Finally Back Home in Rome

Over two months later, I am finally staggering back home to Rome. It is hard to believe how much I shoved into such a short period of time. After my month of French studies in Paris, I went to London for a few days. I lived with a beautiful parish community in Soho, and I was shocked to find out that this parish was where Archbishop Fulton Sheen always lived when he was in London. Many of his famous stories happened in this little church. I helped out at the parish a little, and spent most of my time visiting churches and museums. I went one night to see a production of Oliver which was very well done. My last day, I took a train out to Oxford. I loved seeing the place where so many famous writers studied, live, and wrote. It was almost a guilty pleasure to have a pint in The Eagle and Child where Tolkien, Lewis, and the other Inklings met for years.

I then went to Scotland where I met up with an American priest who is also studying at Rome. He was taking care of a cluster of parishes so that the local priest could take a vacation during the summer. The first day we explored Edinburgh, and had an amusing experience when we arrived at his rectory to discover that he had the wrong key and we were locked out. It was midnight at this point, and we seriously considered breaking into his rectory which I found to be utterly hilarious. Imagine an exhausted priest and seminarian trying to decide if they should break into their own house. Thank God, we were able to find someone who had a spare key. The next day we toured the southern part of Scotland where we saw the burial of place of Sir Walter Scot and the place where Robert the Bruces heart was buried. The next day, I went on a day tour through the Highlands. I was amazed by the beauty, and even more amazed when our bus broke down in the middle of nowhere. Just when I thought the day could not get any stranger, someone on our tour got left at the place where we met the new bus. In the end, we made it to our boat tour of Loch Ness. Although I never saw Nessie, I was able to enjoy a dram of Scotch while I watched tourists search the Loch with their binoculars.

The next day I flew out for a week and a half in Ireland with the cousins of my uncle. I cannot say enough for the amount of time and effort they put into my visit. They took time off from work, and spent that entire time period driving me all over Ireland. My memory is still flooded with images of beautiful monasteries and rugged countryside. It had been my dream to see Ireland for years, and it was well worth the wait. I will have to write more about this trip when I have time.

Eventually it was time to say goodbye to Ireland as I began the last part of my summer. For the next two weeks, I worked at a small parish in Sardinia. Sardinia is a beautiful island off of the southwestern side if Italy which is covered with mountains and beaches. I found that the people of Sardinia were just as beautiful as their island. It is a very interesting culture. Their island was settled several thousand years before by a prehistoric culture which has left evocative ruins throughout the island. In the less distant past, it had strong ties to Spain, and you can still hear the influence if Spanish in their native language. More recently, it became tied to Italy so its culture is a blend of all of these different cultural elements. I spent my first week working a retreat for high schoolers, and my second week was in the mountains with several other priests. This experience was such a blessing, and I pray that I am able to return to this parish again in the future.

One blessing and curse of this summer was the sporadic access to internet. Now, I use the internet as my primary means of communication, and I was unable to stay in touch with my family and friends for most of the summer. As hard as this was at times, it was also a blessing in disguise. It allowed me to focus completely on whatever I happened to be doing at that moment in time. I experienced the cultures deeply in every place that I lived because I had nothing to distract me from their day to day lives. I know that God gave me the summer that I needed to prepare me for the next stage in my formation. I was able to study, travel, visit with family, work with a parish, and live with priests from all over the world. It was an extreme privilege to be welcomed into so many lives from so many different cultures during the summer. I will hopefully write more on different aspects of my summer as time permits, but this gives a brief sketch of what I did.

After returning to Rome, we had a week of conferences to prepare us for the coming year. We are at a point in our formation when we are expected to come to a "presumption of our vocation." One year from now, I will be petitioning my diocese for my ordination to the deaconate and priesthood, and around two years from now, I will be lying face down on the floor of St Peters offering my life to Christ in a permanent and public way. With this on all of our hearts, my class was sent to a retreat center on a nearby mountain for a week of silence and prayer. It is amazing how close you can grow to those around you in the midst of a week with no communication. There is much to be said about how relationships can grow even without the use of words. I was grateful for this time to pray and reflect on all that has come before and all that lies ahead. I feel renewed and excited about all that stands before me. I remember thinking at one point that I am 29 years old, and I finally know what I want to do with my life. It was amazing to have that realization that I am exactly where I need to be.

Until next time, may God's blessings be on all of you.

Paris in the Summer

My time in Paris has been flying by! I can't believe that I only have around two weeks left here in Paris. My classes have been going well, and they take up most of my time during the week. The only true struggle is learning to pronounce the language properly. For some reason, I find French more difficult to pronounce than any other language that I have ever studied. Today after class, I couldn't even smile because my cheek muscles hurt so much.

Outside of class, I have been taking time to visit the various museums and churches throughout Paris. I have become friends with several people from my classes that enjoy seeing art as much as I do, so we will go to visit different places throughout the week. My favorite museum is still the Musee D'Orsay which focuses on the Impressionist Period. It has paintings by Manet, Monet, Renoir, Van Gogh, Degas, and other artists from this period. I also enjoy the Rodin museum. He donated most of his statues to the city of Paris so they have a beautiful collection.

On the 4th of July, I went with some American priests who are also studying at Rome to see Omaha Beach. Since we couldn't go home, we wanted to celebrate the 4th by seeing the price of freedom. It was a moving experience to stand on the beach where so many Americans gave their lives to help liberate Europe. The beach and cemetery were deafeningly quiet, and the sand was filled with messages of gratitude scribbled by grateful visitors. It was hard to not be moved by the experience.

Unfortunately, I forgot the computer cord for my camera at Rome, so I will have to wait to share my pictures.

As always, my love and prayers are with all of you at home, and I ask that you continue to pray for me as well.

The End of the Beginning

Everything has come full circle, and my first year in Rome is over. The year was filled with struggles and triumphs, and I am truly grateful that God walked with me every step of the way. What began with a trip to a new country to learn a language I barely understood has ended with a trip to another country to understand another language that I understand even less. My journey began a few weeks less than a year ago when I went to Assisi to do a month of Italian immersion. After surviving a year of theology classes taught in Italian, I find myself living in Paris for the next month while I take French classes at the Institut Catholique. After studying so many languages over the past few years, I finally understand that I will be able to learn anything if it is truly God’s will. No matter how frustrating it might be, I will achieve everything set before me as long as I do my best while trusting in God’s grace.

The other event which helped me to realize that one chapter is closing while another opens was the chance to serve for the Pope at the Pallium Mass on June 29th. Shortly after finishing my Italian immersion this past August, all of the new men for my seminary gathered at Castel Gondolpho to listen to the Pope speak at one of his Wednesday Audiences. I never would have guessed that the last thing I was going to do before leaving Rome was serve a mass for him.

As I reflect on the past year, so many events deserve entire stories rather than footnotes. I hope to slowly share my experiences of the past year that I have yet to write about as I slowly reflect on them over the summer. This past semester was very intense for me. It was filled with many competing events that all served to form me more deeply into the man God is calling me to become. I spent the entire semester working with the Missionaries of Charity at one of their Soup Kitchens. This has helped me to see ways in which I blind myself to the true humanity of the poor, and I look forward to continuing in this ministry. I also spent a large part of the semester playing on our seminary’s soccer team. We played in a league called the Clericus Cup which pits us against soccer teams from other seminaries and religious houses in Rome. We practiced twice a week and played a game each weekend which ends up being a major commitment. In the end, we shocked everyone by finishing in second place, and I think we have a good chance of winning next year.

Over Easter, I took a pilgrimage with four other seminarians through most of France. This pilgrimage was blessed by God from start to finish. My attempt to describe this trip turned into a short story which I hope to finish this summer. I also cannot forget to mention my classes. Somehow, by the grace of God, my grasp of the Italian language continued to improve over the year until I could understand most of what I was being taught. It is still tough to learn in Italian, but I am slowly improving day by day. It is amazing to look back and realize that I have been in Europe for a year now. This has been a year of grace, and I look forward to all of the years ahead. Thank all of you for your prayers and support!

In Memoriam...3-23-05

Its hard to believe that the 4th anniversary of the explosion is here. For all of my friends at BP, my thoughts and prayers are with you today.

It feels like every second of this semester has been filled. On a better occasion, I will share the many experiences that I have been going through. In the meantime, know that I am praying for all of you.

God Bless,

Luke

Thank you...

My continued thanks for the prayers and support of all of you. I have finished my first semester, and I am glad to have it behind me. Looking back over the semester, there have been many amazing changes and experiences. I have moved to Rome, learned a new language, and been able to travel to many places that I never even dreamed of seeing. In the first few weeks of class, I was not sure if I would be able to survive my classes in Italian. God was there, however, and every day I was able to understand a litle bit more in my lectures. Here I am four months later able to see all the ways that God blessed me. I can only be grateful for all He has done, and all He continues to do in my life. Every day is filled with the grace to love more deeply than I ever have before.

For all of you back home, you have my continued prayers and my gratitude for all you have done in my life.

In Christ's Love,
Luke

Finals, here we come!

I would ask all of you to keep me in your prayers as I prepare for my finals. I have Synoptic Gospels tomorrow, Revelation on the 3rd, Christology on the 6th, and Church History on the 12th.

Thank you for all of your continued support.

Luke

Italy, Oh Italy!

Today while I was on my way to my last class for this semester, I saw something bizarre enough that I have to take time out from studying for finals to share it with all of you. I have been here for around six months now, and I thought that there would be nothing else that the Italians could do to shock me anymore. Obviously, I was wrong.

After two weeks of living in Italy, you quickly learn that you should not try to understand why they do certain things that seem to defy logic. Anytime we started to ask "why would...", an older man in the school would stop us before we could finish the senetence. They would then pass down the time tested wisdom given to every American man who has lived in these hallowed halls. "Some things are better not knowing, the answer will only make you upset."

For example, why would cops chase down a motorist to yell at them for driving on a closed road when there were no signs or barricades or anything else to indicate that the road was closed. Remember, don't ask questions like that. Or why do they feel the need to clap every time a plane lands after a flight. Do that many flights crash here? Remember, you don't want to know the answer. Why don't they realize that a single file line will move quicker than an entire mob trying to shove through a small area at the same time while yelling and pushing each other. This doesn't make any... Oh yeah, you shouldn't wonder about that. The list could go on and on, but I think that you are getting the picture.

Today, they managed to make me forget my battle earned wisdom, and I accidently blurted out the question which I have carefully avoided for so long. As I got to the Greg today [everyone refers to the Gregorian University which I attend as the Greg for short], I noticed a large group of protestors with banners standing around the entrance to my school shouting at everyone inside. Italy is famous for it's scioperi [strikes] and manifestazioni [protests]. They will protest anything and everything. Sometimes it is worthwhile, and other times it seems to benothing more than a way to get an extra day off work. Sad to say, I got a little excited because I thought that I was about to see my first anti-clerical protest. As I walked through the crowd, I read the signs and had to check my eyes a few times. It wasn't an anti-clerical protest. It was a protest against Morgan Stanley and other banks which haven't been fiscally responsible. Why in the world would they protest in an out of the way piaza [square] about banks in front of a theology school filled first the most part with priests, seminarians, and nuns. Oops! I shouldn't ask that. Maybe they think that my school looks like a bank. But wait, there are around a thousand people in clerics and habits walking in and out of here all the time. Stop thinking! Don't ask why! Maybe they think the nuns are smuggling money in their habits for Morgan Stanley. I'm so confused. And when I thought it couldn't be any stranger, they began using a bull horn to chant at us about banks. Do all the other priests use Morgan Stanley? Maybe I should invest with them also when I have more money. Wait, stop. You still think that there is a reason they are doing that here.

In the end, I gave up. I was reminded once again that there are some things that I will never understand as long as I live in Italy.

My Institution as Lector

"Take this book of Holy Scripture and be faithful in handing on the Word of God, so that it may grow strong in the hearts of His people. Amen"

With these words, I was instituted recently as a Lector in the Catholic Church. Before Vatican II, the steps to Priesthood were filled with the minor orders of Porter, Lector, Exorcist, and Acolyte. These were then followed by the major orders of Subdiaconate, Diaconate, and Priesthood. As a gerneral rule, the minor orders at this time were reserved to those on the step to priesthood. After Vatican II in 1972, Paul VI issued the letter Ministeria Quaedam in order to reform these practices so that they could better serve the life of the Church. The steps required for priesthood were reduced to lector, acolyte, and diaconate.

In some ways, it seemed a little strange to contemplate being instituted because you can already serve as a lector and altar server in the US without it. At my major seminary, however, only instituted men serve during mass, so I was excited at the thought of being able to serve in the Liturgy again.

The Rite for Institution of Lectors is very beautiful. As your name is called, you stand and announce "present". This is a powerful moment, and I can only imagine how much powerful it will be when I repeat it at my Ordination. The first time I heard this, it sounded very dull. I tried thinking of a word that would sound more exciting, but there are no other words that will serve in this moment. I can't say that I am prepared or ready. To say that I am ready makes me feel like I am saying that I have done everything required to be worthy of this honor. But in the end, it is not about me. It is not about whether I have studied adequately or prepared myself physically or committed myself to embracing a life of celibacy and service. In the end, it is about God. He is the one calling me, and I can only respond to His invitation to service. So I rose to declare myself present to Christ, so that He may begin His work in me.

The bishop began by giving a homily in which he talking about our need to reflect deeply on the Word of God so that what we proclaim with our lips is coming from our hearts. He wanted us to see how everything we do on the altar is a ministry in which we seek to give Christ to others.

After some prayers, we are called forth to receive the Book of the Scriptures in our hands. As we grasp the book, the bishop exhorts us with the words which you read above. In the end, my heart was moved deeply by the experience. Before this, priesthood seemed like a far off dream that I could never reach. This event made it more real and close than it has ever been before. For the first time in three years, the goal is in view, and everything that I have been striving towards is finally becoming a reality. It also made me feel an even greater bond of brotherhood with the men here in the house. Going through this Rite within them at my side cemented the relationships that we have been forming over the past few months. We will continue to support one another over the next few years as we step ever closer to Ordination.

I would like to close with the words of the prayer used over us during the Rite:

"Bless our brothers who have been chosen for the ministry of reader.
Grant that as they meditate constantly on your word they may grow in its wisdom and faithfully proclaim it to your people."

NB: For those who would like to se more pictures of this event, go to http://www.pnac.org/ and click on the link for Lector Installation or Photo Archive. Both of these will bring you to a list of files. Choose the one labeled "2009.01.11 - Lector Install"

Here are better links for my pictures

I apologize for those who tried to check my photos, and were not able to because of the large size. I thought you would be able to select Albums individually which was not the case. Here are the links for all of the Albums separately:

Brugge, Belgium: A wonderful Medieval town. Highlights were the canals, ancient buildings, Eucharistic miracle, handmade lace, and flavored gins. This was my favorite Belgium town. I was especially moved by the Eucharistic miracle. You are able to go up and touch this vial holding blood that is said to be Christ's preserved since the Crucifixion which was brought to Brugge after one of the Crusades. I am sometimes skeptical about claims like this, but I was very moved when I was able to touch the vial and pray over it. I can also attest to the fact that the blood still looked fresh to me.

http://www.kodakgallery.com/ShareLanding.action?c=zuf920z.7kh680oj&x=1&y=3o0577&localeid=en_US

Brussels, Belgium: A larger more metropolitan city. Many beautiful buildings, and the famous Mannekinpis. It is exactly what it sounds like, a fountain with a little boy peeing. They dress him up in costumes throughout the year, so you will see him in a Santa suit.

http://www.kodakgallery.com/ShareLanding.action?c=zuf920z.1wlp454j&x=1&y=-5cw63w&localeid=en_US

Leuven, Belgium: Another wonderful town in Belgium. It is a University town filled with students. Belgium is known for its beer, and Leuven was a wonderful place to sample it. Some of the buildings were beautiful, but the best part was the ability to relax and enjoy the atmosphere. For those who know about Fulton Sheen, I stayed at the American Seminary where he studied while in Leuven.

http://www.kodakgallery.com/ShareLanding.action?c=zuf920z.1bnq07zn&x=1&y=-gldhq9&localeid=en_US

Cologne, Germany: Famous for the Cologne Cathedral which contains the relics of the Three Magi which were brought to Cologne during Medieval times. The front of the Cathedral is over 500 feet tall, and is quite stunning to look at. The rest of Cologne was destroyed during WWII, so it was more modern than I expected. My great grandparents were married in the Cologne Cathderal, so I wanted to make sure I visited it this t=year.

http://www.kodakgallery.com/ShareLanding.action?c=zuf920z.2aolc0hf&x=1&y=-304gar&localeid=en_US

Prague, Czech Republic: A beautiful medieval city. Krakow and Prague were two of the few beautiful medieval cities to survive destruction during WWII. It has many famous sites such as Charles Bridge, the Prague Castle, and Old Town Square with the Astrological Clock. Prague is a great city to get lost in and explore.

http://www.kodakgallery.com/ShareLanding.action?c=zuf920z.54h0um5n&x=1&y=-l38sil&localeid=en_US

Auschwitz, Poland: I wrote on my experience at Auschwitz earlier, so I will leave it at that.

http://www.kodakgallery.com/ShareLanding.action?c=zuf920z.5jhotmsr&x=0&y=qnju0a&localeid=en_US

Wieliczka Salt Mine, outside Krakow, Poland: A World Heritage Site worth visiting. It is one of the largest salt mines still in operation, although its operation is fairly limited now. The miners in their spare time would carve statues and chapels in the caverns they created while mining.

http://www.kodakgallery.com/ShareLanding.action?c=zuf920z.1jcw0pe3&x=1&y=plezu2&localeid=en_US

Krakow, Poland: My favorite European city so far. This is where John Paul II spent most of his life prior to becoming Pope. The historic portion of the city is small, but I was able to spend days there without being bored. The city is currently very cheap because it is not on the Euro which makes it easy to spend a lot of time there. It has great antique stores, beautiful parks, great vodka, and good food. Even more important, it has a vibrant Catholic culture. This city has more Churches per square mile than any other city with the exception of Rome. Of note is the Wawel Castle area.

Also mixed in this Album are pictures from our Lady of Czestochowa.

http://www.kodakgallery.com/ShareLanding.action?c=zuf920z.67nojhqj&x=1&y=-t362ju&localeid=en_US

Pictures from Christmas Break

Here is a link to my pictures for Christmas Break:

http://www.kodakgallery.com/ShareLanding.action?c=zuf920z.beqaqc2z&x=1&y=a01ogw&localeid=en_US

Included will be pictures of Leuven, Brugge, Cologne, Brussels, Krakow, Auschwitz, and Prague.

Auschwitz

I have been back from my Christmas travels for a few days now, and I have been struggling with how I can put the last few weeks into words. I have erased sentence after sentence because none of them come close to what I want to say. Halfway through my Christmas travels, I realized that something intangible felt different. I could see that God was using this time for something, but I was blind to what was occurring. Last night, I realized that part of what occurred is that Rome finally became home. The time spent away from Rome allowed me to miss it, to see that what was once foreign has become familiar and comfortable. Coupled with this has come a deep peace about where I am in my life and what I am working towards.

That being said, the first part of my trip that I want to talk about is my time in Auschwitz. When I first arrived, I was first struck by the utter incompatibility between the cold message over the gate and my Christian faith. It proclaims that "Work sets you free" while my heart shouts that only grace can give me the freedom I seek. The guide explained how the prisoners would march out to classical music every day as they went to "work" for freedom that only came with death. I can only imagine the utter irony and pain of being subjected to these great atrocities while listening to such beautiful music.

As we toured the various places in Auschwitz which was one of three camps, we were shown room after room filled with artifacts left from those who had been killed here; rooms full of glasses and prosthetic legs, shoes and suitcases, children's dolls and human hair. The shock of such chilling efficiency which wasted nothing. The hallway filled with pictures of men and women who died in this camp was equally chilling. This was the work camp, unlike the nearby death camps of Birkenau (Auschwitz II). Yet these poor souls lasted only a few months before they succumbed to the horrible conditions. Here a priest shot to death, there a gypsy worked to death, here another prisoner beat to death. All equal, sharing the same tragic fate. Some lasted several months while others died within weeks. I was moved by seeing the Starvation Cell where Saint Maximillian Kolby died. In reprisal for attacks by some prisoners, several other prisoners were chosen to be starved to death as an example. When one of the chosen prisoners cried out, Maximillian Kolby offered himself in his place. Maximillian wanted to make sure that those who were dying were prepared to meet God. Witnesses say that they would hear Maximillian leading the other condemned prisoners in songs as they waited to die. After two weeks, everyone was dead but Kolby. In the end, the Nazi doctors gave him a lethal injection because he was not dying fast enough for them. This reminded me a Vatican exhibit I saw in Houston many years ago. Amidst all of the beautiful chalices was an old tin cup and a piece of aluminum bent to form a small plate. These were the chalice and the paten used by Maximillian during his time in Auschwitz. Somehow the Vatican obtained it, and the Pope used it in turn to celebrate mass in his memory. Amazingly enough, the man who Maximiliian replaced survived the war, and was present at his canonization.

We took the short bus ride over to Birkenau, and I was shocked by the immense size of the prison camp. Buildings and fireplaces and chain link fences and guard towers stretched as far as the eye could see. The sad part was that most people who came to Birkenau never made it to these shelters. Only the chosen few were allowed to work to their deaths, most were sent straight to the gas chambers. As I wandered these grounds where sinners mingled with saints, I could not help but wonder who I would have been. Would I be like Maximillian who was sustained by faith and hope of future glory, or would I give into despair. How many beacons of hope walked through these camps sustaining the faiths of those sent here to die?

Yet I also had to wonder how anyone could have taken part in this Holocaust. What motivated those who took part in the slaughter on innocents? Did the war machine make them lose their conscience? I know this can't be true. One of their last acts before abandoning Birkenau was destroying the Crematoriums. They knew that what they were doing was wrong. I'm sure that the reasons were as diverse as the people who participated. Some did it out of hate, others out of fear, while others did not have the courage to say no to what had already begun. Some conducted inhumane experiments under the guise of altruistic motives while they were only giving reign to curiosity without the bounds of morality. What would I have done? Where would I have stood? It is easy to say that I would never take part in something like that, but how many of us have given into hate in our lives. How many of us have judged others because of their race or creed or economic status or sexual preference or disability? The Holocaust shows us what happens when these hatreds and prejudices are given free reign. They used every single one of these categories to choose who deserved to die.

I can hear the response now, "But we would never be stupid enough to let that happen again!" Yet our generation has seen genocides throughout Africa and many other places. Our generation has allowed the Silent Holocaust of Abortion continue unabated for far too long. Our generation has allowed science to tread onto areas deemed unthinkable years before in the name of common good. Have we truly learned out lesson as we allow travesties against human rights to continue in our own country and throughout the entire world?