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