Post-College: 6 Years

Today marks the 6th anniversary of the event that inspired the launch of this blog, my graduation from Valparaiso University.

Like in 2013, May 19 this year falls on a Sunday, and the alignment of the days of the week in both years helps bring me more in tune with that momentous day in my life.

And not only was that day, but all the memorable experiences leading up to it, especially in the first few months of 2013, including my trips to Austin and St. Augustine, and then those days leading immediately up to graduation, with lots of celebration and pageantry, like being inducted into the Spanish honor society Sigma Delta Pi, and the prestigious scholastic honorary society Phi Beta Kappa.  I also ate lots of good food at many meals, particularly with various groups, like the meteorology majors and InterVarsity Christian Fellowship.

Being in tune with those days upon the occasion of this anniversary gives me much to reflect on, especially as I consider the continued connection and impact of my ValpU days, even 6 years later.

I have close relationships that have persisted through all that time.  I regularly get together over the phone with some of my closest friends, and we're able to keep up with what's going on in our lives, thanks to Roy, who is always eager to keep together, a sign of the deep friendship we've shared in our group.

I've also had reason to be back in Valparaiso thanks to my continuing friendship with the Ruggabers, which hasn't let up in the 6 years.  I was very blessed to be at their Golden Wedding Anniversary celebration last summer together with their family and close friends.

And going to World Youth Day with a group from the Diocese of Gary helped me feel a sense of connectedness with ValpU:  One person in the group was someone I knew during my freshman year, and there were a few people in the group who attend St. Teresa's, including a current ValpU student.  It was especially nice getting to know her because all the people I knew as students during my time there have since graduated, and it's good to connect with current students whenever I can.

My time at ValpU was extraordinary for many reasons.  And in the years since, I keep having more extraordinary experiences that build on top of one another.  One experience tops another, and they keep coming, especially as I think about my faith life.

I feel that my time at ValpU helped open me up to be poised for great experiences to come, especially as I glory in how God continues working marvels in my life, as I reflect on the great resurgence of faith I experienced during my time at ValpU.  Our faith teaches us to be always open to how God is at work.  Even if we don't fully understand His ways, we can live in breathless wonder that something amazing is bound to happen when we open ourselves up to Him.

I came back from World Youth Day regarding it as the best experience yet of my life, and I emphasize "yet" because I'm sure God will do something even more amazing, and there's no way I can really even fully conceptualize what that might be.  It was really something to reflect on that when I went on a trip over an extended weekend this past March to visit St. Augustine.  It's incredible to think how that place, hundreds of miles to the west of Chicagoland, added so profoundly to my ValpU experience as a whole.  (It's also notable that while there back in March, I visited with a ValpU friend who works there as a TV meteorologist.)

Usually, we associate a sense of wonder with the typical child, who constantly asks questions as while wondering about everything.  Yet even at my age, I still find myself with a sense of wonder, and I find myself easily stimulated to learn more about something, as happened all throughout this weekend while visiting museums in Washington, D.C.  Certainly, having spent time studying meteorology has allowed me to continue a sense of wonder about the weather, enhanced by a greater understanding of what happens in the atmosphere above us.

But I get easily fascinated and started wondering about a variety of subjects, which I feel makes the library and information science field a good fit for me, because it was going to the Maze Library that kickstarted my penchant for learning about various subjects.

Aligning with the same principles of my work as a librarian, it has also been such a good fit to teach Religious Education.  Although I didn't go into it with much professional teacher training, I have become so good at it, and I revel so greatly in the opportunity to teach and hand on the faith, coming back year after year.

Indeed, I was so greatly inspired in faith during my college years, especially in the time I spent at St. Teresa's.  Father Kevin McCarthy certainly had a profound influence on my life, and many others.  One thing he taught us at St. Teresa's is how to Party Hard with Jesus Christ, a routine that is a rub-off of his days as a cheerleading coach.

That "party" routine speaks to the sense of how I came to embrace faith as something to celebrate, and it has driven me to do my part to inspire my students in Religious Education class.  I teach them how to Party Hard with Jesus Christ.  But beyond just getting them excited in class, I hope that in my work of handing on the faith to them, they will embrace it and, most of all, live it out.

I think back to how the remarks made at the Baccalaureate Service and the Graduation Ceremony on Sunday, May 19, 2013, had a common theme of inspiring us to go forth with what we gained from our time at ValpU to do good in the world.

On this 6-year anniversary, I have much to celebrate as I reflect on the opportunities that have come my way, greater than the one before, and how I've been able to accomplish so much, inspired by my experiences at ValpU to pass it on in service to others.

 Above and below are pictures of me speaking to my students during my final Tuesday RE class of the 2018-2019 year.  Being a catechist teaching RE class has been a significant part of the continuing legacy and impact of my ValpU experience.  Photos are courtesy of Laurie Berggren.

Here are links to read the blog posts on my graduation, and my reflections for One Year, Two Years, Three Years, Four Years, and Five Years.

A Golden Sesquicentennial

As a big-time train enthusiast, I am particularly excited about today's occasion marking the 150th Anniversary of the Golden Spike ceremony on May 10, 1869, and the official completion of the first United States transcontinental railroad.

It was quite an engineering feat to lay railroad tracks through the vast wilderness areas of the western United States, and in the case of the Central Pacific Railroad being built east, building over and through mountains.  Those hardy workers, many of them immigrants, deserve much credit for their part in this monumental achievement.

I think it's good an occasion like this, in our very interconnected modern world, to think back to life in 1869 when transportation, especially over long distances, was not as feasible, and thus, people couldn't experience that connection as easily.

With this railroad complete, there would be an immense transformation in US society, as people and goods could more easily move across the country from coast to coast in much less time than before, bringing the country together more closely, which had already been alluded to by the construction of a transcontinental telegraph system, helping expedite communications across the country.

I tuned in to live coverage of the Golden Spike ceremony reenactment on KSL's website, a ceremony that was held at the Golden Spike National Historical Park in northern Utah.  I watched the coverage for about 15 minutes, when the reenactment was happening.  There were multiple different ceremonial spikes that were driven in to the rail ties that joined the tracks of the Union Pacific and Central Pacific Railroads.  Different people made different presentations of the significance of their spikes, which were of different metals like gold and silver.

When the final spike was driven in, it triggered a communication signal sent via the telegraph that would cause several things to happen hundreds of miles away, like a giant ball to drop in the US Capitol in Washington, D.C., and the Liberty Bell to start ringing.

As I watched the coverage, I was amazed to see these different, far-flung parts of the country coverging together in one historic ceremony.  The United States would be brought together in a whole new way, and we could become more connected and engage with one another more closely.  Certainly my experiences in traveling across the United States, especially onboard an Amtrak train, is something that evokes breathless wonder in me as I behold the vast variety of people and places in the Unites States, and the amazing realization that all of it is part of one great nation.

As noted by one of the commentators present on the live coverage, it was a simple tap by a tool driving down the spike that brought together a nation--kind of like a small step by a person 100 years later would mark a giant leap for humankind in reaching the moon.

One other aspect of the reenactment that struck me was a prayer offered by the Reverend Dr. John Todd, who traveled all the way to Utah from Pittsfield, MA.  He praises God for granting to humankind the capacity to make attain great achievements, and petitions God that the railroad may continue to serve as a reminder of our ability to do good works and that peace and strength may continue to prevail throughout the United States.

It is a wonder that God gives us humans the ability to achieve greatly.  In a fallen world, though, these achievements have been used for malevolent purposes.  Yet by the power of God's salvific work that redeems the world, we can turn our sights on using our capacity to innovate and invent to work wonders for our world, and serve our fellow people.  We can join together more closely in using our wondrous feats to make a better world.  In light of the Easter Season, we can rejoice in the new achievements we attain through the innovation of new ideas that make the amazing happen.

So in the spirit of commemorating 150 years since the Golden Spike completed the first US transcontinental railroad, let us rejoice at what we have attained that has enhanced our world, and what we can continue to do, through the gifts God has given us, to continue achieving a better world.

And let us recall the words on the Golden Spike that was nailed in: "May God continue the unity of our Country as this Railroad unites the two great Oceans of the world."

It took much strenuous effort to complete the first transcontinental railroad, and much of America's character was reflected in the effort that resulted in such an incredible achievement for its time, considering the diverse workforce of the project, and how all those workers labored with the determination that is so interwoven into American character.  What they did 150 years ago knit together more tightly the far-flung reaches of the United States, and made way for greater economic prosperity as people could travel more quickly than ever before.

In that spirit, may God continue to prosper the United States from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific Ocean as we strive toward great unity as a people, just as the first transcontinental railroad united us in a whole new way a century and a half ago.

Lifelong Learning: 3 Years

I mark 3 years since graduating with my MLIS degree on May 8, 2016.

What have I been learning since then, especially in this past year?

Regarding my career, I have had the chance to attend workshops with an organization called LACONI, which offers professional development for librarians.  I've gained tools to better engage with my work, especially related to technology and intricacies of cataloging.

Certainly going to school gave me a good base of knowledge, but ultimately, school finds its value in its equipping me with the tools I need to continue learning, since there's so much more out there--in other words, school is for learning information and especially learning how to learn.

That's something I try to incorporate into my RE classes, helping my students better understand the practices of the Church so they can continue growing in faith, even beyond our year together in class.

Just like at work, the learning I do beyond my time in school is about putting what I've gained into practice for good purposes.  At work, I use my skills to make materials accessible to patrons.  In RE class, I use my understanding of faith to come alongside those youths in my charge to help them understand faith, even drawing upon what I know to address their questions.

During my time in school, I sometimes yearned to break beyond the artificiality of classroom learning and make it more meaningful in a broader context out in the world.  Finding those opportunities makes the learning of my past become more meaningful by truly coming alive.

There were many opportunities during my recent trip to World Youth Day in Panama where I experienced the learning of my past come alive. 

I've studied my fair share of geography in classes and more so on my own.  Indeed, once I got interested in geography, I yearned to learn more, and went to the library to find books for reading and learning more.  Geography came alive in so many ways as I experienced another country and another culture while in Panama.  I also got to visit a rainforest, which brought me back to studies like our rainforest unit in 4th grade.

Most prominently, I was able to use the Spanish skills I amassed during years of school, stretching all the way back to Ms. Gullo's Kindergarten class at Irving School.  I could put my Spanish communication skills to use in a real-world setting in a predominantly Spanish-speaking country.  I went there with confidence in my ability to communicate sufficiently in Spanish when requesting something, conversing with fellow WYD pilgrims, or even translating for other people in my group.  And I was glad that all my efforts in studying over the years paid off in being able to succeed in communicating and also in making good use of those skills.

It's great to see learning come alive as I experience it, and it draws me to keep on learning as I engage with life as it comes my way.

My First Time at the Table, 20 Years Since

Twenty years ago, on Sunday, May 2, 1999, I approached the Table of the Lord for the first time to partake of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ at my First Holy Communion.

In the weeks leading up to that day, in addition to my regular Catechesis of the Good Shepherd classes, I had gone to special sessions where I learned more about what it would mean to partake of communion.

At two of these sessions, we baked monk bread, which had a browned kind of taste to it.  I much preferred the pretzels that we baked at a session in between the two.

We also spent time creating a clay chalice that we used at our First Communion Mass.

Above is my First Communion chalice, and below is the bottom, with my name and date.

And there was a session when we reflected on Jesus's teaching on the vine and the branches in the Gospel according to St. John chapter 15, and the catechists used a plant with vines to illustrate the discussion of it.  While I can't remember what words I used, I made a profound remark about connectedness that earned me the commendation of the catechists.

Then came May 2.  It's notable that my earliest memories of attending Mass were not inside a church building, but inside the gym of the St. Giles Parish School, where my family attended the St. Giles Family Mass, and where I went for Mass on May 2.

I think there may have been about a dozen of us first communicants in that group that day.  We all wore white gowns.  We processed in to the gym to our seats in front of our families as they admired us delightedly, while musicians up near the altar played on xylophones.  Just before this day, we gathered in the gym to review logistical details, and a woman specifically told us not to wave at our families, but rather use gestures like winking or smiling as we processed in.

The Family Mass community used baked bread for the Body of Christ, rather than the wafers that are used elsewhere.  I hadn't had any idea what the wine would taste like, so when I drank it for the first time on that May 2, I thought it tasted strange.

The celebratory mood continued even after Mass.  All the first communicants gathered in the far side of the gym from the altar to have cake.  My Grandma Vel had a photo of me hanging up in her house for a long time, taken by a professional photographer photographing at the Mass.  This particular photo shows me at the cake table with my hands clasped together in a prayer position, with my elbows on the table.  My Grandma thought that in the photo, I was praying to Jesus, having just partaken of Him.  When she asked me about it, I said that in my pose, I was eagerly awaiting a piece of cake.  She chuckled when she heard that and then said she would think of me in a prayer pose in that photo anyway.

Having no memories of the day of my baptism, my First Communion Mass was the first time I celebrated a special sacramental milestone in my life that I could remember.  The mood at Mass certainly set the tone well for the joyous occasion.  The celebration continued at home, including another cake, which was specially decorated.

Taken together with what I experienced during the formation sessions, I knew something special had just happened to me, which I would come to appreciate even more as time passed.

I embraced faith more around the time I entered middle school, and began enjoying the experience of Mass more than when I was younger.  At a certain point in middle school or high school, I would use the Anima Christi prayer in the time between partaking of communion and the prayer after communion to gain a more profound sense of what communion is.  I was drawn to attend Mass, to experience the richness of the liturgy, which has persisted throughout the centuries and is made new each time we gather.  And there was a specific mood set to the Scripture readings for the Mass, and even the symbols and the liturgical season at hand in which I also found much meaning.

My appreciation for attending Mass grew even deeper when I went to college.  It was the first time in my life I experienced strongly the sense of connectedness in the Eucharist.  While away from home, I was hearing the same readings, and partaking of the same Body and Blood of Christ, just like those back home.  I began to appreciate this sense of connectedness even when I attended Mass at other churches when traveling elsewhere.

And I experienced a sense of connectedness today when I went back to attend St. Giles Family Mass to mark the 20th anniversary of my First Communion.  My memories of the St. Giles Parish School gym are framed by my childlike perceptions, so walking into the gym for the first time in over 15 years felt like I was walking into a child-sized play pen as person of mature adult size, and I had to get my bearings a little bit.

The gym where St. Giles Family Mass is celebrated

It just happened to be the First Communion Mass for three girls in the Family Mass community.  The worship aide mentioned the first communicants wore white to symbolize the baptismal gowns, a symbol of our Christian dignity, which we are called to carry unstained to the judgment seat of Christ, a task we are strengthened to fulfill by the nourishment we receive in the Body and Blood of Christ, which made me think back to the white gown I wore.

I kept an eye out for any one I might recognize, and after Mass, I got talking with a number of people I remember from years back, including some of my catechists.  It is wonderful that the time I spent attending the Family Mass and the connections I made while learning about faith in catechesis classes forged bonds that still persist even after all these years.

As I made my way home, I stopped at Ascension to congratulate the daughter of a woman I taught RE with a few years ago, who just made her first communion.  And I was immediately invited over to their house to join in celebrating her daughter's first communion, which was a lovely way to rejoice in what communion means, for her, and even for me on my anniversary.

Indeed, partaking of the nourishment of Christ connects us to Christ and His Body, the Church.

I experienced that sense of connectedness in a profound new way when attending World Youth Day in Panama City, as I could feel in union with Roman Catholics from all over the world who gathered there to celebrate being one in faith.

During communion at the WYD Closing Mass, we sang a song that I later found out was the theme song for the 1993 World Youth Day gathering in Denver.  The song truly speaks to what I have come to understand about the Eucharist:

I played this song for my students last week Tuesday as part of my farewell words of encouragement during our final time together for RE class.  It was so apt to celebrate the end of another year of RE with my students in such close proximity to to the anniversaries of my baptism, falling on a Sunday in 2019 just as it did in 1991, and my first holy communion, because RE has been a way I can make something of the faith that was kindled by those two sacramental events.

Just as I remain connected to those communities that helped nourish my faith, so I remain connected to all those in any faith community of which I have been a part.  These are communities where, in worship, we experience connection to Christ and the Church, which gives us life, and nourishes us so that we bring His Presence into the world, especially in serving those in need, all to His Glory, doing so in His love, which Father Carl in his homily at Mass today said is the one criteria God has for serving Him.

And we keep coming back to partake of Christ's Body and Blood, so that, just like branches on the True Vine, we can continually be nourished and strengthened for the work He has called us to accomplish as His people.

To the Heart

When I visited St. Augustine Mission last summer, my first time there since going on a service trip there back in 2013, something stirred in my soul.  Indeed, I felt a desire to go back on some kind of regular basis to reconnect with the place that did so much to make my faith life what it is today.

Everything fell in place for me to visit again last month.  And so, on the Saturday morning of March 23, I got into Avila, and made my way westward.  It was kind of like on that Saturday, March 2, 2013, when I was with my group making our way westward, mostly along I-80, through Illinois and Iowa toward Missouri River country into the Siouxland.

This part of the country is often referred to as the Heartland of the United States.

As part of embracing the places of my travels enroute, I made a point to patronize local businesses.  There are many chain restaurants that concentrate around interstate exits, so when I saw a sign for Rip's Chicken, I figured it was a good time to pull off for lunch.

I ended up in Ladd, IL, a small town, as reflected by how the public library is about the size of the workroom at the library where I work.  Apparently, Rip's is a notable place to get some fried chicken in Ladd, and my sandwich was pretty good, even though I didn't' realize it was a restaurant that was actually called Rip's Tavern, which made it challenging for me to find at first, nor did it have the atmosphere I was expecting.

I crossed over the Mississippi River, a prominent geographical feature in the central US.  The river was pretty swollen, overflowing its banks significantly, but not affecting I-80.

Continuing along, I saw signs along I-80 noting the location of plenty of chain restaurants and hotels, but also the interesting, unique sights in towns along the way, like a Bill of Rights Monument in Montezuma, IA, and the Herbert Hoover birth sites in West Branch.

In the far west of Iowa, I left I-80 to head west on the I-680 bypass, and then turned northward onto I-29.  There were signs along the side of I-29 marking it as the approximate path of the Lewis and Clark National Trail.  Notably, March 23 was the day the expedition started heading back east from their camp near the Pacific Ocean.

It was a fairly wide open road as I headed north.  Upon reaching Onawa, I exited, and headed west, and then crossed the Missouri River.  It looked a bit swollen, but again, did not affect my ability to cross over it, unlike areas to the south that were still pretty flooded--in fact, signs along I-80 indicated detours for I-29 south of I-680.  On the other side of the Missouri, I was in Nebraska, and upon reaching US 75 in the heart of the locality of Decatur, I headed north.  Driving on that road really stirred something in my soul as I recalled how significant of a week I had in the hills of eastern Nebraska.

I finally reached the St. Augustine rectory around 8 PM, nearly 10 hours after I left Oak Park.  Even at that hour, because of its location so near the western edge of the Central Time Zone, it was still fairly light out.  Father Mark offered to take me to dinner at a truck stop restaurant called Crystal Cafe.  We had a nice time visiting during the drive and over dinner.  It was also great patronizing a local place, and to take in local fare: I had a hot hamburger sandwich with mashed potatoes and covered in gravy, and on the side, hamburger soup, which was basically ground beef in beef broth--please see the photo below.  (And please note, all photos in this post are mine, unless otherwise noted.)

Both items seemed evocative of Nebraska as cattle country, the state of Omaha Steaks.

The next morning, I went to Walthill to visit the inside of St. Joseph.  I noted was how well refurbished the washrooms were.  One of the projects our group had there was demolition work, removing the wooden walls in the washrooms, which have since been made up with a fine white paint job.

Then it was back to Winnebago for 10 AM Mass at St. Augustine Church.  March 24 in this year 2019 was the 3rd Sunday of Lent, and when I went there 6 years ago, Sunday, March 3, was the 3rd Sunday of Lent, and I heard the same set of readings then as were proclaimed on this day I was there visiting.

In his homily, Father Mark had us reflect on those big questions about who God is, whether He is distant or close, and whether or not we believe that He loves us.  It is these kinds of questions that help us grow in faith.  This reflection helped me think about how my relationship with God grew during that week in 2013, helping me solidify what I believe as I put faith into action, making the ground of St. Augustine holy by serving in the same spirit as St. Katharine Drexel who founded this mission and walked these grounds.

For lunch, I went to South Sioux City to a restaurant called Mi Familia, in company with Lynnette, a friend from my days at ValpU.  We had a great time sharing about things going on in our lives.  It was particularly fascinating to hear about what Lynnette has been up to as a TV meteorologist for a local station.

Following lunch, I took a joy drive into the southeastern tip of South Dakota to the North Sioux City Public Library.  I then turned around and went back into Sioux City, IA, and spent some time visiting the Lewis and Clark Interpretative Center and the Betty Strong Encounter Center.  I was intrigued to see photos from this year's St. Augustine calendar on display in a gallery there.  I also spend time looking at the exhibits, which even explained some of the finer day-to-day details of the expedition.

A model of the expedition's keelboat, made out of Lego pieces

When I inquired about postcards for purchase, the friendly woman at the museum directed me to the boat museum/visitors' center a short walk away.  It was fascinating to look at the exhibits in the boat, once used on the Missouri River, about the river and the boat.

Inside the boat

And I found postcards among the many great offerings of merchandise pertaining to the three states that meet at Sioux City, IA.

After a while, I headed back south to Winnebago to Jesus Our Savior Lutheran Church for an Ecumenical Prayer Service for churches in Eastern Thurston County.  At first, I didn't see the church right away, because it was in a trailer building (please see photo below) nestled among other trailer buildings nearby.

It was amazing that a small space could be used so well for our prayer and then our fellowship, which you can see in the photo below.

Pastor Ricky offered a great message about the cup of God's wrath, which we deserved on account of our sins, that Jesus took on our behalf so that we could one day enter into His presence in the fullness of Life.  We had a wonderful time of prayer and singing, followed by a meal with a good time of fellowship.  I was glad that I had the chance to participate in this prayer service, and join with other Christians in celebrating those principles of faith that we share in common during this season of Lent that leads us to the days of the Triduum at the heart of our one Christian faith.

I left the Lutheran church and drove south to visit Rosalie, to reconnect with the place where I had the extraordinarily profound experience of participating in the sweat lodge ceremony.

Then I went back to St. Augustine to settle in for the night.

I was up shortly before 6 AM the following morning.  While I got myself ready, I tuned in to the morning news program and saw Lynnette give the weather broadcast.

Then, in the night-like darkness, I walked to the Church for 6:30 Mass, for the very special Solemnity of the Annunciation.  I had been thinking a lot about the themes of that story owing to the theme of World Youth Day 2019, another profound faith experience in my life, and it was fitting to attend Mass this day and celebrate this feast while renewing myself in my commitment to following Mary's example of saying "Yes" to God, as I did when I came to St. Augustine in 2013.  (At a place where I had such an incredible experience of faith, it was amazing to take stock of how God keeps providing me yet another amazing experience of faith on top of what I've already had, as the St. Augustine service trip was followed by other great times, including World Youth Day.)

After Mass concluded, Father Mark offered me the chance to join him and the associate pastor Father Mark for breakfast at Crystal Cafe.  It was, again, another great time of visiting while we shared our meal.

Following our meal, we took associate pastor Father Mark to his appointment in Sioux City, IA, and then crossed back into Nebraska, and then back to Winnebago.

I got myself packed and then began my journey back home just before 10 AM, stopping at the local post office to mail postcards.

Heading eastward, it was wonderful soaking in the beauty of the American heartland through those wide open fields.

Upon reaching the Des Moines Metro Area, I decided not to follow I-80, but drive on I-235, which took me into central Des Moines, with a stunning view of the Iowa State Capitol.  Once I had rejoined I-80, I started looking out for a place to eat lunch.

I ended up at a place called Bianchi Boys Pizza and Pasta, in the east suburb of Altoona, another fine local place, where I enjoyed a tasty salad and South of the Border pizza, which was basically like taco filling on a pizza--similar to the pizza I ordered at Harris Pizza in the Quad Cities last summer.

Near the end of my meal, as I conversed with the waitress, I ended up belting out the lyrics of the "Ioway" song from State Fair.

From there, I continued my easterly trek soaking in the wide open fields and the signs for the unique local attractions.  Near Walcott, I exited and went to gas up at the BP Station at the World's Largest Truck Stop--please see photo below.

From there, it was a short distance to crossing the Mississippi River and returning to Illinois.  The sun shone brightly on the Illinois fields as it continued its trek westward, while I headed eastward.   I arrived home right around 7 PM.  The odometer, which I had running continously since I left, showed nearly 1159 miles, for my trip there and back, as well as in driving around in the Siouxland.

I certainly count my service week in Winnebago as one of the most significant experiences of my life, because it touched the heart of my life in such profound ways.

That's why it was so special to go back there and reconnect with that week, and feel my heart and soul stirred again.  And throughout my time on this trip, I was able to probe into the heart of the United States and the particulars of various localities that speak to the heart of the people who call them home.  And there were other great opportunities during the trip, too, seeing the sights and other visits I had with people.

In all that I experienced, I came in tune with various aspects of who I am, and I was reminded that who I am is so connected with all that surrounds me.

All my relations.

Father Mark Beran photographed me in the St. Augustine Church following the conclusion of Mass on March 25.

The Fiery Evening

As is the case this year, March 6 was on a Wednesday back in 2013, 6 years ago.  On that day, I was in eastern Nebraska on a service trip.  That evening, our group went to the small rural town of Rosalie to participate in the Sweat Lodge ceremony, one of the most intensely profound experiences of my life.

Lent 2019 starts today with Ash Wednesday, and I regard that a fitting coincidence as I reflect on this experience, doing so with this poem:

O Sweat Lodge,
The Place of Purification,
I entered into you
And there faced the intensity of the heat
As spiritual fire refines and purifies me.
The heat is difficult to bear,
And so I turn to prayer
Remembering the God Who aids me in perseverance.
As each round passes, my confidence builds.
I trust even more than I can make it through.
The heat is a fire that refines me
To endure all difficulties I face in life
And emerge stronger.
And I emerge from the Sweat Lodge
So empowered by the endurance I demonstrated.
I emerge anew, like when I emerged new from the womb.
And so I declare, "All my relations":
I am ever connected with the world around me,
The people with whom I shared this experience,
Just as I remain connected with the Body of Christ,
The Church on Earth and in Heaven.
I learned what it means to be human
From reading philosphers like Mencius and Aristotle,
From reading classics like Jane Austen and Virigina Woolf.
Yet now I embrace a new understanding of humanity,
How we persevere and endure.
Even if it seems that we might die,
We show we are strong,
And we remember that God strengthens us,
And makes us strong.
Indeed, our God brings us through what seems like death,
And in His redemptive power, He brings new Life.
We drove there nervous, we leave excited,
For we have been impacted by so unique an experience.
So I continue in life, remembering
The power this ceremony has brought me.
And the time of 6:30-8:00
On Wednesday, March 6, 2013,
In the town of Rosalie, NE,
Forever remains etched in my mind,
As something that touched me so deeply,
For I encountered a new vision
Of living the life of faith,
In heat and fire.

The Week of Service in Nebraska, in Photos

It's been 6 years since my mission/service trip to St. Augustine, during the first week of my Spring Break in my senior year at Valparaiso University.

And notably, the days I was on that trip, March 2-9, align in this year 2019 exactly with the days of the week on which they fell back in 2013.

This coincidence helps bring me in tune with that experience once again.

As I reflect, I share some photos from that trip.  Some were taken on my camera, and those that aren't I attribute to Mary Emery, who was one of the 4 drivers for our group.

When we crossed the Missouri River from Iowa and arrived in Nebraska at Decatur, we had to stop and pay a toll at a booth, which is no longer there.  While stopped, I couldn't help but notice this sign welcoming us to Nebraska, and felt the urge to photograph it.  What stood out was its use of an Aristotelian phrase, "The Godo Life".  Certainly throughout our time in Nebraska, we would encounter what the Good Life means as we rendered ourselves in service to others in the Name of the Lord.

Aroudn 4:18 PM CST on Saturday, March 2, 2013, we arrived at the St. Augustine Mission.  As we awaited where to park, I photographed the St. Augustine Mission Church.

We're just about to have our first dinner together as a group, on our first evening at St. Augustine Mission, in the mission school's kitchen.  The urge to serve was stoked in me, and led me to set the table for everyone.  Please note that my camera's time feature was set an hour ahead, so we we actually had dinner around 8:15-8:20.

It was a beautiful sunny morning over the hills of eastern Nebraska as we headed from our sleeping quarters in the school gym to walk the short distance to Church to attend Mass.  Below is the interior of the Church.  Above the altar is a crucifix that employs aboriginal American symbolism with the four kinds of people: black, white, red, and yellow.  It was a blessing to be there on March 3, the Feast of Mother St. Katharine Drexel, who founded the St. Augustine Mission.  It was a special celebratory Mass that day, with a buffet meal that followed.

Below is a close-up of the St. Augustine emblematic cross with the four colors of the four different types of people, with dangling feathers.  Aura Lee painted this in a room in the basement of the St. Augustine Church on Friday during our time painting that room.

After the meal, we went on a tour led by Dwight, a staff person at the St. Augustine school.  Across US 75/77 from St. Augustine is a development that has a collection of statues representing various symbols of the Winnebago.

Above is a photo of the Missouri River from near the banks.  Below is a view of the Missouri River from an overlook along US 75, just north of Decatur.

On Monday, March 4, the first day we did service work, I helped rearrange items in the museum in one of the school's outer buildings.  Sarah Black, in our group, took this photo of me looking at a Roman Missal.

I will admit that this photo was staged, but represents something I actually did: I got down on my hands and knees to scrub the floor of the St. Augustine Church.  It was a time when I thrust myself into work, stimulated by a spirit of service.  Lydia, our group's student leader, took this photo of me.

On Tuesday, March 5, we spent time over at St. Joseph Parish in Walthill.  The exterior of the church is above, and the interior is seen in the photo below.

Here I am with Oleta, appearing to the left close to me on the far left, and Lydia, appearing in the green sweatshirt to the right, as we go over the instructions to assemble shelving in the food pantry in the basement of the St. Joseph Rectory.  I attribute this photo to Mary.

 Above is a photo of one completed shelving unit, and below is a close-up of the detail of the pieces fitting together, in accordance with the work we did to adjust the pieces as necessary.

Here I am at St. Joseph, suited up to do work with a saw as we got the space arranged in the food pantry.  I don't remember who took this photo.

After having lunch at the Winnebago Senior Center, we played a game that, to the best of my memory, involved tossing the small beads in the wooden bowl to gain points based on how the beads landed in the bowl.  I appear on the far right.  I attribute this photo to Mary.

Sarah Snake and Tunny, very involved members of the St. Augustine community, joined us for dinner on Tuesday to share the experiences of their lives and their elders.  The stories they shared were heartbreaking as we heard how the aboriginal Americans were mistreated at St. Augustine.  But there was also hope in the stories, hearing about how people there continued to abide in faith.  We posed for a group photo afterwards, taken by a member of the St. Augustine community.  I'm in the green shirt just left of center.  Behind me is Tunny, and to the left of him is Sarah Snake.  After this photo, during our nightly group reflection time, we offered affirmations of each other, tossing around a thing of yarn, which created a web, representing each of us plays an essential part in the group we form together.  And together, we shouted aloud our "Caw, caw; caw, caw" eagle call as we would throughout our week, after Lydia saw an eagle during our tour of the reservations on Sunday.

On Wednesday, we spent time doing service work in Walthill.  Later on in the afternoon, we went to a boxing gym started by Dwight to give the youths something positive to do.  There, we organized clothing donations, as you can see in photo above, which were in the boxes you can see below.  Dwight had made arrangements to get a new climate control system for the gym, and had the old one removed, only to have the other end of the deal fall through.  Whenever we went in the gym, it was usually much colder than it was outside, and so we kept our jackets on while working in there.

This photo shows the scene in the downtown area of Walthill, outside the boxing gym where we had been sorting.

Here's the view of the sunset over the hills as we ride to Rosalie to participate in the weekly Wednesday evening Sweat Lodge ceremony, one of the most profound experiences of my life.  We were all kind of nervous about the ceremony, and the ride was rather quiet--quite a contrast to the ride back in the dark of night, when we were all so talkative about what we saw was an amazing experience.

Above and below is photographic evidence of how much I sweated it out in the Sweat Lodge.  The front has more sweat on it because I pressed my chest and face up against the towel that was on my legs so I could relieve myself from the hot, stuffy, and humid air in the Sweat Lodge hut.

It was meaningful to wear this shirt from my time at Julian Middle School, which contributed significantly to claiming faith as my own during my early teen years, as I was in the midst of putting that faith into action with the immense zeal I summoned forth during my college years.

As I got myself ready for my day on Thursday, I saw this incredibly colorful sunrise from a hallway that looked out toward a glass entrance of the school.

We joined the St. Augustine students who came to the cafeteria in the Church basement for breakfast before school, and this shows what we typically ate each morning.

On Thursday, we went to Macy to drop off clothing donations we had sorted.  While there, we visited the Our Lady of Fatima (Roman) Catholic Worship Center, where noon Mass is celebrated on Sundays.  The building was also constructed to accommodate funeral wakes.  This photo above shows the interior area where the altar is.  To the far right is the ambo.  Many of the furnishings reflect natural themes, like the wood.  Below is a photo of the outside.

Here's a view of the sunset on Thursday evening.  The house in the photo is where the Benedictine sisters live who are on staff at St. Augustine.

On Friday, our last full day at St. Augustine, we painted a room in the St. Augustine Church basement for the use of the youth group.  In this, one of Mary's photos, I'm at work painting.

On Friday evening, we helped serve food at the St. Augustine Fish Fry, which was happening on the Fridays of Lent in the St. Augustine Church basement.  In this, one of Mary's photos, I'm serving a plate as Father Dave, to the left, and Lydia, to the right, look on.

Between the Fish Fry and dinner on Friday, I got this photo of Sister Agnes and me.  She was the first person to greet us upon our arrival on March 2, and was there to see us off when we departed on March 9.  She has since retired from her work in the St. Augustine office and has gone back to live at the motherhouse in Norfolk, NE.  It was a blessing to visit with her and other sisters there in Norfolk when I took a reconnection trip to Nebraska in late July 2018.  Rather than get someone else to take this photo above, which is my preference, I took a selfie, but this was before that term entered into widespread use.

After doing my duty at the fish fry, I went to the school kitchen to cook dinner, in this, one of Mary's photos.  Abby is to the right of me, also helping prepare dinner.  Our group split into two smaller groups and we rotated preparing meals and doing clean-up.  During this Friday dinner, as we prepared vegetable and shrimp stir-fry, I erred in the preparation of the rice, putting the rice in the water before it started boiling.  I realized my mistake, and dumped the rice out, but a handful of grains fell out into the burner area on the stove, which ended up starting a small fire.  It became an incident that we laughed about.

I found myself praying each night before bed near this Crucifix in a school hallway, particularly after one evening in which we talked about the struggles the aboriginal Americans face in their lives on the reservations.  Below is where I slept in the school gym.

Sarah took this photo of me in the van while we drove along I-80 in Illinois.  I would soon depart from the group in southern Chicagoland to make my way back to Oak Park.

It's amazing to see how the journey continues as I keep abiding in faith, with one amazing experience building upon another.  I note this as I reflect on my experience at St. Augustine 6 years ago, while in this present time am still reflecting on my JMJ experience that happened a little more than a month ago, and regard each as the experience of a lifetime that allowed me to engage with my faith in extraordinary ways.

Please note, if you are interested, please contact me for a copy of the original account I wrote about my St. Augustine trip soon after it happened.