Bishop offers thanks for prayers...

Bishop Richard Stika has finally returned home to us in Knoxville after a lengthly stay in hospital last week. He is doing well and attributes his recover so far to so many people who have offered prayers on his behalf. He will visit a specialist at Vanderbilt tomorrow (Wed.) and hopes to get further treatment for his vision there. Please continue to pray for our local apostle of Jesus as he tries to get back into the swing of things here in the Diocese. dpat :)

Please pray for Bishop Stika....

We are all short on details right now, but our new Bishop Richard has been hospitalized with a "medical emergency" in Florida today. Please pray for his recovery; storm heaven with your prayers on his behalf. Bishop Stika has endeared himself in a very short time to all of us in East Tennessee that have gotten to meet him and get to know him. Our local apostle of Jesus Christ now needs our help.

Please keep in mind that gossip and misinformation can deter us from praying with intelligence, so please lets just all simply pray hard for our Bishop, and for the doctors and nurses who are now caring for him.

dpat

Heading down to Haiti tomorrow:

I would ask for your prayers for our mission trip down to Boucan-Carre, Haiti. We will drive down to Atlanta tonight and then fly out early in the morning to Port-au-Prince. We will then take 4x4 toyotas up into the Central Plateau to spend a week of work, prayer, and reflection in the midst of the our friends in the western hemisphere's poorest country. Please pray for our collective safety, that we would remain healthy while down there, and that hearts would be moved and changed through the experience.

deacon pat

Follow me as I ride for the Feist Family to Labrador...

I'm leaving today on a long trip to take time to pray, spend time with Christ alone on the road, to go someplace totally new for me, and basically get away from it all on a self guided retreat. I've been thinking a lot, lately, about the Feist family in the aftermath of losing a baby and a wife and mother. Nancy was a great friend to KCHS and advocated for our school always. She was also a constant fixture on First Fridays at the Holy Trinity Chapel, where she would leave her super busy job at the Chancery and come to pray in front of the Blessed Sacrament. So while the whole school was getting on with a normal day at the end of a busy week, Nancy and a few others (you know who you are) would come and usually take the last slot of the day and sit quietly and pray for all of us. In the words of Hope Feist, "she was a prayer warrior." I will be riding, praying, thinking, reflecting, and exploring for the next 12 days or so. Please come along with me vicariously, and pray for the Feist Family. If you have any prayer intentions, I would be happy to pray for you--so just e-mail me or FB me and let me know what's heavy on your heart. I will have nothing but time and I'm eager to take on new petitions. I've set up a special blog just for the ride so e-mail me what's on your mind. Here is the link to the blog:

http://feistkids.blogspot.com/

Love: Hope's Eulogy for Nancy and Peter

THE FOLLOWING IS THE EULOGY GIVEN BY HOPE FEIST FOR HER MOTHER NANCY AND HER BABY BROTHER PETER DAVID ON JUNE 24TH, 2009 AT ALL SAINTS CATHOLIC CHURCH, WHICH WAS PACKED WITH PEOPLE, PRIESTS, DEACONS, AND EVEN FOUR BISHOPS. NANCY FEIST WAS A GOOD FRIEND TO ME AND AN ADVOCATE FOR ALL THE CLERGY IN THE DIOCESE OF KNOXVILLE. SHE WAS THE EXECUTIVE ASSISTANT TO OUR TWO LAST BISHOPS SINCE 2000. NANCY WAS ONE OF OUR FAITHFUL GUARDIANS OF THE EXPOSED BLESSED SACRAMENT ON FIRST FRIDAY'S AT KCHS. SHE LOVED KNOXVILLE CATHOLIC HIGH AND SHE WILL BE GREATLY MISSED BY ALL WHO KNEW HER. PLEASE KEEP THE FEIST FAMILY IN YOUR PRAYERS. HOPE FEIST IS A SOPHOMORE AT KCHS AND IS THE ELDEST DAUGHTER OF NANCY AND DAVE'S FIVE CHILDREN. MAY NANCY AND HER SON PETER REST IN PEACE IN THE STRONG ARMS OF JESUS, FOREVER, AMEN.

____________________________________

“I love you, higher than the sky, and deeper than the ocean”

I can’t tell you how many times in my lifetime my mother has said those words to me. It was our own phrase, our trademark, and I think it says a lot about her. The first reading that we chose for today talks about a mother’s love. And even though we’re told God’s love is even greater than a mother’s, our mother’s love, I believe her love was just about as boundless and plentiful as any love comes.

I’m standing in front of you all today, and in the space of three or four minutes I’m supposed to tell you all about my mother. I don’t know what to say and what not to say. I’m supposed to tell all of you about her life, her loves, her goodness…… everything. I don’t know how I’m supposed to do that, but I sure as heck am going to try.

Back at Monsignor Thoni’s 60th anniversary celebration just weeks ago, when Archbishop Kurtz did his homily, he was able to sum up Fr. Thoni’s years of service in one incredible sentence. I can’t think up a good sentence like he did, but I do have one word for Mama. Love. In everything she did, everyone she met. Mom was love.

Daddy, I know you already know this, but Mommy loved you more than anyone else on this earth. She would have done anything for you. And I know everyone around you has been telling you this (and I don’t mean to be repetitive) but she won’t stop loving you from where she is. She’ll be with you as much as she always has been. And baby Peter and the two others are right there with her.

Justin…. I don’t even have real words of wisdom for you. You always loved and cherished Mommy. You were so thoughtful, and you tried to get her to do what she needed for herself more than anything else. She loved being there for you. She loved helping you with projects and coming to your games. She loved those midnight conversations you had with her after everyone else was already asleep. I’ll tell you what I told Daddy. She won’t stop loving you. Ever.

Ryan. I know how much you love Mama and how much she loves you. I know how special she was to you. I know you remember a lot of times with her from when you were really young. You remember snuggling with her early in the morning, and knocking on your ceiling in the middle of the night because her bedroom was right above yours. I’m sorry we used to tease you for always being the one to try and sit next to her at dinner and that sort of thing. I know she remembers that with love. She was so proud of you in everything you did, and everything you learned. And she always will be.

Craig, honey. You hang in there. I know how much you loved Mommy and how much she loved you. Remember all the time you spent with her? All the times driving places in the van, all the hugs, and all the kisses. Don’t forget those Craig. Mommy won’t. She loves you so much. She’s so pleased with all you’ve learned and at the young man you’re growing into. She was so glad when you started playing soccer because she knew how much fun you had running up and down that field. And she took so many pictures. She loves you.

Er-bear, honey. You were Mama’s baby for so long. She remembers all the time you spent together and all the times you held her hand and helped her with stuff she had to do. I’m scared you won’t remember her very much by the time you get older, but we will help you. She won’t ever forget you. And she knows how much you loved Baby Peter too. All the hugs you gave her and all the times you kissed her belly because you wanted to kiss the Baby. She loves you lots, right? You know that.

Nana and Grandad? All I can say is I’m sorry. I wish this wasn’t happening and that I could wave my hand and this would all go away. Everyone always says no parent should have to bury their child. But Mommy loved you so so so so much. She told me about memories she had from when she was little. She always loved seeing you and talking on the phone with you.

All our other family members who are here, the only thing I can do is repeat Mama’s theme of love. You were all so important to her and she loved having you as part of her life. In some cases she was the reason that the rest of us stayed in touch with you. Don’t think that just because she’s gone we’ll stop staying in touch. It won’t happen.

To all of Mommy’s friends and colleagues, all the clergy, and everyone else who knew her, she loved you too. I want to thank you for being here. I wish I could tell all of you individually how much you meant to her, but I’d be standing here for years if I tried to do that. Just know that she won’t ever forget you, and that we’ve got about the greatest prayer warrior EVER up there now.

I want to talk for a minute about Baby Peter, because we’re remembering him here today too. He was such a little blessing that got to be a part of our lives for a short while. The last time Mama went to the doctor he was one pound and seven ounces of pure, perfect baby. I’m so glad Fr. Augustine was able to baptize him, and that Father Pete and Father Reagan were able to be in that hospital room with my dad. We have Baby Peter’s little hand and footprints, and even a picture of him. You may have seen them already. I don’t mean to seem political here at all, but it made me wonder how anyone in the world can say that children inside the womb are not alive. Peter still had 14 weeks to go before he would have been born, but it was almost possible to save him even now. Anyone that says Peter wasn’t a real child or that any other child at 26 weeks in the womb isn’t really alive….. I just can’t even wrap my mind around how you’d convince yourself of that. I can’t wait till the day when I get to meet my mother and baby Peter together. But I know till then he’s up in heaven praying for us just as much as Mama is.

You know, when anyone close to you dies, the family and friends always talk about and discuss how kind, how good, how loving that person was. A lot of times they will say, “Ah, so and so was such a Saint”. And I don’t mean to be speaking out of turn here at all, but most of the time, that sentence is more than a little exaggerated. In my mother’s case, it wasn’t. I know Mama is a Saint. That’s just who she was. Mama could have gone anywhere with her skills and her training. You know she was in Good Housekeeping years and years ago as one of the most promising young women in America? She was a double major in German and English, and she worked for the German American Chamber of Commerce in New York City for a while. She could have gone far in her career. She decided to go far in a totally different way. She had all of us children, and stayed home with us, until a great friend asked her if she’d be willing to work for him. And even then she was serving in a completely different capacity than she would have if she’d wanted to become big and “further herself” in the career she’d thought of when she was younger. I don’t think she ever imagined how big an impact she had by being a wife, mother, and friend to us all.

I will tell you that my mother was one of my best friends. She knew more about me than anyone else did. I’ll always cherish the past two years when she’s driven me to school almost every morning. And the times when she’d drop everything to talk to me, when we’d get hot chocolate at Panera and then just sit in a parking lot somewhere and talk. About everything. I’ll remember the times we were goofballs making dinner and listening to music, when we’d start dancing in the kitchen. I’ll never ever ever forget all the love I have for my mother, and all the love she had for us.

I could talk all day about Mama, but I have to stop at some point. I want to end with just a few more notes. Mama’s favorite bible verse of all time was Jeremiah 29:11. It says, “For I know the plans I have for you, says the LORD, plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you hope, and a future.” God does have some plan for all of us in the midst of this. We can’t doubt that. And one of the Beatitudes is “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” I guess Mama was just so pure in heart that God couldn’t wait to see her. But we will again, someday. Don’t worry.

Somewhere in a book I’ve read recently, there were two characters who kept being separated. I think it was because of war; I can’t really remember. But they never said goodbye. They always said, “Until we meet again” Because of the strange and sudden way that Mama died, most of us never got to say goodbye to her. So I, like the characters in that book, don’t want to say goodbye. I want to say, “Until we meet again”.

And I love you, Mama. Higher than the sky, and deeper than the ocean. For forever.

- Hope Feist, JUNE 24, 2009

"Cast yourself, all of yourself, with confidence into God and he will sustain you, heal you and make you safe."

I found this section of teaching of St. Albert the Great today, who is the Patron of our new Parish in Halls. I was trying to think about how to preach a homily for tonight on the Trinity. How do you preach effectively on a Mystery? I wish I could offer this to my parish, but in 7 minutes.... I think I'll try something a little less daunting. Still, I can't just leave it be and so I deposit it here with you, in the netherworld of my blog... Hope you get something out of it as I sure did!!!!

"The image of God as found in the soul consists of these three faculties, namely intellect, memory and will, and so long as they are not completely stamped with God, the soul is not yet deiform in accordance with the initial creation of the soul. For the true pattern of the soul is God, with whom it must be imprinted, like wax with a seal, and carry the mark of his impress. But this can never be complete until the intellect is perfectly illuminated, according to its capacity, with the knowledge of God, who is perfect truth, until the will is perfectly focused on the love of the perfect good, and until the memory is fully absorbed in turning to and enjoying eternal happiness, and in gladly and contentedly resting in it. And since the glory of the beatitude which is achieved in our heavenly homeland consists in the complete fulfilment of these three faculties, it follows that perfect initiation of them is perfection in this life....

Above all therefore it is necessary that things heard, seen, done and said, and other such things, must be received without adding things from the imagination, without mental associations and without emotional involvement, and one should not let past or future associations, implications or constructs of the imagination form and grow. For when constructs of the imagination are not allowed to enter the memory and mind one is not hindered.... So commit yourself confidently and without hesitation, all that you are, and everything else, individually and in general, to the unfailing and totally reliable providence of God, in silence and in peace, and he will work for you. He will liberate you and comfort you more fully, more effectively and more satisfactorily than if you were to dream about it all the time, day and night, and were to cast around frantically all over the place with the futile and confused thoughts of your mind in bondage, nor will you wear out your mind and body, wasting your time, and stupidly and pointlessly exhausting your strength....

For this to come about you must repeatedly retreat into your heart and remain there, keeping yourself free from everything, so far as is possible. You must always keep the eye of your mind clear and still. You must guard your understanding from daydreams and thoughts of earthly things. You must completely free the inclination of your will from worldly cares and cling with all your being to the supreme true good with fervent love. You must keep your memory always lifted up and firmly anchored in that same true supreme good and only uncreated reality. In just this way your whole mind gathered up with all its powers and faculties in God, may become one spirit with him, in whom the supreme perfection of life is known to consist....

So why do you still remain in yourself where you cannot stay? Cast yourself, all of yourself, with confidence into God and he will sustain you, heal you and make you safe. If you dwell on these things faithfully within, they will do more to confer a happy life on you than all riches, pleasures and honours, and above all the wisdom and knowledge of this present deceitful world and its life, even if you were to surpass in these matters all who ever lived." - St. Albert the Great 1206-1280 A.D.

There was a bishop, priest, a deacon, and a campus minister....

Many fans from Catholic made the trip down to the State Championship play-off games as well as our final game that we lost. As I drove home, I reflected on what transpired after that tough loss. Coach Sullivan gathered everyone together just beyond first base where they all knelt down to pray. Coach Sullivan is not Catholic, as many of you know, but he is surely a man of God. His relationship with all of his players and coaches is constantly centered on Christ. Everything Coach Sully does is pretty much ministry in the school, whether he's in the classroom, mowing grass, or coaching the Irish to yet another victory. We have one of the best looking baseball fields in Knox County, and even this is a testament to Coach Sullivan's understanding of stewardship in Christ Jesus. While I didn't hear everything he prayed, I heard enough. He asked the guys to use the bellyache in their guts to learn more about their relationship with Christ. He asked them to thank God for that bellyache and then to help the players learn from an awesome season. He spoke powerful words of encouragement to the departing seniors, most of whom had big tears rolling down their cheeks.

We were probably passing the Cookeville Exit when it hit me. Here was the Catholic Baseball team, having been lead to the State Championship game by a committed and serious Christian man who is not of our faith. Who was comforting them in their loss and time of sorrow? Their coach, a bishop, a priest, a deacon, and their campus minister, Mark Balog. Up in the stands was one of our two Dominicans, Sister Anna. Right after Coach Sully finished the prayer that he led, Bishop Stika offered a blessing to the whole team right there down the 1st base line. Those young men were surrounded by the Catholic faith with the fullness of orders being present. Catholic High is a beautiful collision of faiths. The fact that Fr. Michael Woods drove over there along with our own Apostle of Jesus Christ, Bishop Stika, is amazing. I am so thankful to be a small part of the family that is Knoxville Catholic High School, and that our daughter Sophie will be a freshman this Fall. It is with great excitement and delight that we send our daughter to Catholic High. May God continue to bless our school in every facet of what we endeavor! And to the 2009 baseball team, you brought us farther than we've ever been, just one game shy of winning it all, we thank you for all that practice, hard work, your academics, and your Irish fight. You can all hang your heads high when thinking about that achievement. And to the seniors, you've given your team-mates something that many thought impossible; thank you for your leadership on and off the field, and may God continue to bless you as you head into the next chapter of your lives. - dpat :)

Senior Night at Baseball.... perfect night all around!

Motorcycle Terminology from Thursday's Homily

Tail Gunner: best rider always goes last, this way more inexperienced riders can set their own pace rather than trying to catch up
Slinky: someone who constantly varies their speed, inconsistent and dangerous to all, wanders the lane, enters corners wrong...
Yard Shark: dog off a leash
Road Gator: retread with steel belts in the road
Mad Max: holding front brake while spinning the rear wheel creating smoke and spinning in circles
Horizontal Parking: crashing so the bike ends up horizontal to the ground
Superslab: the interstate system- direct wayh from point a to b but boring!
Twisties: two laner with a bunch of curves
Sweeper: a long fast curve on a "twisty."
Waxer: someone who spends more time waxing and washing than riding (poser).

A few weeks later... after we have returned from the Holy Land

We just went through the Easter Triduum and something interesting happend for me during the four liturgies that I participated in. Starting on Holy Thursday, the scriptures were opened to me in a new way. Places like Bethphage, Gabbatha, and Mt. Calvary were all places I have actually been, as opposed to geographic expressions which I simply lumped into the “Middle East.” When the gospel speaks of the Mount of Olives, the Garden of Gethsemane, and the Temple, I understand these places as concepts as they relate to other places in Jerusalem. The combination of my very much alive faith before seeing these things, combined with having actually walked the ground, is much greater than I could have imagined. As I read the scriptures, I’m looking up place names on maps, seeing where they are, and then from experience, extrapolating whether it’s a desert area or a fertile one. I’m gauging its distance from Jerusalem, and trying to imagine how much time has passed in the three year ministry so far and how much longer it will be to when the paschal mystery unfolds. To say that my faith has been enriched is an understatement. I have been given a great gift and one that will increase my own pneuma for the rest of my earthly life.

The Church Fathers often spoke in terms of the “8th day,” or the time when we can access God through the liturgy and private prayer, and surpass space and time. I found a lot of 8th day time on the ground in the Holy Land, but I also found it easier to access that day in the masses since my return. The gospel tells us that when the apostles walked with the risen Lord on the road to Ammeus, that they didn’t recognize Him, until the breaking of the bread. We have been, are, and will always be a Eucharistic people, working out our understanding of Christ in the context of the liturgy where all mystery lives on this planet. From the entrance hymn till the deacon’s dismissal, “Go in peace, to love and serve the Lord” is our call to be the hands and feet of Christ each day. It falls to us to pray for the our Church, the world, for those in need, and for ourselves that we may be deemed worthy of all that Christ promises. My short visit to the Holy Land was full and enriched by all those who I walked with, each of us on a pilgrimage to discover deeper meaning in our lives. I believe that we were all successful in that enterprise and that our shared experiences will bless all those we come into contact with.

Jesus was a real person. He walked the earth, he taught with the wisdom of God, He was obedient to His Father in heaven and in fact, perfected all humanity through his perfect ministry. He offered himself as a holy and living sacrifice for you and for me. All those since Adam now have the possibility of salvation because of His gift of his life, given for us. He awaits us in heaven with all the angels and saints and beckons us all to come to Him, to emulate his obedience, to help others on our way, and to establish an eternal friendship with Him so that at the end of time, we can live in the fullness of His presence. So let’s all make these 50 days to Pentecost really worth all the suffering we went through in Lent. The violet is gone, gold and white are our colors as we wait for red to come again and fill us with the Holy Spirit. He is risen from the dead, Halleuiah! Let’s act like we believe that for the next seven weeks.

Day 10: Mount of Beatitudes, Sea of Galilee, Jordan River

This morning I awoke early, even before the wake up call came. Knowing that this was our last full day in the Northern region, I wanted to waste not one minute of the day. I showered and meant to walk the grounds a bit before breakfast at 7am. I walked up the stairs and saw out the window, the sunrise on the Sea of Galilee and that was it. I ran outside, navigated through the walkways, and made my way to a place where I had an unobstructed view of the water and the sun coming up over it. I’m not sure if it’s seasonal or what, but there seems to always be heavy haze over the Sea. This always helps when shooting sunsets as it magnifies the light and enlarges the sun. I spent a fair amount of time shooting both stills and video and then when the good light was gone, I headed back up the hill to eat.

After an outdoor 8am Mass, our first stop today was a walk on the Mount of Beatitudes. We walked on a dirt path all the way down to the main road. We stopped at one point and Fr. Charlie and I climbed up the mountain to where there were a couple trees and an ancient cave. From there, Fr. Charlie addressed our group who were well below us on the hillside. It was self evident that Jesus could have taught 5,000 people from that place. The acoustics were very good, especially with a favorable wind, which we did not have today. Once you remove auto/bus traffic, pull the planes out of the sky, you’d be left with our Lord preaching in the draw of a shallow valley, that would be protected from strong winds. Fr. Charlie read from the Gospel according to Mathew, where Jesus proclaims to all the people that they are the light of the world.

We left there and visited an early Jewish settlement called Tabgha which is where Jesus fed the 5,000. It is the site of a serious archeological dig where they are uncovering artifacts that span multiple millenia. There we were able to see the impact of the the Greeks (Hellenism) as well as the constancy of the faith of the Jews throughout each time period, evidenced by many frescos showing the various influences in the region.

We next took a boat ride on the Sea of Galilee, which was really great. The pilot even showed us how you throw the net to catch fish but he came up empty twice, so I guess we showed little faith... It was nice to be out on the water, and know that we were looking out in all directions at scenery that would have been familiar to the apostles that he had taken under his wing to that point. I read the gospel account of Jesus calming the storm and with Peter walking briefly on the water himself, until he took his eyes off the Lord. Good lesson for us all. After the boat ride most of us enjoyed eating a lunch of “St. Peter’s Fish,” a type of Talapia that is found in the Sea of Galilee. I chickened out and had “St. Mathew’s Chicken” instead. I’ve never been a fish guy, and with the head and eyes staring at everyone as they picked through the bones, I didn’t feel like trying something new today.

Our next stop was to visit the town of Capernaum which is where Peter’s mother’s house is located. In the usual fashion, they built a super nice modern Church over the site, but they suspended it on huge legs so as not to cover the ruins of Peter’s home. You could look down into what was once a house, surrounded by a large stone wall. The center of the Church above has a glass floor so you can look straight down into the 1st century dwelling even while attending the parish Mass. Very cool! Just a few steps away from Peter’s house, there is an enormous synagogue there that is really impressive. It has massive columns still standing and the surrounding stones show etchings of the Temple in Jerusalem, the star of David (6 points) as well as the cross of xxxx (6 points). The site has been fairly well preserved and you can really see the streets winding their way through the many small dwellings that made up the sort of blue collar town of Capurnaum. At one point, our guilde Samil, showed us a set of steep stairs going up and stopping about five feet in the air. He described that this may have been the house in which the man’s friends cut a hole in the thatched roof so as to lower him down to be healed by Jesus.

We last traveled to a large city on the Mediteranian Sea where we got off the bus and got to walk on the beach. Behind the beach was this massive aqueduct still standing, from the time of ancient Rome. It's in amazingly good shape for its age. One of the pilgrims offered to take a photo of me in front of it. It's always the last day of a trip when I realize that I have no photos of myself, so I'm glad to have this one!

Day 9: Galilee, Cana, and Nazareth

Once again we put some miles on our bus today, traveling in the Northern region of Israel. My personal favorite was Cana, where there is a special Church the Franciscans built to commemorate Jesus’ first miracle at the wedding in Cana. The artwork in these many Holy Land churches are often exquisite, and the Cana Church was no exception. But the highlight for me was no so much the building or even it’s location. Fr. Charlie invited all the married couples to renew their vows to each other, so after I read the gospel, Fr. Charlie asked them all to come up on the altar and hold hands facing him. then he preached for a short time on the sacrament, and how it’s unique among all the sacraments as it’s the only one where the people themselves are the ministers in the exchange of their vows. Deacons and priests simply “witness” the sacrament of marriage and represent the Church in doing so. The part that was cool for me, was that I could see all the faces of the couples, with their eyes locked onto each other. I saw the deep and profound love in each set of eyes, and the happiness that I saw made me miss my Ellie pretty badly. Before beginning the simple service, I quietly placed my wedding band on the altar of sacrifice in the Church. I said a prayer of thanksgiving to God for Ellie and our children, Sophie and Patrick, and asked God for more of the same that we’ve been receiving all these years: more blessing, faith, and protection.

My diaconal ministry flows out from within the context of our marriage together. It is a mystery as to how that works, but it does, but only because I have a wife filled with love, understanding and great patience. Many of us newly ordained Deacons would often remark during our formation time, that all we needed to do was to be more like our wives and everything else would fall into place. This is still true for us. Ellie is the better part of me; she does naturally what is so difficult for me to learn, which is to serve others like she breathes, without thought or sense of sacrifice. I am still learning this attribute and while I’ve made some progress, I have a long ways to go to catch up to most of our wives. September of 2010 will be our 20th anniversary so I need to start thinking about what we might do to mark that occasion.

I fear that I am suffering from a mild case of holy numbness as I feel almost robotic getting on and off the bus each day, walking among the ruins, and eating in large groups. Tomorrow I must make time for prayer as we are staying on the Mount of Beatitudes where Jesus fed the 5,000 and taught “the writings.” I will once again be preaching at Mass tomorrow... on the same mountain where Jesus, the Lord fed 5,000 and offered us the Beatitudes for the first time. Once again, it sounds silly to even write that. Who am I that I could offer anything of value to the faithful pilgrims? How crazy is it that we are all here, basking in the liturgy, history, art, theology, and trying to pry our hearts open a little more each day. I know I sound like a broken record, but it’s all gift.

The only relief I can receive is when I turn to Him and say “thank you” for these many opportunities to find touchstones, moments, and signs of Jesus’ love and mercy of each of us on the planet. At the center of that thank you is the Eucharist itself. And so we approach the Lord’s table and say Amen, I believe. An so, like the man who approached the Lord with his sick son, we also say, “help me in my unbelief.” Tonight, the Matt Maher song I’m listening to is Alive in You:

“It is You I seek in the night, waiting patiently to satisfy.
Not for human gain or worldly desires, but to lose myself in You forever.

You see through the veil into our hearts, the deepest place that no one else knows.
Not for human gain or worldly desires, but to die with you and rise forever.

You blood runs in my veins, my heart burns with your grace.
I’m alive in You as You live in me, I’m alive in You, Hope of glory.”

Goodnight, my Ellie. I long to be in your arms once again, and to do our “group hug” with the kids in the kitchen or aisle 7 at Kroger. dpat :)

Day 8: Jericho, Mount of the Beatitudes

Today was a little different as we spent much of our day working our way North towards Tiberius. We stopped in the morning in the oldest continually habitable city on earth: Jericho. We find Jericho in both the Old and New Testaments. It is an area controlled by the Palastinian Authority. The entire region is marketly more poor with many empty buildings and homes. The Bedouin are more prevalent and can be seen even along the highways, travling with children and camels. This is sort of the Florida and Cali of this area so the fruits are wonderful. I bought an entire carton of strawberries today and shared them with the bus. It was just $2. The highlight of our time spent in Jericho was definitely attending Sunday Mass with a local parish who welcomed us with open arms and gladly accepted all of the schools supplies we brought for their school. I’ve now assisted at Mass in French, Creole, Italian, Spanish, Latin, and now in Arabic!!! I got a little flustered at the point when I was supposed to dismiss the people and rather than sending them off in English or Arabic, I did it in Latin, “Ite missa est.” Luckily Fr. Charlie and the presiding priest for Jordan saw the humor in this. Yep, Fr. Chris, I can even screw up the liturgy when it’s in Arabic... Anyways, we spent a good time visiting with the people and then many of them joined us for a wonderful lunch of lamb, chicken, cole slaw, and pomme frittes at a great outdoor restaurant. As we made conversation, the mosque in the background began to broadcast prayers in Arabic through their huge array of loudspeakers... it was sort of surreal.

After lunch, we boarded the bus again and drove further North, along the West side of the Sea of Galilee to the Mount Tabor, where Christ is believed to have been transfigured along with Moses and Elijah. There is a sweet Franciscan church on the top of Mount Tabor that is built on the ruins of a much older Byzantine Church (same story, different day). I found some time to spend alone in prayer while looking down into the valley far below, asking God to aid in my own transfiguration someday. My prayer is more peaceful in these places but I think that has much to do with the fact that my iPhone doesn’t work here and that I’m able to just concentrate on the simple plan of thanksgiving for this gift or being present in the Holy Land.

We are now staying at a retreat center for pilgrims on the Sea of Galilee. Words can’t describe how absolutely beautiful it is here. A constant breeze, mid-60’s, bright sun all day long, blue skies, and still the arid climate.

Each evening before I go to bed I listen to Matt Maher’s Overflow CD which he must have made after his own trip to the Holy Land. The last thing I listen to each night is the cut, “The Rivers of Babylon.” Usually about four times does it. I know that this song will always bring be back to Jerusalem in my own anamnesis. Songs do that for me. here is a taste of the lyrics of my current favorite:

“By the rivers of Babylon, I sat and wept as I remembered Zion,
And all the things that rule my heart, I said sing a song for us now,
How could I sing for anyone but You?

By the rivers of the street, I could almost feel the spirit grown in me,
I was deaf, dumb and blind, choking on the dreams of humankind,
How could I dream of anything but You?

So, for glory’s sake, do not forget me, I still believe in the midst of my frailty,
I still believe that I’m dying to my humanity.

By the rivers of the world, we all got drunk on ourselves
in the morning the Son will rise and despite all our sin, save our lives,
How could You die for anyone but you?”

- Matt Maher, “Overflow”

Day 7: The Wailing Wall

It was a weird day. The wailing wall was nothing like I expected it to be in terms of how it looked as you approached it. It’s basically the original foundation of the Temple built by Herod the Great. This same Temple was smashed in 70 A.D. by the Roman Army who sought to put down the Jewish revolt. Sadly, because it is the Sabbath, no photography was allowed in the Wailing wall area and I obeyed their directive out of respect. I had prepared a few scrolls to place in the Wall, one for my family (all of them), one for my parish, and one for the high school. I did one other for a few people I know that are opening themselves up to the idea of the priesthood, diaconate, religious life, and for one other that is struggling with a 3rd order vocation. The last one was for people in great need like my friends in Haiti, for my friend Stan who is in prison, and for the many people that I know that are looking for work and are having financial difficulties.

As you approach the Wall, you must have your head covered. As you walk closer to it, down a long ramp, you pass through hundreds of orthodox Jews who pray out loud and read from scrolls and books containing the Torah. As you get closer, you start to notice the small pieces of paper, thousands and thousands of them, all containing serious petitions from all those who worship the one God of Israel. My first job was to find places to smash my notes in with the rest and this took some time. Afterwards, I did what I saw the others doing and I laid my forehead on the wall and began to pray. As you’d suspect, I prayed for my family first, then in thanksgiving for this opportunity to pray here in this most sacred place where Simeon and Anna greeted Jesus as a baby at His presentation, where He taught the scriptures as a young man, where he drove out the vendors from selling, and where I found myself weeping all of a sudden. There was a massive, deep blue sky overhead with strong winds pushing white clouds by very fast. The air was cold with a strong wind which made my tears cold on my cheeks. I saw no reason to dry them as I began to understand the purpose of praying here. My prayers turned to those in need that I know and strangely to my ancestors and to my children’s grandkids and so on. When you are faced with a place that seem to know so much time, it seemed natural to pray for all of my family, living, dead, and those who are not among us yet. Spending time in Jerusalem, you begin to appreciate how temporary your situation is. It’s easier to see yourself as taking a few breaths and then laying down to sleep in the Lord all in the context of the passage of time. I think I will have gained patience and perspective to some degree on this pilgrimage, which will be good news to my wife and kids.

Fr. Charlie asked me to preach at Mass today. I spoke mainly about how important it is for us not to have traveled all this way and not continue that journey on the inside. Going to the holy land won’t make you holy any more than putting your car in the garage makes it a garage. So I’ve been trying to find moments to pray on the bus, in the morning, even while eating. Letting silence lead me to that place that the Church Fathers called the 8th day. It is good to pray on the Sabbath. It is good that no cars can operate in the Jewish Quarter right now. It is good to see all the shops closed. It’s a lesson that Walmart could learn from, and that Chik-fil-A already knows. Tonight is our last night in Jerusalem. The bells are ringing out 4:30 p.m. as I type this. The Sabbath will be over at sundown, so I plan to make my way through the narrow streets of the Old City one more time, to walk the Stations again, and settle into silent prayer, quit talking and listen to what God wants to teach me this night. Tomorrow we head to Jericho and into more new discoveries of very ancient truths of God. Shalom...

Day 6: The Desert and the Dead Sea

Today was a welcome change to the hustle and bustle of the Old City. Today, we travelled more distance than any day since we’ve arrived here. Today we went out into the Desert. We first visited Masada, King Herod’s impenetrable fortress hewn out of solid rock overlooking the Dead Sea. The have a cable car that can take about 50 people up at a time so up and down was easy compared to the old days. 930 Jewish lives were lost in a massive siege that ended in suicide for all inside the fortress. As the Roman Army worked for two years to gain access to Masada, they finally had it within reach when everyone inside decided they would rather die than be enslaved by the Romans in 70 A.D. The temp shot up to the mid-80’s today and since we visited no churches today, many wore shorts.

After Masada, we made our way to lunch with the Essenes at Qumran, the ancient center of the sect John the Baptist was believed to be a part of. This is also the site back in 1948 where a shepherd boy discovered the Dead Sea Scrolls while looking for a lost sheep. We got to within 50 yards of the actual cave where they were discovered. This is something that I’d read about in the past and was fascinating to walk through the recreated settlement, thanks to the work of Josephus and a bunch of smart archeologists.

Next, we went to the beach where many of us swam in the Dead Sea, which has about 27% salt content, hence nothing can live in it. The mud is very good for the skin so some of us went for a swim and enjoyed the gooey stuff, smearing it all over. I did not partake as the sun was very high and my Irish/German skin would toast for sure. Instead I sat in the sun and marveled at what lay in front of me. First, it was beautiful. Blue sky meeting haze, and finally resting on the mountains of Jordan, just across the sea. More immediately was the beach scene in front of me. From my spot in the shade under the lifeguard’s shack, I watched people speaking ten languages have fun together. Old men hauled their 4’ tall water pipes down to the beach to smoke with friends, watching their grandchildren play. While there were many languages spoken, everyone seems to know soccer. I counted five informal games and maybe ten more balls in play between a few friends. I watched Muslim women dressed in black from head to toe, holding the shower chains for European women in bikinis trying to wash the mud off their bodies. It was a sea of humanity present as I saw people from Germany, Scotland, America, Canada, Jordan, Jerusalem, etc... There were Christians swimming with Muslims, with everyone enjoying rice with saffron and the wonderful smells of meat cooking over fires. Some boys beat out the rhythm of songs they knew on an empty gallon can and an antifreeze bottle, creating a dancing frenzy. While all entered the water in varying skin colors, they emerged black from head to toe, causing you to wonder who they were and where they were from until they got into the out-door showers. The black mud brought everyone together in a way that I know made God smile today. I will never forget that scene as it played out in front of me. It was as if God was saying to me, look, these are all my children; I care of each one of them the same.

On the way back to Jerusalem, we stopped at an old section of an original Roman road that went from Jericho to Jerusalem, the same road on which the Samaritan outcast rescued the man from the scriptures. We stopped, got off the bus, and climbed a massive incline to a small mountaintop outdoor theater where Fr. Charlie offered Mass. The winds were so strong up there at times I could not hear what he was saying and I was standing right next to him and downwind! Fr. Charlie is a big guy, and twice the wind pushed him so hard he lost his footing. We were joined at our impromptu Mass by a camel, a donkey, two boys about 2 and seven, and three men trying to sell us jewelry and offer camel rides. It was something to see!

The only other thing of significance to report is that I absolutely love pita bread. When it is fresh, I’d rather eat it than what I’m used to. It’s delicious with every meal, especially with olive oil, salt, and pepper. Hmmmmml... good!

Day 5, Jerusalem: Mt. Cavalry and more!

Day 5

Today started out scary for me. First, we got wake up calls at 4:30am (as if that wasn’t scary enough) so that we could celebrate Mass together at the Church of the Holy Seplachure. Thing of it was, I was to preach the homily. So picture walking in the pre-dawn hours through the Old City of Jerusalem to a huge stone church. Upon entry, we walked up a flight of very steep stairs to the site of Mount Cavalry where there is a Roman Catholic altar set just a few feet to the right of the massive stones on which Christ’s blood was poured out. There is no singing of any kind allowed at this particular altar, ever. Seriously, I was way out of my element and used to the more comfortable confines of our temporary parish chapel at Saint Albert the Great or the familiar Holy Trinity Chapel at KCHS. I don’t remember much of what I offered in the message but I remember talking about the scripture from Paul when he says, “to those that are given more, more is expected.” To be standing on the very site of Christ’s death was an incredible gift, similar, I think, to Thomas wanting to stick his hand in the Lord’s side. I have always accepted easily His death on a cross both historically, theologically, sacaramentally, and soteriologically. Now I have this added gift of seeing the actual place, walking the ground, being surrounded 24/7 by devoted pilgrims who all speak the same language of our common faith in Jesus Christ. So I can see things, even part of the oldest walls of Jerusalem that Jesus would have also seen. I have visited now the caves where the Holy Family came to its fullness in the birth of Jesus, in incarnate Word of God. it’s heavy stuff they’re serving up over here in the Middle East.

After we celebrated Mass, the sun slowly rose and drew light across the blue sky as we walked the traditional stations of the cross. As you walk from station to station, you have to dodge people, small narrow, diesel tractors hauling trailers filled with all manner of goods, and garbage everywhere. Some of the stations are clearly marked, as with Veronica’s wiping Jesus’ face, and where he fell the second time, others are marked only by a round steel emblem affixed to the stone walls under which we walk. We all took turns carrying His cross through these narrow steps, climbing always towards the Church of the Holy Seplachure. You should try to come here someday; the things that happen in your heart are surprising, cause great joy, and sudden sadness at times. While we were in the middle of the stations this morning, one woman began to sob, trying to conceal her grief. it was as if a wave came over all of us in that holy place... Many wiped tears away from our faces and even Fr. Charlie’s voice faltered a few times.
Once we completed the stations, we walked back to our accommodations and shared breakfast with a room full of pushy Germans who thought waiting in line was optional. I try to take these cultural differences in stride as I’ve traveled pretty extensively and know what to expect.

I took a nap after breakfast and awoke to catch our bus that took us to the Pools of Bethseda, where Jesus healed the paralytic in John 5:1-15. You sort of stand there, leaning over a steel railing and gaze down upon the ancient ruins of a Byzantine Church, a temple to a pagan God, and then you see this sign in the ground that spells out the site on which he cured a man who had suffered for 38 years. It slowly dawns on you that the scriptures are opening as a massive door, through which you’ve seen light through a crack for your whole life, sitting in the pews. The door swings open more fully as this realization comes to you in waves. You want to pray, you want to cry, you want to sing, you want to kiss the ground on which you stand... And then it’[s time to move with the group to the next spectacular thing, the Church of St. Anne where the Virgin Mary was born. It’s tough to hold it all together when you stand most of each day in front of a huge machine gun firing grace at you from all angles. I am physically weary from walking and climbing hundreds of steps as we move about, but what causes me the greatest fatigue is the work my mind and soul are doing. My horizon is shifting and changing always as I confront one scene after another. Now we descend into under the floor to visit the cave in which mary was born. I pray a quick Hail Mary, shoot a few photos and we move on to the Chapel of the Flaggelation where Jesus was whipped, tied to a pole. A few minutes later, we find ourselves descending again under ground to the actual site of the jail in which he stayed the night before he was crucified. The floor of this jail is covered with huge stones onto which horizontal grooves had been cut by Roman road crews (giving horses beter traction when wet) and mark the site called Gabbatha, where Pilot received Jesus, washed his hands of Him, and finally handed Him over to death. Like I said, it’s all heavy stuff to try to digest.

In the afternoon, we were all cut loose to do what we wanted. I went back, took a nap, and awoke in time for the good light that comes each afternoon and went out and shot for myself. I rarely do this even though I get immense satisfaction from it. I need to shoot for me more and not just for cash... I miss my family something fierce and wish I could talk to them on the phone a couple times a day. When it’s time to go home, I’ll be ready but I feel like I’m taking so much in each day here in Jerusalem.

Day 4, Bethlehem!

Today we visted Bethlehem for the first time. If it was a small backwater town in the time of our Lord, it is still that today. It is cut off from Jerusalem by a huge electrified wall of steel and concrete fence. the fence was erected in the name of security but everyone seems to understand it was put up to keep those living in Bethlehem from the job opportunities that lay just beyond the wall in the more prosperous Jerusalem. Nabil tells us that to get through requires special papers that are difficult to get and often involves 4-6 hour waits to pass through the security gates. it was a sad thing to see as there is a great valley that separates Bethlehem from Jerusalem: the Shepherd’s Field. We celebrated Mass in a small cave that just fit the 45 of us on that site, where the Annunciation took place. Luke 2, speaks of them being visited by an angel of the Lord who said, “You have nothing to fear! I come to proclaim good news...” Again, I found reading the gospel on this site of this occurence no less than awesome. It was hard to keep track of my job as Deacon in the liturgy as my mind and heart kept running in circles around each other.

After visiting a small Christian shop in Bethlehem, we went next to the Church of the Nativity, devoted to where Jesus was born in a manger. The thing of it is, all I can ever remember growing up as a kid, and even now as an adult, was a sort of barn looking wood structure filled with animals and hay. It turns out that they were actually in a cave. The main opening area of the cave would have been for dwelling and cooking with plenty of access to light from outside and fresh air. This was also the area in which an Inn would have been placed for those needing shelter as they travelled. The more interior of the cave was for livestock. When Mary and Joseph arrived in Bethlehem to report for the census, there was no room at the Inn, which is why they proceeded to the rear of the cave where the animals would have been kept. We all got to actually visit and touch the place of his birth, which is in a deep cave, hidden about 30’ below the main altar in the Church of the Nativity. Let me tell you that standing in this most holy of places really gets you. You come to realize how special a place this really is, set apart from all modernity, only being lit by candles. it took my breath away and made my mind do somersaults with my heart in tow. Think of it. It’s simply amazing to be a witness to that which I’d required faith to believe before our visit. We sang Silent Night with Fr. Charlie leading us. The Germans and others who were also there joined in. I can remember just three years ago, visiting the little church in Germany where that song was written, and how special it was to sing it there. And now to be singing Slient Night while staring at the back of the cave where the Holy Family came to be that night so long ago. Whew...

Under the Catholic side of the Church in their caves, we found small areas with altars set aside to honor St. Jerome who brought us the Vulgate Bible as well as the “Holy Innocents” that were killed when XXX was trying to execute all children up to two years old in an attempt to kill Jesus, thiniking that this would once and for all quash the Christian “cult.” In staring down into that cave, my heart was heavy for all children who have died through the violence of many wars and by all un-natural means.

Our last stop today was the visit the birthplace of John the Baptist as well as the site of the Visitation. Luke 1: 39 says Mary set out in haste for the hill country... and greeted Elizabeth.” They weren’t kidding! It was a mighty hill even though we only walked up the last 1/4 mile of the journey. While it was steep, it was worth the wait. The Franciscans are marvelous caretakers of all of these holy sites in Jerusalem and Bethlehem. We found the site where there is still a well where John the Baptist was born, and then the Church of the Visitation which commemorates Mary’s meeting with Elizabeth to annoucne the good news. We prayed the Magnificat together in the place where Elizabeth’s words were first spoken. “My sould proclaims the greatness of the Lord...”

Day 3, Jerusalem!

We met with the Patriarch walking distance from the Franciscan “Casa Nova” where we are staying. He was very nice and spoke to us at length about the difficulties for the Christians living in the Holy Land. He then offered his prayers of us and Benediction. Our next stop was the Mount of Olives. Yes, “that,” Mount of Olives. We walked alongside a 1st century Christian cememtery and reflected on the four tears Christ shed for Jerusalem’s ultimate rejection of him as Messiah and Savior. We moved from there to the Garden of Gethsemane. Again, yeah, “that one.” It’s so totally radical to be speaking of these places not in abstract terms from the daily readingsm, but from the horizon of standing amid the olive trees some 2,000 years old. The Mount of Olives was a seminal moment for me as it was the first place we went in which I knew Jesus walked. Yes, “THE,” Jesus.
As powerful and full as my faith is, it may come as a shock to many of you that this has been a shock to me. I got on a plane three days ago with every intention of deepening my faith by putting my own eyes on these holy places and walking the ground itself. But it seems unreal to me even now to have done it. And even though I have now been to the Mount of Olives and to the actual Garden of Gethsemane, I still find it hard to get my mind around how to cope with this information. It’s not so much the historical significance our guide Samil is offering us, but rather what to do with my heart and the way it turns inside me as we discover Christ around every corner.

Inside the Church that is on that site it is very dark, on purpose. Most of the stained glass is violet in color, matching up very nicely with our current Lenten season. In the center of the sanctuary and at the foot of the altar is a huge piece of rock whicvh has been revered for centuries by millions of pilgrims as being from the garden where Christ wept, crippled with fear about hsi own death, all while his disciples slept through the night. Standing up to read the gospel from that votive Mass was difficult for me, reading once again the account of Jesus, abandoned in the garden by his supposed friends.

The image I most remember from today is the huge olive tree trunks in the Garden which is all fenced in now. They are massive and black and have been gnarled through 8,000 seasons and their 5’ round stumps show massive scars and evidence of damage through the centuries. But from some of the holes where great boughs once hung are now new growth branches, sprouting from deep within each stump. We are those new growth branches, seeking the light of Christ and to be fed by our Father in Heaven, with the help of the Holy Spirit. Each of us are part of yet another generation of disciples, trying to learn the Lord, trying to include Him in all we do each day, trying to make something real burn in our hearts from the old trunks of Tradition and the Holy Scriptures. It is good to be here in this place.

pilgrimage to the Holy Land, Day 1/2

Following delay on delay we have finally made it to our hotel in the old city of Jerusalem. We left Knoxville by bus from the Chancery at 10:30a on Sunday. It is now Tuesday morningat 6:30am and 12:30am back in Knoxville. glad to be here! We will have time for a shower and breakfast before heading out this morning... thanks be to God to have finally arrived at our destination almost one full day late.

I've been thinking a lot about where we've come from today and how far we have travelled to finally be in this ancient city of Christ. But no matter how far each of us has come and what kinds of financial hoops we have had to jump through to make it possible, there are three journeys that we've all embarked on. the first is to jerusalem, the second, we've gone on a journey away from our homes and all that is familiar, and last is most important: the journey into our hearts. Certainly Christ is everywhere but we will be constantly surrounded by reminders in the coming days of his physical presence, ministry, teaching, torture, death, and resurrection. It's too real to actually be here where He walked. Where He died. Where He rose to His heavenly Father, and where he awaits us to join Him in paradise. something to think about...

dpat

We have a Bishop!!!!

In the earliest Church, the bishop consecrated gifts on the altar of sacrifice and the deacons distributed the Body of Christ to the Faithful. In keeping with that tradition, one ciborium was purchased for each parish in the Diocese so that all of the leftover hosts from yesterday's Mass of Episcopal Ordination could be shared with all of the faithful of our Diocese, through my brother deacons carrying it back to each parish. Today, I will pick up the ciborium for my parish, Saint Albert the Great, but on my way from Sacred Heart, I will stop at the Holy Trinity Chapel at KCHS and mix in some of the consecrated Body of Christ from the Mass yesterday. In this way, our school will also share in the one table of the Lord from yesterday. May we recognize that we are part of one holy catholic and apostolic Church, and that our Shepherd has returned to us in the person of Bishop Richard F. Stika. As you come to Mass in our chapel throughout next week, realize you might be receiving a host consecrated by our new bishop in his Mass of Ordination. If you do, it's no different than what was already in our tabernacle...

because it's ALL AWESOME and ALL JESUS!!!

May this old practice give you newness of faith today.

Please pray for me as I travel on my first pilgrimage to the Holy Land for the next eleven days.

Vivat Jesus, dpat :)

Bishop Stika speaks to young people

What the Heck is Lent, Anyway?

MESSAGE OF HIS HOLINESS
JOHN PAUL II
FOR LENT 2003

Dear Brothers and Sisters!

1. Lent is a season of intense prayer, fasting and concern for those in need. It offers all Christians an opportunity to prepare for Easter by serious discernment about their lives, with particular attention to the word of God which enlightens the daily journey of all who believe.

This year, as a guide for our Lenten meditation, I would offer a phrase taken from the Acts of the Apostles: «It is more blessed to give than to receive» (Acts 20:35). What we have here is not simply a moral exhortation, or a command which comes to us from without. The inclination to give is rooted in the depths of the human heart: every person is conscious of a desire to interact with others and everyone finds fulfilment in a free gift of self to others.

2. Our age, regrettably, is particularly susceptible to the temptation toward selfishness which always lurks within the human heart. In society generally, and in the media, people are bombarded by messages which more or less openly exalt the ephemeral and the hedonistic. Concern for others is certainly shown whenever natural disasters, war and other emergencies strike, but in general it is difficult to build a culture of solidarity. The spirit of the world affects our inner propensity to give ourselves unselfishly to others and drives us to satisfy our own particular interests. The desire to possess ever more is encouraged. Surely it is natural and right that people, by using their own gifts and by their own labour, should work to obtain what they need to live, but an excessive desire for possessions prevents human beings from being open to their Creator and to their brothers and sisters. The words of Paul to Timothy remain relevant in every age: «The love of money is the root of all evils; it is through this craving that some have wandered away from the faith and pierced their hearts with many pangs» (1 Tim 6:10)!

Exploitation of others, indifference towards the suffering of our brothers and sisters, and the violation of basic rules of morality are just a few fruits of the thirst for gain. Faced with the tragic situation of persistent poverty which afflicts so many people in our world, how can we fail to see that the quest for profit at any cost and the lack of effective, responsible concern for the common good have concentrated immense resources in the hands of a few while the rest of humanity suffers in poverty and neglect?

Appealing to believers and to all people of good will, I would like to reaffirm a principle which is self-evident yet often ignored: our goal should not be the benefit of a privileged few, but rather the improvement of the living conditions of all. Only on this foundation can we build that international order truly marked by justice and solidarity which is the hope of everyone.

3. «It is more blessed to give than to receive». When believers respond to the inner impulse to give themselves to others without expecting anything in return, they experience a profound interior satisfaction.

The efforts of Christians to promote justice, their commitment in defence of the powerless, their humanitarian work in providing bread for the hungry and their care for the sick by responding to every emergency and need, draw their strength from that sole and inexhaustible treasury of love which is the complete gift of Jesus to the Father. Believers are called to follow in the footsteps of Jesus Christ, true God and true man, who, in perfect obedience to the will of the Father, emptied himself (cf. Phil 2:6 ff), and humbly gave himself to us in selfless and total love, even unto death on a cross. Calvary eloquently proclaims the message of the Blessed Trinity’s love for human beings of all times and places.

Saint Augustine points out that only God, as the Supreme Good, is capable of overcoming the various forms of poverty present in our world. Mercy and love for one’s neighbour must therefore be the fruit of a living relationship with God and have God as their constant point of reference, since it is in closeness to Christ that we find our joy (cf. De Civitate Dei, X, 6; CCL 39:1351ff).

4. The Son of God loved us first, while «we were yet sinners» (Rom 5:6), with an unconditional love which asks nothing in return. If this is so, how can we fail to see the season of Lent as a providential opportunity to make courageous decisions inspired by altruism and generosity? Lent offers us the practical and effective weapons of fasting and almsgiving as a means of combating an excessive attachment to money. Giving not only from our abundance, but sacrificing something more in order to give to the needy, fosters that self-denial which is essential to authentic Christian living. Strengthened by constant prayer, the baptized reveal the priority which they have given to God in their lives.

The love of God poured into our hearts ought to inspire and transform who we are and what we do. Christians must not think that they can seek the true good of their brothers and sisters without embodying the charity of Christ. Even in those cases where they might succeed in improving important aspects of social or political life, without charity every change would remain short-lived. The possibility of giving oneself to others is itself a gift which comes from the grace of God. As Saint Paul teaches: «God is at work in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure» (Phil 2:13).

5. To modern men and women, often dissatisfied with a shallow and ephemeral existence and in search of authentic happiness and love, Christ offers his own example and issues the invitation to follow him. He asks those who hear his voice to give their lives for others. This sacrifice is a source of self-fulfilment and joy, as is seen in the eloquent example of those men and women who, leaving all security behind, have not hesitated to risk their lives as missionaries in different parts of the world. It can also be seen in the response of those young people who, prompted by faith, have embraced a vocation to the priesthood or the religious life in order to serve God’s plan of salvation. It is likewise the experience of the growing number of volunteers who readily devote themselves to helping the poor, the elderly, the sick and all those in need.

Recently, we have witnessed a praiseworthy outpouring of solidarity for the victims of floods in Europe, earthquakes in Latin America and Italy, epidemics in Africa, volcanic eruptions in the Phillippines, as well as for other areas of the world scarred by hatred, violence and war.

In these situations, the communications media play a significant role by allowing us to identify with and offer ready help to the suffering and those in distress. At times it is not the Christian command of love, but rather an innate sense of compassion which motivates our efforts to assist others. Even so, anyone who helps those in need always enjoys God’s favour. In the Acts of the Apostles we read that the disciple Tabitha was saved because she had done good to her neighbour (cf. 9:36 ff). The centurion Cornelius obtained eternal life on account of his generosity (cf. ibid., 10: 2-31).

For those who are «far-off», service to the needy can be a providential path leading to an encounter with Christ, since the Lord abundantly repays the good deeds done to one’s neighbour (cf. Mt 25:40).

It is my fervent hope that believers will find this Lent a favorable time for bearing witness to the Gospel of charity in every place, since the vocation to charity is the heart of all true evangelization. To this end I invoke the intercession of Mary, Mother of the Church and pray that she will accompany us on our Lenten journey. With these sentiments I affectionately impart to all my blessing.

From the Vatican, 7 January 2003

Noah Readings this week and Fr. Manuel's Homily

This last Tuesday, our week began at KCHS with one of our newest priests in the Diocese, Fr. Manuel, who serves our Cathedral Parish. This week the OT readings began with the story of Noah and how God called him to gather all the animals, load them into the Ark, and then the face of the earth is covered in water with storms raging. Fr. Manuel spoke well and offered the perspective that the Ark was the Church that will be saved from ultimate separation from God of the world at the end of time.

I began to reflect on the role of our school in context of the rest of the world. It's a pretty easy thing to see that Knoxville Catholic is an ARK of sorts, carrying God's Word every day and actually doing the mission of Christ with our students for the last seventy-five years. With each day beginning with morning prayer, followed by the pledge starting each period with prayer, offering the holy Mass each day, and ending each schoolday with a closing prayer, it's impossible to overlook God being called upon so often throughout each day.

The greatest expression of our faith, fidelity to one another, and our commitment to a faith-filled education experience is when we gather around the Eucharist at our All-School Masses throughout the year. It is here that we can clearly see the source and summit of our school: Jesus Christ.

This Week, we will begin the liturgical season of Lent with our celebration of Ash Wednesday. Let us all prepare ourselves for this precursor to the Easter Season by prayerfully reflecting on being contrite, teachable, and open to God's will for each of our lives. -dpat :)

March for Life 2009

The Election: Thoughtful Concern and Hope!

While the vast majority of Americans took time to watch today's inauguration live on TV, some of us chose to spend time in prayer for our country in the context of the holy Mass. So, much to my surprise I found virtually the entire religion dept. from KCHS at the All-Saints 12:10 Mass today. Once again, I wasn't the only one with a bright idea, as is so often the case.

Fr. Michael Woods was the presider to the noon faithful and started the liturgy with an a cappella "God Bless America," and off we went into the "eighth day."

As I listened to the readings and reflected on Fr. Michael's homily, two different thoughts keep coming up in my mind.

First, was my concern for the issue of abortion. Now that the votes have been cast and our 44th President has been sworn in, how do we best continue to push for the dignity of all human persons from natural birth to natural death? Now that the election is behind us, how can each of us do our part in honoring God's commitment to the human race and all issues of life? We need to write letters if we haven't before. We need to write them again even if we have in the past. We need to show up and participate in peaceful demonstrations and witness Christ Jesus to those around us not just with placards but with compassion for our fellow travelers along the way. We need to not be bashful when abortion, so-called mercy killings, euthanasia, genocide, and capital punishment come up in conversations. We need to not just vote every four years, but live each day in thoughtful pursuit of the Gospel and listen closely to that still small voice that speaks to each of our hearts, and then DO God's will for our lives. Abortion is not something we should think about only at election time. We need to, instead, broaden our horizons to all the issues of life that surround us each day. Every day is an opportunity to be Pro-Life.

The second thought was that of Hope for the African-American population of the United States and for all people of color. I thought of my upbringing in the City of Chicago. I graduated from a Chicago Public High School in 1983 in where I was a minority as 90% of the school was African-American. I recently attended my first high school reunion in which one of my classmates assembled a sort of litany of those who had passed away in the last twenty-five years. Out of a class of 220, over forty of my classmates were dead. With one exception, they were all black, and all male. Many had died in prison, from drug addiction, or on the wrong end of a knife or gun. I thought about what it must mean to the black population of our great country to have watched an African-American man place his hand on that bible and swear and oath to God Almighty and promise to lead the United States to the best of his ability. Like him or not, Barrak Obama is now Mr. President and we owe him our fervent prayers, not just on the abortion issue, but all issues facing our country.

As I walked out of Mass, I remember thinking, "America now resembles herself a little bit more now than an hour ago." God Bless America; may we never stop placing human life at the top of our priorities in the voting booth as well as on our journey towards heaven.

- Deacon Patrick Murphy-Racey

Greetings from our new Bishop!!!