What Love Is... And What It Is Not...

Love is not happiness. Love is joy.

Joy has an interesting quality to it. It doesn't just have a simple relational aspect, like emotions such as happiness. Joy lives outside of both the emotional and rational spheres. It speaks to heart and head simply because it can. It speaks because true joy has Hope wrapped in it. Yet, "Hope that sees is not hope at all," so, it must also has Faith contained therein. Even more, if Faith has not works—works of charity—then Faith is dead. Therefore, too, Joy has Love, True Love contained therein.

However, the interesting thing about Love is that it requires the depths of sacrifice and self-giving with purpose. It must have an ordered purpose, or else it flies off the tracks of life into ruin. It becomes a fiery chariot racing towards the Sun, only to make its fiery crash to the depths of the earth, a fiery demise. This demise is seen everyday as "normal" and acceptable. Nothing could be further from the Truth.

If there is anything that I can learn from this experience of witnessing fiery demises on a personal level, of being a product of a fiery demise, I would stress the need for authenticity of hearts. I pray for those entering the marital arena. How much do we need the Domestic Church!

And what about Marriage? Why should we be worried on how we define it?

Because our very existence as a People depend on it. We do not exist without it.

Love does not seek quick fixes, does not quit at the first at bat, does not throw in the towel when it gets uncomfortable. Love does not fail the Other. Authentic Love requires a vow. It cannot exist outside a vow. It must subsist in a vow because, without it, love is merely a shadow of its meaning. It is icing without the cake.

This is what is strange about our society today, from our secular to church society. It demands all these things: quick fixes, no-fault verdicts, dissoluble definitions, dissoluble unions, dissoluble meanings of what a vow is. It is not quick fix. Love is not a quick fix.

Love is not merely a promise, and therefore marriage is not just a promise. It is a lifetime choice. A vow gives the love its permanence, its value as a currency. "I love you until death do us part," has a lot more permanence than "I love you until I no longer feel love for you." That, my friends, is crackle of Confederate money, a false currency. It cannot subsist on itself. It dies a ignoble death in the dark, cold and alone. Love does not burn out. It sets the world afire.

The difference between a vow and a promise is just that, promises are made to broken. Vows, on the other hand, cannot. They are the bonds, the marks of the One who gives breath to us all. We cannot escape our vows when the going gets rough. We cannot escape True Love.

Why then do priests who are given strong crosses to bear become Black Sheep Dogs or abusive priests muddy the waters of the Priesthood? Why do men and women forsake their avowed Vocations? Why do husbands cheat on their wives? Because they know not the depth of the vows to which they previously assented to. They do not mean the Yes that they spoke at the Beginning.

We are told by Christ: "Let your 'Yes' mean 'Yes,' and your 'No' mean 'No.' Anything more is from the evil one." (Matthew 5:37) "Anything more" is what we have today. It is not love; it is an excuse for love.

It's saddening, but it is not the final answer. It is not the end.

The Domestic Church and the Priesthood both require a sacrifice that the World today doesn't recognize. The World would rather redefine both to a temporary nature, ones that live on whims. Whims do not last; they have no continence. They die.

True Love never dies.

Both marriage and the priesthood require sacrifice. Both require the Other in inseparable ways, one for the Witness of earthly union and the other of Divine. Neither can be divorced from the other. Both require True Love. Both require the Cross.

That is the meaning of "I do."

A Reflection on the Eternal

Something caught my attention one Sunday morning at Mass, and I found myself seeing a little more into a moment, as I am wont to do. My sightline during the consecration passed through two friends praying together as a couple. And I cannot stress how significant I say "as a couple."

As the Mass is the representation of His Sacrifice at Calvary, I have seen before St. John and the Blessed Mother at the Cross before as in a historical flash of vision. However, here, I had seen something unique to this graced view to extrapolate it to something equally relevant: to seeing it in our times. All of this, as though it is dramatizing the Word given to us and giving us a dramatization of Gospel through the representation of the Mass.

As I mentioned, "as a couple" for me brings a significance to this grace I was given to see. For in this grace, they were an unwitting witness to hope. And, though they might not have understood the personal significance of this to me, my gratitude for this moment is present even until now.

Furthermore, the scene even now speaks of something greater being intertwined in a synergy I cannot even fathom to fully describe on earth. Yet, this has a great significance, because even as the priest is in persona Christi, we are inasmuch "in persona" to others as well, and this is certainly very good.

Indeed, we can say "Lord, it is very good to be here"... and say we ought to set a tent here and never leave. Yet, we do leave... not out of lack of love but because of an even deeper love! And again, I rest on those words "as a couple" because it is important to see it not as a degradation of a better gift, but a unique one in itself to reflect His love "in persona" in other, but no less valuable, ways—through, with and in His Sacred Heart.

That grace given me is, in part, a prayer for both of them on their journey ahead. I pray that His grace remains present ahead, even in the struggle as much as the strength of building together a new life as one.

As iron sharpens iron, I pray for unceasingly for the blessed race ahead. It makes an unspoken "Yes" more present through a witness that is a reflection of the Eternal. Deo gratias.

L'Angelus: Lac Bijou

I am wholly convinced if the world listened to and lived by this song, all of the world's problems would melt away. Then again, I am quite possibly a perennial optimist... or a melancholic who is a lazy perfectionist, a morning person if it weren't for morning. You see, since this song is, by definition, in music form I, a lazy perfectionist, would strive to put it simply to words alone, and still I would be up until morning (coffee-fueled jitters an all) trying to place each musical movement to words. Yet, this is the beauty of music... it means another whole world from one person to the next. It is the universal language.

And the strange thing is... I still try.


L'Angelus - Lac Bijou

Rush Upon Me

O distant dream, O rushing current,
Spirit of the Lord rush upon me...
That each of us do see the gifts given,
The Love in opening our eyes to see
The Vocation given to each of us to be.

We shared a dance or two that night before
With music of angels, of joy, of life below...
Awakening our hearts a joy from before,
Opening our hearts to wisdom, to joy, to love bestowed.

O distant dream, O rushing current,
Spirit of the Lord, rush upon me...
Let me see the Vocation to be given to me.
Spirit of the Lord, rush upon me.

Give me the strength to be;
Give me the strength I need.
Spirit of the Lord, rush upon me.

An Easter Joy

At every step He has given, to each of us a gift, a passion to share. We need only to uncover it, discover it, and recover what has been given to each of us. It is love, it is love, my dear friend, it is love. Indeed, we are an Easter people, one without fear if we do not take it to be. And how do we at times take it to be only darkness! It is not!

How then are we to care? If not with passion after the Sacred Heart of Jesus? He has risen! He has risen—for us He has risen! It is Easter morn, and all is as it should be! Find him on the Roadside, the Inn, the one in your midst! He is there among your brothers and sisters. He is there!

The Son has broached the Horizon; He has met the horizontal with the vertical. The Eternal He has given us. He has crossed the chasm we as a People have caused between God and Man. What joy, the Cross, the Holy Cross of Christ! The fault so happy as to result in receiving such a sweet Saviour as He! What cannot then impassion us with true love!

I implore you, dear friend, now is the time to let Love reign! He is King, King forever! True Love has come to reign, in hearts and homes. He has come to reign. What sweet words to come off of a pair of weary lips: "He has come; He has risen!"

Let us rejoice with the Angels and the Saints this day. He has risen!

Happy Easter!

The Christian Romantic

I realized that at every one of my pleadings to our Lord that a simple submission is best summed into the words "I accept"... this is not a victory march. No, it's a long, tiresome journey home. It is through our little sufferings that He does His most work, not through the pompous processions. We weren't redeemed by a victory march; we were redeemed by a long, burdensome trek to Calvary. That is how much He loved us. Let us return the favor, as little we can.

And that is where I am with my journey and this blog. For me, it has morphed into something more than just a place to put my musings. It is something to let whatever has been given to me to fall as it may as He deigns it to touch those it needs to touch as He, not I, may wish. And this is where the former of the new title comes from, the credo.

And so the title is together Credo et Accipio—"I Believe and I Accept." This is my rallying point and cry forward, into the the darkness that abounds.

Some days all that can be mustered in this persistent fog of the Shadowlands are the words "I believe..." but even this is enough for Him, for they are not simple idle words. They are words worked out in fear and trembling before Him who is the Giver of all Gifts.

These times can be described as one of constant rain and dreariness, but something keeps the home fires burning that can't be described, something of love, of peace, of nearness of spirit. If grace cannot be described as this, no other sentiment has its worth. It may be raining outside and dreary, but something keeps the home fires burning. It's a grace-filled longing surrounded by joy.

As I have heard elsewhere, we must focus not on the darkness in the people we meet or the darkness in ourselves. Rather, we are to look to the Light that is within, buried as it were, ready to be taken out from the tomb, from beneath the bushel basket. It needs to be seen; see it.

At every step there is temptation. And all of us have fallen. But we must remember to get back up, get ourselves dusted off and remain on the road to Calvary. Pick up our mat, our cross, and walk. It's a long journey. We will carry on.

This is the heart of the Christian who is ultimately also a romantic in the end because the end is Love. He binds us to His Word and carries us from the desert into the Promised Land of our fathers, one of eternal life with Him. How can this faith not be seen as romantic! Truly, truly it is one of love.

"There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear because fear has to do with punishment, and so one who fears is not yet perfect in love. We love because he first loved us." 1 John 4:18-19

And yet, we confuse not only love in the present day but so also fear, the reverential fear of the greatness of Him and smallness of us. We have lost both in society and in culture. We rename what was once love as too much and focus inward, not outward. We take, but we do not give. How can we fight the impostors of both love and fear? Through prayer, through right example, through love as He loved us. This is the cooperation we are called to with His mission, and with it we become imperfect instruments of love.

We are given this perfect love to share, but this gift doesn't make it easy for us to share it. He is the perfect example and thus the one to emulate. Christ is the mediator... but then where are we? Where do we let our doubts enter in? How do we let them in? By entertaining them. Perhaps we should take the words of St. Pio of Pietrelcina to heart:

"Stop entertaining those vain fears. Remember it is not feeling which constitutes guilt but the consent to such feelings. Only the free will is capable of good or evil. But when the will sighs under the trial of the tempter and does not will what is presented to it, there is not only no fault but there is virtue."

There is no escaping doubt. Jesus had it in Gethsemane. John and the Virgin Mary at the Cross. The Apostles who scattered. The Church yesterday. The Church today. The one thing that keeps everyone going is the Church of Tomorrow. Faith fills the void that doubt leaves in its shadows and, with it, brings Light.

Let us bring Light to those in darkness.

But then how?

"When our hands have touched spices, they give fragrance to all they handle. Let us make our prayers pass through the hands of the Blessed Virgin. She will make them fragrant." - St. John Vianney

We do it through the support of one another, through the communion He has given us with Him, His mother, and His angels and His saints. The key in understanding it all is that we are not alone. That through the Blessed Virgin Mary we understand our role from the first disciple in her fiat to the Lord's plans, even though "she was greatly troubled" at first. Her words "be it done unto me according to thy word" become ours, and in them we are bound even closer to Christ.

God is the giver of all gifts. The problem isn't with the number of them; it's the recognition of them. The greatest gifts are often the smallest, not because they are grandest, but rather because they hold the greatest potential for flourishing. The giftedness from God has nothing to do with quantity; it has everything to do with perspective. It's in this that God shows us His infinite mercy and His infinite love.

Even so, there isn't enough joy to fill the current sorrow, and there will never be enough joy to erase the sorrow of the past. We must fully understand the reason for pain if we are to ever know fully of the joy to be given to us. We must love without strings attached.

Speak to the Truth in your presence. Leave no heart in the cold. Give warmth and, in turn, that warmth will be returned. Above all, don't leave your talents buried. Don't be a foolish servant. He gives them to you to be used, to serve others and serve Him. That is the heart of a Christian Romantic.


"For it is good to hide the secret of a king: but honourable to reveal and confess the works of God." - Tobias 12:7

A Poet Lost

I am a poet lost in a world of prose.
I am a dreamer stuck in a world of logicians.
Without joy, without fun, I am a poet lost,
   lost in world without a sun.
I am a poet lost in world of prose.

I am a poet found in a world without roses.
I am a dreamer lost in a world of thinkers.
With clouds, with thunder, I am a dreamer stuck,
   stuck in world without wonder.
I am a poet found in a world without roses.
I am a poet lost in a world of prose.

Let Love Be

My heart busies about as a moth before a flame;
shaped and muffled it turns over and over again.

From one concern to another,
fighting the fights and sealing the shames,
of a journey that has yet to be named.

Clarity and then shadows fall into place,
where hearts filled not with love,
come home to reign.

Would love be easier if not challenged by struggle,
or is it the struggle that wins victory's name?

Nay, it is victory all the same.
Let love be not a game.

Finding a Home, Finding an Identity

How does one describe being from New Orleans? Of the City's intrinsic beauty, its pride, its excitement, its devotion to a team and to a Faith? Can things such as this be quantified or measured? Can it be snuffed out, washed to sea, blown away? Can anyone defeat such a Joy in Life as well as in death, where death is no time for mourning but celebrating the Past? The answer is found in the embodiment of a team that isn't just a team, it's part of the intrinsic nature of New Orleans. The Saints are New Orleans. And New Orleans is the Saints. Summed up in so many words: WHO DAT!

And this is what is interesting above all about New Orleans: a paradoxical love and a faith that withstands every countenance of despair and attempt of shedding. It is found in a city that weaves in a faith not blind to life, but rather one lived inside of it. It is neighbor helping neighbor. It is the yearly Carnival celebrations beside one's fellow neighbor that, indeed, they've survived another hurricane season. It is celebrations of the Saints win or lose (but especially with the wins).

Places of childhood do not leave one's mind—not the good or the bad, not the ugly or the indifferent. So it is with me—yet the last thing New Orleans will leave you as is indifferent. Not even hurricanes, which wipe off many markers of the past, or man-made engineering disasters, which finish off where Mother Nature began her work, not even these disasters will tear from memory these mementos of days gone by. New Orleans is altogether different, another category altogether.

The place has a way of instilling both a pride of place and a sadness of when progress has been stopped, delayed, or hampered. It breeds la joie de vivre and disappointment. It is a city that is far from perfect, but it is one of distinctiveness that all who are associated with it take great pride in. It is an identity that no hurricane or distance can dissipate.

It is a city that has been, since its inception, a city to be documented, but not only documented but also lived. It is a city to live vicariously in, whether it is of the past, present, or the future. They are all contained within the ramparted streets of that unique leveed city. Once you are there, you never truly depart.

One always has a piece of the city whether you've been there a day, a year, or a lifetime. The only difference is that when you move away, you become an ambassador of that spirit of life shared. It speaks to the soul like no other place in world can. And sometimes, when the voices get to be too many, one cannot realize this until it is the only voice to remain from the sprawl and noise of another place, a place where all things are manufactured and not grown, a place where the façade is the only thing present.

Yet, one's ambassadorship remains, as though one is left in a second-rate hotel room waiting out the exile to return home. It is a strange love affair that New Orleans breeds. One that remains as thick as the humid air of that river city and remains despite all odds.

More now than ever does New Orleans and the Gulf Coast need its ambassadors. Love affairs do not end once the beloved is gone, they only grow stronger. And, in it, the bonds of those who traveled those hallowed streets, celebrated its unique joy, and lived in those homes now rebuilt but not forgotten can be remembered, renewed, and represented to others as a reminder of the ones who did not make it out of the surly floodwaters or the strong headwinds of the Gulf, of the ones who survived Katrina those five years ago this day if only as a memory to our hearts, to our Louisiana.



If any song will bring me back to Louisiana... if songs had the power to do such things... this one would be it. Louisiana will always be home to me with New Orleans as its heart, wrapped in a faith true.

God bless New Orleans, the state of Louisiana, and the whole Gulf Coast as we mark this fifth anniversary of the Storm that did not break the will of people of the Gulf Coast. It may have washed the shores of a challenged land, but its people will not waver. Its people will not retreat. Its people will prosper and rebuild and renew a place, a face of what is best about America. God bless Louisiana.

I said...

I said a lot of things.
I said, "We are friends and that's okay,
that the silence, the distance would be fine."

But really I said,
"No, please don't go, don't leave when day is done,
don't give me a reason to let you go.
I love you but must let you go.
I love you; I love you so."

Is this a lie? To let things go?
Or is it truth to let things that are impossible
fly on down the road?
Yes, our roads converged once,
a spark of inspiration, of drive,
of mutual compassion once...
but now... only distance, silence.
What of this? What of this silence?

I said a lot of things,
but I was never silent.
I gave my silence to Him,
in hopes I was doing the right thing.
My words to Him went unceasing.
It was a gift I want now to return,
but love doesn't settle that way.
It remains; it sticks to heart and hands
     like an adhesive.
It doesn't return until it has fulfilled its aim and duty.
It is with purpose as I am to be with purpose.
Its aim is my aim:
to care when caring isn't something fun to do,
to smile when smiling isn't what I want to do,
to listen but not speak...

However, one thing I did not say to you,
were the words, those words: "I love you."
Why? Because I wasn't supposed to.
But I do, I do love you.

Waiting

Breath, each precious breath
Enters with each beat,
Each beat of desire,
Hearts yearning in desire...
One heart, one heart for now...

Beat, each precious beat
Takes its place within,
Each beat to give rhythm to the world,
Witness to the world, Love to the world,
Witness to Love, Love of Loves.

Look, each precious look,
The longing for something more—
More than self, More than one—
Two into one, external of the Eternal—
Love beyond bounds, Love of Loves.

Beat, each precious beat,
Yearning of Other, Other in self,
Grace of sign to something more,
More than self in self,
Love beyond self, Love of Loves.

Breath, each precious breath,
Waiting on the Other,
Waiting to witness to the Love,
To the Love found Here,
Love of Three Hearts, Love of Loves.

Waiting on...
               The Love of Loves.

On the Laity, Sanctity in Marriage, and the Mission to the Secular World

It is not the rejection of the world but the redemption of it. We must baptize all things to Christ. There is no difference between a Catholic chair or an un-Catholic chair, or a Catholic table and an un-Catholic table. So it is with a Catholic home. All homes are first catholic. What matters are not its contents, but rather the actions and the beliefs of the hearts within.

Many have seen Catholic homes that are Catholic in word only. And, likewise, un-Catholic homes devoid of anything to pin it to a catholicity, and yet in truth they are catholic. What can be said of the Catholic broken home? Much! Not only does it fail the first test, that of belief, but also the second—action. It is "very good" enough to assent to the belief handed on from antiquity but in truth is not the case if the action proceeding fails to live the credo out. Where is the redemption of the world?

The answer then is not to reject it outright. It is to redeem it, to baptize it to Christ. And there the family—intact and whole—is most needed. It is here that the first missionary acts are borne; it is here that the first transmission of faith, of credo is given. As milk from the mother is this done, and here the father is most important in the role to daughter and son. It is here, most often, the child will receive the fire of His love, of Christ's indomitable love. And so too is this true with the mother as the seat of compassion. Where are our holy saints of happy marriage? Where are the saints of marital bliss?

Heroic virtue is first born in the home, like faith a grace-filled gift, always a gift with a purpose. So why not the saints of the home?

Many have been born out of home a vocation of sanctity. Namely among them, St. Augustine, whose own sainthood one could argue was born out of the prayers of his mother, she too now called "Saint."

One cannot doubt heroic virtue to be born out of, or rather, in spite of, broken homes, unhappy marriages. This much is true, but never has such an example of sanctity has been recorded that such a tested soul takes the helm too to the unsteady waters of the earthly sign of Heaven's Banquet. No, this is rarefied air. But is God intending this to be so? I wager not.

What a sign for the world would this be! Indeed, it would be a credo worth believing. Heroic virtue found not only in strife but also prosperity, would this not be classified as territory of a friend of God, too? This is not solely of the Catholic domain. It is a uniquely human desire, hope, and dream. However, this is not merely a dream; this too can be a reality.

This can be captured through the gift of faith, yes, but how is the faith to be nourished? From scraps and left-overs? I think not! We must have an educated laity. This means the resources of books, libraries, radio, and television must be renewed! The excuse of never having being done before or of others not doing the same must not be the excuse! "Either we accuse ourselves or we excuse ourselves," St. John Vianney once said, so too in this case. Let us not excuse a lack of zeal and haste to this aim.

We must renew our parishes to being a center of knowledge, of faith, of sacraments, and of wisdom. The Mass must be nourished!

Why not a library of faith for instruction into that which is sublimely beautiful, all-encompassing, and most needed and beneficial? The Mass cannot itself teach or merely preach. Its action provides an example which is incomprehensible if not without a guide. Let this be the writings of Christian antiquity, to stir us renewed in our one true faith! The Word made flesh dwells among us!

The Half-way House of our Lord is made known through all the vocations but especially in the breaking of the bread. It is here too that the family plays a crucial role! Where are we placing "the breaking of the bread" in our families' lives? Are we even getting the proper idea of breaking the bread? If not, then let us renew this too and truly "ita missa est" into the world. This is where all vocations, all calls to sanctity and sainthood begin!

This is our call to living as laity enriched by the faith, sanctifying marriage and its bonds, and being true missionaries to the secular world.

Finding Home

Come back, come back to who you are.
Come back, to love and grace.
Come to the Banquet of all banquets—
Come back Home.

Come to the Water, the Living Water.
Come without fear, come with Hope.
Come to find the Truth in the Unveiling—
Come back Home.

Come to Love, to the Love that satisfies.
Come to the authentic nature of our hearts.
Come to search the hearts of so many—
Come back Home.

Find the Way back, back to...
The way back to love.
Search your heart, there...
There it is—Home.

Find the love,
Find the peace,
You are there—
You are Home.

The Court Jester

I think I'm just here...
          here for entertainment purposes
                  for the little things.

You'll send me where all...
          where all the court jesters go...
                  somewhere else...

And you'll find someone new to entertain you...
          to entertain you with baubles and bright things,
                  silly things that are trifles
                  and nothing terrible...
                  the beautiful things.

What if 'yes' was 'yes'
          and 'no' was no longer 'no'
                  and there were no maybes,
                             simply... simply 'yes.'
                                         "Yes, I accept."

Where would that bring us?
          Where would we go?
                   Would you go?
                         Maybe so?
                    There you go.
 Maybe, maybe, maybe so.

Is anything ever clear,
clear to sight,
clear to touch,
clear without any other fight?

Can there be a world without games,
without fights,
without things hidden in plain sight?

Can we go to this place,
not for my sake, no...
for the life we ought to live.
A life of 'yes,' without fear
A life full of beauty, without so many tears
A life of truth and worth living.
A life without court jesters,
A life with only mystics here.

Fearless Love

Love, O Love without fear—
Where do You stand, O Love—
Where do I stand with You?
With love, shield my heart from fear.

Love, defining life and search,
Defining journey in every step,
In every step of life and heart,
Every beat of the Rhythm of Life.

Fearlessness—finding faith in darkness,
Hope without the Other in sight,
Love when all remains so empty,
Fearlessness in every step lit by lamp.

Love in perfection, Love in Truth,
Wait on my broken heart for my love,
Wait on my very compassion—that it may be my own,
Wait that I may truly love You,
Love in fearlessness, Fearless Love,
Perfect Love—You.