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.

iTunes Advice and Beyond

Over the past few months, I undertook the project to listen to all of the music in my iTunes library that I hadn't listened to in over a year (since iTunes conveniently keeps track of stats like that).  It was over half my collection.  Since I was going through so many songs, I also set about the task of ranking the entire library, something I had always been too lazy to do.

I know are all kinds of ways to sort my music, including the Genius option, but I figured:  What's the point of having all this music if I never listen to it?  Sure, the amount of music is measured in days, not hours, but that's kind of the whole point.  I had been getting so sidetracked looking for and listening to new music, that I had been ignoring massive portions of my collection.

As I plowed my way through my fairly sized collection (none of it pirated, by the way), I forced myself to listen to every single track all the way through, even if I hated a song and ended up giving it a low rating.  Well, it was worth it.  I discovered a number of songs I had forgot how much I liked, and now that they're ranked, it's much easier to find them.

I was as excited about some songs
as I am that they're making
a Captain America movie.

While I'm on the topic (and I alluded to this in my Fireworks post), I have rediscovered listening to the radio.  There's something I really enjoy about having no control over what song is coming next.  I've been listening to Montgomery's Mix 103 a lot this summer, and I've heard a number of awesome songs that I hadn't heard in years and that I didn't own in my collection.  I have enjoyed the random quality of the radio so much, that I have purposefully not gotten onto iTunes to buy this or that song that I really liked after I heard it on the radio.  That way, I won't overplay it to myself, and when it comes on the radio the next time (which could be a day, a year, or a decade later), I'll be genuinely excited.  Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Let's go deeper here.  This predicament is a perfect example of the exhaustibility of the inexhaustible stuff with which the world presents us.  This need to strategize so as to not get tired of this or that song tells me something about my human condition.  There are a number of songs that I love, songs that speak to my heart in deep ways that I find it hard to express in words (which isn't a problem, because it's a song).  These kinds of songs - I would be quick to say that I could never grow tired of them.  But that's not entirely accurate.  I've done it before that I have loved a song so much, that I've listened to it over and over and over again, and now, years later ... I still hate to listen to the song.  Wait, when did that happen?

A song, even a beautiful song, is still just a created thing.  It's still finite.  It's still just an echo of what is truly Beautiful.  Music is only one part of the human experience, something that is part of our journey towards our End.  Just like money, power, food, drugs, etc., if we give too large a portion of our attention on music or any other created thing, then we've mis-used it.

The songs that I don't ever grow tired of?  They're the ones that point me to God.
(NB:  That doesn't mean they have to be "religious" songs.)

I hope this makes sense--I don't know if I've expressed it very well.

A photo having naught to do with this post:

They called me King Farouk in Egypt.
Can you tell why?

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.

Home

*This post is one in a series chronicling my ecumenical visits to various area protestant churches.

 As I've said, I did not feel at home at the Church of God.  Well, I felt even less at home at the Baptist church.

What do I mean by that?  Well, I think had the Church of God minister preached the same way as the Baptist one they would have been about the same.  At the Church of God I heard some "doctrine" in the sermon, but it was mainly about the story of Job and what it means to trust in God.  It was actually pretty edifying.

I contrast this with the Baptist sermon, which focused almost entirely on Baptist "doctrine."  Now, I don't know if that's the way he preaches every week, because he actually warned me before the service that he would preach on what they believe.  Still, he couldn't have made any clearer the differences between us.  I've said that my intent on visiting these other faiths is not about noting the differences, but on trying to see the similarities, to notice what we have in common.  I found it very difficult to do that this weekend.

I don't say these things to put the Baptists down.  Maybe this would also go for the Church of God's beliefs, but like I said, that sermon was much more emotive and encouraging for perseverance rather than a creed.  But I walked out of the Baptist church thinking to myself that they have a very impoverished understanding of God's Self-Revelation and their own vocation to holiness.  I disagreed with a lot, and had it come to argument (and it did not, because that's not why I went), I could have backed up the Catholic position with Scripture, with the Fathers, and with my own use of reason.

None of that matters though when you realize that they are galvanized in their point of view.  The way things were presented made it very clear to me that pulling one of them aside and listing off to them my own 95 Theses against the Baptists would have made no difference.  (Something I already knew - Testifying to the Truth is not just being able to state it clearly, but actually living it.)  It was truly amazing for me--who have spent the last three years broadening my experiences of expressions of the faith by living in Rome and traveling from place to place--to sit and worship God with a small group of people in Elmore County, Alabama who have it all figured out, who have little connection to the rest of the Christian world, whose concept of "church" is just the people that fit in their small building on Sundays and Wednesdays.  The universality of perspective of the Catholic Faith stands in stark contrast to the Baptist point of view.

But like I said, I didn't go to note the negatives but the positives.  And well, I enjoyed the singing, and I was very glad to see that their hymnal had music for four part polyphony on just about every song.  Again, like the Church of God, the hospitality was very warm, and I very much appreciated it.  I also met a couple people (including the pastor) who have familial connections to Our Lady of Guadalupe.  I also enjoyed praying with them.  They had something like the General Intercessions, where the pastor led everyone in prayer for the needs of the community.  They do in fact care about and entrust to God their sick and suffering.  Imagine that!  I don't know why but it caught me a little off guard.

Let me reiterate:  I go to these services with the intention of participating as fully as possible without compromising my own Catholic identity.  So I prayed with them, I sang the hymns in praise of God, I listened to the sermon and to the testimonial given by one of the members.  The task is to show up and really pray with them, and to show them that I'm not afraid to do that.  Even though I felt pretty uncomfortable (and not for lack of hospitality), I at least did my best to be present to them.

And then there was the issue of silence.  The Church of God was noisy before the service because everyone stood around talking.  This church wasn't.  ...  That's not because they're at all like a Catholic church, but because the choir was practicing, and the projector on the wall was displaying the words "please be quiet, the choir is rehearsing."  Regardless of the reason, I was allowed to sit in silence before the service started.

Anyway, this visit definitely made me appreciate more my Home and the manifold blessings God has given me.  "There but for the Grace of God go I."  My life, my Catholic upbringing, and my vocation are truly wonderful gifts from God.

Unrelated Photograph:

Standing solemnly at the grave
of Gen. Patton in Luxembourg.
Note the beard.

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.

Baptists [preview]

*This post is one in a series chronicling my ecumenical visits to various area protestant churches.

I visited a Baptist church this evening.  I need some time to reflect about it, but there's a post on the way.  (I doubt very much that it will be as laborious a read as last weeks!)

In the meantime, here's a photo that you may or may not find interesting:

"Up to Something"
Blenheim Palace (Churchill's family home)