Personal

I am intrigued

/ esteban

Over the weekend, I began removing the wallpaper from my dining area.    I’ve never redecorated this particular area and it’s starting to look pretty shabby.

I was dreading pulling the paper off partly because it commits me to finishing the project sooner rather than later.

Did I ever get a big surprise!  Look what was hiding  underneath!

[portfolio_slideshow timeout=0]

 

I’m pretty sure this hand painted artwork has been on this wall since the late ’60s when my house was built.

It’s pretty atrocious and will be soon obliterated by some blue paint, but I’ve been studying it for the past couple of days.

I’m intrigued!

Who painted it?  It’s the first real clue about any of the previous owners of my house.   What do you suppose the rest of the house looked like?  How long do you suppose the painting was displayed before being papered over?  Was the painting some old world tradition or some “new age” expression of the hippy era?

I’ll never know the answers to these questions, but it was a fun revelation.  It was a bit (OK, a tiny bit) like finding a lost mosaic hidden under the plaster of some ancient cathedral.

Now that these photos have been committed to the interwebs, I can now get back to painting with a clear conscience.

Besides, this was my “winter project” and since Spring is less than a month away, I’d better get to it.

I Miss … Mixtapes

/ esteban / 2 Comments

I miss the old-style cassette mixtapes of the 80’s.  Seriously!

There’s a great description of mixtapes on wikipedia:

A mixtape, which usually reflects the musical tastes of its compiler, can range from a casually selected list of favorite songs, to a conceptual mix of songs linked by a theme or mood, to a highly personal statement tailored to the tape’s intended recipient. Essayist Geoffrey O’Brien has called the personal mixtape “the most widely practiced American art form”, and many mixtape enthusiasts believe that by carefully selecting and ordering the tracks in a mix, an artistic statement can be created that is greater than the sum of its individual songs, much as an album of pop music in the post-Beatles era can be considered as something more than a collection of singles.

The mixtapes that I had were like old friends.  On long cross country drives, there were only certain tapes that would do, tapes that would allow your mind to free itself and remind you of long lost friends and experiences.

Mixtapes were also a very personal way to express yourself to another person.  How many of us put together mixes for a loved family member or boyfriend/girlfriend?

The process of putting together a mix was almost as important as the finished tape itself.  Songs were played, chosen, rejected, and reordered to set just the right mood or sentiment.  Recording to tape required time and effort because you had to manually create the tape, one song at a time.

Burned CDs and iPod playlists are just not the same.  It’s too easy!  Dragging and dropping files just doesn’t have the same sense of thought and commitment.  They are too easily changed and replaced.

My favorite mixtapes took on their own unique character over time.  Imperfections in the tape, little mistakes in the recording process, the unavoidable and crushing damage caused by heat and time.

Mixtapes also had a lifespan.  We all knew that sooner or later our tape deck would eat our favorite tape and our friend would be gone, to be replaced by some other.

I guess there’s a life lesson in mixtapes.  To everything there is a season.  Things too easily replaced lack an honest and redeeming value.

(check out the “I Miss …” page for other stuff I miss, if you wanna)

Unless a grain of wheat …

/ esteban / 1 Comment


I ran across this article on CNN.com and the accompanying video called “Dying for Life.” It all seems very strange to me, but the idea is to prevent people who are considering suicide from killing themselves. “We can’t understand death simply by talking about it. People truly experience death by participating in it and being reborn.”

Aside from the macabre ideas, I couldn’t help but be reminded about the following passage from the Gospel of John:

Amen, amen, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit.

Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will preserve it for eternal life.

Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there also will my servant be. The Father will honor whoever serves me. (John 12:24-26)

This passage seems to come up from time to time as I think about my life and where it is going. Perhaps it’s a midlife sort of thing, but I seem to have a frequent urge to drastically change my life, to take the road less traveled, to be that radical person who casts his cares aside to seek a different kind of future. A future that encompasses things that are not “what is normally expected.”

Most of the time I feel too cowardly to actually do anything like this. I wonder what it takes to get to that jumping off point and make that “leap of faith”?


To Be Salty

/ esteban / 2 Comments

I have been privileged to know and to have worked with many fine priests.

One of my favorites is Fr. Jack Gleason, pastor of my home parish, the Church of the Madalene, in Tulsa.

Above all, his pastoral care in times of tragedy and trouble has been all I could ever have hoped for.

He is also that rare priest whose homilies frequently seem to bore right into your soul and speak to to you in that special way.  That way which gives you assurance that those words are from God and have particular meaning especially for you.

Fr. Jack’s homily last Sunday was one of those special moments and I wanted to record my thoughts about it while they are still fresh in my mind.

The Gospel reading for the 5th Sunday of Ordinary time (Year A), is from Matthew 5:13-16:

Jesus said to his disciples:
“You are the salt of the earth.
But if salt loses its taste, with what can it be seasoned?
It is no longer good for anything
but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.
You are the light of the world.
A city set on a mountain cannot be hidden.
Nor do they light a lamp and then put it under a bushel basket;
it is set on a lampstand,
where it gives light to all in the house.
Just so, your light must shine before others,
that they may see your good deeds
and glorify your heavenly Father.”

I’ve heard and read this passage many times, but the way the Fr. Jack expounded on it really resounded in me.  I listened to the podcast recording of this homily again and I’m going to paraphrase some of what he said, along with some of my own thoughts.

Christ tells us that we are “the salt of the earth.”  But what does that really mean?  We know that salt is necessary for life.  We also know that salt has no purpose unto itself.   It is useful to flavor and preserve other things.

Christ calls us not to be just virtuous, but also to be “salt.”  That is, to “raise the level of the flavor in every human activity and therefore to transform it.”

“What is ordinary can be delightful if seasoned with joy,with fidelity, and with our good works.”

If salt loses its taste it becomes insipid (bland, without distinctive, interesting, or stimulating qualities).  Apparently, the word “insipid” shares some of the same Greek roots as the word “sophomore,”   (sophos wise + mōros foolish), literally meaning a wise fool.

So, to lose taste, to become bland, is to become foolish. A thing is wisest is when it most knows itself.  It tastes more like what it is meant to be.

“Wise salt” gives flavor to the world and helps preserve what is good.  “Foolish salt” has lost its taste and no longer heightens flavor and no longer preserves anything.  It can only be thrown out and trampled under foot.

Since salt is not for itself but gives flavor to other things, it is directed outward.  Christians likewise, in order to be “salty” are also called to be directed outward.  We are called to do something “out there.”  To do something for “them.”

Insipid, bland Christians are foolish Christians who have forgotten who they truly are.  They have forgotten their role in society.  They have become blended into secular culture and are just as bland as everyone around them.

When we say that someone is “salty,” we usually mean that he uses colorful language.  Even if his language is inappropriate, we would agree that he doesn’t blend in, rather he sticks out and is noticed.

We are called not to blend in but to bring life, to bring flavor, zest and joy of what it means to be a Christian into the world.  We are called to know who we are and not to forget our identity.  If we think like everyone else, act like everyone else, if you can’t tell any difference between us and every other person, what good are we?

When we are what we are meant to be, His salvation will resound throughout the world.  As Catholics, we must show the world who we are, what our distinctive flavor is, and not be afraid to show what makes us different.

Just so, your light must shine before others,
that they may see your good deeds
and glorify your heavenly Father.”

We cannot be the salt of the earth if we hide it from others.  To be salty is also to be the light set on a lampstand for all to see.

So, this leaves us with a new perspective on the Christian journey.  What makes you salty?  What is your distinctive flavor that God asks you to bring to the world?  What are you doing with it?

Why are you hiding?

Home for the Holidays

/ esteban

I haven’t blogged for a bit and this particular post has been rattling around in my head, so it’s time that I have it out.  I don’t know if you, dear reader, will find anything particularly profound in this account, but there is a deep and abiding profundity for me.

Background

The year 2010 was a difficult year for me, as have been the last few years.  I don’t wish to delve into those difficulties but it is important to know that, in December, it brought a certain reluctance for the coming holiday season.  I didn’t foresee any turmoil, more a sense of certain disappointment.

I had no big plans for Christmas or New Years, just a familiar gathering of my family, which while always nice, didn’t portend anything really memorable.  What few friends I have close-by had plans to be elsewhere with their own families.

So, I didn’t have any real expectations for anything other than the status quo ante of 2010.

Consolation

So now, I look back on the period from December 8, 2010 to January 8, 2011 as one of merciful consolation, with a certain amount of redemption, and a heaping bowl of gratitude.

I received many unlooked for gifts during this time.  The best kind of gifts, to be sure.

Feast of the Immaculate Conception

This tale begins on December 8th, the Feast of the Immaculate Conception.  One of my parishes, St. Mary’s, was hosting 40 Hours of Devotion – round the clock Eucharistic Adoration – beginning on Wednesday, December 8th and running until Friday, December 10th.   I’m a big fan of adoration, but haven’t done it regularly for awhile.  I decided to pick up an hour each day at 11:30am.

I began with Mass on the 8th, which also happens to be my mother’s birthday, and the anniversary of my First Communion.  So, it’s always a special day for me.

After Mass and for an hour on the next 2 days, I spent time in St. Mary’s chapel, alone with the Lord.  It was a great time to pray and enjoy the silence. (Of course, anyone familiar with Adoration knows that it’s really a deafening silence.)

Prior to this, I had been lamenting the fact that I hadn’t really embraced the Season of Advent, so this was a very good way to address that as well.

Those few hours really benefited me and centered me in a way that I hadn’t felt in some time.

Christmas Tree

On the 10th of December, my friend Whitney, who works for the Tulsa Housing Authority, called me and volunteered to help me decorate my house for Christmas.  She had just done the same at her office and was in the mood to share the Christmas spirit.

I haven’t decorated my house at Christmas for a couple of year because I rarely have any guests or visitors, but I acquiesced.

I am so grateful for this!  Following on the heels of my time in Adoration, I thoroughly enjoyed our little tree decorating event, along with a dinner of broiled fish and mashed potatoes.  Yes, I know, not really holiday food, but at least it was edible.  I give full credit to Whitney for kicking me out of my doldrums and setting the mood for the rest of the Christmas season.

Whitney has been a true friend since our days at the TU Newman Center.  I could always count on her to liven things up and make them so less serious than they might have otherwise been.   She’s the original “Cookie Girl” and often appeared on my “OntheU” podcast.

Aaron & Jordan Get Married, Patrick Comes to Visit

Aaron & Jordan Guernsey

A week later, on the weekend of the 17th-19th, my friends Aaron and Jordan were married.  They too were regular members of the OntheU crew and their wedding was a joyous occasion and gave me a good reason for me to be around the old Newman Center gang.

Pat Padley drove down for the wedding and stayed at my house for the weekend.  We’ve been friends for 6 years now and he too was one of the original OntheU co-hosts, from the very first episode.

Although this day was for Aaron and Jordan, it brought back together at least 30 Newman Center students and alumni, and for me, it was a wonderful homecoming.

Patrick Padley

The wedding Mass was celebrated by my favorite priest, Fr. Jack.  The Newman Choir, with both past and present members, sang many of the old songs and Mass parts, and it was such a benison to me, soothing away many of the pains that time and distance have inflicted.

A White Christmas

The next weekend, although completely different, was just as awesome and special.

John & Sophie

My good friends, John & Nadine White, had plans to drive from Omaha to Dallas, to spend Christmas with their family.  Since they currently have two small kids, Sophie (3 yrs) and Dominick (10 months), they asked if they could stay at my house one night, and break up their trip.

I was thrilled!  Sophie is my goddaughter and I hadn’t seen her for several months, and I always like spending time with John and Nadine.

John and I have a history that goes back to my earliest days at the Newman Center.  John was one of the first students that I really got to know.  He is from Odessa, Texas, not too far from my old hometown of Hobbs, New Mexico.   He and I have done some serious traveling together, back in the day.

John was part of the first trip I made to Guatemala.  He was part of a pilgrimage group that I helped lead to Rome the spring after he graduated, and along with some of his closest friends, we backpacked through Europe.  We also traveled through Greece and Turkey as part of another pilgrimage.  Later, while he was serving as a Christian Brothers volunteer in Peru, I was lucky to visit him and see the sites, including Machu Picchu.

Dominick & Nadine

It’s a great honor to be Sophie’s godfather, so having them stay with me was a real treat.   I enjoy seeing them in their early adulthood and building their family together.

It also made Christmas that much more special to have Sophie and Dominick at my house.  How can you not have the Christmas spirit with kids around?

Christmas Chili

If there was one sour spot to the whole Christmas season it was unfortunately Christmas Eve Mass.

My aunt likes to go to Christmas Eve Mass at our local Augustinian Prep School – Cascia Hall.  It’s a great school, but I despise going to Mass there.  It’s an awful thing to say, I know, but I always leave there very disappointed.

The Mass was completely packed  with the upper crust of Cascia society – students, parents and alumni, but there was little participation in the Mass.  No singing, no recitation of prayers, and much gazing about to see who else was there.

But go, we did nonetheless.

Christmas Day was a much better experience.  My aunt, my sister, a family friend and my brother-in-law gathered for our traditional Christmas chili, blueberry pie, and ice cream.

I know that chili probably doesn’t sound very traditional to most folks, but we grew up with it, and it was a way to lessen the burden on my parents when we were kids.

Besides, I make a mean pot of chili.  You can get the recipe in this post.

A Return Visit

So what happens after Christmas?  People go home, which means that I had a return visit from the Whites as they made their way back to Omaha.  It was a short visit, but still very enjoyable.  They were a little worse for wear, being on the rode with two small kids for over a week, but they were surviving.

Tanner & Marissa Get Married!

The first week of January was probably the most special part of this whole period.   Two more Newman Center alumni, Tanner & Marissa, were getting married on the 8th of January at Christ the King Church.

Christ the King, Tulsa

CTK is a very beautiful church, built in an art deco style and full of stained glass and mosaics.  It also happens to be the church where my parents were married, my sister Christine was married, and where my brother Kevin was married.

Tanner had asked me some days before if he could stay at my house the week before the wedding, to have some space to himself in the midst of all the final preparations.

So once again, my spare room came into service.

I loved having Tanner at my house and I was also happy to do some little tasks to help out with the wedding preparations.  During the week, I helped him finish the wedding program, had copies made and gave myself blisters as I folded and stapled them.  It was a lot more work than it needed to be, but in the end, they looked really nice.

The couple had asked me to be a reader during their wedding Mass, so I was pleased to

Cheesecake Tarts!

attend their rehearsal and dinner on Friday night, the 7th.

I really like how they did this.

I’ve been to some very formal and some very informal rehearsal dinners.  Tanner and Marissa, in order to be able to spend time with more of their friends, just had pizza brought into the parish hall, had some wonderful desserts, and had a slideshow of photos to entertain folks.   Perfectly acceptable and perfectly enjoyable!

Wedding & Reception

Fr. Matt, Tanner, Marissa, Fr. Brian

Tanner and Marissa’s wedding was fantastic and very much the Newman Center reunion that Aaron and Jordan’s had been.

The celebrants were Fr. Brian O’Brien, president of Bishop Kelley High School, and Fr. Matt Gerlach, chaplain of the Newman Center.

The place was packed with family and friends, the Newman Choir sang, and it was a very special time.  I am very humbled to have been a part and so glad that I could attend.

Wedding Reception @ John Rucker Warehouse

The reception was incredible!  It was basically held in a car garage, an old building in downtown Tulsa that holds a collection of antique cars.  Decorated with lights, tables, chairs, and a live band, and voila!

It took me a whole day to recover!  I arrived after the wedding at 3:30pm and didn’t leave until after 10pm.  More than 6 hours and I’m sure I have some permanent hearing damage!

Nonetheless, it was a terrific time and a perfect way to end a stellar month of celebration.

Strength

A Treasured Gift!

There is more that I could add to this long list of events, but I think I will end it here with some reflection.

The Christmas season was a blessing to me and having the chance to reconnect with so many of my “Newman” family couldn’t have come at a better time.

I’ve been rejuvenated in a new way and it has given me strength for the upcoming year.

I’ll close with a photo of the gift that Tanner and Marissa gave me for participating in their wedding.  I’ve only had it a short while now, but I already treasure it.

I’m sure that Tanner picked this out because he understands what a struggle these past couple of years have been.  Loss of a mission, loss of a job, difficult decisions and uncertain futures.  New missions, new job, new futures and new milestones.

The sentiment on the cross proves to me that he gets it.  And that is the healing that comes with the joy of all the opportunities I had to be “home” for the holidays.

Strength lies in submission which permits one to dedicate his life through devotion, to something beyond himself. – Henry Miller

Ubiquitous Pen Cup

/ esteban / 1 Comment

We all have them.

The ubiquitous pen cup.

Mine is a nifty ceramic cup that I bought in Mexico City, near the Aztec pyramids of Teotihuacan.  But that’s another story …

Tell me, are you’re just like me, or am I a bit to obsessive?

You see, even though I have several nice pens to choose from in this convenient cup on desk, there is only one pen that I really want to use.  So, I will paw through the contents of this cup until I find the one pen.

It may have something to do with being left-handed.  Finding a good pen for left-handed writing is not as easy as it seems.  You righties out there have the luxury of pulling your pen across the paper.  Since we lefties push our pens, a sharp fine pointed pen will often dig into the paper, making for very poor penmanship and a higher level of frustration.

A proper left-handed pen, in my opinion, will glide smoothly over the page when pushed.

My current favorite?  Pilot G-2 10pt (Medium), blue ink.  I accept them as gifts, just so you know.

I know I should just get rid of the other pens in the cup and only stock the G-2.  That just seems too wasteful to me.

Can I send them to you?

Thoughts in a time of cholera

/ esteban / 1 Comment

Current Situational Map of Cholera in Haiti

For the past year I have been part of a group planning to travel to the Society of Our Lady of the Most Holy Trinity (SOLT) mission in Kobonal, Haiti.  We are currently scheduled to go in early November, but as you no doubt know, there is currently an outbreak of a very virulent form of cholera in parts of the country. (A recent update on the situation can be found here, an explanation of the disease can be found here.)

Obviously, this has us greatly concerned and we are monitoring the situation as closely as possible and are in constant communication with the mission.  We will no doubt be making a go/no-go decision sometime in the next few days, as the situation warrants. (One site of particular benefit so far has been BioSurveillance, who made the map above.)

As someone who has taught classes on social justice and thinks about these issues often, I find my mind wandering in many different directions concerning this terrible outbreak and our planned trip.

If you read my previous post about “practical solidarity,” you might understand what I mean when I say that I’m not particularly concerned about contracting cholera should I go to Haiti in the next few days.  I am confident that I have access to all the things I need to prevent exposure to the bacteria, and should I get it, to the resources needed to treat the disease and secure evacuation back to the United States.

That comes with being an American with the means to go to Haiti in the first place.  The injustice in this is the situation facing the people of Haiti.  It is an incredibly poor country in the first place, devastated by an enormous earthquake just 9 months ago, and now facing a cholera outbreak presumably caused by recent heavy rains that contaminated the rivers which provide water.  What an injustice for a people to be continually beaten down by such circumstances?

I have the luxury of making the decision not to go, not to put myself in any sort of peril because of this situation.  That’s the easy choice to make.  Except that it’s not.

My decision to become a part of this group and go to Haiti was prompted by a deeply placed yet inchoate sense of mission.  I’ve made almost 20 trips to Central America over the past 10 years and it has left me with a desire to do something, to make some contribution to the work of the Church in those mission areas.

When I first met Fr. Glenn Meaux of the SOLT mission in Kobonal, it didn’t take me long to decide to be part of the group going to assist his work.  (Learn about the mission here.)  The work he is doing is so important to the people there and I would like to use my meager skills to be of some assistance, if I can.

It is frustrating to contemplate postponing our trip again (we delayed going last April because of the January earthquake), but I completely understand the reasons why we must consider it.

I hope we can still go.  I hope we can be of service to the people of Kobonal.  But, not because I will it, but because God wills it.  It is frustrating to wait for the “perfect time” to go, when I feel there will never be a “perfect time” in a country like Haiti.

I’ll let ya know.

Practical Solidarity

/ esteban / 2 Comments

Today, class, I would like to write about the social justice theme of “solidarity.”  But, before I begin, I would like you to do something for me.  Close your eyes for a few seconds and visualize your concept of “solidarity” as if you are an American visiting another country.

…

Before I visit another country, such as my upcoming trip to Haiti, I like to reflect on the Catholic Church’s teachings on social justice.  I think it is important to be reminded of these teachings  and prepare oneself for new experiences and new challenges of understanding when away from one’s home.

One of the principle themes of those teachings is the concept of solidarity.  The USCCB website has a page that gives scriptural references for this teaching, as well as excerpts from various papal encyclicals and other documents.  Here is a basic statement of what solidarity means from that page  (link here).

[Solidarity] is not a feeling of vague compassion or shallow distress at the misfortunes of so many people, both near and far. On the contrary, it is a firm and persevering determination to commit oneself to the common good; that is to say, to the good of all and of each individual, because we are all really responsible for all.
On Social Concern (Sollicitudo rei Socialis), #38

This definition and the others you might find in Catholic writings give you a sense of what solidarity means but not a very good practical perspective from which to work from.

So, here is my attempt at providing some practical advice for anyone, Americans in particular, who are trying to be “in solidarity” with others in another country.

The photo attached to this entry is the best that I could find to illustrate how I view solidarity.

If you “google” for images representing solidarity, you will most likely find photos of people holding hands in one form or another.  That only goes so far in my definition because it only represents a joining together for a common purpose.  Those photos most often imply an equality between the people represented by the hands.

Something like this.

In this photo, everyone is equal and assumably working toward a common goal.  That sort of equality is certainly something to be strived for, but a practical perspective would be different.

In the first photo, a group of people have brought what they have to the problem and are helping another overcome an obstacle.  The boy climbing the wall was given the boost he needed and is solving the problem on his own as best as he can given his own talents, knowledge and gifts.

OK, you’re probably saying to yourself that this is as naive a definition as any, but let me back this up a bit from my own experiences.

Early in my career as a campus minister, I traveled to a small mountain town in northern Nicaragua to visit one of our graduates.  He and another young man were working as Jesuit Volunteers in a local Catholic school.  Two other Americans were in the town, doing social service work for the Peace Corps.  The difference in approach between these two groups couldn’t have been much greater.

The two Peace Corps volunteers had gone “native,” so to speak.  To be in solidarity with the locals, they had adopted their clothing, walked barefoot, lived in a hut, and ate the local food.  They gave up  a normal sense of hygiene and stopped shaving or cutting their hair.  They were trying to “be” one of the locals, taking it to an idealized extreme.

Behind their backs, the locals were laughing at them because they didn’t want the Peace Corps volunteers to be like them.  They were trying to be more like Americans, seeking out a more prosperous lifestyle of fancy clothes, electronics, and sleek hairstyles.

My two JV friends had a more practical approach, and this is what I try to remind myself when I travel.

  • As an American, I can never be one of the locals.
  • My culture and upbringing is based on a sense of opportunity that has been inculcated into how I see the world.  Many people in other countries have never had that.  Their sense of what is possible is much more limited.
  • I see the world with a sense of optimism that things can change.  The feeling of desperation that burdens so many cultures is missing in my world.
  • I can never set aside how I view the world as an American and see it as others do.  It is impossible.
  • I have to realize that the way I solve problems will be different because of my culture and personal experiences.  I cannot force my preferred solution to a problem without the risk of trodding on their culture and unique understanding.

Here’s an example that I used to tell the students when we were preparing to visit Guatemala.  On my first trip to the Lake Atitlan region, we passed a group of 10 or so men cutting the grass alongside the highway.  The men were using machetes to cut the grass, a few blades at a time with each swipe of the blade.  I asked our guide why they just didn’t use a tractor or some sort of mower and finish the job quickly.

His answer, simple as it was, put this whole question into perspective for me.

“It allows us to employ ten men for a whole day, rather than one man for a few hours.”

American efficiency says that the job should be done quickly.  Guatemalan efficiency says that the job should be done so that the most people can earn a wage.  The cost in terms of money would probably be about the same but the preferred outcomes are different.

I’ve always remembered that and I try to take that into account when suggesting a solution to a problem when visiting another country.  Their culture, their goals, their solutions may be very different from mine, but as equally valid.  Perhaps more valid, than mine.

So, my definition of being in “solidarity” means:

  • I have to be who I am.
  • I have to let others be who they are.
  • I have to respect what makes us different (cultures, perspectives, dreams, aspirations, etc.)
  • I should offer what I have to offer freely.
  • I should accept what others have to offer freely.
  • We all should work together to solve problems, seeking solutions with an understanding of our differences, needs and goals.

So you see?  Solidarity is really another way of defining another one of the Church’s social justice themes, that of human dignity and the fact that we are all made in the image and likeness of God and should treat each other that way.

Aren’t we a smart Church?

Haitians prepare for polls

/ esteban / 1 Comment

Here’s a sobering article about the upcoming elections in Haiti.

http://www.iol.co.za/news/world/haitians-prepare-for-polls-1.681956

My upcoming trip to Haiti will occur before these elections.  I have to admit that it has me a bit worried to be traveling there during the run up to that vote.  Given the heartbreaking conditions of so many people, I would be surprised if the elections don’t become a focal point of the people’s frustrations and despair.  How could it not?  If you are an avid follower of world news, you may remember the political violence that has erupted in Haiti in the past.

I’ve been in Guatemala and Nicaragua during similar times in those countries, and as an American, I was very much the conspicuous outsider.  I soon learned why the State Department warns Americans to stay away from any political demonstrations or unknown crowds of people.  Political violence can erupt quickly and frequently in other countries and as a foreigner it is difficult to see it coming or to understand it.

Political parties in many countries also seem to encourage a greater degree of passion, and perhaps, a greater sense of identity than they do in the United States.  Eight or nine years ago, I was traveling in Nicaragua just after the nationwide mayoral elections.  At that time, most of the cities and towns elected mayors from one of the liberal parties and not  candidates from the infamous Sandinista party.

Let’s just say, that the Sandinistas were not happy about it.  One day, I happened to be riding in a small pickup from a small mountain town, called Cusmapa, to the capital in Managua, with the newly re-elected mayor of Cusmpa.  A member of the liberal party, the mayor became a bit worried while passing through a known Sandinista town.  Members of the party with their trademark red and black flags were protesting the election results by barricading the main highway and tying up traffic in both directions.

Mr. Mayor, with his gringo cargo in tow, and pistol in lap, carefully threaded the barricade as inconspicuously as possible.  While nothing happened, it is still a vivid reminder of how different the world can be and how insulated I was as a naive American.  It is one of the few times during my travels abroad when I felt particularly scared because I didn’t truly understand the situation I found myself in.

So, during my trip to Haiti, I will keep my eyes open and rely on the knowledge and advice of our hosts to avoid finding myself in any similar sort of situation.

Prayers for the people of Haiti and for the new government that they are electing.  With God’s grace, I hope they can continue rebuilding their country and end the corruption that has plagued them for so long.

Registration by Cell Phone

/ esteban

My friend Lisa Hendey pointed out this article on the Aggie Catholic website.  I thought it was a neat way of using new technologies for the age-old problem of getting people to register for their parish/campus ministry.

The article states well how hard it is to get college students to take the time to fill out a registration card.  Using the context of Mass, when the students are all gathered together, is an idea that most campus ministries already use.  The idea of doing it by cell phone while they are sitting in the pews is new and innovative.

I know that some people will complain about doing something like this during Mass, with good reason.  However, in my opinion, the benefit of actually knowing who your community is and how they can best be served by your ministry, outweighs this one time disruption.

Let’s be honest, is this really worse than having DDF or mission appeals during homilies?  I don’t think so.

http://marysaggies.blogspot.com/2010/09/why-we-asked-our-parishioners-to-bring.html

"Rather Beg Than Steal"

/ esteban / 1 Comment

Everyone involved in ministry eventually encounters a panhandler.  As a campus minister, I dealt with a few every semester, usually during the colder weather.  I had different ways of dealing with them, depending on the situation. As a student center, and not a parish, we didn’t have any resources at hand to help the general public in need, so I would either try to send them along to a nearby parish, let them know how to contact a social services agency, or give them a few bucks out of my own pocket.

Catholic social justice teaching encourages us to have a special “option for the poor,” a calling to do more for those in most need, to lift them up out of poverty which cuts them off from so much more than just monetary considerations.  The problem is compounded by not knowing just how to help a particular person and not knowing the truth and legitimacy of the need.

If you drive around most cities, you will often see a “panhandler” standing at an intersection, holding a sign of some sort, hoping for donations from a passerby.  These fleeting encounters tug at our heartstrings and force us to make a quick decision in the time before the traffic light changes.

Perhaps I’ve become a little callous because of the encounters I’ve had before, but I have to be honest and say that I don’t trust these drive-by panhandlers.  I don’t feel compelled to help them in this way.  Instead, I try to find other ways to help the poor in my community.

Just a few minutes ago, I passed a man at a particularly busy intersection.  He was holding a crumpled rumpled cardboard sign with the message “Rather Beg Than Steal” scrawled upon it.  I’ve seen this particular phrase before, but today I caught my attention and made me pensive about its meaning.

Is this a statement of personal conviction?  Is this a warning, meant to guilt us into helping out as a way of preventing a crime?

I would prefer to see it as a plea for understanding, a plea of distress, a last resort before surrendering dignity and morality in the face of truly dire straits.  Does this make me want to give to this man more than before?

When my youngest nephew was confirmed, Bishop Curlin, now Bishop Emeritus of the Diocese of Charlotte, told us a story of traveling in India with Mother Teresa.  While walking the streets of Calcutta, Mother Teresa stopped to minister to a dying man on the streets.  Later, Bishop Curlin asked her how she always found the strength to reach out to others.  Paraphrasing from my poor memory, she said that “the Christ in her speaks to the Christ in others.”

Being made in the image and likeness of God, we know that Christ is in each human being, even if he doesn’t recognize it or accept it.  Basic human dignity compels us to help.  Upon reflection, I do feel a bit of guilt for not giving money to the man soliciting on the corner.

I know that 9 out of 10 such donations are probably not going to people who truly need the help.  This money is probably going to feed an addiction or for other spurious purposes. But perhaps that 1 out of 10 is enough.

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit upon his glorious throne,

and all the nations will be assembled before him. And he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats.

He will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.

Then the king will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.

For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me,

naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.’

Then the righteous will answer him and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink?

When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you?

When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?’

And the king will say to them in reply, ‘Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.’

(Matthew 25:31-40)

Open Road

/ esteban / 2 Comments

"No Man's Land" - Oklahoma Panhandle

I love traveling.  In particular, I love driving.  I especially love driving the open roads of the Llano Estacado and the high mountain deserts of West Texas, New Mexico and Arizona.  This is where I grew up.  If you’ve never driven those wide empty plains and experienced the sense of freedom that comes with it, it is hard to explain the attraction.

The photo above is from my most recent trip westward, through the Panhandle of Oklahoma and into the northeastern corner of New Mexico.  The empty highway, void of heavy traffic, induce a meditative state, yet still alert, that allows my mental processes the freedom to explore all sorts of new possibilities, new explanations, as well as those unspoken fears and questions found deep down inside.

I imagine this is what contemplative prayer is like.  I’ve never quite been able to accomplish this same level of mental freedom or release in prayer.  It is elusive and frustrating.  Usually, my thoughts are disordered, somewhat frantic in nature and undisciplined when I’m trying to be meditative or contemplative.  I’ve been told that I can learn to do this better with practice.  The open road, perhaps paired with the mental act of driving, is a better environment for me.

I have loved the open road ever since I learned to drive the summer after my 16th birthday.  I have undoubtedly driven hundreds of thousands of miles, yet my thoughts often go back to my first experiences of driving on the Llano Estacado in and around Hobbs, New Mexico.  The long straight roads, with the warm air blowing through the open windows, have ever since been my favorite kind of solitude.  I must do it more often.

My aunt says that we have “gypsy blood” because everyone in my family is much like me.  At any given moment, at least one of us is traveling somewhere.  Perhaps you, dear reader, are like me, itching to go at a moments notice, to be somewhere other than “here.”

Although at times it can seem like a curse, when responsibilities and the needs of others take precedence, there is always a sense of excitement and anticipation when the next journey approaches.  The next several months are offering several opportunities.  Some familiar places to visit and some new ones.

I can hardly wait!

Remembering Hershey

/ esteban / 2 Comments

Hershey

I am sad today.

I just spoke with my brother and learned that their 13-yr old border collie passed away in the night.  Her name was Hershey and she was an awesome dog.  Sweet, loyal and brilliantly intelligent as only border collies can be.

I know it’s not unusual to say this, but my family has always had a strong attachment to its dogs and Hershey was a particular favorite among all of us.  It was heart wrenching to listen to my brother express his grief for an animal that was definitely an integral part of their family.  My brother’s kids, two sons and a daughter, have not heard this news as I write this.   It will be terrible for them too.

St. Thomas Aquinas, I believe, said that all living things have a soul, but only humans have eternal souls.  It comes from our unique relationship with God and that we were made in His image.   That is an awesome gift that we all fail to fully appreciate.

Perhaps there is still a special place in heaven for those animals that touch our lives.  It is obvious that they have touched our souls at least as much as we have touched theirs.

Bye-bye Hershey.

Bún chả giò & fortune cookies

/ esteban / 2 Comments

I had lunch today at my favorite Vietnamese restaurant, and I had my favorite dish, called Bún chả giò.   Don’t ask me how to pronounce it.  I’ve never gotten it right and now I’m rather embarrassed to try, so I just point at it in the menu and mumble something that sounds something like “boon chow gow.”  The server never laughs outright, so I tip really big.

Bún chả giò

This picture looks something like what I had.  What I find most interesting about the dish is the wonderful mix of textures.  It is layered with a bit of fresh salad, noodles, strips of Vietnamese style beef, and sliced egg rolls, and a bit of a sweet sauce.   I love it!

I always feel a little proud when I take someone new to this restaurant.  My parents, particularly my mom, was very good at getting us to try new restaurants and new foods whenever we were out and about.  I think this must be a bit uncommon because the usual reaction I get from my friends when I suggest going there is an immediate dubious look and the immediate search for excuses or an alternative restaurant suggestion.

Most of the time, though, when my dining companions are brave enough to try the place, they rave about the cuisine and I feel a small sense of accomplishment in introducing them to something new.

This particular place also ends the meal with the traditional Chinese fortune cookie.  I’m pretty sure they don’t have these in Vietnam, and they probably don’t have them in China either.   I’m guessing it’s just a bit of Americanization that customers have come to expect.

You have probably noticed too, that the “fortunes” in the cookies have stopped, for the most part, being fortunes but are more like proverbs.   Today’s little tidbit was something special though.  An affirmation!  It read “Other enjoy your radiance.”

My immediate reaction upon reading the little slip of paper was to joke about it.  It told my aunt, who was with me, that it was like getting a “get out of jail free” card in the game of Monopoly.  The next time someone accuses me of being cranky, I can just whip out this little slip of paper and say, “Oh yeah?  Look here, others enjoy my radiance and here’s proof!”

Upon reflection, I’ve decided that this is really a great compliment to give someone.  We, as flawed and fallible humans, can exude so much about ourselves.  Wouldn’t it be nice if that was really something radiant?  Perhaps that pentecostal grace of the Holy Spirit, really imbibing us with joy and determination, can really be seen by others in how we conduct our lives.

I’m going to keep this little slip of paper in my wallet and the next time I see that radiance in someone, I’ll try to slip it to them in a way that doesn’t tarnish them.

Cathartic Cleaning

/ esteban

“I am not a hoarder!” he says, trying to be convincing.    Today is a big day for me.  I finally got rid of my old, still functioning, TRS-80 Model III computer.  I still remember the day in 1981 when I plunked down $999 at the Radio Shack store in Hobbs, New Mexico.  The beginning of almost 30 years of computing which has taken me around the world and back home again.

My friend Mark first showed me what a TRS-80 could do when we were freshman in the dorms at Oklahoma State. I’ve been hooked ever since.  Through the days of green screen monitors, 300 baud modems, dot matrix printers, arthritis causing keyboards, buggy software, computer viruses, Compuserve, AOL, MS-DOS, …    (For the record, I’m a Mac guy now, so most of those problems have gone away.  Ha!)

That Model III was a great machine for its time.  I even managed to write my master’s degree thesis on it.  Mind you, this was long before MS Office existed, but it still passed the scrutiny of the “ruler lady” in the Graduate College office who judged the formatting of my finished thesis.

So why am I now parting with this piece of Esteban-lore?  Because it is Lent.

Usually, during Lent, I try to do something penitential, such as giving up meat or caffeine, as a small reminder of Christ’s passion.  This year, I decided that I wanted to do something different.  Something more liberating, more freeing.

I am reminded of the man in the Gospel of Mark who asks Jesus about how to inherit eternal life. The Lord tells him to sell his possessions, give to the poor, and follow Him.  The man went away sad because he had many possessions.

I’m really not a hoarder, but I tend to hang on to things much longer than I need to.  I have been “planning” a garage sale for about 10 years but never got around to it.  I have the habit of keeping things for that “someday when I might need it.”

So, for this Lent, enough is enough.  I’m parting with many of the things that I’ve been carrying around like extra baggage.  Parting with my trusty old Model III, by donating it to Goodwill for recycling, was a first step that will make further donations easier.  It was a bit of personal history that was really meaningless in the big scheme of things.

It’s been rather cathartic, a cleansing of my physical estate, a prelude to the cleansing of my spiritual estate that will come during the remainder of Lent and the confession and solemnity of Holy Week, yet to come.

Join me!

"I'm aware of my tongue!!"

/ esteban / 1 Comment

Peanuts

(Peanuts free online comic strip library at comics.com)

Peanuts has always been one of my favorite comic strips.  I don’t remember when I first saw this particular strip (first published in 1963), but just like Linus’ tongue, this one has stuck with me for many years.

I think I’m a little bit OCD and trying to tell me not to think of something is only going to make me think of it more.

My friend BK and I used to play the pink elephant game.  He would always get mad at me whenever I would come up to him and say “Pink elephant!!” because you cannot hear the words without actually thinking of a pink elephant.  OK, it’s a rather stupid game, but I’m sure you thought of one just now.

Go ahead, admit it!

Just don’t leave this post thinking of your tongue.  It will dwive you cwazy.

VENI, Creator Spiritus

/ esteban

Last night I was reminded why I love working with college students so much.  I attended part of the TEC (Together Encounter Christ) retreat being offered by my diocese this weekend.  After participating in some of the festivities offered for the greater TEC community, I attended a reflection given by one of the student leaders.  I am so thankful for every moment I get to spend with these kids.

This particular reflection was given by a young woman gave a deeply personal and honest reflection on her struggles with weight and self-esteem, diagnoses of depression and eating disorders, abuse of medications and harmful behaviors.  She also spoke eloquently and with humor about her struggles to know and understand her relationship with God.

And she spoke about peace.

Peace in the acceptance of things she can’t change (echoes of the Desiderata), peace in the knowing that life is a journey of hardships, of learning and re-learning, and peace in the support of friends and family.

There is such wisdom in such a young person who is facing her battles and seeing the face of God in those around her and accepting what they can give in the knowing.  An understanding of the Christian journey and the hand of the Holy Spirit as companion.

VENI, Creator Spiritus,
mentes tuorum visita,
imple superna gratia
quae tu creasti pectora.

COME, Holy Spirit, Creator blest,
and in our souls take up Thy rest;
come with Thy grace and heavenly aid
to fill the hearts which Thou hast made.