Where are you from? A discussion on place

It's an interesting question: Where are you from? It seems to be a question that most people ask in order to establish some sort of connection. Often I hear the question "Where are you from?" followed by some sort of variation "Oh, I've been there before" or "I have an (insert relative, no matter how distant) who lives there." It's something natural, we all wish to have an immediate connection with new people. Since place is such an intimate part of who we are, the quickest way to establish that connection is to establish a link between you and the place where they're from.

In today's modern world, though, it is becoming harder and harder to really pin down where we are from. For many people, the place they grew up is different from the place they are now, creating a sort of disconnect that occurs between different parts of their lives. They have legitimate connections in both places, but it does seem that most identify with either one or the other, not both. So what determines how people think about "where they are from?" What does it mean to be "from" somewhere?

To a large extent, I believe being "from" somewhere ultimately means being tied in with a particular community located in a specific local. I use this language because today we have so many "communities" that exist without people being in the same location. However, nobody says they are from Facebook, but they say they are from a town, a state, or a country. What makes a place part of a person is the community of other people that person lives, works, plays, and prays in. The community we are a part of determines the place, and in return the place determines a lot about our own identity. This is why "where you are from" can change throughout a persons life. Perhaps for years you find that you answer with where you grow up, but after putting down roots in another community you find you begin to change your answer to where you currently live.

Ultimately, though, in order for a person to really have a place they need to stay in one location for a period of time. They need to spend years, if not decades, in the same community in order for it to really take a hold of them. Sure, we can experience a sort of attachment after many years, but its not the same as a lifetime spent in the midst of a community. Think of those many Irish immigrants who came oversees to America. For years afterwards they identified themselves as Irish because they were the result of centuries of living in one place. They had such a strong identity not just because they were in a new world and trying to preserve their culture, but rather because their parents, grand parents, great grandparents, and great great grandparents lived and breathed that placed called Ireland for centuries.

Indeed, this introduces another aspect of the question "where are you from" that is often lost on us Americans. "Where are you from" can be concerned not just with the history of this particular individual, but it can also refer to a trans-generational aspect of place. What I mean is that the place a person identifies himself with can also be determined by the history of his family. This is something rare in America because of the propensity, present since the beginning of our country, for Americans to move. However, if you ask members of French families where they are from, I can guarantee you that the place they answer is rooted in their family history. I saw this firsthand this summer when one of Liz and I's friends got married to a gentleman from Toulouse, France. You could tell that the place of Toulouse was deeply rooted in his family history, and he and all his relatives surely had a deep connection to the place.

This multi-generational aspect of place is something seen in Americans as well, but in an awkward distant sort of way. Almost all Americans identify themselves as some sort of nationality that may be generations removed, such as Irish, Italian, Spanish, German or Scottish. This connection through the generations is a testament to two things: 1) how strongly ties are established to a place once a family has lived there for generations and 2) how deeply man longs for the stability such a multi-generational place provides. Indeed, though my family has not lived in Ireland for 4 or 5 generations now, we still identify ourselves as Irish. Why do we do this? Because for the most part the family has not yet put down roots since leaving Ireland, opting instead for moving around many different regions. So, since we do not have the same roots we look to where we once were completely stable.

I bring all this up because if we are ever hoping to have a Christian culture again, like Ireland once did, we must respect the demands of place. We must recognize that we cannot move around endlessly, but we must work to establish ourselves in a specific locale and then devote ourselves to that place. If people stop moving, and we begin to establish real communities, how long until some of these communities become Christian in nature? And once they are Christian in nature, won't the Christian aspect of these communities seep into the non-Christians as a part of their person, because of their connection to the place? If it does, won't that person be much more likely to come closer to Christ?

So, let's raise a glass to both the old country and the new country. Here's to our ancestors and to ourselves, might we learn the permanence of place they once knew, so that we can hand it on to our children as it has been handed on to us.

Children in Mass: a lesson by Life

Since marrying Elizabeth a year ago, life has become an entirely different type of teacher than it was when I was a single man. When I was single, most of my lessons in charity, for instance, came from reading Scripture, lives of the Saints, theological treatises and the like. These are all great sources of information, but I used to wonder how much these "lessons in charity" were actually sinking in. Of course, none of us can really know exactly how charitable we are (that's not really the point of being charitable,) but I do think we have some sense of whether a lesson in charity is sinking in or not. And, I believe I can safely say these lessons have been sinking in a lot more over the past year.

For instance, Liz and I have recently started going to mass in the mornings again at Christendom. This was a habit we had formed before Alan came along, but since his birth it has been very hard to make the 7:30 a.m. mass time. However, Alan is now 5 months old, and he is starting to get on a better schedule that allows us to wake up in time for mass. As part of this going to mass in the mornings, we have also started switching out holding Alan in the back (he can't stay quiet if he's in Church where the echos magnify his voice for him.) Up until this point, Liz has taken care of him most of the time in Church since he was needing to eat frequently, so taking care of a baby in the back of Church is a very new experience for me.

This brings me to the other morning as I was holding Alan in the back and Liz was in Church praying. This particular morning Alan was being more fussy than usual, and as a result he did not want to sit still. I kept having to switch from standing with him, to sitting with him standing on my lap, to sitting with him sitting on my knees, to kneeling with him standing on the floor, etc. As a result, I started becoming annoyed that I wasn't able to focus on the mass. I began to grumble a little bit saying things in my head like, "If I'm going to have a spiritual life, I need quiet to pray. Liz is so good with Alan, why doesn't she just take care of him all the time?"

Of course, I realized that all of this was grumbling and didn't take it too seriously. As mass went on, though, it got me thinking: what is it I'm really owed? I mean, am I really owed a nice quite morning mass? Or, is it something I'm just used to, and now with a baby I just won't be able to have that? It occurred to me that there are many times in my life that I become upset when something doesn't go my way, feeling that I have been denied something I'm owed. I can become upset when someone makes fun of me, feeling that they have not given me the respect I am "owed." Or, I get upset when the car breaks down, because by gosh that car "owes" it to me to keep running. Or, at its most absurd, I get upset at the weather outside when its gray, because I'm owed sunny days.

My point is, that it occurred to me that so many times in life, we become used to a routine and when the routine is interrupted we are upset because we feel like we are owed something. Standing there in the back of Church, I realized that much of what I feel I am "owed" are actually blessings I have only been able to routinely enjoy, and instead of becoming indignant when these blessing are taken away, I need to be thankful for the blessing I currently have. For, Christ surely must have also intended the Church for parents with young children, so there must be a way to pray while taking care of a baby.  Instead of learning this new type of prayer, though, I was becoming solely focused on what I was supposedly "owed."

Marriage and family life have begun to teach me the lesson that what I am owed is not nearly as important as what I am given by God. Indeed, this is a fundamental lesson of living in community. By living in a community, the individual agrees to abandon his own way and join his path to that of the community. He is called to make sacrifices for others, chief among which is the sacrifice of his time, that one thing he feels he is owed no matter what.

This was a lesson, an understanding I never would have come to without the concrete community that is marriage and family. This is why concrete community is so necessary for the well being of man. It is a school for man to learn the truths of who he is, and in this case, what he is really "owed." "It is not good for man to be alone." If he were, man might come to think he is owed such things as sunny days.

On the feast of St. Matthew

"As Jesus passed on from there, he saw a man named Matthew sitting at the customs post. He said to him, 'Follow me.' And he got up and followed him. While he was at table in his house, many tax collectors and sinners came and sat with Jesus and his disciples. The Pharisees saw this and said to his disciples, 'Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?' He heard this and said, 'Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do. Go and learn the meaning of the words, 'I desire mercy, not sacrifice.' I did not come to call the righteous but sinners.' " Mt. 9:9-12

Being named after such a man has always been a great honor and a blessing for me. Each year, on September 21, I listen attentively to how my namesake first came to know our Savior, and every year I am struck by how beautiful a moment it must have been for Matthew to write this account down. It seems to me that he leaves very few clues as to his reactions and feelings at the time. However, I do believe he leaves some.

The story of his conversion comes a full nine chapters in to his own Gospel, and when it does come, it is so brief that it is almost easy to forget that you are reading the author's conversion. It is presented as just another story, but I like to think about what Matthew must have felt when he wrote these verses 2000 years ago. It was a moment that changed his life, a moment after which he would never be the same again. As he wrote these verses he must have remembered the look Christ gave him, the tone of voice Christ used, and the relief he (Matthew) must have felt when he stood up, and followed Him.

Of course, one of the most striking aspects of the story is the immediacy with which Matthew followed Christ. Most sermons on this passage focus on this point. While Matthew seems to recognize this as an important part of his conversion, I don't think he saw it as the center of the story, though. I imagine him saying, "How could I not have followed Him?" We are struck by the immediacy of Matthew's response as outsiders looking in, but it seems Matthew is most struck by the meal afterwards. It seems he was more struck by the immediate intimacy of the relationship as reflected in the meal than in how the relationship actually began. He is struck by the love Christ shows him in eating at his table, and the words of Christ's mercy are burned into Matthew's heart so that years later I am sure he remembered them as they were said.

Just a few hours before the meal Matthew's life was the same as it had always been. Now, at dinner, he hears Christ tell the religiously proud Pharisees that he has come to heal Matthew and his friends. He has not come to exclude Matthew, He has come to eat at Matthew's table and heal him. For years Matthew carried these words in his heart: "I desire mercy, not sacrifice," and when he writes his conversion story, this is where he chooses to place his emphasis. For Matthew, his conversion and his whole relationship with Jesus is first and foremost a story of mercy. To him, Jesus is the Son of God made man who pulled Matthew out of sin. Jesus cleansed Matthew, and Matthew never forgot that.

He does not emphasize his own reaction because he does not think it is as important as Christ's reaction to his sin. He was a man who, like St. Paul, had learned to say, "it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me." Writing his Gospel, Matthew in turn wished to share that mercy with the rest of the world. He shares his experience so that other's might know the mercy of God. His goal in telling his story is not to become famous, gain followers, or, as secularists would have you believe, set up an institution by which men could preside as judge over other men. No, St. Matthew's message is clear: he wanted all men to know that Jesus had come to heal their sins and enter into a relationship with them. In a word, Jesus had come to save them.

Today, let us pray through the intercession of St. Matthew, that this message of forgiveness might not be lost on us. Once we have confessed our sins, they are totally forgiven. God's mercy runs deep, and it totally wipes away everything from the past. May the Lord immerse us Catholics once again in His Mercy, and may He share it with all those in the world who have never experience it. St. Matthew, pray for us.

Fr. Pavone: Lessons from Scandal

For the third time in 2011, we Catholics have witnessed a prominent priest being accused of wrongdoings and being removed from his former ministry. First came Fr. Thomas Euteneur, who was actually removed in August, 2010, although the allegations of sexual conduct with a woman only came to light in February of this year. Then there was Fr. Corapi, who was also accused of sexual misconduct and drug use, and who later resigned from active ministry in the priesthood. Finally, now, we have Fr. Pavone being recalled to his diocese because of concern over how he managed the finances of Priests for Life.

As a Catholic layperson far from the spotlight of fame I find myself wondering, what should my reaction be to these priests? First and foremost, I recognize that I do not know the personal guilt of these priests. In Fr. Euteneur's situation there is confessed guilt, but there also seems to be more allegations (as referenced in the press release of HLI). In Fr. Corapi's situation, his order, SOLT, has deemed him guilty of several serious transgressions, but he still denies the allegations. So who am I to believe?

Luckily for me, I am not their judge. Indeed, it is not up to me to determine the temporal fate of these priests. The main reason I want to know the truth of the situation is that I am curious. I am curious to know the sins and failings of other people because in my fallen condition there is part of me that believes that my own guilt is lessened if I can judge others, whether that be the priests or the bishops making these decisions. But this is not how my guilt is lessened. My guilt is not lessened by the guilt of others, my guilt is only lessened by the Mercy of Christ. It is His Blood, His Love that wipes away my sins. Similarly, it is only His Blood and His Love that can bring healing to these three situations. As someone so far removed from the situation, rather than concerning myself with who is committing what sin, I should be praying for whatever sin is present to be healed by His Love.

This brings me to the second reaction I have when it comes to these scandals: a sense that the call to perfection is even more important in an all pervasive digital world. We live in a world where sins can be easily documented, since our lives are being lived out in the digital sphere more and more. Our periods of anger, our impatience, our rash judgments, along with so many of the sins of impurity can be so easily traced in the digital realm. Ultimately, this can be a blessing, in that it holds us accountable for our actions. However, it should also be a warning to us.

The sins of members of the Church are a scandal to those outside the Church because they really and truly show a hypocrisy in the soul. If we are to preach Christ, then, we cannot make room in our lives for any "private" sins, as these may very well find themselves in the public light one day. Indeed, it's easy to get into the attitude that "Well, no one will ever know what I say/ do in this situation, so even though its a sin I'm going to do it." Not touching on how disturbing it is that we can care more for the opinions of other men than the the opinion of God, this statement is no longer true because of the digital realm. Now, our actions and thoughts are witnessed to in the pictures we put up on Facebook and the blog posts we write (a thought that is continually on my mind.)

But this level of accountability is, indeed, a gift from God. It is Our Lord saying to us, "I know you care for the opinion of others more than for My own opinion, so I will lead you closer to myself by making it more difficult to hide your faults. Perhaps through your fear of the bad opinion of others, you will turn away from your sin, and turn towards Me. Then, you will value My Love above all things." The scandals these priests are involved in should make us realize how thoroughly we must live our relationship with Christ. We cannot make room in our lives for sin if we are going to follow Jesus, especially if we want others to love Him as well. I hope and pray that as Catholics we might see these scandals as a lesson - that we must live out our lives in love with Christ both in public and in private.

First things first, Mr. President

Last night, President Obama gave a speech in front of Congress outlining his main goal for America: jobs. For over a week, the media had been drumming up the speech as essential to his presidency, pivotal, and defining. Now, I must admit, I didn't watch the full speech. I watched the first ten minutes online, read several reactions to it, but I didn't watch the full speech. So, I have no right to comment on the specific proposals he seems to have vaguely laid out. Rather than challenging the specific proposals, I would like to challenge the whole basis of the speech: namely, the notion that "jobs" should be the primary focus of our government.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying jobs aren't important. They are. For centuries the Catholic Church has emphasized the fact that work is an essential part of the human experience. Even the Carthusians, the most contemplative of all orders, still make time for work. The Church teaches that work has been ordained by God as yet another means of coming into contact with Him. Through our own work, we can take part in the work of the Creator. Even in menial jobs we can experience an "ordering" of creation that brings us closer to God.

The true tragedy of the current rash of unemployment is not the fact that so many Americans cannot afford much beyond the necessities of life. The true tragedy is that without work, man becomes stagnant and does not have the opportunity to take part in the creative work of God. He loses the fulfillment that work brings with it.

The true solution to unemployment, though, is not in new tax cuts/ spending. No, the true solution to lack of work is a reordering of the priorities of society."Seek ye therefore first the kingdom of God, and his justice, and all these things shall be added unto you." Mt. 6: 33. A society must be ordered to God first, and then things such as food, clothing, and leisure will follow. Jesus' words in this passage have a two fold meaning. First, He is referring to a miraculous means of providing for the necessities of life. As Christians, we cannot discount the fact that if we trust in God, He will provide for us in unseen and sometimes miraculous ways. Many of us have experienced this - unforeseen generosity of strangers, checks arriving without notice beforehand, etc.

However, of more interest in our discussion about jobs and government is a second meaning to the phrase, "Seek ye therefore first the kingdom of God, and his justice, and all these things shall be added unto you." What Jesus is also saying in this passage is that when you order things first towards God, the order of all other things follows suit. So, if we put God first as a nation, then we will understand what the best solutions to unemployment are. For instance, if intimate union with God is the end of our society, then we will also structure our economics in such a way that it will be ordered to intimate union with God. So, rather than creating business for the sole end of profit for the owners, we will create business where the profit is ordered to bringing others into union with God. If work is an essential part of having a relationship with God, then part of the profit of these businesses will go once again into creating work for people.

If we're going to solve the jobs crisis, then the very first thing we have to do is solve the spiritual crisis of the country. Thus, we cannot make room for things in our society like sexualization of art (in music, picture, and video), unlimited desire for money, homosexuality, abortion, and violence. Instead, we have to be first seeking "the kingdom of God, and his justice." This is the reason I ultimately did not listen to President Obama's speech, since I know that THIS solution is nowhere to be found in modern day politics. Even amongst Republican, the emphasis is always on the material economy and not the spiritual economy. If we want to see a turnaround in the material economy, we have to turn around the spiritual one first. Then, "all these things shall be added unto you."

On Monasticism and Silence

On Monday afternoon, Liz and I had one of our friends over for coffee and dessert. It was gray and rainy outside (as it has been all week) so it was the perfect day to settle in and just catch up. This particular friend of ours, a woman of beautiful faith, shared with us her process of discernment. If all goes according to plan, she will be entering the Poor Clare convent in Alexandria come January. During the course of the afternoon, she shared how she had slowly become aware of this amazing calling. Through years of discernment, God slowly but surely revealed His love for her, calling her to enter into a deeper relationship with Him in the contemplative life.

Sitting there, listening to her witness to God's love by revealing her own life, a profound sense of peace came over me. Through her experience, I was entering into the silence that God is currently calling her towards. Images of cloisters, monastic gardens, nuns at chant, adoration - all filled my mind. And, at the center of everything, was the Bridegroom.

The silence of the monastery or convent is meant for one thing: the deepening of the relationship with Jesus. The beauty, the austerity, all of these things are ordered to union with Christ. These places, these antechambers of Heaven, are literally meeting rooms between God and man. The contemplative life offers man a chance to once again walk in the garden with God. The struggles of community life and the dryness that these souls undergo serve as a desert of intimacy. The contemplative life is one filled with the greatest beauty and also often the greatest desolation.

So, as I was sitting there listening to our friend running towards such a life, I began to reflect on the one that Liz and I have been called to. The active life, as lived out in the sacrament of marriage, seems to be so different. It is one, especially in today's world, that seems to be filled with so much noise. We run here, we run there, fulfilling the various duties of day to day life. We work to carve out time each day for prayer, for reflection, and we battle to keep the day's concerns away during this time. However, they seem to rush back onto our minds with astounding vigor.

Though we don't have the same silence and beauties of monastic life, our lives are filled with their own particular blessings. For one, we have been given each other. We have been blessed with one another as spouses to live and share our lives together until our deaths. For another blessing, we have been given a son, Alan, who is such a great joy. We are given the opportunities to sacrifice for him, to watch him grow and develop, and as the years go on we will be able to introduce him to Jesus Christ. There are so many blessings to the active married life - friends, family, hobbies, and even work.

Of these two lives, though, one is assuredly higher, for in the contemplative life man is called to direct union with God. Of course, we are still called to union with God in the active life, but the contemplative life offers opportunities for union that simply cannot be had in the active life. The contemplative life, though, should inform and instruct the active life. What I mean is, for those of us in the active life, we should learn from the monks and nuns who lock themselves up in order to give themselves completely to God.

In particular, as men and women called to the active live we need to engender an interior silence. We need to set off part of our souls for the worship of God. This means turning off music and televisions some times and allowing our selves to be surrounded by silence. Exterior silence helps engender interior silence. These periods of silence should be part of our day as well. Yes, it is good to be silent when in Church, but we should also be practicing silence at other times during the day (especially in the morning, if possible). Silence is essential to the life of the monk and cloistered nun, and it is a lesson from the contemplative life that should not be lost on those in the active.

If more Christians looked to the monks for an example of how to love Christ, I believe the Church would quickly catch the world on fire. I pray that the example of the monks, those silent martyrs, might enkindle in the hearts of the Church a renewed intimacy with Our Lord Jesus.

On the Conduct of Christians

I've been thinking a lot recently about the relationship between the Church and the world, especially in regards to its relationship with the current culture. The main question that has been on my mind and in my heart has been this: How do we, as sinners, interact with and correct a sinful world? We know there must be correction of those outside the Church. Out of a true desire to see them know the love of Christ we become convinced that we must tell people what they are doing will leave them unhappy.

However, Jesus himself challenges us on this point. He says, "How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye." (Mt. 7: 4-5) As sinners ourselves our own vision is skewed. Sin is a distortion of vision, and thus the sinner loses sight of the good. In turn, it becomes more difficult to turn and preach to a world even further lost in sin.

This problem of sinful Catholics in a sinful world is well documented by the Church's enemies. In today's world, it is often the hypocrisy of Catholics, not their love, that makes the national headlines. Of course, part of this is due to the modern news cycle which is mostly focused on the spreading of scandal. Today, most people know the Catholic Church from the news stations, and not from interaction with their local parish. This cultural loss of the local, a strategic move by the Culture of Death to cut man off from reality, has resulted in the faults of some Catholics being emphasized more than the charity of others

So, in today's world, Catholics must overcome both their own personal sinfulness and the sinfulness of other Catholics in preaching to a world that does not know its own sins. Quite the task, to be sure. Where do we begin? Can we still effectively preach Christ's love with sin so prevalent?

To begin with, my Dad always likes to point out that Christ doesn't say, "Never take the speck from your brothers eye" but only "take the beam out of your own first." The first step to spreading the Gospel, then, is to draw close to the Word Himself. If we are going to show the world God's mercy, we must first know it for ourselves. To know God's mercy, though, we must be weak. It is not necessary to sin to know God's mercy. Mary knew His mercy well; she experienced it in the fact that she was saved from all sin. For ourselves, though, we can experience His mercy in our sins. St. Therese of Lisieux used to enjoy telling her sins to Our Lord because she recognized that sins were an opportunity for Him to pour out His mercy, His love, on her. Of course, this does not mean sin freely, since the act of sinning is a rejection of God's Love! Rather, when we do sin, we must recognize it as an opportunity to allow Christ further into our hearts.

It is in our acceptance of His mercy, then, that the beam is removed. He wipes away our sins with His Love, and He restores our sight. By immersing ourselves in His mercy we're able in turn to reach out to those outside the Church in the hope they will accept the same mercy. We must show them mercy, not prejudice. We must show them love, not harshness. We must remain small, while helping those who are also small. Most of all, we have to trust in Christ, for when we are small we can be easily injured.

The reason I mention all of this, and the reason I have been thinking of it, is because I have often noticed many instances of Christians acting uncharitably on the internet, both Catholics and non-Catholics. Anger is expressed against bishops, politicians, enemies of the Faith. Christians (myself included) so often forget that we are told to love our enemies, and yet there are so many examples on the internet of Christians telling others they are going to Hell. They make a judgement that is not theirs to make, for only God judges the final resting place of a soul!

Such arguments, such anger and bitterness, only further alienates those who are outside the Church. And if we are responsible for such alienation, it will be something we must answer for in front of God. "You can't use the Devil's tools to do God's work." We cannot be prideful, we cannot threaten violence, we cannot shout, we cannot offer harsh judgement when we come in contact with those outside the Church. These tools are not available to the Christian. Instead, we are offered the weapons of humility, peace, silence, mercy and love to fight our battles with. It is a lie of this world that these are not effective weapons, for they are the weapons the Son took up when He walked this earth, died, and was raised three days later.