Wrighton Award

Those of you who attended the 9:00 mass last night at the CSC were witness to Chancellor Wrighton receiving the first-annual Catholic Campus Ministry Association's Exemplary Administrator Award. Below is a photo of the chancellor receiving the award, as well as the full text of the essay that was submitted to nominate him for the honor.

Mark S. Wrighton, Chancellor of Washington University in St. Louis and champion of the Catholic Student Center at that institution, is a chemist at heart. After graduating from Florida State University with a B.S. degree with honors in chemistry in 1969, Chancellor Wrighton spent the next 21 years in chemistry-related academia. He is blessed with the skills of joining covalent bonds to charged particles, of linking elements together to form complex compounds. He is blessed with the ability to make connections.

Upon his election and appointment as the Chancellor of Washington University in St. Louis in 1995, Chancellor Wrighton took his abilities in the field of chemistry and transferred them to the student body and greater community. Instead of melding molecules, he forged relationships between donors, alumni, parents, faculty, and the people of St. Louis. He recognized that the Catholic Student Center and its director, Fr. Gary Braun, were important assets in keeping those bonds firmly in place. He also saw the CSC as a house open to students of all denominations, a home away from home for students who need a place to feel grounded and comfortable in their own skin. By identifying and affirming the CSC’s efforts to be open and inclusive, Chancellor Wrighton established a precedent for Washington University to welcome students and organizations of all faiths. Chancellor Wrighton continues this tradition by making several appearances at Interfaith Alliance meetings every year.

During his years in the field of chemistry, a major focus of Chancellor Wrighton’s research interests was discerning and creating new catalysts. In his role as the Chancellor, he himself has embodied the role of a catalyst as he has sought to expand the Catholic Student Center’s potential energy. When the CSC determined that it needed to expand its chapel to accommodate the crowds of students that filled the seats every Sunday, Chancellor Wrighton was there to support the initiative from the beginning. At the campaign kickoff for the chapel expansion in 2005, which coincided with Chancellor Wrighton’s birthday, he served as the keynote speaker. Even though Chancellor Wrighton is not Catholic, and even though the university’s charter does not allow it to support any particular religion or religious university, he extended the generosity of his time to the CSC community to support the cause.

But Chancellor Wrighton has acknowledged from the beginning that the CSC is more than a chapel. He believes that the CSC plays an integral role in student life, not just as a physical place, but also as a living campus ministry that positively affects the lives of the students at Washington University. Through Chancellor Wrighton’s guidance, the university now receives over 22,000 applications for about 1,350 openings in a typical entering class (a two-fold increase from before his appointment), and he has opened his arms to campus ministers walking among those students.

Despite his impressive academic background, Chancellor Wrighton continues to learn from those around him. Immediately following the tragedy on September 11, 2001, one of the first people he called was Fr. Gary. He welcomed Fr. Gary’s counsellorship, and he sought to better understand the spiritual side of how to deal with the aftermath of the terrorist act. Chancellor Wrighton has also striven to give students the opportunity to learn more about faith and religion, most recently by adding a full-time Chair of Catholic Studies to the university’s faculty. The addition, he noted in his announcement, allows Washington University to “foster a deeper understanding of the historical, philosophical, theological and social impact of the Roman Catholic Church. And it will create new opportunities for greater interaction with the St. Louis Catholic community.” This position complements the previously established programs in Jewish and Islamic studies.

In the chemistry lab, Mark S. Wrighton successfully replicated photosynthesis, the conversion of solar energy into usable, chemical energy in biological organisms. As the Chancellor at Washington University in St. Louis, he has found a way to connect students to the various sources of energy in their lives. The Catholic Student Center and other campus ministries are vessels of such energy, and we are blessed to have Chancellor Wrighton as a champion of our ministry.

What Does Writing Do For You?

Today one of my favorite people at the CSC reminded me of something I've known for so long but usually somehow forget. She said that while I can be so specific and descriptive in writing about what I feel or think, whenever she asks me in person how I'm doing I inevitably answer in some quiet and vague manner. I'm not as good of a communicator in person as on the page, she said to me tonight.

Like I said, this was hardly breaking news to me or to anybody who knows me. Not only do I come from a family that internalizes just about everything, but for years I struggled with a speech impediment that stunted my confidence and muzzled me even more. Nurture and nature. And to be really honest, I still struggle with it. Every day. I say this openly and frequently, but getting to the point to where I am today--a teacher, retreat director, campus minister, and a coach--is an achievement in which I take more pride than just about anything else I've accomplished. The achievement isn't in the fact that I've conquered anything. Just that I've learned how to harness my fear.

But why is it so difficult for me to open up to a friend in a one-on-one setting? This is never an issue of literally struggling to speak; that's a perpetual gift saved for other numerous opportunities. I wish I knew the answer, because deep down, I long to have that connection. I long to have intimate relationships. I anticipate one of the greatest and deepest joys of my life will be when I find the woman with whom I will share everything. And I've already received great blessings and graces through real and sustained friendship. So it's not that I desire to ever come off as shallow, detached, or worse, uncaring. In fact, when I look at myself in the morning, I look at someone who strives to be quite the opposite.

So what does writing afford me, the writer? What does it do for you?

One thing I love is reading reflections on the art and craft of writing. But real quickly, I believe that the act of writing inherently puts an arrangement around feelings or anchors actions that may lack any other real nucleus. Once written, words allow the writer the opportunity to get a more objective perspective on things that have rumbled around inside of him or her. Once I see what's on my paper or computer screen, I'm more able to find the words to speak about those very things in a more coherent manner. It's a process.

But thanks to my challenger tonight, I'm re-resolved to taking the same risks in conversation that I do on the page. Even though vastly more people could theoretically read what I post on a blog, the real and immediate presence of a one-on-one conversation is somehow more threatening to me. Threatening and scary, but an intimacy that bonds friendships anew and strengthens ones existing. Two things I can get on board with.

Catholic CSC Vocabulary

When I first came to the CSC and was thinking about becoming Catholic, I had to learn a whole new vocabulary. There were so many unfamiliar words and phrases which people would toss around during conversation, and it took me a little while to place them all in context and make definitions for them. For example:

'The gifts' brought up to the altar during Mass are the bread and the wine, not the collection baskets that go around church.

A 'monsignor' is a fancy priest, whereas a 'monstrance' is the gold stand which holds up the consecrated Host during eucharistic adoration.

'Perpetual' adoration means it's going to be at some terrible hour of the night.

The 'Our Father' is the same thing as "The Lord's Prayer.'

The 'Gary' in 'Father Gary' is his first name, not his last name.

'OCD' refers to the initials of the Discalced Carmelites, not Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. And CCD is something totally different - a Catholic education class.

All the different "ladies" in Catholicism are not actually different. Names like "Lourdes" and "Guadalupe" are not these women's names, but refer to the places where Mary was seen.

When you're new to the Catholic Student Center and somebody comes up and invites you to 'Masensupe on Tuesday,' they mean a Mass service first and then a soup dinner afterwards :P

'Scoot to the middle of your pew' isn't meant literally, but rather means you're supposed to scoot towards the end of the bench closest to the middle of the church.

In any case, I've enjoyed getting more familiar with all the linguistic idiosyncrasies of Catholicism and the CSC, and I'm currently in the process of trying to figure out this term: charism. I've heard Fr. Gary use it as a synonym for "ministry" but sometimes people use it as a synonym for something more vague like "community spirit." And yet other people talk about it as though it's a quality you're born with, like an extra chromosome or something. So, for example, what does it mean to talk about the "charism of the CSC"? I'm trying to build a working definition for this word and this is what I've got so far:

"A charism is the shared principle by which the members of a particular community articulate the love of Christ in their interactions with God, one another, and the world. A charism is not a static quality possessed by an individual, but rather a relational capacity manifested in community. This articulation of love is infused and guided by the Holy Spirit and thus, with God's help, individuals can grow into the community semantic. Fulfilling this potential lends efficacy to the community's abstract spirit. When a charism is shared by the members of a community, it forms the grammar of their love in everyday prayer, relationship and ministry. The manifestation of charism is essentially the continued speaking of god's eternal word through the lived language of a particular community."

Okay, does that definition work according to your experiential understanding of the term? And if we buy this definition, then what would the "CSC charism" be? What is our particular gift in articulating the love of Christ?

Managing Faith: Why Do You Go to Mass?

Why do you go to Mass?

Really, why do you do it? What's your motivation behind it? Why don't you just celebrate God and faith at home? Why don't you just pray in your dorm room for an hour every Sunday?

The answer, I would suspect, is that you go to Mass to celebrate your faith with other people. Even if you go alone, you go to celebrate your faith with other people of the same faith. You go for the Communion of it all.

So why, then, do so many forget that there are other people around them in the chapel?

Let me explain. And I'll preface this by saying that this is a post I've wanted to write for a while, but I didn't know if it was my place to write it. I still don't. But I think someone needs to say it.

On several occasions when I've sat in the chapel at the CSC on Sunday, I've noticed people being completely inconsiderate of those around them. I've noticed the following things:

1. People with crying babies who remain in the main chapel. This really, really disrupts people's spiritual experience. At the CSC, we have a special area for that in the Commons, where you can still experience Mass on the TV (and you can still see into the chapel).
2. People who don't scoot over when the congregation is asked to scoot toward the middle aisle. To me, when you don't scoot, you're saying that you don't want other people to share the Mass experience with you. You're saying, "You're not welcome in this pew."
3. People who don't sing. I understand that not everyone has a good voice. I've been told that I have a horrible voice, and as a result, I don't sing loudly. But I sing. Fr. Gary had a homily about this last year, about how you not singing discourages other people around you from singing. If we put our voices together, we can create beautiful music.
4. Couples who are extremely touchy-feely during Mass. Frankly, this is really distracting to everyone around you. Holding hands is one things. But coddling and constantly touching and reverting all of your attention to the person next to you is pulling your attention--and the attention of those around you--away from God, away from the point of our Catholic rituals. I don't see this very often, but when I do, it really disrupts my mass experience. I want to say, "Get a room! This is a chapel!"

I am certainly culpable of these transgressions at times. But I'm very conscious of them. I'm conscious that I'm in a room full of other people who are trying to get in touch with the Holy Spirit.

The next time you're at Mass, be aware of how the things you're doing--or not doing--are affecting the people around you. Offer that gift to the community, and to yourself.

Peace, Purpose and Potential

How do you know that God is involved?



Today I was chatting on the phone with a friend from Illinois who is making a lot of those college-age decisions we're all thinking about - what to do over the summer, what to do with life, where to move after graduation, etc. She and I were having a very light conversation joking about the possibilities, when she got very serious and asked: "How does a person know for sure that the Holy Spirit is in something? What are the indicators, the tests, the variables that have to be there?"

The wording of the question initially struck me as rather odd because I'd never tried to parce up the Holy Spirit's presence and agency with such scientific vocabulary. My brain doesn't usually think in scientific ways, and I've usually felt this issue out in terms of synchronization: is my heart beating in time with God's, or not?

But her quest for a God indicator is a useful question in many ways. In the ways we spend our time, the activities we engage in, the dreams we cultivate... how exactly do we know and articulate that it's all coming from God and not merely our own fancy? I'd love to know how you approach this issue, and how your experience would lead you to articulate the Holy Spirit's agency... so please comment if you've got an answer!!

So far my mess of musings has distilled into this: I can trust that the spirit activating me is from God if I have a sense of Peace, Purpose, and Potential.

The sense of Peace is necessary because it saves us from rashness or regret. I think the author of the Book of Sirach was talking about peace when he wrote "Do nothing without deliberation, but when you have acted, do not regret it" (Sirach 32:19).

The sense of Purpose is necessary because this is the fire which makes life decisions matter. In today's postmodern world where everything - including religion and altruism - is so easily reduced to meaninglessness, the Holy Spirit is the little voice that whispers, "But it DOES matter! It's part of the building of the reigning kingdom!" Sometimes I feel a great sense of purpose and sometimes the world seems absolutely arbitrary... but I've noticed I'm always much happier in the first state, and so I think that must be linked to the presence of the wholesomeness of God.

The sense of Potential is necessary because it ensures that the proposed decision is in our best interest. There are lots of good options out there, but for whatever reason, some of the choices are marked by a personal sense of thriving while others are marked by a personal sense of dead-end-ness. Jesus said, "I have come that they might have life, and have it abundantly" (John 10:10) and I think that gives us license to choose what will make us most fully human and fully awake. Do you ever get the feeling that your heart is opening wider and that it's capacity to learn and love will keep on increasing forever? I think that's God.

What do you think? Would you find Peace, Purpose and Potential to be useful tests of God's agency in your life? What are the 'variables' that you look for? How has the presence of God sorted itself in your experience?

~Stephanieeeee

The Birthmother Perspective

As a follow up to Adopting Me, an article about adoption I wrote for Crosswalk.com that has been widely read (3 weeks after publication, it's still on the top 10 most popular list on the site), my birthmotherwrote about my adoption from her perspective in a piece published on the site today. This piece should be followed in a few weeks by an article by my parents on the same subject, the trifecta offering perspectives from all sides.

The Adoption Option: One Mom's Decision to Give Up Her Baby

Consecration Inevitably Implies Mission

What does it mean to be 'elect'? How does being 'the people of God' differ from any other kind of existence? How does being chosen through baptism translate into the real world?
I came across this quote in some reading I was doing for a discussion group, and it immediately made me think of all those in RCIA who are preparing to receive the Holy Spirit in the Easter sacraments:

"When God consecrates a person, he gives a special gift to achieve his own kind purposes: the reconciliation and salvation of the human race. He not only chooses, sets apart, and dedicates the person to himself, but he engages him or her in his own divine work. Consecration inevitably implies mission. These are two facets of one reality. The choice of a person by God is for the sake of others: the consecrated person is one who is sent to do the work of God in the power of God. Jesus himself was clearly aware of this. Consecrated and sent to bring the salvation of God, he was wholly dedicated to the Father in adoration, love, and surrender, and totally given to the work of the Father, which is the salvation of the world."*

After I became Catholic, much of my family didn't understand why it had to be such a big part of my life. They understood that I had become part of this religion, and that made sense in the realm of ideas; but they didn't understand why this metaphorical switch had me running off to do Catholic things all the time like the Catholic Worker House. It just seemed weird.

I couldn't explain why it was so important to live out Catholicism as well as think it out, but now I think this quote above explains it well. I think all of us are in a continuous process of consecration, and thus we all are constantly being pulled toward mission: these are two facets of one reality.

This past Tuesday in RCIA, we were discussing morality and social justice, and Carla mentioned that social justice is often the "best kept secret in the Catholic Church." That's such a shame, but it's probably accurate since most people see spirituality and mission as different sorts of things.

This Lent, let's all take some time to think about what it means for us to be personally consecrated to loving and serving God!! - Stephanie

*"Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Life as Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of the Apostalate." Sacred Congregation for Religious and for Secular Institutes, Rome: 1983.

Managing Faith: The Dilution of "I Love You"

Last night I was watching the reunion episode of Top Chef, a competitive cooking reality show. All contestants had congregated in a studio to film the episode, and there was plenty of joking around and underhanded jabs at one another.

Following a slightly inflammatory comment from one of the contestants to another, the contestants said, "No, really, I love you" in a tone that actually said, "Let's move on."

After that, I happened to catch the tail end of American Idol, during which a contestant was particularly crestfallen after being eliminated. Paula Abdul reached out to her, grabbed her hand, and said, "You know we love you."

Call me old fashioned, but I consider the combination of those three words--"I love you"--to be the most powerful in the English language. In any language. Why are people throwing them around so easily?

I wouldn't mind someone saying those words if they meant them. If Paula truly loved that contestant, if the guy on Top Chef truly loved his competitor, by all means, say it. But it's painfully apparent that there's no love there. Sure, Paula feels for the contestant and maybe has enjoyed her stint on the show, but she doesn't love her. She likes her. "You know we like you," she should have said.

I'm probably being nitpicky, but it's just a big turnoff for me to hear those words thrown around. It dilutes their power; it dilutes their meaning. Do we really want the three most powerful words in our vocabulary to be diluted down to "Let's move on"?

Rite of Election

Tomorrow evening, the candidates and catechumens are going to take part in the Rite of Election at the Cathedral Basilica. I am very excited for them, especially my sponsee, because I remember going last year when I myself was in RCIA, and it was a wonderful experience!

When I went to the Rite of Election last year, it was neat to meet the bishop and I was astounded by the size and glimmering beauty of the building, but the most amazing part was seeing the candidates and catechumens from other RCIA programs in the archdiocese. I hadn't ever realized that there were so many people in the process of becoming Catholic, and it was fascinating to see so many groups from all over St. Louis. There were RCIA programs of all sizes, from big groups like the CSC to small groups of 2 or 3 people from parishes. And yet we were all taking the same step towards Easter Vigil!

I wanted to lean over the pew and ask random strangers: how did you come to be doing this? who are the people that influenced and inspired you towards this decision? how do you understand the church we're entering into on Easter? are you at all scared to be heading towards confirmation?

It struck me as rather funny that I should feel in solidarity with so many random people in the pews of a Midwestern cathedral. After all, there were a million little contingencies that could have gone another way... what if I had stayed in California for college, what if Wash. U didn't have a CSC, what if Catholic people had been really rude or unwelcoming, what if my sponsor didn't write a letter of recommendation to the bishop, etc. But somehow life had taken this particular path and there I was, part of the elect. We met the bishop, our names were called, and we stood at the front of the basilica.

After the rite was finished that evening, my older sister happened to call me since we hadn't talked in a while. I wanted to tell her how happy I was, but I couldn't figure out a way to explain it without sounding crazy. Words like "rite"and "gold basilica" and "elect" sound very foreign and cultish without the proper context. So I just told my sister I'd had a really productive evening working on an English essay, which wasn't true but made my life a lot easier.

Now that I'm more settled in the Catholic church, however, I think I understand why going to the Rite of Election meant so much to me. I liked seeing the other candidates and catechumens because it felt like I was meeting future family members. Maybe step-siblings feel this mix of excitement, curiosity, hope and nervousness about each other when they meet for the first time: We may not have anything in common yet, but we will soon.

Sometimes I wonder about all those elect I saw introduced with me last year. What was their experience of Easter Vigil at their parishes last year? Where are they now? Are they glad they did what they did? Maybe one day I'll be talking to somebody in Timbuktu and by chance we'll happen to realize that we both became Catholic in 2008 in St. Louis and that we were at the same Rite of Election... and then I can find out what's been going on in one of my Catholic sibling's life!

In the meantime, though, I'm just really excited for the current candidates and catechumens all over the world who are discerning their faith and taking this step towards baptism or confirmation. God bless them!

Managing Faith: Lenten Sacrifices

Let's talk about Lent. I always struggle with what to do during Lent, what sacrifice to make. I think people assume that "sacrifice" means giving up something. But if you add an hour of community service to your week, that's a sacrifice too. It can be an addition or a subtraction.

The best thing I've ever done during Lent is adding flossing to my daily regimen back in my freshman year of college. It was something I had been meaning to do, but as you know, if you don't get in the habit of flossing, you don't ever do it on a regular basis. Lent provided set amount of time for me to get in that habit. And it worked. I've flossed every day since, and my gums are quite healthy.

Alas, that was perhaps my last truly successful Lent. Today's the day to decide what I'm doing this year, and I'm still struggling. I want something personally meaningful and possibly lasting after Lent, a permanent improvement, a permanent act of prayer. One thing I'd like to do is add 10 minutes of meditation to every day...that could be what I decide. My grandmother suggested that I say hi to everyone I see every day of Lent, another good idea. What are other people doing for Lent?

Gospel Question

If there were to be a great persecution of Christians following the next 40 days, what would you begin to do right now and during that period to get ready for it?

Surprise Affirmations

Last weekend I had the opportunity to help lead a grade school retreat at the parish where I grew up. My feelings about it beforehand were certainly mixed. On one hand, this particular retreat is a great model for getting soon-to-be high schoolers plugged in to opportunities with both youth group and developing their own faith. On the other hand, why do I have to be the one? Spending a weekend with 150 screaming teenagers (in addition to the 75 eighth graders, another 75 high schoolers helped lead the retreat) wasn't exactly the way I hoped to spend three-fourths of a four-day holiday weekend.

But here's what I learned last weekend:

1. For me, there is no such thing as a standard 9-5, 40 hour work week. It would be one thing if I worked as a librarian or a lawyer--being surrounded for a weekend by the excitement and pure joy of youth could be a pleasant change once in awhile. But as a retreat coordinator and campus minister at an all-boys' high school, the only thing different between this and how I spend my weeks was the sudden insertion of 100 XX chromosomes, and even a number of the XY'ers were students from school. Being involved in the life of teenagers isn't something I'm able to leave at the door Friday afternoon. I'm learning that can be both exhilarating and exhausting.

2. I have a long way to go on my own faith journey. I tend to complicate my faith too much. Maybe this is a product of my decision to make theology a large part of my own education, and as a result get lost in what I sometimes call the "head-rosphere," but this weekend helped remind me of the simplicity of our situation: God loves us, all of us, and just wants us to accept a relationship with him.

3. I was affirmed. Standing in a dark gymnasium, alone in the middle of a spontaneously formed, hand-linked circle of 150 people all praying a beautiful song about the unity of God's children, I had a powerful realization.

With the guidance of the Holy Spirit, I had just finished my part of a talk on the subject of "God's Love." Now, I figure I've probably given nearly 40 talks at retreats over the past eight years, but never before had I attempted to place words on something so immense. Hours before, my stomach was in knots. I had to leave dinner, stepping outside into the cold night to ease my nerves.

But when it was my turn to speak, when the words I had labored over started to flow, I felt as if it was no longer me speaking. It felt natural. I truly felt a hand on my shoulder. In some way, what was coming out of my mouth was even new to my own ears. I've had this sensation of being surprised by what I was saying a few times before, but never before had I felt I was actually lifted above myself.

So as I stood alone in the middle of that circle, sweat falling down my forehead, I smiled and even laughed a little. The experience of talking about God's love had in some way brought exactly that closer to me. At that moment, there was nowhere else I wanted to be.

Even though this retreat wasn't sponsored by my job, the parallels are both obvious and affirming. I constantly have opportunities to do similar things on retreats and prayer services at school. A week from now I'll spend four days, "on the clock," with 55 students and four faculty members at a Kairos retreat--a powerful getaway regarded a favorite hang-out of the Spirit.

My vocation as a teacher and campus minister wasn't the only thing affirmed last weekend. My vocation as a child of God, humbled and awed by His love, also got a little amplification, a little spiritual gasoline.

Managing Faith: Adopting Me

I have an article published today on the Christian website Crosswalk.com about my experience with adoption. Feel free to check it out here: http://www.crosswalk.com/parenting/11599051/page2/

Seduction of the Intellect

Today, Father Gary spoke about original sin as "the seduction of the intellect" - that arrogant part of us that thinks we are so smart, so clever, and so above-it-all. It was a challenging homily for me, and probably for all of us since we are in the student phase of our lives where knowledge often seems like the height of existence.

Strangely, Father Gary's homily reminded me of an incident in third grade when that original sin flared up and made an absolute and obvious fool of me. I'm embarrassed even now to remember it, but I suppose we can all recall a time when we rationalized ourselves into feeling exempt from any sort of rule that wasn't established by the egotistic self.

I was generally a pretty well-behaved elementary student, but I had a tendency to think up my own little plans and how I might pursue them. At Hawes Elementary, we were allowed to spend recesses indoors if we wanted, but we were supposed to stay outside for the lunch break. My best friend, a Pakistani girl named Maliah, and I loved staying in the library during the morning recess to read. It was wonderful; we'd look through travel books, gaze at pictures of far-off lands, and Maliah would tell me about life in Pakistan. But during lunch, we stayed outside and made daisy chains until class resumed.

One hot afternoon, I had the bright idea that Maliah and I should ask permission to go to the library - we were known as good girls, and it wasn't so much to ask to enrich our minds, was it? Besides, there weren't very many flowers on the field and we were bored that lunch period. So Maliah and I walked up to a Yard Duty Lady and asked if we could please go to the library. She kindly explained that we had better stay outside till lunch was over. Maliah and I nodded and slowly wandered away. But over across the field, there was another Yard Duty Lady, and so we approached her. Could we please go read books in the library? She also explained that we had better stay outside till lunch was over. Over by the swings, there was yet a third Yard Duty Lady. Maliah and I went to ask her, and the answer was the same: we should stay outside until the bell rang.

We turned back toward the field to resign ourselves to boredom, and suddenly found ourselves face-to-face with the first Yard Duty Lady. Her eyes were full of fire, and her massive shadow cast somberness over us.

"Do you know what I just saw?" she asked, her voice extremely cold.

I could only stare at her with shocked and shameful eyes.

"After I told you that you could not go inside, I watched you walk all the way around this yard," she jabbed her finger at the periphery of the field, "all the way around this yard, trying to get a different answer. That's what you were doing, wasn't it? You thought you'd just keep asking until you found somebody who would give you your way, didn't you?"

That was exactly what we had thought. Maliah and I stood there for a long dressing-down until we were finally excused, humbled and numb. I remember we spent the rest of the lunch-break sitting on the field in silence, decapitating old daisies and trying to hold back tears.

That memory is very clear because it was an experience of raw shame; there was no justifying what we had done, for our persistence had indeed been borne solely of ego. We had thought ourselves so bright and precocious that somehow we deserved to be exempt from lunch policy. We had thought ourselves somehow above the rules, and our library endeavors somehow above the more ordinary, run-of-the-mill playground activities. Needless to say, after that embarrassing day, Maliah and I were quite content to stay outside and do as we were told the first time.

I have no idea why I am sharing my shameful moments with you, except that I think Father Gary was right in equating original sin with a seduction of the intellect. It's so dangerously easy to give ourselves mental pats on the back for the things we think and the endeavors we undertake. The ego keeps us pushing the limits, making us imagine that we have the 'big picture' in mind... we know best, and we can figure it all out. But that's not true.

I recall a line from the Magnificat about God's reaction to the proud, which my old Anglican church translated as: "He hath cast down the proud in the imagination of their hearts." I still remember it because that turn of phrase is so poetic and so terrifying. It's not merely an overblown conceit, but a false "imagination" of our intellects that is our downfall. It's the cultivation of a totally undeserved, knowing pride that has no legitimate place anywhere within us and yet lodges itself in our inward hearts to be cultivated by our minds.

The "seduction of the intellect" seems persuasive and clever, but as I learned that day in third grade, it's extremely embarrassing and shameful thing when revealed to be the "imagination" that it really is.

~Stephanieeee

Managing Faith: Why the Catholic Student Center Exists

Why does the Catholic Student Center exist?

Because the recently deceased Msgr. Glynn believed it should.

Along with most of the CSC staff, I attended Msgr. Glynn's funeral today. While I was there in the Basilica pews, I couldn't help but think, "What does this man mean to me?"

You see, I never met Msgr. Glynn. Maybe I did and I just don't remember it. But my point is that I have no personal memory or experience of him.

So I sat there in the pews wondering what Msgr. Glynn meant to me. Did I have any feelings about this man?

Then the answers--two of them--hit me:

1. I have this job because of Msgr. Glynn
2. I have my faith because of Msgr. Glynn

It's quite possible that Washington University wouldn't have a Newman Center without Msgr. Glynn. Think about that for a minute, especially if you've been personally affected by the CSC. It's quite possible the CSC would not exist. Or if it did, it might be two miles away from campus or it might not have a chapel or Fr. Gary wouldn't be the priest. The CSC wouldn't exist in its current form were it not for Msgr. Glynn.

Like many students, I came to Wash U back in '99 fairly ambivalent about my faith. Growing up, being Catholic had never really been a choice, and now all of a sudden it was (along with what I ate, how late I went to bed, what I watched on TV, what I studied, etc.). Without a vibrant faith community, it's quite possible my faith would have sizzled and faded away.

Instead, thanks to Msgr. Glynn's efforts to procure a building right off campus and attach a beautiful chapel to it and be succeeded by a great homeliest and conversationalist, I had one of the top Newman Centers in the country available to me. My faith was ignited and challenged, and it grew. And now I work here as a result.

Msgr. Glynn, if you can read blogs in heaven, I want to thank you for founding the Newman Center. You created the foundation for the being in faith I am today. I am forever grateful for your work and ministry.

The Word of God

For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. (Hebrews 4:12)

Wow, that has got to be the coolest bible verse I've come across in a long while!

It's very interesting that the Word of God does away with our usual perceptions of interior self and exterior world. Normally, we imagine that we are effected by things outside of ourselves: the sun shines on me, the wall is near me, the water feels cold on my skin. Our ordinary experiences take place on the exterior, through our senses. But Hebrews suggests that the Word of God works in a totally different way. It's still possible to interact with it as we might expect, by reading or hearing, but the Word also engages itself within us in a very deep and particular way.

It doesn't sound very comfortable, this business about the Word working itself under our skin like a sword slicing the joint and marrow of the bone apart... it's a deep and fundamental carving out of a person. But perhaps it's related to Father Gary's homily on the Conversion of St. Paul a few weeks ago. He talked about the way "conversion often feels a like a breakdown," and so perhaps when the Word works on us, it feels as though it's breaking us apart.

The Word burrows itself in, and suddenly we've got a bunch of exposed nerves: our souls are not synonymous with our spirits, the thoughts of our hearts are not the intentions of our hearts, and thus we become fully human and fully awake.

~Stephanie

Managing Faith: Walking with a Purpose

I have the bad habit of walking with a purpose. The "purpose" being to get where I am going. Perhaps you've seen me rush through the halls of the CSC like an automaton. Head down, neck straining forward, turning corners in quick, precise hip swivels...I acknowledge people, yes, but it's clear that I'm going somewhere, and I don't want to be stopped.

Is this hospitable? No, not at all. I became conscious of this the other day when I was reading a book about customer service. I came upon a passage in the book that made me stop and reconsider the way I walk at work.

"Always remember the 10-4 Rule: Make eye contact within 10 feet of a customer; greet him or her verbally within 4 feet."

It's a simple rule, but it's a brilliant reminder of way to make a person--not just a customer--feel welcomed and acknowledged.

It's a work in progress for me to actually live by the 10-4 Rule, as I'm a bit shy, and sometimes I forget why I'm walking from one place to another (ever end up in a room and wonder why you needed to be in that room?). But I'm working on it. So if you see me within 10 feet and I haven't made eye contact or I get even closer and I haven't greeted you, remind me of the 10-4 Rule.

Give it a try yourself. Even just for one day, try to make eye contact with people as you're walking back from class or walking from office to office. You'd be surprised at how many people don't look up from their feet as they walk or do everything humanely possible not to make eye contact. But the few that do will feel welcomed in your presence as you pass. You'll be walking in the footsteps of Jesus, as I'm sure that's how he walked.

Walk with a purpose. The purpose of welcoming.

Prayer as a Performative Speech Act

What is this thing called 'prayer' that we engage in? I'm very interested in the phenomenology of prayer because it can be so many things at once: a set of words, a state of being, a mental disposition, a connection, an action, a thinking, a listening.

Most of the time, however, we think of prayer in grammatical form - whether it is said aloud, written, or thought silently in the head. It has always seemed strange to me that we have to rely so much on the communicative aspect of prayer. Why is "talking to God" the most natural and usual way of experiencing God?

I was excited the other day, because I learned in my Linguistic Anthropology course that certain forms of speech function both as communication and as action - perhaps this is why we feel that the 'idea' has efficacy. These particular speech events are not merely descriptive, but actually constitute the subject at hand. For example, when we say "I promise" or "I testify" or "I pronounce" we are doing exactly those things! By saying something, we do something.

Perhaps prayer is a performative speech act, which would mean that we are part of the phenomenology. If
I pray for "comfort for all those who are sick," then I am not merely telling an external, third-person God to make nice things happen to all those sick people in the world, but actually dedicating myself to the God within me to comfort the sick.

And perhaps it is only the petition kind of prayer which needs to be newly understood in this context. Prayers of praise and thanksgiving are already obvious speech acts; after all, to say 'Glory to God!' is to really glorify God, and people generally use it in that way. But petition prayers are often perceived in solely communicative terms. It's all too easy to pray "for all the homeless who suffer from the cold that they may find shelter" but do nothing more than posit a set of instructions for some exterior God to fulfill. But if that prayer were made as a speech act, then it would involve wrapping one's heart around the Holy Spirit within: I promise, I proclaim, I declare, I dedicate, I vow, and I name myself to the comfort of the homeless. That is a prayer of unity and of efficacy.

So maybe 'talking to God' isn't so strange after all? It's less an externalization of God, and more a bringing forth of God? Less a description of the reigning kingdom, and more a manifestation of it?

My Super Bowl Hangover

I always try to stay a safe distance from the massive corn and cheese of the Super Bowl, but sitting around the lunch table at work today made me realize another layer of it that I'm just exhausted with.

The commercials.

And not just the extravagance that Super Bowl advertising represents, though that in itself is gag-worthy--100 grand for a one-second ad of a fat dude? C'mon, Miller.

But here's what's really remarkable to me.

People were going around and chiming in about how "disappointed" they were with a "sub-par" batch of Super Bowl ads. What did I think of the ads? I couldn't care less--I was too busy watching one of the most exciting games I've ever seen on the big stage. And even the outcome of the game is never something I lose any sleep over.

Now I'm all for a Super Bowl party with good friends and tasty food 'n' drink, but how much energy can we possibly appropriate to dissecting a 30-second advertising spot for Doritos or Pepsi like it is a short story by Faulkner? The only thing more ridiculous than AB-Inbev shelling out three million bucks for a 30-second ad is the amount of energy and attention it inevitably gets from a general population that, amazingly, seems to have nothing better to do or think about for a two-day stretch of their lives every year.

I hardly ever consider myself a moralizer, but this just seems at a whole other level of indulgent decadence that almost transcends my realm of understanding. Let's just enjoy the Super Bowl experience for what it is--a ritual where we get together with friends and enjoy a game and each other's company (and even get a chuckle at a few commercials)--but can't we just leave it on the field with the final whistle?

Note to anyone who reads this: I promise I'm not usually as curmudgeonly as this makes me sound.

Question of the Day

Tonight's Gospel Question:

Does blood run thicker than water? That is, are your family relationships more important to you than your friend relationships?