...is to admit you have a problem: In less than a week I've become addicted to Face Book. I was warned, and I resisted the peer pressure admirably for quite a long time; but last week I caved, and the result has been too many hours spent, um, er, facing? booking? face-booking? The good thing, though, is that I've managed to catch up with all sorts of folks from my past.
To those of you from my FB page coming over to this blog, you might want to start here and then go here before browsing.
You can also go to my youtube page.
Off for some days hiking and sunning and boating and eating and drinking and scrabbling and bananagramming with the Santa Barbara gang.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Packing
That's what I should be doing, but it's not what I have been doing. I select a book off the shelf and say to myself, "Oh, that was a good book; I think I remember this or that in it." And this leads me to browse the book and then to google something from it and then to think of who else I know who might have read the book and then I have to email that person or -- if I haven't been in contact -- google him or her. Attention, attention!
I lost the copy of Simplified Swahili that I bought, so I just ordered a new copy.
Lots to do, so I should get off my rusty-dusty and get moving.
Monday, June 15, 2009
"I Mission You Martin Thomas Cletus Mauter Connell..."
Those were the words of Fr. Tim Kesicki, SJ, my provincial, last Saturday. I wasn't the only one missioned that morning. Fr. Joe Bracken --celebrating 60 years as a Jesuit this year!-- is headed to Nairobi to teach at Hekima College, Fr. Jerome Odbert is headed to Jerusalem to take care of the temporal needs of the Jesuits at the house of the Bibilical Institute there, and Bro. Jim Boynton, who's served adimarably as our vocation director is headed to Haiti to work with refugees at the border of the Dominican Republic.
For each of us, Fr. Kesicki provided the context of our missioning in his introduction. You'll find clips of my missioning below.
Also on Saturday two Jesuits were ordained: Cy Whitaker and Martin Schreiber. 15 years ago Martin Schreiber attended my ordination! What a wonderful occasion their ordination was.
I had a chance to talk to Joe Daoust. He, of course, is the one who coined the term "caught in the crosshairs of providence," He's a wise man, and it was good to talk with him.
Today I visited my mother. Those who know me have heard a lot of accounts of my growing up as Marcella's son. Below is a picture my sister Sheila took with my iPhone. (You'll note the puzzle at the bottom of the picture -- my mother can't do a lot of what she once could, but she's a whiz at jigsaws.)
For each of us, Fr. Kesicki provided the context of our missioning in his introduction. You'll find clips of my missioning below.
Also on Saturday two Jesuits were ordained: Cy Whitaker and Martin Schreiber. 15 years ago Martin Schreiber attended my ordination! What a wonderful occasion their ordination was.
I had a chance to talk to Joe Daoust. He, of course, is the one who coined the term "caught in the crosshairs of providence," He's a wise man, and it was good to talk with him.
Today I visited my mother. Those who know me have heard a lot of accounts of my growing up as Marcella's son. Below is a picture my sister Sheila took with my iPhone. (You'll note the puzzle at the bottom of the picture -- my mother can't do a lot of what she once could, but she's a whiz at jigsaws.)
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Some Reflections
What are my impressions as I return to the United States? First, that it is right and good for me to move to Dodoma. When I was visiting with Margaret and Colin last Thursday evening, they spoke of the phenomenon of "the end of the earth" (unrelated to Dodoma, which is some distance from the sea). We talked about Finistère in Brittany, Finisterra in Spain, and Land’s End in Great Britain. What does it mean to experience being at the end of the earth (rather than simply at the end of one’s rope!).
What does it mean in life to stand with a horizon before you? At different times in my life I’ve thought of the horizon as a limit, choosing not the venture toward it lest I fall off the face of the earth. Now is a time in my life when I am clearly experiencing the horizon as an invitation. There’s a Latin word fascinans that captures this – the horizon can be a bit of a flirt, drawing us ever on.
One of the poems I most enjoyed teaching was Tennyson’s Ulysses. The last lines of that poem serve in many regards as a sort of prayer for me (A note to my former students in English class -- See a memorized poem is a vademecum for living!):
Maasai warrior tending his herd and talking on his mobile!
There is an irony in all of this – several, actually, but one is this: along the way of my career, folks have talked about my possibly serving as the president of a Jesuit high school or serving in some administrative capacity in higher education. In fact, in the course of the last two years I was approached by three of our high schools and one of our Jesuit universities relative to serving in such capacities. I’ve been uncertain about serving in such positions. And here I am, heading to a very uncertain position in many ways, but with greater certainty – a certainty that surprises most especially me. As C+C Music Factory might put it: Things that Make You go Hmmmm
What does it mean in life to stand with a horizon before you? At different times in my life I’ve thought of the horizon as a limit, choosing not the venture toward it lest I fall off the face of the earth. Now is a time in my life when I am clearly experiencing the horizon as an invitation. There’s a Latin word fascinans that captures this – the horizon can be a bit of a flirt, drawing us ever on.
One of the poems I most enjoyed teaching was Tennyson’s Ulysses. The last lines of that poem serve in many regards as a sort of prayer for me (A note to my former students in English class -- See a memorized poem is a vademecum for living!):
Though much is taken, much abides; and thoughI don’t want to over-romanticize this move ahead, though. No Dr. Livingstone here, I assure you, Mr. Stanley! If I didn’t think it was an invasion of privacy, I would have taken a picture of the
We are not now that strength which in the old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are,
One equal-temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
Maasai warrior tending his herd and talking on his mobile!There is an irony in all of this – several, actually, but one is this: along the way of my career, folks have talked about my possibly serving as the president of a Jesuit high school or serving in some administrative capacity in higher education. In fact, in the course of the last two years I was approached by three of our high schools and one of our Jesuit universities relative to serving in such capacities. I’ve been uncertain about serving in such positions. And here I am, heading to a very uncertain position in many ways, but with greater certainty – a certainty that surprises most especially me. As C+C Music Factory might put it: Things that Make You go Hmmmm
de Paris à AMS
I’m en route to Schiphol, the Amsterdam airport; from there I fly home this afternoon. I’m ready to get back – too much living out of a suitcase. My time in Paris was great. Much of it was spent walking and visiting with my friend Alexandre. He doesn’t quite know what to make of this move – but felt that it was worthy of a momentous dinner on Saturday to mark the occasion (Some restaurateurs might count their chickens before they hatch, but few number their ducks!) I spent the earlier part of the day in the Louvre and Musée d’Orsay. (I’ve learned, incidentally, to let everyone race to La Jaconde – there’s a lot more to the museum.) Something occurred to me during my visits to these museums: What happened to beauty?
Yesterday I followed a custom of mine and went to Mass at St. Gervais, a church located just behind l’Hôtel de Ville. Here the Jerusalem Community, an urban monastic community founded in the last century, is located. They are a very welcoming community. We Americans – and I’m sure others elsewhere as well – could stand to learn from them about full, conscious, active participation in the Mass, especially regards the music. Here's a video of the end of communion and post-communion hymns. (The sound isn’t so hot, so you’ll miss just how powerful the singing is – also, the beginning scene of communion goes a little longer than it need to; skip to about 1:20 for the singing.) I spent the afternoon strolling around La Place des Vosges and made a stop at St. Louis-St. Paul, an important Church in the history of the Jesuits.
Yesterday I followed a custom of mine and went to Mass at St. Gervais, a church located just behind l’Hôtel de Ville. Here the Jerusalem Community, an urban monastic community founded in the last century, is located. They are a very welcoming community. We Americans – and I’m sure others elsewhere as well – could stand to learn from them about full, conscious, active participation in the Mass, especially regards the music. Here's a video of the end of communion and post-communion hymns. (The sound isn’t so hot, so you’ll miss just how powerful the singing is – also, the beginning scene of communion goes a little longer than it need to; skip to about 1:20 for the singing.) I spent the afternoon strolling around La Place des Vosges and made a stop at St. Louis-St. Paul, an important Church in the history of the Jesuits.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Lutetiae Parisiorum
There's a Jesuit saying: "Ignatius is our father; Paris is our mother." I'm visiting our mother right now.
I am making my way back to LA, really I am.
I spent a really wonderful evening with some friends I know from Toronto, Colin and Margaret Visser. Ten years ago they retired to Barcelona; more recently they moved to Paris, technically in a little wedge just outside of Paris, Saint Mandé. I met them through Terry Kruger, formerly of the English-speaking Canadian Jesuit province, and hadn’t seen them since I hosted them in Cleveland when Margaret gave the Arrupe Lecture at St. Ignatius High School in 1995.
From Dubonnet to coffee it was a wonderful evening. They, too, have found themselves caught similarly in the crosshairs of providenceat different times in their lives, and our catching up on our lives over the course of these years (though we have kept up via email) was incredibly consoling.
Some years ago I received an email from them when they were both living in Toronto. They concluded the email with the word ultreia. After looking in a few dictionaries, I began asking everyone I met what that word could mean. I thought for sure it had something to do with Margaret’s past as a Classics professor -- it obviously was related to ultra. It was Fr. Bob Welsh, then president of St. Ignatius HS, Cleveland, who told me that he thought it was related to the Cursillo movement, and indeed it is. But there’s more to the story, and I’d like to share it with you.
In my next email to Margaret I confessed that I was unsure of the meaning of ultreia. She responded:
I am making my way back to LA, really I am.
I spent a really wonderful evening with some friends I know from Toronto, Colin and Margaret Visser. Ten years ago they retired to Barcelona; more recently they moved to Paris, technically in a little wedge just outside of Paris, Saint Mandé. I met them through Terry Kruger, formerly of the English-speaking Canadian Jesuit province, and hadn’t seen them since I hosted them in Cleveland when Margaret gave the Arrupe Lecture at St. Ignatius High School in 1995.
From Dubonnet to coffee it was a wonderful evening. They, too, have found themselves caught similarly in the crosshairs of providenceat different times in their lives, and our catching up on our lives over the course of these years (though we have kept up via email) was incredibly consoling.
Some years ago I received an email from them when they were both living in Toronto. They concluded the email with the word ultreia. After looking in a few dictionaries, I began asking everyone I met what that word could mean. I thought for sure it had something to do with Margaret’s past as a Classics professor -- it obviously was related to ultra. It was Fr. Bob Welsh, then president of St. Ignatius HS, Cleveland, who told me that he thought it was related to the Cursillo movement, and indeed it is. But there’s more to the story, and I’d like to share it with you.
In my next email to Margaret I confessed that I was unsure of the meaning of ultreia. She responded:
“Ultreia!” is how pilgrims greet one another on the road to Compostella. It means “Further!” like the Italian Avanti! (compare it with the Latin ultra). Also like Corragio! Colin and I once walked to Compostella. July 25th, 1995, was the 10th anniversary of the climax of that pilgrimage – St. James’s feast, as of course you know. We did it when we were converted back to the Church. That was when we began what I like to call our Second Journey – a phrase I like because it lets the First Journey remain meaningful: it’s the way you got to the starting post for the Second Journey.In some ways -- in many, really -- I'm beginning my own Second Journey.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Not the Day I Expected
Today was not the day I intended. I expected to get up, go to morning Mass, do a little reading and then walk to the Tate Modern and visit some of the Wren churches. What I did instead was even more delightful.
Last evening at supper the provincial of the British Province, Fr. Michael Holman, SJ, suggested that I might profit from talking with Fr. Tim Byron, SJ, chaplain at St. Ignatius, the Jesuit school in Enfield, a borough of London. I first met Michael when he “shadowed” Fr. Bob Welsh, SJ, former president of St. Ignatius High School in Cleveland when I was a regent there in the late 1980’s.
In any case, Michael followed up with me after dinner, asking if I would like for him to arrange a phone conversation. When I said yes, he immediately called Tim on his mobile. A brief conversation between us ensued – the upshot is I spent a few hours at the school today. I was so impressed by the commitment of the school community to Dodoma – faculty, staff, administration, students (and from what I understand, the parents, too). They’ve come up with tens of different ways to raise funds for the primary school and want to do the same for St. Peter Claver High School, the first institution at Our Lady Queen of Peace to open.
But more than just raising funds, they’ve integrated this concern for Dodoma into their curriculum – for instance, the study of geography and economics. I’d heard of the twinning from Sossy and know how much it means on the Dodoma end – it was heartening to see just how much it means on the Enfield end.
I had a delightful supper with Fr. Peter Gallagher, SJ, who teaches at Heythrop College. Peter taught a summer session of Koine Greek at the Weston School of Theology (now the Boston College School of Theology and Ministry) in Cambridge, Mass., before I started theology in 1990. It was good to visit with him, very good indeed.
Last evening at supper the provincial of the British Province, Fr. Michael Holman, SJ, suggested that I might profit from talking with Fr. Tim Byron, SJ, chaplain at St. Ignatius, the Jesuit school in Enfield, a borough of London. I first met Michael when he “shadowed” Fr. Bob Welsh, SJ, former president of St. Ignatius High School in Cleveland when I was a regent there in the late 1980’s.
In any case, Michael followed up with me after dinner, asking if I would like for him to arrange a phone conversation. When I said yes, he immediately called Tim on his mobile. A brief conversation between us ensued – the upshot is I spent a few hours at the school today. I was so impressed by the commitment of the school community to Dodoma – faculty, staff, administration, students (and from what I understand, the parents, too). They’ve come up with tens of different ways to raise funds for the primary school and want to do the same for St. Peter Claver High School, the first institution at Our Lady Queen of Peace to open.
But more than just raising funds, they’ve integrated this concern for Dodoma into their curriculum – for instance, the study of geography and economics. I’d heard of the twinning from Sossy and know how much it means on the Dodoma end – it was heartening to see just how much it means on the Enfield end.
I had a delightful supper with Fr. Peter Gallagher, SJ, who teaches at Heythrop College. Peter taught a summer session of Koine Greek at the Weston School of Theology (now the Boston College School of Theology and Ministry) in Cambridge, Mass., before I started theology in 1990. It was good to visit with him, very good indeed.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Kingdoms May Come, Kingdoms May Go...
...Whatever the end may be/ But Old Father Thames keeps rolling along/ Down to the mighty sea. (Those are lines of verse on a bookmark my mother bought when she visited London 30 years or so ago -- and I've remembered them!).
I’ve been in London the last couple of days. I’ve come down with a small cold (as not infrequently happens after flying) so spent the first day resting, really – walks in Hyde Park, reading, etc. Today I walked from the Farm Street Jesuit Community (after a near miss, got a room at this in-demand spot for guests) in the Mayfair neighborhood to the Tate (Millbank); I’ll go to the opposite side of the Thames tomorrow for the Tate modern, which museum I love. On Wednesday I'll repeat something I did during my first visit to London in 2001: visit Christopher-Wren designed churches. Wednesday evening I'm out to dinner with colleague and friend Fr. Tom Batsis, O. Carm. We've promised forever to go out to dinner -- and it happens in London.
The parish Church here, commonly referred to as the Farm Street Church (but dedicated to the Immaculate Conception – clear evidence of the ultramontanism of the 19th century Jesuits), is known for its liturgies. And the feast of Pentecost was no exception. I was struck by the difference between two Sundays, the earlier in Dodoma and more recently in London. But I am equally struck by the similarities. You can go most anywhere in the world, I suspect, and have difficulty understanding most of the language of the liturgy – except for two words that seem pretty universal: alleluia, an expression of praise, and amen, “thus may it be.” Not bad to have those two words in common, eh?
I received today a calendar from Sossy. The reality of this is hitting me – it’s a big project, but with all the support that has been pledged to me, I’m sure I’ll manage and equally sure the school will do well (that should be plural: schools! – don’t forget the high school, Peter Claver, is just the first institution of the Our Lady Queen of Peace Educational Centre, which will also include a teachers college and a post-secondary vocations school).
The evening before I left Dar, I was talking to Damas, who was back in Dar for some business after returning home to western Tanzania for a week. He had been involved in opening St. Ignatius Primary School in Dodoma. As he recounted this, I asked him why he wasn’t the one to work on OLQP – he has obvious expertise. He had a very sensible response: because he is doing something else and further if he were to do it that would mean I wouldn’t be. I protested, mentioning that he knows how to handle all the governmental bureaucracy involved, and he responded that he learned that as a result of opening a school and soon I would be learning, too. Mind you, it’s not that I have cold feet about this – not at all – it’s just hard for me to imagine how it is that I got caught in the crosshairs of providence.
I’ve been in London the last couple of days. I’ve come down with a small cold (as not infrequently happens after flying) so spent the first day resting, really – walks in Hyde Park, reading, etc. Today I walked from the Farm Street Jesuit Community (after a near miss, got a room at this in-demand spot for guests) in the Mayfair neighborhood to the Tate (Millbank); I’ll go to the opposite side of the Thames tomorrow for the Tate modern, which museum I love. On Wednesday I'll repeat something I did during my first visit to London in 2001: visit Christopher-Wren designed churches. Wednesday evening I'm out to dinner with colleague and friend Fr. Tom Batsis, O. Carm. We've promised forever to go out to dinner -- and it happens in London.
The parish Church here, commonly referred to as the Farm Street Church (but dedicated to the Immaculate Conception – clear evidence of the ultramontanism of the 19th century Jesuits), is known for its liturgies. And the feast of Pentecost was no exception. I was struck by the difference between two Sundays, the earlier in Dodoma and more recently in London. But I am equally struck by the similarities. You can go most anywhere in the world, I suspect, and have difficulty understanding most of the language of the liturgy – except for two words that seem pretty universal: alleluia, an expression of praise, and amen, “thus may it be.” Not bad to have those two words in common, eh?
I received today a calendar from Sossy. The reality of this is hitting me – it’s a big project, but with all the support that has been pledged to me, I’m sure I’ll manage and equally sure the school will do well (that should be plural: schools! – don’t forget the high school, Peter Claver, is just the first institution of the Our Lady Queen of Peace Educational Centre, which will also include a teachers college and a post-secondary vocations school).
The evening before I left Dar, I was talking to Damas, who was back in Dar for some business after returning home to western Tanzania for a week. He had been involved in opening St. Ignatius Primary School in Dodoma. As he recounted this, I asked him why he wasn’t the one to work on OLQP – he has obvious expertise. He had a very sensible response: because he is doing something else and further if he were to do it that would mean I wouldn’t be. I protested, mentioning that he knows how to handle all the governmental bureaucracy involved, and he responded that he learned that as a result of opening a school and soon I would be learning, too. Mind you, it’s not that I have cold feet about this – not at all – it’s just hard for me to imagine how it is that I got caught in the crosshairs of providence.
Thank You
I've received so many emails from friends and friends of friends offering to help with this project. I really appreciate it.
I hope that my posts have communicated two things that have to be seen together because without the two the picture is incomplete: (1) the incredible need, and (2) the amazing hope. These two things make what I'm embarking on the great adventure that it is.
I'm happy so many folks are eager to put themselves in the crosshairs with me. As I mentioned in an earlier post, we all do what we can.
Thanks, and God bless.
P.S. I'll be in touch!
I hope that my posts have communicated two things that have to be seen together because without the two the picture is incomplete: (1) the incredible need, and (2) the amazing hope. These two things make what I'm embarking on the great adventure that it is.
I'm happy so many folks are eager to put themselves in the crosshairs with me. As I mentioned in an earlier post, we all do what we can.
Thanks, and God bless.
P.S. I'll be in touch!
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