Politics

The President was re-elected a couple weeks ago. Many other legislators, local and national, were chosen. Policies were passed or rejected. As far as I can tell, the planet continues to spin on its axis, hell has yet to freeze over, and our country is moving forward.

Now, do not mistake me. I voted. I care who gets elected and what laws go into effect. However, I also recognize that the leaders I favor will not always win, and the hopes I have for government will not always be realized. Despite disappointments, I will not cease civic engagement nor lose the hope that compromise is possible.

In the past few weeks I have had many conversations about the presidency, the Health and Human Services (HHS) Mandate, life issues, liberalism, conservatism, the two-party system, deceit in politics, the usefulness and purpose of debates, immigration, economic policies, foreign diplomacy, ongoing wars, troops, the relationship between religious faith and government. Most of these conversations produced a substantive discussion about voting priorities. A few, though, devolved into lectures portraying the political sphere as black and white, right and wrong, heathen and Christian. I adamantly disagree with this understanding.

No political party is a moral arbiter. Republic and Democratic factions seek to serve people in different ways, and the individual person has all sorts of reasons for voting one way or another -- experience, knowledge, and priorities vary greatly. As a Catholic, I have been taught that civic engagement is vitally important and that forming my conscience is a duty I must undertake seriously to adequately prepare myself as a voter.

My vote should express the value of human dignity, from the moment of conception to birth, offering the opportunity for education, religious freedom, and dignified work in life, and recognizing the preciousness of the unrepeatable, individual person to natural death.

After the election is finished, when the leaders are chosen and the policies decided, my role changes. I should always strive to be informed and use the many resources available to continually be forming my conscience. I should be participating in my community, engaging in dialogue with neighbors and at times with legislators and leaders, and offering help to others where I am able.

In conjunction with all these actions, I must be civically engaged through prayer. Our leaders, no matter what we think of them, need our prayers. They make decisions daily that change lives, both in our country and around the world. That comes with being a nation as materially and monetarily powerful as we are. Even if I despise a politician, Christ commanded us to pray for our enemies. Too much vitriol and polarization characterize the political conversation. How can we progress if we continue to stand in our corners plotting, bemoaning, and pronouncing armageddon?

For the rest of this month, I am making a special effort to pray for political leaders each day. Will you join me in prayer? Will you challenge me to be civically engaged? Will you walk with me in trying to understand how we can best uphold human dignity and live the Catholic principle of subsidiarity?

Let us pray: God, Our Father, Giver of Life, we entrust our nation to Your loving care. You are the rock on which this nation was founded. You alone are the true source of our cherished rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Reclaim this land for your glory and dwell among your people.

Send your Spirit to touch the hearts of our nations' leaders. Open their minds to the great worth of human life and the responsibilities that accompany human freedom. Remind your people that true happiness is rooted in seeking and doing your will.

Through the intercession of Mary Immaculate, Our Lady of Guadalupe, patroness of the Americas, grant us the courage to reject the culture of death. Lead us into a new millennium of life. We ask this through Christ, our Lord. Amen.

Journaling

Many who know me have heard me advocate for journaling as a healthy regular practice. Spiritual or not, writing reflections on life is a discipline I value highly, and it's been shown to have health benefits in formal studies.

During times of prayer, I journal. I clarify my thoughts. I write my prayers and sort through the mess of discernment, feelings, pressures, and realities. Life gets messy; journaling brings clarity.

I got to thinking about this because in the last two days I read over my journal entries from April to now, reflecting on the journey I've experienced. Daily experiences and repeated feelings flooded my consciousness from reading my journal. From the end of April to July, I wrote something every day. Sometimes it was no more than a sentence, often just a paragraph, but at times I processed many things in the midst of my writing. Now I can look with a reflective eye at the inklings and challenges I encountered. I can compare them to my experience of today, and formulate more eagerly how I should be moving forward. I cannot think of a better partner to examine the complexities of my mind and my will.

If I am to become the person I hope to be (and that God knows and wishes I can be), journaling will play a pivotal role in how I go about growing.

I am no expert, but that's the great thing about journaling. It's for me. No expertise is required. No one else sees it. That's why I don't regard blogging or any writing I distribute as journaling. These are similarly reflective habits, but they are intended for an audience. A journal is more raw. There is no one but me, the pen, and the paper. No one will check up on whether I do it. For many years I was a sporadic journaler, and while that was helpful, I always told myself I should be doing more because I found it to be so healthy when I made the time. That's why I decided this spring to make a daily commitment. For me, the time that worked came just before bedtime. I had an entire day upon which I could reflect. Some days I wrote very little, spending no more than a minute, but I still wrote something. The size of the entry does not matter, though I often found myself having notable experiences and wanting to record them so I would not forget. Moments of inspiration, sources of struggle, experiences that brought me joy or made me giggle -- all these made it into my journal.

My journal is a sanctuary, a crucible, a healing space, a hiding place, a close companion, a pathway to intimacy with the Lord, and a record of wrongs and rights. Do you journal? If yes, what significance does journaling have for you? If no, start today. It's a healthy habit you will never regret and always treasure.

Hope

On Friday, a Mount Angel seminarian for the Missionaries of the Holy Spirit died in a car accident. The story of his accident can be read here. Br. Robin Bernabe was a quiet man I did not know well. In fact, I had only one interaction with him I can remember, and it took place the Sunday before he died. Br. Robin joined in a pickup basketball game. I guarded him. He played for perhaps five minutes, did not score, thanked us for letting him take part, and hurried off to Filipino choir practice. The moment was simple, unremarkable except that his life would end five days later.

I replay that interaction inwardly as I contemplate how instantly Br. Robin's life ended. Here is a man living the Gospel simply, forsaking the world, nearing ordination as a priest of Jesus Christ, and he is abruptly called out of this life and hopefully to Heaven. For his family and brothers of the Missionaries of the Holy Spirit, I grieve. For Br. Robin, I mourn and rejoice. Many questions are raised in moments like these: Why did he have to die so needlessly? Why him? Why now? Why this way?

Fragile, fleeting, scarred. Our existence is short in this life before we pass to another. A grain of sand in time. It could be any one of us, through no fault of our own, to have been driving when we encountered unavoidable catastrophe. That it was Br. Robin, a faithful man who knew the saving power and love of our Lord, offers some comfort in the angst and loss.

We know not the hour of our death, but we do know this: God is faithful. Whether in sorrow or joy, God is faithful. The world makes no sense any other way. I cannot explain a death that seemingly has no reason. On a larger scale, I cannot understand why Hurricane Sandy caused immense destruction and took 38 lives last week. I am left with questions; many others are left with pain. But I know a man with answers; I know the Great Physician. In times like this, He is the Rock to which we must cling. "To whom else would we go, Lord? You have the words of eternal life."

Hilltop Sports

Recently I finished an article for The Catholic Sentinel, Portland's Archdiocesan newspaper. The Sentinel publishes a special issue on Mount Angel Seminary in conjunction with the Benefit Dinner we host in November. The issue portrays life on the hilltop in various ways. I was asked to write about sports and recreation on the hilltop. Here is the article:

A goal! Cheers and high fives follow with the usual congratulatory words. But this goal pleads to be commemorated.

A shout rises. Everyone turns. A fan, uninhibited, races down the sideline, yellow-and-white Vatican flag draped over his shoulders and rippling behind him amid his own roars of glee. Players glance and grin. That’s more like it. The celebration is on.

Mount Angel, three. Reed College, zero.

For the soccer team and their supporters at Mount Angel Seminary, this home victory on Oct. 7 highlighted the sports calendar. The fan, Phillip Shifflet, a seminarian from the Diocese of Orange, Calif., relished the victory as much as the players.

“Even the refs were smiling,” Shifflet said. “Even if I don’t play soccer, the fact that I’m there and cheering them on, that somebody cares and is there to support them, that’s one of the many reasons I would go down to the soccer field.”

The soccer team had not won in two years, said Joshua Keeney, a former coach, current player, and seminarian for the Diocese of Sacramento, Calif. Competitive disadvantages for Mount Angel are apparent: A smaller pool of student athletes, limited facilities, and a demanding academic and spiritual schedule not present at other institutions. Winning is rare for Mount Angel athletics, but formation in virtue is not.

“Sports offer opportunities to grow in community,” Volleyball Coach and Diocese of Honolulu seminarian Frank Villanueva said. “They are an avenue for men here to express themselves in healthy ways outside of the academic and spiritual aspects of the seminary. Sports enhance those opportunities.”

Winning makes for memories, as with Shifflet and the soccer team, but whether an outing ends in victory or defeat, lessons can be cultivated in patience, courage, compassion, forgiveness, and virtue, Dr. Andrew Cummings said.

Cummings is the Athletic Director and a player on the soccer team. As such, he oversees the $4,600 athletic budget, maintains facilities, and acts as an advocate for the student coaches in soccer, basketball, and volleyball, the newest team sport.

Sports among the Mount Angel hilltop community include lesser-celebrated pastimes, too: Table tennis on Friday afternoons draws a crowd. Diocese of Helena seminarians Alex Woelkers and Jacob Floch are aiming to complete a marathon in November, and seven seminarians ran the Mount Angel Oktoberfest five and 10-kilometer races in September. Other favorite seminarian activities include aikido, weight lifting, racquetball, cycling, tennis, pool, and the workout series P90X.

Hiking appeals to many. Fr. Ralph Recker, O.S.B., leads weekend hikes to Saddle Mountain, Table Rock, and nearby peaks. The reward for tired legs comes from vivid celebrations of the Mass overlooking the serene Cascade Mountain Range.

“One of my favorite sports moments is praying on top of a summit,” Recker said. “Especially if you have someone who didn’t think they’d make it initially. There is a feeling of conquest.”

The value of Mount Angel sports goes beyond athletes to fans and the greater hilltop fraternity, celebrating together conquests large and small, in virtue and in competition.

My Visit

"There is nothing on this earth more to be prized than true friendship."

THOMAS AQUINAS

I drove and drove and drove and drove and drove on Friday afternoon. Traffic came to a stop in Olympia, in Tacoma, and again in Seattle. I played music, found some podcasts, prayed the rosary, anything to pass the time. A four-and-a-half-hour trek became a six-hour trek. I hit rush hour in the Puget Sound at the wrong time. When my car gratefully came to a stop in the parking lot of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, I took a deep breath, grabbed my rain jacket, and eagerly walked inside.

Home again.

I love this parish. I love the people. I love my experience as a youth minister there, with triumphs, struggles and time to grow and pray. I love coming back. I love standing in the vestibule hugging so many people that are special, beautiful, and unique. I love this parish, and despite the drive and the three-month wait to be back, I loved my return trip last weekend.

My friends spoiled me and filled my cup. On Friday, Mass started just as I pulled up. A few hellos, and I took a seat at the back, trying unsuccessfully to blend in and not steal attention from the Sacred Mysteries. Unexpectedly, the Kyrie and Gloria Mass parts brought me to tears. God is merciful, and God gave me this community for the last four years to draw me closer to Him. The tears were an expression of how humbled, fortunate, and grateful I am to have such a loving God.

On Saturday, my friend Craig Lundberg was ordained with 21 other men as permanent deacons for the Archdiocese of Seattle. He and his wife Marti serve the church in myriad ways, so Craig's ordination fittingly culminates a four-year journey of preparation for the Sacrament of Holy Orders and begins a new chapter of ministry for them. The ordination drew a standing-room-only crowd to St. James Cathedral. The children's choir lifted our spirits to Heaven; the men being ordained and their wives joyously received Archbishop Sartain's blessing and laying on of hands; the Eucharist enlivened us; the Lord graciously welcomed us to the wedding feast.

Susie hosted me for the weekend in her seemingly quiet house, with her husband Francis gone to Melbourne, Australia on work and just her youngest son Kelly left at home. We prepared Saturday afternoon for the guests that would come that evening. I baked cookies and brownies for a potluck while Susie and Kelly went to the store for plates, plasticware, and pop. Though I don't get to do it much at seminary, cooking still strikes me as therapeutic, especially when I have solitude as I did Saturday afternoon. Quiet descended, ingredients hit the bowl, and I contemplated how blessed I am.

The afternoon turned to evening quickly. I made a brief stop at Craig and Marti's reception, departed for 5 p.m. Mass since I couldn't make it in the morning, and raced back to Susie's around 6:30 p.m. after all the guests had arrived. They saw me coming and made a human tunnel for my entrance like parents used to do at the end of soccer games for the players. My heart felt like it would burst.

Susie's counters and table were covered with potluck foods -- fried chicken, tomato and cucumber salad, Funfetti cookies, brownies, Jell-O, and goodies everywhere. I went from conversation to conversation, catching up and joking around, playing games and talking sports, snapping photos and retelling my experiences thus far. The night made me wish anew I could be in two places at once -- studying at seminary, living and ministering in this faith community.

Susie guessed about 50 people came Saturday night. Who am I that such an outpouring of love would be for me? I am immeasurably blessed. I did my best to listen to each person intently, to reconnect in the limited time we shared, though I wish it could have been longer.

On Sunday I met with Erin, the youth minister now working with the high schoolers, and we talked about the challenges and triumphs of the work. I expect she and the community will grow to love each other more as I did in my first year. She is diligent and full of ideas, good traits that will help bring about new ways of ministering to teens.

My Sunday also included a soccer game with my men's league team (they graciously let me step in for a game) and lunch with two friends from SPU, Jess and Melissa, with whom it's natural to pick up the conversation we left three months ago and feel like it never ended.

The time for me to depart arrived, but instead of dread at leaving so great an experience, my life overflowed with all the weekend's events. Coming back to Mount Angel made me appreciate the many people who offer an abundance of friendship and love. Community, while never perfect, should bring us the sort of comfort I found this weekend, especially as our lives weave tapestries of sorrow and joy. As God abides, so must we abide. Thankfully, I found people who abide, and I am so much richer for it.