Hello all!

Just wanted to let you know that I’m flying to South Dakota today and won’t be back for a few more. I’m interviewing at a high school I may be sent to teach at for the next three years. Until I get back, know that I’m praying for tons of you!

 

-Jacob

I believe, at least since 2003, I have composed and consequently posted a poem on my blog specifically for the women of Xanga. I know that there are many out there who haven’t a Valentine on this day and while it doesn’t both some, for others it is a very difficult day. While a poem from some stranger out in cyberspace likely fails to completely negate that, please know that I offer this poem to remind each and every person on Xanga of one thing: that in spite of anything, you are loved. God bless all of you this day. Recommend this little post to those you encounter on Xanga that need that reminder today, for if you are a human being and you are alive, you are loved in a way that you will never understand in this lifetime; I offer but a minuscule drop of that love here.

-Jacob

 

For the Women of Xanga on St. Valentine’s Day, 2011

 

Ah! the spurnéd Lover’s sigh

that echoed down a gale

and hurried on His heart’s delight

through death’s new-riven vale.

 

Yea they hurried on and on,

anon, so soon to pass

came dusk where was meant a dawn;

wholeness, shattered glass.

 

His ever-eye yet beheld

a scintillating sight—

love’s spark still in each did dwell;

made He His lover’s plight.

 

Hurried He, a Fiery Gale,

to don a veil of flesh

that His love He might unveil;

Lover, love—now enmeshed.

 

Yet asunder Him we tore,

Death’s vale we forced Him march.

The Cross of Love He then bore;

our pride’s triumphal arch.

 

Yea He walked that lonely mile

and died as any man

amid our filth, scorn and bile

with piercéd foot and hand.

 

Yet so taken, so Love’s slave

was He, for us—for us!—

we didn’t take, He freely gave;

beloved, Lover, ‘gain do touch.

 

Now hand in hand we do depart

into the vale spear-wrought,

down into the depths of His heart,

the home we’ve e’er long sought.

 

(My sister and I when I was three and she was two, I think!)

 

I have a brother here whose sister is a philosophy professor somewhere out there in College Land. She has made it a point to ask each of her children when they are about seven or eight the following question: How do you know that you exist?

Can you imagine? This brother of mine shared with us the answers that each of her children gave when they were asked.

Her first child, a daughter, answered, “Because other people can see me.” Isn’t that so clever? To know at that age the importance of our own existence being affirmed and confirmed by others in our life?

Her second child, a son, answered, “Because I can move stuff around.” Clever again! He knows that his existence impacts the world around him; a very manly answer I would say. 

But her third child, another daughter, I think gave the wisest and most profound answer of all. Remember this is all true; he told this to us at dinner just a couple of nights ago.

Her third child, in response to the question, answered, “I know I exist because God loves me.”

 

Wow.

I encountered a young man this weekend who told a group of us how he came to be Catholic. 

We were all gathered to hear a couple of young religious sisters talk about the importance of religious life in the Church and the responsibility they have in providing a witness for the Gospel life. When it came time to offer responses to the presentation, the young man began to speak.

He said that he had grown up Methodist and considered himself to be a pretty good Christian. Then he attended a very secular university and after a few months noticed that something seemed to be missing from his life. After thinking about it he realized that there was no room and no place in his life for his faith, so he made room and began attending a Methodist church every Sunday. Months passed by and his heart was growing in love for Christ and he wanted more, but wherever he went they only had worship on Sunday. Then he heard that most Catholic churches offer daily Mass, and he wished that other denominations offered daily worship. So, to try and provide daily nourishment for his soul he turned to studying and praying with the Scripture, and as he learned more and more about the Gospel and the way of life it offers he began to notice the people who gave up everything to follow Christ–possessions, families, marriage; everything to follow Him. He took a hard look at his church and asked, “Where are those people? Why isn’t there anyone giving up everything to follow Christ?”

Around that time he began noticing various religious around St. Louis (we are nicknamed “The Rome of the West” for a reason!) and his curiosity was piqued.

As he learned more about these people he realized that they were the ones he’d been looking for. He had found a Church in which there were people who gave up everything to follow Christ and to serve Him. 

He then told us that it was this that convinced him of where he needed to be in order to be faithful to Christ. He had no theological or historical hurdles to overcome, he just said yes to where Christ was leading him and went headlong. Can you imagine the gift of faith that this young man had, to cast aside any past doubts or questions regarding the Catholic Church that he picked up throughout his life as a Methodist, being so convinced by the witness of the Church’s consecrated religious? It completely blew me away!

He was received into full communion last Easter. Praise God!