Intersections on April 28

It's time for me to party like it's 1991 all over again.  On April 28, about 6 weeks following my birth, I was baptized at St. Cornelius Parish on the Northwest Side of Chicago, dying and rising to new Life with Christ in the waters.

April 28 is not only a special date for me, but also for Father Edwin Pacocha, who baptized me, because that is the anniversary date of his priestly ordination.  This year is an especially fitting time to party like it's 1962, since he marks his 60th anniversary.

While I haven't had much close contact with him during my life, there's no doubt that he played an important role by baptizing me.  And he has had quite a wonderful priestly ministry, especially at St. Cornelius, where served for at least 20 years before his retirement.  One time I remember seeing him again when I was older was the summer of 2005, between middle school and high school, when he offered a post-Mass blessing for my grandparents on the occasion of their Golden Wedding Anniversary, and then offered a prayer at the banquet dinner that followed the Mass.

A few weeks ago, I thought about how he marked his 50th anniversary back in 2012, and I wondered if there were any plans for celebrating his 60th.  So I inquired at St. Eugene Parish on the Northwest Side of Chicago, where I last heard he was serving as a retired weekend Mass assistant celebrant.  I then learned that there was a special Mass and reception planned for April 23 and I set my sights on attending.  (Notably, April 23 is the Feast of St. George, my confirmation saint.)

So on that summerlike day, I left work and drove 30 miles to the Northwest Side, where I picked up my Abuela, and then we went to St. Eugene for the 5:30 Mass.  My timing was tight, but we walked in just as the opening hymn was announced.

It was a lovely Mass, fitting for the Easter Season, which is when many priests are ordained.  Father Pacocha shared some good insights about Divine Mercy Sunday in his homily, and then reflected on his time as a priest:  He talked about the changes that have happened in the liturgy, the priests he's collaborated with, and the faithful laypeople who have been involved in church.

Following Mass, Abuela and I went to greet him.  I introduced myself as someone he baptized 31 years ago.  Once he heard my last name, he instantly remembered my Dad.

There was quite a spread of food at the reception that followed, with sandwiches, veggie trays, fruit trays, dessert tarts, and then fine cake.  It was also interesting to look at the displays celebrating his anniversary, including photos from back around the time of his ordination.

Right before Abuela and I departed the reception, I approached Father Pacocha again and thanked him for baptizing me, acknowledging that it started me on a journey that's led me to some amazing experiences.  Forefront on my mind was my experience teaching Religious Education.  He told me he was glad to hear of where I'm at in life, as he often wonders whatever happens to the babies he baptized.  Indeed, he made an impact on my life by being part of handing on the faith to me, and my journey has led me to take up the work of handing it on to others, especially my students.

It's wonderful that our respective anniversaries intersect as we celebrate the gift of faith and how we put it into action.  Two days ago, I concluded another great RE year with another awesome group of students, during which I shepherded them in their walk of faith, which is why it was fitting that my class aide Kim Tanner gave me a gift of Christ the Good Shepherd socks to compliment my Holy Spirit socks.  Deep within me, I rejoice at the ways I gave of myself to them and how we together encountered God.

Father Pacocha offers his homily at Mass.

Abuela took this photo as Father Pacocha and I talked following Mass.

Today, on April 28, I wore the Good Shepherd socks I got at the last RE class earlier this week. It was fitting to wear them to recognize Father Pacocha's ministry of shepherding others to God, just as I have lived out my baptism doing so for my RE students. Thank you, Mom, for the photo.

Photo from my baptism: Father Pachoa is to the left and my Dad, at the center, is holding me

Ulysses S. Grant at 200

It was 200 years ago on April 27, 1822, that Hiram Ulysses Grant was born in Point Pleasant, OH.

His life story is filled with quite a number of interesting twists and turns, especially considering that he's recognized as one of the US presidents with an Illinois connection, one of many states where he resided.

Many years ago, I visited his home in Galena, which was given as a gift to him following his triumphant service in the US army, especially as an officer, during the Sectional War.  Like with other homes of presidents, it offered a special perspective on who he was as a person.  I remember that as my tour group went through the home, a Ulysses Grant impersonator was leading the other tour group, and giving a first-person narrative.

In some ways, that home represents quite a turn-around in status for him.  He got into West Point through connections, where his name got changed to Ulysses Simpson Grant.  He served gallantly in the US Army during the Mexican-American War, and then his life became miserable while serving at a post in the Pacific Northwest, away from his family and beloved wife.  He eventually left the army, and struggled to make a living in Galena.  The Sectional War gave him a boost in a sense of purpose in life.  He accomplished major Union victories that elevated him to the highest rank of general that has only been attained by a handful of individuals.  His popularity as a general swept him into the presidency, although he's regarded as a mediocre president.

I learned even more about him when I attended a presentation at the June 2017 Annual ALA Meeting by Ron Chernow, as he promoted his new biography about General Grant, which was released in October of that year.  You can count on Ron Chernow to do extensive research of the subjects of his book, which added lots more depth to my understanding of General Grant.  I learned about the strained relations in his family because his Missouri-based in-laws were sympathetic to the Confederate cause.  It's a thick book, and years later, I'm still making my way through it.

As we mark 200 years since his birth, we see in Ulysses S. Grant a reflection of the complexities of US history, yet also the extraordinary achievements we can attain as we do our part to upholding the USA.

Retreat in the Place Beyond Words

10 years ago this week, I participated on a Wilderness Retreat with a group from St. Teresa's, during my 3rd year at Valparaiso University.

I wrote the following reflection in an e-mail I sent to family and friends 10 years ago right after the retreat.  I share it here again, with a couple of minor edits.

We went to Shades State Park in Montgomery County, Indiana, near Crawfordsville, between Indianapolis and Terre Haute.  We set up camp in the campgrounds in the park, and stayed there from Friday night upon our dark-enshrouded arrival until Sunday early afternoon. 

The theme for the weekend was laid out as we gathered around a fire on Friday night.  John Dewyze, our main leader, told us that the Hebrew word for wilderness translates into English as "without words".  He espoused the idea that the wilderness is a place beyond words where we can experience authentic existence.  He connected this idea to what God told Moses at the burning bush--"I AM Who I AM", this idea that God exists beyond words.

So we came into a physical wilderness to ponder being in a spiritual wilderness where we could embrace more authentically our existence, and that of God.  We spent our time there hiking on the trails in the park, which led into deep ravines, along and through streambeds, along the Sugar Creek, and through tall-treed woodlands.  (In fact, the trees in the park are so tall that they create a canopy that constantly keeps the park in shade--hence the name.)

During our times hiking around, we would stop, and our two leaders, John and Kristen, would share experiences of being in spiritual wilderness.  John also shared passages of Scripture, and then invited us to reflect more fully on certain ideas pertaining to the wilderness: God calling us, temptations, and struggles, through the symbols of the traditional four elements: fire, water, earth, and sky.  We were given times after our leaders spoke to wander around in solitude in the scenic beauty of the park's landscape.

We also shared lots of time of fellowship, particularly over meals, especially those over our campfire: potatoes/carrots and s'mores.

At the end of the retreat, John talked about how as we encounter God in the wilderness, He gives us a new identity by giving us a new name, as the two are very connected in the Scriptures.  In that spirit, John and Kristen gave each of us a new name, emblazoned in decorations on a cloth, based on how they viewed who we are.

When I first heard of this retreat, I thought it sounded really neat, and when a date was set, I made a point to block out this weekend on my calendar so I could go.

After I signed up, I had one of those "what on earth am I getting myself into?" feelings.  It dawned on me that I haven't really ever gone camping before, and wondered if I could handle being out in such a setting.  I also wondered about the ever-present reality of having lots of classwork to do, and pondered if it would be better to just stay on campus to do all this work, like a "responsible student".

Yet, on Tuesday, after I finished doing some work, I started thinking about all the things I would have to be getting to over the next couple of weeks or so.  I felt myself getting sucked into a vacuum in which I started thinking more and more about the work I have to do, and I started thinking about it so much I felt horribly overwhelmed.

I got myself out of that, and knew that an opportunity like this retreat would be just the thing I would need at a time like this:  Something to just get away from schoolwork, refocus on what really counts in life, and then go back refreshed to tackling all the work ahead of me.

And being out camping wasn't really all that bad.  I ended up having a small-size tent all to myself, and I was comfortable and warm enough inside of it.  Walking around on the trails provided many scenic vistas, the opportunity to be in a place with simply the sounds of nature, and get some exercise.

Most of all, this retreat gave me spiritual refreshment.  I find myself in struggles from time to time.  And on Saturday night, while we were sharing our thoughts on our spiritual reflections during the day, I noticed that many people talked openly about internal struggles.  At first, it seemed kind of depressing, especially since it didn't seem like people had these struggles outwardly.  But when I thought about it, I realized that it would be worse not to acknowledge these struggles.  They're just a part of life.  What's of the utmost is being able to respond to these struggles in a way that refocuses me toward what really matters in life, especially in how I live out my relationship with God.

Having spent this time in the place beyond words, I have renewed focus in the important matters of life.  As I go back to my common life, and all the schoolwork that fills it, I recognize that the God who is in an existence beyond words pervades my existence, and He is there to empower me to live fully anew in a new identity in life, the Life He grants through the Risen Christ.

Upon my return, I washed myself, my clothes, and my linens, certainly for the purpose of the need for physical cleaning, but furthermore as a symbolic gesture in concordance with my new identity.  And then I went to St. Teresa's for 9 PM Mass to continue my celebration.  Father Kevin told us he had been at a church in Indianapolis earlier in the day, and the priest barely got a quarter of the people wet during the sprinkling rite, so he set out with the full intention to douse us gathered there at St. Teresa's.  And he did just that:  He made such a spectacle of the rite, causing so much giggling, that it almost distracted us from the sacredness of it.  In the Collect (opening prayer), there was language asking God to renew us in youthfulness in this season celebrating Christ's life.  I couldn't help but think of how appropriate the rite and the Collect were liturgically and in light of the retreat.  I was renewed in the spirit of baptism, and in the spirit of new life, feeling a sense of youth in my new identity.

With this, I go forth, knowing I have a lot before me to tackle, yet with excitement for the new possibilities in all this newness.

I rejoice!

Thanks be to God!