Back at the Ranch

I love being home!

It's been a tremendous blessing to be back in the beautiful suburb of Coon Rapids, among the people of Epiphany Catholic Church. As one of the good deacons from the parish noted, "most parishes have times when they 'slow down' a little bit. That is not Epiphany." I couldn't have said it better myself! The parish is so busy, so full of energy and life from dawn to dusk, making it the perfect place for a seminarian to spend not one, but two summers!

I am particularly grateful for the opportunity to spend both my summers (between Theology II and III, and between III and IV) at the same parish. Many of my classmates have been assigned different parishes in their respective dioceses', which means, of course, that they have to learn all about their new assignment - moving into a new rectory, meeting new parishioners, and learning new ropes. From day 1 back at the Big E, I have felt very strongly connected to the wonderful folks here at the parish. I had to take a peek at the parish directory to brush up on some names, but, by and large, I've been able to pick up where I left off! From spending time with the young families and their beautiful children, to visiting the parish nursing home and local hospitals, to tossing the disk around with the high-schoolers, there have been plenty of wonderful ways in which the Lord has already helped me to grow in these first few weeks of the summer.

I have received a great amount of joy and peace from my visits to the local hospitals - Unity Hospital in Fridley, and Mercy Hospital in Coon Rapids - under the guidance of Fr. Peter, a priest of the Archdiocese who lives at the Epiphany rectory but serves full time in both those places. I have learned a great deal from him about how to compassionately and effectively minister to the sick and the suffering, wherever they might be in their own physical distress or in their spiritual lives. I have learned that every room the priest enters is (at least for a time) the home to an individual person, who is their for his or her own specific reason, and who carries with himself or herself so many different fears, anxieties, and desires. There is nothing more important than meeting that particular person at that exact place in which they find themselves, and then simply allowing the Lord to work through me in whatever way he sees fit. It might be a short visit and exchange of pleasantries, a longer sharing of joys and struggles, a moment of prayer in the presence of family and friends, or perhaps a chance to bring the person the grace of Holy Communion. Whatever the need might be, I have found such visits to be a continually humbling experience in my own spiritual life, since each of these encounters shows how little I really have to offer the person, but how much Jesus Christ has to offer - and indeed, wants to offer - to each person whom I encounter. Upon leaving each patient's room, I have been trying to take the advice of my priest mentor by calling the person to mind, recalling our conversation, their feelings and fears, and carrying this person with me throughout the rest of the day, especially in my praying of the Holy Rosary and in my recitation of the Liturgy of the Hours. I know that there is no greater gift I can give my sick brothers and sisters than the gift of my continued prayers!

Peace to you all. Please keep me in your prayers!

In Christ,
Colin

To the Land of 10,000 Lakes!

Dear friends,

At the end of another academic year, I can say with great joy that it is time to come home! I will be back in Minnesota for about two and a half months, months which will be some of my last before ordination to the diaconate in September! I will be living and working again at Epiphany parish in Coon Rapids, where I was blessed to meet so many wonderful people during my first trip home last summer. My hope for this summer is that I can dive in even more to the daily life of the parish priest, in everything from morning meditation, to spending time with folks after Mass, to hanging out with the youth, to making sick calls in the hospital. I know that these will be such precious weeks, because, at this time next year, I'll be doing all of it for real!

By way of summarizing my 7th year of seminary formation, I can say that it was a time of such profound - and often challenging! - growth. Every year has certainly challenged me in a variety of ways, and, as I have come along further on this journey toward the priesthood, I have come to understand more and more that God has had a particular plan in mind for each of those years. This year, in particular, I believe that the Lord has given me the opportunity to love him more deeply for his own sake! He's been stretching me and forming me into a deeper realization that this journey is not about what I will get out of it, nor even about my own plans and expectations, but rather, it is entirely about the Lord and his Kingdom. This year, as I have come ever closer to diaconate ordination, I have come to realize that I'll never quite have it all figured out, even when I feel like I ought to. And that's just completely okay, because the Lord is so full of surprises, and living for him is always more amazing than I can ever ask or imagine.

In a beautiful which always seems to mark the Lord's work, it has been amazing to look back on this year and see his hand guiding me through everything. The year certainly was not the "final-year-before-diaconate" victory lap that I may have expected, and, indeed, I have come to see how much formation I still needed to undergo! For that, I am incredibly grateful to him, to the priests in charge of my formation, and, of course, to my brothers, who have stuck with me through it all.

Saying goodbye to my brothers in the last few days had a particular heaviness to it - not a heaviness caused by sadness, but caused rather by the fact that, next time I will see most of these men, we will be going to practices on diaconate ministry, signing formal Oaths of Fidelity to the Church, and going on retreat to prepare for the grace of ordination! I know this summer will go quickly, as it always seems to do, and when it's all said and done, ordination will be right around the corner. So, needless to say, I'm hoping to enjoy every moment of this summer.

And, as a bonus, maybe I'll get to see these guys too! (I certainly didn't expect them to still be in first place by the time I got back!!)

God bless!
-Colin

The Faith of the Polish People, Part 1

Dear friends,

He is risen! I hope it has been a blessed Easter for you all. Hard to believe that Easter Week #5 has already almost begun...

I wanted to share with you all a couple highlights from my Easter travels. This year, we had two weeks of vacation during the Easter break. We get two weeks of travel time every other year for Easter break, while, on the other years, we celebrate Holy Week in house, and then travel during Easter week. So, this year, we had a pretty nice long break!

My Holy Week travels took me to Poland with two of my classmates, where we looked forward to celebrating the mysteries of Our Lord's Passion, Death, and Resurrection. I had been to Poland once before - during my study abroad semester in 2013, so I was excited to both revisit some familiar places, as well as see something new. I've also learned a little bit more about my own Polish ancestry in the last few years, which has given me an even greater appreciation for the magnificent history of this beautiful country. For instance, I learned just this past year that I do have another priest in the family! He was my great-great-great uncle, a Fr. Stanislaus Tyblewski, a diocesan priest of the Archdiocese of Gniezno, in Western Poland. He was very young when he died in the early 1920's (he was only in his mid-30's!), but he had 10 years of priestly ministry, and was a vicar in a little town called Dziewierzewo. It's pretty cool to think that, even though we are 4 generations apart, "Uncle Father Stan" and I will share the same priesthood of Jesus Christ for all eternity! I hope that I will get to see him one day.

Unfortunately, all the places associated with my uncle were pretty far out of the way, and, since my license had just expired, renting a car wasn't an option! So maybe I will get to Dziewierzewo on another trip...For the time being however, our travels took us to Warsaw and Krakow, the two largest cities in Poland, both with their own huge share of culture and history.

Downtown Warsaw...looks a lot like any downtown metro!

Warsaw was our first stop. I had heard mixed review about the city from those who had been there before, many of whom said that it lacked a lot of the charm and history of Krakow. This was true in a certain sense, especially since Warsaw itself was completely leveled during the Nazi occupation and the Warsaw Uprising of 1944. But it was still an amazing place! There are so many lovely old cities in Europe, but sometimes, you can't beat a day of walking around among skyscrapers, popping into a Starbucks, riding a sleek subway train, or ducking into a pretty little downtown church, tucked between two state-of-the-art buildings.

The churches in Warsaw were really quite lovely, but it wasn't so much the art and architecture which struck us, but the simple fact that these churches were full! Unlike so many other countries in Europe which can boast some stunning Catholic churches (Italy, France, Germany, Belgium), the churches of Poland were almost jam-packed sometimes with people coming in and out for prayer or Confession. The Sacrament of Confession, in particular, struck us profoundly. Every church we entered had at least 4 or 5 priests sitting in the confessionals, with no fewer than 3 or 4 dozen people waiting in line - elderly folks, kids, college-aged students, moms & dads - everyone was there to confess their sins before Easter began! It was such an edifying sight.

And that's just one side of the church!

Many churches had Adoration throughout the day.

Everywhere we went, the culture and lifestyle of Poland seemed deeply faithful. There was a always a beautiful reverence at Mass; there were young priests and even seminarians all over the place; and, to complement this faith, there was a deep kindness present in all those whom we met throughout our journeys. This phenomenon of the faith of the Polish people would continue to surprise and edify us as we moved along toward Easter. It also gave my classmates and me a lot to think about and pray about. Why should we, as future priests, not strive to bring the people of our parishes to this same deep devotion and love for the Sacraments? Why should we not preach about Adoration and love for the Blessed Sacrament when we're back home and seeking to proclaim the Gospel? The faith of the Polish people was a great challenge to us, because it showed us that we've always got to be working to bring about deeper conversion in peoples' hearts. And, as we saw in those Polish churches, such conversion of heart is certainly possible!

While in Warsaw, we also had the chance to visit a heroic priest-martyr who has become a good friend of mine, by the name of Blessed Jerzy Popiełuszko. Father Jerzy was a priest of the Archdiocese of Warsaw, who led the Polish people in peaceful, God-centered resistance to the Communist dictatorship during the late-70's and early-80's. He was a zealous shepherd of his people, and his efforts as a man of communion and peace were especially powerful during his years as the chaplain to the steel workers of Warsaw. His "Masses for the Homeland," which he celebrated outside his parish in north Warsaw with the intention of promoting peace and Solidarity among Polish workers and families, became one of the most significant factors which led to the fall of Communism in Poland. Because of his beautiful ministry among the Polish people, and because of their great love for their priest, Father Jerzy was kidnapped by the Communists in October of 1984 in the middle of the night. He was beaten unconscious, and drowned in the Vistula River, with the only sign of alarm raised the next morning, when he did not arrive for the daily 7:00 am Mass at his parish. Father Jerzy's life, ministry, and death, were an inspiration to millions, and served to bring the Polish people even closer together around the Church which they already loved so dearly. He witnessed to the power of non-violent protest, and appealed to Christian love as the great victor over sin, and this made him a powerful instrument in the Lord's hand for bringing about the salvation and the freedom of the Polish people.

Being suburban Warsaw at Fr. Jerzy's parish, St. Stanislaus, was very surreal. Around the church, for miles on end, was a quiet, peaceful residential area, with cars parked on the street, children running around with their parents, and little cafes on every street corner. Then there was the church itself: a beautiful but modest neo-Romanesque structure with two spires rising above the line of trees and houses. The entire area seemed to be under the shadow of those spires, and, as we walked slowly toward the parish, I could feel that Fr. Jerzy's pastoral presence was still very real there, in this neighborhood which was still very much his own. Today, St. Stan's, while serving as a shrine to Blessed Jerzy Popiełuszko, is still a "normally functioning parish," taking care of all the souls in that Warsaw neighborhood. And yet, something very special about that parish is that its erstwhile pastor is one step away from sainthood, a man known all around the world as one of the greatest priestly witnesses of the last century. It got me to thinking: the Catholic parish is a really spectacular place, isn't it? To think of what happens there, day after day; how the people of God assemble there around the altar, with their priest leading them in prayer...The parish really is a place where saints are made! They might not be saints who garner attention for fighting against a totalitarian state, but those parochial saints are the ones who seek to do God's will day after day, men and women who come to their local church to receive Christ's Body and Blood, and to experience his forgiveness. The local parish is truly a place where saints are born, and this shouldn't come as a surprise to us!

Up to Speed

Dear friends,

Hard to believe that we are already immersed in the drama of Holy Week! Lent always seems to go by so quickly, especially here in Rome, where the daily station church pilgrimages keep us moving from one place to another! It was a blessing to revisit those ancient and baroque churches once again, and to see the beautiful dedication of so many English-speaking pilgrims and students who also chose to take part in that wonderful tradition of celebrating Mass in a different Roman church every week!

I could never get tired of these early-morning walks!

San Lorenzo in Panisperna, the place where St. Lawrence was martyred by the Romans.

Additionally, there have been some big moments related to ordination plans! Just a couple of weeks ago, my classmates and I were given the green light to write our official petitions for Holy Orders, addressed to our individual bishops! It was quite a surreal experience being able to write about my desire for ordination, and my confirmation that I am, indeed, choosing this path freely, and out of a love for God and His Church. It really struck me that this commitment which I want to make will encompass the rest of my life! God is very good to me, and it is so amazing to think that He has called me to serve Him in this way.

Over the course of the next several weeks, my classmates and I will be having our formal faculty evaluations, a 45-minute long meeting in which we sit down with all 8 priests on the seminary's external formation faculty for a conversation about our own readiness of Sacred Orders, and our freedom in making this choice. It's after that meeting that the faculty then sends on their official recommendation to the seminarian's bishop! So, it's a pretty big deal. But we're all looking forward to these "evals", because it's never burdensome to speak about that deep longing which we have had on our hearts for so long, namely, the longing for the priesthood! Please keep all of us in your prayers as we go forward in this process.

Finally, I would like to share with you something that several of us at the NAC were recently spending a great deal of time on: our annual spring play! This year, we performed a stage rendition of G.K. Chesterton's novel The Man Who Was Thursday. I had read the book a couple years back and, despite the very Chesterton-esque obscurity of some of the main themes, had enjoyed it a great deal. So I was pleasantly surprised when we found out that we'd be performing it this year! The play certainly retained some of its Chesterton-esque obscurity, which left us all scratching our heads a little bit when it was all said and done. But it was also very entertaining, especially in that we were all playing some pretty ridiculous characters! For my part, I played a fairly angsty anarchist poet named Julian Gregory, who, while having some comical lines and mannerisms, is essentially the principal villain of the play. I had to get pretty angry at times! (Not to mention the fact that my hair had to be dyed bright, bright red...) Digging deep into Gregory's irate, accusatory emotions was certainly not an easy task, but I was so humbled by the way the character was received by the audience! I think people appreciated seeing me in that sort of a role, and they seemed to be able to understand the character a lot too. The whole experience truly opened me up to that great wonder of theater which Pope St. John Paul II loved so much, both before and after he became a priest. Through the magic of theater, it really is possible to raise people's minds and hearts to God!

I'll share some photos from the play:
(These are all credit to PNAC photography, and can be accessed via the PNAC photostream here:https://www.flickr.com/photos/pnac/albums/72157678694945154)

I hope and pray that you and your loved ones have a blessed Holy Week! Please keep me in your prayers, and be assured of mine as well. God love you!

-Colin Jones

A League of Our Own

When it comes to many aspects of seminary life, a good rule of thumb might be: if it's worth doing, it's worth over-doing. When you have a house which is packed to the gills with men from all sorts of backgrounds and experiences, men with countless different talents and specialties, it's not too infrequent to be pretty blown away by the kinds of things that group of seminarians can pull off.

One area where this is constantly on display is in the realm of sports. Whether it's a guy who was at one point being scouted by a Major League Baseball club, or a man who turned down a full-ride track scholarship at a D-I school to enter seminary, you see some pretty amazing things on the court, the track, and the field!

At SJV, the sport which most consistently inundated our lives was, of course, football. Whether it was playing a pick-up game of flag out on the quad, or cheering our throats out for the Tommies on Saturday afternoons at UST, football was a big part of our yearly routine, and, of course if cheering for a football team was worth doing, then it was worth over-doing. Thus, the SJVer's basically become the Tommie football superfans, which was always really cool!

Over in Rome, things are a bit different. While we all still manage to follow the big American sports such as football, baseball, hockey, and basketball, there's another sport which is pretty tough to ignore if you're living anywhere on the European continent, and that, of course, is soccer. Or, as the Italians call it, calcio (cal-cho). Being a part of the soccer culture over here is a blast! Following the local squad (AS Roma is mine) and keeping an eye on all the various leagues around the continent can be a bit time-consuming, but we all need a good distraction every know and then, right? And besides, if it's worth doing, it's worth over-doing!

But the true over-doing doesn't come so much in heading down to a local pizzeria to watch some Italian soccer. No, in true seminarian form, it was decided that the best way to participate in the soccer culture of Europe was for seminarians to have a league of their own! Behold, the Clericus Cup, an annual 16-team soccer league which pits seminarians from all over the city of Rome against each other in a battle to decide the kings of the clerical pitch (and who will win that tasteful trophy!) The tournament even has its own Wikipedia page, of which one of my favorite lines is: "While some press outlets hinted that the Church hoped to offer a brand of football free of football hooliganism, the reality is that play on the field is intensely competitive." Haha!

 If the idea of a bunch of seminarians playing a World Cup-esque tournament against each other seems a little ridiculous, that's because it totally is. But hey, if it's worth doing, it's worth over-doing, right?

The squads come from all over the world, and this usually makes for some pretty competitive play. For instance, there is a team of African seminarians (from the College right next to ours), a team of Brasilians, some with men from all over Central and South America, Ukrainians, and a few teams that have players from all over the world. Then, of course, there's the NAC! While the U.S. certainly isn't known for its soccer prowess on a worldwide stage, we are consistently one of the more competitive teams in the tournament, and I'm always proud to cheer on the boys in red-white-and-blue!

The season begins every year in late-February/early-March, and continues through May. The each team plays a sort of round-robin with the 3 other teams in their group, with the top two teams in each group reaching the knockout round. The North American Martyrs (our full team name) won the league in back-to-back years in 2012 and 2013, so I'm hoping that I'll get to have a taste of such glory during my years here at the College! Regardless of the outcome on the field every Saturday, however, we always have a wonderful time at the games, as we scream and cheer and do everything an obnoxious American would do at a game which he doesn't fully understand. And that's what it's all about. Because if it's worth doing, it's worth over-doing!

I'll include a little write-up I did for the Martyrs after our first win of the season last Saturday. I'm hoping to remain a "beat writer" of sorts for them this year. I hope you enjoy!

On Match Day 1, Martyrs Ride Dominant First Half to Victory

by Colin Jones

Rome, Italy – While the winds blustered steadily through the trees surrounding the pitch at Roma’s Campo Pio XI, the North American Martyrs battened down the hatches for a resounding 3-0 victory over the Collegio Spagnolo on Match Day 1 of the 2017 Clericus Cup season. If there were any jitters in the bowels of the young American squad, they dissipated quickly, as the red-white-and-blue scored early and often, punishing their Group A opponents for 3 tallies before the intermission.

Returning NAC footballers Andrew Auer and Bernardo Rios led the early charge, with Auer capitalizing on an early chance, picking up a goal in just his first appearance as a striker since Fr. Danielle Russo’s taking of the American reigns. To say that Auer seemed comfortable in his forward role would be an understatement, as the Missourian ran the Spanish defense ragged from whistle to whistle.

Rios doubled the deficit a few minutes later, when a sloppy clean-up job in front of the net left the Bolivian with an ideal chance. Rios, whose superb touch and reliable cannon will be needed by the Martyrs at every stage of the tournament, seemed in prime form in the early goings, although a tweaked hamstring later in the contest forced his early exit. As of the final whistle, trainers said that the NAC midfielder seemed to be in good condition.

Russo’s coaching staff certainly deserves additional credit for a strong showing from the Martyrs’ rookies. The NAC’s final first-half dagger was buried when Will Frei landed a masterful cross on the waiting foot of fellow rookie Matthew Goldammer, who expertly redirected the ball past the keeper to stretch the lead. Frei looked calm and collected in his midfield post, and, alongside with sophomore namesake Will Nyce, kept the Martyrs in steady control of the contest. Goldammer, for his part, would assault the net again in the second-half, chipping a near-perfect ball over the gloves, but unfortunately finding metal instead of twine.

In their own end, the Martyrs’ veteran back line unit kept the waters tranquil for John Kladar, who handled well his few opportunities to diffuse the Spanish attack. Tim Wratkowski, Mike Zimmerman, and Captain Grayson Heenan kept things on lockdown against the largely overmatched Spanish strikers, thus giving the American squad the control they have often lacked and so desperately needed on the small pitch at Pio XI.e

The Martyrs will carry the momentum of their strong start into their second group-stage matchup, which will take place next week against Gianiculum rivals the Ukrainian College. The NAC was bested narrowly by the Ukrainians in a friendly earlier this year, but confidence is high for the young Americans following their opening day victory.

Let's go Martyrs!

"As the mountains are round about Jerusalem..."

"...so the Lord is round about his people, from this time forth and for evermore." - Psalm 125:2

It's hard to believe that nearly two months have passed since we boarded the plane for the Middle East, and set foot in that hallowed place where Our Lord once walked! A lot has come and gone since then, including a whole slew of final exams and papers to finish up the fall semester of Theology III. All went well, thanks be to God, and I am very grateful for your prayers! After the exams were finished, I was able to take a 9-day trip to Austria, Germany, and Liechtenstein with two classmates from the College. We hopped around a bit in those countries, but, for the most part, took advantage of the free time to sleep, pray, read some non-academic stuff, and just generally rest. The time was much-needed, and also much-appreciated!

But regardless of how beautiful we found the mountains of Austria, it remains to me to finish the story of the greatest trip I have ever taken, and perhaps ever will take: the Holy Land pilgrimage. After our five glorious days on the shores of the Sea of Galilee which we spent climbing around on the hills, praying in the caves, and skipping rocks into the peaceful lake, the time came to make the very journey which Our Lord made: from Galilee to Jerusalem. It was time for us to say goodbye to the quiet landscapes and the serene hillside towns, and to continue our pilgrimage in a place which, for all intents and purposes, sounded a lot like Rome! After all, this was going to be a big city, full of tourists, cars, shops, and all the sights, sounds and smells which had been so wonderfully absent from the peaceful lakeside resort along the Sea.

As you might be able to guess, I was not all that enthused with the idea of making this trade-off! Galilee had been such a special place, and I had only just begun to get settled in at the various holy sites around the area. And yet now it was time to leave? Well, I guess I don't have much of a choice, do I???

But Fr. Hurley, our pilgrimage leader, was all too familiar with this sentiment. After all, he had led somewhere between 8 and 12 of these tours over the course of his priesthood...Yes, he knew that going to Jerusalem after having spent 5 beautiful days in Galilee was not going to be the typical seminarian's cup of tea.

So, on the night before we were to load up the bus and be on our way, Father addressed us as a group - as he did every night - to discuss logistics for the following day and to offer some points for prayer and reflection that we could take with us during the day's travels. That evening's meeting was one of the most powerful ones of the entire trip! Father set the stage for us by telling us that Our Lord's journey from Galilee to Jerusalem wasn't the most delightful trip either! And it certainly didn't seem to make sense, from an evangelization standpoint. After all, Christ had built up a great following in Galilee...he was popular, sought after, and influential, considering the great crowds who followed him and sought to be near him. He could have, in theory, continued ministering in Galilee for months - even years! - if he had chosen to do so. He could have preached the Good News there for as long as would seem necessary to help the people really grasp the truths of his message. He could have healed the sick and cast out demons until all the suffering in the surrounding region was gone. And yet, at a certain point in his ministry, Jesus turns his face to Jerusalem, showing "his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised" (Matt. 16:21). This turn to Jerusalem was a decisive moment in Jesus' life, because he knew that it meant the fulfillment of his Father's will, and the carrying out of the purpose of his Incarnation, namely, to die for you and me.

And so, as we read about Our Lord's journey to Jerusalem, we too made such a journey. Certainly, our 3-hour bus ride was much more pleasant and perhaps much less eventful than Our Lord's several-day journey to the city! But before long, we were greeting by the so many of the sights and smells which he too would have known: the hustle and bustle of people moving to and fro, the yelling of merchants and shoppers, the narrow streets of the old city closely packed from wall to wall with all sorts of people...Yes, Jerusalem is, as it always has been, a place of great importance in our world, as adherents of the three major monotheistic religions - Christianity, Judaism, and Islam - all come together - and somehow coexist! - in very noisy, chaotic city.

But despite my own reservations about travelling to this hectic place, it became abundantly clear from the get-go that the peace of the Lord's presence could - and did - permeate every inch of the holy city. It was something surreal to walk through the gate into the premises of the old city and to immediately see signs which pointed to "the Church of the Holy Sepulchre"!!! Like, the place where Our Lord died and was buried. Yeah, we weren't in Kansas anymore. Heck, we weren't even in Rome anymore! This was truly the place where our salvation had been won and where death had conquered. And no amount of noisy streets or heckling vendors could distract us from that!

In the early morning hours, the streets to the Sepulchre were always clear!

Before speaking about any of the many incredible sites which we experienced during our stay in the city, I have to mention that the Church of the Holy Sepulchre was one of the most amazing places I have ever visited. And, along with that serene shore along the Sea of Galilee, it may be my favorite place on earth. The Church is huge, dark, mysterious, and divided into a bunch of different segments which are under the care of various Christian groups. So, as you're walking around inside, you're never exactly sure that you're allowed to be there! My general rule was that if someone started yelling at me, I'd get out of dodge...fortunately, that never happened!

But despite the centuries-long political struggle that still marks the Church to this day, the peace of Christ's death and resurrection shine through. Over at the altar which marks Calvary Hill (currently in the custody of the Armenian Christians), I was able to sit in the darkened room beneath the beautiful images of the Crucifix, flanked of course by Our Lady and the Evangelist. Every once in a while, I would sneak up to the altar and kiss the small golden slab which marks the rock itself where Christ's cross would have been lifted, and where his blood ran down on Good Friday. Just across the Church, in the modest Blessed Sacrament chapel kept up by Franciscan friars, is the rock of the Resurrection, believed to be the entrance to the Joseph of Arimathea's tomb, and thus the place where Our Lord would have rolled back the stone.

No pictures allowed inside the church, but here's one from the outside!

Of course, in the middle of the Church is perhaps the most fascinating place of all: the Holy Sepulchre itself. It's a tiny room, roughly 4 feet by 4 feet, big enough only for two or three people to kneel alongside each other. It's there that you can find the slab, the stone upon which Christ's body lay for those three days, in anticipation of his Resurrection. Interestingly enough, that place is so amazingly sacred, and yet, in reality, we can truly say with the angels that "He is not here; for he has risen, as he said" (Matt. 28:6). On that very slab of rock once lay the body of Our Lord, and yet, he is no longer there, because he has risen! Wow...

One of the great graces of being in Jerusalem was the opportunity to spend an entire night in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, as "guests," of sorts, of the Franciscan friars there. So, on the night of December 30th, 9 of my bros from the NAC and I arrived at the Church as it was about to be closed (at 7 pm). We hopped inside, waiting as the rest of the folks left, and watched as a combined team of Franciscans and Orthodox monks worked to lock the door. All the religious scattered, and there we were: 10 seminarians, locked in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre for 9 hours (the doors reopened at 4 am every day). Boy, was that something!

The coolest part of the "lock-in" was the fact that, unlike during the normal opening hours, there was no line for entrance into the tomb! So, Bible and rosaries in hand, I knelt down at the tomb, and simply remained there for what may have been hours...It was one of those special moments when prayer didn't feel like it was a part of time. All that mattered was that I was in there, and that the Lord was not. Yet in his absence, I was able to think of him, to speak to him, and to thank him for all that he had done for me. Of course, this was one of the most meaningful times for me to offer up my prayer intentions as well. All the wonderful people whom I had known - friends, family, priests, sisters, bishops, and seminarians - everyone whom I could call to mind, I placed there on that slab of rock, offering them to the Lord and thanking him for all the ways he had blessed me!

Outside the Sepulchre, the blessed sites which Jerusalem offered seemed to be endless. I was enthralled by the quiet, but stunning Orthodox Church built over the place of "Mary's tomb." Of course, Our Lady was assumed into heaven when her time on this world was completed, but this Church commemorates the place where she fell asleep, and thus the very place where she would have been lifted up from the disciples before their very eyes.

The place of Our Lady's assumption!

Then, there was the Church of St. Peter in Gallicantu, literally, St. Peter's of the Rooster Crow. It's the place where Peter would have followed Jesus on the night of his Passion, and where he would have denied three times that he even knew the man. The Church was filled with Petrine imagery, from the beautiful icons of the denial and the reconciliation, to the golden rooster perched majestically on top of the dome of the Church! It was truly remarkable to meditate upon the scene of Peter's great sin, but also to be able to think back to the shores of Galilee whence we had come, and to realize that, yes, he sinned gravely, but no, he did not despair. Indeed, St. Peter would experience one of the most powerful moments of reconciliation in the history of the Church!

A final place I would like to mention was the Church of Gethsemane, built on the hill outside Jerusalem where Christ would have journeyed with his disciples after the Last Supper, and where he prayed that most profound of all prayers: "My father, if it be possible, let this chalice pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will" (Matt. 26:39). We visited this church early on one of our morning tours of the city, but we returned a couple nights later for what would become another one of the most special moments of the pilgrimage: a Holy Hour before the Blessed Sacrament. The Church was dark and beautiful as the 30-something of us crowded around the altar upon which Our Lord was exposed. As we sat there before Him, it truly felt that we were his disciples, so often tempted to doze off and abandon him - and so often truly guilty of that! - but also so deeply loved by him, so much so that he drank of that chalice which his Father gave of him to drink. It was yet another moment of prayer in the Holy Land which I will never forget, and, once again, I brought you all there with me in my intentions!

The Church of Gethsemane

Well, folks, I gotta run. I hope these last few posts have been able to transmit something of the beauty I experienced in all of these places. Know of my prayers for all of you, and know that I am so very grateful for all of yours!

Pax et bonum,
Colin

That most necessary time of year...

It is exam season, folks!

I have my first of 7 exams this coming Friday, 4 next week, and two the following week. The study guides are being created, encyclicals printed, coffee brewed, theology manuals consumed by the chapter, coffee brewed again, and prayers for diligence made. While the stress of exams here at the NAC is much like the stress faced anywhere during a finals period, there is something amazingly profound about studying this much concentrated theology over the course of 3 or 4 weeks. Sometimes, while I'm sitting at my desk, I'll stop and realize: "holy cow, I'm studying the Psalms right now!" or some little revelation of that sort. It's not always fun, but the Lord always gives the growth and the strength to overcome the little obstacles. And, at the end of the day, this is the stuff I'm going to spend the rest of my life teaching to others! That usually makes it hit home a bit.

Please pray for me! I will offer my coffee-induced studiousness for all of you.

In Christ,
Colin

Holy Land, part 2: "And he went down with them and came to Nazareth..."

"...and was obedient to them."

The two primary "poles" of our Holy Land pilgrimage were also the two primary poles of Our Lord's public life: Galilee and Jerusalem. They were the places where he called his disciples, where his preaching took place, where his miracles were performed, and where he eventually underwent his passion and death. These places are more or less the setting for most of the Gospel text, and thus were understandably the focal point of our 10-day pilgrimage!

And yet, we know too that the overwhelming majority of Jesus' life took place, not in the fishing villages around the lake, nor in the hustle and bustle of Jerusalem, but in the town of Nazareth, an essentially insignificant Jewish town which happened to be, for Mary and Joseph, "their own city," as Luke describes it (2:39). It was there that Christ lived his quiet years within the loving embrace of the Holy Family, assisting his foster-father St. Joseph in the humble trade of a carpenter, and praying with His Blessed Mother, who no doubt treasured these many peaceful years in her heart. This city, while neither the place of Christ's birth nor of his public ministry, nevertheless carries great significant for us as Christians, because, in fact "he went and dwelt in a city called Nazareth, that what was spoken by the prophets might be fulfilled, 'He shall be called a Nazarene.'" (Matthew 2:23)

The Church of St. Joseph in Nazareth commemorates the great patron of the Universal Church.

But the site of this home of the Holy Family is significant not only because of what happened after Mary and Joseph returned from Egypt, but also for what happened there before. For indeed, Mary, having grown up in her parents' home in Nazareth, and having met her future husband there, also received, on one seemingly ordinary day, a message which was to change her life and the lives of all those who had ever lived and would ever live. It was in this little insignificant town that the angel of God appeared to a young girl who seemed, in the eyes of the world, to be an insignificant Jewish girl. We are all familiar with Mary's answer, and of the rest of the story of the Incarnation, a story which continues to this day, and which will continue for the rest of eternity. But the reality is that Mary's fiat occurred at one moment, in one place, in one earth-shattering decision which set humanity free. And the place where this moment took place was here, in Nazareth.

The inscription on the altar at Nazareth reads, "The Word was made flesh here."

In our Mass for the day at the Church of the Annunciation, we read for our Gospel the passage which contains that most significant event in the history of the universe: the moment of God's becoming man. The accompanying priest who preached that day drew our attention to the mystery of insignificance which God seems so pleased to use throughout history, whenever he can. Here we were in this place which, to the Jew of the 1st century - or to anyone of the 1st century, for that matter - would have been so insignificant and unimportant. And yet it was here - in Latin, hic - that God had chosen to come and first pitch his tent among us. And this girl to whom he had appeared was young, poor, and unmarried - in the society of the time, a woman of no social standing or significance. And yet, it was her - his lowly handmaiden - whom God had chosen to be the mother of his only-begotten son! If God was able to do such marvels in that time, and in this insignificant place, then what could possibly prevent him from working in the midst of those poor, lowly, insignificant areas of our lives, areas which we might have already written off as being "outside" of God's providence?! This brief stop in the place of Christ's Incarnation has brought all these reflections to light, and helped me to recognize that the Incarnation, which began here - hic - in the town of Nazareth, will always continue in my heart and in the hearts of all who welcome him in lowliness and meekness!

Holy Land, Part 1: "Come Away to a Lonely Place..."

"...and rest awhile." - Mark 6:30

It was these words from Our Lord to His apostles which beckoned me and 36 of my brother seminarians to the Holy Land for a 10-day pilgrimage of prayer, as we visited the places which have truly been made holy by the presence of Jesus Christ Himself. Like Christ's apostles those many centuries ago, I too had been feeling in my own life a great desire to come away with the Lord and to rest with Him. This desire had grown especially in the first months of this academic year, a year which has been filled with a lot of work and countless up's and down's! After an arduous few December weeks of house responsibilities and class work, there was no greater feeling of relief than to depart the North American College and fly off to a place which is so unlike any other place I have ever set foot. While all of us were certainly leaving behind a place of relative comfort and familiarity in exchange for a new and eye-opening culture, we were spurred on by the knowledge that He whom we seek is the Lord! Just as those two disciples, having asked Our Lord where He was staying (John 1:38), were invited to "Come and see," so too we, as Christ's disciples, left our Roman home to see this place where the Son of God was born, where He lived, worked, and taught, and, ultimately, where He died and rose again for our salvation. I, for one, had many ideas in my mind of what to expect upon arriving in these Biblical sites, but nothing could have sufficiently prepared me for the beauty of that holy place. As one studying for the priesthood, it is my great hope that I might be able to share my experience of this beauty with all of you, and with whomever else the Lord might place in my life!

"And passing along by the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and Andrew the brother of Simon casting a net in the sea; for they were fishermen." - Mark 1:16

Our pilgrimage began on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, or, as it is sometimes referred to in the Scriptures, the Lake of Gennesaret or Tiberias. We arrived in Israel in the evening, when it was already dark, so we were not able to see any of the surrounding terrain when we arrived at our hotel. But already the crashing of the waves could be heard nearby! That first morning, we awoke to the beautiful sight of a gray, misty lake, surrounded by hilly bluffs and rocky shores. As a Minnesotan, I can say that any lake, insofar as it is a lake, is a welcome and heart-warming sight. The peaceful rhythm of the tide, the intermittent jumping of fish in the misty morning, the scattered buoys anchoring in seemingly random places...it was all so similar to many-a-lake I have seen and enjoyed throughout my life. And yet, this lake is sacred. It is, in its own right, a relic, a testament to the life of several men who once walked its shores and fished its waters. One of these men, of course, was the Son of God, who chose to spend many days of His public ministry around this particular body of water, teaching in their synagogues, healing their sick, and "preaching the Gospel of God" (Mark 1:14). But then, there were the ordinary men who made this lake sacred as well. They did not choose to be born in the surrounding towns of Bethsaida and Capernaum, but they were born there, nevertheless, and would go on to serve the Lord in extraordinary ways. They were simple men, men of little education and negligible influence, men who had hardly any reason to expect that their lives would take them away from their insignificant, isolated little corner of the world. But it was a simple encounter with a man named Jesus which changed everything...

"And Jesus said to them, 'Follow me and I will make you fishers of men.' And immediately they left their nets and followed him." - Mark 1:17

For Peter and Andrew, those simple Galilean fishermen, this encounter with the itinerant preacher from Nazareth was mysterious. Doubtless it would have left them full of questions and uncertainties. And yet, in a single profound movement of God's grace, Jesus' words beckoned to their hearts. Scripture does not give the reason why they dropped their nets - and essentially their entire livelihood - to follow this man. But their lives, and indeed the entire world, would truly never be the same! From that moment on, they were disciples of the Lord Jesus Christ, walking with Him through the surrounding villages, learning from Him, speaking with Him, oftentimes struggling in their understanding of Him, but all the while growing in their love for Him. When he left his net that day and followed after Jesus, could Peter ever have expected to one day find himself in the center of the world - Rome - presiding over the local Church and ultimately dying at the hands of the Romans on account of His love for Jesus? The adventure which lay in store for these men was something which they never could have comprehended...And yet, their Lord remained ever true to His promises. By His grace, these Galilean fishermen would one day be crowned the princes of God's holy Church!

It was on the shores of these sacred waters that we now found ourselves. What a perfect place to contemplate the mystery and the awesomeness of God's action in our lives! What better place could we choose to meditate upon God's faithfulness to His people, and indeed to every single one of His friends? For it was near these same waters where Christ first called his disciples that He also appeared to them after the Resurrection, having undergone His passion and death with hardly any of His friends beside Him to conform Him. But, just as He came to these fishermen at the beginning of His ministry to call them to Himself, so would Jesus later call them to Himself in a moment of reconciliation and forgiveness.

"Just as day was breaking, Jesus stood on the beach; yet the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to them, 'Children, have you any fish?'..." - John 21:4

"...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 Peter said to him, 'Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.' Jesus said to him, 'Feed my sheep.'" - John 21:17

This part of the beach where Christ cooked breakfast for His disciples and allowed Peter to confess his love for Him was a mere 10-minute walk from our hotel! It was a tremendous blessing to be able to spend several hours on that sacred shore, sitting on one of the large rocks - to listen to the tide roll in and to pray about that day when Peter was able fall at Our Lord's knees and undo the denial which he had committed just days before. How many times has Jesus offered me these moments of reconciliation too, in the wake of my own fear and failure? Sitting upon those rocks, the Lord's mercy and faithfulness were quite literally before my eyes.

                                                                          *   *   *

But it was not only on the shores of that sacred lake that Christ revealed Himself to the world. The whole surrounding region of Galilee was bathed in the peace of Our Lord's presence, whether it was the synagogue where he taught (Mark 1:21), or the house where he cured the sick and the possessed (Mark 1:32), or the tax office where he called a man named Matthew to follow him (Matthew 9:9).

A 4th century synagogue built in Capernaum stands on the site of the synagogue in which Jesus Himself would have taught and ministered!

The ancient town of Capernaum, and the modern church built over the site of St. Peter's house.

In all of these places, we stopped to read the Scriptures which described the particular scene. It was amazing to see entire chapters of the Gospels suddenly fitting into place and coming alive as we realized that we were standing in the very places where Our Lord had preached the Kingdom of God. Surely, a little more imagination was needed at some places than others, since much of what was once this Biblical world is now either turned into ruins or built up into an ordinary, modern town. But even to see these sites and to know beyond doubt that they do exist was enough to bring the Gospels to life. We were left to imagine what it might have been like to sit in the synagogue of Capernaum on that most ordinary day when Our Lord first made His appearance, or to see the four men carrying the paralytic to Him on a stretcher, or to see Him heal the demoniac who could not be restrained by even the strongest of shackles. In all of these beautiful places, we were able to open the Scriptures and enter into those profound scenes in which Christ proceeded to reveal Himself to the simple men and women of Galilee.

"Seeing the crowds, he went up on the mountain, and when he sat down his disciples came to him. And he opened his mouth and taught them, saying: 'Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.'" - Matthew 5:1-3

Another site of great peace and spiritual renewal which Galilee offered us was the proximity of the Mount of the Beatitudes. It was not far from the shores of the lake, nor from the towns and villages where Jesus had been preaching, so it made sense that He would have retreated there with His disciples and brought with him all the people eager to listen to His teaching. While on the mountain, we seminarians read through those 3 chapters of Matthew's account of the Sermon on the Mount, the sermon which stands alone as the greatest sermon every preached, and which has always been regarded by Christ's followers as the institution of Our Lord's law of love, prefigured by the giving of the law to Moses on Mount Sinai. Sitting in the grass as the sun descended toward the horizon, Jesus' words hit me in the way that they have always challenged me and called me to examine my own life as a Christian. And yet, there was something about being in that sacred place which urged me to listen to those words even more attentively...How do I respond to Jesus' words? Am I living the Beatitudes by giving myself over to Him in poverty of spirit, meekness, and purity of heart? Do I harbor thoughts of anger towards my brother or of hatred toward my enemies? Do I pray in such a way that I may be seen my men? Am I anxious about the unimportant things of life, without surrendering all these cares into the hands of my heavenly Father? All these thoughts, and more, came to mind as I prayed through the perfect sermon. How much our world is still in need of hearing the Sermon on the Mount!

At this point, dear friends, I will end this first Holy Land post. I hope to write another update or two in the coming weeks about our subsequent days in Jerusalem, where we, like Our Lord and His disciples, traveled from the peace and tranquility of Galilee to the bustling noise and chaos of David's city. There too, the graces were abundant! I am grateful for all your prayers, and want you to know that you have all been in mine over the course of these blessed days.

Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year!
-Colin