Recently in Reflections Category

I'm drafting this message in flight on American 384, non-stop service from DFW to JFK, on my way for my Papal weekend. This morning was the public Mass at National's Stadium in Washington, DC, yesterday included a ceremony at the White House (complete with the Battle Hymn of the Republic and Happy Birthday for the pontiff's 81st birthday) and a celebration of Vespers (Evening Prayer) with all of the bishops of the United States (last I heard, not one sent their regrents).

Last night, I was interviewed by KEYE CBS 42 for a set of pieces they're putting together about the Papal visit; the first one with me was aired last night at 10 pm. I've seen myself in HD—somewhat scary, but I digress. In that interview, I mentioned that one of the aspects of Pope Benedict that makes him unique is his status as Pope of the Internet.

Pope John Paul II, of happy memory, was considered the Pope of TV. Anyone who saw any images—stills or video—were inspired by him. Whether it was the picture of him standing in front of a teepee in Native American-styled vestments or with sunglasses on or holding his cane upside down acting like it was a hockey stick, you felt a connection to him. He wrote many profound things, and by all means, they should be read and examined. His Theology of the Body and texts examining the role of Mary were groundbreaking in many ways, but he is remembered by the way he captured people.

Pope Benedict XVI is different. He's cute and hearing him with his German accent is great, but he is much more reserved than John Paul II. I can't imagine Pope Benedict ever using his cane as a hockey stick, for example. His gifts, however, lie with the written word. You may hear, or not, the Pope speak, but you want to go online and download the text. His gift isn't in the presentation of Truth, but in his explanation of the Truth. By training, he is a teacher, serving as a professor in Germany before being called up to the Major Leagues (in reverent terms, the fullness of priesthood as a bishop and then to Rome to serve in the Curia) and his natural gift for teaching is obvious.

He teaches when he speaks—from his weekly General Audiences to his Apostolic Exhortation on the Eucharist to the Moto Proprio allowing for the more widespread use of the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite to, of course, his encyclicals, God is Love and Saved by Hope. Now three years after he was called to the Chair of Peter, Pope Benedict still has more people attend his General Audiences than our rock star John Paul II did. Why? Because they learn from this teacher. This is not to say anything negative about John Paul II, not at all, but only that the timid, quiet German who many consider quite dry has a mystical attraction that people are drawn toward through his catechesis.

The Internet is Pope Benedict XVI's biggest aid in his efforts. In the days after any text of his is released, people from around the world are reading it, discussing it, sharing it, wrestling with it and ultimately, finding a greater understanding of the Catholic faith.

I haven't had the chance to read the full-text yet, but apparently, what he had to say to the United States' bishops last night is worth the read.

The greatest good is God: Boethius learned and now teaches us not to succumb to fatalism, which extinguishes hope. He teaches us that fate does [not] govern our lives -- Providence does and Providence has a face. You can speak to Providence because Providence is God.

1500 years after they lived and died, these two witnesses are still guiding us to Christ.

[I think I found a typo in the translation. The English translation from the Vatican does not include the "not" above; I don't believe it makes sense without it.]

At 7:15 am, I will be running 15km as part of the marathon training program that I'm in. In February, I will be running in the AT&T Austin Marathon and since I've had never ran more than three miles in my life, I started training.

As I type, the last thing I want to do is wake up and be running at 7:15 am. I'm going to do it, because I know that if I don't, I am only hurting myself in light of my long term goal—running a marathon. Prayer, in many cases, is the same way. When I wake in the morning, many days I simply do not want to take the time to pray. During the day, I often avoid daily Mass because I just don't want to. At night, I think about Evening or Night Prayer but more often than not it seems, I opt to go to sleep instead.

Aren't we just hurting ourselves, in light of our long term goal of eternal salvation, when we fail to pray? Whether it be in times of good health and happiness or when we're sure that everyone and everything is out to get us, shouldn't we pray? Prayer is training for the marathon of heaven. How can we be prepared to be in the total presence of God if we can't spend a few moments alone with Him?

And so, we should pray. Liturgy of the Hours, the Rosary, a simple Our Father, silence, free-flowing thoughts. Whatever the form, whatever the time, the important part is to actually do it.

Today, it has been ten years since my dad passed away. Perhaps because I've been so incredibly busy during the past few weeks, I haven't really thought about it much. While in school, I would have too much time to think about it and would end up taking an academic dive this time of year.

I suppose one benefit of working more hours than you can count is you know that you still have to deliver your deliverables. In academics, you're only hurting yourself if you don't do something. In the real world, a lot of other people depend on your work to do their work—it is easier to keep focus.

In other news, my mom is having some medical work today. Your prayers are appreciated.

This is the second in a multi-part series sharing some aspects of a retreat I made last weekend.

I am a child of the information age. I can hardly remember a time without having a computer at home. I've had a website since 1996 (wow, eleven years!) and now, working primarily with university students, I'm used to conducting most of my affairs via the Internet. Not only that, but with the instant back-and-forth, I'm used to conducting most of my affairs quickly via the Internet.

Montserrat doesn't quite work like that.

Since Camp Bapchule was canceled out from under us and suddenly I had this week free, I selected this past weekend for the retreat. There is no way to register for a retreat via their website and so I sent them an e-mail. Days passed. I thought, I should call. I did. Their voicemail system does not make it easy to figure out who you need.

"For a priest, press 1. For a staff member, press 2." Figuring the priests were not in charge of reservations, I pressed 2. "For Greg, press 1. For Luz, press 2. For so-and-son, press 3." I have no idea who to talk to (Greg would work, for future reference). I press 0 attempting to go to a receptionist.

"The operator is not available. You will be disconnected. Goodbye."

Well, okay. I wait and an e-mail finally arrives. After a couple of exchanges, which did go faster than the initial inquiry, I was in business and registered. A confirmation letter was in the mail.

The confirmation letter never arrived, but I figure I wouldn't let that stop me. I drove up to Dallas on Friday after a half-day of work. Upon my arrival, four hours later, it is obvious that somehow my reservation never quite made it in the system. Luckily, they had an extra room, but talk about a close encounter (I suggest sending something via snail mail or perhaps fax. That might be more reliable).

So far, that was my only expectation and it was met. From my uber-efficient technological background, I had the feeling something was amiss with my registration. Beyond that, I had never read about silent retreats or what they are like. I had no idea what to expect.

The retreat center is on lakefront property facing a small inlet of Lake Lewisville, just north of Dallas in a small suburb known as "Lake Dallas". Off of a two-lane road and probably half a mile from the turn, you'll see Montserrat. A 12-foot tall statue of the Sacred Heart greets visitors with their new Jesuit Spirituality Center under construction behind it. To your right, you'll see the oldest remaining structure, St. Joseph Hall. St. Joseph Hall, containing some office space and a majority of retreatant rooms, forms the close side of a quadrangle that includes Advent Hall (another dorm building), St. Ignatius Chapel, Assumption Hall (library, offices and Jesuit living quarters) and the dining hall. Beyond the quadrangle is a wide open area all the way until the lake. White chairs dot the property along with little swings, a dock and some tall birdhouses.

After we settled in, we met at an optional session led by Fr. Joe, the director of the center, introducing us to the idea of a silent retreat. This particular retreat was led by Rev. Mr. Jose Fetzer, S.J.—the "Rev. Mr." is a fancy way of saying he is a transitional deacon that will be ordained a priest sometime in the near future.

While the "standard" form of a silent retreat includes one-on-one spiritual conferences, due to numbers, this retreat includes all of the retreatants gathering together multiple times a day, in silence, to listen to a conference given by Deacon Jose. These conferences were much like an extended homily on a particular subject, complete with notes. The conferences were offered as a "buffet"—a number of choices laid out before us. Individually, we can take what we will from the buffet and use it in our reflections.

The part of a silent retreat that concerned me the most would be the silence. Honestly, when was the last time did I shut off my phone for the entire weekend, much less not speak all weekend? I truly don't know if this has happened before in my life!

Lucky for me, so I thought, the retreat only would last just under 48 hours.

Over the next few days, I hope to share some aspects of a retreat I made last weekend. This first part looks at my decision to attend the retreat.

For some time now, I've been thinking to myself, "Self—you need to go on a retreat. You need to do something for your spiritual life." This was true.

While yes, I work at a church 40+ hours a week and I have the Blessed Sacrament mere feet from my workspace, this does not automatically equal a perfect spiritual life. While volunteering at a church may (and should) be a spiritually-rewarding activity, working for a church, at times, becomes work in the stereotypical way. "Man, I have to get up and go to work. I just want to go back to bed." or "Ugh, it is 3 pm. Why can't the day just end?!" That's no way to think about church! However, when you're always at church, it comes with the territory.

Over the two years I've worked at the University Catholic Center, I've transitioned myself from being a student-staff member to now, just a staff member. In other words, I used to "work" some events and participate, as a student, in others. I let Catholic campus ministry do its job on me as it should a student. Over the past six months, while this transition was at the forefront of my mind, I began to participate less and work more.

It is completely expected and normal. I was in my fifth year of studies as an undergraduate at The University and I was already working full-time, whether or not that is how my position was "advertised". As young freshmen walk in the door, I was constantly reminded that I'm that "old guy" that everyone knows as being around forever. As a staff member, however, the dynamic is different. I'm able to engage in ministry in new and profound ways as I'm able to relate to the students on a quasi-peer level while also being able to challenge them in ways that a peer usually can't do. While a student, it was important to be friends with everyone. As a staff member, I'm still friends with everyone, but that isn't the chief concern and a status that comes after working with them, ministering with them and helping them realize their potential as leaders and ministers in the Church.

Long story short, I stopped actively seeking the fulfillment of my spiritual needs. Over the last few months, I've toyed with the idea of going on various retreats, participating in various programs geared toward my location on this spiritual journey and the overall need to engage my own quest for God.

Through all of the options (and there are many!), I discerned to attend a silent retreat, in the Ignatian model of the Spiritual Exercises, at the Montserrat Jesuit Retreat House located north of Dallas on Lake Lewisville. In fairness to all of the other options, I had visited Montserrat last month when I went with Vanessa to a speaking engagement she had hosted at the retreat center and we learned of an open couples-friendly retreat. So far, most of the retreat I had researched were single-sex, so an option that allowed us both to go was appealing.

As fate had it, Vanessa's cousin (and now her Goddaughter) was going to be baptized the same weekend so she flew out to join her family and I made the drive to Dallas.

I think some of the questions were unfair or misleading, but I can't argue with the results! ;-)

You scored as Roman Catholic, You are Roman Catholic. Church tradition and ecclesial authority are hugely important, and the most important part of worship for you is mass. As the Mother of God, Mary is important in your theology, and as the communion of saints includes the living and the dead, you can also ask the saints to intercede for you. Roman Catholic 100% Neo orthodox 79% Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan 68% Emergent/Postmodern 64% Classical Liberal 46% Charismatic/Pentecostal 29% Modern Liberal 29% Reformed Evangelical 21% Fundamentalist 7% What's your theological worldview? created with QuizFarm.com

In today's Washington Post, there is an interesting article about the sociological impact of marriage. Contrary to modern thought, marriage tends to isolate a couple from the community leaving the couple less likely to be involved with community affairs. The article by Shankar Vedantam refers to a study by sociologists Naomi Gerstel and Natalia Sarkisian.

According to the article, the honeymoon is a recent invention- only in existence since 19th century. Married people are less likely than single or divorced people to live with, visit, call or write to reletives. Hetrosexual men, apparently, are the worst offenders, relying on their wives to maintain contact with his own family. Personally, my aunts control social community of the dad's side of my family, so my experience corresponds with the study.