Recently in Reflections Category

This is from a few days ago. When I arrived at work on Wednesday, I was asked to lead a communion service since all of our priests were at a convocation with the Bishop and the individual who was to do the communion service was completely swamped all of a sudden. I wrote up a quick few notes.

In today's First Reading from the Book of Tobit, we have both Tobit and Sarah having some trouble.

Tobit, as we heard yesterday, has been blinded with cataracts and his quite frustrated about it, lashing out at his wife and her calling him own it - "where are your charitable deeds now--your true character is finally showing itself!"

We pick up the story today with Tobit realizing the error of his ways and calling out to God, aware of both his faults and the faults of all of the chosen people. He ends his prayer asking God to take life from him, since it's better not to live than to live aware of his unworthiness.

Sarah's problems come from this maid. Sarah had seven husbands die on her--who knows why--and the maid is continually insulting her. In the end, she too asks God to take her life from her than to live in such constant abuse.

They both put their grief and struggles into the hands of God.

While in their own spiritual dark nights, God took their grief and depression and raised them up--giving sight to Tobit, so he can live with renewed understanding of his action and driving the demons out of Sarah and allowing her to marry again.

Now, in the Gospel, we have something of the opposite. The Sadducces is questioning Jesus, with a veiled attack on Jesus' foretold resurrection of the dead. They failed to acknowledge the power of God and are forcing their image of what the afterlife would be like on God. Won't the next life just like this one?

No, Jesus responds, we're destined to be like the angels. He's reminding them, and us, that as God is the God of the living, we're not bound to death nor of the bonds of this world. In heaven, we'll all be in a true and pure relationship with one another--husbands, wives, girlfriends, boyfriends, best friends or enemies will all fade away as we enter into true relationship with one another with God in heaven.

In short, we must remember that we are not citizens of this world, but of heaven. We are not to put all of our faith and trust into things of this world, or what we understand of this world. We're to leave in the hands of God our shortcomings, our doubts and our desires and have faith in his power to raise them up, as he will do to ourselves and the departed on the last day.

I wrote this yesterday while sitting in a coffee shop in Houston, away from a computer or an Internet connection.

Today is Holy Saturday. The day Jesus spent in the tomb. For a reflection today, I repost what I wrote in March 2005 in this blog:

Today is Holy Saturday. The Church throughout the whole world is silent today. Most all sacramental functions are forbidden- even Holy Communion may only be given as Viaticum. The Church is silent today as we, in solidarity with the original disciples, wait and pray for the return of our Lord. 2000 years ago, the apostles were frightened for they had not understood the lessons Christ gave to them before his death. They did not fully understand what his death meant for him or for them. On this day, after his death and before his rising to new life, they sat and prayed.

The prayers of our Sacred Triduum are on-going. We started this season on the evening of Holy Thursday with the Mass of the Lord's Supper. We departed in silence and we gathered again on Good Friday. Without any introduction, we began to pray again as we recalled our Savior's Passion. We left again in silence. Tonight, we will gather again in darkness without fanfare or introduction. We gather together to hold vigil for the return of Jesus the Christ.

We are lucky for through our place in time we know that the death of the Son of Man was not an end. We are lucky for we know that it was only through his death that the beginning of new life may be found. The death he died he died to sin once and for all. Today, we join outside the bounds of time with all the Christian faithful before and after us in praying for the rising of Christ to new life. Just as in Advent as we pray for the coming of the Lord through both his nativity, as a reminder of what happened 2000 years ago, and also his Second Coming, so we too during this Sacred day pray in silence for his light to shine in the world once again. 2000 years ago, they prayed for his return to life. Today, we pray that the Light of Christ will shine in us again. Today, we pray that the Risen Lord will again conquer sin and death and enter into our hearts.

Below is a beautiful ancient homily on Holy Saturday. In it, Christ decends to find all those who had fallen to the sleep of death and he finds Adam. Christ explains his sacrifice to him in great symbolic language.

Something strange is happening--there is a great silence on earth today, a great silence and stillness. The whole earth keeps silence because the King is asleep. The earth trembled and is still because God has fallen asleep in the flesh and he has raised up all who have slept ever since the world began. God has died in the flesh and hell trembles with fear.

He has gone to search for our first parent, as for a lost sheep. Greatly desiring to visit those who live in darkness and in the shadow of death, he has gone to free from sorrow the captives Adam and Eve, he who is both God and the son of Eve. The Lord approached them bearing the cross, the weapon that had won him the victory. At the sight of him Adam, the first man he had created, struck his breast in terror and cried out to everyone: "My Lord be with you all." Christ answered him: "And with your spirit." He took him by the hand and raised him up, saying: "Awake, O sleeper, and rise from the dead, and Christ will give you light."

I am your God, who for your sake have become your son. Out of love for you and for your descendants I now by my own authority command all who are held in bondage to come forth, all who are in darkness to be enlightened, all who are sleeping to arise. I order you, O sleeper, to awake. I did not create you to be held a prisoner in hell. Rise from the dead, for I am the life of the dead. Rise up, work of my hands, you who were created in my image. Rise, let us leave this place, for you are in me and I am in you; together we form only one person and we cannot be separated.

For your sake I, your God, became your son; I, the Lord, took the form of a slave; I, whose home is above the heavens, descended to the earth and beneath the earth. For your sake, for the sake of man, I became like a man without help, free among the dead. For the sake of you, who left a garden, I was betrayed to the Jews in a garden, and I was crucified in a garden.

See on my face the spittle I received in order to restore to you the life I once breathed into you. See there the marks of the blows I received in order to refashion your warped nature in my image. On my back see the marks of the scourging I endured to remove the burden of sin that weighs upon your back. See my hands, nailed firmly to a tree, for you who once wickedly stretched out your hand to a tree.

I slept on the cross and a sword pierced my side for you who slept in paradise and brought forth Eve from your side. My side has healed the pain in yours. My sleep will rouse you from your sleep in hell. The sword that pierced me has sheathed the sword that was turned against you.

Rise, let us leave this place. The enemy led you out of the earthly paradise. I will not restore you to that paradise, but I will enthrone you in heaven. I forbade you the tree that was only a symbol of life, but see, I who am life itself am now one with you. I appointed cherubim to guard you as slaves are guarded, but now I make them worship you as God. The throne formed by cherubim awaits you, its bearers swift and eager. The bridal chamber is adorned, the banquet is ready, the eternal dwelling places are prepared, the treasure houses of all good things lie open. The kingdom of heaven has been prepared for you from all eternity.

---

Our shepherd, the source of the water of life, has died. The sun was darkened when he passed away. But now man's captor is made captive. - This is the day when our Savior broke through the gates of death. He has destroyed the barricades of hell, overthrown the sovereignty of the devil. - This is the day when our Savior broke through the gates of death.

-- From an ancient homily of Holy Saturday, Office of Readings

Now that we've celebrated the Sixth Sunday of Lent, which is actually Palm Sunday, so now past almost all of Lenten journey toward Easter. I pray that it was a beneficial one for you. Mine... well... let's say that it started with me enjoying a homemade pizza on the First Friday of Lent, complete with turkey pepperoni. It wasn't until that night that I realized my error.

At midnight and a few minutes ago, another couple of posts from me as part of Blog Action Day 2008 are online at Catholic Thinker.

I'm posting a few entries over at Catholic Thinker for Blog Action Day. The first one (for 5:00 pm) is already online.

I'm drafting this message in flight on American 384, non-stop service from DFW to JFK, on my way for my Papal weekend. This morning was the public Mass at National's Stadium in Washington, DC, yesterday included a ceremony at the White House (complete with the Battle Hymn of the Republic and Happy Birthday for the pontiff's 81st birthday) and a celebration of Vespers (Evening Prayer) with all of the bishops of the United States (last I heard, not one sent their regrents).

Last night, I was interviewed by KEYE CBS 42 for a set of pieces they're putting together about the Papal visit; the first one with me was aired last night at 10 pm. I've seen myself in HD—somewhat scary, but I digress. In that interview, I mentioned that one of the aspects of Pope Benedict that makes him unique is his status as Pope of the Internet.

Pope John Paul II, of happy memory, was considered the Pope of TV. Anyone who saw any images—stills or video—were inspired by him. Whether it was the picture of him standing in front of a teepee in Native American-styled vestments or with sunglasses on or holding his cane upside down acting like it was a hockey stick, you felt a connection to him. He wrote many profound things, and by all means, they should be read and examined. His Theology of the Body and texts examining the role of Mary were groundbreaking in many ways, but he is remembered by the way he captured people.

Pope Benedict XVI is different. He's cute and hearing him with his German accent is great, but he is much more reserved than John Paul II. I can't imagine Pope Benedict ever using his cane as a hockey stick, for example. His gifts, however, lie with the written word. You may hear, or not, the Pope speak, but you want to go online and download the text. His gift isn't in the presentation of Truth, but in his explanation of the Truth. By training, he is a teacher, serving as a professor in Germany before being called up to the Major Leagues (in reverent terms, the fullness of priesthood as a bishop and then to Rome to serve in the Curia) and his natural gift for teaching is obvious.

He teaches when he speaks—from his weekly General Audiences to his Apostolic Exhortation on the Eucharist to the Moto Proprio allowing for the more widespread use of the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite to, of course, his encyclicals, God is Love and Saved by Hope. Now three years after he was called to the Chair of Peter, Pope Benedict still has more people attend his General Audiences than our rock star John Paul II did. Why? Because they learn from this teacher. This is not to say anything negative about John Paul II, not at all, but only that the timid, quiet German who many consider quite dry has a mystical attraction that people are drawn toward through his catechesis.

The Internet is Pope Benedict XVI's biggest aid in his efforts. In the days after any text of his is released, people from around the world are reading it, discussing it, sharing it, wrestling with it and ultimately, finding a greater understanding of the Catholic faith.

I haven't had the chance to read the full-text yet, but apparently, what he had to say to the United States' bishops last night is worth the read.

The greatest good is God: Boethius learned and now teaches us not to succumb to fatalism, which extinguishes hope. He teaches us that fate does [not] govern our lives -- Providence does and Providence has a face. You can speak to Providence because Providence is God.

Pope Benedict XVI spoke yesterday about the two ancient Christian writers, Boethius and Cassiodorus.

1500 years after they lived and died, these two witnesses are still guiding us to Christ.

[I think I found a typo in the translation. The English translation from the Vatican does not include the "not" above; I don't believe it makes sense without it.]

Today, it has been ten years since my dad passed away. Perhaps because I've been so incredibly busy during the past few weeks, I haven't really thought about it much. While in school, I would have too much time to think about it and would end up taking an academic dive this time of year.

I suppose one benefit of working more hours than you can count is you know that you still have to deliver your deliverables. In academics, you're only hurting yourself if you don't do something. In the real world, a lot of other people depend on your work to do their work—it is easier to keep focus.

In other news, my mom is having some medical work today. Your prayers are appreciated.

This is the second in a multi-part series sharing some aspects of a retreat I made last weekend.

I am a child of the information age. I can hardly remember a time without having a computer at home. I've had a website since 1996 (wow, eleven years!) and now, working primarily with university students, I'm used to conducting most of my affairs via the Internet. Not only that, but with the instant back-and-forth, I'm used to conducting most of my affairs quickly via the Internet.

Montserrat doesn't quite work like that.

Since Camp Bapchule was canceled out from under us and suddenly I had this week free, I selected this past weekend for the retreat. There is no way to register for a retreat via their website and so I sent them an e-mail. Days passed. I thought, I should call. I did. Their voicemail system does not make it easy to figure out who you need.

"For a priest, press 1. For a staff member, press 2." Figuring the priests were not in charge of reservations, I pressed 2. "For Greg, press 1. For Luz, press 2. For so-and-son, press 3." I have no idea who to talk to (Greg would work, for future reference). I press 0 attempting to go to a receptionist.

"The operator is not available. You will be disconnected. Goodbye."

Well, okay. I wait and an e-mail finally arrives. After a couple of exchanges, which did go faster than the initial inquiry, I was in business and registered. A confirmation letter was in the mail.

The confirmation letter never arrived, but I figure I wouldn't let that stop me. I drove up to Dallas on Friday after a half-day of work. Upon my arrival, four hours later, it is obvious that somehow my reservation never quite made it in the system. Luckily, they had an extra room, but talk about a close encounter (I suggest sending something via snail mail or perhaps fax. That might be more reliable).

So far, that was my only expectation and it was met. From my uber-efficient technological background, I had the feeling something was amiss with my registration. Beyond that, I had never read about silent retreats or what they are like. I had no idea what to expect.

The retreat center is on lakefront property facing a small inlet of Lake Lewisville, just north of Dallas in a small suburb known as "Lake Dallas". Off of a two-lane road and probably half a mile from the turn, you'll see Montserrat. A 12-foot tall statue of the Sacred Heart greets visitors with their new Jesuit Spirituality Center under construction behind it. To your right, you'll see the oldest remaining structure, St. Joseph Hall. St. Joseph Hall, containing some office space and a majority of retreatant rooms, forms the close side of a quadrangle that includes Advent Hall (another dorm building), St. Ignatius Chapel, Assumption Hall (library, offices and Jesuit living quarters) and the dining hall. Beyond the quadrangle is a wide open area all the way until the lake. White chairs dot the property along with little swings, a dock and some tall birdhouses.

After we settled in, we met at an optional session led by Fr. Joe, the director of the center, introducing us to the idea of a silent retreat. This particular retreat was led by Rev. Mr. Jose Fetzer, S.J.—the "Rev. Mr." is a fancy way of saying he is a transitional deacon that will be ordained a priest sometime in the near future.

While the "standard" form of a silent retreat includes one-on-one spiritual conferences, due to numbers, this retreat includes all of the retreatants gathering together multiple times a day, in silence, to listen to a conference given by Deacon Jose. These conferences were much like an extended homily on a particular subject, complete with notes. The conferences were offered as a "buffet"—a number of choices laid out before us. Individually, we can take what we will from the buffet and use it in our reflections.

The part of a silent retreat that concerned me the most would be the silence. Honestly, when was the last time did I shut off my phone for the entire weekend, much less not speak all weekend? I truly don't know if this has happened before in my life!

Lucky for me, so I thought, the retreat only would last just under 48 hours.