Our world is under the domain of death, sin, hell and Satan. But the invasion, long in preparation, from heaven 2000 years ago succeeded! The battle on earth between heaven and hell will continue until Christ returns. In the meantime, colonies from heaven around the globe flourish in prayer and charity, as they steadily storm the gates of hell (which will not prevail) and prepare for his coming. Our Kingdom aspires to embrace the entire world, even as "the world" despises and assaults it murderously. This network of colonies is called The Church.
Life in Christ is not about achievement, effort, success. It is about connection, communion, abiding. Out of this ordinarily quiet mystical union, flow our shared life of prayer, work, art, adoration, confession of sin, joy, gratitude, acts of mercy, rest, contemplation, serenity, reflection, spiritual warfare, asking for forgiveness, witness, suffering, surrender, and self-giving.
As a son of The Church, I have always been fathered/mothered, protected, encouraged, instructed, corrected, inspired, befriended, mentored...within our Holy Mother the Church...in a splendor of specific communities. Who I am, what I do, my very identity/mission/destiny, anything within me that is true and good, is a fruit of these communities. My "curriculum vitae" is no list of accomplishments, degrees, or titles, but this journey among communities radiant with faith, hope, love and joy. Driven by a passionate desire for a deeper communal encounter with Christ, I have been blessed by an extraordinary richness, depth and diversity of ecclesial engagements. What follows, therefore, can serve as my memoir, eulogy and obituary. (LOL!)
Family
The primary, foundational Church is the family. In this I was twice blessed. Raised by a mother and father who who dearly loved each other and shared a deep Catholic faith, we unconsciously inhaled the air of trust, safety, prayer, modest (albeit flawed) holiness, and loyalty to the Church. Later, my wife and I aspired to reenact, however inadequately, this pattern of life.
Parish
The parish is the skeleton of the Catholic Church, the support and source of life for the family. It is steady, stable, reliable, a perpetual institution. It is there to baptize, bury, marry, comfort, heal, educate, confess, communion and confirm us when we need it, regardless of whether we have been faithful. Through absolutely no merit of our own! Free of charge! Home of all the sacraments, it is itself...in Church building, school, rectory, convent, cemetery, associations, religious/priests, liturgical practice...the quintessential Catholic sacramental of the perpetual, relentless, dependable, aggressive love of God. for all of us.
St. John's is my childhood parish and mother Church of the Oranges: my paternal great-grandfather taught there (end of 19th century) and my maternal great-grandfather helped build the school. My nephew assists as priest on Sundays. We renewed our marriage, after 50 years, and received a blessing there. My grandchildren in the pews that day marked the 6th generation to worship there. Not bad for an American family! It was, in my childhood, 1947-65, a thriving parish enlivened by priests, sisters and brothers. Our pastor, Fr. Burke, eccentric, strange, dysfunctional, was never around and earned the nickname "no work Burke" but the parish surged with energy and God's graces descended unencumbered.
I myself have always suffered a dissatisfaction with the parish, craving something stronger. And so my life has been just such a search for intensive community. But I always return to the parish. And it is always waiting for me. I have never entirely given myself to any religious order or movement, but have benefited from such. The parish is like my family: I go off and make new friends, do novel things, explore wider worlds; but my family and parish are always there waiting for me.
For the last 45 years we benefited from St. Paul the Apostle, Jersey City. Over the years, like the broader Church, it has decreased in number and closed its school. But it steadily serves a diversity of ethnicities with a reliable rotation of fine, loyal, endearing priests.
Catholic Schools
I love Catholic schools, realistically, as I see that they are not always academically excellent, often not affordable, not appropriate for all students, and at the upper levels frequently watered-down regarding Catholic Truth. They are safe, thriving, challenging environments that nurture personal growth, learning, discipline, virtue, wisdom and communion with God.
I studied in such for over 20 years: St. John's, Orange, NJ, with Sisters of Charity and Christian brothers; Seton Hall Prep; Maryknoll College Seminary; Woodstock (Jesuit) School of Theology, NYC; Seton Hall University. I have taught in such for around another 20 years including Xavier Prep, NYC; St. Mary's H.S., Jersey City; St. Paul's Elementary School, Jersey City; Immaculate Conception H.S., Lodi, NJ; adjunct at Caldwell College and St. Peter's College; and many years in CCD and Confirmation preparation. I have spent about 40 of my almost 76 years in Catholic schools.
Our seven children have spent almost 140 years in Catholic education. Parish and school...as well as iterations of the renewal communities below...were our reliable partners in passing on the faith.
Institutional
The Church is an institution, in the sense of Yuval Levin: it has structure, form, durability, dependability...across time and generations... as it contains and presents our Treasury of Faith. The Eucharist is an institution; as are the priesthood, sacraments, papacy, canon law, moral principles, customs of worship, social teaching and an entire way of life. Catholicism is a "program" in the sense that schools have academic and athletic "programs."
The institutional is like the skeleton of the human body: it provides the inner, enduring bodily integrity. But the body itself is fluid, organic, fleshly, muscular, spontaneous as it breathes fresh air, grows strong, moves vigorously, develops organs, nervous system, veins, arteries, skin. The bone-institutional structure works with heart, mind, lungs and free will. It is best as minimal in allowing freedom of the person, communities and the Holy Spirit. It co-inheres with the theological, active, physical, contemplative, decisional, and aspirational in a living, breathing, moving, suffering, aspiring body.
All of the communities below have an interior skeleton or institution, however informal and latent, and are organically or skeletally connected to the broader Church, the Body and Bride of Christ, our Mother on earth.
Maryknoll College Seminary 1965-9
Aspiring to serve the poor, internationally, as a Catholic missionary priest, I spent the tumultuous, momentous late 1960s, far from sex-drugs-rock-n-roll, semi-cloistered in a supportive, stimulating, wholesome, all-male seminary. These years provided:
- Strong, enduring friendships with a self-chosen group of men who shared our faith (at least at that time), a desire to serve the poor, and a degree of confidence, intelligence, and ambition for adventure.
- A stable, semi-monastic routine of study, prayer, work, recreation, healthy diet, and sound sleep.
- Immense stimulation, from the events in Church and world, to read and study, to absorb all the change.
- Mentoring by a layman librarian, Pat Williams, who befriended me and encouraged me to study. We were taught by Maryknoll priests, bright men who had been sent to graduate studies because of their intelligence, but whose vocational ambition was the missions, not college teaching. They were interesting men, of moral integrity and quiet faith. Good examples. But for the most part, we young adults were viewed as novice interns and did not get close to them in mentoring or friendship.
- Junior year I threw myself into philosophy, especially Medieval and 19th Century philosophy taught by the insightful Fr. Tom McGinn M.M. He convinced me that 20th century thought was largely a series of footnotes on the giants of the previous century: Hegel, Marx, Schleiermacher, Kierkegaard, Darwin, and Nietzsche. These contrasted sharply with their contemporary John Newman and even more with the 13th Century of St. Thomas Aquinas that continued in our time with Maritain, Gilson, Pieper and others. Intellectually I saw a clear choice: the nihilism of the "Masters of Suspicion" or the radiant Splendor, the marriage of faith and reason, in the Great Catholic Tradition. The decision was easy!
- After the summer of 1968 at his Cuernavaca think tank and language school, I was captivated by the brilliant Ivan Illich who combined, strangely, a deep, if eccentric, mystical, traditional Catholicism with an iconoclastic critique of modernity in its ontological, technological, bureaucratic core. His was a utopian, metaphysical vision that did not serve me well practically as it intensified my intellectual, idealistic tendencies. But he combined cultural criticism with a hard core Catholicism that inspired me. In this I was alone; none of my classmates share this with me. In the long run he remained a subtle influence that helped me navigate the toxicity of our culture and crave a deeper Catholicism.
- In contrast to the exhilaration of my intellect, my prayer life was mundane, routine, largely a continuation of my childhood. Our steady life of communal prayer was, I am sure, salutary; but uneventful, low key, tending to monotony. I recall no inspiration, enthusiasm, or passion. That was to come in the 1970s.
1970s
After the roaring, flaming 1960s, the 1970s were across society a dismal, decadent era: Roe v. Wade, Watergate, militant feminism and gay liberation, stagflation, rising divorce rate, crisis of the family and fatherhood, gas lines, Iran's defiance of Jimmy Carter, a seemingly endless Cold War, pervasive nihilism and, overnight, a culture of contraception and sterile, non-spousal sexuality. Even worse for the Church: sharp decline in Church attendance, exodus of priests and religious, clerical sex abuse (not known at the time), widespread disinterest in religion, pervasive confusion in Catholic catechesis and morals, a despondent Pope Paul VI widely despised for his courageous Humanae Vitae, intensified polarization between progressive and liberal wings within the Church. A bad time!
My personal life was the extreme opposite. I fell in love, got married, and we started a family. Carefree, unburdened by career ambitions, and supported by my vivacious, magnanimous, long-suffering wife, I followed my interests: theology, catechesis of youth, friendship with the poor, and the shared life of worship. In 1977, with two of our seven children already on the scene, a mysterious hidden hand wisely guided me into United Parcel Service which provided well for our family for the next 25 years. Throughout this decade, a series of providential, serendipitous events drew us more deeply into our faith.
My Jesuit Mentors
As I courted my wife, I studied mystical Catholic theology with the wise, saintly Fr. Joe Whelan S.J. at Woodstock Theology, just moved to NYC next to Union Theological and Columbia University. I learned from him and the great Catholic mystics that to love Christ is to love his bride, the Church. He introduced me to the theology of prayer. We read "Theology and Sanctity," the classic essay by Balthasar which showed the theology of the fathers/doctors as rooted in prayer and worship rather than a pure academic exercise. This deepened, intensified, clarified my Catholicism and love for theology.
Additionally, I studied fundamental theology with the great Avery Dulles S.J. whose broad, deep, comprehensive understanding of Catholic theology gave me a rock solid foundation for further study.
I taught religion, part-time, at the Jesuit's Xavier H.S. where my boss, Fr. Neil Dougherty S.J. became a friend and spiritual director. Later, another scholarly, saintly Jesuit, Fr. John Wrynn S.J. would guide my spiritual life for many years. It is curious: ending high school I wanted to be a Jesuit or a Maryknoller; I chose the later to serve the poor internationally; but in the long run it was particular Jesuits that impacted my faith life. I pray to these four (Whelan, Dullles, Dougherty, Wrynn) very day.
During this short but eventful period I taught English-as-a-Second-Language in the South Bronx (very tough area at the time) with the Puerto Rican Community Development program and thus maintained contact with the poor. I enjoyed disparate friendships with endearing eccentrics: Gilbert Davidowicz, my roommate, a charming, neurotic, scholarly, observant, Orthodox Jew; George Lissandrello, my college roommate, now renovating antique furniture an ensconced in the gay community of the East Village; and Tony Petroski, a boss at PRCDP, a pure, authentic, wee-smoking, guitar playing hippie with whom I lived for a time; and some Jesuit seminarians who took me in like a brother. I took courses as well at Union Theological and Columbia.
Union Theological and My Ecumenical History
The ecumenical dimension of my faith has taken four dimension.
Union Theological Liberalism While studying at Woodstock, I took courses, randomly as an non-matriculated, "mendicant" theological student. I chose the very best at this, among the best of Protestant liberal seminaries. These were brilliant scholars, of great moral integrity, and colorful, interesting personalities. Their fields ranged from scripture through history, ethics, liturgy, psychology, and systematics. Delightful, fascinating and inspiring...each one! But something was lacking. The overall Catholic context. Each was a striking individual, operating creatively on their own. But they did not fit together into a greater theological whole. There were Presbyterians, Anglicans and other; political radicals; high Church liturgists; mystics; endearing eccentrics. In fact, the school did harbor an underlying ideological/theological vision: Marxist/Freudian, liberational progressivism that has become stronger with time. The scholars I chose did not fit into this model; each was an individual, a lonely outlier. So Protestant! With the Jesuits, and even more profoundly later at the John Paul II Institute for Marriage and the Family, I reveled in that deeper, broader Catholic context. My exposure to Union Theological provoked a reaction by inflaming my Catholic instincts.
Evangelical, Charismatic Catholic. A few years later, within Catholic charismatic renewal, I had a far deeper encounter, this time with Pentecostal/Evangelical rather than liberal Protestantism. As mainstream American Catholicism, especially in academia, became progressive following the Council, a remarkable development occurred: in a contrary direction, the Charismatic Renewal incorporated the strongest countercultural, Pentecostal/Evangelical ingredients including clear proclamation of Jesus as personal Lord and Savior, baptism in the Holy Spirit, classic sexual/family/gender ethics, spiritual warfare, authority and obedience, devotion to Scripture, healings, and a shameless fervor in worship. The genius of this renewal movement was that for me and many, but not all participants, these elements, so new and strange, served to deepen and intensify our Catholic faith.
Culture War. As we moved through the 70s and 80s, the Culture War (around incompetent human life, gender, technology, sex, religious liberty) found us conservative Catholics increasingly allied with Evangelicals against progressives. This social/cultural ecumenism and the charismatic engagement mutually reinforced each other. This significant coalition found theological expression in the "Catholic and Evangelical Dialogue" of First Things, a journal and community of faith and thought I have followed over many years.
Acts of Mercy and Justice. In a quite different direction, our friendship with the poor, especially many years later with Magnificat Home, brought us into partnership with others, often liberals (our antagonists in the Culture War),,,across religious, ethnic, class lines... in care for those suffering and marginalized. This unity in charity is the purest form of union; without diminishing the intellectual engagement at Union, the communion in worship with Charismatics/Evangelicals, and the camaraderie in battle in the Culture War.
Teaching Religion at St. Mary's H.S. Jersey City 1972-6
The principal at this tough, city school was happy to get me as she had no real religion program: the guidance teacher did some kind of group dynamic, the English teacher did themes in literature, and so forth. This exemplified the catechetical confusion of the time. From my study with the Jesuits, I was clear and passionate in developing a curriculum. Teaching religion at that time and place was quite a challenge: suspicion of authority and tradition, black consciousness, city kids of all ethnicities, disinterest and confusion about the faith. I had good partners, Sisters of Charity and laymen, (see prior blog about my mentor Sr. Maria Martha Joyce). I threw myself into the work. The dissonance between my ideals and performance, including softness as a disciplinarian, caused anxiety. I developed alopecia areata, loss of hair in patches on scalp, due to stress, and sought help for a time with counseling. Like most of my jobs, it was stressful. But invigorating, challenging, meaningful an brightened by friendship with other teachers.
Parish Liason for St. Al's Parish in Duncan Housing Project
During these same years (1972-7) St. Al's employed me part-time to be in contact with the Hispanic community in the local housing project. I knocked on doors and inquired about religious needs for baptism, marriage, communion and so forth. They sent my wife and I to Ponce, Puerto Rico, to improve our Spanish. Coincidentally, my new bride worked Head Start at that same location. Summers I taught in the Bible Summer Camp run by the remarkable Sister Virginia Kean. (Again, see prior blog essay on my mentors.) At one point we started a small prayer group especially for a young man who got caught up in the murder of a policeman. This was a delightful, fascinating experience!
Charismatic Renewal
Just 50 years ago, Spring of 1973, married two years but without children, we both had a life-changing encounter: the Cursillo. I met, intimately and clearly, in a new way, the divine-human person of Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior. Mary Lynn was similarly touched and healed. We threw away our contraceptives; opened ourselves to life; and within a few months conceived our first child. The very night after her Cursillo, we attended the first prayer meeting hosted by the People of Hope at Christ the King, an Afro-American parish not far from our home. That event opened for us a new world.
Prior to that night, my faith had been in part a moral burden, an obligation of gratitude, to serve the suffering. I had received so much that it was only right that I help others. I accepted the adage, so prevalent in the 60s, "If you are not part of the solution, you are part of the problem." In fact, however, I had really done little or nothing to overthrow injustice; I lacked competence as a social justice activist; and I suffered a persistent, low-grade liberal guilt as "part of the problem." My Christianity was in part a moralism, a duty to overthrow the system, a burden on my shoulders, a sense of moral inadequacy.
That night changed my life. I heard them say: "Good news! You don't have to do a single thing. Sit back and relax. Listen. Pray and sing along as you want. God is going to do something for you. He has a plan to fill you with his Holy Spirit. You have no duty or obligation. You are free to sit back, relax, take it all in, and respond as you wish." This was not just good news, it was tremendous news. I did not have to be myself a moral crusader, a messianic figure. I could just be myself: a poor sinner in need of God's mercy and love. That inner, striving, stressing super-ego of burden and accusation was cast out, definitively. I relaxed, took in God's Word, and began to surrender to the Holy Spirit. This was a new life: no longer condemned by this external Accuser, I became more relaxed, trusting, serene, hopeful, receptive of and responsive to the many graces coming down on us from heaven.
We joined with a motley, endearing group of city folk. We loved every minute of it. And we, including our new arrivals, were dearly loved by them. We were led in prayer and life in the Spirit by a remarkable group of holy, wise women. (Again, see prior blog on Sister Patricia Brennan, another mentor.) Our Catholic faith was deepened and intensified. It was a "Camelot" period for about four years. Two of our children were baptized there. The prayer group disbanded. We joined the local parish as our daughter was now ready for school. We no longer participated regularly in charismatic prayer. Our marriage and shared family life of prayer have benefited. I have identified, ever since, as a Charismatic Catholic.
To summarize, the early-mid 70s were a time of momentous spiritual growth for us: marriage, children, theological study, mentoring by holy Jesuits, work with the poor, catechesis of the young, and especially surrender to an intense Evangelical-Charismatic Catholicism. This abundance of blessings was to guide us through the next 50 years.
1980-90s
The next decades were less eventful, more routine as we tried to live in accord with the graces we had received so abundantly. We lived a normal parish life; our children attended good Catholic schools; I taught CCD and Confirmation preparation. We enjoyed our extended families as our children adored their many cousins. In addition to our partnership with parish, school, family and friends, we drew upon our charismatic background to engage our adolescent children in summer experiences of more intensive Catholic life: World Youth Days, service trips overseas, Charismatic Family Conference, Magdalen College Camps, NET retreats, and others. We are intensely grateful that our children and their families continue to practice their faith, in a variety of styles, and I attribute this to their engagement over the years in a rich network of "colonies from heaven."
Mary Lynn created, in a tough neighborhood and modest house, a rich home for our children and their neighborhood friends: large yard, lots of freedom and fun, safety as she was always there looking out the kitchen window, artistic-decorative touch of Beauty on a slim budget, healthy and nutritional meals. Not perfect, but overall a place of joy, stimulation and faith. It was a "Camelot" period. 40 Lembeck Avenue was, for almost half a century, a little "colony from heaven" because of her. She was, in my view, a superb mother, surpassed by none (although I know others in her league.)
She was equally the best wife of our generation. She demanded nothing of me. Happy that we were financially secure, in a modest fashion given our large family, she supported my UPS career which often required long and difficult (night) hours. With help from our downstairs friend, Aunt Betty, she entirely managed our home.
Generously, she allowed me freedom to pursue all my interests: graduate courses at Rutgers MBA program, masters degree at Seton Hall University, and doctoral program at Union Theological/Teacher's College. I catechized in the parish; coached tee ball little league; worked part-time as substitute in special education; taught as adjunct at St. Peter's and Caldwell College. St. Peter's was my personal "country club" where I would work out in the gym, visit the chapel, and spend hours reading theology in the library. I was "out and about" freely, connecting with many people and groups.
I was a busy and a somewhat absent father. My sons and son-in-laws are all far more attentive and engaged than I was. My compensating factor was that I took such immense delight in our children. Fatherhood for me was never a chore, an effort, or a burden. It came to me naturally, effortlessly, like a hobby one loves, partly because Mary Lynn did all the heavy lifting. I have struggled and sometimes fallen short as a teacher, husband, supervisor, director. But my children for me are stress-free; surpassingly and inexpressibly delightful. When I left the seminary at the age of 22 I asked my mother if she was disappointed that I would not be a priest. She responded: "Not really Matthew. To tell you the truth, I always felt that you had to be a father." I may have been the happiest, most carefree father in the world. And later became even happier as a granfather!
John Paul II and Communio Theology
1978, the papacy of John Paul II, was a momentous event for the world, for salvation history, and for my own personal life. For me he was Moses leading us through the waters, El Cid charging across the kingdoms of Spain, Lawrence of Arabia surprising the enemy out of the desert. He is my hero, my captain, my role model. With him the Church left the age of indecision, confusion, despondency. We entered a land promised (by the Council): clarity, courage, hope, virility, authority, vigor. His catechesis on the human body, gender and sexuality was the decisive theological event of the 20th century. He himself embodied and taught so much more on the dignity of the person, human work, Mercy, morality, ecumenism, and the entirety of Catholic life.
In the journal Communio I found to my delight that he was not a solitary genius (like Ivan Illich or the scholars at Union Theological), but part of a greater whole, a new but traditional Catholic school of thought, a felicitous marriage of the best of the past and of the present, Resourcement or Communio theology. I already knew Balthasar, Ratzinger, DeLubac and others. But now the all-star team was complete. For the following decades, up to today, mostly reading quietly on my own, I have participated in this profound school of theology. This tradition continues: my son earned his PhD and my daughter teaches the psychology course at the John Paul Institute in D.C. Recently I enjoyed the pleasure of attending the funeral of David L. Schindler, the Godfather of this school, and relishing his memory. This school is a powerful "colony from heaven!"
2000 - 2023
At the turn of the millennium, with my children moving into adulthood, I detected a "middle age crisis" in an aggravation of concupiscence and need for stronger spiritual medicine. Providentially help came from two "colonies from heaven." These were distinct but similar in their intensity, reckless honesty, and ferocity in confronting sin and compulsivity.
Neocatechumenal Way
My best friend, my little-big brother John Rapinich was a fervent participant in the first "Neocat" community in the USA at St. Columba's, NYC. He talked about it relentlessly. I became spiritually jealous of the obvious zeal and rigor of this strange new itinerary of faith. When my son faced some difficulties I brought him to their catechesis. I thought it would help him; it helped me; I joined a community. I knew about and admired the lay renewal movements, but this one was different: this was Sparta-like combativeness; the navy seals of the Church; what the Jesuits used to be. This was serious about life and death, about sin and salvation, about Christ and Lucifer. Kiko had created a refreshing, innovative presentation of the Gospel as he retrieved essential elements of tradition. Above all it was a breathtaking honesty about our sins and fear of death. The antidote: a long, patient, and difficult journey of faith within an intensive, small community of prayer, reception of the Word, fellowship, and conversion into the freedom of the Kingdom. Here was the most virile, militant of all the colonies from heaven.
After a few years, I realized it wasn't working. My wife was not involved. It was dissonant with my life as its demands detracted from prior commitments to family, work and parish. Reluctantly, I withdrew. A few years later my brother-in-law was living with us and facing difficulties. Again I brought him to a community, in West New York, NJ. We both engaged. With passage of time it again seemed not to fit my life or his. Again, I withdrew.
I benefited greatly from the time spent with them. It gave a rigor and vigor, an intensity to my faith. Currently my second son with his family are walking this "Way." I am very supportive of them. I follow their progress, vicariously, with interest. I consider myself a friend and companion, if from a distance.
12 Steps
At around that time a priest in spiritual direction gave me a book about the 12 steps. I read it and a lightbulb lit up in my head: I am not alone; I am like so many others, caught in patterns of compulsivity rooted in unacknowledged of isolation, inadequacy and shame. I attended a meeting and felt like I was finally home: a safe place where secrets are shared, shame is banished, and together we pursue recovery, freedom, and sobriety, mind and flesh.
I attended a variety of meetings: Alcoholics Anonymous, AlAnon, Emotions Anonymous, Suicide Survivors Support Group and others. Additionally I attended the Recovery meetings of Dr. Lowe which address symptoms of anxiety and nervousness. Not to mention, over the years, much time in prayer-and-support groups with Catholic men.
The 12-step program was, for me, an intensification of Catholic confession and penance: acknowledgment of powerless, surrender to Higher Power, fearless moral inventory, making of amends, and sharing of the program with others. Along with the Neocatechumenate, this program was the stronger treatment for sin that I needed at that very moment to enter deeper into joy/serenity/freedom.
Our Lady's Missionaries of the Eucharist
A few years later, with our nest empty and a little time available, we were ready for another colony from heaven: OLME. Led by the saintly, wise and inspiring Sister Joan Noreen, this program gathered together into a rule of life elements of classic Catholicism: daily Eucharist, rosary, Lectio Divina, Daily Office of the Church including morning and evening prayer, fasting, devotion to the saints, monthly meetings and simplicity of life. Unlike Charismatic Renewal and the Neocatechumenate, there was nothing creative here; but a simple, clear, prudent gestalt of Catholic practices. Sister Joan's talks were deeply inspiring. She had an uncanny knack for recruiting gifted priests like scripture scholar Fr. Francis Martin and the Franciscan hermit Fr. Pio. Praying of the Daily Office (however irregularly) as a couple became a particular blessing. The serenity, simplicity and clarity of this program is a perfect fit for us as we age.
Immaculate Conception
A few years into the new century, our children now out on their own, I wanted to do something special for the poor. The plight of those in boarding homes in our area especially struck me and I ambitioned to work in or open one. In 2003, age 55 with 25 years of service in UPS, my wife now working as a nurse, my children well into adolescence and adulthood, I took early retirement and ventured to seek some new, unknown work. I took some sabbatical time, went on pilgrimage to Guadalupe, did the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius in daily life with Fr. Wrynn, built a deck in my backyard, prayed for guidance from the Holy Spirit, and tried to find work in a boarding home. The last did not work.
After a time, I took a job, again teaching religion, with the Felician Sisters at Immaculate Conception H.S., Lodi. My time there was happy and serene: by now I was a happy grandfather; the girls seemed to sense that and received me with filial affection and respect. The Felicians were devout, traditional, full of life and great partners in our shared work with the girls. Six years passed quickly, happily there on a serene colony from heaven.
In taking this position I did not entirely abandon my boarding home dream. I told God directly: "I want to do something for the 'in between people' but it is too much for me. If you want it you have to bring together a team and I will happily do my part."
Magnificat Home
August of 2006, age 59 , I am happily walking the Camino of Santiago across Spain, by myself, praying and visiting Churches along the way. I had just been relieved of a cancer in my colon; our children mostly adults; secure financially; and content with my teaching task. Every day I asked: "Lord, do you have some task for me?" Immediately I thought of the boarding home people. Immediately I reminded the Lord: "It is too much for me. You have to bring a team together. I will do my part." One day my mind ruminated about all the people, family and friends, who shared my concern for the boarding home people. So many with whom I had conversed. A light bulb lit up in my mind: "Holy Smoke! We have right within our own rather broad family and circle of friends tons of concern, energy and money!" The Holy Spirit was showing me that that team I demanded was already in place. On my return we convened a meeting of the more interested. My mother learned about it and asked the cost. I estimated (accurately) about $100,000. She promised to write a check for $50,000 whenever needed.
We opened in September 2009. It has been a joyful, satisfying and sometimes challenging task. Our residents, all low-income, many special-needs women, are a delight. We have a generous, faithful network of support. We have benefited over the years (going now on 14) from superb workers and volunteers. Much more than a mere house or residence, it is a "home." Our women elicit tons of love and they return it gratefully. It has been, truly, a "colony from heaven."
Moving Forward
Over the last half century, I have benefited (but never fully joined) from seven ecclesial communities: Fr. Whelan and my Jesuit mentors, Charismatic Renewal, Communio school of theology, the Neocatechumenal Way, 12 step fellowship, OLME, Magnificat Home. Add to this a list of Catholic schools. Add to this engagement with works of mercy. Add to this friendship with a range of orders and movements: Maryknoll, the Jesuits, Franciscan Friars of the Renewal; Christian Brothers; Sisters of Charity, Dominicans, and Felicians; Communion and Liberation; the Catholic Worker; L'Arche; Mount Savior Monastery; Bethany Hermitage; National Evangelization Teams; Regnum Chrisit; Cursillo; Marriage Encounter; Renew.
I look back with immense gratitude and surging joy. But Jesus did tell us "remember Lot's wife!" She turned back to look at Sodom as it burned and was changed into salt. The monk-now-bishop Erik Varden does a magisterial exegesis of this event in a chapter in The Shattering of Loneliness, on Christian Remembrance. In addition to toxic curiosity and craving for the evils of the place, there may have been something more positive in her turning around: she may have recalled the good...affection, trust, kindness, loyalty...among family and friends. Surely these people were not perfectly evil. She may have appreciated and longed nostalgically for what was good there but was about to be destroyed forever.
And so Lot's wife alerts us to the danger of a sentimental nostalgia that longs sadly for a lost past: we cannot return to the Church of the 50s, to our college years, to the honeymoon years, to the honeymoon with my new bride, to the glory days of Charismatic Renewal. But all that was good and true there remains in Eternity and in remembrance. Such memory gives Joy to our present and boundless Hope for our future.
At this moment, age 75, we remain, we abide, in our family, including extended, network of friends, a fine parish, OLME, Magnificat Home, and more remotely other communities. We remain, we abide in The Church. We are very well connected within this colonial network. We look forward, not backward, to continue our itinerary, through the colonies of heaven, to our final destiny, the Kingdom of Heaven in its full splendor.
No comments:
Post a Comment