prospero ano nuevo

If there is one thing I have learned to be true and important in the last five years, it is that St. John was absolutely, 100% correct: "God is love." (1 John 4:8)

If there is another thing I have learned to be true and important in the last five years, it is that the first part of 1 John 4:8 (which oft seems to be ignored) is equally absolutely, 100% correct: "Whoever is without love does not know God, for God is love."

If there is yet one more thing I have learned to be true and important in the last five years, it is that perception is not always, and not even often, reality. However, I've also learned that if we approach people and situations through the lens of Christian charity, we will rarely fall short in our response to the call we have received from God to treat all people with the dignity He has endowed them with, in a spirit of loving justice. It doesn't mean we condone behavior we know to be immoral - but it does mean that we see all people as the loved children of God - for that is what we ALL are. 

And... perhaps more directly on the New Year's Eve end of things...
If you'd told me five years ago that I'd be sitting here, writing this post, right now, with everything in my life as it is, I would've laughed. And probably told you I thought you were crazy. 

Five years ago, I wouldn't have dreamed - not in my wildest imagination - that half... well, no, even a quarter... of the things that have happened in the past five years would have come to pass - the good and the bad.

It's true, our experiences shape us, and how we relate to the world we live in. I think it's also true that we choose how those experiences shape us. 

Some of you who read this blog may think I have chosen poorly in how I have allowed my experiences to shape me. 

Some others of you may think I've done just fine. 

I will leave the ultimate verdict up to God, because in the final analysis, what any and all of the rest of us think doesn't matter.

If you know me well, you are probably well aware that I don't make New Year's resolutions, because I think the turning of the year is a poor excuse to make changes in our lives that know no season and no deadline (and I know I blogged about this sometime earlier this year!). This year will be no different. 

However, I've been giving this post some serious thought for the past few days. In light of this retrospective, I've come to the conclusion that there are a couple of things I'd like to put "out there" into cyberspace:

First, if you want to judge me for who I was, who I am, or who I will be - understand this: I have one Judge - and what He thinks, is all that matters to me. Don't like how I live (or how you think I live), where I work, what I do, the way I think, what I say/write, or where I go to church? OK. You're welcome to your opinions.

All I ask is this: if you take issue with me, how I live/where I work/what I do/the way I think/what I say or write/where I go to church... say it to my face. Don't say it to others. Say it to me.

Aside from that, I would offer you this: 

This year, let's strive to be better than we were last year. If you believe in God, work to be better for Him. If you don't believe in God, work to be better for the principle of being better. 

But let's be better, friends. Let's take better care of each other. Let's love each other better. Let us be love, be justice, be goodness to one another. Let's try to make that difference in the life of everyone we meet. 

And instead making this a New Year's resolution, which would be thrown out with the gym membership by March - every time we fail at this, let's strive to pick ourselves back up, dust ourselves off, and start over again. Because saints are sinners who get back up and keep trying. 

+Peace and good, friends - and Prospero Ano Nuevo!

I'll leave you for the year with this image - which I think this is my favorite photograph of all those I made in 2012 - an image of the statue of St. Francis in front of the church of San Francisco de Asis in Ranchos de Taos. It's my favorite of 2012, not only because of where the image was made (which is one of my favorite places in the world), but also because of what it "says." St. Francis understood, far better than most of us ever will, the true meanings of love, sacrifice, and enduring grace. His example is a tall order to imitate, but important to keep in mind - everyday. 

love made man

"Pour forth, 

we beseech you, O Lord, 

your grace into our hearts,

that we, to whom the incarnation of your Son was made known by the message of an angel, 

may by His Passion and Cross 

be brought to the glory of His resurrection. 

Who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, 

one God, forever and ever. Amen."
- collect prayer from the 4th Sunday of Advent (also prayed in the Angelus)

Truth be told, I actually wrote this post on Christmas Eve... but was so busy with family-related Christmas Eve gatherings, I never had the chance to post it. So... edited a bit since it's Christmas Day now...

When the hubs and I went to Midnight Mass (heh, this morning!), we sat in our usual spot - off toward the right side of the sanctuary, where (as in most, if not all Catholic churches) a crucifix hangs. 

Even on Christmas. 

This crucified Christ is the child, announced to a waiting world by the angel Gabriel - whose birth we will celebrate in mere hours.

It's interesting, isn't it, the contrast of Christmas with Crucifixion?

A child born to die. And moreover, the child who is God-made-man - is born to die, assuming our flesh in order to suffer all its pains. 

From that spot off to the right side of the sanctuary, the view of the crucifix hanging in the sanctuary is partially obscured by a beam in the ceiling. Depending on exactly where we are in the pew, I can often only see the feet of the crucified Christ - as was the case at Midnight Mass this year. 

Again, God-made-man. God taking on our flesh. The feet that walked those roads to Jerusalem. The feet that carried Jesus - the healer, the teacher - on all those dusty roads from town to town in his public ministry. The feet Mary Magdalene washed with her tears. The feet that were pierced on the cross.

Feet that walked because of a Heart that loved.

Several weeks ago at Mass, Fr. Tim mentioned a conversation he'd overheard in a restaurant - two men discussing whatever church they attended - and how they were sick of hearing "all of this stuff about love" - "why can't they talk about the tough stuff?"... And as he recounted this story, the first thing that went through my mind (and which was voiced by him in the same moment!) - was, "but that IS the tough stuff."

And it's true. Love is hard. It's not this fluffy, fun thing that most of the world seems to believe it to be.

Love is tough. And love is a choice. It's not always easy to love the people God puts in our lives: the guy on the street corner, the coworker that's always giving us hell, or -sometimes- even the person we married, if we are so blessed. What does that teach us? Love is incomplete  - and even lacks meaning - without sacrifice.

Love was the choice that Jesus made when He willed to take on our flesh, to walk among us as man, and to suffer the worst humanity had to offer - crucifixion... in order to gain for us God's greatest good - resurrection.

The real gift of Christmas is this gift of love, along with the reminder that love is hard. Indeed, the most perfect example of love comes to us in the night at Christmas, and journeys to the cross on that dark day we call good - Good Friday. (And darkness gives way to Light in both cases!) 

And so, we rejoice! Knowing the choice made by God, in love, for love of His people - to be born in time. God-made-man... Love-made-man. May He be born in our lives this Christmas - and may we share the joy of that love with a world that has forgotten what true love truly means. "Pour forth, we beseech you, O Lord, your grace into our hearts..."

+ Peace, good, and Feliz Navidad! 

advent: it's about more than Christmas shopping

Have you thought about Advent lately? Really thought about it?

Most of you who read this blog probably have given Advent quite a bit of thought... but even considering that, it's worth the discussion.

But, let's gut-check this, for a laugh, if nothing else.

Is Advent:

- the weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas, during which, anticipating the advent of piles of presents under the tree, and copious amounts of food at Christmas dinner, we run around the mall and grocery store like headless (and uncharitable) chickens, getting every last good deal we can?

-or-

- the time marked out by the four Sundays prior to Christmas, during which we anticipate the advent of God-made-man?

The correct answer is fairly obvious, but for anyone who might not be sure, it's NOT the first one!

I think Advent and Lent have some interesting parallels. Both recognize the need to prepare for very certain transitions: Advent, preparing for the coming of Christ into our temporal world, and Lent, preparing for Christ's death and resurrection... preparing for Christ's return to the non-temporal.

During Lent, we always talk about "giving things up." We usually don't talk about that during Advent, but maybe we should. It might help to remedy some of the vicious buy-buy-buy consumerism that has largely overwhelmed the Advent season in our culture, and it would certainly help us focus on what's really important.

Which isn't how many Furbies are left on the shelf at Wal-Mart.
Or how many Christmas cookies you can gorge yourself on at the office Christmas party.
Or gossiping about how many Christmas cookies your coworkers just gorged themselves on at said party.

No, I'm not saying you should give up dessert at the next Christmas party you attend... although, given the incessant gluttony that has come to be associated with such festive occasions, it might be a sacrifice worth considering (I know this is true where I spend my work days). ;-)

But really, what we should think about (in my humble opinion) is about is not so much giving up dessert... but giving up ourselves instead.

Mary offered herself up to bring the Christ child into the world - to bring salvation to mankind.

What if we think about offering ourselves up (though obviously not quite the same way Mary did!) - to bring the light of Christ into the world? Every year when we celebrate Christmas, we are, of course, celebrating the birth of Jesus - but we're also celebrating the fact that, just as Mary was the God-bearer, we who call ourselves Christian are called to be God-bearers, too.

I am reminded of one of the invocations used at the distribution of ashes on Ash Wednesday - "Turn away from sin and be faithful to the Gospel."

What can we turn away from this Advent - whether sin, or simply things we don't really need - in order to bring the light of Christ to the world? Only a week and a half into Advent, it's not too late to figure it out, and get going.

+peace and good.

my graceless heart...

"And I am done with my graceless heart, so tonight I'm gonna rip it out and then restart..." 

-Florence + The Machine, "Shake It Out"

I could blog for ages with quotes from Florence + The Machine; many of their lyrics speak to so many things I feel or have felt.  But this particular song says more than I can alone.  

Yes. I am done with my graceless heart.

In August, I fell into a storm that I mentioned in my last post. The particulars don't matter here, but what does matter is that someone I trusted, someone I cared for, betrayed that trust and that care - and crossed a boundary. And no, it wasn't what they did. It was what they said.

And what they said launched me into a storm that has raged ever since. Yes, I was probably on an edge before it happened, and that was effectively my breaking point. Sure. In retrospect, I can see that was true. But it doesn't change what happened.

Unfortunately, it also doesn't change my response - which was not what it should've been. I didn't hold on as tightly as I should have in that storm. I was knocked off my equilibrium, and I didn't stick around to fight for it. I got distracted, and let myself be pulled away from what I should have been focused on. And really, in a certain sense, I let go. Spiritually, I failed. I failed in the commitments I've made to the God I have claimed to love and feebly attempted to serve. My prayer life went to hell. I've been angry, and ultimately, I've been drawn in on myself - and as I was reminded at Mass last Sunday, that's exactly what sin does - it draws us into ourselves - it keeps us from loving others the way we should, keeps us from serving God the way we should.

In any case, I went to Confession this afternoon.

I needed it. Badly. Because I am done with my graceless heart. This afternoon, I ripped it out, so I could restart.

I know it won't go the way I want it to, the way I try to plan it. I have been reminded, and will have to keep reminding myself, that's okay. I've long known that my plans mean nothing, even though I continue to try and make them - I'm happy to let God laugh at me. :) I'll still fall flat on my face at some point, I'm sure. I always do. The point is to get up and get going again, and not end up half-drowned (or worse), like I was by the time I got pulled out.

So maybe, just maybe, this time I'll hang on a little tighter, maybe I'll remember that "it's hard to dance with a devil on your back - so shake him off!"

This life is beautiful, but God, it's hard. And it's even harder to follow God the way we're called to. But I'm here for the fight, I'm here to stay.

I am done with my graceless heart. And in restarting, I find myself praying once more with St. Francis, "Most high, glorious God, illumine the darkness of my heart... "

It's always darkest before the dawn. 

storms

October 29. It had been nearly a year.

Nearly a year since she’d found herself on the edge of unbelief. She’d known her part… and then found it meant nothing, because that part had lacked love, had lacked heart.

“Far off hymns and funeral marches, sound the same again… my ears are worn and weary strangers, in a strange land, and I need a new song, yeah, I need a new song… And all I am is breath and vapor and shadow, and all I have is what I need, this I know… that I need a new song… yeah, I need a new song…” (Audrey Assad, "New Song")

She found a new song – and with it came incredible journeys she still didn’t understand. Maybe she never would. Not in this life, at least.

And then, in the midst of one of those journeys, a storm hit – nowhere near hurricane grade, but enough to knock her out of equilibrium. She’d found difficulty in weathering the storm, and spent several weeks reeling, trying to hold on, trying to keep her head above water, and just when she was ready to let go and slip beneath the waves, a stronger hand pulled her back. She was ashamed of her failures in weathering the storm so poorly, but at least ready to start moving forward again.

It’s a learning process, she reminded herself. Learning to love past emotion, and learning to keep the faith, even in the dark.

+Peace and good.

Prayers for all of my friends in the midst of the hurricane on the East Coast – may God’s protection be with you!

peace and good: St. Francis of Assisi

"Most high, glorious God, illumine the darkness of my heart..."

St. Francis was much more than a half-bald (as he is typically depicted in backyard bird baths) holy man who wore sackcloth, talked to birds, and tamed wolves. He was born to a wealthy merchant, and grew up living the carefree existence of a wealthy young man. After experiencing a major conversion during a serious illness, he gave up that carefree existence and severed his connections to his family and their wealth. He moved beyond existence, to life - a life lived in radical abandonment to the will of God, in service to the "least of these" - the lepers, the poor - and in bringing the Gospel to every living creature he could find.

Yes, this included birds and other animals, and many such stories about St. Francis were recorded in his lifetime. His respect for all of God's creation led to his being proclaimed patron saint of animals, and ecology, and this image of Francis is the most immortalized in popular culture today. It's a wonderful image, and I love the St. Francis birdbaths just like everyone else does, but I think it's rather unfortunate that so few people know "the rest of the story."

Francis embraced poverty - giving up all wealth, caring for lepers, begging for alms. He embraced the suffering that accompanied his poverty and asceticism - with joy and peace. He struggled, to be sure, but he never let any struggle separate him from God.

He preached the love of Christ through his rule of life - even more than by the words that came from his mouth.
Thinking about words, though: St. Francis was known to greet people with the words "pace e bene" - the Italian translates as "peace and good" - and has become a Franciscan greeting, of sorts. If you've been hanging around here much, you've noticed that I use it in closing my blog posts - I love what those words convey.

So, in that spirit: peace and good, friends. May our prayer echo that of St. Francis - that God will illumine the darkness of our hearts - so we may truly consider the depth of love found in the sacrifice of Christ.

almost october.

"Whoever you are, 

whatever the circumstances may be, 

you are not forgotten. 

No matter how dark your days may seem, 

no matter how insignificant you may feel, 

no matter how overshadowed you think you may be, 

your Heavenly Father has not forgotten you. 

In fact, he loves you with an infinite love. 

Just think of it!

You are known and remembered by the most majestic, powerful, 

and glorious being of the universe.

You are loved by the King of infinite space and everlasting time. 

He who created the stars knows your name."

-Dieter F. Uchtdorf

Yeah. It's been awhile since I've been here. On this blog. But I'm back, albeit probably not on the almost daily basis I used to maintain. It is what it is...

Unbelievably, Monday is October 1st, and I am struck by how quickly this year has gone, how much has happened, how much has changed. Life is crazy, life is hard, but life is beautiful - and it really is all of these things simultaneously. Perhaps that's why the passage above spoke volumes to me when I first read it... it gives voice to the difficulties we encounter, the emotions we feel, as well as the hope that exists for us, and should exist within us.

He who created the stars knows your name. 

He who created the stars knows our names, knows our struggles, knows our failings, and loves us still.

That's all I've got tonight.
+Peace and good.

signs of fall

The evening air that carried the smell of roasting green chile earlier in the day is developing a chill. Mornings are becoming cool enough to require a long-sleeved shirt for running; evening walks require me to carry a sweatshirt, even if I don't actually put it on.

And of course, yesterday morning brought the first edition of ESPN College GameDay of the 2012 football season. College football. Oh. Yeah. Baby. We'll talk about teams later... it's a very confused situation, between my first alma mater, the University of New Mexico, my second alma mater, the University of Florida, and my family's devotion to the University of Notre Dame... for now, I'll just say I'm glad all three won their season openers yesterday.

Yes, fall is upon us... or at least, it's nearby. And since everyone is Facebook-status-updating or blogging about fall today, I guess I might as well join the party.

And I love fall. Summer and fall are my favorite seasons. With all its colors and flavors, fall in New Mexico is an event - but at the moment, it's an event I don't feel quite ready for. It feels really weird to type those words, because I've felt that crisp tinge in the air signaling fall's arrival, and I recognize that yes, it's time for the season to change. And while I'm ready for the green chile (been peeling fresh roasted Hatch green today), I like running in cooler air, and I'm ready for the evenings that actually do require a sweatshirt, I haven't finished letting summer go, and I'm REALLY not ready for the days to get shorter. I crave daylight.

So aside from the obvious: I'd be a terrible vampire, and I'd suck at living in Seattle, it's a good thing I have 20 "official" days of summer left. I'm not done with summer, even if summer is done with me. I'm sure that by the time September 22 rolls around, we'll have reached an agreement to be apart until next year, but I'm noooooooootttttt quiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitttttte there yet.

On the flip side, I'm grateful for the fact that, unlike so many things in life, this isn't going to be a "snap" transition. And, it makes me consider how God prepares us for what's next, even when we don't recognize it.

+Peace and good.

And a photo shout-out to my second alma mater, the University of Florida. You have no idea how much I'd love to see a game in this stadium this fall - my first football season as an alumnus.
"Florida, our Alma Mater, thy glorious name we praise, all thy loyal sons and daughters, a joyous song shall raise…"

Go Gators!

martyr of charity: St. Maximilian Kolbe

If you go to Mass on August 14, you either go in the evening, for the Vigil Mass for the feast of the Assumption, or in the morning, for the feast of St. Maximilian Maria Kolbe (or maybe you attend both!). And if you go in the morning, you generally have a reason - you're either a daily Mass-goer - or you have a connection to St. Maximilian.

I took St. Maximilian's name at my confirmation. Yes, I am a girl, and yes, I took a male saint's name at Confirmation - no, it's not a big deal. In any case, when I was still in school, I found August 14 to be a bit of a frustrating day, Mass-wise. I always wanted to attend Mass on his feast day, but... well... being at school in the morning kind of tended to interfere with such things. These days, things are more flexible, and it's usually a bit easier to make it to Mass in the morning on August 14. Today, however... wasn't one of those days... I got stuck in a meeting and sadly, didn't escape its clutches quickly enough to get to Mass.

St. Maximilian Kolbe. As a child, Mary appeared to him and offered him two crowns: one white, symbolizing purity, the other red, symbolizing martyrdom. He accepted both. He went on to become a Franciscan priest (giving up his baptismal name, Raymond, for his religious name, Maximilian Maria), and later, a Holocaust martyr. St. Maximilian was Polish, and during WWII, he offered refuge to fellow Poles fleeing Nazi persecution - including 2000 Jews, whom he hid in his monastery. Eventually, the Nazis arrested him and his fellow Franciscans, and he was taken to Auschwitz. St. Maximilian died there on August 14, 1941 - having offered his life in the place of a husband and father - and having spent the final two weeks of his life suffering in a starvation bunker, where he helped to calm his fellow prisoners, leading them in prayer, and helping them prepare for their imminent deaths. At St. Maximilian's canonization in October 1982, Blessed Pope John Paul II named him a "martyr of charity" for his sacrifice.

Peace, courage, steadfast faith, and love, even in the face of terrible persecution - incredible storms. Would that we might have even a fraction of St. Maximilian's heroic virtue. I chose St. Maximilian as my Confirmation saint eleven years ago because I admired his martyrdom, and his love of Christ. Today, I not only admire his martyrdom and his love of Christ, but what it took for him to get to that martyrdom - his love of Christ, manifested in incredible love for Christ's people - incredible courage to endure such suffering - undying peace and faith in bearing all of it. Incredible response to incredible grace. Yes, would that we might have even a fraction of this martyr's virtue.

"For Jesus Christ I am prepared to suffer still more." - St. Maximilian Maria Kolbe

+St. Maximilian, pray for us!

when it rains, it pours

Monsoon season in the desert. It's an interesting phenomenon. If you don't pay attention to the clouds building over the Sandias, late afternoon storms will sneak up on you... rain sweeps across the valley, leaving half-flooded streets and soaked cyclists seeking shelter from lightning in its wake.

One of those late afternoon storms sneaked up on me yesterday afternoon, as I was writing this post. The thunder was loud, and the lightning spectacular - and nearby - so I shut down the laptop, and sat and watched the rain falling on the pool. And never got back to finishing this post.

I'd say this was coincidental, but since I don't believe in coincidence whatsoever, I can't. When the monsoon rain hit yesterday afternoon, I was actually writing about storms - geared more toward the "storms" we encounter in life - but storms, nonetheless. I've been listening to a mixed up bunch of music for the past few days that has included several songs by Train - among them, the song "When I Look to the Sky." If you're unfamiliar, it starts with the following:

"When it rains, it pours,

and opens doors that flood the floors

we thought would always keep us safe and dry -

and in the midst of sailing ships, 

we sink our lips into the ones we love that have to say goodbye -

and as I float along this ocean, 

I can feel you like an ocean that won't seem to let me go -

'Cause when I look to the sky, 

something tells me you're here with me,

and you make everything alright

When I feel like I'm lost, 

something tells me you're here with me,

And I can always find my way when you are here."

Storms push our limits, and sometimes they push us off our path. Whether it's navigating home through flooded streets, seeking shelter from a lightning storm, saving the blog post in progress and not getting back to it, having the clothes dryer die on Sunday morning, or whatever else... we get distracted, we get frustrated, we start to bend, or maybe feel like we're going to break.

Sometimes we don't "look to the sky" - we forget that even when everything around us is flooding, even the places or relationships we never thought would flood, we aren't lost. We can still find our way. I know the songwriter didn't intend for the "you" in this song to be God, but taking that perspective on the words definitely works - God is like that ocean that won't let us go, who always guides us on our way. He may not "make everything alright" in the sense that he may not change a situation the way we want him to - but he will always give us what we need to get through - really, to grow through... just like plants thirsty for water grow after the rains come.

It does seem like, more often than not, when it rains, it really does pour - whether during monsoon season or in the seasons of life. And it's hard to keep perspective when you feel like your very roots may get washed out from underneath you, but it's more than worth the effort to hang on through the storm. I know it's cliche, but it's also true: sometimes we have to learn to dance in the rain - and for New Mexicans, we either learn to dance in the rain, or we drown in the arroyo. ;-)

+Peace and good, and thank God for the rain!

derailed

Sometimes, things in our lives get derailed by storms - whether literal or figurative. 

And yeahhhhh... that happened with the post I was writing tonight. A nice monsoon storm with some not-so-nice lightning came along, so I shut down the laptop, thinking I'd finish the post later...  mmhmm, not so much! 

Tomorrow, I will finish that post... and hopefully, it'll be worth the wait for all of us. 

+Peace and good. 

grains of wheat

Tertullian famously observed, "the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church." I believe there is great truth in his words - the most convincing of all arguments for a way of life/system of belief is the dedication of its adherents. Willingness to sacrifice one's life for one's beliefs is the ultimate show of "dedication," if you will. There is no doubt of the power found in the witness of suffering and sacrifice.

Tertullian's words are closely tied to those of Christ, in today's Gospel reading (Jn 12:24-26):

"Jesus said to his disciples:

'Amen, amen, I say to you,

unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies,

it remains just a grain of wheat;

but if it dies, it produces much fruit.'"

St. Lawrence, whose feast is today, was one of these grains of wheat - a martyr of the early Church. And of course, there have been many, many more throughout the centuries - all of the apostles except St. John, and in recent times, St. Edith Stein (yesterday's post), St. Maximilian Kolbe (coming up next week...), Blessed Miguel Pro, and countless others, known and unknown. 

The majority of us will likely not be called upon to give our lives for what we believe (although the 20th century did produce more Christian martyrs than all other centuries of Christianity combined - a rather sobering thought) the martyrs are important examples to consider when we think about making sacrifices and standing up for what we profess to believe. In a very real sense, we should seek to see ourselves as those grains of wheat.

+Peace and good. 

tempus fugit//memento mori

It's August 9. How is that possible? How is it that this summer - really, this entire year - has gone so quickly? Back in May, I was thinking about all the things I wanted to do this summer. We won't talk about how many of them I haven't done... but isn't that always how it goes?

The Latin phrase tempus fugit - "time flies" - is often joined with memento mori - "remember death." To us, the time we have never seems to be enough, does it? ... whether it's the impending end of summer, or the end of our lives.

How much do we focus on the time we have being not enough... vs. the time God gives us being exactly enough - exactly what we need to accomplish what is asked of us?

Considering the passage of time: today marks 70 years since the execution of St. Edith Stein - also known as St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross - in the concentration camp at Auschwitz. For those who are unfamiliar, St. Edith Stein was Jewish by heritage and upbringing, but abandoned the Judaism of her youth for atheism as a teenager. Several years later, she returned to faith in God, then converted to Catholicism, and eventually joined a Carmelite monastery.

As a Jewish convert to Catholicism, she was a twofold target of the Nazis, and the Carmelite order tried to protect her by moving her to a monastery in the Netherlands. However, when the Dutch bishops openly condemned the racist activities of the Nazis, government officials in the Netherlands who were Nazi sympathizers retaliated, and had all Jewish converts to Catholicism arrested. St. Edith Stein was among them. A short time later, on August 9, 1942, she and her sister (also a convert to Catholicism), were executed in the gas chambers at Auschwitz. St. Edith Stein was 50 years old.

To some, 50 years seems like a very long time. To others, (perhaps those who understand their mortality a bit better), 50 years is virtually the blink of an eye. Either way, long or short, 50 years was what St. Edith was given, and what she made the most of.

Tempus fugit, memento mori is a dual reminder... that time flies, and thus we must be mindful of our mortality, as we don't know how much of that fleeting time we have. It's a reminder that, in the time we have, the world we live in - as St. Edith Stein said - "does not simply need what we have. It needs what we are."

+Peace and good.

building up Zion

"The Lord will build up Zion again, and appear in all his glory." Ps. 102

Tonight, I am reminded yet again of God's constant action in his Church. Earlier in the evening, I was blessed to spend time with the Archdiocese of Santa Fe's awesome seminarians (and take their group photo!). There is no doubt... this Archdiocese is blessed beyond measure, and our Lord is calling many good men to serve as priests here in the coming years, alongside the many wonderful priests we are already blessed with. Our Lord is forever renewing his Church - building up Zion - providing for the future. This archdiocese has certainly faced its share of challenges; having over 30 men studying for the priesthood this year is proof positive that God does not abandon us, and always provides for our needs.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: pray for vocations - pray for our seminarians - pray for our priests.

+Peace and good.

y todos los santos

Here it is, Sunday night nearly midnight (and probably will be after midnight by the time I finish this)... I have no idea where the weekend went, and I know full well that 5:00 a.m. is going to come much too soon. But in any case...

We went to the Spanish Mass this morning. Although I am by no means fluent en Espanol, I love bilingual liturgies - in part because I spent several happy childhood years in a parish where the choir mostly sang Spanish hymns. Anyways, as I was listening to the Eucharistic Prayer in Spanish - this morning, for whatever reason, the words "y todos los santos" - "and all the saints" stuck in my head - and they stayed stuck there for the rest of the day. I don't know why. I love that phrase in Spanish, I think it sounds much more beautiful than it does in English, but today, it seemed to be about more than the beauty of the words.

Yesterday was the feast of St. John Vianney, and I had intended to blog about his feast day, but because the past few days have been so busy, I missed the opportunity. I was thinking about that tonight, and thinking about how St. John Vianney is another one of my "favorite" saints. And I thought to myself, well, I think all of the saints are my favorite saints... you know what I mean? All of the saints - todos los santos - are wonderful - and they're all very different, too - so diverse in their paths to holiness, so diverse in their backgrounds and experiences. I've never "met" a saint I didn't like. And still, they all hold different meanings for me - they have different ways of being important in my life.

And it made me think: the saints are another one of God's wonderful ways of reminding us that he is working in our world, and working in human lives, in powerful and amazing ways - all the time. And if he did such great things in the lives of all the saints - who were all so different, and struggled with so many different challenges, just like we do - well, then he can do great things in our lives, too.

Todos los santos... all the saints. May they pray for us. And may we recognize, through their many examples, that each of us has a different path to holiness.

+Peace and good.

wish you were here

"So you think, so you think you can tell

Heaven from Hell

Blue skies from pain

Can you tell a green field

From a cold steel rail?

A smile from a veil?

Do you think you can tell? 

Did they get you to trade

Your heroes for ghosts?

Hot ashes for trees?

Hot air for a cool breeze?

Cold comfort for change?

And did you exchange

A walk on part in a war

For a lead role in a cage?

How I wish, how I wish you were here..."

-Pink Floyd, Wish You Were Here

Don't listen to the ones who want you to trade your heroes for ghosts, your God for superstitions or sheer nothingness. 

Don't let them destroy the verdant forests in your soul by setting the trees ablaze with lies. 

More than anything, don't stop fighting. You have more than "a walk on part" in this war. 

Never stop fighting. 

Please don't give up your place on the front lines and end up a prisoner. 

Fight for heaven, fight for those blue skies and cool breezes, fight to keep smiling, fight to keep living. Whatever you do, keep fighting. Hold on to hope, hold on to faith, hold on to love, and don't let go. 

Remember that even when you are in pain, that pain does not define you - it is not who you are. Don't give in when it tempts you to despair. 

Stay strong, so you can be here, for all those who wish you were. 

+Peace and good.

ad maiorem Dei gloriam

Recently, my coworkers and I have had a string of days that are rather... more stressful than usual. Today was another one of those days. Partway through the day, I found myself praying to St. Ignatius of Loyola - whose feast day is today, July 31. Though he isn't one of the patron saints of scientists, he was a brilliant AND holy man, and he did found the Jesuit order, which is of course renowned for its work in education. But I wasn't asking for his help today simply because he was an exceptionally smart dude who founded a great religious order that has been shaping minds all over the world for a few hundred years. ;-)

No, it was really because, in addition to founding the Jesuit order, St. Ignatius gave the order its motto - ad maiorem Dei gloriam - "for the greater glory of God." I've written about this before (well... here, too), but tonight I need to write about it again, perhaps mostly because I need the reminder. St. Ignatius believed that, so long as we are not working for evil, our work is good - and basically, ordered toward our salvation if we work with the ultimate aim of bringing glory to God. How hard is it to actually put that into practice?!?!?!!! By my estimation, it's definitely easier some days than others. 

Today was one of those "others," and I certainly struggled to put ad maiorem Dei gloriam into practice. 

So here's to tomorrow. St. Ignatius, pray for us. 

+Peace and good. 

if God will send His angels...

"God's got his phone off the hook, babe

Would he even pick up if he could?

It's been a while since we saw that Child

Hanging 'round this neighborhood...

If God will send his angels,

And if God will send a sign,

And if God will send his angels,

Would everything be alright?"

- U2, "If God Will Send His Angels"

Do you know what it's like to feel like "God's got his phone off the hook"... to feel like it's been a while since you've "seen" God hanging around your neighborhood? To at least some extent, most (if not all?) of us have been there. On that edge between despair and hope, unsure of whether there was actually something worth hoping for? Maybe you've flirted with despair. Maybe you actually spent time with despair. Maybe you're spending time with despair now.

Whatever the case, consider this: despair is the easy way out. It doesn't require much effort other than our giving into it. Hope is hard - it requires effort, will, and trust - and true supernatural hope (not optimism - because optimism and hope are very different things) is backed up by faith. Of course, faith's not easy for most of us, either, because we go from emotion to emotion, trusting our feelings more than we trust our God.

And it seems like we who claim some kind of faith are often looking for God to send us a sign - some kind of extra assurance that our hope is not misplaced, that everything will be okay, that we are doing the right thing, etc., etc.... Yes, I do this sometimes, too - you're not alone. ;-)  However, we can't, and shouldn't, rely on these "signs" constantly. We need to remember - and I have to remind myself of this frequently - that God is working within us - signs or no signs, feelings or no feelings - whether we feel like he's picking up the phone or not.

Sunday evening

Well, it's been a few - busy - days. The long and short of it are mixed up in between spending time with the family, photographing a wedding, hanging out in Santa Fe at the Spanish Market, and some miscellany around those things.

All in all, a good weekend, but not really a relaxing one. That's not a complaint, it's just a statement. I have a lot of things many other people, including many in my community, don't have. Things like health (which I don't suppose is really a "thing" per se, but it goes on the list nonetheless), and the time and resources to spend time doing things I enjoy with people I enjoy being around. Not everyone is so fortunate. I am grateful to be so blessed.

Hopefully, I'll still remember that tomorrow morning at work! :-P

+Peace and good.

balance

"Better one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere." (Ps. 84:11)

It's easy to lose sight of balance in life sometimes, between the demands of work and home and everything in between. It can be hard to remain cognizant of reaching our limits, and knowing when to "retreat" - when to take a step or two back, a deep breath, and a quick reality check.

Some weeks make that harder than others. This has been one of them. When I finally got to the last meeting of the day, I had to pause and just breathe for a minute - and remind myself that there are more important things beyond the walls of that building... that even though there is merit in the work I do, at the end of the day, walking with God today in order to live with him eternally, is most important.

+Peace and good.

prayer intentions, and one crazy cat

Today was a Monday, to be sure. Still blessed, but still a "Monday," nonetheless. You know how those are. 

So, I'll keep it short tonight - and ask you, first of all, to join with me in prayer for some people who are very important to me: one is discerning a vocation, and a few of them are fighting some rough battles right now on many fronts, health-related and otherwise. 

As I've said before when asking for prayers, God knows their names and their intentions. The important thing is that they need those prayers, for guidance, for strength, for perseverance, for faith, for hope, for comfort, for all of those things and many others. THANK YOU!!! God bless you for your prayers. 

On a light note, when I got home this evening, one of my cats had decided it would be appropriate to lounge on the kitchen countertop. (I disagreed.) Crazy cat. 

He does this a lot... lounging, that is... wherever he can find a spot, and he ALWAYS poses like he's auditioning for the cover of feline GQ magazine or something like that. Like I said, crazy cat. It's become quite a joke in our house. 

Anyway, back to the point. This evening, he'd decided the countertop was the perfect place to lounge this evening, and welllllllllll, I admit, I couldn't help myself, so I grabbed a camera before "encouraging" him to get down. Hopefully, you'll get a laugh out of what resulted after a trip through Photoshop to add words.

He is... the most interesting cat in the world. ;-) 

shepherds

Today, I am finally (yes, FINALLY) back to editing photos from the Ordination Mass in May. That's right, I'm still not done - but I'm much closer than I was yesterday! In case you're wondering, this is what happens when your day job decides to dominate your life.

Apparently, it's no coincidence that I planned to edit ordination photos today. Priestly vocations are all about God's call to shepherd his people - and today's psalm response at Mass was Psalm 23... "the Lord is my shepherd..." - and in case you're wondering, no, I didn't know that when I was planning to spend the day editing ordination pics.
It got me thinking.

For those of us who are Catholic, what do we call the priests who lead our parishes? Pastors.

Have you ever considered the root of the word pastor, and what it means? If you know Latin, or one of the Latin-derived Romance languages, you know that the word shepherd is translated as pastor (Latin and Spanish), or pastore (Italian). When we refer to a priest as the pastor of a parish, we are literally saying he is the shepherd of that faith community.

Good shepherds know their sheep, their needs and difficulties; they care for, and lead, their flocks.

I have known many such good shepherds - wonderful priests - in the faith communities I've been blessed to be part of in my life; I also know that to continue sustaining these communities, we need more men willing to respond to God's call in a spirit of counter-cultural love, faith, and self-sacrifice.

We need to pray for vocations. This is not optional. We need to pray for the priests who shepherd us today - for their faith, holiness, and strength - and we need to pray for many more of these good shepherds to lead us in the future, including those currently in formation. We need them to continue to do God's good work in bringing to us the light of the Word and the Eucharist.

+Peace and good.

peace and evil

"If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other." - Blessed Mother Teresa


I think we all know that there is plenty of evil in the world. It's an endless topic of discussion and debate. The most unfortunate thing about all this discussion is that all too often, it's just talk, about another one of those things that is easy to armchair quarterback. We can talk about evil and unrest, and lament the lack of good and peace in our world, but what can we actually do about it?

This discussion has spiked again today with the shooting of theater patrons at a midnight showing of "The Dark Knight Rises" in Aurora, CO.

The first thing we need to do is pray for the victims and their families. If you don't pray in the "traditional" sense, do whatever it is you do in these situations - keep them in your thoughts, etc.

The next thing I think we need to do is reflect on the true meaning of peace: in our world, in our families, and in our own hearts. The Greek word for peace does not express peace as meaning that nothing is wrong in our lives, or even that there is no evil in the world. Rather, it is essentially an expression of wholeness or completeness that remains unshaken by circumstance. Peace comes from rightly ordered, just relationships - with God, and with each other - because we cannot be whole persons without being in right relationship with God, or one another. There will not be peace in this world until these right and just relationships are developed among all people in all nations.

For we who are Christian, peace is indeed a fruit of God's work in our lives (that enables those "right relationships") - as well as a recognition of the fact that we are ultimately in control of our actions - we choose our responses to the circumstances life presents us. Some of the most peaceful people I have known in my life have been those who have faced great hardships, illnesses, or other adversity - and yet they remained unshaken. When the order that comes from those right relationships is present in our lives, we, too, are able to remain unshaken and at peace, even in the midst of evil - confident in the knowledge that everything is in its place. Kind of like how God draws straight with lines we think are crooked.

Pray for peace, and strive for it in your own life. When we live in peace, we can do good, and good will overcome evil. If we want peace in this world, and among our family and friends, we have to start with ourselves.

+Peace and good.

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, 

and let perpetual light shine upon them. 

May the souls of the faithful departed, 

through the mercy of God, rest in peace. 

Amen. 

level paths

"The way of the just is smooth;

the path of the just you make level.

Yes, for your way and your judgments, 

O LORD, we look to you;

Your name and your title

are the desire of our souls.

My soul yearns for you in the night,

yes, my spirit within me keeps vigil for you...

O LORD, you mete out peace to us,

for it is you who have accomplished all we have done."

(Isaiah 26:7-9,12)

God draws straight with crooked lines... the same way he makes "the path of the just" level... by continuing to order our days in the way they should go. 

That level path doesn't always seem level to us, though, does it? More often than not, it at least looks rocky, if not downright treacherous - strewn with all manner of sharp rocks, deep holes, and debris. But at the end of it all, Isaiah has it right - "for your way and your judgments, O Lord, we look to you" - God's idea of level is not our idea of level - his idea of perfection is not our idea of perfection. God's ways are not always our ways. We look to him for his way of making things "level" or "perfect" - not for our own gratification. 

Isn't it true that our restlessness, our wanderings, even our discontents, are born from our need for that level path - the need of our souls to be fulfilled by the perfection of God? Yet in the dark night that is this life we lead, God's way... his idea of level, his idea of perfection... so often seems obscured from our view. In our longing for fulfillment, our yearnings in these nights, and through our many failings, it is difficult to keep vigil for the Lord, and easy to lose the peace he offers us... until we are brought back to the realization that indeed, he brings us peace when we let him in to do his good work in our lives - to make our paths level... because he has "accomplished all we have done."

+Peace and good. 

belief, trust, love.

Belief is hard. 
If you believe in God, odds are you have firsthand experience with how difficult it can be to keep believing, to keep the faith, when it would be much easier to give it up.


Trust is harder. 
If believing in a God you cannot see is hard, trusting that he knows what he's doing can be even harder. Trusting that he knows what he's doing when your life seems to be falling down around you, or your friends' lives are falling down around them - or when you look at the state of the world and wonder where God is in it all. Trusting that why things happen isn't always something we can understand right away, or trusting that sometimes the "why" isn't really that important. 


Love is hardest. (I think.) 
Far too many people who claim belief in God live in fear of the God in whom they believe. That's not to say we shouldn't be mindful of God's justice - but only relating to God in fear is no way to build a relationship with him. Love is paramount - the crucifix should remind us of sacrificial love - the love Christ has for us, the love we (hopefully!) have for him, and the love we come to have for all people by seeing him in each person we meet. Love takes our belief in God and our trust in his goodness, and puts them in action.


Belief... trust... love. These things are not trivial, and they're not easy. It would be easier to think God was a figment of our imaginations, that religion is worthless, that this universe is one giant cosmic accident, and that there are no reasons for the things that happen to us. And yes, it is easier to walk through life seeing people for their failings and flaws instead of first seeing them as loved children of God who aren't that different from us at the end of the day.


And no matter where we are in belief, trust, or love, we're all struggling - whether we're struggling to move forward, or simply struggling to hold our ground and keep from sliding back. No matter where we're at, it can be difficult to recognize that God is at work in our lives, even when it's not obvious to us. 


In that vein, there are several people in my life who are currently going through extremely difficult times - things that are absolutely testing their belief, trust, and love. The details are as complex for each of them as they are irrelevant here. God knows their needs - please pray for them. 


+Peace and good. 

July 16, 1945

“If the radiance of a thousand suns were to burst at once into the sky, that would be like the splendor of the mighty one. Now I am become Death, destroyer of worlds.”

- Dr. Robert Oppenheimer, quoting the Bhagavad Gita at the Trinity Site after the explosion of the first nuclear bomb, July 16, 1945

Today marks the 67th anniversary of the testing of the world's first nuclear device at the Trinity Site in southern New Mexico. The dawn of the nuclear age. The beginning of the end of World War II. 


Nuclear weapons have become a sort of "scourge of the age," if you will - the ultimate deterrent, the ultimate threat. The advances in science and technology that occurred as a result of the nuclear age led (directly or indirectly) to many of the technologies we enjoy today, but that isn't to say the cost has not been steep. That price includes the fact that today, we do not necessarily fear for our safety from, say, Russian nuclear weapons - but instead, we fear for our safety from "dirty bombs," or nukes stolen from another country, and used against us in acts of terrorism. 


I absolutely support our nuclear deterrent. I also believe that when we open a kind of Pandora's box, like that of nuclear weapons, we have an obligation to safeguard the contents of said box. If we don't, bad things like nuclear black markets flourish, and we put not only ourselves, but the whole world at risk. (If you're interested in learning about what happened when the nuclear black market was in its heyday, I would encourage you to read the book The Nuclear Jihadist). Should we fail in this vigilance, it is then that we will indeed "become Death, the destroyer of worlds," as Oppenheimer recognized in the first display of atomic power 67 years ago today.  


So yes, I support our nuclear deterrent. And yes, I pray for peace, and that our nuclear deterrent remains precisely that - a deterrent - and not a spectacular demonstration of force. We must remember our past - we know precisely what these weapons can do - and consider the future we want for ourselves, our families, for humankind - and allow these things to influence our present. 


+Peace and good.