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Emilia’s baptism took place last weekend at our church. Our regular priest was sick, so Deacon Eric Duggan performed the baptism. It was a nice, busy ceremony (there were 4 babies being baptized), and Emilia was very well behaved, despite being called “Lillian” and various other things. We had a good assortment of support as well, including many of Melissa’s extended family, and of course Mom, David and Jackie. Emilia thanks you all for coming out to be with her on her special day (and thanks to Jolene for taking most of the pictures)!

(Note: just as Emilia was brought home in the little orange outfit that I was brought home in, she was baptized in Melissa and Jonathan’s baptism dress, which is why it may appear a little “old”)

(Another note: this is the last new post using the “Exhibit” picture system that I’ve been using since I started the site. Future posts will use WordPress 2.5’s built-in gallery feature, which I must say is quite slick)

At this very moment, thousands of high school students across the country are graduating, only to begin a journey where all their hopes and dreams (and ill-conceived notions of the “real world”) are dashed like the potential of a Milli Vanilli comeback tour.  I know this to be true because Melissa (with her new shoulder-length hair) is at the St Pat’s grad today.  She promised me that she wouldn’t cry; after all, she tried her best to not only teach her kids something about Biology, but to smack a bit of sense into their skulls every now and then.

I got to meet a few of her students last night at an Inter-Faith service at the school.  They’re a lively, colourful bunch, and it was nice to finally put a face to the names that Melissa has spoken of in the past (as I’m sure was the case for them with me).  The service itself was interesting as well: as far as I can figure, its theme was “light”, as in “high school graduates must go forth and bear the light” yadda yadda.  I’d like to think I understand, but usually I don’t.  The evening had a predominantly Christian slant, which is representative of the school’s history and population, with a few touches of Judaism, Islam and Shambhala thrown in for good measure.  The music was nice, with a largish choir singing a few traditional Christian hymns (some of which we knew, including one of Melissa’s favorites, the Prayer of St Francis).

Afterwards we went to Mexicali Rosa’s for supper, where we spent (what we consider to be) WAY too much money on food.  We aren’t going there again for a while.  Next up:  the Royal Nova Scotia International Tattoo!  Preview show is tomorrow, regular engagements Saturday to Saturday.  I’m missing at least two shows (Tuesday and Wednesday) for various reasons.

Lately, every other post in this blog has been about someone dying, and I apologize for that. I found out yesterday that Fr. Daniel Thivierge, a very young military priest stationed in Gagetown, passed away in January after a short bout with cancer. He was only 31. The reason that I mention this is that I got to know Dan 6 years ago on my trip to Rome for World Youth Day… He was a seminarian at the time, and was with our group as a chaperone. Since we were close in age, we got along well and we had many great conversations. The one I’ll remember most was when those girls took off without telling anyone, so we went out to look for them, and basically just went to get ourselves some gelato. We discussed our faith, and how his had brought him to where he was and how happy he was to have made the decisions he had made. When we got back, the other chaperones were busy giving the kids a tongue-lashing for not taking our trip seriously.

He was definitely loved by his parish in Gagetown, and no doubt he’ll be missed.  If you knew him, he’s in a couple of the pictures from our trip to Italy that I posted a while back, which can be found here.

Dad’s Memorial Service in Shearwater last night brought back memories of a lot of good times at Our Lady of the Assumption parish. The service was a mass, plain and simple. I did the reading, and Mom & David brought up the gifts along with a Knights of Columbus honour guard. The music was tremendously beautiful, with Gary LeBlanc assisting Judi Beagan and the Shearwater choir (as it was when we’d left). The hymns they sang were This Day God Gives Me; Come Back To Me; Jesus, Je Voudrais; How Can I Keep From Singing; and City of God, all of which were chosen by Mom and I. Judi mentioned that they would have loved to have had me playing with them again, but they figured I probably wouldn’t have been up to it, and they were right.

The best part of the night, though, was definitely the people. Most of the crew we knew back when we attended the church were there, and they were all happy to see us, and very sincere in their wishes. A lot of our friends and family attended the service as well: Alphy, Betty, Alice and Sr. Theresa made the trek in from PEI for the day (and went home last night, the loons); Melissa’s parents and Jackie’s mom came; the Koval crew (all of them) was there; a bunch of people from Superior Propane; Stella Doyle and her boys, who have been friends of our family for a very long time; and of course, Sonja and Zoe. Many people asked Melissa if Zoe was hers (when Sr. Theresa came in, having seen us only last week, she remarked “My, that was fast”), and commented on how natural it was to see her with a baby in her arms.

In truth, what I’ll remember most about last night is the community, the togetherness, that feeling of kinship and familiarity that Melissa and I haven’t seen since we started attending mass at St. Pius X. These are our friends and family, and they’ll always be, and we’ll always have that no matter where we go. Dad really meant a lot to them, and their support last night showed it. It really makes me think twice about my decision to abandon Our Lady of the Assumption two years ago. There actually IS more to church than your “Sunday obligation”… One’s choice of chapel shouldn’t be based on the price of gas.

The mass ended at around 7:45, I think, but we didn’t get out of there until around 9:00PM. Dad would have loved it.

CBC News: Cloth image draws visitors to P.E.I. church

Mom told me about this one yesterday.  Apparently the Church was a zoo on Saturday and Sunday afternoon with everyone coming out of the woodwork to catch a glimpse of the Jesus-curtain.  Mom said she went to see it, but she couldn’t really figure out where the face was.  There was no sailboat in it either.

(for the uninitiated, St. Simon & St. Jude Church is Mom’s parish, as she lives just outside of Tignish)

Yesterday, Melissa and I attended the funeral of Paraskevi (Vivian) Konstantinidis, the wife of my colleague at SMU, Stavros Konstantinidis (whose class I’m teaching for the remainder of the semester, for this reason). It was held at the Greek Orthodox Church on Purcell’s Cove Rd. Since I don’t speak Greek, I didn’t understand what was being said, but I could still feel the sorrow and grief that her family and friends are struggling with at the moment.

The most prevalent impression that I retained from the service was the old-world feeling of it. The church itself (I’d never been there before) was covered in icons, and had a very holy, spiritual air to it. Generally speaking, the persistant chanting throughout the service allowed the mind to enter into a meditative trance to contemplate the loss of loved ones, as well as the grand tradition associated with these types of rituals. Bells ringing… An open casket, and paying last respects to the departed… A culture alien to me, yet familiar. Very European, I suppose, reminding me of my trip there so many years ago (Italy, not Greece, but I still felt a similar vibe).

There is something to be said about an old religion. While the Catholic mass is steeped in tradition, there was something about yesterday’s ceremony that resonated very deeply within. This is a faith taken very seriously by its followers, who have not necessarily tried to change themselves over the years to keep up with an perpetually-evolving society.

In a couple of days, a contingent of youth from the Archdiocese of Halifax are departing for Cologne, Germany, where they will celebrate World Youth Day with Pope Benedict XVI along with a few hundred thousand youth from around the world. I was at the last two World Youth Day events: in 2000, I went to Rome along with a group consisting of military dependents from Shearwater and from Borden, Ontario. In 2002, I went to Toronto with a new group from Shearwater, albeit this time in the company of the crew from the Archdiocese of Halifax.

Coincidentally, it was five years ago today that I left for Italy… I have such fond memories of both those trips, the people I met, the things we saw, and the feelings we shared and experienced were among the most profound and awe-inspiring that a person can experience in his lifetime. I really regret not being able to go this year (it’s for the best, given our working schedules this summer and my finishing my project), but I hope to be able to go to Sydney in 2008 (yes, it’s all but confirmed now). They’ll probably have it in January (to coincide with their summer), but an Australian vacation pilgrimage would do the soul a world of good, donchathink?

In the interest of WYD, I’ve posted a selection of pictures from my two trips. These were all on the old wyd2002.starcatcher.ca site that was lost when my hard drive crashed last fall (and prior to that, a PhotoPoint account. Remember those?). Not included in these thumbnails is the group shot from Toronto, which I continue to keep alive.

I bailed out on last night’s Tattoo recording session in order to attend the baptism of a friend. In light of Owen and Andrea’s impending nuptials (next June), Owen was to be baptised in the Anglican Church (tangent: you have to admire the prospect of getting married in a church that was in part founded on divorce ).

The service, held at St. Marks’ on Gottingen St., wasn’t too bad, very similar to a Catholic mass in terms of its structure, but where we are accustomed to a sermon, we instead were given a short history lesson on the life of St. Alban (I prefer something on which I can reflect, and the story of a Roman soldier who was to become Britain’s first martyr didn’t give me as much to chew on as I might have liked). There was also Communion, in which we did not participate, although upon further reflection and given my opinion on some of the doctrines of the Catholic Church, I might want to reconsider that decision in the future. Faith and spirituality are weird and wonderful things.

And of course, they had the organ music. I don’t like organ music. Too stuffy and grandiose for my liking, and (I find, at least from what I’ve been exposed to) very emotionally distant. Give me a guitar or a piano any day, or something with FEELING! (”In The Garden of Eden?” I was thinking about that the whole time the organ went. Strangely enough, that song was featured at the end of the movie we watched last night, but more on that later).

Owen is embarking on what could be a very wonderful journey, should he embrace it fully. The best part is always knowing that you have people there to support you, every step of the way, and it would appear that at least at that church, he does.

I’ll never cease to be amazed at how much fervour a single man can gnerate in his lifetime, regardless of how jaded the populace tends to be. My renewal of faith started in earnest after I’d attended World Youth Day in Rome back in 2000. While I was there, I managed to take this picture of the Pope:

He spoke at length that night, and since it was mostly in Italian, I couldn’t understand it. Nevertheless, there was something in the air that night that set a spark in my heart.

I saw it again two years later in Toronto, where a cynical western metropolis was brought to its knees by the sight of a frail man who seemed to have some sort of power over the masses. Hundreds of thousands stood in the rain to celebrate mass with him. If only for a short period of time, people’s faith was restored.

It shouldn’t take important occasions for armchair Christians to get up and proclaim their faith. I’m sure, though, that more people than myself had their lives profoundly changed by the experience, even if he was just a small speck on a big stage to them. The Catholic Church (and faith in general) is about more than a man, it’s about a people coming together in community, and in unity, for the betterment of mankind, however that may be.

In the end, whatever it takes to win peple over is what has to be done. One Pope at a time.

Today is April Fool’s day. It’s always fun catching media sources trying to pull a fast one with a variety of stories that may or may not be true. There are a bunch on Slashdot that appear to be of a dubious nature, but nothing really in the major news sources.

A lot of talk about the health of the Pope, of course. With all due respect, I think that if we are going to pray for the Pope right now, we should pray that he goes quickly and without much suffering, because he’s pretty much gone beyond the point of no return, and he hasn’t been able to effectively lead his faithful for the last year or so. We’re still very attached to the old guy though, despite what many people would call his old-fashioned ways and the Church’s continuing stance on many of the day’s hot topics. Nevertheless, his legacy is one that is unrivalled in the modern age, and his contributions to society are numerous; many people give him a lot of credit in the downfall of Soviet Russia, and of course the rise of solidatiry in Poland upon his ascension to the papacy. It’ll be interesting to see if and how the Church will be different once he passes.

Imagine if THAT turned out to be a big hoax? Turn on the TV tomorrow morning, and the Pope’s all up in our faces, doing cartwheels and proclaiming how we’d all been punk’d. What balls it would take to pull off THAT stunt!

If there’s one thing that can be said about many Catholics, it’s that they’re set in their ways, to a fault. They don’t want their church to change, both in terms of its tenets, and also in the way that things work there. This weekend, we celebrated the Resurrection of Christ, but our discussion with a friend after mass veered more towards church politics than any message that Christ could have given us, and it really left us with a sour taste in our mouths.

It’s quite discouraging when people come to a new church and try to establish themselves, but instead find themselves under constant scrutiny by people who preferred the way it was done before. Apparently, it happened that way with our current priest when he arrived (we missed that, as it was many years ago): he tried to change a few things, and as a result, many parishioners left. Some may return, should our priest be posted elsewhere. They’ve apparently had these kind of issues with other people involved in other ministries, too. I’ll spare the details, since they are rather embarassing and shameful, as these things were done by Catholics, to Catholics, and I’d rather not be associated with them. Suffice it to say that most of the negative energy is not so much directed at people for who they are, but rather, for who they aren’t, or better yet, whose shoes they are filling.

There are many reasons people go to church. To worship our Lord, to gather as a community to establish and cultivate relationships, these are all valid and healthy reasons. Political machinations and backstabbing are not. The people responsible for this hypocritical behaviour should definitely take a good, long look at themselves, at what makes them a Christian: love and acceptance of your fellow man should be right up there.

If there’s one thing that I could change about the Catholic Church, it’s that its members (or rather, the host of its more conservative members) be a little more open to change, be it either the sweeping social reforms we see happening nation wide, or maybe just a few new faces arriving to add a new twist to their Sunday routine. A little growth is definitely good for the well-being of the spirit.

Well, it’s that time of year again. Starting today, Catholics everywhere beginning observing the season of Lent, which basically boils down to not eating meat, giving up fun things, and feeling guilty about yourself. We do it to commemorate the 40 days and nights that Christ spent in the desert being tempted by the devil, in preparation for his ministry, and ultimately his capture and crucifixion at the hands of the Romans and/or the Jewish High Priests (depending on who you want to believe; ultimately, it doesn’t matter). And you thought YOUR life was rough.

When we were younger, we’d give up things for Lent like candy and other stuff that we enjoyed. Now that I understand a bit more, I know that it’s just as important to do *more* during Lent as it is to give things up. So, while I’m giving up a few things, I’m going to try to do a little extra here and there where I wouldn’t otherwise.

Lent is about many things, among which is penance. As a result the things we choose to either do extra or give up shouldn’t necessarily be easy for us. They should test our mettle as free-thinking people, and ultimately benefit others if at all possible. I mean, I’m not going to say, “This Lent, I’m going to eat broken glass every day,” or “I’m gonna smack someone with a hammer.” Mind you, being a little more charitable, a little more reliable, a little more forgiving, a little Christ-like doesn’t hurt.

So what’s the goal in all this? I’d like to think that we could grow as people, that some of these commitments we make for these 40 days actually stick with us and allow us to become better people, Christian or otherwise. The problem is that as soon as Easter comes, many people just think, “Phew, I’m glad that’s over,” and go back to being how they were before Lent.

Lent should be a time for penitence, yes, but also a time for spiritual and personal growth. Christ gave up a lot so that we could live; we could stand to part with a little.

I was recently told about this story that concerns the Bishop of Calgary and his stance on homosexuality, that it’s evil and detrimental to the family (or at least, what is traditionally defined as “the family”; he mentions that adultery, pornography and prostitution affect the family as well, which is great, but his inclusion of homosexuality is a definite dig), essentially calling for a state-led witch-hunt on all things gay. With all due respect to naysayers, we shouldn’t really be surprised that someone from the Roman Catholic Church should take such a stance against homosexuality, although taking such an extreme stance in this day and age, where many Catholics are starting to realize that there is more to the world than Catholics, might be akin to biting the hand that feeds you.

Read the rest…

The other day, I was at the Dal bookstore getting some bus tickets when I ran into a friend from World Youth Day, Stéphanie Simard. Lucky thing has just come back from having spent a month in Rome of all places. We chatted in line for a while (she needed a bus pass, and the line was very long), talking about all sorts of things church-related. Turns out she isn’t going to World Youth Day this year either (we’re not going because we can’t afford the time/too much uncertainty. Maybe next time around.), but that a bunch of people we both know are.

What struck me about her though was that she was so deeply committed to her faith. She was originally a parishioner at our current church (St. Pius X), but left several years ago over a dsagreement with the priest. You see, unlike most young Catholics, Stéphanie has a vocation, a desire to enter the sisterhood and dedicate her life to God’s work (don’t ask for details, I don’t know them. If she ever reads this, maybe she’ll clarify). Interestingly, her priest frowned on this, and that didn’t sit well with her. After all, if HE had committed his life to God, why shouldn’t SHE?

What got me most during the 10 minutes or so that we chatted was the absolute sincerity, the conviction in her voice as she alluded to her plans. In this day and age, you just don’t see that kind of zeal anymore, especially among young Catholics. It just goes to show that there’s still life in this ol’ church! That’s probably why I enjoyed being involved in the Youth Ministry and the World Youth Day gatherings years ago… That zeal, the Holy Spirit’s loving fire, is a very infectuous thing.

I remember being asked when I was younger if I had ever thought of becoming a priest when I grew up. Back then, I didn’t really care much about the church, and I figured that the reason I couldn’t do it was that I could never really back up what I would say as a priest. I have nothing but the utmost respect for someone who can dedicate their lives to a power that is incomprehensible, all-knowing, all-forgiving, and all-loving.

What am I saying, I did do that… After all, I married her, didn’t I?

I’m going to break up my Christmas rantings into two parts. This is the shorter rant, because the religious side of my Christmas was not as involved as the secular side.

The choir at our church (St. Pius X in Fairview) has been preparing for Christmas mass for the past month and a half or so. During that time we’ve had a chance to develop a rapport with one another, although not as much as if we all knew each other real well. I guess this is really inevitable, seeing as I only got there a short time ago, and the choir consists of people from both of the masses that Gary helms (musically). In any event, Christmas Eve night (7PM and 11PM) was the pinnacle of our preparation.

For some reason, the two masses felt different to me. Not all of the choir showed up for both masses. There were very few women at the 7PM mass, for example. I’m not going to criticize that, though. I enjoyed the music of the 7PM mass, bumps and all. While we might have played a little better during the 11PM mass, I think we were missing a bit of the spirit from the previous mass. I know I wasn’t into it as much; maybe it was because I was tired; maybe it was because I didn’t like a couple of the hymns (you can’t please everybody, I guess); or maybe it was because I was in the back row for the 11PM mass, so I could be close to Melissa and still play in the choir. I’ll never really know why one of the hymns was sung solo (and with one misplaced chord that kinda bugged me each time it was played)…. defeats the purpose of a choir, donchaknow.

The masses themselves were nice… The church was pretty packed for both, lots of C&E’ers. Fr. Duncan is coming across as more charismatic and involved in his services each week, and I commend him for that. Jaded priests is definitely one of my pet peeves.

After the dust settled, I’m proud to say that I was a part of the choir at St. Pius X for Christmas of 2004. While I don’t think I’ve made lasting friends yet, there are a few people I got to know relatively well, and I look forward to seeing them again in the coming year. Who knows, I might even join their choir full-time at some point!

I’m becoming a jaded Catholic.

Read the rest…

I don’t get to play much anymore. I guess I’ve brought that on myself. Anyway I’ve decided to join the choir at St. Pius X in Fairview for Christmas. It looks like it’s going to be a good time. There are a fair number of people there, including a fiddle player and apparently a pianist. Even better, they seem to have no trouble learning the hymns (which is a step up from Shearwater in some respects ).

I already know all the hymns… Since I don’t have that curve to worry about, I can focus on my delivery… Gary feels that we should be able to pray the hymns, not just sing them, and that’s a great frame of mind and soul to be in. I’m glad to be able to sing with him again, because I’ve learned so much from him over the years.

Maybe someday I’ll be in the choir full-time, but for now I’d rather stay in the congregation with Lissa.

I haven’t posted one of these in a while, not since the server crashed anyway. Last week we were in Tignish, so that doesn’t count. Two weeks ago, we went to St. Agnes on Mumford Rd., which Melissa couldn’t stand, for a few reasons:

Read the rest…