I can’t pass up the opportunity, however, to celebrate the first anniversary of Live Holiness (September 1).  I want to thank all of you, my faithful readers, for your prayers, feedback, and encouragement.  It’s such a joy to connect with so many good people, Catholic and non-Catholic alike.  You’ve enriched my life, and for that I’m grateful.  I do plan to continue blogging, but I ask for your patience as I get out of my slump and adjust to my new schedule.

Here in southeastern New England we are tracking Hurricane Earl.  I’m a weather geek, and actually get very excited at the prospect of a major storm roaring up the coast.  Although it looks like we’ll be spared the worst of Earl’s brunt, his approach reminds me of the first post I wrote for Live Holiness.  And so on the first anniversary of this blog, I share that first post with you here.

God bless you!  And know that I pray for each of you.

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On Sunday, August 15, my beloved godmother and great-aunt went home to the Lord.  She was a truly amazing woman, and I wanted to share with you my homily from her funeral Mass. I hope this glimpse into her life inspires you to live closer to the Lord.

Thirty-one years ago, Rose Turano was given six months to live.  But for us who knew and loved her, we know that the doctor’s prognosis meant very little to her.  It didn’t matter what the doctors said.  Her faith in God was strong; her purpose was clear (she had a family to love); and her resolve was unshakable.

We know the outcome: by putting her faith in God, and by living a life of loving service, she won the battle.  I think it’s safe to say that today we are not mourning the death of a woman who lost the battle to cancer; rather, we’re here to remember and pray for a great woman who rose above a terminal illness to live an extraordinary life.

I want to put this funeral Mass in its proper context before I speak more about my Aunt Rose’s life.  First and foremost, what we focus on today is our Lord Jesus Christ.  Ninety-two years ago when Rose was baptized, she received God’s divine life in her soul and became a child of God.  Today, our firm hope is that she is now sharing fully in the Lord’s life and is with Him for eternity.

Aunt Rose loved God, and she believed that Christ died and rose to bring us the fullness of life.  When Christ rose from the dead, He conquered death so that all who are united to Him in baptism and believe in Him have the hope of sharing eternal life with Him.  This leads to the first point about Rose’s life that I want to focus on:

Her faith – Love of God and devotion to the Catholic Faith were at the heart of Aunt Rose’s life.  She and Uncle Jim came to this church every Sunday for Mass.  They also came here once a week to spend an hour in prayer before the Blessed Sacrament.  Even when she wasn’t able to go to Mass anymore, she still received Holy Communion every Sunday at her home.  Her faith in the Lord was rooted deeply in her heart, but she lived her faith in service to others.  Which leads to second point…

Her selflessness – If you asked me to think of one word that summarized my Aunt Rose’s life, it would be “selfless.”  She never thought about herself or focused on herself.  Her life was always about others.  When she and Uncle Jim met, he had three young, beautiful children from his first marriage.  In an extraordinary act of love, Aunt Rose embraced Cathy, Jim, and Mary Alice as her own, and they embraced her as mother.  And of course, three years later she gave birth to a baby girl, Rose Marie.  Her family was her life.  She was a faithful, loving and devoted wife of almost fifty-two years, an amazing mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, aunt, and friend.  And like any good Italian mother, she loved to feed people!

A few months ago, when she began to decline, I visited with her in the nursing home.  When I entered the room, I asked, “How are you feeling, Aunt Rose?”  “Oh fine.  But enough about me, how are you?”  After a few more minutes I asked again, “So, are you feeling okay?”  She said, “You know, Michael, when your parents die young you learn to stand on your own two feet.  I’ve never pitied myself.”

That was her life philosophy: no self-pity.  She never complained; she never spoke ill of another.  I never once heard her say the word “cancer.”  In fact, many people didn’t even know she had cancer.  And truthfully, I think that she just forgot about it herself.  I think, early on, she made a decision that she would not pity herself and that she would continue to live a life of love and service.  By doing this, she rose above her illness.  Which leads to my last point…

Her will – Her life was a true testimony to the power of faith in God and the strength of the human spirit.  She was one of the strongest women that I’ve ever known.  It seemed like nothing could keep her down.  Certainly as she got older she wasn’t able to do as much.  But it was hard to tell her to stop cleaning, to stop cooking, to stop waiting on others.  I pray that I can have just one-tenth of her spirit.

From the outside looking in, her life may have seemed rather ordinary: a wife, mother, grandmother, friend.  But for those of us who knew and loved her, we know that she was not an ordinary woman; she was one of the most extraordinary women that we’ve ever known.  Our lives are richer because of her.  Personally, I can say that one of the greatest gifts my parents gave to me is my godparents: Uncle Jim and Aunt Rose.

I can’t end this homily without mentioning the day on which she died.  Sunday, August 15, was the feast of Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary into heaven.  I truly believe that on that day, the Blessed Virgin Mary came and took Aunt Rose by the hand to lead her to Eternal Life.

And so we pray for her during this Mass that the Lord will welcome her into the Kingdom of Heaven.  May we honor her by living a life of vibrant faith in God and by serving others.

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It was Uncle Mike to the rescue.  Last Monday, my sister Maureen had an appointment in Cranston, which is very close to where I live in Providence.  She asked if I could watch the girls for a couple of hours during that time.  Of course, I was happy to do so.  I’m blessed to have three beautiful nieces (Stephanie, 9, Nicole, 8, and Olivia, 6…going on 16), and a handsome nephew (Kevin, 11), and I love spending time with all of them.  This day, I would have the joy and challenge of babysitting for Nicole and Olivia.

What should I do? Admittedly, I didn’t have much of a plan.  When I arrived I said, “So, how about we go to the kids section at Borders.”  They agreed, not with a whole lot of enthusiasm.  Once we arrived, we headed to the children’s section and I could tell that we’d be there for about six minutes–six-and-a-half minutes if I was lucky.  I thought to myself, “Oh boy, how am I going to drag this out without them getting bored.”  Then I had an epiphany: Toys R Us is close by! I had them choose one book each and we headed to the checkout line.

When we got back into the car they asked,  “Where are we going now?”  “It’s a surprise,” I said.  The next several minutes were filled with child-like anticipation.  As I approached the stop light they saw the Toys R Us sign, and the car filled with girlish, gleeful screaming.  “You’re the best uncle in the world!”  Score!  I knew that we’d be able to spend a good amount of time walking around the store, and I told them I’d buy them one toy each–provided it wasn’t too expensive.  As we left Toys R Us, Olivia excitedly proclaimed, “This is the best day of my life” (okay…so she was a bit excited and a little over-exagerating).  I couldn’t help but smile.

Next stop: Chuck E. Cheese.  I’d passed it as we were heading to Toys R Us and thought it would be one more fun place to go.  Since then, every parent that I’ve spoken to has given me the same response: “You’re crazy.  I hate that place.”  But what did I know; I’m just the priest-uncle.  I’d never been to Chuck E. Cheese–and hopefully will never go back–but the girls had a blast.  I loved watching them bounce around from game to game.  They even climbed through the plastic tunnel which hangs suspended from the ceiling.

Two hours and $40 later we headed back to meet their mother, and I sent them home spoiled and tired.

Jesus said, “Unless you become like little children, you cannot enter the Kingdom of Heaven.”  Spending those two hours with my nieces reminded me of the importance of being childlike.  They didn’t have a care in the world.  They just trusted that I would provide for them, that I would take care of them.  I saw them filled with wonder, anticipation, playfulness, and joy.  And for a couple of hours, I was taken out of my sometimes-selfish world to be taught that I can take life too seriously.  Jesus doesn’t call us to be childish, but He does invite us to be childlike.  Being childlike means living in simple trust, knowing that God will take care of us.  It means being able to enjoy the simple things in life.  It means having a sense of wonder, and even playfulness.  It means being able to laugh with others and at ourselves.

We can learn a lot about the spiritual life from little children if we are humble enough to let them teach us.  But I would suggest that you don’t have to go to Chuck E. Cheese to learn these lessons.

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How do you try to be childlike in your faith?
What spiritual lessons have you learned from little children?

P.S. I’m not sure why WordPress decided to change my blog appearance, but I’m going to work on getting a new template.

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I’ve come to see a pattern in many people who are trying to live a holy life: they strive for moral perfection, realize it is unachievable, give into discouragement, and then begin to strive again… Repeat cycle…  Truth be told, I’ve seen this pattern in my own life as well.

It’s this idea of striving, though, that seems to be the problem.  Dictionary.com defines the verb “to strive” as “to exert oneself vigorously; try hard.”  Striving is not bad in itself, but there’s a negative side to it.  For example, recently I’ve been striving to run more miles. However, there’s an interesting thing that happens in running: when I relax and let go, I find that my running is more enjoyable, that I get in the flow; but, when I strive to run well, I find that I get tired more quickly and even feel more pain.  Another example is the golf swing.  Grip a club tightly and swing really hard, and that little white ball isn’t going very far; however, loosen your grip and swing effortlessly, and that ball mysteriously flies farther than you thought you could hit it.

So what about our lives?  What if we stopped striving so hard for moral and spiritual perfection?  I know this sounds outrageous, particularly when we think of the words of Our Lord: “Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”  I’m not saying that we should be ambivalent about the moral and spiritual life; what I mean is what if we took a more relaxed, letting-go, approach to the moral and spiritual life?

I think that Psalms are instructive in this regard.  Psalm 131 reads, “I do not busy myself with great matters, with things to sublime for me.  Rather, I have stilled my soul, hushed it like a weaned child.  Like a weaned child on its mother’s lap, so is my soul within me.”  And Psalm 37 tells us to “Be still before the Lord; wait for God” (v. 7)

I think when we focus on striving, we make it about our own effort.  When we let go and surrender (like a weaned child on its mother’s lap), our focus is more on God’s love, on His desire to make us holy, on His grace.  Ultimately, it is God’s grace that perfects us, not our striving.  When we stop striving, we let ourselves be loved and we stop trying to earn God’s love.

I know I don’t have this whole letting-go approach figured out.  I’m not even sure I know how to stop striving.  I guess I’m just posing the question for our reflection.  Can we take a more relaxed, letting-go approach to the moral and spiritual life without being ambivalent?  I believe we can.

I’ll leave this post a bit open-ended… Feel free to add your thoughts…

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I ran my first 10-mile race on Friday and it was a phenomenally exhilarating experience.  There were almost three thousand people who raced, and the atmosphere was both festive and electric.  Many runners were there with family and friends; I actually went by myself, but was so impressed by the kindness of the runners.  I easily entered into conversation with several of them.  I guess when you’re with a group of people who have the same thing in common, it’s easy to relate to one another.  What inspired me the most were all the people who were cheering us on and encouraging us on the route.  At times, it was pouring rain, but the people were still out there encouraging us.  I was truly moved by their support.

So here are a few spiritual lessons I learned from my first 10-miler.

Slow and steady…to the finish
My goal for the race was simple: I wanted to run the whole race (no walking breaks), and cross the finish line.  To accomplish this, my plan was to go slow and steady.  I don’t run fast, and I don’t care.  I wasn’t out to win; just to finish strong.  The first mile I was caught up in the excitement and realized that I was running about 30 seconds faster than I wanted to be.  So, I consciously slowed down and reminded myself that I just wanted to finsih.  Slow and steady; that was my plan.  I finished the race in 1 hour and 47 minutes (a 10:42 pace).  I was very happy with that.

Spiritual lesson: it’s easy to get caught up in the rush of life and the frantic pace of those around us.  But life is so much more peaceful when we go slow and steady, doing our best to live in the moment.  I don’t think the Lord wants us to rush all the time.

We’re in this together
Admittedly, I was a little nervous going into the race.  I felt a little undertrained, and, truthfully, didn’t want to feel embarrassed telling people that I couldn’t finish because I was too tired or because I cramped up along the way.  As I anxiously waited to begin the race, I realized that many people were in the same boat.  I was with a bunch of people who simply enjoy running and wanted to finish the race.  I saw several people who had to take walking breaks; I even saw one young lady who needed to stop because her leg was cramping.  As I ran, I realized that we were a bunch of people, together, pacing ourselves to the finish line.  We were supporting one another.

Spiritual lesson: we all have doubts, fears, and weaknesses; but, ultimately, we’re all in this together and we all need to support one another.

Help is available
As I said, I was inspired by all those who came out to support us.  In the Book of Hebrews we read, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a crowd of witnesses, let us rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us, and persevere in running the race the lies before us while keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader and perfecter of faith” (12:1-2).  I thought of this scripture verse as I saw all the people cheering us on.  The runners in the race on Friday were surrounded by a crowd of witnesses encouraging us.  Don’t the saints in Heaven do the same for us?

Spiritual lesson: As we run the race to Heaven, keeping our eyes fixed on the Eternal Finish Line, the saints pray for us and encourage us to keep our eyes fixed on the Lord.  We should take advantage of the help they want to offer us.

So there you have it.  Lessons learned from my first 10-miler.  Next goal: the Hartford half marathon on October 9!

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I just enjoyed a wonderful 4th of July at my parent’s house with family and friends.  It was a typical Najim cookout: lots of people, lots of food, and lots of fun.  For all intents and purposes, this afternoon was the beginning of my summer reprieve.  I usually take some time in July to enjoy some rest and relaxation with friends.  Priests are never on vacation from priesthood; but, like most people, we do enjoy time away to recharge.

When the apostles returned from being sent out on mission by the Lord, Jesus said to them, “Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while” (Mark 6:31).  Jesus knew that the apostles were weary from ministry, so He invited them to rest. There is a place for leisure in the Christian life.  Leisure is meant to rejuvenate us so that we can embrace the joys and challenges of life with renewed vigor.

I hope you get some time to rest this summer.  Maybe you’re not going away, but, if you’re able, treat yourself and your family to some extra days off.  In the United States, we tend to feel that we need to work all the time.  Don’t give into this pressure!  Take Jesus’ advice and “rest a while.”

I most likely will not be posting for the next couple of weeks.  I want to take this opportunity to thank all of you for reading Live Holiness.  I feel so blessed to have connected with so many amazing people–Catholic and non-Catholic, from literally all over the world.  I’m grateful for your feedback, your prayers, and your encouragement.  Please know that I do pray for each of you.

God bless you, and continue to enjoy the summer!

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I have a confession to make: for years I’ve been a secret Pelagian.

If you haven’t studied Church history or don’t know much about the early Christian heresies, Pelagius was a 5th century monk who denied the doctrine of original sin and the need for God’s grace to live a holy life.  Basically, he believed that we can get to Heaven without God’s help.  This is known as Pelgianism.

They say the first step to recovery is admitting that you have a problem.  Well, I admit that even though I often talk a good game about surrender, there’s still a deep part of me that isn’t surrendered.  There’s that part of me that wants to fix myself.  There’s that part of me that’s too proud to admit that I need God’s help to live a virtuous life.  I want to control my life.

Yet, when I take a reflective step back, I must admit that this desire to fix myself and to control my life has led to great frustration and even sadness at times.  Why else would I peruse the self-help section every time I’m in Barnes and Noble, or why else would I spend time reading personal development blogs if I didn’t want to fix myself?

Now, I admit that I have benefitted from many “self-help” books and personal development blogs; however, the subtlety behind this pursuit of self-help is that I’m in control, that I can fix myself.

But the truth is I can’t fix myself; and you can’t fix yourself either.  Yes, we are good; but we are broken.  None of us is perfect; each of us experiences the effects of original sin.  I’m not saying that we should abdicate responsibility for our lives; what I’m saying is that there’s a reason why we call Jesus “Savior.”

How often people say to me, “Father, every time I go to confession I sound like a broken record.  I feel like I confess the same sins over and over.”  Well, join the human race.  I’m a broken record too.

When we try to fix ourselves we render the word “Savior” meaningless.  Jesus Christ is our Savior.  He came to save us from the sins that we struggle with every day.  He came to save us from ourselves.

I’m coming to see more clearly that each time I attempt to fix myself or to control my life, I empty the cross of its power (see 1 Corinthians 1:17).  When I realize I can’t fix myself, that there are some things that are just too big for me to overcome on my own power, that’s when I realize the power of the cross and God’s grace.

I realize that this is contrary to the do-it-yourself mentality that is so prevalent in our culture.  But, if you haven’t noticed, our culture is pretty broken as well.

I need a Savior.  It’s so liberating to say that.  I need a Savior.  I need Jesus.  I can’t fix myself…and it’s okay.  That’s why Jesus died for me.  I just need to learn to be still, to surrender, and to let Him love me, so that I can experience the power of His cross.

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As I write this I’m cruising at 30,000 feet on my way to Omaha, Nebraska to spend the week at the Institute for Priestly Formation (IPF) at Creighton University.  IPF is a wonderful program designed to help seminarians enter into a deeper relationship with the Holy Trinity.  There are 175 seminarians from all over the country that will spend ten weeks studying, praying, and doing volunteer work.

My flight was scheduled to leave Providence at 12:30, but due to bad weather in Detroit it was delayed by about an hour.  The delay almost made me miss my connection, but the pilot did a good job of “making up time in the air.”  On a side note, I’ve never figured that one out: if they can make up time in the air, why don’t they just increase the flight speed all the time to shorten all flights?

The short delay prompted me to ponder some life lessons:

God’s delays are not God’s denials
Recently, I was listening to some inspirational CDs and the speaker was talking about challenges.  He said that God’s delays are not God’s denials, meaning that sometimes the Lord allows things to happen in our lives to strengthen us; or sometimes the Lord doesn’t answer our prayer in the way or time that we would have it. It’s not that God is denying our request, but as our loving Father He knows what’s best for us.  Things happen for a reason, and it’s important for us to learn to live in His Divine Will and to trust that He knows what’s best for us.  It’s also a great lesson in perseverance.

Some things are beyond our control
At times I can be a control freak.  I want things to happen my way and in my time.  But life isn’t that easy.  Each day we experience things that are beyond our control.  This is an important lesson in surrender. Knowing that certain things are beyond our control can help us to surrender more to God’s will.  If we approach each day knowing that God is in control, then we can live with more peace.

Choosing peace and calm is better than giving into anger and impatience
I usually have good luck traveling, and even if I have bad luck I’ve learned to remain calm.  Somehow over the years, with God’s help, I’ve learned to manage my fiery Italian and Lebanese temperament. If you travel at all, you’ll notice that not everyone takes kindly to travel disruptions.  I’ve been blessed to travel quite a bit, and I’ve seen some pretty serious tantrums in airports.  In February, I witnessed a woman in Heathrow Airport in London throwing a serious fit.  She was on a rampage, and it was very uncomfortable for all to witness.  She may have had reason to be upset, but her behavior was completely out of control and it affected everyone around her.  I truly felt bad for the man who I think was her husband.  He looked like he wanted to run away–and he very well may have after they landed!  My experience is that when I give into anger and impatience I never feel as good as when I remain in a state of peace and calm. Remember, some things are beyond our control.

So there you have it, a few spiritual lessons learned from a short flight delay.  For now I’m going to power off as we make our decent.  There’s a cute baby with an adorable smile two seats in front of me.  In a few minutes, she’ll most likely be wailing from ear pain.  But that’s another lesson for another blog…

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Life consists of rest and activity; it’s rhythmic.  The heart beats repetitively.  We inhale and exhale.  We work and rest.  We sleep and wake.  Day after day.  Rest and activity.  A rhythm.

Creation, too, is rhythmic: the sun rises and sets, light and darkness; the seasons change, year after year.

As I get older, I am becoming more aware of the rhythm of my life.  I live in a seminary with over twenty college-aged men, and so there tends to be constant activity during the academic year.  But now that summer has arrived there is more silence in the house.  This is part of the rhythm of my life.

I notice in my ministry that there are times when I feel overwhelmed with all-out-busyness, and then there are times when it’s quieter.  I’ve often struggled with guilt during the quiet times, giving into the lie that if I’m not busy then I’m not being productive.  We’ve somehow convinced ourselves that we have to be busy all the time.  Is it so that we can feel important? Is it a diversion?  But I digress…

Yes, life is about rest and activity; it’s rhythmic.  Part of this rhythm, I have found, includes peaks and valleys.  If you look at an EKG (or ECG: electrocardiogram), you will see peaks and valleys.  If, for a moment, you try to see your life as an EKG, you will also notice peaks and valleys.

Peaks and valleys are built into life.  Most of us have experienced euphoria and depression (maybe not clinical, but at least the feeling).

I have my peaks and valleys.  I experience prolonged times of peace when the sailing is smooth, and I experience prolonged ruts when I feel like I’m in the midst of a storm and just can’t seem to get my bearings.

So to offer you advice about peaks and valleys I turn once again to our friend, St. Ignatius.  Simply put, he encouraged us to keep an equilibrium.  When we are experiencing a peak (consolation), we should remember that we’ll eventually enter a valley; and when we’re in a valley (desolation), we should remember the experience of being on the peak–and firmly believe that we’ll be on the peak soon.

For me, when I’m going through a valley (or a rut, or whatever you want to call it), I simply remember God’s track record: He’s never let me down.  I always seem to get through it.  Sometimes that’s all I tell myself: You’ll get through it, Michael; the Lord always gets you through it; He never lets you go; just sit tight and it will pass, maybe not today or tomorrow or next week, but it will pass.

Okay, so this isn’t what you wanted to hear.  Maybe you were looking for some awe-inspiring advice, a magic formula that will keep you out of the valleys forever.  Sorry.  I don’t have it for you.  We need to be optimistic, but we also need to be realistic.  Life is rhythmic.  Rest and activity.  Peaks and valleys.  Sometimes we just need to remind ourselves that the Lord will get us through it.  And He will, if we pray and trust Him.

As my mother likes to say, “This too shall pass.”

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