Parish Blog: a vIEW fROM tHE pEW

​​​Day of the dead offerings are altars of pre-Hispanic origin. These are dedicated to different deities and were placed on different dates. However, the one of the Lord of the Dead, Mictlantecuhtli, of Aztec origin, was celebrated in the month that we now know as November. This coincidence was because of the work of evangelizers during La Colonia to make a syncretism between Christianity and indigenous religious beliefs. Originally, the altars were set a couple of days before November 1 and 2, that is, October 30 or 31, and stayed until November 3. Now it is very common that, due to the creative effort invested in placing them, they are set before then and removed afterwards, although November 1 and 2 have not stopped being the main days. According to tradition, on those two dates all the souls that came out of their bodies, that is, our deceased, visit us. 

​Elements of the offerings include:

Photographs of the deceased. It is very common to place portraits of loved ones who are no longer with us. However, we suggest you put some of your favorite photos.

​Incense or copal. The smoke that comes from the copal or incense is the olfactory guide so that our dead can arrive with us.

Candles  These represent fire and light. Like incense, they work as a guide for souls. 

​​Favorite drinks of the deceased and water.

Flower of cempasúchil. This flower of spongy appearance is also known as twenty petals.  They are used mainly to decorate and create paths that guide the spirits of our dead.

Sugar skulls.  In ancient times skulls were used for real, then replaced with skulls made with sugar, chocolate or amaranth. Each skull represents a deceased.

Bread of the dead.  In addition to being delicious, the bread of the dead is the representation of the skeleton.

We observe this tradition because we grew up with this tradition and learned how to respect it and follow it as we do for our Holy Weeks.  And know we  our teaching our kids what  our ancestors taught us .

Blessings from the Martinez Family 
Dios les bendiga 

National Suicide Prevention Week is September 10-16, 2017.  The statistics are sobering; the personal losses are heart-wrenching.  Studies at Emory University found that suicide is the second-leading cause of death among people aged 25 to 34 and the third-leading cause of death among people aged 15 to 24. The National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) says that stigma is one of the most challenging aspects of living with a mental health condition, but we can help erase the stigma by talking openly about mental health and sharing our stories.

In August of 2014, after many years of struggling, my then-22-year-old niece Allison ended her own life.  Needless to say, it was devastating.  Her family and friends have been left to wrestle with unanswerable questions and broken hearts.  One of Allison's best friends, Hannah, who herself has struggled with mental health issues and has already experienced much loss in her young life, wrote a blog which she entitled "All My Friends Are Dead."  Hannah agreed to let me share her writing with you here. 

​"August is a rough month for me. Summer in general brings up so many bad memories. I know I should be enjoying the sun, but my mind is stuck in the clouds.
 
"It was so hot out when I came to visit you. The world felt calm, but the sun was absolutely gleaming. You would have complained about it.

"I sit here next to you, and think about all the amazing times we've had. How our friendship blossomed in Theater Club and all the plays we did together. I loved watching you perform. I saw that spark go off inside of you. I always knew you were so talented, and I adored watching you light up on stage as you became another person.

"I think about the classes we had together, all the after-school clubs, the summers spent swimming in rivers we probably shouldn't be swimming in. We made so much food and had so many laughs. You got sick and I would come see you in the hospital. We both moved away but still visited each other.

"We mostly just sit here in silence while my brain wanders. You don't have much to say. I was hoping it would rain, but it never did. You would have complained about it. If you could talk. 
 
"Going home is always so bittersweet. Most of the people I know have moved away, so I spend my time in cemeteries with my friends. I go to see them and I hope they can see me.

"Allison, you always had something special about you. I don't know if you ever knew that. I wish I could tell you to your face. The day I heard you had killed yourself, I don't think I had ever felt that numb in my whole life. It took a while to register that you had vanished, even though I had seen you smiling and breathing two weeks before.

"I don't want anyone to ever go through what I have gone through, but that's life. So I want to address something to the people who are constantly feeling suicidal. To all the people who want to die, I am not here to guilt trip you. I don't think you're a coward. In fact, I think making the decision to end your own life takes a lot of guts. But don't get me wrong when I say this. It's one of the worst decisions you can make. Trust me, because I have made the decision myself. 
 
"When you think that you want to kill yourself, it's through a foggy mind. Your brain can't focus on what really matters because you're so pent up inside your pain. Your head isn't working properly. I just want you to understand that if you choose this path, what your "life" will be like from now on. Finally everything just stops, like you wanted it to. But now it's us who have to live with the agony. You are gone - no one knows where - and your friends and family are left to pick up the pieces. Not you. 

"There is this tool used in Alcoholics Anonymous called "playing it forward." What that means is to play the tape of your life forward; run it through and see the effects of your actions. What is going to happen if you take that sinful sip? What repercussions will haunt you? What will you lose?

"I wish Allison had played the tape forward. I wish she had thought about what would happen after she pulled the trigger. I know she was only focused on how much she was suffering. And I am happy that she is at peace. But had she played the tape forward, maybe she would have realized what her life would have cost her. I want her to be able to see how her death ricocheted through the lives of those she cared about.

"So I ask that if death is something you are seriously considering, play your tape forward. Once you take that leap into extinction, that's it. It's going to hurt and then you're gone. Your funeral will be held, anguish will be felt for your loss. And then static. Nothing.

"Do you think you get bad FOMO now? Wait until you see all the things you'll miss out on when you're dead. No more dancing. No hope of a future. No more love. No more hugs from your pets. Think about how your death will fuck up the lives of those you cherish most. Your pain isn't gone, you've transferred it to your loved ones' bank accounts. You don't get to wake up from this. You can't fix this once it's too late. I hope you know that.

"I still experience those feelings almost every day. I know how tired you are, how much you think you don't care what happens to you, and how you think everyone will be better off without you. But that's your depression talking. And I wish I had realized that sooner. I wish it didn't take the suicide of one of my closest friends to shake me awake. Your potential suicide affects more than just you.

"So now, when I go home this is how I get to spend my time with you. The only way I can tell you about what's going on in my world is through six feet of dirt. I sit here and tell you about what's new in my life and only hope that you can hear me, wherever you are. Like how excited I am to travel. How I have things to look forward to, and how I've found new hobbies to help me try to be happy. I dyed my hair grey (and you would have loved it!). I think about how you'll never get to have grey hair of your own.

"We should be going to music festivals together (I promised to take you to your first one). We should be picking out dresses to wear and bars to frequent. I wish the whiskey would reach your lips firsthand instead of the dirt that I now pour it onto. When I want to see your sweet face, all I get is a picture on a cold tombstone. I'm sitting here clearing leaves off of your grave when I'd much rather be pushing the hair out of your face instead. It's just too fucking sad.

"I have to get going, but I wish I could take you with me. At least it's so pretty here, as gloomy as it may be. The air feels nice, and I love spending time with you. I just wish you would talk back to me..."

If you or someone you know is thinking your life is not worth living, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK or contact the Crisis Text line by texting TALK to 741-741.

Editor's Note:  Jake Epstein, Seminarian for the Diocese of Des Moines, spoke at the masses at Corpus Christi Parish in July of 2017.  The following are his story he shared, first in English and then in Spanish.

​Hello everyone, my name is Jake Epstein and, as Father said, I am a seminarian for our diocese, the diocese of Des Moines. I am studying to be ordained a priest in 2021, God willing. As you can see, like the other 20 or so men studying for the diocese, I am flesh and blood, just a regular guy. I’m from Urbandale, near Des Moines. I like to go camping, hiking, see movies, all regular stuff. The only thing unusual about me is that I’m in love with God’s Church, and I think he’s calling me to serve him as a priest.

​In light of that call I’ve spent the past two years studying philosophy at Mundelein Seminary, which is near Chicago, and this fall I’ll be starting theology in St Paul, Minnesota. This summer my assignment is to a formation program at Creighton University in Omaha, but luckily my window in the dorm faces east, so even though I’m living in Nebraska all summer I can still see the promised land across the river.

So I’m here this weekend to say two things: the first is “Thank you.” Thank you for all your support for us. I know we’re in many of your prayers, and we appreciate that support more than you know. You all also support our education through the annual diocesan appeal: all the seminarians in college receive some support from the diocese, and for our last four years of study our tuition, room, and board are paid for by your contributions. Thank you very much for making my formation for priesthood possible through that annual diocesan appeal.
​
I also want to encourage you in your own call. We know that the Lord is calling each of us to holiness, to be a saint! And he’s calling each of us to live out that call in a particular way.  So for the young people here, I want to encourage you to take that call seriously. I first felt called to be a priest in 8th grade, right after I got confirmed. I chose the Archangel Gabriel as my confirmation saint, because I wanted to announce the good news to the whole world, just like Gabriel. That got me thinking: although of course we’re all called to announce the good news, that priests do that “full time”, so maybe I should be a priest. That thought was very persistent, but it wasn’t at all welcome. I had all kinds of my own ideas about what I wanted to be doing. Those ideas came from a lot of places: from my friends, from TV and the Internet, from my own fears and ambitions, but they didn’t come from God. They weren’t bad ideas in themselves: I wasn’t choosing between being a priest and being a drug dealer. I wanted to be an engineer, and I did go to college and study chemical engineering, and then I worked as an engineer in Michigan for four years. I had a good job that I enjoyed quite a bit, good friends, everything that was supposed to make me happy, but something just wasn’t right, and those thoughts about becoming a priest never went away.

​What finally changed my mind about them was starting to pray the Angelus one year for Lent. The Angelus is a prayer focused on the Annunciation, when Gabriel (there he is again) appeared to Mary and announced to her the good news, and of course we know that Mary’s “yes” -- that cooperation with God’s grace -- planted the seed for our salvation. Meditating three times a day on Mary’s “yes” to God was a great inspiration to me, but it was also a big kick in the pants from our Blessed Mother to get a move on, because of course what I was doing was almost exactly the opposite. I’d been saying, “No God, you’d better pick some other way for me to serve you; I’m not doing that." What I’d forgotten in all this is that God is our father, and he knows what will make us happy much better than we do. And in following after all these other ideas for my life, I had shut out God’s plan. I can say that following God’s plan, rather than my own and others’ plans, has been a tremendous adventure and has taken me all kinds of places I never thought I’d go. 

​And to all of you parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles out there, I want to encourage you not to be afraid to talk to people in your life about priesthood or religious life. Since I started seminary, so many of my family and friends have told me, “I always wondered if you’d be a priest."  I always appreciate hearing that, but nobody ever asked me about it before seminary, when it might have been really helpful! So don’t be afraid to ask people. You’re not putting too much pressure on them. Young people get pressure from every direction imaginable, so putting a word about what God might be asking them to do isn’t saying too much. And it isn’t something to be afraid of pursuing. You can talk to Fr. Tom, Fr. Carlos, you can call up the Vocation Director for the Diocese, Fr. Ross Parker, you can visit us up at seminary, or you can visit a religious order and no one is going to cart you off and make you a priest or a nun right away, I promise. So don’t be afraid to make that first step if it’s something you’ve ever wondered about, or prayed about, and don’t be afraid to encourage your kids, brothers, sisters, friends, or whoever.

I want to thank you all for having me this weekend, thank you again for all of your support, and, again, encourage you to answer God’s call to holiness in your own life, wherever that leads you.

​Buenas tardes a todos, me llamo Jake Epstein. Soy un seminarista de nuestra diócesis, la diócesis des Des Moines. Primero Dios, voy a ser ordenado sacerdote en cuatros años más. Como pueden ver, soy un ser humano real, no sólo una foto en el póster. Soy de Urbandale, cerca de Des Moines, me gusta ir de camping, ver películas, como muchas otras personas. La diferencia es que nuestro Señor me ha llamado a servirle a él y su iglesia.

Es por eso que desde hace dos años estudio filosofía en un seminario de Chicago. Y este otoño voy a empezar a estudiar la teología en el Seminario de San Paulo en St Paul, Minnesota. Este verano, estoy en la Universidad de Creighton tomando algunas clases de espiritualidad. Afortunadamente, mi ventana mira hacia al este, así que aunque estoy en Nebraska, puedo mirar la tierra prometida.

Estoy aquí hoy para decir dos cosas. Primero: gracias. Gracias por todo su apoyo hacia los seminaristas. Yo sé que estamos en sus oraciones, y apreciamos eso más que cualquier otra cosa. También ustedes nos apoyan a través del Annual Diocesan Appeal: todos los seminaristas de la diócesis recibimos algún apoyo, y en nuestros últimos cuatros años de estudio estos son pagados por la diócesis, es decir, por todos ustedes. Por eso muchas gracias.

También me gustaría alentarles en sus propias vocaciones. Sabemos que nuestro Señor está llamando a cada persona a la santidad. Sin embargo, cada uno de nosotros está llamado a vivirla de una manera particular, y especial. Quiero decirles a los jóvenes que esa llamada es seria. Yo no entré en el seminario hasta que tuve veintiséis años porque tuve mis propias ideas sobre lo que quería hacer. Pero me olvidé que Dios es nuestro padre, y él sabe lo que nos hará felices. Puedo decirles que siguiendo el plan de Dios, en vez del mio, esta aventura ha sido mejor que cualquier cosa que podría haber planeado.

Y a todos: padres, tios, abuelos, amigos, me gustaría alentarles a hablar con sus familiares acerca de las vocaciones. Desde que empecé el seminario, mi familia y mis amigos dijeron, “Siempre pensé que quizás serías un sacerdote.” Yo pienso que eso es muy agradable, pero hubiera sido mejor si me lo hubieran dicho antes de que yo entrara al seminario. En ese momento quizá podría haberme ayudado. Por eso yo digo no tengan miedo de decir algo acerca de la vocación.

Si ustedes tienen preguntas, pueden hablar con el Padre Carlos, con nuestro director vocacional, el Padre Ross Parker, o pueden visitar un seminario o un convento. Les prometo que no los van a secuestrar. Por eso no tengan miedo de dar ese primer paso si tienen algunas preguntas. Solo es el primer paso, no es el último. No dudes en acercarte a alguien.
​
Gracias a todos por aceptarme este fin de semana con ustedes. Gracias de nuevo por todo su apoyo, y una vez más, asegúrense de estar atentos a la llamada de Dios, donde quiera que él les lleva.

​What a year of travel Kathy and I have experienced. In our travels we visited the Arizona desert region of the Southwest, the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, the Gulf Coast of Florida, and the pastoral farmlands of northeast Iowa. Each region containing its own beauty. Each allowing me to appreciate the wonder and awe of God’s creation. 

In St. Paul’s letter to the Romans he writes, “They know the truth about God because he has made it obvious to them. Forever since the world was created, people have seen the earth and sky. Through everything God made, they can clearly see his invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature. So they have no excuse for not knowing God.” New Living Translation Romans 1:19-20

“God speaks to man through the visible creation. The material cosmos is so presented to man’s intelligence that he can read there traces of its Creator. Light and darkness, wind and fire, water and earth, the tree and its fruit speak of God and symbolize both his greatness and his nearness.” Catechism of Catholic Church paragraph 1147

​Nestled among the farmlands of northeast Iowa are many forests and streams. God’s quiet and gentle presence solicits a sense of peace and contentment. A feeling of being home. The home of St. Francis evoked the same emotions years ago when on pilgrimage to Assisi, Italy.

​​​For over 25 years our family has traveled to Backbone State Park for our family vacations, starting with our kids and now their children. There seems to be something for everyone to enjoy in the great outdoors. For myself it is hiking and fishing. 
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When hiking, I enjoy a trail that takes me through a stand of tall pines. It is there that I often stop, close my eyes, and listen as a gentle breeze moves through the pines, causing them to whisper ever so quietly. I am reminded of Elijah as he recognized God in the gentle whisper of the wind. 1 Kings 19:12

My favorite activity is being on the trout stream fly fishing. The water is so clear you can see the trout swimming below you. I will forever be like a kid fishing, it is always a thrill to hook into a fish.
​
​​In the gospel of Mark and Mathew Jesus sees Simon and Andrew casting their nets into the sea. He invited them, “Come follow me and I will make you fishers of men.” As we know, they dropped their nets and followed Jesus.

During this era of the New Evangelization, we too are called to be fishers of men. Like the apostles we are called to drop what we are doing, become followers of Jesus and then to share our love for him with others.
​
Evangelizing is much like fishing. To be successful at both requires knowing and understanding their needs and desires, the right bait is important, and finally the correct presentation. 
​
The desires and needs of one person may, and will, be different for another person. Time needs to be taken to get to know them and for them to know you.

At the end of your fishing adventure, whether for fish or for men, there is one thing you don’t have to do after fishing for men. You don’t have to clean them. Jesus has already done the dirty work. By his death on the cross we have been washed clean by his blood.

A sign hangs over my office door, “To fish or not to fish? What a stupid question!” Get out there and get to fishing.

​“At the heart of every family tradition is a meaningful experience.”  (Author Unknown)
 
In 1965, Maxine Hast – wife of Harold (“Dean”), then a young airman in the US Air Force – purchased a simple white dress in Lincoln, Nebraska, for her eldest daughter to wear for the celebration of her First Holy Communion at the Lincoln Air Force Base Chapel that December.  Little did she know at the time what an impact that little white dress would have in the future as the family moved and grew over the years.  Following is a poem written by Kris Reicks, the third of the seven wearers of the dress.

The Little White Dress
​
Purchased in 1965 by a young mother of four
A simple white dress is now at the core
Of a family tradition which began that December
The girls in the Hast family all fondly remember

Lincoln, Nebraska was where it all started
This family tradition here being charted
Debi, the eldest, wearing lacy anklets and veil
Knelt to receive Jesus at the communion rail

​​The spring of ’66 brought the second daughter’s chance
It was now Kathi’s turn to share in the dance
Wearing the dress proudly and looking quite smart
She too knelt at the rail to take Jesus into her heart

The simple white dress was then lovingly packed
Into the mother’s cedar chest to keep it intact
From Lincoln to Wichita to Rapid City they moved
But from the chest the dress was never removed

​​​In Rapid City, South Dakota, after waiting five years
In the spring of ‘71, the simple white dress reappears
With a new veil for Kristi, and with knee-highs this time,
Daughter number three accepted Jesus’ body most divine

Then the simple white dress was once again packed
Into the mother’s cedar chest to keep it intact
From South Dakota to Iowa the family relocated
And inside the chest the dress sat and waited

 Twenty-four years later in the spring of ‘95
The family tradition once again came alive
When Sara, the eldest granddaughter, wore
That simple white dress to accept Jesus at her core

​​​Then in 2001 came a trip to Grand Island
To prove that the tradition would not end
The second granddaughter, Amanda, did also wear
That simple white dress to receive Jesus with care​​

​In the spring of 2008 the dress was revived
To confirm the tradition indeed had survived
The eldest great-granddaughter, Allison Raelynn,
Also wore the dress proudly to take Jesus in

​The tradition continues after nine precious years
With the seventh wearing and perhaps some happy tears
As the second great-grandaughter, McKayla Avery,
Wears the little white dress to accept Jesus bravely​

​The simple white dress will once again be re-packed
Into the now elderly mother’s cedar chest to keep it intact
What the future holds for it is, of course, yet a mystery
But, regardless, its place is retained in family history​

After nearly 52 years, the little dress does show its age a bit, but the family memories that go along with it are more precious than gold and it has surely earned a special place in the hearts of the girls who had the privilege and honor to wear it for their First Holy Communion celebrations.
 
Now I commend you because you remember me in everything and maintain the traditions even as I delivered them to you. ~ 1 Corinthians 11:2