Visit Stumptown!

A couple of Portland friends just posted this video to their Facebook pages and I just had to share it here. It is AWESOME, and makes me homesick for the Rose City!! I'm proud to say that I've been to most of the sites and events featured in this video. Obviously you can't cover everything in such a short spot, but as far as I'm concerned, the only things that are missing in this video are the smiling faces of all my friends in the great Northwest! Enjoy!!

Homily for the Twenty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

Over the past several days, I’ve been on campus at CUA, getting my ID card and parking pass, buying my books, and going through all the usual orientation programs for new graduate students.

It feels like it’s been decades since I last went through all of these rites of passage as a freshman at Notre Dame. So much has changed since then. I’m now in my early thirties, I already have a graduate degree in theology, and I’ve found my vocation as a religious and priest of the Congregation of Holy Cross. I like to think, at least, that I’m smarter, more mature and settled, maybe even a little bit holier than I was back then – even if I weigh quite a bit more as well!

And yet I’ve also been amazed at what hasn’t changed even after all these years: the nervousness of being in a new environment and meeting new peers; the worry about whether or not I’ll be smart enough to make the grade; the concern about what people will think of me and whether or not I’ll be liked and fit in. Thank God for the clerical collar – at least I didn’t have to worry about whether or not my clothes were in fashion!

I bet that you can relate to having those kinds of insecurities and concerns – whether it be on the first day of school, trying out for the team, pledging a fraternity, or starting a new job. So much of our time is wasted worrying about what others will think about us, and trying to convince others about our status, importance, intelligence, charm, or good looks.

Ultimately this preoccupation with what others think of us comes from a lack of humility. Now, it would seem that arrogance is the opposite of humility – “Look at me; I’m the big man on campus” – and it certainly is. But these kinds of insecurities are also rooted in a lack of humility, if that virtue is understood properly . . . they also say that “my worth comes from your estimation of me,” or from the power, the good looks, the money or possessions I think I need to impress you.

It is, unfortunately, all too easy for us to fall into this trap – to base our worth on things, including the opinions of others, and for us to think either too much or too little of ourselves.

I think we all know that this way of thinking and acting is a recipe for disaster; for chronic failure and unhappiness. Are we really supposed to put ourselves, and our self worth, in a popularity contest, with ever-changing fads and fashions, likes and expectations?

Does “the crowd” often praise the right person for the right reason? Are people who are intelligent, moral, honorable or generous idolized, or are pop stars, actors and athletes?

If we put our happiness in the hands of other people, or worse, in the hands of the anonymous crowd who so often celebrate the very worst characters, that is exactly what we will become.

All of this is precisely what Jesus notices and comments upon at the meal in today’s Gospel. St. Luke says that, “the people there were observing Him carefully.” They were watching to see where He sat, and who He sat with, and who He talked to – all the things we watch for at cocktail parties, business meetings, and grad school orientation meetings.

Jesus encounters our constant preoccupation with and appetite for honor and esteem, and He denounces it as one of the major things that disrupts God’s intended banquet of joy. He tries to break up the games people are playing – trying to be seen, trying to be the most important – and essentially says, “put a stop to this” – be humble; take the lowest place; try not to stand out and be important; stop posing and attention-grabbing; don’t do or say things because of what you think you might get out of it.

Jesus tries to break us of our addiction to esteem – an addiction that can be as strong as any addiction to alcohol or drugs – and He thereby introduces humility as a key virtue in making us fit for entrance into the holy banquet of heaven.

The key to true humility – which neither thinks too much or too little of oneself, but sees our true worth honestly – they key to this is to see ourselves, and others, as God sees us. That is the truest definition of humility and the path to the self-worth and the joy for which we long.

This week we’ve had the chance to celebrate a woman who is a particularly powerful example of this kind of life of humility. On Thursday, we observed the one hundredth anniversary of the birth of Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta – and a week from today, at the National Shrine, there will be a special Mass, and a U.S. Postal Stamp will be issued to honor the start of her centenary.

Mother Teresa’s life, and now her writings which have been made public, show us how we too can have humility by seeing ourselves as God sees us.

Despite the international attention she attracted, the admiration of millions she earned, the Nobel Peace Prize she was awarded, she wrote that she was “perfectly happy to be nobody, even to God” (pg. 170). Now, this is not some kind of self-loathing, or thinking too little of oneself. She goes on to say:

“I wonder at God’s great humility and my smallness . . . I believe this is where Jesus and I meet (pg. 267) . . . Our nothingness, and the fullness of God: and yet the humility of God has made them one in Jesus!” (pg. 270).

Friends, here is our greatest identity! Here is the source of our true self-worth, here is the joy for which we have been searching!: The humility of God makes our smallness, and God’s fullness meet – and they meet in Jesus Christ! This is what our second reading points towards as well, when the Letter to the Hebrews says, “you have approached Jesus the mediator of a new covenant.”

Mother Teresa based the entirety of her life on this truth – and out of it, she found the strength to love even the abandoned and despised. There would have been no room in Mother Teresa’s heart for God’s greatness, or for love of His poor, if she thought too much of herself, or sought her greatness in public adulation, power, or wealth. And neither would she have been open to God’s love if she thought too little of herself, and thought herself to be beyond redemption, useless in God’s plan.

In other words, she was truly humble – she saw herself as God saw her. But again, how – how did she come to have this great virtue of humility? How did she come to know that her true identity and worth was found where her smallness and God’s greatness meet in Jesus Christ?

She knew it from going to Christ each day, and spending an hour in prayer with Him in the Blessed Sacrament. It is that simple. She once said, "Do you think if I didn’t pray I would be able to love the poor? It is Jesus that puts love in my heart when I pray. . . . Nowhere on earth are you more welcomed, nowhere on earth are you more loved, than by Jesus, living and truly present in the Most Blessed Sacrament."

Brothers and sisters, it’s when we come often, daily even, to pray with our Eucharistic Lord that we find Him in whom our smallness and God’s greatness meet. It is there, in Him, that we find our true worth, where we come to know God’s love for us, and thus grow in true humility. It is there, in the Bread of Life, that we come to love others, and are prepared to find ourselves by losing ourselves in loving service.

May Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta intercede for us, that we may have the virtue of humility and be made worthy of the banquet of heaven that we now celebrate.

My New Parish

I promised to provide another post on my new parish of residence, and I know that there is a particular group of readers interested in the architecture of the parish church. So without further ado, I am happy to present a brief tour of the Church of the Little Flower in Bethesda, Maryland.

You may remember from previous posts that the exterior of the church looks like this:

Just inside the main doors, and to the left, is found the sunken Baptistry:

The nave is in a slight fan-shape. The sanctuary is behind a truncated altar rail, with a reredos of stone and glass. Above, the crucifix is surrounded with mosaic in the pattern of rays of light. Altars to the Blessed Virgin and Saint Joseph are found on either side.

The church was constructed in 1967, just after the Second Vatican Council, so I imagine there was never a true high altar - but the altar of Reservation is clearly the focal point of the church. 

There are six very large stained-glass windows, in a slightly modern and yet perfectly readable style. Two are devoted to the Blessed Mother, in her Immaculate Conception and her Glorious Assumption. Two others depict our Lord's Ascension and His Nativity: 

The final two windows, above the choir loft, depict the parish' patroness, Saint Therese of Lisieux, the Little Flower.  The windows show the story of her life in small scenes. Here she is shown sweeping in the cloister, because through her "little way" she was devoted to doing even small daily tasks with great love.

And here she is depicted on her deathbed, experiencing a vision of the Blessed Mother.

It's a very nice church, that reminds me a great deal of the best parts of the Moreau Seminary chapel, which was constructed just a decade before and uses many of the same materials.

My room has come along nicely and I'll put together a brief post with some photos of that very soon.

A Fond Farewell

Before I departed Notre Dame for Bethesda, I had an enjoyable week of goodbyes with friends and confreres . . . at least as enjoyable as goodbyes can be!

I was especially glad to have one last Mass at Holy Cross College and to have the chance to say farewell to Andrew and Dre Polaniecki. I was also honored to preside at the Basilica of the Sacred Heart for the Feast of the Assumption.

Of the many things I'll miss from my year at Notre Dame I will most miss the chance to live and work in the same place as my three wonderful classmates! Who knows when or if this will ever be the case again. Throughout the year we made a point of getting together regularly for a class dinner. I was glad to have one last chance for a meal together, and then for a leisurely stroll around the campus. Thanks guys!

I will also miss terribly the wonderful seminarians I was privileged to work with this past year. I was glad that before I left South Bend I had the chance to see them as they returned to campus for their orientation retreat. I joined the finally professed community of South Bend at a special dinner at our La Porte Center where the seminarians were finishing their retreat and readying themselves for the year ahead. What a wonderfully hopeful sight to see so many men in our formation programs! Please join me in praying for the success of their studies and discernment.

We enjoyed a social and dinner together, and later in the evening were treated to fireworks and a bonfire.

Though I am definitely not known as much of a fashion-plate, I got loads of comments about my University of Portland Hawaiian shirt . . . and most of them were positive ;) The shirt was a gift from my friends in the UP Alumni Office and whatever the reactions I was proud to represent the Pilots!

The next morning I was on the road by 7 a.m. and made it to Bethesda by dinner time. The rest of the week has been spent unpacking and settling in. In my next post I'll have some pictures and details about my new abode hear in the Beltway!

Homily for the Twenty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

I have to confess that I have been a little bit surprised, since entering the seminary and especially since ordination, how many questions I’m asked that focus on salvation and who can be saved. I expected the questions I get about priests not being able to marry, or about the pressing moral issues of our day – but I’ve been kind of edified by how many people hone in on the essential element of our faith and ask about salvation.

Youngsters in grade schools want to know if their beloved pets will be in heaven; or more seriously, if their friends who aren’t Catholic can go to heaven. Parents and grandparents want the assurance that their children and grandchildren who have left the Church, or don’t practice the faith, can still be admitted to heaven. People at funerals are desperate for the consolation that their loved one, even if they lived a less than perfect life, might still be in heaven.

I think the stranger in today’s Gospel therefore speaks for all of us when he asks: “Lord, will only a few people be saved?” Perhaps he has heard it said that only a few will be saved. Perhaps he too is worried about a loved one, or is concerned that he might not make it into heaven himself.

It’s really an all-important question the stranger asks Jesus. And yet he had to be disappointed with what Jesus said in reply: “Strive to enter through the narrow gate.”

If he wanted a percentage or a number, or any kind of direct answer, the stranger doesn’t get it. Instead of focusing our attention on who or how many people will be saved, Jesus wants us to focus on the tremendous effort that is required for salvation.

To illustrate just how difficult it is to be saved, Jesus uses the allegory of a narrow gate. It’s crucial to note that Jesus’ allegory does not suggest that the gate of salvation is open to only a few. No, in our first reading Isaiah recounts the Lord as saying: “I come to gather nations of every language.”

And indeed Jesus Himself references this prophecy when He says that, “people will come from the east and the west and from the north and the south and will recline at table in the kingdom of God.” The invitation to salvation is indeed very broad; it is offered to all people.

However, Jesus’ allegory makes it clear that not everyone will accept this invitation. Some do not make the necessary effort to get into the banquet hall. They don’t respond to the invitation in a timely fashion and come too late to be admitted, after the master has already closed and locked the door.

Others presume that they will be admitted based on a casual association with the master – they ate and drank together; they were from the same village or clan; “you taught in our streets” they say – but such casual acquaintances are not enough.

What is required is making a genuine commitment to Him. Therefore even those of us who have responded, have accepted the faith, must always be weary of complacency. We can never become self-righteous, or self-assured of our salvation. We must strive, every day, to enter through the narrow gate – not choosing the easy way, the path of least resistance – but allowing the Gospel to challenge us to constant, daily conversion.

In that spirit, our second reading from the Letter to the Hebrews exhorts us: “do not disdain the discipline of the Lord . . . at the time all discipline seems a cause not for joy but for pain; yet later it brings the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who are trained by it.”

So then, accepting salvation is, in this sense, like many great but difficult pursuits in life. You want to be a good soccer player, a concert pianist, a gourmet cook? You want to be an excellent student or to be in great physical shape?

Merely desiring these things isn’t enough . . . and there’s no point in wondering how many people achieve such goals – it doesn’t much matter how many people end up being star athletes, or concert pianists, or Julia Childs.

If we said everyone who wanted to be a star athlete or a Rhoades Scholar became one, first we’d be lying, and second we’d imagine that we don’t have to work very hard to accomplish it, and then we’d never get there. And if we said that very few people attained such a goal we might become discouraged and never try, which is always a sure way of failure.

Rather, the principle thing that matters in attaining such goals is that you start out and persevere with the discipline that is required. You have to practice or study every day; you have to prioritize your training and spend time on it; you have to forgo other things; and perhaps most of all, after a set-back or a failure, you have to remain resolute and determined – you have to recommit and keep working hard toward your goal.

The same is true of the spiritual life and our pursuit of salvation – that’s why Jesus focuses His answer on our good efforts and perseverance and not on numbers or percentages. The spiritual life is difficult and our acceptance of Christ’s offer of salvation requires tremendous effort.

We do ourselves a disservice if we become obsessed with worrying about who will and won’t “make the cut.” We also do ourselves a disservice if we convince ourselves that because God is love then everyone must be saved, no matter what.

In either case, we run the risk of not ever bothering to work toward real spiritual development. Yes, God’s desire for us to be saved is infinite; His love for us is infinite – but Jesus makes it clear: we must “strive to enter through the narrow gate.”

In St. John’s Gospel Jesus says that He is Himself the gate through whom we must pass. The gate is in the shape of Jesus. So in order to enter into salvation we need to be shaped and conformed to Him.

How do we do this? Note that today’s Gospel occurs “as He was making His way to Jerusalem.” Jesus was headed towards the cross. In order to take the shape of Jesus, to conform ourselves to Him, we must make our lives take the shape of the cross as well.

The narrow gate will require us to suffer – to train and hone our skill – to strip away everything that isn’t essential – to drop all sorts of baggage in order to pass through. It requires that we daily pick up our cross, and lay down our lives in loving service of our brothers and sisters.

So, like any athlete, or musician, or scholar looking to achieve in their field, we must, each and every day, commit ourselves to “working out our salvation.” Our regimen includes things like making time for daily prayer with Scripture or the Rosary; regularly making an examination of conscience and going to Reconciliation; it necessarily includes disciplines like fasting and providing care for the poor and neglected.

And of course, most of all, it requires the Eucharist. Like an athlete at a training table we come to the altar to be nourished by consuming the very One to whom we wish to be conformed. We receive the strength we need to enter through the narrow gate.

We pray that this Eucharist, which is a foretaste of the “table in the kingdom of God,” will indeed give us the wisdom, the courage and the strength that is required to seek and follow the narrow way, day by day.

A Home for a Hero

Several weeks ago in Portland I preached a homily about Brendan Marracco, an Army veteran from Staten Island who lost all four limbs in combat in Iraq. There is word today that ground has been broken on a new home for Brendan, specially equipped to ease his transition to independent living. All the best to the contractors and donors who are making this possible and especially to Brendan and his family.

Homily for the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary

The Marian feast we celebrate today, the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin, is considered the Church’s principal Marian observance – it crowns the whole series of Marian celebrations that we mark throughout a liturgical year: from the Feast of her Immaculate Conception, to the Annunciation, and the celebration of her Divine Motherhood.

In the words of the Second Vatican Council, we celebrate today the fact that "when Mary’s earthly life was over", she "was taken up body and soul into heavenly glory... and exalted as Queen over all things, so that she might be the more fully conformed to her Son, who is Lord of all, and the conqueror of sin and death" (Lumen Gentium, n. 59).

This is to say that the Assumption echoes very closely the joyful news of Christ’s victory at Easter. Just as Christ rose bodily from the dead, conquering sin and death forever, so now the Immaculate Virgin, already free of the stain of any sin, follows her Son body and soul into heaven.

In the words of our beautiful first reading, from the Book of Revelation, we contemplate “a great sign in the heavens:” a woman, “the handmaid of the Lord,” who has given birth to “the ruler of all the nations,” and is now “clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and a crown of twelve stars on her head.”

This vision of our Blessed Mother enthroned in heaven is a cause of great joy for us. In celebrating Mary’s Assumption we anticipate all that will happen when the end of time comes, when, as St. Paul says in our second reading, Christ “raised from the dead,” “hands over the kingdom to His God and Father, and has destroyed every sovereignty, authority and power.”

When this happens, we too will rise with Him. Where Mary has gone, we can now hope to follow! In the Assumption, we see the goal that we ourselves are called to attain at the end of our earthly journey: we too are destined to rise body and soul into heaven and to reign with Christ!

Though our Gospel for today’s feast is the story of Mary’s Visitation to her kinswoman Elizabeth, it is in reality the perfect passage to meditate on so that Mary can “show us the way of life, show us how we too can become blessed.” Her Magnificat, and the narrative surrounding it, is a “mirror of Mary’s soul, an icon in which we see” who Mary really is and what we must do to follow her into glory.

“Blessed are you who believed”:

In today’s Gospel, when Mary arrives at the house of Zechariah, Elizabeth greets her by proclaiming, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb . . . Blessed are you who believed that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled.”

Mary is blessed because she believed, she trusted – “Mary is blessed because -- totally, in body and soul, and forever -- she became the Lord's dwelling place.”

And so, “the first and fundamental” step in our following of Mary, in our becoming a dwelling place of the Lord, is to have faith: to believe in God, “who has shown himself in Christ Jesus and makes himself known in” the Scriptures, in the Liturgy and in the Church.

This believing is not merely the acceptance of a principal, an idea, or a piece of data – it is not an exercise of the intellect, because the “conviction, that God exists is not information like any other.”

Believing is an act of the will – and must become the fundamental reality upon which our lives are built. To believe, to echo Mary’s ‘yes’ and say, ‘I am the servant of the Lord; let it be done to me according to your word,’ this must give direction to the entirety of our lives. More than a thought, believing must be for us, as it was for Mary, “a way of acting, and a manner of living.”

“I Magnify the Lord”:

Mary’s response to Elizabeth’s greeting, her great canticle of thanksgiving, comprises the center of today’s Gospel. And in Mary’s very first words we see that her belief has indeed become her way of acting and her manner of living. “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,” she says “and my spirit rejoices in God my savior . . . the Almighty has done great things for me and Holy is His Name.”

Mary’s entire life becomes an act of worship of the Lord she has brought forth into the world. She declares the greatness of God because she has made God great in her own life and wants Him to be great in our lives as well. Mary “knew that if God is great, we too are great. She was not afraid that God might be a ‘rival’ in our life,” that His greatness might somehow crush our freedom.

The tragic sin of our first parents, Adam and Eve, was that they thought otherwise – they imagined that they could set God aside and become like gods themselves!

“This is the great temptation for us in the modern age as well.” We are constantly tempted into thinking that God’s commandments merely restrict us – that without God we could have more freedom, more autonomy and independence. We imagine that to be truly free is to be our own gods and to simply do as we please.

But the truth is that “when God disappears, men and women do not become greater; rather, they lose their divine dignity, and can therefore be used, abused and discarded.” So much of our modern society shows that this is precisely what happens to humanity when God is absent.

Mary’s life of worship shows us that “only if God is great is humankind also great.” And so with Mary we “must ensure that God is great in our lives,” and make Him present in the world, for it is only then that “we too will become divine!”

“Mary set out in haste”:

Finally, in today’s Gospel, St. Luke sets the stage for Mary and Elizabeth’s encounter by telling us that after Gabriel’s announcement, “Mary set out and traveled to the hill country in haste.”

This makes clear that Mary’s vocation to make God present required “taking a new road and immediately setting out.” There could be no delay, and God alone could lead her on this journey.

The rest of Mary’s life “is marked by this ‘holy haste’ which knows that God always has priority and nothing” can keep us from following where He leads. Even in moments of darkness and suffering,” from Bethlehem, to exile in Egypt, and even to the foot of the Cross, Mary follows God’s plan of love and bears her Son to the world.

Following in Mary’s footsteps, hoping to reign with her in eternal glory, we too must set out with haste on the path of vocation that God is leading us on. We must not only believe in the Lord, and become His dwelling place, and worship Him who dwells within us – we must also bring Him to the world as Mary brought Jesus to Elizabeth.

“When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting the infant leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, cried out in a loud voice.” So too, when we go in service to our brothers and sisters they will recognize Christ in us and be filled with the joy of His Spirit.

Friends, we will emulate our Blessed Mother, when we believe as she believed and make faith in God the very foundation of our living. We will emulate Mary when we worship as she worshipped, and find our freedom and our greatness in adoring and proclaiming God’s greatness. We will emulate Mary when we answer God’s call with haste, and bear Christ to others as she did.

Brothers and sisters, if we emulate our Blessed Mother in these ways, then we can dare to hope that we will follow her in yet another way – we can hope that we will rise with her, body and soul into heaven, and reign there forever with her and her Son.

This homily is a distillation of three homilies Pope Benedict XVI has given on the Assumption during his papacy. The hyperlinked section titles above correspond to the respective homilies and the quotes taken from them.

Romance of the Divine Kind

National Review Online has posted an interview with Fr. George Rutler, pastor of the Church of Our Savior in Manhattan and author of a new book, Cloud of Witnesses. In the interview, he is asked how his book - a collection of stories about people he has known and learned from in his ministry - is a celebration of the priesthood?

Fr. Rutler responded: "I do not know of any condition of man, any state of life, which gives such immediate access to so many people of all kinds, as does the Catholic priesthood. That is why the devil especially hates priests. The moment a priest is ordained, he may hear the confession of a king or a beggar, and whatever palace or hovel he enters he is “Father.” This is not romance, except of the divine kind: It was ordained by Christ the night before he died. So when I write about people, I celebrate the fact that they were able to look over my frail shoulders and see a much bigger Man behind me."

Land O Lakes

My last bit of summer fun before the start of school came with my return to the Midwest. After flying back from Portland, Frs. Greg Haake and Michael Wurtz joined me for the drive north to the University of Notre Dame's property in Land O' Lakes, Wisconsin.

The past week was spent sitting on that dock there, enjoying the warm dry air and the fabulous sun!

When I wasn't reading, I simply enjoyed the view, listened to some music and soaked up the sun. When I was reading, I read two books I received as gifts from a good friend who also happens to be one of our newest Holy Cross seminarians . . .  "One Step Closer" is a theological examination of the deeply Christian world-view that saturates the lyrics of U2.  "Conformed to Christ Crucified" is a collection of homilies on the priesthood by Fr. Joseh Carola, S.J. Both books were excellent and provided lots of food for thought and prayer, and thus brought a retreat-like feel to my time in Land O' Lakes.

Every afternoon during our stay the gang shared Mass, social and supper, and then either hit the lakes for fishing, or the porch for cigar smoking and games. I stayed away from fishing and cigars, but was happy to influence the selection of games. In the past, cribbage and hearts have ruled the day - but I hate card games. So I was pleased that the brethren humored me and played lots of Scrabble this time!

We also enjoyed several after dinner cruises on the pontoon boat. One of the many joys of Land O' Lakes is that it brings together a diverse groups of CSCs from across several different age groups . . . the oldest of whom remember a time when Holy Cross owned the property and it housed the seminary formation programs during the summer months.

The weather all week was terrific, but there was one good storm during our visit. We were out on the lake as it came up and we smartly moved the party back to land as it approached.

The storm produced a beautiful rainbow. Although this picture doesn't quite capture it, the rainbow was in fact a double rainbow . . . though it wasn't quite "double all the way."  

As always my time in Land O Lakes was fabulously restful - a wonderful time of relaxation, community and prayer. Now I'll have ten days on campus at Notre Dame before I set sail for Maryland! It should be more than enough time to run some errands, pack my few remaining belongings, and say some goodbyes.

Hood River

On my last day in Portland, Ken Hallenius joined me for breakfast at the Killingsworth carts. As you may recall, Portland is simply crawling in food carts and they really do offer some amazing food at great prices. This particular stand of carts was new to North Portland since my departure, so I was happy to give them a try.

We then drove through the Columbia River Gorge to Hood River and the Full Sail Brewery. 

I have been there many times, but Ken had never been before despite his interest in home-brewing. We took the brewery tour and sampled several of their beers, including one of my all-time favorites:

That evening, back in Portland, the gang gathered for dinner at Foster Burger, recently named one of the ten best new burgers in the country!  Fully sated, and quite a bit heavier than when I arrived, I flew out of PDX that evening and returned to Notre Dame. It was a wonderful time being back in Portland and I already can't wait for my next visit. Now the diet begins!!

The Oregon Zoo

During my four years in Portland I never made a visit to the Oregon Zoo despite it's considerable reputation. The Noems certainly enjoy going as a family and I was happy to accept an invitation to join Stacey and the kids on one of their regular visits.

In terms of the animals, I was particularly impressed by the eagles and how close we were able to get to these majestic birds.

I also enjoyed seeing some of the more exotic animals, including this giraffe:

But most of all, it was a lot of fun spending time with these little monkeys ;)

On our way out of the zoo, we were able to feed these colorful little birds. Here Simon lures one to a fence post . . . but yours truly actually let the darn things land on his arm! Sadly, there are no pictures of this city boy's rare interaction with nature!

Back at the house Lucy and Simon decided that, like the birds, they needed to be replenished with a sweet summer elixir. Lemonade fit the bill, and dad put them in charge of making it!!

I was very happy to spend the day with the kids and to enjoy yet another of Portland's attractions.

Le Pigeon

Several years ago during one of their visits to Portland, Kevin and Jeanette suggested that we try a restaurant called Le Pigeon. Kevin had done some research and heard good things about the place. I had never been, and we didn't end up making it . . . then the restaurant won several distinguished awards . . . and I left Portland without making a visit.

Josh and Stacey made their first visit not long after and rubbed it in that I lived in South Bend ;)

So on my recent stay in Stumptown I made a point of planing a trip to Le Pigeon, and was thrilled to have Gerry, Brenda, Josh and Stacey join in . . . but perhaps most exciting was having Fr. Ed Obermiller along for the evening. Ed is a fabulous chef in his own right and we have a shared love of all things Portland. In addition, this was also hist first visit to Le Pigeon!

Le Pigeon is a tiny establishment, with a miniscule open kitchen, allowing patrons to see the artists at work. Ed was especially impressed with how well the staff worked in such a small space. The pictures I took of our food simply don't do justice to the meal, so I'll include just one of them below. . .

I enjoyed the Foie Gras Torchon, with cherry jam and buttermilk pancakes, seen below. The sweetbreads, scallops, and pork belly appetizers were also enjoyed at our table.

For my entree, I relied on our waitress' recommendation that the house speciality was beef bourguignon. It was a wonderful suggestion. For dessert several of us were won over by an apricot cornbread topped with maple ice cream, and covered with bacon and maple syrup. It was simply fantastic - but with bacon involved how could it not be!? This dessert has gotten Le Pigeon quite a bit of press, as you can see at the link above.

As good as the food and setting were, the company and conversation were even better! I can't wait to once more be around a table with these great people!