Eat Your Vegetables

Recently, I came across a news story in which the US Congress named pizza as a vegetable. Now, I like pizza, and it can be relatively healthy depending on the crust type, sauce and toppings. But, no matter how much tomato paste or sauce, a vegetable it is not.

I suppose the thought behind such a ruling is that the tomato sauce under the cheese has enough actual tomatoes to qualify as a bona fide vegetable. And, with a one year old who is starting to have a more discriminating palate, I understand the concept behind strategically and covertly placing vegetables in food (we have to do the same thing to Elizabeth with meat!). To suppose that getting kids to eat real vegetables is impossible is defeatist. To suppose that encouraging the consumption of pizza as a replacement for vegetables is immoral.

Making a pizza and passing it off as a vegetable is undoubtedly cheaper and unhealthier than securing and preparing fresh and unprocessed vegetables.

This is yet another example of our country's woeful treatment of its children. It is another example of big business dictating what's best for us. It's another example of our country's stubbornness to change to meet the best interest of its children.

For example, research proves that a long summer break makes it harder for students to retain knowledge. Yet, summer breaks remain and will most likely never be replaced with year round (interspersed with more frequent, albeit smaller breaks) school. We know that recess and physical activity is good to combat childhood obesity and is a good stress relief, especially for our sedentary and technologically dependent society. Still, many schools are cutting such programs because of a lack of funds. The arts can inspire, enliven, improve behavior, and increase math scores. Sadly, many schools have eliminated the fine and performing arts classes and clubs.

Bankers who needed government bailouts live in excess. We pay millions of dollars to professional athletes and hundreds to see them play insignificant (with all due respect to the Patriots and Giants) games. News stories are sensationalized to attract the largest viewing audience. Potential political candidates raise and spend millions of dollars trying to sway votes. Once elected they pass legislation to call pizza a vegetable.

We waste millions of dollars but can't seem to find the money to do what's best for our kids.

America is a great country, the greatest in the world. But, in order to remain this way and not get left behind by other countries who have somehow managed to give health care to all citizens and educate students to be some of the top thinkers and innovators in the world, we must do more than lower our standards for our children's health and overall well-being. Doing something as simple as involving children in the production and preparation of vegetables and other healthy foods can make them more interested in trying them (ICS Garden). But, school gardens cost money. Taking the time to teach children about their health benefits and ways in which they can be prepared takes effort.

Money, time, effort. We sacrifice these things for so many less important things. We must be willing to sacrifice them for the sake of our children.

If not, we may as well save Congress some time and taxpayers some dollars by declaring Jolly Ranchers candy a fruit.

Standing on the Shoulders of Giants

Sir Isaac Newton, in a quote about his many accomplishments, humbly stated, "If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of giants." Newton understood that his intelligence and all of his many discoveries depended on others' abilities, talents and knowledge of his teachers, predecessors, colleagues and rivals. Newton unarguably possessed innate intelligence and would have undoubtedly risen to some level of excellency on his own. But, because of those who had gone before him, taught him, challenged him, and supported him, Newton wasn't just excellent.

He was legendary.

He is legendary.

In many ways, all of us can "see further" because of the giants upon whose shoulders we stand. In many ways, for many of us grandparents serve as those giants. While parents do the grunt work and most of our formation, grandparents give us a sense of stability. Grandparents give us a sense of history. Grandparents give us a sense of belonging. They are living proof that all will be okay- all of our many trials and catastrophes of today will pass into memories of tomorrow. They may have been the first people in our families to go to college, come to this great country, speak English, start a business or convert to Catholicism. Maybe they worked multiple jobs to send our parents to school. Maybe they served in WWII, Korea, Vietnam or the first Gulf War. Maybe they unabashedly hang on to their cultural traditions, their native language and their sense of style. When we stand on their shoulders, we get a better sense of who we are because it gives us a better sense of who we were. We can see further because of them.

We may thank grandparents for the large checks that come in the mail on birthdays and Christmas. We may appreciate them for their stories of how things used to be. We may laugh at their eccentricities or joke at how set they are in their ways. Chances are good, though, that we don't necessarily recognize them for the gift of faith. Not only are they responsible for igniting some sort of faith within our parents, they are ultimately responsible for the spark in our own hearts, too. Whether they are believers who pray a Rosary after every daily Mass, or non-Church goers who believe that, just like hospitals are only for those who are sick, churchers are only for sinners, some aspect of the grace present in our lives was made manifest by their faithfulness.

Our Catholic Church and our Catholic Schools can definitely see further because of their faithfulness. Baltimore Catechists and instructed by the good sisters and nuns, priests and brothers of the golden age of Catholicism in this country, their belief and faith in not only the Church but also its educational system has helped to sustain us through scandals, economic hardships and other reasons cited for dwindling Church attendance and Catholic School enrollment. They gave our Parishes the traditions of our Carnivals, Festivals, Fish Fry's, Shrines, Collections. They may have even been responsible for helping to build its actual walls. They went to our schools when there were 50 students from various grade levels in the same classroom taught by the same saintly sister. Many of them had brothers, sisters and cousins who entered the priesthood and religious life.

Just like in our human families, our grandparents supply our Churches and Schools with history, tradition, foundation and stability. They remind us that these institutions have been through much worse than our current situations and that they will, because of our faithfulness, remain long after we are gone. They are the giants supplying the shoulders allowing us to see further than they did.

They are our models. They are our inspiration for someday helping others to see further than we can right now.

They are our past. They are hope for our future.

They are legendary.

They are giants. They are grandparents.          

Become Who You Were Born To Be

In one of my favorite movies of all time, "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King", Elrond (the King of the Elves) tells Aragorn (the rightful albeit reluctant King of Gondor) to "Put aside the Ranger. Become who you were born to be." It is the moment in the trilogy in which Aragorn finally starts to accept his bloodline, his heritage, his position as King. It is the moment where he becomes that which and who he was created to be.

The Gospel reading from this upcoming Sunday, the first Sunday but the beginning of the second week of Ordinary Time, follows a similar theme (John 1: 35 - 42). Jesus meets Andrew and his brother Simon for the first time. After one look at Simon he changes not only his name (Peter) but also his role in the world. Putting aside the fisherman, Peter is to become the Rock upon which Jesus will build His Church. While Peter's path to fulfilling his potential after this moment is anything but rock-solid, in this moment Jesus changes Peter's course. It is the moment that Peter starts to become who he was born to be.

Tomorrow marks the end of the Church's Vocation Awareness Week, a week to focus on and pray for an increase to priestly and religious vocations within the Catholic Church. Incarnation Catholic School had a priest, Fr. David Toups, come to speak to our students about vocations. We prayed the Prayer for Vocations as a school community every day during morning prayer. At Mass on Wednesday another class was given the Vocations Cross, beginning their week-long focus on praying for an increase in vocations (this, by the way, is a weekly practice with the Cross rotating among the different classes of the school).

But, every week in a Catholic School should be Vocation Awareness Week. Our goal should be threefold: to evangelize, to catechize and to educate. In accomplishing this mission, we should be able to ignite the faith and cultivate the intellect in such a way that young people give serious thought and consideration to a priestly or religious vocation. If Catholic Schools are doing what they are supposed to do, priests, brothers, deacons, sisters and nuns should naturally result because of our efforts.

Vocations should be a natural result because our goal should encompass helping all students to become who they were created to be. The truth is, everyone has a vocation. Not everyone is called to priestly or religious life; but everyone is called. Jesus is giving all of us a new name and a new role. He is calling out to us. He is giving each of us a vocation.

Vocation, from the Latin vocare, meaning "to call".

Are we listening? Do we even know how to listen? Do we recognize His voice? Can we hear it above the incessant noise of the world? Do we have the courage to answer His call? Especially if the call is to the priesthood or religious life?

If Catholic Schools are doing things right, the answer to the questions above should be an irrevocable and resounding yes. Our students should know that God's vocation for them is beyond their hearts' greatest desire. They should believe that following this vocation will give them greater fulfillment than they could ever imagine.

They should be taught to listen for God's call. Make vocation, in the broad and general sense, yet intimately connected to priesthood and religious life, a constant refrain.

They should be taught how to listen. Teach them scripture and examples of others- Mary, Joseph, Peter, Paul, Moses, Noah, Samuel-  responding to God's call. Teach them how to pray and that prayer must not always be us barking at God. Teach them that praying also needs to entail sitting in God's presence listening. Teach them that listening means unplugging and does not require a controller or earbud.

They should be encouraged to boldly go where and do what God is asking of them. This is counter-cultural. It may not bring fame. It may not bring fortune. It may not be easy. It may not make sense to others. It will, however, bring fulfillment to themselves, to others, and to establishing the Kingdom of God.

Be blessed.

Be bold.

Be who God created you to be.

Become who you were born to be. 

The Reason

It was so long ago. It took Him so long to come.

But, come he did.

Angels sang praises to God for this Child’s birth.

People from distant lands gave gifts foretelling His future worth.

He lived,

He died,

He lived again.

All so that you and I may share in this Life.

Born of a virgin,

            An apparent impossibility

Born in a barn,

            Among cows and sheep

Born with the responsibility of saving mankind.

He was divine– a great Prince with the royalist of blood.

But, fortunately He was more than just that:

                HE WAS ONE OF US.

He laughed,

            He cried,

                        He yelled, failed, loved...died.

He died.

He died.

He died.

The most powerful of Kings, more powerful than life or death

Subjected Himself to both before conquering each one.

He lowered Himself to pain, suffering, humility-

            To death on a tree

                        For nothing less than all humanity.

He entered the world like a slave

            And left it like a criminal.

Because of Him Death lost its sting on human souls.

He triumphed by living after it.

So that we,

            If we choose

                        Could do the same.

Jesus’ birth was a miracle.

His life was a ministry.

His death, a tragedy.

His Resurrection was the reason for the miracle.

And He,

            In all of His magnificence,

                        Is the Reason for the season. 

Emmanuel

In John, Chapter 3, verse 16, we hear, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.”

Like John the Baptist growing inside of Elizabeth, we, too, should leap for joy upon hearing this message. God loved us so much that he gave us His only Son, so that we could have eternal life. Just the fact that eternal life in Heaven is possible to us should set our hearts on fire for God.

The mystery of the Incarnation changed the world. If Jesus doesn’t come, we don’t have Christmas, we don’t have the New Testament, we don’t have the death or (more importantly) the Resurrection. We don’t have a Catholic Schools. We don’t celebrate the Eucharist. We don’t have salvation.

And even though we understand the Incarnation to have this kind of impact, we don’t always appreciate it. Our wonder and awe of how Mary gave birth to the Son of God gets overshadowed by candy canes and gingerbread.

So, in the spirit of Jesus’ parables, let us consider the Incarnation from another perspective:

For God so loved the world…

Max had always loved ducks. For years he had enjoyed them returning in the warm summer months to the lake outside of his cottage. He would spend his days watching them, at night he would lay out more seed for them to eat. The ducks became the subject of his paintings, a recent hobby he had acquired. Max even went so far as to name two of his favorites: Herb and Norma. He would pray for their young offspring. He would delight in their swimming and flying, playing and quacking. It was joyous for Max to have these ducks visit his pond year after year. In fact, it was the best part of his life.

…that He gave His only Son…

Max had lived in the cottage for his entire life. As it sat on a coastal town, Hurricanes had become second nature for Max. Too old to evacuate, and really nowhere else to go, he would hunker down, boarding up his windows, stockpiling water, batteries, candles, and other necessities, but would otherwise be unfazed by the powerful storms. Miraculously, he and his cottage had survived every Hurricane that had crossed his path. 37 to be exact.

So, when 38 arrived, Max had no idea that it would be the one to take his life.

…so that everyone who believes in Him may not perish but have eternal life.

It was late in the day and the clouds had been rolling in since mid-afternoon. Feeling the coming tropical storm in his bones, Max began the process of nailing two-by-fours across his windows. “If I start now,” he thought, “I can be done and enjoying supper by 6:00.” Hammering the last nail into his wooden home at about 5:30, he chuckled to himself as he loved to be early. What else did he have to do?

Preparing his meal took no time at all: opening the can of soup, putting it on the stove and cutting and buttering his bread took less time combined than waiting for the soup to boil. As he waited for the steam and bubbles, he located his water supply, gathered up his flashlights, candles and matches, took mental stock of his Hurricane prep-list, and set his table.

Max sat for dinner precisely at 6:00 and as he bowed his head in prayer, he caught a glimpse of the time, smiled once more, and took his first bite.

It was at this time that he heard the first clap of thunder. The pitter-patter of rain on his roof soon followed. Paying it little attention, Max dunked his bread in his soup, softening and flavoring it, before bringing it to his mouth. The broth tasted salty, which was a nice complement to the tartness of the sourdough-rye he was using tonight. Max was so entranced in his meal that he didn’t even flinch as the powerful winds pelted the cottage with rain.

Finishing his meal, Max got up to peak outside at the storm’s wrath. As he squinted through a small slit in the wooden coverings, he saw the tall palm trees bending to the left. Rain fell sideways in sheets. The wind howled. His tiny cottage trembled with each thunder strike. Taking this as commonplace he was about to go and clean his dishes from dinner when he noticed Herb and Norma. Cowering behind a tree, Herb tried his best to shield Norma from the storm, spreading his wings and hugging her, exposing his back to water, twigs and other flying debris.

Max’s eyes immediately fixated on the ducks. From inside of his cottage he began yelling and screaming at them, “Herb! Norma! Go to the shed! Get out of the storm!” As he shouted he pointed at the shed to which he was referring. Located just a stone’s throw from his front steps it was only a few feet from the Herb and Norma’s sheltering tree. The place where he kept his gardening tools and other odds and ends, it was built of concrete, a remnant of the army barracks that at one point was housed on this very plot of land. It was sturdier than his cottage.

Max went on encouraging his duckling friends for a few minutes, experimenting with different tones, volume levels and even words. Realizing his attempts to communicate were in vain, Max brainstormed some other possibilities.

He ran and retrieved a flashlight. As he had many from which to choose, Max selected the most powerful beam in his reserve. Given to him by Sheriff Briggs, Max new it was strong enough to cut through the rain and reach his web-footed friends. Opening a window, Max hammered out one of the wooden planks. “It will weaken my defenses a bit,” Max considered, “but it’s the only way I can get this light to them.”

Turning on the flashlight, Max shot its beams onto Herb. Jiggling it a bit, he then traced the path from the ducks into the shed. Herb must have thought ill of this light as instead of it leading he and his bride to safety, it caused him to leap into the air, only to get thrown back to the earth by the fierce winds. Herb lay motionless to the right of Norma, who began to burrow deeper into the ground.

Max’s heart dropped into his stomach. It was a pain that he had not felt in quite some time. Thinking out loud, he sighed, “I have to save them. I have to save them, but I will have to get closer to do so.”

Max stood in front of his front door long enough to check his body for the necessary rain gear. Boots, pants, coat, hood, glasses. “Well, I can’t cover myself in any more plastic and rubber,” he judged. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, reached for the doorknob and opened the door.

He was immediately struck by wind and rain. Stumbling back a bit, he leaned forward, stepped out onto his porch and closed the door behind him. Moving as quickly as his old body would allow, he darted in the direction of Herb and Norma. As he got closer, he called their names, “Herb! Norma! It’s Max! I’m hear to save you!” The roar of the rain bouncing off of his waterproof hat and hood muffled the sound of his own voice. He scrambled through the mud and water, inching closer to his friends. Drawing closer he bent down to scoop up Herb. “Norma is at least behind the tree,” Max’s mind raced. “I need to get Herb out of this rain.”

As he stooped down, Max slipped on an exposed tree root. He tumbled to the ground, the left side of his body taking most of the impact. Water seeped under his rain gear. He felt his clothes underneath begin to dampen. He rolled over and reached for Herb. His hand brushed Herb’s wing, causing Herb to once again spring to life, furiously flapping his wings and honking. Max tried to chase after Herb. “Herb, I’m trying to save you!” Max yelled. “Please, go into the shed!”

Bringing himself up onto his knees, Max tried every conceivable hand motion and gesture. He tried calling out like a duck, cupping his cold and wet hands over his mouth and buzzing into his balled up fists. This only caused Herb to stir even more, squawking and getting tossed around by the winds.

Max got up and moved toward Norma, bracing himself on the trunk of the tree to steady his attempt at retrieving her. She flew out of his grasp, staying close to the ground as she fled. Max ran after her. He was growing tired. His heart was beating rapidly and it felt like it was about to erupt. He staggered. He gripped his chest.

A moment before Max’s heart gave out, he thought to himself, “If only I could become a duck, I could communicate to them and lead them to safety. If only I could become one of them…”

Conceptions

What can Mary teach us about how to prepare for Christmas?

Okay, that question sounds entirely too simple, entirely too superficial. What can Jesus’ mother teach us about Him? I’m sure that she could teach us everything we ever wanted to know. There is probably not a person in the history of the World that has known Jesus better. So, to ask, “What can Mary teach us about how to prepare for Christmas?” is like asking what Aaron Rodgers could teach us about throwing a spiral, or what Mozart could teach us about playing the piano. The question just doesn’t seem to do justice to the vast knowledge owned by the expert we are asking.

Nonetheless, what can Mary teach us about how to prepare for Christmas?

First, she can teach us about how we are respond to God’s question about whether or not we have a place for him in our lives: “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” We are foolish to think that God’s plan for us will bring us anything but our heart’s greatest desire. Whether it is to become a missionary, doctor, social worker, behavioral therapist, or mother, we must be open to God’s call for us when it comes. And, for as scary as what He asks of us might be, we need to accept it with grace and confidence, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word” or in the words of St. Ignatius, “In all of this may I place my life in your hands. Lord, I am yours. Make of me what you will.”

When God calls us, let us have the grace and confidence to accept the fulfillment of our heart’s greatest desire.

Second, Mary can teach us that preparing for Christmas takes much longer than 25 days or from the day after Thanksgiving or even the day after Halloween (as Big Business would have us believe). The funny part is that Big Business, despite its misguided reasons for doing so, actually has a better concept of how we are to prepare for Christmas than most devoted Christians do. But, if we were to get it right, we would start preparing for Christmas on March 25- the Feast of the Annunciation. Mary’s preparation began the day that she was “conceived by the Holy Spirit”. When we think of the many changes that a pregnant woman undergoes from the beginning of her pregnancy until giving birth, we come to realize the many ways that we should prepare for Christ’s coming. We should prepare Him room. We should take care of ourselves and get our affairs in order prior to His birth. In light of today's Feast of the Immaculate Conception, our preparation extends beyond 9 months; our entire lives must be spent in preparation for the God's call. Like Mary, we were conceived for a special purpose. 

Preparing for Christ to come into our lives should completely change our lives – our habits, our bodies, our thoughts, our desires – everything. And, this preparation takes much more than four weeks. It takes a lifetime.

Third, Mary can teach us that when we say yes to God’s call and we make room for Him in our lives, that He will be with us for much longer than just Christmas morning. Jesus doesn’t pass into and out of our lives throughout the course of Christmas Eve night. He doesn’t visit us once a year. Despite all that He does bring us, His focus isn’t on what He brings us, but on what we will bring to Him and to others. Much like the difference between a wedding and marriage, raising a baby has a much deeper level of responsibility than does giving birth to one. Accepting baby Jesus into our lives requires of us a commitment, a dedication, a loyalty that we will put Him above all else. Carrying out God's mission for our lives involves much more than merely signing the contract. 

If the preparation takes a lifetime, living with Jesus after accepting Him into our lives takes...well, it takes us into eternity. 

In all of the hustle and bustle of this season be courageous enough to conceive of some new ways to prepare for Christ's coming. Be courageous enough to follow your heart's greatest desire. Be courageous enough to allow God to tell you what that is. Be courageous enough to accept the purpose for which you were conceived. 

Be like Mary. 

Light

When Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, in the days of King Herod, behold, magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem, saying, “Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We saw his star at its rising and have come to do him homage"...Then Herod called the magi secretly and ascertained from them the time of the star’s appearance. He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and search diligently for the child. When you have found him, bring me word, that I too may go and do him homage.” After their audience with the king they set out. And behold, the star that they had seen at its rising preceded them, until it came and stopped over the place where the child was. They were overjoyed at seeing the star, and on entering the house they saw the child with Mary his mother and paid him homage.

-Matthew 2: 1-2, 7-11

  

No matter how dark the darkness, light always overcomes it. The moment a candle is lighted, or a light switch is turned on, light immediately overtakes the darkness. Even from great distances, the tiniest light can be seen.

In fact, it is light that allows us to see at all. Without it, we would live in a world of darkness. 

Light gives things color. Without anything to be absorbed and/or reflected back to our eyes, all would be black.  

Light is what gives life to plants. Through the process of photosynthesis, plants convert carbon dioxide into oxygen. Light, along with water and other nutrients, is one of the foods necessary in order for a plant to survive. Because of this production of oxygen, light is also life giving to us as well.

Light increases our levels of Vitamin D, which makes us happier. In places that get less sunshine than the Sunshine State, people are actually prescribed light therapy to help combat depression.

From what our Gospel reading tells us, Jesus is connected to a light- specifically a star. In John’s Gospel (8:12), Jesus Himself says, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”

Jesus allows us to see right from wrong. 

He gives our lives color- giving it a meaning and/or purpose that it would otherwise lack without Him. 

He gives us life. 

He makes us happier. 

He is truly our Light.

As our days continue to get filled with more darkness, as we wait during this Advent Season for Christ to come on Christmas morning, let us focus on His Light. The Light from the Advent Wreath, that will get brighter with each passing week as Christ’s coming inches closer. The Light from our houses and Christmas trees, decorated to help us prepare for Christmas Day. 

Let these lights that are signs of Christmas remind us of Christ’s Light that can come into our lives when we, like the wise men, seek Him out and pay Him homage.