How Much Is Really Missing?

Lately (well, that's generous, it's been a week and a half or so), I've been praying the rosary on my drive home from work. It was on the suggestion of my beloved wife; for some reason, it's easier to pray the rosary on our respective drives home than it is to remember to say it together every night. That's not meant to be negative in any way... and on the drive home, I'm fasting in a very small way by not listening to music or podcasts.

To celebrate the Octave of Easter, I prayed the Glorious Mysteries today. As my mind drifted a little bit, I wondered why we have the mysteries we do. Other than the Luminous Mysteries, I confess my ignorance of the origin of the other three sets of mysteries. Then I digressed further, wondering why Bl. John Paul II didn't create further sets of mysteries. He could've gone nuts! There could be the Healing Mysteries (like the man born blind, paralytic lowered through the roof, the raising of Lazarus, the daughter of Jairus, etc.), or the Spiritual Warfare Mysteries (curing of the various demoniacs, rebuking of Peter, Gethsemane, the temptation in the desert, etc.), or the Conversion of Heart Mysteries (Saul of Tarsus, Zaccheus, Thomas on Holy Saturday, road to Emmaus, etc.). With the abundance of powerful Gospel stories, the possibilities are vast!

Yet when I came to the second Glorious Mystery, the Ascension of Jesus, I realized there was a lot more to it than just a divine elevator. I count it as an insight of the Holy Spirit: buried within the mystery of the Ascension is the great mystery of the Church. Why didn't Jesus stick around longer? We don't have any answer to that, except the Church. Because of a reason known only to God, He wanted mankind to spread the Good News. As soon as Jesus ascended, an angel appeared to the apostles and said, "What are you looking up in the sky for? Get to work." We don't know why God did it this way, only that He did.

The mystery of the Church is an awful big one to consider. There's enough in the current mysteries of the rosaries to keep you thinking, if you cast your nets into the deep.

Respect for Authority

Earlier this week I went to the soon-to-be-defunct Theology Uncorked in Mt. Angel. The topic was conversion of heart, especially in light of Lent. Daniel, a friend in the parish, gave the talk and it was great!

With all due respect to the content of his talk (top notch), the biggest thing I walked away with was nothing he said; it was how he said it. As he was talking, there was no doubt in my mind that he believed every word that he spoke. He was so excited about the truth! Honestly, it’s very refreshing to hear. So often we strip the WORD of His power, forgetting its fire.

In the early days of Theology Uncorked, one of my best friends gave a very interesting talk about the modern “I’m spiritual, not religious” paradigm. One of his best points was that many people that fall into that category are looking for something sincere and genuine. Of course, the paradigm is entirely subjective; it’s impossible to nail down a single cause. Still, I thought he made a really good point.

Both of those Theology Uncorked nuggets brought me to Luke 4:32. “And they were astonished at His teaching, for His word was with authority.” The two words that elevate the verse are ‘astonished’ and ‘authority.’ Taken in order of priority, ‘authority’ comes first. That’s what my friend Daniel spoke with, though he was never arrogant, overbearing, or self-absorbed. When the human instrument surrenders to the Truth, the Incarnate Word—stunning things can happen. Jesus, of course, did this perfectly. And the same Holy Spirit that was infused in Him is given to us! The unfettered power of the Word Who IS can astonish, amaze, work miracles, and strike deep into the heart of the listener and speaker.

That is the voice we need to bring to the world.

Happy Feast Day!

Today is the feast of Our Lady of Lourdes! It's a special devotion both in my family and in my personal history.

Starting chronologically, with the story itself... I love it! Bernadette was a normal little girl who was granted an amazing vision of the Blessed Mother. She was simple, unschooled, and sick (with tuberculosis) girl. But she must've had an amazingly pure, loving heart--not only to merit being chosen for the apparition but to endure the craziness that followed. The apparitions caused quite a frenzy in the small town; Bernadette went through very intent scrutiny from both the civil and religious leaders. Later in life, as a nun in a nearby convent, Bernadette's suffering continued until her death at the age of 35.

Continuing chronologically, in 1979 I was baptized on this day. :)

In the ensuing years, I remember my grandparents having a "statue" of the grotto, with Mary and St. Bernadette there. Along the side of the grotto were crutches and canes, left by those who were cured. This was something neat for me to see as a kid; it was even more special when my dad received it upon the passing of my grandmother.

Next, when I was in college, I studied abroad for one semester in London. It was 1999. For one long weekend, I made the trek down to Lourdes. I've written about my trip before, so I'll stick to the one prominent memory of it that stands head and shoulders above the rest. I felt so loved and so special. Even thinking about it makes me smile, nearly 13 years later! It was a wonderful grace from God, to feel so loved by His Mother. And, indeed, she has that same love for everyone! Seeing the complete & uncontainable love that Jesus had for all of us, is it any wonder that His Mother feels the same? We are dear to her!

Years after my trip, I came to a greater appreciation of the human side of saints. Not like I never did in the past, far from it (don't have to read very much of Augustine to see that he was human). Still, at some point I rediscovered the above picture of St. Bernadette. She was real! Just a kid! The amazing things I see in her are twofold: that God worked through a normal person and that even the most ordinary person is capable of great holiness.

In 2009 I met this pretty redheaded girl. :) I found out her confirmation name was Bernadette! What happy circumstance! That's not why I married Erin, of course. It felt like Our Lady was tapping me on the shoulder, saying hello, reminding me that she was still taking care of me.

Finally, my wife and I experienced the most crushing pain to date in our lives. On Valentine's Day in 2011, we found out at the ultrasound appointment that our baby had miscarried. One of the ways that we grieved through the loss of our baby was to name her. (we figured it was a girl) We named her Bernadette Hope Kubasak. The first name was because it was special to both of us and the middle name as a reminder of the future.

God has blessed me so much through Mary, Queen of the Angels, Mother of the Savior, and my Lady of Lourdes!

Breaking Through the Darkness

I've taken to listening to a podcast by a Catholic biblical scholar named Michael Barber. He interviewed a convert (Steven Ray) and the subject of conversion came up a few times. It reminded me just how much I love conversion stories. A useful exercise from my CPE days was to ask: what's behind that?

For the sake of starting with a positive point, I'd say that a big reason I love conversion stories is the hope it gives me. In the daily life of any Christian, a painful martyrdom sounds easier than living a consistent, holy life. Praying every day, living a true Christian charity, and taking up one's cross in the littlest ways. We need to fight the good fight, run the race; it's easy to lose sight of the goal and focus on the fight itself, the race itself. Once we do that, we're toast. We'd be crushed under our own burdens. Hearing about a conversion story restores that hope--hope founded in the promise of salvation.

Not only do we have hope restored, but our thoughts are refocused on that hope. Salvation! Heaven! What we were truly made for! Our compasses need constant refocusing, especially when it comes to moral decisions. But focusing on our eternal destination doesn't just help with morality; it helps us bear the burden of suffering, gives us the "big picture" when we're drowning in the minutiae of life, and most importantly, it provides that little reminder that God loves us enough to fashion us an eternal destination.

On an emotional level, hearing a conversion story is very affirming. To be totally honest, part of the feeling is pride. "See, I'm right!" That's simple human nature. If the affirmation stops there, it's useless and our pride cancels out the grace sent our way. Any warm, fuzzy feeling of affirmation has to be founded in the truth. As a Catholic I believe the Church contains the fullness of truth--as founded & established by Him who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

Lastly, don't forget the power of God. We have the Scriptures with us every day and we're very comfortable with the that our God kind and loving. That's very true, but our Lord is a God of words and deeds. Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead! He fed 5,000 people! He spoke and the stormy sea subsided! Our Lord can work similar wonders in our soul!

O Patron, My Patron

Today is the feast of the glorious apostle, evangelist, sprinter (John 20:3-4), and theologian: St. John. Earlier today I planned to write a glowing post about the surpassing awesomeness of my patron. Alas, for this close to bedtime, some scattered thoughts will have to do.

I can't imagine what John's life was like after the resurrection of Jesus. John shared some intimate moments with Our Lord during His Passion: resting his head on Jesus' chest during the Last Supper, following Jesus up the road to Calvary, and then being given charge of Mary... from Jesus, as He was dying. How crushed John must've been to see Jesus die!

Maybe that's why John ran so quickly to the empty tomb. There must have been some glimmer of hope, hanging on for dear life... perhaps from John's learning? Schooling? Something about being raised on the third day... If John & Peter knew what backflips were, they would've been doing them all the way back to the upper room.

What a blessed life he had! Knowing Jesus personally and then taking care of Mary for the rest of her life. The conversations they must've had! Imagine going to their house for dinner and hearing their stories! ("You know, John, you should really write all this down...")

St. John, pray for us!

Just Like Breathing

Back in the seminary, a common homiletics technique was to start a homily with a story. Ever since my time in the seminary, I'm not incredibly fond of that technique. It can be effective if done well, but often I find it distracting and a waste of time.

One of the stories I heard in a homily was the story of a wise, holy man instructing a young man on the importance of prayer. They were walking by a river and the wise man motioned for the young man to kneel down next to the water. The old man suddenly takes the young man's head and forces him underwater. After a little time had gone by, the old man jerked the young man's head out of the water. Shocked and gasping for air, the young man looked angrily at the old man. "When you realize that prayer is as important as breathing, then you will learn how to pray."

I hated this story, and not just because I later saw it in a book by the heterodox Jesuit, Anthony DeMello. Isn't there a non-violent way to convince a person that prayer is vital? How about a way that doesn't involve drowning? Maybe it spoke to some people, but not to me. I couldn't help but envision myself as the young man, eager to learn from the wise man... and that if that happened to me, the lesson I'd come away with is not to ask old, wise men for help.

Still, the underlying principle (prayer is important) is a huge lesson. And, I begrudgingly admit, the lesson is one that everyone has to learn by some sort of experience. It doesn't really matter how much someone tells us the importance of prayer. For us to truly believe its value, we have to experience it.

Recently, I had a wake-up call in my prayer life from a very unlikely source. I started doing push-ups every day, and I have done multiple sets of push-ups every day (but one) in the past two weeks. It was the inspiration of the Holy Spirit that getting healthier involved doing little things each day... and that I didn't have to lose 40 pounds in a week. I've averaged about 60 pushups a day on week days and far fewer on the weekends. Let me tell you, the effect it had on me was incredible.

My spirits were higher. Things didn't get to me half as easily. I felt like a million bucks those first few days! Chalk it up to endorphins or slowly developing discipline... whatever the exact cause, the effect was amazing. What I came away with? I can't believe I didn't do this before; something so simple making that big of a difference!

I immediately thought of my prayer life in the same way. Holiness is gained on the battlefield of everyday life. Many saints have said it; this isn't an original thought. Doing push-ups has been that experience for me--the convincing, lived experience. Doing small things well on a daily basis makes all the difference in the world!

Another Highlight

Today I went to daily Mass at St. Joseph's and discovered another great change in the new translation. In Eucharistic Prayer 3, the previous line was "may He [Jesus] make us an everlasting gift to you..."

The new line now has "eternal offering." I don't mind too much about everlasting/eternal, although the latter seems to point more directly to heaven than the former. The main thing that stood out was the word "offering." Gift is a synonym of offering in some senses, but they're not an exact match. An offering brings more baggage, so to speak. All the Old Testament sacrificial offerings (most notably the Passover lamb) come to mind. The word "offering" also brings up the sacrifice of Jesus on Calvary... and our participation in it!

1 Cor 10: 16-18 "The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread. Consider the people of Israel; are not those who eat the sacrifices partners in the altar?"

Col 1:24 "Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I complete what is lacking in Christ's afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church"

With these two passages, St. Paul is trying to convey how intimately we're involved in the sacrifice of Jesus. We're not just outside observers! We are partners in the sacrifice and we can take our own sufferings and offer our sacrifices in union with Christ's sacrifice on Calvary.

Having "offering" in Eucharistic Prayer 3 adds layers of richness to the words.