The Other Side of Prayer Requests

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Back on 15 April my friend and co-contributor, Rich Brewers, posted How We Respond to Prayer Requests.  His post came just two weeks after my official conversion and entry into the Church.  I admit that, subsequent to reading his thoughts, praying for others was an action for which I only had about a year’s experience.  I simply didn’t know how to pray prior to the singular event which led to my decision to become Catholic. Any prayers I might have intended to offer before this time really couldn’t be considered to be much more than best wishes. 

That event was my first Christ Renews His Parish retreat weekend.  During the weekend I had the opportunity to pray for others and be prayed over by others.  Not really knowing how to do the former, I chose to do the latter.  I had a compelling reason.  I had just returned the night before from an Easter week visit with family in Missouri.  My sister has a 14 year old daughter who is both mentally and physically handicapped.  With every visit I would leave saddened knowing that their struggles in life are incomprehensible to me, and frustrated that I didn’t know what I could do about it.  This had bothered me for a long time and, so, even though I barely knew these men, I asked them for their prayers for my niece, my sister, and for myself.  One of the men praying for me was Jim, the gentleman Rich referred to in his post.  I sat in the chair with his and other men’s hands on me and they prayed for the three of us.  In my heart I felt something happen in that chapel.  I wasn’t sure what it was but it was certainly nothing I had ever experienced before.  I was shaken.  I thought maybe it was simply the sincerity and love of these fine men.  But, I came to realize it was the Holy Spirit working through them.  It was such a powerful experience I decided to stick around and participate in the prayers for other men.  I’m not sure I can describe the feeling other than to say I found a tremendous sense of fulfillment in doing so.

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I believe one of the most difficult obstacles to asking others to pray for you is the fear of appearing weak or of lacking control.  What other obstacles might prevent you from asking someone else for their prayers for you?

Since that experience I have had several opportunities to pray for other people both with and without their requests.  I’m still not very good at it but I think I’m getting better.  I try to pay attention and learn from role models, like Jim and Rich, who make it seem so easy.  I’ve also learned that, like golf, to get better at praying you have to spend more time praying.  Thus, I usually have two or three intentions on my list at all times and I pray for them daily.  I find deep satisfaction in this.  Although I may not always see any direct results which can be attributed to my prayers, I have faith they are being heard and the intended recipient will be affected in some positive way.  And, somewhat selfishly, I find my time in prayer, even for others, allows me to get closer to Jesus.

But, there is another side to prayer requests – the side of requesting people to pray for you and your loved ones.  It’s not as easy as you might think it would be.  In many ways, it’s more difficult than responding to prayer requests from others.  Such was my case.  Up until about a month ago, I had been focused on praying for the needs of others.  I never really considered that I would have another significant reason to request their prayers.  But, then, one never expects the person whom you love the most to become ill with a disease that requires surgery and further treatment.  We discovered what a scary proposition it really is.  When we got the news, we, like many folks, thought we would keep it to ourselves.  No need to burden others with our situation, right?  We thought we might tell one or two people who ought to know.  But, then, we decided that sooner or later those one or two people would feel the need to tell someone else and eventually everyone who you didn’t want to burden would eventually learn of it anyway, or be hurt that they were the only ones who had not heard.  And, then, fortunately, we turned the table and looked at the situation from the outside in – what would we want if we were a friend or family member of the afflicted?  We realized that we would certainly want to know about it for no other reason than we love the person and would wish to pray for them and ask for Jesus’ intercession and healing.  We have a large family relatively speaking (pun intended), but our parish family of loved ones is much larger.  After realizing we could use all the requests for divine assistance we could get, we decided to let the cat out of the bag.

Have you ever found yourself in a situation seemingly out of your control and hoping for a miracle?  Have you kept it to yourself?  Or have you sought prayers from others?

Spreading news like this via word of mouth, especially through people who you know love and care about you, is a wonderful thing!  It doesn’t take long.  By the time I got around to making the official request to be added to our parish’s prayer chain, most folks already knew and had been praying for a while.  How do we know?  We can feel it.  It is the sense of peace that has come over us, the sense that everything is going to be alright, and the feeling that we are in Good Hands.  It is in the comforting smiles and the reassuring hugs.  It is a feeling borne from knowing that so many people have said rosaries, novenas, offered personal prayers, fasted and made other sacrifices on our behalf.  It is the collective, confident assurance from an entire faith community who seem to be saying they have inside information.

If you have requested others to pray for you for personal reasons, how did you feel?  Was your faith strengthened?  Were you comforted?

Thus, here we are on the eve of the prescribed surgery and I believe we could not have a more positive outlook, feel more at peace with the outcome, or more accepting that this is just a bump in the highway of life.  We know we have our immediate families and our extended parish family and friends who will all be pulling for us tomorrow.  We have faith in God and the healing power of prayer.  Please know that your love and heart-felt prayers are indeed felt and appreciated.  We love you.

God Bless you all.

Miracles and Memories

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Day four of my solo trip from Cincinnati, Ohio to Seattle, Washington

What day of the week is it?  I think today is Tuesday because I was supposed to arrive in Seattle on Monday.  I did arrive, by the way.  I suppose losing track of time could be the mark of a good vacation, one in which you lose the stress of your normal life and just enjoy the road trip, oblivious to time.

Have you ever had the opportunity to get lost from the rest of the world and lose track of time?  Not just hours, but days or weeks?

Day four (Monday) began by being awakened at 5:00 a.m. by a strange and distinctive sounding bird.  By the time I donned some clothes, crawled out of my tent and greeted the day, the make-shift rooster was gone and I didn’t hear it again.  The sky was already bright blue and cloudless.  It was the beginning of another beautiful day.  I camped at the Headwaters of the Missouri State Park.  This is the confluence point where the Madison, Jefferson and Gallatin Rivers become the Missouri River, the longest river in the U.S.  It is where, in 1805, Lewis and Clark and their Corp of Discovery had to stow their boats and take to hiking on their westward journey to the Pacific Ocean.  It must have been disheartening to look westward and see the imposing site of the Bitterroot Mountains ahead of you.  After breaking down camp I walked down a trail to the river.  At this point the Madison and Jefferson came together, slow and meandering.  They would join the Gallatin a few hundred yards downstream.  As I looked out across the water I had a vision of Meriwether Lewis looking at William Clark and asking, “Well, friend, what do you suggest we do now?”  I also had a vision of a sixteen inch Brown trout rising and taking my #18 Elk Hair Caddis fly.

Madison and Jefferson Rivers, MT

Madison and Jefferson Rivers, MT

My camp was about an hour east of Butte, Montana.  I was able to make it to Butte with fifteen minutes to spare before morning mass at St. Ann’s Parish Church.  St. Ann’s was a more modern church, at least it was probably very modern in the 1970’s when, according to my limited knowledge of architecture, it appeared to have been built.  The church building itself was cylindrical with tall white columns around the perimeter.  The interior was the familiar semi-circle with concentric pews radial to the altar.  The wall behind the altar was sculpted to appear like the Dove of Peace, the symbol of the Holy Spirit, and the outer walls exhibited very modern brass sculptures of the Stations of the Cross. 

St. Ann's Parish Church, Butte, Montana

St. Ann’s Parish Church, Butte, Montana

Arriving fifteen minutes early allowed me to catch the last couple decades of a Rosary service.  The cantor was an old woman, (emphasis on ‘old’), but with a loud, clear voice.  You could tell this wasn’t her first Rosary. After the first couple Hail Marys I couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear.  This was a special moment.  She had a practiced rhythm that modulated like a sine wave.  As she said, “and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus”, she spoke slower and slower and, keeping the same loudness, dropped about two octaves in tone.  It was beautiful and it made my day, bless her heart.  I think I will remember her for evermore as I pray the Rosary.

In my haste to get Sunday’s blog posted yesterday, I forgot to tell you about The Miracle!  So, I told you about stopping and taking the picture of the perfect and brilliant double rainbow with a backdrop of the black cloud that produced it.  And, I told you the previous day about how my cruise control on my car went out and caused all the other dashboard warning lights to go spastic.  After taking the photo of the rainbow I got back in my car, started it up and headed down the road.  When I looked down to see that I was up to the speed I wanted to be I noticed that none of the warning lights were flashing on the dash.  I turned the cruise control on and it worked!  I haven’t had a problem with it since.  I have no explanation for it.  I had stopped and restarted the car umpteen times up to this point and nothing changed.  But, after stopping to check out that rainbow of rainbows, it started working.  Coincidence?  I don’t think so!

After heading west out of Butte, the next large town was Missoula and it was time for a bio break and some lunch at a Wendy’s.  While there I got a phone call from my parents.  My mom and dad are also traveling to Seattle but taking about two weeks to get there, camping along the way.  I had not talked to them for a few days.  I learned they were only a few miles west of Missoula at a campground not two hundred yards from the interstate on the banks of the Clarks Fork River.  I hadn’t seen my folks since Easter so, when I pulled off the interstate into their campground, we had a nice but short thirty minute visit before I needed to get back on the road.  I would be seeing them again on Saturday.

The rest of the trip was uneventful but beautiful and inspiring.  The Bitterroot Mountains were sharp and majestic. I ran into a severe storm with marble sized hail in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. I marveled at the barrenness of the Columbia River Plateau west of Spokane and the enormity and depth of the Columbia River Gorge in central Washington. The lushness and unique ruggedness of the Cascade Mountains makes your jaw drop, and the view of the Seattle skyline, the Sound and islands in the distance, and the flowers – lavender, roses and dahlias, to name a few – are everywhere to be seen and enjoyed . This morning I realized that I never turned the radio on or listened to a music CD or a book on tape the whole day yesterday.  That would have been a distraction.

When was the last time you really paid attention to the beauty that lies outside your windshield?  Has it become so routine that you don’t notice the landscape anymore?

I arrived at my daughter’s at 7:57 p.m. local time, three minutes ahead of the eight o’clock arrival I had planned in my head before I left home Friday morning, another 660 miles for the day and 2,640 miles for the trip.

Visiting a new church every day and praying my way across America has been a unique, memorable, fun and spiritual experience.  It’s heartening to see there are many good and faithful Catholics out there in the world.  I feel more at peace than I have in weeks and I have a comfortable confidence that my prayers have been heard.

I want to challenge you to get out of your comfort zone and visit a new church, just for fun and for the experience.  You don’t have to go far, maybe just the next community over.  Or, purposely go to mass at your own church at a different time than normal so you can meet new people.  See how other people worship.  And, spread the Word.

Control of my own time is over.  From now until my daughter’s wedding this weekend I will be a gopher, expected to jump at anyone’s beck and call.  That’s okay, it was good while it lasted and gophering is what the father of the bride and husband of the bride’s mother is supposed to do prior to a wedding.

It may be a while until my next post.  Until then, God Bless you all.

Bolo Ties, Rosaries and Rainbows

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Day three of my solo trip from Cincinnati, Ohio to Seattle, Washington.

After a marvelous hot, home-cooked breakfast by my sister-in-law this morning, and a nice visit with everyone, I set out again on my way westward.  As I was driving out of town I passed the Cathedral of the Diocese of Rapid City and thought I should, to hold true to the last two days, pop in for Sunday mass.  But, mass was already three quarters completed and the next one wasn’t for another hour and a half.  So, I looked up other churches in town and found one who’s mass was starting in fifteen minutes and I had just enough time to get to St. Therese the Little Flower church.  I was greeted at the front door by a nice man wearing a white shirt with a blue bolo tie.  The clasp on the tie was engraved with a Knights of Columbus emblem.  The church was small, about the same size as the old church in my home parish.  There were twenty pews on both Mary’s and Joseph’s side and they were all packed!  I estimated about 350 people in attendance.  As I looked around I noticed something different – all the ushers were wearing the same white shirts with the same bolo ties, all with the K of C emblem.  Interesting.  As the mass began I noticed something else different, something different than, I think, any other church to which I’ve ever been – the entire congregation sang the hymns and spoke during the responsorial parts.  They didn’t mumble and they didn’t sing in low voices.  No, they blurted it out like they meant it!  I was awestruck.  These folks had some spirit, now, I’m telling you!  Then, as luck would have it, there was an infant boy being baptized.  I watched as the entire congregation craned their necks to be a witness to this sacrament.  When we got to the offering of peace to our neighbors, I wasn’t sure it was ever going to end.  Folks were walking across the aisle to people on the other side, down the aisle several pews to shake hands with people they knew.  It was amazing that everyone found their seats again.  By this time I was wearing a huge smile.  It was a sight to behold!  And then, to top things off, for Holy Communion, the Eucharistic ministers assembled in front of the altar and, you guessed it, they were all wearing white shirts with K of C blue bolo ties.  As intrigued as I was about it all, I was surprised, though, that there were no women involved.  I should have asked someone why.  I would have liked to hang around and talk to some of the parishioners and find out more about what I witnessed but I was afraid it would be hours before I got back on the road. One thing in particular came to mind:  the two prior days I attended huge, impressive and immaculately built cathedrals.  The congregations, however, had the typical life in them to which I have become accustomed, neither dull nor exuberant.  St. Therese the Little Flower was an unimpressive building, certainly nowhere close to a real cathedral.  But, to the men, women and children attending you could tell they considered it their cathedral.

St. Therese the Little Flower Parish Church, Rapid City, SD

St. Therese the Little Flower Parish Church, Rapid City, SD

Is mass sometimes dull for you or is it an exuberant experience?  Is there anything you can do as an individual that can improve your experience?

Somebody asked why I’m visiting a new church every day and why I’m posting about it.  Good question.  There may be many of you wondering the same thing but you’re afraid to ask. Without an answer from me, you’re free to come up with your own reasons however wrong they may be.  I do have a few reasons.  First, I find it’s easier for me to pray in church than anywhere else.  And why all the praying, you ask?  Because I know some people for whom I need to pray, with one person in particular being very special to me.  Second, I’m posting about the various churches because I find them interesting and I’m trying to hold true to the intent of this blog – to provide food for thought to other Catholics.  I travel a lot, I have my whole life.  But I know other people who have never been a hundred miles away from the town in which they were born and have never attended a church other than the one in which they were baptized. Although a Catholic mass is about the same everywhere you go, there are some slight differences in the way the mass is performed, and certainly differences between the church’s community, as I described above.  Third, I think this blogging business is kind of my way of evangelizing – maybe a way of showing others there is some pretty cool stuff in this life called Christianity, especially as a Catholic.  And, last but not least, because I can.  I’m on vacation alone with no one to tell me what to do, where to be or how fast to go.

Talk about evangelizing – I stopped in a McDonalds in Spearfish, South Dakota to use their wifi to post yesterday’s blog.  The place was crowded with teens.  Their shirts said they were a youth group from a Catholic parish somewhere in Colorado.  They had been on a mission trip to an Indian reservation in northwestern South Dakota.  As they were preparing to leave and get back on the bus, they all stood holding hands in one big circle around the interior of the restaurant and sang a hymn.  It was an awesome experience!  Even the bikers headed either to or from Sturgis were impressed.

How do you evangelize?

When you head west out of Rapid City you travel several miles through the beautiful Black Hills of both South Dakota and Wyoming.  When you come out of the Black Hills approaching Gillette, Wyoming, there’s nothing but grassy rolling hills without a tree to be seen.  There really aren’t any surprises around each bend in the road or over the next hill, the vista is about the same until you get to Buffalo at the foot of the Big Horn mountains.  Oh, that stretch of road is beautiful in its own way but it is a little boring.  I took advantage of my ennui on this stretch of road and decided to do something useful – pray the Rosary.  I had been to one family Rosary once before but this was the first time to try it on my own.  I took out my Rosary and retrieved the instruction book I brought with me and began to read what came first.  Fortunately, there aren’t many cars on the road in this part of the country and I was able to do what I needed to do without much peril to me or anyone else.  As I prayed and reflected on each of the Glorious Mysteries I felt at peace.  I wouldn’t have done this on the road back home but out here where there is less traffic and the beauty of God’s Green Earth is so evident, it was a special event.

A few miles later after I made the turn at Buffalo, Wyoming and headed for Billings, Montana, I saw a huge thunderstorm brewing in the direction I was heading.  It had the massive ‘anvil’ of one that could produce some large hail and high winds.  It looked like I might miss the worst of it but the road was climbing in elevation up into the storm cloud.  I started catching the fringe of the storm with a LOT of wind and rain but, fortunately, no hail.  The road actually went up into this dark black cloud!  As I was passing through it it was like night and visibility couldn’t have been more than a hundred yards.  But, it only lasted about a mile until the road began a descent and we came out of the cloud.  It was a pretty cool experience.  I’ve flown through clouds on planes and helicopters but can’t say I’ve ever driven through one quite like that before.

A beautiful consequence of this storm was that it produced a magnificent double rainbow just a couple miles down the road.  I’ve seen some nice rainbows before, and several double rainbows, but none quite like this, especially with the backdrop of this one.  I felt sorry for those who might look at it as only a rainbow and not the God moment that it is to me.

Rainbow spanning the Wyoming-Montana State Line

Rainbow spanning the Wyoming-Montana State Line

I wrapped up the day’s drive of 580 miles (1,980 todate) by stopping and setting up camp at the Headwaters of the Missouri State park.  I built a campfire and ate a snack and thought about what a perfect day it was as the western sky got dark and the stars came out in full force.

I’d love to hear from you about your God moments.

Today’s destination:  my daughter’s house in Seattle, Washington. 

God bless you all.

Corn, Confession, Cathedrals and Car Trouble

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Day two of my solo trip from Cincinnati, Ohio to Seattle, Washington.

There is a lot of corn along I-29 through northwest Missouri, western Iowa and southeastern South Dakota, and then along I-90 west of Sioux Falls to the Missouri River.  I mean a lot!  And it goes for as far as the eye can see.  I think it made it to “knee high by the fourth of July”, as the saying goes, so the farmers ought to be happy.

I left my daughter’s house in Olathe, Kansas a little later than I expected but that’s okay, we had a good visit.  There’s not much to look at except rolling hills and corn, corn and more corn across Iowa.  I had to give the music CDs and the book on tape I brought with me a break so I turned them off and tuned into my own thoughts.  I reflected back on my post from the day before, specifically my comment about being able to throw my trash in the back seat without anyone telling me not to. That reminded me of something author Matthew Kelly says in his book The Seven Pillars of Catholic Spirituality.  He uses that as an analogy for our daily sins.  We sin a little here and a little there, and we let them slowly build up until we have a heap of them.  Kind of like the rolled up fast food bags piled up on the floor board of the back seat.  It’s been a month or more since I went to reconciliation and I started thinking about how the trash in my personal back seat was starting to pile up.

I had to stop for gas in Sioux City, Iowa so I logged onto masstimes.org again to see if there were any churches in Sioux Falls, South Dakota that I might be able to find that had reconciliation scheduled for about the time I would be passing through there.  The one that came closest was the Cathedral of St. Joseph, the home church of the bishop of the diocese.  I checked my GPS and I could be there ten minutes early.  Sounded like a plan to me.

I was glad I decided to stop because by the time I got there I was beginning to get sleepy.  I entered the church and found two lines for confession, each about six or seven people long.  Fortunately, there were two confessionals going at once and my line moved fairly quickly.  These were old fashioned confessionals of carved, rich mahogany wood, with screens only so I couldn’t actually see the priest.  I got lucky and had a very nice priest.  I had nothing too serious to confess but I think the priest, after me telling him I am still new at this business, gave me three Hail Marys for either practice or just so I wouldn’t think I was wasting my time.

St. Joseph’s Cathedral is a beautiful church.  I decided to stay for the Saturday afternoon mass since I didn’t know if I would be able to find a church on Sunday morning.  The priest gave a very nice homily.  The music was marvelous!  The organist made the huge, old organ sing.  After mass the thought occurred to me that it might be neat to post daily about the churches I am visiting on this cross-country trip.  So, I took some pictures, inside and out. 

St. Joseph's Cathedral, Sioux Falls, SD

St. Joseph’s Cathedral, Sioux Falls, SD

St. Joseph's Cathedral, Sioux Falls, SD

St. Joseph’s Cathedral, Sioux Falls, SD

St. Joseph's Cathedral Organ, Sioux Falls, SD

St. Joseph’s Cathedral Organ, Sioux Falls, SD

Back on the road heading west on I-90, I passed unknown millions of acres of more corn.  My stop at church put me getting to my sister-in-law’s house south of Rapid City, South Dakota a little later than I expected.  I was tooling along with the windows down, watching a thunderstorm roll in with a magnificent show of lightning, and otherwise enjoying the scenery with about 100 miles to go when the cruise control on my Subaru Outback decided to quit working.  In addition to the cruise light on the dash blinking continuously, the red brake light also began blinking continuously, the check engine light came on and stayed on as did the traction control light.  There was no change in power or performance so I assume it is simply a cruise control problem.  Of course, it was Saturday night and I have a lot of miles to cover before any Subaru maintenance shops would be open on Monday morning.  We’ll see where it takes me.

I arrived at my destination about 9:30 local time with about 760 miles under my belt for the day, 1,400 for the trip.  My sister and brother-in-law fed me a wonderful dinner of grilled chicken and asparagus and we caught up with each other’s lives.  They just moved into a new house in the Black Hills south of town and this was my first visit to it.  Upon waking this morning I looked out the huge windows of their family room across valleys of pine trees to see Mount Rushmore.  It was a beautiful view!

Tonight’s destination is a campground somewhere near Missoula, Montana.  Preferably near a mountain stream where I can dream about flipping a dry fly into a riffle where an 18 inch Rainbow is waiting.  Alas, with no time to fish, I can only dream about it on this trip.

Miles, God Moments and Mosaics

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Yesterday began a journey I’ve been looking forward to for several months.  My oldest daughter is getting married in Seattle, Washington next weekend. My wife and I wanted to arrive in Seattle on the Monday before her wedding so we could help her with last minute details.  Somebody (the general consensus is that it was me) decided we would need a vehicle while in Seattle and it would be cheaper to drive our own than it would be to fly out and back and rent a car while we are there.  This plan evolved into me driving to Seattle from Ohio by myself and my wife and youngest daughter would fly out and ride back with me.  So, I will spend about forty hours of driving time Friday through Monday while they spend seven hours flying on Monday.  You probably think I am crazy.  Quite the contrary.  I have not taken a multi-day road trip by myself in over thirty years and I have been eagerly anticipating driving west.  I get control of the stereo, I get to stop where I want, not stop when I don’t want to stop, eat French fries while I’m driving, and throw my trash in the back seat.  For four whole days.  Yes!

Day one’s way point destination was Olathe, Kansas, home of another daughter and her husband.  Six hundred and forty miles beginning at home in Ohio, across Indiana, Illinois, Missouri and ending just into Kansas.  Ten hours of driving time including routine stops plus one special stop for one hour.  As I was driving across Indiana I remembered visiting, as a tourist a couple years ago, the Cathedral Basilica in St. Louis, Missouri, and what a beautiful church it is.  So, at a pit stop just outside Indianapolis, I logged onto masstimes.org to see if by chance they would have a mid-day mass at the cathedral.  Sure enough, there was one scheduled for 12:05 p.m.  I plugged the address into my GPS and, believe it or not, it said my ETA would be 12:05 p.m.  Is that a God moment or what?  I arrived at 12:09 p.m., but would have been on time had it not been for highway construction in Illinois.

The cathedral was just as beautiful and awesome as I remembered it.  It will seat thousands of people and this day there were probably about 200 people, mostly tourists and folks who looked to be passers-through like me.  I occupied a pew with a young couple and their young daughter, and another young mother with three even younger daughters.  We had never met before and probably never will again but we all held hands during the Our Father.  We were our own little microcosm of Christ’s body there to worship and receive Holy Communion in this magnificent church.

The St. Louis Cathedral Basilica was begun in 1907 and was completed in 1988 – eighty one years in the making.  The cathedral is of Romanesque architecture on the exterior and of the Byzantine style on the interior with three huge domes, a transept and four special chapels.  But what really makes the cathedral unique is its interior mosaic art, over 83,000 square feet of glass tile artwork, 41.5 million pieces of tile in all in more than 8,000 shades of color.  It is stunningly beautiful.  You can see some photos of the cathedral, inside and out, by visiting the Cathedral Basilica at St. Louis website http://cathedralstl.org/

The Cathedral Basilica at St. Louis, MO (Image from DestinationNexus)

 

Cathedral Basilica at St. Louis (Image from wikipedia)

Cathedral Basilica at St. Louis (Image from wikipedia)

 After mass and after exiting the church I walked through some of the adjacent garden on my way back to my car.  There, I found a sculpture entitled The Angel of Harmony with the first three Beatitudes inscribed on the front of the sculpture’s base. 

The Angel of Harmony Sculpture

The Angel of Harmony Sculpture

On the right side of the base I found engraved in the granite the following quote which struck me as no mere coincidence that I would be reading it only the day after our country’s 237th birthday:

“America will remain a beacon of freedom for the world as long as it stands by those moral truths which are at the very heart of its historical experience.  And so, America, if you want peace, work for justice.  If you want justice, defend life.  If you want life, embrace the truth – the truth revealed by God.” — Pope John Paul II, St. Louis January 27, 1999

These are poignant words that are right on the mark and are as important today, if not more so, than they were over fourteen years ago.

I made it to my daughter’s house in Olathe, Kansas with no trouble. She had a marvelous dinner waiting for me and we had a great time visiting and talking about the upcoming wedding.  All in all, it was a blessed day.  Today’s destination – my sister-in-law’s house in Rapid City, South Dakota!  I wonder what unexpected revelations God has in store for me today?

If you’ve ever visited and/or toured the Cathedral Basilica in St. Louis, let me know what your impression was.  I would love to hear about it.

Grace and Mercy

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Grace is what God gives us when we don’t deserve it and Mercy is when God doesn’t give us what we do deserve. – Anon

I first saw this quote about a year ago on a monitor at the YMCA where I was working out.  At the time, I had just made the decision to turn to Christ and join the Church so I took the time to write it down.  The saying intrigued me.  There I was loping along on the treadmill and I thought, “God certainly didn’t bestow any gracefulness on me!”  It was one of those moments where I realized that I didn’t know what I didn’t know, specifically the definitions of grace and mercy.  Considering the new spiritual adventure I was on I thought I probably ought to get familiar with both terms.  Half of the quote, the mercy part, wasn’t so hard for me to understand.  But, it took me a long time to get my mind wrapped around the grace part.

Maybe it’s because I tend to be a little ornery at times, but the sarcasm in the phrase about mercy wasn’t lost on me.  It is a subtle, tongue-in-cheek way of saying that God doesn’t punish us for our sins that merit punishment.  It’s our deliverance from His judgment.  Ever since I was a boy and I heard my grandmother say, “Lord, have mercy on you, child!”, I have fully understood the context in which she uttered that oath – she was pleading to God to grant forgiveness to me, forgiveness for things which definitely merited punishment.  I’m pretty sure I owe my grandmother big-time for acting on my behalf.

But, understanding the grace part was a little more challenging.  After a lot of mulling it over, I think I finally figured out why.  There are many definitions for the word “grace”.  In its noun form I was familiar with two meanings: “a meal time prayer”, and “ease and suppleness of movement”.  More to the latter, I believe I confused the word “grace” with another similar noun, “gracefulness”, which means “the quality of being graceful”.  In fact, this meaning had such appeal to me that it seemed like the perfect name for our youngest daughter, Grace.  My wife, on the other hand, because she has been Catholic her entire life, probably understood from the get-go what grace really means and intended it as such.

Eventually, after breaking down and doing one of the hardest things there is for a guy to do – to look a word up in the dictionary – I realized my ignorance when I read Webster’s primary definition as, “Unmerited divine assistance given humans for their regeneration or sanctification.”  The operative words to me in that definition are “unmerited divine assistance”.  In my simple mind I translate that to mean that God, through His goodness, is giving me something which I have not earned. And, if the truth be told, it’s probably in addition to the mercy He has shown me for what I really deserved.  I’m sure they go hand in hand.

Now that I can no longer plead ignorant to its meaning, I have to consider it in the context of being a Christian and I have to determine how to apply it to my life.  To receive grace, it seems the logical first step is to take to heart Ephesians 2:8, “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not from you; it is the gift of God”.  In my prayers I offer thanks for the mercy He has shown me and I ask for help, His grace, in strengthening both my faith in His Word and my resolve to do His Will.  And, as to how I should apply it to my actions going forward, I have also read or heard, but I don’t know where, something along the lines of, “…help me to be Christ-like and let the grace of God work through me so that I may forgive those who need my forgiveness.”

There’s a little irony in all this.  Now that I understand what God’s grace really is, I realize how, seventeen years ago when I least deserved it, He bestowed on me a lifetime of grace by blessing me with a beautiful and loving daughter who is the embodiment of her name.  God is great!  I think He also has a good sense of humor.

I have mentioned “God Moments” before, those times where God becomes present to you in some unexpected way.  I think these “God Moments” are examples of His grace.   If you have ever had any “Ah-Ha” moments you would like to share about receiving God’s grace, I’d love to hear about them.

The Still Small Voice of Discernment

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“If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, Who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him.”James 1:5

Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you knew you needed to do something but you weren’t sure exactly what that something should be, and you also knew that, whichever option you chose, you would be afraid to do it?

As I’m writing this, many men and women I know who are participating in the preparation for a Christ Renews His Parish weekend are in the process this week of “discerning” what their role will be on the weekend.  Having been through the process twice I know it can be quite daunting to think about speaking in front of, and witnessing to, people you don’t know on a subject that may be very personal.  You have on one side a voice calling you to, “Do this, it’s the right thing to do”.  And, then, you hear another voice saying, “No, don’t do that, you’re putting yourself out there and the risk of failure is too great!”

The first time I was faced with discerning what action I should take, I have to admit I had no idea what the word “discernment” meant.  It was not in my vocabulary.  Instead of looking it up in the dictionary to find that its definition according to Webster is, “The quality of being able to grasp and comprehend what is obscure”, I guessed it was more like playing poker – you close your eyes and try to imagine through some kind of ESP if you want to draw the next card.  Go ahead and laugh, that’s the truth. It actually worked for me because it took fear out of the equation and reduced it to pure dumb luck.  But, most folks aren’t quite the spiritual neophyte that I am. 

So, how do you choose between discerning the right thing to do and letting fear talk you out of it?

I was reading the other day in a blog that I follow by author Allison Vesterfelt in which she discussed in her new book The Chase, the difference between fear of failure and one’s discernment that a direction is the right way to go.  She writes:

“There is a distinct difference, although sometimes the line between them is thin and fuzzy.  If you ignore the first [fear of failure], you’ll find [freedom].  If you ignore the second [discernment], you may get the opposite – a circumstance that crushes your spirit and steals your life.

“I definitely don’t have all the answers in this area, but there is one thing I’ve learned by making mistakes on both sides.  Fears are loud, and discernment is quiet.  Generally, when I’m trying to make a decision between going this way, or going that way, my fears are screaming to me, warning me about all the possible dangers ahead.  My discernment, on the other hand, is whispering to me, softly: that isn’t the way.

“It seems weird that it would be this way, if you ask me.  I wish my fears would be the quiet voices, and that discernment would be loud.   It would make so much more sense.  After all, my fears are so often lying to me, and I can trust my discernment to tell the truth.  But one thing I’ve learned by listening to the quiet voice of my discernment over the loud voice of my fear is this:  in order to hear, I have to get quiet, and lean in to where the voice is coming from.

“I don’t know if God intended it this way or not, but either way, I’ve found it to be really helpful.  Practicing the discipline of tuning out my fears and tuning into my discernment actually brings me into intimacy with Jesus.  It quiets the noise and sheds the distractions.  It brings Him close to me, and me close to Him.  And the closeness and intimacy we develop in that space, I’m finding, is actually the only thing I need in order to move forward in my journey.”

The quiet voice of discernment, she says?  Where had I heard that before?

I was driving to Nashville, Tennessee this morning listening to one of my favorite CDs, Jason Gray’s, A Way To See In The Dark , and I noticed the lyrics of two songs had something in common.  In both, the songwriter mentions a still, small voice. 

In the first, Fear is Easy, Love is Hard, he writes:

“It comes down to a simple choice,

Shouting devils, or a still, small voice. 

One is spreading fear and dread

Oh, but Love has always said

‘Do not be afraid.’”

In the second, Without Running Away, he writes:

“After a while in the dark, your eyes will adjust,

In the shadows you’ll find the hand you can trust,

And the still, small voice that calls like the rising sun,

‘Come, and bring your heart to every day

And run the risk of fearlessly loving

Without running away.’”

Like Ms. Vesterfelt, he suggests that the devil is the source of the loud shouting behind the fear that is telling us not to do something, but it is Jesus, with His love, who is trying to catch our attention with His quiet whispers, His still, small voice, and that if we place our trust in Him, we can do the right thing even if it is that which we fear to do.

Is this how you have experienced determining what you should do?

For my friends who are discerning this week what role you are being called to play in your ministry, I pray you find it easy to lean in to the quiet, still small voice of Jesus and tune out the loud, fear inducing shouts by the devil of doubt.

God Bless you.

Catholics are called to ‘daily martyrdom,’ says Pope :: Catholic News Agency (CNA)

Catholics are called to ‘daily martyrdom,’ says Pope :: Catholic News Agency (CNA).

.- During his June 23 Angelus reflection, Pope Francis said the faithful are called to follow the example of the martyrs in losing their lives for Christ, even if they do not suffer violence for their faith.

“Both in the past and today, in many parts of the world there are martyrs, both men and women, who are imprisoned or killed for the sole reason of being Christian,” he said, noting that there are more martyrs dying violent deaths in modern times than in the early centuries of the Church.

“But there is also the daily martyrdom, which does not result in death but is also a loss of life for Christ.”

This “daily martyrdom” consists of people “doing their duty with love, according to the logic of Jesus,” said the pontiff from the window of the Apostolic Palace to those gathered in St. Peter’s Square.

He delivered his Angelus comments reflecting on the day’s Gospel reading, in which Jesus tells his disciples “whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.”

Pope Francis stressed that there are fathers and mothers who put their faith into practice concretely by devoting their lives to the good of their families each day.

“There are many priests, monks, nuns who give generously with their service to the kingdom of God and the young people who give up their interests to devote their time to children, the disabled and the elderly,” he stated.

“Those who serve the truth serve Christ,” he underscored.

The Pope also spoke of St. John the Baptist, whose feast day is June 24, and pointed to him as an example of a man who gave his life for the truth.

“John was chosen by God to prepare the way before Jesus,” he said, explaining that the saint “devoted himself entirely to God and his messenger” and ultimately died for the truth.

Pope Francis entreated everyone, particularly young people, to “have the courage to go against the tide of current values that do not conform to the path of Jesus.”

God Bless Planned Parenthood

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Reposted from www.apriestlife.com

Most of my posts to date have been related to my own personal experiences.  Our “About” page says one of our objectives is to, “provide Catholic-based, Christian food for thought through discussion of current events relevant to our faith”.  One particular current event that gets most Catholics riled up is the subject of abortion.  To say that we “hate” or “detest” anyone associated with the Pro-Choice movement may be extreme and wrong, but it appears to me through observations from social media that most of us calling ourselves Christian, Catholic or otherwise, have at least very strong negative feelings towards them.  To that end, I’m sharing below some thoughts from Fr. Jeff Starkovich, a priest in Lake Charles, Louisiana, who was a classmate of my daughters and is now pastor at St. Margaret of Scotland Parish and Chaplain at St. Louis Catholic High School in Lake Charles.  As you read, take a moment for some honest introspection and maybe think about:

Does this change the way I think about the issue?

Do I agree or disagree with him?  Why?

And, if you feel inclined, please let the rest of us know. Perhaps your arguments, one way or the other, will help the rest of us in wrestling with this issue.  Thank you and God Bless.  — Jerry

God Bless Planned Parenthood

Tonight, our youth gathered with their families to contribute to one million rosaries for life. It’s powerful to see the young beseech God’s blessing to aid in the immense task of changing hearts.

As I prayed with them, my thoughts turned to a recent request from our president. On April 26th he spoke at a Planned Parenthood conference. This came as no surprise to anyone. It was his closing line, however, that caused quite a stir:

Thank you, Planned Parenthood. God bless you.”

In beseeching God’s blessing on the largest abortion provider in the United States, no little uproar ensued from the Christian faithful.  But praying with our flock tonight, my thoughts are different.

To ask for a blessing from God is to request that God pour out his goodness.  Coming from the Latin root benedicere, meaning to “speak well of” or “to commend,” to seek God’s blessing is to commend one to God for the sake of sharing in His goodness.  It is a request for God to pour out his grace upon another so that they may be sanctified.

This is exactly what Planned Parenthood needs.

We are seeking to change hearts.  We desire that hearts may grow and be purified so that all people affected by abortion may experience real love.  And in order to grow in love we must have the support of Love Itself, who we call God.

By commending Planned Parenthood to You, we ask for Your blessing.  May Your grace change hearts and save lives.

Tonight, I thank You for one million rosaries for life.  I thank You for the unexpected inspiration given by our President.  May we always work to grow in holiness.

I agree with you, Mr. President:

God bless Planned Parenthood.

Love is a Verb

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John 13: 34-35  “I give you a new commandment:  Love one another.  As I have loved you, so you also should love one another. This is how all will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

The last two weeks have been unlike any I’ve had in some time.  My emotions have run the gamut from worry about some serious and scary health concerns within my family, to feeling so much love for and from God, my family, and my parish community, that I find it difficult to describe.  I think my frequent and fervent prayers about the former were answered and actually begot the latter. The emotional love I am feeling is, I believe, a direct result of the acts of love shown to me from others and by my acts of love to them.  It’s the act of loving that has built a bridge over that emotional gap.  And it’s that bridge that has caused me to examine it and to count it as one of my blessings.  Let me explain.

Many years ago I lived in England and, as a seventh grader, I studied Latin. I don’t remember ever learning the Latin word for the noun form of the word meaning “Love” but I remember, like it was yesterday, learning to conjugate the verb “To Love”:  Amo, Amas, Amat, Amamus, Amatus, Amant (I love, you love, he/she loves, etc.).  And, even though I memorized this, I don’t think I understood what it really meant as a verb, or an action word.  Instead, I lived my life for the next fifteen years taking for granted that it was only a feeling, a noun, not something to be done.

In fact, I’m embarrassed to say that I probably had not yet made that connection when I married my wonderful wife thirty-one years ago.  Love, to me, was a feeling, and any actions that could have been interpreted as love were probably more a result of trying to satisfy my own desires rather than hers. I was self-centered and immature into my early twenties. My only consolation is that most everyone my age was the same way.  All these years later, when I look around our world and examine its culture, it looks much the same to me.

Why is it this way?  Is it just a part of growing up?  Is it our culture?  Is it due to parenting in today’s society?  Do some parents work so hard to build the egos of their children that they become self-centered and live in a “me” world? 

With luck, young adults will have a unique defining moment that helps them to redefine what love means, that it’s an action word, a verb, and not just a feeling.

My defining moment didn’t happen with my marriage although I felt extreme love for my wife.  It wasn’t with the birth of my first child, either, although I had never felt new love like that before.  No.  It was the simple act of understanding the phrase, “Love is a verb”, that I read in a book by author Stephen Covey when I was trying to get control of my life during a very crazy period.  Quite simply, Covey wrote that if you want to feel more love, then you have to give more love.  Love is an action word.  It’s something you do.  What a novel idea for me at the time! 

Have you ever stopped to consider the idea of love being something you do, not just something you feel?

I like to think that, since then, I’ve grown up and learned a thing or two.  I wish I could somehow effectively teach teens, young adults, and others who’ve never before stopped to consider the concept, the definition of love as explained by C.S. Lewis in his book, Mere Christianity.  In his chapter on the theological virtue of Charity, Lewis writes,

“Charity means ‘Love, in the Christian sense’.  But love, in the Christian sense, does not mean an emotion.  It is a state not of the feelings but of the will; that state of the will which we have naturally about ourselves, and must learn to have about other people.  Christian Love for our neighbors is quite a different thing from liking or affection.  But, liking or [having] affection for people makes it easier to be charitable towards them.  Do not waste time bothering whether you ‘love’ your neighbor; act as if you did.  As soon as we do this we find one of the great secrets.  When you are behaving as if you loved someone, you will presently come to love them.” 

And, I would like to explore with those students what St. Paul wrote in his letter to the Romans,

“Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves.”  (Romans 12:10)

Fortunately for me, I was old enough for the meaning of ‘Love is a Verb’ to make some sense.  I started practicing this new idea.  Lo and behold, I noticed that my intentional efforts to do things to show my wife and children how much I loved them returned good results.  I felt more love from them.  But the biggest eye opener was something unexpected – the more I showed them love, the more love I felt for them.  The engineer that I am recognized this as exponential growth – a powerful thing.

How do you show love?  Have you received something in return which you never imagined would happen?

So, I rocked on for about twenty-five more years in this way, focusing on a loving relationship with those closest to me, my wife and four daughters, (who, I’m proud to say, are much more mature and responsible than I ever was at their age) and my extended family.  And, with just a few exceptions, that was about the extent of the loving in my life.  The people in that circle made up my world.  Oh, I had a few people I called friends, people at work and neighbors who I liked but they were not “loving” relationships under this new definition of love.

It has only been in the last 15 months, since my first Christ Renews weekend, that I’ve been able to truly extend my circle of love beyond my family.  Since then, my new extended family of my Catholic community has shown me example after example of love in action and I have been so blessed to have had opportunities to act with love for them, too.  And, over the last two weeks, I have felt God’s love, and Jesus’ presence next to me, more intensely than ever before.  I can’t help but believe there is a direct correlation between these feelings of love and peace, my time spent praying, and the reciprocating actions of love I have shared with family and friends.

Do you notice the noun version of “love” the more you practice the verb version of “love”?  Do you have an experience to share?

Good day and God Bless.