Humility 101: How to Be the Best at Being the Least

Today, as I led a communion service for the elderly folks at Ballard Nursing Home in Des Plaines, IL, I had the opportunity to proclaim the Gospel to a small crowd of about 20 or so people. As a wave of consolation passed over me, I couldn't help but feel so humbled and comfortable (I don't know how else to put it) at proclaiming the Good News.

Of course, it helps that the Gospel message itself was incredibly humbling for me as well. Today's message came from Matthew chapter 20:17-28, a perfect passage Lent. I'll highlight just a couple of sections. First:

As Jesus was going up to Jerusalem, he took the Twelve disciples aside by themselves, and said to them on the way, "Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death, and hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and scourged and crucified, and he will be raised on the third day.

What a great glance ahead as we journey through this Lent. Christ Himself warns His disciples of His approaching fate, a fate that we will again witness in a few short weeks. I cannot imagine how difficult it must have been for Jesus to continue His ministry with the knowledge of His destiny written before Him as it was. The pain that He must have had even leading up to the Passion had to be incredible, and yet Jesus never complained or asked anyone to take the burden away. Instead, as He prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane, He pleaded God to let the cup pass Him by, only if it was His Father's will. As I attempt to glean as much spiritual fruit out of this Lent as possible, I can't help but see how utterly I fail at accepting my own cross. Not only do I complain every step of the way, but sometimes I just plain refuse. How frequently I forget that Christ walks behind me, helping me through the burdens of this life--and how quickly I forget to trust.

The Apostles then proceed to learn a great lesson, prompted by the mother of James and John asking Jesus if her sons can sit on His right and left in heaven. (You get an A for effort, mom.) Jesus proceeds to tell them:

Whoever wishes to be great among you shall be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you shall be your slave. Just so, the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.

I just love this. It perfectly embodies what I feel is my calling to the priesthood, and I could honestly spend my entire life just learning how to adequately live these two sentences from the Gospel. And again, perfectly Lenten. How often do I seek to be the most respected, the most loved, the most acclaimed! This reminds me of the verse in John 12:43: "For they preferred human praise to the glory of God." Life is not about seeking the first place among the men that will someday too pass from this earth--rather, we must seek to humble ourselves, finding greatness in tiny acts of service for our brothers and sisters. If we did the smallest things with great love, there would be no end to the amount of good that this world would see! (I feel like I just plagiarized Mother Teresa...if that be the case, forgive me, Mama T!) Christ could have been the greatest ruler that this world had ever seen, but instead chose to be born in a barn. He proceeded to (literally) spend His life in radical service to His fellow man, ultimately winning a reward for us that surpasses the greatness of anything on this earth. How I long for a part in that glory!

Dear Lord, grant me the grace of charity and humility.

O Jesus! meek and humble of heart, Hear me.

From the desire of being esteemed, Deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being loved, Deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being extolled, Deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being honored, Deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being praised, Deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being preferred to others, Deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being consulted, Deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being approved, Deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being humiliated, Deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being despised, Deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of suffering rebukes, Deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being calumniated, Deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being forgotten, Deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being ridiculed, Deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being wronged, Deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being suspected, Deliver me, Jesus.

That others may be loved more than I, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be esteemed more than I, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That, in the opinion of the world, others may increase and I may decrease, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be chosen and I set aside, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be praised and I unnoticed, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be preferred to me in everything, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

Amen.

--The Litany of Humility, Rafael Cardinal Merry del Val

Life in the Fast Lane

Whew. I think I may have underestimated how busy life gets. Really, it's not a complaint, just more of an observation. I am actually very at peace with where I am in life, which makes the fact that life is flying past me even more frustrating at times. Sometimes, all I want is to be able to slow down and take in the scenes. I want to kick back and enjoy all of the projects and tasks that I'm engaged in.

But that's not how life is--at least not mine. Too often, I feel like I just stepped out into a lane of interstate traffic. But I've recently come to some very important realizations.

First of all, life isn't going to slow down. As much as I'd like it to, it won't. So my options are either: 1) go into early retirement or 2) live with it. And I don't mean "deal with it." I mean live with it, as in find the joy and unexpected surprises that come with a fast-paced life. Life is more enjoyable when you're along for the ride, not pouting in the backseat.

Secondly, focusing on the negative will just not cut it. No one ever brought anyone else to realize their salvation in Christ by whining at them. My life will not become a banner that says: Live a life in Christ and you'll end up just as frumpy as I am!!

Third, it helps to reorient yourself to see Christ as the source and culmination of life itself. It becomes so easy to get lost in yourself, or lost in the moment, but soon enough, you realize that years have passed and it's all been for nothing. But having a specific goal in mind at all times makes the journey so much more enjoyable!

Which leads me to my fourth point: life is about service. When we concentrate on how busy we are, we lose sight of others. Nothing made me realize this more than a little time spent at the Mission of Our Lady of the Angels with the Franciscans of the Eucharist. They have such a clear focus in their lives. Arguably much busier than I am, they still manage to make it all about living the Gospel and serving others. When we take the focus off ourselves and give more selflessly to others, the details all work themselves out in the end. We just need to trust. God will take care of the rest.

A Fast Pace or a Steady Race?

One month into my seminary studies, I've found one particular issue weighing on my conscience more heavily than any other: Am I really doing all that I can for God?

You see, when you factor in the demands on a seminarian's time (communal prayer and Mass, class, specific times for meals, formation, spiritual direction, service in the community) and then add in things like exercise, personal prayer time, reading, homework, etc., the amount of time in the day just doesn't seem like it's enough. I know that time-management issues aren't exclusive to those seeking to marry the Church; as a matter of fact, I had quite the busy routine in my college career as well and I've seen many others struggle with the same issues. However, in an honest attempt to make myself the best version of 'me' possible, I'm trying to make the right decisions regarding what I am doing with my every moment. As I evaluate the last month here at Mundelein, I can't help but ask myself: Am I falling into the routines that are truly going to conform me to Christ? Am I really too busy or tired to [insert activity], or am I just making excuses for myself?

It seems almost impossible to do it all, but am I doing enough?

More often than not, I go to bed wishing I could have gotten around to just one or two more things in my day; I'd stay up to accomplish them, but losing sleep only makes the following day's work suffer. The heart of the issue is whether to bear these 'shortcomings' with patience or to drive myself to further discipline. The line must surely be walked with caution; to push myself too hard would end just as poorly as to continue my life making excuses to God.

In the end, the questions go unanswered. I only thank God for the wonderful support system that I have found here in the past month. The staff is excellent (I wish I could even begin to describe how truly amazing the faculty here is both intellectually and personally) and the community with my brother seminarians is incredible.

God, grant me the grace to know your will in my daily activities.

St. Charles Borromeo, patron saint of seminarians, pray for us!

A Little Time in Silence

After moving to Mundelein on August 20th, new seminarians began a nearly week-long orientation process. After having been sufficiently oriented, we were blessed with the opportunity to participate in a silent retreat. And yes, despite the fact that I talk more than is considered healthy for one individual, I did still consider this a blessing. Honestly, how many times does one get to put aside all the distractions of life (read: cell phone, facebook/email, television, etc.) to concentrate solely on spending time in prayer and building up a relationship with God?

I took the week very seriously. There was no collection of cell phones or turning off of the internet; I suppose if one wanted to 'cheat,' it would have been very easy to do so. But I was determined to give all of what I could to the silence--to let God speak to me in whatever ways He had planned.

And speak to me He did. I can't say that I saw any visions or was given over to mysticism, but I did feel a sincere sense of peace throughout the entirety of that week. Fr. Andrew Ricci, rector of the Cathedral in Superior, WI, was the retreat master, and his conferences were quite an experience. Thought-provoking and challenging at times, Fr. Andrew spoke exactly the words that I needed to hear at the beginning of this journey.

Also, having ample time to myself, I picked up a book that I've been very eager to finish (ever since I started it almost a year ago; what can I say? I get distracted easily!). Diary: Divine Mercy in My Soul by St. Maria Faustina Kowalksa was stunning to me. The beauty of this saint's experiences with Christ and her profound acceptance of God's will in her life spoke volumes to me in the silence of this week. The holiness that radiated from those pages made me truly want to seek the same depth of relationship with God for myself. God, grant me this grace!

To close, I'd like to share with you a piece of prose written by my newest saintly friend and intercessor, St. Faustina. In it, she communicates with simple words the True Presence and her soul's response to It. May we all take her words to heart and seek the same thing in our lives.

My heart is drawn there where my God is hidden,

Where He dwells with us day and night,

Clothed in the White Host;

He governs the whole world, He communes with souls.

My heart is drawn there where my God is hiding,

Where His love is immolated.

But my heart senses that the living water is here;

It is my living God, though a veil hides Him.

The Love of a Mother

This morning I was struck by the example of St. Monica, whose feast we celebrate today. She was the mother of St. Augustine and an incredible intercessor on his behalf. The simple and yet profound witness of the saints continues to bowl me over from time to time, and St. Monica is no exception. As I was reading an excerpt from the Confessions of St. Augustine about his mother, I couldn't help but be amazed by the beauty of her statements to her son.

We desired with all our hearts to drink from the streams of your heavenly fountain, the fountain of life. That was the substance of our talk, though not the exact words. But you know, O Lord, that in the course of our conversation that day, the world and its pleasures lost all their attraction for us. My mother said: "Son, as far as I am concerned, nothing in this life now gives me any pleasure. I do not know why I am still here, since I have no further hopes in this world. I did have one reason for wanting to live a little longer: to see you become a Catholic Christian before I died. God has lavished his gifts on me in that respect, for I know that you have even renounced earthly happiness to be his servant. So what am I doing here?"

I'll tell you a couple of reasons why her testimony hit me. First, it speaks to me of how greatly a mother loves her son. I wonder sometimes whether that same love still manifests itself in our selfish culture--whether a mother's primary concern for her son is still the salvation of his soul, as it should be. I am also impressed by St. Monica's unceasing prayer for the sake of her son's conversion. St. Monica so obviously believed in the ability of God to convert her son and she would not stop pleading his cause until God answered. Our world seems to have lost its confidence in God's ability to actually effect something in this world. We pray for peace in the world, but do we actually believe that God can provide that? We pray for the healing of sick members of our family, but do we actually believe that God can provide those miracles? We pray for the conversion of the sinner, but do we actually believe that God can intervene in our lives and save our souls? Do we still believe that God can touch this world? Certainly, God will not grant it if we do not actually believe. The doubt of this world scares me sometimes, but St. Monica's witness provides a beautiful example of faith outshining that doubt.

St. Monica, pray for the conversion of this world. Amen.

My Spiritual Testament of Totus Tuus

At the end of our Totus Tuus experience this summer, we were asked to write a spiritual testament. Not knowing exactly what to write, I sat outside the Chiara Center on a beautiful summer day and petitioned God for His help. Inspired or not, this is what I wrote:

Serviam

God has led me to the doors of the Church, not looking inward, but outward to the world He has called me to serve. Through His grace which sustains, He has given me the faith by which to know His love and mercy.

So then, I am called to respond, to lay down my earthly life to serve the kingdom which my flesh could neither merit nor deserve, all for the sake of spreading Christ's Gospel.

"Yet I consider life of no importance to me, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus, to bear witness to the gospel of God's grace." (Acts 20:24)

I have been called to withdraw my desire of all earthly things, and yet in His kindness, His earthly creation constantly proclaims the glory due His name.

As I take up my cross and die to self, I know that I shall never be alone in doing so. With so great a crowd of witnesses as have gone before me, I am filled with gratitude for the example that has been and continues to be--the example of the Church. God, so intimately knowing His creation, has inspired in me a great love of humanity, and so blessed me with the gift of the Church, who in her majesty can never displace herself from the love of God. In fact, even before my fleshly existence, He knew of my need for His Incarnation--for His joining in my humanity--and so for my salvation, He sacrificed His only Son.

Thanks be to God for all that He has given me, none of which I deserve, but all freely given, for me, His chosen one.

A Summation of the Last Half of Totus Tuus

Admittedly, I've failed at keeping up the weekly Totus Tuus correspondence. Hopefully that means I was investing the extra effort into the youth of the Diocese of Springfield in Illinois...

The last half of the summer was incredibly busy and very intense. We went from St. Peter's in Quincy, which had the largest numbers of any parish this summer (85 day and 55 night!), to St. Francis Xavier in Jerseyville (not a small parish itself), to St. Agnes in Springfield (also pretty substantial), finally finishing up in Auburn at Holy Cross Parish.

Without going into much detail, I found that the last half of the summer was just as epic and grace-filled as the first (if not more). My teammates were all spectacular and I couldn't have asked for a better group of fellow missionaries. We worked hard this summer and hopefully contributed a little to the salvation of souls. I think I'll let prayer and the Holy Spirit take it from here...

Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception, Patroness of the Diocese of Springfield in Illinois, Pray for us!!