Family: The Center of Vocation

On Wednesday evening, I was formally accepted by Bishop Bambera as a candidate for the reception of Holy Orders for the Diocese of Scranton. I am experiencing the Spirit's gift of peace as I publicly commit myself to prepare for ordained service in the local Church of Scranton.

This rite was celebrated during Evening Prayer in the beautiful Cathedral of Saint Peter in downtown Scranton. This celebration of Evening Prayer and the Rite of Admission to Candidacy for Holy Orders occurred within the context of our annual Project Andrew Dinner, a time when young men from throughout the diocese who are discerning the possibility of priestly service gather together for prayer, fellowship, and a meal.

Rite of Admission to Candidacy for Holy Orders

My entire immediate family (mom, dad, siblings, and their spouses and significant others) were in attendance, as were various priests, deacons, seminarians, and young men from throughout the Diocese of Scranton.

Earlier that day, I had been preparing for this ritualized moment by spending some time in prayer. I happened to be reading an excerpt from a speech given by Pope Francis in 2015. In this talk, the pope speaks about priests and seminarians as those who are "born into a certain human context." These ecclesial ministers are not "mushrooms" that automatically spring up on the day of their ordination. Rather, as Francis reminds us, each priest and seminarian comes from a "fundamental center of pastoral vocation, which is the family."

Pope Francis

The family is the first center of human formation. It is within this "domestic Church" that "the desire for a life conceived as a vocational path can burgeon in young people, to be followed with commitment and generosity." Within the confines of the family, we first learn selfless love!

Pope Francis certainly captured my own experience and vocational journey! In my family, I learned the ways of love and acceptance, as well as the realities of sin, mercy, and forgiveness. From my parents, grandparents, siblings, and so many others, I learned what it meant to love unconditionally, to forgive from the heart, to embrace simplicity of lifestyle, to lovingly obey another, and to enjoy the beauty of life! In our home, I learned the fundamentals of my faith. We prayed. We thanked God. We went to Mass. We struggled. We fought. We forgave. We were not perfect, but God was still present!

And so, on Wednesday night and in these most recent days following, I have found myself experiencing great gratitude for the gift of my family - the domestic Church - where I first learned what it meant to be generous, forgiving, and prayerful. This shaped my own self-understanding and how I continue to respond to God's call to serve.

My family with Bishop Joseph Bambera on Wednesday evening

My prayer is that I never forget my roots and the very concrete, real center of my human formation. I hope that I continue to move forward toward ordained ministry in the Church as one who is selfless, open, merciful, and grateful. As Bishop Bambera said so beautifully on Wednesday evening: "Ryan, your openness to the Lord's call to serve the Church also demands a continual letting go of your own ego, needs, interests, and control in order to imitate Jesus - who washed the feet of his friends in humble service of their needs and then commands all who hear his words, 'As I have done, so you must do.'"

Indeed, this is a lesson I first learned from my family.

The Dangerous Reality of Christmas

A blessed and joyous Christmas to all who read this! While we continue to be immersed in the light and joy of this blessed and holy season of Christmas, we are also reminded of the dangerous reality of the Incarnation of Jesus Christ that we celebrate during these twelve days.

St. Stephen,
Deacon & Martyr
December 26th

In claiming the Christ Child as our Lord, Savior, and Master, we are embracing a counter-cultural vision of the world. Our power is not in prestige or wealth, but rests in the fragile baby who was born into an impoverished Jewish family. God exults those who are powerless and humble. The merciful, the just, and the peacemakers will be vindicated by the Lord, for our faith reminds us that there is more to life than what we experience here and now. Indeed, God's justice and mercy - inaugurated one silent night more than 2,000 years ago in Bethlehem - will be brought to fulfillment and fullness at the end of time. 

As Christians, we celebrate the Incarnation of the very Word of God. We must then constantly work to de-construct the gods and idols of our own making: consumerism, greed, lust, and domination. Instead, like the Christ Child, we humbly embrace the Gospel values of poverty, lowliness, and self-giving love.  

St. John,
Apostle & Exile
December 27th

All this week, we have remembered various saints and martyrs who have given their very lives in witnessing to these Gospel values inherent in the coming of Christ at Christmas. In some cases, such as in the martyrdom of Stephen, their lives were willingly handed over to their persecutors. In other cases, such as with the innocent children of 1st century Bethlehem, violence and martyrdom were imposed by those unbridled forces of evil and hatred. 

Today in our own time, Christians throughout the world, particularly in Iraq, Syria, the Central African Republic, South Sudan, and Nigeria, continue to be persecuted, rejected, and martyred for their faith in the Incarnate Lord. Many others - though not Christian in creed - become like Christ the refugee child as they flee the violence that has engulfed their once serene towns and homelands.

The Holy Innocents,
1st century Martyrs
December 28th

The wood of the crib foreshadows the wood of the cross. Christ was born into our imperfect and sinful world, a world that still clings desperately onto its own darkness. However, the Son of God became one like us not to condemn nor to punish us, but to illumine our lives and our hearts with the light of God's love, truth, and mercy. The martyrs of long ago and of today still experience the dark powers of cruelty, evil, and suffering. Their witness points to the victorious power of God's saving love, even in the midst of death. The martyrs' lowliness and poverty of spirit give perfect witness and embody the Incarnation of Christ Jesus. 

St. Thomas a Becket,
Bishop & Martyr
December 29th

This is the dangerous reality of Christmas that we are invited to consider. We remember those who have given their lives in witness to Christ. And we pray for those who continue to be persecuted for the sake of the name of Jesus. While we may never have to give up our lives in martyrdom, we are nevertheless challenged to embrace the same Gospel values of Christ and his martyr-witnesses: humility, lowliness, poverty, and self-giving love.

Advent Reflection: Week 4

As we approach the Christmas season, I can’t help but recall some of my favorite memories from this time of year. I think of those snowy days in December when my siblings and I would zoom down white hills on our plastic sleds. I remember waiting with great anticipation for Santa Claus to come with mountains of gifts. My mouth waters as I think about the smells and tastes of my grandmother’s Cuban dishes prepared on Christmas Eve. Those cold, dark days of December were softened by the glow of Christmas lights in our neighborhood and the warmth of our family’s home. As fun and as beautiful as these memories are, however, they do not fully reflect the true meaning and significance of this approaching Christmas season. 

As I read and pray with the Nativity of Jesus Christ from the Gospel of Luke, I come to realize the very radical nature of the Incarnation. Jesus Christ, the eternal Son of God, left his proper place at the right hand of God the Father in order to fully assume our human nature as a small, helpless, and fragile child. Jesus’ very conception occurred in unusual circumstances: an unwed, Spirit-filled mother, ponderings of divorce, dreams and visions, acts of trust and faith. Jesus was not born as a wealthy or powerful Roman, but he chose to be born into a poor and powerless Jewish family. Jesus was born a stranger in a damp and dirty cave amidst oxen and cattle. 

We continue to see the radical nature of the Incarnation in the announcement of the angels to the shepherds! Shepherds were societal outcasts who existed on the margins of society as landless workers. They were tasked with herding unintelligent, smelly animals. It was precisely to these shepherds that the heavenly host of angels declare the birth of the Savior! The birth of Jesus inaugurates his life’s mission of restoring all people, particularly the marginalized, to new life in God.

While I’ll always hold onto and cherish those dear Christmas memories from my childhood, I recognize that the true meaning of Christmas is much more challenging! As a baptized disciple of Jesus Christ, I am called to identify myself with the Incarnate One who chose to be born poor, powerless, and vulnerable. The entire life of Christ – from his birth to his death – was one of mercy, compassion and constant selflessness. This kenotic, self-emptying love is to be the hallmark of all who claim to be followers of Jesus.

My life as a Christian, then, also compels me to be like those angels on that first Christmas night, to find the outcasts on the margins of society and proclaim to them the Good News that Christ has been born to free us from sin and restore us to God’s life and friendship!

And this is what the Christmas season is truly about. Merry Christmas!

Advent Reflection: Week 3

(Luke 1:26-38)

Two weeks ago, we looked at the hope fostered by the prophet Isaiah for the coming of the Lord. Last week (in the middle of a snowstorm!), we focused on the faith of John the Baptist in God's immanent presence in the world. And now, in this third week of Advent, we focus on the Virgin Mary and her great act of love and trust.

As I prayed with this passage of the Annunciation from the Gospel of Luke, I began to think about the different images we have of Mary in our churches and in our homes. So often, Mary is depicted in statues, stained glass windows, and artistic renderings with eyes closed and hands folded in prayer. She is calm, serene, and at peace.

These are beautiful depictions, but I'm not sure they quite reflect the emotions of tonight's Gospel. I like the painting by artist Henry Ossawa Tanner which shows Mary as a young Jewish girl with messy dark hair, startled awake by the glow of a pillar of light, representing the angel Gabriel. The bed sheets are strewn about. Mary sits uncomfortably on the bed. For me, this painting reflects Mary's experience of the Annunciation. The Gospel passage describes her as "greatly troubled" and "ponderous." Mary even questions the angel: "How can this be?!" God had invited Mary into something quite unexpected and unplanned. Naturally, Mary was troubled, confused, and had many questions.

"The Annunciation" by Henry Ossawa Tanner (1898)

My friends, we can probably relate to these emotions of Mary. Consider the many ways in which God calls and invites us to be open, to do that which is entirely unexpected. In various ways, we experience the unexpectedness of God:

-We might be called to stretch ourselves in serving the needs of others, especially the poor, the hungry, the homeless, and the immigrant in our midst.
-We might be challenged to forgive somebody who hurt us many years ago and only now, this person is apologizing to us.
-We welcome the unexpected or unplanned child into our families. Or maybe we take the lower-paying job and stretch our checkbooks so that we can spend more time with our family.
-We care for our sick and aged parents.
-In my case, the unexpectedness of God came in the call to further explore priestly ministry.

In these ways, and in so many other instances, we are being invited by God to make Christ present in the world. Mary became the bearer of Christ -the Theotokos- through her motherhood. How are we being called to bring Christ into the world?

The Theotokos

No matter how we are called, it can be quite a challenge to say "yes"! By ourselves, we cannot do it. We are paralyzed by our own fears and doubts. But we need not fear! For God gives us a word of comfort. God's angel says, "Fear not! Do not be afraid!"

God alone helps us to move from fear to freedom, from uncertainty and doubt to trust and confidence. This is our Advent journey.

We move from the impossible to the possible because God comes to dwell within us. God desires to be birthed within us! Mary was an open receptacle. Mary is the one who was open to this unplanned and unexpected will of God the Father. Mary's "yes" comes only after questioning and grappling with this invitation from God.

The same is true for us. We continue to wrestle with what we are to do with our lives, how we are to respond in faith, love, and trust to those unexpected and unplanned moments of invitation. And in the end, when we finally do live out our own "yes," when we open ourselves up in loving trust to God, and when we truly say and mean those words of Mary, "Be it done to me according to your word," then our souls will begin to feel like those artistic renderings of Mary: calm, serene, unafraid, and at peace.

Advent Reflection: Week 2

(Matthew 11:2-11)

During this second week of Advent, we now turn our attention to John the Baptizer, somebody who has always been a bit of a mysterious figure to me. John was an odd man who wore coarse camel skins. He was a gaunt figure who ate honey and locusts. John was a fierce preacher and prophet in the desert of Judea.

So, why were so many people drawn to John the Baptist?
Why did so many people leave the Temple area of Jerusalem in order to be baptized in the Jordan River?

I think the people were drawn to the firmness of John’s conviction that God’s Kingdom was breaking into the world. John believed with his entire heart that the promise made to the People Israel long ago was now coming to fulfillment. The reign of God’s justice, peace, and love would soon be embodied in the advent of the Messiah. John saw himself simply as the humble messenger of the coming of the Messiah. Those who repented of their sin would be welcomed into this share of the Reign of God.

John is a preacher and a prophet full of zeal, one who has encountered the saving power of God. He can - and he must! - preach the good news.

Yet, in this Gospel passage, we hear that John's desert ministry of preparing the people for the coming of the Lord has been suspended. John is in jail. John needs to know that his preaching, his ministry, and his entire life were not in vain.

In desperation, John asks Jesus: “Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?” This question posed by John for Jesus is certainly ours, too. We’re aware of the struggles of faith that often arise in our lives. When life seems hard, when nothing seems to go right, when we keep falling into the same old bad habits, or when God's love seems distant or absent from our lives, we might experience a crisis of faith. 

Like John the Baptist, we can be imprisoned to our doubts and struggles. The light of hope fades. In our struggle to cling onto faith, we cry out: “Jesus, are you truly the One who has come to save me? How can I experience you as my Liberator, my Lord, my Messiah?” Jesus reminds us that we need only to look around us, even when are faith seems shaken – to see with new eyes of faith that God's Kingdom continues to grow all around us. Jesus, our long-awaited Lord and Messiah, is at work among us today, here and now! 

To John – and to us – Jesus responds: “the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them.” This is Emmanuel. This is God-with-us! We've experienced the saving power of Jesus in our lives. The Lord Jesus gives us sight when we were unable to see the goodness in others or ourselves. The Lord Jesus cures us of those things which keep us confined, unable to walk as free children of God. The Lord Jesus whispers into our hearts that we are loved, that we are important and special to God, cleansing us of the noise of negativity that deafens us. The Lord Jesus raises us from death to new life, saving us from the powers of sin, addiction, and evil.

Yes, in all of these moments, Jesus comes to save us! Jesus is God-with-us: Emmanuel. John’s mission, John’s preaching, and John’s faith were not in vain. As we continue on our Advent journey of faith, let us take to heart two lessons that the John the Baptist teaches us:

1) First, like John, we are to be emboldened by the Good News of God’s presence among us. We are to be passionate about God’s Reign of justice and mercy in all that we say and do. We are to be bold missionary disciples of Jesus Christ!

2.) And secondly, when we have those moments in which we are imprisoned by our doubts and fears, when we feel that our faith is not strong enough to get us through difficulties, it is in these moments that we depend totally on Christ Jesus. We allow Jesus to reveal his saving presence to us in all the good that he has done and continues to do in our lives.

In this way, with John the Baptizer and many others, we will prepare the way of the Lord for others, and for ourselves. May we be always be aware of our God who is always with us, our Emmanuel.

Advent Reflection: Week 1

(Isaiah 2:1-5)

My friends, tonight we hear from Isaiah, the first of the great Advent figures we will be looking to in these next four weeks. Isaiah is the prophet of hope, the one who trusts in the Lord, even when everything around him seems to be falling apart around him.

If you’ve ever read the Book of Isaiah, you’ll notice that the prophet uses many evocative images in his writings. We just heard of the “Lord’s mountain” – this fantastic peak in which all different peoples and all different nations will climb to learn of God’s law of peace and justice.

We know the literal risks of driving, climbing, and living in the mountains. We are also quite aware about the challenges of ascending God’s mountain, of striving towards that place where God’s everlasting peace reigns. How can we even dream of climbing the mountain of the Lord, to walk in God’s ways of justice, love, and peace, when we see and experience so much violence, suffering, and division in our world? Think of the suffering civilians in Aleppo, Syria. In our own cities, we are afflicted with violence. Political differences and animosity still divide us. We may know the pain of division in our own families as well.  

The mountain peak of God’s peace might seem too far from our grasp! Isaiah's vision of many peoples and many nations who were once divided coming together to climb the mountain of the Lord is nice…But can it be real? Can God truly break down these barriers?  Can former enemies walk together in God’s light?

Isaiah believed this was possible. The prophet lived during a time of great unrest, much like our own. Despite these issues of war, weak leadership, corruption, division, religious indifference, Isaiah was still inspired by his undying hope in God. God had acted in the past. And God will act now! 

Isaiah teaches us that as we look to the past and see the many ways that God has been at work in our lives, we can live in our present moment and look to the future with a profound sense of hope. This hope is not blind optimism nor does it ignore the harsh realities of our world. Rather, we live as a people who have known and experienced God’s saving presence in our lives. 

John Paul II forgives his would-be-assassin (1981).

This is the gift of hope that inspired Isaiah to trust that there would be peace in his time, that swords and weapons of war would be turned into pruning hooks and plows, that rocky paths would be made smooth, that the lion would lie down with the lamb – that former enemies would climb God’s mountain together. This gift of hope propelled women like Dorothy Day and Mother Theresa to work on behalf of the poor, to further the reign of God's Kingdom of justice. This gift of hope propelled men like Pope John Paul II and Nelson Mandela to see the world marked not by vengeance and retaliation, but by forgiveness and mercy.

We entrust our present moment and our unknown future to our loving God who has proven his faithfulness in our own past, who has acted in our lives before. With God’s gift of hope, may we dream anew with Isaiah concrete ways in which we can begin to break down barriers, climb the mountain of the Lord, and walk together in God’s light.