Time to Retire "Pro-Life" -- It's Lost its Meaning.

by Dan Masterton

I’m a big Parks and Rec fan -- relatable, lovable funny characters, true-to-life relationships, the real and the absurd side by side in an earthy yet zany small town. One of the iconic characters and quotables is Pawnee City Manager Chris Traeger, expertly played by Rob Lowe.

Chris is an excessively perky, optimistic person prone to frequent hyperbole. He loves to describe people, things, and moments as “literally” (pronounced “LIH-troll-ee”) his favorite, the best, etc., despite logic suggesting his declarations could not actually be legitimate superlatives without having considered every possible alternative in the universe.

Nonetheless, the peppering of the word “literally” into everyday conversation caught on with a lot of people. While many used it jokingly in an homage to this delightful character, of course some people used it as an augmentative word, an odd misuse meant to bolster the magnitude or emphasis of what these people were saying. And thus, literally -- a word that is “used to emphasize the truth and accuracy of a statement or description” -- came to also have an informal usage: “used in an exaggerated way to emphasize a statement or description that is not literally true or possible” (Webster).

Words can become meaningful or meaningless. We can make up words to describe things that are as yet indescribable, and we can also butcher language to invent words that are downright inaccurate, empty, or preposterous (my personal favorite: traveshamockery, used to describe things that are both a travesty, a sham, and a mockery). Sometimes, we use what we’ve got in order to make sense of complex issues; the original intention is usually to increase coherence and clarity, but the result can instead be oversimplification, reduction, or even downright inaccuracy.

I’m not old enough to know the exact origins of the moniker “pro-life,” but as I grew up, I saw the word associated with a social conservatism that sought to uphold the value and dignity of life, chiefly by opposing the legality of and rights to abortion. As political and ideological trends have ebbed and flowed in American politics, and as emphases from Church leaders have tugged back and forth, the emphasis of being “pro-life” has often been mostly, chiefly, or entirely on opposing abortion rights.

Republicans have been the party that consistently and thoroughly sought to limit and push back abortion rights. Simultaneously, they’ve continued to support the death penalty, to support inhumane and draconian immigration policies like family separation and child detention, to oppose reasonable gun control while sustaining excessive gun rights, to put little attention on paid paternity leave, universal health-care, and systemic public educational improvements, and more. To say that this package of positions is pro-life is not only inaccurate; it betrays the definition of the word.

Rather than standing for policies that uphold and advance the value and dignity of life itself, pro-life has come to stand for a narrow, specific agenda, one that aims to elect politicians and sustain the power of a party that will target abortion laws, court appointments, and the overturning of legal precedent. This is neither what the word pro-life literally means nor does it provide any meaningful insight as to the people and policies it modifies.

It is more fitting and accurate to describe the Republican Party, as relates to life and the single issue of abortion, as “anti-abortion-rights,” since it steadily fights to limit or eliminate these rights. Relatedly, while Democrats champion other related issues around women, mothers, and families, their stance on abortion has become primarily about preserving and expanding abortion rights and less about the idea of “choice,” and ought to be described as “pro-abortion-rights”.

If we are to realize a refreshed, renewed approach, a different term with a new chance at really meaning something is in order. Ideally, this would be a word or phrase that would have to be earned by parties, politicians, and policies.

My studies, spirituality, and work and teaching in service and justice with young people has been hugely informed and shaped by Cardinal Bernardin’s consistent ethic of life -- the idea, symbolized by Christ’s seamless garment on the way to the cross (John 19:23-24), that life is completely and inviolably dignified and valuable from conception to natural death. In my teaching and ministry, this has included sharing my personal view and the teaching of the Church that abortion is absolutely morally wrong. Teaching and living this ethic also includes fighting these threats to the unborn as well as issues effecting children, families, adults, and the elderly, including but not limited to education, health-care, gun control, the death penalty (with fresh catechetical explanation), end-of-life care and medical ethics, and sexual ethics.

American politics presents Catholics, and many others of goodwill, who strive to uphold this life ideal with a false political dilemma -- choose either a “pro-life” party that opposes abortion but neglects a broader culture of life or a party that protects and expands abortion but otherwise dedicates itself to many crucial life issues. Third parties like the American Solidarity Party offer an alternative, but the consideration here should broaden beyond just what party to support or which candidate to vote for.

The consistent ethic of life offers the best measuring stick for how a party, politician, or policy reflects much of what is at the core of our Gospel values. Though I will always seek out nuance and deliberate analysis in political and social thought, I also know that succinct monikers can be galvanizing in stirring and growing support.

I think the closest thing we have right now is the “Whole Life Movement,” an alignment of pro-life Democrats, progressives, and feminists who ascribe to the fullness of the consistent ethic of life. I could imagine a healthy slate of Whole Life politicians and leaders -- Democrats who want to contain and reduce abortion rights access to make abortion safe and legal but very rare while still supporting universal health-care, addressing climate change, and constraining second amendment rights responsibly; Republicans who carry their party’s opposition to abortion rights but buck their party with dignified, compassionate immigration stances, a desire to bring health-care to everyone, and sensibility about checking unlimited second amendment rights; and I could imagine third parties that acknowledge the place where the majority of the country is on abortion building out a left-center to right-center coalition on consensus social policies.

Much like the memories of past seasons and retired players,
it's time to send the word "pro-life" up to the rafters,
where we might look at it and remember how it was used
but not speak it and apply it in modern life anymore.

Regardless of where we land on what to call this -- and no, I will never accept irregardless as a word -- I am more than ready to retire the word “pro-life.” I don’t want to hear it to describe any party, any politician, or any legislation. I don’t want to hear it to describe any judge, any legal precedent, or any potential court case or side. And I certainly don’t want to use it to describe myself, my faith tradition, or my Church. Its meaning has been distorted to the point of meaninglessness. Pro-life should be retired into the rafters of English language, where it can soon begin collecting dust, instead giving way to a new descriptor and hopefully a new movement.

Published at Grotto Network: Why Not Drinking in College is Totally Normal

Finishing up high school and heading into college, I felt like sort of social oddball. Even my most conservative friends who had steered clear of drinking previously were trying out a night of drinking -- people wanted to learn their tolerance, figure out their levels, and be ready for alcohol-based socializing in college. Not me. I knew I wasn't interested in drinking until 21; my concern was figuring out how to find my anchor points and make friends when I was so uninterested in the main ways people would likely be doing that.

First of all, this process taught me one of the clearest ways to figure out social plans in a way that worked for me, one that I still largely use into my adult life and my 30s:

It wasn’t that people who mainly preferred going to parties would have been bad friends; it’s that the point of going to these parties was mostly or mainly to get drunk. I learned that a good way to test a social situation for me was to ask: What are they really doing? If a group was playing drinking games and calling it a competition, or booming loud bass music and calling it dancing, it just felt like a thinly veiled excuse to get hammered or worse. When my more low-key friends were sitting around, even if someone was sipping a beer or two, we were just hanging out. Maaaaaaybe someone was drinking, but no one was getting drunk. This sort of situation where drinking wasn’t the thing we were doing was my preference. These friends had that approach, and I wanted this kind of friend to be “my people.”

Secondly, I learned how to make friends and then sprinkle in social drinking second. I think other people's approach probably worked fine and yielded plenty of friendships and social opportunities. For me, my sort of backwards approach gave me something that feels more sustainable and positive.

Read the whole article at Grotto Network, where you can check out lots of great articles and videos to help you make an impact, navigate life, and keep the faith.

The archive of my contributions is also housed there at this link.

Published at Grotto Network: Feeling Tedious? Change Your Perspective of Time

by Dan Masterton

Those of us who went through Catholic high schools almost certainly became familiar with Kairos. It the apt name for a retreat offered at many of these schools. Adapted from the Ignitian Spiritual Exercises, the retreat calls for young people to let go of their routines, their calendars, their watches, their schedules, their technology -- and instead be present to one another and to the presence of God, and see the significant impact that can make. For most participants, that context is rare and perhaps intimidating but cultivates vulnerability and trust to help young people build or rebuild stronger relationships and reengage their lives of faith anew.

For adults, especially during a pandemic with safer-at-home orders and cabin fever, and also during a time of major social unrest, the concept of kairos challenges us to find a different relationship to time and the potential stresses and agitations it can bring.

We can get really bogged down in chronological time in our daily lives. It’s often necessary — and indeed healthy — to maintain a schedule and track our commitments carefully. It keeps us organized, respects time as a limited resource, and helps us anticipate and prepare for specific tasks and moments. Yet, we also hopefully know that when our lives are completely scheduled out with no space for spontaneity, we can end up slogging through life robotically. 

The idea of kairos can help us understand the complementary element that must be present within our chronological living. What does having a lot of “clock time” matter if it’s not meaningful? To tap into meaningful moments, we need to be willing to be vulnerable; we need to commit to being present when spending time with others; we need to approach interactions with an attitude of humble mutuality and reciprocal encounter. These underlying attitudes can help foster kairosmoments in our days, and when we experience more spontaneous kairos moments, they help underscore the positive impact of living out such values. While major moments like a milestone birthday party or a marriage proposal may be obvious kairos moments, smaller kairos moments can come in the regular flow of life with the right mindset. Easier said than done, I know.

Read the whole article at Grotto Network, where you can check out lots of great articles and videos to help you make an impact, navigate life, and keep the faith. The archive of my contributions is also housed there at this link.

Published at Grotto Network: Can We Stay ‘Green’ During the Pandemic?

by Dan Masterton

A few weeks into following social distancing and safer-at-home policies, I was doing my usual excessive scrolling of social media one day. Normally, I can pretty easily navigate the waters of polarized opinions and way-too-hot takes up and down my feed. But one tweet and the surrounding commentary set me off a bit.

Talking about the increased dependence we now have on carryout meals and the single-use plastic elements it takes to deliver it, someone had shared "Glad we didn't completely outlaw single-use plastics yet!" The sarcasm and personal annoyance was clear -- here's someone who is tired of laws requiring us to pay for plastic bags or bring our own reusables, someone who isn't interested in transitioning to reusable silicon and metal straws, and who otherwise has no time for laws that nudge us toward greener living.

To some extent, as silly as I feel it is, it's simply partisan differences of opinion. Some folks don't think this stuff should be legislated and compelled by law and costs/fines. Ok, fine. I disagree, but fine.

Where you lose me is when you don't acknowledge the data relating to production-based pollution, facts about related pollution of oceans and waterways, and patterns of lazy overconsumption and excessive consumerist attitudes across big portions of society.

Another layer to this silliness is that some people with these perspectives do not make a distinction between emergency circumstances and everyday life. For example, widespread purchasing and consumption of bottled water is totally justifiable and necessary when a community is hit with a natural disaster like a hurricane or tornado or is facing a crisis of access like with leaded water in Flint. Similarly, people in emergent situations, like those who are homeless, should be provided bottled water to meet the emergent need of their thirst while they do not have stable access to clean drinking water from the tap. Or, take the current situation, where it is not safe for us to dine in on washable plates with washable silverware and napkins, etc., when we depend on plastics and styrofoam for carryout/delivery food. All of these are emergencies that warrant relaxations. But everyday life does not include these situations.

I tried to find some calm and perspective and spell this out in a neater package:

Some of the progress we have been making socially in green living is getting stunted. And in many cases, this is just fine. We need to be prepared to deviate from norms in order to protect ourselves and the common good.

When it comes to plastics, there are certain levels of usage that we just have to accept. It’s not safe right now to dine in and eat off washable plates with washable silverware, so the level of waste in carry-out will have to be weathered while we follow our rightfully imposed restrictions. 

We do not have to write ourselves a blank check for total disregard of the environment, however. And we don’t have to sit back and lower our standards permanently.

Read the full piece here at Grotto Network and check out my author archive here to read more of my work at GN.

Learn about your recycling program; clean and sort your materials for landfill, recycling, or compost; and do your small part -- it may not be huge in quantity but your knowledge, your example, and your subsequent conversations will move the needle in the right direction.

Glimpsing the Kingdom, Even in Lean Times

by Dan Masterton

Being mostly a stay-at-home dad is a definite and fitting call for me. On the upside, I’m around for my kids a lot and get to do a lot with them. On the other hand, sometimes doing things with me isn’t all that special.

Take, for example, my 3-year-old daughter, Lucy, and her bedtime routine. She watches a wind-down show, brushes her teeth, and tucks into bed for two stories. When we ask who she wants to read, she always chooses mom. On the three days when my wife, Katherine, works her 12-hour shifts as an inpatient nurse, she’s not home for bedtime and Lucy’s stuck with me; so on these days when mom is available, she’s a slam dunk choice. What’s more, when we’re at Gramma’s house or she visits us, Gramma leaps me in Lucy’s pecking order, too.

Now, this pandemic has created strange times for everyone. For us, it means being apart indefinitely. Katherine is a hospital nurse, and various nurses are taking shifts on COVID-19 units. She has been and will be working directly with virus-positive patients on some shifts. As a result, we felt we couldn’t risk exposure within our family, especially to our children. We surveyed our options -- nearby family, Airbnb rentals, etc. -- and weighed the logistics. The best all-around option was for me and the girls to relocate from our Chicago-suburban home to my in-laws’ house near Dallas. It is challenging but necessary.

Each of our first four nights here, Lucy chose Gramma for story time. No big surprise. But then, the fifth night, she stopped Gramma after the first book and asked her to get me... Up I sprang! I grabbed the book! I read! I turned off the light! I said our nighttime prayer together! I hid my excitement under a calm demeanor befitting a little kid’s bedtime.

Here’s the best part. Lucy usually sleeps with two or three of her favorite stuffed animals who enjoy the prime real estate under her arm and under the covers. I just settled in beside her, since we lay with her until she falls asleep. But then she reached her little hands past Bow the teddy bear’s head and reached for me. In a wonderfully clumsy and affectionate way, she sort of just grabbed the sides of my head and enveloped me into the bedtime cuddle.

I cried gentle tears. She fell asleep. I stayed a little longer than usual.

I’ve long believed that the fullest way we can know and experience the Kingdom of God is by being ready for the glimpses we catch of it. And it’s when we are definitely and fully doing God’s will, particularly in specific actions, that we get these peeks. We live our earthly lives in faith, hope, and love. In the Kingdom, faith is fulfilled and hope is realized; all that remains is love -- and our life in God’s Kingdom will be absolute and total love.

God’s Kingdom exists above and beyond time, and our state in heaven will be a boundless, timeless love. Meanwhile, in our earthly lives, we accept situations where we must be attentive to time, holding to schedules and respecting appointments. Yet, our spirituality craves moments of timelessness. These are kairos moments, where rather than counting the minutes and hours we are instead present to a reality that is not so constrained -- namely, love.

In moments like this, when my roller-coaster of a 3-year-old daughter is simply making a pure action of love, I glimpse the Kingdom. Three-plus years’ outpourings of love given to her to help her start becoming who God made her to be -- it then comes to me, not in a transaction but in a self-gift from a tiny human. Here, I become the recipient of a kairos moment of love from my daughter. Though the finite length of that moment may have been a few chronological minutes, the essence of that moment can live in me and my heart forever. And my ability to be present to it as it happens, and to hold it within me, is what builds my interior sense of the Kingdom. And it’s what then fuels my love in action to glimpse the Kingdom of God in relationships with others.

Friends, everything does not happen for a reason. God did not send a pandemic to teach a lesson. This virus is not the direct effect of some social or personal sin. However, God does allow bad and evil things to happen. Illness and pain are cruel. Death is a horribly difficult thing to face and process, both when we experience the passing of others as well as when we contemplate our own mortality. Amid so many stories of heavy weight, I feel most melancholy about those who suffer and die with no visitors at their bedside, and I hope most strongly for courageous priests to be present for companionship and sacramental anointing.

The opportunity here is that, even as bad and evil is allowed to unfold, God remains with us and loves us without interruption. And His love moves with palpable velocity when it walks through our feet and is shared through our hands. The world is hurting deeply now, but God and His love dwell in every corner of it, not fleeing from the hurt but living ever present in its midst.

We all have opportunities to glimpse the Kingdom, both in the love we give by our actions and the way we receive others -- whether by the healing and care of health-care providers, by the resilience and steadiness of those who work to keep us fed, or by the solidarity we demonstrate by remaining at home and constraining our outings. When those things you believe and hope for are present, even in small moments, even amid wider hardship, God’s Kingdom breaks into a weary world. If our hearts are open and aware, these glimpses are consolation and fuel that propel God’s love forward through us, out to others, and all around our communities.

Writing Must Be Gift: The Long and Oft-Learned Lesson

by Dan Masterton

Available April 2020!

My friend, Cari, and I have co-authored a book that is being published. With about 20 years’ campus ministry experience between us, we wrote Cultivating Faith: A Guide to Building Catholic High School Campus Ministry (available at NCEA.org). It's a basic, simple, practical resource on the structure and potential growth of Catholic high school campus ministry. Our hope is that it can be instructive for schools that are starting or re-starting their campus ministry and can also serve as a comparison point or recalibrator for schools with long-standing programs. The book is being published by the National Catholic Education Association (NCEA) and will be available at their website and at their conference and other major events.

* * *

Trying to become and be a writer has been a complex path. It sort of started with thinking, as a high schooler, that I wanted to study journalism in college. It evolved at college -- my work with the student newspaper and athletic department as well as my early classes in journalism helped me get experience with an activity I loved but a career and hustle I didn’t. It refiltered through a blossoming and sturdy love for theology and ministry and faith-sharing into a blog and an ill-fated first try at authoring a book. It's gone through fits and starts as I've tried to be more active in independent ministry and freelance writing, sometimes finding opportunities while also often coming up dry. There’s some interesting tensions and insights from walking this road.

For one, I’ve found a lot of tension with wondering how much energy to put into “getting myself out there.” People who become social media influencers, YouTube “stars,” and other well-known folks in the modern age, including in this sort of ministry, frequently only reach that level following a good deal of self-promotion. Even my favorite Chicago Cubs blogger, whose hustle is deeply admirable and whose work (and that of his writing team) is exemplary in quality and balance and tone, has only reached this level of reach through constant self-promotion -- plugging new posts, encouraging social media follows constantly, and even establishing cross-promotions as a partner brand/affiliate with others.

I’ve always struggled with this. Though naturally a fairly arrogant guy with a penchant for speaking with sharp conviction and coming off as a bit of a jackass, I have a tough time with being self-promotional. I believe what I’m writing is interesting and important and worth sharing, but I hesitate to amplify it. I certainly love when I get a new Twitter follow, when a post from the blog generates an above average level of engagement, or when people share my posts. But I’ve never found a comfort or proficiency with how, when, or even why to do it. My friend and former co-writer, Laura, taught me well when she signed on to the blog crew -- she explained that she was happy to write because she’d be sharing thoughts and reflections she was having anyway. That sort of indifference is the ideal mindset. Theological/spiritual/ministerial writing has to be gift, offered freely without expectation for whoever might come across it and how they might engage.

I’ve always had ideas about how to try to widen my reach in freelance ministry -- build this Facebook Page, cold-contact parishes about Theology on Tap engagements, suggest myself as a professional development speaker to my friends in Catholic education administration, etc. These are things that I have done and will do from time to time. However, the one real good, solid piece of advice that I got along the way was to find a platform.

The sought-after and desired writers, speakers, keynote-givers, formators, etc. are those people who are doing good work -- perhaps at a higher level and greater effectiveness than others though perhaps not -- and are doing so at a place or with an organization that is more widely known or has some sort of name-recognition. Their names and work are sort of organically “out there” by virtue of the community and/or position through which they minister, and the best arrangements proceed out of this kind of natural interconnectedness. These folks are getting the kind of ministerial engagement and dialogue I desired because they were serving the Church faithfully and connecting with others through the natural means of fellowship, community, and ministerial development within their fine work. How. Cool.

The problem for me with respect to this was that, just as I came to understand it clearly, my life focus was shifting into my new marriage and desire for children. As my wife, Katherine, and I were expecting our first child, we decided we wanted to avoid daycare, and I pursued a new arrangement that allowed me to be mostly a stay-at-home dad, working just enough to make a few bucks but not conflicting with my wife’s full-time schedule. It kept me active in ministry, but it left me less free time for writing. Instead, I had an exciting new, different, fuller plate with my daughter (and now, daughters). This invitation from God to being a faithful husband and father was not exclusive of writing and other ministry -- it instead invited me to put whatever aspirations I harbored for ministerial engagement on a smaller burner nearer the back of the stove.

I’ve found a real comfort, a definite peace, and an active joy in stay-at-home-dadding. As I’ve learned my girls’ ever-changing habits and created and revised routines, I’ve found where the nooks and crannies are for my self-care and self-sustenance. It means late-night stationary bike rides, early-morning (short) runs, and nap-time/quiet-time writing jags. In this constrained space, I’ve also found intentionality -- rather than trying to ramp up or widen my reach, I find my attention is on pursuing narrower, more specific opportunities that fit in these spaces and move me to focus well.

Through a friend’s referral, I was blessed to reconnect with Josh Noem, once the editor for FaithND and its daily Gospel reflections (of which I once wrote a few), and now the editor for Grotto Network -- a new online ministry geared toward Catholics and other spiritually curious folks who need some prevangelization before maybe digging deeper into their faith and/or religion. Learning to craft my ideas in dialogue with the needs of a defined audience and the known interests of those who are searching has pushed me to grow a lot as a writer. And Josh’s informed and compassionate editing has helped me understand how to present ideas more effectively. It has meant less original content on my blog but has also invited me into a platform where a diverse slate of writers and an intriguing pool of readers can engage with spirituality and thoughtful living anew.

And this brings me back to the matter of this book. The influence of my old bosses got this ball rolling. While working at St. Benedict Prep in Chicago, I came to appreciate and understand the importance of professional development. Rachel Gemo and Erika Mickelburgh were thoughtful about offering us regular opportunities to stay fresh and grow as professionals, both through on-site programs (that came through students’ days off or early dismissals rather than as tack-on’s to busy school days!) as well as funding for external opportunities -- for instance, my professional money one year funded my educational immersion in Uganda with Catholic Relief Services. During my last year there, Erika and Rachel encouraged us to consider attending the following year’s NCEA conference in Chicago and even to consider applying to present. I took that nudge: I repackaged a student program for designing, implementing, and directing a retreat into a presentation and applied for the conference. I was accepted and given a seminar slot.

I had no idea what to expect. Thousands attend this conference. The menu of seminars offered was vast, and I felt like an insignificant tiny speck in a loaded program. But I also knew that with so many attendees, there was bound to be specialized folks around and administrators looking to check into a lot of different areas. What I got was a room of about 25-30 people from different parts of the country and different levels of school staff and leadership. What did my heart well wasn’t just the attentive listening -- it was the thoughtful questions afterward and, even moreso, those who stayed to talk more.

One of those kind souls was Cari White, from St. Edward in Cleveland, who initiated a great conversation with me about her school and their campus ministry. Over her years of PD, she has tried to build a network of campus ministers and theology teachers (rather successfully, I’d say!), and there’s a Facebook group with 150+ people going strong that also meets up in person at conferences like this. Cari mentioned that she had engaged with NCEA on perhaps writing a book for campus ministers, sort of a survival guide to help them figure out how to operate or even get started. We traded email addresses, and I was pretty fired up walking back to the train ride home.

I pestered her over email during the following weeks. Pretty soon, we were outlining a table of contents, then chapters, and then a whole book, somehow becoming friends and collaborators despite having only met in person once. Cari had carefully laid great groundwork and graciously invited me into it. She even welcomed my imposing editing. What we ended up with is a nifty 100-page kit to seed new campus ministries, and now with cover art approved, inside design finished, and publication on the horizon, we’re excited to share the work coinciding with the NCEA (now-online) Conference this year.

* * *

If I ever had the gall to write a spiritual memoir, one motif I’d hopefully be able to highlight is God’s perennial invitation to me to surrender -- to surrender my desire for control and order to the spontaneous love of my goofball children; to surrender my longing to structure our family budget and finances to be in that perfect sweet spot and instead practice more relaxed diligence and trust; and in writing, to surrender the intermittent aspirations for wider exposure and greater opportunity in favor of those opportunities which come through simpler, faithful living.

My platforms in ministry have never been ones of wide reach or major name recognition. So much of campus ministry is a slow burn of constant invitation and opportunity for young people. And when you can do big things like border-trip immersions or international pilgrimage, the greatest impact lies in the future realizations that experience say seed, perhaps so many years down the line that you will never witness it in your former students.

In writing, God’s invitation for me is one of surrender -- not to worry about how a job opportunity or career path or twist or turn of life may hamper or improve my chance to continue writing. Instead, God invites me to faithfully live my multiple vocations as husband/father and pastoral minister/writer. In that faithful living, when I relax and follow my creativity and spirituality with honesty and authenticity, that is when I make the connections and find the opportunities to write, share, and engage. And the invitation continues to be to that more focused life of fidelity. It’s there that I’m advised to find a platform, to pursue professional development and share my expertise and experience, to collaborate with a like-minded and self-starting colleague, and to share a part of myself I didn’t think I’d get to share in a way I never imagined sharing that ends up carrying forward this part of my call. I pray our work in this book makes some impact for faithful ministers in our Catholic high schools, with whom I’d love to engage, and may the Holy Spirit continue to cultivate and build this part of me and continue forming me into who God made me to be.

Published at Grotto Network: 5 Tips for Using Trivia Night to Build Community

by Dan Masterton

Shout out to my old crew, the undeniably smart, clever, and boneheaded team of Andy Dick Tracy Morgan Freeman -- once all bound up in Chicago, now scattered across the country.

Trivia night at the bar is perhaps seen as something only for nerds, over-competitive gym class heroes, or people who are an intolerable mix of both. On the contrary, trivia night is surprisingly accessible, pretty low-pressure in most cases, and a heckuva fun way to have a snack and drink out on a weeknight.

A few years after I moved back home to Chicago, one of my best friends from college moved to Chicago, too. One night, he invited me out to a night of bar trivia. I was excited.

I love trivia. I used to play with my parents and their friends when I came home for visits and always wished I had a team of my own. Here was my invitation. But it was with a bunch of guys I didn’t know very well. Wanting to reconnect with my old friend and have an excuse to see him every week, I decided to jump in.

It was a great decision.

To continue reading, click through to the full article at Grotto Network, and journey onward through their website for tons of great reads on a wide range of intriguing topics.