Those who profess the Catholic faith have a particular mindset, which I like to call “thinking Catholic.” It is a mindset that includes attitudes about the world, about the people around them, about possessions, prayer and spiritual maturity that all grow out of their faith and color the way they think. Part of being Catholic is having a Catholic mindset.

There are also specific religious behaviors (“practicing Catholic”) that arise from Catholic faith and tradition and which, taken together, constitute a way of being religious in an authentically and consciously Catholic fashion. Catholics go to Mass on Sunday and “get married in the church” and are devoted to Mary and the saints. They carry out a whole lifetime agenda of Catholic practices.

The bedrock on which Catholic thinking and Catholic practice rest, however, is the Catholic faith itself. The faith is not a matter of Catholics putting together for themselves some selection of generic beliefs but of “believing Catholic,” of believing as the church believes, of believing as Christ taught. The belief of Catholics is not a set of beliefs that Catholics construct, but a sharing in the life of Christ.

(Excerpt from Archbishop Daniel E. Pilarczyk, Being Catholic: How We Believe, Practice, and Think, pg. vii (Franciscan Media, Cincinnati, 2006)

Not being a part of the inner circle, I’m not quite sure when it became both acceptable and appropriate to nurture and stroke the egos of individuals that practice man’s inhumanity to man. I can assure you it was done without my permission.

We are about to enter into the Lenten Season. Since hunger and homelessness fall under the heading of man’s inhumanity to man…why not attempt to make some changes.

If your Almsgiving is only to appease your conscious, write a check to one of the local soup kitchens or food banks. If your Almsgiving is truly heartfelt…write a check…monthly. On the other hand if you want to truly elevate your consciousness, get a group of like-minded individuals together and call Pat Wakim, Executive Director of the Over-The-Rhine and Walnut Hills Soup Kitchens and Pantry and volunteer to cover one of the vacant meal slots she has in her schedule.

Get your hands dirty, practice a little heavy lifting. If exercise was one of your New Year’s resolutions, stirring a six gallon pot of rice will provide all the upper-body exercise you require for the week.

Carry a plate of food and juice for a wheelchair bound homeless person. Watch as the line forms outside prior to the doors opening no matter what the weather conditions and temperature. See the light expand in the eyes of a small child who may not have seen a cookie all week.

I’ve been cooking every fifth Sunday at the Walnut Hills Soup kitchen for years. I now serve on its board.

We are a small group of women of African descent. We are concerned and dedicated to the well-being of our fellow man. My first-born son was present day one. My youngest has been working since he was ten along with his cousins and aunts. It is a most rewarding family outing.

I do understand how hunger and homelessness expanded in this society. The first generations of homeless were the mentally ill, addicts and individuals that mirror my image. Society’s throw-a-ways. Now there’s a new movie with a new cast of characters. Today’s stars have blue eyes and blond hair. They are the elders of our communities, the children…our future. A child attending school daily in the absence of breakfast, going to bed three or more nights a week without dinner…will not be Steve Jobs in 2025.

Take a good look around you and get a visual of how man’s inhumanity to man has plagued this society. Stop the madness…FEED THE HUNGRY!

As a former radio news journalist I truly love to write…it’s just now I get to write about what I’m really passionate about: God’s unconditional love. While I had great enjoyment in serving the people of the Cincinnati area as a radio news anchor…my soul soon got buried and numbed by the avalanche of bad news. It was a matter of time before God would convince me that there was another place for me where I could do a greater good in spreading the Good News.

I think we all share the desire expressed in the scripture verse above. For me…it led to following this inner yearning to a new profession and calling. While the scripture is profoundly true, I’m afraid most people might be quite unaware of it! Everyone is yearning…pining for something. Our hearts and flesh are crying out for something to satisfy us! Isn’t this true for you? The problem is that most people try to satisfy and fulfill this yearning and longing with the three “P’s”: possessions, power and prestige.” But these things will only satisfy the constant craving temporarily…before the yearning will be even more intense. That’s because the yearning isn’t for something physical, emotional or psychological…but for something spiritual.

God made each of us with a yearning that only God can fill. When we empty ourselves of our egos’ desires…God has the opportunity to fill us. When we die to ourselves…we paradoxically find ourselves. This is impossible without practicing contemplative prayer. God is as close as our very breath and loves us no matter what we may have done in the past. Take a few minutes to simply be silent and to be aware of your breathing. God is present…and that Presence just might change your life. It did for me. See what happens.

I was not among those wizards, geeks and even ordinary folk that celebrated this technological Pentecost. No! I resisted the temptation to join the throngs of enthusiasts who we often catch gazing into colorful screens oblivious of the happenings around them. I was content with a laptop on my desk where for years I have composed countless homilies, retreats and e-mails. That was… until this Christmas.

This Christmas, one of the families in the parish gifted me a Kindle Fire. I was neither amused nor excited. Like Moses, I felt pressured to proceed to a place I was resisting. The kindle lay unwrapped for days. I did not carry it on my anticipated vacation to India. When I returned the Kindle was exactly where I left it – the draw in the study. I initially picked it up to beat my jet lag. To counter my sleepless hours at night I began toying with the idea of stepping into the unknown.

It happened the third night; I discovered that the Divine office was available on Kindle. To have all the hours in front in audio and video format was my latest ah-ha moment. The Pentecost finally came to me. My liberation was not the technological kind but that I did not have to navigate the complex pages of four volumes of the Divine office. I could miraculously find the entire days prayer in one place no matter what the season, feast or solemnity. Normally, I pray the Divine office once a day. But now, at parking lots and doctor’s office and almost anywhere I find myself praying the Divine Office. Should I state the obvious? My prayer life has dramatically changed. I am in the technological and spiritual Promised Land.

I often pray the well-known prayer: “Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in them the fire of your love.” I did not know that the Holy Spirit would answer literally.

Comments?

PS: Got an iPad, iPhone or a droid phone? Check out Fr. Satish’s homily and daily reflection App by searching Ite Missa Est or itemissaest. Also try www.itemissaest.org.

Picture provided by SurgeWorks, used with permission.

Anyway, on to my Ash Wednesday story. Standing near the sidewalk outside church after the noon Mass on Ash Wednesday, I heard a voice. It was coming out of an open window by the driver’s seat of the city Metro bus #28, “Hey, Father!” He had stopped the bus, and the traffic behind him, right in front of church, in the eastbound lane.

As I stepped off the curb, the traffic in the westbound lane stopped, too. I got to the bus and was standing on the double yellow line in my purple vestments, as he continued, “It’s Ash Wednesday, and I can’t get to Mass today.” I didn’t have the ashes with me, but … instinctively (and playfully) I reached to my forehead, wiped off my ashes with my finger, and reached toward his head hanging out the window, “Remember that you are dust. Get moving!”

He was as pleased as could be as he drove off, as were the people in the cars and trucks behind him when he started moving again. Thankfully, no one else expected a drive-through imposition of ashes.

Yes, I know that for him the distribution and reception of ashes was not preceded by an appropriate Liturgy of the Word, but Jesus might say, “The ashes are made for man, not man for the ashes.”

The weeks of Lent originated as a preparation time for those about to be baptized at Easter. Lent’s baptismal focus has been recovered as the final preparation for the elect, but it also serves as a reminder to all of us who are already baptized of our commitment to follow Jesus. “The Lenten liturgy disposes both catechumens and the faithful to celebrate the paschal mystery: catechumens, through the several stages of Christian initiation; the faithful, through reminders of their own baptism and through penitential practices” (General Norms for the Liturgical Year, n. 27).

While we’ll pray with a new translation for most of the Ash Wednesday liturgy, one familiar line has remained the same: “Remember that you are dust and to dust you will return.” Although this admonition may seem morbid to some, the first word in particular highlights the meaning of what we are called to do during Lent: remember.

Lent calls us to remember, to put things in the proper perspective. In light of the ashes on our heads, the dust to which we shall return, the liturgy reminds us to be concerned with what really matters in life, the life that will survive death. Being reminded that “you can’t take it with you” offers us a chance to cast a critical look at the actions and attitudes that absorb our time. Are we living as baptized Christians promise to live?

Lent calls us to remember. Remembering is not always easy. It may put us in conflict with the evil in ourselves and in our world that keep us off track, off target. In fact, the verb “to sin” in Greek means just that: to miss the mark. During this season, we Christians are given the opportunity to examine our lives in light of our baptism, to see where we may be missing the mark and to remember what is deepest in our hearts and in our world, the unconditional forgiving love of God.

To be reminded of sin and ashes is not cheery either. A call to conversion is a great thing, and don’t get me wrong – I genuinely love Lent – just not on my birthday. On my birthday I want abundance and feasting and cake (with a baby hidden in it or not; it doesn’t make a difference to me).

And then, the day after the celebration of my life, I am happy to reflect more deeply on where exactly my life is going. Where am I in my relationship with God, with the people that I love, with strangers, and with the people that I don’t love well at all? Of what in my life do I need to take stock? What should I clean out and release in order to simplify? And how can I make the most of simplicity so that I can grow closer to God? This year I got to spend a day eating cake and celebrating, and now I can spend the next day (and the next forty days) soul searching.

One of the things I love about being Catholic is that our faith really does encompass everything – from feasting to fasting, from celebrating and repenting, and all of the ordinary stuff in between. There’s room for all of that, and there’s a need for all of that. Some people seem to think that being a person of faith means being serious all of the time, giving up fun and indulgence, and that’s not my experience at all. To me, living Catholic is to relish a faith tradition that has room for it all – the highs the lows and the middles.

So, God is not just with us for Mardi Gras but for Ash Wednesday, for celebrating and reflection, for death as well as life. As we march along this soul searching journey of Lent, we have a chance to live the faith that gives us it all, and we can be in the journey to the cross because we know there’s room for resurrection too.

As I reflect on all that our faith has to offer, I am left with a lingering question, though – now that it’s Lent, what do I do with the leftover cake?

Lent is a good time to reflect on charity and the divine “fiats” asked of us – even if it’s 5:45 in the morning.

Mary had her fiat moment – her time to say “yes” or “no” to God. When the Angel Gabriel appeared to her and asked whether she would become the Mother of God, she had the choice in that moment to accept or decline.

She, of course, gave her fiat, her “yes,” and the future of man was changed forever into eternity.

We all have these moments – when God presents us with a choice. Do we take this action or that one? Do we make this choice or that choice? Do we help this person or walk away? Each of these decisions, most of which are instantaneous in nature, can forever alter our lives and those of others.

My wife and I had one of these decisions three days before Christmas.

We are the incredibly blessed parents of a 10-year old and an 8-year old. A while back, we decided to open our home to foster children. We discussed it, researched it, prayed about it, and finally went through the certification process. It was a well-thought out and planned decision.

On November 29^th, we were officially licensed. Not more than 24 hours later, my wife called me to tell me that they were bringing over a newborn that needed a home. While we can decline any placement, my wife and I had decided that we wanted infants so there was no decision involved here. Of course, we wanted him. Two hours after the call, “Peanut” came to live with us – all of 5 days old and 5 pounds of infectious joy and light.

Then life got interesting.

Three days before Christmas, our phone rang – at 5:45 in the morning. My wife missed the call but saw the caller ID and called back. It was a case manager from Children Services. She had a 4-year old boy who needed an immediate home.

“Yes” or “No?”

Clearing our heads, we looked at each other. We had just gotten Peanut. We didn’t know if we should take on a second child. Our preference was to have infants. A 4-year old would take some faith.

“Yes” or “No?”

In the silence of the morning, we heard the whisper of the Holy Spirit. It was clear, firm and unhesitant.

“Yes.”

By sunrise, “Firecracker” became a member of our family, bringing another source of infectious joy and light (and a few challenges) along with him.

We doubled our family in three weeks. In adding a fourth child, our home life has become a good sort of topsy-turvy. We have been blessed.

We don’t know how long they will be with us, but all of our lives have been forever altered. Our hearts filled with an eternal grace.

All because we gave an instantaneous “yes.” We gave our fiat.

As the Church heads into Lent, all of us will be presented with these moments to offer charity and love. Our lives and those of others will be forever altered by our response – by how we answer God’s question to us.

“Yes” or “No?”

Painting: Annunciation by El Greco (1541-1614)

The season of Lent was likewise: we Catholics came home from Church with ashes on our foreheads. We didn’t eat meat at all except on Sunday and the adults “fasted” all of Lent except on Sunday. Everyone gave up something for Lent: kids candy and sweets, adults smoking, television (except Bishop Sheen, of course) or some favorite activity. We were special and those Protestants were not quite as worthy as we Catholics.

With the coming of the Second Vatican Council much of this changed. The rules were eased; the regulations not so strict, and we were encouraged to choose a penance that was more personal and related to our own situation. What seemed to happen was that many of us, in escaping the rigor, forgot Lent’s purpose almost entirely.

When I became a Director of Religious Education at Immaculate Conception Parish in 1980, I was still in the mode of giving up things for Lent. I was put in charge of the RCIA (Rite of Christian of Adults) and began to work with this “new thing” as one of the earliest practitioners exploring its meaning and what to do with it. We slowly introduced the parish to the Rite of Sending, the Rite of Election, the Scrutinies, and the rites of handing on the Our Father and the Creed. Lent began to take on a new meaning with an attitude that made it a different kind of “spring” (the word “Lent” means “spring”) than my Lents of old. It has to do with the Sacrament of Initiation (Baptism, Confirmation, and Eucharist); it is called the time of “purification and enlightenment,” which means for the catechumens (those to be baptized at the Easter Vigil) preparing their lives to receive/live those sacraments. For we who are baptized it means to look at our lives in the light of how we live our baptism now.

The three themes of this approach to Lent are prayer, fasting and almsgiving; asking ourselves how we do these essential tasks of being Christian. Thus Lent can mean giving up those things that hinder us in these tasks, maybe giving up television time to pray. Or something like the University of Dayton campus ministry web site presented several years ago: the idea of “fasting from words” for Lent. It suggested ways of reflecting on how we speak in our daily life. I was personally challenged to ask myself about my use of words as care for others rather than gossip or creating quiet time to prepare to speak thoughtfully in my conversation.

Thus Lent becomes not just a time of “giving up,” but also a time of “growing up” as a Christian person in relationship to the God who loves me and us all. This is in many ways much more difficult than following those rules issued from on high when I was growing up.

As I entered my teenage years, especially after Confirmation, I started reflecting on the point of fasting – or better yet, questioning the very idea. What’s the point of giving things up? Does it make me a better person? Does it bring me closer to God? Does it make me more compassionate or kind? Now that I’m a little older I find that these questions are still key to my observance of Lent. However, I don’t ask out of teenage rebellion, but rather a desire to be able to say “yes” for an answer.

My current thoughts on observing Lent have more to do with evaluating my relationships with God, others and myself. Am I living in right relationship with God? With others? With myself? And the next step would be seeking to weed out that which is damaging to those relationships. Lent is a time of conversion – change – growth. And a key to that is fasting.

The prophet Isaiah states:

This, rather, is the fasting that I wish: releasing those bound unjustly, untying the thongs of the yoke; setting free the oppressed, breaking every yoke; sharing your bread with the hungry, sheltering the oppressed and the homeless; clothing the naked when you see them and not turning your back on your own. Then your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your wound shall quickly be healed. (Isaiah 58: 6 – 8a)

This, I believe, is what it means to be in right relationship. Who are those bound unjustly and how can I assist in the solution? How am I held captive or oppressed by unhealthy habits and selfishness? How do I offer welcome and shelter to those looking for a safe space? Do I really need all the clothes or shoes in my closet? Is it necessary that I spend $5 on coffee when food pantries and shelters need more support than ever? And what I am doing to help change the systems that lead to those situations? These questions are what inform my fasting and approach to Lent.

What about you? What are you giving up for Lent?