I'm still utterly drained from getting way too little sleep last night, from switching time zones, and from having had a really full week in general, but while I'm getting about ready to head to bed, I feel I should probably get some thoughts down about the Eucharistic Congress while I still have the passion for it. It was entirely too important and central to my entire year to pass over.
In case it's not crystal clear already, let me state that it was the most awesome week of my life. It had everything: good company, awesome catechesis, beautiful liturgies, spiritual revelations, exotic locales, gorgeous churches, awe-inspiring music... the list just goes on and on.
I spent most of the week in the company of Roger, Matthew, and/or Paul, three of the other seminarians from St. Joseph Seminary, and for me especially, it was really good to spend a lot of time with my brothers, since because I go to Concordia I really don't get the same kind of bonding time during the regular school year. And we had a hoot, let me assure you.
But I would also wander off on my own, hang out with Edmonton pilgrims, meet new people. Indeed, that was another awesome part of the Congress: it was like a giant family in some respects. Everyone was willing to talk to (or try, at least) everyone else, and despite its size (25,000 registered people), it was still possible to keep bumping into the same people over and over and over again. The religious brothers and sisters, in particular, were amazing to see, with young vocations in their habits, visible signs of the sanctity of the Church.
But at the centre of everything, of course, was the Eucharist. We had Mass daily, there was adoration available in multiple churches and chapels throughout the city, and on Thursday we had a massive Eucharistic procession through the city. It was so large, in fact, that the end of the procession was barred from continuing into the old city. That unfortunately included my group, but even so... we had an awesome evening stumbling on a massive art-piece movie that played nightly along the side of the grain terminals in the harbour, commemorating the 400th anniversary of the province.
And the heritage of Quebec City is itself amazing. It was like being back in Europe... except it was in Canada. And it is so thoroughly Catholic in its history. Churches dot every skyline, many of them, and the city is full of old convents. Of course, this means that the drop in numbers at the church is all that more sharply illuminated, but coming from the prairies, it is awesome to see somewhere so monolithically Catholic in its visual aesthetic.
Can you tell I had an awesome trip?
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Saturday, June 07, 2008
Privacy Issues
It's been an interesting summer thus far, make no mistake, and according to the calendar, it hasn't even started yet. The first three weeks, right enough, were simply jam-packed with school and so didn't have much going on, but already in the two weeks since I've been hitting moment after moment of deep, thought-provoking material, here inside my skull.
One particular note that has struck me in the last week goes back to a comment in Winnipeg about Fr. Geoffrey, in regards to how tired he would be after a weekend of ordination and first Masses, and SO many people congratulating him, especially given how much of an introvert he is. Okay, nothing I didn't know before... but then in conjunction with this my mind made a random connection when I was reading about C.S. Lewis, also this week, and how he was an immensely private individual. The author was making the connection with the recurring motif in the Narnia chronicles of Aslan telling people no story but their own, and this struck a chord with me.
I was reminded, in fact, of my blogs. Each of my "blogs" (to use the term a bit loosely) caters to a different audience. Facebook, the most recent, is pretty much open to everybody, but simply because of its broad nature, it tends get the "real-life" comments about my life, whereas LiveJournal gets the full brunt of my internet-related life. And while I'm more than willing to let the LiveJournal crowd spill over into Facebook, never have I let on to anyone in real life about LiveJournal (well, siblings and parents know about it, but that's from shoulder-reading more than any online connection). As for this blog, although I've cross-posted a couple posts with Facebook (and other ones with LJ), I've never linked to it either. This one is also more focused on internet-friends, but it's less focused on them. The posts on LJ are very much audience-oriented, which typically translates into lack of content, or into sporadic rants. Blogspot, however, is where I go to work out my thoughts. If people read it, then fine--but only if they're online friends.
I'm not entirely sure WHY I've made this distinction, but it's been around for two years, since I signed onto Blogger, and I don't foresee making it anything else. The fact that I'm a rather private individual is nothing new; the whole reason the comment about Fr. Geoffrey struck me was because it could well apply to me six years from now--my ordination weekend could very well be utterly draining. Although I'm what I call an "outgoing introvert," I definitely need private time alone. This works well, I think, in the priestly vocation, because I like people and I can be around them all day, but I need time alone. I've really noticed this since moving into the rectory. Most of the time, I've cloistered myself in my room and I've been completely happy. My favourite moments have been when it's just me and the cat in the rectory. Part of the reason may be that I've had a LOT of people between school and extraordinary things like the trip to Winnipeg to cause me to need some downtime, but I think a lot of it simply stems from preferring a very private home life. In the seminary, my room tends to see visitors about four times a year, not because I actively shun society, but because I go out to find it rather than invite it in, and people tend to pick up on this reservedness.
Anyway, getting back to the internet/"real life" dichotomy, the issue is not why am I so reserved toward people I know in person, but rather why I'm NOT as guarded with people online. Sure, one can make the case that since I can't interact in real life, I'm protected from having to physically bring them into my life, but that doesn't seem quite an adequate explanation. A lot of the things that I post on here come up in conversation with people in real life, brought up by me because I want to make the same points with them that I do here... but never, ever, have I come anywhere near saying I have this blog. For whatever reason, it's sacrosanct... even though... actually... it's not.
Now, whatever this odd mentality may result from, the ironic truth of the matter is that it wouldn't be hard to find this blog. A google search of my name (including that ever-present initial "A") yields this blog, LiveJournal, Classic-Castle, and the Barrow-Downs (and maybe Facebook... it's been a couple years since I checked), and obviously anyone on Facebook knows my name.
But will I ever tell anyone? Unlikely... I have issues telling people in real life what my phone number is. Not if they ask, but offering is like pulling teeth without anaesthetic.
Actually, that may well be the root peccadillo in play here: I don't like asking people to put themselves out for me, at all. I'm more than happy to assist people, if I'm capable, but even the simplest of things, even things people might enjoy doing, I have a really hard time asking.
Food for thought, Michael.
One particular note that has struck me in the last week goes back to a comment in Winnipeg about Fr. Geoffrey, in regards to how tired he would be after a weekend of ordination and first Masses, and SO many people congratulating him, especially given how much of an introvert he is. Okay, nothing I didn't know before... but then in conjunction with this my mind made a random connection when I was reading about C.S. Lewis, also this week, and how he was an immensely private individual. The author was making the connection with the recurring motif in the Narnia chronicles of Aslan telling people no story but their own, and this struck a chord with me.
I was reminded, in fact, of my blogs. Each of my "blogs" (to use the term a bit loosely) caters to a different audience. Facebook, the most recent, is pretty much open to everybody, but simply because of its broad nature, it tends get the "real-life" comments about my life, whereas LiveJournal gets the full brunt of my internet-related life. And while I'm more than willing to let the LiveJournal crowd spill over into Facebook, never have I let on to anyone in real life about LiveJournal (well, siblings and parents know about it, but that's from shoulder-reading more than any online connection). As for this blog, although I've cross-posted a couple posts with Facebook (and other ones with LJ), I've never linked to it either. This one is also more focused on internet-friends, but it's less focused on them. The posts on LJ are very much audience-oriented, which typically translates into lack of content, or into sporadic rants. Blogspot, however, is where I go to work out my thoughts. If people read it, then fine--but only if they're online friends.
I'm not entirely sure WHY I've made this distinction, but it's been around for two years, since I signed onto Blogger, and I don't foresee making it anything else. The fact that I'm a rather private individual is nothing new; the whole reason the comment about Fr. Geoffrey struck me was because it could well apply to me six years from now--my ordination weekend could very well be utterly draining. Although I'm what I call an "outgoing introvert," I definitely need private time alone. This works well, I think, in the priestly vocation, because I like people and I can be around them all day, but I need time alone. I've really noticed this since moving into the rectory. Most of the time, I've cloistered myself in my room and I've been completely happy. My favourite moments have been when it's just me and the cat in the rectory. Part of the reason may be that I've had a LOT of people between school and extraordinary things like the trip to Winnipeg to cause me to need some downtime, but I think a lot of it simply stems from preferring a very private home life. In the seminary, my room tends to see visitors about four times a year, not because I actively shun society, but because I go out to find it rather than invite it in, and people tend to pick up on this reservedness.
Anyway, getting back to the internet/"real life" dichotomy, the issue is not why am I so reserved toward people I know in person, but rather why I'm NOT as guarded with people online. Sure, one can make the case that since I can't interact in real life, I'm protected from having to physically bring them into my life, but that doesn't seem quite an adequate explanation. A lot of the things that I post on here come up in conversation with people in real life, brought up by me because I want to make the same points with them that I do here... but never, ever, have I come anywhere near saying I have this blog. For whatever reason, it's sacrosanct... even though... actually... it's not.
Now, whatever this odd mentality may result from, the ironic truth of the matter is that it wouldn't be hard to find this blog. A google search of my name (including that ever-present initial "A") yields this blog, LiveJournal, Classic-Castle, and the Barrow-Downs (and maybe Facebook... it's been a couple years since I checked), and obviously anyone on Facebook knows my name.
But will I ever tell anyone? Unlikely... I have issues telling people in real life what my phone number is. Not if they ask, but offering is like pulling teeth without anaesthetic.
Actually, that may well be the root peccadillo in play here: I don't like asking people to put themselves out for me, at all. I'm more than happy to assist people, if I'm capable, but even the simplest of things, even things people might enjoy doing, I have a really hard time asking.
Food for thought, Michael.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
"Nothing More Beautiful"
Today, instead of doing much work, I was encouraged by my immediate superior to attend the Pastoral Assistants day that was going on at the Pastoral Centre. I went last year, and it's a pretty good time. I sat with the St. Theresa's crowd again, because I'm generally timid about meeting new people, and although there were definitely familiar faces, it's still largely a crowd I don't know.
In the afternoon, Archbishop Smith gave a presentation on his five year plan for the New Evangelisation, which is to commence this fall. I'd already heard it once, about a month back when he gave it to a large group of "influential" (by which I mean high involved as youth ministers and the like) young adults, but it was still awesome to hear it again. The first time was awesome, since it came at unawares, and the vibe in the room was ecstatic, but the second time was good too, as a refresher. I'm not sure the pastoral assistants had the same excited feeling, but my eagerness for getting this underway was boosted again after having been largely forgotten in the midst of a million and one other things that have passed since the start of May.
The New Evangelisation, since probably no one is familiar with the concept, is the idea of revitalising the faith of the Catholic community in our archdiocese, over the course of the next five years, and then putting this into practice as we witness, as a diocese, to the world. This does not mean, as the Archbishop was quick to clarify today, that regular church efforts will be put on hold for five years. No, everything continues according to normal, but in the midst of all this normal there will be a concerted plan to re-educate, rekindle, and reinvigorate the faith of Catholics. It will be a simple plan, not intended to add "yet another thing" to the list of the programs and events that are ongoing. Instead, it is intended to fit into all those things already ongoing.
Anyway, the exact details of HOW it's going to work are still under "construction", and I'm not the best at visualising such things anyway. What chiefly has me, in particular, thrilled about is the theme: "Nothing More Beautiful".
"Nothing More Beautiful" is from a line in Pope Benedict's homily at his inaugural Mass as Pontiff, a line that apparently resonated with the Archbishop, and I must admit is rather cool indeed. The line goes: "There is nothing more beautiful than to be surprised by the Gospel, by the encounter with Christ. There is nothing more beautiful than to know Him and to speak to others of our friendship with Him."
"There is Nothing More Beautiful."
While I would definitely agree regarding the truth of this statement in any case, the ideas and thoughts that have played across my mind in the last couple years have made this resonate loudly throughout my mind since I first heard the Archbishop's presentation. One thing that has become crystal clear about my faith, the Catholic faith, since coming to seminary, is the immense respect we have for symbolism, and the great usage of it that our tradition holds.
In large part, this stems back to the Catholic notions regarding the physical universe. We do not have a Protestant viewpoint, which tends to see the material world as "evil" and to be avoided. This stems, I think, largely from a very literal reading of the epistles of St. Paul, who certainly does speak about the evils of the flesh-- but it should be noted that this does not mean that St. Paul is speaking of physical bodies, and thus the physical world, as inherently evil, but rather that he is using the word to indicate the inclinations and temptations that the world, in its fallen state, can present to us, and which certainly is in contraposition to the Word of God.
It has been, however, always the contention of the Church that the world is inherently good, going right back to Genesis, where it says quite clearly about every part of creation: "and God saw that it was good". This understanding of the fundamental goodness of creation is present throughout Catholic theology. Our understanding of marriage and sex is coloured with the understanding that this physical, bodily action is an inherently good and beneficial gift--albeit prone to much corruption since the Fall. The importance of physical matter is key to an understanding of how Catholics view the sacraments. Indeed, some sort of a physical element is necessary for them to even be a sacrament, be it a touch, or an anointing, or food (incidentally, the sacrament of marriage's physical touch is... you guessed it... sex). And, of course, there is our much maligned fondness toward building beautiful cathedrals, wearing gorgeous vestments, using gilded chalices, and rich decoration of every sort. We understand, and express it in the very symbolism of our incredibly rich liturgy, that symbolism, physical symbols, have immense power. We acknowledge and celebrate the fact that humans are material beings, not purely spiritual. It is at the very heart of Catholicism to use symbols.
With this in mind, and with this being very dear to my heart, the theme "Nothing More Beautiful" strikes a dear chord for me. Most people I know, especially those liable to read this here online, do not understand just how deeply this resonates. The whole fibre of my being tingles at the beauty of the Mass. If I feel strongly that churches should be soaring and grand, that vestments should be richly embroidered, that music should be solemn and awe-inspiring, it all stems from the very roots of my heart that recognizes the beauty in such things, and wants to cry out with joy to the Lord with all the instruments at its disposal.
Another of the lines that Archbishop Smith took from Pope Benedict on this matter expresses it exactly in my mind. People think, in general, that being a seminarian, being a devout Catholic in general, means giving up enjoyment and fun, that one lives a dreary life in the hope of the next life to come--but this is NOT so! I wish I could find the quote (the Archbishop's first letter on the New Evangelisation does not quote it, and I can't remember where he took it from), but it was basically to the effect that being a Christian is not a limited life of rules and regulations, but a joyful encounter with Christ.
This has struck me a bit more than usual this spring, as I've eased back into regular chatting with friends online... that people really don't get how awesome my life is. There is nothing, nothing more beautiful that I can possibly imagine than knowing you are serving Christ. I can imagine a hundred different ways this joy might be played out, but none of them can be imagined separate from doing one's best to serve and follow Him, and to observe His ways. Following Christ is not a chaining up of one's life, it is a freedom. "The Truth will set you free" the Bible proclaims, and I burn with a passion that wants to flame to the heavens attempting to find the words to explain it. I use a lot of words like "flame" and "burning" trying to express what I feel when I'm thinking about service to Jesus, but fire isn't the only imagery. The pounding wind in your face as you roar down the highway with the windows open can be used too.
The inability to convey completely what I feel is something of a sad thing, since I feel, as a part of it, so sad for those that I love (and yes, I do love you people) not being able to feel this, not feeling Jesus' love for them, and the awesome feeling of being able to love Him back, and yet, despite that, there is something about the simple fact that I can't explain it that is an essential part of this all-soaring love. It's limitless. It's infinite. The love one feels for Jesus and feels expressed in return is the best touch we can have with the infinite.
There is, indeed, nothing more beautiful.
In the afternoon, Archbishop Smith gave a presentation on his five year plan for the New Evangelisation, which is to commence this fall. I'd already heard it once, about a month back when he gave it to a large group of "influential" (by which I mean high involved as youth ministers and the like) young adults, but it was still awesome to hear it again. The first time was awesome, since it came at unawares, and the vibe in the room was ecstatic, but the second time was good too, as a refresher. I'm not sure the pastoral assistants had the same excited feeling, but my eagerness for getting this underway was boosted again after having been largely forgotten in the midst of a million and one other things that have passed since the start of May.
The New Evangelisation, since probably no one is familiar with the concept, is the idea of revitalising the faith of the Catholic community in our archdiocese, over the course of the next five years, and then putting this into practice as we witness, as a diocese, to the world. This does not mean, as the Archbishop was quick to clarify today, that regular church efforts will be put on hold for five years. No, everything continues according to normal, but in the midst of all this normal there will be a concerted plan to re-educate, rekindle, and reinvigorate the faith of Catholics. It will be a simple plan, not intended to add "yet another thing" to the list of the programs and events that are ongoing. Instead, it is intended to fit into all those things already ongoing.
Anyway, the exact details of HOW it's going to work are still under "construction", and I'm not the best at visualising such things anyway. What chiefly has me, in particular, thrilled about is the theme: "Nothing More Beautiful".
"Nothing More Beautiful" is from a line in Pope Benedict's homily at his inaugural Mass as Pontiff, a line that apparently resonated with the Archbishop, and I must admit is rather cool indeed. The line goes: "There is nothing more beautiful than to be surprised by the Gospel, by the encounter with Christ. There is nothing more beautiful than to know Him and to speak to others of our friendship with Him."
"There is Nothing More Beautiful."
While I would definitely agree regarding the truth of this statement in any case, the ideas and thoughts that have played across my mind in the last couple years have made this resonate loudly throughout my mind since I first heard the Archbishop's presentation. One thing that has become crystal clear about my faith, the Catholic faith, since coming to seminary, is the immense respect we have for symbolism, and the great usage of it that our tradition holds.
In large part, this stems back to the Catholic notions regarding the physical universe. We do not have a Protestant viewpoint, which tends to see the material world as "evil" and to be avoided. This stems, I think, largely from a very literal reading of the epistles of St. Paul, who certainly does speak about the evils of the flesh-- but it should be noted that this does not mean that St. Paul is speaking of physical bodies, and thus the physical world, as inherently evil, but rather that he is using the word to indicate the inclinations and temptations that the world, in its fallen state, can present to us, and which certainly is in contraposition to the Word of God.
It has been, however, always the contention of the Church that the world is inherently good, going right back to Genesis, where it says quite clearly about every part of creation: "and God saw that it was good". This understanding of the fundamental goodness of creation is present throughout Catholic theology. Our understanding of marriage and sex is coloured with the understanding that this physical, bodily action is an inherently good and beneficial gift--albeit prone to much corruption since the Fall. The importance of physical matter is key to an understanding of how Catholics view the sacraments. Indeed, some sort of a physical element is necessary for them to even be a sacrament, be it a touch, or an anointing, or food (incidentally, the sacrament of marriage's physical touch is... you guessed it... sex). And, of course, there is our much maligned fondness toward building beautiful cathedrals, wearing gorgeous vestments, using gilded chalices, and rich decoration of every sort. We understand, and express it in the very symbolism of our incredibly rich liturgy, that symbolism, physical symbols, have immense power. We acknowledge and celebrate the fact that humans are material beings, not purely spiritual. It is at the very heart of Catholicism to use symbols.
With this in mind, and with this being very dear to my heart, the theme "Nothing More Beautiful" strikes a dear chord for me. Most people I know, especially those liable to read this here online, do not understand just how deeply this resonates. The whole fibre of my being tingles at the beauty of the Mass. If I feel strongly that churches should be soaring and grand, that vestments should be richly embroidered, that music should be solemn and awe-inspiring, it all stems from the very roots of my heart that recognizes the beauty in such things, and wants to cry out with joy to the Lord with all the instruments at its disposal.
Another of the lines that Archbishop Smith took from Pope Benedict on this matter expresses it exactly in my mind. People think, in general, that being a seminarian, being a devout Catholic in general, means giving up enjoyment and fun, that one lives a dreary life in the hope of the next life to come--but this is NOT so! I wish I could find the quote (the Archbishop's first letter on the New Evangelisation does not quote it, and I can't remember where he took it from), but it was basically to the effect that being a Christian is not a limited life of rules and regulations, but a joyful encounter with Christ.
This has struck me a bit more than usual this spring, as I've eased back into regular chatting with friends online... that people really don't get how awesome my life is. There is nothing, nothing more beautiful that I can possibly imagine than knowing you are serving Christ. I can imagine a hundred different ways this joy might be played out, but none of them can be imagined separate from doing one's best to serve and follow Him, and to observe His ways. Following Christ is not a chaining up of one's life, it is a freedom. "The Truth will set you free" the Bible proclaims, and I burn with a passion that wants to flame to the heavens attempting to find the words to explain it. I use a lot of words like "flame" and "burning" trying to express what I feel when I'm thinking about service to Jesus, but fire isn't the only imagery. The pounding wind in your face as you roar down the highway with the windows open can be used too.
The inability to convey completely what I feel is something of a sad thing, since I feel, as a part of it, so sad for those that I love (and yes, I do love you people) not being able to feel this, not feeling Jesus' love for them, and the awesome feeling of being able to love Him back, and yet, despite that, there is something about the simple fact that I can't explain it that is an essential part of this all-soaring love. It's limitless. It's infinite. The love one feels for Jesus and feels expressed in return is the best touch we can have with the infinite.
There is, indeed, nothing more beautiful.
Monday, June 02, 2008
Roadtrip to Winnipeg
This probably isn't the best time to be posting, since I'm cross-legged on the floor with a sore back (I lean forward all day at work over documents... and now I'm sitting on the floor), and I seem to have picked up a devastating cold over the past 24 hours, and I certainly haven't had enough sleep for three days straight...
But when is it going to be an optimal time? I want to write about my weekend while my excitement levels are still high. Due to the cold and having been back for a day of work, they've dipped significantly already, but even in the worst of my achy-breaky pain, I can definitely look back and say it's one of the best weekends I've had in years. Maybe ever.
I left Edmonton on Thursday with Deacon Travis, and we drove out to Saskatoon, halfway across the prairies, and five-six hours down the Yellowhead. We had some good conversation on the way down, and that evening the beer-drinking commenced, followed by some liquour once I got dropped off at the Cathedral rectory where I was staying with Geoffrey, another seminarian. After the arrival of the fourth member of our party (the other Michael from Edmonton), and a formal introduction to "The Office" (British version), we crawled into bed around midnight.
On Friday the four of us headed down the Yellowhead to Winnipeg, pulling into the parking lot of the St-Boniface Basilica rectory half an hour later than we ought to have due to getting lost (Winnipeg has no rhyme or reason to its city planning... and I'm not talking aesthetic curves but complete nonsense of straight roads... completely unjustified in a prairie city). Still, once Paul (another, local, seminarian) showed us through the bowels of the rectory, we got dressed and were given the benefit of his wisdom finding our way back across the Red River to the Cathedral of the Winnipeg Archdiocese (due to Irish/French inability to get along, there are two Catholic Archdioceses in Winnipeg. St-Boniface is French and older), where Geoffrey and James were to be ordained priests.
The liturgy was beautiful... albeit slightly irregular, and was completely packed. After two hours of Mass and an hour or more of reception, some of us headed over to the Elephant and Castle pub across the street for the weekend's second round of beer, and then off to our respective beds. By the time I was in bed in the rectory of Paul's pastor, it was past 1:00 am (Winnipeg time).
Saturday we were supposed to be early for Fr. James' first Mass, but we were five minutes late. After the luncheon reception, Paul took Travis, Geoffrey (from Saskatoon, not the recently-ordained), and myself down to the Forks, then we went to Travis's uncle's for a steak supper. Then it was off to Fr. Geoffrey's home parish for HIS first Mass. Now, Fr. Geoffrey is Filipino, and it was a regularly scheduled Sunday Mass as well, so it was packed. Despite being 25 minutes early, Paul and I were still not able to sit in the church-proper.
After a lavish reception, and good-byes, Travis dropped Paul, Geoffrey, and myself off at Paul's house, where we watched Ghostbusters, and had more beer. By the time I got back to the rectory, it was well after midnight.
On Sunday morning, the four of us from the west regathered nice and early, and headed out from Winnipeg. We reached Saskatoon in mid-afternoon, and decided to have more beer at Winston's Pub near the Cathedral. Around 5:00, us Edmonton Michaels decided we should hit the road, so we parted ways with the Saskatchewan boys, and headed west. By 10:00 we had hit Edmonton.
Despite so much time in the car, it was an awesome weekend, and quite often the best fun was in the car. Roadtrips are fun, and I would sign up in a heartbeat for another one right now. Just like my return from Europe, I've got no real desire to settle down as a result of my travels. Unlike Europe, however, I'm not going to have to wait three years for a follow-up trip of a comparable nature. Instead, I'm off on a comparably long roadtrip to Idaho (although without company...) in a month, and I'm pumped for it. And in less than two weeks I get my long-anticipated "Next Pilgrimage-like flight" follow-up to Europe when I go to Quebec City for the International Eucharist Congress. After hanging out with the seminarians all weekend, I'm pumped for that too.
Life really is awesome. This summer really is awesome. Thank you, Jesus, that I have a job that lets me do this!
But when is it going to be an optimal time? I want to write about my weekend while my excitement levels are still high. Due to the cold and having been back for a day of work, they've dipped significantly already, but even in the worst of my achy-breaky pain, I can definitely look back and say it's one of the best weekends I've had in years. Maybe ever.
I left Edmonton on Thursday with Deacon Travis, and we drove out to Saskatoon, halfway across the prairies, and five-six hours down the Yellowhead. We had some good conversation on the way down, and that evening the beer-drinking commenced, followed by some liquour once I got dropped off at the Cathedral rectory where I was staying with Geoffrey, another seminarian. After the arrival of the fourth member of our party (the other Michael from Edmonton), and a formal introduction to "The Office" (British version), we crawled into bed around midnight.
On Friday the four of us headed down the Yellowhead to Winnipeg, pulling into the parking lot of the St-Boniface Basilica rectory half an hour later than we ought to have due to getting lost (Winnipeg has no rhyme or reason to its city planning... and I'm not talking aesthetic curves but complete nonsense of straight roads... completely unjustified in a prairie city). Still, once Paul (another, local, seminarian) showed us through the bowels of the rectory, we got dressed and were given the benefit of his wisdom finding our way back across the Red River to the Cathedral of the Winnipeg Archdiocese (due to Irish/French inability to get along, there are two Catholic Archdioceses in Winnipeg. St-Boniface is French and older), where Geoffrey and James were to be ordained priests.
The liturgy was beautiful... albeit slightly irregular, and was completely packed. After two hours of Mass and an hour or more of reception, some of us headed over to the Elephant and Castle pub across the street for the weekend's second round of beer, and then off to our respective beds. By the time I was in bed in the rectory of Paul's pastor, it was past 1:00 am (Winnipeg time).
Saturday we were supposed to be early for Fr. James' first Mass, but we were five minutes late. After the luncheon reception, Paul took Travis, Geoffrey (from Saskatoon, not the recently-ordained), and myself down to the Forks, then we went to Travis's uncle's for a steak supper. Then it was off to Fr. Geoffrey's home parish for HIS first Mass. Now, Fr. Geoffrey is Filipino, and it was a regularly scheduled Sunday Mass as well, so it was packed. Despite being 25 minutes early, Paul and I were still not able to sit in the church-proper.
After a lavish reception, and good-byes, Travis dropped Paul, Geoffrey, and myself off at Paul's house, where we watched Ghostbusters, and had more beer. By the time I got back to the rectory, it was well after midnight.
On Sunday morning, the four of us from the west regathered nice and early, and headed out from Winnipeg. We reached Saskatoon in mid-afternoon, and decided to have more beer at Winston's Pub near the Cathedral. Around 5:00, us Edmonton Michaels decided we should hit the road, so we parted ways with the Saskatchewan boys, and headed west. By 10:00 we had hit Edmonton.
Despite so much time in the car, it was an awesome weekend, and quite often the best fun was in the car. Roadtrips are fun, and I would sign up in a heartbeat for another one right now. Just like my return from Europe, I've got no real desire to settle down as a result of my travels. Unlike Europe, however, I'm not going to have to wait three years for a follow-up trip of a comparable nature. Instead, I'm off on a comparably long roadtrip to Idaho (although without company...) in a month, and I'm pumped for it. And in less than two weeks I get my long-anticipated "Next Pilgrimage-like flight" follow-up to Europe when I go to Quebec City for the International Eucharist Congress. After hanging out with the seminarians all weekend, I'm pumped for that too.
Life really is awesome. This summer really is awesome. Thank you, Jesus, that I have a job that lets me do this!
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