Jen’s Journal

During the Easter Vigil last night, something unusual caught my attention.  In the reading from Genesis about Abraham and Isaac, the boy Isaac, upon reaching the place for sacrifice, says to his father, “Here are the fire and the wood, but where is the sheep for the holocaust?”  To what must have been a heart-wrenching question, Abraham evasively replies, “God himself will provide the sheep for the holocaust.”

Right after this interchange, Abraham goes on to build the altar of sacrifice and we are told that he arranged the wood on it and tied up his son, ready to slaughter him until God intervened.  What we aren’t told in this scene, however, and what I am most intrigued by, is what else Isaac had to say.  That is, surely Isaac must have questioned his father further when Abraham began to tie him up and place him on the altar of sacrifice.  Surely he must have pleaded for his life, not understanding why his father would do something so horrible.  How could Abraham listen to the cries of his son and yet still prepare to slaughter him?  How did Abraham subdue him?

In the case of Jesus, we know the agony that the Son experienced as he approached his impending death.  He even sweat blood.  But what about Isaac?

                                                              

I love this image by Fra Angelico of St. Dominic clinging to the cross.  In fact, it’s probably one of my favorite of Fra Angelico’s paintings, and it has been especially helpful to me in my prayer these past few weeks.  I think what I love best is that Dominic isn’t sitting in front of the crucified Christ looking up at him or even bowing down in front of him (both perfectly good and fine ways to spend time with the crucified Christ).  Rather, he is clinging to the cross as if it is an extension of Christ himself.  It’s as if Dominic is so longing for Christ that he is clinging to that which is closest to him, that which also happens to be the object of his greatest torment and his greatest triumph.  He is returning Christ’s love, demonstrated and effected on the cross, with his own tender love for Christ.  He is embracing Christ and whatever following Christ might require.  No matter what happens in life, we can’t erase the cross and all that it stands for.  We can’t erase God’s act of love, God’s solidarity with us, God’s presence in the midst of suffering, and the hope that God has ensured through the triumph of the cross.

On this Good Friday, maybe take a moment or two to look at Christ on the cross, to touch Christ on the cross, to embrace Christ on the cross, to long for Christ.  Rest in God’s love and allow that love to stir up a response within you.  Don’t so much focus on the pain of the passion, but rather focus on the love.

It’s that time of year again… the clocks have been moved forward, AI is on Spring Break, and the weather is teasingly warm!  Spring is almost here.  And I, for one, cannot wait!  There’s just something special and beautiful and wonderful about this time of year.  The sun is out longer, the flowers and trees are starting to bud, the warmer temperatures coax everyone and their mother out of doors… life and light are everywhere!  And after a long, cold, dreary winter, that’s exactly what we all need!

Of course, this time of year is also a preparation for Easter, and those dreary, rainy, chilly days of early Spring remind us of this time of anxious waiting.  Lent indeed is both a time of sorrow and of joy, a time of sadness and a time of hope.  One of my favorite passages which applies well to this time of year comes from Joyce Rupp’s Praying Our Goodbyes.  Basically, Rupp says that Lent without Easter isn’t enough.  The suffering and sadness of Christ’s passion aren’t complete without the Resurrection.  Lent must be, above all, a hope-filled time.  Because hidden in the darkness of a flower bud or the grayness of a rainy day is something beautiful which is about to break forth in all its glory.  Christ’s Incarnation and Resurrection have made all things new and how can we do anything but prepare in joyful anticipation for that glorious day when we will share with Christ more fully in his great gift of new and eternal life?

Have a blessed and hope-filled Lent.

This past weekend, I went on a roadtrip with a priest to visit a convent.  And yes, to a Church geek like me, those words sound like music to my ears!

Near the end of last semester, I had mentioned to Fr. Scott Steinkerchner, OP, that I was thinking of taking a trip up to Springfield, IL to visit the Dominican sisters there.  Scott and I had previously talked about my vocational journey and agreed that Springfield might be a good fit for me, but I was pleasantly surprised when Scott replied to my mention of a trip by offering to accompany me on such a visit.  And so, Scott set up the trip for this past weekend, and we were off!

I’m not sure which part of the trip I enjoyed more – the conversation with Scott during the drive to and from Springfield or the time that I spent with the sisters – but it was a really great experience overall.  The Springfield sisters seem to be a really balanced community that  encompasses all that I have been looking for in a religious congregation.  And there is nothing that I felt the least bit uncomfortable about!  I didn’t have that “this is so awesome and I want to spend the rest of my life here” kind of feeling (yet), but this community definitely has potential when it comes to my discernment.  I’m looking forward to getting to know them better as time goes on to see if this is indeed the community that God is calling me to join.  Keep me in your prayers.

I’d like to thank Scott and the Springfield sisters for making this trip possible and wonderful.  And of course, I’d like to thank God, too, for continuing to bless me with so many beautiful experiences in my life.

Happy Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God!  And Happy New Year, too.

It seems that I’m getting quite a tour of Maryland churches this Christmas season, and I keep finding fascinating things to share!  Today’s discovery: I unknowingly spent the first 9 years of my life with St. Dominic right in front of my face!

Since last night was New Year’s Eve, I decided to spend the evening celebrating with my brother and sister-in-law at their home in Baltimore.  This home is a reincarnation of our childhood home – my bro and sis-in-law had the house stripped all the way down to the foundation and rebuilt – and so is located across the street from our childhood parish.  I didn’t plan to spend the night with my brother and sister-in-law after the celebration, but we stayed up late, I was tired, and my bro didn’t want me to drive home with other crazy drivers on the road, so I agreed to stay.  Unfortunately, with my crazy sleeping issues, I didn’t end up waking up until after 11 this morning, and that meant that I had slept through Mass at most of the churches in the area.  With today being a Holy Day of Obligation and a pretty cool solemnity, I knew that I would be pissed if I couldn’t find a parish to attend, so I went online and frantically searched for a church in the Baltimore metro area with a New Year’s Day Mass at some time after noon.  Things weren’t looking so great and I was ready to give up my search when I heard the sound of church bells ringing from the church across the street.  I quickly found their bulletin online and discovered that they were indeed having a noon Mass today, and it was only 12:01pm, so I could totally make it to the church and not be too late.

If you read my last post about Midnight Mass for Christmas, you might remember that I didn’t want to go to this particular parish for Christmas because the Mass would probably be bilingual (= most likely long and possibly boring) and the priest is a little weird when it comes to visitors/people who aren’t Polish.  I wasn’t going to make any complaints today, though, because when it comes down to it, Mass is Mass.  And it’s good that I had that attitude because I walked into, not a bilingual Mass, but rather, a Mass entirely in Polish!  I only understood 3 words the whole time: amen, alleluia, and hosanna.  Fortunately, I know the Mass well enough that I could follow along and mumble English responses under my breath, but the homily gave me plenty of time to let my eyes (and my thoughts) wander around the church.  And that’s when I made my exciting Dominican discovery!

You see, this church is named Holy Rosary, and while I’ve sort of associated the church with the rosary in my mind, I never made the connection between the church and St. Dominic… that is, never until today, when I looked up above the altar and saw him!  St. Dominic, receiving the rosary from Mary, Queen of Heaven.  Given the fact that this church has been around for some time and still relies on big, metal fans for cooling instead of upgrading to air conditioning, I doubt that this statue of St. Dominic and Mary is a new addition.  Rather, I think St. Dominic must have been there all along.  There when I was baptized, there when I made my first communion, there every Sunday for the first 9 years of my life.  And I didn’t even know it!  In fact, back then, I didn’t even know that there was a St. Dominic.  My awareness of the Dominicans didn’t come until college.  But still, it’s kind of cool to look back and know that St. Dominic has been watching over me, silently, since the very beginning.  A sign of things to come?  We shall see…

In the meantime, I want to close with the Evening Prayer antiphons for this Marian feast.  I hope you find them as inspiring as I have:

Ant. 1: O marvelous exchange!  Man’s Creator has become man, born of a virgin.  We have been made sharers in the divinity of Christ who humbled himself to share in our humanity.

Ant. 2: By your miraculous birth of the Virgin you have fulfilled the Scriptures: like a gentle rain falling upon the earth you have come down to save your people.  O God, we praise you.

Ant. 3: Your blessed and fruitful virginity is like the bush, flaming yet unburned, which Moses saw on Sinai.  Pray for us, Mother of God.

I’m one of those people that tends to be fond of tradition and history, and attending Midnight Mass at the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary in Baltimore this year appealed well to both of these inclinations.  In the case of tradition, no, my family does not have a long-standing practice of attending Mass at the Basilica on Christmas (in fact, this was the first time that I ever set foot in the building!), and no, the Mass was not celebrated according to the Tridentine Rite (nor would I have appreciated it if it were).  I did grow up attending Midnight Mass on Christmas eve, however, and this is where the tradition part comes in.  You see, so many parishes near where my family lives now no longer offer a Midnight Mass.  Rather, they offer a Solemn Mass at 10pm or some other seemingly random time.  According to Church law, this is all good and fine.  Indeed, we have vigil Masses in the early evenings every weekend, right?  But, I like the traditional understanding of vigil, that is, a keeping watch prayerfully at night during the hours when one would normally be sleeping.  And so, when it comes to Christmas, I like the idea of attending Mass at midnight, of welcoming in the first seconds of the new day, the day in which we remember Christ’s birth, with celebration, praise, and thanksgiving.  In the past few years, I have given in to attending the 10pm Mass at my parish on Christmas eve, primarily out of convenience, but this year, I decided that wanted to go back to that tradition of truly keeping vigil into the early hours of the new day by attending Midnight Mass.  And this decision meant that I needed to find a Church which could fulfill my longing for a prayerful and joyous midnight celebration.

Enter the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary.  In searching for a parish to attend for Midnight Mass, a couple of options popped into my head.  I could go back to my old parish that I attended during middle school.  But that parish is really small now and many of its members are up there in age, so the celebration might be rather lacking in enthusiasm.  Another option would be the parish that I originally attended as a child, the parish where my Midnight Mass attendance first began.  But, Midnight Mass at this parish was always in Polish and English, so it was super long, and these days, the new pastor tends to disapprove of non-Polish parishioners (he wouldn’t let my sister-in-law’s mother do RCIA there because she isn’t Polish!), so that might not be a great choice either.  Searching a bit deeper, I thought of the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in DC, but that would mean getting home really late because of the hour commute each way.  Or the Cathedral of Mary Our Queen in Baltimore, but the Mass there would probably be packed and perhaps a bit too showy for my tastes.  And that’s when I thought of the Baltimore Basilica, co-cathedral of Baltimore and the nation’s first cathedral!  Midnight Mass at the Basilica would be celebrated by the Urban Vicar rather than the Archbishop, so things were bound to be well-done but perhaps not as intense at at the Cathedral.  And, I had never been to the Basilica before!  How could I, the one who loves history and all things Catholic, have never set foot in the first Cathedral in the United States when it has been here in my backyard for my whole life?!

So, I did indeed attend Midnight Mass at the Basilica, and the whole experience was just perfect.  The church itself has recently been renovated to restore it to its original design, and while this renovation brought about serious changes and therefore controversy, I must say that the church looks absolutely beautiful.  The design is very simple and modeled after the design of the famous buildings of DC (think Capitol, White House, etc).  Indeed,  the same architect was responsible for both the DC buildings and the Baltimore Basilica – Benjamin Henry Latrobe.  But the simplicity is definitely elegant.  Another notable feature of the church’s design is the very light interior.  The pews are white, the marble floor is white, the ceilings are light-colored.  And to contrast with this white, the presider’s chair and the lectern are adorned with beautiful and bold red and yellow fabric.  Here are some pictures:

In addition to the beautiful setting for the Mass, the Mass itself was also really well-done.  The choir and musicians sounded great, yet it was also obvious that they were parishioners rather than professional musicians hired for the occasion.  Bishop Madden celebrated the Mass with the rector of the Basilica concelebrating, but that was it.  No huge to-do with a million priests.  The lector was a woman, most likely a regular parishioner.  And for communion, several lay people assisted the two priests with distribution.  All in all, the Mass was reverent, joyful, participative, and relatively controversy-free, just the way a Mass should be!  

To learn more about America’s First Cathedral, visit the Basilica’s website at www.baltimorebasilica.org.

I definitely think I made a good choice for Christmas Eve and hope that I can make it back to the Basilica sometime in the near future to check out the historical displays and other fascinating aspects of the church.

“In the beginning was the Word: Dominic, Preacher of Grace.”

This is the theme which Br. Carlos Aspiroz Costa, OP has invited Dominicans everywhere to reflect on in the coming year.  Below is the text from the Master’s 2008 Advent message (which can also be found here ):

Dear brothers and sisters in St. Dominic and St. Catherine:

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…and the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us” (Jn 1:1.14).

There are few scripture texts that better capture the spirit of the Advent and Christmas seasons than this one from the Prologue of John´s Gospel.  In few words, the evangelist invites us into the fullness of the mystery of the Incarnation.  This is not a spectacle that we contemplate from afar, for as the text says, the Word came to dwell “among us,” as one of us.  At the closing of the XII Synod of Bishops on the Word of God in the Life and Mission of the Church, the Synod delegates, in their Message, wrote, “In the original Greek, there are only three fundamental words: Lógos sarx eghéneto, `the Word was made flesh´.  And yet, this is the summit not only of that poetic and theological jewel which is the prologue to John´s Gospel (Jn 1:14), but it is the actual heart of the Christian faith” (II, n.4).

The birth of the Word “among us” takes on an even greater urgency in a year in which several paths cross in the life of the Church and the Order.  First, we celebrate and give thanks for the recent Synod on the Word of God, which itself took place within another grace-filled context: the year of the great apostle to the Gentiles, St. Paul.  And both of these events coincide with the ongoing unfolding of our own Dominican Jubilee Pilgrimage which will culminate in 2016, with the celebration of the 8th Centenary of the confirmation of the Order by Pope Honorius III.

For Dominic, too, the Word of God was present “in the beginning” of the miracle that gave birth to the Order of Preachers.  His entire life, lived in intimate union with the Word, invites us into a profound contemplative listening to the Word and a bold commitment to preach that very same Word to the world today.  In the Dialogue of our sister, Catherine of Siena, we read, “[Dominic] appeared as an apostle in the world, sowing the seed of my Word with great truth and luminosity, dissipating the darkness with the gift of light” (n. 158).  The Word of God that became flesh and burned in the heart of Dominic was the very same Word which he preached with ardent zeal, setting Europe on fire with the love and tender mercy of Christ.

The Blessed Dominic had a great and burning thirst for the salvation of souls, for which he was an unequaled apostle.  He gave himself to preaching with great fervor, and he exhorted and obliged his brothers to announce the Word of God by day and by night, in churches and in homes, in the fields and along the byways – in other words, in all places to speak only of God.

His Holiness, Pope Benedict XVI, in opening the Synod on the Word of God, reminds us that, “It is important that individual believers and communities enter into ever increasing intimacy with God’s Word…[for] to draw nourishment from the Word of God is [the Church’s] first and fundamental task.”  Therefore, as part of our ongoing Jubilee pilgrimage that began with the celebration of the 800th anniversary of the founding of the community of Prouilhe, the whole Dominican Family is invited to pause and focus on the following theme throughout this year of 2009:  “In the beginning was the Word: Dominic, Preacher of Grace”.  With the help of this theme, we commit ourselves to sit with Dominic at the feet of Christ, and with him, “to draw nourishment from the Word of God.”

This is the heritage of grace is shared by all of us – friars and nuns, apostolic sisters and lay Dominicans, young and old, rich and poor.  And we well know that once we have been nourished by the Word, we face the other great challenge that St. Paul had to face, summed up in his apostolic cry: “Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel!” (1 Cor 9:16).  Therefore, following the example of Dominic, we make St. Paul´s cry our own, and we do so by making it the overall guiding theme for these years of Pilgrimage, from now until we reach the Jubilee celebration of 2016.   To do this, though, we recognize the need to make one small, yet essential modification: as Dominicans we can only be true to our vocation if we cry out as a community:

“Woe to us if we do not preach the gospel!”

These words of St. Paul, said Pope Benedict in his opening address of the Synod, are, “a cry that becomes for every Christian a pressing invitation to serve Christ.”  And so we take to heart these words, recognizing in them the very Gospel that gave birth to the preaching mission of our Holy Father St. Dominic who, carying the Gospel of St. Matthew and the letters of St. Paul with him as he traveled, truly became God´s Preacher of Grace.  Each time we sing the O Lumen we invoke Dominic under this title: Prædicator Gratiæ, for it is he, the preacher, the disciple of the Word, who promises to walk with us and renew in us the gratuitous out-pouring of the Word that was present when the first seeds of the Holy Preaching were sown in the fertile ground of southern Europe.  May he unite us as a family gathered around the Word, and give us a contemplative, obedient heart, willing and ready to respond in freedom to the challenges of the Gospel in our day.

On a more personal note, as we make our way through these days of Advent towards the contemplation of the Word-made-flesh beneath the night sky of Bethlehem, I would like to add here my wishes for a most blessed and joyous Christmas for each and every member of the Dominican Family worldwide.  “Bethlehem” – the house of bread – is a reminder to us of two important realities.  First, the Incarnate Word has come to nourish us.  May we feed at his table of mercy and compassion each day of the new year.  And secondly, in a world that continues to face massive hunger and the ongoing scourge of war, let us look again to Christ, whose “words proclaim justice, instill courage to the disheartened and offer forgiveness to sinners” (Synod Message, IV, n.13).  May his words become our words, so that we, too, might proclaim the gospel of peace in his name.

Brothers and sisters, we walk this pilgrimage of faith together, as a family, encouraging one another along the way.  May the Holy Spirit anoint us as we journey forth in hope, and may St. Dominic bless us and inspire us to be ever faithful to the great heritage which he has left us.

Your brother in St. Dominic, Preacher of Grace,

bro Carlos A. Azpiroz Costa, OP
Master of the Order

- Message of the Master (Advent 2008)

Here’s an article from catholicnews.com:

Evangelization in 21st century: Arkansas bishop joins Facebook

LITTLE ROCK, Ark. (CNS) — The days of Facebook only being for college and high school students are long gone. Little Rock Bishop Anthony B. Taylor is believed to be the first U.S. Catholic bishop to join the popular Web site. As of Dec. 11, he had 894 friends worldwide and counting. Started in 2004, Facebook rivals MySpace as one of the largest social networking sites on the Internet. Shortly after being ordained as Little Rock’s bishop in June, Bishop Taylor said he was told a fan club had been created about him on Facebook. When he went online to look at the page, he realized he had to sign up to see it, so he did. Not long after posting his information and a photo, the word spread fast and before long he had more friend requests and group invitations than he could keep up with. “I want to be available and accessible to everybody in the diocese,” Bishop Taylor said of his membership on Facebook. “This is a way to be present to the younger people of the diocese.”

While you’re checking out Bishop Taylor’s profile and scanning for the Benedict XVI fan page, be sure to check out AI’s page on Facebook as well and become a fan of your favorite school of theology/ministry!

Here is a recent article from the Catholic News Service website.  I’m not sure of what comments I have regarding it yet, but I will at least post the article for your reflection.

Theologians’ task is to reflect on truth taught by church, pope says
By Cindy Wooden
Catholic News Service

If each person and each society recognized the tenets of natural law, he said, it would guarantee that everyone’s freedom and dignity would be recognized and it would protect them from “ideological manipulation and exploitation” by those who happen to have more power.

I forgot to include this in my last post on Advent, but Dorothy Murphy, the Provincial Council President of the Lay Dominicans of the Eastern Province, recently quoted an address by JPII in E-Lumen (the e-newsletter of the Eastern Province Lay Dominicans) which I think goes along well with my Advent musings.  In 2002, JPII declared

ʺThe liturgy of Advent helps us to understand fully the value and meaning of the mystery of Christmas. It is not about commemorating he historical event, which occurred some 2,000 years ago in a little village of Judea. Instead, it is necessary to understand that the whole of our life must be an ʹadvent,ʹ a vigilant awaiting of the final coming of Christ. To predispose our mind to welcome the Lord who, as we say in the Creed, one day will come to judge the living and the dead, we must learn to recognize him as present in the events of daily life. Therefore, Advent is, so to speak, an intense training that directs us decisively toward him who already came, who will come, and who comes continuously.ʺ