Meet Matthew Schnitzler, Seminarian in Residence
Before anything else, I must say with gratitude that it is only by God’s providence that I am here in Houston today, blessed with this great opportunity to be a part of the All Saints Parish community. I grew up in Calgary, Alberta, Canada, the oldest of two boys—my younger brother of five years, James, is also a seminarian for the Archdiocese of Galveston-Houston.
I believe I first felt a call to the priesthood when I was about six or seven years old. Attending mass with my family on Sundays and experiencing the church community at a young age, I always looked up to and admired our parish priest, wanting to be an altar server and wanting to be like him: leading the parish in prayer and doing good in the community. Over the years, this calling remained with me but developed as I matured. As I went through my junior high and high school years, I knew that I felt called to work with people, to be a force for good in their lives, and I continued to carry my faith with me. Admittedly, though I still felt the calling at the time of graduating high school, I did not feel ready to answer the call and enter the seminary. Instead, I attended St. Mary’s University in Calgary, where I completed my undergraduate degree in English literature. My plan was to go on to become a teacher after that. However, during the last year of my program there, I felt strongly that I needed to give serious consideration to the calling that I had put on the back burner for a while.
In February of 2017, I attended a Come and See weekend in Edmonton, Alberta, to experience the seminary life and community. This experience really answered some of the questions I had about seminary and allowed me to more seriously consider my call to the priesthood. By March, after further prayer and discernment, I decided to apply and enter seminary in the fall of 2017. I completed four years at St. Joseph’s Seminary in Edmonton before taking a year away from the seminary in 2021-22 for further discernment.
After this year away, I still felt called to continue my journey toward the priesthood, and I applied to join the Archdiocese of Galveston-Houston to continue my studies at St. Mary’s Seminary. The past six months especially have been a whirlwind as I was engaged in the process of application to the Archdiocese and the seminary here in Houston and also continuing to discern God’s will for my life—not only if it is His will that I become a priest, but where I am to serve Him.
As I said at the beginning, I cannot help but see God’s providence in everything that has transpired in my life to this point. I could never have predicted where my journey toward priesthood would take me, but I am confident in God’s plan and His work in my life. More than anything, I’m excited to be here in Houston, specifically here at All Saints Parish, beginning a new chapter in my seminary formation. I look forward to getting to know the parish community and offering whatever I can to serve God and His Church.
Coming to All Saint's Parish this week, the first week of Lent, the first thing you probably noticed was all of the purple veils covering the sacred icons and statues in the church. While it may seem strange to cover our sacred images during the Lenten season, a time when we are called to focus on God more than ever, there is good reason for the tradition. The veiling of sacred images is meant to stir in us a longing for the sacred, a desire to see those divine images which are only mere reminders of the heavenly glory to which we are all called, God's heavenly kingdom.
During the season of Lent, we are called, each in a personal way, to give something up as a form of penance. This often includes giving up our favorite foods, abstaining from meat on Fridays, fasting from our electronic devices and TVs, or making a commitment to avoid certain vices. But Lent is not only about what we don't eat or what we don't do, it is also a season in which we are called to go the extra mile, to do something more for God and our neighbor. This might include extra time for prayer or making an effort t do something good for someone, especially someone we might not consider a close friend.
In the weeks leading up to Lent, the Gospel readings prepare us for this season. In last Sunday's Gospel, for example, Jesus teaches us to love our enemies as well as our friends: "For if you love those who love you, what recompense will you have? Do not the tax collectors do the same?" Mt. 5:46
On the fourth Sunday of ordinary time, a few weeks back, we heard the Beatitudes: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven..." Mt. 5:3 The Beatitudes, in particular, provide us with a sort of road map to heaven, teaching us how we ought to live our lives so that we all might one day see God's heavenly kingdom.
During this time of Lent, when we are called to penance and fasting, let us feast on the word of God and live the Gospel message. While we abstain from those temporal goods that we enjoy here on earth –the beautiful art in the church or our favorite foods –, let us listen attentively and fill ourselves with the word of God that nourishes our souls. May the Word of God live in each of us during this Lenten season and lead us to the joy of the resurrection.
Imagine for a moment that you are not a Christian, you have no notion of God or Jesus, and you enter a Catholic church for the first time on Good Friday. In the church, set in a prominent place, you see a crucifix, a man nailed to a cross. During the Good Friday service, the crucifix is brought forward and each person in the congregation comes forward and bows before the crucifix, touching it reverently, and kissing the wounds of the man hanging from the cross.
Certainly, you would have many questions. Who is this man on the cross? Why is he given such honor and respect? Indeed, what a strange thing it is that these Christians revere this image of a man on a cross. Was not crucifixion reserved for criminals?
As the people continue proceeding forward to reverence the crucifix, in your confusion, you turn to the person next to you and whisper, “Who is the man on the cross?”
They reply, “That is our God, the Lord Jesus Christ.”
At this point, you might have more questions than before. What kind of God would allow himself to die on a cross? What did He do to deserve that gruesome death? If Jesus was really God, why didn’t he use His power to come down from the cross and save himself? Would that not be a greater sign of his power than dying on the cross?
Contrast the image of Christ crucified with the heroic images of the Greek or Roman gods like Zeus, Apollo, or Jupiter, who are depicted as muscular, powerful, even super-human. It would seem absurd to believe that this man on the cross is the all-powerful king of the universe.
St. Paul addresses this in his first letter to the Corinthians:
“For Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles.” (1 Cor. 1:22)
To understand the image of Christ crucified, we must understand that our Lord Jesus died for us, as a sacrifice to redeem us from sin and save us from eternal death. Furthermore, without the resurrection, the crucifix would be a symbol of despair.
St. Paul writes again to the Corinthians, “If there is no resurrection of the dead, then not even Christ has been raised. And if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith.” (1 Cor. 15:13-14)
For one blessed with faith, the symbol of Christ crucified is not one of despair, but of sacrifice, salvation, and hope. Even more than that, it is the greatest symbol of love.
John the Evangelist writes, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.” (John 3:16-17)
Unlike the pagan gods, Jesus did not come to redeem us wielding strength and a sword, but rather offered himself as a sacrifice for us, shedding his blood as a sign of the New Covenant-- “Love one another as I have loved you.” (John 15:12)
As we enter into Holy Week, let us reflect on the crucified Christ without losing hope in the resurrection. For just as Christ was raised from the dead, so too will we be raised on the last day. Just as Christ gave his whole self for our redemption, so too are we called to offer ourselves in love and service to our neighbor.
“No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15:13)
What a joyful symbol the cross is for one who has faith.
May God bless you and your families as you journey with Christ this Holy Week.
The fourth Sunday of Easter is known as Good Shepherd Sunday. The theme of Christ as the Good Shepherd who calls His sheep is reflected in the Sunday readings, providing us with an opportunity to reflect on the theme of vocation.
The word vocation comes from the Latin, vocare, which means, to call. As such, a vocation is a calling. Each and every person has a vocation, that is, each of us is called personally by God to unite ourselves with His will and to be joined with Him for eternity. Often, the term vocation is associated with the call to priesthood or religious life, and while some are called to serve God as priests or religious, many are called to the married state, or to holy single lives. Every person alive shares a common vocation—we are all called to share eternity with God.
Of course, a calling requires a response, and how we respond reflects our personal vocation, the particular life we are called to lead in service to God. We are all called to repentance, as Peter in the first reading says, and to live out our baptismal promises as Christians. However, as each of us is uniquely created by God, so too are we each called in a particular way to use our gifts and talents to serve God and each other.
In the second reading, Peter exhorts us to be patient in our sufferings. To be sure, our responding to God’s call will not be without hardship and struggle. We are called to follow a narrow path, to do God’s will, and to offer our own will and desires to God for purification. The Gospel reading makes clear that the way to salvation is through Christ alone, there is no alternative gate.
Oftentimes, the first struggle of vocation is navigating the path that God has prepared for us. It is so simple to say that we ought to live a holy life, to live the Gospel message, to love God and neighbor, but life is complicated and that simple message becomes quickly muddied in our day to day. Recognizing that we are all called by God, it is essential that we discern that calling, to try and understand it so that we can live it out in a practical manner. The best way to begin discerning vocation is through prayer, to quiet our hearts from the noise of the world and focus on God so that His will might become the light that illuminates our lives.
The formula for such prayer can be modeled after the perfect prayer given to us by Jesus, the Lord’s Prayer. We glorify God as Father first and foremost and we submit to Him our lives and our will so that His will be done on Earth as in Heaven. Then we may ask for particular petitions— like daily bread—those things that we need to get us through our day: help with our hardships, consolation when we are in sorrow, strength if we are weak, or other more specific intentions. We acknowledge our wrongdoings and failures, asking forgiveness for our sins, promising to do good for others, offering our own forgiveness when others offend us, and seeking peace in our hearts. Finally, we commit to holiness, to avoiding sin and evil, and staying on the straight and narrow path. Through prayer in this way, we entrust our lives to God and allow Him to be the center of our lives so that His will might shape our actions, guiding us to eternal life.
A good shepherd needs good sheep. We are called to be good sheep, to submit our lives to God and trust that the Good Shepherd will lead us. All that is left is to follow Him.