tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19274782331301905502024-02-07T05:52:19.856+01:00FUS Kartause Gaming: Catholic Culture & Austrian Study Abroad NewsTall Tales, True Stories, & Interesting Happenings from Franciscan University's Study Abroad Program based in Gaming, Austria.N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.comBlogger272125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-48208714324305253212012-01-04T15:20:00.000+01:002012-01-04T15:20:23.389+01:00Trust in God: Mountains, Miracles, and Mud Pies<i>A blog post by Leanna Praetzel, Fall 2011 Semester </i><br />
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Forty minutes until my flight from Chicago was leaving, and I still had to
clear customs, figure out where my luggage should go, switch terminals, go
through security, and locate my gate number? The scenario sounded all too
familiar...<br />
<br />
Right off the bat I was behind- It turns out the airline was handing out
customs fast passes while I was busy singing <i>The National Anthem</i> with my
good friend Joe and getting yelled at for calling my Dad while still on the
plane. "It's going to be okay," I thought as my friends helped me get through
the line and grab my checked bag from the belt. Not knowing where to put it (I
still had to fly to Cleveland), I asked the man working with the luggage. "Belt
seven," he said. I knew this whole ordeal was a test of trust, and I had to make
it on my plane in time, so, even though the screen read "Cancun", I put my bag
on belt seven.<br />
<br />
And then I was alone. I rode the shuttle to Terminal Two like an airport
worker told me to do, and upon arriving there noticed that my flight was delayed
ten minutes. My excitement was cut short, though, when I realized in the line
for security that I was in the wrong terminal. I paused mid-panic, and decided I
was <i>completely</i> going to rely on God. After getting through security, I
ran. My legs were wobbling, my bags were ripping, random stuff kept falling
everywhere, and (surprisingly) I was laughing! I must have looked like such a
fool! Passing by another departure board, I saw my plane was delayed another
twenty minutes. I felt so special... like God was making the plane wait just for
me!<br />
<br />
Of course I arrived with time to spare. I talked the whole way home to an
exchange student from Prague, and was greeted by my entire family in the baggage
claim area. I was not, however, greeted by my checked bag. "Maybe it didn't make
it to the plane in time," my Dad said. We filled out a form and were told it
would arrive the next day.<br />
<br />
One week later and I still did not have my bag. At first I joked with my
friends that it might be enjoying Cancun. But it wasn't long before I started
pouting. A whole semester abroad's worth of stuff- gone? My dad figured out that
I actually had not taken my bag past customs (oops... how was I supposed to
know?!) and that I might never get it back. It was the day I accepted the fact
that I might never see it again - the day I stopped whining and started wanting
God's will- that I got it back. After a week of being "untraceable", my bag was
just sitting there on my front porch! I couldn't help but think about how much
God really must love me.<br />
<br />
This past semester, I feel like God has taken every opportunity to challenge
my trust in Him... and there is no struggle anymore for me to see why. God
wants me to experience first-hand how powerful He is! Through trusting Him to
take me where He wanted me to go all semester, I've seen so much! I've seen how
He took the grotto in Lourdes- a filthy dump, a pigsty!- and, by allowing Mary
to appear there, turned it into a holy shrine, a pinnacle of faith. I've
witnessed Him taking the small, dirty city of Medjugorje and, through our Mother
Mary, creating a glorious pilgrimage site. I take mud and make mud pies... He
takes mud and makes mountains, miracles, and men!<br />
<br />
How could I NOT trust a God like that? A God who crafted the Swiss Alps and
the Austrian waterfalls, who fashioned the Italian hillsides and the German
ravines? A God whose Spirit moves in every country and stands without fail by
his Bride the universal Catholic Church? A God who, through his Son, passed on
the keys of the Kingdom to our first pope, Peter, whose very bones still lie
under the Vatican Basilica? This real and living God has shown me so much this
past semester through my gradual trust in Him.. And I can't thank Him enough. <br />N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-22105876459470210122011-12-20T12:27:00.001+01:002011-12-20T12:27:29.261+01:00The Advent Market & Semester End<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><i>A blog post by student Chelsea Graham, Fall 2011</i></span><br />
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Oh the happenings of this week! From “Adventmarkts” and
Krampus, baptisms, and finals—I couldn’t think of a better way to spend the
second to last week in Austria…except maybe minus the finals.<o:p></o:p></div>
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All throughout Europe, during the season of Advent,
communities come together and have Advent markets, or in German “Adventmarkts.”
There was one here at the Kartause for the past week, and although I miss the
quiet, peaceful Kartause, I have enjoyed the market. It’s almost like a craft
fair back in the states, but all Christmassy…. And with the Adventmarkt come
some of Austria’s traditions…Like the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Krampus</i>
or <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Perchten</i>. Unlike in the States,
Santa, or St. Nicholas, does not bring coal for the kids on the “Naughty List,”
instead the Krampus come and whip the naughty boys and girl.</div>
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I had been warned
of this Austrian tradition by some of the Kartause kids, but I guess I thought
they were over exaggerating…Well they weren’t. The Krampus are terrifying!! And
I’m sure I’m overreacting, but seriously. When someone comes up to you in a
huge hairy costume with bells and a whip and they stare you down, and you keep
backing up, and they continue to walk closer…it’s scary! Not at all what I expected…Especially
when they came out with eerie red fog and lit fires! And there were several of
them—There was no way of escaping them! But it was fun at the same time…if that
makes any sense! It was really neat to experience an authentic Austrian
Christmas tradition.</div>
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Also this week, during the Vigil mass for the Feast day of
the Immaculate Conception, one of the LCI students was baptized, confirmed, and
received Communion for the first time. It was one of the most exciting times of
the semester. I have known Ksenia, and as the weeks drew closer the excitement
grew all around the Kartause. And at mass on Wednesday, the whole Kartause
community was there in support of her, and it was an incredibly beautiful
experience to witness. Seeing someone make the decision to come into the Church
all on her own, and seeing her excitement was such a blessing, and made this
semester that much more incredible. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And also with the end of the semester comes finals. I’ve
finished one, so only four left to go! But to be perfectly honest, the tests
really aren’t too bad. I’m not saying I enjoy them, but this semester’s classes
have been incredible. Taking theology and philosophy classes were the perfect
way to compliment this semester, and going over everything we’ve learned kind
of ends the semester perfectly…So I wouldn’t say finals are all that bad! <o:p></o:p></div>
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Spending my last week at the Kartause will be hard. I’m full
of excitement to go home, but at the same time I want time to go by really slow
so I can enjoy Gaming as much as possible, before I have to say goodbye…And I
know that won’t be easy. Nothing will be able to replace my time here in
Gaming, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything, and having it come to an end is
not easy by any means. But we have to have peace with where we are, right? So
for the next week, I’m going to soak everything inas much as possible and go
from there!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-38884572024229541102011-12-15T09:39:00.000+01:002011-12-15T09:39:00.728+01:00The Mystical Mediterranean<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><i>A blog post by Joe White, Fall 2011</i></span><br />
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
stated previously, these posts will be a two part series. This is not Part Two
but rather part two of Part One.<span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="file:///C:/DOCUME~1/KALPAG~1/LOCALS~1/Temp/XPGrpWise/Blog%20%235.2.docx#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1;" title="">[1]</a></span></span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>After a
studious week of midterms, myself and five of my yet-to-be-best friends
embarked on our ten day break. The majority of our trip was spent in the
beautiful island of Malta and the hills of Cinque Terre. Let’s talk Malta.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Yeah, it was pretty much like that. Beautiful beaches,
warm Mediterranean water, caves to climb to, VERY inexpensive (more on that in
a minute), and very visibly Catholic. That beach pictured above had a big bust
of Mary, queen of the beach, in the middle of her sands. We stayed the longest
on Gozo, the small sister island of Malta. In Gozo alone there are forty-three
churches.<a href="file:///C:/DOCUME~1/KALPAG~1/LOCALS~1/Temp/XPGrpWise/Blog%20%235.2.docx#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn2;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">[2]</span></span></span></span></a>
Crevices were carved in buildings and above residential garages to hold statues
of St. Anthony and St. Joseph. We found “Ave Maria” inscribed on various
apartment buildings. It was really quite beautiful, seeing their faith alive
outside the walls of the church. We booked an apartment in Xlendi Bay. Four
beds, two rooms, dining/living room, kitchen, bathroom and balcony: ten euro a
night. Here was the view from our balcony:<o:p></o:p></div>
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That right there is the Mediterranean, folks! My
goodness, it was too good. Snack bars were common place in the Maltese cities;
one could purchase a “cheese envelope” for seventy Euro cents or a personal
sized pizza for one euro. Cream cake: eighty Euro cent. Bravo fruit juice: one
euro. Mars Bar Cake: one Euro twenty. Those cheese envelopes and pizzas were
baaad news though, let me tell you. We got groceries for dinner most nights
which came down to two euro each. Man, Malta was just really enjoyable. Here
are some photos of Blue Lagoon:<o:p></o:p></div>
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Oof. TAKE ME BACK!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>After
ten day we had a two day weekend. A friend from back home is spending her year
in Ireland studying. Her ten day break fell the weekend after mine, so she came
out to Austria to visit. We met in Salzburg where we visited the Sound of Music
gardens (an experience I missed during the school trip to Salzburg back in the
beginning). Then it was back to the Kartause to give her a taste of Gaming
life. It was strangely affirming giving her a tour of this place—it made me
realize how much of a home this place has become. These are my friends, this is
the creek, there’s the bell tower, here’s the Byzantine chapel, this is the
ballroom. These are the things I heard when I first arrived and now it was I
giving the tour. We rented bikes in Krems and rode through the Danube River
valley with nothing but beauty around us. Autumn trees on the hills, colored
vineyards, and the big blue Danube. Great. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Finally—and
this will lead into part two quite nicely—I travelled with a group to
Medjugorje (non-sponsored) last weekend. A lot of us talked about how we were
not planning on travelling to<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Medjugorje
while there—at all. And yet we all our found ourselves on a bus going to Bosnia
that Thursday evening. Unexpected as it was, the pilgrimage yielded graces both
big and small. Some were moved to deeper prayer, some were heartbroken to
leave.<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A true
peacefulness exists in this quaint Bosnian town. The church bells of Saint
Joseph’s chime every hour but also twenty minutes before mass; this is the time
that Our Lady appears to the visionaries. While most of the visionaries live
elsewhere, Mary has appeared in Medjugorje proper in a myriad of places, from
the base of a hill where a blue cross stands, to halfway up the same hill
(appropriately titled Apparition Hill), to the very top of Cross Mountain.<a href="file:///C:/DOCUME~1/KALPAG~1/LOCALS~1/Temp/XPGrpWise/Blog%20%235.2.docx#_ftn3" name="_ftnref3" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn3;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">[3]</span></span></span></span></a>
During our time there, we were accommodated by Nancy and Patrick who have been
building a castle (literally) for pilgrims and religious who visit Medj. Their
niceness and charitableness was second to none—in the words of my pal, Shannon,
“I don’t think I’ve ever been told ‘Good Morning, treasure’ before.” The way
Our Lady’s messages have sparked them to live in such a joyful and serving way
really prompts me to continue on to better know our Lord and our mother.
Prompts me to forward movement.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="file:///C:/DOCUME~1/KALPAG~1/LOCALS~1/Temp/XPGrpWise/Blog%20%235.2.docx#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">[1]</span></span></span></span></a> Think how the Harry Potter
movies were an 8 part series with the last being one part but having two
segments. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="file:///C:/DOCUME~1/KALPAG~1/LOCALS~1/Temp/XPGrpWise/Blog%20%235.2.docx#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn2;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">[2]</span></span></span></span></a> Malta itself has upwards
of two-hundred and twenty. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="file:///C:/DOCUME~1/KALPAG~1/LOCALS~1/Temp/XPGrpWise/Blog%20%235.2.docx#_ftnref3" name="_ftn3" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn3;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">[3]</span></span></span></span></a> This place made quite
happy: the cross atop the hill was erected in the 1933 and the Bosnian
people—in their meekness—sent a letter to the Vatican asking permission to
build the cross. Of course you can build a cross, the Vatican said, but since
you asked, here is a piece of the True Cross. So through their humility, we
have a beautiful cross containing Christ’s cross.<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-48210029383954901992011-12-13T10:23:00.003+01:002011-12-13T10:23:48.017+01:00Adventures in Bruges & Aachen<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><i>A blog post by Joe White, Fall 2011</i></span><br />
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think this’ll be
a two part blog: the first, a more superficial look at my travels and the
second a deeper analysis of what these travels have taught me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A7QyiBstRG8/TucY9xs4ucI/AAAAAAAADfM/5UZ98T_fR-4/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A7QyiBstRG8/TucY9xs4ucI/AAAAAAAADfM/5UZ98T_fR-4/s320/3.jpg" width="320" /></a> <br />
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
first week I travelled without the school, was a trip of all sorts. Peter, my
friend, had a strong, burning desire to get to Bruges in Belgium, if only to
see where the movie <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">In Bruges</i> was
filmed. We had some complications with train reservations on the way out, so
instead of ironing them out we made no reservations on anything and hoped that
the 18 hour trip would go without a hitch. Long and short: it did. We stopped
in Brussels, originally a twenty minute stop that we decided to make a two hour
respite. On the city subway Monica made friends with a French speaking student
(indeed, from France) and he and his friend gave us an hour tour of the
city—all in French. Luckily Sam and Monica are both pretty fluent in the
language so they were our translators. We all had enormous waffles topped with
bananas and strawberries and cream and then headed to Bruges. The city was
beautiful in its medieval splendor. Everything you’d expect to be great met our
liking: the mussels were tasty, the beer: wonderful, the chocolate:
exceptional. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I ditched my group the next day
to meet up with my friend Laura. She was a foreign exchange student at my high
school (junior year), and we became good friends during her time in America. Of
course when I decided to go to Franciscan I told her I would visit her during
my Austrian semester. We met in Maastricht, Netherlands where she attends
university and then went to her home in Aachen, Germany. It was really great to
see an old friend, especially in her wonderful German home. Aachen was a great
city: young and vibrant with university students but also rich in history—there
was a legend to go along with nearly every statue in the city. Plus the
incredible Aachen Dom, built by Charlemagne (or Karl der Grosse, as the Germans
call him) himself. One of the most unique churches I’ve ever encountered: it
was built in the shape of an octagon. It also contains the tallest stained
glass window—that is to say, it is one solid piece of glass. Truly impressive.
Check it out:<o:p></o:p></div>
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Yes, each of those windows is one piece of glass. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a5vcC5tzwXM/TucY6ZCE_9I/AAAAAAAADe0/QJGHuHzH91A/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a5vcC5tzwXM/TucY6ZCE_9I/AAAAAAAADe0/QJGHuHzH91A/s320/4.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
departed from Aachen, alone, Sunday afternoon, knowing full well I’d be
arriving back in Gaming at 6 AM Monday, only minutes before my Christian Moral
Principles midterm. It’s good to be young!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rJ0Y-J_5Xw8/TucY8QtC59I/AAAAAAAADfE/VlasOXtHUKU/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rJ0Y-J_5Xw8/TucY8QtC59I/AAAAAAAADfE/VlasOXtHUKU/s320/2.jpg" width="240" /></a><o:p> </o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the overnight
train from Munich to Salzburg, while getting up to use the WC I heard a call
from one of the other cabins. “Joe White. JOE WHITE!” I heard. And who was on
the train, alone as well, but my good friend Daniel. I entered his cabin, and
we exchanged stories—he left his passport on the train going to Bruges, and so
on the last day he had to train to the very top of Belgium<a href="file:///C:/DOCUME~1/KALPAG~1/LOCALS~1/Temp/XPgrpwise/Blog%20%235.docx#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">[1]</span></span></span></span></a>
to get it back. But he retrieved it—just as he retrieved the famous
Westwleterny 12.<a href="file:///C:/DOCUME~1/KALPAG~1/LOCALS~1/Temp/XPgrpwise/Blog%20%235.docx#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn2;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">[2]</span></span></span></span></a>
From Salzburg we rode to St. Polten where we met up with a very cold Patrick
who had been trying to sleep there—unsuccessfully—for nearly half a day. Our
merry band grew larger. On the train from P<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">ö</span>chlarn we encountered Dave, Jacob, and John who were
just returning from Cinque Terre. We all returned to the Kartause safely and
demolished our exams that day, followed by a long, well earned nap. Stay tuned
for more!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="mso-element: footnote-list;">
<br clear="all" />
<hr align="left" size="1" width="33%" />
<div id="ftn1" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/DOCUME~1/KALPAG~1/LOCALS~1/Temp/XPgrpwise/Blog%20%235.docx#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">[1]</span></span></span></span></a> In his own words, “I could
see the English Channel from the train station.”<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn2" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/DOCUME~1/KALPAG~1/LOCALS~1/Temp/XPgrpwise/Blog%20%235.docx#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn2;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">[2]</span></span></span></span></a> Nearly unanimously ranked
as the world’s best beer<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
</div>N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-36978268206271558932011-12-09T15:16:00.001+01:002011-12-09T15:21:06.444+01:00Looking Back on Ordinary Life at the Kartause<br />
<b> <i>A blog post by Joe White, Fall 2011</i></b><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r6LZf1JauVY/TuIYjmQF2sI/AAAAAAAADeY/fm99CaAoWq0/s1600/303164_10150285739507702_530512701_7876889_4236085_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r6LZf1JauVY/TuIYjmQF2sI/AAAAAAAADeY/fm99CaAoWq0/s320/303164_10150285739507702_530512701_7876889_4236085_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Hello
again. The last blog I wrote had a pretty serious tone and lest this blog be
reduced to travelogues, I figure it would be good to talk a little on weekly
life here at the Kartause. The hot button question last week was “Are you going
anywhere this weekend or staying back?” Plenty of folks more studious than I
and my compatriots stayed in Gaming during the three day weekend to prepare for
finals. Tuesday the 4<sup>th </sup>of October was the St. Francis’s feast day,
necessitating a party on the lawn. We all enjoyed burgers and fries and
Kartausebrau (the local microbrew) while Kevin Mahon sang and played the four
songs he knows with Dave Spears offering some sax solos while Adam S played the
djembe. It felt a lot like summer, being outside with music and burgers and a
sunset. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IfI0P84me7Y/TuIZAEpmO_I/AAAAAAAADeo/P0Yc4LhfiwM/s1600/100_1058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IfI0P84me7Y/TuIZAEpmO_I/AAAAAAAADeo/P0Yc4LhfiwM/s320/100_1058.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I had
had the urge for a while to take a night hike up Book Mountain. I’m a big fan
of hiking in the dark: there is calm in the woods like none other in the
nighttime. It can be a great time for silence and contemplation. It can put
peace in your soul. Unless you’re trying your best not to slip off the side of
a narrow trail coming down a mountain. Aside from the somewhat terrifying
descent back down, the whole experience was quite beautiful. It was my second
time climbing it, first time at night. The stars shine bright enough in the
town; atop Book they were brighter and more abundant. After signing the book
and sharing a bottle of wonderful wine from Melk Monastary (the one we visited
earlier this semester) we descended. After cleaning the dirt off our shoes, we
all got pizza and a Stiegl beer to celebrate the climb.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wfy26lZr1ng/TuIY3DjaM1I/AAAAAAAADeg/qrjYjVh_cTw/s1600/100_3483.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wfy26lZr1ng/TuIY3DjaM1I/AAAAAAAADeg/qrjYjVh_cTw/s320/100_3483.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Alright,
so it’s been about three hours of writing, pursuing other distractions and
struggling to write. There really isn’t that much to say about weekday living
here, usually. We study, we talk, we go to Spar, we ride bikes to eat kebabs
and ice cream, and occasionally we climb mountains. Life is ordinary here but
we are attempting to live it in an extraordinary way. Growing closer to Christ
not only in world-shaking pilgrimages but day-by-day living, in the menial
tasks of studying and cleaning, et cetera. That is the task at hand: that
everyday and in everything we grow into Christ.<o:p></o:p></div>N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-78427969921893006752011-12-06T11:42:00.001+01:002011-12-06T11:46:18.108+01:00Swiss Army Knives Are Sharp!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">A blog post by Leanna Praetzel, Fall 2011</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<a href="http://www.heidis-hostel.ch/bilder/image005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.heidis-hostel.ch/bilder/image005.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Heidi’s Hostel” located in Interlaken,
Switzerland was a charming place… that is, if you were a rattlesnake and
leopard-print silk comforter buff, an avid supporter of “going green” (there
was one shower for the entire hostel), and a fan of apple-peeling cat-lady
hostel owners. Actually, the hostel would have been mildly pleasant for a
cat-lover in general. But alas, as I was none of these things, “Heidi’s
Hostel” was not quite my cup of tea. Nevertheless, despite the complete
strangeness of the whole thing (and perhaps even because of it), fun times were
undoubtedly had.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">
The owner was really quite nice—upon our arrival she presented the five of us
with little Swiss chocolates. For some reason I felt like the
candy-from-strangers warning didn’t apply in this particular situation.
(In any case, the chocolate was fantastic and I’m still alive.) Our
pleasant 12-hour journey left us fairly well-rested as well as extremely
famished, so we decided on making dinner ourselves in our local friendly
“Heidi’s Hostel” kitchen. We bought some spaghetti and vegetables from
the grocery store and prepared a feast! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">While
cooking, we met a lovely girl from Ohio (go figure!) and invited her to join
us. Good thing we did… Not only had she not eaten a Thanksgiving dinner
this year, but also, more surprisingly, it appeared as though she had never
said a blessing over food before. “That was beautiful, guys!” she told us
when we were finished. It was amazing to witness the faith so monumentally
though something so seemingly small as “grace”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
next day we brought some food (including Swiss cheese!) for a picnic by the
lake that was nearby. Before we ate, my friends and I fascinated
ourselves with the assortment of ducks, seagulls, and swans that had flocked to
us. The swans in particular were vicious! They were practically big
enough for me to ride around on. We fed them food so we could pet them
without them hissing at or biting us, until we realized that we were slowly
giving away our entire lunch! So we stopped the madness and started
putting sandwiches together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Everything
was going just peachy. Things went wrong only when I bestowed upon myself
the honor of slicing the cheese. As we were rugged travelers, I was
forced to wield a pocket knife. Although I thought I was taking great
care (I used to be a Girl Scout after all), it turned out that care was very
lacking. At one moment I was slicing cheese with sheer joy… at the next I
was staring in confusion at a chunk of skin that had come off of my
thumb. Then the blood came and I realized something. I had officially
cut my thumb. While cutting Swiss cheese. With a Swiss Army
Knife. In Switzerland.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">But
I had no time for the irony as I had enough iron coming out of my hand
already. I started running. To me, I had just chopped my thumb
clear off! (My mother could testify that I was never one to do well with
blood… or injuries, for that matter.) My friends chased after me and
slowed me down. As we walked along the path in search for help, I was
surprised at myself… Although I <i>was</i> nervous about the cut, I was actually
quite trusting that God would provide me with someone to help.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We
turned off the path and noticed a boy hanging up Christmas lights in his
backyard. Walking up, I held my hand out saying, “Bitte…?” My
pathetic cry for help was answered quite swiftly. The boy’s mother came
out and brought me right into her house. Within seconds she had water
running over my hand and multiple bandages at the ready. She cleaned me
up and covered my thumb so fast that when she asked me “Are you okay?” I could
hardly comprehend what was happening. I nodded my head, saying “Danke”
multiple times. She smiled, telling me everything was okay and that she
actually spoke French.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I’m
not sure if there was a lesson God wanted me to learn from filleting my thumb.
But I do know this: anyone could have slapped a couple of Band-Aids on my
thumb. Perhaps some people would have even chuckled at my
overreaction. But not these. These people showed me love. How
great is it to find God’s wonderful children all over the world?! I
thanked them and, as I was leaving, thanked God for them. Angels?
Maybe. Ordinary people? Definitely not. <o:p></o:p></span></div>N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-6866373213629898922011-12-02T10:38:00.001+01:002011-12-02T10:40:58.682+01:00Poem: Anything but Stationary<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">A poem by Leanna Praetzel, Fall 2011</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><br /></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Strike the sky<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Blue<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://freeimagesarchive.com/data/media/29/13_sky.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="226" src="http://freeimagesarchive.com/data/media/29/13_sky.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ten people plus<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">You<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Skip the ground<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ride the rail<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Through the hills<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Set the sail<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sperrys with a<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Smile<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Bench and chat<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Awhile<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Paint some purple<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In the sky<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Put some sparkle<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In my eye<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A world behind<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Glass<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Another train to<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Pass<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Whirlwind in this<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Heart of mine<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The sky is dark<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So come and shine<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><br /></span>N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-84692060466793973972011-11-26T20:03:00.001+01:002011-11-26T20:11:03.841+01:00Mary's Fiat<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;">A blog post by Chelsea Graham, Fall 2011</span></i><br />
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I’m sure many of you were expecting posts about the Rome and
Assisi pilgrimage, and that is what I thought I would be writing about too, but
I changed my mind! <o:p></o:p></div>
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Before we had to be in Rome, we had a few days to travel on
our own, and it has been tradition for my household to go to Loreto, where the
Holy House of Mary is now. I was excited to spend time with my household, but
at the same time I really just wanted to get to Rome and not have to deal with
all the trains to get to Loreto and then to Rome. But I put on a smiling face
and got on the train to get to Loreto. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Well,
naturally, everything did not go as smoothly as we had hoped for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Getting there was way more complicated than
it needed to be. Train schedules got all messed up, we had complications with
our Eurail passes, and we really thought we would never get there. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually, we did, but only for about a half hour.
After twenty hours of riding on trains, sitting in train stations, etc., we
finally arrived in Loreto…and our train to Rome left in an hour and half. The Holy
House is quite a hike from the train station, so like I said before, we really
only had a half hour at the Holy House.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Well, even though it was just a half hour, the trip was so
worth it. Walking into the house where Mary said “yes,” where she gave her life
to God without questioning, and where she conceived Christ! I prayed in the
same room where Our Lady prayed!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.josemariaescriva.info/image/loreto_casa1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.josemariaescriva.info/image/loreto_casa1.jpg" width="221" /></a>After spending our half an hour there and almost missing our
train (we literally had to run to catch it)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was sitting on the train really thinking about Mary’s fiat. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And as Christmas is drawing nearer (just over a month away,
not that I’m counting down the days or anything…) it seems like the perfect
topic. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So many people pass through the Christmas
season without really even thinking of Mary’s yes. Most of us, hopefully,
recognize the true “reason for the season” but how many of us think about what
leads up to the birth of Christ? We celebrate the Annunciation, but why not the
excitement of the pregnancy all throughout it? When you hear a friend is
pregnant, do you congratulate her and then never ask questions, see how she is
doing, etc., until the child is born? By now Mary (thousands of yeas ago) would
be about 35 weeks pregnant! She could probably feel Christ kicking her! She is
going to be so obviously pregnant to everyone that sees her, and she’s probably
going through a lot of persecution.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mary’s fiat wasn’t just in accepting Christ
into her womb on March 25th, it was for the length of her pregnancy, and her
whole life after that! <o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m not saying we should take away from the attention
leading up to the birth of Christ and put it on Mary, but just take a minute
and ponder it deeply. Think about the fullness of Mary’s yes. Would you be
willing to say yes as she did? Is Christ calling you to do more? As the Advent
season starts in just a few days, I hope and pray that you let Christ into your
life, just as Mary did.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Luke 1:38, “Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me
according to thy word.”<o:p></o:p></div>N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-72490694415203206902011-11-23T09:49:00.001+01:002011-11-23T10:25:44.344+01:00Pope KissLast week in Rome during the Papal Audience--which was luckily outside--our son Narek Michael was kissed by the Pope on his exit from St. Peter's square. It was as if the Pope kissed each one of the students through him. So far we are three for three, having all three of our boys kissed by Pope Benedict in Rome! Lucky parents we are indeed!<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GGHyp-4GHXs/Tsy1s4LT7tI/AAAAAAAADcc/GfxbhVASaAI/s1600/CIMG1244_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HeXHANdqU4A/Tsy15crxbqI/AAAAAAAADck/dOWUFuMZTxM/s1600/DSCN0915.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HeXHANdqU4A/Tsy15crxbqI/AAAAAAAADck/dOWUFuMZTxM/s320/DSCN0915.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-76332578972392666212011-11-22T11:41:00.001+01:002011-11-22T11:43:24.116+01:00A Language of Love: Lourdes (Part 2) A blog post by Leanna Praetzel, Fall 2011<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oDcGfv-ZfJ8/Tst8jEEMSUI/AAAAAAAADaw/koDt5Ao2m2w/s1600/candle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oDcGfv-ZfJ8/Tst8jEEMSUI/AAAAAAAADaw/koDt5Ao2m2w/s320/candle.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She spoke Spanish. They spoke
French. She spoke Italian, and I spoke English. In training we were
told that, in the service of the baths, the language barrier between workers
was not really a barrier at all. “The Holy Spirit takes care of it,” our
advisors told us. <i>Cool!</i> I thought; <i>we’re going to be able to
interpret tongues!</i> Not quite… <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Day 5: I had learned a
few words in German and had taken a few years of Spanish, but not even my
entire lifetime of English-speaking prepared me for the communication needed
for the job at hand. What I realized was that the language we were called
to speak in was not one of words, but one of actions. I began to pick up
the classic pointing-and-nodding method, along with the “universal language of
Lourdes”—a smile. Soon I realized how astronomically effective these
techniques were! The quote by St. Francis I had so often heard of yet
overlooked was actually coming to life: “Preach the Gospel at all times; when
necessary, use words.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Day 6: Wednesday morning
was full of adventure. If getting the lights turned off on me in the
shower wasn’t adventuresome enough (still wondering why Europeans put the light
switch on the outside of the door…), than getting stuck in an elevator packed
aside one English-speaker and a dozen or so rowdy Frenchman definitely
was! Later on in the day I got to pray before holy relics, befriend
people from other countries, and meet St. Bernadette’s great-great nephew.
(What a striking resemblance!)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Day 7: I went inside
“the grotto” on Thursday—the same one Mary appeared to Bernadette in. It
was amazing to touch the inside of the mountain, the rock being extremely
smooth from the feeling of countless hands. I brought a candle in with me
and attempted to light it off the grotto’s beautiful candle arrangement in
honor of my siblings’ birthdays (shout out to Robby and Christina—HAPPY
BIRTHDAY!!!), but once again I got scolded at in French. (I was,
however, after exiting the grotto, able to light the candle and place it among
others.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ejT5NdUGo00/Tst8j0bw7FI/AAAAAAAADa4/pvf_ZDRKE3E/s1600/grotto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ejT5NdUGo00/Tst8j0bw7FI/AAAAAAAADa4/pvf_ZDRKE3E/s320/grotto.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Day 8: Our last day at
Lourdes? Already? I said my three <i>Hail Mary</i> prayers at the
statue of the “Crowned Virgin”, a tradition that will supposedly bring me back
to Lourdes, and recited a few more in the hopes that family and friends might
join me in my return. (Who’s up for it?!) That evening, when the
group I was going to travel with discovered that we missed our train (by an
hour!), I got very excited—<i>Maybe we can stay in Lourdes forever!</i> I
thought. I had solidified friendships, had been inspired by faith, and
had learned the language of love. How could I ever leave? Alas, the
perfect train showed up and I was forced to recall the words of an Italian
woman I had met: “Take Lourdes with you in your heart.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FhqJmCpi19Q/Tst8ktuPpQI/AAAAAAAADa8/NQE7qVB16sE/s1600/torchlight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FhqJmCpi19Q/Tst8ktuPpQI/AAAAAAAADa8/NQE7qVB16sE/s320/torchlight.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Day 9: We arrived back
in Paris, but since we weren’t due to depart for Gaming until the evening, I
went with a couple other people to visit the incorrupt body of St.
Bernadette. Some snacks and a three-hour train ride later, I found myself
gazing upon a spectacular miracle: the body of St. Bernadette, completely
intact. Although our stay was cut short by a closing for lunchtime, the
trip was completely worthwhile. Not only did I get to see Bernadette, but
I also like to say that I received a gift from her. Right next to my
things I was gathering on my way out, I noticed a medal of St. Padre Pio.
Only hours earlier had I resolved to concentrate my life on Padre Pio’s saying:
“Pray, and don’t worry.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Day 10: That was something
I realized when looking back on the week—not once did I worry. Not
once. This is monumental for me, especially when there are so many things
to do and such a small amount of time to do them in. It felt wonderful to
be anxiety-free, a quality I prayed would continue to stay with me after my
leave. I also knew that I would want to keep close to me the new language
of love that I had learned… something so simple, yet so powerful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">On the way back I pondered these things,
laughed with new friends, and got creamed in a game or two of Rummy—slowly
changing into a new person all the while.</span><br />N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-16701479787832123802011-11-08T14:29:00.002+01:002011-11-08T14:29:52.014+01:00Adventures in the Holy LandOver the fall 10 day break, there was an unofficial trip to the Holy Land with 25 students participating. Moving along at lightning speed, we visited many of the main shrines as we journeyed on pilgrimage by bus. Our tour guide, Iyad, a palestinian Catholic, also ameliorated our experience by providing a rich historical and cultural backdrop to the tense political situation. <br />
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We could write for weeks, reflecting on our experience, but for now, a picture of our group is below. <br />
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<br />N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-63904495051353632012011-11-04T10:44:00.000+01:002011-11-04T10:44:13.746+01:00Kartause Peace<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">A blog post by Chelsea Graham, Fall 2011</span></b><br />
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This past week has been a pretty busy week! With students’ parents
arriving, planning trips, talks, talent shows, and classes on top of all that,
it seems like I didn’t get a second to sit back and think!<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Earlier this week Matthew Kelley came to Gaming and gave a
talk about our upcoming pilgrimage to Rome and Assisi. During his talk he spoke
a bit about his time here in Gaming and what he said really struck me. During
his time here he didn’t travel every weekend, and he didn’t try and see as many
places as he could throughout the semester; he was content with staying at the
Kartause. After traveling for 10- day and other weekend excursions, I can
understand why. Always being on the move or planning your next trip is exhausting.
It’s hard to settle down at the Kartause, because you know you’re just going to
leave in a few days for another trip. And in doing all that traveling, I barely
get to appreciate the place that I am so blessed to be able to call my home for
the semester. <o:p></o:p></div>
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During one of my first philosophy classes of the semester,
my professor told us that the Kartause is the perfect place for solitude, recollection
and to find who we really are. At the time I didn’t really understand what she
meant, but now I couldn’t agree more. Even with all the students around, and
the Kartause kids laughing and playing outside, the Kartause seems like one of
the most peaceful places. I don’t know if its because after traveling and
staying in hostels, it’s nice to be somewhere familiar, or its because we are
surrounded with God’s beauty everywhere we look, or just because of the spiritual
“vibes” the Kartause emanates. Whatever it is, it’s amazing, but I haven’t
taken full advantage of it. Even after knowing this, I am planning trips and running
off to other parts of Europe, and as Matthew Kelley said, I have a feeling I’m
going to regret it in the future— later the place I’ll miss most will be
Gaming, not another part of Europe. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We do this throughout our whole lives, instead of enjoying
where we are at in our jobs, relationships (with God, friends, and significant others).
We need to know what’s next, what is going to happen, or we move too fast to
see any of it happen. I’m challenging all you readers out there to stop, take a
deep breath and look at the beauty and blessings around you. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ll leave you with a quote from Matthew Kelley’s book,
<i>Rhythm of Life:</i> “Slow down. Breathe deeply. Reflect deeply. Pray deeply. Live
deeply. Otherwise you will spend your life feeling like a bulldozer chasing
butterflies or a sparrow in a hurricane.” <o:p></o:p></div>N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-73429087718030927462011-11-03T09:52:00.000+01:002011-11-03T09:52:18.946+01:00Taking the Plunge: Lourdes (Part 1)A blog post by <b>Leanna Praetzel, </b>Fall 2011<br />
<br />
I wasn’t going to
Lourdes.<span> </span>And then I changed my mind.<br />
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The clock was winding
down, and only a few hours remained before the application packet was
due.<span> </span>I still needed money, information, and paperwork, plus I had
to hunt down the person in charge.<span> </span>In the blink of an eye, it was
taken care of, and I was stepping off the overnight train and into the country
of France.<span> </span>Just like that.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EOQtDIb8t8I/TrJV9FsGUHI/AAAAAAAADGc/h3gvap2mhZk/s1600/IMG_0659.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EOQtDIb8t8I/TrJV9FsGUHI/AAAAAAAADGc/h3gvap2mhZk/s320/IMG_0659.jpg" width="320" /></a>Day 1:<span>
</span>Upon arriving in Paris, a friend and I thought it would be fun to walk
around the streets sticking our noses up in the air to “blend in” with the
arrogant French stereotype… Turns out we were the only ones.<span> </span>But
at least we kept ourselves occupied while some people in my group tried to
figure things out; supposedly the trains were booked, and it was impossible for
us to get to Lourdes.<span> </span>But I knew that if God wanted us to get to
Lourdes, we’d find a way.</div>
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And we did!<span>
</span>We ended up having to get a few different types of tickets (splitting our
group up a bit), but at least we were all going to end up in the same
place!<span> </span>My ticket was for a train leaving that evening… which
meant, for the remainder of the day, Paris was calling!<span> </span>I stayed
with a buddy and together we climbed the Eiffel Tower!<span> </span>We tackled
those stairs, even with all of our luggage for the 10-day break. <span> </span>I
decided it would be very fitting to sing that song from <i>Mulan</i> (“Let’s get
down to business…!”) to keep me motivated as well as keep things
interesting.<span> </span>It worked!<span> </span>With a lively step and a
lack of breath, we reached the “second floor” (about halfway up… but still very
high)!<span> </span>The view was beautiful, although, alas, we have no picture
proof (both my camera <i>and</i> my iPod died, boo-hoo)!</div>
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Day 2:<span>
</span>Another overnight train later and I was in Lourdes!<span> </span>Many
adventures took place including a delicious visit to the local pastry shop, and
a lady kicking me out of McDonald’s for no apparent reason (I never knew what I
did wrong because I don’t know a lick of French)!<span> </span>Our leaders
hadn’t arrived in town yet, so I didn’t discover the heart of Lourdes until…</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7pI-JWjrr6A/TrJV91SlAWI/AAAAAAAADGk/iVpX1j8h-Ls/s1600/IMG_0631.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7pI-JWjrr6A/TrJV91SlAWI/AAAAAAAADGk/iVpX1j8h-Ls/s320/IMG_0631.jpg" width="240" /></a>Day 3:<span>
</span>International Mass in a giant underground Basilica?<span>
</span>What?<span> </span>I thought there would be a couple helpers and some
pilgrims at Lourdes! <span> </span>What a surprise it was when a gargantuan
Church hidden beneath our shoes was packed with people from all over the world,
armed and ready for Mass!<span> </span>I got to go on the altar with other
Frannies to lead the crowd in the “Our Father”. <span> </span>It was
amazing!</div>
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Later on in the day, we
got assigned our stations for the week.<span> </span>I was told that I would be
serving in the baths—the miraculous waters (from the same spring Bernadette dug
years ago) that people come from all over the world to wash in!<span> </span>I
went from being a study-abroad student to being a privileged servant in Catholic
Disneyland.<span> </span>God picked me up from Gaming, set me down Lourdes, and
plunged me right in.</div>
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Day 4:<span>
</span>Monday morning we went on a tour of different places St. Bernadette
lived.<span> </span>It was quite fantastic; I felt like I was walking in her
shoes!<span> </span>Then, I, along with nine other Franciscan girls, proceeded
to the “Piscines” (the Baths) wearing our nurse-like outfits.<span>
</span>After praying the rosary with the other women serving that day, we
first-timers were split up into different baths where we would remain for the
entire shift.<span> </span>Then, at 2:00pm, the curtain was opened and women of
all different nationalities poured in.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0Lpq8V0-AwU/TrJV-7vOh5I/AAAAAAAADGs/1LMOpFAd2Js/s1600/IMG_0646.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0Lpq8V0-AwU/TrJV-7vOh5I/AAAAAAAADGs/1LMOpFAd2Js/s320/IMG_0646.jpg" width="320" /></a>The very first woman I
helped left me in tears (although she probably didn’t know it).<span>
</span>The love in her face, the determination in her eyes…<span> </span>All I
could think about was the magnitude of her faith.<span> </span>This woman had
traveled the distance and gone through only Lord knows what to reach that moment
in time.<span> </span>And now she was there, humbly praying before Jesus and
his Mother, while stepping into the icy water.<span> </span>She was seemingly
unaware of its bitter coldness, and even of the fact that I was still in the
room.<span> </span>For the rest of my shift, and for each and every woman
present, I was struck by the faith that shone before me, a faith that was
visible in the form of actual human beings.<span> </span>My first day serving
in the baths and I was already full to the brim!<span> </span></div>
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That evening, my voice
echoed throughout all of Lourdes as I was honored to introduce the First
Luminous Mystery at the “Torchlight Procession.”<span> </span>What a wonderful
gift, and to see from a stage hundreds of candle flames poking through the
night’s falling darkness!<span> </span>I felt like the entire world was in
front of me, and I knew that there was no place on Earth I would have rather
been.</div>
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<i>To be
continued…<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-41796274417746697512011-10-28T10:57:00.000+02:002011-10-28T10:57:07.951+02:00Dr. Eduard Hapsburg Speaks on Church Crisis in AustriaOn the afternoon of October 27th, Dr. Eduard Hapsburg spoke with Franciscan University students about the crisis of faith in the church of Austria. <br />
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With his perfect English, engaging personality, and personal experience working for the Austrian Catholic church, he electrified the room of students with some astonishing facts:<br />
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- that many confirmation candidates in Austria are unable to recite the <i>Our Father</i><br />
- in this historic bastion of Catholicism, adoration and confession are in many places taboo<br />
- that priests are lonely, hopeless, overburdened, overworked, and under-appreciated<br />
- that the contemporary situation in Austria is similar to the 7th century when the first Benedictines came to Christianize the land. Austria is back to ground zero and is in need of missionaries again.<br />
- that an overwhelming majority of Catholics are unable to explain the basic tenets of their faith, even those which work for the church.<br />
- that there is an extraordinary church bureaucracy of over 60,000 employees, many which are without faith and working only to enjoy the salary and social benefits of a comfortable job.<br />
<br />
He spoke of the need to pray, do penance, and encouraged lay missionaries to give their witness and talent to the German speaking lands. He also spoke of Church wealth, the Church-Tax, and monolithic church bureaucracy which has become too comfortable and complacent.<br />
<br />
But, even so, the current church structure is crumbling, he asserted. Furthermore, he spoke of a new church organization which was beginning and would evolve over the coming years. <br />
<br />
In the end, while the situation is dire, there is still hope, he professed. Going back to the Reformation, he reminded the students that practically the whole land converted to Protestantism, before returning back to its Catholic roots. It has been worse. In the past, it was easy to "go with the flow" of religion. But, in today's climate, it is different. Going with the flow means getting swept away in secular culture, not in the current of the church. As such, tepid and lukewarm Christians will slowly trickle out of the church. Nevertheless, pruned, it will grow again, it will grow anew.<br />
<br />
As a final call to action, Hapsburg challenged all students, "If you don't speak of Christ, who will? Each one of you must be missionaries and speak about your Christian faith." <br />
<br />N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-90853738090126973542011-10-28T10:11:00.002+02:002011-10-28T10:11:41.156+02:00A Fall Sunrise in Gaming<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-83256797968776603792011-10-27T10:51:00.001+02:002011-10-28T10:09:57.518+02:00God's Angels<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Welcome back to our readers. Students and many of the faculty and staff have been away on the 10-day break which is why there have been few posts the past few days. But, the students literally scattered to the winds, going to Turkey, Morocco, the Holy Land and all over the European continent. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Student </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Chelsea Graham</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">, discusses some of her travels in the post below:</span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Hello again! I just got back from my 10 day break, and I fell
in love with Europe all over again. I love America, but there is something about
Europe that just draws me in everywhere I go. I went to Paris, Lourdes, Venice
and Capri for my 10 day. I traveled with three others, and we had a great time.
In the words of one of the girls I traveled with, Lourdes is “Disneyland for
Catholics.” It was just such a blessing to go there and go in the baths, be a
part of the candlelight procession, and just explore an amazing town. And while
Lourdes is such a spiritually uplifting and inspiring place, Capri too was
remarkable in beauty and in grandeur. Indeed, God’s creation is incredible.
Capri is the most beautiful place I’ve ever been to. I could go into detail of
what I did in each of those places, but instead I want to tell you about a
different part of my trip.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z0MuDxVb9Hw/TqkbYWN39jI/AAAAAAAAC9E/-VX8jx7ymCo/s1600/France+197.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z0MuDxVb9Hw/TqkbYWN39jI/AAAAAAAAC9E/-VX8jx7ymCo/s320/France+197.JPG" width="212" /></span></a><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Coming over to Europe, I was told that everyone hates
Americans, the French people are rude, and good luck traveling because nobody
likes tourists. Well, I’d have to disagree with all of that! Over my trip, I
encountered several of “God’s Angels” (what my group and I decided to call them
after we realized how big of a role they played in our trip). “God’s Angels”
are the people who came out of nowhere in our times of need and helped us
tremendously. Not only did we encounter several of “God’s Angels” but I also
cannot remember one person that was rude to us. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I’d like to share some of “God’s Angels” experiences with
you, but first I have to tell you that my group, overall, did not have a lot of
travel experience. For myself and one other this is our first time in Europe,
and for the other two it had been awhile since they were here, so when it came
to train systems, getting from one place to another, etc. we weren’t too good
at it. It was a good dose of humble pie.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Our first night was in Paris, but our hostel wasn’t exactly
in Paris (that’s what happens when you look for the cheapest places instead of researching
the location as well! By the time we got
to the town where our hostel was, it was close to midnight, almost nobody was
around, and we had no idea how to get from where we were to our hostel. We
started walking around, hoping to just stumble upon our hostel, but then we saw
a girl about our age and with my very little French skills, I asked her if she
knew where our hostel was. She didn’t know, but without even wasting a second,
she pulled out her cell phone, called a friend and got directions for us, and
we got to our hostel within the next 5 minutes. She could have just told us she
didn’t know where the hostel was and went on her own way, but instead, went out
of her way to call and get us directions, without which we would have been lost
for hours!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j94GkqOMnVk/TqkbbfLw3II/AAAAAAAAC9M/t-W9f1vydW4/s1600/France+246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j94GkqOMnVk/TqkbbfLw3II/AAAAAAAAC9M/t-W9f1vydW4/s320/France+246.JPG" width="212" /></span></a><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Again, while looking for our hostel (this time in Lourdes) we
met a man who seemed to be in his late twenties who appeared to be traveling
with his mom, get off a bus, asked us where we needed to go (his first language
is French, but he also spoke decent English). Then he spoke to the bus driver
and arranged to have us dropped off closer to our hostel. Once we got to the
bus stop, he and his mom got off with us to make sure we made it all the way to
our hostel safely. We didn’t even ask for help! He just got off his bus and
offered…and he was French! That’s two French people that not only didn’t hate
us, but were incredibly helpful! And I’m only telling you of a few! We
encountered about five others just as helpful as those two, just in France
alone!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">And Capri! I wasn’t kidding when I said everyone was nice! We
stayed in a small hotel in and getting there wasn’t easy (I know, I know we
should have found hostels that weren’t hidden!) Whenever we stopped and asked
for help, everyone was incredibly friendly and happy to give us directions.
When we got to the hostel, the receptionist was really kind and extremely
helpful. She told us all kinds of things to do on the island, when we told her
we were going to watch the sunset, she told us a better place to go so we could
see it better. Furthermore, she made
phone calls for us to see if/when things were open, etc. And I know that was
her job to do all of that, but she went above and beyond what she needed to do
for us.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">As Christians, we are called to look for Christ in everyone
we encounter. On my recent 10-day break,
that was not hard to do! The four of us would have been so lost without the
help all of “God’s Angels”, and it just reminded us to trust God in every
situation and each hour of the day.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-45801783899809138702011-10-13T16:33:00.000+02:002011-10-13T16:33:34.348+02:00Germany Travel PoemA blog post by Leanna Praetzel, Fall 2011<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Grüß Gott, my dear friends!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I’ve made you a rhyme<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">On traveling Europe<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Alone our first time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The first stop was Munich—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">What madness, I say!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Oktoberfest? Crazy!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We had a short stay.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Though dirndls and music<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And dancing is great,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A castle was calling…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And I couldn’t wait!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">To my great surprise<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We hopped the right train.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">(Déjà vu—all my worrying<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Turned out in vain.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We arrived at “Neuschwanstein”—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A magical view!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3SttFs7wNtA/Tpb2aE3ojRI/AAAAAAAAC84/14bB70KHWd0/s1600/France+280.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3SttFs7wNtA/Tpb2aE3ojRI/AAAAAAAAC84/14bB70KHWd0/s320/France+280.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">With towers and horses and<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Hang gliders, too!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We made the hike up, and<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Made friends on the way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The tour was awesome!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">What a wonderful day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A great “Mozart Mass”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The next morning, and then,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We all shuffled off<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">To old Österreich again<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We boarded the train,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Our weekend was done.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Of course we agreed that<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We had lots of fun!<o:p></o:p></span></div>N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-20256433791221371612011-10-12T11:09:00.002+02:002011-10-12T11:58:09.893+02:00The Monastic Contribution to Modern Society<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-54P14rldd0s/TpVV543mykI/AAAAAAAAC2c/DRP30l0rmDU/s1600/Kartause+%2526+Gaming+213.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-54P14rldd0s/TpVV543mykI/AAAAAAAAC2c/DRP30l0rmDU/s320/Kartause+%2526+Gaming+213.JPG" width="212" /></span></a><br />
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<span style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">T<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">he Franciscan University study abroad
program in Gaming, Austria is situated in a former Carthusian monastery dating
back to the early 14th century. As such, the spirit and ethos of the
Carthusian monks still permeate the walls and environs of this historic and
holy place.</span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In this vein, Pope Benedict XVI,
recently visited a Carthusian monastery in the Italian region of Calabria where
he spoke on the contemporary value of monasticism, silence, and solitude. </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">His apt words per Vatican news are as
follows: </span></div>
</div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"Monasteries have an important, I
would say indispensable, role", he said. "Their purpose today is to
'improve' the environment, in the sense that sometimes the air we breathe in our
societies is unhealthy, it is polluted by a non-Christian mentality, at times
even a non-human mentality, because it is dominated by economic interests,
concerned only with worldly things and lacking a spiritual dimension.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<div style="color: black; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZV6cRkvwdnE/TpVV3PftouI/AAAAAAAAC2M/IAOZmRpKNQ0/s1600/Kartause+%2526+Gaming+087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZV6cRkvwdnE/TpVV3PftouI/AAAAAAAAC2M/IAOZmRpKNQ0/s320/Kartause+%2526+Gaming+087.JPG" width="320" /></span></a><span style="color: black;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></o:p></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> "In such a climate not only God but also our fellow man is pushed
to the margins, and we do not commit ourselves to the common good. Monasteries,
however, are models of societies which have God and fraternal relations at their
core. We have great need of them in our time".</span></div>
<div style="color: black; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;">
</div>
<div style="color: black; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> Benedict XVI completed his remarks by exhorting the faithful of
Serra San Bruno "to treasure the great spiritual tradition of this place, and
seek to put it into practice in your daily
lives".<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: black;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: black;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">SILENCE AND SOLITUDE REVEAL THE PRESENCE OF
GOD</span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="color: black;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-GB"></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="color: black; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;">
</div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">VATICAN CITY, 9 OCT 2011 (VIS) - Having addressed the local people of
Serra San Bruno, the Holy Father entered the Carthusian monastery of Sts.
Stephen and Bruno where he was greeted by the prior, Fr. Jacques Dupont. At 6
p.m. the Pope presided at Vespers with the monastic community in the monastery
church.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div>
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</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MKcjSVetQus/TpVV4zP8zmI/AAAAAAAAC2U/r-IUqOe-HTk/s1600/Kartause+%2526+Gaming+110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MKcjSVetQus/TpVV4zP8zmI/AAAAAAAAC2U/r-IUqOe-HTk/s320/Kartause+%2526+Gaming+110.JPG" width="320" /></span></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> In his homily the Pope explained that the aim of his visit was to
confirm the Carthusian Order in its mission, "more vital and important today
than ever before", he said. The spiritual core of the Carthusians, founded by
St. Bruno, lies in the desire "to enter into union of life with God, abandoning
everything which impedes such communion, allowing oneself to be seized by the
immense love of God and living from that love alone", through solitude and
silence.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;">Technological progress, the Holy Father noted, has made man's life
more comfortable but also "more agitated, even convulsive". The growth of the
communications media means that today we run the risk of virtual reality
dominating reality itself. "People are increasingly, even unwittingly, immersed
in a virtual dimension, thanks to the audiovisual images that accompany their
lives from morning to evening. The youngest, having been born in this state,
seem to fill each vacant moment with music and images, almost as if afraid to
contemplate the void. ... Some people are no longer capable of remaining silent
and alone".</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KGIEQMTo9Go/TpVV0MAjE-I/AAAAAAAAC18/aqTUaiU9WLE/s1600/Kartause+%2526+Gaming+009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KGIEQMTo9Go/TpVV0MAjE-I/AAAAAAAAC18/aqTUaiU9WLE/s320/Kartause+%2526+Gaming+009.JPG" width="212" /></span></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> This situation of modern society and culture "throws light on the
specific charism of the Carthusian monastery as a precious gift for the Church
and for the world, a gift which contains a profound message for our lives and
for all humanity. I would summarise it in these terms: by withdrawing in silence
and solitude man, so to speak, 'exposes' himself to the truth of his nakedness,
he exposes himself to that apparent 'void' I mentioned earlier. But in doing so
he experiences fullness, the presence of God, of the most real Reality that
exists. ... Monks, by leaving everything, ... expose themselves to solitude and
silence so as to live only from what is essential; and precisely in living from
the essential they discover a profound communion with their brothers and
sisters, with all mankind".<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div>
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</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WbPY8dJJ5zk/TpVV1ofl74I/AAAAAAAAC2E/F1Z0iDM7N2I/s1600/Kartause+%2526+Gaming+056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WbPY8dJJ5zk/TpVV1ofl74I/AAAAAAAAC2E/F1Z0iDM7N2I/s320/Kartause+%2526+Gaming+056.JPG" width="320" /></span></span></a><span style="color: black;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> This vocation, the Pope went on, "finds its response in a journey,
a lifelong search. ... Becoming a monk requires time, exercise, patience. ...
The beauty of each vocation in the Church lies in giving time to God to work
with His Spirit, and in giving time to one's own humanity to form, to grow in a
particular state of life according to the measure of maturity in Christ. In
Christ there is everything, fullness. </span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;">However we need time to possess one of the
dimensions of His mystery. ... At times, in the eyes of the world, it seems
impossible that someone should spend his entire life in a monastery, but in
reality a lifetime is hardly sufficient to enter into this union with God, into
the essential and profound Reality which is Jesus
Christ".</span></div>
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</div>
<div style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> "The Church needs you and you need the Church", the Holy Father
told the monks at the end of his homily. "You, who live in voluntary isolation,
are in fact at the heart of the Church; you ensure that the pure blood of
contemplation and of God's love flows in her
veins".</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
</span></span></div>N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-60252150786503621002011-10-11T11:43:00.002+02:002011-10-11T11:43:40.757+02:00Everyday Blessings<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zE9XLyxNUaU/TpQOq20XkuI/AAAAAAAAC1g/-JHevy63HiM/s1600/mariazell+023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zE9XLyxNUaU/TpQOq20XkuI/AAAAAAAAC1g/-JHevy63HiM/s320/mariazell+023.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<b>A blog post by Chelsea Graham, Fall 2011</b></div>
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<br /></div>
Oh the simple joys of life! I am sitting outside the
Kartause right now with the sun shining down on me, surrounded by beauty. Other
students are running around doing last minute things before their weekend
trips, while about everyone else is just relaxing for the afternoon…. <o:p></o:p><br />
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--xaBLinSukk/TpQO0QQ8h0I/AAAAAAAAC1o/vD1hp862JRw/s1600/mariazell+005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--xaBLinSukk/TpQO0QQ8h0I/AAAAAAAAC1o/vD1hp862JRw/s320/mariazell+005.jpg" width="213" /></a>This past week has been incredible. I didn’t travel last weekend
so I would be able to travel this weekend without getting too behind on
studying for midterms. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t have any
crazy stories to tell you about train rides or foreign countries, but soon I
will! This weekend I’m going the Netherlands, and I’m meeting my older sister
there (she is studying abroad in France) and we’re going to stay with our
family there. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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This past week the Lord decided to bless me in so many ways.
A friend and I decided to be each other’s accountability partners, and I think that
is exactly what I need. We’re going to hold each other accountable for journaling
daily, doing a holy hour together each week, and we’re going to goon a “date”
once a week. I am so excited to see where this relationship leads me, with
Christ and also with my friend. I think, for me, this the best way to get the
most out of my Austria experience.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0DEHtBYCuNE/TpQO_tcBAkI/AAAAAAAAC1w/pB88geZDWZQ/s1600/mariazell+007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0DEHtBYCuNE/TpQO_tcBAkI/AAAAAAAAC1w/pB88geZDWZQ/s320/mariazell+007.jpg" width="213" /></a>On top of that, I went to confession this week. I’ll be
completely honest with you: Reconciliation is not my favorite sacrament, but
one that is necessary. After visiting the Divine Mercy Shrine in Poland, going
to confession is so much easier for me. Not only is Christ willing to forgive
us for our sins, but he wants to! He wants to flood us with his mercy! For the
past few years, David Crowder Band’s, “How He Loves Us” has been one of my
favorite songs, but the lyrics, “If His grace is an ocean, we’re all sinking,”
now have an even deeper meaning, because it is so true.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Also, October is Our Lady of the Rosary month and the month for
the Unborn, so we have made a commitment to praying the rosary everyday and
together as often as possible. I am really excited about this, because I truly
believe that through prayer and the intercession of Our Lady, so many things
can happen. <o:p></o:p></div>
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On top of all that, I got a package from home and a card
from my household sisters back on campus, and the weather has been beautiful! I
don’t think a week can get much better, and I’m ending by seeing family!! <o:p></o:p></div>
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So thank God for his many blessings this week, for those
extraordinary and those that come to us in the ordinary events of daily life. Don't take life for granted for with a closer look, we all have things to be thankful for and blessings that come our way. <o:p></o:p></div>
N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-87578083911597194972011-10-07T11:02:00.001+02:002011-10-07T11:03:00.426+02:00Reflection: A Franciscan Retreat in Ireland with Direction for our Times Apostolate<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Vd0BTzeuMbw/To6_ogM9_LI/AAAAAAAAC1Q/jfOTRgYtoNc/s1600/IMG_0217.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Vd0BTzeuMbw/To6_ogM9_LI/AAAAAAAAC1Q/jfOTRgYtoNc/s320/IMG_0217.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<b> <i>A blog post by Sarah Spies, Fall 2011</i></b><br />
<br />
<br />
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Back by popular demand, I want to share a little bit more
about my personal experience of the new connection between the <a href="http://www.franciscan.edu/Austria/">Franciscan University Austria Program</a>
and <a href="http://www.directionforourtimes.org/">Direction for Our Times</a>
Lay Apostolate. Before coming to Gaming this fall, I was able to go on the
retreat with Anne, a lay apostle and the Direction for Our Times missionaries.
What a blessing it was! Before going on the retreat I really had minimal
knowledge about the apostolate and had only read Anne’s Volume Nine, but this
retreat opened my eyes to the heart of their mission and it certainly was a
pilgrimage filled with new lights and consolations from the Holy Spirit. We
(the thirteen Franciscan students signed up for the retreat) were greeted and
picked up from the airport in Dublin and driven by friends of Anne to Cavan
county for the retreat, which was a blessing in itself since it was our first
time travelling and even more importantly it was free! It’s important to
mention this because the Lay Apostles gave us a place to stay, food to eat, and
transportation for the duration of the retreat. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The first day, was filled with spiritual activities, but it
didn’t even feel too busy because the leaders of the retreat were so in tune
with each of our needs (especially our jet lag) and they were very flexible.
From the beginning I saw how much the lay apostles simply desired to serve us
and meet our needs on this retreat. We began with mass and afterwards proceeded
to listen to an address from Anne. My first reaction was honestly surprise with
just how normal she was. I didn’t initially know what to expect from this woman
who receives daily locutions, but I was affirmed by her peace, honesty, and
genuine desire to be the Lord’s servant. Her message to us was about the role
of the laity in the Church, especially us as young adults. </div>
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After her message we
were able to ask her any questions about the apostolate, her messages, and her
locutions. It was intriguing to hear how simple it was for her to accept her
experiences merely as just another part of her daily prayer life. Later she
prayed over each of the retreatants individually. My overall experience was
that she and the other missionaries genuinely saw us as their brothers and
sisters and simply wanted to empower us in our baptismal call as laity in the
temporal order. It was such a peaceful experience. That night we made a Holy
Hour in the quiet, small chapel in the back of one of the missionary’s homes.
This was the chapel where Anne wrote Volume Two: Conversations with the
Eucharistic Heart of Jesus. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The next day was so powerful; we began with a pilgrimage
hike of Croagh Patrick. Some of the guys with us decided to hike it barefoot
like the 80-year-old women. As for me, I suffered even with my shoes on! It was
a grueling and steep hike to the top, and I had to stop a few times, but it was
one of the most beautiful spiritual experiences in that I was able to learn a
lot about perseverance in suffering. About an hour or so in I realized how much
my thoughts were becoming increasingly negative. I wanted to complain, but I
knew this would make it so much more of a challenge for all of us. I knew that
it was necessary to give from my poverty of spirit and so I simply prayed “Come
Holy Spirit” in order to tame my natural instincts. </div>
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God is SO good and
faithful, because after that prayer I was able to start to make so many
parallels between this hike and my spiritual life. I recalled many things I had
learned from St. Therese and St. Jose Maria Escriva which motivated me to
continue making the steps up the mountain. I know that these lights came from
the Holy Spirit because He is faithful to all who call and the consolations I
was able to provide for the others around me were inspirations for me as well! We
certainly bonded as a group through this climb. All I wanted was to make it to
the top because Jesus was waiting for me there. Once we arrived at the summit
we received our Source and Summit in the Eucharist at Mass in the small chapel
on top of the mountain.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Despite the harsh weather conditions, we spotted a rainbow
over Clue Bay after mass. The view was absolutely spectacular! Even though I
was soaked to the bone I was overwhelmed with joy because I realized that
though the mountains, plains, and islands in the bay were so beautiful and a
testament of God’s power, I was convicted of how much more glorious each of us
were upon receiving Christ in the Eucharist. Of course there is much more I
could say about the lights we all received from this hike, but I must tell you
it’s something you certainly don’t want to miss, the view alone is the best I
saw in all of Ireland. We finished our retreat with a visit to the Shrine of Our
Lady of Knock... AWESOME... and then ate dinner at Bed and Breakfast for
pilgrims run by the Daughters of Charity. Overall, this retreat was an
incredible opportunity for me spiritually and it’s something I definitely
recommend for those planning on really experiencing Ireland before future
Austria semesters. <o:p></o:p></div>
N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-55953978655048234882011-10-05T15:19:00.000+02:002011-10-06T10:07:06.188+02:00Polska, Polska, Polska: Head Awake & Heart Ablaze<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A<i> blog post by Leanna Praetzel, Fall 2011</i><br />
<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7CKM36QuKRg/ToxM7ZBaQbI/AAAAAAAAC0U/gcYanaUO9J8/s1600/iPod+Album+1+040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7CKM36QuKRg/ToxM7ZBaQbI/AAAAAAAAC0U/gcYanaUO9J8/s320/iPod+Album+1+040.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Skipping down the sidewalks of
Czestachowa, Poland at 6:30 in the morning after an overnight bus ride,
clapping and singing the only Polish song you know (Sto lat!) over and over
again: that’s the best way to know who your true friends are. At least…
it is from my experiences, anyway. Many students were suffering the
effects of sleep deprivation—and rightfully so! A bus is difficult enough
to be comfortable on whilst passengers are awake, let alone asleep (or at least
trying to be). But with a mix of sufficient shut-eye (thanks to the
semi-comfy sleeping spot I claimed on the bus’s floor) along with the Polish
blood fervently pulsing through my veins, I found myself ecstatic on the
streets of Czestachowa, head awake and heart ablaze.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">I suppose the unveiling of the Black
Madonna also contributed to my unusual alertness at such an early hour Friday
morning. A miraculous image of Mary and the infant Jesus painted by St.
Luke on top of a table that Jesus built? Yes please! Of course I
couldn’t pass up a tour given by a pleasant and quite comical German priest
either; He took us around the fortress that housed the Black Madonna to see
hidden chapels, statues, and even a treasure room containing the First Holy
Communion veil of St. Thérèse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">From Czestachowa our bus turned its
wheels toward the infamous Auschwitz—a place I was uneasy about going to.
Eighth grade history class had pounded the Holocaust into my sensitive self so
forcefully, I felt sad and guilty very often. I frequently wondered why
we had to learn about the Holocaust in the first place. Needless to say,
Auschwitz was not on the top of my to-do list. But I went anyway… and I’m
glad I did.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">The concentration camp
existed. It was there, where I stood, brick on brick. It was the
solid, enduring evidence of the terrible fate of many innocent people.
But the mounds of piled shoes, suitcases, and more were not placed on display
to make us cry; on the contrary, they served, in my eyes, as a memorial to
those who died. Each picture and flower, building and stone had its place
on the grounds of Auschwitz, reverently pointing towards the victims.
This helped me to see the Holocaust as not something that requires constant
sorrow (although, as we are human, some sensitivity must indeed be felt), but
rather as something that simply needs to be remembered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Not to mention that in the dark
tunnel of Auschwitz I found a surprise light—Maximilian Kolbe. Talk about
joy! This saint took another man’s place in being sentenced to
starvation, and still sang hearty praises to God. I never imagined a
concentration camp to contain a square inch of happiness, and yet, upon seeing
St. Maximilian’s cell, I couldn’t help but smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l1SE4C0nfnE/ToxM9nb-1JI/AAAAAAAAC0c/KaFo6EONHis/s1600/iPod+Album+1+057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l1SE4C0nfnE/ToxM9nb-1JI/AAAAAAAAC0c/KaFo6EONHis/s320/iPod+Album+1+057.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Of course, nothing says a happy
ending to our Poland trip quite like the Divine Mercy Shrine in Krakow.
One of the sisters from the shrine gave a wonderful talk reaffirming the
outstanding joy that can come through suffering. The talk also described
the extreme <i>power</i> of Divine Mercy: during his final days of living, Nazi
commander Rudolf Höss, convicted for ruthlessly murdering the lives of
millions, made a 180-degree turn. Upon finally realizing the gravity of
his sin, Höss wrote Poland a profound apology letter and sincerely asked God
for forgiveness. Along with many people, I believe this man has been
forgiven... What are the sands of sin in comparison to the vast ocean of God's
mercy?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Our final stop, Blessed Pope John
Paul II’s hometown of Wadowice, quite literally provided the icing on the
cake. Ever since he was a boy, JP II was absolutely crazy about the
pastry “kremówka”. Now, vendors in Wadowice market the delectable “Pope
Cake” dessert to sweet-toothed tourists like me. So, a plastic fork and a
powdered sugar-covered scarf later, I was ready to once again roam the lovely
streets of Polska, but this time the same ones that Karol Wojtyla himself
roamed as a child. I felt very fortunate, especially when I was able to
touch his baptismal font!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Truthfully, I was saddened when
boarding the Gaming-bound bus—Poland was so full of vibrant life! But I
knew that I will value my time spent there for decades to come. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-85856044536192591502011-10-03T15:32:00.000+02:002011-10-03T15:32:03.435+02:00Living to the Fullest<br />
<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TSHwq0u870Y/TomzgGRlIOI/AAAAAAAAC0A/DXX-ZgAVamA/s1600/IMG_8727.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TSHwq0u870Y/TomzgGRlIOI/AAAAAAAAC0A/DXX-ZgAVamA/s320/IMG_8727.JPG" width="320" /></a>A blog post by Chelsea Graham<br />
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All throughout the Poland Pilgrimage ideas for this blog
kept popping into my head, but now that I’m writing it, I don’t know if it’s
what I really want to write about…<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I loved Poland, it
was an incredible experience, and one I am so glad that I had, but it was
possibly one of the hardest things I’ve experienced. It was wicked cool to see
the unveiling of the Black Madonna, touch my rosary to St. Faustina’s relic at
the Divine Mercy Shrine, have mass at the Cathedral in Krakow, and see where
Blessed John Paul the Second grew up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
at some of those times I felt like I wasn’t on a pilgrimage, just on a trip
visiting Poland. But then Auschwitz would pop into my head. It would remind me of
the horror that happened inside the barbed-wire fences. Flashes of buildings,
the sleeping conditions, and the death wall would flood my memory, and remind
me that this was indeed a pilgrimage. <o:p></o:p></div>
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After Auschwitz I almost forgot how to be happy for a while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the rest of that night I was dazed, I was
angry, but most of all, I was confused. How could any human being watch what
the prisoners were going through and not do anything? What spell were the
“commandants” under? None of it had made sense to me. And yes, I’ve seen
pictures and read books on the Holocaust, but those in no way prepared me for
what I saw at Auschwitz. Nothing could have prepared me for actually being
there and beholding the atrocities. <o:p></o:p></div>
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For the rest of the weekend I felt guilty for having a bed
to sleep in, food for every meal, and the freedom to do what I want--all the
very things that were denied to the prisoners of the concentration camp. It
wasn’t until days later at the Festival of Praise (an evening of charismatic prayerful
song and praise) that I really let everything sink in, and I accepted it. What
right did I have to let life pass me by and not live it to the fullest in the
honor of those who couldn’t? The prisoners of the camps will always be a
reminder that there is evil in our world, and our lives can change in a matter
of minutes, everything can take a turn for the worse in seconds, or we can lose
all of our material possessions in a blink of an eye (just think of all the
recent natural disasters).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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And we can continue to live just waiting for that to happen
or we can look at the opposite end of the spectrum: for many of us, we have our
occasional difficulties, but we also have a beautiful, happy life and
everything we basically need. We have more than the prisoners of the camp could
even dream of in their time of need, so let’s take advantage of that. Let’s not
let another day go by when we don’t thank God for the beautiful gifts he has
given to us: for his mercy, love and compassion. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I am so blessed to be here in Gaming, and I let almost a
whole week go by without even enjoying any of his beauty. Time is of the
essence, so let’s not waste it! Go out, explore the beauty of creation, spend
time with everyone you love, and love till it hurts. Love like you’ve never
loved before for in the scheme of things, we really have so much to be thankful
for. <o:p></o:p></div>
N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-22003983582946490792011-09-29T16:31:00.000+02:002011-09-29T16:31:06.726+02:00Life or Death: A Commentary on our Recent Pilgrimage to Poland<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i>A blog post by Joe White, Fall 2011</i></span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CUcd2dIy798/ToR_cwJi35I/AAAAAAAACz4/diQC8uKHlLs/s1600/Poland+258.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CUcd2dIy798/ToR_cwJi35I/AAAAAAAACz4/diQC8uKHlLs/s320/Poland+258.JPG" width="212" /></a></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">“Before man
are life and death, and whichever he chooses shall be given to him.” </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">– Sirach
15:17<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> “Are you going to
write about Poland?” my friend and co-blogger Leanna asked. “Yes. Definitely,”
I responded. “I just don’t know where I would begin. How do you talk about that
trip in a blog?” she asked. That is a mighty fine question. How do you write about
a journey that included stops at the image of the Black Madonna, Auschwitz,
Blessed John Paul II’s spot of ordination, Birkenau, the miraculous image of
Divine Mercy, and JPII’s hometown? Better question: how do I write about it
without making the post shallow, not giving respect to true gravity of what was
experienced last weekend? I’m not totally sure, but here we go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> The whole
pilgrimage was, for me, a face-to-face encounter with reality. A while back on
main campus Father Dominic gave a talk on faith and reality. “People like to
use the Karl Marx quote, ‘religion is the opiate of the masses.’ And that quote
is true if it’s bad religion. Real faith puts you in reality, in your world. It
does not dull you to, but ought to spark you to live in and make it better.”</span><a href="file:///C:/DOCUME~1/KALPAG~1/LOCALS~1/Temp/XPgrpwise/Gaming%20Blog%203%20-%20Poland.docx#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">[1]</span></span></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">
The talk had a very profound effect on me and ever since then I try to live in
this reality with the faith<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zcm3F44rP7I/ToR_P7yu3RI/AAAAAAAACzs/fHfCuyIv-B8/s1600/Poland+061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zcm3F44rP7I/ToR_P7yu3RI/AAAAAAAACzs/fHfCuyIv-B8/s320/Poland+061.JPG" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> Anyway, our first
stop in the journey was in Czestochowa to venerate the Black Madonna, Our Lady
of Czestochowa. To make a long story short, this miraculous image has saved the
Polish people numerous times because of their faith. Reading the stories of her
intercession in battles certainly fascinated me; however, it was the wall of
canes, crutches, and other assorted tools for the disabled that hit me with the
reality of prayer. These crutches were left behind by people who were healed by
the Blessed Mother’s intercession—right there in the chapel before the image.
As the apostles left their nets and followed the Christ, so too did the healed
leave baggage behind to and step into their new found freedom. And who could
discount these physical examples of the supernatural? This was a fifteen-foot
wall adorned with crutches. Did the religious at the monastery hang them up to
manipulate religious fervor? That many canes? There is no way. Were the people
who hung them there faking it? There is no doubt in my mind that miracles
happen at Czestochowa. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YPvkY0XSqyE/ToR_VpVAklI/AAAAAAAACzw/KV5ZZiHMvaw/s1600/Poland+088.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YPvkY0XSqyE/ToR_VpVAklI/AAAAAAAACzw/KV5ZZiHMvaw/s320/Poland+088.JPG" width="212" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> On to Auschwitz:
there I stood against the Death Wall, eyes fixed in front of me where hardly 70
years before hate-filled men fired away at victims who did not deserve what
they received, listening to the same calm, creepy wind rustle the leaves in the
trees behind me. What was once a multiple choice question on an exam, a
black-and-white photo in a textbook, or an abridged non-fiction novel for my
German III class, was now a glaring, draining reality. What we saw was hell.
People were led in to work and die and treated so inhumanely. Few of us were
gushing with emotion throughout the tour; rather, I felt flat and numb. Here I
saw one side of the polarity of free will: we can choose death and exterminate
one million human beings. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Or we can choose life. We can choose the love and mercy of Christ
and transform ourselves and the world. In a free gift of self to the Lord and a
free choice to love, our humanity is transformed. St. Faustina gave herself to
Christ and for that reason was able to give to humanity an image and the chaplet
of his Divine Mercy.</span><a href="file:///C:/DOCUME~1/KALPAG~1/LOCALS~1/Temp/XPgrpwise/Gaming%20Blog%203%20-%20Poland.docx#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">[2]</span></span></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">
A meek and humble religious sister—cloistered at that—and yet she chose to
allow Christ to transform her so that he could transform others—not only during
her lifetime, but a century later and years beyond. With our free choice, indeed
we can choose to love—to love as Karol Wojtyla did and the main saints before
him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Yvhzd4K_crk/ToR_Jz29LmI/AAAAAAAACzo/IBqf7DDs8l8/s1600/Poland+388.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Yvhzd4K_crk/ToR_Jz29LmI/AAAAAAAACzo/IBqf7DDs8l8/s320/Poland+388.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> By far my favorite part of
the trip was our two-and-a half hours in Wadowice, Wojtyla’s home town. It
appeared to be just a quiet, small, unassuming town, a town where a boy grew
up. The Catholic Church in the middle of town was not as splendid and ornate as
the other churches we’ve visited. Nevertheless, having attended Latin mass that
morning I reflected on how much I appreciate vernacular masses. And yet in this
town, a child went to Latin mass in this (relatively) small church, faced with
death and pain, and yet he became Blessed John Paul II, “the Great”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I was hit with so much peace in this town that a boy was formed
here. He wasn’t pope or priest—just a boy. And yet he loved and chose God and
chose life. And as a sister told us this weekend, God’s secret is that he
doesn’t want to give you little, he wants to give you much. Karol Wojtyla chose
to let God do this for him—give him much. And through that choice, his humanity
was transformed into a life-giving force—a force that continues to change
lives.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Before man are life and death, and whichever he chooses shall be
given to him. Which one do you want?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="mso-element: footnote-list;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br clear="all" /></span>
<hr align="left" size="1" width="33%" />
<div id="ftn1">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/DOCUME~1/KALPAG~1/LOCALS~1/Temp/XPgrpwise/Gaming%20Blog%203%20-%20Poland.docx#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">[1]</span></span></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> Heavily paraphrased, he
said it far better than I ever could.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn2" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/DOCUME~1/KALPAG~1/LOCALS~1/Temp/XPgrpwise/Gaming%20Blog%203%20-%20Poland.docx#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">[2]</span></span></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> Twas truly a beautiful,
beautiful experience to receive reconciliation in the Divine Mercy Chapel in
Krakow and then do penance before the miraculous image of Divine Mercy. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
</div>
N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-5816081456860860762011-09-28T09:32:00.000+02:002011-09-28T09:36:35.873+02:00Austrian Rain<i>A poem by Leanna Praetzel, Fall 2011</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i><div class="MsoNormal" style="display: inline !important; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<div style="display: inline !important;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Austrian
rain</span></div>
</div>
</i><br />
<i>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Came.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Simply not</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">The same.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Swift the
song</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">All along</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Red roof,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Window
pane.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Your name,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Scattered</span></div>
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</div>
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</div>
<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">In the
breeze.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Carried
clouds</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">About,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Among the
trees,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Mountain
top,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Through my
hair.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">You were
there.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Thunder,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Soft and
sweet.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Different.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Sin</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">And mercy
meet.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">At my
window,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">In my room,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Incomplete.</span></div>
</i>N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1927478233130190550.post-32114254009956789232011-09-26T14:42:00.002+02:002011-09-26T14:42:52.897+02:00Playing Tag with God and the Kartause Children<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><b>A blog post by Chelsea Graham, Fall 2011</b></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
This past weekend we had a school trip to Salzburg. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was absolutely incredible, and I certainly
fell in love with the city! I enjoyed it lot more than Vienna, even though
Vienna is great too. I did what all the tourists from the United States would
do and went to as many of the Sound of Music sights I could, but I also went to
churches, markets, etc. We finished the trip with a stop in the <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ondsee and went to St.Michael’s Basilica
(wedding church from the Sound of Music), which quite possibly is my favorite
church we have visited thus far. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Early this week, I
was playing tag with the “Kartause Children,” who are the kids of the
staff/faculty of the Austrian campus, and every time I would “tag” them, they
told me that where they are is “safety” and that I’m still “it.” No matter
where they were, they could never be “it.” Afterwards it struck me, how often
do we play “tag” with God? How often do we ask him to change our lives, or come
into our lives but then say, “Oh not this part” or “now’s not a good time” or
something like that? The Lord doesn’t give up on us, but how long are we going
to make him run after us? As students, or people in the work force, or stay-at-home
parents, we all lead busy lives, but if the Lord of all of creation can make
time for us, and wants so badly to spend time with us, how can we not give him
fifteen minutes a day and a holy hour once or twice a week?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Isaiah 43:4 says, “Since you are precious and honored in my sight,
and because I love you, I will give people in exchange for you, nations in
exchange for your life.” He is so willing to do anything to make us happy, to
let us feel his love, but yet, sometimes we just don’t let him in. Or we compartmentalize
or box him into our limited understanding of reality. We let him into one
aspect of our life, but put our guard up in other parts? We let him in on
Sundays during mass, but the rest of the week we put him on the back shelf. Why
is that when we’re with our family, God is part of our life, but at work no one
even knows that we’re Christians? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This semester in Austria has already been incredible, and I love
it, but truthfully I haven’t made the most of if. I’ve gone through the motions
of daily mass, praying decades of the rosary throughout the day, but what’s the
point if I’m not really going to let the Lord really into my life? What’s the point
of all of this if I don’t have a personal relationship with him? If I’m going
to thrive this semester it is not <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>only
by traveling to as many places as possible, but by letting God “tag me” so I
can chase after him and grow in Him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m looking forward to playing by the new rules! <o:p></o:p></div>
N&Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323531955186506428noreply@blogger.com3