The (Continuing) Gift of My Youth

Sitting in adoration today, reflecting a bit on part of the homily the priest gave in the Mass preceding the exposition of the Blessed Sacrament, I thanked God for the gift of my high school years. I thanked God not only for the gift to be alive, to have received an education (I do owe so much to St. Louis public education), but more specifically I thanked God for the goodness of those years. Even as I write this now, with barely 8 or 9 months of retrospective, I am aware that my gratitude/knowledge of these years will continue to deepen.

First of all, what do I mean by the "goodness" of those years? Well, I think a good introduction to these ¨"years" was highlighted about a year and a half ago when I visited the Dominican house of formation and a friar (now priest too) commented on a memory he had of me from my middle school years when every Sunday after Mass I`d eagerly and consistently ask apologetic-like faith questions to him and another Jesuit. He had a big smile on his face and mentioned that with such peculiar characteristic I was hard to forget. At the moment I just laughed but I was well aware that I owed much of this ¨"goodness" to God Himself and the people He placed in my path during those years.

High school was, for me, a sort of "dating" of religious life and, to my best attempt, a deepening into a transcendence, a reality, of God's existence in the world.. (in fact, here is a small excerpt from a paper I wrote freshman year about a visit to a Benedictine monastery, that expresses this raw and new "awe" well)

....They chanted with low and deep voices of comfort; quickly I became accustomed. I looked behind me and I stared attentively with awe and silence. A row of beautiful young nuns dressed in habit. A brown veil surrounded their faces while like the flicker of their own candles made their complexion flawless like those of holy saints. With a joy and equal solemnity they stood frozen in time captured in my mind by the glow of my own flickering candle.

I turned, but this time I stared at nothing. It was not an abyss but rather my mind searching within itself. I focused on a crystal window above the ruffled walls. The deep and rich chant continued with its demanding and reverent rhythm.

“♫ Evil bring death to the wicked. 
Those who hate the good doomed 
The Lord ransoms the souls of the servants 
Those who hide in him shall not be condemned ♫”

I listened and at that time I knew I did not understand anything. Everything I knew and did and held and fought for and worried about. Everything I experienced and loved and desired was condensed, compressed in that second. It was compressed in the sound, the thickness of the chant itself. Every thought ended there and yet it emerged from it as well. I began to wonder, as that second passed and the significance expanded from that building upon a direction I didn’t know. I didn’t worry but instead I wrapped myself in every word since I knew this wouldn’t be outside, there society awaited me and this wouldn’t be, not there. Insanity, I recognized reality and I didn’t want to let it go.

For some reason unknown to me, my heart and mind, in those crazy years of high school, were captured wholly into a very honest view of the world and myself within the boundaries of maturity of a 14-18 year-old. And I emphasize (again) that how or why this was touches me deeply. I know full well my ingratitude in prayer to God for this, a grace I've yet to most responsibly penetrated. I have no idea why I wasn't absorbed in the vanities of competitive running (I am a proud graduate of my high school's Cross-Country program), or the competitive spirit of academics (although I was proud to have graduated top 10 of the nearly 500 in my class), or the demand of social activities for Student Counsel (although I deeply enjoyed my post as one of the directors)... or why in the midst of issues like homosexuality, separated parents, immigration disappointments (etc) there was always a graced constancy and hope as well as people (rather blessings!) who became loved companions in the pilgrimage of those "high school" years.

The "goodness" of those high school years perplexes me. My enthusiasm for "nun runs", my huge interest of theology/catechism, my overall blessed and holy experience of those troublesome years, makes me more aware that such "goodness" arrived directly from the goodness and great tenderness of God himself. Sure, call it a somewhat unusual public high school experience but would I have won this neat little award had it been any other way? ;-)

 Before ending this little post I hope that it goes without saying that I by no means imply I was a sort sinless/flawless high schooler. God knows that couldn't be further from the truth! We all have our own "demons" to affront in our journey towards holiness and these were fully and boldly present during those years!

Anyhow here are other wonderful images that further express the "goodness" of those years:

 "Rejoice, O young man, in your youth, and let your heart cheer you in the days of your youth. Walk in the ways of your heart and the sight of your eyes. But know that for all these things God will bring you into judgment. "Ecclesiastes 11:9

Celebrating my 18th Birthday with my parish family (2010)

A quick photo with the Alton Franciscans, group I got to know in my high school years 

(2011)

Joining the Nashville Dominicans at the Pro-Life March (D.C. 2011)

Awkward photo with some great SJ's (2008?)

A "nun look-alike" from a friend. Mine is hidden somewhere and will never come to see the light of day I promise! ;)

Little Ms. Gonzalez and I at a Vocation Summer Camp (2007)

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.

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,

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,