March 2, 2008

Lent has moved quite quickly. Already, more than half of the season is over and the Easter Triduum approaches in a few short weeks. As I wrote before, I have been concelebrating the mass each morning at a different church around Rome – most of which are churches that date to the 5th Century or earlier (or are churches reconstructed on sites where the original church was that old). After the mass, a certain fellowship has grown around the “Station Church bar”. Of course, a bar to an Italian signifies a café (and not the place to get a drink at 7:40 in the morning). The other day, I was discussing the four tables, which are the center of my life: the altar, the meal table, the desk (where I am spending a lot of time writing now), and the foosball table (okay, this might be a bit unique to me but the idea holds). The table holds an important place in history, as a place where families come together and as a place to worship God (for example, the Passover is a Jewish feast celebrated in one’s home with one’s family). The four tables was a symbolic way of speaking of these key places or components in my life: communion with the Lord, food or substance with family and friends, consecrated work and study, and fun. Balance in these areas is essential.

This morning, I awoke around 8am – rather late for a priest on a Sunday. While most priests celebrate multiple masses on a weekend, I generally concelebrate at the only Sunday mass at the North American College. At mass, the celebrant was the bishop from the diocese of Venice, Florida, and the second year seminarians were instituted as acolytes. The institution of acolyte marks continued progress towards holy orders, as the seminarian is entrusted with the care of the vessels and serving at mass. During the institution, the bishop symbolically hands the paten with bread to the acolyte, entrusting them to serve at the Lord’s altar. Many of us, myself included, began as an altar server in grade school and therefore might easily overlook the significance. Often in the bible, especially the Old Testament, we read of those who entered into the Lord’s presence. Moses, when he ascended the mountain and encountered the burning bush, removed his shoes to signify the holy ground he walked upon (interestingly, we now do the opposite – wearing our nicest shoes). Aaron enters the holy of holies, the sanctuary of the Ark of the Covenant, with great reverence; in fact, others enter to incense but are unauthorized and die. Numerous Hebrew laws speak of those authorized to enter the sanctuary of the Temple and the cleansing rituals they must first perform (and special vestments – much like the ministers still wear today). The new acolytes like those authorized in scripture are now commissioned to serve at the Lord’s altar.

The sanctuary with the altar at the center of our worship is often marked and set apart from the rest of the Church. Before entering the sanctuary, the priest, deacon, and servers genuflect to the tabernacle or bow to the altar acknowledging the Lord’s presence. Those in the sanctuary are called to be models for the people, reminding them with the dignity of their actions and behavior of the important mystery that unfolds before us. It is a challenge to always be attentive to this presence of the Lord, not only in the sanctuary but in our lives as a whole.

After mass and brunch, I began to prepare for the Clericus Cup basketball game. Last year, the Vatican began a friendly (but competitive) soccer league between the various seminaries in Rome. This spring, they have added a basketball league. We arrived at the complex (owned in fact, by the Knights of Columbus) and received uniforms (with sponsors of the Clericus Cup). I felt like I was in grade school again (the court was the size of what many schools play on). Yet, one of the things our team discussed before we took the court was who we are. We are certainly not professional athletes but priests and seminarians. It is important for people to recognize our charity and authentic holiness even when trying our hardest to beat the competition. Writing this blog, I was reflecting on how we cannot separate our personalities and attitudes on the altar with the rest of our lives. We must remain men of faith. We must remember to praise the Lord in all that we do. We must remember that we all are invited to the one table of the Lord and share in fellowship. The Clericus Cup provides us another opportunity to interact with our Christian brothers from throughout this world. This game we played a team from mostly Eastern Europe (Croatians, Lithuanians, Slovakians, and a Filipino – yes, I know, not part of Eastern Europe). Fans cheered us on to victory – and I left happy with my 2 points (the last 2 in the game in fact) as we won by about 15. But perhaps the greatest victory was in our charity towards one another. No one played “dirty” to win. And after the game, both teams huddled in prayer. In youth leagues, we certainly have that mission to remind those playing in the gyms throughout the diocese, that our calling as Christians does not end on Sunday after mass but extends to our sports games on Sunday afternoon and to the dinner table Sunday evening. May the Lord continue to make all of us aware of his abiding presence!