Weakness is Strength

French spiritual writer Henri Nouwen once wrote in a letter to a group of high school students in the Archdiocese of Baltimore that worldly success comes from strength, but spiritual success comes from weakness. In the picture to the left is a man from Assisi who probably experiences this truth. He has chosen poverty as a way of life in order to point to the joy of the Resurrection that comes from and transcends the cross. His picture was made into a gigantic billboard that stands on the wall of the central piazza of Assisi to be seen by every visitor.


And like him, I guess that I too have experienced a good bit of weakness lately. After almost two months of studying Italian- my language skills have shown to be very weak. I also am weak in the great distance between me and family; the distance between me and friends; the distance between me and very real supports in my life. Being in community with over 200 other men who are so gifted and talented in their daily habitual lives of faith has also made me aware of my weakness and many rooms for growth. I also carry the weaknesses of past experiences, as we all do.

Another area of weakness has come to the surface as well. Every year here at the NAC there is a flag football game on the weekend of Thanksgiving called the Spaghetti Bowl. In this game the new men (60 of us) challenge the old men (almost 200) to the Roman version of the Turkey Bowl. And for some reason these guys, my classmates, asked me to be their coach. Sure, I coached rugby for a while and coached a little bit of volleyball, but I have not played football on a team since the 7th grade- and while I'm a huge Ravens fan, I haven't had the chance to sit in on any of the coaches' meetings or hear the rationale behind calling plays.

So I decided to do what any honest weak person would do- I went out and got some help. I put together a group of assistant coaches who know a ton more football than I do- and these guys are top notch! Not to mention the great athletes that are in our class! We had our first coaches' meeting today, and I am very excited to see how this team is going to unfold. And as we set out on this task our primary goal is 100% participation- that every single new man will in some way contribute and take part in this game, this team, this community.

And as I was praying earlier today I realized that this is how it happens. This is how weakness yields great success, how weakness transcends to strength and victory. The man that I mentioned earlier who begs on the streets of Assisi lives off of the generosity of others. And for all of us that same dependency is a reality. The more we invite others into our weakness, the more we are able to grow in real solidarity. This football team has a much better chance of shocking the NAC community by defeating the old men now because of these guys who have agreed to contribute their skills, experience, and ideas.

And if I am going to be honest, I have a much better chance of being a good man of faith thanks to the countless prayers and support of others. I cannot express how humbling and exhilarating it is to hear, see, and experience the reality that people are praying for me. Hearing or reading that I am the recipient of a Mass intention or knowing that someone is praying for me has literally been life changing. And although I am close to and very aware of those weaknesses that I had mentioned earlier, my experience of them has been one of peace and joy. I believe that is due to the prayers of family, friends, fellow parishioners at St. Stephen, the rugby team at Loyola College, the teachers and students at John Carroll, my brother seminarians and priests, parishioners at St. Gregory the Great, St. Augustine, and St. James who are praying for me.

A little while ago the Rugby Team at Loyola College went on their annual team retreat. Unfortunately I wasn't able to make it. But from what I hear- it was a great success. There's another great example of a group of people coming together for and with one another; another example of community being formed. The more they support one another without hesitation in their weaknesses the more they will succeed both on and off of the field.

Saint Paul

Yesterday was quite the day. It started with a regularly grueling four hours of Italian. And then, after lunch, all of us new men made a pilgrimage to the Basilica of St. Paul outside of the walls- the church that holds the remains of St. Paul. There were several things about this basilica that really struck me. At first it was the sheer magnitude-- this is a huge church, and was the largest church until St. Peter's Basilica was built. Another thing that struck me was the mixture of Eastern and Western Christianity. There were several moving sculptures, images, and representations of the Byzantine and Eastern traditions of Christianity. And yet another thing that really struck a cord with me was the close connection that was made between St. Peter and St. Paul. It was clear- both from an architectural and an artistic perspective- that St. Peter and St. Paul are two of the major pillars of the Church. And these two men, although both taking part in their fair share of public and extreme mistakes, have been instruments of great grace and hope and faith.

On the trip home I kept thinking about and trying to process the fact that I had just seen and prayed with the remains of St. Paul, and one of the most elegant churches in the West. And I found myself looking for reflections of that same beauty; but the trek back to the seminary took us on an interesting ride in the metro. One of my new brothers here at the NAC caught a woman trying to steal his wallet. Luckily she was unsuccessful, but it was a cold reminder of the reality of poverty and desperation here in Rome. And I found myself thinking- how would St. Paul react to this? How would St. Paul and the other apostles react to the current state of Rome?

These thoughts continued to circulate on the walk from the metro station to the seminary; until the moment when I was just about to enter St. Peter's Square when I heard a familiar voice call out, "Josh Laws!" As I looked around to see who in the world knew who I was all of the way over here in Italy, I saw an old friend- Pat Teranova, who I have worked with a couple of years on Justice Action Week- a week long service/emersion experience for high schoolers from around the Archdiocese of Baltimore that exposes them to central teachings on Social Justice and introduces them to some of the service agencies in the city, in hopes that they will establish relations with and give of themselves in service at these different agencies. And it was absolutely incredible to see Pat. It was great to meet his two friends who were with him and to be able to catch up, even though it was only for a couple of minutes. And as I said my goodbyes to them and made plans to meet them again; I couldn't help but think that this is exactly what St. Paul and St. Peter would expect of Rome-- the center and heart of the Church. They would expect that this is where people of faith, people of justice, people who work together in building something great would meet. This is the place where they will bump into each other and reconnect. This is the place where they will meet to scheme up new initiatives for working towards justice and building peace.

As I continued walking, after making plans to see Pat and his friends again, I kept thinking about this; and being grateful for the opportunity to be here. And as I crossed the pillars of the arms of St. Peter's Square and made my way over to the ramp entrance to the short-cup back to the seminary I saw a man standing over in the corner. As I got closer I saw that he was holding a small white plastic cup. And so, after being reminded why I am here in Rome, I stopped and talked for a while with Giuliano.

Sure, I was wearing clerics and may have been a typical target for someone to get a buck from; and sure, I made small addition to the coins in his cup. But I noticed and was really struck by our conversation. He told me that he sleeps out in St. Peter's Square almost every night, and that he remains steadfast, amidst his struggles, in his faith. And each time that he referred to his faith or to his family he reached out and touched my chest- right over my heart. And he continually, throughout the conversation, referred to me as fratello (brother).

After we had parted and I made my way back to the seminary, I kept thinking about the day as a whole: the experience of going from praying at the tomb of St. Paul to meeting an old friend to meeting a new friend who is a native of Rome and does not have a home to call his own. And I thought- how incredibly integrated this day has been. First I met the remains of a man who taught peace and community; then I saw and got to reconnect with a man who works for peace and community; and then I met a man who is in dire need of peace and community.

This morning, to bring everything together, in the homily one of our priests here at the NAC quoted St. Paul in his homily. He told us that the role of the priest is to be a faithful minister of joy. And as I thought about these words I couldn't help but get excited- excited that I am in formation to be a priest, excited about the fact that our Church is so radical in being focused on others, excited in the reality that there is much work to be done, and excited in the Holy Spirit who is here to guide our every work.

Living Bones

Yesterday I went with a few of the guys from the seminary on the scavi tour at St. Peter's. The tour goes through fairly recent renovations and excavations below the basilica. It starts with ancient Roman burial crypts where middle class Roman pagans burried their dead. And as you walk along the street (still underneath the Basilica) you eventually arrive at an ancient Christian burial site where the ceiling holds the oldest known mosaic of Christ. But the highlight of the tour was the bones of St. Peter. After being discovered and thoroughly tested, the remains of St. Peter were put in a clear box (built by NASA) almost directly under the main altar of the Basilica. Our tour guide, a brother seminarian, told us that John Paul II used to come to this site upon arriving back in Rome after every major trip to pray at the remains of St. Peter. And structurally it is clear that these bones are the heart and central foundation of the Basilica.

I took the opportunity there to pray for my family, friends, and the many parishioners that I have had the opportunity to work and worship with. And as I prayed, I couldn't help but think of how imperfect Peter was. I kept remembering how he had doubted Jesus, sinking into the water, and how he intentionally and publicly denied Jesus three times. But somehow he was invited to be one of the twelve disciples. And somehow he became the first pope- the rock upon which the Church was built. And somehow countless people have come to Rome from all across the world to pray at his remains.

Right after returning to the seminary we all went to holy hour where we prayed, gazing into the Eucharist in a golden monstrance. And as I sat in silence I kept thinking about the juxtaposition- Peter who had publicly denied Jesus Christ and now the Eucharist- in which Christ is truly present.

As prayer continued I thought about how all of us are somehow present in the Eucharist as well- in some kind of harmonious union with God and with one another. And how all of us, like Peter, are incredibly unworthy. I sat for a while thinking about that- our unworthiness, our weakness-- and yet our invitation, our strength.

Directly after holy hour we prayed Evening Prayer as a community. And the response was: "I shall know the fullness of joy when I see your face, O Lord." What a great line! When I read it, the first thing that came to mind was this image of Mother Teresa- the sheer joy that she must have experienced as she encountered Christ in this child. The sheer joy that she experienced when she saw God, face to face.

I spent some time with that one- reflecting on the many times that I have seen the face of God in prayer, in the poor, in family, in the sacraments, in friends, in parishioners, in strangers. And being full of joy.

An attitude of gratitude is the theme for the day I guess. Grateful for these saints who have freely spent themselves in the service of others and for God who continually invites us to do the same in his Spirit.