Resolutions

For all but a few of us, most New Year's resolutions get packed away with the last of the Christmas decorations. By Epiphany our behavior and the whole New Year are just as tarnished as they were before January 1st.

The problem with most of our resolutions is that they are too safe, too sensible and too self-centered. We resolve to make tiny cosmetic changes in our lifestyles -- but refuse to consider restructuring our lives and changing the paradigms by which we live. Saint Luke's single story about the boy Jesus offers us an example of what it would mean if we were to transform our lives by making the ultimate resolution, the mother of all New Year's resolutions, the resolution that ends all resolutions -- to declare that from this day forward we will be "about our Father's business."

Joseph and Mary, their friends, neighbors and relatives, all made the required pilgrimage to Jerusalem for the Passover feast. But as soon as the allotted time for the holiday was over, they hit the road -- anxious to get back to all the chores and responsibilities that filled their lives. Joseph, a craftsman working with stone and wood, undoubtedly had projects awaiting his attention. Mary would have had the hundreds of time-consuming tasks it took to keep her family fed and clothed. Like most of us at the end of an extended vacation, they were probably looking forward to getting back to the comfortable familiarity of their own hearth and home.

But the young Jesus refuses to let his relationship with God be regulated according to some prearranged, culturally imposed schedule. Instead of going along with the return-to-business-as-usual attitude, Jesus answered the most important call of all -- to be about his Father's business.

What would it mean if we were to act in a similar fashion? What would it mean to live, not according to human expectations or cultural patterns, but according to what God required of us? What does it mean to be about God's business, rather than other people's business, or even other people's definition of God's business? Jesus discovered at this early age that answering God's expectations can get you in trouble -- even with your own family. In fact, focusing on God's business may put an unexpected crimp in the family business."

The Holy Family

When we speak of the Holy Family, we speak of a family that struggled and suffered, like so many of us.

But, this family also knew profound hope.
They trusted completely in God. They call all of us to that kind of trust. And they stand with us. In our own time, they stand beside all who worry, who struggle, who search, who pray.

The Holy Family stands beside parents anxious about their children, worrying for their welfare. They walk with immigrants and refugees separated from those they love. They walk with teenage mothers and single parents. They console the prisoner, the outcast, the bullied, the scorned — and the parents who love them. And they offer solace and compassion to any mother or father grieving over the loss of a child.

This Christmas, they weep with the parents of Newtown and Sandy Hook. The Holy Family shares our burdens. But they also uplift us by their example. Jesus, Mary and Joseph were never alone. They endured through the grace of God.

They prayed. They trusted. They hoped. And in all that, they found peace and strength.
We might ask ourselves where we can find that peace, that strength, in our own families, in our own lives.

We find an answer in Paul’s beautiful letter to the Colossians.
This passage that we hear today is sometimes read at weddings. Like Paul’s Letter to the Corinthians, it speaks eloquently of love.

But Paul wasn’t writing about romantic love. This letter we hear today is about how to form a healthy and holy Christian community. And from his words, we can draw lessons about how to form a healthy and holy Christian family. Put on compassion, Paul tells us. Kindness. Lowliness. Meekness. Patience. Forgiveness. And love.

It is all that simple — and all that difficult. I’m sure the Holy Family had moments when living those virtues seemed hard, or even impossible. But they did things most of us don’t. They listened to angels. They dreamed.

And they gave themselves fully to God.

They made of their lives a prayer.

If you find yourselves overwhelmed, just look toward the crèche. There is our model for living: Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Those three people were often overwhelmed, too. Yet, in a time of anxiety and difficulty, persecution and tragedy—a time very much like our own–they showed us how to be people of faith, people of forgiveness, people of love.

They showed us, very simply, how to be holy.

H/T The Deacon's Bench

Holy Family

H/T to The Deacon's Bench for this video story.

It take 12 minutes to watch this beautiful video about a remarkable teacher in Louisville, Kentucky, Jeffrey Wright. It is inspiring to encounter during the Feast of the Holy Family. Here is love, pure love.

Parental advisory: keep a Kleenex nearby and be prepared to hug your kids like crazy. Then be prepared to watch it again and send it to everyone you know.

The Sunday Word

The Feast of the Holy Family

No matter how broken, how guilty, how unforgiving we are of even ourselves, God forgives and he loves. Even in failure he is there for us and in Him we can go on. We are unique and our relationships are also, but at the same time some things are alike. I’m sure parents of adolescents can identify with the disappearing Jesus and the “where were you?” “what were you doing?” The typical answer is “nothing!” So today we see a short glimpse of the “Holy Family” even they had some foibles. But God is perfect and He gives a lot of forgiveness and love.

Therein lies the real basis of a family and relationships. To commit to each other requires love and patience and forgiveness but all that is always in God. He has to be the foundation for family. The commitment of two people requires that they give themselves freely to the other. God is discovered in this way and a couple grows and shares and spreads that love.

We see that kind of love in the Gospel today. Mary and Joseph’s relationship was certainly unique and they had the most unique special needs child in history. Imagine their dilemma between letting go and protectiveness. His “Father’s business” and growing up. The angel told them they would have a son but they had to figure the rest out themselves. Like all of us they did their best. I suppose that today we are celebrating their best. God is good to us what further needs do we have?

Innocence

"God is my salvation ... my strength and my might; he has become my salvation."

John the Baptist didn't have a sweet and soothing message for those who were waiting for the Messiah, and we can't expect this season to be any more comfortable for us than it was for stable-bound Joseph, Mary and their baby boy. Since the time of Christ, children have been thrust into dirty, dangerous and desperate situations. Jesus was born in a war zone, one in which the carnage was catastrophic. Herod's "Slaughter of the Innocents" caused the daughters of Rachel to weep with inconsolable grief. The Holy Family, homeless and no visible means of support, fled to safety in Egypt and lived as aliens with their child in a strange land.

"God is my salvation ... my strength and my might; he has become my salvation."

Surprise

Christmas means we have been surprised by God.

Sometimes, like Herod, we are surprised by fear.

Sometimes, like the Magi, we are surprised by wisdom from the ordinary.

Other times, like Mary, we are surprised by angels unaware.

Many times, like the shepherds, we are surprised by joy.

But always, like planet earth on that silent night long, but not that long ago, we are surprised by a God who is full of surprises. Are we open to receiving God's surprises, which are around the corner of every hour of every day?

The love of Christ: That is the source of all Christmas surprises and true Christmas joy. It is the simple center of the holy day/holiday which has become increasingly elusive as our festivities have become more frenzied and our lives more frantic.

Connect

Christmas marks the moment when, in order for our relationship with him to be restored, God sent his Son into the world so that we could have forgiveness, a fresh start, and membership in the family of God. Connecting with God required a costly death.

Truly relating, really connecting with those around us, will require a death as well. It might be the death of your pride, of your comfort zone, of your expectations or demands, of your perfect schedule, of your desire for somebody else to go first, or of your need for someone to see your side and say "you're right." What will have to die in order for you to do some costly connecting?

Christmas

Christmas marks the moment when, in order for our relationship with him to be restored, God sent his Son into the world so that we could have forgiveness, a fresh start, and membership in the family of God. Connecting with God required a costly death.

Truly relating, really connecting with those around us, will require a death as well. It might be the death of your pride, of your comfort zone, of your expectations or demands, of your perfect schedule, of your desire for somebody else to go first, or of your need for someone to see your side and say "you're right." What will have to die in order for you to do some costly connecting?

The Last days

Advent does not lead to nervous tension stemming from expectation of something spectacular about to happen. On the contrary, it leads to a growing inner stillness and joy allowing me to realize that he for whom I am waiting has already arrived and speaks to me in the silence of my heart.

Just as a mother feels the child grow in her and is not surprised on the day of the birth, but joyfully receives the one she learned to know during her waiting, so Jesus can be born in my life slowly and steadily and be received as the one I learned to know while waiting.

—Henri J.M. Nouwen, The Genesee Diary: Report from a Trappist Monastery (Crown, 2013).

Help My Unbelief

The final days of Advent

Advent is about the many ways in which the Lord comes. 

 He came historically at Bethlehem in the fullness of time. In the liturgical year he comes to us sacramentally. He will come again at the end of the world as Judge of the living and the dead. Christ comes to us also in the consecration of the Body and Blood of Christ Mass and, in a special way in Holy Communion. He comes in the person of the priest, who is alter Christus, another Christ. He comes in the words of Holy Scripture. He also comes in the person of our neighbor, especially those who are in need of the spiritual and corporal works of mercy.

The advent symbol

During Advent, John the Baptist has been reminding us in the liturgy to "make straight His paths". When we come to the Lord in death, or He comes to us in His Second Coming, He will make straight the path whether we have during our earthly lives done our best to straighten it ahead of time or not. Let us now, while we may, make straight the paths by which Christ Jesus comes.

Christ's home on earth

I think we’re going to have an exceptionally good Christmas. The very fact that outward circumstance precludes our making provision for it will show whether we can be content with what is truly essential. I used to be very fond of thinking up and buying presents, but now that we have nothing to give, the gift God gave us in the birth of Christ will seem all the more glorious; the emptier our hands, the better we understand what Luther meant: We are beggars, it’s true. The poorer our quarters, the more clearly we perceive that our hearts should be Christ’s home on earth.

—Dietrich Bonhoeffer, “Letter to his fiancée Maria von Wedemeyer,” December 1, 1943, in God Is in the Manger: Reflections on Advent and Christmas (Westminster John Knox, 2012), 6.

Help My Unbelief

Marianist Monday

Advent/Christmas/New Year’s 2019 – 2020

My dear graduates of Chaminade, Kellenberg Memorial, and St. Martin de Porres Marianist School,

Sacred Scripture seems to hold mountains in high regard. Consider, for example, these passages from the book of Isaiah:

“In the days to come, the mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established as the highest mountain and raised above the hills. All the nations shall stream toward it; many people shall come and say, “Come, let us climb the Lord’s mountain, to the house of the God of Jacob, that He may instruct us in His ways, and we may walk in His paths.” (Isaiah 2: 1 – 3)

“The wolf shall be the guest of the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; the calf and the young lion shall browse together, with a little child to guide them . . . There shall be no harm or ruin on all my holy mountain; for the earth shall be filled with knowledge of the Lord. (Isaiah 11: 6)
“On this holy mountain, the Lord of Hosts will provide for all peoples, a feast of rich food and choice wines.” (Isaiah 25: 6)

Unfortunately, I’ve never been much of a fan of mountains. Don’t get me wrong; I certainly like to admire their beauty from afar. But climbing mountains – well, that’s another story entirely.

I think I was traumatized back in the summer of 1967. I was only eleven years old at the time. My family was driving back to Long Island, coming home from a vacation in Quebec City and Montreal, Canada. My dad was a member of the New York State Assembly at the time, and an environmentalist group had convinced him to spend the night at Mount Marcy Adirondack Lodge, which, as far as I was concerned, was located in the middle of nowhere. We arrived just shy of midnight (very scary – lots of wild animals growling and howling in the night) and woke up bright and early the next morning to join naturalist Bob on a trek up the foothills of Mount Marcy. Somewhere in the Balletta family albums, there’s a photo of my brother and me – frowning, exhausted, drenched in perspiration. We were not happy campers!

About twenty years later, my dear friend Bro. Ryszard Decowski persuaded me to go hiking with him at Harriman State Park – against my better judgment. We were climbing up what was, in reality, a beginner’s trail but what seemed to me more like Mount Kilimanjaro. Near the top, we came to a rock ledge that we had to scale in order to reach the summit. I froze in fear. I looked down: a sheer drop along a craggy rock wall led to certain death! Ahead of me: a rough-hewn trail that afforded this city-streets-lover no possible foothold! I had nowhere that I could go, and the narrow path behind me was already filling with more experienced and now impatient hikers who were ready to ascend to the summit.

To make a long story short, Bro. Rysz made it to the top, and, with a mixture of awe and encouragement in his voice, shouted out, “Steve, you gotta come up here. You can see the New York City skyline from here. You won’t believe it!” Well, with that, I scrambled up the rest of the trail, found firm footing, and beheld a spectacular view of my beloved Manhattan. I had accessed my inner Sir Edmund Hillary, and I was richly rewarded.

And that brings me to the point of this reflection: You gotta climb the mountain. By that, I don’t mean the high peaks of all fifty states, or of the world over (although, if you can, more power to you). No, I mean that we have to climb the spiritual mountains in our lives. The going may get rough. The climb may prove arduous at times. But we gotta keep climbing. How else will we experience the rewards of the summit? How else will we reach the heights for which we were created by God? How else shall we taste of the great banquet that the Lord has provided for us on His holy mountain?

My fear is that it’s easy to become discouraged and to stop climbing, even to return to base camp.

Remember C.S. Lewis’ classic, The Great Divorce? The title might lead the unsuspecting reader to think Lewis’ novel is about marital difficulties, but it’s not at all. Instead, it’s about the chasm between heaven and hell, which Lewis dubs “the Grey Town.” As the plot unfolds, we follow the travels of a dozen or so people who take an imaginary bus ride from “the Grey Town” to “the Valley of the Shadow of Life,” where they are urged by the Spirits they meet to climb the “Mountain of the Lord” and, there, find God.

Sadly, most elect to go back to the bus stop and return to “the Grey Town.” Resentment; self-righteousness; anger; envy and jealousy; sloth; superiority and its soft underbelly, inferiority, all prevent most of the passengers from making the climb. Ultimately, they prefer the comfort and familiarity of “the Grey Town,” dreary and colorless as it may be.

Might we be like those passengers on the return bus trip back to “the Grey Town”? In all aspects of our lives? Probably not. In some – perhaps persevering in prayer, attending Sunday Mass, repairing some important but now strained relationship, or kicking some bad habit – I would guess, for the vast majority of us, the answer is “yes.”

That’s why we have to push ourselves to keep climbing.

As we lace up our hiking boots for the new year, maybe we ought to ask ourselves a few questions: In what areas of my life have I stopped climbing? Why have I done so? Why have I preferred the valley to the heights?

Have the comforts of the base camp become so alluring that I don’t want to expend the energy that climbing would require?

For those of us who are a bit older: In those areas of my life where I can no longer legitimately make the climb, do I encourage those who can? Do I offer the wisdom of a seasoned albeit now slower and weaker climber? Or, do I simmer in the resentment and cynicism of someone whom the climb has left bruised and battered, but not much better for it?

For the young: Am I patient and understanding of those who are huffing and puffing up the mountain, who are way behind me, but who are still, by God, making that climb?

And, perhaps most importantly, as family members, friends, and members of the Church, how can we encourage one another to keep climbing?

Fellow mountain climbers, our lives are decidedly not about resignation and stagnation. Ultimately, they are about hope, about aspirations, about climbing higher. And hope implies action – not frenetic activity – but steady, steadfast action – what we might call fidelity – because we believe – no, we know – that “God works all things together for the good for those who love him.” This is “the thrill of hope for which the weary world rejoices.” Let us hope, because, as St. Clement of Alexandria has warned us, “If you do not hope, you will not find what is beyond your hopes.”

And if the mountain seems to high, the incline too steep, the climb too arduous, our bodies too out-of-shape, and our souls too weary, let us remember that Jesus comes more than halfway down the mountain to meet us. That after all, is the meaning of the Incarnation, which we celebrate in this Christmas season. This is our faith; this is our hope. And our hope impels us to climb that mountain, the holy mountain of the Lord.

On behalf of all my Marianist Brothers: Advent Blessings, Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year,

Bro. Stephen

P.S. REGISER NOW: “Help My Unbelief,” A College-Age Alumni Men’s Retreat. Starts Sunday, January 5, 2020 at 2:00 p.m. and ends 3:00 p.m. the next day. Meribah Retreat House. 1904 Muttontown Road, Muttontown, NY 11791.
Sign up at www.provinceofmeribah.com/register

Magnificat

Wrapped in Saint Luke’s gospel, the first Christmas carol sung is the one composed by a young mother named Mary who was suddenly expecting a child. It’s a song of praise to the Lord which we now know as the Magnificat, but it’s also a song that sets the stage for the mission that her divine and human Son will undertake.

Some scholars and theologians have seen Mary’s song as proof that she should be numbered among the biblical prophets because her song was composed “under a prophetic impulse.”

Others think that Saint Luke placed these words in the mouth of Mary as a way of introducing the themes of his Gospel and Jesus’ future ministry. If we assume the former, however, and we see her song as divinely inspired, then it’s not a stretch to see this as a song Mary repeatedly sang to her unborn child and, if so, to see it as an influence imprinted on him even before he emerged in a manger in Bethlehem.

He has helped his servant...

The announcement of the Savior’s coming went all the way back into Israel’s history — all the way back to Abraham.

So Mary sings,

He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants forever.

God promised Abraham that from his family, all the families of the world would be blessed. From that family came a nation called Israel, whom God rescued from slavery in Egypt and gave them a promised land. There, God established a king, David, and promised David that one of his descendants would sit on the throne of Israel forever and establish God’s justice and mercy and peace — God’s kingdom — for the whole world.

The time of waiting

The time of waiting was coming to an end, and all Mary could do was sing!

“My soul magnifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,” she sings. Her song is designed to magnify, intensify, reflect and make brighter what God is doing through her son, God’s Son.

Indeed, God announces the imminent arrival of the Promised One to the very people who need to hear it most: the poor, the lowly, the broken and the marginalized — those who have no power.

Mary represents them as a young woman, barely perceived as a person in that patriarchal culture. She had no status and no prospects. With a common name, she was living in a tiny village in the middle of nowhere.

And yet, she sings: “He has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the mighty one has done great things for me, and holy is his name.”

The favored one

We must remember that when the angel greeted Mary he addressed her as “favored one.”  Mary was the “favored” or blessed with the task of bearing the Messiah. Like her ancestor Abraham, God “favored” Mary, an ordinary girl in an ordinary place, and blessed her so that she might be a blessing to the world, a vital link in the covenant chain that God had begun with Abraham generations before.

We call her blessed because she blessed the world by saying “yes” to God: “Let it be with me according to your word.”

The blessing that God will work through her will come by way of the Son that she bears, God’s own Son, who will come to save his people from sin, but also to overturn the power structures that had so long held people in slavery. She sings:

His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty. 

Mary sings

Mary sings about the promise of what happens when God occupies the earth as its true king. When God is king, all human power structures get overturned — the proud are replaced by the humble, the hungry are filled and the wealthy go hungry.

If you pay attention to the verbs in her song, they are all in the past tense. Mary sings as though these things have already happened. Such is the confidence of faith! The child whom she carries is God’s own Messiah, and this Messiah is actually God come in the flesh: the king who comes and announces in his words and actions that the kingdom has arrived.

To put it another way, we might say that Mary’s song is the outline for everything that God’s Son will do when he grows to manhood.

- He will scatter the proud and self-righteous by exposing their true selves.
- He will challenge powerful kings like Herod and Caesar, by demonstrating the power of love.
- He will advocate for justice, mercy and peace.
- He will sit with the poor, hungry, sinners and outcasts, filling them with hope.
- He will denounce the wealthy who oppress the poor.
- He will expect his followers to deny themselves, pick up a cross and follow him.

Mary sings with joy

While Mary sings with joy, we know what all of this will cost her.

A sword will pierce her soul, she is warned when Jesus is just a baby.

She will lose him and frantically search for him for three days when he’s a boy because he is about his father’s work in the temple.

She will think he has gone completely mad when he turns 30 and leaves home to start preaching and challenging powerful people.

She will suffer the agony of watching him die on a cross, nailed there by the powers that always do that to those who would oppose them.

Mary may not have had all this in mind when she composed her carol, and it is quite possible she sang this song again and again when it seemed like things were going horribly wrong for her son.

Then again, when she saw him alive three days after his death, her song would have meant even more!

Caesar Augustus

S

aint Luke explains that when Jesus was born, Rome was in control and Caesar Augustus was the emperor. Augustus considered himself a “son of god” and a “prince of peace.” He had coins minted that proclaimed those titles to the world. His divinity, however, was self-proclaimed, and his idea of peace involved eliminating all of Rome’s enemies.

In fact, this was the way of every emperor. When a new emperor came to the throne, it was heralded by messengers around the Roman world as “good news,” but it was good news only for those in power, whose peace was maintained at the point of the sword.

Good News

“I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people,” proclaimed the angel.

God’s promised return was happening, but in a way that no one expected. God was not returning as a conquering hero, a glorious cloud-surfing warrior coming back to destroy Israel’s enemies.

No, the “sign” given to these shepherds was a leaky, burpy, dirt poor little baby, born in a barn in a nowhere town called Bethlehem.

And yet, this is why the whole world was ringing — a glimpse of heaven and earth coming together, as God had intended from the beginning. God was coming to dwell with his people to redeem and save them. The long-awaited Messiah, the true king, was the Lord himself, wrapped in the swaddling clothes of a tiny baby, fully human and fully divine.

New Saint Highlight

On October 13, 2019, in St. Peter’s Square, at a Mass with over 50,000 attendees, Pope Francis declared Sister Dulce Lopes Pontes, Mariam Thresia Chiramel Mankidiyan, Cardinal John Henry Newman, Margurite Bays, and Giuseppina Vannini saints.

Cardinal John Henry Newman

Born: February 21, 1801
Died: August 11, 1890
Life: John Henry Newman was born in the city of London on February 21, 1801, to John Newman and Jemima Fourdrinie. From a young age, he hungered for truth. This desire would ultimately lead to his conversion to Catholicism. Raised an Anglican, Newman became an Anglican priest at the age of 27, as well as a professor at Oxford. In 1845, at the age of 44, Newman converted to Catholicism. He studied theology in Rome for several years before being ordained a Catholic priest in 1847. Pope Leo XII appointed Newman as Cardinal in 1879. Interestingly, Newman had neer been a bishop (typically one must be a bishop before becoming a cardinal). Today, Newman is chiefly remembered for his theological contributions, including an incredible defense of Catholic education. He is also remembered for being instrumental in the foundation of the Catholic University of Ireland in Dublin.

New Saint Highlight

On October 13, 2019, in St. Peter’s Square, at a Mass with over 50,000 attendees, Pope Francis declared Sister Dulce Lopes Pontes, Mariam Thresia Chiramel Mankidiyan, Cardinal John Henry Newman, Margurite Bays, and Giuseppina Vannini saints.

Giuseppina Vannini, Founder of the Daughters of Saint Camillus

Born: July 7, 1859, in Rome
Died: February 23, 1911
Life: Giuseppina Vannini (born Giuditta Vannini) was born to Angelo Vannini and Annunziata Papi. Her parents both died within a few years of each other, leaving Giuditta and her siblings orphans when she was just seven years old. Giuditta was separated from her siblings and sent to an orphanage run by Vincient Sisters. At the age of 28, Giuditta felt called to religious life and entered the novitiate of the Daughters of Charity in Siena. Due to poor health, Giuditta was unable to continue in the novitiate and was asked to leave. Still hoping to pursue religious life, Giuditta did not give up on her call from God. A few years later, in 1891, she met Father Luigi Tezza. Eventually, with his help, she founded the order of the Daughters of Saint Camillus, taking Giuseppina as her religious name. The mission of the order was to care for the sick. On December 8, 1895, she was made the Superior General of the order. Today, the order 800 sisters working in 22 countries.

New Saint Highlight

On October 13, 2019, in St. Peter’s Square, at a Mass with over 50,000 attendees, Pope Francis declared Sister Dulce Lopes Pontes, Mariam Thresia Chiramel Mankidiyan, Cardinal John Henry Newman, Margurite Bays, and Giuseppina Vannini saints.

Margurite Bays

Born: September 8, 1815
Died: June 27, 1879

Life: Marguerite Bays was born in Switzerland to Pierre-Antoine Bays and Josephine Morel. Though we often hear about Saints who were religious sisters/brothers/priests, Marguerite Bays was a lay woman (an ‘ordinary’ member of the Catholic Church) for her entire life. She grew up to be a seamstress. Never marrying, Marguerite devoted her life to God by serving her church community (teaching young children the faith) and by working with the sick and the poor. Attending daily Mass, maintaining a strong devotion to the Immaculate Heart of Mary, as well as the Eucharist, were all elements of Marguerite’s deep prayer life. Rooted in the Gospel, she was called to care profoundly for her family. Like many of us, her family was not perfect – her brother was imprisoned, her sister returned to Marguerite’s home after her marriage failed, and Marguerite raised her nephew who was born out of wedlock. These things did not prevent Marguerite for loving her siblings. At the age of 35, she developed intestinal cancer. Through the intercession of Our Lady, Marguerite prayed that she might be cured and instead experience the sufferings of Christ in a profound way. On December 8, 1854, the day Pope Pius IX proclaimed the Immaculate Conception dogma, she was miraculously cured. However, every Friday she experienced some time of suffering related to the Passion. Eventually, she developed stigmata on her hands, feet, and chest. On Friday, June 27, 1879, at 3pm, Marguerite Bays died.

New Saint Highlight

On October 13, 2019, in St. Peter’s Square, at a Mass with over 50,000 attendees, Pope Francis declared Sister Dulce Lopes Pontes, Mariam Thresia Chiramel Mankidiyan, Cardinal John Henry Newman, Margurite Bays, and Giuseppina Vannini saints.

• 

Sister Dulce Lopes Pontes

Born: May 26, 1914
Died: March 13, 1992

Life: Sister Dulce Lopes Pontes was born in 1914 in Salvador de Bahia as Maria Rita. At the age of 13, Maria felt called to serve the poorest of the poor. After high school, she joined the Missionary Sisters of the Immaculate Conception of the Mother of God. Once she made her vows, Maria took on the religious name Sister Dulce. Compelled to care for the poor and vulnerable, Sister Dulce founded the Charitable Works Foundation of Sister Dulce in 1959. In 1988 she was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize in recognition of her selfless work.

Thanksgiving Day

Thanksgiving Day

Most of us know the story.
It was the autumn of 1621. In Plymouth, Massachusetts, after a rich harvest, the men, women and children who had survived the first year in the New World gathered for a feast to offer thanks.

One of the pilgrims wrote at the time: “By the goodness of God, we are so far from want.”

What was it like? I did a little Googling and found that the menu for that first Thanksgiving had some surprises. It was not necessarily turkey and pumpkin pie. Historians think they probably ate fowl and venison – or deer. The pilgrims didn’t have forks, but used spoons. More likely, they ate with their hands. And the food was probably a lot more fatty than we are used to. Cholesterol was unheard of. They were more worried about plague and the pox.

They didn’t have much sugar, so sweets and deserts were probably not on the menu. So, you can forget the pumpkin pie.

Whatever it may have involved, that meal left us with an enduring tradition: a gathering around a table, giving thanks for surviving in an uncertain and difficult new place.

But a few years ago, the Unitarian minister Peter Fleck suggested we look at this differently.

Maybe, he wrote, the pilgrims weren’t thankful because they had survived.

But maybe they had survived…because they were thankful.

These were people who lived their lives in wonder and hope, grateful for everything: the hard winds and deep snows…the frightening evenings and hopeful mornings …the long journey that had taken them to a new place. They knew how to express gratitude.

Gratitude doesn’t always come easily. We all know that generosity – the giving of a gift – means thinking more about others than about yourself. It represents an act of love. But so does being thankful. To give thanks is to extend yourself. It is to remember where the gift came from.

It is to go out of your way to acknowledge that — like the one cured leper in the gospel, who changed the direction he was headed, and walked back to Jesus, all the way back from the temple, to thank him.

There is love in that. A love for the gift – and for the one who gave it.

Reverend Fleck suggested that maybe that is what enabled the pilgrims to thrive and prosper: a humble appreciation for whatever God gave them, trusting that He would give them what they would need. It’s an optimistic message, really — and gratitude, I think, carries a spirit of optimism. Maybe that spirit can teach us something, as we endure our own hard winds and deep snows – the storms of our own lives. Especially now.

Thanksgiving will be a time for family, and for celebration.

But I know it won’t be that way for everyone.

Thanksgiving isn’t about giving thanks for having a lot. It’s about giving thanks for just having. For being. For knowing that whatever we have, whether it is served on a china plate or a Styrofoam carton, it is all a gift. The prayers whispered over a Happy Meal are just as precious to God as the ones said over the turkey and stuffing.

And all of us, no matter where we find ourselves praying, will be bound together by one simple word: grace. At a few McDonald’s this Thanksgiving, I’m sure that grace will be said.

And, I am just as sure of this: that grace will be present.

The grace of gratitude. The grace of thanking God for whatever gift He gives. And in the giving, and in the receiving, and in the thanking, there is something that transcends time and place.

There is love.

Love for what we have, and love for what we have been given. And love for the God who gives it. Because no matter how fierce the winds, or how unforgiving the storm, at least on this day we all remember that God is near.

The pilgrims knew that. And so did the Samaritan. He lived a life of disfigurement and shame. But he trusted, and he listened, and he was healed — changed forever, made new.

He could have gone on his way. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He had to thank The One who made his miracle possible.

Twenty centuries later, that anonymous figure left us a legacy, and a lesson: a beautiful example of what it means to have an “attitude of gratitude.”

It is an attitude we all need to nurture — not just today, but every day. Gratitude can open our hearts – and change our lives – if only we let it.

Or, as Reverend Fleck so beautifully put it: maybe the pilgrims weren’t thankful because they survived.


Maybe they survived…because they were thankful.

Miraculous Medal

November 27 marks the feast of the Miraculous Medal, also known as the medal of the Immaculate Conception. Though the feast honors the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary, it also commemorates the anniversary of the apparition of the Mother of God to St. Catherine Laboure in Paris in 1830. Our Lady showed St. Catherine the medal she wished to be made for those to wear seeking her aid and protection. The Blessed Virgin spoke to Catherine: “Have a medal struck upon this model. Those who wear it will receive great graces, especially if they wear it around the neck.” Countless miracles followed, hence the name, the Miraculous Medal. 

"O Mary conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee."

In 12 days the Church celebrates the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception. On the 10th, the feast of Our Lady of Loreto. On the 12th, Our Lady of Guadalupe.

New Saint Highlight

On October 13, 2019, in St. Peter’s Square, at a Mass with over 50,000 attendees, Pope Francis declared Sister Dulce Lopes Pontes, Mariam Thresia Chiramel Mankidiyan, Cardinal John Henry Newman, Margurite Bays, and Giuseppina Vannini saints.

Mariam Thresia Chiramel Mankidiyan

Born: April 26, 1876
Died: June 8, 1926
Life: Mariam Thresia Chiramel Mankidiyan was an Indian mystic who cared for the poor, the sick, and lepers. Born as Thresia Mankidiyan in Kerala, India, her parents named her after St. Teresa of Avila. From a young age, Thresia had a deep and profound love for God. In 1904, Thresia had a vision in which the Blessed Virgin Mary told her to add Mariam to her name. From that point forward, she referred to herself as Mariam Thresia. In 1909, at the age of 33, Mariam Thresia received the stigmata. The Stigmata is marks, pains, or wounds in locations that match the locations of the wounds of Christ (hands, wrists, feet, side). In 1913, Mariam Thresia founded the Congregation of the Holy Family. Here, she and three companions devoted their lives to prayer, penance, and service to poor families.

Christ the King

A famous and traditional hymn is frequently used today. A hymn has strong theology, beautiful poetry, noble and moving sentiments and a simple, worshipful and singable tune. 

This is not a praise song or a devotional ditty or a song which, if you changed the word ‘Jesus’ to ‘my baby’ could make it into the pop charts. Read it and maybe sing it and ask yourself if you understand all the allusions, the symbols, the Biblical references–and if you do not why not?

Crown Him with many crowns, 

the Lamb upon His throne.
Hark! How the heavenly anthem drowns 

all music but its own.
Awake, my soul, and sing 

of Him who died for thee,
And hail Him as thy matchless King through all eternity.

Crown Him the virgin’s Son, the God incarnate born,
Whose arm those crimson trophies won which now His brow adorn;
Fruit of the mystic rose, as of that rose the stem;
The root whence mercy ever flows, the Babe of Bethlehem.

Crown Him the Son of God, before the worlds began,
And ye who tread where He hath trod, crown Him the Son of Man;
Who every grief hath known that wrings the human breast,
And takes and bears them for His own, that all in Him may rest.

Crown Him the Lord of life, who triumphed over the grave,
And rose victorious in the strife for those He came to save.
His glories now we sing, who died, and rose on high,
Who died eternal life to bring, and lives that death may die.

Crown Him the Lord of peace, whose power a scepter sways
From pole to pole, that wars may cease, and all be prayer and praise.
His reign shall know no end, and round His piercèd feet
Fair flowers of paradise extend their fragrance ever sweet.

Crown Him the Lord of love, behold His hands and side,
Those wounds, yet visible above, in beauty glorified.
No angel in the sky can fully bear that sight,
But downward bends his burning eye at mysteries so bright.

Crown Him the Lord of Heaven, enthroned in worlds above,
Crown Him the King to Whom is given the wondrous name of Love.
Crown Him with many crowns, as thrones before Him fall;
Crown Him, ye kings, with many crowns, for He is King of all.

Crown Him the Lord of lords, who over all doth reign,
Who once on earth, the incarnate Word, for ransomed sinners slain,
Now lives in realms of light, where saints with angels sing
Their songs before Him day and night, their God, Redeemer, King.

Crown Him the Lord of years, the Potentate of time,
Creator of the rolling spheres, ineffably sublime.
All hail, Redeemer, hail! For Thou has died for me;
Thy praise and glory shall not fail throughout eternity.

Crown Him!

The Sunday Word

The Solemnity of Christ the King, the last Sunday of the Year of Grace 2017. Next weekend will bring us to the First Sunday of Advent in 2017. (On the liturgical calendar, the First Sunday of Advent is a kind of New Year's Day!)

Our first scripture was from the Book of Daniel and included the title "Son of man" (which we often hear in the Gospels, though not in this week's Gospel passage). This vision in Daniel gives us an ancient reference for the kingship of Christ. The Gospel is from John and took us to the dialogue between Jesus and Pilate, a text we hear every Good Friday. Here Jesus and Pilate debated their notions of kingship.

The second scripture of the day was from Revelation: the text echoed some of the imagery from the Daniel passage and made a fleeting reference to the Passion in the words, "those who pierced him."

Kingship, dominion, kingdom, the Almighty... these scriptures draw us to consider the power of God in our lives and God's sovereignty over us. These are categories somewhat foreign to our times and culture. The question comes, then, "Who and what reign over my heart and my life?"

Meet God in the Poor

Meet God who lives with the Pope Francis: “It’s all about going out and meeting God who lives with the poor”



From La Stampa:

“It’s all about going out and meeting God who lives in cities with the poor,” Francis said. “Meeting, listening to, blessing, walking with the people; facilitating the encounter with the Lord are his rule of thumb.”

“We find it easier to help the faith grow than to help give birth to it. I think we need to continue looking into these changes which are necessary in our various catecheses. It is essentially pedagogical methods that need to change so that contents can be understood more easily. At the same time though, we need to learn to re-awaken our audience’s curiosity and interest in Jesus Christ, so that we can then invite them to follow Him.” In a spontaneous comment, he said that there is in fact a patron saint of curiosity: St. Zacchaeus: “We pray to St. Zacchaeus that he may help us … We must learn to inspire faith,” Francis added.

Marianist Round Table - 6

Marianist Round Table - 5

Marianist Round Table - 4

Marianist Round Table - 3

Marianist Round Table - 2

Marianist Round Table - 1

Dorothy Day: The Woman Who Loved Much

Rebecca Hamilton at Patheos has an interesting article about Dorothy Day:

Her sins–and they are many–have been forgiven, so she has loved much. But a person who is forgiven little shows only little love. Luke 7:47

Dorothy Day sets off controversy, even after her death.

She followed Christ as He called her, often to the discomfort and dismay of other Christians who sought a less radical Way. Does that sound familiar? If you spend much time reading biographies of the saints, it should.

The saints weren’t often people’s people. They were too busy being God’s people. The saints are also often converted sinners who had fallen into the muck and mire of their times and taken a good bath there. It seems that God often makes His saints from the worst sinners. It’s as if He can do the most with these edgy people from the pits of life; people who know that evil is real and who see by contrast that God and His love are the only solution to the evil they have known.

Dorothy Day was a converted sinner. She took her turn at living life in the fast lane of the early 20th Century. She ran with the crowd and followed its ways up to and including having an abortion. Then, as people have been doing for 2,000 years, she found Jesus, or, I would imagine, she let Him find her. And that made all the difference.

Dorothy Day lived her life for Christ after that. She founded a ministry to the poor called Catholic Worker Houses. She published a great deal in support of this ministry and did not step back from the requirement of living alongside the people she was trying to help.

Her wary attitude towards government and stubborn pacifism did not always sit well with people in the depression-ridden, war-bound years of the 1930s and 40s. It found even less support during the Cold War years that followed. I suspect Dorothy Day seemed an embarrassment, an unrealistic fanatic, to a good many of the good, church-going people of her day.

It is only now that she begins to make sense. Corporatism is beginning to take a deep toll on the lives of Americans. We have morphed into a country that is continuously at war with an ever-changing cast of enemies. The over-weaning power of government has begun to focus on active legal persecution of the Church itself. These are our times. It appears that Dorothy Day, the uncomfortable convert, is beginning to seem less like a nutty fanatic and more like a prophet for our days.

It is in that prophetic role that she continues to set off controversy. Her life is a flashpoint of disagreement for a lot of people today, just as it was in the past. Some people try to cast Dorothy Day as “their” saint, as an apologist for their personal politics. Other people attempt to disregard her and disown her because they see her life as an attack on their personal politics.

But if Dorothy Day was a living saint, then neither of these reactions apply. Saints live their lives in the service of God, not partisan politics. They don’t try to be popular with people. They set their sights on the narrow way and they walk it all the way home.

The American bishops recently cast a unanimous vote in support of the cause of declaring Dorothy Day a saint. There are a lot of potholes in the road ahead of them in this cause. Most saints are undeclared and unofficial. That’s because, hard as it is to be one, it’s even harder to be officially declared one.

For myself, I have no doubt that Dorothy Day is in heaven. I have no doubt that she lived her life for Jesus and that she was a woman of great courage. Dorothy Day was one of God’s warriors in the battle for life and human dignity. Despite, or maybe because, of her rough beginning, she was one of His best works.

Is Dorothy a Saint?

The United States Conference of Catholic Bishops enthusiastically endorsed the canonization of Dorothy Day in the past, the American-born co-founder of the Catholic Worker movement. Day’s “cause,” as it is known in church circles, was first introduced by John Cardinal O’Connor, the late Archbishop of New York. Timothy Cardinal Dolan, the current archbishop, was required under the terms of a 2007 Vatican document to consult with the regional bishops conference (in this case the USCCB) on the advisability of pursuing the canonization of Day, whose ministry was based in New York City. The bishops approved the proposal by a voice vote, after a brief discussion in which bishops praised the woman who admirers refer to simply as Dorothy.

The Immigrant Saint: Mother Cabrini

November - a month to remember

Reflection for All Souls Day

At the heart of all our worship as Catholic Christians,
we pause to remember…
We remember Christ, and all he did for us;
we remember how he suffered, died and rose for us;
and in word and sacrament,
we remember what he did at table with his friends
on the night before he died.
Every time we celebrate the Eucharist, then,
we remember someone who has died: our brother, Jesus.

And every time we celebrate the Eucharist
we remember others who have died, too.
You know the words as well as I do:
Remember our brothers and sisters
who have gone to their rest in the hope of rising again;
bring them and all the departed into the light of your presence…
We remember all our brothers and sisters in Christ
and not only them but all the departed
- everyone who has died -
and we pray that through the mercy and love of God
every one of them will enjoy the light and peace of God, forever.

Of course, when we pray for those who have died
we remember first those whom we loved the most,
those whom we miss the most.
When I pray the remembrance of the dead,
my heart seldom fails to remember my mother and father:
others, too – but always them.
I’m sure there are names that come to your heart, too.
And we pray for them…

But why do we pray for them?

What do we pray for them?

Our knowledge of human frailty and our faith in God’s mercy
teach us that when we die, God might not be quite yet finished
with fashioning us, making us ready for eternal life.

Our whole life on earth is a journey to the dwelling place
Christ has prepared and reserved for us in his Father’s house.
Sometimes we stay right on the path that leads us home
and sometimes we take short cuts or make detours
or even turn around and walk in the other direction!

We need the Lord to shepherd us from death into life...

So it might be, it might even be likely,
that at the end of our life our rough edges
might need some buffing and polishing.

The Church has long taught that after death,
those not quite ready for heaven
may need some further purification.
This has sometimes been called purgatory.
But we might have a false picture of purgatory.
It’s not some “flaming concentration camp on the outskirts of hell.”*
It’s not God’s last chance to make us suffer!

St. Catherine spoke beautifully of the fire of purgatory
as “God’s love burning the soul until it was wholly aflame
-- with the love of God.”
It’s like the fire mentioned in the book of Wisdom:
“As gold in the furnace, God will prove us, purify us,
and take us to himself… we shall shine…
and we shall abide forever with God in love…”
If there is pain in purgatory,
it is the pain of longing to be with God,
to be worthy of the heaven Jesus won for us.

And so we pray for those who have gone before us
that God bring to completion the good work begun in their lives
while they were still with us.
We cannot know how or even if time is measured in this purification.
Perhaps one day, one hour, one minute on our clocks
of finally and fully realizing the greatness of God’s love for us
and how unloving in return we often were,
perhaps one second will be all it takes to purify us
of the sins of taking God’s love and the love of others for granted.

When we remember those who have died
some of us might recall those who hurt and harmed in this life.
Nothing is impossible for God.
We can pray for these, too, entrusting them to God
who knows how to make even the hardest of hearts
ready for his mercy.

Of course, many of those whom we remember on All Souls Day
were long ago perfected by God’s mercy
and welcomed to their places in heaven
We remember and pray for them, too.

Today, and through this month of November,
we remember those who have gone to their rest
in the hope of rising again and all the departed...

And we remember Jesus, our brother, who died for us and rose
and opened the door to his Father’s house
and prepared for each of us a dwelling place in his peace.



Leondard Foley, OFM

Marianist vocation = relationship with Christ

God has a specific plan for your life. He created you for a specific purpose. Your job is to figure out what exactly it is. The prophet Isaiah writes, "A voice shall sound in your ears: This is the way; walk in it."

But the question is how do you hear His voice and discover His will?

It's all about being in a relationship with Jesus Christ and listening and hearing His voice as He speaks to you.

It is very important that you are in this relationship, that you are a disciple, before you can discover God's will for your life.

St. Martin de Porres

For our Province St. Martin whose feast we celebrated this month plays an important role. Our grade school bears the name of St. Martin de Porres and is the patron. On this day the festivities at the school have been curtailed due to Hurricane Sandy. The memory of St. Martin lives on in so many ways.

Saint Martín de Porres was noted for tireless work on behalf of the poor, establishing an orphanage and a children's hospital. He maintained an austere lifestyle, which included fasting and abstaining from meat. His devotion to prayer was notable even by the pious standards of the age. Among the many miracles attributed to him were those of levitation, bilocation, miraculous knowledge, instantaneous cures and an ability to communicate with animals.

St. Martin de Porres became the patron saint of hairdressers because cutting hair was one of the duties he performed for his Brothers in the friary.

St. Martin de Porres was born at Lima, Peru, in 1579. His father was a Spanish gentleman and his mother a black freed-woman from Panama. At fifteen, he became a lay brother at the Dominican Friary at Lima and spent his whole life there - as a barber, farm laborer, and infirmarian among other things.

Fiat

Mary’s fiat, as it is called (fiat being not a cute little car but Latin for “let it be done”), was a yes to the Unknown. These are the only yeses that really count.

Is the Lord, perhaps, calling you to the religious life?

There are many great and wonderful gifts God has given us in this world. There are the gifts of life, of family, of friends; of our education, of our talents and opportunities. For all these we own immense thanks to the Lord who arranges all things for those who love Him. But there are far greater gifts than these. Among these many and exceedingly wonderful gifts of grace, one stands in a principle place. It is the grace of a vocation.

Just how important is the grace of vocation? The grace of a vocation is one of the gifts God gives us under a special Providence and care for our salvation. This kind of vocation is the vocation we received in baptism. It is the vocation all Catholics have. And to remain faithful to our baptismal vows is at once both the most prudent course and the most glorious.

There is a special grace of vocation, however, which we call a vocation. It is the vocation to the religious life. This kind of vocation is a calling, a stirring one might say of the the soul, to undertake a special state of life which is ordained to the supernatural good of others. Unlike the "vocation" of marriage, the vocation of religious life is essentially supernatural in origin and purpose.

How can a vocation be so important? The grace of a vocation is the source of many graces. It is an occasion for doing many good works, for having more time to pray, to learn about God, to serve Him by love and sacrifice and fidelity. It is the source of graces for ourselves, for God apportions to each of us grace in the measure to our needs. The greater the vocation, the greater the graces. The greater good we can do for the Church, the greater the graces to help and encourage us to do so. And how great indeed is the good that religious do for God and His Church and for each of us.

St. Bernard tells us that religious live more purely, fall more rarely, rise more easily, live more peacefully, are more plentifully endowed with grace, die more securely, and are more abundantly rewarded. A religious vocation is a magnificent grace from God, but it is only the beginning of a long chain of graces they must cooperate with by serving Him with love and fervor. By fidelity to one’s vocation, a religious is able to a degree to change the world — to win the world for Christ, to restore all things in Christ.

May the Father and the Son be glorified in all places through the Immaculate Virgin Mary. Amen.

A New Serenity Prayer

                     St. Joseph's Abbey, Spencer, Mass.

God, grant me the serenity
to accept the people I cannot change,
which is pretty much everyone,
since I’m clearly not you, God.
At least not the last time I checked.

And while you’re at it, God,
please give me the courage
to change what I need to change about myself,
which is frankly a lot, since, once again,
I’m not you, which means I’m not perfect.
It’s better for me to focus on changing myself
than to worry about changing other people,
who, as you’ll no doubt remember me saying,
I can’t change anyway.

Finally, give me the wisdom to just shut up
whenever I think that I’m clearly smarter
than everyone else in the room,
that no one knows what they’re talking about except me,
or that I alone have all the answers.

Basically, God,
grant me the wisdom
to remember that I’m
not you.

Amen

by James Martin S.J.