by T.J. Burdick | Mar 12, 2018 | Marriage and Family, Theology and Philosophy
Billy Graham was a giant in the preaching world, a faithful witness of Christ, and a key player in the lives of America’s religious and political leaders for over 50 years. His ministry touched many, converted millions, and spanned the globe on a scale unmatched by anyone in the protestant world. You would think with all of the success in his apostolate, he’d be one of the, if not THE most satisfied preacher in the world.
And yet, he wasn’t.
He had regrets.
He struggled.
According to his own website:
Although I have much to be grateful for as I look back over my life, I also have many regrets. I have failed many times, and I would do many things differently. For one thing, I would speak less and study more, and I would spend more time with my family.
Here we have not only a professional Preacher, but e legendary one a that, who wished that he would have “spoken less and studied more.” More importantly, that he would have spent more time with his family.
Catholic man or woman in today’s age share in Billy’s struggle. We are constantly attempting to figure out what we should do to satisfy the mission of the Church. Should we teach catechism? Help run the day care? Lead a prayer group? Subscribe to a Bible study? Take a Catholic course? Pursue a religious vocation? Volunteer at the local soup kitchen?
With so many options to advance Christ’s kingdom, we oftentimes turn a blind eye to the real reason God placed us on the earth. Our primary vocations to our marriages, our children, and to our own health, get overlooked because we desire to “do God’s will” through our apostolate.
To that, Mr. Graham continues:
“When I look back over the schedule I kept thirty or forty years ago, I am staggered by all the things we did and the engagements we kept. Sometimes we flitted from one part of the country to another, even from one continent to another, in the course of only a few days. Were all those engagements necessary? Was I as discerning as I might have been about which ones to take and which to turn down? I doubt it. Every day I was absent from my family is gone forever. Although much of that travel was necessary, some of it was not.
I would also spend more time in spiritual nurture, seeking to grow closer to God so I could become more like Christ. I would spend more time in prayer, not just for myself but for others. I would spend more time studying the Bible and meditating on its truth, not only for sermon preparation but to apply its message to my life. It is far too easy for someone in my position to read the Bible only with an eye on a future sermon, overlooking the message God has for me through its pages.
And I would give more attention to fellowship with other Christians, who could teach me and encourage me (and even rebuke me when necessary).”
As we continue to mourn the death of our beloved brother in Christ, may we remember not only his zeal for souls, but, more importantly, his humility in recognizing his limitations. May we not wait until the end our lives to “speak less and study more;” and to “spend more time with [our] families.”
And so, to honor Mr. Graham in his newfound celestial glory, I give him the final words of this post:
“About one thing I have absolutely no regrets, however, and that is my commitment many years ago to accept God’s calling to serve Him as an evangelist of the Gospel of Christ.”
by T.J. Burdick | Mar 5, 2018 | Theology and Philosophy
Pott’s disease is sickness that causes a degeneration of the vertebral tissues causing such immense pain that people with it used to have to be tied to their beds because otherwise they would attempt to commit suicide.
In 1945, Ramon Montero Nevarro, a future canonized Saint from Spain, was diagnosed with Pott’s disease. His agony climaxed at the age of 13 as his tiny body had to sustain excruciatingly painful sores and internal torment. Even so, with closed eyes and muffled tongue, Ramon prayed the rosary daily. Strangely, as soon as he reached the third mystery, his symptoms would miraculously leave him for a time and he could complete his beads in peace.
I read Ramon’s story almost 15 years ago and every time I have prayed the rosary since then, I’ve experienced an atom’s worth of peaceful kindling every time I come to the third Mystery. It might not be much, but over the course of years, each drop in Christendom’s prayerful ocean certainly does add up.
The 3rd Joyful Mystery- The Birth of Jesus Christ in Bethlehem
For the first two joyful mysteries, Mary receives God into her body during the Annunciation and she shares her news with Elizabeth during the Visitation. In Emmanuel, “Christ is with us” and the world, He overtakes Mary’s life (with her permission) so that our very souls would never be the same. He Who is Light could be seen and those who were looking could find Him.
The 3rd Luminous Mystery- The Proclamation of the Kingdom of Heaven
Again, the first two Luminous mysteries lead up to Christ’s first steps in mission. He was baptized, He completed His first miracle and now it was time for Him to go public. The Sermon on the Mount was spoken and the the Incarnate Word fell upon both opened and closed ears.
The 3rd Sorrowful Mystery- The Crowning of Thorns
The movie, The Passion of Christ makes one believe that Jesus’ flogging was a public event. I’m not a historian which means this very well could be true. But when I read the Gospels, I get the feeling that the Scourging at the Pillar was carried out behind closed doors. The fact that it is given so little description leads me to believe that in the same way only three of Jesus’ disciples were with Him (asleep) in the Garden of Gethsemane, so too there were only two or three at the pillar to inflict wounds with the cat of nine tails. It wasn’t until Pilate washed his hands and the people crowned Him with thorns that the Suffering Servant became known to all.
The 3rd Glorious Mystery- The Descent of the Holy Spirit Upon the Apostles
Very few witnessed the Resurrection. In fact, the vast majority of the Apostles were aloof and, when told by their friends, were a little freaked out. During these first moments of the Church only those who could testify that Christ had risen belonged to it. Sadly, during the first two Glorious mysteries, very few were given this grace.
Then Pentecost happened and the echoes of the Apostles continue to ring out until they have reached every ear and every heart. On this day, the Church, Christ’s missionary and mystical body, was breathed into like God giving Adam his first breath. He, Jesus, was thus made public in us for eternity.
In the third mysteries of the rosary, Christ makes Himself present in the world, through His teaching, by His example and within our hearts. I guess it just goes to show that in Him, there is no bell curve, only a constant uphill climb toward greatness.
I’m just happy He meets us halfway.
What about you? Which mysteries affect you most strongly?
by T.J. Burdick | Feb 26, 2018 | Theology and Philosophy
A few weeks ago, my wife and I took a trip to Chicago. We visited the Holy Name Cathedral for Mass on Sunday morning and, strangely enough, there was no traffic and we arrived early.
We sat in the front pew and gazed at the beautiful artwork, the striking architecture, and all but lost ourselves in the ambiance of the place.
Then, we looked above the altar and saw what looked like dangling remains of art hanging from the ceiling.
My wife asked me what they were and I had no idea. I have very poor vision so the best I could make of the hanging figures was that they were red and they appeared to be cloth. I thought, “it is either a banner from the feast of a martyr or the artifacts of a Chicago Bulls win.” Given the Bulls’ record this season, I had to settle for the former.
Just then, a good deacon who was preparing to serve at Mass saw our confused faces and he came over to greet us. He asked us if we knew what we were looking at. We told hm we had no idea and he told us a bit of Cathedral history that pretty much blew our minds.
Cardinal Burke in his Galero
Apparently, they are Cardinal galeros, which are wide-brimmed, bright red, honorary hats, elevated and suspended to the ceiling. There have been 6 Cardinals in Chicago since the founding of the now Archdiocese starting with Cardinal Mundeline and ending with Cardinal George, may they rest in peace. That’s why there were 6 galeros hanging from the arches.
According to tradition, after a Cardinal’s death, their galeros were hung to the ceiling by the tassels and, once the tassel wore too thin, leaving it unable to hold the hat’s weight, it would fall toward the altar and that would signify that the Cardinal’s time in purgatory was complete.
Unfortunately for them, those galeros are now fastened by wire now. So it might be a while before they get into heaven if the tradition is true!
Apparently this is a thing in some of the larger Cathedrals in the United States. The Archdiocese of New York and the Archdiocese of Chicago are the only ones I know of that do this.
Does anyone else have a galero hanging in their Cathedral? I would love to hear if this is common practice in other Dioceses and Archdioceses both in the U.S and internationally.
by T.J. Burdick | Feb 19, 2018 | Marriage and Family, Theology and Philosophy
If you are thinking taking up theological studies, take a minute to read this list. Having studied theology “on the side” for over a decade now, I’ve gone through enough heartache and shame to not want you to suffer through what I suffered.
Think of these points as a devil’s advocate in that they will show the various dangers that can occur when one studies theology. Knowing them before you begin your first class can help you fight their temptations and complete your courses without remorse.
When You Spend More Time in Study than in Prayer
St. Thomas Aquinas once said that we must “first contemplate, then share the fruits of our contemplation.” One cannot share what they do not first acquire. Hence, if one desires to share God, they must first come into communion with him through prayer. Too often, studious theologians put the cart before the horse as they pursue God by studying him before actually knowing him. The former is the mark of a logician, the latter is that of a mystic.
When You Sacrifice Your Primary Vocation(s)
St. Paul wrote, “If anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for his immediate family, he has denied the faith, and is worse than an unbeliever” (1 Timothy 5:8). Many lay theologians fall into the temptation of desiring to know God above all things, including their families and their jobs. This is also the case for religious men and women who delve so deep into the science of God that they allow their attention toward community and family to dwindle. Whether you are a religious or a lay man or woman, the fact of the matter is that when you are given responsibilities to love and care for others as your primary vocation, studying theology may hinder your ability to complete that mission that God has already given you.
When You Pursue the Winning of Arguments
In my social media scrolling, I’ve found that Facebook fighting has become a normalized means of “evangelization” in today’s world. Many people have pursued theological proofs only to use them to defeat another person, usually a stranger, in a moral, political, or canonical debate. They care more about wining the argument than wining souls. Such is the way for those who have lost the main reasons why we study theology in the first place- namely, to love.
When You Lose Yourself to Logic
When theologians place their noses into the books of reason, there is a temptation for both nostrils to breath in the heavy burden of logic. It becomes their only air and leaves little possibility of believing in the impossible. Miracles are thought to be exceptions to the Divine rules, angels become figments of our imagination, and devils cease to exist. This is a dangerous path as it keeps the soul barred from the mystery of God, to whom much mystery is due. G. K. Chesterton warns against such a fruitless habit: “Poets do not go mad; but chess-players do. Mathematicians go mad, and cashiers; but creative artists very seldom. I am not, as will be seen, in any sense attacking logic: I only say that this danger does lie in logic, not in imagination.”
When Knowledge Becomes More Important than Wisdom
In our puny efforts of examining God’s ways through knowledge, we lack the true means by which we come to understand him to the capacity that we are able, namely, through wisdom. Any theologian of goodwill can tell you that the more they learn about God, the more they realize that there is to learn. It is a never-ending field of study because the one thing we research and learn about is the one Eternal God whose mind is so far advanced than our own. The temptation par excellence of the devil is to create a theologian whose primary mission in life is to accumulate mere facts about God and thus become truly ignorant.
Should You Study Theology?
Do I recommend that you study theology? Yes, but with an elevated regard to the salvation of those for whom you are pursuing your studies. In the words of St. Philip Neri, “Do whatever you wish; for me it is enough you do not sin.” In other words, if your heart and time are disposed to it for the saving of souls, do it.
However, if the study of God distracts you from doing what God has chosen you to do, disown it.
One thing is for sure, you are more predisposed to knowing God’s will and attaining true wisdom in one hour of adoration than in 100 hours of studying theology. The heart is better tamed to listening to the voice of God when you are in his presence. There, you speak with him in your soul and he responds with divine pedagogy in your life.
On the other hand, when one studies theology, you are predisposed to filter another man’s words (even if it is orthodox work) through your mind before it arrives into your soul. Hence, studying theology becomes a labyrinth of sorts, a maze that can help you come to know God, but it may not be necessary, nor prudent, for most when it comes to loving him or serving him.
Sometimes the easiest thing to do when you are seeking God is to look around where you already are and simply be.
by T.J. Burdick | Dec 18, 2017 | Theology and Philosophy
Two doctors walk into a bar. Another man at the same bar falls to the ground and has a heart attack. The two doctors know exactly what is happening. The first Doctor falls to his knees and prays for the man. The second Doctor falls to his knees and begins to resuscitate the man.
Which Doctor did the right thing?
The answer might surprise you.
According to Aquinas, “…spiritual works of mercy surpass corporal works of mercy. Moreover this is more pertinent to the service of God, to Whom no sacrifice is more acceptable than zeal for souls…” (ST II-II Q. 188, a. 4).
In other words, the spiritual work of mercy of praying for the man having a heart attack, as opposed to acting to save his life, would merit more value for his soul than the physical recitation of his life.
Wait… what?!
The situation certainly goes to extremes, but it was intentional. The answer is obviously a bit more complicated that what it seems.
The Doctors in question knew exactly what was happening because they have been trained for years on how to recognize, treat, and serve the sick and it is their duty to use those talents when they are needed. Both Doctors had a moral responsibility to save the man’s physical life because, in essence, this is what God had prepared them to do through the knowledge that he gave to them. Therefore, the first Doctor who decided to not use his talent would be guilty of the sin of inaction much the servant from scripture who buried the coin his master gave him (Matthew 25: 14-30).
However, we cannot discount the value of that Doctor’s prayer. In light of theological truth, the first Doctor’s faith deserves a certain degree of merit. Aquinas goes on to say that “…it is a greater thing to employ spiritual arms in defending the faithful against the errors of heretics and the temptations of the devil, than to protect the faithful by means of bodily weapons.” Therefore, the Doctor’s use of the spiritual weapon of his prayer did serve as a source of strength for the suffering man’s soul.
We can imagine the multiplication of that Doctor’s spiritual merits in the onlookers who are watching the scene frantically searching for some way to help. Not knowing what to do, some pull out their phones and call 9-1-1 while others say silent prayers as they watch the second Doctor do his job. These witnesses add to the spiritual flame that helps enliven the suffering man’s soul while his body remains in torment. It is all the witnesses can do having not been given the grace of medical knowledge like the Doctors who are rightfully at the suffering man’s side.
The onlookers’ prayers deserve merit. Jesus tells us on countless occasions that the spiritual acts we commit are valued more than the physical alms we give in our time, talent and treasure:
“Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell” (Matthew 10:28).
“So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well” (Matthew 6: 31-33).
“‘Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?’
“‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself’” (Matthew 22: 36-39).
A rosary said is worth 50 times more than the giving of bread. But we must never discount the value of giving of bread, lest we turn into Scientologists. Our Catholic faith is always and forever a religion of both/and, a middle road that unites the spiritual with the physical in every act that brings us closer to sanctification. Pope Francis, a current model of corporal sanctity, recently said, “You pray for the hungry, then you feed them. That’s how prayer works.” Note how these two acts, one spiritual and the other corporal, are united in the simplicity of his words?
Jesus himself reiterated this when he said “The poor you will always have with you, but you will not always have me” (Matthew 26:11).
Too often, we glorify the giving as the highest form of service when in truth, it is the spiritual prep work that manifests itself more concretely in the souls of those we serve.
This is why Jesus spent hours upon mountaintops praying before he journeyed through the towns to produce miracles, preach, and ultimately suffer the worst death known to man.
This is why St. Dominic spent every moment he was’t preaching in silent contemplation so that he could prepare to use the words of the Spirit instead of his own.
This is why Mother Theresa woke up at 4AM to loose herself to God in silent prayer and daily Mass so that she could have the strength of serve those who needed her in the streets of Calcutta.
Spiritual acts must always be the source of serving the physical needs of those who need us. This Christmas, when you give, be sure that your giving is motivated by the zeal for souls. That’s when the spiritual combines with the corporal and you become the communion of body and soul that God engineered you to be.
“Give me souls, Take away the rest.”- St. John Bosco
by T.J. Burdick | Nov 20, 2017 | Education, Marriage and Family, Theology and Philosophy
The most common email I get comes from those who want to know my story about why (and how) I joined the Dominican Order as a layman. I tried to do it justice in this video that I created, but I’m realizing now that there is so much more to unravel.
So, here’s the whole story:
Distracted from Truth
When God takes control of your life, the pathway is never certain, or clear, When I was a teenager, I started seeking answers to life’s ultimate questions. I was a cradle Catholic and Catholic school educated, but even then, I questioned my belief system often. I discovered some half truths but I found so many more lies that I liked better. I found that my religious formation, though often correct in everything that dealt with inward morality, didn’t serve as a catalyst toward the outward action I felt was missing from organized religion. Church seemed to me an emotional circle that we would gather around to share our feelings and desires, which was great, but it never satisfied me theologically. After 8th grade, I did not study to the degree I should have. I didn’t know how to maneuver the complexities of the Catholic faith- I only know how to equate God with my feelings.
Exploration of Worldly Truths
So, I followed my emotions to a very dark place. I lavished in personal pleasures, none more dangerous to my soul than the vanity of my collegiate and semi-professional basketball career. I escaped into the world and, in doing so, sacrificed my God. Instead of pursuing the everlasting glow of the halo, I fell through the cracks of a cold, orange, iron rim that led quickly to a hard floor. I eventually lost my ability to play the game I loved so much when God granted me the grace of two separate knee injuries. I say that these were “graces” now, but in the moment, they were obstacles that led me away from God and toward myself.
Discerning the Priesthood
It wasn’t long before I realized that my own sinful actions were the cause of all of my pain. The simple lessons taught in my boyhood from my Catholic schooling and at home resonated within my soul once I was mature enough to understand them. And so, as a man of impulse, I gave everything up. I fasted on bread and water, I studied for several hours a day, and I winsomely discerned the priesthood as my only option to make God proud. I had already spoke with our Director of Vocations in my diocese and was one semester away from heading off to seminary when God did something truly remarkable…
Marriage and Missionary Life
I met the woman who would later become my wife in the entryway of Saint Joseph the Worker parish, one of the few primarily latino Catholic Church of my diocese. I had missed attending Mass after 3 consecutive months due to the daylight savings time change. When I arrived the following week, a beautiful Mexican princess pulled me aside and said, “Where were you last week?” Shocked that someone was actually talking to me, I answered with my broken Spanish. We became friends. I discerned out of the priesthood. We got engaged within 5 months and were married just after of a year after the day we first met.
After our first year of marriage, we became missionaries to her native Mexico. While the lifestyle was difficult, it was perfect for my impulsive longing for holiness. There, we cared for poor young boys in an orphanage where we were expected to be their providers and guides in their dark worlds. For 24 hours a day, we were on, active in prayer and deed and we enjoyed it. We grew very close to one another as a couple serving in Christ’s missionary field. So close that we multiplied…
Finding My Community
Upon returning home from our service as missionaries, we laid down roots in Grand Rapids, Michigan where God blessed us with 4 children and steady work in the educational field. Teaching had always been my passion, and God found it a necessary component for my own salvation and those of the students who I would serve as teacher. My love for teaching was so overflowing that I took whatever excess of time I had and wrote my first book on the topic. The book was called 99 Ways to Teach Like the Master, and before I began writing it, I had grown to accept another passion that was growing within me- online evangelization.
I started my first blog in 2009 shortly after we returned from our missionary year. I found many other people through my connections on social media who shared a similar passion for writing on theological and philosophical topics. A few viral blog posts later and boom, I had a tribe- a group of followers who enjoyed what I was writing and were willing to support my passion by sharing my posts, endorsing my books, and even producing content that would guide people toward what I was doing as a writer.
This was the first taste of the fruits of my evangelistic labors. I found that my words were affecting people positively. It was then I began to learn about, reengage with, and eventually fall back in love with the Catholic Church and her teachings.
But, there was one problem, I had no idea what I was doing.
I was graced with a large audience and opportunities to preach God’s word to many people, but I was still very immature in my faith. I needed something to help me understand the deeper, more complex aspects of my faith. I needed direction, orthodox instruction, and a community of like-minded people.
That’s when I started to research the Third Orders in my community. I spent months debating between the Third Order Franciscans, the Third Order Carmelites, and the Lay Dominicans. I knew I was impulsive by nature, so attending even one meeting could have been the only justification I needed to make a poor decision. So, I didn’t attend meetings with any of these groups because I wanted to be as sure as possible of what they believed and what they practiced. I delved deeper into my study.
In March of 2013, I took my first step in a journey that would change my life forever. I walked into my first Lay Dominican meeting. I expected it to be another pow-wow where everyone shared their feelings and sang songs together. After two hours of listening to the members pray the Liturgy of the Hours, the Rosary, then participate in very high-level intellectual formation, I was stunned. I had NEVER been a part of something so objectively awesome with God as its center. I was hooked.
I took a month or two off to discern whether or not this was for me. After speaking about it with my wife, I laid down the steps that I would need to take in an organized plan and executed them while I discerned. I published those steps in an article I wrote for Ignitum Today titled How to Join a Third Order, which, to this day, is one of the most visited articles in the site’s history.
Apparently I’m not the only one who’s been called to discern a Third Order Vocation!
The Mary Factor
The final step that led me toward my acceptance into the Lay Dominican Order was a simple grace that came through my formation as a novice. Throughout the discovery period, I toggled between whether or not I could accept such a vocation given the immense pressure of my duties as a full time teacher and a full time husband and father. God continued to grace us with children on one hand, and on the other hand, I was given opportunity after opportunity to grow spiritually through my online evangelization efforts. I was in the middle of my second Master’s degree and we had four children under 5 years old at one point. I couldn’t figure out how living out a Third Order vocation could possibly fit into that equation.
So, I backed away. I stopped everything. My Dominican formation, my writing, my online evangelization, my Masters. Everything was put on hold except the needs of my family.
It was then that I began praying the Rosary every day. I joined the Confraternity of the Rosary and offered my entire life to Our Lady through my total consecration to Jesus through Mary.
It was then that things started to become clear.
After years of no study and no writing, I came to understand the obscurity of Christ’s early life before his public ministry. Like him, I remained spiritually alone with Mary and she taught me the importance of keeping my priorities in check. I learned to love my family above all else by sacrificing everything else. Together, my wife, my family, Our Lady and I trudged through the valleys of darkness that overshadowed us and we escaped into the grace of a springtime of love.
Little by little, the need to continue discovering the depths of God made itself present within my soul. This time, instead of accepting every opportunity that crossed my path, I became intentional about what projects I accepted and how much time I would dedicate to doing them.
The most important project in my mind was completing my Dominican formation, because I knew that if I could finish strong that I would be able to count on the graces that came with it to grow deeper in my knowledge of truth. The same spirit that ran through the veins of Aquinas, Albert the Great, Martin De Porres and St. Catherine of Siena (among countless others) would leave an indelible mark on my own soul, one that would guide me toward my potential for personal excellence and, more importantly, the salvation of many souls, including my own.
Wearing blue to represent Our Lady who covered me with her graces, I made my final promises in March of 2016 and become a tried and true Dominican.
I am a layman and a religious now. I belong totally to my wife and in my primary vocation as husband and as a member of a third order, I’ve responded to a “vocation within a vocation.” As a member of the Order of Preachers, I am dedicated to truth and even more dedicated to preaching that truth to the ends of the earth.
I couldn’t be more honored than to order my life according to the Rule that I promised to live by, I am a Lay Dominican, which affects every aspect of my life for the better. It is what I have been called to do and, God-willing, “I will fulfill my vows to the Lord in the presence of all of his people” (Psalm 116:14).
