Count your blessings, and "Behold your Mother!"

January the first is a very special day. It marks the beginning of a New Year (we’ll have to remember to put 2011 on those things requiring a date instead of 2010!). It is also the Octave of Christmas during which we have been challenged to “remember” the good things that God has freely given to us. The “remembering” that we do is so much more than a nostalgic look back. Memory in the context of a feast like today is a deeply spiritual activity that grows within us as people of faith, hope and love. We remember how we are blessed by God. At Christmas the blessing is purely and simply the fulfillment of the promise of God to enter fully into our lives to be healer, merciful and forgiving God. God enters us personally in Christ Jesus, born of Mary as the God-man to take from us the bonds of sin, injustice, fear and harm that afflict us because of Adam’s sin.

This is the Solemnity of Mary, the Mother of God.

All the other titles of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and the beliefs taught about her, rest on this singular and profound reality. To be the Mother of my Lord, she had to be conceived without sin (Immaculate Conception); to be the Mother of Jesus, she needed to say "yes" (the Annunciation). About her, Jesus tells her, "Behold your son," and her divinely given maternity of Jesus, becomes a maternity for the Church, for priests, for God's people, often depicted as hiding in her mantel for she is the refuge of sinners, and a sorrowing world is gazed upon with sorrow by the Queen of Peace.

Her power as an intercessor exists because she is the Mother of God. She is Our Lady of Lourdes, Our Lady of Fatima, and Our Lady of Good Help, along with many other titles representing how she leads us in prayers of adoration, praise and intercession. The comfort she offered to her Son is the comfort she offers to each one of us. This is the solemn day of recognition of the identity of the Woman Clothed with the Son. She is the Mother of God. Rightly, I am to accept what Jesus has said, "Behold, your mother," because she will always lead me to Jesus.

The first reading from the Hebrew Bible’s Book of Numbers sets the tone for today’s celebration. It recounts the words that God spoke to Moses: “This is how you are to bless the Israelites. Say to them:

The Lord bless you and keep you!
The Lord let his face shine upon
You and be gracious to you!
The Lord look upon you kindly and
Give you peace!
So shall they invoke my name upon the Israelites
And I will bless them.”

This blessing reaches into our everyday experiences right at the center of our lives where we meet God-Who-Blesses. New Year’s Day can be highlighted for the resolutions that we take upon ourselves (losing weight, curbing our appetites for food and drink, caring for others, and on and on and on). We might want to resolve this year to remember the concrete ways that we are blessed each day. I think if I am able to do this I might become at a deeper level of my life a Eucharistic servant – called into service by the many blessings that come my way. Can we habitually count the blessings that are ours and thus give ourselves over to God as Jesus Himself did through his life, death and resurrection?

Today’s feast invites us there under the marvelous gaze of Mary, the Mother of God (and our Mother) to remember and to act as Jesus acted in obedience to his Father. Mary’s motherhood is a beacon showing us the way to live our lives and to focus ourselves on her Son, Jesus.

Lord, help us to be blessings-counters as we begin this New Year and to keep our gaze constantly on The Christ who continues to call us into life and service. Help us to keep open to our loving, forgiving, merciful God in the person of Christ Jesus. Amen.

Thanks!

Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later!  I got my first comment about this entry in a foreign (to me) language! It reads, "Il semble que vous soyez un expert dans ce domaine, vos remarques sont tres interessantes, merci".  And although I took five semesters of French in high school, I can't remember anything more than "bonjour" and "crepes".  [Not entirely true-- I have my moments....Comment allez vous?  I think that means "What is your name? And je m'appelle Etienne.  (My name is Stephen).]  In any event, I couldn't make heads or tails of the comment a reader posted.  I didn't know if he (or she) was a spammer, or a critic (they are welcome, too!) but curiosity got the best of me, so I used the translator I found on my search engine and was pleasantly surprised that the comment in English is, "It seems that you are an expert in this field, your comments are very interesting, thank you" [Automatically translated by Microsoft® Translator].

While I appreciate the comment, I must reply that I give all credit to the Holy Spirit.  I am by no means an expert in anything I write.  These posts are simply my reflections and meditations on the readings of the day as they are given to me by the Holy Spirit.  He guides me to read other sources or listen to theologians who are experts when I want to be sure my theology is in line with the Catholic Church.   Even my abilities to use a keyboard and spell words correctly were given to me by God to help spread His Holy Word.

So, Glory be to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be.  Amen.

PS:  After I published this post the first time, I LMAO!  There was an "ad" on my "new post" page from Blogger that said, "Learn to Speak Fluent French!"  How do they know this stuff?  It's eerie.

The power to become a child

The Word, Jesus Christ, is coeternal with the Father. Indeed, He has an earthly beginning and end, a life we can track and understand. This is one of the ways that the Lord has blessed us - He became like us so that we could understand Him in a way like no other.

But more important, with His birth came the birth of salvation - this salvation rang throughout eternity and redeemed all of those who were faithful to God from the beginning of human time until its end. It was an event anchored in time, which echoes out of human reckoning and time. Indeed, "What came to be through Him was life" itself. He gave eternity to the soul. His birth wrought this miracle and made for us a home with God.

It is really incomprehensible. We can speak the words over and over and never really take in the impact of them. However, we don't really need to. What we need to do is accept the truth that the incarnation of Christ brought eternity into time and time into eternity. We are made whole, made alive, made eternal by the mystery of the incarnation. We are redeemed and made acceptable to God through the mystery of salvation and redemption. These two echoes resound through our lives, in our minds and in our hearts.

So, what do we hold onto when trying to comprehend this mystery? Try to see Jesus in Mary's arms and you can see us in God's arms. It is a mirror image - the perishable holding the eternal, and the eternal holding the perishable - but now, because it is so embraced, no longer subject to the reign of destruction and death. The perishable becomes eternal. As Mary gave Birth to Jesus, so Jesus gave birth to Mary's eternal life. He does the same for all of us who accept Him.

As the days of the Christmas Octave and 2010 draw to a close, we are privileged to hear the moving Prologue of the Gospel of John. Among the many phrases that pour out one after the other, I am intrigued by the following: “But to those who did accept him he gave power to become children of God.”


Smiley FaceWhat a curious phrase—having the power to become a child. Unless there is a two-year-old in the house, we normally don’t associate the words “power” and “child.” 


Yet, it’s the heart of the Christian mystery. Incapable of saving ourselves, we need a savior. But the path to salvation is not “upward mobility,” but rather “downward humility.” Christian maturity consists in “growing up” enough to become a child, dependent on and totally confident in God. To be “saved,” is to become a child.

And this must come from a power that does not originate within us. The power comes through the choice to “accept him” – to say “yes” to being saved, rescued, by the Word made flesh, the One who is the Way, the Truth and the Life. We must be born “of God.”

The point driven home by the readings on Friday is that we must readily accept Jesus so that when He comes in His glory, we might be saved. What does it mean to readily accept Jesus in our lives? What are some of the lies that are “alien to the truth"? When applying Friday’s readings to my life, I feel as though I need to start over. This is the perfect time to make a New Year’s resolution: I need to let go of the lies of sin: busyness, gossiping, materialism, pride, and so many others of which I am horribly guilty.

Work toward the light

By our choices and by our actions we can give darkness power over us. We can make choices that drown out the light. John tells us, "The man who hates his brother is in darkness." (1John2: 11) But how can that be if Jesus has come to wipe it out?


It can be, because Jesus only removes the darkness when we invite Him in. He does not take away our choices; we can still choose to turn our backs on good. We can turn out the light, if we wish. This is why Paul always talks about "working out my salvation in fear and trembling." (Philippians 2:12) That is, always working toward the light, and making choices that increase the light.


We can choose to hang up thick curtains around ourselves, or we can choose to open the curtains, throw open the windows, and let light stream in. This is the most glorious Christmas present of all. It is the present that all the lights, packages and bows serve to remind us of! Christ is light; in Him there is no darkness. If we choose to dwell in Him, then we cannot also choose to live in the dark.

Pilgrimage update

I was able to "put another notch" on my "pilrimage belt" today.  I went to Mass at St. Aloysius church in Tulare.  Beautiful, recently built church with lots of children.  I know this because they were having some sort of a school function when I arrived about an hour early so I could say my rosary and meditate in front of the Blessed Sacrament.  It's a little tough to concentrate on meditation when children are speaking loudly and basically "being children".  But I managed.  When I got back to the hotel, I thought I would see how I'm doing, so I made the chart on the left:  That's 128 parishes in two dioceses (Fresno and Stockton) that I made the objective of my pilgrimage.  I have visited 59!  Almost halfway there in a little over 2 years.  At this pace, I should be able to visit every church on my list by 2014! 

Please pray for me that I can complete it.

Here's a little bit on the patron saint of the church I visited today:

St Aloysius Gonzaga

Due to his short lifespan, a look at the life of Saint Aloysius Gonzaga deals mainly with his childhood and seminarial life. He was born Luigi Gonzaga, the eldest son of Farrante, the Marquis of Castiglione, on the 9th of March, 1568. From the earliest age, the young saint was given to prayer, including the Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the seven Penitential Psalms and other devotions.

Being eldest son, Aloysius was expected to carry on the family name, and would fulfill this by his father's wish for him to become a soldier. The hand of God would not allow this fate.

In 1577, his father took Luigi and his brother to Florence to study and improve their Latin and Italian. As it would happen, young man would develop an affinity for study of the saints even more than his regular studies. In 1579, he father moved the brothers into the court of the Duke of Mantua. There the Saint decided to abjure his claim to his father's title and place, passing it to his brother Ridolpho. The Saint then suffered a malady that allowed him to stay out of the public eye, withdrawn in prayer and study of the Saints.

At this time Aloysius read of the Jesuit missionaries in India, and he resolved to join the Society of Jesus. He began this direction in life by instructing the boys of Castiglione in the catechism. At Casale-Monferat, where he spent winters, he assumed the discipline of a monk, fasting three days a week, scourging himself, and praying at midnight on the stone floor of his unheated room.

Over the next two years, Aloysius would fight with his father, mother, regals and delegates over his impending Jesuit vocation. They disagreed with it adamently on the grounds he should follow in his father's stead. Finally, they relented after most of the family title and responsibilities fell to his younger brother Ridolpho, thus allowing Aloysius to enter his novitiate in November, 1585.

In the third year of study, he came to the revelation he would not live long. The plague struck in 1591, and he was sent to aid the ill in the Jesuit hospital of Rome. He performed the lowliest of duties, but contracted the disease in time. He was sure this was the cause of his eventual demise, and once asked his confessor, St. Robert Bellarmine, if it was poosible to avoid Purgatory after death. St. Robert assured it was possible, and Aloysius aspired to this end.

Aloysius' health was so poor that he received Holy Viaticum and Extreme Unction on several occasions. It was revealed to him that he would pass on the Octave of Corpus Christi, and though he appeared much better in the days preceeding the Feast, Saint Aloysius Gonzaga did in fact turn and die on the Octave of Corpus Christi, June 21st, 1591.

Saint Aloysius Gonzaga is the Patron of Catholic youth.

The greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven

At that time the disciples approached Jesus and said, "Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" He called a child over, placed it in their midst, and said, "Amen, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. (Matthew 18, 1-4)


For the last 30-something years (except last year) my family and I have attended the children’s vigil Mass on Christmas Eve at St. Luke’s. When the girls were small, they were in the “Nativity Play”. Over the years it has remained essentially the same—only the “actors” have changed. I appreciate the children’s Mass for a number of reasons, but the biggest reason is the children themselves. I love children, always have.

This last Friday, the words of St. Matthew had me close to tears when during the homily, an elderly man seated behind me kept answering out loud the questions that Father Matt was asking the children: “What makes a holy family?” The man’s answer: Prayer. “What kind of prayers?” The Our Father, the Hail Mary, the Glory Be. “What are those prayers all put together?” His answer was almost shouted out—“The rosary!” At this point, a woman said in a hushed tone, “Dad, be quiet! The questions are for the children!”

I don’t know if the man was senile, or a victim of Alzheimer’s. No matter the reason, his child-like responses were right on the money! His daughter may have thought her father was embarrassing himself, but in my opinion he was just the oldest child there. And, like I said, I love children, because they are the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven.

Sin never works!

Herod was not a nice man. But one thing I find interesting about Herod, for all his crime, terror and violations of God's laws, he still recognized the truth in prophetic scripture which foretold the coming of the Messiah.

However, Herod's killing of the children, in an attempt to destroy the new king and protect his reign and that of his sons, did not change a thing. Had Herod lived to see Jesus during His ministry (Herod died shortly after Christ's birth), he would not have felt any threat at all, and while he may have received some sharp words from the Lord concerning his sins and brutality toward his subjects, his earthly reign would have not been threatened.

Herod's decision to murder innocent people to protect himself shows the futility of sin. Sin never works regardless of the reasons for which we choose to use it. 

God came to earth 2000 years ago in His only son, as a naked, poor baby to bridge the gap between our physical, temporal world and the kingdom of God. One of the first responses to this was a horrible sin against innocent children. Sin stands as a barrier to the bridge Jesus built for us to the Almighty. However, His death on the cross gave us the ability to be reconciled to God and to each other and to be forgiven for our sins. It is my hope and prayer that all Christians may be called to reconciliation with the Lord and with each other during this holy time of year.

"....and he saw and believed"

In the celebration of the feast of St. John the Evangelist we read John's own account of the visit that he and St. Peter made to the tomb of Jesus on Easter morning. These words of St. John are appropriate for his feast day because they tell us a lot about him. St. John is presented as a very perceptive person who had listened carefully to the words and teaching of Jesus and had become a faithful follower of the Lord. This whole section of his gospel reveals St. John in a very favorable light. I find him the sort of person whom I would like to imitate in his faithfulness and devotion to Jesus.

Whenever I read this scripture story my attention is drawn to the last words of the story: "and he saw and believed." In these simple words St. John tells us a lot. He tells us that the arrangement of the burial cloths and the head covering that had covered the body of Jesus led him to understand that grave robbers had not been at work here. It also led him to conclude that the Roman authorities had not moved the body of Jesus. If either grave robbers or the Romans had moved the body they would not have removed the burial cloths and the head covering. And they would not have undone the work of Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea to embalm the body. All of this John realized as soon as he entered the empty tomb. This demonstrates St. John's perceptiveness. Neither St. Peter nor Mary Magdalene was able to draw such a conclusion. Indeed, Mary speaks as though convinced that someone had moved the body.

St. John listened very carefully to the words and teaching of Jesus. On this occasion he must have recalled the words of Jesus when he predicted his Resurrection. He was also a faithful disciple of Jesus who was absolutely convinced that following Jesus was the most important thing in his life. And so because of what he saw and what he believed, St. John came to the conclusion that Jesus himself had somehow arranged for the empty tomb, and that he had indeed risen.

The others believed when they saw the risen body of Jesus on that first Easter day. Mary Magdalene saw Jesus in the garden after Peter and John had left. The disciples on the road to Emmaus saw Jesus that evening. St. Peter and the other apostles (except Thomas) saw Jesus that night in Jerusalem. But St. John came to believe when he entered the empty tomb on Easter morning, hours before his first sight of the Risen Lord that night. For me, there is deep meaning in the words of St. John when he says very simply: "he saw and believed." During his life St. John gave us a very simple and perfect example of how to follow Jesus. Today on his feast we ask St. John to help us to follow his example and to have the kind of faith and devotion to Jesus that he did.

Holy Family Sunday

This year, we have two great feasts on one weekend. Christmas, celebrated on Friday night and Saturday, melts into the Feast of the Holy Family celebrated Sunday. It's as though the Church wants us to see right away the "flip" side of family life, both its joys and its sorrows.


How do we define "family" in modern terms? Is it just Mom, Dad and four kids living in the same place for years?

That definition fits fewer and fewer families in our world. Many children are members of broken families, and so-called dysfunctional families. Pictures of refugees escaping from the conflict of war have become familiar images in the media. Terrified families in Iraq, Somalia, Pakistan and Haiti stir our pity. Families on the run with a few possessions loaded onto a tractor and cart, or on foot, move out of their native land to seek refuge wherever they will be tolerated. Most homes are abandoned and will probably be looted and vandalized. It may never be possible for these people to return to their homelands. They're part of our definition of family, too. It all comes under the umbrella of the "nuclear" family.

Only yesterday, we celebrated the birth of a tiny Baby, surrounded by an angelic choir, greeted with awe and adoration. Today, we commemorate a family in deep stress. Because their two-year-old is seen as a threat, Joseph and Mary are running for their lives from Herod the Great. This tyrant, having deceived the Magi who had unwittingly informed the King of the child's presence nearby, was enraged to the point of massacring all newborn babies in his kingdom.

Joseph is informed of this in a dream by an angel who instructs him to take the child and His mother, and escape to Egypt. This flight into Egypt, as told us in today's Gospel, is a reminder that many centuries before their journey, Moses, also a child of danger, had led the Jewish people from slavery to freedom in what we call the Exodus. Now, Jesus, the new and greater Moses, will free His people from their slavery to sin in a new Exodus, and secure eternal life to all who will follow Him, in the Promised Land of heaven.

Tradition says that after three years in exile, another angel informed Joseph that Herod the Great was dead. The Holy Family then returned to their homeland, but not to Bethlehem, since the new King Archelaus who reigned in his father's place was also a cruel and barbaric ruler.

So, Joseph brought Mary and Jesus to His native town of Nazareth in Galilee. There, they lived a simple ordinary life, Joseph as a carpenter, and Mary as a housewife and mother. Jesus grew in holiness and in knowledge of God's will in the same ordinary ways that we do.

What extraordinary wisdom we find in both the first and second readings this Sunday for family life! Sirach, a second-century B.C. writer, gives us the fruit of constant reading of Scriptures. First, he reminds us that parents' authority is given them by God Himself. When a child obeys, his parents will have their sins forgiven, their prayers heard, and will themselves be blessed with children. Sirach counsels us to be good to our parents in their old age, even when their minds fail!

St. Paul, in Colossians, gives families, both our own individual families and the wider family of the Church, a sure-fire formula for success. We are to act with "heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience, bearing with one another and forgiving one another." Who would ever want to escape – whether Dad, Mom, or teenager – from such a happy home? Or, who would ever want to leave that kind of parish family to seek Christ elsewhere?

A message for Christmas Eve

Just the mere thought of Christmas can bring visions of joy, excitement, family, friends, shopping and gifts. Or, it can bring visions of endless waiting and loneliness, overwhelming sorrow and separation and ongoing fear and darkness.

Have you ever stayed up all night just to experience the dawn – the gradual dimming of the stars as light gently pushes back the darkness revealing the now? Somehow all is refreshed, brilliant – light has come.

Christmas is just this – Light blessing the now. Christmas is not the end of the Advent waiting and journeying. It is the dawn of Advent. It is Light blessing and sanctifying the journey, the waiting itself.

Who waits for whom? Who blesses whom? Parents, siblings, buddies and lovers pensively wait for those who are engaged in the military or the ministry, on a mission or in service to others to come home. Parents eager with anticipation wait for the infant soon to be born. Parents, friends and strangers compassionately journey with the lost and forsaken. Longingly families and friends wait for the estranged; the outcasts in yearning wait for welcome. The hungry in trust wait for the cook. The homeless in hope wait for the host. The jobless in faith wait for the employers. The imprisoned desiring freedom waits for the visitor. And children everywhere joyfully wait for the anticipated delight.

And so I walk, and I knock, and I wait. At times I sleep. At times I awake. At times I am cold. At times I am warmed. At times I am hungry. At times I am nourished and nurtured. But in the hush of Christmas I am invited to witness the gift of the Light that shines in the now. I am invited to notice and to receive the sanctifying presence within my journey, my waiting. I am invited to sing Alleluias to the Christ in my life. To Jesus, Who walks with me in the now – wherever and however that is.

And the good news: Christmas is for all of God’s children. Alleluia, Alleluia!

My family and I want to wish all of you—our friends and family—a most Blessed Christmas and the happiest of new years!

On-the-road evangelizing

As has happened so often before, I was driving 3 other guys to Modesto from Fresno on a truck transfer (we needed trucks in Fresno and Modesto had more than they need).  About 1/2 way there, one of the guys in the back seat noticed my rosary on the rear-view mirror and said, "I see that cross on your mirror.  Maybe you can answer a question for me."  I said I could try.  He asked me if I had read the Bible.  I said yes.  He asked me if I could quote Genesis 1:1.  I started out, "In the beginning was God...." He cut me off and asked if on the first day God created the heavens and the Earth, or Heaven and the Earth.  Before I could answer THAT question, he said he was searching for answers and wanted to know if that is when God created Hell, as well.  I

explained that God didn't create Hell--Hell exists because of the sins we commit.  I told him that Hell is essentially a separation from God for all eternity.  I gave him an example of what it would feel like, in my opinion.  I told him it was like loving someone else so bad all you can think of is that person, but at the same time realizing that you will never ever be with the one you love.  He was trying to wrap his mind around eternal flames and pain.  I explained that no matter how hard any of us try, we don't have any concept of them, just as we can't fully understand the joys and glory in Heaven--"That eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for them that love Him." (1 Cor 2:9)

He left that topic for a while.  He then said what he really wanted to know was "Who created God?"  I told him that no one created God.  God is the Great "I AM".  The Alpha and the Omega.  The Beginning and the End.  As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be.  He couldn't seem to understand that.  I tried to explain it this way: We humans have a finite mind.  God is infinite.  He does not live in "time".  He lives in an "eternal now".  He sees everything that has happened, is happening and will happen all at once.  My passenger seemed to understand. 

One of the other guys in the back seat asked me about statues in our cathedrals and churches.  I asked him if he carried a picture of his children around with him--he said, "Yes, on my phone!" (Ah, the brave new world).  I asked him what he thought about when he looked at the pictures.  His reply was how much he loved them and wanted to be with them.  I told him it's the same thing with us Catholics and our statues--they remind us of those who have figured out the way to Heaven, and we look to them to show us the way.

The first guy had some other questions, but I'm not very good at pop quizzes, so I said, "Hey, if you're really interested in what I believe and in the Truth, read the Catechism of the Catholic Church.  I think you'll find the answers to all your questions there."  Then I said, "If you want to know my personal observations on what I believe and how I try to apply them to my life every day, maybe you'd like to read my blog."  Both he and the other guy wrote the address down and seemed very interested.  I'm hoping they read this blog tomorrow and recognize themselves.  If you guys are reading this, Merry Christmas and God Bless you in the new year.  I know we talked about other things, but I'm trying to keep this entry relatively short.  If you have specific questions that I may be able to help you with (one at a time though, please) you know how to find me. 

After I dropped the guys off, I went home and read the readings for tomorrow.  The Spirit sure moves in funny ways!

 In today's gospel, we hear Zechariah refer to the oft-prayed verse from Psalm 72:18, "Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel, who alone does wonderful things." In Psalm 41:14 we read, "Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel, from eternity to eternity." In 1 Chronicles 16:36, we read the same again, "Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel, from eternity to eternity."

This litany throughout time invokes God's eternal nature - no beginning, no end. And though Jesus had a human beginning as a baby in the arms of His mother, when Zechariah speaks these words, we are reminded of at least two things: this is a wonder God has wrought and it is God Himself Who is the wonder AND Eternity, the All in All, Who has consented to become one of those whom He loves to bring them home to His love.

There is, sometimes, a tendency to sentimentalize the Babe in His mother's arms. But at the same time, when we place the Christ Child in His manger this evening, we should recall that this was the moment that Eternity touched us and we learned, truly learned, what love meant. This child would go through many changes and suffer much for us - but this truly is the beginning of knowledge and of our salvation - more than two thousand years ago, the moment stays with us as we participate in it year after year.

I really had no idea that my conversation earlier in the evening with my passengers would be reiterated later to me as I read these Scripture passages.  God truly is with us every day, not just at Christmas.
 
While I was on my "evangelization tour", the family went to a local farm that sets up christmas lights and lets people drive through the farm for a fee.  It's really quite spectacular, and it gets bigger every year!  When I looked at this picture, I thought, "Wow!  Gloria in Excelcis Deo!"

THE DIGITAL STORY OF THE NATIVITY

His name is JOHN

When I woke up this morning, I was not feeling very well.  But I'm in Bakersfield, and I didn't want to waste the company's time, so I worked until about 2pm. Then I drove to Simi Valley this afternoon to take Mom some of her mail and some other things she asked me for.  As I was leaving there, Mom mentioned that she thought I was feeling "warm" and asked if I had a fever.  I told her I might, but I didn't think so.  When I got back to Bakersfield this evening, I was still not feeling well.  To satisfy my curiosity, I took my temperature.  It's 101 degrees.  I'm going to take it in stride, though.  In the past I would just "hole up" and feel miserable.  I think because of all of the reflections I've been writing this Advent, I have so much joy in anticipation of Christmas that I'm just not going to let it get me down.  In fact, I was making up a song on my way home to the hotel after getting the thermometer.  It was "I'll be sick for Christmas".  Sung to the tune of "I'll Be Home for Christmas".  I guess you had to be there.  lol.  But it's a good thing I will be going home tomorrow afternoon and have Friday off to recover before the actual Holy Day. 

I also had plenty of time on the drive back to Bakersfield to meditate on tomorrows readings.  It's short, because I think it's best if I get to bed early tonight:

Malachi speaks about how God will send a messenger to prepare the way before Him. This messenger is John the Baptist, who was to prepare us for the coming of Jesus. Just as John the Baptist was to prepare the way of the Lord, we are called to prepare for the coming of Jesus at Christmas. We must prepare ourselves in all we do so that God does not “come and strike the land with doom.” Today, it means to me that we mustn’t forget the true meaning of Christmas: the coming of Christ. We can’t get caught up with making humongous wish lists for presents. We need to examine the way we live our lives and ask ourselves: Is this how I want to celebrate the coming of Jesus Christ? Our focus needs to be on opening ourselves up to God during this season, rather than on opening presents.

Luke speaks of the naming ceremony for John the Baptist, born to Elizabeth and Zechariah. Previously, Zechariah believed it not to be possible for Elizabeth to be gifted with pregnancy due to her age, doubting God’s power for such a miracle; he was muted for such disbelief. But as Elizabeth was trying to name the baby John, a name not part of the family, Zechariah agreed (to everyone’s disbelief). As Zechariah allowed God to work through him, God was pleased and granted Zechariah the ability to speak again. We all need to do what Zechariah did and allow God to work through us.

As we reflect on the coming birth of Jesus, may we each be prophets of the Word of God both by mouth and action. May each of us allow God to work in our lives and listen to His call. May we become messengers and prophets to those around us. As this Advent season draws to a close, may we not forget the purpose of the Christmas season.

Magnificat!

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Today (Tuesday) was a pretty special day, especially for my mom.  It was 60 years ago today (December 21, 1941) that she and my dad got married.  It is also Dad's 103th birthday!  I've given glimpses of Dad before in this blog, here, and here.  I've never told his life's story, as remarkable as it is, because quite frankly, I couldn't do him justice.  I prefer to remember him has a humble, unassuming, perfect example of fatherhood.  And speaking of births........

As we get so near to Christmas, we are often drawn into the mystery of Christ’s birth. It’s a wonderful and glorious celebration of our Lord, but with just three days to go before Jesus is laid in the manger we are reminded of His mother and her commitment. In Wednesday’s Gospel, just before the birth of Jesus, we hear the Magnificat, or Canticle of Mary. Many have become familiar with this prayer through the Liturgy of the Hours, which the consecrated religious and many lay people participate in throughout the day, where it is read during Vespers each evening.

In examining Mary’s prayer and the readings from Samuel, there is a connection between the Old and New Testaments. We witness two mothers singing to the Father. Hannah, after a passionate prayer to the Lord, is granted a son. In her joy, she holds true to the promise that she made and offers Samuel to God at the Temple to stay with the priests in service of God forever. What immediately follows this story is the passage we see in the responsorial psalm. She praises the Lord for His power and strength, for He conquers evil and rewards the humble. I struggle to imagine the devotion that would be necessary to give up her only son, for whom she so desperately pleaded with the Lord to receive. Such a faith is what we strive for; to offer the Lord what we hold most dear and to be joyful in our sacrifice.

Mary’s response to Elizabeth echoes Hannah’s praise as she too exalts the Lord for His power and might. She thanks Him with great humility for the gifts that He bestowed on her. “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my savior” (Luke 1:46). We can feel the joy she has for the Lord. It’s the joy that we are reminded of each Christmas. More than excitement for presents or even the family that will be happily making my life much less quiet on Christmas day; it’s an excitement that “He has remembered his promise of mercy, the promise he made to our fathers, to Abraham and his children forever” (Luke 1:54,55)—The promise of a savior.

I pray that this Christmas we can find a greater joy for our faith. Reflecting on the past months, I know there is much room for improvement in my spiritual life. But the times where I found myself trying to surrender to the power of the Lord and rejoicing in His love were also the times where I became more devoted to prayer and excited about each opportunity I have to receive His Son in the Eucharist.

Joy to the world!

As humans we are very prone to succumbing to everyday stress and anxiety. Did I do okay on that last test? Does my hair look good today? How am I going to pay all of my bills? These everyday things stress us out so much that we don’t feel like we have a single moment to ourselves, never mind time to spend with God every day.

We probably use the word “joy” more times during this season than any other time of the year. We are all probably feeling a little more joyful, with having days off from work and school, seeing family for the holidays, and enjoying all of the delicious food that goes along with Christmas. There are still some “worriers and fretters” that dread holidays because they feel obligated to put on the best dinner, or be the best host or hostess, or maybe there is family friction they wish to avoid. For the most part though, the word during the Christmas season is “joy”.

But what is joy, and why do we have it at this time of year? I know that personally, I should take time everyday to praise God for something He has given me and be joyful about it. The Lord finds joy in each and every one of us every day, so I’m sure that we could all take a moment a day to express our joy for Him. And is it joy for the right reasons? And do we really feel joy?

Joy is not an absence of fear—although that’s a part of it. As one of today’s readings proclaims, “The King of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst, you have no further misfortune to fear.” If we have nothing further to fear, then we should have all the time in the world to spend praising God.

Joy is an emotion of great happiness. We can experience happiness for many reasons – a commitment to another in a relationship, a promotion at work, a significant accomplishment by a loved one, or the birth (or birthday) of a child (or grandchild, as happened in our household a couple of days ago!). But these events can and do happen throughout the year. They are not the “joy of the season” that is upon us.

But WHY should we feel joy at Christmas? We have this event in which we believe the Son of God is born as a human being in our midst. Our God, the God of Abraham, of Isaac, of Jacob, the God of the prophets, the one, true God, sent His Son to be one of us, to be human, to experience what we experience, to live as we live, and to die as we die. What does it say of the love God must have for each one of us that God would send His Son to live this life of ours and to give it up so freely for our salvation? How can we doubt God’s love once we understand this priceless gift?

But knowing is not the same as feeling. We might believe that Jesus is the Son of God, but how does that make us feel? Do we really feel joy at this time of year, the joy of knowing that God is in our midst? Or are we so distracted by the trappings of celebration, by the bustling of buying, by the hurrying about to get to this or that event, to shut down business activity for year end, to balance the books, to make year-end resolutions for next year, to relax with family and friends, that we don’t give ourselves the opportunity to feel the wonder, the awe, the incredible joy of knowing that this baby, Jesus, is the most unique baby in the history of humankind, because this baby, Jesus, is the Son of God. That this baby, Jesus, IS “God with us”.

Our challenge this season, then, is to go off by ourselves for a small piece of time to reflect on the awe of God in our midst in the form of the baby Jesus. My hope is that by being separate for a time from all that makes this season so special for us as humans, I can feel the divine in my life that is the baby Jesus.

And so my prayer today is for the grace to look beyond the pleasant distractions of this season of celebration, however wonderful they are, so I can feel the true joy of knowing that Jesus has come into the world for me.

Trust the loving embrace of God

Sunday comics are sometimes pretty poignant. Take today’s “For Better or For Worse” by Lynne Johnston:

Throughout this week we will again hear the angel of God delivering messages of joy, of unbelievable events, and of ordinary people being surprised and then growing into acceptance of God’s presence among them. It is a very well-known story for all of us...perhaps so familiar that, like Michael in the cartoon above, we zone in and out as we hear and/or read it: the announcement to Mary of her pregnancy, of Mary and Elizabeth ministering to one another in their extended visit, of the birth of John and Zachary’s unbelief turned into joy as he announces his son’s name, and then the story of the humble birth of Jesus.
Yet, these words and happenings, God’s caressing words of presence, “Do not be afraid,” can awaken us to God’s call in the midst of our lives today.
As I ponder these words this year, they are a comfort to me following the recent death of my brother. This year’s Christmas season brings an emptiness and a ‘letting go’.... a call to celebrate Bob and yet to acknowledge the loss of him in our midst. As Bob said quite often to several of us in his last few months, he was not afraid, but ready to ‘lift up his spirit’ with God. But it is we, who he left behind, who are in need of those words of assurance, “ Do not be afraid”—“I am with you.” Our faith and belief is that God is with us and with Bob...but our hearts have not yet caught up to KNOWING it.
How often do we find ourselves in day-to-day struggles and ‘have to do’s’ - not wishing to continue, perhaps unsure of ourselves or the project or the challenge of the day? It is times like these that we may very well experience raw fear - the unknown lurks and we are unsure of ourselves. Yet, it is in trying to do this ourselves – to find the courage within us to face our fears that we stumble...it is these times that God is present, whispering, “DO NOT BE AFRAID”.
Mary’s questions, “How can this be?” are very real. She found herself in the midst of an incredibly strange experience of being told something very frightening and awe-filled - that she was to be with child...who was to be God’s son!
Mary had tremendous faith in herself AND in her God to believe the angel’s message.... with all the questions of the future lurking.... that she was only betrothed (and not married) to Joseph...what would happen? What did it mean that her child was to be the Son of the Most High?
Mary was willing to be open to God with her questions, her fears, and her consternation. AND, Mary was willing to trust the angel’s assurance of God’s presence, in the midst of the questions, fears and unknown future.... and to move forward - “Let it be done according to your word.”
As we face our futures of unknown beginnings, or daily humdrum moments or a closing of life’s chapter, this is my prayer this season: May we allow God in ... open with our fears, longings, emptiness and emotional roller coasters.... to trust the loving embrace of God and be open to what may be revealed in these days, weeks and months ahead ...according to God’s word and promise.

Exchanging gifts

Christmas is fast approaching, and it’s now only a week away. Christian tradition is to exchange gifts. This idea led me to today’s meditation:

As a Catholic, I see Christmas as the anniversary of Jesus’ birth; the beginning of what has become God’s greatest gift to humanity: our salvation. How can any of us ever hope to give back a gift to God in comparison? We can’t, really. But we do have something to offer that He can take and use for as great a purpose as His Gift to us.

The readings on Sunday have the common theme of giving, which fits right into the Christmas spirit. They focus on those who gave as an offering to the Lord as well as those who didn’t. In the first reading, Isaiah tries to convince Ahaz—the king of Judah—to give his trust to the Lord to protect Judah from being overrun by the Assyrians. Ahaz refuses to do so, resulting in the eventual overrun of Judah. Isaiah then prophesizes to Ahaz of the coming Immanuel who will give everything He has to save Israel. The Psalms first give praise to the Lord for being our Benevolent Creator. Then they remind us of how much God has given to us, and why He deserves our praise. In the second reading, Paul reminds us what we have been given through the death and resurrection of Jesus, telling us to offer our obedience and faith in return. Finally, in the Gospel of Matthew, Joseph has a dream in which an angel tells him not to be afraid to accept Mary as a wife. Joseph takes Mary and the child in, giving her his protection and, most importantly, giving himself as a father to Jesus.

Each of these readings uses the idea of giving to present to us the Christ, who gave all of us His very life and much, much more than that. By His death and resurrection, He gave us the gift of salvation. He took on the burden of every sin ever committed before, since, and to come—He suffered under their weight, and bore them to death. I can’t even imagine the burden of just my sins alone, let alone the sins of the entire world. He gave this gift freely, expecting nothing in return. However, it is possible to give back to God! We can offer and unite our suffering to Him. Every day, we can wake up and say, “God, I offer you all the frustrations, stresses, and sufferings of this day. I lay them down at the foot of your cross. Work through them to bring me closer to you.” If God can offer His suffering for our sake, we can offer Him our own sufferings. Even the small ones can be given back to Him so He can work through them to help us grow in faith and obedience. If we think of Jesus every time we suffer, we are bound to grow in Him and suffering will seem so trivial compared to His love. Giving often bears greater reward than receiving.

Looking for concrete ways to proclaim "Emmanuel"

In this time of holiday hustle and bustle, it’s not easy to think about the people who are afflicted with injustices, poverty, and pitiful circumstances and anticipate their rescue. Conversely, it isn’t easy for the afflicted to be comforted by the good news that God is in their midst when they read it and hear it. Their experiences shape for them quite a different reality. It would seem that the lessons for today and the story of the birth of Jesus are irrelevant for the world in which we live. It’s a lot easier to reduce it all to a shopping adventure and family festivities—something concrete that we can relate to.

But it is more fitting at this time of Advent that we take out time to reflect on the message of peace and justice God sent in the birth of Jesus and to make our selves ready for it to be a concrete reality. Our preparation for Christmas should be anticipation that God will rescue us from all the sin and suffering in this world that separates us from God and from each other. That rescue is for all of us, regardless of our afflictions. We should all be anticipating the celebration of God’s justice and peace and how it fills our hearts and lives. And we should share that peace in some very concrete way with the poor and the afflicted so that they too will feel the presence of Emmanuel and experience a sense of the peace and justice God wills for us all.

As I grow older, I find myself anticipating more and more that peace and justice that the Psalmist says will flourish in fullness forever. The world is often a very cruel and unjust place. But the Christmas season is a special time when I can recognize that God is with us in the midst of it all. It’s a time to celebrate God’s glory and peace here on this earth. It is also a time to commit ourselves to more fully participate in helping to bring justice to the afflicted in very concrete ways.

There are several issues before Congress that will help promote peace and goodwill—the “Dream Act” and the ratification of the “START” Treaty are two such issues. I sent letters to my representatives today in support of this legislation. In my opinion (and that of the USCCB) these two issues are definitely geared to what Christ asks of all of us—that is, to love one another.

Want to do something even more concrete? How about serving meals at the Salvation Army on Christmas Day? What if you were to buy several blankets (they’re pretty inexpensive, usually less than $10 each) and hand them out to residents of the homeless shelter? Why not ask your pastor if there is a family in the parish who could use some groceries and take them shopping? Not all of us have the resources for this type of prayer in action, but they are good ideas that I have seen or heard about. We can also pray, pray, pray for those who have offended us in some way and ask Jesus to soften our hearts with the grace of forgiveness.

We usually get more blessings out of the advent season if we anticipate the coming of the Christ with peace and justice than if we anticipate the gathering of friends and family with food and gifts. We also feel that presence more when we center our anticipation in the midst of poverty and pain. While parties, presents and laughter are also gifts from God, we should not lose sight that only a privileged few enjoy them in this world. It bears repeating that the true gifts of Christmas are peace, justice, and love for everyone. It is my prayer that during this advent season, the anticipation that God rescues, renews, restores, and redeems us through the birth of Jesus is my heartfelt focus. I also pray that this time of anticipation will lead me to more concrete ways to share God’s peace and justice on earth.

MORE

In the readings for Friday we see the genealogy of Jesus. Jesus was not with us just for a particular moment in history! He is the Messiah longed for all through the ages. God sent many people to prepare the path for Jesus and their presence gave Jesus to the world.

Advent, especially, is the time of year we should ask ourselves, “How am I working to make Jesus present to the world around me?” As Saint Francis of Assisi is quoted, “Preach the Gospel always. When necessary, use words.” I find myself asking, “Do people in my workplace know my faith by the way I act?” Am I impatient with others? I need to have more patience to make Jesus present. Do I judge others without knowing the full story? I need to have more openness. Do I sometimes forget to treat people the way I should, the way I want to be treated? I need to have more love. I need to strive for “More”. When we have more patience, more openness, more love, we proclaim our Savior’s incarnation and make Jesus present to the world around us.

During this and every Advent season we are all called to look at how we are creating a path for Jesus in our world. We are called to question whether or not our actions bring Jesus’ presence in our community. We are called to “More”. More love. More kindness. More faith. More penance. More sacrifice. More prayer.

Feeling insignificant? Not to God, you're not!

NASA's Hubble Space Telescope snapped this panoramic view of a colorful assortment of 100,000 stars residing in the crowded core of a giant star cluster

I am the LORD, there is no other;
I form the light, and create the darkness,
I make well-being and create woe;
I, the LORD, do all these things.

Let justice descend, O heavens, like dew from above,
like gentle rain let the skies drop it down.
Let the earth open and salvation bud forth;
let justice also spring up!
I, the LORD, have created this.

For thus says the LORD,
The creator of the heavens,
who is God,
The designer and maker of the earth
who established it,
Not creating it to be a waste,
but designing it be lived in:
I am the LORD, and there is no other

Is 45:6c-8, 18, 21c-25

When I started to meditate on this today, I was really struck by how much God must love us. God created EVERYTHING! I saw a program on television the other day about the Hubble space telescope. Scientists have now “discovered” millions of galaxies even larger than our own Milky Way! Remember that galaxies are made up of millions of stars each. It completely overwhelms my imagination when I think about this. God has always known they were there—He created them! When you think about how He has known each one of us by name since before He created the heavens and the Earth, how can we even begin to fathom His love for us?

With this in mind, why is it so easy to feel alone or abandoned? Why does so much needless suffering and heartache occur in a world that God loves? Why do children die? Why are people oppressed? Those questions cannot be answered in a scientific or deductive manner, and it would really be a pity if they could. Faith would have no role in our lives if we could simply reason through the muddle and confusion that life often brings, finding the answers with our logic. Like Saint Ignatius at Montserrat, we must learn to lay down our swords and set off deeper into our personal faith journeys. That is where we can start learning to find Christ at work in this world and allow Him to work through us.

When we acknowledge our own powerlessness, our own inadequacies, we stand to gain something remarkable—a sense of wonder at God’s love, an appreciation for grace. This world is not perfect, we cannot explain why (although we do know that sin is the culprit), but we can work to improve it. We can do our best to make a difference everyday in whatever ways we can. To do that, though, to truly live in such a way, requires a level of faith that we must be actively pursuing: faith in action, faith driving us to action. If we can just stop trying to go through life without God and allow Him to help us work on simply being His servants, amazing things can happen. We become aware of Christ, and we yearn to be Christ for others. Every day is a chance to renew that surrender.

In rescuing us, God grants us power beyond even the stars, solar systems and galaxies—He grants us the power of love.

Footprints

Man, oh man! Am I ever sore today! I think it it’s a combination of factors; the drive to LA on Friday and back on Saturday, 5 full hours of yard work on Sunday (after Mass, of course!) and the drive to Bakersfield that evening. Then I moved a lot of trucks and trailers yesterday in Bakersfield improving the display for better transactions (I hope). I left there yesterday evening about 6 pm and drove to Fresno, so I can do the same at one of the centers here today. I had a restless sleep last night because of the pain in my muscles, so I got up pretty early and read the readings for Mass to prepare for the day and look for some kind of message to tell me it will be OK.


The readings begin today with a prophecy from Zephaniah who condemns the city (Jerusalem) for all of her evil deeds. But he follows with a prophecy of redemption and how God will cleanse the people and they will come to call on Him from the far reaches of the earth.

We then hear our Lord confront and condemn the Pharisees and how the Lord follows by telling the Pharisees that they completely missed what John the Baptist had preached and, as a result, sinners were entering the kingdom before them.

Many times in our lives we can take the path away from God. We make a wrong turn by the decisions we make. It seems that we only grow further and further away from our God. Sometimes it seems as though we may never get back and we will lose our important relationship forever. But we need not worry. God is here to protect us and give us second chances. He allows us to come back to him and He accepts us with open arms. He says we need not be ashamed of our deeds, because He will remove the damage they have done to us. He gives us His unconditional love and permits us to test the boundaries of His love, but always allows us the opportunity to come back and live in His love once again.

Oftentimes, when in pain or sorrow we feel as though God has left us for good. The truth is God never leaves us. Even in our darkest days when we think that nothing will ever get better, and we have lost His love forever, He is still there. Remember the poem “Footprints in the Sand” where a man is walking on a beach with God? He looks back on his life and the footsteps and sees two sets for most of his life, but at times, he only sees one set. He realizes that the times he sees only one set were in his darkest days. He turns to God and asks Him “Why, when I needed you most, did you leave me?” God simply replies that the times he speaks of, the darkest times in his life, were when He carried him. We must understand that God is always with us, even if it feels like He may have abandoned us. He is always right there beside us, or carrying us on our way.

After reading and reflecting on the readings today, I suddenly feel like I’m being carried. I just have to remember to unite my pain and discomfort today with His Passion and trust that it is being put to good use, converting sinners to Himself.

Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord!

Your ways, O Lord, make known to me;

teach me your paths.
Guide me in your truth and teach me,
for you are God my savior. (Psalm 25:4)

The Word of the Lord is meant to teach us about God's love, to guide us in ways of holiness and to lead us to everlasting life.

How should we respond to the herald's cry, "Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord"—by following all the cleverly planned commercial strategies that drain our energy and trick us to feel bright and jolly?

How about following the path marked out for us by Holy Scripture through the Holy Spirit? It reveals to us that preparation for the way of the Lord means hiding our hearts in the desert, a place devoid of distraction where only the things essential for life are important.

Take time then to really enjoy the happiness that God becoming Man is meant to give us - read your Bible, go to a quiet interior desert place, and "Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord."

Advent Man

”Advent Man.” That’s what my brother Bob’s pastor called him in his homily this morning during the Mass for Christian Burial held for my brother. It really was a beautiful Mass (as they all are), starting with the processional hymn, “Here I Am, Lord”.


The first reading was Wisdom 3: 1-9 read by my nephew Brian, followed by Psalm 42-43 sung by one of the parishioners. Then Bob’s sister-in-law Linda read 2Corinthians 4: 14, 5:1.

For the Gospel, the Mass "program" said Father Shea would read Matthew 11: 2-11. But instead, he chose Matthew 24: 42-46.  It was the perfect reading to lead him into his homily in which he described Bob as an “Advent man”.  I am in no way near as eloquent as Father in describing what he meant by this, but I’ll give the points that hit home with me. Father Shea said that, while he has only known Bob for about 2 years (since he became the pastor), it was plenty of time to get to know Bob’s character and his love for the Eucharist. He described how much care and respect Bob showed for our Lord when training new Eucharistic Ministers and when performing the duties himself at the hospital—even recently, when he didn’t really feel “up to it”. Anyone who really knew Bob knew this about him.

This is the way Bob kept his “eyes on the prize” that is at the end of this journey we call “life”. He truly recognized Jesus—Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity—in the Eucharist, and loved Him for His gift to us.  It is through his example (and my mother’s) that I came to fully believe the same, even at an early age.

Another point that Father Shea made is that Bob had some pretty difficult suffering for the last few years, and he felt it is Providential that Christ would call him home during this season of Advent as a reward for being “watchful”, and uniting his suffering to Christ's Passion as the Gospel (and Advent) exhorts us to.

All in all, it was a very moving Mass. Not many dry eyes in the house, as they say. I even saw Father wipe a tear from his eyes at one point. Usually, the priests are very stoic, but Bob was an exceptionally faithful man, who touched the very souls of most of the people whom he met. I will miss our all-too-seldom theological discussions.

His first-born son, Tim, gave his eulogy at the end of the Mass.  I don’t know how he got through it, but he did. He said he had not really prepared anything, but I don’t believe him. It was too good not to have been rehearsed or prepared. He took his bible up to the podium with him and quoted some scripture readings that he had read the night before his father died. He quoted from Sirach—the passage where Sirach exhorts fathers to teach their children well, so that they may be known through the sons’ actions when they themselves have passed on to their rewards. He also had a reflection on his father’s devotion to the Eucharist. He said ever since he can remember, at the words of Consecration (This is My Body, This is My Blood) his dad would beat his chest 3 times in remembrance of the centurion who exclaims to Jesus, “I am not worthy that you should come under my roof….” (Matt 8:8) Tim said this is what made the biggest impression on him growing up and clinched his own belief in the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist.  [As an aside, I also do this.  I'm not sure why, other than that I think Mom showed us to beat our chest 3 times and say, "My Lord and my God!" as each Species is held up after Consecration. It had (has) the same effect for me as the prayer, "Lord, I believe, help my unbelief!"]

After the burial rite at the cemetery, all of the mourners met for lunch nearby to remember the life of our Advent man. Lots of great stories, (some of them actually true), and a chance to share our love for Bob.  It wasn’t until I got home though that I noticed that the “program” for the Mass had the picture at the top of this blog entry on it. The picture was sketched by Tim the night his father went on to his final reward. I couldn’t begin to describe it as eloquently as Tim has drawn it. I’ll just let the picture tell Bob’s story for anyone who didn’t know him. At first glance, it seems like a pretty simple drawing. But to me, it sums up who Bob was and what he believed and how he was rewarded in the end. Isn’t this the same story--keeping the spirit of Advent alive within us all year 'round--that we all want for ourselves and our families?  That's a pretty good legacy.  Thanks, Bob.  Rest in His peace.

What's in a name (Revisited)?

I wrote a previous post with the title What's in a Name? with the story of Sts. Stephen and Gerard.  Tonight, I'd like to revisit the topic, except that there's a twist in this entry. 

After my post a couple of days ago when I mentioned the gifts of the Holy Spirit, I got to thinking--I couldn't, for the life of me, remember the name of the saint I took when I was confirmed.

Being the resourceful person I am (humble, too!), I found the e-mail address for the church I was attending when I was confirmed.  I wrote a letter with the facts as I knew them--that I was confirmed in either 1966 or 1967, the name of my sponsor (Albert Alva), and my name.  I also wrote that I was pretty sure I chose the name of Michael, Albert, or Gregory.  Three very "manly" saints.  They would be the names at the top of my list.  No other names even came to my mind. 

I got my reply via AOL today.  The woman who responded has a very good sense of humor.  Her email simply said, "Much to your SURPRISE, you chose none of the mentioned names.  You chose......"  Then she made me scroll down to the name.  I had a very good laugh most of the day when I thought of her creativity and wit in letting me know how bad my memory really is.

Where was I?  Oh yeah!  The name I chose was JAMES!  Now my dilemma is to try to figure out which James I had in mind when I chose him.  Or did I choose him?  In those days, if you didn't choose a name by a certain date one was chosen for you.  Knowing how I procrasinate, this may have been the case.  If it was, no wonder I couldn't remember!  But if I did choose the name, why?  Well, obviously it can't be a bad thing--he is a saint, after all.  But which one? 

James the Greater?  Hmmm, one of the "Sons of Thunder" and part of a "group within a group" of the Apostles, along with Peter and John.  These three Apostles alone were admitted to be present at the miracle of the raising of Jairus's daughter (Mark 5:37; Luke 8:51), at the Transfiguration (Mark 9:1; Matthew 17:1; Luke 9:28), and the Agony in Gethsemani (Matthew 26:37; Mark 14:33).

How about James the Lesser?   James was called to the Apostolate with his brother Jude; in all the four lists of the Apostles, he stands at the head of the third group (Matthew 10:3; Mark 3:18; Luke 6:16; Acts 1:13).  Of James individually we hear no more until after the Resurrection. St. Paul (1 Corinthians 15:5-7) mentions that the Lord appeared to him before the Ascension.  The Epistle of St. James reveals a grave, meek, and calm mind, nourished with the Scriptures of the Old Testament, given to prayer, devoted to the poor, resigned in persecution, the type of a just and apostolic man.

Thinking about the holy day of obligation tomorrow (The Feast of the Immaculate Conception) also reminded me that we will celebrate in a couple of days the appearance of Our Lady of Guadalupe, who appeared to another "St. James" of sorts.  Juan Diego is Spanish for John James.  Of course John and James were brothers, the sons of Zebedee.  I highly doubt that Juan Diego was the choice I made, since he was canonized just a few years ago.

After considering all that I read today and trying to apply them to my spiritual growth, I've decided it doesn't matter which James I was thinking of as a teenager.  It only matters what I am thinking now.  And right now, I think I would take any one of them as patron saint, if they will have ME.

Where's the line to see Jesus?

As the stores start displaying Christmas trees and the like, I wanted to share this song with you. I know you will enjoy it.

Here's the story behind the song as told by the singer:
While at the mall a couple of years ago, my then four year old nephew, Spencer, saw kids lined up to see Santa Claus. Having been taught as a toddler that Christmas is the holiday that Christians celebrate the birth of Jesus, he asked his mom, "where's the line to see Jesus"? My sister mentioned this to my dad, who immediately became inspired and jotted words down to a song in just a few minutes. After putting music to the words, and doing a quick recording at home, he received a great response from friends. He sent the song off to Nashville without much response, except for a Christian song writer who suggested adding a bridge at the end of the first chorus. My dad then asked if I wanted to record the song to see what we could do with it. I listened to the song, made a few changes to the words to make it flow better, and we headed to Shock City Studios. It was at the studio where Chris, owner and producer, rewrote the 2nd verse and part of the chorus... with goosebumps and emotions high, we were all hopeful and felt like we had something special. The demo was recorded in just under 2 hours and sent off again to Nashville ... still no response. Then 2 weeks before Christmas last year, my cousins Greg and Robbie decided to do a video to see what we could accomplish on YouTube. The first day we had 3000 hits and it soared from there. We received e-mails, phone calls, Facebook messages from people all over asking for the music, CD's, iTunes, anything... we had nothin'. After a couple of meetings with Chris following the amazing response, we got serious. We headed back into the studio this past spring... this time with guitars, drums, bass, pianos, choirs... the real deal.... and here we are today. Getting iTunes set up, a website put together, and loving that thousands upon thousands of Christians have come together... remembering the true meaning of Christmas. Out of the mouths of babes come profound truths that many adults can not understand. Hopefully Spencer's observation will cause people all over to reflect on the love of Jesus, and that one day we will all stand in line to see Him. We are most thankful to our Heavenly Father to have this chance to share our music with you. Merry Christmas everyone.

Love can never be divided, only multiplied

My nephew Alex posted the following on his Facebook page the other day; “If we all give more to each other, we all end up with more for ourselves.” When I finally figured out what he was trying to say (you have to admit, it sounds a little cryptic), it reminded me of something that parents find out after the birth of a second (or more) child—that love is never divided, only multiplied.



There is nothing like the love of a parent for a child. When Alicia was born, I discovered that type of love. It’s hard to describe. When Marilyn told me she was pregnant, I was worried. I didn’t know anything about raising a child! When I was in the delivery room, I watched as Alicia’s face appeared and she looked right at me! At that moment, I knew what paternal love is all about—it’s unconditional, no-holds-barred head-over-heels love. Nothing can take it away.


A couple of years later, Marilyn told me she was pregnant again. Again I was worried. I loved Alicia so much, how could I ever love another child so much? Would I have to “split” my love for them? Again, I didn’t have to worry. The minute Sarah was born, God gave me the grace to multiply my paternal love. I love each of my daughters the same—boundlessly. It has given me an understanding of just how much our Heavenly Father must love each of us! And he proved it to me today.


In the midst of our grief this week and last, I have been aching to be able to go with the family on this Sunday to Sacramento and welcome Sarah at the finish line as she finished her first-ever marathon. After all, I made a commitment to be a Eucharistic Minister and take our Lord to the hospital and to some homebound parishioners, and that commitment is very important to me. It’s also a little selfish, because it’s spiritually rewarding for me.


When I was told that she would be finishing about noon, I started calculating how to make it work. Certain things would have to happen for me to be able to make it on time.  First, I would have to go to the 8:30 Mass. No problem. Check that off my list. That would leave me one hour to visit the patients at the hospital and two homebound parishioners, because I had to leave Lodi by 10:30 to make it to Sacramento on time to see Sarah’s finish. It usually takes about 2 hours to perform my pastoral care, so I was pretty concerned I would have to miss out on her accomplishment.  During Mass this morning, my mind was still trying to reconcile the logistics of my dilemma. I used the Prayer of the Faithful to issue 4 petitions "in the silence of my heart". I prayed that the souls of my brother Bob, Wendy's father, and my friend Joe would be caught up in the Mercy of Jesus so they may share in the beatific vision of the Father. My fourth petition was, “Father, you are the greatest father of us all. You know how much I want to share in Sarah’s accomplishment. If it is your Will, please find a way for me to be there.”


After Mass, I went up to get the hosts for the hospital, and my good friend and co-pastoral care minister told me she had made arrangements for someone else to make the hospital rounds today! That left me with the responsibility of caring for only two homebound people! I was going to make it! Not only was I able to get to Sacramento on time, I made it with about a half-hour to spare! And, I didn’t have to pay for parking, because a spot opened up for me right across the street from the Capitol building, which is where the finish line was set up! Praise God for His loving understanding of my need to support my daughter!


What an accomplishment for Sarah as well! I am so proud of her. She is pretty proud of herself, as well she should be. This evening, she sent a short(!) journal of her experience that I thought would be nice to share. I hope Sarah doesn’t mind, but I edited some of it for length, and also because I thought the most interesting parts were her struggles with herself in overcoming her mental trepidations, as well as the physical challenges the run presented. So, here is Sarah’s analysis and observations of her performance as only she can tell them.


For more photos, go to http://s744.photobucket.com/albums/xx86/raggandi/A%20first%20for%20Sarah/


December 5, 2010 California International Marathon

Two years ago I had never run more than a mile. As a kid, I’d avoid P.E. like the plague. Now here I am, a marathoner! I just finished the California International Marathon. It still hasn’t hit me yet. I can’t believe I did it!

It all started when my good friend Caryn Crosthwait asked if I wanted to train with her for the 2009 Shamrock’n Half Marathon. We signed up for a training group and went into it with an open mind. I joined the run/walk training group hoping I’d learn to run a few miles. I ended up switching to the run group midway through and ran the entire race.


One of my most vivid memories from that training program was during a long weekend run. I felt great, healthy, strong, like my body was doing what it was built to do. Six weeks before, I’d never run more than a mile, but during that run I passed one of my coaches and shouted “I’m going to run a marathon before I’m 30!” I didn’t know if I really meant it after I said it, so I just stuck it in the back of my mind.


When I started dating Tony, we decided to train together for my second and third half marathons. I got faster and stronger every time. Tony taught me a lot about not only the physical aspects of distance running, but also the mental aspects of it. He showed me that I could improve my physical race just by improving my mental race. Through his example (70.3 without training, 26.2 while sick – jeeze) and his words, he convinced me that I was capable of far more than I would have ever thought. I’ve never played a sport. I hated sports. I have always envisioned myself as weak, not athletic, always at the back of the pack. Tony has consistently reminded me that there is no reason to believe that, and that I can be whatever kind of athlete I choose to be. So I decided I wanted to be a marathon runner.


I knew if I did run a marathon, I’d want CIM to be my first. The course goes from Folsom to Sacramento, and the finish line is a block and a half from my office. It’s as local as you can get, plus I’d read it was fast and a good race for first-timers. CIM is always in December. I turn 29 in February, so I knew if I wanted to do a marathon before I was 30, I could attempt to do it this year, then if I failed, I still could do it in 2011 and finish a few months before my 30th birthday. After asking Tony, Caryn, and a Fleet Feet coach what they thought, I decided to sign up for the Fleet Feet training group for CIM.


Training went well. The first part of training got us through the Urban Cow Half Marathon, my favorite half marathon course (because it starts and finishes at the park across the street from my apartment). I wanted to do the half in less than 2 hours but missed my goal by 50 seconds. I blame a bad fueling plan and starting out too fast. But the training was flawless. I trained hard and smart, and really improved my running. I went into the second half of the training feeling great. When I did my first more-than-half-marathon-distance training run at 15 miles, I did a mostly uphill route and did great. The next week, I ran 17 miles in terrible wind and rain. The next week, I got a pain in my butt/upper thigh that I just could not shake. I kind of couldn’t walk or sit correctly. I was so frustrated! I started to really freak out, thinking I might not be able to finish the program and meet my goal. By then I’d come so far and I wasn’t going to let anything get in my way. I ran 20 miles not knowing what would happen. Luckily, it got better. I spent 10 of the most painful minutes of my life with this sports injury guy, and whatever he did made it better, thank goodness. Still, I was nervous about doing long-term damage and/or not finishing, so I really took my training down a notch. I skipped the 22 miler and I focused on staying healthy. My coaches said if I could run 20 miles, I could run 26.2. Ultimately, I think I could have and should have trained harder the last several weeks, of training, but live and learn. I still finished.






I was kind of a nervous wreck the week before the race. Whenever I saw the capitol building (which is daily) I’d burst into tears. I made 5 race-related lists. I obsessed about the chance of rain. And I think I psyched myself out a little bit, too. Driving the course helped demystify it, but I couldn’t help thinking “they drop you off in Folsom in the dead of winter and make you run home. Shit.”


This morning went pretty smoothly. We got downtown right at 5am, got a parking spot right across the Citizen Hotel where there were buses lined up, and were on the road by 5:15. There was a HUGE line outside the Sheraton, which was where we had originally planned to go. The buses got us to the start line around 6:15. We went straight for the porta-potties, just like everyone else. Then we went back to the bus to get our stuff in order and I fretted over whether to bring a long sleeved shirt and/or a rain jacket. I ended up bringing both, ditching the long-sleeved shirt at mile 2 or so, and the jacket soon after. (Thank goodness it wasn’t raining, and thank goodness it wasn’t 28 degrees like it was last year. I was so thankful for the wonderful weather. Running in shorts and a t-shirt on a December morning? Thank you God for giving me great weather and allowing me to live in sunny California!) We waited like less than 5 minutes at the start line. The timing could not have been better.


We found our friend Jeff at the beginning, and stayed with him for a while. It was great to be able to run with him. It was super fun to watch him uncomfortably bodyglide himself. The race started easy and fun. The best line of the whole day, courtesy of an older runner: “You ran a 100-mile race? That must have been a good colon cleansing!”


The course is pretty downhill for the first mile or so. We jogged, chatted, ditched our clothes, and settled in easy through mile 5 or so. Even the hills felt ok at first. But then they didn’t. By mile 8, my feet hurt and my legs were starting to burn. I usually don’t feel like that until at least miles 13-15! Luckily we passed two of our Fleet Feet coaches around mile 10 or so, right on a gnarly hill. Coach Russ ran alongside me for a few yards and helped get me up the hill. He and his wife Tina were such amazing, nurturing, encouraging, inspirational coaches. I almost cried when I saw them, and they seemed genuinely excited to see me and help me.

I was struggling to get to the halfway point, and the hills were killing me. I walked up a few hills, which was frustrating but felt necessary. What kept me going was knowing that when I got to the half, my family would be there, and the hills would be almost over. When I saw my family near the half, I was so excited. My mom, grandma, aunt Vickie, cousin Paige, and niece Lily were there. And I was excited to see my sister Alicia there, since she had told me she had to work. Mostly though, I was excited to be able to stop and have them take my jacket. I was feeling crappy.


The next several miles were rough. My legs were starting to get really tight. The hills were hurting and psyching me out. My back started to really ache, too. And something was going wrong with my fueling and hydration plan. I felt like I needed the fuel and water, but that my digestive system was doing nothing but letting it slosh around in my insides and make me nauseous. None of these things on their own were unbearable, but in the aggregate they were enough to take me out mentally. I started taking a lot of walking breaks, and the walking breaks got longer and longer. It was not fun. Tony was being great. He was trying everything he could to keep me motivated. I wanted to quit, but both he and I knew I wouldn’t. He helped me get my head back in it. He made me recite some of the affirmations I’d written for myself the night before. He didn’t let me say negative things. He helped me alter my fueling plan and helped keep me running as much as possible. But it was tough. I felt like I was disappointing him and myself every time I’d start walking, but then when I would run, everything would hurt again and I’d have to stop. It was frustrating!


I didn’t have a solid goal time in mind. Mostly I just wanted to finish in time to get my medal (6 hours), but I assumed I’d be able to do it in less than 5 hours. Pace charts predicted I could do it in less than 4 and a half hours, but I wasn’t going to even worry about trying to do that. So I wasn’t watching the clock too much, but when I realized I wouldn’t make it in less than 5 hours, I was a little disappointed. We saw the 5 hour pace group pass us and that kind of sucked. What got me through though, was realizing around mile 18 or so that even if I walked the rest of the way, I’d finish in less than 6 hours. I was going achieve my goal of finishing the marathon today no matter what! That felt good.


Right around mile 19 we saw Coach Ryan riding his bike. He rode alongside me for a while and encouraged me. Just talking to him was a nice distraction. He told me I looked the same as I did during training runs, so I must be feeling ok. I felt bad, but I couldn’t articulate at that point what exactly was making me feel crappy, so I just tried to shut up and keep going. Ryan told me that it was going to get easier soon. He said we’d have to work hard mentally for only the next 2-3 miles, and then the last 3 or so miles would fly by since there would be so many spectators through midtown. I thought, ok, I can do that, and he ended up being right.


The race organizers put a “wall” at the mile 20 marker, since that’s when many people hit the wall, where they bonk and feel like they can’t go on. I feel like I’d hit my wall back at mile 14 and was beginning to get a bit of a second wind. I was thrilled to pass this point because it was such a mental block for me. The longest I’d ever run before was 20 miles. When I ran 20 in training, I couldn’t imagine having to run 6 more. But today, when I hit 20, I realized how right my coaches were – if you can run 20, you can run 26.2 I was so close.


At that point I also started to realize that I hadn’t used the bathroom since 6am. Oops. Maybe I lacked water. Maybe I was just too tired to know whether I had to go. Either way, I decided it’d be a good idea to take a potty break, if anything for the chance to sit down for a few seconds. Oh! And right before this was one of the best parts of the race. Someone was handing out orange slices. That was the best tasting, most refreshing thing ever.


The last few miles of the race are somewhat of a blur. It started going by fast and I started feeling better, but it was still a challenge. We had to walk a lot. It was by far the best part of the race though, despite the discomfort.


I started hyperventilating a little. That was scary. But I quickly got that under control without anyone noticing. That’s a BIG DEAL for me. I’ve battled anxiety and panic attacks for years, and health/safety issues like that area huge trigger. Being able to remain calm and get myself out of it within seconds is one of my biggest accomplishments in the last 5 years – no joke. I mean, normally if I hyperventilated, I’d stop everything and find myself an EMT, stat. That’d be the end of the day for me. But this time I was just like, hm, I’m hyperventilating, I should calm down. And I did that WHILE running a marathon. Holy cow what got into me? I even had chest pains off and on through the last several miles and was able to convince myself it was just muscle fatigue and kept going, even though my heart felt like it was racing. I mean, if that’s not an accomplishment for me, I don’t know what is.


At mile 25 we saw Russ and Tina again, which was super exciting. They were genuinely excited to see us finishing. They really cared about our training group, and having that support was priceless. Russ fixed my shoelaces once in training and took care of a chronic foot-numbing problem I’d bee having. He joked “that’s what the $150 gets you in this program.” Well, getting me up the hardest hill and getting me through the last mile and the genuine care for my success throughout the whole process was priceless, worth way more than the money I dropped on training.


When we got to Capitol Park, I was like, wow, this is really going to happen. For weeks, when I’d take my daily walk around the park (a one mile loop) at lunch, I’d walk that last part and imagine getting to the finish line. And now I was almost there! I passed my office and then we rounded the corner to the finish line. Tony and I grabbed hands and ran through together, as planned. Five hours, 14 minutes. Tony had to cross in the women’s chute, but he didn’t mind. And then I saw my smiling family! My dad was even able to make it, which was an awesome surprise.


I thought crossing the finish line would be more emotional, but I think at that point I was too tired to care all that much. It felt good, and it was exciting, but I wasn’t bawling like I expected to be. I also didn’t feel as terrible as I thought I might, which was actually a little frustrating. I thought, all that walking and whining and now I feel fine? I should have run faster! I shouldn’t have taken so many walking breaks! But then I think about the discomfort I’d been in earlier and let myself off the hook a little bit. Could I have done it faster? Yeah, probably, but I’m not going to beat myself up about it. It was still hard, and I finished, and I finished healthy, so I’m ok with that. I’m so thrilled to have finished at all.


My legs burned during the race (in fact at one point they started cramping up but Tony’s electrolyte pills saved me), but the worst burning I experienced was while waiting in line for the food. The line wasn’t too long, but felt so slow since we were both in pain. I think I darn near broke Tony’s legs. Going so slow and walking so much was not good for him. Our legs always feel worse when we go slow. They feel much better when we run fast, but that just wasn’t an option in this race. The long slow pounding took its toll on our legs. But the pain I felt waiting in this line wasn’t as bad as the pain I felt after my 20 mile training run, so that was cool, but again I felt like shoot, I should have run harder if I feel somewhat ok now. Shouldn’t I be puking or crying or falling over?


After we got food, we took a few pictures in front of the capitol and the Christmas tree. It was a nice setting. I definitely needed pictures of us in our medals and foil blankets. Dude, those space blankets were awesome. Who knew a piece of foil could be so comfy and warm. Coach Ryan had told us earlier that we wouldn’t want to take it off, and that turned out to be true.


I knew we needed to eat ASAP, but food sounded disgusting after the race. But seeing my family had left at 7am and it was after 1pm, I knew that even if we didn’t want to eat, they needed to, so we went to lunch at Dad's, a restaurant we like in my neighborhood. By the time the food came, I was ready to eat, and I ate quite a lot. It was great to be able to sit down, eat, and talk about the race. I was so glad my family was there.


Showering when I got home was awesome, as was putting my feet up. I thought about how badly we felt after we came home from backpacking and I realized I feel better now than I did after that. Again, I felt like “if I feel ok, maybe I should have worked harder!” But I can’t think like that. I have to remember, I finished a marathon. Holy cow, that’s a big deal.


So, the damage: one almost-injury which is pretty much fine now, one black toe which didn’t fall off (which I’m kind of disappointed about – no cool war wounds?), burning achy stiff legs, sore abs, sore back, sore arms, lats, and chest, a few blisters (but overall this wasn’t an issue because tech socks are a godsend), hardly any chafe because bodyglide is the most awesome thing ever invented, a few bloody toes during training runs, a lot of salty sweat, and not too many tears. Not bad!


The race was really well run. The staff and volunteers were great. I think I’d do this again. During the worst parts of the race I was thinking I didn’t want to, but as soon as I finished I started planning for my next races. I know I can do it. I know what I have to improve upon next time, too: more hill training, more consistent training at the end, a few more 20+mile runs, a better-practiced fueling and hydration plan, and more positive thinking. The mental stuff is the hardest and the most important. I’m frustrated that the mental stuff got to me, that I psyched myself out so many times, but I have to remember how bad I was a few years ago, when I wouldn’t even leave the house without a purse full of emergency supplies, an exit strategy in case I had a panic attack, and a whole lot of worry. I thought I was fragile. I never thought I’d run a marathon. No way. But I just did. I ran a marathon. I keep looking at my medal and going “California International Marathon. Wow.”


As much as I want to take credit for this accomplishment, I have to acknowledge the people who got me there. Tony, the friends and family who were out on the course, and the coaches made all the difference. I truly don’t think I could have finished without them. I would love to be able to do something like this by myself, but I’m not too proud to admit that I absolutely needed other people’s support. I am so grateful to everyone who came out, even the strangers. People’s kind words and encouragement got me across that finish line. My legs, my lungs, my strong will, those all helped, but it’s seeing friends and family on the sidelines that gave me what I needed to finish.


Wow. It still hasn’t completely hit me that I finished a marathon. And I got to do it with Tony by my side, which makes it that much sweeter. And I don’t feel too sore or tired. I guess that means I have to run faster next time!

Most of the parts I edited out of Sarah's narration were accounts of friends who were there along the way to help spur her on to this acheivement.  I want to thank all of them as well for their encouragement, especially Tony--it takes a special kind of man to deliberately hold back from performing at his own top level of ability to support the woman he loves.  Thank you so much.