A LONG Break!

I think it has been nearly a month since writing here! Goodness time does go by much too quickly sometimes!

This interlude has been filled with many events and I know that I can't touch on each of them simply in one post so as a start here is a quick rundown:

-Continuing of school and enjoying it (for most classes) very very deeply! Maybe a "newbie" excitement to those masters of mine in biological studies BUT I was quite excited for the preparation of nutrient agar (jelly-like substance in Petri dishes) and cultivation of bacterial colonies such as Salmonella and my own bacteria found in the pharynx. I am enjoying lab work more and more which is a great source of comfort and affirmation in this career-pathway!

- Having the unique and blessed opportunity to welcome the Holy Father in my birth nation! To be near and close to those faithful awaiting for and with the Pope.  For 3 days I traveled (with Benedict) in the state of Guanajuato to the 3 different cities for the various events.The conclusion of the trip, attending my first ever Papal Mass, was indeed interesting! More on that to come!

- Attending a mission trip to the state of Hidalgo in the small rural community of Cuatolol was a vivid contrast from being so close to the Holy Father a few days prior. One of the many messages from my time there (which were vast and blessed) was this sense of universality and mission of Christ's tangible historicity.  I saw a similarity between those apostles who were called  to reach every corner of the world  (Matthew 28:18-20) after Christ's resurrection and my own much humbler trip to a somewhat remote town in Mexico after the blessed experience of  hearing the words of  reflection/hope from the Holy Father... again, MUCH more to come!

In the meantime, HAPPY EASTER!  I leave the following pictures from a few of the events:

The beautiful amber glow of candles from the people of Cuatolol during the Easter Vigil  Mass

At "Plaza la Paz" near Benedict's arrival Saturday

A Silent Moment

The "glow" is both from the poor quality of my phone camera and the darkness of the place.

             An older gentleman, the caretaker/sacristan of the parish, nearly one year ago now, told me to feel free to stay as much as I'd like in the parish after Mass, showing me a backdoor to use when he locked the main doors. I used this small freedom tonight after Mass.Folks dissipated fairly quickly and soon I was left in relative darkness, in the hallowed space of this rather large parish. And in my prayer, in my solitude and recounting with the Beloved I was reminded of a younger Sofia who also deeply rejoiced "venturing" into the darkness of a parish while her mother attended commitments in the parish in the late evenings (usually choir practice).  I was reminded of a younger Sofia who would eagerly take her mother's set of keys to the parish, carefully go up the stairs (always half-anxious perhaps "breaking in" the parish wouldn't seem like a brilliant idea to her parish priest), nudge the door open, and sit on the carpet, in front of the tabernacle, in front of a wooden Cross that had been there since the 1950's. A space where only the amber glow of candles distinguished the outline of the door she had entered from. And in that memory I shared with Christ, and in my reality I shared with Christ. In my current pew, in the current "newness" of this darkness, in a much bigger parish space I shared with Christ. In this silent moment I was reminded of a loneliness and longing, a missing, to see my family, to see that parish priest, to see that carpet again... and I asked .."How much longer Lord?"....  yet tonight I thanked God for such longing and missing, accepting how human such pain is and with the image above, going with Him a bit more intimately, with more honesty, into this Lenten season.... a wish (and prayer) for all those who read this blog.

"Do You Know What Sofia Means?"

As I vacantly stared at the courtyard of the parish this morning a small hand tugged at my dress.

"Hey, in what classroom are you in? Are you with the Confirmation kids?",  happily asked a little girl (7 or 8 years old) who I had sat next to a few minutes before in the chapel, place where the kids gathered every Saturday morning for prayer.

Smiling at both the question and her great extroverted approach I answered that I was indeed NOT preparing for Confirmation nor was I really IN a classroom.

"I am actually one of the teachers," I admitted, "with the first communion kids.I just started. I help Emi".

"Oh! I am not in that classroom but you know what I'll ask to change, yes, I'll ask to be changed to be with you!," she blurted with joy, nearly giving me a hug.

"What's your name?", she inquired with equal enthusiasm.

"My name is Sofia", I said.

"Ohhh... that's also MY name. Do you know what Sofia means?", she eagerly asked.

"Haha... yes", I began to answer and before my next word was formed she had joined with me...

"It means wisdom", we declared simultaneously.

Little Sofia continued to rejoice deeply in both the coincidence of our shared names and the actual meaning of it, smiling again and again and then wanting a high five. Her response perplexed my own mind and made me ask myself if her reaction arrived from the beautiful innocence kids hold or a deeper grasp of what "wisdom" was to her. It was a curious thing indeed but at the moment I just continued to respond to her with a smile as she continued to rejoice and giggle for a few more seconds.

I knew the strongest motivation (one I prayed about for a few months) for joining the catechetical team at my parish was born from the realization that I needed to grow "deeper roots" in the place I am now. I needed to give myself wholeheartedly to a task that would be fruitful, a task that would require a fair amount from me intellectually and spiritually and in the end, to no longer look "back" in what I wish it were but realize the beautiful potential and blessing of what I was holding. I needed to quite literally hold and touch the things I loved. I knew God was withholding that actual physical touch of my parents, dear friends and other things that still felt "unsettled" in St. Louis perhaps to draw me that much closer those I am called to love, to caress, to share with here. Little Sofia's most immediate and genuine embrace of my person from the simple few minutes we spent together in the chapel was a beautiful sign of God's most tender and sweet watch of this most stubborn daughter of His.

But really, I've continued to ponder Sofia's question since this morning... Do you know what Sofia means?...and in a more sincere respond I'd say to her, "No my dear, I am not exactly certain but I pray to abide somewhat close to its Greek derivative of "wisdom". Wisdom to know my own hidden distortions of truth and inclinations to reach for those distortions, wisdom to know my own vulnerabilities and pains, wisdom to also recognize the Beloved's most sweet and gentle call of love, Wisdom to have the faith and consistency to keep seeking the above forever"

Sofia the Martyr and her 3 daughters: Faith, Hope and Love. This early martyr is still honored in the Eastern Orthodox Church

Eight Months ....

First of all, happy 2012 to anyone that reads this humble space!

Few quick thoughts on this new year:

I'm learning every day (quite literally), learning through experiences, in joys and sorrows, and many other blessings (hidden ones sometimes!) that I am allowed to be part of in what this human experience is. I am just so blessed to be alive! I am blessed to be aware of this and to have the gift of my youth and intelligence to better, to more fully, more radically, more deeply seek Him and thus be MORE alive, to be more authentic; to be more authentically His beloved.


However this post is about a date: eight months. (Over) Eight months ago God led me to this extraordinary place and quite bluntly, forced me on a plane, nearly kicking and screaming. I was afraid, it wasn't what I wanted one bit, it wasn't what I had hoped for, it wasn't what my heart longed for and I froze, back home, at the simple thought it was my reality. One could put a more political/social story-telling of this event that is neither isolated nor unique. We could speak about distribution of wealth, immigration laws between Mexico and the U.S., about myself and others but whatever was going on in the fear before embarking in this journey was something that once I touched ground slowly unfolded into the place I am now and faded into acceptance.

My point being; this is a journey, a messy one that is most incarnate, most human, with laws and people and longings and real tears, real paralyzing fear and real experiences that shape very very real souls. Searching the internet (and old e-mail archives) I found a story I wrote 2 years ago for a blog that still runs about undocumented youth in New York City. It had probably been two years since I had also seen this page but these words from my past self struck me:

I guess I am one of the millions who anguish about the “what will be”.
Currently a junior in high school I try my best to have the confidence that something WILL happen in 2010 and that I will be one of the lucky few that would benefit right away from the Dream Act because of my age. I think about it every single day, I think about me getting closer to 18 and what that means legally...... Like everyone I am just terrified........I can’t imagine going back and leaving this whole life story behind forever since it is my whole life story.

I can certainly still recognize the fear, the instability that it brought to my own sanity and ability to plan future goals. However, it has been over 8 months and I can honestly say that I could have never imaged where I am now, spiritually and also physically, back then. There is something quite interesting in my fear then, something most natural really, I felt a deep deep ownership of the place I was in. I felt it was mine, I loved (love) it deeply and I figured it was most naturally source of identity and of where I was meant to be. The thought I'd leave it was the thought perhaps I would lose who I was and who I wanted to be. Yes, it has been over 8 months of not seeing my parents and sister, and yes, it's a much much longer wait until I see them again. Yes, it has been a semester of NOT being at the American university I desired. Yes, it has been over 8 months of not having the chance to speak with people, to be fully present to them, as I desired to spend this time in my youth in.Yes it has been over 8 months of actively living a reality 2 years ago I didn't foresee.  But really, the journey, these months, approaching a year now, has been of detachment, a painful one and practical one, and growing confidence in God's goodness and wisdom. I take one step, mile by mile, and I realized that my identity, my joy, my ability to love and be loved and perfecting both being loved and this love, is not attached to a place in particular. It is an image of a pilgrim, who only carries with him his pack, and goes on, purely and most honestly, by the great mercy of God.

North St. Louis- Fall 2009, During a St. Louis Youth Leadership Experience

The Little Bride

As I approached Our Lady of Victories parish (my home parish here) Saturday morning for Mass I noticed a large crowd outside dressed in formal attire. Nearing the small island where this parish is located I considered more than twice driving up a few blocks to a nearby adoration chapel instead of venturing into what celebration this could be, but alas, the strong toll of the bells invited me to Calvary.

Much to my surprise (since I had been expecting a wedding, or quinceañera celebration) I saw a little girl in the middle of the aisle waiting nervously to take her place in the wooden kneeler in front of her. I took a seat and was relieved perhaps a first communion would not take nearly as long as what I had feared other celebrations might. 

The Mass unfolded as normally, and I event felt some guilt in wanting to avoid the the more social aspect I thought it would bring. However somewhere between the Homily and the offering of the gifts a beautiful moment occurred. The priest descended from the altar and asked the girl to walk to the entrance of the church with a white flower he handed her from a vase next to the portrait of Our Lady of Guadalupe. As he handed her the flower he told her this was her wedding day and that she'd be walking down the aisle to meet her bridegroom. The little girl smiled and walked up the church doors, and the organ lady suddenly started playing "Here Comes the Bride" as she walked down the aisle. When she approached the priest he asked where her groom was and why he wasn't there. In a half-giggle the girl pointed at the crucifix and mentioned he was there already. The priest smiled in agreement and asked for her to approach Him then. Obediently the little girl walked up a few steps to the cross and then returned to her kneeler. 

As the priest spoke a bit of this little girl's "marriage", I couldn't help but smile and feel a great peace. I was reminded of the Carmelites in St. Louis I know, of the marriage Mass a cousin had over the summer with her now husband... and I even recalled a bit of my own "little" marriage ten years ago. I also grew enthusiastic that in a few minutes I was meeting the bridegroom. The marriage continued, His love continued, despite tears, doubt, joys, and everything else that had occurred in those 10 years.

My first communion at St. Cecilia's Parish (St. Louis) 2001

"I betrothed you to one spouse, that I might present you a chaste virgin to Christ" (Corinthians 2 11:2)

In Between Lycopodiophyta and Equisetophyta

It's been a much much too long of a break! Again, I don't know who really reads this but despite, I've missed writing here! I have much to write about but right now I can only afford a small 5 minute break, between the two terms listed in the title for an exam in 2 hours, golly how I dislike my Taxonomy course!

I was browsing through an conversation I had nearly two years ago with a dear Dominican friar, now also ordained priest and suddenly all the studying I was doing (or should be doing!) felt it could wait for a bit.


Sadly I don't have much time to give more of a retrospective on it years later but it reminded me a lot of a memory, of a time, that for the me two years ago was much too painful and yet I am impressed at the resilience I express in the e-mail, in the resilience I express amidst the pain. I know most surely that this is all through the grace of God, shown by His love and faithfulness for this undeserving young woman since eternity! More thoughts on this and other things very soon (after this exam! :)) but for now here is the bit:

Written on February 13, 2010

Right now I feel fine. In a sense before there was the facade and it "appeared" that we were just great. We seemed like a pretty happy family unit but we/they were broken a long time ago. It's the change of no longer having that shallow infra-structure and change in routine. The change in whatever image we once portrayed. And there is sadness and pain with that, but I think maybe I long for what I wished it were and not what was. But it's fine because otherwise I wouldn't have this to share with Christ, who knows what this will teach me? I think I still need/want to "mourn" a little bit more because he did just move out Thursday but after that then it's time to start again. It's time to re-build.

A Word on Trancendence....

A friend of mine shared with me the video below. It's a simple (and yet beautiful!) clip of a few Dominican friars praying in Washington D.C. the U.S. capital. I had seen this video about a year ago, while still in St. Louis and before actually visiting D.C. myself a few months later.

I was reminded of transcendence in three aspects:

1- The actual beauty of the clip, the solemnity of the instrumentals, the solitary presence of the barren trees in the background, the long black flow of the capuces, the frigid air you can almost feel from simply observing their prayer. The clip has a timelessness, an essence of the depth of prayer and our own solitude, of our own solidarity in prayer, for others, with others.

2-I was reminded of prayer with the Dominicans in St. Louis, of their formation for prayer in the hallway, of their brief chant. I was reminded of snow, of a Thanksgiving reception at their formation house and those same black capuces being present there with the same frigidness as of the clip. I was reminded of a beautiful formality and ritual. A city where a 15-year old Sofia had experienced Gregorian chant with Benedictine monks at a candle-lit All Saints Vigil, where 18-year old Sofia had been blessed to share the anticipation of Christ's arrival in an Easter Vigil with a community of Carmelite sisters shortly before her departure. The video reminded me of a transcendence in my own faith formation in the past and the events in which God had given me obvious consolations and gratitude.

3-I was also reminded that although I appreciated the beauty of the clip, with all of the cinematic aspects that contributed to the sense of transcendence, I recognized a more "raw" transcendence. A raw transcendence in knowing that whatever nostalgia arrived from the clip was truly simply one aspect of the fullness of faith, devotion and truth. I, writing this, am far from the place, culture, climate etc depicted in the video and yet, in the small parish a few blocks away, in the solitude, in the loneliness, lack of structure/formality of religious ceremonies, in the dullness of daily life, in the apparent "disenchantment" I have found a greater honesty with myself. A realization that transcendence is simply an honest desire to relish in God and to be patient enough to allow for it before my own fears/stubbornness/incredibility corrupts that disposition.

Alas, here is the clip, enjoy!

** De Profundis, ("Out of the depths") the title, makes a reference to Psalm 130, and is traditionally sung/prayed when remembering those that have passed away, at least with my experience of prayer with the Dominicans in St. Louis.

Talk of Old Men......

 

 

My grandparents. L-R: Mom's mom & dad's parents

Today (well Sunday) I spent some time having a meal/day together with my grandparents. To say the least, each of them is quite the character! Often while in St. Louis I thought I had greatly missed out in bonding with them as a child and establishing a more solid relationship and memories with them. Although I can never get those 10 years back I don't think it's too late to find out who these people who raised my parents are. In fact, I hold each of them very near my heart, particularly my grandmothers who both have such brilliant stories regarding faith, sacrifice and marriage.

To write about each of them would take probably a few posts but today, something struck me quite loudly about an understanding between them and the people my parents are. To be more specific something struck me between who my grandfather is and who my dad is now.

My grandfather has never been one to claim religion as something for him. It's something quite obvious for anyone who engages in a conversation with him, even if for only 5 minutes. He is hesitant to use the word "God", instead boasting of the the dependance we ought to have in nature, usually by followed by an encouragement to visit the cabin he owns in a nearby town in the woods. He has been this way all his life, working on the trucking business, seeing his kids grow up on weekends between jobs, never stepping a foot in a church unless forced.It's been a whole life of such mentality and conviction regarding religion, God and the Catholic Church. I write this in no sense to be critical or uncharitable, I love him dearly and God has been so good to us as to allow for his health to be so good at nearly 90.

However, as facts stand I've grown to understand a bit more of the background my dad had growing up. The faith arrived from his mother most surely and he never saw his father take an active role in raising them, or an active role as a faith leader .My father is a wonderful man, however I've seen traces of very active criticism for the Church, and a few times flavors of anti-clericalism growing up. After spending the day with my grandfather my dad's faith journey was really hugely highlighted for me.

Again, this is a much much longer story, already so limited by my perspective of daughter. However, as of recent months, year, my dad has shown initiatives in spiritual growth that never in my life had I seen. Compared with the figure my grandfather is, and even most of uncles, it is that much more beautiful and joyful for me. Today, a few hours after seeing my grandfather and politely smiling as he spoke of priests chasing after girls and other similar "pleasant" comments, I received a phone call from my dad in St. Louis sharing with me his enrollment as a future knight in the first meeting of the Knights of Columbus in my home parish and further discernment and enthusiasm with this group.  I could hardly believe what he was telling me over the phone and yet there is a great great hope in me that he can grow in the openness and change of heart I've heard in the past few months. I can only keep encouraging him through words and prayers; in offering up the sadness it is to not have them with me.

What greater gift could I receive than to be able to witness a few hints of my dad's greater receptiveness and openness to God? Isn't that the whole purpose of a Christian life? To love and be loved by God and to respond in this love...  Praised be God for all of it!

Praying with the Jesuits....

One of the many wonderful gifts given to me by really wonderful people back in St. Louis includes Hearts on Fire; Praying with Jesuits. It had been safely kept in my bedside stand for a few months and today, during the couple of hours between the bus journeys and waiting in a government office I started reading (or rather, praying) this book. I was deeply touched by the poetic-style and the utter sincerity of the many wide-ranging Jesuit authors found here.

Although, ideally, the book is meant to be a companionship during the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius (or through a more scheduled prayer schedule attempting to capture their essence) my reading today was, at best, haphazard and random in its selection.

One prayer that particularly caught my eye (and made me honestly examine these past few weeks) was this:

The First Principle and Foundation 

(near the end of the prayer)

"...In every day then, we must hold ourselves in balance
before all of these created gifts insofar as we have a choice
and are not bound by some obligation.

We should not fix our desires on health or sickness,
wealth or poverty, success or failure, a long life or short one.
For everything has the potential of calling us forth in us
a deeper response to our life in God.

Our only desire and our only one choice should be this:
I want and choose what better leads me
to God's deepening his life in me.

-David Flemming S.J. (former provincial of the Missouri Jesuit province)

My thoughts surrounding why this particular prayer (out of the few I reflected on) caught my eye is really a bit of a longer story in its details but at its essence realizing where my love and relationships with others should head. A reminder for today to re-center those worries and concerns in the promise that all is okay if they're placed near Him.

Peace,

The Inside of a Public Bus here in Guadalajara (Google image)

A (Late) Blurb About St. Therese

Okay, Okay, I am about 24 hours late with this post HOWEVER how could I wait another year to ''officially" post on this great saint's feast day?

So for now, we're back to October 1st, not only the start of a great great month (the birthday month of this great woman, month of the rosary, feast day of: St. Francis of Assisi, St. Teresa of Avila, and yes, also the birthday month of yours truly) BUT we get to kick it off remembering an AMAZING young French lady. Needless to say, October is a GREAT month.

I won't write about the biography of St. Therese, for that you can't find multiple sites and her own autobiography (which, I'll admit with guilt I have yet to read though it's one of the multiple books on my shelf), bur rather why I even remember this saint at all.

Although I have yet to read The Story of a Soul I have read another great book called Maurice and Therese: The Story of a Love (the link is a review on it) a few years ago, probably back in middle school or early high school. It was from this read that I first discovered who this great woman was and turned from an icon to a real person filled with as much grandeur and wisdom (I mean, this youngster is a Doctor of the Church!) as with vulnerability and sensitivity.

I was impressed and touched, and although it has been a few years since the read I can still recall feeling a connection with St. Therese at the moment. In this book, a collection of letters between a seminarian and the saint, I found the eagerness to be a little "Therese" for a dear Jesuit seminarian who was helping at my parish. I chuckle a bit now but such goal, for young Sofia, was so genuine, pure and quite zealous!

I, of course, can't think of St. Therese without thinking of countless memories made over a few years with an apostolic community of Carmelites back in St. Louis. They remain so dear in my heart and the icon (and statue) of St. Therese in their recreation room is still the mental image I recall when I think of this great saint.

I pray that I still seek to be a "little" Therese, morphed from my initial new and fresh zealous desire to a more complex understanding of what this saint teaches about faithfulness and deep turmoil. Ah and yet I know I have so much to begin to learn!

Well, happy (late) feast day of St. Therese! St. Therese of the Child Jesus, pray for us!

Peace of Christ,

On Stregth...

My mother. My mother is great. My mother is a great woman, she is the fullness of constancy and sturdiness. My mother is a woman, with all the ties of strength, cleverness, self-sacrifice and many times "bluntness" the word woman can take. She is a powerful thing for her small frame and stature.  She is vibrant and joyful, she is beautiful and reminds ME of what youthfulness, of what happiness is when my sometimes shy, careful, pensive and worried personality impeads this.

Sometimes, particularly back home, I would wonder who again was in her late teens.She has a huge expectation and enthusiasm for things. I am CERTAIN she enjoys a good party/dance (yes, think more like salsa) more than I. I miss her, I miss her greatly.

Her strength amazes me and puts me to shame. In moments I feel so broken and lonely, particularly since the move she is a "commander-like" figure that, in blunt words (she is a sour-sweet mixture), tells me how ungrateful I am being with God, how little I believe in myself and Him while still being humble enough to share her own pains and sadness as an example. Like I said, her strength puts me to shame. Even when I've shared with her dark and sad moments the next day her smile completely lights up the room, never hinting at the turmoil she may have just underwent.

I find a great consolation in the humility that I can learn much from her, and indeed do. I also find consolation in throwing all these worries and weaknesses unto God and Him picking me up as His beloved daughter, well aware of my lack of faith,sadness and fears. None of it matters really.

These two quotes, I believe, do a great job at expressing this sentiment:

Consider all the past as nothing, and say, like David: Now I begin to love my God.
-Saint Francis de Sales

 If we are, in fact, now occupied in good deeds, we should not attribute the strength with which we are doing them to ourselves. We must not count on ourselves, because even if we know what kind of person we are today, we do not know what we will be tomorrow.
-Saint Gregory the Great

Mom and part of the family in a 2009 Chicago Trip-see, look at that smile!

Until Soon! Peace of Christ,

Fears

“If you want to identify me, ask me not where I live, or what I like to eat, or how I comb my hair, but ask me what I am living for, in detail, ask me what I think is keeping me from living fully for the thing I want to live for.”- Thomas Merton


I have been a great fan of Merton for years now. I have read a book of his and his autobiography sits enticingly in my bookshelf in my room (as many other other wonderful books, many are gifts from dear folks! Mm.. maybe blog worthy for later). These past few days a few long term fears (and not so long terms fears) have been presented and even now I sit and wonder without many answers. Partly due to the busy-ness of the week, and long long journeys by bus to school (car broke down), limiting how much or how attentive I have been during prayer.

I could ramble on and on about the specifics but whoever, if there there is indeed audience, wouldn't want to read about that! In summary, in short-term plans I am fear of not seeing my family this Christmas. I am fearful I won't get to speak to a few people (in person) that I have been longing to do for months back. And then, in summary, I am fearful perhaps in all of it I still find a big part of my heart in a place that's so far away and the simple thought I won't get to at least touch/feel/kiss this part of my "heart", even if only for a short visit,brings such pain.

I also fear what this quote is demanding, mainly because I am not entirely certain on what the specifics (or even the basic outline) of what "fully" living would be in the future. What am I living for? How will this be manifested in the future? Surely, I am certain I am living to become Love, and to be best loved by the Beloved and to bring others to that. But this is close a parallel in saying organic molecules have carbon. It doesn't much tell you anything except they're organic and viable to become life. They could be a lipid or a nucleic acid for all I know, extremely different in their purpose and structure but all have carbon. Anyhow, for now, I hope you invisible readers can perhaps find a bit more to the quote than a definition of Organic Chemistry. Until Soon!

Peace of Christ,

A Small Blurb About Meeting the Trinitarians of Mary

Monastery Facade in Guadalajara

The simple entrance above would not hint at a monastery to me, and in fact did not. My meeting with this amazing group of religious was certainly not accidental and yet somehow God-sent. I'll try to be brief as to how I met this group to have a fair amount of time to ramble about how great they are.

Well, it all started with a blog... yes, a blog! Their blog? Nope! I've been a fairly avid blog reader since a few years ago and I came across a blog (that no longer exists) about a woman discerning religious life in California. In one of the many posts this woman posted about another young lady, of only 18, who was entering the Nashville Dominicans (U.S. Congregation) from her parish later that year. I then contacted this young woman, through e-mail and facebook. Her vocation story was really quite lovely and the correspondence in the few months prior to entering was absolutely enriching, and so we continued our correspondence, now through letters to the convent, during my time in St. Louis. Earlier this year, during my participation in the Washington D.C. Pro-life march in an absolutely amazing circumstance (I won't write that story now since it would only make this longer!) I was able to meet her, after months of correspondence, for the first time.

This postulant (now novice I assume) had met the sisters near her hometown in California and in great joy and enthusiasm told me about the community that was also in Mexico, near the border. I kindly told her that Guadalajara was really far away from the border. Returning from D.C. I looked up these sisters and saw that besides the community near the border these sisters just so happened to be located exactly in the heart of Guadalajara. That's it, just two locations in all of Mexico and coincidentally I was traveling to them. The rest is history and to be saved for later! I must however mentioned how incredibly hospitable they are, in my first visit the whole gang gathered around for conversation for an hour and would not let me leave until they brought dinner to me!

Alas, that's bit of the Trinitarians of Mary. Their site is here (although for the past day or so it has been having a few troubles fyi) but rest assured I shall be blogging of them soon enough!

Peace of Christ,

Love and Responsibility

 

Yes, I know i haven't been around lately. I do apologize! School was little crazy this past week!  However, for fun news before I finish up a few blog drafts (yes, I had been writing in the week! Like a true blogger.... well, almost) is the acquisition of this book-->Pope John Paul the II's Love and Responsibility I do thank the Trinitarians of Mary (more on them on later posts) for the lend and look forward to the read!

Until Soon! 

Peace of Christ,

A Change of Pace

Driving home today from school I noticed how different the mere fact I was driving home at night was. It hit me that I was in a city completely different than one I had known for most of my life and that coming "home" to the apartment no one would really be there expecting me (my brother, my apartment-mate, tends to be a busy guy). It was odd, odd to think so relatively quickly I had gone from walking to my high school, of having my parents around every day, of cooking dinner for the family, of Cross-Country meets, of a greater accountability and sense of responsibility, of greater "strings"/attachments, a time of a fairly good amount of structure.


Driving home, and perhaps it was those bright stop lights and some traffic on the way, reminded me ever more of this pilgrimage. I had no idea how this young girl, scared to death of change, was now coming home, just a dark apartment waiting for her (and maybe some ready-to make rice). It felt extremely out of place from what had been before, of what had been always, and ever more lonely and independent than that I would have ever planned or expected.

"God approaches our minds by receding from them. We can never fully know Him if we think of Him as an object of capture, to be fenced in by the enclosure of our own ideas. We know Him better after our minds have let Him go. 


The Lord travels in all directions at once. The Lord arrives from all directions at once. Wherever we are, we find that He has just departed. Wherever we go, we discover that He has just arrived before us.


Our rest can be neither in the beginning of this pursuit, nor in the pursuit itself, nor in its apparent end. For the true end, which is Heaven, is an end without end. It is a totally new dimension, in which we come to rest in the secret that He must arrive at the moment of His departure; His arrival is at every moment and His departure is not fixed in time." 


-Thomas Merton No Man is an Island

Peace of Christ,

"Oh, are you a real Catholic?"

This was the start of a conversation that unfolded today when I picked up a classmate to go to university.

At first I was bit puzzled by his question. I had heard the question "Are you a Catholic?" plenty in high school but I hadn't quite pondered the difference between "Catholic" and "real Catholic". After a few seconds of not answering, he let go of the rosary hanging on my rear-view mirror and continued, "I mean, do you actually believe and go to Mass every week? Or are like most young people that really don't care?"

"Oh," I replied still thinking over the question. I glanced quickly to the side and noticed him staring blankly at the road before us and before I could answer more he continued.

"You know, it's so rare to find people that actually believe anymore.  People that's actually their decision and will and their desire to be Catholic," he wistfully ended.

I left his question unattended until after classes. On the way back a few Gregorian chants from a CD that a dear Dominican friar gave me started playing from my iPod and he joyfully chimed in about the history of Gregorian chant, and its unique 4-note simplicity.

"So you do actually go to Mass?", he asked again.

"Yes, I got at least once a week, and now with afternoon classes I could even go daily if I wanted", I replied with a sincere smile.

"Great, yeah, I usually go about 4 times a week," he answered nonchalantly yet joyfully.

I thought more about his question when I got home. Part of me felt saddened that he thought so few  young people practiced their faith, even if I didn't doubt that was true. However, on that same "sadness" I also realized what great grace this 21-year old held, regardless of the seeming "absence" of others in faith what he believed he adored, and thus it was a most joyful treasure for him and it only took a few minutes to notice this for me.

After further reflection I also began to understand a bit why the separation between "Catholic" and "real Catholic".. or at least this is my own hypothesis on it. I suppose, Mexico, and Guadalajara in particularly, is an extremely extremely "Catholic" city. In the sense that historically, and culturally, it's infused with Catholicism. There are parishes about every 3 blocks, and, particularly downtown, shrines that are across the street from each other. In a sense, it would a shock to not be Catholic, and yet, even amidst this obvious "Catholicity" the reality is its opposite for it's that much easier to neglect and ignore when you no longer recognize the value in what has been around for so long. So yes, I could see how "Are you a real Catholic?" was a very valid question, and, if taken a step further, it really questions upon the faithfulness of our own discipleship. Had this young man meant the latter I am sure I would of had a harder time with my answer.