What is it to be great?

Christian mothers, like all mothers want to see their children be successful. They want to see them do well in school, to get a good job, to have a family, and to be generally satisfied in life. They want their children to be close to Jesus. To be near him at all times. This is nothing surprising for us.

The mother of James and John wants what most mother's want. She wants to see her sons succeed, and in a more particular sense she wants her sons at Jesus' side.

But there is quite a startling difference in the request of James and John's mother. They seek more than a good life or contentment. They seek to gather glory unto themselves, to be seated on Jesus' right and left, i.e. to be calling the shots alongside the Messiah in his kingdom. They want to secure positions of authority. Fundamentally, they do not understand what this new king is all about.

Jesus, picking up on this quite quickly, notes how typical rulers use their authority in such a way that it makes their subjects feel the burden of power. And then in comes Jesus' deal breaker:

It shall not be so among you.

It shall not be so among you.

Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you shall be your servant.

Jesus completely flips our conventional notions of power upside down. Nothing he is or does is what we would expect when we hear the words ruler, king, or savior. Look at his life:

He is born in a stable on the outskirts of a town.

He grows up in a family that makes their living with their own hands.

His proclamation as king is an entrance into Jerusalem, not on some majestic war horse, but a mere donkey.

He hangs out with sinners, tax collectors, and the possessed—the societal rejects of the time.

His coronation is mockery and a crown of thorns.

He was crucified as a criminal.

Some king, many scoffed and understandably so.

But this is who Jesus is. And if he really is who he says he is, and who we profess him to be, then this is who God is. This, the traveling preacher and healer who, abandoned by his closest friends, died on a tree, is what God is. And that is radical.

We talk of how incomprehensible the incarnation is, of God taking on human flesh and weakness. And yet, how often do we forget the sheer absurdity—folly to the gentiles, a stumbling block for Jews, as St. Paul says—of what this looks like? The God of all becomes a man? He comes not to praise himself, but to serve others? He dies? And this somehow glorifies the Father?

The very thing we hear James and John request is the very thing Jesus rejected when he was tempted in the desert—stability, security, and power. He does not run around flaunting his authority, telling the world how amazing he is. Instead he goes about proclaiming the kingdom of God, something which takes on flesh in feeding the hungry, freeing those wracked by evil spirits, healing sickness, reaching out to the unreachable. For what is the incarnation other than God reaching out to the unreachable, to the lost... to us? Jesus is a servant. He is the servant. He is what God wants to communicate to us each day, in each moment, in this Eucharist. He is God who is none other than Love in humble service.

The Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.

Is Racial Profiling a Reality?

The other day Fr. Steve told me about a white lady, a parishioner of his, who walked out of Queen of Peace to go to the restrooms (they're in a separate building).  In the courtyard there was a black fellow standing there, and as she got nearer to him he quickly looked down and said, "Don't worry I'm not going to kidnap you."  The lady proceeded on to her destination.

Another time Fr. Steve was walking outside and he said hello to a black man who's first reaction was "I'm not going to hurt you."  Fr. Steve paused, with a puzzled look on his face, and asked, "Why would you say that?  Why would you think that I think that you were going to put me in danger?  You're another person and you're going about your business."

And then Fr. Steve told me, "Here and many other places black men in particular are so used to being pegged by whites as violent, dangerous, or criminals, that it has so often become instinct to immediately state something like 'I am safe.  Don't worry.'  How screwed up is this?  That the first thing someone would say, based on the color of the skin of someone approaching them, would be, 'I am not a threat.  I am not going to hurt you.  I am a human being?'  Whether we like it or not, racial profiling is very real and very present in our society, and even in our parish which has been integrated for some 40 plus years.  The fear in that women's eyes as she left church, the presumption of that man that I was afraid of him, says more than you can imagine."

So I ask: why do we as a society uphold this?  Why do people feel uncomfortable walking down a street, walking on their own church property in broad day light, when there is a black man there?  Is it nothing other than racial profiling to assume that because statistically there is a disproportionate amount of black males in prison that any man of color is a threat?  Is this not wildly screwed up?

I know there are very strong feelings about the Martin and Zimmerman trial, but our president, regardless of what you think of him or regardless of your opinions on the verdict, has raised perhaps the most legitimate question concerning the case:

"And for those who -- who resist that idea, that we should think about something like these Stand Your Ground laws, I just ask people to consider, if Trayvon Martin was of age and armed, could he have stood his ground on that sidewalk? And do we actually think that he would have been justified in shooting Mr. Zimmerman, who had followed him in a car, because he felt threatened? And if the answer to that question is at least ambiguous, then it seems to me that we might want to examine those kinds of laws."

Do we really think if that had been the case that Martin would have been acquitted?  Or would he, like so many others, been judged a violent, hostile man who hated white people just because of his skin color?  That is a question no one with a conscience can ignore.


For those of you who did not see the president's full address, I highly encourage reading it:
http://www.cnn.com/2013/07/19/politics/obama-zimmerman-verdict

For those of you who may not think that racial profiling is part of the every day life for countless people, I encourage you to study and to study well the Civil Rights Movement--all that led up to it, occurred during it, and followed after the main push in the 60s until today.  I encourage you, if you ever get the opportunity, to visit the museums, the memorials, the sites of bombings, shootings, and extreme abuses of authority that have haunted our nation, particularly our Southern states in the past and very recent 50 years.  I encourage you to think of what could possibly lead someone to killing young children in a church on a Sunday morning in Birmingham.  I encourage you to question why white folks--men and women--were chased down highways, ran off roads, and shot for bringing blacks to voting registrations.  I encourage you to ask what it is that makes someone want to beat a young man--a professional with a family, an outstanding citizen--within inches of his life, then proceed to tie cinder blocks to him, and throw him off a bridge into a deep river.  I encourage you to read about the lives of the men and women, young and old, lay and cleric, black and white and everything in between, that fought nonviolently for better lives, for basic acknowledgement as citizens for blacks in our country.  I encourage you to read about those ones in particular who gave their lives so that all may have a chance at equality.

Some people wonder why many were so extremely troubled by the Supreme Court's decision to overturn aspects of the Voting Rights Acts of 1965.  To them, I say that racism, racial profiling and hatred is still very real in our country.  Why were certain states' voting procedures overseen by the federal government?  Because people were being fired, threatened, attacked, and killed when blacks tried to register to vote.  Sure, the Klan was bankrupted by a case in which they brutally murdered a black 13-year-old boy who looked at a white woman.  Sure, burning crosses and church bombings are not so much a part of our every day reality any longer.  But do we think, as an NAACP statesmen said, that just because we have elected an African-American president that racism is suddenly over?  That fear of someone based on their skin color is no longer a problem?  That seeing a black male on the street means he is going to rob or attack you?    That the fight against racial hatred is has just magically been won?

Jimmy Lee Jackson.  Shot twice in the abdomen
in February 1965 after trying to defend his mother
who had just been beaten by Alabama state
police officers.

Viola Liuzzo.  Chased down Highway 80
by four Klan Members in a truck.  As the
truck pulled aside her car, they shot her
in the head twice in March 1965.  She had
spent the week driving blacks with no
transportation to the marches.

Viola Liuzzo's car as it was found on the Selma Highway
(Highway 80)

Trips to the Hospital

Seeing someone in their final days on this earth is a rather odd experience.  Twice this week I accompanied Fr. Steve to Baptist East hospital where he was visiting one of his elderly parishioners, who after years of living in a nursing home, had just suffered from congestive heart failure and now has double pneumonia.  The first time we went was to administer the sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick.   When we arrived, she was so frail with age and the signs of a heart having given out.  Her words gargled in her throat as she mustered what little energy she could to have a few words with her pastor and then do her best to respond to some of the prayers.  I was merely observing, but it was nonetheless a powerful and even overwhelming experience.  She was still quite coherent and managed to squeak out how she "wanted to go home."

Today, when we went back, she was even weaker and more difficult to understand.  Fr. Steve slowly said a few prayers with her and afterwards talked to the nurse.  Then we parted ways.  Apparently she will soon be leaving the hospital and will return to her nursing home to die.

It is so weird being with someone who is on the brink of death.  And yet, it is such a grace-filled experience knowing that the person has someone there for spiritual support and guidance during this time.  I love the word pastor, which in Latin literally means shepherd, for that role is carried out for others even until their final breath.  The last thing she said to us, after Fr. Steve had told her that the people at Queen of Peace was praying for her, was a quiet "Thank you."  I am not sure if we will see her again before she goes to her eternal rest, but I will never forget the sound and sincerity of those two words.

What defines us?

French philosopher Rene Descartes penned one of the most famous statements in Western history: I think, therefore I am. He understood his existence in that he could use his mind, that he was cognizant. His relation to his being, his sense of self, and of all reality was wholly bound up in the fact that he could think.

But doesn't this pose some issues?

What happens when someone is not as cognizant or smart as, say, Rene Descartes?

What of someone who is severely mentally disabled?

Is the human mind, which is all too susceptible to breaking down in so many ways, really all that makes us human?

Today we heard the familiar story of Moses questioning God as to what he shall tell the people when they ask God's name. The response is quite odd:

I am who I am.

God does not give a name. God does not list some particular attributes. God does not give some sort of description that would allow for the children of Israel to craft an image to idolize.

No. God simply, and yet every so mysteriously, states: I am who I am... and then adds, tell them: I AM sent me to you.

The response is that God is the one who is. The one who exists. Not some other lesser deities, demons, or idols, but God. It also tells us two things that will set forth the story of Israel, challenging them all along the way.

1. God will not be limited by our feeble misunderstandings and attempts to grasp at divinity. When he says, I am who I am, we could almost tack on, and nothing you do can change that, nothing you can do will limit or restrict that I am or who I am.  God is not one who is possessed, but the one who possesses.  And this is a freeing action for us in that we can never fully understand God. We cannot understand the incomprehensible, and we don't have to.
2. This establishes a relationship between God and the people of Israel. Their existence as a nation—their being, if you will—is bound up in their relationship with God. God is the one who will bring them out of Egypt to make them into a people. God is the one who will thwart their enemies. God is the one who will lead them through the desert to the Promise Land. God is the one who is.

And here is the greatest challenge to Descartes' line I think, therefore I am. It is not our thought process or our mental capacities that give us being. It is God. God who IS being itself. We are not defined by I think, therefore I am. We are defined by I am who I am. Who we are is eternally bound up in who God is. Our existence is based on, nourished by, and sustained in the One Who Is.

Is this not good news for all who labor and all who are burdened: that we are not wholly self-reliant, isolated individuals depending only on our own minds and bodies, but in fact on the God of all that is? Is this not the good news, that God is our very source of life? Learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves.

A New Pastor

Yesterday was the installation service for Fr. Stan at St. Joseph's parish in Tuskegee, AL.  It was a lovely mass, presided over by the Archbishop of Mobile, Thomas Rodi.  The parishioners are all wonderfully welcoming people and you could see the excitement on all their faces at their new leader. From 1997-2003, Fr. Charlie McNeice served as the first Edmundite pastor of St. Joseph's.  The people were thrilled to have another Edmundite back.

St. Joseph's parish in Tuskegee, AL.

Interior of the Church prior to mass.

Fr. Stan receives the signs of his pastoral care of the parish.

Fr. Mike Cronogue, SSE (Superior General), parishioner,
Archbishop Thomas Rodi, Fr. Stanley Deresienski, SSE,
Deacon Stanley Maxwell. Yes, Fr. Stan has been referring
to himself and the deacon as"Stan Squared."

The Archbishop gave a homily in which he praised the past services of the Edmundites and the pastoral work Fr. Stan has already done in the diocese, and related it to the Gospel reading (the Good Samaritan).  He had a strong focus on how instead of asking who our neighbor is (as the young scribe did) which puts a limit on our love for others, but should be asking, "How can I be a neighbor to anyone in need?"

Afterwards there was a brief reception with a quite marvelous cake.  I do hold cake in quite high esteem.  Then a whole bunch of Edmundites went out to lunch with Archbishop Rodi, Deacon Stanley and his wife.  It was a lovely day.

It's always such a time of excitement when one of our brothers gets a new assignment, for both him and the people to whom he will be ministering.  Our prayers go out to Fr. Stan and the people of Tuskegee as they begin this new chapter in their journey.

How did I get here?

A few days ago Mike (my friend who left yesterday) and I were reflecting on our attitudes, ideas, worldviews, etc. from when we started out college to where we are now.  It was really incredible to hear his story of how he kind of randomly came to St. Mike's without any real idea of what he wanted to do in life, and yet his time there gave him a strong sense of direction (full-time ministry).  Now he'll be shipping off to do a year of service with the Jesuit Volunteer Corp.  When I first started at St. Mike's I was not particularly religious.  In many ways I had fallen away from the faith I had grown up with.  I initially visited by mere happenstance, when I was looking to transfer to University of Vermont and decided to visit a friend who was at St. Mike's.  Life changer right there.

Six years ago this July I drove up to Vermont with parents to sign up for classes.  On a whim I signed up for Prof. Peter Tumulty's Introduction to Philosophy course, thinking it would be a waste of time and hoping to get it out of the way.  Little did I know how this class would begin to lead me down a path I never in my wildest dreams would have expected.

I really fell in love with the all the question asking, the intellectual tradition of Catholicism, and this ultimately led to me examining a lot of questions that had been mulling within my heart for a long time, not the least of which being many concerning God.  Long story short I entered the Catholic Church, and it has been a wild ride since.  Then some years later, with a desire to keep asking (or living) these sorts of questions, I applied to the Society of St. Edmund.  And now, after a year of seminary and a spur-of-the-moment decision that for some odd reason (which I still don't fully understand) I was going to come to Alabama for the summer, I am here.

It's sometimes mind boggling to think about the little narrative of my life during the last six years:
how arbitrarily choosing to visit UVM ended up with stopping by St. Mike's to see a friend, and because of that decision on a -19 degree night in January (and of course a wealth of other ones in between) I ended up here in Selma for what has been perhaps the most important Summer for my life and discernment so far.

Sometimes I get worried about the future, say 20 years down the road: what the Society of St. Edmund will look like, what St. Michael's College will look like, what the Southern Missions will look like.  Then I remember how much has changed and grown in my life in these brief six years.  I am reminded of the tremendous amount of opportunities that have been opened up to me, and often when I least expected them.  I think of all the crazy, terrifying (in the best way, of course), and beautiful things that God may or may not have dance ever so subtly into my life in the next few years.  And then I don't worry so much about where we Edmundites will be in 20 years.  Learning to trust God and to trust the process is a lifelong venture.  On I go.

Mike and me by an African carving of the Blessed Mother & Child
in the Missions House chapel.

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.  Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you.  You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.  I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back from captivity.  I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile.”  (Jeremiah 29:11-14)

Another day preaching.

Fr. Steve has me preaching once a week.  Usually I'm doing Thursdays, but this week (due to being in Mosses) I took on Wednesday's readings.  This is generally what the homily iterated:

“Turning away from them, he wept.”

The story of Joseph bears many characteristics of a great story of rivals and of countless actual interactions that are so typical of human life. There is jealousy, there is hatred, there is betrayal. There is a rise in power and prosperity, even to the point of being second only to the ruler of a great empire. There are threats, there is imprisonment, there is fear.

But something is different about this story. Despite the fact that Joseph's brothers were jealous of their father's love for him, despite the fact that they sold him into slavery and told their father he had been slain by a wild animal, despite the fact that Joseph had the power to give them life or death when they unknowingly approached him in Egypt... his reaction is not hatred. He does not seek revenge. Instead we are told the following: “Turning away from them, he wept.”

With the motion of a finger, Joseph could have had his brothers sent away with no food or even put to death. He was one of the most powerful men in the Mediterranean. He could easily have sought revenge, seething with anger and frustration... The anger and frustration he must have felt from being torn away from his beloved father, sold into slavery, brought up in an alien land, wrongfully accused and imprisoned. And yet he cannot even face them. All he can do is turn away and weep.

Literary critic Rene Girard notes that in this action God works through Joseph in a way that both humanizes him and at the same time unmasks the violent tendencies and cycles we so often enter into, when we are filled with jealousy and remorse. Joseph, instead of retaliating, responds with tears of pained love and mercy and joyfully welcomes his lost brothers to Egypt. He cannot bear to see the separation and bitterness furthered. He knows that it must end here.

All this reveals something peculiar about God and how God responds to our sinfulness.

God does not revisit our sins with wrathful indictment.

God does not desire to condemn us when we fall away from the path of righteousness.

And God does not sit there plotting our demise because we have placed something else—whether that be television, the internet, sports, or even at times our loved ones—at the center of our lives while our faith is pushed to the side.

No. God responds to our sinfulness with Christ. Christ who gives himself so fully to us that he would endure betrayal, mockery, and injustice, even unto death before he would ever abandon that love. And still Christ's response is not even primarily about our sinfulness. It is about the communication of who God is to us: one who endures in love even to and beyond death.

Did Joseph's brothers deserve harsh condemnation? By every human standard, yes. That anyone would do such things to another person is horrifying, never mind that it was to their brother. But today we hear that our idea of justice is not always God's, and that it is mercy, that it is Christ, who must take over when our justice falls short.

----------

I'm really struck by Joseph's response to his brothers and I wonder how this plays into our every day lives, especially here in Dallas County where violence and racism in particular have played such heavy rolls.  How does one respond in mercy to hate crimes?  How does one respond with compassion to murder?  How does one answer the injustices of racism with an enduring love that challenges both the hater and the hated?  And finally how do we, regardless of where we are and in what situations we find ourselves, respond to those who have betrayed us, those who have hated us, those who walk on us, in a way that communicates the undying commitment of Christ to all?

Well it's been some time, blog...

While not too much is going on at the parish this time of the year, we've managed to stay quite busy.  Last week we visited Fr. Dave Theroux in New Orleans.  As he is covering the parish for the Summer, he is there by himself, so we went down to spend some time with.  It was really a blessing and, in fact, probably the best time I've had of my three trips to the Big Easy.  Basically we just hung out, went out for dinner, went to see the Long Ranger (which was hilarious, might I add), and had prayer and mass together.  It was so simple and yet so great to see him.

Friday a very good friend of mine flew into Alabama to spend a week with us at the Southern Missions.  He's had a good overview of the parish, our community life here, some of the Southern Missions sites, and the Civil Rights movement.  Monday afternoon we went into Montgomery to see some historical places: Martin Luther King's church, the capital, the first Catholic church there, City of St. Jude, and the Civil Rights Memorial/ Southern Poverty Law Center.  Every time I go to one of the Civil Rights museums I am still blown away by all that happened.  How much senseless violence and murder there has been in the last 50 years, and just because black citizens wanted the most basic of rights: to vote.  Sometimes I kind of forget that the KKK had no qualms killing white folks who supported the Civil Rights movement, sometimes just to inflict fear.  The Montgomery memorial/ Southern Poverty Law Center, which is quite extensive, focuses primarily on the lives of 40 people who were murdered under no provocation during the Civil Rights struggle.  One thing that really struck me was the amount of security there.  There were guards outside on the street and at the entrance.  There was a full body metal detector we had to go through once we were in the building.  This is because they still get bomb threats.  Incredible.

Tomorrow we're heading into Mosses to help out with the Summer program for middle school kids.  It should be good to get back there and I'm very much looking forward to seeing Sr. Rosemary again.

On a more leisurely note, my friend and I ventured to Prattville (50 minutes away) to eat at Southern Living's top rated BBQ joint in Alabama.  It's called Jim 'n Nicks.  Let me tell you, it was incredible.  Never have I had such tender and flavorful beef brisket.  Also, hands down the best baked beans my taste buds have ever witnessed.


And now for some online literature!

Montgomery Civil Rights Memorial:
http://www.splcenter.org/civil-rights-memorial

Jim 'n Nick's:
http://www.jimnnicks.com/

Settling in

This point in any new adventure always comes: that time where everything seems to settle down into a pretty consistent groove.  The time where the novelty of a new situation has become slightly dulled.  The time where you begin to accept the reality of the situation you're in and begin to crave something new and exciting.

I've grown much more accustomed to the pace of things here: to the fact that I am a minority, to the reality that racism and poverty are not things that will just go away.  I've become much more comfortable in the parish--the new found role of Master of Ceremonies, working with finances, the excessive amounts office work, and even preaching on occasion.  This is entirely normal, and God is teaching me to grow in that.

What do I mean by this?  Well it would be quite easy to slip into a simple routine with all this: go to prayer, set up for mass, go to mass, go to the office, visit a few people, come home, pray, eat, sleep, do it all again.  And yet I am challenged to something more.  To seek God in the mundane, the everyday.  To realize that my life, no matter where I am led or what path I choose, will not be one of constant thrills.  It is here, at this very moment where everything seems to be quieting down, that I need to enter more into prayer.  There is still so much to learn and especially from the calmness and alone-ness of the day in/ day out.

One thing that has been troubling me lately is learning how to love those whom you know you will only be around for a short period of time.  How is it that I give myself to people that I will see on a regular basis for another five weeks, that is when I head back home?  This question is crucial, especially for those considering, entering, and in religious life.  The reality of my life as an Edmundite is that I will never know for sure how long I will be at any given assignment.  Life has so many unexpected turns that can change any number of things in a matter of minutes.

Fr. Steve became the Southern House superior and the president of the Southern Missions, Inc. when Fr. Mike died so suddenly.  Fr. Steve didn't expect to hold either of these positions and didn't even want them, but he took that step of faith and took up the reigns.  Things can change in a moment.

I recall Bro. Frank Hagerty telling me that when he was in a program preparing to become a retreat and spiritual director, he lamented the fact that he would only get to be in the presence of the wonderful people in the program for less than a year.  He said, "At one point I told them, 'I don't care that we only have eight or so months together, and I understand that most of us will never see each other again, but that just means I'm going to enjoy the heck out of you guys while we're together!' We did just that, and to this day, it is one of my favorite years."

Teach me, O Lord, to learn to love those whom you bring into my life and those into whose lives you bring me, be it ever so short a time or perhaps even the whole way along this venturesome pilgrimage to you.  Amen.


Off to New Orleans we go in the morn!