A Little Birdie Told Me

In the 13th century, it's said that Francis spoke to animals. In the 21st century, I'm going to speak through one.

In the 13th century, it’s said that Francis spoke to animals. In the 21st century, I’ve chosen to speak through one.

Advances in technology, and the invention of social media networks provide  an incredible way to connect with countless people around the world with a click of a button. No longer must we travel from town to town shouting at strangers in order to share our thoughts; now, we can shout at them from the comfort of our own homes!

Over the years, I have used Facebook and this blog as a way of sharing my life with friends, family, and strangers with a depth that would have otherwise been impossible without these connections. Keeping with this value, and recognizing the signs of the times, I have added a new medium to my modes of communication: Twitter.

I realize that it hasn’t completely caught in the way that Facebook has, but with over 500 million registered users and 58 million tweets per day, it’s here to stay. Despite being resistant at first, I have found it to be a positive and surprisingly effective way to communicate great things, with a large number of people, very quickly. In 140 characters or less, multiple times a day, I get messages from people that inspire me, make me laugh, and inform me of the world’s happenings, and am able to share all these things with others.

If you’ve tried it yourself and you like it, follow me @friarcasey; if you haven’t tried it and are looking for an excuse to give it a try, here’s your chance to know something new and say, “A little birdie told me.”

 Posted on October 3, 2013 by

 News

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A Priest, or Just a Brother?

In Christ, we are all one: Jew and Greek, slave and free, male and female, priest and lay.

In Christ, we are all one: Jew and Greek, slave and free, male and female, priest and lay.

I was walking through campus the other day when I was stopped by an inquisitive student, who, unbeknownst to him, was about to receive way more in an answer than he ever intended in his question. The question went something like this:

“Hey Brother! You are a brother, right? [Yes I am. My name is Casey, nice to meet you.] So will you stay just a brother, or will you become something else?”

Meant to be a completely innocuous, friendly question, a question that I’m sure many of you have asked yourself, I didn’t take offense at it because I knew that it was asked out of a genuine desire to understand. That being said, I decided to make it a teaching moment:

“You know,” I said with smile so as to assure him that I meant no harm, “That is actually quite an offensive question to some friars. You see, we as friars like to emphasize equality in our fraternities, and each of us takes our vocation as ‘brother’ very seriously.  To be ‘just’ a brother implies that being ordained a priest or deacon makes a friar’s vocation or status more important than a friar who is not. We simply do not see our brotherhood in this way.”

Being a friar is a commitment that defines who we are and how we live; it says nothing about what we do as a profession. Some friars have been identified publicly as ordained ministers and therefore do sacramental work, but other friars work as teachers, painters, chaplains, spiritual directors, writers, principles, accountants, justice and peace advocates, caretakers, administrators, tradesmen, groundskeepers, counselors, and musicians. These professions no doubt add another layer to one’s personal identity.  There’s no denying that. But what I’d like to argue is that our primary identity is our vocation as friars, and that what we do, while important while we’re doing it, is secondary and altogether temporary.

To me, it’s like the identity of a mother within a household. Would anyone ever dare ask a mother, “Are you going to stay ‘just a mother’ or will you become something else?” Sure, she may have a profession, and that profession may be a very highly respected one.  Within the context of her household, however, her being “CEO” or “librarian” has no effect on the primary relationship she has with the rest of the family. She is first and foremost “mother.”

It’s my opinion, just like the mother who is always a mother but only a CEO when at work, that we as friars are always brothers, and only acting in persona christi, that is, set apart from the rest of the congregation as a stand-in for Christ, when we are performing priestly duties. The fact that a friar is ordained should bear absolutely no weight within a fraternity in regards to duties, responsibilities, privileges, or respect, outside of his duties directly related to sacramental ministry. At all other times, he is called to a life of humility and mutuality with each of his brothers, always remembering that his vows are the same as everyone else’s.

In this way, I am always reminded of the funny, and yet powerful question one of our friars often asks new or perspective guys: “So, are you going to be a brother, or just a priest?” In one sense, it is a comical deflection of a potentially frustrating situation that helps to ease any tensions. In another, it helps to capture the core priorities of our charism: Are you going to remain faithful to your fraternity and all of its needs, or are you going to leave your brothers behind to pursue “better” opportunities? As I continue to feel myself called to ordained ministry as a priest in the Catholic Church, I must remind myself of this question daily. No matter where God may lead me in terms of ministerial duties, I still have a duty to be humble, present, and responsible for all of my brothers.

For another perspective on this topic, I suggest reading this article written by my classmate, Br. Ramon Razon, ofm, who has accepted a call to be a religious brother.

 3 Comments

 Posted on September 27, 2013 by

 Fraternity, Vows

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A Chance To Teach, Learn

This film is one of the teaching tools I will be using this year. It's actually quite good!

This film is one of the teaching tools I will be using this year. It’s actually quite good!

While in school, simply professed friars like myself are given the opportunity to get experience in ministerial settings. Each year we’re assigned to a different ministry, and the ministry opportunities are far and wide. There have been catechists, hospital chaplains, retreat coordinators, prayer group leaders, peace and justice advocates, visitors to nursing homes and a many more that I am simply unaware of. The purpose is to get us out of our studies and into the real world, to interact with people and to hone our pastoral skills.

One of the areas that I has caught my attention over the past few years has been religious education, both of children and adults. I won’t say that Catholics don’t know their faith, as some would posit, but I will say that Catholics are much less confident in their knowledge of their faith than others because they possess a very different skill-set than our Protestant brothers and sisters. As I see it, It would not take much to give people the tools they need to be active and confident sharers of their faith, and most of all, interested to continue learning even after the requirements are over.

Thus, this year I have chosen to be a religious education teacher at St. Camillus Church, helping out with their newly reorganized faith formation program. Put simply, there are two categories of courses for teenagers and I am teaching one of each. The first category is called Confirmation Prep and it is designed for students that have been in religious education in some form for many years and are ready for confirmation. There’s a high expectation for classroom assignments, memorization of prayers and teachings, and a general grounding in faith that is meant to be matured and matured.

The RCIY (Rite of Christian Initiation for Youth) class on the other hand is for students who are being introduced to religious education or church for the first time. Because there’s no guarantee as to how much any student will know coming in, and the fact that many students are probably a bit apprehensive about being around church, this group is much less of a class than it is quality time with teenagers. In fact, for these students, I am refraining from ever using the word “class” to describe our time together as it presents a very negative image to many of the students, and it doesn’t adequately describe what it is we hope to accomplish. Ultimately, our goals with these students is to 1) introduce them to church through community building and personal relationships, and 2) provide them with a basic understanding of our Catholic faith with the hope that they will continue on in their journey, wherever it may be at the moment.

Splitting the classes up in this way helps to meet the needs of everyone involved without exclusion for sure, but from a teaching standpoint, it also offers the opportunity to have two wonderfully different experiences of faith formation. At this point, everything is very new, and there’s still a lot that needs to be worked out as far as curriculum goes, but the whole experience is very exciting. Obviously the teaching aspect will be a great test of my interpersonal and organizational skills, but the opportunity to walk with teenagers in their faith journey, whether it be a first introduction to Jesus or developing an adult faith, is a tremendous blessing. In no way am I delusional enough to think that it will be an easy time, but what worthwhile experience is? I’ll keep you posted.

 1 Comment

 Posted on September 19, 2013 by

 Ministry, Post-Novitiate

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Why I Wear My Habit: Everything I Forgot To Say

Despite my last post being the longest entry so far, I realized after speaking with a number of people, embarrassingly enough, that I forgot a few key points that I wanted to make. I mentioned quite briefly that wearing the habit makes me a better person, but failed to mention exactly why I believe that. I mentioned that the habit is a sign that is not only external, but also internal, but failed to fully explain what that sign represents. So, without further adieu, I give you part two of “why I wear my habit.”

Francis' habit may have changed a bit through the years, but I believe that it can still be relevant.

Francis’ habit may have changed a bit through the years, but I believe that it can still be relevant.

A Habit of Penance

Most embarrassingly about my last post is that I did not once use the words penance, simplicity, or poverty. These are major oversights on my part, as they are at the very core of what it means to be a Franciscan, and among the primary reasons for wearing the habit.

You see, Francis and his charism are all about conversion. Once the son of a wealthy merchant, Francis wore clothing that was expensive and flashy, full of color and drastically distinct from that of the peasant class. When he decided to leave the world behind, he dramatically stripped naked in the town square, renouncing all that he had once believed to have possessed, and put on instead a new habitus, that is, the status and way of life, of the poor. At that time in Assisi, the poor would have worn cheap, colorless and mended together fabrics, and for Francis, would have been the drastic external sign to represent his drastic internal conversion.

The habit, however, was much more than simply an external sign, a point that I hastily made at the end of the last post. In reality, the fabric would have been terrible uncomfortable, insufficient in protecting one from the elements, and unlike the habit of today, completely identifiable with the most rejected and repulsive people of society: the poor and diseased. To wear such clothing has an obvious external effect, but the day-to-day internal effect is what is key here. Wearing a habit was a constant reminder to the friars that they were poor, downtrodden, superior to no one, dependent on God and neighbor, simple, and most of all, sinners that sought to do penance.

Today, as I mentioned, the habit has evolved into something slightly different. For some, unfortunately, it has come to be a source of power and authority, respect, affluence, and judgment. I know that people wear it for this purpose, and I completely understand those who choose not to wear it as a reaction to such an abuse.

But as I mentioned in the last post, the possibility of abuse and the changing nature of the habit does not mean that its original purpose cannot remain true. For me, it is a tangible sign of the major conversion I have made to enter religious life, and the many small conversions I am called to each day to die to self. For me, it is a constant reminder that I am a visible person in the world, and that I must strive to be a good example of a Christian no matter the situation. For me, at 95 degrees this week in Washington, it is absolutely a habit of penance, uncomfortable and unable to protect me from the elements, making it absolutely impossible to forget that I have limitations as a sinner, that I cannot go through the world by myself, and that God is the only one who is able to save me. For me, it is a choice for simplicity and modesty, never having to worry about what my clothing says about me, how much I have to spend on clothing to wear something new each day, or how I can look good; wearing the habit, I hope, makes me work to attract people to God, not to me and what I can offer people.

Lastly, I’d just like to say that while each of these reasons expressed in the last two posts are great reasons to wear the habit at all times, I think discernment is needed each day as to when, why, and how I wear it. The negative effects, whether intended or accidental, perceived or real, need to be taken into consideration if we are to be pastoral people for Christ. The habit is a tool, a sign, an aspect of our life, but it is not something that should come at the expense of others (if such a situation exists.) The blessing that we have, and the truth that we as Franciscans can offer, is that we can just as easily take our brown habits off and put our denim ones on while still living with the same habitus, that is, our converted way of life. And that’s the key: whether one chooses to wear the habit or not, and I do believe that there are many good and bad reasons for both, we must always remember that we are people on a journey of conversion, unstable and in need of help, ever seeking to be people of God. For me, this is best remembered and expressed by wearing the habit.

 3 Comments

 Posted on September 12, 2013 by

 General Reflection

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Why I Wear My Habit

Stranger things have been seen at community carnivals...

Strange sight, yes. But it was here that I was able to have a wonderful conversation with a complete stranger about Jesus. Worth it.

Much has been written on this blog about the prospect of wearing a habit (Breaking In The (real) Habit, and Having My Habit and Wearing It Too), but up until now, I have not spoken about my experience since actually receiving one last December.

In short, my perspective on the habit has not changed drastically since being invested. There was a fear in me that once I put it on and began to wear it regularly that I would find it to be uncomfortable, impractical, burdensome, or distracting to myself and others. This could not be further from the truth. While, I will admit, it can be hot at times, I have found it to be an even more positive experience than I had anticipated, and am overjoyed with every moment that I am able to wear it. Seriously. I really like wearing my habit.

For any number of reasons, however, the habit, or external signs in general, is something of a controversial issue within religious life. Since the 1960s when certain mandates regarding religious clothing were softened, it has been a issue that has caused some communities to split completely. Men’s communities have tended to fair better at avoiding conflict over the it, but there is also no scarcity of strong opinions on the matter.

I say all of this simply to point out that there are many ways of looking at a seemingly insignificant issue such as clothing, and that, deciding to wear my habit in fairly comprehensive way is a decision that is the result of much reflection. I would like to share with you that decision, but rather than simply listing off a bunch of reasons why or why not, I have chosen to respond to the most common objections I have heard over the past two years.

I don’t understand why your generation feels a need for an external sign. Externals do not matter. 

Every time we get to the passages of Jesus denouncing the Pharisees for wearing long robes and large phylacteries I cringe because I know that this is the homily we are going to hear: all that matters is one’s relationship with God and neighbor. Externals mean nothing. I think that this really cheapens the Gospel. It’s true that we can all be caught up in the way we appear to others and forget the weightier things, but that doesn’t mean that we forget the external altogether. Jesus says, “Blind Pharisee, cleanse first the inside of the cup, so that the outside also may be clean [emphasis mine].”

In an attempt to avoid being Pharisees, many in the church have eliminated their external signs and all visible evangelization along with it. We have thousands of religious working in schools, hospitals, universities, and secular institutions around the country and you would never know it. This is a tragedy to me. Yes, there is value to speaking with our actions, but can we not speak with our actions and allow people to know that Jesus Christ is the reason for those actions?

I think people are looking for someone to inspire them, someone to bring them hope, and an opportunity to support others on their journey, and I think that we can offer them a very tangible sign of that. When people greet me with overwhelming smiles and encouragement, I believe that they are looking less at me, Casey Cole, and more at what I represent: a young person that has devoted his life to God and neighbor despite all of the faithlessness and allurements of the world. 

All the habit does is separate the wearer from the community, lifting them up on a pedestal above others. 

As much as I would like to believe that this were false, it has been my experience thus far. When we enter a church, ministry site, or public place in which there are Catholics around, we are inevitably fawned over. People look at us as being better than them, holier, and more worthy of respect because of our “title.” Just the other day a complete stranger walked up to me and said, “Brother, would you like one of my cookies?” There is a fine line for me between genuine support for a religious vocation and undeserved exaltation above everyone else in the room. In many situations, it can be difficult to be “minor,” to be a treated as a “lesser brother” when the habit brings us this sort of attention.

My response to this is quite simple: quit spending so much time around people that will praise you. While I said before that the Catholic faithful could benefit from our presence, there is a whole wide world of people out there who do not know Jesus, have been cast out by society in one way or another, and would certainly not praise us for wearing a brown dress and white rope. It’s funny to see the reception I get the moment I leave Catholic University’s campus and drive home or stop at a store. The strange looks, the awkward questions, the apprehension. “What’s with the robes?” “Are you a monk or something?” “Are you in a play?” (What’s worse is the questions that you know people are thinking but not asking!)

As an added bonus, it presents us with a situation for evangelization that jeans can’t offer; they may not recognize the meaning of the external at first, but they’re definitely going to notice it! In just a few short months, I have had some spectacular experiences with strangers who are fallen-away Catholics, people looking for someone to pray for them, or just curious and want to learn. I would put up with all the strange looks in the world for these experiences!

People are going to think that you’re a crazy or hyper-conservative or both.

Then let them. I find this to be a very ridiculous reason for not doing something, and a bit frustrating that I’ve heard it more than a few times. Because of the split in many communities over it, as well as the recent influx of highly conservative vocations that represent a shift back to the pre-Vatican II church, many have placed too much stock in the line, “perception is reality.” In some ways it is true, and I will inevitably turn some people away from me because of something they have wrongly judged about me. But one the other hand, going back to the first question, how would I have been more successful in ministering to strangers without it? The habit at least gives us a chance to meet people where they are, because, well, they can find us, and possibly even break down that stereotype that all religious are fanatics or hyper-conservatives. Some of us are even normal people. Some of us.

In the end, answer for many is to only wear the habit for liturgical purposes and in situations in which everyone will recognize who we are. The grocery store is a no-no. The bank is unconscionable. An airport is completely out the question. I simply disagree. The possibilities for sharing our faith with others outweighs the possible problems one hundred fold. So people won’t understand at first. It doesn’t mean that they never will. So we might be the target of frustration related to the church. Wouldn’t we as Franciscans want to be the ones working with a person’s brokenness, potentially being the only one who will respect them and listen, maybe even being a part of their reconciliation? So we get stopped more frequently at airports. Our muslims brothers and sisters do not change who they are in the sight of discrimination, so why shouldn’t I stand with them in solidarity?

And yet, beyond all of these reasons, what I’ve found most fulfilling about wearing the habit in this past year has been that the external sign actually affects the internal faith. The habit is as much of a sign to myself as it is to others. It reminds me of who I am, how I am supposed to act, and who I am supposed to be in relationship with. As I have gradually begun to see it as something intrinsically linked to my identity, I find myself becoming more and more comfortable wearing it in any situation, while still recognizing that it is an external expression of my internal faith.

At the end of the day, no matter how effective it may be for evangelization, inspiration, conversation, or identification, I believe that it brings me closer to God and makes me a better person. So why do I wear my habit? I wear it for me and my ongoing conversion to be everything God made me to be.

 9 Comments

 Posted on September 8, 2013 by

 General Reflection

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Breaking In The Habit

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