Youth and Young Manhood

When does a man become a man? When he can grow a quality beard? When he can roundhouse kick like Chuck Norris? Most men’s magazines and pop culture will attest that the benchmark is once a person is financially independent. Sadly, during my stay on the fire department, I saw many thirty-year olds with the ethics and self-discipline of a teenager; I don’t think finances are the best barometer. Since I left my undergraduate studies at UF, I have often felt like a drifter on a wide-open field—I’m biologically, legally, culturally regarded as a man, but at what point do I “feel” like a man? Why do I still feel sometimes as clueless as I was in high school? Is this something I work out within myself or is it bestowed on me?

In this African culture, you are culturally not accepted as a “man” until you have left out into the unknown—be it for a hunt or for a great journey—and returned with a true inner transformation. You leave the status quo. You take responsibility for your actions and the consequences. You recognize the fear, but you recognize that there is something greater than that fear. Three years ago, I was more willing to run into a burning building than to allow God to have total control of my life. Now I am sitting in an African town where I have lived for the last six weeks, having taken nothing along but my clothes and laptop—I’m pretty sure God is now in control.

There’s a certain men’s magazine that my Dad and I have read for many years (whoever gets the magazine first tears out the cologne ads and subscription cards, and puts them in the other person’s bed; I have brought this practice with me into the seminary). They have good fitness and health tips, but I’ve noticed the magazine’s recent trends are now trying to convince me what kind of man-purse I need for this season and all the different hair and skin products I’m missing out on. Without getting into THOSE issues of where manhood is going, I do want to point out the scarcity of articles they run on the necessities of self-discipline, loyalty to your commitments, and sacrifice in the face of fear—those traits I’m sure any woman wants out of her man. I have fallen in the past to brief moments of supposing that I’m not a “man” because I don’t make the salary this magazine requires to own this gadget or that suit (even though I don’t need that pink-striped suit because, let’s be honest, it looks like black will be my color of choice for a very long time). But when I walk off that plane back into Tampa International Airport, no magazine can tell me that I didn’t face the unknown of Africa with every last bit of courage and faith and I had in me.

“What is to give light must endure burning.”—Viktor Frankl

-Bob
written 07/06/11

Madonna of the World

Mary has always seemed just beyond by reach. I’ve tried to get on a “Rosary schedule” numerous times, never with much luck. I’ve prayed to her and asked for intercessions, but never with much conviction. But after hearing of the importance, better yet necessity, of Mary to a priesthood, I decided that it was time to stop messing around.

I’ve already mentioned this book several times, but this is because it has truly made an impact in my life and changed my whole relationship with Mary, our mother. The book is titled The World’s First Love by Archbishop Fulton Sheen. In it he describes “the Woman the World Loves,” going over Mary’s role in the Gospels and in the life of our Lord. After this he talks about “the World the Woman Loves,” describing Mary’s role in our lives and our world today.

Fulton Sheen says that, “If fatherhood has its prototype in the Heavenly Father…then certainly such a beautiful thing as motherhood shall not be without some original Mother, whose traits of loveliness every mother copies in varying degrees.” And clearly, this original Mother is Mary. She prepares the way for Jesus, physically as His mother, and spiritually as the one who prepares our souls for her Son.

A few good friends at the seminary performed a consecration to the Blessed Virgin this past school year. I was asked to join in, but I knew that I was nowhere near ready to do something like that. I admired their obvious love and reverence for her though. And I knew that one day I would be there too. Well, while being here I have certainly had to rely on the Lord more than ever, but at the same time I have also turned to Mary in an honest, if not at times desperate way.

I always knew that Mary held an incredibly special place in our Church, but it wasn’t until I learned more about her and the impact she played in the life of her Son, and the entire Church, that I started to appreciate this in a more personal way. Now I have started to realize the true love that she possesses, for her Son first of all, but also for all of us to whom she received at the crucifixion when Jesus said, “Woman, behold your son.”

And in this love Mary has sacrificed much, but now in heaven she intercedes for us in the same way that our earthly mothers do before the justice of our fathers. And I can say without a doubt that I have felt her presence and her mercy while being here. This is not only a great comfort being so far from my own earthy mother, but it also shines a whole new light on my faith. I don’t think I could describe it any better than Fulton Sheen when he says:

As, in the physical order, a man who grows up without the loving attention of a mother misses something that makes for gentleness and sweetness of character, so, in the spiritual order, those who grow up in Christianity without Mary lack a joy and happiness that come to those only who know her as mother. Orphans of the Spirit! Your Mother lives!

-Dan
written 07/10/11

Blue Lake

On the way to Mount Bomi there is a fork in the road. One way is to the top of the mount and the other way is to the Blue Lake. When we went to the top a few weeks ago we were able to look down onto the lake, but I have never actually gone there yet. Well, today Rachel, Jackie, and I decided to go.

It is well over an hour walk, so to make the trek worth it we packet food and activities so we could spend some time there and not get bored. On the way we also recruited two other guys who passed and decided to join us.

After we got there and ate we played a rousing game of Uno. Then I spotted a diving board (literally a board sticking out of a rock) so I thought I’d go sit on the end and have some good reflection time. But of course, according to Murphy’s Law, if anything could go wrong it probably will. So I was sitting on the board no more than 20 seconds when I suddenly heard a "blop." When I looked down I saw my phone drifting to the bottom.

I never intended to go into the lake. Give me the ocean any day, but lakes creep me out. All that still water festering with bacteria. Not to mention that this is also African waters. And in this particular lake there is a story of a giant anaconda that lives at the center. We were told, however, that this was a myth made a long time ago by miners in order to keep the Liberians from coming to the area.

Nevertheless, there was my phone sinking to the bottom. At this point it was inevitable, so I sucked it up (gave Jackie my camera to film) and dove in. The water was actually refreshing. I retrieved my phone, and by this time one of the other guys got in as well. And later on Rachel and Jackie got onto a canoe made from four logs tied together and a shovel as an oar.

The experiences in Liberia never stop. But they definitely make life interesting. And overall I’m glad the phone fell in so that in turn we all got in. And phones here are cheap. I’ve been told, and now observed, that even the poorest of the poor have cell phones here.

All in all, it was a nice trip to the lake.

-Dan
written 07/09/11

Sophia

I just laid down to sleep and remembered that I forgot to do night prayer. I am exhausted and really didn’t want to get up out of the comfort and security of my mosquito net crowned bed. Then a strange thought popped into my head. If I was married and had a wife who called out to me right now, would I even hesitate to get up? That was enough convincing for me.

As a seminarian studying for the priesthood, if God calls me to ordination then I won’t be blessed with a wife of my own in the normal sense, but the Church would become my bride. This I have known intellectually, but there is a big gap between knowing this in your mind and feeling this in your heart. Before tonight I don’t think this gap has ever been breached. But something stirred in me tonight.

It is a seemingly trivial event for a possible life-changing end, but hey, our God works in mysterious ways. I started to think of this concept of the Church becoming my bride, and suddenly all the faces and interactions with the people I have met here in Africa came flooding to mind. Maybe my previous experience, mistakes, and self-centeredness stifled my mind and didn’t allow me to look beyond and properly grasp this truth of the priesthood. But at this moment I saw all of these people in pure love.

After this all overcame me, I listened to two songs by Matt Maher: Sophia and Set Me As A Seal. I’ve never listened to these songs without a longing for a tangible bride one day (one was even the “first dance” at a wedding I attended…didn’t help). So I’m not exactly sure what drove me to listen to these at this moment. Either I was testing this epiphany of mine or trying to snap myself out of it. Either way, it did affect me in a new way. The first line to Sophia goes:

She’s so, you know, makes me want to be like Jesus.

Now, there are several women who have told me that they can’t wait for a guy to say this about them one day. Well, this experience, looking back, not only at my time in Africa but farther still, I can definitely say that I have a desire to be like Jesus. To be whatever the Church needs of me and whatever God is calling of me. Later the song says:

In your Sacred Heart I burn for you, could I burn with her in the flame of Truth,
where all my burdens float like an angel feather?
Sophia, you know me; Sophia, see through me;
Sophia, dance with me, help me make it through the night.

The Sophia in the song refers partially to a person, but Sophia also means “wisdom” in Greek. In this context, referring to the divine Wisdom of God. “Therefore I prayed, and prudence was given me; I pleaded, and the spirit of Wisdom came to me. For she is the instructress in the understanding of God, the selector of his works” (Wisdom 7:7, 8:4) May God continue to guide me in this journey and allow me to experience his love burning in his Sacred Heart. And may I then be transformed and so filled with this Love that I can’t help but share the flame of Truth with his universal Church. And as for my vocation, well...

I am, your Hands, tell me what your plan for this is…

-Dan
written 07/07/11

African Rundown

It has been about a month now since I came to Africa, and today I finally had the chance for some physical exertion (minus kicking the soccer ball around a bit in Monrovia when I first arrived). I went running this afternoon with David, one of the men on the mission. I’ve been bugging him for some time, and our schedules finally lined up.

Let me preface this by saying that I have never seen anybody else just running for the sake of exercise around Tubmanburg before. So we, of course, ended up running down the main road of town with the usual afternoon crowd. And it turns out that I can get stared at even more than I usually do. It was great to finally get out and exercise though, and I would get the occasional encouragement from a child yelling after the “white man.”

But I must say, I am very much used to our nice flat land in Florida, and Africa is nothing like that. There are constant hills to conquer. I remember occasionally laughing to myself back home after hearing dad say that he was sore after putting too much incline on the treadmill…well, I guess he’ll have the last laugh after all.

It is my goal, however, to make it to the top of Mount Bomi by the time I leave here in August. I will offer up the suffering that I will most definitely endure from the heat and the height, and make it symbolically my own climb to Calvary on this trip.

I will not do it alone though. I told this to David and he said that whenever I’m ready to let him know and he will go with me. Also, a little later I had two other men approach me and told me to let them know the next time we go running so that they can come along too.

And next up on my list after I conquer Mt. Bomi: hardcore parkour!

-Dan
written 07/06/11

America the Beautiful

Yesterday marked the day of independence for our country. And lucky enough, there are five Americans around these parts of Liberia: the three SMA missionaries, a Peace Corp volunteer nearby, and myself. So we celebrated it right.

We went all out. The ladies offered their house for the celebration, so they decorated (homemade mind you) before hand and we even had patriotic music to set the mood. We all chipped in on the cooking, so we had corn, baked beans, potato salad, hamburgers, and hotdogs. Freedom has never tasted so good. Rachel even dressed up as Paul Revere (mainly so she could yell, “The British are coming! The British are coming!” when Fr. Garry stopped by).

The 4th also marked our fourth day of celebrations for this past weekend. Last Friday was the feast day for the two brothers who are part of The Congregation of the Sacred Heart from India, so we had a special lunch at their house in honor of this. On Saturday we had a goodbye dinner for one of the brothers who is leaving for two months. Sunday we celebrated the Lord’s Resurrection day in our usual style of BananaGrams. And yesterday, of course, was our Independence Day.

So if you had any doubts as to whether or not we have any fun here in Africa, let your minds be at ease.

-Dan
written 07/05/11

Rich or Poor?

I came across an interesting question recently. It asked whether it would be harder to be poor in a rich country rather than in a bankrupt one. The question stuck with me, and instead of just staying in my own head, I was curious to see what others had to say.

So I set off in search of answers. I asked two of the other American missionaries and they said it would definitely be harder to be poor in a rich country. In a rich country you would have a constant reminder of what you yourself do not have, and in poorer countries, as the saying goes, ignorance is bliss. Not that they don’t know what’s out there, but they are not continually bombarded with advertisements and reminders. I then asked Tata, the Liberian woman who cooks for us, the same question. She said with fervor that it would be harder in a poor country. In a rich one you would most likely have parents or grandparents that could help you out. In a poor country, odds are that your whole family is in the same boat you are in because they stick together more often than not. Also, the physical work they must go through just to receive their daily bread is immense. On top of cooking for us all morning, Tata said that she also works in the bush farming because the pay is small to rely on the one job.

I believe that the answer really lies in your perspective of the question, however. Both sides have valid points, but both sides also fall short. You can look at poverty from a materialistic standpoint or you can look at poverty from a spiritual one. From a materialistic standpoint, I may have to agree with Tata. While in wealthier countries individuals might not seem to take as much notice of the poor, there are better social services and charities that can help with survival needs (food, water, shelter, etc.) and education. It also seems easier to get back on your feet, while my experience here hasn’t shown me too many opportunities for people to get out of the situations they are in.

If we choose to look at spiritual poverty, however, I think the wealthier countries might be harder. This also has to do with perspective I believe. In wealthier countries the mindset is more worldly and less God-centered. There is much more of a value placed of material objects and status, so it is by no means easy for people to accept the idea of spiritual poverty. And it would probably be safe to say that the typical man on the street barely ever gives a thought to the idea of poverty as a religious ideal. In poorer countries, on the other hand, the lack of riches and materials leads to a mindset that is centered more on the family and on God. Because what else do they have?

I have found this hard to accept myself. I am not wanting for anything for my survival where I am staying. I have food, water, shelter, and security. But the mindset I have is beyond survival to wanting comfort. I do have opportunities to go beyond and add superfluities to my life, but I have tried to make the effort, in the spirit of poverty and solidarity, to give up certain comforts that I could very well obtain.

Strictly speaking, poverty in itself in not a good thing, but we do not seek it for itself but for the positive values for which it prepares us. Jesus himself said, “Blessed are you who are poor, for the kingdom of God is yours” (Lk 6:20). So no matter where you are living or what situation in life you are in, we are all challenged to live out a frugality in our faith. And it may not be an easy way to live or a popular one, but this is because God’s thoughts are not ours so many will not like or understand them.

-Dan
written 07/04/11