Like Warm Humble Pie!

Like Warm Humble Pie

They say that the teacher teaches when the students are ready to learn.  This old adage is something I reflect on often and wonder about how true it is.

I happen to teach, coach, and minister.  Life gets busy and there are days I look out at my students and view their immaturity and insecurities and it frustrates the hell out of me.  Many days the students are not ready to learn.  They are distracted by technology or maybe just stayed up too late the night before.  They are tired and bored from the monotony of life.  There are times I ask myself, “am I in the wrong profession or working somewhere else could provide a stronger financial future, so why am I still here?”

This past Wednesday was a full and busy day as usual.  After school I decided to go to Crossfit (this insane workout that Sobremesa signed up to do).  After working out, it was off to this restaurant, Lisa’s, to meet up with a couple of guys I grew up with from Victoria.  I only planned to do dinner and then head home early to get ready for the next day.  What turned out to be a simple dinner turned into a late morning filled with drinks, catching up, political and theological debate.  We argued about the soul of Capitalism and who would be the better president.   Intensity and frustration would be good descriptors for that short grace filled time.  Needless to say, it was loads of fun.

Unfortunately, reality set-in as I headed home.  I needed to finish writing a quiz for the next day and it was no surprise that I fell asleep on the computer (literally) while writing the quiz.  I arose early the next morning to finish the quiz and was, as usual, running late to school.  As I was making copies, the copier jammed.  Next, I was late to my first period class.  Then a question was posed to me upon entering room 159, “Mr. G, are you alright?  You look tired, bro.”  After taking a big gulp of coffee I was humbled and all I could say was, “you are pretty observant aren’t you?”

I was chewing a big piece of humble pie because my young student hit the nail on the head; I was beat and wondering how I was going to take on the rest of the day.  There was no choice and I had to do what I had to do but the question posed to me during first period stuck.   Jesus, in chapter 6 of Luke’s Gospel, cautions and inspires us with the following questions and lesson,

⁴¹ Why do you look at the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? ⁴² Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take out the speck that is in your eye,’ when you yourself do not see the log that is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck that is in your brother’s eye. 

As mentioned above, it is so easy for me to peer out at my students (or anyone for that matter) and get frustrated about where I think they should or shouldn’t be on this journey of life.  Here I was just the other day frustrated and annoyed with my students for not focusing or being too distracted when it came to school.  That morning I was guilty of the same thing.  Instead of seeing them (students) as culprits and distracted children, perhaps I need to observe and consider my own imperfections and contradictions.  I ought to work on how I can bridge my perceived separation between God and I.   It was time for me to be humbled, and frankly, I needed to be humbled. We must also be aware that life will, at times, draw out occasion for us to experience warm humble pie.  Let us not be afraid of those times and willingly accept those times as grace.

This doesn’t mean, however, that we should never challenge, in love, our neighbors or the world.   Jesus, I believe, is also suggesting we not forget the taste of warm humble pie because when there is a need to “put my foot down” or “stand my ground,” I must do that with the greatest care and love for the other person.  We should respect where people are and meet them where they are, as good educators and master teachers do, while still working to challenge our neighbors and the world around us.

The Latin root word for education is educatio.  The use of the Latin “e” means “draw out of” and if we are to be good teachers (I believe we all are in some capacity even if our workplace isn’t the classroom) we must, diligently and with great love and care, work and challenge the world to draw out that LOVE so it can me manifested in all things. 

The Master Teacher, God, is always patient with us and accepts us wherever we are.  Let us ready ourselves to learn from the Master Teacher.  In fact, that Teacher is waiting for us now.  Peace.

Prove It.

This has been one of the more emotionally exhausting weeks I can remember having, in the best of ways.

As Jen mentioned in her last post, I (we) have been preparing for Jhonny's visa interview in the Dominican Republic with the US Consulate. Though Jhonny and I got engaged last November, until this last week (Tuesday, to be exact), we didn't really know or have any idea the when, where, "if" of it all. As he is not a US citizen, and is from/lives in the DR, we embarked on the K1 finace visa journey. It took us from November to February to get everything (paperwork) in order. USCIS received our application of February 14, 2012, and on October 16, 2012 - 8 months, many headaches, ridiculous amounts of effort, lots of prayers and tears and struggle, wishes cast on shooting stars in the Caribbean, a few hurdles of others' disapproval, and whole lot of blessings later - we were granted permission for him to immigrate to the US so we can get married. It has been an indescribable journey, which many people have walked many steps of with us; as we left the Consulate office on Tuesday, ecstatic and grinning from ear to ear, we couldn't help but be so abundantly humbled and filled with gratitude for the many, many members of the communion of saints here on earth, whose accompaniment in various ways helped and enabled us to get here.

I could go into a lot more detail here about the visa process, the ins and outs, the struggles and realities and glimmers of hope throughout these past 8-11 months. But I won't - if you're interested in knowing more, shoot me an email. For now I just want to focus on the big overarching idea of it all - and maybe make us all stop to think for a minute, if you will.

This visa process, essentially, challenged Jhonny and me to prove our love. In recent correspondence with a dear friend who has seen the evolution of our relationship over the past almost 5 years, she shared her questioning about this - how do you prove something (to a complete stranger) that is so very much a gift from God written on your hearts? How do you prove God's love made manifest in our human reality? How do you prove that which fills your heart (and has the potential to break it); how do you prove the Divine's presence?

This has stuck with me. Jhonny and I proved it through pictures and papers and plane ticket stubs and phone bills; through letters from friends both here and there who have witnessed us together, seen us interact; through pictures and answering questions about one another; through our own historical accounts of the past 4 years and 8 months; through our standing there together on Tuesday, and trusting that this person making the decision would see in our eyes the deep and profound God-given love that we have for one another - a love that crosses cultural, language, racial educational and socio-economic barriers. But we didn't prove it alone.

There is not a doubt in my mind that proof of our love also came from the hundreds of prayers being offered for us all over the world for the past few weeks since we got word of the interview date, and specifically on Tuesday. Proof came from the intercession of young women novices entering religious life on the East coast, from high school girls struggling to understand the connection between a universal theme of love and a controversial political topic of immigration, from friends of those I am close to in California and Hawaii, from shared petitions at mass, from well wishes of those in countries as far reaching as Ecuador and Morocco; from people holding us up in prayer in New York and Texas, the Dominican Republic and Spain and Nicaragua, Baltimore, Ohio, New Mexico and so, so many others places. Proof came from a shared prayer with a loved one days prior at the feet of our Lady of Guadalupe - asking Mary to continue accompanying this endeavor, to finish interceding for the work she began with us, to let us release and relinquish all to her so she - a woman and a wife, could do her thing. And do her thing she did, thankfully.

So where am I going with this, and what does this mean? Well, first, I think it means we cannot prove love independent of community. We need others - we need each other - we need community, and the communion of saints that we belong to on this land, to help others see that which God makes happen on earth. The power of prayer is remarkable, that I know for sure is true. Jhonny and I could not have made it this far without our individual communities: Jen and Louie, John and Pancho. And I am convinced that it is the wider community's prayers - and support, accompaniment and love - that allowed our love to be recognized as true and genuine, that allowed a complete stranger to see what God has placed on our hearts. So many people have played a part in this journey with us - probably more people than we're even aware of - and it was a community effort (and a lot of help from the Blessed Mother) to make God's love become visible.

But this also begs for me a bigger question. What if we all had to prove our love for one another - a Christian love; not just a romantic love, but a love for our sisters and brothers around the world, that we share quite simply just because we are part of this larger human family; a love that strives for justice for all and comes not from a human desire, or from lust or attraction, but a love that truly comes from God - what if we constantly had to prove our love?

What if we constantly had to prove our love? What would our world look like? Would there be war, hunger, senseless murder, gang territories dividing neighborhoods? Would there be unfair labor practices, an immeasurable gap between the haves and the have-nots, a fence dividing families and sending the constant message of "keep out"? Would there be hate, racism, sexism, ageism? Would we be a part of a society that says only certain people (with the "correct" sexual orientation) can get married? Would we part of a society that cannot seem to comprehend that both the death penalty and abortion lie within a consistent ethic of life? Would we be tearing families apart because a specific member doesn't have a particular paper? Would we be listening to mud-slinging propaganda day after day that is supposed to convince us of the best person to be leading one of the world's most powerful nations?

What would our world look like if we all had to prove our love?
What would your world look like if you had to prove your love?

My New Fall

Jen's New Fall


I was blessed with an opportunity to travel I-10 from San Antonio to Kerrville today to host a retreat this weekend at Tecaboca. The trip is a short 90 minute adventure filled with fresh pizza and 18 wheelers. I was surrounded by blue sky stretching forever... with the clouds casting their shadows on the rolling hills. The grass, shrubs and trees all beautiful shades of GREEN. For Texas, I am sure this is a good thing... it has rained so much lately, everything is green. The thing is, I grew up on the East Coast. The Fall was filled with deep reds and delicious oranges and vibrant yellows, making the trees magical. Not the case here in Texas.

This made me think of all of things I miss about Fall, my old Falls. I thought about Homecoming Games (and chaperoning dances) where families recognized me, Lacrosse games (not a popular sport down here), the Colorfest in Thurmont(a tiny town known as the "the Gateway to the Mountains" on the Catoctin Mountain. They host this fantastic town-wide craft fair my family would often check out), carving pumpkins (I have not found ONE pumpkin field), and waiting for my uncle’s famous homemade apple pie. Being there for my mom’s birthday. Celebrating Canadian Thanksgiving with my family. All of these “things” are really memories I have… romanticized maybe… but either way, I re-live these memories every Fall.

They are the type of memories that are warm and fuzzy. When I think of them, I start missing not only Maryland, but my family too. This is where I always get stuck. I like tradition. I like knowing what to expect and anticipating it. Moving from Maryland to Texas makes that harder… as you could imagine. Community has also made that harder. I am challenged to let go of my old traditions to make room for new traditions and memories. I have to be present to Sobremesa, Clare, and Louie in order to make my new Fall memories. This is hard for me. I fight it more often than not. It’s so much easier to worry about what I want to do and how I want to spend my time… just doesn’t work that way in community. I care about what Louie and Clare want to do. I care about their traditions. Lonni Pratt and Father Homan tell us in Radical Hospitality, “This kind of care is in the details; it is revealed in our passion to prepare a place for someone. When we really care about someone, we try a bit harder.”  I think this is what happening to me. I want to let go or let my old “Fall” ideas die to be present to the new Fall. The Fall memories I am making with my community.  I am ready… just like this season… Fall is a time for death in order to prepare. I am appreciating the time we spend with one another, present to one another and to the community as a whole. I appreciate preparing meals for Louie and Clare and for our guests because it will allow us to be together at the table talking story. I appreciate my time vacuuming and sweeping (mom… don’t get too excited) because Louie and Clare appreciate it and it makes our home more comfortable for guests. I am learning to appreciate making new traditions and new memories because it gives me a chance to grow and I know that I am not alone.

Our Fall has looked a little like this:

-          Clare working hard to get Jhonny here… helping her make binders, listening to her frustrations and sharing in her joys. This week she goes to the Dominican Republic to be interviewed by Immigration to determine if Jhonny gets a Visa. I will never forget this experience.

-          We went out to a fancy meal as a community (first one I can remember). We turned lots of heads, laughed heartily and shared delicious food.

-          Bruises and scratches from my new friends at my new job. I’m learning to LISTEN in a new and different way. I am blessed to come home to both Clare and Louie and share my day. Making the day, the frustrations, the sadness, the laughter real for me.

-          Running with the community… Clare already shared that one!! What an eye opener… thankful we all survived. (“CLLLLLLARE!!!!!!!!”- me yelling her name into an open field and checking under trees.)Hopefully, there will be more chances...

I’m excited to see what’s next… I know I am ready for it! I’m ready for more of our Fall… even if it is a Texas Fall (green and warm enough to melt gummy bears in my car).

The Great (or not so great) "I"

The Great (or not so great) “I”

I’ve been drawn to St. Francis of Assisi as his feast day was this past Thursday, October 4.  I happen to work with a Franciscan man, though not part of the Franciscan religious congregation, who is familiar and has great love for their charism.  I asked him to tell me a story about Francis to share with my students.  He told me a story I’ve never heard.

The story goes something like this:  one day Francis was sitting in San Damiano, a chapel outside the city of Assisi, Italy when he heard Jesus on the crucifix begin to speak to him.  As you look deeper into the life of Francis you find that miraculous and peculiar things befell him (Stigmata, talking animals, etc.).  Jesus simply tells him to rebuild his house.  Francis wonders what this means so Francis decides to rebuild the old and decrepit Chapel of San Damiano.  He sets out to do this and do this he does.  Francis, shortly thereafter, however, understands Jesus’ words to mean something different.   He understands that God was referring to the Church, the people of God. 

Being the analytical person I am, and after hearing my colleague tell this story I began to ask myself these questions.  How am I rebuilding relationships?  Who are the lepers, unwanted and lowly in society that Francis was obsessed with helping, that I’m not paying attention to and that I’m called to help?  How is my life a reflection of Jesus’ life?  And so, this brief post is an attempt to apply this Franciscan wisdom to my life and yours.

Being a single man knocking on the door of 30 gives me unique insight as well as opportunity to curiously wonder and question.    Oftentimes, and to be frank, I wonder why am I still single?  I wonder why I live in community?  Is this just a waste of time?  Shouldn’t I be married with kids?  I mean shouldn’t my life be taking a different course or direction?  It is easy to become too focused on me!

I could (and believe me I have at times) become obsessed with these questions.  I mean shouldn’t we be thinking deeply and questioning where our lives are going?  The single life lends itself well to this facet of the human experience.  In our age of distractions and instant gratification it is easy to become obsessed with the great “I.”  It is common to want the answer yesterday.   One could argue that our culture does promote a strong sense of excessive individualism where what one feels or believes, for all purpose and intent, is god. 

With Francis, we find a strong counter-cultural example of what it means to care more about our neighbor than ourselves.   Francis reminds that by letting go of our distractions and desires we can see Jesus in our neighbor; we can see Jesus in the poor and marginalized.  He works for social change and has hope that God is present with him and in his every action (the famous line that I will paraphrase:  preach the Gospel at all times, when necessary use words).  He lives for the least in society and not for himself. 

Of course, it should be stated, not everyone is called to the radical way of life that Francis lived.  Yet, our call remains, in some considerable way, to work to rebuild and repair relationships amongst all in our society.  This is something the Sobremesa community is still wondering and praying about.  What is our role to establish right relationships between ourselves, our neighbors, and God?  We hope the Spirit will reveal answers soon.

Henri Nouwen, the great wisdom and contemplative figure of the 20^th Century, reminds us in his book Here and Now that “Hope frees us from the need to predict the future.  This allows us to live in the present.”  If this truth is true, which I believe it is, then my focus needs primarily to be in the here and now, the present.  Everything one needs will be supplied by living in the present.  So don’t worry too much about the future, eh?

I’ll leave you with the great prayer of St. Francis.  Perhaps it can give you, as it has for me countless times, great hope and faith to have the courage to live and love for our beloved neighbors.  Peace.

 Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love.

Where there is injury, pardon.

Where there is doubt, faith.

Where there is despair, hope.

Where there is darkness, light.

Where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,

grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console;

to be understood, as to understand;

to be loved, as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive.

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Amen.