Unto Us a Child is Born!

Merry Christmas, and may God bless us, everyone!

Open House, 2019!

These are my remarks at our open house at St. Michael, November 7, 2019

Good evening, and welcome! 

We hope that you’ll enjoy this evening—You're going to  meet our students, sit in some of our classes to watch our teachers in action, talk with our coaches and other teachers, listen to our band—and walk away with a pretty clear window on who we are and how we do things. 

But allow me for just a moment to speak not so much on the "how" and instead talk about the “why."  Why are we here? Why do I work here? Why does St. Michael exist? 

Our mission statement says it simply: We’re trying to build “scholars, leaders and disciples of Jesus Christ.”

The thing is, we live in a culture that is very pessimistic about teenagers. It tells them over and over that they’re not capable of handling disappointment (so we give everyone a trophy), or that they’re not capable of real scholarship (so we inflate their grades), or that living morally is impossible (so we teach them “safe sex” instead). And the truly harmful effect of this messaging is that teenagers begin to believe all these things about themselves. 

But that’s not our view!  We believe teenagers are children of God, temples of the Holy Spirit, and infused with the grace of Christ, "who strengthens us, and through whom we can do all things." (Philippians 4:13). They—and we—are called to holiness! They—and we—are called to be saints! 

We want students to "go for it," to extend themselves beyond their comfort zones, to delve deeper into their studies, to try out for teams (even if they're not selected), to join new clubs, to serve others in new ways, and to strive for excellence. In so doing, we believe students will grow into young men and women who are happy, confident in their futures, and ready to make a difference in this world. 

See, the thing is, I believe teens are hungry, deep down, to be challenged. They are utterly bored and uninspired by an accommodating, "lowest common denominator" approach to life. They want their lives to matter; they want to be challenged by the gospel, to believe that such a life is possible, and they are powerfully attracted to people who are living as if it is.

A high school can have a transformational impact on a student’s sense of “self” over a four year period!  If they soak in a culture of optimism, if they are immersed in a culture of excellence, if they’re blessed by teachers who care about them and lift them up when they stumble, and if they’re elevated by a dynamic, lively faith, we believe Catholic high schools can change students' lives!  

That’s our “why”, and I think if you talk to our teachers and get to know them, they’ll have their own way of saying it, but their “why” is the same. 

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You would be entering St. Michael at an exciting time in our young history.  

• We think we’re going to be close to maximum enrollment next year, and may even have wait lists for the freshman year as early as January. We started at 99 kids in 2016, then 190, then 290, and this year, 322. We’ll graduate a relatively small senior class of 56, and bring in about 90 new freshman, and counting some attrition, should come in around 340-350 next year. 

• We’re now a complete 9-12 program, with academic levels at either the Collegiate Studies or Honors/AP level. We offer up to 9 A.P. classes for those capable of those classes, with a full array of elective offerings in music, art, chorus, science, weight-lifting, languages and other classes. We have a resource program, called  Aegis, for students with documented learning disabilities, and a wonderful teacher whose job it is to assist these kids make their way through our Collegiate Studies program.

• Our athletic teams will be starting their 3rd year at the varsity level, with 11 current varsity teams, and will be likely adding golf as a 12th varsity team next year. 

• We’re beginning a five year building project for additional athletic facilities, made possible by a successful 5 million dollar capital campaign,  and will be starting on the construction of a 10,000 square foot field house this spring, to include a weight room, male and female locker rooms, coaches’ offices, a media room and athletic trainer’s office. When the money is in hand from the pledges, we’ll also be building a football/soccer stadium, a baseball field, a central concessions/bathroom complex, and adding over 500 additional parking places. We are now blessed to own 80 acres here—and will have lots of room to expand as our path becomes clearer in the future. 

• I believe we have a first rate faculty and staff. Well credentialed, experienced, they enjoy teenagers, and care for them. 

• And though we’re beginning our 5th year next year, we’re still young enough that we’re still creating ourselves—and so we’re looking for families, for students, who will co-create this place with us. So it’s kind of  cool time to be a student here—if a student sees a gap somewhere—like in our extra curricular clubs, for example, perhaps she or he recruit a teacher to sponsor it, and then can be the founder of that club to fill that gap!  

I can tell you—It’s a fun place to work,  a fun place to study, a fun place to grow up! I think our students would say it’s hard work at times, but they’d also say they have a lot of fun here.  Hopefully, you’ll get a sense of all that tonight as you meet people. 

I’ll be around all evening. Will be happy to talk with you personally if you have questions. 

Seniors: Lead, Finish!

Note: This is the talk to the senior class of St. Michael on October 21, 2019

This humorous video actually says a lot about leadership. When the first guy starts dancing, he looks like a nut job, subject to ridicule. No doubt being the first to do something is important, but I believe the most important person in the video is the second guy to join in.  He’s the one who assures everyone watching that the first guy isn’t an idiot to be laughed at, but instead, to be imitated. He’s the guy that now sends a “trend, ” and through his example, makes it easier for the rest to join in. Pretty soon, everyone’s dancing. 

No doubt, seniors, you grew tired of hearing all throughout your careers at St. Michael that last year’s seniors were “first.” Yes, they were. And yes, you are correct to respond that YOU are the first “four year” class to graduate from St. Michael, the first to enroll as freshman and graduate as seniors. On May 14, 2020, your graduation night, I will emphasize this point.  You will always have an important place in the history of this school! 

But this morning, I want you to consider this proposition: Your senior year will have enormous impact on the history of this school and what we’ll become, precisely because you’re the second class. 

Like the 2nd guy in the video, you will determine if the first class is an outlier, the dancing idiot in the park, or whether St. Michael truly becomes what it wants to be. The underclassmen are watching you, waiting—to see if they’ll join in, too, or just make fun of the first guy. 

A mentor of mine once said that it takes about 3 minutes of walking into a new high school to evaluate it, because the fundamental question is simple: Is it an “adult” culture, or a “adolescent” culture? Are there standards of conduct around the building—language, dress, relationships, respectful interactions between students with students, students with teachers, litter—that reflect a decorum that is indicative of adult behavior, or do the standards suggest the opposite? 

The answer to that question usually depends on the senior class and what it will or won't allow of the underclassmen. Here’s a fact I don't like to point out too often:  You have us out-numbered! Counting all the adults who work here, faculty and staff, there are 38 of us and 321 of you! That means it’s impossible for the adults alone to “set” a culture here. It depends on you, the seniors, mostly through your example.  

Underclassmen are often “monkey see, monkey do.” If you are doing it, it’s OK. If you cheat, by your example, you tell the underclassmen it’s OK to cheat. If you routinely violate the school’s cell phone policy, then underclassmen will follow. If you skirt the dress code, or speak poorly of your teachers or classmates, or curse, or leave trash around the cafeteria or courtyard, so too will they. They’re watching you closely, even though they’d wouldn't admit to doing so.  You create the culture here. You really do! 

So first off, I want to thank you for your leadership that you’re ALREADY shown here this year. I’ve been impressed with you. You guys really HAVE picked up the mantel and become an example for underclassmen. But this morning, as we begin the second quarter, I want to encourage you to continue doing that, and to ask you to avoid FOUR trends that I often see develop in seniors as they move through the year. 

• The first is a kind of selfishness--it's all about me.  You may see this from time to time in your classmates, and you’ll see it often in college next year. It’s easy for school to become “all about me”: my grades, my test scores, my applications, my friends, my classes. We put on narrow blinders and can't take in the panoramic view to includes others, or recognize classmates having a bad day, or notice the underclassman who needs a comforting word. Do you know how powerful you are? Do you know what effect you can have on younger students, simply noticing they are sad or unhappy, and asking them if they’re  is OK? They will likely remember that kindness the rest of their lives!  Reach beyond yourself.  That’s how we become joyful and happy—by giving. Don’t fall into the temptation to become selfish in your senior year. 

• Gnosticism”—OK, let me revert back to my theological training to explain. Gnosticism is one of the most persistent heresies in the Christian Church, dating back to the first century. You can detect its influence through out history in a lot of the behavior of politicians, kings, and other people in power, and yes, in seniors in high school!  Gnostics believe it is the KNOWLEDGE of the truth that is most important—that knowledge, not our deeds, “save” us. So rules of behavior, a moral code—that’s for the ignorant masses (the uneducated, the peasants, the underclassmen)—not for we who are enlightened. In seniors, there’s a strong temptation to start believing that school rules really only apply to underclassmen, that "yes, we understand that the school has to have rules, but hey, we no longer need to follow them."   Resist that temptation please. I will find ways to acknowledge your status as seniors here, but I ask that you respect the rules set in place regardless. If you give in to gnosticism, you will instantly cease to become the leaders the school needs you to be.

• Defeatism and Apathy—“We can’t make a difference, and furthermore, who cares? I’m out of here in a few months anyway. “  Wow, this is always sad for me as principal when I see students with this attitude. We humans have a tendency to rush ahead to the next thing, always believing the grass is greener, but then regret we didn’t enjoy what we once had. I see this in parents, sometimes, who focus on work, then regret they didn’t spend more time with their children once they leave for college. ENJOY these last months of high school! Stay active! Make a difference, so that when you DO look back on the high school years, you’ll do so without regret, knowing that you threw yourself into it, made good friends, and did good things there. Don’t “check out early.” College comes quickly enough, with new pressures, new stresses, changing friendships.

• “Senioritis”—Though we often joke about it, “senior-itis, ” is a real thing. You’ll feel its tug more and more powerfully as the senior year progresses, especially after you get accepted into the college you want. But it is a shame to run a really strong race, even leading around the final turn, and then limp to the finish line and watch everyone pass by you! Finish strong. Remember you must send your final grades to your college in June. Though it’s rare, I have seen colleges withdraw their scholarship offers based on 2nd semester grades. But even beyond that, I think you want to look back on high school and be proud of what you’ve accomplished. It’s mind over matter—you can will yourself to do what you don’t feel like doing. Work hard. Finish strong. 

I want you to have a fun senior year! Yes, there’s work to do, Many of you are taking more A.P. classes than ever, but you’re handling it well, because you’ve matured, and because you know how to study, and use your time well. Senior year is special. Make sure you include each other in your activities. Look for ways to pull those on the outside into the inside, to be able to say, "He or she is a little different, but he/she is one of us. Don’t exclude each other in your graduation parties, for example. Say  "We're seniors, and this is our class and our school! " Celebrate your standing as our first four year class, but also embrace the idea that as the #2 class, you set the trend!  It'll be up to you guys if the rest of the school follows. 

God bless. 

Burmese Pythons, Drugs and “Invasive Species”

Note: This was my talk with students on Monday, September 16, 2019

This months’s Smithsonian magazine has an article on burmese pythons. They are one of the four largest snakes in the world; females grow to an average of 14-16 feet long. They're also excellent predators, eating small mammals, such as raccoons and opossums, but also birds and other reptiles. They’re excellent swimmers, and like an alligator, can stay just below water level with its nostrils flaring up to breathe, waiting stealthily for its prey to come swimming by. But they can also camouflage themselves on dry land, in bushes, or slither into rabbit holes, or raid fox dens and other breeding holes. 

They’ve become a serious problem in the Everglades, mostly because they are not native to the area. Their natural habitat is southeast Asia, but biologists believe because of the exotic pet trade, which is illegal but rampant in Florida, many pythons have been released into the wild. In fact there was a python breeding facility and zoo in south Florida which was wiped out by Hurricane Andrew in 1992, with all of its pythons escaping.  They breed prolifically—mothers give birth to 60-100 offspring at a time, and now the python has been labeled an official “invasive species” to the Everglades.  

When predator and prey evolve in the same ecosystem together, the predator's  skill as a hunter develop along side the prey’s ability to detect danger and evade. But if someone artificially inserts a non-native predator into that environment, the prey hasn’t evolved the natural instincts to be wary of that predator, and it becomes easy pickings for the predator. 

So it’s become a real problem for the ecosystem in the Everglades. The small mammal population is decreasing at an alarming rate, so much so that teams of scientists are now dedicated to removing as many pythons as possible. They don’t believe it’s possible to wipe them out completely; instead, they're trying to contain the population by targeting females and killing them before they give birth.. But these snakes are really hard to find! Just as they are excellent predators, they are also excellent at evading detection by humans. So they go about finding the females in an interesting way: If they find a male python, rather than kill it, they geo-tag it, so they can trace their whereabouts. Because males are solitary hunters, the scientists know that if two or more males are in the same location, a female is likely nearby. They then hunt her down.  

I’ve been thinking about this idea of “invasive species”—non-native animals that come in and disrupt or take over an environment. You could use that as a good way of talking about sin—that God created a habitat for us which was fundamentally good, but because of sin, an invasive species, our habitat was corrupted to the detriment of us all. 

You could also use this metaphor to talk about high school, with the influence of drugs on student life. Drugs are an "invasive species" that destroy school culture from the inside, one student at a time. I’ve known kids, good kids, who began using drugs—and then through their contacts with other drug users, began to sell drugs to support their habit. I have a particularly sad memory of a young man from 15 or so years ago who was very active in his Church—sincerely so, I believe.  He was charismatic and likable, with many friends, but he began smoking pot as a sophomore, then began to pull away from his school friends, then got bored with pot and started using harder stuff as a junior, and by his senior year was selling drugs to support a full scale addiction. His whole life fell apart when he let this “invasive species” take over his life. 

You know we drug test here. We chose five students, randomly, every Wednesday. It’s a “hair test,” which is a little less intrusive than a urine test, and it detects usage up to about one month. The purpose of our drug test is not to “catch you.” Instead, it’s to help you say “no” if you’re in a place where people offer you drugs and you might feel peer pressure to participate. You can say “I go to a school that drug tests. I can’t risk it. “ They will respect that. 

Also, we don’t kick you out if you test positive the first time. We want to work with you and your parents. But if you’re dealing, you’re gone, instantly. The only real question is whether you’re also arrested, and that will depend on the circumstances. Our first obligation is the health and safety of our students. Like a burmese python in the everglades, we cannot allow this invasive species of drugs to destroy the culture of the school and make it unsafe. 

Look, you can have enormous influence on this issue—more effective than a random drug test. If you see friends or classmates going in the wrong direction, have the strength and courage to tell them so. And if it continues, or if you’re worried about someone, let some trusted adult know about it. Let that be the adult’s burden, not yours. But don’t watch a friend or classmate crumble before your eyes and do nothing. 

I pray for you guys. There’s a lot of pressure on you—grades, friendships, reputation. I pray that God gives you grace, and courage to live holy lives. But God wants you to pray also. Use our chapel to ask God to give you strength. Ask him to show you the path for you life. You don’t bear your burdens alone. 

Let’s all be wary of invasive species in our personal lives, and in the “ecosystem” of our school. 

Beginning our Fourth Year Together

Note: This is my opening year talk with parents on our "Back to School Night" on August 28, 2019

“Scholars, leaders, disciples of Jesus Christ. “

This is what we want our students to become--straight from our mission statement.   It is deliberately aspirational, something we all aim for. We’ll all fall short of it—we as teachers, you as parents, our students. Failure is part of growing up—so don’t get too upset if from time to time your kid does poorly on an assignment, or forgets something, or if a coach benches him for a time. It’s part of their maturation.  Our mission gives us a clear direction, and a clear measuring stick for our success. 

Parents are the primary educators—the role of the school is to support you in that role, "to extend the franchise of families,” I once heard it described. One of the natural sources of friction between teenagers and parents is they are trying to find their own voice, and to do so, they must step outside of the large shadow you cast, to distinguish your voice from theirs. But when they step outside of that shadow, they step into ours—and if the school and family are together, your values, your “voice” is being echoed by us, in the culture we create, in the values we are trying to instill them. There are a lot of other voices, clamoring for their attention! So it’s critical that our relationship is one of partnership.  Neither of us work “for” the other. We work “with” each other. 

In fact, in Catholic educational philosophy, the most important relationship in a school is NOT the teacher and student, but the teacher and parent. Our unity of purpose is a precondition for our right relationships with the kids. 

I think there are two take-aways from that: 

Let’s avoid 3rd person pronouns when speaking about each other. Not “they” or “them” but "us!" I say that not only to you as parents, but to our teachers. Let’s get to know each other by our first names, if possible.  Tonight is a good first step toward that as we meet each other. We—all of us!—are the Cardinals! 

Second, when our children come home and tell us horror stories about this or that teacher, or if they tell US horror stories about you, let’s give each other the benefit of the doubt. My former principal used to say, “We agree to believe only half of what teenagers tell us about you as parents, if you agree to only believe half of what they tell you about us.” The point is, there’s a difference between the lens through which a teen sees the world, and an adult. We who have a wider-angle lens are better able to contextualize. So if something comes up,  let’s agree to talk with each other, rather than harbor grudges or misperceptions. 

As we begin the year together, I have three additional requests of you:

1) Please act as our ambassadors—parents choose schools for their children by word of mouth. Speak well of us to your co—workers, your friends, your extended family. We want good kids here. We THINK that we’re going to have a wait list next year—we graduate a relatively small class of 58 seniors and expect a freshman class of 85 or so, which puts us at capacity. So urge them to apply early, in the October-November time frame. 

2) I ask that if you’re able, to be generous to the school. One of the things I am most proud of about our first three years—is that NO FAMILY has been turned away because of inability to afford our full tuition. Every family pays something, but because of your generosity to the Annual Fund, because of the support of the Guardian Angel fund, we’ve been able to supplement their tuition to bridge the difference. That depends on your continued generosity—please support Jenny Kopf, our Advancement and Admissions Director, and our Annual Fund initiatives this year. 

3) And for my last request, let me share a quick story:  The year before the school opened, I spent a lot of time in the three elementary schools, drumming up support for this new thing called St. Michael. I distinctly remember a conversation I had with a group of wonderful 8th grade girls from St. Patrick, and I asked them if they were excited to be coming to here as part of the inaugural freshman class. Of course they were, but they also said, endearingly, that they would miss St. Patrick. 

Those 8th graders are now seniors at St. Michael—they and their classmates will be the first 4-year graduates of the school on May 14, 2020-- the class of 2020! One of them, Hannah Gay, came to the office a few days before school started, and I mentioned to her that it seemed like just yesterday I was talking to her and her friends at St. Patrick—and here they are, seniors. She choked up with emotion and tears, and I teased her a little bit about it—but truth be told, I got choked up too. These last three years have been amazing. 

But they go by fast! Blink,  and your freshman will be a senior! A number of senior moms said to me at Cardinal Day a few weeks ago --that they remembered me saying that in this meeting, three years ago, and they said they were "feeling it."  These are special years. So this is my last request: Get involved. Join things, like our wonderful PTO or Booster Club. Help out with advancement initiatives. Assist as team parents for ball clubs. No parents have ever said, EVER!--as they prepare to say goodbye to their kids for college, "I wish I would have spent LESS time with my child, or LESS time involved in the life of his or her school!"

We’ll be a stronger school with your involvement, you’ll be a stronger family, and you won’t have any regrets at the end of this very short ride. 

Enjoy the evening! You're dismissed to go meet your child's teachers--don't linger!

Welcome to Year IV!

This is my talk to students at the beginning of the 2019-20 school year.

Good morning! I have 3 thoughts I want to share with you to begin the year.

First, upperclassmen may remember me saying this last year, but I think it bears repeating. I know it sounds a little odd when a principal tells you this: I hope you fail, and fail often this year.

Let me explain--I am not a masochist that takes pleasure in your pain! Do you remember the first time you've ever went roller skating? It's not hard to pick out the first-timers: they're the ones clinging to the rails all the way around the rink. If you remember, it's a little embarrassing, especially since kids much younger than you are blowing by you, weaving through traffic, backwards and forward. At some point, if you're going to have any fun at all, you have to push yourself off the rails and risk a wipe-out. The first time I did it,  I got about 20 feet before making an ugly, spectacular fall, feet first, landing hard on my backside. So what do you do? You go back to the rails, regain your balance for a bit, and push off again. And maybe you get a few feet farther this time, before crashing again. And so on and so on.

High school, too, is a time to push off the rails--and in so doing, to risk failure. Maybe you volunteer an answer in class when no one seems willing to do so. Maybe you try out for a team, even at the risk of getting cut. Maybe you enroll in an honors or A.P. class for the first time. Maybe you ask a girl out, even if she might say (kindly, I hope girls!) no thank you.  The willingness to risk failing is a sign of courage and health, and it's the only way we grow and make life interesting.

Do that here. I am proud of this school, because I see students doing that every day, and I see a student body that doesn't jeer at them, but respects them. I think of people like Connor Robitaille who joins the cross country team, or Lachlan McAloon who runs for student government, or Maeve Andrews who joins the bowling team, or Marc Nyantaski who stands before you and raps about being a Christian,  or those of you who performed in the talent show last year, or all those of you who have joined a sport that you've never played before.

Let's keep being that kind of school. I want to encourage you to try new things, join new clubs, stretch yourself-- and when you fail, dust yourself off, go back to the rails to regain your balance, and push off again. And I want you to continue to be a student body that respects your classmates when they take these risks, encourages them and supports them. Have the courage, St. Michael students, to fail often!

Second, don't be the first one going south down Higbee Road every day after school. If you're rushing out of here each day at dismissal, I predict high school is going to be dreadfully boring. Instead, get involved in things. School is school, and we'll make it as interesting as we can, but sometimes it's just hard work. But the joy of high school is in the friendships, and those friendships are formed when you are team-mates with someone, or you're involved in a club with someone, or you sing or play in the band with someone.

Join up. In a couple of weeks, we're going to have "Club Rush," where students put out tables and invite you to become active in their clubs. Sign up for 3-4 things, try them out, see what suits you. Start a new club--we're still new enough that you can do that, if you can also find a faculty sponsor. And come to ball games to cheer on your team! We play our first home football game on Thursday, and I hope to see all 323 of you at the game.

Third, don't be boring. So no one wants to be boring, right? Yet so many people are! And all these boring people really have one thing in common--they're all about themselves. They talk about themselves. They're awful listeners, because ultimately they don't care about what YOU are saying, and will try and twist the conversation right back to themselves. They don't do anything unless it benefits them. No one really wants to be around these kinds of people.

If you want to be UN-boring, then live for others. Serve others. Listen to others. Note your classmates who are lonely, or sitting by themselves, or having a tough day and reach out to them. Invite them to sit with you. Invite them out with your friends at night. These are the people with many friends. These are the people that if there's a big room, with many people standing around, are the ones surrounded, having conversations, laughing.

You see, God made us this way. We are happiest not when we GET something, but when we give. We feel better about ourselves when we do, and others feel better about us. And if you REALLY want to live an exciting life, give yourself to God. Say to him, as Jesus did, "your will be done." That's where the adventure starts!

Since boring people think about themselves constantly, they have their lives all mapped out. They can tell you who their friends will likely be, the school they'll attend, the kind of person they'll marry one day, the job they want. As if THEY were in charge of each step of their journey.  But when we live for others, when we say to God "your will be done," life is full of surprises, which brings us enthusiasm and excitement to our lives.

Want a dull life? Live for yourself. Want an exciting, unboring life? Live for others and live for God.

In closing, when Archbishop Rodi named our school "St. Michael," he said one of the reasons was to honor the first bishop of Mobile, Michael Portier. When Michael Portier was ordained a priest, as he lay prostrate on the floor at St. Mary's seminary in Baltimore in 1818 as part of his ordination ceremony for the priesthood, he prayed for "good health and the zeal, always and everywhere, to spread the sacred fire." As you begin this new year at St. Michael, I pray that all of us--you, our teachers, our staff, myself--catch this same fire that excites us, that ignites us, to serve God in all that we do.

May God bless you this year!

Devastating News for this Teacher

Note: My sister Caroline teaches at a Catholic middle school and is also a mother of John Paul, a middle schooler.  These are her remarks, as seen through these two perspectives. I am posting with her permission.

It’s that time of the year when some of my students tell me they’re not returning to our Catholic school. I always give them a hug and tell them I’ll miss them. But interiorly, I’m devastated. As someone who has spent a lifetime in a Catholic school classroom - either sitting in a desk or standing behind a podium - it makes me deeply, deeply sad. And quite frankly - mystified. I know that no school of any kind is perfect: principals and teachers have good days and bad … some teachers are excellent and some ho-hum … I homeschooled for 15 years and I can assure you that was not perfect either!!! But I cannot think of what benefit could outweigh the myriad blessings that come from a Catholic education. I’ve personally witnessed this is in my own life, in the lives of my 5 children, and in the lives of my students. I honestly don’t think parents have a true understanding of what their kids will be missing.

There are plenty of scholarly articles out there with stats on and figures on the excellence of Catholic education (superior test scores, graduates that are civically involved, etc). I encourage everyone to do their research and read them. But here I would simply like to focus on the effects in my own family. I think about my own John Paul, about to start 8th grade. His education (and especially his faith life) would be so lacking without the experiences he has gained in our Catholic school. Here’s just a small portion of what he would have missed:

• Opportunities to assist at Mass. Weekly school Masses bring innumerable opportunities for kids to lector, bring up the gifts, usher, and especially to serve at the altar. John Paul and his peers are often asked to serve at funerals during the week, which is a wonderful way to live out the Works of Mercy to “Bury the dead” and “Pray for the living and the dead.” It also reminds them of their own mortality – never a bad thing for a teenager!

• Immersion in a life of prayer. The Catholic school day revolves around prayer and the sacraments. John Paul would have missed out on quarterly confessions, weekly Adoration, weekly Mass, class rosaries, Stations of the Cross, May Crownings, and more. Since prayers are frequently recited, they are learned effortlessly. In our school, for example, we pray the same morning prayer for a month, so by the end of the month the entire school (even the littlest ones) can recite beautiful prayers like St. Ignatius’ Prayer for Generosity, the Suscipe, the Anima Christi, St. Francis’ Prayer for Peace, St. Patrick’s Breastplate, the Act of Faith, The Morning Offering, and on and on. We didn’t come close to memorizing that many prayers as homeschoolers. These prayers will stay with my kids their whole lives.

• Participation in Middle School Prayer Groups. John Paul has been part of the Young Men of St. Joseph that meets before school for breakfast and to read and discuss the upcoming Sunday Gospel. (The girls have their own equivalent group.) He also joined Lifesavers, a middle school peer-led pro-life group that meets at 6:30 am at Planned Parenthood on Fridays during the Forty Days for Life campaign. They pray the Rosary and listen to a speaker on some important life issue. These unique experiences have helped his faith mature.

• Reliance on God in Times of Crisis. In a Catholic school, we come together in times of crisis, and this is engrained in students their entire lives, whether they fall away or remain faithful. Whenever there is a tragedy like the attack on 9-11 or a sudden death, we stop everything and go to Mass or pray the Rosary as a school. What a powerful life lesson! Recently, we had a tragic death of a young college student who had gone to our grade school. Who showed up front and center at the funeral and Rosary but her Catholic grade school friends, many of whom had not kept in touch over the years. There was something about their Catholic school formation that drew them there.

• Friendship with Clergy. With so many bad examples currently blasted all over the media, I am grateful that John Paul is on a first-name basis with holy, excellent priests and religious. We are blessed to have 5 seminarians from our parish - graduates of our grade school. On breaks they always come by to hang out: they eat lunch with us, play basketball games at PE, speak during religion classes, assist at school Masses. Seminary life seems normal – and actually pretty cool - to our middle schoolers as a result. John Paul would have missed out on all this if not enrolled in our school.

• Instruction in our Catholic Faith. Of course religion classes are crucial. John Paul was in a good CCD program when younger, but there is absolutely no comparison to what he’s learned in the Catholic school classroom. We are fooling ourselves if we think CCD is a worthy substitute – and I say that as a former CCD teacher myself! Just consider that the best CCD classes out there may meet 36 times, for roughly 36 hours of instruction per year (That’s 4 times a month for 9 months). Compare that to 180 hours of direct religious instruction for the Catholic school kid, not counting all the other instruction received throughout the school day mentioned above. It’s no wonder that only 5% of kids who don’t go to Catholic school will attend Sunday Mass as adults. They have no idea of what they’re missing because they haven’t been sufficiently taught! 

My husband urges parents to substitute any other subject for religion, and ask if they’d be satisfied with the CCD model of instruction: “I agree that Algebra I is important, but I think one hour a week is sufficient, with a volunteer teacher who may or may not be trained in the subject. We’ll talk about it some at home too.” Of course that would be absurd, and to think it’s not also absurd for religious instruction means that we don’t yet fully grasp the depths and riches of our Catholic faith.

But what about when I homeschooled John Paul? It was a great joy to instruct him in the faith everyday – we used to sit on my bed and read and discuss chapters in his religion text, plus read lots of saint stories and do fun projects designed to help us live out the liturgical year. I loved every second – and he loved it too. But there comes a time, right around middle school, where my boys especially needed to hear from other role models, besides my husband or me. I could literally feel them tuning Mom out. But suddenly, their amazing religion teacher says the very same thing and it takes on a whole new life. I’ve focused primarily on grade school here, but this crossroads in faith instruction was magnified a hundred-fold once my kids reached Catholic high school. The Theology teachers and our campus ministers’ influence on my 3 older kids’ faith has been transformative; the retreats they sponsored, life-changing. When my oldest son delivered his valedictory address he thanked exactly three people: one was his physics teacher, a great Catholic man whose guidance set my son on his current career path, and the other two were our campus minister and priest chaplain. What a void would exist in his life if he hadn’t benefitted from their presence and guidance day in and day out, over four years, not just once a week for an hour or two at night for youth group.

Some of my dear friends opting for private or public schools have told me,“Well I went there and I turned out all right!” Seriously, y’all, that was in a different era. It is simply not the same. My Mom tells of her excellent public school education in the 1950s in Auburn, AL. But all her teachers and principals shared a basic belief in God and similar world-view. The virtues were taught and insisted upon. Today what is true is taught as bigotry; the curricula are antagonistic toward any type of faith - or even the very idea of objective truth. My pastor preached one Sunday that it’s like we’ve all fallen through Alice in Wonderland’s rabbit hole, and the world is upside down. (And for the record, my Mom and Dad sent us all to Catholic schools because they knew this to be true 30 years ago – and it’s even more true today!)

It is incredibly difficult to emerge from that nihilistic world-view unscathed, and if this were a more scholarly treatise, I would argue that any education resulting from that faulty understanding of man and creation is seriously, deeply flawed. Now more than ever we need our kids in Catholic schools -- not to shield them from the world but to arm them with the Truth.

Addendum on Costs: I know it’s expensive – we totally get it. We’re from generations of teachers and we’re teachers ourselves, so we completely understand the financial burdens. Our children do not attend Catholic schools for free, so we drive ancient cars, have never redone our lime green bathroom, and have never been on a cruise. Between us, my husband and I work four jobs to make it all happen – summers help. It’s all worth it. Sometimes I think folks may not try hard enough to get their kids there. They see the tuition posted on the website and rule it out. Have we seriously examined our budgets? Have we asked for scholarship help? Have we tried to volunteer our services to defray costs? I think of an old dear friend who was determined to give her eight children a Catholic education … she humbly asked, and asked again, and prayed, and pleaded – and ended up going to her bishop, who found a way to make it work. Don’t just call or email; go ask in person. To struggling families, I say please exhaust every option before saying it’s impossible.

The King's Troubadour

If we’re fortunate, we can look back on our lives and name three or four people who, outside of our families, have profoundly affected us for the better. Gerald Vrazel was one of those people for me when I was younger. 

It was with real sadness that I learned of his death earlier this week.

I was only 15 or 16 when I met Gerald in the late 1970’s.  He was about ten years older, in his twenties, and played the guitar for prayer meetings in the St. Mary’s gym.  Because of my family’s involvement in the charismatic renewal, I had been to hundreds of prayer meetings before then, and often played the guitar, banging my way through songs and blissfully skipping chords that were too difficult or required transitions which were too quick. It didn’t seem to matter much, as everyone sang, loudly and joyfully. 

But Gerald was different—he was a truly excellent guitarist.  He hit chords (all of them!) with ease, transitioned seamlessly between strumming and picking, whatever was required by the song, added walk-downs, frills, base —all the white playing on an exceptional guitar, his Gibson Hummingbird. I was mesmerized!  Over the next few meetings, I didn’t do too much praying; rather, I watched how Gerald played a song, then went home afterwards and tried to mimic what he did. 

At some point he must have noticed my interest, because he invited me to play with him, and I was thrilled. Thrilled—as a 16 year old boy, mind you!— to be attending prayer meetings every week, because I got to play with Gerald. He, for his part, was patient and kind with me: when I missed something, he never called me out, never made me to feel inferior. Truth be told, I never doubted as a teenager whether a devout Christian man could also be “cool,” because I knew Gerald. Such was his impact on me. 

As I got to know him better, I learned that Gerald and his best friend, Allen Reimer, had started a small musical group called “Canticle,” which practiced once a week at Allen’s house on Houston Avenue. They had converted a garage behind the house into a sound studio and invested significant monies purchasing instruments and sound equipment. Back in those days, in addition to playing every Sunday at St. Mary’s ( something he did for 45 straight years, all the way up to the day before he died--just extraordinary!), the group cut two albums of original songs and toured locally,  giving concerts at churches, picnics, bazaars, and other venues. 

I wasn’t good enough to play with them early on, but Gerald invited me to practices, and I was able to help out as a  “roadie,” loading equipment and setting up. As I slowly improved, I began filling in from time to time on piano during practices, and eventually, began to play with them publicly. I was even able to record a few tracks with them on the second album, "Jesus Train." Sometimes I still tinker around on the piano with a few of the Canticle “classics,” including “Jesus Train,” “Jesus is Coming Again,” “Sing Praise to You Lord,” “Be Calm Be Still,” “Visions of You,” "We All Are One," and “Remember Me.” 

Though many people came and went through Canticle even during my short stint with them, the folks I remember were Gerald and Allen (guitarists and lead vocalists), Shelley, Gerald’s wife, Keith, (drummer), Brad (bass), Margie (piano), Carole (flute), Jane, Mary Beth, Cathy (singers) and a few others.  These were good people, and the friendships I developed with them in my last two years of high school, together with cameo appearances during my summers home from college, were a great gift to me growing up. 

Gerald, though, was special. He was the consistent, dominant personality, the glue that kept everyone focused on the purpose of Canticle—to give glory to God, and to call others to the Lord. I watched him carefully as I grew up. I noticed how he handled frustration without ever cursing (“FOOT!” was the worst he’d say), how he dealt charitably with a few priests who weren’t terribly excited about the Canticle “sound” at masses (with drums, tambourines  and electric guitars), how he patiently handled hurt feelings within the group, or how cheerfully he did the mundane stuff, like loading up sound equipment and unloading, week after week, year after year, over and over again. 

If heaven is a place of song, and I believe that it is, I’m pretty sure Gerald is already among the choirs of angels, guitar in hand, free of all pain, joyfully singing and praising God.  

Rest in peace, good friend. Thank you for your witness to me. 

A Toast to Mom on her Retirement

Note: My mother, Katharine Sprague Weber, retired from the tribunal of the Archdiocese of Mobile on June 6, 2019 after twenty years of service.  This is the text of a toast I made her on that occasion. 

On behalf of my mother and family, thank you for celebrating Mom’s retirement with us. 

I want to take the liberty to toast my mother on this occasion, but also tell you a little bit about her, some of which she would be too modest to tell you herself. I, on the other hand, have no problem sharing all this with you because I am her proud son!

Mom is the daughter of Marie and Albert Sprague, who were both interesting people in their own right. 

Prior to her marriage to my grandfather, Marie’s professional career was quite progressive for her day. Living in Washington, D.C.  in the 1920's, she earned a law degree, and later, for a hobby, a private pilot’s license. Because she had an exceptional memory for names, dates and places, she became the personal secretary for Frances Perkins, who was the first female Cabinet member in the history of the U.S.—Secretary of Labor to inarguably the most socially progressive president of the 20th century, FDR, which meant, for Perkins, she was the point person for most of the New Deal initiatives. Grandma knew, because of her close connection to Perkins, most of the power players in Washington at the time, and frequently had occasion to meet Eleanor Roosevelt, who was a close friend of Perkins. 

Grandma lived this life for quite some time, but gave it all up when she married my grandfather at the age of 38. Albert T. Sprague was a Navy man, a graduate of Annapolis, and came from a long line of ship captains and navy men, dating back 5 generations. Previous to his marriage to Marie, he'd married another woman and had three children with her, but she died of a long illness, and he married Marie a few years later. Shortly after their marriage, they conceived my mother. Mom was born in August, 1941, just four months before Pearl Harbor. She didn't see much of her father in her first four years! 

My grandfather distinguished himself during WWII, as captain of a Navy cruiser. Being captain of a warship during war time, with 700 men under your command, is the closest thing our country has to a monarch, and he fought in several of the brutal Naval battles in the Pacific and the Philippine Islands. He even became fleet commander of a successful invasion of Cebu and its capital Cebu City, the 2nd largest city in the Philippines. My grandfather, as they say, is "in the history books."

But those early years were tough for my grandmother, mother and their family. As my grandfather fought at sea, the family moved to naval bases on the east and west coast, and my grandmother was thrust into raising 3 teenage step children and an infant on her own.  We celebrate D-Day today and we give rightful honor to our war heroes. But we’re well to also remember the heroic sacrifices of their spouses, like my grandmother, who gave up her career to totally dedicate herself to raising these children to support her husband at war--no small thing! 

Finally, the war was over, and my grandfather returned home. He served out the remainder of his military career in command post positions on the east coast, before retiring with the rank of Admiral. It is then that they moved south—he was offered a teaching position at Auburn University in the Engineering department. Mom was now 8, having grown up on the east and west coast, but now entering the south for the first time, and she tells a funny story about her first day of school as a third grader: 

Auburn public schools in the 1950’s were an interesting mix of professor's children--middle class, well educated—and Lee County kids,  who worked on the farms, were bussed to school, and usually came to school barefoot. On that first day, Mom remembers she had a large, fearsome teacher, who asked one of the Lee County boys a question, which he answered correctly. But the teacher became angry, told the boy to come to the front of the room, and gave him a good spanking with the proverbial “Board of Education.” My mother has always been very conscientious about following the rules, so she was TERRIFIED:  she had ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA what the boy had done wrong!  At recess, she anxiously asked one of the university children  “What did he do? He gave the right answer.” The girl sniffed, “He didn’t say M’am!” Thus was Mom’s introduction to the deep south.

Mom went on to distinguish herself in school. Again, she’d be embarrassed I am telling you this, but she graduated as a National Merit Scholar (a rare achievement even today, but even rarer for women in her day) and as an all-state flutist.  She was one of only two people in her entire class to “go away” to college, and she decided to go to Spring Hill College to major in Chemistry ( her father insisted since she didn’t know what she wanted to do, it would be easier to change out of science to a liberal arts major than vice versa). That’s right—Chemistry! She now also has a graduate degree in Theology and a second degree in Canon Law, if that gives you some indication of her intellect. In fact, she’s one of only 2 people I’ve ever met that LIKED Organic Chemistry in college—the other being her granddaughter Claire, Kathy’s child. Her comment about Organic?  “You get to play with  3D models and turn them around like puzzles in your mind.”  

When Mom enrolled as a freshman at SHC, she immersed herself in music and chemistry, but soon met an a Physics major and Army ROTC, a senior from Memphis, TN:  Neff Weber, my future father.  They fell in love. As graduation neared for my father,  and so too his commissioning as 2nd LT in the army, he asked permission to marry my mom that same summer, but Grandpa said no—Mom was “too young,” just 19 at the time, and “she had to be at least twenty before marriage.”  So Dad left for graduate school to pursue a Ph.D. in Physics at the University of Virginia in Charlottesville, and Mom continued a sophomore at Spring Hill—but they continued their relationship via correspondence. And—follow this timetable—my mother turned 20 on August 1, 1961, they were married on August 26, 1961 in Auburn, AL.  Nine months later, in June, 1962, they had their first child, me. 

It wasn’t an easy couple of years—they lived in a small trailer, with their only income being my father’s ROTC check for $167/month. Mom took a few classes at UVA to try and continue her Chemistry major, but soon became pregnant with my sister, Kathy, and it became impossible. When Dad finished with his Ph.D. at Virginia, they  moved to Aberdeen Proving Grounds, an army base just outside of Baltimore MD, so Dad could finish out his military commitment, eventually achieving the rank of "captain."  Fortunately, he was not sent to the Vietnam war, raging at the time; he was too valuable to the army with a doctorate in Physics, designing weapons systems. 

It was actually coincidence that they ended up back in Mobile. I was just 5, but the University of South Alabama was just getting established. As part of that, they were beginning  a Physics program, and my father applied for that position, in 1967. My parents have lived here ever since. 

(I ask Mom recently if being a resident of Mobile for 52 years qualifies her as a “Mobilian” in social circles around town. She laughed and said “almost, but no.” )

But it has been a wonderful life here. Mom and Dad went on to have 5 children—myself (a high school principal, and father of 4), Kathy (a lawyer and mother of 2 in Birmingham, who is with us with her daughter Ellie), Jennifer (director of a woman’s pro-life clinic in northern Indiana, mother of four, who is with us this morning, having flown in from northern Indiana for this occasion), Caroline (a middle school teacher here at St. Ignatius, mother of 5, with the three oldest here today), and my brother John Mark (an engineer from Huntsville, father of 3).  They sent us all to Catholic schools, all the way through McGill (in fact, as I talk with you, I am standing here in my kindergarten classroom at St. Ignatius from 1967).

A very significant thing happened to my parents in the early 1970’s that changed our family’s life and has defined it ever since. Friends of theirs in Maryland—my dad did contract work with the government in the summers to make ends meet, so we returned to Maryland twice I think for the summer)— invited them to a Catholic Charismatic prayer meeting, and they found it compelling and began going back, and were soon “baptized in the Holy Spirit” as the charismatic community called it. In layman’s terms, they experienced an intense re-awakening and renewal of their faith, a kind of burning zeal to serve the Lord in a more direct and powerful way. So they came back to Mobile, connected with a fledgling charismatic community developing here, and within 3 or 4 years, became one of the active leaders of the movement in Mobile. 

In 1974, they decided to take this new desire to serve the Lord and grow in holiness even further by joining with two other families to form a “covenant Christian community” together. As I was finishing 6th grade at St. Ignatius, they called a family meeting to tell me and my sisters we were moving to downtown Mobile to join up with these families, changing parishes to Most Pure Heart of Mary School, changing us from St. Ignatius to Heart of Mary—which until that moment had been a 100% African American Catholic school—and pledge their lives and fortunes to one another to grow in holiness.  

Everything changed for us. But because Mom and Dad loved each other so constantly, it was all change for the good. From that point forward, it was very common for us to have a recovering alcoholic at the head seat of our dinner table for Thanksgiving or Christmas meals, or a recovering drug addict living with us for months at a time out of our garage, which dad converted to another bedroom, or an unwed mother, helping her bring her child to term. My parents took seriously the gospel—“what you do to the least of these, you do to me”. We grew up in prayer meetings in people’s homes, including a regular Friday night prayer meeting. They led the meetings. They taught. They conducted Life in the Spirit seminars, trying to help others intensify their relationship with the Lord. People in need visited us constantly. I think Mom’s only real worry through all that was that some how this was undercutting her time with us—but I can say, and in fact I’ve talked to my brother and sisters about this—we never felt that way. We were included in it. It was just the way our family was. And I think all of us were blessed from it. 

They had a great marriage. My dad was a great guy, and Mom is a great woman, and they loved each other deeply. Dad had a great sense of humor, Mom has a great laugh, and much of my memory of Mom with Dad is both of them laughing together and smiling. 

Mom dedicated herself completely to us and to the community when we were younger,  but as we aged and began attending school, Mom went back and finished out that Chemistry degree at South AL, then later went back and got an M.A. in Theology from Spring Hill. 

After that, she started looking for a place to serve the Church in a professional manner, and tried several things which weren’t quite the right fit. She taught theology at McGill, but it wasn't a good fit.  She was the assistant to the Youth Minister for the Archdiocese here for a year. She served as an assistant to Campus Ministry at SHC for a year. None of those things were quite right, until someone suggested she get a canon law degree to help with the marriage tribunal. 

It was a beautiful combination right from the beginning for her: First, Mom has always loved learning, truly, so she got to do more of that. Second, as mother of 5 and now grandmother of 17, she brought very practical wisdom to the annulment process. Third, it was a way for her to serve the Church that she loved. So she earned that degree by going to Catholic University in Washington for five consecutive summers, starting at age 58. I admire both my father, for blessing that commitment (it was hard for him), and my mother, for having the courage and drive to do it later in her life. She's served in the Tribunal ever since.  Though dealing with the tragedy of broken marriages is tough, Mom always understood her work as a "ministry," and I know she was an instrument of a lot of healing for countless couples. 

So it is fitting that we honor her at her retirement. I want to toast my mother—a great daughter, a wonderful wife, a fantastic mother and grandmother, a woman of steadfast faith, a person of profound learning and wisdom, whose life has exemplified how St. Anselm describes a “theologian" -- one whose life is about "faith seeking understanding.”

To my mother!