Erin McHugh's Witness--30 March 2014

In today’s Gospel Jesus the light on the world takes away the man’s blindness. While I know that none of us here today as physical blind I believe that Jesus takes away are own “blindness” toward the world and gives us light. By taking away this “blindness” we are able to see the world and others through the eyes of God and then be that light for others. I know for me it was not until I read the readings for today that I realized that I have been “blind” to many people and social issues happening in the world around me and it wasn’t until God “healed” me that I could see them.

All of my life I have always been doing service in my community to help those in need. In middle school I tutored and played with the kids at a child care center for underprivileged families who couldn’t afford childcare. At Christmas time my family would adopt a refugee family and welcome them to the US providing them with some simple basic needs. Then in high school I went on multiple mission trips to Appalachia to do home repair for the families who couldn’t afford. While I have always enjoyed doing all this service it hasn’t until a came to college or really even this year that I found my true calling and passion for service. I hate to admit this but I feel like before this year I had did service out of pity, feeling bad that I had so much and kind of looked down on them. When in reality just because they did not have a nice house or clothes didn’t mean they were any less worthy of love and happiness than me.

 Now that God has opened my eyes to their love I find so much more joy in serving the needs of my community than I ever have before. I do not see this people for their wrinkly old clothes, or run down houses now I see them as children of God with the light of Christ dwelling inside of each of them. Today I can say that because of the light I received from Christ I now have a strong passion for service and heart for the poor. I no longer look down on the people I serve, but rather see through as any of person who deserves just as much in live as I do. Service to me is no longer something I feel like I have to do it is now something love doing and feel called to do for the rest of my life.

I have especially found this joy every 1st Saturday of the month when I get to go volunteer at the food pantry. It brings me great happiness to open the doors of the food pantry and let everyone in to provide the basic need of food. I love working the front desk and welcoming each of them as they come in. I especially enjoy it when I recognize one of them from the previous month and then strike up a conservation seeing how they had been. These people are full of so much joy and grateful hearts towards everything that is contagious. Whenever I leave the food pantry or any service project of that matter, I feel so blessed and hope that my heart doesn’t explode from all the happiness and joy that I had just received. Service to me is a two-way street that touches the hearts and lives of everyone involved forever.

While I’m no where near perfect and still often find myself looking down on others or focusing on their physical appearances. I simply pray to God asking for His grace to allow me to see everything through His eyes. I’m thankful for the experiences God has given me and his love and forgiveness when I do judge others So I hope that each of you can look at the world and others through God’s eyes, and to live as children of light because you never know what miracle God will perform in your life.

Emma Sprague's Witness, Ash Wednesday

Good Afternoon, my name is Emma Sprague, I am a Junior in the Physician Assistant program, and am currently the President of the BCC. Well, I hope that everyone here took an extra three hours on Facebook, ate a dozen extra cookies, and said one massive prayer last night...because today marks the beginning of a very long journey. Many of us are anxiously wondering how it is we are supposed to live 40, yes I did say 40, days without some material thing, that we believe we simply cannot live without. However, while we sit here debating on what it is we are going to give up, and how exactly we are going to remain sane, don't you think there is a bigger picture to our Lenten "sacrifice"? How often is it a common discussion about what we are giving up, and a secret desire to be applauded for our ability to abstain from the item during Lent. However, this is the exact opposite of what we hear in today's Gospel. Jesus says to his disciples: “Take care not to perform righteous deeds in order that people may see them." Jesus challenges his disciples, to give alms, pray and fast in secret. And today, this is the same challenge that I give to all of us. As I have gotten older, I have noticed a personal shift in my actions during Lent. As a young child, I would give up the typical things: junk food, fighting with my brother, watching TV, etc. However, since coming to college, I have noticed a dwindling amount of junk food in my possession due to having a low income, my brother is obviously not around to argue with, and finding time to watch TV comes in dead last when scheduling my days. Noting all of this, I decided my Freshman year, and have done so every year since, to give up a small amount of time each day to sit in silence. No phone, no internet, no school work, no talking...just simply listening to what God wants me to hear. After the silence is over, I say a prayer of thanksgiving, reconciliation, and petitions. Through doing this, I have noticed a sense of enjoyment instead of stress, and peace instead of anxiety, throughout the Lenten season. This sense of enjoyment and peace comes from building and strengthening my relationship with the Lord each day, as He walks by my side each day during this 40 day journey to Easter. Instead of focusing on what others are observing and thinking about our actions during this Lenten season, let us instead focus on what our God is thinking. Let us grow in our faith and in our relationship, through listening to what God is trying to tell us. Let us give alms, pray, and fast in secret, for the Lord will truly repay us in secret.

Matt Blandford's Witness, 2 March 2014

So I’ve gone almost three years here in the BCC, and up until now I have managed to escape giving the witness for Mass. I say “escape” because it has very much been a conscious avoidance of the subject whenever it gets brought up or whenever Kaitlyn would send out the emails asking for people to volunteer. It wasn’t until Emma directly emailed me asking me to write one that I finally decided, “Well, I guess it’s about time I stop hiding.” So here I am. For those who know how outspoken I am, it may come as a surprise that I would be so hesitant to give witness. The truth is that my faith is an aspect of my life that I have had a rather up-and-down relationship with for quite some time now. Growing up as the son of a religion teacher and eventual permanent deacon, let me tell you—I know most Church teachings and history like the back of my hand. Yet when it came to actually making my faith personal—actually making it mine—I falter. A lot. Part of it is due to a pride that makes it difficult for me to admit when I struggle. Part of it is due to an overly logic-based mind that gets too wrapped up in the facts and uses that as validation that, yeah, I’ve totally got a handle on this whole Catholic thing. Part of it is embarrassment being around all these wonderful people on Leadership Team who seem to have their faith so much more personally-built than I do. But the biggest part of it is that in my mind, I simply don’t have time. Ah, yes: time. How it eludes me. Between 4 straight semesters of 20 official credit hours (but often a couple more than that), a slew of organizations and other responsibilities, and, oh yeah, I should probably save time for my girlfriends and friends, it adds up to very little free time whatsoever. Unfortunately, what tends to get cast aside the most is my spiritual relationship with God. We always hear the prayers about relying on God (I know in high school I heard the prayer about “I had so much to accomplish/ That I had to take time to pray” at least 50 times), yet for me at least, this always felt nearly impossible. Even when I had down time, my mind was always running through 5 different things at once so I couldn’t concentrate on prayer even when I tried. Amid all the stress and worries of the world, I felt—and often still feel—a slave to my own commitments. Yet as Jesus pointed out in today’s Gospel, that’s not what God wants. Jesus uses the example of serving God and serving money, but it’s not just money He wants to warn us about—it’s everything. Money, high grades, popularity, relationships, hobbies, organizations—they all can be our masters. Now, that’s not to say that we shouldn’t do those things; very few of us are called to stay in our room and do nothing but pray 24/7. But amid all of the running around today, we need to take that time to stop, take a deep breath, and give God a wazzup. The first time I realized that I was struggling to make my faith personal and not an obligation was the summer after freshman year of high school. I was at ND Vision, a weeklong retreat at Notre Dame, and over the week, I had started to realize how little time I was devoting to God in my life. When it came for Reconciliation, I started with the usual list that I’m sure every priest hears. Then I paused, and before I knew it, a rush of words flew out of my mouth of how I had no idea what to do, but I had just suddenly realized that my faith wasn’t where I should be. It was the first and only time I have ever cried during Reconciliation. When I finished, I looked up embarrassed, to see the priest softly smiling. I’ll never forget what he said to me. He said, “Never forget: God wants to talk to you. And He’s ready to sit down and talk whenever you’re ready.” It was so simple, but it was exactly true, and exactly what I needed. I wish that I could say that since that moment, I’ve changed it around and now pray every day and am a model Catholic, but that’s just not true. I can honestly admit that if it wasn’t for the choir, I would probably barely be participating in my faith above the bare minimum, and I certainly wouldn’t be on Leadership Team. What I do know, however, is this: no matter what, no matter how often I forget or how lazy I become, no matter how much I feel that I just don’t have time and that it’s too late to turn things around, I know that God’s waiting. He doesn’t want to be just our master; He wants to be our friend.

Student Witness: Mary Allgier

Hello, I’m Mary Allgier. I’m a senior Electronic Journalism and Spanish Double major, Strat Comm minor. The first two readings today talk a lot about trust. If you trust in God, you too shall live. Trusting God. I asked myself if I trusted God, and of course at first I thought, “Of course I trust God completely!” Then I really thought about it. I’ve always been Captain Anxiety. I know I’ll find a job and make a life for myself after I graduate. I trust with prayer and work, I’ll get to where God wants me to be. But I’m a very “in the now” person. I have a busy life between a full time internship and school stuff… and I’m training for a half marathon in between. I always want to know what I’m doing next and feel lost when I don’t know the next step. If you’re a senior, or even a junior thinking about next year or graduating early, you can probably relate. All your friends are getting job offers, you’re scared that maybe you didn’t pick the right career, and while you’re thinking “Job, job, job,” your relatives want to know when you plan on getting married! And all this time I keep trying to remember, “Trust God. Trust God.” I found a great quote online as I was writing this. It was from a blog called Tipsy Dad… but I liked it. “I've come to realize that trusting in God means you have to trust Him even in the impossible situations…You cannot trust when you're comfortable. It is only when we are uncomfortable, when you are in impossible situations that we can really truly demonstrate our trust in God. It is only then when we can truly let go and let God...and when we do, how awesome is the peace that follows. I realized that if I truly trust God, my senior fears are kind of silly. They’re small things I’ll (hopefully) laugh about in a year or two. So I’m going to listen to the tipsy dad: let go and let God.

An Unexpected Lesson

An unexpected lesson
By Alison Oen, BCC Leadership Team

The school year had ended but apparently God still wanted to teach me a lesson.

It was the first day in the middle of my doing my hours for IPPE-Introduction to Pharmacy Practice Experience when I heard a voice I recognized. I was the voice of Valerie, a fellow peer in my pharmacy class. Little did I know that she worked part time at this Walgreens store. My first impression upon meeting her last fall was highly judgmental. I had immediately written Valerie off as someone who I would never be able to connect with, to learn from or to work with. I had felt that our personalities were too different. I admit I was panicked when I heard her voice and my stomach sank. I was worried my experience was going to turn into a disaster but it turned out better with her. Valerie was so nice to me. I could ask her a question without her judging me or telling me I should know that by now. She stood at one of the cash registers with me and explained how to look up certain medications, how to find out if a patient’s medication was ready, how to enter a new prescription into the system, and even how to enter a new patient profile. She is one of the most upbeat and energetic people I know, a lot of people would call her “perky” but I like her enthusiasm and it has made the long hours more bearable. I will definitely miss her enthusiasm when she starts her own IPPE hours at another store this coming week. I guess the old saying is true “never judge a book by its cover.” I believe God tried to teach me a lesson on judging others before I even know them. I hope that I can continue to learn more from her and work more with her in the coming school years we have together at Butler.

Memories from Appalachia and Seeing God

by Kaitlyn Willy
Chaplain's Apprentice

Looking out my bedroom window and seeing snow all over the place, working from home because the road still has snow on it and the white flakes continue to fall en masse from the sky, it’s hard to believe that last week (really, I guess two weeks ago) was Spring Break or that this Sunday is Easter.

We’ve been on a bit of a hiatus here at the BCC Blog because, frankly, everyone is busy at this time in the semester. It’s the time of the semester when the reality of finals, only five weeks away now, hits and everyone is scrambling around trying to get the work done that they have been slacking on since before Spring Break. I remember that time in college vividly. It was when I stopped eating real food, stopped sleeping more than a couple hours a night, and lived off only tea and midnight runs to Whataburger (which hardly constitutes as real food) with my friends who, wanting to escape the pressures of papers, exams, theses, and work, called me and begged for a ride, for a break, for quality time with someone other than Socrates or Augustine… or, during my last semester, Evelyn Waugh.

I’ve been thinking about my own college days a lot lately. There are a lot of reasons—missing friends, seeing their statuses on facebook talking about their own new lives, feeling far away from home—but I think the main reason is that while the rest of you were at home resting, hanging out on a beach somewhere, attending a show on Broadway in New York, or whatever you were doing over Spring Break, I took a group of 8 amazing Butler students to Nazareth Farm, which is the sister farm of Bethlehem Farm, where I first really felt my call to ministry.

As a college junior (I was a bit of a pain in the neck, to be honest), I arrived in West Virginia not knowing why I was there, what I was going to do (other than farm, which was something I did know how to do), or who I was going to meet. Like many of the most important events in my life, I had chosen to go on the University of Dallas’ Alternative Spring Break program without having a clear idea of why. I just ended up going. I worked for campus ministry (is anyone surprised?) and was friends with the graduate student Campus Minister who was leading the trip. He had been talking about it a lot, I didn’t have money to do anything else (at UD, campus ministry had the ability to fund the trip completely because we had an awesome church on campus with parishioners who gave generous donations and supported our many fund raisers), and it just felt right. It was a big commitment, we had meetings almost every week leading up to the trip and it was a struggle to fit everything in.

Finally, after a great deal of preparation and shopping around for work boots, a rain jacket, and all the other things I would need for this week of lots of work and no showering, I climbed into the 12 passenger van that we would be in for almost two days before getting to West Virginia (friends, Dallas is a LOT farther from WV than Indianapolis is). After listening to John Denver’s “Country Roads” several times (which is actually about the Western part of VA, not WV), we drove down a long road on the side of a mountain and then up a (seemingly) longer driveway and finally saw a sign that read “welcome home.” I got out of the van (which by that point, we lovingly called the “vomit comet” after one of my friends got sick only a couple hours into the trip) and was attacked by a whole bunch of people giving me hugs.

Now, twenty-one year old Kaitlyn differed from twenty-four year old Kaitlyn in many ways, and one of them was that I honestly hated hugs, except for from about 10 select people, four of whom were my parents and my two dogs (seriously). So, yeah, I had been at the farm for about two seconds and I was already totally out of my comfort zone. Fortunately, things got better (but also more intense) pretty quick.

Over the next five days, God took the opportunity to mold and shape me but also to remind me of who I was. I had lost a lot of myself in going to college because UD (while a great place that I love) was the sort of place that made you change yourself to fit in. Very few people enjoyed being themselves there, and they were usually disliked by the majority of students on campus. The Catholic University for Independent Thinkers was , ironically, never that big on individuality. I was the only farm girl in my group of city kids and, needing to fit into their world, I had lost a lot of my own culture. At this point in my college career, only four of my friends had ever heard me speaking in my accent, and then only because they had gone home with me or had been around me when I was so tired I couldn’t control it. So when I found myself at Bethlehem Farm, surrounded by people who reminded me more of home than anything else, it was a bit of a shock. While my friends struggled with a totally new culture, I struggled with my own identity and fought back memories from childhood and tears.

The farm house reminded me of my grandmother’s house, an elderly man whose house I worked on reminded me of my uncle and my dad, while his wife reminded me of my grandmother. They spoke with the same accent that I had grown up with in the Ozarks and they lived a lifestyle that reminded me of the people I had known from childhood. On community night, when members of the community came over for dinner, a couple older men brought banjos and guitars and I sat and listened, remembering the many, many nights of sitting and listening to my grandfather play the same instruments. When we went to a local protestant church for their worship service, while my friends were complaining about how weird the gospel music was or how uncomfortable it was to be in a protestant church, I was having flashbacks to my cousins’ gospel quartet and listening to them play at their church when I was younger. These people sang the same songs and, to my friends’ surprise, I found myself singing along.

All in all, the trip to Bethlehem Farm helped me to remember who I was in the midst of both the identity crisis that was college and the haze that celiac’s was causing— the damage that disease was wreaking on my body and soul. My time at Beth Farm is probably the clearest memory from the entire of my junior year, and I imagine it’s partly because even though I was still eating gluten, I was eating a lot of natural food without preservatives. My time at Bethlehem Farm also shaped me as I was introduced to new knowledge about the earth and the environment and when I got back to UD, the immediate impression of my roommate and best friend, Rebecca, was that I was becoming even more of a hippie than I was before, something she found amusing as long as it didn’t affect her directly (which, in the long run, it definitely did).

In the four years since, I have not returned to Bethlehem Farm, but I have been to Nazareth Farm twice and each time I have been reminded of the huge importance that first trip played in my life. It is probably true that I wouldn’t have ended up in Echo or working at Butler, had it not been for that trip and the influence it had on me. But I would also just simply not be me. And in each trip to Nazareth Farm, I have found more of myself hiding in the deep and dark corners of my soul, dying to get out and see the sun. And those little bits have found freedom there, in a place so drastically different from my everyday life and yet, not so different, and perhaps more like home than anything else I have experienced.

This year’s trip to Naz Farm was no exception. While the snow fell down on us, making our work harder (because snow mixed with warm soil creates mud, and mud makes dirty work like underpinning a trailer even dirtier), and while my girls shivered out in the barn and later moved into the common room because the heater in the barn was broken, I was being reminded of who I am, what is important to me, and what I believe. God was challenging me, reminding me of where I have failed, but also consoling me, inviting me into deeper communion with him. As any of the eight students who went with me can attest, it was a busy week, packed with a lot of events, a lot of emotion, and a lot of God. There are so many stories I could tell you (like about the Mountain Justice seminar we went to or about how I accidentally glutenized myself and how very unpleasant I can be when I’m sick), but I’ve already taken up a lot of your time and so, I would like to share just one story with you, about the Eucharist.

At Nazareth Farm, as I’m sure you would expect from any Catholic organization, we have a couple opportunities for a Eucharistic Celebration (Communion Service). Of course, my celiac’s prevents me from being able to consume a normal consecrated host and so, because we had no priest or gluten free hosts available, I was unable to receive. Before our Communion Service at the beginning of the week, I had spoken with a staff member who I am friends with and had been reminded of Mother Theresa saying that the Christ in the Tabernacle is the same as the Christ on the street. Typically, I find communion services or Masses where I cannot receive to be a little frustrating, as the Eucharist is my very favorite part of being Catholic. This time was different. Sitting there, watching the other volunteers receive the Eucharist, I had an overwhelming feeling of consolation and I truly felt Christ’s presence in the others. It was a beautiful gift from the Holy Spirit, and I know that having this experience so early in the week shaped my experience of God through the rest of the week and continues to do so.



As we go into Holy Week, I think we all need to remember Christ’s true presence in our lives though others, through the Eucharist, and in so many other ways. I encourage you to remember to celebrate this Holy Week, even though the snow, studies, and homework have you pretty busy now. And don’t forget, the BCC will be having Easter Sunday Mass at 11 followed by Brunch in Robertson Hall. Please rsvp to me (kwilly@butler.ed) if you’re coming and let me know if you’re bringing guests.

And next year, consider going to Nazareth Farm. Every student who went this year said it was an amazing experience and many want to go again. Check out the Naz Farm pictures on facebook and keep us in mind next year!

Peace,

Kaitlyn

Lent Time

Lent time

by Mary Allgier

BCC Leadership Team

It’s almost Ash Wednesday, you know what that means? McDonald’s Filet O’ Fish returns.

Okay, yes, but it means Lent will have officially started and many of us will be giving something up.

Many choose chocolate, or some other food item. Some try to give up or limit technology or anything they think they use too much.

For me, Lent is a time to become a better person. What keeps me from God? What do I need to work on?

Last year I gave up swearing (Not afraid to admit I can be a potty mouth). It was good, but two years ago I decided to give up complaining. I realized after a day I didn’t know how to have a conversation without airing some sort of grievance. It’s too cold! It’s too early! I’m so hungry! My C-Club pizza is SOGGY (Yes. That happened).

So I tried to just put a positive spin on all my complaints.

At least I have food to eat. I have to get up early to go to school, but many people don’t get that chance. At least the snow is pretty.

And I think that’s my favorite thing I’ve ever done for Lent. I think I’ll do it again this year (along with Strawberry Pop tarts… seriously, it’s a problem) and I encourage you to join me. Instead of whining about what we don’t have or what we have to do, let’s try and focus on how blessed we are!

Here are some other idea too  http://www.examiner.com/article/ten-innovative-things-to-give-up-for-lent