When I applied for the Order of Preachers I had to write an autobiography, primarily about my spiritual history. On the front page there were two quotes. The first one read, "My sacrifice, O God, is a contrite spirit; a contrite, humbled heart, O God, you will not scorn."
On Saturday, June 2, I had my admissions boards. Three fully professed Dominicans (full members of the Order that have taken solemn vows) interviewed me. Fr. John Restrepo asked me why I had chosen this quote. I gave a long and wild answer but essentially said:
I am broken, this is all I have to give God. This gift to God he receives and responds to me with abundant grace. He not only thinks my brokenness is enough, He Himself see the gift of my brokenness as abundance.
Now, just to get to the time where I believe this with my whole heart. Oh yeah, and I was accepted into the Order. So that's just awesome.
Shalom,
Joe
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Hairless and Ugly
Clumps and Curls
My feet curled up in clumps and curls
of my previous life
As it drains and swirls, my tresses, my curls
I quit
Who is is that I am? Maybe you can tell
Am I being conformed, transformed, has my
Personhood been stormed, what about my will
was I defaced
and replaced, by someone fatter
less great
who can’t relate
Or is it just hair
My immaturity is running free
Not even strangers will let me be
I am at once a spectacle, who does not want to be seen
just for looking
normal
What was hiding, in the clumps and curls
that litter my bathroom floor
Can I dance and twirl, like I used to
Or am I just going to be ignored
Was it an external reflection of my interior design
Maybe it was just protection,
did I ever actually shine
Or was it the glitz and rings that once adorned?
Is my shackled personhood tied in tresses
related to the stresses, in the clumps and curls
that litter
my bathroom floor
Who is that stranger in the mirror?
What does he want? Who is he for?
Just hair, my ass
Clumps and curls of matted personhood
litter my floor,
Like Job of Old, I think He wants more
but I hope this moment of self-defeating denial,
is fleeting, and doesn’t last
for awhile
Because that person in the mirror isn’t interesting or unique anymore
that person is clumps and curls
that litter
my bathroom floor
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Lenten Promises & Mother Teresa
This lent I am joining the Angelic Warfare Confraternity which sounds a bit crazy. I have already started though. More than anything it is a prayer for chastity and for purity. I struggle with chastity and it struggles with me - I'm sure. I thought that by the time I turned 28, it would be over, but alas, I am still a man, with man-thoughts. So for lent I am going to pray with the Confraternity every morning and pray with Scripture every night and I hope and pray that the graces I receive help me in my battle toward purity. And by Scripture I mean that I will be reading the Gospel of John and the Tao te Ching.
Oh yeah, and Momma T, why is she up there in the corner? I have found that I have let down Jesus so often with my choices that sometimes it's easy to just to say, well Jesus - I'm going to sin again. I recently have been reading a lot about Momma T and have asked her to pray for me all of this lent. Everyday at the end of praying with the Confraternity I am asking Blessed Mother Teresa to hold me in her prayers, especially when it comes to my chastity and purity. Blessed Mother Teresa, pray for us!
Shalom,
Joe
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Deferment & Finding Joy
I like to think that I am a silver-lining kind of guy. That I always look for joy in the dark places, hence the clever title of this blog, wallowing in joy. Occasionally this is put to the test - and in a real way, at least as it relates to my vocation, this just happened to me. On Monday, February 13th, I found out that I am being deferred for a year. This means that I can still go to admissions boards in June, but that I will have to wait a year after that to enter. Why? Debt, and I was told it felt rushed, and ... resolutely I agree.
So - I'm looking at August 2013, which seems really far away. So that silver lining, where is it? I am coming to terms with joy of patience and the rich fruits I have received in my current job. I work as a campus minister and retreat director. My job is so fulfilling and life giving, it's a bit ridiculous. I work with the cream of the crop at a Jesuit school and they model prayer and discernment better that I may ever. If the students I minister to remind me to pray and bring me joy, why not continue this kind of work for another year? What would be lost? Staying in contact with ministry is going to be an important part of my life while discerning and always, especially as a Dominican.
So here we are, on Ash Wednesday, and my lenten goals are pretty simple ... come closer to God through contemplative prayer. That's it. I think if that goes right, the rest will fall in place. And, that year won't seem so freakin' long.
Shalom,
Joe
So - I'm looking at August 2013, which seems really far away. So that silver lining, where is it? I am coming to terms with joy of patience and the rich fruits I have received in my current job. I work as a campus minister and retreat director. My job is so fulfilling and life giving, it's a bit ridiculous. I work with the cream of the crop at a Jesuit school and they model prayer and discernment better that I may ever. If the students I minister to remind me to pray and bring me joy, why not continue this kind of work for another year? What would be lost? Staying in contact with ministry is going to be an important part of my life while discerning and always, especially as a Dominican.
So here we are, on Ash Wednesday, and my lenten goals are pretty simple ... come closer to God through contemplative prayer. That's it. I think if that goes right, the rest will fall in place. And, that year won't seem so freakin' long.
Shalom,
Joe
Monday, February 13, 2012
Retreat and Roadblocks.
In the past two months I have gone on two retreats. Well, scratch that, I have went on one retreat and ran another. The first retreat was a silent Ignatian retreat. And I must say, I love Ignatian (Jesuit) spirituality. The Spiritual Exercises are the cornerstone of the Jesuits. The retreat I went on reminded me, and sort of intensely so, that God wants me to shut up. I actually felt God saying, "Shhhhh!!!!!" (exclamation points included). God is calling me to be a contemplative, or at least to try contemplation.
The second retreat I was on was the annual Emmaus retreat. Every time I work with students in such an intimate setting I am reminded of my call, my call to ministry. I am still not sure (and I don't know what that sure-ness is) that I am supposed to be a Dominican but I know that I want to try. The Emmaus retreat is a contemplative retreat, not a silent retreat. The students I work with basically pray the weekend away. They come with some intention on their heart and they share it. I gave a reflection on table fellowship. And I basically said:
With my affinity for cooking, and more importantly my love of loving people I felt ready and good about giving a reflection, or maybe more well said, I felt ready to preach. I talked about how we are to invite everyone to the table of the Lord, and then we are to serve them. I shared a personal experience of my failure, a time when I found someone so ugly that I avoided them. Afterwards my boss told me it was one of the best reflections on the Eucharist she'd ever heard, and I think she was being serious! So Yay for that, and yay for being a retreat director. I love my job, seriously, folks, I do.
So the roadblocks, I have two that are pretty big, at least to me. The first is that I have a spotty past, at best and it makes me a bit nervous. The second, I need to pay off about $50,000 dollars in student loan debt this summer. So here's to God being bigger than my problems. Cheers.
Shalom,
Joe
The second retreat I was on was the annual Emmaus retreat. Every time I work with students in such an intimate setting I am reminded of my call, my call to ministry. I am still not sure (and I don't know what that sure-ness is) that I am supposed to be a Dominican but I know that I want to try. The Emmaus retreat is a contemplative retreat, not a silent retreat. The students I work with basically pray the weekend away. They come with some intention on their heart and they share it. I gave a reflection on table fellowship. And I basically said:
So the roadblocks, I have two that are pretty big, at least to me. The first is that I have a spotty past, at best and it makes me a bit nervous. The second, I need to pay off about $50,000 dollars in student loan debt this summer. So here's to God being bigger than my problems. Cheers.
Shalom,
Joe
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
The Laborers are Few
One of the struggles in discernment, leastwise for me, is coming to terms with the incredible amount of paperwork that must be done in order to enter a religious order. Coming into this, I thought that I would say, "Yes, I want to be a Dominican Priest," and they would say, "You're in." And there would be a liturgy of sorts and off to study I would go.
Instead when offered an application I realized that I would have to dig up all sorts of information about myself, write an autobiography, undergo multiple physical and psychological exams, and ask for a number of letters of reference. I don't know why I thought it would be so easy, but, well... it ain't. Yet, I still want this for my life. I still feel pushed, or maybe pulled, to continue down the path of becoming a full-fledged O.P. member.
So, back to work I go.
Shalom,
Joe
Instead when offered an application I realized that I would have to dig up all sorts of information about myself, write an autobiography, undergo multiple physical and psychological exams, and ask for a number of letters of reference. I don't know why I thought it would be so easy, but, well... it ain't. Yet, I still want this for my life. I still feel pushed, or maybe pulled, to continue down the path of becoming a full-fledged O.P. member.
So, back to work I go.
Shalom,
Joe
Thursday, January 19, 2012
I Hate Religion, but Love Jesus ... huh?
So this past week this video came out, and as most the critiques were of the Catholic Church, I felt the need to respond. Hopefully I did so in loving dialogue, thought I will admit it was primarily a catechetical response to my students who so struggle with the Church. And they struggle for good reason as do I. But as a minister of the Church I felt obliged to respond, thoughtfully and with hope and honesty. I know not everyone will agree with me. (That's why I disabled comments, and YouTube commenters have a way of saying particularly nasty and cruel things). But, I hope that my response at least speaks to my students here about the joy and hope of Mass and why the Church comes together to "devote themselves to the teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer," (Acts 2: 42). Anyway, God Bless and here is my video:
Shalom,
Joe
Monday, January 16, 2012
The Red Sea of Silence
This past weekend I went on a silent directed retreat, and it was scary. Silence is not my bag, baby. But we need solitude, we crave solitude, and we only begin to discover the joyful company of self in that solitude. In this discernment process I have been afraid, deeply, intensely, to-my-very-core afraid of making decisions. While I will continue to "unpack" this retreat and come to find what it means I have discovered one thing, and that is, like Moses (whom I love) I am called to step into the sea and allow the fear of the unknown to become the joy of surprise. So, one of the things I encountered this weekend was a poem and it really spoke to me. I prayed with this poem all weekend and now it hangs on my bulletin board:
When Summoned to Proceed
Standing on the brink of a Red Sea
(yet to be once more miracled apart)
how the flesh shrinks, how the breath's drawn in.
For why leave? Why step out from
this solid shore, this inexorable halt
where all that befalls (however cruel) at least will come
in a known form, from a recognized source?
The waters stretch, drown-deep, ahead.
Nothing can be seen across the heave of them.
No Promised Land:
no glades, no groves
no vineyards sweet
with their ripening fruits, or fields gleaming
from afar with corn...
One stares out, breath caught in throat.
"Nothing is there! Nothing at all!"
Only when the trembling foot is set
in the very break of surf on shore
do the waves rear back, like jasper walls!
And a whole great enterprise comes clear.
Standing on the brink of a Red Sea
(yet to be once more miracled apart)
how the flesh shrinks, how the breath's drawn in.
For why leave? Why step out from
this solid shore, this inexorable halt
where all that befalls (however cruel) at least will come
in a known form, from a recognized source?
The waters stretch, drown-deep, ahead.
Nothing can be seen across the heave of them.
No Promised Land:
no glades, no groves
no vineyards sweet
with their ripening fruits, or fields gleaming
from afar with corn...
One stares out, breath caught in throat.
"Nothing is there! Nothing at all!"
Only when the trembling foot is set
in the very break of surf on shore
do the waves rear back, like jasper walls!
And a whole great enterprise comes clear.
Shalom,
Until next time,
Joe
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Why would God pick a @#$&-up like me?
When I take a minute to reflect on the person that I am, I can get caught up. I am a sinner. I cuss, I drink, I yell. I speak without thinking. I treat my family and friends poorly. I manipulate people into doing what I want. I struggle with all sorts of vices. I am so proud that I write in veiled language so I don't have to tell people what I'm like underneath it all. But, ... on the other hand, I am a lover. I listen, I break bread, I make time for people that I love. I think about what I'm doing and reflect on my life. I put others before myself. I am a fierce and loyal friend. I pray and hope for humility and I try to listen to the voice of God in my life. So, I'm a mixed bag - I'm broken and saved, I'm a sinner and loved. I'm like that Alanis Morisette Song, One Hand in My Pocket, (I'm high but I'm grounded, I'm sane but I'm overwhelmed). Don't believe me click here.
See, I'm just like that, I'm a mixed bag, baby. So when I say "Why would God pick a @##&-up like me?" I guess the better question, or more honest question is, "Why would God pick an occasional @$%-up like me?" And I have a really solid answer, ... I think. And it's three parts: First, God calls us all back to him. We are made in the image of God, male and female. (Genesis 1:26-27) So - we are all called back to the source, back to our Truest image. Second, God loves losers. I'm serious and I'll show you, and the third part, God not only loves losers but qualifies them and helps them along. So I'm a bit of loser, who has had a lot of help (read: qualifying), so I'm on the right track. Let's expand on this.
And this my friends, is one of many examples. David is called to be the second king of the united kingdom of Israel. First, God calls him over his seven more handsome, older, and more adept brothers. David is out tending sheep and his Dad doesn't think it could possibly be David. And what does David do with that power? Once, he sees a woman, Bathsheba, taking a bath and he decides she's pretty, so he sleeps with her and has her husband killed so that he can make her one of his many wives, (2 Samuel 11). Yet, God ever-faithful, a covenant-keeper, sticks with David through this. So David was a loser who was called to power, corrupted that power and took advantage of and manipulated women, and God stuck with his calling. GOD QUALIFIES THE CALLED. And He sticks with that call, with that covenant.
So, yeah, I'm kind of a loser. I sin, I'm broken, I'm the under-dog. And it is in that very brokenness that I can give my life back to God, and know that it is enough. "My sacrifice God, is a broken spirit. A contrite and humbled heart you will not scorn." (Psalm 51: 19). My brokenness, is my best sacrifice. I am a loser, and so happy about it. So maybe that's why God would pick a loser like me. Maybe.
Shalom,
Joe
See, I'm just like that, I'm a mixed bag, baby. So when I say "Why would God pick a @##&-up like me?" I guess the better question, or more honest question is, "Why would God pick an occasional @$%-up like me?" And I have a really solid answer, ... I think. And it's three parts: First, God calls us all back to him. We are made in the image of God, male and female. (Genesis 1:26-27) So - we are all called back to the source, back to our Truest image. Second, God loves losers. I'm serious and I'll show you, and the third part, God not only loves losers but qualifies them and helps them along. So I'm a bit of loser, who has had a lot of help (read: qualifying), so I'm on the right track. Let's expand on this.
So, let's start this little journey. Anybody remember a guy named Moses? I'm sure that you do, he's kind of a big deal in that whole Old Testament thing. Moses so wanted to get away from his vocation and his past that he ran away. This was after he killed someone. So he's a murderer and a run-away and he turned his back on his people. Then God steps in and says, "Perfect, I pick him to lead my people to freedom." No one ever said God had good taste. Anyway, Moses then responds, "Lord, I am a terrible speaker and don't want to do this." And God reminds him, "You're in charge, here's your brother Aaron, get out there and follow my will. ERGH!" (paraphrasing, of course) Don't believe me? It's all in Exodus, Chapter 4:10-17. So here's this guy, that's not qualified, he's basically a loser (he's at least a murderer and a run-away with low self-esteem) and God calls him to lead His people out of bondage. So God calls Moses, who is a bit of loser, gives him some help and sends him on his way.
And this my friends, is one of many examples. David is called to be the second king of the united kingdom of Israel. First, God calls him over his seven more handsome, older, and more adept brothers. David is out tending sheep and his Dad doesn't think it could possibly be David. And what does David do with that power? Once, he sees a woman, Bathsheba, taking a bath and he decides she's pretty, so he sleeps with her and has her husband killed so that he can make her one of his many wives, (2 Samuel 11). Yet, God ever-faithful, a covenant-keeper, sticks with David through this. So David was a loser who was called to power, corrupted that power and took advantage of and manipulated women, and God stuck with his calling. GOD QUALIFIES THE CALLED. And He sticks with that call, with that covenant.
So, yeah, I'm kind of a loser. I sin, I'm broken, I'm the under-dog. And it is in that very brokenness that I can give my life back to God, and know that it is enough. "My sacrifice God, is a broken spirit. A contrite and humbled heart you will not scorn." (Psalm 51: 19). My brokenness, is my best sacrifice. I am a loser, and so happy about it. So maybe that's why God would pick a loser like me. Maybe.
Shalom,
Joe
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Answered Prayers
"Happy is the soul that knows how to find Jesus in the Eucharist, and the Eucharist in all things."
~St. Peter Julian Eymard
So of the many weird things that I do, and there are plenty, one I like and will share is that I often pray and think in rhyme. I told you it's weird. (I also like to write things into bananas, the message doesn't show up 'til the next day.) So this is that, not a message in a banana, but a rhyme. It's me attempting to sort out some of my thoughts on ecclesiology. So I call this "poem," if a rough random grouping of my words can be called such a thing:
Ecclesiology in Rhyme
So I guess that my thought is, Church is us people, working together (THE MYSTICAL BODY OF CHRIST Y'ALL) to realize and participate in the Kingdom. At least that's what I think, I try to always entertain the idea that I could be wrong.
Shalom,
Joe
Friday, January 6, 2012
Prayer and Silence
In the Dominican Tradition there is an understanding that we are contemplatives. We are pray-ers who will wait patiently to listen to our God. This is no easy challenge. Finding time for silence in my daily life can be a struggle, but when I do and when I am faithful to this practice, God speaks to me. God shares his life with me and his plan for me. However vague and ambivalent my feelings might be after prayer, it is not only a valuable tool, but a necessary one in the Christian and Religious life.
Prayer for me has become an understanding that any time my heart moves towards God, and anytime I am aware enough to know God's heart is moving towards me that I am praying. And this can happen in the car, at the grocery store, or even (dun dun dun, dramatic pause) in Church. A couple years ago I was driving back from a camping trip and I saw a giant billboard that said "JESUS" and nothing else. Even a few years previous (and sometimes still) I look at these billboards with cynicism. But this time when I looked at the board I thought to myself, "I love Jesus." It was a casual thought, but in reflection I realized that my life had moved significantly towards prayer. That being open to my love for God and God's love for me brought me a sense of peace and a sense of contentment. Prayer was becoming a two-way thing. For so much of my life, prayer had felt like I was a crazy man on a one-way radio wondering if God ever had time to listen in. Now I knew God had not only listened, but that he was speaking back, even through something as silly as a billboard. "I love Jesus," I said, "And I love you," said Jesus. It was a wonderful moment.
In the Dominican life contemplation does not belong just to the friar praying. Sure, his prayer is private and what God reveals to him is his to reveal. Yet, St. Thomas Aquinas, a wonderful Dominican, pushes us further when he writes, "contemplare et contemplata allis tradere," we are to contemplate and share what we contemplated. Discernment even of personal prayer life should be done within the context of community. Our prayer then, is not just for us, it is our responsibility to one another. (Sometimes I begin writing as though I'm already a Dominican, hee hee) And to share that prayer, that contemplation brings us to a sense of service, of preaching with our very lives. Preaching and contemplation lie within one another, they rest in each other. Another wonderful Dominican, who I am going to quote at length, adds to Thomas' understanding of contemplation:
"St. Thomas says that active life is better than the contemplative, in so far as in action one pours out for love that which one has gained in contemplation. It is actually the same thing, for we take only from the same ground of contemplation and make it fruitful in works, and thus the object of contemplation is achieved. Thus too, in this activity, we remain in a state of contemplation in God. The one rests in the other and perfects the other. For God's purpose in the union of contemplation is fruitfulness in works: for in contemplation you serve yourself alone, but in works of charity you serve the many," (Sermon 3, Walshe Translation).
So I guess, I need to go pray. And share that with the world. This should be my life-long goal, no matter what I do, whether or not the Order accepts me.
Shalom,
Joe
Prayer for me has become an understanding that any time my heart moves towards God, and anytime I am aware enough to know God's heart is moving towards me that I am praying. And this can happen in the car, at the grocery store, or even (dun dun dun, dramatic pause) in Church. A couple years ago I was driving back from a camping trip and I saw a giant billboard that said "JESUS" and nothing else. Even a few years previous (and sometimes still) I look at these billboards with cynicism. But this time when I looked at the board I thought to myself, "I love Jesus." It was a casual thought, but in reflection I realized that my life had moved significantly towards prayer. That being open to my love for God and God's love for me brought me a sense of peace and a sense of contentment. Prayer was becoming a two-way thing. For so much of my life, prayer had felt like I was a crazy man on a one-way radio wondering if God ever had time to listen in. Now I knew God had not only listened, but that he was speaking back, even through something as silly as a billboard. "I love Jesus," I said, "And I love you," said Jesus. It was a wonderful moment.
In the Dominican life contemplation does not belong just to the friar praying. Sure, his prayer is private and what God reveals to him is his to reveal. Yet, St. Thomas Aquinas, a wonderful Dominican, pushes us further when he writes, "contemplare et contemplata allis tradere," we are to contemplate and share what we contemplated. Discernment even of personal prayer life should be done within the context of community. Our prayer then, is not just for us, it is our responsibility to one another. (Sometimes I begin writing as though I'm already a Dominican, hee hee) And to share that prayer, that contemplation brings us to a sense of service, of preaching with our very lives. Preaching and contemplation lie within one another, they rest in each other. Another wonderful Dominican, who I am going to quote at length, adds to Thomas' understanding of contemplation:
 |
| Meister Eckhart |
"St. Thomas says that active life is better than the contemplative, in so far as in action one pours out for love that which one has gained in contemplation. It is actually the same thing, for we take only from the same ground of contemplation and make it fruitful in works, and thus the object of contemplation is achieved. Thus too, in this activity, we remain in a state of contemplation in God. The one rests in the other and perfects the other. For God's purpose in the union of contemplation is fruitfulness in works: for in contemplation you serve yourself alone, but in works of charity you serve the many," (Sermon 3, Walshe Translation).
So I guess, I need to go pray. And share that with the world. This should be my life-long goal, no matter what I do, whether or not the Order accepts me.
Shalom,
Joe
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Is God Enough of a Reason? or I'm Chubby
So of the many vocation struggles I have, one is my weight. I am not super-morbidly obese or anything, but I'm a bit heavy and could stand to lose some poundage. At least, this is what my vocation director says - and I know that he is right. I could be a bit more light-footed. (Certainly I am light-hearted enough, damn it.)
So, my question is, is God enough of a reason for me to lose weight? I have actually struggled with this more than I probably should have. One thing that has became clear for me is our universal call to holiness. (Yeah Vatican II!!) We are called to holiness no matter what state of life we are in. That holiness, that flighty temptress, is one of the hardest things to pursue that I can think of. And part of that is because holiness is all consuming. A few years ago I put together a retreat called, "In search of holiness," where we tried to come to some sort of grip with what holiness is or could be. We focused on the verse, "Then He said, "Do not come near here; remove your sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground," (Exodus 3:5). We talked about humility, fear of the Lord, and grace - and honestly when I reflect on that retreat I still couldn't tell you exactly what holiness is. And it was my freakin' retreat. Ha. What I'm getting at though, is even back then when I was trying to put the idea of vocation aside I still knew that I was called to holiness, even though I often fail. And it is with this heart that I pursue the idea of vocation now. I shouldn't be trying to get holy because I want to be a priest. I should be yearning for holiness because I hear the echo of my baptism. I should yearn for holiness because I desperately love God. I should yearn for holiness because I know it will bring me closer to my beloved. So why the hell wouldn't I try to be holy.
 |
| Gratuitous Picture of St. Martin De Porres The Patron of the Southern Province |
So back to the chubby thing - I struggle with weight loss because I for a long time I have thought that I had to do it for myself. It had to be a somewhat selfish endeavor, "You have to do it for yourself, you have to do it because you love yourself." There is some truth in this, you do need to love yourself. But is my call to holiness, my love of God (of other) enough? Can it be a motivating factor for me to pursue a healthier and holier life. YES, I say! God is enough of a reason. Letting God be my motivation, instead of myself, may actually be better. As the Jesuits say, "Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam." So my answer is a resounding and resonant yes. I can lose weight for Jesus, it's part of my universal call to holiness. So let the good times and the significant amount of fiber roll ... or whatever.
Shalom,
Joe
Help me make this song True, O God.
"When Holy Water was a rare at best,
it barely wet my fingertips.
But now I have to hold my breath,
Like I'm swimming in a sea of it."
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
The "Dread"ed Question
I have cooler hair than you. I have cooler hair than most people. My hair gets me noticed by strangers, and is a huge benefit when working with college-age students. I don't know how many students have approached me and talked to me because of my hair only to later "find out" that I am a campus minister. And so I draw them in, in our ministry we refer to these students as the non-usual suspects, and as a freak/geek/weirdo I can easily draw people who are of a similar nature. This is why cutting my hair is such a big freaking deal. It's why I don't really know what to do about cutting my hair. I DON'T WANT TO CUT MY HAIR! Because it's awesome, because it gets me attention, because it allows me to forge relationships faster with weirder people, because occasionally black women come up to me and say, "Baby, I love your hair." And so this is one of my many struggles, and maybe to you it's not a big one. "It's just hair," people say, but it's my hair and I've had dreadlocks for almost 8 years. I wasn't planning on keeping it forever, but to enter the Order, they want me to cut it. The Dominicans want me to cut my hair before I enter the order, and I guess ... I get it. And I am willing. I just think that it's going to be a terrible, awful, no-good experience. And I think that I am going to cry because of it.
The Important Part of the Story of Samson:
"Then she said to him, “How can you say, ‘I love you,’ when you won’t confide in me? This is the third time you have made a fool of me and haven’t told me the secret of your great strength.” With such nagging she prodded him day after day until he was sick to death of it.
So he told her everything. “No razor has ever been used on my head,” he said, “because I have been a Nazirite dedicated to God from my mother’s womb. If my head were shaved, my strength would leave me, and I would become as weak as any other man.”
When Delilah saw that he had told her everything, she sent word to the rulers of the Philistines, “Come back once more; he has told me everything.” So the rulers of the Philistines returned with the silver in their hands. After putting him to sleep on her lap, she called for someone to shave off the seven braids of his hair, and so began to subdue him. And his strength left him.
Then she called, “Samson, the Philistines are upon you!”
He awoke from his sleep and thought, “I’ll go out as before and shake myself free.” But he did not know that the LORD had left him." (Judges 16:15-20)
Dear Lord, don't leave me because some crazy people want me to cut my hair. I still want to be a Dominican, I just wish I didn't have to cut my hair. But maybe, just maybe, it will be liberating and wonderful, and a fresh start. MAYBE. It could also be the worst thing ever.
Shalom,
Joe
Monday, January 2, 2012
Why Dominican? ... or Community Counts
My first encounter with Dominicans was at my university parish. The two diocesans priests left and in their stead we got three Dominicans. At the time we would jokingly say "since the Dominicans took over," but, it was indeed what happened. The priests wore habits, which we weren't used to, and they didn't do everything just the same. A Midwestern parish can have it's proverbial feathers ruffled rather easily.
There were two things that did make me like them a lot though. First, after the Mass, you would see all three of the priests gathered waiting to greet the parish community. This had never happened when we had Diocesan priests. And second, the preaching - all three of the priests would make us think, would take the gospel in a new direction. Their passionate preaching consistently resonated with us. It was powerful, thoughtful, and showed an empathy with our lives that made listening to a homily easy, enjoyable even. These two things are still big draws for me.
I've looked at some other orders, societies, and whatnot and I still come back to the Dominicans. For me, it comes down to the four pillars: prayer, community, study, and preaching (sometimes referred to as ministry or the apostolate, someday I'll know why). Prayer has become an important part of my life. Listening to God has actually led me to believe that I'm called to be a Dominican. Anyone who knows me knows that I hold friendship in high-esteem and that community is what I build my model of ministry around. I do actually love to read, and am ready to digest some more theology, so study shouldn't be bad. And here's where it gets me: PREACHING. I love the idea of being a preacher. It scares me, because I know how often I'll be preaching to myself, but I know that I will love it. To learn more about the gospel and to share that thoughtfully and lovingly with the church - I just think that's awesome. So the four pillars are awesome. And I am attracted to them. I think they'll be hard, and the road to God is bound to bumpy, but it's worth a try, a whole-hearted try.
Shalom,
Joe
There were two things that did make me like them a lot though. First, after the Mass, you would see all three of the priests gathered waiting to greet the parish community. This had never happened when we had Diocesan priests. And second, the preaching - all three of the priests would make us think, would take the gospel in a new direction. Their passionate preaching consistently resonated with us. It was powerful, thoughtful, and showed an empathy with our lives that made listening to a homily easy, enjoyable even. These two things are still big draws for me.
I've looked at some other orders, societies, and whatnot and I still come back to the Dominicans. For me, it comes down to the four pillars: prayer, community, study, and preaching (sometimes referred to as ministry or the apostolate, someday I'll know why). Prayer has become an important part of my life. Listening to God has actually led me to believe that I'm called to be a Dominican. Anyone who knows me knows that I hold friendship in high-esteem and that community is what I build my model of ministry around. I do actually love to read, and am ready to digest some more theology, so study shouldn't be bad. And here's where it gets me: PREACHING. I love the idea of being a preacher. It scares me, because I know how often I'll be preaching to myself, but I know that I will love it. To learn more about the gospel and to share that thoughtfully and lovingly with the church - I just think that's awesome. So the four pillars are awesome. And I am attracted to them. I think they'll be hard, and the road to God is bound to bumpy, but it's worth a try, a whole-hearted try.
Shalom,
Joe
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Leftover Posts
This is something I typed up some time ago and just like to share wherever I can:
I was praying last night about where my life was supposed to go - What am I supposed to do God? What is Your will for me? And God answered me, be compassionate. This scared me, but I'm going to try like hell. Thinking about this prayer I started thinking about a story, as I so often do. I have shared this story before and I can only hope that by sharing it again and again, I can bring about this change in myself. The title of this story is:
She is Your hands and feet
“Hello.” When my Grandma says hello, it sounds a lot more like yellow, except the end of the word is curved into this curious sort of hospitality. I had called Grandma that day because I needed her to retell a story, I'd heard it before, but pieces of it had disappeared, and I needed to get it back. See, I think of myself as a storyteller, and I needed this one of hers.
“Grandma?”
“Yeah.” She replied, having no idea which of her thirty-something grandchildren it could be.
“It's me, Joe, I was hoping you could tell me that story about seeing Jesus on your wall.”
She of course told me she would, but we had to have a 'what are you doing with your life' conversation first. I don't really like that question, or line of questioning, as I don't think I have ever known a good answer. Anyway, after telling her the better parts of my kind-a-sorta plan on what I was going to do with my life, she said she'd tell me the story.
“We were living in Norfolk, Nebraska, and I had just had your Uncle Jim, I had come home from the hospital, no, no wait... it was Rick. Anyway, this house we were living in had one bedroom in it, and a sort of an attic, wasn't 5 feet high. Anyway Jack and I managed to get a couple of cribs up there, we had four babies in the house now. We used the bedroom on the main floor for the new baby. So me and Jack had nowhere to sleep. There was a new basement, it was clean, but unfinished, so we put our double bed there. We put a chair and a lamp so Jack could read. Anyhow I would lay down, and he would read a book and drink a beer - whatever the hell he did. He had some books from college, some catechises kind of stuff. I remember Jack once said, my God, this is getting ridiculous we are living in the basement with the fungus and our babies have bedrooms.
“Anyway, I had just come home from the hospital and I had fell asleep, I was like a rag. I weighed 180 lbs and dropped down to 145 after I had Rick. Jack woke me up and said, I want you to get up slowly. I thought he was drunk. (My Grandpa was an alcoholic) I sat up real slow, and told Jack I was tired and didn't want any damn monkey business. He insisted, so I got out of bed.
“When Jack was dying, I remember I asked him, Jack do you remember when God showed himself to us in Norfolk? Your Grandpa didn't want to talk about it, he was afraid he hadn't lived up to God's expectations.
“That image of Christ, it has strengthened my faith all the days of my life, Some people think I'm silly or stupid. But I pray for you all everyday. You only have God, 3 to 4 good friends, and your family in your whole life, and that's it.”
I was quiet for a moment. Grandma had filled in all the pieces of that story that had disappeared. The conversation turned to prayer, and who in the family needed prayers. I'm sure it turned other directions as well, but when the story came to an end, it hung over me - it distracted me. I told my Grandma she was an amazing woman and hung up the phone.
"Christ has no body now on earth but yours,
no hands but yours,
no feet but yours,
yours are the eyes through which Christ's compassion
is to look out to the earth,
yours are the feet by which He is to go about doing good
and yours are the hands by which He is to bless us now."
-St Teresa of Avila
I was praying last night about where my life was supposed to go - What am I supposed to do God? What is Your will for me? And God answered me, be compassionate. This scared me, but I'm going to try like hell. Thinking about this prayer I started thinking about a story, as I so often do. I have shared this story before and I can only hope that by sharing it again and again, I can bring about this change in myself. The title of this story is:
She is Your hands and feet
“Hello.” When my Grandma says hello, it sounds a lot more like yellow, except the end of the word is curved into this curious sort of hospitality. I had called Grandma that day because I needed her to retell a story, I'd heard it before, but pieces of it had disappeared, and I needed to get it back. See, I think of myself as a storyteller, and I needed this one of hers.
“Grandma?”
“Yeah.” She replied, having no idea which of her thirty-something grandchildren it could be.
“It's me, Joe, I was hoping you could tell me that story about seeing Jesus on your wall.”
She of course told me she would, but we had to have a 'what are you doing with your life' conversation first. I don't really like that question, or line of questioning, as I don't think I have ever known a good answer. Anyway, after telling her the better parts of my kind-a-sorta plan on what I was going to do with my life, she said she'd tell me the story.
“We were living in Norfolk, Nebraska, and I had just had your Uncle Jim, I had come home from the hospital, no, no wait... it was Rick. Anyway, this house we were living in had one bedroom in it, and a sort of an attic, wasn't 5 feet high. Anyway Jack and I managed to get a couple of cribs up there, we had four babies in the house now. We used the bedroom on the main floor for the new baby. So me and Jack had nowhere to sleep. There was a new basement, it was clean, but unfinished, so we put our double bed there. We put a chair and a lamp so Jack could read. Anyhow I would lay down, and he would read a book and drink a beer - whatever the hell he did. He had some books from college, some catechises kind of stuff. I remember Jack once said, my God, this is getting ridiculous we are living in the basement with the fungus and our babies have bedrooms.
“Anyway, I had just come home from the hospital and I had fell asleep, I was like a rag. I weighed 180 lbs and dropped down to 145 after I had Rick. Jack woke me up and said, I want you to get up slowly. I thought he was drunk. (My Grandpa was an alcoholic) I sat up real slow, and told Jack I was tired and didn't want any damn monkey business. He insisted, so I got out of bed.
“When Jack was dying, I remember I asked him, Jack do you remember when God showed himself to us in Norfolk? Your Grandpa didn't want to talk about it, he was afraid he hadn't lived up to God's expectations.
“That image of Christ, it has strengthened my faith all the days of my life, Some people think I'm silly or stupid. But I pray for you all everyday. You only have God, 3 to 4 good friends, and your family in your whole life, and that's it.”
I was quiet for a moment. Grandma had filled in all the pieces of that story that had disappeared. The conversation turned to prayer, and who in the family needed prayers. I'm sure it turned other directions as well, but when the story came to an end, it hung over me - it distracted me. I told my Grandma she was an amazing woman and hung up the phone.
"Christ has no body now on earth but yours,
no hands but yours,
no feet but yours,
yours are the eyes through which Christ's compassion
is to look out to the earth,
yours are the feet by which He is to go about doing good
and yours are the hands by which He is to bless us now."
-St Teresa of Avila
"Hearing" the Call or Vocare
I think I have done some of my Christian brothers and sisters a disservice. I have probably fibbed about prayer. I have talked about "Hearing" God, as though this voice was clear as a bell and as though I had some idea what it meant at the time. For me, God is rarely even that "still small voice" let alone bursting through the clouds proclaiming anything in a deep rumbling voice. But, I still believe God is calling me, how is that so?
A sidebar: I work as a chaplain at a college and work with a bunch of college students who sometimes get upset about ... silly things. I had a student stop by last year who was upset because his roommate was saying some awful stuff about him. It was about 11:30 at night so, to be fair, I was looking for a way to end the conversation quickly (how incredibly pastoral of me, I know). So after he informed that this roommate was drunk, I jumped in. "There's a rumor going around, and it's a lie. The lie is we are more honest when we are drunk, because we are saying things without thinking about them. Honesty doesn't work like that, honesty requires reflection, thoughtfulness, and slowing down. Anybody can yell what they're thinking, but that doesn't mean it's true." The student seemed happy with my answer and went about is way.
I share this little story because it is how prayer often works for me. Not that I get drunk and yell things at God, HA! Instead, what is happening in the moment is often indiscernible. I can feel a presence of God, or feel my heart being tugged. I can imagine myself as a priest and it brings me distinct joy. But the honesty of my calling doesn't come clear in the moment. It doesn't crystallize. Instead it requires reflection.
My spiritual director, a wonderful Dominican Sister, has me writing just a few sentences after silent prayer. After, "Listening" to God. This is not to prove I prayed or simply as a record. Instead I do this primarily to discern what God is saying to me. So I can look over my prayer, my imagination, my encounter with scripture, and my spiritual director and I can look for patterns.
One of these patterns is a call to ministry, to share the word of God, in a word - preaching. I feel called to share my life by preaching the Word of God. I'm just trying to figure out the best way to do that. So, let's hope and pray I figure that out. But, I am excited, and that's a good sign.
Shalom,
Joe
A sidebar: I work as a chaplain at a college and work with a bunch of college students who sometimes get upset about ... silly things. I had a student stop by last year who was upset because his roommate was saying some awful stuff about him. It was about 11:30 at night so, to be fair, I was looking for a way to end the conversation quickly (how incredibly pastoral of me, I know). So after he informed that this roommate was drunk, I jumped in. "There's a rumor going around, and it's a lie. The lie is we are more honest when we are drunk, because we are saying things without thinking about them. Honesty doesn't work like that, honesty requires reflection, thoughtfulness, and slowing down. Anybody can yell what they're thinking, but that doesn't mean it's true." The student seemed happy with my answer and went about is way.
I share this little story because it is how prayer often works for me. Not that I get drunk and yell things at God, HA! Instead, what is happening in the moment is often indiscernible. I can feel a presence of God, or feel my heart being tugged. I can imagine myself as a priest and it brings me distinct joy. But the honesty of my calling doesn't come clear in the moment. It doesn't crystallize. Instead it requires reflection.
My spiritual director, a wonderful Dominican Sister, has me writing just a few sentences after silent prayer. After, "Listening" to God. This is not to prove I prayed or simply as a record. Instead I do this primarily to discern what God is saying to me. So I can look over my prayer, my imagination, my encounter with scripture, and my spiritual director and I can look for patterns.
One of these patterns is a call to ministry, to share the word of God, in a word - preaching. I feel called to share my life by preaching the Word of God. I'm just trying to figure out the best way to do that. So, let's hope and pray I figure that out. But, I am excited, and that's a good sign.
Shalom,
Joe
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