Pilgrimage

The idea of a pilgrimage never really came to me until college. After I made the Folk Choir and our introduction to the year-end tour info began, Steve and company described it as a pilgrimage, or at least a pilgrimage tour.

The idea is that we were taking a trip with an intentionality to it. We weren't just traveling from stop to stop, taking pictures and seeing the lookout points. We were visiting abbeys and singing for monks, staying with parishes' host families and singing concerts and masses, and raising money for local Catholic communities' needs. Our trip had a purpose beyond leisure, relaxation, and sightseeing.

All of our tours took on that connotation to some extent, and interacting with so many priests, host parents, children, and choirs added a depth to our travels that legitimized the idea of its being a pilgrimage - even when our comp-ed trip to Disneyland or visit to Fenway Park might have rerouted the path to different areas of religion.

I enjoyed adding the element to my travel sensibilities. My family vacations were always great combinations of fun, but we rarely incorporated pilgrimesque elements into our plans beyond Sunday masses. It's now an integral part to all my travel planning. My trips now always involve some kind of search for a church or holy site. Our wanderings in Vienna and Krakow in March 2010 were entirely guided by church-searching, or as we called it, a church crawl.

Things have gotten so advanced now that the first trip I have set out for myself to a destination beyond Ireland is Spain for the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage walk. Along with Colin - studying in Toledo - and Kurt and Molly, the four of us will walk 114km from Sarria into Santiago, arriving at the great cathedral built on St. James' tomb. We'll hug the 1000-year-old statue of the saint, attend pilgrims' mass (with butafumeiro for All Saints Day we hope), receive our compostelas (pilgrim certificates), and pray with an international community of pilgrims all along the way.

Only because of a centuries-old stream of tradition and prayer can a four-day-walk through a strip of northern Spain become a destination. In the footsteps of so many others seeking to dedicate some time and effort toward a spiritually-infused journey, our flights and train and lodging all become a part of a different kind of trip, more than an itinerary.

We will journey to a sacred place, using the mysticality of the Body of Christ as the way we unite with not only each other but our fellow pilgrims along the way, the ones who walked before us, and all of those who we carry along our way in our hearts. It's gonna be awesome.

Catechizing, Theologizing, and Conversing...

I have recently discovered the online version of America Magazine. At some point when I am stateside again, I'll probably subscribe. But, in the meantime, I've been enjoying the things that are posted online for guests to read.

I just poured over this article by Michael G. Lawler, professor emeritus, and Todd A. Salzman, a professor of Catholic theology at Creighton. It analyzes the roles and boundaries of magisterium and theologians/lay teachers/catechists. 

I found too many nuggets and quotes to seize upon, so if you'd like a reading companion to the article, I pulled a bunch of things that stuck out to me and commented below. It's lengthy, but much of it is quotes and my explanations are only suggestions from a humble blogger - Enjoy!

"To avoid conflicts with the magisterium that may lead to investigation and censure, the theologian should focus his or her efforts on explaining and defending magisterial positions."

- At first glance, this guideline seems a bit alienating. Why can't theologians be clever, reflective, and faithful enough to initiate thinking on a certain issue or position? After thinking about it for a moment, I realize that this is dangerous ground. The laity, at least in the Catholic Church where we affirm a hierarchy of leadership and trust our teaching body of bishops and priest, must not get ahead of those we entrust with interpreting the deposit of faith. However, much like with Scripture study and reading, I think it is an activity we can undertake mutually with our leadership. I think rather than approaching such a potential conflict with skepticism and frustration, it is an opportunity for theologians and lay people to test the things they come to in investigation of their faith by sharing it with other people, especially those who have been consecrated in their lives toward that end.

"Theologians considered unsafe—those whose positions differ from the magisterium’s on open or noninfallible questions—are discounted. This procedure is a double-edged sword. One edge permits the magisterium to claim that the pronouncement has been made with theological consultation and agreement; the other edge provokes a response from theologians who have not been consulted."

- This is a touchy issue. In most situations, people thinking critically and analytically will pursue radical thought and disagreement in hopes of strengthening their case. Anticipating arguments can help your original case. However, in cases of truth, it is difficult to seek out those who profess things we know to be false. Would you want to have an atheist in the room when elucidating the Christological two-natured doctrines? Some people would say yes; I'd lean towards no. I think a legit alternative here is to have firmly confident Catholics play the devil's advocate and put on a mask of skepticism to scrutinize theology. What's the difference between that and a legit skeptic? This person's end is still truth, Christian truth, while the atheist is seeking to tear the whole thing down. You sort that one out further if you'd like.

"In fact, however, many theologians are forced into the inaccurate classification of dissenters because they have been deprived of a consultative voice that might have been helpful in the beginning." 

"Polarization permeates the theological community as well. The magisterium, by consulting only those it expects to agree with it, implicitly endorses one school of theology over another and provides a quasi-sanction for that school’s work. Then debates are settled by a claim of authority, as when Bishop Olmsted ruled that St. Joseph’s Hospital in Phoenix was no longer Catholic."

- The flipside of this issue is alienating those who believe themselves to be faithful Catholics by labeling their scrutiny and criticism as overly radical or even heretical. It's tough when you ace out someone who believes themself to be faithful because you may have alienated them to the point of making them what you claim to be by that action of allegation. I'm not familiar with the processes of institutional elucidation and choosing those who help to be the filters, but I imagine edgy, radical folks are left out of consideration, and this is where the alienation comes from. If I were them, I'd feel pushed aside and belittled. My hope is that those on the fringes who are definitely faithfully and theologically Catholic will keep their hearts burning and keep trying to bring challenging ideas into dialogue with the faith. Easier said than done.

"The lack of broad theological consultation, which freezes out the “unsafe,” also damages the entire body of the faithful who detect the tension between the magisterium and a large majority of theologians. These tensions are frequently aired in the media and often escalate into outright hostility."

- Here comes the alienation that so many Catholics feel and that makes Catholicism so easily criticizable by Protestants and non-Christians. By having a centralized and institutionalized and hierarchical organization to our Church, we naturally create tensions just by virtue of how things transpire. Our Church still is home to plurality of belief. However, Catholics are asked to approach creedal and moral beliefs with the attitude that even if they can't completely say they believe and understand something entirely, they will still profess a hope for deeper understanding and grasp when they pronounce "I believe." By belonging to our Church, you're not asked to agree with everything and understand it entirely, but you are asked to profess belief in those things as a pledge that you will make conscientious effort to wrestle with those parts of being Catholic that are most difficult, troubling, or perplexing to you.

The side-effects to this are two major things...

(1) People will either leave an issue of tension behind them, unincorporating it from their faith and creating buffet or pick-and-mix Catholicism, or forsake active Catholicism as a result of one or more of these tensions, creating lapsed Catholics. This is easily fixable if we encourage an atmosphere of conscientious dissent that seeks to investigate disagreements and incomplete understandings rather than use them as cause for laziness or apathy.

(2) The disagreements between authoritarian decisions and loudly dissenting priests or laity become framed in disjunction and disconnect because of how people present themselves/their thoughts or how the media responds. If priests and laity alike would present their dissent in terms of seeking deeper understanding and a desire for perpetual dialogue to increase understanding, the disagreements could be baptized into good faith rather than attention-grabbing and alienating episodes.

"Since the [Second Vatican] council, however, theology has become largely a lay profession exercised predominantly in both Catholic and non-Catholic colleges and universities. This change has introduced voices, especially women’s and third world voices, that had never before been part of the conversation."

- This is a beautifully good thing. The perspective of women helps to widen the scope of eyes and voices that witness to the faith, and the rise of "third-world" Christianity only deepens it. But, since the thoughts are new, it will take time for people to grow used to the outlooks of the newer voices. It doesn't excuse prejudice or ignoring these voices, but hopefully it will give pause and patience to those pushing too hard for the growth to continue. Again, easier said than done to be patient, especially with those who don't care to hear these newer voices.

"Professor Crowley describes sensus fidelium as 'the mutual inspiration by the Holy Spirit of teachers and learners in the Church, the pastorum et fidelium conspiratio...the delicately balanced relationship between the teaching function of the church and the role of the laity in arriving at an explicit knowledge of the content of faith.' True dialogue recognizes that both are gifted with 'the charism of learner-teacher,' the charism that is available to the whole communion—church, bishops, theologians and the entire body of the faithful alike."

- This is just a great understanding of the authority vested in the people of the Church as a whole. Leadership, especially in teaching and exclusively for sacramental worship, is entrusted to the clergy, but all baptized people - the universal call to holiness - have the gift of "learner-teacher," no matter what vocational call they answer.

"For its part, the magisterium must be patient in allowing open debate on open, controversial topics among theologians and slow to intervene prematurely to close debates. That patience requires what John Paul II called a 'dialogue of charity' between the magisterium and theologians, without threat of disciplinary or punitive action (“Ut Unum Sint,” Nos. 17, 51 and 60)."

- I really love this part. While not settling the question entirely of "safe" v. "unsafe" theologians, it encourages those issues to be aired out patiently and with understanding. Grievous errors in dialogue must be confronted; those who speak anti-truth still occupy a very dark grey place on the spectrum. However, critical voices ought to heard with patience, so that their qualms and comments, if truly advancing false point, can be fully and clearly refuted. The conversation must be a patient and open process of charitable reception. Listening up, down, and across is crucial to complete conversation.

"Bishop [Gerald] Kicanas [of Tucson] asserts: 'Clearly there needs to be room in an academic community for disagreement, debate, and a clash of ideas even in theology. Such debate and engagement can clarify and advance our understanding. In discussions with local bishops, faculty need to be able to disagree and question with mutual respect.'"

- And good ol' Kicanas brings it home by adding the caveat of respect - not just patience and charity but respect. We must add a layer of dignity to our exchanges. Careful listening and the offer of opportunities for voices to make their points must all happen under a sense of dignity, that each person, no matter how true or false their point may be, gets the treatment that they are a child of God. Each person must receive from us Catholic people the sense that their words are received by someone who views them as a valid, human, dignified source of insight. Disagreements must be colored by interpersonal care for one another. This is how we can convey our faithfulness and Gospel values despite differences of opinion or belief, whether within our Catholic Church, across the lines of the Christian Church, or through the spectrum of human belief.

Let Him In.

I was sitting at daily mass the other day, and as I looked diagonally to my left, in my sightline to the altar and the Eucharistic prayer, there were two special needs adults with their helper. I struggled to keep my gaze fixed on the altar as their simple movements and jitters were a part of their participation in the mass.

New translation and responses aside, the man held the card with the words printed on it upside down as he briefly studied it, and the woman stood and sat with gentle self-awareness, knowing she was in the front, without a kneeler and with everyone's eyes behind her.

The man gingerly followed his helper out after mass. The woman dutifully brought her water bottle to the holy water dispenser and filled it up almost to full.

A week earlier, I sat behind two older ladies and their grandchildren. The kids squirmed and fussed during mass, the boy being more antsy than the quietly composed girl. They played with each other and sometimes looked to their elders for affirmation and attention. They hardly knew they were in a sacred place, and their attention was scattered. The girl fending off playful attacks from the boy, and the boy plotting his next sporadic move.

I struggled differently to connect with what was going on in the sanctuary those days, but it focused my connection through the people around me, the Body of Christ in front of me in my fellow congregants.

I thought to myself - how lucky are we to not have our distractedness, our sometimes uninspired sense of obligation, our short attention span, our unsureness about what to do or think or say... how blessed are we that all those things remain inside us, only to come out as we see fit to share them?

Mass would certainly be a lot harder for me if my short attention span or my tangential reflection (sometimes good, sometimes excessive) were externalized and put on display. My self-awareness would spike, and I might close up pretty severely.

How blessed am I that my sins, my struggles, my crosses are things that I can share with people as I desire, as I build trust, as I attempt vulnerability?

Little kids and mentally challenged adults are some of those who don't get the chance to keep it in inside. Thank God most children have families who practice patience as their children grow and mature, and thank God that people like Sarah and Flan join programs like L'Arche to care for those people that need the extra attention to realize their dignity as created children of God.

Meanwhile, we should be grateful that we have the chance to sort it all out within us and share it with others as we need. I am grateful that my faults are not all completely broadcast externally. I have the control to let people into my challenges.

The hardest challenge can often be letting God into our internal struggles. I use the right words, say the right things, but the trials of my hardest challenges can be mitigated somewhat by God to the degree I commit to prayer and allow Him to shoulder the load with me and for me.

Your Love Is Strong

Ok, so thanks to the influence of my brother Tim, who gave me the songs to add to my iTunes, and my friend Jason, who lovingly plays the songs incessantly on guitar and turned me onto the easy playability of them, I have gradually come under the spell of the EP's of Jon Foreman.

He falls into the category, at least most of the time, of music that is Christian but is not necessarily Christian Music. I tend to be a little averse to the latter but gravitate strongly to the former. And it's probably a case of predisposition, but I really enjoy Jon Foreman and Dustin Kensrue for these reasons.

My most recent haunt is Your Love Is Strong, from the Spring EP (one of four for each season). Often times, refrains of songs will bring home the points we need to hear, but in this case, it's a little bridge that takes me somewhere. Let me work my way into where the song overlapped with the trains of thought running in me already.

The root of my daily, lived faith is that I really enjoy finding God, finding Christ, in the interactions I have with people. I need to be better about placing in interactions with strangers and those I don't know, but when it comes to people I know and those I am meeting, I find it every time and it's spectacular.

Here in Ireland so far, it's been ubiquitous. Of course, the parish staff, which backs and supports and emboldens us, have been incredible in helping us out. People have blown through the house to add a few things - a fence and gate, a toilet paper roll holder; people at mass have been warm and welcoming in introductions - Kurt and I even ran into a woman at the grocery store who noticed us and gave us a lift home; we mingled with high schoolers after a prayer service who were delightfully friendly and talkative; a parishioner connected Kurt and I to a local running club; the club's coach offered us free membership and gave us the full training schedule to join as we could. That's not nearly the exhaustive list. It's been no problem to bask in the hospitality of Christ over here.

But before this, I could come from a position of strong faith. Most recently, it's been my Vision communities. 2010 helped solidify me as the person I have become, affirming my gifts and embracing me as a listener and talker alike. 2011 took the torch and ran with it. I was stronger and more mature, and my new family let me gently lead them while giving me so much at the same time to grow. They taught me the power of walking a journey in community, sharing so that you learn and grow together, forging a powerful bond that transcends being dispersed abroad and away.

But before this (at least Vision 2011), I found incredible stability and great love with my girlfriend, Katherine. We profoundly founded our relationship on honesty, and that, coupled with the love we have come to share, has created a mutual support system that allows both of us to be completely who we are. We can share things without fear making the other mad, and everything we're thinking and doing is welcome to be talked about anytime. It makes for a really life-giving relationship that makes me more comfortable and confident being myself, and it's the type of relationship that is the model for all my other friendships, where I can give and receive love because I'm knowing it there.

But before this, I had Folk Choir. I spent four years immersing myself in a community where one receives absolute and complete permission to be his or her self. We share a common goal in giving permission to people to pray through song, whether in the basilica loft or on the road across the country. But we share a deeper, familial bond because of the time we spend together and the way we let our lives into our community. We become brothers and sisters, more than just colleagues - chatting it up on buses, sharing host families, and frolicking on campus and on tour. Our music ministry is an extension of the lives we spend together.

And before this, I had my high school. I had campus ministers and religion teachers who cared about me. They took special interest in me and encouraged and affirmed me to participate and later lead others in religious things. I had retreat leaders who gave a damn - people who wanted more than a faith-related resume line, who shared themselves to help me see how I could do it, too.

But it all started with my family. It took my mom and dad's deciding to baptize my brothers and I and raise us in a Catholic household. We went to mass as a family event. I went with my dad to the Easter Vigil because it was fun to share that major liturgy in our faith with someone I loved who loved to be there. I got to go to Catholic school through their commitment, and my mom taught at our school because she delights in teaching children about the sacraments and preparing them for their firsts.

Love begins to be taught somewhere, and I have been blessed enough to have started learning it at home, from the start, with Christ involved. It has followed me through all my days to here.

And it's because of this that I am able to build friendships where that love of Christ can flourish. Love that affirms and permits but also criticizes and cautions. Love that wants what's best for me, but not at the cost of who I am or who I could be. I have parents and brothers and a girlfriend and best friends and friends who offer me the ear of Christ and the voice of Christ.

I am not saying that each person's every word is the will of God articulated in speech, but I believe I can trust my relationships to be - albeit not the fully disstilled version - the will and peace of God given to me. Grace mediated to me from my Christ in others.

You all send me on my way with your care.

So why Jon Foreman? The first bridge from this song asks,

So why do I worry?
Why do I freak out?
God knows what I need.
You know what I need.

Your love is strong...

If I am faithful, if I am reflective and prayerful, if my eyes keep opening to grace, you - my friends, my family - can be the love of God, very real-ly in my life. And your love is strong. :)

There I Can Be

The readings for this Sunday encourage us to take action in helping one another with our problems. The trajectory of the readings takes us through our approach to this Christian outreach.

The first reading gives us the sometimes harsh justice and bluntness that the Old Testament often provides. It tells us that if we tell a wicked person that they are wicked but do not seek to help them alter their life, then God will hold us responsible for their downfall. However, if we do seek to help the wicked, even if they refuse, God will not deride us. Rather, in this "you shall save yourself."

Our second reading gives us a chance to associate self-preservation with this challenge to help others. Surely, we all take great care to set out an attractive life for ourselves. To varying levels of success, we seek to know ourselves well enough to learn those things that we must improve on. I have found myself to be too often deficient in compassion, and I have learned that I am compassionate toward newer friends -- whether week to week with high schoolers at Vision or those people I meet day-by-day -- but am too short with my closer friends. We usually take these words of Paul -- "You shall love your neighbor as yourself." -- as something like "treat others how you'd like to be treated," but why not incorporate some sense of self-help into this? If we seek to treat ourselves with a sense of self-improvement and care, let's offer ourselves to others in this way.

It's hard for Catholics who don't espouse an exuberant evangelism of biblical stories and verses and specific preaching points. However, our Christian living can involve some of this. One way that I've come to understand as a way that can work for me is providing an example. To use a gardening analogy, I try to keep my grass green and my flowerbeds bright. My hope is that people will see my landscape and seek to improve their own, whether through conversation with me or without my ever knowing. The challenge here is to not be entirely passive. I have no secret formula for that.

There is no secret formula for any of us. We want to be independent, individualistic, self-sufficient. We don't want the help. We don't want people to act high and mighty or holy-roller-ish or condescending. But hopefully, we can build friendships and relationships of love where the times we must call each other out or pose challenges can come from a genuine, established place of love that mitigates the aversion to help that we can sometimes cling to. For as Jesus tells us this Sunday, and always, "Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them."

May we remember that as we love one another and as we criticize and confront one another, especially if we build relationships for love and not popularity or superficial means, that Christ is there with us and in us.