A Letter to Secretary Jewell

This is Native American Heritage Month.  It makes me think back to the beginning of March, when I went on a mission/service trip to the St. Augustine Roman Catholic Mission on the Winnebago Reservation in Nebraska.  That trip was on my mind when I came across a news story in June about remarks Sally Jewel, the new Secretary of the Interior, made at the National Congress of American Indians.  She was filled with emotion as she recounted the government's imperfect track record of upholding promises to the Native Americans, and pledged to work more for them during her four years.  I was inspired to hear such words come from a high-level government official.  I decided to write her about my experiences at St. Augustine.  Here is the text of my letter:

Dear Secretary Jewell:

            Back at the end of June, I came across a news article about remarks you made at the National Congress of American Indians in Reno.  I was greatly heartened by the immense amount of support you seek to give to the various tribes in helping improve their current circumstances. 
            As I read this news article, I was taken back to an experience I had recently with Native American culture.  At the beginning of March, during the first week of my Spring Break at Valparaiso University, I went with a group of 12 college students and 4 chaperones from St. Teresa of Avila, the Roman Catholic Student Center at ValpU, on a service/mission trip to St. Augustine Mission in northeastern Nebraska.  It is located in Winnebago, on the reservation of the same name, and serves the people of both the Winnebago and Omaha Reservations.  The mission ties together four different churches in the local area, on both reservations, and there is a parochial school at St. Augustine.  St. Teresa's had formed a sister parish relationship with St. Augustine a couple years before we went on this trip.
           During our week there, we engaged in service work, tending to various projects at St. Augustine, and a nearby parish, St. Joseph, in Walthill.  These projects included cleaning churches, painting a room in the St. Augustine church, sorting clothing donations, reorganizing storage spaces (including a food pantry), and doing demolition work.  We even spent time with the students in the classrooms at St. Augustine school.  We also engaged in cultural immersion activities, getting to know the people there and their experiences.
           We were fortunate enough to be there on the Feast Day of St. Katharine Drexel, the nun who founded this mission back in the early 20^th Century.  (Notably, this is one of a few sites in the United States associated with a Roman Catholic saint.)  There were special elements incorporated into the Mass that Sunday morning to celebrate her and the mission, songs in the native languages, and even a communal buffet meal afterwards.  Later that day, a man who works at the school, Dwight, took us on a tour of both reservations, explaining aspects of the Omaha and Winnebago cultures, as well as the lifestyle of the people there, often fraught with restrictions laid on by the Bureau of Indian Affairs.  The joke is that BIA really stands for “Bossing Indians Around”.  Indeed, the people on the reservations aren’t even allowed to sell and buy land, as they must go through the BIA to handle those transactions for them.  At one point during the week, one person in our group, when he came across a BIA employee, asked him why the BIA even exists.
            We also saw that the people there live a dilapidated lifestyle.  They don’t live in the best homes, and economic opportunities for them are limited.  This is especially the case on the Omaha Reservation, whose leadership has been corrupted by nepotism.  The Winnebago have fared better, as they have invested funds into businesses there.  The public schools there are lacking in quality.  Fortunately, St. Augustine’s school provides an excellent curriculum for its students that helps them excel.  They even provide instruction in the Ho-Chunk language, and I was fortunate enough to sit in on a Ho-Chunk language class.  This is definitely a positive change as the mission seeks to affirm the culture, whereas before, the mission sought to stamp out the culture, even as part of the US government’s efforts to do so, and we heard some stories about the abuses that occurred as a result.  Yet the school only provides the students such an excellent education through 8^th grade.  At that point, the families have the tough decision to make to either send them to the nearby public high school, which doesn’t provide them with as high-quality an education, or to a parochial high school miles away, which is quite an investment.  Even for those youths who excel, they often end up leaving the reservation to engage their high level of education and skills elsewhere, instead of investing it back in their communities, so that there is a brain-drain on the reservation.
            Yet there is hope, especially in the work that the St. Augustine Mission does to support the culture, and to provide a superior education for its students.  There are even people who take the initiative to preserve their own culture, like Dwight, and others we met, like the college student who helps teach the Ho-Chunk language as a teacher's aide.  We as a group represented hope, because we devoted a portion of our Spring Break to go there, taking care of various tasks that needed to be done, and being present to the people there, who were so appreciative of our presence, and willing to share with us on such a deep level.  We were even invited to participate in the Sweat Lodge ceremony, which is one part of our week that stands out so profoundly in my mind.
            I hope that as you make efforts to improve the lives of aboriginal Native Americans that you keep in mind the good works being done by St. Augustine to support the local culture, and even of our group that made the point to go there and experience the culture.  Hopefully more people will make the point to really get to know aboriginal Americans and their rich cultures.
            I thank you for your commitment to these people.  Indeed, it was especially notable when you said, “I can't reverse all of that in a four-year period of time, but I can make important progress,” speaking of the federal government’s imperfect track record of fulfilling promises to the Native Americans.  We can’t do everything, but we can do something.  We can lay a foundation that will lead to greater things for the aboriginal Americans.
          This all makes me think of a monument being built to honor Crazy Horse in South Dakota.  It is literally being carved out of an entire mountain.  When finished, the monument will show Crazy Horse riding a horse.  Right now, only the face is complete, with the part of the mountain where the arm will extend out having been carved away.  The task ahead is daunting, and long from being complete.  But there is a start, upon which a great finished product will emerge.  I hope that this serves as a metaphor to spur us on in the work to make whole again the lives of the aboriginal Americans.  The tide is beginning to turn to support them.  Let us be spurred on in the work ahead of us, persevering to support the rich culture of the First Nations peoples.

Sincerely,

Paul Rubio

Community, Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving Day is definitely one of my favorite holidays.  It combines patriotism with faith, making it a true American Holy Day.

I also enjoy this occasion for the wonderful opportunity to savor one of my favorite foods: an over-cooked turkey.  I am enamored by it and all the other fixings that grace the Thanksgiving table.

But this year was special for one particular reason, going beyond the food on the dinner table.  Earlier in the day, as has become a cherished habit of mine in the past few years, I partook of a meal at another table, that of the Eucharistic feast at the altar at Church.  And for the first time, I served as Eucharistic minister.  There I was, during the communion rite, handing the Body of Christ to the people in the community of faith at Church.  Repeating "The Body of Christ", over and over, to each person who stepped in front of me, became like a prayer of sorts.

Indeed, community was a theme that surfaced during today's celebration at Mass.  God comes to each of us individually, working His marvel of salvation in our lives, and discipling us into the ways of Eternal Life.  We come to express our thanksgiving to Him as a result, doing so as a community.  We join together to pray, hear God's Word, sing, and partake of the One Body of Christ at the meal that comes from the Greek word for "thanksgiving".  We are many, but join together as One in this celebration of the One.  And it is what we experience in this celebration that sends us forth on our common mission, as we live out a life of Thanksgiving before God, who is the reason for our Thanksgiving.  (Even the homilist spoke about how we value the opportunity to be with people on Thanksgiving Day.)

This occasion induces all of us to ponder more deeply what we are thankful for.  And while I certainly can name many things I'm thankful for, the one thing that surfaces to the top for me this Thanksgiving Day, which I'm most thankful for, is the community of faith.  I've come to especially appreciate and embrace all the opportunities I have to spend time with people at Church, and ministries to be involved in, during and outside of Mass.  Indeed, I always have a good feeling when I step out of the house and start walking toward Church, because I know I'm going to a very special place.  While I've certainly sensed this for years, I have sensed it with special fervor in more recent months.

One final thought I have on this Thanksgiving:  It was around this time 150 years ago, in 1863, that Americans celebrated the first annual Thanksgiving Day, which had been established by a Presidential Proclamation back at the beginning of October that year.  I read President Lincoln's proclamation at dinner, and as I did so, I couldn't help but notice all the wonderful things he said the country had to be thankful for, such as bountiful agriculture harvests, large production of other resources, and development of new settlements.  And he was saying all of this while the country was in the midst of a terrible war.  It really says something when he could be so expressive in thanksgiving in the midst of trying times.  Perhaps that's what gives Thanksgiving substance, when it is born out of a recognition that we still have so much to be thankful for, even in hard times, because of what we already have.

As a person of faith, I certainly recognize that with God with us, ultimately working all circumstances in our favor.  Indeed, in God, we are all taken care of.  So we can always go forth with strong purpose in life, especially Thanksgiving.

 

Here two symbols of Thanksgiving come together in one picture:  On the left is the US flag, representing how much we have to be thankful for in this great country.  Then, to the right, there's the dome of Ascension Roman Catholic Church, on whose top is a (greenish) statue representing Christ in His Glory, who attained for us salvation, and is our reason for Thanksgiving, on this occasion, and at all times we gather for the Eucharist.



Ambling around in "CharlesTown"

So I arrived early in the morning of October 14.  I was able to check-in early to my hotel, even though I had to wait about an hour and a half until 7 AM.

After getting my luggage into the room, I headed off to the Convention Center.  It is a medium-sized space that served the NWA meeting well, as it is not as large of an affair as the AMS Annual Meeting.  It is located right next door to the Coliseum, which is a performing arts venue.  As I walked the 1000-yard distance (that was according to the convention center's website), I started to take notice that I was really in South Carolina with the Palmetto trees lining the streets.

The convention center is located in a commercial area of North Charleston.  To the north of the center is an area with lots of shops and restaurants, anchored by Tanger Outlet store.  On Monday, I spent most of my time at the meeting, venturing away a couple of times.

First, I went out for lunch with the group of ValpU people I met there.  We walked to the edge of the Convention Center/Coliseum parking lot into a wooded area, then on a boardwalk, and then across the Hilton Hotel parking lot where there was a Wendy's.

Later, in the early evening, I walked up north from the convention center into the commercial area, and stopped in at the Wal-Mart there.

The next day, Tuesday, after attending sessions, I decided to take a trek into downtown Charleston.  When I was planning this trip, I had thought about taking the time to go downtown and then go to Fort Sumter.  However, it was closed because the federal government was in shutdown mode.  While I could have still taken a curtailed tour of the harbor, which would have normally included a stop at Fort Sumter, I decided to just head down for an afternoon and walk around, with the hope of returning to Charleston and tour not only Fort Sumter, but also Fort Moultrie, once built of the sturdy Palmettos, which became South Carolina's proud symbol.

I got a quick lunch, and then hopped on the free NASH (North Area Shuttle) Bus, which circulates in a loop in the Tanger Outlet and Convention Center area, and rode it to the Charleston International Airport.  There, I picked up the CARTA (Charleston Area Rapid Transit Authority) bus #11, and rode it all the way to its terminus downtown.  The ride took close to an hour, and I passed through a number of residential and commercial areas in the north suburbs and then the city proper.  Some areas looked a bit worn, even right up into the downtown area.  (It was a good day for an outing like this, with warm temperatures close to 80, under sunny skies.)

After disembarking, I started walking around.  I went to the Visitors' Center to acquiant myself with the historic downtown area.  Historic buildings line all the streets, and many of them look quite resplendent.  At one point, I hopped on a free (and crowded) trolley--there are a number of Downtown Area Shuttle (DASH) trolley routes--and rode it a few blocks as I sought to follow an itinerary I was making up on the spot for places I wanted to see within a couple of hours' time.

As I walked east when where I disembarked the trolley, I stumbled upon quite a discovery: the Charleston Marketplace.  I had no idea of the existence of a marketplace full of vendors stretching for blocks in the median of traffic going east toward the waterfront.  They sold all kinds of handicrafts, apparel, food, and souvenirs.  I kept walking east, looking over all of it.

At one point, I stepped inside a shop, and a man was there weaving roses made out of palmettos, and asked me if I wanted one.  After verifying it was genuine South Carolian Palmetto, I bought one for $2.  (As I continued walking around, I saw some others on the streetsides weaving Palmetto roses.)

Once I reached the eastern end of the marketplace, I headed south on Bay Street.  I passed by Rainbow Row, a collection of houses painted with vivid colors. 

Eventually, I came upon the edge of the waterfront, and walked along it all the way to the Battery.  It was there that I caught sight of Fort Sumter.  At least, I had to assume it was Fort Sumter, because I couldn't think of what else could be out there in that spot in the harbor toward the Atlantic Ocean.  I looked into the water area at the site that began one of the most significant conflicts in US history.

Then I looked around the Park at the Battery, recognizing the site as the one place from South Carolina virtually recreated in the Where in the USA is Carmen Sandiego? Amtrak version computer game, which I played often in my childhood.

Then I headed north from the park, taking in views of the resplendent homes, wondering about the lifestyle of their wealthy inhabitants back in the 18th Century when Charleston was a prospering port city. 

I also took note of the site of the hall where the Ordinance of Secession was approved for South Carolina, whereby it effectively lef the United States.  I had thought maybe that action had taken place in the state capital in Columbia, but the info sign in front of the site (now a bank building) made it clear that while the proceedings started there, they came to their momentous end in Charleston.

While walking along, I just had to pose for a picture by South Carolina's symbol, a Palmetto tree.  (Thanks to the woman walking with a man I stopped for taking this picture, to the right.)

Getting on toward 5 PM, I hopped on a DASH trolley to reach the visitors' Center, where I purchased another snow globe for my collection.  Then I waited for the #11 bus to take me back to North Charleston.  This time, being on the northbound route, it dropped me off by the Tanger Outlet.  I got dinner, and then rode the NASH to the intersection near my hotel.

After taking some time to have dinner in the hotel breakfast area, I walked to the bus stop to catch the #104 bus that went along the Montague Avenue corridor.  It dropped me off right by the train tracks, and I walked south about 5 minutes or so to the train station.  There I waited for the northbound Silver Meteor train, which got stuck behind a freight train about 10 miles away and showed up more than an hour and a half late.  In the mean time, I got talking with some of my fellow passengers and others who were there to see people off or pick people up.

I was on my way just after 11 PM and settled in for the night, heading north toward the illustrious Capital city of the United States, the start of my journey home, which you can read more about in a subsequent post...

Reflection on the Year of Faith

Last year, in October 2012, then-Pope Benedict XVI, now Pope Emeritus, proclaimed the Year of Faith, starting on the anniversary year-50 of the commencement of the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council, lasting until November 24, 2013, the Feast of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe.  Vatican II unleashed a great deal of new energy into the Roman Catholic Church, changing how we worship and live out our faith.

I look back now upon this Year of Faith, and the experiences I had in my life of faith.

For starters, here are some statistics: Beyond my home parish of Ascension in Oak Park and St. Teresa's in Valparaiso, I attended Mass at six other different parishes:

• St. Mary's Cathedral, the diocesan cathedral in Austin, TX,
• St. Augustine in Winnebago, NE, on the Winnebago Reservation
• St. Cornelius, in the Jefferson Park neighborhood on the Northwest Side of Chicago, where I was baptized
• St. Giles, on the north side of Oak Park, where I participated in their Family Mass community for a few years
• the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, in Washington, DC
• St. Martin de Porres, in the Chicago's West Side neighborhood of Austin
• St. Mary of Celle, in Berwyn, IL, just a few blocks from my home

I also became eligible for three plenary indulgences, two of which came only ten days apart, without even seeking them out.

But beyond the statistics lie some amazing stories of faith coming alive in worship, service, and community.  Here are some brief highlights of some of those memorable experiences:

• Mission/Service Trip to St. Augustine: This was the first time I had been on a trip like this.  I came intimately into the brokenness of the world, man's inhumanity to man.  I also witnessed closely the hope coming from this faith community.  And I thrust myself into serving them with an energy like I had never had before, with an incredible group of people. (Plenary Indulgence #1)
• Transition from Benedict XVI to Francis I: It was quite a shocker to open up my e-mail inbox and see the news of Benedict's abdication.  A month later, I was fortunate enough to be home on Spring Break so that I could stay glued to the proceedings on TV of the election of Francis, unlike Benedict's election, when I was at school.  It was an exhilarating experience, from the moment I saw the white smoke. (Plenary Indulgence #2)
• Teaching RE classes: This has been a dream come true, as I had yearnings to do this for some time.  I'm now teaching students who are at an age when my faith was being profoundly shaped.  Sharing matters of faith has given it a whole new dimension.  The greatest pleasure is when the students show they're really into the material I'm presenting in class and ask good questions that allow me to present great insights.
• Helping out at the Confirmation Retreat: This was an opportunity that came out of my being a catechist, and allowed me to interact with these young people who were confirmed a month later, who are the future of the Roman Catholic Church.  Within the structure of the activities, I was able to engage with them through insights of faith.  After the retreat, I went into the Catechism to refine my understanding of topics they brought up in questions during activities.
• Visit to the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception: This is one of the most beautiful churches I've ever been inside, a true visual feast.  The art is a celebration of faith from places all over the world converging in the United States, at a structure in the important city of Washington, D.C.  I was able to celebrate how I fit in to this whole picture of faith in the United States. (Plenary Indulgence #3)
• Silver Anniversary Celebration at St. Martin de Porres: It was a true joy to join in the celebration of this community and what it has accomplished on the West Side of Chicago as a member of a sharing parish, especially with other Ascension parishioners and Cardinal George.
• One other highlight that functions as a broader category are the opportunities I've had to stand up for what I know is right for society.  I've participated in a number of pro-life demonstrations, and in the Defend Marriage Lobby Day during this year.  These issues are pressing on account of the impact they have on our society, and so I've gone to the frontlines to take a stance for what God desires for our society.

To cap it all off, I had the privilege of serving as the thurifer, swinging around the thurible (incense pot) to create rising smoke as a physical symbol of the prayers we offer as a Church, one of the vestiges to enhance the liturgies on this Christ the King Sunday.  This was the second time I have served as thurifer, the other time being back last May on Ascension Sunday, my home parish's feast day.

What a feeling it is to put on that alb, and walk around in sacred space performing sacred gestures: creating smoke up the main aisle, handing it to the priest to incense the sacred things in blessing, and then incensing the priest and the people before the Eucharistic prayer.  (There's a lot involved in being thurifer, but it came off so well during Mass.)  I love the beauty of the rising incense smoke.  I love just standing in it as a reminder of how our prayers rise to God.  It is an ancient symbol, which continues functioning today in our life of faith.  What a way to enhance our celebration of Christ the King.

To top off the day, I attended an Interfaith Thanksgiving Prayer Service at Oak Park's United Lutheran Church, sponsored by the Oak Park-River Forest Community of Congregations.  This was my fourth time attending this service, and it has meaningful for me each time.  People of diverse denomination and religious communities within the OPRF area come together in shared celebration of our American Thanksgiving holiday.  How beautiful were the collections of prayers and songs acclaiming God's goodness and thanking Him, especially the Jewish prayer.  We were privileged at this gathering to have Chicago Tribune religion reporter Manya Brachear Pashman give the message.  In it, she reflected on a story she wrote about a man named Uncle Pete who gave of himself generously in providing for others on Chicago's West Side, even though he wasn't a wealthy man.  Manya put it well when she said that thanksgiving is something to do all the time, especially in abundance, spiritual or physical.

As I stand here at the end of this liturgical year, I know that I am in the midst of a spiritual abundance, given all the above experiences and more.  Thanks be to God!

Seeds, Seeds, Seeds

I went to the library--as is my habit--back on Saturday, November 16, and read the Chicago Tribune.  There was an article on the front page about a project in Riverside sponsoring an annual event, the 1000 Tree Seed Planting project.  It all started with one man, Tom Sisulak, who spends a lot of time collecting seeds for trees.  He then organizes volunteers to plant them, to help populate the area with native tree species.  His goal is to plant 1000 seeds every year.  I was intrigued by this project, and took note of the information at the article's end about participating.

So this morning, I went to the Riverside United Methodist Church to join the effort--which was another opportunity to be in the absolutely lovely village of Riverside, just saying.  This church has sponsored this project since 2007 as a way to care for the environment.  They expected about 60 volunteers, up from about 15-20 last year.  120 people showed up, many because of the Chicago Tribune article.

The event began with a few remarks on trees and their environment from Tom and Riverside's Forester, Mike Collins.  I certainly learned a lot about different types of trees from Tom and Mike.  The church's pastor also made some remarks and offered a prayer.  A couple of representatives from the Westchester-based Native American organization Midwest Soaring made some remarks about doing good for the environment, and played a flute song for us.

After getting information on the logistics of planting, we organized into groups and scattered to various sections of the wooded areas along the sharp bend in the Des Plaines River in the southwestern part of Riverside.  It was a cold day, but I felt my hands warming up once I got working, clearing ground, digging holes, putting the seeds in, and covering them up.  I was out there for about a couple of hours.  After I finished with another couple, it was back to the church for chili, hot chocolate, and cookies.  And before leaving, we all got a certificate for participating.  In the end, all of us volunteers may have well planted 2000 seeds.  And Tom has a collection of about 5000 more in storage at the church.

It was great to participate in this effort.  While I am skeptical about alarmism surrounding global climate change, I am definitely eager to pitch in and help do something good for the environment.  The seeds we planted today will get readied by the environment over the winter for sprouting in the spring.  They'll grow up into large trees along the Des Plaines River's banks for the next 100, 200, even 300 years.  These trees will benefit the environment in many ways.  And we were there to help nature along, just like many critters do, such as squirrels.

To read the Chicago Tribune article about the project, see this link: http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/local/ct-met-tree-planter-20131115,0,2204113.story

And here are some pictures: http://galleries.apps.chicagotribune.com/chi-photos-planting-1000-tree-seeds-20131116/

"Fourscore and Seven Years" Fourscore and Seventy Years Later

This past Tuesday, November 19, marked the day 150 years since the dedication of the cemetery at the Gettysburg battlefield, during which Abraham Lincoln gave the now-famous Gettysburg Address.  What follows are my thoughts on this occasion and that famous speech, in 272 words, just like the number of words in that oration:

The Gettysburg Address truly came from the heart of Mr. Lincoln’s simplicity.  He was a man who never made much of himself, as the quotations attest on a wall at the visitors’ center at the National Historic Site now at his birthplace in central Kentucky.  The circumstances of an immensely significant time in American history put him on center stage, and he has been revered for generations since.  The speech was written to express some thoughts on the grave reality of the war going on at the time.  Yet is a speech that has been “long remembered” in the sevenscore and ten years since, and shall surely for many more score.

In a trying time in the United States, President Lincoln reached back to the beginning of this nation, the spirit of 1776, and the values upon which it was founded, which have served as a driving force for years hence, through his time unto ours.  The Founders had a vision of liberty, freedom, justice, and equality for all people.  It wasn’t fully realized then, but set in motion a drive to more fully realize it as part of the American experience.

This is a vision that inspires me today.  Even in the midst of the troubles we face as a nation, by renewing ourselves in that vision, under God, we will become a great nation as we work to realize this dream of liberty and freedom for all.  We have stood out as a nation before all the world for more than two centuries because of this vision, and as it becomes more of a reality, we will continue to shine.

If you haven’t gotten the chance yet, read the text of this oration here: http://www.ourdocuments.gov/doc.php?flash=true&doc=36&page=transcript

 

Dark Day

This is the 50th Anniversary of the assasination of President John F. Kennedy.

Back in January of this calendar year, while enroute to Austin, TX, for the AMS meeting, I passed by the Ground Zero of that terrible day.  After pulling out of Dallas Union Station, the train I was on traveled about 1/2 mile north, and passed within full view of Dealey Plaza and the Texas Schoolbook Depository.  The train was on tracks that cross above the roadway that leads from Dealey Plaza, which President Kennedy's motorcade sped on after the fatal shots took their hit.

(The Texas School Book Depository is the orangish-colored building in the left middle part of this photo.  The roadway is just below and to the right of it.  The train stopped here for a few minutes, enough time for me to get pictures from the Observation/Lounge car.  Later in the trip, I looked at an exhibit on this day at the Lyndon Baines Johnson Presidential Library.  I saw the missal he placed his hand on when he took the Oath of Office on display there.)

Not too long after my trip to Texas, I was visiting with the Ruggabers.  During the course of our time together, our conversation turned to this day.  They were both just a little bit younger than me on that day.  They mentioned that I only live in the hereafter of that day.

I indeed am humbled on this occasion recognizing that my life is well-removed from the tragedy of that day.  I was born nearly 30 years after a day that devastated the people of the United States.  I am among a large group of US Americans alive today who only perceive November 22, 1963, as a day of momentous historic significance.  Though through experiences like on the aforementioned trip, I have brought myself into contact with pieces of that day, I have no conception of the raw emotions people felt that day.  Even my parents were little children on that day.  The big question of that persists from that day was, "Where were you [when you first heard of President Kennedy's death]?" 

"Where were you?"  That is a question I can clearly answer in regards to September 11, 2001.  I can very clearly recount everything that happened that day, and where I was when I learned what had happened.  This awful day seared into my memory surely shapes how I perceive the world I have grown up in.  But more than a decade later, there are so many young Americans who don't have such vivid memories of that day, including many who were alive that day, but were too young to remember much, even being only a few years younger than me.  And we're not too far away from having an entire generation of Americans who weren't even alive on that day.

In regards to September 11, 2001, like those alive on November 22, 1963, I am a witness to a day that had a grave effect on the course of the history that followed.  I, like them, grapple with the terrible things I observed, as I seek to make sense of evil in the world, and my place in that world.

Journeying to the Charleston Area

So I already wrote a post sharing about what I experienced at the NWA conference, in the post "Expressing Weather Enthusiasm" back in October.  Yet I am a firm believer in the reality that the journey is as much a part of any traveling as the destination.  That couldn't be more true regarding my journey to North Charleston, SC, as well as my travels around the Charleston area.  So I continue writing to relate some of the particulars.

As it turned out with my personal circumstances, I ended up using Amtrak to reach North Charleston.  This particular train ride resembled another journey I took by Amtrak many years ago with my family, when I was 5 years old.  I rode more than one train to get to my destination, and upon arrival (at one of the destinations), I checked in to my hotel well before the standard check-in time, as had been the case when my family stopped in Sacramento, CA.

For this journey to South Carolina, I rode two different Amtrak lines: the Capitol Limited Line between Chicago and Washington, DC, and the Silver Meteor between Washington, DC, and North Charleston, SC.

By the way, Amtrak's Charleston, SC, station is actually located in North Charleston, SC, which is also where the Charleston Area Convention Center and Charleston International Airport are located, not to mention my hotel.  I am clear to make the distinction of the particular place within a larger geographical area.  I do so especially in light of a conversation I had with a man on the Silver Meteor train going south.  I told him that I was headed to the NWA conference at the North Charleston Convention Center.  Later, when I told him this would be my first time in South Carolina, he was clear to say that I was going to North Charleston, not South Carolina, distinguishing the latter as not really being representative of the former.  He added that it would be worth my while to go to downtown Charleston.  And you know, if I hadn't, I would have been cooped up in North Charleston during my whole time there, with my only sense of being in South Carolina manifested by the plethora of Palmetto trees planted everywhere around the North Charleston commercial area, of which the convention center was a part.

I boarded the Capitol Limited at Chicago Union Station on Saturday evening.  It ended up leaving an hour late, held over so a few passengers could make their connection from a train originating out west.  But with the way the schedule is structured, it was only 10 minutes late arriving at Washington, DC.

It was already dark as we headed out of Union Station, but I caught some glimpses of sites on Chicago's South Side and then in Northwest Indiana, like the cities Gary and LaPorte, the latter of which I remembered from when I visited a good friend of mine who lives there.  At South Bend, a certain man got on who made for some very lively company on the train ride east.

During the night, I stepped off at Toledo to get some fresh air, and later caught glimpses of Cleveland and Pittsburgh.  The sun had already risen as we pulled into Connellsville, PA, a sizable city in the generally rural southwestern part of that commonwealth.  From there, we headed through some very scenic areas of the Appalachian highlands in Maryland and West Virginia.  One spot that really fascinated me was Harper's Ferry, a town with historical importance, and located at a geographically significant spot, where Virginia, West Virginia, and Maryland meet, and where the Shenadoah and Potomac Rivers meet.  (It was also nice to pass through West Virginia, celebrating 150 years of statehood this year.)

While we rode along, I referred to a route guide brochure that offered fascinating snippets about the culture and history of the places we passed through.

It was only a short matter of time after leaving Harper's Ferry that we entered the Washington, DC, Metro Area.  I couldn't help but sense a difference in this urban area versus the Chicago area, as the developments have such a different feel, like in the arrangement of the buildings, and it seemed as if there was so much more greenery, like the trees strewing the tracks leading into the city, which were tucked away a little bit from the homes and buildings we passed by.

Shortly before 1:30 PM, we pulled into Washington, DC, Union Station.  Both on the trip there, and the return trip, I would have a multiple-hour layover in the nation's capitol.  This excited me because I couldn't think of a better place to have a long layover.  The idea of being able to spend some time there even factored into my decision of which train route itinerary I used to return to Chicago.

The first thing I delved into was the dining selections at Union Station.  From being there just a couple years before, I knew there were quite a number of eateries there.  So upon disembarking and walking off the platform into the station, I walked around to look at the selections before deciding which one I would pick.  While doing so, I was offered a number of free samples.  I eventually decided upon some honey chicken with rice and vegetables at a Chinese place.  And I went outside to the plaza in front of the station entrance to enjoy it.

Then I decided to just walk around, encountering a number of churches in the vicinity of Capitol Hill.  First, I went over to St. Joseph's Roman Catholic Parish, kitty corner northeast to the Senate Office buildings, and sat out on the grounds there for a bit.  Then I walked along 2nd Street, and poked my head in the Folger Shakespeare Library.  I passed by some other churches, Lutheran Church of the Reformation and St. Mark's Episcopal, before reaching St. Peter's on Capitol Hill Roman Catholic Parish, about a block from the House Office buildings.  I sat inside for a while.

Subsequently, I decided to fulfill my desire to see Georgetown.  So I hopped on the Metro at Capitol South and rode it west to Foggy Bottom.  I have to say, I REALLY LIKE the Washington, DC, Metro train system.  It's a cool system, very modern, and has a great network that goes all over the metro area.  The only disadvantage for someone like me is that paying the fares isn't so feasible as in other cities, like Chicago, where the fare is based on the distance traveled, and isn't a flat amount of money, not to mention the surcharge for not using the SmarTrip pass.

I disembarked at Foggy Bottom (what an interesting name), and walked west along Pennsylvania Avenue until I crossed over the Rock Creek Parkway Bridge.  Georgetown fascinates me because it harkens back to Washington, DC's 18th-Century heritage, especially in the design of the buildings.  After looking around for a bit, I went to grab some dinner at George's, a small Middle Eastern restaurant.  I had a falafel platter.

Once I finished dinner, I walked down to see the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal corridor, which starts in Georgetown.  (It actually forms one of the longest National Parks in the country.)  Then, I walked about 3/4 mile east back to the Foggy Bottom station, and rode two train lines to Union Station.  By this time, my train south appeared on the train board, and so I went to the gate to await its arrival from New York City.

About 7:10, the boarding call was made, and so I got in line, and made my way to the platform.  Up until this point, I had been wondering how the train was going to travel through the city of Washington, DC, to get south.  From looking at maps of the city, the tracks were only shown to head northward from Union Station.  I figured all of this out as soon as I found myself walking on some stairs headed down to the train's platform.  The trains heading south from Washington, DC, Union Station go underneath the street level.  They then reemerge above ground on the south side of the National Mall.  As we headed out of the city, I got some great views.

We started traveling in an area I remembered well from the 2004 trip I made with my family to the area, when we stayed in Alexandria, and rode the Blue/Yellow Metro Line corridor from there into the city.  The train stopped in Alexandria, within sight of the George Washington National Masonic Memorial Temple, and the Fairfield Hotel we stayed at.

Then, it was into the dark of the night and deep into the Commonwealth of Virginia.  Throughout the ride before lights out, I got to talking with some of the fellow passengers, including this man named Phil Meyer, who told me about North Charleston vs. Charleston.  He also flashed some of his wit and humor, like pointing out how people stumbled around a bit to get to the lavatory in the rear of the train car, but walked steadily when headed forward.  (As an aside, this was my first time riding long-distance on a single-level traincar, unlike the double-decker Superliner trains I have ridden to/from Chicago.)

Between 9:30 and 10:00, when the train stopped at the Richmond Staple Mills Road station, I stepped off the train to walk around and get some air.

During the night, the train passed through southern Virginia, North Carolina, and into South Carolina.  Around 2 AM, when the train stopped in Florence, I decided to step off for some air.  And that was the first time I had ever set foot into South Carolina.  (It makes me think back to when I stepped off the train at the Longview, TX, Amtrak station, my first time setting foot in Texas.)

Just before 5 PM, a few minutes ahead of the scheduled arrival time of 5:06 AM, the train reached the station in North Charleston.  I disembarked, and was struck by how beautifully mild it felt outside at that very early hour.  While waiting to get a taxi, I chatted with Phil, who enlightened me some more about the climate and politics of the local area, before parting ways with him to join another friendly guy on the very short ride (all of about 5 minutes, at most) to my hotel, Comfort Inn.  And so there I was, in the early morning dark, beginning my time in the Charleston area, which you can read more about in a subsequent post...

Cold Rain, Veterans and me

Eagerly desiring to do so, I attended the Veterans' Day Ceremony at the Peace Triumphant Monument in Scoville Park this past Monday.  (Fun fact: Back in 1925, Vice President Charles Dawes, an Evanston resident, came to Oak Park to dedicate this monument to those who had served in World War I from Oak Park and neighboring River Forest.)

A steady, cold rain had taken hold by the time I got to the ceremony at 11 A.M.  The ceremony probably lasted for about 20-30 minutes, and the rain didn't let up at all during that time.  But I stood there, a bit uncomfortably, through the prayers, songs, remarks, and formal gestures, like the presentation of the colors, the placing of the wreaths, a firearms salute, and taps.  As I did so, I couldn't help but think of all those soldiers who were in active combat who endured conditions as bad as, if not worse than, what I was in at a ceremony to honor them.  And to think of how they did this for much more than a few minutes, and couldn't follow quickly by some hot cider inside a warm building as I did when I went to the reception at the nearby Hemingway Museum.  It really says something about what it meant for these soldiers to serve higher purposes in answering the call of country to head out to war.  And it really speaks to how they deserve our continued thanks and support.

1000 Views

Greetings to the wonderful readers of this blog!

So I've just checked my blog's statistics, and there have now been over 1000 views since my blog started back in June.  I'm not sure when the 1000th view took place, but it was sometime between 9 AM this morning and last night when I checked it, and the views were in the 990's.  Thanks to everyone for reading and following along with what's been going on in my post-ValpU life.

I hope you continue enjoying the posts as much as I enjoy writing them and reflecting on the happenings in my life.

Blessings,
Paul

Making the Case Against RFMF

I recently wrote a post on my experience at Defend Marriage Lobby Day at the Illinois State Capitol in Springfield, to express my opposition to Senate Bill 10, the Religious Freedom and Marriage Fairness Act.  Now I wish to make the case against the legislation passed by the Illinois Senate and before the Illinois House to legalize same-sex marriage in Illinois.  I write here of what I feel are the most compelling reasons I have for opposing this legislation, among others.

For starters, I turn to the Creation account in the beginning of Genesis.  God created a man, Adam, and, determining it wasn't good for him to be alone, decided to create a companion for him.  And so God created woman, Eve.  I think there's a lot to be said for God creating a woman.  He could have created another man for Adam as his companion.  And He could have made it possible for the two men to have sexual relations and reproduce, blessing their union as marriage.  Or he could have started with woman and created another woman, both capable of procreation together.  This makes no sense to us because we are within the system of male and female reproducing offspring.  But God is the One who created the system, and He could do whatever He desired.  I firmly believe there is a reason He created woman for man, and ordained the institution of marriage as a special union joining one person from each of the two genders for such a special, intimate relationship.  (Even in my own experiences, I feel life is more complete with the presence of females.)

That argument is based on the Bible.  But let me to turn to consider some other social considerations for why same-sex marriage shouldn't be legalized.  In 2011, Illinois legalized civil unions for same-sex couples.  Now, there's legislation for legalizing same-sex marriage.  Clearly, civil unions were not enough for the LGBTQ activists.  If same-sex marriage is legalized, what's to stop the activists from pushing further to redefine marriage?  Our society could face the possibility of legalizing marital unions with more than two people.  Imagine having a marital union, say, with 10 men raising two children.  The intimacy of marriage between a man and a woman raising their children would be lost in the midst of so many partners in the marriage relationship.  If these relationships abound, families will lack any kind of strong structure, and that could have serious repercussions in our society, as children grow up without a solid family.  (I note also that there are already restrictions on marriage, prohibitions on marrying a minor, or someone of close blood relations, no matter how much of a romantic attraction there is, because it is clear there are already problems with allowing marriage in those circumstances.)

There's one more reason I present for opposing this legislation, which is alluded to in the above paragraph.  Legalizing same-sex marriage will unleash a socio-cultural shift in Illinois that is already underway in places where these marriages are legal.  If this legislation becomes law, the non-heterosexual lifestyle will gain a substantial degree of legitimacy.  Yet there will still be people, myself included, that will firmly believe in marriage as a relationship between one man and one woman.  But respect for our beliefs will deteriorate in a society where same-sex marriage is legitimized.  Photographers and bakers will be forced to provide their services to same-sex weddings against their beliefs, or face punishment.  Faith-based social services, like adoption agencies, will be forced to serve homosexual couples against their beliefs, or close their doors.  Even schools will have to teach their students that homosexual relationships are appropriate, or face harassment as being "gay haters", and families that home school their children might not be off the hook.  This should hit home with my state representative, LaShawn Ford, who has voiced his support for the legislation.  He sends his daughter to the school at my home parish.  Even this religious school could be forced to violate the teachings of the church to promote homosexual marriage in its classes.

This act is contains the words "Religious Freedom" in its title, and while its true that religious institutions can be exempt from endorsing homosexual weddings, this act will not protect the many individuals who stand by their beliefs out in society, outside the church.  And even if churches are allowed to not hold same-sex weddings, they might still be harrassed, and not receive any further protection from activists out to attack them.

The implications of what this act might unleash in our society indicate that it is not the way to resolve the problem of LGBTQ rights.  There are other ways this can be dealt with.  In the case of United States vs. Windsor, the estate tax could have just been eliminated, which would benefit everyone in society.  And there are other ways to extend rights to LGBTQ people.  But there is no need to redefine marriage to suit the desires of gay and lesbian couples, despite their cries that they deserve the "equal right" of marriage.  (Note that they already have the right to marry a person of the opposite gender, and thus have equal rights.  They are really arguing for another right, to marry any other person, regardless of gender.)

The LGBTQ activists speak to the how this legislation is part of the arc of the universe moving inevitably toward justice for all, an allusion to the Civil Rights Movement.  But what I firmly believe is that the arc of the universe is moving inevitably toward acknowledging God’s Sovereignty, and He will triumph and do what is right for us.  But we can't always expect to get everything we want from Him.  We have to submit to Him in obedience, because His ways are ultimately best for us.  I say this knowing that while I am obedient to God in my beliefs about marriage, I struggle to be obedient in other ways.  But at the same time, God imparts His righteousness to me through Jesus Christ, making me more like Him, and strengthens me to stand for what is right.  

That's why I went down to Springfield on October 23.  And that's why I call upon the Illinois State House of Representatives to oppose this legislation.

An Encounter, Leading to a Special Celebration

Once a month, bag upon bag of groceries are brought up to the altar at Ascension Parish, my home parish, under the dome with its mural of the Ascended Christ in Glory.  Those grocery bags are then taken over to the food pantry at St. Martin de Porres Parish in the Austin neighborhood on the West Side of Chicago.  Because of the immense generosity of Ascension parishioners, the bags usually fill up a small truck and a large van.

Ascension has regularly given to the St. Martin de Porres food pantry for as long as I can remember.  After having done my part to give donations month after month, it was all in good timing to take myself over to St. Martin de Porres for a very special celebration: their Silver Anniversary, on November 3, the Feast Day of St. Martin de Porres.

He was a mixed race Spanish-African man who sought to do good works for people (and animals) in Spanish colonial Peru.  He is regarded today as the Patron Saint of Social Justice and Race Relations.  And that's just what this parish has sought to do on the West side of Chicago for the past 25 years.  It was formed when three different parishes on the West Side were merged into one; they settled in their present worship space at the former St. Thomas Aquinas Church building.  (Father Tom, in his remarks at the end of Mass, said that this church building is considered the Cathedral of Chicago's West Side.)

I saw a note in the Ascension bulletin saying that a group of Ascension parishioners were going to join the celebratory Mass at St. Martin's.  I was eager to take advantage of the opportunity to be present at this parish.  At dinner the evening before, I mentioned I was headed there, and Dad decided to come along, too.

So we biked (per Dad's suggestion) the approximately 3-mile distance from our house on Sunday morning for the special 10 AM Mass.  Upon arriving, I saw a sign out front that made me aware of some details that I had not necessarily picked up from the bulletin, which announced their 25th Anniversary celebration Mass, and welcomed Cardinal George, Archbishop of Chicago.  I was definitely not aware Cardinal George was coming, and it was nice to see him.  This would be the fourth time I attended Mass with Cardinal George as the celebrant.

Upon walking in the church, Dad and I looked around at the beautiful artistic work throughout the sanctuary.  We were greeted right away by a statue of St. Martin de Porres himself.  (In some ways, this sanctuary reminded me of the Cathedral of Holy Angels in Gary, IN, with a similar architectural style, especially the arches, and the large baptismal font placed in the nave, so that the procession up the central aisle had to go around it.)

We met up with the other Ascension parishioners who had come.  It was a lively scene leading up to the start of Mass, with the people in the pews, and the throng of people assembling for the procession, including the many altar servers, the celebrants, and the Knights and Ladies of Columbus, all dressed up, with plumes and everything.  Everyone and everything was decked up so resplendently--even the cake served at the lunch reception had silverly flower adornments.

The music in the service was definitely upbeat, with the choristers moving back and forth in the rhythm, leading us in offering praises to our great God, with song titles like "Let's Just Praise the Lord", "Hallelujah You're Worthy", and "Every Praise is to our God".

Cardinal George gave the homily, and the one big idea in it that really stuck out to me was about encounters.  The Cardinal referred back to last week's Gospel, describing two kinds of encounters.  There was the Pharisee, who made much of himself as he prayed before God, but there was not much else to it.  Then there was the tax collector, who pleaded for mercy, and it was in that encounter with God that he received it.

In the Gospel reading this weekend, Zacchaeus, chief tax collector, sought to encounter Jesus.  In the encounter, Jesus extended mercy to Zacchaeus, and it became new life in him.  It was in this new life that Zacchaeus pledged to give of his possessions, as a sign of his commitment to being part of this new community to which Jesus had welcomed him, to which He welcomes all of us.  We all walk in the ways of God, building up the Kingdom of God and the Body of Christ here and now on Earth, because we first had an encounter with Jesus, who extended mercy to us, which brought us into new Life.  And though the Church extends to many people, nations, and expressions of worship, what unites us is this faith in Christ, by whom God transforms us so gloriously.

So above all the wonderful pageantry and worship expressions at Mass, it was the idea of joining with these people of the same faith that made this Mass a special occasion indeed.  Furthermore, in this shared faith, this parish has been engaged in the work of making a positive impact in its local community, just as Ascension parishioners have been in giving to the food pantry to help in making a positive impact.  We do this work because God first came to us in Christ, loved us, bestowed mercy on us when we pleaded with him, and gave us new Life.

Local Pleasures, National Treasures

It's something that happens only once a year, and for the occasion, on Saturday, October 18, Mom and I headed to northwest Indiana's Lake Michigan shoreline country, a few miles north of my beloved alma mater, for a piece of local history at the Century of Progress Homes tours.

Back in the 1930's at the Century of Progress World's Fair in Chicago, there were a collection of prototype/conceptual homes, designed in a specific style, and/or to represent life in the future, as the fair looked ahead to futuristic lifestyles and showcased different places.  When the fair ended, an entrepreneur brought five of these homes to Beverly Shores, a community sitting on the Lake Michigan shoreline in northeastern Porter County, Indiana.  His business venture for them didn't work out, and eventually, they deteriorated, until determined individuals with the National Park Service and the Historic Landmarks Foundation of Indiana came to the rescue.  They found people who were willing to spend the money to fix them up in accordance with specifications based partly on how they were originally.  These leasees live in these homes, and once a year, open them up to the public for tours.

So that's just what we did this particular day, joining in the beloved company of the Ruggabers.  This was my second time on this tour, as I went the year before.  With the government's shutdown being over, we were fortunate to have NPS rangers lead these tours.

We toured five homes: The first was the Armco-Ferro House, which is a rectangular prism shape, and has a solarium on the top, with great views.

Next was the House of Tomorrow, the only house that has no occupants, as no one has been found to fix it up according to the specifications.  It is twelve-sided, and has a space to serve as an airplane hangar, the thought being decades subsequent to the 30's, there would be widespread ownership of airplanes, similar to how there has been widespread ownership of cars for the past few decades.

The next two houses are essentially complete enough in their fixes to be livable.  And the interior decor was fabulous.  (Please note that because these all five houses function as private homes, no pictures of the interiors are allowed.)  The Cypress Log House joins together what were once two separate structures, and the cypress is in keeping with a Southern US style.  There were some great views out those windows in the front of the house.

The Florida Tropical House was designed with that state in mind.  It has great views out onto the beach.

Finally, the Wieboldt-Rostone House is still being worked on, but has made a lot of progress since last year when I saw it.  It was designed to showcase a special type of material on the exterior walls.

As we toured the houses, I drew an astute insight from an exchange between one of the tourists, and one of the homes' occupants.  The tourist wanted to know who the occupant was, asking for "the owner".  The man who occupies the house pointed out, "You are the owner; we are leasing this home."

There's really something amazing to be said about that.  These homes, because they are administered by the National Park Service and the Historic Landmarks Foundation of Indiana , belong to us:  We, the people of the United States, own these homes, just as we own a wealth of other historic, cultural, and ecological treasures throughout the United States, in many NPS sites.  And we give them over to select individuals for caretaking so that they can be preserved for us to continue enjoying well into the future.

And how nice it was to take a day of pleasure to see the national treasures that are these homes, close by in the dunes at the southern tip of Lake Michigan in Indiana.

To learn more about these homes, you can go to the webpage about them within the website of the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore: http://www.nps.gov/indu/historyculture/centuryofprogress.htm

For more information on these annual tours, please go to the website of the Dunes National Park Association: http://www.dunesnationalpark.org/
The tickets for these tours, normally held around the third Saturday of October each year, usually become available for purchase in early September, so check back then for the 2014 tours.

(Note: I took all the pictures of these houses.  If you're keen on detail, I'd like to point out that I took the pictures of the Armco-Ferro and Florida Tropical Houses when I came for the tours in 2012.  The pictures of the other houses were taken during the tour I went on more recently in 2013--notice that it was a much more cloudy day in 2013.)

Two Days, Different Sentiments

You know something, I really don't like Halloween all that much.  I see it as part of a trifecta of overrated, overly-cliché holidays including St. Valentine's Day and St. Patrick's Day.  These occasions, while they have a special meaning, are buried under petty customs that cause them to be without any real substance.  While it's true that I get easily spooked, I also feel that the presence of ghoulish decorations and festivities really is a bit much.  (And given the "party" nature of the holiday, it almost seems better to have Halloween on the last Friday of October, rather than the last day.)

The only part I really find worthwhile about Halloween is the opportunity to pass out candy to children, making it a fun kid's thing, which allows it to be healthily toned down.  I especially enjoyed doing so this year, as it had been since 2008 since I lasted handed out candy at home in Oak Park.  It's fun to do something nice for children, and to see the variety of costumes.  There were at least a couple that really stood out while I handed out candy yesterday.

These sentiments about Halloween have grown in recent years, simultaneously with appreciation for the day after Halloween: All Saints' Day.  This is one of my favorite religious Holy Days.  I delight in picturing myself as part of a large company of people of Christian faith, striving to be more like God (i.e., more holy) here on Earth, joined with those who have completed their Earthly journey of faith and now are in God's presence, including those officially recognized by canonization by the Church.  They set an example for us, and urge us on to keep persevering in our strides toward holiness in our time here on Earth.  Our holiness is one of those "already here, but not yet" realities:  We have been made holy as children of God, and our holiness will be fulfilled when we reach Heaven.  Furthermore, it's fitting to cast our gaze upward to Heaven as we near the end of the Liturgical Year, when the liturgy takes on eschatological overtones.

I attended Mass this morning at my home parish with all the school students there.  Father Larry put it well in his homily, when, at the very end, he posed the question, "Whose feast day is it?", and then answered it with, "Yours".  I like that idea, and I extend it to say that this is our Feast Day, of all the saints  professing Christian faith here on Earth now, and those saints who are in Heaven.