If you're interested in what I've been writing for my classes, head over to my profile at Scribd.com, an online document publishing service. I've released my papers there licensed as Creative Commons Non-Commercial Attribution Share-Alike (cc-by-nc-sa) so that they are free to reuse, as long as I am credited, they are not used commercially, and they are also shared with this open license (the content on this blog is licensed similarly; see sidebar).
My papers are organized into collections, currently as Pre-Theology and Theology I coursework. Where I've remembered to post it, the grade I received on each assignment is also included in the description, so you'll know if you're reading a "bad one."
Read away!
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
Hello everyone! I am a Catholic, from Southern California. I entered the seminary of the Oblates of the Virgin Mary in Boston in August of 2010. Remember, in the end, three things will remain, faith, hope, and love, but the greatest is Love, Verus Amor!
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Sunday, December 09, 2012
Advent
Advent is a time of waiting and anticipation. But what are we waiting for? The great "Advent" of course, Christ coming to us (ad-ventum: literally, toward the coming/arrival, from Latin). And from this notion flows directly the ancient invocation: Maranatha – Come, Lord Jesus! This applies both to our commemoration of His birth in Bethlehem (literally "house of bread"), and to our expectation of His second coming.
As we wait, we have been given a task; something to do while we wait. We are not only waiting or expecting (both literally "looking out) but also anticipating, receiving beforehand, in some sense, what we look forward to. Christ is with us now, in Word and Sacrament, though we look forward to His coming (eschatological return) among us yet again and hope that our lives may be pleasing to Him that we may join Him in eternal glory.
Last week, the Church presented just this notion of waiting with an active anticipation. Not only do we know that "the day is coming" (though it will be a surprise), but that we must continually turn away from the evil that threatens our righteousness and would prevent us from "standing before the Son of Man" and "[raising our] heads" (Gospel for First Sunday of Advent, Year C: Luke 21:25–28, 34–36). The first reading last week, from the prophet Jeremiah, emphasized this need to appear well before God, having sought to follow His instructions, to "do what is right and just in the land" (Jeremiah 33:14–16). And Paul's first letter to the Thessalonians further adds the wish that we "increase and abound in love so as to strengthen [our] hearts to be blameless in holiness" (1 Thessalonians 3:12–4:2). Taken together, the first reading's exhortation to righteousness and the second reading's exhortation to love unite in the Gospel message to receive strength to give God glory, precisely by our righteousness (by His grace) and love.
Today, we return to the beginning of Luke's Gospel to meet John the Baptist. His message is the quintessential call to repentance with the definitive sign of Baptism. We hear that John called all to a "baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins" (Luke 3:1–6). The passage from Isaiah that the author of Luke reads in hindsight as referring to John the Baptist (affectionately shortened to "JBap" in scholarly literature!) also includes landscape renewal language: "Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be made low. The winding roads shall be made straight and the rough ways made smooth" (Luke 3:1–6; cf. Isaiah 40:3–5). The first reading, from Baruch, also refers to this same kind of renewal: "For God has commanded/ that every lofty mountain be made low,/ and that the age-old depths and gorges/ be filled to level ground" (Baruch 5:1–9). The further imagery added by Psalm 126 calls for rain to water the desert and raise up a forest that will bear fruit; according to Paul's letter to the Philippians, the "fruit of righteousness" (Second reading: Philippians 1:4–6, 8–11). And so we are called in our own lives and by our own reception of Baptism to die to ourselves and to sin, recalling how John's baptism in the violent Jordan river meant a near-death experience drowning in water that otherwise gives life and cleanses; through this death and rebirth in the spirit, we can work to clear the landscape of our souls to be able to bear that fruit of righteousness. And this is the work we are called to do while waiting, expecting, and anticipating Christ's return, the parousia (Greek παρουσία, "coming").
Fr. Peter Grover presented the further historical context for this landscape renewal imagery: it was the practical way to build a road, by clearing obstacles (both the tall and the deep) to make a flat road for conquest. Rather than use an existing road, an enemy's advantage would lie in their ability to construct their own egress route following the attack of a city. Fr. Peter connected today's abstract language with the concrete situation of Lazarus and the rich man: if only the rich man would have built his own road to heaven, filling in the valley of Lazarus' needs with his mountain of wealth to pave his way to the bosom of Abraham!
At the sweet spot of convergence of this week's readings, however, there is a further point: this renewal, cleansing, and death to self is to "show all the earth your splendor" (cf. Baruch) and to bear fruit for the glory and praise of God (cf. Philippians). The point is to make God known (Greek: γνωριζω / gnōrizō), and this conversion of the landscape and the conversion of our hearts together become revelation to the world (Greek: αποκαλυψις / apocalypsis).
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
As we wait, we have been given a task; something to do while we wait. We are not only waiting or expecting (both literally "looking out) but also anticipating, receiving beforehand, in some sense, what we look forward to. Christ is with us now, in Word and Sacrament, though we look forward to His coming (eschatological return) among us yet again and hope that our lives may be pleasing to Him that we may join Him in eternal glory.
Last week, the Church presented just this notion of waiting with an active anticipation. Not only do we know that "the day is coming" (though it will be a surprise), but that we must continually turn away from the evil that threatens our righteousness and would prevent us from "standing before the Son of Man" and "[raising our] heads" (Gospel for First Sunday of Advent, Year C: Luke 21:25–28, 34–36). The first reading last week, from the prophet Jeremiah, emphasized this need to appear well before God, having sought to follow His instructions, to "do what is right and just in the land" (Jeremiah 33:14–16). And Paul's first letter to the Thessalonians further adds the wish that we "increase and abound in love so as to strengthen [our] hearts to be blameless in holiness" (1 Thessalonians 3:12–4:2). Taken together, the first reading's exhortation to righteousness and the second reading's exhortation to love unite in the Gospel message to receive strength to give God glory, precisely by our righteousness (by His grace) and love.
Today, we return to the beginning of Luke's Gospel to meet John the Baptist. His message is the quintessential call to repentance with the definitive sign of Baptism. We hear that John called all to a "baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins" (Luke 3:1–6). The passage from Isaiah that the author of Luke reads in hindsight as referring to John the Baptist (affectionately shortened to "JBap" in scholarly literature!) also includes landscape renewal language: "Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be made low. The winding roads shall be made straight and the rough ways made smooth" (Luke 3:1–6; cf. Isaiah 40:3–5). The first reading, from Baruch, also refers to this same kind of renewal: "For God has commanded/ that every lofty mountain be made low,/ and that the age-old depths and gorges/ be filled to level ground" (Baruch 5:1–9). The further imagery added by Psalm 126 calls for rain to water the desert and raise up a forest that will bear fruit; according to Paul's letter to the Philippians, the "fruit of righteousness" (Second reading: Philippians 1:4–6, 8–11). And so we are called in our own lives and by our own reception of Baptism to die to ourselves and to sin, recalling how John's baptism in the violent Jordan river meant a near-death experience drowning in water that otherwise gives life and cleanses; through this death and rebirth in the spirit, we can work to clear the landscape of our souls to be able to bear that fruit of righteousness. And this is the work we are called to do while waiting, expecting, and anticipating Christ's return, the parousia (Greek παρουσία, "coming").
Fr. Peter Grover presented the further historical context for this landscape renewal imagery: it was the practical way to build a road, by clearing obstacles (both the tall and the deep) to make a flat road for conquest. Rather than use an existing road, an enemy's advantage would lie in their ability to construct their own egress route following the attack of a city. Fr. Peter connected today's abstract language with the concrete situation of Lazarus and the rich man: if only the rich man would have built his own road to heaven, filling in the valley of Lazarus' needs with his mountain of wealth to pave his way to the bosom of Abraham!
At the sweet spot of convergence of this week's readings, however, there is a further point: this renewal, cleansing, and death to self is to "show all the earth your splendor" (cf. Baruch) and to bear fruit for the glory and praise of God (cf. Philippians). The point is to make God known (Greek: γνωριζω / gnōrizō), and this conversion of the landscape and the conversion of our hearts together become revelation to the world (Greek: αποκαλυψις / apocalypsis).
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Happy Thanksgiving!
It's already here! I knew Thanksgiving was coming, but it's already here and this time in two days I'll be in a car flying up a highway through New Hampshire on our way to the Oblate rectory in Montreal, QC.
It seems like we just finished midterm exams (which we did...) but we really are hurtling downhill now to the end of the semester. We just finished our direct treatment of Augustine in Patristics (yes, we read the 305 pages of his Confessions in 12 days, which is more amazing to me because on most of those 12 days I did not open the book - it was very focused reading!). I am glad we had the very tangible academic incentive to read it, because now I've seen what's there and can revisit it with a good sense of where to focus.
This morning in my Old Testament class, we began our treatment of the book of Psalms with the title of a book that Prof. Maluf heard about on the radio: "Help! Thank you! Wow!" He connected each exclamation with a major category of psalm literature: lament/complaint, thanksgiving, and hymns (mostly of praise). While Dr. Maluf's lectures are generally hard to follow, I appreciate how he daringly pursues what seem to us to be tangents and relates them later, allowing us to reach the obvious conclusions about the text we're studying and glean other points from the introductory articles with which we are provided; he presents the harder-to-find information in class, and as long as I keep that in perspective, I can appreciate what he offers us. [editorial note: that was a long sentence] He is such a scholar's scholar, though!
I've managed to rekindle my interests in classical violin and cycling, and have seminarian brothers to share them! A seminarian at St. John's who is studying with the diocese of Manchester, NH studied music in college and taught before entering the seminary. He and I had a nice jam session last week and scheduled another for next week. And Scott and I are setting up a program to keep each other riding bikes and build up some fitness to do some nice rides here. He had brought his extra bike and gear, so with a little dedication, we'll have a lot of fun and stay in shape, too!
It is a bit odd when we sit down to do a personal inventory and discover where our current imbalance is. It seems we are always a work in progress, momentarily sitting at dead center only because it's between the extremes of our oscillation. I have found that, as we seminarians gather to share our recent experiences and support one another, there can be a variety of dimensions that plague one or another of us, and those can change as the weeks roll by. For me lately, it has been attention to personal prayer that I have singled-out for particular emphasis. We have so much scheduled prayer that it seems we are always in church, but are we just located within those walls or are we attentive to the Trinity present with the angels, accompanying the Sacramental presence of Jesus Christ, the Second Person of the Trinity? I have found that beyond my acknowledgment of His presence, my situation lacks, in large part, other personal interactions. It is not the case that when I go to chapel I forget where I am, or expect myself to have a deep and intimate conversation or mystical experience there. Rather, as was said multiple times in the intriguing dramatic film People Like Us, I need to "just be a person right now" when I enter a space of prayer (and this simple phrase can apply to so many moments in our lives).
And, as with many ideals in life, focusing our attention on them can be a great joy in fruition and a great suffering in anticipation. Sometimes in prayer, we are called to simply "keep watch" in silence; other times we are asked to listen; other times we are invited to pour out our hearts; still other times we may simply rest in the Son-light, looking at Jesus as He looks at us (cf. St. John Vianney).
Thankful for the gift of prayer, one aspect of being able to relate to our God, let us seek and strive after peace, born of solid family life and fraternal charity, and submit ourselves to Him who for our salvation sacrificed Himself, the King of kings and Lord of lords: Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
It seems like we just finished midterm exams (which we did...) but we really are hurtling downhill now to the end of the semester. We just finished our direct treatment of Augustine in Patristics (yes, we read the 305 pages of his Confessions in 12 days, which is more amazing to me because on most of those 12 days I did not open the book - it was very focused reading!). I am glad we had the very tangible academic incentive to read it, because now I've seen what's there and can revisit it with a good sense of where to focus.
This morning in my Old Testament class, we began our treatment of the book of Psalms with the title of a book that Prof. Maluf heard about on the radio: "Help! Thank you! Wow!" He connected each exclamation with a major category of psalm literature: lament/complaint, thanksgiving, and hymns (mostly of praise). While Dr. Maluf's lectures are generally hard to follow, I appreciate how he daringly pursues what seem to us to be tangents and relates them later, allowing us to reach the obvious conclusions about the text we're studying and glean other points from the introductory articles with which we are provided; he presents the harder-to-find information in class, and as long as I keep that in perspective, I can appreciate what he offers us. [editorial note: that was a long sentence] He is such a scholar's scholar, though!
I've managed to rekindle my interests in classical violin and cycling, and have seminarian brothers to share them! A seminarian at St. John's who is studying with the diocese of Manchester, NH studied music in college and taught before entering the seminary. He and I had a nice jam session last week and scheduled another for next week. And Scott and I are setting up a program to keep each other riding bikes and build up some fitness to do some nice rides here. He had brought his extra bike and gear, so with a little dedication, we'll have a lot of fun and stay in shape, too!
***
It is a bit odd when we sit down to do a personal inventory and discover where our current imbalance is. It seems we are always a work in progress, momentarily sitting at dead center only because it's between the extremes of our oscillation. I have found that, as we seminarians gather to share our recent experiences and support one another, there can be a variety of dimensions that plague one or another of us, and those can change as the weeks roll by. For me lately, it has been attention to personal prayer that I have singled-out for particular emphasis. We have so much scheduled prayer that it seems we are always in church, but are we just located within those walls or are we attentive to the Trinity present with the angels, accompanying the Sacramental presence of Jesus Christ, the Second Person of the Trinity? I have found that beyond my acknowledgment of His presence, my situation lacks, in large part, other personal interactions. It is not the case that when I go to chapel I forget where I am, or expect myself to have a deep and intimate conversation or mystical experience there. Rather, as was said multiple times in the intriguing dramatic film People Like Us, I need to "just be a person right now" when I enter a space of prayer (and this simple phrase can apply to so many moments in our lives).
And, as with many ideals in life, focusing our attention on them can be a great joy in fruition and a great suffering in anticipation. Sometimes in prayer, we are called to simply "keep watch" in silence; other times we are asked to listen; other times we are invited to pour out our hearts; still other times we may simply rest in the Son-light, looking at Jesus as He looks at us (cf. St. John Vianney).
***
Thankful for the gift of prayer, one aspect of being able to relate to our God, let us seek and strive after peace, born of solid family life and fraternal charity, and submit ourselves to Him who for our salvation sacrificed Himself, the King of kings and Lord of lords: Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
Wednesday, November 07, 2012
Snow!
This afternoon, my weather-aware Gmail theme informed me that it was snowing! I promptly looked outside (noticing that it was not, in fact, snowing here), then checked the local weather report. WeatherUnderground reported 34ºF at the time, and I posted "freeze, Boston, freeze!" on Facebook.
Soon after this, I went downstairs to make a cup of hot chocolate, found Fr. Tom bringing in groceries, and behold, a very light non-accumulating snow was falling!
After dinner and through our meeting (up to the present moment), it kept snowing, and about a half-inch has accumulated here. Fun! I hope there's more to come this winter; last year was pathetic as far as snow is concerned!
The first photo was taken with flash; the second without (this one did have a full 1-second exposure, though, and the colors came out great. The lighting is what is reflected off of clouds from surrounding streets/buildings, which is neat because it is nowhere near that bright to the naked eye).
Enjoy!
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
Soon after this, I went downstairs to make a cup of hot chocolate, found Fr. Tom bringing in groceries, and behold, a very light non-accumulating snow was falling!
After dinner and through our meeting (up to the present moment), it kept snowing, and about a half-inch has accumulated here. Fun! I hope there's more to come this winter; last year was pathetic as far as snow is concerned!
The first photo was taken with flash; the second without (this one did have a full 1-second exposure, though, and the colors came out great. The lighting is what is reflected off of clouds from surrounding streets/buildings, which is neat because it is nowhere near that bright to the naked eye).
Enjoy!
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
Piles of pages!
Once again, it has been quite some time since my last post!
I have been very busy reading the books of the prophets in the Old Testament, poring over the Greek text of Paul's letters to the Philippians and to Philemon, digesting another century of Church Fathers, grasping the 300 years of Biblical history preceding the writing of the Gospels, and deepening my knowledge of how the Church has further clarified her teachings regarding Divine Revelation, the Scriptures, and the Tradition and Magisterium. And I took midterm exams in all of these (save the Pauline literature). If all of that does not excuse me from writing here, at least you know I wasn't hibernating!
It really is a joy to be able to come into contact with these great works. It is refreshing to see that the problems we have today are not new, that the world has endured similar trials for millennia. It is also, to some degree, alarming that after millennia of facing these same issues, we have not resolved them. Then again, need this world and our society in it approach the perfection of heaven? Each of us is called to endure the persecutions we suffer, to bear all things patiently with hope and to give of ourselves to one another to our dying breath, all the while giving thanks to our Creator, who from the beginning of time planned for our Redemption. How else could "the hills be alive with the sound of music" or "the heavens proclaim the glory of God", had he not known already that we would need such evidence around us to lead us to Himself?
Beginning this week, we embark in Patristics upon a great Augustinian adventure. We have divided his Confessions into three parts, and have formed teams to read and analyze the work according to seven dimensions, including Scripture, Love & Friendship, Philosophy, and Evil/Sin. I chose the topic of Law/Justice/Society. We will write a short paper pointing out how Augustine treats of our theme for each of the three divisions of his work, and each class meeting will consist of a discussion of what each of us found. Unfortunately, I will most likely miss the last discussion day as I fulfill my civic duty at the Superior Court House!
Things have been cooling off in Boston; the cold weather is a familiar and welcome reality in the Northeast, at least in my experience. I just need to push myself to work out and strengthen my back so I am ready when it comes time to shovel snow! Good thing there are more than a few "workout nuts" in this house! (By the way, when the workout video series are titled "Insanity" and "Asylum," the colloquialism "crazy" does not stray far from the mark!)
I plan to make some remarks here about Obama's acceptance speech and our outlook here in the USA, including some prudent Catholic viewpoints; other priorities precede such an effort, but I hope to put it online soon.
Until then, persevere in prayer and every good work! Celebrate Friday, the dedication of the Lateran Basilica, the Cathedral of the Diocese of Rome. And recall that we look forward to our heavenly homeland, as we work to consecrate to God this world in which we live, in all that we do.
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
I have been very busy reading the books of the prophets in the Old Testament, poring over the Greek text of Paul's letters to the Philippians and to Philemon, digesting another century of Church Fathers, grasping the 300 years of Biblical history preceding the writing of the Gospels, and deepening my knowledge of how the Church has further clarified her teachings regarding Divine Revelation, the Scriptures, and the Tradition and Magisterium. And I took midterm exams in all of these (save the Pauline literature). If all of that does not excuse me from writing here, at least you know I wasn't hibernating!
It really is a joy to be able to come into contact with these great works. It is refreshing to see that the problems we have today are not new, that the world has endured similar trials for millennia. It is also, to some degree, alarming that after millennia of facing these same issues, we have not resolved them. Then again, need this world and our society in it approach the perfection of heaven? Each of us is called to endure the persecutions we suffer, to bear all things patiently with hope and to give of ourselves to one another to our dying breath, all the while giving thanks to our Creator, who from the beginning of time planned for our Redemption. How else could "the hills be alive with the sound of music" or "the heavens proclaim the glory of God", had he not known already that we would need such evidence around us to lead us to Himself?
Beginning this week, we embark in Patristics upon a great Augustinian adventure. We have divided his Confessions into three parts, and have formed teams to read and analyze the work according to seven dimensions, including Scripture, Love & Friendship, Philosophy, and Evil/Sin. I chose the topic of Law/Justice/Society. We will write a short paper pointing out how Augustine treats of our theme for each of the three divisions of his work, and each class meeting will consist of a discussion of what each of us found. Unfortunately, I will most likely miss the last discussion day as I fulfill my civic duty at the Superior Court House!
Things have been cooling off in Boston; the cold weather is a familiar and welcome reality in the Northeast, at least in my experience. I just need to push myself to work out and strengthen my back so I am ready when it comes time to shovel snow! Good thing there are more than a few "workout nuts" in this house! (By the way, when the workout video series are titled "Insanity" and "Asylum," the colloquialism "crazy" does not stray far from the mark!)
I plan to make some remarks here about Obama's acceptance speech and our outlook here in the USA, including some prudent Catholic viewpoints; other priorities precede such an effort, but I hope to put it online soon.
Until then, persevere in prayer and every good work! Celebrate Friday, the dedication of the Lateran Basilica, the Cathedral of the Diocese of Rome. And recall that we look forward to our heavenly homeland, as we work to consecrate to God this world in which we live, in all that we do.
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
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