Concert Review

We had a wonderful evening at the Hilton Gardens, with over 500 guests for our benefit dinner/concert. As for the singing, from my perspective, anyway, it was a bit like the plague of Egypt...you know, the invasion of frogs? My high notes were okay, and that's what people seem to remember, though! Today we have a free day. Some of the sisters are going to the art museum in Manhattan. I'm planning to stay on Staten Island to get some video footage of the "new" convent here so our sisters in the other communities will have a chance to see it. I plan to take a walk to the Post Office for Christmas stamps (I need a goal when I take a walk, and the Post Office is about a mile from here, so that's just about right). I also hope to read the Pope's new encyclical on HOPE. (One of my favorite books is Josef Pieper's "On Hope," so I am really excited about an encyclical on the topic.)
Happy Feast of St. Andrew!
Oh, and keep the prayers coming for Sr. Michael who is still with us, though she is nearing the goal of all our hope.

On our way

We are heading off to the "dress" rehearsal (same dresses as always!), and I am hoping that more of my voice will come back as the day progresses. So we are on our way to the concert.
Meanwhile, near the Boston motherhouse, our Sister Mary Michael is "on her way" to a greater destination. We are all joined in praying with her and for her as the Lord approaches, and she is praying that our concerts will be effective in bringing the Lord to even more people. I know we can count on your prayers for Sr. Michael, and for the sisters in Venezuela and Puerto Rico among whom she spent many years of missionary life.

Island Hopping

I've been taking in a lot of Staten Island while going in between our new convent and the Sister Disciples' place where we are staying. Fall has just passed its peak here, so there are still some magnificent trees, and the streets are so full of fallen leaves it looks like the cars and trucks are playing in them as they roll by. One especially interesting thing about the Island (at least to me) is the number of small businesses. There are very few big box stores here: people rely on neighborhood stores and specialty shops to an extent you just don't see in too many places. Some of this may owe to the strong Italian presence: where else in America do you find "salumerias" (butcher shops that only sell pork and sausage products)? These are vibrant shops, not small, run-down little places. And so far I've only seen one Starbucks, but plenty of local coffee shops. It's almost a trip back in time to a different economic system.
The convent is located in a parish campus, with a thriving elementary school. I had to wait for a parking spot this morning, because parents were standing in the convent lot until their children went inside. Meanwhile, the schoolyard was buzzing like a tree full of starlings.
Well, break is over; Sr. Bridget is waiting for us! (Keep up the prayers for my voice; I sound awful!)

Update from New York

We're in our "new" convent in New York: the sisters moved just two weeks ago from the huge convent by the ferry to a convent that is better situated for our community. It's a nice old place, well designed for community needs, and closer to the other Pauline congregations on Staten Island. Since there's not enough room for our whole concert crew here, though (not even with air mattresses!), six of us are staying with the Sisters of the Divine Master (the second women's congregation of the Pauline Family).
Today being the Feast of Blessed James Alberione, our Founder, we had a special Mass with the Society of St. Paul before coming over here for our practice sessions in the newly refurbished old basement. I'm going to miss part of the afternoon practice in order to get to a doctor (with a very badly timed sinus infection!)... Amazingly, I was able to cantor for yesterday's Mass at St. Patrick's Cathedral!
I'm sharing this computer in a community office with four workstations and a waiting line of singers, so I must be quick even though there is lots to share. Pray for us and those we will encounter during this two-week concert tour!

Beyond our wildest imaginings

Today's Gospel is Luke's version of the Saducees' "throwdown" with Jesus. Biblical literalists who accepted nothing of Jewish religion that wasn't written in the Torah, they created a "what-if" scenario calculated to ridicule belief in life after death. It seemed the perfect strategy to diminish Jesus' authority as a teacher while scoring a point for their views on the subject. "What if...a woman, who--as established in the Mosaic Law--died after having been married to an entire succession of childless brothers? Whose wife would she be in the 'resurrection of the dead'?"
You can almost hear the crowd snickering.
Jesus' answer is twofold. First, he addresses the issue of the kind of life that will be ours "on the other side." He basically tells us that we aren't imaginative enough. We envision life after death in ways that are limited to life in time, but these categories are much too small to come close to the reality. Last night, while doing my exercise, I listened to "La Vida Eternal" from "Altar Boyz." I love the song (especially the Latin beat!), but noticed that the lyrics can do no more than trot out hackneyed images of angels and harps and a life that is like this one, only better. St. John tried to be more specific, but all he could really say was "We shall be like God, for we shall see him as he is." And St. Paul was less than helpful in saying, with Isaiah, "Eye has not seen, ear has not heard..."
So much for the kind of life that awaits us. Jesus then tackled the issue beneath the Sadducees' question: is "life after death" a concept that is supported by the written Torah itself? They claimed it was not, but Jesus turned the tables on them, quoting the book of Exodus to remind them that "The God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob" is "not the God of the dead, but of the living."
The snickers quickly faded, and some of the experts who had been there almost like spectators at an athletic contest spoke up: "Well said, teacher!" And then they, too, quickly faded from the scene.
Reflecting on our limited understanding of life after death, I came to wonder to what extent our understanding of this life also compromises our appreciation of the reality of communion with God. I mean, as St. John says, "We are God's children now." We live now in communion with God. If we had a better sense of what that communion was, wouldn't we also have a better sense of life after death?

On the road again

Friday morning I'm off to join the other singing sisters on our Christmas concert tour. We meet up in Boston and then head to New York on Sunday morning. I'll probably not have easy access to the Internet, so posts will likely be irregular until I get back to Chicago in two weeks. (Hope you miss me! Do pray for us and for those we will meet along the way.)

Thanksgiving Litany

I thought it would be fun if together we could create a litany (a "list-prayer") of thankfulness, each line being a recognition of grace, followed by a common response. (My suggestion is "Your love is everlasting!")
I'll start; add your own contributions in the comment box, and we'll have a prayer we can use all year!

Thank you, God, for the beauty of creation: Your love is everlasting!
Thank you, God, for making us in your image: Your love is everlasting!
Thank you, God, for revealing yourself to us in so many ways: Your love is everlasting!
Thank you, God, for watching over me every day, counting the hairs of my head: Your love is everlasting!
Thank you, God, for each member of my family (whom I bring to mind, one by one): Your love is everlasting!

Invitations

Today's Gospel is the wonderful story of Zaccheus, the height-challenged "arch" tax collector of Jericho. In a way, we're going from yesterday's "low" (the blind beggar sitting on the road) to a "high" (as in, perched in a tree). And the two stories depict different ways people come to God. But in both, God's first move was a secret grace that spurred the two men to go looking for Jesus. That's what theology calls "prevenient grace," and it's important for the theology of the missions. What it means is that the Holy Spirit prepares people for the Gospel; the missionary doesn't come to a barren field when preaching the Gospel.
But to look at the Gospels of yesterday and today, we see that the beggar, moved interiorly to call out to Jesus, did not have Jesus at his beck and call. Jesus sent someone over to bring the man to him. Today, on the other hand, we have Zaccheus, moved to climb a tree just to get a glimpse of Jesus, and Jesus goes right to him and invites himself to dinner at the tax collector's house (where he was sure to meet many other social pariahs).
Look at John's Gospel, Chapter 4: the Samaritan woman came to the well, and Jesus began conversing with her (but only after giving her the opportunity to provide him with water). But the people of the village came to Jesus only through the woman's testimony about him.
St. Paul came to know Jesus in a "direct" (if highly unusual) way on the road to Damascus, but the people in Ephesus, Philippi and the rest only came to him through Paul's preaching.
No matter how grace works in our lives, it is still grace!

Listen up!

An interesting article in yesterday's paper told of an elite detective unit in Belgium. Their specialty is deciphering wiretaps and other audio clues. To get a badge, though, you have to be blind. All their work is focused on listening.
Today's Gospel has a similar focus. The blind beggar on the side of the Jericho road hears the roar of a crowd and tries to interpret it. Finally, he has to ask what is going on. It is Jesus coming to town. The beggar joins the cacophony with his own cry, "Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me!"
Then Jesus hears him. Jesus picked that one voice out of the crowd and stopped in the middle of the street. Jesus heard someone call him by name.
Jesus then "ordered that he be brought to him." The blind man had to listen to those emissaries and trust the message enough to let himself be led to Jesus. It is interesting that Jesus did not go himself: he willed that there be a form of mediation, and an extension of his presence through others.
St. Paul says, "Faith comes through hearing, and what is heard comes through the Word of Christ." So seeing is not believing: hearing is.

Maybe I read this wrong

A letter to the editor in today's Times-Picayune disturbed me a bit. The writer insinuates that churches are betraying their purpose if the church buildings are not open all day for the homeless. In fact, the writer insists that church buildings should be required, under penalty of losing tax-exempt status, to stay open to offer hospitality to the homeless. That's what bothered me, I think: the attempt to force this "solution" being coupled with a not-so veiled threat, plus the not-so veiled accusation that churches are failing the homeless. (This after the the Burger King "campaign for your cause" awarded 50K to City Park and not to the homeless shelter run by a church group.)
In Chicago, where the weather truly requires the kind of shelter the writer would mandate, Holy Name Cathedral is open all day, and there are often homeless people sleeping in the pews. But there is also a security guard at a desk inside the church. Every once in a while, the guard has to tap a beggar on the shoulder and remind him (usually it's a him) not to ask people for a handout when those visitors are praying. I guess the writer didn't think about the costs related to security issues. In one of the areas north of the city, area churches participate in the "Pads" program, taking turns to offer shelter to the homeless. But they also need volunteers to help with the practical matters of offering hospitality to exceptionally needy and fragile people. It's not as simple as it sounds: just unlock the churches and let the homeless stay there during the day! Part of me wonders if the writer of that letter really was just looking for a way to sweep the homeless out of his way and thought that the city's church buildings would be a good place to put them.
In Chicago a local mission opened a fabulous new shelter just south of the Loop. Here in New Orleans, the Harry Thompson Center attempts to address people's needs in a broad way, not just putting a roof over their heads for a few hours. From what I see in Chicago, unless the weather is particularly bad, some of our homeless seem to find it more to their advantage during the daytime to be out in the public, where kind passers-by have spare change.
Ultimately, no one can force people, no matter how needy, to take refuge anywhere. (This is, sad to say, more than obvious during Chicago's winters, when people freeze to death outside because they refuse to be taken to a warming station.)

Rhetorical question?

Today's Gospel ends with the Lord's striking question, "When the Son of Man comes again, will he find faith on the earth?" The homily for today's Mass at St. Edward the Confessor called this a "rhetorical question." I don't think it's rhetorical at all. In fact, the urgency of this Gospel came to mind when Sr. Helena sent me a link to an article in Rolling Stone (she's a longtime subscriber!) in which a really respected scientist is not predicting distant doom for the planet, but indicates that catastrophe is just around the corner. Like, fifteen or so years around the corner, for the starting volley. According to Lovelock, the human race is not in for a very promising spell. ("Head for the hills!" is closer to his message.) If he is even close to being right, that means we have about a hundred years, give or take some decades, to make sure that there will be "faith on the earth" no matter how the reshaping of habitable land takes place.
Of course, it shouldn't take the threat of imminent destruction to motivate us to proclaim Christ, but... what if Lovelock is right? Would the Son of Man find faith on the earth?

Double header

Today is the anniversary of my baptism. It is also (and quite significantly) the feast of my Confirmation patron, St. Elizabeth. I'm hoping that means a double portion of grace!

The Way of Beauty

The readings from the Book of Wisdom have got me thinking about Mike, the teenaged seeker who cast a net on YouTube asking Catholics for guidance, and ended up (for the present) as a cool and very secure (I don't want to say smug) athiest. (Saddest of all, a local catechist whom Mike came to with his questions now declares herself an agnostic--all in the course of ten months!) Mike's comments on YouTube trot out a lot of the old, tired "reasons" against God and religion, most of which are beside the point. (For example, pointing to the more barbarous sections of the Bible as testimony against Christianity, and totally avoiding the Gospels and the person of Jesus.) But what strikes me, in the light of the readings from Wisdom, is that the strictly intellectual approach lacks an appreciation of wisdom, and its way of beauty. That's what today's reading points out: God, "the original source of beauty" is revealed in the beauty and order of creation.
Take time for beauty! It will nourish your faith!

Fortiter et Suaviter

These have to be my favorite words from the Old Testament, and they are in today's first reading from the book of Wisdom. The Latin words are usually translated "mightily and sweetly." In context, the Scripture is saying that God's wisdom "reaches mightily from one end [of the universe] to the other, and orders all things well." Only the Latin says "suaviter," softening the brutal edge we might assign to the word "might." I relate it to the exclamation that the townspeople made after one of Jesus' miracles: "Everything he does is beautiful!" It is fitting, it is apt, it is lovely: suaviter.
In this week before Thanksgiving, "fortiter et suaviter" can also be a principle for discernment. This is how God acts: not with brusque power, but with tender and uncompromised vision. The saints, especially St. John of the Cross, tell us that we need to have our attention very finely tuned in order to discern God's doings, because he does them "suaviter." That is why it is such a good idea to make a review of the day before retiring at night, creating space for us to begin to notice those subtle "movements" (as St. Ignatius called them) that indicate that the Lord is passing by. We may be amazed at how much we've been missing!

Somebody pray for this kid

A year ago, Mike in Michigan posted a video on YouTube asking Catholics for advice on books that would help him in his quest for truth. I guess he didn't get enough help. Now he has posted one declaring his atheism. He's maybe 17 now.
He explained in his first video that he was brought up in a very anti-Catholic environment; his parents split and he moved with his Mom to Michigan. Clearly, there are a lot of issues involved. Prayers sent his way can still do so much to heal his heart and mind.

Giving Thanks

Today's Gospel is the story of the ten lepers who were healed by Jesus. When only one came back in thanks, Jesus seemed put out. "Where are the other nine?" Jesus wanted to have that "one on one" time with each one, to confirm the healing and remind each of them, "It is your faith that has saved you." (In Greek, "heal" and "save" are the same word.)
Even the verse before the Gospel (the Alleluia verse) says that it is God's will that we should give thanks to God. In other words, thanksgiving is our human vocation.

Will you (good)search for us?

Sr. Lorraine signed us up to be on the receiving end of modest proceeds from the "Goodsearch.com" search engine. This is a Yahoo-powered search service, much like Google, except that they share advertising revenues with non-profit organizations. To help the Daughters of St. Paul every time you need to (ahem) "Google" something, go to Goodsearch.com and in the "Who are you Goodsearching for? Select "Daughters of St. Paul (Boston, MA)" and hit enter. Then do your searches from Goodsearch.com instead of Google. The Yahoo engine works just as well (according to the Chicago Tribune, often better) than Google's.
It's even easier if you download and install the Goodsearch toolbar.
And thanks.

Degrees of Separation

Today after Mass, I had an experience of how, in New Orleans, the usual six degrees of separation are compressed to, well, immediacy! Mom and I went to St. Christopher's, and as we left Church, the gentleman who had been in the pew in front of us introduced himself: "Ray Fagot." (That's pronounced Fah-go, though it turns out that the man's son changed his name to Faugeaux after being tortured throughout his Marine career).
Mom heard the name and went into concordance mode, repeating, "Fagot... Hmm, do we know you from Loyola, or maybe from Jesuit High?" Both. Turns out that Mr. Fagot was in my Dad's high school class, and had been one of the trusty friends teenaged Jim had turned to to clue him in on the little catch-words and other social changes that had taken place during his year in the monastery (at age 14!). And Mr. Fagot knew my Mom's family, too, from Loyola University.
Ray lost his home and most of his possessions in Katrina. He sold what remained and now (at age 79) he does mission work in the Dominican Republic with the Missionhurst community. In New Orleans, he lives in a rectory. Like St. Paul, he can say "We have nothing, but everything is ours!"

Cabrini Day

Every year on November 13 (feast of St. Frances Cabrini), I tout my "Cabrini creds." (I do the same when encountering any of Mother Cabrini's Missionaries of the Sacred Heart.) All the books about Mother Cabrini talk about the "roach-infested tenement" in New Orleans that the sisters moved into. Well, here it is:
("Roach-infested tenement"indeed! This was pre-Orkin New Orleans! Everything was roach-infested!) For a century, the sisters ran a child-care ministry from this Creole home in the French Quarter. About ten years ago, it was sold to a developer. But before any of that, it was my great-great-grandfather's home. He moved his family out after ten-year-old "Filston" ("Sonny") died of scarlet fever. The living room where the child was waked became the convent chapel. I visited only once, while the sisters were still there.



On a side note, I hear that bloggers are going on a sympathy strike in solidarity with the WGA. I know that my writer friend Karen will understand if I continue my little project here...

Newswatch!

Only a day into my trip, and already there is too much to keep up with. I'm talking about Pope Benedict's now-confirmed visit to the US and UN, with special audiences for university heads. I want to keep this in mind on a frequent basis, in order to contribute with my prayers to disposing minds and hearts to what he has to say, and also for the Holy Father to grow in his understanding of the situations "on the ground" here, too, so he can effectively address them.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...
I sent a manuscript off, and the file was corrupted. Sr. Helena is helping me retrieve the original from the Chicago computer so I can resubmit it. (Pray over that little effort of mine!) Sr. Julia and I started our music project today, and I am enjoying the perfect weather. (Glad to leave Chicago's chill winds behind!) Mom's satsuma tree is producing loads of orange fruit, and Jane's grapefruit tree likewise. Oh, and I have a lot of music to learn by heart for the concerts.

Off and running

I'm not quite finished packing yet (almost!) for a month on the road: New Orleans (for an exciting music project and--just as exciting--Mom's 80th birthday celebration; New York (Christmas concerts); Philly (concerts); Boston (concerts) and finally back to Chicago. I won't always have easy Internet access, so posts may be sporadic.
Meanwhile, "angels on wings" for safe travel.

Just who was St. John Lateran?

Today's feast raises the annual question, "Just who was St. John Lateran anyway?" Nobody seems to know this obscure saint. We know of John the Baptist and John the Evangelist, and some may recognize the names of John Chrysostom, John Vianney and even John Bosco. But this Lateran guy?
You are forgiven.
Today's feast is not a saint's day at all. It is one of those celebrations that doesn't fit easily into one's devotional life: the feast of the dedication of a Church. Sort of like a Catholic Hanukkah, except that this feast commemorates the original dedication, not the rededication of a place of worship. There are two such feasts on the universal Catholic calendar. (Ten points if you can name the other one! And twenty bonus points if you know which other feast on the universal calendar developed out of the dedication of a third Church--add ten points if you know which church.)
Today's observance is the dedication of the Lateran Basilica, which is the actual Cathedral of the Bishop of Rome (you know, the Pope). The Lateran Basilica is about two miles, maybe less, from the Vatican Basilica, better known as St. Peter's, and just down the road from the Liberian Basilica, better known as St. Mary Major. The name "Lateran" comes from the name of the Roman family who originally lived on that bit of property. (Constantine took it and eventually gave it to the Bishop of Rome.) The real name of this cathedral is the Archbasilica of the Most Holy Savior and of St. John. And if you ask (again!) which St. John, it turns out to be two of them: the Baptist and the Evangelist. But neither of them, it turns out, was a Lateran.

In life and in death

Today was Dad's first anniversary in Heaven, and the first reading from Romans couldn't have been more appropriate: in life and in death, we are the Lord's. That is exactly how it was for Dad, whose death coincided with the moment of his viaticum. (You'd be hard put to devise a better scenario than that!) The Responsorial for Mass was also very comforting: "I believe that I shall see the good things of the Lord in the land of the living." My extended family needs that extra comfort this week, because on Monday we buried Dad's elder brother (Uncle Bill). (His death was the fourth on that side of the family within two and a half years.)
I know my Aunt Grace and her three children would be especially grateful for your prayers.

Fr. Fred finally appears

Well, it only took three weeks, but I finally got pictures of my recently ordained friend, Fr. Fred Sahuc, CMF. Mom went to his Mass of Thanksgiving in his home parish of St. Dominic's in the Lakeview neighborhood of New Orleans (right near that levee break).
Prayers for your ministry, Father!

More reasons to like Midway

My airport of choice here in Chicago is Midway. Mainly, that is because it is a 25 minute "L" ride instead of a full hour. And it is eminently more walkable (with decreased likelihood of travel stress arising from the sheer distance to one's terminal and then gate). And it has a chapel with the Blessed Sacrament and daily Mass (three on Sundays) inside the terminal, so you can go pray without worrying that the TSA security line is growing and growing (adding to that travel stress noted above).
Today's Wall Street Journal added a new reason to like the unassuming airport. It is #5 in the nation for on-time arrivals.

Dead Theologians and Live Teens

Sr. Helena and Sr. Susan are on their way to the NCYC, the country's biggest Catholic youth ministry event (with some 24,000 participants). While they're there, they might run into the "Dead Theologians Society." This is a relatively new youth ministry program that focuses on the saints. Members even get the "official" sweatshirt with its monstrance logo.
Whatever works!

Golden Compass: media literacy approach

Sr. Rose has some observations and suggestions for parents and others who are concerned about the anti-Christian, anti-Catholic (anti-God) bent of the fantasy book on which the upcoming movie is based. Sr. Rose takes it from a media literacy standpoint, which is not the same as a catechetical standpoint. Media literacy is actually a very demanding approach, because it requires intensive reflection and conversation. Of course, that yields a lot more fruit than simply boycotting a production tout court.
Speaking for myself, I saw the trailer for "The Golden Compass" this summer when I went to see "Harry Potter." The trailer alone filled me with a sense of foreboding that this movie had some kind of vicious streak in it. There were "churchly" type villains in liturgical and clerical attire, who used "church" language like "heresy." (Turns out, even worse, that the "churchly" group of villains are called "The Magisterium"!)
As Sr. Rose keeps saying, we need to know what we're dealing with here, and prepare ourselves to engage with it intelligently.

Elbows on the table with Jesus

Today's Gospel shows us Jesus in a familiar setting: having a meal. This time, he is a guest in the home of a Pharisee. Another guest there must have (correctly!) experienced in this shared meal with Jesus a foretaste of the heavenly banquet, because he happily comments to Jesus, "Blessed his the one who will eat bread in the Kingdom of God."
And the Lord spake unto him, "You would think so, wouldn't you?"
No, really the Lord spake thus: "The invited guests wouldn't think it worth their time, so the Lord will have to look for others to come and eat what has been prepared."
Makes you want to re-examine your priorities, doesn't it?

Mission Trip Opportunity

There's still (lots of) work to do in New Orleans, and you can be a part of it! St. Peter's Church (Chicago) and Quincy University are organizing a Dec. 14-21 mission trip to help doing things like cleaning, painting, gardening and even holiday decorating. Transportation, lodging and food for the whole trip total $300. An informational meeting will be held at St. Peter's on November 7 (5:15); contact Fr. Paul (email StPeter //at//yahoo.com).

Advent Women's Retreat

It's not too early to make your Advent plans!
Here in Chicago we'll be welcoming Sr. M. Jean Frisk, STL (a member of the secular institute of the Schoenstatt Sisters of Mary and an expert in Mariology); she will direct a daylong retreat on Dec. 1. The retreat is from 9:00 to 3:00 and will feature clips from The Nativity Story. $25 fee includes lunch (but not parking, sorry!). Call for more details or to pre-register: 312-346-4228.

Worry not!

We just got in a new Pauline title--or pair of titles--for the worriers in your life. Or for you. Or me.
How to Handle Worry is an updated version of a best-seller, now paired with a workbook subtitled Praying Your Way Through Anxiety. (They are sold separately.) The workbook includes pages for a "worry record" (record date, event and how the stress was manifested); a holiday section; a kind of "training" in new approaches to replace knee-jerk reactions. I especially like that this workbook, unlike many others, is a standard size, not an enormous looseleaf format. It's a workbook you actually can just slip in with other things, carry to chapel or use on public transit without taking over the next person's lap.
And the paper is really nice, too.
Do you know anyone who could use a set of books like this?

Kingdom Come!

Isn't that ultimately what today's Feast of All Saints is? "Thy Kingdom Come!" Thy Kingdom Come in me, in my life, through my life, lived in You. Thy Kingdom Come through Your Gospel as found in the Church. Thy Kingdom Come, now and ... in Kingdom Come!