Marriage

My foray into the blogosphere has been, at times, intimidating.  In an attempt to become more comfortable with writing to an unknown audience, I have tried to steer clear of controversial subjects.  If I am going to subject myself, or my writing, to debate, I prefer to do so in the academic arena.  However, in light of the Supreme Court’s decision on same-sex marriage, I feel that I need to step out of my comfort zone and speak up — or, allow another priest to speak for me via his blog.  Fr. Joe Jenkins has written a well thought out essay on why the Catholic Church cannot back down on its theological beliefs or principles.  There is very little in what he says that I disagree with.

Although I believe, wholeheartedly, that my church needs to stand her ground on the issue of marriage, I also believe that from a civil perspective, same-sex couples deserve to be treated with respect, love, and kindness.  Whether or not we believe, as individuals or as a church, that homosexuality is acceptable, it has become accepted by society.  Same-sex attracted couples fall in love and, just like heterosexual couples, they want to commit to a lifetime together.  They want to raise a family, frequently adopting the “unadoptable” children that no one else will give a home to.  To protect the welfare of their families, they want the same legal rights as their heterosexual neighbors and friends and family.  Morally, we must, as a society, acknowledge their right to the same civil legal status as their neighbors.

My thoughts on the subject of civil unions may seem liberal and radical for a priest. Opinions can be changed by life experiences or observations.  Mine have changed over the past few years as I have watched my nephew struggle with his same-sex attraction. Because of his Catholic upbringing, that struggle has been made more difficult because his church does not fully accept him as God created him.  Not everyone is called to a celibate life and by asking ALL same-sex attracted individuals to live celibately, we are asking for the impossible.  For the moment, my nephew is celibate.  He is only 30 years old.  Can I, a celibate priest, ask him to remain celibate for the rest of his life?  All I can do is ask that he try, that he pray about the path in which God wants him to follow.  If he cannot commit to a lifetime of celibacy, I pray that he commits to ONE person.

I do believe that same-sex couples deserve to be protected by all the same legal rights as their heterosexual neighbors.  I do, however, draw the line at marriage. Marriage is sacred, between one man and one woman.  We, as a society, have lost sight of the sanctity of the vows a couple recites before God.  “I will love you, until death do us part,” not “until divorce do us part.”  (Although there are circumstances where divorce is the only recourse for abused women or children.)  While civil law establishes societal standards of conduct, we must also consider the natural law, moral law, and divine revelation.  It is from these fonts of wisdom and grace that Catholics understand that marriage between one man and one woman is a gift to humanity.  The blessings of such a marriage cannot be legislated, litigated, or changed by civil authorities.

Rather than repeat what Fr. Joe has written so eloquently in his blog, I ask that you read it. I also recommend the blog Fr. Joe refers to, written by Monsignor Charles Pope from the Archdiocese of Washington.

May God bless each of His children.  May God bless the married couples, man and woman, who believe in the sanctity and holiness of their vows and their commitment to one another and their children.  May God bless . . . .

Boston Strong

Four weeks ago I was in Ireland, visiting cousins after a blessed Lenten spiritual retreat. Four weeks ago, the United States was, once again, attacked by Muslim terrorists, this time at the finish line of the Boston Marathon, a marathon I have run four times — thrice as an able-bodied runner and once in the wheelchair division.  Four weeks ago, my cousins and I watched in horror as a city very dear to my heart reeled from the attack of innocent bystanders, permanently injuring many and killing a few.  Four weeks ago, I felt terribly helpless, wanting to be in Boston to offer spiritual support and comfort.

• Psalms 46:1 ~~ God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
• Psalms 55:22 ~~ Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you; he will never permit the righteous to be moved.
• Psalms 25:1 ~~ In You, Lord my God, I put my trust.

And, so, we came . . . .  After a middle-of-the-night visit from their priest and through the remarkable generosity of a small Irish parish, funds were gathered and an airline ticket was purchased for my cousin, Meghan.  I had an open-ended return ticket to the USA that I had not intended to use until summer, but God was calling me to be in Boston.  Meghan is a retired nurse who worked in the trauma unit of a hospital for many years; my brother, Patrick, is a retired orthopedic surgeon, my sister, Colleen, is a retired pediatrician, and my niece, Michelle, is a nurse; my nephew, John, and I are priests.  With ties to this great city, we descended upon Boston to help where we could.

• Psalms 147:3 ~~ He heals the brokenhearted, and binds up their wounds.
• Jeremiah 17:14 ~~ Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved; for you are my praise.
• Mark 5:34 ~~ He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”
• James 5:14 ~~ Are any among you sick?  They should call for the elders of the church and have them pray over them, anointing them with oil in the name of the Lord.
• Luke 4:18 ~~ The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.

John was ordained just a year ago and continues to live in Boston, teaching at one of the many colleges that line the historic streets.  Through the gracious hospitality of people he knows, we all had lodging arranged for us.  Each of us has felt extremely blessed to meet the victims of the bombings and their families.  Americans are resilient, Bostonians are resilient, and the spiritual strength of those we met never ceased to amaze me.

• Proverbs 3:5 ~~ Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not rely on your own insight.
• John 14:1 ~~ “Do not let your hearts be troubled.  Believe in God, believe also in me.”

The medical O’Malleys and Donahues remained in Boston for two weeks, volunteering their services where needed.  I remained in Boston for another week where Fr. John and I ministered to the spiritual needs of the injured and their families.  We prayed, we celebrated Mass, we offered the Eucharist and, while blessing those who were in crisis, we felt blessed to be a part of their healing.  Strong.  Boston Strong.

In a city that is predominately Roman Catholic, at a time when people from all walks of life ran towards the bombing victims, priests who were within reach of the wounded and dying were prohibited from approaching them.  Anointing of the Sick is one of seven sacraments in the Catholic church.  It is sacred to us.  For priests to be within reach of those needing and wanting to receive this sacrament, and to be denied the opportunity, is maddening.  For the police — many of whom are Irish Catholic — to barricade priests against entering the crime scene to minister to the dying and injured is unconscionable.  At this writing, the police have not responded to calls from the media as to their reasoning.  Anointing of the Sick at the Boston Marathon

Emotions continue to run high in Boston, mine included.  And, so, while on an airplane, flying home to the West, I nearly lost my priestly pacifism when my seat mate referred to me as an apostate priest who was leading my fellow Catholics down an evil path.  This is not the first time I have been called an apostate priest; most recently, it was a fellow blogger who has nothing kind to say about the Roman Catholic Church or its followers.  However, being confronted in person, on an enclosed airplane, was a first.  While trying to ignore his diatribe, I continued to read my Bible, most specifically the Book of Wisdom which is considered apocryphal by Protestants and is not included in the Protestant Bible.

And, so, I tried to be wise.  I tried to heed the spirit of the Book of Wisdom.  I tried to keep my impish Irish temper in check.  After explaining to my fellow passenger that an already long flight would be made only longer if he continued to criticize my church and me, I asked him to allow me to continue reading the Bible in peace.

• The Wisdom of Solomon 1:11 ~~ Beware then of useless grumbling, and keep your tongue from slander; because no secret word is without result, and a lying mouth destroys the soul.

After a couple of hours of peaceful silence, I opened a discussion with him about the Book of Wisdom.  I explained that, although considered apocryphal by Protestants, it contains much of what is found in the Protestant canon.  It contrasts the lives of the just and the wicked, dramatizing the eschatological destinies of the two groups.  It celebrates the figure of the divine Sophia, or Wisdom.  It uses historical comparison based principally on Exodus 7-14, providing Biblical examples of the righteous and the unrighteous, and demonstrates how the power of the divine wisdom operates in human history.  Knowing that this person believes the Bible to be the inerrant, factually historical, Word of God, not the inerrant, inspired, Word of God, I needed to compare and contrast very carefully.

We discussed the Bible and our interpretations of certain scriptures.  Then, I asked him if he would explain to me why, without knowing me as a person, he thinks of me as an apostate, why he believes the Catholic church is evil in its teachings, and why he thinks it wrong of me to minister to those in Boston who were injured.  I will not relive our conversation here but, suffice it to say, I got an earful.

When he was finished with his diatribe, I explained to him what I had witnessed in Boston — families of those who were murdered, the injured and their families, and witnesses who will forever be affected by the war scene.  I met people from all walks of faith — Catholic, Protestant, Jewish, Muslim, and some who claimed no particular faith but who still believed in a powerful God.  What I learned from these people is that in the big scheme of the universe, it does not matter to God which faith community we belong, but that we believe in Him and His healing power.

I witnessed people from different faith backgrounds coming together to pray, to offer support, to cry.  I witnessed people from different faith backgrounds giving blood for the victims.  I witnessed people from different faith backgrounds working side-by-side in hospitals to heal the injured.  Not one person gave thought to which denomination another might belong.  During this time of crisis, it did not matter.  I prayed with, not only Catholics, but with Protestants from many different denominations, and Jews.  What mattered to the injured, their families, and the city of Boston, was the benevolent humanity from all walks of faith.

I explained my observations to my seat mate and, yet, it fell on deaf ears.  Rather than praying intercessory prayers, asking God to comfort those who had lost loved ones or asking God to heal those who had been injured, he believed the only prayers he should offer were for their salvation.  Intercessory prayer is simply prayer for other people and, in a sense, everyone is called to be an intercessor as we pray for one another.

• James 5:16 ~~ Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.
• 1 Timothy 2:1 ~~ First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people.
• Ephesians 6:18 ~~  Praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints.

After a long flight made only longer by our discussion, I knew my seat mate and I would never agree.  I have very close friends who are not of my faith.  We do not always agree, but we respect each other’s beliefs and we try to learn from each other.  I am saddened that this man could not open his heart to loving others as they are, no matter their faith backgrounds.  If we are to ever experience world peace, it will be because we take to heart . . .

• Mark 12: 30-31 ~~ Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.  The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.  There is no commandment greater than these.

Here We Go Again :(

Much too often over the past several years, I am reminded how fragile life is.  Just four short months ago, we in the United States were horrified by the tragic killing of a 1st grade class, and six of their teachers and administrators at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, CT.  Today, it is the Boston Marathon.  My heart aches at all the evil.  My heart aches for all the innocent people who are killed or injured.  My heart aches for their families.  My heart aches for my country.  My heart aches . . . .

Rather than writing an entire blog post, I am going to add a link to what I wrote in December.  Prayers

I would also like to share this from Mr. Fred Rogers:

White Smoke

OK, I know I am a little late with this blog post, but I have been cloistered in a Jesuit retreat center with no contact to the outside world — sort of.  Although seemingly silent, I was very much aware of what was happening within the Catholic church.  Those of us at the retreat center were able to stay abreast of current events, even when choosing to remain silent to our loved ones.  And, so . . .

Changes are brewing within the Roman Catholic church.  Pope Benedict XVI chose to live out his remaining years in prayerful seclusion at a monastery near the Vatican.  He was known as “the reluctant Pope,” never wanting to lead the worldwide 1.2 billion Catholics.  Joseph Ratzinger is a scholar, most happy with his books — the books he reads and the books he writes.  I greatly admire his decision to retire, to pass the baton to a man who is a little younger and who has more energy to lead the Church.

I have seen changes in the Church — beginning with the Second Vatican Council when I was a teenager.  Suddenly, Mass was said in the vernacular, the priest faced his congregation, and there was no more fish on Friday.  Of course, there were many other changes, but these were the changes most people, Catholic and non-Catholic alike, remember.  I have memories of each Pope who has led my Church during my lifetime.  Most significant were the changes of Vatican II, under the leadership of Pope John XXIII at its opening, and Pope Paul VI, at its closing.  I was a seminarian during the very brief time of Pope John Paul I, who died just 33 days after becoming Pope.  And, then, there was Pope John Paul II.  As part of my studies, I spent summers in Rome.  I was truly honored to be blessed by His Holiness on more than one  occasion.  Still early in his time as Pope, he was young and vivacious and full of the Holy Spirit.  It was with great sadness that the world watched as his health declined.  And, so, Pope Benedict XVI chose to retire at the age of 85 to live out his remaining years in quiet solitude.

Whether factual or not, word is that Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio of Buenos Aires, Argentina, was the conclave’s second choice eight years ago, when Joseph Ratzinger was elected pope and took the name Benedict XVI.  With the election of Pope Francis, there are many firsts — the first pope from the Western Hemisphere, the first pope from the Southern Hemisphere, the first pope from the Americas, the first pope from South America, the first pope who is a Jesuit — one of God’s Marines.

Pride — one of the 7 Deadly Sins.  Is it sinful to be proud that “one of our own” has been elected Pope?  With the announcement that Pope Francis had been elected, the jubilation among those in residence at the Manresa Retreat Center was — prideful?  Happy.  Joy.  Peace.  Humility.  Pride.  Yes, we are proud that one of our own is now Pope.  Jesuits not only take solemn vows of Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience, and a fourth solemn vow of Obedience to the Pope in regard to Missions, but five simple vows that, essentially, state that we will live by the Constitution of the Jesuits and we will not seek higher office, either within the Jesuit order or as a bishop.  For a Jesuit to become bishop is rare, to become pope is unprecedented.  So, yes, we are proud of our new pope — for many reasons.  He is a very humble man, who works arduously to help the poor.  He is a warrior for social justice.  By what we are learning in his first few weeks as pope, Pope Francis will be a pope of the people and for the people.  To the chagrin of his security detail, he has ventured out in an open vehicle so he can touch his public.  He has met with Pope Benedict XVI to pray together.  The Church is in good hands.

As Pope Francis leads the Roman Catholic Church into a new era, let us all keep His Holiness in our prayers.  The Church has been under scrutiny for two decades and there is much healing that must still take place.  We are a conservative church, with beliefs and traditions that date to 2000 years ago, to the time of Christ.  Many of our adherents would like to see changes — changes that would seemingly bring the Church into the 21st Century.  Change can be slow — painfully slow — but it does sometimes take place.  We must be patient and know that if it is God’s Will, changes will be made.  We must remember that everything happens in God’s time, not ours.  We must also remember that, because of our interpretation of Holy Scripture, some of the “modern, secular” changes will never happen.

And, so . . .

O God, the Shepherd and Ruler of all Your faithful people, mercifully look upon Your servant Francis, whom You have chosen as the chief Shepherd to preside over Your Church.  We beg You to help him edify, both by word and example, those over whom he has charge, that he may reach everlasting life together with the flock entrusted to him. Through Christ our Lord.  ~~Amen.

Ireland

Ah, the ancestral home of my family!  Although an American, I know I have come home when I visit Ireland.  So green.  So lush.  So beautiful.  So peaceful.  So Catholic!!  And, if not for my annual Lenten fast, so much Guinness!  Imagine being in Ireland and not being able to drink Guinness.

I am 100% Irish — both of my parents were born in this incredible country.  I love everything about being here, most of all seeing family.  Yep, I have first cousins in Ireland.  Because my parents were the youngest of their families, my first cousins, once removed, are closer to my age.  I will be spending part of my visit with my cousin, Meghan, her husband, Ronan, and their family.  We will reminisce about our childhood antics during my family’s visits to the ancestral home or when her family visited us in the USA.

Ireland is in my blood — I have joked that my blood runs green.  Without being too specific about where I grew up, let’s just say I think my grandparents settled where they did because it reminded them of Ireland.  Rain.  Green.  Ocean.  Catholic churches established by missionaries of long ago.  Home.

I am taking a semester-long sabbatical from my teaching position.  It is the first sabbatical I have had — never taking more than a one month vacation from teaching/preaching, of which two weeks of that summer vacation is always spent on retreat in a Catholic Abbey.  I have filled my time with family and prayer.  I have contemplated where God is leading me as I ponder retirement.

Contemplative prayer — In a few days, I will enter a Jesuit retreat center where I will reside for an undetermined length of time.  Maybe a month, maybe more.  I do not need to be back in the USA until August.  I have spent most of my adult life in front of a classroom — teaching.  Teaching theology at the high school level, teaching ancient Christianity and world religions and all things relating to Religious Studies at the university level.  I love teaching.  I love teaching about God.  I love teaching about Christianity.  I love learning about other religions so that I can teach about them.  God led me to the classroom, and there I have been for over 30 years.

As I approach retirement age — although not mandatory — I need to figure out the next phase of this journey called life.  Thus, the extended retreat where I will be cloistered for part of the time.  God has a plan that only He knows.  As a child of God, I need to listen to Him and follow His guiding hand.  Where will He lead me next?  Each summer, when I am on retreat — for a short two weeks — it has become more difficult to reenter the world.  I am drawn to a life of contemplation.  I have spent my career being “public,” speaking before groups, socializing with fellow academics or fellow priests or congregations.  In reality, I am the ultra-introvert.  I prefer to be alone.  Quiet.  What I hope to discern during this extended retreat is whether I would serve God well by being a spiritual director at a retreat center.  Should I trade my absent-minded professor garb for my clerical garb?

I have much to pray about over the next several weeks — not just about my future, but prayers for my family, prayers for my friends, prayers for the world.  I know a few people who are hoping I will blog about St. Patrick — after all, I am in Ireland, I am Irish, and I was born on St. Pat’s Day!  However, I will be cloistered so I doubt if I will write anything about the patron saint of the land I love.

Until I return — my prayers to all of my readers.  Please pray for me, too!

God bless . . . .

St. Valentine’s Day

I have to laugh!  Today is Valentine’s Day — a day for romantics to remember their sweethearts.  A day of hearts, of chocolates, of kisses between lovers.  It wasn’t until I received an email from a friend requesting that I write about St. Valentine’s Day that I even gave it a thought.  I am a Catholic priest — it’s not like I have a valentine! +;-)  But, realizing that there is more to today’s celebration, and knowing what my friend was requesting, I thought I should write about St. Valentine himself.  When I opened this blog to write a new post, there was a message saying, “Inspire me or give me hints,” or something to that effect.  When I clicked on that link, here is what was given me:  Write about your strongest memory of heart-pounding belly-twisting nervousness: what caused the adrenaline? Was it justified? How did you respond?  Do you see why I laughed???  For me, my strongest memory of “heart-pounding belly-twisting nervousness” was the day I was ordained.  

I confess, St. Valentine is a saint I know very little about.  Thus, I am “cheating” and looking at Wikipedia.  Now, just so you know, if any of my students were to use Wikipedia as a resource when writing a paper, well, um, I would not be kind in grading.  Since I doubt if any of you who are reading this are going to grade me, I am allowing myself a moment of laziness.  

Rather than celebrating St. Valentine on the date of his birth, or the date he did something extraordinary, St. Valentine’s Day is celebrated on the date he was martyred, February 14, 270 — give or take a few years, since no one is sure.  I find it somewhat ironic that we celebrate the saint of love on the day he was beheaded.  Historically, there is no reliable evidence that Valentine was one person or more than one.  According to some sources, Valentine was a priest in Rome during the reign of Claudius II.  Valentine was apprehended by Roman soldiers after he was found to be marrying Christian couples and assisting those who were being persecuted in Rome under Emperor Claudius II.  Being sent to the prefect of Rome, Valentine refused to renounce his Christian faith and was imprisoned.  Claudius liked Valentine, until Valentine made a tactical error when he tried to convert Claudius II to Christianity.  Valentine was then beaten with clubs and beheaded.  In 496 CE, Pope Gelasius pronounced February 14th as a celebration in honor of his martyrdom.

But, where does all the lovey-dovey stuff come from?  I am moving far out of my area of expertise with this one.  Or, could it be this is not within my comfort zone???  According to what I have been able to learn, the first recorded association of Valentine’s Day with romantic love is in Chaucer’s Parlement of Foules, written in 1382.

As all good Catholics should know, saints are not supposed to rest in peace — they are expected to keep busy, performing miracles and interceding in our prayers.  Being in jail or being dead is no excuse for non-performance of the supernatural!  😉  One legend says that, while awaiting his execution, Valentine restored the sight of his jailer’s blind daughter.  On the eve of his execution, he wrote a farewell note to the jailer’s daughter and signed it, “From your Valentine.”  

That is all this priest can muster to write about St. Valentine’s Day! Will this do, Margy?  I won’t promise to do better with St. Patrick because I will, most likely, be cloistered in an Irish monastery.  Before I end this post, I would like to share a St. Valentine’s Day prayer:

I said a Valentine prayer for you
and asked the Lord above
to fill your heart and bless your soul
With the precious gift of love.

I asked Him for sincere love
The kind that’s meant to stay
Just like the generous love
You give to those you touch each day.

I prayed for love from family
And from every cherished friend
Then I asked the Lord to give you
His love that knows no end.

God Bless . . . .

Ash Wednesday

Ash Wednesday is the first day of the 40 day season of Lent (excluding Sundays).  For Christians, Lent is a somber season of reflection, penance, and fasting in preparation of the resurrection of our Savior on Easter through which we attain redemption.

Many Christian churches have Ash Wednesday services in which the priest or minister places a cross of ashes on the foreheads of the believers. The ashes are made by burning the blessed palms used in the Palm Sunday celebration of the previous year.  The ashes are then christened with Holy Water and are scented by exposing them to incense.  While the ashes symbolize penance and contrition, they are also a reminder that God is gracious and merciful to those who call on Him with repentant hearts.  God’s Divine mercy is of paramount importance during the Lenten Season, and the Church calls on us to seek that mercy during the 40 days of Lent with reflection, prayer, and penance.

The ashes are a symbol of the sacrament of penance, and they help us to develop a spirit of humility and sacrifice.  “Remember, you are from dust , and to dust shall you return” (Genesis 3:19).  In ancient times, Christians who had committed grave faults were required to perform public penance.  On Ash Wednesday, the Bishop blessed the shirts worn by the penitent and sprinkled over them ashes made from burning the palms from the previous year.  Then, while the faithful recited the Seven Penitential Psalms, the penitents were turned out of the church because of their sins.  This turning away was symbolic of Adam being turned out of the Garden of Eden because of his disobedience.  The penitents did not enter the church again until Maundy Thursday after having been reconciled by the toil of 40 days’ penance and sacramental absolution.  Later, whether public or secret penitents, all Christians came to receive ashes out of devotion.

Ash Wednesday and Lent are times of fasting and abstinence.  From the time we were children, my brothers, sisters, and I learned the importance of fasting to become closer to God and his merciful forgiveness.  Traditionally, Christians “give up” something for Lent — chocolate, coffee, soda pop, or cussing seem to be common.  My parents asked us to “give up” something that would “give gain” to someone else.  We would “give up” our allowances to buy food for the hungry, we would “give up” play time with our friends to spend time with the elderly in nursing homes or the crippled children at Shriner’s Hospital, we would “give up” piano lessons and ask our piano teacher to give “free” (we would still pay the teacher) lessons to kids whose parents couldn’t afford music lessons.  By “giving up” to help others “gain” we learned of the sacrifice Jesus “gave” so we Christians could “gain” salvation.  Fasting from food was sometimes more difficult when we watched our non-Catholic friends enjoying after school snacks.  Lent for us meant smaller meals, no in-between meal snacks, no meat on Fridays.  Fortunately, from a religious perspective, we attended Catholic schools so all of our classmates were also “suffering” through the fasting of Lent.  It was when we got home from school and our public school friends wanted to play and eat snacks that it became more challenging.

What will be interesting about this Lenten season, for me, is that I will be in Ireland for most of it — cloistered in a monastery.  Ash Wednesday will be honored, as usual, and then I depart for my ancestral home the following week for an undetermined length of time.  I can’t recall ever spending Easter in Ireland, a country that does not understand the concept of “separation of church and state” as we Americans do.  The State is Roman Catholic.   The Irish imp in me is feeling a need to stir up the pot — to rebel against authority.  My parents taught us well to believe in social justice, to work towards making better lives for the least.  Ireland has a few social justice issues that I believe need to be addressed.  It is quite possible that this Lenten season, I will look for an Irish cause to donate my time, to “give gain” to a worthy cause.

My prayer for all who read this is that you have a very blessed Lent — that you allow for time to reflect, to repent, and to fast in order to bring your spirit closer to God.

Married Priests???

St. Ignatius of Loyola

I am also a Jesuit.  A Catholic priest.  My vows are sacred and I would never do anything, knowingly, to break those vows.  I love the Catholic Church and what it represents in my life, in the lives of my family, and to the world as a sacred place of worship.  My personal relationship with Jesus began when I was five years old, sick with polio.  Jesus visited my hospital bed and he comforted a scared, sick little boy.  Jesus has walked beside me ever since.I teach.  It is what God has called me to do.  Teach.  I love my job.  I love my students.  I love sharing my passion for historical Christianity with those who have a desire to learn.  I have been a teacher for so long I think I have lost track of the years — high school, elementary school, college.  My present job as professor of religious studies began almost 20 years ago.

The days of polio are long forgotten by those never touched by that horrific disease.  The vaccine became readily available the same month I got sick.  My brothers and sisters were inoculated in their schools; I hadn’t begun school, yet, so I was the “lucky” person to contract polio.  Very few Americans remember the disease, nor do they know of anyone who is a survivor.  Unfortunately, polio remains prevalent in some underdeveloped countries — unlike smallpox, polio has not been completely eradicated from the earth.

As I recovered from that bout of polio so many years ago, I spent a great deal of time with our family priest, who was also a family friend having been a childhood friend of my parents.  Father Mike was permitted to visit me every day in the hospital where he taught me the Rosary and read Bible stories.  After being released from the hospital, I still had months of rehabilitation.  I couldn’t run and play with my siblings and my friends, so I’d hang out with my priest, my friend, my godfather.  I’d been named for Father Mike and, because of polio, we had a very special bond which remained tight until his death at the age of 95.  It was that bond and my friendship with Jesus that led me toward the priesthood.

From the time I was five years old I knew I wanted to serve God and those feelings never wavered.  As I was studying and training, I realized my talents would better serve in a classroom rather than in a parish.  It was Father Mike’s dream that I would come home and become the pastor of “our” parish when he retired.  For two years I tried but I missed the classroom — hence my move to another state where I was hired at a public university.

Jesuit Circuit Rider

After 18 years of teaching at that university, I am taking a semester sabbatical.  I came home to spend time with my family and to enjoy the beauty of my home state.  I have also been filling in for vacationing priests — the past few weeks have been fulfilling and exciting.  At times I have felt like a circuit riding Jesuit of years gone by  — all I needed was a horse, a long black cassock, and a big brimmed hat!

At one of the churches I visited this past week, I had an experience that proved to be more emotional than I expected.  One of the priests I filled in for was vacationing with — his wife.  His wife.  How, do you ask, can a Catholic priest be married?  This particular priest, as with most married priests, comes from a Protestant background, most of them Episcopalian.  Following God’s call, he was first ordained in the United Church of Christ and later in the Episcopal Church.  Because I never met the man, I do not know his reasons for renouncing his Episcopal orders, but I can guess.  The Episcopal Church has become, in the eyes of many, too liberal — ordaining women, ordaining gay priests, acknowledging gay marriage.  I do not know if these are the reasons this particular priest left the Episcopal Church, but it is a good guess.  I have known for quite some time that Episcopalian priests have been given permission by the Holy See to be ordained as Catholic priests.  But, this was the first time it hit me in the face, so to speak.

I live all my vows faithfully — the vow of chastity, the vow of poverty, and the vow of obedience.  Over the past 30 + years, there have been times when I have doubted my human ability to be faithful to my vows.  But, the strength of my devotion to God has always prevailed and, with Jesus standing by my side, I have found the courage to work through my doubts and to remain faithful.  And so, this week, I wondered why it is possible for a former Episcopal priest to be ordained Catholic and bring his wife and children with him?  Why can he be married and I can’t?  Why can he come home after a long day “at the office” to the loving arms of his soul mate and I can’t?  Why?  Why must I suffer through bouts of loneliness when he doesn’t?  I was born Catholic — a cradle Catholic.  I knew when I was a child I wanted to become a priest.  Being as idealistic as any young man entering the priesthood, I wanted to save the world and I knew I could live my vows.  What I did not know is how difficult it is sometimes — to be lonely.  To come home to an empty house.  It just doesn’t seem fair.  I can hear my mom saying, “But, Michael, life isn’t fair.”  Every kid learns that lesson.  Right?  Right.

This, too, shall pass — like all the other times I have wondered about the fairness of the vow of chastity. Priests haven’t always been required to be celibate and, I believe, sometime in the far off future, a liberated Pope will change the “rules” and allow priests to marry.

I know many who are reading this are saying, “Yeah, right, a celibate priest.”  We all know what has been in the media for the past couple of decades.  Please remember how the media plays on the negative.  With all the “bad” priests that have made the news, how many “good” priests have you heard or read about?  Not many, I’d guess.  For the record, the good priests do outnumber the bad ones.

As a dear friend tells me frequently, I will sleep with my angels, and pray they soothe my soul.  God bless each and every person who reads this.  God bless all those who serve Him, whether they be Catholic or Protestant or Jewish or Muslim.  God bless.

Happy New Year 2013

Whew!  We made it through the end of the Mayan calendar and survived December 21, 2012.  We survived another Presidential election and, no matter which side of the fence each of us sits, the United States of America is still the greatest country in the world.  Just ask all the immigrants who are crossing our borders — whether from Central and South America, or from Africa, or from the Middle East, or from . . . wherever.

I am visiting my family in my home state.  I love coming “home.”  My parents have long since passed, but all my brothers and sisters and their families live in our hometown.  My sister, Kelly, is the social butterfly who loves to entertain.  Every year she manages to coordinate a spectacular Christmas Eve celebration and feeds about 75 people — yes, our family is HUGE.  After dinner, we open presents before attending Midnight Mass at our family church where we fill several pews.  Christmas morning is quiet, with individual families opening stockings and gifts from Santa, breakfast, and then Mass at noon.

New Year’s Eve traditions change — some years there is a party, some years are quiet, some years we see a movie.  This year, several of us drove to a ski resort to watch skiers ski down the mountain carrying torches.  There must have been about 100 skiers and it was spectacular.  Once the skiers were at the bottom, the fireworks began.  Beautiful against the white snow.  Although the revelers continued to party, we had movie tickets and needed to head back down the mountain.

“Les Misérables”, the movie.  Wow!  Wow!  The consensus among the family is that Hugh Jackman should be nominated for an Academy Award for best actor.  Anne Hathaway should be nominated for best supporting actress.  The movie is excellent and seeing the scenes helped to make the plot more understandable from the theatrical play.  By the time we arrived home, it was nearly 1 a.m. — late for this early riser.

New Year’s Day 2013 — a quiet day to celebrate the Solemnity of Mary, the Holy Mother of God.  For Catholics, January 1, the Octave (8th) day of the Christmas Season, is the day designated as a liturgical feast honoring Mary’s divine motherhood of Jesus the Christ.  The title “Mother of God” is a western derivation from the Greek, Theotokos, the God-bearer.  The term was adopted at the Third Ecumenical Council held at Ephesus in 431 C. E. as a way to assert the Divinity of Christ.  If Jesus is God, then Mary is the Mother of God.

Those outside the Catholic tradition view our veneration of Mary has a form of worship.  What we worship is her saintly motherhood.  Mary is the ideal mother.  Mary’s mother, St. Anne, is the patron saint of mothers.  To my Catholic family, there is no better way to begin a new year than by honoring Our Lady.  We welcome her in prayer and turn the page of the calendar imploring her blessing and intercession.  As children, we not only celebrated the Mary but our mother, Mary, on this feast day.  My dad taught us well how to honor our mother, the woman who gave us life and who nurtured us until her death at the age of 90.

Traditions — family, feast meals, celebrating the lives of the Holy Family, ringing in the new year with family and friends, and laughing about New Year’s resolutions unfulfilled.  The same resolutions are made year after year after year and most of them are forgotten within a few weeks.  My very dear friend, who is Methodist, made a commitment to read the entire Protestant Bible in 2012 — and she did it!!  Her resolution for 2013 is to read the rest of the Bible — the Apocryphal/Deuterocanonical books plus the essays that are included in The New Oxford Annotated New Revised Standard Version (NRSV).  Her husband’s New Year’s resolution is to guide his wife on an amazingly wonderful trip to Southeast Asia.  My New Year’s resolution for 2013 is to enjoy my semester-long sabbatical!!!!!!  No classes, no students — whatever shall I do?!

And, so, we begin another year.  Another year of ups and downs, of hills and valleys, of traveling life’s highways.  My prayer for all — for our world, for all nations, for Mother Earth, for all Earth’s inhabitants, for my family, for my friends, for my colleagues both at the university and at church — is that we find peace.  The world has never been peaceful, nor will it, but may we find peace amongst ourselves.  I pray that families find accord when they are faced with difficult decisions, I pray our government can learn to compromise on all issues, I pray the United States becomes “one nation, undivided” once again.  We have become so polarized over the past two decades, that we are in need of much healing.  My prayer is for peace, for contentment, and for happiness for ALL.

God Bless!

Christmas Hymns

Ah . . . the joy of singing Christmas Hymns.

My family is musical — I am a classically trained pianist, my brothers play the guitar, trumpet, and drums, while my sisters play the viola, flute, and clarinet.  From a very young age, we formed our own little orchestra and we were known as the Musical O’Malleys among our friends and neighbors.  Our love for music has been passed down to subsequent generations and now, when we all gather for Christmas or in the summer, our little orchestra can have as many as 25.  Not bad for one family, eh?

How many of us think about where the traditional Christmas hymns have come from?  How many of us pay attention to the composer or lyricist of the hymns in our church hymnals?  Whether Catholic or Anglican or Lutheran or Presbyterian or Baptist, it is likely many of the hymns you sing in church on Sunday, or from your living room at Christmastime, were written by Charles Wesley.  Charles and his brother, John, were Anglican priests who founded the Methodist movement in the 18th Century.  Although John is given most of the credit for founding the Methodist Church, it is Charles who wrote over 6,000 hymns.  Six thousand!

Hark! The Herald Angels Sing, written in 1739 but revised by Charles’ good friend, George Whitefield, in 1753, is one of my favorites.  The lyrics are very devotional — with references to scripture in both the Old and New Testaments.

The Twelve Days of Christmas was written as a code for Catholics to learn the catechism and doctrine of the Roman Catholic Church during a time of persecution in England.  Between 1558 and 1829, it was illegal for Catholics to practice their faith publicly or privately.  If caught, they could be imprisoned or worse — hanged, drawn, and quartered.  (In my Thanksgiving Musings post, I addressed the English oppression of the Irish.  Making criminal the ability to practice their Catholic faith was another way for the English to oppress and control their subjects.)  This particular story of the origins of The Twelve Days of Christmas could, very well, be pure legend but, because it is a story I have heard since my childhood, I tend to believe there is some truth behind it.

Most of the traditional favorite Christmas hymns we sing year after year after year, date to the 18th and 19th centuries.  Many of them do have historical significance and most are scripturally based.

My favorite hymn, Silent Night, would not have been written if not for a broken organ.  It was the year 1818, Christmas Eve in the Austrian Alps, when the church organ at the newly constructed Church of St. Nicholas, quit working.  Distraught over his planned midnight Mass, Father Joseph Mohr, quickly wrote a new poem — “Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright . . . .”  Father Mohr explained to his organist, Franz Gruber, the situation and asked him to compose a simple tune to accompany the Father Mohr’s lyrics.  That night, Christmas Eve 1818, Silent Night was sung for the first time as a duet accompanied by a guitar.  Many congregations sing Silent Night the way it was intended — accompanied by a guitar rather than an organ — with the lights dimmed and each person holding a lit candle.  Mmmm . . . . Such a beautiful and holy song, made more beautiful by the peacefulness of a candle-lit church.