We often talk about the need positive role models in the media today, but we rarely talk about the need for priests as role models; they are largely absent from today’s modern media landscape. And when they do happen to be included in a television show or a movie, they are frequently presented as older gentlemen spaced out on God who insists on calling everyone he meets “my child” and who inhabit a world few if any of us could reach… and might not want to if we could. Characterizations that on some visceral gut level has the opposite effect of being inspiring.

Which is one of the many reasons I am grateful for the release of the new Robert Rodriguez film Machete. In the interests of full disclosure, films by Robert Rodriguez have been guilty pleasures of mine for a very long time. But when I first saw the trailer for Machete with Cheech Marin as a vigilante cleric…
Priest: “I took a vow of peace… and now you want me to kill all of these men?”

Machete: “Yes bro… I mean, Padre.”

Priest (shrugging): “I’ll see what I can do.”
That’s right, this priest does not only pray for justice… HE DISPENSES IT!!! [HMMM… HMMM… HAAWW… HAAWWW!!!]

Okay, I can imagine that my Christian morality teacher is somewhere reading this with his head buried in hands, sobbing uncontrollably, and wondering how he had failed me. But that’s why it’s a guilty pleasure. Besides, there has always been a tongue-in-cheek, comic book unreality to Rodriguez’s movies in which the director lets his audience know that even HE knows what is being presented is ridiculous. Trust me, I did not find ironic entertainment when I saw the very realistic violence of Saving Private Ryan… and I’ve still been a little too nervous to see The Hurt Locker, as important as both of those films are.

Of course, I am also not actually suggesting that a gun-totting Cheech Marin is a positive role model for priests. When the trailer alone …

The big thing in the news right now is the debate on the Islamic center in lower Manhattan.  I have to say that I’ve been struggling for a few days with what to say on this topic, but too much has been going on to not say anything.  After all, if I write a blog for an online magazine for spiritual seekers, it’s kind of hard not to comment on an issue that focuses so much on faith.

I do have to say that my first response to this issue was not as of a spiritual seeker, not as someone who is devoting his life to religious life, but as someone who is an American.  It was hard for me to not see this as a freedom of religion issue.  While I do understand the arguments by some who are against this project—those of course who are not obviously using the issue to stoke fear for their own political gain by calling us down to our lowest common denominator instead of up to our highest values—I would still have to argue that the Bill of Rights does not exist because it assumed that people of different faith traditions would usually see eye-to-eye, it exists because our history reminds us that many people wouldn’t.

It’s a history I wish some Catholic politicians would remember before they decide to offer a full-throated support against the project.  In the 1840s and 50s, there existed a political movement in the City of New York known as, ironically, the Know Nothings.  While their name may sound more descriptive today of the quality of their arguments, it actually is derived from the response its members would give when questioned about their sometimes violent activities, “I know nothing.”  Their main organizing principle was to organize against a faith tradition that was seen to be outside of the mainstream and therefore a threat to the republic.  Their argument was that members of this faith tradition, in addition to being different from the mainstream, were actually agents of a nefarious foreign power.  …

One of the exciting ministries of my community, the Paulist Fathers, is the film production studio in Los Angeles. In 1960 Fr. Ellwood “Bud” Kieser founded Paulist Productions and over the course of fifty years, created projects that have featured such stars as Raul Julia, Martin Sheen, Carol Burnett, Patty Duke, John Amos, Carroll O’Connor, Walter Matthau, Ed Asner, Blair Underwood, Jane Seymour, Tim Matheson, and Ron Howard.

Last week while at our community’s house in Lake George, some of us decided to go see a movie and one of the people in our group was one of the former presidents of Paulist Productions. And as I sat next to him while the previews flashed across the screen, something occurred to me; this person had met a lot of people in Hollywood… which made me realize that I potentially had the opportunity to move up a VERY important list. So I asked him the question.

“So… did you ever meet Kevin Bacon?”

“Uhhh, no. Our paths never crossed.”

Rats.  I’m still five degrees away.

Part of our Catholic tradition involves a concept known as “natural law,” a term used to describe a “right” ordering to the universe.  As a life-long Yankees fan I had never had any trouble understanding that concept, especially during the late nineties, where World Championships were like Christmas… they happened every year.  It was a “right ordering” of the universe that had never really been challenged: some teams are usually up, some teams are usually down, and no matter how good the Boston Red Sox ever get, they will always play second fiddle to the greatest sports franchise in world history (Manchester United be damned).

So you can imagine my… my… what’s the word… “shock” and “surprise” just seem too soft to describe the experience of having one’s entire universe re-ordered… abject horror when, in 2004 the Boston Red Sox overcame a three game deficit—something NO TEAM had ever done in either baseball or basketball—to win the American League Championship Series (ALCS) against my beloved Bronx Bombers.

But it didn’t make sense to me…. in years past it seemed as though that the Lord Almighty always intervened to ensure that His favorite team on the planet would end up victorious.  Jeffrey Maier would make a crucial catch to ensure victory, Derek Jeter would make the ultimate flip play to keep the followers of Moneyball from becoming too haughty, and Aaron FABULOUS Boone (yes, I substituted in my own F-word, deal with it) would clinch victory in extra innings to ensure a World Series berth.  I could not shake the feeling that SOMETHING must have happened SOMEWHERE to cause such a radical disordering in the fall of 2004.

Watching my television screen that autumn… it’s like I FINALLY understood the meaning of the Christmas special, “A Year Without A Santa Claus.”

Two years later, my universe was re-ordered again when I entered the Paulist Fathers.  During those first few weeks, the novitiate (freshman) class went on a road trip to different Paulist parishes and foundations, and one of the final stops on our trip was …

I had exactly seven days left in Austin and I had not yet eaten the second greatest burger in Texas according to Texas Monthly Magazine.  Why I thought I would have room in my stomach for the second greatest burger in Texas I do not know… the last few weeks had been a gastrointestinal marathon of good-bye lunches, dinners, and breakfasts with the good parishioners of St. Austin Parish.  Not that I was an unwilling participant in all of restaurant hopping, mind you.

One of my favorite Paulist preachers here in Washington, DC used to be the rector of our parish in Rome.  One of the reasons I like his preaching so much is that he usually has great stories to tell, especially on the topic of saints; he almost always comes up with some interesting aspect of the saint’s life that’s not usually found in the official listing.  But it is obvious where his heart is because many of his homilies start out with the phrase, “There is this church in Rome…”  I only bring that up here because I can imagine a time in the future in which I repeatedly fall into the trap of starting most of my homilies with the phrase, “There is the taco stand in Austin…”

So I am sitting at the Counter Café on Lamar with Bob, who has insisted that I have to experience the second greatest burger in Texas before I leave; one half pound of grilled meat topped with cheddar cheese, jalapeno peppers AND a poached egg.  And I am grateful to God not only for the feast before me, but for His grace in providing extra Prilosec OTC in my life so that I would even be able to enjoy this fine banquet.  Legendary Austin musician Charlie Sexton comes in to the restaurant and sits behind me.  Life is good… indeed, beat NOT so lonely.

As lunch begins, Bob and I begin to talk and “somehow” the conversation turns to all of …

Over the past few weeks, I have been on a culinary tear through the “Cheap Eats” Capital of the world: Austin, Texas . You see, on the east Coast, cupcakes are NOT served out of a trailer. On the east Coast, our idea of barbeque involves defrosting hot dogs in a microwave. On the East Coast, a breakfast taco is simply when you eat leftovers from Chili’s the following morning. So I have been spending these last days in Austin frantically visiting all of my favorite places… Amy’s Ice Cream, Torchy’s Tacos, Taco Deli, Iron Works… you name it. Someday I’m going to write a book about my experiences over these past few weeks: I’m going to call it “Eat, Pray, Austin.”

So I’ve taken up golf this past year in Austin.  I have mixed feelings about this development in my life.  Yes, I am enjoying the game… but I still can’t shake the feeling that this is somehow a natural progression of my priestly formation.  Priests and golf seem to be so synonymous that I wouldn’t be surprised if the bishop handed me a seven iron right after putting the oils on my hands during the ordination service.

This development in my life makes me wonder what will be coming next.  Seriously, it CAN’T really be wearing cardigans.  So many priests I know wear cardigans, but that can’t be allowed to happen.  Catholic teachings on the sanctity of life aside, I am really going to have to find some trusted friends who will agree to give me the business end of a Colt 45 if I ever start to wear cardigans.  (Okay, maybe I’m being  extreme, but I would would hope that someone would at least slap me.)

But in the area of golf, I suppose if the President of the United States has also taken to golf recently—someone who regularly plays basketball with pro players and had Jay-Z at his Inauguration—then maybe it’s safer to move into this new form a recreation than I originally thought.

Still, I do see direct links between the game of golf and my impending priesthood… most notably in the area of prayer.  For example, a few weeks ago I walked up to the first tee and pulled the driver out of my bag.  After setting the ball, I took a moment and blessed myself with the sign of the cross.  I didn’t necessarily hit the shot of my life, but the ball did not do the wildly to the right like it usually does, so I decided to keep up my petitions for Divine intervention throughout the day.

But after crossing myself for a few more holes, I began to ponder what I was doing.  I was saying—through my actions—that what I was about to do was actually …

If you’re like me and have been reading the news over the past couple of years, it is hard not to be concerned about the bees… or more importantly, the lack thereof.  The phenomenon of “Colony Collapse Disorder” has been going on for at least the past few years as the nation’s beekeepers have noticed a steep decline in colonies with each progressing year.

So, being the student for the priesthood, I thought recently that I would do what a man in my position could do; I prayed for the return of the bees during the prayers of the faithful.  When I offered this petition to God, I did hear some giggling in the pews after offering my intention, but I did not care… these are Biblical issues we are dealing with.

After Mass at dinner, a fellow Paulist brother could not help but comment on my somewhat unconventional prayer. The main gist of the commentary was that I could have been praying for something more important, a petition for “world peace” for example.  That perspective, however, landed on a particular nerve.

“I hate praying for World Peace.  I mean, it’s kind of a BS prayer that very few people ever mean….”

My unexpected response to his evaluation of my prayer life resulted in a very emphatic yet indignant, “What?!?!”

“Seriously, how long have people been praying for ‘world peace’? And after all of that, do we still have war? It seems to me that God has given His answer on the issue of ‘world peace,’ so I figure that we might as well move on to other matters.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“It’s just a cliché prayer, that’s all.  It’s just one of those prayers that people dust off when they have to come up with something ‘profound.’  It’s as if people say ‘I have to come up with three original prayers during service today and I have NO idea what to say… what the heck, let’s just pray for world peace.’  It turns Mass into a Miss America pageant.”

“Wow… you, my friend, need Jesus.”

“Chill …

In 1630, a ship named the Arbella left England bound for the Massachusetts Bay Colony.  On board the ship were religious dissidents who wanted to reform the Church of England by creating a new more purified community… otherwise known as Puritans.

Before the boat landed, Governor John Winthrop gave a sermon entitled “A Model of Christian Charity.”  When he gave this sermon, he wanted to remind the people on board of why they were traveling. And in so doing, he established one of the central ideas about the meaning of this new land that would be passed down for generations.  He said to these early colonists:
For we must consider that we shall be as a city upon a hill.  The eyes of all people are upon us.  So that if we shall deal falsely with our God in this work we have undertaken… we shall be made a story and a by-word throughout the world.  We shall open the mouths of enemies to speak evil of the ways of God… We shall shame the faces of many of God’s worthy servants, and cause their prayers to be turned into curses upon us… til we be consumed out of the good land whither we are a-going.
The Puritans who heard this sermon on board the ship already had a sense that they were embarking on something profound.  In fact, they saw parallels between the Israelites who were given a promised land by God and this new place to which they were heading.  But Winthrop wanted to remind the voyagers on that boat the other aspect of that story: the gift of a Promised Land was not a privilege but a responsibility.

Because part of Israel’s story in the Old Testament centers around the times they forgot this important truth.  And the longing we hear for the lost Jerusalem in the Book of Isaiah occurs during a period of exile, when the Israelites were removed from their Promised Land because they were unfaithful to God’s covenant.   Because they had forgotten “what the Lord [requires of us is] to do justice, to love kindness and to …

As many of you know, I am from the great state of New Jersey.  And when I share that with people I have met at my current assignment in Austin, Texas, one of the things I have been frequently been told is that I don’t SOUND like I am from New Jersey.  Which I understand… in the many years I have spent living away from the land of my birth, I have come to appreciate that the window most people view my home state either has involves Tony Soprano or someone named Snooki (whom I have since learned is actually from Marlboro, New York).

Having grown up in a country-suburban environment, I was largely insulated from incorporating into my speech the verbal-stylings that Frank Sinatra helped make famous.  Still, there are times when my cultural origin sometimes slips out.  It happens when I’m in a Starbucks and I order a cup of CAW-fee.  It also happens when I get mad; one of the many wonderful traits that people from my home state are known for is the frequent use of… ummm… colloquialisms.  Colorful colloquialisms.  Colloquialisms that would sound inappropriate coming from someone who dresses like I do on Sundays.  Yes, Johnny Cash also dressed in black and frequently used those kinds of words, but he didn’t wear a white tab below his neck.  Consequentially, a lot of my time in priestly formation has been spent cleaning up the truck-driver mouth.

So a few months ago, I gave a reflection during daily Mass.  During the reflection, I mentioned that because of our limited human nature, we all have a propensity to screw up.  And because none of us are perfect, we all need the help of God for not only the guidance to do better in our lives, but also to have the will and the strength.  After the Mass was over, I was feeling relatively good about my commentary on the sinful condition… but the pastor who was presiding wanted to talk to me afterwards about what I said.

“You know, if you’re going …