The Kidnapped Colombia

- John Angée, artist

In preparation for the celebration of the feast of St. Maximilian Kolbe, Randy requested input from outside sources about Kolbe and his life. One of the responses came from a group in Colombia who offer themselves in exchange for persons kidnapped by rebels. This was their response.

El 14 de Agosto se recuerda y celebra la vida de Maximiliano KOLBE. Unidos a todos los secuestrados, Operación Kolbe, iniciativa de largo aliento, quiere renovar su ofrecimiento por la libertad.

Hemos expuesto un óleo titulado: “La Patria secuestrada” de John Angée (USA 2007) a la entrada del edificio Pedro Arrupe (Facultad de Teología) de la Pontificia Universidad Javeriana de Bogotá y seguimos alentando a Relevos, Orantes y Difusores para que se mantengan en la firme de decisión de acompañar solidariamente a tantos hombres y mujeres que siguen en cautiverio y a sus familiares y amigos.

No sabemos si algún día esta propuesta sea aceptada, pero sabemos, sí, que no descansaremos hasta ver en libertad al número desconocido de hermanos y hermanas que dramáticamente y en silencio nos piden no olvidarlos.

OPERACION KOLBE 2008
COLOMBIA

RESPONDER A:  operacionkolbe@hotmail.com

[On August 14 we remember and celebrate the life of Maximilian Kolbe. United with all those kidnapped, Operation Kolbe, a long term enterprise, wishes to renew its offer for liberty.

We have exhibited an oil painting titled: "The Kidnapped Colombia" by John Angée (USE 2007) at the entrance of the Pedro Arrupe building (Department of Theology) of the Pontificia Universidad Javeriana (Xavier Pontifical University) in Bogotá and we continue to encourage those who serve as Relief, those who Pray and Broadcasters to remain firm in their decision to accompany in solidarity the many men and women who remain in captivity and their family and friends.

We do not know if one day this offer will be accepted, but we know that, yes, we will not rest until we see the return to freedom of the unknown number of brothers and sisters who dramatically and in silence ask us not to forget them.

Operation KOLBE 2008

We can be reached at: operacionkolbe@hotmail.com

Translation by Kathy Pozos]

Thank you for your response. We will keep you and all kidnap victims and political prisoners in our prayers.

St. Romuald the Abbot was born around 950 into a powerful, wealthy family. He entered a Benedictine monastery at the age of 20. He had lived the life of a powerful, wealthy young man until the day he had to serve as his father’s “second” in a duel with a relative over a piece of land. His father killed the opponent, but Romuald was so horrified by the experience that he turned away from the life he had been living.

Once in the monastery, he found that he was attracted by the life of a hermit, more than to the communal life of the monastery as he was experiencing it at Sant’ Apollinare in Classe. He spent most of his life moving back and forth between monastic life and the life of the hermit, traveling from monastery to monastery and leading reforms. He eventually founded a new community who combined those two forms of religious life, the Camaldolese order.

St. Romuald developed a “Brief Rule” of how to live in openness to God.

Sit in your cell as in paradise. Put the whole world behind you and forget it. Watch your thoughts like a good fisherman watching for fish.

The path you must follow is in the Psalms: never leave it. If you have just come to the monastery, and in spite of your good will you cannot accomplish what you want, then take every opportunity to sing the Psalms in your heart and to understand them in your mind.

And if your mind wanders as you read, do not give up: hurry back and apply your mind to the words once more.

Realize above all that you are in God’s presence, and stand there with the attitude of one who stands before the emperor.

Empty yourself completely and sit waiting, content with the grace of God, like the chick who tastes nothing and eats nothing but what his mother gives him.

St. Romuald’s rule may seem like it has no relationship whatsoever to the lives of most of us – those called to life as men and women, married and single, in the contemporary world - earning our living, raising our families, trying to do our little bit to make the world a better place for everyone. Yet there are elements of his rule that are applicable to all of our lives. We’re called both to a relationship with God and to engagement with the world.

A challenge many of us face is finding a place where we won’t be observed or disturbed by anyone. I remember the amusement of a group of my parents’ friends who discovered a Bible in the bathroom of mutual friends. It was the only place in that home where a parent could have a few minutes of privacy to read the word of God. I remember the religious magazines and books kept for reading in the same room in the homes of my grandparents and other relatives. These people knew that time for the Lord is precious and is to be snatched wherever possible.

Today, we have so many means of communication and response is expected so quickly, that even walking by the beach without having a telephone along can be seen as selfish and/or anti-social. We forget that paradise begins here when we open to the Lord. Our alone place may have to be the bathroom. It may be standing at the kitchen sink washing dishes. It may be driving home from work. The essential thing is to find a few quiet moments somewhere each day.

St. Romuald recommends praying with the Psalms. That’s really good advice and easier than it might seem. Many of the songs we use in liturgy are taken directly from the Psalms. Let the songs from Church run through your head during the day. There are songs/Psalms for all occasions. Then as now, they help turn our focus to the Lord.

“Realize above all that you are in God’s presence…” There’s not much to add to that. The trick is to remember and be open to see and experience that reality. Then all we need will be provided, just as the chick who receives food from its mother. We still have to work. But the work we do takes on a bigger, broader meaning when it is tied to God’s presence in the world and to our call to make that presence visible through our lives.

May peace and joy be yours.

I must confess that I never knew much about St. Boniface until I began to do a little research about him today. My maternal Grandmother’s home parish was St. Boniface in Uniontown, Washington. So his name was familiar to me, but not any details of his life.

Uniontown was, and still is, a very small town in the middle of fertile farmlands. People spoke mostly German there when Grammy was a girl in the years leading up to World War I. Sermons at Mass were always in German, a language she did not speak well because her parents did not speak the same versions of German. They spoke English at home. (She could never understand why we complained about bad homilies when we were kids. After all, at least they were in English so we could understand them!) Uniontown was settled largely by Catholic German immigrants. They chose the patron of their former homeland as patron of their local community.

St. Boniface is known as the Apostle of Germany and is its patron saint. He was born in England around 672 and named Winfrid. He studied at Benedictine monasteries near Exeter and Nursling in the diocese of Winchester. He was noted for being a fine student and scholar, compiling a Latin Grammar during his time there.

In 716 he set off to Frisia to convert the residents of that area. However, there was a war raging in Frisia at the time and people were otherwise occupied. So he returned home without success. In 718 he traveled to Rome and in 719 Pope Gregory II gave him the name Boniface and commissioned him to return to Germany to evangelize and reorganize the church there. He also learned from people who had been working already among the German tribes how best to reach them. He spent most of the rest of his life working in Germany.

The felling of Thor’s Oak at Frizlar in northern Hesse is one of the stories told of his work. In the presence of leaders of the local people, he called on Thor to strike him dead if he destroyed an oak tree sacred to Thor. Then he began to chop down the tree.  A great wind blew the tree down. Thor did not strike down Boniface, so the people became Christians. Boniface used some of the wood from the tree to build a chapel at the site.

Boniface chopped down other oak trees dedicated to Thor as well, in challenges to the ancient pre-Christian religion. It is said that at Geismar, there was a fir tree growing out of the roots of the oak tree that fell. Boniface told the people, “This humble tree’s wood is used to build your homes: let Christ be at the centre of your households. Its leaves remain evergreen in the darkest days: let Christ be your constant light. Its boughs reach out to embrace and its top points to heaven: let Christ be your Comfort and Guide”. The German tradition of using evergreen trees in the celebration of Christmas may have come from this event. (Think of him next time you see a Christmas tree!)

The years in which Boniface lived and worked were far from peaceful. Battles raged between the Franks, the non-Christian Saxons, and the northern Germanic tribes. Struggles for power over the church by civil authorities and for independence from civil authority by church leaders were common. The conversion of the Germanic tribes was part of the process that eventually led to their incorporation into Charlemagne’s empire. In 754, while again working to convert the Frisians, Boniface was killed by a group of brigands.

It seems fitting that Boniface was chosen as patron of the church at Uniontown. Many Catholic Germans who came to the United States during the 19th century did so as religious refugees. It wasn’t something they spoke about much. My grandparents weren’t sure why their parents or grandparents had come here, except they knew the men came so they would not have to serve in the Kaiser’s army. But from an old German Dominican nun, my mother learned that many came because their only choice at home was to convert to the Protestant religion of their new ruler, the Kaiser, or to worship secretly in defiance of the curfews. The young men came because they would have to leave the Catholic church when they were drafted into the Kaiser’s army. They chose to leave instead, bringing their faith with them to little towns like Uniontown all over the United States. Once here, they chose St. Boniface to continue to be their patron.

The “Book of Signs” in the Gospel of St. John begins with the story of John the Baptist - the Baptist’s statement of his own role in preparing the way of the Lord and his witness to the role of Jesus. John the Baptist saw Jesus coming and told his disciples, “Behold the Lamb of God …” He also admitted to them, “I did not know him … but the one who sent me to baptize with water told me, ‘On whomever you see the Spirit come down and remain, he is the one who will baptize with the holy Spirit.’” (Jn 1: 29, 33) Based on the Baptist’s testimony, Andrew, brother of Simon Peter, and John, son of Zebedee, followed after Jesus and became his first disciples.

How truly even today we do not recognize the Lord came clearly to me about this time seventeen years ago. My husband and I had two wonderful sons, and we had been hoping to have another child. Everything seemed to point to it being the right time and I had become pregnant as we hoped. Then in mid-January, it all fell apart. The baby in my womb died. We found out the news on a Saturday, but there was no need to do anything immediately, so the decision was made to wait until Monday to arrange for further treatment.

We went ahead and took down our Christmas tree. We had the birthday party for our firstborn, with most of his classmates attending, as we had planned. And on Monday morning, as symptoms of the miscarriage appeared, we went to Kaiser and I had the procedure to complete the process.

It was a very difficult time. We had very much wanted that child. And it was not to be.

The previous year, we had received a free overnight stay at a nice hotel up in the California wine country, to be used at a time of our choice. So we decided to go there a week or so later. That evening, I went for a walk through the courtyard by myself. I was praying. It wasn’t easy to pray during those couple of weeks. I asked the Lord, “Where have you been?” And I received his response in a series of images of faces that came into my mind. The couple who had stayed into the evening after the birthday party, so we wouldn’t have to be alone with our sorrow. The nurse who did the preliminary exam and shared that she too had lost a baby, but now had a healthy child. Another nurse who held my hand and told me it was OK to cry, as the procedure began. The doctor who was so kind and gentle. My parents, who sent flowers. They had never sent flowers before that day, but they did when I needed them. The other relatives who sent cards and plant arrangements. My son’s teacher, herself a young widow, who came after school and spent a couple of hours with me, just being there.

As all of these images and memories came to me, I knew where Jesus had been. He was right there, in his body, the People of God, the Mystical Body of Christ, about whom I had learned as a child. He was with me.

Behold the Lamb of God. Like John the Baptist, I did not recognized him when he came in person through all those wonderfully kind and thoughtful people. But the Lord is kind, and, like the Baptist, I got a second chance to recognize him – in the images of their faces that came to me that night.

Where is the Lamb of God in your life today? Keep your eyes and ears open. He is here, hoping you’ll recognize him in those around you. He’s here, too, hoping you’ll be helping him today to reach those who need his touch today.

Behold the Lamb of God!

The third Sunday after Christmas is the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord. On this day we recall that Jesus went out to the Jordan River, where his cousin John was baptizing, and himself entered into the water to be baptized. All four of the gospels tell of this event, in which the Spirit of the Lord came to rest upon Jesus, like a dove. Matthew, Mark and Luke tell us that a voice spoke from the heavens, saying, “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.” John tells us that John the Baptist told his disciples, “Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world.”

Jesus’ baptism was a life changing event for him. He went out into the desert to pray and to ponder and absorb the immensity of what had been revealed to Him as He stood in the water with John. This experience of coming to know that He is God’s Beloved Son was the foundation for His entire ministry. When He returned from the desert, He began going among the people and spreading the Good News that God cares about what happens to people here and now, that God loves even the most insignificant person, that loving actions speak louder that pious prayers, that joy and peace are signs of the presence of God.

Each of us, in our own baptisms, have been given the gift of sharing in the life and work of Jesus. This feast is a reminder to us of that great gift and of the fact that our response is to be like that of Jesus – to go out now and share the same Good News through our actions in our daily lives, with peace and joy and love.

Darwin’s Tortoises on the Galapagos Islands

On January 3, 2008, The National Academy of Sciences issued a new publication Science, Evolution and Creationism advocating the teaching of evolution as the primary scientific understanding underlying contemporary biology. Many religious conservatives advocate the teaching of Creation Science in the public schools as an alternative to evolution. The core of the controversy for those who interpret the Bible literally is the fact that the theory of evolution contradicts the creation account in Genesis, which states that God made all of creation in six days and rested on the seventh.

Many want Creationism, or at least the theory of intelligent design, to be presented to students along with evolution.

Unfortunately, it is a false controversy. If we look at the issue from the standpoint of epistemology – the philosophical study of knowledge and truth – faith and science are looking at entirely different things. Science attempts to explain things in terms of matter and energy, based on experiments which can be repeated to produce the same results. The uses we make of science are called technology. The same methods that cause the light to turn on when we use the wall switch are the methods that indicate a very long history of planetary and biological development.

Holy Scripture is the inspired writing of believers for believers about the meaning and significance of God in our lives. Archaeologists and scripture scholars use the same methods of science that we depend on to design and operate cars, airplanes, and space ships. They use these methods to tell us how people lived at the times these documents were written and when they were probably written. These same scientific methods helps us understand the ancient languages and cultures of the time. Consequently we – as believers – understand the scriptures differently.

Much of the problem, as I see it, is the focus of Calvinism and the Anabaptist movement on “sola scriptura,” using the Scriptures as the sole authority for matters of faith and Christian living. This approach – barely 500 years old – is fairly new and radical in the history of Christianity. In order to re-create a church free of bishops, popes, and patriarchs, and to jettison many of the teachings contained in tradition, the reformers adopted a reformed version of the Bible.

It is interesting to note that from the very beginning, the fathers of the Church had two books: the collection of writings which the church assembled and approved in the fourth century and the book of nature.

I’ve had a radical thought. Why not teach philosophy in the public schools? We could teach the history and philosophy of science. Unfortunately, I give my bright idea slim odds, because many religious conservatives are wary of the liberal arts, including philosophy and theology, for the same reason many scientists are. From the standpoint of the liberal arts, the world is less certain and more open to questioning both scientific and biblical teaching.

There are many wonderful movies and stories associated with Christmas. Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol,” the famous Frank Capra movie, It’s a Wonderful Life,  starring James Stewart and Donna Reed, and other stories from around the world, depict the coming of grace and peace in the darkness of poverty, hunger, disillusionment and despair. They have happy endings but are very dark.

These stories and movies are an apt testimony to the theology of Christmas in its broader context. They are reminders of hope, joy, and peace. There is also the darker side of Christmas for billions around the globe lost in starvation, oppression, and loneliness.

Generally, Christmas is a day reserved for family and close friends, but you might want to re-think that. Christmas miracles are something you can do on December 25th and other days. Remember that old acquaintance or friend with mental health problems? How about a quick call, a card, or a short letter? Do you know someone far from home? Someone in prison? In the hospital? Suffering from cancer or HIV/AIDS? How about doing something special like a card with a personal note? Mrs. Jones up the street with very few visitors probably wouldn’t mind a brief visit or a quick hello. A small celebration for international students can ease the pain of Christmas away. For non-Christian international students, it is a wonderful experience of joyous hospitality.

We have 12 special days of Christmastide to be miracle workers. As tiny Tim said “God bless us everyone.”

In keeping with the feast day of St. Francis Cabrini – November 13 – this history of Italian immigrants in their own words gives an insight into a group of people who contributed much more to the world than their physical labor.

The Value of Worthless Lives
Writing Italian-American Immigrant Autobiographies
Ilaria Serra

Fordham University Press
244 pages
February 2007

The H-Net Discussion List on International Catholic History [H-CATHOLIC@H-NET.MSU.EDU] published a review by Anthony Riccio of the Sterling Library, Yale University here a couple of paragraphs:
Here we find captivating personal histories of miners who used their good fortunes to help immigrant schoolchildren buy books, political figures who wrote for justice, unskilled laborers who wrote with flair and expressiveness beyond their grammar-school education, a poet/laborer who memorized Webster’s dictionary, and a bricklayer who taught himself how to write and worked with quarantined immigrants at Ellis Island. One excerpt from miner Pietro Riccobaldi’s memoir captures the ethos of the Italian immigrant, the deep sense of family honor and the importance of the family name that formed the basis of a behavioral code Italian immigrants brought from Italy: “I didn’t gather big fortunes, but I have behaved well. I kept faithful to my family’s teachings–I felt a sense of pride”

In chapter 4, “The Spiritual Immigrant,” Serra illuminates another fascinating aspect of the Italian immigrant experience that resulted from the religious freedom America afforded. Serra’s work examines the transformation from the constraints of Old World Catholicism practiced in the Italian village to personal inner journeys and flights to higher spiritual awareness experienced in the New World. Serra’s autobiographies profile the lives of men whose inward pilgrimage led them to become Protestant ministers, evangelicals who returned to their native Italian villages to preach the word of God, and missionaries who converted souls to Catholicism in the American wilderness.

I thank you, my God for having in a thousand

different ways led my eyes to discover the immense

simplicity of things. Little by little, through the irresistible

development of those yearnings you implanted in me

as a child, through the influence of gifted friends

who entered my life at certain moments to bring light

and strength to my mind, and through the awakenings

of spirit I owe to successive initiations, gentle and terrible,

which you cause me to undergo, through all these

I have been brought to the point where I can no longer see

anything, nor any longer breathe, outside the milieu

in which all is made one.

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, S.J.

[Editor's note: Sometimes comments get buried or overlooked. Kathy and I did not want you to miss this reflection on our quote from Thomas Merton from cousin, friend, coach, and eighth grade teacher Andrew Vasquez.]

Thanks Kathy for that beautiful quote! This is my second visit to the site. I am enjoying the thoughtful, insightful writing. I wanted to weigh in earlier, but I was short of time (Surprise, surprise!) Besides, the only thing I’ve really wanted to talk or write about is my daughter’s soccer team, which I just happen to coach. Did I mention that we are undefeated? So, how does this fit into a discussion on cultivating a grateful heart? Suffice it to say that I am grateful to have the opportunity to coach, moreover, coach my daughters! I’m grateful that they show me lots of grace and mercy as I rant and rave on the sidelines, still kidding myself that they are actually listening and willing to respond to me in the heat of “battle.” I could go on and on…

What I really wanted to say was that I have found that when I awake in the morning with a “Good morning, I love you, God Bless you Jesus” on my lips and then actively open my eyes, ears and mind to the manifold blessings He is bestowing on me, even just between the place I brush my teeth to when I get to my classroom and face that first wave of 8th graders, I am not only overwhelmed with thankfulness but I just plain enjoy my day more. The day is full and productive, leaving a lingering feeling of completeness and an anticipation of what tomorrow holds. Now, if I could just string a few more of THOSE days together. It all begins with a simple prayer, yet how easy it is to forget, and neglect that first simple acknowledgement of Him. “Good morning, God Bless, I love you!” It is a simple phrase with great power. It works good with grouchy people we share our homes with too!