Late have I loved You...

Today the Church celebrates the feast of Saint Augustine, whom we as Augustinians call our spiritual father, whose example and model, as well as Rule, of religious life we follow, and whose searching heart we strive to imitate.

The Confessions of St. Augustine was the first book I read upon my coming back to the Church in 2005. I was on a retreat and had the book recommended to me by a confessor, a kind and gentle man who was able to see beyond the great sins I was confessing to a heart that was searching and seeking for something greater, for something real, for something true. This confessor, who would later become my first Augustinian spiritual director, saw in my own journey many parallels with that of Saint Augustine, a man about whom I knew nothing at all.

I took this dear friar's advice and upon returning home from retreat I ordered the book and began reading it immediately upon its arrival. From the opening lines I was hooked, and I saw in Augustine a man who was articulating my own struggle, my own desires, my own restlessness, and who was shedding a luminous vision upon my own wounded heart.

So Augustine's Confessions famously begins:

Great are You, O Lord, and greatly to be praised; great is Your power, and of Your wisdom there is no end. And man, being a part of Your creation, desires to praise You, man, who bears about with him his mortality, the witness of his sin, even the witness that You resist the proud, — yet man, this part of Your creation, desires to praise You. You move us to delight in praising You; for You have made us for Yourself, and our hearts are restless till they rest in You.

This restlessness is the great human condition that Augustine explored from the perspective of his own lived experience, and in giving such beautiful articulation to this common struggle of every man he opened for all of us an interior passageway to the lived reality of the presence of God.

For Augustine, everything came down to the profound encounter with Jesus Christ to which every human being is beckoned. To encounter Jesus Christ is to enter into the mystery of life, the depths of beauty, and the experience of truth. Augustine saw that relationship with Jesus Christ was particularly experienced in our life in community with one another. It is for this reason that after his conversion and baptism he first lived in a kind of religious community, with friends who all together took up the common search for God.

This community experience profoundly affected Augustine, and so on his return to Africa he founded a monastery, and again after being called - against his will - to be a priest and bishop of the Church, he again founded a monastery, so that no matter where his duties would take him, he would always have a community to which he could return and live with his brothers. Eventually Augustine would write a rule for community living, the rule which we as Augustinians, but in fact many other Orders, as well, follow in our own religious life. This rule was deeply rooted in the community experience of the early Church as described in the Acts of the Apostles, and so Augustine writes, "The main purpose for you having come together is to live harmoniously in your house, intent upon God in oneness of mind and heart."

As Augustinians, though the Order was founded in 1244, Augustine always looms as our spiritual father, our guide, and we look to him for his theology, his philosophy, but especially for his spirituality so deeply rooted in love of Scripture, his profound sense of the need for community, and his particular emphasis on the humanity of the crucified Christ. He was a true contemplative who saw that his life of prayer brought him not only into deeper communion with God, but in Christ it brought him into deeper and truer communion with all humanity. He teaches us to set our hearts on what is truly good and beautiful and true, and to turn away from the vapid riches of the world. In one of his most beautiful passages from Book X of the Confessions he writes:

Late have I loved you, O Beauty so ancient and so new, late have I loved you! Behold, you were within me, while I was outside: it was there that I sought you, and, a deformed creature, rushed headlong upon these things of beauty which you have made. You were with me, but I was not with you. They kept me far from you, those fair things which, if they were not in you, would not exist at all. You have called to me, and have cried out, and have shattered my deafness. You have blazed forth with light, and have shone upon me, and you have put my blindness to flight! You have sent forth fragrance, and I have drawn in my breath, and I pant after you. I have tasted you, and I hunger and thirst after you. You have touched me, and I have burned for Your peace.

On this Feast of St. Augustine, may we all discover that true love which sets our hearts ablaze and fills us with the peace which can only come through Jesus Christ.

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Celebrating motherhood

Today the Church, and in a very special way the Augustinian family, celebrates the feast of St. Monica, the mother of Augustine and a woman of deep faith and trust in the mysterious power of God.

Monica is a woman to whom every mother can relate, and who wonderfully exemplifies the beauty and dignity of the vocation of wife and mother. Her faith and her prayers brought her pagan husband into the Christian faith, and won the heart of her now famous son (as well as her two less famous other children) for Jesus Christ, in a world which much like our own often celebrated values quite contrary to those of an authentic faith in Christ.

Early in Augustine's manhood Monica had an ominous dream concerning her son, by which love moved her to take extra concern for her son's salvation. Augustine writes:

And You sent Your hand from above, and drew my soul out of that profound darkness, when my mother, Your faithful one, wept to you on my behalf more than mothers are wont to weep the bodily death of their children. For she saw that I was dead by that faith and spirit which she had from You, and You heard her, O Lord. You heard her, and despised not her tears, when, pouring down, they watered the earth under her eyes in every place where she prayed; yea, You heard her.

Augustine makes clear throughout his Confessions that it was Monica's love, her tears, her perseverance, her humility, and her prayers that were the biggest vehicles of God's grace leading him back to Church and to his own deep encounter with the love of God through Jesus Christ.

Augustine and Monica shared a unique experience in Christian history, a shared vision or mystical experience at Ostia on their return to Africa from Milan. Augustine writes:

And when our conversation had arrived at that point, that the very
highest pleasure of the carnal senses, and that in the very brightest material light, seemed by reason of the sweetness of that life not only not worthy of comparison, but not even of mention, we, lifting ourselves with a more ardent affection towards the Selfsame, did gradually pass through all corporeal things, and even the heaven itself, whence sun, and moon, and stars shine upon the earth; yea, we soared higher yet by inward musing, and discoursing, and admiring Your works; and we came to our own minds, and went beyond them, that we might advance as high as that region of unfailing plenty, where You feed Israel for ever with the food of truth, and where life is that Wisdom by whom all these things are made, both which have been, and which are to come; and she is not made, but is as she has been, and so shall ever be; yea, rather, to have been, and to be hereafter, are not in her, but only to be, seeing she is eternal, for to have been and to be hereafter are not eternal. And while we were thus speaking, and straining after her, we slightly touched her with the whole effort of our heart; and we sighed, and there left bound the first-fruits of the Spirit (Rom 8:23); and returned to the noise of our own mouth, where the word uttered has both beginning and end. And what is like Your Word, our Lord, who remains in Himself without becoming old, and makes all things new (Wis 7:27)?

The sort of relationship that developed between Monica and Augustine, a relationship that opened the way for them to enjoy such a profound communal experience of the mystery of God, points to, I believe, the real vocation in all human relationships. We are placed on this earth to be in relationship with one another, and those relationships reach their fulfillment when they lead us into a deeper intimacy with God, an intimacy that destroys the illusory barriers of separation, separation from God and from each other. This mystical encounter shared by Augustine and Monica was a final parting gift to both of them before her death, a gift which confirmed in Monica a lifetime of movement and prayer on behalf of her son, and in Augustine it strengthened him to endure the painful experience of her death and to persevere through the difficult challenges that his faith was just about to place in his path.

It is about Monica's death that we find perhaps Augustine's most beautiful writing, and this should come as no surprise. While the early Christian community as described in the Acts of the Apostles famously formed Augustine's ideal of religious community, it is important to remember that his first experience of such a community was at Cassisiucum, where his mother lived with him and other sojourners in faith. She who followed him his whole life long striving always to bring him into the Catholic faith spent her final days resting peacefully in community with him, enjoying the fruits of her prayers so that she could finally die in peace. So as Augustinians and all those who live a life inspired by Augustine's ideal of community and of religious life, we must never forget the debt we owe to Monica, who embraced her vocation as mother, as her children's first teacher and first witness to the Catholic faith, and whose constant prayer and sacrifice shine forth as a most beautiful model of the beauty of the vocation if motherhood.

Later in Augustine's life after the death of his mother he was made bishop of Hippo. One of his important duties as bishop was to be arbiter of disputes between Catholics of his diocese. In this task he surely learned much from his saintly mother, about whom he writes:

This great gift You bestowed also, my God, my mercy, upon that good handmaid of Yours, out of whose womb You created me, even that, whenever she could, she showed herself such a peacemaker between any differing and discordant spirits, that when she had heard on both sides most bitter things, such as swelling and undigested discord is wont to give vent to, when the crudities of enmities are breathed out in bitter speeches to a present friend against an absent enemy, she would disclose nothing about the one unto the other, save what might avail to their reconcilement. A small good this might seem to me, did I not know to my sorrow countless persons, who, through some horrible and far-spreading infection of sin, not only disclose to enemies mutually enraged the things said in passion against each other, but add some things that were never spoken at all; whereas, to a generous man, it ought to seem a small thing not to incite or increase the enmities of men by ill-speaking, unless he endeavour likewise by kind words to extinguish them. Such a one was she—Thou, her most intimate Instructor, teaching her in the school of her heart (Confessions IX.ix.21).

As Augustine reveals more and more about his mother, we see her as a strong and devoted woman, a caring and self-sacrificing mother, a leader of the community to whom others would seek out for her wisdom and compassion, indeed a model of all virtue who continues to speak to us today, who thankfully intercedes on our behalf with the same tender love and devotion with which she prayed for Augustine, and whose sole desire for each of us now is that we enter more deeply into the life and love and mystery of Jesus Christ.

I can think of no better way to end a post about this beautiful saint than in Augustine's own words reflecting on her death:

And then little by little did I bring back my former thoughts of Your handmaid, her devout conversation towards You, her holy tenderness and attentiveness towards us, which was suddenly taken away from me; and it was pleasant to me to weep in Your sight, for her and for me, concerning her and concerning myself. And I set free the tears which before I repressed, that they might flow at their will, spreading them beneath my heart; and it rested in them, for Your ears were near me (Confessions IX.xii.33).


May she therefore rest in peace with her husband, before or after whom she married none; whom she obeyed, with patience bringing forth fruit Luke 8:15 unto You, that she might gain him also for You. And inspire, O my Lord my God, inspire Your servants my brethren, Your sons my masters, who with voice and heart and writings I serve, that so many of them as shall read these confessions may at Your altar remember Monica, Your handmaid, together with Patricius, her sometime husband, by whose flesh You introduced me into this life, in what manner I know not. May they with pious affection be mindful of my parents in this transitory light, of my brethren that are under You our Father in our Catholic mother, and of my fellow citizens in the eternal Jerusalem, which the wandering of Your people sighs for from their departure until their return. That so my mother's last entreaty to me may, through my confessions more than through my prayers, be more abundantly fulfilled to her through the prayers of many (Confessions IX.xiii.37).

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Location:E 53rd St,Chicago,United States

A student again

I am all registered for classes as of today. In fact, I am registered for the Spring and the so-called "J-term" (a four week term in January with only one class), as well.

I'm excited to be a student again. Some of the classes excite me already - two courses in Patristics, one each semester, and a Spring course on the Gospel of John in Greek. Some courses could be really good or really boring, such as Introduction to the Old Testament, a moral theology course, and some others. Much of that depends on the professor. A course that I have heard many people rave about because of its power is a spirituality course on survivors of human rights abuses. That could be rather intense.

In all I am very happy, and really excited to begin the year. I ordered my computer last night, and am all set to order my books. The community here in the friary is wonderful, and I am thrilled with the student formation director, a friar I have known from the beginning of my journey, and who will challenge me and keep me honest and help me grow - everything a director should do.

Now I have a few days to relax a little, get some housework done, and by the end of the week the whole community will have arrived - two of our guys are at World Youth Day in Madrid - and so we can get about the business of living and praying together, with one mind and heart intent upon God.


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Location:S Cornell Ave,Chicago,United States

My kind of town...

In less than half an hour I will be landing in Chicago, beginning the next stage of this adventure called religious life. The past ten days have been a whirlwind, and I enjoyed every minute of it. I met my new niece for the first time, saw my family for the first time in over a year, hung out with friends, and, of course, made my first profession of vows of chastity, poverty and obedience as an Augustinian friar.

The profession itself was beautiful. I arrived in Philadelphia the Monday before profession, and lived that week in Bellesini Friary in Ardmore, PA, which is our pre-novitiate house of formation. During the week I felt very calm and relaxed, and really enjoyed my time. On the Thursday before profession, Bienve's sister and niece arrived from Puerto Rico. Neither of them spoke English, so I did my best impersonation of a Spanish speaker, which means I said hello, thank you, you're welcome, and not much else. We took them on a tour of Villanova's beautiful campus, which they seemed to enjoy very much.

Finally Saturday arrived, and still I remained very calm. As the day moved along I didn't feel nervous so much as I just wanted time to move along bit quicker. The friary is located on the grounds of a parish church, St. Colman's, and since I knew that they had confessions there I decided to. Go before profession. So at about 3:55 I walked over to the church, dressed in my white habit.





As I walked in the church there was a man, a layman, up in the sanctuary making some preparations before Mass. He saw me walk in and approached me and asked, "Does Father know that you're here?"

I thought it a rather odd question, but just told him no, that I had just seen that there were confessions at 4:00 and so came over. He seemed to look at me a little funny, but said he would tell Father that I was there. The only thing I could think of was that they don't get many people for confession, and so maybe the priest waited for someone to show up. None of it made much sense, but in any case I took my seat in spew in the back near the confessional and waited. And waited. A few more people showed up, and we waited, then a few more. Not a lot of time had passed, maybe fifteen minutes, but a lot of time I did not have, so finally I left.

As I was walking back to the friary I saw the same man sitting outside. He seemed surprised to see me and said, "Father usually stays until 4:30 at least." I informed him that he wasn't there and that I had no more time to wait, that I was making my first profession of vows at 5:00, and so I had to go. He stared at me a moment with a look that was at the same time both confused and perturbed. He told me he would go tell Father, an then he walked off, and I.

As I was walking away suddenly it all became clear, the veil of confusion was lifted, and I literally laughed out loud. He saw me walk in the church, dressed in a religious habit, knew that the friars lived right next door, though not actually associated with the parish, and thought I was there then to hear confession, not receive it! He may have never figured that out, but it gave me a great laugh.

So with that, I returned to the friary, gathered up Bienve and his family, and off to the church we went. And it was finally when I arrived at the church, got out of the car, and took a breath, that all of the nervousness that had so pleasantly been absent came rushing upon me. I became nauseous, though thankfully kept my lunch down, and my brain became completely scattered in a million directions. To add to it all, there were so many people there whom I had not seen in over a year that I kept bouncing around the church on a wave of hellos and how are yous and long time no sees, and the squall in my stomach grew fiercer and fiercer.

Finally, though, the Mass began, and the beauty of ritual is that it simply moves you along, and so autopilot took over to a certain degree. Bienve and I processed in with Fr. Mickey, our provincial, the lector and altar boy, and we took our seats with our families. From the moment I sat down I don't think a smile once left my face, and people kept commenting after how I was positively beaming. The same is true of Bienve. Both of us were wo filled with the joy of the moment, the joy of the Holy Spirit. The Mass was a regular Sunday Mass, until after the Gospel, at which point Fr. Jack, the novice master, called us forward to state our intentions.

After this, Fr. Mickey delivered his homily, which was wonderful - warm, personal, deeply rooted in the Gospel. That Sunday's Gospel was the story of the Canaanite woman who asked Jesus to heal her daughter, and Fr. Mickey, with a sort of earnestness-in-jest, joked that in my case it was Jesus who was the Canaanite woman, always coming after me, pleading with me, persistent in his call, until finally I said yes.

After the homily we were called forward again, this time for a series of questions.





After responding to the questions together (Bienve is with me here in this picture, you just can't see him), I then sat down as Bienve made his profession of vows.











Then it was my turn. I knelt down, and the provincial and I both held our hands on the Rule and Constitutions of the Order, and I made my profession, calling on the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary and our Holy Father Saint Augustine to deepen my baptismal consecration and conform myself more deeply and perfectly to Jesus Christ through a consecrated life of chastity, poverty, and obedience, for one year.

After the profession itself is a moment that was powerfully rich in imagery. First the black habits of the professed friars are brought up to be blessed by the provincial, and then each of us, with a friar of our choosing there to assist us and vest us, and in the full presence and view of the congregation,
removes the white novice habit (white to remind us of our baptismal consecration and purification in Jesus Christ) and then are vested in the black habit (black to remind us of the need for penance and mortification in this present life).

After vesting in the black habit for the first time (officially, at least...), we then receive the Rule and Constitutions of the Order, and then leave our families and receive the embrace of and then sit with the friars - about thirty-five were present - a very moving and powerful image of leaving all behind in order to follow Christ. This was a very emotional moment for me, and for Bienve, as well, and especially for our families. Several people commented after the Mass how deeply that part of the ritual moved them, which reinforces the beauty of well done ritual.

From here the Mass continued as normal, and after Mass the Provincial, myself, and my two witnesses - Fr. Joe Farrell, OSA, and my Aunt Lois aka Sr. Rose Lawrence, IHM, sign the book where I had hand-written my vows. Then after there was a very nice reception in the parish hall, with all the friars and all our family, about one hundred people in all. Then, finally, I got to go home and just visit with my family for the rest of the week, which was simply wonderful. I spent most of the week in Sea Isle City, I got to spend time with all my siblings, my nieces and nephews, including meeting my new niece, Addison Grace (my younger sister's third child, born August 2) for the first time. I also got to see some good friends and some of the good people from my home parish.



Finally today the big transition began, and at 10:00 this morning my parents dropped me off at the airport in Philly, and I was off to Chicago, the flight on which this post began, though now it is after 9 and I am settled in nicely. So here I am, my first night in Chicago, preparing for a new adventure, very excited, very content. These next few days will give me an opportunity to see the city, to pick out my classes at Catholic Theological Union, and settle into the new routine of professed life at an Augustinian theologate. As always, I thank you for your continued prayer, and I assure you of mine.

St. Augustine, pray for us!

Here are a few more pictures:

Before the profession, Dad, Grandpop and me:





Mom and Dad:




Recessing out after Mass:





With Grandpop at reception:



Some of the family...




With some friars:




With the Provincial and Bienve:





Mom and Dad again...




With some good friends:



And at the end of the night, the three Jims were ready to go:







And from the week with my family, so or fun with the kids:





I'm losing at Yahtzee pretty bad...





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First Profession of Vows