Dominican Cooperator Brother

Welcome to this blog!

2012-02-09T22:58:00.001-05:00

This blog has taken on many roles in the past four or five years, but it's primary focus has always been the promotion of the vocation of the Dominican cooperator brotherhood, one of the many forms of religious life available in the Order of Preachers.

On this blog, there are several ways to learn about the brothers. First, please read through the F.A.Q. page, which answers some of the more basic questions that people have about the brothers. Questions like: What are cooperator brothers? What do brothers do? What is the training (formation) of brothers like? How do you know if you are called to be a brother?

There are three pages dedicated to giving quick information about famous and holy Dominican cooperator brothers, including one dedicated to listing the many brothers who have been martyred for the faith, and a calendar of brother saints from all the religious orders of the Catholic Church.

For those who are discerning a vocation to the religious life, there is a page that addresses the process of formally beginning the journey of entering the Order of Preacher (specifically for the Province of St. Albert the Great).

On the right side bar, you will find links to several blog essays written by Br. Paul over the past four years. They reflect his own unique opinions about cooperator brotherhood and religious life in general, and do not necessarily reflect every brothers' perspective or the official stance of his province or the Order of Preachers. Still, they should give the reader a sense of own friar's vision for this vocation during a time of the renewal of the brotherhood. There are links, also, to essays written by or about other cooperator brothers.

Please enjoy and pray for vocations to the religious life,
Br. Paul, OP

St. Anthony of Egypt: Preaching Notes

2012-01-17T00:00:00.000-05:00

“Butcome, let us talk no more of this, for you and I both know sharp practice,since you are far the best of all mortal men for counsel and stories, and Iamong all the divinities am famous for wit and sharpness; and yet you neverrecognized Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus, the one who is always standingbeside you and guarding you in every endeavor” (206—The Odyssey, Book 13).

Oneof the most important and beautiful chapters of Homer’s The Odyssey is Book XIII, which describes the homecoming of thegreat Trojan War Hero Odysseus after many delays and obstacles. It’s in thischapter that the Goddess Athena—the goddess of wisdom—confesses her loving carefor Odysseus. She has been with him always, leading him through dangers to thesafety of home. We the readers knew this, of course. We recognized herdisguised as the wise old man, the young servant boy, the little girl—but herchampion, Odysseus, did not. For all of his devotion to the goddess, he wasoften too distracted by the cares of the present moment to feel her lovingpresence. This distraction weakened his trust in her.

Unfortunately,just as in The Odyssey, the people ofGod (of times past and today) are sometimes so distracted by their own caresthey cannot feel the presence of the God who loves them. He who, as Homer putit, “is always standing beside them and guarding them in every endeavor.” Wesee this dynamic played out in today’s Gospel with the Pharisees. They are menwho are dear to God and who love him in return, but who are so distracted bytheir own knowledge of religious law (and the seeming faults of others) thatthey cannot see the God before them—literally,the God standing right in front of them. Sadly, the love of IncarnateWisdom is lost on them.

Fortunately,we have a better example set before us today in St. Anthony of Egypt, one ofthe founders of religious life. Anthony was the son of a wealthy Christiancouple who died, leaving him and his sister a great deal of property. To anyoneelse, the estate with its 200 acres of rich, fertile land might have been acomfort, but to Anthony, who heard the Gospel “Go, sell everything you have,and give to the poor,” along with “Do not worry about tomorrow,” the comfort ofhome was a potential danger. Unlike the man Odysseus, Anthony knew the greatesttreasures in life were not fortune, fame, or even family, but the love andcompanionship of God. Accordingly, he sold his family’s estate, provided forhis sister’s care, and went out to the desert to be alone with God. Many wouldfollow his example, and so a new form of Christian religious life began.

Whenwe think of the desert fathers (who might be called desert brothers, as many ofthem, like Anthony and Pachomius the Great, were not ordained), wefocus on their asceticism—their rigorous fasting, prayer, poverty, chastity,solitude, and silence. But when you read the advice of desert fathers (andmothers) as collected by St. John Cassian, what they remind us is that theseascetical practices are merely means to an end. Religious life, in whateverform it takes, is first and foremost about companionship with God. Asceticismhelps facilitate that companionship by warding off distraction.

Itis fitting then, that we sit with the examples placed before us today as a wayto discern our own successes and failures as religious. Are we like the manOdysseus and the Pharisees, too distracted to notice the God who loves us? Orare we like St. Anthony and the Disciples, who are willing to go to greatlengths, even to the point of giving up the comforts most people live and diefor, so that when the God who loves us comes among us, we are ready and wise enough to return his love?

Br.Paul Byrd, OP

New St. Dominic Priory

2012-01-07T18:11:00.001-05:00

“WelcomeHome!” This is the greeting that we havebeen receiving from visitors, the movers, the food service, the constructionworkers, and from everyone involved with the move in any way. Our first night at St. Dominic Priory wasDecember 15^th. About a weekbefore we began the packing and cleaning process. We packed and cleaned our own rooms, but alsothe common rooms, the chapels, the laundry room, and the hallways. On the 13^th and 14^ththe movers made continuous runs from Jesuit Hall to St. Dominic Priory fromearly in the morning until late at night. Our final Conventual Mass at Jesuit Hall was on the morning of the 14^thand concluded with the chanting of the Salva Regina, marking an end to our 30years at Jesuit Hall.

On the eveningof the 15^th was the first Conventual Mass at St. Dominic Priory inthe temporary chapel. Although thecloister and common areas of the priory are completed, the chapel will be underconstruction and renovation until the end of January and choir stalls should bein place by August 2012.

Life atSt. Dominic Priory is great! There is atrue cloister where silence can be observed, there is an actual chapel, aspacious library with workspaces, a private outdoor space, and most importantlyan authentic Dominican atmosphere that will allow us to truly make St. DominicPriory a Holy Preaching.

Theunpacking and settling in continues, but St. Dominic Priory already feels likehome. On a walk through the priory wesee boxes in the hallways and the common spaces, pictures leaning against thewall. We hear the sounds of constructioncoming from the chapel. We smell thosescents of new carpet and new furniture. And we all have the feeling that we are blessed to be the group offriars that made the transition from Jesuit Hall to St. Dominic Priory. We are the first group of friars that gets totell others; Welcome to our home!

Br. Francis Orozo, OP

Student brother of the Southern Province of St. Martin de Porres

To see more photos of the nearly completed new St. Dominic Priory Click HERE. There's also a link on that website to learn more about how to donate to the priory project. Please consider giving a donation to the priory project. You money goes to support the education of future Dominican preachers.

Welcome to this blog

2011-11-08T12:36:00.001-05:00

Anonymous: A Film Recommendation

2011-11-05T01:23:00.000-04:00

That the plays and poems collected under the name of Shakespeare are some of the finest specimens of English literature of time up to this point remains an undisputed opinion in the English speaking world. Just the opening lines to the many famous speeches from works such as Hamlet, Macbeth, Henry V, and Romeo and Juliet (to name only a few) are enough to bring tears to the eye and fire to the heart. There is something so noble in the vision of this writer that it cuts to the quick of our common humanity.

Alas, there is a mystery--who was this poet and playwright, really? In Anonymous, the masses enjoy a look into the world of English majors and historians, two groups that revel in questioning and overthrowing our beloved legends, showing us how very uncertain our legacy is on any level.

Make no mistake, this not another Shakespeare in Love movie, or a half done survey of Shakespeare's oeuvre--it's a thoroughly played out theory on the real author of these immortal works. The tale weaves together the lives of Queen Elizabeth I, the man William Shakespeare, fellow playwright Ben Jonson, and a cast of royal and political figures important to the story--including the figure of the proposed "true" author. I must say , I was grateful that I had recently watched the film about Elizabeth I that starred Helen Mirren, as it can be difficult to keep all of those dukes, earls, and ladies straight.

I think audiences of all backgrounds will like this film--even people who don't usually go to see Shakespeare plays. It has action, plot, character development, a great cast, and bits and pieces of the best scripts this side of heaven. Whether it disconcerts any die-hard Shakespeare fans, I cannot say, but I am sure the love of the Bard will weather the rather nasty alternative portrayal of the man William Shakespeare.

Get thee to a theatre and see this film!
Br. Paul, OP

Venerable Father Samuel Mazzuchelli, OP

2011-11-04T00:00:00.000-04:00

The following is a guest reflection by Br. Samuel Hakeem, OP, written in honor of his patron saint on the anniversary of Ven. Fr. Samuel Mazzuchelli's birth on Nov. 4th, 1806.

“Let us rouse ourselves then, and let us open eyes of Evangelical charity, and if we are called, let us direct our steps wherever the work is great and difficult, but where also with the help of Him Who sent us, we shall open the ways for the Gospel and where through Him our labors and fatigues will meet with success according to the certain word of Saint Paul: ‘I have planted, Apollo watered: but God gave the increase.”

-Memoirs of Father Mazzuchelli, O.P.

I first came across these words of Samuel Mazzuchelli one week before entering the Dominican Novitiate. Here I was, on the threshold of this new journey of religious life—unsure of what lie ahead, yet confidently trusting in God’s plan. As I continued Mazzuchelli’s memoirs, I grew more intrigued and amazed by the stories of his life. I was being introduced to not only an amazing man, but someone who would soon become my brother in St. Dominic. As I began the novitiate, I received the habit of the Dominican Order and along with it, I received the religious name Samuel—inspired by his story, and ready to set out on an adventure of my own.

Samuel Mazzuchelli was born in Milan, Italy in 1806. He grew up in the shadow of Milan’s Duomo [cathedral church]. Despite being born into a comfortable family, his early life was not without troubles—Samuel’s mother died when he was only six years old. He was sent to the Collegio di Sant’Antonio, a boarding school in Lugano, Switzerland specifically for children who had lost parents. It was here that young Samuel would be introduced to St. Dominic through a picture which hung in the sacristy of the school’s chapel. The seed was planted for his vocation—a seed which would begin to sprout before too long.

Mazzuchelli entered the Dominican novitiate in 1823 at the age of 17. After professing vows, he studied at the Convent of Santa Sabina in Rome. When Samuel was 22, Father Edward Fenwick, Dominican friar and first bishop of the Diocese of Cincinnati, travelled to Rome to ask for friars to join him in the new land of the American West. Mazzuchelli answered the call and, at 23 years old, before being ordained, Samuel Mazzuchelli left behind his home, his culture, and his family and journeyed to America.

After learning English and completing his studies for the priesthood with the Dominicans in Kentucky, Mazzuchelli was assigned to a vast area of the new West. Basing himself out of Mackinac Island, Mazzucelli became the only priest for all of modern-day Michigan, Wisconsin, and parts of Illinois. This area was sparsely populated with settlers and Native Americans—both of whom this missionary would serve.

Eventually, Samuel would end up in the tri-state area of Iowa, Wisconsin, and Illinois, ministering to the lead miners who had settled in the hills near the Mississippi River. Mazzuchelli built 24 churches and civil buildings in this area (with no formal architectural training), began an academy for women, and founded a convent of Dominican sisters in Sinsinawa, WI which is still active today. He spent his final days in Benton, WI, working at the girl’s academy and ministering at the town church. He died February 23, 1864, succumbing to an illness he contracted while travelling through the cold Wisconsin winter night in order to minister to a sick Catholic outside of town.

One thing that Mazzuchelli was known for was being one with the people he served—a somewhat novel idea for Christian missionaries in developing America. Whether it was among the fur traders on Mackinac, the Native Americans in Wisconsin and Michigan, or the Irish miners of the tri-state region, Mazzuchelli met the people where they were. When among the native peoples, he would sleep on bark mats in the wigwams. He would eat what they ate, and be pleased with what he was given. He fought for the rights of Native Americans, writing to President Andrew Jackson in opposition to the relocation of these people. Later in Benton, WI, the Irish immigrants began calling him Fr. Matthew Kelly, claiming him as a son of Ireland! This blending enabled Mazzuchelli to earn the respect of these people, living an authentically Christian life and making his ministry more effective.

His joyful, down-to-earth demeanor was matched by a zeal for the faith and an intelligent mind. He was a renowned preacher with an eloquence which captivated his congregations. Upon entering new areas to minister, he was often met with resistance and even hostility from Protestant ministers. He kept his cool, however, and would offer to debate these ministers in a civil way. He would allow the minister to make his statement, and then would wait a week before giving his reply. His cool demeanor was attractive to the people, and many entered the Catholic Church as a result.

Mazzuchelli was completely devoted to his ministry as a Dominican Friar. He was fully devoted to the mission of preaching and the salvation of souls, even to the time of his death. This mission was strengthened by a spiritual life marked by devotion to the Eucharist and Mary under the title of Our Lady of Sorrows. This title of Mary suggests, and history confirms, that his life was not easy. He spent most of his life far from his family. His work was difficult, and he was often met with opposition. He ran into financial trouble after building a church in Green Bay—trouble which would take years to amend. He attempted to begin a new province of Dominicans which failed for a number of reasons. Through it all, though, Mazzuchelli stayed close to God, finding comfort and strength in the intercession of the Blessed Mother.

Today, many people find comfort and strength in Samuel Mazzuchelli’s intercession. For me, Samuel serves not only as an intercessor, but so much more. He is someone who I strive to be like in my day-to-day life. Someone who answered God’s call to live a life of difficulty with a resounding yes. Someone who hoped and trusted God, finding strength in the Sacraments and the Church. Someone with a zeal for souls and on fire for the faith, responsible for the conversion of many. Someone who respected all peoples, regardless of race, class, or social setting. To me, Samuel Mazzuchelli is a brother, a role model, a hero, a patron--and, yes, a saint.

Br. Samuel Hakeem, OP

Feast of St. Martin de Porres

2011-11-03T00:00:00.000-04:00

There once was a friar who worked very hard to be the perfect Dominican. He preached tirelessly, in imitation of St. Dominic, and zealously like St. Vincent Ferrar. When he was not preaching, he was studying and writing, like St. Albert and St. Thomas. And in the time left over, he was mortifying himself like St. Rose, or writing letters of advice like St. Catherine de Ricci and St. Catherine of Siena. He was known to even have performed a few miracles, like St. Louis Bertrand and St. Agnes of Montepulciano.

The people of the town where he lived loved him, because he was as generous as St. Antoninus. Everyone was sure that this friar would go very far. He would be Master of the Order some day, or even the pope, like St. Pius V. The friar would sometimes hear people say this, but he was undisturbed. He only wanted to be the best Dominican he could be.

One night, after a long day of preaching, and visiting the sick, and reading, the friar paused to pray before the Blessed Sacrament. As was his custom, he prayed for help to reach his goal of being the best Dominican he could be. In his head, he went through the list of his Dominican heroes and heroines, comparing their work with his.

As he was doing so, an angel of God suddenly appeared to him. The friar was greatly amazed. After the usual polite introductions, the angel said to him, "You may ask me one thing, but one thing only, so choose wisely."

It did not take the friar long to consider what question to ask. After only a short pause, he replied, "Who is the greatest Dominican saint? I wish to know, so that I may follow in his or her footsteps. I have been so busy trying to imitate them all, that I am sometimes very tired. I'm sure it would be easier to have only one person to imitate rather than so many--and all so mighty in virtue."

"Who did the Messiah say was greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven?" the angel asked the friar.

The friar thought, then answered, "He said the one who made himself the servant of all."

"Then Brother Martin is the greatest--for he was wise in the way of love and strong in the way of prayer. He performed many miracles and preached great homilies by way of his deeds. And in all this, he put away any and all thought of himself. He loved God and his neighbor, and thus became a man defined by love. If you wish to be a great Dominican, follow Brother Martin's example and become the servant of all. As of yet, you still serve others to serve yourself. Learn to serve others for their sake alone."

"Is there a book I could read, so I could learn Brother Martin's way?" returned the friar.

"You have the Gospel, follow it."

The friar was still confused. "I have been, but what else?"

"You have the sacraments, live them."

"I have done this, too."

"Then go be with your neighbors."

The friar scratched his head, "And do what?"

"Nothing," the angel said. "Just be with them."

"Is that it?" exclaimed the friar.

"That," the angel said, "is everything."

Br. Paul, OP~

All Souls Day

2011-11-02T00:00:00.001-04:00

"But the souls of the just

are in the hand of God,

and no torment shall touch them.

They seemed, in the view of the foolish,

to be dead;

and their passing away

was thought an affliction

and their going forth from us,

utter destruction.

But they are in peace.

For if before men, indeed,

they be punished,

yet is their hope full of immortality;

Chastised a little,

they shall be greatly blessed,

because God tried them

and found them worthy of himself.

As gold in the furnace, he proved them,

and as sacrificial offerings

he took them to himself.

In the time of their visitation

they shall shine,

and shall dart about as sparks

through stubble.

They shall judge nations

and rule over peoples,

and the Lord shall be their King forever.

Those who trust in him

shall understand truth,

and the faithful shall

abide with him in love:

Because grace and mercy

are with his holy ones,

and his care is with his elect.

(Wisdom3:1-9)

Today my family remembers Morris Niceley (grandfather) and Mary Kathleen Gross (aunt) who died this year. May God bless them and all our dearly departed with peace and eternal life with him.

Br. Paul, OP

All Saints Day

2011-11-01T00:11:00.002-04:00

From "All Saints' Day"

by John Keble*

Little they dream, those haughty souls

Whom empires own with bended knee,

What lowly fate their own controls,

Together linked by Heaven's decree;--

As bloodhounds hush their baying wild

To wanton with some fearless child,

So famine waits, and War with greedy eyes,

Till some repenting heart be ready for the skies.

Think ye the spires that glow so bright

In front of yonder setting sun,

Stand by their own unshaken might?

No--where th'upholding grace is won,

We dare not ask, nor Heaven would tell,

But sure from many a hidden dell,

From many a rural nook unthought of there,

Rises for that proud world the saints' prevailing prayer.

Oh Champions blest, in Jesus' name,

Short be your strife, your triumph full,

Till every heart have caught your flame,

And, lightened of the world's misrule,

Ye soar those elder saints to meet,

Gathered long since at Jesus' feet,

No world of passions to destroy,

Your prayers and struggles o'er your task all praise and joy.

*John Keble is considered a saint in the Anglican Church, and is remembered on July 14.

To read the entire poem, Click HERE

That He Might Have Mercy Upon All

2011-10-31T00:00:00.000-04:00

Click HERE to read today's scriptures

"For God delivered all to disobedience,

that he might have mercy upon us all,"

(Romans 11:32)

St. Paul's message to us in today's first reading, Romans 11:29-36, is a fascinating example of his sometimes strange reasoning, as well as a text used to support the theory of God's universal salvific will--that is, the idea that God wants all to be saved, (see also 1 Timothy 2:4). All people, not just some. Theologians have debated over the centuries of what it means to say that God "wills" all to be saved, and they have created neat little categories that, in the end, leave us back where we began: uncertain. One might say they make God seem like St. Paul, willing the good, but not able to accomplish it (Rom. 7:19a). Perhaps this is unfair to these theologians, considering scripture is ambiguous on this point.

Instead of focusing on these unnamed theologians, however, I wish to quote a feminine theologian and mystic, the great Blessed Julian of Norwich. In a famous paragraph from her Revelation of Divine Love (short text), she writes: "But I did not see sin; for I believe it has no sort of substance nor portion of being, nor could it be recognized were it not for the suffering which it causes. And this suffering seems to me to be something transient, for it purges us and makes us know ourselves and pray for mercy; for the Passion of our Lord supports us against all this, and that is his blessed will for all who shall be saved. He supports us willingly and sweetly, by his words, and says, 'But all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.' these words were shown very tenderly, with no suggestion that I or anyone who will be saved was being blamed. It would therefore be very strange to blame or wonder at God because of my sins, since he does not blame me for sinning," (Ch. 13). In the longer, revised version of her text, she writes, "Furthermore he taught that I should consider the glorious atonement; for this atonement is incomparably more pleasing to God and more glorious in saving mankind than Adam's sin was ever harmful," (Ch. 29).

Sin--that great Christian preoccupation--is trampled under foot by Saint Paul and Blessed Julian, two great Christians who were privileged to really understand the meaning of the Passion of Christ--an act not of a stingy, exclusive, and selective God, but the supreme act of divine generosity toward all of humankind. How, after all, could God choose between peoples, when "all have sinned and are deprived of the glory of God" (Rom. 3:23). Blessed Julian was so moved by the realization that human sin was so petty and little compared to God's love that she struggled to believe that any would be in hell. In the end, she only believed people would be in hell, because the Church taught that there would be (Chapter 32 of the long text).

And St. Paul? He is so moved by the conviction that God's mercy triumphs over all that he reasons that even the rejection of the Messiah by most of the Jews was for the good, because it was a major reason that the Gentiles were brought into the covenant. In supreme, or divine irony, God would have mercy of the Jews, because they helped him to have mercy on the Gentiles (Rom. 11:31). Indeed, Paul argues that God allows everyone to fall into sin--Jew and Gentile alike--so that he can have mercy on us all. This is a bewildering and astounding claim, the revelation of a mystic.

Mystics are comfortable with the strange peculiarities of God. They do not try to categorize God and fit him into a nice little system. In the end, they recognize that to encounter God is ultimately to realize just how "other" he is. As the Prophet Isaiah says, "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says Adonai. As high as the heavens are above the earth, so high are my ways above your ways and my thoughts above your thoughts," (55:8-9). Paul echoes this sentiment when he writes:

"Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom

and knowledge of God!

How inscrutable are his judgments

and how unsearchable his ways!"

(Rom. 11:33)

If the great apostle can admit that God's mercy is such a powerful, overwhelming force--one that eclipses human sin--how is it that so few others are able to do so, as well? Again, I think it is a small, insufficient understanding of what the Passion of Christ was really all about, and perhaps it is self-denial about one's own sinfulness--for Saint Paul and Blessed Julian were two people who meditated on their sinfulness and had an appropriate hatred for sin. Penitents desire mercy for themselves and for all sinners, while the self-righteous see only the sins of others, and have no problem contemplating divine wrath raining down on their neighbors. Would that we were all like Father Abraham, risking God's annoyance by interceding for fellow sinners (Gen. 18:16-33)!

Saint Paul and Blessed Julian call for us to contemplate God's great love for us today, shown through the Passion of Christ, and to have confidence in God's divine mercy. "For his love is so great that everything seems a trifle to him in comparison. For although the dear humanity of Christ could only suffer once, his goodness makes him always ready to do so again; he would do it every day if it were possible; and if he said that for love of me he would make new heavens and a new earth, it would be but little in comparison, for he could do this every day if he so wished, without any hardship; but to offer to die for love of me so often that the number of times passes human comprehension, that is the most glorious present that our Lord God could make to man's soul, it seems to me." (Revelation of Divine Love, Long Text, Ch. 22).

Br. Paul, OP

Call No One On Earth Your Father: Jesus on Clericalism

2011-10-30T07:47:00.000-04:00

Click HERE to read today's scriptures

"Call no man on earth your father," (Matt 23:9). It would be easy to jump to the conclusion that, based on this one little line, that the Catholic and Orthodox Christian traditions have gone wrong somewhere, as some of our Protestant brothers and sisters have argued--but these traditions are too ancient to be dismissed by such a literal interpretation to this little line. As usual, Jesus is trying to say something bigger than what his words denote and a literal interpretation misses the mark.

The website Catholic Answers does an excellent job of giving one apologetic interpretation of the passage and defense of Catholic tradition on this point. (Click HERE to read).

What I want to pull out from this section of Matthew is the juxtaposition of the line "you are all brothers [and sisters]" (Matt 23:8b) with the line "All their works are performed to be seen" (Matt 23:5). This contrast helps the reader realize that Matthew 23: 1-12 is not about titles in and of themselves, but about the danger of clericalism and hypocrisy in professional religious life. The use of special clothing and titles for clergy--whether the Roman collar or habits and veils, along with titles like "Father" or "Mother", "Sister" or "Brother" (not to mention "Your Holiness", "Your Excellency", and "Your Grace"); or the nice suit and tie and titles like "Pastor", "Elder", "Brother" (as used by Protestants)--create the potential that the common brotherhood and sisterhood of Christians is destroyed by a system of deciding who is more important--who is to be shown greater honor. In contrast, Jesus says, "The greatest among you must be your servant. Whoever exalts himself will be humbled; but whoever humbles himself will be exalted" (Matt 23:11-12). This is the key to reading all of the other verses of this section. Jesus is saying that true leadership in the Christian way is always rooted in humble service. If we think he is only talking about titles, then we allow ourselves to miss the many ways, besides titles, that we have of puffing ourselves up and lording our faith over others.

While the reading from Malachi 1:14b-2:2b, 8-10 is a parallel condemnation of sinful clergy, the second reading from 1 Thessalonians 2:7b-9, 13 is the confession of a hard-working, holy man dedicated to the mission. Indeed, it seems Saint Paul could have had the gospel passage from Luke in mind, because he denies having any of the faults that we hear Jesus condemning today. Instead, he describes himself with the words: "we were gentle among you as a nursing mother cares for her children" (v.7b)--an interesting use of feminine imagery to describe Apostolic ministry. This passage clearly highlights Saint Paul's indefatigable preaching and laboring on behalf of the Gospel and the people. His orientation is completely on the good of the people, a result of his deep prayer relationship with God. It would seem to me that Jesus would have been well-pleased with Saint Paul.

Let us sit with these readings today and ponder which image we are most like most of the time--the greedy, snobbish, selfish clergy in Malachi and Luke, or the hard-working, giving, prayerful servant of God in 1 Thessalonians--and ask God the Holy Spirit for the virtues we need to rid our lives of hypocrisy so that we too would show the solicitude and gentleness of a nursing mother for her children to all in need.
Br. Paul, OP

Afterthought:
For those of my readers who wear habits and have religious titles, you know the other side of the story--how these things can actually help ministry by making it clear that we religious, priests, and deacons belong to the people we serve. A habit, for example, sets a person apart in a crowd, but not merely to stand out, but to announce to the others that they can approach that habited person for help, for conversation, and for brotherly or sisterly love.

Our Jewish Brothers and Sisters

2011-10-29T00:00:00.000-04:00

Great Synagogue of Rome

"The gifts and the call of God are irrevocable," (Romans 11:29b). The first reading from Romans today, a rather abridged version of chapter eleven, has a clear message: The Jewish people have been and always will be the people of God. No matter what their relation to Jesus as Messiah and to his followers seem to be, Saint Paul the Apostle insists that God has a plan for them and has not and will not abandon them. He writes this as a Christian Jew long before it became easy for both Jews and Christians to think of their theologies and identities as being mutually exclusive. They are not; but even if we disagree on that, it is undeniable that we, as fellow believers in the God of Abraham and Sarah, are related in a special way. Our stories are intertwined and will not be separated.

Unfortunately, supercessionism (the belief that Christianity is superior to Judaism) has polluted the minds of Christians, leading them to behave disrespectfully and sometimes cruelly toward Jews and others. So much so, the followers of Christ (a Jewish man himself who taught "love your neighbors as yourself" and "do unto others as you would have them do unto you") have often restricted the liberties of their Jewish neighbors, relegating them to ghettos, expelling them from their countries, or seeking to outright exterminate them. Christian history, read one way, is a scandalous litany of violations of basic human rights, rooted in the idea that the Gospel gave the Church the right to police the world--it did not. The Gospel gave the Church only one task: to proclaim to all nations that Jesus is the Messiah; to tell the story of salvation and to teach men and women the path to God. The Gospel recognizes the right of all people to make up their own minds to accept or reject it (Luke 9:54-55). In no way does it give any Christian the right to harm another person because he or she rejects the Gospel, rather it recognizes that judgement in such cases belongs to God alone (Matt 10:12-15).

I say this, because today's gospel reading, Luke 14:1, 7-11, can be read as a parable about the topic of supercessionism. The Christian in a crowd of non-Christians--or the Catholic in a room mixed with Protestants, Orthodox, and other Christians--believes he should have the seat of honor next to God. He alone, after all, worships God correctly. But such an attitude reveals he has understood little of what God has said. He has, perhaps, spent so much time cultivating his identity as Christian that he has neglected the most important teachings of Christianity. Not surprisingly, he is asked to go lower and make room for another. His replacement is probably a Jew, a Muslim, a Buddhist, maybe a righteous Atheist, "even" a Mormon. Or maybe the chair remains empty, since none of these groups seems able to get it right either.

We are advised by Jesus to "take the lowest place" (Luke 14:9). This means that Christians have got to rid themselves of any and all traces of arrogance related to "orthodoxy". The dignity of a Christian comes not from saying "I believe", but from living out the example set by the Messiah (Matt 21:28-32). Your belief or your "being saved" means nothing to me, after all, if you use it to judge me, imprison me, or kill me. Your love, however, can heal me, teach me, and bring me to salvation.

Pope Benedict, in the address he delivered during a visit to the Great Synagogue of Rome, spoke about Jewish-Christian relations and identified the central problem when he said, "Christians and Jews share to a great extent a common spiritual patrimony, they pray to the same Lord, they have the same roots, and yet they often remain unknown to each other." (Click Here to read complete text.) This same problem of ignorance of one's neighbor divides Christians from other groups as well, including groups of other Christians. We do not know each other. I wonder if we're afraid that if we ventured into the other's camp we will like what we find so much, it would lead us to convert. This reminds me of the response of the soldiers to the beauty of Judith. They say, "Who can despise this people that has such women among them? It is not wise to leave one man of them alive, for if any were to be spared they could beguile the whole world!" (Judith 10:19).

What ought we to do, then? Visit the Bahai temple down the street? Go listen to the Gospel music at the Baptist Church, take in a sermon at the Mosque on Friday, or study Torah with the Jews on Saturday? One wonders how I could recommend these things to my fellow Catholics when I see such a culture of intolerance within my own Catholic community. If Catholics cannot respect other Catholics, how can we hope to be a people of interfaith and ecumenical dialogue as the Holy Spirit, through the Second Vatican Council, called us to be?

As always, the first step is to exhort one another to love each other--the first step of which is to stop doing to others what we would not want done to ourselves. But for the few who are brave and secure, let them venture into foreign camps to be beguiled and to beguile--not with words that mean little, but with open hearts that reveal most potently that God actually exists and is beautiful.
Br. Paul, OP

Loving God for God's Sake Alone

2011-10-27T00:00:00.001-04:00

"Praise to God"

by Anna Laetitia Barbauld (1743-1825)

(A reworking of Habakkuk 3:2-19)

"Praise to God, immortal praise,

For the love that crowns our days;

Bounteous source of every joy,

Let thy praise our tongues employ.

For the blessings of the field,

For the stores the gardens yield,

For the vine's exalted juice,

For the generous olive's use.

Flocks that whiten all the plain,

Yellow sheaves of ripened grain;

Clouds that drop their fattening dews

Suns that temperate warmth diffuse.

All that spring, with bouteous hand,

Scatters o'er the smiling land;

All that liberal autumn pours

From her rich o'erflowing stores.

These to thee, my God, we owe,

Source whence all our blessings flow;

And for these my soul shall raise

Grateful vows and solemn praise.

Yet should the rising whirlwinds tear

From its stem the ripening ear;

Should the fig-tree's blasted shoot

Drop her green untimely fruit;

Should the vine put forth no more,

Nor the olive yield her store;

Though the sickening flocks should fall,

and the herds desert the stall;

Should thine altered hand restrain

The early and the latter rain,

Blast each opening bud of joy,

And the rising year destroy,--

Yet to thee my soul shall raise

Grateful vows and solemn praise;

And when every blessing's flown,

Love thee for thyself alone."

Standing in God's Way

2011-10-27T00:00:00.000-04:00

Click HERE to read today's scripture

"For I am convinced

that neither death,

nor life,

nor angels,

nor principalities,

nor present things,

nor future things,

nor powers,

nor height,

nor depth,

nor any other creature,

will be able to separate us

from the love of God

in Christ Jesus our Lord."

(Romans 8:38-39)

Continuing the thoughts of yesterday, today's message from St. Paul in Romans 8 soars to the happy heights of one inebriated by faith. The one obstacle that he does not list here is the one that does have the power to separate us from the love of God, and that is ourselves. Our lack of faith, our inconstancy, our weak prayer, our indifference, our sinfulness, our ignorance...us. We are weaker than death and life, angels and principalities, present and future things, powers and heights and depths, and most other creatures, but we humans are strong in the ways of running from God's love. As Jesus says in the gospel for today, "How I yearned to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, but you were unwilling!" (Luke 13:34b).

So we might ask ourselves, with St. Paul, "What will separate us from the love of Christ?", but instead of making a list of outside forces, without worrying about anyone else, we might list the things within ourselves that do separate us from God. And then, in humble submission, ask Jesus to help us be rid of these obstacles, letting him hold us in his arms until we are able to bear his love and give love in return.
Br. Paul, OP

Lord, Will Only A Few Be Saved? Divine Mercy & Human Indifference

2011-10-26T00:10:00.001-04:00

Click HERE to read the Scriptures

On Monday evening, my Teaching Literature classmates and I studied the following poem by British poet Stevie Smith. It's a good juxtaposition to the gospel reading for today, Luke 13:22-30, but more on that after the poem.

The New Age

Shall I tell you the signs of a New Age coming?
It is a sound of drubbing and sobbing
Of people crying, We are old, we are old
And the sun is going down and becoming cold
Oh sinful and sad and the last of our kind
If we turn to God now do you think He will mind?
Then they fall on their knees and begin to whine
That the state of Art itself presages decline
As if Art has anything or ever had
To do with civilization whether good or bad.
Art is wild as a cat and quite separate from civilization
But that is another matter that is not now under consideration.
Oh these people are fools with their sighing and sinning
Why should Man be at an end? he is hardly beginning.
This New Age will slip in under cover of their cries
And be upon them before they have opened their eyes.
Well, say geological time is a one-foot rule
Then Man's only been here about half an inch to play the fool
Or be wise if he likes, as he often has been
Oh heavens how these crying people spoil the beautiful
geological scene.

The question of the Divine Judgement is a key question for those who believe in the immortality of the soul. It was certainly on the mind of the man or woman in the crowd who asked Jesus, "Lord, will only a few people be saved?" (Luke 13:23). It is on the minds of those Christians caught up in the flurry of end of the world predictions (despite Jesus's commands not to listen to these false teachers). There is a sense that concern for the end of the world, the final judgement, gives meaning to the moments we have now. Unlike the speaker in Smith's poem above, the people he or she is making fun of get that thinking of humanity's end does not make you a fool, it makes you wise. The "sighing", "whining" show we understand that there is a deeper purpose and order to things, and our frame of reference does not merely begin with ourselves or our planet's cycles, but with the Author of All. Our lives achieve true beauty only when they are in line with the will of God. If most people were honest, they would realize that they are not in line with God, and that realization is a sad or frightening discovery, perhaps mostly frustrating or mysterious.

I remember when I was hospital chaplain a little over a year ago in Albuquerque, a patient I was visiting for the first time was upset and worried about this very topic--not for himself, but for everyone. He believed only a few would be saved. I chose to respond to his concerns by talking about the message of Divine Mercy--the promises made by Jesus to St. Maria Faustina--but later, I reflected on what I had said, and today's gospel came to mind. Jesus himself declares: "Strive to enter through the narrow gate, for many, I tell you, will attempt to enter but will not be strong enough. After the master of the house has arisen and locked the door, then will you stand outside knocking and saying, 'Lord, open the door for us.' He will say to you in reply, 'I do not know where you are from.'" (Luke 13:24-25). Dreadful words. They indicate that the ultimate goal of eternal life with God is not easily obtained, even by those who "ate and drank" with the master, and seemingly belonged to group of believers. It seemed to me then that perhaps I was wrong to emphasize Divine Mercy, as if all the worry about sin would ultimately be a waste, since God was just going to decide to be merciful.

It hit me, now, that view I had was an oversimplification of the Divine Mercy message. A specific line from St. Maria Faustina's diary illustrates the point: "I desire that priests proclaim this great mercy of Mine towards souls of sinners. Let the sinner not be afraid to approach Me. The flames of mercy are burning Me--clamoring to be spent; I want to pour them out upon these souls...Distrust on the part of souls is tearing at My insides. The distrust of a chosen soul causes Me even greater pain; despite My inexhaustible love for them they do not trust Me. Even My death is not enough for them. Woe to the soul that abuses theses gifts" (Paragraph 50, Notebook I, 22 Feb 1931). It isn't that Jesus does not want to have mercy on sinners, rather it is that unlike the questioner in the crowd from the gospel, or the patient in the hospital bed, or the mourners in the poem above, most people are not interested, even Christians who should be.

What an odd thing, because, as St. Paul says in yesterday's reading from Romans, "Creation awaits with eager expectation the revelation of the children of God...that creation itself would be set free from slavery to corruption and share in the glorious freedom of the children of God. We know that all creation is groaning in labor pains even until now; and not only that, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, we also groan within ourselves as we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies" (Rom. 8:19, 21-23). He goes on to say that we Christians are a people of hope; that is, a people focused on what we cannot see and what we believe is coming. We're precisely the people concerned with salvation, judgement, the end of the world, but on a larger scale than just our own happiness. As St. Paul shows, a Christian is a part of the whole created world, and as last part of Jesus's answer to the question implies, this project of salvation involves all people.

For a global community to think as does the speaker of Smith's poem would be naive. It may alleviate for a time that nagging worry called the human conscience, but it would not succeed in silencing it altogether. Our very purpose as humans is to, in slag terms, "give a damn" about what it all means, in relation to God, to the planet, to each other, and to ourselves. And we have our awareness of our mortality, our fragility and preciousness--not simply Christian eschatology--to thank for giving the question such urgency.

"Lord, will only a few be saved?" That's a good beginning question. If it is overwhelming, take time to sit with Romans 8:26-30, which teaches us that the Holy Spirit is with us to help us. Salvation is God's work from beginning to end.
Br. Paul, OP

The Kingdom of God is like...[A Taoist Version?]

2011-10-25T00:35:00.000-04:00

Compare today's Gospel reading (Luke 13:18-21), with its rather abstract metaphors for the Kingdom of God, to the following passage from the Tao Te Ching.

If a country is governed wisely,

its inhabitants will be content.

They enjoy the labor of their hands

and don't waste time inventing

labor-saving machines.

Since they dearly love their homes,

they aren't interested in travel.

There may be a few wagons and boats,

but these don't go anywhere.

There may be an arsenal of weapons,

but nobody ever uses them.

People enjoy their food,

take pleasure in being with their families,

spend weekends working in their gardens,

delight in the doings of the neighborhood.

And even though the next country is so close

that people can hear its roosters crowing

and its dogs barking,

they are content to die of old age

without ever having gone to see it.

(Saying 80)

The Law of God vs. The Law of Sin: The Confession of St. Paul

2011-10-21T12:20:00.003-04:00

Rembrandt's St. Paul

"For I know that good does not dwell in me,

that is, in my flesh.

The willing is ready at hand,

but the doing the good is not.

For I do not do the good I want,

but I do the evil I do not want.

Now if I do what I do not want,

it is no longer I who do it,

but sin that dwells in me.

So, then, I discover the principle

that when I want to do right,

evil is at hand."

(Romans 7:18-21)

I think that next to his hymn on love (1 Cor. 13), this passage from Romans, along with the verses that follow it, completing chapter seven, are some of the most moving words St. Paul ever composed, and some of the most important in all of scripture. The lectionary has the reading end at verse 25a, but 25b is equally important, though it's a low note: "Therefore, I myself, with my mind, serve the law of God but, with my flesh, the law of sin." This line is the summary of what came before, and it's an astounding confession to hear from the great apostle.

This confession could not come at a better time, liturgically. All week Jesus and Paul have been given us a hard time, challenging us to practice what we say we believe. In today's gospel reading (Luke 12:54-59), we are told to read the signs of the times and to "judge for [our]selves what is right" (v.57). There is a great pressure to just choose to be good, as if it were that simple.

I know even my recent postings have made it seem as if I believed if were that simple. But it isn't. We all know it isn't. Despite the grace of God that comes through the sacraments, the scripture, the Christian community, the gift of the Holy Spirit, the intercession of Jesus the one mediator between God and humanity, we still find ourselves overwhelmed with the inability to always do what we know we ought to do, even if we seem to want it.

St. Paul does not pose the question I am about to, but I think the situation seems to beg it. Did the Christ event, as his life, death, resurrection, and ascension are called, really change anything? If, indeed, the flesh still serves "the law of sin", what is different? After all, St. John writes in his first letter "no one who remains in him sins; no one who sins has seen him or known him" (3:6). He further says, "In this way, the children of God and the children of the devil are made plain; no one who fails to act in righteousness belongs to God..." (3:10). By this measurement, it would seem that St. Paul was a child of the devil...and me...and most, if not all, of the people I know.

But we know that St. John was preaching through his letter, knowing that his audience of Christians were struggling in just the way that St. Paul was, and he wanted to impress upon them the importance of resisting sin. His exaggerated claims serve to create a sense of absoluteness about his instruction. Perhaps that method would scare some of his congregation into righteousness, in either the good or bad sense that that can happen. "The fear of God is the beginning of knowledge" (Prov. 1:7), after all. And next to that is the hatred of sin, which is what St. Paul and St. John are both talking about. It is only when we confess our sins and learn to hate them (not ourselves) that we begin to understand ourselves and what is actually for our own good and what contributes most fully to our happiness. We can begin to choose wisely, like a son or daughter of God ought to choose.

Something did really happen with the Jesus event, but it was not an easy fix or a reset button. We Christians struggle with living out our faith--loving our God and neighbor--as much as our non-Christian neighbors do, and yet, if you talk to faithful Christians, they will tell you about experiences of grace and healing that make it clear something is really at work in their lives. Someone, I should say: The Holy Spirit, who is guiding them each day closer to the Father. The graces given by the Spirit strengthen us and make us new creatures.

Although I am a sinner still, and do the things I do not want to do from time to time, I am not the same person I was before my baptism, confirmation, or religious profession. I may not be able to articulate it fully, but I believe from what I have experienced in my own life, that Jesus did conquer sin and death, and that his victory is the final word on the subject. And sinners, though we Christians all may be, we are joined to Christ, and so participate in his victory. "Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord" (Rom 7:25a).
Br. Paul, OP

The Vigilant and Faithful Servant

2011-10-19T14:59:00.000-04:00

Click HERE to read today's scripture.

"That servant who knew his master's will

but did not make preparations

nor act in accord with his will

shall be beaten severely;

and the servant who was ignorant

of his master's will

but acted in a way deserving of a severe beating

will be beaten only lightly."

(Luke 12:47-48)

The image of happy-go-lucky Jesus is replaced in today's Gospel by the rather harsh and demanding rabbi who wants to impress upon his audience the importance of living a holy life. In this particular case, as in the Parable of the Rich Fool, there is an urgency to our actions that Jesus roots in the image of the returning master--a metaphor for "the end", be it one's death or the return of the Messiah. This end marks the conclusion to the time when one was at liberty to make decisions for oneself. Indeed, the parable compares the gift of free will to the duration of time a servant has to him or herself while the master is away. What is done during the period of freedom reveals the servant's true character. For the Jew or Christian, it tests the level of authentic integration of the Word of God into one's way of life. For those Jews or Christians who have not fully integrated God's Word into their way of living, the consequence will be severe--more severe than for others who committed the same mistakes, but who did not have God's Word to guide them. This is only just, because the Jews and Christians should have known better. To know what God wants of you and to do the opposite is a double sin.

In the reading from St. Paul's letter to the Romans, the same level of urgency is notable. He says, "For sin is not to have power over you, since you are not under the law but under grace," (Romans 6:14). Using the imagery of weapons (war) and slavery (to either evil or righteousness), Paul, like our morality coach, urges us not to continue to live in sin, now that we have heard the Gospel. To do so is an embarrassment to the Church. What good is the Gospel if Christians live like everyone else? If they are just as morally lazy as unbelievers, or even more evil than unbelievers? In such a way, our immoral lives can be a preaching against the Gospel.

As excited as people get over the topic of Faith or Works, it is clear that both Jesus and Paul believed works--that is, living according to one's faith--was essential. To fail to do so only proves detrimental to one's soul, meriting punishment. Important in all of this is not to focus merely on "acts", but on "character". The moral servant who is prepared for his master's return has a radically different character than the wicked servant who abuses his freedom. It is not just that they do not behave alike, it is that they see the world in radically different ways. They value different things. They love differently. The key to moral living is doing all things in reference to God.

How might our values, our loves be hindering our preparations for the master's return today?
Br. Paul Byrd, OP

Parable of the Rich Fool

2011-10-17T00:00:00.000-04:00

Rembrandt's The Rich Fool

In today's gospel (click HERE to read), a man commands that Jesus tell his brother to share his inheritance, which reminds me of the story of Jesus's visit to the home of Martha and Mary when Martha asks Jesus to order Mary to help her. At first, these requests seem reasonable. It looks rather unfair of Mary to leave Martha to do all of the hostess work, and it may have been unfair of the brother who had the inheritance not to share it with the brother who did not.

Jesus, who can read people, and who does not need to infer from appearances, reacts in both cases by refusing to do what was requested. It is not often that we see him refusing to help a person. If it is surprising with the random, unidentified man in the crowd, it is even more so with Martha, his friend. Except when we realize that Jesus understood that something more was going on. With Martha, of course, it was her preoccupation with worries, her busyness. In the case of the man from Luke 12:13-15, it is his greed, something we could not know without further clues.

Jesus then uses the moment to teach the crowd, and tells the Parable of the Rich Fool--a parable that Christians who buy into the so-called Prosperity Gospel need to take to heart. In the story, a man finds that his harvest is so large that he does not have enough room to store it all. His solution is to tear down his old barns and build larger ones. Then he intends to enjoy the fruits of his labor.

On the surface, many Christians might not see the problem. There is nothing in the parable that indicates the man gained his wealth in bad ways. And if he worked hard for it, what could be wrong with prudently storing it away and later enjoying it and taking a rest? Something must have been very wrong, for God calls the man a fool. He then predicts the man's death, and that the wealth will fall into the hands of others. [It's a similar plot to Dickens' A Christmas Carol.]

The moral of the story gives us a clue to its meaning. Jesus says, "Thus will it be for the one who stores up treasure for himself but is not rich in what matters to God," (Luke 12:15). The man was so preoccupied with wealth, success, and comfort that he neglected to learn what the purpose of his life was from God's point of view, and so all his hard work was a waste of time.

We are called today to ponder "what matters to God". A good beginning place for that would be to take another look at Jesus's first preaching in Nazareth where he quotes Isaiah, saying, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring glad tidings to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind, and to let the oppressed go free," (Luke 4:18). Another good place would be to meditate on the life of Abraham, who is held up in the first reading from St. Paul's letter to the Romans as a model for us. He, unlike the Rich Fool, placed all of his hopes in God, and he was not disappointed.
Br. Paul, OP

Render unto God: 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time

2011-10-16T00:00:00.000-04:00

Click HERE to read Sunday's Scripture

"Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God," (Matt 22:21) is a rather clever answer, to which the men trying to trick Jesus are so amazed, they just go away. It is a funny, and well-told fragment story, short, simple, and a great way of highlighting Jesus' savvy. His response also leaves room for discussion on what exactly is due both to God and to Caesar (one's government)--always an important question for religious people living in pluralistic society. It was definitely an important question for the Jews of the 1st Century of the Common Era, as the power of a foreign empire continued to encroach on their religious liberties.

But what struck me when I read this passage again were the four points that are made by the man questioning Jesus. His sincerity is certainly dubious, but what he says to flatter Jesus reflects the reputation that Jesus had in his own day, and so is good material for meditation.

First, the man calls him Rabbi, a mark of respect to Jesus as a recognized teacher, and then adds: "We know that you are a truthful man." Readers of the story may take this for granted, but having a reputation for telling the truth is an important characterization element. When you read scripture, it is obvious that many people--both the heroes and the villains--struggle to tell the truth. So much of "getting by" in life seems to be rooted in lying, but Jesus remained free from that vice.

Second, the man continues with "And that you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth." So not only is Jesus honest about ordinary things related to himself, he is reputed to be a man who instructs others well on morality. Again, not all members of religions are good about this. Some Catholics, for example, opening contradict Church teaching, leading fellow Catholics who know them (their friends, spouses, children, students, or parishioners, etc.) to be confused or misguided by them.

Third, "You are not concerned with anyone's opinion." Jesus seems a rather independent character, in contrast to others who may have been consumed with concern for other people's opinions. It must have been apparent to others that Jesus had a level of self-confidence and a sense of authority--a trait that echoes throughout the gospels, all the way up to the Passion narrative when he stands before Pilate and Herod. Needless to say, society trains us to be concerned with other people's opinions. Parent's punish or reward us, schools grade us, jobs evaluate us, churches watch us, and friends take or leave us. Even strangers don't mind presuming that we should care about their opinions of us. Things were no different in Jesus's day, yet he refused to buy into the negative influence of others.

And fourth, "For you do not regard a person's status." Related to the third, this trait indicates that Jesus was known for treating everyone equally, from Pharisee to tax collector to prostitute to his own mother and siblings. Everyone encountered the same Jesus. Again, very different from even our own Church culture that has a whole system of granting greater or lesser importance to people based on positions within the Church, from the pope and cardinals in Rome, to the local bishops, then the priests, religious, and deacons, the wealthy lay people, then the "regular" folk, then the poor with problems. The same kinds of hierarchies impact general social interactions, based on wealth, profession, education, relationship to legal power, public fame, talent, and physical appearance.

St. John wrote, "Whoever claims to abide in him ought to live just as he lived," (1 John 2:6), so what might these four traits of Jesus inspire in his followers today? We who are called to imitate Jesus, are we honest in all respects and known to be trustworthy? Do we teach people correctly the way of God as the Church has handed on, or do we teach our own way? Are we so concerned with other people that we behave differently to please them, violating our own values and beliefs? And do we treat others with greater attentiveness and love or respect because they have a particular office? If yes--then we are called to change our ways today, shaking off anything that is not a truthful reflection of who we are and are called to be as Catholics striving to imitate Jesus the Messiah. Only then can we really claim to be rendering unto God what belongs to God.

Br. Paul, OP

You are worth more than many sparrows

2011-10-14T06:00:00.000-04:00

Click Here to read today's scripture readings

Jesus gives us an insight into God the Creator's perspective on our world today in Luke 12:6-7. He says that God notices the little sparrows: "not one of them has escaped the notice of God"--an extraordinary claim, especially in contrast to the image just before of five sparrows being sold for two small coins--proof that humans see them as insignificant. What a contrast between the values of God the Creator and human beings.

Jesus then says that, given God's attention to these little creatures, how much greater is his attention to each human person. "Even the hairs on your head have all been counted." He's not talking about the hair of kings, popes, or celebrities only--he's talking about your hair and mine (what's left of it). Then he says, "Do not be afraid," that characteristic motto of his. He knew that so many of the people that he came in to contact with were fearful. In this case, fearful that God did not love them. He declares, "You are worth more than many sparrows." I doubt we humans, so desensitized to the value of everything around us and ourselves, can really grasp what the Messiah is saying here--but it's none other than the rationale for the coming Passion of Jesus. God loves you so much--yes, you--that he would pay the ransom for your offenses against him.

Our challenge for today is to spend some time sitting with and enjoying the knowledge that God loves us and that he is keeping a loving eye on us.
Br. Paul, OP

Woe to You, Torah Experts!

2011-10-13T06:00:00.000-04:00

Jesus and the Pharisees by Gustave Doré

In today's gospel portion, (Luke 11:47-54) the image of Jesus is not a depiction of the kinder and gentler Jesus so popular in religious artwork. No, it's the image of an angry Jesus, listing condemnations to a crowd of Torah experts after having just finished telling off some misguided Pharisees.

What is at stake here is very important, and may be summarized by Jesus' last accusation to them: "Woe to you, scholars of the Torah! You have taken away the key of knowledge. You yourselves did not enter and you stopped those trying to enter," (Luke 11:52). Nothing gets the Messiah King and Shepherd of his people more angry than religious people who say and do things to keep others from God. Making rules impossible to keep, making people feel guilty without helping them to be healed and reconciled, and silencing the voices of the opposition (in this case, the prophets), these actions obstruct the very purpose of the Holy Torah, which was to clear the way for communion between God and humanity.

--St. Paul makes this very clear in the first reading, (Rom. 3:21-30), where he unequivocally declares: "All have sinned and are deprived of the glory of God. They are justified freely by his grace through the redemption in Christ Jesus..." In other words, the moral score card is the same for all of us, and God's gifts of mercy and forgiveness are offered to all. No one, therefore, should obstruct this saving work, rather they should lend a hand to those in need of help. He further says that no one ought to boast, a further indication that the temptation for religious people is two fold: 1) to believe that God loves them because of something they did, and 2) because they do good things like study scripture, follow the customs, that they somehow have possession of God--that they are experts not just on scripture and tradition, but on God godself, and therefore have a special right to tell other people what to do, all the while wanting to keep this supposed special place next to God for themselves and other people at a distance.

These readings are challenging to Christians--particularly ministers (lay or ordained)--who may be careless in the way they advise those who come to them for help. It is not the job of any Christian to burden a soul with either guilt or undue penance, rather, it is the Christian's job to help his or her neighbors carry their burdens until they may be left off altogether and freedom is restored. Tough love and hard advice are sometimes necessary, but to these must be added the reassurance of fraternal or sororal support. Above all, we must remember that no one saves his or her own soul, rather God saves us freely through Jesus Christ, so none of us has the right to boast. May the knowledge of it turn our hearts again in wonderment to our compassionate and patient Lord and unite us to our neighbors.

Br. Paul, OP

Saint Clarissa Harlowe

2011-10-12T07:00:00.000-04:00

Clarissa with Sean Bean and Saskia Wickham

Samuel Richard’sClarissa is one of those 18^th Century novels that weigh aboutfive pounds and intimidate even the most determined of English majors. Thuswhen I was at my local public library and spotted a film adaptation of thenovel, I had no scruples in checking it out and making it my literary meditationfor the past few days.

The story has all thetypical tropes: a saintly heroine, an unscrupulous but handsome villain, and aplot that keeps one on the edge, although there is just one simple dramaticquestion: Will or will not Mr. Lovelace succeed in his plans of seducing or, ifthat does not work, raping Clarissa Harlowe?

I loved this story,because it was able to make me so angry. The behavior of everyone, includingClarissa, drove me wild. Clarissa's family is hideously cruel to her. Her relativestry to manipulate her into doing what they want (Clarissa to make a materially advantageous marriage to an odious man) by using Clarissa's impeccablemorality against her, arguing she owes it to her family to obey themabsolutely, sacrificing her own happiness for theirs. Clarissa,however, wisely understands that she also has a duty to herself, and that moralobedience to one's parents does not give them license to force you todo something that is repugnant to your own happiness. First in this cast offamilial villains is Clarissa's brother James. What a delightful characterto loathe! So sanctimonious, hypocritical, coldhearted, and yet craven andweak.

It is Mr. Lovelace,however, who is Clarissa's greatest enemy. He's a young man with absolutely norespect for women, who is known for his sexual exploits. He seeks to tormentand conquer Clarissa, but it is she who ultimately torments him. Her genuinepiety, her frankness, and her modesty confront Lovelace's baser, animalistic,irrational, violent, and false behavior.

Indeed, Clarissa standsout--as she was intended to do--as a model of Christian virtue. Like Susanna inthe Book of Daniel, she faces a trap designed to ruin her good name. The wordsof Susanna could easily have been Clarissa's, "I am completely trapped. IfI yield, it will be my death; if I refuse, I cannot escape your power. Yet itis better for me to fall into your power without guilt than to sin before theLord" (Daniel 13:22-23). Indeed, to give in would be to become the verything one resists, neither Susanna nor Clarissa would stoop so low as toforfeit their eternal souls in such a manner. In so doing, they keep the advicethat Jesus gives to us when he says, "Do not be afraid of those who killthe body but after that can do no more. I shall show you whom to fear. Beafraid of the one who after killing has the power to cast into Gehenna,"(Luke 12:4-5).

This movie made anexcellent meditation for this week, as the readings from Romans and Luke forthe daily Masses all relate to the problem of hypocrisy. Stories like Clarissaexpose not only the hypocrisy of obvious villains like Lovelace, but also thosethat actually consider themselves to be good Christians, like the Harlowefamily. The Comedy of Manners novels of Richardson, Fielding, Austen, andothers do this so effectively by contrasting the public lives of thecharacters with their inner, secret motivations. So often, people will violate morality if they think no one is lookingor will ever find out, but what we think and do in our private moments isprecisely the test of our personal morality. If we only believe that all would be exposed someday, we would all tremblewith shame at our double dealings. And why should we not believe it will be so, when it is written,"There is nothing concealed that will not be revealed, nor secret thatwill not be known," (Luke 12:2). Therefore, let the saintly Clarissa Harlowe be ourmodel, and resist sin with all our might, praying God to help us.

Br. Paul Byrd, OP

(I obviously highlyrecommend this film and the novel it is based on.)

The Phantom Rickshaw or The Jerk Gets Punished

2011-10-04T11:14:00.007-04:00

The stylish gentleman pictured on the left is famed author, Rudyard Kipling. Yesterday evening, my Teaching Literature class discussed a lesser known work by Kipling, a short story entitled "The Phantom 'Rickshaw". For those who do not know, a 'rickshaw is a human pulled or carried carriage.

The story, like so many others in the English language tradition that incorporate the supernatural (think Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray, Dickens' A Christmas Carol, or Poe's "The Tell Tale Heart"), the ghostly apparition in this story serves as a moral challenge to the immoral main character Jack Pansay, an English officer serving in India. Pansay had an affair with a married woman, and when the thrill of the romance ends for him, he casts off the woman, and eventually grows to hate her. The woman, Mrs. Keith Wessington, is tenacious, however, and tries to regain Jack's friendship. Unmoved, Jack falls in love with another woman, a young, unmarried girl named Kitty, and Mrs. Wessington dies brokenhearted and forgotten.

The last image that Jack has of Mrs. Wessington is vividly told. Jack says: "The scene and its surroundings were photographed on my memory. The rain-swept sky (we were at the end of the wet weather), the sodden, dingy pines, the muddy road, and the black powder riven cliffs formed a gloomy background against which the black and white liveries of the jhampanies [the men who carried the rickshaw carriage], the yellow-paneled 'rickshaw and Mrs. Wessington's down-bowed golden head stood out clearly. She was holding her handkerchief in her left hand and was leaning back exhausted against the 'rickshaw cushions. I turned my horse up a bypath near the Sanjowlie Reservoir and literally ran away. Once I fancied I heard a faint call of 'Jack!' This may have been imagination. I never stopped to verify it. Ten minutes later, I came across Kitty on horseback; and in the delight of a long ride with her, forgot all about the interview."

The question of the veracity of what then follows, the subsequent appearances to Jack of Mrs. Wessington in her 'rickshaw, is disputable. Is Jack actually seeing an ghost, or is he having a nervous breakdown? Either way, Jack interprets the other-worldly visitation as a punishment for his treatment of poor Mrs. Wessington. Even so, his pride and selfishness persist, and he says, "My only anxiety was to get the penance over as quietly as might be," a line that reminds me of Ebeneezer Scrooge. Like Scrooge, however, Jack is finally moved to realize his crime, and the story ends with his confession of wrong.

The story is an interesting handling of the question of morality--meaning, the way that we consciously construct our behavior. On the surface, there is the central moral problem of adultery--but the real central moral problem at the heart of things is the selfishness of the main character, a selfishness that allows him to see other people as useful or expendable. Consequently, Jack is a jerk, through and through, and readers of the story are asked to consider if they, too, are jerks.

Not a lot of preaching or teaching in Christian circles is directed to that question, but really morality has everything to do with asking yourself if you are a jerk. Are you racist, sexist/misogynistic, homophobic? Are you crass in your language, rude, vulgar, or generally verbally abusive? Are you more concerned with your own happiness than with the happiness of the community? Do you seek to gain and never to give, or use your wealth and power to control others? Do you, in short, withhold your love? If "yes", you're a jerk and not a good person/Christian. That seems to be the moral of this and like stories. It's a lesson Dorian Gray, Ebeneezer Scrooge, Jack Pansay, as well as characters from other stories like the Malfoys and the Dursleys of the Harry Potter series and Jane Eyre's rich relatives, the Reeds, (just to name a few) needed to hear, and its a strong challenge that many people in our own lives (and maybe ourselves) need to hear from time to time.

Jack says, "I felt that it was bitterly, cruelly unfair that I alone should have been singled out for so hideous a fate." Actually, there is truth to that statement, just not not the way that Jack means it. Really, it would be interesting if God punished every jerk so obviously and strongly, the way Jack is. Wouldn't it be a better world if we all received a visitation from those we have hurt, so that we might reform--happily ever after, for Scrooge, not so happily for Jack Pansay?

Well, I think the answer to that question is complicated. While a ghostly apparition is interesting, perhaps the better tool for moral correction is social disapproval and punishment. This is represented in the story by the second lady Jack was in love with--Kitty Mannering. Unlike the weak and submissive Mrs. Wessington who endured Jack's jerk-like behavior, Kitty would not stand for it. She stood up for herself, knocked Jack down a peg or two, and made sure that the town knew what he had done wrong. If not for ourselves, then for others, we need to communally work against the prevalence of jerk-like, immoral behavior, and actively work against our own urges to be selfish, petty, and unkind.

Br. Paul, OP

Br. Raphael Christianson, O.P. Tells All

2011-08-26T13:58:00.003-04:00

We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose. (Rom 8:28)

What did the novitiate teach me? A lot about Dominican history. A lot about prayer. A lot about how to live in community without wanting to kill my brothers. But I think the single most important lesson I learned in the novitiate was trust. To trust God.

I just made a vow of obedience to God, to blessed Mary, to blessed Dominic, and to my superiors in the Order of Preachers. The vow commits me to them for two years. I don’t really know what the next two years will be like. I know I’m going to live in St. Louis at the student house. I know I’ll attend classes at our Aquinas Institute of Theology. I couldn’t tell you what classes we take. I know I’ll do some sort of ministry at some time or another. Again, I have no idea what kinds of ministries are even options. I really know very little about what lies ahead in my future. And yet I still committed myself to the Dominicans. I’m able to make this choice because I’ve learned to trust the Providence of God.

The reason I came to the novitiate in the first place was because of my trust in God. That’s what faith is, trusting that God acts in the world and in our lives. Before the novitiate, I trusted God, but I still felt the need to control my own life. The decisions I made were what dictated what happened to me. Intellectually, I trusted God, but in practice, I tried to do it on my own. The novitiate taught me it doesn’t work that way. Br. Jordan Coonen, O.P. celebrated his 50th year in the Order with us while we were in Denver. He told us a number of times, “If you are going to pray, then don’t worry. If you are going to worry, then don’t pray.”

On Wednesdays during the novitiate, I helped in a third grade class at a dual-language elementary school. I’ve never taught nor worked with kids before. This was a private school that helped primarily working class families. Many of these families were broken: kids’ parents were divorced, or they might only know one parent. Many of the families were very large, with all the adults working multiple jobs, so that the children struggled to get attention in their families. I was completely unqualified for this task. I didn't know how to manage children and I didn't know how to teach. I didn’t know how to counsel, either, but none of that mattered; I had to do it. I realized early on that I had a few different options: I could have anxiety and worry about being effective and actually helping these children, or I could trust in God and pray, doing the best I could and keeping myself open to the Holy Spirit. If there were something God needed me to say or do, it would happen, even without me knowing, if I kept myself open to Him.

A big part of the novitiate is learning to be someone bigger than yourself. One of the ways this was the most obvious for me was through wearing the Dominican habit. We often wore the habit in public, particularly to Masses, conferences, special dinners and other Catholic events in Denver. When someone sees me in my habit, they don’t think, “Oh, there’s Br. Raphael.” Instead, they’ll usually think, “Oh, there’s a Dominican.” Which means I represent the Dominicans, and really not just the Dominicans, but the whole Church. I have to be welcoming and friendly to all who approach me, no matter how I’m feeling that day. This was a difficult lesson to learn. Wherever I went, people would notice me because of my habit, and because of that, I constantly had to be vigilant about my behavior and interactions. This, in many ways, is an extension of trusting in God. By trusting in God, I open myself to His Spirit and to following the path He has prepared for me, not the path I choose for myself. I began to abandon my own selfish desires and selfish goals. By wearing the habit, I am reminded that I am no longer solely me. I am a part of a larger entity. I learned to abandon my own selfish desires for this reason as well, aligning and conforming myself to the Body of Christ, of which the Dominican Order is a part.

Sacrificing (or immolating, as I like to say) our own selfish desires and ambitions really is one of the most important elements of learning to trust God. If I know true happiness is only found by entrusting myself to God, why would I want to continue my own personal missions instead of His? One of the many ways I encountered this fact during the novitiate was simply through community itself. One of the most important elements of the Dominican vocation is that we live communally and share possessions, spaces and responsibilities. We all encounter conflicts through communal living. Not everyone gets along. One of the lessons the novitiate taught me is to examine why I dislike or am annoyed by something a brother does. I soon figured out that when I dislike something about a brother, it usually reflects something about myself that I need to work on. The reason I notice particular flaws in others is because they reflect some flaw about myself. Thus a large part of Dominican life, and especially the novitiate, is figuring out what flaws and selfish motivations I personally have, which my interactions in community help me realize. These little revelations led me to discover the particular actions, thought patterns, desires I needed to immolate for the good of God’s plan for me, and for the good of the community. I strive to achieve perfect charity, but I must hack off many of my own rough edges in order to grow in charity.

Discernment of vocation is a primary purpose of the novitiate. Consequently, many men discern out of the Dominicans during the novitiate and leave part way through the year. This can be challenging to those who remain. My class started our novitiate year with 10 novices. We finished our year with 7 professed brothers. Three men left Denver during the year. Some of the guys struggled with the vows, some with the prayer life or the fraternally focused intimacy. Each time someone left, it made me examine my own discernment and vocation. Am I willing to commit myself for the rest of my life, not to an individual, but to a large, ministry-based organization? Am I willing to submit my will to my superiors within the Order? That is a scary notion.

But I trust God. I cannot manage life on my own; I cannot find lasting happiness and peace through my own efforts; I cannot make a positive impact on the world through my own works. It is only by giving myself to God and allowing Him to direct my life, in trusting Him and His supreme Wisdom, can I actualize my potential. As St. Théodore Guérin, missionary to Indiana, said, “What does it matter what becomes of us, provided God’s work be accomplished?”

~Br. Raphael Christianson, O.P.

Read Br. Raphael's earlier reflections: Part I & Part II

Simple Profession of Vows 2011

2011-08-14T07:28:00.002-04:00

Today the Province of St. Albert the Great, USA, celebrates the simple profession of seven novice brothers: (rear from left to right) Brs. Joseph, Vincent, Isaac, Benedict, (front) Raphael, Samuel, and James Peter. They are a gifted and prayerful group of young men that the province is quite proud of, and eager to see move forward with theological and philosophical studies in St. Louis.

They will profess simple vows this evening at St. Dominic's Church in Denver, CO (the parish church just across the street from the novitiate). You may recall that in St. Albert's Province, we profess simple vows for two years, and then renew simple vows for another two years, before applying for solemn vows.

The seven newly professed brothers will then move out of the novitiate and fly to St. Louis tomorrow to begin life there at St. Dominic's Priory. I will be flying to St. Louis tomorrow, as well, and look forward to greeting these brothers. I will also be visiting the new St. Dominic's Priory, which is steadily moving toward completion.

We have six new novices taking the place of these seven. May their year in Denver be a spiritually fruitful one. We also have a new friar stepping in as novice master, as Fr. Louis Morrone, OP leaves that post to begin work as socius of the new provincial, Fr. Charles Bouchard, OP. The new novice master is Fr. Robert Keller, former pastor of St. Paul Catholic Center at Indiana University in Bloomington, IN.

Please join me in praying for these brothers and for vocations to the Dominican Order of Preachers.

God Bless,

Br. Paul, OP

Happy St. Dominic's Day!

2011-08-08T19:09:00.008-04:00

Today is a special day for the Dominican family around the world. Today we celebrate a man close to our hearts--the model of apostolic life and Christian compassion that brings us joy whenever we recall his name: St. Dominic de Guzman, preacher of God's word.

I experienced one of the finest moments of joy that I have had during my stay here in Montréal yesterday evening at Vespers--the first installment of our celebration of Dominic. It happened during a simple action most friars, nuns, and sisters perform daily--the Salve Regina procession--and yet, yesterday evening, there was a particular sweetness to it that I can only account for by relating it to the sweetness anyone might experience when he or she realizes that what one is doing, is exactly what one is called to do. You give up much to be a religious brother or sister, but there are times when God repays you with moments of consolations, which help you to press forward, and not look back.

As I have prepared for today's feast, and as I have meditated upon what St. Dominic's example means to me, the one thing that stands out in this present moment--the attribute that I need most to emmulate--is Dominic's discipline. He was a man of prayer, of study, of ministry, and of community. He was a man of penance, also. He pushed himself, and challenged himself, to live up to the vows he had professed so that his way of life as much as his words would be a preaching that could convince others to embrace the Gospel. The result was not a person rigid and uncompromising, but a man full of virtue--not least of which is patience.

This accounts for why he was a person other people liked to be around, although it is said he talked about God most of the time. Many people who like to talk about God are not very pleasant to be around, but that is because they use God as a way to have power over others. The true saint and the best preacher is one who can help you to fall in love with God. I think this must be what Dominic did.

As I reflect on this, I realize that at times I have been too conservative and too rigid in how I have spoken about God or the Church. I was eager to uphold what the Church teaches, but I was blind to how I might obstruct that teaching by speaking in a way that alienates others. I may not agree with others, but I certainly can strive to be loving toward them anyway. Extending to them the mercy I wish to receive, as well. For me, this lesson in compassion, this balance between love of the God and his Church on the one hand and the love of neighbor on the other, is what makes the life and example of St. Dominic so relevant to today.

St. Dominic, preacher of God's grace, pray for us!

Br. Paul, OP~

Brother Benedict's Short and Sweet Discernment Reflection

2011-07-30T05:48:00.003-04:00

"Excuse me, Father."

At this point, I'm used to it. Usually, if it's only the one time, I don't even bring it up. It's not a big deal, and often it wouldn't make a big difference to people if I took the time to explain it anyway. They usually just want someone to talk to or to pray for them--they won't care much that I'm not a priest.

If the conversation continues, I'll sometimes find a way of subtly introducing the topic, usually by introducing myself--"My name's Brother Benedict." If they pick up on it, fine; if not, no big deal--I've yet to be asked to hear a Confession or say a Mass.

I used to think that I wanted to be a priest, but I'm not sure I ever felt called. Taking an entire year to really discern without all the normal, worldly distractions helped me to see that I probably confused a call to religious life for a call to the priesthood. I was unsure about it when I was a Benedictine postulant. I was unsure about it when the year started. I'm sure about it now.

It isn't that I don't like the idea of the priesthood--parts of it really appeal to me, and sometime I think I do want to be a priest. Of course, sometimes I think I want to be married. Heck, sometimes I think I want to be a cloistered nun (surrounded by grandmothers? What a life). Discernment isn't about occasional feelings, though, it's about a call, and I just don't think I'm called to be a priest... or a husband or a nun.

Br. Paul wanted me to write about my discernment process--well, I thought and prayed a lot. I even talked to some people about it (like Br. Paul). That's pretty much it. There was no great, earth-shattering revelation, no voice from above (or below). I came to a decision and was at peace with it--so that's my one bit of advice: go with what brings you to peace. If you're open to God's will--and I mean, like, really open--then He's gonna point you in the right direction. It's kind of His job.

By the grace of God I have been given a call to serve His people. By His good pleasure I took my sweet time finding it out (for further details, see my long, boring previous posts). And through His infinite mercy I've been given the Dominicans to fulfill that call. And I will follow that call wherever He may lead me. If at some point the Lord should see fit to call me to the Altar, then I will joyfully follow Him there.

If not, I am content to remain simply Br. Benedict of the Order of Preachers.

Br. Benedict Romero, novice cooperator brother

*Br. Benedict is scheduled to profess simple vows on August 14th, at St. Dominic's Church in Denver, CO with his six classmates--please pray for them.

To read Br. Benedict's previous posts, CLICK HERE and HERE

New Dominican Saints

2011-07-27T12:42:00.006-04:00

It was just this past June when the Holy Father received the documents from the Congregation for the Causes of the Saints that approved a miracle through the intercession of Venerable Father Jean-Joseph Lataste, opening the way for Fr. Lataste's beatification. At the same time, the heroic virtues of Servant of God Luigia Tincani, now called Venerable, were confirmed. These two Dominicans--one a priest known for his work with prisoners, for founding a congregation of sisters, and for dedicating his life to the cause of having St. Joseph declared the patron of the Universal Church, and the other a Dominican lay woman and foundress of the Union of St. Catherine of Sienna of the Missionaries of the School--were two among many holy people moving up the ladder of the canonization process that day.

As promoter of causes for the Province of St. Albert the Great, part of my job is to pass on information about the Dominicans in the process of canonization, or who are being considered for that process (like Father Ambrose Windbacher pictured to the left above, a missionary to Nigeria from my province). In order to do that job on a wider scale, and more efficiently, I have created a new blog dedicated to Dominican saints and saints-to-be. Already, I list 15 people named Venerable, 35 Servants of God, and 36 people who are being considered for canonization. They are Dominican lay men and women, Dominican sisters, nuns, or friars, or other associates of the Order of Preachers. Many are from the past two centuries, and several are from the United States (including Puerto Rico), Canada, and Mexico.

Please visit the website today to learn more about these Causes for Joy: Dominican Saints and Saints-to-be. And please pass on the word.

Thank you,

Br. Paul, OP

A Year in Review: Br. Samuel's Novitiate Reflection

2011-07-24T07:23:00.009-04:00

One year ago, I was preparing to enter the Dominican Novitiate when I took some time out of my preparations to write about what brought me to the Dominicans. Now here I sit, a few weeks from making my first profession as a Dominican, reflecting over this past year. This year has been marked by an overarching peace—the same peace which called me to the Dominicans. It has been a year of introspection—of going within and acknowledging my strengths, as well as naming and facing my shortcomings and weaknesses. It has been a year of tremendous growth and positive change, as I continuously become the person God has called me to be. My novitiate year has been an incredible blessing and a formative experience which I am blessed to have had.

As I mentioned in my post last year, Dominican life is supported by the four pillars of prayer, community, study, and ministry. The novitiate year focuses on the first two pillars—prayer and community—building a solid foundation for the years of study and active ministry ahead. Our common prayer revolves around the chanting of the Liturgy of the Hours and daily Mass together. This schedule of morning prayer and Mass, mid-day prayer, evening prayer, and night prayer provides great opportunities to put the day’s activities on hold, enter into God’s peace and Christ’s presence, and pray together as a community. Along with communal prayer, the novitiate is a time to grow deeper in personal prayer, as well. The experience of daily Mass and frequent Confession has made me fall more deeply in love with these sacraments. I have benefited from increased time in Eucharistic Adoration, and have increased my devotion to the Rosary—a prayer near and dear to the Order of Preachers. All of this has led to a closer relationship with Christ and a general deepening of my faith.

Focus on the common life is one of the things that initially attracted me to the Dominicans. Growing up in a large and close extended family has ingrained in me a need for communal interaction and a sense of familial life. While the family in religious life looks different from the typical family unit, the sentiments are still the same. The seven of us novices, along with our novice master and the seven other Dominicans who live here in Denver (six priests and one cooperator brother) have formed a familial bond. The bond extends to the entire province—to over 170 Friars. The bond even extends further, encompassing the entire Dominican Order, including cloistered nuns, active sisters, and the Dominican Laity as well. I have joined a large and incredible family, and it has been a blessing. Here in Denver, I have learned what it truly means to live in Dominican community. We are here to support one another, to challenge one another, and to love one another. We come together as a community each day to pray, eat, and play. Dinners each night are eaten together, and are a great time of conversation and laughter. Community, of course, goes beyond our formal, planned community time. Living in a community is a full-time experience. The blessings of this communal life also come with challenges. We are all different people with different tastes, temperaments, gifts, and annoyances. Each of us brings a different person to the novitiate. All of us contribute different strengths to the community, and we each challenge the others in different ways. When I was first discerning a call to the Dominicans, a friar told me “If you’ve met one Dominican, you’ve met one Dominican.” This saying has definitely held true this year. Although we are different people, we are constantly striving to be of one heart and one mind seeking God, as our rule instructs us to do. This demands that we solve internal problems in a charitable and effective way. We are not all best friends, but we are all brothers, and must maintain the bond of brotherhood. When he was here visiting, Master of the Order Fr. Bruno Cadoré, O.P. told us, “Never forget that you all have the same best friend.” This simple yet beautiful statement helps put this communal life into perspective. Even if the only thing we share in common is our love of Christ, that alone is enough to bond us.

This year has been full of new experiences and adventures. One big new experience has been, of course, the wearing of a habit. The habit, which has been worn since our founding, is an outward sign which identifies us to the world as Dominican Friars. Wearing the habit calls us to an increased accountability which comes along with being identified with the order. We are seen as friars first, and anything that we say or do—both good and bad—can have an effect on peoples’ view of the Dominicans, which provides great opportunity for witness. Wearing the habit has inward and personal aspects, too. The habit reminds us of the vows which we profess and live. It also reminds us of our brothers and sisters in St. Dominic, and our 800-year history as an order. When I put my habit on, I am putting on the same garment that was worn by incredible men and women—St. Dominic, St. Catherine of Sienna, St. Rose of Lima, St. Thomas Aquinas, and my patron Venerable Samuel Mazzuchelli to name a few. While wearing the habit is part of being a Dominican Friar, it is not the end-all, be-all of this life. We are Dominicans whether in or out of the habit, always called to live the life we profess to live.

From the moment when I was vested in the habit on the first day of the novitiate, wearing the habit has been a very natural experience for me. Whether in the house, at ministry, or in public places in habit, I, for the most part, have felt comfortable in the thirteenth-century garment of the Dominicans. The few times when I have felt uncomfortable or awkward in habit have come at unexpected times, and the moments of awkwardness generally pass quickly. Doing ministry each week in habit, primarily teaching science and religion at a K-8 school, helped me to more fully understand and appreciate why we wear habits, and also to get used to how others react to people in habits.

A good portion of the novitiate conferences revolved around interpersonal relationships, group dynamics, and psychological analysis tools such as the Myers-Briggs and the Enneagram. Looking into myself, who I am, and why I respond the way I do, as well as how groups of people interact has been very fruitful to the common life we live. These tools have been the more tangible aspects of this year’s introspection, which contribute to the deeper, more spiritual discoveries of the introspection. I must know who I am right now in order to become who I am called to be—the fullest version of myself.

One of the highlights of the year was meeting Fr. Bruno Cadoré, O.P., the current master of the order. It is somewhat rare for novices to meet the master of the order, who is stationed in Rome. When Fr. Bruno was here, he met with us novices for most of an afternoon. He asked us two questions: what the order needed to work on in America, and what we would like to see the order and the province to do regarding ministries, missions, and vision. He took notes on what we said and was very engaging in the discussion. Fr. Bruno is an incredibly holy and humble man, and it is clear that he cares for each of his brothers. He is a fitting successor to St. Dominic, as he possesses many of the qualities which we read about St. Dominic possessing. We are blessed to have met him, and when we make profession on August 14, we will personally know the man who we profess obedience to.

Another major highlight of the year was our month-long tour of the province, during which we met many of the friars in the province and visited most of the ministry sites in which our province serves. The tour also included stops at a few Dominican motherhouses of active sisters and convents of cloistered nuns. The trip culminated in Chicago with our provincial assembly—a gathering of most of the friars of the province, during which Br. Paul Byrd, O.P. professed his solemn vows. While I was greatly looking forward to the trip and expecting it to be fun, I did not realize how much of a discernment process the trip would be. Seeing the friars in active ministry was like getting a sneak peek into what life as a Dominican will someday look like—these will be the places I will live and do ministry at. These are the brothers I will someday live with. The discernment continued at the provincial assembly, which felt like a family reunion—these are my brothers—each one different, each one bonded by fraternal charity in St. Dominic. The entire tour was an affirmation that this is where God wants me to be—in the Province of St. Albert the Great of the Order of Preachers.

This novitiate year has been very natural for me. I have felt like I fit in well in the context of this life—as if I were meant to be here. Some of the times which I anticipated would be difficult, especially not being home for the holidays, turned out to not be so bad—just different. That is not to say that this year has been a cake walk and struggle-free. I have had some times of difficulty here as I have faced times of spiritual growth. This environment has been a great one in which to work through these difficult times, though. Any true path in life is going to come with struggle and difficulties. It is what we do in these difficult times that matters.

As this year comes to an end and first profession draws near, I greatly look forward to what lies ahead. On August 14, the seven of us novices will profess the vow of obedience (under which lie the vows of poverty and chastity) for a period of two years. On August 15, we move to St. Louis, joining the other student brothers currently living there. We will begin studies at Aquinas Institute of Theology, where we will eventually complete our studies in philosophy and theology. As I continue this journey, I will seek to remain in the peace of God’s plan—the peace which brought me here, has kept me here, and which continues to guide me. The peace which surpasses all understanding, which tells me this is where God has called me to be.

Br. Samuel Hakeem

CLICK HERE to read Br. Samuel's original posting one year ago.

*Br. Samuel is a cleric brother and will begin studies for ordination in the fall. He and his six classmates are scheduled to profess simple vows on August 14th at St. Dominic's Church, Denver, CO. Please pray for them as they begin their retreat this week.

Montréal Update: A Day in the Life

2011-07-16T10:58:00.006-04:00

I just wanted to give readers a little update on my life here in Montréal now that I've been here for just a little over two weeks.

A typical day for me begins at 5:50am. The sun usually wakes me up, as I only have blinds on the windows. I have breakfast, get ready, and report for daily Mass at 7:30am. (The picture to the left shows the interior of the church from the vantage point of the back section where the community prays daily office--it's a pretty and colorful church in its way.) Morning Prayer follows Mass, but I have to go to school (so I pray Office of Readings and Morning Prayer on my own). I walk to the metro and take the train one station over to school.

I am in French class from 8:30-11:45 Monday-Friday, and on Tuesdays 1:00-3:00pm as well. Most of the class is in French. Indeed, the little smattering of English heard is usually from students. As might be expected, the classes focus on conversations skills and building up our knowledge of grammar rules and vocabulary.

Given the schedule, I miss daytime prayer with the community, but make it home for lunch. Lunch and dinner are great opportunities for me to practice my French, or to listen in on conversations. I admit, I still find it difficult to understand people when the speak at normal pace, especially if they have a heavy Quebecois accent. But...I'm getting better. It was at dinner one evening that I coined a new term--Kentuckcois, a Quebecois variation of "Kentuckian". Je suis Kentuckcois!

If I don't have class in the afternoon, I inevitably have to take an afternoon nap, then get up to study. After prayer and dinner, my evenings are usually taken up by study also.

Things that have surprised me thus far would be the hilliness of the city, the temperature (like how hot and humid Montréal can be), the high prices at the stores, and how tired I get during the day, just from concentrating so hard on understanding others.

Things I have loved so far include the amazing churches in the city (including the two basilicas downtown), the convenience of the metro subway system, the view of the sunsets either from the vantage point of the University of Montreal or the the roof of the priory where I stay, the carrot cake and poutine I had at Nickel's Diner, and the friendliness of the people, especially the Dominican friars with whom I live.

I have also enjoyed getting to witness to my Catholic faith and my Dominican vocation with the people I encounter--namely, the other students in my class. Just getting to wear the Dominican cross around campus and the city is a witness, where the main religious symbol is no longer the habit of Catholic religious brothers and sisters (although I have seen two religious sisters and one benedictine monk in habit), but the head scarf of Muslim women.

Speaking of which, I have been impressed by the number of Muslim women witnessing to their faith by the head scarf. To me, the sight is a powerful one, and a positive one. While most of the Western men and women run around in their summer clothing--some of them barely covered--these women witness to modesty. They become, thereby, a kind of billboard for Islamic values, and they proclaim quite eloquently "We (Muslims) are here." I have only seen one woman wearing the extreme version of the veil, where only here eyes were visible.

On the weekends, I usually explore different parts of the city. This week's adventures included visiting the Cathedral Basilica of Mary, Queen of the World and Notre Dame Basilica and going to see Harry Potter 7.2 in the McGill area of downtown. --Not to mention having Cincinnati style Poutine (the fries with chili and shredded cheddar cheese). That poutine was awesome! I look forward to trying either Mexican or Greek style poutine next.

When in Canada, eh?

Br. Paul, OP

"I will wait for you" by Official P4CM Poet JANETTE...IKZ

2011-07-08T21:42:00.000-04:00

Salutations de Montréal

2011-07-04T10:40:00.005-04:00

J'écris ce à partir du Couvent de St-Albert-le-Grand, à Montréal, au Québec, où je vais vivre pour les six prochaines semaines. Demain, je commence un programme intensif de langue en immersion pour apprendre le français. Je ne parle pas très bien français, je ne le comprends quand je l'écoute des autres, mais je peux lire le français assez bien. Au moins, je peux faire ce que je lis la Bible en français.

Hier, j'ai visité l'Oratoire Saint-Joseph et le tombeau de saint André Bessette. L'Oratoire est un beau bâtiment, et il était émouvant de voir le nombre de béquilles laissées par ceux qui ont été guéris. La seule plainte que j'ai eu était que l'endroit était assez bruyant, avec beaucoup de touristes qui n'avait aucun respect pour le lieu comme un sanctuaire.

J'ai appris que bien que le Québec est majoritairement catholique, les Québécois sont pour la plupart non pratiquant. En fait, il ya une certaine hostilité envers l'Eglise, tant et si bien, les frères dominicains ne portent pas leur habitude en public. Ainsi, alors que les musulmans et les juifs se promener librement dans la ville porter leurs vêtements particuliers, religieuse catholique et le clergé ne peut pas, par crainte de l'hostilité. Quel endroit!

Bien sûr, j'ai beaucoup entendu parler de la volonté de certains Québécois à être indépendant du reste du Canada. J'ai vu seperatists le samedi, quand je suis allé à l'hôpital Sainte-Justine pour voir le duc et la duchesse de Cambridge. Ces manifestants a fait une commotion, avec leurs drapeaux et chants, et à l'époque, je n'aimais pas ça, parce que cela signifiait que le duc et la duchesse ne pouvait pas prendre plus de temps pour saluer la foule. Je ne brièvement vu le Prince William d'onde de nous, il fromt voiture, puis pressés dans le hall d'hôpital. Sur ce, le quatrième de Juillet, je dois rire de mon comportement. D'une part, pourquoi un Américain, le fils de ceux qui ont combattu dans la révolution, si désireux de voir un duc et la duchesse - symboles d'un système de gouvernement que mon peuple a refusé? Et pourquoi devrais-je pas en charge, dans une certaine mesure prudente, les Québécois, agité comme certains d'entre eux sont, pour être libre? Après tout, le désir de changement était ce qui a conduit mes ancêtres à se battre pour leur indépendance de la Grande-Bretagne. Mais, c'est une situation compliquée avec pas de réponse facile, surtout depuis que la majorité des Québécois semblent réellement était de rester unis au Canada.

Tandis que le frère Cristobal et moi attendions de voir le duc et la duchesse, nous avons parlé avec une femme anglophone du Québec. Elle était d'origine juive, mais ne sont plus vraiment cru en Dieu ou son patrimoine religieux. Elle a parlé contre les séparatistes et elle a parlé sur les difficultés que les anglophones sont parfois confrontés vivant au Québec, y compris les règles sur qui est autorisé à assister à laquelle les écoles. Cette question a également porté sur la religion. La femme, à son tour, a demandé à Cristobal frère et moi d'expliquer pourquoi nous resterait catholique après les scandales d'abus sexuels, et elle a demandé au sujet de la vie consacrée - en particulier sur la chasteté. Ce faisant, elle nous a donné l'occasion de témoigner de la foi et de vie religieuse. J'ai été capable de le faire à nouveau avec une autre femme dans la foule qui était chrétien. Ainsi, l'évangélisation peut arriver, même quand on est juste en attente pour attraper un aperçu de la royauté.

[The above was translated using Google Translate. I apologize for any mistakes in grammar, etc.]

Translation:

I am writing this from the Couvent de St-Albert-le-Grand in Montreal, Quebec, where I will be living for the next six weeks. Tomorrow, I begin an intensive language immersion program to learn French. I do not speak French very well, nor do I understand it when I listen to others, but I can read French somewhat well. At least, I can make out what I am reading from the Bible in French.

Yesterday, I visited St. Joseph's Oratory and the tomb of St. Andre Bessette (shown to the left). The Oratory is a beautiful building, and it was poignant to see the number of crutches left behind by those who have been healed. The only complaint I had was that the place was rather noisy, with many tourists who had no respect for the place as a shrine.

I have learned that although Quebec is predominantly Catholic, the Quebecois are mostly nonpracticing. In fact, there is some hostility toward the Church, so much so, the Dominican friars do not wear their habit in public. Thus, while Muslims and Jews freely roam the city wearing their particular clothing, Catholic religious and clergy cannot, for fear of hostility. What a place!

Of course, I have heard much about the desire of some Quebecois to be independent from the rest of Canada. I saw seperatists on Saturday, when I went to St. Justine's Hospital to see the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. These protestors made a commotion, with their flags and chants, and at the time, I did not like it, because it meant that the Duke and Duchess could not take more time to greet the crowd. I only briefly saw Prince William wave to us fromt he car, and then hurry into the hospital lobby. On this, the Fourth of July, I have to laugh at my behavior. On the one hand, why would an American, the son of those who fought in the revolution, be so eager to see a duke and duchess--symbols of a system of government that my people have rejected? And why would I not support, in some cautious measure, the Quebecois, restless as some of them are, to be free? After all, the desire for change was what drove my ancestors to fight for their independence from Britain. But, this is a complicated situation with no easy answer, especially since the majority of the Quebecois seem to actually was to remain united with Canada.

While Brother Cristobal and I were waiting to see the duke and duchess, we spoke with an Anglophone woman from Quebec. She was of Jewish origin, but no longer really believed in God or her religious heritage. She spoke against the seperatist and she spoke about the hardships that Anglophones sometimes face living in Quebec, including rules about who is allowed to attend which schools. That question also touched on religion. The woman, in turn, asked Brother Cristobal and I to explain why we would remain Catholic after the sex-abuse scandals, and she asked about the vowed life--particularly about chastity. In doing so, she gave us an opportunity to witness to the faith and to religious life. I was able to do so again with another woman in the crowd who was a Christian. Thus, evangelization can happen, even when one is just waiting to catch a glimpse of royalty.

Br. Paul, OP

I Loved Jesus in the Night: A New Cooperator Brother's Reflection at the End of the Novitiate

2011-06-29T21:23:00.005-04:00

To my dearest friends and family,

I Loved Jesus in the Night. The title immediately grabbed me when Sr. Helen Mary suggested I read it when we met in Nashville. It is written by a Dominican (Paul Murray, OP) about Mother Teresa (a woman I grew up revering) and her struggles in faith. Everything about the book and the woman recommending it indicated that I would love reading it, which I did. To be honest, though, I really only read it because of the title: I Loved Jesus in the Night. That sentence probably means so many different things to anyone who reads it; what captivates me is the idea of loving Jesus when I just don’t know anything else. It is a simple and honest description of faith.

I probably could have heard that title at a different moment of my life to a significantly smaller effect, but God has a funny way with timing. It came in the midst of my continued discernment about Dominican life when I had no idea what God was asking of me. This year has solidified my call to be a Dominican, but it also raised many questions. How am I called to be a Dominican? As a priest? As a brother? What will I do? In what ways will I serve? Can I really do this? Do they even want me? Who am I actually?

Silent and unseen, Christ was present in all these questions, always leading me. I know I am not alone in feeling that discerning your vocation can be a walk into a night of uncertainties. Even Mother Teresa wrote “Where is Jesus?” not because he was lost, but because she couldn’t see. Following God simply does not “feel good” all the time, and it rarely takes you where you plan on going. The best thing we can do is learn to rest in the hands of God and follow humbly.

For me, this has all been a part of coming to love and be united with the God of the living. My life is more alive, filled with questions and stimulated to growth. This growth takes us beyond ourselves into what we didn’t know before. Some things I thought I knew were really only the beginning (I have a sneaking suspicion that life in Christ is always like that). Today I know that the path I came here on is not going where I thought it was. I entered the Dominicans to become a priest, but I will be taking my first vows in August on the road to being a Cooperator Brother. It’s not the road I thought I was on, but it is indeed the one I am walking.

Now, I am willing to bet that the term “Cooperator Brother” is a bit confusing to many people, given that I didn’t understand it a year ago. In fact, I probably would have entered on this track had I really known what it was. One of the beauties of discernment is that God uses whatever he can to lead us where we cannot imagine. I saw priests growing up, but never brothers. I had met a few cooperator brothers briefly before entering, but I didn’t really understand their life. I still know only so much. But I can share what I do know and invite you all to ask whatever you would like.

To begin with, the vocation of all Dominicans is rooted in our baptismal call and communal life. The fundamental call of each and every baptized person to live a holy life and seek union with God is why we are here. Christians live out that call in many ways, but for a Dominican it begins in community. Our life is modeled after the early church in the Acts of the Apostles, holding all things in common and being of one mind and heart. We pray, eat, live and work together. The good that one does is the good that we all do. Lived well, the Dominican life is radically different from our individualistic culture. We are a family in the truest sense of the word because none of us can do the good we long to do on our own, we need each other. This is the ideal of course, but it is what we strive to be: brothers in Christ.

It is so important to understand communal life because priest, brother, sister and nun are all sharing in that one family. I believe that this family is absolutely where I belong. Whether I become a priest or brother, I am first a Dominican. This means we work together in the ministry of preaching, of sharing the good news with the world and inviting everyone to known Truth. Our province does this in campus ministries, parishes, schools, preaching missions and social justice. Being a priest or a brother means you work in different ways within those fields, but it is our work in cooperation. I still hope to teach theology, work in campus ministry, maybe even work in a foreign mission and whatever else God has in store.

So why a brother? I wish there were a simple answer for you. This year I set out to know myself, to know God, and to learn Love. What I have found in me is not a call to be a priest. I don’t have a desire to say the Mass, to administer the Sacraments or to be a pastor. Maybe I could be very good at those things, but that doesn’t mean I am called to do them. I feel called to live in community, to serve passionately, to minister within the sheepfold rather than as the shepherd.

Priests do these things as well, but they are also called to be the shepherd and to take on a distinct role in the church. While this is difficult for me to explain it is easy to see. When my brothers here talk about their longing to say Mass or to be confessors, I just do not have that desire. It is like listening to a friend explain why they love their girlfriend or wife, when you obviously don’t have those same feelings. She is his vocation, not yours. I have my own love, for serving as a brother. I have always been a brother in a large family and it seems to have stamped its seal on me.

It seems an injustice to describe my vocation so poorly, but it is still mine. I do not claim to be 100% certain about this decision, nor is it unchangeable in the future. Yet in the darkness of doubts and insecurity, there is also great peace. This decision is the fruit of much prayer and reflection. I have prayed daily that I may know myself better, and this is what I have found. Now it is time to trust that my prayers are not in vain and that what my eyes have been opened to is true.

This is not a completely new thought for me either. When I was first discerning with the Dominicans I asked about being a brother, but it was hard to grasp it with such little interaction. As the old saying in theology goes, “you can’t love what you don’t know.” Well, you certainly can’t discern what you don’t know. So I put it aside at the time and decided to follow as best I could with what I did know. Now, I know enough to follow God deeper.(And since I know many people will ask, I am still moving to Saint Louis in August for graduate school in theology and still have many years of formation.)

In the midst of all the nights this discernment has brought, God has never wavered. With the assurance that “those who seek shall find” we are always challenged to discard fear. I hope and pray that each of us will follow what God is asking, but we cannot live in fear of making the wrong choice. We are not free from doubts and questions, but enlivened by faith to live boldly for Christ. It is with faith, humility, and love that we say with Mother Teresa, “My key to heaven will be that I loved Jesus in the night.”

With love,
Br. Joseph Trout, Dominican novice

Click HERE to read Br. Joseph's previous reflection, published at the beginning of the novitiate.

Do This in Memory of Me: Reflection for Corpus Christi

2011-06-25T11:10:00.008-04:00

One of the questions on my "examination of conscience" list demands of me how prepared and focused I was during the Divine Office and Mass. It recognizes that, in some cases, it can be rather a great failing to be distracted. Sometimes, of course, the distraction can be for a good reason--some word from Holy Scripture or from the preaching strikes one's heart and sends one to the merciful lap of the Heavenly Father to discuss one point or other of life. Or, one has brought to prayer and Mass a particular concern. Perhaps one is penitent for a sin committed, or a good deed left undone; or perhaps one is sorrowing over the troubles of a particular person or the world--I am thinking of a story I read in today's paper about Christian Choate, a young boy locked in a dog cage by his parents before they cruelly murdered him; a story that breaks my heart and makes me angry. But these are good distractions, if we may use that term. Bad distractions would be thinking of the food you're going to eat after Mass is over, or making out your agenda for the day, or stewing over some injury you suffered from someone else. Either way, whether good distractions or not-so-good, nothing makes me upset with myself like blinking and realizing that I have missed the words of consecration.

"The Holy Words" as I like to call them, are the words that changed the world and set about the redemption of humanity. It was in the transformation of the bread and wine into his body and blood that defined the sacrifice of the Cross, and made it clear for all time that with his whole being Jesus was offering himself in love for the salvation of the world. Here God the Son was giving himself perfectly, a thing that radically alters the universe. At the very core of what it means to exist--to have being--and to be apart of everything else, connected as we all are from beginning to end, was the very being who defines being making a choice that naturally impacts everything else. At the same time, this God is also a human, showing us what it is that makes humans so close to God--we can give ourselves in love too. All of this is going on at Catholic and Orthodox Churches around the world every day. Would that people were more attentive. My goodness! What a different world it would be, even if only Catholics and Orthodox Christians were changed. But, tragically, most of these people are asleep spiritually. They receive the grace of the Holy Eucharist, but allow it to lie dormant in them.

One story that chastises all of us who receive the Body and Blood of the Lord is that of Blessed Imelda, patron saint of first communicants. Imelda (1322-1331) was just a child when she insisted on entering a Dominican monastery of nuns. She was permitted to wear the habit and to enter into the liturgical ministry of the nuns--namely, the praying of the Divine Office. She was not, however, permitted to receive Holy Eucharist; she was deemed too young. This restriction, far from doing Imelda harm, only caused her to long for the Holy Eucharist as it ought to be longed for. In this way, her story resembles the first reading for this feast where St. Moses the Prophet says: "Remember how for forty years now Adonai, your God, has directed all your journeying in the desert, so as to test you by affliction and find out whether or not it was your intention to keep his commandments. He therefore let you be afflicted with hunger, and then fed you with manna, a food unknown to you and your fathers, in order to show you that not by bread alone does one live, but by every word that comes forth from the mouth of Adonai" (Deut. 8:2-3). Indeed, Blessed Imelda's longing for the Eucharist was answered in much the same way as the hunger of the wandering Israelites. A consecrated host from heaven appeared over her on the vigil of the Lord's Ascension while she was at prayer. A nun noticed this and alerted the monastery chaplain, who then administered the host to the joyful little nun. So thoroughly schooled in the truth of the Real Presence was Imelda that tradition says she literally died of happiness, found by the mother superior still kneeling and with a smile on her face.

It seems to me that this feast calls us to do two things. One, it calls us to a greater attentiveness to the reality of what we receive during Mass. As St. Paul declares in the second reading, "Brothers and sisters: the cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ?" (1 Cor 10:16). If we really believe so, how is it that we receive Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament in such a sluggish and lazy manner? And how is it that we leave the Church and return to our sinful habits? We must imitate the great and blessed nun, little Imelda, and love the Lord more, allowing our love to awaken us and stir us to meet Jesus with eagerness and joy.

Two, Jesus himself--the one we go to meet in the Eucharist--has left us a command. Not only to eat his flesh and drink his blood as the way to eternal life, as we hear in today's Gospel (John 6:51-58), but to "Do this in memory of me". To me, this commandment is not just the institution imperative, establishing the sacrament of the Eucharist, it is also a moral imperative. Jesus is saying, just as I have given my body and my blood, so must you also give your body and your blood. In this way, we wage a spiritual war against our lazy humanity--our laziness toward Jesus as the object of our love, and our laziness toward loving our brothers and sisters in the world, who hunger for our love.

In this way, the Feast of Corpus Christi ought to appeal to two visible groups in the Church today--on the one hand, the devotional crowd who attend Eucharistic adoration, pray the rosary, etc., and on the other hand, the social justice crowd who protest abuses and advocate for real change in society. These two crowds come together for Eucharist each Mass, but this Feast of Corpus Christi demands that they come together in a stronger and more meaningful way. "Because the loaf of bread is one, we though many, are one body, for we all partake of the one loaf" (1 Cor 10:17), St. Paul says. The devotional types need to step out of their comfort zones more and work to end oppression and abuses in the world--not just on behalf of the unborn, but on behalf of all. And they should work for concrete changes. The social justice advocates need to take a break from their anger and seek refuge in the silence of our churches, sitting before the Lord and opening their hearts about the pain that they see in others or the pain they have themselves. Perhaps then the two crowds can see that they are on the same team and members of the same Church.

This is holy fire--the fire of love for our God, and the fire that makes us eager for the Reign of God to be manifest in our world. The Kingdom is among us already, the Messiah said. Where? Where? The world says. Here! Here! The Church says, as we partake in the feast again. Let us prove it to the world by loving completely, holding nothing back.
Br. Paul, OP

*I make a generalization and oversimplification about the "devotional" and "social justice" crowds simply to make a point. Pardon the exaggeration.

Summer Reading

2011-06-18T17:55:00.006-04:00

"Her eyes were filled with tears of awful love and admiration; and she felt that pure devotion, superior to all the distinctions of human system, which lifts the soul above this world, and seems to expand it into a nobler nature; such devotion as can, perhaps, only be experienced, when the mind, rescued, for a moment, from the humbleness of earthly considerations, aspires to contemplate His power in the sublimity of His works, and His goodness in the infinity of His blessings."

That eloquent and pious sentiment is the reflection of Emily St. Aubert, the heroine of Ann Radcliffe's The Mysteries of Udolpho, a Gothic novel of the late 18th Century, and the current fiction selection for my summer reading. Actually, I just started reading this work this morning, inspired to do so by several of the essays I have been reading in one of my other summer selections, the 2011 edition of Persuasions: The Jane Austen Journal. This edition is devoted to Austen's Northanger Abbey, a parody of the Gothic novel, and one of Austen's works that mention the novels of Mrs. Radcliffe. I bought several Gothic novels this past semester with the intention of reading them this summer to fill-in the gaps of my 18th and 19th century English literary studies. This is easier said than done, as several of these works are quite long and are not nearly as good as Austen's works. 46 pages in, I find Mrs. Radcliffe's style readable, but verbose. Her characters are interesting, but flat, and there is hardly any dialogue to unite them together; rather, the narrator must do much of the work.

For theological reflection, I have been reading the great and saintly Anglican theologian's Reflections on the Psalms. C. S. Lewis' style is a delight to read, and the points he makes in such a short space are impressive. I hope to do a blog reflection on this work when I finish it, so I will save more of my thoughts for later. It is quite good and quite short, so I recommend it for those looking for a deeper summer read. My spiritual reading also includes the Gospel of Jesus Christ according to St. Luke.

And finally, I purchased a rather large tome on Monday entitled John Henry Newman: The Challenge to Evangelical Religion. In reading this work I hope to feed two birds with one hand--learning more about Bl. Newman, as well as continuing the cultivation of my understanding of the early Victorian Era and its religious turmoil. This 740 paged work will likely take me the whole of the summer to wade through. It is fortunate that I am interested in the topic, and have an understanding of the subject, given my thesis research in the area.

I just finished reading A Jane Austen Education by William Deresiewicz, and hope to have my book review of it published on another blog. I will keep you posted.

If you would like to recommend books as summer reading considerations for me or others, comment on this post and let us know what you're reading.
Br. Paul, OP

A New Provincial for St. Albert the Great Province

2011-06-14T17:22:00.006-04:00

The friars of St. Albert the Great Province (Central, USA) have been on pins and needles the past six days, as the delegates to the provincial chapter convened and discussed, among other important items, who ought to be our new prior provincial. Fr. Michael Mascari, OP served our province well these past eight years, but his term ended last Thursday. In fact, one of his last acts as prior provincial was to receive my vows in place of Fr. Bruno Cadore, OP, Master of the Order. Michael's term will be remembered for many things, most notably moving our Bolivian vicariate closer to its merger with the German Bolivian vicariate, and spearheading the purchase of the former Loretto Academy in St. Louis to be the new home of the House of Studies (studentate) for the Central and Southern provinces.

The process for voting on the new prior provincial is necessarily a prayerful and slow one. The friars at the chapter celebrated the Mass of the Holy Spirit, asking for the Spirit's guidance on all aspects of the chapter. They also had plenty of silent time for reflection. Eventually, they gathered to discuss possible candidates, and once a fair number of candidates was agreed upon, the friars in question were brought in for interviews. This morning the delegates voted. Their pick was Fr. Charlie Bouchard, OP. I celebrate their pick, as my impression of my brother Charlie is that he is a hardworking, wise man. He brings energy and vision to everything he does, especially his preaching, which I have enjoyed several times while attending Mass at St. Francis Xavier College Church, the campus parish for the University of St. Louis.

One of Fr. Charlie's most important contributions to the province already has been the time he served as president of Aquinas Institute of Theology, a position now held by Fr. Richard Peddicord, OP. As president, Fr. Charlie oversaw the purchase of a new building for our school of theology and worked hard to establish AI as a well known institution of the Archdiocese of St. Louis.

Our new prior provincial faces many challenges, as do all of the men and women who have leadership ministries in the Church today. In particular, St. Albert's province has a growing number of older friars in need of medical care, and a growing number of younger friars in need of education. The friars in active ministry, too, have needs,--a sizable family of brothers to care for, indeed. He also has the new cost of a renovation project to work on, negotiations in Bolivia to participate in, as well as the continued need to proclaim the Word of God.

Please join me in praying for Fr. Charlie Bouchard, OP, as he begins the ministry of prior provincial. May the Holy Spirit who inspired the brothers to elect him, stay with him as friend and guide. Please also pray for the continued work of the provincial chapter, as it works to establish the vision for the province in the coming years.
Br. Paul, OP

Rivalry in the Order of Preachers: A Prayer for Pentecostal Unity

2011-06-12T14:56:00.003-04:00

The Order of Preachers is not as united as it could be; there are rifts and tensions, old hurts and new insults. The friars of one province sometimes look down their noses at the friars of other provinces, believing they have the correct form of Dominican life, likewise the sisters. Even our habit--a sign of our common identity--becomes a symbol of discord when Dominicans use the wearing or not wearing of it to judge their brothers and sisters. Perhaps this reality of tension is as old as the order, or perhaps I am just sensitive to it, believing that it is increasingly alienating members of the order from each other.

Or maybe the tensions within the order reflect the tensions in the Church--the growing pains we are currently experiencing as we continue to discern the meaning and impact of Vatican II. Either way, I am disturbed by them. I fear that the competitiveness and the condescension I observe are eating away at the health of the order and may become a source of scandal for those who know Dominicans and hear the way they talk about their brothers and sisters. I feel that as the members of the order prepare to celebrate the 800th anniversary of the founding of the order in 2016, we need to address this threat to our unity and our preaching mission.

Perhaps I can offer three scripture passages to meditate upon--only three among many others. I feel these three passages stand in accusation against the present situation, and demand that we act to improve our fraternal and sororal connections, across provincial and congregational affiliations.

"For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect" (Matt 5:46-48).
"Those who say, 'I love God,' and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen. The commandment we have from him is this: those who love God must love their brothers and sisters also" (1 John 4:20-21).
"If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing" (1 Cor 13:1-3).

These passages are all related. The sins addressed in them may be labelled provincialism (an exclusive identification with one's particular group), lack of charity, and self-righteousness. In each case, the preacher is trying to say the same thing: it does not matter if you belong to the right group, and it does not matter if you worship correctly, and it does not matter how orthodox your beliefs are, etc., because if these things do not teach you how to love, you have nothing. One could translate this in terms related to the Dominican tensions as: it does not matter if you wear or do not wear the habit, and it does not matter if your theology is flawlessly orthodox, and it does not matter if you unflaggingly work for social justice, and it does not matter if you are getting 2 or 22 vocations a year--if you are not loving, you are not Dominican.

Why this is so important is obvious. If people look at the order with the tensions between members of the provinces and congregations, they do not see a grace-filled Christian sign of the Kingdom, they see the old sinfulness of the world in a white and black package. What kind of holy preaching is that? The key, I think, is doing what Dominicans do best--talking. If Dominicans can break down the walls that insulate them by visiting communities in other provinces or congregations, then they will better see these friars, nuns, or sisters as family. Not only that, the presence of the visiting brother or sister would be a kind of cross-pollination, bringing new ideas or expressions to the home community.

It's easy to condemn theories; it's not so easy to condemn people you know and love. Our trouble is, we do not know one another anymore, and we're happy to go on living that way. But this is weak and cowardly for men and women who claim to seek Veritas (truth). And so on this Solemnity of Pentecost let us pray that the Holy Spirit of Wisdom and Charity, the Spirit who is the Veritas we Dominicans seek and love, would grant us greater unity, converting the hearts of the men and women of the Order, until our love for one another reflects the Gospel message we preach.

Br. Paul, OP

The above reflection was inspired both by my reflection on sibling rivalry in the Book of Genesis, and by the presentation given on conflict partnering by Sr. Donna Markham, OP at my province's summer assembly.

My Royal Wedding

2011-06-06T10:26:00.002-04:00

On April 29th, 2011, news channels across the globe took a brief hiatus from reporting the litany of the world's miseries and turned with curious eyes on a handsome prince and his very beautiful bride. The Royal Wedding of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge was the stuff, not of fairy tales, but of down-to-earth human joy. Two souls united together publicly through a sacrament--a symbol of a mystical reality; that is, the reality that we are most human when we are giving ourselves away, in love, to other people. We humans have the capability to do that, to give our souls, in love, to others--to become one with others, not just contractually, but existentially, ontologically, mystically. In fact, we are happiest when we do this. Marriage is such a beautiful sacrament, precisely because it recognizes, facilitates, and encourages us to give ourselves away.

Even more important, marriage becomes a symbol for an even greater reality--the reality that the unity possible between two human persons is possible between the human soul and the Divine One, as well. St. Bernard wrote, "Of all the movements, sensations and feelings of the soul, love is the only one in which the creature can respond to the Creator and make some sort of similar return however unequal though it be. For when God loves, all he desires is to be loved in return; the sole purpose of his love is to be loved, in the knowledge that those who love him are made happy by their love of him."

The love romance between the Creator and humanity is recorded throughout the Holy Scriptures. To God, the human authors have written such beautiful lines as: "Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth! For your love is better than wine..." (Song of Songs 1:2); "O God, you are my God, I seek you, my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water" (Psalm 63 1:1); and "I loved her and sought her from my youth; I desired to take her for my bride, and became enamored of her beauty" (Wisdom 8:2). And who could forget the simple words of St. Peter, when he said, "Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you" (John 21:17).

God, in turn, has proposed his love to us, saying: "For as a young man marries a young woman, so shall your builder marry you, and as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you" (Isaiah 62:5) and "I will take you for my wife forever; I will take you for my wife in righteousness and in justice, in steadfast love, and in mercy. I will take you for my wife in faithfulness; and you shall know the Lord" (Hosea 2:19-20). Matthew, Mark, and Luke all reference Jesus' self-identification as bridegroom (Matt 9:15; Mark 2:19; Luke 5:34), and in Matthew, Jesus describes those faithful Christians who are waiting for his return as virgins waiting for the bridegroom (Matt 25:1).

The image of the Christian as the Bride and Christ as the Bridegroom is an important one in the Book of Revelation. In the midst of that book's strange and frightening prophecies comes an image of light, of hope, and of joy--the image of the Bride longing for her Bridegroom (Rev 21-22). It reminds the Christian that he or she should be longing for the Second Coming, just as a bride would long for her lover's return.

Spousal spirituality has a place in Christian tradition among the saints. St. Catherine of Alexandria had a mystical marriage to Christ, as did St. Catherine of Siena. St. Bernard of Clairvaux, mentioned earlier, also spoke eloquently of spousal spirituality. My espousal to Christ occurred on January 17th, 2007. I was in the novitiate at the time, and was at prayer, when Jesus made it clear to me that his love for me was one of lover to beloved. In fact, he says this to all of us during the Holy Mass. When he gives us his body and blood for food and drink, he is pronouncing the words of an ardent lover for his beloved. Indeed, I think every Mass is a wedding, between Christ and the believer. He gives himself, and we receive him--the two becoming one in the highest way, a mystical marriage.

Although the term "Bride of Christ" is usually used for nuns and sisters, spousal spirituality is definitely a component to the profession of vows for male religious, as well, which is why I see this Wednesday as my wedding day. Christ has given himself to me freely, I will freely give myself to him, in return. If Kate Middleton was excited to be marrying the future king of England, how must I feel to be marrying the King of Heaven? How could I even dare such a thing? St. Bernard answered this, when he wrote:

"What then of the bride's hope, her aching desire, her passionate love, her confident assurance? Is all this to wilt just because she cannot match stride for stride with her giant, any more than she can view with honey for sweetness, rival the lamb for gentleness, show herself as white as the lily, burn as bright as the sun, be equal in love with him who is Love? No. It is true that the creature loves less because she is less. But if she loves with her whole being, nothing is lacking where everything is given. To love so ardently then is to share the marriage bond; she cannot love so much and not be totally loved, and it is in the perfect union of two hearts that complete and perfected marriage consists. Or are we to doubt that the soul is loved by the Word first and with a greater love?"

Please pray for me as I make this commitment to Christ, that I would love God with my whole being. And pray that the Holy Spirit would give me the virtues I need to be faithful for the rest of my life.

Thank you!
Br. Paul, OP

Quotes from St. Bernard come from Sermo 83, 4-6: Opera omnia, Edit. Cisterc. 2 (1958), 300-302 (or in the breviary for the proper of Aug. 20th, pp1333-1334).

Two More Candidates for the Novitiate

2011-06-04T18:27:00.007-04:00

One of the perks of working for the vocations promoter and living at St. Pius V Priory (the mother house of St. Albert the Great Province) is getting to be present for exciting things like admissions boards. My province just held the last admissions board for the novitiate class of 2011/2012, this Friday and Saturday. Thanks be to God, two young men were approved, giving us a grand total of eight approved candidates for this summer.

Brandon McCaffery (shown on the left in the photo above) is a 22 year-old graduate of St. Mary's University and Immaculate Heart of Mary Seminary in Winona, MN. He has a BA in English Literature and Philosophy and has studied under the legendary Fr. Cy Fabian, OP; the second one in that category for this upcoming class (Kevin Masterson is the other). When not immersed in studies, Brandon edited the school newspaper, offered some of his own poetry for publication, and tutored math students in the local high school. Most notably, he recently celebrated his birthday in prison (not as an inmate, but preaching to the local inhabitants). Originally from South Bend, IN (Home of the Fighting Irish!), Brandon is an avid tennis and racquetball player.

Andrew Anderson (shown on the right in the photo) is a 24 year-old Area Coordinator for Aquinas College Residence Life. Like our beloved President of Aquinas Institute of Theology, Fr. Richard Peddicord, OP and "holy novice," Br. James Peter Trares, "Drew" ( as he is known) is a graduate of Aquinas College in Grand Rapids, MI. While there, he earned a BS in Geography and held membership in the same discernment group as James Peter. Drew originally comes from the bare desert of Southwest, AZ where his family resides today. When not with his students and attending to his 9 residence halls, Drew can be found hacking it up on the golf course. While yet to receive a call from Tiger Woods, Drew is an accomplished instructor and coach on the green. Away from the course, Drew can be found volunteering at Hope Lodge for cancer patients.*

After a delicious lunch here at the priory, I took Brandon and Drew downtown to walk around Chicago's beautiful lakefront. They are joyful eager young men, ready to begin a new phase in their relationship to God. Please keep them and their six classmates in prayer.

For those who may be wondering, there are many steps to becoming a Dominican friar, other than the obvious spiritual ones (prayer, receiving a vocational call from God, etc.). First, a man has to make contact with the friars, usually the vocation promoter is the ideal person to speak to. Second, the man should come visit the friars. In my province, an inquirer should visit the novitiate in Denver, the studentate in St. Louis, and the provincial headquarters in Chicago. That said, having a relationship with the friars in one of the smaller communities at our parishes and Newman centers certainly does count for something. Third, an inquirer usually attends a Come and See vocation discernment weekend at the studentate in St. Louis. This weekend gives the man a good idea of what the history and charism of the Order of Preachers are all about, and what the personality of the province is like. These are essential things to know (although they can be learned in ways besides the Come and See). The fourth step is for the man to formally apply to the province. This involves several things, but the main point of the application is to tell the admissions board about you and your spiritual journey. This helps them to discern with you to see if the Dominicans of this province are the right fit for you and vice versa. The last step is to go before the admissions board for the interviews. Once accepted, you eventually report to the prenovitiate in mid-July and begin the next process--living as a Dominican friar.

An important step of the process was discussed at lunch today, and I feel I have to share it, because it came from the oldest member of St. Albert's province--Benedict Ashley, OP. At one point in the conversation, Fr. Ashley lamented the fact that the young people of today are eager for the faith, and eager to give their lives to good works--but they are so weak in their commitments. His advice was simple, "Make up your minds, and then stick to your decisions!" Sage advice, not only to the two young candidates at the table, and not only to the young friar about to profess solemn vows (yours truly), but to us all. Fr. Ashley's advice recognizes that along with God's grace, the human will is a key component to living out one's vocation. We have to not only desire to do God's will, we have to actively will to keep willing that--to recommit, even in the face of difficulties. Only then can one come to celebrate, as so many of the friars of St. Pius V Priory are doing these days, fifty or sixty years of vowed life and priestly ordination.
Br. Paul, OP

*Note, another friar wrote the above descriptions of our candidates. The candidates gave me permission to use these descriptions and the photo in this blog article.

Paging Nurse Horwell, OP

2011-06-02T10:57:00.002-04:00

On Thursday, May 19th, Br. Richard Horwell, O.P., graduated from the nursing program at St. Louis University. The event marked the successful completion of a rather intense year of studies and clinical work, everything from pediatrics to hospice. Not only did Br. Richard complete the necessary course work for his program, he excelled at it, graduating with honors.

Some may wonder why a Dominican student brother was studying nursing--just as they may wonder why I am going to be studying Writing and Publishing at DePaul University this fall. Like me, Br. Richard is a cooperator brother, so in discernment with his student master and provincial, along with the Holy Spirit, he was able to see that he could contribute to and support his Dominican community best by using the skills he has in healthcare. By being a nurse, he will not only get to care for the physical needs of his patients, but their spiritual needs, as well.

I lived with Br. Richard this past year, and I can testify to his dedication and hard work. Even if he was sick, Br. Richard did his best to study and complete his assignments. I was even a patient of his toward the end of the semester, when I came down with a nasty stomach virus. His bedside manner was truly consoling, as I could rely on his no-nonsense advice. I also observed what life Br. Richard's studies gave to the community. Just the novelty of it all was enough to add flavor to the conversations at meals and recreation. Doing something different, going someplace new in ministry, can breathe new air into a religious community, and give them fresh ideas about how to spread and apply the Gospel message.

I wish Nurse Horwell, OP, all the best as he continues his healthcare ministry.
Br. Paul, OP

Preparing for Solemn Profession with Samuel Mazzuchelli

2011-05-30T16:10:00.003-04:00

"Let us wake up then, open our eyes in apostolic charity, and if we are called, set out for any place where the work is great and difficult, but where also, with the help of the One who sends us, we shall open the way to the Gospel."

Samuel Mazzuchelli, the great Italian missionary to the American Midwest and candidate for beatification, has been on my mind lately as I prepare to profess solemn vows with the Order of Preachers on June 8th--less than two weeks away. After being in the Order five years, I am about to make a life-long commitment through the ratification of my vows, this time giving my life over to the service of God and his Church through the Order of Preachers permanently.

As the above quote from Father Samuel illustrates, he had an amazing sense of what the life of an itinerant friar was all about. Indeed, he had only been in the Order as long as I have been, and was only 22 years old, when he heard the call for missionaries for the growing Church in the United States. Out of apostolic charity, he answered that call, loving the people he would serve (both European Americans and Native Americans) even before he met them. And he had the kind of willingness to work that would put most people to shame--undaunted by the difficulties entailed by the great amount of work to do. He left for the United States without any mastery of the English language, without a thorough knowledge of how to get where he was going, and without enough resources to get there; but he had faith, and sure enough, he made it safely to St. Rose, Kentucky, where he would continue his studies for the priesthood.

In 1830, he was ordained by the first bishop of Cincinnati, Edward Dominick Fenwick--a fellow Dominican friar and founder of the U.S. Province of St. Joseph. Father Samuel's first assignment was not to a single parish in Cincinnati, nor nearby Covington or Newport, Kentucky--it was the entire Northwest Territory. He would travel all over Michigan, Wisconsin, Iowa, Missouri, and more. By the time he died, he had designed more than 24 buildings, both churches and civic buildings, although there is no indication that he formally studied architecture. Some of these churches still stand today. Not only that, he published books in Winnebago and Chippewa, the better to serve the Native American Christians he encountered and cared for.

While his artistic skills are fascinating, and his organizational skills are extraordinary, it is his commitment to itinerancy and evangelization that impresses me most. When you read about him, you get the sense that Fr. Samuel knew the work was not about him, and its success was not dependent on him. He would organize a parish community, maybe design its building, but at a certain point, he knew it was time to move on. Other people needed him, and so he would pick up and go. This spirit of itineracy is truly apostolic, both in its spirit and in the practical reality that Fr. Samuel was true to the vow of poverty, and did not have possessions. He was not loyal to a house, nor did he have a whole library he had to tote around (like so many of us Dominicans). This, along with that untiring "Yes!" to change, allowed him to live like the Apostle Paul and St. Dominic, not to mention the Messiah himself. This model is important for me, because it reminds me not to put down roots in any place in such a way that I resist saying "yes!" to the call to serve some place else. It challenges me not to collect things, so that I can pick up and move without undue fuss. Fr. Samuel's model inspires me to be free, simply by living out the life of a friar the way it was intended to be lived.

As for evangelization, I marvel at Fr. Samuel's dedication to preaching the Gospel, whether convenient or inconvenient. Not only did he seek to learn the languages of the people he ministered to--English and various Native American languages--he sought to meet the challenge of the ecumenical competition of his day, as well. When he encountered a Protestant preacher who was anti-Catholic and preaching against the Church to gain converts, Fr. Samuel responded by attending the Protestant preacher's speeches, and then offering counter points at his own church. He offered to host the Protestant preacher, but that man declined. Fr. Samuel respected Protestants as Christians, but he was well prepared to counter the charges made by them against the Church. His Memoirs testify to the keenness of his arguments, and to his humor, as when he says: "It is only too true that Biblical fanaticism deprives man of his intelligence and throws him into a certain degree of dementia for which medical science has not yet found a remedy." In this way, Fr. Samuel reminds me that a preacher needs to be ready to serve the needs of everyone he or she encounters. A preacher feeds his or her hearers with the Gospel and with the apostolic tradition handed down in the Catholic Church. My study, therefore, of scripture and theology must be an ever on-going process, since new questions and new challenges to the faith arise everyday. My neighbors are hungry to know the truth, and it is my job to speak truth to them intelligently.

All of his energy, and all of his work, his preaching and teaching, came from the well of his prayer life. Complementing this prayer life, Fr. Samuel was a man of penance, wearing around his waist a chain to remind him of his sinfulness. Indeed, he knew the importance of knowing one's own sinfulness in order to understand God's great gift of mercy. He wrote: "How many are lost by denying to divine mercy that tiny sacrifice which often proves to be the invisible seed of a tree, which is to bear fruit of eternal life." He also wrote: "How foolish are those Christians who weep and lament over poverty, misfortunes, sickness, the death of kindred, and never think of sorrowing or sighing over their own sins and obstinate resistance to Divine Grace." The first quote reminds me of Jesus' own words to St. Maria Faustina, and the second quote is a succinct critique of the modern world that often pities itself in the aftermath of disasters and wars, but does nothing to convert from its sinfulness. The key to conversion, Fr. Samuel's example shows, is prayer. Thus, as I begin this new phase of my life as a Dominican friar, Fr. Samuel's life reminds me to remain true to prayer and penance. By staying close to God in prayer, the Christian sees better his or her own sinfulness, but also God's great compassion and patience. By embracing penance, he or she actively works against cycles of sinful habits, and follows after the Savior, who denied himself for the sake of others.

On February 23, 1864, Fr. Samuel died due to exposure to the cold. He had been out in the inclement whether answering the call to attend a dying man, administering to him the sacraments. This seems to me a fitting end to a life lived for others, a religious brotherhood that could refuse no one comfort and a priesthood dedicated to intercession and reconciliation. It is no wonder, then, that when I look to models of Dominican life, ways of walking the path of an itinerant preacher, I think of Venerable Samuel Mazzuchelli, my Dominican brother.

The image that stands out to me most at this time, the one I think that parallels my feelings best as I prepare for solemn vows, is the image of a young Italian man looking out across the sea as he stands on board the ship taking him away from his homeland, family and friends. He breathes in deeply the air blowing against him as his hair is tousled this way and that. His heart is full of emotion, and perhaps tears come to his eyes--but he prays with the Psalmist: "My heart is ready, O God! My heart is ready!" (57:8). These words are in my heart, as well, and I pray that God would bless me, as he did my brother Samuel, with a heart that will be always open and always ready, a heart like that of Jesus.
Br. Paul, OP

For more information on Venerable Father Samuel Mazzuchelli visit the website of the Sinsinawa Dominican Sisters (the congregation he founded) at: http://www.sinsinawa.org/08_Fr_Mazzuchelli/Fr_Mazzuchelli.htm

Read his memoirs: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/The-Missionary/Samuel-Mazzuchelli/e/9781932490107/?itm=2&USRI=samuel+mazzuchelli

Or go on pilgrimage to his grave in St. Patrick's Cemetery, Benton, Wisconsin, and to the Motherhouse of the Sinsinawa Dominicans where the relic of Ven. Mazzuchelli is kept.

The End of the World and a New False Prophet

2011-05-24T09:39:00.010-04:00

The end of the world was supposed to come on May 21st, 2011 according to Harold Camping. It did not--at least not for most of us. For the 116 people killed in Joplin, MO from the deadliest tornado in the U.S. since 1953, the end came on May 22nd in that frighteningly horrible way that mother nature has of highlighting our vulnerability as humans. The end came for countless others due to disease, starvation, war, domestic violence, cruel crimes, and unfortunate accidents. The end did come for many people on May 21st, 22nd, and 23rd, but not in the cosmic and collective way that some expected or hoped it would. It came peacefully for some, tragically for others, expected or unexpected. It will come today for many more.

The "end of the world" or "judgement day" looms over the Christian imagination. To be honest, I had not heard anything about Mr. Camping's prediction until I returned to Kentucky, to my Protestant family. The Catholic circle I usually move in had been undisturbed by the prediction, and rightly so. I hope all Catholics know better than to listen to false prophecy. In truth, there are two important things Catholics should keep in mind at this time; two important points they can share with their Protestant neighbors:

1) We should always be living as if today is the last day. We should not wait until some prediction comes to "get right with God" and to share our resources with others. Waiting until someones says "it's May 21st" or "October 21st" to try and live as the Messiah instructed is the behavior of someone without faith, hope or charity. You certainly cannot claim to love God deeply and genuinely if you disregard what he has told you. And what did the Messiah say? He taught the parable of the Wise and the Foolish Virgins, the heart of which was his conclusion: "Therefore stay awake, for you know neither the day nor the hour" (Matthew 25:13). Any day could be the day, so we Christians must be ready.

2) We should not listen to anyone who claims to have knowledge of the Last Day. After all, the Messiah also said: "But of that day or hour, no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father" (Mark 13:32 & Matt 24:36). --If only the Father knows, how can Harold Camping or William Miller*, or anyone else, for that matter, know when the day will be? That it will remain a secret is also clear from scripture. St. Paul says, "Concerning times and seasons, brothers [and sisters], you have no need for anything to be written to you. For you yourselves know very well that the day of the Lord will come like a thief at night" (1 Thessalonians 5:1-2). If it were otherwise there would not be such an emphasis on vigilance (Mark 13:33-36). Indeed, St. Paul further writes, "But you, brothers [and sisters], are not in darkness, for that day to overtake you like a thief. For all of you are children of the light and children of the day. We are not of the night or of darkness. Therefore, let us not sleep as the rest do, but let us stay alert and sober" (1 Thessalonians 5:4-6).

I believe that I have taken St. Paul's words to heart, because end-of-the-world-predictions do not disturb me spiritually, as they do others of my acquaintance. Since I believe that my whole life belongs to God and is about God, I could hardly wish to avoid the day that would bring me a better vision of him, even if descriptions of that day are fearful--as they seem to be in the Book of Revelation (which the Church has been reading for the past few weeks in the Office of Readings). If that day is great and terrible, it is great for those who love, hope, and believe in God's promises, and terrible for those who do not. A Christian has nothing to fear about that day, which is why we pray for its coming each time we pray the words of the Our Father "Thy kingdom come!" and when we pray "Come Lord Jesus, do not delay!" during Advent. We are a people who sees the Last Day as an act of God, a day of revelation--in other words, we see it as a good thing. I have confidence that it will be a day of mercy as well as a display of power. Mystery will be explained and encountered on a deeper level for "we will see him as he is" (1 John 3:2). And then the vision will be fulfilled:

"...They stand before God's throne
and worship him day and night in his temple.
The one who sits on the throne will shelter them.
They will not hunger or thirst anymore,
nor will the sun or any heat strike them.
For the Lamb who is in the center of the throne
will shepherd them
and lead them to springs of life-giving water,
and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes"
(Revelation 7:15-17).

Let us Catholic Christians, who enjoy the grace and blessings of the sacraments of the Messiah--especially baptism and Eucharist--be not afraid of the coming day. If we have died with him, we will also rise with him and reign with him (2 Timothy 2:11-12) so what should be be afraid of?

Or, if we were frightened by Mr. Camping's prediction, so much the better, because it shows us a need to reorient our lives on God, and to ponder our values. Are we Christians of faith, hope, and charity? Or are we Christians only in name, living as any of our neighbors might be living, asleep and unprepared for the Messiah's return--or worse, unwilling for the Messiah's return to come in our time?

As for Mr. Camping himself, I am not his judge--though I do believe he is guilty of false prophecy (which is a serious sin). Preaching the end times is the duty of all preachers, but predicting the date itself opens one up for ridicule and derision. The words of the Messiah already convict people. He said "If anyone says to you then, "look, here is the Messiah!' or 'There he is!' do not believe it" (Matt 24:23; Mark 13:21). Scripture also says "Know that, even though a prophet speaks in the name of the Lord, if his oracle is not fulfilled or verified, it is an oracle which the Lord did no speak. The prophet has spoken it presumptuously, and you shall have no fear of him" (Deuteronomy 18:22) [See also Jeremiah 28:9; Ezekiel 33:33.]

Declaring a false prophecy, as Mr. Camping has, ought to put people on their guard, as Jesus said "Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves" (Matthew 7:15). Unfortunately, some may be unperturbed by the fact that Mr. Camping "got it wrong" and some may be foolish enough to continue to follow him, just as some were foolish enough to follow William Miller, Joseph Smith, and others. These, I think, are those who will say on the actual last day, "'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name? Did we not drive out demons in your name? Did we not do mighty deeds in your name?'" They, and their followers who deserted the true Church and worked against it, will hear that frightening declaration from the Lord: "'I never knew you. Depart from me, you evildoers'" (Matthew 7:22-23).

Moral of the story: Stay awake, be on your guard--but most importantly, be in love with God and do not fear. Live as if today were the day--meaning, be merciful, charitable, quick to forgive, quick to seek forgiveness, be penitent, receive the sacraments, read scripture, do the works of mercy, and love the next life more than you love this one. Of course, this may require you to turn off the computer or television or cell phone or iPod and to sit still long enough to hear God again within you so that you can remember who it is that you exist for.
Br. Paul, OP

*William Miller started the Millerite Movement, from which the Seventh Day Adventist and Jehovah's Witness and other groups were formed. Miller wrongly predicted that the Second Coming of Christ would occur on October 22, 1844. Despite Miller's false prophesy, some followers continued the movement in the form of Adventist communities. (One reason I role my eyes at the claims of Seventh Day Adventist, a group I think should pay closer attention to Christian texts (since they claim to be Christian), in particular, the Letter to the Galatians (since they seem to want to be Jews and not Christians).

**Note, I don't mean to claim that end-of-the-world-predictions are Protestant events only. I mean to disparage merely the act itself as foolish. This is in contrast to preaching the Second Coming as imminent, which is a Christian duty and tradition. I also do not mean to disparage Mr. Camping's morality or spirituality as a whole, since I do not know him personally, rather, I am focusing on his claim to know when the Last Day is coming. I evaluate it as a fellow Christian in light of the scandal his behavior brings to Christianity as a result of his being wrong. His false prediction may lead some to reject Christianity or to laugh at the Gospel, which are serious matters for the Christian community.

Rolling in the Deep: A Reflection, Part II

2011-05-14T16:43:00.006-04:00

As discussed in part one of this reflection, “Rolling in the Deep” is a song about anger and disappointment. In part two of this reflection, I want to discuss the application of this song to life and prayer.

A good place to begin is a quote from James Collins’ essay “Fanny was Right: Jane Austen as Moral Guide.” Collins writes, “How can morals, sentiments, and manners help me live in the world? What should my relations to the world be? Should I reject it entirely as corrupt and mercenary and spiteful and hypocritical and shallow? Or is there some other way, a way I can keep my integrity and sensitivity, but live in the world too?” (151). Collins offers a quote from W. H. Auden as a further explanation of his question, but before I cite that as well, I want to note the feeling behind the question Collins’ poses, because I think it would be an appropriate one for the speaker of Adele’s song to ask herself after having suffered such a betrayal and disappointment. For all of her threats and big talk, I think the speaker in “Rolling in the Deep” is spiritually and emotionally shattered. Her anger is taking over, and is preventing healing from happening. She is in danger of rejecting the “corrupt and mercenary and spiteful and hypocritical and shallow” world, because she has been in contact with one person who exhibited all of those traits. Unfortunately, that one person happened to be important to her. Unfortunately, she had given her heart to him. She needs—I could say “we need”— to know if there is a way to keep one’s “integrity and sensitivity, but live in the world too.”

W. H. Auden paints a powerful dichotomy for us when he writes:

“Does Life only offer two alternatives: ‘You shall be happy, healthy, attractive, a good mixer, a good lover and parent, but on the condition that you are not overcurious about life. On the other hand you shall be sensitive, conscious of what is happening round you, but in that case you must not expect to be happy, or successful in love or at home in any company. There are two worlds and you cannot belong to them both. If you belong to the second of these worlds you will be unhappy because you will always be in love with the first, while at the same time you will despise it. The first world on the other hand will not return your love because it is in its nature to love only itself,” (151).

Actually, this theory can be devastating. I could go on and talk about Collins’ theory that Jane Austen actually goes beyond Auden and says there is a better middle ground—but I’m not really interested in the answer. I love the truth found in the tension of the question. Perhaps I love Auden’s definition of the two worlds precisely because it obviously favors the second world described—superior, although unhappy, because it engages life and the world on a deeper level and finds out the frightening fact that the world is brutal in its power to betray. The people of the first world described know this too, but they opt out by living on some kind of superficial or safe level. Their guardedness protects them. These people would not appreciate “Rolling in the Deep,”—or if they did, they would blame the speaker for being so unwise.

I am interested in this, because I think I am a person who lives in the second type of world described by Auden. I agree that being sensitive and conscious of what is happening around you often leads to being unhappy, unsuccessful in love, and feeling out of place in company. But I am worried about this, because being disillusioned once, as the speaker of “Rolling in the Deep” has been, can make one see only the faults of others, or lose confidence in their ability to give joy or to convert. I have been tempted by this thought this week as I have wrestled with understanding encounters I have recently had with a few people of my acquaintance. I will not, of course, mention names or specifics; that would be inappropriate and unhelpful. It is enough to know that I have being experiencing the vicissitudes of disappointment and anger these past three weeks, and that this has overflowed into my prayer. Lines like “I have no love for half-hearted men” (Psalm 119:113) and “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and saves the crushed in spirit" (Psalm 34:18) have been helpful at this time, because they recognize the human experience of sorrow, anger, and disappointment—the elements of a broken heart.

While I sat with these lines from scripture I came to think that, indeed, the Lord is close to the brokenhearted, because God has had plenty of experiences with having his heart broken, so to speak. In fact, one way of interpreting the song that I find helpful (especially when viewing the music video) is to imagine that the singer is none other than God (in feminine form) singing to the world. This more angry and sorrowful image of God is familiar to us in the stories of the Great Flood, Sodom and Gomorrah, the Ten Plagues, the near-destruction of Nineveh, and Jesus ranting against Tyre and Sidon and other sinful groups who are to be harshly condemned. The images from the video of a ruined mansion, a huge pile of broken dishes, a model of a city skyline being torched—all symbolically externalize the singer's sorrow and anger, thereby playing similar roles as images of the empty Garden of Eden, the silent, inundated world during the Great Flood, the toppled Tower of Babel, the smoking, wasted mess of Sodom—images I wager people do not often sit with, since they can be horrifying.

Indeed, these images normally horrify me, but I was meditating on the God of the Great Flood this week as I sat with my anger and disappointment and I remember thinking as I prayed in my anger that I could finally relate to that image, because I realized the God of the Great Flood is not merely angry, but disappointed—even brokenhearted. We humans, after all, can be petty, selfish, disrespectful, stupid, vain, and oblivious little creatures. We betray all the time, and take advantage of mercy. The Flood was God’s great stand against that betrayal.

So often, I think Christians think that they have to reject their negative emotions, deny that they get angry, or are hurt beyond what a simple apology can mend. We get the idea that the Christian thing to do is to become a doormat for others to walk all over us. After all, did not Jesus say to Peter that he had to forgive not seven times, but seven times seventy? (Matt 18:22). This story, added to the long list of other citations I could make related to forgiveness and love, especially the forgiveness prayer Jesus prays while on cross, demand a taxing amount of virtue in the face of betrayal and sin.

But I don't think that the process of forgiveness and mercy is supposed to feel easy or nice. In fact, confronting the depth of the impact of another person's sinfulness on us can be a kind of psychic crucifixion. Mercy—the clemency we hope to show in imitation of the Messiah—hurts, too, because it can be a long process, a continuation of that psychic crucifixion, and one that opens you up to being hurt all over again. No wonder so many hold grudges and build emotional walls (the kind the people of the first world described by Auden construct to protect their neat and pretty lives).

But this is where I begin to disagree with Auden. That is, that the people of the second world must necessarily be unhappy because they are sensitive and aware. They will be unhappy at times, but if they are able to go through the crucifixions required of them by charity, they will find happiness--a lasting happiness--not due to the pain, but due to the radical option to love again, and again, and again, which frees them to experience the joy of the people they would ordinarily shut out of their lives.

Take the Parable of the Prodigal Son, as an example. Sure, the story ends seemingly on a good note, but, using creative license, I want to challenge the story teller (Jesus), and ask "But what happened next?" I'm not convinced that the younger son was completely reformed, nor do I believe the self-righteous older brother was changed by his father's words. They probably went on being two bratty ingrates who plagued their poor father's heart out--and yet, I am sure that the father never stopped choosing to love them. He suffered much from this love, but I am sure he had the reward of actually experiencing love and communion--something that people embittered with disappointment and twisted by anger cannot do in the isolation of their condition.

Am I saying that people should just "choose to be happy"? Well, that sounds incredibly naive. And am I saying the speaker of "Rolling in the Deep" should have forgiven her betrayer and taken him back? That sounds like a perpetuation of an abusive situation, which would be wrong. What I am saying is, as I think God has shown, true and lasting and life-changing love is rooted in vulnerability, and so it opens one up to pain. While we're enduring the pain--the real fire and fever of anger and disappointment, it may do us good to sit with the God of the Deluge, but we must remember that it was that same God who spared a family and allowed the human race to go on. He's more the God of the Ark than he is the God of the Flood. His willingness to suffer on our account in order to keep us in relationship with him is the greatest instruction to us on how we are to act if we hope to rise out of our disappointments and moments of anger and sorrow to experience love and happiness again.

Br. Paul, OP

Collins, James. "Fanny was Right: Jane Austen as Moral Guide," A Truth Universally Acknowledged: 33 Great Writers on Why We Read Jane Austen. Susannah Carson, ed. New York: Random House, 2009.

Rolling in the Deep:A Reflection, Part I

2011-05-11T21:18:00.000-04:00

The image to the left is from the music video of "Rolling in the Deep" by Adele. I first heard this powerful song about a month ago, but was reminded of it on Tuesday evening when it was featured on the television sitcom Glee. I've been listening to the song all week, and so I thought I would do both a literary analysis of the lyrics and a theological reflection on it. Why? It has given me much food for thought in my prayer this week. If you would like to listen to the song, CLICK HERE for a link to the YouTube video.

Part I, Literary Analysis:
Literary analysis goes line by line, if not word by word, so I'll begin at the very beginning, which is, of course, the title.

1) "Rolling in the Deep"--to be honest, when I first learned what the words of the title were, I did not understand what they meant apart from the context of the rest of the song. In other words, "Rolling in the Deep" is not a common phrase for me, but given the images from the video, and other words in the song, I think the phrase is a way of saying "being well-off" or "affluent." If I'm wrong, please correct me.

2) "There's a fire starting in my heart/Reaching a fever pitch and it's bringing me out the dark"--so begins the song. At this point, it's too early to get the full import of these words. Nevertheless, we understand that emotion is escalating for the speaker, symbolized by the image of a "fire" "starting," but then "reaching a fever pitch." This fire is not just a symbol of emotion, as in the concept of "heat" or "fever" as a metaphor for "anger," because the fire also is bringing the speaker "out the dark." It is, therefore, a metaphor for enlightenment, also, if we take "darkness" as a metaphor for "ignorance."

3) "Finally, I can see you crystal clear,/Go ahead and sell me out and I'll lay your ship bare,/See how I'll leave with every piece of you,/Don't underestimate the things that I will do." In this stanza the speaker makes clear who her audience is--it's a particular subject (not herself, not the generic listeners, etc.) The "you" is someone specific, and we can take it to be a singular person. Again, the first line of this stanza, "Finally, I can see you crystal clear," is packed with meaning and metaphor. The word "finally" implies that this journey to her present enlightenment has been a long one--perhaps the consequence of a much longer period of deception (during the relationship) and a period of confusion and sorrow (initially after the break up). Now, however, the speaker can "see [her audience] crystal clear"--sight being another metaphor for enlightenment. What is the consequence of "seeing," that is "understanding"--disillusionment. She now understands her audience as an enemy threatening her, so she proceeds to threaten back, which is what the three last lines of this stanza are all about. The first, "Go ahead and sell me out and I'll lay your ship bare" is a tit for tat threat, which puts the blame on the person she is speaking to. The next "I'll leave with every piece of you" is a claim of power, the key words being "every piece of you"--"every" leaving nothing for her audience. The last line, "Don't underestimate the things that I will do," is chillingly ambiguous, but it is also revealing: ought the listener to the song suspect that the speaker's audience was in the habit of "underestimating" her? That their whole relationship dynamic was based on abusive manipulation from the audience against the speaker? If the speaker had been passive in the past, due to her ignorance of her former beloved's malice, she is passive no longer.

4) "There's a fire staring in my heart,/Reaching a fever pitch and it's bringing me out the dark"--a repeat of the first two lines. Now the listeners have a much better idea of what the speaker means by "fire," "fever pitch," and "dark." The speaker is evidently angry, and has made a resolution not to be a victim.

5) "The scars of your love remind me of us,/They keep me thinking that we almost had it all,/The scars of your love, they leave me breathless,/I can't help feeling..." This is the introduction to the climatic refrain of the song, and I think repetition is effectively used to build up to that climax. The metaphor of "scars" is a strong one, as it is jarringly applied to "your love." Someone whose love leaves scars is clearly an abusive lover. The use of the words "your," "me," "us" show the breakdown of the relationship. The speaker is recalling the days when she and her audience were one. She is sitting in the past, and what makes it hard for her is the realization that "we almost had it all." This past relationship was not completely bad, then. Her anger about the past seems to be based on the fact that things might have been very good--she thinks she nearly tasted perfect happiness--but it was all taken away. Disappointed hope, the result of something her audience did; the speaker is blaming him. "They leave me breathless,"--an ambiguous phrase, since being left "breathless" can be a positive experience. Still, "breathless" is extreme, showing that whatever she is feeling--a mix of good and bad, perhaps--she is feeling it to the utmost.

6) "We could have had it all,/(You're gonna wish you never had met me),/Rolling in the Deep,/(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep),/You had my heart inside of your hand, (You're gonna wish you never had met me),/And you played it to the beat,/(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)"--So goes the climatic refrain and hymn from a broken and angry heart. The speaker repeats her accusation to her audience that they "could have had it all...rolling in the deep," while a chorus of voices sings the ominous line "You're gonna wish you never had met me." The two levels of emotion are playing out at the same time: the bitterness over missed opportunity and the angry intent to get revenge. "You had my heart inside of your hand...and you played it to the beat." The speaker claims innocence in these lines. She had been generous and open with her heart, which she gave to her beloved, but the image of her heart in his hand being played to the beat indicates vulnerability and violation. He used her, thus the voices in the background sing "tears are gonna fall"--but not the speaker's. She has finished crying. It is her betrayer who is going to cry.

7) "Baby, I have no story to be told,/But I've heard one on you and I'm gonna make your head burn,/Think of me in the depths of your despair,/Make a home down there as mine sure won't be shared"--a new threat from the speaker against her audience. She has knowledge about something related to her former beloved which she can use against him. "I'm gonna make your head burn" and "depths of your despair" are images of pain that the speaker blatantly apply to her audience. There seems to be a shift from threat of potential action to one of promised action. "Make a home down there"--there being a negative place, perhaps an allusion to hell--"as mine sure won't be shared," the revelation that the speaker has barred her former beloved from her "home" forever, "home" being a metaphor for her life, for intimacy/communion. Loud and clear she is saying that she is done and over with him.

8) The intro to the refrain and the refrain are repeated, with one interesting change that may or may not have been intended. Instead of saying "But you played it with a beat" as earlier, the speaker says "But you played it with a beating." "Played it with a beat" is a music line with ambiguous negative connotations in the context of the song. When the word "beat" becomes "beating" there's a sharp escalation of violent imagery, another indicator that the lover has hurt the speaker greatly through betrayal.

9) "Throw your soul through every open door,/Count your blessings to find what you look for,/Turn my sorrow into treasured gold,/You'll pay me back in kind and reap just what you've sown." I confess that I find this stanza a little tricky. The lines are intriguing, but too ambiguous for me. "Throw your soul through every open door," may reference, generally, opportunity. I might even see it as a reference to demonic possession, given Jesus' use of the metaphor of "house" for the human person [in connection with demon possession](Luke 11:24-26). "Count your blessings to find what you look for" seems like an ancient riddle with a moral bent (to get what you want, realize what you have). "Turn my sorrow into treasured gold," is a fascinating ironic statement hinging on the callous spirit of the speaker's audience. It says that he is heartless enough to enjoy or benefit from her pain, but then the next line "You'll pay me back in kind and reap just what you've sown" turns the table. The speaker declares that just as her betrayer enjoyed her pain, she is going to enjoy his. The only difference is the betrayer is reaping what he sowed. Her voice is the voice of justice.

10) The introduction to the refrain and the refrain are repeated twice, the repetition emphasizing her anthem. The song concludes with the lines: "But you played it [her heart],/You played it,/You played it,/You played it to the beat." Again, repetition for dramatic effect.

In part two of this reflection on "Rolling in the Deep," I do a theological reflection of the song, connecting it with issues I have been sitting with in prayer.
Br. Paul, OP

CLICK HERE to watch the YouTube video of the song.

A Time of Transition

2011-05-09T09:36:00.004-04:00

The shelves of the two bookcases in my room are nearly empty--save for the Summa in three volumes, the Jewish Study Bible, some folders, and a few holy relics. My pictures and flags are down from the walls, my novels are all stowed away...it's a time of transition...one of many in a number I have already experienced as a friar of the Order of Preachers. Our home is wherever we are--but we move around a lot.

Today in my class on the second part of the Summa, I will present my paper "'No Greater Love': Whether Friendship in Marriage is the Highest Form of Friendship," and with that complete my Masters in Theology degree program. On Friday, I will graduate from Aquinas Institute of Theology.

These past two semesters have been exciting and challenging ones. Applying for my next graduate program while trying to write a thesis and study for a comprehensive exam, on top of regular school work and community life, was a heavy load to bear. Not to mention the added stress of trying to maintain meaningful relationships with God and friends, as well as my relationship with myself. I find that now that I have a great deal of free time, I am lucky enough to do the things that I enjoy and that are good for me: namely, time spent outdoors in prayer and exercise, study and contemplation. I seem to pray much more easily when I am walking in nature--but that's true for most people, I suspect.

What am I reading these days, now that I can read what I want? An excellent collection of essays entitled: A Truth Universally Acknowledged: 33 Great Writers on Why We Read Jane Austen. Holy Father Dominic was known for either speaking to God or about God. Similarly, I am either reading the words of Jane Austen or reading about the words of Jane Austen.

...But back to my transition. On Friday I graduate, on Saturday I will witness the ordinations of three of my fellow friars, on Sunday I will celebrate with the other graduates, and on Tuesday, I will leave the House of Studies here in St. Louis and begin my life at St. Pius V Priory--the mother house for my province--in Chicago. There's more...on June 8th, I will profess solemn vows, making a lifelong commitment to God, to the Order of Preachers, to the friars of my province, and to myself. It is major event that has been five years in the making (nearly thirty, if you include everything up until now).

This is not a reflection post, however; I am writing just to share news...

In July, I will travel to Montreal, Quebec for a language immersion program for French at the University of Montreal. And, in September, I will begin a Masters in Writing and Publishing program at DePaul University. I will possibly begin teaching at Fenwick High School a year later--both English and theology.

Change. Transition. Not least of the transitions will be moving from my identity as a simply professed student brother to a solemnly professed cooperator brother done with initial formation. In other words, I'll be "all grow'd up!" in some ways, and can begin to see myself as a permanent member of my religious community, complete with voting powers.

Fortunately, I have the next few days of relative freedom ahead of me to continue my rest, my prayer, my exercise, and my greater availability to others around me. I can breathe a little more freely before plunging into the next phase of my Dominican life.
Please keep me in your payers,
Br. Paul, OP~

Be not afraid! Persuasion's surprising message

2011-05-02T14:41:00.005-04:00

"Jesus said: Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to set out for Galilee; there they will see me, alleluia."

So runs the third antiphon for vespers these days. As I sang it with the brothers and our guests last Saturday evening, it hit me that this was the answer, albeit an unexpected one, to a question posed during this morning's book club meeting on Jane Austen's novel Persuasion. During that gathering one of the members of the group said something like, "I'm not sure what she [Austen] is trying to tell us." When he said this, I did not have an answer. Although I have read Persuasion at least three times now, I have not sat with it in the same way that I have Mansfield Park. Indeed, I admitted toward the end of the meeting that I do not particularly like this last of Austen's completed novels. I find the plot and its heroine uninspiring--granting, of course, that Anne is a saintly young lady, and Austen paints some of her most vivid pictures of family life in this story.

As I continued to sit with what was said at the meeting, reflecting on it in prayer, I came to the realization that Austen, like Jesus [and certainly Blessed John Paul II] was trying to convey the astounding message of "Be not afraid." I think this message is only discernible if readers of Persuasion are able to realize just how difficult and frightening life for Anne Elliot is at times. First, her beloved mother is dead. Second, her father is a idiotic dandy with no truth depth of feeling, and certainly no real paternal love for Anne. Third, Anne's eldest sister Elizabeth is a selfish, hateful, and proud young lady. Her sister Mary is equally selfish, with the added annoyance of being a hypochondriac. Although Anne has Lady Russell as her friend, the friendship cannot completely negate the message of hate sent to Anne by her relatives. Thus we read:

"She [Anne] played a great deal better than either of the Miss Musgroves, but having no voice, no knowledge of the harp, and no fond parents to sit by and fancy themselves delighted, her performance was little thought of, only out of civility, or to refresh the others, as she was well aware. She knew that when she played she was giving pleasure only to herself; but this was no new sensation. Excepting one short period of her life, she had never, since the age of fourteen, never since the loss of her dear mother, known the happiness of being listened to, or encouraged by any just appreciation or real taste. In music she had been always used to feel alone in the world..." (chapter six).

This is a frightening evaluation of Anne's family situation. It speaks to the feeling of neglect, alienation, underappreciation, and deep sadness. It says that, generally, Anne feels unloved and unnoticed. This is the great irony of the novel--considering Anne is shown to be the most loving and worthy of love of all of the Elliot family. Indeed, the novel is fairly divided between the people who understand Anne's worth and those who do not. But this sad situation is not Anne's fearful condition alone. Her sisters, Elizabeth and Mary, both also labor under the weight of this lack of love. Elizabeth copes with it through her vain efforts to maintain appearances and to gain a husband. Mary deals with it by trying to manipulate others into loving her by fancying herself sick all the time. In the end, neither Elizabeth nor Mary are lovable or really loved, because they never show genuine love toward others. The curse of the influence of their father is that they do not know how to love.

The main plot question related to the romance between Captain Wentworth and Anne ties into this greater problem perfectly. Anne is a good woman in a desperate situation. Doomed to live under the abusive eyes of her father and sister Elizabeth, or the obnoxious nagging and whining of her sister Mary, Anne has only one real hope of escape: marriage. Anne is not a marriage-at-any-cost kind of heroine, however; she is not foolish enough to leave one bad situation for a potentially worse one (marriage to a man who does not love her). Instead, she pines for the only man who has ever really loved her--Captain Wentworth.

Well...she does more than pine, and there is certainly more to Anne than just her lost love. In the face of grim disappointment, both in family and in romance, Anne is able to persevere in the virtuous life without becoming jaded or despairing. There is an unspoken source of grace for her (her Christian faith) that guides her forward, protecting her from the negative influence of those around her--and supporting her even while the people of her social circle continuously disappoint her.

I think, therefore, a high sense of Grace is active in Austen's last completed novel, along with Providence (which is mentioned directly in the text). This grace is not a source of easy fixes, but it does provide consolation in trials, and it guides the virtuous person onward, away from sin. I would argue that Anne is carried through the novel in the hands of God, which allows her to exemplify the three theological virtues (faith, hope, and love) so thoroughly. Be not afraid, God says to her, and one has a sense that she has assented to that command with all her heart and so has her reward in the end.
Br. Paul, OP

The Supernatural, yet Human Gift: An Easter Message

2011-04-23T12:08:00.017-04:00

The question of whether or not Jesus' death actually could do anything for anyone else was a key question for me seven or eight years ago, just after I had graduated from college and before I discerned my vocation to the Order of Preachers. I was having a crisis of faith, torn between atheism on the one side and the allurement of a simpler monotheistic theology on the other (like that in Judaism or Islam). At the heart of it all was the question of Jesus. Was he really divine and the savior of the world? Could one person's death actually do anything for anyone else?

To the disappointment of atheists and to the annoyance, perhaps, of Jews and Muslims and members of other faiths, Christians do not claim that faith in Jesus' divinity or in the saving power of his death is something that comes easy, as if the mystery of Jesus' life and death was something glaringly obvious and simple to understand. Indeed, it can seem down right foolish, as St. Paul declares: "For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, God decided, through the foolishness of our proclamation, to save those who believe. For Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For God's foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God's weakness is stronger than human strength," (1 Cor. 1:21-25). Faith in the saving power of Jesus' death is exactly that--a matter of faith, something you come to believe and trust in because God has helped you to do so.

I can remember the Good Friday of the year I was having my crisis of faith; in particular, I remember turning to God in prayer and asking him point blank to tell me whether or not the Christian narrative was true. Was Jesus really the messiah? Was his death a saving event? The answer I received in prayer that day was a resounding "YES!" To this day I maintain that my faith in Jesus comes from the testimony of the Father that Jesus truly is the beloved Son and Messiah. I admit that a Trinitarian God is a strange concept, and that it would be easier to have a simpler monotheistic theological definition: but that is not God's reality.

The next step in my education was learning--as I have written about many times before--that Jesus is the supreme revelation of God and of humanity. His life, teachings, but especially his Crucifixion reveal the nature of God more than any other word ever could do. With all due respect, multiply the Holy Torah by a million, add thousands of Surahs to the Qur'an and you will not have, in my opinion, anything that compares to the Word Incarnate giving himself up for the redemption of the world. Nothing ever can compare to that self-gift.

It is precisely the concept of the power of self-giving, that is, self-transcending love, or the power of transcending oneself as a way of participating in the life-force of God, that helped me to understand the magnitude of the Crucifixion. If Jesus was only human, his Crucifixion would be a form of political and religious sabotage and victimization on the part of his countrymen. His offering up his death to God as expiation for sinners would be an eloquent manifestation of the great level of holiness that he had attained. How much more does that same death mean and effect since the one who died was the Word of God? How much more does it all mean, given that God was fully in control and working out his purpose despite human wickedness?

The plan of salvation history is the revelation of God and God's nature. Amazingly, Christian revelation declares that God's plan is to save the world--to save even sinners--through love. As St. Paul writes: "For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. Indeed, rarely will anyone die for a righteous person--though perhaps for a good person someone might actually dare to die. But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us. Much more surely then, now that we have been justified by his blood, will we be saved through him from the wrath of God," (Romans 5:6-9).

Of course, there are two related beliefs that one must have for this Christian interpretation of salvation history to matter: 1) a belief in the reality of human sinfulness 2) and the belief that it matters that we sin. We might add to these two a third: the belief that there is divine judgement and an afterlife.

I became highly aware of my own sinfulness yesterday during the Good Friday service. While it is true that I do not violate the Ten Commandments, or any major religious or legal precept generally, that does not mean that I am not sinful; after all, Christian morality is aimed at a much higher standard. Christian morality is aimed at divinity. As Jesus said, "Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect," (Matt. 5:48). My sinfulness is manifested in the lack of self-transcendence in my life, the lack of generosity and love.

The story of Jesus' visit to Saints Martha and Mary of Bethany teaches us a lesson directly related to what I am talking about. Although St. Martha seems to be the one who is self-transcending in love by virtue of her service to Jesus, it is actually St. Mary whose love is self-transcending. Martha's complaints reveal that it is quite possible to be busy about many good and charitable deeds without having perfect charity. Self-transcending love is about action, to be sure, but its primary action is purely the act of love. Mary sitting with Jesus and listening to him--loving him--this reveals a much higher degree of self-transcendence. Had Martha's love been a self-transcending one, she would have seen the whole affair very differently.

I admit that I'm often much more like St. Martha in this, her moment of weakness, than I am like her sister, the glorious, but underappreciated St. Mary. I am busy about many, many things. I worry. I complain. I judge my brothers and sisters. I miss the Lord before me because I've made a lord out of my own desires. My love is little, and terribly confined to my "self," but I am quite capable of maintaining the appearance of righteousness, because I still obey the commandments--just as those hardworking Sadducees and Pharisees did in Jesus' day--but I'm missing the point. I'm not obeying the highest commandment; I'm not living up to Jesus' example or to the graces I received from the Holy Spirit in Baptism, Eucharist, prayer, etc. I am not loving enough.

Not being loving enough or not loving rightly is the cardinal sin. It is what most violates our human nature and makes us seem hideous and demonic rather than sons and daughters of God. It is the most common of sins, and so many people pass it off as simply human nature. Once you buy into the idea that it is human nature to sin, you have rejected Christianity. Sin is not human nature. Sin works against our human nature, pushes away God, and brings upon us countless internal and external evils.

Sin is, therefore, real and it matters very much. The lack of self-transcending love is at the heart of sin. Put differently, not one of us has a licence to hate anyone else. The moment you rationalize hatred, you have rejected the God who is Love (1 John 4:8), in whom there is no darkness at all (1 John 1:5). Christian love must be entirely radical, entirely divine in quality--only then will it be truly human love as it was intended to be. Accordingly, Jesus instructed us to love our enemies and pray for those who hate and persecute us (Matt 5:44); to reject the sword as a way of defending Christianity (Matt 26:52); to merely shake the dust off our shoes when our message is rejected (Matt 10:14); to leave the judging to God (Matt 7:1); to forgive everyone from our hearts every time we are asked for forgiveness (Matt 18:22, 35); to serve all those in most need of care (Matthew 25:31-36).

If, instead, you use Christianity to hate others, to boast against them, to persecute them and to judge them; if you ignore their needs in favor of your own--then your lack of self-transcending love will convict you. Not only do you have no faith, your example actively works against the Holy Faith. Christians work against the faith every time they sin--yes--but especially when they fail to love. There is nothing so scandalous as an unloving, ungenerous Christian. It is like the man in the parable who was forgiven his debts, only to turn around to demand payment from the one who owed him (Matt 18:23-35). If you think I exaggerate, did not St. John write "Now by this we may be sure that we know him, if we obey his commandments. Whoever says, 'I have come to know him,' but does not obey his commandments, is a liar, and in such a person the truth does not exist; but whoever obeys his word, truly in this person the love of God has reached perfection. By this we may be sure that we are in him: whoever says, 'I abide in him,' ought to walk just as he walked," (1 John 2:3-6).

And how did Jesus walk but in the way of self-transcending love? Because this love is self-transcending, it is big--big enough to encompass not only sinners who love him back, but also those who reject and persecute him. Thus he forgave those who put him to death (Luke 23:34).

It was by coming to understand love and how only in Christ Jesus was love ever accurately revealed that my heart was, and is, moved to cry out "My Lord and my God!" in response to his "This is my body," "This is my blood."

Perhaps it is true that it is not so hard to believe what Christianity proclaims so much as to live it. I believe that it is true that there are some people who are seemingly outside the Church that live lives of self-transcending love much closer to that of Jesus than many Christians--precisely because Christians get so caught up in the worship of Jesus that they fail to live like Jesus. It's not enough to say you have faith, St. James declared; you must allow that faith to pour out into activity (James 2:14-18). Indeed, he reminds us that "even the demons believe--and shudder," so right belief is not the sole criterion for salvation. Right action is demanded as well. The action is both simple and difficult: love.

Easier said than done, I know. On the global level I wonder if the days are gone when people can say of Christians: "Look how they love one another," (Tertullian, Apologeticum ch. 39, 7)? The Catholic Church has been rocked by scandal; the Anglican Communion at times seems on the brink of collapse; the Protestant Church is divided beyond counting, with many denominations lacking basic apostolic teaching, not to mention the priesthood and sacraments. The Orthodox Churches remain separate from each other and from their Catholic sister church. Heresies like the Jehovah's Witness and Mormon movements, along with mega churches preaching prosperity, present false gospels and people are accepting them despite St. Paul's warning (Gal. 1:8). A house divided will fall (Matt 12:25), and if it were not for Jesus' promise to preserve his Church by remaining with it always (Matt 16:18; Matt 28:20), I would think the Christian Church was going to collapse any day now. And this is only the internal drama. The history of Christian interaction with non-Christians is equally embarrassing and deplorable.

It can seem that "there is not one who does good, no, not one," (Psalm 53:3), and yet, Christ came to save sinners (Mark 2:17)--so his saving plan not only moves forward despite our sins, it has already been accomplished: in the Incarnation, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection, and the Ascension. His triumph was eloquently described in the second reading for Office of Readings this morning, taken from an ancient homily on Holy Saturday. "Something strange is happening..." the reading begins, and like a marvelous Shakespearean monologue the character of the Risen Christ speaks to Adam (to us all) and calls him out of hell into heaven--to the Throne of God, to the bridal chamber, and to the banquet hall, to the treasure houses of good things, to the kingdom of heaven that "has been prepared from all eternity."

The Lord's eager imperative, "Rise!" resounds in my heart. I look forward to the day when he says that to me at the Resurrection, but I hear him say it to me now. As a baptized Christian, as a daily communicant, Jesus' command "Rise!" is none other than the command "Love!" The first and last of every command; the meaning of creation; the definition of divinity and humanity--the All in All summed up in one word. Indeed, the darkness will fight against love's light, but it will not prevail (John 1:5). This is the power of transcendent love--there's absolutely no way to win against it, because even killing the person who manifests it only releases it into the world--in the space of things seen and unseen--a shock wave of grace that obliterates what is evil, transforms the sinful and saturates the already good with holiness.

When Christ offered himself for the redemption of creation while dying on the Cross, and when he actually died with that prayer in his sacred heart, he destroyed once and for all the false definition of love that had entered the world. The grace released by his testimony to transcendent love is still changing the world, converting hearts, and leading the dead to new life. May the love of God in Christ and the Spirit overwhelm us this Easter! May it lead to a new and everlasting Pentecost! May it end our wars, heal our planet, unite all people, and bring God's kingdom to fulfillment!
Br. Paul, OP

Anonymous Saints & British Catholic Emancipation 1829

2011-04-13T21:56:00.006-04:00

“En vérité je vous le dis, parmi les enfants des femmes, il n’en a pas surgi de plus grand que Jean-Baptiste; et cependant, le plus petit dans le Royaume des Cieux est plus grand que lui.”

I was continuing my prayer with the Gospel of Matthew today in French, when I came upon this very familiar passage in which the Messiah pays this very curious compliment to St. John the Baptist--declaring him to be the greatest of the men born of women (humbling excluding himself), and yet revealing that the least in the Kingdom of Heaven is greater than John.

I am sure that there are many ways to interpret the Lord's words on this point, but I chose to connect what Yeshua says to today's special anniversary. On this day in 1829, Catholics of the United Kingdom were granted full emancipation. This was the end of legal restrictions against them which made it basically illegal to be Catholic. Early measures had already given Catholics the right to serve in the military, and the freedom to have Mass publicly, but Emancipation completed this process, allowing, among other things, Catholics to serve in parliament. In my mind, this anniversary is for British Catholics what the Civil Rights movement is for African Americans. It is on my mind, of course, because the thesis I recently defended is about the late Georgian and early Victorian Eras (1779-1850)--the time of Catholic Emancipation.

I relate Matthew 11:11 to Catholic Emancipation, because there are so many unsung heroes and heroines of English Catholicism of this time period. Among them are the wealthy Catholic families who harbored priests on their estates and facilitated Mass for the local Catholics. Lay men like Robert Edward Petre, 9th Baron of Petre, who used his influence to push for Catholic Emancipation. And certainly holy religious and clergy like Bishop Richard Challoner (pictured above), who worked tirelessly, and undercover, to care for his Catholic brothers and sisters. (Among other things, Challoner is responsible for the retranslation of the Douay-Rheims English Bible. He wrote much more, including catechetical works and a very popular manual for spirituality.) This is not to mention the countless Catholic lay men and women of the working class and poor who remained faithful to their Catholic heritage despite so many oppressive measures placed upon them.

Perhaps it is people like these anonymous saints, the less obvious giants of Christian faith, that tower above St. John and the like, precisely because their crosses were hidden to the world. I only ponder this because of Yeshua's use of the term "least."

The message seems clear: People who are "great" on earth, may be truly "great," but the Kingdom of Heaven has different criteria for greatness. Maybe our classic art has misled us by having St. John the Baptist and the Blessed Virgin Mary always next to the Messiah King in Heaven. Perhaps the real people on his left and on his right are people we've never heard of, or those we never would suspect would be there.

Either way, I celebrated Catholic Emancipation today, and I honor those men and women who kept the faith alive. May their names be honored forever.
P~

Jane Eyre: That Other Jane

2011-04-07T09:55:00.005-04:00

In the attic lives a woman who laughs the world to scorn. A victim of the phallocratic hegemony, a patriarchal tribe that sees her as Yeshua ben Sira saw his daughters,--"a loss" (Sirach 22:3b); "headstrong" and "impudent"(26:10-11); "an anxiety" (42:9). Bertha Mason was born to set the whole world ablaze; so she starts by burning down Thornfield Hall. Mr. Rochester is only a man, after all. But then there's Jane. That other Jane...

Last weekend, I went with two other friars and two friends to see the new Jane Eyre film by Focus Features, the same company that released Pride and Prejudice, starring Kiera Knightley, in 2005. If you watch P&P before you go and see Jane Eyre you immediately get a sense of the shift in the tone of British life from Austen's experience of the Regency Period to that of Charlotte Bronte during the Victorian Era. The Regency is lighter, happier, and more playful. A good ball with country dance music is just the trick to make these folks flirtatious. In contrast, the clothes are darker and heavier with the Victorians. Some folks look like resurrected Puritans. Religion is a favorite subject for them. The world has gotten serious. And why wouldn't it? It was changing rapidly. The American and French Revolutions had Europe on edge. War and industry, the booming of urban life and the destruction of the country living Austen knew so well--combined with a renewed interest in religious reform. The 18th Century gave birth to a rather uptight and serious child in the 19th. But hadn't Austen warned us about this in Mansfield Park?

Yet, Jane Eyre, the character, is a light in that darkness. Remarkably, despite the hideous abuses she experiences at the hands of her aunt and cousins, and later the religious tyrant of the boarding school she is exiled to, Jane Eyre triumphantly remains centered in an unshakable belief in her own innate worth. She is bold, yes; but not impudent. An anxiety to those who wish to control her, but a marvel to those who listen to her wisdom. Like Bertha, Jane struggles against the conventions that seek to destroy her spirit; but unlike Bertha, Jane fights with words.

In a glorious speech Jane declares:
"Do you think I can stay to become nothing to you? Do you think I am an automaton? --a machine without feelings? and can bear to have my morsel of bread snatched from my lips, and my drop of living water dashed from my cup? Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! -- I have as much soul as you, -- and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you. I am not talking to you now through the medium of custom, conventionalities, nor even of mortal flesh; -- it is my spirit that addresses your spirit; just as if both had passed through the grave, and we stood at God's feet, equal, -- as we are!"

This strange Victorian novel, the work of a strange Victorian woman, is one of my favorite novels of all precisely because I read it as a declaration of the innate dignity of human beings, particularly women who continue to suffer from the sexism and androcentrism of men, including the voices of important men from our Christian tradition. Men like ben Sira, but also St. Paul, Tertullian, and St. Augustine who wrote things like:

"Let a woman learn in silence with full submission. I permit no woman to teach or to have authority over a man; she is to keep silent. For Adam was formed first, then Eve; and Adam was not deceived, but the woman was deceived and became a transgressor. Yet she will be saved through childbearing." (1 Tim 2:11-15)

"Do you not realize that you are each an Eve? The curse of God on this sex of yours lives on even in our times. Guilty, you must bear its hardship. You are the devil’s gateway; you desecrated the fatal tree; you first betrayed the law of God; you softened up with your cajoling words the one against whom the devil could not prevail by force. All too easily you destroyed the image of God, Adam. You are the one who deserved death, and yet it was the Son of God who had to die." (Tertullian)

"Woman does not possess the image of God in herself, but only when taken together with the male who is her head, so that the whole substance is one image. But when she is assigned the role as helpmate, a function that pertains to her alone, then she is not the image of God. But as far as the man is concerned, he is by himself alone the image of God just as fully and completely as when he and the woman are joined together into one." (Augustine)

Both Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte are strong Christian women who defy the sexist traditions within Christianity and Western culture. Denied the pulpit, they preach through their novels by telling the stories of women. Jane Eyre and Lucy Snowe, Fanny Price and Anne Elliot, these are models of virtuous living and images of Christ's redeeming work. Although articulated in different ways, both Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte join Mary Wollstonecraft in vindicating the rights of women--but more than that, they join in the liberating work of Jesus Christ in whom there is no male or female, insofar as we mean superior and inferior (something St. Paul, with all due respect, ought to have pondered more).
Br. Paul, OP
*Please keep in mind that this blog posting exhibits one of my typical traits: over-statement to begin a conversation. By no means ought readers to think this represents my complete thoughts on the issues presented above.

My Anglican Adventure and a General Update

2011-03-27T14:22:00.003-04:00

This morning, I visited Christ Church Cathedral, the Episcopal cathedral of St. Louis. My study of Anglicanism, as part of my research for my thesis, had me itching to attend an Episcopalian service again. I was hoping for a high church service, but the one I attended was rather low. A female priest presided, with two deacons as helpers, and another priest for the preacher. A small band of faithful were gathered--very small, actually--as well as a few people just sitting in to get out of the cold.

I wanted to give a little update, since I have not posted in a couple of weeks. I have complete the comprehensive examination required for my theology degree, and am now awaiting the results. I will present and defend my thesis on Friday, April 8th, so that's the major project in my lap these days. Once that is done, I can look forward to graduation in May.

I will soon be petitioning for solemn vows (vows for life). The chapter of my community will meet to vote on my petition, and I will find out if I have been approved soon after. This is a very important step in my vocation, and I have received confirmation from the Holy Spirit that I should proceed forward. I continue to realize that a vocation is a work of grace, and not something I merely choose to do.

I have been accepted to DePaul University's MA program in Writing and Publishing and St. Louis University's MA program in English. I am currently discerning which program would best fit me and the goals I have for teaching as a ministry.

Last, but not least, I have been rereading Jane Austen's novel Persuasion. It is the book club novel for April/May. Although I have read it several times before, and am very familiar with the story, I am reading it with new eyes, and have my questions for Anne, the heroine, as well as for Jane herself, the blessed author.

This past week found me very ill with some kind of stomach virus. I am happy to report that my health has been restored. Now it's back to work...

Sabbath Blessings,
Br. Paul, OP

Eve, Emma, and the Power of Language

2011-03-13T14:22:00.003-04:00

Read: Genesis 2:7-9; 3:1-7
[“Ladies and gentlemen, I am ordered by Miss Woodhouse to say, that she waives her right of knowing exactly what you may all be thinking of, and only requires something very entertaining from each of you, in a general way. Here are seven of you, besides myself (who, she is pleased to say, am very entertaining already), and she only demands from each of you, either one thing very clever, be it prose or verse, original or repeated; or two things moderately clever; or three things very dull indeed; and she engages to laugh heartily at them all.”

“Oh! Very well,” exclaimed Miss Bates; “then I need not be uneasy. ‘Three things very dull indeed.’ That will just do for me, you know. I shall be sure to say three dull things as soon as ever I open my mouth, shan’t I?” (looking round with the most good-humoured dependence on everybody’s assent). “Do not you all think I shall?”

Emma could not resist.

“Ah! Ma’am, but there may be a difficulty. Pardon me, but you will be limited as to number—only three at once.”

Miss Bates, deceived by the mock ceremony of her manner, did not immediately catch her meaning; but, when it burst on her, it could not anger, though a slight blush shaowed that it could pain her.

“Ah! Well—to be sure. Yes, I see what she means” (turning to Mr. Knightley), “and I will try to hold my tongue. I must make myself very disagreeable, or she would not have said such a thing to an old friend.”]

I begin, tonight, with this passage from Jane Austen’s novel Emma, because it is the scene of the main character’s “Fall from Grace”. I think Emma’s fall can help us to understand an essential theme to the story we heard from Genesis: namely: Language is powerful. Language creates and it destroys.

At one moment, Frank Churchill was using humorous language to unite people—to create a paradise out of the little circle of friends gathered for a picnic on Box Hill. In the next moment, we see Emma using language to alienate a person—tearing her friend down, only to build herself up. The paradise Frank was trying to create, Emma destroys. “She couldn’t resist.”

In the story from Genesis, God uses the language of love to call into being a beautiful paradise for the two humans to live in. He provides for all of their needs; but then enters this strange character: the serpent. And if we didn’t already get that language was important, we should realize it when we learn this serpent can speak. And with that gift of speech, the serpent immediately sets out to destroy the paradise God has created.

He asks the woman an absurd question: “Did God really tell you not to eat from any of the trees in the garden?”—as if all the natural world is asking this same question…as if it would make sense for God to do such a thing. But Eve is naïve and takes the bate. She says, “No! We’re allowed to each of all of these trees. It’s only of the tree in the middle of the garden that we are forbidden to eat—and that’s only because if we eat or touch that tree’s fruit we’ll die.”

We can tell from Eve’s response that she gets that she lives in paradise. She knows that she is well provided for, and that she believes God loves her.

But then the serpent says: “You certainly will not die! No, God knows well that the moment you eat of it your eyes will be opened and you will be like gods who know what is good and what is evil.” Translation: “You dummy! God doesn’t love you! He lied to you! Who cares if you can eat of all of these trees? They don’t do anything for you! It’s only the fruit in the middle of the garden what we really help you! God’s not taking care of you! He’s oppressing you!”

Through these words, the serpent sows the seed of distrust, and the moment Eve buys into the message, paradise is lost. She can no longer resist the forbidden fruit.

It seems to me that this story is a powerful parable for our lives a community of religious brothers. After all, the Gospel is God respeaking the message of his love in order to recreate paradise for us. Through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, the Holy One has said unequivocally that he loves us, despite everything we do to reject that love. His love is first, is generous, and unchanging—this is the Gospel. All of us here claim to believe the Gospel; we come together to live it; and we all think we’re called to preach it—so why isn’t St. Dominic Priory paradise on earth?

I think it’s because, on a daily basis, we betray the Gospel through inappropriate and malicious speech. We have racism, sexism, and homophobia in our speech. We are boastful, arrogant, and condescending. We gossip about each other, and make jokes at one another’s expenses. We lie. We do all of these things, and, on top of it, we defend ourselves for doing them. We cannot resist.

Unfortunately, Christian communities have been struggling with the destructive force of speech from the beginning. No one talks about this better than St. James. He says:

“So the tongue is only a tiny part of the body, but its boasts are great. Think how small a flame can set fire to a huge forest; the tongue is a flame too. Among all the parts of the body, the tongue is a while wicked world: it infects the whole body; catching fire itself from hell, it sets fire to the whole wheel of creation. Wild animals and birds, reptiles and fish of every kind can all be tamed; but nobody can tame the tongue—it is a pest that will not keep still, full of deadly poison. We use it to bless the Lord and Father, but we also use it to curse people who are made in God’s image: the blessing and curse come out of the same mouth. My brothers, this must be wrong—” (James 3:5-10)

Brothers and sisters, this is wrong.

In his rebuff to Emma, Mr. Knightly explains to Emma that her actions were so wrong, because her words were ungenerous, impolite, and unloving. Furthermore, and importantly, they set a bad example for others. The same is true for all Christians, but especially religious brothers and sisters who claim to believe, live, and preach the Gospel. Shouldn’t we know better? Shouldn’t be love better? Can’t we resist?

These are important questions, precisely because sin echoes. It pollutes; and when we use malicious speech of any kind, rather than declaring the Gospel of God’s love, we declare the message that God doesn’t love us. People receive this message from us, and then spread it to others. Paradise continues to be lost, and the Gospel is silenced.

The Season of Lent, the story from Genesis, and Austen’s novel call upon us to take stock of our use of language. They ask us to ponder the power of language, how it can create, and how it can destroy. And since it is true that we have been made like God, knowing what is good and evil, they challenge us to let our choice for the good be reflected in what we say.
Br. Paul, OP

Lent with the Friars of St. Louis

2011-03-07T23:58:00.003-05:00

Looking for daily reflections for Lent 2011? Check out the relaunch of Preaching Friars, the website of the studentate for the Central Province of St. Albert the Great and the Southern Province of St. Martin de Porres. The student brothers have been working hard to produce video and written reflections for you.

Click HERE to go to the new site.

The Heart of Religious Life: Radical Obedience--A Come and See Reflection

2011-02-27T22:36:00.013-05:00

"As Jesus was setting out on a journey, a man ran up and knelt before him, and asked him, 'Good Rabbi, what must I do to inherit eternal life?' Jesus said to him, 'Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. You know the commandments: You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; You shall not defraud; Honor your father and mother.' The man said to him, 'Rabbi, I have kept all these since my youth.' Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, 'You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.' When the man heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions," (Mark 10:17-22).

If someone were to ask me to pick a passage from scripture that captures my own particular spirituality--one that would explain who I am and why I am living the life of a Dominican cooperator brother, I would have to recite the above passage from Mark's Gospel. It's a passage that I have been living with and have been challenged by, at least, for over thirteen years.

In many ways, I was just like this rich man was when I was sixteen (well, without the "rich" part)--I was eager for my religion, attending services at the Pentecostal Church I once belonged to every weekend, studying my Bible, working hard to do the right thing and be the kind of person God wanted me to be. I was so eager, I could not imagine saving any part of my life for myself, or anybody else. I wanted to surrender myself to God. Not surprisingly, then, when my sixteen-year-old-self read this passage, he took Jesus' words at face value,--I had to find of way of getting rid of all of my possessions so that I could be free to follow Jesus. I understood, what the rich man did not: that life wasn't about anything other than the total giving of self to God.

This realization came at just the time when the Holy Spirit had begun to call me from the Pentecostal tradition to the Catholic Church. I can confidently claim that there are two essential reasons that the Holy Spirit gave to me for converting to Catholicism: 1) The Blessed Sacrament and 2) Religious life. (Given the topic of this reflection, I'll focus on the second.)

My introduction to religious life really came through the story of St. Francis of Assisi. As I read about his conversion experience, his defiant determination to give himself to God, his willingness to have nothing but God alone (and thereby to have everything), I became convinced that I had to become Catholic.

I became Catholic when I was eighteen, and so could have begun my race to God then, but as many eager young men know, early manhood brings with it many distractions--internal and external--and my eagerness for God waned as my contemplative prayer life grew weak. That said, I still made time for prayer in the chapel, and I tried to attend daily Mass as often as I could. Sure enough, despite all the distractions and the noise, God was able to call out to me again. I can still remember sitting in the little chapel at Thomas More College listening to the Gospel passage above and feeling my heart get that funny feeling again--an inner fire blazing up: the fire of love.

You might have thought I would have run to the nearest monastery and surrendered myself then and there, but I didn't. It wouldn't be until two years later that I finally stopped running. This time, I learned the secret to vocational discernment and to religious life--radical obedience.

As any vowed religious brother or sister knows, the root meaning of the word "obedience" is "to listen." You cannot really give yourself to God, in the way that people like Abraham, Moses, Mary, or Francis did, unless you've learned how to listen. After all, once you've said your part, you've got to hear what God has to say. In fact, listening to God is precisely what giving oneself to God is all about. For the rest of your life, no matter what vocation you end up having, what ministry or occupation you do, listening to God is what will move you, define you, and give you joy.

The rich young man's problem was that he was willing to give himself, but he was unwilling to listen to God's directions for how to do so. Again, I was different. On October 7th, 2005, the Feast of Our Lady of the Rosary, I presented myself to God in prayer, and I dedicated myself to him. I told him that my life was his to do with whatever he willed, only, he had to tell me what to do. Then...I listened. I was quiet. And I heard God's two-part reply: First, he told me I needed to look within to see what it was that I most hungered to do.

I listened. I was quiet. I discerned that PREACHING was what I most hungered to do. I wanted to tell other people about God. --But doesn't every vocation in the Catholic Church involve preaching? Preaching doesn't realy narrow anything down.

So I returned to silence. I listened. I was quiet, and God said the name Rose Hawthorne. Rose was a Dominican sister, and is up for canonization. I already knew about her, so it didn't take me long to put "Preaching" together with "Rose Hawthorne" and see that God was leading me to the Order of Preachers, the Dominicans.

I am taking the time to write about these things, because I cannot underscore enough the importance of radical obedience--the self-giving aspect of it, yes; but equally, the listening component grounded in silence and contemplative prayer. I think most people are probably hungry for greater happiness, and most of them want to have a connection with God--to know that he exists and can hear them; but they often resist taking the steps necessary to encounter God. They don't listen. They can't listen, really, because their lives are too filled with noise--either within or without. You're not going to hear God, if you're the one doing all the talking. "Shut up!" is not a nice thing to say to people usually, but in this case, it's the kindest advice I can give.

Recently, I had an image come to mind during prayer that I thought was interesting. It's related to the tension between noise and silence--(and to my last blog entry, in a way). I wondered if heaven would be more like a Handel concert or a night at the dance club--and I wondered which I would prefer, but then the image of a packed sports stadium came to mind,--instead of the usual noises associated with such a place, there was complete and intentional silence. I then connected the image with heaven, imagining everyone sitting in a serene silence, gazing on the Holy Trinity.

In the end, there's one puzzle piece left; one that fits perfectly with the self-giving and with listening, and it's the key to radical obedience: love. In the story about the rich man, Mark includes a telling detail--one that Matthew and Luke do not--and that is that Jesus looked at the man and "loved him." The rich man, however, for all his eagerness, does not really love God, at least, not on the level one might have been expecting, given his eagerness to go the next step in obedience to the Torah.

Mary Henrics, a Catholic mystic, says something which I think helps explain this element to the Gospel story: "When we say to God, that we love him with all our heart, it is often a mere form of words, without truth or meaning. Men learn it when they are young, and they continue to use it when they are grown up, without thinking of what they say. To love God, is to have no other will but his; to keep faithfully his law, and have in abhorrence all violations of it," (Butler's Methodists and Papists, 151).

--The rich man certainly did keep the law faithfully, and probably had an abhorrence for all violations of it, but he didn't love God enough to have no other will but God's, and so he ultimately fails to live with God.

To love God, to listen to God, to give oneself to God--these three things are what radical obedience is all about. And I would argue, they are what the vocation to be a religious brother is all about.

In all this, I do not mean to imply that radical obedience is easy. It isn't. It entails the cultivation of the contemplative life through a balance of noise and silence. It means a person has to develop his or her listening skills, and learn the many different ways of hearing God. And it means a person has to be willing to suffer. It is sometimes God's will that we do bigger and greater things than we ever imagined, but these bigger and greater things, these divine projects, sometimes demand that we stretch ourselves. We not only have to sell everything we have, give to the poor, but we also have to follow Jesus, and this means a cross will be involved. Perhaps the most painful part of carrying this cross is the death of our egos, and the death of our own plans.

Suffering isn't the sum total of the story, and it certainly isn't the story's point, because in exchange for our radical obedience, we gain something very dear to the human experience: happiness. I think the actor Neil Patrick Harris said this best in an article I read in Sky Magazine while on a plane on my way back to St. Louis: "You need to believe in something to be happy. You need to believe in something bigger than yourself, something that transcends you. This gives you hope, and that is part of happiness. Your body needs company, but your soul needs company, too. And that's the company of God. We cannot live without faith, hope and love. If we live only for ourselves, we're not going to be happy."

I am a Dominican cooperator brother, because I choose to be happy, and because I'm wise enough to know that life with God is the source of all lasting happiness.
Br. Paul Byrd, OP

Is Rihanna a Prophetess? How one friar listens to pop music

2011-02-22T22:27:00.004-05:00

On February 18th, the Dominican family celebrated Blessed John of Fiesole--the famous Dominican painter better known as Fra Angelico. I had the honor of being the lector for Office of Readings, and so read the following words quoted within the text from the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy: "The fine arts are rightly classsed among the noblest activities of human genius; this is especially true of religious art and of its highest manifestation, sacred art. By their nature the arts are directed toward expressing in some way the infinite beauty of God in works made by human hands. Their dedication to the increase of the praise and glory of God is more complete, the more exclusively they are devoted to turning human minds devoutly toward God."

I certainly appreciate what the quote is saying, but I pondered if I perfectly agreed with it. I am usually suspicious when people try to define everything rigidly, and classify things into "secular" or "sacred" categories. Furthermore, I have a bias that says artists require absolute freedom of expression, if they hope to really tell us anything about the human experience. God and the church are certainly important aspects of the human experience, but they are in relationship to others parts. The parts make the whole, the holy sanctifies the secular.

So, yes...listening to Handel's Messiah , as I was doing this evening, does seem to make me ponder God and salvation history--a reaction that is utterly predictable, since the operatic voices are singing texts from scripture,--but I would argue that listening to the music of Katy Perry and Rihanna, and dare I say, Lady Gaga, can even lift the soul to contemplation and joy with God.

Take Rihanna's song "Only Girl (in the world)." I could see a Catholic watching the video and being disturbed or disgusted. It's too erotic! She's hardly wearing any clothes! Her song seems individualistic and the video objectifies her body!

When I watch the video and listen to the lyrics, I see those things, too. But for me, they point to something real and valuable--human sexuality, desire for intimacy, the energy of being alive. As I watch, Rihanna takes on the persona of the Shulamite woman in the Song of Songs--the most overtly sexually charged book of the Bible. Rihanna's beauty, her expressions of desire, all fit into the story of the Shulamite woman and her lover. Even the fact that Rihanna is depicted in various places outside reminds me of the nature imagery from the Song of Songs--including allusions in the text to all-night rendez-vous out in the fields. The opening line of the Song of Songs says it all: "Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth, for your love-making is sweeter than wine; delicate is the fragrance of your perfume, your name is an oil poured out, and that is why girls love you."

And that's just one level of interpretation. On another level, I see Rihanna as a symbol of God. She-who-is, who wanders the earth calling humans to love her completely. I think of the imagery around Lady Wisdom in Proverbs, Wisdom, Sirach, etc.--she who is most desirable. As it says: "Wisdom I loved and searched for from my youth; I resolved to have her as my bride, I fell in love with her beauty" (Wisdom 8:1-2). I see the Holy Spirit, powerfully in charge of everything--symbolized by Rihanna's character's ability to control the wind, and her words about power.

--So while no one would classify Rihanna as a prophetess, I think she is trying to say something worth hearing. There's a way that religious people can engage pop culture that isn't merely condemning; if we have eyes to see and ears to hear, and hearts that are open and disposed to contemplate God, nearly anything can lift us up to him,--Handel or Pergolesi, to be sure, but Sara Bareilles and John Mayer, as well.

Aquinas Lecture 2011:"Got Freedom?"

2011-02-15T10:36:00.000-05:00

New Priory Groundbreaking Ceremony with Bishop Rice

2011-02-14T20:32:00.002-05:00

The Dominican friars of St. Louis, along with the faculty of Aquinas Institute, and friends and supporters of the friars, gathered this beautiful chilly morning on the lawn of 3407 Lafayette Ave to formally celebrate the beginning of the renovation and building project that will turn the old Loretto Academy into the new St. Dominic Priory. Bishop Rice, one of the auxiliary bishops for the Archdiocese of St. Louis, was on hand to bless the property and to celebrate with the friars. 30 years of waiting, we hope, is finally paying off.

The priory project has a website! If you would like to learn more, and to see more, visit: http://www.stdominicpriory.com/

Well, I am in the middle of writing my thesis, so I need to get back to work.
Happy Valentine's Day!
Br. Paul Byrd, OP

Genealogy, First American Ancestry, and My Lost Heritage

2011-02-10T11:03:00.006-05:00

If my genealogical research is correct, the ancestors of all four of my grandparents came over to North America before the American Revolution--well, almost all of them. Apparently, some of them had been here long before the Europeans came, but who these First American ancestors of mine are, I have yet to discover.

While all four of my grandparents claim to have First (or Native) American blood, and to have known or heard about ancestors that were actually considered "Indian", none of them has connections to an actual tribe, and none has passed on the tribal culture or heritage. The research I have been doing has not really confirmed the claims to such heritage, as all census records I have come across have declared the people listed to be "White". Where are these "Indian" ancestors of mine--these Cherokee, Mahican, or Delaware men and women? How can they hide so easily? Or is the ancestry really there?

Personally, I believe my grandparents when they say they have First American blood, but that does not alleviate the frustration from the lack of evidence. I could get DNA testing, but that still would not fill in the gaps caused by the breach with the tribal life and culture.

The search for my ancestors has created within me a longing and a sadness, and it has prompted me to meditate on where identity comes from. Many people, I'm sure, are totally unconcerned about where they come from. It is enough for them to be here now, and to know two or three generations back. I, on the other hand, have always felt that knowing these names and places matter. In some way, their lives continue through us--their holiness, for example, blesses us, and their wisdom and strength pass through us.

I may never find the names of my First American ancestors or what tribe they came from, but I'll continue to wonder about them. If anything, the experience has taught me how Anglo-centric I tend to be--reading and studying mainly things produced by the British people. To counter that, I recently checked out two books: Native American Wisdom and American Indian Poetry, a small step toward getting in touch with the spirit of my First American ancestors.

How Contemplation Saved My Life: Preaching Notes for the Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time: Vocation Preaching

2011-01-30T14:34:00.016-05:00

Read: Zephaniah 2:3; 3:12-13, 1 Corinthians 1:26-31, & Matthew 5:1-12a

"Rather, God chose the foolish of the world to shame the wise,
and God chose the weak of the world to shame the strong,
and God chose the lowly and despised of the world,
those who count for nothing,
to reduce to nothing those who are something,
so that no human being might boast before God."

I think the perfect exposition of this passage from First Corinthians can be found in Jane Austen’s novel Mansfield Park. In that story, the main character, Fanny Price, has the seeming misfortune of being born into a very poor family. Things are so bad that Fanny is eventually sent to live with her wealthy relatives at Mansfield Park.

Even before Fanny arrives, her aunts and uncle are busy evaluating her, and they conclude, that since she comes from a poor family, Fanny must be (in the words of St. Paul), foolish, weak, lowly,--in short, someone to be considered as nothing. Accordingly, the family marginalizes Fanny, giving her a cold attic for a bedroom and making her do chores like a servant--thus, treating her like the second class person they consider her to be.

It is not until the end of the novel, when all of the other characters have proven how morally weak they really are through bad habits and very bad decisions that the family at Mansfield Park is able to realize that Fanny Price is the only one among them who is truly good. Her example of virtuous living--in particular, her show of prudence--puts the rest of them to shame, “reducing to nothing those who thought they were something.” Not surprisingly, it is Fanny who sets about healing the family after it has been humbled by scandal, helping it to be what it ought to have been from the beginning.

I mention Mansfield Park not just as a way to explain St. Paul’s words, but because I think my life has several parallels to that of Fanny Price. My father left my family when I was about four years old. Having only one source of income, my family was somewhat poor. The stress of the breakup of her marriage and the demands of raising three kids alone was difficult for my mother, so she needed the help of family. Eventually, I was sent to live with my grandparents and an aunt and uncle. Although I was treated much better than Fanny was, I did sometimes feel like just another mouth to feed. To try and please others, I sought to be quiet and out of the way, which was the beginning of my experiences of contemplation. When I got older, and started proving myself by doing very well in academics, my family started to take notice of me. My deep religiosity marked me as something special, too.

It seems to me that Fanny Price and I share similar difficulties, but we also share the same saving grace—that is, the habit of Contemplation. What is contemplation? It’s the ability that people have to be still, to cultivate silence, to ponder important questions, and to listen to and to even look at God. These are not academic terms, or rigid rules,--contemplation really is just an experience of God that happens when one is open.

Readers of Mansfield Park get a glimpse of Fanny’s contemplative life** when she comments on the beauty of a starry night. She says:
“Here’s harmony! Here’s repose! Here’s what may leave all painting and all music behind, and what poetry can only attempt to describe! Here’s what may tranquillise every care, and lift the heart to rapture! When I look out on such a night as this, I feel as if there could be neither wickedness nor sorrow in the world; and there certainly would be less of both if the sublimity of Nature were more attended to, and people were carried more out of themselves by contemplating such a scene.” (chapter 11)

These are the words of a contemplative. You can tell, because in one thought, Fanny connects several things together: the beauty and bigness of nature, the problem of evil in the world, and the human need to be “carried more out of themselves”. Being “carried out of oneself” is the end result of contemplation. It is what allows a person to realize the connection between the self, nature, other people, and God. And, as Fanny implies, it leads to the moral life: the life of beatitude described in Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. That is to say, contemplation facilitates a life centered on the love of God and the love of neighbor, because it grants the contemplative person the proper perspective on life.

I would argue that contemplation saved Fanny’s life, and it saved mine, not merely because it taught me how to live the virtuous life, but because the experience of God had in contemplation refuted those negative messages I sometimes received from others and the world. The experience of God absolutely denies the idea that any of us is foolish, is weak, is lowly, or is nothing. Rather, God claims us as his beloved, his darling, his spouse. Indeed, in contemplative prayer, Jesus has told me more than once that his love for me is not tame. His is a passionate love,--a love that he is willing to suffer for. This, he has already proven through the Cross.

I tell you all this as a way of explaining how it was that a poor, little Pentecostal boy from Covington, KY grew up to be a Catholic and a Dominican cooperator brother. Nothing is as central to my journey of faith and to my vocation as a Dominican as contemplative prayer. Contemplative prayer not only saved my life, it has taught me what life is really all about, which is: abandoning oneself to God, going where he wants you to go, doing what he wants you to do. Everything is secondary to walking with God, but you can only walk with God if you allow him to be with you and speak to you.

Given all that I have said, it should come as no surprise that I ended up joining the Dominican Order of Preachers, a religious order rooted in the contemplative way of life. I am here* this weekend to invite any young men and women who are discerning God’s calling for them to consider looking at the Dominicans. For the young men, in particular, I invite them to come learn more about us at the Come and See weekend the Central Province is hosting in St. Louis, MO the last weekend of February. This three day event is the perfect way to get a feel for what life as a religious brother is all about.

All that said, it’s important for all of us here to know that the contemplative life is not a special calling for the chosen few. Contemplation is part of the vocation we all share as baptized Christians, because, as I said earlier, contemplation is the way that we come to see God. And by seeing him, we know him. By knowing him, we love him. And by loving him, we come to be just like him. The very thing we were always intended to be.
Br. Paul Byrd, OP

*This preaching was delivered at St. Paul's Catholic Community, Bloomington, Indiana (parish for Indiana University)

**Read more about Fanny Price and contemplation in chapter five of Sarah Emsley's book Jane Austen's Philosophy of the Virtues.

New Year, New Semester, and a Sad Change

2011-01-19T23:11:00.013-05:00

The fact that we don't have morning prayer together on Thursdays (with the idea that brothers could have one day a week to really sleep in), always makes me think that Wednesday nights are "free nights", nights to stay up late and do fun things. Add to this theory, the fact that it's snowing fairly hard outside here in St. Louis tonight, and you have the perfect atmosphere for getting me to finally face the blank page of my blog and begin to write.

At first, I stayed away as a break. I wanted to enter into Advent freely and quietly. I did this by reading the fifth, sixth, and seventh chapters of St. Matthew's Gospel (the Sermon on the Mount)every day. The Sermon on the Mount is the reason I first fell in love with Jesus. His words convinced me that he was a rabbi with the truth. It was only later that the connection between Jesus' preaching and his saving death became more apparent and enlightening for me--the rabbi became the Messiah.

Then, Advent ended and Christmas came. I stayed away then, because I simply needed some time to experience life, not just write about it. I went home [to Kentucky] the day after Christmas, as is traditional for the student brothers of my province. I had two wonderful weeks with family and friends--lots of good food, good conversation, and even a second trip to the Kentucky Holy Land. This time, I went to visit Pleasant Hill, Kentucky, the site of a former Shaker village. The Shakers had some strange theology, but they had beautifully simple looking architecture and a very practical, utilitarian sense of space, both of which appeal to me. I am so happy that the people of Lexington saved this village from destruction after all the Shakers there had died off. The village is a testimony to a particular, if peculiar, chapter of Christian history in Kentucky.

I also visited Cincinnati's National Underground Railroad Freedom Center, which I enjoyed.

I then returned to St. Louis and was all ready for a retreat at the motherhouse of the Springfield Dominican Sisters when I received a phone call I had been dreading. I was informed by one of my brothers that my maternal grandfather had passed away. (His picture is above.) My grandfather's death is the first major death that I have ever experienced. Although I have encountered death in ministry, this was the first time that I ever had to grapple with the mystery at such a close range. I'm still processing the experience.

I have now returned to St. Louis and have begun the first week of classes. I am taking three courses. Two of my courses are on specific areas of the canon of scripture, the Torah (aka, the first five books of the Bible) and the Wisdom Literature (Proverbs, Qoheleth [Ecclesiastes], Ben Sira [Ecclesiasticus or Sirach], Wisdom, Song of Songs, selections from the Psalms, and Job). The third course is on the second part of St. Thomas Aquinas' masterpiece the Summa.

I fully intend to keep blogging, but it's been a slow period for inspiration. I hope the semester will get me energized to write more soon.
Until then,
Br. Paul, OP

Joyful Longing, by Br. John-Chrysostom, OP

2010-12-08T07:16:00.002-05:00

The warmest of greetings to the readers of Br. Paul’s blog. My brother and sister Christians, we constantly wait in hope for the coming of our Savior, but we do so now, in this time of Advent, in a most significant way for we know that the Lord’s arrival is at hand. In an obvious way we prepare to celebrate and remember the historical coming of Christ with the great feast of Christmas. The Nativity of the Lord is a time of joy, peace, and impending salvation. It is most fitting that we celebrate this most merry occasion of commemoration. Perhaps less obvious is the waiting and preparing for Christ’s triumphant return. What separates Christians from all other religious traditions is our belief that the world’s Savior has come, and that he will come again in glory. The revelation of Scripture tells us that peace and justice will reign in perfection with Christ’s return. What does this mean for us? What must be done in order to prepare for the return of our King?

Isaiah 40:3 tells us “in the desert prepare the way of the Lord!” The prophet reminds us that this time of waiting is a time of purification and fasting, as well as joyful anticipation. Just as Lent prepares us for Christ’s glorious Passion and Resurrection, so Advent makes us ready for his return. It is then quite fitting that this season is set against the backdrop of the fading light of summer and fall and the growing darkness, stillness, and quiet of winter. The days are growing shorter, and the hours are marked evermore by darkness. It was at a time of spiritual darkness that Jesus entered the world of man so many years ago, and so it will be again. It is not the darkness that should be the focus of our Advent reflections, however. Instead, it is the coming light of resurrection and eternal life that must guide our thoughts and prayers.

The second week of Advent is traditionally known as the week of peace. For the Christian, peace has varied significance. Our world is far to often marked by violence and suffering, so I challenge all Christians to pray especially this week for peace in our troubled world. In a more personal way, let us all pray for inner peace. Society demands of us a high degree of hustle and bustle, but that is not where Christ is to be found. Rather, we read in the first book of Kings that He is in the quiet. With peaceful hearts let us wait for the Lord. Perhaps dedicating a small part of each day to silent reflection will aid us in our pursuit of the Lord.

This Advent season, let us all renew within us a spirit of prayerful waiting and contemplation. Furthermore, may that prayer be distinguished by joy and longing for the promised goodness, justice, and peace of the Kingdom of God.

A special thank you to Br. Paul Byrd for allowing me to write to all of you. I pray that the coming of the Lord will bring joy to you and your loved ones. May the Lord of all grant you a blessed Christmas.

*Br. John-Chrysostom Thomas, OP is a simply professed student brother of the Southern Province of St. Martin de Porres.

Our Lady of Salvation Church Attack/Massacre on 10/31/10 Documentary

2010-12-07T11:11:00.001-05:00

On the last day of my ecclesiology class we were asked to watch this news clip covering the attack on the Church of Our Lady of Salvation in Iraq. Sister Rihab, a Dominican sister and my classmate, lost family in the attack. She asks Christians in the United States not to forget our brothers and sisters in Iraq. Please watch this clip and pray for the people of Iraq, especially our Christian brothers and sisters. Remember these martyrs. May they pray for us, and may their holy deaths for Christ sow the seeds of faith in their beloved country.
Br. Paul, OP

New St. Dominic Priory

2010-11-23T09:32:00.011-05:00

It may not look like much now, what with the boarded up windows, but 3407 Lafayette Ave in St. Louis--former Loretto Academy--is the future home of the new St. Dominic Priory. As some may know, for as long as I have been alive, the Dominican student friars have been living, praying, and studying on the fifth and sixth floors, and in the basement chapel, of Jesuit Hall--3601 Lindell Blvd. To be sure, living in an old hotel with Jesuits has its advantages--there are plenty of elevators, a cafeteria with hot food at every meal hour, good maintenance services, large rooms, and a central location--but there are disadvantages too. The Dominican presence in St. Louis has hardly been noticed. We have been in the city for nearly 30years and many people do not know we are here--even with The Aquinas Institute of Theology.

The friars in St. Louis are hoping that with a new house the community will gain more visibility in the archdiocese that we serve. Besides this, we hope to have a chance to re-envision the way we have been living in community. After all, religious houses are not built like hotels for a reason. A contemplative wants land to walk around on, trees and plants to look at, silence in the halls and in his room, and a chapel that is at the heart of everything. In short--you need a space that promotes community life, prayer and contemplation, and study. This new house offers the student brothers and senior friars of the Central and Southern Provinces the chance to have these kinds of spaces.

There are thirty-three friars living at St. Dominic Priory, with an additional four friars living at a smaller priory elsewhere in the city. The majority of them (twenty-three) are students studying at Aquinas Institute of Theology (usually called AI). Two of those students, myself included, are cooperator brothers, the rest are cleric brothers studying for the priesthood. Among the senior friars you have a mixture of ministries. Several are professors at AI or Kenrick Seminary, one is a canon lawyer for the archdiocese, two are itinerant preachers for Food for the Poor, and most of them help out with parish ministry around the city and beyond.

If you would like to help our community in its efforts to move from this huge hotel to a proper priory, then please keep the Central and Southern Provinces in your prayers. And please consider making a donation to the renovation campaign. Your contribution is not just a contribution to the restoration of a building, it's an investment in religious life, the formation and education of future priests and brothers of the Church, and the Dominican mission of preaching for the salvation of souls.

Donations may be sent to:
Dominicans of St. Albert the Great Province
2005 South Ashland Avenue
Chicago, Illinois, 60608-2905
with the memo: Renovation Campaign/New St. Dominic Priory
email at: provinceoffice@domcentral.org
Call: 312-243-0011
Fax: 312-829-8471

I give you thanks for your prayers and any donation you may be able to give. I can't underscore enough what a dream-come-true it is for the Dominican friars of St. Louis to finally be getting a home of our own so that we can better serve the people of St. Louis while living the religious life as it is understood by the Order of Preachers.
Br. Paul, OP
PS: The orginal building will be converted into the personal rooms of the friars and a few offices. The chapel will be restored for prayer and mass, while the chapel undercroft will become the house library space and guest rooms. An additional wing will have to be added on for the community's kitchen, dinning room, meeting room, and common room.

Christ the King preaching

2010-11-22T02:51:00.001-05:00

Thanks for Nothing, Emily Bronte!

2010-11-12T11:05:00.001-05:00

Today I travel to Columbia, Missouri where tomorrow I will take the GRE Literature in English subject test. As part of my last ditch efforts to prepare for this impossible exam, I was reading through the ever-helpful Norton Anthology of Poetry and came across this rather morose poem by Emily Bronte:

"Hope"

Hope was but a timid friend--
She sat without my grated den
Watching how my fate would tend
Even as selfish-hearted men.

She was cruel in her fear.
Through the bars, one dreary day,
I looked out to see her there
And she turned her face away!

Like a false guard false watch keeping
Still in strife she whispered peace;
She would sing while I was weeping,
If I listened, she would cease.

False she was, and unrelenting.
When my last joys strewed the ground
Even Sorrow saw repenting
Those sad relics scattered round;

Hope--whose whisper would have given
Balm to all that frenzied pain--
Stretched her wings and soared to heaven;
Went--and ne'er returned again!
E.B.

Fortunately, the poetry of Walt Whitman was not far off, and the "Song of Myself" cheered my "drooping spirit".

Wish me luck/pray for me (and the other test-takers)!
Br. Paul, OP

Feeding Two Birds with One Hand: Praying with Emily Dickinson

2010-11-05T20:04:00.010-04:00

I suspect Emily Dickinson, one of the great poets of the United States, would appreciate my translation of that barbaric saying, "killing two birds with one stone". I was visiting with Sister Emily, as I take the liberty of calling her, this evening during vespers and Eucharistic Adoration. Well, in truth, I was reading back and forth through this fantastic anthology of Christian poetry entitled A Sacrifice of Praise. I began with John Donne (whose sonnets I love now), moved to Milton, then Spenser and Thomas Moore--using their poems as meditation inspiration and studying for the GRE at the same time, hence, feeding two birds with one hand.

After a brief pause and some silent prayer, something told me to look up Dickinson. What I then read was true food for the soul, so I thought I would share the poem I liked best with you all.

"Then I am Ready to Go [poem # 279]

Tie the Strings of my Life, My Lord,
Then, I am ready to go!
Just a look at the Horses--
Rapid! That will do!

Put me in on the firmest side--
So I shall never fall--
For we must ride to the Judgment--
And it's partly, down Hill--

But never I mind the steepest--
And never I mind the Sea--
Held fast in Everlasting Race--
By my own Choice, and Thee--

Goodbye to the Life I used to live--
And the World I used to know--
And kiss the Hills, for me, just once--
Then--I am ready to go!"

I think the attitude and the subject speak to the Pentecostal in me. I grew up hearing things like "this old world ain't gonna stand much longer" and "you better be ready. Jesus is gonna come like a thief in the night." Far from being a scary or negative thing, the Second Coming and the End of the World were joyful events, as they signalled the fulfillment of Christian hope, and were the path to full understanding.

This poem testifies to the longing of the Christian heart, and so preaches to us, as we prepare for the coming of the Feast of Christ the King and Advent, to remember that really and truly Jesus is coming back, and we are called to be "ready to go!"
Br. Paul, OP

(I also enjoyed "I Should Have Been Too Glad" [poem # 313] and "That I Did Always Love" [poem # 549].)

Novena to Venerable Samuel Mazzuchelli, OP

2010-11-04T14:59:00.004-04:00

Today begins the novena for the beatification of Venerable Father Samuel Mazzuchelli, an Italian missionary priest who worked so hard to establish and maintain Catholic Christian communities in what is now known as the Midwest. Please join the Dominican family in praying for the beatification of this holy man, and please pray for all those seeking miracles through his intercession. (To learn more about Father Samuel, click HERE.)

The novena prayer is:
Lord Jesus,
you called your servant, Samuel,
even in early youth, to leave home
and all for a Dominican life of charity
in preaching your Holy Gospel.
You gave him abundant graces of Eucharistic love,
devotion to your holy Mother of Sorrows,
and a consuming zeal for souls.
Grant, we beseech you, that his fervent love
and labors for you may become more widely known,
to a fruitful increase of your Mystical Body,
to his exaltation
and to our own constant growth in devoted love of you
Who with the Father and the Holy Spirit
live and reign one God,
world without end.
Amen.

Report any favors through Fr. Samuel's intercession to:
Mazzuchelli Cause
585 County Road Z
Sinsinawa, Wisconsin 53824-9701
608-748-4411 ext 451
mzzuchelli@sinsinawa.org

Br. Paul, OP

We've come a long way

2010-11-03T14:53:00.000-04:00

Beginning this last Saturday, I took on the role of Hebdomidarian. For those who don't know, the hebdomidarian [hebdom for short] is the leader of prayer during the liturgy of the hours. In the case of our community here in St. Louis, the hebdom is in charge of 1) the call to prayer, 2) the reading of scripture after the three psalms are chanted, 3) the leading of the prayers of petition, the Our Father, and the closing prayer, and 4) praying for God's blessing upon the community. In a real sense, the hebdom keeps the liturgy of the hours "moving", and his posture of prayer greatly flavors the tone of prayer for the whole group.

As we celebrate this feast of St. Martin de Porres, the extraordinarily holy cooperator brother, miracle worker, charity giver, mystic...I could not help but to be conscious of how surprised Brother Martin would be to see a cooperator brother playing the role of hebdom like I have been this week. In his day, if I understand correctly, the "lay brothers" had major exemptions from communal prayer. They prayed, for example, the rosary, and did work while the cleric brothers were in chapel.

Of course, like I have said in previous blog posts on the subject, I think that there is a place for such exemptions for cooperator brothers of today. For example, Brother Richard, who is training to be a nurse, just will not be able to be present at prayer and mass given the schedule of the hospital where he works...but when his schedule does allow, Richard is seated in choir with the rest of the friars.

This unity in communal prayer is a big step forward in the understanding of cooperator brothers as being fully and equally consecrated religious with the cleric brothers. This is because the praying of the Divine Office or Liturgy of the Hours is one of the quintessential tasks of consecrated men and women in the Church--it's a way they contribute to the Church's mission to bring the world to salvation. When cooperator brothers pray in choir with the cleric brothers, it shows that they are not mere laborers attached to the community, but men called to this same role of intercessor. Further, when a cooperator brother leads his community in prayer, it rightly preaches the message that all friars are equal, and that friars ought to be relating to one another as fellow religious, not ordained or non-ordained, professor or nurse, etc.*

So, while there is still work to do for the renewal of this wonderful vocation within the Dominican family, I can see that we have come far already in the understanding that those called to be cooperator brothers share a common vocation with their cleric brothers in so far as both vocations are rooted in the consecrated life as vowed religious.
Br. Paul, OP
*The following quote from the General Chapter of Bologna is included in my response to a reader's comment below, but I thought I would include it here to show where this particular thought of mine came from. The General Chapter declared: "Because the Order, by reason of its mission, will always have a greater number of priests, the brother is a witness that we are first of all religious and that what binds us together is not our ordination, but our religious profession. Thus, the brother is at the very core of our fraternity and is a constant reminder that even the ordained members of the Order exercise their ministry as Dominican religious brothers" (136).

Old Lay Brother Habit

2010-10-30T09:56:00.000-04:00

On one of the walls of my bedroom hangs the "old lay brother habit", proudly displayed as a symbol of cooperator brother history. As I prepare the talk I will be giving the Come and See vocation discernment participants, I thought I would just write a little note on this powerful and controversial symbol of the brother vocation.

First of all, which is which? In the picture, the old lay brother habit is on the right. The distinctive features being the black scapular (apron) and capuce (hood). Most depictions of canonized cooperator brothers like St. Martin de Porres, St. Juan Macias, and St. Francis Shoyemon depict them wearing this habit. And when you see depictions of the sea of Dominican saints and blesseds beneath the mantle of the Blessed Mother in heaven, you can spot the brothers only because of this difference in habit.

Most people admire the old lay brother habit, noting the pleasant contrast between the black and white--but this is, officially, a habit not to be worn. After Vatican II, it was decided that all Dominican friars were to wear one common habit to emphasize the unity and equality of the friars. Thus, I have never worn the old lay brother habit as my habit, but merely as a historical costume.

But what do I think about the old habit? Well, I think the only good reason (and it is a good one) to return to the old habit is that it provided visibility to the cooperator brother vocation. Now, because there's no way to tell the difference, people have begun to assume there just aren't any brothers. Having a distinctive habit naturally prompted people to ask questions (i.e. Why is he wearing white, and you're wearing black?) These questions then would allow the message to be spread that there are cooperator brothers and there are cleric brothers--one mission, one order, but different manifestations. The black scapular and capuce could be a vocation promotion tool. If I was going to argue for a return to the brother habit, vocation promotion would be my foundational point.

A lesser point would be just the fact that the old habit gave the brothers something of their own. It was a point of pride and heritage, and this is not such a bad thing either.

Then again, the old habit, for some, is a symbol of all that was wrong with the Order--points I touch upon in my Ottawa reflections. The distinction in habit facilitated a culture of difference and inequality. I respect this argument, but I would counter it by saying the problem wasn't the habit, it was with the brothers (cleric and cooperator) who were building walls of separation where there should have been forums for respecting and celebrating difference.

As I said earlier, I have never worn the old habit as my daily dress, so I cannot speak with any degree of certainty on this topic, but I think the question of reviving the wearing of the brother habit should be discussed (by the cooperator brothers themselves) as the Order seeks ways of reviving the cooperator brother vocation. What once might have been a symbol of inequality could become a symbol of renewal.
Br. Paul, OP

John Donne: The highlight of my day

2010-10-25T22:14:00.001-04:00

As I sat dutifully waiting for my turn to be called forth to be a juror for the 22nd Judicial Circuit Court, I came across an excellent sonnet by John Donne, the 17th Century poet considered by many to be a Protestant saint [his feast day is March 31 on the Anglican and Lutheran calendars]. If this poem is any indication of the depth of his communion with God, then I'm not surprised he has a reputation for holiness. The poem was the highlight of this day of waiting and GRE preparation.

Holy Sonnet 14
By John Donne

Batter my heart, three-person'd God; for you
As yet, but knock; breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
but is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy;
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

Mrs. Inchbald's Simple Story of Manipulation and Power

2010-10-24T07:33:00.000-04:00

A Simple Story is a novel about Catholics, but not Catholicism. Published in 1791, it is of interest today, because it's a rare example of popular English fiction that portrays Catholics in a sympathetic light. Remember, the legal restrictions against practicing Catholicism in England were only just at this time beginning to be repealed through what are known as the Catholic Relief Acts.

Elizabeth Inchbald, contemporary of novelists like Fanny Burney, Maria Edgeworth, and Ann Radcliffe (the generation before the great Jane Austen), belonged to a Catholic family and remained a Catholic her whole life. She was an actress, turned writer, and the influence of her theatre experience is evident in her writing style.

As a Catholic author, Mrs. Inchbald came to the attention of the St. Luke Book Club, and her novel A Simple Story was selected for the November meeting. It was rather difficult to get a hold of a copy through the library, so those who procured copies early read faster, so others could then use them. Thus, I completed rereading this novel on Friday. That's right. I had read this novel before, back in 2005. I can still remember with what delight I read the first portion of the novel, and then with what disdain I completed the reading of the second. What was Mrs. Inchbald thinking? I wondered. Needless to say, the other students in the Denver Publishing Institute program were amused by the vicissitudes of my admiration and disappointment for the novel and its author. Ironically, I found the second half much more interesting this time around.

So what is this "simple story" all about? Well, on one level, this novel certainly fits into the typical genre of novels about morals--that is, exploring/teaching "the right thing to do", making sure that good people are rewarded and bad people are punished--think Richardson's tedious novels Pamela and Clarissa. This second reading, however, let me see more clearly that, on another (related) level, the novel is also about manipulation and the abuse of power.

The two main characters are Mr. (we would say, "Father") Dorriforth, a Catholic priest and his ward, Miss Milner. Mr. Dorriforth was entrusted with Miss Milner's care after her father (Dorriforth's best friend) died. Miss Milner is coming of age, and in that way they had of thinking of things back then, she just had to find a husband. Mr. Dorriforth was eager for that to happen, as well, because, as a priest, he did not relish the idea of having to take care of Miss Milner. Things change, however, when Mr. Dorriforth himself suddenly comes into money and a title. To preserve an English Catholic title and land-holding, he leaves the priesthood, becomes Lord Elmwood and, you guessed it, marries Miss Milner. Theirs was not a happy courtship, and neither is their marriage happy, mainly because of Miss Milner's use of manipulation and Mr. Dorriforth's abuse of power.

Miss Milner is one of those people that thinks it is appropriate to test a person's love. I would paraphrase her reasoning in this way: "If only Lord Elmwood would not forsake me when I do something unseemly, that will prove his love for me." All this goes to show, of course, is that Miss Milner understands what the right thing to do actually is, but chooses not to do it. She does her best to make herself unlovable. She is a beautiful and charming young lady, however, so she's aware of the influence she wields, especially with men. Besides this, she has the idea that it is her right to have power over the man who claims to love her. She must humble him, before she can agree to obey as a wife. This is not to say that she's a completely manipulative character,--but she's conflicted between the desire to have the relationship dynamic with Lord Elmwood that society says she should have, and the one that Elmwood is willing to have with her.

For his part, Lord Elmwood is extremely controlling, conservative, and priggish. He unfairly and unreasonably projects his priggish expectations on his fashionable/worldly young ward without first giving her a viable alternative to her former ideas of how things ought to be. Between Miss Milner and himself, I find Elmwood to be the worst, in the sense that he has no qualms about withholding his love and friendship from people if they disobey him. Nearly every conflict between Elmwood and other characters comes down to his saying something like "if you don't do what I want, then I'll cut you out of my life". Needless to say, the cast of characters that makes up the small circle that surround him (including Mr. Sanford, an older priest, and Miss Woodley, Miss Milner's companion) bow to the pressure. They are, after all, dependent on Elmwood for financial support.

By the end of Part I of the novel, Miss Milner is penitent (for her disobedience and flirting with another man) and Lord Elmwood is moved to forgive her. Just when he was about to abandon her, therefore, he marries her and makes her Lady Elmwood.

In Part II, we learn that where there is no true conversion, there is no lasting change, and Lady Elmwood ends up having an affair with one of her former beaux. Lord Elmwood's absence for three years from his wife and daughter contribute to this sin of Lady Elmwood. The consequences are severe. Lord Elmwood banishes his wife and three year old daughter from the house. Years later, after Lady Elmwood's death (and she dies a penitent), her daughter, Lady Matilda, is permitted to live at one of Elmwood's estates, but under the stipulation that she not be seen by her father. Of course, this bizarre and unjust situation puts everyone on edge. Poor Matilda runs into her father, is exiled from the house (even though it was her father's fault she ran into him), and is eventually kidnapped by Lord Margrave, who wants to use Matilda's precarious social status to take sexual advantage of her. Only when Lord Elmwood learns of his daughter's kidnapping does he come to his senses and rides in to rescue her.

--It's all a bit much, I know, but the second half of the novel is wonderful, if for no other reason than Mrs. Inchbald's ability to create such a polished, pretty, but miserable world for her characters. Lord Elmwood, the dashing, noble young man has warped into a bitter, unsympathetic tyrant. It is wonderful to see how the various characters move under his regime, each wanting to chip away at the walls of his self-righteousness. None does this more boldly than Elmwood's nephew, Henry. Spurred on by his love for cousin Matilda, he risks the displeasure of his uncle and the loss of his fortune to call his uncle out for the cruel way he is treating his daughter. He does this, even though Matilda has not been terribly kind to him (due to her jealousy of her father's attentions to her cousin. She sees him as a rival, he wants to be her savior.)

As I said, however, Elmwood keeps a tight reign on his power, easily dismissing people from his life, and so he does not listen to his nephew. It's only through the mediation of Mr. (Fr.) Sanford that the nephew isn't banished for his boldness. He fairs better than the poor gardener with the large family that is fired for just mentioning the name of the late Lady Elmwood in Lord Elmwood's presence.

In the end, the two generation of characters are contrasted with each other. Henry and Matilda are wholly unlike their counterparts, Dorriforth and Miss Milner, mainly because their primary concern is the welfare of other people. The desire to be worshipped (Milner) and the desire to control (Dorriforth) has been replaced by the desire to love (Henry/Matilda).

Just a note of interest, Inchbald may have influenced Maria Edgeworth's novel Helen, which I am currently reading. Edgeworth includes the same conflict dynamic between a guardian and ward in Helen--this time they're both men. The prudent, well-meaning guardian has to be called out for his tyranny (by the ward), even while it is acknowledge that the ward is flighty and not completely in the right. It's a much quicker resolution, perhaps, because it's a more direct argument about the abuse of power.

For me, I love the depiction of the human struggle against oppression and tyranny. Novels like A Simple Story, The Color Purple, and Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix preach eloquently the way that authority and power can be used to manipulate, control, and destroy other people. Some people will bow to the pressure out of fear, but, importantly, a few noble people will fight and rage against it--sacrificing all in order to restore freedom for themselves and others, and by doing so, establish a social order that facilitates the flourishing of the self. Freedom can be dangerous, because people can choose to do the wrong thing; but power through moral rigidity (as in the case of this novel) can be wrong too, because it can warp the soul, and be used to stifle the human spirit.

What's Inchbald's conclusion (literally)? People need a proper education.
Br. Paul, OP