A Rare Book Adventure

Throughout my entire childhood my family has always lived in small town America. The world of traffic lights, movie theatres and even McDonald’s restaurants were always something that was reserved for the large ‘cities’. Growing up without video games, cable television or the internet I had to rely on my imagination, and my spirit, to find adventure. Adventure I found at every corner and in a special way in books. Each trip to the library was an opportunity to travel to anywhere in the world and do the unimaginable. The library was and is an adventurer’s paradise.
To this very day I still recall with great joy the excitement that used to accompany my Tuesday trips to the library with my elementary school class. We were met each week at the door by the stern and intimidating librarian Mrs. Buzzell, who was twelve tall, breathed fire and had eyes behind her head, or at least that is how I remember it. Once inside the one room library, formerly the one room schoolhouse, she would share with us amazing tales of adventure, and transport us to a world beyond small town New England. Since that early age I have always had a great love of time spent in the library. Filled with this great love and a spirit of adventure I recently endeavored to explore our own library here at St. Mary’s in order to see what treasures were hidden deep within. This fact either makes me the world’s biggest nerd or a “Renaissance Man”.
Experience tells me that 95% of the people use 5% of the library and never know what they are missing. The good stuff is always hidden deep below the surface and away from first glance. Here at St. Mary’s it is no different, after all let’s be honest most of us frequent the computers and the man eating chairs more than the stacks, the basement or even the John Paul II room. However, with a little curiosity and a few minutes to kill you might be surprised what you can discover.
So with a few hours to kill I began my journey with tens of thousands of my newest friends. I know some of you will laugh and say that I do not have anything better to do with my time. However, who among us has not wasted away an afternoon on the internet, in front the TV, or playing Pacman in Donnelly (sorry Mike). Within five minutes of beginning my treasure hunt I discovered that we have books on the shelf, and in general circulation, from the 1700’s. How crazy is it to think that right this moment there are books in our library which are older than our country. Books which you can bring up to your room, read in the chapel or take on an adventure to Panera bread. The first seminarians ever to be trained in this country used them, and here we sit three hundred years later.
My adventure did not end on the first floor although I considered doing so. Nevertheless I continued on further and made my way to the basement, where before long I was peering in the windows of the rare book room. Filled with courage and a little chutzpah I made my way upstairs and right into Tom, the head librarian’s office to request an appointment and a tour. He gladly dropped everything to help me and by six o’clock that evening Judy, the night librarian, was leading me downstairs and through the padlocked doors of the rare book room.



As she turned the lights on and dusted away a few cobwebs, before my eyes sat thousands of volumes of rare and incredibly old books.

Judy knew her stuff and began explaining to me the differences between the styles of printing, types of books and binding processes surrounding me.

Before long I was holding a small leather bound book with initials carved on the front. Upon further inspection I discover it belonged to a man named Symon Paulu’s and was dated 1577.




As I flipped through its yellowed pages I saw large amounts of margin notes
and underlining



and immediately thought of all my readings for Dr. Miles’ class. Incidentally the amount of readings we have covered in his class this semester is about equivalent to the three thousands volumes in the rare book room, but I digress. Holding Symon Paulu’s prayer book 432 years after he lived I could not help but to pause and feel the breadth of history that separates us both. As exciting as Symon’s prayer book was there were literally thousands of others each with their own unique stories waiting to be told, like the two giant color atlases brought over by the Sulpicians in the 1700’s which detailed nearly every corner of the globe. Also who can forget the volumes of religious works smuggled out of England after its split with the Church and subsequent persecutions. Each volume meticulously kept minus one thing, a small cut on each of the opening pages. The cut had removed the name of the publisher and patron, as the tides of history had turned against the Church and her people in Great Britain.
After spending a good thirty minutes in the rare book room I came across a gigantic choir book from the 1400’s. It easily was the size of the desktop in my room and weighed forty to fifty pounds. When I carefully pried open its wooden cover and pushed aside its metal lock, I discovered hundreds of pages of carefully drawn choir texts with classic musical notations. The pages, made mainly from animal skins, were filled with the words of hymns written large enough so that an entire monastic community could share it all at once. Occasionally the texts were brilliantly illuminated with incredible detail, artistic design and gold lettering. Overwhelmed, I stood there in shock for several minutes, overcome by what I had seen. Just earlier that day I had been listening to Father Kulbicki discuss the Church of the late Middle Ages, and here I stood with part of its history before my eyes and in my hands.




Judy simply looked on with an amused smile, sharing in the wonder and excitement that accompanied my visit. Not wanting to keep her from her work I quickly concluded my visit and made my way back to my room to file this story.
In the end my adventure allowed me to discover many treasures at the St. Mary’s Library, including the prayers of Symon Paulu, a choir book from the 1400’s and a librarian with a passion for books and an incredible ability to bring them alive for a wandering adventurer.

In Sadness There is Joy

Yesterday afternoon I received a telephone call . When the phone rang I almost answered by saying "yeah, what do you want," as I thought it was one of my buddies down the hall calling. Instead it was my mentor calling to pass on some unfortunate news he had just heard, the pastor of my parish assignment at the seminary had been found dead earlier in the morning. I was of course shocked and saddened. Msgr was scheduled to retire the next day, today. He had recently been diagnosed with ALS, Lou Gehrig's disease and was beginning to have serious mobility issues, but no one expected this at all. From what I understand he had visitors the night before, including a priest friend who gave him a blessing and absolution while he sat in his favorite chair. The next morning he was found having passed away in his chair. Msgr. was a good man who had faithfully given his entire life to serve the Church. In keeping with a dream he had always had, he returned home to the parish of his childhood and spent the last nine years there, where his faith life began. As sad as his passing is I cannot help but to be moved by the beauty of his passing. He quietly passed into eternal life, resting comfortably just feet from his family parish, having just received the Sacrament of the sick and absolution, resting comfortably in his favorite chair. This morning I am off for Mass at the parish. As seminarians we are part of the parish community, serving at Mass and participating in events, classes, etc... This Sunday instead of attending the Pastor's going way party and the 11:30 Mass being said in his honor, we will be praying for him and hoping that he is enjoying the ultimate retirement party, eternal life with He who made us. Today there will be no party, only the tears of a parish and community grateful for the gift of a man who was one of their own and his faith.



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Advent

An excerpt from an article by James Monti:

"The haunting Irish Christmas carol, Don Ouche Ud i m'Beithil (I sing of a night in Bethlehem), sung in Irish, speaks of the first Christmas night as "bright as dawn." The imagery of light piercing the darkness looms large in Ireland's celebration of the birth of Christ, a celebration shaped in part by the struggle to practice the faith under the shadow of persecution.


In Ireland, Advent has traditionally constituted a time of penance, with fasting and increased prayer. Although the realization of the Church's Advent fasting laws has removed the obligation to fast during this season, devout Irish continue voluntarily to prepare themselves for Christmas with this penitential practice. Additional time is allotted for morning and evening prayers, with children encouraged to say the Our Father and Hail Mary extra times. But above all, Advent is in Ireland a season to confess one's sins in the sacrament of penance. In Irish families , it is the mother who particularly assumes the responsibility of making sure that everyone goes to confession by Christmas Eve." . . .

Thanksgiving

Every year I look forward to Thanksgiving and all of the fun that surrond it. Amisdt the chaotic kitchen and crowded living room there is a vibrant buzz that fills our otherwise quiet home. As guests flow in conversations pick up where they left off months and sometimes years earlier. Whatever the case may be there is a real sense of joy and warmth in every corner. This thanksgiving our table was a little quieter than usual. In all honesty it was a lot quieter because someone was missing. My adopted grandmother, Maria Hebert, who has become part of my life for the past seven years was nowhere to be found. She was a character to the highest degree and loved to share wild stories, with all the drama and theatrics a ninety year old from New Orleans could muster. Maria was one of the holiest women I have ever met and one of the most outrageous at the same time. She would spend hours in prayer each day and at the same time use language that would make a trucker blush when describing an annoying neighbor or rival church lady. She was an amazing cook, a good friend and a missed part of our family. This Thanksgiving I am thankful for the wonderful seven years of love and friendship I shared with her. I rest in hopeful faith that she has been welcomed into eternal peace with the Heavenly Father.

This Thanksgiving I remember in my prayers

Maria Hebert, friend and "grandmother'
Tyler Coffey, brilliant student, caring, generous and faith filled young man
Mrs. Alger, a loving mom to a good friend

Happy Thanksgiving!

Last night I made it to the airport 30 minutes before the flight. Thanks to crazy traffic and a slow shuttle bus system at BWI airport it was close. By the time I got to the gate they were already boarding. The flight was full with college students coming home for Thanksgiving, including one Mr. Dylan Clark, one of my greatest Theology students of all time. When I got of the airplane and headed out to meet my ride I was surprised to run into my Uncle who volunteers at the NH visitors information both at the airport. My ride took me to his house where a car was waiting for me with a bag of homemade chocolate chip cookies :)

After a busy day sending out Christmas cards, and hand writing on them, I finally made it home and am ready for bed. I hope to post a Thanksgiving message tomorrow with some pictures, and commentary. Happily my marathon of Pre- Thanksgiving work ended when I finished my last project at 6pm tonight.

A Few Fun Photos

Recently we had a small soccer tournament at the Seminary. We invited guys from Mount St. Marys, the Incarnate Word Seminary and Theological College in Washington, DC to our campus for an afternoon of fun. From the outset we were huge underdogs, particularly when one of the star players of the Mt. St. Marys Seminary (our rivals) soccer team had been a star of the New England Revolution Professional Soccer Team. Despite his talent we held our own and were clobbered with dignity. The real surprise of the day came when the guys from Incarnate Word crushed us all. Most of the seminarians were from South America and must have been playing soccer since the age of one. One of there players even jumped in the air and kicked a ball that was above his head with an incredible flip shot. It was amazing. In my role as Asst. Infirmarian I did have to deal with one sprained ankle. All in all it was a good day.

Prayers Please

Sorry for the delay in posting we are in the midst of pre-Thanksgiving madness at the seminary. This week has been particularly crazy.

Monday night I flew home for a Trinity High School board meeting and then took the red eye back on Tuesday.

Tuesday night the Manchester Seminarians and myself had dinner with Bishop McCormack who is in Baltimore for the Bishops conference. (It was a fun time. He took us out to eat in Little Italy).

Tonight I had dinner with our vocation director who is in town and went for spiritual direction.

Tomorrow night it is meetings and papers all day.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH


The good news is that Thanksgiving is around the corner.


Please keep in your prayers two good friends, Sue and Lorriane who are in the hospital, and a close childhood friend of my mom named Claire who is dying in a hospice in Florida. .