Summary
This is a blog of my experiences and random thoughts at seminary.
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Catholic Thoughts Blog
Silent Retreat
Sunday, October 31, 2004, 1:47 PM
We have spent the last three days on silent retreat during a 40 hours devotion. We took shifts in the presence of the exposed Blessed Sacrament and listened to several conferences. These talks were presented by Bishop Foys of the Diocese of Covington, Kentucky. In short, his message was a call to priestly holiness and service: "Prayer, propriety, fraternity."
In Saturday's homily he spoke on the passage from Luke 14: "For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted." He said we could see how the world seeks to exalt itself. How the political candidates are touting their plans and credentials before this election, or how athletes burn with a desire to win so great that they don't who gets hurt--"And I'm just talking about the Mud Bowl." Then he added, "I would like to meet the guy who gave my seminarian a black eye." It got a rather big laugh. I just sat there not knowing if I had just been humbled or exalted.
Friday night I was mildly fixated on an idea I got in the chapel the night before. It had been on my mind and I knew it wouldn't go away, so I spent my first hour before the Eucharistic Lord writing. The first fruits of my retreat turned out to be a four page short film screenplay about a seminarian. Today, as soon as our silence had ended, I pitched the story to two friends over brunch. Both expressed an interest in the project. The working title: Silent Retreat. If God's behind it, you'll be sure to hear more about it here.
Extreme Knockion
Tuesday, October 26, 2004, 9:26 PM
Monday I received the anointing of the sick... well not really. Derek, one of the third year guys, practiced on me while I played the role of a person soon to have an operation. The scene was captured on tape to be replayed later in his liturgy class for critiquing. I had never encountered this rite before, so it was a learning experience for us both. I tried to put myself in the place of the sick.
Later that day I was at football practice with about a dozen theology guys. The Mud Bowl is just around the corner and we don't want this to be the year that college takes the trophy. During one of the plays, while I was running a shallow slant as wide receiver, a mass of humanity went up for a tipped ball. A big guy named Francisco and I, running toward each other, knocked heads at rather high speeds. I had completely recovered after a minute or two, with the exception of my obligatory bloody nose. Francisco, however, had a rather sizable and bloody gash above his eyebrow and would have to get seven stitches. I felt a kinda bad, a bit of survivor's guilt, that he was hurt and I had walked away unscathed. Today everybody found some levity in the matter: "College had better look out. This is what we do to our own teammates."
Non-Disaster Averted
Wednesday, October 20, 2004, 9:03 PM
This morning, around 6:30, the theology dorm was awakened by screeching fire alarms. Whenever this happens, you get out of bed and ask yourself how much clothing to dress yourself with. It's a balancing act between keeping yourself safe (on the slim chance it's the real thing real this time) and prudence (on the very real likelihood that you will feel cold and look silly in just a towel.) I came out wearing pants, shirt, coat and shoes, but foregoing my socks. I had thought how I would hate dying prematurely on account of those superfluous socks.
During a fire drill you go to the theology parking lot. Everyone gathers by floor, in two lines, relative to the position of their rooms. Occasions such this allow us to see what all of us are like before prayer, that is, before our first daily dose of grace. We heard the sirens of the firetrucks come and saw flashlights inspecting the darkened library, a notorious source for false alarms. With the ringing of the tower bells, we knew all was clear... and realized there would be a rush on the showers before morning Mass.
The good thing about midterm exams is that your schedule clears in their wake. I spent my day working ahead on Newman, on Latin, and a nap. I also provided editorial suggestions for my DB's Peruvian trip video. Tonight I plan to treat myself to a second viewing of Th�r�se with friends later tonight.
Back From Break
Monday, October 18, 2004, 4:40 PM
I am back from my midterm break. Like most breaks it left much to be desired. It was not even that restful considering that I sleep most of the morning away. It was a less than ideal break, but I am better as I come out of it.
I saw the Saint Th�r�se movie last Friday and I enjoyed it very much. I came out of the theatre joyful and I hope to see it again.
Yesterday I asked my kids to name three talents, gifts, or blessings they had. Then I asked them to imagine themselves losing all of them, and not only those good things, but everything else they enjoy on earth: their possessions, health, friends, family. I asked them, "What would you still have left?" Maggie knew, "God would still love us." That's right, but for some people that does not feel like a big deal. If God's love doesn't seem like a big deal to you, imagine if God loved everyone in the world... except for you. It seems a lot more precious then, doesn't it? I also told the kids about how love in not a feeling but a choice. If you desire the good for another, you are loving them, whether you feel warm-fuzzies or not. Jesus did not feel much in the way of warm-fuzzies on the cross, but he was acting in perfect love. Even if I should lose everything, I hope I would still trust that God is ever working to bring about my greatest possible eternal happiness out of His love for me.
My prodigious production of papers continues. I believe both are interesting reads. The first is about sacred art, featuring an innovative concept of mine for stained glass windows. The second is about Newman on the scandal of culturally Catholic sinners, features some true stories I've heard.
Jesus asked "Do you want to be well?" (John 5:6)
Sunday, October 10, 2004, 1:15 AM
Saturday, myself and 14 other seminarians devoted most of our day to a seminar presented by the Bethesda Post-Abortion Healing Ministry. About 20 women and a few men hurt by abortion in their lives came to the seminary. Some shared their stories. Though each of their experiences were unique, each are very much the same.
Finding themselves unhappily pregnant the women felt they had no choice but for an abortion. After the abortion came an initial relief, but then symptoms of Post-Abortion Syndrome (a form of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) began to manifest in their lives: regret, guilt, sense of loss, anger, self-hatred, sleeplessness, hopelessness, isolation, avoidance, anniversary reactions, addictions, the list is long. Overcoming denial, the women eventually realize that this suffering is the direct aftermath of their choice to abort their child.
Family, friends, and those in the medical profession often fail understand the deep pain of such women. One of Bethesda's founders explained in a newspaper article why the medical community tends to dismiss post-abortion stress. "It�s because it�s the soul that hurts, and the secular world deals with the psychological," she said. "Some women have gone from counselor to counselor for years, and doctors don�t do anything about it. They tell the women that it�s all over and legal, and it�s time to get over it." The peace they seek cannot be found in a prescription.
Just as each women seemed to tell the same story of their suffering, each had reached out for help and obtained healing in the same way, to Jesus Christ through their involvement in with Bethesda. Centered upon dialogue and the Sacraments, Bethesda enables them to be truly renewed, forgiven, in peace. In the same article a co-founder shares, "I have seen many women who couldn�t hold up their heads when they first came. They�re so devastated at first. They go from crying and literally shaking to being able to really communicate and share their feelings and know what�s in their heart. They didn�t realize that abortion had brought so much dysfunction to their lives." The women now feel as new creations, and it shows in their joy.
I have seen an abortion and it is one of the most horrible things I have ever seen. We watched a movie that included actual footage of a suction abortion. The woman, though unconscious, screams and shudders with her legs raised in the stirrups. We see the instrument's insertion and watch the tubal vacuum of red fluids and parts as the motor rumbles. It made me think of a mechanical rape. I did not close my eyes and I feared I would vomit. It was so deformed from what the good is meant to be. I hated it intensely for what it is in itself, and I did not sin. I pray for all people to be saved, but for abortion to be utterly destroyed.
The good Archbishop of St. Louis has written On Our Civic Responsibility for the Common Good. It pleased me greatly that his experience greatly reflected my own thoughts. He writes:
1. IN THE SUMMER OF 1982, I spent two months in Bavaria for the study of the
German language, as part of my graduate studies in Canon Law. I offered Mass daily in the parish church, and got to know and respect very much the layman who cared for the sacristy of the church. Often, we visited after Mass and discussed spiritual matters.
2. One day, the sacristan opened his heart about the evils of Naziism. He was
in his late teen years at the time of the rise of the Third Reich. The question which haunted him was how the people of his nation, how he, could have permitted such horrible evils to happen at all or to go on for so long. Some months ago, our conversation came to mind when another native of Germany, who grew up during the Third Reich, commented to me on the accusation, made against a number of the Catholic Bishops of Germany of the time, of not having done enough to teach against the evils of Naziism.
7. The sacristan in Bavaria, conscious that he is his �brother�s keeper,� heard
the Lord�s question about the brutal killing of so many of his brothers and sisters. I ask myself what answer I will give our Lord when He asks me about my many innocent and defenseless brothers and sisters in the womb whose lives have been and are being snuffed out. How will I answer our Lord when He asks me about my brothers and sisters who have grown weak under the burden of advanced years, grave illness or special needs, whose so-called �mercy killing� has been made legal in some places and is proposed to be made legal everywhere in our nation? How will I answer our Lord when He asks me about what I, as Bishop, have done to teach the inviolability of human life from the moment of conception to the moment of natural death?
A Nonagenarian's Vigil
My Midweek Midterm
Friday, October 8, 2004, 11:58 PM
My full day Wednesday was devoted to writing my take-home test for my class in Liturgy, Sacraments, and Prayer. It was a cleverly written test which required concise appologetical responses to scenarios one might well hear as a priest in a parish. I am very pleased with how my answers turned out. For example:
2) Mr. Horace Zontal, a member of your parish council, thinks that the Mass is primarily a remembrance of what Jesus did 2 millennia ago...
Oh, but Horace, it's far more than merely a remembrance. Jesus is really present at the Mass. The bread and the wine actually become His body and blood, with His soul and divinity. I know from our Bible studies that you value Scriptural evidences. Look at the Last Supper narratives in the Gospels, what St. Paul says in 1st Corinthians, how Jesus hammers away the point in John, chapter six: "Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life." In the fullest sense, Jesus is in the Eucharist.
You may have heard that the Mass is the memorial of Jesus' life, death, and resurrection--that He told us to "do this in remembrance" of Him. That's all true, but 'memorial' and 'remembrance' here mean more than a mere recollection. For the Jews, memorials made the original event in a certain way present and real. This is what we believe about the Mass, it makes us present to witness Jesus' one self-sacrifice of two thousand years ago and to receive its graces.
At the Mass we unite with Jesus' passion, resurrection from the dead, and ascension into heaven. These events happened once in history, but they have never passed away. They transcend time, and in the Mass we receive the divine graces which flow from them. So you see, Horace, the Mass is very much more than simple remembrance.
[Read my other replies.]
On This Day in 1879
Tuesday, October 5, 2004, 8:54 PM
One-hundred twenty-five years ago today, Cardinal John Henry Newman spoke at St. Mary's College in Oscott, England. He told the school-boys he would not "say anything that you have not often heard before from your superiors", but several of his homily's lessons managed to educate me. Perhaps this indicates that my theological knowledge falls below that of those school-boys. In any case, it goes to show that spiritual writings from the past are valuable for bringing to light things which we fail to see today.
A Good Week
Monday, October 4, 2004, 1:27 PM
Sunday:
I oversleep through half of Mass. Afterward I go off-campus to fulfill my Sunday obligation. I teach my class about Noah and Babel. I listen to two seminarian friends tell their vocation stories to the discussion group which has kept alive and grown to my surprise. I go out to Borders with others to do Latin. I gather St. Th�r�se quotes for a friend (see below).
Monday:
I oversleep morning prayer to my own annoyance. At lunch the table conversation is so dead that we manage to use it as a vehicle for resuscitation and a great chat follows. I write a Newman paper on Conscience as Revealer of the One God. I play basketball and, in typical fashion, get a bloody nose. I send out a mass email to promote Th�r�se and stay up late discussing ethics.
Tuesday:
Tonight, immediately after a rector's conference, our seminarian rep to the board of directors holds a input session. All the seminarians are there, seated opposite each other in the stalls of the chapel. It does not turn into too much of a gripe session. It's vaguely like Question Time for the Prime Minister in the British House of Commons.
Wednesday:
I nap through another thing on my schedule, but I am able to make telethon calls on behalf of the seminary in the afternoon instead.
Thursday:
I am wryly labeled a "naturalist" in Early Modern, but I am unfazed. What one does shows what one believes. I hustle in basketball and break away after halftime for a graced confession while still in gym shorts and a tee-shirt.
Friday:
I am moved by the homily on complete self-offering. In the evening I attend a rosary for the conversion of sinners which is held each week.
Saturday:
Three of us sing at the clinic. I write an interesting paper on Newman's thoughts on Islam all day. In my spiritual direction I am encouraged to keep a more regular schedule since priests are expected to be available to their people all day. I go to a coffee shop to decipher Husserl with a friend.
Sunday:
The seminarians attend a beautiful Byzantine liturgy in the morning. I take a nap and prep a couple hours for teaching. I tell my life's vocation story to our group and we discuss the Real Presence, a subject of interest to us all. I teach my class about the parallels between the sacrifice of Issac and of Jesus. Two boys in the class want to be priests when the grow up. I'm up late again due to enjoyable conversations with important people on the phone.
My Favorite Class
Monday, October 4, 2004, 10:35 AM
I am really enjoying my apostolic works assignment this semester. On Sundays I get to go into the city and teach religious education to good bunch of fourth-graders. The classes are a lot of fun and they show how much this past summer of practice in teaching and preaching has helped me.
Here is a highlight from last Sunday's class: I ask one of the kids who would run faster in a race, him or me. Little Ben points to me with a smile. Then I ask who between us would win a race to his house and everyone agrees, probably me. I, however, disagree. I explain that Ben has a distinct advantage over me: he knows where he lives while I have no clue. He knows where he's going, but I don't. Likewise, without God's direction you will be lost in life, no matter how fast you might run.
Yesterday I brought a small paper bag to class. I ask them, "What's in the bag?" They offer a few guesses but admit they have no clue. All of their combined senses cannot tell them what is in the bag. In fact, as I tell them, no human being on earth has seen what is in this bag except me. I turn around, look inside the bag again, and report to them that it contains little candy bars. "Do you believe me," I ask them. They see-saw back and forth on the subject while I wait for a consensus. After giving my promise, they all agree that they trust me. I pour out the contents on a table and everyone gets two candy bars. "Faith is trust," I tell them. Abraham, through his trust in God, could be greatly blessed with gifts even better than candy.
Saint Th�r�se Quotes on the Little Way
Friday, October 1, 2004, 12:28 AM
"You know well enough that Our Lord does not look so much at the greatness of our actions, nor even at their difficulty, but at the love with which we do them."
"Without love, deeds, even the most brilliant, count as nothing."
"I prefer the monotony of obscure sacrifice to all ecstasies. To pick up a pin for love can convert a soul."
"My deeds, my little sufferings, can make God loved all over the world."
[More Quotes]
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