Jim McDaniel, Bellarmine Chapel, December 8, 2001

My name is Jim McDaniel. I made my Cursillo weekend in September 2000 at Missionhurst where I sat at the table of the SEEKERS.

What a privilege it is, just a little over a year since my Cursillo weekend, to be asked to share a witness with you. I am humbled. I am honored. I will try my best to share a personal vision of holiness, formation and evangelization with you in the next few minutes.

Today, December 8^th, we commemorate the Immaculate Conception.

“And Mary said, ‘Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.’ And the angel departed from her.” (LUKE 1:38)

• A simple, but powerful statement
• An act of putting oneself into God’s hands
• An acceptance of God’s plan over one’s own plan
• A setting aside of the issues that trouble you, the things you don’t understand – “Let Go, Let God”
• Anticipation of a future that only God can know, a future that will be revealed to you in God’s time

Yet, for most of my life, this was a concept that I understood intellectually, but did not necessarily practice.

Until 3 years ago

On a trip to Australia with my daughter in 1998, she met for the first time several of my maternal grandmother’s relatives, including 3 elderly siblings. It was an emotional experience for all of us. My daughter received several gifts from her great-great aunts and uncle, whom she would probably never see again. They are all in their late 80’s and 90’s. She told me she would treasure forever the gifts and the photos she took with her.

When we left Australia, I put all the mementos and the film in one suitcase, and that was the suitcase that the airline lost. We waited at Dulles Airport for hours, but the carousel just wouldn’t produce that precious bag. My daughter was devastated, but I wasn’t worried. From experience I knew that lost baggage usually turned up the next day. However, 3 days went by, and nothing…

On that 3^rd day, with despair looming on my personal horizon, I finally put this dilemma into God’s hands. I prayed. I said, “Lord, if it is in your plan to find this lost suitcase, this would be a good time.” Not minutes after I finished my prayer, the phone rang. It was United Airlines. The bag had been located and it was on its way to us. Hallelujah!

The very next Sunday, at mass, I said a prayer of thanksgiving. I ended by saying, “Lord, if there is something I can do to show my appreciation, please send me a sign.” As we were leaving the church, our pastor put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Jim, I’m going to Haiti in February. Would you like to come?” All of a sudden, I stopped believing in coincidences. It was like being hit on the head. “Of course I’ll go,” I responded, not knowing anything about Haiti, just knowing that the connection between my prayer and this offer was too immediate to ignore.

Thus began what I am seeing as a significant conversion experience in my life.

I went to Haiti in February 1999. Passing through the headquarters of Food For the Poor in Florida I remember two powerful messages. One was a sign on a desk that said “There are no coincidences in life – only steps in God’s plan.” The other message was in the photos lining the walls of the corridors. They were of people – close up – with eyes that burned with hope. I would have expected to see pictures of projects too, but it was only the eyes of the poor that followed us throughout the building. And I thought to myself that these photos are a constant reminder to the people who work there that the fruit of their labor satisfies a desperate human need.

My life changed in Haiti.

I went to Maison D’Amour. Sounds like a classy French restaurant, doesn’t it? But it is a place where 12 sisters and workers care for 206 girls, ages 2 to 16. All are orphans, abandoned by mothers who could not afford to feed them, left to beg for food on the streets, rescued before they were forced into prostitution or dead of starvation and disease.

I went to Isaie Jeanty Maternity Hospital where women have to lie or sit on the floor in the hallway before being moved into the delivery room to give birth. There is no labor room. Women in recovery sleep two, sometimes three to a bed, with their babies. It is not uncommon for mothers and babies to die during or after delivery due to the lack of proper equipment and supplies. There is no facility for babies born with complications. They can’t even do a Caesarian Section here. Two out of ten babies who are born here will die here. Incredibly, this is the best place for a woman to give birth. Elsewhere in Haiti, one out of every two babies born does not make it to age one.

I helped feed 2,000 people one afternoon, scooping rice and a watery stew into plastic pails, tin buckets – whatever containers they had. My back hurt, but my pain was nothing compared to the constant hunger these people and their families live with. They are destitute, but their eyes are bright with appreciation. As I have at every stop, I saw God again in the eyes of the poor.

I went to Cite Soleil, a horrible slum where 500,000 people barely survive. Naked children walked barefoot through excrement and filth. People squatted in garbage heaps to move their bowels, while goats and pigs picked through the trash beside them. The front of our vehicle was like the bow of a boat, parting waves of people as we drifted further into hell.

I cried then. I cry now, at the thought of how much suffering and sorrow these people bear.

When I returned from Haiti, on the next Sunday morning, at mass, my wife Michele and I selected a pew without looking at who was beside us. When I looked up from my initial prayers, to my surprise, my roommate from the Haiti trip and his family were right next to us. Coincidence? I think not. Nor was it coincidental that the first reading that day was from Isaiah 58:

“Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—when you see the naked, to clothe him, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood? …..”

At that moment I committed to giving some part of the rest of my life to helping those less fortunate.

The next step in my conversion came in September 2000, just 7 months after the pilgrimage to Haiti. Again, a significant spiritual experience came my way. A fellow parishioner, who had accompanied us to Haiti, just happened to ask if I would be interested in a Cursillo weekend. I was open to the suggestion only because I trusted this friend, based on our Haiti experience. I had no idea what Cursillo was. I had seen “De Colores” on bumper stickers, but thought it was a symbol of some Hispanic gang.

What a powerful experience that weekend was. The structure of the Cursillo movement worked on me in a wonderful way. The weekend opened my heart and mind to the depth of God’s love. The fourth day has reinforced the investment the team made in me during the weekend. The fourth day has also kept me focussed on living the example Jesus gives us with His life. And the fourth day provides regular opportunities to share with others my closest moments with God, my efforts at formation, and examples of evangelization.

Now, I was starting to see a pattern emerging. I have always been a planner. At work and at home, I meticulously planned every event, every career move, every stage of life. And I always had contingencies worked out, in case things didn’t go according to my plan. Now, I was clearly being led away from my plan. I was learning to be open to another plan – a plan being revealed to me gradually, step by step.

Within a month after the Cursillo weekend, I found myself in Nicaragua, assessing continuing relief needs following Hurricane Mitch.

I became more involved with Nativity Church’s “Project Starfish,” an annual fundraising effort that has now brought nearly $500,000 in housing and medical relief to the poor of Haiti. I helped produce a videotape about “Project Starfish” that has gone to churches across the country.

I was contacted by Catholic Relief Services about assisting them with future projects in Latin America.

I was approached by the Greenstar Foundation about helping select a site in Haiti for a development project.

I was starting to feel like the Jabez Prayer had taken hold of my life – that God had something big, something wonderful, something only He could make happen – in store for me. And all I had to do was be open to His plan.

This past summer, another major spiritual event took hold of my life. On the 4^th of July, I was well into planning a second pilgrimage to Haiti for Nativity parishioners. I had recruited nearly all of the 21 people who would be leaving August 28 for a weeklong experience with the poorest of the poor. I was thrilled that 2 high schoolers would be going – the first time young people would be joining us. I also had encouraged an official from the University of Illinois and a retired businessman from Massachusetts to join us. Fr. Dick Martin, our pastor, was looking forward to this trip.

On that same day, the 4^th of July, I was struggling with a personal decision. My sister in Boston had called me the day before to say that our mother would be having an endoscopy on July 5^th. She had a little stomach pain and the doctor thought it might be a gallstone. I didn’t know whether I should go to Boston or not. Plane fares are so expensive when you travel on short notice. And it didn’t sound like much of a problem for Mom. My plan was to wait until the procedure was done.

But my life now was different. I no longer had as much confidence in My Plan. That day I asked God what His plan was. And He said “GO!”

At 6 a.m. on July 5^th, I was on a US Airways Shuttle flight to Boston. A couple of hours later, I was sitting in a waiting room at St. Elizabeth’s Hospital when the endocrinologist emerged from the O.R. When I saw the expression on his face, I grabbed my sister’s hand. He said “It’s not good. She has a tumor. It looks to be malignant. It is too far advanced to do anything about. She has 3-6 months.”

The doctor’s prediction of 3-6 months turned out to be 57 days. On August 28, my mother died at 3 o’clock in the morning. A few hours earlier, she woke from a dream and said, “Jimmy, I just saw a beautiful place. I want to go back there.” I replied, “Mom, it’s OK. Your work here is done. Sharon and I will be fine. You can go home to Jesus now.”

During those two months from July 5^th to August 28^th, God was more present in my life than ever before. He understood the disappointment I felt when I realized that my plan for Mom was not His plan for her. In His love and compassion, he put a number of people in our environment and caused a number of things to happen to make the experience more bearable for Mom, my sister and me. These were things that only He could do.

• Like having Mom in a Catholic Hospital with 3 full time priests on staff

• Like creating a first-time hospice arrangement in the hospital, which was what Mom wanted

• Like building a friendship between me and the head chaplain, who was losing his father to illness at the same time

• Like having Fr. Martin there to answer the phone every single time I called for support. I remember worrying about the pilgrimage. He reassured me that God would not take Mom while I was in Haiti. He felt confident that he and I would be together at Mom’s funeral when it happened.

Only those who have been there best understand the experience of losing a parent. The grief process is different for everybody, but those of us who lose parents can’t help but feel more understanding, more compassion, for each other.

God’s presence didn’t diminish after Mom died. I saw Him at work when I called Fr. Martin in his hotel room in Miami to inform him of Mom’s passing. You will recall that August 28^th was the day our pilgrimage was leaving for Haiti. Imagine my shock when, after telling Fr. Martin that we had lost my mother, he said, “Jim, last night while I was in a McDonald’s getting a hamburger, someone broke into my rental car and stole my suitcases, including my passport. I’m not going to Haiti with the group today. I’m coming home. Looks like the Lord wants me in Boston to say the funeral mass for your Mom.”

It was a beautiful funeral. My pastor, my sister’s pastor, and a boyhood friend who is pastor of a Catholic church in Springfield, Massachusetts, all joined us in Boston to concelebrate. It was a teaching moment for the congregation – people still talk about how the liturgy, the music, the eulogies all came together to celebrate Mom’s life of love, service and simplicity.

And God’s inspiration to me through the experience of bringing my Mother home to him has continued to provide opportunities to evangelize. Michele and I were at a grief workshop just last week where we were able to help a woman who lost her husband at the Pentagon on September 11 with some simple, but timely advice on dealing with the holidays.

In less than 3 years, with these experiences and many others, I cannot help but feel that God has something big in store for me. In this short amount of time, the Holy Spirit has showered me with changes in my life that are like fireworks going off on the 4^th of July. Spectacular, continuous bursts of beauty that have enriched my spiritual life and opened my heart to whatever He has in mind for me. I have moved from being a member of the Church to being a Disciple of Christ.

I recently took another step in opening myself to Him. I decided to end my career with the federal government 5 years earlier than I myself had planned. I am retiring at the end of this month so I can devote more time and energy to whatever it is that God has planned for me.

It is a little unsettling to make major changes like early retirement, with only the faith that I am following a plan that is yet to be revealed to me. But, I believe that only by clearing the decks, removing the clutter of life, quieting things down, only by making life simpler and being more open, can I hear the message He has for me and follow His lead.

Jesus, I exalt you! You have given me a new heart, no longer darkened by sin but made pure by the shedding of Your blood. By Your spirit, give me the strength and courage to cooperate with You as You reshape me in Your image.

De Colores!

George McAleer

Are you familiar with contemplative prayer? I thought I was, but when I needed it most, it abandoned me. Better said, I abandoned it. At fearful times in my life, it seems I abandon all forms of prayer.

I became familiar with contemplative prayer through friends, books, workshops, and visits to Holy Cross Abbey near Berryville. I found it to be very different from prayer forms I was familiar with, yet one I've slowly come to enjoy. My definition of contemplative prayer is "coming into the presence of God and listening to Him." I have found what's best for me is to set aside 20 minutes sitting in a quiet, restful environment and listening to what the Lord has for me. No, I cannot hear Him audibly. I try to blank out my mind so He can do whatever a God wants to do

When I first began this, I was asking what the result of these 20 minutes should be. Father Mark, a Trappist monk at the abbey, told me there was no product to my prayer, nothing to walk away with. But he added my life could be changed as a result of it. (It has.) But my mind tends to wander during the 20-minute prayer time. He indicated not to worry about what happens during the 20 minutes. Just be there. I call it the 8th sacrament--the Sacrament of Showing Up. God is more concerned with my intention of being with Him, and not to my rapt attention to what's happening.

Back to how it abandoned me; better said, how I abandoned it. I spent a week at Fairfax Hospital in late June. I had an infection the docs were trying to trace, so I was not in serious condition. (My wife, Joanne, disagrees with me on the seriousness of my illness.) My Cyrenian friends brought me Eucharist each day; I slept well; and I ate three good meals each day. So what's my prayer problem you ask?

I thought the week of relative peace and solitude would be a good one for prayer. Twenty minutes each day for the Lord seemed a rather simple task. Yet I hardly prayed all week, except when Fr. Paul and Cyrenian friends stopped by for a few minutes.

Why didn't I pray more often? I think it was fear; I was afraid. Too often I want to present an image of one who is in control of everything going on around me. Well, it simply isn't true. Yes, I know this Lord of mine is in charge, but I've come to realize that more often I'm not praying to Him. I hope He knows this fear I have. No one else does.

I believe the reality of it all is the weeks and months of my life when I do pray. It prepares me for times when prayer doesn't come so easily. I remember during my flying years practicing emergency procedures over and over in case an urgent situation occurred in flight. They did happen and my response was automatic; I never thought twice about what to do.

Do you think I was praying in my own way the best I could this past week--"emergency procedure" prayers? Maybe I was and didn't know it. I like to think I was on automatic, like my emergency procedures when I was flying. Hopefully the days and weeks of "regular prayer" prepare one for the fearful, difficult times in our lives when we can't pray.

This God of ours can do anything. Thirty-some years ago He showed up many times when I needed Him in wartime flying situations. I'm convinced He continues to do so today.

George McAleer

Postscript

I shared this with a group of Christians a few days after my hospital release. When I finished telling them what you've just read, one of the men said he disagreed that no prayer was going in my life that week. The two times he visited me in the hospital, he recalled me greeting all the nurses, aides, technicians, and food servers by their first names, doing it authentically and with a positive, optimistic outlook.

I thought about what this man said. Do you think this was the Lord sharing His presence to the world through me? My friend, Ed thinks so. Hmmmm, I wonder?

Pauline Ferguson, Nativity Ultreya, August/September 2001

As we came to the end of summer, and now in the wake of the recent terrorist attacks, I thought it fitting to reflect upon the time spent with friends and cherish the moments. Like the disciples of Christ meeting together in the upper room, talking and sharing with each other, here we come together to do the same as friends on the journey toward the kingdom of God.

Christian friendships are a gift from God, and they have a Scriptural basis. God planned for them to happen and He meant for us to be a blessing to one another. Sirach says in chapter 6:14, “Faithful friends are a sturdy shelter; whoever finds one has found a treasure.” And, Sirach 25:1 further states, “With three things I am delighted, for they are pleasing to the Lord and to men: harmony among brethren, friendship among neighbors, and the mutual love of husband and wife.”

When we think about friendship, it is important to recognize the spiritual dimension that is part of every relationship. What could be a clearer sign of how much God loves us than the Witness of His people upholding one another and sharing their lives with each other, in bad times as well as good.

On the one hand, The Holy Spirit is at work encouraging us to love, to forgive, and to support one another. God also places us in different people’s paths for a reason. Wherever our journey, we are here to help each other get through life. We also need to be aware that the evil one is at work sowing seeds of jealousy, resentment, and mistrust. He knows that if he can destroy friendships, he can weaken the body of Christ. All too often, we fail to see this, and thus do not pray or ask the Holy Spirit for help to keep on guard against the snares of Satan.

We all know how difficult it can be to establish and maintain close friendships, especially when one or the other of us experiences times of trial. We also know how rewarding it is to have a friendship that can stand the test of time and bring glory to God by reflecting His love to others.

It is such a comfort and joy to have someone to speak with on terms of equality and without judgment or fear to confess our failings or our progress and triumph over problems. Proverbs chapter 17:17 says, “A friend loves at all times, and brothers are born to share adversity.” Second Corinthians chapter 1:3-4 says, “Blessed be God the Father and Son of Mercy who comforts us in all our trials so that we may also comfort others who are in distress.”

Aelred of Rievaulx, who wrote about the Blessings of Friendship, says, “Friendship heightens the joys of prosperity and mitigates the sorrows of adversity.” Is a friend going through a difficult time – perhaps a painful illness, financial troubles, or death in the family? Is someone you know struggling with disappointment or betrayal by another? We should not distance ourselves; rather, we need to support them in any way we can, even if just to listen. Remember how present and faithful Jesus has been to us. Also, Jesus held the status of friendship in high regard and considered us as such.

St. Francis de Sales points out, however, that “true and living friendship cannot endure in the midst of sins,” i.e., cheating, deception, stealing or gossip, etc. “ If it is just a passing sin, friendship puts it to flight at once by correction”, ie., apologize, heart to heart talk, etc. “ But if sin stays and settles down, immediately friendship perishes because it can be kept up only by true virtue.” Christian friendship is extremely important as a source of support in this secular world, with all its distractions and misdirection. We should appreciate these friendships and not take them for granted. We, too, must work on being a good friend ourselves. What do we do to improve, sustain, or encourage friendships? Are we committed or do we really care? Are we sincere or do we make excuses? Do we reach out to others even when it is inconvenient? What’s it going to cost us? A little time, effort, or money?

C. S. Lewis warns that “to love is to be vulnerable,” and it will hurt at times. However, life without love means a life of cold, emptiness, and no meaning.

Society often encourages people, especially men, to keep their guard up and remain distant. However, Jesus never intended His people to serve him in isolation, but to band together, whether as intercessors, servants to the poor, or sharers of the Gospel, etc. He sent us out two by two. The first believers were able to band together and offer each other support and blessing. They spent time together meeting and visiting in the upper room or in the temple. They broke bread, shared their lives or experiences, and praised God together. Know that as you become faithful, you become ministers of Jesus’ peace, hope, and healing to others. How have you been a friend to others? How has someone been a friend to you?

At this point, I’d like to tell you a little about a friend, a married couple, who were so warm and welcoming to us and our family when we first moved to town and to this large church almost 10 years ago. We were in the military, and being from the south, homesick and a long ways away from family, this was the last place we wanted to be with all its hectic way of life.

This couple, we met at church, had a large family of their own with challenges enough to keep anyone busy. They were the typical middle class family trying to meet all the financial requirements of this area. However, they took the time to visit us and invite us to various family gatherings and church socials. In addition, they volunteered in several church activities, one being CCD and the other being CYO sports. Even though their own children were grown and no longer in CCD or CYO, they took the time to coach our children in sports, and many other children as well, not just one year, but several. They were so comforting and cheerful. Everyone liked to be around them. They just exuded the joy and spirit of Christ. And, for this we are thankful, for the extension of God’s goodness to us through them. These acts of friendship encourage us even more to pass it on to others for love of God. We are still good friends and they continue to reach out and serve in so many ways.

A relationship based on the love of Jesus is a tremendous source of stability, comfort, and encouragement. Together with prayer and service to others, we build up the kingdom of God. What kind of community do we want? How much are we willing to do?

A friend is one who strengthens you with prayers, blesses you with love, and encourages you with hope. May you always enjoy the blessings of Christian friendship.

De Colores!

Betty Mills 8/01

My first experience being on team was even better than my weekend because of the ten terrific women and one terrific man with whom I enjoyed ten weeks of formation. The Cursillo experience has been so invigorating for me that I want to share it with everyone I meet. Yet I’ve talked about it to a number of people who told me that they’d made a weekend years before, but had never grouped or attended Ultreyas. A Cursillo weekend without the fourth day is like preparing a wonderful feast and not eating it. Isn’t there something we can do to prevent that from happening?
I’ve been told by some Cursillistas that they felt rather let down after their weekend when no one on the team ever got in touch with them. All that loving and caring and then not another word! I was blessed with a sponsor who invited me into her group, but not everyone is so fortunate.
There should be a back up system in place. Shortly after the weekend, a team member from his or her table should contact the new Cursillista just to see how he/she’s doing and to make sure a group has been found. Our Rectora asked us to do this, but apparently it hasn’t always happened.
Ideally, veteran Cursillistas from the babe chick’s parish would also make a point of seeking out the new ones and making sure they’re in groups. The responsibility is ultimately that of the sponsor, but he/she should be backed up by the team and the community.
While I’m at it, I’d like to bring up something else I feel very strongly about. I don’t think there should be any such thing as a “closed” group. All groups should be welcoming to newcomers at all times. I know that some groups have been meeting for many years and have a great dynamic and very close relationships established. However the idea of a group not actively welcoming newcomers seems to me to be opposed to the very heart of Cursillo.
Group size is often the reason for not welcoming new blood. Perhaps there should be a number at which the group would split. If a group feels that seven is enough, then when an eighth joins they should split into two groups of four, which would also welcome newcomers and grow over time. When one of the new groups reaches eight, it too would split.
It would be great if every fourth day group in the diocese would post the time and place of their meeting on the web page.
Someone may have a better idea of how to handle this, but I think it’s really important that no new Cursillista ever get the idea that any group would not extend a warm welcome.
Betty Mills

Thea Barron

Last March I made a Cursillo, the first area women's Cursillo of 2000. It was held in the serene setting of Missionhurst. My table was "Las Mujeres de Muchos Regalos", the women of many gifts. I'm not sure of the translation now, but what we wanted to say was that we had much to offer, to our table, to our fellow cursillistas of that weekend, and to the world. What talents God gave us, we wanted to share with others.
That was one of the messages I took away from the Cursillo: to be aware of what one's talents are and to determine how we can best make use of them for others. Said another way, how we can allow Christ to use us to serve others. To reach this goal, we must first be informed about Christ's message. This we learn by spiritual reading, starting with the scriptures, and moving on to spiritual writers who enlighten us on the Christian message, from the mystics to our contemporaries. And reading the lives of the saints, not just those officially sanctified by Rome, but those we have recognized in our lifetime like Martin Luther King Jr., Mother Theresa, Fr. Horace McKenna, Dorothy Day, Oscar Romero, Thea Bowman, and many closer to home, will give us ideas for how to use our talents for those in need around us.
Secondly, we must pray daily, privately conversing with our Lord, receiving the Eucharist as often as possible, and celebrating the gift of our faith in community. In our hectic world, especially in this area of serious workaholics, we also need to take time off for days of recollections and weekend retreats. I believe that daily meditation time is still the best way to listen to the Lord speak to us, and I am still struggling to fit this into my schedule.
Finally, we must take the big step and become public about our faith, bring it to the workplace where we spend most of the hours of our adult life. Many Christians, certainly Catholics among them, are reluctant to speak out about their faith. They feel better if it is a private thing. It has become politically uncorrect, you know, to talk about religion. Is it any wonder that the public mores as reported in the media is at an all time low? But is it? If we speak openly about our faith, we may be surprised at the response of the receiver.
The chief message then that I took away from my Cursillo last year is that we must have the courage to speak out. If we believe in this Jesus Christ as the son of God, of the Creator of the universe, and we believe in His unending love and mercy for ALL people, then how can we not share this belief with others? How can we keep this a secret and watch as others struggle with their personal crosses without the gift of faith?
Our individual acts of kindness to the poor among us, the homeless, the sick, the homebound, the troubled, the incarcerated, those carrying unwanted children, the disabled, the dying, speak volumes, even though not publicized. Our involvement in speaking out on justice issues, writing letters, contacting public officials, will eventually be noticed by those around us.
Why not go that extra tep and somehow let those around us know that we are not acting just as good citizens, but that we are acting as Christians. How? - by mentioning Lent or Advent when it comes, by taking time off from work to celebrate important holy days such as Good Friday; by sharing with co-workers that we sing in the parish choir, and inviting them to come listen; by inviting those we know are already interested in social justice, to work with us on a parish project or at a housing project or a soup kitchen. Even more simply, by praying with a friend before enjoying a meal together, or when a co-worker confides in us with a problem, by responding that we will remember them in our daily prayers.
Our Christian sisters and brothers of other faiths call it witnessing, not by standing on the proverbial soapbox, but through sharing with our neighbors the fact that our daily actions are linked inextricably with our Christian faith. This is not easy in our increasingly secular world. Our Cursillo group is there it give us support; allowing us to feel less alone as we travel on our journey back to God. – Thea Barron