Thoughts on the Past Months

Health

It finally happened.  The cold, as in the upper respiratory kind, hit on Thursday night and persists.  Fortunately, this past weekend was the only one that I more or less had time for a cold.  I got through giving a day of recollection and Mass to a group from St. Julia’s on Friday, but by the end of two talks and Mass my throat felt as if I’d slid into second on it.  After running one necessary errand on Saturday morning the rest of the weekend was spent mostly in bed.  Things are lightening up now.  Should be fine by the coming weekend.

Ignatius

Ignatius’ time here on sabbatical was a great blessing but it is coming to an end in a few days.  He helped with some of the physical work that required the kind of heavy lifting I can no longer do easily.  We spent a lot of time talking about our vocations, pastoral care, and everything else that friends of long duration discuss.  We fit my favorite definitions of friendship:  A friend is someone with whom you can sit in silence for four hours and no one feels the need to speak.  And we laughed a lot, sometimes at extremely juvenile humor that is best left shared between us.  He leaves on Sunday to amble back toward Taipei.  We will go out to dinner on Thursday evening (the cold must be gone by then). I will miss him very much.  But, am very grateful for the time we were able to spend here.  I’m tempted to ask his provincial to assign him back here.  There is enough to do.  And the Chinese Catholic Community would be thrilled beyond description.  He is a role model for being pastoral with others. 

The bombing

Can’t ignore it.  It was a bizarre experience.  Ignatius and I were in the Art Institute of Chicago when it happened.  I was giving a talk the following day at the University of Illinois at Chicago and, to save money and have some fun, we flew out on Friday and drove to Marquette in Milwaukee to visit a Chinese SJ who is completing a degree there, and then went to Chicago on Sunday.  Shortly after the bombing my cell phone began going nuts with texts and e-mails asking if we were OK.  I sent a sarcastic text to my sister (sorry) who then asked if we heard about Boston.  Wow.  We got back Wednesday afternoon. 

Friday morning my cell beeped the text message signal at 6:30 AM.  BC was on lockdown and all classes were cancelled.  Weston borders Waltham, one of the towns that was locked down (Waltham borders Watertown where the boat was).  The surviving bomber was in a boat about a mile from our Provincial offices.  Obviously everyone worked from home that day.  It was surreal in that there was no traffic, none, on Concord Road, a two-lane country road in front of the house that resembles Le Mans in the morning rush hour.  It isn’t even that quiet on Sundays because of the bicyclers.  Very eerie.

The reactions to the post-bombing are ranging from occasionally maudlin to manifestations of the kind of grief characteristic of a national tragedy to frightening.  I’m perplexed by the burial stuff.  My respect for the woman who arranged the burial would have been greater if she remained anonymous rather than using it as a way of trumpeting her Christianity.  There is something more Pharisee than Publican in it.  Several times over the years I’ve quoted St. Francis of Assisi who said, “Preach the gospel at all times. Use words only when absolutely necessary.” 

Lost Friends and the Internet

I was an exchange student in Belo Horizonte, Brasil from July 1967 to July 1968.  It was the most life-changing and path-determining experience of my life.  I made a number of friends shortly after arriving.  One in particular, Aldo Fernandes, Jr., was very helpful in learning Portuguese, learning to give serenades AND he introduced me to the caipirinha andBrahma Chopp (I was 18, the legal age in Brasil).  I taught him and some of the other guys “There’s Kind of Hush” by Herman’s Hermits and “Yesterday” by no-need-to-name-‘em in English and they taught me many songs in Portuguese, particularly those of Chico Buarque de Holanda.  A few years after I went to Penn State we lost touch.  I’d tried some internet searches over the past few years but didn’t get anywhere, in part because I was having trouble with the last name that I'd conflated with another friend's.

The day we returned from the wedding in D.C. the administrative assistant in the retreat center asked me three times in about two hours if I’d checked my e-mail.  No I hadn’t.  Finally in frustration she ordered me into her office (one does not say not to Ann) and opened the e-mail she had forwarded.  How it landed in her e-mail mystifies me.  But, it was from Aldo, now a journalist living in far western MG, who is never without a guitar (he was a terrific musician then and I’m delighted he hasn’t stopped).  He had found my pic on the internet and I guess an idea of where I was.  He noted he would have recognized me easily except for the white hair and the beard.  To prove the e-mail wasn’t a scam he enclosed a scan of the dollar bill I’d autographed for him in 1968!  I recognized my 18 year-old penmanship immediately.  It has changed.  Drastically.  But, it was mine to be sure.

Once my breathing returned to normal and the grin subsided I wrote a long e-mail back in English.  Later in the day he responded in Portuguese, which I can still read and speak but would not try writing.  We are going to set up a Skype call soon. 

I’ve told one particular story about Aldo many times over the years.  It illustrates the hazards of international living.  About ten days after I arrived the family was sitting at Saturday night supper (jantar) when he came over and asked, in tortured English, if I wanted to go to a movie.  I said OK and made the “three ring sign” (thumb and index circled with the other three fingers splayed out).  He tore out of the apartment.  I could hear his strangled laughter.  Silence descended on the table.  The kind of silence that says, “uh oh.”  But I didn’t speak enough Portuguese—I spoke almost none at that point—for anyone to explain.  When I went to the hall outside the apartment to go to the movies he explained in English and graphically.  “Joao, in Brasil thees—he made the three ring sign—is thees—he either flipped the bird, gave me the finger, or . . . you all KNOW what I mean.  At that point he lost it again.  I had just flipped off the entire family. I don’t think I made the three-ring sign again for about seven years.  He really worked hard with me on my accent and grammar.  Though I’ve lost some vocabulary my accent is still dead on.  It is great that we can now reconnect. 

I’ve never been back to Brasil, in part because the memories of a perfect year would be jolted, and in part because of time.  There may be a reason to return now. 

Probably enough rambling for now.

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The trip to D.C. was a goldmine of photos.  A friend opined how some of the pix of the National Shrine would look as black and white conversions.  I've been doing a bit of that.  If all the stars line up properly over the Memorial Day weekend I will spend much of it playing with pix.

The two secular photos first.
Reflections are a tremendous source of interesting angels on a photo.  The one below shows the U.S. Capitol reflected in a window in the Library of Congress.  The blue sky was critical in making this come out so well.  This should not be converted to b&w.

The Library of Congress is an interesting building.  It is very ornate.  Some of the rooms are a bit too busy with color.  I prefer this in b&w.  It allows focus on the shapes.

The altar railing at the National Shrine fascinates.  The words, "Introibo ad altare Dei" were the first ones that demanded a response from the altar boy prior to Vatican II.  No man who was a pre-Vatican II altar boy can forget the response,
Ad Dei qui laetificat juventutam meum."

The chapel in which confessions are heard is behind a large stained glass wall.  The first time I went in there I couldn't find the door.  It is not obvious.

One of the aisles to the left of the main altar. This is difficult to photograph because of the light which shows up weirdly warm on my camera.  Much better in b&w.

There are thousands of candles aflame there.  The first is the reflection of candles near one of the columns on the lower level outside the crypt church.  The walls down there are covered with the names of individuals and groups who donated to the construction of the Shrine.

The second is a bank of candles at one of the chapels on the lower level.

+Fr. Jack, SJ, MD

Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord

Back in December we were taking our leave of others with the words, Merry Christmas, or Blessed Christmas, or the much too secular but sooooo politically correct, Have a Happy Holiday.  Forty days ago the wish to others was for a Happy and Blessed Easter.  What about the Solemnity of the Ascension?  I’ve yet to see a card for the Ascension or hear any kind of greeting.  

There is something odd about the disconnection of the episodes of what is called “the glorification event.”  The glorification event is comprised of Jesus’ birth, death, resurrection and ascension into heaven.  None of these moments in Jesus’ life happened in a vacuum unrelated to the others.  None can stand alone.

Jesus’ birth is, of course, the most problematic when it comes to standing alone.  Too many isolate Jesus’ birth from all that followed.  But, were it not for the events of Good Friday, Easter Sunday, and the Ascension, what we call “the Christmas Story” would make no sense whatsoever.  It would be nothing more than a pretty story without any meaning or relevance.  As Dag Hammarskjold wrote in a haiku that frequently serves as my meditation,

"On Christmas Eve, Good Friday

was foretold them

in a trumpet fanfare"

Similarly Jesus’ resurrection and ascension are of a piece.  Jesuit Father Stanley Marrow put it well. "We must beware of isolating discrete moments in what is one continuous event in the revelation of God.  He who is born of Mary is he who dies on the cross, is he who rises from the dead, returns to the Father who sent him, and sends his Holy Spirit on all who confess him as Lord and Son of God.” In ten days we will come to the end of the Easter Season.  Ordinary time will continue throughout the spring, summer, and most of autumn until 1 December 2013 when we celebrate the first Sunday of Advent and prepare to recall the glorification event—Jesus’ birth, death, resurrection, and ascension—yet again. 

May you all have a Happy Ascension Thursday and receive the gifts of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost with overwhelming joy.

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Busy time.  Last weekend Ignatius and I were in D.C. to concelebrate a bilingual Mandarin Chinese-English wedding for two medical students.  Ignatius forced me into the decision to fly rather than drive both ways (about 8 or 9 hours each way).  Good move on his part.  We arrived early Thursday AM and had time to spend the afternoon at the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception on the campus of Catholic University.  A few of the over 200 photos I took will appear below.  Friday was the Library of Congress and wandering around D.C.  

The wedding was terrific.  It is not the Taiwanese custom to keep the bride (who was Taiwanese-American) in "cloister" prior to entering the church.  When we arrived at Dahlgren Quad at Georgetown the entire wedding party and all the families were milling around enjoying the glorious weather.  It was refreshing.  It was no less moving to see the bride approach the altar on her father's arm.  It was nice to avoid the drama.

After the wedding banquet in Falls Church Ignatius and I went to wander around the monuments at night.  I did not have the camera with me.  The Lincoln Memorial is attractive during the day but it is spectacular at night.  We also visited the Viet Nam and WW II memorials.   On Sunday we split up, Ignatius to visit with Taiwanese friends in the D.C. area and me to celebrate Mass at the Visitation Monastery, lunch with a friend and dinner with my cousin Sue in Silver Spring.  Early flight home on Monday.  

This week I teach my last class at BC.  It was great.  Hope to do it again.  But I will admit to looking forward to the summer break.

A bunch of photos from the Shrine and three from our wanderings in D.C. on Friday. 

I didn't have the tripod and choose to shoot handheld with a high ISO (800 to 1600) in the Shrine.  I've not done much of that but will do more now that the results are good. 

The main altar as seen from the back of the Shrine.  I love the Shrine.  After my follow-up with the cardiac surgeon at the nearby Washington Hospital Center I went over there to pray in thanksgiving.  

 Organ pipes perched high above the main altar to the left. 

This mosaic is one of the newest.  It was sponsored by the Knights of Columbus.  I remember when it was unveiled some time just before I went to tertianship.  It is toward the back of the main church.  

There are banks of candles at every chapel.  It is nice that they are real and not the absurd electric ones parishes seem to be adopting.

The sacristy of the main church is huge.  I've never been in there.  The day after returning from tertianship I celebrated Mass in the Crypt Church on the lower level, where the sacristy is only slightly smaller.  Will save photos of the crypt for a later entry. 

Every one of the chapels in the Shrine is dedicated to Our Lady.  The following three are the Byzantine-Ruthenian Chapel, Our Lady of Lebanon, and Our Lady of La Vang, constructed in memory of the Vietnamese Martyrs.  

And three photos from the secular part of the trip. 

The first is George Gershwin's piano at the Library of Congress.  That is close to a first-class relic.  

Then a hallway in the Library. Not exactly understated.

This last is the back of the U.S. Capitol Building in a reflecting pond.  It was tinted, adjusted, cropped and put through its paces to get this abstract effect.  

+Fr. Jack, SJ, MD

Long Layoff

I was startled to see I posted nothing since Palm Sunday.  It has been more than a little busy.  Ignatius and I went to Plymouth for the Triduum and returned on Easter Sunday after a detour to visit one of his parishioners who is now doing a PhD at UConn in Storrs.  I thought Penn State was isolated when I was a student in the late '60's and early '70's.  Not so compared with UConn.  However, we had a very good Chinese meal just down the street from the university.  Alas, by the time we got to the I-84/Mass Pike intersection, traffic was backed up.  We took Rt. 20.  Long.

A recent trip to the Midwest to lecture at a bioethics conference took a lot of time as well.  Life is beginning to settle a bit though total settling won't come until 1 June.

I will celebrate the 10 AM Mass at Campion on Sunday 21 April, the 50th Annual World Day of Prayer for Vocations to the Priesthood and Religious Life.  For that reason the homily below makes little reference to the readings or Gospel but focuses on the mystery of religious vocation.

Then, of course, some photos from around Easter. ________________________________

Today, as we do annually on the 4th Sunday of Easter, we observe the World Day of Prayer for Vocations to the priesthood and religious life. This is the 50th year for this observance that was instituted by Pope Paul VI of happy memory.  In his letter reflecting on this observance, Holy Father Francis took the theme,  "Vocations as a Sign of Hope Founded in Faith."  He chose this theme because as he noted, "Hope. . . is a key word in biblical faith, to the extent that in certain passages, the words faith and hope seem to be interchangeable."

A sign of hope founded in faith is an accurate description of following Jesus' call "Come follow me," words Jesus said to the young man in Mark's Gospel who asked, "Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?"  When Jesus replied in part, "You lack one thing . . . go, sell what you have and give to the poor . . . and come follow me" Mark tells us that the young man was taken aback. "His countenance fell and he went away sorrowful; for he had great possessions." 

 Happily, great possessions do not always interfere with the radical yes to Jesus' seemingly impossible invitation to "Come follow me." 

By graduation, the Villanova basketball player had scored 2,408 points and made 1,171 rebounds.  After four years in the pros the salary, the "stuff" and everything that went with it, was not important.  And so, in 1991, Mary Michelle Pennefather, known as Shelley, walked through the doors of the Monastery of the Poor Clare Colletines in Alexandria, Virginia where, now known as Sr. Rose Marie, she remains within the cloister. 

Grant Desme announced his retirement in January 2010.   At the time, he was a second round draft pick of the Oakland A's and a prime prospect who received a six-figure signing bonus.  His call up to the majors was inevitable.  His call to religious life was, to some, incredible.  Now known as Frater Matthew, Grant entered the Norbertine Community in California where he is now in philosophy.  When the story appeared on the ESPN website, comments appeared quickly.   Some were supportive but many, too many, were hostile and/or obscene.  It seems that ESPN doesn't monitor its board too closely.

After four games with the New England Revolution pro soccer team in 2008, Chase Helgenbrinck, a former U.S. National team player who also played pro soccer in Chile for four years, retired.  He entered Mt. St. Mary's Seminary, in Emmitsburg, MD as a seminarian for the diocese of Peoria, IL.  He describes the reaction to the intersection of sports and religion as "polarizing."  He apparently is a master of understatement.

The final vocation story is the oldest.  In 1963 Dolores Hart, who had made 10 movies in five years, including one in which she gave Elvis Presley his first screen kiss, got out of a car in Bethlehem, CT.  The studio that had arranged the driver was not aware that when she walked through the door of Regina Laudis Benedictine Abbey she would not emerge for decades. Today, Mother Dolores is prioress of the monastery. If you want to see her at her stunningly beautiful best, see the cult classic, "Where the Boys Are."

The most notable things about each of these vocations is not that each of them gave up a lot of money and fame; that each of them abandoned what is considered the good life, but that each has admitted in interviews, or interviews by family members, that it wasn't always easy.

Each of them struggled--and will continue to struggle--with doubt and uncertainties.  A religious vocation is NOT easy. It doesn't answer all questions or remove all doubts.  It is not a life free from stress or a life overflowing with mystical consolations.  The first several years of settling into one's vocation, the time of figuring it out, are very difficult.  Many don't figure it out and leave.  But, the faith and hope that caused one to say yes, I will follow you, the faith and hope that compelled one to "go, sell what you have and give to the poor . . . and come follow me" deepens one's life in all its dimensions. Ultimately it frees one to live. 

Indeed, freedom from the distractions of money and fame is another common denominator in the vocation stories of Shelley Pennefather, Dolores Hart, Grant Desme, and Chase Helgenbrinck.   

A religious vocation does not take root in a vacuum.  Others are necessary.  Others are necessary to pray for vocations.  Others are necessary to foster vocations in many different ways. Parents or grandparents are needed to encourage vocations early on. The lived example of mature religious is crucial.  That lived example is becoming harder to find, not always because of a decrease in numbers, but because too many religious are crypto-religious or religious of convenience, emerging from their chrysalis of adaptation and anonymity only when it suits them.

Most importantly a religious vocation requires that someone ask without fear of scorn or rejection.  "Have you ever thought of becoming a . . Jesuit, Sister of Mercy, Franciscan brother, priest?"  Fill in the blank as needed. 

As Holy Father Francis notes, accepting Jesus' invitation means no longer choosing our own path, but immersing our will in the will of Jesus.  That immersion is accomplished only in the hope and faith that pushes us toward the future and sustains us in the present.  Rooted in the past of their order, religious are in the present while being pushed and, ideally, pushing others, toward the future limned for us through Jesus' saving act.  And so we can sing with the psalmist,

"The Lord is good:

his kindness endures forever,

and his faithfulness,

to all generations."

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It seems that still life photos are exerting an increasing attraction.  Three were taken back home in St. Mary's Church in Plymouth, PA on Holy Saturday afternoon.  I had taken Ignatius over to check some things out.  The light was perfect.  The others are from Campion Center.  Also home. 

The first three are flowers arranged around the altar on Holy Saturday.  The white roses seem suspended in space.  The effect of the sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows on the lilies was remarkable.  It is enhanced by the black and white with strong contrast. 

A still life of the thurible and some glassware in the sacristy.  Ignatius did a lot of work to straighten out a room that needed straightening out and purging for quite a long time.  We have more to do there this coming week but it looks a lot better. 

I happened to have the camera when the sun hit the balustrade on the second floor of the rotunda.  It only lasted about ten minutes before the sun continued its journey toward evening and the rotunda went into shadow. 

And this is the rotunda taken shortly after the shot above.  I haven't yet laid on my back to shoot directly up though it is in the plans.  However, I'm not doing it in good clothes. 

The processional cross hangs in the front of the chapel.  The sun was hitting it just right. 

Finally, Ignatius of Loyola in bas relief.  I've worn a medal of the same image daily since a week after entering the novitiate. 

+Fr. Jack, SJ, MD

Palm Sunday

The Passion Narrative

  

Stabat Mater dolorosa,

iuxta crucem lacrimosa,

Dum pendebat Filius

At the cross her station keeping

stood the mournful mother weeping

Close to Jesus

to the last.

Stand with Mary at the foot of the cross. 

Gaze up at the crucified Jesus, fully divine and fully human.

Jesus:  like us in temptation and suffering, pain and fear, sorrow and loneliness.

Jesus:  who suffered and died to save us from death.

Jesus:  who suffered and died to redeem us from sin.

Jesus: like us in all things but sin.

Crucifixion was a shameful, cruel and horrifying means of death.  But the cross was, the cross is, the cross always will be, the instrument of our salvation. 

Throughout this Holy Week we are called to meditate on the passion and to remember Jesus’ great act of love.  We can only stand at the foot of the cross and gaze at the crucified Jesus saying:

Domine non sum dignus.

Lord, I am not worthy.  

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After the 10:00 AM Mass I wandered through the chapel with camera and tripod.  

The sacristies are among the most fascinating of places.  The one on the right is full, though less so after some rearranging, of the various things needed for Mass or other liturgies.  Last week Ignatius removed the wax from the candelabras, a most appreciated effort. They are now ready for Holy Thursday. 

Across the sacristy one finds some odds and ends not currently in use. 

The above photos are from the sacristy on the right.  The sacristy to the left of the altar is where the priest vests.  The red chasuble is hanging, ready for Mass this morning. 

Palms arrayed at the back of the chapel. 

The view from the right sacristy toward the back of the chapel. 

A detail of stained glass just outside the left sacristy. 

Finally, two views of the main altar. 

Have a most Blessed Easter. 

+Fr. Jack, SJ, MD

The Pope and St. Joseph

It was a WOW moment.  A week ago I was sitting at the dining table in a small community near Boston College waiting to retrieve a Jesuit back to Campion.  With two hours to kill it seemed reasonable to work on a lecture.  Opened computer and decided to check on the status of the smoke.  WHITE.  OK, I'll start to work on the lecture once the new Pope is announced.  Then came the announcement.  A JESUIT!!!!!  I went out of my seat with the kind of energy usually reserved for Penn State touchdowns in big games.   That was the end of the lecture prep.

It is still a wow.  I was thinking this morning that the Pope and I have a few things in common.  We both made the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius.  More remotely, there was a day when we realized our vocation to the Society and there was the day we walked into the novitiate, approached the altar two years later to pronounce vows and then continued with formation.

As I said, WOW.

Got asked to celebrate one of the community Masses yesterday for the Solemnity of St. Joseph about 11 hours before Mass.  A bit of a challenge to get the homily together.  As I woke at 4 AM I watched the inaugural Mass.  And quoted the Pope's homily five hours later.
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The Solemnity of St. Joseph

Mt 1:16, 18-21, 24a

Matthew’s account of the events leading up to Jesus’ birth is less detailed than Luke’s.  It is also lacking the splendid prayers we hear in Luke.  But, Matthew’s narrative is brimming with human drama and pathos.  We learn of Mary’s fear.  And we are told of Joseph’s consternation that caused him to plan a quiet divorce.  Joseph’s anxiety and concern were put to rest by the angel who appeared to him in a dream, “She will bear a son and you are to name him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” 

Not one word is attributed to Joseph anywhere in scripture.  We know that he was righteous only by his actions.  We know that he was righteous through his willingness to do what God commanded without qualm or quibble.

Mary’s yes at the Annunciation, “Let it be done unto me according to your word,” changed the history of the world.  The sound of that yes continues to reverberate throughout the universe up to the present moment.  And it will do so for eternity.

Joseph’s yes was silent. It was no less important.  It too continues to echo through the universe.  But it does so as example rather than sound.  Joseph was righteous because, like Mary, his obedience to God was immediate and unquestioning.  Later an angel would again come to him in a dream. In his obedience, in his role as protector of wife and child, Joseph would take his young family to Egypt for an extended exile that would last until Herod’s death.  The trip from Nazareth to Bethlehem was not easy.  The trip to Egypt was probably even more difficult.

The Holy Father commented on Joseph in the homily at his inauguration this morning, "How does Joseph exercise his role as protector?  Discreetly, humbly and silently, but with an unfailing presence and utter fidelity, even when he finds it hard to understand."

Joseph did what had to be done without question.  “That is why it was credited to him as righteousness.”

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Random photos.  We had more snow today but it was not possible to get out with the camera. 

The snow from a fourth floor window at Campion.

The snow contrasts with the rain soaked rose during the long retreat (two years ago now) at Sevenhill.

Feeding pelicans fish guts in Port Lincoln.  I was fascinated watching the birds catch the offering the fisherman tossed into the air for them.  They were swarming around. 

Apples at the Victoria Market in Melbourne, Australia.

Bees doing their thing at Campion Center last summer.

Frosted glass in Clare, South Australia taken on a break day during the long retreat. 

And finally, the ceiling at a temple at Sun Moon Lake in Taiwan

+Fr. Jack, SJ, MD