Mundelein IV

Nolite Timere – Do not be afraid.

Duc In Altum – Put out into the deep.

Saint John Paul II Chapel

These words (in Latin above), adorn the altar of the Chapel to Saint John Paul II at Mundelein Seminary.* Both sentiments are placed appropriately, and profoundly. The Saint urges us to conquer timidity, and cast our nets into the sea of all mankind: to be fearless fishers of men. As meaningful to the Scouts I was with, as it was to the seminarians who work and live there.

I was returning to Mundelein for our Scout Troop’s annual “Fishers of Men” outing*, and our first stop at this Chapel was a fitting start on this rainy Saturday morning in mid-September.

Courtyard Statue

The quiet solemnity of this holy place was to set the tone for a day of reflection and prayer. At least it was for me, if not for the majority of young men I and my fellow Scout leaders were there to chaperone (i.e. keep from getting into trouble). I like to think we were mostly successful chaperones, returning with the same number of Scouts we left with at least.

Those two quotes of John Paul II remained with me that day, as I listened to the words of the priests and seminarians, who came to guide us through their residences, lives and vocations. I came to a better understanding of the ways Mundelein Seminary prepares her sons for the challenges of priesthood.

The Belvedere

Whether from the story of a seminarian from overseas who heard the call at a very young age, or that of a lawyer like myself who left my profession to begin along the path to diocesan priesthood, each of their journeys left its impression on me. How strong their Faith!

As I experience the changes age brings, I learn that those things I once deemed important begin to fade with the years: the wealth I sought in my younger days, the importance of winning every argument, and my own stubborn insistence on being right.

I marvel that the young seminarians realize these are hollow goals, at little more than half my age. They willingly forego wealth and materialism, wives and careers, to follow the way of the Cross. I respect their choice and am humbled by it; but more, at times I am given the Grace to see through their eyes the wealth and reward their choice brings.

No path in this world is easy or without pain. How we deal with the world and its troubles is what makes us human, and suffering is part of the path to the divine, as hard as that is to believe sometimes! I suppose we must rely on Faith to persevere, in good times and bad.

Mundelein is a well-spring of that Faith. In the quiet of the Main Chapel, I could almost feel the presence of those countless seminarians who passed through this sanctuary. How many prayers and devotions does this place bear witness to?

Main Chapel

Solemn pictures of graduating classes, going back to the 1920’s, are a glimpse of the history of this edifice to Faith. The few graves silent witness to lives of service and devotion. Even the red brick of the buildings themselves seem to patiently preside over the onset of seasons, and years.

Statue at Cemetery

Yet of all I experienced in Mundelein, I return to the enthusiasm and cheer of those I met, their sense of mission and devotion, their understanding of obligation and trust in the Lord. Above all, this is what truly inspires me during my annual visits.

Immaculate Conception

The rain eventually moved off, and we enjoyed blue skies and white clouds for the remainder of our day. I suppose the Faith I experienced restored mine to some degree, and made my world a little brighter as well.

Not many trips can do that.

Peter Murphy September 2016

* the Seminary’s web page is: http://mundeleinseminary.org

* the Chicago Archdiocese Catholic Committee on Scouting web page is:

http://home.catholicweb.com/accs/

Cocoa Beach – The Space Coast

COCOA BEACH – THE SPACE COAST*

It was a warm, cloudy morning when my family and I lifted off out of Midway onboard our 737, bound for Orlando International at the beginning of the Labor Day weekend. We had reservations for Disney World later the following week, but our first stop would be Cocoa Beach.

After a half-hour wait at the rental car counter, we loaded up the luggage and were soon driving out of Orlando along the 528. It’s a straight road most of the way to Cocoa, until it turns into part of the A1-A and heads out over the water on a pair of long causeways, just before you reach Port Canaveral. There, the big cruise ships are almost always in port, loading up passengers for 3 and 4 day excursions into the Caribbean.

We followed A1-A south, and about an hour after leaving Orlando found our hotel. As usual, we stayed at the Four Points Sheraton, just a couple of blocks from the beach in downtown Cocoa.

The Atlantic rollers on the Beach that afternoon were higher than I remembered from previous trips, but that made swimming and body surfing much more exciting. Quite a few locals said it would be crowded this weekend, and I suppose it was; but, compared to an August weekend at Oak Street Beach in Chicago, it wasn’t that bad.

The shoreline at Cocoa Beach is impressive. I felt I could walk for miles along the sand and not come to the end of it, and so visitors could really spread out. The kids were soon lost to the waves and seashells, with my Wife tagging along behind to keep them from getting lost.

You could quickly pick out tourists like myself, painfully pale and liberally dosed with sun screen. I envied those lucky residents who could hop in their cars, park for a few quarters in the meter, and head down to the sea whenever they felt like it.

After an afternoon in the sun and sand, we headed back to the Sheraton for some dinner and shopping. The Cocoa Beach Surf Company makes up about half of the Hotel, and includes the Shark Pit Bar & Grill and a surf board rental shop.

I rented a body board the next morning, and we were back at the beach around 9 a.m., to soak up more rays and do some serious body boarding. I’m the first to admit that I have no talent or skill in this area, but the couple of times I was able to ride a decent wave all the way into the shallows made all of my efforts worthwhile. There’s a joy in it, that makes all those times getting knocked down seem less important.

We headed back to the Hotel when they closed the beach for half an hour around noon, due to a shark sighting, or so the lifeguard told me. We grabbed lunch, and still had a long afternoon of fun in the sun before finally calling it a day.

Later that afternoon, after a short walk from the Hotel along a boardwalk near the beach, we stopped into Captain J’s, a bar and grill with upper deck seating overlooking the ocean.

Good food and service, the main attraction is watching the Disney, Carnival, and Royal Caribbean cruise ships as they head out to sea. That Sunday night, the ships appeared in line heading southeast, and we watched as they sailed out of sight into the vast Atlantic.

I walked the beach alone that evening for the last time: listening to the sound of the surf as they sky darkened, looking at the lights out to sea and those of the resorts on land, and enjoying my solitude among the last few beach combers.

The Moon was quarter full when it appeared that evening, and almost directly overhead. I could almost feel the presence of those astronauts who left from nearby Cape Canaveral on their Moon missions. Did Collins, Aldrin, or even Armstrong walk these sands, looking up at this same Moon mere days before they walked on it for the first time? I could well imagine them here.

Toward the end of the evening, I spotted a couple of old men in front of a lopsided tent, enjoying a few beers as the sun set. As they talked, joked, and reminisced, I wondered if they might have the right of it, just sitting there on the beach in Florida without an apparent care in the world.

Maybe this lifestyle would grow routine, but I saw a lot of enthusiasm on the faces of the surf boarders, skim boarders, and body boarders – old and young alike. I wondered what it would be like to live out the lyrics of those old Beach Boys songs, if even for a little while.

I would be driving to Orlando and Disney World the next day, and I knew, in the back of my mind, that my law practice in cold Chicago was waiting for me when I got back home. But part of me waits on that beach, walking the sand, watching the sun set and listening to the waves. And maybe having that cold beer.

* this article appeared as “Cocoa Beach Reflections” in the November 2014 issue of The Beachside Resident, page 17. The Beachside Resident web page can be found @:

http://www.thebeachsideresident.com

Pete Murphy January 2015

Mundelein Revisited

Mundelein Revisited

Santo Subito!

This phrase was heard constantly throughout the streets of Rome during Pope Saint John Paul II’s funeral in 2005. It means “sainthood now,” and those words echoed in my mind as I approached the Chapel of Mary at Mundelein’s St. Mary of the Lake Seminary for the second time in my life. There, at the entrance to the Chapel, hang the large icons of two of our recently Sainted Popes: Pope Saint John Paul II and Pope Saint John XXIII.

St. Mary Chapel

It was comforting to see these images of the two larger than life Saints, continuing to inspire visitors and seminarians alike, in wisdom, patience and courage. How quickly that Italian phrase was realized!

Nearby, inside the Seminary’s Library, an ornate chair is displayed, with a modest plaque indicating it was used by Pope John Paul II during his visit to Chicago. I remembered his visit as I touched the chair, reflecting on how close I was standing to a physical artifact used by a living Saint. I was humbled.

Seminary Library

We were visiting Mundelein again as a Scout Unit, during the annual “Fishers of Men” event, hosted by Mundelein Seminary and organized by the Chicago Archdiocese Catholic Committee on Scouting.* It was a warm and sunny day, as the boys lined up with rods and reels, to listen to the priests and seminarians talk about vocation, discernment, and the joys of religious life.

Lake View

I’m always impressed by these selfless young men, meeting the daily challenges of study while reflecting on their own callings. Most of us look forward to a job after college or graduate school, and maybe even think in terms of a career. But these seminarians think in terms of service and vocation, of a life-style and commitment, which will encompass much more than just a 9 to 5 work schedule.

A Reflective Moment

Family is also a much broader term for these men. I’ve found priests and religious have extended families compared to most of us. They find family beyond their parents and siblings, extending their families to include fellow seminarians and teachers (even decades after ordination or vows), close personal friends, and the parishes or communities they eventually serve. We are all fortunate to call our parish priests Father.

And that is perhaps the biggest difference between my education as an attorney and theirs in religious life: they graduate to serve others, not themselves. Which is not to say the laity doesn’t serve. We do. But our careers are rarely service. We work to provide for our own wives and children, and for ourselves in later years. We serve our parishes and communities in our spare time.

I try to explain this to our scouts, through scouting’s religious awards programs, special scout masses, and these retreats. Religious life is a choice that all young people should consider, and discern in the silence of their hearts.

Saint Therese Statue

I remain hopeful that our society is less materialistic, at least for this coming generation. We need to defeat secularism, but I hear less from my scouts about having a fast car, large house, or massive wealth, than I did from my peers during my own younger years. Time with family and friends is becoming, appropriately, more important to our youth, even if it takes the form of texting, tweeting, and skyping.

The chase for riches is an empty one. This was the lesson my generation had to learn. I hope our younger generations learn lessons about the society they are confronted with, whether those involve peer popularity, instant gratification, global competition, or simple information overload. I hope they find answers to these challenges in our Faith.

Library Walkway

In the end, most attorneys (and other professionals) I know cherish their volunteer time. Giving of ourselves feeds the soul, as we lay up treasure in heaven.

How great would it be, if fulfilling those endeavors was your full time job?

* the Chicago Archdiocese Catholic Committee on Scouting we page is:

https://sites.google.com/site/chiaccs/

– Pete Murphy November, 2014

Yesterday’s EPCOT

My latest Walt Disney World article, Yesterday’s EPCOT, is posted on the Allears Disney fan site:

http://allears.net/ae/issue781.htm

In this piece, I remember a road trip I took to EPCOT with my Brother in the late 1980’s.

Recall with me part of that magical place and time, from the challenges of keeping an old car on the road, to experiencing one of the first video conferencing systems.

I hope you enjoy this look back at EPCOT as much as I enjoyed reliving it!

Pete Murphy

Comforting Thoughts

COMFORTING THOUGHTS

I was waiting for a Metra train to downtown Chicago yesterday, just looking at the billboard advertisements along the track, when I savored a comforting thought:

Somewhere in a Las Vegas casino right now, there is probably a young man betting my favorite numbers on roulette. Suddently, one if his numbers hits, paying out 35 to one. I imagine he bet heavily, as I always did on my favorite numbers.

Oddly, this wasn’t the first time I’ve imagined such things, when under some level of stress. I used to think that, regardless of what I had to deal with, I could take comfort knowing at that very moment a family was enjoying Disney World for the first time, maybe riding Small World or Spaceship Earth, or climbing aboard their first Monorail. It didn’t matter, as long as someone, somewhere, was experiencing happier times than I was.

I’ve come to believe that the act of remembering is deeper, more immersive than we usually appreciate. I once read that our minds are far more complex than we realize, and that our meanderings, our recollections, are true relivings of our past experiences. Who can think of a primal fear, like falling from a dizzying height, watching a crawling spider, or seeing a plane crash on the news (to name 3 of my fears), and not, at least emotionally, touch a part of their subconscious that recoils in terror from such images?

I reason that if these fears, when genuinely experienced in my memory, can elicit those negative emotions, than why not instead try to elicit pleasant experiences in idle moments? Indeed, I have found that such total recall, to coin a phrase, is akin to the genuine experience.

And so, in this humble context, I offer this thought: when confronted with the worst of life, remember the best of life. If fearful, or stessed, or discomforted, remember times of joy!

Combat everyday annoyances with images of some perfect moment in time. Whether it be a cherished vacation, a gathering with family or friends, or a past triumph, a happy thought can at least compete with a momentary displeasure.

I suppose, for me, it’s the idea of someone enjoying, at this very moment, some happy time in my past. It’s usually a travel experience: a jet lifting off for parts unknown, a cruise ship leaving dock and setting sail, watching pounding ocean waves on a sandy beach, or even that lucky spin of the roulette wheel.

So I seek these varied experiences in my own life: the times when I shake things up, push past the routine, and dive into unknown waters. Good or bad, they are at least different.

And when I find in my wanderings that I’ve hit upon that special moment, that joyful happening to touch my soul (whether I realize it at the time or not), I have discovered treasure. I store it, embellish it, and protect it from the world.

If possible, I retain some physical keepsake of that experience. My shelves and closets are crowded with momentos of these special times, always new regardless of how long I’ve had them.

Too often, I will need those life-affirming moments again. And you know, they never wear thin. They are always present, in the back of my mind, to offer comfort.

Those memories are the reason I love to travel, and hopefully always will.

– Pete Murphy

September, 2014