follow faithfully... bear your gifts.

Advent is quickly coming to a close, and our preparation for a grand celebration of new life, new promise, transition, hope and great joy will come to culmination in just a matter of days. What a remarkable time to be living in a world of transition and change, to be focusing on God's presence and Christ alive and well among us. Advent is a time of great inner work - of taking (making) the time to be introspective and ready ourselves for miracles. It is a time of bearing gifts, as Mary did bringing Christ into this world, as the wise men did when they arrived to meet Jesus. It is a holy time, without a doubt.

The past week has been in itself, an undoubtedly holy time, overflowing with profound joy for me. Jhonny's arrival, celebrating 30 wonderful years of life with so many who are very important to me, preparing for a marriage that will, God-willing, bring a lifetime of adventure, joy, spirit, excitement, healthy challenge and deep love with a man I am blessed and lucky in whom to have found not only a life partner but a best friend, have all been unforgettable moments of grace. I am amazed at the countless individuals who have come bearing gifts for both Jhonny and myself - gifts of love, support, friendship, welcome and encouragement, that have humbled me in deep ways. I am continuously amazed at the movement of God's grace and the Spirit's guiding hand in my life here, in a city/place I now call home, which I have the honor and gift of sharing with Jhonny.  

In some ways, we can't appreciate the sweet to its fullest without some sour - but it is the combination of the two that creates for us a savory experience. Recently, I came to the conclusion that I need to remove myself from being actively a part of Sobremesa, at least at this time. It has been a long discernment process; being a member of Sobremesa has been full of teachable moments for me. It is sad ("sour") in some ways to be leaving the community, but I hope and trust that it makes the sweet all that much more so, for all involved.

Part of the reason for my departure lies in the new stage of my relationship with my fiance. Jhonny has been in the USA a week, and so far, I could not have asked for anything greater. It is amazing to have him here and to be graced with such a remarkable manifestation of love and God's presence active in my life. Indeed, we have and will face challenges, and this relationship needs and deserves my priority and attention. Our path has certainly been an unexpected and beautiful one, and is sure to continue to be full of ups and downs and moments of grace, as well as moments of hardship. I am blessed and lucky that God has brought us together - truthfully, I have our Lady of Guadalupe more to thank! She has been the catalyst and our intercessor through it all! I am excited to focus time, energy, and love on Jhonny and the family that we are becoming.

Simultaneously, there is more to my decision to step back from Sobremesa, which has to do with the struggles and  challenges of community, amidst the gift and goodness. I am leaving for a number of reasons -  in both my life journey and my faith journey I am in a very different place. There have been many trials for me in regards to community (difficulties for me personally to be a part of it, complications in my professional life, and the way I may be preventing the community of Sobremesa from living its mission), that at this point I really think that all needs to be acknowledged and respected. The only way I can see to do so is to remove myself from being a member of this community.

Community has been exhausting for me. I have avoided bringing to the table a very big part of myself and, therefore, have really not been able to engage fully in what a community should look like/be/give/produce. In some ways, this experience of community has really hindered me in many ways from experiencing God, which is not healthy. I need to own that, as much as I hate to admit it - the point of community is by no means to draw us further away from God, from seeing and reflecting the face of Christ, but I had let it get to that point for me. I let myself fall away from a focus on social justice through faith, from a focus on simplicity, from a focus on the importance of being. I greatly appreciate and value the challenge that came from community to not leave - my tendency in the past has always been to leave (cities, jobs - never a community, but certainly other aspects of life equally as vital). It's been very difficult to discern the unknown, as all are unsure about what the future holds. Sobremesa challenged me on my tendency to leave, which again I deeply appreciate - a challenge I believe can only come from one who has insight to and, in some key ways, knows my heart. However, I have not been able to find in this community the joy, nourishment, fulfillment and presence of God as I need it, nor an atmosphere in which I feel I can give it to others wholly. There's a part of me that wishes I had a crystal ball to know what the future holds, but alas, that is not life! And to stay in something for that which may or may not manifest in years to come is not only unfair to me, but incredibly unfair to the community of Sobremesa. To leave is not easy, and it doesn't feel "good," but it is right, I believe, at this point.

I have recently started volunteering at a very small, independent organization here in San Antonio, and it is wonderful. It is a transitional housing facility for immigrants without documentation. I go weekly to bring food and cook and eat with the residents there, and to reflect on Scripture and different topics of social justice. It is a true ministry of presence that grounds itself in quietly fighting injustice, and focusing on both serving and being served by the Latino immigrant population - a group of people who so tightly hold on to my heartstrings. I have been filled with joy and so nourished during these visits - I need to pay attention to that. I need to honor my need for a spirituality rooted in the Latino culture, in "comunidad base," as we call it - in social justice and faith alive and being a contemplative in action (oh, those Jesuit roots!). I have continued, in my prayer, to return to the need of being authentic. I need to acknowledge my own lack of authenticity within this particular Sobremesa context, and to be proactive about finding a place in which to live more authentically as the person God calls me to be, a place in which to bear my gifts, and a place where I can value and cherish the gifts of others.

I oftentimes during Advent/Christmas find myself relating most to the wise men who traveled to meet the Christ child. I don't say that in terms of my own possession of wisdom by any means!, but rather, I feel a connection to those who searched and wandered and looked and continuously tried to follow the North Star. The wise men arrived after Christ's birth - not being there on the 25th, but arriving more than a week later on the 6th (ok, ok, according to our modern interpretations/Church calendar... maybe not literally on those dates!). They took a long time, in their wandering and searching to finally find Christ. They tried to stay focused on the light, to follow faithfully (likely despite many roads and twists and turns), to stay committed to the call to bear their gifts. I often think of my own faith journey in a similar fashion... continuously trying to find Christ, trying to follow the North Star that will lead me to the ultimate miracle of love and hope, searching and wandering, trusting that the path I am following will lead me to more beauty than I could ever imagine, trusting that I will at some point arrive in a place where I can fully and unabashedly bear my gifts. I might not get there right on time, I might not make it there as soon as others do, but I trust in the journey, and continue to follow the Light.  

I am hopeful that, though not as members of Sobremesa, both Jhonny and I might continue to be in relationship with both individual members and the community as a whole, and continue to grow in relationship with one another. I am confident in the ability to similarly live a mission of radical hospitality, of being communicators of Grace, of being an example to others of a different way of living and being - even if Jhonny and I live it differently, in a unique context than Sobremesa. At the end of the day, all is good. And whether it is in a cold and poor manger, in context of an intentional community, at a small house on the west side of town speaking in foreign tongue, or wherever you might find yourself today... keep following faithfully, for we are all just looking for the best space to bear our gifts.

God is winking!

I had lunch today with an old friend, whom I haven't seen in quite some time. We have taken different paths over the past two years, but through "wink of God" events, as she would say, we have landed again here together, reconnected, and - hopefully - find ourselves rekindling a friendship that has in the past offered much life, much understanding, much joy, healthy accompaniment and great grace. I am grateful for the mysterious ways in which God works, for the stirrings of the Holy Spirit in unexpected manners, and for the presence of the Blessed Mother, being sure her children are cared for and have the opportunity to find comfort and genuine companionship in one another.

It is perhaps providential that as we caught up on the past almost two years, we spoke much of the continued transitions in life - we filled each other in on life events (mostly the big, and some of the small), and it seemed that falling back into deep conversation was easy and fairly effortless. There are some friendships, some people, who just "get it" - the "it" being any number of things - in this case, for me, I cherish those people in my life for whom the "it" includes so much... the soul and heart's journey (in all its hardship and glory), the challenge and privilege to attempt each day to live a life of justice through faith; health and wellness, the search for inclusion in a world of many silos, working for peace, living and working for the common good, the crossing of cultural, linguistic, religious, racial and socioeconomic barriers; the gift and challenge of seeing beauty, of following one's heart when it might not lead down the most common road, the constant search for a community that is life-giving and energizing (not to be confused with easy or always enjoyable). These transitions that we shared with one another were fitting, and as we experienced the start of yet another presumable transition in our friendship again today, I couldn't help but feel at peace at the parallel: as we in our liturgical year enter into a time of transition this Sunday, trying to prepare ourselves for the celebration of the birth of Christ - the incarnation of God on earth, the changes all around me seem to be graced with a sense of "this feels right."

Ultimately, what we shared today, breaking bread and asking for God's presence within and among us, was an exchange of love. A love that is real, that is tangible, that is incarnate; a love that strives to live up to the example of Mary - carrying the Christ child within her for nine months, through (what we can imagine must have been) difficulty and anguish along the journey (how many times could there have been no room at any inn?!), perhaps through frustration, misunderstanding and/or bafflement at how she could have been asked to consume this role; a love that moves gracefully through transition, through times of doubt, uncertainty and questioning; a love that trusts unconditionally that God is indeed good, and therefore if we are truly following God's call, having discerned and prayed, reflected and trusted, having surrendered ourselves to only needing God's love and grace for survival, then we cannot be on the wrong path.

When these "wink of God" moments occur... those moments when you know full well that whatever is taking place cannot possibly be of anything other than the Divine (for no human could arrange or maneuver for events to happen as they are, in these cases), we must wholeheartedly embrace Mary's "yes." Perhaps we are at times overwhelmed, or our human side is screaming of uncertainty, but even then - even if in only a barely audible whisper - we must say "yes," and trust that there is something far beyond our comprehension that God is in the works of creating. I don't know, but I would like to think that the time before Gabriel appeared, and the time leading up to Jesus' birth, and the time before Christ's death on the cross... I like to think that in that journey, Mary must have experienced some winks of God. There must have been something telling her that this was right... despite her questioning and uncertainty, things must have somehow "fallen into place" - there must have been some "signs" - however you want to name them, God must have been sending some winks her way, encouraging her despite her doubt, perhaps despite her discomfort, despite the wonder and lack of foreseeable future. God somehow communicated that, while not easy, she was on the right track, and it was all leading to Love.

Dorothy Day, who left our world 22 years ago yesterday, and is considered to be one of the greatest modern-day prophets (and a remarkable woman whom I personally think was absolutely brilliant) gave us the following: “True love is delicate and kind, full of gentle perception and understanding, full of beauty and grace, full of joy unutterable. There should be some flavor of this in all our love for others... With such a love one would see all things new; we would begin to see people as they really are, as God sees them.”

I think this true love is really what we are preparing to embrace again this Christmas. As we begin this Sunday with the first of Advent, let us pay attention to the winks of God in our lives - the small (or maybe at times not so small) moments of grace when we know we are on the right track, joining with those who "get it," moving towards Love. And as we ready ourselves for that transition - to experience Love anew, to see things new and see people as they really are, with the eyes of God - may we be filled with gratitude for Mary's "yes," joy for the moments of Grace/winks of God in our lives, and hope for the incarnation.

I feel HOME

I feel HOME

“I feel home, when I see the faces that remember their own. I feel home, when I’m chillin outside with the people I know. I feel home, and that’s just what I feel. Home to me is reality and all I need is something real.” –O.A.R.

What’s home to you?

I sent a text today to a dear friend in Maryland, asking her how her Thanksgiving was. She replied that it was good and she was glad to be home. Home is where you can let go and be yourself. Home is where you feel comfortable.

 Being away from my family and my community this Thanksgiving made me think a lot about HOME… and what home has become for me. I have been away from my family before for Thanksgiving, but this year was a little different. It was probably the smallest Thanksgiving meal I’ve had, but it was filled with laughter, food, dancing, silliness, prayer, and love. It made me miss people that I could be sharing my Thanksgiving meal with. The friends and family that love and have loved me in various ways: my Family in Maryland and Pennsylvania, my Friends in Maryland, my Community, friends and family who have passed away, and the friends whom I have had to “prune” or cut out of my life, were all missed.

I’m thinking that it may not be limited to just the house I grew up in. My home is found in the people that love me and support me and accept me for who I am and who I want to be. That opens up my home from just Black Spruce Lane to Newfoundland, Florida, Pennsylvania, California, New York, Hawaii, Texas, Colorado, and the list goes on.

It’s not always a warm and fuzzy place… it’s just like a real home. There are hard things and people mess up. Mumford and Sons has a song called Lover of the Light “watch me stumble over and over, I have done wrong, so build your tower but call me home and I will build you a throne.” I have found amazing people who accept me, and forgive me, and help me grow. I’m growing into this person I didn’t even know I wanted to be.

I am blessed to have found a home in Sobremesa. My community here in San Antonio has become a place where I can attempt to let myself grow, be my true self… working towards the person God wants me to be. Being home in Sobremesa is hard work. It takes all three of us to be vulnerable, to let each other into the good and bad parts of ourselves. To let each other see our weaknesses, challenge us and accept us. All of these things take a lot of work. Just like a family… it is a never ending job… thankfully, all of the work is totally worth it.

Own That: Faith, Hope, and Love and an Experience of God

On Thursday afternoon I boarded a bus with a bunch of “rowdy” juniors.  I didn’t know what to expect as I never usually know what to expect on these retreats.  On this particular retreat, I was a given an auxiliary support role.  This is different than the usual front and center role I have, which I and my ego do enjoy.  My task was to stay up beyond the “lights out” command that was given at 11:30pm.  As I was walking around at 1:00am in the cold dark shadows near Medina, Texas, I wondered, what the hell was I doing out here in the cold of morning.  Almost 30 years old and making sure that kids were not sneaking out of their cabins!  Why wasn’t I given a more prominent role in this retreat?  Those kids need to hear what I have to say!

24 hours later, thanks be to God, my whole disposition changed.  It was good and humbling to sit, observe, and reflect on why I’m continuing to be an educator.  It was reaffirming to say “yes” once again to serving the people of God in this way.  It was good to hear how life has impacted the faith journeys of the students and my colleagues.  It was beautiful to see how God was manifesting in the interactions our students were having.  What was most amazing was the fact that, with grace, we can grow and change.

Our school has this oft abused yet beautiful notion of “brotherhood.”    This notion is fundamentally referring to our ability to see God in the world and its creation.  This notion is on a basic level accepting love but also learning how to love.  The ultimate notion of this high ideal is for our students to leave our institution not afraid to own their faith in a culture that is less and less accepting of faith.  Not afraid to transform the world for good. 

The dark side of this “brotherhood” shows itself when our students “help” out a fellow “brother” on tests/quizzes/homework or bully/tease each other.  These misguided actions are used to justify the “brotherhood.”  Much of my work as an educator is attempting correct these errors because so many of our students have become “numb” to these behaviors.  Indeed these mistakes run rampant in our school and I have to, frequently, remind our guys that there is a line of behavior that isn’t good.  We must challenge ourselves to be better than our worst destructive behaviors.

The final night of the retreat adults and students alike sat around a campfire and shared about the ups and downs of life.  One colleague posed the question about the future of our school.  Will it be around in the next fifty years?  How about one-hundred years?  Will families find it too expensive to send their children to Catholic Schools?  What’s the purpose of Catholic schools if faith can be transmitted and taught at the parish?  These are but a few great questions that caught my attention as well as the attention of the students.

My colleague then issued a challenge that struck at the core of our beloved “brotherhood.”  He stated that this is merely a word and God is more than the “brotherhood” we’ve created.  Our true challenge, he concluded, was to learn to see God and to learn how to be loved by this God, but also to learn love to world.  It seemed as though stillness and silence were the only things able to be heard as we all gazed at the cosmos above us and considered the challenge issued moments before.

My colleague challenged all of us that cold night.  He challenged us to own our faith and to trust in the work of our best friend, the Holy Spirit.  As we enter into this time of Thanksgiving, I give thanks.  I give thanks for all you who are reading this!   I want to thank my community for blessing all my involvements and time spent away from our home!  I thank my family for supporting me all these years.  I would be remiss if I didn’t give thanks for my beloved, CCHS.  This school has trusted me to do things that I’ve only dreamed of.  The list goes on…

What are you thankful for?  I should, at the essence of my being, be most thankful for my relationship with God.  This sustains and nourishes me and I hope it does the same for you.  Experiences like the junior retreat remind me of the task I have to construct the kingdom of God.  I will own that!  Thankfully this task isn’t only mine but yours as well.  Let us work together!

A great jazz song (Esperanza Spaulding) about hope:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LoL_LuWIg8M

Wisdom in the Waiting

When I was younger, I remember listening to many "grown ups" who were married say, "you just know" whenever they were asked how they knew that the person they were going to marry was the right one. I remember thinking "Yeah right, what a crock!" when I heard this - that it was a total blow off answer and they were full of it.

Now that I am a "grown up" (it's true, I am a grown up - even if sometimes I doubt my own capability to handle the world and all its curve balls and momentarily think it would be a lot easier to revert to my late teens! - I am indeed an adult), and now that I am on the journey to marriage, I realize that there is some truth in that statement. I don't believe there is only one person in the world out there for each of us, but I do believe that God has a great hand in bringing the paths of two people together, who are good for each other - who challenge and support and love and make one another better. And while I firmly believe that Love chooses us, and from there we must continue daily to choose Love back in a reciprocal and mutual manner, I must admit that I do remember the day in March of 2011 when I "just knew." Though there are multiple moments when my path could have taken a different route, when I could have made different choices and perhaps I would have ended up giving my heart to someone else, or when I could have made the decision to pursue a commitment to single life, or any number of other ways my life could have twisted and turned, the course of events over the past almost 30 years have led me here, and led me to Jhonny, and in March 2011, I realized that we would have the gift of continuing to grow our lives, our faith, and our love together indefinitely - I "just knew." It no longer sounds so bogus.

Lately, I have found myself wondering if the same might be true for community. Is there a moment when you "just know" if this is the right place, time, group of people for you? Or perhaps at this point in the (our/my) journey, is there a point when I would "just know" if this is not the right time/space/group of people for me in which to continue growing spiritually, emotionally, intellectually, etc.?

The discernment to commit to the Sobremesa community was a long and at times very arduous process. And there were many moments where I came very close to saying "this just isn't for me, not now, maybe not ever, this isn't right." But something kept me here, kept me in it, kept me from stepping away. My modus operandi for many years has always been to leave. If I didn't like a job, I quit it and found a new one. If I didn't like my living situation, I left it and made a change. if I was bored with whatever program I was running, I passed it off and found something new to do. I don't fear change, and have for a long time thrived in picking up and moving on - being able to fit everything I own in a small Honda Civic and go where I pleased, not looking back much at all. Sobremesa has challenged me to stay - Louie has challenged me in those exact words on multiple occasions - to stay at the table. While in some moments I hate him for that, in some moments I am glad for that, and in all moments I am thankful for the challenge he has offered me in this, I still don't know what is right. There have been times over the past few months when I had thought (and at times continue to think) that this particular situation isn't right. Then there are moments when I think, despite the hardship of community, this is right, and here my spirit is fed. I waiver often, I doubt an awful lot, I question constantly, I discern consistently, I think (some would say over-analyze) far too much, and I (*try to) pray abundantly. My westernized, first world, attention deficit generation, instant gratification seeking, impatient, entitled nature wants to know - should I stay? Should I go? What is God calling me to and why can't I hear God's voice more clearly? When will this all make sense? When will it become illuminated with clarity and direction? When will I "just know?"

And yet, my missionary heart, my third-world focused perspective, my attempt at being trusting and faith-filled, and my experiences with community life in the past tell me I must be patient, I must let the Holy Spirit be about her work, I must gather strength from the presence of Mary and Christ around me, I must hold steadfast and true to the call to community despite the discomfort, despite the hardship, despite the unsettled-ness (or "ogeda" if you will), despite the disappointment. That there may come a point when things align and my vulnerability and brokenness allows me to hear God more clearly; there also may never come a time when I will be in tune enough with God to "just know," and I need to either figure out how to listen to God better or make some decisions and live with the consequences. While I am hopeful this will not be the case, and I am hopeful that at some point I will "just know," I also am aware that this is not what I should be praying for - instead of praying to "just know," I need to be praying for openness and discernment of spirits, for greater understanding of one another in community, for all of us to come to the table with a renewed (or new) maturity of life and faith, for the ability to treat others with greater gentleness and compassion and acceptance, while still offering a place of accountability, and not allowing myself or others to become apathetic towards the realities in this great, big world (many of which are signficant injustices that I have witnessed through the lives of those who have served me far more than I have served them in places all around the globe).   

A dear, old, wonderful friend of mine once told me that "there is wisdom in the waiting." She was incredibly thoughtful in this comment, and in such a few words offered such magnificent advice - these words have stuck with me now for years, and I have often used it as a sort of centering prayer in my more agitated, human and raw moments. As I find myself now often conflicted, frustrated and anxious, waiting for the last stage of the visa process to be complete, waiting to be with Jhonny and start a new chapter of our lives together, as I wait to understand more fully my role in community - what it is, how it is, how to do it better; as I wait to see where the discernment will lead Sobremesa (both in context of how the three of us are and how the community might/will be changing over upcoming weeks and months), as I wait for a moment when I hope to "just know," as I wait for my tensions and frustrations to calm themselves and try to wait for others to attempt to see things from a new perspective, as I wait to be enveloped with patience and try to look through the eyes of those whose experiences and life history are so drastically different from my own, as I wait, I wait, I wait... I pray for the grace to surrender myself to the wisdom in the waiting.

       

Choices

Choices

Every day we are surrounded by choices. We have choices to make at home, in our work place, in social circles, etc.

As a speech pathologist, choices are something we often work on. It allows that student some ownership and freedom . In our community, I am challenged daily with different choices impacting the community. I struggle most with knowing what choice will be most supportive or least destructive to our flow as Sobremesa. If I choose to work late, see a friend, go on a date… then I ultimately take myself away from Sobremesa. I miss out on my favorite times with my community mates… sharing our daily struggles and stories. If I choose to fold Louie’s laundry, call Clare, make dinner, workout together, or have a beer/glass of wine with Clare and Louie then I am showing them they matter to me and I care about them. In the same way their choices show me time and time again that they care about me. A simple text or email asking about my day after a hard week, a gift on the table for All Saints Day, a smile or hug, or time spent chatting on the couch… their daily choices show me their support for who I am as a person.

As a co-worker stared at a catalog the other day, she described a study she once heard about. People were broken down into different groups, each group given differing numbers of “solutions” to “problems”. The group with the fewest choices slept the best and was, in turn, the happiest. The group with more choices felt unrest, slept less, and rated themselves less happy. My co-worker was staring at the 4^th page of glue sticks you could choose from, saying maybe this is why the United States is in the state that it is…. Too many choices.

With all of the choices we I have access to… I want to challenge myself to be more aware of the impact my choices make on others. The positive and negative affect my choices have on my friends, co-workers, students, and especially my community. I want to be more aware… more present… and show them that they are a priority to me.

A phrase that is often shared here at Sobremesa is “Choice determines situation.”

From Radical Hospitality- “We are created by our choices, and we create the world by those choices.”

Mary Anne Admacher- “We define each moment by what we choose to care about.”

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.

Back to the Basics

Have you ever known that God was trying to communicate something to you, but you try to brush it off, telling yourself that you're just over-analyzing or misinterpreting (probably because it's something that, deep down, you know you need to hear and heed, but it's going to require effort and work and dedication, and you just really don't feel like committing all that right now)? But God doesn't let up, and keeps placing you in circumstances that come back to that same lesson again and again? No matter how much you try to ignore that nagging lesson or reminder or challenge (whatever word you need to use that makes you feel slightly better about it), day after day, it is staring you in the face?

This past week has been that for me - a message from God staring me in the face over and over, showing up in a multitude of ways, in various aspects of my life, until I finally gave in (or at least, recognize that I need to try to give in). I should have responded to the big flashing sign message on the first shot - probably could've saved myself some frustration. But if you know me, one thing you probably became aware of after the first few days (ok, maybe minutes) of being in my presence is that I am stubborn. I blame it on my German side.

It started last weekend. It was just Louie and me at home, with no big events on the calendar, so we had a pretty quiet, low-key weekend. I came down with a pretty bad cold, so I think I slept more in two days than I have for the past two months (I am only slightly exaggerating). That was probably the first sign I ignored - my body (and God, if you will) telling me to slow down, to rest, to ease up on the gas a bit. While I did sleep, it wasn't because I was desiring to rest, but rather more trying to get better as quickly as possible so I could get back to the unbelievably long to-do list I possess that never seems to see any black lines through its content. Hind sight is always 20/20. I should have paid more attention to the need to care for my body, rest and sleep well before the sneezing, coughing and extreme exhaustion began.

Last weekend was also the start of a new physical challenge. Louie and I started to do Crossfit. We took our first three fundamentals classes last week, which are a pre-req of sorts before you can take a full-fledged class. Our first three classes, spaced throughout the week, while informative and interesting, were elementary - learning to do dead lifts and hang cleans, precise positioning for an overhead squat, basic stretches and plyometrics. More than a few times, I think we both felt this slight annoyance - we've both exercised before, Louie has done Crossfit before, I have fitness certifications - why did we need to go through all of this? Why can't we just jump into the sweat, blood and tears (literally... have you ever tried Crossfit?!) And more so, how is it that no matter what exercise we were focused on or what position we were trying to hold, neither of our forms was ever one-hundred percent correct? It was nearly 4 hours total of the basics - from where to place your feet to the position of your head and everything in between. At moments it felt redundant. At moments it felt unnecessary. At moments it was aggravating and frustrating - the trainer we worked with was so intent on explaining the movements, the connections between your nervous system and muscle movements, these biological and anatomical building blocks of Crossfit. Bottom line? It was totally necessary. Without having those basics down, we would be ill-prepared for the next level; we would lift weights incorrectly and come no where near the desired results - if anything, perhaps even doing harm and damage to our bodies. This forced return to the most fundamental of movements was one hundred per cent necessary, and in all honesty, we probably could have even used more than three sessions.    

Brother Mike came over for dinner on Monday, and in addition to some good food and conversation at the table, we shared prayer. He asked us to share the story of where our faith came from - for each of us, how did we get our faith? It was an opportunity to think about and reflect on the roots of our lives - where did we start, what were those big mile markers, and essentially where did this all start from? What were our fundamentals of faith?

Two nights ago, we decided to go on a "community run." (We've never done this before... and truthfully, I'm not sure where this initiative came from.) We went to a trail by our house, which Jen and I had never been to before, and dusk was about to fall as we all stretched a bit and then took off down the trail, into the woods. Now, if you are reading this and you have met me, beyond the whole stubborn piece, you also know that I have, unequivocally, unparalleled, the absolutely worst sense of direction. This probably wasn't the brightest move I could have ever made (because of course, I carried no phone with me. Obviously.).

I'm sure you can guess what happened. I got lost. I'm still not really sure how, but after about 18 minutes of running... as I should have been coming to the end of my 2.2 mile run, I was still running - my 2.2 mile run turned into a 4+ mile run, and I made it to our driveway, where I sat and (in additional to feeling badly that I knew Louie and Jen would be worried) waited for someone to come check if I had managed to make it home. Our neighbors were outside - doing nothing but hanging out, their little girl trying to fly a cardboard airplane while jumping around in the bed of their pickup. My thoughts wandered back to my time in Ecuador... when I constantly had to ask for directions (thereby engaging in relationship with strangers), when I never had a clue where I was going, where I didn't own a cell phone (or a land line phone, or a television, or a computer), where I spent countless hours on stoops, doing nothing but hanging out; where life was unbelievably simple in most material ways and unbelievably complex in most emotional and spiritual ways, offering constant glimpses of God's grace and beauty amidst a sometimes (oftentimes) very unjust and ugly world.
In addition to it being an unplanned community night at its finest, this experience was also, for me, an invitation to remember why I first came to love life in community and believe in it's power in the first place: God-centered relationships that focus on intentionality, the journey of faith and simplicity - learning, living, breathing, being in this profound understanding of how we affect, influence and impact one another through shared space, prayer, struggle, joy, and daily life. A chance to recall and bring to mind those very bare-bone, basic reasons why I believe in community, and community rooted in faith.

So this week has been a constant calling to return back to the basics (on all accounts): to rest and slow down and care for your body and health; to work on fundamental, functional motions from which all other movement happens; to return, once in a while, to those first steps of our faith journey and take a glance back to where we were and how we got to where we are; to engage in relationship with people I don't necessarily know, to disconnect from the demands of technology and constant contact and texting and talking, to fly some paper airplanes and sit on the stoop and do nothing but hang out; to believe in human interconnectedness and the value of journeying with others; to believe in the power of community.

How is God growing you today?

Living in community doesn’t let you hide much. For me, one of the challenges that I fear holds me back at times is my lack of confidence. I am working on it, but this is not an easy fix. And it’s out there for my community mates to see, to be frustrated with, and to support me in.

If you could measure the amount of community experience one has and compare among the Sobremesa community, I would have the least. My experiences have been less intentional, less formal, and less intense in my opinion and more organic. Both Clare and Louie have lived in community before in multiple communities. And they have both been educated at Marianist institutions. Although I have been a part of a community (from sports teams to grad school cohorts) most of my life, they have missed the FAITH piece. I think that is what makes this community experience for me so different.

5 years ago I had an opportunity to take a group of students from St. Joseph’s Catholic Community to Marianist LIFE Pacific. This was my first taste of the Marianist Charism in a very intentional way. I do believe our parish was run “indirectly” Marianist, but the gifts of the Charism were never really talked about… just lived. Marianist LIFE was the first time I was introduced to a group of adults that were like me. They accepted me where I was on my faith journey and walked with me. From that first time as an adult moderator, I couldn’t get enough of this Marianist thing. Any opportunity that was presented to me, I said yes! I was invited to Mid-LIFE and meet more people from the three LIFE programs in St. Louis. I was invited to be a part of the Marianist Lay Formation Initiative retreat forming another community across the country. I even had some time in an online community sharing emails, prayers, skype phone calls and readings with one another. Each one of the relationships I have formed and communities I have been a part of has made a difference in my life (and my faith life). HOWEVER,  when I was scared or nervous about sharing something or leading a prayer… I could find someone that could take over because there were so many people in each community. In a community of 3, it’s harder to do that. It’s almost impossible. I can’t hide any longer… I have to step up.

Enter prayer. The funny thing about this one is that I spent 2 years in the Office of Religious Life for the Marianist LIFE pacific team. I planned liturgies and prayer experiences for the adults and for the students. BUT THERE WAS AT LEAST 2 PEOPLE in the office. There was always someone to bounce ideas of off, to ask questions of, to share fears with. Now, it is just me preparing a prayer experience for my community. I get very very nervous. My stomach hurts the whole day, I have tingles in my arms… and I don’t know why. Not once has Louie or Clare laughed at me or made fun of me or (worst of all) not prayed with me. I don’t know where this nervousness comes from.

I also talk about these fears a lot… hoping they will then disappear. I have shared them with Louie and Clare as well as our friend Baade. There is one thing (in this situation) that Baade says to me that always makes me feel better. Makes me feel like I am where I am supposed to be. It makes me feel that the challenge of preparing prayer for my community is worth the nervousness. She shares about a friend she has whom she doesn’t see often. When Baade sees her friend, she asks her, “How is God growing you today?” Baade listens to my fears and nervousness and tells me God’s growing me.

I have to agree. God is growing me in this Sobremesa community. I am growing in my own prayer life, and in my confidence. It isn’t a passive thing and it isn’t finished (and will never be… if I choose that). It’s going to take A LOT of time and patience and support and prayer. And I am ready for it. How is God growing YOU today?

A Life Where Everything Matters

Today marks the three week anniversary of the public commitment and official formation of the Sobremesa community.  To be sure, they have been weeks of joy filled with community dinners and visits from old friends, and some new ones too.  A special thanks goes to Bro. Mitch Schweickart and Patrick Duffy for visiting our community.  They came to the table and laughed with us while also reminding us of the importance of remaining true to our mission.  

There are, of course, the random times where the three of us happen to find ourselves chatting about the highs and lows of our days; I’m thankful for these grace times.  I’d be remiss without mentioning our communal prayer times.  It is in these times that I find, most apparent, the visible and transparent richness of the Spirit shining forth.  It is often in the simple things that Jen or Clare share (or even do) that I glean some wisdom and hope.  I see hope when I come home to a table set and dinner prepared.  I see hope and wisdom when either of my community-mates take time to fold my clothes (clothes that I left in the dryer for way too long) and neatly place them on my bed.  These acts of love give me hope and teach me the wisdom of being open to those closest around me.  This wisdom and hope sustains and enriches my Spirit and prompts me to dig deeper in my personal prayer life.  There seems to be openness to the Spirit, on the part of our community, that is authentically demonstrated as we continue to share life together.  Indeed community is a great gift where all that we do or don’t do matters.

Community isn’t always, however, thought provoking, enjoyable, fun, or “warm and fuzzy.”  Community can be (and mostly is day-to-day) a task, still yet, where everything one does or doesn’t do matters.

There have, without a doubt, been times of struggle and frustration.  Questions I pose from time-to-time go as follows:  why won’t they just put the dishes away after dinner? ; why do I have to fold the laundry of someone else? ; why won’t anybody help me trim these hedges? ; or why doesn't anybody notice when I vacuum the carpets? 

I’m sure my community-mates have asked similar questions of me and of the community in general.  Why didn’t he help me when I needed help?  Why was he such a jerk in the way he responded to my request?  Why didn’t he reply to that email I sent him three days ago?  Or, why did I decide to live in this community anyway?    When the community shares their frustrations with me I ask myself, was I too concerned with getting my own stuff done?  Was I too focused on finishing the grading that I was blinded to what Clare or Jen needed? Am I too busy at school?  Am I not ready to be open to the needs of those that are closest to me?  Am I not ready to see how God is right in front me at that (even this) very moment?

Community calls us to remember that every action we take, or don’t take, has implications or ramifications.  If I chose to close the door to my room and work by myself then I might as well close myself off from the community.  I believe that deeply understanding this reality, where everything matters, starts close to home, within our own (spiritual) life.  Fr. Chaminade reminds us (hopefully without sounding too cliché) that “the essential is the interior.” 

We can therefore begin to analyze and hope that we are open to allowing God to be the fuel of our lives, especially our lives of prayer. This is difficult to measure and critique.  This measuring and critiquing becomes dangerous if we begin to see our prayer lives as something we have to spend “x” amount of time per week or day engaged in.  At its best, this critiquing and analyzing will enable us to see if we do indeed value, as well as move to the top of the priority list, the spiritual life.  Fr. Richard Rohr, a Franciscan priest, reminds us that (and I’m paraphrasing here) prayer is always happening we need only to show up and be with God.  Am I asking for the grace to be open to how the Lord is moving and shaking in my life?  

If I begin with the premise:  God is living and existing within me then I don’t have to go very far.  I can see God by engaging in intentional introspective time.  It matters immensely whether or not we take this time (even if we don’t live in an intentional community) because living in this reality will shape what we say or don’t say, do or don’t do, and last and certainly not least, how we love or not love.  Fr. Chaminade wisely reminds us that “it is in prayer that you will find peace for your soul.”  Is prayer valuable to me?  Is prayer valuable to you?  If yes, then we can love—starting with the God that lives in us—ourselves and also learn to love our neighbor, our community, and hopefully the world. 

So, you see, it matters.  Everything we do or don’t do matters.  If we don’t value our prayer lives then we are drifting alone and feel separate from God, others, and the world.  If we can ask for the grace while also doing some hard personal interior work, then we will continue to grow closer and deeper to God, others, and the world.  A wise Jedi (yes this is a Star Wars reference) once said, “do or do not, there is no try.”  I encourage and challenge us to work at seeing and knowing the God that lives in each of us.  Stop trying and begin doing while always remembering, humbly of course, that everything matters.  Peace be with you, always.

Welcome to the story of Sobremesa!

Hello!

Thank you so much for taking the time to access our blog, and join us on this journey upon which we have recently embarked.

You might be wondering what "Sobremesa" is, or what "intentional community" is, or maybe you haven't ever heard the word "Marianist" before. Throughout our entries on this blog, we will attempt to explain - or probably more accurately, share our own exploration of - what these terms mean (and in some cases, maybe what they don't mean). Sometimes we might have a clue, maybe even an answer... other days, we're likely to be just as, if not much more, confused than you are about the whole thing.

But first, a little background:
Who are we? Well, we are three young adults (some of us will still hold on to claiming our last few precious days of "late twenties" just a short while longer) who are trying to figure out what it means to be in community with each other, and what it means to try to create intentional Christian community (with a specific Marianist spirit) in our often very individualistic, often very secular, often very chaotic, difficult, and unjust society. Our world is all of those aforementioned adjectives, ripe with struggle and pain - but it is also beautiful, grace-filled, and joyful, in some of our better moments.

Over the course of the many blog entries to come, you will get to know each of us, and - if you accept the invitation - gain some insight into the stirrings of our minds and hearts. You'll probably, by default of us living in a big city with a small town feel, also get to know the names of a few key players, "friends of the community," who have had and will continue to have great influence and impact on how we shape our home, our shared life, and the manifestation of our mission.

To give you a brief snapshot of who these three people are, living what many consider to be a quite counter-cultural way of life, we'll let you in on a few very short biographical pieces that have led us here today.

First: Jen, aka Broph, Brophessor, and on occassion Brophinator, grew up in the St. Joseph Catholic Community of Eldersburg, Maryland.  Not knowing what all it meant that the parish was Marianist, the Pastor asked Jen to take students to Marianist LIFE Pacific. (LIFE = Living In Faith Experience - an opportunity for high school students from around the country to come together with others to learn more about their faith, discover what it means to have a relationship with God, understand more about social justice and the world, and gain some key insight into being with others, all from a Marianist lens.)  Jen has not stopped discovering her Marianist identity since this important introduction in 2007.  Her reason for being a founding and committed member of the Sobremesa Community is simply her desire to live and learn more about what it means to Marianist as well as her faith in general.

We've got Luis, often called Louie, Luisito, or "El Guapo," as he oh-so-modestly most prefers, recalls his first introduction to this whole "Marianist thing" dating back to LIFE South 2000 (LIFE happens in three different locations around the country, hence the Pacific and South distinctions between Jen and Louie's stories).  LIFE planted a seed, unbeknownst, that has bloomed in a plethora of varied ways.  Luis “has been around” the Marianist world working at various Marianist High Schools, attending various Marianist Universities, and even spending some time discerning his life vocation with the Marianists.  What led him to be a founding a committed member of the Sobremesa community is a belief that the Marianist Laity must take a more conscious and active leadership role in working for justice and peace.

Then there's Clare - loved ones often call her Clara, Clarita, and a select few Strockbine de Acosta, as per her current engagement; her future last name will be Acosta, thanks to a wonderful man from the Dominican Republic who is a huge source of support, light and love in her life. For Clare, living in community has become somewhat of a lifestyle.  After attending the University of Scranton, Clare volunteered in Ecuador with Rostro de Cristo (Face of Christ) from 2004-2006.  This experience of the Latin American culture coupled with her Jesuit and Marianist (University of Dayton , 2009) backgrounds have given her the inspiration to be a founding and committed member of the Sobremesa Community.

The community was physically formed in August of 2011 when Clare and Luis began living together in community.  After much mutual discernment, Jen moved into the house in February 2012. Discernment continued as the three tried to remain open to the grace of the Holy Spirit and the call of Chaminade; in July, in an attempt to follow Mary’s “yes,” things became formalized. In addition to writing a mission statement and a covenant, the community picked the name Sobremesa: “Sobremesa” is a Spanish word with no known direct English translation. In Latin America, it refers to the time spent around the table after a meal - before the dishes are cleared, before companions disperse - the time when loved ones share in conversation, with no hurry and no worry about what comes next. It is social, relaxing yet energizing, it is communal. The sobremesa is sacred time. 

 

Over time you'll get to know more about what we do on a daily basis (in our spare time when we're not struggling with the whole how-to-live-the-Gospel-in-some-sort-of-way-somewhat-resembling-what-Jesus-did thing.. we actually do all have jobs, as much as we might like to sit around theorizing and reflecting upon community), how we spend our free time (though, in total transparency, we're three pretty busy people, so free time doesn't come all too frequently around these parts - but as Jen will often remind us, choice [oftentimes] determines situation. We can't complain all that much.), what kind of faith we have both as individuals and as a group, how well we get along (and how well we sometimes don't get along), and in general, just how goofy (and clueless) we can be. Hopefully we'll also be able to bring to the table a few fleeting words of wisdom too, and maybe plant a few seeds for thought and reflection out there in the big virtual world of interactive reflection (blogging).

We'll leave you today on this last note, that of our mission statement, which took us quite some time (and some annoyance, grammar arguments and a beer or two) to finally nail down. Worth it though - we're pretty satisfied, for now, with what we commit to trying to live, day in and day out.

The Sobremesa mission statement reads as follows:  

We give of ourselves wholly to the pursuit of education, ministry, and challenge of ourselves and others, rooted in a faith that lives justice.  Through our work, personal choices, shared daily life and continued discernment, with Mary as our model we strive to offer a radical hospitality. We aim to serve those most in need, witness to and inspire in others an openness to God’s will, and communicate Grace.

Thanks for reading!