Trust in God: Mountains, Miracles, and Mud Pies

A blog post by Leanna Praetzel, Fall 2011 Semester 



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...

Right off the bat I was behind- It turns out the airline was handing out customs fast passes while I was busy singing The National Anthem 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.

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 completely 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!

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.

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.

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!

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.

The Advent Market & Semester End

A blog post by student Chelsea Graham, Fall 2011

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.

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 Krampus or Perchten. 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.

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.

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.

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!

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!

The Mystical Mediterranean

A blog post by Joe White, Fall 2011

            As stated previously, these posts will be a two part series. This is not Part Two but rather part two of Part One.[1]

            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.

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.[2] 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:

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:

Oof. TAKE ME BACK!

            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.

             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  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.

            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.[3] 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.

---

[1] Think how the Harry Potter movies were an 8 part series with the last being one part but having two segments.

[2] Malta itself has upwards of two-hundred and twenty.

[3] 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.

Adventures in Bruges & Aachen

A blog post by Joe White, Fall 2011

 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.

 

            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 In Bruges 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.

 

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:

Yes, each of those windows is one piece of glass.

            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!

 

 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[1] to get it back. But he retrieved it—just as he retrieved the famous Westwleterny 12.[2] 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 Pöchlarn 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!

---

[1] In his own words, “I could see the English Channel from the train station.”

[2] Nearly unanimously ranked as the world’s best beer

Looking Back on Ordinary Life at the Kartause

 A blog post by Joe White, Fall 2011

            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^th 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.

            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.

            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.

Swiss Army Knives Are Sharp!

A blog post by Leanna Praetzel, Fall 2011

 “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.

                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! 

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”.

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.

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.

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 was nervous about the cut, I was actually quite trusting that God would provide me with someone to help.

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.

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. 

Poem: Anything but Stationary

A poem by Leanna Praetzel, Fall 2011

Strike the sky

Blue

Ten people plus

You

Skip the ground

Ride the rail

Through the hills

Set the sail

Sperrys with a

Smile

Bench and chat

Awhile

Paint some purple

In the sky

Put some sparkle

In my eye

A world behind

Glass

Another train to

Pass

Whirlwind in this

Heart of mine

The sky is dark

So come and shine

In me

Mary's Fiat

A blog post by Chelsea Graham, Fall 2011

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!

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.  

Well, naturally, everything did not go as smoothly as we had hoped for.  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.  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.

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!

After spending our half an hour there and almost missing our train (we literally had to run to catch it)  I was sitting on the train really thinking about Mary’s fiat.

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.  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.   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!

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.

Luke 1:38, “Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word.”

Pope Kiss

Last 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!

A Language of Love: Lourdes (Part 2)

 A blog post by Leanna Praetzel, Fall 2011

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.  Cool! I thought; we’re going to be able to interpret tongues!  Not quite… 

 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.”

 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!)

 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.)

 Day 8:  Our last day at Lourdes?  Already?  I said my three Hail Mary 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—Maybe we can stay in Lourdes forever! 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.”

 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.”

 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.

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.

Adventures in the Holy Land

Over 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.

We could write for weeks, reflecting on our experience, but for now, a picture of our group is below.

Kartause Peace

A blog post by Chelsea Graham, Fall 2011

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!

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.

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.

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.

I’ll leave you with a quote from Matthew Kelley’s book, Rhythm of Life: “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.” 

Taking the Plunge: Lourdes (Part 1)

A blog post by Leanna Praetzel, Fall 2011

I wasn’t going to Lourdes.  And then I changed my mind.

The clock was winding down, and only a few hours remained before the application packet was due.  I still needed money, information, and paperwork, plus I had to hunt down the person in charge.  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.  Just like that.

Day 1:  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.  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.  But I knew that if God wanted us to get to Lourdes, we’d find a way.

And we did!  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!  My ticket was for a train leaving that evening… which meant, for the remainder of the day, Paris was calling!  I stayed with a buddy and together we climbed the Eiffel Tower!  We tackled those stairs, even with all of our luggage for the 10-day break.  I decided it would be very fitting to sing that song from Mulan (“Let’s get down to business…!”) to keep me motivated as well as keep things interesting.  It worked!  With a lively step and a lack of breath, we reached the “second floor” (about halfway up… but still very high)!  The view was beautiful, although, alas, we have no picture proof (both my camera and my iPod died, boo-hoo)!

Day 2:  Another overnight train later and I was in Lourdes!  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)!  Our leaders hadn’t arrived in town yet, so I didn’t discover the heart of Lourdes until…

Day 3:  International Mass in a giant underground Basilica?  What?  I thought there would be a couple helpers and some pilgrims at Lourdes!  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!  I got to go on the altar with other Frannies to lead the crowd in the “Our Father”.   It was amazing!

Later on in the day, we got assigned our stations for the week.  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!  I went from being a study-abroad student to being a privileged servant in Catholic Disneyland.  God picked me up from Gaming, set me down Lourdes, and plunged me right in.

Day 4:  Monday morning we went on a tour of different places St. Bernadette lived.  It was quite fantastic; I felt like I was walking in her shoes!  Then, I, along with nine other Franciscan girls, proceeded to the “Piscines” (the Baths) wearing our nurse-like outfits.  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.  Then, at 2:00pm, the curtain was opened and women of all different nationalities poured in.

The very first woman I helped left me in tears (although she probably didn’t know it).  The love in her face, the determination in her eyes…  All I could think about was the magnitude of her faith.  This woman had traveled the distance and gone through only Lord knows what to reach that moment in time.  And now she was there, humbly praying before Jesus and his Mother, while stepping into the icy water.  She was seemingly unaware of its bitter coldness, and even of the fact that I was still in the room.  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.  My first day serving in the baths and I was already full to the brim! 

That evening, my voice echoed throughout all of Lourdes as I was honored to introduce the First Luminous Mystery at the “Torchlight Procession.”  What a wonderful gift, and to see from a stage hundreds of candle flames poking through the night’s falling darkness!  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.

To be continued…

Dr. Eduard Hapsburg Speaks on Church Crisis in Austria

On the afternoon of October 27th, Dr. Eduard Hapsburg spoke with Franciscan University students about the crisis of faith in the church of Austria.

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:

- that many confirmation candidates in Austria are unable to recite the Our Father
- in this historic bastion of Catholicism, adoration and confession are in many places taboo
- that priests are lonely, hopeless, overburdened, overworked, and under-appreciated
- 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.
- that an overwhelming majority of Catholics are unable to explain the basic tenets of their faith, even those which work for the church.
- 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.

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.

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.

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.

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."  

A Fall Sunrise in Gaming

God's Angels

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.


Student Chelsea Graham, discusses some of her travels in the post below:

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.

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.

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.

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!

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!

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.

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.

Germany Travel Poem

A blog post by Leanna Praetzel, Fall 2011

Grüß Gott, my dear friends!

I’ve made you a rhyme

On traveling Europe

Alone our first time.

The first stop was Munich—

What madness, I say!

Oktoberfest?  Crazy!

We had a short stay.

Though dirndls and music

And dancing is great,

A castle was calling…

And I couldn’t wait!

To my great surprise

We hopped the right train.

(Déjà vu—all my worrying

Turned out in vain.)

We arrived at “Neuschwanstein”—

A magical view!

With towers and horses and

Hang gliders, too!

We made the hike up, and

Made friends on the way.

The tour was awesome!

What a wonderful day.

A great “Mozart Mass”

The next morning, and then,

We all shuffled off

To old Österreich again

We boarded the train,

Our weekend was done.

Of course we agreed that

We had lots of fun!