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.  

______________________________________________

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.
____________________________________

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

Laetare Sunday

Got back from retreat last night.  Went to the College of the Holy Cross to stay in the Jesuit community.  It was a good retreat enhanced very much by the setting.  Prior to this I only spent a total of 6 days at Holy Cross in 16 years, three of which were the triduum before first vows.  Our timing was good in that it was spring break meaning that campus and the community were both very quiet.

Holy Cross has interesting geography.  Beautiful campus built into the side of a steep bluff overlooking Worcester.  Holy Cross students don't have to go to the gym to stay in shape.  All they have to do is go to class.  I've never seen so many sets of stairs built into hillsides.  This is one steep campus.

The retreat ended on a high note.  What was supposed to be a few inches of snow turned into 28+!  Weston got 20 and Boston a bit over a foot.   By Friday night the skies were clearing and then Saturday was glorious.  Because I could not find my tripod prior to leaving Boston there are few pix inside the chapel (found it upon returning home).  All in all a good retreat.

Celebrated Mass this morning for the first time during the sede vacante.  Definitely required concentration to skip the line about the pope during the Eucharistic Prayer.  Probably won't be much easier inserting a new name in a few days hence (one hopes).

Homily followed by photos from retreat.

4^th Sunday of Lent (Laetare Sunday)

Jos 5:9a, 10-12

Ps 34:2-7

2 Cor 5:17-21

Lk 15:1-2, 11-32

Laetare Jerusalem . . . .

“Rejoice Jerusalem, and all who love her.

Be joyful all who were in mourning

exult and be satisfied at her consoling breast.”

Lent has passed the mid-point. The penitential sense of the season recedes just a bit.  It is a chance to catch our breath, a chance to look back upon our observance of Lent thus far and to prepare for the commemoration of  Jesus’ passion, death, and resurrection.  All three of today’s readings juxtapose rejoicing and forgiveness, particularly the first reading and the familiar Gospel parable of the Prodigal Son.

The Israelites had reason to rejoice.   Having ended thirty days of mourning after Moses’ death, Joshua led them into the Promised Land, toward which they had been moving for forty years.  “Today I have removed the reproach of Egypt from you.”  Their punishment at an end they ate a Passover meal from the produce of the land they had been given.  They no longer needed the manna with which God had fed them on their journey.  It never appeared again.  They were home. 

The parable of the prodigal son is more than simply familiar.  Along with the Good Samaritan, the prodigal son has transcended its roots in Luke’s Gospel to become a figure of speech that is used and understood by Christians, non-Christians, and even those atheists who are hostile to all things smacking of faith. 

The prodigal son is a challenging parable.  It can be read and analyzed on many levels.  It is rich with characterization, motives, actions and reactions.  Psychiatrists can have a field day treating this gospel as a case study evaluating the personalities  and behaviors of the various actors in the drama. 

We may see ourselves if we meditate on the story.  Perhaps we want the immediate gratification of the younger son. Maybe we identify with the fury and resentment of the dutiful elder son who perceived that he never had any fun. 

We may even see some identification with the local citizen who said, “Sure kid, slop the hogs.  But don’t eat any of the slop.”  We probably all can identify with the prodigal’s regret at having followed a wrong path, at having chosen stupidly.   The hookers and hangers-on were there when the money flowed.  But they were gone when the cash dried up. 

The greatest importance of the the parable of the prodigal son, however, is not as a social or psychiatric case study.  This very familiar parable  reveals the depth of God’s love and mercy for us.  It reveals God’s forgiveness once we have confessed that we are sinners in need of that forgiveness.

The father loved the son enough to let him go out on his own, well financed and provisioned.  The rest was up to the boy.  The son rejoiced in his new freedom, not unlike a kid moving away from home for the first time.  Finally he could  carouse, party,  make noise, and sleep around.  And he did.  The money was gone fast.  Only when he hit rock-bottom did he yearn for his father’s love.  Only when broken and wretched did he want to return to the safety of home.  Having squandered all he had been given, he swallowed his pride, admitted his wretched state to himself and journeyed back, prepared to be treated not like a son, not like an heir, but as one of the hired help.  But at least he would be able to eat. 

The prodigal did not know how desperate his father was for him to return. He had no idea how his father would rejoice when he began his journey home.  The son had been lost and now was found.  Like the Israelites, he was home.

As is often the case in Jesus’ parables, the story does not have a definite ending. There is no resolution or happily ever after.  This parable, like many others, is like seeing only two acts of a three-act play, or finding that the last chapter of an Agatha Christie who-dunnit has been ripped from the book.   We don’t know how the prodigal son acted once he returned and was back into the routine.  We don’t know if his angry older brother reconciled with him.  All we know is that his father forgave him.  And welcomed him back.

God endowed us with free will and allowed us to go out on our own, well-financed and provisioned.  Like the prodigal son we mess up to the point of desperation and despair.  But like the father in this parable God forgives us and welcomes us back again and again, more effusively than anything the prodigal’s father could have done, once we admit our need for His love, confess our sins, and amend our lives.  Thus, Paul can confirm, “God has reconciled us to himself through Christ and given us the ministry of reconciliation, namely, God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ.”

Laetare Jerusalem. . .

gaudete cum laetitia,

qui in tristitia fuistis

Rejoice Jerusalem . . .

Be joyful

All who were in mourning

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The stained glass in the Jesuit Community Chapel is beautiful.  The colors are very saturated, more so than the camera (or some toying with Aperture 3 can make them).  When the sun is coming through the windows  the chapel is flooded with warm color.  The first photo is a close up of the window behind the altar while the second is a wide-angle of the chapel. 

My first foray onto campus was before the blizzard on the only sunny day before  week of unrelenting clouds. 

 The statue of St. Ignatius in a niche in front of the chapel.  The eyes are amazing. 

I wish I'd had the tripod.  Could have taken photos inside chapel at a much lower ISO.   The organ at Holy Cross is world class.  It is frequently heard on radio broadcasts of organ recitals.  This is not a small chapel. 

The chapel at dusk on Friday night after the snow and wind stopped.  The lights of Worcester are in the distance.  

Finally Saturday morning after the blizzard.  Lots of snow.  The temps went into the mid-40's.  By the time Ignatius and I left to return to Campion (via dinner in Cambridge) the Mass Pike was dry. 

+Fr. Jack, SJ, MD