Last Mass Reflection at Ciszek

Today, I gave my last Mass reflection at Ciszek Hall, so I thought I would share it for anyone interested. As always, what I write for Mass is always intended for my immediate Jesuit audience, but perhaps it can be some fruit to others.

Anyway, a quick note that during my April 1st fun post, I totally didn't intend for the part where I wrote how I wanted to write an update to be part of the joke. I actually had meant to write an update, but then the craziness of this past month went into overdrive, and I'm just getting a quick breather from it all. From the various papers/exams due, to my time at the Jesuit Conference in DC to discuss the role of Jesuits and Communications in the 21st century, and to organizing a great deal of the Easter Triduum music at the local parish here (bilingual, no less), it's been difficult to find time or energy to write. This upcoming week, I have two more papers and what is called the De U-- the capstone oral exam that I will have to take to finish up my Master's, so I'm sure I won't be writing anytime soon, especially since afterwards I have to worry about moving back to the West Coast. Hopefully in due time, though.

FYI: the Gospel reading today is taken from Luke 24:13-35

In today’s Gospel reading, we hear how the Risen Christ appeared to two of his disciples on the road to Emmaus. We hear at the beginning of the passage how the village is about seven miles from Jerusalem, and that it was nearly evening by the time they reached Emmaus. We can assume, then, that Jesus had spent practically the whole day with them, yet it was only near the very end when they came to recognize Him through the breaking of the bread, at which point Jesus disappears from their midst. And, as they reflected and did their examen, so to speak—they noted how their hearts burned, and how this intense feeling within was confirmation that Christ truly was in their presence.

When I think about times when I have felt my heart burning within me, that intense feeling in which I could not help but believe that I was in the presence of God, I typically think about my Kairos retreat during my senior year of high school at the beloved CA retreat center in Applegate. Kairos, as it was described to us, was defined as God’s time. This was God’s time—a time in which we were invited to intimately place ourselves in the presence of God and to be receptive and vulnerable to God’s grace at work. The student leaders and faculty shared personal and often vivid stories of their lives—stories of great vulnerability—and how they strived to see God at work in the midst of their great struggles and joys. I’m sure those of you who will be moving on to regency will be invited into such situations.

I remember a moment in particular after I had the opportunity to confess what was going on within me during the retreat. I was sitting in the chapel and gazing upon the cross of Christ. As I looked at the cross, I remember being overwhelmed with the intense feeling that Jesus was really with me. That Jesus was there, his arms outstretched, his gaze inviting me to draw ever closer to Him.

As I looked at the cross, I found myself in tears, because I had never before felt the presence of God so strongly. I could not help but believe that this truly was the work of the Holy Spirit, that God really was present to me at that time. There, I believe my heart began to truly burn for the first time, and I tend to think about that time as the seed of my vocation into the Society.

When I think about our Father Ignatius, I cannot help but contemplate the fire that burned in his heart throughout his lifetime. As he read about the Saints and about their love and desire to follow Christ, I can imagine the transformation taking place within his heart. At his bed, in the reading of Holy men and women, Ignatius was having a Kairos moment. God deemed that to be the appropriate time to seize his heart and mind and set it aflame, and from that point Ignatius would never be able to look back.

Ignatius at the river Cardoner was also a Kairos moment for him. As he sat and contemplated the mysteries of Christ amidst the beauty of nature, I imagine the fire in his heart as he began to understand more and more the ways that God was working in his life and the way God was working in the world. Ignatius was often so moved that he would tear up just thinking about how beautiful, for example, the Trinity was, as it seemed to him to be like three harmonious musical keys.

And, on his way to present himself to the Pope, Ignatius had a Kairos moment in the Chapel of La Storta, where the Father came to him in an intimate way and placed Ignatius with his son Jesus. I imagine the intense feeling that Ignatius was having during this vision, and how this vision sought to confirm the deep desires he believed Christ was placing within him.

Ignatius’ heart was set on fire by our Lord, and he could not help but want to share and enkindle that fire with others.

I think this is why GC 35 truly wanted to remind us about how our charism is founded upon this inner flame given to us in God’s time. For all of us, I would venture to guess that all of us have had Kairos moments in our lives prior to entering the Society in which we felt ourselves to be on fire with the love of God—a flame so strong and intense that we sought to enter into such a radical life. And why? Because God had lit a fire within us, and we had a burning desire to respond to his Call. Like Ignatius, we received something from God that was so profound and so intimate that we could not help but want to share the life of God given to us with those around us. As first year novices, we then all entered into the Spiritual Exercises, in which we devoted a full month of silence where we truly dedicated our lives to Christ—a Kairos month meant to ground our lives as Jesuits even to this day. In those days, we encountered the living God in a real and intimate way, and we might have found ourselves like the disciples, in which our hearts burned because of Christ’s real work within us.

As Jesus was his disciples on the road to Emmaus, and as Jesus was with Ignatius, so too is Jesus with us, even when we are blind to his intimate presence. All time is Kairos—all time is God’s time, for He is always with us, never leaving our side.

In my humble opinion, the people of God deserve nothing less that Jesuits who are on fire with the love of God. And we should expect nothing less of our Jesuit brothers than to know that each of us have this flame within. Of course, I’ll be the first one to admit that I have not always tended well to my flame or to that of others, nor do I expect to feel on fire everyday for the rest of my life. Just the same, in spite of my own weaknesses and faults and blindness, You should expect me to have a burning heart for Christ that grounds my life and vocation as a Jesuit, and I would expect nothing less of all of you. And I personally don’t think that is too much to ask. Only with hearts truly aflame can we set the world on fire and make present to all the already present presence of our living God.

As we approach the table, let us come before the Lord, as the psalm says, with hearts that rejoice in his presence. Here, in the proclamation of his Word, and especially in the breaking of the bread, we believe that God is here with us in an intimate and special way. Every liturgy for us is a Kairos moment for God’s grace to enter ever intimately within and to renew our flames. This is God’s time. Jesus is here, alive, and with us. Alleluia!

Back with Big News!!!

So, my last posting on here was in late November, so it has been way too long since my last update. Well, I'll be writing another update in the next few days about news that is going on in my end, but I just wanted to share about a new mission that I have been given that is super exciting!

Anyway, you probably would not have known, but much of my silence has been due to the fact that I have been secretly cultivating a program that will be introducing a new frontier to the work of the Jesuits that I am now ready to share with the world. I call this new ministry the ministry of smiles. As a Jesuit, one of the ministries you are apt to hear about is called the ministry of presence. I think my new program will revolutionize the way we think about the ministry of presence and bring us to a new frontier where we can boldly go where no man has gone before.

Let me explain this in a simple way:

Ministry of presence does not necessarily entail smiling.
Ministry of smiling necessarily entails smiling.
Everybody likes smiling.
Therefore, everybody will like the ministry of smiling.

In order to develop this program, I have been working every day to develop a smile that is new, revolutionary, and avant-garde while still retaining traditional elements pleasing to all. Let me tell you my superiors have been completely blown away by this new program that I am proposing, and when I pray about it, I know that God is all smiles.

As one theologian puts it: "The one who smiles prays twice."

I thought I would post a few pictures that shows the fruit of my five-month silence and that this period of time has not gone to waste. I think these show quite evidently how successful the ministry of smiles will be.

Mass Reflection for Daily Mass

Well, I said I'd be away for a bit, but it's been my custom since having my blog to upload my once-a-semester mass reflections that I offer for the community. So, here it is. As always, these reflections are typically aimed at my Jesuit audience, but perhaps you may find some fruit in it. A belated happy thanksgiving to all of you!

During my second year as a novice, I had the opportunity to work at a L’Arche community in Tacoma, WA for about two and a half months or so. We had three core members at the house I was staying at, and one of those core members was named Bobby. I think I’ve probably told some of you about Bobby before.

Bobby was never able to develop in the way most humans do over time. Although he is about two years older than I am, he never was able to mature past the mental stage of infancy. He is unable to talk, and he cannot do most things on his own. As a live-in-assistant, some of my duties included clothing, toileting, washing, and feeding Bobby. Whenever you fed him, you had to put an apron on him because it could get a little messy. In the morning, I would have to gingerly attach him to a machine that lifted him out of his bed and would slowly placed him on to his wheelchair, and he was no small guy. Also, throughout the day, I would have to check to see if he had soiled his diaper and would have to change him on a regular basis. Changing the diaper on a baby is much different than changing the diaper on a grown man.

I imagine that many who come across Bobby are bound to feel sorry for him and the sad state of life he finds himself in. If we placed ourselves in Bobby’s shoes, what kind of life would that be? Knowing that we were that helpless and that we were so entirely dependent on others for our livelihood. Feeling the degeneration of our own human dignity because of our stark infirmity?

Whenever I think about Bobby, though, I do not feel pity or remorse for Bobby. Actually, whenever I think about Bobby, most of the memories that arise in me are memories of laughter and joy. Bobby was always laughing, and I would always think to myself why he was laughing. I would actually sometimes ask him: “Bobby, why are you laughing?” and look at him as if I was expecting an answer. Although he couldn’t communicate verbally to me, I read his laughing as a sign of his happiness and his smiles as his joy. Curiously, I consider Bobby to be one of the happiest people I’ve ever met in my life, and I truly believe that God in his mysterious power, was communicating something quite profound to me and to many others through Bobby.

In today’s gospel, Jesus asks us to consider the fig tree, and that when we notice the buds bursting, that this is a sign of summer. All around us are signs for us to interpret in the same way that Jesus asks us to interpret the sign of the fig tree. Sometimes, those signs are very ordinary. When we see that the fridge has suddenly become filled with Gatorade bottles and coconut juice, that is a sign of that the shoppers have gone shopping. Or, when the bathrooms are restocked with toilet paper, that is a sign that someone has done his manualia. Or when we are able to go to class because our bills are getting paid, that is a sign that Rich has been up to no good. Or, when we saw the amount of food before us during thanksgiving, that is a sign of all who pitched in before hand has taken the time to prepare the food. Contrary to popular belief, though, just because you score low on the karaoke machine is not a sign of the mic’s prejudice. But, I tend to think of these actions as presencing God in the smallest of ways.

Christ uses the fig tree to help us to be attentive of the signs taking place which are expressing how that the kingdom of God is near. But, clearly, unless God was playing a major joke on us, I think it would be difficult to think about the nearness of the kingdom temporally. It’s been almost two thousand years after the fact—where is this kingdom? It certainly doesn’t seem to be near. But, I would like to suggest not the temporal nearness of the kingdom but the physical nearness of the kingdom. For me, Bobby’s life was a sign for me that the kingdom of God is near. When I was in Bobby’s presence, as I mentioned earlier, I truly felt that God was near, and that each smile and laugh that he imparts on others is another brick offered for the kingdom. As we hear in today's responsorial psalm: "Here God lives among His people."

And, I think we are all challenged to be like Bobby in the certain sense. Of course, one of the themes that Joe has been reminding all of us throughout the semester is that we are who we are. I am me, and you are you, and you are not me. I am certainly not Bobby, nor should I be exactly like Bobby. But, during my time with Bobby, I was able to recognize the gifts and talents that he was able to share with the world—gifts and talents that are uniquely Bobby’s. In the same way, we must recognize the gifts, the talents, and the life that we have been given by God and to lay down our own bricks for the kingdom. We must challenge ourselves as Jesuits to make God present to others through the graces that God is pouring out for us on a daily basis. Through our prayer and our examen, we are challenged to notice and to be grateful for the ways in which Jesus seeks to nourish and sustain us and to be attentive to the signs made present to us on a daily basis in our Jesuit vocation. In being attentive to the signs, we ourselves can form ourselves more and more to become signs and witnesses to the kingdom of God. When we do that through the help of our Lord, then we are indeed helping to bring the kingdom of God closer to those around us.—especially to those who feel the kingdom to be tragically distant.

So, for your prayer, as we continue our celebration in which we believe our Lord to be very near to us in the Eucharist, I may suggest that we pray about those people or those experiences in our life that have been signs of the kingdom. Let us pray in thanksgiving to the many people who have touched our lives in this way, for those who have laid down those bricks in our lives. Let us also pray for the continued grace to be witnesses and signs to the kingdom, that our lives and vocations as Jesuits may help others to see and recognize that the Kingdom of God is indeed near.

Retreating from the blog

This post should come as no surprise, as I have barely updated the blog since I arrived back in New York this past August.

I imagine in this last year of studies that I will not be updating the blog very much. As much as I would like to devote more time and energy to it, I find that most of my mental energy is directed towards study and paper writing, leaving little left in my reserve to offer anything of substance at the current moment.

A blogger should have something to say, but unfortunately I currently find myself having little to offer at this current time. Unless a wave of inspiration hits me, I imagine that you probably won't be hearing from me too often for the time being.

Until next time, I am retreating from the blog (which I already have been doing anyway). I have less than a year left to learn from and to listen to those who know much more than I do before I enter into full time ministry. It is primarily a time for me not to teach, but to be taught and to take in from the wisdom of others. The journey over the past two years at Fordham have certainly been tough in a lot of ways, but I believe the academic formation is important in a world that increasingly sees faith and the Church with greater skepticism. Hopefully, by the end, this time of study and reflection will have prepared me to offer words of greater depth and insight.

God Bless. AMDG

An Update On My Final Year in First Studies

Over the past week or so, I've received a few inquiries about how I'm doing since I haven't updated the blog in over a month. Currently, I am at Boston College for the weekend primarily to support one of my fellow Oregonian brothers--Alejandro Olayo, SJ--who was ordained as a Deacon this past Friday (for those training to become priests, it is customary first to be ordained as Deacons. This is simply a temporary phase for those training to become priests, and these new Jesuit deacons around the US will later become ordained as priests around June or so). One of my favorite moments of ordination is when the bishop tells each ordinand: "Believe what you read. Teach what you believe. Practice what you teach."

Today, I had the pleasure of witnessing Alejandro's first Mass (in Spanish) as a deacon and listening to his beautiful homily. During the ordination and the Mass, I was edified to see how happy he seemed in this new phase of religious life and the energy he brought into his ministry. I remarked to him afterwards: "You're a natural!" Here's a pic following Mass.

Alejandro hosted a nice lunch yesterday, and we had quite the gathering of Oregonians present. Here is another pic! (We had to get at least one pic in to give the impression that we like each other =p Truly, though, it was great to be with them)

Now, because tomorrow is a holiday at Fordham, and Mondays are typically quite a busy day for me, I thought I would finally write an update about how things are going.

Typically, I find philosophy studies to be quite exhausting mentally, but I find it even more so in my final year here. Unfortunately, my capacity to invest more time mentally into the blog has been quite diminished. I think part of it is due to the fact that I have practically been in school since I was 4 years old, and almost all of my life has been spent in the classroom. I also find myself quite ready to move onto a new stage of formation in which I am no longer a student but rather one who is ready to integrate all of that learning into full-time work. Yearning for the future, however, is not so helpful in approaching the present situation, so I find myself praying for the ability to fully engage myself in this final year without checking-out too soon.

On that note, I recently met with my new superior for Formation, Fr. Jerry Cobb, and it seems most likely that I will be going to teach at one of our high schools in the Northwest next year (we have four schools in the Oregon Province: Jesuit High in Portland, OR, Bellarmine Prep in Tacoma, WA, Seattle Prep, and Gonzaga Prep in Spokane, WA). I very much enjoyed working at Gonzaga Prep for a few months as a novice, so I very much look forward to this new opportunity.

So, I am taking four classes this semester: Natural Law Ethics, Integration Seminar, Introduction to Old Testament, and Philosophy of Religion. I actually don't need to take philosophy of religion, but prior Scholastics of Ciszek Hall have recommended the course. Plus, I figured that it would be useful to wrestle more with the question of religion and how we think about religion. Although I have found some of the readings and discussion helpful, I have not found myself really in love with any of my classes at the current moment. Curiously, during this past week, I found myself beginning to appreciate and actually liking the topic of metaphysics. I must be going crazy =p I think, however, there is something to be said for humans to ask those philosophical questions about the origins of the universe and why things are the way they are. I believe these sorts of questions and the way we answer them do very much affect the way we perceive and interact with the world around us--that is, if we even give pause to consider such questions. Of course, the Catholic response to these questions centers on our belief in God who created the world and sustains its existence, and such a belief is harmonious with our natural powers of reason and not contrary to faith (see JPII's encyclical, Fides Et Ratio)

Studies aside, I have also begun a new apostolate this year. In my previous two years, I worked as a catechist at the local parish here in the Bronx, St. Martin of Tours, and prepared 6th/7th graders for the Sacrament of Confirmation. I wanted to tap into my musical side this year, so my apostolate now is to provide music for the 9:30AM Sunday mass at the parish. The pastor really wants to promote this Mass more, and one of the ways to encourage such participation is to enhance the music at the liturgy. Two other Jesuit brothers of mine are helping me at this particular Mass, and in our debut performance, we had quite a number of parishioners truly thanking us for providing this ministry. I'm quite aware that it's not good to form something, only to leave it after a year. I'm hoping that once I leave, I will have been able to set something up that can be sustained in the future. Prayers are appreciated in this regard.

In addition to the music, I continue to help lead a CLC group on campus, which I began last year. It is always great to come together with the group to dedicate a moment of our week for prayer and reflection.

In all, I have found things to be rather busy and stressful this year. In the midst of the busyness, I recognize my need to make moments in the day that I dedicate for silence and prayer. One of my Jesuit brothers recently talked about his prayer as a contemplative in the world, and that he strives to make his life and his work a prayer in itself. As Jesuits, I think that is the proper attitude for how we approach our life and ministry. On the other hand, I recognize in myself a personal need to carve out actual moments in my day in which I temporarily retreat from the world in private prayer. As always, there's room for improvement on my part =p

Finally, I thought I would provide a new picture of the Ciszek Hall community this year, which was taken about a month and a half ago, lol. I believe, in total, that we are 26 Scholastics and 3 priests. This year, we have 6 new first year men as well as a new superior, Fr. Joe Sands. Our bright and smiling faces expresses how excited we are to study philosophy and to share this mission with one another =) These are my Jesuit brothers whom I share this vocation with, and together we strive as vowed religious to root our lives centrally in Christ--Christ who is our light and our life. One of the first things that Joe asked of all of us in the first weeks was to support each other by praying for one another, and I would like to end this by offering my prayers of thanksgiving for my fellow Jesuit brothers at Ciszek Hall, that God may continue to pour forth the Holy Spirit to inspire their work, and that they may be given the graces they need at this time to become formed more and more as religious who will spend their lives laboring in the vineyard of our Lord. AMDG

When Jesuits Leave

The bonds that Jesuits form with one another are special relationships in which our shared life connects us to each other in a very unique way. We live together, labor together, and pray together. We are men rooted in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius in which our intimate experiences of Christ unite our hearts and minds together with the Lord. We share a life that appears quite foolish to the outside world yet makes sense to us as Jesuits only in light of our lives of faith.

When Jesuits decide to leave the Society, as a result, it can be an extremely jarring moment for us when we hear the news. This past year, we saw many men in our company who chose to leave their lives as Jesuits. We ask the question ‘why?’ and wonder what events transpired that led to such a decision. There is that feeling that a member of our spiritual family who has been with us for so much time has decided to leave us. These departures inevitably challenge the vocations of us who continue on with this life as we ask ourselves why we stay. This vocational challenge, however, is not necessarily a bad thing.

About a month ago, while I was taking my day off from my work in LA, I was relaxing at our LA villa house near Redondo Beach when I received a phone call. I was excited to see that it was from John and very much looked forward to sharing our summer experiences and how it was going so far. John first asked about how my summer was, and I shared a little bit about what I was doing at Dolores Mission and Homeboy Industries. After I was done sharing, John went on to remark: “So Ryan, I’ve made my decision…”

I knew exactly what John meant when he said that, but I didn’t expect this phone call would be “that” time.

I remember feeling devastated back in January when John mentioned to me that he was thinking about leaving the Society. During my time at Ciszek Hall, he became one of my best friends in the house, and last year we became next door neighbors. John was one of the type of friends you would have who often poked fun at you, but deep down you knew he really valued and respected you (although he would never admit that easily). Not only could we have fun and joke with one another, but we could also vigorously argue about philosophical/theological viewpoints and eventually also discuss highly personal things. When he told me that his leaving was a possibility, I remember feeling myself enter a place of deep desolation and the need to talk to my superior and spiritual director about it. In those talks, I recognized a desire to want what was best for John—even if that meant that he would leave. I often prayed for Christ to lead him in his discernment and to follow where God was leading him at this time of his life.

Over the next few months, we would have a few conversations where I would ask him how things were going with the discernment. Sometimes, he didn’t want to talk about it, but I respected that. I only wanted him to talk to me about if he felt free to have the conversation and wanted to discuss it. In those conversations, it was apparent that John’s leaving was a possibility, but not necessarily a certainty. John spent quite a bit of time thinking about this because it was not clear to him during the semester what he would do.

So when John remarked that he made the decision, I became very aware that his subsequent words would be big ones for him to share with me. I did not have a clear sense in me what he had decided, so I awaited anxiously to hear what he would say. Finally, he said: “I’ve decided to leave the Society…”

Upon my arrival back to the Bronx, I have recognized a real sense of loss within me. When I walked past his door, I was deeply reminded about those words he shared with me a month ago. But, on the other hand, I carry with me a lot of gratitude for the friendship and brotherhood we developed over the past two years at Ciszek. I also carry with me a sense of peace, because I believe in this specific situation that John would not have left unless he felt that God was calling him into a different place. John was open with his superior, his spiritual director, and his formation assistant for quite some time, and so I trusted his discernment and those who were leading him at this time in his life.

Although men enter and leave the society for various reasons, I think John’s time in the Jesuits served as a special time for his own development and growth as a person. I had the opportunity to speak on John's behalf about two weeks ago, since he asked if I could be one of his references for a full-time youth minister position he is seeking. I remarked to the pastor that John's time with the Jesuits and being formed by Ignatian Spirituality was a major asset to this position that makes him quite unique among the pool of applicants. Although his decision to leave is difficult, I pray that John is able to flourish in this time of major transition and that he may always know and experience the love of God who constantly pours forth his grace.

Summer Reflections: R&R and Personal Highlights of Province Days

Following my time in LA, the past two weeks or so have primarily been a time of R&R for me. I spent some time in Sacramento to be with the family, see some friends in Seattle, and also to indulge my own introvertedness by taking some personal time here and there to be by myself.

I am reminded during these past two weeks how blessed I am to have people in my life who are so generous to me. My siblings remark how my grandma pities my being "poor" ("he always wears the same clothes") and tells them to give me money. I chuckle to myself about that thought, since I am well taken care of and believe that oftentimes less is more (I read a bumper sticker in NY that read: "the more you know, the less you need"). I don't need a lot of things in my life to be happy--my happiness is not rooted in material wealth. I make sure, though, that I have the things I need to function. At the same time, I'm not going to say no to going out to yogurt or getting an Asian massage =)

The past few days or so I have been in Spokane. Because we didn't have ordinations this year, the Oregon province centered our province days around the First Vows of the novices. It is highly unusual to have the Vows in Spokane, as we usually have them in Portland where our novitiate is located. Spokane has the main perk of having Gonzaga University where many of our Jesuits in the province reside. Also, our retired men usually cannot come to the First Vows due to health reasons, so having them in Spokane allowed them to have the rare opportunity to participate in the festivities.

These events continue to remind me how much I love and admire my brother Jesuits here in the Northwest. I personally continue to find great consolation when we come together and to see so many of the men I am not able to see throughout the course of the year due to being on the East Coast.

A few moments were especially moving for me this year. First, I found our Vow Crucifix ceremony quite moving. It is the custom of the Vow men to choose from a number of crosses that were owned by previous Jesuits who have passed away over the years. During the ceremony, Jesuits are invited to share stories about the Jesuit who previously owned that cross. This year, however, one of the men chose a cross that came from an unknown Jesuit. What I found particularly moving was that we were invited to share stories about Jesuits who often go unnoticed and hidden--those men whom we often fail to recognize. Yet, often their work is a symbol of the hidden work of God in our lives. They labor without even a nod or a thank you, yet they continue to work out of a sense of love and service.

This theme carried into the following day where we were invited to share in small groups after a formal talk (our lay colleagues also participated) about three themes: the hidden work of God in our lives, our experiences of suffering, and finally our experiences of resurrection. David Murphy, a lay companion who works as the house manager of the Jesuit Community at Seattle University, talked about his own hidden work in the community. He first remarked how ironic it was that in a room full of intelligent Jesuits that he would be asked to speak. Yet, he did a magnificent job talking about his day-to-day work such as dealing with plumbing, mechanical problems, and the car issues that are bound to come up in a Jesuit community. He talked about his own romantic notions of what it would be like to work for a group of Jesuits, only to realize in his work how human the Jesuits actually are (as if we would be anything besides human. Sometimes it's good to remind people about that). Yet, once he got past that illusion and saw us in our fraility, he also talked about the great beauty of our lives. He talked about being moved by Ignatian Spirituality and how doing the Retreat in Everyday Life has been so important in his life. He was able to see in our humanness and weakness how God somehow finds a way to work even with us! My sense is that he loved his job and the men that he serves.

Gloria Rothrock, from Africa, talked about her battle with cancer and yet shared how blessed she feels in her life. In the midst of her own suffering, she still is able to find God active in her life blessing her with many gifts. It is quite amazing when you encounter people who have such faith and hope in their lives despite great trials.

Lorenzo Herman, a fellow Scholastic studying at St. Louis University, spoke about research he did about his family lineage in which he uncovered that he had English blood in him--blood of a slave owner who had two sets of kids, kids with his actual wife and kids with one of the slave women. Lorenzo is a by-product of his many-greats grandmother who was enslaved by a man with the last name Harvard. Yet, he spoke about how if that had never happened, he would not be here today. Perhaps one way to put it is "finding grace in the midst of shittyness." Jesuits speak about finding God in all things, and that includes finding God in the most difficult times. Such is our vocation. In the Oregon province, we are certainly called into that sentiment in the midst of our bankruptcy.

Pat Twohy, a Jesuit in our province who has worked with Native Americans for many years, read a letter he wrote to Father General who posed the question to the province: "why are you still working with them?" His letter was remarkable and moving as he described the history of the Jesuits with the Native peoples in the Northwest (we were actually invited by them) and the great pain and suffering he has witnessed in his ministry. Pat remarked that we stay with the Native people at this time not because we are not done with them, but because they are not yet done with us. In his eyes, he felt the province had a great deal to learn from them about how to carry pain and suffering as they have carried it for many generations. So many of them in our apostolates, despite what is happening in the province, support us in our work and continue to stand with us in this difficult time.

Finally, witnessing the Vows of Perry Petrich and Sean Towey, two grads from Bellarmine Prep in Tacoma, was quite moving. I had a great seat since I was conducting the Jesuit choir for the first time (I "conducted" last year from the piano, but actually conducting where you wave your hands and hope people follow is quite a different experience. I've always imagined an experience where I would tear up while conducting a choir and genuinely had that first-time experience). We are lucky to have these two young men enter more fully into the Society who beautifully professed their Vows before friends and family.

Well, I am now back in Seattle and will be returning back to the Bronx later this week. I look forward to to this upcoming school year with a lot of gratitude, strengthened by the many graces and consolations that I have received this past summer. AMDG