Aggie Catholic '00

¡Pase. Adelante!

2011-07-27T11:30:00.000-05:00

I must admit that when I arrived in a bus full of my brother seminarians on a Sunday afternoon in June, I wasn’t sure what to expect during my eight week stay in Antigua. Most of what I knew about the city was limited to what can be found in a guide book or a quick search on Google. As seminarian for a Diocese in Texas, USA, we had been sent to Antigua in order to learn Spanish. However, during this time, not only have I learned a great deal of Spanish, but I have learned other valuable lessons that I will carry with me for the rest of my life. These lessons all began with a simple phrase…

As the bus traveled in reverse down the long narrow alley towards the house I would be living in, I became increasingly nervous. My mind was flooded with questions, with fears, and with worries. What would my house look like? Would my room be comfortable? How would the family treat me? Would I be treated as just another ‘extranjero’ or would I receive a warm welcome? Was I going to be safe in Antigua? Would the driver of the bus be able to drive down the alley without getting into an accident?

From the street, the house looked like many of the other houses in Antigua. The outside of the house was painted a bright color and had high walls that prevented anyone from seeing inside. Some of the houses even had razor wire or glass on top of the walls in order to keep intruders out of the house. The high walls, solid metal front doors, and closed doors send a clear message: uninvited guests are not welcome and every precaution is taken to keep whatever is securely locked inside hidden from view. Entrance will only be granted by the invitation of the owner. I could not help but ask myself, “Are they trying to hide what is on the inside, or are they trying to protect themselves from the dangers that exist outside the walls?” Perhaps it is both.

As I walked toward the front door, I was greeted by a welcoming smile from the owner of the house and a simple invitation, “Hola. Pase. Adelante.” With this simple phrase I was being welcomed into a family’s home. As I entered the house I was pleasantly surprised by how beautiful it was on the inside. The house was beautifully decorated, had a lot more space than I thought based on my view from the street, and was very clean. The walls of the living room were covered with pictures of the family’s son and daughter from when they were only children. The family dog quickly let me know that she was not accustomed to my presence and was still not ready to welcome another stranger.

After organizing my things in my room, I walked out onto the terrace on the roof. The beauty of Volcan de Agua towering over this city took my breath away. From my elevated viewpoint I could also see what was hidden behind the walls of the neighbor’s house. I was able to see beautiful gardens, flowers, and open courtyards. There was so much beauty hidden behind those big exterior walls. I could also hear the bells ringing at La Merced inviting the faithful to join the community for the celebration of the Eucharist. I quickly realized that there was more to Antigua than what could be seen from the street level.

Over the course of the next few days I began to explore Antigua by walking up and down the streets. I passed rows and rows of houses with doors that remained closed to those on the outside. Occasionally I would catch a glimpse through an open door and discover a beautiful garden or some other sign that indicated there was much more to be seen behind those high walls. In the parts of town frequented by tourists I was greeted by many people who offered to shine my shoes, sell me various arts and crafts, or direct me to the nearest travel agency. I could hear the ‘ayudantes’ on the buses calling out “¡Guate…Guate!” and other destinations to their potential customers. As I walked down Arch Street, I was greeted by many people standing in the doorways of the businesses calling out the simple invitation, “Pase. Adelante.” I noticed that on the exterior walls of every restaurant there is a menu posted on the wall. There are no attempts at deception. From street level, a tourist can see exactly what is being offered on the inside behind the high walls. There are no surprises. Nothing is kept hidden. The very life of the business depends on the customer being drawn in from the street. The customer becomes the life giving blood of the business and the business in turn feeds the customer. Neither one cannot exist without the other.

It wasn’t until I had climbed the stairs to the top of Cerro de la Cruz that I felt like I got a real glimpse of Antigua. From this view on a hill overlooking the city, I could see places that are impossible to see from the street. I saw buildings, courtyards, and open spaces that I never knew existed. For the first time, I was starting to see the real beauty of Antigua. Standing in the shadow of the giant stone cross I could not help but think I was given a glimpse of what the city looks like from Heaven. However, something was missing. There had to be more. The true beauty of the city had yet to be revealed.

Over the next few weeks I would eventually discover the true beauty of Antigua and every other city for that matter. Like Antigua, the true beauty in every city is found behind high walls and locked metal doors. However, I am not talking about the houses and buildings I encountered. No, instead I am talking about the high walls and locked metal doors that many of us construct around our hearts. Each of us has the beautiful courtyard or garden deep within our hearts in which God chooses to dwell. The interior walls of our hearts, like the walls of our houses, are decorated with memories from our childhood. Some of them are pleasant and others we might like to forget, but they are there and they tell the story of who we are to whomever we invite inside. Sometimes we are content to keep what is contained in our hearts securely locked away from the outside world for fear of being hurt, or worse, rejected. Instead we remain content living within the sanctuary we have created for ourselves. We stay where we feel safe.

However, the real problem is that, like the business, we were created with a need to establish relationships with one another. The community that we build by inviting others into our hearts is what gives us life. God has created each one of us not for ourselves but for the other. Like the business and the customer, we cannot be ourselves without our neighbor. It is for this reason that God gives us the commandment to love our neighbors as He has loved us. In order for us to experience the love that is the Most Holy Trinity in our own hearts, we must be willing to open wide the doors and invite others inside.

I am not suggesting that we stop being cautious altogether and simply take down all of the walls and doors that have been constructed in our lives. I merely have come to realize that the beauty of a neighborhood, a town, a nation, or even the world is only to be found in the love that is capable of existing between one another. This love can be found deep in our hearts and is sometimes hidden behind many walls. However, it is a love that no thief, government, civil war, or other tragedy can take away from us. It is a love that no material possession, worldly pleasure, or political candidate can promise to give you. It is a love that does not discriminate against the unemployed, the elderly, the indigenous, the poor, the rich, etc. This love is a beauty that will shine brilliantly in the eyes of those who are allowed to glimpse it. It is a beauty that cannot be captured in a photograph or printed in a brochure. It is a beauty that is available by invitation only. Each of us has already been invited by God to partake in the beauty that is found in the Sacred Heart of Jesus. It is the same beauty that lies in each of our hearts. It is a beauty that is intended to be given away freely, without cost, and without attachments. Only in this love do we fulfill our vocation, our calling, to be children of God. Only in this way can we truly find the treasure we are all searching for. Our only task is to extend the invitation to those around us and allow them to see us for who we really are.

As for me, I am only an extranjero who is passing through Antigua. But while I have been here I have learned more than the language. I have learned that when the next person comes knocking at the door of my heart, my response will be, “Pase. ¡Adelante!”

El Sembrador – “The seed sower”

2011-07-10T19:00:00.001-05:00

Last night two of my friends went with me to see the movie Inception as a cinema here in Antigua, Guatemala. All of us have seen the movie before, but when your options of things to do on a Saturday night is limited, going to watch a free movie doesn’t seem like such a bad idea. For those of you who have not seen the movie yet, stop reading this, rent/buy the movie, and read this later. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait…

Ok, if you kept reading without watching the movie then I don’t feel bad for the spoiler that is about to come in the next few sentences. The general premise of the movie is that a group of people who possess the technology to extract ideas from people’s subconscious while they are dreaming attempt to implant an idea into someone’s head. As the story unravels we find out that not only is it possible to plant an idea but the leader of the group (DiCaprio’s character) has actually done it. DiCaprio’s character planted an idea in his wife’s mind that became so powerful that it took over her life. Eventually it caused her to be unable to distinguish what is real and what isn’t. The simple suggestion by her husband in a dream-like state was enough to change her entire life and eventually would lead her to her death. Don’t blame me for the spoiler, I warned you!

I bring this up not to give you a commentary or a review of one of Hollywood’s greatest movies. While I was watching this movie last night it added fuel to a fire that had been burning in my mind all week. As I have been praying with the gospel reading for this week (Sower and the seed), I have been fixed on the thought of how much power our words can have in another person’s life.

Most of the times I have previously focused on this passage of Scripture (Mt 13:1-23), I have focused on Christ as the sower, the Word of God as the seed, and us as the soil. Honestly, this is probably the best exegesis of the passage (since in this case Jesus is the exegete) and I don’t intend to change it. I have always focused on what type of soil can be found in my heart. Will the Word of God, when sown in my direction, find itself falling on rock ground, dry arid soil, or the rich fertile soil that is necessary for it to take root and bear fruit. This meditation has served me well in the past and I am sure will serve me well in the future.

However, this week I have been looking at the parable from the other side. As baptized Christians we too are called to join in Christ’s mission and be sowers of His Word in the life of others. Many times we are aware of our mission and make intentional efforts to evangelize either through word or deed. Occasionally we are guilty of sowing the seed of God’s Word only in those areas where we think it will take root and bear fruit. We decided that there is no point in wasting seed or effort on rocky and infertile ground. Other times we stumble across the fruit of God’s seed being planted in fertile soil and wonder how it got there. Who was the sower in this situation? Was it me? What did I say?

There have been several times in my life when I knew that my words would deeply impact the person who would hear them. Anyone who has been a police officer for any period of time knows what it is like to tell a set of parents that their child will not be coming home. At the time of this event in my life, I knew very well what pain and sorrow would follow the words that I had to share. I had received a similar call just a few months before. To keep up with the analogy of the gospel, I knew what kind of seed I was sowing. What I did not know was what kind of fruit it would bear. I had no way of knowing that this event would forever have an impact of my life of faith and my relationship with God. While I expected weeds to grow in this situation, I was surprised by some of the most beautiful flowers that God could create.

I am also well aware of the effects that other people’s words have had in my life. Some of them were cast in my direction with the intention of causing me pain or injury. Others were said in a careless manner but took root nonetheless and had a great impact in my life. Like the weeds among the wheat, some of them have simply remained for fear of uprooting the wheat along with the weeds.

What’s my point? This week I have been reminded that my words, whether I directly intend them too or not can have a powerful effect on the lives of others. I have had several conversations with people only to have them come back several days later and thank me for having said what I said. Some of the conversations were nothing more than a smile and a simple “hello” or “howdy.” Other times the conversations lasted for hours and covered a wide variety of topics. To be honest, most of the time I don’t even recall what was said. Other times I have shared stories about my life with others and then later sat and wondered why I revealed that much about myself to another person. It was only later that I would discover that the person found something in what I had to say that was useful to them.

At the same time I have realized that my words have (at times) had a negative effect on those around me as well. My complaining about one situation or another can cause those around me to also become negative about a given situation. My careless use of speech can cause another person a great deal of pain or hurt. My lack of humility at times or my moments of intolerance have the potential to affect someone’s faith life. I guess what I am trying to say it that there is a greater amount of responsibility that each of us bears in terms of choosing our words carefully. It is a responsibility that each of us has as baptized Christians. We are both the sower and the soil.

So, this week, instead of focusing on what type of soil is in my heart and whether or not God’s word will take root there, I am focusing on becoming more aware of the potential effects (both positive and negative) my words can have on the lives of those around me. I am going to try and make sure that I am not planting seeds that will grow into weeds and choke the life out of the wheat that should be growing there instead.

Pax tecum,
Tom

“Poco a Poco”

2011-07-03T19:36:00.002-05:00

“Little by Little.” This little phrase quickly became my motto for my time here in Antigua, Guatemala. As I have mentioned before, I have been assigned to a Spanish immersion program in Antigua for eight weeks this summer. In addition to taking six hours of class each day, I spend part of my time walking around the city, taking trips to other parts of the country, and speaking with my family and other locals in an attempt to learn a little bit about the culture of the ‘Guatemaltecos’. I must admit that it has been a slow process for me, both in learning Spanish and in learning to appreciate the many different cultures that are present here. I have come to realize that my lack of patience extends well beyond my attempts to bridge the cultural gaps and to learn a foreign language. I realize, as I have said in other posts, that God is using this time to teach me not only Spanish, but another language that only the heart can speak and understand.

It did not take me long in Antigua to realize that my expectations for learning the entire Spanish language in eight weeks were completely unreasonable. For some reason I had it in my head that for this summer to be a true success, I had to return to the States being fluent in Spanish. Each day as I would sit in class, I would become extremely frustrated with what I perceived to be my own lack of progress. I get frustrated when learning the subtle differences between the Pluscuamperfecto and the Present Perfect tense. I get frustrated by my inability to fully express what I want to say when I am having a spiritual conversation with my teacher. I have found it extremely frustrating to have something that you really want to say but don’t have the means or the capacity to say it. It is like having a gift that you desperately want to give but for one reason or other are unable to let go of it. My teacher can see the frustration written all over my face. After about 5.5 hours she can see me slowly shutting down. My progress comes to a near halt as my frustration sets in and dominates my demeanor.

However, the true problem lies not in the fact that I am not making progress in learning Spanish. The truth is I have made a great deal of progress in the last four weeks. The real problem lies in my perspective. The problem is the set of discolored lenses through which I view my own progress. At times the lenses are nothing more than blinders that prevent me from seeing anything. At other times they are like the ‘drunk goggles’ that police officers and educators use to teach people what it is like to drive while intoxicated. With these glasses everything seems blurry and shapes are difficult to see. At other times my blindness to my own progress seems to be similar to ‘night blindness’ that is caused by improper (or vitamin deficient) nutrition. Regardless of the cause, the inability to see my own progress becomes a rapidly spreading virus that affects the rest of my life. Sometimes the only way I can see my progress is when someone else points it out to me. In the case of learning Spanish, my teacher has repeatedly tried to point this out but, for one reason or the other, I couldn’t accept what she was saying.

Recently, I posted a few pictures of me after being in Guatemala for a few weeks. In addition to the many compliments I received about my beard (Thank you), several people told me that it looked like I have lost weight. Each time I deflected the comment and said that I don’t think I have lost weight. I told them that I feel like I have gained weight. Despite the fact that my pants are getting a little bigger (literally not figuratively) and I am on the last hole on my belt, I wasn’t ready to accept the truth of my progress in losing weight. Perhaps it was because I could not take credit for the success. After all, I have not been trying to lose weight whilst I am here. I have not been watching what I eat and I thought I had been eating too many carbs. Yesterday, I got on the scale at the local hospital (one that you pay about 12.5 cents to use) and realized that I have lost 10-11 pounds in the last month. I could not deny the progress with that degree of certainty. I can only hope that the scale is more accurate than the lottery numbers it gave me after telling me my weight. I had to ask myself, ‘Why is it that you only admit your progress when you have some degree of certainty or objective measurement that progress has been made?”

The truth is, for many things in our life, there is no objective measurement of our progress. I don’t write these reflections merely as a means of public confession or to get things off my chest. I write about myself in the hope that you find something in what I have said that allows you to draw your own conclusions about how God is working in your own life. Whether we are talking about losing weight, learning a foreign language, growing in our relationship with the Lord, reconciling with a family member or co-worker, desperately hoping that we have raised our children right and that they will make the right decisions, living in the later years of our life wondering if what we have done has made a difference and what is left for us to do, wondering if our time in a particular assignment or position has made a difference, preparing to leave the comforts of home to begin college or start a new career, struggling to grow in our spiritual lives and relationship with the Lord, or working to reconcile a marriage that seems beyond repair, we must be patient with our progress. We should take a step back and realize that at times it is difficult to see our progress from our own perspective.

For this reason we should take into account the trusted counsel of our dear friends, priests, counselors, faculty advisors, family, and most importantly, the Lord Jesus Christ. After all it is God who has designed our lives and has made plans for our lives, “plans for good and not for woe.” (Jeremiah 29:11). It is God who sees the final product and it is He who directs our hands. Our job is merely to do the task that is assigned to us each day (i.e. to love one another as He has loved us). It is God who is the master builder of all of Creation and will be there in the end to see His plans brought to fruition. With this in mind I am reminded of a poem by the late Archbishop Oscar Romero called the “Long View.” I hope you won’t mind me sharing it with you now even though this is already a long post:

It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view.
The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision.
We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God’s work.
Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying that the Kingdom always lies beyond us.

No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith.
No confession brings perfection.
No pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No program accomplishes the Church’s mission.
No set of goals and objectives includes everything.

This is what we are about.
We plant the seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.
We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.
We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.
This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.
It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest.
We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker.

We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not our own. – Archbishop Oscar Romero

With this prayer from Archbishop Romero in mind as well as the examples provided above I offer my own prayer for myself and perhaps for some of you as well (if you think it applies to you):

Almighty God and Father, thank you for allowing me to play a small part in building up your kingdom. Help me to focus on the task at hand each and every day. Help me to follow your plans and design for my life and avoid relying on my own intelligence (Prov 3:5-6) or passions in directing my life. Guide my hands, my words, my actions, and my desires to complete the work you want me to do each day. Grant me the grace to abandon my own desires of seeing the final product before its proper time. Allow me to love each day knowing that this is the most important task you have given me. Help me to trust in the fact that progress is being made towards living a life in full communion with you especially in those times when I can’t see it. Help me to continue this progress, even if it is “poco a poco.”

Pax tecum,
Tom

“Entremos a la presencia del Señor dándole gracias.”

2011-06-28T08:53:00.003-05:00

“Let us enter into the presence of the Lord giving him thanks.” This phrase is taken from the Invitatory for Monday Week I in the Liturgy of the Hours. As I prayed this simple line this morning, I realized that it summed up for me most of what I have felt God has been trying to tell me for the past few weeks. In this post (just shy of a public confession) I hope to share with you how I have come to understand what this line means for me and my life. In doing so, my prayer is that you will benefit in some way as well.

I must confess that I often fail to be grateful for the many gifts that God has given me in my life. Chances are if you are reading this, you are one of those gifts in my life. I tend to think that I am not alone when I say that I tend to focus on the things that have been taken away from me or the things that I lack rather than appreciate all that I have been given. I have become very good at determining what is missing from a given situation and how I would change things to make them better. I often bemoan the loss of a prized possession such as my car, my house, my proximity to friends and family, my career, or perhaps simply the opportunity to have more quiet time. No matter how big or how small the item, I have at times measured my life not by what has been given, but by what has been taken away.

Recently, it seems like there have been a lot of big changes in my life including changes in my relationships with friends, family, pastors, other seminarians, etc. Many of these changes I did / do not appreciate. Admittedly, I am still working with a few of them in order to see them as gifts. In the past few weeks I have caught myself assembling a list of complaints of things that I would like to change in my life one way or the other. I have realized that instead of the items of the list growing smaller in number, the list tends to increase exponentially as the days pass by. This leads to an overall sense of dissatisfaction or a feeling of ‘missing the mark.’ I chose my words here carefully because the Greek word used most often for ‘sin’ in the Bible is harmartia (αρμαρτια) which loosely translated means ‘to miss the mark.’ The sin then is my lack of gratefulness to God for the gifts he has freely given me and my dwelling instead on what has been seemingly been unjustly taken away.

These past few weeks in Guatemala have helped me appreciate many things in my life that I have taken for granted. Don’t worry this will not be an outpouring of Catholic guilt where I renounce all forms of capitalism and a competitive free market because of the material poverty I have seen here; nor will it be a discourse on Catholic social teaching and a more just distribution of wealth in the world (although that one may be coming later). A few examples to help give you the idea of what I am talking about are: waking up in the morning without running water and being unable to take a shower, sleeping in a place with loud trucks outside my window at 4am and a rooster who likes to crow about his long lost love for hours on end beginning promptly at 3:30am, not being able to drink the water from the tap, having to walk in the rain everyday (I know I shouldn’t even bring this one up right now with a Texas audience but there is such a thing as too much rain!), not being able to run out and grab a Whataburger and a Shiner Bock beer, etc. These are just a few of the little things that I miss. However, I still haven’t gotten to my point have I?

This past weekend nine other seminarians and I went on what should have been a spiritual retreat at a Benedictine Monastery and minor seminary in Quetzaltenango (the Mayan name for the city is Xela). Many of us were looking forward to periods of silent prayer free of the noise that we seemed to be unable to escape from in Antigua. I can honestly say that arriving at the seminary was a breathtaking experience. This wasn’t as much due to the beautiful landscape as it was to the fact that we were over 7,500 ft above sea level and I was having trouble adjusting. When we arrived at the seminary after a 4.5 hour bus ride on a less than comfortable school bus with complimentary motion sickness, we were less than pleased to find out that nine of us would be sharing a single room with one bathroom. We were even more surprised as we joined the other seminarians for dinner only to discover how well we have actually been eating in Antigua. I admit that initially I was less than grateful for the food that was put on the plate before me. There were several other experiences including cold showers, a jam packed schedule of activities, and rush hour traffic in the city that left at least some of us wondering why we came in the first place. My list of complaints was growing.

When I woke up Sunday morning and took another cold shower and choked down a horrible cup of coffee, I sat down to pray my rosary. As I continued to pray I realized that I could not hear anything other than the birds chirping outside. It was quiet. Many of the other guys were still asleep and I was able to spend some quiet time in prayer. Whether it was the Holy Spirit or my own guilt ridden conscience (definitely the first but perhaps both), I realized how ungrateful I have been for the many gifts in my life. After three weeks of trying to explain the English expression “you can’t see the forest for the trees” to my Spanish teacher, I realized that despite the number of times I had uttered this phrase I did not realize that I should be saying it to myself. I have been so focused on the things in my life that have been taken away or that I still lack (both material and non-material things) that I have been blind to the many gifts that God has given me. I am so hyper-aware of the perceived faults in others, or the manner in which I am sometimes annoyed by them, that I fail to see them as the gift that they are. At times I focus more on the ways in which my life in the seminary could be better than I do appreciating what my time in the seminary has done for my life. I find myself overlooking the many generous people (I am talking about you here! Please listen!) who make it possible for me to discern the Lord’s call. During this short time of praying the rosary and meditation my mind was flooded with all that I have to be grateful for.

For the rest of the day I tried to play a little game. Every time I saw something that I perceived to be negative or anytime I was tempted to complain, I tried to find one or two things for which I was thankful. Admittedly, I was pretty terrible at this game in the beginning. As time went by throughout the day, I found myself being increasingly grateful even for the small crosses that were placed in my path. I intentionally tried to thank God for each moment of the day. In the particularly tough moments, I asked for the grace to see the gift in the situation. I could feel the change slowly taking place. Later that night, as the neighbor’s dog and the rooster entered into a heated discussion for two hours (presumably about whether dogs or roosters are louder) from 4-6am, I found myself giving thanks that at least I had a roof over my head and a warm bed. When I woke up to running water that wasn’t going to give me frostbite, I gave thanks. When I received emails from two very dear friends that put a smile on my face, I gave thanks. When I was able to make a housemate feel appreciated on his birthday even though he is a far distance from home, I gave thanks. When a friend invited me to go across town to the Cathedral to spend time in adoration before going to Mass, I gave thanks. As I sit here writing this reflection, knowing that you are reading it, I am giving thanks for the part you have played in my life and my journey to the priesthood (Ojala!). As a result, I find that I am beginning to feel a great sense of joy in my heart. Perhaps today was just a good day. Perhaps there was no big conversion and I won’t continue to be grateful for the rest of my life. Perhaps I will return to my old ways and complain more than I give thanks. Perhaps these thoughts were a result of a high-altitude induced state of oxygen deprivation. Whatever the case, I can tell you that I am at least increasing my efforts to being a man of the ‘Eucharist’ in the true sense of the word (thanksgiving). I am trying to be more like the one leper who returned to give thanks after he was cured rather than one of the nine who simply walked away. As a result, the scales are slowly falling from my eyes and I like what I see. With the clearer vision my aim is improving and is allowing me to hit the mark more than I miss it.

Oh yeah, by the way, the forest is actually pretty beautiful once you take your eyes off the one tree and look around a little. I am sorry that I don’t have a picture of it to show you, but then again, it is probably better that we all take a look for ourselves.

Please pray for me as I am praying for all of you. “Entremos a la presencia del Señor dándole gracias.”

Pax tecum,
Tom

Un Extranjero en Una Tierra Extranjera (“A foreign man in a foreign land)

2011-06-20T14:58:00.000-05:00

For the last two weeks I have been studying Spanish in Antigua, Guatemala. This eight week immersion program is a part of my priestly formation. The program is intended not only to teach us the Spanish language but also to allow us to learn the cultures of various countries so that we may one day better serve the people of Central Texas. I can tell you that I have had many educational experiences in the first two weeks both inside and outside of the classroom. I have been quite surprised by some of these experiences and I hope to periodically share them with you throughout the summer.

Let me begin my first reflection by saying that I am not a ‘world traveler’. Apart from two prior mission trips to Guatemala, a cruise to Mexico, and a trip to World Youth Day in Australia, I have not traveled that much outside of the United States. As a result, my exposure to the different cultures the world has to offer has been minimal. I can remember that when I arrived in Guatemala for the first time three years ago I was in such culture shock that I was not able to talk much for the first 24 hours. When it came time to leave for Guatemala two weeks ago, I felt well prepared and was sure that I would not be overcome by the change in the cultural setting. So far, the adjustment has not been that difficult. The ease of the transition probably has something to do with the fact that Antigua is packed with foreigners from all parts of the world. However, despite the ease of the transition this time, there have been some surprises.

I am currently living in a house that is operated by a lady by the name of Soñia who has two children (a son 25 yoa and a daughter 21 yoa). The house has five bedrooms that are rented out to students and travelers. Since I have been here for two weeks I have had housemates from Austin, TX (can’t escape the t-sips here either), Holland, Canada, Japan, the Philippines, and Atlanta, GA. Suffice to say there have been some interesting conversations around the dinner table. When I first arrived at the house I had some difficulty communicating with the host family and the other students. My Spanish clearly was not good enough to allow me to do more than communicate a few basic sentences and ask the essential questions (¿Dónde está el baño? for example). However, as time has gone on we have learned to communicate with one another. I think that we have all gone to great lengths to help one another communicate. At one point the conversation went from Japanese to French to English to Spanish and back again. However, based on the fact that we were all patient and working together we were all able to feel a little more at home and were able to share our lives and laughs with one another. Eventually, we began to feel like one family instead of many individuals.

The first few days of walking around the city were slightly intimidating. Antigua is a bustling town of 30,000 people but is packed with tourists and is full of activity on every street corner. Crossing the street at times can be much like playing a game of Frogger (old Atari videogame where you had to dodge cars as a frog crossed the street). Although the streets are laid out in a grid system, many of the buildings look alike and the streets are not well marked. Therefore, if you forget that the giant volcano is to the South of the city, you could easily get turned around. However, most of the people I encountered were very helpful. Many of the locals at least attempt to speak English in order to communicate with the hundreds of foreigners that flood the city each week. The signs on all the stores are in both English in Spanish. There are tourist police officers all around town in order to ensure our safety. Tourism is obviously a big industry in this town and so I was not too surprised that many of the locals would cater to their guests and try to provide them with a little taste of home. One does not have to walk far before they find a restaurant that literally provides a taste of home. In short, the town welcomes its visitors and does what it can to help them adapt to life in Antigua for the time that they are here. I don’t mean to imply that there aren’t those who are less than welcoming. In fact, some of our teachers have told us that they have been threatened for helping the foreigners since they do not receive much help when they come to our country. However, people of this opinion seem to be the minority.

Despite catering to the many different cultures that flock to Antigua for its language schools and colonial heritage, the city has not lost its own cultural identity as one of the oldest towns in Guatemala. The buildings are beautifully painted and many of the churches that have been destroyed several times over by earthquakes have been restored. Throughout all of these restorations the city has managed to maintain its colonial feel and its Spanish and Mayan heritage. There is no watering down of the culture here by the people’s attempts to welcome their guests. In short, Antigua has found a way to welcome many of its ‘extranjeros’ (foreigners) in a way that not only caters to their needs but also maintains the rich heritage of the Guatemala people.

Why am I bringing all of this up? Well, to be honest, I have been thinking a lot about how seriously I take the gospel’s mandate to welcome the stranger and attempt to build unity with peoples of every race and tongue. I have also been reading a lot about how immigrants are being treated back home. Just recently I read an article about a Texas Senator who spoke harshly to a man who was speaking in his native language (Spanish) before a Senate committee. The Senator felt that since the man lived in Texas for more than twenty years he should speak in English. The Senator felt that it was an insult to the people of Texas for this man to speak in the language in which he was most comfortable. In another story, one that is more tragic, the news coverage of the death of a police officer in Texas seemed to be more concerned with the offender’s illegal status than with the loss of a hero. This is not going to be a political commentary on the immigration. That is not my place nor do I wish to enter into the debate. I simply bring up these stories as examples of what I have perceived to be a noticeable prejudice against immigrants and other cultures ‘taking over’ our great state of Texas. I have heard it said many times (and have said it myself), ‘if you are going to live here, speak English). I have often thought that if someone chooses to live in Texas then they should adapt their ways to ours.

These may not be your views but I will admit that at one time they were mine. I will admit that I did not see the need to write signs in stores and street signs in multiple languages. I did not see the need to have government documents written in multiple languages. I did not see the need to have special restaurants, areas of town, or special clothing shops that catered to people of other cultures. After all, ‘those people’ chose to come to ‘my’ country, right?

All I want to say is that after experiencing being a foreigner in a foreign land myself, I have a greater appreciation for the efforts that are made to welcome me and make me feel a bit more at home. No matter how long I am here, I don’t think you would ever see me wearing the traditional Mayan dress or speaking a Mayan language. If I chose to move here permanently I would do my best to learn the language and live according to local custom, However, I would never want to be forced to give up my American culture (whatever that is). I would still like the opportunity to pray in my native language and to celebrate the customs of my home country. I would do my best to adapt myself to my new surroundings while holding on to my cultural identity. I would not simply become a Guatemalteco and do as they do.

But I also realize that the idea of welcoming the stranger applies beyond the realm of immigration and international travel. What about the strange student who walks the halls of our school? What about the difficult or somewhat eccentric co-worker that is often avoided or over-looked? What about the people who live next door to us? What about that family member who we haven’t talked to in years because of some previous injury or insult? What about that new seminarian or faculty member at the seminary? What about the person sitting next to us in Church or the family that is new to our parish? What about the priest(s) or minister(s) who is (are) new to our Church? What about people of other faiths that we encounter in our daily lives? How far am I willing to go out of my way to welcome these people? Am I able to welcome them in a way that allows them to maintain some of their own identity without forcing them to conform to my ways in order to be accepted? How seriously do I take Jesus’ words ‘that they may all be one?’ How hard do I work to build community and welcome the stranger around me? Admittedly, I have not done a great job of it. After the experiences of this summer, I can tell you that I will renew my efforts. Will you join me?

Pax tecum,
Tom

PS. The experience of this summer is presented merely as a springboard to further reflection regarding how well I welcome a stranger in my own ‘land’. I am not attempting to make any political statements regarding immigration reform. ‘Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s and render unto God what is God’s.’ I am simply reflecting on how I am living the teachings of the gospel in my own life and focusing on ways in which I can improve my efforts. Please don’t misread this post and think that I am attacking any political system or group of people. If I am pointing the finger at anyone, I only mean to point it at myself.

In the Arms of My Father...

2011-03-11T21:45:00.002-06:00

Greetings All,

All my bags are packed...I'm ready to go...I'm leavin' on a jet plane. That's right folks I am busting out of seminary for a week (they left the gate open...jk). Five of my brother seminarians and I are headed to Guatemala with the medical mission team from St. Thomas Aquinas Catholic Church. Please pray for us while we are gone as we will be praying for all of you. We will return on Saturday, March 19th. My annual review at the seminary is three days after my return. Please pray for that as well. Until then, I wanted to share with you this reflection I wrote during a day of prayer last month. I debated whether or not to share it. You can't say you don't know me very well after you have read this. I don't hold much back. I hope it helps you in your own journey to the Father.

Pax tecum,
Tom

“In the Arms of My Father”
By Tom Reitmeyer

A few days ago, at about eight o’clock in the morning, I called my best friend as he was leaving work (he works the night shift). Since we live almost one hundred miles apart it is difficult for us to spend as much time with one another as we used to. We attempt to overcome the distance with these short telephone conversations. While our varied schedules keep the calls from being as often, or as long, as I may like for them to be, I certainly treasure the few minutes a week we do get to talk to one another.

A few minutes into this most recent conversation, I could tell by the sound of a garage door being opened that my friend had arrived home. Several seconds later, I heard him chuckle and say to me, “Hah! My son (seven months old) is just sitting on the floor and looking up at me with a huge grin on his face.” My friend didn’t need to say anything more to tell me what he was feeling. I know him well enough that, by the sound of his voice, I had a pretty good idea of how that smile from his son made him feel. A moment later, I heard the voice of his daughter (three years old) yell with great joy, “Daddy! You’re home!” While not being able to see what was going on, from past experience I had a pretty good idea that she ran across the room and leaped into his arms. For those children, one of the best parts of their morning is seeing their father come home and hold them in his arms. The younger one is only able to reach his arms up toward his father and ask to be picked up, while the older one is able to sprint across the room and leap into her father’s arms. I knew that our time on the phone needed to end. I told him I loved him and said that I didn’t want to keep him from his family. The children wanted/needed their father and I knew that he needed them as well.

One of my great joys in life, and a real blessing from God, has been to watch my friend become both a loving husband to his wife and a loving father to his children. I get a great amount of joy from just sitting in the same room and watching him play with his kids. I love the way that he wrestles with them. I love the way they make each other laugh. It’s one of the greatest sounds in this world. I love the way that he consoles them when they are sad or not feeling well. I love watching how much it pains him to discipline them when he needs to. I always thought that parents just threw out that cliché line, “this will hurt me more than it hurts you,” but now as an adult, I see that there is a certain amount of truth in that statement. As I watch my friend with his children, I get an ever increasing sense of what it means to be a father who loves his children immensely.

I don’t need to look very far to find the person who taught my friend to love this way. After only a few times of seeing my friend with his own father, I began to understand. What is truly awesome for me to see is that the love and admiration is not only from son to father, but also father to son. There has been a few times where I have seen them say goodbye to one another after a visit. I am always impressed that there is no hesitation from either one to give the other a hug and say, “I love you.” Despite the distance that is created as one or the other travels back to his home, I know that my friend keeps his father with him always. After years of being a child who was once held by his father to his chest, my friend not only holds his own children close to him, but continues to hold his father as well. What a lesson for me!

As a seminarian who is studying to be a Catholic Priest, I am often called to spend time praying and reflecting on what it means to be a ‘Father’ to God’s children. Part of my formation (in life not just in seminary) is to learn what it means to be a father who loves his children immensely. Although I have a wonderful example in watching my friend and his family, I must also look to my own relationships to discern the ways in which I have been taught a father’s love. To be honest, that is at times a painful journey and one which I do not always want to undertake. However, over the past few years, God the Father has taken my hand and led me along this path and I want to share some of those thoughts with you in the hopes that you may consider your own relationship with not only your own human father, but also your Father in Heaven.

This year will mark nineteen years since the death of my father in 1992. It is odd to think that I have spent more of my life without my father physically present than I have spent with him. I have spent a great portion of my life lamenting the fact that my father died when I was young. I felt cheated out of many of the experiences that my friends got to have with their father. Sure, there were father-figures (brothers, coaches, priests, teachers, etc) in my life that stepped in and tried to fill the void, but the shoe never quite fit. As a result, I had a difficult time understanding how my Heavenly Father, who according to Scripture would never abandon me, had left me without a father in this world not only to love me as his son, but also to show me how to love as a father. I felt abandoned. I was angry, even more so after the death of my oldest brother in 2006. You see, my oldest brother was not only one of the many “father-figures” and friends in my life, but, as a Catholic Priest, he was also my spiritual father. Where was the love of my Father? Why was He abandoning me? How am I to become a father if there is no one there to teach me?

These were many of the questions that I have struggled with for the past five years or so. I have prayed with them many times and rarely have I come up with any answers. After years of wondering why God wasn’t answering me, I eventually realized that the only way for me to hear His response was to be silent, free myself of all the distractions, worries, and fears in order to listen. I had to provide a time of silence so that, as Blessed Cardinal Newman would say, cor ad cor loquitor (heart speaks to heart). It was in this time of silence during a retreat in Omaha, NE, that I received my answer.

It was during the third day of an eight day silent retreat that I was asked to pray with a passage from the Book of Hosea (Hos 11:1-4):

When Israel was a child I loved him,
out of Egypt I called my son.
The more I called them,
The farther they went from me,
Sacrificing to the Baals
And burning incense to idols.
Yet it was I who taught Ephraim to walk,
Who took them in my arms;
I drew them with human cords,
With bands of love;
I fostered them like one
Who raises an infant to his cheeks;
Yet, though I stooped to feed my child,
They did not know that I was their healer.

It was this last verse that really stopped me in my tracks and for that reason I have put it in boldface print. When, Father, were the times that you drew me in with bands of love? When, Father, were the times that you held me to your cheeks like an infant? When, Father, were the times that my father here on earth did those things? In what way was I loved by him and by you?

I began to reflect back on my life and was surprised as memories that I had previously forgotten or was unable to recall began to flood my mind. I began to consider the times in my life when I remembered being held in my father’s arms. I remembered a time when we lived in Virginia when I was about three years old. I was hiding in the bushes with my brother as my father arrived home in a taxi cab. I remembered running and leaping into his arms to greet him as he came home. I remembered being held by my father upside down by my ankles (as was the tradition) when I received my Bobcat badge in Cub Scouts. I remembered some of the times when I wanted my father to hold me but he couldn’t, especially after his illness and subsequent death. But most especially, I remembered a time when my father and I sat on a dam in the middle of a river at a place called Five Mile Dam. I was probably five or six-years-old at the time and I was sitting on my father’s lap as he held me in his arms. In that moment of prayer in Omaha in the year 2010, I could see the smile on my father’s face as he proudly held his son. I could feel the coolness of the water and could smell it as well. I could feel the joy of being a child in his father’s arms. It was a reminder to me that not only did my biological father love me but I was also a beloved son of God the Father who desperately wants me to allow Him to hold me in His arms.

The next day of the retreat I was invited to consider the six years my father suffered from a massive stroke that he had approximately two or three years after this experience in the river. I could feel his sadness, anger, disappointment, frustration, and sense of abandonment. A great sense of compassion welled up inside of me and tears streamed down my face as Jesus allowed me to experience what my father felt. It was a compassion that replaced previous feelings of anger and resentment. I had never considered my father’s experience of his illness. My father passed away when I was thirteen and as you can imagine left me with a significant wound in my heart. God was in the process of healing this. Jesus then placed me back in the scene in the river. This time I was the five-year-old boy who knew everything that his father would experience in the remaining eight years of his life. Instead of my father holding me, I placed my head on his shoulder, embraced him, and attempted to console him. I felt a great sense of love and compassion for my father. I was also grateful as I realized that God felt the same way towards me as His son. God knows all of the joys and sorrows that I will experience and He seeks to be with me in the middle of all of them.

Lest I be fooled by this moment and think that it was wishful thinking on my part, I remembered that a photographer for a local newspaper (Onion Creek Free Press) had captured the moment on film and published the picture the next week. I had a copy of the photo for many years but have since lost track of it. What a gift it would be to have it back! The photo was only a silhouette of the two of us. It was a photo of a proud father who was holding his son. It was a photo of a son who made his father smile with a smile of his own. It was a photo of the type of love described in the Book of Hosea. It could have been anyone, but it wasn’t. It was me in my father’s arms. What a gift from my Father to recall that moment and to have it made present to me again! There is much more to that prayer experience, but I think that I have shared enough for now to make my point.

So what is the point that I am trying to share with you? I have learned from both my friend and my own father what it means for a father to love his children. I have also learned that the love a father has for his children is unconditional and everlasting. I have learned that a child is one of the greatest sources of joy for his/her parents. However, it is not enough for me merely to learn how to love as a father loves his children. No, that simply won’t be enough to make me a good priest, a good Christian, or a good man. I must also learn to allow myself to be loved as the beloved son of my Father in Heaven. Like Jesus Christ, the only Son of God the Father, I must learn that in the hour of my greatest need, the moment when I think the cross is too much to bear, the hour when I feel abandoned, I must do like he did during his agony in the garden: fall to my knees in prayer, raise my hands to the sky, and cry out “Abba (daddy)!” Like Israel, I must come to realize that I am a child who is loved by his Father. In every moment of my life, whether I have been aware of it or not, I have been held like an infant to my Father’s cheeks. As my Father has continued to call me to Him from my place in Egypt (a place of slavery), I have, at times, increased the distance between us. And while there have been many difficult moments in my life (death of family members, tragic situations in police-work, feelings of rejection or loneliness, etc) where I have felt abandoned, where I have felt like a crying infant waiting to be picked up and consoled by his Father, my Father in Heaven, like my earthly father, has always taken me in His arms and held me to his cheek with bands of love. The bands were in the form of: the love of a friend who teaches me to be a father, the love of the many people in my life who never allow me to feel abandoned despite the increasing distance, the love of those who have waited patiently for me to come back from Egypt, the love of those who I will one day serve as their spiritual father, and most especially the moments of prayer where I am once again able to be held in my Father’s arms. For me, prayer is sometimes as simple as placing myself in the arms of my Father and remaining there in order to receive His love.

My prayer is that in reading this reflection, you will reflect on your own experience of both your earthly father and your Heavenly Father. Know that despite whatever distance there may be between you and your Heavenly Father or whatever event(s) in your life (divorce, cancer, loss of a spouse, loss of a child, loss of any kind, depression, etc) may cause you to feel abandoned by Him, He is always there to hold you in His arms. Like my friend, and many other people in your life, you must be able to realize that there are times where we are called to love as the Father loves us, but there are also times where we need to allow ourselves to be the children who desperately want to be in His arms. All you have to do is make that time where you can quietly sit with Him, smile up at Him, put out your arms as a request to be picked up, and allow Him to hold you. If you will permit the anthropomorphic language, put a smile on His face, give Him great joy, and let Him hear you say with excitement, “Daddy! I’m home!”

Should we pay or should we not pay?

2011-03-07T22:49:00.001-06:00

The following is a brief reflection that I will give at the end of one of my classes today. It is based on the gospel reading for Tuesday, March 8th, 2011. Mk 12:13-17

Pax tecum,
Tom

Should we pay or should we not pay?

This year, for the first time in sixteen years, I will not file a tax return. After two and a half years of being a seminarian, I no longer have any reportable income that requires me to pay Federal Income Tax. And yet, there is the distinct feeling that this year I will pay a higher tax than I have previously.

As seminarians we are asked to devote ourselves to a demanding academic schedule combined with various meetings, appointments, ministries, and other events. We are asked to submit ourselves to the authority of the faculty and ask permission for things that we would not previously have given a second thought. We are asked to embrace a life of gospel simplicity, celibacy, and obedience. We are asked to endure Friday afternoon group formation practices and to learn to speak with a cork in our mouth (don’t worry, it’s coming). Yes, as seminarians, there are ‘taxes’ to be paid.

And often times the payment of these taxes seems to stand in direct opposition to what it is we would rather do or even what we think we should be doing. I would rather immerse myself in a life of contemplative prayer. I would rather be back in the parish engaged in active ministry. I would rather feed the homeless, clothe the naked, visit the sick and imprisoned. I would rather try to figure out a way to allow myself to relax and recreate in a healthy way. Yes, there are many good things that I would rather do than pay my taxes.

So should I pay or should I not pay? This is the very question posed to Jesus by the Pharisees and Herodians who were sent to trap him in a no-win situation. In their minds no matter what answer Jesus gave them, he would lead himself into great peril. Either he would lose the support of the people or he would be reported to Caesar for acts of sedition.

This is the same false dichotomy that is presented by the Pharisees of my own heart and I dare say I am not alone in this. We are led to believe that paying the taxes of seminary formation and being faithful to a life of prayer and service are somehow mutually exclusive. We become imbalanced as we seek to fulfill the demands of one and neglect the other. At times, we find ourselves asking for extensions in order to avoid a timely payment of the taxes; or we become so concerned with completing every single task on time and to the best of our ability, that we completely ignore our times of prayer and communion with God.

But Jesus shows us another way. He does not simply choose one option over the other but instead institutes the long standing Catholic Tradition of the ‘both/and.’ Jesus tells us that it is possible to repay Caesar what belongs to him and also to God what belongs to him. Having heard this, I am, like the Pharisees utterly amazed at his answer. Not only for his elusive escape from the trap that had been laid before him but also at the notion that such a ‘both/and’ response is actually possible.

For as I stand here today I recognize that, while I may have the capacity, I do not yet have the ability to discern the proper balance between the demands of seminary formation and a complete rendering of myself to God. Frankly, I am challenged by the very idea that such a balance exists.

Thankfully, I do not have to find such a balance on my own. For just as God has given us certified public accountants to help us avoid the dreaded audit of the Internal Revenue Service, he has given us formation advisors, professors, spiritual directors, and I think most importantly, he has given us one another, so that together we may help each other prepare ourselves for the final rendering of accounts. And remember, as with any other accounting, in order for the numbers to match up in the end, it is often necessary to forgive a debt or two.

Becoming Perfect...

2011-02-18T17:21:00.005-06:00

I find myself once again apologizing and trying to explain why it has been so long since my last post. I have learned that there are times in seminary when it is best for me to keep quiet. It may be a time when a lot is going on spiritually and I need to take time to sort it all out. It may be a time when little is going on spiritually and therefore do not have much to share. Other times, it is simply a matter of finding the time to craft these reflections. I have a lot to say as of late and there is much I would like to share with you. I had a particular order in which I wanted to share several of my reflections, but I think the lectionary and the readings for this weekend have somewhat forced my hand. So, for now, I hope you will enjoy this reflection I wrote on what it means to be 'perfect.' I wrote the reflection as a result of prayer during my silent retreat in January. I was asked to give the reflection to the Second Year Theology class here at the seminary. They seemed to receive it well and I hope that you will find something useful in it as well. Here we go...

"Becoming Perfect" by Tom Reitmeyer

Throughout my formation in seminary, and to be honest, for most of my life, I have struggled with perfectionism. Like most people I have my ideas of what it means to be perfect. I have not only struggled with living up to my own standards of what it means to be perfect but also realize that, at times, I have grown quite used to pointing out the imperfections of others as well. I seem to have this sense of what it means to be perfect deeply ingrained in my mind and have come to realize it as being a real obstacle to my further growth. I have spent a lot of time recently thinking and praying about what it means to be perfect and who it is that God is calling me to be, not only in the future, but right now, today. This reflection, then, is a summation of those prayer experiences and an attempt to share with you an insight that has given me a new sense of freedom and peace.

Over the break I gave a lot of thought to my first semester here at St. Mary’s. I did a sort of examination of consciousness for the entire semester. Through prayer and conversations with some trusted friends, both lay and clergy, I became aware of areas for growth that I had not previously recognized or understood. I remember one day in particular when the readings at Mass seemed to be speaking directly to me. The reading from was from 1 John 4: “We have come to know and to believe in the love God has for us. God is love, and whoever remains in love remains in God and God in him. In this is love brought to perfection among us, that we have confidence on the day of judgment because as he is, so are we in this world. There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear because fear has to do with punishment, and so one who fears is not yet perfect in love…” (1 John 4:16-19).

After hearing these words I realized that they were both comforting and troubling to me. They were comforting in the sense that I knew that the fears I had regarding my formation, my life, my love of self, my vocation, etc. were not from God. There is no fear in love. At the same time I was troubled by the fact that the Scriptures used the word perfect or some other variation of the word no less than three times in three short verses. If the goal is truly to be perfect in love, how do I get there? After all, being very aware of my many shortcomings, my challenges, and my fears, perfect seems so far away….almost too far.

This is where I was spiritually as I entered into our silent retreat. I asked the Lord for the particular grace to show me how I was to become perfect in love. I asked him to increase my faith so as not to be controlled by my fears. I asked him to set me free.

On the Monday of our retreat, the second week of Ordinary time, the church prayed one of my favorite readings from Scripture (Heb 5:1-9). In these nine verses we are told of the priesthood of Jesus Christ, the high priest who was chosen by God to offer gifts and sacrifices for sins. One verse in particular stood out to me. Verse 8 reads, “Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered; and when he was made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him.” (Heb 5:8) There was that word ‘perfect’ again. What does it mean to say ‘when Jesus was made perfect…’? Doesn’t that imply that there was a time when Jesus was not yet perfect? It sounds almost heretical even to pose the question. And yet, the grammatical structure of the sentence implies a time when he was not perfect. I have always assumed that the word perfect as we use it today means ‘without blemish’ or ‘without sin, fault, error, or lacking of any kind.’ By this definition Jesus was undeniably perfect. What was it the scripture was trying to tell me?

I went back to my room and immediately sat down with the dictionary. I looked up the word perfect and saw that it was defined as “being without fault or defect; exact or precise.” That did not seem to be much help. I knew that the English word comes from the Latin ‘perfectus’ or the participle ‘perficio’ from the verb ‘perficere’, meaning roughly ‘having been made through to completion.’ While this began to make more sense than the English definition I still could not see what was not yet complete in Jesus.

I then took a look at my copy of the New Testament in Greek. I turned to Matthew 5:48 where it says, “So be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect.’ I was surprised to see that the word used in Greek for the word perfect was ‘teleioi’ (τελειοι) which is an adjectival form of the noun ‘telos’(τελος). I knew from my philosophy studies that ‘telos’ refers to our final end or our ultimate destiny. It refers to that for which we were created. So, in this verse, Jesus himself was telling the disciples to be the persons whom God created them to be. My definition of perfect was quickly starting to change.

I then turned to a Greek dictionary to find a definition for telos. It was defined as ‘an end attained, consummation, or closing act.’ At this point I felt like I was pulling on a golden thread that had been woven through the Scriptures and was leading me to my prize. Focusing on the word ‘consummation’ I turned to John’s Gospel where it offers the last words of Jesus on the cross. In Latin, the words used are, “Consummatum est,” which is translated into English as ‘It is finished.” With great anticipation, as I felt I was on to some new discovery, I turned to the Greek where it says, “Ϊησουσ ειπεν, τετελεσται” or “Jesus said, it has been finished.” The word used for perfect is the perfect passive indicative of the Greek verb ‘τελεω’ meaning ‘to finish or complete.’

Jesus, having received his identity from His relationship to the Father through His baptism, brought his mission to completion. Having become perfect in love, he offered himself as a gift and a sacrifice for the sins of others. He had become fully perfect in being the one sent by God to reconcile all of us to him. “And when he was made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him.” (Heb 5:8)

What does all this mean for me? It means that I no longer have to live my life measuring myself to some unobtainable external objective standard of what it means to be perfect. It means that I can be free of the idea that, being a perfect seminarian means perfect attendance, never being late, straight A’s, following every rule to a ‘T’. It means that I do not have to be perfect by someone else’s standards of what it means to be a man, a son, a friend, a Catholic, etc. It means that because I am a beloved Son of the Father who has been baptized into this faith, I must become perfectly me. I must become the man who God calls me to be. The man He knew before He formed me in the womb. This is not a crutch or a means to not deal with my faults or imperfections. That work still needs to be done. On the contrary, it is a challenge to become perfect in love. It is a realization that my identity is not one that I choose for myself; but is instead one that needs to be actively received from God. And from this identity comes the mission to love God and neighbor as He Himself has loved me. My mission is to become perfect in love; and there is no fear in love.

Finally, I will end with this quote from a great spiritual writer: "Perfect joy is the fruit of Christianity when it is lived as Christ taught: joy in the midst of our pain, joy that flowers precisely from pain, from the sacrifice of self, of our own views, of our own will, our ego, to leave space for God, for his plans, for his light-filled and wise design for the world and for each one of us."

Pax tecum,
Tom

I'm leavin on a jet plane...

2010-09-25T09:41:00.001-05:00

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

- Robert Frost (1874-1963)

I doubt that any of us are strangers to this classical poem. We have heard it many times growing up. It has become a classic because virtually every reader can relate to the experience of being at a crossroads in life. The poem meant something for me in middle school when I first read it. It took on more meaning in high school as I struggled to decide what university I would attend. Again, the poem meant something different as I wrestled with the idea of either going to medical school or fulfilling my dream and becoming a police officer. I admit the poem wasn’t exactly on my mind as I struggled with the decisions: to leave the criminal investigation division to go back to patrol, to leave the police department, to begin working for the Church, to leave my comfortable life for seminary, to accept or reject certain offers on my house that remained on the market for fifteen months.

No, I can’t say that I always referred to classical poetry when I made a decision. As I grew older I began to learn methods of discernment and how to bring my major decisions before God in prayer. I learned to wrestle with my decisions until I reached a sense of peace that my course of action was in line with God’s will. As much as I have grown in my discernment abilities, there have been, and still are times, when I simply pick a path and get to walking. As I walk down the strange and unfamiliar path I sometimes second-guess myself. I begin to worry. I realize that this path is overgrown (lack of travelers) and at times the path is full of thorns and thickets that scratch and cut as you walk through them. Sometimes the path less traveled is not to be glorified as the path of an independent thinker who is willing to be counter-cultural and has a great sense of adventure as Frost describes in his poem.

More often than not, when I find myself on an unfamiliar path these days, I am reminded of something that I learned in my philosophy studies. In his work De Caelo (On Heaven) (I,5), Aristotle states, “The least initial deviation from the truth is multiplied later a thousandfold.” Less you panic because I am quoting a pagan philosopher, I offer you St. Thomas Aquinas’ version in De Ente et Essentia (On Being and Essence), as he states “a little error in the beginning leads to a great one in the end.” While these two quotes have all sorts of implications for our need to properly form our moral consciences and seek out Truth in all that we do, I will try to restrict their implications to the discussion at hand. With both of these quotes in mind, how does Frost even begin to take a single step down one of the two paths? What if he is wrong? What then? What if he does not realize the small mistake he made in the beginning that leads him to a great error in the end? What if the decision he is making ruins the rest of his life? What if the decision he makes in not God’s will?

Can you hear the fear in these questions? Can you hear the lack of trust in the providence of God? Let me very reverently say that I not only hear them, but I have felt them. Less you be quick to judge me, I think I can safely say that we all have. It doesn’t make us unfaithful Christians. It makes us human. So, how then do we ever make some of those life changing decisions, big and small, with some sort of confidence? I offer you the following analogy that was partially given to me by my spiritual director this past summer. I have added to it and have made it my own but I simply trimmed back the branches. The planted seed came from him:

Have you ever been sitting on a plane prior to leaving the gate and looked out the window? There are all sorts of people in jump suits that are working frantically at their various tasks in order to prepare the plane for its flight. Some are providing the fuel. Others are loading food and beverages. Still others are loading baggage onto the plane. Amidst all these people who complete their jobs with such ease that you know it has become routine for them, there is one man or woman who walks among them that sticks out like a sore thumb. The man (I am going to use the masculine gender from here on for ease of writing. I do not mean to exclude females from this position) is wearing a starched white shirt and a tie. He carefully walks around the plane somewhat oblivious to those around him. He checks out every piece of the plane to make sure that all is in proper working condition and the plane is ready to fly. He may pull on the wing, wiggle the flaps, or kick the tires. He goes through a checklist that is by no means routine. He makes sure that everything is where it is supposed to be or else the plane never leaves the ground. There is nothing that will cause this man to skip parts of his list and assume that all is okay. He is diligent in his efforts because he knows that “a little error in the beginning leads to a great one in the end.”

By now you have probably assumed that I am talking about the pilot of the plane. While that assumption will work, I am actually talking about the co-pilot. Usually, it is the co-pilot who does the walk around. The point of the analogy is that the co-pilot always makes sure that things are in order before the plane takes off. If he finds a problem, he calls someone else who is more qualified to fix it. If he doesn’t find a problem, he tells the pilot it is time for both of them to fly the plane together. Now, for the sake of the analogy put yourself in the role of the co-pilot. The decision to fly is any one of the minor or major decisions that you are faced with in your everyday life. Let’s fill in the rest of the roles to wrap this up.

We all know what the baggage is that has been loaded onto our plane for us to carry. Sometimes the bags that have been checked are our own and we have put them ourselves. Other times the bags belong to someone else and yet we are still asked to carry them. So far I have not yet mentioned the passengers although they play an important role. We all have passengers in our lives that fly with us. They may be friends, family, parishioners, or complete strangers. The point is, that as the co-pilot, we make our decisions the best we can based upon our assessment of the situation. Our assessment is informed, however, by our education, past experience, and prayer. We realize that we are under the guidance and teaching of the pilot (perhaps God, perhaps our priest), we fly the plane. Notice that I did not say anything about the emotional condition of the passengers. Sure there are some on the plane that are afraid to fly. There are some on the plane who become anxious at the slightest bit of turbulence. There are some who question your ability to spot a problem with the plane’s mechanics. There are some who will complain not matter how smooth the flight is. There are some who fail to pay attention to the many signs that tell them prior to getting on the plane where the flight is headed and yet they get on the plane thinking that they can insist upon it going to some other place. There are those who sit in first class and others that sit in coach. However the safe arrival of all of them is equally our concern. There are even some who may have intentions of bringing the plane down altogether. However, and most importantly, there are those who walk by the cockpit after the plane has landed, smile, and say, “Thanks for the nice flight. I look forward to flying with you again.”

One more thing, the co-pilot doesn’t fly alone. Not only does he fly with someone in the left-hand seat, but he consults his charts (Scripture), air-traffic controllers and ground handlers (Spiritual Directors and wise friends), weather reports (let’s hope he has a better weatherman than we do), but perhaps most importantly, the experience of the pilots and co-pilots who have gone before him on other flights. While sometimes we may choose the path less traveled, it is important to listen to those who have gone down the path before. They make us aware of cross winds, weather systems in our path, wind shear, etc. Some of those people may just be other pilots who are now your passengers. Listen to them. Take their guidance, but in the end, the decision is yours. You must choose to fly the plane. You must trust your walk-around of the situation and fly to the best of your abilities. There comes a time when you close the cockpit door so that you can concentrate on flying the plane. But remember, that door has to open again at some point and you will have to face your passengers. My point is, you can’t let their anxiety keep you from flying the plane or else no one ever moves. You have to choose: fly or don’t fly. As a wise man and a dear loved one used to say, “The choice is yours, choose well.”

As for me:

All my bags are packed. I’m ready to go.
I’m standin’ here outside your door…

So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you’ll wait for me
Hold me like you’ll never let me go….

Sing it with me!

Pax tecum,
Tom

My Kind of Friday

2010-09-10T20:55:00.000-05:00

Oh my how life has changed! First of all I apologize for not posting last week. I am still getting settled into life at St. Mary’s. The hockey analogy still applies but progress is being made. I am slowly becoming more comfortable with the schedule and am developing a routine. However, one of the main goals of seminary formation is to help you become more flexible with your time. With that in mind there have been several last minute schedule changes and unanticipated interruptions. I am slowly learning to take these interruptions in stride. In addition to learning to be flexible, I am learning to find those quiet moments that are few and far between and take good advantage of them. Tonight is one of those times.

As I write this entry I am sitting at my desk in my room on a Friday evening. I began my day at 7am with Mass and Morning Prayer followed by breakfast. I then gathered with the guys on my floor for group formation class. This class is where we spend time with our priest-formation advisor discussing various aspects of priesthood. Primarily we talk about the human formation aspects in terms of time management, developing a healthy prayer life, proper recreation, and how to take care of ourselves in general. The second hour of the class was spent practicing proclaiming the Word of God and singing. Yep, I had to get up on stage in front of my classmates and sing a cappella. Let’s just say it is a humbling experience and I have much work to do in terms of training my voice. If you know of a good voice coach let me know. I really would rather not inflict my voice in its current state on the people of God. We all have enough to deal with already.

After formation we had a rector’s conference. This is where the Rector speaks to the entire community about various issues. He gives us updates about the seminary in general and then gives us a little “pep-talk.” Today, he spoke to us about spending time in prayer before the Blessed Sacrament and developing a strong devotion to the Eucharist.

The afternoon was spent doing what we call “Work Order.” This is a time when all the seminarians break into different groups in order to clean and maintain the campus. For me this meant cleaning a set of toilets and showers on one floor and vacuuming a hallway. I did not mind doing the work because I appreciate a clean bathroom as much as the next guy. Thankfully, it was much better than my experience of emptying Port-a-Potties when I was fifteen!

After work order, I went to the gym in order to work out. Due to changes in the schedule I have not been able to exercise all that much this week. It felt great to work out. I treated myself to Subway for an early dinner. For those of you that don’t know I am probably a bigger Subway fan than their spokesman Jared. I could eat the same sandwich everyday and not get tired. I had a minor setback with the weight-loss this past weekend but am still at minus 35 pounds since January. Keep your prayers coming.

Following dinner, I returned to the seminary and spent an hour with Jesus in one of our small chapels. I really enjoyed my time in prayer before the Blessed Sacrament. It was a great way to bring my day and my week to a close. Spending that time in prayer reminded me of my post a few weeks ago on developing a palate of prayer. So, strictly as part of my spiritual formation, I returned to my room and poured myself a glass of wine. It is my first glass of the year and I am enjoying it quite a bit (don’t worry…one is all I will have). I am listening to Stan Getz (Jazz) and writing to you.

If you would have told me several years ago that this is how I would choose to spend a Friday night I probably would have laughed at you. And yet, I find myself to be relaxed, content, and I dare say happy. I am immensely grateful that God has brought me to this point in my life. While I am excited to see what else He has in store, for tonight, I am going to sit and enjoy what He has already given me. I invite you to do the same.

I am taking tomorrow off. That means no school work, no laundry, and anything else that I would typically consider “productive.” To some of you, that does not seem like much of a break through, but for some of you who know me, you know that it is a big step. I can only take these steps in formation with the grace I receive from your prayers. So, if I have not said it in a while, thank you (as I raise my glass in a toast). Please continue to pray for me and my brother seminarians. Rest assured, you remain in our prayers.

Pax Tecum,
Tom

Learning to Skate on Ice...

2010-08-30T12:02:00.001-05:00

I have received several calls, emails, inquiries, etc. this past week from various friends and family asking me how my first week here at St. Mary’s went. To be honest, I find myself having difficulty finding the words to express exactly what I am feeling throughout the first week. I can tell you that my schedule seems to be a lot busier than it was at Holy Trinity. That is due in part to the fact that I am taking more classes (seventeen hours instead of nine or twelve). I have also been more faithful to keeping a daily holy hour and getting regular exercise. While this tends to cut down on the amount of free time that I have, I find that they are essential to keeping a balance throughout the week. As usual, I will try to use an analogy to describe the situation.

Growing up in the South, I did not play a lot of hockey. It’s just not a sport that is too popular in our part of the country. The only real exposure I have had to hockey has been learning how to play the sport during PE classes in elementary school. We learned to play the game in a gym with a puck or a tennis ball. We learned the rules of the game and eventually got pretty good at it. We thought we knew how to play hockey. At least, we were comfortable with how we learned to play the game.

Then one day someone comes along and invites us to play ice hockey. We think we know how to play hockey so we say ‘yes’ without giving it much thought. After all, we have been playing hockey for some time and we are pretty sure that we know the rules. How big of an adjustment could it actually be to play on ice? For those of you aren’t laughing in anticipation of what is coming next, hurry up and catch up with the rest of us.

It should not be too hard to picture a group of guys who have never ice skated before stepping on the ice for the first time. This is why Freshmen in high school, rookie police officers, and first year Theologians are such an inexhaustible source of humor for those around them. Forget playing hockey, we are just trying to stay upright. There is no concept of working together as a team in order to play the game. Instead, we are all just trying to learn how to stay on our feet and are beginning to think about skating. There is hope though in the sense that we know over time we will become more comfortable on skates and will then be able to play the game in the same way as we did previously. Eventually we will be like the ‘Mighty Ducks’ in the 1992 film with Emilio Estevez. We will learn to fly together in the ‘Flying V’ and will be able to take on whatever competition comes our way. If it helps those of you who are a little bit…ehemm…wiser get the analogy I will point you to the movie Miracle on Ice which tells the story of the 1980 U.S. Olympic Hockey team.

I have figured out that the best way to avoid injury during this time of learning how to skate is to slow down and stand still from time to time. The time I spend in silent adoration or prayer with the person of Jesus Christ is essential to attaining that sense of peace. Ice skating is always easier when you have the hand of a more experienced skater to hold onto. It is during that time of prayer that God gives me His assurances that He is with me and will teach me the Way to skate. He will show me that the discomfort, the lack of surety, the stress, the anxiety, the frustration that I sometimes feel are nothing more than growing pains. Better yet, He will remind me that what I am feeling are the birth pangs of a new creation. Like Jerusalem and the life of the first century Jews after the time of Christ, I am experiencing the death of an old way of life as I rise with Christ as a new creation.

I don’t think that I am too far off in saying that there are others who feel this same way. Perhaps you have recently started a new job. Perhaps you are doing the same job but from a different perspective. Perhaps you are an experienced parent who is now learning how to raise a teenager or young adult. Perhaps you are someone who is working with a new co-worker, staff, or boss. Perhaps you are adjusting to life without one of your loved ones. Perhaps you are looking at some other major transition in your life. Whatever it is in your life that has you moving from a gym floor to ice, know that God is with you and that He will take you by the hand and teach you the Way to skate. However, it means that we must slow down, humble ourselves, take His hand, and let Him lead us.

Please continue to pray for me and my brother seminarians as we discern God’s will for our lives. Please know that I keep all of you in my prayers as well.

Pax tecum,
Tom

Settling into Seminary...again.

2010-08-22T21:10:00.002-05:00

Sorry folks for the delay in posting. My goal for this semester is to post at least once a week (ideally on Saturdays). The goal of the blog when it was created was simply to share a few of my thoughts as I journey closer to the Lord. It has expanded somewhat over the years to also be a means of allowing others to walk with me as I discern God’s will for my life in seminary. I welcome the newcomers who are now walking with us. I appreciate the comments that have been left. I do read them and I make sure to follow up on prayer intentions that are left as well.

It has been eight days since I have moved into my room at St. Mary’s Seminary in Houston, TX. The nineteen new men (including myself) arrived last Saturday. I admit that some of us paused for a second when we saw the size of our rooms. The Lord is definitely inviting me to live a life of greater simplicity. As I settled into my room I have found that it is actually large enough for what I need and is slowly starting to feel like home.

We have spent the week getting to know one another, praying together, registering for classes, buying our books, and attending various meetings. Orientation at seminary is much like the first week on a college campus (minus the debauchery of course!). We had our first public Mass today and it was great to have a few visitors. I want you all to know that you are welcome to join us for Sunday Mass at 9:30 AM almost every week that we are here. If you leave me a comment or shoot me an email a week or two before you plan on coming I will be happy to arrange to meet you and give you a tour of the seminary after Mass. Perhaps you could invite along someone who you think God may be calling to the priesthood. We have plenty of rooms available! (Shameless plug)

Just to give you an idea of the current state of vocations in central Texas, we have approximately eighty-two total seminarians here at St. Mary’s. I believe eleven different dioceses and two or three religious orders are represented. The Diocese of Austin, for which I am studying, has forty-six seminarians total. Twenty-nine of those seminarians are studying here at St. Mary’s. The Theology I class, to which I belong, here at St. Mary’s has twenty-two students, twelve of which are from Austin. So, God willing, in five years, we may have an ordination class of twelve men. Keep praying for us! It is certainly the prayers of those who support us that allow us to hear the call in the first place and to respond with a generous heart.

I must admit that I am looking forward to classes beginning tomorrow. I know that I might be singing a different tune in a few weeks, but for now, I am ready to get back at it. I have finished all of my philosophy studies and will now be studying theology for the next 4-5 years. Currently I am registered for 19 credit hours this semester. The classes I am taking are: Mark and Method, Introduction to Greek I, Introduction to Theological Studies, Pentateuch, Public Rhetoric, Introduction to Liturgy, and Church History I. I will certainly need your prayers this semester.

On a more personal note I want to share a small success story with you. Please admit me a moment to be a little proud. I share it as a means of encouragement for others and also to say thank you to those who have supported me in my efforts. Since January I have been focusing on my physical health and working on losing weight. I have lost a total of thirty-four pounds. I had a great time taking my suit in to have it altered (smaller this time!). My goal is to lose about a pound a week until I lose another 50 pounds or so. It seems like a lot right now but I am taking it slow. It is amazing how much impact prayer can have on your ability to adhere to changes in diet and exercise. I recently received a gym membership as a gift and am looking forward to beginning my exercise routine this week. So, as you can see, life in the seminary and discerning priesthood really is an effort to become holy as well as “whol-e.” It involves a four pronged approach to wellness: body, mind, and spirit. Will you join me in this effort in your own lives?

Again, thank you for all of your prayers and support. I will try to post some pictures of the seminary campus soon. It is absolutely beautiful despite the miserable Houston weather. Until then, let us keep one another in prayer.

Pax Tecum,
Tom

"Developing a Palate for Prayer"

2010-08-08T14:59:00.000-05:00

I had the privilege of spending the last ten weeks at the Institute for Priestly Formation on the campus of Creighton University in Omaha, NE. Over one hundred seventy-five seminarians from seventy different dioceses in the United States gathered together to focus on our spiritual formation as men discerning a priestly vocation. In addition to speaking to us about topics such as priestly identity, celibacy, human sexuality, discernment, etc., much of the program worked with developing our life of prayer.

I cannot adequately express to you how grace-filled the summer was for me and how much of a gift it was to me personally. Despite the many graces that were received, they did not all come easily. During the first week of the program, the faculty began to talk to us about our spiritual senses and “tasting” God in our prayer. I had no idea what they meant by “tasting” God and thought that use of language was completely ridiculous. Despite my silent objections to the use of the word I heard it over and over throughout the first few weeks. At first I was not entirely sure why I had such a strong objection to the word ‘taste.’ I think part of the objection was that I did not understand what they meant and felt a little too embarrassed to ask. It was easier for me to say something like, “that language is not for me,” or “that is not my style of prayer.” I was upset with myself because I wanted to remain open to the material being presented and did not want to close myself off to the graces that God was trying to give me through the presentations simply because I objected to the manner in which a word was being used. I was reminded of a saying that my high school economics teacher enjoyed sharing with us, “we mock what we don’t understand.” The truth was I didn’t understand but I wanted to. I desperately wanted my prayer life to improve. I desperately wanted to know what they meant by ‘tasting’ God. I wanted the intimate prayer life they seemed to have but was a little embarrassed to admit my ignorance. Who of us really wants to admit that we don’t know how to pray as we should? (See Rom 8:26). I took the matter to prayer and over several weeks an image developed in my heart that opened my eyes just a little bit to what is meant by ‘tasting’ God in prayer. I want to share that image with you now.

I made the trip to Omaha with a brother seminarian from the Archdiocese of Galveston-Houston. The first night of the trip we stopped and stayed at a hotel in Wichita, KS. My brother seminarian and I decided to share a bottle of wine with dinner. When the wine arrived I made good use of my Cruise Ship Wine Tasting Class skills to act as though I knew what I was doing in tasting the wine. I went through all the external acts. I examined the cork. I looked at the color of the wine. I swirled the wine around in the glass. I inhaled the bouquet and considered the smell for a moment before taking my first sip. I paused in silence for a few moments as I considered the taste of the wine before I indicated my approval. I am telling on myself but I am a bit of a poser when it comes to wine connoisseurship. All the motions and actions I performed boil down to whether I thought the taste of the wine was pleasurable or not.

After a few sips of wine my friend looked at the label on the bottle and said, “Hmmm. I had no idea that there was mint in this wine.” I took another taste of the wine and immediately I could detect the taste of mint. I have tasted mint before and have been taught to know what mint tastes like. Just by hearing my friend say the word ‘mint’ I could imagine the taste in my mind. Therefore when I went to take another drink of the wine I knew what to look for. Amongst the many ingredients that went into the wine, I could sift through them and identify the mint.

As I reflected on this experience, I realized that the same thing applies to ‘tasting’ God in prayer. You see, wine connoisseurship is not a skill that you can learn by simply reading a book. Your palate for wine can only be developed by someone placing the various ingredients in front of you, telling you what they are, and having you taste them repeatedly. Eventually you acquire the ability to detect these tastes amidst an assortment of ingredients. It takes an experienced connoisseur to pass the skill on to you. Over the course of my life I have had several priests, spiritual directors, and other people of prayer help me learn to sort through the various ‘tastes’ of prayer in order to discern what is of God and what is not. As I continue to grow in my relationship with God, I realize that I am slowly developing a refined palate for my prayer.

However, while it may be fun to blindfold a wine taster and ask him/her to tell you what ingredients are in the wine, there is simply no substitute for reading the list of ingredients printed on the label. The label of prayer is of course Sacred Scripture. It is through Scripture that God reveals Himself to us and makes us aware of His presence in our lives. He tells us what to look for. He tells us where to find Him. He tells us of His desire to love us and to be in communion with us. Through Mass, study of Sacred Scripture, prayer groups, spiritual direction, etc., we begin to define our palate of prayer so that our time with the Lord is a more pleasurable, consoling, and edifying experience.

There is one last part of the meditation that I want to share with you. I like a good dry red wine. I like it bold and full of spice. However, the same cannot be said of my prayer. I know that I am not alone in my experiences of frustration when I think that my prayer is ‘dry’ or I will sometimes say, “Nothing is happening.” I hope that most of us have experienced a consoling moment of prayer where we could not doubt the presence of God. We often wonder why prayer cannot be like that every time we pray. The warm and fuzzy ‘taste’ of prayer is often what we are seeking. Then I realized that there is no less fruit in a dry merlot than there is in a delicate Riesling, a Northern Italian red, or a fine glass of port. In the same way there is much fruit to be ‘tasted’ in those dry moments of prayer. God is no less present or at work in dry moments of prayer as He is in those times of great consolation. However, without a refined palate to sort out the different tastes, we may miss Him.

The key is to keep tasting the wine. Don’t forget the health benefits of a glass a day. Remain steadfast in prayer. Don’t forget to look at the label often. Find someone that you can talk to about your prayer life who can work with you in refining your palate for prayer. Take a retreat once a year and go to confession often as a means of cleansing your palate. If you haven’t already ‘tasted’ God in your prayer, be patient, because once you do, you will never taste something as glorious, wonderful, or beautiful as the fruit He wants to give you. And keep in mind; I am always willing to sit down with you over a glass of wine!

Pax Tecum,
Tom

"Clean your room!"

2010-07-24T13:15:00.003-05:00

These were three of my least favorite words to hear when I was growing up. During the summer I would often hear my mother tell my brother and I, “By the time I get home from work I want your room clean.” When my brother and I shared a room we would spend more time arguing about to whom the mess belonged than if we just worked together to clean up the mess. As I got older and had my own room there was no one else I could blame the mess on. However, just because I knew it was my mess that did not mean that I had sufficient motivation to clean it up as soon as I was asked. Instead I would wait for mom to call and tell us that she was on her way home before I started “cleaning.” As soon as I hung up the phone the flight of the bumblebee began. I frantically shoved clothes (clean or dirty it didn’t matter) into drawers and hid toys in my closet. Of course, there was no fooling mom. She knew my tricks. She wasted no time in opening the closet doors, desk drawers, dresser drawers, etc. to discover my feeble attempts to hide the mess.

In college, neither my roommate nor I was overly concerned about keeping the room clean. When you ran out of clothes you simply turned over the pile and started from the bottom (ok I am exaggerating a little but not by much). The point is we were free. There was no one there to tell us to clean up our mess. Of course, living in a college dorm you always know when someone’s parents are coming to visit. You begin to hear these strange sounds coming from their room. One of the noises is a loud machine-like whirring that lasts for about ten to fifteen minutes. The other is a periodic hissing noise that sounds like air escaping from a bicycle tire. There is a strange smell of lemon or pine replacing the odors we had been accustomed to. Of course, over time you learn that the sounds are caused by a vacuum cleaner and a can of Pledge spray. Whenever you heard, saw, or smelled these things there was only one conclusion to draw, the parents are coming.

After college, as I lived with roommates in an apartment or a house, I developed a different level of cleanliness. I always insisted on keeping the public areas of the house clean. I would make sure the dishes were done and would even sweep, mop, vacuum, and dust regularly. I didn’t want anyone to think that I lived like a pig. My room, however, was another story. My room was never dirty but it was almost always messy and disorganized. I knew where everything was but there was no way someone else could safely navigate the hazardous piles of stuff left in my room. Not much changed when I bought my own home. The public areas were kept clean and I took fairly good care of the lawn. However, the door to my room remained closed. After all, I was single and celibate. What did it matter what my room looked like? That was no one else’s business but my own.

As I left for seminary, I would like to tell you that all of my bad habits were purified. However, you could always tell how my semester was going by the condition of my room. By the end of the semester the mess in my room would accumulate. Papers, books, clothes, etc. would begin to pile up as I no longer thought I had time to clean my room. I would rather live in the mess than find the time to clean it. The funny thing is that no matter how messy my room would get, I always made my bed in the morning. I don’t know what to make of that. Whenever I would leave for an extended break I would spend a great deal of time cleaning and organizing my room. I remember growing up that whenever we would go on vacation my mom would spend quite a few hours cleaning every inch of the house before we left. She always said that she cleaned it for two reasons. The first was that if something happened to us on vacation she did not want anyone to think that we kept a dirty house (sorry mom for letting the secret out). The second reason was that it made her feel good to come home to a clean house. It was this second reason that kept me cleaning my room before I left the seminary for more than a few days.

I want to share just a few more thoughts about cleaning before I get to the point. Drawing from my own experience with hiding my mess, I learned as a police officer how much people will reveal to you if you simply watch them. Often times the person will stand in between you and whatever the person does not want you to find. They will often point subconsciously to the ‘mess’ with their eyes and their body language. I now understood how my mother always knew where to find my ‘mess.’ I also realized over time that I knew I was comfortable with another person when I didn’t even bother trying to straighten up before inviting them to my house. I didn’t have to put on a show. They could call and say they were five minutes from the house and I didn’t immediately go into flight of the bumblebee mode. I was comfortable with them seeing my ‘mess.’

Take a minute and re-read this reflection but replace the word ‘room’ with ‘soul’ and you will understand my point. There are many ‘messes’ in our life. Some of them we try to clean regularly. Some of them we simply try to hide under the bed or in a drawer. We compartmentalize them from the rest of our life. After all they are no one else’s business but our own. They don’t hurt anyone but me, right? Sometimes we spend a great deal of time and effort cleaning up a 'mess' only to have it reappear. We get so tired of cleaning the same 'mess' over and over that we are tempted to give up and resign ourselves to living in the 'mess.' With great reverence and charity I dare to say that for some of us, it has been so long since we have properly cleaned our ‘rooms’ (i.e. Act of Contrition, Sacrament of Reconciliation, etc.) that we have forgotten what the vacuum and the dusting spray sound like. Some of us choose to go into the frantic mode of straightening up when we find out that the Father is on His way to see us or better yet, we are on our way to see Him. Some of us pride ourselves on the fact that at least our house is not as messy as our neighbors. We spend a lot of time pointing out the mess in other people’s lives. (See Luke Ch.6)

The thing is, when we go to see the Father, whether at Mass, adoration, a retreat, work, the kids’ soccer practice, or a friend’s home for dinner, we bring our mess with us. There is no point in hiding it from Him who sees everything. I am reminded of the psalmist’s words, “O Lord, you have probed me and you know me; you know when I sit and when I stand; you understand my thoughts from afar. My journeys and my rest you scrutinize, with all my ways you are familiar. Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know the whole of it. Behind me and before, you hem me in and rest your hand upon me…Where can I go from your spirit? From your presence where can I flee? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I sink to the nether world, you are present there…” (Psalm 139).

This summer I have spent a great deal of time cleaning my ‘room’. I am opening the dresser drawers, looking under the bed, and finding all of those messes that I have tried to hide to give the appearance of cleanliness. Most of these ‘messes’ are nothing more than dust on a shelf and yet the Lord is asking me to give them to Him. I have searched my heart and allowed God to probe my inmost being to find those things that need to be brought to Him so that I can be healed. To be honest, I don’t like cleaning my ‘room’ now anymore than I did as a child. The point I want to share with you is that not every ‘mess’ needs to be cleaned before we welcome Jesus into our ‘rooms’. As a matter of fact, Jesus is waiting for us to invite Him into the ‘messes’ of our life. After all, Jesus is a gentleman who awaits our invitation. He will not force His way into our ‘room’. He will not take back the freedom He has purchased for us with His own body and blood. As I learn to be comfortable with Jesus amidst my ‘mess,’ I am coming to realize, like the lesson I learned from working together with my brother to clean our room, the job is easier when I allow Jesus to help me clean.

Whatever the ‘mess’ might be in your life (i.e. marital problems, cancer, loss of a loved one, a habitual sin, loss of a job, change in a relationship, feelings of being unlovable, feelings of low self-worth, pride, etc.) invite Jesus to be with you in the ‘mess.’ Then together, along with the Blessed Mother and the saints, allow Jesus to help you in cleaning your ‘room.’ After all, there will come a time when you will have to return home from this journey (we all know it’s not always a vacation!) in a foreign land. What a joy it is to come home to a clean house!

Please continue to pray for me as all of you remain in my daily prayers.

Pax Tecum,
Tom

Gifts Wrapped in Many Layers

2010-07-12T13:47:00.001-05:00

I remember growing up that I loved to receive gifts. I loved to rip open the wrapping paper and find out what was inside. Many times I struggled to contain my excitement and wonder at what sort of amazing toy was hidden underneath the different styles of wrapping paper. Birthdays were always the best because the presents appeared that day and I got to open them almost immediately.

Christmas, on the other hand, was pure torture. My mom and dad would set the wrapped presents (except the ones that Santa brought of course) underneath the tree as they wrapped them in the days leading up to Christmas. We kids would often stealthily make our way to the presents when no one was looking in order to carefully inspect them. We would shake, squeeze, feel, and weigh the package to see if we could match it up to an item that we had placed on our list. My mom used to get upset on Christmas morning when she would hand us a package and we would immediately say, “I know what this one is!” She often accused us of ruining Christmas with our guessing games. I never realized it back then that my mother’s real joy in giving us the gift was to watch the look on our face as we unwrapped the present. Her gift was watching the smile on our faces and seeing her children full of happiness.

My mom then got creative in the way she packaged our presents. One year my mom gave one of the kids a small Fisher Price toy crane. I can’t remember whose gift it was originally but mom saved the box and then used it to package other gifts in the years to come. Every year after that one of us would open the gift and be confused for a minute thinking we received a toy crane. Everyone else who was in on the secret would laugh as the real gift was hidden inside the box. Eventually we all knew the secret and took turns using the box to hide our gifts over the years. I am not sure whatever happened to that box but the memory has stuck with me. Nowadays, I rarely spend time wrapping gifts and sometimes just hand them over to people. However, I still love to receive a wrapped present as part of the gift is finding out what is hidden underneath the paper.

This weekend I received an assortment of gifts all of which were wrapped in many layers. I want to share with you the experience of unwrapping these gifts and the joy that I felt once I recognized the gifts that I had received. My hope is that you will be able to un-wrap a few experiences in your life and find the gift that awaits your discovery.

Friday afternoon I arrived at the airport in Omaha, NE, full of anticipation as I was heading home to College Station for my pastor’s 25th Anniversary of Ordination to the Priesthood. As the plane began its descent into the Dallas/Ft. Worth the captain announced that due to bad weather at the airport we would divert to Tulsa, OK. We landed in Tulsa safely and waited patiently for our turn to fuel up the plane. After an hour of waiting on the tarmac we pulled into the gate. The plane was refueled and then we learned that weather had once again closed the airport. When we finally got clearance to depart for DFW a mechanical problem was discovered. We sat on the plane for another two hours before they decided to change planes. By this time I had missed my connection to Austin and was trying to figure out what I would do. I called some friends in Dallas and left a message for them to call me as I thought I might be stranded in Dallas for the night. We arrived in Dallas at 11PM. By the grace of God my friend was near the airport and came to pick me up (the first gift!). As my friend and I arrived at his apartment his fiancée had already prepared a place for me to sleep in the living room. Despite the delays and the unplanned stop in Dallas my mood was pretty upbeat. I was happy to visit with my friend and his fiancée and share with them the many graces I have received this summer. After four short hours of sleep I was headed back to the airport to catch the first flight to College Station.

I arrived in College Station at 10:15 AM. I was enthusiastically greeted at the airport by a dear friend who then drove me immediately to St. Thomas Aquinas Church. I arrived at the church twenty minutes before Mass began. I was worried about being on time as I had been asked to be a lector. As I sat down to pray before the Mass began I was already exhausted. I asked God to help me proclaim His word in a worthy manner and to sustain me throughout the day. As I sat down in the pew after the reading I thought of how much I enjoyed being a lector and how much I have missed it since I have been in seminary (another unexpected gift!). The Mass was absolutely beautiful and a fitting celebration of one man’s twenty-five year commitment to bringing Christ to others as well as the eternal priesthood of Jesus Christ.

I spent the next two hours at the reception visiting with many friends and parishioners. It seemed that every time I finished talking to someone another appeared in their place. While I enjoyed the conversations I will admit to you that I was tired, hungry, and thirsty. My feet hurt and my back was killing me from being on the plane the night before. Despite these feelings I was thrilled to visit with these friends (another gift!). My only regret is that I did not get to spend more time with them.

After the reception I made my way over to my best friend’s house to meet his newborn son. I was in Omaha when he was born and he was now a month old. My friend was at work but I was able to visit his wife and son. I brought a gift (a stuffed animal) for my friend’s daughter but she was taking a nap and neither I nor her mother wanted to wake her. I was disappointed that I would not get to see her on this trip. I cannot explain to you how much it warmed my heart to sit and hold my friend’s newborn son. It was truly a gift! After about thirty minutes, I realized that I had not eaten since 6AM and needed to go get some lunch.

After lunch I spent some time in the adoration chapel at my parish. I was exhausted as I collapsed in the pew. I fell into deep meditation (i.e. sleep) before the Blessed Sacrament. I hope I was not snoring and bothering those who had gathered to pray. When I opened my eyes twenty minutes later I received another gift but I am going to save that one for later as this post is already too long. After my holy hour I went back to the Church to attend the vigil Mass as I would be traveling all day Sunday and unable to get to Mass. I was happy to hear that our new parochial vicar was celebrating his first weekend Mass at the parish (another gift!). After Mass I attended a dinner party with my pastor and several friends and parishioners.

I finally left the party at 10PM and then met my best friend at his work. There have been many changes in both of our lives that have prevented us from spending much time with one another. I only got to visit with him for about thirty minutes but I appreciated every one of them. I told him I would see him in a month and then headed for home. When I arrived home I was greeted by who I consider to be my little brother. We talked for about fifteen minutes. The time was short but much was said. I finally collapsed in bed at midnight. It had been a full day but one that was full of love and gift.

The alarm clock went off entirely too soon on Sunday morning. I got up, showered, packed, printed my boarding passes and had a nice breakfast with the family. Due to the change in my travel plans I did not have a way to get to the airport in Austin for my 12:50 PM flight. Rose, the mom, offered to drive me to the airport. This was an unexpected gift as it gave us almost two hours to visit and discuss many things. Had things gone according to the original plan we would not have had this time to visit.

After arriving at the airport in Austin I went through security and tried to get on an earlier flight to Dallas. Not only was there no room on the earlier flight but I learned that my original flight had been canceled due to a mechanical problem. I called the airline and was rebooked on a flight to Chicago later that day. Now I knew who God wanted me to see when I was stuck in Dallas but I couldn’t think of anyone in Chicago that God would want me to visit. I spent the next six hours in the Austin airport. I exchanged many texts and phone calls with people as I informed them of the new plans. I treated myself to some Salt Lick BBQ and Amy’s ice cream for lunch (things only a true Austinite can appreciate). My best friend then sent me a text of a picture of his daughter who slept with the stuffed animal I had given her. It made my day and made the stay in the airport a little easier. When I finally arrived in Chicago I learned that my connecting flight to Omaha would be delayed due to another mechanical problem. We switched aircraft and moved to a different gate. At this point the skies opened up and the airport was shut down for a few hours due to weather. I couldn’t help but laugh. If there was a gift in this experience God used the entire roll of wrapping paper and several toy crane boxes to hide it. I tried to remain as positive as possible as we finally boarded our flight and headed home.

I arrived in Omaha at 11:40PM. I was beat. I was exhausted. I was a tad bit impatient. I collapsed in my bed knowing that I had an early wake up call. As I sat before Mass this morning I thought to myself of all the gifts that I received this weekend. I could have easily spent all this time complaining about the many difficulties but I share them with you only in the hopes that you will see what God showed me. In the midst of all these unplanned changes, struggles, inconveniences, etc. God blessed with many amazing gifts. He allowed me to love and be loved. He allowed me to be with some of the people I love the most. I was happy as I felt that I had lived the weekend well. There were many crosses but you cannot have the resurrection without the cross. Two phrases come to my mind. One of them is from Sacred Scripture “Without cost you have received, without cost you are to give” (Mt 10:8) and from a less sacred source, “I could have missed the pain, but then I’d have to miss the dance.” After communion, the greatest gift of all, I thought how God must have been watching me, his child, open the many gifts that He had so carefully wrapped for me this weekend. He patiently waited for my response as at first I did not recognize the gifts. Finally, this morning as I truly discovered the gifts, my heart was full of joy and God, like my mother, no doubt enjoyed seeing the look on my face.

The point I want to share is that each day we are presented with our crosses. I now see in a new way how joy can come from embracing those crosses and striving to carry them well. I don’t mean to make myself sound like some overly pious guy who always gets it right. I just finally got through the last layer of paper and want to share the gifts with you.

Pax Tecum,
Tom

Coming to a Parish Newsletter Near You...

2010-05-21T11:29:00.002-05:00

Sorry for not posting in a while folks. The last semester of seminary at HTS was a difficult one that kept me on my toes most of the time. After several requests I have decided to recommit myself to updating this blog on a more frequent basis. There are several experiences from the past year that I hope to share with you this summer. I will spend my summer at the Institute for Priestly Formation in Omaha, NE. It is a ten week course in prayer and spirituality. I look forward to the laid back environment and the freedom to spend a significant amount of time in prayer with our Lord.

For now, I will leave you with this article that I wrote for our parish newsletter. It may or may not be published soon.

Pax Tecum,
Tom

“Come. Follow Me.”

These are the first words Jesus spoke to his disciples. The words are an invitation to each disciple to leave behind his old way of life and accompany Jesus on His mission. It is an invitation that is extended to each of us everyday in various ways.

In April of 2006, I heard these words as Jesus’ invitation to consider becoming a Catholic Priest. I wish that I could say that I responded as quickly or as generously as did the disciples. My response came in the form of two years of prayer, reading, spiritual direction, and retreats whereby I tried to discern if Jesus was in fact inviting me to follow him as a priest. Eventually, in August of 2008, I began my studies as a seminarian at Holy Trinity Seminary (HTS) in Irving, TX.

The seminary is a place where young men live, pray, study, and work together to discern what God is asking them to do with their lives. The daily schedule varies from seminary to seminary. A typical day for us at HTS is to gather for Morning Prayer and Mass at 6:30 AM followed by breakfast. The rest of our day is spent attending classes, attending various meetings, studying, and recreating. At 5:15 PM we gather in the chapel for Evening Prayer followed by a time of mediation. The evening concludes with dinner as a community. Once a week we are asked to go out to various ministry assignments including: teaching RCIA, hospital chaplaincy, nursing home visits, and working at the local Catholic Radio Station. The weekends are mostly free for study and relaxation.

During the first few years of seminary, the goal of formation is to focus on our universal call to holiness. The program is designed to form each seminarian in four areas: Spirituality, Pastoral Skills, Human Formation, and Intellectual formation. The program is not focused primarily on teaching seminarians how to do the things a priest does but is instead focused on teaching us to become priestly people. The program helps us realize that we are called not only to be holy but to be whole as well.

To be honest, this is perhaps the most difficult and yet most grace-filled part of seminary. Each seminarian is afforded the unique opportunity to spend time in prayer encountering himself and identifying the areas in his life in which God is asking him to grow. It is in these areas where I find myself drawn closest to God. It is also a time to identify our strengths and to give thanks to God for the gifts He has given us. Admittedly, it is a difficult process but one that bears much fruit.

I have taken great comfort in re-reading the journey of the disciples as they follow Jesus. There are times when they got it right and other times where they denied our Lord. Each time I reflect on their lives, I find myself encouraged by the end of John’s Gospel as Peter stands on the shore with Jesus. Despite his previous successes and failings, Peter is able to confidently tell the Risen Lord, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” To which, Jesus ends the conversation with the words by which the whole journey began, “Follow me.” (Jn 21:17b,19b).

As I continue in my journey to respond to the Lord’s invitation to follow Him, I know not where it will lead. I pray that in five years I will be ordained a Catholic Priest. As I transition from HTS to St. Mary’s Seminary in Houston, TX this fall, I ask for your continued prayers and support for me, for my brother seminarian Greg Gerhart, and all seminarians. I also encourage all of us, especially the young men and women, to listen attentively to God’s invitation to follow Him according to His will for your life. For as the psalmist says, “To do your will, O Lord, is my delight.”

"I'm not done yet..."

2009-10-28T22:24:00.001-05:00

I can remember a time when I was watching a small child draw a picture. Each time I thought the child was done with the picture I would make a comment about it or compliment him on it only to hear him say, “I’m not done yet!” Truth be told, I was getting impatient because I had no idea what the end result was supposed to look like and to be honest, the improvements that were being made certainly didn’t seem to add anything to the picture’s intelligibility or aesthetic quality. Once the project was finally declared to be done, I looked at it, smiled and said, “wow, that’s really good….what is it?” The young boy was disappointed that I could not tell what it was and then explained the picture to me. The picture was then posted on the inside of my locker at work.

When I moved from a locker to a desk, a different type of art decked my walls. I took up digital photography as a hobby and loved to take pictures of landscapes, cityscapes, etc. just about anything that did not have a person in it was fair game. The pictures that I thought were the best were printed out in 8” x 10” format and put into a simple black frame. The picture was then hung on the wall both for others and me to admire. To me, displaying the pictures was not just showing off my artistic eye (part of it was) but instead it was a statement of what I thought was beautiful. I loved to capture the many colors and details of nature because it is God’s creation and nothing can really top it. Each picture captures the moment precisely and freezes it so that it can be admired. It fits nicely into a frame and easy to consider it complete or perfect (having been done or made to fulfillment).

It is interesting then to consider what each of us considers beautiful. There are those of us like me who like to look at the finished product and capture it in a frame. Others are willing to patiently wait until the young artist is done with his drawing and then exudes great excitement and joy at the marvelous creation. On the one hand, we appreciate the final product and on the other, we appreciate not only the process by which the drawing is made but also our love for the artist. It is this love for the artist that allows a parent to proudly display some of the most hideous looking markings to ever hit paper on the walls of their office or refrigerator.

By now, you probably know where I am going with this inadequate metaphor. Just in case you don’t, let me share with you a few verses from Paul’s letter to the Ephesians:

And he gave some as apostles, others as prophets, others as evangelists, others as pastors and teachers, to equip the holy ones for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of faith and knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the extent of the full stature of Christ, so that we may no longer be infants, tossed by waves and swept along by every wind of teaching arising from human trickery, from their cunning in the interests of deceitful scheming. Rather, living the truth in love, we should grow in every way into him who is the head, Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, with the proper function of each part, brings about the body’s growth and builds itself up in love. (Eph 4:11-16)

I share this verse because it talks about the formation that each of us must go through in order to be further conformed to the image of Christ. We were together in building up this image. In order for the body to mature, each part of the body must also grown and mature. We do not grow without direction, but we grow “in him who is the head, Christ.”

The growing process is not easy (not unique to seminary). Many of us find an excuse not to do it. We want the growing process to be over as soon as possible because we want to display the framed image of the final (and thus perfected) product. We fail to see how each new addition, subtraction, modification adds to the completion of the final image. We become impatient. We want to see the final image and to know what it looks like. We want to know how close the artist is to being done. We resist any further growth because we want to be the fulfillment of that image that he is asking us to be and we want to be it now. Well, at least I do. Instead I think we need to patiently here the Lord when he tells us, “I’m not done yet. Wait until you see what I intend the image to look like. Just trust me. Be the clay in my hands as I mold you into who I want you to be.” And when the picture is done (whenever that may be) or even as it is a work in progress, we can rest assured that God looks on the image of who we are with the loving eyes of a proud Father as it declares it to be “good. It is very good.”

Forgive the rambling. It’s not meant to be that deep of a reflection. The message is really quite simple. Let us be patient with the Lord as he forms us and those around us so that we may be a strong unified body.

Be assured of my prayers.

Pax Tecum,
Tom

Oppportunity Knocks...

2009-10-20T10:21:00.000-05:00

As the Infirmarian (I just noticed that this word is one space away from being Infirm Arian, hah!) for the seminary, I often have people call or stop by my room when they are not feeling well. Normally the symptoms are not that significant and I can get them some antacids, cough drops, or other over the counter medication. I have some supplies for minor first aid and things of that sort.

However, sometimes my brother seminarians will have illnesses that require more attention. Since we live in community, we must be careful when one of us is sick not to spread the virus around the house. Just last week we had two guys down with the flu (medically confirmed cases) and one with another illness that kept him in his room. When this happens, as the Infirmarian, I am responsible for taking the guys their meals, arranging for priests to bring the Eucharist, contacting the seminarian’s teachers, and basically doing anything else I can do to keep them in the room.

Last week I realized some of the psychological effects of locking a guy up in his room for a week. We moved them into the suites that we normally allow our guests to stay in so that they would have a private bathroom, a television, and an overall more comfortable environment. Despite these comforts the guys got quite restless and somewhat agitated. I realized that each time that I came to their room I was not bringing anything that would make their illness go away. I did not have a magic wand that would clear up their symptoms. However, I realized that my presence alone was somewhat comforting. For a week, I was pretty much one of two faces that they would see (the other being a member of the faculty). Often times the only thing that I could bring to them was a meal (usually lukewarm and not what they were looking for), a message from a teacher about a test or assignment (definitely not what they were looking for), bad news in that they were going to be quarantined for yet another day, and a smile. I made a point of trying to smile and bring a sense of humor to the situation. Laughter is the best medicine and, for a second, it takes our minds off the current situation.

I must admit that as the week progressed, it was more and more difficult for me to bring that smile. My efforts at times felt underappreciated. At times I thought that people were taking advantage of me. I was irritated. I was busy. I was in the midst (and still am) of my midterms and had my own obligations on top of caring for others. I was not getting enough sleep. I was constantly bombarded with questions from other seminarians about the condition of those who were sick. My phone did not stop ringing and people were constantly making requests for my time. By Friday, I was glad that all of the people who were sick had gotten better and were either at home or back among the community. We had a free three day weekend so a lot of people went home. I took the time to get caught up on my studies as I had fallen behind from all of the extra activity during the week. The end result is that Sunday night I was exhausted and felt like I needed a break.

I went to bed Sunday night around 9:45pm which is about when I normally went to bed. I heard someone knock on my door at 10pm. I had just fallen asleep and was really tired. I made the decision not to open the door. Whatever the person wanted, it could wait. If it was a real emergency they would knock again or call me on the phone. I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty the next day knowing that I chose sleep over answering the door. Monday night I did something that I have only done one other time while in seminary. I put a sign on my door that said “Do Not Disturb.” I went to bed at 9pm and tried to get a good night’s sleep. When I woke up in the morning at 5:15am I went down the hall to take a shower. Upon returning to my room, I took the sign off of the door. A few minutes after taking the sign off the door, I heard a knock on my door. I remember thinking to myself, “Really? I haven’t even had a chance to get dressed yet.” I put on my robe and answered the door. It was an unexpected request this morning but not something that took any sort of effort. Instead of spending my normal twenty minutes checking the news on the internet, I helped this person and then went to the chapel.

It is days like these that God always manages to speak to me loud and clear in Scripture during Morning Prayer and Mass. In today’s gospel we heard Jesus say to his disciples, “Gird your loins and light your lamps and be like servants who wait their master’s return from a wedding, ready to open immediately when he comes. Blessed are those servants whom the master finds vigilant on his arrival. Amen, I say to you, he will gird himself, have them recline at tables and proceed to wait on them. And should he come in the second or third watch and find them prepared in this way, blessed are those servants.” (Lk 12:35-38).

I am not praising myself for the times that I answered the door to whoever was knocking. I am not praising myself for the many good things that I did for my brothers last week while they were sick. I am not praising myself at all. Instead, I find myself this morning wondering what opportunities I have missed out on to love Jesus by not getting out of bed (both literally and metaphorically) to answer the knock at the door. How many opportunities to love Him did I miss by putting a “Do Not Disturb” sign on my door? How many times have I missed those he sent to me because they did not come on my time table or when I decided it was convenient?

I imagine that as a priest (God-willing) there will be many times where people ask me for my help even when I think that I do not have what they need to be healed. Sometimes people just need someone to care for them. Sometimes people just need someone to listen or to smile at them. Sometimes people just want to know that they are not alone. They do not always knock at your door at the most convenient times, but will you answer the door? I will leave you with one last thing to consider.

“”Let us not grow tired of doing good, for in due time we shall reap our harvest, if we do not give up.” Gal 6:9

Pax Tecum,
Tom

Why am I doing this?

2009-09-29T10:51:00.002-05:00

There have been plenty of times in my brief time in seminary that I have asked myself this question. Sometimes it is difficult to see how my activity is directed towards any sort of end or goal (this is of course not a problem if you deny we are a teleological people). The most recent example of this came this past weekend as I spent three hours in the rectory of my home parish studying Ancient Greek Philosophy in preparation for writing a five page paper (which is extremely short in length). Admittedly I am not the most efficient studier and tend to do much more work than necessary. This often leads me to get frustrated and ask myself again, “why am I doing this [studying, seminary, etc].”

I ask myself this question most often when I am tired, stressed, worried, frustrated, struggling, or suffering in some way. For some reason, my struggling, suffering, etc., does not seem to be necessary in achieving my goal. As a means to avoid putting myself in a situation where the question may loom over me like a dark cloud, I try to get to bed earlier, take more time to relax, go for a walk, and perhaps the most effective of all, I spend time in front of the tabernacle talking to God about it all.

God’s answers are rarely given on my time table or in the manner in which I look for them, but when they do come, they are quite clear. Recently God has reminded me several times why I am in seminary and doing all the things that goes along with it. Last week I had the opportunity to work with a good friend who is a Director of Youth Ministry here in Irving. We put on a skit for the teens that we had previously done in College Station. The skit was well received and I was able to talk with the teens about the gift of Faith and our act of Faith as a response to that gift. The talk went well and I could tell that the words were not my own but were also born of the many past experiences when I was probably asking myself, “why am I doing this?” It was a great night and very consoling to feel that God may have used me to bring about some good in someone else’s life.

God also answers my questions every time I am able to come home and spend time in my parish community. I love being in any parish, but especially my parish in College Station. I love that people are willing to share their joys, struggles, questions, doubts, convictions, hopes, and dreams with me. I love that people are willing to share their lives with me in that way. I love being able to walk around and visit with the many different families and ask how things are going. I love being able to serve Mass with those same people and to see the expression of God’s love both on the altar and in the pews. I love being able to spend time with my best friend and watch him play with his little girl. I love the many ways in which God gives us the gift of his love.

Now please don’t think that I have turned into some overly optimistic warm and fuzzy do-gooder (said with a smile). We all know that while the birds may be singing outside my room this morning, if they stay too long I will show them where the St. Francis bird bath is far away from my room and out of earshot. I simply want to share with you all that for every time that I have asked myself the question that I have chosen for the title of this post, God uses all of you and the people around me to give an answer. For that, whether your response is intended or not, I say thank you.

Pax Tecum,
Tom

P.S. Just as a side note, you know you are old when the challenge becomes not how late can you stay up but how early can you go to bed. Last night, I won!

Litany of Pleasant Surprises

2009-09-01T19:23:00.000-05:00

As I write this blog entry, I am sitting in my room at Holy Trinity Seminary in Irving, TX preparing to start my second year of seminary. I have been here at the seminary for about five days getting settled, attending meetings, and completing incessant amounts of paperwork. Classes start in the morning so tonight will undoubtedly be an early night.

However, before I turn in I thought that I might post a few thoughts that I have had over the past few weeks. After my time in College Station in early August, I traveled to Temple, TX to visit Fr. Ramiro Tarazona at his parish. Fr. Ramiro and I became friends while he was working at my home parish in College Station for two years. He is only ten days older than me and we like to tease each other like brothers even though I call him, “Father.”

After visiting with Fr. Ramiro, I made the short trip across town to Cedarbrake Retreat Center for the annual Seminarian Convocation. This year certainly had a different feel to it than last year. As we were welcoming our new Vocations Director, we were saying goodbye to our beloved Bishop Aymond. We were fortunate to have Archbishop Aymond with us for the entire three days and got to celebrate his last Mass as Bishop of Austin with him. It was difficult for me personally to say goodbye to him as he has had a profound impact on my life, not only as a Bishop, but as a spiritual father and I dare say, a friend.

Once the convocation was over I headed to Hutto where I stayed the night with family before leaving for Corpus Christi the next day. I spent several days with a priest-friend in Banquete, TX, where I was able to read, sleep, and pray in peace. It was a spiritually rewarding time and may become an annual tradition. I then returned back to College Station where I spent nine days with friends and family before heading back to seminary.

I must admit that my head was spinning the first few days that I was back at seminary. It seemed as though I had not left and that summer flew by. I immediately encountered some of the challenges that come with community life, but I also discovered a litany of pleasant surprises. I will list some of them for you here:

- 46 Seminarians from 9 dioceses (welcome Beaumont and Corpus Christi)
- Completely remodeled Refectory (dining hall)
- Remodeled entryway near the Chapel
- Remodeled Student Lounge
- New Faculty members
- New Kitchen Staff (the food is superb right now!)
- Two of the freshmen are talented Jazz musicians. Three of us were sitting in the upstairs TV lounge when we heard them playing and went in search of the source. We were pleasantly surprised to find them jamming out in the music room.
- One of the Pre-Theologians is a talented organist. Again, I was drawn by the music I heard coming from the Chapel and walked in to find Kris from the Diocese of Victoria playing the organ. Many people will remember him from playing the organ at St. Mary’s and St. Thomas Aquinas. He sits next to me in chapel and it is nice to have a familiar face around. Of course, it would be nicer to see some more faces from St. Thomas Aquinas (hint…hint).
- As of right now, I have Tuesdays and Thursdays off from classes although I will have the occasional appointment on those days. It should give me plenty of time to exercise, pray, study, etc.

There are other pleasant changes but I will save them for another time. I am about to go do one of my new favorite daily rituals and that is to take a walk after dinner. I try to invite a different seminarian each time and it gives me a chance to talk with them. I will then return to my room and try to be in bed by 9:30PM or 10:00PM. The alarm goes off at 5:15AM for a full day of class. This year I am taking: Systematic Theology I, Ancient Philosophy, Early Modern Philosophy, and Philosophy of God. I am also taking a Philosophy of Catholic Ethics class correspondence that will require me to travel to Austin 7 or 8 times throughout the year.

I hope that all of you are in good health and good spirits. Feel free to leave comments, questions you would like answered, prayer requests, etc. All of you remain in my prayers daily.

Pax Tecum,
Tom

On the Road Again...

2009-08-10T12:33:00.005-05:00

There are plenty of spiritual reflections and meditations that I could make about the Mass readings and different experiences over the course of the next week, but I think I will save those for another time. As I write this I am sitting at the kitchen table of my family in College Station waiting for several things before I can head out on the next leg of this journey. The laundry is almost done and hopefully the car will be fixed by the end of business today (more on that later). It is nice though to take a few moments and remember the events of this past week. Please indulge me as I would like to share them with you.

I left Our Lady of Guadalupe in Austin last Monday, August 3rd. I had lunch with the staff in the rectory and it was difficult to say goodbye to them. I was only at the parish for ten weeks but I developed some really strong bonds with both the staff and the people of the community. My Spanish is almost tolerable and I learned a lot. I look forward to becoming fluent prior to ordination so that I can better serve the local church.

I was happy to arrive in College Station but was physically and mentally exhausted. I went to bed by nine and slept through the night (a rarity for me these days). On Tuesday, I went to Mass at my home parish, breakfast with the Pastor, lunch with the Associate Pastor and just relaxed for the day. It was certainly nice to be back in College Station around friends and family.

Wednesday was a pretty big day for me. My home parish was hosting a Mass of Thanksgiving and Farewell for Archbishop Gregory Aymond who will soon be installed as the 14th Archbishop of New Orleans. Two of my brother seminarians from Austin came into town to serve at the Mass and hang out with me. Even though it had only been a few days since I had last seen them I was overjoyed to welcome them to my “home.” The day was busy with rehearsals and last minute preparations. I was pretty stressed out leading up to the Mass but once the Mass began the stress melted away. I did not want the Mass to end. It was such a beautiful experience.

After the Mass we joined the Archbishop in the Parish Activity Center for the reception. I enjoyed catching up with many of my friends and parishioners that I had not seen for several months. I was happy to introduce my seminarian brothers to my parish family. I was happy to watch hundreds of people line up to greet, to thank, and to say farewell to Archbishop Aymond. We were able to take a few pictures with him and that was great. Afterwards, a few priests and seminarians were able to spend some quiet time talking casually with the Archbishop. For many of us, Archbishop Aymond is a friend, a brother, a father, and an amazing example of what it means to be a priest of the Church. I have included a few of the pictures here.

I teased a few people that the Mass for Archbishop Aymond was actually the vigil Mass for my birthday which was on Thursday. I was happy to spend the day with my brother seminarians as well as my friends and family here in College Station. It means a lot to me that people would take the time to come spend some time (even if just for dinner) to help me celebrate the day.

Over the next few days I got to have lunch and dinner with various friends. It was nice to catch up, hear about their lives, and share a portion of my life with them. I look forward to visiting with everyone when I come home but always feel guilty that I do not get to see everyone. I spent the rest of the weekend in the parish. I served at all the Masses and got to have some great conversations with parishioners. I am always overwhelmed by parishioners’ generosity and support of me in my discernment. I relished the opportunity to have some quiet time in the adoration chapel. One of my favorite things to do when I am home is to sit in the nave of the church starting at about 4pm on Sunday and pray while the youth band is warming up. We have a great crucifix in our sanctuary and it really lends itself to meditation as I sit there and gaze at it. To be honest with you, it is not always so easy to recollect and to pray so I enjoy these opportunities when they come.

I cannot fully describe every feeling that I had while in town this past week. I will say that there is no other place where I hear the call to priestly ministry than when I am here in College Station. It has nothing to do with the specific places or really even the people. It has everything to do with being able to build relationships with people where they allow you to share the crosses and the joys of their life and then take those things to God in prayer. I have come to realize that there is nothing I can do for someone more useful than taking their intentions to prayer and asking God to bless them and to comfort them. For the longest time that just didn’t seem like enough to me. I wanted to do more! Until I can absolve, anoint, consecrate, baptize, etc. and even after that, prayer will always be enough.

I leave today to head to Temple. I will spend some time with a priest friend before heading to our Seminarian Convocation. It will be great to gather with my brother seminarians from the various seminaries and to catch up on the experiences of summer. The few days will also afford us the opportunity to say farewell to our beloved bishop. After convocation I will be going to South Texas to stay with a priest friend for a couple of days. It will give me a chance to rest, pray, read, relax, and hopefully figure some things out before I return to seminary. I will return to College Station sometime around August 19th and will leave for seminary on the 27th. Many of my brothers at other seminaries have to be back sooner. I ask that you continue to pray for me, my family, and in a special way, please pray for my brother seminarians.

I hope you enjoy the pics. I will post again soon….I hope.

Pax Tecum,
Tom

“Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died…”

2009-07-29T17:39:00.001-05:00

These words were spoken by St. Martha to Jesus shortly after her brother, Lazarus, died. The story is told in the eleventh chapter of John’s gospel. It is a story that I can relate to personally. It is the story we hear in the gospel today on the Memorial of St. Martha.

At first, these words sound like an accusation. In fact, the gospel says that when Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went out to meet him. She did not wait for him to arrive, but instead went out to greet him and perhaps to ask something of him. Martha reminds Jesus that whatever he asks the Father for the Father will give him. Undoubtedly Martha was asking that her brother be brought back to life on earth. The gospel account ends with Martha’s witness that Jesus is, in fact, “the Christ, the Son of God, the one who is coming into the world.” Martha, in the midst of great sadness is able to declare her faith and hope in the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. If only, we were all so faithful.

I have heard this gospel passage many times this summer. At Our Lady of Guadalupe, the families who come to the parish to have a funeral Mass for their loved one who has died rarely pick out their own readings. At OLG, we often use this gospel during the funeral Mass. I have heard the pastor preach his homily on this gospel numerous times (we average about a funeral per week here). Each time I get hung up on the phrase that Martha went out to meet Jesus.

Anyone who has lost someone that is close to them knows how difficult a time it can be. It is a time that will test anyone’s faith, no matter how rooted in their faith he/she is. It is a time when many people feel that God has abandoned them. It is hard to understand why a loving God would let bad things happen to good people. Sure, when we are not in the moment and can think rationally, it is easy to respond, “God allows the bad things to happen so as to bring about a greater good.” We know that in our heads, but in our hearts the words mean very little.

This morning started like most other mornings. I was sitting in the office in the rectory checking emails and preparing to begin my Spanish studies with the Rosetta Stone software. The pastor then walked in the door with a tired look on his face. Normally the pastor would be walking out the door to head to the parish office and not returning at this hour. I noticed a cup of coffee in his hand and his habit draped over his arm. Seeing the habit, I understood that he was returning from a hospital visit.

The pastor told me that he was called to the hospital for a young man (mid-twenties) who is a member of the inter-parroquial Spanish youth group that sometimes meets at our parish. While working construction five days ago, the young man fell off a roof and hit his head. The family called for a priest this morning as they were preparing to remove him from life support. The pastor told me that he anointed the young man and prayed with the family. I could tell that the early hour wake up call was not the only thing tiring out this priest.

We went about our day and I reminded myself to pray for the young man and his family during the Mass at noon. As I was sitting in the chapel, I watched many new faces showing up to Mass. Normally we only have 8-10 people at the mid-day masses but now the chapel was almost full (20-25). I guessed that from the looks of the people who arrived they were friends of the young man from the hospital. Then, during the prayers of intercession, I heard a lady pray for the eternal repose of the young man’s soul.

I must tell you that I was struck deeply by their display of faith. The pastor told me that the people who arrived at the Mass were, in fact, members of the family. Only hours after losing their family member, they were going out to greet Jesus. In their time of sadness and despair, they were going to Jesus and asking him to be with them now.

After Mass, the pastor and I returned to the rectory and were discussing the sad news of the young man’s death. The pastor told me that he had invited the family to the Mass and said that he would offer it for the young man. I kept thinking about the words to the gospel for today. I thought about the amazing faith these people had displayed. I know the next few days will be difficult for them, their friends, and the parish community. However difficult the times may be, we should all follow the example of this family (and St. Martha) and go out to greet Jesus in our time of need.

I realize that this story is perhaps one of the more personal ones (not for me, but for others) I have written about. I hope no one minds me telling the story. I have left names out for a reason. I just wanted to share with you the impact this display of faith had on me. It helps me to realize that when things get tough (no matter how big or small they may seem), we should go out to greet Jesus and not wait for him to come to us. We should turn to him and boldly proclaim, “I have come to believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, the one who is coming into the world.”

Please pray for the repose of the soul of the young man and his family.

Pax Tecum,
Tom

Coming to an end...

2009-07-27T16:11:00.002-05:00

This week I am finishing up at Our Lady of Guadalupe in Austin. I am putting the final touches on the Altar Server Manual that I have been working on and hope to have a final product for them on Friday. I also created a power point with pictures of all of the different items used in Mass and their correct names so that Altar Servers, Sacristans, Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion, etc. can build up their vocabulary.

The highlight of last week was the closing on the sale of my house. Everything went relatively smoothly and I appreciate all of you who offered your prayers. I am happy to be free of that distraction and look forward to a year of discernment without trying to pay a mortgage, electricity, etc every month for a house I don't live in.

On the way home from the closing, the air conditioner in my car went out. I think the compressor seized up because now the car makes a horrible noise when I drive it. The car also is in desperate need of a tune-up and probably a new set of brake pads. I am going to try and get the AC fixed here in Austin (mainly due to the noise to make sure it is not something more serious) and then try to get the rest of the work done when I get to College Station. I have to wait until Wednesday to get it fixed because I am waiting on a parishioner who owns a car shop to get back into town so that I can be sure to get an honest and frugal estimate. The car belongs to the Diocese and I am trying to only fix what is necessary. Suffice to say, I miss my old car but I am still happy to have wheels, even if they are stationary at this point.

I look forward to being in College Station next week. It will be a busy time with a lot of people to try and see. I will be serving all of the masses at St. Thomas Aquinas on the weekend of the 8th and 9th so if you are in town, please stop by and say hello (to Jesus first and then me if you have time).

I hope all is well with you. It is hard to believe how fast this summer has gone by. Before you know it I will be back to waking up at 5:30am at seminary.

Pax Tecum,
Tom

Cook'em low and cook'em slow...

2009-07-21T11:22:00.000-05:00

This is a common saying that is often heard when referring to the preferred method of cooking ribs. To get the best tasting and most tender ribs, you should cook them at low heat at a very slow rate. For me personally, I bake them (if I don’t have a smoker) for three hours at 200 or 250 degrees and then brown them up on the grill.

I was reminded of this saying as I was reading Archbishop Timothy Dolan’s book Priests for the Third Millennium. I have read this book each summer for the past three years. I first read it while I was discerning applying for seminary. Then I read it as I was preparing for my first year in seminary and now I read it again as I prepare to begin my second year.

The fourth chapter of the book talks about the virtue of humility and how it is an essential virtue for a priest to have. Archbishop Dolan, in speaking about priestly formation in particular and growth in holiness in general, mentions that we need to have more of a “crock pot” approach rather than a “microwave” approach. That is, we must realize that we are not in control of our own salvation. We do not grow in holiness by the things that we do. To think that we can merit our own salvation by the things we do and therefore do not need a savior would make us Pelagians. Another trap in our growth in humility is pragmatism. Pragmatism basically involves us priding ourselves on our practicality and getting things done. It is a focus on doing rather than believing.

I must admit that in various situations in my life I have struggled to be humble. Outwardly at times I may display what people see as humility but in my heart I still have a somewhat pragmatic approach. I tend to try and put everything in order. I love checklists and seeing my progress by looking at what I have done. In seminary, my grades (wrongfully so) became the indicator to me that I was doing the right thing. I was so focused on “doing”, that I lost track of “being.”

Perhaps the greatest test of my patience and my willingness to submit to the will of God has involved my house. God willing, I will close on the sale of my house in two days. Anyone who knows me well knows what an enormous amount of stress this has been for me. I never doubted that in the end God’s will would be done. The part that I struggled with is that it wasn’t happening on my time table. At one point I received an offer on my house and I was tempted to take it. I struggled for a couple of days before finally discerning that it was not the right time. My house was on the market for fifteen months (almost ten months with lots of showings but no offer) and only sold when I resolved myself to accept God’s will and pray for his assistance. It is somewhat ridiculous that it took me that long to realize it.

There are other parts of my life where I tend to want things done on my timetable. I want to see conversion in people sooner. I want to know that my words to them and the love I show them have an effect. I want to see the effects of my actions. I even came up with a name for this type of behavior “Boomerang ministry.” Most of us can remember playing with a boomerang at some point in our life. We throw it out knowing that it is designed to come back to us. I don’t know about you but I was never successful in having it come back to me. I was quite happy to conclude that there was something wrong with the boomerang. I was unwilling to admit that it took practice, technique, and letting go of unrealistic expectations before I would ever have the boomerang come back.

I bring all of this up because I think the same thing applies to our spiritual lives and our paths to holiness. I get quite frustrated at times when I find myself battling the same sins, the same temptations, or simply having a bad attitude. I want to be holy and I and want it now! I get frustrated when I feel like I don’t have the prayer life that I think I should have or the one that I want. I get frustrated when I feel like I have not made the progress in my path to holiness that I should.

Obviously, I need a good dose of humility. I need to submit myself to the “crock pot” style that is seminary formation. And I need to remember the words of this past Sunday’s gospel and learn to go away to quiet places to pray and rest. Next Sunday’s gospel also has a good message (i.e. multiplication of the loaves). If I bring all that I have, and nothing less) to God and give myself over to him, he will have me recline and then will provide for me in abundance.

No one likes to admit their faults or encounter the areas where we need to grow, but I would like to encourage all of you to join me in this quest to adopt a “cook’em low and cook’em slow attitude.” Let’s not put God on our timetable. I am sure that what he has prepared for us will be worth the wait.

Pax Tecum,
Tom

Life at OLG

2009-07-16T15:18:00.007-05:00

As I finish up my assignment at Our Lady of Guadalupe in Austin, I want to share some pictures with you to show you where I have spent my summer. This is the first time that I have used my camera this summer. I am not sure why I don't spend more time going out and taking photographs. I really enjoy it. Perhaps I will take some with all the free time that I have at seminary (hah!). Anyway, I hope you enjoy the pics. I only have seventeen (calendar days) here at OLG and am trying to get a few things wrapped up before I go.

This is the stained glass window is in the choir loft. Every weekend during the summer, as the Eucharistic prayer is being said at around 6:45pm, the sun shines through this window and bathes the altar in beautiful reds, violets, and pinks. It is my favorite time of the weekend.

If you don't know what the above picture is showing, run to your nearest Catholic Church and ask the priest like your life depends on it (sorry...had to).

The parish is 102 years old. I am not sure how long the church building itself has been around but it is fairly old.

I hope you enjoy the pics. Keep praying as my house closing is set for 10am on July 23rd.

Pax Tecum,

Tom

Lighter Side of Life

2009-07-13T19:23:00.003-05:00

The past couple of times I posted I realized that I spent most of the time reflecting on Scripture. I figured maybe it was time to just let you know what is going on in my life in general.

My time here at Our Lady of Guadalupe in Austin is quickly coming to an end. I have really enjoyed being a part of this parish for the summer. It is a predominantly Hispanic parish and reminds me a lot of the parish I grew up in (Santa Cruz in Buda). It is a little different being the minority for a change. There are many times when I am the only Anglo in the room. Thankfully my Spanish is improving and I can pretty much understand most of the conversations going on around me. I still cannot speak Spanish as well as I would like. I lector at daily mass in Spanish and can read the language with little difficulty. I figure speaking it is not too far away.

This past weekend I went on retreat with the Teen ACTS group. It was a good experience and I am glad I went however it was different from other experiences that I have had on youth retreats. This time I was on the retreat as a seminarian and not as a CORE team member or small group leader. I was able to pop in and out of the talks and take some time to myself as well. I was called on quite a few times to lead times of prayer and am learning to pray on the fly! I got a chance to talk to a few of the teens one-on-one after being asked to do so by the retreat staff. I think that God has given me the gifts to do well in these situations so I was thankful to have them.

This week at the parish I am writing a manual for the Altar Servers at the parish. I also will be serving at two funerals and a wedding in addition to the regular masses this weekend. Tomorrow I am taking my 17 year old nephew over to College Station for the day to show him Texas A&M. He will be a senior in high school this year in Ohio and is still undecided as to what college he wants to attend. Thursday I will be joining my brother seminarians who are still in Austin for the summer for a bbq with our new Vocations Director. Our new Vocations Director is my former spiritual director and confessor when I was in College Station. I look forward to seeing him again.

I will try to keep you informed as to what is going on in my life over the next few months. Before I know it I will be back in Irving to start my second year of seminary. I look forward to spending some time in College Station in August. I hope to see many of you while I am there.

Pax Tecum,
Tom

Shepherd or Sheep Dog?

2009-07-12T15:52:00.001-05:00

During the fourth week of Easter, while at seminary, I found myself paying particular attention to the Mass readings that week. The readings were from the tenth Chapter of the fourth Gospel (John). In this particular image Jesus uses the images of a gate, a gatekeeper, a shepherd, and his sheep to describe his own relationship with the people. In the beginning Jesus says that he himself is the gate and that to gain access to the sheep one must enter through him.

As Jesus uses this imagery to talk about his relationship to his flock he says this about a shepherd, “When he has driven out all his own, he walks ahead of them, and the sheep follow him, because they recognize his voice. But they will not follow a stranger; they will run away from him, because they do not recognize the voice of strangers." (Jn 10:4-5).

I began to think about this verse in terms of discerning my vocation to become a priest. It is pretty clear that a priest is called to live his life as an image of Christ for his people. It is also clear that a bishop is the shepherd for his local flock (diocese). While celebrating the liturgy a bishop will carry what is called a “crozier.” The crozier looks like a long walking stick with a hook at the top of it. The hook is more decorative than functional but there is a great deal of symbolism built into its use. For example, if you watch a bishop preside at liturgy you will notice that when he is holding the crozier he holds it with the hook extending outward or away from him and towards the people. As the shepherd he is responsible for gently pulling the sheep back into the fold when they begin to wander. When anyone else (i.e. seminarian serving with the bishop) holds the crozier it is turned so that the hook faces inward and not toward the people.

The priest, being the local representative of the bishop to his smaller flock (the parish) must then take on the role of the shepherd. It is for this reason that we call him a “pastor” which is Latin for “shepherd.” As it says in the gospel, the priest is to walk out in front of his flock and use his voice to lead the people. It is the priest’s voice that will be used to teach, to preach, to say words that save (“I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit”), the words that absolve (“I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit”), the words that make Jesus present in the Eucharist (“take this all of you….), and the words that console (“Eternal rest grant unto him oh Lord….”). At times it is even necessary that when the sheep stray, the shepherd must use his voice to bring them back into the fold.

I bring this up because as I read the tenth chapter of John I realize that many times in my life I tend to be more of a sheep dog than a shepherd. I tend to bark at people and bite at their ankles (figuratively not literally…work with me here) when I see them straying from the fold. I find this to be especially true when I work with teens. Instead of walking out in front of the flock and leading with my voice, I run around the edges and run after the one or two that stray away. I do all I can to convince them to rejoin the flock. I try to convince them that I know what is best for them and that they should follow the Good Shepherd. Sometimes, the sheep dog method is quite effective and I think, at times, it is even necessary. However, there are other times when I realize that the sheep dog, while effective at keeping the flock together (through a sort of intimidation or convincing), the flock fails to move forward. It is the shepherd who moves his flock because he knows the way and he walks out in front. The sheep follow him because they know his voice and they know that they will lay down their lives for their sheep.

As I prayed about this chapter of the gospel I realized that I did not need to wait until my ordination (God willing) to use my voice like that of the shepherd. I quickly realized that there were times where my words were harsh, short, sarcastic, condescending, and lacking patience. It did not matter what my intentions were in regards to correcting another’s behavior, because I did not say it with charity they rightfully failed to follow my voice. I also reflected on the many times where my voice not only did not bring people back to the flock, it led them in the opposite direction. As I realized the effects that our voices can have on others I prayed that God would help me to choose my words carefully so as to never lead anyone astray.

Verses 14 and 15 also gave me food for thought, “I am the good shepherd, and I know mine and mine know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I will lay down my life for the sheep.” Not only as a pastor one day (Si Dios Quiere – If God Wills), but now as a son, a friend, and a brother, I want the people around me to know me. I want to be transparent. I want to be a man who believes what he reads (the Gospel), teaches what he believes, and practices what he teaches. I want my flock (friends, family, and brother seminarians) to know that I would lay down my life for them. I don’t meant this in the sense of how I used to be willing to lay down my life (as a police officer) but in the sense that I will make the appropriate sacrifices to help people find, meet, and follow Christ the Good Shepherd.

It is not always an easy thing to do but I do thing that it is what God intends for my life. In fact, I think God is calling all of us to be shepherds rather than sheep dogs. Whether you are a husband, father, wife, mother, brother, or sister, I believe that God is calling all of us to live our lives in such a way that we walk out in front of the flock. I believe that each of us must use our voice in a way that the people around us will follow us instead of run in the opposite directions. I understand the temptation (especially for parents) to be a sheepdog more often than a shepherd but that is certainly not the image Jesus chose to give us. Of course, we cannot all be shepherds all of the time. We must also be willing to be the sheep and be led.

Anyway, I just wanted to share my thoughts once again. Some of you may think I am wrong or over analyzing. Perhaps you are right. However, it less important to me that you think I am right as it is to get you to think about how the Gospel applies to our lives here and now.

Pax Tecum,
Tom

Prayer Requests

2009-07-08T21:46:00.002-05:00

Hello all! Many times I have asked those of you who read the blog to send me prayer requests so that I can join my prayers to yours. This time it is me who is asking you to pray for some special intentions.

First of all I would like you to pray for my step-sister who was recently diagnosed with breast cancer. Her mother passed away from breast cancer 7-8 years ago. I don't have any other information but please keep her, her father (my step-father), and her family in your prayers.

Secondly, please pray for my Uncle who suffered a heart attack earlier in the week. They got to the hospital quickly and discovered he had 100% blockage. Thankfully they were able to put in a stint and he should recover nicely. I am pretty sure that he has already been released from the hospital.

Also, I will ask you to pray for the teens from Our Lady of Guadalupe in Austin who will be on retreat this weekend. Pray that they are able to hear God calling them each by name. Please pray for the staff, the young adult leaders, and all who are working to make this retreat happen.

Finally, please continue to keep the sale of my house on your prayer list. As of now, I am scheduled to close on July 23rd and all is going well so far. It will be a tremendous blessing to start my second year of seminary without this distraction.

Having said all that, I will be going on the retreat with the teens. We leave tomorrow and will return for Mass on Sunday at 11:30am. I am expecting my godson and his family to come into town for a visit Sunday afternoon so it will be a busy weekend. I only have about four weeks left here at Our Lady of Guadalupe and there is still lots to do.

Please know that I continue to pray for you all and your families but feel free to send me any special prayer requests (even if you just say, "please pray for a special intention"). I don't need the details unless you feel like sharing them.

I want to leave you with one more snipit from Pope Benedict's Encyclical. I continue to work my way through it although I must admit most of it is over my head:

"The conviction that man is self-sufficient and can successfully eliminate the evil present in history by his own action alone has led him to confuse happiness and salvation with immanent forms of material prosperity and social action."

Pax Tecum,
Tom

Caritas in Veritate...my thoughts

2009-07-07T21:22:00.001-05:00

Pope Benedict XVI released his third encyclical today. This one is titled Caritas in Veritate or Charity in Truth. I have only read the first two chapters but just wanted to share some of the lines that stood out to me:

“Man's earthly activity, when inspired and sustained by charity, contributes to the building of the universal city of God, which is the goal of the history of the human family.”

“Only through an encounter with God are we able to see in the other something more than just another creature, to recognize the divine image in the other, thus truly coming to discover him or her and to mature in a love that “becomes concern and care for the other.””

“Precisely because God gives a resounding “yes” to man, man cannot fail to open himself to the divine vocation to pursue his own development. The truth of development consists in its completeness: if it does not involve the whole man and every man, it is not true development.”

“Reason, by itself, is capable of grasping the equality between men and of giving stability to their civic coexistence, but it cannot establish fraternity. This originates in a transcendent vocation from God the Father, who loved us first, teaching us through the Son what fraternal charity is.”

“I would like to remind everyone, especially governments engaged in boosting the world's economic and social assets, that the primary capital to be safeguarded and valued is man, the human person in his or her integrity: “Man is the source, the focus and the aim of all economic and social life””

“God is the guarantor of man's true development, inasmuch as, having created him in his image, he also establishes the transcendent dignity of men and women and feeds their innate yearning to “be more”.”

I think the following is my favorite so far:

“Deeds without knowledge are blind, and knowledge without love is sterile.”

Pax Tecum,
Tom

Let Freedom Ring…

2009-07-06T20:49:00.002-05:00

Over the course of the past weekend, many people across America gathered with their friends, families, co-workers, etc. to celebrate the anniversary of the United States’ independence from Great Britain. Despite the oppressive heat in Texas, many people decided to have parades, barbecues, fireworks displays, and pool parties. Everyone dressed up in red, white, and blue and showed their patriotism.

I think the Fourth of July is one of those holidays that lost some of its meaning over the years. Don’t get me wrong, some people truly celebrate our freedom but many are more concerned with the three or four day weekend and the festivities that follow. The news programs will often run stories about our brave men and women who continue to fight in order to protect our freedom. I am thankful for those men and women and believe their sacrifices should be honored. As I spent my weekend with friends relaxing, enjoying creature comforts, and enjoying the freedom that has been given to me, I began to think to myself, “What does it mean to be free and what is true freedom?”

Initially when I think about the answer to those questions, the words to the Rolling Stones song, “I’m free to do what I want, any old time,” (shame on you if you didn’t just sing that to yourself) or Dr. Martin Luther King’s words, “Free at last! Free at last! Thank God almighty, we are free at last.” Certainly I think that Dr. King had a more appropriate definition of the word freedom. I think one of the difficulties that many of us face is thinking that freedom means to choose what we want whenever we want it. This definition of freedom has led to a battle of another kind, a battle against relativism. We now live in a world where a large number of people believe that they are free only if there is no one around telling them what to do. They rebel against their parents, their teachers, the government, the law, the Church, and even God.

Most of us who are past the age of adolescence know the struggle of living under our parents’ roof. As we grew older we started to think that we knew what was best for us and thought that we should be allowed to make our own decisions. Things such as curfews, phone restrictions, bedtimes, and other rules were seen as being unjustified oppression by our parents. We were often told that the rules were for our own good but that was always a hard pill for me to swallow.

When I went to college I was free to make a lot more decisions than I previously was able to. Sometimes I made decisions based on what my parents had taught me. Other times I did what I wanted to do when I wanted to do it. Can you guess which decision making process worked the best for me? After college I worked for a police department. Those of you that do work for or have worked for a police department have certainly encountered the beloved policy manual. We always heard the expression that the policies were more guidelines than rules, although we quickly learned the difference between “may” and “shall.” To a young officer, the policies seemed stifling. They seemed to be written by people who were determined to make sure that everything was done the hard way and no enjoyment whatsoever should come from following then. At times they seemed to be as restrictive as my vest or shirt stays. It took a while to appreciate that by staying within policy at all times, I was actually freer to do my job in a way that was safe, effective, and, at times, fun.

And then there are those little rules called Natural Law and the Ten Commandments. There is that long list of things that Scripture and Sacred Tradition tell me are not good for me. Thankfully we do not have the 613 laws of the Mosaic covenant to live by. In fact, when ten seemed to be too many to the minimalist who asked Jesus which of the commandments was the most important, Jesus summarized them into two rules. And yet, many people see the way of life that stems from following these two rules as restricting and oppressive. In the name of freedom they make comments like, “The Church needs to stay out of my life and out of my bedroom,” “the church should not tell me how to raise my children,” or “who is the Church to tell me how to live my life?”

My parents, my supervisors at the police department, and even the church have told me my entire life that these rules are put into place for my own good. I have heard the phrase that freedom comes from obedience. As I get older, this makes more and more sense to me. Most of us have heard that through one man’s disobedience sin entered the world and through one man’s obedience we became free or through one woman’s disobedience we separated ourselves from God and through one woman’s “fiat” we were given the gift of the Son of God so that we might be brought back into communion with God. Even Pope John Paul II condemned (indirectly) the Rolling Stones definition of freedom when he said that Freedom is being able to choose the things that are good for us. In more philosophical terms, freedom is being able to choose what we are naturally ordered to do. As humans, we are ordered to be in full communion with God. That is the goal of life. The goal is not to get the most pleasure out of this life while we can. Instead it is to live our lives in obedience to the ways of God so that we can become more like him and one day be reunited with him in heaven. Through our obedience to God we become free to choose the things that are best for us. In doing what is best for us, we will discover happiness.

So I wonder, am I really free? It seems at times that my concupiscence and my own desires keep me from choosing the things that are best from me. My pride prevents me from being obedient at all times. There seems to be a battle for my freedom that is fought much closer to home. These are the battles that most of us fight everyday in our hearts. It seems to me that we should celebrate the victories when they occur. Perhaps we don’t need a holiday, or floats, or a particular color to mark the occasion. For me, the celebration occurs at the altar, in the Eucharist, where the war has already been won.

Pax Tecum,
Tom

PS. I know this entry is a little scatter brained. I have been mulling over these thoughts for several days and sometimes if I don’t write them down immediately they get jumbled and don’t come out as well. I offer them as an insight into what I am thinking. They are not meant as any sort of spiritual advice or preaching. I speak with no authority other than as a man who is trying to figure things out and doesn’t mind sharing his progress.

Mi casa es su casa...

2009-06-26T16:58:00.002-05:00

This is a Spanish phrase that many of us know and say whether we speak Spanish or not. The phrase means my house is your house. It is often said in order to make someone feel welcome in our house and let them know that we would like to show them our hospitality. Today, I used a similar phrase that still had the same underlying meaning, “mi carro es su carro (my car is your car).”

For four days this week I have been attending Basic Youth Ministry classes at the Pastoral Center. I have another blog entry in the works about the classes and some thoughts that I had but I want to share this other experience with you first. We got out of class today a little before 3pm today. I thought that I might beat the traffic on IH 35. However, I am quickly learning that traffic on IH 35 is always a disaster and it really starts to get bad after lunch on Fridays. It took me about twenty minutes to complete what should have been a five to ten minute trip back to the rectory.

As I got settled into the house and put my phone on the charger, I walked out of my room headed for the office so that I could work on Rosetta Stone in order to learn more Spanish. As I rounded the corner to the kitchen I was startled and almost ran into Sra. Maria. Maria is the lady who comes to the rectory on Wednesdays and Fridays to clean, do laundry, cook, change sheets on the beds, etc. Usually she leaves around 2pm so I did not expect her to still be there. She only speaks Spanish so some of my attempts to communicate with her are obviously amusing to her. Today was different though. Today I found a way to speak to her that I think we could all understand.

As Maria prepared to leave I noticed that she had an umbrella. I was proud of myself for learning the word for an umbrella yesterday and I said to her, “Usted tiene un paraguas,” (you have an umbrella). She smiled at me and let me know that I got the word right. I continued walking towards the office before I stopped in my tracks and realized why she had the umbrella. I turned around as she was preparing to walk out the door and asked in broken Spanish, “you aren’t walking home are you?” She told me that she was planning on walking to the Sheraton motel where she waits for her daughter to get off work and then the two of them take the bus home together. The Sheraton is not too far (perhaps a mile) but it would mean that she would have to cross IH 35 not to mention walking in 105 degree heat. Maria is in her early seventies and there was no way I was about to let her walk. I asked her if she did this every week and she said that she did. I told her to give me a few minutes and then went to load up my pockets again (cell phone, car keys, house keys, rings, wallet, etc). When I returned I told her that I would give her a ride home in my car. She tried to refuse and told me that her house was too far. I told her that I did not care how far it was but I was going to give her a ride home.

As I traveled North on IH 35 I looked over at the Southbound traffic and grimaced. The traffic was already bumper to bumper and at a standstill. I was not looking forward to the trip home. As we were driving I tried my best to make conversation with Maria in Spanish. I learned that she has been cleaning the priest’s house for the past six years. I told her that I had six more years until ordination. She asked about my family and I told her about my brothers, sister, mom, etc. She then told me about her family as well. She thanked me again for the ride and I said, “Mi carro es su carro.” It was a little cliché but in this case it was actually true! I explained to her that the car was owned by the Diocese and was given to me to use during my time of formation. I told her that the car belonged to her as much as it did to me. She seemed happy with that, smiled, and said, “Gracias.”

As we pulled into her neighborhood she showed me the bus stop where she catches the bus to come to the rectory. We then traveled another mile to her house. I then realized that she walks from the house to the bus stop. I know I would complain about having to live this way. When we arrived at the house she invited me in to meet her family. I met her granddaughter, great grandson, and two dogs. She offered me something to eat and drink several times and I politely refused several times. In hindsight I probably should have accepted something because she was trying to thank me. I don’t know enough Spanish to let her know that I had already received my gift.

I did not stay at the house long as I wanted to get back before the traffic got any worse. I prayed as I sat in traffic in an attempt to not let my temper get the best of me. It also gave me a chance to practice my prayers in Spanish. Before you think that I am patting myself on the back too much, I want you to know that I do not share this as a means to advance my own cause for canonization in your eyes. I just realized what a gift it is to be able to help someone else with the gifts that have been given to you.

You must understand that I find myself at a point in my life where very few of the things I have actually belong to me. Every dollar that passes through my pocket comes from the charity of others (I have what I need so don’t take this as a plea for charity). The car that I drive does not belong to me. The Bible I read from was given to me. The vestments that I wear in Mass were a gift. The computer that I am typing on was a gift. The food I eat is a gift. The phone I talk on is paid for by someone else. The words I use are a gift. My life is gift. You get the idea. Oh yeah, one more, if you are reading this, you are one of those gifts I have received.

As I sit here on a very hot Friday afternoon, I find myself thanking God for the gifts I have been given. The gifts are more enjoyable when I share them. They allow me to see a bigger piece of the puzzle. They bring me closer to God when I share them. I pray that God continues to bring about conversion in my heart. I ask that he continue to allow me to serve his people and share the gifts I have been given. I pray that he give me the generous spirit to mean it when I say to him, “Mi vida es su vida!” (My life is your life).

Pax Tecum,
Tom

“My grace is sufficient for you…”

2009-06-20T11:44:00.001-05:00

The readings for today’s Mass are two of my favorite readings in Scripture. The first reading is from St. Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians (2 Cor 12:1-10). I will let you read the passage for yourself and I will not provide a lot of exegesis but I do want to share a little bit about why I like this passage so much. St. Paul says that when he boasts, he will only boast about his weaknesses because it is in weakness that we become strong. “I will rather boast most gladly of my weaknesses, in order that the power of Christ may dwell in me.”

The gospel for today is the story of Mary and Joseph losing and then finding Jesus in the Temple. For whatever reason, it took Mary and Joseph three days to find Jesus. I am not sure whether this is due to the physical distance that they had traveled from him or whether they did not know where to look. Jesus’ response to them seems to imply that they had not looked in the right place for him.

Both of these readings are relevant to my journey over the past year and my experiences this summer here at Our Lady of Guadalupe. I have encountered my weaknesses in many ways over the last year. One thing that seminary is good at is allowing a seminarian time away from all of the other masks that he has worn throughout his life to discover both his strengths and his weaknesses. Seminary is a time of discernment. It is a time not only to discern whether or not God is calling us to be a priest or whether we want to be a priest, but it is also a time for us to discern our gifts that have been given to us. It is also a time for us to discern what parts of our lives need healing, correcting, or remodeling. Often times I have considered encountering these weaknesses to be difficult and have seen them as my cross to bear. Perhaps that is true, but each time that I have encountered a weakness it has brought me closer to God. It has allowed me to stop listening to my pride and some of the delusions that the devil and the world lead us to believe and to discover the truth about God’s mercy and love. At times, it is a pain in the side as St. Paul mention’s, but that pain is a grace and as the scripture says, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.”

I have a more concrete example of the gospel that few people witnessed directly. Last summer I had the privilege to take some of the teens from our parish to World Youth Day in Sydney, Australia. It was a difficult trip in many ways but was also filled with many blessings. On one night in particular the group was separated. Of course this happened on the one night when we didn’t pass out the handheld radios. One half of the group went to a Matt Maher concert in the Sydney convention center and the other group somehow got separated despite our best efforts to stay together. I left one group at the concert hall and told them not to leave. I then went in search of the other group which consisted of about half our group. As I walked the area of Darling Harbour retracing our steps, I simply could not find the other group. I was worried because I knew some of the other teens would not be able to find their way back to our hotel and had no way to call me. I thought for sure that I was going to have to explain to six sets of parents that I had somehow lost their children. Having given up on the search, I went back to the concert almost in tears. As I arrived back at the concert, the group was in the middle of adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. As I joined our group I realized that those who I thought were lost had joined up with the rest of the group. You cannot imagine the feeling of relief that I felt. Immediately this scene from the gospel came to mind. I don’t think that I ever felt closer to what Mary and Joseph must have felt. Of course, I did not have the added stress of knowing that the child I lost was the Messiah that would save the world!

Aside from experiences such as that one, I experience this gospel almost daily. I think most of us tend to look for God in the wrong places. Most of us know that we can find God in the Eucharist, at Mass, in prayer, in adoration, etc, but I think many of us miss the many times He is right there with us in our normal daily activities. A few weeks ago I was serving a funeral at Our Lady of Guadalupe (we have one or two each week). As I walked from the front of the church down the street to the back entrance into the sacristy, I encountered a homeless man pushing his cart up the street picking up cans. As the man saw me walking down the street dressed in cassock and surplice carrying the processional cross, he stopped, took of his hat, placed it over his heart, and paused while I passed by. I tried to smile at him and nodded my head as I passed him. I learned from watching that man. In my mind he had every reason to be mad at God. I thought to myself, I wonder if I was in his position would I have done the same. In my current state of life which is fairly comfortable I am embarrassed to admit that I may not have paid any attention to a guy walking by carrying a cross. That man taught me something and I think you can figure it out for yourself what the lesson is. It needs no explanation. One thing I will remember about that experience combined with others here at OLOG is that I must keep my eyes open for Jesus wherever I go. I may be surprised at where I find him. At times it will be difficult to find him in some people, but he is there. I think it is just a matter of how hard I am willing to look for him.

Anyway, I apologize for perhaps trying to pull too much out of these scriptures but wanted to share my thoughts. I will try to post more often (a promise I have not been that faithful too) and share with you some of the many wonderful experiences I am having. In the meantime, please join me in a prayer of thanksgiving as my house is under contract after being on the market for 14 months. Please keep the situation in prayer and pray that the closing goes well on July 23rd. Until then all of you and your families remain in my prayers.

Pax Tecum,
Tom

What an awesome week!

2009-06-10T09:54:00.002-05:00

My internet access has been somehwat limited since I arrived at my summer assignment. The first problem was a hardware issue, namely, my laptop was stolen. Once I recieved a new laptop I was able to connect to the internet in the rectory. However, in an attempt to install a wireless router and set up a wireless network, the two other seminarians that I live with and I managed to break the whole thing. So, now I am am waiting on someone much more capable than I to clean up the mess we made and hopefully get the internet working again soon. In the meantime, I am working in the church office which I only have access to during the day since I do not have a key.

Anyway, that is enough whining for a while. I am only bemoaning the lack of internet because I wanted to share with you a few of my experiences the past week or so. On Saturday, our diocese celebrated the ordination of five men to the priesthood. I had the privilege to serve at the Mass. Two years ago I came to the ordinations and sat in the pews and watched from that perspective. Last year I sat in the section for seminarians and had a little better view of what was going on. My perspective was definitely different as I sat there and wondered if the day would come when my nose would hit the marble (the newly ordained prostrate during the Litany of the Saints). By sitting in the section for seminarians I could clearly see the face of the bishop and the other priests as they prayed over the newly ordained and laid hands on them.

This year, I was able to see the ordinations from a new perspective. Having completed a year of seminary I understood more the joys, trials, challenges, blessings, etc that come along with being in seminary. I was able to serve the Mass and view the ceremony where I could see the faces of the newly ordained as the bishop was speaking to them, praying over them, laying hands on them, and annointing there hands. The expression on the new priests face was priceless. At one point the bishop made reference to the fact that six years ago the newly ordained were sitting in a pew wondering if God might be calling them to the priesthood. At that point, one of the newly ordained who I had been talking to prior to the Mass looked at me and winked as I too sat there six years from ordination wondering what plans God had in store. Overall, it was a wonderful day and it gave me great hope, not only for my own life and possible vocation to the priesthood, but also for the future of the church in central Texas.

The next day we celebrated Confirmation with seventeen kids from our parish. It is always a joy and blessing to celebrate this sacrament with our teens and it is always a good day when I get to serve a Mass with the bishop. His homily was great and touched many people in the church. The parish was having a small festival the rest of the day so I joined in on the fun.

On Monday I attended a reception for our Vocations Director and our Vicar General who are both moving on to new assignments. Both of these men have played an important role in my life not only in terms of discernment but in giving me Fatherly advice and being a friend to me. Our Diocese is truly blessed to have them and they are a model for the type of priest I hope to be.

Yesterday was my day off and I decided to spend it by myself. Spending time alone is not something that I often do as I am more accustomed to visiting people and running from one thing to another or talking with someone on the phone. I slept in (almost 9am) and then went for a walk up and down the shores of Lake Austin. I left the phone at home and just enjoyed the quiet. I did not have an Ipod in my ears and it would have been quiet had it not been for the many people who had the same idea as me. It was still a pleasant walk and I think I will do it more often. I spent the rest of the afternoon browsing at bookstores before returning home.

When I arrived back at the rectory I got a call from the office letting me know that I had a package. When I opened the box I was more than pleased to discover that my Summertime Roman cassock had arrived. This cassock is made of lighter material and it will definitely keep me cooler while serving at Mass and other events. The one I had previously (year rounder), while made of heavier material and more formal, is extremely hot in a church where the air conditioning works just enough to keep me from passing out. When I ordered the cassock I was told that it was on back order for 3-5 weeks. I was overjoyed when it arrived in less than 2.

We have a busy weekend ahead: three funerals, an ordination anniversary mass, a wedding, and five weekend masses (for any priests that are reading this, I am not pleading for sympathy as I know this may be considered a light weekend by your standards. Hopefully I am shedding light for others who may not realize how hard you work). Overall, though I am really enjoying being back in a parish and am at peace in my new assignment. I am sure that it will be over before I know it.

In the meantime, please continue to pray for me as I continue to pray for you and your family.

Pax Tecum,
Tom

Still Alive

2009-05-28T09:22:00.002-05:00

Greetings all. First off, I would like to apologize for not posting for approximately two months. I do not have a great excuse other than to say that the last few months of seminary were a challenging time filled with lots of opportunities for growth. I will try to be more faithful in posting this summer as I know some of you have expressed an interest in sharing these experiences with me.

This summer I have been assigned to Our Lady of Guadalupe Parish in East Austin. I am living in the rectory with two other seminarians and the pastor, Friar Francisco. My primary responsibility is to improve my Spanish speaking skills. I will also help out with Altar Servers and any other tasks the parish needs me to do. I moved into the rectory on Memorial Day and am enjoying being back in a parish setting. Afterall, ministry in a parish is what I feel called to do.

I have limited computer accident due to an unfortunate incident my first day here but I should have more access soon. There are a couple of thoughts and reflections from the last few months that I would like to share with you all and will try to post them soon. I hope to post more regularly over the summer.

In the meantime please know that you and those that you love are in my prayers. Please continue to pray for me, my brother seminarians, and all those who may be discerning a call to the priesthood or religious life.

Pax Tecum,
Tom

Sweet Home Seminary...

2009-03-16T14:50:00.000-05:00

Yeah, I know Lynyrd Skynard never cut this version of the song Sweet Home Alabama and I do not think anyone else is about to cut it either. I will admit that I was not exactly jumping for joy upon arriving back to seminary after our Spring Break. Before you begin to think that seminary is a horrible place, let me explain.

As I pulled in to the seminary yesterday evening, I did have that feeling of arriving home after a long trip. After I unloaded the car, threw my bags in the middle of the room (where they remain unpacked and completely in my way), and put away my hanging clothes, I sat down for a brief moment and was glad to be “home” after a long day. I was actually surprised that I found more comfort in my worn out twin mattress than I did in the plush Queen sized mattress at the La Quinta Hotel where I stayed the night before. There is just something comforting about your own space where you spend a majority of your time.

I did not have long to relax as I had to join the rest of my seminarian brothers for Vespers (Evening Prayer) followed by a house meeting. After the meeting I returned to my room to write a paper that was due first thing Monday morning. I got to sleep around midnight and realized that 5:40AM was going to come quickly. I was greeted this morning by a nice cold shower. I must shamefully admit that my first thought was that the Rector of the seminary found a new way to shave a few dollars off the budget. My next thought was that it was an attempt to make us live a more ascetic lifestyle during this penitential time of Lent. Either way, I decided to offer it up and remembered all the folks who are in Guatemala this week for the Medical Mission trip. I was there last year and remembered the joys of cold showers. I decided it was God’s little way of reminding me to pray for them.

Anyway, I digress. The point of all this was to let you know that for the first time in my life, I feel kind of homesick. I miss being around my friends and family on a daily basis. The trips home are never long enough. It is hard to get motivated to come back to a challenging academic and spiritual environment like seminary. Thankfully God gives us the grace we need to persevere.

I also realized something else this past week. I really love being in a parish. I guess that is a pretty good thing for someone discerning a life as a parish priest! My point is that I feel truly at home when I am in a parish and not just my home parish. This past weekend I visited a parish in Kyle and gave a talk after communion about vocations. I just love going to Mass with the families and meeting all of the people after Mass. I look forward to the time in my life when I get to be in a parish full time.

Until then, I need to buckle down and get to work. The academic calendar is back in full swing and I have a fairly demanding week ahead. Next weekend I will be traveling to Houston to staff a Confirmation Retreat with one of my brother seminarians. I anticipate it being another much needed shot in the arm for me.

I want to reflect on today’s Mass readings sometime this week when I have a little more time. The readings talk about finding God in the ordinary instead of the extraordinary. Until then I wanted to share with you the text from the talk I gave this weekend. I also want to thank those of you who left comments. I do read them and I appreciate them. Here is the talk (please forgive any bad grammar or typing mistakes):

Good Morning / Good Evening. As Father said, my name is Tom Reitmeyer and I am a first year Seminarian with the Diocese of Austin.

Each year the Bishop asks seminarians to visit several parishes in the diocese. I was excited when I learned that I had been assigned to visit St. Anthony’s. You see, this is a bit of a homecoming for me. I grew up living in Manchaca for most of my life. I went to elementary and middle schools in Buda. My family and I were members of Santa Cruz Catholic Church in Buda. As I drove into Kyle this weekend, I remembered playing little league football in a field located in this general area. When I pulled into the church, I quickly realized that you all built a church on my football field. Don’t worry, I approve. I also remembered making trips to Five Mile Dam with my Father. And, of course, there is not mistaking the smell of the wonderful food at Railroad BBQ.

I am here today for two reasons, the first being to talk to you about vocations. To begin I would like to briefly share with you a portion of my own vocation story. As I already mentioned I grew up here in Hays County. Like most families, my family was not perfect. We had our share of problems and difficulties that we had to work through. However, despite all the difficulties, my parents made sure to instill in me the values of the Catholic Faith, the importance of prayer, and a desire to do the right thing. My family was involved in the life of our parish. My mother taught me CCD and prepared me for First Communion. My father was also involved in the Knights of Columbus and Boy Scouts. By being actively involved in the life of the parish, my parents taught me that love and service to God and His church should be a priority in my life.

After graduating from high school in Austin, I attended college at Texas A&M University. After graduation, I began a career in law enforcement. Admittedly during this time in my life, my faith was not of primary importance. Sure I went to Mass on Sundays here and there, but I made excuses for why it was okay to miss every so often. After all, I was young, single, had a great job, I was advancing in my job quickly, I was making good money, and I had a fast sports car. What else could I possibly want to be happy?

In 2005, a friend of mine approached me and asked me to be his son’s Godfather. I could not believe that this friend would choose me to be an example of faith for his son. I quickly responded to the invitation and said that I would be honored. However, I knew that if I was going to stand before God and make a promise to ensure that this child was raised in the faith, then I better get my act in gear. I first went to confession and then began to attend Mass EVERY Sunday. I even started going to daily Mass when I could. I began reading and studying the catechism and other books about our faith. I prepared for and received the Sacrament of Confirmation as an adult. It was the gifts and fruits of the Holy Spirit that allowed me to make God a priority in my life. I committed myself to times of prayer and active service in my parish.

As my heart grew closer to God, it grew further and further away from police work. Despite having all the things the world said I needed to be happy, I realized that something was missing. I heard another invitation. This invitation came from parishioners, friends, and priests who asked me to consider whether God was calling me to the priesthood. I began to pray for the grace to hear God’s voice and asked him to change my heart if he was indeed calling me to the priesthood. Through active ministry in my parish, participation in Diocesan Discernment events, and living a sacramental life, I clearly heard God’s invitation to further discernment in seminary. I cannot and will not stand here today and tell you for sure that I am called to be a priest, but I will tell you that God has asked me to put my plans aside and to follow him by continuing to discern His will for my life in seminary.

I would like to speak to the parents that are here tonight / this morning. I would ask that each of you encourage your child to consider his / her vocation carefully. Be open to the very real possibility that God may be calling your son or daughter to a life as a priest or a religious sister. Be active in the life of your parish and instill in your children a sense of priority in loving and serving God and his church. Encourage your child to participate in youth groups and other organizations within the church. Make it clear to your child that while pleasure may be found in the things of the world, true happiness is found in following the will of God. I don’t need to try and convince any of you that your child is a special gift from God. I will, however, point you to the words of St. Matthew’s Gospel when in talking about the gifts we have received it says, “without cost you have received, without cost you are to give.”

To the young people that are here, I echo Pope John Paul II’s words when he said, “Do not be afraid.” Do not be afraid to follow God’s will for your life. Do not be afraid to say “No” to the temptations and empty promises of a society who has little room for God in their daily life. Remember that your vocation, whether it is a call to marriage, single life, priesthood, or religious life, is a direct invitation from God to live your life in the manner that will bring you the most joy and happiness. Do not expect God to reveal his will to you in the form of a text message, certified letter, on Twitter, or on Facebook. You will only hear the sweet sound of God’s voice when you quiet your hearts and free yourself of all distractions so that you can listen closely to what it is He is saying to you.

The second reason for my visit, and perhaps the most important, is to say, “Thank you.” On behalf of all of the Austin seminarians I would like to thank you for all of your love, your prayers, and your continued financial and spiritual support. We all feel truly blessed to be called to discern God’s will for our lives in a diocese that is filled with such faithful people. Please be assured of our sincere gratitude and our prayers for you and those that you love.

Finally, I leave you with a verse of scripture that my brother passed on to me many years ago. It comes from Chapter 3 of Proverbs and it says, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, on your own intelligence rely not; In all your ways be mindful of him, and he will make straight your paths.”

Thanks and God Bless.

Have a good week everyone!

Pax Tecum,
Tom

"It's good that we are here..."

2009-03-09T11:25:00.003-05:00

These were the words of Peter as he stood on the mountain with James and John and witnessed the Transfiguration of our Lord. I love the gospel reading about the Transfiguration. For the most part this is because I was born on August 6^th which is when the church celebrates the Feast of the Transfiguration. Each year as I celebrate my birthday I always listen to this gospel story and think about my life.

As I heard the gospel yesterday, I was serving Mass at my home parish, St. Thomas Aquinas in College Station. Even before the Mass as I entered the church and began to pray, I could not help but think to myself, “it is good to be here.” For those of you who have seen it, you know how special the crucifix in the sanctuary of the church is. I love to go in the church, sit down, and stare up at the crucifix. I tend to get lost in prayer and am oblivious to the people around me. It usually isn’t long before someone comes up to say hello and welcome me home. I usually return the greeting and then turn back to the cross.

This weekend was just one of those weekends where everything seemed to come together. I have never felt more at home than I did this weekend. I am surrounded by friends, family, former co-workers, and some other people that are very special to me. When I am around these people, it is easy for me to see the glory of God. The world is transfigured into a place where I can see the hand of God working in my life. It is all so clear and easy to see. However, it’s not always like that is it?

Like most people, there are times in my life when I question the things that seem so fundamental to my existence. I question what it is that God wants me to do with my life. I question my behavior at times and wonder if I could have handled certain situations better. I have made career changes. I have bought and sold my possessions. I have moved away from friends several times only to be blessed with more relationships while maintaining the old (albeit in a different way). However, there are times when you wonder if you are getting it right. There are times when I question my decisions and wonder if I got it all wrong. Like most of you, I have doubts from time to time. I think anyone who is willing to take off the masks that we wear from time to time and really look at their lives will experience some doubt every now and then.

Despite the doubts from time to time, there are almost always moments of great clarity that come through prayer. Yesterday was one of those times of clarity. As I prayed during communion, I looked around the church and again thought to myself, “It is good to be here.” I was thinking to myself, “How did I end up here? How did this place end up being my home?” You see, I came to College Station twelve and a half years ago to attend college. I had no plans of staying here. I did not have any family here. After college, my friends moved away and got married. I made new friends, started and finished one career, and eventually took steps towards discovering my call to seminary. Objectively it makes no sense why these people that I was watching come forward for communion would become my family. I realized that for me, my home is in the Church. Everything just seemed to make sense in those moments of prayer. I felt at home. Like Peter, I wanted to pitch three tents and stay a while. I wanted to stay on top of that mountain and never come down. And yet, I knew that my stay would be short. While I don’t mean to relate seminary to the cross, to be honest, it can be a cross at times. It can be a cross the same way a job, family issues, financial issues, etc can be a cross in your life. Many times we simply do not want to come down the mountain and face them. However, I have come to learn that it is in those moments of the cross that we are able to show our love for God the most.

I guess the point that I am trying to make is that God is constantly offering us opportunities to be on top of the moment and witness his glory in all its majesty. We have to take the time though to recognize them and to enjoy them. It is the strength and consolation that we get in those moments that allows us to go out and love and serve the Lord in our love and service to our brothers and sisters.

This morning I was given another gift by being able to sit and have breakfast with my best friend and his young daughter. While I miss being able to hang out with him as often as I would like, there is something special about seeing a dad and his daughter spend time with each other. To be honest, I wanted to pitch a few tents again and live in that moment for a while. Any of you who have had children know that there is a limited shelf life though to the happiness and cooperation of an eighteen month old before a nap is needed.

I am sitting here in a coffee shop in College Station relaxing before I meet a friend for lunch. I have a busy couple of days ahead meeting with different people and visiting friends before I move on to Austin for a few days. Next weekend, I will be in Kyle, TX visiting a parish and giving a talk on vocations after communion. I will return Sunday night to seminary close to midnight. So, while it will be time to come down off the mountain soon enough, I think I will just sit here at the top for a while and take in the dazzling white view of the glory of God.

Pax Tecum,

Tom

Out of the Desert...

2009-02-25T15:03:00.000-06:00

This past Saturday, I did something that I rarely ever do. I took a day to myself. I woke up late (around 9:30) after being out late the night before and went to get breakfast by myself. The night before I went to a Barnes and Noble in Southlake, TX and picked up a few books. On this particular trip I picked up Death Comes for the Archbishop by Willa Cather. Now I have read this book in high school and probably still have a copy of it somewhere, but I felt the desire to read it again. I remembered that the imagery in the book and the descriptions of the landscapes were wonderful. I figured it would be a good way to escape for a bit and really dive into a book. So, at breakfast, I sat and drank my coffee and leisurely read my book. I wasn’t in a hurry to do anything in particular.

After breakfast I went to the movie theater and bought tickets for Slumdog Millionaire. I did not have a particular desire to see the movie but heard it was good and did not like the looks of the other movies that were showing. I talked to my nephew, brother-in-law, and sister before going into the movie. A few other friends sent me a text here and there. That was when I decided that if this was really going to be a day to myself I needed to ignore the phone. I made it through most of the movie and enjoyed the story. I thought the movie was predictable but it was entertaining all the same. Unfortunately due to the amount of coffee I drank at breakfast and the large diet coke I treated myself to, I had to run out right after the main character answers the last question on the game show. By the time I returned, the movie was over and the credits were rolling. At first, I was disappointed because I did not find out if the guy got the girl in the end. Then I realized that I did not care. In my mind, the guy ended up with the girl…the love of his life. Who would of thought that I was a romantic huh? I walked out of the movie smiling and was happy with my decision to put the two together (I have since learned the actual ending of the movie).

After the movie I headed over to Holy Family of Nazareth in Irving, TX. A friend of mine is the Director of Youth Ministry there but I knew he was out of town. I sat in the chapel for about two hours praying and reading Death Comes for the Archbishop. It was a fruitful time of prayer and for me. I could not have thought of a better way for me to spend my Saturday afternoon. I was alone with God (i.e. the love of my life). I know it is a little cheesy to hear me say that, but I have come to realize the truth in that statement.

Towards the end of my prayer time, an older (he was not the pastor and I presume he was a retired priest) came in and sat down. He walked with a cane and had some difficulty getting up and down in the chair. As he sat down, he pulled out his rosary and began to pray. I decided that I would pull mine out as well and pray along with him in silence. After about twenty minutes, and with considerable effort, he got up and went to the confessional to hear confessions. I had already planned on going to confession and so I was happy to know that he would be hearing my confession. As I looked at that priest, I realized that I know nothing about him. I don’t know what assignments he has had or how long he has been ordained. I don’t know all the ups and downs of his life, but what I do know is that after many years, he takes the time and considerable effort to spend time with God before doing the work that God has asked him to do. I admired his dedication and his commitment. He was doing what God asked him to do as best as he could do it.

I went to Mass after confession and was happy to be in a parish again. I miss my parish family and I miss going to Mass with families. We have really good liturgy and good music at the seminary but it is always a joy to be at Mass in a parish. After Mass, I went to dinner with some friends and had a great night.

Now I will get to the point of the blog. I apologize for the length but thank you for your patience (for the two of you that read this). As I was reading Death Comes for the Archbishop I was thinking about the stories surrounding the main character, Fr. Latour. Fr. Latour is a French priest who came to America and was made the Bishop of New Mexico just after it became a part of the United States. Bishop Latour’s responsibilities often required him to travel alone on horseback through the rough terrain and desert areas of the New Mexico territory. On one particular trip, Bishop Latour had been without water for some time. His horses were literally dying of thirst beneath him. After everything he had been through and after being obedient to God and doing what God asked him to do, he risked dying for lack of water. Such a death seemed unlikely in a land full of thieves, violent Indians, and other threats to life. Just as the Bishop thought he could not go any further, his horses perked up and began to walk quickly. The Bishop guessed correctly that the horses smelled water.

There in the middle of nowhere lied an oasis. The Bishop found a small town centered around a source of fresh water. In fact, the town was called Hidden Water. The people of the town were so excited to see a priest that they almost did not believe that Bishop Latour was a priest. Bishop Latour spent the next few days witnessing marriages and baptizing children.

This story stuck out to me for several reasons. All of us, as we enter into Lent can relate to the imagery of the desert. We recount the story of the Israelites who were led around the desert for years until they were willing to yield to the will of God and follow his lead. We all know the stories of the desert Fathers who went off to pray, face their temptations, do penance, and more. We know that Jesus Himself went off to distant places to pray. The desert, for many of us, is a time of struggle. It is a time to be stripped of many of the comforts and distractions in life so that we can become more attuned to the voice of God and His will for our lives. While the desert is not always a pleasant place to be, it can be fruitful. The Israelites were eventually delivered to the promise land. Jesus returned from the desert having encountered Satan and remained obedient and faithful to the Father. Prior to that John the Baptist came out of the desert with the message to “Prepare the Way.” Good things come out of the desert.

Like the story in the book, though, God will often provide little oases and sources of life. Now please know that I am not reflecting on my own spiritual condition as it stands now, but I have been in the desert before. Each time that I have been there, I am amazed by the gifts that God has given me. It is only now that I am able to recognize them and even appreciate them. Often times they are something as simple as a kind word from a friend, a card in the mail, a new friendship, or an unmistakable sign of God’s love for me. Like the Hidden Water, they are the source of life that I need to continue my journey. They are the source of strength that I need to continue to do what I believe God asks me to do each day (especially in the little things). They are the source of faith that I need to withstand the blinding sandstorms that not only cause me to lose sight of my path but also can wear me down like a rock in a tumbler. When these hidden sources come, it is good to stop, take some time, do the things that God has created you to do, and then prepare to continue the journey until, one day, at last, we arrive home.

I wish you all a time of spiritual renewal and peace during this Lenten season. Please be assured of my prayers and please continue to pray for me and more importantly my seminarian brothers. I have a busy week and a half to go with three midterms and other tasks but in just ten short days I know that I will be home.

Pax Tecum,
Tom

Who do you say that I am?

2009-02-19T12:45:00.002-06:00

I heard these words in today’s Gospel as Jesus asked Peter about his understanding of the true identity of Jesus Christ. In this particular instance Peter got it right. He hit a home run as he proclaimed, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.” (Mt 16:16). We all know that Peter did not always get it right. I think that is why I like him so much. I can relate to Peter. I think we all can.

In one of my classes we are reading about the early Church Fathers and their teachings. Earlier this week we were discussing the heresy known as Arianism. Arius was a priest who took issue with a homily that was given by his Bishop (even early in my formation I can see how this was not a good idea...), Alexander. Arius believed that there was a time when the Son was not. This means that there was a time when God was not Father. This meant that the Son of God was a creature begotten by the Father. The Son, according to Arius, would be mutabile and therefore susceptible to vice and many other implications that come along with those attributes. Arius was pronounced a heretic and censured by his Bishop. Now, I am by no means a church scholar. Keep in mind that I am a first year seminarian so please don’t think that I speak with any real authority on these matters. I am just sharing some of my thoughts.

I bring up the example of Arius simply to make the point that even after Peter’s confession, the confession of St. Thomas the Apostle, the teachings of the early Church Fathers and Bishops, I think many of us encounter Christ each day and hear him ask, “Who do you say that I am?” This is not meant to say that we each have our own truth about whom Christ is and that the answer is up to us. As the priest put it in his homily this morning, Christ asking this question to Peter was more like administering a mid-term exam in order to gauge the progress of your students.

The answer to this question is for each of us a matter of prayer. I ask you to consider as I will in my own prayer, who is it that I proclaim Christ to be, not only by my thoughts and my words, but by my actions? After all the disciples came to know Christ by watching what he did and listening to what he said. How do I show Christ to others? Do people see Christ in me? Do I see Christ in others (even those I may not particularly like)? Do I really encounter Christ? Do I know him? Do I take the time to know him? Do I introduce my family, co-workers, or children to him?

I think we all have had the experience of people who get the wrong impression of us. They see us in a way that does not always match up with our own self image. They cannot see into our heart. They cannot read our minds. They are only able to know who we are by how we live our lives and by the parts of our lives that we are willing to show them. It then becomes hard to determine whether the true identity is that of our own self image or that which the majority of people see when they encounter us. Do with that what you will and give it some consideration.

On a lighter note, I just wanted to let everyone know that I am still alive and well. My lack of writing has not been a matter of overwhelming responsibilities but more a matter of taking some time to myself while things aren’t so hectic. I hope this finds all of you in good health and good spirits. Please be assured of my prayers for all of you. Please continue to pray for me and my seminarian brothers. We are experiencing a bit of change here at the seminary once again and that is always difficult. I look forward to a relaxing weekend this week and will write again soon. In the meantime, I leave you with this for your consideration:

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
On your own intelligence rely not;
In all your ways be mindful of him,
And he will make straight your paths.” – Proverbs 3:5-6

Pax Tecum,
Tom

Back to the Basics...

2009-02-07T10:55:00.000-06:00

Yes, I am still alive. I finally have a chance to come up for air at least for a few moments. This last week was definitely one of the most challenging weeks I have had in seminary. It was challenging not only physically, but mentally, spiritually, and emotionally as well. Suffice to say that I am still a little tired (seems to be a persistent state for most guys here) but should be able to rest some this weekend.

Speaking of this weekend, we are hosting approximately thirty men ranging in age from seventeen to late thirties who are a part of what is called “Live-In Weekend.” This event allows prospective seminarians to come stay with us for three and a half days to see what life in the seminary is like. In visiting with the guys, I realized that there are a lot of basic things about seminary that people do not know. It was also good for me to realize that this same time last year I was in their shoes. This is about the time of year when I began to apply with my diocese to come to seminary. I hope to offer a more spiritual reflection about that tomorrow, but today want to tell you about some of the basics of seminary.

I am currently studying at Holy Trinity Seminary in Irving, Texas. The seminary is located on the campus of the University of Dallas (UD). We are secluded enough from the campus that the regular students do not often come down “the hill” around the seminary but it is close enough that we can easily walk up “the hill” to our classes. We live, eat, sleep, and pray at the seminary and attend classes with lay students at UD. Our professors are very talented lay people who provide us with a classical Liberal Arts education. A few of our professors are Cistercian Monks from the nearby abbey. We also have the Southern Province Dominican Priory across the parking lot from us.

Holy Trinity is home to twenty-nine seminarians from seven dioceses including Little Rock, Lubbock, Fort Worth, Dallas, Austin, Galveston-Houston (they are quick to remind us they are an Archdiocese…), and Victoria. Holy Trinity is what is a college seminary; meaning that the men studying here are working on a bachelor’s degree in Philosophy and Letters. There are other men, like myself, who have at least a bachelor’s degree and are taking our pre-requisite Philosophy and Theology classes before entering Theology Studies (Major Seminary). I am considered a part of the latter group and we are appropriately called Pre-Theologians or “Pre-Thees” for short. By university standards Pre-Theologians are considered non degree seeking graduate students. The college seminarians take fifteen credit hours each semester while Pre-Theologians take twelve. The younger guys like to point out that they have to take more classes then us. We then remind them that we have put in our time as evident by the degree(s) that hang on our wall.

Last semester I took some basic introductory courses to Theology and Philosophy. The course names were: Understanding the Bible, Philosophy and the Ethical Life, Philosophy of Man, and Elementary Latin I. It was quite the adjustment being back in college. I remember the feeling the first day walking to class with a backpack on my back. I thought to myself, “How in the world did you end up doing this all over again?” I had the same thought during finals week.

This semester seems to be more challenging. The courses are getting tougher and the demands on my time are increasing. I am taking Philosophy of Being (Metaphysics), Medieval Philosophy, Western Theological Traditions (Church History and teachings of the Early Church Fathers through Vatican II), and Elementary Latin II. Latin is not my favorite class but I am doing the best I can and think it is important for me to learn. Primarily, I am hoping that Latin will help me in learning Spanish this summer and the years to come.

A typical day for me means waking up at 5:15AM, showering, and then checking email and a few news websites each day. I look at the local news channel from back home and try to keep up with what is going on there. We begin Lauds (Morning Prayer) in community at 6:30AM followed by Mass. We then go to the Refectory (Dining Hall) for breakfast which for me is usually a bowl of Special K, a piece of wheat toast, and two cups of coffee. Between the hours of 8AM and 3PM we have classes at the University. It is like a typical college in that you are not in the same classes each day and you are not in class the entire time. During the day we also attend meetings like Music Class, Individual Music Instruction, Formation (one on one meeting with an advisor to talk about everything except matters related to Spiritual Direction and Confession), Spiritual Direction, Group Formation and others. At 5:15PM we gather back in the chapel for Vespers (Evening Prayer) followed by thirty minutes of silent meditation. We then go to the Refectory for dinner. Dinner is served family style at tables with groups of eight. Three seminarians serve as waiters for a week at a time and serve the entire meal and clear the tables. The waiters then have their meal once everyone has left. This is an attempt to get us to learn table manners, how to serve, and how to be served. Three other seminarians are also assigned to do dishes once the meal is over. It normally takes about 45 minutes to do the dishes and each of us does it about once a week.

After dinner, we are free to return to our rooms to study. Actually we are free to do whatever we want for the remainder of the evening but are encouraged to spend the time with our studies. It is also a time to wash clothes, iron clothes, call home, do spiritual reading etc. One night a week we also have a Practicum assignment. This year I am teaching RCIA at a local parish here in Irving. It is pleasant and rewarding work but it does put an added demand on our time and makes preparing for Friday Classes difficult.

Every Friday afternoon we have “Work Order.” For two hours the house in divided up into two groups. Half of the group is responsible for cleaning the inside of the seminary including bathrooms, vacuuming common rooms, dusting, cleaning the chapel, etc. The other half goes outside to maintain the grounds immediately surrounding the seminary. We do not have a janitorial staff or a landscaping crew as we do all the work ourselves. The time is meant to teach us how to keep up a house (later a rectory) and to take ownership in our house.

After Work Order we are free for the evening. Most of us guys will go out to eat and maybe see a movie. Saturdays are pretty much free for us to do whatever we need to do. There is a Mass here at the seminary but we are not required to go here. We are allowed to go to the Cistercian Abbey, the Traditional Latin Mass at a parish here in Dallas, or any other local parish. We are not allowed to go more than thirty minutes from the seminary at any time without permission from the Rector. Sunday mornings we gather at 8:30AM for Lauds. This is a formal event as we sing the prayers and are dressed in coat and tie. We then have Mass at 9:15AM and that Mass is open to the public. If you are ever up this way, please consider joining us for Mass. It is always great to see familiar faces. After Mass we have a social with our guests including donuts and coffee. The Seminarians and their guests then retire to the refectory for a formal brunch. After brunch, we are free the rest of the day. Most of the guys take a nap and then study for the rest of the day.

As you can see we do not have a lot of free time. During the fall we will have a Free Weekend once a month where we are allowed to go home or go out of town somewhere else. This semester we do not have any free weekends on the books and we are starting to feel the stress just three weeks in. When we do have free time, we like to play sports, watch television, talk, pray, or exercise. We do have a small weight room that has some basic equipment. The equipment is somewhat old and outdated but it is better than nothing. In fact, I asked the Rector about purchasing an elliptical machine for us to work out with. The Rector said that we just don’t have the money in the budget (I think the high quality ones that last are about 2K but to be honest I have not done any research). Perhaps in the future I will see if there is anyone willing to help out with this. In the meantime, there is a workout facility at the University that we are free to use.

I hope that I have given you a better idea of what life is like at the seminary. I am sure that there are still more questions. Please feel free to submit your questions as comments or email me. I am happy to answer then when time allows. As for now, I am off to Mass, then lunch, then I have dish duty. I humbly ask you to continue to keep me and my brothers in your prayers. We feel the prayers and rely on them often to help us to persevere. I hope to post again tomorrow. Until then, be assured of my prayers for you.

Pax Tecum,
Tom

The Candles Are A-Blaise-ing….at both ends…

2009-02-03T13:52:00.003-06:00

Please forgive me for the play on words, but I am tired and could not think of a better title. Today is the Memorial of St. Blaise, Bishop of Sebastea and Martyr. According to Tradition, when Christians were being persecuted sometime during the fourth century, Bishop Blaise withdrew to the mountains and lived in a cave. The stories surrounding his life tell us that while he was in the cave many wild beasts would come to him. St. Blaise reportedly healed the beasts when they were sick or wounded. Hunters later found St. Blaise, seized him, and took him to the authorities. On the journey they came across a woman who brought a little boy who was near death due to a fishbone caught in his throat. St. Blaise healed the boy’s throat and now we, the faithful, ask St. Blaise to intercede for us when we suffer from illnesses of the throat. Today, those who go to Mass often have their throats blessed with a pair of candles. If your priest is friendly, he will not light the candles before doing this! I had my throat blessed this morning and in addition to fending off illness, I hope that in some way St. Blaise teams up with St. Cecilia to intercede for me as I am the cantor at Mass this Friday. Someone should bless my seminary brothers’ ears as well.

As I said before, I am tired. I don’t just mean the “I didn’t get enough sleep last night” kind of tired. I mean physical, mental, and emotional fatigue. One thing I quickly learned upon entering seminary is that I have limits. I am not Super Man. That was a painful self-realization. This seems to be common sense for each of us, but for me, I never would accept that fact. Before seminary, I thought that if I just put my nose to the ground and worked hard enough I could be all things to all people, never say “No” to a request for help, and get everything done well and done on time. To be honest, I was a bit of a Pelagian (not formally of course) at times in thinking that I did not need the divine grace of God to carry me through my day. Seminary quickly taught me by all of the demands on our time, that one must be careful to set limits and to manage his time well.

In the process, I have learned that there is not enough time in the day to do everything that is asked of us and so we must prioritize and budget our time. Sometimes this means going into a quiz not quite as prepared as you would like to be. Other times it means not going out with your friends to a movie or to dinner. Sometimes it means having a Holy half-hour instead of a full hour everyday. Of course, there are certain things that should never be left out of the day like prayer, Mass, Liturgy of the Hours, etc. I am learning that it is not enough to merely care for the soul and neglect the body. The two are intrinsically linked. As a result, I am trying to eat healthier foods and exercising several times a week. Sleep is another important commodity. Sleeps seems to be the first thing to be cut out of the schedule as I think most of us underestimate the value of a good night’s sleep. We may desire a good night’s sleep but if we valued it appropriately, we would make it a priority.

I learned most of this the first time I went through college and even during my career in law enforcement. Trust me, there are plenty of times where a case, call, etc., will occupy so much of an officer’s time that he does not feel that he has the time to eat right, sleep enough, or exercise. Speaking for myself, I let those things fall by the wayside. In a way it is honorable if you are taking the approach of giving of yourselves to help others, but at the same time St. Thomas Aquinas would tell us, “you cannot give what you don’t have.”

There are many positive things I have learned during my short time in seminary as well. One of these things is a greater appreciation for the line “Give us this day our daily bread,” found in the Lord’s Prayer. I simply must rely on God’s grace to get me through the day. When I started seminary I asked God to help me get through the year, then the semester, then the week, then the day, and finally, today, just get me through the hour. While this week it seems that I am just trying to “get through it,” the goal is for me to “live through it” and live well. By that I mean that I am able to reflect the joy of Christ in my words, my thoughts, and my actions even when things get tough. It is quite the challenge, but one I am admittedly working on. If any of you have any secrets, feel free to share.

I have also learned to find my “daily bread,” in many places. Primarily, my bread is found in daily reception of the Eucharist and in prayer. However, there are other little encouragements that I receive from the Lord from time to time that reignite the spark within. For example, yesterday I received a letter in the mail from a 5th grade RE student at St. Ann’s Catholic Church in Burlington, TX. The letter tells me about his brothers, what he likes to do, the name of his school, etc. The letter then goes on to ask me questions about the things I like. Any police officer will tell you of the feeling of joy that comes over a kid’s eyes when you show him/her your police car and let then turn on the lights and sirens. They look up to you. It is humbling. At the same time, the letter encourages me to be faithful to my formation so that one day, I may serve this fifth grader, his brothers, and his friends as their priest. I don’t know if this is making sense or me just rambling, but it is a reminder to me that there is more to life than what at times seems like a rigorous routine.

Another shot in the arm came this morning when I had the privilege of serving a Mass at the Medical Morals Conference which is being held here in Las Colinas. There were over one hundred and forty bishops in the room including five cardinals. Being in a room with those men is simply inspiring (even at 7:30 in the morning). It was exciting to see some of the Bishops and Cardinals that you are used to seeing on television or in the papers (for good reasons). However, nothing was more inspiring and put a bigger smile on my face than seeing my own Bishop, Most Rev. Gregory Aymond. He does not read this blog so I cannot be accused of trying to gain favor. I just want folks to know how fortunate we are to have him as our shepherd.

Well, I must leave this entry as it is. I am not going to post again until the weekend as we have a hectic week. In addition to serving extra Masses, I am teaching RCIA at a local parish Thursday night, preparing to cant at Mass on Friday, studying, and hosting 29 young men who are attending Live-In Weekend at the seminary this weekend. I have a lot to do, but at least for right now, I am off to music class and am then taking a much needed nap!

Ora pro nobis,
Tom

PS. Please keep a special intention in your prayers for the next couple of days.

“…a light to reveal you to the nations and the glory of your people Israel.”

2009-02-01T20:06:00.002-06:00

I have a bit of a confession to make. I am sure that none of you will relate to this, but I will tell you about it anyway. I am not all that interested in the Super Bowl. I do not follow football as much as I used to and frankly I have a lot of work to do to get ready for the week ahead. Despite my lack of interest in the game, for some reason I went through a process of preparing myself to watch it.

About 3:30 PM I walked downstairs to the room where we had set up a big screen television, surround sound, couches, food, drinks, and all the essentials. Some of the guys were working hard at making food for us to enjoy. We were having technical difficulties with our satellite and were not receiving any of the local channels. Two of our seminarians who are technology geniuses were able to use a ‘sling box’ from one of their homes in Houston, his laptop, and a 100 foot cord strung from the computer lab to project the image on our big screen television. The picture wasn’t perfect, but we would be able to watch the game. As I watched the two tech guys work, I realized that they were speaking a language I did not understand. Now I am not old at all but I sure felt it when I did not even realize that a laptop could be used in this manner. I thought maybe the Holy Spirit had descended and they were speaking in tongues. Then I quickly panicked thinking that if they were speaking in tongues, I should have been given the grace to understand them. I decided instead they were speaking techno Babel [sic] and felt better about myself (tongue in cheek).

Seeing that the preparations were in good hands I went back to my room to study for a while before the game started. However, I made sure to get downstairs in plenty of time to get a front row seat. I was the first one in the room and had a perfect seat. Then I was reminded of another scripture verse. You know, the one where it says not to take the seat of honor in case a guest more important than you should arrive and you want to be spared the embarrassment of moving. Well, about midway through the second quarter I look up and see His Eminence Daniel Cardinal DiNardo walk into the room. His Eminence was in town for the NEA Conference and decided to come watch the game with us. He is obviously a Steelers fan. Out of respect we stood as he entered the room. He graciously shook all of our hands before taking my...I mean…his seat. I smiled to myself and walked to the back of the room to sit down for the remaining of the half.

At halftime, I decided that I would go to the chapel and pray Evening Prayer. When I finished I was reflecting on my day and quickly felt a little embarrassed. I realized that I spent more time and energy preparing myself for school and the Super Bowl than I did for Mass this morning. I realized that I rushed through my morning prayers in order to get to the chapel on time. I did not read the readings ahead of time. I did not do the things I would normally do to prepare myself. To me it was a gentle reminder that my priorities needed to be adjusted and that I should spend more time preparing not only for Mass but living out my day according to the Gospel.

Tomorrow we celebrate the Feast of the Presentation of Our Lord. The morning will start with the blessing of the candles and a procession into the chapel. The Feast commemorates forty days after the birth of Christ when, according to Jewish law, Mary and Joseph presented Jesus in the Temple. As the child Jesus was presented to the elderly priest, Simeon, he said aloud:

“Lord, now let your servant go in peace;
your word has been fulfilled:
my own eyes have seen the salvation
which you have prepared in the sight of every people:
a light to reveal you to the nations
and the glory of your people Israel.”

This prayer is prayed every night as a part of Night Prayer. The procession of candles is meant to symbolize how our lives as Christians should give light to the lives of others. While Christ is the true Light of the world, we are each called to bring that light into a world full of darkness. For me, I am going to try to focus this week on taking the light to others by the manner in which I live my life. I do not have anything extraordinary planned. I just hope to be faithful in the little things.

We have a busy week this week. I will try to post sometime this week to give you an idea of what our schedule is like. After being home over Christmas, I realize that not everyone is familiar with how seminary life goes in terms of schedules, classes, activities, etc. I will try to post some of that later on.

Until then, from the words of one of my favorite Catholic artists, “Shine like the Sun [or Son if you please]”

Pax Tecum,
Tom

“The dawn from on high shall break upon us…”

2009-01-31T12:39:00.000-06:00

This morning was just one of those mornings where everything seems to go right. I started off the morning in the chapel at Holy Trinity Seminary at 6:30am. Three of my brother seminarians and I gathered together to pray morning prayer together before heading out to serve Mass at a conference that was being held at a local hotel.

For those of you familiar with the Liturgy of the Hours, part of Morning Prayer involves praying the Gospel Canticle or what is commonly referred to as the Canticle of Zechariah. The last stanza says the following:

In the tender compassion of our God
The dawn from on high shall break upon us,
To shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death,
And to guide our feet into the way of peace.

I have always loved these words as I think it paints a beautiful image for the rest of the day. All of us have been or are in darkness at one time another. Some days, the dawn is brighter than others. For me, there are some days where the hand of God and the love of God is so apparent and obvious that it is almost blinding.

As we pulled out of the seminary I was looking East towards the Dallas skyline. Normally I am not that taken aback by the view but this morning the sky was bright red and orange as the sun was just about to rise. I thought to myself, “the dawn from on high shall break upon us.” I smiled to myself and thanked God for the view.

My brothers and I arrived at the Omni Mandalay in Las Colinas just before 7AM and began to set up for Mass. The conference was for the National Evangelization Conference which is “an Episcopal and lay initiative that emerged from the deliberations of the Special Assembly of the Synod of American Bishops held in 1997.” Bishops from the U.S. and many South American countries gather every two years to discuss ways to use the media to help in the evangelization of the Americas.

As we were vesting for Mass we were a little intimidated by the many Bishops and Cardinal that were in the room with us. The Bishops all seemed to gather in these little huddles of two and were no doubt discussing the most serious of Church matters (tongue in cheek). I recognized a few of the faces in the room. I recognized the Bishop of Nashville, the Bishop of Dallas, and Bishop Pat Zurek from Amarillo. As I was taking in the sight, an elderly priest (who is still quite energetic) walked past me. I thought that he looked strangely familiar. I leaned over to two of my brothers and told them, “I think that is Fr. Tom. It looks a lot like him, but I am not sure that he would be at this conference.”

A few minutes later, the priest came back and stood next to me and began to talk to me for the next ten minutes or so. I said to him, “Please excuse me Father but I did not catch your name.” He put out his hand and said, “I’m Father Tom Forrest.” I smiled like a kid who had just met a comic book hero or a celebrity and said, “I thought that was you.” He looked at me with raised eyebrows and then I told him that I had the privilege of hearing him speak at the Youth Arise International Festival in Brisbane, Australia. He lit up and said, “Don’t you just love the youth.” I told him, “Yes Father. Yes I do.” Here is a picture of him and the link to a blog entry that I wrote while in Australia:

http://sta2wyd08.blogspot.com/2008/07/jesus-is-in-our-midst.html

By that time we were ready to begin and since I had the processional cross I quickly realized that all eyes were on me to get moving!

The main celebrant of the Mass was His Eminence Oscar Cardinal Rodriguez Maradiaga, S.D.B. who is the Cardinal Archbishop in Honduras. For those who don’t recognize the name, the word is he is one of six Cardinals to receive a significant amount of votes in the last conclave. Of course there is no way for us to know for sure since those matters are kept secret. The Cardinal gave a wonderful homily and his passion really shines through. After Mass as we were headed back to the vesting room, I heard several Bishops mention how he would make a wonderful Pope. The good news is he is very young at 66 years of age. I must admit, it would be pretty cool to have served with a Cardinal who later became Pope. It was a great opportunity all the same.

The entire morning just seemed to be a gift from God. Any time we are able to experience how universal our faith is and to see in real ways how God draws us all back to Himself through the unity of the Church, it is a great gift. We have a busy rest of the day. Tomorrow we should have a special guest watching the Super Bowl with us. I will talk more on that later. Until then, I better get started on my studying. Latin is calling my name.

Ora pro nobis,
Tom

Administrative Note: I hope to update this at least once a week but please be patient with me. While I am flattered that people are interested in sharing my journey in seminary, my primary obligation is to be faithful to my formation. Please know that each of you are in my prayers.

UPDATE: I just got back from a dinner at the New Evangelization Conference. What an experience! I sat at a table with two of our Bishops from Texas. They were both amazing men and were very gracious. I also ran into Bishop Pat Zurek and he sends his love to the people of St. Thomas Aquinas in College Station. One of the speakers tonight was Eduardo Verastegui from the movie Bella. He was sharing his conversion story with us and he said, "It is not for us to condemn the darkness in Hollywood, instead we must be a light that shines on that darkness and brings it into the light." I thought it fit well for what I thought the theme for the day was. Also, just a quick teaser...watch for the movie Kingdom Come in December of 2010. It will be amazing!

This is me...

2007-08-28T23:41:00.001-05:00

Most of the posts on here have stemmed from various connections that I have made between the everyday parts of life and scripture. I often speak in metaphors and clichés to illustrate a point that was made for me. Tonight is different. Tonight, I am going to take a risk. Tonight I am just going to tell you about me. I am going to tell you what is going on in my life and how it makes me feel. More than likely it will not apply to your situation in life and it may not provide any great inspiration, but I feel the need to share it. There are some who will read this who I have no problem being vulnerable in front of and others who will simply laugh and call me weak. All I can say is that I am human and this is me:

I took off work today from my job at the police department (for some reason I think that is the first time where I have actually said where I work) and worked at my new job with the church. I had several meetings throughout the day and began to list all of the many things I wanted to accomplish in my new position. I realized that some of them will be accomplished with ease while others would require quite a bit of assistance. Overall, I was excited about the possibilities and looking forward to my new job. I looked forward to the opportunity to serve God through serving others on a full time basis.

I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about my feelings as I make the transition from one job to the other. The transition has been anything but easy. When I learned that I had been offered the position at the church, I was filled with joy. I have known for some time now that my heart was not in my job as a police officer anymore. For various reasons, I grew away from that job and there were parts of it that were difficult to cope with. I realized that the job was changing who I was. I was becoming a person I did not respect. I was becoming a person that I could not live with. I certainly was not showing Christ to others by the way I lived. I did not set an example as a man of integrity, virtue, patience, and respect. I lost my cool numerous times, I pointed out the faults in others, I disrespected my supervisors (albeit sometimes they were flat out wrong in their actions), and I had stopped smiling at work. The job had become the onion to my Crème Brulee (see previous post).

I do not blame the job. I do not hold any resentment towards anyone at the job. I treasure my time at the police department. I value the relationships that I have made. There are people at that department that started the same day I did and I thought I would be there when they finished. I have family at the department. Being a cop is not a job that you do, it is who you are, a part of you at least. Part of me wishes that my heart had not changed and that I could still be happy in doing the job. Part of me wishes that the circumstances of my life had not changed.

I was working the hospital in uniform this past weekend for the last time. I got really sad. When I am in uniform I feel like a cop the most. I remembered all of the good times that I had a few years ago when I was working a beat on patrol alongside my best friend. I remember the fights we got into with bad guys. I remember the bad guys we took off the streets. I remember riding down the street in my best friend’s jeep at three in the morning listening to Windfall by Son Volt on the radio as we headed to the police department to do the arrest reports for two coin machine burglars that we had just caught while off duty at his apartment. I remember the time the two of us got locked into a pool at an apartment complex and debated as to whether we would call for help or climb the tall iron fence with points at the top of it and risk goring ourselves. I realized then that I still love police work. Then I realized that those were times that I left behind two years ago and not things that I was walking away from this week.

Tonight I had dinner with the friend and his wife. The two of them are about to have their first child in a few weeks. My friend and I talked about where we had been, what we had done, where we are now, and where we may be going in life. I realized then that he is no longer the same person as he was during those times mentioned above. The circumstances of his life have changed dramatically and he has changed along with them for the better. I can only hope that I adjust as well as he has. It has been fun watching him on his journey through life the past few years.

I realized tonight that it is okay to feel sad about leaving the department. It does not mean I made a mistake in doing so. I firmly believe that God is calling me in a different direction and I am doing my best to align my will with His. Even though the separation is painful, I feel I must go. I hope the people at the department understand. I hope they know that I am leaving what is comfortable, financially secure, and familiar in search of who it is that God wants me to be. In a lot of ways I am leaving my family for the past seven years. Just like any cop, I tend to want to plan my approach in life and gain as much intel as I can before I act. This time I am going in on faith alone.

As for the people at the church, I hope they realize that it is not easy to leave this career behind. The people I work with at the police department are some of the most dedicated servants in this community. Each one of us is flawed in some way but the truth of the matter is, the police officers lay their lives down on the line for their friends everyday and man hath no greater love.

I realize now that the past year is not something to regret or to run away from in a bitter manner. This past year God has worked me over with a coarse grain of sandpaper and has shaped me into a better person. At times he used a pick axe and it hurt quite a bit, but I like what He has done. I am excited about the work He has left to do. I realize now that some of the events of this past year were the road signs that I talked about in the Joy of the Journey post. I think it just took me up until now to have enough courage to turn when God said turn.

So bear with me as I go through these next few days of transition. They will not be easy. Saying goodbye is always hard. I feel like I have already had to do it too many times, but I know there will be more. I ask for your support. I ask for your patience and I ask for your prayers. After all, this is me….

Pax Tecum,

Tom

There are no onions in Creme Brulee....EVER!!!

2007-08-26T23:15:00.000-05:00

I know that this probably is and probably will be the strangest title of one of my blogs. However, it is somewhat of an inside joke that I am willing to share in an attempt to demonstrate a connection that was made for me.

Today I was driving back from Hutto, TX where I had the distinct privilege of watching my youngest nephew get baptized. My brother and his wife asked me to be the godfather and I happily accepted. I now have four beautiful godsons. One more and I will have a basketball team. Anyway, I realized today that I do some of my deeper thinking while I am driving. Maybe deep is the wrong word. Perhaps I am just stretching my mind outside of its normal course of thought.

Last Sunday night, a group of friends and I went to a very nice restaurant in College Station to celebrate a friend’s birthday. This restaurant is a pretty classy place. In fact, you walk in and almost forget where you are. It was the type of restaurant where you order each course individually and hopefully pair it with the right wine or cocktail. If you are like me, you swallow your pride, admit your ignorance, and ask the sommelier to choose the wine for you.

The food was excellent, albeit a little pricy. The meal as a whole appears slightly pretentious or gluttonous at first. However, you quickly realize that you are paying not only for the food, but for the total dining experience. This includes being surrounded by close friends, enjoying each other’s company, and experiencing great service. Each course came out of the kitchen better than the one before it. That is, until we came to dessert.

Three people at the table ordered Crème Brulee. One of the people at the table noticed that there was something wrong with the way his Crème Brulee tasted. He asked the person sitting next to him if her Crème Brulee tasted alright. They both eventually came to the conclusion that the dessert tasted like onions. We looked over at the third person who ordered the same dessert and he was eating it with a smile on his face obviously enjoying his selection of treats. When my friend told me about the onion taste I thought he was crazy. He asked me to try the dessert and sure enough, there was a strong onion flavor. Two of the desserts were quickly sent back to the kitchen.

We have all been to a restaurant where something has arrived at our table only to discover that it was not properly cooked. Sometimes our steak is a little too well done or our food is cold and was not allowed to cook long enough. At other times, our order shows up and we are missing a side order or they forgot to substitute an item at our request. We have come to expect this sort of service at a drive thru, but certainly not at a nice restaurant where we pay a high price for our meal.

The waiter returned to our table and apologized for the incident. Apparently the chef inadvertently placed the dessert into a cooler that also contained some onions. The onions were so powerful that their odor and flavor infused itself into the Crème Brulee due to their proximity. The chef did not realize the onions were present or perhaps he would have perceived this undesired reaction and the whole situation would have been avoided. Suffice to say, the chef replaced the desserts and the rest of the meal was enjoyed immensely.

So, today, as I drove in my car, I began to meditate on the whole scenario. Here we have Crème Brulee, a dessert that I am sure is difficult to make. I do not know what all goes into making Crème Brulee but if it was simple they probably would not use the fancy French words when they put it on a menu. It was a costly dessert and I am sure the Chef took some pride in his version of it. However, the potency of the onion totally ruined his creation. Don’t get me wrong, I like onions and they certainly have their purpose, especially when they are slightly caramelized and placed over a nice steak. However, in this situation, the onion, doing nothing more than being what it was created to be, ruined the carefully prepared dessert. No one intended for the onion to be in the Crème Brulee and no one even anticipated the effect it might have just by being close.

Where am I going with this, you ask? Each one of us is created in the image and likeness of God. God takes great care in creating each and every one of us. God does not make mistakes in his creation. God did not make a mistake when He created the blind, the deaf, the lame, the leper, the child with a developmental disorder, etc. Each person is created with a purpose even though at times it may not be immediately apparent to us.

Like the Crème Brulee, each one of us consists of many ingredients that are put together in such a fashion that we have the potential to remain a wonderful creation. However, based on our environment and those who we keep close to us, the creation can be tarnished. We surround ourselves with the onions of our world everyday. These onions are things that may not be inherently bad, however, they have a negative effect on us and God did not intend them for the manner in which they are being used. Most of the time, we do not even perceive the effect they are having on us. However, the effect is strong and makes us something so undesirable that it runs the risk of being sent back. If left uncorrected and un-repaired, it certainly would not make it back to the table.

I wonder what God must say when we show Him what we have done with His creation. Today’s gospel and the words of our Lord perhaps give us some insight to what might be said, “Strive to enter through the narrow gate, for many, I tell you, will attempt to enter
but will not be strong enough. After the master of the house has arisen and locked the door, then will you stand outside knocking and saying, ‘Lord, open the door for us.’
He will say to you in reply, ‘I do not know where you are from. And you will say, ‘We ate and drank in your company and you taught in our streets.’ Then he will say to you,
‘I do not know where you are from. Depart from me, all you evildoers!’”

We run the risk of allowing ourselves to become something so tarnished, something so far from what we were created to be, that God does not even recognize us. Perhaps God will realize that we were surrounded by too many onions in this world and did nothing about it. Perhaps God will realize that we were too hot or too cold. We have heard in Rev 3:16 “So, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew you out of my mouth.” These are strong words indeed, but should we expect anything less? After all, think of the price God paid for each and every one of us. Each of us was purchased with the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ. That is a price that none of us could even begin to pay.

When I think about it in those terms, I take another look around the table of friends that were sitting with me. I thank God for each and every one of them because they are certainly not the onions in my life. In fact, they are the ones who inspire me to try to live my life as God created me to be.

However, each day we should ask ourselves, “What are we going to do with God’s creation and will it be fit for service at His table?”

Pax Tecum,

Tom

God is a friend of mine...literally!!

2007-08-17T22:45:00.000-05:00

In reading the Bible, especially the Old Testament, we hear stories of the great prophets to whom God spoke directly and revealed His faith. We have heard the stories of the holy saints to whom Our Lady or Our Lord Jesus Christ has appeared. I do not doubt any of these occurrences, but there have been times in my life when I wondered if God ever spoke to me. I did not think that I could hear His voice. At times, I certainly could not see Him in my life and there were even times when I could not see Him in others.

After the death of my brother, I begged God to speak to me. I wanted to hear that booming voice in the clouds. If only God would tell me what He wanted me to do with my life, I would do as I was told. I wanted to be faithful. I thought that if I did everything right and according to His Word, my life would straighten out. I kept looking for that certified letter from God in the mail telling me what to do. The letter never came. I did not get a phone call. I did not get an email from Him. I certainly did not feel like my prayer to Him was “working.”

August 26, 2006, at approximately three in the morning, I got a page on my work pager that would change my life and the lives of several others. I was called out as the on-call investigator for a train accident. I will not go into the details of the accident out of respect for those involved, but I will say that it was one of the most difficult and heart wrenching things I have ever seen. I had the unfortunate task of listening to the friends of the young man who was killed in the accident as they recounted the accident. I had the responsibility of notifying the young man’s family. The circumstances in which the parents were notified were less than ideal and I did not feel good about it, but it was the best I could do. Having made that type of call many years before when my father passed and having received the call just three months prior after my brother was killed in an accident, I did not want to tell a father that his son was not coming home.

Slowly the accident and other events in my life were eating away at me from the inside out. I was not dealing with them well and I gradually started to break down. On Sunday, September 3^rd I went to mass. I struggled through most of mass and was hurting. I walked out of mass and my priest could see it on my face as he asked, “Are you okay?” I told him the truth and I said, “No.” He asked if I wanted to talk and I said, “No offense Father, but not with you. I need to talk to Him,” and I pointed to the adoration chapel. I went into the chapel, hit my knees, and begged God to carry my cross for me. I asked Him to ease the pain and to let me know that everything would be okay. I left the chapel feeling as though God must not have heard me because I certainly could not hear Him.

The next day was Labor Day and I was off of work. I was sitting on the couch when my cell phone rang. I did not recognize the number on the caller ID. I listened to the voicemail later and it was the father of the young man who was killed in the train accident. Just over one week ago, his son was killed in an accident, and yet, he took the time to call me and thank me for what I had done. He thanked me for dealing with the situation in a compassionate and professional manner. I could not believe that a man in his situation would even give a person like me, a near stranger, a second thought. It was at that moment that I realized I heard God’s voice. I cried when I realized that God was answering my prayer through a person I had never met face to face. I had heard God’s voice and it renewed my faith that I thought had been all but lost.

Throughout the last year of my life, there has been one constant source of encouragement. After my brother’s death I learned that his favorite verse in scripture was Romans 8:28:

“We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.”

As I went through the struggles of this past year I would constantly remind myself of this verse. Gradually, I came to believe in the verse which is definitively different than being able to recite it. At some point, I started passing the verse on to others when they were worried or anxious about the future.

As the year went on and the first anniversary of my brother’s death came and went, I began to face fewer and fewer struggles and difficult times. The good times and grace filled moments began to outnumber the difficult times. I began to be happy again. I had found joy in the simplest parts of life. My prayer life took on a life of its own and God did many wonderful things in my heart. There are a few people, some who are reading this now, that were with me along the journey and I thank them for their encouragement and love.

This past week I was blessed more than I could ever deserve. I was offered a full time position in service to my church. When I was first approached with the opportunity, I quickly dismissed it and thought it to be impossible. I rejected the idea. Slowly I realized that it was God calling me to service and I did not have a good reason for saying, “no.” I accepted the position and will start my new job soon. Despite the amazing opportunity I did have some angst, worry, and uncertainty about my future. In my prayer I asked God if I was doing the right thing. I told Him that I trusted in Him and would work hard at being faithful to Him. I was not waiting for an answer nor was I really expecting one.

This morning, after being out of the office for a brief time, I returned to my desk and saw an email from a guy who used to be a co-worker of mine. This co-worker left our place of work to take another job in Houston, TX. He sent me an email to tell me that he heard I was leaving my job to work for my church. He told me that he was excited that I was following God’s call in my life. He then went on to ask me if I knew what was in store for my future and then went on to say the following:

“Whatever it is, this scripture came to mind from Romans 8: And we know that in all things God works for good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

My eyes welled up with tears and I ran to show a few of my friends the email. I had never told this friend of mine what Romans 8:28 meant to me. I had not told too many people my new found appreciation for the verse. This person in particular had no other reason to pass that verse on to me other than giving way to God’s voice. Was it a coincidence? I think not. Was it God’s providence? You cannot convince me otherwise.

If ever you cannot hear God’s voice, if ever you doubt that He answers our prayers, just listen to what it is that others are saying to you. God waits for those moments when we take our hands off our ears and listen to His gentle whispers that go straight to our hearts from the mouths of our friends.

It wasn't just my ears that God had fixed so that I could hear Him. After putting a little mud in my eyes, He cured my blindness and allowed me to see Him in those around me. As I sat at dinner tonight with a group of friends that I have grown to love, I realized that God does not always need to send an email or pick up a phone to tell us that He loves us. As I looked around the table, it was the little things that reminded me of God’s love. The love of a husband for his wife of many years, the concern of a woman who makes God and service to her church a priority, the loving heart of a priest and a deacon who take time out of their busy schedules to be with their people, and the laughter and fellowship of a friend who has been there every step of the way this past year, were all I needed to remember that God is love and He is present in those closest to me.

I thank God for the ability to not only hear His voice as He speaks to me, but the ability to see His face in those sitting around the table with me. After much reflection, I have come to a fairly significant conclusion: God is a friend of mine….literally!

Deus Caritas Est,

Tom

The Joy of the Journey

2007-08-15T21:57:00.000-05:00

I remember as a child, whenever my family would prepare to go on a family vacation, my mother would clean the house from top to bottom. I always asked mom why she made such a fuss about the house being clean when no one was even going to be there to see it. At first I thought that maybe it was because she wanted one less thing to worry about when she got back. I think another part of it was, that if something happened to us, God forbid, a relative would not come in to find our house in disarray.

As I got older and able to drive, I realized that I loved to take road trips in my car. I would always make sure that the oil had been changed recently, the gas tank was full, my course was carefully mapped out so as to make perfect time, and the right CD’s were selected and just an arm’s reach away. I was very methodical and planned for almost every occasion.

Just a few weeks ago I took a trip to visit a friend of mine who lives in Banquete, TX. The drive is approximately four and a half hours. As I was leaving College Station, I was focused on taking the right roads and making good time. I had never been to Banquete so I was worried about whether I would be able to find my way. A friend of mine told me about one of the old painted Catholic churches that is located in High Hill near Schulenburg, TX. I was told that I had to stop and visit to see the beauty of the church. As I drove through Schulenburg I looked desperately for the sign that told me where to turn to go to High Hill. For one reason or another, I missed the sign telling me where to turn. I realized that I was excited about my time in Banquete. I was focusing on the things that I was going to do and the conversations that I was going to have. I was focused on my destination.

I had a wonderful time in Banquete. I drove back to College Station completely relaxed and ready to face the challenges that awaited me when I returned home. I noticed things along the drive that I had not noticed the first time. As I passed through Schulenburg, my attention was directed towards a sign on the side of the road. Lo and behold, there was a sign for St. Mary’s Church in High Hill. I applied the brakes a little too rapidly for the current conditions and did not take into account the swiftness of the oncoming traffic but by God’s grace alone, I made the turn without injury.

I was rewarded for my faithfulness in following the sign. I do not think that my words will adequately express the beauty of this church. I fully expected to find the church locked up tight at 6:30pm on a Sunday night, but I found the front doors open. I walked into the Church and I felt my breath taken from me instantly. The beauty was overwhelming. I walked up towards the front of the church and cautiously took my place in a pew. I began to recite Evening Prayer which is something I was recently taught how to do. I was looking up at a statue of Mary which is at one of the highest points above the altar. As I began to pray the Magnificat, I experienced a feeling that I had not felt before. It felt similar to the feeling when you get a chill or find yourself getting goose bumps, however, it lasted the entire time I prayed our Blessed Mother’s prayer. I was struck dumb and filled with joy at the same time. I got up and left the church and drove the next fifty miles with the widest eyes you have ever seen. It was truly a wonderful and grace filled moment.

After reading all of that you are probably wondering what my point in telling the story is. By now, if you have been reading my blog you will know that while the following point I have to make is simple and easy to grasp, it will take many words to convey it.

Life is a journey. This is a metaphor that we have all heard and sometimes take for granted. Hopefully, all of us have the goal of being faithful to God and obtaining eternal salvation in Heaven. The destination for all of us is clearly defined. However, there are many different routes that we can take and sometimes the routes we plan do not always work out.

Knowing that we are about to embark on a journey, we prepare ourselves. We educate ourselves in our faith. We learn many lessons in life that allow us to obtain the physical goods necessary for the journey. We try to maintain good health. We want to make sure that our bodies will stand up to the rigors of the journey we call life. However, at times, we spend so much time in preparation that we lose sight of the journey itself. In today’s times many of us have said that we are too busy to get more involved in church. We are too busy to spend quality time with our family. We are too busy to take a vacation, too busy to get a good night’s sleep, to read the Bible, or too busy to exercise. We are so busy planning for the journey of life and making sure that we have the physical objects we think we need as sustenance that we get hypnotized by the road ahead and miss what we are passing by.

Once we do finally embark on the journey, some of us are too focused on the destination to enjoy the path we take. That or we are so convinced that we know the path we need to take, that when a detour is put in our path, we completely give up and lose our way. Sometimes despite the warning signs of fatigue, illness, depression, or physical pain we continue on our path instead of listening to the signs that tell us to take a different direction. We know the path that we are on is not good for us but we put our nose to the ground and push forward. We do this because we believe that we know the way and if we try hard enough we can get where we are going without asking directions. When things are bad we push forward because we believe that there is something greater and better waiting for us once we finally reach our destination.

The journey need not be overly difficult. God does not expect us to know everything that lays ahead of us on the road to salvation. Our Lord Jesus does not expect us to know the way that is why He tells us, “Come, follow me.” He is the way, the truth, and the life.

God does not ask us to plan for five days from now, five years for now, or even fifty years from now. God does not want us to live for the future. He wants us to live for today. How many times have you told yourself, if only I can get through tomorrow things will get better. Eventually you tell yourself, if only I can get through next week or next month, everything will be better. In the process of waiting for something better we miss what we already have. A good and very holy priest recently said in a homily, “we should not pray for the things that we want, we should pray that we want the things that we already have.” God does not want us to live for the future. He wants us to live for today.

Occasionally when we are headed down the wrong path in life, God will let us know. Like the good Father, or the gentle shepherd, He will seek us out and guide us back to the flock. Sometimes the roadblock is a gentle suggestion of conscience to change our path. Other times, the road in front of us completely disappears until we decide to turn to God and ask Him to show us the way.

What about the destination? Are any of us sure where we are truly headed? Is the love and glory of God our Father something distant and far off? Four weeks ago we heard the answer from the book of Deuteronomy, “This commandment that I command you is not too hard for you; neither is it far off. It is not in heaven that you should say, ‘Who will go up for us to heaven, and bring it to us, that we may hear it and do it?’ Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, ‘Who will go over the sea for us, and bring it to us, that we may hear and do it?’ But the word is very near you; it is in your mouth and in your heart, that you can do it”

Knowing that, we need not look for God in far off places. He is in our heart. We have Him now. We need not worry about where we are going so long as God is in our hearts and leading the way.

In my own life I have learned that God sometimes leads you in a direction that you never think you would have gone on your own. In fact, sometimes He leads you down a road that you do not think your are equipped to deal with or qualified for, but in the end, you realize that by doing your best to be faithful to Him and paying attention to the direction in which He leads you, you finally start to notice the beauty of the journey itself.

So, my advice to everyone including myself is to slow down, turn off the radio of life, roll down the windows, take in the fresh air, and enjoy the ride with God at your side and let Him lead the way.

Pax Tecum,

Tom

"Mary has chosen the better part..."

2007-07-23T21:22:00.000-05:00

This past weekend I had the privilege of taking thirteen members of our youth group to the Zion Retreat. The retreat was held at St. Thomas More Parish in Austin, TX. It was an amazing weekend and I really enjoyed myself. The following is a brief excerpt from my prayer journal that I wanted to share with you:

“I am at St. Thomas More Parish in Austin for the Zion trip. I am here with thirteen of our wonderful kids from STAY (St. Thomas Aquinas Youth). The kids are in their small groups right now so I have some free time.

I wish that I was able to write down every thought or movement of the heart. I have had some great prayer experiences this weekend. Last night the kids were working on something in the parish hall. It was fairly quiet and they were playing some soft music. I was talking to Betsy (one of the other CORE team members) and we both got quiet. I felt a strong urge to take my rosary out and pray so I did. Since it was Friday I prayed the Sorrowful Mysteries. However, this was the first time that I prayed the rosary by myself without my prayer books. I don’t know that I did it perfect, but I definitely did it with a pure heart. It was a profound moment for me for two reasons.

The first reason is that I realized how much progress I have made, by the power of the Holy Spirit, over the course of the last year in terms of my prayer life. Last year I could not really say the rosary with a prayer book much less spontaneously. I was focused during the prayer and I was praying because I wanted to and not because I needed to or felt obligated to.

The second reason is that I realized that I was in the middle of a crowded room praying. I am typically a private person and tend to not let very many people see who I truly am. Even those who feel they are the closest to me don’t always get to see the real me. However, as I was praying, I felt as if no one else was in the room. It was a conversation between me and God. Also, I did not care if anyone saw me and I wasn’t doing it so that they would. My heart was just moved very strongly to stop and pray.

Another interesting point about this particular rosary was that I was not praying for myself. I have always prayed for others but typically in the past, when I have been moved to pray it was because I needed God’s help. I was praying intently for the spiritual growth of all of the teens in the room. I was also praying for a particular teen who could not come on the retreat. When I finished I put the rosary back in my pocket. I looked around the room and nothing had changed. It was as if time had stopped while I was praying. It was a great experience.

This morning I got to enjoy an ice cold shower in the shower trailer. It was a little bit painful but I was thankful for the opportunity to be clean. We had quite a bit of free time this morning while the kids were doing other things, including confession. I took the opportunity to go to a little grotto area that they have here at the church. There is a statue of there of the Blessed Virgin Mary and some benches there. I sat and fed the mosquitoes while I prayed the rosary. Again, I prayed for one of the teens who could not make the trip. When I was done, I realized that both the mosquitoes and I were very hungry. God fed both of us during that rosary.

I then walked the Stations of the Cross that they have in a wooded area here. It was a nice morning and a good walk. I am not sure that I can articulate what I was feeling at the time. All I know is that for the first time in a long time, I knew that I was not making that walk alone.

After the walk, I went back to the parish hall where they were doing some praise and worship. Anyone who knows me knows that I am a horrible singer. However, I did not care. I sang because I was singing to God and He thinks I sound great. I closed my eyes, opened my hands, and poured my heart out to the Lord. The funny thing is, it felt right. I did not feel awkward and I was not self-conscious. The Holy Spirit was working within me. I did not want it to end.

So, sitting here now several hours later, I have to ask myself, “Why is it so easy on a retreat to be in tune with the Holy Spirit and not at home?” The answer, at least for me, is the environment. While on a retreat, I am free from the many distractions that exist in our lives. I am free from most temptations to sin. I am surrounded by other people who have freely chosen to take off their masks and be who they really are. I am with people who have freely chosen to put God first, others second, and themselves third.

The challenge then is how to be the same in the secular world as I am on the retreat. It is no small challenge.”

So, maybe that entry was not so brief but it helps me with my next point. The Gospel reading this week was the story of Martha and Mary. Jesus comes to visit the house of Martha and Mary. Mary (not his mother) chooses to sit at the feet of Jesus and listen to his teachings. Martha, on the other hand, is scurrying about the house cleaning, cooking, and trying to make sure everything is perfect for the guests. Martha becomes upset with her sister for not helping and asks Jesus to tell Mary to help her.

Sometimes in life we need to stop what we are doing and sit at the feet of the Lord. For me, the gospel was lived out while on a retreat in Austin. Once I slowed myself down and freed myself from the weight of anxiety and stress, I was able to hear God speak to me. I was able to spend time with Him and feel His presence. Had I not sat down like Mary, surely I would have missed what He had to say.

And so now I say Amen even louder as I hear Jesus’ words to Martha:

“Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things. There is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part and it will not be taken from her.” Luke 10:41

Pax Tecum,

Tom

La...la...la...la

2007-07-10T21:53:00.001-05:00

One of the most frustrating things for me is to have a conversation with someone who simply will not listen to what you are trying to say. We have all had those conversations where both you and the person that you are talking to are absolutely convinced that they have the entire truth about the topic of conversation. There is no convincing them. There is no relenting in your own position. It becomes a dual monologue duel instead of a dialogue. Often times we find ourselves simply waiting for the other person to stop talking so that we can convince them of our point of view.

As children, we had a much simpler way of dealing with the problem. If our parents or our friends told us something that we did not want to hear, we quickly enacted the most rational, most mature, most effective plan that we could so as not to be convinced that we were wrong. We would cover our ears and shout in a loud voice, “La…la…la…la…I can’t hear you!” We would continue to do this until the other person finally gave up and stopped talking.

I got to wondering. How often do you think that God sees us as those stubborn little children with their hands over their ears making an active effort to ignore Him? The fact is God speaks to us in a very real way. There were many times growing up where I became distraught because I could not hear God speaking to me. There would be tragic situations in my life or on the news and I would ask myself, “Where is God in this?” Other times I would pray and pray only to have my prayer seemingly unanswered. I thought that I was unable to hear God speak to me.

I think we all generally agree that it is good to do what God wants us to do. We would be happy to submit to His will if only we knew what it was. If you got a certified letter from God telling you exactly what He wanted you to do with your life and guaranteed you happiness if you followed the plan, would you follow it? I think most of us would. I think we strive to please God in most situations. The problem is that we are unable to hear God speaking to us. We put obstacles in the way that prevent us from hearing His voice. Our pride, our sin, our fear, our inability to trust, our desire for pleasure, our conceit, our self-love, our lust, our gluttony, our greed, and many other negative traits prevent us from hearing God’s voice.

Eventually, we learn that most of us will not hear God speaking to us in the form of a flaming bush or a loud clap of thunder. Instead we hear God speak to us in the silence of our hearts. We also hear God speak to us through the words and actions of others. God is constantly speaking to us, however, we cannot hear him if we have our hands over our ears. We must lower our hands, humble ourselves, and admit that perhaps we do not know what is best for us.

Just because something gives us pleasure does not mean that it will bring us happiness. I think often times people equate pleasure with happiness. For example, some people find smoking a cigarette pleasurable, but that does not mean it will bring that person happiness. Sex with a prostitute may be described as pleasurable to some, but rarely, I think, would it bring happiness. I am not trying to say that nothing that is pleasurable will not lead to happiness. In fact, if you look at a synonym for happiness, it says, “providential,” meaning something that happens or results from divine providence (i.e. the will of God).

That line of thinking would lead one to believe, as do I, that happiness comes from doing God’s will. So we tell ourselves, “Well if He would just tell me what He wants, I would do it.” God does tell us what He wills for us. God wants us to love. God wants us to know that we are loved. God wants us to trust Him. God wants us to follow the example that He has given to us in our Lord Jesus Christ.

God also speaks to us everyday in scripture. This past week in the scripture we have heard the prophet Elijah and our Lord Jesus Christ challenge those around them to stop what they are doing and come and serve the Lord. Most of them made an excuse as to why they could not follow God right away. Some said they had to bury their father first. Notice they did not say that they would not follow. They simply made an excuse as to why they could not do it at that time, except for Matthew. When Jesus challenged Matthew to, “Follow me,” Matthew promptly got up and went without asking any questions. When Jesus sent the seventy-two out to prepare the way for Him, they went and listened to his instructions. They quickly realized the power they had and the joy that they had in listening to God’s word and doing His will.

As much as we try to be faithful and listen for God’s voice, at times we simply cannot hear Him. In my own life these past two weeks, I have been consumed with worry, fear, angst, and at times anger. I realized that this behavior was the equivalent to me having my hands over my ears. I think at some point God may have stopped talking and just waited for me to allow myself to listen. Once I opened myself up and put myself into His hands, I was able to hear Him once again.

I know that I am human and that there will be times when, despite my quest for a holier and more faithful life, I will stand in the way of God. However, my prayer is that God will give me the grace to recognize those moments where I am covering my ears and preventing His loving words from getting through. God does answer every prayer. He answers each prayer not with what you want or when you want it, but with what you need and on His schedule for when you need it.

Happiness stems from Providence. Open your ears and hear His voice.

Pax Tecum,

Tom

Dying with Dignity...

2007-06-17T22:34:00.000-05:00

Recently there have been several stories in the news, both local and national, of people who have died by their own hand. Whether it was a case of assisted suicide, a cheap attempt at martyrdom in the name of religion, or simply a person who has been overcome by the challenges of life and has given up, some people chose to take the very gift that God has given them into their own hands and chose when it was that they would die. Some would say that they did so in order to die a dignified and meaningful death. I strongly disagree.

There are absolute truths in this world. There are fundamental truths that are not subjective and cannot be debated. These truths are not a matter of debate or personal preference. One such truth is the law of gravity. None of us would think twice about arguing this truth, especially those of us who are more gravitationally challenged than others. Another such truth is that all of us, at some point, will face death head on. Whether it is the death of someone we love or our own death, our bodies will die. Fortunately for us, by the passion, death, and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ, death of the soul has been conquered and we who believe shall live forever.

Life is a gift. This is a truth that must also be accepted. God alone creates life. God has given the gift for a man and woman to express their complete and total love for one another, enjoin themselves to one another, and through God’s grace and the power of the Holy Spirit, create a new life. Along with this freedom comes the ability to choose to end a life. Whether it be through the killing of a child before it leaves the mother’s womb, murder, suicide, accidental death, or assisted suicide, God gives us the freedom to make choices that sometimes lead to death.

The flip side of the coin is that God also gives us the freedom to choose life. We are free to live our lives for the glory of God. We are free to love one another as God has loved us. We are free to fight for the basic human rights of others. We are free to protect the dignity of human life through our moral principles and our legislation. We are free to enjoy the simple pleasures of life itself.

This freedom, however, came at a price. Let us not forget that God Himself, in the person of His Son our Lord Jesus Christ, suffered, died, and was buried for our sins and our sins alone. God sent us His only Son so that we might learn not only how to love and to live, but how to die. Jesus endured betrayal, a broken heart, loneliness, physical pain, and suffering beyond description so that our sins might be forgiven. After being condemned to die, Jesus was scourged thousands of times until his flesh barely remained attached to his body. A crown of thorns was placed on his head mocking his role as King of Kings. Jesus then carried the very cross that would be used to bring about his death, a cross so heavy, that it cut into his shoulders and caused him to fall three times. At Golgotha, he was nailed to the cross. Large metal spikes were driven into each of his hands and both of his feet. Jesus was then hung on the cross between two thieves and allowed to suffer until his death. All the while, Jesus prayed to the Father to forgive us for what we had done.

For some the account of Jesus’ death is nothing more than a story. For some of us, we fail to associate ourselves and our own sins with Jesus’ death. Unfortunately for some, the suffering and death of Jesus means nothing to them at all.

We are a society that is infatuated with self promotion and self gratification. We strive for comfort and pleasure. We are a “drive through” society that allows us to get what we want, when we want it, for very little self sacrifice or effort. We believe that we can control our lives and that we alone have the right to make the decisions that will affect how we live. We believe that life is ours to have and also ours to take if we so choose.

The truth is, we must all learn not only how to live the life of Jesus, but also how to die like him. We must learn to die to our base passions, our lust, our greed, our selfishness. When we hurt, we should look at the pain and suffering as being redemptive. This is not to say that we should be masochistic and take pleasure in pain. However, when faced with a difficult and painful situation, we must then realize that God suffers along with us and will not give us more to bear. I have said before that God will not give us a cross that we cannot carry. Recently I came across this quote from St. Frances de Sales that describes it better:

“The everlasting God has in his wisdom foreseen from eternity the cross that he now presents to you as a gift from his inmost heart. This cross he now sends you he has considered with his all-knowing eyes, understood with his divine mind, tested with his wise justice, warmed with loving arms, and weighed with his own hands to see that it be not one inch too large and not one ounce too heavy for you. He has blessed it with his holy Name, anointed it with his grace, perfumed it with his consolation, taken one last glance at you and your courage, and then sent it to you from heaven, a special greeting from God to you, an alms of the all-merciful love of God.”

On a recent discussion board, I read the following. “A person’s character is defined by how they lived and not how they died.” I disagree with this statement. What about the martyrs and saints who when facing torture and death remained loyal to their beliefs and professed their faith in God? What about St. Maximilian Kolbe who stepped out of line in Auschwitz to take the place of a husband and father who was condemned to die in the death chamber? What about the passengers of Flight 93? We know very little about how they lived, but we honor the manner in which they died. And, of course, let us not forget the death of our Lord Jesus Christ.

To sum it all up, there is no dignity in choosing to take your own life. There is no dignity in choosing death instead of seeing yourself “whither away.” There is no dignity in telling God that you are not willing to suffer any longer. There is nothing that we suffer that God has not already taken upon Himself. Having said that, we must be compassionate towards those who choose to end their life. We must pray to God and ask for His mercy on their souls. Nothing good comes from speaking ill of the dead.

As Catholics, we pray for a happy death. We ask for our Blessed Mother’s intercession at the time of our greatest need. We pray:

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed are thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

Pax Tecum,

Tom

It may not be all about me, but it starts with me….

2007-06-17T02:39:00.001-05:00

To say that this past week has been difficult would be an understatement. However, the pain and suffering of the last week is best described as growing pains. After listening to Most Reverend Gregory Aymond saying to three men who were about to be ordained to the priesthood, “It’s not about you,” I vowed to work harder at living my life that was less about me and more about Christ.

Immediately upon making this vow, I started to fail miserably in accomplishing my task. It started Sunday morning. Throughout the morning I had difficulty trusting in God. I was overcome with worry about my future and what God had planned for me. I felt uneasy as I knew I had talked about trusting in the Lord, but could not follow my own advice.

Something happens to me when I go to work. I don’t think some people would recognize the person I was this week. Fueled by stress, a lack of sleep, poor diet, and a failure to attend mass daily, I started on a downward spiral. I won’t go into all of the issues at work because they are unimportant to the point I am trying to make. I was consumed by things that I did not think were right. I was overly concerned with what others were and were not doing. I pointed out all the faults and injustices that I perceived to be happening. I was disrespectful, disobedient, uncharitable, and an all around grouch. I blamed the job. I blamed the people. I blamed my unhappiness on everything and everyone other than the true source. I failed to recognize that the problem was me.

This life is not all about me. That is a given, However, I think that Bishop Aymond could have followed up his line with, “but it starts with you.” Instead of worrying about how others are living their lives and how other people’s choices affect you, you should examine your own actions and thoughts to see how well you are living a life of true discipleship. Archbishop Timothy Dolan, in one of his books, is quoted as saying, “the starting point of spiritual growth, the first step in true discipleship, is humble recognition of a profound gratitude for God’s love for us.”

As I left the office on Wednesday I came to a sudden realization that I was in danger. I was in danger of being consumed completely and totally by anger, resentment, jealousy, and self-loathing. It was clearly an attack on the soul. I went to mass and knew that I was in no condition to receive Jesus Christ in the Eucharist. The fact that I was not able to receive the healing power of Our Lord at that moment when I needed it most was a wake-up call. I left mass having resigned my self to rectify the situation. I went to confession Wednesday night and made probably one of my most sincere, heartfelt, and healing confessions.

It was through prayer and the sacraments that I realized that my unhappiness was my own fault. I was allowing myself to be consumed with how others were living their lives. I was judging others by a standard that I, myself, was not living up to. I was looking for reasons to be upset and was taking things too seriously. This weekend I came across a quote from Edward Benson that spoke to me, “How desperately difficult it is to be honest with oneself! It is so much easier to be honest about the foibles of others!”

This week, while difficult, has been one filled with grace as well. This week has taught me that while I am growing in my faith, I still have a lot of maturing and growing to do. St. Francis de Sales has the best advice for us when he says, “Be patient with everyone, but above all with yourself. I mean, do not be disturbed with your imperfections, and always rise up bravely from a fall.” There will be times in our lives when all of us fall. Jesus fell three times due to the weight of his cross. How many more times, in our weakness and humanity, will we fall than God Himself? The fall itself is not as important as whether or not you rise up from that fall and grow as a result of it.

I thank God for the gift of this week. Even though I am tired and not happy with how I behaved this week, I am thankful that our Lord forgives us for our faults and our weaknesses. It is in our weakness that we grow closer to God. He does not give us more than we can handle. God has given us the freedom to choose what type of life we will lead. We can choose to be consumed by the things of this world, by pettiness, by judging others, by anger, by resentment, or we can choose to humble ourselves, turn inward to find Christ’s love, and then radiate that love outward to others. To steal a line from a good and faithful priest, “the choice is yours….choose well.”

Pax Tecum,

Tom

Prayer Request

2007-06-13T19:23:00.001-05:00

I do not have anything profound to say tonight. I do not have any reflections to share. I simply have a request. I write tonight asking for your prayers for me. Please pray for a special intention. It has been a difficult few days and I could use your prayers. All of you remain in my daily prayers.

Pax Tecum,
Tom

"It's not about you..."

2007-06-09T22:30:00.000-05:00

These were the words that were spoken to me and many others today by Bishop Gregory Aymond. You see, I attended an ordination mass in Cedar Park today and these words were the focus of the Bishop’s homily. Now I will not repeat his fifteen minute homily, but I will say that we could all stand to hear it again. I just want to share with you how these four words (actually three words and a contraction) have brought me a sense of peace tonight.

I will have to start by telling you about Friday afternoon. I learned Friday afternoon that I was the subject of a rumor at work. The rumor, like most, was completely false. However it still caused me a great deal of pain. I was hurt because I felt like someone close to me (i.e. a co-worker who I am supposed to trust with my life), someone whom I trusted, manufactured a situation and spread the rumor to others. The content of the rumor is unimportant. I do not know who started the rumor and frankly, I do not want to. I probably should not even post about it because now those people at work who do not know what it was and who read this blog, will undoubtedly make an effort to find out.

I was disturbed by the rumor because I feel like it brought my character into question. Let me be honest by saying that I, like all of us, am a sinner. I have been wrong many times in my past and I am sure that I am wrong about some things now, and will be wrong again in the future. I know that I have hurt others by talking behind their back or participating in gossip. I am deeply sorry for those things that I have done. I have worked hard the last year at amending my life. I try hard to be a man of faith, a man of character, a friend, a trustworthy person, etc. However, at times I fail, and my failures cause hurt to other people. I recognize this and am sorry for it.

I was hurt by this rumor simply by the fact that someone brought my character into question. It was doubly painful because they brought my faith and my life in the church into question as well. The whole situation caused me to grow quiet and withdrawn. I became distrustful of others around me, wondering all the time, “who would do such a thing?” I have tried to be a friend to others. I have tried to listen to others in their time of need. I have given my time, opened my heart, and allowed others to see a side of me that has been hidden for a long time. I have tried to show them God’s love. The whole thing ruined my day and my night after I got home. I refrained from blogging last night because I knew that I was not in the right state of mind.

As I was driving to Austin early this morning, I turned off the radio and began to think about the situation. I began to formulate my thoughts for my next blog entry. It was going to be a masterpiece. It would be moving and would convey a message. I had it all figured out.

Then I heard those words from Bishop Aymond, “It’s not about you…”

The fact is, little in my life should be about me. Instead, my life should be about God who dwells within me and works through me. I am not called to make a name for myself, for that will only lead to my destruction as it did for our ancestors. I should not look at my reputation, my financial status, or my material possessions as a measuring stick for how good I have done for myself. The only measuring stick I should use is to look at how well I have done at reflecting God’s love to others. After all, it is all about HIM.

Everything that I do in every moment of my life, should lead others to God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. My accomplishments are not my own, they are God’s. My talents are not my own, they are God’s. The church does not belong to me. It belongs to God. He shares in my joy as well as my hurt. My every thought and action should be about Him.

So why, then, should I be upset that someone finds the need to spread false information about me. It does not matter what their intentions were. I should not worry about what they say for I cannot control it. Again, none of this is about me and it is certainly not about them.

Later in the afternoon today, I watched a video that had a simple point to make: Have you ever noticed how when things in nature grow, they grow in silence? For example, a flower makes no noise when it blooms. A sun makes no noise when it sets. When a child grows inside its mother’s womb, it does not speak.

It is an interesting point when you consider it. We grow in our silence. By closing our mouths, quieting our hearts, opening our ears, and dying to ourselves, we grow closer to God the Almighty.

So then, perhaps the way to deal with these frustrating situations involving rumors, etc. is to simply become silent, consider what was said, remember that it is not about you, and allow yourself to grow.

Peace be with you,

Tom

Let me be a Lighthouse

2007-06-07T19:07:00.000-05:00

When I moved into my new house, my brother-in-law was gracious enough to bring all of my brother’s possessions to my new house. The stuff was being stored in his basement for the past year. I knew that there were a few treasures in there that I was expecting. For example, the picture below is of my brother standing next to an amazing painting of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. It now hangs in my library:

However, there were some that I uncovered that I did not know my brother had. One of the treasures was a large framed print of a lighthouse. The lighthouse is sitting on a small island that is near a coastline. The best way I can describe it is to picture the high cliffs like the ones at Dover but think southern France or Italy. Everything is really green and plush. The waves are crashing up against the island on which the lighthouse rests. The picture is about five feet wide and I placed it above my bed. I was really happy with the picture for several reasons. First, the picture is mostly a light green and it goes well with the green color I painted my walls. Secondly, it is just a beautiful picture and I wish I had taken it myself.

The first few days of waking up and seeing the picture, I could not understand why my brother purchased this picture. Most of his pictures or paintings were of Jesus, the Vatican, or something to do with Texas A&M. Other than this being a beautiful landscape picture, I was not sure why he had it.

I will never know for sure why my brother had that picture or what it meant to him, but the picture has taken on a new meaning to me. I look at that picture now and realize that the lighthouse in that picture is an excellent metaphor for how we are called to live our lives. Bear with me a little bit, I don’t think this is too far of a stretch.

The purpose of a lighthouse is to guide ship captains along the coastline. The lighthouse emits a bright light that can be seen from miles away. It alerts a ship’s captain to the dangerous terrain of the coastline. It also allows the ship’s captain to navigate from one checkpoint to another. The lighthouse provides the ship’s captain with a sense of comfort that someone else is out there helping them along their journey. The lighthouse is most appreciated on a dark, stormy, or foggy night when it is especially difficult for the captain to find his way.

The lighthouse itself stands tall over the horizon. It is constructed in a manner that is resilient to the elements and is meant to sustain strong winds. The windows of the lighthouse must be kept free from dirt, both on the inside and the outside. When the windows become dirty, the bright light contained within is diffracted and may not reach the captain’s eye. The light must be kept burning. There must be adequate fuel on hand to keep the light burning bright, especially when the elements take their toll.

What about the keeper of the lighthouse? Here is a person, be it a man or a woman (I will use the masculine gender for the sake of ease), who makes a great sacrifice to provide a life saving service. The keeper of the light chooses to live in an area that is often isolated from the rest of the world. The keeper chooses to be in the world and not of the world. The keeper will choose to forego some of the everyday luxuries and comforts that you and I enjoy everyday. The keeper of the light, other than a modest stipend, provides this service for the good of others. I am sure there is a certain type of person who chooses to live in this isolation, but that goes beyond this discussion. The keeper must be dependable and always present. Without his care and efforts, the light may be extinguished. If the light goes out, it does not mean that the captain will not find his way. It simply means that there is a greater likelihood that the ship will crash or will be lost.

When I think about the picture in these terms, I have found a new love for it. I still do not know what it meant to my brother, but I know what it means to me and why I will not part with it. My prayer is that God allow me to be a lighthouse for others. Allow me to stand strong in the midst of storms and foggy times. Allow me to keep my windows clean and emit the light of Christ for others. Allow me to make sacrifices of the keeper so that others may see the light and find their way in life. Lord, let me be a lighthouse.

Pax Tecum,

Tom

St. Paul Says It Better

2007-06-04T20:50:00.000-05:00

In my previous posts I have made an attempt at articulating my philosophy on how the difficult times in our lives are what builds our character and draws us closer to God. The times in our lives that we think God can’t possibly be present, are the very moments where He draws us in with a tight and loving embrace. Therefore, these moments are not to be avoided or looked upon with fear or sadness. Instead, we must find in them the opportunity to allow God to hurt along with us and to show us His love for us.

I will admit that I am fairly ignorant of some parts of sacred scripture. As I continue to read, I find words that convey my thoughts and feelings much better than I could ever articulate them. The following is the second reading from the Solemnity of the Holy Trinity. I quote the reading here word for word as I feel that St. Paul, by the grace of the holy spirit, has said it best:

Rom 5: 1-5

“ Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access [by faith] to this grace in which we stand, and boast in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we even boast of our own afflictions, knowing that affliction produces endurance, and endurance, proven character, and proven character, hope, and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the holy spirit that has been given to us.”

The gospel reading then goes on to say:

Jn 16:12

“ I have much more to tell you, but you cannot bear it now…”

To me, this single verse, says so much about God’s relationship with each and every one of us. First, God knows all, he is omniscient and omnipotent. That is not a difficult thing to swallow. All of us who believe have come to know that simple fact. The part that I think we overlook is that God knows each and every one of us inside and out. God knows our every thought and emotion. God knows the difference between what we need, what we think we need, and what we want. God is equally present at all times to all of His children and like a good Father, God knows how to provide for us.

God does not give us anything in our lives that we cannot handle. The key to making it through those difficult and stressful times is to allow God to help us along the way. It seems like such a simple concept but we are a proud people. We often refuse the help of others and believe that we gain some sort of power in our independence and our ability to be a “self-made man.” When some people realize that no matter how hard they try, they cannot overcome their difficulties without help, they self-destruct. For some, they give up trying to survive at all.

When times are tough and are the most difficult for us. We must remember that God is there with us during those times. He will not give us anything that we cannot bear with Him, however, if we try to bear the weight of the cross alone, the weight of it all may just crush us altogether.

Pax Tecum,

Tom

Let it Hurt....

2007-06-01T21:02:00.001-05:00

The other day I was talking to a friend who was going through a difficult time in her life. To most, her problems may have seemed minor in nature, but the problems were causing her sadness. My first inclination was to say something helpful to her, something that would ease her pain and take away the hurt. The only thing that I could think to tell her was, “let it hurt, but let God hurt along with you.”

After I was done talking to her and was by myself, I began to reflect on the advice I had just given. I was not sure from where those words originated. The words had as much meaning for me and my life as it did for her. Those three words, “let it hurt” make up a difficult lesson that hopefully we all learn at one point in time.

The last year of my life has been difficult to say the least. There have been times of extreme emotional pain and hurt. There have been feelings of helplessness, worry, and misunderstanding. Like most people, when the tough times in my life came about, I did everything I could to bring my life back to normal. I did what I could to avoid feeling the pain and the hurt. I did what I could to be “happy” once again.

It is a natural human instinct to avoid pain. If our hand touches a hot stove, our hand will involuntarily jerk itself away from the heat to prevent further injury. Our body has several ways of protecting itself from injury. When we are hurt and are suffering, we will often pray to God to ease our pain and to bear our cross. However, not all pain and suffering will lead to our demise.

It is in our pain that we are able to turn inward and find our true inner person, the person that God intended for us to be. When we turn inward we are able to ignore all of the external distractions of the world. We are able to worry less about what the world wants us to be and consider more who we truly are.

We are told from a young age that we can control our lives. If we work hard enough and study hard enough we can be whatever we want. We are told that the opportunities for how we can live our lives are endless and we are free to be whatever and whoever we want. Some people spend too much time trying to be what the world wants them to be or what others think that they are. Some people will pursue degrees, careers, or relationships that the world tells them they need to pursue. Living your life in this manner may bring what you think is acceptance and, in turn, a sense of happiness. When things go “according to plan” you are lifted up and rise up. The problem is, the higher you rise, the further you have to fall when those great humbling and painful moments come about.

By examining your inner self and knowing who it is that God wants you to be, you are able to stay grounded. You begin to realize what it is in your life that brings about true happiness, the happiness that does not allow you to position yourself on a pedestal thinking that you are in total control. The pain and suffering of the fall become redemptive. The pain breaks down those false images of what we need to be. The pain tills the soil of our soul so that new growth can occur. We use our faith to water and nurture the seed that God, Himself, has planted. Notice that God loves us too much to just fix our problems. Instead, God suffers with us and continues to show us His love. Let us not forget that God demonstrated His love for us through His own passion, death, and resurrection. The resurrection, though, could not have happened without the crucifixion.

In the end, one of two things happen; we either work through the difficult times and learn from the experience, or we allow the experience to destroy us completely.

I know this entry is a little less developed and organized than the others. I am sorry if it doesn’t make sense, but it is what is on my mind today and I am having difficulty articulating it.

I think I finally have an answer to the age old question, “why does God allow bad things to happen to good people?” My answer is simply, “because He loves us that much.”

Pax Tecum,

Tom

A Sweet Ending...

2007-05-30T19:33:00.000-05:00

This morning was one of those mornings where very little went right. I don’t know what the problem with me was this morning. Perhaps I did not get enough sleep. I walked into work and the agitation began. I can’t really explain all of the issues that are going on at work but it was a frustrating morning. To sum it all up, I have a ton of work to do and not enough time to do it all. I tell myself to just put in an honest day’s work and don’t worry about what you do or do not get done. It just seems like there is no end or relief in sight. Some days I deal with this better than others.

Today I did a horrible job of dealing with the stress and it resulted in anger. I saw what was happening but felt powerless to stop it. Finally, at lunch I found some relief. I went to mass and asked God for His forgiveness and His help in dealing with the different issues. It was a good mass. I am not sure that I was able to get myself in the most prayerful mood. For whatever reason, the agitation was hard to let go of and leave at the foot of the cross.

I heard the readings but they did not lead me to any deep reflection like the ones last week. It’s not that the readings were any less meaningful today. I just don’t think that I was in the proper state to receive them. Before mass the agitation and frustration felt like an infection that I could not get rid of. It taught me a good lesson in making sure that there is adequate time to place you in the proper prayerful state before mass. I felt more peace when I left mass, but I certainly was not looking forward to going back to work.

I had to go to another department for most of the afternoon. It was good to be out of the office for a while. One of my co-workers called me a couple of my times on my cell phone but I could not answer. I finally called him back close to around five o’clock. He wanted to know if he could have a piece of the pie that was sitting on my desk. I asked him what pie he was talking about. Apparently while I was out of the office, an older couple who I helped with a problem more than a year ago was in town and dropped off a chocolate pie for me as a way of saying thank you. This couple is special to me for various reasons. They were one of the first couples that I was able to help when I was new to my current assignment. They were just a really neat couple and I was glad that I could make a difference for them. They always seem to show up at the right times.

A few months ago, I was having a morning similar to this one. I was questioning whether or not I wanted to remain in my current assignment and was considering making a change. Later that afternoon this couple showed up to ask me for some advice on an issue. The question they had for me did not pertain directly to my line of work, but they trusted me and wanted to know what I had to say. It was good to see them and great to give them a hug. They were able to remind me why it is that I do what I do. They are the reason that I am able to make it through the difficult moments and the stressful times. Being able to help people in that way is why I got into my job in the first place.

When I returned from work I found the pie on my desk with a note from the couple that simply said, “Enjoy.” I found out that many people were pacing back and forth wondering who the pie was from and if they could have a piece. Suffice to say, I shared the pie and I shared the story of the couple who brought the pie. I was embarrassed by how I had acted earlier in the day. I thank God for the subtle reminder and the sweet ending to my day. Even though I had stumbled and erred in my ways, God picked me up, dusted me off, and showed me His love.

As sweet as the pie was, it will not last. My relationship with the couple and the reminder of what it means to truly help people will remain. My God and His love for me will reign for eternity. The sweetest ending to this day will be reconciling myself with God and His Church through the holy sacrament of confession. I hope all is well with each of you.

Pax Tecum,

Tom

First Few Blogs

2007-05-29T21:59:00.000-05:00

Not that anyone cares or I think anyone will read this, but I have decided to blog occasionally. Here are a few other blogs that I have posted on myspace and facebook. If nothing else maybe you will find them entertaining.

May 24, 2007

I am not one who typically blogs much. Mainly, because I do not think that my thoughts or feelings are profound enough that anyone would care to read them. However, today I felt like writing down some of the thoughts I had throughout the day today. I write them mostly for personal reflection and so that I can read them at a later time, but also in case someone else finds meaning in them.

I knew that today would be a difficult day. Today is the one year anniversary of my brother’s death. It seems like more than ten years since the accident. It seems like much more than that since I have heard his voice and saw his smile. He was a good and holy priest and an awesome brother. et lux perpetua luceat ei…

I went to mass this morning and it was one of those days where the readings really spoke to me. The first reading was from Acts. In the reading we hear our Lord tell Paul, “Take courage. For just as you have borne witness to my cause in Jerusalem, so you must also bear witness in Rome.” Just when Paul thinks that the end is near, the Lord tells him he has other plans for Paul. Paul may have had the ending right, but his timing was off. The Lord promises to stay by Paul’s side and protect him on his journey. It is comforting to know that our Lord will never leave our side and will comfort us and protect us in our times of need. It is easy to forget this during our difficult times and times of suffering. The Lord does not give us a cross to bear without giving us the graces necessary to bear it. However, we can choose to ignore and even reject God’s saving grace.

It has been a difficult week. Nothing major has happened but I have had a few hard days where I feel like the devil just kicked my butt. I realize my times of sin and am upset at how I reacted to the situation. It is often said that we should be tabernacles for Christ and take him out into the world. I think it is better said that we should be a monstrance for Christ so that he may be visible to all we meet and not hidden away by a golden door (not my original thought, but one I borrowed; the source is unknown, sorry). I felt as though I kept Christ hidden during these difficult times.

The responsorial psalm had a gentle reminder for me in regards to the devil’s attacks. “Keep me safe, O God; you are my hope.” The psalm goes on to say, “because you will not abandon my soul to the nether world, nor will you suffer your faithful one to undergo corruption.”

The gospel then prompted me to think even more about the world and how we choose to live our lives. In the Gospel John tells us of Jesus’ prayer to his Father, “I pray not only for these, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, so that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you, that they also may be in us, that the world may believe that you sent me. And I have given them the glory you gave me, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may be brought to perfection as one, that the world may know that you sent me, and that you loved them even as you loved me. Father, they are your gift to me…”

Notice that Jesus prays to the Father that we all be one. Jesus calls for unity. All men and women are made in the image and likeness of God. All men and women are loved by God equally. Jesus and his Father do not want us to be separated. I notice that we (notice I do not say ‘some people’ or ‘they’) will often separate ourselves out from the rest of the world, especially when we do not agree with what a particular person or group is doing with their life. We are quick to point out the faults in others, especially when they are obvious. Sometimes we point this out to ourselves mentally and other times it is verbalized or in our written word. We may be well intentioned at times, but we still separate ourselves even if only in our mind. We fail to see that “those people” even in their misguided moments are also children of God. They are not loved by God any less than us. If they hurt, then we also hurt. We are all members of the mystical body of Christ. So why then do we talk about what our friends do, or how some people do this and others do that? We are at times afraid to recognize our own humanity and our sinfulness because we believe that what we are doing is right. We believe that we are given some sort of credibility to speak about the faults of others because we go to mass and are active in our church. I have said it before and say again, is it not better to see the church in the man than to see the man in church? It is much easier to identify the faults in others and point them out, even pray for them, than it is to turn inward, examine our hearts, minds, and souls and recognize those times where we separate ourselves from God. We must, ourselves be united with God, in order to join ourselves to others. In a book that I recently read by Catherine de Hueck Doherty, she says, “It is by becoming one with the Trinity, which is the uncreated and first community, that we can become one with humanity.”

This does not mean that we should not help those of our brothers and sisters who are separating themselves from God recognize the effect of their actions, but we must do so in a loving and charitable way as if we were the ones in need of the help. We are called to love as Jesus has loved us. Jesus considers us all a gift from the Father. I am sure that He did not ask for a gift receipt, even when the gift he was given was already broken.

I guess my overall point is, we should stop separating ourselves from our brothers and sisters in Christ. If one person suffers, we all suffer. Let us not create more division in the world by drawing lines in the sand. The only time that we should look down on another man is if we are bending over to help him up (again, not mine, source unknown).

I left mass quiet and reflecting on what God just said to everyone who heard mass this day. It was a wonderful way to start the day. As I was driving to work I pulled in behind a vehicle. On the vehicle was a bumper sticker that read, “God bless the world…no exceptions.” (or words to that effect). I responded with one word, verbally, even though I was alone, “Amen.”

Pax tecum,

Tom

May 25, 2007 Friday of the Seventh Week of Easter

“Follow me.”

These two words, when first heard, seem to be such a simple command. Even most animals, when placed in a straight line, will follow the one in front of them without giving it a second thought. We all know one or two people in our lives that we trust enough that we would follow them to the ends of the earth, even in the face of danger. Why then is it such a challenge, when our Lord Jesus Christ commands us to, “Follow me.”? Why do we doubt? Why do we ask for assurances? Why do we not submit completely and follow Him based on faith alone?

We must understand the context in which Jesus tells Peter to follow him. After the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus, Peter is somewhat bewildered and I dare say almost despondent. Despite having received the teachings of our Lord and being assured by our Lord Jesus that everything would be okay, Peter did not know what he was going to do. Of course Peter wanted to be faithful and obedient to Christ, he just was not sure how to go about doing it. Peter was waiting for something, but he was not sure when the something he was waiting for would come. So, Peter, not knowing what he should do, does what he knew best. He went fishing.

Peter and the other disciples cast out their nets in all directions. Each time they cast the nets they hoped to pull in a bountiful harvest. They hoped to pull in food that would sustain them, provide them food, and make for a happy meal. Each time that they cast the nets in the directions of their choosing, they gave up. Then, a stranger appears to them on the shore and asks them if they have caught anything. The stranger then tells them to cast their nets out over the right side of the boat. Peter and the others know that they have already cast their nets in this direction and came up empty. However, they figure it would not hurt anything and so they cast their nets again. We all know that this time, the net catches a large number of fish. Only after the net is pulled up full does Peter realize who the stranger is. Peter then rushes to the shore to greet Jesus.

Then, perhaps one of the most forgotten meals occurs, the first breakfast. This meal is often forgotten in light of the Last Supper. However, this meal is of great importance. Jesus sits down and shares the fish with the disciples. Fish that were caught based on the disciples willingness to listen to our Lord even though they did not know the advice was coming from Him. He then goes on to give further instruction to Peter and I will reflect on that a bit later.

We all have moments in our lives when we are not sure what God’s will is for us. We wonder what it is that God wants us to do with our lives, our relationships, our jobs, our education, or our vocation. Last night I attended the graduation for our local high school students. Several of the kids were parishioners at my church. I know many of them were wondering what would come next in their lives. Many were no doubt praying to know God’s will for their life. If only God would tell us in no uncertain terms what it is that he wants us to do, we would do it with great vigor. If only we could hear that voice from the shore telling us what to do.

Not having a clear idea of what God wants, we cast out our nets. Unfortunately the directions in which we cast our nets are not always the same as God would have us cast them. We look for happiness and God’s will in the wrong places. For some people, they seek out a relationship that, while it makes them feel comfortable, loved, and secure, the relationship is often harmful to the person and his or her relationship with God. The relationship, due to its faults and the fact that it is based on a foundation of sand instead of stone, leads the person to sin and away from God. For others, they remain in a situation that they know does not provide them an opportunity to grow as individuals and grow in their love for God. We sometimes choose to remain where we are and do nothing to change our lives because we fear the unknown. Still others will be so worried about choosing God’s will that they will miss that gentle calling from God to cast out their nets. They will discount the voice as being that of a stranger or our inner conscience and not that of God. They do not here Christ say, “Follow me.” Some hear Him say the words but want to know where Christ is taking them first before they will go.

And finally, there are those who have little regard for the will of our Lord. They have lost hope or perhaps faith and cast out their nets in very dangerous directions. I am speaking of those of us who look for happiness in sex, pornography, masturbation, drugs, alcohol, abuse of others, or material possessions. While it seems that these nets catch a lot of fish at times, the fish are too small and slip through the holes in the nets. The fish are never quite enough to sustain us and provide us the nourishment we need. In fact, they poison our minds and souls and continue to separate us from God.

My prayer to God for me and each and every one of us is that the Holy Spirit will give us the grace to open our ears to the calling of our Lord to cast out our nets and reap a bountiful harvest. May we have the faith necessary to follow the Lord without worry, without question, and without doubt the He will lead us to the Father.

“I love you.”

These three words when said with the proper meaning and full of heart are three of the most powerful words in any language. When said properly they can comfort those in pain or despair, they can give hope to those who feel lost, they can bring great joy to a father or mother when they are said by their children, and they can strengthen a bond between a man and a woman. However, I believe that these three words have had their meaning diluted due to the improper use of them and saying them without knowing what they mean.

To find the meaning of love one could look in a dictionary. There are all sorts of technical, philosophical, and psychological meanings of the word love. However, for the purposes of this reflection I will stick with the most complete definition that I know. Deus Caritas Est. God is love. Jesus tells us to love one another as he has loved us. We have been given the perfect model of love and yet we do not always follow it. We allow our lust to be called love. We allow our affections or affinities to be called love. We even allow our addictions to be called love. Our society’s definition of love has become so muddled that the words have almost lost their meaning. True love is to lay one’s life down for your friends. True love means giving yourself totally and completely to another. True love means wanting what is best for another person even if it means it will cause you some difficulty or hardship. True love is in the Eucharist. True love is Christ’s passion, death, and resurrection.

So why then does Peter become upset when the Lord asks him three times, “Do you love me?” Peter tells the Lord that of course he loves him and that the Lord knows that he loves them. Peter has forgotten or chooses to ignore that just recently he denied that he even knew Jesus three times. During a time when Peter had a great opportunity to demonstrate his love for Jesus, he was nowhere to be found. Please do not think that I am bashing Peter here. There comes a time in all of our lives where we fail to demonstrate our love for our Lord Jesus Christ. We deny him countless times. We ignore the opportunities he gives us to demonstrate our love. We even fail to allow ourselves to feel God’s love and mercy. How many times must the Lord ask each one of us, “do you love me,” before we give a meaningful and truthful response?

The Lord tells Peter then to “tend my sheep,” and to “feed my sheep.” If Peter really loves the Lord then he will love God’s people and lead them to Christ. The next time that you say the words, “I love you,” say them with meaning. Let there be no need for someone to wonder whether or not they are loved by you. Do not simply say the words but show them by your actions that you love them. And then, having discovered the meaning of what it is to love, listen to our Lord Jesus Christ as he says, “Come. Follow me.”

Pax Tecum,

Tom

May 26, 2007

Being a new homeowner, I have learned many things. One thing I have learned is to never expect something to be installed, delivered, or repaired correctly the first time. You can hope that all goes well, but you certainly should not expect it. Today I was working on installing my DSL service. I had received the hardware in the mail, I had received the phone call from Verizon saying that everything was good to go, and I read all the instructions. I am not a techno geek by any means but I would like to think that I am competent in reading and following instructions.

I followed Verizon’s instructions word for word. I went to connect to the internet and nothing happened. I rebooted the computer, the modem, the computer and the modem; I tried everything. Finally I decided to give up my pride and call the technical assistance line. I spent thirty minutes on the phone with a very patient man named Mohammed. He tried all that he could think of and then passed me along to a man he said was more talented than him. The second man, Brian, could not help me either. The end result of my hour of frustration was that there was a technical problem with the “wiring in the central office.” I was told to try my luck in 48 hours and if it was not fixed call back. I was a little frustrated but not upset. The situation was obviously out of these two gentlemen’s control.

While working with the DSL guys something more profound happened. My doorbell rang while I was on the phone and I answered the door with the phone in my ear. The man at the door was with DirectTV and he was coming to do an installation. He had picked up my newspaper off my driveway and handed it to me. I apologized to him for being on the phone and explained to him what was going on. I asked him to come inside and wait for me for a few minutes. I knew this man probably had other installations scheduled and I felt bad for making him wait. He patiently came in and stood in the foyer. I had to walk back into the kitchen where my laptop was and do something on my computer for the DSL guy.

After several minutes, I went to apologize again to the older gentleman from DirectTV. It was raining outside at the time and I knew that he was probably not looking forward to putting up a satellite dish in the rain. I did not see him in the foyer and was not sure where he went. I started to walk into my library which is located just to the left of my front door. Before I go on, I want to briefly describe the library. The room was originally intended as a formal dining area or a study. I painted the walls a deep maroon and lined the walls with bookcases. On one wall is a painting of Jesus of Divine Mercy. On the other wall is the central focus of the room, a painting of the Sacred Heart of Jesus that belonged to my brother. I have other pictures of Pope JP II the Great, my brother, and my father displayed in the room. There are two large overstuffed chairs in the room making it a great place to read, pray, or just relax.

As I rounded the corner to the library, I saw that the gentleman from DirectTV had removed his hat and was on bended knee in prayer in front of the painting of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. The scene was beautiful and touched me greatly. There have been many delivery people in an out of my house over the course of the past week. Several of my friends and family members have also been through the house. I had not observed any of them pay such tribute to Our Lord as this man. I should say here that just because I did not observe them does not mean that they did not pay tribute.

I backed away quietly so as not to disturb the gentleman and went back to the kitchen. When I got off the phone, the man came out and politely asked me what he could do for me today. He then put on his rain coat, grabbed his ladder, and went to work outside in the rain. He worked hard and took great care not to damage my house. He assured me several times that he would take care of my house and would not make a mess. Of course, I instantly believed him and knew that his word was all that I needed.

Today was just another example to me that God speaks to us in some of the most beautiful yet subtle ways. It is through these everyday, almost insignificant events, that God reminds us of His love and bolsters our hope in our fellow man.

Pax tecum,

Tom

May 29, 2007

There’s no place like home…

So I have not written anything in a couple of days. I have been busy this weekend attempting to get my house situated. I never knew there was so much to do in a new house. My internet did not get fixed until this morning so I did not have an opportunity to post anything anyway.

Two of my friends from church came over on Sunday afternoon and Monday evening to help me put some things in place. My kitchen now has a fresh layer of shelf paper on all of my shelves, cabinets, drawers, etc. Another major task was accomplished in putting all of my books and my brother’s books onto the shelves in my library. At first I did not think they would all fit, but we got them all on the shelf. Of course, I cannot buy anymore because they would not fit. The library is spectacular and is by far my favorite room in the house. It is a great room to read, visit, pray or whatever.

Today after work I went to Linens N Things. I never knew how dangerous that store can be…even for a guy. I am not all that talented in the decorating area, but just because I am a bachelor does not mean my house has to look that way. The days of hand me down furniture, mix and match towels, and beer signs on the wall are over. College was fun, but after being out of school for six years, it is time to live like an adult. I got a female friend to help me at Linens N Things. I about choked when I went to check out. It was an experience I don’t want to talk about.

However, one thing that I realized is that once you get everything home and put into place, it looks fantastic. You tend not to think about what it cost you and you take a great deal of pride in what you own. I don’t want to give the impression that I went on a spending spree and am living beyond my means because I didn’t. I do finally have nice things though and am seeing the fruits of my many nights working the hospital for extra money and other jobs like that.

My roommate saw the expression on my face tonight and knew that I was happy with how things were coming together. I am proud of my home. I realize how abundantly God has blessed me with everything that I have. Despite a difficult year, I realize I am blessed. Just thinking about it all brings me to tears.

I told my roommate that when I was young I did not like to have friends over to my house. I am ashamed to admit this now as an adult, but as a child I was embarrassed to bring my friends over to my house. My father was disabled from a stroke and was not always able to control his emotions. It made for some embarrassing moments if someone who did not understand his illness was at the house. I realize how incredibly shallow and disgusting that is, but cut me some slack, I was 8 – 13 years old. It was nobody’s fault; it was just my own insecurity. My mother did everything in her power to give me a happy childhood and she succeeded. I love her dearly for that.

Anyway, back to what I was saying. I am proud to have a house where I can have my friends over at any minute. Almost everything in the house was bought and paid for by my efforts at work and my career. There are many things in this house that remind me of who I am and how far in life I have come. I am blessed more than I deserve with a beautiful home, beautiful friends, beautiful family, and a beautiful life.

God Bless,

Tom