St. Mary's of Providence in Photos

And here, as promised, is a selection of some of my best photos from the trip. Trust me, you really don't want to look at a hundred pictures of us acting like goofballs at one in the morning.

Thanks so much to John Higginbotham for tech support, and Phil Wagner for helping to expedite the repair process as the entire slideshow managed to explode. It's working now. I do believe in miracles!!

The embedded slideshow looks disproportionate on the blog, so click the link below to view it. Pause button is on the left--I recommend you use it for ease of viewing.

Enjoy! Have a great weekend--I'm going to spend it at home, celebrating my birthday. :D

--->This way for the slideshow!<---

Finding Peace

Wow. What an amazing weekend I had.

As you're probably well aware by now, this past weekend I went on retreat with a group of people from Rowan's Catholic Campus Ministries. I'm going to split the story into two posts for this week--one for a personal reflection, and the other for pictures.

We stayed at the St. Mary of Providence Center in Elverson, PA, grounds that are cared for by the Daughters of St. Mary of Providence, a community of nuns. I can say with confidence that I've never seen a place quite so beautiful (or to be frank, so huge). As soon as we walked in, I looked up at the ceiling, and literally felt breathless. My friends weren't kidding when they said I would be amazed! The best part is that it's only about an hour and a half from Rowan.

The first thing we did on Friday night was set a basket in the middle of the conference room floor. We were instructed to write down any private prayers or goals we had for the weekend, and as a song played, each of us put our papers in when we felt ready. These were burned at the conclusion of the retreat, which I thought was freeing--a physical sign of what God had already done.

There were discussions and Bible studies throughout the weekend which focused particularly on how our faith affects our experience as college students. While the discussions were mostly open-ended, I noticed that they continued to drift back to distractions, and how often our busy lives and relationships can impede us from growing in our relationship with God. It was agreed by the whole group that the weekend would be used to rekindle that relationship, to find that silent place inside ourselves to "be still, and know that [He is] God" (Psalm 46:10).

Perhaps one of the most personally powerful experiences for me was our quiet hour, where we were free to do as we pleased, providing it was spiritual and we spent most of the time on our own. It hadn't started to rain yet, so I headed outside to walk to grounds. I was amazed at how much you miss in the busyness and noise of city life. I became fixated on the rhythm of my stride for some reason, and as I walked, a line from Scripture came to me: "Trust in the Lord with all your heart; on your own intelligence rely not. In all your ways be mindful of him, and he will make straight your paths" (Proverbs 3:5-6).

I've just recently come out of a wonderful three year relationship, and while we remain best friends, I'm now left wondering what the future holds. This weekend, I remembered that God is the sort who loves us and will never lead us wrong. During a private conversation with our chaplain, he used a simple card trick to show me how, regardless of what decisions I make that take me down the wrong path, God will always give me the tools I need to get back on track.

It can be difficult to forget the past. It can be even more difficult to forgive, especially when we need to forgive ourselves. But if we can let go and realize that God has already forgiven and forgotten our pasts, we can move forward. By the time we left St. Mary's on Sunday, the healing was finally beginning, and not just for me. I'm now closer to my CCM family than I ever was, and am starting to regain my peace. It was a long time coming, and I'm definitely grateful.

Catholic Culture: A Photo Essay

After spending way too much time figuring out how to make Flickr work, here's a collection of photos that I hope will illustrate that Catholicism isn't just about religion, but family and community, too. (Again, have mercy on me: taking photos in church without a flash, I've discovered, is super difficult. All things considered, I think this came out pretty well.)

Thanks so much to Cathy Pagden, who assisted me in the planning process for this project, and Fr. Larry Polansky, for being an able confidante and willing guinea pig for me.

I'm off to retreat in Elverson, PA tomorrow afternoon with CCM. Minus an annoying cough, I'm feeling much better, and am beyond ready for this weekend. Peace!

Please note, captions are available in full screen mode. The button is in the bottom right corner of the slideshow. If you still can't see them, click "Show Info" at the top right. The pause button is on the bottom left. It's so much better than staring at nameless people, I promise.

The English are crossing the Tiber!

Edit, 28 Oct. 2009: It has been brought to my attention that, as I predicted, I did botch some key details of this story. First and foremost, the group at the center of this potential conversion is the Tradtional Anglican Communion (TAC), which is not to be confused with the Anglican Communion. The TAC is based worldwide, and not just in England, so the post title of "English" is a misnomer. Furthermore, negotiations for conversion were initiated by those within the TAC, and not the Pope; he only responded to a request from them, and before that was not involved in any sort of intervention. Again, thanks for the information. That's what you all are here for, after all. I appreciate it. ~MLP

I would be remiss as a Catholic blogger (and really, as a journalist) if I didn't cover yesterday's bombshell from the Vatican. In a history-making move, Pope Benedict XVI has made provisions for traditional Anglicans to convert en masse to Catholicism, if they so choose.

I haven't yet found anyone willing to break down the release in layman's terms, so I guess this laywoman will give it her best shot. Bear with me. (I know I have at least one priest reading--COUGH--and he is free to correct me if I botch this.)

First, some background: the Anglican Communion (the Church of England in Britain and the Episcopalian Church of the USA) have been rocked by splits and infighting for a solid decade now over the decision to ordain both women and openly gay men and women as clergy. (Tradiotional Anglicans and Catholics believe, in a nutshell, that only men should be priests because Jesus and His twelve Apostles were all men--He could have chosen women, and had plenty as friends to choose from, but didn't.) Conservative members who disagreed with this progressive move formed other churches under the jurisdiction of bishops in North Africa.

The situation has only gotten worse since, and people on both sides of the debate have been holding their breaths, wondering if the entire Communion will crumble. That was when the Pope stepped in. The conservative side of the Anglican Communion has been in negotiations for an unspecific amount of time about being received into the Catholic Chuch. Benedict has "bent the rules" to ease the transition of these groups by allowing them to retain their unique rituals and hymns while under the leadership of Anglo-Catholic bishops. The new converts would become their own "floating diocese," bound by background instead of geographic location (we do the same thing for the Military Diocese).

Opinions are mixed about the decision, with liberals accusing the Vatican of overstepping their bounds or deepening divisions, but for conservatives in both Churches, this signifies hope for healing.

Jesus founded one Church--not 35,000 separate denominations and churches (according to the Barna group). We're now one huge step closer to seeing that unity made reality again. Regardless of opinion, I think we'll all be praying.

Thomas Peters over at the popular blog American Papist has tons of commentary and resources on the issue. There's also this collection of opinions from the New York Times, compliments of my Online Journalism professor, Mark Berkey-Gerard.

Suffering

I feel dead.

Okay, maybe I shouldn't be such a drama queen, but only I would be lucky enough to get sick the week of midterms. God's idea of humor and mine are apparently two very different things--I guess that's what it means when Scripture says "My ways are above your ways, and my thoughts are above your thoughts." Ha.

I've heard a few Christians voice disapproval about the way we Catholics tend to dwell on suffering, and I guess I can see where they come from; from where I sit at the Newman house, I only have to look up to see a large, wooden crucifix on the wall. That crucifix is a staple in every single Catholic church worlwide; each one hangs a crucifix in a prominent place behind the altar.

Well, why? In other non-Catholic churches, almost all display an empty cross, and the rationale makes sense. That business--the Crucifixion--is done with, right? Even we proclaim that at Mass when we sing, "Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again."

Wrong. It doesn't stop there. If the Crucifixion was a one time deal (and it was, in reality), only the people alive in Jesus' time would have been saved. But because the one dying was God Himself, the event transcends time. That one sacrifice continues now, and will continue until the end. That's why Catholics wear and display crucifixes--without suffering, we'd have no hope. We never want to forget that.

That's why in times of sickness or trouble we "offer up" our sufferings in prayer for ourselves and others. Anything is possible for God, and if we humbly give Him ourselves in weakness, it's amazing how we'll be blessed in return. It also helps to remember as I go through a whole box of tissues that He suffered much worse. It puts things in perspective.

So, as some old school folks say, I guess I'll just "quit complaining and offer it up!" :P

The best way to keep your peace of heart is to accept everything as coming directly from the hands of the God who loves you.

--St. Paul of the Cross

Things to Come

Midterms are coming like a bullet train, and in the interest of not failing my four other classes, I thought I'd take a step back and do some hardcore studying. In the meantime, here's a quick teaser of what I'm working on for the next few weeks.

* Pro-Life night: The Catholic Church has remained consistently committed to the protection of the most weak and vulnerable among us, particularly the unborn and infirm. God, we say, is the author of all creation, and we are therefore obligated to defend that life "from conception to natural death." That said, abortion, genocide, and euthanasia are some of the most cutting issues to faithful Catholics, and we are always praying for a return to a defense of life. We couldn't mark the nationwide Pro-Life Sunday on October 4, but CCM will be holding several events and devotions this Wednesday that I'll cover and post soon.

* St. Mary of Providence retreat: The people at CCM who have been around for a while tell me that our fall retreat next weekend will provide ample opportunities for great photos. I'll be bringing my camera and an open mind...I've never been on retreat of my own free will, so I'm pretty excited. A lot has been going on in my personal life lately, and I'm looking forward to recharging my batteries. (They also tell me the nuns are fantastic cooks. I'm not complaining.)

* Speaking of photos, keep your eyes open this week...let's just say I have a rather large photo project in the works with my church at home. It will be experimental and a bit nerve-racking, so wish me luck! I've never been much of a photographer, but it's time to learn. Hopefully I won't disappoint. (It's too bad I won't be taking Photojournalism until next semester.)

* Immaculee Ilibageza- On November 10, Assumption Parish in Atco, NJ will be hosting Immaculee Ilibegeza, a Catholic who survived the genocide in Rwanda. We heard last week about how Immaculee's faith allowed her to persevere through almost a year of horror, and now I have the opportunity to hear her in person.

Keep checking back regularly--these are only the big features! If you're anxious for more, offer it up in prayer for my good grades next week. ;) I'll be back!

Peace.

By the way...

I just want to mention that this blog is now a part of a huge Catholic blog site called St. Blog's Parish,* and I'm thrilled to be included as one of the newest bloggers in their directory. When visiting, you'll find Catholic blogs by all sorts of people from every state of life. Check it out. You can find me in the Resources section! :)

*There's actually no actual saint named St. Blog, nor an actual parish (church community) of that name. Hehe. 

The Challenge to Love

In my intro post, I mentioned that I'm a member of Catholic Campus Ministries here at Rowan, and have been blessed more times than I can count since transferring here and finding them six weeks ago.

Our Wednesday night meetings often feature guest speakers, and we were joined last night by Andres Arango, the Director of Campus Ministries for our diocese. (A diocese is a geographical area used for Church government; they're headed by a bishop.) After opening the meeting with prayer, Arango told us a little bit about himself; originally from Colombia, he was an industrial engineer who moved to the United States in 2001. Eventually, he left his engineering position behind to pursue his real love: serving Jesus and His Church. It was that love he planned to discuss with us that night, and the conversation took us in directions we would have never expected.

"Who is Jesus? Go on, just say what you think," he told us encouragingly. There were a few minutes of silence, then words came from around the group. Confidante. Savior. Security. Inspiration. The list went on this way.

After a while, he stopped us, throwing out a second question: "How do you know Jesus is God?"

We all stared at him. "How do you know He's real?" Clearly, this wasn't going to be a normal meeting. We went on to talk about how God isn't some sort of far away deity who remains detached from our lives, but rather one who wanted to be so involved that He became man. While present on earth, Jesus shared every pain and temptation that we experience today. After His resurrection and ascension into heaven, we were sent the Holy Spirit to dwell within us; this means that God is always with us, and alive in us. It also means that we act as instruments of God's love to others.

Andres told us of an interesting encounter he had about five years ago that exemplifies this perfectly. Out late after a long day, he stopped at his favorite Mexican place and found a homeless woman there who called to him. Guilt-ridden, he tossed her a few dollars and started to walk away, feeling very holy and righteous. For a second time, the woman called to him. "Hey. Can I...have a hug?"

"The ten seconds I spent thinking felt like ten hours," he told us, laughing. "You know, a million things went through my head. 'Does she have a gun? Is she gonna take my wallet? I wonder when was [sic] the last time she took a shower...what got me to do it had nothing to do with me. It was the Holy Spirit. It was the love of Jesus alive in me. As soon as I hugged her, she started to cry--it was probably the first time in a long time she felt connected to someone. But, you know, that moment changed both our lives."

There were more stories like this one, and perhaps I'll retell the other in a future post. What we learned tonight was that we need to get out of our comfort zones and allow God to use us to reach the poor in both body and spirit. "The challenge tonight is to believe that Jesus is here, right now, in us...and to develop a personal relationship with Him," Andres said.

That's a challenge, for sure. But "nothing is impossible for God" (Luke 1:37).

Andres Arango with Ann Polo, director of the Newman house.

Photo courtesy of Dana Douress.

Alive again...

Faith is rarely ever easy, and it shouldn't be. The truth is hard to take, too, at times. My friend V once told me when I was struggling with adjusting to my new lifestyle (which involved giving up a few sweet vices), "We should never seek after what makes us happy, but rather what's True."

Admittedly, I resented that comment for a long time. Yet, as I hung on, God continued to console me, to keep me strong, and say "Yes, I am still here." He used a lot of things to do that--friends, books, and long talks with (very patient) priests all included. However, the single biggest thing that kept me going, and still does today, is music.

It was Victor Hugo that said, "Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent." I may sound like a typical college student saying this, but hearing a song that speaks to my situation, and promises hope in the midst of struggle, does wonders for me in my wearier moments.

So, as I cook up my next (actually newsworthy!) post this weekend, here is one song that has been close to me lately.

Matt Maher is one of the only Catholic musicians who has successfully broken into the mainstream Christian contemporary music scene, and with good reason. This song, "Alive Again," is the first single off his new album of the same name. It comes from St. Augustine, a man who went from living a life of promiscuity to the priesthood, eventually being named both a saint and a "doctor of the Church."

Here's an excerpt from the full quote of Augustine's:

Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new, late have I loved you! You were within me, but I was outside, and it was there that I searched for you. In my unloveliness I plunged into the lovely things which you created. You were with me, but I was not with you. Created things kept me from you; yet if they had not been in you they would not have been at all. You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness. You flashed, you shone, and you dispelled my blindness. You breathed your fragrance on me; I drew in breath and now I pant for you. I have tasted you, now I hunger and thirst for more. You touched me, and I burned for your peace.

And a live acoustic performance:

Saved!

Last winter, my baby cousin Cameron was baptized at my church by one of our deacons. While my family doesn't typically go to church, weddings, funerals and baptisms bring them out in droves. I remember in the parking lot seeing one of the baby's relatives that hadn't been at the ceremony.

"Hey!" my mom called out, glad to see him. "Why weren't you at church?"
"Oh, I'm not a...I'm a Christian," he told us, a little aggressively.

I bristled; this wasn't the first time I had encountered something like this. I was going to let it go, but to my surprise, Mom replied without hesitation, "Yeah, so are Catholics."

For a while after my reversion in 2007, comments like this hurt and confused me. Where did people hear some of the things they would tell me? Why did they think they had the right to tear me down? Last spring, it even happened during a Sociology lecture without me saying a word to invite the criticism. It took some time before I realized that this happens because people don't know what we're really about. Our rituals are ancient and often solemn; we offer respect to Mary, saints, and priests who act as our guides. But are we saved? Do we Catholics have a living and vibrant relationship with Jesus?

The answer is the same one that can be given for any other church or religion: sometimes. Sure, there are many Catholics who practice the faith without believing it, but there are just as many others who do "love the Lord . . . with all their strength" (Mark 12:30).

The primary difference between Catholics and other Christians is that there is usually a concrete moment where a Christian repents and accepts Christ into their life from that point forward. Some believe that nothing you do, no matter how horrendous, can cause you to "lose your salvation." Catholics believe that while we are saved through faith, it is a process that takes our entire lives, and does not occur in an instant. If we sin, we can be separated from God until we turn to Him and confess our sins in the Sacrament of Confession (more on this later). While doing good things cannot save us, neither can faith alone. Our faith is only alive if we live it out. Without works, our faith is dead.

Put simply, our view of salvation looks like this:

[Living faith] + [Obedience to Jesus' teachings] + [God's grace (free mercy and love)] = [Heaven]

I've been saved (Rom. 8:24, Eph. 2:5–8), but I’m also in the process of being saved  (1 Cor. 1:8, 2 Cor. 2:15, Phil. 2:12), and I have the hope that I will be saved at the end of my life (Rom. 5:9–10, 1 Cor. 3:12–15). [Those verses used as references were from Catholic.com, a handy site that explains a lot about the faith.]

It may seem difficult, and honestly, it really can be. But, as my pastor put it once, all good things are worth working for in the end...