This is my homily from last weekend given at Saint Ambrose Parish, Anderson, IN (St. Mary's got a shortened version because it was oppressively hot and they do not have air conditioning in the church):
I grew up with an older brother and sandwiched between two sisters. My brother was the oldest and so I wasn’t all that close to him. I ended up being closer to my older sister and, being somewhat of a mama’s boy, I often found myself watching things like beauty pageants on TV, because that’s what my mom and my sister wanted to watch.
I don’t hear much about them anymore, but back in the ‘80s the Miss America, Miss USA, and Miss Universe contests all had that allure of pageantry and glamour that made it all seem fascinating to me. For me the highlights were the talent portion, where these women would display their incredible abilities to play instruments, to sing, or to dance, and also the evening gown competition, as each tried to outdo the other in having the most luxurious dress. Then, there was the interview portion, where these women had to respond to questions with extremely complicated answers with poise and alacrity to prove that they could represent the best of our nation (or the world) on a world stage. Inevitably, the “one wish” question would come up. “If you could have one wish for anything in the world, what would it be?” After watching a few of these you quickly learned that if a contestant even hinted at wishing for something for themselves, that their chance at winning the crown was gone. And, as years went on, the answers to these became somewhat rote and always altruistic. “I would wish that there would be world peace.” “I would wish for an end to world hunger.” “I would wish for a cure for cancer.” While these are all wonderful things to wish for, the fact that they became the “pat” answer to this question made these young women seem to me to be rather fake and inauthentic.
In today’s first reading, we see God putting King Solomon through a similar “interview” as he is taking over the reins of the kingdom from his father David. As we hear the dialogue between God and Solomon, we can almost feel the tension building as Solomon discerns what it is that he should ask for from God. Waiting with abated breath we hear his answer: “Wisdom.” “Wisdom? NO! He is supposed to ask for world peace or an end to hunger or that everyone in the world would be as rich as he is! What was he thinking!?!?” Yet we soon hear that God was pleased with his answer… Why?
Well, first Solomon acknowledged his relationship with God. He acknowledged that the kingdom that he has been given is really God’s kingdom and that the people he is ruling are really God’s people and that, in actuality, it was God who had made him ruler over his people. Because he had a relationship with God, Solomon knew that God wasn’t just some divine magician who could be called upon to magically make everything wrong in the world right. Instead, he knew that God had called him to rule over his people and that God had given him the great responsibility to care for and provide for his people. With such a great task and the shadow of his father, king David, looming over him, Solomon humbly acknowledged that he couldn’t handle this task alone and that he needed God’s help to fulfill the work that he was calling him to. Thus, he didn’t ask that there would be no problems, but rather that he would have the understanding—the wisdom—to lead his people well in both good times and in bad. And God was pleased with his answer.
I think that many days we find ourselves in a similar situation to Solomon yet we hardly recognize it. Daily we are surrounded by the needs of God’s people and yet all we can think to do is to pray that God will wave his hand over the earth and make it all go away. We fail to recognize that the task of building God’s kingdom here on earth has been given to us. Certainly, God doesn’t need us for the building of his kingdom—he is all-powerful and can handle it himself—but in his desire for a relationship with us, he invites us to participate in the work of building up his kingdom here on earth. With that in mind, then, perhaps we can look to the example of Solomon to see how we can pray and thus know what to ask for when we come before God with our needs.
When we come before God we must first acknowledge our relationship with him. Solomon acknowledged before God that he was God’s servant, called to care for and to rule over God’s people. And so we too must acknowledge that God has called us to a particular task for the building up of his kingdom. Next our task is to ask God for the understanding to know how he has called us to participate in alleviating the problem or issue that we are bringing before him. Solomon, recognizing the great responsibility that God had given him, asked for understanding to be able to judge God’s people well. First time parents, I suspect, are quite familiar with this prayer. Faced with the responsibility of caring for and raising a child, new parents ought to find frequent recourse to pray for the understanding they need to raise their children. Finally, as we begin to take responsibility for the tasks that God has given us, then we will find the things that we truly do need God’s intervention for—such as a miraculous healing from an addiction or the conversion of a family member long estranged from the Church. Then, we can come again before God, trusting that he hears and answers these prayers too. When we pray in this way, taking responsibility for the things God has called us to and asking for God’s wisdom to fulfill them, we not only engage in our relationship with him, but we also make ourselves open to uncovering the hidden treasures that are the kingdom of heaven.
My brothers and sisters, the characters in the parables from today’s Gospel reading were “surprised by joy” to find the hidden treasure and the pearl of great value. When we accept the particular way that God has called us to build his kingdom here on earth, then we too will be “surprised by joy” when we find the ways in which the kingdom is being realized in our midst—a family healed after the leaving off of an addiction or the deathbed conversion of that long-estranged family member. This is the same kingdom that each week we come together to realize and to celebrate when we come here to worship at this altar and to share in the meal that is a participation in the eternal banquet of heaven, the banquet of the God’s kingdom yet to come. Let us pray, then, for God’s wisdom to take up the task that he has given us for the building of his kingdom and thus to be surprised by joy when his kingdom appears like a great treasure before us.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
(Generally) Quick Takes...
It's been quite some time since I've posted and so I thought that I would simply throw some things out there that have been piquing my interest in the last few weeks to give you all a clue as to what's been going on with me. And so, in no particular order...
1. My summer pastor, Fr. Bob, has been out of town three times since I've been ordained a deacon and each time something has come up that has made very clear to me the responsibility that comes with the title "pastor." The first two times there were funerals and this last time I baptized a four year old boy who was about to go in for brain surgery. (Please pray for Wyatt!) It's amazing how the Holy Spirit comes through when you have no idea how to handle a situation!
2. The National Catholic Reporter recently ran this article in their publication about the Vatican promoting Eucharistic Adoration. Please read the whole thing. There are many members of the Church (clergy and lay persons) who think that promoting Eucharistic Adoration is a bad thing. After you've read this article, I think you will have a better idea of where they are coming from. I'm not trying to say that they are right, but I am trying to say that if we even want to begin to become unified as a body in the Church (and I think that Jesus probably wants that), then we need to try to understand where each side is coming from so we can begin speaking on the same terms.
That being said, I just have a couple of questions for the people who think that Eucharistic Adoration takes away from the celebration of the Eucharist... Isn't our God big enough for both? Why do we have to limit ourselves to one form of worship? With the limited availability of priests, wouldn't you think that providing a valid, Church approved form of worship (in the form of perpetual, or at least regular, adoration) would actually add to peoples' desire to celebrate the Eucharist, without which they wouldn't even have the opportunity to adore? Besides, it seems that the sensum fidei, led by the authentic Magisterium of the Church, is supporting the expanding of Eucharistic Adoration, so why try to squash something that is obviously helping the Faithful to deepen their devotion to God?
In my entirely un-magisterial opinion, it seems to me that those who discourage Eucharistic Adoration are placing limits on what Christ gave us when he gave us the gift of his Real Presence in the Eucharist. I want to understand more, however, so I hope that I can have an open conversation with someone who stands against the promotion of Eucharistic Adoration.
3. Last Thursday was Blessed Kateri Tekakwitha's feast day. Ever since I co-led a youth mission trip to a Native American reservation in Oklahoma a five years ago, I've had a devotion to this saint of North America. In doing some research for preaching that day, I came across this NPR spot that described a healing that is under consideration as the second miracle attributed to her intercession. I pray that it goes through as North America needs more home-born saints!
4. Work here in the parishes of Anderson continues to go well. The most frustrating thing so far has been that there is nothing going on during the summer. There's been a few youth events, but hardly any other type of organized activity. Thus, my days consist mostly of liturgy (morning prayer and mass) and visiting the homebound and those in nursing homes. Don't get me wrong, I am honored to bring Holy Communion to those who can't come to Mass, but I guess I was hoping that there would be more to get involved in while I was here.
5. Check out this article about the government in Ireland proposing a law that would require priests to break the seal of confession to report perpetrators of abuse. This is simply preposterous and shows how far the secularization of western culture has come. Don't think that something like this can't happen in the U.S.! Pray, pray, pray for our nation's leaders and get involved and vote!
Ok, I don't have any more. I don't know if there are rules for how many quick takes one's supposed to have when one does this. Thus, I feel free to just stop after five :) I think that this catches me up, however, so until next time - Adios!
Monday, June 27, 2011
The feast of Corpus Christi
This is my homily for the feast of Corpus Christi: June 26, 2011. Given at St. Mary and St. Ambrose parishes, Anderson, IN.
As Americans, we know that we can be pretty pragmatic. We like things to fit into structures and routines so that we really don’t have to think about them. As a result, things that we do frequently become common or ordinary to us and we oftentimes forget how important they really are to us. Consider our morning breakfast: a couple of pieces of toast or perhaps a bowl of cereal, a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee and we’re on our way. Yet, it throws our whole day off, doesn’t it, if we find we’ve run out of bread or someone finished the last bowl of our favorite cereal. We just feel better if it remains the same, day in and day out, and we don’t realize how important it is to us until we don’t have it anymore.
In today’s first reading, we hear Moses reminding the Israelite people, who had been wandering in the desert for forty years after leaving Egypt, about what a miracle it was for them to have the manna as food for their journey. Way back at the beginning of their journey, the Israelites grumbled against Moses and against God after they were led out into the desert from Egypt because they had no source of food to sustain them during their exodus. God responded and promised “bread from heaven,” the manna that appeared each morning like dew across the ground. Each day the Israelites would gather enough to feed their family for the day and on the next day—faithfully, for forty years—more would appear. If you could imagine what it would be like to eat the same food every day for forty years straight, you might understand that the Israelites began to take this blessing for granted. The manna, as miraculous as it was, had become common and the Israelites had come to take it for granted.
I would venture to say that some of us here might experience a similar problem. Many of us have been parishioners here for a long time: perhaps some of us even for forty-plus years. We know what mass we attend and where we generally sit (I say “generally” because there are always those “floaters” who sometimes end up in our seats, right?), the music perhaps is somewhat predictable and we generally know what to expect from the experience—I mean, the mass is the mass, right? And it all becomes very routine for us. Even though every week we are called here to worship God and to receive his body, blood, soul and divinity in the form of bread and wine—the true bread come down from heaven—we nonetheless sometimes find ourselves looking forward more to the opportunity to meet with friends or on the flipside considering it a chore to be drudged through so that we can get on with the rest of our day. Because we come here every week and because the mass—by design, by the way—generally looks and feels the same, it has become familiar to us and perhaps we forget what a miracle it is to be called here to receive the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ.
As we look back again at the Israelites and Moses’ speech from the first reading today, we recognize one important fact. In spite of all of their years of taking it for granted, God never once failed to provide it for them. For forty years the Israelites wandered, grumbled, and wandered some more and in all of that time God never failed to provide them with that miraculous bread from heaven. The manna, therefore, was their viaticum—which literally translates to “on the way with you”, but less formally means “food for the journey.” Manna was the miraculous “bread from heaven” that sustained them on their way and was their reminder of God’s providential presence with them throughout it all.
In giving us this great feast of Corpus Christi, the Church is doing what Moses did for the Israelites a few thousand years ago. It is reminding us of what a miracle it is that we are called here every week and have the opportunity to receive the Most Holy Body and Blood of Jesus Christ in the form of bread and wine. It is a reminder that, even if we sometimes take it for granted, God will never fail to give us the Eucharist, our viaticum, our “food for the journey.” And this is so important for us to remember. Not just because it is food—obviously the little portion that we receive is not much to satisfy us—nor only because it is spiritual food—which of course it is—but primarily because it is our intimate connection with God. God gave the Israelites bread for their bodies, but the manna, however, was just that, bread. The bread that God provides us in the Eucharist is both bread for our bodies and spiritual food to nourish us on our journey, but because it is the Body and Blood of Jesus, our Lord, it is also a participation in the intimate communion that is God, which we celebrated last week in the feast of the Most Holy Trinity. The Body and Blood of Jesus is the fulfillment of what the manna of the ancient Israelites foreshadowed. It is the sacrament of God’s presence intended to effect our communion with God, until that day when we cross over from this life into the land promised to us, God’s heavenly kingdom.
My brothers and sisters, the real, sacramental presence of God—the Body Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus Christ—in the species of bread and wine is the most perfect gift that God has given us. It is the sign of God’s presence with us, even in the midst of our worst afflictions. Many people today, much like the people of ancient Israel, often want extraordinary signs that God is with them in their affliction. What I want you all to realize today, however, is that God has given us such a sign. Yet, in his great condescension to us he has allowed this extraordinary sign to be experienced by us as ordinary. I realize that sometimes when we are in the midst of our worst afflictions, we want—we feel we need—the clouds to part and a voice to come from the sky saying, “It’s ok, I am with you.” We want to see Jesus face to face and have him put his arm around us and say, “I know that this is hard, but look I haven’t left you.” But what I am telling you is that God has done that for us. Every time that we walk into a church and mass is being celebrated, or even if we only get a glimpse of that red candle flickering in the corner—we can know that God has not abandoned us, that he is with us. Thus, in the midst of our worst afflictions, God calls us to run to him in the Blessed Sacrament. He calls us to receive him as often as possible so that his presence may comfort us and strengthen us for the journey. This is why he sent his Son to us and this is why Jesus instituted this great sacrament. He did it for us.
Moses needed to remind the people of Israel that the sign of God’s providential care was something right under their noses: the miraculous bread from heaven that they received every day. Today, the Church gives us this great feast of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ to remind us of the same thing and more. The Blessed Sacrament that we receive ordinarily from this altar is the sign of God’s providential care as we wander as pilgrims on this earth. It is also the bread that will strengthen us to remain steadfast in faith through all of our trials. Most importantly, it is our intimate connection to God, who desires communion with us.
As we continue to plow head-long back into the “routine” of ordinary time, let us strive to remember what an extraordinary gift it is that God has given us, the invitation, as Saint Paul says, “to participate in the body and blood of Christ,” and let us strive to celebrate this gift as extraordinary, even amidst our ordinary participation in it.
As Americans, we know that we can be pretty pragmatic. We like things to fit into structures and routines so that we really don’t have to think about them. As a result, things that we do frequently become common or ordinary to us and we oftentimes forget how important they really are to us. Consider our morning breakfast: a couple of pieces of toast or perhaps a bowl of cereal, a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee and we’re on our way. Yet, it throws our whole day off, doesn’t it, if we find we’ve run out of bread or someone finished the last bowl of our favorite cereal. We just feel better if it remains the same, day in and day out, and we don’t realize how important it is to us until we don’t have it anymore.
In today’s first reading, we hear Moses reminding the Israelite people, who had been wandering in the desert for forty years after leaving Egypt, about what a miracle it was for them to have the manna as food for their journey. Way back at the beginning of their journey, the Israelites grumbled against Moses and against God after they were led out into the desert from Egypt because they had no source of food to sustain them during their exodus. God responded and promised “bread from heaven,” the manna that appeared each morning like dew across the ground. Each day the Israelites would gather enough to feed their family for the day and on the next day—faithfully, for forty years—more would appear. If you could imagine what it would be like to eat the same food every day for forty years straight, you might understand that the Israelites began to take this blessing for granted. The manna, as miraculous as it was, had become common and the Israelites had come to take it for granted.
I would venture to say that some of us here might experience a similar problem. Many of us have been parishioners here for a long time: perhaps some of us even for forty-plus years. We know what mass we attend and where we generally sit (I say “generally” because there are always those “floaters” who sometimes end up in our seats, right?), the music perhaps is somewhat predictable and we generally know what to expect from the experience—I mean, the mass is the mass, right? And it all becomes very routine for us. Even though every week we are called here to worship God and to receive his body, blood, soul and divinity in the form of bread and wine—the true bread come down from heaven—we nonetheless sometimes find ourselves looking forward more to the opportunity to meet with friends or on the flipside considering it a chore to be drudged through so that we can get on with the rest of our day. Because we come here every week and because the mass—by design, by the way—generally looks and feels the same, it has become familiar to us and perhaps we forget what a miracle it is to be called here to receive the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ.
As we look back again at the Israelites and Moses’ speech from the first reading today, we recognize one important fact. In spite of all of their years of taking it for granted, God never once failed to provide it for them. For forty years the Israelites wandered, grumbled, and wandered some more and in all of that time God never failed to provide them with that miraculous bread from heaven. The manna, therefore, was their viaticum—which literally translates to “on the way with you”, but less formally means “food for the journey.” Manna was the miraculous “bread from heaven” that sustained them on their way and was their reminder of God’s providential presence with them throughout it all.
In giving us this great feast of Corpus Christi, the Church is doing what Moses did for the Israelites a few thousand years ago. It is reminding us of what a miracle it is that we are called here every week and have the opportunity to receive the Most Holy Body and Blood of Jesus Christ in the form of bread and wine. It is a reminder that, even if we sometimes take it for granted, God will never fail to give us the Eucharist, our viaticum, our “food for the journey.” And this is so important for us to remember. Not just because it is food—obviously the little portion that we receive is not much to satisfy us—nor only because it is spiritual food—which of course it is—but primarily because it is our intimate connection with God. God gave the Israelites bread for their bodies, but the manna, however, was just that, bread. The bread that God provides us in the Eucharist is both bread for our bodies and spiritual food to nourish us on our journey, but because it is the Body and Blood of Jesus, our Lord, it is also a participation in the intimate communion that is God, which we celebrated last week in the feast of the Most Holy Trinity. The Body and Blood of Jesus is the fulfillment of what the manna of the ancient Israelites foreshadowed. It is the sacrament of God’s presence intended to effect our communion with God, until that day when we cross over from this life into the land promised to us, God’s heavenly kingdom.
My brothers and sisters, the real, sacramental presence of God—the Body Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus Christ—in the species of bread and wine is the most perfect gift that God has given us. It is the sign of God’s presence with us, even in the midst of our worst afflictions. Many people today, much like the people of ancient Israel, often want extraordinary signs that God is with them in their affliction. What I want you all to realize today, however, is that God has given us such a sign. Yet, in his great condescension to us he has allowed this extraordinary sign to be experienced by us as ordinary. I realize that sometimes when we are in the midst of our worst afflictions, we want—we feel we need—the clouds to part and a voice to come from the sky saying, “It’s ok, I am with you.” We want to see Jesus face to face and have him put his arm around us and say, “I know that this is hard, but look I haven’t left you.” But what I am telling you is that God has done that for us. Every time that we walk into a church and mass is being celebrated, or even if we only get a glimpse of that red candle flickering in the corner—we can know that God has not abandoned us, that he is with us. Thus, in the midst of our worst afflictions, God calls us to run to him in the Blessed Sacrament. He calls us to receive him as often as possible so that his presence may comfort us and strengthen us for the journey. This is why he sent his Son to us and this is why Jesus instituted this great sacrament. He did it for us.
Moses needed to remind the people of Israel that the sign of God’s providential care was something right under their noses: the miraculous bread from heaven that they received every day. Today, the Church gives us this great feast of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ to remind us of the same thing and more. The Blessed Sacrament that we receive ordinarily from this altar is the sign of God’s providential care as we wander as pilgrims on this earth. It is also the bread that will strengthen us to remain steadfast in faith through all of our trials. Most importantly, it is our intimate connection to God, who desires communion with us.
As we continue to plow head-long back into the “routine” of ordinary time, let us strive to remember what an extraordinary gift it is that God has given us, the invitation, as Saint Paul says, “to participate in the body and blood of Christ,” and let us strive to celebrate this gift as extraordinary, even amidst our ordinary participation in it.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
The first week after "the change"
Greetings and thank you to all of you who have prayed so fervantly for me. I meant to post something earlier this week, but simply did not have the time to. As it turns out my first week as a deacon has been a pretty busy one.
After preaching my first homily on Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning, I saw my family off as they returned to Illinois. Upon arriving in Anderson, I was greeted by Fr. Bob who promptly informed me that I had a funeral on Wednesday. Fr. Bob, you see, was leaving for the annual priest convocation on Monday and so as it turns out, I was the "pastor" of the Anderson parishes for the week!
I had already been informed that I would preside at the 6th grade graduation at St. Ambrose that Monday, so I had to prepare a homily for that. I had two communion services scheduled and now this funeral (obviously, for each, I would need a homily). I also found myself making all of the hospital visits. Needless to say, I quickly found out why being the pastor keeps one quite busy.
Some folks have asked me what it feels like to be a deacon and all that I can tell them is, "normal." I've been preparing for this for years and so aside from my change in responsibilities/capabilities I really don't feel a whole lot different. But I think that is really good because I think that means that "putting on" the clerical state, well, just fits.
This weekend we have celebrated the ordination of four men from our diocese. I've been with these men for five years and it is such a joy to see them ordained to the priesthood. As I was kneeling by the altar during the Eucharistic Prayer at the Ordination Mass, I was moved as I heard these four men reciting the words of institution for the first time. They are living signs that God wants the Eucharist and all the other sacraments to continue for some time to come. What a great day for the Church and for us all.
After completing the circuit of First Masses of Thanksgiving for the four newly ordained priests, I will be joining a group of young people from St. Mary's in Anderson for a Catholic Heart Work Camp in Toledo, OH. Please pray for our safety and that this experience will lead us to a deeper and more profound experience of God. I'll post again after my return!
Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati, pray for us! Verso l'alto!
Monday, May 30, 2011
Time to catch up...
Hey friends, it's time to catch up on all the stuff that's been going on with me in the last month!
Mission Mini Marathon: Accomplished!
With the grace of perseverence in my training, I was able to participate in and complete my first half-marathon on May 7th. I began the weekend in a somber way, with the funeral of my friend Edgar. Then I was honored to server at the Mass for Vocations at St. John's in downtown Indy. I carb-loaded at the Race for Vocations pasta dinner, stressed about where we would park Saturday morning, and went to bed way too late.
Nonetheless, I felt great Saturday morning and even though my plans for parking didn't work out and it took forever (it seemed) to get to a Port-a-John before the race started, I made it to my starting corral and was even able to start the race with a few fellow Race-for-Vocations runners. I ran a conservative race and finished in 2:11, about a 10 min/mile pace. As you can see by the post-race picture, I had something left in the tank. Next year (and I mean that!), I plan on running in well under two hours.
Mission: Semester Completion - Accomplished!
It was "no rest for the weary" as I was immediately back to the seminary after the Mini to finish up the final week of the semester. I had papers to write and finals to take, and then I had to move completely out of my room, all in seven days. My Trinity final provided the most daunting challenge as I endured a monumental spiritual battle the entire day. Satan felt it necessary to taunt me all day long, saying "You can't do this." when I knew I could. It took just about all that I had to get through it, but with God's grace I completed it and the rest of my work in time to get moved out.
Saying goodbye is difficult and I find that with the whirlwind of activity at the end of each semester that I never do it well. I just hope that all of the guys know that I will miss them and that I pray for them regularly.
Mission: Chillax - Accomplished!
After getting moved out of the seminary, I spent a few days in Carmel visiting friends and then made my way up to J-town to hang with my family for a week. I did get some definite relaxing in, but also spent a lot of time running around and taking care of maintainance things for my car.
Two of my friends from high school, Joe and Jake, and spent the better part of a day at the National Restaraunt Association trade show at the McCormick place in Chicago. Imagine walking around a convention center, and doing nothing but sampling different gormet foods all day and you get an idea of what it was like, and why it was worth the price of admission.
The best part, however, was spending time with my parents, sisters, and niece and nephew. The kiddos have grown not only to remember me, but to miss me when I'm gone and so it is always a special treat for them and for me when I can visit.
Mission: Ordination - Counting down...
After returning from J-town, I moved into my summer parish in Anderson, IN. I will be helping Fr. Bob at both St. Mary's and St. Ambrose parishes this summer. I spent a couple of days getting settled in, then promptly jetted off to Cincinnati to witness the final oath of my classmates, Aaron and Crispine, in the Glenmary Home Missioners. It was a beautiful ceremony and as a bonus, I got to see some of the folks from the seminary and give them a proper goodbye.
Now, the countdown is in full swing. I have five days until ordination day and I plan on taking a lot of time to pray and to reflect on this journey so that I am prepared to participate fully and consciously in the ordination. Thank you to all who have prayed so generously for me throughout these past five years. Please continue to pray for me and my brothers who will be ordained with me, Travis Stephens and Sam Futrals, as we make our final preparations to be ordained this coming Saturday (June 4th).
Look for a post soon after!
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
I have competed well...
... and in a little more than two days, I will "finish the race" (II Timothy 4:7) when I participate in the 2011 Race for Vocations. For those of you who have been praying with me, now is the time to re-double our prayers!
As I review the details for the big day, anxiety begins to stir in my stomach. There will be over 35,000 runners/walkers on the streets of downtown Indianapolis this Saturday. That is going to be an overwhelming feeling! I will be proud to be one of the "elect" who will be wearing the "Vocation: everybody's got one. What's yours?" shirt and proving that with faith we can overcome our worldly obstacles and achieve the greatness that God has destined us for.
Tomorrow, Thursday, May 5, I will celebrate the one-year anniversary of being declared to be in full-remission from cancer. I can't think of a better way to celebrate God's gift of life to me than by offering the culmination of the last four months of training to Him and by finishing this race for His glory and for grace for all of those who are discerning His will for their lives.
Thank you for all of your prayerful support so far. Let us finish strong! Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati, pray for us! Blessed Pope John Paul II, pray for us! Verso l'alto!
Monday, May 2, 2011
In Memoriam
Edgar and I in November 2009
I had known Ed since 2004 when I first started visiting him as part of the Community Caring organization. I volunteered with them and Marcia Brown (then its director) paired me up with Ed. It was the first time I had ever volunteered to have one-on-one interaction with someone in need and it was Ed's first time to have a "little brother" of sorts. It was equally awkward for each of us and so it worked out pretty well.
We both got past that initial awkwardness and became fast friends. Over the years, Edgar and I would share many wonderful memories: visits to the zoo, museums, baseball games, and nights out for dinner. We had some stressful and difficult times, and our relationship had been particularly strained since I had entered the seminary since my studies and duties in the diocese left me with little time to spend with him. Nevertheless, he remained a true friend to the end.
One of my greatest joys was to see him come into full communion with the Catholic Church in 2009. It had been a long journey of faith for him and I believe he counted it as one of the most important events of his life. I was honored to serve the Easter Vigil mass that welcomed him into the Church.
I last saw Ed a week and a half ago, on Wednesday of Holy Week. We talked about my trip to Rome last January and about the plans for him to be at my ordination to the diaconate in June. He wanted nothing more than to be there for my ordination. I suppose now, he won't have to worry so much about those plans.
While the news came as a shock today - it was certainly unexpected - I guess in a way I had been preparing for this to happen for some time. I knew his health had been deteriorating significantly over the past few years and that in reality something could happen at any time. Today was that day. I pray that God has looked upon him with mercy and received him lovingly into heaven.
Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him...
P.S. His funeral will be this Friday, May 6th at 11:00 a.m. EDT at Saint Augustine's Home for the Aged on 86th Street in Indianapolis.
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