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On more than one occasion, I have discovered that sometimes people assume that because we share the same religion, we share the same understanding of what our religion requires of us. While most of the time this is the case, it is not universally true. Within our church there are differences with regard to the acceptability of the death penalty and our obligations to the poor and marginalized. And if you really want to see differences, just bring up the issue of immigration among a group of Catholics.
Now I believe it is important that we not gloss over our differences or pretend they don’t exist. It is equally important, though, that we don’t allow our differences to be a source of division and anger. In this regard, Jesus is a good model for us. In the Scriptures, we often see him disagreeing with people—particularly the Scribes and the Pharisees. For his part, though, he never let these disagreements become a source of bitterness or hostility. Sadly, the same thing cannot be said of the Scribes and the Pharisees. Most often they were very antagonistic to Jesus. What accounts for the difference between Jesus and the Scribes and the Pharisees? Well, clearly it helped that Jesus was divine. I think, though, that as important, Jesus most often had recourse to prayer when he encountered difference and disagreements.
In my life, I have discovered that prayer changes things—and the thing it changes most is me. When I have a difference or a disagreement with someone, and I take it to prayer, this often helps me to see things from a different perspective or to take into account new information. Now as I say this, I need to be clear. I don’t always take differences and disagreements to prayer. There are times when I want to hold on to my anger and resentment. There are other times when I take them to prayer, and my prayer is more a monologue about why God should see things my way. When I am able to honestly and humbly take things to prayer, though, it does make a difference.
Prayer can help us understand that while our differences and disagreements are real, they don’t have to be a source of anger and division. Rather, with Jesus as our model, and prayer as our weapon of choice, we can remain in contact with each other and engage in a dialogue that is frank, honest, and ongoing.
We may share the same religion, but that doesn’t mean that we necessarily share the same understanding of what that religion requires of us. This doesn’t have to separate us, though. Through prayer and respectful dialogue we can challenge each other to hear anew, and strive to live out the challenge of Jesus to love our neighbor as our self.
The plight of refugees is one that should strike a chord with us as Catholics and as Minnesotans. After all, as Catholics we should understand the hardships of exile and persecution, for Christ and the Holy Family were persecuted and exiled from Jerusalem.
Our state of Minnesota is home to over 70,000 refugees from across the world, and that number is growing every year. Just this year, 268 individuals have arrived in Minnesota. It may seem odd that Minneapolis, with its harsh winters, is a popular location for refugee resettlement, but its strong advocate organizations and extensive social benefits make our city a great place for starting a new life. In fact, the Phillips neighborhood in Minneapolis is the most diverse neighborhood in the United States, with over 100 ethnic groups represented.
However, the refugee community often remains fragmented from the greater Twin Cities community. Understanding the hardships of those who have faced persecution in other countries and have sought refuge in the Twin Cities strengthens the bonds of our diverse and thriving community.
A refugee is someone who has fled persecution in their home country for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group or political opinion, and because of that fear seeks refuge in another country. Refugees do not choose where they will be located; they are assigned to a city by the U.S. government. Minneapolis, however, is a popular destination for assignment because of its strong network of volunteer agencies that help with resettlement. For that reason, Minneapolis has the largest Somali community in the United States and the largest Hmong community outside of Laos. There are also large Ethiopian, Cambodian, Bhutanese, Liberian and Vietnamese communities here.
Such a diverse community helps make the Twin Cities a true proverbial melting pot of citizens. Unfortunately, families that have sought refuge in Minneapolis struggle with a host of issues in integrating into our community. Language is often a visceral and difficult obstacle. To make matters more difficult, the current economic climate makes it difficult to find jobs, especially because skills and degrees often do not transfer to the United States. A recent study found two Iraqi refugees in Ohio with engineering degrees that were sweeping floors.
The Twin Cities’ volunteer agencies work hard to make this transition easier. Local organizations connect refugees with English as a Second Language courses, set up social security applications, find and furnish housing, and help access medical care, among other efforts. But there are limits to funding and opportunities.
As Catholics in the Twin Cities, it is imperative that we understand the hardships of the refugees in our community and strive to lessen them. Volunteer agencies can work hard, but we are called as a Catholic community to continue to make the Twin Cities welcoming and integrated.
Luke Olson is a Basilica parishioner, choir member, and member of the Global Stewardship team. Luke graduated from the U of MN Law School, was recently married, and has joined the firm of Dorsey and Whitney in Minneapolis.
In this season of Thanksgiving, I find it easy to prioritize The Basilica community on my “thankful for” list. When people consider the “things” they are most grateful for, “things” rarely end up on the top of the list. Instead, it is health, family, faith, friends, and community.
I’ve heard time and time again of the gratitude felt for The Basilica community. Those most inclined to share this appreciation are the ones who have moved away, or find it no longer possible to be involved with The Basilica parish.
I’ve witnessed the sadness of those who have moved away as they search for a “Basilica” experience in a new city. It is possible to take for granted what is at your fingertips. I’m reminded of the special gift of The Basilica when I read the visitor comments from our guestbook, including:
- “Beautiful church, amazing worship”
- “As beautiful a church as any I’ve seen in Europe”
- “The parishioners were so very welcoming!”
- “Thank you for allowing us to visit and pray here! May God bless the parishioners.”
- “Thank you for opening the doors to such a blessed and calm, beautiful place,”
What we experience here isn’t easy to find, or replicate.
This unique Basilica experience is created by a diverse and rich depth of opportunities. From the grand, yet warm and inviting space we have to worship, to the way we roll up our sleeves as volunteers, to the service to our neighbors who need help—these are only a few things that make what we have here so unique and special.
When you think about your abundance and the joy you feel from the gifts you have received, how do you prioritize? What do your belongings mean to you?
Belonging to this parish is one of the greatest gifts I have received as an adult. This belonging is one of my greatest “belongings.” When I joined, I not only joined the parish, but I joined the Catholic faith. And it was a transformative experience. Today, this belonging has evolved into our “village” to raise our family. It provides a home for our faith and brings our faith home each Sunday.
To say I’m grateful would put it mildly. There is no value that can be placed on this community that gives so much, to so many people. When you give to The Basilica, you feed the lives and hearts of thousands of people who are inspired by the liturgies, connected through the social gatherings, and enlightened by the learning opportunities.
This “belonging” of thousands of members and visitors likely has an exponential impact in our broader community as we strive to live out stewardship in our every day.
When you support The Basilica financially, you give The Basilica vital funding for essentials like heat, lights, music, and ministries. But even more importantly, pledging gives us the opportunity to express our gratitude. If you haven’t yet made a commitment for 2015, I hope you will consider a pledge today. Pledge forms are available in the pews, or you can pledge online. Thank you for your consideration and for being a part of this community that gives so much.
As he lay dying of cancer, Pope John XXIII reportedly continuously whispered Jesus’ prayer: “May they all be one” (John 17:11). As a priest, diplomat, and finally as Pope, one of John XXIII’s aims was to reach across denominational barriers to re-establish the unity of God’s people. He once said: “Whenever I see a wall between Christians, I try to pull out a brick.” Along with Pope John Paul II, Pope John XXIII was canonized (named a saint) on April 27, 2014.
I think John XXIII’s words about removing bricks from the walls that separate Christians are perhaps more important now than when he first uttered them. In our world today, there is much that would/could separate Christians. Divisions exist on almost every moral issue, and there is ongoing debate about major issues in our Christian faith—the ordination of women being perhaps the most notable.
In addition to the differences that exist among Christians, it shouldn’t surprise anyone that differences also exist among Catholics. I don’t believe, though, that we should be alarmed or threatened by differences. Rather, I believe it is the divisions that arise from our differences that are the real source of shame and scandal. There is something wrong if we allow differences to turn into disputes and divisions.
In regard to the above, I want to be clear. Acceptance of others doesn’t mean we agree with them. Dialogue with others doesn’t mean that we abandon our principles, and respect for others doesn’t mean endorsement of their beliefs. To lack respect for the differing position of others is to be haughty, ignorant, or both.
Many years ago Dr. James P. Shannon was President of the then College of St. Thomas. He later became an auxiliary bishop in our Archdiocese and eventually left ministry. While President of St. Thomas, he wrote an essay in 1962 entitled: “The Tradition of Respectful Argument.” In that essay he wrote:
The ability to defend one’s own position with spirit and conviction, to evaluate accurately the conflicting opinions of others, and to retain one’s confidence in the ultimate power of truth to carry its own weights are necessary talents in any society, but especially so in our democratic culture.
There is some evidence that these virtues are in short supply in our land. The venerable tradition of respectful argumentation, based on evidence, conducted with courtesy and leading to greater exposition of truth is a precious part of our heritage in this land of freedom. It is the duty of educated men to understand, appreciate, and perpetuate this tradition.
If we can remember and put into practice the ideal of respectful argument, perhaps some day Pope John’s prayer: “May they all be one,” will become a reality.
There seems to be a children’s book to address most childhood behavior issues, which is helpful because life with a two-year-old is unpredictable, and sometimes you need a little outside help.
At Mass recently, our two-year- old daughter happened upon a few goldfish crackers left on the floor. As soon as she saw them she moved as quickly as possible and her little hands snatched them up just before I could get there. She proceeded to stuff them into her mouth and swallow. You don’t hesitate to eat off the ground when you are two. It was her own loaves and fishes miracle, right here at The Basilica.
You’ve probably heard the phrase, “Anything I needed to learn, I learned in Kindergarten.” I feel this common saying could be applied at The Basilica and interpreted as “Anything I hoped my children would learn, started at The Basilica.”
My family has had many loaves and fishes experiences in this community, and there is an abundance of great gifts because of the generosity shown here. Witnessing this generous behavior provides an abundance of learning opportunities.
- Even when my family is disruptive and our pew is messy, you smile. You welcome us—all of us—at our best and our worst. One of the first words my older daughter learned was “peace,” and it always warms my heart to hear her share it at Mass. It may have started with one word, but it means so much more. And she learned it from you.
- We sing together—young and old. Together, with the help of our choirs, we give thanks and praise in a beautiful, collective voice. My family sounds better at The Basilica than in the car.
- We face challenges together, united in what we love at The Basilica. Coming together with encouragement makes us stronger, our faith assured and our blessings multiplied.
- We live out financial stewardship with great generosity. In good economic times and bad, you give. One parishioner I met with recently illustrated this beautifully. He described his approach to giving—and that it wasn’t ever optional—and his desire always to give as much as he possibly can. He made a pledge last year, and even in a year as a freelancer without clients for several months, and as he planned a wedding, he stuck to his commitment to The Basilica. His generosity, and all the ways our community gives, is a shining example of a lifestyle of gratitude for the next generation.
- All the lessons I want my children to know in their hearts as adults are right here at The Basilica, in many forms. When the crying babies at Mass today are adults, I believe that the great enrichment they receive here, today, will provide a foundation for their internal moral compass.
I’m reminded of Fr. Michael O’Connell’s inspirational words: “Give generously and graciously from what God has so generously given you.” It is that simple, and that complicated, just as so many of life’s little lessons prove to be:
- Eat your food and be grateful that you have good food to eat.
- Greet each other with blessings of peace, and share that peace with each other.
- Sing your heart out.
- We are part of a faith tradition that has no end, and we are not on this journey alone.
- Giving generously gives happiness.
- And know that when you give, you are really giving to God.
This fall, as you consider the blessings in our parish, please consider a Financial Stewardship pledge for 2015. Your pledge of any size will have a powerful impact—in your own life and in the life of The Basilica community. Please watch for pledge forms in your mail and in the pews.
Thank you for your consideration and for being a part of this community that gives so much.
Walking through the streets of Paris last week I could not but notice the many signs of Halloween in the window displays. As I asked a friend about this she mentioned how important Halloween had become in Europe and she admitted to decorating her daycare center for Halloween as well. “The children love the carved pumpkins, the masks, the ghosts, and the candy,” she explained. Apparently there even is a Halloween parade in my hometown and children have taken up trick-or-treating. Not missing a beat I asked her what she was planning to do for All Saints and All Souls Day. She was a bit taken aback as she confessed that, in fact she had no plans.
The world, it seems has been turned upside down. Today, Halloween has clearly overshadowed All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day. Whereas, growing up in Belgium we did not even know about Halloween. Our undivided attention was given to celebrating All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day, two of my favorite days on the liturgical calendar..
On All Saints Day the entire family gathered at our parish church for a solemn liturgy celebrating all the Saints. Then it was off to my grandmother’s house for a day of festive leisure culminating is a sumptuous dinner. The highpoint of the afternoon was the simple play the children put together for the adults, illustrating the life of our favorite saints. My favorite Saints were the ones depicted with the child Jesus. So, I often played Saint Joseph, Saint Anthony and Saint Christopher, carrying the child Jesus (one of my cousin’s dolls) on my shoulders or in my arms, across the improvised stage.
All Souls Day was marked by a certain sober solemnity as we remembered all those who had died. After Mass we walked to the cemetery to place flowers on the tombs of our ancestors and to pray for them as well as for ourselves. The dinner that day was fine, but not nearly as festive as the day before. The stories around the dinner table were about the great or funny things our deceased ancestors did.
Thus these two days which are very intimately connected allowed us to tell the story of our beloved saints as well as the stories of our beloved ancestors while we looked at their portraits and paintings which were interspersed with images of the saints fastidiously collected by my grandmother. Though I did not realize it at the time celebrating these two feasts, the church and my family instilled in me that we are all part of the Body of Christ because all of us are one in Him, saint and sinner alike by virtue of our baptism.
As we rejoice in the Icons of the Saints placed in the Sanctuary this month, let us celebrate all the Saints, those who have gone before us, those who live among us and those yet to be born. As we write the names of our loved ones in the Book of Remembrance and place their photos on the side-altars let us celebrate their lives and remember that all of us are one. And as we celebrate Vespers for All Souls, let us pray that all of us may meet again before the Heavenly Throne at the end of time.
So, dare I ask? What are your plans for All Saints’ and All Soul’s Day?
Growing up in a small town, everyone knew each other. In church, school or life in general, everyone was involved or things simply didn’t happen. When I left after college, I found myself with a new job in a new town and made my way to the local Catholic Church for Mass. It was a large community—much bigger than I was used to. People rushed in and out on Sundays and I came and went too and never really connected. No one seemed to notice me. No one asked me to get involved. It felt strange to feel lonely in the midst of all those people at Mass. I didn't feel like I belonged.
As I’ve grown older, I realized that most often all you have to do is put your hand up and say ‘I'm interested’ or ‘I'd like to get involved.’ In most organizations, volunteers are desperately needed and you can find a place, and that’s definitely true here at The Basilica. But fresh out of college as a young adult, I was waiting to be asked.
At The Basilica, my sincere hope is that your experience is one of welcome and feeling a strong sense of belonging. For long-time parishioners, I hope we see our important role in welcoming newcomers, in greeting the strangers in our midst, and inviting others to get involved.
As parish members, it’s our job to make everyone, guests and members alike, feel welcome and part of our community. We can’t function as a healthy, welcoming community without your active involvement. We need you to come together regularly in prayer and worship. We need your help as ministers and parish leaders to serve others in our parish and our city. We need your ongoing financial support to sustain the work of our parish community.
Why do I feel at home at The Basilica of Saint Mary? In some ways, it’s very different than where I grew up. It’s such a large, impressive building, and it houses a huge parish community—about 6,500 households with over 12,000 people—our church is bigger than where I grew up.
But big as it is, The Basilica also feels warm and inviting. In my earliest days at The Basilica, I was asked to help with hospitality after Mass. Back then we brewed the coffee in the back of the church while mass was winding to a close. After Mass people hung around in church to visit and catch up. Next I was asked to help blow up helium balloons for an event. Small ways of getting involved, but each time I helped, I met people and got to know them. Soon I was seeing familiar friendly faces whenever I went to church. Being part of a group felt good to me. In small ways, I knew I was making a difference and preparing the way for others.
Belonging to a parish community, we are each asked to take part. That starts with coming together as a community for worship. It happens when we greet a stranger or welcome a new volunteer into ministry. It happens when we pray for the ill or grieving. It happens when we teach our children about their faith, when we sing or serve at Mass, mow the lawn, or shovel the snow.
It happens when we make a financial commitment to sustain our parish ministries and the day-to-day work of our church community. I hope you will join me and make a pledged financial commitment to support our ministries and the ongoing work of our parish in 2015.
When we come together as a community, we share common experiences like roots in our Catholic faith, and we share our differences too. When we worship and work side by side, we learn from each other’s journeys and experiences as we come together to live our faith every day.
Try as we might to prevent it, every now and again during one of our Masses someone will put leaflets or flyers on the windshields of cars in our parking lots. Now this hasn’t happened recently, but with elections around the corner, it wouldn’t surprise me if it did. I think two things need to be said in regard to these leaflets and flyers.
First, I am convinced that the people who leaflet cars during Mass do so out of a sense of commitment to their cause or candidate. From a certain perspective, this is commendable. It reminds us that we have the right to participate in the political process on all levels. The problem is that someone could infer that because the leafleting occurred on Basilica property, that The Basilica was endorsing a particular cause, or candidate for that cause. In this regard, we need to be clear. While The Basilica—like all Catholic Churches—has the right and the responsibility to commend and endorse positions on moral issues, it cannot, has not, and will not endorse a particular candidate for any political office at any level, even if that candidate espouses our values and moral principles.
Walking the line between clearly stating our moral principles and beliefs, and appearing to endorse a particular candidate, can be very difficult. On the one hand, our Church has a fundamental commitment to stand for justice. This commitment demands that the Church, as an institution, just like its individual members, must involve itself in fashioning and maintaining the common good. However, a distinction needs to be made as to how this is done. One way is to get involved in advocating for particular issues, e.g. respect for life, housing, jobs, economic issues. Another option is to support particular candidates or political parties. Individual Christians may do either or both. The Church as an institution may only do the first. The Church needs to remain apart from partisan politics in order that it can speak more clearly, freely and in an unbiased manner for fundamental moral values.
While I think we do a good job of this at The Basilica, we need to be honest that at times the Catholic Church in the United States has failed in this regard. At times we have all heard U.S. priests and bishops become so strident about an issue at election time that it seems they are endorsing a particular candidate or party. We need to remember, though, that for the Church, values are what is most important and what is at stake. Endorsing particular candidates or a particular party limits our Church’s ability to speak with authority to all the issues. The Church needs to refrain from partisan politics in order to speak more effectively and from the perspective of justice, to all the issues.
I’m hoping that no one leaflets any cars at The Basilica during this election season. But in case it happens, please know this was not done with our permission. If it does happen, though, may it spur all of us to participate in the electoral process and give witness to our beliefs and values by voting.
Every once in a while, you meet someone whose story has an extraordinary and immediate impact. I had the pleasure of such an experience when I met Bob Kleiber at a parish leadership gathering this spring. Bob is a member of The Basilica’s Finance Committee whose path to involvement and deeper stewardship is not typical.
In our visit, Bob openly shared the tragic story of losing his son, David, to suicide, as a result of mental illness. When he told me this story, something hit me in the gut and tore at my heart. As a parent, the thought of a broken bone is enough to make your stomach churn. The thought of burying a child is unfathomable. But through that loss and beyond his sadness, Bob found a deeper connection at The Basilica and with his faith. The value of community and of belonging increases greatly when you feel their support in a time of need.
As he shared today, and as you can likely sense, even through his grief Bob lives a life of gratitude. This gratitude has guided stewardship in his life.
He is an inspiration.
Sometimes, we all need a reminder about living a life of gratitude. Earlier this year, around the time I met Bob, I had a conversation with Fr. Michael O’Connell, former pastor at The Basilica. I had shared with him some of my challenges about how I was finding it to be difficult to juggle things. These “things” were family, children’s activities, my work, and other interests. It seemed I never had the time I really wanted to devote to each area of my life, which is a well-known theme for many working parents.
When I started this conversation, I was counting on a clear direction of how I might make some adjustments and priorities could become clear. That didn’t happen.
Instead, I heard the one word that needed to be said: Gratitude.
I didn’t love to hear it at first. Amidst my tension and personal stress, I had forgotten to look at these “things” in my life as the blessings of my life. And they are. God has given me more than I recognize and certainly more than I sometimes deserve.
I love all of it. Perhaps too much. I have a job that not only feeds my family, but feeds my heart and soul. I have a loving family. I have a faith that is constantly forming, on a journey where I’m supported at The Basilica.
Focusing on gratitude—and in Fr. Michael’s words, “Giving gratefully and graciously gives back what God has so generously given to us”—can change you.
The shift changed not only my heart, but it seemed to change my daily life. When you change your mind, the tone of each day is different.
I hope you will consider your own gratitude when you consider supporting The Basilica this fall. Please consider a pledged commitment for 2015. Pledge forms are available in the pews, or you can pledge online. Thank you for your consideration and know we are grateful for your generosity.
In a very simple way, fall is a time of renewal. Renewed schedules, renewed commitments, renewed faith. Perhaps it is the lifelong routine of “back to school,” and preparing for class with new books, shoes, and backpacks. It brings a new routine, new friends, and teachers. It is a time of change, bringing with it a routine that is predictable and reliable.
This year especially, my family’s renewal was very welcomed after our summer fell into a period of August chaos. In my naivety, I planned our month to be “free-flowing,” without care, and a chance to embrace those dog days of summer. I envisioned days at the beach, impromptu ice cream shop visits, and blissful afternoons at the park. While we did enjoy some of this planned yet unscripted fun, the untold stories in our household looked more like toddler tantrums and childhood meltdowns.
We were out of town many weekends, and fell out of our typical weekend routine, including Sunday morning Mass at The Basilica. Upon reflection, it occurred to me that part of what we missed in our schedule was the routine of church, knowing that we would be at the same place at the same time each Sunday at 9:30 (or sometimes at 9:35…).
While I am aware we all have times of chaos, making a commitment to our faith in those times might ease our angst. This might include attending Mass, but also our prayer lives and community service. I have found that we receive so much when we prioritize our faith in our routine.
Fall is a beautiful time to consider our commitments. It’s a beautiful time for renewal; a time to be intentional with our gifts and our resources. Our Basilica Stewardship volunteers once outlined a way to incorporate financial stewardship into our lives. They suggested to:
- Give intentionally by developing a plan and then following through with it
- Give regularly by establishing a pattern
- Give generously by recognizing we will have enough because God provides for us
- Give first by sharing our first fruits and then living off the rest
- Give proportionally based on the blessings we have received
- Give cheerfully by recognizing the benefits our offerings provide the parish
I remember the drudgery of my parents as they convinced four children to “get to the car!” so we could get to church on time. Every Sunday, it was the same argument and the same lead feet pounding into the balcony ten minutes after the service began. So far, our girls have the gift of a church that is a highlight of the weekend! We are so blessed to have this place that is a “favorite” in all of our routines. And it is missed greatly when we’re absent.
This fall, I hope you will not only make The Basilica a part of your schedule, but we ask that you will also make giving of your resources part of your routine. It is your presence and support that continue to build this great community.