It’s hard to believe, but almost a year has passed since I last saw my beautiful homeland (the United States) and came to Europe. A lot has changed in that brief year, and I found myself reflecting on a particular aspect of life that I had a vague idea of before, but now see pretty clearly. To put it simply, a year of getting ingratiated into a different culture is a good preparation for thinking about life as a Christian.
Sounds a little weird, or not really connected, but hear me out.
Ask anyone who has had to spend any considerable time away from home, and I am sure that they will tell you that there was some sort of culture shock that was part of their experience. Even when people go on short trips abroad, they pick up on the ways in which the different culture functions, or at least draws them out of their comfort zone or their “normal.”
In Italy, for example, there are hundreds of ways this American has been challenged to see the world from a different perspective, or even just learn to enjoy something that isn’t done the way I would think it should be done. From not being able to have a cappuccino after noon, to riding a bike in high traffic in Rome, to learning the way idiomatic expressions are made in Italian, to not having AC except in the occasional store or shop, there are many experiences a different culture can offer to help you see the world just a little differently.
Why am I talking about this?
This whole experience got me thinking, the same is true for our life as Christians. Part of being baptized in Christ means that we are made new, something completely different. We no longer can live for ourselves, but (as Paul says), but it is Christ who lives in us. This means that we need to immerse ourselves into the culture that is the Mystical Body of Christ. This means that the way we see the world should change, the way we talk should change, what we find acceptable and what we are willing to do for others should change.
One thing that stands out in particular is the issue of language. We need to learn the native language of the Body of Christ. By learning a new language, we not only learn a new way to say the same words we already use, but more so, we learn a new way of seeing life, a new way of seeing how to express an idea or how to name an object. By way of example, in Italian you do not say “I spent time.” Time is not a commodity that is spent. Rather, you would say that you “passed” time. The idea here is a little different. It’s these subtle ways that things are different that really draw us out of ourselves to see a different way of seeing the same things.
To really enter into the Body of Christ and live there like a native, we need to learn the language. Not only that, we need learn how the natives live. How do we do this? Prayer, community, service, etc. Above all, in the Liturgy we learn the language, the culture, and the worldview that is native to the Body of Christ the best. Scripture, teaches us as well. Community with fellow citizens of the City of God also helps draw us towards a better living and understanding.
We are of course free to not enter into the culture of the Body of Christ, just like there are plenty of tourists in cities all over the world who resist the shocking change of foreign cultures. You can, of course, survive for short trips that way, but if you really want to make a place feel like home, you have to be willing to change and be changed.
God desires us to make His home our home. He is already chasing after us and He desires that we conform our lives to the new culture of our Heavenly calling. Let’s not be tourists in the City of God, but let’s make our home there. When we do that, and when we are changed by the culture of true, self-giving love that sums up the whole place, then we will be ready to draw others there, too.
This past week, eight of my seminarian brothers and I had the opportunity to go to the University of Saint Francis for an evangelization trip. Our mission was simple: to facilitate an encounter between Jesus Christ and the students at USF.
How did we go about doing this? We were armed with nothing more than our baptismal identity as sons of the Father and the anointing of our confirmation as soldiers for Christ. Many of you reading this probably have the same gifts dwelling within you; that is, the indwelling presence of the Most Blessed Trinity.
Think about it, by nature of your baptism, confirmation, and the Eucharist, God dwells totally in you and makes you a member of the Body of Jesus Christ. Thus, you and I are Jesus really present in the world.
This fact should give us great fortitude and fearlessness in witnessing to the Christian event. No matter the trial, setback, or failure, you and I are always children of the Father and members of the Body of Christ. Further, because the human person was created by God and for God, there is a deep yearning within the human condition that longs to be in communion with God. As such, the Christian is the tangible Body of Christ which must bring about the communion of humanity with God.
In our experience at USF, we found this to be the lived reality. In the course of two days, we met somewhere between 200-300 students. After engaging with them on a very human level about their own life and experiences, we then proposed the basic kerygma and invited them to pray with us. Repeatedly, this led to either a reconsideration of the Faith, a return to its practice, or an overwhelming gratitude for our presence; that is, Christ’s presence. In a word, when folks encounter Christ, they experience a transformative fulfillment which satisfies a yearning from very root of their created nature.
It’s a fulfillment for which all creation yearns – and you are Jesus.
During Fridays in Lent, the Church asks us to abstain from eating meat as a sacrifice. But why? First of all, why Fridays; that’s usually the day when we want to indulge a little and relax from the busy work week. No, the Church didn’t choose Fridays because it wants to invade on our relaxation time. She chooses Friday as a day we remember the great sacrifice that Christ offered on the Cross on Good Friday. So every Friday (in or out of Lent) should be a day that we offer up some small inconveniences as a sacrifice, to unite our sufferings with Christ and to remind ourselves of His great sacrifice.
So we should make Friday a day of sacrifice. Well, what if we want to go get a giant tuna steak or a lobster feast or some delicious sushi for Friday dinner? Technically I am meeting the Church’s request to not eat meat, but is it really a sacrifice? Are we really joining with Christ’s great sacrifice on the cross by indulging in something that we only get on special occasions? Perhaps not. But on the other hand, we don’t need to be eating cold dead fish heads to be intentionally miserable.
So following the LETTER of the law, which means what the Church literally says, eating sushi is permitted because it is not meat. But following the SPIRIT of the law, which is the idea/concept/reason behind the letter, maybe eating a giant sushi platter or an entire shark for dinner on Friday isn’t the best choice.
The Friday meat fast is a way that we, in some small way, can accept an inconvenience that reminds us that the Lord sacrificed his entire life for us. The entire season of Lent should be a time when we are saying “NO” to our sinful/selfish desires and saying “YES” to the Lord. As St. John the Baptist proclaimed, “HE must increase, I must decrease.”
During these Fridays in Lent, let us see abstaining from meat as a small reminder that as Christ gave His all for us, I can give up this small thing for Him.
“Put off the old man who is corrupted according to the desire of error, and be renewed in the spirit of your mind: and put on the new man, who according to God is created in justice and holiness of truth.”
Eph. 4:22-24
These words from the letter to the Ephesians are what Dietrich von Hildebrand describes as “inscribed above the gate through which all must pass who want to reach the goal set us by God.” Further, he says,
“All true Christian life, therefore, must begin with a deep yearning to become a new man in Christ, and an inner readiness to “put off the old man” — a readiness to become something fundamentally different.”
Dietrich von Hildebrand Transformation in Christ
What does it mean for the Christian to become fundamentally different? It is a call to be something wholly other. To throw off the old man, who is a slave to our narrow world view, our prejudices, our vices, to sin itself and the will of the Evil one. It is a change in us that draws us back from bondage to sin into the glory of the Lord who has created us in love.
What allows this difference to happen? This is key because often we want to change ourselves. Recently I was listening to a podcast about forming new habits and one of the points that the speaker made was that when we go about forming new habits it’s important that we start to think in a new mindset. So rather than thinking, “I don’t do that anymore” when it comes to, say, watching 6 hours of Netflix, it is more effective to say, “the type of person I want to be does not watch 6 hours of Netflix on a Tuesday night.”
I think this points to a reality that is deeper than wanting to change bad habits. The change that Jesus Christ effected in the world by His Passion was clear, effective, and permanent. The world can never be the same. God has suffered, died, and rose from the dead. Sin has lost, the battle won.
We are called to life in Christ, to an encounter with a living God who desires to draw us ever closer to Himself. Because of the victory won for us, we cannot just simply say things like “I don’t do that sin anymore” or even, “the saint I want to be wouldn’t do that sin.” The change that God wants to effect in us is deeper and more powerful than any habit change.
We are adopted sons and daughters of God. We no longer live for ourselves, but rather Christ lives in us. Our “readiness to change” really rests primarily in our “readiness to die to self” so that Christ might live in us.
We know when this doesn’t happen in ourselves, and we certainly know when it isn’t happening in others. But we are presented with a great opportunity in the season of Lent to really foster this readiness to change. Because that is the beauty, God does the changing, we just have to be ready.
Through self-denial, exercises of temperance, and even noticeable changes in our daily routine we are not trying to earn holiness or even do penance in the strictest sense (yes, they are penitential practices). Rather, I think it is more helpful to see all of the things we do for Lent as ways that stretch us to be ready (like the wise virgins) for the coming of the Lord into our life. Once we are ready to change, to die to self, then He can come in freedom and accomplish His good work in us.
“The readiness to change is an essential aspect of the Christian’s basic relation with God; it forms the core of our response to the merciful love of God which bends down upon us: ‘With eternal charity hath God loved us; so He hath drawn us, lifted from the earth, to His merciful heart (Antiphon of Praise, Feast of the Sacred Heart).’ To us all has the inexorable yet beatifying call of Christ been addressed: Sequere me (“Follow Me”). Nor do we follow it unless, relinquishing everything, we say with St. Paul: “Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do? (Acts 9:6)”
Recently my little sister had a baby boy and I was sick at the time, so I didn’t get the chance to hold my new nephew. My sister was somewhat upset that I didn’t hold him, I think because she thought I didn’t want to hold him, which was NOT the case.
When I finally did get to hold him, she made kind of a big deal about it and was really excited. I think the reason is that it wasn’t enough for me to just see him, or for her to tell me about him, but she wanted to share him with me; she wanted to share the joy and excitement that Henry was for her.
On Saturdays and feasts of Mary, we continue to celebrate the coming of Jesus, but in a special way we celebrate the person who brought Jesus into this world: his mother.
Just like my sister, Mary, being the good mother that she is, wants to share her son with all of us, for us to hold, to cherish, and experience for ourselves the Love and Joy which He IS.
Mary wants us to have physical contact with her Son, just like my sister wanted me to have physical contact with hers. This might seem odd, we can’t hold baby Jesus like I can hold my nephew, but we can still experience Jesus Christ in a physical way: in the Eucharist.
Just like my sister, Mary LONGS and DESIRES to have us be with Jesus, and we can when we receive the Eucharist at Holy Mass. We need to be sure that we aren’t sick when we hold something as precious as a baby, so we need to be sure that our SOULS are healthy before we receive something so precious as Jesus Christ. If we are in a state of sin, we should refrain from receiving, but in the meantime, Jesus’ mother is waiting and longing for us to return to her son with a healthy soul.
So Get your soul clean and receive the baby Jesus into your heart in the Eucharist.
“The shutting up of oneself in this inner fortress of isolation, which exists secretly even in the most jovial joiners of clubs, is proof of narrowness, limitation, even stupidity. For it presupposes a certain egocentric attitude toward the world and God. The man who has been melted by the sun of values, and above all the man who has been wounded by the love of Christ, is also lovingly open to every man and has entered into the objective unity of all. Yes, this ultimate true spirit of communion, the universal disposition to love, and the life in the ultimate loving “We,” is only possible as a fruit of the ultimate “I-Thou” communion with Christ, through which we are transfigured into Christ. Every attempt to achieve this “We” without Christ leads to a superficially anchored pseudo-communion.”
Dietrich Von Hildebrand, Liturgy and Personality
Given some of the unique opportunities that have presented themselves to me by my being a student in Rome, I have been recently reflecting on the beauty of the universal Church and the light of Jesus Christ in my own life and the life of the world. What I have come to find is that the measure of community that we experience is intimately tied to our relationship with Christ.
For Christians, no meeting is mere chance, everything works, in the end, for God’s glory. My travels of late have taken me to three different nations. In each one, I have found that it is my relationship with Christ, more than any human language I know (or not know), that makes true communion and intimacy with others possible. Yes, it is true that on some basic human level, we are all able to connect. However, that connection, that intimacy, is deepened in unimaginable ways when people are striving for intimacy with the Lord.
For the years I am blessed to spend here in the Eternal City I am not able to return home for Christmas. Therefore, this year was the first Christmas I have ever spent away from home. I did not really have any particular expectations of what this would be like; I knew it would be hard, but so is being away for the major part of five years. I decided to go to England for a few days around Christmas, and so I cannot help but recall that great quote of Chesterton:
“Blessed is he that expecteth nothing, for he shall be gloriously surprised.”
-G.K. Chesterton, Heretics
And gloriously surprised I was. I stayed with a friend at a lovely parish where we were able to serve Mass and enjoy fraternity with two other priests and the pastor. On Christmas day I was tasked with cooking the meal. In proper English fashion, the meal looked like American Thanksgiving. I just found myself struck by the fact that all five of us were from different parts of the world, and yet, here we were speaking and living as though we were old friends. We had met each other just a day earlier, yet our mutual love of Jesus Christ gave us an infinite communion to share.
After returning from England with a quick stop (just long enough to do my laundry and see the New Year’s fireworks of Rome), I was headed off to Corsica, France. Here, some friends and I were staying at a pilgrim house for a few days. Honestly, I once again had no idea what to expect. And once again, I was gloriously surprised by Christ. The sisters had sent a woman (a friend of the convent that has the pilgrim house) to pick us up from the port and bring us up to the house for the first time.
The sunset on Corsica
When we were walking up to the exit from the port, we saw a woman whose smile widened as we appeared. She asked us (in French) if we were seminarians. Luckily, the word in Italian, French, and English are close enough that we knew to say yes to the question. From that moment on, she poured out her love on us in helping us navigate the city, driving us to Mass, and praying holy hours with us. For four days we shared a large chunk of time with this woman, some of the days there was another guest who knew some English and could translate, other days not. For the entirety of the time, we were still able to communicate because we spent our time communicating about something we held in common: Jesus Christ.
Lastly, a random opportunity presented itself this last weekend (I had written this post before, but didn’t like it, so I waited to rewrite it. While waiting this happened, so…the Lord wins again). I was asked by a fellow seminarian to fill in for him for a Mass that he had been asked to serve. I said yes (for some of the guys its finals season here while mine does not start until next week) becasue I was free.
Here in Rome, there have been plenty of holy happenings (and not holy happenings, but that’s a different story) over its 3000ish year history. One moment of Grace was the appearance of our Lady to a man in the Church Sant’ Andrea delle Fratte. Every year since our Lady inspired this man’s conversion to the Catholic and Apostolic Faith, she is celebrated at the altar where she appeared.
It was this Mass that I was asked to serve. The place has a special place in my heart as St. Maximilian Kolbe celebrated his first Mass there too. When we arrived, to our surprise, we were asked who was going to MC the Mass. When no one volunteered, I did (I have done it before, but not often enough to jump at the opportunity). Why did we hesitate you ask? Because the Mass was being celebrated by the Cardinal Archbishop of Genoa, that’s why.
I told the priest who was coordinating everything that I knew how to do it but that I don’t speak Italian well, so I wasn’t sure if he really wanted me to do it. He just smiled and said it would be fine. Thus began a night of real grace as I got to be right by the side of the Cardinal for two hours. What struck me most was this man’s love for Christ and his deep calm and prayer. He is a man in love with Jesus Christ. It was peaceful. We did not exchange much, just some simple small talk afterward, but having stood next to him while he prayed the Eucharistic Prayer and noticing the ease with which we communicated throughout the Mass, I could not help but be once again struck by this intimate communion through Jesus.
This post begins with a quote from one of my favorite books of all time, Liturgy and Personality. In it, Dietrich Von Hildebrand lays out a vision of the Liturgy that challenges one to embrace the veil of mystery and through that embrace to catch a glimpse of the reality. His view of the community formed through the Church’s Liturgy is a great description of what I have attempted to express here: that the closer each one of us is to the God-Man Jesus Christ, the closer we will be to each other. Any attempt to grow closer to each other that is not directed towards intimacy with Christ is folly, and at best will keep us at the same distance away from Him, while at worst it will take us far from Him. I have attempted to sketch it:
What transcends all peoples, all languages, and all cultures without destroying anything that is good in them, what actually enables us to be united with each other in a real spirit of respect and good will, what actually brings peace into the world is Jesus Christ. Any attempt at union or communication without Him is folly, and at worst utter madness. Our desire for unity and community should always be directed towards Him, and if it is, it will bear much fruit.
What I have described is nothing more than the life of the Church and what God wills for each one of us. It is the love of Christ which enables us to love each other, and that is somehting that knows no limits and is not restricted to any one human language.
“What really matters in life is that we are loved by Christ and that we love Him in return. In comparison to the love of Jesus, everything else is secondary. And, without the love of Jesus, everything is useless.”
The Grotto of Lourdes at the University of Notre Dame
Years ago, I had a revelation occur to me involving the apparition of Mary. While the Blessed Mother did not appear to me in a dream or in country side field, she certainly made her presence known. I was in the eighth grade at the local Catholic school, and several devoted ladies from the Blue Army came to my class and told us all about Our Lady’s appearance at Fatima. I had never heard of the apparition before and found myself quite surprised at the story of the Miracle of the Sun and the faith of Francisco, Jacinta, and Lucia. But shortly thereafter I quickly realized that the apparition was just not that important.
Do I believe the occurrences at Fatima actually happened? Absolutely. Do I love Our Lady deeply? I recite the rosary daily and have a scapular around my neck right now. But her appearance at Fatima and any other apparition sites are just that – a mere appearance of the Blessed Mother. While they are certainly supernatural appearances which would cause extraordinary wonder in all of us – the appearances of Our Lady are nothing compared to the greatest supernatural event in human history: the Holy Mass.
In the Holy Mass, the Eternal Word of God appears to us in the Scriptures, and then makes Himself present to us in the Eucharist. In other words, not only does God Himself proclaim a divine message to us in the Liturgy of the Word, but then He gives Himself totally to us in His Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity in Holy Communion! In all reality, there is nothing which can compare to the gift of the Holy Mass – not even a miraculous appearance of Our Lady. An apparition is the appearance of heaven; communion is its reception.
All of this revealed two things to me. First, Our Lady’s appearances always find their greatest importance in the way she points away from herself and to her Son. Secondly, I realized my own lack in wonder and awe for the greatest gift ever given to humanity in the Eucharist. If we truly received the gift of the Mass with the love and devotion corresponding to the reality of the event – how different the world would be! Think about the graces which still flow from Fatima or Lourdes. Yet, those are only the fruits of the salvific event which is commemorated at every Holy Mass. In other words, infinitely more graces are waiting to be given at each and every Mass for the salvation of souls and conversion of hearts.
In short, it is in the Eucharist that God displays the greatest scandal of His love. While most of us think of certain days (weddings, ordinations, the birth of children, etc.) as the greatest days of our lives, it seems the greatest day of our lives is actually the day we experience most frequently: the day we attend Mass and go to Holy Communion. For it is precisely on those days which divinity dwells in our own humanity and salvation takes place in our own beings. Indeed, it is for this reason that the Catechism(1324) calls the Eucharist the “source and summit of the Christian life.”
As we begin this new year beginning on the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God, may we beg her intercession to have the corresponding wonder for Holy Mass that should infinitely surpass the wonder we would have at any one of her appearances. After all, compared to her Son, Mary herself doesn’t think her appearances are all that important.
This was originally written for the folks at Those Catholic Men. You can check them out here.
Why is the feast of the Epiphany such a big deal? Are we simply celebrating the beginning of giving gifts at Christmas? All of the gifts of the wise men indicate some essential aspect of who Jesus Christ is and what role he will take in Salvation history. These gifts, I don’t doubt, were divinely inspired. As wise as these 3 men were, I doubt they had the supernatural vision to foresee what this little baby was going to become!
The first gift is a somewhat normal gift of homage and respect. Gold. This gift is indicative of the royalty and power that Jesus has. And really, this was the main reason the magi visited Jesus in the first place: to pay their respects to the new KING! Jesus is the King of heaven and earth, so this gift of gold points to Christ’s kingly royalty.
The Second Gift, of Frankincense seems somewhat strange. Frankincense is a type of incense and during the time of Jesus was almost as precious as gold because of its importance. In the Jewish culture, incense was used by the high priests of the Temple to bless and make holy the sacrifices that would be offered to God in the sanctuary. As the smoke of the incense rose up into the air, it was symbolic of their prayers going up into heaven to God. The gift of Frankincense to Jesus foretold the fact that Jesus would be the Great High Priest and would offer the true sacrifice of himself on the cross.
The Third gift, is even stranger than the second. Myrrh. Myrrh is an oil that was used to anoint the deceased body of someone as they are preparing for burial. Imagine how Mary and Joseph would have felt receiving this gift for their newborn son??? Why would their son need this? Did the wise men think he was sick or was going to die soon? No, it was foretelling the type of life Jesus was going to live – a life of self-sacrifice, death to selfish desires, and obedience to God the Father even to death. The gift of Myrrh was appropriate because Jesus’ greatest act on the earth was his death, and the oil of Myrrh was symbolic of this great gift.
Even today, we give these same gifts to God through the Church: We fill our sanctuary with beautiful, golden gifts to point to Christ’s Royalty and to adorn his Church with beauty. On High feast days, we light incense and fill the Church with the beautiful smoke to make holy the sacrifice which is offered on the altar. And we use holy oil to anoint those who are preparing for death in the Anointing of the sick, We anoint with oil those who are dying to their old ways of sin in baptism, and we anoint priests and bishops who will die to their selves in a deeper and true way in their ministry, no longer living for their own passions and desires, but conforming themselves to the life that Christ lived.
We celebrate on Epiphany more than just 3 guys who went to visit Jesus to give him presents on his birthday. We celebrate a great Foreshadowing of who this small child will become, what he will do, and how he will bring life to each one of us.
A group of seminarians from Fort Wayne-South Bend who formally declared their intent to pursue Holy Orders
As 2018 came to an end, and we begin 2019, it was not a glamorous year for the priesthood. In fact, it was one of the most devastating, humiliating, and repulsive years for priests. Through the heinous and unconscionable actions of some clerics, simply wearing a Roman collar in public often gets stares as if I were an accomplice to a network of monstrous criminals.
And in spite of it all – no, because of it all – I stillwant to be a priest.
At its core, my vocation is singly centered on one thing – a friendship with Christ. Despite my weakness, sinfulness, and unworthiness, Christ reached down and chose me for His own in the waters of baptism. He has nourished me daily in the Eucharist, strengthened me with His Spirit in Confirmation, healed me with His anointing, and continues to bind up my wounds in the sacrament of penance.
Friendship, at its deepest roots, changes everything. The experience of friendship is one of the most marvelous experiences of life. I would argue that it often goes beyond human expression. Just take a second and try to explain your best friendship to someone else. It’s pretty difficult, isn’t it? Yet – I do think we can say a few things about friendship.
First, friendship is a real experience borne out of an encounter. When we meet some one who becomes a friend, there is something remarkably different about that encounter. In the highest forms of friendship, the friend sees the other as more important than himself. A perfect example of this is the sacrificial nature of a husband and wife. At some point, both bride and groom recognize that the other was worth laying down their entire life. So, too, did the divine Bridegroom do for me. In spite of my infidelity and sinfulness, Christ still chose to befriend me – at the cost of His own life.
Secondly, friendship is built upon trust and belief in the other. Once I knew the friendship of Christ, I started to take seriously His promises. While I could do anything with my life, it is hard for me not to be moved by Christ’s words in John 6:53: “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.” If this is true, and because of my friendship with Christ I believe it is, it seems that the fullness of life is inseparable from Christ’s body and blood in the Eucharist. In other words, without a priest, there is no Eucharist. And without the Eucharist, there is no life.
This brings me to the final point of friendship – it is life-giving and inviting. Friends, rather than becoming isolated from others, display a certain joy that is full of life and inviting. So, too, with Christ. His friendship has called me out of the darkness of my sin, filled me with the warmth of His love, and given me a desire to share that divine joy with others.
In short, I cannot deny my own lived experience and encounter with Christ. I am a sinner. I am unworthy. Whether in spite of it, or precisely in order to draw me out of it – Christ chose to befriend me. He has given me a new life, brought me abiding joy, and promises me eternal life – and I trust him. Thus, it only seems reasonable to continue to live in this friendship and to invite others to it. For it is only in the friendship that one person becomes like the other. For the priest, this means becoming like the Great High Priest and Savior – Jesus Christ. And only by abiding in this friendship will the face of the priesthood be properly restored.
A Voice in the Wilderness 