Vive Christo Rey

Today is the feast day of Christ the King. It comes at the end of the Liturgical year as one last rally, one last celebration to totally dedicate our every action. And since it falls at the end of the year it invites us to review our year-- to reflect on the past year and ask ourselves where God was present in the past year; where God was calling us to give of ourselves in the past year; and how we can continue to respond to those calls.

Fittingly this past weekend also featured the installation of 24 new cardinals-- 24 men from around the world, now called princes of the Church, who may vote on and may become the next pope. The idea behind calling them princes, I think, is that they stand as leaders who are called now more than ever to be ready to embody the utterly sacrificial life of Christ. Let us not ever forget the king whom they are now invited to follow, as are we all.

This king, who we celebrate today, was one who chose as his chariot, his luxury car, a borrowed donkey. This king chose as his crown thorns which were given to him in mockery and rejection. This king chose for his support staff the rejects of society-- the fishermen and tax collectors. This king gained popularity and followership through preaching generosity, love, justice, service, peace, and above all forgiveness. And this king chose as his throne the cross.

Last night I had the opportunity to go into the Apostolic Palace, the pope's house, to greet the new cardinals, since the doors were open to the general public. And from talking to many of them, my classmates and I concluded that the most common thing that we heard from the new cardinals was an earnest request for prayers. They asked us to pray for them-- that they may be able to say yes to that which God is calling them. They asked us to pray for their home dioceses and Archdioceses. They asked us to pray for the people entrusted to their care. They asked us to pray for the Church.

The calling that they receive, I believe, is to be like Blessed Miguel Pro, SJ who pointed his every action towards the praise, reverence, and service of Christ the King. Pro was a free spirit who lived his priesthood and his Christianity to the fullest in a Mexico that outlawed any public display of Christianity. Pro disguised himself as a police officer, street cleaner, clown-- and did whatever he possibly could to bring Christ to everyone that he encountered. He put on different hats and different clothes to meet the people where they were. And although he knew that he was breaking the law and putting his life in jeopardy, Miguel Pro did all of this with a smile and is known for how joyfully he lived the Gospel.

Ultimately, though, Pro was martyred for his heroic efforts. He was placed before a firing squad and given one last chance to reject the faith. The news and propaganda cameras were rolling in sure hopes that Pro would meet their expectations-- but in his last words, the words that could have saved his life-- Pro cried at the top of his lungs-- "Viva Christo Rey-- Long Live Christ the King!"

I told these new cardinals that I would pray for them; and so I will. I will pray that they will embody the simplicity of purpose that Blessed Miguel Pro lived. I will pray that they embody the characteristics and humility fitting of a prince of Christ the King.

Rendiamo Grazie

This past weekend my Christology professor, Fr. Donath Herscik, SJ passed away. He had been in a great deal of pain for some time due to his battle with cancer; and left this world for the next on Saturday after praying the Rosary and singing the Salve Regina with a brother Jesuit. The more I think about Fr. Herscik, the more grateful that I am for his immense gift of self to my classmates and me. I truly believe that Fr. Herscik taught Christology by embodying Christ on the cross. Although, undoubtedly, another professor could have been found, this priest who had been suffering a great deal for over a year chose to begin another semester-- to begin another opportunity to speak of the Lord whom he loved so thoroughly.

During class lectures it was clear that Fr. Herscik was in pain as he spoke, though he would never say it; but it was also clear, from the spark in his eye and the almost meticulous detail of his excitement in the person and nature of Jesus the Christ that this man truly knew Jesus of Nazareth and had devoted his life to gaining even greater knowledge of him and the opportunities to spread this knowledge to the next generation of theology. And in addition to the factual, methodological, and spiritual testimony that he gave to us as his students, Fr. Herscik also gave us the witness of one who generously gives of self beyond all resemblance of comfort.

I think also of John Paul II, who in the later years of his life shared himself with all of us through and with his debilitated and suffering state. For me, such witness screams of hope. Hope that what we are doing is absolutely worth it. Hope that one more talk, one more homily, one more Sacrifice of the Mass, one more confession heard, one more class will make a difference. Hope that no matter what we go through in this life we have the assurance of eternal union with God who is beyond our wildest dreams. This is a hope, the hope, that sustains us in everything that we do-- and this hope comes first and foremost, I believe, from our personal knowledge of God. It comes from the ways and times in which we have encountered God who breaks into our ordinary lives to fill us with his life and his love.

Having known Fr. Herscik and many others like him, I want to be a priest all the more. I want to, like them, step out of the way and let God work through me; to let God work through the love of my actions. And I am absolutely excited to know that if it is God's will for me to be a priest I will have the opportunity to be in community with, worship with, work with, and learn from thousands of people who testify and witness to this same hope in their daily lives. There are so many people that I have met, young and old, since even before becoming a seminarian who live this hope so thoroughly and so generously. And I am grateful to them.

Talking with my classmates and brother seminarians, we can only imagine the great joy that was on Fr. Herscik's face as he gazed into the eyes of this Jesus the Christ and heard him say, "Donath, thank you. You spoke well of me."

What great opportunities all of us have, no matter who or where we are, to spend of ourselves generously in love along with our Lord and the entire communion of saints-- which, by the way, includes you too.

Rejoice! From the East to the West! Rejoice!

This past weekend at the NAC was a travel weekend; and since all of our universities celebrated the feast of All Saints today- it was a rare three day travel weekend. So five friends and I made a trip over to Medjegorje in Bosnia. Medjegorje is a small and very simple town which has become a major place of prayer visited by thousands of people from around the world.

During our short stay there I was absolutely blown away by the universality and the immense generosity of our Church. On the boat ride across the Adriatic Sea we ran into a group of American pilgrims in a group called Totally Yours. We had the chance to talk with them for a while on the boat; and were blown away when they invited us to join them in their bus ride up into town (about 3 hours by bus) and then generously offered to pay for our transportation back to Split just so that we could join them for a conference Sunday afternoon. And while in town we were really overwhelmed with their generosity and the generosity of the people of Medjegorje.

There were thousands of people of all ages in Medjegorje from all over the world who had come to pray and to seek God. The parish church in the center of the town is always full. Whether it be for the Rosary, Adoration, Mass, or any other prayer service; the church building is shoulder-to-shoulder standing room only. It is busting at the seams with people surrounding the building on all sides. To the left of the church building is a row of confessional booths and pairs of chairs set up along the side of the church for confessions. And the crowd lining up for confessions is seemingly endless.

There is also a very strong Marian devotion in Medjegorje; I think that this devotion to Mary is one that leads people towards Jesus and towards a more selfless life of love. On Saturday night we went to Adoration and were lucky to get there when we did (almost 30 minutes before the service started) because we were just able to get a spot standing in the back of the church. During the service we, people from all around the world, joined together in song- singing in different languages as one voice of praise. It was amazing because they showed the words of the songs (each verse in a different language) that just about everyone joined in, trying their best to sing Spanish, Italian, Greek, etc. But what was most amazing was how the entire church, both inside and outside of the building, raised their voices just about as loud as possible whenever the chorus came: "Alleluia!" And as I stood there, in between an Italian man and a woman from Bosnia, it struck me that our international word- the word that we all know and need absolutely no translation for- is Alleluia. We are, as a community and as a Church, people who rejoice.

While reading for a class on the train ride from Ancora back to Rome I came across an interesting fact: The very first word which ushered into existence Christianity in a formal way was "Rejoice." The first thing that the Angel Gabriel said to Mary- "Rejoice!" And we too are met with that same challenge. And for me this past weekend was a great opportunity to do just that. In seeing the massive amounts of people coming together to pray and in seeing their generosity, willingness to work on their relationships with God, and their joy, and in growing closer to my brother seminarians, I was all the more renewed in my desire to be a priest- someone who

lives no longer for myself but for reconciliation, for peace, for love, for others.

When we got back to Rome and I had a chance to look at the news I was devastated to see what happened in Baghdad yesterday. It was jarring to come from the peace and joy of Medjegorje to this very bitter reality of division in the world. And in prayer down in the chapel I realized that this effects all of us. All of us were in that chapel in Baghdad, united in praise of God. All of us were in that chapel in Baghdad participating in the sacrifice and rejoicing of the Mass. And so how do we respond? How do we support one another? How do we reach out to those for whom coming together to pray is an action of immanent danger? Based on the experiences of this past weeked for me, I'd say that our only response is love. The only response that we can offer is love-- love through prayer for all of those involved. And also, part of our response I believe, ought to be love for one another. A very real love lived out within our families- as we come together as families in prayer and supporting one another, and in our neighborhoods, our work-places, our parishes, etc. We respond and transcend hatred and division through love. It is the only just response.