Adventures (Installement II)

-or- Old Fashion Blessings

Two weeks ago we completed our final class trip of the semester. The last day of this Northern Italian trip found us in Venice. Venice is a strange place, as in it has no roads, only one proper piazza (incredible for an Italian town), is intensely ornate, and that whole its built on a marsh thing. (I've wondered both times I've been in Venice whoever thought that was a good idea?) After going along on a site tour in the morning I decided to hitch along with Sister Catherine, Peter and Sara to go see two other islands in the lagoon.

What we found was totally beyond anything I'd been expecting. Venice is busy and crowded, all buildings and canals. Burano, the first island we stopped at had a significant amount of open land and hardly any tourists due in part to its distance from Venice proper (about a 45 min boat ride) and the weather (overcast and a little drizzly). The island was composed mostly of two story houses which were unexceptional apart from an apparently unwritten rule that your house had to be a different color than anyone else's house on the island. The effect was wonderful even on a gray day. We set about finding lunch and ended up at the "Bar Sport". It was an unassuming little place (the best in Italy normally are) but had some fantastic sea food. I've found myself become more adventures with cuisine over the course of the semester as this Spaghetti alla Vongole attests. (It was incredible by the way).

The trip to Burano was also really helpful in understanding the history of Venice. On the main island its hard to understand what exactly the city was built on. It can give you the impression that it was started by a bunch of crazy people who just started driving piles into the ground and building their houses on them. However, farther out in the lagoon you see lots of islands, large and small, coming far enough out of the water to support vegetation and even trees.

Near Burano was one of these largely unsettled islands named Torcello. Sister Catherine's guidebook provided the history of the island. Basically, Torcello was the place before Venice became the place. A roman settlement existed on the island all the way back to the 6th Century. However, as Venice grew in power and influence, starting around the end of the first millennium, Torcello declined. Until about 50 years ago the island was largely uninhabitable due to malaria. The original settlement has been almost entirely reclaimed by the marsh, with a few exceptions. The most impressive and astonishing is a 7th Century Basilica, Santa Maria Assunta. The first impression is its size, which is remarkable for its age and with the back drop of a now largely unpopulated island. The most incredible remnant of this once powerful settlement however, is on the inside of the Church. The entire rear wall of the basilica is covered by an 11th Century mosaic in the Ravena-Byzantine style. And it is SO awesome!  

Its one of those rare pieces of art (or in this case a piece of art and prayer) that you can just sit and devour like a good meal. And like a good meal there's a satisfaction when you finish that is hard to describe in any other way. The four of us sat and looked at it for at least 30 minutes, and we all had the feeling that we could have stayed there much longer. The mosaic is not only really large, really old, and really well done but also it had some intriguing iconography that I'd never seen before. The mosaic works in three movements. At the very top, almost out of view in this picture, is the crucifixion. The next series down is the resurrection. The final four layers are the last judgement, the End Times. In most mosaics the figures are very static, there's no depth or scaling. However, on this one the figures got larger as you went up the mosaic ensuring that they would still be easily visible from the floor.

Christ in glory, with His throne prepared below

The Angels calling up the dead (check out the lion's mouth)

Among the interesting representations in this mosaic was the calling up of the dead. While this is an indispensable part of any last judgement scene this mosaic gave it a special twist. The angels not only called up the dead from their graves but also from the bellies of wild animals. While plenty of mosaics show animals eating saints this is the first time I've ever seen an animal throwing up a saint. Another interesting depiction was Eve. She showed up in both in the Resurrection, being pulled out of Hell along with Adam, and also in the Last Judgement. You can see her in the picture of Christ in glory. She's just to the right of the throne. If her dress reminds you a standard mosaic figure it should. She's dressed in a way typically reserved for Mary, the Mother of God which reveals the classic Old Testament prefigurement and Catholic teaching that Mary is the New Eve.

Bottom left scene of the mosaic

My favorite part of the mosaic though, was the scene on very bottom left. While the mosaic had worked chronologically top to bottom to this point, the bottom left frame breaks with this order. Instead, this scene, which is the closest and most approachable to the viewer, has four main images. Just out of this picture is Christ calling the children to himself (you can see a few of them next to Mary). Next is the Blessed Mother in the traditional posture of prayer, interceding for us, the viewers. To her left is the Good Thief and finally the next to him is the Door of Paradise with the Seraph and St. Peter, keys in hand gesturing to us to come in. In my experience I've never seen a mosaic that engages the viewer so actively. What a beautiful invitation! We are called in our humility reminded of Jesus' love for the small and the meek. We are reminded of the powerful intercession of Mary our Mother, and of all the saints. We're encouraged by the example of the Repentant Theif, who even at the 11th hour received the grace of conversion and forgiveness and, after his brief labors, was with Jesus that day in Paradise. Finally, we come to the representation of the entrance to Paradise. The seraph who guards the gate no longer wields the flaming sword that banished Adam and Eve but rather he welcomes, just as St. Peter stands prepared with the keys to usher us in to the space prepared for us from all eternity. This door is not in the heights, not even among the saints in the middle of the series, but at the very, very lowest point so close and so attainable through God's unsurpassable mercy.

After a long while, we managed to tear ourselves away and explore the rest of the church. I really liked the simplicity of this mosaic which was in the apse of the church behind the main altar. There is nothing to distract from Mary and Jesus. The importance of the Church and the island was also attested to by the bodies of several martyrs who still reside there. At a certain point we realized that the door keeper had been standing waiting for us to leave for a while, we'd been almost the only people in the church the entire time. Turns out we'd lost track of time a bit and as Sister Catherine led us out of the basilica I wonder if she though the Last Judgement was actually upon us. We were met with an entirely red sky, the first movement of an incredible sunset. As we walked down the path back to the boat stop the sky was aflame with shades of red and purple. What had been a dreary, overcast day when we entered the church, had been transformed into a glorious conclusion. As we stood waiting for the boat our view looked every part a painting, too incredible to be real.

What made the whole experience all the more stunning was that we'd stumbled upon this beautiful church and incredible sunset literally in the middle of nowhere but yet just miles from Venice, one of the most touristy, overrun parts of Italy. The solitude reminded me of going out to St. Joe Ost, or Pilsen but then finding an ancient, world class mosaic of a lost society hanging on the back wall. Oh and tack on an indescribable sunset to boot.


Blessed be God
Blessed be His holy name
...
Blessed be God in the quiet places
Blessed be God in the forgotten wonders
Blessed be God in the fire of the sunset
...
Blessed be Jesus Christ, true God and true man
Blessed be the great Mother of God, Mary most holy
Blessed be God in His angels and in His saints
                                                                       Amen.


See you in the Eucharist,
Tony

Adventures (Installment I)

I'm realizing that I've already procrastinated so much on posting about the things I've seen and done in the last two months that I'm am hopelessly behind. The task of writing about even a portion of the experiences I've had living and working in Italy so far was daunting enough to even keep from trying for many weeks (in which time I spent a weekend in Padau, and 10 days in Greece, Fall Break, and Northern Italy. oops.)  Anyway the end of the semester is rapidly approaching and I've got to get a move on here hence the idea of which this blog post is hopefully the first part of. Instead of making one humongous post which you would be make-you-tired-of sitting-before-you-got-done-reading long I decided to do it in small bite size morsels.

A long time ago (almost 2 months?) I went to Padua over a weekend. Besides being the resting place of one of the most awesome saints ever (This Guy) -->    its also a really nice little town. Its home to one of the oldest universities in the world and as such is dominated by bicycles and young people. A couple of the main roads are closed to traffic and are just pedestrian. I went there to see St. Anthony and obviously spent a good deal of time at the Basilica. They didn't allow any photography in the church so sorry no pictures of St. Anthony's tongue (yeah its in the reliquary) however it was also nice not to have to worry about trying to take pictures of things and instead just enjoy the moment. There was a special blessing of St. Anthony that I was able to receive, I went to a couple masses in the Church, and spent a lot of time praying and writing in front of the Blessed Sacrament. Sunday mass at the Basilica was especially great. It's a large church but it was filled with faithful there to see St. Anthony (he's such a big deal in Padua they just call him "Il Santo", "The Saint"). Sadly its rare to see any of these old marvelous Italian churches full and alive for the liturgy but when it happens its a special blessing and it seems this happens every weekend in Padua.

Basilica of St. Anthony

Scrovegni Chapel

The town itself was really wonderful though too. There were several concerts going on in different piazzas in the evenings. Saturday there were two huge markets one for fruits and the other for vegetables. Padua also has one of the largest piazzas in Europe the Prato della Valle. There is also an incredible work of art called the Scrovegni Chapel by Giotto. Its a small family chapel that is all that remains of the Scrovegni palace. Giotto was one of the earliest Renaissance fresco masters and this chapel is by far his most impressive surviving work. Its incredible not only for its colors (amazingly vibrant), and its age (its over 800 years old), but also because of the theological framework that its designed around. The intricately detailed figures are organized into three cycles. The topmost is the life of Mary, the middle is the active ministry of Christ, and the lowest is His Passion and Death. The way Giotto parallels the scenes from each three of the cycles is truly remarkable and cause for much longer consideration than the 15 minute time period you are allowed to visit the chapel for.

Recognize this guy? Its there too.

After I visited the Chapel on Saturday
I went and walked through a nearby park to think about the fresco. In one of the most fantastic scenes of Italian life that I've encountered yet, I ran into five members of the "Guardian Angel Safety Patrol" moving a baby grand piano down a gravel path, with steps, to the central fountain of this park. Clad with red berets and beer guts (should it be called a wine gut in Italy? Not sure on that) these balding men finally managed to get the piano moved at which point another Italian sat down and began to play incredible music. It was such a picturesque scene. It was a beautiful, sunny, late-summer day. The perfect day to just sit on a park bench and think (with a soundtrack to boot). Kids were playing in the park, a young woman was making animals out of balloons (apparently for free) and at one point a group of people walked by being led by a man carrying a 10 foot rowing oar (no idea what that was about).  Looking back now a couple months later it really was a very blest weekend: kind people, an awesome saint, fantastic art, beautiful nature; what more could you ask for?

Well that feels good to have finally finished a post, hopefully another will follow shortly but until then, I'll see you in the Eucharist.

To a Saint

Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon her. May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

JMJ+OBT

I was in mass when she passed away. I didn't hear the news for several more hours that my Grandma Butel had died. Her health had been steadily declining for the last several months between a heart condition and pulmonary fibrosis. Our family knew she didn't have much longer here but we weren't expecting it quite so soon. She went to the hospital on Tuesday night and my mom was able to go up and spend Wednesday night with her and another of her sisters. When mom left in the morning she told grandma that she loved her and grandma told mom that she loved her too. She passed away at 11:30am Kansas time. The oldest in the family Aunt Mary was there by her side during her last minutes. She said about seven minutes before grandma died her breathing changed and they knew she was going. About a minute before she died, my aunt said she opened her eyes wide and stared at the ceiling and her last word was "Mom."

I don't know what Grandma saw as she was dying but I know what kind of woman she was and that gives me every reason to believe that some members of the Church Triumphant could have come to take her home. She was everything you would think of when you think of a grandmother: kind, gentle, loving, maternal. She was a small beautiful old lady, with snow white curly hair. She could have easily been a bitter old woman. Her life had given her every excuse to be so. But for all the difficulty involved in raising 13 children on a poor Eastern Kansas dairy farm she had one of the most beautiful souls of anyone I have ever known. I think it was her faith that gave her the strength to be the person she was. She went to mass regularly and made her weekly adoration hour even up to week that she died. When she was in the hospital the first night one of my aunts was reading to her out of a book that she sometimes read before she went to bed. The passage was about how we are to be Christ to others. My aunt told her that was what she had been to all those around her and she responded, "That's what I was supposed to do."

I have lots of fond memories of Grandma like her apple crisp warm out of the oven covered in quickly melting homemade ice cream. Or coming back from Saturday night mass and having frozen pizzas (they never tasted quite as good anywhere else). Or playing seven point pitch with her and my little sister and my uncle. Or the last conversation I had with her in her kitchen before leaving for Rome when she told me how proud she was of all her grandchildren going off and doing things she never would have dreamed of when she was our age. Or the birthday cards we would get from her. We couldn't read her handwriting so mom would translate for us. There was never very much money with the cards and Christmas presents weren't extravagant (I don't know how they managed to do what they did with so many grandkids) but I'll always remember that at some point in the letter she would tell us we were in her prayers.

My memories of Grandma aren't "big" memories but I think that's because that's not the kind of person she was. She left her mark on the world not in big notable ways but rather in the little ways she showed all of us her love, in the quiet sacrifices she made for her kids and grandkids. The family that she raised and the times we spent with them will always be my most lasting memory of grandma. She was a simple woman, from a very simple background. She, along with my other grandparents left me an inheritance more lasting than any material gift. They left me their example, one of lives given to their families and neighbors through good, honest work; an example of simplicity, piety, and charity.

I hope my title was not too bold. I'm not sure that its completely theologically correct but if there is anyone I have know personally in my short life that deserves the title of saint it is her. I also want to say this because I like to think that in a small way I was able to be with her as she entered the eternal wedding feast. I didn't realize it until many hours later when I was able to talk to my mom but when grandma passed away at 11:30am in Kansas that was 6:30pm Rome time. On Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursday we have mass on campus that starts at 6pm. On Thursday we had a new priest who asked for intentions during the prayers of the faithful. It was the first time since I've been in Italy that I've been able to include Grandma in the intentions for the mass and as I prayed, "For my Grandma Butel as her health is declining" little did I know that, that she was literally in the last moments of her life. The consecration for the mass and the subsequent reception of communion would have been immediately as she was passing away. It adds new significance to one of my favorite phrases, "See you in the Eucharist."

May the perpetual Light shine upon her. Amen.

Accountability

Peace and Blessings from Rome!
This blog post is brought to you by the persistent nagging of a dear friend in Christ.

On returning to Rome I knew I wanted to do a better job blogging about the adventure God is taking me on. Towards that end I asked one of my friends if we could hold each other accountable for posting on a regular basis (thus far the accountability has been entirely one sided. lol) While I recognized the need for accountability in this area of my life, I spent almost the entire first month in Italy without acknowledging that I need accountability in my spiritual life too. You would think that being in Rome would be an excellent catalyst to prayer (and it is) but in the first month I struggled to maintain a regular prayer life, to grow in virtue, to avoid sin, etc. My co-workers over here are wonderful people; talented, thoughtful, funny people. They are fun to be around whether at work or just hanging out, however they don't seem to have much interest in living an active spiritual life. That was a real issue for me. This first month I vividly encountered my weakness when alone in living my faith. Not that I was alone (I know there are many, many people praying for me, and that I'm never separated from the Mystical Body of Christ in the Eucharist) but that I was the only one, of the few of us on campus in the first weeks, who desired a spiritual life. Let me tell you, I wasn't cuttin' it on my own. Its funny that another word that sounds similar to accountability is humility. Eventually I had to humble myself and realize that despite the incredible blessings that I am being given and the astounding setting I am in, I am not strong enough to grow in holiness without much help. I got in touch with two brothers in Christ who have held me accountable in the past and set up some email accountability. Even though we are not able to meet in person to pray or discuss our weeks, this partnership is critical for me. "As iron sharpens iron, so man sharpens his fellow man" Proverbs 27:17.

 The arrival of the students also meant the beginning of daily mass on campus which even in this first week has been a tremendous blessing. While this first month may not have been as strong as I would have hoped it did facilitate several important realizations which I hope lay the foundation for a year of growth and great charity. Hopefully soon I'll get another post up with some of the adventures from the first month (especially judging by the persistence of my accountability partner. lol) Until then check out a couple of the incredible views I've had so far:

Assisi

                         Lake Albano from Monte Cavo

                                                                                                     

                                                                                            Fransican Monastery of Assisi    

View from the Belvedere above my room

Know that y'all are in my prayers ( especially now that my prayers are more frequent and consistent). I'll see you in the Eucharist!

Communion

Glory to be to God the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning is now and will be forever. Amen.

After the amazing blessings of the last eight days I am compelled to revisit my blog and share these graces with you. Last Sunday I left St. Thomas Aquinas as one of two chaperones for eight beautiful young women as we departed for a week of Prayer and Action in South Hutch. The week was one of untold and innumerable blessings. One of the most striking though came Thursday night during the retreat portion of the half mission trip, half retreat day. During praise and worship I was pulling a David Walker and praying clutching my TEC cross in my hand. We were singing Empty Me and at the part where the lyrics are "empty me, empty me, Fill won't you fill me with more of you and less of me" I opened my hand which had been clinging to the TEC cross. I realized in that moment that God was calling me to surrender that community to Him, this Framily that I've become a part of. For me this was even more difficult than the invitation I received the previous night in adoration to surrender myself more fully to His will. Its was one thing to desire that He should increase in my life and I should decrease but the full implication hit me on Thursday when I realized this meant being willing to give up these wonderful brothers and sisters in Christ that I have come to cherish so much. I don't know whether God intends to keep them only for a time before giving them back or whether it is more permanent but I know that my hands need to be empty to go where He has called me in Rome.

It struck me in a new way though on Wednesday night in adoration why separation is so difficult. As humans created in God's image we are made for communion, first of all with Him but also through Him all men. Thus when we form holy friendships centered in Christ we share a part of ourselves with the other and form a kind of unity. When we are separated we keenly sense how unnatural this is. But I'm reassured by the knowledge that communion is also our telos, our end if you will. Heaven will be the eternal communion; separation, a result of the fall, will be no more. However, even in the this mortal life though we are offered the opportunity to have a taste of this eternal union in the Holy Sacrament of the Altar, the Eucharist. Christ truly present in the appearance of bread and wine offers us His whole self. This communion with Christ is also a communion with the entire body of the Church, both those still on earth and those in heaven, thus the logic behind one of my favorite sayings, "See you in the Eucharist."

In the face of my nearing departure for Rome and the invitation to give these brothers and sisters in Christ back to God I have been blessed in the last few weeks to meet so many new framily members. This makes the sense of separation more painful but also all the more sweet. At this point I give them to our Momma Mary. May she keep all of you in her mantle and until, in God's time, we meet again. Until then, See you in the Eucharist.

Philosophy of Dance

Before I start I just want to give God props for making Fridays. They're great. lol

That taken care of I want to share my philosophy on dancing with y'all. I can't take the credit for this philosophy though, it comes mainly from my high school Chaplin Fr. Jarrod, who was one of the folks responsible for teaching me how to dance. Since the last couple years of high school I've been blessed to have amazing friends in both Kansas and Texas to go dancing with. We started out mostly country swing dancing but as I've gotten older I'm to the point where I mostly two step now, its just a lot less work. lol. My education in dancing began sometime during my freshman year of high school at a wedding. My Mom pulled me out on the dance floor at the reception and said, "Anthony, I'm gonna teach you how dance because girls like guys that can dance." Thank you Mom. That raises the question though, what is it about men that can dance that women like? Stasi Elridge says in Captivating that every little girl goes through a twirly skirt phase and I think maybe every women still has a little bit of that little girl left in them. Ultimately the twirly skirt makes them feel beautiful, a princess, and I don't think that's a desire that disappears from women's hearts as they grow up.

Fr. Jarrod would say that the role of men and women on the dance floor flows from who God created them to be. To jump back a bit I think it's important to start with Genesis. For 5 days God is creating all kinds of things, light and darkness, sun and moon, trees and fishies and at the end of every day God proclaims that what he has just created is good. Then He gets to the sixth day and fashions a creature in His own image and likeness giving him dominion over all the rest of creation but after God finishes man and places him in the Garden of Eden He, for the first time, proclaims that it is not good, not good for man to be alone. And so God fashions a partner for Adam, Eve flesh of his flesh, bone of his bone and after giving them to each other God proclaims that it is very good and takes His rest on the 7th day. Eve is the crown jewel of creation. Without her something is missing, incomplete but with her it is very good. Though some time has passed since then, I don't think all that much has changed really. Rightly understood women are still the crown jewel of creation. While men may be strong and protective, reflecting God's strength and guardianship, women are beautiful. They make manifest in the most powerful way the great goodness of God's beauty. While it takes both men and women to manifest God's true image, we have different, complementary roles.

These roles translate directly onto the dance floor. The man's job when dancing is to make manifest the woman's beauty, not only to everyone else in the room but also to herself. The man's whole attention should be given to making her look and feel as she truly is, the crown jewel of creation. It always disappoints me when I'm out dancing and see some big macho guy throwing a girl all over the place. The point of any dance move shouldn't be for the guy to show off how big or buff or skilled he is but rather to make the woman look beautiful. Its also tough when you dance with a woman that won't let the man lead because ultimately she prevents the man from being able to fulfill his role of manifesting her beauty. Fr. Jarrod summarized this all by saying that on the dance floor the man's job was to make sure every eye on the room was on his partner, and the woman's job was to make sure that his eyes were only on her.

So men I call you to rise to the challenge and live out the role God has created you for. We live in a society in which our sisters are constantly under attack, bombarded with the lies that they are not beautiful, that they have to do this thing or dress that way if anyone will ever notice them. While I know there are other ways that we as men can help women overcome these lies, dancing is one of the best methods I've found. So next time you're out and you hear a fiddle and guitar pluck up some courage and ask a girl to dance; as a wise woman once told me "girls like guys that can dance." God bless and if you need some pointers catch me next time we meet. Until then though, see you in the Eucharist!

My Stock-tank Overfloweth

or "I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly. John 10:10"

or "You are the light of the world. Mt 5:14"


In typical procrastinator fashion I missed my two week goal, apologies, and its taken me almost a week to get on here and relate the immense blessings that God poured out last weekend. It seems strange to think that Crusader Awakening 4 is over. A significant portion of my semester has been spent preparing for the retreat. In fact, preparations began almost a year ago. I've been on a lot of retreats but this was maybe one of the craziest weekends ever. It started with a call from the head of the Human Resources Office at UD. About 30 minutes before we left for retreat, I got a call offering me the Rome Assistant position for next year. To put this in perspective for those outside the UD bubble this is basically like winning the lottery. Most years they have around 40 applicants, they interview 4, and take one. I was thrilled just to get an interview early last week but I could hardly believe what I was hearing over the phone when she told me that I had been selected. Blessed be God. There are no other words to describe it.

This was also an interesting way to start a retreat. After I stopped shaking, I helped load up and we headed out. Needless to say the joy thing wasn't an issue for me on the weekend. The fact that we'd even made it to the retreat was something of a minor miracle too though. There were points in the week before were I couldn't see how we were going to get all the logistics taken care of but I was never really that worried about it. I knew that through the Holy Spirit we'd somehow get it all done, if for no other reason than that we'd requested prayers from over 900 convents and monasteries all over the world during the fall semester. The Holy Spirit didn't disappoint.

The retreat itself was a beautiful experience. I don't think there could have been a better way to end my Crusader Awakening career. The staff I had the privilege of helping lead along with my awesome co-director Clare was incredible. About half were from UD and half were from other Awakening communities. It was such a blessing to be in a position to see how they all brought their various skills and talents and poured them out for the retreatants, how they loved them with everything they had. To see one young woman fight through her fears and master a leading role in a skit. To see one of the young men swallow his pride and lead us in a praise and worship session that could best be described as joyful noise because their was no one else who could do any better. To see another young man pour everything he had into a role in the skit showing the retreatants just how much their Savior loved them. To see all the manifold blessings that God had brought to this retreat in the love that these staffers bore for candidates, many of whom they'd never met was simply amazing.

Finally though, for me personally one of the most beautiful parts of the retreat had to do with a prayer I'd prayed the week before. Coming back from Spring break I'd been struggling with a lack of motivation and a few habitual shortcomings. I became really frustrated with myself because I knew my sloth and laziness were preventing me from being able to give myself for the retreatants by doing a good job preparing logistically and spiritually for the retreat. In my frustration, mired in sin, I remember praying to God, "I just want to live." To live as the person I was truly meant to be, zealously, intentionally, full of charity. In the busyness of the preparations that followed I forgot that prayer until late Saturday night. After I'd finished my tasks for the day, I went to the adoration chapel and stopped moving for maybe the first time that day. As I prayed, I realized that God had answered that prayer. I had been so alive that whole weekend, constantly doing my utmost to carry out God's will and show His love to the retreatants, taking no consideration of myself. I couldn't ask for a more beautiful gift. He came that we might have life and have it to the full.

As this week has passed I've thought more about that experience of being fully alive and I'm comforted to realize that its not something that requires a life changing phone call from and HR office or an awesome Spirit filled retreat. Doubtless it is nothing but a grace of God, but its also a grace that He holds out to us everyday if we strive to live as the men and women He created us to be. As St.Catherine of Sienna said, "If you are what you should be, you will set the whole world on fire." That's our calling as Christians. As the theme from CA4 reminds us "You are the light of the world. A city set on a mountain cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and then put it under a bushel basket; it is set on a lampstand, where it gives light to all in the house. Just so, your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father."

So thank you to all of you who made the last weekend possible. To my awesome co-director Clare, to the whole staff and all of Campus Ministry. To the Rome staff who have given me an incredible opportunity. To my parents, 4-H leaders, and supervisors in the Admissions Office, who, among so many others, helped me develop the skills and talents required to be where I am now. And most of all thanks be to God from whom these blessings and all other good things come!

So, I know where I'm heading now (Rome), quo vadis, where are you going?