Michigan Ave

I walked to the Cathedral for Mass today, amazed at the numbers of shoppers on Michigan Ave. I wanted to tell them, "Hey, the lake is --> that way." On this corner, I just missed getting a photo of a family leaning over a homeless person to look at the window in Tiffany's. The homeless person is still there, behind the lady in the green shirt; I don't know if he's visible in the picture, though. The Cathedral also had its assortment of people on the margins of things. A man a few pews ahead of me was making large gestures with every word of response to the liturgy. I was kind of nervous about what would happen at the sign of peace, but he simple turned in a solemn manner and bestowed a kind of papal blessing on those around him: a big sign of the Cross. Right before the Alleluia, another poor soul came in not dressed in rags, but wearing a kind of rag or towel as a shawl. He made his way across the foot of the altar, and then turned with a full genuflection. Sadly, even though he settled into a pew, the security guard seems to have escorted him to the far back. (The Cathedral is open all day, and many homeless people use it as a day shelter, so there is a guard on duty all the time, too.)

Then there was Robert. Robert was once featured in a Chicago photo collage in the Tribune. He would sit on the Michican Avenue bridge all day, banging out rhythms on a plastic bucket, and periodically calling out, "Spare change?" He had been drumming like this since he was 13--about 40 years. Well, I guess they are cracking down on unlicensed musicians, because Robert lost his stool (an empty crate) and his drum (the 5-gal bucket) and was standing by Walgreens with a paper cup. He still had his usual baritone "Spare change" chant, though. To me, the guys who make "music" on the streets with buckets or pawnshop saxophones aren't really beggars. They are in the realm of buskers, even though... without the talent. At least they are taking some initiative! And making some sort of contribution, like the gypsies in the Roman subways with their accordians. But now Robert has lost his "drum." And there is one more panhandler on Michigan Ave.

Michigan Ave

Bartimaeus in today's Gospel

Actually, I wrote this last night and am only posting it today, hence it is out of liturgical sync.

I love the story of the blind beggar who kept crying out for Jesus' attention there on the roadside in Jericho, and who, once he could see, followed Jesus "on the way." (And note well: Jesus was heading to Jerusalem and his death!)

Today I found myself wondering if people who do not live or work in a downtown area can really "get" the scene of this Gospel event. On my way to Mass, I passed four beggars in one block--and it was a short block. Most are regulars, although there was a new one working the lightpost by the popcorn shop. A fifth person in that same block was not exactly a beggar, since he was offering for sale the bi-weekly newspaper that is specifically published to give people a "leg up" from living in the streets. He held a paper out to me and asked, "Did you get yours today?" When I told him I didn't have any money, he replied very politely, "Then say a prayer for me," which I did as I continued on to St. Peter's.

We have a couple of blind beggars in the Loop, too. One even has a tin cup. The other doesn't count as a beggar, because he sells the paper. He stands on Michigan Avenue, ramrod straight, and repeats the title of the paper (Streetwise), but in a way that makes me think he may also have a hearing impairment.

Earlier in the week, I crossed paths with another person who seemed to be homeless. He was walking somewhat aimlessly down Randolph St, but when he passed by me he automatically shook his paper cup of coins in my direction.

The paper cups, usually a Starbucks Grande, generate a lot of the background sound here in the Loop. Depending on the size and quantity of coins, there is a kind of rustle or rattle. There are on average, three paper cups per city block and one or two newspaper sellers. The other day I crossed a new seller, a woman, whose handicapped son sat in a small folding chair next to her, drooling on the ground as he slapped his toy lion over and over on the sidewalk. I thought of that woman's determination to provide for her son in any way she could. That was one heroic lady.

I think a lot of our cup-shakers are hustlers of one kind or another. They will play any game you want. Some of them give me the creeps. (It didn't help that a few months back the Tribune highlighted a street person who is charged with 13 violent attacks against women, most of them perpetrated within a block or two of us.)

Fr. Groeschel said he would always slip some quarters in his pockets for the street people, lest the Lord bring the matter up at the great tribunal. Goodness knows, we don't have any extra quarters hanging around, nor could I bring myself to giving them to some of these characters, but I do try to give them a greeting and an acknowledgement, a kind of recognition of their humanity. Sometimes they mistake this for an opening toward a handout, and that makes it all the more difficult. Sometimes, of course, my habit makes me a target for requests or expectations that I can't meet. For some reason, even when there is a group of us together, the street people all turn to me! It is something of the community joke. I guess they think I'm the superior, because I'm the oldest. I don't know. It does weigh on me. But that's the scene of today's Gospel. No wonder the bystanders had to tell Bartimaeus that Jesus was calling for him. In the hub-bub, with all the beggars hoping to be heard and noticed, the blind man wouldn't have been able to return Jesus' glance. Wouldn't have known that he had caught Jesus' eye.

So what's in your fridge door?

• Butter (two sticks, standing upright in a corner)
• Crumbled feta
• Jalapeno slices
• Trappist elderberry jelly
• Almond butter
• Pork bulgogi marinade
• Yeast
• One plastic packet of soy sauce
• Atkins barbeque sauce
• Smuckers grape jelly
• Maraschino cherries
• Unidentifed commodity in a small plastic container
• Prepared wasabi in a tube (family size)
• Coctail onions
• Pecan syrup (from a Christmas present from my mom and dad)
• Chinese mustard
• Smuckers strawberry preserves
• One started bottle of red Gatorade
• Unlabeled glass jar of beige stuff
• Salsa di noci (I brought it home from Italy; a pasta sauce made from ground nuts)
• Trappist cranberry jelly
• Pickle relish
• Parmesan cheese (I wonder if the E.U. approves that denomination if it is sold in a cardboard carton)
• Korean pear bulgogi marinade
• Capers
• Hoisin sauce
• Sundried tomatoes
• Hershey’s chocolate syrup
• Yellow mustard (two containers)
• Ketchup
• Italian salad dressing
• Chopped garlic
• Old El Paso salsa
• Korean hot pepper paste

What can I say? We have a very interesting community, and cuisine to match!

Keeping Busy

Just plotted out my summer, beginning this weekend. We have a crew coming in from the publishing house to attend the RBTE, which is a trade show for Christian booksellers and publishers in the "liturgical" traditions. (There is a religious booksellers trade show in general, but the liturgical traditions don't get much visibility, because they are so outnumbered by more bible-only approaches.) Sr. Helena will be attending this year, too. Sr. Phivan and I will, in the meantime, head off to St. Paul, Mn, for a book exhibit for the Minnesota Homeschool Association. We weren't able to arrange other exhbits or events for that trip: too bad! It is a long, long drive for just one event. Oh, well. When we get back, Sr. Phivan goes for her home visit, and I get books ready to exhibit during the Scripture Seminar at Mundelein--it is put on by the Archdiocese of Chicago Office for ongoing formation in ministry, and they give me free room, board and "tuition" for the seminar in exchange for running the book table. I love Mundelein! It gives me a chance, weather permitting, to sit by the lake and make my meditation while the fish jump out of the water and the herons soar above it. When that is done, I have a few days to pack up and then go to Boston to give the sisters there for retreat a little seminar of my own, on the Founder. Then back to Chicago, where I have a *free* ticket to the Wired Magazine "NextFest" of futuristic technology. And then I have a few days to pack up again for Boston, this time for my own retreat--and to give my presentation on Fr. Alberione one last time. (I have a lot of work to do on it, because I promised the sisters that they would get all my notes in the end, but my notes are a mess.) After retreat, community meetings and some doctor stuff, I return to Chicago for ten days, during which time I need to pull together a talk for the religion teachers of the Archdiocese of New Orleans (hurray!) on media resources for teaching the Liturgy of the Word. Then: off to New Orleans to celebrate:

1) Mom and Dad's Golden Anniversary

2) My sister and her husband's 15th anniversary

3) My own 30th anniversary of entrance

and

4) My cousin Betsy's wedding.

Lots going on. Big family. Then I give my talk (hopefully well-prepared and motivating) to the religion teachers and get ready for...

September!

There are so many other things I wish I could fit in, but don't know how. For example, I just got an e-mail from the musician at Santa Susanna's in Rome. I used to prepare lyrics for him, and he is hoping to break into the US liturgical music world, but most of his stuff is in Italian, and would I be able to craft English lyrics that work with the music???? (I'd love to, but when??? How???)

Other things I'd like to do:

*sit on a swing in the sun (the swings in the Chicago parks are limited to "boys and girls 12 years old and younger) (darn).

l*earn to play piano

*fix the bugs in my web site

*sleep (I used to joke that my favorite prayer was the "Eternal Rest") (now it's not a joke)

In case you missed this in the news...

Last week there was an attempted kidnapping of a six month old, right out of the stroller and his grandmother's care. Then over the weekend there was a kidnapping, this time a two-month old was snatched from his mother's arms by thugs who broke into the house. They knew exactly who they were after.

Yesterday, the papers announced that the infant had been found--alive and unharmed in a trash can. Some neighbor lady's dog HAD TO GO at 3 a.m. and led the woman to the alley where she found the baby.

Now it comes out that it was another neighbor who had "ordered" the kidnapping, and paid good money ($3,000) to the thugs to get her a baby, since she had been leading her boyfriend on for nine months about an impending birth. When she presented the little boy to her truck-driving, often-absent boyfriend, he was moved to tears, and then to suspicion. Turns out he reads the papers, too. Knew about the missing baby in their neighborhood. When he looked a little dubious, she grabbed the baby and ran out of the motel room where they were staying. He went to the police. She went to the trashcan.

Is this a statement on our society?

The woman involved in this deception and kidnapping has other children, by another man. She was surgically sterilized years ago. Her boyfriend has another child, too, and not by her, evidently. The strange patterns of use and abuse of relationships have made so many headlines and editorials here in Chicago. But sometimes nobody wants to say what seems obvious: these are not just signs of the breakdown of the family, or of marriage. They are the first stages of social chaos. The children who survive in situations like these--how great a percentage will turn out to have serious emotional disconnects throughout life? How many will be capable of fidelity? Heavens, how many will be capable of holding a steady job (presuming one can be found) and of contributing to a stable society?

And what are we being called on to do?

America: a Clarification

The current issue of America, in reporting on Thomas Reese's resignation, refers to a Vatican action in response to complaints about Famiglia Cristiana, a "Pauline" magazine in Italy. I have already tried to notify our publishing house about this error-but everyone is on retreat, so I am doing something provisional myself here and now:

Famiglia Cristiana is published by "StPauls," the publishing division of the Society of St. Paul, our brother community. They are a distinct canonical entity and their publishing house, imprint, logo and everything else is specific to them. In Italian, the brothers are sometimes informally called "Paolini" (notice the final "i," which is a masculine plural ending), but in publishing the adjective "Pauline" (final "e" is feminine plural) refers to the Daughters of St. Paul publishing houses. So the news service erred in using the masculine adjective to refer to the matter.

Further info: the action was limited not only to the Society of St. Paul, but to the Italian province of the Society of St. Paul. Our brothers here in the U.S. (StPauls, Alba House) were not at all touched by this, except emotionally.

Things to like about Chicago

Things to like about Chicago: Lake Michigan on a sunny Sunday.

Trying again

Okay. This is my second try. The first one was titled "Chicago has-bean," a pun-ishing reference to the bean-shaped Millennium Park "Cloud Gate" sculpture (under wraps here). Think stainless steel Jelly Belly. It is a wonderful piece of work, actually: you can walk underneath its "navel" and see yourself and the crowds and the skyline and the lake all reflected, fun-house mirror style. It is getting its final polish, and then we should be able to see it. You will also notice the diamond-topped "Stone Building" behind and to the left. That is on our corner. We are the (seemingly) empty space a few centimeters north.

Prayers for an Old Man

Well, two weeks ago we were praying for a kid who had died alone, now it is an old man in my extended family. His last act was one of reaching out--something he didn't seem to well practiced in. He had a room in an assisted living place, and hit the help button: a powerful act for an independent old guy. But he had lost the will to live quite some time ago. Perhaps there was depression involved, too, because he just kept to his room for the longest time. I don't think there was much active faith in his life, but when I was praying for him at Mass, "because he died alone," I could almost hear Jesus come back with, "alone? says who?" I called the family and they will see about having a Mass said for him. It wasn't really in the plans at first.
So please offer an extra "Eternal Rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace. Amen."
He had been a widower for about a decade, and had two wonderful sons.

More free stuff

Picked up a peanut butter M-Azing bar on my way to Mass today. No naked protesters in sight. Sr. Therese got a free canvas bag this morning when she passed by a grand opening for a bank. (Canvas bags are the BEST freebies. I got one when Staples opened in Chicago in March. And sent Sr. Helena to get one, too.) (That was after I had already gotten the free box of office supplies for being one of the first 200 customers....)

 

Adoration site

Here's another site with a Jesus webcam. It is run by the Holy Spirit Adoration Sisters (pink nuns) in Philadelphia. I've bookmarked it.

Free Stuff

Ask anyone who's lived with me recently. I love checking (and using) the coupon section in the Sunday paper, aggressively seek the best buys at the grocery (I love hearing that "You saved $42.78 by using your Preferred Card!") and willingly take the free samples from marketing teams on Michigan Avenue. I can't tell you how many bottles of those fancy sport drinks I have brought home (free). One morning, a team on one corner was giving out little bags of Chex Breakfast Blend, while another group handed out little samples of flavored coffee creamers. Then Dunkin' Donuts got in on the act and gave out coupons for a free cup o' joe. I was there. So today when marketers in the Loop were giving out the new M-Azing candy bars (of which I have already received three free full-size bars), of course I got one. I'm so brazen, I go right up to the people with their distinctive T-shirts and oversized, color-matched messenger bars and ask them what they're giving out. So I slipped my fresh candy bar into my CVS bag (having just run an errand) and went to Mass. After Mass I had another errand, and spotted an M&M T-shirt on the corner by the Daley Plaza. Cashing in called for a quick change of itinerary, so I crossed the street and waited for the next "walk" light. Good thing! That pause for the traffic light gave me time to notice the nearly naked protesters just steps away from the Candy Man. (I mean it, they were only wearing their underwear.)
I decided it would be better to forego the extra candy bar.
Just once.

Good News, Even if I'm Late Finding Out

I have been hoping that my godmother, a zealous particpant and organizer of estate sales, might find a juicer for our community--naturally my first thought had been to look on E-Bay, but given the recent events of the Eucharist being offered next to vintage toys and the like, there was no way I was even going to look. Now that I am catching up a tad on things, I find out that, lo and behold! the Catholic voice was heard and E-Bay has changed its policy on permitting Jesus to be held for ransom...
But I'm still going to hold out for Toodie and the estate sales.
As I typed, Sr. Maria, our Korean sister, came down to the basement (where the DSL line is until we can get a line run to the fourth floor) to remind me that I left some bread pudding in the oven. Haven't we been there before? But it was safe and sound. Looks great, in fact. (Isn't community wonderful?)

Potpourri

Well, after returning from Boston and then taking care of last-minute details for the Mater Dei Mass, catching up on things I had procrastinated, well, no, just not been able to fit in while taking the Dante course... Anyway, what I am saying is, after having reformatted my computer (an all-day process; three days if you count making backups of a thousand years of valuable files and family photos and then reinstalling programs and files) I am now in the basement, connected to our DSL line getting all the updates and downloading free programs on which I have become dependent. And while that is going on, I am taking my 20 years of recipes box and arranging all those clippings in a photo album so I can actually see and use them. I have noticed a disproportionate number of recipes in the "cakes" division, along with the "cookies" section, "puddings and cheesecakes" section and "muffin" section--this although I can make some really decent muffins without any recipe at all.
Doing my back-saving exercises this morning, I was remembering an article I featured in My Friend (kids magazine) years ago. It was about sourdough bread. I thought it was a fun piece, connecting the "discovery" of leavening with the epoch of the Exodus. But I got a call one Saturday morning from an irate mom who couldn't see what "bread" had to do with being Catholic, and insisted that the article (and its accompanying recipe) did not belong in a "Catholic magazine for kids." This is on my mind because I met a consultant yesterday who reviewed my kids' adoration manuscript. Bread, Eucharist, life... you know. Remember the "Friendship Bread" craze? I think it was in the late 80'. You couldn't get away from those zipper bags with the bubbling beige brew. Finally, I think everyone must have said (as I know we did!), "Enough of this! I'm baking the whole batch!" Haven't seen a starter in years.

Mater Dei Award

Well, it was a larger group than I expected, but still small enough for us to meet everyone. I was the cantor for the Pentecost Mass, which started at 10:00. I didn't have much of a voice until after Communion, and since hardly anyone knew the hymn, it ended up as a quasi-solo. (Thanks be to God I was able to reach the notes at that point!) I'm experimenting with Blogger to add some occasional special features to my blog; check back to see if they worked!

Conversations

We had a lovely community Mass for our feast of Mary, Queen of Apostles, and right now Sr. Therese is in the kitchen preparing a first class Vietnamese supper. We also have our brand new provincial superior here this weekend, since tomorrow St. Joseph's Seminary here in Chicago will give us their "Mater Dei Award," the seminary's way of recognizing the role of women in the Church. It coincides with our year-long commemoration of our 25th anniversary in Chicago. Only about 20 people will be there. so it will be more of an intimate, friendly gathering than an "event." Fine by me!
Conversation at breakfast with our Paulist chaplain and a guest, an older gentleman who has just been accepted as a seminarian for one of the midwestern dioceses, touched on the "America" situation. I recalled that a few years ago, there was a similar proceeding (involving another publisher in another country), which had been instigated not by bishops or by the faithful or even by a group agitating for reform, but by someone "in house" who had a grudge. This person involved others in monitoring the publication for anything that could be interpreted negatively, and then sent reports, resulting in action that was really a bit heavy-handed. The way the Church makes use of media is a very delicate matter, and I think we are all still learning--400 years after Gutenberg!
And that brings me to our Pauline mission. I was reflecting yesterday that years ago when presenting ourselves, we would typically point to the communications media and technologies as our special identifying mark. But now that communications has become, as JP2 said, a culture--in fact, the modern areopagus, well, everyone uses these technologies, and for the most part they use them more promptly than we do, who are hampered by institutional poverty that is very, very real, and a concern for religious poverty which sometimes shortcircuits our appropriation of the technologies we need--I mean, we are hesitant to acquire "unnecessary" gadgets, but then end up in the wake of all those others who immediately get the gadgets and figure out ways to use them. Anyway, that is just an aside. My real point is that now that communications technologies are in everyone's hands, our only distinguishing mark must be that we are entirely focused on proclaiming the Gospel. It is the Gospel, not technology, which must distinguish our mission.

Santo Subito

I wrote briefly in "Benedictus Qui Venit" about Pope Benedict's decision to dispense with the five yearwaiting period for the cause of John Paul II. What incredible times we are living in! May the grace of the Holy Spirit bemagnified in us!
Tomorrow the Pauline Family celebrates the Solemnity of Mary, Queen of Apostles, the one who always and in all times gives us Jesus. In our small convents it isn't always possible for us to have the actual liturgy of the Feast, because we do not have daily Mass in our own chapel, but at least in Chicago, we will have Mass celebratedby one of the good Paulist Fathers from Old St. Mary's. (Another fine community whose reputation gets tarnished by the actions of a few.) "Receive our prayer, O Mary, our Mother, Queen and Teacher. Beseech your Divine Son, the Lord of the Harvest, to send forth laborers into his vineyard. Alleluia."

Death of a Child

Here is the information about the child for whom Mass was offered last week. Since the family is "going public" with the story to raise awareness, I am posting it here:
The Paradise (CA) Post came out today with the obituary for my nephew Gabriel Harry Mordecai. You can read it here and sign the guest book. We also received the official finding for the cause of death: asyphyxiation by hanging: accident. Gabe did fall off of the top bunk, but he had a rope around his neck. However, it was not suicide. He was trying to get high - and he had done it before. Another kid taught Gabe and his twin how to do it. I wondered if I should draw your attention to the cause of death - but if it might help parents become aware of what their kids are doing, they can help them. Therefore, I decided to share this with you as sad and distasteful as it is. Risky behavior has always accompanied adolescence. For some of you this may be a whole new aspect of life that you have no wish to explore, and I respect that - but we need to know the reality of adolescence, the choices kids are making and why: one of the behaviors that is killing them. ... Gabe, his brother, and maybe the other kids in the story were and are familiar with God's Word - did it mean anything to him at 13 years of age? Did anyone teach about risky behavior in Bible study, homilies, religious education, in regular school? How can we help to bring faith and life closer in a meaningful way, so that faith can inform the decisions and lives of children, teens, young adults, parents? The eternal question... I am the first to admit it is very, very hard to speak publically about what has happened to my nephew, but if we do not speak of it, how do we prevent it from happening again? I think my sister went so public with this because she wants to prevent this from happening to another family. Professionals are telling her that doing something positive would help her know that others could be helped by this devastating death of her child - who was messing around as kids will do, but in a very dangerous, risky way. We were told that a few days before Gabe was brought in to the hospital, another boy, the same age, died the same way.
Thank you for your messages of prayer for our family; they mean a lot. Blessings to you and your families. May God enlighten parents and caregivers everywhere to "see" on time and respond to their children in ways that respect the body and life.

Billerica

Giving the sisters a presentation on the founder and enjoying sunshine and lilacs. Pray for Sr. Lorraine's mom who died unexpectedly yesterday.

Off to Boston/Book to Read

Well, I'm "leaving on a jet plane" (God willing, it's a jet!) and heading for Boston for a few days, just to give a presentation on the Founder to my sisters. Meanwhile, I wanted to tell you about a book I just read. I found it on the cart of books we were pulling off the shelves to go on clearance. (We have some books that have been around waiting like that since 1999. Not many, but enough to be a bit scary. You wouldn't believe the number of books that is being cleared away this time--all the "old" stuff from 1999-2003.) This book was from 2003. One of those undiscovered little treasures of a book, entitled "Believe that I am Here." It is from the notebook of a French woman involved in social ministry in Chartres. I wonder what it is with Jesus and French women. (Hey, Jesus, I'm about one third French, too, remember?!)Anyway, she records her conversations with Jesus, mostly in a Eucharistic context. It is sort of like "He and I," in which Jesus allows her a conscious awareness of his "take" on things in her life, everyday life, and the bottom line is "I am here, really  here, with you always and I want to live in  you so that life becomes a duet we play." This matches our spirituality exactly: Eucharistic and ordered to "Christ lives in me." So it was an inspiration, showing in a sense what our Founder's own insight and spirituality was, except that he stated it in his own way and was extremely circumspect about the more mystical side of his experience, although a few things slipped out here and there. Unfortunate, because if he had been more open about those things,  he would have a bigger audience today! People are always grabbing up books on mystical experience. Like this one, except somehow they missed it. Lucky me!

Promises

The first reading today (for Ascension Day) relates three promises of Jesus:

You will be baptized with the Holy Spirit;
You will receive power;
You will be my witnesses.

Of course, this is another one of those passages where Jesus doesn't say just everything. He refuses to answer the disciples directly about the time for restoring the Kingdom to Israel. Good thing! Imagine if he had said, "In 2,000 years you will still be asking the same question, and Peter's successor, Benedict XVI will be witnessing to me..." Not very motivational.

Today is also World Day of Social Communication. This is one of the first things Vatican II called for: an annual day of recognition of the influence of communications media in modern life and its potential for evangelization. Be sure to read the offical document on this year's theme.

And, of course, it is Mother's Day. God bless you all, especially my Mom and my godmother, Toodie. And my sisters and sisters in law. And my grandmothers in eternal life. And us, too. Our Mother Paula always used to remind us on Mother's Day that we were "mothers of souls," and it is an important thing to remember. Otherwise we can get absorbed in what we do making our lives sterile and pointless. Not exactly God's image, that.

Child's play?

We had Mass this morning for a thirteen-year-old who died seeking a high from a combination of self-stimulation and partial suffocation. It wasn't partial enough. The boy had learned the technique from a "friend." I have two thirteen-year-old nephews, so this hit me. As far as I know, my nephews have actual areas of interest: for one, electronics and music, for the other, acting. (I don't think either one is into sports that much.) I know thirteen is the beginning of a really difficult age, but aren't kids into fun any more? Has our culture so brainwashed them that "pleasure" is more desireable than the full-person experience of life that comes when your whole self is engaged in what one author (whose name is virtually unspellable) calls "flow"?

Is there something we can do to help kids have fun again?

John Paul the Great

Be sure to read Fr. Sprott's May article for the Friar's Legion (in my Links section). A balanced, strong portrayal that leaves you saying "Yeah!"

Keeping up with the Jesuits

The latest issue of America is just full of great stuff: a review of a new book on Flannery O'Connor (I just ordered a copy), an article on Pope John Paul as a patient by a doctor who treated him after he was shot, some delightul personal anecdotes about Benedict XVI the cat lover and "shy neighbor" of the shopkeepers in the Borgo Pio, and...an article on how hot Jesuit history is in the secular academic and publishing worlds. In fact, that is one of the cover stories: "Jesuit History: a Hot New Topic."

What it says, basically, is what I said to myself on seeing the title of the article: After 1550 (more or less), all history is Jesuit history!

 

On the home front here, we are still awaiting word as to the appointment of a new superior for our Chicago community. Probably the poor soul is praying over the matter before answering the provincial...

Pauline Family News

Just got the news on ZENIT about the Sister Disciples of the Divine Master's new Superior General. We got a fax the other day from the sisters, but it only mentioned their new councillors, not the mother general. I believe the new general, Sr. M. Regina Ceserato, has a brother who is a Society of St. Paul priest.
The Sisters of the Divine Master are the "blue nuns" in the Adoration Chapel at St. Peter's. They also run the gift shop on the roof of the Basilica--and here in the States they carry out their liturgical apostolate in Boston, New York and California.

Going to the Source

I'm not particularly happy with the celebration of Ascension on Sunday (last year I was traveling to either New York or Boston at this point in the liturgical year, and completely missed the Solemnity!), but you work with the liturgy that you have, not the liturgy you don't have,if you get my drift. At any rate, that gives us John 16 for today's Gospel of Thursday of the Sixth Week of Easter. In the Gospel, Jesus makes one of those typically enigmatic, Johannine-type statements, "A little while and you will no longer see me, and again a little while and you will see me." And the disciples started asking each other what Jesus meant. Nobody thought to ask Jesus! I think this may be a rather common problem... I tend to ask myself what God is doing in my life, usually by analyzing events. Asking Jesus what he means involves paying attention to the subtle ways he communicates with us, and that involves recognition that it is he who is acting in our life. As one retreat master commented, we are so superficial when we think we see a chain of events by merely analyzing the events themselves without ascribing any serious involvement to divine providence...

Lord, increase my faith! Especially NOW when our major superiors are appointing a new local superior for our community!!!!!

The Relevance of Cardinal Newman

Visitors to St. Peter's Church in Chicago's Loop have a wonderful bonus to their daily prayer: the monthly bulletin of the "Friars Legion." Fr. Bob Sprott, OFM, writes the bulletin reflections, and his article for April was a real doozie. Don't miss it! Fr. Sprott is also my favorite homilist.

Saucepot Saved!

Amazingly, after yesterday's experience of carbonized orange and grapefruit rind, I was able to rescue the sturdy saucepan. All it took was a bit of cooling off time on the fire escape...
But to get to the fire escape, that was an adventure.
As soon as I smelled the, uh, caramel... and ran to the stove, I lifted the smoking pot off the burner. My first thought was actually for the smoke alarm. As I mentioned, we had already had a fire truck pull up, lights and sirens going, when there was an egg explosion in the kitchen. So I ran to the intercom and frantically paged our ever-placid Sr. Lusia, who was at the information desk in the book center downstairs. "Hurry, turn off the alarm! I have something burning and the alarm will go off any minute now and I have to open the fire escape door to let the smoke out!" She responded in so laid-back a manner that when I hung up, I wasn't sure if I could open the fire escape without getting, not the fire truck, but the police. I ran down the hall, the pot emiting a heavy plume of smoke, incensing the whole second floor, and finally threw open the fire escape door. Thanks be to God it had recently been repaired, or it would have been impossible to shut again! It took quite some time, but eventually the smoke cleared. And the smoke alarm never did go off, so I guess we'd better get that checked so we can be safe the next time we burn bacon or (this is my other favorite trick) carbonize pecans.
But back to the saucepan. It was a nice heavy one, stainless steel. None of that cancer-causing no-stick lining or anything. So when the blackened mass inside had stopped smoldering, I just slammed the pot upside down on the fire escape railing and an oversized hockey puck plummeted to the alleyway. No, it did not smash into little pieces on hitting the surface. And our saucepan is only slightly the worse for the wear, still featuring a few blackened bits that I will tackle with an S.O.S. pad. Later.
This weekend the Mt. Carmel parish choir also participated in a Three Choir Festival. Each choir (Mt. Carmel, the William Ferris Chorale and the choir from the First St. Paul's Lutheran Church) gave a small recital and then the three choirs got together for a massive piece of music, the Jongen Mass in Honor of the Blessed Sacrament, composed for something like the 500th anniversary of the Feast of Corpus Christi. I thought it was a wonderful piece of music, and I generally don't like 20th century stuff (except for William Ferris' music). The William Ferris Chorale is one of the significant choral groups here in Chicago, and that drew the Tribune music critic to our Friday night concert. Today's Tribune had this to say: "The chorus [under the direction of Simon Preston, who "with all that sound and fury at his fingertips" "looked rather like an overgrown kid in a candy store"] sounded confident and well-prepared; their big, fervent sound swimming around in the resonant acoustics of Mt. Carmel." "The most impressive singing came from the Mt. Carmel Choir under the direction of Paul French."
This came at a price. The price of a mother's sacrifice. My mother's sacrifice. She gave up honey in her coffee and salt in her grits for three whole days, and on the second night of the concert (last night, at the University of Chicago's Rockefeller Chapel) she gave up dessert until after the last note. Here is her description of the final moments of sacrifice (please note, Mom often types in all caps because she is afraid that she will hit the wrong key and lose all her typing; it is not really for emphasis):
I HOPE IT WAS A REAL "DOOZIE"....IT SEEMED THAT TEN O'CLOCK WOULD NEVER COME AS I ANXIOUSLY BUSIED MYSELF WITH LITTLE NOTHINGS, AFTER THOMAS APRIL AND KATE LEFT....THE HANDS ON THE CLOCK FROZE AT TWELVE MINUTES TO TEN....THE COFFEE ICE CREAM, AND YUMMY SWEET POTATO COOKIES MADE BY NELL, SAT WITHIN MY VIEW, CAJOLING ME, "TAKE A BITE IT'S ALMOST TEN"...WELL, I CONFESS THAT I DID REMOVE THE ICE CREAM FROM THE FREEZER, GET OUT MY FANCY DESSERT GLASS AND SPOON AND WHIPPED CREAM, AND NAPKIN AND FINALLY THE SMALL HAND REACHED THE TENNNNNNNNNNNNNNN....QUICKLY FOLLOWED BY THE BIG HAND ON THE TWELVE. WHAT DO PEOPLE DO WHO GIVE UP COFFEE ICE CREAM AND SWEETS FOR LENT. I HAVE NOT ACHIEVED THAT STOIC STAGE OF SACRIFICE, BUT JUST THAT TEENY ONE MUST HAVE BEEN FELT.
God bless my mom!