St. Therese and the title deed to an eternal inheritance.

A trip to the vineyard leads to reflection: what belongs in the burn pile?

This French culinary term isn't just for carrot cake; it orders my life at seminary too.

Conquering a mountain trail last Saturday afternoon led us closer to our Mother.

I wanted to do so many things freshman year. Three years on, I haven't done any of them—and that's a good thing.

These ten days at St. John Paul II, there's been an excitement in my heart—a feeling I never felt outside the seminary.

Last month, I was sitting in a university classroom in Rome, studying theology alongside students from all over the world. Now, I’ve completed a two-week self-quarantine in the D.C. area and moved into a parish. By now, every American seminarian studying in Rome has returned to America. What do we make of this?

Down 4-0 with only a 15 minute half remaining in the last soccer game before spring break. Disheartened at our poor performance--hope felt lost. However, come the end of the second half, the seminarians came out on top with a 5-4 win. An incredible comeback inspired by a few simple words at halftime. One can view this as luck or as a lesson for our spiritual lives.

Now that we have returned, here are some photos that round out our experience!

“Never forget,” Fr. Kevin Regan exhorted us at 6:30am Mass in Jamaica before heading to the airport. Our St. John Paul II Seminary vice-rector reminded us of that bumper sticker, popular after the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center in 2001, so that we may fight for our memories of the Mustard Seed mission trip that concluded yesterday. In the coming weeks and months, we’ll need this lesson. 

Stepping onto Jamaican soul for the first time after 30 years, I was filled with anxiety and excitement. After a few days talking to my Jamaican brothers and sisters, it was like I had never left. I learned about their many sufferings to meet basic needs and why people must often revert to crime. However, I sensed fertile grounds for the message of the gospel to change their lives.

We wanted to upload a few photos from our time here so far! These pictures are few and small as we have a limited internet connection during our trip. But we wanted to get as much to you as we could in real-time. 

Most of my prayer in the first few days of this mission trip was spent asking “Lord, why am I here?” The heart-stretching challenges I had been anticipating for months - the ones I feared would make me uncomfortable but also hoped would help me grow in holiness - failed to materialize.

We wanted to upload a few photos from our time here so far! These pictures are few and small as we have a limited internet connection during our trip. But we wanted to get as much to you as we could in real-time. 

These are the words that are displayed in every chapel where Mustard Seed Communities work. Returning to Jacob’s Ladder after two years for another mission trip, I was glad to remember this as I walked into the chapel at the center of the property.

“Give them some food yourselves.” This impossible task is proposed by Jesus to his Apostles directly before He miraculously feeds 5,000 of his followers. With only five loaves and two fish available to them, the first twelve priests of Jesus Christ had no way of knowing how their resources would benefit so many in need. 

I marvel at the Polish pope’s achievements. He penned innumerable publications, helped defeat communist ideology in Europe, and became one of the most famous persons of the 20th century. But the most remarkable thing about these worldly accomplishments is that he didn't need any of them. He simply received them. They were secondary and incidental to his single-hearted pursuit: complete surrender to and unity with Christ.

The Son of God, on the greatest day in human history, having just risen from the dead, chose to invest four hours in just two disciples on the point of despair.

If seminary has taught me anything, it’s that you can’t do anything without God and this retreat reinforced that. As soon as we entered silence, I knew something was different; the silence wasn’t empty. The silence was a perfect medium for God to speak and He did so in a multitude of unexpected ways.

“The voice is the most personal instrument there is,” a professor once told me. Before entering seminary, I was pursuing a Master’s degree in voice performance. I was preparing to be an opera singer and a teacher of voice at a university. The voice had a central importance in my life. Since I left vocal performance to follow God’s call to the seminary, the voice has now gained a spiritual importance.