Newlyweds in Italy: More Days in Rome

July 4-6, 1996

My travel journal records many adventures we had in our remaining days in Rome. We visited the Vatican museums and the Sistine Chapel, took lots of walks, had picnics with fresh cheeses and wine and oranges that fell from the trees.

We saw the ruins, and went, of course, to the Colosseum (when I lived in Rome, I used to walk by the Colosseum several times a day, to the point where I began to think of it as "the place that's full of cats at night"). We went to catacombs, churches, and basilicas, where we prayed and gazed at the art and architecture of the centuries: byzantine mosaics, medieval statuary, Caravaggio. We ate in restaurants and spent time with some of our Italian friends.

My journal especially notes that we visited the great Jesuit churches in the center of Rome. Here one can find real masterpieces of the Baroque period, that are so brilliant and so much better than the cheap 19th century imitations that one finds in many Italian churches (and used to find in American churches). This is what I said about Jesuit high baroque in the journal, in 1996:

Here the Baroque style achieves its real grandeur: a great, symphonic jubilation in which heaven and earth are embraced and joined together by means of the spiritual ardor of the Christian personality. The "inscape" of Ignatius's charism and the impetus of the Jesuit mission are here expressed in a baroque sensuousness that is at the same time truly iconic. We are given an "artifact," a work fashioned by human perception and skill, that has a truly "sacramental" quality; it is a means for the contemplative encounter between man and the mystery of God.... Here baroque excess works. It serves as an icon for the excess of love.

Batoli's "Sacred Heart" in the Chiesa Gesu:
the real thing, that has been copied (most of
the time badly) for over 300 years. We have
a photo of the real Batoli in our living room.

I wrote a lot of stuff like this in the journal. Yes, it was our honeymoon, and I was tinkering with thoughts about the difference between an "icon" and a picture that is simply a work of art with a religious theme. I was convinced that there was still iconography (in a theological sense) in post-medieval Western art forms. I'm always thinking about something!

I was really lucky that Eileen fell in love with me.

That and more! She inspired me and encouraged me to ponder things, and over the years she has filled in many gaps in my own understanding with her literary expertise, her exquisite poetic sense, and her perspective as a woman and (now) a mother.

By the time of our wedding, Eileen and I had already been friends for six years, and for much of that time it was a friendship over a distance of a thousand-or-more miles, in the days when the "social media" were the telephone and the Post Office. We used both extensively to communicate with each other, keeping up the friendship we had formed in 1990, when Eileen lived in Washington, DC and we had first met and spent time together. We became quite close, and remained so over time and distance. But for a long time -- because of a variety of circumstances and commitments -- our relationship didn't have the chance to take the further step that, in retrospect, seems so obvious and natural.

Still, we always had (and still have) a true "intellectual friendship." Really, I'm serious. This has nothing to do with "platonic love," but rather with the fact that we always wanted to be together looking at all kinds of things, asking questions, and trying to understand them. We were two people who were interested in... well... pretty much everything. But our interest was (is) expressed in complementary ways. Thank God!

When we were finally in the same place again, and the circumstances of our lives were clear, it became a simple thing to see that we loved each other. That wasn't until 1995. But it finally did happen.

I am so out-of-this-world grateful that God brought us together.

We spent a week and a half in Rome, and then we were ready to head to Assisi, to continue our pilgrimage, our explorations, our honeymoon. And it really was a honeymoon! All of the depth and fascination of these places did not distract us from each other; on the contrary it enriched our experience of being together. We were newlyweds, and we were living for the first time the adventure of being married. Our lives were growing together in new ways.

Its a Miracle Indeed!

We have recently heard the beautiful (but not unexpected) news that Pope Francis has given his final approval for the canonization of Blessed John Paul II. A very rigorous scientific, theological, and ecclesiastical investigation has given its recognition to what the Church calls a miracle.

A woman in Costa Rica was completely healed of a cerebral hemorrhage shortly after watching John Paul II's beatification on television. She has testified that she heard him speak to her from a magazine picture.

At this point, people might start rolling their eyes. But this is not the end of the story. Her doctor was amazed to find that her brain hemorrhage (which was of a particular kind, and which neurologists have subjected to very careful study) was simply gone... without a trace. It wasn't a "reversal," or a remission or some kind of gradual (albeit unusual) healing process. It had simply disappeared.

People get "the willies" when they hear this kind of stuff. People say, "ho, there must be some natural explanation...."

This is not an unreasonable reaction. In fact, no one gets "the willies" about these things more than the Catholic Church. The Church receives so many reports of "miracles" that all the hard drives and clouds of the cyberworld do not have enough bytes to hold the data that would be needed to contain them! The vast majority of these phenomena are handled by the pastoral care of local churches. Very few reports make it to the Vatican. And the vast majority of those reports, even, don't pass the Vatican's tremendously strict scientific standards.

But in this case, the doctor, his professional colleagues, and other experts were amazed. The woman was tested further. The amazement only grew.

But even the amazement of scientists is not enough for the Church.

When considering a reported miracle in a canonization cause, the Church asks scientists if there is any possible natural explanation for what has taken place. Scientists have to go beyond what they immediately see, in order to consider what might be possible.

Finally, the report goes to the medical board of the Congregation for the Causes of the Saints. A panel of experts is assembled. Non-believing scientists are welcome, indeed encouraged to participate. This panel passes on their assessment, and only if they have concluded that the event cannot be explained by natural causes does the report proceed to the next stages of evaluation.

For all practical purposes, its impossible to cheat this process. Contrary to widespread prejudice, the Church is not credulous or superstitious. The formal recognition of a miracle comes only after an extremely cautious and rationally exhaustive investigation by scientists, i.e. people who work in their fields and who do not work for the Church.

Only at this point does the Church's authority take up the consideration of the event as a special divine action, and whether or not it can be directly linked to the prayers of a figure being considered for sainthood.

The term miracle is often misunderstood. A miracle is an event that takes place through the extraordinary intervention of God in the world. A miracle is a work of God. When a person prays to a saint for a miracle, the result is not that the saint performs it by his or her own power. Rather the saint, who remains united with people on earth as a brother or sister in God's great family of love in Christ, prays to God with the person and for the person. If God wills it, He performs the miracle in response to the prayers of the saint.

Sometimes we say, "Saint Joseph cured me," but this is a kind of shorthand. What we mean by this is that "God cured me in answer to the prayers of St. Joseph" or "through the intercession of St. Joseph."

Of course, everything is a miracle, in a way. Everything comes from the Mystery of God who creates and sustains all things in their being and activity. But the God who utterly transcends all things can act with a special expression of His power and love that goes "beyond" the order of the universe that He creates and sustains. These are the "miracles" -- the "works of wonder" -- in which He reveals and communicates in a more profound way His goodness within the world.

The fundamental "miracle" at the center of the whole universe and in the life of every person is the stunning fact that God took on our human nature and became one of us, and that He dwells with us in Jesus Christ who lives in the Church.

The focus of the life of the Church is the miracle of the Eucharist in which Jesus is substantially present -- body, blood, soul, and divinity -- under the appearances of bread and wine. The Eucharist is not a merely symbolic commemoration of something that happened two thousand years ago. It is Christ present, here and now, so that crucified love can enter into and transform you and me. This is a miracle indeed.

It is also a miracle that the human being is raised up in Christ to a participation in the life of God, who is the communion of Eternal Love. And the human being sees more and more that the miracles of God's love are everywhere, penetrating every circumstance with His presence.

It is not surprising that we believe in miracles. We are called to a miraculous life of communion with God.

It is helpful to us and to the world, however, that God's power and love sometimes flow over into further wonders. Sometimes God manifests His saving presence in a special and unusual way that results in concrete effects that can be analyzed (up to a point) by human understanding within the more mundane realms of the empirical sciences, or even in a way that is evident to the simple observation of the human senses.

These are the kind of events we tend to call "miracles" -- the blind see, the lame walk, the withered hand is restored before one's very eyes, ravaging diseases disappear. These things happen in ways that can't be accounted for by ordinary causes; they go beyond anything that can be explained by the internal workings of the universe. They are special acts that have God's signature upon them -- special interventions of God's power, authority, goodness, and compassion.

It is important to emphasize again that only God can perform miracles. Jesus did such things on His own authority as a way of manifesting that He was God. A created person, however, can at most be an instrument or an occasion for a miracle, which remains the expression of God's sovereign power. It is the furthest thing from any kind of trick or abnormal event brought about by a person's harnessing of some hidden intraworldly power. It is not magic or fakery or superstition. It is the hand of God at work in our midst

The Church looks for a true manifestation of God's presence, power, authority and love in action -- a publicly verifiable "miracle" -- when she canonizes a saint. This is because the veneration of the saints involves the public invocation of their prayers by the Church in her liturgical worship, and the saints being proposed as special friends and helpers in the lives of the faithful. The life of the saint who is now in glory can be set forth for the inspiration and imitation of others. And the faithful are encouraged to pray to them with confidence. Through miracles, God gives clear signs that He wills to continue to spread His love in the world in particular ways through the prayers of the saints who live eternally in Jesus Christ.

Newlyweds in Italy: Meeting Blessed John Paul II

"This was a day of a truly incredible blessing."

Travel Journal, Wednesday, July 3, 1996 

On the previous day, my new wife and I had obtained "Sposi Novelli" tickets to Pope John Paul II's Wednesday audience. The first several rows in front of the hall were reserved for various groups, including newlyweds. We thought we might have a close look at the Pope, from those front rows.

But as we boarded the bus back from the Vatican on Tuesday afternoon, we saw an old friend of mine, Fr. Sylvester Catallo, a Capuchin priest who could have been Padre Pio's twin, and who had been pastor of St. John the Evangelist in Woodstock, Virginia years ago, when I was in college. I had taught CCD there in 1982. He and his pilgrimage group were getting off the bus, so we spoke briefly. We told him about the tickets, and he said something very important: "Go and get on the line first thing in the morning. Get there as early as you can. If you get seats in the front row you can meet the Pope!"

We arrived on Wednesday morning before 9:00 AM, and the Swiss Guards took us through a special entrance. Thus we found seats in the front row of the Paul VI Audience Hall, right behind the famous waist-high barricade that one always used to see in pictures of the Pope greeting people at the General Audiences. In time we would see how right Fr. Sylvester had been. The area was soon packed with people as was the rest of the hall. Only those in front, scrunched against the barricade, had any chance of touching the Pope much less speaking with him personally. But we would make the most of our chance.

The Pope arrived at noon and spoke to the crowded hall. He received delegations and greeted pilgrims from different nationalities, who responded in the crowd with cheers and the waving of flags and banners. And here we take up the travel journal:

Finally, the Pope began to make his way along the front of the crowd. We were crunched on every side. When he came close, there was something that I sensed for the first time (after having seen the Pope so many times from a distance) -- the simple human warmth, the affectionate nature, and also the human vulnerability, the enormous vulnerability of this man who is not a "religious superstar," but who is a man, created with a need to love and to be loved.

When he stood before me and Eileen, we touched him and embraced him (burying face, lips, anything available, against his hands and arms) as though he were our Grandpa. Without any loss of reverence, we were filled with an overflowing and spontaneous affection, a familial affection.

We had a brief conversation. We told the Pope that were were from America, that we were newlyweds on pilgrimage to Rome, and that we desired his blessing on our marriage. And so the Pope placed his hand on each of our heads and traced the sign of the Cross while pronouncing his benediction.

We spoke for a moment. We gave him one of our wedding cards with the verses from John 17 ("that they may be one..."). Above all, we told him that we loved him. He looked tenderly into Eileen's eyes, and then he patted me on the cheek (as shown in the Vatican Press Office photograph, one of several we were able to purchase later on).

Finally, he began to move on, greeting others who stuck their hands out next to us, speaking again in Italian. [But I couldn't suppress my overflowing, excessive nature, and for once I'm glad I didn't.] I shouted to him one last time, "We love you, Holy Father!" And as he continued down the row, he spoke again very distinctly in English, "God bless you."

And so our marriage was blessed, personally, by the Pope. Also, I believe, we gave something to him; we were able to express personally to him the affection we have for him on account of the love and the suffering that shape his whole mission, and through which he has given us so much. And I think that we gave him comfort -- we stayed with him, even if only for a moment, and our companionship with him in Christ was evident, and was a source of strength for us and also for him.

We believe we received a great grace on this day, seventeen years ago. And now with our five children and many years of joys and trials, we have seen this grace continue to unfold in our marriage and family life. For his part, Blessed John Paul II (now on the threshold of being declared a canonized saint) offered his sufferings for the Church and for every human being during the rest of his life, and in the remaining eight-and-a-half years of his long Way of the Cross he carried us along with so many others. Then, almost from the moment of his death, I sensed with confidence his intercessory closeness, his new way of continuing a companionship with us.

This picture is now a uniquely personal icon in our dining room. The greatest saint of our times -- and this great apostle of the sanctity of marriage and the family -- seems to be holding me and Eileen in his strong arms, and I know that his prayers accompany us in suffering and many trials. Every day I pray for his intercession: "Hold on to us, keep us always together, and obtain for us God's blessing."

His intercession is powerful before God, and I know that he will pray in the same way for any couple who invokes his aid, or any person.

A Simple Contemplative Prayer

Pope Francis speaks about the Rosary:

I would like to underscore the beauty of a simple contemplative prayer, accessible to all, great and small, educated and not very educated; it is the prayer of the Holy Rosary.

In the Rosary we address the Virgin Mary, so that she will lead us to an ever closer union with her Son Jesus to be conformed to Him, to have his sentiments, to act like Him.

In the Rosary, in fact, by repeating the “Hail Mary,” we meditate on the Mysteries, the events of the life of Christ to know and love Him ever more.

The Rosary is an effective instrument to open ourselves to God, because it helps us to overcome our egoism and to have peace in our hearts, in our families, in society and in the world.

Pope Francis

(speaking to Lithuanian youth, 7/1/2013)

Newlyweds in Italy: Angelus and a Sunday Afternoon

View of Rome from the Janiculum

June 30, 1996.

After having glimpsed Pope John Paul II the previous day, we headed for St. Peter's again, for Mass and then out into the crowded square for the Sunday Angelus, which the Pope leads from the balcony window of the papal apartments. Here's what I wrote about that event, seventeen years ago, in my travel journal:

We went out into St. Peter's Square for the Sunday Angelus. I felt almost a physical hunger to see the Pope again (at whatever distance) and to pray with him. Deeper for me than anything else in this vast encounter between the Pope and his people is the simple gesture of praying the Angelus with him. In that moment, we are together with the Successor of St. Peter in a single action -- the highest and most intimate of all actions, the action of prayer. My own prayer is profoundly confirmed when it accompanies his.

This was anything but an ordinary honeymoon. It was a time of pilgrimage and blessing. It was also a time to revisit beloved ancient and beautiful places (for the first time together), and to explore and discover new things. And of course we had a lot of fun.

We spent the afternoon walking in the city. Of course, both of us being culture nerds, this was tremendous fun. In fact, my travel diary is full of aesthetic, architectural and historical observation and analysis... but these are all things we talked about and enjoyed together. And words came after vision. Eileen and I love being together and contemplating great and beautiful things. Perhaps that sounds hokey, but its true.

The church of Santa Maria in Cosmedian

It was a bright Sunday afternoon, so we got some panini (sandwiches) and walked up the Janiculum hill. From there we were able to take in one of Rome's fabulous city scapes. As anyone who has been to Rome knows, one can spend a lot of time just looking at the city from various vistas. What one sees is not just a pretty town; one sees the centuries of living, breathing history.

After this, we walked back down, across the Tiber island and into the wonderful Santa Maria in Cosmedian. We marveled together at the dark, ancient simplicity of this church, which is one of Eileen's favorites.

Don't tell a lie!

The famous "bocca della verita" is on the portico outside this church. There is an old tradition of putting your hand in its mouth to prove the truth of what you say, because the "mouth of truth" was said to bite the hand of anyone who told a lie. I know I hammed it up for a photograph here, but I don't know what's become of that picture. We're still trying to find the pictures.

Another important aspect of this adventure which both of us heartily enjoyed together, of course, was food. We hunted for the trattoria popular with the natives whenever possible, or a small restaurant in some corner of an alley.

According tho my travel diary, the day ended with a "remarkable salmon pasta." And plenty of good table wine, as I remember.

Newlyweds in Italy: Remembering Our First Adventures Together

We were here... a week after our wedding

June 29, 1996.

I am reading the journal of the trip that my bride and I took seventeen years ago. I'm glad that I kept a travel journal; it revives the inner experience of places and times in a way that can only be done by the written word. Or perhaps that's just my personal bias, because I am a writer.

In any case, I think that this year we will review the journal in detail, and hopefully dig up some of the bulky old "photo albums" full of pictures.

As I have said before, Eileen and I are both "Romans" by virtue of the (different) times we each lived and studied there in our youth, and by our great excursion together at the beginning of our married life.

We spent three and a half weeks in Italy for our honeymoon back in 1996. We were able to make this trip because we didn't seek a "lovers' solitude" experience; we spent all but five nights at the homes of friends. It was a real trek, from Rome to Assisi to Florence to Ravenna to Milan to the Italian Riviera. I'm so glad we did it then, when we had the time and the energy of our youth. I'm glad that, while we were still able, we rode trains and buses, slept on floors or (worse) the infamous Italian "letto," and hauled bags that got bigger and bigger as we accumulated loot along the way! I recommend this kind of honeymoon for you young folks, especially if you are humanities buffs like us. Trust me, you will never be able to throw yourselves about with such freedom as in these early days of marriage. Soon come the babies, and then come the bad backs and the arthritis. Youth is the time to explore, to rough it, to have an adventure, especially with your spouse. Go somewhere beautiful and fascinating, full of human history and aesthetic richness. Or go on pilgrimage to the places where God's love has touched the world. You will build a foundation of common experience that will stay with you forever.

In Rome we spent a week and a half at an apartment not far from the Vatican, with a friend's mother. This lovely old woman cleared a room for us, made coffee for us every morning, and often fed us abundantly in the kitchen at night (even if we had already eaten). I have never found a restaurant that can match the culinary magic that happens in the simple Italian kitchen. Oh, my my!

We went to all our favorite spots in Rome and shared them together. We brought our newly married life to the tomb of St. Peter, and prayed a long time. We explored churches and ruins and great art. June 29th sticks in my mind because we went to St. Peter's basilica for the ceremony in which the Pope (then Blessed John Paul II) invests new Archbishops with the pallium, a woolen band worn as a sign of their particular responsibility and their communion with the Pope.

It was a beautiful ceremony, very crowded of course, so that we barely had a glimpse of the Pope. But we were so happy just to share in this beautiful event with him. Afterwards, in the midst of the crowds, we bumped into a little bishop from Malaysia and struck up a conversation with him. He was the first bishop to bless our marriage.

I wonder where he is today. We never did get his name.

Among many things, Rome is also a place of unusual meetings and unexpected changes in plans. It is a place where all the cultures of the world gather, dialogue with one another, and celebrate together the One who brings true unity to the whole human family.

Some wonderful surprises awaited us, as well as one of the singular graces that would shape our whole married and family life. I hope to share some direct excerpts from the travel journal in forthcoming blogs.

He Waits For Us; He Walks With Us

The Lord takes His time.

But even He,
in this relationship with us,
has a lot of patience.
Not only do we have to have patience:
He has! He waits for us!
And He waits for us until the end of life!

Think of the good thief,
right at the end,
at the very end,
he acknowledged God.

The Lord walks with us,
but often does not reveal Himself,
as in the case
of the disciples of Emmaus.
The Lord is involved in our lives,
that's for sure!
But often we do not see.
This demands our patience.

But the Lord who walks with us,
He also has a lot of patience with us.

~Pope Francis

Rescue Me, Lord, From My Enemies

I began the day with Psalm 143. "Rescue me, Lord, from my enemies," says this prayer. "Put an end to my foes...." The Psalms often express the hope that God will destroy enemies, blot them out, make an end to them.

Its not surprising that the world appears to be dominated by ideologies and agendas that ignore God's wisdom, God's love, God's tenderness, God's peace. Followers of Jesus may be tempted to discouragement.  But difficult times call for a deeper adherence to Him. Jesus told His disciples, "In the world you face persecution. But take courage; I have conquered the world!" (John 16:33).

I take much confidence in this Psalm, because I am praying that God will give me His grace in my struggle against "my enemies," and that He will defeat them utterly; indeed that they have already been conquered in Christ. These are the "enemies" I find within myself, my own sins, bad habits, and weaknesses. My enemies are the distress and frustration that weigh upon my soul, the smallness of my faith and love and trust.

The only enemies that can truly harm me are the sins and resistance in me that hold me back from giving myself in trusting love to God, in whatever circumstances He has placed me.  And so I must hope, I must pray and struggle, I must get up off the ground again and again and rejoin the battle to conquer myself so that I might belong to Him.


Psalm 143

Lord, listen to my prayer:
turn your ear to my appeal.
You are faithful, you are just; give answer.
Do not call your servant to judgment
for no one is just in your sight.

The enemy pursues my soul;
he has crushed my life to the ground;
he has made me dwell in darkness
like the dead, long forgotten.
Therefore my spirit fails;
my heart is numb within me.

I remember the days that are past:
I ponder all your works.
I muse on what your hand has wrought
and to you I stretch out my hands.
Like a parched land my soul thirsts for you.

Lord, make haste and answer;
for my spirit fails within me.
Do not hide your face
lest I become like those in the grave.

In the morning let me know your love
for I put my trust in you.
Make me know the way I should walk:
to you I lift up my soul.

Rescue me, Lord, from my enemies;
I have fled to you for refuge.
Teach me to do your will
for you, O Lord, are my God.
Let your good spirit guide me
in ways that are level and smooth.

For your name’s sake, Lord, save my life;
in your justice save my soul from distress.

In your mercy put an end to my foes;

all those who are oppressing my soul,

for I am your servant.

Who Will Forgive Me When I Fail?

I once heard our culture described as a place where "everything is permitted, and nothing is forgiven." There is much truth in that assessment. I think this is one of the reasons why so many people are anxiously trying these days to change moral norms so as to accommodate actions that humanity's moral conscience has always rejected in the past.

Deep down, people don't believe in forgiveness. They may talk about it, but in their hearts they don't really think its possible.

I can understand why people feel that way. Sometimes I feel that way myself. If I see "myself" as consisting in an autonomous project of self-definition, a project that I carry out alone, I will run into my own limitations everywhere. I will always fall short. And if I am truly alone, what can I do when I fail, other than condemn myself and suffer the condemnation of others?

When we find ourselves in this situation, we think that perhaps "society" can rescue us.

Thus we try to bend the moral norms, so that we can define our failures as success, and demand that others do the same. This can only be brought about by a refusal to look at reality, and by doing violence to ourselves and others. This violence, in turn, must be justified and redefined. We are afraid to be alone with the horror of what we have made of ourselves.

But perhaps our culture may begin to notice that redefining the standards of what it means to be human, among other things, doesn't work. We still bump into our own limitations, everywhere. We have seen that we can't follow with total coherence the meaning that is inherent to our humanity (and we're afraid to admit it). So we try to change that meaning, and to reshape society so that it supports what we think is a more attainable idea of human dignity. In the process, however, we have to establish a whole set of new rules. And, as it turns out, we're no good at keeping these rules either. We feel even less coherent, and even more alienated than ever, and we don't know where to turn.

We who claim to be "free" are in fact a society obsessed with guilt, terrified of failure, and full of self-loathing. We have succeeded in manipulating our understanding of humanity and creating our own rules. But when we look at our personal and social lives, everything is more messed up than it was before! So, we flee into addictions in a desperate effort to distract ourselves. Or we try to use will power to suppress our inner pain, to plug up all the real human anguish and longing that keeps spilling through the cracks and into our awareness. 

To put it simply: we are not happy.

We experience ourselves as failures, sooner or later. We condemn ourselves by our own rules, and we can't imagine the possibility of forgiveness because each of us feels more alone than ever with the confusion of who we are and the mess of what we have chosen to do. More alone than ever....

But what if I am not "alone"?

What if the core of my person consists in "belonging-to-Another"? What if my real life is in fact a relationship with the Source of all meaning and goodness? And what if I begin to realize that my very be-ing in this moment is the result of the fact that I am being loved by the One who is Infinite Love?

If this is true, then I am "good" and my humanity is a gift. A precious gift. I am precious to Someone. And when I fail, I can seek forgiveness. I can hope that the One who is Good will make me good. This hope is written on my heart, and I do not need to suffocate it. There is forgiveness.

Do We Have "The Master Theory"?

Yeah, man. We are RIGHT!

"Christianity" or "Catholicism"... 

In the end, is it just another "ism"? Is it just another theory, perhaps the Master Theory, but in the end nothing but a system for fixing and organizing the world? Or is it simply the case that, in the contest in which people make competing claims about the meaning of life, my group makes the right ones? In the end, everyone will see that our Party is the Party of God. We will win at last!!! Huh?

But Jesus did not come for this; He brings so much more than any "ism" that could be domesticated by human thinking or justify the self-exaltation of particular human beings or groups. Jesus did not come to bring us "the official ideology approved by God." This would not be enough for us -- for the implacable desire for the fullness of life that we each carry around inside us.

It is very easy to think of Christianity as a bunch of stuff we have to do (or not do), because God and the Church say so, but if we think this way, we will find ourselves trying to negotiate and integrate this rather burdensome collection of stuff into our lives. We need to ask ourselves, "Is this how I try to live my faith? Is this how I present it to others?"

The rest of the world often views Christianity as a collection of external rules that more or less interfere with real life, that is, with the aspect of life that interests and engages us as persons. What a grim business! No wonder people are not attracted to it.

I must beware that I do not allow this kind of moralism to become my own view of Christianity. I must remember that Christianity is a new life, a supernatural life, a life of communion with God. In Jesus, God Himself came into history, so that He might share His life with us. The life that Jesus offers us fulfills and transforms our hearts. This is what is interesting.

Through baptism, I have been given a participation in the Divine life, and through grace this life grows within me and transforms me. God gives Himself to me; He draws me into a personal relationship with Himself; He leads me to my destiny which is to share forever in His glory, to behold and to love forever the One who is the fullness of all goodness, to belong to Him forever.

Eternal glory has already begun, secretly, in the very heart of this ordinary life, because God dwells in me, and God is at work in my life. But why am I so dull and unaware? Because I need the light of the Holy Spirit to show me the path He has laid out before me. Christianity is not external to the real concerns of my life. It illuminates them and opens me up to their true meaning. But this only happens if I live the relationship with God that He continually desires to deepen throughout my life.

And how can I live and grow in a relationship with Eternal Love except by asking for Him to change me, asking for Him to empower me to love Him more, asking Him to enable me to see the Church as the instrument of His love, and her teachings as the road of love that really corresponds to my life? I want Him to "come" into my life, deepen my relationship with Him, and make me more aware of His presence. This is why I must ask, continually, for the gift of the Holy Spirit to be renewed within me. This is why my whole heart has to be a living, loving, begging prayer for God's grace.

Our Happy Anniversary

The beautiful bride, and the groom at their wedding reception

It is June 22, 1996. Here's the happy, youthful, energetic newly married couple. Well, they're a bit "mature" -- he's 33 and she's 29. Both have pursued advanced academic study and are professional teachers. But they are younger than they realize, and have yet to learn many amazing, beautiful, and difficult things in life.

A few days after the wedding, they'll go to Rome and Italy for a three and a half week honeymoon. Both of them have lived in Italy before (at different times), and they intend to revisit sites, get together with old friends, contemplate great works of art, embark on religious pilgrimages, and eat lots of good food.

Cellphones in 1996!
Did you have one?

Indeed, they would do all these things and more in the coming month. Above all, they would also have a most unexpected personal encounter in Rome. (I'll write more about that later.)

After 17 years, looking at the old wedding pictures (none of which are digital) is a funny experience. Everybody looks "soooooo nineties." And sooooo young. I could scan the wedding album and tag all kinds of people and they would say, "Whoa, is that me?" But that would be more work than I'm up to now (aren't you glad?), and probably not worth the effort anyway.

When we got married, Eileen's father was only three years older than I am now. Wow!

It was almost a generation ago, and frankly it really does feel that way. I'm always musing about how strange a thing is time, but I feel the growth of those years, the many labors, the suffering, and the joys.

Today, I can't imagine life without Eileen at my side. I also can't imagine that there was ever a time when our five children did not exist. And its hard to believe there was ever a time when I had no beard, or actually even cared about the hair on my head (haha).

But there we were, newly married in 1996. Many new experiences awaited us. The deepest things were circumstances we could not possibly have dreamed. We knew enough to commit ourselves irrevocably to each other and to going through together "whatever might come."

We still don't know what's coming. Nor does any other married couple. There are challenges at every stage of a lifelong commitment. What we learn more and more, however, is how Jesus has consecrated that commitment with His love, through the sacrament of marriage. Christ crucified and risen has placed Himself at the heart of our commitment to each other, and made it a superabundant source of grace so that we might grow together in His likeness. And His presence is a guarantee that we can make it through anything, that our commitment is not based on our weakness but on His faithfulness.

One thing does not surprise me: she's still a beautiful lady. And she always will be.

The One Who Speaks....

"As generous distributors of God’s manifold grace, put your gifts at the service of one another, each in the measure he has received. The one who speaks is to deliver God’s message. The one who serves is to do it with the strength provided by God. Thus, in all of you God is to be glorified through Jesus Christ" (1 Peter 4:10-11).

 Ah, good. There is something for the word-maker to do in the Kingdom.

"Speaking" is a gift from God, a gift of grace. Into all of the insecurity and vanity, and the brilliance touched by madness, the constant tilt of a mind that rises too high, too often, and therefore lacks oxygen, the impossible urge to express what cannot be said -- into this human whirlwind comes grace.

The words we can never find are given to us. And we are charged with a work of service, indeed a work of mercy: deliver God's message!

Here we are with our words and our education; we come not as wise men but as servants. Poor, pallid, wildly creative, brain damaged, exhausted by books and ideas, spent and broken by the failure of human heights, and full of wonder at the grace that is given to us right now, we come to serve. By grace we crawl on the ground and carry the bowl for Jesus as He washes your feet.

Into the Dirt

I know "words" are not worth much. "Words" are what I do: its partially vocation and partially compulsiveness. As my kids say, "blah, blah, blah" (imitation of Daddy).

Really, words are not much. We learn more by getting our butts kicked, and that's why God allows it to happen. We go crying to Him, and it stinks, and we tell Him that it hurts. But He heals us if we trust in Him. That's the gospel.

God goes into the dirt and gets us. For me this is an ongoing, grueling, precarious, and real experience.

I have found so many other people in the same place too.

Spinning the World From My Bed

Europe? No, lets go somewhere else.

Earlier this week I started to get that "I've-been-run-over-by-a-truck" feeling all over (this is a hyperbolic analogy, of course... but this is a realm where one searches desperately for analogies that will work in any way).

And so I put myself to bed. I shouldn't be writing anything. I should just rest. Writing requires too much energy. But I'm writing anyway. I'm stubborn. I've had enough of sleeping, and the mind must be engaged or else it will create its own mischief. Thanks to the internet, I can travel the world without leaving my bed.

Spin the virtual world and see what we find.

Humm, hummmm, hmmmm... States in India. This looks interesting.

Did you know that India has states?

I thought I knew everything about India: Hinduism, Islam, curry, the British, Gandhi, poor people, railroads, Mother Teresa, customer service reps on the phone, snakes, "they make more and more of our stuff these days," tea, the Taj Mahal, population of 1.1 gazillion, monsoons, Bollywood. What else is there to know?

Well, for one thing, they have "states."

Oh, and I almost forgot: Cricket! They play Cricket, the only sport on earth that I find utterly incomprehensible. I get it that you hit this ball, but why? And you run, but why? And you catch and throw, but why? And what exactly are the "wickets" and what is their purpose? And the score ends up being 250-193, and I can't imagine how you score anything at all! What is going on??? But I digress....

My Indian friends know that I'm teasing. Right? Right? Not about Cricket; I don't understand it at all. But I know much more about India and its cultures, and its historic greatness. Still, what I know is mostly through study, conversations with others, and of course media. I appreciate these things, especially when I reflect upon them. But they have not sunk deeply into my imagination. I've never been anywhere near India. I have no experience of India.

So if I just "shake" my subconscious and watch what comes up, the images tend to be things like the Taj Mahal and elephants and mangoes and big dance numbers on screen. But one way to gain some development of imagination is through comparing and contrasting.

So lets look at this. India has states. But they're not like the United States. They're the size of whole countries, in terms of population. Lets look at one Indian state, the most southern one. Its called Tamil Nadu.

Let me focus on just a few things. The Tamil are a very distinctive ethnic group, with their own language and their own script. I kinda knew that already. But there are 70 million of them in the state of Tamil Nadu. That I did not know.

Tamil Nadu is close to the population of Germany.

Tamil Nadu has a higher population than France.

Higher than Italy.

Higher than Spain.

Higher than Great Britain.

Here are 70 million people in the world, members of the human race, my brothers and sisters, each made in the image and likeness of God, and I didn't even know of their existence. Now I do.

And here's another contrast: France is five times the size in land area as Tamil Nadu. France is about the size of Texas. (Maybe further comparison and contrast can enrich my understanding.) So that means that Tamil Nadu is one fifth the size of Texas. Lets get closer to home: this is about 50,000 square miles, which is roughly the same size as the states of Virginia and Maryland together. "We" (I speak as a Virginian) have a combined population of more than 14 million.

Tamil Nadu is geographically about the size of Virginia and Maryland (our fair land, with 14 million people all together).

Tamil Nadu has over 70 million people. People! Human beings. My brothers and sisters. I am grateful that I have come to know you, even from a distance.

Let me be clear: when I look at these numbers, I am not thinking about so-called "over"-population. Human beings are not "problems;" they are creative and intelligent persons. Give them the chance, and they will find beautiful solutions to the material challenges of living together and living well on a larger scale.

Poverty is not caused by too many people. Poverty is caused by too many greedy people. But that's another topic, and now I am sitting up. I do need to rest. Although the pains of one little man don't seem so important in a world so great and so mysterious, so burdened and so hopeful in the face of everything.

Slowing Down For Awhile (Trying Anyway)

Sorry. I'm slowing down the blog and just about everything else these days. I'm having some "red flag" symptoms (ouch! ouch! ouch! ouch! aaaacckk! clunk!) so I'm taking some weight off my feet and off my brain. I hope this is temporary. Please pray for the sick.

Agnese Janaro's Confirmation: A Father's Thoughts

Father and daughter at the reception

Agnese Janaro received the sacrament of Confirmation this past weekend. She took the name of St. Isaac Jogues (yes, you can pick a saint of either gender). She had read about him and was (no doubt) deeply impressed by his extraordinary Christian witness (who wouldn't be?), but she hasn't said much about why she chose him in particular. I am happy to respect her discretion.

I tease my poor girl too much. I want her to be confident that she can grow and have aspirations and try new things without thinking that her father is going to find out and start joking around and making her feel silly. Or that he's going to write about her adventures on his BLOG!

We love her so very much!

A little teasing, now and then, won't hurt her of course. She has her own sense of humor, and a heart inspired by courageous deeds. She is a marvel, and God is shaping her heart in His mysterious ways.

I spoke with her briefly the day before, because I wanted to express simply how much it meant to me in my own life to meet Jesus, to discover Him as a real Person, and to live a relationship with Him with all my desire. This is what matters in my life.

So I said a few awkward words. But more important than any words: does she see this in me, in the way I live the circumstances of my life as her mother's husband, as her father? Does she see this in the way I struggle every day with my disability and the limits it imposes on me; or in my struggles to overcome my sense of frustration and failure, and to battle against my own forgetfulness and the weight of selfishness and my countless petty faults? Does she see that (even with all my goofiness) He is the One who enables me to love her, and is the reason why I love her so much? Do I help her to see, not just in words but in real life, that He is real and He is here and that He loves us all? Do I help her to see that she can trust in His love?

I hope and pray that my life bears some witness to the real Jesus. The most important thing, of course, is that He is already here, with us, with her, already shaping her heart in His mysterious ways. This is the depths of her "self," this relationship that does not belong to me. God is her Father. Jesus and the Holy Spirit open her heart to this love.

But I have been given my own part to play, and I must carry it out in whatever circumstances. I must have the faith that gives me the confidence to get up again and again whenever I fail, and to thus witness through my life that His mercy sustains me.

His mercy is always worthy of trust.

Come Holy Spirit

Come Holy Spirit!

Fill the hearts of Your faithful,
and enkindle in them
the Fire
of Your Love!

No Answer Except Love

We have to admit that life opens up a lot of questions. A living relationship with Jesus, however, encompasses and carries us even in our struggles with questions and problems.

There are times when my own "questions" are not sincere. Rather, they are pretexts for my unwillingness to grow in love. They are expressions of resistance; they come from the places in my soul that I have not yet opened to God. Too often I just want to hide from the recognition of my own sins, because I forget that I have been made to receive the mercy of God, that He wants to fill my emptiness with His love. Or else I am too proud to admit that I am empty, and thus I deprive myself of the beauty of experiencing forgiveness. Why am I so proud?

But there are other kinds of questions, genuine and mysterious questions that have accompanied me for much of my life. I have frustration when I feel like I perceive some truth, but I don't know how to communicate with others. I feel misunderstood by others, or I am restless with the "in a glass, dark" obscurity that always accompanies faith, and that seems to grow deeper even as the experience of faith increases. I have a faith that seeks understanding, and this is a gift, but how can I acknowledge it for what it is while also bearing its limits?

And then there are the daily, very ordinary trials of trying to live with other people, especially my brothers and sisters in Christ. There is nothing romantic about Christian community. Its human, its hard, its a clash of stubborn souls with so many wounds that we hide from ourselves and one another. Often my attempts to "understand" these issues only aggravates them. My mind weaves pretexts for opposition, ideologies for self defense or partisanship, or shallow evasions.

What is the point of these questions? What does Jesus want?

Sometimes Jesus wants to change my heart and sometimes He is asking me to recognize and embrace Him in His suffering, precisely in those issues, in the frailty of myself and others and our sins - this brokenness that He enters and endures, and that has no "answer" except Love.

I believe that Love happens right there. Love happens wherever the pain is, or the incomprehension, or the weakness, the resistance, the secret pride.

Love happens also in the awful burden of the gift of insight, and the patience required to understand what it means, to be humbled by the utter smallness of anything I think I understand, to learn from others who have other gifts, and to discover how to share what I have been given.

I know these difficulties are really for me -- they are places of God's love for me -- because I encounter the Cross in them. The Crucified One is there for me, and of course I hide from Him 99.9999% of the time.

I'm proud. And I'm afraid of the suffering.

But He calls me to let go of my pride, and to acknowledge my sins and experience my need for Him.

"O Lord, I am proud. Make me humble! Give me the grace to be humble and poor, with a heart open to receive Your love and be changed by You!"

He calls me to be not afraid, to trust in Him, to stay with Him and suffer, and that especially is how He wants to change me, and how He has (I hope) already begun to change me.

Sometimes He answers our questions (in part), but always He suffers them in us and calls us to join Him in that suffering.

I am a Rich Man Who Must Beg

How hard it is for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.

I am a rich man. Our family is rich in material possessions and conveniences, in spite of what in the United States of America would be considered our precarious financial circumstances. I could scarcely manage without all the comforts of this fully industrialized and electronically developed society. I do not know where the clothes on my back or the food I eat or the furniture in my home come from, nor what web of unjust socioeconomic relationships govern the paths they travel from their places of origin to my home. I do not know what I or my family can do about the injustice in the world, but it is a reminder to pray to God that the relationships which are within the reach of our freedom may be founded on justice, solidarity, love, and mercy. And it is a reminder that we need to ask the Holy Spirit to transform our minds and open our hearts to the creative possibilities that God gives us to contribute to the common good.

I am a rich man in other ways too. There are riches that I possess in abundance, and that are very much at my disposal: the wealth of talent, capacity for expression, education, and experience in teaching others. I would like to think that here I have given liberally, that I have shared myself, that I have poured out these riches in love. But the truth is that even here I hoard my wealth. It is with these personal riches especially that Jesus says, "Go, sell all you have...follow me."

How much of my "giving" is really self-advancement? Very much, I fear. Images from the gospels resonate with my life: I love the special seats at gatherings, and being called rabbi. I love praying and performing religious acts for people to see, and--I hope--to applaud. I love to show my misery to the world so that everyone knows that I am suffering. It's such a sweet thing to be admired.

And so I have my "reward." I remain rich. I am a fool and a hypocrite. Even this confession of pharisaical behavior right now is really something of a scam; deep down there is that part of me that craves your admiration for my candor. Don't trust me! I don't trust myself!

The flaw, the twist, the self-love, the grasping seem to be a little mixed in with so much of what I do. And so it is, for human flesh and blood. "Forgive us our trespasses," we are taught to pray every day. The assumption, of course, is that we are going to trespass. Jesus doesn't want us to obsess over our faults, but to ask for the Father's mercy, and to be formed according to His will in the school that is this life: "Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."

So we fail, and God is rich in mercy. But there is a special way that we must ask for God's mercy, and that is with the humility of hearts that are themselves merciful. "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us." Here Jesus sums up life. We sin. But others also sin against us. We are hurt. We are betrayed. We are the victims of injustice. We are neglected. But we must forgive others. We must be people of mercy. This is not easy. This is where I experience my powerlessness. Here I must really "sell all I have" and give it away. Here is where following Christ begins. Here is where true riches are to be found.

How can I be merciful to others? I must ask God to enable me to be merciful to others. Everything begins in the position of prayer and poverty before God. Another word for this kind of poverty is trust.

It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.

Now Peter is very perceptive at this point. He cries out, "then who can be saved?" It is more than a matter of economics, although on this level it is important to remember that there are, on the whole, two kinds of people: those who are rich, and those who want to be rich. On the personal level, however, everyone is "rich"--even if all he possesses is "himself." Because we must lose our very selves for His sake.

"For man it is impossible," Jesus says. So we can't trust in our own riches. We can't trust in ourselves!

"But nothing is impossible with God." So return, again and again, to that posture of begging for mercy, and that posture of trust because the God who does the impossible has given Himself to us. He wants to and He will transform us into people of compassion, people who give themselves away, people who follow Him and in Him discover the only true treasure, His Love.

I am a hypocrite and a fool, but I know that God's Mercy is true, and I want it, and I beg for it from God--I beg for it for myself and for the whole world. Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have Mercy on me, a sinner.

Trust in Him in Front of Every Person

In Pope Francis we see a twofold and entirely consistent passion for evangelization and dialogue. Not only is there no contradiction between preaching the truth of Christ and walking with human persons in mutual understanding and love. They are in fact two facets of God's plan to pour out His love and mercy upon the world.

It is the great gift that Jesus has given us in recreating the human race as God's family, wherein God is truly "our Father" and we are really brothers and sisters. This brother/sisterhood is something we know from the life of faith. It is established and vivified in a concrete and visible way through the sacrament of baptism. In baptism we are reborn; eternal life begins in us, and we are able to begin to live this life together in a way that the whole world can see through the great communio of the Church.

Moreover, belonging to Jesus opens our eyes to the fact that we are brothers and sisters of every human person, because every person has been created by our Father's love and has been truly redeemed by Jesus. In becoming human and dying on the Cross, He has embraced every human person right down to their very unique, personal, mysterious depths.

This means of course that we want the whole world to know Him. It also means that we have profound respect for every human person in the intimate dialogue between God's love and their freedom. We witness to Jesus with clarity, consistency, and without tiring; but not because we want to impose our particular culture or ideology on anyone. We witness because we know that He is the meaning and fulfillment of everything. But He does not "belong" to us, as though He were some pretext for our self-exaltation, superiority, and condescension toward others. He does not belong to us; we belong to Him. The fruits of our testimony are entrusted to the mysterious ways of the God who loves and shapes all hearts.

That is why proclaiming the truth of Christ's love for all peoples and for every human being also entails living as true brothers and sisters in this present moment with all those who have been given to us, wherever they come from. We don't need to put Christ and the Church aside to do this. On the contrary, we are called to live and extend faithfully this mystery of Christ's redeeming love wherever we go throughout the world. Thus we seek to live together with everyone in good will, to walk together, to help one another, to listen to and learn from one another about the mystery and struggles of our lives and the inexhaustible longing of our hearts. We live with and love one another always as brothers and sisters.

It is precisely Jesus Himself who makes this life possible. We place our trust in Him in front of every person. We bear witness to that trust by the grace of the Spirit, who inspires our manner of witness according to the steps that Jesus wills to take through us in order to make Himself known in the context of various circumstances and factors of life that are beyond our human knowledge. We bear witness to Him with words that foster understanding and express our own conviction, but always we must beg for the grace to allow His love to be present and to communicate itself through our lives.

And Jesus will give us the freedom to love persons in an exceptional way, and to appreciate the uniqueness of each and every one of them with profound tenderness. He will enable us to affirm with gratitude and to learn from all of the truth, goodness, and beauty that they possess from their religious and cultural heritages, and from their own experiences and understanding of life. He will give us a great compassion for their failures, and a humility about ourselves and the vocation that we all experience, which is to give ourselves in love, and to make room in our hearts so that we can let ourselves be loved.

We must neither impose our faith nor hide it for the sake of some imagined unity. Jesus Himself has established and is building up the unity of the human family, and He calls us in this present life -- in the face of so many obstacles -- to cultivate that unity in truth and love, trusting always in Him.

Her Own Library Card!

There are many rites of passage in the life of a child. The library is one of the first social institutions to recognize a child's capacity to assume responsibility. But they use a lot of big words that are surely beyond the child's understanding. Little people make big commitments, and its a good thing that we are there to back them up.

"Look, Daddy, I got my own library card!"

Josefina is all signed up! :)

Thus another Janaro kid enters the System, and agrees to "accept responsibility...policies and procedures...transactions...and fees incurred...." Got all that, Josefina?