Think For Yourself

Some of you may be familiar with the famous website: ThinkJesuit.org which is hosted by the Chicago/Detroit/Wisconsin Vocations Team of the Society of Jesus. My counterpart in Milwaukee and I have agreed to upgrade the site to include recent stories, more current podcasts and the same informational material to help men discern a vocation to the Jesuits. Think about it.

Of course it must be emphasized that a Jesuit vocation is not discerned merely by "thinking" about it. A man must first "pray" about his vocation and share that interior dynmaic with a spiritual director. The most authentic vocation is felt below the neck, as it were -- ergo the T-shirts. We also have hats, but those might suggest too much a rational or cerebral process.

Pay a visit to the site if you dare, and better yet, pass on the link to guys you "think" might make good Jesuits.

Gratia vobis et pax adimpleatur.

I've Just Seen A Face

A couple months ago (when I had intended to write this new entry) the media were in a buzz about the new statue of Ronald Reagan placed in the Capitol building. One commentator said something like, “Reagan is the only statue whose face bears a smile.” Then I thought about a message I received long ago while walking through the streets of Oxford, England. I was a tourist back in 1984, before my Jesuit days, on a three-week tour through the UK, and I loved visiting the two great seats of learning: Oxford and Cambridge. One afternoon as I strolled down a busy Oxford street full of small bookstores, coffee and souvenir shoppes, I noticed my face in the reflection of a store window. Woah! What a grouch. The expression on my face looked something like this one taken by my brother last month.

“What am I so mad about,” I asked. My brother replied, “Nothing, that’s just the way you normally look.” Sweet Mother of Pearl!

Hello, Patrick, are you happy? (yes) Well, why not tell your face!

So, I continued to walk down the Oxford street, forming a new commitment in my head, “Hmmm, I’ve just got to start smiling more.” How hard is that? I usually smile at myself in the mirror after I’ve shaved. And I smile at bank tellers, people in the McDonald’s drive-through, and flight attendants. I even smile at the dentist! So, why not more places and more often?

These thoughts all ran through my head as I walked along the sidewalk, until the store windows ended. Soon I found myself walking along a stone wall with a graffiti message scratched into it. I stopped and looked more closely. No way! A message for me, from … GOD! It had no be so. It was too weird. I pulled out my camera in disbelief and recorded the graffiti for posterity: “Smiling is good for you.”

Since I think this is what I imagine would be “posterity,” I present the photo in digital form today and hope that it brings a smile to your face as well. Tomorrow, my birthday, I will try to make another entry. But for now, keep smiling.

Ask Me Why

Father, why did you decide to become a priest?

Now and then I supply quick, easy answers to that question: God called me, the Church needs more Jesuits, or I look really handsome in black. Whatever. But deeper reasons why are more subtle: God had been planting in me seeds that slowly grew over time.

When I was young, my Dad (a doctor) used to take me with him on Sunday mornings as he did his “rounds” at Mercy Hospital. When it was my turn to go with him, I loved seeing him at work, and he would introduce me to all the hospital workers, “This is my son, Patrick.” And they’d holler back, “What number are you?” Telling folks I am 7 of 14 never left them with dull expressions. But the best part of hanging out with Dad early Sunday mornings was going with him beforehand to a super-early Mass at a church other than our home parish. St. Mary’s had an early Sunday Eucharist (a quickie Mass), and Dad would take me with him at 9am or something: long before everyone else was up!

St. Mary’s was an older parish, and it had huge stained glass windows depicting the saints: in living color. At least on one occasion, Dad and I walked into church and he pointed up to my right and said, “There’s your patron saint.” I looked up to the last window on the north wall and beheld “my window.” St. Patrick, complete with mitre, snakes and shamrock. How cool was that! Not only did I have my own patron, but there he was in color and larger than life: St. Patrick! Hmm.

Upon reflection, it wasn’t the window so much. I think I was illuminated more so by the fact that I was able to share a unique moment with my father (no small experience for one of ten boys), and a holy one at that. He had named me Patrick and had a window to illustrate what was behind that name. Hmm.

Why did I become a priest? I guess I chose to follow that early Illumination when love and destiny blended in the context of prayer. Thanks Dad. Good vocations are nurtured by good Parents.

Don't Let Me Down

I saw a news article about Boston College today. A few days ago the CNA reported that BC decided to hang a Crucifix in all of the 151 classrooms on campus.
Click here to read the story.

I am all for the decision to display the icon of our faith, and I find it odd that several professors and faculty on campus disagree with the changes. This and other articles suggest that the Crucifix comes across as divisive -- that it appears offensive to non-Christians who happen to teach there.

Alas, human beings will always look upon the Good (be it self-sacrifice, freedom, or love) and call it something just the opposite. I imagine at the actual Crucifixion that the nearby Roman guards might have held a different interpretation than the mother of Jesus. Sometimes people don't like putting up with love, so they tear it down.

In a country where we have an inundation of icons secular and sour, let's raise this One a little higher. Don't let him down. In the words of George William Kitchin who wrote in 1887: "Lift high the cross, the love of Christ proclaim, till all the world adore His sacred Name."

First Georgetown. Then BC. Maybe next will be Loyola Chicago!
______________________

Oh, and lest I forget the significance of this day ... loving birthday wishes to my model of faith.
Happy birthday to my dear and beloved Mom.

Matchbox

They used to call it Candlemas Day, or the Purification of the Blessed Virgin. It is a major feast in the Church, one on which many Jesuits have professed Final Vows.
Today Catholics celebrate it as The Feast of the Presentation of the Lord. Your secular friends may grimace and grunt, "Uh ... Ah thot it wuz Grownd Hawg Daay."

Right.

February 2 is forty days after Christmas. And according to Jewish law, the first born was to be taken to the Temple. So, Mary (an observant Jew) was to "bring to the temple a lamb for a holocaust and a young pigeon or turtle dove for sin"; if she was not able to offer a lamb, she was to take two turtle doves or two pigeons; the priest prayed for her and so she was cleansed. (Leviticus 12:2-8)

Simeon was present in the Temple and recognized the baby Jesus as the "light to the Gentiles" or the salvation of all nations. And so we use candles as a symbol of the light of Christ.

Candles are blessed on this day, and then used on the next day to bless throats. All year, the Church uses candles prominently for all sorts of holy events: baptisms, funerals, and the opening of the Easter Vigil. I use a candle in my prayer sometimes, but alas that doesn't make it any more powerful or satisfying. In fact, at times I find my prayer rather dull, routine, and flat -- even when I have a candle burning.

When I was a Jesuit theology student, before my ordination, I took my concerns about weak prayer to my spiritual director, Fr. Howard Gray, S.J. Howard is a guru of sorts and listened carefully and patiently as I would complain about flat prayer and my tepid soul. I told him I'd light my candle and do my breviary, but I didn't feel very connected to God. Howard knew the Lord would grant me the light I needed for deeper prayer: a greater sense of God's presence with me each day.

A few weeks later, I returned to Howard and told him of a revelation (a light going on) that had happened in my prayer recently. I said, "Hey Howard, remember when I told you I lit a candle every day as part of my prayer. And how I felt that my prayer was going nowhere?" He remembered my complaints, and I went on. "Well, the other day, as I was filled with self-pity, I looked down at the little cup where stashed all the wooden matches that I used to light the candle each day. I noticed dozens of matches in that cup!

I then heard a voice inside say to me, "Hey look, you've really made great effort to be present to Me in prayer. I appreciate your daily desire to just show up and seek My presence."

The Lord had granted me a little light, and I had the matches to prove that He was right ... I did desire to be with him. At least I showed up, as the matches reminded me. Whether prayer was deep or flat was not my fault, but just the nature of prayer (alas, the nature of all relationships).

The first line of Psalm 27 reads,
"The Lord is my light and my salvation."
The last line reads,
"Wait for the LORD, take courage; be stouthearted, wait for the LORD!"

Don't Bother Me

January 28 is the Feast of St. Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274). The breviary states that he "subjected himself to hard discipline." In this painting by Velasquez, we can see how Thomas barely made it through an episode of temptation, concocted by his father. Here's the story:

St. Thomas wanted to be a Dominican, but his father, who was a nobleman from southern Italy, opposed his decision. He ordered his son to be imprisoned in a tower to see if isolating the youth from everyone would make him leave aside his vocation.

Instead of abandoning it, he took advantage of the solitude to pray and study. Seeing this, his father did another bad thing. He arranged for a "public woman" to visit St. Thomas and invite him to sin against purity. It was a chilly day, and a fire was burning in the fireplace of the room where St. Thomas was locked. Talk about symbolism!

When the woman approached to tempt him, he took a stick of burning wood from the fire and threatened to burn the woman should she come any closer. She fled in panic. If you click this photo and enlarge it, you can see the woman leaving in a huff.

Having thus conquered the temptation of impurity, he received the visit of angels who rewarded him with a kind of mystical girdle, that is, an invisible protection against the temptations of impurity. So the Angelic Doctor, St. Thomas of Aquinas, was free of the temptations of the flesh that could disturb the progress of his mind or damage his studies and the great work he did for the Catholic Church.

These comments are taken from Prof. Plinio Corrêa de Oliveira and can be found at this web link.

From the Collect for the Feast:

God our Father, you made Thomas Aquinas known for his holiness and learning. Help us to grow in wisdom by his teaching, and in holiness by imitating his faith.

Rain

Everything I need to know, I learned from Noah's Ark...

1. Don't miss the boat.
2. Remember that we are all in the same boat.
3. Plan ahead. It wasn't raining when Noah built the Ark.
4. Stay fit. When you're 60 years old, someone may ask you to do something really big.
5. Don't listen to critics; just get on with the job that needs to be done.
6. Build your future on high ground.
7. For safety's sake, travel in pairs.
8. Speed isn't always an advantage. The snails were on board with the cheetahs.
9. When you're stressed, float awhile.
10. Remember, the Ark was built by amateurs; the Titanic by professionals.

Oh, and no matter the storm, when you are with God, there's always a rainbow waiting.