Homily from My Vow Mass

I've been wanting to upload this audio file to my blog for quite some time, and I figured I'd use this restless night as a time to do that.

Over the past few weeks, I've been occasionally re-listening to the homily from my Vow Mass in August '08 by my current provincial, Fr. Pat Lee. I find this prayerful recording to be a source of great wisdom that helps me more firmly ground my understanding of this vowed life I live.

The scriptural references come from Daniel 3:39-42 and Mark 12:28-34

My Class Schedule

Since I am currently missioned to study philosophy, I thought I would share my class schedule this semester. We are already two weeks in, but I am thinking that this current semester will be my most difficult semester here at Fordham. After this semester, I hope never to take four classes again in the MAPR program. (It's a bad sign when you feel stressed the first week of classes)

Anyway, I thought I would give little excerpts from my syllabi:

Nineteenth Century Philosophy (required):
"Situated between Kant's Copernican revolution and Nietzsche's perspectivism, the nineteenth century experienced a radical questioning of the nature of truth and human understanding. The major reflections on the problem did not occur primarily in the abstract discourse of epistemological theory but in the concrete discourses of religious, social, and cultural critique."

I will be reading in this class from Hegel, Marx, Kierkegaard, and Nietzsche.

Philosophy of Literature (elective):
"Philosophy of Literature is a doctoral-level graduate course devoted to examining central questions pertaining to the philosophical assessment of literature and the relationship between philosophy and literature as contested since the beginnings of the Western philosophical traditions...Issues to be addressed include the autonomy of literature, the nature of literary language, the distinction between poetry and prose, the relation of literature to history, the distinctions among literary, scientific, and everyday language, ontological and phenomenological accounts of the literary work of art, and, quite prominently, the status of author and reader in the constitution of the literary work."

Most of the philosophers I will be reading here fall under the realm of Continental Philosophy.

Introduction to the New Testament (elective):
"In this course we will study the origins of Christianity by analyzing its most important literature, now known as the New Testament, in historical context. Theological themes--such as doctrine of God, Christology, sin and salvation--will occupy our attention as they arise in the texts, but they are not our only concern. We will also explore issues of social history, contemporary hermeneutics, religious identity formation, Jewish-Christian relations, gender and sexuality, and political power."

We are reading a lot here.

Analysis for Ministry (required):
"Analysis for Ministry" is meant to foster the reflective habit and analytic ability called for by the Society (of Jesus). This course will attempt to bring faculty together from across the curriculum in order to engage students in a vigorous conversation on social justice and the methods of social and cultural analysis in the Christian tradition. The seminar will begin with a reading of the entire corpus of papal encyclicals on Catholic social doctrine. The course will then progress to relate the principles of this extensive body of magisterial teaching to theology and to economics."

We have about 5 professors team teaching this course. This course helps to form our "habit of reflection in a serious and systematic way on the experience of our human condition in the light of the Gospel."

I think overall that this should be a good semester content wise, but I just need to be able to keep up with the mounds of work already piling up for myself.

The Event with the Divine Word

Prayer is an event, a special time that brings us into relationship with God--God whom the faithful believe to be very present to us in the here and now.

When we read the bible, or listen to the Word proclaimed at Mass, I believe it is important how we relate to those words on the page or how we listen to the spoken word. Scripture is not simply an occasion in which we figure out what happened to God's people in the past or read about the historical acts of Christ. Of course, there is significance to such an interpretive reading. Yet, in the reading or in the listening, there is also that greater faith element of believing in the immediacy of God's real presence. In those acts, God is speaking to us.

One of the richest Gospel passages for me was read a few days ago: the parable of the sower. We listen from Mark 4:

"Hear this! A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seed fell on the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Other seed fell on rocky ground where it had little soil. It sprang up at once because the soil was not deep. And when the sun rose, it was scorched and it withered for lack of roots. Some seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it and it produced no grain. And some seed fell on rich soil and produced fruit. It came up and grew and yielded thirty, sixty, and a hundredfold. He added, 'Whoever has ears to hear ought to hear.'"

Of course, one way to read this passage is just to skim read it and to glance its meaning. "Okay, plant your seed in fertile ground...duh" You hear it, you've "attained" its meaning, and then you forget about it. In this type of reading, has God's word really taken root?

Those religious who have written about the formal prayer of Lectio Divina understood the significance of prayer as an event. In the slow reading or hearing of a text, they understood prayer to be a means in which God can take root in us, to form us and to shape us, to change us into who we are fully meant to be. We allow God to speak, and we challenge ourselves to actually listen.

In an increasingly technological age of efficiency in which our greatest commodity is our time, the deficiency of our culture is our inability to pause, to be still, and to listen. I say that, because I understand the effects technology has had on my own life--the power of television and computers and iPods, to name a few. It's quite hard nowadays to think of a world without electricity and technology, but those days did indeed exist. I'm sure the experience and relation our ancestors had to time was far different from our experience now. Five minutes can seem like an eternity to us--I'm not sure they would have experienced time like that in the same way.

When I ask my 7th graders to sit silently for a few minutes in prayer, I see how extremely difficult it is for many of them. Yet, after those few moments, I have experienced a greater calm in them than if I did not start off my classes with those moments of silence. If we have not cultivated an inner space of silence in which we can listen to and respond to the Word of God, how can we ever have a real experience of God? How can we ever enter into those relational events with the Divine?

St. Ignatius, with his emphasis on the Spiritual Exercises, understood the importance of the relational event with the Divine in his promotion of using our senses and imagination with respect to the Gospels. For Ignatius, the words become more than simply bearers of meaning. The words become the bearer of God himself, the Word, through which, by faith, we are able to have a real and immediate experience of God. The words open up a world unto God's self, a realm in which His grace radiates forth in the here and the now.

It is perhaps a good question for us to consider our own relationship to Scripture--of how we read and hear the Word of God. What kind of soil are we cultivating through which God desires to take root in us? Where do we need tending? Where are the weeds?

Why Am I a Jesuit?

"It is often said nowadays that the present century thirsts for authenticity. Especially in regard to young people it is said that they have a horror of the artificial or false and that they are searching above all for truth and honesty.
These "signs of the times" should find us vigilant. Either tacitly or aloud-but always forcefully--we are being asked: Do you really believe what you are proclaiming? Do you live what you believe? Do you really preach what you live? The witness of life has become more than ever an essential condition for real effectiveness in preaching."
~Pope Paul VI, Evangelii nuntiandi, S76

I've been thinking about this question of being a Jesuit recently. I find myself wracked with uncertainty and overwhelming weakness, wondering if I have the capacity and the strength to live this life amidst the challenges and the struggles that I inevitably face. Can I give authentic witness to this vocation?

There's a part of me that feels selfish about writing this post as I compare my own struggles with the suffering that the people of Haiti are going through and think to myself: "my struggle is nothing compared to what they are going through. How dare I complain about my own struggles."

On the other hand, I feel my struggles to be quite real, and it would be silly for me to ignore the reality of what is going on inside of me. It is silly anyway--almost bordering on dangerous-- to play the comparison game of who suffers more.

As I was praying earlier, I felt called to write this because I need to write this for myself more than anyone else. In the midst of this time of First Studies, I need to rekindle that fire that led me first into the Society.

Why am I a Jesuit?

I have probably referenced this well-known quote of Fr. Pedro Arrupe before, but I continue to draw inspiration and strength from it:

"Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is, than falling in love in a quite absolute, final way. What you are in love with, what seizes your imagination, will affect everything. It will decide what will get you out of bed in the morning, what you will do with your evenings, how you will spend your weekends, what you read, who you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude. Fall in love, stay in love, and it will decide everything."

I was recently reading the letter that I wrote to my former provincial before I took vows during my 8-day retreat. I remember thinking that I was not going to take vows unless I truly believed in what I was going to profess.

My introductory paragraph read:

"Dear Fr. Provincial,
As I compose this letter to you, I am surrounded by our Lord’s grandeur here at Hayden Lake. I am overwhelmed by the abundance of God shown forth through the beauty of the earth and am moved with awe and thanksgiving. Here, in this most sacred place, God has touched me, deeply and profoundly, yet again. I feel wholly unworthy, yet still God beckons, invites me into a greater mystery beyond my own understanding. God has led me to this point, and as I imagine the prospect of taking vows this upcoming August, I feel at peace. I have found my home, have found where I feel I belong—in the vineyard of our Lord. Therefore, with humble heart, I ask your permission to profess on August 16, 2008 simple perpetual vows into the Society of Jesus and to be admitted into first profession."

These words were not fluff to make the provincial think highly of me. I believed these words profoundly. It is funny to read how unworthy I felt myself to be in God's sight--the story of my life. Yet, God still calls. God sees something in me worth sharing to the world, and I have to believe that because I often do not believe that of myself. That has been echoed in so many people who have been as Christ to me and who have affirmed my decision to be with the Society.

The fire, though, needs greater tending. Anyone can offer herself/himself to God without necessarily being in religious life. Why am I a Jesuit?

I don't want to answer: "because what else would I do with my life?"

As I think about this, I am coming to realize that it is absurd for me to think that I can fully and completely answer this question. Tending to one's fire is, in many ways, the task of a lifetime. I imagine that all people must necessarily ask this question as they grow in years. And perhaps what originally fed the fire must now be fed differently.

I think answering this question presumes that I completely understand my vocation. Yet, I alluded in my vow letter that I felt led into a vocation greater than my own understanding. That this life that I wanted to lead was wrapped in mystery, yet I believed that God would walk with me through thick and thin and strengthen me through His love and mercy to enter fully into this life.

I became a Jesuit, in part, because I felt the amazing power of God's love in my life, and I wanted to respond and share that with others. I saw the Jesuits as a conduit through which I could best share what I have been given to those around me. As a Jesuit, I have grown in faith and in love for our Lord, heartened by these brothers of mine who have taught and formed me into becoming more and more a Jesuit.

Yes, I am a Jesuit. But, in a different sense, I am always in the process of becoming a Jesuit. At this midway point in my time in first studies, I am called to revisit that question: "why am I a Jesuit." Do I have the grace to imitate Christ who humbly became as one of us up til death?

Only by God challenging me in this way can I really grow in my vocation, and I must be open to this challenge. And, that I can be open with this challenge is a grace for which I am thankful for. And, I know I do not enter into this challenge alone.

In my experience, religious life has been a very enriching life thus far, and I have grown in ways I never would have otherwise. But, this life is also not a walk in the park, and there are many painful graces to be experienced.

I hardly ever ask this of anyone (I have been recently), but please pray for me at this time. We religious pray for the world daily, but I think our vocations are strengthened by those who pray for us as well--that we might faithfully and authentically serve God and God's people with integrity. Please help us and support us to be the best people that we can be for the Church and for the world.

Back from the Grips of Irrelevancy!!!

People of earth, I am back!! Back from the woe and wretchedness of obscurity, back from the sad state of insignificancy, back from the (insert catchy alliterative phrase) of (insert catchy thesaurus word)! Trust me reader, there is nothing so deplorable to the serious blogger than to see one's blog gather cobwebs and the chirping of crickets.

Oh, who am I kidding? I have no readers.

Alright, you probably think I have gone crazy, so I promise to check myself into the crazy-house. Actually, now that I think about it, I don't really have to move anywhere...

Mostly kidding aside, I have been wanting again to get back into my old practice of writing. A month and a half since my last post, no? It usually is that last month in the semester when my already crazy-self goes into that super-crazy mode of overly obsessing about my work. The thought of writing anything outside of my 20-page papers almost made me want to vomit. Of course, being a good Asian, I don't care about my grades =p

So what brings me out of that comfortable hole of blog-silence? Well, honestly, part of the reason is that I have been waking up in the middle of the night lately and have a terrible time trying to get to bed. It's been a number of days since I've been able to have uninterrupted sleep. But, if you notice when I wrote on my blog last time, I did it in the wee hours of the morning. Well, I figure instead of wallowing in self-pity for three hours that I would actually make the most of that quiet time. There really is something to those early morning hours that I can find quite peaceful.

Of course, a big reason for my silence is a struggle anyone who writes goes through: what really do I have to say that is worth sharing? I mean, there are millions of people on the intraweb and far more interesting blogs out there to read. Why would I ever want to keep up this blog?

Well, I've thought about it, and the only answer that makes sense to me is insanity.

Really, though, I do like writing, so why wouldn't I write? Well, to write is to be vulnerable. And, who wouldn't want to be vulnerable in this pollyanna society in which we support and constantly affirm one another?

Maybe it's masochism...

Anyway, I really do want to get back into a rhythm of writing, and hopefully I'm just not saying that. Well, knowing me, I'll wait two months, wake up in the middle of the night, and write another post about how I haven't written for two months and how I would like to write again. Lord...

Well, to spur myself to write, there are a few things I've been wanting to blog about (in no particular order):
1) A reflection on the horrific events of Haiti
2) Mapping my faith journey. Why am I a Jesuit?
3) Discerning my summer
4) More reflective writings on my spiritual life
5) Something music related

Before I end, I would like to say that I find myself very grateful at this time to those who support me--for their immense generosity, charity, and love. I am also grateful to know of God's continued work in my life. Undoubtedly, without God's grace, this life that I lead would personally be close to impossible.

Alright. Thank you to my two readers out there, you are the best! Also, happy Martin Luther King day! Let us pray for an end to racism in our world and in our hearts--that, despite differences in color, we may acknowledge the dignity and worth of all peoples. Let us also continue to keep close in our prayers our sisters and brothers of Haiti.

A (Somewhat Lengthy) Update on Life

Well, I went to bed intending to get a good night's rest. I know, however, that if I wake up in the middle of the night, around the hours or 3-4, I'll have a hard time getting back to bed. So, I thought I'd just write a post in the meantime--I've been wanting to write an update about how things are going on my end anyway.

One might notice over the past few months that I have not been as active with my blog posts as I was earlier this year. When I first began the blog, I told my formation assistant that I wanted to try out a blog, just to see how it would go. But, I wanted a certain detachment from it--a certain freedom, you might say. It would be a place for me to write when I felt moved, not a place where I felt obligated to produce. I think it has been this semester where I have truly felt for the first time that freedom with my blog.

So, where to begin...

This semester, I mentioned when the school year started that I have three classes: History of Christianity, Classical Modern Philosophy, and Kierkegaard. I'll offer briefly just a little blurb on each class:

Hist. of Christianity: Last week, one of the class members began one of his remarks by declaring that he didn't want to throw napalm on the discussion. Of course, when you hear that, it means napalm is going to be thrown into the discussion. You never know what new and exciting things will come out of your classmates' mouths each week
Classical Modern: This has been my first experience of having classes run through the internet. Unfortunately, that is because our professor has to be close to her dad during this time of his life. Now, although I have more than a year of philosophy left to study, I will come out and declare now that this period of philosophy is definitively my least favorite. Just a heads-up reader--you are a mode.
Kierkegaard: Love it! Professor is well-known for being a hard grader, though, but I don't mind. Am I here for a grade, or am I here to learn??

Overall, I think the studies aspect to my life is going quite well in the sense that I been fairly good at keeping pace with the workload. It's about that time of the year, however, when the stress begins to pack-on, so I'm bracing myself for the work I need to put in during this next month or so.

I have continued my apostolate from last year which has been to teach catechism at the local parish to 7th graders. I joked with my class that I have had them for over a year, but I still don't really understand them. Last year was a constant juggle of figuring out what works and what doesn't. Finally, I think I have been able to get a grasp on my kids and have found a flow and rhythm to the class that works.

I start off the class with a few minutes of silence--both because they need the silence as much as anyone, and it's also a time for me to get settled and prepare myself internally for what I am about to do. Then, I give a little blurb for the upcoming Sunday Gospel reading. My students complain that they don't understand the priest when he preaches, so I try to make it more accessible to them (who knows if I succeed at that!). Then, I have thought it important to engage my class with reading comprehension exercises. I'm sure any help they can get in their education will be a boon for them in the long run. This semester, I have been wanting my class to get to know the lives of the Saints and the way they strove, each in their particular way, to serve God and the world. So, I bring into class a reading excerpt for my students to read and have them answer a number of questions based on the reading. I have been quite surprised how well this has worked not only in terms of their learning but also in terms of my sanity. Their behavior has been at an all-time high when I am not just lecturing at them for an hour but actually require them to take the learning into their own hands. Finally, I try to do something creative with them at the end. Last time, I had them write AIM chats to God (inspired by the colloquies of the Spiritual Exercises), which were quite the hit. I think I will continue with these.

Besides CCD, I am now a leader of a CLC group (Christian Life Community). CLC are small groups of about 7-8 people that meet on a weekly basis to deepen and share our faith with one another. When I was at Seattle U, I was a part of a CLC group my freshman year and tried leading one the following year. In my time at SU, though, CLC's had a difficult time thriving, and my group eventually dissolved. At Fordham, however, CLC's seem to be a growing ministry, and I have certainly experienced that with my own group. My group is mostly comprised of freshmen, and it has been a gift for me to journey with them and to help develop their faith lives. It's also been a great way for me to get more involved with the wider Fordham community. Jesuits in the midst of studies can get rather caught up in our bubble of books and papers.

A few weeks ago, I had the great privilege to help lead a silent retreat. Specifically, I had the unique opportunity to "direct" a retreatant. I put that in quotes, because I believe very much in Ignatius' wisdom that God is the primary director in this setting--the director serves only as a means to help the retreatant discern the movements of her/his prayer. I must say that, although this was my first time, I felt right at home with this type of ministry. It was a joy and a blessing to share this rather intimate time they were having with God and to see how it was inspiring them to live their lives. I was also humbled by how open they were with me--I got a glimpse of what it might be like to hear one's confession. I found myself often throwing out the phrase that has been thrown out to me so often in direction: be gentle with yourself. I think spiritual direction is something I would LOVE to do as a Jesuit.

My other "apostolate" has actually been with one of my Ciszek brothers. Every week, I have been giving him piano lessons. It was one of those things where he asked me to teach him, and I was more than happy to help him with this. Of course, I told him there is a price to pay for such a request: bruised hands, harsh whip-lashing, and naturally some bitter tears. He keeps coming back, so I figure he's a glutton for pain.

Generally, things here at Ciszek-land are going quite well. I must say that I have felt rather at home here this past semester, which has been a gift for me to feel. I get along with them quite well and haven't felt the need to punch anyone in the face. In the face (it's all in the delivery). Anyway, one of the things that I have found myself being particularly grateful for are our community masses. There is an energy and prayerfulness to our Masses that I have found quite edifying. It has been a source of much life for me here. A few of the many other things that I have felt lifegiving include my morning crossfit group, Wednesday glee club, and a number of intimate fraternal conversations that I have had.

Although I have certainly had my moments of struggle, I would wholeheartedly say that I have felt God very present in my life. I look back on this semester thus far with much thanksgiving and praise for God's work.

Well, I hope this post finds you all well. Many prayers and blessings!

Feast of All Saints and Blessed of the Society of Jesus

I had the privilege today to offer at Mass in the community a reflection on today's very special Jesuit feast day--the Feast of All Saints and Blessed of the Society of Jesus.

Whenever I prepare things like this, I do not typically like to waste words. In my writing, I tend to be quite meticulous in the way I convey my ideas. It is not just a matter of content for me--I hold the expression of that content to be just as important as the idea itself. How ideas are expressed in verbal speech, however, can come across quite differently than the way they come across in writing. Rather than simply reading what I have prepared, I have been challenging myself to be more spontaneous--to be able to speak from the heart at the present moment and not play it too safe simply by reading words.

So, the way I have been preparing for these moments is to actually write out the reflection. But, as soon as I get up in front of the audience, I set it mostly aside and look at it only for key points that I wanted to make. The downside is that I can sometimes stumble in my words and forget some of what I wanted to say, but the reward is that the reflection can become more organic and have a more natural feel to it.

So, I would like to share my reflection today. This is not completely how it came across at Mass today, but this is how I prepared it in writing (although I have made some revisions and additions for this blog post). I addressed this primarily with a Jesuit audience in mind.

Happy Feast day!

"Brothers,

Today is clearly a very special day for us. It is a time for us to commemorate and celebrate the lives of our brethren who have gone before us. It is also a time for us to recognize how greatly the Church has acknowledged the works that the Society has done over the centuries. For example, just look at the sheer number of Jesuits Blessed and Saints that we have. I was recently looking on the Company Magazine website that has a detailed list of all of the Feast days that we could celebrate liturgically. As I tried to count all of those Feast days, I found myself having to start over a few times because I kept losing count. I think I counted 112...

That's almost a third of the entire year in which we could have a Jesuit Feast Day. I don't know about you, but I find that to be an astonishing number. How lucky we are that we can call all of these men brothers and friends in the Lord!

Of course, there is so much that we could say about these Jesuit brothers of ours. But, I would like to take the opportunity to make a few observations about the life we lead as Jesuits and to connect that with these men who have led extraordinary lives.

First, we are all men who are rooted in prayer and in the Spiritual Exercises. All of us have had that deep experience of God in our lives, in which we believe that God has dealt directly with us (and who subsequently continues to deal directly with us), has allowed us to experience His love and grace in a profoundly intimate way, who has called each of us by name, and who beckons us all to follow Him. The Exercises, passed down to us by our founder, provided us the means by which we were invited to open ourselves completely to God's work in us, to experience the Lord in a way which we have never before experienced.

In having this profound experience of God--as many of our novice brethren are having at this time--we are asked to consider our response to God. How can we but say Yes! to what God is doing in our lives? How can we but proclaim our Magnificat and to live out that Magnificat as best we can?

I think what the Church recognizes in the lives of these Jesuit brothers of ours is the recognition of how they responded with a resounding Yes! by the way in which they subsequently lived their lives. They went out into the world with hearts on fire, inflamed with a love that strove, as much as humanly possible, to imitate Christ, our rock and our foundation. They lived their lives in such a way that they could not imagine doing otherwise.

Even, as we well know, to the point of death.

They recognized that God had given so much to the world--how could they not but offer themselves in the same way. When we hear the words of today's gospel "whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life will preserve it," those words are not meant for us to lament the state of our existence or to fall into deep despair. Rather, I think it is a matter of attachment. For what reason are we to act in this world? If we act out of selfishness, greed, pride, etc., then Christ states simply that we cannot be His disciples. Our lives are not simply for our own glory--they are for the glory of God, the one who seeks to bring the world into radical life. To be a disciple of Christ is not to lead a self-serving life, and our Jesuit brethren had an acute sense of that.

In order to live out our Yes! daily, it is so important for us, then, to be grounded in our prayer, to stay connected to Christ in the way that inflamed us in the Exercises. If we get out of the daily practice of allowing Him to take root in our hearts, then we begin to wither--our passion for this life begins to dry. Rooted in our prayer, we allow God daily to continue to pour life into our vocation.

Second, I am sure there were many Jesuits who were contemporaries of these Holy men and who did not immediately recognize their brethren to be Saints. Who can blame them? It sometimes takes centuries for the Church to canonize a Saint. As I look around this room, however, I cannot help but think that I am living with men who potentially have the ability to do great and amazing things with their lives. Who knows...in a century or two, there might be one among us whom the Church will recognize as a Saint.

I mention this as an invitation for us to see in our fellow brothers what we have the potential to become in our lives, to invite us to see each other in the way that God sees us. That we may encourage each other in our vocations and recognize that we may not immediately see the possibilities in each of our brothers.

Finally, we are called to trust in the work of God. Our lives are quite shrouded in mystery by virtue of our vowed life. We do not know where we may be sent or which peoples we may encounter. Certainly, for those Blessed and Saints sent off into unknown lands, I imagine how important and necessary it was for them to have faith and trust in where God was leading them. If we cannot trust, then we close ourselves off to the working of the Holy Spirit. Possibilities become fears, and fears turn into despair. When we cannot trust, we become blocked in our ability to follow completely where God is leading us. But, as the saying goes: "With God, all things are possible." If we trust, what wonders God can do in our lives.

We are so lucky to have these Jesuit Saints and Blessed who paved the road for us and who teach us how to be friends in the Lord. Let us call upon their intercession at this time. And, as we soon approach the table of our Lord, let us pray the words all of us are familiar with

"Take Lord, receive, all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my entire will. Whatsoever I have or hold, you have given me. I give it all back to you and surrender it, wholly to be governed by your will. Give me only your love and your race, and I am rich enough. And I ask for nothing more."

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.