Come, Now is the Time to Worship...

... Come, now is the time to give your heart.
Come, now is the time to worship.
Come, just as you are before your God.
Come.

One day every tongue will confess God,
One day every knee will bow.
But still the greatest treasure remains for those,
Who gladly choose you now.

*hums*

That song was a part of the background in the English video promoting the 49th Eucharistic Congress, taking place in Quebec City in June 2008. (An event I'd really like to go to, incidentally, since I'm quite certain that World Youth Day in Sydney is going to be way to expensive for me to consider the following month... and the pope'll be at both, probably.)

So it's stuck in my head. It's one my favourite religious songs (can I call it a hymn?) that is a "youth"ish song. Meaning it's not a classical hymn, but is common at church youth events. I would even go so far as to call it something of my vocational themesong. Not so much because of the words (though I could make something up there), as because of the memories. This one was big in the events and stuff in the year up to and into World Youth Day. It associate it with Eucharistic processions and praise and worship, and it is associated strongly with that surge of flame that envelopes my heart when I think about the actions I can perform once I'm a priest.

It's impossible to convey the longing I have to wear a stole and chasuble, to swing the thurible as a priest and not merely as a server, to lift high the host in the very act of consecration, to proclaim the words "this is my Body", acting in the very person of Christ. That brief moment of adoration, when the host is elevated, and has become the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, of Jesus Himself, is a moment in which the priest is a human monstrance (not monstrosity, monstrance. It's the name of the very ornate, usually god, sun-like thing used to expose the Blessed Sacrament for adoration). I want it so badly...

Erhem!

Yeah, I digress... basically, that song's one of the songs that triggers those feelings.

And yeah... that's about all I have to say.

Stranger

Normally, I don't feel too out of place at Concordia. It's a lot like Grade 2 was for me: a bit of a loner during "recess" (spare periods), a few friends (none particularly close), get along well with people, academically smart. All of which is true...

Today was interesting, though... Thanks to English being divvied up into groups for a presentation on Friday, I was a bit more social than usual, and possibly because it's the third full week back, and I'm used to the whole "spare periods" thing (first semester of my life I've had them), I was feeling the most "at home" I have at Concordia yet.

But culturally... I felt WAY out there...

The main incident occurred when I was broadsided with overhearing a conversation I would have heartily rather avoided. It went something like this:

Girl One: "Don't mind me, I'm having my period. At least I'm having it though. I was so relieved to take the test, and come up negative."

Girl Two: "Yeah, I was two weeks late... it was scary, but we didn't have to do anything."

I'm confidant the conversation continued for a while in this vein, but this is where I left that area and headed over towards Tegler, a taste of "blegh" in my mouth.

Now, I'm well aware that I'm a true-blue anti-abortionist, pro-abstinence-until-marriage. I'm not out to defend myself so much as to reflect on just how deeply this runs in me. It wasn't the topics of the conversation that got me (though they have their reasons why they could've), so much as the casualness of it. It was so... routine...

Concordia's a pretty Christian place. It should be, as a Lutheran college with a considerable religious emphasis. Obviously, we're not talking a conservative Catholic institution, but still... I don't think I realised before how "one in a million" I am not. And I don't mean that in a self-pleasing, egoistic sort of way, but in an almost accurate statistical way. Probably it's more like "one in five thousand" or something... but still... we're a rare, rare breed, people like me.

Seminary never felt more like home, or more dear, than this afternoon when I got back.

Silence is Golden

Further to my TV update of yesterday... I have JUST come (and I mean within the last 100 seconds just) from three straight hours of TV. For someone who grew up never watching anything other than movies (the old rabbit ears weren't that useful), three hours of commercials has me twitching like a rabbit. I'm ready to shoot somebody...

Mind you, instead of just seeing on Stargate episode, I managed to catch two-- as well as a Supernatural episode (Sarah, if you're reading: you have an interesting obsession here... well-produced, but somewhere out of left field...).

I really need to get more homework or something. This is fine for a day or two now (other than the horrid side-effects-twitching-itis), but this could be dangerous if it ever gets to be habit.

Another Day, Another Addiction

By now I can confidantly say I'm a major Stargate fan. Haven't seen enough episodes or dug up anything online to qualify me as an expert, but that doesn't stop me being a fan. Didn't stop me with Star Trek either.

This is in the span of about five months, or not even. My addiction has been fed, of course, by having a half dozen more expert Stargate fans in-house, as well as Space Channel having a Stargate episode every weekday night, right when I can watch it.

This is all very well and good. It may even be old news, if you stalk me online. What is breaking news however is that after Stargate yesterday I saw my first episode of Dr. Who.

No idea if it was the newest episode or some rerun (though of the current doctor... thanks to LEGO, I know enough to know that), but I was hooked. The eerie theme, the Britishness, the polish of the show, the writing... it fascinated me. Fortunately it's only on CBC once a week... but I fear I may be hooked, yet again.

Non Habemus Archiepiscopum

"We Have No Archbishop"

And haven't for a month, for that matter. On December 16th, Archbishop Thomas Collins made public his very recent acceptance of Rome's request to move him to Toronto, where Archbishop Aloysius Cardinal Ambrozic officially retired, more than a year after turning 75.

Since then, Archbishop Collins has been Archbishop-Elect of Toronto, and Administrator of the Archdiocese of Edmonton-- a title he will soon drop-- and the Archdiocese of Edmonton has been sede vacante, a "vacant see".

This is the first time in the Archdiocese's history that we have been sede vacante without knowing who the new Archbishop will be. Naturally, this means that the entire Diocese (and possibly then some) have been speculating-- and the seminary as much or more than most. But that is not the point here...

Tonight was the farewell event for Archbishop Collins from Newman Theological College-- the college down the hallway from the Seminary, and where I'll study for my Master of Divinity Degree in a few years. It's also celebrating the occasion of the Archbishop's 60th birthday. And it's the third farewell I've attended in the past eight days.

A week ago, St. Joseph's Seminary held a private farewell dinner for the Archbishop: just him and us. On Sunday, the Archdiocese held a rather formal affair at the Basilica. Formal in the sense of somewhat dressed up, and by invitation only. I've attended all three.

It's starting to slowly sink in that the Archbishop is leaving. It's a measure of the man that there has been so much outpouring of love and regret over his departure. He will be sorely missed. He is a great man: kind, intelligent, witty, personal. He was close to being the "perfect bishop". Insofar as a human can be, he was.

Which, I guess, is why the Holy Father is sending him to Toronto. God knows, I assure you, that Toronto needs someone like him. It's a huge diocese, more than a million Catholics, nearly eight hundred priests (counting the religious orders), and because of its size and Toronto's prominence in Canada, possibly the most "important" diocese in the country. If the Archbishop is not named Cardinal in the next few years, the entire seminary will be much surprised.

And Toronto, being the "centre of the universe" for Canada, makes its prelate an important figure in Canadian life as well. As the foremost Catholic figure in Canada (well, we have two other Cardinals, but they aren't from Toronto), he's going to bear a lot of the heat from left-wingers who had a grudge against the Church. Apparently he has a bodyguard chauffeur and a fortress-like security system in the rectory-- and gets death threats (or will).

The poor Archbishop seems a little overwhelmed by all this, and one can't blame him. But the Holy Father has asked him to serve, and he has said yes. It's a powerful witness to the importance of obedience in the Church-- particularly for us seminarians who, as priests, may someday be asked to serve in a parish we absolutely do NOT want to go to.

When I first heard the news, the day I headed back home for Christmas, I took it rather poorly. I'm afraid I've grown rather attached to His Grace. I've come to know him well over the last few years, especially since being in Seminary, having seen him on a nearly fortnightly basis; but I knew him earlier as well. I knew him from serving at Confirmations (including my own), from the parish mission he gave us last February, from various youth events up to Edmonton where he was present, from seeing him briefly in Köln for World Youth Day. Even before I entered the Seminary, I knew him fairly well, and he knew me by name. And he's only, as I said, sixty. Assuming he has a normal and healthy life, he should have been here long enough to ordain me and assign me my first couple parishes.

It's hard on a diocese, moving the bishop, and it's not really the intended norm. A bishop is supposed, ideally, to be father of his flock for life, or at least until retirement at age 75 (and they usually retire within their diocese). And this was the norm in western Canada for a generation. Archbishop McNeil, Archbishop Collins' predecessor, was Bishop of Edmonton for twenty years, and is still around and kicking-- a near permanent fixture on the Archdiocesan scene.

It's hard to lose such a good man (and a Tolkien fan, even... an English major, with a complete OED), but we cannot begrudge him-- for he is serving as God and church direct. But we can pray for him, and will.

"God of Wonders Beyond Our Galaxy"

"...You are holy, holy. The Universe declares Your majesty. You are Holy, Holy. Lord of Heaven and Earth."

I am in a mood I like to think of as a post-sacramental high. It's that awesome rush of praise and thanksgiving that wells up after Mass and receiving the Eucharist, or after Reconciliation. It's a grace, and so doesn't exactly show up after every reception of the sacraments, but when it does, nothing compares!

Let it never be said that a priest has no passion! No sex, yes. No partner, yes. But passion? Oh yes!

This afternoon was Archbishop Thomas Collins' farewell from the Archdiocese, downtown at the basilica. Somehow, for reasons unknown to me, I got one of the four invitations handed out to the seminarians, and so got to attend. Mostly, it was an awful lot of thanking the Archbishop for his years of service, and a chance for him to say goodbye to a lot of people... but it touched on the joy of being a priest, particularly in His Grace's own farewell message.

And I can see it in so many of the priests around me! In Fr. Stephen, at church tonight, in Frs. Shayne, Marco, Stephen, Augusto, and Eric here at the Seminary. In Fr. Les back home. In pretty much all the priests I've known much in my short life. And I can feel the same or a similar passion burning in me to become a priest. If a priest does not have passion for his priesthood, something is horribly wrong!

And tonight is one of those nights when you can FEEL the passion consuming you. From my head to my toe, I want to be a priest. I want to be ordained, I want to wear the collar, I want to preach the Gospel. And oh, oh! how I want to celebrate Mass! My body aches to take the bread and wine, to say the words of Our Lord, to genuflect in awe at the miracle God has worked through me. I yearn with my whole being to rise, and beckon the people of God in soaring notes to "Proclaim the Mystery of Faith!"

"Christ has died. Christ is Risen. Christ will come again!"

In the words of the Psalmist:

"O God, you are my God, for You I long,
For You my soul is thirsting,
My body pines for You,
Like a dry, weary land without water,
So I gaze on You in the santuary,
To see Your strength and Your glory."

I cannot even attempt to describe this feeling of surety, love, and consuming desire. The image of flames-- crackling, burning, roaring, devouring, shining in the darkness, soaring up to Heaven-- it's the closest description one can have of how I feel for my vocation right now.

God is good. God is so good, to give me this fiery pull towards the altar. It's not as if it's been one of those weekends I've been particularly holy. If anything, I've been morosely contemplating my lack of spiritual growth, and I've been considering a lot the reality of relationships, of having girlfriends, and it's been a bit of a nostalgic moment on that front.

But no more!

There is definitely a bittersweet ache in my heart, looking at couples, thinking of people in love, getting married. There's definitely a part of me, as a normal human being, that desires this the normal human desire.

But it pales in comparison to the awesome vocation I feel God is calling me towards. The sweet chirping of the marriage sparrow has nothing on the soaring grandeur of the priestly feeling. At least, such is the feeling for me.

I cannot, of course, know that I'm called to be a priest until that moment at last comes when the bishop lays his hands on my head and there's no going back... but for now, for now I cannot say I forsee any other end. If there is a life for me other than that as a priest, God is keeping it hidden, and meanwhile is providing me with a burning flame to keep me where I need to be at the moment: here in the Seminary.

Alleluia!!!!

Religions

One thing I've noticed in the past half year or so of trawling through various people's blogs (mainly Downers), is that people like to refer to religion as if it were a dirty word. Religions cause wars, religions are bad. Faith is good, but religion is bad.

Now, there may be some mentalities wherein religion, period, is bad. But I quote the Dictionary's definition of religion:

religion n. 1 the belief in a superhuman controlling power, esp. in a personal God or gods entitled to obedience and worship. 2 the expression of this in worship. 3 a particular system of faith and worship. 4 life under monastic vows (the way of religion). 5 a thing that one is strongly devoted to (football is their religion)

What people MEAN when they are saying religion is bad is that religionous organisation is bad. They aren't saying that belief in God is bad (I hope not anyway, because some of them claim to belief in Him). And I don't think they're saying that a codified system of belief is bad. No, they just don't like set structures.

You know what, people: that's what a faith entails. If you believe in God, and in acknowledging His presence in some way or another, then you believe there should be worship, prayer, a moral code, or something. But as soon as you feel that that such things should exist, you will necessarily have SYSTEMS of doing these things, because there will always be a BEST way of doing these things, meaning there will be rules.

Now, if you don't believe in God, or you don't believe that God needs or wants any sort of acknowledgement from creation, then you're okay. But these people don't seem to oppose acknowledging God. Well, if people are going to acknowledge God, there are going to be better ways about doing it, and that will entail rules. Furthermore, an awful lot of people believe that there are certain divinely ordained authorities or rules to dictate HOW to do that. And if you are willing to let people believe as they will, then you are allowing people to believe that-- and to DO that.

My point: religion is not something you can do away with if you claim to be tolerant of people's faiths. Religion is not seperable from faith. Nor is it a dirty word, a perversion of a pure "faith".

I would use governments as an analogy. There are a lot of governments out there that have given it a bad name, and there are a lot of governments out there that have lost or forgotten why they rule and what they rule for... but does that mean we should abolish governments? Not too many people seriously think so. What it means is that governments need reform.

Similarly, religions don't need to be abolished. They need to be cleaned up. Getting rid of a system of faith will not leave faith intact. So if you're going to respect faith, then you have to respect religion. They come hand in hand.

Religion is not a dirty word.

On the Brink of... Fanfiction?

You know I'm not really back to school proper yet by all the time I have to spend blogging. And likely enough, my choice of topic will clue you in even more.

I've been re-reading Harry Potter lately. Started over the holidays, due to a lack of other reading on hand that engaged me, and found myself pleasantly in the right mood to take them up again. It's time #3 for the new book, I think, but I've lost count on all the others. That they still entertain is a good sign-- it means I haven't overdone them yet.

Anyway, there's a whole plethora of topics I could get into (and might, if this blogging trend keeps up), but tonight I stray dangerously close to fanfiction in my ramblings.

To set the scene, I'm halfway through The Goblet of Fire right now, and I've been cogitating for a book and a half about how I really don't like Ron and Hermione getting set up, as eventually happens in Book Six.

I guess it's too late to give spoiler warnings... But anyone who's read the books at all knew it was coming, and there's still Book Seven to get rid of it. Hopefully.

I'm not sure exactly WHY I don't like Hermione and Ron as a couple. Partly, I think, it stems from the fact that Ron reminds me a LOT of my next-oldest brother, even a bit in looks (not the red hair, though). And why should that bug me?

This will sound rather peculiar, or silly, but my personal guess is that Hermione is the sort of girl that I would fancy-- possibly because there's some common ground. I'm not quite so keen on school as Hermione, but I definitely come close in terms of marks. It's only an easy first semester done thus far, but it's a straight 4.0 under the belt thus far. I'm also not much of a rule-breaker; another attractive Hermione quality.

Definitely not off on the House-Elf thing, but I worked in a library for two and a half years, and still liked the place at the end. But I digress; I'm supposed to be explaining why I don't like Ron and Hermione as a couple. Could it come down to plain old Freudian sibling jealousy? Am I irked because I'm projecting my brother's image onto Ron and projecting my ideal girlfriend image onto Hermione, and feeling shafted or something?

The sad thing is... I'm not sure it's as far out there as it sounds. Could be some truth to it.

Anyway, looking at Ron and Hermione through more objective lens, I'm still rather puzzled as to why Rowling would put them together. I can sort of see why Ron would want Hermione. But why Hermione feels the same way? Again, I'm suspicious of my motives here, but Ron is a bit of an insensitive clod.

Then there's the matter of common interests. I can't think of a lot... Sure, they're both in Gryffindor, and they're both Harry's very close friends, and going to help him with that whole "Kill Voldemort" thing... but hmmm...

See, I'm trying to picture a married Ron and Hermione, and I can't quite do it. Remove Harry, and what do these two have in common? Hermione's goals and dreams mean little to Ron. House-elfs? Muggle-wizard relations? New books in the family library? No... not seeing it. And it cuts back the other way too. Actually, other than the Chuddley Cannons, I'm having a hard time at the moment thinking of anything that would get Ron excited... but anything Ron-ish seeming doesn't generally smack of Hermione, does it?

She'd be better off with Harry.

The first time I thought that, I shrugged it off. I think that back around Book Five, when Cho was in picture. I didn't really care that much for Cho, figuring Harry simply infatuated, but I was willing to let it pass. Harry needed something to do while he waited for Ginny to grow up, anyway. I was quite fine with them eventually getting together... though when they did in Book Six, I wasn't so sure that I like it.

So... Harry and Hermione?

I'm having a tough time thinking of a psychological subtext for this one. I can't honestly say I identify with Harry that much. I'm sympathetic, yes, and I like him... but I don't project myself onto him, except maybe insofar as one identifies most with the main character, or is intended to.

To be honest, I'm not sure where this leaves Ron, and no matter how I may like him least of the trio, for artistic purposes one can't just cut him out of the picture by having his best friend steal his girlfriend. But what if Ron is the major good guy character who dies in Book Seven? To be honest, I'm not even sure that one does die... it just seems like a logical extension of the last couple books. SOMEONE has to die other than Voldemort.

I am amused to no end by myself here. This is definitely the closest to wanting to write fanfiction I've ever come. Harry Potter sits at just about the right level of fan intensity to prompt such an urge. It's not up with Tolkien (nothing is), so revered that nothing is questioned, but all is taken as dogma. On the other hand, it's intense enough that the urge is there. It's not like Narnia, where yes, I would not have brought the children back to Our World, personally, but I really don't care, it worked for the series.

Possibly Star Trek could compete... but it's so replete with alternate universes already that I need only pick one, and we're good to go. As for Star Wars, I'd just like to take a mass action on the Prequels, and wipe it all out, except for Qui-gon Jinn, Darth Maul, and Obi-wan... basically leaving us with a cool lightsabre duel and a few lines of dialogue.

One thing is certain: I will be reading Book Seven with great interest indeed.

Thoughts Provoked

So, I've been back home for 24 hours, and I'm supposed to on silent retreat. And this is the second silent retreat, at least, that I've blogged during. I feel rather guilty, though I'm technically silent (even my speakers are off), but that's an issue for me and my spiritual director. And, since my Instant Messangers are logged out, I'm not really talking to anyone. It's more like journal writing, or diary writing... or blogging.

Anyway, the reason that I am writing in possible contravention of the silence of the retreat is to preserve some of the awesome thoughts that were buzzing around my mind tonight, as our speaker, Bishop Fred Henry of Calgary, spoke.

Bishop Henry is an amazing man. Most Canadians, if they know him, know him as the really outspoken Catholic bishop out in Alberta-- and he's certainly butted heads with the press on many, many occasions, all of which I call recall having been for good reason. He's a really nice, and almost soft-spoken man in person, though.

Anyway, to the talk....

The first main idea that His Excellency spoke on was about identity, and how in the olden days (meaning when he was younger) people identified with their jobs. People not only got their earnings from being a teacher, or doctor, or bus driver, or priest, or whatnot; they took a lot of their identity from the institution they belonged to, from the name they bore as an employee. It was a source of strength and self-knowledge.

This was all just a prelude to talking about priests and their specific vocations and hardships, but in continuing to talk about society in general, he noted that this is no longer the case. As the world becomes globalised, and as time passes, we no longer really take our identity from being teachers or doctors or bus drivers. We become just mere consumers.

This struck some sort of a cord with me, and it seemed to apply in some way to the online community. I know a lot about WHO people are, but I don't know WHAT they are. I know what most people's jobs are, or for those who are students, what they aspire to-- if they do. But I don't know what they see themselves as, what their identities are. Not for the most part, anyway.

Some people may argue that we don't need such labels, that WHAT we are is simply an adjunct of WHO we are. I'm not sure if I disagree or not. Bishop Henry said that in the past we took a large part of our identity from the institutions we worked with: the schools, the churches, the businesses. We had somewhere we belonged.

Where do my online contacts belong? I'm really not sure. The only group I associate them with is the Barrow-Downs. Perhaps it is a tribute to the remarkable power of Tolkien's works and the personalities on that site that it has become a major facet of our identities. Quite likely, this is why I personally was distraught at Davem's banishment. It wasn't just being kicked out of a website. It was being kicked out a very identifiable community. And if you change a community's makeup, you change the identity of the people who draw on it.

Other than Barrow-Downers, what ARE these people I think I know?

I know that Lal is a bureaucrat... but I really don't identify her with that. I know that Sarah is a librarian... and she gets some of her identity from there, but not particularly strongly. I know that Jay is a student, aiming for Oxford... and I definitely identify him with Oxford. Perhaps that's the answer to his question of why HE got in, specifically. He belongs.

That's where this whole identity question is going for me: where do people belong? I think I know these people's personalities well... but I must admit that I'm rather clueless as to where they belong. What do they identify themselves with?

Looking at myself, I think the results speak for themselves in saying that I identify myself with the Catholic Church, specifically as a priest-to-be and current seminarian. I think myself justified in this opinion simply by how people refer to me. If anything Catholic or related comes up, I am an instant connection. I am identified with the Catholic Church.

That is an awesome feeling. I belong there!!!

Wow, I've written a lot already... but moving on...

The next big thought that Bishop Henry's talk set off was on the downright and complete oddity of Christians (and priests as examples of Christians). If you really step back and think about it, we are really odd ducks. He went on to list three areas, not coincidentally the same as the three religious vows.

Poverty: It isn't the goal of Christians to be poor, but it is not the goal of Christians to accumulate possessions either. For priests in particular, even if you don't take the Vow of Poverty (which Diocesan priests, as I will be, don't), you still adhere to the ideal poverty: if you have it, enjoy it; if you don't, IT DOESN'T MATTER. If you did have it, and it's gone, it doesn't matter. If you'd like it, and you don't have it, it doesn't matter. No material possessions --none-- matter.

Obedience: It's pretty much just the clergy and religious orders that have to take VOWS of obedience among the Christian people... but obedience is built into Christianity. "Not my will, but Yours be done". As the Bishop said, "who wants to be obedient? It's a lot better to be top dog". And I think a lot of Christians have lost this value. I am speaking of the Protestants, and in doing so I'm likely controversial, but I think it true. The Protestant mindset goes back to QUESTIONING, specifically the questioning of authority. And I don't deny that there was some serious garbage going on in the Church back in the 1300s on through to the 1600s that needed some serious fixing. The issue is when the Protestants decided that rather than trusting God to fix the Church, doing their part through prayer, urging, pleading --and loyalty!--; they decided to take matters into their own hands. My apologies to those who have made it this far into the entry, since I don't want to alienate you after all that hard work, but I think I'm on to something. I don't think the Protestants deny the important of obedience, I just think that they've messed up.

Anyway, moving on to the third field and religious vow. Chastity.

For a priest --for me--, this means celibacy: complete sexual abstince, for life. However, this is not so much the unusual in Christianity as it is the unmarried norm. No matter how liberal you get in your interpretation of Christianity, if you remain even halfways orthodox, you have to admit that sex is only intended for within marriage. And even then, there are certain rules (a bit more explicit, if Catholic). And, of the three vows, this one is truly the one that makes us odd ducks from today's society's point of view. Who wants this? Look at it from a modern secular humanist's point of view:

"What do you mean I can only have sex in marriage? I'm not hurting anyone; we're both having a good time! What do you mean I can't have sex with my fiancée before marriage? Come on! We'll be married in a month anyway... What do you mean I have to be faithful? Is one or two itsy-bitsy little affairs going to hurt that much? What if she never knows about it? What about gay guys? Do they count? I mean, really, it's not like it's the same as with her, so why get so tied in a knot about it? Well, can't we have a threesome at least? I mean, I'd still be having sex with my wife, even if there's anyother sexy party involved. Sheesh!!! Can't I at least masturbate or have oral sex?"

The answer from the Church: No. "NO" to all those suggestions, and "NO" to contraceptives. And it's non-negotiable.

As I said, we are odd ducks, and no mistake. From the world's point of view, we are raving lunatics.

The final idea that Bishop Henry's talk got my mind onto was somewhat weaker in its intensity, or seemed so, possibly because it came on the heels of the whole 'odd ducks' bit. But it's an interesting topic anyway, at least for me.

The topic is "detachment", and how a priest NEEDS to be detached. We (I say this with forward-looking expectations) need to able to remove ourselves from immediate, first-person concern. And this is not to make ourselves insensitive, said the Bishop, but to make us feel others' pain more deeply. And we will do so because we won't be taking sides; our judgement won't be clouded by deep personal involvement.

Note, of course, that the Bishop was not saying that we need to become reclusive zombies. Not at all! Rather, the Bishop was saying that we need to allow ourselves to not be tied down in our attachment to any particular person or place. We need, in our love for God and His people, to be able and willing to go wherever God needs, to serve however He wishes, and to not take upon ourselves the burdens that are not ours to carry.

But it is, as he said, a double-edged sword, for it can be lonely.

And, now that I get to re-thinking about this, a part of me is saying "YES!!! NOW I GET IT!!!" I have always been somewhat detached. I've never had a "best friend". Other than family, I cannot honestly say I have people who will miss me years after I'm gone. My funeral will be packed yes, but ten years later people won't say "I miss Michael sooo much!", but rather "I remember him, he was a nice guy". I can even say that the one online person who would (I think) truly miss me if gone is... well, family now. The rest of you would all have good memories, I think, and would mourn me, I hope, but you wouldn't ache ten years later to have a chat.

And you know what? It IS lonely. It is very lonely at times. There is no joking about that.

But it all makes sense now!!! It is such an awesome feeling, knowing that there is a reason, knowing that not only is it another cross to bear, but that it is a cross that I can see results to! Suffering, to a Christian, is never as difficult if one knows why than when one doesn't. And alleluia, I know why!!!

Okay, that has got to be my longest blog post yet. I could honestly not care less if anyone ever reads it (though I think the following debate could be highly amusing), I'm in such a good mood about it. I've remembered more than I expected to of His Excellency's talk, and looking at it in hindsight, I got a lot more out of it than I thought.

Out with the Old, In with the New

And so MMVII Anno Domini begins. Habemus Papam et non habemus archiepiscopus.

2006, in review, is not a year that I'm going to look back on with particular fondness. The first seven months were unmitigated boredom: Panago, no social life, not sure if I was accepted to Seminary. My life, insofar as I had one, was online. Not that you guys are bad company-- quite the contrary-- but you're kind of lacking being touchable, hearable, smellable, seeable, (tasteable). And you're pretty much lacking completely in knowing where I come from. The references to Timmies, to the hole in the back of the church, the QEII (or just plain ole #2), Banff, Torrington... things like that, well, they're just lost on you.

2006 started getting a lot better August 20th, when I moved to St. Joseph's Seminary. It was home right away, and I had the best semester of school (and the best semester of time) I've had in my life. Sure, the whole car-breaking-down thing in October was NOT fun, but by and large it's been a great time.

But 2007 is going to be awesome. I'm totally expecting another totally awesome semester of seminary and school. The spring is going to be loaded with weddings and ordinations. My youngest sister is making her First Communion. The oldest of my younger brothers is graduating. Summer will be here before I know it. Hopefully, I'll start working at a good, outdoor job (God-- and many others-- knows I need the exercise) in May, and we'll swing past the Bones Tournament, and be ready for another awesome semester in the Fall.

I'm sure I'll have my fair share of trials and tribulations this year. Those seem to be inevitable. And I'm sure there will be good things happening that I can't envision at the moment. Here's to an awesome year though, and here's hoping I get a new Archbishop before long.