The True Spirit

This time of year makes us all too aware of how commercialized holidays can become.

This was on my mind a week and a half ago when I visited the National Museum of Mexican Art in Chicago's Pilsen neighborhood, to see the annual Día de los Muertos Exhibit, now marking its 30th year.  This holiday is celebrated annually in Mexico at the start of November, when people remember their beloved deceased by gathering at cemeteries in a celebratory spirit.  It combines indigenous Mexican religious beliefs with the Roman Catholic holy day of All Souls' Day.

I make a point to see this exhibit every year, to behold the richness of this profound occasion that honors those who have gone before us.  Every year, there are beautiful ofrendas and other pieces of art honoring different people who have passed on.  They include traditional Mexican ofrendas, like the one in the picture below.

Olegario Pascual Hernández Mendoza (Oaxaca)

Mixteca Offering (Ofrenda Mixteca)

2016

This year's exhibit also had an ofrenda honoring those who perished in the shooting at the night club in Orlando, as well as one honoring a deceased Chicago police officer (see picture below).

Solorio Academy High School (Chicago)

Ofrenda to Officer Eric Solorio

2016

This year's exhibit discussed how 30 years ago, when it first started at the museum, many people were unaware of what the holiday was about, and had trouble understanding such a macabre occasion.  Now, Día de los Muertos has become widely known in the United States, and has become commercialized, with a variety of products available specifically for the occasion (see picture below).

I learned that back in 2013, the Disney company filed a request to trademark the term "Day of the Dead", only to withdraw it after outcry from the Hispanic community.  A satirical poster was on making a statement on what the Disney company attempted (see picture below).

Lalo Alcaraz (California)

Muerto Mouse 

2013

Poster / Cartel

I suppose there's always a risk that something will be turned into an opportunity for making money, especially a significant holiday occasion, which makes it so important to stick to the original purpose as a guide for embracing its meaning.

That's why I'm so pleased that the National Museum of Mexican Art has this annual exhibit, because it's an opportunity for us to remember what this occasion is all about.  They also have a special event for Día de los Muertos that was held for the second time ever back on October 30, in which people from the community can create ofrendas and set them up outside in adjacent Harrison Park, very much like what happens in cemeteries in Mexico.

As we gaze at the ofrendas and other pieces of art that honor those who have departed this life, it gives us the chance to think about those we hold dear in our own lives who are no longer with us.  In the midst of sadness, we can take comfort that they were once with us, and enriched our lives, and that their presence continues in the impact they still make as their memories remain with us.  The artists who contribute to the exhibit do such a wonderful job using their creative abilities to set the tone.  It is my hope that even in the midst of attempts to commercialize the occasion, by continuing with things like this exhibit, the true spirit of the holiday will persist, no matter what.

Thanks to the fellow museum visitor who got this picture of me by the exhibit's entrance.  I am delighted to visit this exhibit each year as a way to connect with a profound part of my heritage.

By the way, the exhibit will be at the museum through December 11.  Please visit the museum's website for more information if you'd like to visit.

Thanks to Raquel, on staff at the museum, who helped arrange approval for me to use the pictures that appear in this post, and provided me with the credit information for the artwork.

Five Years Later in a new Spirit

Five years ago this weekend, Roman Catholics gathered for Mass, and the stumbling began with the official launch of the newly revised English translation of the Roman Missal.

I remember going to Mass on Saturday evening of that weekend, and it was the first time in my life that I would describe attending Mass as a "chaotic" kind of experience.  We had this new translation in front of us, which altered some of the responses and words we spoke at Mass, but it was going to take some getting used to, in part because the Mass is so scripted, we can get kind of locked into what we say week after week.  We were trying to hold ourselves together as we entered into the liturgy of the Mass, but with so many changes.  Of course, it was easier to handle the new translations when we sang the words, like with the Sanctus, versus the response "And with your spirit".

While there was some dislike for the wording, for me, there were some aspects I definitely liked about the new wording.  Saying, "And with your spirit", has a noble ring to it, as the intention is to acknowledge that the Spirit of God is upon the ordained minister in a special way in his ministry.  I also like saying "I believe" in the Creeds, instead of "We believe", because expressing faith comes down to a decision each of us makes, and that we own our faith as individuals, with each person saying, "I believe and adhere to this", which happens in the context of a community as each of us says it together, rather than passively following the crowd.

Then there's the call and response right before the start of the communion rite.  Every time I say that line, "Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof..." immediately makes me think of the story of the healing centurion's servant in Matthew 8, one of many connections between the Mass and the Bible.

As for the Gloria, all the phrases praising God in the first part gets at this idea that we're so filled with awe of God we just can't stop singing His praises in a profusion of words, much like we would sing the praises of a person or a thing that we enjoy.  That's an insight I remember from a faith sharing group I attended at St. Teresa's, the church I attended while away at college, as part of the preparation for the new translation's launch.

One thing I miss is the mystery of faith response "Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again."  It put it very straightforwardly, but there's much richness in the texts of the current translation.

I also couldn't help but notice how the wording puts Roman Catholics more in line with the liturgy of other Christians:  While in college, I went to St. Paul's Lutheran Church with a couple of my LCMS friends on a handful of occasions.  When the new Roman Missal translation was launched, during my 3rd year, I noticed how the changes made the wording sound similar to what I heard spoken at St. Paul's.  Interestingly, though, when I attended liturgy at the Chapel of the Resurrection on campus, the response to "The Lord be with you," remained "And also with you".

I heard it said that it was needless to focus so much attention on new wording in the Mass, and not focus more on the action part of our faith in serving others and meeting their needs.

Looking back, I think it's good we went through this change to a different translation that is more directly a reflection of the original words of the Latin Mass:  Instead of just following along with the script passively, we went through some confusion and had to actually stop and think about what we say.  In the two months leading up to the launch of the translation, it was so wonderful to attend the faith-sharing group at St. Teresa's for several sessions, once a week, to go over the changes to the wording in different parts of the Mass, and then discuss the significance of the wording for our own lives, namely, in living out the Mass.

Ultimately, it's important that we give due attention to both worship when we gather at Mass, and then service in the times and places outside of Mass.  And when worship is done right, it inspires us to act in service to others as an expression of love in response to the God Who first loved us so much.

Keeping the Republic

I'm fairly certain that I have never woken up earlier in the morning to start my day than I did back on November 8, when the alarm I set on my phone sounded at 3:58 AM CST.

By 5 AM, I was over at a rather darkened Maze Branch of the Oak Park Public Library.  I frequented this library as a child, and got involved in my community by volunteering there in my middle and high school years during the summer.  This day, I would be working there, doing my part to serve not only the local community, but also the democratic process of the Republic of the United States of America itself, as an election judge.

For some time, I had floated the idea of being an election judge, and considered it seriously on a couple of occasions.  Back in September, with the 2016 presidential election on the horizon, I felt the time was right to seize this opportunity, so I made the arrangements.

Before Election Day, I did training, both in-person and online.  The Monday evening before, I met at Maze Library with my election judge team to do preliminary set-up of the equipment and materials for Oak Park's 16th precinct.  Leaving home to head over to Maze, sensing how close I was to Election Day, my eagerness and excitement built, and persisted even early the next morning.

In the hour between our arrival and the opening of the polls, we did more set-up, keeping ever mindful of following the proper procedures.  Upon arriving, we met the members of the 3^rd precinct election judge team, with whom we collaborated in some of the set-up, like the entrance signs, and the no-electioneering zone lines that were chalked out in blue.  (Those lines were still there, unaltered, ten days later.)  As we set-up, someone arrived at 5:30, ready to vote, but would have to wait, as would another person, who was even seeking hot coffee.

Then, the big moment came, at 6 AM, when I stepped to the entrance of the polling place, a side door facing Harrison Street, and called out to a sizable line of people waiting to vote, "The polls are open."

The long line persisted until at least 8:30 before diminishing.  After that point, the line never went much beyond the entrance doors, and there were long stretches of time after mid-morning when there wasn’t even a line. 

After announcing the opening of the polls, I lingered around the entrance, greeting voters and helping direct them.  The latter was an important task because Maze Library served as the polling place for both the 3^rd and the 16^th Oak Park Township precincts, with the respective poll equipment set up on different sides of the lower level Maze meeting room.  I spent much time studying a map of the two precincts, which paid off in helping me direct people to which of the two sides of the room they needed to go for check-in.  One statement I uttered over and over was that the 3^rd precinct is Gunderson Avenue and eastward, with check-in through the right door, while the 16^th precinct is Scoville Avenue and westward, with check-in through the left door.  (At one point later in the day, a woman leaving the polling place, hearing me call out this spiel, asked me how many times I had said that, to which I responded that I had pretty much lost track.) 

Even though I was serving as an election judge for the 16th precinct, I was readily helping direct people to the 3rd precinct, so that clearly, our two teams were in no way competing against each other, but collaborating in our important work.  This happened a lot, especially in that busy morning period, because there were so many more 16^th precinct voters who came by, and that side almost always had a much longer line than the 3^rd precinct, whose voters could, most of the time, head straight to check-in without having to wait in line.  This proved particularly helpful for some people who were headed off to work, like one person I know who teaches at Ascension School, who I whisked in immediately.

One aspect of this experience I definitely enjoyed was the interactions with the voters.  Even with the very early start to my morning, welcoming people really energized me, as I take great delight in engaging with people, even those I don't know, and helping them in some way, which makes me think of “Winning over Others” as one of my Top 5 Strengths according to the results of my Clifton StrengthsFinder assessment.  In this case, I was helping people participate in the democratic process of our Republic by voting.

Throughout the day, I enjoyed chatting with the people who came by, both as a greeter and then when I switched to sitting at the e-pollbook laptop computer at the check-in table.  It was certainly nice when people I personally knew came by, including people I knew from my Julian days and from my Confirmation class back in 2004-2005.  And since the 16^th precinct covers Ascension Parish and the surrounding blocks, I also saw many Ascension parishioners, some Ascension staff, and some parents of my Religious Education students.

It was so nice to see parents bring their children with them, so these young people could see democracy in action.  I can still picture the one man whose three children were all over him as he sat at a touch-screen machine, completing his ballot.  Then, in the evening, I was particularly delighted to see a woman come, who lived in the 3rd precinct, and brought with her two people, who appeared to be college-aged, one from Saudi Arabia, and one from Belgium, so they could see how voting happens in the United States.  Some people even asked me to take pictures of them and their children at the entrance, with the “I Voted” stickers, which were given out to the voters, as well as the children, and even the two international people I mentioned.

When serving as a greeter, it was great having the chance to be outside in the nice temperate conditions that prevailed from the late morning well into the afternoon, after a somewhat wet start to the morning.

I was still going with a lot of energy as the hours passed, even as we neared closing time.  At 7 PM, the closing announcement was made, and we started the process of tallying the votes, packing up the equipment, and signing lots of paperwork.  Because we ran into some major problems, we didn't end up leaving until 10 PM.  But I didn’t really mind the 17-hour day, because of the importance of what happened that day.

I have a list of experiences that made me feel proud to be a US Citizen.  They include watching Liberty's Kids in my youth, especially the scene in the final episode when George Washington was inaugurated President of the United States.  They have also come on trips, like when I'm traveling through the United States on a long road or train trip, taking in the heart of the country.  They've also occurred when I've watched a tour video of the United States, and recently the National Parks Adventure IMAX film.  They've come when I've visited historical sites, most especially this past summer when, after a long wait, I finally had the opportunity to tour Independence Hall in Philadelphia.  And to this list, I now add the experience of serving as an election judge on Election Day, November 8, 2016.  I say this not because of what happened at night as the election results were reported, but because of what happened during the day, as people came to vote, doing their part to make this country what it is.  It was so exciting for me to be there to facilitate the democratic process of this Republic.

Furthermore, I was reminded that the democratic process comes down to individuals going out to vote at their local polling places, making decisions that play out all the way up at the federal level.  Serving as election judge was a great opportunity to engage with the people in the local community, especially the many Ascension parishioners who I greeted and checked in, as well as other people I know from the community, and those I recognized from years past.

Regardless of who wins and loses elections, the United States government is designed to be all about the process of people participating, especially by voting.  So even when things go in a direction we consider unfavorable, we can turn again to the great and special reality that we are blessed in the United States that we get to vote.  And how fitting that just a few days after Election Day was Veterans’ Day, a reminder of the many who willingly sacrificed to maintain this way of life in our country, compelling us to do our part to carry it onward.

It was truly a profound experience serving as an election judge, especially from the moment when I signed an oath in the voter check-in label books, swearing to uphold the Constitution of the United States, and the Constitution of the State of Illinois, and to faithfully discharge the duties of election judge.

The reference to the Constitution of the United States hearkens back to 1787, when a group of people gathered throughout that summer at the Constitutional Convention in the Pennsylvania State House to create the document.  It laid out the framework for a federal government, including a Congress and a President.  But it's not just about something that happened way back then, because the power of that document and the government it created persists today, giving us the people an important role to play in our own day.

In fact, there’s a story that at the conclusion of the Constitutional Convention back on September 17, 1787, as Benjamin Franklin was being carried out of the Pennsylvania State House, he was asked about the kind of government that had been created, a republic or a monarchy.  Benjamin Franklin replied, "A republic, if you can keep it."  Certainly all the people who came out to Maze Library to vote this past Election Day, along with all the other voters, took those words to heart by voting as a means of participating in the process of keeping the Republic of the United States what it is.

At this time of year when we celebrate Thanksgiving Day, the democratic process of our government is one thing that I'm especially thankful.  And I'm so glad I had the chance to serve as an election judge, which makes me proud to be a citizen of the extraordinary United States of America.

Above is a picture I took of the Assembly Room at Independence Hall, where the Constitutional Convention met to create the Republic we have today.  Below, voters for the 16th and 3rd Oak Park precincts kept the republic by coming to Maze Library on November 8, 2016.  Behind a bare bush is the side entrance of the building that provided entry to the polling place.  If you look closely at the sidewalk toward the bottom of the photo, you can see a blue chalk line, marking the no-electioneering zone.  It was still visible on November 18 when I took this photo.

Thanksgiving Thoughts 2016

There's so much I enjoy about this holiday:  It's a quintessentially American holiday for us the people of the United States, continuing a tradition that shows what our nation is about, in having a day to remind us of giving thanks.  It also touches so richly upon the Roman Catholic tradition, the heart of which is the Mass, when we celebrate the Eucharist, which comes from a Greek term for Thanksgiving.  Attending Mass in the morning of Thanksgiving Day has become a cherished tradition for me.  (I think of how fitting it is that Thanksgiving Day falls annually on a Thursday, just like Maundy Thursday before Resurrection Sunday, when we celebrate Christ's Institution of the Eucharist.)

There's another Thanksgiving tradition I've come to embrace deeply:  Every year since 2010, on the Sunday evening preceding Thanksgiving Day, I've attended an Interfaith Thanksgiving Prayer Service sponsored by the Oak Park River-Forest Community of Congregations, an organization for the religious communities in the local area.  This year, I came full circle with the event, which was held at Oak Park Temple B'nai Abraham Zion Synagogue, the same place where it was held the first time I attended this service.

It's wonderful to join with neighbors who belong to different religious communities as we celebrate and give thanks for our blessings.  That principle was a theme that I sensed especially present throughout this year's prayer service:  Whatever our circumstances may be, they don't erase the ever present reality that we are blessed each day we have life, so that every day is a great day to give thanks.  Certainly the language of President Lincoln's Proclamation in 1863 establishing Thanksgiving Day as an annual holiday on the last Thursday of November speaks about the blessings the country was experiencing even in the midst of the heartache of war.

I'm glad to be reminded of that wonderful insight, even in the midst of present challenges I face in my life.  I know I am blessed because I am alive, and that God has made me alive in Jesus Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit. I am blessed because of the relationships that add so much to my life.  And on this American Holy Day, I am blessed to live in the United States of America, where we have freedoms that were won for us in great strife, and that give us the chance to be active participants shaping our society to be a force for good in this world.

I am blessed, and so I give thanks to God, for it is right and just to render it to the God Who is the source of all these blessings.

Celebrating New Perspectives on Mercy

With the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, on Sunday, November 20, 2016, the Extraordinary Jubilee Year of Mercy has concluded.

Here I am standing by the Holy Door of Mercy at Holy Name Cathedral in Chicago, on the evening before Christ the King Sunday.  Thanks to the man who kindly took this picture, who said he visited so many holy doors of mercy at cathedrals he couldn't remember how many off the top of his head.

The biggest take-away for me is a different perspective I have on mercy.  Sure, I knew mercy as something that someone extends to another in light of having done something wrong, and that God shows mercy to us sinners.  It's kind of like what I learned from watching Jonah: A VeggieTales Movie, in extending something to someone even when he/she doesn't deserve it.  (Please feel free to check out this video, and note what the song's lyrics say about compassion and mercy.)  And I remember Calvary high school youth pastor Craig telling us in class that "Grace is getting what we don't deserve" and "Mercy is not getting what we deserve".  That's more or less the understanding of mercy I started with back on December 8, 2015, when the Jubilee Year started.  And it seemed that my engagement with this Jubilee felt somewhat limited at first because I only abided by that one sense of mercy.

But then I started thinking more deeply about mercy, figuring this Jubilee was just the time to do so, especially in the latter part.  And my understanding of mercy broadened, particularly when I started pondering more the Corporal and Spiritual Works of Mercy.

I first encountered these works of mercy back in 8th grade when I was preparing for Confirmation.  As for the Corporal Works, I knew they are ways we meet the physical needs of people.  I didn't necessarily have as strong a command of the significance of the Spiritual Works, but I recognized that the process of helping my Religious Education students grow in relationship with God by faith connects with the Spiritual Works of Mercy, especially as they were in the process of preparing for Confirmation and then living faith beyond it.

I picked up some resources that helped me see how the Works of Mercy can be incorporated more into my life.  For example, one resource suggested that conserving water at home connects with "Giving Drink to the Thirsty" as a way of making sure I use water efficiently myself to ensure that others have sufficient water for their needs.

Then, while I was at the library, I encountered A Call to Mercy: Hearts to Love, Hands to Serve, a book that offers reflections on all 14 of the Works of Mercy, with the writings of Saint Teresa of Kolkata/Mother Teresa and those who worked closely with her as she and they reflect on her life's experiences in extending mercy to others.  It was amazing to see how Saint Mother Teresa so passionately sought to serve others and let them see the face of God the merciful Father--a passion that consumed her whole purpose in life, as she sought to see Jesus in others, the sick, and even those who criticized her.  Reading the book really challenged me to think not only about how I'm serving others through these works of mercy, but also with what attitude I do so.

I also found another book at the library, The Way of Mercy, that includes essays and other writings that speak about what mercy means, including the Bull of Indiction of the Extraordinary Jubilee of Mercy.  One theme from the bull that stood out to me was how showing mercy to others reveals God's presence to others, especially in that mercy is such an integral part of His character.

And I went on a tour at the Chicago Art Institute, which gave me opportunity to reflect on the Spiritual Works of Mercy, one at each of seven different pieces of art.  Again, the reflections really helped me ponder more deeply what it means to have a relationship with God Who aids us in life’s difficult circumstances by the power of His mercy.  It was a very well-done reflection tour.

Then, something incredible took place in my Religious Education class yesterday that connected so well with the Jubilee.  I showed the students an excerpt from a video from the Chosen curriculum that explains what happens at Mass.  Then, each one got an old children's magazine, and looked for something that demonstrates the significance of Mass.  The students shared images that talked about how God is merciful to us, how He loves us, how Mass is a way we grow closer to God, and how Mass sends us forth to do good works, like the one gal who talked about how we should care for our earth.

As I listened to the various responses to the exercise I gave them to do, I couldn't help but be amazed by how these responses all connected with mercy:  It is all about God seeking after us, revealing His very Self that desires to forgive us our sins, and draw us into a closer relationship with Himself.  It was so beautiful to hear my students share these insights as we concluded the Jubilee of Mercy.

Having received mercy through forgiveness of sins, won for us by the Paschal Mystery, we are compelled by so great a gift to share it with others, now that we stand, forgiven, in relationship with God.  And the most important part is that receiving mercy, when we embrace it wholeheartedly, necessarily shapes our attitude toward how we love others, which is a direct reflection of how we love God.  And there are no limits to how we can show love to others in concrete, real ways, from providing some food to offering comfort.  These good works are the ways we show we have real faith from the forgiveness God grants us through the Cross, which was fittingly the Gospel reading for Christ the King Sunday that concluded this Jubilee.  (Jesus bore the wrongs patiently of those who mistreated Him, and forgave those, as well as the repentant criminal.)

I feel energized by these new perspectives I've gained on mercy, and look forward to heading out from the Jubilee Year of Mercy to continue in the exchange of mercy that God gives me to share.

Hooray for Hoosiers of Note

As Election Day nears, it's notable in this 200th Year of Indiana Statehood that Indiana Governor Mike Pence, a Hoosier, is on the ticket of a major party in the presidential race, as Donald Trump's vice presidential running mate on the Republican ticket--and Governor Pence is #156 on my Indiana 200 list.

Back in the 19th Century, Schuyler Colfax (#157) served as Vice President of the United States in the first term of President Ulysses Grant, after having served in the US House, rising to the Speakership.

Also in the realm of presidential history, we can't forget that while Abraham Lincoln's Land may be Illinois, he spent part of his youth in Indiana, and so he's #158 on the list, especially considering the sign greeting I-90 eastbound motorists just across the Illinois-Indiana state line that declares Indiana as Mr. Lincoln's Boyhood home.  Lincoln Boyhood National Memorial preserves a site pertaining to his youth (#159).

And though he got going in earnest toward his fame to claim in Ohio with his brother, Wilbur Wright (#160) was born in Millville (#161).

Also in the course of his life, while charting toward a substantial professional career, renowned African-American chemical scientist Percy Julian (#162) studied at DePauw University (#163) in Greencastle (#164), which has a science and math center named for him (#165).

Another notable university, Purdue (#164) in Lafayette (#165) has Mitch Daniels (#166) as its president, the predecessor of Mike Pence.  They're home to the Boilermakers (#167), which makes for quite an interesting mascot.

Celebrating an Achievement and a Place

As I've stated before on this blog and elsewhere, when it comes to the Chicago rivalry of Cubs vs. White Sox, I'm officially neutral, because I really don't care all that much about baseball and sports in general, with the one big exception being the Olympic Games.  I find little excitement in the idea of sitting in front of the TV, or in a ball park, and watching people run around and throw a ball for 2-3 hours.  I'd much rather read a book or watch a PBS program.

Nevertheless, I have influences working on me:  The other three people in my core family root for the Cubs--and may I add that they all attended the first night game at Wrigley Field on 8-8-88.  And I was born on the North Side of Chicago.  So I have more reason to gravitate toward rooting for the Cubs than the White Sox--and passing through the South Side of Chicago, when going back and forth to Valparaiso University for four years, many times right by now-Guaranteed Rate Field--not so sure that name has a ring to it--didn't do much to sway me.

Because of these influences, 11 years ago I was kind of set again the White Sox winning the World Series, and I feel a bit ashamed because every team deserves a chance to win that championship title, and to revel in the accompanying celebration, even if it's a hometown team rivaling the one that the others in my family root for.

And then when the MLB play-offs got underway a few weeks ago, I couldn't help but latch on to the excitement of the Chicago Cubs making their way toward the World Series, especially as they got closer and closer.  After all, it had been 108 years since their last World Series Championship, and it seemed that they were deserving of a chance to clinch that honor after such a long time.  I could sympathize with the plight of the Cubs like any person could sympathize with someone who had been without experiencing something great in so long.

When the Cubs won the National League Pennant on October 22, I was in front of the TV watching the festive celebrations ensue.  And I was there again in front of the TV to watch the National Anthem and start of the first World Series game at Wrigley field in 71 years.  I kept cheering for them in my own way as they struggled through some setbacks against the Cleveland Indians, and then staged a comeback.  And I fully acknowledge that the World Series was becoming a real nail-biter in Game 6, and then especially Game 7, when the Indians caught up to them in the home run score.

But I wasn't up waiting to see how Game 7 would turn out:  I turned my light off at 11 PM, right at the time the rain delay was called, as I was going to be up early the next morning.  (As an aside, the talk was that the rain delay was a God-send.  Notably, when I watched the weather segment on the NBC 5 News at 5 PM earlier on Wednesday, Brant Miller mentioned that rain passing through Chicago that day might make it all the way to Cleveland.)  But something was stirring in me as I lay in bed, preventing me from falling asleep fully, knowing something big might happen.

Less than an hour later, I heard noise in the neighborhood.  Within a couple of minutes, I was headed to the TV, at the same time as my parents were there, to see confirmation that the Cubs, indeed, had won the World Series.  It was certainly exciting to watch the jubilant celebration in full-throttle in Cleveland and in Chicago, then to watch the trophy and MVP award being presented, and hear the thoughts of players and even Chicago Mayor Rahm Emmanuel, who were feeling so overjoyed.

Then, it was something to watch the news the next morning and take stock of what had just happened, and to even hear a jubilant tone in my Mom's voice as she kept expressing her amazement at the big news.  And it was incredible to take in snippets of the celebration parade and rally on Friday, and to hear a total of 5 million people took part along the parade route and at the rally in Grant Park.  (I would have liked to have seen what the Chicago River looked like dyed blue, as that was one intriguing detail of the celebration.)

My sense of excitement is probably superficial because I wasn't following the Cubs much at all throughout the season, until the play-offs, perhaps rendering me a "fair-weather" fan, who just gets caught up in excitement.

But maybe in the midst of this exciting celebration, I feel something stirring in me deep down.  I rejoice that the Cubs won the World Series because they are part of the identity of Chicago's North Side, which I consider part of my identity.  I'm an Oak Park resident, but I still feel a sense of connection to Chicago and especially its North Side, also being fully aware of the interconnected relationship between Oak Park and Chicago, that one can't really fully embrace its identity without the other.

Six years ago this day, Saturday November 5, 2011, when I was at Valparaiso University, I went with a group of friends to see The Count of Monte Cristo at a theater in the Rogers Park neighborhood.  When my friend and longtime roommate first told me he was organizing this trip, I jumped at the chance to go into the city.  That day, after passing through Chicago's South Side on the South Shore Line, one of many trips I've made on that train route, our group boarded the Red Line and traveled through the North Side of Chicago, at one point, only about a couple of miles east of Swedish Covenant Hospital, where I was born.  I certainly enjoyed the play, but what resonated most with me regarding this trip was to connect with Chicago, my birthplace, traveling the whole length of it, right into the North Side, close to the northern border of the city.

So I feel deeply connected with that place that's part of my identity, and the various facets of life there on the North Side, as one part of Chicago that contributes its own special elements to the patchwork quilt that is the City of Chicago.

So Go Cubs Go, and great job this season!  May you and all the fans savor this incredible achievement, as all of us in and around Chicago celebrate this special place and all the elements that contribute to what it is.

For all us Saints

I feel a sense of delight because the date on the calendar today is November 1, which is All Saints' Day, one of my favorite religious holidays.

Certainly the days of the Triduum are a high point for me because they celebrate the pivotal events of the Paschal Mystery that are at the heart of our faith as Christians.  The occasion of All Saints' Day gives us an opportunity to celebrate the manifestation of faith in the lives of the saints, the holy men and women of years past who strove to grow in relationship with God, and now praise Him in His glory.  Each saint has a special story, conveying the same message of what it means to strive for God, unto reaching His glory.

But when I was attending Mass this evening, I was reminded of the one other big reason for celebration:  We Christians in our life on Earth can aspire to be saints.  And we don't even have to wait to reach Heaven.  By striving to answer God's call for us to live holy lives, we can be saints now.

I had the opportunity to attend Mass this evening with students in my Tuesday evening Religious Education class.  I always enjoy attending Mass with my students, and on this occasion, it was especially meaningful, in light of my role as a Religious Education teacher to live out the call to holiness by guiding my students in heeding that same call, and watch them grow in relationship with God.

Just about a week and a half ago, these young people experienced the sacrament of Confirmation.  They made a profession of faith before the community of the Church, and were sealed by oil with the gift of the Holy Spirit.  For this occasion of Confirmation, they had the opportunity to pick a saint's name--and as I told them, their recent celebration of Confirmation makes All Saints' Day even more reason for celebration.

Attending the two Confirmation Masses back on October 22 was a truly special and exciting experience.  I don't have children of my own, and so being there, watching them one by one be sealed with the holy oil in Confirmation was like watching children being born, anew, into an enhanced way of life, confirmed in faith, symbolized by their oily foreheads.  There was even one point during the communion procession, when these newly Confirmed approached the Presence of Christ Himself, that I almost choked up with emotion.

Witnessing the Confirmation of another group of young people makes me take stock of my own faith journey, powerfully impacted by my own experience of this sacrament, and watching this happen to a new group of young people triggers something deep down in my soul.  And I marvel at the amazing ways God has worked in my own life in faith experiences since then, and how I can keep living it out, even in my role of supporting young people in growing in faith, nurturing them just as their parents, who brought them into the life of the church through baptism, are called to nurture them in their role as their primary catechists.

I sought to give those students in my Sunday class a gesture of encouragement and support earlier this week by bringing in my Uncle Bernie, my Confirmation sponsor, as a guest speaker, as a means to support them in living out the gift they received in Confirmation.  I suggested we get together to mark the 11-year anniversary of my Confirmation, and when we settled on last Sunday's date, and a midday timeframe, I thought it would be nice to have him share his insights with my class.  On the subject of saints, my Uncle Bernie is someone who I feel embodies what it means to be a saint this side of Heaven.  He is so involved in serving others, especially youth, even those in difficult circumstances, both in his professional work with Chicago Voyagers, and in his many involvements in his parish, Holy Family in Inverness.  He and I had an interview-style conversation before class, as he shared about what he does, and the broader meaning of service as the call we receive in the life of faith.

Thanks to Rachel, my Sunday RE class aide, for getting this picture of my Uncle Bernie, left, and me

This was a great experience for me, because it brought my Confirmation full circle:  I live out my faith supporting the students in my charge, having received support from those like my Uncle Bernie.  And conveying this message of what it means to serve, and relying on the help of others to support us in faith was an opportunity for me to heed the call to serve, as an expression of faith.

Putting myself in this position as a teacher has enriched my life so greatly, just as any parent would say their own children enrich their lives.  At the Confirmation Masses, during the time of the individual conferrals of the sacrament, I bounced around the sanctuary to acknowledge my students afterwards when they returned to their seats.  Bishop Manz had sealed their foreheads with oil, and then used that same hand to exchange with each a handshake in the sign of peace.  And then I shook their hands, and they used the same one they had used with Bishop Manz.  So in the process of all these handshakes, I got some of that holy oil on my own hand.  Truly, being present to these young people at this important moment in their lives has rubbed off as a blessing on me.  Being a teacher compels me to be my very best, to set a good example for these young people, seeking to inspire them to grow in faith, just as I was inspired by the experience of Confirmation, doing it all for the glory of God.  And it's amazing to think of the impact I've made, having two classes with a total of 37 students.  That's quite a journey I've undertaken from 11 years ago when I was in their shoes.

So when I was attending the Confirmation Masses, and then visiting with the young people and their families during the reception out on the parish green in gorgeous weather, and even partaking of the privilege of being invited to have lunch with Bishop Manz--a delicious one at that--I realized I had so much to celebrate, my own journey, and witnessing a new group of young people take a bold step in becoming saints themselves.