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)

Church of God

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

[Beware: long post.  It probably would have been nice to throw some pictures in to keep your attention, but because of the circumstances, taking pictures was impossible (or highly imprudent).  If you make it through, congratulations:  you're a trooper.]

Okay, it is no accident that there are a bunch of pictures from Egypt in my recent post on my motivation for this protestant church run.  (Be sure to check it out before reading this much longer post.)  It's actually because while I was at the evening service of one of the local Church of God congregations, I felt very much out of place.  The thought occurred to me that I was more at home at a Coptic liturgy (which is mainly in Arabic, but with some Coptic and a touch of Greek) than I was at this church.

Please do not misunderstand!  I don't mean to say that I did not like the service, nor that I didn't see any value in how they did things, nor even that I did not participate in praying and worshipping with my protestant brothers and sisters.  On the contrary, I found it edifying and in some ways powerful.  As I have predicted, there are certain things that I don't like and that I can't accept, but like I said in the last post, I'm not going to simply note the differences.  I'm already keenly aware of many of those.

What I mean to say is that other than the language itself, the experience was almost entirely foreign to me.  I contrast that with my experience of the Coptic Catholic Church, which is itself very different from Roman Catholicism, but not in any way that separates them from that Body of which I am also a part.

Here's how things proceeded.  About 15 minutes before the service, I exit my truck in the parking lot dressed in my nicest set of clerics, suit coat and everything, even though it's black and I'm in Alabama in July!  I walk into the foyer, immediately standing out, and providing the perfect target for the pastor.  That was the intended effect because I didn't want to be on my own any longer than necessary.  He was very welcoming, and introduced me to one of his assistant pastors, who was to be my guide, more or less.  I talked with him for a little bit about who we were, and he showed me around.  Then there wasn't much left to be said, so I just asked if I could just go in the church and pick a spot.  The choir was done practicing, so he said sure, and I went on my merry way.  As a good Catholic, I nabbed a sweet spot in the back row.

It was at this point I realized I was not in Kansas anymore.

I sat down and within seconds, something was not right.  I looked around to see what it might be.  Aha!  Everyone in this place is standing around talking to each other!  Now, granted, I new that this would be part of the picture, but I had momentarily forgotten, and the experience was therefore striking.  I am used to going into church and being quiet.  People might be praying, and I usually want to pray, but beyond that, I'm supposed to (and want to) show respect to the Blessed Sacrament.  But that's not how they do things in the Church of God (and I'm sure in many other denominations).  There were about 50 or 60 people broken up into twos and threes just catching up on the week, or whatever they were talking about.

I began just noting the phenomenon as I sat and mentally/spiritually prepared myself for what would be happening in a few minutes, but I was not to remain an outside observer for long.  Within 3 minutes, about ten people had come up and introduced themselves.  It actually shocked me the first time, because it's not a hushed hello like you might experience in a Catholic church sometimes.  No, it's a full blown conversation at conversational volume, and even with outbursts of laughter.  To tell the truth, I really liked this.  After I got over my incredulity, I felt genuinely welcome, despite being obviously very different from these people (marked clearly by my Roman collar).  Don't worry though!  I'm not about to write," now why can't we do that in the Catholic church?"  It's obvious to me that it wouldn't work, and that it shouldn't work.  Silence is beautiful, and the sense of the sacred that we have should not be gotten rid of.  Nevertheless, what those people do, and how they immediately welcome the stranger--it's just fantastic.  To feel immediately at home because this person before me is smiling, and genuinely interested in me, and is very happy that I chose to be with him that evening, this is a good.  And it's something that Catholics don't have.  We have other ways of welcoming visitors (though most places could do a much better job of it!), but we will never have this.  To be frank, that makes me a little sad or disappointed because I really liked it.

Moving on:  the service was kind of like a firework.  It started off very fast, kept moving, exploded in an incredible light filled display...and then just disappeared.  We started with a couple songs--obviously no procession or anything.  The only clear mark of the beginning was the music director saying something along the lines of "y'all want to pray tonight?" and us responding, "yes," and him saying "Y'ALL WANT TO PRAY TONIGHT?" and us responding thunderously, "YES!"  I forget the exact words, because just then the music started and it was awesome.  Nothing short of gospel concert quality, I kid you not.  You can tell where they spend their money.  The music was great, but the lyrics were a little bit shallow.  I came away thinking sometimes that "being redeemed" was to be equated with "being free from stress."  Don't generalize from that though.  There were good moments, but the lyrics had no real theology behind them.

Still, it was not long before the entire church was swaying, clapping, singing, shouting, etc.  I sang as best I could, and clapped my hands.  I was a bit out of my comfort zone, but I did not want anyone to look back and see a stoic Catholic "who obviously only came to observe and quite clearly thinks he's better than us."  This would of course not be true, but if I'm to be serious with my goal of getting into the practices of these denominations, I've got to actually do that!  So, there I was for the first time ever purposefully having fun at church on Sunday (or at least trying my best to).  Not that I don't enjoy Catholic liturgy, but I don't think I could say that I've had fun at Mass, at least, not if I was doing what I was supposed to be doing.  I can think of many times, especially growing up, when I would mischievously try my best to have fun at church, but I usually got a spanking for it.

Then there were some announcements (very quick, let's get back to this rocket racing upward!), then more songs, and then the choir left the stage (is that what I'm to call it?) and the pastor got up to the pulpit.  I would like to say this was the longest sermon I've ever heard (around 45 minutes), but sadly, I think I've sat through some homilies that have been that long, but have had no where near the vitality that this one had.  We have got to preach better.  I don't think we need to break out into shouting like this guy tended to do, but we need some life in our homilies.

We focused entirely on the book of Job.  It was in general a pretty solid look at the story and the characters, and he related it well.  At times I winced at this or that little thing, but I really did glean a lot from the sermon.  I'm still, two days later, thinking about parts of it, and incorporating them into my personal prayer.  He ended on a note of trust, that God will only ever send trials our way in measures that we're capable of handling (with his help of course), and so in a way, God trusts us.  In the face of whatever suffering or doubt or trial, we have to trust him in return.

So at the end of the sermon, he invited anyone who was going through anything tough to come forward.  I considered going down, but in case I might be asked to do something or say something I could not in good conscience do or say, I stayed put.  It's too bad, because it ended up it would have been fine.  Still, I didn't want to cause a scene.

Basically, he kept preaching for a little bit with everyone there in front of him (half the pews emptied out).  Then it was time for everyone to just start praising God, in whatever way.  So we had a number of people break out into tongues, other people were shaking, all that stuff.  I have experienced this sort of thing in Catholic Charismatic groups, but there's something different about the way protestants do it.  I haven't reflected enough on this.  Anyway, that proceeded for a while, got more and more intense.  People were genuinely moved (and I have to admit, I was too), because the pastor knew them all and would talk to them about what was happening in their lives and everyone was just encouraged to persevere and to trust the Lord.  Then, he sort of brought it to an end, but invited everyone who wanted to make a public testament.  (Uh oh.  Glad I stayed in the pews.)  He just had everyone say into the microphone individually, "I trust the Lord."  Oh, okay.  I think that would have been alright, but I'm glad I stayed in the pews just to be on the safe side.  I don't want to cause scandal by appearing to profess the faith of a non-Catholic church, especially since actually doing so would impede me from being ordained.

After that, huge explosion of tongues and trust, the service began to fizzle out.  We sang one of the songs from before the sermon, but without the choir going back up, and I think even without all the instruments that had been playing.  Then after the song, the pastor very quickly encouraged all of us who did not make the public testimony to make a testimony to someone before we left.  So, I told a few people, privately that indeed, "I trust the Lord."  I even said it to the pastor as I thanked him for the hospitality and told him that the service was, "beautiful."  (I mean, it was.  It was just very different.)  Then, I left.  That was it.  Comments?

not related:

Not a hi-res photo, but I think you can tell which is me.

Update:  I said something above without meaning to say it.  "I came away thinking sometimes that "being redeemed" was to be equated with 'being free from stress.'"  That sounds like a put down, and in a certain sense it is, but at the same time, I wasn't all that clear.  I know a fair number of people who struggle seriously with scrupulosity, and for them, they very much need to hear that Jesus frees you from worry!  And, since I don't have the text of the lyrics, I'm not going to base a judgment of a song from my mere impression, which, let's be honest, had at least some elements of looking down my nose.  No matter how much I tried, I have to admit that I was rather proud of my religion, and that pride affected my experience.  Regardless of my reaction to the music, there's no denying that it spoke to the people there.  Okay, disclaimer added.