A gut-wrenching trip to Auschwitz calls us to Love

Before the Poland excursion, when I heard “Poland” I could only envision an icy landscape, small towns, and a concentration camp. It shows how much I, clearly, don’t know about the world. The funny thing is that nobody talks about Poland once the issue of the concentration camps has passed. Nobody bothers to discuss the vibrancy and bustle amidst the art and architecture of Krakow. Even when you leave Krakow the goodness doesn’t end because you find a quaint tranquility in Wadowice. These lovely bits of our visit to Poland seem almost unfairly idyllic when juxtaposed with Auschwitz.

Let’s talk about Auschwitz:

Everyone on the bus knew that the day ahead was going to be intense but no level of preparation could predict any given person’s reaction. I expected to cry and to leave feeling a bit sad. However, as I witnessed the remains of the atrocities done to women I didn’t have the ability to be sad or feel sympathy. I felt pure and undiluted rage and disgust. What kind of mind invents this stuff? The part that was the worst for me was not the crematorium’s walls that just seeped with pain, or the isolation cells in Block 11, the death that lingers in the air sixty years later, the unnatural cold, and not even the gallows. What hit me like a giant school bus were three things:

At Auschwitz there is this room with a glass encasement full of hair. You’d never guess how haunting a mountain of human hair can be. The huge mound of human hair sits behind the glass in one of the exhibits. I’ve never seen such an ungodly amount of human hair as was preserved behind this glass. The Nazi’s had kept it to sell to factories or to use for other sick purposes. I walked into the room that held the hair and took in a sharp breath. The amount of hair gave a really tangible estimation of just how many people were murdered at Auschwitz. It was like a wall of hair. I walked up and down it trying to wrap my brain around all of this hair. There were so many different textures, lengths, but the colors had mostly faded into the same deadened brown, save a few red and blonde pieces. They say a woman’s hair is her crown and countless women had been stripped of their crowns. I stood there staring at the pile of crowns that would never again find their owners. A woman’s hair is something intimate. For a woman, it’s not just dead skin cells that hang around her face. Rather, it’s that thing you fidget with when you’re nervous, or hide behind, or that other people run their fingers through to show affection. Even when a woman is completely naked she still has her hair to wrap around her but the women at Auschwitz were not permitted to keep even that. The Nazi’s literally took everything. For what? To make blankets from the hair, to sell to factories for a few paltry dollars, or to completely strip their victims of any semblance of humanity? It seemed it was to completely break the human spirit.

Just like the mountain of hair, there was a huge mound of shoes behind another glass wall. I’d wager there were a few thousand pairs of shoes in there. Some of the most fabulous shoes I’ve ever seen were in there and each was a haunting reflection of the lives people had led before Auschwitz. Shoes tell you a great deal about people and their values. The style of the shoe shows if they value comfort above all, if appearance is number one or if they have a nice balance between the two. They give clues to where their wearers are going and where they come from. There was a pair of cream and red flowered pumps, a pair of cream and green wedges, ballet flats, and worst of all, shoes small enough for a child.

These traces of humanity made the rest of the time at Auschwitz much more powerful. These traces turned the experience into something more personal because now I couldn’t help but think about real, individual people, not just an ambiguous mob of prisoners. Trying to imagine what it would be like to have someone take everything from me in order to kill my spirit before murdering me was almost impossible. I couldn’t picture anyone living that way. It’s almost like they exterminated the spirit so they could more easily kill the body and throw it out.

The part that spoke the loudest to me was the covered windows across from block 11, right above the execution area. The windows hid the experiments of a gynecologist who used young Jewish girls to test contraceptives and other such things. What more could they take from these woman? They had their family, their possessions, their freedom, their hair, everything, yet now they would take the last semblance of femininity and treat it like a Petri dish. Taking shoes is one thing but taking a woman’s uterus is on a whole other level of depersonalization: No love but pure torture—complete and total objectification. The girls became like “its.” The screams that came through those windows must have been gut-wrenching.

The only comparison that came to me was the image of the indigenous people who used every bit of the animals they killed. They wasted nothing and got as much out of each kill as possible. The Nazi’s used every bit and left close to nothing for their victims to clutch in the aftermath.

After learning about incommunicability, depersonalization, and the “I” each person possesses in Philosophy of the Human Person, it was so clear just which elements of the person were violated during the Holocaust. Yet, as our group ended the day at the death camps with the Chaplet of Divine Mercy, I realized that these crimes leave no more room for hate but only mercy. A lack of mercy and an abundance of hate are what propelled the Holocaust to begin with. I didn’t leave Auschwitz angry, though. I couldn’t. It would have been an injustice to the memory of those who suffered. I left with a better understanding of humanity and the need for love as our only motive. The atrocities I witnessed in that one day were a call to love, not just for me but for everyone. Let’s love.

The Deafening Silence

A blog post by Emily Rolla, Spring 2011

Walking up to the gate bearing the infamous phrase, “Arbeit Macht Frei,” I heard a small child wailing. Spooked, I turned around and saw a women walking past with a small child. It was a coincidence, but it certainly set the tone for my experience with Auschwitz. As soon as you stepped onto the grounds, you felt the death looming over the area.

Now, let me just start by saying I’ve always been a bit of a crybaby. I cry at the end of Disney movies. Visiting this place where so many were stripped of their human dignity made it difficult for me to cry. It was so incomprehensibly evil. I couldn’t cry for a large portion of the camp, because I couldn’t process how anyone could be so inhumane to our brothers and sisters.

“Here is where they preformed experiments on women and learned how to sterilize them… Here are cells that had no ventilation and the prisoners slowly suffocated… here are all of the toys of the children that died here…here is the hair of the prisoners they would ship to factories to make rugs for the Germans…” –It was far too much.

I spent the day fasting in preparation of Auschwitz. I complain about being hungry about every two hours, and now I know that I have no right to. There are so many freedoms we take for granted- going to the bathroom whenever we want, for example. It sounds silly or trifling, but you got shot if you tried to use the latrines more than twice a day. In fact, the best job in the camp was cleaning the latrines because they had access to their use. It’s amazing. We have the gift of life- with TVs and computers and fast food and convenience. They had no sense of what “convenience” was because they didn’t care about their own appetites so much as just surviving.

I have been to the Holocaust Museum in D.C., but that cannot prepare you for what you see here. You are not just looking at artifacts, removed from the conditions of others- you are staring people in the face. You can see them form lines, you can hear them scream, you can feel them clawing for air in the gas chambers. You see the black smoke. You are staring evil in the face, and it’s too much to handle. As it was said in the movie we watched on the way to Poland, “When evil is only imagined, you can live with it. But when it is manifest, before your eyes, there is no way out.”

How many evils are we living with? Abortion is still legal in our country. Human trafficking continues. Poverty eats away at the dignity of our fellow human brothers and sisters. Why do we feel so uncomfortable when we see someone begging for food? As Christians, we know we are obliged to help them, and we are denying our conscience when we don’t. We know that person deserves to be treated with respect and dignity, but we walk on the other side of the road and pretend they don’t exist. It is those who remain passive and silent who perpetuate indignities.

“When it is manifest, there is no way out.” Imagine that you witnessed an abortion. Imagine that you were the one who was homeless and starving. Imagine that you were forced to sell yourself, just to survive. Would you fight, or do nothing? How much despair would you feel when no one came to help you? How much doubt in God would you have, when someone created in His likeness is the reason you are suffering and those claiming to love Him do nothing?

We tend to put a wall up when we hear about atrocities, saying, “Oh, that’s so sad,” and then return to our daily activities and maybe say a prayer and forget about it later on.

The silence here- the silence was deafening. It wasn’t the silence of the prisoners, though. The indignity shown throughout the history of mankind was crying out- and it was I who remained silent. My own silence was the loudest I had ever faced- silence for the sake of convenience, something these victims had no concept of. It wasn’t convenient to go pray outside the clinic in the cold. It wasn’t convenient to drive down to the soup kitchen. It wasn’t convenient to love. It wasn’t convenient to act or speak up.

I hope I will always carry this experience with me, that I may never remain deaf and silent in the midst of the cries of others ever again.

Poland: At Home in Mercy

A blog post by Dan McNally, Spring 2011

After a week of study which seemed to last forever, Thursday night we boarded the buses for Poland. We prayed for a safe trip, and started the movie Karol: The Man Who Became Pope. I had seen it before, but in preparation not only to see the places where he grew up, became a priest, and became a cardinal, but also in preparation for the horrors of the concentration camps, the movie provided a powerful perspective which stayed with me the whole weekend. The movie was very long, however, and on a bus ride into the morning, few people got adequate sleep. Before we realized it, it was 5:45 A.M., and we were sprinting to the shrine of Our Lady of Czestochowa to be present for the unveiling of the image kept there. Tradition holds that the icon of our lady of Czestochowa was painted by St. Luke the Evangelist on a table that Christ built for his mother. We made it on time, and with trumpet blasts and drum rolls, the image appeared. It was beautiful, and such a powerful connection to the early church. Not only that, but with Mary as queen of Poland, our connection to the sufferings and joys of the Polish people and heritage began the moment we set foot in their country.

After a morning of reflection and prayer, we prepared ourselves for the journey into the mouth of hell at Auschwitz. The weather could not have been more fitting. It was very cold, and the sky was an intimidating and oppressive heavy gray. Walking on that ground, I pictured the thousands and thousands of feet that had trod in that very spot, many of them walking unwittingly to their deaths. We saw things I'd rather not repeat; we saw things no one should see, much less of which to fall victim. In the emotionless state in which I found myself after just a short time, the thought occurred to me that this was not just murder. I had always seen the holocaust as a horror and a terrible event of evil and malice, but being there, walking those paths, hearing how many died every day seeing where they died, seeing how people had become statistics, how the Nazis made up for lack of killing resources and time by expanding their daily operations, I saw that it truly was a universal extermination: Hitler had a goal, a quota, and given more time and resources, he would have met it. It was utterly “efficient” depravity. Romans 5:20 tells us “...where sin increased, grace abounded all the more...” The palpable darkness of this atrocity underscored and highlighted the virtues of the just who gave their lives, and showed that love is more powerful than death. Standing in front of Maximilian Kolbe's cell, one could not deny that the grace of God's love living through Him was infinitely more potent than the poison that was pulsating through their captor’s veins.

Saturday was spent in Krakow. In the afternoon, we ventured to the Shrine of Divine Mercy. We venerated the relics of St. Faustina, and in the chapel there, prayed a Divine Mercy chaplet in five languages, the unity of which brought happiness to my heart. This joy continued and grew all weekend. It continued at the Shrine, where we celebrated the Mass. Going up to communion in this place of mercy, after a few days of darkness and doubt of God's love, I looked up at the image of the loving merciful Christ above me, I felt a sense of peace I could not shake. I was reminded of the advice of a priest and friend back home, who had encouraged me to pray for Christ's Divine Mercy every day, and I felt at home once more. That night when we returned to the hotel, I stayed alone in my room and prayed, and found such peace in the Divine Mercy, it's difficult to describe or relay, but all I can say is pray to Jesus, realize his love and mercy, and put your trust in Him. He is with you at all times.

The next morning we celebrated a Polish-Latin Mass at JPII's cathedral in Krakow. I was struck by the first mark of the Church, that of unity and oneness. Though the language was completely foreign to me, I always knew what was being prayed, and I softly spoke the prayers in English to myself. Though it was in a foreign country and language, it was the same liturgy, the same Mass, as if I hadn't left my home parish. After Mass, we visited Nowa Huta, the town made for Communism and Atheism, and saw how Christianity could not be kept out, and saw where many died defending the cross against the oppressive regime of the time. At the conclusion of our time, we visited Wadowice, John Paul II's hometown. We walked through his parish, saw Mass being celebrated and entered into the timeless universal sacrifice, as he did so many times there. One could feel the quiet holiness of this humble place.

Poland is a country of great culture, history, suffering, and resurrection. The Polish people are a rock of faith, and they are proud of their history, their pain, and their renewal in Christ. It was an honor to be a guest to their wonderful part of the world. We keep Divine Mercy in mind as we prepare for midterms this week!

John Paul the Great, pray for us. Jesu Ufam Tobie.

Relish! (not the pickley condiment)

A blog post by Maria Rocha, Spring 2011

Since arriving here, all my friends and I have been able to talk about is leaving. Budapest! Italy! Bled! Prague! Ireland! Spain! We throw countries and cities around conversation like we’re in geography class. After a few weeks of this frantic planning, I realized that we were missing something really huge. We had tunnel vision on the train out of Gaming and didn’t even bother to look around and realize what a beautiful town we’ve been put in. I mean, when are we going to be HERE again? Here, nestled in the mountains of Austria in a monastery. I feel like that chance won’t come again for most of us. There is something to be said about Gaming and the incredible ability it has to calm me in the middle of the most stressful days. Taking a walk in Gaming is better than therapy. Seriously! When I leave the Kartause and the mayhem of classes behind and start walking, I remember that life goes on outside of the microcosm we have constructed for ourselves in the Kartause.

This in mind, I decided to take my weekend in Gaming early in the semester. As my peers were frantically booking hostels and throwing their ipods in their backpacks, I sat back and thought about all the time I would have to just exist in this quaint environment with a few friends. The calm, studious weekend I was expecting turned out to be much more exciting and fulfilling than I imagined. The only regret I had in staying behind is that I wouldn’t experience anything new in terms of culture, people, or language. Lucky for me, Budapest, Hungary came to Gaming in the form of friends of a student here at the Kartause. The weekend was a mixture of English and Hungarian spiced with frantic gestures, card tricks, and jokes.

Though we only experienced a small group of Hungarian people, we found them to be so alive and joyful. When I say alive, I don’t mean simply breathing bodies but alive in the sense that they were vibrant minds and personalities. The Hungarians sing with a gusto that is so endearing. Each of them knows the words and tune as if they were born with the music inside of them. They sing when they drink, when they walk, while they cook, before they eat, and while they are relaxing. It’s lovely form of expression and more interesting than simply saying, “This beer is delicious,” or “Wow we’ve been walking for so long.”

Each of us was so curious about the others’ lifestyle that we spent the weekend grilling each other and laughing at the strange habits of the other. The greatest complaint the Hungarians voiced was, “Why do you not use the metric system? What is this primitive foot, gallon system you use?” Of all the strange things I’m sure we do in America, they wondered about our measurements. In my shock, all I could do was laugh to myself and pass the question on to one of my friends to answer.

At the end of the weekend, I felt as if I had been on my own journey of sorts, though I never left Gaming. The weekend didn’t leave me with a feeling of restlessness or dissatisfaction, rather, a greater appreciation of the environment in which I am so blessed to live in temporarily. I have learned the art of “relishing in the present.”

Alpine Penguin Sliding: Good times in the Alps

A blog post by Greg Sisco, Spring 2011

As we raced down the mountain head-first at a speed never reached by man before in this particular way, I began to reflect on my life. I had indeed lived a very blessed life full of laughter, family, and friends. I had come to a very stable point in my relationship with Christ, and yet I felt like there was so much more to come. In short: I was not ready to die. Not here. Not now. Not like this.

Perhaps I should clarify what exactly my friend Dan McNally and I were doing and what exactly led to this particular stunt. After a day of snowboarding in the Alps, we had conquered every single run presented to us with ease; with the exception of the run they call “Number Eight”. Not only was it the steepest run, but the iciest as well. For all those familiar with snow related sports, this is a deadly combination for those without Winter Olympic quality talent. Every single time we had gone down this run, we had been knocked off balance and sent flying down the mountain on our backs. Our friends on skis had repeatedly achieved numerous “yard sales” – a term given to a skier who loses his poles, skis, helmet, gloves, etc. in the event of a massive wipeout.

Dan and I decided that we would not be thrown off balance against our will any longer. We would instead control our own destiny and “Penguin Slide” number eight – a term used by snowboarders who launch themselves face first, on their stomachs, with their boards up in the air, down the mountain. I went first, followed immediately by Dan. Dan picked up much more speed than I did and ran into me. Dan grabbed my legs and in effect created a two man penguin slide. The combined force of the two of us greatly increased our acceleration and soon we were going at a pace much faster than we had anticipated. As we made our way down number 8 at a speed probably around 30-35 mph, I stuck my arms out in front of me to slow us down, yet all this did was knock a bunch of snow into my face. About halfway down the mountain, Dan began to recite the few parts of the Hail Mary in German that he knew; after all it was the feast of Our Lady of Lourdes that day.

We eventually came to a stop and began to laugh uncontrollably, and praised the Lord for sparing our lives despite our intentional endangering of them. I checked to make sure that all of my body parts were still intact. The Austrian skiers around us all laughed at our American foolishness, yet I like to think they were secretly admiring our bravery and accomplishment of conquering the mountain. A priest back on main campus once said to me, “You know Greg, one day you are going to regret the things you do.” I’m beginning to see his point, however this was a matter of dignity, a matter of showing this mountain who was boss. We risked it all to conquer this Alpine slope, and came away with sweet victory. Yet we have more than just victory, we have a memory of the good times we spent defying human logic in the Alps together.

Skiing & Prague: The Blessings Continue

A blog post by Dan McNally, Spring 2011

Dear Parents, friends, & family, our semester continues at breakneck speed.

My week has been so full of grace and blessings, I can hardly contain myself! During the week we study hard and come closer through study, prayer, and fun together. All of this makes time move so quickly, I can barely keep track of what is going on anymore. Suddenly the week is through, and we're off on another adventure.

This weekend students had a few options provided by the school, both of which I took advantage. The first was a ski trip to the Hochkar ski resort about fifty minutes from Gaming in the Austrian Alps. We drove up through the mountains just to reach the lodge. Once there, looking up the slopes takes one's breath away. The mountain range surrounding the park cannot be compared to anything I've seen before. From the top of the highest ski lift, I literally snowboarded out of a cloud. My ears popped while I was on the ski lift. I could see for miles, and the whole distance was filled with blue, snow-covered behemoths. It was incredible. I will never forget the feeling of riding down into that valley. I even had a little goofy fun with a friend of mine. Nothing unsafe, fear not! My friend Greg and I penguin slid down the

steepest slope on our bellies, and it was probably the most fun I had all day. It was a safe, straight shot down, and we plummeted at speeds

I don't even want to imagine, but we survived, laughed, and were laughed at by the locals once we reached the bottom. It was a joy.

After a full day of very exhausting but unprecedented excitement for this semester, we hopped on the bus and headed back. Waiting for us was a warm and delicious dinner in the Mensa. Being that it was the feast of Our Lady of Lourdes, we prayed a rosary in our adoration chapel and celebrated the Mass soon after our rosary. It also happened to be my birthday, and I can tell you, Jesus and His Mother are the best people you could ever hope to spend a birthday with, and our Lord gave me the gift of Himself in the Eucharist.

The next day, we were up bright and early for our bus ride to Prague!

After very little free time this week to research information on the city, very little sleep, and not knowing the language, I felt understandably lost at the start. We were fortunate to find many amazing sights, including the statue of the Infant of Prague. The city was full of beauty in its history, architecture, and European charm.

Our group even climbed up what was once a spy tower, with much of the old technology still in it. We stopped at one particular restaurant called the crème Caffe di Balcone, which I will always recommend. I spent lunch there with our group, and for little more than seven euro,I was served a three course meal including a hot lentil and sausage soup, grilled pork with a succulent green pepper sauce and some appetizing, flavorful potatoes, and a creamy, fluffy chocolate mousse.

This description may sound corny and exaggerative, but every word is true. It was one of the best meals I've had all semester and also one of the most affordable. I was so pleased with my meal that I returned for hot chocolate with another group who wanted dinner. Whenever I saw a group that I knew pass by, I would run outside to call them in. It was quite the experience. Night drew upon us quickly, and we loaded back onto our bus.

This morning, Mass was celebrated in honor of all married couples. The

Kartause families were invited to come forward for a blessing. Seeing the parents look at their children the way they did, and seeing this love reciprocated was so touching. I praised God for letting such love exist in the world. I thought of my own parents, and how much of a blessing they have been in my life, and on behalf of all the students, I want to thank you parents who are reading for your dedication to our education, to our happiness, and to our spiritual growth. We love you and appreciate all you do for us. You are in our thoughts and prayers.

Now we prepare for another hard week of study, until we load the buses for Poland on Thursday night. Please keep us in your prayers, as this weekend will be very trying physically, emotionally and spiritually.

Of course, you will all be in mine. God bless you!

Peace in Christ,

Dan McNally

A Busy Few Weeks: Salzburg, Munich, & the Kartause

A blog post by Brandon Otto, Spring 2011

Grüß Gott!

It’s been a busy couple of weeks in Austria. With classes, travelling, and hanging out at the Kartause, I’ve definitely had my plate full.

Last weekend was our excursion to Salzburg and Munich. To get geared up for that, two days before we left, there was a showing of The Sound of Music, and someone even brought a drink suited to the occasion: Edelweiss beer. The bus ride to Salzburg included a group rosary and most of the movie Sophie Scholl – Die Ietzten Tage (Sophie Scholl – The Final Days), a 2005 film about a famous member of the White Rose, an anti-Nazi non-violent student resistance movement in the 1940s. Sophie, her brother Hans, and their friend Christoph Probst, were executed February 22, 1943, for treason. They all attended the University of Munich, and there are now memorials in Munich dedicated to their courage in opposing the Nazis. Thus, it made a fine and thought-provoking introduction to Munich.

Friday in Salzburg was a fairly open day: there was Mass, lunch, a tour, and a concert. I spent most of the day wandering the streets of Salzburg with some friends, finding interesting locations and stores. One place we discovered was the Kollegienkirche, an absolutely beautiful church that, although in the middle of renovation, was stunning in its decoration. Unlike most baroque architecture we’ve seen, its decoration was based around white instead of gold, and it lent an air of breathtaking simplicity to the church. I’d highly recommend a visit there for anyone visiting Salzburg.

Salzburg is just a gorgeous city (one of the professors keeps saying it’s the most beautiful city in the world, although she might be somewhat biased: her father is from Salzburg), so just wandering around was a treat. Since the day before was Mozart’s birthday, my friends and I stopped in to see Mozart’s birthplace and home in his early life, which was filled with artifacts, even down to Mozart’s wallet and hair. After some more walking around town, and a stop at the Augustiner, a popular beer garden in Salzburg, we went to the Schloss Mirabel (Mirabel Palace) for a classical music concert, consisting of works by Mozart, Beethoven, and César Franck. They were all chamber pieces, with the only three instrumentalists being two violinists, one of whom also played the viola, and a pianist. My favorite piece was a collection of themes from Mozart’s operas Die Zauberflöte (The Magic Flute) and Don Giovanni arranged for two violins; it included one of the most well-known themes from these operas, “Der Hölle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen” from Die Zauberflöte, popularly known as the Queen of the Night aria. To the end the night, my friends and I shared a bottle of what we believed at first to be wine, but turned out to be champagne, filled with 23-karat gold flecks.

The next day was spent in Munich, which, again, involved spending most of the day wandering with my friends. We saw the Glockenspiel, an old clock with many moving figurines that dance at the hour. We also visited St. Michael’s Church and St. Peter’s, where you can find the body of St. Munditia, patron saint of single women looking for husbands. After climbing the tower of St. Peter’s to get a good view of Munich, my friends and I wandered to an open market to find lunch, which for me included weißwurst, a sausage that is a Bavarian specialty. Following lunch, we ventured to the Deutsches Museum, the world’s largest museum of science and technology.It covers 47 square kilometers, which is roughly 18 square miles. There are sections in the museum for almost any topic you can think of. One of my favorite parts of the museum was a simplified theremin, an early electronic musical instrument played by moving your hands in the air near the instrument’s antennas: there’s no need to even touch the instrument. Its eerie sound is often associated with old horror or science fiction films: for instance, it was used in the scores for The Day the Earth Stood Still and the classic Charleton Heston film The Ten Commandments (which is neither horror nor science fiction). The simplified theremin at the museum was actually allowed to be played which, I must say, I was very excited about. On the way back from the museum, my friends and I ate some fast food Turkish barbeque. Back in Salzburg, I went with a group of students to eat kebaps, a Turkish dish that is the basis for Greek gyros, and then visit an Irish pub.

The last day of the weekend, in Salzburg, began with Mass, but my friends and I decided to start the day slightly earlier. At a nearby church, there was an advertisement for a performance of Mozart’s vespers at 9 AM. To our surprise, the performance was not actually vespers: it was a Mass involving Mozart’s music! To make it to the Mass the rest of the group would be at, we had to leave early from the first Mass; to our even greater surprise, the other Mass also included Mozart’s music! Following Mass, we drove to Mondsee for lunch and a bit of sightseeing. The most well-known sight in Mondsee is the church where the wedding scene from The Sound of Music was filmed. After all of this, we safely returned to Gaming for a well-deserved rest…until class the next morning.

This past weekend, I stayed back in Gaming. At first I had trouble finding any events going on or any people to hang out with, but I learned that that’s just a symptom of the morning: after noon passes, people seem to be a lot more active. Friday night, I attended the Divine Liturgy with a group of hikers/skiers from Britain. The Divine Liturgy is, in a sense, the equivalent of the Mass in the Byzantine Rite. The Byzantine chapel on campus was created by students from the International Theological Institute, who used to stay at the Kartause until a few years ago. It’s an awe-inspiring chapel, featuring icons of saints from both the Western and Eastern Church. I hope to be able to find some more Eastern Catholic services before the semester is through.

Yesterday, Saturday, I joined a few other students for a hike up Book Mountain. The name is a bit of a misnomer: my household brother from Alaska claims that it’s not tall enough to match the technical definition of a mountain, and supposedly it’s not even the original Book Mountain. Its German name is completely different, but the students here refer to it as Book Mountain because, well, it’s a tall natural structure with a book at the top that a hiker signs to prove he’s survived the climb. Due to the warmer temperatures lately, the snow has mostly melted, making the trail a bit slippery with its mix of mud and slush, but it was still a pretty quick climb for me: it only took about 2½ hours to go to the top and back. Of course, I was going fairly fast, so others took longer, and my household brother made it in much less time (although he does everything quickly).

Now it’s Sunday, and I’m just resting, following a Mass concelebrated by a Slovakian priest who spent many years in Siberia, a British priest, a Chinese priest, and an American priest. It feels very international to hear them all reciting the Our Father in German. That’s been all the excitement I’ve been involved in lately: hopefully in another week or two I’ll have even more things to blog about. Until next time, God bless! Auf wiedersehen!

Salzburg, Munich, & Dachau Inspire

This weekend the majority of us here at the Kartause traveled to Salzburg and Munich, where we saw the famous hills so adoringly described in The Sound of Music. We also had a chance to experience the heart of German culture and Catholic tradition by traveling throughout Munich’s churches and landmarks. The first night in Salzburg was very peaceful. A group of my friends and I trekked up the hill where Salzburg Castle (or Festung Hohensalzburg) is situated. After much climbing through the outer boundaries of the castle, we encountered a breathtaking sunset on top of a cliff that gave us a vast view of Salzburg. It was such a blessing to be able to view a glimpse of the glory of God through the sky and the landscape.

After our first night in Salzburg, we woke up early to ride the bus to Munich, where we celebrated Mass in the same church that our German Shepherd, Pope Benedict XVI, used to celebrate Mass as Archbishop of Munich--Munich Frauenkirche (Cathedral of Our Dear Lady). After Mass, we were given a small tour of some of the famous Catholic sites in Munich; it was so fascinating to walk in the footsteps of our pope and to pray where he prayed. I don’t think it hit many of us that we were actually walking through the same streets where he would walk when he was living there. It was definitely a moving experience, to say the least.

Munich is only 10 kilometers (about 6 miles) away from one of the most famous (or infamous) sites in the history of World War II--Dachau concentration camp. I was able to travel there with some of my friends, and when we arrived, I couldn’t believe how tangibly I could feel the history of that place. First of all, the grounds were so immense and so empty that I could only imagine just how many people under persecution walked those same rocky roads I did, over 75 years earlier. As I put one foot in front of the other, I tried to place myself in the shoes of a prisoner in the camp during the time of the Holocaust. Of course, I couldn’t picture the immense darkness they must have faced. Yet, as we were walking in between the buildings, we saw the sunset shine through the gates--a sign of hope; a light in the darkness. The sunset made me think of the hope of Christ’s resurrection, through which he conquered all death and darkness.

I don’t have even a slight idea of what the Holocaust victims suffered. Just being where some of them were for so long and under such torment was enough to open my eyes to the little things I often take for granted--a comfortable bed, a hot meal, a family to come home to. I was also reminded that we have a duty as human beings to fight for those who cannot fight for themselves. We are called to respect each and every person--no matter how young or old; what race, age, or gender--out of the dignity given to them by the almighty, faithful, and loving God.

Moreover, to me, the sunset at Dachau was a reminder of the Resurrection of Christ. There was darkness, yes, but the hope that shone in the midst of it was more than enough to conquer this darkness.

These lessons are some of the most important things I learned this weekend in Salzburg and Munich. Needless to say, it far exceeded my expectations of what I thought I would be doing in Munich--that is, sightseeing, shopping and maybe some beer tasting. Rather than doing these things, God led me to a piece of history through which he inspired me to never take his blessings for granted. And for this, I am eternally grateful.

Beautiful Chaos

A blog post by Maria Rocha, Spring 2011

Like the contents of my bags, life is topsy-turvy and difficult to keep up with. Days are a jumble of class, mass, prayer, music, homework, random excursions, socializing, and very little sleep. Sleeping seems to be the last priority on my list. There is so much to see and so much to experience that sleep seems to be something I can put off. The idea of living in a place that is too wonderful to sleep through is astounding because I, like most young adults, adore my pillow almost as much as I do my plate. However, this life has taught me what a precious commodity sleep and time are. It seems that one day fits enough activity for three, yet night and morning grow closer together with every passing day. The rule is: early to rise and late to sleep…if ever.

Normally these conditions would upset me and cause me to hate everyone. However, it’s the very idea of choosing to make each day as long as possible that is making this entire experience so unique. On main campus, we live for the weekend. We count down to Friday. Weekdays are a drag and the weekend is the only thing worth waiting for. Life in Gaming is, in some ways, the same. School is the thing we must do before we can gallivant around Europe for a few days.

One of my favorite differences here is the fact that the people here have leisure down to an art. Tea kitchens on each floor just cry for people to lounge and drink tea and coffee. Everyone is so much more present because we had left our unlimited texting plans in the United States. So now, we have to learn to talk and listen to only the people right in front of us. It’s an old idea that is somehow novel, really. Moreover, finding people is so much more involved. You can’t just type a few letters, press send and expect their exact location as a response. Brainpower is needed in order to minimize the amount of wandering one does to find a friend. One must examine the clock (in military time) and then eliminate all but the top three places that person would be found. Then, the hunt begins.

A simple whim is not enough to push one to wander the Kartause on a wild goose chase. No, sir. Sheer necessity and absolute boredom are the best motivators. When the person you have been searching for is finally in sight, victory is sweeter than a Milka bar.

These and other small adjustments would be huge nuisances at home. However, they are some of my favorite things about every day life in Gaming. So, ends week two. Let’s live on!

Conditioned For Simplicity

A blog post by Emily Rolla, Spring 2011

There are many reasons why it’s overwhelming coming to Europe for the first time: Custom to metric; Dollars to Euros; 12 hour time to 24 hour time; Train and bus schedules. Always feeling underdressed; Feeling limited by speaking only English. Despite all of these, the difference that strikes me the strongest is the overwhelming amount of beauty there is here.

America was founded by the Pilgrims, who stressed simplicity and practicality. Most modern day churches – even Catholic ones- are built for use rather than beauty. Of course, nothing is wrong with a simple church- there is a beauty there all its own. There are no distractions from the most important feature of the church- the Eucharist.

Here in Austria, however, you walk into a church and gold leafing covers most, if not the entire, altar. There are probably at least four side alters, just as ornately decorated with the walls and ceilings covered in frescoes and vaultings so high the opposite side of the church will hear you drop your donation coins for lighting a candle.

It’s “sensory overload,” as my roommate put it. For the first few cities I visited, I didn’t bother visiting the art museums. Why should I? I saw something close to 7 churches while in Vienna, and that was enough art to last me the rest of the week.

Baroque style is very much the signature style of architecture here in Austria- so much so that many older churches that were originally Gothic or Romanesque had their altars removed and replaced with ones that were Baroque or Rococo. For this reason, as well as how much marble and gold is used, I didn’t initially like Baroque style. It was too much; many churches appeared to me like ballrooms with pews added, something from a palace.

It was after the fourth church I visited that I realized these churches were palaces. Here was the residence of the King of Kings, where the humble faithful would come to give Him praise, beg His petition, and give Him thanks- always adoring Him on bended knee.

Additionally, the decorations to not take away from the glory of the Mass, but rather help add to it. Many of the churches here were built before our country was even discovered. The frescoes and sculptures educated the illiterate, non-Latin speaking masses and kept their minds raised to God during the Liturgy.

While I am still of the opinion that, “If it’s not Baroque, don’t fix it,” I do see the beauty and value of the Baroque style, and how it does glorify God- as do all styles, in their own way, whether they be Romanesque, Gothic, or Rococo.

The most ornate churches in the United States are quite often those built by the European immigrants, and they are nothing compared to the churches here. As a result, I feel as though Americans are conditioned more toward the simple, which is not bad. Jesus was a simple Man. He was born in a manger, was the son of a poor carpenter, and He gave Himself to us as unleavened bread- the simplest, most basic food of all. However, it is wonderful for the churches here in Europe to remind us that He is the King of all ages and the Prince of peace.

First things First: Reflecting back

Greetings from Gaming!

What a great blessing it has been to experience the Austrian culture for the past two weeks. I had no idea what to expect when I came here. Whenever I would ask someone who has been here before to describe their experience for me they would often respond by saying “It is indescribable” or “It is beyond words.” Somehow, these friends of mine thought this answer was going to provide me with a sense of consolation as I prepared to travel over 5000 miles to a country whose language I cannot speak. Yet upon arriving and having spent a little time in Austria, I share their sense of wonder and amazement. It is difficult for me to put my affections for Austria into words, yet I have come up with a list of three things that you should know about Franciscan’s study abroad program.

1) It is important to remember that this journey to Europe is first and foremost a pilgrimage for the students. Every city and country that we visit is oozing with Catholic culture. This past weekend in Salzburg and Munich, we were able to visit the resting places of several martyrs and saints, including St. Munditia – the patron saint of single women. The churches that we visit are often at least 600 years old, absolutely huge, and simply breathtaking. Though they feature architecture and paintings from different periods of history, they are all a house of worship of the same Lord Jesus Christ.

2) We are given the opportunity to live in a Carthusian monastery. If that is not reason enough to come to Gaming, I don’t know what is. Though time is limited, there is plenty of opportunity for prayer and finding time to contemplate the mysteries of our faith in the silence that the monks found so useful for so many years.

3) Let’s face it: traveling is hard. It is physically and emotionally draining. You will find that some of your friendships will be tested. Also, it is incredibly hard to find time to do homework when you are on the road each weekend. Nevertheless, in the face of controversy, we are given the opportunity to find out who we truly are. In times of crisis, we can either panic or trust in the tools that God has given to us. And though some friendships might fail, others will thrive and you will get to know people on a more intimate level than you ever imagined you would.

May our awesome God bless you and remember to keep us students, our families, and our safety in your prayers this Spring semester!

Greg Sisco, Spring 2011

Duc In Altum