Author: John Oliva

  • Taking Your Faith on Vacation: How to Plan the Ultimate Spiritual Road Trip

    Taking Your Faith on Vacation: How to Plan the Ultimate Spiritual Road Trip

    We are at the peak of summer vacation time, and to me, that means one thing — road trips! In fact, I consider myself to be something of a road trip aficionado. My road trips always involve curated playlists handpicked specifically for that particular adventure. I never leave on an interstate journey without a legal pad and Sharpie in order to communicate with other motorists. And most of my road trips have included original car games. Some have had costumes, and a few notable outings involved hand puppets to entertain passing truckers. Mixed in with all of these shenanigans however, my family and friends make sure to never leave our Catholic faith at home. Travel is a great way to experience the sheer variety and vastness of the Catholic tradition and the universal Catholic Church. Here are a handful of suggestions for how you, your friends, and family can take your faith on the road on your next vacation.

    Visit a unique new church

    My family always celebrates Mass while we’re on vacation, which lets us simultaneously experience the local culture and also participate in a Mass that is often entirely different than what we are accustomed to. Doing so, we have attended Mass in enormous basilicas and tiny chapels, overlooking the ocean in Mexico, and under towering trees at an outdoor Mass in Northern Michigan. Masstimes.org can steer you toward all manner of churches, no matter your destination. The website catholicplaces.org also lists notable Catholic points of interest but focuses on basilicas, cathedrals, and shrines that go beyond the typical neighborhood parish.

    RELATED: What Are Some Great Catholic Sites to Visit on Vacation?

    Catch a music festival

    In recent decades, music festivals have become destinations of their own. There are weekend-long concert events spanning all music genres, and Christian music is no different. Some of the bigger shows yet to happen this summer include Soulfest, Shippensburg, Pennsylvania’s Uprise Festival, and PointFest at Cedar Point in Sandusky, Ohio. A listing and map of many of the larger Christian music festivals can be found here.

    The author on a road trip with his family.

    Head to campus

    I live in a college town. I was initially surprised at how many tourists visit Michigan State University’s campus each day. Some are alumni, some are families with prospective students, and many others have unique motivations like seeing a football game in every Big Ten stadium. Check out the USCCB’s list of U.S. Catholic Colleges and Universities. Play a round of golf at the Abbey Golf Course at St. Leo’s University, tour the McMullen Museum of Art at Boston College, or take a guided tour of the St. Joan of Arc Chapel on Marquette University’s campus. Not to mention, just about every Catholic university has regularly scheduled Masses open to the public. And if you find yourself in East Lansing on MSU’s campus, be sure to walk one block north and stop by my home parish of St. John Church and Student Center, home of the Catholic Spartans. Go Green!

    RELATED: Vacation Guide to Saintly U.S. Cities

    Drop in on a parish festival

    Some regions of the country admittedly do this better than others. I tend to associate parish festivals with Midwestern cities founded by European immigrants, such as Cleveland, Milwaukee, Minneapolis/St Paul, and Indianapolis. Those dioceses, in particular, have parish festivals every weekend of the summer and well into the fall. I remember going to several of these each summer when I was a kid growing up in Milwaukee. Think beer tent, local cover bands, carnival games for the kids, and maybe even a handful of midway rides all staffed with volunteers from the hosting church. Many parish bulletins and websites will advertise not only their own events but others happening nearby. Checking out the events section of your diocesan website is another good place to start.

    Participate in an event Mass

    Summertime is when the regular Sunday Mass may burst through the church doors to take worship out into the beautiful weather God has blessed us with. There are some oceanside parishes that hold Mass on the beach, some that have Mass out on the lawn, and I have found myself at a Polka Mass or two as well. So, the next time you’re road tripping across the country, look for a Mass in the great outdoors.

    Originally published July 10, 2019.

  • Do This in Memory of Me

    Do This in Memory of Me

    John’s dad’s 1929 Model-A Ford Tudor Sedan

    “Will you take care of my car for me after I’m gone?” My father asked me while we sat in my sister’s living room. I didn’t know it at the time, but that would be one of the final face-to-face conversations he and I would have before he passed away less than a month later.

    The car that Dad was referring to was his beloved 1929 Model-A Ford Tudor Sedan. He had bought it for $125 back in 1962 when he was 14 years old and then spent the next two years restoring a car that he couldn’t yet legally drive himself. When kids his age were drooling over the latest muscle cars and building hot rods in their garages, my father was restoring a 33-year-old family car. It would be the modern-day equivalent of seeing a kid put all of his blood, sweat, and tears into a 1986 Ford Taurus station wagon.

    As a professional auto mechanic his entire life, my dad owned hundreds of cars. The Model-A was the only car he would never sell. The car was at his high school graduation, it was at my parents’ wedding (as well as the weddings of many of their friends), and it is pictured on my parents’ tombstone. So, when asked if I would take custody of his car for him, how could I say anything but yes?

    At the time that my dad died, the week before Father’s Day in 2016, his Model-A had not been on the road in close to 15 years. During those years, my mom was diagnosed with a terminal disease, and Dad became her primary caregiver. Shortly after her passing, his health quickly declined. For all of that time, the ’29 Ford sat in storage, neglected, rusting, and collecting dust. By the time I took over its care, the car’s engine was completely seized up, and no amount of pulling on its hand crank would break it loose.

    Luckily, in Dad’s collection of extra parts, he had a spare engine/clutch/transmission assembly that matched what was in the car. My 11-year-old daughter, Bella, and I spent the summer of 2017 rebuilding the spare engine and getting it running on a test stand. Then last fall, we swapped out the seized engine in the car for the one we now had running. By late November, we took the car for its maiden voyage around our neighborhood; the first time it had driven under its own power in nearly a decade and a half.

    RELATED: Virtual Father’s Day Retreat

    John and his daughter Bella getting ready to take his dad’s car for a spin.

    This whole project has become about so much more than the car. It has been a means of grieving the loss of both of my parents, a bonding experience for my daughter and me, and, believe it or not, a basis for theological reflection as well.

    That last angle didn’t occur to me until sitting in Mass one day recently when the priest referenced the famous exchange between Jesus and Peter recorded at the end of John’s Gospel: “Do you love me?”… “Feed my sheep.” (John 21:17)

    Dad’s question came echoing back to me: “Will you take care of my car for me after I’m gone?” Like Peter, I was quick to respond, but I doubt either one of us knew what we were signing ourselves up for. In both cases, by the time we knew enough to ask informed questions, the person we would have asked was no longer with us.

    By the time Jesus’ first disciples were out in the community continuing his ministry, they surely encountered and experienced many things that they felt like they were unprepared for. At Pentecost, the Holy Spirit descended upon the first disciples to continue to inspire and guide them in following their Christian mission. Dad didn’t leave me with nearly as powerful of an advocate as the Holy Spirit, but at least I have Google and YouTube to help me out.

    As I reflect on these unexpected parallels between an old Ford and the Catholic faith, I’m also struck by how they are both handed down through word and tradition from one generation to the next. We know that Jesus’ original 12 Apostles passed on the faith through their writings and through their actions. As we work on the Model-A, Bella often comments, “I love how the car still smells like Grandpa.” She’s not wrong — it does smell like him, or he smelled like it. They both had that unique potpourri of gear grease, gasoline, and exhaust that all old mechanics have. Bella still has that firsthand experience to remember what her grandfather smelled like. But her kids will not. They will have to come to rely on her descriptions, much like we have come to rely on all of those generations of Christians who have gone before us.

    I still don’t view the Model-A as “my car.” I tell people it’s my dad’s car — I’m just taking care of it for him. Someday, down the road, Bella will take over as its primary caretaker. She’ll teach her kids about their Catholic faith and how their great-grandpa bought a car for $125 when he was 14 years old. Based on what I’ve seen thus far, I think I’ll be leaving both the car and the faith in good hands.

    Originally published June 11, 2018