Dads

"Whenever you think you understand what you're looking at, take a giant step back and look at the bigger picture. It sure don't look the same on a larger scale, does it?" -My Dad

In our family we never stand on ceremony. Father's Day is "just another day in my life, kid." Of course that will never stop me from picking up the phone and enjoying a nice conversation with Dad.

If Dad is anything, he's consistent. Aside from his white hair he even looks the same as he did when I was just a baby. Most of the time, the conversation is pretty much the same. We talk a little home maintenance, a little finance, a touch of politics and he always brings it home with "love you much" in his unmistakably resonant baritone.

Our visits are also pretty much the same. We sit around, shoot the breeze, reminisce a little, perhaps tell a couple of stupid jokes, take a nap and then head back home.

Years ago it drove me nuts, but the older I get, the more I rely on that consistency. I like knowing that no matter how much things might change in my life, Dad will always be the same.

Just like our Father in Heaven.

As we spend today celebrating our dads and the great gift of Fatherhood, may we all remember to celebrate the great love of our Heavenly Father as well.

The Year Of The Priesthood

...You must never forget that priests are, and that they remain, men. God does not perform a miracle to wrest them from the human state.

The priesthood does not of itself give a person the power to do everything or to excel in everything. It is important to remember this lest you fall into a very old error...that of dehumanizing the priesthood and consequently of setting the priest outside of ordinary life.

That does great harm for by thus isolating him, as unbelievers do, to the exclusive realm of ceremonies...he is deprived in good part of his reason for being. If men refuse to pass through him, he no longer can be, at least fully, their mediator.

--Cardinal Suhard

(source: www.prayersforpriests.com)

You Can't Always Follow Your Heart

"You can't always follow your heart, because your heart can be deceived. You have to lead your heart." When Michael shared this very simple, yet very powerful statement with Caleb in the Providence Films production titled Fireproof starring Kirk Cameron, it marked a pivotal moment for Caleb as he began a journey of faith in God and a heartfelt attempt to save his failing marriage.

Michael is right. The heart CAN be deceived. Wasn't Eve's heart deceived by the serpent? Wasn't Adam's as well? When we spend too much time analyzing how we feel about everything, how can we really make the best decisions for ourselves? When we "follow our hearts", aren't we really only serving ourselves, living to satisfy our own feelings and emotions?

That's the lesson Michael had to learn before he could really find out whether or not his marriage could be saved. If you haven't seen it yet, Fireproof is a well-spent two hours--even if your marriage is fireproof already.

A Voice From Within

“…he who knows not himself cannot truly know me and my justice. Would you have me show you how much the world is in error concerning my mysteries? Then open the eye of your understanding and look at me.”

(from The Letter of Catherine of Siena on which her dialogue is based)

When Pope John Paul II took his final journey to his own death, he meditated upon the Stations of the Cross. In recalling Christ’s courageous act of dying, perhaps he found strength to face his own act of dying. As he took his last breath, his soul reached out from within him to our Lord Jesus Christ, who was forced to walk a miserable road to his death on a cross.

The Christian walk is a hard one. We ignore the fact that the world is temporary, and that the soul is eternal. With our backs to the Lord, we waste an awful lot of time on the fruits of this world. Our sinful state keeps us occupied on our humanness, rather than on the Lord dwelling within us, who made us and loves us. Some people go through their entire lives and never listen to that outcry from within them. Quite a few go to great lengths to block it out, and some even project onto others so they don’t have to face it. That outcry is their soul longing for The Lord, but trapped by a will which lacks true knowledge of itself. Our souls are inconsolable, except for the Lord.

A few months ago I provided music for a day of reflection. I love being a part of these events, because I learn so much. Fr. John discussed with us the saving power of our Lord as he walked his way of the Cross. He reminded us that it wasn’t just Christ’s death that saved us. It was how he lived his dying. We know the story—leaders saturated with pride sent Christ to his death, deaf to the voice within them, and refusing to see themselves for what they really were. All of that pain, hurt, betrayal, humiliation, the horror that is a crucifixion, went to the cross with Him, and he let it all die with Him. “Forgive them,” He said, “for they know not what they do.”

If our God is a just God, then His justice must be mercy.

Lord Almighty, Father of justice and mercy, help us overcome whatever obstacles that prevent us from wanting to know our true selves. Let us hear that voice within that longs for the Love and Peace that is You. In your great mercy, fill us with a desire to know ourselves as we truly are--as your creation, here to love and serve You, to love and serve each other. We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ. AMEN.

Singing To The Lord

Mass itself is perfect worship without music, because we receive the Lord in His word, and then we receive his Body in the Eucharist. I fully appreciate daily Masses without music, because I realize that music is not the substance of worship, and therefore not really a necessity. Music is, however, a wonderful enrichment to worship. As the USCCB document titled Sing To The Lord: Music In Divine Worship states, "singing together in church expresses so well the sacramental presence of God to his people." Even though we don't attend Mass to be entertained, Mass is far more meaningful and enjoyable with well-chosen music woven through it. As Father Ed always says, "Music is at the service of Liturgy."

This is why I take planning music seriously. I spend some time in prayer before selecting music for any Mass or prayer service I might be planning. I take into consideration the Church calendar, the time of year, the purpose of the paritcular Liturgy (I will plan a Sunday Mass differently than I plan a retreat prayer service) and the day's Scripture readings. I rarely rely on any publisher's canned Liturgy planning guides to help me, and I NEVER just pick songs based solely on their aesthetic merit. I am also quite careful to obey as best I can Church teaching on music in Liturgy. After all, if you are living and moving in the Holy Spirit, you will have no problem falling in line with Church teaching, because the Church, founded by Jesus Christ, is also living and moving in the Holy Spirit.

*

With each Mass, prayer service or function I plan, I grow more and more certain that the Holy Spirit guides me completely in the process. As I planned the Feast of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, for example, I kept getting this "vibe" to include a song about social justice. At first, "Go Make A Difference" popped into my head. Then as I leafed through our parish hymnal, it seemed to open by itself to a song titled "Go, Be Justice". If I had a hymnal in front of me, I'd type up a couple of lyrics for you; instead I can only tell you it's message: as we leave Mass, we take Christ's Body into the world, and it's our responsibility to represent Him here, even to the point of challenging the powers that be when they defy the laws of God.

I was not confident in the selection, as Sunday was really supposed to be a celebration of the Sacrament. A hymn like "O Sacrament Most Holy" seemed much more appropriate, so I decided right before Mass started that was the way I would go. Then I heard Father's homily. "The Catholic Church's Tradition of social justice," he said, "is a natural response to Christ's Body and Blood living within each of us." If that isn't a big DUH, GINA, I don't know what is. Now it's very clear to me that Father wove the readings from Exodus (24:3-8) and Hebrews (9:11-15) with the Psalm of the day (116), and reminded us exactly why Christ gave us His Most Holy Body and Blood at the Last Supper (Mark 14:12-16, 24-26).

In August for a few weeks, the Bread of Life discourse from the Gospel of John will be proclaimed:

"I am the living bread that came down from heaven;

whoever eats this bread will live forever;

and the bread that I will give

is my flesh for the life of the world." Jn 6:51

...for the life of the world.

Christ didn't give Himself to His Church so that we could go home and lay on the sofa watching TV. He gave us his Body to give us the strength to do His will. So, since it was quite perfectly at the service of Mass, we were sent forth in peace to love and serve the Lord singing "Go, Be Justice". Who am I to defy the Holy Spirit?

Monday, Monday

I let out a heavy Monday morning sigh as I sat down at my desk and turned on my computer. I stared at my to-do list for a moment before I began mentally breaking down my tasks and planning out my week. My job in Business Development for a local software company is nothing more than a never-ending process of proving my worth. A chain of successes are quickly forgotten. One failure, though, is permanently etched in the memories of my managers.

I work hard to avoid failures; but they are inevitable, especially when the economy is in decline and no one's buying. Still, as far as the world is concerned, I am considered fortunate to have a good paying job with full benefits. I therefore am obligated to work very hard in order to keep it.

A realization such as this makes the Communion Aniphon at morning Mass today all the more meaningful:

I can rely on the Lord; I can always turn to him for shelter. It was he who gave me my freedom. My God, you are always there to help me! Ps 17:3

For that half hour this morning in the presence of the Lord I was free. No to-do lists or tasks, no cold-calls to make, no trade shows, no special requests from my manager or from my VP. I didn't have to bring anthing that proves my worth. My simply being present was enough.

Tick Tock

This song is nearly 20 years old. I first heard it while working at the Flat Iron Cafe in Cleveland, OH. It's an album called "Family Style", recorded by Stevie Ray Vaughan and his brother Jimmie Vaughan of The Fabulous Thunderbirds. Stevie Ray died in a helicopter crash before the album's release.

Whenever I hear this song, I remember that the Lord doesn't just dwell in the churches, but in all of us.



True story.

Let It Shine

You are the light of the world. A city set on a mountain cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and then put it under a bushel basket; it is set on a lampstand, where it gives light to all in the house. Just so, your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father. Mt 5:14-16

Fr. Stan Fortuna most definitely lives this scripture. Through his rap and jazz CD's, live concerts, books, the Web, or any other form of media that he can use, he's making a difference.

This 5-minute piece on the Mass makes me wish I had gotten my you-know-what out of bed to worship this morning.



CLICK HERE to visit Fr. Stan Fortuna on the Web.

My Elevator Pitch

Jennifer F Asks the following question on her (fabulous) blog called "Conversion Diary":

OK, Christian readers. Here's a scenario for you:

You and a young man, perhaps in his early 20's, step into an elevator at the same time. You're both going to the tenth floor. He notices something that indicates that you're a Christian (maybe you're wearing a cross necklace, or he saw a bumper sticker for your church on your car outside, etc.)"

I don't believe in God or anything like that, but you seem like a reasonable enough person," he says as the doors close. "I'd be interested to know: why are you a Christian?"

You have about 40 seconds to answer. What do you say?

Over the years, I have been in various conversations with non-believers. Whether they identify themselves as atheist, agnostic, secular-humanist or some other category title, every conversation eventually comes to a screeching halt. No explanation I can offer to a person who doesn't believe in God will suffice, because their parameters of acceptance are simply too narrow. It's the irony of enlightenment: you're only enlightened if you accept a worldview that fits into very specific, very narrow parameters.

How do you explain to a person (who states outright that he doesn't believe in God) that not only do you believe in God, but that you believe He is a being beyond your comprehension who created all things in existence and that you have a relationship with this being in all three of His persons?

I don't think I would answer his question directly.

Instead, I would give him a little food for thought. I would hand him a little piece of paper--a receipt, a note, a business card, a voided check (tear off the routing numbers at the bottom. No sense in being careless.)--through which I've poked a hole with a pen or pencil. I'd ask him to close one eye and look through the hole with the other eye. I'd then stand behind him, and ask him the following question: "Without turning your head or using any other evidence besides what you can see with your eye through that little hole, why do you believe I'm standing behind you?"

Allow the message to sink in for a couple of seconds before saying, "It's hard to explain? You just know what you know?" I suppose I could hit the guy with some Justin Martyr, Augustine or Tertullian, or offer him a personal witness, but ultimately I think keeping it simple, non-defensive and sincere would be the way to go.

"You ask why am I a Christian? It's hard to explain. I just know what I know. Soooo, why do you ask, my friend?"

Here At The Table

I snuck in through the side door, tiptoeing toward the makeshift chapel set up in St. Columba’s parish hall. It just figured. The one day I manage to escape work early enough to get to daily Mass on time is when the Cathedral would be closed during weekdays for repairs, and I have never been to St. Columba’s parish hall before. By the time I found it, we were already at the Psalm.

There were plenty of seats available. My usual M.O. is to find a pew all to myself. Even in this temporary venue I had every intention of passing by this tiny black woman who took up three chairs with her stuffed shopping bags. Her little denim hat and giant plastic-rimmed glasses covered her eyes. Her jet-black wig was combed neatly into a bob, and her mismatched outfit appeared clean. She flashed me a shimmering pink-lipsticked smile as I stopped and met her gaze. I smiled back as I slid into her row and took the 4th seat in next to her treasures.

As mass went on, my little homeless neighbor began making odd grunting noises. She even let out a few soft “yeah’s” and an occasional “mmmmm-hmmmmmm”, but not in response to anything Father said. She fidgeted a lot. I tried to concentrate on Mass, feeling her eyes on me, as if she was watching me to see what she was supposed to do when. Clearly she wasn’t Catholic. I knelt down on the hard floor during the consecration. My little neighbor sat at the edge of her chair instead. I stole a quick look at her during the Lord’s Prayer. She prayed with her head back, her eyes closed, and her hands up like high she was being arrested. I giggled to myself, watching my little homeless neighbor trying to blend in with the rest of us.

I knelt down again on the hard floor after the Lamb of God. I think my little neighbor got an inspiration to do the same. With no kneelers or bolted down pews for leverage, though, the poor thing got stuck on the ground. I saw her eyes then, wide with panic, and even though she tried to keep her voice down, we could all still hear her uh-oh's and ohhh my's as she knelt there, stuck. I immediately reached over and grabbed her under her arm. With the help of another attendee, we hoisted her to her feet. I caught her eyes and smiled at her as she straightened out her too-big denim skirt.

She followed me to communion.

“The Body of Christ.”

“Thank you,” she replied. I heard the snap as she broke her host in half. On the way back to my seat I saw her slip a piece into her pocket as she ate the rest. I took a peek inside the top of one of her bags, which contained a couple rolls of toilet paper and some crumpled newspaper, among some other things that I couldn’t get a look at in a quick glance. I dropped to my knees in a sudden wave of emotion as it occurred to me that The Body of Christ was most likely this poor homeless woman’s only food yesterday.

She gathered her bags into one hand just before Mass ended, and as Father sat, she stood up to leave. Instead of leaving, she stood right in front of me and put her empty hand out. I immediately took it in mine. “God bless you,” I said, meaning it like never before. I squeezed her hand with love and looked into her dark, withered face.

Jesus looked right back at me, holding my gaze for a moment before turning away, before limping out of the hall toward the University campus across the street from St. Columba’s Cathedral.