Grace By Association

It’s a blue Sunday.

Yesterday our youngest son, Trevor, graduated from Saint John Vianney College Seminary and the University of St. Thomas—summa cum laude, with degrees in philosophy and Catholic studies. We drove into the Twin Cities for the ceremony (a commute I made daily for work for more than a decade and we used to make regularly as a family for martial arts classes, concerts, and more). We went to Cecil’s Deli, one of Trevor’s favorite places, for a late lunch and then packed up his dorm. He said goodbye to his brother seminarians—a group of great young men from several dioceses with whom he has lived, laughed, learned, and prayed for the past four years. (Can it have been four years?). Then, we headed home.

Last night we were up late while Trevor sorted his belongings into three groupings: stuff he needs this summer, stuff to get rid of, and stuff to bring with us to North Dakota when we move. We had breakfast after Mass this morning; he wrote some thank-yous and checked the oil on our reliable blue Elantra—and at about 12:15 PM, he left the only home he’s ever known, likely for the last time.

It’s been a whirlwind week or so. Our older daughter Emma was married a week ago yesterday and moved to Sioux City with her husband Isaac, leaving the only house she remembers. (She was a baby when we arrived here.) Our older sons, Brendan and Brother Jude, along with Brendan’s family, were here for the wedding. Last time the family will gather here, our home for 23 years…

Thank you, Lord, for Lily. We’re not ready to be alone in this!

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See-Through Vessel

Lord, make of me a monstrance,
The Eucharist as my heart,
That all may see your light in me
And know how great Thou art.

I wrote that little prayer-poem 14 years ago, and it has become a regular, private prayer nearly every time I receive the Blessed Sacrament. Like so many little prayers of mine, I pray it in earnest, but wonder if it will ever bear fruit.

I recently started a new job writing for the University of Mary. This required me to step away from most of my parish writing duties, so, at the August monthly staff meeting, Father invited my colleagues to offer their thoughts and affirmation of the work I’ve done over the past five years.

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Wednesday Witness: Let Yourself Be Loved

We are blessed to be hosting two young women from the NET team leading retreats for our St. Michael Catholic School middle-level students this week. It’s a wonderful opportunity to practice hospitality in our own home, underscoring the wisdom of the old saying, “It’s better to give than to receive.” We feel very blessed to open our home, to share our food, to visit and pray with people who are making themselves available to our daughter Lily and her classmates in such a beautiful, faith-filled way.

But the gift of giving is not what this column is about. Instead, I want to focus on the gift of receiving.

These two young women came into our home not knowing at all what to expect. We have a large and overfriendly dog and a house that comprises a wide array of half-finished renovations. We had a supper plan made independently of them. We knew nothing about them and wanted them to be comfortable, so we asked questions, provided options, and generally talked their ears off.

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Wednesday Witness: Wanting What You Have

There’s a saying I ran across somewhere:

Contentment isn’t having what you want but wanting what you have.

At the time it seemed like wisdom, and there is a grain of truth in it: The more stuff we accumulate, the more we tend to want, so getting everything you want not only doesn’t lead to contentment, but creates a self-defeating cycle of desire for bigger, better, and just MORE things.

Mostly I have made peace with not having the best of everything, and I’ve reached a point in my life at which I am trying to detach and downsize. However, as I attempt to rid myself of so much stuff, I find that I do want what I have. I want it a great deal.

For example, I have accumulated a lot of books over the years. The ones I’ve read and kept are wonderful, and although I could get them at the library if I wanted to read them again, I love my collection and struggle to decide which volumes to part with. The books I haven’t read, I keep in the earnest if foolish hope that I will find time to read them one day soon. Then, I tell myself, if I am unlikely to reread them, I can get rid of them. Why should I get rid of them now?

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Wednesday Witness: ‘You Can’t Save the World’

This column is part of a new, weekly series on what the Lord is doing in my heart, specifically encouraging me to simplify my own life in order practice the virtue of charity and the Corporal and Spiritual Works of Mercy. Come back each Wednesday to read the latest!

I’ve always been a big-hearted and emotional fellow. As a grade-schooler, I tried to intervene when those who were littler than me (not many) were being bullied. Invariably, I took a thumping myself. But I couldn’t help it: I hurt to see others hurt.

Whenever I got wound up about some injustice or suffering, real or imaginary, Dad would say, “You can’t save the world.”

What he taught me, instead, was how to stand up for myself, to treat others with respect, and to look out for my own—my family and close friends, those whom I could count on to help take care of me.

Dad was right: I can’t save the world. I can’t even save myself. Jesus is the sole Savior of the world, and—thanks be to God—it is accomplished (John 19:30).

But I don’t think our eternal salvation is what Dad meant.

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