The incredible value of one little life

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Vocational Discernment 101

Just last night I was having a conversation about vocations discernment in which I recalled the words of Matt Maher during a concert at Franciscan University ten years ago. He said, "Sometimes people make finding their vocation their god." It becomes this all-encompassing thing to obsess over and spend every waking moment contemplating.

Exhibit A: "An attractive guy/girl sat in front me during Mass today. Maybe I'm called to marriage! Or, maybe it was an invitation from God to give up this good for the greater good of priesthood/religious life."

So, it was rather good timing that The Culture Project reposted an article from July entitled, "Your Vocation is Not About You." Benjamin Mann has some thought-provoking insights into how we view our vocation (whether in the future or the present).

Our expectations are wrong. Consciously or not, we sometimes expect a vocation to solve all of our problems, answer all of our questions, and satisfy all of our desires. But these are not the purposes of a vocation. Discernment, likewise, does not consist in finding the choice that will meet those expectations.

Your vocation will not live up to these unrealistic hopes. Nothing in this world will answer all your questions, solve all your problems, or satisfy all your desires. These are impossible, immature ambitions, and the spiritual life consists largely in realizing that they are impossible and immature.

The purpose of life is the unitive devotional service of God, which includes the love of our neighbor (in whom God dwells). This is the real purpose of any vocation. Some forms of life, such as monasticism, are ordered directly to this end; other states of life are oriented toward it indirectly. But these are only different versions of the one human vocation: to love and serve God, and become one with him in Christ.

A vocation – any vocation – is a school of charity and a means of crucifixion. Your vocation is the means by which your self-serving ego will die in order to be resurrected as the servant and lover of God. This is all that we can expect; but this is everything – the meaning of life, all there really is.

My vocation is where I will learn to let go of my questions, carry the cross of my problems, and be mysteriously fulfilled even when I am not happy. We have some choice as to how we will undergo that process; we do not – so long as we abide in the grace of God – get to choose whether we will undergo it.

Read it all here.

Victims of the Lonely Revolution

With all of these depressing stories lately, it's time for some beauty. Anthony Esolen always writes with beauty, even if his subject matter is ugliness.

This time, he's penning about the Lonely Revolution (what we generally term the "sexual revolution) and its victims who are usually unmentioned. Victims like:

... children of divorce, who see their homes torn in two, because of a mother or a father who has shrugged away the vow of permanence. I see them straining to put a fine face on it, to protect the very parents who should have protected them, to squelch back their own tears so as not to hurt those who have hurt them. Who speaks for them, harried from pillar to post? Who pleads their case, whose parents conveniently assume that their children’s happiness must depend upon their own contentment, and not the other way around? Where is my Church’s apostolate for the children sawn in half, while the Solomons of our time looked the other way?

Or:

... the young people who do in fact follow the moral law and the teachings of the Church. Many of these are suffering intense loneliness. Have you bothered to notice? Have you considered all those young people who want to be married, who should be married, but who, because they will not play evil’s game, can find no one to marry? The girls who at age twenty-five and older have never even been asked on a date? The “men” languishing in a drawn-out adolescence? These people are among us; they are everywhere. Who gives them a passing thought? They are suffering for their faith, and no one cares. Do you care, leaders of my Church? Or do you not rather tacitly agree with their fellows who do the marital thing without being married? Do you not rather share that bemused contempt for the “old fashioned” purity they are trying to preserve?

It's a call to leaders of the Church, but really it's a call to all of us.  Read it all here, and say a prayer for those suffering from the Lonely Revolution.

A beautiful witness of the cross of SSA

I know sitting down to watch an hour-long television program on same-sex attraction isn't on most people's to-do list, but I can't recommend this interview with Daniel Mattson enough.  A couple of weeks ago I was able to watch Courage's new documentary, "Desire of the Everlasting Hills," which was really an excellent conversation with three people who have same-sex attraction telling their stories.  Each was compelling in their own way, and by the end I felt as if I knew them.  

Yesterday I was reading the blog, "Letters to Christopher," which I have perused before, and I realized that the Daniel of the blog is the Daniel in "Desire of the Everlasting Hills," and the same Daniel whose Crisis Magazine article I recently read and found a tremendously articulated summary of the Church's teaching.  So, after all that I couldn't help but watch his recent Life on the Rock appearance, which was shared on his blog.  I highly encourage you to as well:

Meeting Chiara Corbella Petrillo again

Almost two years ago, I shared the story of Chiara Corbella Petrillo, a young Italian wife and mother who, like St. Gianna Beretta Molla, gave her life for her son.  Her story is fascinating and heartbreaking, but little is available in English.  I just came across a new article, however, written by a woman who speaks both English and Italian, and who was present at a recent event with Chiara's husband.  

If you're interested in learning more about how a woman with a modern day Job experience responded with peace and joy, then be sure to read this.

Marry someone who will suffer with you ...

Sometime around the 1,000 post on Unshakeable Hope, the combination of other writing projects for Ruah Woods, a busy schedule and the third trimester of pregnancy led to a major decline in daily blog posting. Actually, more than a decline, blog writing has completely disappeared during the last month. But I had to pop over to share this thought-provoking guest post by John Janaro on Arleen Spenceley's blog.


So much of marriage advice is the same -- go out on regular dates with one another, give 100% (not 50/50), pray together, etc. These are certainly important things to hear, but John Janaro's reflections on the wedding vows bring a refreshing and challenging perspective that we don't often hear. For example:

"Sickness and health...." Most healthy young people barely think about these words when they say them. This is not about chicken soup and colds. People can get really sick. Spouses have to be primary caregivers. If you're a woman, you will have health issues that your husband won't understand. If the husband becomes disabled and can't work, he will be emotionally shattered in a way that he will have difficulty communicating to his wife, or even admitting to himself. Disability is something we've learned a lot about in our marriage. But everyone faces health problems. If nothing else, people get older and they change physically and emotionally. And they suffer. It's important to marry someone who will suffer with you, and with whom you are willing to suffer. There's nothing "romantic" about the daily, ordinary, often banal suffering that you will have to share. But it's there that your love grows as trust, commitment, and fidelity. But this is not a cold thing. A real and deep affection is born within this love. You begin to see the other person more deeply.

You can read the rest at Arleen Spenceley's blog here.

Bl. John Paul II

It's been 7 years today (at 3:37 pm, our time, I might add) since Pope John Paul II went to his Father's house.

Two years ago I wrote the following article for his fifth anniversary of death, which coincided with Good Friday. Much of it is still relevant today.

As the world watched, stomach in knots, tears streaming from sorrowful eyes, lips silently moving in prayer, faces lit by the glow of the television set, the cry of “Santo Subito!” was already heard. Whether we knew the Italian phrase or not, millions of people accompanying John Paul II on his journey home to the Father on April 2, 2005, considered him a saint.

Many of us predicted that our beloved late Holy Father would be beatified on the fifth anniversary of his death. Little did we realize that April 2, 2010, is Good Friday, a day hardly appropriate for recognizing a new saint. Rather than be disappointed, however, I think we should view this timing as a reminder of the meaning of John Paul’s life. Instead of focusing on the late Holy Father, we will be devoted to the One to whom John Paul pointed during his life and death.

Images and video footage of John Paul in the early years of his pontificate show a vibrant, strong man, lifting high the papal crucifix and proclaiming the message of Christ’s love for the world. As time went on, one can see that John Paul gradually moved from lifting the cross to leaning on it for support.

The suffering of John Paul’s life, and especially in his pontificate was not without great significance. Most noteworthy are four key signposts of suffering through which he taught the world what it means to give our lives to Jesus Christ out of love for Him and love for our brothers and sisters in Christ.

On October 16, 1978, Karol Wojtya’s world changed in an instant. As the cardinals approached him to ask if he would accept the responsibility the Holy Spirit had inspired them to choose him for – to lead the Church by serving her – he realized life would never be the same. His beloved Poland, his friendships, his ski trips, his ability to control his own schedule could not be the same anymore. And in that instant, he had to choose whether or not to accept God’s will for his life.

Notice that this decision did not involve him alone. Can we even imagine how different the Church and the world would be today if John Paul had responded, “No, thanks.” He heard God’s call and he accepted. His yes to Jesus Christ’s request that he be the 263rd Peter entailed adventures, sufferings, joys and decisions he could not possibly have known or foreseen in that moment.

In our lives too, we are met with moments of encounter with Jesus Christ, who asks us to give Him everything – even what we don’t know or realize might be entailed in our gift of ourselves to the Lord. These moments of Christ asking us to give Him all can be frightening or exciting, but we can rest assured, that like He did for John Paul, the Lord is always standing right by us, holding our hands to lead us along His path for our lives.

On May 13, 1981, John Paul was about to give another general audience as part of his Theology of the Body messages and to announce the founding of the John Paul II Institute for Studies on Marriage and Family. He was shot. He nearly died.

Persecution and suffering – though not necessarily assassination attempts – are part of our journey in following Christ. Many times they signal that we are exactly where God wants us. If God leads us on a particular path, then Satan will be hard-pressed to trip us in an effort to frustrate our desire to follow God’s plan. In these moments too, we can take the suffering offered to us and return it, in all of its pain and strain and offer it as a gift to God.

Above all, this requires trust that God remains with us and will not leave us orphans. Whether we can see clearly or not what God’s purpose is in allowing our suffering, our challenge is to focus on Him and surrender ourselves to His care, knowing that “all things work for the good of those who love Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:28).

Trusting that suffering is not meaningless but can be part of God’s plan for our lives and the salvation of the world can be seen in the third signpost.

In 1994, the world was dangling on the precipice of falling headlong into the culture of death, as the United Nations’ Cairo Conference on Population and Development prepared to meet, with potentially disastrous consequences for families. John Paul was adamant in his defense of the family and of life. It was during this battle that he fell and required hip surgery that was not adequately performed. During the same year, he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s.

On the Sunday following his hip replacement, John Paul addressed the Church and the world, explaining that he saw his suffering as a gift:

“I understood that I have to lead Christ’s Church into this third millennium by prayer, by various programs, but I saw that this is not enough: she must be led by suffering, by the attack thirteen years ago and by this new sacrifice. Why now, why this, why in this Year of the Family? Precisely because the family is under attack. The Pope has to be attacked, the Pope has to suffer, so that every family and the world may see that there is … a higher Gospel: the Gospel of suffering, by which the future is prepared, the third millennium of families, of every family and of all families” (Witness to Hope, 721).

Certainly we can all learn from this lesson. In the midst of our ministries, or family life, or career challenges, we can transform our difficulties by “offering it up,” allowing the suffering to be meaningful and a blessing in our particular circumstances. We can offer our sufferings as the fertilization for the soil of the conversion of those around us, in whatever capacity God may call us to intercede.

And for the remaining 11 years of his life, John Paul suffered. He suffered physically as his tremors became stronger, his face began to lose its power of free expression and he was no longer able to walk. He suffered emotionally from the loss of his physical abilities, from the ache of having to decrease travel and interaction with his flock. Above all he suffered spiritually – he suffered for Christ, for us.

John Paul was our Peter – the man whom Jesus Christ chose to lead His Church. It is no coincidence then that John Paul was a living witness of this encounter between Christ and Peter:

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?" He said to him, "Yes, Lord; you know that I love you." He said to him, "Feed my lambs." A second time he said to him, "Simon, son of John, do you love me?" He said to him, "Yes, Lord; you know that I love you." He said to him, "Tend my sheep." He said to him the third time, "Simon, son of John, do you love me?" Peter was grieved because he said to him the third time, "Do you love me?" And he said to him, "Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you." Jesus said to him, "Feed my sheep. Truly, truly, I say to you, when you were young, you girded yourself and walked where you would; but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will gird you and carry you where you do not wish to go." (This he said to show by what death he was to glorify God.) And after this he said to him, "Follow me." (John 21:15-19)

This brings us to the final witness of John Paul’s life – his death. Everything happened so quickly in that Easter week of 2005. With peace, surrender and great love, John Paul offered his life, lovingly lived, back to the Father, in the final act of surrender in death.

The fact that the fifth anniversary of John Paul’s death coincides with Good Friday is another reminder that the purpose of the late Holy Father’s life was to point the world to the love of Jesus Christ. What a profound witness for each of us, all called to offer the entirety of our lives, and finally our death, in surrender to God who has given us everything and who loves us beyond measure.

John Paul lived and died in this way – as we are called to as well – because of what happened on Good Friday. That our God became man because He loves you so immensely that He gave everything in order to offer you a life of communion with Him forever.

Let’s pray this Good Friday that we can offer our lives as a gift to the Lord. We can be assured that John Paul will be interceding for us.

Quote book

"If God were to show a soul all the suffering that life has in store for it, the soul would die on the spot. If God were to show a soul all the joys it would experience in life, it would die on the spot. God knows this, and he measures things accordingly. The soul does not know, but it abandons itself in God who loves it." -- Chiara Lubich

Quote book

"The cross is like a touch of eternal love upon the most painful wounds of man's earthly existence ..." -- Bl. John Paul II ("Dives in Misericordia #8).

Quote book

"Those who share in the sufferings of Christ preserve in their own sufferings a very special particle of the infinite treasure of the world's Redemption, and can share this treasure with others." -- Bl. John Paul II

"Hidden Sacrifice of the Priesthood"

Fr. Kyle Schnippel has some great thoughts on the sacrifices of families of priests and religious.

However, there is a sometimes hidden cost of responding to a priestly or religious vocation that becomes quite evident this time of year, but not necessarily for the priest or religious, but for his or her family. Because of our responsibilities and assignments, we often miss family gatherings during the holidays, or when we get there, we are so tired and worn down, all we want to do is sleep; yet nieces and nephews, brothers and sisters, parents are all excited to see you and want to hear about what we have been doing.

But especially for members of religious communities, even this is not an option. Often stationed in houses around the globe, families have to make due with a two week ‘home visit’ at different points during the year. In between, hand written letters are often the only means of communication that goes between family and the professed. While the evident joy can temper some of the feelings of loss in the rest of the family, there is still something missing when that son or daughter’s chair remains empty during Christmas Dinner.

Read it all at his blog.

The adventure of life

College seminarian Sebastian, and friend of Unshakeable Hope, recently pondered the meaning of life and death on his blog. Here's a piece:

My very existence (as the Sebastian people know and love) is a contradiction.
I want to die for glory.
I want to live forever.
I want to be Peter Pan. Any one who knows me well knows this: I have an avid fear of growing old. Gerascophobia. Not so much a fear of dying, necessarily. Every one's afraid of dying (any one who tells you differently is trying to get your vote next November.) But I want to be always young and to have fun...to not suffer.
But we have to suffer. There is no love without suffering.
And if I do not suffer, I will life forever. And if I live forever, I can never die for glory. And if I never live with love and die for glory, namely God's, then I can never achieve eternal happiness and immortal life in Heaven with Him.

Read it all here.

Quote book

"The end for which we are created invites us to walk a road that is surely sown with a lot of thorns, but it is not sad; through even the sorrow, it is illuminated by joy." -- Bl. Pier Giorgio Frassati

Seeing God's plan in the cross

It's a great week to ponder the cross in our lives. We had the Exaltation of the Cross on Wednesday, and Our Lady of Sorrows yesterday. It's fitting that I came across a beautiful reflection from Above the Norm blogger Sebastian.

Here's a piece of it, but read it all here.

For those of you who don’t actually know me, I have entered the Bishop Simon Bruté College Seminary and am discerning my possible vocation as a Roman Catholic priest for the Archdiocese of Cincinnati.

It is the first time I have ever been away from home for longer than a week.

And I have been quite homesick.

But out of my suffering, it appears the Lord has worked in His usual, mysterious way. In my prayer, desolate though it was at the beginning, I came to this remarkable conclusion.

My grandfather moved from Lima, Peru to come to the United States to work as a physician. Initially, he had not intended on staying. That was in 1961.

Having just married my grandmother weeks earlier, my grandfather left everything he knew in his home to come here. He had to accustom himself to a different culture, a different language, a different climate. Nothing felt the same, sounded the same, tasted the same, or was the same. My grandmother did not join him until another six months had passed. Aside of my great uncle, with whom my grandfather lived, he was alone.

But he stayed. He endured.

And his endeavor resulted in the birth of two of my aunts, an uncle, and my mother. By that time, he had bills to pay, and a family to care for. He could not leave. That was all by 1970.

Somewhere in that time, my grandfather had returned to Peru but once, to visit his father. My grandfather knew that would be the last time he would ever see him.One year later, he died.

Finally, in 1978, my grandfather, having lived as a legal resident for 17 years, became a citizen of the United States of America.

Several years later, my mother met my father, and for some strange reason, she decided to marry him.

And several years after that, five to be exact, their life was made complete with the birth of their third and most consistently difficult child (also, the most proud and likely to write a blog post such as this.)

So, you see, I am the result of destiny.

My grandfather never had to stay in Cincinnati. He could’ve returned to his home anytime he wanted to.

My mother never had to marry my father. She could’ve remained home awhile longer.

And I, myself, never had to come here. I could’ve gone to school back home in Cincinnati. And even now, I do not have to stay here.

But, I owe my existence to the fact that God made man and made man to endeavor and endure the sufferings that come only as blessings in disguise. I owe my existence to a brave, young Peruvian who loved his family too much to leave them and, as a result, brought about the chain reaction that would end in my birth.

And in that thought, I am comforted.

To know that God always has been watching over me, even before I was a thought in any mind but His, and to know that He will always watch over me until the end of days, and to know that He has blessed me with as strong a man as my grandfather and my father and my grandmother and my mother and all of my family who I know will always be here to do the work of His hands, His will…and in that, I am comforted.

Our Lady of Sorrows

Yesterday was the Exaltation of the Cross. Today is Our Lady of Sorrows. It is certainly not accidental that they are back-to-back.

In his encyclical, "Redemptoris Mater," John Paul II portrays with aching emotion the journey of faith Mary undertook.

"At the foot of the Cross Mary shares through faith in the shocking mystery of this self- emptying. This is perhaps the deepest "kenosis" of faith in human history. Through faith the Mother shares in the death of her Son, in his redeeming death; but in contrast with the faith of the disciples who fled, hers was far more enlightened. On Golgotha, Jesus through the Cross definitively confirmed that he was the "sign of contradiction" foretold by Simeon. At the same time, there were also fulfilled on Golgotha the words which Simeon had addressed to Mary: "and a sword will pierce through your own soul also."

Yes, truly "blessed is she who believed"! These words, spoken by Elizabeth after the Annunciation, here at the foot of the Cross seem to re-echo with supreme eloquence, and the power contained within them becomes something penetrating. From the Cross, that is to say from the very heart of the mystery of Redemption, there radiates and spreads out the prospect of that blessing of faith It goes right hack to "the beginning." and as a sharing in the sacrifice of Christ-the new Adam-it becomes in a certain sense the counterpoise to the disobedience and disbelief embodied in the sin of our first parents. Thus teach the Fathers of the Church and especially St. Irenaeus, quoted by the Constitution Lumen Gentium: "The knot of Eve's disobedience was untied by Mary's obedience; what the virgin Eve bound through her unbelief, the Virgin Mary loosened by her faith." In the light of this comparison with Eve, the Fathers of the Church-as the Council also says-call Mary the "mother of the liing" and often speak of "death through Eve, life through Mary."

In the expression "Blessed is she who believed," we can therefore rightly find a kind of "key" which unlocks for us the innermost reality of Mary, whom the angel hailed as "full of grace." If as "full of grace" she has been eternally present in the mystery of Christ, through faith she became a sharer in that mystery in every extension of her earthly journey. She "advanced in her pilgrimage of faith" and at the same time, in a discreet yet direct and effective way, she made present to humanity the mystery of Christ. And she still continues to do so. Through the mystery of Christ, she too is present within mankind. Thus through the mystery of the Son the mystery of the Mother is also made clear."

May Our Lady of Sorrows stand at the cross with us, as we grow in obedience of faith to her Son.

Happy birthday, Kenosis!

Today is the first birthday of Kenosis: Teen Disciples for Love and Life. What a year! It is not accidental that our birthday is on the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross. The model of Kenosis is the self-emptying of Christ, which was a fruitful gift of self.

And a birthday gift of a good quote on suffering and the cross is in order. That's not to say that the first year of Kenosis has been a cross! But on this day when we reflect on the joy of embracing the cross leading to the resurrection, it seems like a fitting reminder --

"Suffering is like a kiss that Jesus hanging from the cross bestows on persons whom He loves in a special way. Because of this love He wants to associate them in the work of the redemption." -- St. Bonaventure

Jason Evert - Love and the Cross

Called to be More highlights -- #15

Highlight #15 – Seeds leading to unknown fruit.

After two weeks of unpacking the lessons learned from Called to be More, it’s time to wrap up with the overarching lesson and highlight. The most exciting aspect of the pilgrimage is that we have yet to know the fruits that God has in mind. The readings for Mass on our final day, July 10, were extraordinarily appropriate. The Gospel was the parable of the sower, which reminded us that our week had been a time of planting seeds, which God will water and allow to bear fruit in His timing.

The week of walking was certainly an adventure, but it’s a reminder that all of life is to be an adventure too. It struck me at various points during the walk that any of these young men could be ordained some day or married someday. Any one of these young women could be professing religious vows one day or walking down the aisle one day. I’m confident that whatever their vocation, God will use the time during the Called to be More pilgrimage as a moment when He stirred in their hearts a deeper calling.

We also don’t know what seeds were planted with others – with pastors we met, parishioners we conversed with, strangers we walked past. We don’t know who read the back of our shirts. We don’t know who read about our story in the Enquirer. We don’t know was touched by a simple pilgrim’s smile.

What we do know is that we can be confident that God will take our offering of the pilgrimage – the suffering, the joy, the reflections, the prayers, the silence, the conversations, the sacrifices, the uncertainties, the confidence, the footsteps – and allow them to bear great fruit. What a joy to watch it blossom!

Called to be More highlights -- #1

The “Called to be More” vocations walk is over. Maybe it would be more accurate to say that the walking 150 miles portion is over. The greatest aspect of the pilgrimage, in my opinion, is that its fruits remain largely a mystery. Still, there are many wonderful things to celebrate and reflect upon as we unpack (both literally and figuratively). In the next several days, expect to see some of the highlights from the journey.

Highlight #1: Joy in suffering.

This seemed to be a theme echoed by all of the pilgrims, teens and adults alike. To see a group of 15 people hobbling around with taped ankles, knee braces, Band-Aid-covered blistered feet, heat rash and sunburn, yet still smiling, laughing and joking was incredible. It wasn’t a shallow happiness either. The pilgrims were authentically joyful. There was a joy in viewing suffering through the “eloquence of the resurrection,” as Blessed John Paul II referred to it. There was a joy in knowing that God’s love was greater than any blister or shin split. There was a joy in knowing that God will transform the sufferings offered to Him, allowing them to bear great fruit. There was a joy in realizing that embracing the sufferings of the day united each pilgrim to the cross and to Christ in a greater way. And there was a joy in knowing that the suffering was a shared experience, a bond within the community.

"Exploring Euthanasia through the Arts"

Jack Kevorkian's death has focused the world's attention on the topic of euthanasia. Barbara Nicolosi reflects on the media's treatment of the topic in her piece, "Exploring Euthanasia through the Arts."

To whet your appetite:

If we lose the fight on euthanasia, we lose our souls. By removing suffering and the meaning of suffering from our culture, we make the final step in denying and defying our creature-hood. Once again, the seductive lie of Eden will trip us up: “If you will do this thing, you shall be like God.”

And:

If we would save our culture from this latest onslaught, we believers need to adopt the spirit of a new crusade. Christians who have been blessed with means must shift attention and support to intelligent efforts to combat support for euthanasia in our culture. Musicians, storytellers, and filmmakers of faith must find new ways to communicate the truth of human dignity and the value of suffering. In this fight, it may be that our best weapon is the power of beauty.

Read it all here.