Prayer Request: An Update

A week ago I came to you all asking for prayer for Scott from Washington D.C. Thank you all!

Scott's lungs cleared up enough that he could undergo surgery, and as far as I know, it went very well. In addition, his broken vertabrae did not do any major damage his spinal cord. He can make a fist and move his feet, even in the induced coma. He will have a long road to recovery ahead. Please continue to pray for Scott, and for his family as they all walk this road together.

I have witnessed the power of prayer in my life and in the lives of my friends and loved ones over and over again. When I think of all of you, from wherever you are around the world, I see the Gospel come alive. Particularly my favorite story from the Gospel of Mark:

When Jesus returned to Capernaum after some days, it became known that he was at home. Many gathered together so that there was no longer room for them, not even around the door, and he preached the word to them. They came bringing to him a paralytic carried by four men. Unable to get near Jesus because of the crowd, they opened up the roof above him. After they had broken through, they let down the mat on which the paralytic was lying. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, "Child, your sins are forgiven." Mk 2:1-5

I've posted about this verse before; one reader even commented about how Jesus saw the faith of the paralytic's friends. Certainly, Jesus has seen our faith, too. He sees it in our actions, as we gather together using this miraculous tool we call the Internet. Haven't we just cut a proverbial hole in the roof and lowered Scott into the presence of Jesus?

What a testament to the power of prayer.

Endings...Or Beginnings?

I didn't expect a full house today when I walked through the side door of St. Columba Cathedral on my way to confession.


Cardinal Mooney High School's graduating class, rehearsing for Baccalaureate tonight, were giggling, chattering, fidgiting and just about bursting out of their skin. As I waited in the confessional line (yes, there really is a line for confession), I watched the students process down the center aisle. Not a single one could hide their feelings. They were confident, scared, excited, nervous, worried, anxious, jittery, and uncertain about everything except one fact: tonight they will process down that aisle into the end of life as they know it.

We disciples had our own procession going on as well. Those of us waiting in the confession line had more practice at hiding our feelings, but believe me, we had 'em too, right down to that certainty of an end to life as we know it.

But isn't an end to one thing also the beginning of something else?

I'll admit, the commotion made my examination of conscience a little more difficult, but watching those students, their emotions stirring about in all different directions, suddenly gave me hope for the future. And as each disciple emerged from the confessional lighter, having left life as we knew it behind on the confessional floor at the feet of our Lord Jesus, I found myself rejoicing in the new life I was about to grab with both hands when I walked through the door and sat before Father.

I offered the first prayers of my new life with joy in my heart, and a few extra for the kids, hopeful not just in my own new beginning, but in that new beginning for the graduating class of 2009, emerging from church bursting with anticipation, ready to grab onto those new lives that await---yep, with both hands.

The Heart of Jesus

I think of [the Holy Spirit] as the love that dissipates all darkness and gives perfect light, that supplants all ignorance with perfect knowledge. -St. Catherine of Siena

About a year ago someone asked me how "we Catholics" could spend so much time focusing on the cross.

My answer to this question at the time was simply, "how can you live the resurrection had there not been death?" I have grown so much since then.

Today I began my day with week two's morning meditation of a five-Wednesdays Devotion to St. Catherine of Siena. I found it last month while researching a post for her feast day. Today's meditation, titled "St. Catherine's Love for the Heart of Jesus", actually draws us into His wounds, particularly His pierced side: "The Passion of our Lord being ended...could not suffice to manifest to us His Infinite Love; therefore He desired that His side should be opened to us, as if to reveal to us how much His Will and desire even surpassed the sufferings endured...All that Christ did for us was done through the love of His Heart." It's no wonder this Doctor of The Church bore the stigmata.

His Wounds. His Will. His Love.

This is definitely the kind of love worthy of my full attention; the kind of love worthy of remembrence in the form of a crucifix on my wall. As we prepare for Pentecost, may we never forget the infinite love which gives us the Holy Spirit that dwells within us.

A Man On Crutches

The seminarian stepped out of the chapel after his morning prayers one Sunday morning and observed a man on crutches by the holy water font. He watched as the man dipped his hand in and sprinkle first his left leg, then his right. Looking up to heaven, the man threw his crutches off beside him.

The seminarian ran as fast as he could to the rectory and told the pastor all that he had seen.

"Mary, Mother of God! You've just witnessed a miracle!" exclaimed the pastor. "Where is the man right now?"

"Next to the holy water font laying flat on his face."

(St. Philip Neri, that one's for you.)

"If God be with us,

there is no one else left to fear."

Memorial

I am the daughter of a Vietnam War hero. While in combat, my dad suffered a bullet wound in the left arm, tearing off the majority of his bicep. Thank God, because just a few inches to his right, the bullet would have punctured his heart and I would not be here. They were going to amputate, but through my dad's courage and determination, he still has his arm. I might be biased, but my dad's story of survival and recovery is the stuff of which movies are made.

I'm also the wife of a Gulf War veteran. While inspecting his equipment at Camp Lejeune, he found tucked into his helmet a note from his son Carl, telling him how much he loved him, and how proud he was of him. Imagine it: a room full of Marines brought to tears by the love of one man's son. Ed has told me on several occasions that finding that note was one of the most profound moments of his life.

My great-uncle Ronnie, who's nearing his 90's, was a WWII gunner. My nephew is an Iraqi War veteran. He served two tours. My step-brother, a US Army Major, is nearing retirement, having served his country for 20-plus years, including leading troops in Iraq. Today the sons, daughters, nieces, nephews of many of us are still abroad, serving their nation in a time of war.

Today we don't just remember those who have died on the battlefields. We also celebrate those who have survived them, and we honor those who still serve, by sharing in a day of peace with families and friends. Fly your flags today for them.

Prayer for Those who Await a Soldier's Return
(from the United States Council of Catholic Bishops)

God of all goodness,
Look with love on those who wait
for the safe return of their loved ones
who serve in the armed forces of their country.
In faith and hope,
we turn to you for comfort.
Grant that we may trust in your mercy
and send an angel to sustain us
as we await their safe return.
We ask this through Christ our Lord.

AMEN.

It's All In The Details

"I'd like to use the Kyrie for the Sunday Mass," Father Ed said during our Cursillo Liturgy planning session yesterday. I flipped my index open as if on command, scanning the list for some contemporary arrangements and only half-listening to his question. "What do you think, Gina, should we go with the Greek Kyrie or the Latin?"

I replied with my nose buried in my list, "Oh, there are so many arrangements, I think we should make it easy on everyone and just go with the Latin."

This is what I get for paying attention to the wrong details. That's right, the word Kyrie is Greek. There is no "Latin Kyrie". I totally fell for it. What makes this sadder is that I am the 1998 Evangelos Meshel Award winner for Ancient Greek Language Studies. How pathetic is it that I didn't catch Fr. Ed's joke? Father let me yammer on about musical arrangements, composers and other unnecessary details for a few minutes until he finally let me off the hook. Gotta love a priest with a twinkle in his eye and joy in his heart. "Of course you knew it," he explained. "You merely forgot." You can bet I'll never forget that detail again.

Father's little joke was still on my mind later that afternoon at the wedding I cantored. Most of the time when cantoring a wedding, I'm not paying much attention to much other than my music, but this time I watched the bride & groom, attendants and guests. They were nice, but were pretty lukewarm. The matron of honor was carrying on conversations with the bridal party during mass. As they exchanged vows, the bride & groom fidgeted mindlessly. Few responded. Few participated. Suddenly my little light bulb perched above my head went on.

I think Father's little joke snapped me out of something. I began to think about Mass, and how when I'm not cantoring, I find myself fidgeting in my seat, flipping through the missalette or hymnal, mentally critiquing the musicians, reading ahead any upcoming Masses I'm going to be planning, anything but being present. I realized that most often, I really need to work hard at paying attention. Apparently I've fallen victim to my own self-image as a liturgist. That morning with Fr. Ed, I was so worried about looking like I knew what I was doing. No wonder I forgot something as fundamental as "Kyrie" being Greek.

It's like I tell my guitar students: bad habits creep back when you're not practicing. Yet every one of my students will forgo practicing their scales to spend an hour picking out our cool new strap. We buy metronomes, tuners, 75 picks, fancy guitar stands, all because that's what guitarists have. But our playing suffers. We forget our form. We shave more practice time off our weekly routine. Little by little we lower our standards until suddenly we're forgetting what should be elementary. Most of the time we find ourselves back in those bad habits long before we realize it. Practicing with vigilance is a must.

It's the same with our Christian walk. Christianity is counter-cultural in its idealism. Living in a world offering self-image as its ideal, however, many of us find ourselves fixating on what others see when they look at us, ranging from our physical appearance to our status in our communities or environments. We do things to placate our fixations, even if it means spending money we don't have, using our friends and loved ones, telling a little white lie here and there to protect ourselves and to get the reaction we want, or a whole host of other bad habits, all to achieve an opposing ideal. We tell ourselves that we're on the right track, because we outwardly look Christian; but our total lack of progress in our Christian walk indicates otherwise. We know in our hearts that to achieve our self-serving goals, we've completely ignored the wrong details.

Looking like a good Christian really means nothing if we're not walking the talk. Eliminating those bad habits promoting self-image requires vigilance. We have to actively change our mindset away from the impressions others may have of us toward what is truly right. For me it means more than just planning suitable music and performing it well. It means being present in my heart, whether I'm cantoring or not, and being mindful of every detail as if my relationship with the Lord depended on it. (Not to mention my reputation as the 1998 Evangelos Meshel award winner.)

What You've Been Given

Anyone who teaches knows my very special guitar student. She isn't the star by any means. She wants to be, though, even with all her limitations: she was born with developmental impediments, and has many issues because of this factor. Plus she has a job, so there are time constraints and destractions galore. Not to mention she can be a little willful and doesn't always practice what I tell her to practice.

Even so, she is musically inclined. She can read music to sing, and can carry a tune. She picked up rhythm surprisingly fast, and when she nails a song, she can follow and accompany without drowning out the singer or musician. Plus her desire to learn is downright inspiring, and most of the time she does the best she can with what God gave her. Overall, I wish every one of my students had the kind heart that she has. She's really shown incredible improvement, and works hard to defy anyone and everyone who doubts her. And let me tell you, many people doubt her.

Yes, I'm very proud of her.

(A) man who was going on a journey called in his servants and entrusted his possessions to them. To one he gave five talents; to another, two; to a third, one--to each according to his ability. Then he went away. Immediately the one who received five talents went and traded with them, and made another five. Likewise, the one who received two made another two.

But the man who received one went off and dug a hole in the ground and buried his master's money. After a long time the master of those servants came back and ettled accounts with them. The one who had received five talents came forward bringing the additional five. He said, 'Master, you gave me five talents. See, I have made five more.' His master said to him, 'Well done, my good and faithful servant. Since you were faithful in small matters, I will give you great responsibilities. Come, share your master's joy.'

(Then) the one who had received two talents also came forward and said, 'Master, you gave me two talents. See, I have made two more.' His master said to him, 'Well done, my good and faithful servant. Since you were faithful in small matters, I will give you great responsibilities. Come, share your master's joy.'

Then the one who had received the one talent came forward and said, 'Master, I knew you were a demanding person, harvesting where you did not plant and gathering where you did not scatter; so out of fear I went off and buried your talent in the ground. Here it is back.' His master said to him in reply, 'You wicked, lazy servant! So you knew that I harvest where I did not plant and gather where I did not scatter? Should you not then have put my money in the bank so that I could have got it back with interest on my return? Now then! Take the talent from him and give it to the one with ten.

For to everyone who has, more will be given and he will grow rich; but from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away. Matthew 25:14-29

When you've been given much, it's easy to overcome those obstacles of fear and self-doubt; and when those who seem to have less see those with so much more, being intimidated is inevitable. My special student was only given one talent. What kind of teacher would I be if I didn't push her to invest that talent and make the most of it? After all, everyone has something to offer.

Fishers Of Men

"Who will take the cross?" Father steps down from his chair just before the final blessing at Mass and hands over a small wooden cross to this week's willing volunteer. Attached to the cross is a prayer for an increase in vocations to the Priesthood.

The United States Council of Catholic Bishops published the names & photos of the Ordination Class of 2009 (found here), along with a few statistical factoids, such as:

The average age of ordinands for the Class of 2009 is 36.

On average, the responding ordinands report that they were about 17 when they first considered a vocation to the priesthood.

Relatively few ordinands say that TV, radio, billboards, or other vocational advertising were instrumental in their discernment.

(Source: The Class of 2009: Survey of Ordinands to the Priesthood)

It's a tough decision. I know a few young men who are right now discerning a call to the priesthood. They have been for several years now. They all have the same concerns: What if they get through everything and take their vows, and they realize that they don't want to be a priest anymore? What if they meet a woman and fall in love? What if they WANT to meet a woman and fall in love? What about being a father? What about their families? And these are just a few of the many issues facing young men in their discernment process.

One need only turn on the television for about ten minutes to see that contemporary American society is not inclined toward Christ. It's not just the TV lineup, either; the workplace, the voting booth, the internet, right down to where we shop, all put out there more and more attractive choices that would compromise my Church and my faith. When the world no longer believes, becoming a catalyst for faith can be seen as almost futile.

No wonder it can take a decade or more to discern a vocation.

This is why I applaud advertising for vocations. Whether I'm buying laundry detergent or wardrobe staples, I rarely admit that advertising of any kind significantly affects my decisions. I suspect that the overwhelming majority of us would say the same. I know better, though, because I know that good advertising doesn't work directly. It gets under the surface and attempts to shape the underlying desires of our hearts. So despite the above statistic regarding vocational advertising, I believe it's a practice that needs to continue, if not stepped up a bit.

The following short film in two parts is an excellent piece promoting vocations to the priesthood. As you watch them, pray for anyone who might be discerning a vocation. And while you're at it, ask them to watch this film.

“As he passed by the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting their nets into the sea; they were fishermen. Jesus said to them, "Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.”
Mark 1:16-17

In The Details

I bought my tiny icon of Our Lady Of Vladimir about 12 years ago when I worked at Alba House Communications, and she’s been with me through everything. Some days I just walk by her with a glance, other days I stare intently at every detail of her face, soaking in everything that the image has to teach me.

Icons are much more than devotional paintings. An ancient form of writing, as an iconographer would most likely say (icons are referred to as having been “written” in the Orthodox church), the icon is the oldest form of worship aid, carrying within its brushstrokes the Tradition of faith, dating back to St. Luke, credited with the image of “Our Lady of Tenderness”, the foundation image of my Lady of Vladimir.

Every detail of the icon means something.

The gold trim adorning her dark, earthy mantle is a sign of her status, yet it is mere trim, whereas Christ is completely adorned in a robe of gold. She shares in eternal life, but not in divinity. On her head and shoulders are stars. These indicate the Trinity. Christ himself is the star of her right shoulder.

Look at how He is depicted here: not an infant, but a full-grown man with the face of a child. His gaze is fixed on her, his arms wrapped around her in a tight, loving embrace. Is he breathing life into her? She leans her head toward Him to receive, while her gaze is fixed on me, her eyes sad yet peaceful. She doesn’t smile, but there is joy in her face. She supports Christ with one hand, and with her other she welcomes me into the embrace, into the mystery.

Our Lady of Tenderness is truly a symbol of the Church. Doesn't Christ want to embrace each of us as well, and breathe into us the breath of life? I want to be like her, standing with arms open, ready to welcome anyone who seeks Him.

To read more about the history of icons and their use in worship, read Praying With Icons by Jim Forest.

O Sacrament Most Holy

O Sacrament Divine

all praise and all thanksgiving

be every moment thine.