To Be Continued...

There’s no place like home…

Leaving Liberia was actually harder than I thought it would be, though. I was definitely excited to come home, but as time drew nearer to leaving, more and more of me was longing to stay. Part of it was because I didn’t want to leave the friends I had made there, but part of me also didn’t want to leave the lifestyle behind. Over there things seem much more simple and life moves at a slower pace. And I was worried about coming home. Not so much fearing that it would be difficult adapting back to the American lifestyle, but precisely because I was afraid of quickly falling back into the same old routine with Africa seeming only like a distant memory.

With the experience of living in Africa and returning home numerous times, Sister Raphael warned me that this can indeed happen soon after returning to America. The time spent over there can seem like a dream. Saying phrases like, “when I was in Africa…” can sound shocking even to yourself. And Rachel also warned in those situations to be easy on yourself. We may be tempted to feel that now, since we have had this experience, we should still strive to live the African lifestyle here in America, but under most circumstances that just isn’t realistic. We must do what we can, but aim smaller. Prayer is the best aid we can give anyway. We just have to continue saying yes to God. Mother Teresa even said that, “Every day you have to say yes. Total surrender! To be where He wants you to be…if God wants you to be in a palace, alright…accept to be in the palace.”

So on that note, I would like to ask for your continued prayers for Bob and I. That we may always carry with us these experiences that we have been blessed with, and allow them to continually transform and renew our lives. And I would also like to thank you all again for the prayers you have already offered us over the course of the summer. This is without a doubt what helped us make it through some of the tougher, darker moments of this mission. And not only the prayers, but the support and accountability it gave just knowing that you all were there beside us along every part of our journey.

I will miss everyone I met in Tubmanburg. Especially the priests I was fortunate to work alongside and learn from, and the young men that I was privileged to get to know over these past ten weeks. Not to mention Sister Raphael, Rachel, and Jackie who gave me a piece of home when I needed it the most.

Finally, thank you to Bishop Lynch and Catholic Relief Services, as well as both the Diocese of St. Petersburg and the Archdiocese of Monrovia, for making this experience become a reality for me. I can honestly say that this trip has changed my life, and I hope that I may be able to share my experiences with all of you sometime soon.

And even though this may be the end of this particular blog, I feel that it is really only the beginning. The beginning of a new chapter, a new mission. And wherever God may be calling us next, any of us, may we be willing to say yes and offer our total surrender to Him.

So until next time, may we meet each day in our prayers and in the Eucharist.

-Dan
written 08/18/11

Hometown Glory

It is a strange feeling walking down the street these last few days. I am extremely excited to come back home tomorrow, but at the same time I am sad to leave this place. After ten weeks in Africa, nine spent here in Tubmanburg, this place has become quite familiar to me. It has become my African hometown.

There is a song by Adele titled Hometown Glory, and part of the chorus goes, “Round my hometown, oh the people I’ve met, are the wonders of my world.” And this has truly been the case for me. It is the people that have made this place a home-faraway-from-home for me. I’ll admit that the constant stares and being hollered at isn’t all that Hollywood cracks it up to be, but I will miss just strolling down the streets greeting the people as I go. Meeting familiar faces and getting to know the locals. Having the children run up with arms outstretched and the excitement I felt the first time someone actually referred to me as Dan instead of “white-man.”

Even talking to the young men on the mission is a bitter-sweet feeling. We were told before we left that building relationships would be our primary purpose in union with our pastoral work. And while ten weeks is a good amount of time to begin these relationships, it does leave me at a loss, wishing I had more time to get to know these “mission boys.”

And I never would have thought that I would make quite a few American friends while in Africa, let alone one from my very own neck of the woods.

Other than the occasional asking to be taken back to America with me, I’ve had a few others say that they will visit in the years to come. I doubt it, but even today one of the men said that ten years from now he will travel to America. I just laughed. That is everyone’s dream here, and I hope it comes true for some of them. But this is something that we must not take for granted being blessed to live where we do.

I pray that at least some these relationships may last, though, and that we will all continue to pray for one another. They all ask when I’ll be back to Liberia. Maybe one day I’ll return to my “African hometown.” If I have learned anything in these past few years it is that you really never know where God will lead you next. But as for now, all I know is that my next stop is home…

-Dan
written 08/16/11

Waves of Grace

This past weekend I was able to make one last trip around Liberia before my departure on Wednesday. Rachel and I were invited to another mission about three hours away in a city called Careysburg. So on Friday we met up with a friend named Chris, yet another local American, who is the director of this mission.

Liberia Mission Inc. was originally founded in 2003 as an orphanage. This mission has expanded greatly these past eight years, though, and now house around one hundred children (boys and girls). The property also holds a chapel where a priest comes to say Mass every Sunday and a school that goes up through the ninth grade.

I originally wanted to make it to a town called Robertsport during my time in Liberia, but that turned out to be a good distance away so we were never able to make it over there. The reason I wanted to go there was because it is a popular beach destination in Liberia. But this last trip was more than sufficient to make up for Robertsport.

So then, before we headed back to Bomi, we went to lunch Saturday afternoon with one of the local priests. We ended up at a hotel that supposedly had pretty decent food. When we walked around to the restaurant in the back, however, the heavens opened up and the light shone beautifully onto the rolling waves and white sand of a pristine African beach. So we had a delicious lunch, pleasant company, and the sound of the ocean to round off my time in Africa beautifully.

And what would end the day better than an authentic Liberian taxi ride back to Bomi? Seven passengers squeezed very uncomfortably into a normal sized taxi that would fit four passengers fairly comfortably back home.

Oh Africa, how I will miss thee.

-Dan
written 08/14/11

Dawn From on High

I can’t believe that I’m within my last week here in Liberia. I’m even more surprised by the fact that I’ve already spent nine weeks in Africa. But what else is surprising is that throughout this blog I have not once mentioned SeaWorld. And who would I be if I didn’t? Anyway, around here the mention of SeaWorld or working with killer whales (my claim to fame) means nothing...humility check. But my reason for writing this entry actually has to do with what I learned from my experience working there in relation to this African mission.

During my time working at Shamu Stadium I was able to be a part of an amazing team of trainers. And there was one in particular, Dawn Brancheau, who tragically lost her life in an accident involving one of the whales. She was a continued inspiration while on the job, and even now as her legacy lives on in our hearts.

All through college I interned and worked at SeaWorld, aspiring to be a trainer when I finished. And I feel that I got as close as I possibly could (and technically my job title was Associate Trainer) when I felt the call to enter seminary. It was tough to leave, but I received great support from all the trainers, particularly Dawn. Through this I discovered that she was a Catholic as well, and a special connection was immediately formed. We then were able to share our mutual faith with one another and she couldn’t have been happier for my decision. And the one time I got onto the top level of the stage was with Dawn, and there we prayer for the safety of the animals and the trainers…

Dawn also shared with me her desire to soon visit Africa as part of a mission team through a priest that she knew. She brought him backstage once and made sure that I was there to meet him. The organization that he founded is in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and was created in response to the devastated living conditions of millions of children. At this point I had no idea that I would one day soon end up in Africa myself.

When I was discerning the seminary and praying about the option of working as a trainer, the one question that always tugged at me was whether I would be fully satisfied doing that work. And while God seemed to be calling me personally in a different direction, Dawn showed me that, without a doubt, you could be. By her ever-present enthusiasm and zeal, she showed me that no matter where we may be called to in this world, we are all called to let the light of Christ to shine through us. And by realizing the plan that God has for us will allow us to do just that. As St. Catherine of Sienna said, “Be who God meant you to be and you will set the world on fire.”

Being blessed with the opportunity to do mission work in Africa, I have kept Dawn close in prayer. And I believe that I have been able to discover a little more about exactly who God has made me to be. This chance to build relationships with the people, and especially the children, has been a once in a lifetime experience that I will always remember. And I know that Dawn would have loved it too, and more importantly, they would have loved her.

As I have starting saying goodbye to the various groups that I visit throughout the week, today one boy asked me why I was sent here to him. I paused, kind of shocked actually, that this boy felt as though God has sent me to him personally. I was filled with thanks to God for that moment and for apparently making an impact in this child’s life…then I realized that the boy actually asked what will I send him when I get back to America. Nevertheless, I will remember that memory the way I want, and send him some prayers when I get back home.

And I always continue my prayer for the safety of the animals and trainers at SeaWorld. And as we pray every morning during the Liturgy of the Hours:

In the tender compassion of our God
The Dawn from on high shall break upon us,
To shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death,
And to guide our feet into the way of peace.

-Dan
written 08/11/11

Local Talent

By popular demand, I would like to share with you a little bit about Liberia’s resident Floridian, Rachel Gillman. Rachel was kind enough to give me an interview so that I could put this post together and she could share a bit of her story with everyone (she even had fresh peanut butter cookies made when I showed up, but I told her that she couldn’t bribe me so easily…turns out she could). Her family moved to Florida when she was a child and they have attended St. Timothy’s Catholic Church in Lutz ever since.

Rachel attended college at Furman University in South Carolina, and double majored in Biology and Sociology. She always heart for mission work and social justice, however, and since her biology major required her to complete an internship, she decided to satisfy both by spending the summer between her junior and senior years in Ghana. There she helped with HIV and AIDS treatment and awareness.

Coming back to the States proved to be more challenging than expected, though. After some time, the rhythm of life and school caught back up to her, and the feeling of desolate and desiring to do more sank in. The prospect of further mission work was still on her heart, but Rachel needed some answers first. Being in Africa it was easy to choose the more “socially just” options such as spending less money on superfluities, helping the less fortunate, even taking colder (some could say more energy efficient) showers. But this was because there was no a choice. This is the way of life in these parts of the world.

So in order to make the choice to live socially just, to figure out how to truly live out the Gospel message she turned her eyes closer to home. After some research, she decided to volunteer for a year with the Jesuit Volunteer Corps in Brooklyn, New York once she finished college. During this year she learned firsthand the four pillars of the Jesuit Volunteer Corps: Social Justice, Community, Spirituality, and Living Simply. In Brooklyn, Rachel worked in a neighborhood of Latino immigrants as a tenant advisor. This job offered her the opportunity to unofficially represent the tenants who were being illegally evicted and be a voice for those who had none.

After this experience Rachel knew what it really meant to be a missionary. So often missionaries focus of the development aspect of their work that they neglect and miss the value of the spiritual side. All too often they focus on building schools or hospitals (which are good and necessary), but the idea of building up the people themselves is lost. A common phrase I hear jokingly from the Americans around here is, “It’s not my country.” And while this is said in jest, there is truth to this statement. It is not our job to supply support until the local people become dependent on us. We must build up the people so that they will be able to support themselves. And building them up spiritually might be the most important of all. Without faith, without purpose and direction in life then desolation and hopelessness set in, and then all is lost. So we must not look at our success or worth through the eyes of man, but look through heaven’s eyes.

So with this newfound understanding and zeal, Rachel decided it was time for another trip to Africa. The organization that she decided on was the Society for African Missionaries (SMA), and she would participate in a two year missionary program. After 4 months of training, Rachel set off for Liberia with Sister Raphael and Jackie Madden in January 2010.

While in Bomi County, Liberia, Rachel works primarily at St. Dominic’s Catholic School as a biology and chemistry teacher. Being the only female teacher at the school, she also serves as the girl’s advisor and disciplinarian when necessary. She works a lot with the girls throughout the school year and has even started a “soap project” where the girls make their own soap to sell locally in order to pay for their school fees.

On top of teaching at the school, Rachel also teaches catechesis to the children at Sunday Masses and may even start working at the local hospital a bit if she can find the time. But I can vouch for the fact that when Rachel is not working on any “official” jobs, there is a constant stream of her students that visits for advice or just a friendly smile. She has also taken it upon herself to start learning sign language from some of the local deaf children, and is in the process of putting together a biology textbook that is all encompassing for their curriculum and uses local African examples that might be easier for her students to understand.

Overall, Liberia is lucky to have such a dedicated and hardworking Floridian at their disposal. Rachel had come to learn that God truly works in the unexpected, and that we are called to empty ourselves so that the Holy Spirit can fill us and complete the good work that has already begun in us.

And as for the future, well their assignment officially ends at the end of January 2012, but Rachel is going to stay on until June in order to finish off the school year. After that, God only knows…

-Dan
written 08/10/11

Lazy Sunday

So, I feel obliged to quash any rumors before they start regarding my birthday here in Africa. No, there was no sacrificial goat offered, and no, I was not branded with any tribal tattoos…and no to everything else.

Yesterday we had a dinner in honor of my birthday and Jackie’s leaving. She is heading off to Rome and then Spain for World Youth Day. So there was no animal sacrificed (there were two live chickens brought up for the offertory at Mass today, however, so it is very likely that one ended up as our lunch today), but we did have cake. And overall it was a rather lazy Sunday.

I feel that the gospel was very appropriate, though. A coincidence? Well, you know Einstein said that coincidences are God’s way of remaining anonymous. Anyhow, I’ve been praying with this particular gospel of the walking on the water for the past year. Putting myself in Peter’s shoes, being called out into the stormy waters. And on my birthday, a day usually spent with family and friends, I now find myself in a quieter situation and able to reflect more on my now twenty four years on this earth.

This also brings me to a song by Danielle Rose titled Walk on Water. In this song she narrates the gospel passage. It is a powerful song, but the end is what hits home for me today. Especially as I will be traveling home in a few days (10 be exact…not that I’m counting or anything) that I keep the stillness that I have been blessed with this summer. Asking the Lord to keep me in the harbor of His peace:

Lord, you brought out of Egypt through the water.
You baptized me with power to believe.
Truly you’re the son of God, Lord Jesus.
Keep me in the harbor of your peace.
Be still my soul, for God can do all things.

-Dan
written 08/07/11

The Lost Word

As I lay on one of the pews in the chapel staring heavenward, I close my eyes and sense the vast universe beyond me. I begin to ponder some of the mysteries of our world and our faith that have presented themselves to me recently. These thoughts that I will shortly articulate began upon my arrival back to Liberia (possibly some of the “unfinished business” I still have here), and presented themselves from the two books I am now reading. A rather strange combination perhaps, but with several surprising similarities nonetheless.

I am currently reading God’s Voice Within, a book about Ignatian discernment written by Jesuit priest Mark Thibodeaux, and The Lost Symbol, a novel by Dan Brown, infamous author of The Da Vinci Code (I found this one at the airport in Nairobi, actually hoping for The Da Vinci Code because I’ve never read it and wanted to see what all the fuss was about, but I settled for his latest novel instead). Both have been rather captivating reads, and together helped to pose several theological reflections that I will now try to share.

Spoiler Alert: I will not reveal the plot of The Lost Symbol outright, but several questions or crucial details may be revealed in this entry. So if you are planning on reading this book in the near future, ye be warned.

This is the first Dan Brown book I have read so I can’t speak for all of them, but there are many philosophical and theological discussions throughout The Lost Symbol. It also centers heavily on the Freemasons, particularly on a secret of theirs known as the Ancient Mysteries which is supposed to hold a truth that has the power to transform mankind. And while there are various claims that Brown makes that are clearly contrary to what we believe as Catholics, there are also plenty of points that are worthy of reflection.

One of the main claims that is revealed over the course of this book is that the key to unlocking the Ancient Mysteries, the legendary Lost Symbol, is on full display for all, yet invisible to most. I will not reveal what this is in the book, but I believe that in reality it is much simpler (not that I am consenting to this idea of the Ancient Mysteries, just using it now as an analogy for our faith). This is not a mystery that is hidden for the unworthy or kept secret in order to hide some ancient power from the forces of evil. On the contrary, it is on full display, but the problem is that it is invisible to those who aren’t searching for it.

St. Ignatius says that, “Man is created to praise, reverence, and serve God our Lord, and by this means to save his soul…our one desire and choice should be what is more conducive to the end for which we are created.” Our task is easy then…in theory. To praise the Lord in our words and actions, our choices and thoughts, by the very air we breathe. So yeah, in reality this may be harder than it sounds. As a result, many have ignored, even forgotten the purpose for our creation. Forgotten this “Ancient Mystery” of humanity. The key then is our relationship with God. In order to follow Him and live the lives we were created for, we must turn to Him who is our Creator and Savior.

But there is another obstacle that we unfortunately also must face. Along with the true spirit there is also the false spirit that will try, and often succeed in derailing us from this mystery and purpose of our creation. And to this point that I will now discuss, I was rather surprised to find a consistent agreement between these two authors.

John 10:10 says that the Lord has come so that we may have life, and have it in abundance. So in our mission to praise, reverence, and serve our Lord, He in turn wishes for us to have life based in His love. And in order to guard ourselves from the false spirit who will all too often tear us down, we must be aware of that which is opposed to love.

My original thought, as I assume most, is that hate is the opposite of love. But actually, it is not. When you hate someone then you have passion, you are actively engaged in that person’s life. No, the opposite of love is actually apathy, a state where you don’t even care enough about the person to hate him (Thibodeaux, p.27). And Brown mentions this in two places, stating that, “Man’s apathy was the fertile ground in which the dark spirits tended their seeds” (p.587). So I am most unloving, most deficient of life, when I have no feelings for you at all. Even Revelation speaks of this: I wish that you were either cold or hot. So, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I am about to spit you out of my mouth (3:15-16).

So we can build our relationship with God by recognizing that our life comes from His love. Knowing that, “darkness feeds on apathy…and conviction is our most potent antidote” (Brown, p. 538). So if we strive with conviction and passion to love God and neighbor, then we will have life within us. This is the “Ancient Mystery.” That which is on full display, but invisible to those unaware or unwilling to search for it.

In The Lost Symbol, the female protagonist says that there is something about lying on our backs staring up at the heavens that opens our minds. And in God’s Voice Within, Thibodeaux comments that Ignatius himself seemed to prefer lying flat on his back to pray. This inspired me to lie down in the chapel here. So as long as you’re vigilant enough not to fall asleep, it does allow a unique perspective for contemplating the mysteries of life.

-Dan
written 08/04/11

From Coal to Kola

This past week since I have been back in Liberia, Bruno, the catechist I have been traveling with, has been teaching me more about the land and how the people live. At times it seems like I’m having my own biology lessons.

He first explained to me the process they use to make coal. This cleared up a lot of different sites I have seen during my time here: large stacks of wood piled up everywhere, smoldering piles of dirt, large bags of unknown material being sold all around the markets.

After this, Bruno has been pointing out all of the different vegetation that we come across. From corn to cassava to kola nuts, I am now skilled in the art of recognizing and distinguishing these different plants species. And not only recognition, but he has taught me how they plant, harvest, and cook most of these as well. So I figure now if this priesthood thing doesn’t work out I could make a fairly competent farmer…in Liberia at least.

It is amazing, though, how the people here have learned to live off the land in every way possible. They make their housing mostly from natural materials they find locally, they cook what they grow, and the children use their imagination to play with whatever they can find. Even when it comes to adapting to this postwar environment, the people are ready and able to adapt right along with it.

From the first moment I flew into Kenya I noticed the difference from Liberia. The increased poverty and desolation that I have experienced the previous five weeks were greatly reduced. And even though we had an amazing week exploring the beauty of Kenya, I am glad to spend my remaining few weeks back in this place. So that I can end this assignment with these people and their country fresh in my mind. So that I can learn whatever else I can about their way of life and their hope for the future. And that I take all of this back with me as I continue on my own journey through life back home.

-Dan
written 08/03/11

Peace

I heard a phrase last year that has recently emerged once again in my mind: You can’t pray unless your basic needs are met. So, in other words, it makes it hard to focus on prayer or reflection if your stomach is continually growling, the sweat is pouring down burning your eyes, or silence is impossible to find amidst the sounds of thirty adolescences around you. But there are those times when the stars seem to align and conditions are perfect for prayer.

Luckily, this is exactly what happened this past weekend during the priestly ordination I was blessed to attend. Two young deacons, Johnny-Clement and Terence, have now become the two newest priests in the country of Liberia. I had the pleasure of meeting Johnny-Clement earlier in the summer, and he made a point to get my phone number to make sure I know when the ordination took place so I could attend.

And on top of the ordination itself, it was the first ordination celebrated by the new Bishop that I saw ordained the very first weekend I arrived. He gave a beautiful homily extolling the virtues that are gifted by the Holy Spirit and necessary for carrying out the ministry of the priesthood. All the while, Archbishop Zeigler sat humbly off to the side, speaking only words of gratitude at the conclusion of the Mass.

I find it divine timing that the ten week period I find myself in Africa I was able to witness the ordination of two priests and a bishop. And for myself it has been a powerful experience, but not as apparent as I may have hoped for. I prayed before the ordination this past weekend that the Lord move in my heart if He wished, again finding myself praying for clarity. Only afterwards I realized and thanked God for the consolation I felt, not from any explicit feelings of confirmation or clarity, but in the grace I received from putting trust in the Lord by faith alone.

I call consolation…filling [the soul] with peace and quiet in its Creator and Lord.
-St. Ignatius of Loyola, Spiritual Exercises


-Dan
written 08/02/11

Little Lion Man

Allow me to reflect a moment on the wonders of the animal kingdom alongside the mysteries of our faith. In particular, the king of the African plains, the lion. Seeing this animal up close, but luckily not too personally, was definitely one of the highlights of my trip to Kenya. But seeing one particular pride several times throughout the week and observing some of their behaviors got me thinking about our own lives.

Watching our two cats at home, we often comment that “they have the life.” They sleep most of the day, have their food laid out for them at the same time every day, and receive constant attention (whether they want it or not). Well, it appears that our house cat’s larger cousins aren’t too far off. Granted, while they do have to hunt for their own food (or stalk is more like it), they seem to sleep most of the day as well, and the cubs definitely receive constant attention, and if not they seek it out themselves.

But there is another feature to their lives on the Serengeti that I found most interesting. They seem not to have fear of anything. But of course, why should they? What animal would dare cross a lion? We saw one male lion in particular sleeping in the middle of the plain, with no bushes or cover of any kind, totally vulnerable.

We all know the classic Wizard of Oz, with the Scarecrow asking for a brain, the Tinman for a heart, and the Lion for courage. These characters were chosen because the objects that they wished for were obvious assets to their person. What is a lion without courage? Merely a scaredy cat (pun most definitely intended).

On seeing this first hand and reflecting on our own call as children of God, this is an attribute that we all need to share. Just as the lion can rest on the plains of Africa with no fear of attack, so too should we be able to rest in the Truth our Lord, not that we won’t be attacked, but with courage that the Lord will provide for those who are doing His will, no matter the challenges we may face.

There is a song by the band Mumford & Sons entitled Little Lion Man. I began pondering the meaning, trying to find a way to tie this all together nicely, and I came up with nothing. Further reflection on the title, however, led me to the apparent paradox that exists in the title, between the man in the song to the actual nature of a lion. The song describes a man who is not as brave as at the start, needing to take all the courage he has left to face yet another mistake he made with another’s heart.

I think this song speaks to many of us, though (pardon the expletive if you go and listen to it now). About the mistakes of our past and the courage it takes to face up to these and move forward, learning from them. And not just about mistakes, but about the courage it takes just to live out the faith in our day-and-age. To face persecution and hardships, to live outside the norm, to put all of our faith in someone that is unseen. It took courage for Jesus to pick up his cross and march up to Calvary, and we are asked nothing less.

Jesus calls to us all just as he called to his disciples on the water, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.” Fear is the biggest obstacle to those trying to carry out God’s will. And even if God calls us to something that is truly frightening, we can chose to act boldly. To allow the spirit of knowledge and fear of the Lord be our delight, so that the day will come when the calf and the young lion shall browse together, with a little child to guide them.

-Dan
written 07/29/11

Jambo!

Swahili for "Hello"

I am now back in Liberia after an amazing week in Kenya. It was great to be reunited with Bob and Chris and to share our experiences in our respected countries here in West Africa. Not to mention, of course, finally seeing the great creatures that roam the Serengeti on safari!

And thankfully, everyone made it back home safely. But it is a somewhat strange feeling for me to now be “alone” on this continent. Of course I am not alone (I even still have someone from our own diocese here with me) but you know what I mean. I am in good spirits, however, knowing that God still has great plans for my few remaining weeks at this mission. And I was welcomed back with sincere and warming greetings, glad to see the familiar faces of my Liberian friends.

If there is anything I have learned so far, and I know is a major lesson of this whole summer (that I’m sure I’ve already mentioned before), is total surrender to the Lord. And this lesson seems to keep forcing itself upon me. I guess the Lord knows my stubbornness by now. To give the most recent example, I seem not to have the best luck with flights (those who flew with me to Mexico years back can attest), but I decided this time not to worry but just trust that the Lord will see me through.

And who’da thought, but it worked! No matter if it was the five hour delay out of Liberia or not getting picked up at the airport in Kenya, trusting that the Lord would take care of me gave me the peace to take it all in stride. And it all worked itself out fairly easily too.

Not only the logistics of the travel worked out, but the travel companions I made helped get me through as well. On the way to Kenya I met two nuns that were on their way to Ghana (one of whom teaches at the seminary there), and they definitely made the five hour delay move a lot faster. And on the way back I met a Catholic woman who was born and raised in Ghana, but is now a student at the University of Florida in Gainesville. I feel confident now that by the end of my stay here I will find all of the Floridians in West Africa.

My time spent back has already been challenging for me spiritually, though. Not only the longing for home now that Bob is back and my end is in sight, but in a positive way too. I feel that these last three weeks will really test me and allow me the opportunity to look back on my past and forward to my future given the present I now find myself in.

I recently read a quote from Mother Theresa after she had been asked to pray for someone’s clarity. She replied by saying, “I’ve never had clarity and certitude. I only have trust. I’ll pray that you trust.” I stopped after reading this, realizing that clarity is exactly what I had been praying for. I then took this quote to prayer and began to discover the true extent that we are asked to trust. God never promised us certainty, but we are asked to keep our gaze focused on the Lord and to trust, or else we are bound to sink as Peter did attempting to walk on the water.

So for my remaining weeks I will keep my eyes focused, and I will pray not for clarity and certitude, but for greater faith and trust. And I ask for your continued prayer as I continue praying for you all. Also, I hope you all have the opportunity to harass Bob about his experiences while he is home…I know he would love that!

-Dan
written 07/29/11

There and Back Again

I’m home.

Kenya was beyond any words that could attempt to do it justice. John of the Cross said that God “leaves some trace of Who He is” in nature and I witnessed such holy fingerprints in the Serengeti. The greatest joy was reuniting with my brother. I remember telling an inquiring Sierra Leonean that, for brothers, Dan and I “get along better than we should.” He is the Luigi to my Mario, the Robin to my Batman, the Michelangelo to my Leonardo (Ninja Turtles, not Renaissance painters). It was a joy to spend the time with him on that holy landscape.


Thank you to Bishop Lynch, Catholic Relief Services, and the people of the Diocese of St. Petersburg for making this trip possible. Thank you to Bishop Biguzzi, Fr. Francis, and all the people who pierced my heart in Africa—in God’s time, I just may be back. Thank you to the second season of House for getting me through many dreary afternoons. Thanks especially to YOU, the readers, for your support in prayer and encouraging emails. You all helped me to hold on. Special thanks of course to my family, especially to Mom for bearing with the emotional trauma of seeing her two sons leave for Africa—she’ll be seeking restitution. Dan: two weeks to go; you’re in charge of the blog now—hang in there, Samwise. And of course, all glory to the Trinity and Mama Mary.


I will miss Fr. Francis and Bishop Biguzzi, as well as all the parishioners and people I got to know during my stay. I suppose I will also miss the solitude. It was refreshing to get away from cell phones, Facebook, and 24-hour news stations; it forced me to listen better to God and give him the attention He deserves. It's something I have to prioritize now that I am back in the States. But it’s so good to be home.


Well, I’ll be signing off now. I hope to catch my breath and pass back into some kind of anonymity, until at least God calls me out again.


See you next time.

-Bob
written 07/28/11

I Bless the Rains Down in Africa!

I know that I must do what’s right,
as sure as Kilimanjaro rises like Olympus above the Serengeti.

And it would not be right to blog a whole summer in Africa and not mention this song at least once. And seeing that tomorrow I am leaving for Kenya, I felt that now was the right time (not to mention I’ve been waiting to use this since before I left. Sad, maybe…).

Bob, Chris, and I are all meeting up in Kenya to explore more of the beautiful continent of Africa and more of our universal Church. Not to mention finally seeing some stereotypical African animals.

After this Bob and Chris will head home to America while I will remain here to hold down the fort, so to speak. I will go back to the mission in Liberia for another three weeks since I started my assignment later than the other two. So, you know what that means...I will plow on with this blog after the 28th without the additions of my brother. For better or worse, you will continue to get updates until I return home August 18th.

I’m not sure of our internet access for this next week in Kenya, so I apologize if there is a short hiatus. But get excited, and prepare yourselves for some sweet pictures when we continue!

It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you.
There’s nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do.
I bless the rains down in Africa!

-Dan
written 07/19/11

Madonna of the World II: Song of Lowliness

There are times when we feel like there is no hope. We look around us and see the world in turmoil and desolation and feel so small beside it. And we know that no matter how good our intentions are or how hard we may try, nothing we can do will even begin to make a dent.

Being in Africa, you can get this feeling quite often. Looking around you see endless poverty, corruption in the schools, and isolation of entire communities from the Word of God. This is the crucial point, though. At this point we can either pack our bags and go home because of the sheer magnitude of the situation, or we can turn to God in our lowliness.

Our Blessed Mother is again our model of humble courage in the face of a world gone wrong. It was at the Visitation to Elizabeth when the song of the Magnificat sprang from the lips of Mary. Here she praises the Lord, her Son, for looking upon her lowliness. While most of us do our best to hide our weakness and prove our own strength to the world, our Mother magnifies not herself but her Son. And this is a lesson we all need to heed. For only a soul that does not magnify itself can magnify the Lord.

And this is meant to give us hope. It is precisely in our weakness that God makes us strong. But for this we must first recognize our lowliness before Him. And for me, at least, this is a heavy burden lifted off my shoulders. Or, I guess it would be more accurate to say that it is an exchange of my own yoke for the yoke that Jesus has offered us, one that is easy and light. Because rather than giving up in the face of the world, we realize that we ourselves are not able to do anything, but it is the Spirit moving inside us that will set the world on fire.

God looked upon Mary in what she believed was her nothingness, so God once more created a world out of nothing. And if Mary saw herself as nothing, who are we to think we can transform the world without the help of our Lord?

But I pray that the Lord continues to grant His strength and humility upon us all so that we may never lose hope. For me as I continue in my journey here in Africa, and for Bob and Chris, that as they will soon travel home they will continue to allow themselves to be emptied only to be filled by the Lord and not any other distractions that they will soon encounter.

It is times when we are overcome with great emotion that a song springs forth from our mouths. Putting all musicals aside, you can see this throughout the Bible, as in Miriam’s song after the crossing of the Red Sea. So may we always be overcome by the love and fidelity of our God, and may the Magnificat of Mary always be on our lips as she prayer:

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,
my spirit rejoices in God my Savior
for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant.
From this day all generations will call me blessed:
the Almighty has done great things for me,
and holy is his Name... (Luke 1:46-49)

-Dan
written 07/19/11

Uncharted

“We often meet our destiny on the road to avoid it”—Kung Fu Panda

I read an article recently on the lengths that men and women go to in order to sabotage their own vocations. The author called it the “Jonah Complex”--we glimpse the possibility of our own greatness, and then run from it. We fear change, the unknown, failure, losing control, greater responsibility, and ultimately, our own greatness. We resort to endlessly waiting for the “perfect moment” to act (which will never come) or distracting ourselves with projects, noise, or over-thinking the vocation question to the point of paralysis. Fear is the great beast that keeps us in between who we are and who we could be. No wonder John Paul II’s consistent message to the youth was “Be not afraid.”

I could write the book on how to avoid God. I could also write a book on how unsatisfactory that road is in the end. I prefer to stay behind-the-scenes, but I am continually being pulled out by Christ into a greatness I never would have dreamed for myself (or that I necessarily desired). All He seems to want is my “yes.” I never would have imagined myself doing ministry in Africa. But eight weeks later, here I am. If I never would have left home for Sierra Leone I don’t know who I would be today. I wouldn’t have lost 18 pounds (I was 190 when I left) or read over 14 books (including the Notebook...yes, Fr. Francis has a copy of the Notebook ; it was fantastic). I wouldn’t have faced my own poverty and allowed my prayer life to deepen to the depth Christ called for. I feel as if I have grown up a few years in only two months.

My last Sunday Mass was yesterday. That lost colony of American students I encounterd were passing by on their way to Freetown and they all stayed for the celebration. I sat on the altar looking out at my American companions, my Italian friends, and my African family. My imagination suddenly conjured up the image of a bowl. Stay with me, now: We are a bowl, and God, Who wants to continually pour more and more love into our hearts, can only do so if He makes it deeper. The bottom must be carved out. I have gone through two months of purging and detaching from comforts. I have ached for friends and family and realized that in God alone can loneliness be transformed. You better believe that the transformation hurts, but pain is not simply for the sake of pain. We have an end goal, a divine destination. During that Mass, the entire summer flashed through my mind and I realized there was no way to receive the magnitude of love present in that Mass if I didn't pass through the spiritual dark nights. They applauded for me, told me that I would be missed, and requested that the whole parish be invited to my ordination. That would be quite the airfare.


Thank you all for keeping up with the adventures of me and my brother. I wasn’t expecting to write as much as I have, but it turned out to be a worthy coping mechanism and outlet for my restless energy. Thank you even more for the thoughts, prayers, and email support. You all pushed me through the “wall” of my marathon and have helped in ways that still remain to be seen.

This week I leave to reunite with my brother in Kenya. I will formally conclude my share of the blog when I get home on the 28th. “Home”--what a lovely word. Feel free to insert your favorite Phil Collins/P. Diddy/Daughtry/Marc Broussard song referencing “home” at this point. After that, well...I start the major seminary in August. But the bigger story of my life is still unwritten, and I trust in God to bring this story to His desired conclusion and His desired greatness. That future is uncharted, and that’s fine with me.

See you soon.

-Bob
written 07/18/11

Your Turn

Several people have contacted me asking what they could do for the people here in Sierra Leone. This will be my first (and last) post regarding any talk of donations or financial giving. Even though I only have a European news station to watch over here, I nightly witness the global hysteria over the economy and now the American concerns over the debt ceiling, recession woes, etc. BUT, I would be remiss as a Christian if I did not offer this message for those able and willing to give.

I know that many people want to donate something other than money. The problem is that the current regulations and powers that run the port in Freetown are a tad corrupt. Many well-intentioned givers have donated toiletries, food, school and medical supplies, but these all get caught up in the red tape of the port. There are shipping containers that have been sitting in Freetown for months, spoiling the food and voiding the medical rations. I’ve overheard several phone conversations of the priests (and Bishop Biguzzi) arguing with port officials. The safest and most efficient option is to donate money. The organizations I have been blessed to work with all concern themselves with subsidiarity (getting the people to be self-sufficient) rather than simply providing hand-outs. Here are the websites I can point you towards:

Catholic Relief Services: http://crs.org/ The overwhelming majority of CRS’ expenses go to on-the-ground services for the people. About 50% of their 2010 expenditures were for education; they also offer life-saving malaria programs, nutrition for children, and legal services for vulnerable persons.

The Diocese of Makeni: http://www.dioceseofmakeni.com/iniziale.htm The greatest expense of the diocese is mobility, that is, fuel and the purchasing/maintenance of the vehicular fleet for the priests to be able to travel across the God-awful road conditions to minister to the village outposts.

Caritas: http://www.caritas.org/worldmap/africa/sierraleone.html A sister organization of CRS, Caritas offers numerous services to the people of Sierra Leone, including assistance for farmers, programs for the youth, and medical outreach for the poor.

I also have the information for anyone feeling called to donate directly to Fr. Francis’ account for the parish. I can relay this to anyone who privately contacts me. His biggest expenses are fuel for his truck and funds for the poor who continually knock on our door. My email is bobangel.ttm@gmail.com

Pray about it—the people here need our prayers, but they also need our hearts and willingness to give. One of our dollars is worth about four times that amount in their currency, and most live under a dollar a day. So even a one-time donation of ten dollars equals about forty dollars for the people here, and that can provide food for a family for weeks. Thanks for reading this far, if you have. Don’t give out of obligation—give for the sake of love. “At the end of our lives, we will be judged by our love”—St. John of the Cross.

-Bob
written 07/16/11

How Deep Does the Rabbit-Hole Go?

How deep are these so called “fairy tales” embedded into our culture? They are far more than the Disney movies we remember from our youth. Alice in Wonderland, for example, has made it’s was through the Disney stage into Batman, the Matrix, and now a modern take has even emerged with Alice clad in armor.

Let me back up for a moment, though, and explain this seemingly irrelevant and nonsensical rant. As it has been stated in previous posts, we have a lot of time to read here. And I quickly made my way through the books I brought (I was dreadfully unprepared for the intellectual stimulation I would soon endure). So I turned to the bookshelf here at the mission, which is filled with extremely old, dusty, often decaying books. I found a few of interest, however. One set being Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass.

I have always heard how different the actual tales are from the cartoon movies that we have grown up with, so I figured now is as good a time as any to find out for myself. And let me tell you, these two stories are without a doubt the weirdest, trippiest stories I’ve ever read.

Now, you’re probably wondering what my point is in publicizing this to however large a world is currently reading this. Well, when I finished I discovered an interesting greeting that Lewis Carroll gives to those who love “Alice” (Yes, a greeting at the conclusion is exactly the type of contradiction you’ll find in these stories). But it was an Easter greeting no less! Allow me to share a portion:

Are these strange words from a writer of such tales as “Alice”? And is this a strange letter to find in a book of nonsense? It may be so. Some perhaps may blame me for thus mixing together things grave and gay: others may smile and think it odd that any one should speak of solemn things at all, except in church and on Sunday: but I think—nay, I am sure—that some children will read this gently and lovingly, and in the spirit in which I have written it… For I do not believe God means us thus to divide life into two halves—to wear a grave face on Sunday, and to think it out-of-place to even so much as mention Him on a week-day…

So Carroll may not have been as out there as I anticipated. Now, I don’t know anything about his personal history, so if he really was mad then so be it (and at the moment I don’t care to find out because it may render this post utterly useless). But from this end greeting I would have to say that he may have been saner than a great number of us. If I may share one more slice:

Surely your gladness need not be the less for thought that you will one day see a brighter dawn than this—when lovelier sights will meet your eyes than any waving trees or rippling waters—when angel-hands shall undraw your curtains, and sweeter tones than ever loving Mother breathed shall wake you to a new and glorious day—and when all the sadness, and the sin, that darkened life on this little earth, shall be forgotten like the dream of a night that is past!

As I was reading these two stories, I was trying, rather awkwardly, to find a way to tie them into…well anything, in order to give me something to write about. But I believe that I finally found it here. Carroll says that he is just trying to add to the, “innocent and healthy amusement that are laid up in books for the children I love so well.” And I think that he has done just that. His stories about Alice are about a truly innocent young girl who dreamily visiting a Wonderland where she is able to break away from the darkness and monotony of her own little world to find her gladness.

And is this not what we are to do in prayer? Are we not also communing with a “heavenly Wonderland” in which we find our gladness and joy? Ok, maybe this is a stretch (I’ll have to develop this proposal a bit more), but Carroll’s words do give us something to think about. God does not mean us to divide our lives into two halves, but to unite God to our very being. To our work, our play, and everything in between. And we too, in our own way, need to add to the innocence, purity, and faith of the children of this world—from America to Africa (going across the Pacific Ocean of course so you’ll hit everything in between).

For Jesus tells us that whosoever receives a child in his name receives him. And unless we humble ourselves and become childlike in our faith before the Lord we will not enter the Kingdom of Heaven (Mt 18:1-5). So may this be our prayer today. To open wide our arms before the Father and journey deeper down the rabbit-hole of our faith.

-Dan
written 07/16/11

P.S. – The Mad Hatter’s riddle in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland is: Why is a raven like a writing-desk? Enjoy.

Authenticity

Perception is everything. How is it that we are perceived? How is the Church perceived? Is what we are teaching and preaching authentic or are we just talking the talk without walking the walk?

Today during a visitation in one of our local community I encountered my first argument. Although I hesitate to use the word argument, I’m not exactly sure what it was. It sounded like an argument from my cultural perspective, but I was warned when I arrived that when Liberians are conversing and get excited it can sound like they’re shouting at one another, but that’s normal. And the catechist, Bruno, and the other man said they were “brothers” and it is considered joking here. Whatever it was, it might have been the first time I really felt uncomfortable.

Not that I didn’t feel safe, but it really made me question things. This man is a recent convert from Muslim to Christianity. And he went on making accusations about the wealth of the Catholic Church and what we are really doing for the people in these communities. He made references to Bruno’s dress, crucifix, watch, phone, and the fact that he’s traveling with a white missionary (while he himself rode up on a quality motorbike, but that’s neither here nor there). He then asked how we are able to bring Christ to these people who have nothing.

The man, while his approach might have seemed a bit rough from my perspective, made a lot of valid points. How can we as Catholics proclaim Christ to the people we are called to serve? Bruno made many well-founded claims based on St. Francis of Assisi’s familiar phrase, “Preach the Gospel at all times, when necessary use words.”

But have you ever wondered how twelve men transformed an entire empire so long ago when thousands of us today seem to transform so little? The answer lies in our authenticity and our own personal relationship with God.

Fr. Thomas Dubay in his book Happy Are You Poor said that, “Modern men are weary of weavers of words, people who say beautiful things but do not live them. They are looking for authenticity, for heralds who have met God in deepening prayer and can speak of him from their hearts.”

If I have learned anything so far in my time in Africa is that even more than monetary or material support you can give people (even people who desperately need these), what matters more is our mutual spiritual poverty. And I have been fed just as much, and probably more, than I have been able to feed.

During our discussion this evening the man was attempting to make a point concerning our differing cultures, but Bruno stepped in and said that we understand each other completely. That the beauty of our Catholic faith is that no matter where we are from we are all serving the same God. We can relate with each other’s joy and walk with each other’s struggles because we are all pilgrims journeying to the same heavenly homeland.

We all have our own distinct and unique calling from the Lord. Even if you are called to the same vocation (say, two brothers in the seminary journeying towards priesthood) we are each called separately by name. But no matter what we are called to or the level of poverty we are asked to live out, we are all called to a deepening of our prayer life with God. We are all called to live out an authentic faith so we can be true heralds of Christ’s word and his love. And to quote St. Francis once more, "Start by doing what's necessary; then do what's possible; and suddenly you are doing the impossible."

-Dan
written 07/15/11

Class Dismissed

Today I taught the final writing and rhetoric class for the students at the University. Seems like only yesterday that they were staring at me wide-eyed and full of wonder, thinking that I was the guru of the gerunds. I’ve done the best I can. It’s in their hands now to revamp the newsletter and take their writing to where they will it. The students shared some generous words of appreciation for my time spent with them. It felt bittersweet to walk out of the classroom for the last time. They’re a quality group of young men and women.

Another blessing: my malaria-infected American companions were released from the hospital today. They received their final medications and hit the road this morning. I will admit that I had a great time hanging out with them yesterday (I daresay, it felt like I was finally doing ministry). I visited them in the afternoon and went back at night, bringing my iPod. I played “remember that ‘90s song” with the typhoid-affected girl, shuffling through hits spanning alt-rock and hip hop genres. She especially became excited when I played Vertical Horizon’s “Everything You Want.” I asked her to recall where she was when this song was on the airwaves. After twenty seconds of concentration she lit up, glowing like a Christmas tree: “6th grade dance, and the boy I had a crush on asked me to dance to this song.” Amazing...within every woman is that girl who still gets giddy when she recalls those pure moments of young love. She then requested some classic rock, so I put on AC/DC and told her to visualize her body rocking the malaria out of her body. Her friend thanked me as I was leaving; apparently her spirits were pretty low (especially being sick so far from home) and the music really lifted her up. Praise God.

I am a “Martha” who was forced to become a “Mary” this summer. The word patience comes from the Latin verb pati, which means “to suffer” (go figure). Most of my pastoral work has been to simply sit and receive whatever the daily experience the Lord offered, rather than (my preference of) actively getting hands-on with the people. It’s been a “desert of patience,” you could say. Yesterday felt like a reward for my trust—“active” ministry to my ill sisters in the hospital.

I now enter my last weekend and last Sunday Mass in Sierra Leone (and last volleyball game—thank you, Lord). I can remember sitting on the plane when it touched down in Africa on that first, pitch-black night. I had a lot of fear in that moment, questioning what I had gotten myself into. Now I’m wondering—-when I get back on the plane next week—-if this African experience will seem like a dream. It has certainly dragged at many moments, but these two months have passed in the blink of God’s eye. And what will I bring back with me? Will I fall back into old routines and habits, forgetting the simplicity in which I lived here? Will I continue to surrender to prayer in moments of loneliness or boredom, instead of filling it with busy-ness or technology? I don’t know…but I do know that God loves us too much to let us stagnate in mediocrity. Cheers to that.

-Bob
written 07/14/11

A War-Torn Country

Today marks the halfway point on this summer assignment. I have now spent five weeks in Africa and I have five weeks to go. A few days ago we had dinner with our friend from the Peace Corps, Bilal, because he is leaving to go back home to New York later this week. Before he left, he asked us if we ever experienced what he called “the epiphany moment.” This is the moment where you suddenly stop and remember that, “wow, I’m in Africa right now.” And yes, I have one of these almost every day.

Before we left we were warned about those warm, fuzzy feeling you can get about the people or the country you are in. First of all, to keep a realistic picture in your head about where you are and the concerns that need to be addressed. On the flip side, not to get discouraged or lose your passion for service if you lose those feelings.

While being here I have had the opportunity to learn a little bit about the people and the history of this country. I have not lost my passion for service, but I would definitely say that the warm, fuzzy feeling has ended.

Liberia is a war-torn country, there’s no doubt about that. I hear a lot about the days before the wars and how things were different then. Now, however, everything seems run down and somewhat gloomy, especially in the area where I am staying. From Tubmanburg it is a straight ride to the capital, Monrovia, on a paved road no less. So naturally this town was of particular importance for both the government troops and the rebels during the two civil wars Liberia recently had.

During the wars there was fighting in all the outstations I’ve visited, except for one which was apparently the only town to effectively fight off both government and rebel soldiers. And the fighting was brutal, little food, if any, was accessible to the people, and children were even taken as soldiers to fight on both sides. Fr. Garry stayed throughout the wars, however. He was threatened numerous times, fired upon, and was even taken by the rebels for a time for his own “protection.”

This was undoubtedly a hard time physically, emotionally, and spiritually for everyone involved. James Brabazon, the author of My Friend the Mercenary, was possibly the only journalist to be on the front line to capture video and stories of the struggles from the rebel front. And he said that, “West Africa pulled like iron on the needle of my moral compass. I was struggling to keep it pointing true.”

No matter what loss or trials they have experienced from these wars, however, the people of Liberia are still as hospitable and courteous as any group I’ve ever met. Not only to me, but I have seen the care that they show to one another, as well. The love they have for their neighbor whose house has been broken into, whose family member died, or whose friend is gravely sick.

James Brabazon made another comment that amidst the war and increasing amorality, the interactions with the children he met brought about a bit of romance of the Great European Explorers. In the same way, the people I meet (especially the children) show me a great hope in this country, and I have no doubt that the love of God will see them through.

-Dan
written 07/13/11

S.C.C.

Before we began this African adventure, Catholic Relief Services told us that our main mission would be building relationships. Two months is not enough time to complete any type of project, and in reality two years wouldn’t even be enough time. And especially given our vocational journey, our work is primarily pastoral, building relationships with the community we have found ourselves in.

And this is precisely what I have been doing. Up until now, I have been going out into the bush to do my pastoral assignments. Last week, however, I started to accompany the local catechist on his travels around Tubmanburg. This is largely due to the fact that there are now two other seminarians from Ghana that will be here until mid-August as well. So now we must all split up to cover Bomi County.

It has been a great experience to travel around my local stomping grounds though. It is all done on foot instead of by truck. This not only gives me a better opportunity to learn the lay of the land, but I don’t have to worry about the vehicles breaking down or getting stuck (but I did go out on the road Sunday morning, and low and behold, we got a flat tire).

But really it has given me the opportunity to build those relationships that I was sent here for. Traveling to the outposts gave me this chance to meet the people as well, but doing this locally I am able to see and interact much more often.

We start out by performing visitations in the mornings. After Mass each day we go around to a different community to visit with the parishioners. Also, if there are any special needs we can attend to these as well. Today, for example, there was a special service performed to name a parishioner’s newborn child.

In the evenings, we go back out to the same community that we visited in the morning to hold a Small Christian Community meeting, or S.C.C. for short. These meeting consist of six to eight adults that gather to represent their communities. After starting with the Rosary, we talk and see if there are any problems or issues that need to be addressed within the community. When everything is attended to, we go on to read the Gospel and discuss before closing in prayer.

It has been a blessing to see that there are so many within these communities who have an authentic love for their faith. And it is not only the meetings, but the genuine care for each other. In one meeting I was able to attend they talked about the fact that certain people were absent and need to be invited and welcomed back out again. We even held a prayer service with a Muslim family whose son was extremely sick.

It is a great feeling to finally get to know the community a bit better. To have my actual name called out in the street. But mostly to share with the people, as briefly as it may be, our lives and our own journeys in faith.

-Dan
written 07/12/11

Little Blue Pill

Malaria medication—what did you think this post was about?

I call the mosquitoes “Little Ninjas.” Hollywood led me to believe that African mosquitoes would be the size of my face and I could squash them with a crowbar. Not so, faithful reader. These mosquitoes are quick, small, and stealthy. They complete their mission, if they choose to accept it, within thirty seconds. I am bit probably about twice a day on average. I get angry whenever I see the bump and always wonder, “Will this one be malaria?” I have to take one pill a day, every day that I am here and for four weeks after I return. Slimy, yet satisfying.

Thanks be to God, and your prayers, my health has been the least of my worries. Somehow my stomach adapted quickly to the food here and I have yet to be troubled with an illness. Let’s hope I make it through these final weeks unscathed. Some of my compatriots are not so lucky.

Two of the girls from that American colony I found around the 4th of July are sick now and are staying in the hospital behind the parish. Fr. Francis was contacted, so I went up to visit. I told them I was from the American Embassy but they recognized me from the visit. They’ve already started calling me ‘Pa Bob,’ the tribal equivalent of ‘Father’—lovely. One of the girls tested positive for malaria and typhoid, the other only has malaria. They’re leaving Sierra Leone next week as well, and they were both pretty frustrated to have to deal with sickness in the final days. I told them that I would visit again tomorrow and smuggle in some Sprite. Smuggling is a corporal work of mercy, right?

-Bob
written 07/12/11

Born to Run

I went for a run last Sunday. Strange that my brother ran for his first time as well within the past week, but that is neither here nor here. I ran mostly just to say, “I ran in Africa.” Dan is right, though: no one runs for exercise here. If someone is running, something must be wrong. So if you want to stick out as a Caucasian, more so than you do already, you go for a run.

I ran through a trail that led out into “the bush,” the forested plain where the development ends and Jurassic Park begins. I’ve heard the John Williams theme music in my head quite often over the past two months as Fr. Francis and I have driven through the jungle environment. I’ve also waited in anticipation for a Velociraptor or a Tyrannosaur to leap from the thicket. No sightings yet.

It didn’t take long before I had a following of children keeping pace, giggling and laughing along. One child ran up to me and held out a stick. Please don’t stab me, I thought. Then several other kids ran in close with sticks, outreaching for me to take them. A kid yelled, “Take my torch!” They think I’m in the Olympics. Most of the children were clowning around, but I have no doubt that at least one six-year old believed that this strange man was running through her village on the way to Athens. So I grabbed some sticks and quickened my pace, perhaps believing for a moment that I was an Olympian.

Then I got tired, so I went home. But you know what, I ran in Africa. And I didn’t get stabbed by children.

-Bob
written 07/12/11

Natural Mystic

“Jesus left the house and went down to the lakeshore…”

This past weekend’s Gospel centered on the “Sower and Seed” parable. Perhaps I’ve just heard the reading so many times that I tried to find something new. I’m no Scripture scholar, but I’m learning that the little details, such as the time of day or what day of the week it is, actually matter. The first sentence began “Jesus left the house and went down to the lakeshore…” Then the crowd found him so he hopped into a canoe to escape. I can identity. One of the primary areas of development within the seminary is what they call “human formation,” that is, recognizing our complex dimensions and demands as human beings. This includes the need to recreate (re-create), to “get away” once in awhile to breathe.

Fr. Francis doesn’t have the luxury of an “off day” since he is the only priest in the parish—ergo, I do not get an “off day.” I’m not sure what I would do with a day off, anyway…probably read even more than I already do. My extra challenge is that, while yes, this area of Sierra Leone is inherently striking because it is Africa, it is developed and noisy, and I haven’t had much chance to appreciate the natural beauty. I suppose I grew up a spoiled ‘Florida baby,’ living so close to water. Gainesville took a toll on me because it was landlocked, and after several weeks I would have to continually escape the college town to get to the sea. Obviously, Christ saw the meditative value of the shore, and who am I to doubt the wisdom of our Lord?

Fr. Francis offered to take me to the beach at Freetown next week (if the health of his truck holds). I pray that this comes to pass. I can’t think of a better way to leave Sierra Leone than to get back in touch with the Atlantic. A professor in college told me once that people have different spiritualities: some tap into God in the mountains, for others the forest or the desert, and some have a “beach spirituality.” I know my place. After drums and jungles, it’s about time to get back to the horizon and one particular harbor.

-Bob
07/11/11

Francis and Francis

“Without reggae, the world would be very poor.”

These were the words Fr. Francis spoke after we spent an hour in front of my laptop, journeying through the jams of Marley, Tosh, and UB40. I introduced him to O.A.R., Matisyahu, and some of the funkier songs of Dave Matthews. Other similarities I have found between us: he used to play bass guitar in a band; he has the bass setting in his truck noticeably higher than the treble; he hangs a rosary from his rearview mirror (it’s a Catholic thing and it’s apparently consistent around the globe); and he’s not a “talker.” We spent last Sunday making the rounds to the villages and there was a stretch of two hours of driving where neither of us said a word, lest we disrupt the delicate flow of the reggae.

The irony is also not lost on me that I am having my immersion into poverty with a priest named after the saint of radical poverty, St. Francis. I feel like St. Francis intercedes to offer me daily challenges in my comfort level with the poor, and it’s not easy. The other day a beggar suddenly reached through the passenger window of the truck and held my face, speaking in a language unknown. Acting on instinct, I slapped the man’s arm away with my left hand, and the parishioners in our backseat immediately reprimanded the man for physically invading the truck. We drove on, but it shook me up. I slapped the arm of a beggar. I know that it was a self-defense mechanism; it happened very quickly, and you never fully know the intentions of the other person. But I slapped the arm of beggar. Coming from a seminarian trying to follow Christ and see Christ in the poor, I didn’t feel too great about myself. That’s just one challenging moment I’ve experienced.

Also factoring into the scope of poverty, I’ve noticed that it’s the “little things” that simultaneously test me and lift me up. My brother recently infected me with an addiction to the television series House, and I brought the second season with me to Africa to watch on my laptop. While the show has helped me through many tedious afternoons, it’s the little things like watching House pour a cup of coffee, or cook something in a microwave, or even just walking into an air-conditioned hospital, that make me remember the comforts I’m living without. Somewhere between the fire department and seminary my taste buds mutated to enjoy coffee—now every time I watch the show and see someone sip a cup, I shudder and itch my arm.

However, the little things also lift me up. There is a song called “Stereo Love” by Edward Maya and some Eastern European lady. Find it on Youtube. It has an all-too catchy accordion rift laid over club beats with some unintelligible lyrics. It was overplayed in Miami, but especially so at the gym where Dan and I worked out at to escape the seminary several times a week. We began associating this song with the gym and it eventually brought us joy whenever we heard it elsewhere. Well, the other night I heard this song blasting at full volume from one of the local houses having a party. And it instantly brought back memories of Miami, that gym, and my brother. I couldn’t believe that this song made it to Africa. I think it caused the biggest smile I had that day.

This post is a bit nonsensical—reggae, poverty, coffee, dance songs. Maybe I’m at the point of my trip where I’m becoming nonsensical. Well…more than usual.

-Bob
written 07/10/11

De-ology ‘o dee Bodi

Throw out all the usual teaching devices we take for granted in the States. We have no dry-erase boards or makers; no overhead projectors (no electricity during the day) and thus no copiers or printers, No portable chalkboards either, so everything is orally taught. Oh yeah, and that darn language barrier. I still insisted that Fr. Francis give me one night to talk about Theology of the Body (or “Dee-ology ‘o dee Bodi”).

The Theology of the Body (ToB) is the working title that John Paul II gave to the first major teaching of his pontificate; 129 Wednesday Audiences delivered from 1979 to 1984 have now been assembled into a collective work. It is a biblical reflection that illuminates the human desire of love, a love that God created in us to love as male and female in his image. John Paul insisted that our creation as male and female is not arbitrary, but points to the union within God that we are all called to attain. Our tendency to reduce the human body to something purely biological (and thus see the soul as something ‘trapped’ within) clouds our ability to see our sexuality in its full meaning, and it is not an authentic Catholic teaching. I have been blessed to attend two week-long workshops to deepen my understanding of JP II’s teaching, and I didn’t want to leave Africa withholding this gift.

I spoke very slowly and very clearly to a group of teens, offering them a snapshot of John Paul’s teaching. “So, dee bodi is ‘oly?” one of the girls asked, breaking the ice for a slew of other questions. It’s all about being a gift—our desire is rooted as a yearning to make a sincere gift of oneself to the other and to receive the other’s gift. Authentic love needs to find concrete form, love must become “enfleshed,” and thus we have a simple explanation of God’s physically entering into history. Christ recognized the risk of handing over His body, but as the heavenly bridegroom, He did so with full knowledge of rejection, as He does with every Eucharist. I’m not sure how much sense I made for the teens, but it’s in God’s hands now.


That’s it for my ToB plug in this summer blog. It is a vision of the human person that has transformed my Christian journey and I cannot recommend enough for those reading to explore this teaching in greater detail. As my Saturday morning cartoons taught me, knowledge is power and knowing is half the battle. But don’t take my word for it (cue Reading Rainbow music).


-Bob
written 07/09/11