Guest's blog

A statement by Bishop J. Kevin Boland on the pope’s letter

Thu, 26 Jul 2007 12:42:10 -0500

By Bishop J. Kevin Boland

On Saturday, July 7, 2007, Pope Benedict XVI issued an Apostolic Letter relaxing restrictions on the use of the Mass that was celebrated by the Catholic Church prior to Vatican Council II. This Mass is the one that follows the Roman Missal promulgated by Blessed John XXIII in 1962. Frequently it is referred to as the Latin Mass.

The Apostolic Letter takes effect on September 14, 2007, the feast of the Triumph of the Holy Cross.

What does issuance of this Apostolic Letter mean for the Diocese of Savannah?

First, the Holy Father clarified that there will be a twofold use of the one Roman rite of the Catholic Church. There will be the ordinary form—the Mass we have been celebrating for the past 40 years—and the extraordinary form—the Mass that was promulgated by Blessed John XXIII in 1962. This Mass is celebrated in Latin.

Presently in the Diocese of Savannah we have at least three priests who are capable of celebrating the extraordinary Mass of the Roman rite. There may be others.

In the city of Savannah the Mass promulgated by Blessed John XXIII is offered bimonthly. Sixty to seventy people attend. Prior to this instruction from Pope Benedict it was necessary for the Bishop to give permission for this Mass to be celebrated. Now any priest (provided he has the necessary skills) may offer this Mass privately. The public may attend if they so wish.

The priest does not need the permission of the Bishop or the Holy See.

We will have to retool and reeducate, and all of this takes time. Many priests know little or any Latin. It will be a challenge, and in some cases they may not wish to celebrate the extraordinary form of the Roman rite. The biggest challenge will be the availability of priests who are knowledgeable enough to celebrate the extraordinary form.

We are deeply committed to do our best to meet the religious needs of the people who are deeply devoted to the Roman rite of the Catholic Mass promulgated by Blessed John XXIII in 1962.

With this new Apostolic letter, the Holy Father, Pope Benedict, has expanded the use of the Roman missal that was in place immediately prior to Vatican Council II. It is a matter of the twofold use of one rite. No matter which form of the rite is used, it is essential that the celebration of Mass be one of great reverence in harmony with the rubrics (directives) which apply to each form. With more availability of the extraordinary rite, there will be a renewed emphasis on celebrating both forms with greater dignity and reverence.

To facilitate and coordinate proper planning and implementation of this Apostolic Letter, I have appointed Monsignor William O. O’Neill as Diocesan Director.

It will take time to put a plan in place. In the meantime, if any priests are interested in developing the necessary skills to celebrate the Mass promulgated by Pope John XXIII, please contact Monsignor O’Neill at (912) 233-4709; or by email at wooneill@aol.com.

Retrouvaille and the decisions to commit and to love

Fri, 06 Jul 2007 14:16:11 -0500

By John and Anne McCormack
We build our marriage by the decisions we make day by day. A marriage relationship is not just saying, "I do" at the wedding ceremony. Instead, the relationship is formed by many "I do's" each day. Retrouvaille teaches that there are four major decisions that we make consistently in a healthy marriage: Our decisions to commit, to love, to forgive, and to trust. In this article we focus on the decisions to commit and to love. Next issue we will write about the decisions to forgive and to trust.

Commitment is a decision
The first decision, initially made by most of us when deciding to marry, is our decision to commit to each other “For as long as we both shall live”. In a Christian marriage, we pledge ourselves for a lifetime: “Until death do us part”.

Commitment is more than just staying in a marriage and enduring each other until the end. Our lifelong commitment affects the way we go about building our relationship from the beginning. When we know we are in this for the long haul, then hopefully we get serious about working on our marriage. Commitment does not mean enduring a life of suffering together and then dying. It means working, sometimes hard, to grow in our capacity to love, cherish, and honor each other.

Commitment gives us staying power. We make positive, determined, stubborn decisions each day to stay together in our times of trouble. We commit to unite after each crisis. We commit to confront the problems and not avoid, avoid, avoid. If commitment sounds like hard work, it is. Commitment takes courage and grace, and couples that struggle together through tough times often plead, “God help me”.

Most of us who have been married long enough to experience difficult times, know that there have been times when we have quit trying to work on our marriage for hours, or days, or weeks, or longer. During difficult times, the decision to commit is made again and again, sometimes daily. Each time we fail as partners, we face a decision: to quit or to get up and try again. The decision to try again is the decision to commit again. It will take both of us, and the one not trying is deadweight.

Love is a decision
Romance and passion is a wonderful and nourishing part of a good marriage. When we feel "in love" it is easy to reach out, to focus on the needs of the other, and to give to the relationship. Romance and passion is God's way of having us begin to be less self-centered and more centered on our partner. When we feel "in love" our partner becomes more important than we are. The relationship is first when we feel “in love.”

However, when love is a feeling, then the only thing we can do is enjoy it when it comes and hope for it to come back soon when it is goes. Feelings come and go. Our feelings of love for each other also come and go. This is the reason it is so important to accept that marital love is a decision, not a feeling. In a nutshell, marital love means I decide to behave toward my spouse in loving ways, in thoughtful ways, and in considerate ways even when I don't feel like it.

Many people think that love is limited to a feeling, but mature love is really an act of the will. It is important to understand that feelings come and go, and that mature love is not determined by our feelings. If it were, then our love would also come and go and would not be very dependable. A deep and lasting love relationship must be based on a deliberate and conscious decision to love daily, despite how we feel.

There are so many daily decisions necessary to keep love alive in our marriage. For example, I decide to love when I reach out with a touch or words to make contact when we feel far apart…when I call to say hello after we parted angrily that morning...when I apologize after I make a mistake or when I hurt you…when I am patient with you even though I feel annoyed…when I listen to you even though I am angry and don't want to.

Marital love is very often the decision to spend time and energy on each other, in spite of feeling overwhelmed by the other commitments in our lives. Any time we make such decisions as these, even when we do not feel like it, but rather because we know these decisions would be good for our marriage, then we are making the decision to love.

You can help your marriage.
Retrouvaille has helped tens of thousands of couples through difficult times. For confidential information about or to register for the September program beginning with a weekend on September 7-9, call 1-800-470-2230.

John and Anne McCormack are the Retrouvaille coordinating couple in the Diocese of Savanah.

Being true to our name

Thu, 10 May 2007 12:00:34 -0500

By Father Michael H. Smith
“Catholic” means universal, open to all. The promise of this name has been more fully realized as the Church in fact has begun to include people from every race and nation of the earth. As Pope John Paul traveled and celebrated Mass all over the world we saw how the Body of Christ was the same and yet very different in the manner each culture celebrates. Now the Church’s leadership includes Bishops and Cardinals from places many of us do not recognize even by name.

Because of this international mission our Catholic Church always tends to respond positively, with the compassion of Christ, to the needs of people around the world to find protection from persecution and oppression, as well as to find opportunities to work and support their families when the conditions in their home countries are seriously lacking in resources. Each year the Feast of the Epiphany is set apart to ponder the plight of the world’s many migrants and refugees. Our annual Catholic Overseas Relief collection during Lent gives our Church in the United States the resources to lend a helping hand.

Now we are invited to think hard about the situation here in our homeland: the plight of the approximately 12 million undocumented workers now in our midst, as well as the urgent needs that impel many from all over the world to keep trying to come and work where they can earn enough to support the basic needs of their families. Many put themselves in harm’s way in this economic war even as our own soldiers are doing in Iraq.

Our bishops have gathered consultants to seek a creative solution through a national campaign called, “Justice for Immigrants—a journey of hope.” On April 17, Rey Morales, diocesan director of Hispanic ministry, and I went to our nation’s capital for two days—despite my having to use a walker because of a recent hip replacement —to become informed about the present situation and to enter into dialogue with our south Georgia representatives and senators. It was my first such experience.

The members of our Church’s team working on this effort were deeply committed and impressively knowledgeable. As we set out for our visits to Congress, one man was able to speak from memory about the votes of each of our lawmakers. We had appointments with staff of Senators Saxby Chambliss and Johnny Isakson as well as Representatives Jack Kingston, Jim Marshall and Sanford Bishop. All made us welcome with Georgia peanuts and Coca-Cola.

Some were focused almost completely on security, controlling our borders. However they also recognized our need for more workers to power our growing economy. One clear answer to both needs was to offer controlled legal entry to a much larger number of persons annually with the number keyed to the level of unemployment. This seems to be a “win-win” response that provides for our need to control our borders as well as opening the door for those in need of work. The thornier question concerns those “undocumented” who are already here. Most recognized that massive deportation is not a viable option so were looking at offering working visas to those with good records of employment and behavior.

There was a sense that this is the time to act or things will only get worse. The White House is working up a proposal, and a new proposal called the “STRIVE” Act has surfaced in the House to replace the very negative bill which passed last year. Our Catholic values encourage family unity, rather than workers only, plus an opportunity over time to work for either permanent residence or citizenship. All our politicians reported much anti-immigrant mail coming to their offices. Catholics are a serious minority, but any messages of encouragement for “comprehensive reform” endorsed by our Bishops, will be a help. It is best to send e-mail or faxes to the legislators as normal letters get bogged down by the capitol’s anthrax inspection system.

One Protestant speaker made us all feel proud to be Catholics when he said, “No other organization has contributed more to helping immigrants make a home here than the Catholic Church. No one knows more about immigrants than the U.S Church. Without you we would not even be anywhere near to a creative solution to our present impasse.”

We Catholics are a small minority, but Jesus told us that God’s Kingdom grows like leaven in the dough, and like the mustard seed. We are invited to ponder the present situation of immigrants in our land prayerfully, and then speak out of the conviction which our Catholic faith offers. In words spoken about migrants on Epiphany 1995, Pope John Paul leaves us a clear call: “Today the illegal migrant comes before us like that ‘stranger’ in whom Jesus asks to be recognized. To welcome him and to show him solidarity is a duty of hospitality and fidelity to Christian identity itself.”

Father Michael H. Smith is pastor of Immaculate Conception Parish, Moultrie, and its mission, Saint John Vianney, Camilla.

World Day of Prayer for Vocations

Tue, 24 Apr 2007 13:10:46 -0500

By Peter Paolucci
In his message this year for the 44th World Day of Prayer for Vocations, to be celebrated on April 29, Pope Benedict XVI highlights the importance of vocations in the life and mission of the Church and asks the faithful to intensify their prayer that they may increase in number and quality. He also draws the attention of the whole people of God to the following theme, which is more topical than ever: the vocation to the service of the Church as communion.

Pope Benedict begins by telling us that, “Jesus, invited the Apostles to be with him and to share his mission when he asked them, ‘Follow me and I will make you become fishers of men!’ At the Last Supper, he entrusted them with the duty of perpetuating the memorial of his death and resurrection until his glorious return at the end of time. The mission of the Church is founded on an intimate and faithful communion with God. This intense communion favors the growth of generous vocations at the service of the Church: the heart of the believer, filled with divine love, is moved to dedicate itself wholly to the cause of the Kingdom.”

He instructs us that in order to foster vocations, “it is important that pastoral activity be attentive to the mystery of the Church as communion because whoever lives in an ecclesial community that is harmonious, co-responsible and conscientious, certainly learns more easily to discern the call of the Lord. The care of vocations, therefore, demands a constant education for listening to the voice of God.”

And he also points out that “faithful listening can only take place in a climate of intimate communion with God which is realized principally in prayer. According to the explicit command of the Lord, we must implore the gift of vocations, in the first place by praying untiringly and together to the ‘Lord of the harvest’. The invitation is in the plural: ‘Therefore pray the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest’ (Matthew 9: 38).”

The Holy Father offers us another perspective of Jesus speaking to his Apostles, “‘If two of you agree on earth about anything they ask, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven’ (Matthew18: 19). The Good Shepherd, therefore, invites us to pray to the heavenly Father, to pray unitedly and insistently, that he may send vocations for the service of the Church as communion.”
Pope Benedict concludes with the idea that “At the centre of every Christian community is the Eucharist, the source and summit of the life of the Church. Whoever places himself at the service of the Gospel, if he lives the Eucharist, makes progress in love of God and neighbour and thus contributes to building the Church as communion. We can affirm that the ‘Eucharistic love’ motivates and founds the vocational activity of the whole Church, because, vocations to the priesthood and to other ministries and services flourish within the people of God wherever there are those in whom Christ can be seen through his Word, in the sacraments and especially in the Eucharist.”

The Eucharist is at the heart of our liturgical life. It should also be at the heart of our daily lives. Giving thanks and receiving Christ shapes our Christian lives. People come to Mass to receive the Lord and go forth inspired to live their lives as true followers of Jesus.

As Catholics we believe that Jesus is really present in the Eucharist. At the consecration when the priest repeats the words of Jesus, “Take and eat: this is my body” and “This is my blood of the covenant, which shall be shed on behalf of many for the forgiveness of sins,” the bread and wine actually changes into the body and blood of Christ. When we receive the Eucharist, we take Jesus into ourselves and also become one with the Father.

Peter Paolucci is vice president for communications of the Savannah Serra Club

Show your appreciation for priests

Wed, 13 Dec 2006 11:17:20 -0600

Today, there are 54 priests of the Diocese of Savannah actively serving in ministry. There are also 16 retired diocesan priests. On June 23, 2007 four transitional deacons will be ordained to the priesthood. That’s the good news. Three of the 54 active priests have already reached retirement age and during this calendar year five more priests will become eligible for retirement. This represents a 50% increase in retired priests in the near future.

It is the responsibility of each diocese to provide financial support to assist its priests in realizing a dignified retirement. This retirement income supplements social security and whatever personal savings an individual priest may have been fortunate enough to accumulate. Unlike his lay counterpart, the diocesan priest has gone without a large base salary his entire ministerial life and, therefore, may not be the beneficiary of a significant monthly social security payment.

For generations many of the retired priests in the Diocese of Savannah lived in rectories throughout the diocese. This approach is now the exception. Accordingly, the diocesan retirement program has become even more critical to the financial well-being of our retired priests.

The retirement program is funded from two sources: a monthly contribution by the parish while a priest is still in active status, and the special second collection on Easter Sunday. This special collection provides approximately 40% of the total retirement program funding.

Last year’s response was overwhelming. The positive manner in which the people elected to show their appreciation to these good men, who have devoted a lifetime of dedicated service to the Church, cannot be overemphasized. It is important that such recognition of service continue.

Last year three of our retired priests died: Father Francis Barry in Ireland, and Fathers Daniel Munn and Andrew Doris in Augusta. The priesthood of these men in active ministry and in retirement was very special. Their deaths leave a significant void in the spiritual landscape of our diocese.

The $190,000 contributed at Easter of 2006 was a significant achievement. It becomes a barometer for the future. On Easter Sunday, April 8, please be generous to those who have dedicated years of ministry to the Diocese of Savannah. In retirement, our priests are reliant on this generosity.

Holiness is within everyone’s reach

Thu, 16 Nov 2006 11:15:37 -0600

By Rachel S. Balducci
Each year, we go to an All Saints Day party in our neighborhood. Because the children dress as their favorite saint, the celebration offers a wonderful opportunity to learn more about the holy men and women (but for our personal research purposes, mostly men) who lived their lives in service to Christ.
This year, as the boys and I were working on their selections, I noticed that we were mostly delving into the pool of our traditional choices: Saint George, slaying the dragon! Saint Sebastian, with arrows sticking out! Saint (insert name here) carrying a (insert weapon here).
One boy, however, was giving me a different answer. And I started to get frustrated with him after asking, several times, who he wanted to be.
“I’m going as myself,” he said.
“Very funny,” I said.
Silence.
“No really,” I said, “What saint do you want to be?”
“Me,” he said plainly. “I want to go as myself.”
I started to lecture him on the lives of the saints, on what it takes to actually be a saint, on what some of these men and women endured out of love for Christ. And how could we, mere mortals, even think we could reach that level of holiness.
I stopped for a minute, after I finished my speech. And I thought: why not?
Why shouldn’t I encourage my child, if he thinks he could actually be a saint, to continue on the path to sainthood. Of course, I wasn’t ready to tell him he had achieved that goal, or that he (or any of us) were anywhere close to where we should be.
But to acknowledge the importance of striving to be a saint – that was an accomplishment in itself. It doesn’t make any of us a saint, but it certainly reminds us that we are called to live like we want to be saints.
Maybe not on any given day at any given time, but it is true that we each have as much potential for becoming a saint as those holy men and women who have gone before us. We do. We don’t necessarily make the choices that lead us down that path, but we could be saints. And at the very least, we should live like we want to be.
In his homily for All Saints Day this year, Father Raniero Cantalamessa, Pope Benedict’s homilist, spoke of the duty of all Christians to strive for sainthood.
“The first thing to do in speaking about holiness is to free the word from the fear it inspires,” he said, “due to some mistaken representations that we make of it. Holiness can entail extraordinary phenomena, but it is not identified with them. If all are called to holiness it is because, properly understood, it is within everyone's reach, it is part of the normality of the Christian life.”
If you read about the lives of the saints, there is a wide range in the details of their lives. Some had great wealth; some were very poor. Some suffered grave injustice. Some lived lives that glorified God in their simplicity. There were mothers, fathers, priests and nuns. There were also alcoholics, victims of abuse, parents of difficult children, and a dunce.
What the saints all had in common was a devotion to Christ and an acute awareness of a profound need for his mercy.
“Do you think you’re a saint,” I asked my son a minute later, in all sincerity. I wanted to know what made him decide to strive for sainthood.
“I don’t think I’m a saint,” he answered. “But I could be.”

Rachel Swenson Balducci is a freelance writer, wife, mother of four sons and a member of Most Holy Trinity Parish, Augusta.

The worst Mother’s Day ever

Wed, 25 Oct 2006 10:58:39 -0500

By Rachel S. Balducci
This past Spring I had the most frustrating Mother’s Day in my nearly ten years as a mother. The agony encompassed a variety of issues that included the food, the weather, and the behavior.
The day before, however, was nearly flawless.
On that day, the weather was perfect. The boys had baseball practice, and while they were gone I gave myself an amazing Mother’s Day gift – I got the laundry totally caught up and put away. We ate lunch at a local seafood restaurant; we sat outside and watched a baseball game on T.V. And the waitress seemed single-minded in her quest for a bottomless cup of Diet Coke for me.
Then we went to the local sports emporium, where for an hour-and-a-half we looked at every square inch of sports equipment you can think of. The boys were in hog-heaven. Later, Paul cooked delicious pasta. At dinner, we passed around a cup of wine and each of us, including the boys, toasted the Lord for his goodness to us. Then Paul taught Ethan and Elliott how to play black-jack.
It was a nearly perfect day.
Except, right at the end of the evening, as the last precious boy was falling into a blissful sleep from a day of perfection, I stepped on a nail sticking out of a stair tread. It tore into my foot, hurt like crazy and ended up requiring me to get an overdue tetanus shot.
The next morning, Mother’s Day, I woke up with a sore foot, three cold sores, and a stiff neck—the kind where if I turned too fast to the right I was in agony and tempted to use harsh language. And it all seemed to go downhill from there (substandard behavior at Mass; poor choice of restaurant for brunch; thunderstorms throughout the day).
I was so tempted to call the weekend a wash, a rip-off! And just when I was about to give it an official title (This Mothers Day: The Official Pits), I remembered how wonderful things were the day before and most of the day before that. And while very few days are totally perfect, very many days are quite good. It’s all in how you assess the situation.
That’s life. That's motherhood and family life. Many times it’s beautiful. But sometimes it’s achingly frustrating. There are seasons that are filled with very few bumps in the road, and seasons that seem to present a new trial every day.
When our youngest was a newborn, for the first few months of his life, I had to break my day into ten-minute intervals. That was my approach to staying sane and happy. If things were going smoothly, hooray! But when things got rough, like all four boys crying at once or me wishing for another pair of hands – then the ten-minute trick helped me stay focused. I could do anything for ten minutes.
While I no longer break my days into miniscule segments, there are still plenty of trying times. On those days when I weigh the highs and lows and come out at a deficit – those are the days when I have to remember God promises not perfection, but simply his love and his presence beside me.
And some days, that has to be enough.
On those days, as I beg and plead for something closer to the ideal, the Lord gently reminds me that His presence is sufficient. And when I’m willing to roll with the punches, to find joy in even the most frustrating of moments of family life, I am always amazed at how much grace I find there, too.

Rachel Swenson Balducci is a freelance writer, wife, mother of four sons and a member of Most Holy Trinity Parish, Augusta.

My God is so big

Tue, 17 Oct 2006 09:56:57 -0500

By Rachel S. Balducci
One recent morning, as I helped my first-grader get out of bed and dressed for school, I asked him how he slept.

“I had a bad dream,” he told me.

“Do you want to tell me about it,” I asked, and then added quickly, “but you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“It was about me and daddy,” he said, not hesitating, “but it wasn’t real. But we were counting something by a big tree...”

Charlie, my son, started to tell me about the dream, which seemed harmless enough. Until he got to the difficult part.

“We stood by this tree, and it had a big knot, and in the knot...was an eye,” and as soon as he said that he lurched forward, grabbed me and held me tight.

We stood hugging for a full minute, not saying a word.
When he was ready to talk, I asked him if he wanted me to say a prayer for him that he wouldn’t be afraid. He said yes, but I could tell that the hug was what he wanted most. He simply needed to stand there and be held by me. He came up and hugged me again a few minutes later, one last reassuring moment before walking downstairs for breakfast.

In that instant, as I stood holding him tight, I had a brief glimpse of how God sees me. I could clearly see how God’s protective love for me was the same love I felt as I held my son. Only greater somehow.

Charlie’s problem was too much for him to handle alone, but it was not too much for me. It was very scary for him, but for me it was just a dream he had that was now over.

That’s how my problems are to the Lord. What seems insurmountable to me is merely a moment in time to God. It’s not that these things aren’t important to him; it’s just that they’re not too much.

In my own life, I’ve recently been dealing with some fear – not one big thing, but a variety of small issues that are challenging for me. And I mostly get frustrated with myself that I allow these fears to upset me. But they do. I worry and then the fear is all I can think about.

But God is bigger than this. And He doesn’t want me to go it alone. Of course I talk to my husband, or to friends and family. And I ask them to pray for me. But I also have to remember that in the midst of the sometimes-overwhelming anxiety, God is right here. He is here and ready to hold me, a child who just needs to feel that peace and confidence and protection.

I was reading recently about Saint Thérèse of Lisieux, and at the end of the article was a beautiful prayer that reminds me of the importance of my childlike reliance on God.

“God our Father,” read the prayer, “you have promised your kingdom to those who are willing to become like little children. Help us to follow the way of Saint Thérèse with confidence so that by her prayers we may come to know your eternal glory.”

My dependence on God is not being weak -- it’s doing what I should.

Rachel Swenson Balducci is a freelance writer, wife, mother of four sons and a member of Most Holy Trinity Parish, Augusta.

Can love really conquer all?

Wed, 27 Sep 2006 08:36:57 -0500

By Rachel Swenson Balducci
Paul and I recently spoke at the Augusta Deanery’s Engaged Encounter, which offered us the challenging task of representing the mystery and beauty that is marriage, in realistic and practical terms. Personally, my goal is to dispel naive notions without being a killjoy.
Our talk was one of several during the weekend, and we focused on the notion of love, and whether or not it can truly conquer all. Our answer? Yes and no.
Love is wonderful – especially when it is so strong that it leads to marriage. That beautiful, breathtaking feeling is, in part, what got you to this Engaged Encounter in the first place. But that kind of love is just that – a feeling.
Marriage, according to our Catechism, is a sacrament directed towards the salvation of others, and bestows special grace. With this grace, a married couple will “help one another to attain holiness in their married life.” In other words, give your spouse a big kiss right now, because he or she is working hard to help get you into heaven.
The sacramental aspect of marriage, the part of marriage that will take you past the touchy-feely (admittedly very fun) love—that is the most important part of marriage. Sadly, this detail often gets minimized or forgotten entirely. What it means, simply put, is that even when the intense amore comes and goes, you must stay committed. Of course that romantic love doesn’t ever have to go, but in seasons of struggle and strain, it’s the sacrament that gets you through.
Years ago, when I was praying through my vocation, there was something about becoming a nun that seemed so glorious, so sacred, so holy. I had spent some time with the Missionaries of Charity (Mother Teresa’s order) and thought that becoming one of them was really the only way I could truly devote my life to Christ. Anybody could get married, I thought. I want to do more.
And then I found out, by way of further prayer and discernment, that my vocation was to be a wife and mother. And I was very excited about that—I just figured God didn’t want as much from me.
Speaking at the Engaged Encounter reminded me of those thoughts from long ago. After 12 years of marriage, I’m beginning to understand how my marriage is a big part of my sanctification (and why I’m doing my part to help Paul get in to heaven as well). We utilize all the sacraments in order to be closer to each other – and in doing that we glorify God and fortify the Church.
The love of first kisses and heart-racing encounters – that is fun love. It's exciting. And it’s an important part of a marriage, because it sparks the marriage (and when you start to lose that feeling, you should work very hard to regain it).
But it can't conquer all.
Marriage at its finest is learning to die to self. A marriage starts to grow when a couple can show mutual love and respect, even in times of frustration The reality of marriage is that two people really do become one, through self-sacrifice and complete and utter giving to the other.
It’s the feeling combined with the commitment—that is the love that conquers all.

Rachel Swenson Balducci is a freelance writer, wife, mother of four sons and a member of Most Holy Trinity Parish, Augusta.

The view from the pew

Thu, 31 Aug 2006 09:10:47 -0500

By Rachel Swenson Balducci
Several months ago at early Mass, there was a conflict with the calendar and no priest showed up. A few minutes after Mass was to start, the deacon announced that due to some confusion, there would only be a communion service that morning. All the priests were either out-of-town or out-of-reach.
For a split second, I felt sad, like a child who had been left alone by mistake, who came home early to find the house empty. We the congregation had come to the church with the hopeful expectation of the Liturgy of the Word and the Celebration of the Eucharist. We came here expecting the full deal, but it wasn’t available for us.
A few minutes into the abbreviated service I started to feel better. I felt a sense of responsibility. Today we couldn’t sit back and wait for the priest to make it happen. That morning, the deacon did an amazing job with an off-the-cuff reflection, and we were still able to receive the gift of Holy Communio, of Christ’s generous gift to us in himself.
Of course this situation was not the ideal. It was an unfortunate mix up, and one that I don’t remember ever happening before (and definitely not since). Our priests are an integral part of our faith, and we can’t do it without them.
But I was reminded that morning that we in the pews, have just as much responsibility to make our faith come alive as the priest on the altar. Yes, we need the priests; we need their guidance and their wisdom, and we need them to celebrate the Mass.
But so much of what makes our faith really work happens outside of the one-hour weekly celebration of Mass on Sunday. Of course Mass is the ultimate celebration. But what about after Mass? What about the other 167 hours in the week?
We as Catholics have a responsibility to live out our faith to the fullest. And it takes more than simply showing up for Mass each Sunday. It is crucial for us to examine what we are doing the rest of the week to be the best Catholics, the best lovers of Christ, that we can be.
As a mom, a large part of my faith journey is lived out in my vocation as a mother and wife. An important part of each day is my responsibility to lead my husband and sons on the path of holiness by working to be holy myself. As Catholics, we have the beautiful gifts of daily Mass, Confession and Adoration to keep us close to Jesus. Our faith is rich; using these gifts certainly avails us of many graces.
But during some seasons, eventrying to attend daily Mass seems out of the question. My oldest was five years old when I had our fourth son; a priest-friend said there was no reason to torment myself by trying to take four little boys to Mass each day. During those days, my goal was to spend even five minutes in quiet prayer, thanking God for all he had given me, begging him for grace, praising him for being God, and then sitting quietly, listening for his voice.
When it’s all said and done, there are many ways that we, those in the pew, can work to build the Church outside of Mass each Sunday. We pray every day. We seek God’s will. We take the time to hear God’s voice. We strive to be loving, kind, humble, and good.
And we listen for God’s voice in every part of our day. That is our faith at its finest—finding God in all we do.

Rachel Swenson Balducci is a freelance writer, wife, mother of four sons and a member of Most Holy Trinity Parish, Augusta.

Finding the forest amidst the trees

Mon, 07 Aug 2006 14:36:35 -0500

By Rachel Swenson Balducci
My son Elliott and I ventured out for a trip to the grocery store one Saturday, and decided to stop and enjoy lunch together on the way. Paul was home with the other boys, and I was excited to have a “date” with my seven-year-old.
As we walked into the restaurant, I noticed a man sitting at a table with four boys—all dressed in bright blue golf shirts. The boys were young, probably all under 12, and they were quietly eating their lunch. I hated to bother them, but couldn’t help myself.
“Do you have four boys,” I asked. Like a twit. Because I’m often asked this when out with my four boys and am amazed and amused by the question. The answer seems so obvious.
“Sure do,” he said kindly, shaking his head.
“So do we,” I said enthusiastically, like I was meeting a fellow member of the world’s Most Exclusive Club.
“Great!” said the dad, his tone changing. “So you know...”
“Yes I do,” I said. “Isn’t it wonderful!”
We chatted for a moment. I complimented the boys on their good behavior—and on their good looking shirts. The dad explained why they were dressed alike, and I nodded—I absolutely understand the need to easily spot your sons, who are not always inclined to stay at your elbow. Of course brightly colored shirts! We do the same.
“It’s always nice to meet other people in our boat,” he said.
“We’re all in this together,” I said, touching his shoulder.
As Elliott and I ate our lunch, I stole a few glances at the man and his sons. It was an overwhelming gift — the beautiful sight of all those boys, and the reality of God’s love.
Family life is so precious. A man and woman lay aside their former selves to become husband and wife, mother and father. The two become one—a family, with its own unique charisms, qualities, look and feel from any other family on the planet.
At that moment, as I watched someone whose family looked similar to mine, I was able to see all that God had given me. I was overcome with gratitude for my sons, for my husband who is so good to them (and to me), and for everything that goes along with having a house full of boys.
I was especially thankful for my vantage—my ability to clearly appreciate my life by looking across that restaurant.
I was getting a view of the forest, the view that is so easily lost when you’re thick in the trees. Standing next to my boys (or running or chasing them), it’s tough to fully appreciate the beauty of life, of my personal circumstances. Sitting across from it in a restaurant, I was inspired.
The man and his sons finished their meal and left the restaurant. I called Paul a few minutes later.
“I just saw the coolest thing, Paul.”
“What’s that, love?”
“Us.”

Rachel Swenson Balducci is a freelance writer, wife, mother of four sons and a member of Most Holy Trinity Parish, Augusta.

It’s good to be Catholic

Fri, 28 Jul 2006 15:25:13 -0500

By Chuck Frost
The Catholic Church has some issues it needs to work out and some changes that need to be made, but when I read stuff like this, I’m reminded of one of the big reasons I became Catholic.
Birmingham, AL (AP)
The divine Trinity “Father, Son and Holy Spirit” could also be known as “Mother, Child and Womb” or “Rock, Redeemer, Friend” at some Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) services under an action Monday by the church’s national assembly.
Oh Lord! I mean, uh, “Oh Child!” Besides “Mother, Child and Womb” and “Rock, Redeemer, Friend,” proposed Trinity options drawn from biblical material include: ”Lover, Beloved, Love”; ”Creator, Savior, Sanctifier”; ”King of Glory, Prince of Peace, Spirit of Love.”
If you are going to do this you may as well just toss the entire doctrine of the Trinity.
I have no problem at all referring to God using feminine imagery, as did the prophets, but the doctrine of the Trinity stands or falls on the relationship of Father, Son and Spirit. That’s the point. The Trinity is a relationship. The only one of these alternatives that maintains the relational identity of the Trinity is “Mother, Child and Womb” and interestingly enough sounds the silliest.
If the Trinitarian God’s identity is purely functional (Creator, Savior, Sanctifier, for instance does not define a relationship between the three but merely three different functions of one God), then there is no Triune God, it’s just a description of God’s different roles.
Three persons relating to one another who are one in being is the very definition the doctrine of the Trinity.
One of the best statements on this issue comes from the great teacher of Church history and expert on Luther, David Steinmetz, confronting a proposal to change “Father, Son and Spirit” to “Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer” in the United Methodist Church:
“Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer refer to historical operations of God. To affirm that one God acted in these three roles is at best sub-trinitiarian and at worst a repetition of the old Sabellian heresy. Furthermore, if Creator is looked upon as an exact replacement for Father, Redeemer for Son, and Sustainer for Holy Spirit, then both too much and too little is claimed for each person of the Trinity. If the Father is only Creator and not Redeemer and Sustainer, if the Son is only Redeemer and not Creator and Sustainer, if the Holy Spirit is only Sustainer and not Creator and Redeemer, then the Bible becomes unintelligible. What does John mean when he speaks of the Logos as the one through whom all things were made? What does Isaiah mean when he celebrates Yahweh as Redeemer? What does the Church have in mind when it prays, Veni Creator Spiritus? You can see rather quickly why the Church adopted the theological principle that the works of God ad extra, i.e., directed outside himself, are indivisible.”
“Trinitarian language is ontological language. It is the language of God’s being and not of God’s doing.” (Memory and Mission, Abingdon Press 1988)
It’s a difficult doctrine to wrap our minds around. Part of its beauty is in its mystery, and it is not meant to be reduced to functions or simply tossed about because the language offends our sensibilities.
One reason is that language limited to the Father and Son “has been used to support the idea that God is male and that men are superior to women,” the panel said.
This is an old argument that fails the logic test. The Trinitarian language of the Church was not intended to do any harm. It was meant to express the Church’s experience of God as revealed in the Covenant with Israel, Jesus the Messiah and the Spirit at Pentecost. The language is meant to form us in God¹s image as a God who exists in relationship of love. We are called to do that. If we toss everything that was misused according to its original intention, we wouldn’t have much left.
Some over the years have said to me that they have a difficult time using the Father language because their own fathers were abusive, which, to me, is precisely the occasion when one needs to experience the paternal love of God, not run from it.
Some have said that we should alternately use Mother and Father to refer to the first person of the Trinity (e.g., Mother/Father, Son and Spirit). But this only serves to place emphasis on the gender of God when we ostensibly believe that God has no gender.
Moreover, this kind of debate just makes the church look silly. We have a hard enough time here in the U.S. trying to overcome the public relations nightmare that is Pat Robertson. We don’t need any more fuel for those who would dismiss the church as irrelevant. Even fark.com, whose users are typically sympathetic to “progress” in religion, tagged this news item as “silly.”
Distinguished religion and pop culture journalist, Terry Mattingly, has noted in his recent collection of articles, Pop Goes Religion, that the “fading world of mainline religion is desperately trying to appeal to the young” through a variety of attempts to be relevant.
Why is “mainline religion,” particularly mainline Protestantism, fading? My long held conviction is that it is due to an identity crisis, typified by this current proposal in the Presbyterian Church. Such changes don¹t make the church relevant, just politically correct. But the whole task of making the church relevant to society is tenuous at best. As my theological mentors Stanley Hauerwas and Will Willimon have said: The task of the church is not to make the church relevant to the world, but to make the world relevant to the church.
Though it is good to be Catholic when it comes to creedal matters (they aren’t up for discussion), we could use a little cultural accommodation in some areas, but relevancy doesn’t require shedding the foundations that actually birthed your identity.

Chuck Frost is diocesan director of Youth and Young Adult Ministry.

The art of the matter

Fri, 30 Jun 2006 13:54:58 -0500

By Rachel Swenson Balducci
I was lying on the floor in our playroom recently, taking advantage of a few quiet moments during the boys’ movie time. As I exhaled from a deep cleansing breath, I looked around the room and noticed it was getting a little crowded.
Every few months I try to assess what capes, weapons or building materials we really need, and what we don’t, and organize accordingly. Any mother can attest to the incredible rate that toys can overtake a home. Some days I blink and it seems the dress-up bin, which only days before worked perfectly, now has items gushing over the side like an ineffective levee.
For a minimalist like me, it’s too much. So on this day, I looked, thought, and tried to decide what bag I would use to stealthily spirit some stuff into the Suburban and down to Catholic Social Services. It was time for a serious playroom purge.
I also took note of the art decorating the walls —a few battle scenes; someone’s finger-painting; a Killer Whale drawn, painted and cut to perfection; a map of the world as seen by Christopher Columbus. These images, and many more like them, cover the walls of the playroom, and spill out onto the fridge, the walls of the bookbag nook, and a few other choice spots throughout my house.
I hang these images (not even close to everything they produce) to show my children that I am proud of their hard work, that I recognize their talent, that I see them appreciating the beauty of the world God made. We teach our children to love Jesus through practical religious knowledge, but we teach them at least as much by telling them about the world God made, the cultures He created, and about the joys of creating, competing, growing and achieving.
When I look around my house, a home filled with boys, I see that its embellishments are teaching my children, to a degree, what is important to me. There are maps of the world, a crucifix in each room, religious artwork, oil paintings, diplomas, pictures of loved ones -- and my sons' artwork.
As I picked through the piles of their paintings and sketches, I felt a tinge of guilt getting rid of their efforts. I saved a lot, but still had to get rid of plenty—to make room for more. There is always a new piece of artwork on the horizon—a new favorite dinosaur or shark fight scene to be drawn (many times over). New stories will be written, new characters developed. And there isn’t room on the walls to display every single piece all the time.
And then I realized, in the midst of all my cleaning, that part of creating is simply the journey of learning. Sometimes, in life, we do the work for the sheer joy of it —not for the finished product, but for those few moments where we sit, focus, and worship God in our endeavor by learning about the world He made. By using to learn the gifts he’s given us, part of the joy is simply in the endeavor itself.

Rachel Swenson Balducci is a freelance writer, wife, mother of four sons and a member of Most Holy Trinity Parish, Augusta.

Respect: the best Father’s Day gift

Thu, 15 Jun 2006 10:46:11 -0500

By Rachel Swenson Balducci
Last winter, Paul was scheduled to go out of town with the basketball team he coaches. He decided to take our three oldest sons with him. I was discussing details of the trip with five-year-old Charles. He wanted to know exactly who was going with Daddy—and who wasn’t.
“Just me and my brothers, right?”
“Well, yes,” I said, “I mean . . . what do you mean?”
“I mean, just us with Dad. But not you, right?”
“Why not me?” I asked, my interest piqued.
“We never get to be with Dad during the daytime,” explained Charles. “We see you but we only see Dad at night. This way we get to be with him during the day. Just us and him.”

Our bloody, powerful and beautiful heritage

Mon, 15 May 2006 12:33:24 -0500

By Rachel Swenson Balducci
For my husband Paul’s fortieth birthday, I had his favorite religious image handsomely matted and framed to hang in our home. The picture is a copy of Christ In Majesty, an enormous mosaic on the ceiling of the Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in Washington, D.C.
What Paul loves about this image, in addition to its overwhelming enormity (3,600 square feet at the Shrine), is the intense look on Christ’s face. Of course we know God is a loving God, but here, in this image, he is also very clearly a God who will “kick butt and take names.” This is not an image of Jesus meek and mild, but of intense justice and mercy—and intense love.