Year of Faith: faith celebrated

Our Lady of Lourdes grotto, University of Notre Dame

Although I hesitate to use the word organize, this past week I sorted through and cleared the cobwebs off my desk, which has not see much actual work for many weeks now. 

The few work projects that I’ve managed to complete, however, have been different and quite interesting.

I wrote the August column in the current issue of St.Anthony Messenger, for example, part of their special monthly feature for this Year of Faith.

In this world of 140 characters, the challenge as a writer was to say something personal and meaningful—in no more than 400 words! Our assignment called for each writer to take on a theme inspired by the Holy Father’s letter Porta Fidei, “Doors of Faith.”

My particular topic from the document is this: how the celebration of faith fuels our faith. The idea is inspired by a passage found in paragraph 9 of Porta Fidei that states:  

“To rediscover the content of the faith that is professed, celebrated, lived and prayed,[15]and to reflect on the act of faith, is a task that every believer must make his own, especially in the course of this Year.” 

Here’s the complete paragraph: 

“We want this Year to arouse in every believer the aspiration to profess the faith in fullness and with renewed conviction, with confidence and hope. It will also be a good opportunity to intensify the celebration of the faith in the liturgy, especially in the Eucharist, which is “the summit towards which the activity of the Church is directed; ... and also the source from which all its power flows.”[14] At the same time, we make it our prayer that believers’ witness of life may grow in credibility. To rediscover the content of the faith that is professed, celebrated, lived and prayed,[15]and to reflect on the act of faith, is a task that every believer must make his own, especially in the course of this Year.”

And here’s the short reflection that I wrote, titled “Faith Celebrated”:

As a young Cuban refugee growing up in the neighboring island of Puerto Rico, I was keenly aware of all that made me different. In spite of speaking the same language, my schoolmates teased me for my differences in speech. Like refugee families from other cultures, ours was a multi-generational home shared with three grandparents. Our family spent a considerable amount of our time and energy taking classes and attending events meant to remind us of our native culture, lest we ever forget what made us Cuban—and why we were refugees.   

 It was an unsettling time for all the adults in my life. This meant that I attended five different grade schools and lived in five different homes—one not corresponding with the other.  

 I was a perceptive child, more aware than most of the inner struggles of those suffering around me. In a very real way, I felt my parents’ anguish over the family and friends left in Cuba. I ingested my grandmother’s nighttime tears and loneliness. I experienced my grandparents’ uprootedness and displacement.  

 In the midst of all this inner suffering and external displacement—and perhaps directly because of it—my sense of place, belonging, and peace became deeply rooted in the Catholic Church.  

 Unlike most people’s experience, however, this sense of being claimed and chosen was not attached to one parish—but in a very real way, to the Church universal. Walking into a church. Celebrating the liturgy in unison. Receiving the Eucharist with mis hermanos, my brothers and sisters in the faith. This was, and is, home to me. 

 Paraphrasing Pope Benedict XVI’s declaration, I want this Year of Faith to arouse the desire to profess the faith in fullness and with renewed conviction, with confidence and hope.
  

In truth, there’s no substitute for the basics. Honest, daily prayer. Reclaiming the graces of the Sacraments. Approaching faith and tradition with a willing heart. Reclaiming the liturgy, and especially the Eucharist, as our home—the source from which “all its power flows.” 

 Only if we put the events of our lives—past, present, future—in contact with the Word of God and the Sacraments will those events become signs of God’s presence in and for our lives. 

 Only if we recommit to daily private and public prayer can we “rediscover the content of the faith that is professed, celebrated, lived and prayed.” 

Do we dare live our lives with such certainty?

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Be sure to check out the printed August issue of St. AnthonyMessenger Magazine, where this reflection was first published [www.StAnthonyMessenger.org].

Longing and belonging

Random thoughts that somehow connect in my brain:

Nature and the Eucharist by Farid De La Ossa

as posted here

#1, At daily Mass today our visiting priest reminded us how privileged we are – and not merely because of economic or cultural reasons. Each one of us is privileged, he emphasized, because we are invited to the Eucharist every day, to become one with Jesus, one in Jesus. 

#2, I’ve always had this thing for doctor shows. At the risk of showing how o-l-d I really am, I can claim being a fan of medical shows as far back as Ben Casey, Medical Center, and Marcus Welby! As a college freshman, I even claimed to be pre-med, until those pesky Science courses reminded me that’s not where my gifts lay.

Today, as I read my friend Susan’s perceptive post “Longing for Community” in her blog Creo en Dios! I gained a beautiful insight into one of the reasons that these shows have always appealed to me. Susan quotes from one of her readers as she observes:

“Perhaps my devotion to that show, and, indeed the almost universal popularity of shows with “teams,” says something about a certain longing common to many people these days–the longing to be part of a community where you are loved, cherished, and appreciated for the unique qualities that make you you. A place of joy, fun, laughter, goodness.”

I think Colleen is right… we all have a longing to be part of a “team”, a “longing to be part of a community where [we] are loved, cherished, and appreciated for the unique qualities that make us [who we] are.” For me, part of the value of her comment is helping us to explicitly acknowledge that longing, recognizing it for what it is. 

#3, I may not understand the English expression, but I do know that I was in “seventh heaven” on Sunday as our family filled the pew for 10:15 Mass. In addition to having all four of our “kids” and our oldest grandchild with us, we also had present two of their spouses as well as my parents. Nothing makes me “higher” than our family celebrating Mass together… I am richly blessed.

#4, Our gifted pastor proclaimed, once again, a powerful homily, one that I’m still pondering in my heart. Here’s a part of it:

There is not one of us in this church who has not felt the cruelty of being rejected by people who have praised us, loved us, or used us in some way only to reject us when we are no longer needed for their pleasure, their ambition, their greed, or their need to look good and enjoy the approval of others. Our young people are especially vulnerable to this experience, and they are too often manipulated and controlled, confused and frightened by a fear of rejection. The need to belong, to be accepted, approved, and admired is so strong in us! To this need, this fear, this power, Jesus stands before the fury of this crowd who have just, seconds before, been so bold as to claim him as their own and puff up their own esteem by recognizing his origins among them. Suddenly their fury turns on him, and we know how it will go from here till the end. 

If ever the first spoken words of Luke’s Gospel need to be heard and internalized, it is in the face of rejection. “Do Not Be Afraid!” is said over and over again in Luke’s first chapter. It is the message from an angel. It is the message of courage and hope. It is the message which the Word made flesh now puts into action. Remember it yourself when the values of your faith and the teaching of your church leads you to experience rejection. Fear Not.