Archive for August, 2009

The Lord Will Give You The Seat You Really Want

Monday, August 31st, 2009

A month ago, I had the opportunity to go to a concert to hear my friend Clare play. She’s a world-class cellist, and it’s a great privilege to hear her play.

The concert was outdoors in a local park, and when I got there, I realized I had made a big mistake. I looked around and noticed everyone else had something that I didn’t have: a place to sit. Some people had blankets, some people had lawn chairs, some even had towels. Otherwise, there was fresh, green grass. That wouldn’t get along with my very light-colored khaki pants. “Big mistake,” I thought to myself. The only spot I could see was a little bench way off in the distance, outside the whole performance area.

I wandered about a little forlorn, looking around at all the blankets and chairs, hoping there might be a spot. No luck.

Then, all of a sudden, I noticed a clump of chairs right at the front. Except for a man and a woman, they were completely empty, and it was starting time for the concert. They looked like they were reserved for important people, but, see, I really wanted to be at the very front to hear Clare play. Hmm, I wondered who they were for. I decided to go and ask.

“Excuse me, are these seats reserved?” “We’re not sure what they’re for. But please, have a seat.” “OK.” I figured I’d sit there until I found out what they were for, in other words, until someone kicked me out. Anyway, this friendly guy seemed to enjoy my company. “Well, they’ll kick me out if they’re reserved.” “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. I’m the composer.”

This guy was a world-class composer of the first music piece of the evening, and he was there because tonight was the world premier. We chatted about his music, he told me about his frustration with having to re-write the music after the lyrics were changed by the author only several weeks ago. I told him I was a friend of Clare, the soloist. “Oh, then you belong here.”

Somehow, I got to spend the concert with him and his wife and friends. After his music, he was invited up on the stage and received an ovation. I got to sit with the guest of honor.

And I got the front-row seating to hear Clare.

Now, see, I’m not a regular at these things, I’m clueless about the classical music scene in Boston. I’m sure there were many people there who would love to have those seats. But it all happened because I really wanted to be at the front for Clare’s concert. It all happened because she is my friend.

The Lord’s big event is His wedding feast. We can make the big mistake of showing up unprepared. When we do, it can look like we’re going to miss out and be on the outside. But if you really want to be there in the front row, if He’s really your friend, if it really means that much to you, don’t give up. Don’t hold back. Look, seek, and ask.

The Lord will give you the seat you really want.

“Ask, and it will be given you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For every one who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened.” (Mt 7:7-8)

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Giving Back To Get

Thursday, August 27th, 2009

A few years ago, I was riding a bus to work in the early morning, and it was crowded. I was sitting in one of the front seats of the bus, one of the side rows that faces into the main aisle. Well, at one stop, a woman got on, and, trying to be polite, I got up and offered her my seat. “Oh, thank you,” she replied, and she took my seat. I continued to stand, thinking it’s good for me because I’ll be sitting most of the day at the office anyway.

Well, several stops later, the man sitting next to her got up to get off the bus. Then the woman did something amazing.

So kindly, she moved over to the guy’s old seat, and offered me back my original seat. I couldn’t believe it. It was such an unexpected and moving gesture. So, I took my old seat back, and we sat together and talked a bit until she got off. I thought, what a privilege to be next to such a person. I’ll never forget it.

Why did she do that? I think it’s because she appreciated the giver more than the gift. Why do I think that? Because she was willing to give up the gift to be with the giver.

What inspired the disciples to leave all the good gifts God had given them and follow Jesus? What moved them to give back to God their families, their careers, their possessions?

They appreciated the Giver more than the gifts.

And so they got to be next to Him, they got to be with Him and speak with Him. They got to be with the Son of God Himself and form a bond with Him that He never forgot. They got a share of His Life: eternal life.

The Lord offers us His seat along the way of life. He offers us the gift of His place. He gives us all His best things: our family, friends, possessions, career. It’s great to receive all these things, He’s very pleased when we do.

But there’s a problem. When we keep those things for ourselves, we can’t be next to Him. But if we offer them back to Him, we get even better:

We get Him.

“And every one who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or lands, for my name’s sake, will receive a hundredfold, and inherit eternal life.” (Mt 19:29)

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The Victory Of His Resurrection Is Ours

Saturday, August 15th, 2009

Today was the inaugural Mass for the return of Perpetual Eucharistic Adoration at St. Clement’s Shrine in Boston. It was a great, great day. There were so many incredibly beautiful and powerful aspects to the day, it was just a great privilege to be there.

But I have to say, my favorite part was when Cardinal O’Malley placed the monstrance in its resting place, for all to adore the Lord in the Eucharist. It’s the spot from which He will be perpetually adored for the first time in 40 years in the city of Boston, the very ground zero of the sex abuse scandal. I couldn’t hold back the tears. I can only describe it as the victory of the resurrection.

Tonight, in the wee hours of the first Sunday morning of His perpetual adoration, I’ll be at the Shrine adoring Him. Tonight, Saturday night, I’ve got a 3-6am night shift. There’s a reason why that’s special for me.

St. Clement’s is right near Fenway park. Now, I grew up loving the Red Sox. Even as a young kid, I used to beat my father to the morning paper and read the sports page every day, to see the final Red Sox score and read about the game. By the time I was twelve, I had learned all about decimals and fractions and formulas from reading all the Red Sox stats in the paper.

And then, later in my life, how many times I was drunk in the bleachers with my buddies, yelling at Yankees’ players, and then hitting the bars afterwards to drink more, inhale a bunch of cigarettes, and chase women. And then there are the nearby bars on Boylston Street, where I used to spend many late hours doing the same thing. You know, there may not be a bar in all of Boston that I haven’t had a drink in.

Those late night hours were a time for me to spend in other traps, too. If I wasn’t “fortunate” enough to find a willing woman, it was a time to give in to an internet pornography addiction.

Six. That’s how many addictions the Lord has taken me out of in 4 years. Most people have to struggle and labor for their whole life to get out of one of them. But He has taken six addictions from me, without my seeking it. Sports, two sexual addictions, drinking, smoking, and, yes, caffeine. All because I gave in to His voice, to His Love.

So tonight, in the middle of the late night shenanigans, I will be with Him. In the very hours when I used to be doing those same things, I will be with Him, in His glory, being perpetually adored for the first time in 40 years. Whether I am sitting there or kneeling there, I don’t know how well I’ll be praying for the revelers. I don’t know what I’ll be saying, or if I’ll be able to listen to the Lord. I hope I can stay awake. But when I hear the partiers outside I will know that I don’t belong to that life anymore. I’ll know very clearly that He has taken me from all that.

Now I’m with Him. Now I belong to Him.

You see, in His own resurrection to glory, in His greatest moment, He’ll show me my own resurrection.

His resurrection is for mine.

Do you remember Mary Magdalene? The Lord had cast seven demons out of her, and on the morning of His resurrection, He appeared to her first. Now when he rose early on the first day of the week, he appeared first to Mary Magdalene, from whom he had cast out seven demons. (Mk 16:9)

Why is she the first one He visited? I think I know.

Because that was the very hour when she used to be most trapped by those demons. That’s the hour that she used to be most separated from God. So, that’s the hour that she adores Him most. He stood before her resurrected and showed her that she doesn’t belong to those things anymore. She is with Him, she belongs to Him. To put it in a nutshell, He showed her her own resurrection, and that her resurrection is the reason for His.

Jesus’ victory isn’t to be in heaven. The Son has always has been in heaven with the Father and the Holy Spirit. The Holy Trinity is eternal, right? So no, the real victory of His resurrection isn’t His own.

It’s ours.

But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have fallen asleep. For as by a man came death, by a man has come also the resurrection of the dead. For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive. But each in his own order: Christ the first fruits, then at his coming those who belong to Christ. (1 Cor 15:20-23)

The Lord comes to free us, He comes to take us out of all the things that separate us from God and hold us back from fulfillment. Nothing is impossible for Him, and there is no trap that His Mercy does not have a release for. If you think you are separated from God, if you can’t find fulfillment in life, go to His Heart. He is the only one able to give us a resurrection, and He desires it the most.

Because His resurrection has its victory in ours.

Happy Solemnity of the Assumption!

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Unlocking The Kingdom

Friday, August 14th, 2009

My friend Nate and I have been working on my father’s house this summer, and one of the tasks on the to do list was to put in some new locks and door handles.

Now, the main front door of the house has a lock that is probably as old as the house. It’s a deadbolt with a key hole on each side. It’s rock solid and has a specialized cut to it. So, because a new lock wouldn’t fit the same way, and because this original is so solid and has the nostalgia factor going for it, it was decided that it would be best to keep the old lock and spruce it up. Nate offered to polish it. And a few days ago, he brought it back.

Wow, did it look good. As long as I’ve been alive, it had always looked dull and blackened, but now it was shiny brass. Great, I thought.

But Nate said there’s one problem.

It doesn’t work.

What? I put the key in and turned. Nothing. It didn’t work.

We tried assembling it on the door, and that didn’t help. I thought maybe the brass cleaner had just clogged it up. So, we tried WD-40. Then we tried WD-40 again. And then again. But whatever we tried, it still wasn’t working. Finally, I said, “Nate, let’s go to a locksmith. He’ll know. There’s probably something simple that we’re missing.”

So we went up the street to the locksmith.

“Hello, I have this lock, and it doesn’t seem to be working. We polished it up, and I think brass polish might have clogged it or something. We used a little WD-40 on it.” I handed him the lock, and WD-40 oozed out of all it’s crevices.

He took the lock and the key and started working it. He flipped it over, rotated it, turned the key, and played with a little piece on the back of it, a piece that we couldn’t figure out. Then he put the odd little piece in just the right position, and viola. “It works,” he said. He took a marker and marked on the lock how the odd little piece should be positioned for it to work.

Can I give you something for this? No.

And that was it. Two minutes, if that, and the key was opening the lock.

Nate laughed, “How embarrassing. I feel this big.”

“This is great!” I laughed. “The lock works!”

Each of us, like Peter, has been given the keys to God’s Kingdom. “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven.” (Mt 16:19) In the Church, we are given all the things we need to unlock the Kingdom and enter. But what happens if you’re confused by them? What happens if you struggle to put things together and use them?

What happens when your key doesn’t open the lock?

Then it’s time to go to the Locksmith. If you try to do it yourself, it becomes a mess. But the Locksmith will know. A few twists and turns, and He’ll get the key working. You have to be little, you have to be ready to feel “this big”, but it’s worth it.

You get the Kingdom of heaven.

“Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them; for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.” (Mt 19:14)

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Perpetual Eucharistic Adoration

Thursday, August 13th, 2009


Adoration Sign 1


Perpetual Eucharistic Adoration is returning to the city of Boston for the first time in 40 years, at St. Clement Eucharistic Shrine in the Back Bay. The website is here:

www.adorationboston.org

This Saturday, August 15, on the Solemnity of the Assumption, Cardinal O’Malley will celebrate the 11am Mass at the Shrine and inaugurate perpetual adoration. A few from the community of cloistered nuns who last held perpetual adoration at the Shrine 40 years ago will attend. (The Shrine changed hands a few times before the Oblates of the Virgin Mary received it in the late 70’s.)

There has been a lot of local and national coverage, including Catholic.org, American Papist, CatholicTV, the front page of the Boston Globe, and on Cardinal O’Malley’s blog. There are also ads on two billboards in Boston (the picture at the top of this page), on a few places in the subway system (the one below), and in many parishes.

Anyone who is local, Catholic or not, please feel free to come by and adore. And if you’re not local, please pray for continued adoration at the Shrine!

Adoration Sign 2
The ad poster on the Green Line

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Francobollo

Monday, August 3rd, 2009

While I was in Italy in June, I spent some time in Assisi. So one day, I went to the post office to mail a bunch of postcards. When I got there, my heart sank. The line was almost to the front door. At the first window a woman was impatiently waiting, and the person behind the glass was busy doing something.

A few minutes went by and nothing. Everyone in the place knows each other, everyone’s chatting. Post office in Italy. It’s gonna be a looong wait.

So, I started praying.

Well anyways, a woman came to stand behind me in line, and the man in front of me apparently knew her. So, he leans over my shoulder, with no regard for the concept of personal space, and begins having a friendly chat with the woman behind me. I continued praying. “Italy,” I’m thinking. “So be it.”

So after a nice 5 minute chat over my right shoulder that I wasn’t included in and couldn’t understand at all, he turns back and sees my miraculous medal around my neck. Suddenly, without saying anything, he reaches out and picks it up into his hand. Then he says something in Italian that I don’t understand. He reaches into his wallet fishing around, and now the woman behind me is into it too – she pulls out her wallet. The man couldn’t find what he was looking for, but the woman took out a handful of miraculous medals and said some things I couldn’t understand.

We all admired.

“Italy,” I’m thinking again. “So be it.”

Meanwhile, the line hasn’t moved. The same woman is standing by the window at the front, and the postal worker is still doing something. I thought, maybe I can get stamps somewhere else. Maybe someone can help me find another place.

Out came … the phrasebook.

I thumbed through quickly, looking for “stamp”. There it was:

Francobollo.

I pointed to where the stamp goes on a postcard and asked the woman behind me in my broken Italian where I could get stamps. “Scuzi, dov e francobollo?” She indicated a place up the street. I asked how much they cost. She didn’t know. It looked like I was stuck waiting in the line. So much for francobollo.

Well, just then, the strangest thing happened.

Suddenly, I heard the man in front of me say, “Francobollo.” Next thing, he’s talking to the people in the line, and the whole place. He turns back to me, and motions me to go ahead of him. I start hearing “francobollo” from everywhere. I didn’t understand what was going on. Are they going to have some fun with the American?

Well, this is what happened: the whole line parted in front of me, and everyone motioned me to the very front of the line.

I was thinking, “This is Italy – somebody is not gonna be happy about this.”

But everyone was. And they were smiling!

I couldn’t believe it. Even the woman, the one who had been standing at the window all this time, she stepped aside too.

Now I was all alone at the very front of the line, standing at the window.

I leaned forward and said in my best Italian, “Francobollo?” How many? Six.

I got the six stamps and walked out in complete amazement. The whole way I thanked everyone. Gratzie, gratzie, gratzie. They thought nothing of it. Amazing!

What happened?

Well, francobollo in Italian doesn’t just mean “stamp”.

It also means “miniature”.

What if I wasn’t praying, and what if I got impatient and got a little offended by the man leaning into my space and over my own shoulder. What if I responded with a little reprimand, or moved away. What if, when he took the very medal around my neck into his own hand without asking, what if I got angry with him, pulled back and tried to mutter something in broken Italian? What if I thought myself above that Italian culture?

What if I didn’t have the spirit of “So be it”? What if I wasn’t francobollo?

Do you think he would have gotten the whole line to part for me? Do you think I would have gotten the francobollo treatment? No, I think I might still be waiting in that line.

When the angel Gabriel came to Mary, he was bringing her news that she was going to go from last to first. She was going to go from the very lowest slave of God to Mother of God. There is no lowest place and no highest place in all creation.

Why?

Because she was francobollo. “Let it be done to me according to your word.” (Lk 1:38) So be it.

If you have a difficult situation in your life, if you feel as if you’re last in line with other places to be and it seems like other people are not quite helping the matter, be francobollo with Mary. And God will raise you up with her. “Whoever humbles himself like this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” (Mt 18:4)

In Italy, it’s the francobollo treatment.

So be it!

Francobollo

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