The Beatification

I was fortunate enough to have a seat in St. Peter's Square for the Beatification of John Paul the Great on Sunday.  It was a blessed day, but I'll share just one anecdote.

A moment that moved me in a particular way was the presentation of the relic of John Paul's blood to Pope Benedict.  The one's who brought the silver reliquary holding the vial of blood were Sister Tobiana, who tended to John Paul through his papacy, and Sister Marie Simone-Pierre, whose unexplained cure from Parkinson's has been attributed to John Paul's intercession.

But what moved me was the fact that Benedict was the one receiving it.  As I saw him take up the reliquary and reverence the blood of his predecessor, immediately the now famous image of then Cardinal Ratzinger being embraced by John Paul came to mind.

I thought of the early Church, and how the tombs and bodies of the martyrs were often visited and venerated by Christians who knew them in life.  When we today venerate the relics of those ancient saints, it is a different experience, because we are separated by hundreds of years.  In those first years after they were martyred however, the people who venerated them had known them in life, and sometimes even been close friends.  Similarly, here before me, a man who knew John Paul, and worked with him, and had a deep respect for him, venerates the blood of his friend.  What humility and joy Benedict must have felt in that moment.


It's actually kind of unique that the relic be liquid blood.  His body was not disturbed at all.  It was blood that had been drawn shortly before his death, and was simply kept at the hospital.  No one got rid of it.  (The fact that it is still liquid is not miraculous by the way - anticoagulants were added to it when it was drawn back in 2005.  This is not St. Januarius we're talking about.)

Good Friday

I had a cold all through Holy Week.  This was a problem because the monks had asked me to sing the Exsultet at the Easter Vigil.  (For those who are unfamiliar, the Exsultet is a long, joyous, and ancient chant in the presence of the Easter Candle, which symbolizes Christ himself.)  I was honored and excited at the chance opportunity, but all through the week there was a good chance that I physically would not be able to do it.

In a moment of prayer and surrender however, Good Friday evening, I came to the following conclusion:

If I must give up singing the Exsultet because of this cold, I have an opportunity for humility.  If I find tomorrow morning, however, that I do it, I have yet another opportunity for humility.

By that I mean that to let go of the honor of singing the Exsultet would take humility, even if I was forced because of a cold.  But there would also humility in being able to sing it despite the sick state I was in.  It would be something that could only be credited to God.  I know my musical talent is a gift from God, but every now and then I need a reminder.  If I were to sing his praises on the most holy of all nights, it would be by his grace alone.  I'm glad that so often he breaks down the foundations of my ego - I am generally in need of it.

[The story goes on:
On Holy Saturday morning, when I was going to have my final rehearsal, I woke up with a blocked up nose and a raspy, phlegmy throat.  I told Jeff, another deacon on retreat, that short of a miracle, I would not be able to do it.  He replied, "then ask for a miracle."  I did; and I had a lot of people praying for the same thing throughout the week.  I got my miracle, sang it well at the rehearsal, and then at the Vigil, even sang it a whole step too high (by accident) with no problems.  In fact, it was better than I have ever sung it.  Thanks be to God, for I know I did not do it by my own power.]

Random Bavaria Photo:

Overlooking Neuschwanstein Castle

Holy Week Thoughts

Now that the Easter Octave is almost over, this post and the ones to follow might seem a little late in coming.  I was on retreat over Holy Week, and then didn't have internet access for most of this week.  So, while I've wanted to share some of the fruits of that retreat, I haven't had the opportunity until now.  Don't worry though, I'm sure I'll come up with something for Easter after I post all my Holy Week thoughts.

The retreat took place at Ampleforth Abbey, in North Yorkshire, England.  It was great to be in a monastic setting as I made my retreat, especially since I began my priestly training at a Benedictine abbey (St. Joseph's in Covington, LA).  In the posts that follow, I certainly won't be including all of my retreat experience, but just some of the fruits with which God blessed me.  Also, after the retreat, I visited Bavaria with some other Mobile seminarians, so I'll throw in pictures from that trip.

Ampleforth Abbey

Updating

I'm just about two months away from priestly ordination, and I'm very excited.  It's getting hard to stay focused on the daily life here at the seminary, on my studies, on anything really.  But I wanted to give an update on the things that have been going on:

#1 - This one is huge.  A couple weeks ago,  I was graced with the opportunity to travel to the Holy Land (for the second time!) with three other Mobile seminarians, and a group from the Archdiocese led by Archbishop Rodi.  This was truly an amazing experience, and it deserves its own blog post, so I'll get to that later.

#2 - I've started playing music again.  That is to say, I've started just sitting down and playing music for no other reason than it gives me joy.  I had forgotten how refreshing and life giving it was, and I'm glad to get back into it, more regularly anyway.

#3 - Over Holy Week, I'll be making my canonical retreat before ordination, so please keep me in your prayers.  I'm traveling with some friends to Ampleforth Abbey in Yorkshire, England where we will spend the week not only celebrating the Triduum, but also preparing ourselves spiritually for ordination.  I was there two years ago. It's a wonderful location. The Abbey liturgies are beautiful, very reminiscent of my time at St. Joseph's Abbey in Louisiana.  I'm really looking forward to this retreat.

#4 - I've got my "thesis" topic. (It's really just a short 30 page paper to cap off the MDiv program.)  My area of specialization is patristics, so I'll be writing a few of the Fathers' interpretations of Gen 27 (that's when Jacob dresses up like Esau and deceives Isaac into giving him the blessing), focusing mainly on the moral problem of Jacob's deception.

#5 - Southern Night - the Gulf Coast seminarians at the NAC are starting our annual labor of love in putting together Southern Night, an invitation only event for the southerners at the seminary.  We go all out with specialty drinks, seven courses, music, etc.  It's always a lot of fun, but also a lot of work.

#6 - Clericus Cup!  The annual clerical soccer tournament is now going into it's third week.  The North American Martyrs are performing fairly well, but we need a win this Saturday to get into the quarter finals.  As always, the fans from the NAC are going all out, dressing up and shouting our heads off.  I'm more or less leading the charge as Uncle Sam.  If you don't mind dealing with the Italian, you can check out the tournament website: Clericus Cup (The "Photo Gallery" is easy enough to find; Martyrs pictures will always be found under "Girone B.")

I guess that's about it.  Things are going pretty well these days...

Merry Christmas

The following is an update post:

This was my first Christmas at home for three years, and what a blessing it was!  Though I was plagued with a cold from the moment I got off the plane, it has been a great time.

The first thing was the annual Caroling at the Bay party at my grandmother's house (my first in three years).  There were so many people there, I was amazed.  Grandmother had made wassail, of course.  I was glad of that because I had made wassail with her recipe for the past three years, but I came home to be reminded just how much better the original is.

That was over a week ago.  Since then, I was acting as the deacon at St. Mary's for daily Mass, and actually preached three daily Masses in a row (a thing unheard of at the North American College).  But that wasn't the height of my preaching duties this week:

I was on to preach the 4:30 vigil Mass, Mass at dawn, and Mass during the day for Christmas (as well as deaconing at the Cathedral for Midnight Mass).  Or so I thought...  After the 4:30 Mass, Fr. Tony pulled me aside and asked me to take his place preaching at the 6:30 vigil as well!  It was a real blessing to be able to preach that much, especially on Christmas.

Christmas morning was fun, as usual.  All of my siblings, siblings-in-law, and I do a name swap every year since there are so many of us.  I got my brother-in-law's name this year, and took it as the last opportunity to get some unique Italian gifts for him.  He got a miniature Bocca della Verità and an Italian movie poster for The NeverEnding Story.

My sister-in-law picked my name and got me some great stuff:  a coffee mug covered in Shakespearean insults and an excellent t-shirt from The Princess Bride.

We had a "small" number at Mom and Dad's for Christmas dinner, small meaning only immediate family, which was thirteen or so people (not even all of my immediate family).  I really enjoy visiting grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins, but I have to admit that a quieter Christmas without the hassle driving from place to place sure was nice.

My family threw a St. Stephen's Day party yesterday.  Dec. 26 is the Feast of St. Stephen, but not this year, since it fell on a Sunday - it was replaced with the Feast of the Holy Family.  Nevertheless, we had a party, and a bunch of family showed up.  We even had another Stephen show up:  Steve Hellman, one of the seminarians of the Archdiocese who will be ordained a deacon in the spring.

It has been a blessing to be home, and I've still got lot's to do before returning to Rome.  Merry Christmas!

Random photo:

The great beard of '06

Normandy

Earlier this month, I was part of a trio of Mobile seminarians that travelled to Normandy, France.  We saw a whole bunch of very interesting things.

Pat, Travis, and I in Normandy

Having recently visited Sicily, and being intrigued by Norman culture in general, I was looking forward to seeing more classically "Norman" sites, so we saw some old Norman ruins, as well as the Bayeux Tapestry (which chronicles the Norman conquest of England).

Arab-Norman style from Monreale, Sicily

Ruins of Abbaye de Jumièges (back)

Arab-Norman style
from Cefalù, Sicily

Ruins of Abbaye de Jumièges
(front)

I don't know how apparent it is from my pictures, but there are a lot of similarities between the Norman architecture of France and the Arab-Norman architecture of Sicily.  The most striking difference is the colors of the stone.  In Sicily, pietrarosa (pink stone) is everywhere, while in Normandy, white limestone is in abundance.  Anyway, this stuff is very interesting to me, but we saw other stuff too, which might be more interesting to less "Norman-conscious" people:

We naturally spent a lot of time touring the D-Day beaches, particularly Omaha Beach.

Overlooking Omaha Beach

Visiting the American Cemetery at age 26, I realized in a very profound way that the majority of the graves around me were the graves of men younger than I.

I always was awed by the sacrifice that they made, but only in visiting the place did I realize how young they were.  They gave not only their lives, but their years of youth, for people who lived thousands of miles away.

Another thing I couldn't help but notice is the incredible gratitude felt by the people of the region for the sacrifices of the Allied Forces.  You see it in the people themselves (who are very kind and welcoming--so much for French stereotypes), but even in the scenery.  Most of the damage has been repaired, the wreckage and "hedgehogs" cleared, the churches rebuilt, but certain sites are still maintained with great care.

Craters/ruined batteries at Point du Hoc

In addition, remnants of the Mulberry harbor off Arromanches, bomb craters at Point du Hoc, and scattered ruined German batteries all remain as silent but ominous reminders of the battle fought there.  The D-Day sites were a very powerful element of our trip.

Sunset over a German battery

On our last day we visited Lisieux, home of St. Therese.  She is a beautiful saint from the 19th century, who has so much to teach us about the nature of love: "I prefer the monotony of obscure sacrifices to all ecstasies.  To pick up a pin for love can convert a soul."

Pat, Travis, and I at the Basilica of St. Therese of Lisieux

Love is something done in the ordinary, small, and even repetitive things we do throughout the day.  As another Theresa, Blessed Teresa of Calcutta would later say, "do ordinary things with extraordinary love.

Related photo, but subject matter no less random:

Pat and I race around the inside of a crater at Point du Hoc

Halloween

I've got a couple longer posts in the works right now, but until they're finished, here are some Halloween pictures to entertain you:

Another seminarian and I decided to dress up as Mario and Luigi.  We came up with the idea back in April or May:  it was the perfect plan.  First of all, his name actually is Mario.  Second, we're both the right size to portray the sibling plumbers.  Finally, he normally wears a beard, and I already had the moustache.  So, he was just going to cut his beard into a moustache, and voila: Super Mario Bros.

But, there was a big complication - I shaved my moustache a month before Halloween, and I had [have] no intention of growing it back.  Luckily, the costumes we got came each with a fake moustache.  This just made the act even funnier when we presented our costumes for the NAC costume contest.

Mario proceeded as planned and cut his beard, but to solve my predicament, I just came on stage without facial hair - Mario was aghast, and asked, "how can we save the Princess if you don't have a moustache?" [in the appropriate Italian accent].  I slowly came to the realization that I was lacking the necessary hirsute appendage and also began to panic.  In the hysteria, I reached off stage and found the moustache, which I put on with much ceremony.

We won!

The crowd (seminarians and priests) loved it, especially since everyone around here seems to miss the moustache a great deal.  It was sort of like the farewell party they never got to have.

What to Write About...

...when there are so many things to choose from?

The past week has been full of terribly significant events:

• I showed Rome to my family after 3 years of keeping it to (mostly) myself.
• After seven years, I shaved my moustache.
• I was ordained a deacon. ... That deserves reiteration:  I received the Sacrament of Holy Orders!
• I was ordained, with my class, at St. Peter's in Rome!
• My uncle, also a deacon, vested me.
• I left tears on the floor of St. Peter's during the Litany of the Saints.  (It's not like I could wipe my eyes.)
• I preached a real homily for the first time.
• I proclaimed the Gospel (three times thus far).
• I can and have blessed things.
• I had the privilege of accompanying my grandmother to her ancestral home and visiting the church where my great-grandfather was baptized.

So, let's pick one:  Proclaiming the Gospel (interspersed with photos from the whole week)

The first time I proclaimed the Gospel was with part of my family group during the scavi tour at St. Peter's. The scavi are the excavations below the Basilica that delve down around and into the tomb of St. Peter himself.  Our tour guide, a seminarian from the great Diocese of Brooklyn, usually reads a passage from Gospel at the end of the tour, in the presence of the bones of Peter.  He was about to start when I asked him if I could do it, since I was just ordained a deacon and had not yet proclaimed the Gospel.  He said sure.

Me with Mom and Dad - prior to cutting the moustache
(obviously)

So, I began (and this was cool), "the Lord be with you."  That was the first time I had said those words and the people (my family!) responded.  Then I went on, "A reading from the Holy Gospel according to John."

The reading was from John 21.  I taught a class this summer on the Gospel of John, so I have been pondering this passage and indeed the whole structure and theology of the 4th Gospel for a few months now.

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?" He said to him, "Yes, Lord, you know that I love you." He said to him, "Feed my lambs." He then said to him a second time, "Simon, son of John, do you love me?" He said to him, "Yes, Lord, you know that I love you." He said to him, "Tend my sheep." He said to him the third time, "Simon, son of John, do you love me?" Peter was distressed that he had said to him a third time, "Do you love me?" and he said to him, "Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you." (Jesus) said to him, "Feed my sheep. Amen, amen, I say to you, when you were younger, you used to dress yourself and go where you wanted; but when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go." He said this signifying by what kind of death he would glorify God.

Litany of the Saints:

I'm 2nd from the left.

I almost couldn't finish it.  I don't know if those present understood why, but I was moved to tears for so many reasons.  I can't deny that one of the factors was realizing in the midst of reading that it was the first time that I would proclaim the Gospel of Christ, the very thing which had been handed over to me the day previous by Bishop Hebda.  The good news has been given to us for our own good and salvation, but also it is given to us precisely to share with others.  I was, in that moment, doing precisely that - handing on what had been entrusted to me.  But that wasn't what did me in...

Laying on of Hands by Bishop Hebda

Like I said, I've been pondering the 4th Gospel a lot, but ever since I visited the Holy Land two years ago, the story of Peter has spoken to me in a particular way.  This passage marks the reconciliation of Peter and Jesus after Peter's denial - a threefold denial deserves a threefold reconciliation.  And the reconciliation is not expressed in terms of satisfaction, of making up for the wrong Peter had done.  It's all in terms of love.  Since you love me Peter, then this is what you will do.  I am the Good Shepherd, but I'm trusting you to feed my sheep.  And that's just what happened.  Still, it's not what got me so emotional...

Just after receiving the Book of the Gospels:
"Receive the Gospel of Christ, whose herald
you have become.  Believe what you read,
teach what you believe, practice what you teach."

Remember, we were there at the tomb of Peter, which itself is very near the spot where he was crucified.  Here I was proclaiming the words of Jesus to Peter prophesying the events that would later take place right where we were standing.

Newly Ordained!

At the words, "but when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands," I started to crack.

When I read, "and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go," I had to stop speaking for a second and attempt (in vain) to regain my composure.  Not 24 hours prior to this, I was upstairs in the same Basilica being dressed by someone else.  I've always felt a strong connection to St. Peter, but never like it was at that moment.

Offertory Procession:
I'm third from the front.

Offertory Procession:
had to include this shot.

Finally, I read, "He said this signifying by what kind of death he would glorify God."  These words barely made it out of my mouth, and in fact, may not have been comprehensible.

Irenaeus (who was a disciple of Polycarp, who was a disciple of St. John - not irrelevant) says, "the glory of God is man alive."  This means (ha! to presume to define what this means in a couple sentences!) that when we are truly living, when we are who we were created to be, this gives glory to God.  Peter, who the night before Jesus died was yet incapable of glorifying God and in fact denied Him, later gave over his living completely to God and the Church, finally to glorify God by his holy death.  His death was a witness to and a joining in the suffering of his Lord and Brother Jesus Christ.

And there we were right where it had happened.

There I was, hoping to glorify God with my life as well, reading (rather, proclaiming) to my family the story of one who had glorified God.  I was telling the story of one who was a friend of He who was lifted up and taught us how to Glorify God.  

Love for life did not deter them from death.

Preaching for the first time
at St. Lawrence Outside the Walls

The two Deacons Vrazel at St. Lawrence:
Uncle Bill vested me the day before.

Martyrdom is not just a sacrifice of one's life for others; it's not just an instinctive falling on the grenade, however noble and good such an action is.  Martyrdom is nothing short of entering into the Glory that Jesus Christ, the Son, gives to the Father.  Peter asked to be crucified upside down because he rightly considered himself unworthy/incapable of doing what Jesus did, but I wonder if in that moment Peter realized that we (myself, my family, millions of other people, you reading this) would see what he did and see in it the Glory of God.

Everything came into sharp clarity at that moment.  The dawn from on high was shining upon us.  I was given a glance into the whole reason why anyone would care to come to Rome, would care to dig around in those humid tunnels, would build such a huge church above them - in moments of such intense clarity, I don't think I can but weep.

Ordination

I was just ordained a deacon yesterday at St. Peter's in Rome, and today preached at my Mass of Thanksgiving.  It has been an awesome week, and new posts are coming to tell all about it!

Moustache Gone

That's right.

Here's a very relevant photo taken this evening:

Profession and Oath Videos

Here are a couple youtube videos of the Profession of Faith and Oath of Fidelity.  I say my name at 1:15 and 1:07, respectively.

Profession of Faith

Oath of Fidelity

Oath

This past Saturday evening I took the first oath of my life.  Before being ordained (and also before taking up various different offices in the Church), one must publicly make a Profession of Faith and swear an Oath of Fidelity.

It was very cool and very real to stand up before the seminary community and say aloud the following words:

PROFESSION OF FAITH

I, Stephen Vrazel, with firm faith believe and profess everything that is contained in the Symbol of faith: namely:

I believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all that is seen and unseen. I believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten not made, one in Being with the Father.  Through him all things were made.  For us men and for our salvation, he came down from heaven: by the power of the Holy Spirit he became incarnate of the Virgin Mary, and became man.  For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate; he suffered death and was buried. On the third day he rose again in accordance with the Scriptures; he ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father.  He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead, and his kingdom will have no end.  I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life, who proceeds from the Father and the Son.  With the Father and the Son he is worshiped and glorified. He has spoken through the Prophets.  I believe in one holy catholic and apostolic Church.  I acknowledge one baptism for the forgiveness of sins.  I look for the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come.  Amen.

With firm faith I believe as well everything contained in God's word, written or handed down in tradition and proposed by the church--whether in solemn judgment or in the ordinary and universal Magisterium--as divinely revealed and called for faith.

I also firmly accept and hold each and every thing that is proposed by that same church definitively with regard to teaching concerning faith or morals.

What is more, I adhere with religious submission of will and intellect to the teachings which either the Roman pontiff or the college of bishops enunciate when they exercise the authentic Magisterium even if they proclaim those teachings in an act that is not definitive.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

OATH OF FIDELITY

I, Stephen Vrazel, in assuming the office of deacon, promise that in my words and in my actions I shall always preserve communion with the Catholic Church.

With great care and fidelity I shall carry out the duties incumbent on me toward the Church, both universal and particular, in which, according to the provisions of the law, I have been called to exercise my service.

In fulfilling the charge entrusted to me in the name of the Church, I shall hold fast to the deposit of faith in its entirety; I shall faithfully hand it on and explain it, and I shall avoid any teachings contrary to it.

I shall follow and foster the common discipline of the entire Church and I shall maintain the observance of all ecclesiastical laws, especially those contained in the Code of Canon Law.

With Christian obedience I shall follow what the Bishops, as authentic doctors and teachers of the faith, declare, or what they, as those who govern the Church, establish.  I shall also faithfully assist the diocesan Bishops, so that the apostolic activity, exercised in the name and by mandate of the Church, may be carried out in communion with the Church.

So help me God, and God's holy Gospels on which I place my hand.

a picture - it's not related to the post:

Gothic Quarter dead ahead

Ninth

I am beginning my ninth year in seminary.  Where I'm sitting right now, it really feels as long as it sounds.  It feels like an eternity since my family moved me into my room at St. Ben's eight years ago.  It feels like ages ago I pulled up at the front door of TC, but it's only been six years.  Even the three years since my plane landed in Rome seems like a long time.  This has been a long process.

I've changed a lot in that time, thanks be to God.  I realize that much of that change is simply parallel to growing up, but it's nice to look back and see God walking with me, leading me to where I am now and beyond.

Beyond!  That's all I can think about.  After yet another taste of parish ministry this summer and realizing that all I really want to do is serve as a priest, coming back to seminary for one more year is kind of testing my patience.  I made the comment to one of my classmates today that I'm considering this final "deacon" year as a mere formality.  I can't wait to get back and start whatever it is God has planned for me.

But then, as I was praying today it hit me pretty hard that even this formality year is a gift from God.  I'm full-speed-ahead regarding the priesthood, and I would probably start tomorrow if it were possible, but for whatever reason, God wants me here right now.

The Lord already has a willing servant--maybe he wants me to work on becoming more of a holy servant.  There's no sense in being excited about ministry in the future if I'm forgetting holiness in the present.  I am here right now, so I'm just going to work on doing that well.

unrelated photo:

Asleep on a bus in the Eastern Desert

Called to Orders

8 years of seminary have elapsed.  Numerous milestones have been passed.  A handful of degrees have been earned.  Many countries and continents visited.  Countless books read.  Numberless hours of prayer (not nearly all my own).  Tears shed.  Smiles bared.  Laughter bellowed.  All of this in a certain direction.

I've felt for a while that God is calling me to be a priest, but now, the Church agrees.  This past Thursday, Archbishop Rodi called Travis Burnett and I to the Order of Deacons.  Let's do this.

Travis and I at a crusader church in Spain.

Farewell OLOG

When I get back to Rome in September, or even over the next few weeks here in Mobile, I know that I will be asked repeatedly:  "How was your summer?"

Our Lady of Guadalupe Parish, Wetumpka, AL
- lots of room for expansion! 

It's a real shame that in those many moments I won't have the opportunity to communicate fully what my summer was like.  I won't be able to express just how important and good this summer has been for me (not to mention that I haven't realized that myself yet).  I'll be limited to just saying, "Oh, it was excellent.  I worked with the youth, and I served Mass, and I did some teaching, and I visited people, and brought the Eucharist to people, etc."  I don't mean to down play those things of themselves.  They are all good things, but experience has taught me that they are so good it makes me want to cry just thinking about them.  That's what I think get's lost in the telling.

When I tell people that I did a lot of work with the Lifeteen group, images of Praise and Worship or maybe this or that game might come to mind, but they won't be privileged to see the things that I'm remembering.  I was amazed to see hundreds of teens adoring the Lord in the Blessed Sacrament at Camp Covecrest, but I was totally floored to see the faithfulness and persistence of just a handful of teens who came week after week to the parish to do the same thing.

When I tell people that I taught a scripture course, they might picture me teaching in a room full of people, each with their Bibles open, but they won't see what I saw.  I appreciate John Chrysostom, but to watch eyes widen and jaws drop as I read his explanation of the water and blood flowing from the side of Christ in the 4th Gospel:  that's how I know he is a Father of the Church, and a much better teacher than I.

When I tell people that I visited the elderly and homebound this summer, they might have a vague picture of that, but they won't see what I see in my mind.  They won't see Ed's smiling face, with his great sense of humor.  They won't hear the quivering voice of Mary, an Alzheimer's patient, as she tries in vain to remember who I am or what she's doing there in the first place.  And, they won't see her cheer up a little bit as she recognizes the Hail Mary, even though she can't remember most of the words.  Clara's voice won't come to mind for them either:  Clara is completely deaf, though she's sharp as a tack.  I'm pretty sure that her faith in the Eucharist is ten times my own.  What a privilege it has been to bring the Body of the Lord to her and to so many others (not just this summer).

Only I will remember those things as I lived them.  I said that was a shame above, but really it's not.  It's not a shame because everyone is given special gifts and blessings from God.  Everyone is part of God's plan.  Everyone is given chance after chance to serve him and to be shocked and awed by the wonders he will not fail to work when we just say yes.

Image of Our Lady of Guadalupe at the parish

It's funny, as I'm writing this, the Ben Folds song "The Luckiest" is playing on iTunes--more than appropriate.  I'm not going to be naïve:  priesthood is not going to be all roses.  There will be plenty of thorns, but God has deigned to grace me with gift and privilege of serving his People in a very special way.  "I know that I am the luckiest."

unrelated photograph:

Emerging from a cave in the hills around Lago Maggiore
(in an Avengers t-shirt)

No Protestants Today

I had attempted to get in touch with a local Methodist church, but we did not connect.  And, as this is my last Sunday in the parish, I'm going out to dinner with the pastor and another priest.  Visiting a church this evening would have made it difficult, so I've decided to give it up for this weekend.  Hopefully when I'm back in Mobile I'll have the opportunity to visit some more.

However, I do have my hands full right now:  I'm cold calling the entire parish to invite them to a special Holy Hour for Vocations on Tuesday night.  The Blessed Sacrament will be exposed here at Our Lady of Guadalupe from 7-8 PM in a special monstrance--one of six blessed by John Paul II in 2005 specifically for the purpose of praying for vocations.

Vocations Monstrance,
blessed by Servant of God
John Paul the Great

We're very blessed to have it for the evening.  Fr. Kelly and I are trying to get a big crowd.  That being our goal, he has given me the phone list of the parish and I'm just making my way through speaking to everyone personally about it.  It really does make a difference--I've already added 8 names to our signup sheet after only about 50 or 60 phone calls.  If we keep up that percentage, this is going to be a pretty well-attended event.

A picture:

Qumran + vintage Bama sweatshirt:
That's what I'm talking about.

Peace

Fr. Kelly and I made peace today (after we had lunch at Cracker Barrel, and I finally hit him with a straw wrapper!).  We sat together and ate his birthday cake.  I had gotten it for his actual birthday, but that was before I new he would spend most of the day out of the office.  So it remained a surprise for today.

These photos are related:

Do you like the confetti?  I thought it was a nice touch.
If somethings worth doing, it's worth doing well.

I didn't sing to him,
but I made him at least blow out a candle.
(I guess I could have turned on the flash.)

Temporary

As my time in Wetumpka comes to a close, I have come to the point that I want a more permanent assignment!  Two months has not been long enough, nor was it enough last summer in Enterprise.  I can't wait to be a priest and be assigned somewhere for a longer period of time.

It goes without saying that I will be ready to move wherever and whenever the archbishop decides, but I don't foresee him moving me about from place to place every couple of months.  I feel like I've only just started.  I know that I still have formation to go through, but I'm itching for some more stable ministry.

So, to the folks at Our Lady of Guadalupe, when I say to you over the next few days that I'll miss you and I'll miss being here (as I also miss the people in Enterprise), know that I really mean it.  I've only just begun to get to know you.  I want to do more!  I want to stay longer!

Oh well.  I guess I'll just have to suck it up and endure another year in Rome...

This photo has nothing to do with what is written above:

Making sure the foundations of Orvieto are up to code...
in a Hawaiian shirt.

Justice? Where?

Today was Fr. Kelly's birthday, and he doesn't like people to know that.  Of course, once I learned those things, I could not but act.

In addition to simply wanting to celebrate his birthday, I also hoped to get a little retribution.  I put a birthday card on his office door, among the many other decorations, and in it I wrote the following:

Fr. Kelly

Happy Birthday!
Consider this payback
for all the many times
you have shot straw wrappers in my face.

Stephen

You see, it has happened many times that when I go to lunch with Fr. Kelly, he catches me unawares and blows the wrapper off his drink straw right at my unsuspecting face.  (I'm usually perusing the menu when he gets me.)  The few times I've tried to get him back by doing the same thing, my straw has misfired or I've simply missed.  Due to constant failure, I had basically given up trying to get back at him for it.  However, when I found out about this birthday thing and that it had a good chance of getting on his nerves, I jumped at the chance and went all out.

Big mistake.

Apparently he has some supernatural power on his side.  Today, as I returned to the church, I unlocked and opened the front door to enter.  When I did, five or six balloons that I had placed there for Fr. Kelly blew out because of the AC.  At the same time, the alarm started beeping reminding me to input the code.  So I ran inside, entered the code and then set all my things down so I could run back outside and collect the balloons before they blew away.

Then I heard the door close behind me...

I had left my keys inside, and the door locks when it closes.  I was stuck outside, unable to get back into my truck nor into the house.  It was hot too.  My only option was to call Fr. Kelly himself.  Believe me, I thought about it for a while.  I went around and checked every single door on the church, even some which I've never seen open.  Nothing--I was stuck.  I had to call Fr. Kelly to let me back in, the very man with whom I had just considered myself to have gotten even.  Great.

And so I am convinced that for whatever reason, the balances are simply perpetually tipped in his favor, no matter how little effort (just trying to shoot a straw wrapper) or how much (staying up late blowing up balloons and hanging streamers), this man will always have the upper hand.  WHY!?

A photo, unrelated:

The worlds smallest shower, Assisi.

Pastor's Birthday!

Today is Fr. Kelly's Birthday!  

Check out what I did:

Update:  Fr. Kelly arrived this morning and went straight to his office, so it's good that I did two sets of decorations.  He still hasn't gone to see the front door.  I'm just relieved that he took it pretty well.  When he got in we joked about it a little bit (I told him I had done it), and then I made him some balloon animals--special thanks to Fr. Dan Good for having taught me how to do that.