Caritas Begins in the Home.

I'm sure that driving through our neighborhoods we have seen houses just like this. The first two thoughts that enter my mind are "how did they get all those lights up there?" and "I wonder how much it costs to light that house right now?". I know, I'm a mood killer. You can call me a grinch if you like. And while I certainly celebrate the right of every person to decorate, or not decorate, their house as they see fit, I will call foul when they say that it's in the spirit of the Christmas season.

"We're preparing for the baby Jesus. You know shine the light for the light coming into the world." Wonderful sentiment but sorely off the mark. When I think of a home that is prepared for "the light of the world", I don't think of the perfect Christmas tree, Santa Claus and his sleigh lit in the front yard and a Mickey Mouse Nativity scene by the front door telling me to have "A Very Disney Christmas". Instead I think of the preparations that have taken place in the hearts of those inside the home. This becomes much more evident as the tensest moments of the Advent season (yep, I said Advent) wash over us like breakers. My wife and I finished all our Christmas shopping, decorated our tree, and began the holiday baking earlier than ever this year. But that didn't stop us from being frustrated with each other, about losing sleep with a crying baby, about relatives bickering senselessly with each other, and of course don't forget the dogs. It's during this season of preparation for celebrating Christ's birth that we need more than ever to think of his death and resurrection. We need to ask how he prepared himself; physically, emotionally, and spiritually to face the horrible trial he would endure to bring us back from exile and to the throne of the Father. We need to focus on our own hearts and if we are up to the task of following him.

Where does that begin? It begins with those who are closest to us in proximity but more often than not furthest from our hearts. I am speaking of family. I am speaking of the relatives with whom we make small talk for a few moments, exchange a Christmas card and a fruit cake (if you really don't like them) and then forget them for another year. Or worse, think of the relationship each of has with our siblings, parents, spouse, or children. Caritas was one of the Greek words for love. Many of the scriptures we interpret as talking about erotic love or the love between a man and wife are in fact talking about the most basic and necessary charity that every family needs. When I look at my wife and children my goal is to see not what they might do for me but rather how I might serve them. This is no easy task because I am by very nature a selfish person (just like everyone else). I struggle to love others in the way that God has called us all to love.

In the end, Christ did not come to the flashiest house or the home with the best comforts that money could buy. He came to the home with the greatest amount of love; a love that was given freely and without expectation of return. As we eagerly anticipate the celebration of Christ's birth tomorrow let us focus for just a moment on the home we have built in our hearts and not the one we have decorated. Let us hold one another closer as Mary and Joseph did as they gazed at the innocent child before them. If we can, then we can give a new meaning the phrase "Merry Christmas".

Do You Believe in Miracles?

Whenever I read that question I am always reminded of it being shouted at the end of the famous Olympic showdown between the then Soviet Union and the United States hockey teams. The spontaneous outburst arose because the U.S. victory had been a huge surprise.

However the question once again becomes relevant during this advent season because we are called to ponder the same question. Let's face facts, we live in an age of science and technology where miracles have taken a backseat with mythology and fairy tales as many scientists claim to be able to solve all the mysteries of the universe and debunk the core beliefs of faith. Faith in miracles is presented as a contradiction to reason and logic.

So how then are we as Christians to respond? I believe the answer lies not in what we know and understand but rather in the incompleteness of our knowledge and the limited nature of our human experience. The burden lies not on faith to prove the existence of miracles but rather upon science to disprove them. These may seem like flawed arguments but nonetheless they do bring to the center the discussion about what Christmas truly means more than any "Jesus is the reason for the season" bumper sticker.

The celebration of Christ's birth is itself a central declaration of faith. One cannot be a Christian and deny the virgin birth. While the empty tomb challenges our notions of death and the possibility of Jesus conquering death, the empty manger would also present us with an equally difficult question as we wonder how else could God have come into the world? There are many parts to this argument presented by far more intelligent theologians than I but at the core lies one simple fact: God became man to share in man's experience, and through that sanctification of man's experience bring man back to the divinity he was supposed to share with God from the beginning. It is not that human beings become like God in the same way we attempted in the garden and the fall, but rather we attain the true life we were gifted with but relinquished through sin.

Our images of God have been found in countless forms across history. We find God as the father, the man with the white beard, the judge and all-powerful creator. These are often comfortable because they provide a distance between us and God. But when the word becomes flesh we find that the distance becomes zero. God has become man. God shares in our innocence and frailty, our vulnerability and suffering. Turning to that God, the one who has lived a life like us, save sin, is a much harder God to accept. This God limits himself, surrenders his divinity in a way we never could. He takes on a face like our own, one that cry, smile, and yes even laugh. That God is almost a little too close to home.

This Christmas our focus should be not just on the miracle but on the actual gift given to us by God. Christ's coming into the world signals not just the arrival of our savior, but the closeness that God desires from us. He doesn't want us to keep him at arms length. He wants us to hold him in our arms. He wants us to be a family.

The Light of the World

There are something that we see that defy the boundaries of cuteness. Yesterday I was privileged to see the prekindergarten class at my school do their telling of the Christmas story. What I found most interesting is that watching these little tykes engage one of the beautiful stories ever told genuinely fed my faith and made me focus spiritually on the reality of Jesus Christ having come into the world. Also, seeing our children participate in their faith gives us an assurance that our faith and traditions are being passed on to the next generation. The only downside is that when we see performances such as these we tend to focus on the storytellers and not the story. The familiarity of the story and the countless times we have heard it lends itself to experiencing the pride of a parent instead of the penitence of a hopeful sinner.

When they were done I began to relate to the parents and students present how watching these kids present this story made me immediately think of the birth of my own children. As a parent, you always remember the birth of your child. You remember the excitement tinged with anxiety and anticipation. The first moment you see your child's face freezes for an eternity as you look down and realize that your whole world, your definitions of life and love, have been shaken to their foundations. You may have never seen God but you are convinced that in this child's eyes God is present.

What I wanted them to see more than anything was that every birth is important to God, and going a step further, that every moment of creation of life is important to God. Christ could have chosen any way to come to us. But he chose the authentic human experience of the incarnation, of true innocence, humility, and vulnerability. As we journey to the day when we celebrate Jesus Christ coming into the darkness of our world we recognize just how bright his light truly is. It shatters the darkness.

Christ calls us to be the light of the world. I've told my students throughout this advent season that they are to intensify the light within them. They are to be lights to others, especially those who are in the darkness of despair and are without hope. This can be especially difficult when we are faced with tragedy. Personally I have struggled as I minister to those who have lost family and friends in this holiday season. But I know that darkness does not diminish the power of the light Christ is for us. If we focus on that light it will bring us closer to a God who longs to love us, to heal us, and to sustain us. The challenge for all of us remains to draw closer to that light, to embrace it, and to reflect that light to others.

Journey to the Light

With Thanksgiving securely behind us we now turn to the last and most important season left in the year: the shopping season. Of course I jest but I do so in a half-serious tone because for many people, even Christians, the season is less and less about the birth of Jesus Christ and more about the search for the perfect gift or purchase. It seemed to happen so subtly. We celebrated the advent season, a season of prayerful preparation towards that wonderful day where we commemorate the coming of our savior into the world, with songs and lessons about the the history and spirit of Christmas. We strove for ways to demonstrate how the love of God had touched us and how the gift of His Son had saved us by being charitable to others. But the gifts became more elaborate as the season became more commercialized. We found newer ways to shop, save money, and elicit that tell tale smile that lets us know that we have evoked a warm and fuzzy feeling in our loved one.

Then we began to succumb to the popular culture's desire to remove everything that is Christian from Christmas. They argued that Christmas was their holiday now. It didn't have to be about Jesus Christ. That was too narrow. It was about the "season of giving", that feeling we get inside that we get for doing a good deed. And while it is important to give we must acknowledge the greatest gift we have received (our salvation) and the greatest gift we can share (the love of God). So now sadly, Christmas has become an endangered holiday with countless distractions, anxiety over making the perfect dinner, decorating the perfect tree, and making the perfect memory.

The challenge then for Christians is to draw the focus away from the distractions back to the true meaning. I have been using an analogy all week with my students in chapel that I feel has edified both them and myself. Anytime we look up at the sky at night we are blessed to see a number of stars. But unfortunately most of us live in areas, both suburban and urban, that prevent us from seeing the brightest starts and even planets. To see them we must leave the comfort of the city and town to the country where the night sky is unchallenged by the light pollution. In a sense we remove the distractions, remove everything that was getting in the way of the light, to see what we were looking for all along. It is the same with this season. Can we be strong enough to push aside the materialism, the desire for self-fulfillment for the true focus of the season? Can we recognize the most brilliant light in the heavens that has come down to be one of us?

Each year I have seen so many people (I include myself in this guilty act) of loving a gift momentarily and then forgetting about it after a short while. That is the nature of the gifts we receive. We love for them a moment and then we love the next thing that comes along. But what if the gift of a savior, the gift we receive this season was meant to love us? What if that gift never lost interest or love for us? What if that gift came to reconnect us with a God who loves us as his wonderful creation made in His image? If we could recognize that gift under the tree then we wouldn't wish each other a "Merry Christmas". We would welcome each other as siblings in a reunited family. We would see the greatest light touch each of us in a way nothing else can.

Little Hands, Big Lessons

Just before the beginning of Thanksgiving break at the school it was my privilege to speak to the pre-kindergarten class at the school where I work. It has been my goal to redouble my efforts at making sure that I have some type of learning contact with every student in the school. This means that I have to make use of any opportunity possible to coordinate lesson plans on a variety of subjects and if I am lucky even be able to teach some values. In this case I was asked to work with this class on keeping their hands to themselves. Like all children really, they had gotten into the bad habit of hitting or pinching one another which is just not appropriate in any setting. They hadn't physically hurt each other but it is one of those behaviors that need to be nipped in the bud.

So the question arose, how would I teach these kids to use their hands for good things rather than for getting into trouble? I like being simple and straightforward with kids of a young age. It isn't because they are simple but rather because they are so straightforward and concrete. They don't think in the abstract yet so things really are black and white. My challenge was to teach them something without talking down to them (something that I abhor).

Walking in the students cheered as I sat down in the rocking chair. Whenever I come by this class we sing songs or they teach me something. Since my children are this age or approaching this age I feel like I am home and dealing with my own kids. I find that if you interact with kids in a way that they are comfortable with then you have a better chance to reaching them. In this case we did some circle time. I told them that because they were getting older I was going to teach them something new. I was going to teach them about hands. I asked them first what their hands could do that was good. They replied with the usual suspects like building things or making food. But what surprised me is that the when I asked the kids what are some bad things that hands can do they produced an exhaustive list which included hitting, punching, pinching, and pushing. I was impressed.

So how to explain to them the simple concept of "just keep your hands to yourself".

FIrst I had them look at their hands. I asked to look at their fingers, the shape of their hands and how while everyone has hands and they are all different everyone has the choice as to what they will do with their hands. I then told them that sometimes try to get a mind of their own and that they need to be told what to do. I had them hold out their hands and say forcefully "hands, you belong to me. You do what I say!". I know, I know, it sounds ridiculous but they did it. And when they did it I think that they saw for a moment how powerful our hands can be. OUr hands can create and destroy, and not just physical things. Our hands can help to heal or harm us spiritually. They can contribute to the positive of the world or help to cause its suffering.

The lesson for us adults (and children at heart) is that no matter our age, our hands are still a great responsibility. Think of what you do with your hands on a daily basis. Does it cause suffering or does it help others? Does it advance the kingdom of God or does it try to tear it down? If we look to our example in Christ we find someone who offered up his hands to healing, hard work, and eventually surrender to death itself. The scars on his hands are a testament to his willingness to give everything of himself in the service of those whom he loved.

I like to think that we will judged by how many scars we have on our hands. Do we have the scars of someone who has offered themselves up even if it meant we were going to suffer for it? Do we have the scars of being rejected for our faith? Or will our hands show someone who did everything in their power to avoid the hard things in the Christian life? If little hands can try to hear the message then perhaps those of us with bigger hands and bigger responsibilities can take that same lesson home.

picture from google images

Future Defenders of Human Life

Part of what makes the study of ethics so fascinating for me is that in order to get to the core of the issues at hand we must also recognize the people whom it effects. Ethical decisions do not occur in a vacuum but rather have real consequences on real people. At the same time we cannot allow our ethical decisions to be based on purely emotional responses. The study of ethics became real for me again as I entered into the discussion with students in a biology class. They were debating the question of whether or not the government should designate federal funding for stem cell research. If it did, the second question was whether or not it should place any restrictions on the types of cells used or how those cells were managed. With thousands of people suffering from diseases or conditions that would benefit from the application of future stem cell research it is no wonder why this debate has heated to the boiling point. The question for ethicists and for people of faith like myself is if the research being conducted is endangering human life in its earliest forms. The answer is invariably and unequivocally yes.

I did not come to this conclusion lightly. I came to this conclusion after looking at the scientific facts, understanding the nature of life itself and weighing the benefit versus the cost.

The scientific facts that I have been able to gather in studying this subject with this class is that there are two kinds of stem cells. The first are embryonic. And while many contend that these are the best stem cells for research they do require the destruction of a live embryo. Herein lies the debate. The second kind of stem cell are those taken from adults in areas such as bone marrow and other areas of the human body. These stem cells do not always provide the best opportunity for research but do not involve the moral quagmire that the use of embryonic stem cells causes.

My understanding of the nature of human life is that it begins at conception. I understand that is neither a comfortable or convenient conclusion for many people because it limits what science can research and many personal decisions we may be forced to make. However, understanding that life, even in its earliest form is life does prevent us as a society from taking the approach that life is only life when it is useful, or free from suffering, or able to conduct basic tasks. If any of these conditions are not met then the individual ceases to be classified as alive and can be disposed of, ignored, or worse. If for example we were to surmise that a person is a live when they are born then it opens the door to abortion. If we argue that a person is alive when they can express themselves, their sentience or intelligence, then we can have infanticide, euthanasia, or the killing of the mentally disabled. It is the epitome of a slippery slope.

The cost on the other side of this moral debate is not cheap. Many people are literally dying as they wait for this research to move forward. But I would ask if they would want another person to die so that they could live (and I do not mean as in an organ transplant where the donor's death has no relationship to the recipient's need).

In serving God and serving others I must look carefully and compassionately with everyone in this ethical situation. One thing I cannot afford to do is judge the motivations or circumstances of any other person. Instead I must listen before I can begin to educate and inform them of what might be God's will in their life. Too many times we have debated with others instead of inviting them to discussion. We inadvertently ignore their pain in the desire to be simply right.

What frightens me is that our children today are being taught so many conflicting lessons on the sanctity of human life. They are being taught that one life can be traded for another. It is very much the "culture of death". But the good news is that there will always be those who promote life. But that promotion must be compassionate and eager to listen to the circumstances of those who are suffering through these decisions.

The Harvest Is Plentiful

As part of my duties as chaplain at the Episcopal where I work I have been given the wonderful opportunity to guest lecture in several classes. I admit that I don't have the same knowledge of science that a science teacher would possess but that I am still able to offer a specific set of insights into the ethical and moral issues that science faces on a daily basis. I have always been a fan of the arts, humanities, history, and English, so being able to speak about faith, the history of Christianity, the literary tools of the scriptures and many other topics is enriching for me. I can only hope that it is enriching for the students subjected to my lessons!

Today was particularly interesting because I was given the task of discussing 1st century Christianity in Rome. In essence I was being asked to discuss the origins of Christianity, who this person known as Jesus was and what effect if any he has had on the world. I began by discussing some of the more factual aspects of their previous lessons as learned from the textbook. Once we had a background knowledge I was able to discuss the theological aspects that were not found in the book and to expound a little on what it might have meant for a first century Jew or follower of Jesus to hear and process these events.

What I received in return completely floored me. Of course there were some students who had no interest in what I was saying and were more intent on being disruptive than contributing to the conversation. Others however had insightful questions that demonstrated their ability to critically think through the issues of what it means to be Christian both for those who have gone before us and those of us who are believers today. They asked questions like "why would someone lay down their life for this belief?". They also asked "What appealed to the apostles that they were willing to leave everything they knew and follow Jesus?". Any person who works in ministry longs to hear these questions. They are the questions of someone who has opened their hearts and minds to the possibility of seeing the world in a new way. It means that they are open to accepting Jesus Christ.

The only thing that saddened me was that many of these students had little or no knowledge of who Jesus was or what he taught. They had the vague notions of "the Good Shepherd", or the "the Savior", but they were abstract concepts not ones that they could take to heart. The discussion culminated when I described the relationship we are called to have with God as a covenant, a marriage of hearts, and not just an obligation that we fulfill. They had no context in which to understand this love. If they had, they certainly weren't able to access it.

Today's lesson gave me hope as well as worried me. As Jesus said, the harvest is plentiful. The number of people who are truly ready to hear the Good News of the Gospels is many. But how many of us are willing to accept the role of harvester? How many of us in our daily lives are ready and open enough to share our faith with those who need it more than they need the air around them to breathe? The challenge in the future will be finding hands that are ready to drop everything and work. My question to all of us is thus: "What are you holding in your hands that you are not willing to let go of for Christ?"

An Attitude of Gratitude

The following is the text from my lesson to the Upper School Chapel for Thanksgiving

Next week is Thanksgiving. I can hardly believe that how fast this semester has gone by. We’ll blink once and it will be Christmas. We’ll blink again and it will be graduation.

Sadly, thanksgiving has become a lost holiday of sorts. We gather as a family, eat lots of food, watch some football, and if you’re anything like my extended family avoid meaningful conversation with each other at all costs. Giving thanks then consists of going around the table and saying how thankful we are for our family, the food in front of us, and of course this day of thanks. But I can assure you that none of us has gone nearly far enough.

A professor of mine once counseled me about having “an attitude of gratitude”. It means that instead of paying lip service to how thankful we are about something to instead demonstrate it.

If you’re thankful for the food you eat, by all means please tell the person who made it thank you. But also make sure that the person who cooked the wonderful mean doesn’t also clean up the mess. And of course never forget that the best way to show gratitude for our daily bread is to find ways to share it with those who have no food at all.

If you’re thankful for your family and friends, please tell them how much you appreciate them. Find little ways to return the love they have so unselfishly given to you. And of course never forget to show love to those who have no friends or family at all, especially this time of year.

And if you are thankful for your education, for the opportunities that are being placed before you, for the fact that you are alive, please tell your teachers, coaches and God “thank you”. But don’t ever forget that a demonstration of that thanks is what you do with the knowledge you have gained here, and what you will accomplish with that opportunities set before you. How you live this life gifted to us by our creator is the gift you give to him in return.

So enjoy next week’s festivities; the food, the family and football. And keep that attitude of gratitude with you always.

picture from www.whatscookingamerica.net

It Won't Be Easy

On Sunday our priest delivered a great sermon on one of most confusing pieces of scripture that I have ever read. It is the Gospel reading in Luke where the disciples marvel at the splendor of the temple and Jesus tells them that one day "not one stone will be left on another". The disciples of course were shocked about this they kept asking how this was going to happen. Jesus used this as an opportunity to help them see that following Him, taking up their cross was not going to be easy. In fact, it could probably cost them their lives. This isn't exactly what they wanted to hear but it was the truth. As Christians today I wonder if we hear this message enough. Or rather do we cling to the feelings of joy and completeness that our union with God can bring and ignore the great responsibility we have as evangelizers and servants?

One of the roles of a Christian that has been on my heart the most lately has been that of evangelizer. There are couple of people who I am trying to serve by introducing them to Christ and helping them understand who he was and what role he can have in their life. But I also feel awkward in that I am not always telling them how hard it can be to be Christian. Do we sometimes lead with the best and then tell them the rest later? I think that first we have to tell people who Christ is and what he has done for us. After that we must demonstrate, not just tell them, how hard it can be to live the Christian life. With the people I am serving now I want them to see my struggles, not just my successes. I want them to see the great things that God has done through me even though I am sinful and unworthy of his love. I hope that in seeing that they will see that while the Christian life can be arduous that it is ultimately fulfilling because it is how we grow closer to God. In essence we realize that Christ has made the way for us, had paid the price for us, and calls us back to the Father who longs only to love us.

Whether or not the people I evangelize to will see that I do not know. I can only hope that the Holy Spirit will always be present in what I say and what I do.

Conquering the Wall

On Monday I was able to attend the first day of the Freshmen retreat to the DaySpring Episcopal Conference Center. I had really had little idea what to expect because while I knew that they were doing something called the "high ropes" course I had no concept of what that meant. I knew that the goal of the retreat was to build teamwork and cohesion across group lines among this class. I was eager to see how they worked together and if they were able to be vulnerable and open to being challenged. I was pleasantly surprised.

The day began early and as we arrived at Dayspring I began to understand my role as complimentary to the work being done a by an excellent group known as "Pathfinders". They would be running the activities and as chaperones we were being asked to help supervise and ease the transition from one group to another. If we wanted to go one step further we could help by participating in the activities and modeling them for the students, as long as we didn't come up with the answers.

The first few team building exercises were humorous as tasks as simple as balancing a hula hoop with just one finger became an arduous task of communication and coordination. Over time I began to see leaders emerge, as well as those individuals who had great communication skills but were just a little shy.

After lunch, we walked out to the high ropes and my mouth fell aghast as I looked up at the 40 ft tall revenger wall. Would I do this? Could I do this?

One thing I have learned since my 20's is that you must take risks. You must put yourself out there in order to succeed. And if you should happen to fail then you will have gained a valuable lesson. Either way, you have to do it. I felt as if I had to no choice but to participate, to test myself and to allow those present to see that all of us are challenged and need to keep trying. I watched other students attempt the climb. For some it proved to be to difficult and they couldn't make it up passed the initial netting. For others, the climb seemed to second nature and the completed it quickly. However, there was one student who took his time and didn't let the initial desire to quit keep him from trying. He stuck with it and conquered the wall, his smile beaming from the top of the platform.

So when it was finally my turn I looked up at the wall and gulped. I am not the strongest man in the world. I have climbed a version of these walls before but nothing this difficult. I began the climb confident and started making way up steadily. But then I hit a roadblock as I could not reach the next handhold. My hands struggled to keep a grip and I could not leverage myself up. Eventually I had to give up and admit defeat.

My students still cheered me on as I came down. They were impressed that I had endeavored to even try the climb. Those who had not completed it empathized with me and I felt a bond develop. I wasn't ashamed that I hadn't reached the summit. I relearned the lesson that I need to learn everyday. I can't do certain things on my own. This life, this vocation I have will never be accomplished without God's help, without the help of good Christian people to support me. Even when I fall I know that God is there to catch me. And if the fall is especially painful then I know that he is there to help me get back up again.

I am happy that I got to learn those lessons with my students. I hope that we all keep them for years to come.

A Message to My Senior Students

Each fall students across the country submit tens of applications to colleges and universities. The ones who work so hard on each essay, study extra hours for standardized tests and join extra curricular activities feel the burden most of all. They feel as if a piece of themselves is going out with each application and that if they aren't accepted that it is they who are being rejected and not just their qualifications. This broke my heart a bit because I had been through this process in the last couple of years when I applied to graduate school for my doctorate in Theology or Religious Studies. I wanted these students to see that they were made beautifully in God's image and that they were not just a test score or essay. The sermon I gave in chapel reflected that. Here it is below.


Upper School Chapel

This year colleges and universities across the country will receive a record number of applications. One top tier school received over 37,00 applications. However, the reality is that only that they can accept only 7% to their freshmen class. I don’t have to tell you that the competition is fierce, that the pressure to achieve is nearly overwhelming and that in an instant your hopes can be dashed and your self-confidence shaken.

I bring this up because I have seen the stress on many of your faces. It’s the same look that every high school student will wear at some point in their career here. I’ve seen you working hard to juggle applying to a number of schools while staying focused on your classes and extra curricular activities.

The message I want to deliver this morning is simple. You are more than a college application. You are not a test score or an essay. You are not a resume or recommendation letter.

In the spring of 2009 I began the process of applying to graduate schools in the hopes of earning my doctorate in theology or religious studies. I believed that becoming a professor would have been the greatest accomplishment of my life. I applied to Boston College as my first choice and Florida State (my alma mater) as my backup. I flew to Boston in the dead of winter for my campus visit, met every professor and tried to make the best first impression I could. I visited FSU and did the same thing. I came home confident that I would be accepted somewhere. I even prayed to God that he would give me this dream. And then I waited. I waited for what seemed like an eternity.

When I got the rejection letters I was disheartened and dumbfounded. Had they not liked me? Was I not good enough for them? Why had God not given me this? After some soul searching and prayer I did two things.

1. I threw away the 30 year plan that I had written for my life which outlined everything that I would accomplish and everywhere I would go. I decided to let the God of surprises, the God who guides and loves, who knows what is best for me into what I was doing. I opened myself open to being challenged and taken in directions I could never have imagined.

2. I put the letters on the fridge. My wife asked “why?” I told her that those letters were just one view about me from people I barely knew, people who barely knew me. I wasn’t going to let them define who I was.

I stand before you today convinced I did the right thing. I let God lead me to my vocation, to this school, to this moment with all of you. And I have never been happier.
So to all of you in the thick of college apps, or who will be one day soon, I encourage you to look closely at who you are, someone wonderfully made in the image of God, not a test score, not an essay. You.

End Sermon.


This world will always try to define us by something other than our true identity. If I had to say what my identity was I would say husband, father, son and brother. But the first way I would identify myself is "Child of God". That is who made me. That is who sustains me.

What is a Saint?

Here is the text from the sermon I gave during today's All Saints Day Chapel at the school where I am a chaplain.


All Saints Day Sermon

The number one question that I get asked on All Saints Day is “Chaplain, did you bring any candy from Halloween?”

The number two question I get asked is “Who or what is a saint?” What's most amazing is that the answer is simple to learn but very difficult to accept.

The definition of a saint that I learned growing up was that a saint was a person who did two things. The first was that they admitted that they needed God, that they recognized their imperfections and their sinfulness. The second was that when God called them, they said yes.

Like I said, it sounds simple. But it's harder than we think.

When we look at the saints of history, the saints that are celebrated by the church they all have one thing in common: they were sinful and imperfect people. They were liars, thieves, cheaters, and sometimes worse. They weren't people who walked around with halos around the top of their heads. But they also had a moment when they felt God's presence. It could have been at a time when they feared for their lives, or just a moment when they hit rock bottom and they prayed for God to save them. No matter what it was, they felt God's presence in a special way and accepted his love. They allowed that love to transform them, to change them into people who were still sinners, but who were willing to try and live a good life that focused on helping people rather than hurting them.

That brings us to the second part of being a saint; saying yes when God called. For some saints it meant choosing to become a priest or other religious person. For others it meant traveling halfway around the world to bring the Good news about God and Jesus to people who had never heard it. For others it meant sacrificing their lives for what they believed in. But they said yes no matter the cost.

I think this ties in perfectly with today's Gospel. Jesus is giving this beautiful sermon to a group of people and utterly confusing them. He is saying, blessed are you who are poor, or blessed are you who are being hated. I don't know about you but being poor or hated doesn't sound very blessed to me. But you have to look at the second half of his statements. If you are poor, the kingdom of God is yours. And if you are being hated, rejoice because your reward is great in heaven. Jesus is saying that the choice to follow him, the choice to follow God isn't easy. You will encounter resistance. You will suffer. You will have times when you aren't accepted. But if you persist your rewards will be great.

Now here is where this gets interesting. The only difference between the saints of the past that we revere and all of us today? They are dead and we are alive. We are all sinners and we are all faced with the same choice that they were. So the challenge becomes: will we accept the invitation? Will we be willing to say yes when so many others around us say no? It can be as simple as choosing how you treat everyone around you.

It's easy to think of names like Mother Theresa and Saint Francis of Assissi. They give such great examples of holiness that have inspired millions of people around the world. People have written books about them. But it's harder to recognize the saints whose names we don't know, like the teacher who stays after school to work with a struggling student, or a parent who sits and reads a story to their child after a grueling day of work, or the student who encourages another student through a difficult time. They are all saints.

I like to think that the reason it's called All Saints day is because we are all saints, not just for a day though. We are all called to be saints throughout our lives, to say yes to a God who is inviting us.

In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus offers a parable which is one of my favorites. He tells the story of a man who is throwing a huge banquet. He sends his servants out to tell all his guests that everything is ready. But instead of coming, they all make excuses. They all have something better to do. So he sends his servants out again and brings in the poor, the lame, those who have nothing at all to offer in payment. My brothers and sisters. We are those poor, and lame who have been invited but can’t pay. The question is, will we offer excuses as to why we can’t go? Or will you accept the invitation?

End Sermon.

At first, writing this sermon didn't make me think too much about my own call by God to be a saint. It was only when I began to see the way that God had called me in my role as a chaplain for these students and indeed the whole school that I realized I had to reflect further. I had students come to me with their personal problems and I guided teachers through their own issues as well. I saw how the love of God worked through people, lay and ordained, and how that love is so abundant. Yet if we don't accept it, it can be in dangerously low supply. What is a saint? To me it is a person who is willing to lay down their live, spiritually or literally, for God. It means to say "Yes, I will accept this love and then immediately give it to others." If that is a saint then I want to be one.

A Chaplain and A Postulant

I always hate starting my blog posts with the following phrase: "It has been so long since I last wrote here and there is so much to talk about." The usual excuses are offered and an apology is rendered as well but in the end the most that I can do is struggle to get back on the horse reveal more about my journey to those who are willing to read and observe.

Much has changed (Okay one last cliche phrase!) since I last wrote. I am no longer simply a nominee but have now attained the status of a postulant for Holy Orders. This means that I can not apply to seminary and begin more work in earnest in ministry. It has been a unique experience because not only have I been involved in my parish (albeit not enough), I am now working as a chaplain at a private Episcopal School in Bradenton Florida. The role sounds simple: Be present in the chapel and on campus for 640 students ages 3-18 as well as the faculty staff and administration. How could that possibly be complicated?

The truth is that it is very challenging, but it has also been extremely rewarding. The privilege of being a part of this community and in helping educate and minister to this group of youngsters has opened my eyes to new ideas about worship, counseling, and what it means to be young. But more than anything it has also opened my eyes to how mysteriously God works in our lives to give us opportunities to help and love one another. I hope that in the school year that remains that I can take each of these opportunities to heart and grow in them. I am eager to continue my work.

Ordination Preview

About a week ago I was asked to be the Master of Ceremonies for a friend's ordination to the transitional diaconate. It was the last step on her journey towards priesthood in the Celtic Christian Church, an independent Catholic Church. I agreed without hesitation because I remembered the great times we had shared at Saint Leo University in the graduate theology program. Truth be told I had never been to an ordination so this would be a learning experience for me as much as it would be her and most of the people participating.

The more I began to think about the ceremony the more I realized that it was kind of like a preview of my own ordination to the diaconate (hopefully). I wanted to use this opportunity to reflect not only on my own experiences in the Episcopal Church but on how other Christian traditions approached this sacred ministry. What I learned was that I felt truly anchored in my own tradition and that even though people had told me time and again that ordination was the beginning of the journey and not the end I had seen that maxim come true before my eyes.

It wasn't the wonderful homily or the scripture readings. Rather, it was coming together of the community of faithful in presenting someone for the responsibility and blessing of ministry that made the most impression upon me. The community itself was invited to come and lay hands on the ordinand and pray for her new ministry, showing support and love for the way in which she was offering herself to God.

When the ordination was completed, I found one phrase staying with me. It was not a phrase that anyone said during the service. Instead it was one that I felt the Holy Spirit had placed upon my heart. It was that God wanted soft and ready clay to mold. He doesn't call completed people or perfect people, or even equipped people. Rather, God calls those people who are willing to change for God, to become the person He has faith they can be. I never want to see myself as a finished project, not as a person and certainly not as an aspiring priest. I am aware that my greatest enemy is apathy.

I pray for my friend in her new ministry as I know that she prays for me in my continued formation. My greatest desire is not to be a priest, it is to do what God wills for my life.

Project Bachelor Party

One thing which I am learning very quickly is that when it comes to your vocation, your call, everyone can and will have an opinion about your choice, what it means and of course you as a person after having made that choice.

This became most evident on a recent trip to Chicago for a good friends bachelor party. Our group was close knit having known each other for at least ten years and as many as twenty years. We were ecstatic for our friend who had found a great girl and who now could have a proper sendoff into married life. From the moment my attendance was discussed the jokes began about a “priest” going to a bachelor party and what it mean for the party as a whole. Would I be hesitant to join in the festivities or would I be wilder than the rest. My Vicar had told me to enjoy myself, having attended numerous stag parties in his day. It wasn't a carte blanche to engage in any risque activity but rather an understanding that there is a way in which one goes about things, recognizing limits and always learning life lessons.

When we arrived and began the activities our group constantly identified me to any girl we met as a priest. I emphasized that this was premature as I would not be stepping near ordination before another year and a half. Either way, I wasn't wearing a collar and certainly was not going to be performing any sacraments at the party. I'll have to admit that I was a little annoyed that this became the identifying punchline for my presence but then I realized a few things:

The first was that these close friends of mine had busted my chops over everything any of us had ever done and this would be no different. The fact that it was the but of jokes meant that they realized that was a real part of my life. The other thing it signaled was that by calling me that they saw this as my chosen vocation, someone I could really be. Of course, I shouldn't be seeking heaping mounds of validation for my vocation but seeing that these close friends who had been with me through tragedy and triumph saw me as a man of God touched me in a way I cannot describe.

The singular problem I faced with this was one that I felt they could not entirely understand. Even though they were my close friends with whom I had shared everything this vocation my own, something that no one else could live for me. So as we ran through several bars, collected outrageous requests for our friends bachelor party shirt, and identified beautiful women I felt awkward because that part of me seeking a vocation felt at odds with what I was doing. Of course there are rationalizations, reasonings, and excuses that provide the shade under which we go about our normal behavior claiming that we are conscious of God's presence while we conduct ourselves in a questionable way. But in the end it all serves to make us look at the bigger picture. Through it all we remained faithful to our relationships, our vows, and gave thanks for the communion we had shared in our years as friends.

In looking back at this trip I see that there just as many ways one's vocation and Christian life as there are rays of sunshine painting the earth. Do we remain strict and steadfast in our faith, excluding ourselves from friends and family because of where they go? Or do we serve as a good example of brotherhood and the ability to understand where all people come from in their experiences? Do we judge ourselves or do we humble ourselves and see that we are judged by our actions by the almighty? Do we see the faithfulness of our hearts to a loving and forgiving God or do we fear a God who forgives nothing no matter how small the offense? The answer is complicated but you can see how I feel through the way in which I have phrased the questions. I told our impending groom that this wasn't just his last hurrah but my own as well. I said this tongue in cheek but in reality I learned that the world which we had visited, the world of temptation and libation was not a world in which one resided, and after a certain age and domestic dedication, it was not a world we visited either. For myself, I find that I no longer wish to visit that place. The one lesson I have brought with me into my discernment to the priesthood, and a lesson that I continually hone is that the people we meet, no matter the shape, accent, or personality is human; a fragile human being created in God's image. With that firmly in my place, I can look back at the people I met, the conversations I had and see what lies underneath. It is the stuff of the soul and it is what I live for.

I return now to my lovely wife and beautiful children, thankful for what I have and the life I am living. I am thankful that my friend is headed in that direction. I am thankful for the trials he will face with his future wife that will only serve to bring them closer. I see the trials that I have faced with my wife and find them to be the glue that binds us. The bonds of love found there are not easily forgotten and it is those memories that inspire us to return to our families with earnest.

Finding My Voice Again

There are few moments as adults when we truly wish we were kids again. I don't mean the usual times like when we hate work or just reminisce about what Christmas morning used to feel like. Rather, I mean when we wish we could experience something as children because it is just plain easier. I am now two weeks into my recovery from having my tonsils removed. It is not something that I would recommend for the faint of heart. Keep in mind that I am a bit of a baby as my wife will surely attest to. But when I began this process with my doctors about inquiring into a way to end my endless throat infections I was optimistic about it being simple. My surgeon did warn me that it would not be a walk in the park and several older parishioners regaled me with tales of their experiences in the 1940's and 1950's with kitchen tables, ether, and cold steel. Needless to say that I was glad I lived in the 21st century.

I have always believed that no matter what the experience, a person can gain some valuable insight on their life and their faith. In this experience I learned to appreciate the relationships I have with my parents and my wife. I recognized the compassion and gentleness they had for me as I tried to regain my strength, dealt with enormous amounts of pain, and was frustrated.

But this experience has also made me think about those who have no one to care for them. I had my tonsils out. I didn't have open heart surgery or a bone marrow transplant. My biggest annoyance was not being able to french fries for a couple of weeks. I can't begin to fathom the loneliness or frustration felt by parents or children, patients and doctors over diseases and ailments that have no cure, that cause so much suffering and attempt to compromise our dignity. I think about how fortunate I am. I think about the two good hands and feet I have and the brain that works (most of the time). I think about the opportunity I have to help people. That's when I think about becoming a priest.

So now I am in the stage where I wait for my voice to return to what it was before the surgery. It won't be near what I am used to or what I need for my work for at least another two or three weeks. In that time, I'll take that opportunity to listen more and to talk less. I'll take that time to think about what I want to teach others in my preaching and to listen to some good preachers. I'll learn what it means to serve from those who have so graciously served me.

A Holy Week Experiment.

This passed Holy Week I spoke with my rector and mentor about conducting an experiment. I wanted the opportunity to shadow him and get the experience a priest undergoes in serving his congregation during the last and most important week of Lent. It would mean working with him from morning to night and spending more time away from home for work than I had in a long time. I talked about it with Roxanne and she agreed that for both of us I needed this experience.

Father Andrew laid it out for me plainly. I was to help him with the 10am and 7pm services. In the meantime I would accompany him or be in charge of the various hospital visits. That means I would have the opportunity to give communion, pray with, or in some cases pray over the sick. It was clear that this was going to be a challenge but one I was eager to embrace and live up to.

My overall experience was positive. I learned a few things about myself and about my desire to be a priest. I learned that as a persons I need to be less afraid of what I want and make a greater effort to expresss what I want. Those who love me won't leave me just because I to fulfill a need of my own or attend to a work obligation. i also learned that my desire to be a priest is stronger than ever. I love helping peoplef and bringing them the love of Christ when they feel alone or scared. I love it not because it is an ego boost but because I feel like I am gving to others what God has so generously given to me.

The next few months are going to see new challenges as I begin my Clinical Pastoral Education. I know that I don't know enough about helping the sick and dying. I need to learn more so I can be more.

I also learned that one of the greatest challenges to achieving my professional and spiritual goals will be staying true to my family obligations. I love my wife and children so much and I only want them to be happy and know that they are loved. Making sure that I am true to them is one of my biggest priorities.

My First Holy Week

Well it isn't my first Holy Week. I've been observing Holy Week almost all of my life. But this Holy Week is different than any other. This is the first Holy Week since I began discerning the priesthood, since I began my training my rector. I have decided to shadow him for the entire week, attending every service, and every home and hospital visitation. This will mean some long days and tired nights. But hopefully it will give myself and my family some valuable into what my future life as a priest might be like.

I know that it won't be easy for me or my family but I think it helps me to understand the enormity of the job I am hoping to undertake and the strain it will present on my wife and children. But I also think that it will be an opportunity for my family and to grow with one another after Holy Week in the break that follows.

So I've been given the opportunity to preach and to do the stations of the cross. I am definitely nervous, most definitely apprehensive, but nonetheless excited about the opportunity to serve. Lately I had grown worried about my preparation about paying attention to the details. But now more than anything I want to pay attention to the worship I am offering to God and the thanks I have for just being his. That is the most important thing.

Growing up, I loved Holy Week. Now I find myself loving it more.

People are People Too

One of the most interesting aspects in our society is the intense categorization found within how we understand and deal with people. This is of course necessary. Human curiosity and the need to understand the world around us inevitably causes us to classify people places and things. It helps us to see the difference between the Bengal tiger and the Butterfly.

But this categorization can also get our of control and blind our eyes to the simplest of realities before us. In God's Church there are many different people with many different personalities and gifts. But they all have one thing in common. They are all people. They are all beautifully made in God's image. He did not make a mistake in creating them. And just as he loving made them, he sustains their life. His love also does not wax and wane with the "quality" of their life.

I was blessed to begin volunteering at a nursing home yesterday. My first task was to begin a bible study and then go upstairs to the level where they keep the Alhzeimer's patients. I had no idea what to expect before I arrived. I didn't know how lucid these people would be or how able they would be to be able to participate. In that moment, I made a key error. I didn't think of them as people. I thought of them as old people. I thought of them as elderly people. I stopped thinking of them as children of God.

In the scriptures we read that "wherever two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in your midst". Jesus wasn't specifying young people, or intelligent people. He wasn't setting a standard for a particular level of theological expertise.

The bible study itself was not as fruitful as I had hoped in that we didn't to discuss the scripture very much. But I didn't miss the point. We gathered together to praise God and to enjoy listening to his word. That was what he had wanted that day and we accomplished that.

As we go forward in ministry we must remember that there are too many labels for people. Our Christian brothers and sisters are not entries on an excel spreadsheet. They are human beings with souls loved by God in a way we cannot begin to understand. If we remember that, then we will be his people.

Congressional Hearing #1

In the Diocese of Southwest Florida where I reside and where I am pursuing ordination to the priesthood, the process whereby one gains consideration for ordained ministry has changed significantly in the last few years. And while I welcome the changes that normalize and standardize the process I have to admit that it doesn't make it any less stressful or intimidating. As part of the new process, the nomination that comes from the parish must be decided after three meeting where four parish members, an individual the person seeking ordination has never met, and the head of the commission on ministry. These are all good and Godly people who only want the best for me and for the diocese.

But sitting there across from all of them being asked questions about my history, my call to vocation and how I will handle the pressures of being a priest is a little nerve-wracking. It isn't that I am uncomfortable sharing my faith. It isn't that I don't know the answers. Rather, it's that contrary to the belief of so many people, I don't like being the center of attention. I like listening to others, not necessarily talking myself. What made me most nervous was the head of the commission on ministry nodding his head as I spoke. Was he agreeing with what I was saying? Or was he saying to himself "Yep. This guy is crazy!"

I'm not trying to overanalyze everything. It's more centered on feelings of inadequacy. My Christian story is special to me. I have no idea if it would be all that special or interesting to anyone else. I know there is no mold for a priest, but it would be nice to know how some of these people feel about my call to vocation.

I am overanalyzing everything. My Christian story is special. It's special because it's special to God. It's not the drama or action of a story that makes it powerful in God's eyes. Instead, it's the love that God has for us in offering that salvation and forgiveness in the first place that makes our journey to Him special. These people want to hear about how I fell in love with God, how I surrendered my heart to his love. If I tell them that, then I cannot say wrong.

Two more meetings to go. I'll make sure to wear extra deodorant.

My First Farewell

Today I was blessed to be able to assist my pastor in conducting a memorial service for an older parishioner who had died. I had never helped perform a memorial service and had only been to a handful of funerals. I had no idea what to expect. What I received was a blessed experience that helped me see what it means for people to appreciate and celebrate the life a person they loved who has gone to be with Christ.

Though there were several people present it didn't matter the number. What mattered was the sentiment they shared in their remarks about how that person, through their Christian example, was able to help them grow as Christians in their love of God and service to Christ. My pastor commented that this was the best comment of her life that we could make.

It made me immediately think of my life and the life of those close to me. I thought of my mother, without whom my vocation to the priesthood would never have occurred to me. I thought of my father and how he has hardened his heart over the years to God's love. It made me think of my own life, the long path I have ahead of me. It made me think of what I wanted people to think of me. I used to worry about being remembered as wealthy or famous or even "a good person". But really, I just want Christ to remember me when my time comes. If people do remember me, then I want it to be as someone of faith who truly loved everyone he met. As you can see, I have lots of work to do!

When Ministry Becomes Real

Last Wednesday I was given my first opportunity to accompany my pastor on his sick calls. I have to admit that I was more than nervous. It was a mixture of excitement and anxiety in that I wondered how I would react to meeting people who were in physical and spiritual need. I knew that this would help me to either strengthen my resolve about my vocation to the priesthood or illuminate my heart in a different direction.

Our mission that day was to visit two people who were in assisted living facilities, or nursing homes. My pastor told me to pay close attention to the two very different facilities where these people were living and the type of spiritual care they were looking for. Since I had never been to one I thought of the worse experiences I had heard from other relatives and cringed.

The first place we visited had a lovely woman in high spirits. Her husband was visiting and we were there to bring her communion as well as check in on her and keep her company for a short while. She was pleasant to be around and I wondered how she was really feeling and what her ailment was. She smiled at me and encouraged me on what I was doing. Later, someone at the church told me that she was happy to have met me and that I could stop by anytime.

The next visit was to a man I had met once or twice before at the church. He was funny, high-spirited, and more than anything, interesting. But from the first moment we parked the car in front of the nursing home I knew that this facility would not be as glamorous as the last. The first place had had a light about it. It had cheerful walking around and the residents were engaged in various activities. This place was sadder, with residents in wheelchairs stationed outside their rooms or in hallways grouped together like a herd.

When we walked into the room I saw our friend laying on his back half asleep. He told us a joke but struggled through saying the words. As he received communion he wept a little. You could tell that he was scared and a little lonely with almost no one to visit him. I spoke to the man sharing his room and found him to be someone who desperately needed mental stimulation and interaction with people. But that wasn't happening much either.

Overall, I found the experience to be a sorely needed dose of reality in a world where ministry and service are abstract ideas. If my goal as a priest was to serve these people, then these and even worse situations were the ones I would have to embrace. In my heart I found myself embracing them. I found myself moved over what these people were feeling and what they were suffering. I wanted not just to be there for them but also to let them know that their faith was something real that they could depend on in this time.

I have much to learn. I want to open my heart and learn.

A New Year, A New Mission

At the beginning of this year I reflected on the progress I had made as a person and more importantly as a Christian. Of course these two go hand in hand but it is vital to examine how being a Christian makes us a better person. This is to answer all those who witness Christians around the world claiming to be followers of Jesus but performing sinful and often unspeakable acts. And while it is undoubtedly not my place to judge I must vehemently suggest that those who act contrary to what Christ preached fall into two distinct categories: those who are in fact not Christian though they claim to be and those who are in fact Christian but have failed in their mission to follow Jesus Christ.

In examining my conscience, my actions and failures to act I must place myself in the second category. My desire is to follow Christ but I fall short again and again. I say this with both a contrite heart and a resolve to do better and be better. If I did not admit these failings in this context then I could never hope to love God with all my heart, mind, and soul, and love my neighbor as myself.

In looking ahead to the pursuit of my vocation I see that my mission to be a Christian and a better person are even more closely linked than I had ever thought before. As a priest I am a man of God who is dedicated to His service. But I am also a simple man who is trying to witness to others the good Christ has done in me.

The conclusion follows that we are never to allow any virtues we successfully practice, good deeds we perform, or graces that God bestows upon us to make us forget the depravity in which we once lived and could easily return to were it not for the grace and blessings of God.

As I said before, I am not offering a new resolution for the year. I am merely seeking to strengthen my resolve: to be a better man and a better Christian for I know I am not a strong example of either.