I thought it was just a funny coincidence that one of my friends would call me on my birthday to ask me to cantor at the next day's Mass, but as every other time God goes to work, He works in mysterious ways. This past week, I went on an Alternative Spring Break trip to SC to rebuild homes for low-income families, and I pretty much knew in advance that some spiritual fruit would come of the experience. However, as I was thinking of a Bible verse to relate to the experience, I kept coming up short. Nothing quite seemed good enough, and I figured I would probably end up settling for Matthew 25:40, which isn't a bad verse by any means, it just didn't seem to fit.
So, funny thing, as I'm trying to concentrate on the priest proclaiming the Gospel at the Mass I'm cantoring, I realize almost immediately that the story is the Transfiguration. I don't see how it fits until the homily, when the priest stresses Peter's call to Jesus, "Lord, it is good for us to be here". Now, he goes on to talk about prayer during Lent, and the Mass as the greatest prayer, but what hits me hardest is the three or four times he repeats "Lord, it is good for us to be here". This was it; this was the verse I was looking for!
I realize now in retrospect, that much like the Gospel, this verse doesn't initially seem to fit, but put in the context of the trip, it makes more sense. The trip was like a reverse Transfiguration. Jesus didn't shine like the sun, and He wasn't flanked by Moses and Elijah; instead, He became an ordinary couple flanked by friends and family. We, in turn, were Peter. Each day we woke early, worked joyfully and hard, and really desired to help this couple as Peter desired to help Jesus, Moses, and Elijah. We discovered, without knowing it, that it was good for us to be there.
And though Matthew 25:40 is still comforting to think of, I think "Lord, it is good for us to be here" (Matthew 17:4) is still more appropriate. God used this week to teach me about myself, and to be His hands to help others, and because of this I echo Peter's words "Lord, it is good for us to be here".
Monday, March 21, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
Like a Refiner's Fire
For some months now, I have been discerning whether or not to do St. Louis de Montfort's Consecration to Mary, and a few weeks ago, I decided I would start it for sure. My parents were visiting me at school with my best friend, and I remember being so upset over the strained state of our relationship that it was a tremendous joy for me to be able to start the Consecration during their visit. Little did I know that, so far, they would be the very least of my problems.
The next weekend, I had two friends in high school visit me, because they'll be coming to my school in the fall. That weekend turned out to be ten times more stressful than my parents' visit, and the aftermath (this past week) has been awful. On Tuesday, a friend of mine contacted me to talk about an issue she had with a boy, and by the end of the conversation, she was threatening suicide. That same night, I found out that another friend is seven weeks pregnant with the child of her abusive marine ex-boyfriend, with whom she has gotten back together after a mighty struggle to finally leave him.
The past sixteen days have been ridiculous for me, and I almost feel as if the days did not exist apart from the stresses they contained. As I was confessing this to one of my friends on Friday night, she told me about a popular Catholic singer who also did St. Louis de Montfort's Consecration, and also suffered tremendously during the thirty-three days during which she did it. She told me to check out her blog post about it, which I did, and I was comforted to find that my friend's words rang true. In her own words, the singer called the month hell. I thought of this over the weekend, and asked my school's chaplain how he found his experience with the Consecration, to which he attributes his becoming a priest. He told me that the first year it really hit him what he was doing (about the second year he did it), he also went through hell.
Something that struck me particularly was when the singer wrote "Since Satan hates Mary and this consecration, my January was HELL. I have never had a worse month in my life. It was spiritually purifying, trying, and painful. However, come February, I had never experienced so much joy, peace, and satisfaction in God alone. My spiritual life and ministry took off to new heights and depths." I realized that she was right about why the Consecration was so difficult, and how good the results could be. Mary is the only human Satan ever feared, and once under her control, those who are devoted wholly to their Consecration are not likely to fall to him because, "Consecration is like jumping in the womb of Mary, where Christ was formed, so we might be formed as “little Christs,” too. Mary’s womb is the only place where Satan cannot penetrate, because Mary’s womb is the Tabernacle where the Bread of Life dwelt–it is the “Holy of Holies.” "
Then, as I was thinking of a title for this post, I thought of the Aria: "But Who May Abide The Day Of His Coming" from Handel's "Messiah", which says that God is "like a refiner's fire". Not only is God like that, but so is this Consecration. It's a test of faith and devotion. This is not an ordinary Act of Consecration, and so it requires the people doing it to display extraordinary faith and steadfastness. I know this singer has been an inspiration to some of my friends, and our chaplain is as strong and true a man in his faith as I have ever seen. I can only hope that God will also give me the grace to follow in the footsteps of these two extraordinary people. Maria, Mater Dei, Regina Coeli, ora pro nobis!
The next weekend, I had two friends in high school visit me, because they'll be coming to my school in the fall. That weekend turned out to be ten times more stressful than my parents' visit, and the aftermath (this past week) has been awful. On Tuesday, a friend of mine contacted me to talk about an issue she had with a boy, and by the end of the conversation, she was threatening suicide. That same night, I found out that another friend is seven weeks pregnant with the child of her abusive marine ex-boyfriend, with whom she has gotten back together after a mighty struggle to finally leave him.
The past sixteen days have been ridiculous for me, and I almost feel as if the days did not exist apart from the stresses they contained. As I was confessing this to one of my friends on Friday night, she told me about a popular Catholic singer who also did St. Louis de Montfort's Consecration, and also suffered tremendously during the thirty-three days during which she did it. She told me to check out her blog post about it, which I did, and I was comforted to find that my friend's words rang true. In her own words, the singer called the month hell. I thought of this over the weekend, and asked my school's chaplain how he found his experience with the Consecration, to which he attributes his becoming a priest. He told me that the first year it really hit him what he was doing (about the second year he did it), he also went through hell.
Something that struck me particularly was when the singer wrote "Since Satan hates Mary and this consecration, my January was HELL. I have never had a worse month in my life. It was spiritually purifying, trying, and painful. However, come February, I had never experienced so much joy, peace, and satisfaction in God alone. My spiritual life and ministry took off to new heights and depths." I realized that she was right about why the Consecration was so difficult, and how good the results could be. Mary is the only human Satan ever feared, and once under her control, those who are devoted wholly to their Consecration are not likely to fall to him because, "Consecration is like jumping in the womb of Mary, where Christ was formed, so we might be formed as “little Christs,” too. Mary’s womb is the only place where Satan cannot penetrate, because Mary’s womb is the Tabernacle where the Bread of Life dwelt–it is the “Holy of Holies.” "
Then, as I was thinking of a title for this post, I thought of the Aria: "But Who May Abide The Day Of His Coming" from Handel's "Messiah", which says that God is "like a refiner's fire". Not only is God like that, but so is this Consecration. It's a test of faith and devotion. This is not an ordinary Act of Consecration, and so it requires the people doing it to display extraordinary faith and steadfastness. I know this singer has been an inspiration to some of my friends, and our chaplain is as strong and true a man in his faith as I have ever seen. I can only hope that God will also give me the grace to follow in the footsteps of these two extraordinary people. Maria, Mater Dei, Regina Coeli, ora pro nobis!
Two Copper Coins, and the Least of God's People
This is from almost two months ago, but after re-reading it, I realized that I'm still affected by the story, and so here it is:
Last night, I learned some really incredible things about the Church in China. It's similar to the Church in all it's aspects of doctrine and theology, yes, but it's the Chinese Catholics who really make it shine. At the Newman Center Tuesday dinner, the guest speakers who came were a family from Silver Spring, MD, and they had an amazing story to tell about some truly singular people.
In this country, we are almost bound to take for granted all the freedoms we have by birthright. It seems one of the hallmarks of the American situation, that we must be reminded occasionally how fortunate we are to live in this country and to call ourselves its citizens. One of the first rights we are guaranteed by our government is the right to practice any religion we choose, as freely and openly as we want, provided we're not breaking any laws. In China, where atheism is the enforced belief system of the state, there are no other alternatives, and the state will not hesitate to punish anyone who disobeys it. The government also enforces a One Child Policy, with exceptions for the poor, rural families, who may have two children only if their first is a girl.
Last night, we were told by the speakers who visited us about a woman named Li Xiang, who lived in the countryside and gave birth to a son as her first child. By mandate, then, he was to be the only child she ever had. And he was, for a while. Her next two pregnancies ended in abortions, which were performed by her mother. Her fourth pregnancy, however, she chose to bring to term, and the baby, once he was born, was registered as her brother's son. She got pregnant again some years later, but this time she could not pretend the child was someone else's, so she went into hiding. Li Xiang went to live in a halfway house far from home that took care of women who were pregnant in violation of the One Child Policy, and there she gave birth to a daughter, shortly after converting to Catholicism. She had to hide her daughter from her family and her village to keep from being discovered by the government, and having the baby taken from her and killed. Meanwhile, she got pregnant again, and gave birth to another son, whom she has also had to hide away.
The prospects for Li Xiang's children are not very good. While her older sons have been able to receive healthcare and education from the government, they have suffered from the stress of their parents' situation with the two younger children. The younger children, however, have seemingly no good future ahead of them. Neither can be registered with the government, because their mother already has one child registered, so neither of them will receive healthcare or education. There is very little hope for these children who cannot even earn a wage or go to school without the Chinese government's say so. Li Xiang has hope for their futures, though, even though she knows realistically that they are not bright futures.
As we looked at the slides of this Maryland family's visit to China, we were told that the halfway house that sheltered Li Xiang has the women who stay there make Rosaries that can be given away with the request for a $25 donation. Our chaplain graciously offered to make a donation for each Rosary a student took, though there wasn't enough money to make the full donation for each of us. For our parts, we did each make whatever donation we could, and some of us were even able to make the full $25. I however, only had $1.19, which I sheepishly handed over, ashamed of the fact that I could give so little. I told our chaplain about my embarrassment before I gave the money, and he kindly consoled me with the story of the widow in Luke's gospel, who gave two copper coins, all she had, to the temple. He told me that I would be the student they told others about, giving what little I had to support the shelter and the mothers. I doubted it, but I was consoled when the mother of the family told me that even my meager donation would be able to feed a family for a week, such is the exchange rate now.
It's situations like these that sometimes make me wonder if God doesn't give us these circumstances to remind us that, even in what we perceive as poverty, even when we think that there is nothing we can do to help other people, there will always be some good which we can contribute to others. In this case, it was whatever money we students had, as even the full $25 doesn't get much here in Washington. But to these women at the shelter, and to Li Xiang and her children, this money will make a huge difference. In this case, it wasn't only about giving money to a good cause, but giving to our Catholic sisters in China and their children, and hopefully being able to save a few lives before they are born.
Someone who knew Li Xiang sent an email to the father of the MD family, also a professor at my university, and in it, she wondered what would become of Li Xiang's youngest son, Ping-ping. Would he live very long? Would he grow up to make a difference? Would he become a priest someday? It's heartbreaking to think of him in that way, but I do hope he makes a difference when he grows up. I hope he is able to aid women in finding the shelter that aided his mother, and that he is able to pay forward the gift of life he received from God through his amazing mother.
Last night, I learned some really incredible things about the Church in China. It's similar to the Church in all it's aspects of doctrine and theology, yes, but it's the Chinese Catholics who really make it shine. At the Newman Center Tuesday dinner, the guest speakers who came were a family from Silver Spring, MD, and they had an amazing story to tell about some truly singular people.
In this country, we are almost bound to take for granted all the freedoms we have by birthright. It seems one of the hallmarks of the American situation, that we must be reminded occasionally how fortunate we are to live in this country and to call ourselves its citizens. One of the first rights we are guaranteed by our government is the right to practice any religion we choose, as freely and openly as we want, provided we're not breaking any laws. In China, where atheism is the enforced belief system of the state, there are no other alternatives, and the state will not hesitate to punish anyone who disobeys it. The government also enforces a One Child Policy, with exceptions for the poor, rural families, who may have two children only if their first is a girl.
Last night, we were told by the speakers who visited us about a woman named Li Xiang, who lived in the countryside and gave birth to a son as her first child. By mandate, then, he was to be the only child she ever had. And he was, for a while. Her next two pregnancies ended in abortions, which were performed by her mother. Her fourth pregnancy, however, she chose to bring to term, and the baby, once he was born, was registered as her brother's son. She got pregnant again some years later, but this time she could not pretend the child was someone else's, so she went into hiding. Li Xiang went to live in a halfway house far from home that took care of women who were pregnant in violation of the One Child Policy, and there she gave birth to a daughter, shortly after converting to Catholicism. She had to hide her daughter from her family and her village to keep from being discovered by the government, and having the baby taken from her and killed. Meanwhile, she got pregnant again, and gave birth to another son, whom she has also had to hide away.
The prospects for Li Xiang's children are not very good. While her older sons have been able to receive healthcare and education from the government, they have suffered from the stress of their parents' situation with the two younger children. The younger children, however, have seemingly no good future ahead of them. Neither can be registered with the government, because their mother already has one child registered, so neither of them will receive healthcare or education. There is very little hope for these children who cannot even earn a wage or go to school without the Chinese government's say so. Li Xiang has hope for their futures, though, even though she knows realistically that they are not bright futures.
As we looked at the slides of this Maryland family's visit to China, we were told that the halfway house that sheltered Li Xiang has the women who stay there make Rosaries that can be given away with the request for a $25 donation. Our chaplain graciously offered to make a donation for each Rosary a student took, though there wasn't enough money to make the full donation for each of us. For our parts, we did each make whatever donation we could, and some of us were even able to make the full $25. I however, only had $1.19, which I sheepishly handed over, ashamed of the fact that I could give so little. I told our chaplain about my embarrassment before I gave the money, and he kindly consoled me with the story of the widow in Luke's gospel, who gave two copper coins, all she had, to the temple. He told me that I would be the student they told others about, giving what little I had to support the shelter and the mothers. I doubted it, but I was consoled when the mother of the family told me that even my meager donation would be able to feed a family for a week, such is the exchange rate now.
It's situations like these that sometimes make me wonder if God doesn't give us these circumstances to remind us that, even in what we perceive as poverty, even when we think that there is nothing we can do to help other people, there will always be some good which we can contribute to others. In this case, it was whatever money we students had, as even the full $25 doesn't get much here in Washington. But to these women at the shelter, and to Li Xiang and her children, this money will make a huge difference. In this case, it wasn't only about giving money to a good cause, but giving to our Catholic sisters in China and their children, and hopefully being able to save a few lives before they are born.
Someone who knew Li Xiang sent an email to the father of the MD family, also a professor at my university, and in it, she wondered what would become of Li Xiang's youngest son, Ping-ping. Would he live very long? Would he grow up to make a difference? Would he become a priest someday? It's heartbreaking to think of him in that way, but I do hope he makes a difference when he grows up. I hope he is able to aid women in finding the shelter that aided his mother, and that he is able to pay forward the gift of life he received from God through his amazing mother.
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