I am an avid bicyclist and today I found out my sport has a patroness -- Madonna del Ghisallo. How exciting!
I found a brief description of the ride to the shrine here. I think I am putting this trip on my list of things to do before I die. Don't know if I have the ability to cycle it, but at least I would like to visit the shrine in person.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Our First Martyr
Tuesday's readings contained the passage from the Acts of the Apostles regarding how Stephen became the first Christian martyr. It just so happened that I was lector on Tuesday due to the usual lector's having to go to jury duty.
I have heard this story a number of times since joining my parish, which happens to be St. Stephen Protomartyr parish. Even before I decided to become Catholic, I had often thought to myself how vivid is this recollection of Stephen's martyrdom! Finally, I had an opportunity to read this passage aloud to the congregation -- what an honor!
St. Stephen was a man who was passionate about his faith in Jesus Christ and deeply troubled by the obstinance of his peers -- and was bold enough to voice his opinions and feelings about both. How can we find a way to incorporate some of that boldness into our lives today?
Of course, Stephen paid for his boldness with his life. Today, in this country, though not entirely unheard of, it is rare that a person will pay for unwelcome outspokenness with physical death. Rather, people -- especially those in the public arena -- often pay for their unpopular comments with a metaphoric execution in the media.
A case in point that is popular at this moment is Archbishop Burke's decision to resign from the Cardinal Glennon Children's Medical Center foundation's board of directors. The reason for his resignation is that an upcoming fundraiser includes a performance by Sheryl Crow, who is a firm believer in embryonic stem cell research. The Archbishop's position is that Crow "promotes moral evils" and he could not in good conscience support her inclusion in a fundraiser for a Catholic hospital.
My point in bringing this up is not to argue whether Archbishop Burke was right or wrong in his decision to resign, but to point out that his moral stance, and his stringent defense of it, is being publicly trashed by the media. Already an unpopular Archbishop, he has found himself in a very unpopular position and is yet again suffering a public "execution".
What is it about us today that we are so quick to pass judgment? Can no one see the point behind Archbishop Burke's position? Of course, another excellent position I heard on the story was (paraphrasing) "are we [at Cardinal Glennon] going to ask every nurse, doctor, employee, or volunteer whether their stances on moral issues align to Catholic teachings?"
What I would really like to see us, as a society, do more of is spend some time pondering and analyzing a situation from its different perspectives, rather than jump feet first into passing judgment on it and the parties involved. Of course, I am aware I am being an idealist and am also mindful that careful pondering does not make good television (radio, blogs, etc.). However, can we at least remember the example of Stephen's life and learn from his executioners -- so quick to judge, but yet how wrong they were!
I have heard this story a number of times since joining my parish, which happens to be St. Stephen Protomartyr parish. Even before I decided to become Catholic, I had often thought to myself how vivid is this recollection of Stephen's martyrdom! Finally, I had an opportunity to read this passage aloud to the congregation -- what an honor!
St. Stephen was a man who was passionate about his faith in Jesus Christ and deeply troubled by the obstinance of his peers -- and was bold enough to voice his opinions and feelings about both. How can we find a way to incorporate some of that boldness into our lives today?
Of course, Stephen paid for his boldness with his life. Today, in this country, though not entirely unheard of, it is rare that a person will pay for unwelcome outspokenness with physical death. Rather, people -- especially those in the public arena -- often pay for their unpopular comments with a metaphoric execution in the media.
A case in point that is popular at this moment is Archbishop Burke's decision to resign from the Cardinal Glennon Children's Medical Center foundation's board of directors. The reason for his resignation is that an upcoming fundraiser includes a performance by Sheryl Crow, who is a firm believer in embryonic stem cell research. The Archbishop's position is that Crow "promotes moral evils" and he could not in good conscience support her inclusion in a fundraiser for a Catholic hospital.
My point in bringing this up is not to argue whether Archbishop Burke was right or wrong in his decision to resign, but to point out that his moral stance, and his stringent defense of it, is being publicly trashed by the media. Already an unpopular Archbishop, he has found himself in a very unpopular position and is yet again suffering a public "execution".
What is it about us today that we are so quick to pass judgment? Can no one see the point behind Archbishop Burke's position? Of course, another excellent position I heard on the story was (paraphrasing) "are we [at Cardinal Glennon] going to ask every nurse, doctor, employee, or volunteer whether their stances on moral issues align to Catholic teachings?"
What I would really like to see us, as a society, do more of is spend some time pondering and analyzing a situation from its different perspectives, rather than jump feet first into passing judgment on it and the parties involved. Of course, I am aware I am being an idealist and am also mindful that careful pondering does not make good television (radio, blogs, etc.). However, can we at least remember the example of Stephen's life and learn from his executioners -- so quick to judge, but yet how wrong they were!
Saturday, April 7, 2007
Remembering, renewing
The most moving celebration I have encountered within the Catholic faith is the Easter Triduum. The three days -- Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Vigil/Easter Sunday -- are a single, solemn, powerful, and ultimately, triumphant rememberance of Jesus' last supper, death, and resurrection.
Having converted to Catholicism Easter, 2006, this year was the first time I could participate as a Catholic in all the aspects of the Easter Triduum. For me, it is an intense and intimate time of prayer, remembrance, and in-depth introspection.
One of the most personal and humbling aspects of a Catholic celebration of Holy Thursday is foot-washing, which commemorates the foot-washing story from John's gospel. Experiencing this ritual firsthand was, in large part, responsible for my decision to become Catholic.
Remembering our Lord's passion, death, and resurrection these three holy days culminates in a renewal through the restatement and affirmation of our baptismal promises. I am so grateful to be able to remember my own baptism since I made my initial baptismal promises as an adult. So many memories from last year returned to me this Lent and these past few days, especially this evening, at the Easter Vigil celebration. I remember standing before the baptismal font as the water was poured into it and blessed by my pastor. I recalled bending at the waist over the font and my spiritual advisor pouring holy water over my head, reciting the words "I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit" in a silent church full of people -- purely one of the most energizing and electric moments of my entire life!
There are so many more memories that came to me this evening and these past days, but for me, what it all adds up to is I have found a deep and everlasting love in Jesus Christ, I remember that love he expressed for me on the Cross, and seek to ever-renew myself in that love.
Having converted to Catholicism Easter, 2006, this year was the first time I could participate as a Catholic in all the aspects of the Easter Triduum. For me, it is an intense and intimate time of prayer, remembrance, and in-depth introspection.
One of the most personal and humbling aspects of a Catholic celebration of Holy Thursday is foot-washing, which commemorates the foot-washing story from John's gospel. Experiencing this ritual firsthand was, in large part, responsible for my decision to become Catholic.
Remembering our Lord's passion, death, and resurrection these three holy days culminates in a renewal through the restatement and affirmation of our baptismal promises. I am so grateful to be able to remember my own baptism since I made my initial baptismal promises as an adult. So many memories from last year returned to me this Lent and these past few days, especially this evening, at the Easter Vigil celebration. I remember standing before the baptismal font as the water was poured into it and blessed by my pastor. I recalled bending at the waist over the font and my spiritual advisor pouring holy water over my head, reciting the words "I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit" in a silent church full of people -- purely one of the most energizing and electric moments of my entire life!
There are so many more memories that came to me this evening and these past days, but for me, what it all adds up to is I have found a deep and everlasting love in Jesus Christ, I remember that love he expressed for me on the Cross, and seek to ever-renew myself in that love.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Turn away from sin and be faithful to the Gospel (Mk 1:15)
I love Ash Wednesday.
This is the first Ash Wednesday I am a Catholic. It is the second Ash Wednesday when I have received the dark ashen sign of the cross on my forehead.
The thing I love most about Ash Wednesday is that Catholics all over the world who attend Mass on Ash Wednesday are visibly marked with the sign of their faith, which they then carry with them throughout the day. Behind each of those sooty smudges is a Catholic, unified with the Church community through the symbol of the cross.
The humility with which people acquiesce to be marked in this way is striking. This mark is a sign of one's repentance -- an external admission of sorrow for one's mistakes and failings. What a profound way to submit to God and express your service to God to those around you.
This is the first Ash Wednesday I am a Catholic. It is the second Ash Wednesday when I have received the dark ashen sign of the cross on my forehead.
The thing I love most about Ash Wednesday is that Catholics all over the world who attend Mass on Ash Wednesday are visibly marked with the sign of their faith, which they then carry with them throughout the day. Behind each of those sooty smudges is a Catholic, unified with the Church community through the symbol of the cross.
The humility with which people acquiesce to be marked in this way is striking. This mark is a sign of one's repentance -- an external admission of sorrow for one's mistakes and failings. What a profound way to submit to God and express your service to God to those around you.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Shrine of St. Joseph
From time to time, I go on what I term as "field trips" with the lady who was my RCIA sponsor. We pick a Catholic place I haven't been to and go there with each other. It is a great way for me to spend time with my friend, who's a great lady (and former School Sister of Notre Dame), and the field trips help me get a greater understanding and context for the universal Church.
Today, we visited the Shrine of St. Joseph, which is in downtown St. Louis. After Mass at 11 AM, we went on a tour that was given by Les, a volunteer at the shrine. His tour was extremely informative and lasted far longer than I thought it might; the whole thing was well over an hour. Not only did we tour the church itself, but we were also invited to tour the rectory.
The most unique thing to know about the shrine is it is the site of the only miracle in the midwestern U.S. to have been authenticated by the Vatican.
The shrine itself is beautiful and has a lot of statuary. A major restoration of the shrine began in the early 80's. I don't think the restoration is officially "over", but many people have certainly have done some amazing things with this previously dilapidated site in the last quarter century.
Today, we visited the Shrine of St. Joseph, which is in downtown St. Louis. After Mass at 11 AM, we went on a tour that was given by Les, a volunteer at the shrine. His tour was extremely informative and lasted far longer than I thought it might; the whole thing was well over an hour. Not only did we tour the church itself, but we were also invited to tour the rectory.
The most unique thing to know about the shrine is it is the site of the only miracle in the midwestern U.S. to have been authenticated by the Vatican.
The shrine itself is beautiful and has a lot of statuary. A major restoration of the shrine began in the early 80's. I don't think the restoration is officially "over", but many people have certainly have done some amazing things with this previously dilapidated site in the last quarter century.
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
St. Malo - peak to peak highway
OK this is totally sweet -- it's a place I can go to do a spiritual retreat that also happens to be located near one of the most spectacular destinations and bicycling locations in this country:
www.saintmalo.org
It's good to be Catholic. God bless Rev. Msgr. Joseph J. Bosetti for discovering this location.
www.saintmalo.org
It's good to be Catholic. God bless Rev. Msgr. Joseph J. Bosetti for discovering this location.
Notes from the pain cave
You may know that in bicycling (and probably other sports), there is a concept known as the "pain cave", which is the place you go when you are really pushing yourself to, or even beyond, your previously achieved or known limits. The object of going through your pain cave is to see how far you can push yourself to the limits, but still manage to come out of the pain cave alive.
I am training myself for the cycling season, getting motivated to enter the pain cave, which will culminate in an attempt at my first ever 100-mile bike ride, which I hope to do in May of this year. I think I can do it, but won't know until I have done a few training rides on my new road bike, which I hope to buy some time next month.
In 2005, riding even 10 miles on a bike, let alone 100, would have seemed utterly insurmountable, physically and mentally. In 2006, I began cycling again, but the 100-mile ride was not something that entered my head until the last ride of the season, when I strongly finished 40 miles on my mountain bike. When talking to people at bike shops and at the gym about this accomplishment, they usually express surprise that I rode so far on a mountain bike, then tell me that if I am able to do 40 miles on a mt. bike, I should be able to do 60 miles on a road bike with no problems. Cool!
Life itself has many pain caves that we go through. We experience physical pain, searing heartbreak at the hands of loved ones, disappointments, sadness, and mourning. Sometimes several of these things happen all at once, which can really test your perseverance. I have had many of these experiences in the past few months -- the death of a very dear family friend in November, the death of a too-young (35 years old) co-worker due to cancer in January, personal issues, and the most recent trip to the pain cave was courtesy of the two guys who mugged me. The trick is to bear down and work through the pain cave, trusting in God to get you through it.
You will find me in the gym several times a week during these cold winter months, hammering away on the arc trainer machine, or sometimes the elliptical or maybe even jogging the treadmill (another goal this year to is complete my first-ever 5-K run). I'm usually staring straight ahead, into a wall or looking at a window. I'm envisioning myself pushing through the pain cave at mile 75, working my way through the darkness and pain, and into the light, with God's help.
I am training myself for the cycling season, getting motivated to enter the pain cave, which will culminate in an attempt at my first ever 100-mile bike ride, which I hope to do in May of this year. I think I can do it, but won't know until I have done a few training rides on my new road bike, which I hope to buy some time next month.
In 2005, riding even 10 miles on a bike, let alone 100, would have seemed utterly insurmountable, physically and mentally. In 2006, I began cycling again, but the 100-mile ride was not something that entered my head until the last ride of the season, when I strongly finished 40 miles on my mountain bike. When talking to people at bike shops and at the gym about this accomplishment, they usually express surprise that I rode so far on a mountain bike, then tell me that if I am able to do 40 miles on a mt. bike, I should be able to do 60 miles on a road bike with no problems. Cool!
Life itself has many pain caves that we go through. We experience physical pain, searing heartbreak at the hands of loved ones, disappointments, sadness, and mourning. Sometimes several of these things happen all at once, which can really test your perseverance. I have had many of these experiences in the past few months -- the death of a very dear family friend in November, the death of a too-young (35 years old) co-worker due to cancer in January, personal issues, and the most recent trip to the pain cave was courtesy of the two guys who mugged me. The trick is to bear down and work through the pain cave, trusting in God to get you through it.
You will find me in the gym several times a week during these cold winter months, hammering away on the arc trainer machine, or sometimes the elliptical or maybe even jogging the treadmill (another goal this year to is complete my first-ever 5-K run). I'm usually staring straight ahead, into a wall or looking at a window. I'm envisioning myself pushing through the pain cave at mile 75, working my way through the darkness and pain, and into the light, with God's help.
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