The Thursday From Hell

O.K., so I sent you all in the wrong direction.

In my last blog entry, I asked for your prayers for "smooth flying". That you did, because it really wasn't a bad flight, as turbulence goes. But to get to that moment, ahhhhh, keep reading.

So Wednesday turned out to be a really great "last day in Rome": New Cardinals announced, a nice lunch with some New Jersey Priests who also happened to be visiting Rome, a package left for me at the hotel front desk that I was sure was not going to happen this trip, a visit with the Franciscan Sisters of the Eucharist (who work in a few Vatican offices, including the Internet office), and dinner with Joan Lewis, the Rome bureau chief for EWTN. It was a perfect day, until...... [cue the "Jaws" theme]

Thursday morning I wake up at 6am to pack my luggage, and at 7am go down to pay my bill and get a taxi to the airport for my 10am flight. When the Signora at the desk calls for the cab, she tells me, "There are no taxis today. They're on strike today." I asked her what I can do? She gives me the "Italian shrug" and says that I can get to the airport from the Termini train station in the middle of town. So I grab my bags (thank GOD for the man who invented wheels on the bottom of luggage), and haul it the half mile to a bus stop where I know there's an express bus (meaning only 5 or 6 stops along the way) to Termini. Of course, it's raining this morning, and the water on the marble and cobblestones make me thankful I can ice skate. I used up my bus tickets I keep in reserve (who knew I'd be on a bus this morning?), so all the while I'm on the bus I'm expecting to be busted without a ticket. Why? Because that's the way my morning was going so far. Halfway to the bus stop, I see a cab drive past. I wave, he turns and comes to me, rolls down the window, and asks where I want to go. When I tell him the airport, he tells me he can't because there's a strike today [yeah, thanks for that information]. I ask myself, then why is he driving a cab around town? The answer: to SHOW everyone he's on strike.

At 8:05am, I'm in Termini, ticket in hand and waiting for a train to Fiumicino Airport, which is supposed to come at 8:22. The screen announces it's going to be delayed (I thought everyone raved how Italians have the best train system?). It arrives at 8:30 and gets me to the airport at about 9:05am. Remember, 10am flight.

I get to the terminal from the train station and wait on a line just so they can look at the cover of my passport. I get through that line to get to the Continental check in area. Only nobody is there. Closed. I find a man across the way at a Continental desk, and tell him I need to check in. He gives me a shrug (I think he's related to the lady at the hotel desk), and does what I've learned Italians do: they tell you "no", then make a phone call and do what you ask. He gave me a boarding pass, handed me a temporary luggage check in tag (meaning a piece of paper on a rubber band), tells me to attach it to the bag, and send me back to the check in counter to put it on the conveyor belt. I'm totally convinced this is the last time I'll ever see my bag, but I'm wet, sweaty, and desperate to go home, so I play along. It's now about 9:25am.

Now I get to the airport security. My friends, I now know what purgatory will be like, because I waited what seemed like days while a tour group of American Senior Citizens took their own sweet time taking off belts, shoes, and earrings, to put on through the x-ray machine, all the while chatting about how they loved the gelato they had the night before. I get through the security and wait for the shuttle tram that takes you from the main terminal to the terminal where the gates are located. Time check 9:40am.

By the time the shuttle doors open, I'm in a sprint to the gate. I saw the Continental plane with the doors still wide open, so I knew there was still a glimmer of hope. I spun my way past other gates and saw the most beautiful thing I've ever seen: a long, long line of people still waiting to board my flight. Whewwwwwwwww! Plus, when I walked on the walkway to the plane, I saw one of the Continental employees who checked me at the gate and gave me the manual luggage tag. Maybe she brought my bag with her and put it on the plane? I asked her, she pulled out a PDA, checked my name off, and said everything was o.k., to get on the plane. Those of you who read the blog know I hate flying, but you'll never know how happy I was to step on that big ole' Boeing 767.

By the way, as I said above, it was a pretty smooth flight, so thank you for the prayers.

By 1:55pm Newark time (7:55pm Rome time), we landed in the U.S. I went through customs and down to the baggage carousel and waited, and waited, and waited some more. No bag. They told me to make a claim at the Continental lost baggage area. So I shlump my way on the airport tram to another terminal (along with my poor mother, who I'm sure is convinced that I'm homicidal) to the lost baggage desk, figuring this was an exercise in futility. When I handed the lady my claim ticket, she tells me there's a note on the computer that my bag is still in Rome, didn't make the plane ride, and would be sent on the flight tomorrow (Friday). So, as of now, while I'm home from Rome, my bag decided to spend another day and should be, God willing, flying 36000 feet over Nova Scotia as I'm writing this. Once I get my bag (and all the clothing, souvenirs, pictures of me with the Holy Father, travel books, etc., within it), then the trip will be officially "over".

Last night was also the annual fundraiser/dinner for Life Choices, a local pregnancy aid center. Fr. Benedict Groschel was the featured speaker for the evening. So fresh from my journey home (and strengthened by a Starbucks venti iced skim latte), I got the chance to attend the fundraiser and see Fr. Benedict. If you go by east coast time, my day began at midnight on Thursday and ended about 10pm, with catnaps on the plane along the way.

So how was your Thursday?

Arrivederci, Roma

Tonight is my last night in Rome, and I'm about to head to dinner with a friend. As always, I've been truly blessed by God to have the opportunity to come here so many times. My faith grows a little deeper each time I walk through St. Peter's Basilica or visit the tomb of a Saint (by the way, the Jesuit church, the Gesu, has the head of St. Ignatius of Antioch, today's Saint).

So tomorrow I make my mad dash to the airport, starting at 7am Rome time (1am on the east coast of the U.S.). Please pray for smooth flying, as I become a nervous wreck on airplanes that bump.

NEWSFLASH IN ROME

I just got out of the Holy Father's Wednesday audience. 18 new Cardinals named. Two Americans were named:

• Abp. John Foley, who for years was in Vatican service as the President of the Pontifical Council for Social Communications, and was recently named Pro-Grand Master of the Equestrian order of the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre of Jerusalem.
• Abp. Daniel DiNardo of the Archdiocese of Galveston-Houston. This is the first Cardinal for that Archdiocese and shows the Pope's understanding that Cardinals in the United States have traditionally been bunched in an arch starting by the Great Lakes, heading eastward, and then swooping down the coastline past Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington. Yes, St. Louis and Los Angeles are exceptions to the rule, but now Texas can boast a Cardinal. Do they make Stetsons in scarlet watered-silk?

The Consistory will take place on the Vigil of the Feast of Christ the King. Interestingly, I was here in Rome at the Wednesday General Audience in February of 2006, which was the last time Pope benedict announced new Cardinals. He always waits until I'm in town, hehehe.

Monday Morning in Rome

Monday mornings in Rome, like anyplace else I suppose, are always times of hustling. From midafternoon on Saturday until last night, Rome was quiet (well, as quiet as it can be). Yesterday I concelebrated the Sunday 10:30 "capituar Mass" (let's call it the 'high Mass' because they pull out all the stops when it comes to music, incense, etc.) at the Altar of the Chair in St. Peter's Basilica. The Mass is said in Latin, but the readings were done in Spanish, German, and Italian. The general intercessions were similarly done in 5 different languages. I could certainly celebrate a private Mass on Sunday, but that mass is one of my favorite things to do in Rome, since it epitomizes the "one, holy, Catholic, and apostolic Church" we profess each week. Following the Mass everyone ent outside to listen to the Holy Father's noon Angelus message. First, we received Christ in Holy Communion, then we went outside to hear Christ's Vicar speak to us.

Then a walk to lunch at the Casa Santa Maria, the residence for American priests studying for graduate degrees from the various Roman universities. I'm here in Rome without any travel companions, and I don't mind trying to balance a few languages over meals where I'm staying, but it was nice to be able to eat a meal with other people who spoke English.

Following lunch, I hopped a bus with a mission: I was going to find the hotel that my father and stepmother stayed at on their honeymoon in Rome back in the 70s. The bus took me to the street, and I found a hotel amidst the apartment buildings, but with the wrong name. My guess is that it was the place where they stayed, but the hotel had changed hands. Still, it was nice to walk in a quiet neighborhood for a while.

Deciding to be 'adventurous', rather than do the safe thing and take the same bus back to the city center, I found a local commuter train. Deciding to forget my past experience with commuter trains, I got on this one and finally did something right, thereby removing the disgrace brought by myself upon my family name through my being "transportationally challenged" a few days ago. it left me off at the Piazza del Populo, and from there I walked back, doing as the Romans do in great numbers on a Sunday.

Now it's Monday, and my last few days in Rome begin. The sky is a bright blue, but when I go out I'll bring my umbrella (that will prevent any rain, since it only pours when i forget to bring my umbrella). Ciao!

Roaming in Rome

Yesterday morning began with all good intentions. After Mass at St. Peter's Basilica and a little breakfast, I wanted to visit a hotel that we're considering for a pilgrimage I'm leading here in Rome at the end of next January. The hotel is located north and west of St. Peter's, and in order to save my feet from unneccessary aches, I decided to take a local commuter train. No problem, I go to the station, buy my ticket, and get on the train. But wait... this is taking too long. I shouldn't be on the train this long, should I? Oh Lord, what have I done? But then I felt the train slow down and saw the name of the station, "Aurelia", and realized that's the exit I wanted. Or so I thought.

I looked at my directions, and realized I was supposed to get off at a station called "Appiano", not "Aurelia". Ugh, so when's the next train? What track of the 5 of them do I depart from? I don't know because the computer screens which announce the tracks and trains are all flashing "Data Inaccessible".

[Note: at this point, let out one of those Charlie Brown screams, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhg!"]

Luckily, God was looking out for me. There at the station, standing at a track, I saw a Legionary of Christ. How did I know? The trained ecclesiastical eye can spot them anywhere: double-breasted suit, french cuffs, hair parted on the side, quiet demeanor; it's a "no-brainer". He offered to take me to the map and set me straight. It turns out that, besides getting a ticket to the wrong place (Aurelia instead of Appiano), I got on a regional train rather than a commuter train. I shouldn't have even been looking for "Aurelia", but "Valle Aurelia" (and now I know there is a difference!). He showed me to a bus that would take me back to the Valle Aurelia metro train station, and then disappeared. Which reminds me, I really need to pray for his intentions today.

So I found the hotel, looked around, had a coffee, and walked back towards the Vatican. The hotel brochure said it was a 10 minute walk to the Vatican Museums, and I thought I'd test it. What I discovered was that, maybe if they cleared the roads and allowed a well-trained athlete to sprint it, he might make it there in under 15 minutes. So I found a bus that would do the walking for me, and made my way back in time for lunch.

I had intended to visit the hotel, walk to the subway stop near the Vatican Museums, and check out the Church of "Santa Maria degli Angeli", which was getting work done to it the last time I was here. Instead, all I could do was check out the hotel, which in the end is the main reason I'm here in Rome.

What's the saying, "Man plans and God laughs"? Believe it.

On Benedict and John

First and foremost, to quote Mahalia Jackson, "Oh, happy day!" At the Holy Father's General Audience yesterday, I was able to present him with a copy of "John Paul II for Dummies". I spent the night before rehearsing what I would say (or at least the first sentence or two), but then came the moment he's standing right in front of you and ((boom!)), I go blank. I have no idea what I said. Well, more precisly, I have no idea how what I said to him came out. But since the guards didn't pepper-spray me and the pictures turned out o.k., I must've done well.

On the downside, the cloudy day, the light rain, and the sweat from me being a "man of girth" walking much more than he's used to, meant that I spent the evening coughing and going through a box of Kleenex. So I'll just wait around today to find out whether, besides the book, I gave the Holy Father a cold.

Also, today is the feast of Pope Blessed John XXIII. This morning, his altar in St. Peter's Basilica was lit with extra candles and decorated with flowers. As I said in the last blog entry about St. John Leonardi, one of the great benefits of being in Rome is that you can visit the tombs of the Saints (or, in this case, the Blesseds).

Rome is also a place to practice your languages. The place where I'm staying has visitors from around the world. I've been sitting with two bishops, one from Haiti and the other from St. Lucia. Both speak English, though the bishop from Haiti's first language is French. Yesterday there was a lade from Jerusalem, and before her, two religious brothers from Argentina. This morning, two priests from Holland and two bishops from Brazil were at the table with me. Rome is amazing that way, in reminding you that the Church is not just your parish, or even your diocese.

The War in Rome

The "anti-jetlag" stragtegy didn't work, after going to bed at 10pm, I was up at 1:30am. I finally fell back to sleep at 4am, but then didn't want to wake up for my 6am alarm ring. My "evil twin" turned off the alarm, rather than hit the snooze button, so I missed going to St. Peter's for daily mass. I love doing that every day I'm here, so I was feeling down on myself.

St. Paul talks about the Christian being "at war with one's body", and in Rome I understand exactly where he's coming from:

• My eyes ache from the smog and exhaust that comes from cars and the little motorino scooters. Thank God for eye drops.
• My stomach reminds me how much it loves gelati, pastries, pizza, and just about every other food Italy offers. But I walk about 10 miles a day in Rome, so that takes some of the guilt away.
• My feet give me the biggest battle: They're not used to walking on hard cobblestones, so each day in Rome is a battle with blisters and calluses (sp? or is it "callouses"? "Callusi"? Whatever).

But those Romans, they've been fighting these battles longr than I, and every Farmacia has an asorment of pads and gels to help the traveler. On another topic, today is the feast of St. John Leonardi, the founder of what we know as the Society for the Propagation of the faith, and his body is entombed here in Rome. I'm going to pay a visit in the afternoon. I love that about Rome.

Saluti da Roma!

Yes, I've made it here and found some internet access! I've been essentially awake since 6am Sunday morning and it's now 9pm Rome time as I write this. One more hour and I'll fulfill my personal plan of staying awake the first day to beat the jetlag. If you see another blog entry dated about 4am (rome time) on Tuesday, then you'll know my plan failed.

Rome-ward Bound!

Tonight I depart for Rome on one of these babys: a Boeing 767 jet. The trip is a little mix of business and pleasure. I'm not sure whether I'll be able to blog from the internet cafe that I habituate when I'm in Rome, but I'll try. In the meantime, please pray for nice, smooth flights both to and from Rome.

"Let the [16 year olds] come to me, and do not hinder them"

A seminary friend (and YF reader) let me know about a letter which appeared in the Georgia Bulletin, the newspaper for the Archdiocese of Altanta. I leave you now in the hands of 16 year old Ethan Milukas:

To the Editor:

I am 16 years old, and for the past 11 months I have attended the traditional Latin Mass weekly, while still attending the Novus Ordo Mass during the week. Because of this, I decided to address certain points made by Carroll Sterne in the Sept. 6 edition of The Georgia Bulletin. Mr. Sterne speaks about the type of Mass that someone of a younger generation is drawn to, and I thought that a teenager’s point of view might be helpful.

Mr. Sterne in his letter gives voice to the opinion of many of today’s liturgists when he says that no one from a younger generation would be drawn to the Latin Mass (many take this even further and assume that we would not like a reverent Novus Ordo Mass either). This opinion causes many of those who plan modern liturgies to do veritable back flips in an attempt to draw teenagers and young adults in. Sometimes this works, but it has a side effect: by doing these things, liturgists show that they have absolutely no faith in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass to change the lives of those in my generation. My generation knows about this lack of faith, we are able to see it every time we go to a “teen Mass” and experience priests ad-libbing prayers in an attempt to make them more relevant to us.

This lack of faith backfires; it sends us the message that we also should distrust the power of the liturgy, and it also can turn the Mass into something of a joke.

After experiencing this for months, I attended a Traditional Latin Mass and experienced something that I’d never seen before: Here was a priest who expected my life to be changed without adding anything to the Mass in an attempt to bring this change about. This priest had perfect faith in the power of the liturgy, and it showed. It was beautiful. The traditional Mass did more to change my life then any “relevant” teen Mass ever did.

Rock on, Ethan! First and foremost, find your spirituality within the confines of the Church. But once at the table (meant here either metaphorically or in the sense of coming to the "table of the Lord"; take your pick), don't let others force-feed you something you're not hungry for!

Critics of Summorum Pontificum are quick to point out that, in years past, not every Mass celebrated using the "extraordinary usage of the Roman Rite" (to use the terminology given to us by the Holy Father) was done so with reverence and rubrically correct. This is true. But one can also say (and those who do usually do so with direct, experiential knowledge) that neither has, in years recent, every Mass celebrated using what it now called the "ordinary usage of the Roman Rite" been done with reverence and rubrically correct.

The "dirty little secret", I'm beginning to think, is that many of those who are reluctant to see the "mainstreaming" of the older Mass feel they may be a little responsible for its return. Maybe, in years past, with a little less of the "folk Masses", the "give everybody something to do Masses", and the "let's sit around the coffee table and just be relaxed Masses", and perhaps a little more of the "Gloria in Excelsis Deo" or "Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus, Dominus Deus Sabbaoth", would there be (almost 40 years later) a desire to make "what is old new again"?

New PGN Episode Posted

I've just posted another episode of the radio show that Derek Jeter listens to while he shaves in the morning: Proclaim The Good News. (Well, he might. Are you there when he shaves?)

This episode deals with the "Stem Cell Research Bond Act" being proposed as a public question on the November ballot in the State of New Jersey. If approved, the State would float a $450,000,000 bond (and N.J. taxpayers will repay for years) to fund experimentation with stem cells, including those obtained from the destruction of human beings in their most vulnerable state. I also spoke with a man who was cured of a form of Leukemia, thanks to the use of adult stem cells.

Click on the "PGN Archives" link on the right to listen to the show, or save it to an mp3 player.

Homecoming in Emmitsburg

I apologize to all of you who have been coming to the blog daily, only to find no new entries since last week. We're getting ready for Confirmations here in the parish, my Monday night adult ed class and the Thursday night RCIA class are in full swing, and this past Tuesday and Wednesday I was back at my old seminary, Mount Saint Mary's in Emmitsburg, Maryland, for the annual Priests' alumni Mass and dinner. Add to it my preparations for a trip to Rome I'm taking next week, and you see how I'm a bit frazzled.


Let me talk about the homecoming for a while. There's something about going back to the seminary that I love. No, it's not the fact that I don't have any papers to write or that the faculty can no longer affect my future. It truly recharges my spiritual batteries each time I walk back into the building. The bells tolling every quarter hour, the smell of the seminary chapel (a good smell that comes from layers and layers of incense and candle wax), even the hallways and my class' graduation picture hanging on the wall, all make it special.

Each year the homecoming is the same. A Mass on Tuesday night in the college's chapel, this year celebrated by Bishop William Lori of the Diocese of Bridgeport, CT (seminary class of 1977). The seminary schola was excellent, chanting the Ecce Sacerdos Magnus as the Bishop processed into the chapel. His homily on the guardian angels (the Mass was on their feast day) was a mix of humor and catechesis from the Church Fathers. The full choir loft and the full chapel and the benches in the sanctuary full with seminarians serving the Mass tell me that the Mount continues to do well when it comes to enrollment. Following Mass we had a great dinner, during which I sat with the alumni from the class of 1987. As I approach my 10th anniversary, it was great to sit with men who were in their tenth year of ordination when I was ordained to the Priesthood.

It was a refreshing time, and each year I come home thinking the same thing: I really should visit out there more often!

Fessio Interview Posted

Yes, another radio show posting. What can I say? I've found my groove, the "sweet spot" of the bat, I'm swinging for the bleachers. Enough baseball metaphors? o.k.

As I wrote about in a previous blog entry, I interviewed Fr. Joe Fessio back at the beginning of this month for the radio show that has made me more popular in Germany than David Hasselhoff: Proclaim the Good News. Fr. Fessio has been on the show before, and his insight into the mind of Pope Benedict come from years of friendship as well as discipleship (Papa Ratzinger was Fessio's mentor for his doctoral degree back in the 1970s).

This episode will air on radio stations this weekend, but it is posted now on the Proclaim the Good News Archive page. Click the link on the right.

And Yet Another PGN Episode Posted

I've just posted another episode of the greatest radio show ever produced, Proclaim the Good News. This episode deals with what is being done to reach out to "inactive Catholics", "alienated Catholics", "cultural Catholics", "nonpracticing Catholics" (there are so many sanitized terms nowadays), etc. Let's just say that they are Catholics who don't go to Church. I interviewed one of my predecessors as host of PGN who has a program in his parish that reaches out to such folk, as well as someone from another parish who came back to the Church through a similiar program.

Check it out by clicking the "PGN archives" link on the right side of the screen.

New PGN episode posted

I've just posted this week's episode of Proclaim the Good News, the radio show that Oprah wishes she could host. This week's episode is an interview with the directors of four departments in the Diocese of Metuchen. We talk about how the money generated from the Bishop's Annual Appeal (which kicks off this weekend) helps them to do their work. Check it out by clicking the PGN Archives link on the right.

Whatever It Takes

I'm back from St. Louis and "caught up" on the regular mail, e-mails, and phone calls that amassed in my absence.

St. Louis is an interesting town. The arch, the whole history thing (the Lewis & Clark expedition, Lindbergh's Spirit of St. Louis, "Dewey Defeats Truman", etc.), perhaps the most beautiful cathedral in the United States, AND AS IF THAT WEREN'T ENOUGH, a professional hockey team. What else do I need?

I happened to be in town for the St. Louis Blues' "Fan Day", in which they open up their arena for a day of intra-team scrimmages, autograph sessions with the players, and games for the kids. It was a pretty neat thing, even with the fact that I knew the names of only one or two players on the team's roster! This year, the team is using "Whatever it Takes" as their slogan. It reminded me of one of the first blog entries I put on this site. Like the New Orleans Saints, "Be A Saint", isn't "Whatever it takes" a great follow-up slogan for our spiritual lives and the ever present quest for holiness?


This "Whatever It Takes" is also a great segue into today's feast of St. Matthew. In his Wednesday audience addresses on the Apostles back in 2006, Pope Benedict said this about St. Matthew the Apostle:

Another reflection prompted by the Gospel narrative is that Matthew responds instantly to Jesus' call: "he rose and followed him". The brevity of the sentence clearly highlights Matthew's readiness in responding to the call. For him it meant leaving everything, especially what guaranteed him a reliable source of income, even if it was often unfair and dishonourable. Evidently, Matthew understood that familiarity with Jesus did not permit him to pursue activities of which God disapproved.

The application to the present day is easy to see: it is not permissible today either to be attached to things that are incompatible with the following of Jesus, as is the case with riches dishonestly achieved.

Jesus once said, mincing no words: "If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me" (Mt 19: 21).

This is exactly what Matthew did: he rose and followed him! In this "he rose", it is legitimate to read detachment from a sinful situation and at the same time, a conscious attachment to a new, upright life in communion with Jesus.

Yes, God loves us, created us, calls us to follow him (blah blah blah), but in the end it's up to us to respond to that call. Am I willing to do "whatever it takes" in my response to God's plan for me? "Come, follow me." Yeah, Lord, this week isn't so good. Ooooh, I've got painters coming next week. I'd love to go to confession, really, but now's not a good time.

Be a saint! How? That's easy: Whatever it takes!

Oh, and by the way, to see the Pope's whole discourse on St. Matthew, click here. Or even better, to order a copy of the book of all Pope Benedict's addresses on the apostles, click here.

Pope on a Slope

First, some housekeeping. I'll be away until the middle of next week, so there probably won't be any new entries until then.

The latest issue of "Totus Tuus", the monthly magazine for the postulation of Pope John Paul II's cause for Beatification and Canonization, has a great article about JP2's love for the mountains of Italy's Valle d'Aosta. Two of the photos in the article (taken during his 1989 vacation) are great, and I thought worth showing.

This first one stands out because it's the first one I've seen in which JP2 is not in a cassock. There's plenty of pictures of him out of priestly garb before the papacy, but almost none after he became Pope in 1978. Not that I was questioning whether he actually had legs. He's pictured here during a hike with (on the left) Bishop Alberto Careggio of the Diocese of Ventimiglia-San Remo (where Vale d'Aosta is located), and a mountain guide on his right (no, it's not Karl Rove).

Hey, don't you know that if you write on the wall you'll never get back your security deposit?

Here's something new & original: A blogger comments on 9/11

I've spent the whole day avoiding the computer. Of course I have to write something about the anniversary of 9/11/01, don't I? Everyone else is doing it. My crowds of adoring readers (all four of them) expect it from me, don't they?

The truth is that it's a hard thing to remember. Not that the memories don't come back, but that spending time remembering them is not easy. Last week when I was on my way to Alabama, a former parishioner recognized me in the airport and stopped to say hello. I'll be honest, I had no idea who he was (my previous parish, St. James in Basking Ridge, has about 3,000 families, plus it's been over four years since I left there, so give me some slack). But he remembered me and spoke about how me and the pastor, Msgr. Bill Capik, got the parish through 9/11. Six years later, he sees me and that comes to his mind. I admit, I was speechless. Not because of any false and useless pride, but because the moment he mentioned 9/11, all the memories came back at once.

On September 11, 2001, I had been ordained just over three years, and I was is Parochial Vicar (a.k.a. - "the other Priest") at St. James. I remember having the 8am daily Mass that morning, and though I don't remember the readings for the day, I remember saying something in the homily like, "What will it take for people to come to God? What has to happen in their lives to get them to think about God?" I came back from the Mass and made myself breakfast. There were two guests staying in the house that day, Fr. Guy Selvester and a seminarian (now a priest) named Richard Abourjaily (an Australian). Fr. Guy came into the kitchen and together we watched the smoke coming from the World Trade Center. At first we both thought it was a replay of the 1993 WTC bombing, but we remembered that the bombs at that time were in the basement, not in the towers. After a short time, the telephone rang. The parish secretary said there was some unease among the staff at the parish school. One teacher had a brother who worked in the Trade Center, and parents were calling the school asking about whether they should come and take their children home. Then news of the crash into the Pentagon hit. I spent the day over at the school, where we made the decision to not tell the children. All day long a small TV was on in the school library, and faculty peeked in to get the latest information, all the while trying to keep their emotions from showing in the hallways and classrooms. Cell phones weren't working. Rumors were that Camp David was attacked. The White House was evacuated and the President and leaders of Congress were in secure locations. The TV replayed the plane crashes on a constant loop. Even taking the school kids out for recess was tricky (and it just figured that that day was unseasonably pleasant - you couldn't NOT let them go outside) because the smoke from the towers was visible on the horizon. One school family had a husband who worked at the Trade Center, and the wife insisted on coming in and taking her children home (in her heart she already knew something had happened to her husband). I had just performed the marriage of one of my best friends, and I knew he commuted into Manhattan every day, taking the PATH train to the World Trade Center stop; something can't have happened to him, can it? We made it through the day, the pastor in the parish office handling the phone calls and organizing an evening Mass, and me in the school, trying my best to keep teachers calm (and keep the students anesthetized from the world around them) while it seemed that life as we knew it ended on 9/10/01.

At the end of that day we had a Mass; I don't remember what time it was. Now St. James Church has seating for 800 people (the architects said it could seat 1,000, but that's if my butt cheek on the pew begins right where your butt cheek on the pew ends, and we know people don't squeeze into pews like that). That night the church was the fullest I've ever seen. Full pews. Standing in every available space. Standing in the narthex and spilling down the stairs leading from the parking lot. People hugging, crying, praying. People scared, grieving, unsure about the world. We ran out of Communion Hosts, but no one seemed to care (they understood the crowd was just too big). That night I watched in awe as my pastor gave them something to hold on to. God. I spent the morning opining from the pulpit in the daily Mass chapel, "What would it take for people to find God in there lives?", and by the end of the night he was in the main church pulpit telling them, "You've come looking, and God is here." For the next two weeks, it was amazing: lines for Confessions, people who had been away from the Sacrament for years! Weekend Masses had the crowds we normally only got on Christmas Eve or Easter Sunday. Yes, those crowds went away by Halloween (Rudy Giuliani asked people to go back to living their lives as they normally did before 9/11 and sadly for many that meant dropping weekly Mass once again), but God had answered my question: I now knew precisely what it would take for people to think about their relationship with God.

Names were floating around. Names of people from the town. "Has anyone heard from ___?" "Yeah, he called his wife a few hours ago. He's fine.", or, "No, no one's seen or heard anything about _____.", or, "Have you heard? _______ called his answering machine and left a goodbye message for his wife and kids." The cars still parked in the lot at the Lyons train station at 11pm were eerie. How many people went to work that day and are dead? That night was, and still is, the only time in our 24-hour cable TV world that I've ever seen TV channels (sports, food, etc.) stop all programming and go dark. Eventually Msgr. Capik spoke to a parishioner who had been a grief counselor, and we asked families of those who died to give us a photograph of them. They were put in a display in front of the altar, along with a row of vigil candles, one per person. A woman, a parishioner, shyly asked if we'd put a photo of her grandson up there. He wasn't a parishioner, but he was missing, too, and could we light a candle for him? Of course we did. I went back to the school. How do you explain this to kids? The truth was that I used the kids, especially the young ones. When the grief would hit me and I was about to "lose it", I'd go in to visit the Kindergartners for a laugh and some smiling faces. Eventually we had a list of 11 people who had died (12 with the lady's grandson, but the family was obviously making arrangements nearer to his home). Tim Soulas, Kevin Hannaford, Lou Fersini, Ludwig Piccaro, Tom Reinig, Chris Forsythe, Stacey McGowan, Steve Genovese, David Campbell, Stephen Dimino, and a few others. All stuck in my head. Yeah, some we had never heard from (Newsflash: not every Catholic is a good Catholic), but their families and friends and even strangers were here now, trying to make sense out of it all and looking to us Priests to do so (and all the while we're trying to make sense of it, too!).

Two weeks of death. As a priest, you're prepared for a sad death, a tragic death: a young child, a battle with cancer or something like a heart attack. But even if you, as a Priest, deal with that sort of death, as bad as it is, the funeral is over in an hour and you can "escape it" and get busy with some other aspect of parish life. That wasn't possible in this case. These were all the same: a historic, infamous event on the world stage which saw the murder of innocent people who had young families. 9/11 was not abstract to these people; it was personal. It had a face, a name, a voice, a smile. The terrorists didn't kill "people" on 9/11, they killed Steve, or Tim, or John, or Stacey. Death hung in the air like mist on a humid morning, right at your eye level, and for a while it seemed like there was never going to be that moment during the day when the mist would burn off. Their children. Oh, man. Looking them in the face? The teens and college-aged sons and daughters just stunned with grief. The toddlers too young to know they should be sad, who'll have no memories of their dads. The unborn ones who won't even have any photos or video of them with their fathers to look at when they're older. In those two weeks we had one funeral (with the one body that was recovered), and the rest were memorial Masses (remains of these victims wouldn't start to trickle in until about a year later, as they excavated the rubble and DNA analysis would give the families perhaps a piece of bone to bury). Every day we dealt with large, sad crowds mourning the loss of a loved one or a friend. Every night everyone went home and watched it replayed and analyzed all over again on TV. Then every day we'd all come back and do it all again with another memorial Mass for another tragic death.

Each year since 2001, I remember not just that day, but the weeks afterwards. But there's nothing I could ever say as people said "Thank you", or, like the guy in the airport, "I remember you during those days." I was just as much a mess as you were. Maybe I hid it better, that's all. The pastor of the parish did most of the work with his leadership and his priestly presence. If I did anything, it was because God and Msgr. Capik put me in the situation and gave me what to do or say. In some ways, those days are burned into my memory. Other ways, it's all a blur of one memory overlapping into another. And each year on this date, or when someone asks me about it, the feelings all come back.

Dress For Success

Once upon a time, there was a Pope who really doesn't get to pack his own bags anymore. He doesn't really want to bother anybody or make a big fuss, so he just wears whatever vestment they put out for him when he goes out of town.

Some complain that what he wears is just "too left".

While others complain that what he wears is just "too right".

And then there are times when the clothes just won't cooperate at all!

Poor Heiliger Vater, all this vestment criticism can give a guy a headache!
(photos by AP, Reuters, and the internet)

The Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Yes, today is our mom's birthday, so everyone be sure to talk to her today to wish her a happy birthday. Like any mother, she'll probably give you grief because you don't call more often, and she won't want any fuss being made about her birthday. Also, don't dare ask her how old she is!

Today's feast day is also a special day here in my home diocese of Metuchen. It was ten years ago today, September 8, 1997, that Msgr. Vincent DePaul Breen was ordained and installed as the third Bishop of Metuchen. He came to us from Brooklyn, one of three children in his family (two of the three became Priests). His father worked for the St. Vincent DePaul Society in the Brooklyn diocese, and Bp. Breen would joke that his older brother (Edward) was named for his father, his sister (Irene) was named for his mother, and he (Vincent DePaul) was named for the family business.

His ordination and installation was the first (and still only) time that a bishop of Metuchen was ordained in our cathedral. Before his early retirement due to Alzheimer's Disease in 2001, he ordained ten men to the Priesthood (affectionately called the "Breen-ie Babies"). On May 30, 1998, I was number four.

I once heard him remark that, when he was ordained to the Priesthood, he was the first ordination of a newly ordained auxiliary bishop in Rome. For years, when he'd visit Rome, he would stop in to visit this bishop who ordained him. He was always amazed to see a photograph of him from his ordination day in the bishop's residence, even years later after this bishop had done probably dozens of Priesthood ordinations. That bishop never forgot his first ordinandi, and Bishop Breen would continue that tradition. He ordained a friend of mine, Fr. Guy Selvester, to the Priesthood on September 27, 1997 (the Feast of St. Vincent DePaul), and kept a picture from that ordination for posterity. He said a bishop always remembers the first Priest he ordained.

My first Bishop Breen memory is this: Two of us who would be ordained in 1998, myself and Fr. Paul DaSilva, approached him in the receiving line at the reception at the Pines Manor following his ordination. We introduced ourselves, telling him we were transitional Deacons. Bishop Breen put his arms around us, smiled, and said, "...and you will be my first class? I'm very excited."

Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and may perpetual light shine on him. May he rest in peace.

Card. Schönborn

The Zenit News Service has posted part two of the Cardinal Schönborn interview that I spoke about in the previous blog about Fr. Fessio. It has some beautiful stuff about marriage, family, and openness to children (even how he spent his summer vacation).

Bp. Bootkoski Interview

In my absence down in Alabama last week, the editor of the diocesan newspaper here in the Metuchen diocese interviewed our Bishop, Paul Bootkoski. Last Tuesday (September 4) was the 10 year anniversary of his episcopal ordination, and this year marked his 5th anniversary as our Ordinary. Check it out by clicking the link on the right.

Fr. Fessio interview

Today I recorded an interview with Fr. Joseph Fessio, SJ of Ignatius Press and Ave Maria University. Ignatius has put together a collection of the start of Pope Benedict's Wednesday Audience discourses on the Church as undertood through the people in the Scriptures, entitled, "Jesus, the Apostles, and the Early Church".

During the interview, he told me he is about to spend a week with Pope Benedict at Castelgandolfo as part of the annual Schulerkreis (student circle) meeting. This tradition, which Fr. Fessio says began in 1977, is an annual reunion of former doctoral students of Papa Ratzinger with their mentor. The topic this year: Creation.

Another guest at the Schulerkreis meeting will be the Archbishop of Vienna (and another former student of then-Professor Ratzinger), Christoph Cardinal Schönborn, OP. He just gave a great interview, the first part of which appeared on the Zenit webpage (they'll post part 2 tomorrow) about understanding Pope Benedict. Here's part of it:

Q: Everyone is talking about the Pope's upcoming visit. Who is the real Benedict XVI?

Cardinal Schönborn: He is very simple. He is the successor of the Apostle Peter and therefore for us, he is the Vicar of Christ, the Lord's representative here on earth in the visible Church.This is at the same time incomprehensible and immense, but it is the secret of the Petrine ministry. Whoever meets with him, whatever country he is from, whatever language he speaks -- all of that is important, but it is secondary. For us he is, above all, according to the faith of the Church, Peter among us, with all the depth, greatness and strength of what Jesus prophesied to Peter, of the ministry that he entrusted to him, a ministry that continues to exist beyond the historical figure of Peter.

Q: How are your meetings with the Holy Father?

Cardinal Schönborn: Very normal. He is a man I have known for 35 years, under whom I studied and with whom I have worked for many years, a man that throughout the years, I learned to know and deeply esteem and greatly admire. But April 19, 2005, in his life and in our lives, something greater happened -- he was chosen as the successor of Peter. This naturally represents a new dimension, which is evident in meeting with him. He is the man, the teacher, the cardinal that I know well and have known for many years, and at the same time, he is Peter.

Q: You have known Joseph Ratzinger/Benedict XVI for many years. What distinguishes him as a man?

Cardinal Schönborn: I could mention many things. In his memoirs he wrote in a very modest but wise way about his life. He is very restrained in manifesting personal matters. He does not talk much about his life, but its deep Christian roots are notable. You can tell that he comes from a family profoundly formed by faith, a family united in faith and love.I had the opportunity to get to know his sister Maria well, who died unexpectedly on Nov. 2, 1991. The three siblings were very close and they must have had parents who profoundly shaped them.Who is the Pope based on his personal history? He is a particularly gifted and intelligent theologian. I do not hesitate to say that he is the last of the great theologians of the Council generation -- de Lubac, Congar, Rahner, von Balthasar. He was the youngest in a long line of theologians who influenced the Second Vatican Council and he is certainly one of the greatest because of his spiritual and theological abilities.

Q: During your meeting with Benedict XVI in Castel Gandolfo you discussed the details of his upcoming trip. What is the Holy Father expecting?

Cardinal Schönborn: He will let us know and I think this is good. When Benedict XVI speaks, it is necessary to pay close attention, because what he has to say is always very clear, important, incisive and very personal and fascinating. I don't know what he will say to us. It is good to be open. What I can say with certainty is that we will receive enough material for further reflection.

I love this quote: "When Benedict XVI speaks, it is necessary to pay close attention, because what he has to say is always very clear, important, incisive and very personal and fascinating."

Atheism Interview

I've just posted an interview which recently aired on my radio show. This episode explores the question of atheism and the way that it seems to be making a comeback on the shelves of bookstores. Check it out by clicking on the link on the right side of this webpage: "Proclaim The Good News Radio Show Archives".

Diana versus Teresa

Last week's 10th anniversary of the death of Diana, Princess of Wales, brought all kinds of news specials, documentaries, and made for TV movies.

As we mark the 10th anniversary of Blessed Teresa of Calcutta's death, where's the media?

Football = Religion?

Check out Carl Olson's reflection, called "The Sacramentals of Sport", on the Ignatius Press blog. How many times do clergy hear that we're a different, more laid-back culture, and that average people are just unwilling to accept concepts like "infallibility", "holy days of obligation", etc. Apparently not.

Little Johnny's football coach can require mandatory attendance at all practices and games, and the parents will accept it. But if little Johnny's parish Priest reminds him that Catholics are obligated to attend Mass every Sundays and Holy Day of Obligation, the parents respond, "You can't seriously expect us to come every week."

Little Mary's soccer coach can give her parents a list of required (and not necessarily inexpensive) clothing items which must be worn as part of the uniform when she goes to team events, and the parents will accept it. But little Mary's Priest dare not comment on the fact that she dresses to go to mass as if she's doing a photo shoot for the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition.

Little Jimmy's lacrosse coach can dump 20 cartons of candy bars in his parents' car and tell them that they're required to sell them as part of the team's fundraising efforts, and the parents will accept it. But if little Jimmy's parents get a homily that talks about stewardship and everyone's obligation for the financial upkeep of their parish, they complain that "The Church is always after money".

Little Tina's piano teacher can tell her that if she doesn't practice for the upcoming recital, she won't be allowed to play, and the parents will accept it. But if little Tina's Priest tells her that she can't serve because she didn't attend the rehearsal for altar servers for a special Mass, then the parents tell their neighbors that "Father hates our family".

Little Eli's wrestling coach will impose a special diet, early morning workouts, and late night scrimmages, and the parents will accept it. But if little Eli's parents hear that the Pope has called for fasting and abstinence during Lent, early morning prayers, and late night spiritual reading, the parents will opine, "Who is that old man to tell us how to live our lives?"

Little Ashley's cheering coach can announce that the squad is going to be cheering in a tournament at Walt Disney World, and everyone has to go, and the parents will accept it. But is little Ashley announces she wants to attend World Youth Day, then the parents question the cost of such a trip.

Luciano Pavarotti, Riposino In Pace

Grazie, Maestro, and say "hi" to dad.

Pope Benedict's "Mood Cape"

Two Flaps: A great day. Feel free to ask if he'll grant a private audience to your visiting mother and the 220 members of her Canasta club.

One Flap: An o.k. day. The kind of day the Holy Father invites you to listen to him play piano (but don't even think of bringing along your banjo).

No flaps: Run. Don't walk. Just run.

(Thank you Reuters for the photos)

Back From 'Bama

I've come from Alabama (sorry, no banjo on my knee), and thought I'd use this Labor Day to write about the experience. Which gets me thinking:

Why is it that a day supposedly honoring human labor is commemorated by not working? I mean, on Mother's Day, do we make it a point not to call or send flowers to our mothers? But I digress.

Last Sunday night, along with Fathers John Trigilio and Ken Brighenti, I flew down to Birmingham to tape "Crash Course in Pope John Paul II", a series based on the international best seller soon to be made into a Broadway show, "John Paul II for Dummies". For some reason, the publisher of the series wouldn't allow the EWTN series to use the word, "Dummies", in the title (though they have no problem at all accepting free advertising for the book or series during the show itself). EWTN came up with the "crash course" idea, because somebody presumed that if you heard the word "crash", your subconscious would immediately connect it to "dummies" (as in "crash test dummies"). To confuse the matter even more, even if you accept the premise of a 'crash test dummy' theme, then the set for the show should be an automobile testing ground (or a mechanic's garage, as I suggested), right? Wrong. The set is a mix of a futuristic sliding door and computer lights with a draped curtain and large back chairs. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful that EWTN is willing to produce the show, but it just seemed to me that the whole concept was made up like a quilt in which each patch was made by someone different with no cohesiveness.

I began Monday by concelebrating the 7am Mass in the chapel at EWTN. This is the Mass that gets beamed all around the world four times a day every day. It's an odd feeling being there. I've seen the place so many times on TV and I find myself saying, "Wow, they've got it set up like the chapel on EWTN. Oh wait, this IS the EWTN chapel!" The first thing that hits you while you're in the chapel is the size. TV makes it look much bigger than it is. The truth is that the chapel has only six rows of pews, and each pew can hold five people (six if they squeezed in). But even if the chapel is small, one can't underestimate the fact that it is this Mass that is, for many who cannot (or will not) get to church for whatever reason, sent around the world. Small chapel with a Mass with a big audience; kind of a metaphor for Mass itself. Monday was the feast of St. Monica, and Fr. Trigilio gave an excellent homily on her life. Perhaps her greatest achievement, the one she is best known for, is her constant intercessory prayers for the conversion of her son, St. Augustine, and Fr. John used the homily to encourage those people watching whose children have let their faith become like holiday decorations that only come out once or twice a year.

Following Mass and a little breakfast, we headed over to the studio. The series has two sets: one for Frs. John & Ken, and one for me. In the series, I'm kind of like "The Great Oz", in that I'm the man on a video screen behind the curtain who interacts with Fr. Trigilio for the first half of the show. I'm actually about twenty feet away from him in front of a mural backdrop of photos of JP2. The first thing that hit me about making the series is that this is not some amateur production. The people who put these series together, from the director to the cameramen to the production designers, etc. are professionals at what they do. Thankfully, also, they're pretty forgiving when it comes to clergy who are not professionals who flub up their cues and lines. In addition, these are people of faith, who paused before doing their manual labor to ask God to bless their work. It was funny hearing Frs. John & Ken and myself referred to as "the talent", as in, "The talent is ready", or, "The talent needs 5 minutes". What's a kid from Port Reading, New Jersey, doing here? I did try to milk this for what I could get, but as much as I tried "the talent" was not able to get a production assistant to get him a bagel and a super-grande-mocha-frappa-chino-skim-latte. Ah well, it was worth a shot.

My portion of the episodes were taped all at once. Editors will go back and take my "first halves" with Fr. John, and Fr. Ken's "second halves" with Fr. John, and make them into a dozen or so half-hour episodes. Each show begins with an introduction by Fr. John, at the end of which he turns around, a big curtain pulls up, and I am there on the screen to answer his questions. Here's where I freaked out. While each episode has a theme, the shows themselves have no precise script. When Fr. John asked me questions on screen, that was the first time I heard the question. Please remember that when you eventually watch the series and think to yourself, "Some expert. This guy can't tell the difference between St. Gianna Molla and St. Gemma Galgani!" While I could cram study on a topic between taping (of course using "John Paul II for Dummies"), the first time the viewer is hearing the question posed to me was, at that moment, the first time I was hearing the question. For example, the episode may deal with John Paul's early years in Poland, but it wasn't until the cameras were rolling that I heard the specific question, "Father Jay, could you tell us a little bit about the history of Latin-rite Christianity in Poland?" (in one minute or less, by the way). Combine your own memories of studying for final exams with what you've heard about the pressure of a live presidential debate, and you won't have to wonder why makeup had to constantly be applied to my sweaty forehead! My portions of the taping were finished by Tuesday afternoon, and it was then that I could relax a little bit.

While down there, we stayed at the Casa Santa Maria retreat house, just two miles from the studio and run by the Sister Servants of the Eternal Word. It is a very comfortable place with the most joyous community of sisters (with an average age of about 22) you will find. Frs. John & Ken have stayed there before, and Tuesday night I became part of a promise they made to cook dinner for the sisters. Monday night we "prepped" by chopping onions and pancetta and crushing tomatoes, and Tuesday night we got the chance to sit down and enjoy the Spaghetti All' Amatriciana with the sisters and their chaplain, Father Lambert Glennan (a 90 year old Dominican who was the first editor of the English edition of L'Osservatore Romano back in 1968 - a link to the history of the Church's efforts in social communications). If you get the chance to visit Birmingham, you'd do well to stay at the retreat house these sisters go out of their way to make comfortable as well as prayerful.

On Wednesday, Fathers John & Ken finished taping their portions of the show, and then after lunch we taped a commercial and little promos for advertising the show. All I'll tell you is that James Bond looked much better in a jetpack than I do. On Wednesday night we were the guests on Fr. Mitch Pacwa's show, EWTN Live. They're not kidding, the show is done live, and so the questions during the interview (as well as our responses) were not staged or planned. If you saw the interview, then you know that Fr. Mitch had no idea I was a convert. Following the show, we spoke to the audience for a while (and I made the obligatory cell phone call to my mom, "Hey, did you see me on TV? How was I?"), and then we went back to Fr. Mitch's place to do what Priests do best, relax and solve all the problems of the universal Church. There was also a "drop in" from EWTN's news director, Raymond Arroyo.

On Thursday, it was my turn to be the main celebrant and homilist for the daily Mass. I was surprised how nervous I was before the Mass. I mean, this isn't just a Mass in a chapel for 30 people, this goes all over the world as you're saying it. The audience isn't just made up of Catholics with a basic level of theology, these are people who've done their reading and praying (that's why I admired Fr. Ken's homily on Tuesday's feast of St. Augustine; to tackle Pope Benedict's favorite Father for everyone to see and hear is not an easy task). Also, this Mass isn't just being shown once with a "hit or miss" viewing potential; it will be recorded for posterity and the homily posted on the internet. When I think of the clergy I've watched preach from that ambo through the years, it was surreal to think that now as my turn to "step up to the plate". Also, before I forget to mention this trivia factoid, next time you watch the EWTN daily Mass, notice how the ambo is always the right height for the preacher. Underneath it is a button which can electronically raise or lower the height of the ambo! Why doesn't every parish have that? Finally, when you finish the homily (which is when most Priests could rest easy), you've still got to go "solo" when it comes to the Latin chant introducing the Our Father, etc. I was pretty comfortable with the words, having done my share of private Masses in Latin, but when doing so I usually recite Latin words (I don't chant them). To be honest, I was more nervous about getting the chant tones right than the words themselves. And to add the final nail in the coffin: just as we're processing into the chapel, Deacon Bill Steltemeier says to me matter-of-factly, "Mother Angelica watches this Mass every day. She loves to hear what young Priests have to say."

Thursday afternoon we drove about an hour north of Birmingham to Hanceville, site of the Our Lady of the Angels Monastery where the Poor Clares of Perpetual Adoration moved a few years back, as EWTN grew larger on a plot of land that was getting smaller and smaller for the cloistered religious (whose vocations also were, at the same time, growing in numbers) who were also located there. Of course, the centerpiece of the place is the Temple of the Child Jesus, a eucharistic shrine that brings the glory of a 16th century european cathedral into 21st century Alabama. We spent the night in a retreat house for Priests which is on the property.

On Friday morning we concelebrated the conventual Mass at the Shrine. The sisters sang beautifully (practically angelic) and the sight of so many young families with large numbers of children recharged my batteries. Following Mass, the sisters prepared breakfast for us (the sight of us collecting our plates passed to us by the nuns through the cloister grill is embedded in my memory). I found out that we had one more amazing moment left in store for us. We found out that Raymond Arroyo was coming to visit with Mother Angelica, and we'd also get to see her. Yes, she's up there in years, and yes, she's been largely silenced by a stroke. But she hears very well, speaks occasionally, and still has that impish twinkle in her eye and smile on her face that tells you she knows exactly what's happening. I had met Mother during my last (and only previous) trip to Birmingham in 2000, and I found myself thinking the same thing: She started all of this with nothing. Nuns who earned income for their monastery by boiling peanuts and tying flys for fishing created a global media network that daily sends the Roman Catholic Church's teachings and message around the planet earth. It is a well known fact of history that the Shrine and the monastery was built on donations given by only five families. One wonders whether some of the today's more "progressive" orders of religious would have the courage to leave their current lodgings and build their own housing and "worship spaces" using funds donated by people who'd donate based on their belief in the orders' vision of what it means to be Church? Following the visit, we headed back to Birmingham for our flight home. Those who are regulars to my blog know of my angst about flying, but I have to say that both flights were pretty smooth. Thank you, Lord.

In the end, it was a great trip. When Frs. John & Ken approached me to help write the book, they did so because the publisher wanted it done in a limited amount of time. In the end, the book was published a year and a half after the offer was extended, so the bottom line is that I should have never had this chance to write part of this book. So this whole trip to Birmingham, the TV series, the daily Mass, the interview, is all by God's providence. Through this whole week, my attitude has been that I may never write another book, so I may as well "enjoy the ride" now. Once again, thank you, Lord.

Pop Quiz

O.K., YFs, put your thinking caps on for this:

An elderly gentleman passed away. A former member of the parish who had not been active for years, he wasn't "inactive" because of any illness or anything; he simply "wasn't religious" (according to his family).

His children (all adults and not really religious, either) do not want a funeral Mass for him. Instead, they want a short ceremony (very short, the funeral director tells you) to be done at the funeral home.

Outrageous? Not really. This is not such an out of the ordinary situation for Priests today, and there are lots of ways to handle this, so do you...

1. Tell the funeral director that since the deceased was not a registered parishioner at this parish, they have no right to be buried from here.
2. Insist that deceased Catholics should have their funeral within the context of a Mass (and essentially "force" the family into church)?
3. Do what the family wants (and in doing so give them an implied affirmation that the way their father lived 'irreligious', as well as their own casual indifference towards God, is a valid option)?
4. Perform a "Funeral Outside of Mass" at the funeral home, and use it as an opportunity to remind the family that deliberately choosing to not attend Mass and make use of the other Sacraments is a serious sin and not the best way to show God we want Heaven when our life here is over.

Ready? O.K., Pick up your pencils and begin the quiz.

Postpartum Depression Interview

This weekend's episode of Proclaim the Good News has been posted to the Podbean site.

In the episode, I interviewed Charlotte Feeney, a nurse educator, about a program called "Speak Up When You're Down", meant to educate people about the warning signs of Postpartum Depression.

Through the New Jersey Catholic Conference, each of the 5 dioceses in New Jersey (The Archdiocese of Newark, as well as the Dioceses of Camden, Metuchen, Paterson, and Trenton) will host this seminar in an effort to have clergy and parish staff learn the warning signs of PPD.

And whilst speaking about the Apostles...

This reflection of the Apostles was in today's Office of Readings of the Liturgy of the Hours. From a homily by St. John Chrysostom:

"For the good deeds which tax-collectors and fishermen were able to accomplish by God's grace, the philosophers, the rulers, the countless multitudes cannot even imagine.

Paul had this in mind when he said: The weakness of God is stronger than men. That the preaching of these men was indeed divine is brought home to us in the same way. For how otherwise could twelve uneducated men, who lived on lakes and rivers and wastelands, get the idea for such an immense enterprise? How could men who perhaps had never been in a city or a public square think of setting out to do battle with the whole world? That they were fearful, timid men, the evangelist makes clear; he did not reject the fact or try to hide their weaknesses. Indeed he turned these into a proof of the truth... .

How then account for the fact that these men, who in Christ's lifetime did not stand up to the attacks ..., set forth to do battle with the whole world once Christ was dead - if, as you claim, Christ did not rise and speak to them and rouse their courage?

... It is evident, then, that if they had not seen him risen and had proof of his power, they would not have risked so much."

St. Bartholomew's Day

Today's feast gives us a chance to re-read Pope Benedict's Wednesday audience reflection on St. Bartholomew (my own emphases added):

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

In the series on the Apostles called by Jesus during his earthly life, today it is the Apostle Bartholomew who attracts our attention. In the ancient lists of the Twelve he always comes before Matthew, whereas the name of the Apostle who precedes him varies; it may be Philip (cf.Mt 10: 3; Mk 3: 18; Lk 6: 14) or Thomas (cf. Acts 1: 13).

His name is clearly a patronymic, since it is formulated with an explicit reference to his father's name. Indeed, it is probably a name with an Aramaic stamp, bar Talmay, which means precisely: "son of Talmay".

We have no special information about Bartholomew; indeed, his name always and only appears in the lists of the Twelve mentioned above and is therefore never central to any narrative. However, it has traditionally been identified with Nathanael: a name that means "God has given".

This Nathanael came from Cana (cf. Jn 21: 2) and he may therefore have witnessed the great "sign" that Jesus worked in that place (cf. Jn 2: 1-11). It is likely that the identification of the two figures stems from the fact that Nathanael is placed in the scene of his calling, recounted in John's Gospel, next to Philip, in other words, the place that Bartholomew occupies in the lists of the Apostles mentioned in the other Gospels.

Philip told this Nathanael that he had found "him of whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph" (Jn 1: 45). As we know, Nathanael's retort was rather strongly prejudiced: "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" (Jn 1: 46). In its own way, this form of protestation is important for us. Indeed, it makes us see that according to Judaic expectations the Messiah could not come from such an obscure village as, precisely, Nazareth (see also Jn 7: 42).

But at the same time Nathanael's protest highlights God's freedom, which baffles our expectations by causing him to be found in the very place where we least expect him. Moreover, we actually know that Jesus was not exclusively "from Nazareth" but was born in Bethlehem (cf. Mt 2: 1; Lk 2: 4) and came ultimately from Heaven, from the
Father who is in Heaven.

Nathanael's reaction suggests another thought to us: in our relationship with Jesus we must not be satisfied with words alone. In his answer, Philip offers Nathanael a meaningful invitation: "Come and see!" (Jn 1: 46). Our knowledge of Jesus needs above all a first-hand experience: someone else's testimony is of course important, for normally the whole of our Christian life begins with the proclamation handed down to us by one or more witnesses.

However, we ourselves must then be personally involved in a close and deep relationship with Jesus; in a similar way, when the Samaritans had heard the testimony of their fellow citizen whom Jesus had met at Jacob's well, they wanted to talk to him directly, and after this conversation they told the woman: "It is no longer because of your words that we believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is indeed the Saviour of the world" (Jn 4: 42).

Returning to the scene of Nathanael's vocation, the Evangelist tells us that when Jesus sees Nathanael approaching, he exclaims: "Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no guile!" (Jn 1: 47). This is praise reminiscent of the text of a Psalm: "Blessed is the man... in whose spirit there is no deceit" (32[31]: 2), but provokes the curiosity of Nathanael who answers in amazement: "How do you know me?" (Jn 1: 48).

Jesus' reply cannot immediately be understood. He says: "Before Philip called you, when you were under the fig tree, I saw you" (Jn 1: 48). We do not know what had happened under this fig tree. It is obvious that it had to do with a decisive moment in Nathanael's life.

His heart is moved by Jesus' words, he feels understood and he understands: "This man knows everything about me, he knows and is familiar with the road of life; I can truly trust this man". And so he answers with a clear and beautiful confession of faith: "Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!" (Jn 1:49). In this confession is conveyed a first important step in the journey of attachment to Jesus.

Nathanael's words shed light on a twofold, complementary aspect of Jesus' identity: he is recognized both in his special relationship with God the Father, of whom he is the Only-begotten Son, and in his relationship with the People of Israel, of whom he is the declared King, precisely the description of the awaited Messiah. We must never lose sight of either of these two elements because if we only proclaim Jesus' heavenly dimension, we risk making him an ethereal and evanescent being; and if, on the contrary, we recognize only his concrete place in history, we end by neglecting the divine dimension that properly qualifies him.

We have no precise information about Bartholomew-Nathanael's subsequent apostolic activity. According to information handed down by Eusebius, the fourth-century historian, a certain Pantaenus is supposed to have discovered traces of Bartholomew's presence even in India (cf. Hist. eccl. V, 10, 3).

In later tradition, as from the Middle Ages, the account of his death by flaying became very popular. Only think of the famous scene of the Last Judgment in the Sistine Chapel in which Michelangelo painted St Bartholomew, who is holding his own skin in his left hand, on which the artist left his self-portrait.

St Bartholomew's relics are venerated here in Rome in the Church dedicated to him on the Tiber Island, where they are said to have been brought by the German Emperor Otto III in the year 983.

To conclude, we can say that despite the scarcity of information about him, St Bartholomew stands before us to tell us that attachment to Jesus can also be lived and witnessed to without performing sensational deeds. Jesus himself, to whom each one of us is called to dedicate his or her own life and death, is and remains extraordinary.

Based on the Holy Father's discourse, here are some photos I found on the net:

The remains of St. Bartholomew are under the main altar of the Roman church of San Bartolomeo all'Isola (named so because it's on an island in the middle of the Tiber).

Here's St. Bartholomew as pictured in the "Last Judgment" on the back wall of the Sistine Chapel. Michelangelo's self portrait is in the skin being held by St. Bart.

Great Quotes

Twice today I've read quotes that have jumped out at me. Maybe you'll like them, too. First, the sacred; then, the secular:

"If only mortals would learn how great it is to possess divine grace, how beautiful, how noble, how precious. How many riches it hides within itself, how many joys and delights!" - St. Rose of Lima

"Regret is an awful thing - a poisonous luxury. The less you have of it, the better." - Henry Rollins

Thank You!

It's only been about a month since I archived episodes of my radio program on the Podbean website, and already the website has had over 1,000 visitors! But more impressive than how many of you have listened in on the show has been where the show is now being heard. Try these places on for size:

In Canada: Moncton, New Brunswick; Hamilton, Ontario; Regina, Saskatchewan; and Vancouver, British Columbia

In Argentina, Belgium, England, Germany, Australia, New Zealand, Hong Kong, and in the Philippines.

And in 25 of the 50 states of the U.S. of A, as well as the District of Columbia.

Antoinette Bosco Interview

No new episode of Proclaim the Good News this weekend. We're running a repeat of an interview with author Antoinette Bosco about her book, Mother Benedict: Foundress of the Abbey of Regina Laudis.

Keeping up our "Elvis" theme this week, the interview includes the story of actress Dolores Hart, who appeared with Presley in Loving You and King Creole. In 1962, Hart left Hollywood and entered religious life at Regina Laudis Abbey, where she continues to live today as prioress of the Abbey.

To hear the interview, click here

Fr. Fred Miller interview

At last (and as promised), the interview I did last year with Fr. Fred Miller on the Feast of the Assumption of Mary is now uploaded and ready for your listening pleasure. Fr. Miller is a Priest of the Archdiocese of Newark, and currently a professor at Mount St. Mary's Seminary, in Emmitsburg, Maryland. Check it out here.

Preventing Rectories From Becoming Wrecks

Bishop Julian Porteous, an auxiliary of the Archdiocese of Sydney, has written an essay about the daily life of a parish Priest. In it, he compares life in a "presbytery" (what Americans call the "rectory") in the past with the present day rectory living conditions.

Young Fogey Priests, take a read: he makes some valid points about the need for a home life and community, even in the secular Priesthood. Many rectories today are not so much residences for a parish's clergy as much as boarding houses for bachelors who lead totally separate lives from each other. Some make the argument, "If I wanted community life, I'd have joined a religious community." To which I respond, "Yes, but if you wanted a solitary life, you should have remained a layman or become a canonical hermit."

Check out the article.

...and while we're at it

Speaking of marriage, a student at Franciscan University of Steubenville has posted his song of woe and lament about dating on the campus of a Catholic college.

Today's Gospel on Love and Marriage

Today's Gospel gets into the Church's teachings about marriage and divorce. Scott Hahn's Ignatius Study Bible: The Gospel of Matthew gives a great explanation on the interpretations of the passage. Sadly the book is not online, but Dr. Hahn's St. Paul Center for Biblical Theology has some resources available.

I spoke to Dr. Hahn about the Ignatius study bible series in an interview you can get to by clicking here.

Thank You. Thank You Very Much.

Today, being the 30th anniversary of the death of Elvis Presley, a fellow blogger has come up with "Five Catholic Facts About Elvis".

Give it a read, and you're guaranteed not to wince the next time you hear that a baby was baptized with the name Elvis.

On the Assumption

From St. Gregory of Tours (written between 575-593ad):

"The course of this life having been completed by Blessed Mary, when now she would be called from the world, all the Apostles came together from their various regions to her house. And when they had heard that she was about to be taken from the world, they kept watch together with her. And behold, the Lord Jesus came with His angels, and taking her soul, He gave it over to the Angel Michael and withdrew. At daybreak, however, the Apostles took up her body on a bier and placed it in a tomb; and they guarded it, expecting the Lord to come. And behold, again the Lord stood by them; and the holy body having been received, He commanded that it be taken in a cloud into paradise: where now, rejoined to the soul, [Mary] rejoices with the Lord's chosen ones, and it is the enjoyment of the good of an eternity that will never end."


From St. Germanus, Patriarch of Constantinople (730ad):

"When Christ had willed that His Mother, she who had borne Life Itself within her, should be taken upwards to Himself, He tells her, by the message of an angel who was already known to her, that the time of her falling asleep is now at hand. And this He did so that through the imitation of Her coming death, she might not be troubled at her departure from the living; as will happen to the rest of mortal men. ... Mary the Mother of Life has been assumed."


From a sermon by St. John Vianney (1786-1859):

"It is thought that the same angel who announced to her the mystery of the Incarnation told her also the hour of her death. The Blessed Virgin is said to have answered to the angel: 'O what bliss, and how ardently I desire after this moment!' ... When the hour arrived, she felt herself burning with so great a love that her soul could no longer remain in her body. O blessed moment! Can we, dear brethren, contemplate this death, without feeling an ardent desire to live a good life and to die such a holy death? We can certainly not expect to die of love; but we may hope at least to die in the love of God. Mary had no fear of death, for death was to place her in possession of eternal bliss; she knew that heaven was waiting for her, and that she was to be one of its choicest ornaments. Her Son and the whole celestial court were advancing to meet her, the Saints of heaven were waiting to conduct her in triumph into their kingdom. Everything in heaven was ready to receive her; she was to enjoy honors which are above everything which we can possibly imagine to ourselves."


From St. Josemaria Escriva, in a homily on the Assumption (1961):

"Mary has gone to heaven in both body and soul, and the angels rejoice. I can imagine, too, the delight of St. Joseph, her most chaste spouse, who awaited her in paradise. The feast of the Assumption of our Lady prompts us to acknowledge the basis for ... joyful hope. Yes, we are still pilgrims, but our mother has gone on ahead, where she points to the reward of our efforts. She tells us that we can make it. And, if we are faithful, we will reach home. The blessed Virgin is not only our model, she is the help of Christians. And as we besiege her with our petitions - 'Show that you are our Mother' - she cannot help but watch over her children with motherly care."


From a Wednesday general audience of Pope John Paul II (July 2, 1997):

"The dogma of the Assumption affirms that Mary's body was glorified after her death. While for other human beings the resurrection of the body will take place at the end of the world, for Mary the glorification of her body was anticipated by a special privilege. ... After Christ, the incarnate Word, Mary is the first human being to achieve the eschatological ideal, anticipating the fullness of happiness promised to the elect through the resurrection of the body. ... We can also see the divine will to advance woman. In a way analogous to what happened at the beginning of the human race and of salvation history, in God's plan the eschatological ideal was not to be revealed in an individual, but in a couple. ... In the face of the profanation and debasement to which modern society frequently subjects the female body, the mystery of the assumption proclaims the supernatural destiny and dignity of every human body, called by the Lord to become an instrument of holiness and to share in his glory."

O.K., I tried

The CD with the Fr. Fred Miller interview on Our lady's Assumption was there at the studio, ready for me to take home and upload onto the Podbean site. I took it home with me, popped it into the CD drive, and it wasn't in a format which the website supports.

Gadzooks. Foiled again.

The episode (with the proper format) is being mailed to me via snail mail. The computers in my diocese's chancery does not allow for internet access, except for a few select terminals, so the person doing the file conversion can't e-mail me the show. As soon as I get it, you'll get it.