Preaching for 10-29-2009

“If I am not for myself, who will be for me? And if I am for myself only, what am I? And if not now, when?”

These are the words of one of the most famous and holy Jewish men who has ever lived--Hillel the Elder. Hillel was born in Babylon around the year 110 BC. Eventually, given his desire to study the Torah, Hillel moved to Jerusalem, where he began to work as a woodcarver to earn tuition money for class. One day, he didn’t earn enough money, and so could not get into the class. Instead of going away, he climbed to the top of the building and laid down on a skylight to listen to the lesson. Well, he fell asleep, and in the night, was covered by snow. The next day, the rabbis and students noticed the room was much darker than normal, and that’s when they discovered poor Hillel asleep in the snow. From that day forward, Hillel didn’t have to pay tuition.

In time, Hillel came to belong to that wonderful group of Jewish scholars we know as the Pharisees. Now, the Pharisees usually get a bad rap in the Gospels. In today‘s Gospel reading, however, we see the Pharisees coming to Jesus’ aid, which is strange, unless you understand that there was a whole school of Pharisaic thought that was not so opposed to Jesus’ teaching.

Indeed, if you read the teachings of Hillel that have been handed down in the Mishnah and the Talmud, what you will find is that, unlike his opponent Shammai--who was very conservative--Hillel taught a “milder” and more compassionate interpretation of Jewish law that greatly resembles the teachings of Jesus.

A classic example of the similarity between Jesus and Hillel is captured in the story about a Gentile who was interested in possibly converting to Judaism. The Gentile goes to Shammai and asks him to summarize the Torah while standing on one foot, but Shammai is insulted and sends him away. The Gentile then asks Hillel to do the same thing, and Hillel raises his foot and says, “What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor: this is the whole Torah; the rest is commentary; go and learn.” This teaching Christians know as the Golden Rule.

Thus, for Hillel, as for Jesus, the whole point of Jewish law was to help people to love God and their neighbor more perfectly. Hillel illustrates the fact that the love of Torah which all the Pharisees claimed to have, was not a stumbling block to charity. For Hillel, there was nothing greater that a Jew could do than to spend his days studying the Torah, because he knew it was a way of loving God and it taught one how to love one‘s neighbor. That’s why he says, “Don’t say ‘When I have free time, I will study;’ for you may never have any free time.”

Unfortunately, since Hillel died around the year 10 AD, before Jesus began his public ministry, we can’t know what he would have made of Jesus as the Messiah. Because of this, his name is relatively unknown to Christians. This, I think, is a shame, because Hillel is a great example of how extraordinarily rich the Judaism of Jesus’ day was. His life challenges our misconceptions about the Jewish religion before Jesus, and it corrects the negative image we have of the Pharisees.

In fact, I think Hillel is a Jewish saint who can serve as a model for us all. His ardent love and respect for God’s Word, and his concern and compassion for his neighbor beautifully herald what Jesus would teach in his life, ministry, and saving death and, therefore, make him a model for any Christian. I encourage us all, then, to spend a little time researching the life of Hillel. And by learning more about this holy man, come to contemplate, in a deeper way, the life and times of Our Lord.

Br. Paul, OP

Preaching for the Feast of Ss. Jude and Simon

Readings for today: Eph 2:19-22 and Luke 6:12-16.
Getting a call to ministry from God is not as simple as it used to be. We usually don’t wake up in the night at the sound of God’s voice saying our names, or have a random prophet or priest come and anoint us with oil and name us his successor. And we certainly don’t have the pleasure of lining up in a row and having Jesus call our names out like he’s choosing his team for kick ball.

It’s true, we don’t have these kinds of stories--but God does still “call” people to ministry. For some, the call seems straight forward and readily understood, for others though, its mysterious. An inner question or longing that doesn’t seem to go away, even when life seems to be going perfectly.

For me, my calling seemed to become clearer, one day, as I was sitting in the chapel of Thomas More College for daily mass. I had just heard the Gospel story of the rich, young man. I always liked that story, because I admired the young man’s question to Jesus. He seemed to be asking, “What more can I do? I want to do more.” I eagerly waited to hear what Jesus would say to him, because it would be his answer to my own longing to do more. Jesus replied, as we know, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell everything you have, give to the poor. Then follow me.”

Amazingly, despite Jesus’ love for him, the rich young man goes away sad. He’s one of the few people in the Gospels who receives a calling from Jesus, and who refuses. I was determined not to follow his example.

I didn’t rush out, right then, to follow my vocation. I had to finish school first, and I had to figure out how exactly I would be able to follow Jesus‘ directions.

Lucky for me, I was well read in the lives of the saints. It was the life of St. Francis that helped me to realize that at the root of my calling was a desire to embrace the vowed life as a religious. Hadn’t St. Francis stood before his father and the bishop and stripped himself naked so that he could freely offer just himself to the service of God’s church? I wanted to do the same…well, almost. I figured I could keep my clothes.

Once I was able to name my desire, things began to fall into place. God even helped me to figure out that it was the Dominican Order, with its charism for seeking truth and preaching the Gospel, that was the community that would potentially work for me.

I say potentially for a reason. Vocations always have an element of mystery and ambiguity to them. God doesn’t hand you a contract assuring you any kind of success. He asks you to trust in him, and allow yourself to be led through the dark with only his hand to guide you. By letting God be in charge, we allow ourselves to go places we never knew we would and do things we never thought we could.

Look at me. I never thought I would be preaching at a communion service in Albuquerque, New Mexico, wearing an outfit designed in Middle Ages, but here I am.

In all honesty, some nights, when I’m getting into bed, I laugh out loud and smile with joy, I’m that grateful that God has called me to be a Dominican friar.

Today the Church sets before us two examples of radical love for Christ in the lives of St. Jude and St. Simon. By doing so, it asks us to seriously consider the possibility that God is calling us to the same kind of radical love for Christ that pours itself out in ministry in the Church. If you think he’s calling you, don’t--like the rich young man--miss the opportunity. Answer the call.

Br. Paul, OP~

Preaching for 10.27.09

Read: Romans 8:18-25; Luke 13:18-21, and Watch:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qlOFN2SYaEk

Can you taste the optimism in the words of that song? It’s a fantastic song. And I began my preaching with it today, because I think it perfectly captures the optimism of both the passage from Paul’s letter to the Romans and the two sayings that we hear from our Lord in Luke’s gospel.

There are so many prophets of doom and gloom, who seem to capitalize on the Christian belief in the “Last Day”. They highlight the strangeness and uncertainty of that moment, and the fear and violence. Just read one of those tabloids they sell at the grocery store check out line, or one of the Left Behind books. These texts want us to be afraid, and worry about the Second Coming. They want us to supposedly “read the signs of the times” and be on the look out for the “Anti-Christ”.

But these negative images are not how a Christian ought to look at the Return of the Lord. We ought to, as St. Paul writes, “wait with eager expectation.” Another translation has it “with eager longing”. What is coming for all who have been united to Christ in baptism and the Eucharist is not a day of dread, but the fulfillment of a promise.

Like with a pregnancy, there will be trauma--but after the trauma has passed, there will be a greater joy than we have ever known, and a new life.

Another misconception about the Coming of the Kingdom is that people seem to think the transition will happen all at once. They focus on certain obvious events that will mark the end of the age. Jesus, however, reminds us with these two sayings that the Kingdom of God has already begun to come. And it comes in quiet, unseen ways--like a tiny seed beginning to germinate in the ground, or yeast beginning to work in a batch of bread. You may not see it at work, but you will know it’s presence, when it’s work is accomplished.

I think this clearly refers to the work of the Holy Spirit in the lives of all believers. Each time we turn away from evil, each time we fight our temptations, each time we do penance and seek God’s forgiveness, and each time we say “yes” to the Spirit’s instruction and inspiration, we become manifestations of the Kingdom of God on earth.

Let us meditate on the words of scripture today, and this song we heard, and resolve to be a people of hope in a world of fear and uncertainty. A people of joy in a world of sadness. A people of love in a world of loneliness and detachment. By doing so, we will shine, as St. Paul says elsewhere, like stars in the darkness of this present age, and thereby light the way for others to come to Christ.

Preaching Notes for 10.26.09

The following is my preaching for today's readings: Rom 8:12-17 and Luke 13:10-17

I don’t know about you, but one of my favorite things to do when I’m out in public is to people watch. The creative writer in me likes to catch glimpses of other people and to imagine what they are thinking, and what their lives are like. I do this when I’m sitting at a café having an iced-tea, when I’m at the airport waiting at my gate, and when I’m in church waiting for mass to begin.

One of my favorite places to people watch this past summer was at the “City Star”, a huge, skyscraper of a mall built in a well-to-do part of Cairo, Egypt. While wondering around the book stores and clothing stores, or sitting down to have a piece of cake, I studied the Egyptian people. I admired their clothing, of course, but more than that, I watched how they related to one other. I loved watching a mother as she shepherd her children around, and I found it interesting how two male friends could openly walk around together arm in arm. Every person or group I looked at seemed to have a story, and I wanted to know more.

I think the virtue underlying “people watching” is the ability to relate to a person that you don’t know, on a deeper level. Humans have a way of not really “seeing” one another. We see the physical form of others, but we don’t “see” the spiritual. We don’t recognize in other people a whole life, a personality, a person that has relationships, including a relationship with God.

We see a perfect example of this problem in today’s Gospel reading. The good and pious people of a village have gathered to worship and pray in their synagogue, and in their midst is someone who has been suffering for 18 years from a very painful condition. She can’t even raise her head up. 18 years she has suffered physically--and no doubt, in other ways, as well. I’m sure many people wouldn’t even look at her as she took her place in the synagogue. They didn’t really see her as a person. That’s a great shame, because look at what a model of patience and perseverance she was. 18 years of suffering, and she still went to the synagogue to worship and pray.

Our Lord, however, does see her. It’s one of the most striking characteristic about Jesus--that when you’re in his presence, he truly sees you--not just physically, but completely. And in seeing you, he loves you. That’s why, despite the opposition he knew would come from some of the people gathered, he called out to the woman, and cures her of her affliction. After all, Jesus reasons, the woman is a daughter of Abraham, which is another way of saying she’s a child of God.

Today, we are not just being asked to be mindful of the fact that we are sons and daughters of God--as we heard from St. Paul’s letter to the Romans--we are being commanded by the Gospel to extend that understanding of our own chosen-ness to every person we encounter. We are being called to imitate the Lord, and have eyes that are fully open to see those around us. The better we see people, the better we understand our relationship with them. This understanding leads to the kind of charity that over flows into action on behalf of our neighbor. Make no mistake about it, it is only when our chosen-ness overflows into action that we come to live up to our identity as the children of God.

Br. Paul, OP~
PS: The Image is by James Tissot

I Come to the Garden Alone--Cairo Adventures: Post 6

One of the unexpected joys of living in Cairo was living in a priory that had a beautiful garden around it on both sides. The back garden, nestled between the priory, the library, and the guest house, was mainly used for outdoor eating. It had a wonderful circle of chairs seated beneath this one expansive shade tree. It reminded me of the mimosa trees we have in Covington.

My favorite part of the garden, however, was the front part. There were so many terrific elements to it. There was the tree-lined walkway leading up to the priory's front steps, the English shrubbery, the fruit tree grove complete with banana trees, apple trees, and olive trees, and the gravel path that circled around to this perfect avenue of grape vines on one side and the outer wall covered with a gorgeous purple and white flowering vine on the other. This last part--the avenue--spoke to my soul. It sent me back to my childhood and the Frances Hodgson Burnett's classic novel The Secret Garden.

The garden was not important to me only because of its beauty. It was important, because it was a holy space for me to walk in with God. You see, I began to notice during the conference on Islam that my prayer life was getting pretty stale. We were so busy rushing from meeting, to site-seeing, to prayer/mass, that I wasn't really taking time just to be with God. I start to get a feeling in my psyche that I like to call "running on empty". When I'm in this mode, I have plenty of energy to do things, but I don't have any joy. I feel like I'm missing something. Well, if you're married, or if you have a best-friend, maybe you've felt like you were "running on empty" when you've been away from that person you love for a while. This is how I feel when I don't take the time to just be with God.

Once the conference was over, then, I resolved to do a better job of hanging out with God. You can do this a million ways, of course, but my favorite way became taking a walk with him. This image of walking with God has been with me ever since I first heard the story of St. Enoch from Genesis 5:21-24. There's not much to Enoch's story in the text, but when I was little I had a picture Bible that had a great picture of this holy man looking up to heaven as he stood in a garden. Enoch became a model of holiness for me, and the story taught me a key spiritual truth--God is someone to live with and to love--someone to center your whole life around. He ought to be your best friend. In later years I appreciated how some saints have put it--God isn't a good amoung goods--he's the good.

So, I began to take walks with God. In particular, I invited God the Father to be with me, and to walk beside me. In today's world may of us are so poor, due to our lack of good relationships with our fathers. There's something vitally important about having a father's love and care. Men and women need it for different reasons, but we both need it. Lucky for us, God has revealed himself to be our Father, so what we perhaps lack in our human relationships, God makes up with his divine and paternal love.

I was probably happiest during those walks with God down the gravel path. Especially when my little feline angel, Mireille, joined us, and walked along at my feet. In one way, it made me think of the Garden of Eden, in another, it made me think of Heaven.

I'm convinced that God wants so much to love us, all we have to do is invite him in.

P~

A Message from St. Faustina

I have been fortunate that as part of my ministry here at the Newman Center, I have been reading and teaching the spirituality of St. Faustina, as presented in her diary. Her language is simple, but extraordinary, because her words are the words of a woman in communion with the Lord. Like a new Mary Magadalene, Faustina testifies to the Lord's Resurrection. "I have seen the Lord, and he is beautiful!" is the basic message that she preaches. That should give hope to so many who do not feel the Lord near them, even though he is always near.

Listen to these powerful words taken from St. Faustina's diary. It's a love letter of the saint to the Lord. Would that we were all so in love with God.

"O my Jesus, You are the life of my life. You know only too well that I long for nothing but the glory of your Name and that souls come to know Your goodness. Why do souls avoid you, Jesus?--I don't understand that. Oh, if I could only cut my heart into tiny pieces and in this way offer to you, O Jesus, each piece as a heart whole and entire, to make up in part for the hearts that do not love you! I love you, Jesus, with every drop of my blood, and I would gladly shed my blood for you to give you a proof of the sincerity of my love. O God, the more I know you the less I can comprehend you, but this "non-comprehension" lets me realize how great you are! And it is this impossibility of comprehending you which inflames my heart anew for you, O Lord. From the moment when you let me fix the eyes of my soul on you, O Jesus, I have been at peace and desired nothing else. I found my destiny at the moment when my soul lost itself in you, the only object of my love. In comparison with you, everything is nothing. Sufferings, adversities, humiliations, failures and suspicions that have come my way are splinters that keep alive the fire of my love for you, O Jesus."

St. Faustina, Bride of Christ and Apostle of Divine Mercy, pray for us!

If You've Seen One Mosque...Cairo Adventures: Post 4

Picture it. A young, bald American friar with a devil-may-care smile and sensible shoulder bag puts on his layer of sun tan lotion and mosquito repellent for the day and walks down the wide stairway of a century’s old priory to the first floor. He passes through the intricately carved wooden gate of the house and steps out into the balmy Egyptian morning. Here and there, the gardeners are watering the trees and flowers, while little kittens jump in and out of the tall bushes. When they see him, they stop in their tracks and wonder if this Westerner has any food to offer. He doesn’t. Instead, his high-pitched, nasally voice calls out words that resemble French, and they all run away. All except Mireille. She comes bounding up and calls back to him. She’s not hungry for food, just for attention, and this cat-loving, salsa-eating preacher man is willing to risk disease and pharonic curses and bends down to pet her. Instantly, she gives her little feline heart to him, and they become fast friends.

In five or ten minutes, the other student brothers have assembled. A British voice is singing pop-songs, while an Irish voice expounds some doctrine. A Filipino and a German voice laugh together, while a South African and an African American pair recite some television drama for their entertainment. The luxurious sound of that South African voice is astounding. It seems to challenge the Anglophone assembly to surpass the elegance and dignity of its rich and slowly formed vowel sounds... It’s a young group, an optimistic group, gathered that morning to see some of Cairo’s finest mosques…

If you've not been to a mosque, even at home in the U.S., they are beautiful places of peace and prayer. The mosques in the Middle East are very old, of course, and grander than any mosque that could be built these days. Many of them have a feature not typical of any church, and that's an inner courtyard that is available to use as a space for congregational prayer. In a climate where rain is infrequent, such a thing is quite suitable. Usually in this area there is a large watering place for people to wash before prayer. In a covered place, there will be two other important things. One, a little niche that gives away the direction to Mecca, so everyone knows to pray in that direction. And two, a very interesting pulpit, complete with door and staircase. Some of the mosques that we visited had a large interior with a forest of arches and columns. Some had fantastic domes with lamps that cascaded light out over the expanse below.

I can appreciate the reasons our host friars took us to places like the Ibn Tulun and the Al Azhar mosques. The first step out of the darkness of ignorance and prejudice can be just walking into the place of another, and seeing what their life may be like, even if they aren't in the place at the time. (That sounds almost ghostly, doesn't it?) But even more than just the obvious reasons, to talk about Islam on Islam's own turf and to explain Muslim worship practice, I think a very good reason for taking us to these mosques is to let us "feel" what it's like to be in those places.

I can remember the first few times I clandestinely visited a Catholic Church. I felt a kind of awe and sense of peace. As I walked around inside Covington's Cathedral Basilica of the Assumption, a mini-Gothic masterpiece, I was blown away not so much by the rainbow of colors pouring down from the stained-glass windows above, as by the collective effect of beauty and silence and space. Of course, I was also aware of the fact that I was in the presence of God in a special way. The Blessed Sacrament was there, in this place, and that made a difference. It made the place holy in a way no church I had been to before had felt without the people assembled. It was this "feeling" of sanctuary that kept calling me back, and which made me realize that the Catholic Church was home.

As I walked around the many, many mosques that we visited, I did not have the same awe as I did that first time I entered Covington's basilica, but I did experience a kind of serenity--The breeze blowing gently across my face as I sat on a prayer rug, or the warmth of the sun on my skin as I climbed the stairs of a minaret while the noise from the busy streets outside echoed like the soundtrack to a dream--these are things of psychic comfort, which heal us as they teach us to breathe deeper and to let go of the busyness inside. This is what a places of prayer can do. They make contemplatives of us all. This is what I think of, when I think of the mosques of Cairo.

Anglican Catholics?

I was recently asked what my opinion was about an article that discussed the Vatican's announcement that it would take greater strides to help Anglicans come into full communion with the Catholic Church. Before I write about that, I will just say that properly speaking, Christians who have been baptized correctly in other Christian denominations before becoming Catholic are not "converts". We use that term, because it's easier than saying "he or she was brought into full communion." The distinction, however, recognizes the fact that there are Christians other than Catholics. As someone who was "brought into full communion", I understand the importance of recognizing someone's spiritual journey, even if that journey did not begin in the Catholic Church. (I was Pentecostal, then Methodist.)

So what's the whole thing with the Anglicans about? From what I gather, the Vatican has recognized a need to respond in a better way to larger groups of people wanting to come into full communion. Whole Anglican or Episcopalian parishes have voted to enter into communion with the Vatican, and this means that you can't just have the regular RCIA. Another reason for not just having these people go through RCIA is that many of these people are well trained in the Christian faith, and believe exactly what Catholics believe. It would be insulting to treat them as if Christianity were new to them. That said, these people also are coming in with a unique heritage--the Anglican tradition, which speaks to them strongly, just as the various ethnic roots of other Catholic rites do for people in areas like the Middle East. The Vatican seems to recognize that full unity with Rome need not entail the destruction of that unique Anglican tradition. This is reasonable, since much of that tradition is, more or less, in line with the greater practice of the Catholic Church. Why, one might ask, let a group's local tradition stand in the way of greater Christian unity?

The Vatican seems to be saying, as well, that it would recognize and respect the clergymen of the Anglican tradition that wish to serve as clergymen in the Catholic Church. This means that married men that have already been ordained, and those in the Anglican seminaries, would be welcomed into the Church under a special dispensation, as are married priests of some Eastern rites. The point, from my perspective, is to do a better job at letting the new Anglican-Catholics have their own corner of the greater Catholic Church. They could stay together as Catholics, and retain their unique traditions and customs. They would even, if I understand correctly, have unique leadership.

Some reporters seem to be wondering if the Vatican's move was fair, or if the Church wasn't "capitalizing" on the struggles of it's Anglican sister? This question is not so outrageous, considering it looks plainly like the Catholic Church is targeting one specific group of people, and making concessions for them in order to "win them over." But that's only one way to look at it, and I doubt that it's the best way. After all, the Vatican has said, and I believe it, that the recent move to make things easier comes as a response to demands already being made of the Church by Anglicans who want to come into full communion. Given all the things I mentioned above, it makes pastoral sense for the Church to welcome these fellow Christians into full communion with great respect. It also makes sense, given history, to recognize the unique tradition and identity of Anglicans, even while we welcome them under the Catholic umbrella. Nationalism, after all, can stall efforts at getting Christians to be united, as can a history of unique distinct identity. Why, after all, are the Orthodox and the Catholics not united, if not because of nationalism? Why, after all, are the Lutherans and the Catholics not united, if not because of history of distinctions? These may be over-simplifications, but I think there's a fundamental truth to them. Sometimes Christians have not been united for very weak and bad reasons after the initial, historical and/or theological reasons have been sorted out, and this I think is scandalous given the fact that our Loving Lord prayed that we would remain one.

I don't quite agree with some of the articles that make it seem like only raging conservative Anglicans are wanting to come into full communion, either. You don't have to be a raging conservative to disagree with gay marriage and women's ordination. Some Anglicans, I imagine, are just dissatisfied with the direction the Anglican Church has been taking on theological matters, as well. Some, of course, just recognize that there's not a really great reason not to be Catholic. And now, people like that don't have to give up the things they liked about being Anglican in order to be Catholic.

I will also say that, from what I can tell, some Anglicans and Episcopalians have suffered from an identity crisis, of sorts. Being the "in between" church that is kind-of Catholic and not-quite Protestant must be difficult, because then you always have to rationalize what you do and who you are. Read the novels of Barbara Pym, an Anglican novelist, and you will find that, for some reason, she was always looking over her shoulder, afraid that Rome was just around the corner to get her. I think the reason was because she knew that the only way to resist the call to full communion was to demonize "Rome", and divinize the "Englishness" of the Anglican Church. Come home, Barbara! I say. You have a place.

Another thing I will say (haven't I said enough), is that there's an important lesson my student master once taught me. He said, "The Dominican Order need not exist. We exist for a reason, but if that reason no longer exists, then the Order can disappear tomorrow." I bring this up now, because various groups may desperately think that it's essential for their group to always exist. But there really isn't any need for the Anglican Church, or the Methodist Church, the Lutheran Church, or the Baptist Church, etc. to exist forever. Wouldn't it be better if there was only the One United Church of Christ--Catholics, Orthodox, Protestants, Anglicans, all together? Wouldn't that send a greater message out to the world about the Body of Christ, rather than these old divisions?

It takes a great deal of vulnerability on the part of anyone to recognize the need for unity is greater than the need for special identity and distinction. That's why I applaud those Anglicans who are willing to come into full communion. I also applaud the Vatican's efforts at making that transition easier. After all, whatever converts and other Christians bring with them when they come into the Church, which is not against the Church's teaching and tradition, enriches the Church, and truly makes it a home for all.

Remember, this is just the opinion of one individual, and what do I know?

(PS: About the photo. It's a picture I took of Trinity Epsicopal Church, a historic Episcopal Church in Covington, KY. My use of it does not, in any way, imply that that congregation has any desire to leave the Anglican Communion for the Catholic Church. It's just there for the sake of art.)

My Cairo Adventure: Post 3

One of the most exciting parts about the trip to Cairo was the fact that the conference was bringing together student brothers from around the world. The Dominican Order of Preachers is an 800 year old institution (if you're counting from the foundation of the Dominican nuns in 1206), and in that 800 years Dominican communities have been founded across the world. At this conference, there were brothers from Ireland, England, Nigeria, South Africa, the four provinces of the U.S., the Philippines, Indonesia, India, and Germany. Not to mention our hosts, who were from the Province of France. (We missed not having any Canadians or Australians/New Zealanders.) Most of the participating students were cleric brothers (seminarians), I was the only official cooperator brother, and three were ordained priests. Our hosts were all ordained priests.

The amazing thing about getting together with people from around the world is that no matter what our backgrounds, we are brothers, and it did not take long for us to get to know each other. Some of the brothers had had limited experience of Islam, like myself. Others, however, came from parts of the world where Islam is the dominant religion. These brothers were not so green when it came to discussing the importance of inter-religious dialogue. They knew first had what it was like to encounter Islam as a hostile religion. The brothers in Nigeria and Indonesia, especially, were able to bring a different perspective, as brothers in those countries had experienced some hostility because of their faith. It was important for them to hear, also, that this isn't the whole story for Islam. Christians in the United States live peacefully with their Muslim neighbors. Was this because Islam still not as large in the U.S. as it is in these other countries, or is it because of the relative respect that the U.S. government shows towards all religions?

So, when we gathered to learn about Islam, we brought to the table our own questions. Our questions were different, based on the different situations of our home countries. Whatever the situation, we all were coming together to learn more, so that our interaction with Muslims when we returned home could be more informed.

What did we learn? A lot. One of the first presentations was given by Father Josef Dreher on the history of Islam. Later on, we watched a Muslim film about the foundation of Islam called The Messenger. This film was excellent, as it was well made, and it certainly gave an idea of the mythology that surrounds Mohamed and the early years of the Islamic community. I say mythology with all due respect, but recognizing that with Islam, as with any religion, the early foundation and heroes are often shrouded in a pious cloud, which looks just a little too simplistic or nice. Also, the term mythology recognizes that we aren't being told the 100% truth. For example, the film downplays the important formative years of Mohamed's travels among various people, including Christians and Jews. I have no doubt that Mohamed was not just a illiterate prophet, but that he was actually an eager, religious man, who absorbed whatever he could of information about the God of Abraham. I have a great deal of respect for the idea that in the midst of a Pagan, polytheistic culture, Mohamed stood out as one of those people who was willing to reject the falshood of the religion around him, in favor of a monotheistic religion. He was passionately monotheistic, and anything that seemed remotely polytheistic in his view--including a religion like Christianity that taught the doctrine of the Trinity, and allowed for holy images to be painted--would seem less perfect to him, than a more simple religion. I have no doubt that Mohamed knew more about Judaism and Christianity than Muslims care to admit. I'm not so sure that he was illiterate, either--but even if he was, he certainly knew Jewish and Christian stories--and knew them very well.

What I'm talking about here is the creation of the Koran, the sacred book of the Muslims, and so the sacred text of a large portion of the world's population. I have talked about the Koran before, especially from a literary point of view, as well as from a Christian point of view. What is a Christian to make of such a text? Well, just like with any religious text, Christians out to respect the fact that the Koran means something very special to Muslims, and the Koran is at the heart of the Islamic religion. But we also have to appreciate, from an inter-religious dialogue or an apologetic point of view, that the Koran is going to be the basis of division between Christians and Muslims. Christians cannot accept the Koran as the revealed word of God. The Koran, after all, denies the divinity of Jesus Christ. It includes gnostic or apocryphal stories of Jesus that have not been accepted as part of the Christian canon. Rather than the pure word of God, Christians may see much of Mohamed's own beliefs and concerns canonized in the Koran. This is why I think, as a text, the Koran is one of the most defensive religious writings I have ever encountered. It is a self-conscious text that realizes it has to compete with the Jewish and Christian scriptures, and with a hostile Pagan society that does not accept its authority.

That said, one of the things I realized during the course of the conference, as I tried to study the Koran, and I listened to presenters on the Koran's history like Father Claude Gilliot and Fr. Michel Cuypers, was that any of the many weaknesses in the Koran that I saw were weaknesses that someone could charge the Bible with. I had to get out of my own defensiveness, and look at the Koran as the wonder that Muslims see it as. Truly, it must have been amazing to those first Muslims, as it is to Muslims ever after, to hear those words recited. Never had these people heard such a strong command for them to give over themselves to their Creator. I admit, that one of the most beautiful parts about living amongst Muslims in Egypt was getting to hear the call to prayer throughout the day, and, especially, to hear the recitation of the Koran as I rode along in a cab, or walked down the city streets. You can immediately recognize the recitation of the Koran from ordinary music, and there is something other worldly and beautiful about the sound. It's just tragic that such a sound may include words that claim Jesus is not divine, since he is.

This was the major point of my concern about Islam. And when we gathered together to talk about our concerns on that first Thursday evening on July 2nd, I articulated the fact that I struggled to understand how I was supposed to interact with Muslims and how I was supposed to respect Islam, given the fact that I believe the spread of Islam has done much to keep people from hearing the truth of the Gospel. If you educate people from birth on a certain version of events, when someone comes along to set them right about those events, the hearers biases for the false version are strong. I carried this concern with me for much of the trip, as it was part of the luggage that I had brought with me from America.

It stayed with me, making me somewhat less sympathetic or open to Islam, as it weighed down my heart. This heaviness was not lifted until on Saturday, July 11th, we went to see a show of the Whirling Dervishes at Qobbet al-Ghouri. These Whirling Dervishes were just a show--they weren't really a group of Muslim mystics, but they did remind me of one aspect of Muslim history and theology that I could relate to very well. The Koran says little about the passionate and spousal love that God has for creation, unlike the Bible, but the Muslim mystical tradition does. As I watched the men dance around in their fantastic costumes, I recognized the joy of mystical union the soul has with God. This joy has not been denied to Muslims, it seems. What history could not do for me, mysticism did, and I saw in the Muslim mystic a brother in faith.

I learned, therefore, that if you approach other religions solely from an apologetic point of view, you may be tempted not to truly see the other person. They become just "heretics" or "liars". A certain level of blindness steps in, even if you are the one defending the truth, because you are only focusing on some of the truth, and not the greater picture. Passion for one's faith is good, but only if it makes you passionate for the good of others. Once I learned this, I realized that I had come to encounter Islam as a lived experiece (as mentioned in the previous posting) and not just to learn what I could to debate with Muslims more effectively.

Cairo: The Beginning of the Adventure: Post 2

Some may justly ask: How on earth did Br. Paul end up in Cairo, Egypt? Well, Reader, I’ll tell you. Every year, just before the beginning of the fall semester, the student brothers and the student master have a business meeting/retreat together. During the meeting of August, 08, Father David mentioned that the friars of the Province of France, who live and minister in Cairo, were inviting English-speaking student brothers from around the world to come for a conference on Islam. Our province was willing to send two interested brothers to the conference. Interested brothers need only email Father David of their interest and then things would go from there.

Oddly enough, the moment Father David presented the opportunity the little wheels in my head and heart began to turn. I had always had an interest in other religions, including Islam. In fact, I can still remember when I first learned that Islam existed. Sadly, I must admit that I was in high school already. This is, perhaps, a little understandable, since there is only a very small number of Muslims in my home state and home town. Kentucky is definitely a predominantly Christian state, and Covington is full of churches, but no synagogues or mosques. The closest we get to inter-religious is the presence of Mormons and Jehovah’s Witnesses, of which there are a number.

Anyway, I was fascinated by Islam during those early days—the claim that there had been a prophet after Jesus surprised and intrigued me. I began to do research and learn more about Mohamed and Islam. If you could look into my ninth grade English notebook, you would find several doodles of grand Mosques which I thought would accentuate Covington’s skyline. As I learned more, my fascination settled down. I did buy a copy of the Koran, which I tried to read, but found difficult (yes, it was in English). Soon, I turned my thoughts to other things, but I did not quite lose my interest in Islam. In college, I continued to learn more about Islam in my Western Religions course, which covered Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.

Based on the above, maybe it is not so surprising that I wanted to attend the conference on Islam. It did not hurt, of course, that the conference was being hosted in Cairo, Egypt. I have a rather romantic notion of Middle Eastern culture, and so wanted to taste it firsthand. I suppose that’s due to my love of Christianity’s Jewish roots.

In short, Reader, as soon as I returned to the priory in St. Louis, I emailed Father David to let him know of my interest. Luckily, it had not been decided that I would be doing my internship at a hospital the summer of ’09, so I was eligible to go. Equally fortunate for me, only one other brother emailed that he would like to go, so there was no need to have an election. You can imagine my excitement when I learned, a few months later, that I would not just be spending two weeks in Cairo for the conference, but nearly two months! It was decided that I and the other friar would stay on after the conference to do some social justice ministry. Yes. I was both excited, but also frightened. Two months outside the U.S. would be the longest that I have ever been away from my home country. Two months, furthermore, in Northern Africa during the heat of the summer did not sound 100% ideal. There were moments when I wondered what I was getting myself into. I have those moments a lot…but they don’t always convince me to give up on ideas. I’m certainly glad that I did not, as I thought of doing sometimes, go to Father David and say I had changed my mind.

Thus, at the end of June, I found myself on a plane crossing the Atlantic Ocean for the seventh time in my life. What was I going for? What would I really learn about Islam? Would my biases get in the way of really encountering this world religion? The answers to these questions are important, of course. I wasn’t going to Cairo with the same childlike enthusiasm that I had as a high school student. Quite frankly, I had grown in my confidence in the truth of Christianity, which made me all the more suspicious of Islam. I did not grant the primary claims of the religion—namely that Mohamed was God’s prophet and that the Koran is the word of God. (Of course not…If I did, I would be Muslim.) This kind of certainty is understandable, natural even, when one has confidence in one’s own religion—but this kind of certainty can also make one proud, impatient, and condescending when encountering people of other faiths. This, I knew, I did not want to be. Thus, my goal in attending the conference was first and foremost to encounter Islam as a lived faith. You can talk about religious belief all day long. A Christian may teach about Judaism and Islam perfectly well, but the lived reality of a faith can only be experienced. I was going to Cairo to meet Muslims and to see Islam lived out in a predominately Muslim country. I was also going, I knew, to encounter my brother and sister Christians of Egypt, and to witness to the Gospel, even if only by wearing my black and white Dominican cross on the dusty, dirty, noisy, cat-filled, and traffic congested streets of one of the greatest cities I had ever been to.

I will talk more about what I discovered about Islam, Cairo, and myself in the postings to come…

My Cairo Experience, Post 1

You can't have an experience like a near-two month stay in Cairo and not have a lot to unpack when you return to a country like the United States. Not only that, you can't be a picture lover, and not have tons of pictures of the many beautiful places that Cairo has to offer. Thus, I will try, over the next few weeks, to share many of these pictures and stories with you.

These first two pictures highlight two very important parts of my visit to Cairo. In the first picture, you see the beautiful priory of Our Lady of the Rosary, which is the house for the community of friars that live and minister in Cairo. It's a great house, perfectly designed, in my opinion. Proudly, I can say, it was designed by a Dominican cooperator brother like myself. (I should find out his name.) This priory was not just a beautiful house to live in--it was my home in Egypt. It was a place I felt safe in. It was the oasis in the desert. Both the interior, and the gardens and library surrounding it, the priory was my little island of familiarity in the middle of a foreign country. This is the wonder of religious life. No matter where you go, you have a home wherever your brothers or sisters are found.

The second picture was taken on July 12th, 2009. It shows me renewing my simple vows for two more years. I symbolically and literally place my hands and my life in the hands of the Dominican Order again, promising obedience to God, to Bl. Mary, to Bl. Dominic, and to the Master of the Order of Friars Preachers. It was a beautiful and simple moment, and I felt very honored that I was able to renew my vows in Cairo, Egypt. (I'm sure this will make for an interesting little detail for an archivist to come across years from now.

I was in Cairo, Egypt for two basic purposes. The first was to attend a conference on Islam being held by the Dominican friars in Cairo. The friars there run a library which has a first rate collection of texts for Islamic studies. These men study Islam, as well, in many various areas--Koranic studies, Arabic studies, history, etc., the better to understand one of the worlds largest religions. They invited student brothers from around the English-speaking world to attend. Brothers came from all four of the U.S. provinces, from Ireland, England, India, Nigeria, South Africa, Germany, and the Philippines.

The second purpose for my stay was to do ministry among the Sudanese refugees in Cairo. There is a large refugee population in Egypt due to the many hardships in the Sudan. Many of these refugees are Catholic Christians. I worked with both Christians and Muslims as a teacher of English as a second language. I will say more about that work in posts to come.

It was an amazing and challenging trip. I look forward to sharing more about it soon...
In Christ and St. Dominic,
Paul, OP~

Come and See Retreats that I know about...

Come and Sees are retreats designed to help interested young men and women to visit communities of priests, brothers, sisters, etc., and to learn more about those communities as part of the discernment process. It's very important for interested young men and women to also have a sense of the "personality" of a community, after all, he or she is potentially going to join that community for life in the service of God and the people of God.

The Dominican Friars of St. Albert the Great's province just hosted their fall Come and See in St. Louis. There will be a spring Come and See next semester, in early 2010. Email me for more information at cooperatorbrother@gmail.com. The retreat is for men discerning a vocation to the Dominican priesthood and brotherhood. Visit our website at http://www.domcentral.org/.

The Dominican Sisters of the Immaculate Conception, located in Justice, IL (just outside of Chicago) are hosting their Come and See October 23rd-25th. These OP sisters were founded by Servant of God, Mother Kolumba Bialecka of Poland in 1861. In 1945, one of the sisters was martyred by the Nazi regime, and has been declared blessed. Her name is Blessed Julia Rodzinska. The "Sisters of St. Dominic carry on their apostolic mission in Poland, USA, Canada, Italy, Cameroon, Russia, Ukraine, and Belarus, by educating in faith children and adults, taking care of the sick, poor and elderly, and providing parishes with various ministries.
For more information, contact the vocation directress, Sister Margaret Lekan, OP at: 708-458-3040 or srmargaret@sisterop.com. visit their website at http://www.sistersop.com/

The Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist (also called Dominican Sister of Mary, for short, or the Ann Arbor Dominicans) are hosting several Come and See weekends, including: Nov. 7-8, 09; Feb. 20-21, 2010; and May 22-23, 2010. For more information contact the vocation directress at: vocations@sistersofmary.org. Visit their website at www.sisterofmary.org.

Interested in cloistered life as a Dominican nun? Consider emailing the vocation directress of the Dominican Cloistered Nuns of the Monastery of the Blessed Sacrament in Farmington Hills, MI at 248-626-8253 or vocdir@sbcglobal.net. Or visit their website at www.opnuns-fh.org.

I'll keep you posted on more Dominican Come and Sees as I hear about them.

A New Beginning

Since the last time that I have posted on this blog, much has happened. It was a difficult decision to stop posting for a while, with a combination of factors all crying out for my silence. The greatest of the reasons being that I was very mindful of the fact that I have a duty, as a simply professed brother, to do what I can not to bring problems upon my community of brothers or the Order of Preachers at large by saying or doing anything that may not be correct. I also felt that the amount of work required of me as a graduate student was too much to allow for other projects, as well. Of course, the greatest reason was the fact that it's just easier to have less work in one's life. That said, writing is part of my vocation. I've always loved writing, and so I cannot stay away from it too long. Preaching is also part of my vocation, and a Dominican who isn't preaching, in whatever way God has called him or her to preach, isn't living up to the vocation.

So, I hope to "be back" at work on this blog for real this time. I have much to talk about.

For one thing, I want to share some of the stories I have from my summer of education and ministry in Cairo, Egypt. I had a fantastic time living with the Dominican friars of Our Lady of the Rosary priory in Cairo. I have pictures from the workshop on Islam with the other student brothers from around the world, but none of my ministry with the Sudanese refugees, unfortunately.

I am currently living and ministering in Albuquerque, New Mexico at the Aquinas Newman Center on the campus of the University of New Mexico. I am having great fun, here, as a campus minister intern. I am learning a lot about what young people are hungry for, and I am witness to the great work of the Holy Spirit in the lives of many of the people I meet, especially those discerning their callings to various ministries--including to the priesthood and religious life. I hope to share more about my ministry in the posts to come.

Today, as the picture shows, I did a very necessary thing. I got out of the priory for a while. I went to sit with myself and reflect on what is foremost in my thoughts these days. Because I live on the campus of a university, I am blessed to be within walking distance of so many bookshops and coffee houses. Today, I tried a place called "Coffee by LB." I was not satisfied with the iced-tea I had at the "Flying Star", which I usually call the "Falling Star", by mistake. It tasted as if they pulled the tea plant up, roots and all, and brewed the tea. A little too earthy for my taste. The "Tropical Isle" tea I had at "Coffee by LB", in contrast, was just right--flavorful, but not overbearing, nor too watery (which is how I found the iced-tea at both two other restaurants I've visited lately). Forgive this rant on iced-tea, but I love the stuff.

I had the good fortune of finishing my reading of Henry James's The Portrait of a Lady today. The good fortune, because it was a little triumph for me. I sorely wanted to abandon the novel, since I found James's prose to be too dense, and his characters generally unlikeable. There is a great level of beauty to the book, but it demands a large amount of patience. Once I realized that at the heart of the book is the question of marriage, and what marriage is about, and what one ought to do in the face of disappointment, my interest was reignited. I have a great sympathy for people who find that their marriages are unhappy ones, and Isabel Archer's marriage was terribly unhappy. As the narrator explains..."she accused him of nothing--that is but of one thing, which was not a crime. She knew of no wrong he had done; he was not violent, he was not cruel: she simply believed he hated her. That was all she accused him of, and the miserable part of it was precisely that it was not a crime, for against a crime she might have found redress." (Chapter 42) Like Dorothea in Eliot's Middlemarch, Isabel simply married the wrong man. The mistake for both women presents a major crisis, one which the two authors resolve differently. Anyway, this is not an English lesson. I just wanted to comment on what I was reading. I have now moved on to Thackeray's Vanity Fair.

Part of the goal of going to the coffee house was to do my bi-weekly theological reflection. Part of my course assignment for the pastoral year of ministry is to make theological reflection a consistent part of my life. The idea of theological reflection, for my point of view, is to help the minister identify central questions and challenges presented by ministry. Whether done alone, with another person, or in a group, theological reflection aims at being mindful of one's successes and struggles, and incorporating the wisdom of Catholic tradition into one's discernment and decision making process.

The first thing I do when I do theological reflection with myself, is to bring to the "table" the central questions on my mind. I try and not do theological reflection just for the sake of doing it--since I think that would rob it of it's usefulness, and likely tempt me to drop it as a discipline. Instead, during the week I make sure that I'm aware of any questions or concerns that are floating around in my thoughts. These things I take note of, and when possible, I slow down and write out what I'm thinking.

The writing out of the situation is important. So often it's tempting just to fast-foward to the decision making process, but it's important to first articulate what the perceived situation is. In today's case, I wrote out my thoughts on future education opportunities. I have, from the beginning of my religious life, struggled with my propensity to box myself in. I want to figure out a particular program of study for myself, and then daydream a particular ministry. I am uncomfortable with ambiguity and uncertainty. There's little control there. Today, I finally stopped again, and wrote out all the possibilities for study that have been placed before me. The study of Theology is not optional. It has a direct bearing on my ability to minister as a Dominican. Other fields of studies are optional, however, and I often wonder what else, besides Theology, ought I to pursue. I get anxious to make this decision, so that my future path might be clearer.

The insight that came to mind, however, by the end of the theological reflection, was the motto: "All for Preaching: No Limits". My central vocation, as a Dominican Brother, is preaching--hands down, first and foremost, preaching. Whatever can further that vocation is good. Also, as a religious, whatever other skills I have that might be useful to the province and Order, are also good--so studies that strengthen those skills ought also to be viewed as worthy.

The reminder to myself that preaching was central, and that writing was a mode of this, reminded me of my abandoned blog. I resolved to return to keeping this blog, whether anyone read it or not, as a way of living out my call to preach.

The grace of God is present to us in so many ways. The Holy Spirit was with me as a sat to write out my thoughts, and was helping me to see the path that was "in the middle"--the path that doesn't have definite answers, but has abundant possibilities. It can be a frightening path, but it's worth exploring. It requires that you keep the Holy Spirit with you as guide.

Well, this posting is long enough, I think.
In Christ and St. Dominic,
Paul, OP