The Greatest Commandment

St. Anthony Mary Claret was a Spaniard who was ordained in 1835. He tried to join the Carthusian

order but was rejected because of poor health. He then entered the Jesuit novitiate but had to leave when his health broke down again.  While these doors closed, God opened another.  He recovered his health sufficiently to become a missionary and the Archbishop of Cuba.  In time he was called back to the royal court of Spain to be the spiritual director for Queen Isabella II. Regarding this apostolate he wrote: “Living at court and being constantly in the palace is a continuous martyrdom for me.  Every day at prayer I have to make acts of resignation to God’s will.  Day and night and always I have to offer up the sacrifice of staying in Madrid.”

He wrote a book entitled The Golden Key to Heaven in which he reflected upon the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, founder of the Jesuits. The following excerpt from a section entitled “Love for Neighbor” is good preparation for this Sunday’s Gospel (Matthew 22: 34-40) in which Jesus teaches about the greatest commandment.

Composition of Place: Imagine you see Jesus Christ in the company of His Apostles and disciples and saying to them: “Love one another as I have loved you… By this shall all know that you are my disciples, if you have love one for another” (John 13: 34, 35). “As long as you did it to one of these…brethren, you did it to Me” (Matthew 25: 40). …

You should know that God is Love itself; God is Charity.  This virtue is the greatest of virtues.  It is greater than faith and hope.  It is like the sun among the stars, like gold among the metals.  It gives life to all the virtues.  Without it no act has value for reaching Heaven—no, not even the most heroic works. …If one truly loves God, that is proof that there is love for neighbor, and the love one has for his neighbor discloses the love one has for God.  He who says he loves God and does not love his neighbor, does not tell the truth, because it is impossible to love one whom we do not see, who is God, if we do not love one whom we can see, namely, our neighbor. …

Charity is an all-extensive virtue which embraces everyone; fellow-countrymen and foreigner, friends and enemies.  It extends to everyone, embraces all, and does good to all.  Therefore people who limit their love to those of their own area or those of their own nation, to those of their own sentiments, or to their friends or relatives, and are not careful to love the rest—such people do not have true charity.

Christmas: The God Who Comes Close

I presided and preached at my Jesuit community’s Christmas celebration today. The readings were from the Mass During the Day: Isaiah 52: 7-10; Hebrews 1: 1-6; John 1: 1-18.

“How beautiful are the feet of him who brings glad tidings, announcing peace, bearing good news.”  So says Isaiah. He goes on: “They shout for joy for they see directly, before their eyes, the Lord….”  We are filled with joy because we don’t see before our eyes “prophets” through whom “God spoke in partial and various ways,” as the second reading says. We see “directly, before our eyes,” because God has been made manifest, “the Word became flesh.”

In his Midnight Mass Homily of 2008, Pope Benedict spoke about our first experience of God being one of distance. God is so far above and beyond us. But then, referring to a medieval theologian by the name of William of St. Thierry, he said: “God became a child. He made himself dependent and weak, in need of our love. Now—this God who has become a child says to us—you can no longer fear me, you can only love me.” 

This is the good news, the Gospel of Joy!

God became lowly in order to raise us up.  God became human in order to make us divine, as our opening prayer said: “O God, … grant we pray, that we may share in the divinity of Christ, who humbled himself to share in our humanity.”

This is the miracle of the Incarnation: God, “the Word became flesh.”  This is the miracle of Baptism that John writes about in the Gospel.  Through Jesus’ birth, life, death, and resurrection, we have been given the “power to become children of God,” to be “born not by natural generation nor by human choice nor by a man’s decision but of God.”  This is the miracle of the Eucharist. The Son of God became flesh in order to give his flesh for the life of the world. He makes that offering present in every celebration of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass and he unites his flesh to ours in a “Holy Communion.” 

This is “Evangelii Gaudium,” the Gospel of Joy.  As you know, that’s the title of Pope Francis’ Apostolic Exhortation in which I’m told the word “joy” appears in one form or another 110 times.

What is the reason, the source of this joy?

In section #164, speaking about catechesis, Pope Francis writes that on our lips “the first proclamation must ring out over and over.”  What is that proclamation? “Jesus Christ loves you. He gave his life to save you. And now he is living at your side every day to enlighten and free you.” 

In other words, God is close, very close to each of us. This knowledge is “first,” according to Pope Francis, because it is “principal.” It is most important. It is the foundation of our lives. He goes on to say that this proclamation is principal because it is “the one which we must hear again and again in different ways, the one which we must announce one way or another….”

All are called to hold fast to this proclamation and to announce it.  But, quoting from Pope John Paul II’s Apostolic Exhortation about priests, Pastores Dabo Vobis, Pope Francis writes: “For this reason too, ‘the priest—like every other member of the Church—ought to grow in awareness that he himself is continually in need of being evangelized.’”  We priests need the Gospel of Joy, a deeper awareness that Jesus Christ loves us, gave his life for us, and is now living at our side every day.

As Jesuits we’ve been given a gift that helps us go deeper in this awareness. Through the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, we don’t just think about how God has come close to us. We, as it were, “see directly.” Through the imagination and bringing the senses into our prayer, we experience the birth of Jesus. In this way the familiar stories and the high theology of the first chapter of John, do not remain here, in our heads, but enter our hearts where they can transform us. 

A Link to the Sacred Heart

Have you heard of the new site called “O Most Sacred Heart of Jesus”?  Each First Friday of the month, a day traditionally dedicated to the Sacred Heart, Catholic writers will post something on their blogs about the Sacred Heart and then link them up to that site.  The founders of the site, Ryan and Laura, are from the U.S. and Australia respectively and they will help prime the pump each month with a question. This month’s is: “How did you first learn about the Sacred Heart?”

I’m often asked about my family’s devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.  People assume that since I’m now involved in a ministry—the Apostleship of Prayer—that promotes this devotion, the seeds of it must have been planted early on. They weren’t. At least, not in an explicit way.

I grew up in what I would call a traditional Polish-American family, the grandson of immigrants. We did not have a picture of the Sacred Heart in our home, nor did we practice family consecration or enthronement of the Sacred Heart.  But my family’s practice of Catholicism was more, I think, a matter of the heart than the head.  Our weekend family life revolved around going to Mass and every month we went to our church on Saturday for confession. There were crucifixes in the rooms of our home and one in particular fascinated me. It was a cross with the instruments of the Passion—a ladder, a spear, and a pole with a sponge attached—all enclosed in a glass cylinder. In my family we had the custom of taking leave of one another in a religious way.  To those leaving our home we would say, “Go with God.”  The reply was “Stay with God.”

So when I entered the Jesuits in 1971 at the age of 19 I was ready to hear about devotion to the Sacred Heart from a religious order that has been traditionally associated with it. But I didn’t.  Again, the Lord worked in a quiet and hidden way to draw me to His Heart. Making the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius drew me into a more intimate relationship with Jesus. The Exercises helped me to not just use my head to think about Jesus but to use my heart to contemplate the Gospel stories in a way in which I came to know Jesus in a deeper way. 

In time, all of this—my family experience and my prayer life as a Jesuit—led me to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.  I was ordained in 1983 on a Friday in June which happened to be the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart.  No accident.  No coincidence.  I’m convinced that the Lord wanted me to be an apostle of His Heart and I was ordained to do so on His feast.  Now, through the Apostleship of Prayer, I’m committed to helping others enter more deeply into the Heart of Jesus where they will experience the depths of His love.  

Cor Unum

I'm at my old "stomping grounds," the Jesuit Retreat House in Lake Elmo, Minnesota, located on Lake Demontreville and often referred to by that name. I gave my first retreat here in 1986 and was part of the staff from 2000-2003. Sixty-nine men from around the Twin Cities and as far away as Kansas and California are on retreat with me.

I've given several retreats this summer but have not been able to write about them because I didn't have the necessary computer access. Last week I was at Conception Abbey in the northwest corner of Missouri where I gave a retreat to members of Cor Unum. Though founded in France in 1790, the groups that comprise "Cor Unum" (One Heart), are secular institutes, a relatively new phenomenon in the Church. After Opus Dei, they were the second such canonically recognized group.

The year of their foundation was a difficult time for the Church in France. It was a time of revolution and suppression. The Society of Jesus or Jesuits had already been suppressed but one of their members, Fr. Joseph de Cloriviere, continued to function as a priest and imagined a new form of consecrated life. In a letter dated 1810, he wrote: "I conceived it would be the setting up of a sort of universal Religious Society that would be open to any kind of people, or any age, country or condition, being capable of the evangelical perfection. They would not separate their members from the ordinary faithful people...." This "Society" had shaky beginnings and was re-founded in 1918 by Fr. Daniel Fontaine, another French priest.

Today this group can be found around the world and calls itself "Cor Unum" or "The Family of the Heart of Jesus." A brochure describes them as follows: "The Family of the Heart of Jesus is comprised of three secular institutes (one for clerics, one for celibate laymen, and one for celibate laywomen) and an association of the faithful for married persons and others who wish to belong to the Family without taking vows. The secular institutes are a special structure within the Roman Catholic Church, a form of 'consecrated life,' designed to enable single lay people and diocesan priests to live and work in the secular world while consecrating themselves more fully to the Lord. However, members to do not live in communities (necessarily), and do not wear anything distinctive." The group shares a common spirituality of devotion to the Sacred Heart and of St. Ignatius Loyola. Before its members pronounce their permanent vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, they make the full thirty day Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius.

On the retreat I gave there were diocesan priests, single lay men and women, and a married couple who had come together from both coasts and places in between. At the end of the retreat, two women pronounced their permanent vows in the Institute of the Heart of Jesus. As always, giving a retreat like this was a blessing for me and another opportunity to learn more about the wonderfully diverse Catholic Church.

Pope Francis and St. Therese

Fr. Bernard McGuckian, S.J., the Apostleship of Prayer director for Ireland, has been visiting me for the past few weeks.  In the course of various conversations he said that for the first time in his 76 years he can say that he understands the particular spirituality of the pope. The reason is that Pope Francis was formed in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius as was Fr. McGuckian and every other Jesuit, including myself.  Now, as I read various homilies and talks of Pope Francis, I look for threads of the Spiritual Exercises.

Recently, another friend of mine, Maureen O'Riordan who has a marvelous website about St. Therese of Lisieux, blogged about the connection between Pope Francis and this saint who is the second patron of the Apostleship of Prayer.  When he was a cardinal visiting Rome, Pope Francis was in the habit of going to a Franciscan church where he would stop at a statue of St. Therese and pray.  You can read the rest of the story here.

As time goes by and we approach the month of the Sacred Heart I'll be eager to learn more about Pope Francis' devotion to the Heart of Jesus and his involvement with the Apostleship of Prayer which is an apostolate of the Jesuits in Argentina and throughout the world.  

"Profess Christ Crucified"

I am the sacristan in my community of 50 or so Jesuits at Marquette University. That means I am busy these days preparing the chapel for the various celebrations. Today I also presided at our community's Good Friday Service.  Since the proclamation of the Passion is long and really speaks for itself, I kept my homily brief and ended it by quoting Pope Francis.

At the beginning of the Second Week of the Spiritual Exercises, St. Ignatius has us imagine the Three Persons of the Most Holy Trinity looking out over the world and at suffering humanity lost in sin.  How will this beloved creature made in God's own image and likeness, made for union with God, be saved?  St. Ignatius has us imagine the Incarnation of the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity and his birth in Bethlehem. The Son chose to humble and empty himself, becoming a man, sharing our life and our death. Throughout the Exercises of the Second Week, we are called to be close to Jesus, to follow him, and to labor with him for the salvation of humanity.

Baptism joins us to Christ and makes us one with him in this work. The evangelical counsels of consecrated persons configure them more closely to Christ poor, chaste, and obedient; to Christ humble, self-emptying, and sacrificing.  The motivation for this is love--the love of the Blessed Trinity which did not abandon humanity in its sin, the love revealed on a cross. We are called on this day in a special way to share the love of God for suffering humanity.

In our Good Friday Service we venerate the cross. But before doing so, we look out on the world from that cross. We see the world with Christ's eyes. We love lost and suffering humanity with Christ's Heart.  We pray for all people, bringing them with us to the cross where Christ died for us all.  A Church council in the year 853, which is quoted in the Catechism of the Catholic Church #606, stated: "There is not, never has been, and never will be a single human being for whom Christ did not suffer." He suffered and died and save all, no one excluded.

Then, after the veneration of the cross, we receive Holy Communion. We are joined with Christ so that we carry in our bodies his death and resurrection. United to Christ, we carry the cross, the sign of God's love for all, the sign of the lengths to which God goes to save us. Not all people know this, nor have all accepted it.  We carry the cross to them when we love them and lay down our lives for them so that they may accept the salvation Christ won for them and be saved.

In the closing words of his homily at the Mass he celebrated with the cardinals who had just elected him, Pope Francis said:

"When we journey without the Cross, when we build without the Cross, when we profess Christ without the Cross, we are not disciples of the Lord, we are worldly: we may be bishops, priests, cardinals, popes, but not disciples of the Lord.

"My wish is that all of us, after these days of grace, will have the courage, yes, the courage, to walk in the presence of the Lord, with the Lord’s Cross; to build the Church on the Lord’s blood which was poured out on the Cross; and to profess the one glory: Christ crucified. And in this way, the Church will go forward.

"My prayer for all of us is that the Holy Spirit, through the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary, our Mother, will grant us this grace: to walk, to build, to profess Jesus Christ crucified. Amen."

Desolation and Discernment

Last Sunday I was at Bellarmine Jesuit Retreat House in Barrington, IL and I had the opportunity to preach. The first reading from the seventh chapter of Job made me think about St. Ignatius' Rules for the Discernment of Spirits and his advice about what to do during a time of desolation.

Job says: "Is not man's life on earth a drudgery? ... I have been assigned months of misery, and troubled nights are allotted to me. If in bed I say, 'When shall I arise?' then the night drags on; I am filled with restlessness until the dawn. My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle; they come to an end without hope. Remember that my life is like the wind; I shall not see happiness again."

Now here's how St. Ignatius describes spiritual desolation: "I call desolation ... darkness of soul, turmoil of spirit, inclination to what is low and earthly, restlessness rising from many disturbances and temptations which lead to want of faith, want of hope, want of love. The soul is wholly slothful, tepid, sad, and separated, as it were, from its Creator and Lord." Doesn't that sound like what Job was going through?

Then St. Ignatius gives very practical advice on how to deal with desolation.

First, he says that "in time of desolation we should never make any change, but remain firm and constant in the resolution and decision which guided us the day before the desolation, or in the decision we adhered in the preceding consolation." When we experience desolation our temptation is to change course or to do everything we can to escape from it. The problem is that it is the evil spirit which is behind the desolation and not the Holy Spirit. Thus, as Fr. Thomas Green, S.J., once said, if you want the evil spirit as your spiritual director then listen to the thoughts that arise during desolation.

The second piece of advice is a bit of a caveat. Though we are not to make a significant change in our decisions, we can make some changes in our prayer. Thus, Ignatius writes: "Though in desolation we must never change our former resolutions, it will be very advantageous to intensify our activity against the desolation. We can insist more upon prayer, upon meditation, and on much examination of ourselves." This is because desolation tempts us to give up on prayer. We fight the temptation by going in its opposite direction.

Then St. Ignatius says that desolation is an opportunity to grow in humility. During times of consolation a person can become puffed up, thinking that one is really close to God and quite the holy person. Desolation reminds us that without God's grace, we are nothing. Ignatius writes: "When one is in desolation, he should be mindful that God has left him to his natural powers to resist the different agitations and temptations of the enemy in order to try him. He can resist with the help of God, which always remains, though he may not clearly perceive it. For though God has taken from him the abundance of fervor and overflowing love and the intensity of His favors, nevertheless, he has sufficient grace for eternal salvation."

Trials and temptations are opportunities to grow in particular virtues which are like spiritual muscles that develop through exercise. In desolation one is tempted to despair and give up hope; the opportunity is to exercise hope by making acts of hope and faith. Desolation is also an opportunity to exercise patience. St. Ignatius writes; "When one is in desolation, he should strive to persevere in patience. This reacts against the vexations that have overtaken him."

Finally, St. Ignatius gives advice that is also a slogan in Alcoholics Anonymous and other 12 Step Recovery Programs: This too shall pass. As he puts it: "Let him consider, too, that consolation will soon return, and in the meantime, he must diligently use the means" that are given above--prayer, meditation, and self-examination.

Desolation is never any fun and does not come from Holy Spirit, but God allows it and can even use it to help us grow in prayer and the virtues.

More Magis Reflections

Here are the last three of the daily reflections that I wrote for the Magis Center for Catholic Spirituality.

Thursday, December 15, 2011

We are made for union with God. We are made for a spousal relationship with God. In the Song of Songs and the Prophets of the Old Testament, we find this truth in vivid terms like the following verse from Isaiah 54: 5: “For he who has become your husband is your Maker; his name is the Lord of hosts….”

This goal of human existence begins to find its realization in the Eucharist. It is there that the union between each individual and the Lord is most closely attained on this side of eternity. There the Church is formed. St. Paul, writing to the Ephesians, taught about marriage by quoting from the book of Genesis: “For this reason a man shall leave father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.” Then Paul goes on to say, “This is a great mystery, but I speak in reference to Christ and the church” (5: 31-32). Marriage is sacred because it reveals something of the intimate union that Christ has with the Church and with each of her members. It is a union that transforms. As Pope Benedict said in his final homily at World Youth Day 2005: “The Body and Blood of Christ are given to us so that we ourselves will be transformed in our turn. We are to become the Body of Christ, his own Flesh and Blood.” The two—Christ and each one who receives him in the Eucharist—become one flesh.

This is another way of viewing the “First Principle and Foundation” in the Spiritual Exercises and it is what answers a question that arises from today’s Gospel (Luke 7: 24-30): how can it be that “the least in the Kingdom of God is greater than” John the Baptist? John, the great Forerunner and Martyr-Witness to the Messiah, did not have the privilege of the union that we have every time we receive the Body and Blood of Christ. Can we ever be sufficiently grateful for this privilege?

Friday, December 16, 2011

Jesus called John the Baptist “a burning and shining lamp” (John 5:35). The Lord calls you to be like John, to be a lamp that “shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father” (Matthew 5: 16).

You are called to burn with the love of the Sacred Heart which Jesus revealed to St. Margaret Mary, saying: “My divine Heart is so passionately fond of the human race, and of you in particular, that it cannot keep back the pent-up flames of its burning charity any longer. They must burst out through you.” To be on fire with the burning love of God requires you to draw near to the Heart of Jesus. It means being a “burning” lamp that is fed by the oil of the Holy Spirit who prays with you and within you. It means especially becoming one with the Sacred Heart that is given to you in the Eucharist.

You are also called to shine. Jesus called himself “the Light of the world” (John 8:12) and as he unites himself to you he calls you to be light as well (Matthew 5: 14). The light of a “shining lamp” is very humble. You don’t light a lamp and then stare at it. A lamp is lit not to draw attention to itself but to help people find their way. So it is with you. You are to be the light of the world in order to show people the way to the final destination for which God created the human race—heaven.

According to St. Ignatius, the goal of his Spiritual Exercises, and indeed the goal of all prayer, is to help us seek and find “the will of God in the disposition of our life for the salvation of our soul” (#1). It is God’s will that you be one with him forever in the Kingdom of Heaven. Through prayer you are united one day at time with this loving will of God that fills you with warmth and light, that makes you “a burning and shining lamp” that will guide others to the Lord just as St. John the Baptist did.

Saturday, December 17, 2011

We begin today the final days of preparation for Christmas with the “O Antiphons” (found in antiphon for Mary’s Magnificat at Vespers and in the Alleluia verse at Mass). We also have the Genealogy of Jesus according the Matthew. Besides giving us the human origins of the Messiah, it reminds us of the Providence of God which, in St. Paul’s words, can “make all things work for good for those who love God” (Romans 8: 28).

The Genealogy does not paint a pretty picture. It includes a number of kings who led Israel away from God to the worship of idols. It also includes the names of four women, an unusual addition in the genealogies of the time. The childless and widowed Tamar disguised herself as a prostitute in order to have intercourse with her father-in-law Judah. Rahab was a prostitute. Ruth was a foreigner. And Bathesheba was the unfortunate recipient of King David’s attention, leading to his committing adultery with her and orchestrating her husband’s death.

The Genealogy or Family Tree of Jesus included sinners in need of mercy and healing. This shouldn’t be surprising since it was to save sinners that Jesus took flesh and came into the world. Or, as St. Ignatius puts it in his contemplation on the incarnation, the “Three Divine Persons look down upon the whole expanse or circuit of all the earth, filled with human beings. Since They see that all are going down to hell, They decree in Their eternity that the Second Person should become man to save the human race” (#102).

In this final of Advent, imagine the Blessed Trinity looking out over the world. Out of love for lost humanity, God sent the Son to live and die and rise for your salvation. He wants you to be filled with “an intimate knowledge” of His love so that you may “love Him more and follow Him more closely” (#105) and in this way to continue the work of salvation.

Magis Reflections

Here are some more reflections, for today and tomorrow, that I did for the Magis Center for Catholic Spirituality. While I was able to put in a word for St. Lucy today, I regret that I didn't say anything about one of my favorite Carmelite saints, St. John of the Cross, whom we celebrate tomorrow.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Several years ago a radio station took a survey and asked listeners to call and answer the question: “Is love a feeling or a decision?” Almost 90% called to say that love is a feeling.

St. Ignatius would say that love is more than a feeling and it’s more than a decision. The second son in today’s Gospel (Matthew 21: 28-32) decided to work in his father’s vineyard and said he would do so, but didn’t actually go. The first son decided not to go and said so but in the end changed his mind and went. Who fulfilled the will of the father? Clearly the first son. Who, can it be said, loved the father more? While both would perhaps declare their love for the father it was the first son who proved that love by his deeds. As St. Ignatius wrote in the Spiritual Exercises, at the beginning of the “Contemplation to Attain the Love of God”: “love ought to manifest itself in deeds rather than in words.”

This is the way God, whom St. John wrote is Love (see 1 John 4: 8 and 16), operates. God, as St. Paul wrote, “proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us” (Romans 5: 8). The Son of God took flesh and offered his flesh on the cross for the salvation of the world. The Light of the world entered into its darkness and calls each of us to be one with him, sharing in the light and being light for the world (see Matthew 5: 14-16).

Today we honor a virgin-martyr of the early Church, St. Lucy, whose very name means Light. Like Lucy we must be lights for our world of darkness, but we are only able to be such in so far as we grow in union with the Light, in so far as we love God and our neighbor in deed and not just in words or feelings.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

The disciples of John the Baptist approached Jesus and asked him, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?” In other words, “Who are you?” Jesus answered by telling them to report what they had “seen and heard,” what they had experienced. What about you? How do you answer the question, “Who is Jesus?” Do you rely on what others have said or taught, or can you report what you have “seen and heard” of Jesus in your own experience? This is the goal of Ignatian contemplation: to not just think about Jesus as you read the Gospel stories but to meet and experience him there. Imagining the Gospel scenes and putting yourself into the scene, conversing with the various figures, can help you to know the Lord in a deeper way so that you can answer the question “Who is Jesus?” from personal experience rather than from what others have said.

Pope Benedict made a similar distinction in his Wednesday Audience of October 8, 2008. He said:

Only with the heart does one truly know a person. Indeed, the Pharisees and the Sadducees were externally acquainted with Jesus, they learned his teaching and knew many details about him but they did not know him in his truth. … On the other hand, the Twelve, thanks to the friendship that calls the heart into question, have at least understood in substance and begun to discover who Jesus is. This different manner of knowing still exists today: there are learned people who know many details about Jesus and simple people who have no knowledge of these details but have known him in his truth: "Heart speaks to heart".

Old St. Joseph's Church

I've been having a busy Advent. On the First Sunday of Advent I was still in Rome for the meeting of the International Advisory Council of the Apostleship of Prayer. Last weekend I was in Alhambra, California at Sacred Heart Retreat House for their annual Advent Retreat. And this weekend I'm preaching at all the Masses at Old St. Joseph's Church in Philadelphia. I'm here to lead a parish mission which begins this evening.

Today, at 5 P.M., we'll celebrate Vespers for this Gaudete Sunday. My talk is entitled "Heart Calls to Heart: Deepening Our Personal Relationship with Jesus." Tomorrow evening at 7:15, in the context of an Advent Reconciliation Service, I'll talk about "Meeting the Merciful Heart of Jesus." On Tuesday we will close the mission with Exposition and Benediction and a talk entitled "Take, Lord, Receive: Living a Eucharistic Life."

Old St. Joseph's Church is the Jesuit church in Philadelphia and its oldest Catholic church. It was built in an alleyway at a time in U.S. history when most of the original 13 colonies did not allow Catholics to practice their faith.

Periodically the Magis Center for Catholic Spirituality asks me to write a daily reflection for their subscribers. Below I've included my brief reflections for today and tomorrow.

Sunday, December 11, 2011

“Pray without ceasing.” Thus wrote St. Paul and over the centuries people have tried to figure out how to do this. For some, primarily in the Eastern Churches, it has meant praying “The Jesus Prayer”: “Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” Or simply, “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me,” uniting each phrase with one’s breath.

The Apostleship of Prayer encourages another approach—the Morning Offering. Here’s how the great Jesuit Fr. Walter Ciszek, whose cause for beatification has been opened, described this prayer in the account of his imprisonment in the Soviet Gulag and exile, He Leadeth Me:

In my opinion the Morning Offering is still one of the best practices of prayer—no matter how old-fashioned some may think it. For in it, at the beginning of each day, we accept from God and offer back to him all the prayers, works, and sufferings of the day, and so serve to remind ourselves once again of his providence and his kingdom. If we could only remember to spend the day in his presence, in doing his will, what a difference it would make in our own lives and the lives of those around us! We cannot pray always, in the sense of those contemplatives who have dedicated their whole lives to prayer and penance. Nor can we go around abstracted all day, thinking only of God and ignoring our duties to those around us, to family and friends and to those for whom we are responsible. But we can pray always by making each action and work and suffering of the day a prayer insofar as it has been offered and promised to God.

The Morning Offering, combined with an Examen or Evening Review of the day we have offered, can help us to seek and find God in all things, in all the people and events of our daily lives. In this way we better able to “pray without ceasing.”

Monday, December 12, 2011

Viva la Virgen de Guadalupe! Viva! Today we honor our Blessed Mother under her title “Our Lady of Guadalupe” and we remember how in December, 1531 she appeared to a humble Indian, St. Juan Diego, and gave him a miraculous image of herself as proof for the bishop of her appearance. The image, on material that should have disintegrated long ago, can be seen today in Mexico City.

When she appeared to Juan, she affectionately called him “Juanito” or “Johnny,” and said:

Know for certain, smallest of my children, that I am the perfect and perpetual Virgin Mary, Mother of the True God through whom everything lives, the Lord of all things near and far, the Master of heaven and earth. I am your merciful Mother, the merciful mother of all of you who live united in this land, and of all humanity, of all those who love me. Hear and let it penetrate your heart, my dear little one. Let nothing discourage you, nothing depress you. Let nothing alter your heart, or your face. Am I not here who am your mother? Are you not under my shadow and protection? Am I not your fountain of life? Are you not in the folds of my mantle? In the crossing of my arms? Is there anything else that you need? Do not fear any illness or vexation, anxiety or pain.

St. Ignatius had a deep love for the Blessed Virgin Mary and he often turned to her when he needed special help. He recommends the same to us during key meditations in the Spiritual Exercises. As Jesus could not refuse his mother’s request at Cana (see John 2: 1-11), so, St. Ignatius was convinced, that if we go to Jesus with his mother and then with Jesus and Mary to the Father, we will receive what we need.

Good Friday

I will be leading my Jesuit community's "Celebration of the Lord's Passion" this afternoon. I can't help approaching this time of prayer from the perspective that St. Ignatius gives in his Spiritual Exercises. He invites us to not simply read the Gospel stories, to not just observe the scenes from the outside, but to enter into the story, to put ourselves in the Gospel scenes. We do that during the reading of the Passion when we prayerfully take on the roles of various characters and the crowd. But St. Ignatius would have us go even deeper. He would have us enter into the interior of Jesus and to experience what he thought and felt. We find this in the "Third Prelude" to the various Exercises in what is known as the "Third Week":

This is to ask for what I desire. In the Passion it is proper to ask for sorrow with Christ in sorrow, anguish with Christ in anguish, tears and deep grief because of the great affliction Christ endures for me.

With these words, St. Ignatius invites us to enter into the Heart of Jesus. We are to share his "sorrow" and his "anguish." We cannot experience his physical sufferings, but we can share his interior sufferings. We may even try to imagine what Jesus thought and felt as he looked out at the world from the cross. Imagine yourself there, one of the curious bystanders looking on to see this spectacle of blood and death. You are there in the crowd, but in a flash Jesus looks right at you. He catches your eye. You want to look away, but you are drawn to stay with the eyes that have caught your eyes. What do you see in those eyes?

Looking into the eyes of Jesus on the cross we see not condemnation but love, a deep personal love. Notice how the "Third Prelude" invites us to not only enter into the interior sufferings of Jesus but also to realize that he endured all this "for me." His suffering and death are very personal. If I were the only human person who ever lived, he would have done this "for me." He loves me with an infinite love. Our own experience of love is limited, for we humans cannot love with an infinite love. A deep and intimate love for one person naturally tends to be exclusive. Such love means there is less love for another, though parents will say that they love each of their children with an equal and total love.

St. Francis de Sales uses a striking image of God's infinite love. He says that the sun's light and warmth come to one flower and this doesn't mean that there is less light and warmth for the other flowers. If this is true for the sun, how much more true is it for the Creator of the sun and his love? Yet even this physical analogy of the sun pales in comparison to God's love. Clouds block the sun which sets at night, leaving the flowers in darkness. Not so God's love which is always there. Even sin, which separates us from God, doesn't extinguish the love of the Son on the cross. Remember, as St. Paul pointed out so clearly, "God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us" (Romans 5: 8).

The love of Jesus is personal but it is also universal. The Catechsim of the Catholic Church, quoting the Council of Quiercy in the year 853, states: "There is not, never has been, and never will be a single human being for whom Christ did not suffer" (#605). It is this universal love that leads us, in the "Celebration of the Lord's Passion," to offer a long set of "General Intercessions." In them we pray for the entire Church, for the pope, for the clergy and laity of the Church, for those preparing for baptism, for the unity of Christians, for the Jewish people, for those who do not believe in Christ, for those who do not believe in God, for all those in public office, and for all those in special need.

Perhaps, as we offer these long prayers, we could do so with the love of Jesus. Looking into his eyes on the cross, we see his love for us--a personal and individual love. We also see that this deep love is for everyone. As we pray for the various groups, let us look upon them with the eyes of Jesus. Let us see them as Jesus saw them from the cross. Let us pray for them with the love of Jesus in our hearts: a love that desires everyone to know his love, accept it, and be saved; a love that proves itself by dying even for those who have rejected it.

Hearts on Fire in South Bend

Last Friday night and Saturday morning I joined Fr. Phil Hurley, the Apostleship of Prayer's youth and young adult director, and three other Jesuits (aka the Jesuit Mission Band which included Michael Rossman and Joseph Simmons, both Jesuit scholastics or seminarians studying at Loyola in Chicago, and Fr. Brian Dunkle, a doctoral student at Notre Dame) for a "Hearts on Fire" event at the Sacred Heart Pastoral Center next to Notre Dame in South Bend, Indiana. These events for young adults began last summer and we have been able to continue them during the school year at Central Michigan University in Mt. Pleasant, Michigan and at Fordham University in the Bronx, New York). Next summer Fr. Phil and the Jesuit Mission Band will go to five East Coast Cities before going to World Youth Day where they will team up with the Knights of Columbus, the Sisters of Life, and several other groups at a site called the "Love and Life Center." A recent issue of the Knights of Columbus magazine Columbia had an article about all this. The Jesuit Mission Band will be giving presentations there throughout World Youth Day.

The South Bend event was my first experience of the "Hearts on Fire" retreat which includes talks, prayer, music, and a coffee house setting for socializing on Friday night. I was very impressed with how the retreat combined, in such a short time, key elements of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius and the offering and heart-centered spirituality of the Apostleship of Prayer. Over 60 young adults came to the South Bend event and it was a blessing for me to be with them for part of their retreat.

Spiritual Exercises Blog

The Apostleship of Prayer began in a Jesuit seminary in France in 1844. The spirituality of making a daily offering comes right out of the "Spiritual Exercises" of St. Ignatius, the founder of the Jesuits. In his final "exercise," he invites the one making the "Spiritual Exercises" to respond to God's tremendous love by making a total offering of him or herself. The daily offering that we promote in the Apostleship of Prayer is a way that one can renew this total offering one day at a time.

As Apostles of Prayer, however, we try to focus not only on the daily offering and our prayer for the Pope's two monthly intentions. Jesus told the first Apostles at the Last Supper: "I no longer call you slaves,... I have called you friends..." (John 15: 15). to be an Apostle is to be a friend of Jesus.

Lent, with its greater emphasis on prayer along with fasting and alms-giving, is an opportunity to set aside some quality time for our friend. The "Spiritual Exercises" can help us go deeper in our relationship with Jesus. For the second year in a row, a group of young Jesuits is putting together a blog to help people make the "Spiritual Exercises" during Lent. I invite you to make the "Spiritual Exercises Blog" a part of your Lent.

Can We Have Fun?

Every month I'm a guest on Relevant Radio's daily call-in spiritual direction show "The Inner Life," hosted by Chuck Neff. Last week the producer wrote me about the topic for today's show and wondered if I wanted to talk about Lent. My first reaction was "No! We're going to have 40 days of Lent. No need to start it early." Instead, I thought it would be good to talk about Mardi Gras or Fat Tuesday or, as it's often called in the Polish community of Milwaukee, Paczki Day. Is it OK for Christians to have fun?

Of course! Jesus had fun. Unfortunately much of our religious art makes Jesus look as though he never cracked a smile and never laughed. He appears very somber and even scarey. But this can't be the way Jesus really was. No one would want to go near Him. Certainly not the children. Yet Jesus attracted droves of people to Himself. So Jesus must have smiled, laughed, had a good time, and genuinely enjoyed life. He even described heaven in terms of a big party or wedding feast and when He participated in a feast where the wine had run out, He made more.

But what about "Fat Tuesday" and all the excesses we see? The tradition of over-indulging seems to have arisen from the logic that since we're going to have to fast and pray and go to confession, now's the time to party. This isn't really the best way to enter into Lent.

While Lent is a more somber and subdued time, a time when we see the color violet at Mass and don't sing "Alleluia" or "The Gloria," it's supposed to be a happy season. The Preface for Lent I which precedes the Eucharistic Prayer at Mass addresses the Father and says, "Each year you give us this joyful season when we prepare to celebrate the paschal mystery with mind and heart renewed." The Preface for Lent II has: "This great season of grace is your gift to your family to renew us in spirit." Do you think of Lent as a "joyful season," a "gift"? How can fasting and penance and sacrifice be joyful?

Our fasting with its accompanying hunger reminds us of our hunger for God. It's a way that we pray with our bodies as well as our minds. It shouldn't make us irritable and grumpy. If it does, then it would be better for us not to fast, for spiritual exercises that don't lead to greater charity are useless. As St. Paul wrote in his famous chapter on love, 1 Corinthians 13, without love we are nothing. Without charity our knowledge and faith and even our martyrdom, should we be so called, are nothing.

True fasting and prayer should make us more aware that nothing on earth can ultimately satisfy us. We're made for union with God and while the things of earth may take away the hunger pains for a while, they ultimately don't satisfy. Our physical hunger should remind us of our spiritual hunger. We are, as St. Augustine famously wrote, made for God and so our hearts are restless until they rest in Him.

It all comes down to balance. Christians, following Jesus' example, enjoy life and its legitimate pleasures. Sin may make us feel good for a while but ultimately it's a poison that destroys us and others. It's OK to have fun today, to eat those wonderful Polish fruit-filled doughnuts known as Paczki. Have fun and give glory to God. Follow St. Paul's example, eating and drinking and giving glory to God who wants to be a part of every moment of your life. But don't go overboard for that will only lead to unhappiness.

St. Ignatius of Loyola counsels in a similar vein in the First Principle and Foundation of his "Spiritual Exercises." All earthly things and pleasures are given to us to help us attain the end for which we were created--the praise, reverence, and service of God--our salvation, our union with God who alone fills the restless heart. Thus we should use the good things of the earth in so far as they help us attain our end and we should reject them in so far as they get in the way of our attaining our end. This is real balance. Lent is a time to grow in this balance and that growth is what makes it a "gift" and a "joyful season."

St. Ignatius' First Mass

On Christmas Day, 472 years ago, St. Ignatius Loyola celebrated his first Mass. He had been ordained 18 months earlier, on the feast of the Birth of St. John the Baptist, June 24, 1537. He had been hoping to celebrate his first Mass in the land where the Son of God took flesh and was born, but because of the threat of Turkish pirates no ships would sail from Italy to the Holy Land. He settled for the next best place--the Basilica of St. Mary Major in Rome. This church, one of the major basilicas of Rome, was the first Roman church built in honor of the Mother of God. In it was a chapel dedicated to the Nativity and relics from the manger where Jesus was laid after His birth. If he couldn't celebrate his first Mass in Bethlehem, he would celebrate it there, on Christmas Day.

Christmas is a Eucharistic feast. The Second Person of the Blessed Trinity took flesh and was born in order to give His flesh for the life of the world. The Bread of Life was born in a town named Bethlehem, a name which means "House of Bread." His mother placed Him, who would one day say, "my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink" (John 6: 55), in a manger, a feeding trough.

After (and probably during) that first Mass and throughout his ordained life, St. Ignatius cried during Mass. Such tears are a sign of spiritual consolation which St. Ignatius describes in his "Spiritual Exercises" as "when some interior motion is caused within the soul through which it comes to be inflamed with love of its Creator and Lord.... Similarly, this consolation is experienced when the soul sheds tears which move it to love for its Lord..." (#316). His early Jesuit companions testified that St. Ignatius felt cool and without consolation if he did not shed tears three times during Mass. It got so "bad" that "his doctor forbade him to surrender to tears because it was destroying his eyesight and his overall health. As was his wont, he obeyed his doctors and received even more consolation, albeit without tears" (Harvey Egan, S.J., "Ignatius Loyola the Mystic," page 190).

If we pause and reflect, it will be clear that today, Christmas, is a day of consolation. How much Jesus loved us by becoming incarnate, being born, living our human life with its joys and sorrows, and even sharing in our death so that we who die might share in His resurrection. How much Jesus loves us by giving Himself to us in the Eucharist. If we really thought and prayed about this we would have what Pope John Paul II hoped for the entire Church in his Encyclical on the Eucharist--"amazement." It's an amazement that could even bring us to tears.

Retreating or Progressing?

I'm back from my annual eight day retreat and in reporting on it I can't help thinking about the word "retreat." It often carries negative connotations. Armies retreat when they are losing the battle. Going on a spiritual retreat, however, is just the opposite. I'd like to think of it as a way to make progress, to grow, or to move forward. Just the opposite of retreating. And this was certainly my experience of retreat this year.

God was very good to me, but that shouldn't be a surprise. God is always good and, when given the opportunity for quality time with us, He responds generously. My retreat was very blessed and I'll probably need a while to reflect upon all its graces.

First of all, because I was away from the city, my work schedule, and my alarm clock, I was blessed with great sleep. I must have needed it because it seems I'd go to bed around 10 PM and wake up around 7 AM every day. Secondly, I was able to take a walk after lunch every day and the meals I made for myself were pretty healthy. Since our praying spirits are enfleshed in bodies, these things--rest, exercise in fresh air, good food in moderation--contribute to helping one make a good retreat.

I followed what turned out to be a good schedule for prayer, with Mass at noon and holy hours at 9 AM, 11 AM, 4 PM, and 6 PM. In between I prayed the Breviary, cleaned the little house where I stayed, brushed snow off the car and shoveled a bit, did some other reading (back issues of "One," the magazine of the Catholic Near East Welfare Association), or prayed a Rosary and the Chaplet of Divine Mercy. Besides the Bible and the "Spiritual Exercises" of St. Ignatius, I used two other books that I highly recommend: 1) Fr. Michael E. Gaitley's "Consoling the Heart of Jesus: A Do-It-Yourself Retreat Inspired by the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius," and 2) Fr. Thomas D. Williams' "A Heart Like His: Meditations on the Sacred Heart of Jesus."

After my 7 PM supper I watched videos. Don't be scandalized. Here is a listing of the videos I saw: "The Island" (a Russian film about a monk who struggles with the memory a murder he thought he committed when he was a soldier in World War II); "The Pope: Life and Times of John Paul II"; "Sanctity Within Reach: Pier Giorgio Frassati" (an EWTN show about this beatified member of the Apostleship of Prayer); "Saint Therese of the Child Jesus: An Echo of the Heart of God" (a film that was created in 1997 in honor of the centenary of her death); "Clear Creek Abby: Living the Liturgy" (a promotion DVD from Benedictine monks in Oklahoma); "With God in Russia: The Story of Fr. Walter Ciszek"; "Solanus Casey: Priest, Porter, Prophet"; and "Servant of All: Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen".

I find following the stories of saintly people a good way to relax during retreat and so, in addition to those movies, at night before going to bed I began reading a book about a Jesuit who had been the director of the Apostleship of Prayer in Ireland. The book was published three years after his death in 1921 and it's called "Life and Work of Rev. James Aloysius Cullen, S.J." Fr. Mark Kirby, a friend and fellow blogger (Vultus Christi) loaned it to me last summer when I visited him in Tulsa.

It was a great retreat but I have to admit that for the last two days back in the office I've found a lot of work to "offer up."

The Magis Institute

I stayed an extra day in southern California after my recent retreat there. No. It wasn't just to avoid the cold and gray Wisconsin November in order to bask in the warmth and sun. I went to visit a Jesuit friend, Fr. Robert Spitzer, former president of Gonzaga University in Spokane, WA and currently running the Magis Institute located in Irvine, CA.

It was an amazing visit. Fr. Spitzer's latest book is already in its fourth printing. It's entitled "New Proofs for the Existence of God: Contributions of Contemporary Physics and Philosophy." As a result of this book and his response to the Physicist Stephen Hawking's claim that "the universe can come from nothing," Fr. Spitzer was invited to be on "Larry King Live." He recently traveled to Rome where, after speaking, he received invitations to 22 different countries to speak about his work. He is in the process of creating a curriculum for schools and on his Magis Center of Reason and Faith web site he has an "Ask Fr. Spitzer" column as well as other great resources.

Fr. Spitzer and I talked about ways that the Apostleship of Prayer and the other part of the Magis Institute--the Magis Center for Catholic Spirituality--might collaborate. I've already been working a bit with the Center which has an email service that sends daily reflections written by Jesuits to subscribers around the world.

I'm blessed to have such a brilliant friend who is also a holy Jesuit. In his homily at Mass on Monday morning, he talked about the story of the blind man of Jericho (Luke 18: 35-43). Jesus answered his prayer that he might see by healing him. Fr. Spitzer has made this same prayer. His eye sight is very bad and he needs the help of others to read the books he uses for his research. How much more good he could do if only he had good vision! Yet, he pointed out, that while God has not answered his prayer for healing, he has received another gift that is perhaps better. Humility. I'm reminded of what St. Ignatius wrote in "The First Principle and Foundation" of his "Spiritual Exercises": "Our one desire and choice should be what is more conducive to the end for which we are created." That end? "To praise, reverence, and serve God our Lord, and by this means to" find salvation. Thus, "as far as we are concerned, we should not prefer health to sickness," or, in Fr. Spitzer's case, good eye sight to poor eye sight. Of course it is natural to want good eye sight and to pray for it. But in the end, when God has a better gift for us that is more helpful to our ultimate goal of salvation, we can accept even blindness as a gift. It's tough, but holiness isn't for wimps. I'm grateful to Fr. Spitzer for the reminder.

Magnificat Women's Retreat

On Thursday I got up bright and early (something more to "offer up") in order to catch a 6 AM flight to Orange County, California where Kathleen Beckman picked me up. Kathleen is a regional coordinator for a Catholic Women's group called "Magnificat" and is the author of several books including one entitled "Rekindle Eucharistic Amazement." We drove about an hour to the Passionist Retreat House located in Sierra Madre, north of Los Angeles, where I'm helping on a retreat for about 85 women.

We began Thursday evening when I gave a talk introducing the retreatants to the "Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius," and leading them in a consideration of what is called "The First Principle and Foundation." Yesterday I gave two talks: "The Call of Christ the King" and "Discernment."

Today I'll be available for spiritual direction and the celebration of the Sacrament of Reconciliation, and Claretian Father John Hampsch, noted for his ministry of healing, will be giving talks on the gifts of the Spirit and healing the family tree.

Our retreat ends tomorrow and I'll be giving a talk on St. Ignatius' last exercise, "The Contemplation to Attain the Love of God," and how we can live the total offering he proposes by praying and living the Daily Offering.

Though Milwaukee was in the 60's when I left, our plane had to be de-iced in Denver--a sign of things to come in the upper Midwest. Thus I'm drinking in the beauty of California: the sun, the warmth, and the fragrant flowers right outside my window. I'm also drinking deeply of the faith of the retreatants who are an inspiration as they open themselves up to the Holy Spirit and follow the call to go deeper in their spiritual lives this weekend. This too--this joy--is something to be offered up.

Detachment

I was on Relevant Radio's call-in spiritual direction show "The Inner Life" today. Every Friday the topic is determined by the Gospel of the following Sunday and today's topic was "Detachment." The Gospel on Sunday is Luke 14: 25-33 and has the following line of Jesus: "anyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple."

I began the show talking about the context for this saying of Jesus. "Great crowds," the Gospel says, "were traveling with Jesus...." Why? Was it because they liked His teaching? Or was it perhaps because He was able to feed thousands and heal many? Were they interested only in the earthly benefits that Jesus could bring them?

To make sure that they were following Him for the right reasons, I think, Jesus gave them a challenging word, telling them that they must be ready to let go of everything they might hold dear in this life in order to receive eternal life. He made it clear to the crowds that if anything on this side of eternity got in the way of the goal of eternal life--a relationship, possessions, honor or position--they should be ready to renounce it.

St. Ignatius makes the same point in the "Spiritual Exercises" where he writes: "Man is created to praise, reverence, and serve God our Lord, and by this means to save his soul. The other things on the face of the earth are created for man to help him in attaining the end for which he is created. Hence, man is to make use of them in as far as they help him in the attainment of his end, and he must rid himself of them in as far as they prove a hindrance to him. ... Our one desire and choice should be what is more conducive to the end for which we are created."

This makes good sense and the world understands this lesson well when it comes to its plans. I can just imagine Jesus saying that the people of the world are much more clever and focused than the children of the Kingdom of God. Worldly people manage their time according to their goals. They plan everything around succeeding in business. They have a slogan: "If you fail to plan, you plan to fail." If this is true for success in business and acquiring earthly wealth, how much more true is it for success in eternity and acquiring heavenly treasure?

Jesus didn't mince words about being ready to renounce everything for the sake of the Kingdom. But I can't help thinking that a lot of people in the large crowd that was following Him slipped away. It's not a message people like to hear, then or now.

Summer Time

"Summer time, and the livin' is easy." So goes a song of George Gershwin that premiered in the 1935 musical "Porgy and Bess." It's summer time at the Apostleship of Prayer and it's not the fish that are jumping, as in the song, but all of us.

The dream of several young Jesuits, priests and scholastics, is being realized this summer with "The Jesuit Mission Band." It's not a musical band, but a group of Jesuits that is going around the Midwest offering to young adults (18 to 35) a brief (Friday night and Saturday) retreat based on the "Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius" and the practical spirituality of the Apostleship of Prayer. They've been in the office this week preparing their presentations and it's been exciting to see their energy. It's all part of the revival of the Apostleship of Prayer in the U.S.

This weekend I'll be at a conference run by a group called "Sacred Heart Communities in Collaboration." This national conference is entitled "Hearts on Fire: New Beginnings; New Challenges," and I'll be the first of three speakers. My talk is entitled "Wells of Love: Our Covenant Relationship with the Father through Jesus."

The 14 talks from my preached retreat based on the "Spiritual Exercises" are now posted online at Creighton University's Online Ministries site. They were recorded last April at the Jesuit Retreat House in Lake Elmo, Minnesota, also known as Demontreville.

After receiving encouragement from a publisher to whom we submitted a book proposal, I've begun writing a book. Right now the title is "The Power of Praying for Others" and our hope is that it will fill a void that exists among the many books on prayer. Our ambitious hope is that this book will inspire people with what we call "the simple and profound way of life" of the Apostleship of Prayer in the same way that Jesuit Fr. Henri Ramiere's classic book of the late 1800's ("The Apostleship of Prayer") did.

Along with these tasks there are the monthly and daily radio and web reflections.

There's certainly no moss gathering around the Apostleship of Prayer this summer.