Bl. Rupert Mayer, S.J.

November 3 is the feast of St. Martin de Porres but it is also the day when many Catholics remember the Jesuit priest, Blessed Rupert Mayer.  He was born in Germany in 1876 and entered the Society of Jesus in 1900, one year after his ordination.  He served as a chaplain in the German army during World War I and was the first chaplain to be awarded the Iron Cross for bravery.  His service in the military ended when his left leg was shattered in a grenade attack and had to be amputated.

After the war Fr. Mayer went to Munich where he served the poor and started two Sunday Masses for travelers at the main railroad terminal.  When Hitler rose to power Fr. Mayer spoke out against Nazism and in 1937 was ordered by the Gestapo to stop speaking in public.  He continued preaching in church and was arrested three times.  In 1939 he was sent to the Sachsenhausen concentation camp near Berlin.

As the health of the popular sixty-three year old Jesuit war hero began to deteriorate the camp officials, afraid that he would die and be declared a martyr, sent him to a Benedictine monastery.  When World War II ended he returned to Munich and his pastoral work. 

On November 1, 1945, while celebrating Mass and in the middle of his homily about how Christians are called to imitate the saints, Fr. Mayer collapsed and died.  Pope St. John Paul II beatified him in 1983.

Blessed Rupert Mayer is an example of one who lived a daily offering of himself out of love for God and his brothers and sisters.  His favorite prayer has been made into a song by the Catholic Filipino group Bukas Palad.  The lyrics are:

Lord, what You will let it be so 

Where You will there we will go
What is Your will help us to know 

Lord, when You will the time is right
In You there's joy in strife
For Your will I'll give my life

To ease Your burden brings no pain
To forego all for You is gain
As long as I in You remain

REFRAIN:
Because You will it, it is best
Because You will it, we are blest
Till in Your hands our hearts find rest
Till in Your hands our hearts find rest

St. Joan of Arc and St. Therese of Lisieux

It’s the feast of St. Joan of Arc who was burned at the stake on this day in 1431 when she was 19 years old.  She was a favorite saint of St. Therese of Lisieux who is one of the patron saints of the Apostleship of Prayer in which she enrolled when she was 12. 

In a letter to a missionary priest, St. Therese wrote : “In my childhood, I dreamed of combating in the battlefield. When I began to learn the history of France, I was enchanted with the deeds of Joan of Arc; I felt in my heart a desire and courage to imitate them.”

On January 21, 1894, Therese played the leading role in a play she had written about St. Joan of Arc. Her sister Celine photographed her posing as the saint in prison.  Then, just six days later, Pope Leo XIII officially opened the cause for Joan’s beatification.  In May of that year, Therese wrote a poem entitled “Canticle to Obtain the Canonization of the Venerable Joan of Arc.”  It contains these lines:

7. It is not Joan's victories
We wish to celebrate this day.
My God, we know her true glories
Are her virtues, her love.

8. By fighting, Joan saved France.
But her great virtues
Had to be marked with the seal of suffering,
With the divine seal of Jesus her Spouse!

10. Joan, you are our only hope.
From high in the Heavens, deign to hear our voices.
Come down to us, come convert France.
Come save her a second time.

12. Sweet martyr, our monasteries are yours.
You know well that virgins are your sisters,
And like you the object of their prayers
Is to see God reign in every heart.

4 Refrain
To save souls
Is their desire.
Ah! Give them your fire
Of apostle and martyr!

In April, 1897 St. Therese’s tuberculosis had progressed to the point that she became seriously ill and in July she was moved from her room to the community’s infirmary. In May she wrote the poem “To Joan of Arc” in which she speaks of the value of suffering:

When the Lord God of hosts gave you the victory,
You drove out the foreigner and had the king crowned.
Joan, your name became renowned in history.
Our greatest conquerors paled before you.

But that was only a fleeting glory.
Your name needed a Saint's halo.
So the Beloved offered you His bitter cup,
And, like Him, you were spurned by men.

At the bottom of a black dungeon, laden with heavy chains,
The cruel foreigner filled you with grief.
Not one of your friends took part in your pain.
Not one came forward to wipe your tears.

Joan, in your dark prison you seem to me
More radiant, more beautiful than at your King's coronation.
This heavenly reflection of eternal glory,
Who then brought it upon you? It was betrayal.

Ah! If the God of love in this valley of tears
Had not come to seek betrayal and death,
Suffering would hold no attraction for us.
Now we love it; it is our treasure.

Because Jesus suffered and then entered into glory, those who suffer can be configured more closely to him. Their sufferings, united to the Cross, can be a powerful prayerful offering that helps in the ongoing work of the salvation of souls so that they will, as St. Therese wrote, “see God reign in every heart.”

St. Damien of Molokai

Saturday, May 10, was the feast of St. Damien of Molokai, the priest and member of the Congregation of the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary, who served the lepers of the Hawaiian Islands.  He shared their life and, in the end, he shared their illness and death.  The words of Jesus come to mind: "No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends" (John 15: 13). What was the source of Damien's love?

St. John Paul II answered that question in his homily at the time of Damien's beatification in 1995:

"Where did Damien's charity and happiness in often difficult situations come from? He drew his strength from the spirituality of his congregation: the contemplation of the Eucharist, the mystery of love in which Christ truly communicates with the one who receives Him and whom He invites to total dedication: 'I find my consolation in my one companion who never abandons me,' he used to say when speaking of the real presence of Christ in the tabernacle. The fact that the congregation to which Fr. Damien belongs is consecrated to the heart of Jesus and to the heart of His Mother is eloquent.  Between these two hearts there is an exchanged of gifts in the mystery of the Incarnation and the Redemption. Fr. Damien drew inspiration from this exchange and he followed it to the end. 'How sweet it is to die as a son of the Sacred Heart,' he would say on the day of his death, Monday of Holy Week, 1899. In fact, a passage from one of Damien's letters which adorns his tomb recalls his true mission: 'I am the happiest of men because I can serve the Lord in the poor and sick children rejected by others.'"

Last January I visited the cathedral in Honolulu where Fr. Damien was ordained and I also saw the statue of him which is outside the capital building. St. Damien's heroism is an inspiration to all.

Retreat in Hawaii

A couple weeks ago, during the coldest week (so far) of our Wisconsin winter, I went to Hawaii to
give a retreat to the priests and bishop of the Honolulu Diocese. The view from St. Stephen’s Retreat Center was spectacular and the weather was perfect, though the local TV weather station told people that we would be having a “two blanket night” because the temperatures were going to fall to 60.  I survived.  This photo is from the dining room and in the distance you can see the ocean.

 

The Cathedral of Our Lady of Peace is the oldest cathedral in continuous use in the United States. It was dedicated in 1843 and St. Damien, the leper priest of Molokai, was ordained there on May 21, 1864. On either side of the sanctuary you will find pictures and relics of both St. Damien and St. Marianne Cope, a Franciscan Sister who cared for lepers, including Fr. Damien during the last year or so of his life.  Today is Mother Marianne’s feast. Here is a saying of hers: “What little good we can do in this world to help and comfort the suffering, we wish to do it quietly and so far as possible unnoticed and unknown.” 

One of the priests who was on the retreat and whose company I enjoyed at meals was Fr. Cletus  Mooya. He was from Zambia and he came to Hawaii with two other Africans who were members of the Oratorians, a group founded by St. Philip Neri in 1575. They were unable to start an Oratory in Hawaii and ended up becoming diocesan priests for Honolulu. A week ago I was shocked to receive a message that Fr. Cletus had suddenly gone into a coma and died. He was only 40. I hope my retreat, with its focus on the deep, enduring love of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, helped prepare him to meet the Lord. May Fr. Cletus rest in peace and may his family in Zambia and the friends he made and people he served in Hawaii be consoled. Amen.

All Heroes

Last Friday, the Solemnity of All Saints, I presided and preached at the all-school Mass at St. Ignatius Prep in Chicago. 

Our first reading from the Book of Revelation (7:2-4, 9-14) gives us a picture of the saints in heavenly glory. These are the heroes and heroines of our faith. They had the courage to stand up for what is right even when their lives were threatened. The image may make them seem distant from us, but they are in reality very close.

I like another image of the saints that can be found in Hebrews 12: 1-2: "Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us and persevere in running the race that lies before us while keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader and perfecter of faith." 

Some years ago I lived at the Jesuit Novitiate on Summit Avenue in St. Paul, Minnesota. Every fall the Twin Cities Marathon would race by our house. Actually, the first runners "raced by" but as the hours passed, the stragglers--some barely jogging, many just walking--came chugging along.  People lined up along the street to watch would cheer them on and hand them cups of water and Gatorade.

That's the image we see in Hebrews. We are in the race of life and we are surrounded by the saints who offer us encouragement, who pray for us, who intercede for us. We may be physically separated from them and from other deceased people but we are intimately united to them in a deep, spiritual bond. We are all members of the Body of Christ. Some parts of the Body have died but that doesn't mean they have gone out of existence. Rather, they are now with the Lord, the Head of the Body. You could say that we have friends in high places.

Last Wednesday Pope Francis said: "In this communion--communion means 'common-union'--we are a great family, all of us, where all the components help and support each other. ... All the baptized down here on earth ... and all the blessed who are already in paradise make up one great family."

We are one family because we are all children of God. We are children not just in name but in reality as our second reading (1 John 3:1-3) tells us: "See what love the Father has bestowed on us that we may be called children of God. Yet so we are."  As family we can ask for each other's help. Pope Francis said: "Our faith is in need of the support of others, especially in difficult moments. If we are united, faith becomes strong. Which one of us--everyone, everyone--has not felt insecurities, losses and even doubts in the journey of faith? All of us have experienced this, even myself: it is part of the path of faith, it is part of our life."

So we need to support one another. We need to ask for help from one another and from the saints. But to ask for help, Pope Francis said, requires two things--humility and courage. "It is important to find the courage and the humility to open oneself to others, to ask for help, to ask for a hand."  It takes humility to admit that one is weak and in need of help. It takes courage to ask for that help.

We see both of these virtues--humility and courage--in the Beatitudes which are the basis of holiness, the basis of friendship with God and with one another.

Jesus said "Blessed are the poor in spirit" but the world says "Blessed are the proud, the self-sufficient, the independent who don't have to rely on others."

Jesus said "Blessed are they who mourn," who are able to share in the sufferings and sorrows of others. But the world says "Blessed are those who are untouched by others' sufferings, who are unfazed by sorrow, who are cold and indifferent."

Jesus said "Blessed are the meek" but the world says "Blessed are those who try to get to the top so that they can be above everyone else."

Jesus said "Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness," who support their friends in doing what is right.  The world says "Blessed are those who follow the trends of a culture of death."

Jesus said "Blessed are the merciful," those who forgive one another. The world says "Blessed are those who get even, who hold grudges and resentments against one another so that they won't be vulnerable and get hurt again."

Jesus said "Blessed are the clean of heart," the pure of heart who see one another as beloved children of God. The world says "Blessed are those who see others as objects to be used for pleasure or in order to get ahead."

Jesus said "Blessed are the peacemakers" but the world says "Blessed are those who argue and create conflict, who gossip about others and add to the contentious environment in which we live."

Jesus said "Blessed are they who are persecuted." And you will be if you live according to these Beatitudes. The world will oppose you.

The Beatitudes are difficult to follow, in fact, impossible. On your own, that is. But they are what make heroes, saints.

At St. Ignatius Prep you have a great patron who can help you--St. Ignatius, the founder of the Jesuits. Next week Mr. Santiago Rodriguez, S.J., the youth and young adult director of the Apostleship of Prayer will be here to show you what you can learn from St. Ignatius. You will have an opportunity to participate in sessions that will address the purpose and meaning of life, discernment and tools for making good decisions, how the imagination can be used in prayer, and the "magis" or "more."

This was at the heart of St. Ignatius. It wasn't enough to do a few things for God. He always wanted to do more. It wasn't enough to give God great glory. He wanted to give God greater glory.

Later this month you will be hearing a lot about President Kennedy.  It's the 50th anniversary of his assassination. In the speech he gave when he was inaugurated, he said "Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country."  These words inspired a generation to volunteer to help others through the Peace Corps and VISTA. They inspired many to work for civil rights and for peace. 

Today, as we honor the saints, we can hear words similar to those of President Kennedy and ask what we can do to live heroic lives? Ask not what others can do for you; ask what you can do for others. Ask not what your Church can do for you; ask what you can do for your Church.

"A Heart Stronger than Death"

The greatest love the world has ever know is revealed in the Pierced Heart of Jesus Christ. This love conquered death. This love unites all God's children and keeps them united even when death physically separates them from one another.

It often happens that at the celebration of Holy Mass in my Jesuit community, some of my brothers stumble at the words of the first form of the Penitential Rite: "I confess to almighty God and to you, my brothers and sisters...."  Some drop the word "sisters" because no women are present. Yet, while they are not physically present, they are with us in an even deeper way.  Our celebration of the Mass includes the living and the dead. The Communion of Saints, those present physically and many others present spiritually, gather to pray and celebrate at every Mass.

Moreover, when we receive our Lord's Body and Blood in Holy Communion, we are one with Him who is one with His entire Body--the Church--living and deceased. We may be separated from some parts of the Body through time and space, but we are united intimately in the Sacred Heart of Jesus who gives Himself to us in the Eucharist.

In the Litany of the Sacred Heart we invoke Jesus as a "Burning Furnace of Charity." Hebrews 12:

29) says that "our God is a consuming fire." Like the burning bush with which God appeared to Moses, the love of God consumes but does not destroy. It purifies us and unites us to God Himself and to all the faithful. Through the Eucharistic Heart of Jesus--Burning Furnace of Charity--we are one with God and each other.

In his General Audience of October 30, 2013, Pope Francis spoke of this union. He called the Trinity the "burning furnace of love" and then said:

"In this communion--communion means 'common-union'--we are a great family, all of us, where the components help and support each other. ... All the baptized down here on earth, the souls in Purgatory and the Blessed who are already in Paradise make up one great family."

We never lose a loved one who has died because this "one great family" exists in the Heart of Jesus--a Burning Furnace of Love that is stronger than death.

Heart of Jesus, Heart of the Most Holy Trinity, keep us one with You and with all our brothers and sisters. Amen.

Finder of the Lost

I think that it was when I was in grade school that I got my first holy card. It was a picture of St. Joseph with a prayer that could be said during summer vacation.  I don't recall praying it, but I did save that card in my missal.  Thus began a collection that has grown into boxes of thousands of holy cards.  You can tell the popularity of certain saints by how full their envelopes are and today's saint--Anthony of Padua--could use a second envelope for all the cards of him that I've acquired.

St. Anthony wasn't actually born in Padua, Italy, but in Lisbon, Portugal and a few years ago, while on a pilgrimage to Fatima with Mater Dei Tours, I was able to visit his birth place over which a church has been built.  When he was fifteen Anthony entered the Augustinian monastery near Lisbon. Ten years later, after hearing about the martyrdom of several Franciscans in North Africa, he transferred to that religious order so that he might follow in their footsteps.  Poor health forced him to leave North Africa and bad weather forced his ship off course.  Landing in Italy, he made his way to Assisi where he was ordained and appointed by St. Francis himself to teach the other friars and to preach.  He died when he was 36 in the year 1231 and was canonized less than a year later.

Most people know St. Anthony as the saint whose intercession is sought in order to find lost articles and a  number of rhyming prayers have developed over the years, including:

St. Anthony, St. Anthony, please come down. Something's lost and can't be found.

Dear St. Anthony, I pray, bring it back without delay.

Something's lost and can't be found. Please St. Anthony, look around.

How is it that St. Anthony came to be the intercessor for finding what's lost?  It seems that a novice in his community once ran off with a valuable manuscript that Anthony used for his prayer and preaching. Anthony prayed for its safe return and soon the novice returned shaking in fear and telling the story that as he was fleeing he encountered a frightening apparition that stopped him and made him so afraid that he came back.

One of the holy cards I have is called "Litany of the Lost."  On this feast (and why not on other days as well?) let's turn to St. Anthony to intercede with us for all who are lost in any way with part of that Litany:

For those of us who have lost our health ... our peace of mind ... our housing ... our financial security ... St. Anthony, pray for us.

For those of us who have lost a loved one ... our dreams ... our talents ... our initial zeal ... our sobriety ... St. Anthony, pray for us.

For those of us who have lost peace within our families ... civil peace ... our trust in others ... our virtue ... our home ... St. Anthony, pray for us.

Let us pray: All loving God, you have given us St. Anthony, the patron of the lost, as an intercessor of those who are in need of your mercy. Listen to his voice as he calls out to you on our behalf and grant those things which will help us grow in your love.  We ask this through Christ our Lord.  Amen. 

You are Necessary

I celebrated Mass at 8 AM today, the Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, with the Discalced Carmelite Sisters in Flemington, NJ and the small community that gathers on Sunday to pray with them.  Here is my homily:

I want to begin with a question: when did God think of you?  Was it nine months and a day before you were born?  Or ten months before your birth?  In the first reading (Jeremiah 1:4-5, 17-19) we hear God say, "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I dedicated you...." So God had us in mind before we were conceived and began to develop in our mothers' wombs.  But when did God first think of you?

In a homily he gave shortly after being elected to lead the Church, Pope Benedict XVI said that "each of us is the result of a thought of God."  The thoughts of God are eternal. God had you in mind from all eternity, not just at some moment in time preceding your conception and birth.  The Holy Father went on to say, "Each of us is willed, each of us is loved, each of us is necessary." 

Me?! Necessary?! Yes!

We have a tendency to think along the lines of the people of Nazareth whom we see in today's Gospel (Luke 4:21-30). They had an agenda and expectations about what the Messiah would be like. They thought he would be a great religious leader, a great military leader. Jesus, the hometown boy and son of a carpenter, didn't meet those expectations. They saw Him as insignificant.

We too have expectations. We too judge according to worldly standards of greatness.

Paul confronts that in our second reading (1 Corinthians 12:31-13:13). He writes that what's important is not prophecy or speaking in all sorts of human or heavenly tongues. What's important is not the miraculous moving of a mountain or being able to "comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge."  What's important is not giving up everything and living a life of poverty like that of St. Francis of Assisi.  What's important is not even undergoing great sufferings for the faith or undergoing martyrdom.  All of these can become the source of pride, that which first separated the devil and the first humans from God.  What matters is love.  We and what we do are nothing without love.

Why?  Because God is love and we're made in the image and likeness of love. We are here on earth for one reason--to learn to love. We exist to love God with all our heart, mind, and strength. Loving God totally, we will love what God loves--our neighbor, those others whom God also had in mind from all eternity.

What matters--what makes us necessary to God and for God's plan--is not doing great things, but the love with which we do everything. This is what Blessed Teresa of Calcutta taught when she said: "It is not how much we do, but how much love we put into what we do." This was the "Little Way" of the Doctor of the Church, St. Therese of Lisieux. This was the way of St. Teresa of Avila who, at the end of The Interior Castle, wrote:

"In sum, my Sisters, what I conclude with is that we shouldn't build castles in the air. The Lord doesn't look so much at the greatness of our works as the love with which they are done. And if we do what we can, His Majesty will enable us each day to do more and more, provided that we do not quickly tire. But during the little while this life lasts--and perhaps it will last a shorter time than each one thinks--let us offer the Lord interiorly and exteriorly the sacrifice we can. His Majesty will join it with that which He offered on the cross to the Father for us. Thus even though our works are small they will have the value our love for Him would have merited had they been great."

This is the way of the Apostleship of Prayer. We offer to God every day with its thoughts, words, and deeds, its prayers, works, joys, and sufferings, in union with the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. In that way, every moment can be an act of love. United to the perfect offering of Jesus on the cross and at Mass, every moment becomes significant, eternally significant. And in that way, a necessary part of God's plan for you and the world. You and every act of love are necessary.

The Holy Innocents

Today the Church remembers with a feast the massacre of children in Bethlehem shortly after the birth of Jesus.  According to the Jewish historian Flavius Josephus, who lived shortly after the time of Jesus, King Herod was a “man of great barbarity.” King Herod was the puppet king of Israel when Jesus was born. Afraid of losing his power when he heard from three mysterious visitors from the East that a new king had been born, he “ordered the massacre of all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity two years old and under” (Matthew 2: 16). Jesus escaped when His parents fled with Him to Egypt. Thus the Son of God began His earthly life under the threat of murder and as a refugee.

These innocent boys are honored today as martyrs; the vestments at Mass are red in their memory. The word "martyr" means "witness" and so the question naturally arises, how can the victims of King Herod's fear and jealousy be venerated as martyrs? How can they be considered witnesses to Christ? They had not reached the age of reason. Moreover, they died at the beginning of the earthly life of Jesus; how could they have given witness to and died for the faith?

St. Quodvultus answers those questions in the second reading in the Office of Readings today:

"The children die for Christ, though they do not know it.  The parents mourn for the death of martyrs. The [Christ] child makes of those as yet unable to speak fit witnesses to himself. See the kind of kingdom that is his, coming as he did in order to be this kind of king. See how the deliverer is already working deliverance, the savior already working salvation. ... To what merits of their own do the children owe this kind of victory? They cannot speak, yet they bear witness to Christ. They cannot use their limbs to engage in battle, yet already they bear off the palm of victory." 
The children died for Christ.  They died in place of Christ.  Surely the One whose life was saved as their lives were taken blesses their short lives with the gift of eternal life which He won for all through His death and resurrection.  Here's how the British author Frank Sheed put it in his book To Know Christ Jesus:

"There is anguish for us, twenty centuries later, in thinking of the slain babies and their parents. For the babies the agony was soon over; in the next world they would come to know the one they had died to save and for all eternity they would have that glory. For the parents, the pain would have lasted longer; but at death they too must have found that there was a special sense in which God was in their debt, as he had never been indebted to any. They and their children were the only ones who ever agonized in order to save God’s life."

 

The violent deaths of innocent children have not ended in what many think is a more civilized time.  Families are grieving in Connecticut because a man shot their children.  People speculate on the reasons, but the ultimate reason can be found in our culture. Blessed John Paul II called the culture of the contemporary world a "culture of death."  People are treated as objects and the "virtual reality" of our media and games encourages us to see them as such.  Fear still drives people, as it drove King Herod, to kill children who are seen as threats to our freedom, our life style, our happiness.  Growing and developing outside or inside the womb, children are viewed as property that can be discarded for convenience or in anger.  I am praying for the families of the Innocents of Connecticut today and offering Mass for an end to abortion. 

St. Stephen and Forgiveness

I've been praying the Divine Office of the Church or Breviary since I was a Jesuit scholastic in formation.  My parents bought me a copy of it as a graduation present when I finished my Masters in English at St. Louis University.  I've never grown tired of it, nor have I found it repetitious.  In fact, there are certain readings to which I look forward every year.  Today's Second Reading in the Office of Readings is one of these.  It comes from St. Fulgentius of Ruspe, a North African bishop who died around the year 530.  His sermon on this feast of St. Stephen speaks of love and forgiveness.

St. Stephen's martyrdom is described in Acts of the Apostles chapter 6.  As he was being stoned to death, people "were piling their cloaks at the feet of a young man named Saul."  The account goes on: "As Stephen was being stoned he could be heard praying, 'Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.' He fell to his knees and cried in a loud voice, 'Lord, do not hold this sin against them.' And with that he died. Saul, for his part concurred in the act of killing."

In his death Stephen clearly imitates his Master, Jesus.  He surrenders his soul into the hands of Jesus and prays for those who are killing him.  One answer to his prayers is Saul to whom Jesus appeared and who, as a result, experienced a complete change.  We can imagine Stephen, from heaven, continuing to pray for Saul throughout his life.  Prayer, united to love that desires the good of one's enemy and to forgiveness that opens a way for God's mercy to enter into the heart of one's persecutor, is the greatest force the world has ever known. 

Here are excerpts from St. Fulgentius' sermon that have moved me over the years:

"The love that brought Christ from heaven to earth raised Stephen from earth to heaven. Love was Stephen's weapon by which he gained every battle.... His love of God kept him from yielding to the ferocious mob; his love for his neighbor made him pray for those who were stoning him. Love inspired him to reprove those who erred, to make them amend; love led him to pray for those who stoned him, to save them from punishment.  Strengthened by the power of his love, he overcame the raging cruelty of Saul and won his persecutor on earth as his companion in heaven.  In his holy and tireless love he longed to gain by prayer those whom he could not convert by admonition.

"Now at last, Paul rejoices with Stephen, with Stephen he delights in the glory of Christ, with Stephen he exults, with Stephen he reigns. Stephen went first, slain by the stones thrown by Paul, but Paul followed after, helped by the prayer of Stephen. This, surely, is the true life, my brothers, a life in which Paul feels no shame because of Stephen's death, and Stephen delights in Paul's companionship, for love fills them both with joy."

St. John of Damascus

Every day the newspaper has stories about the conflict in Syria.  Today the Church honors a native of Syria, St. John of Damascus also known as St. John Damascene.  He was born around the year 645 and worked as a treasury official for the Muslim caliph of Damascus.  In time he quit his job and migrated to Jerusalem where he became a monk in St. Sabbas Monastery.  He's important to us today because he defended the use of holy images at a time when many, known as iconoclasts, declared that it was blasphemous to make an image of Christ or the saints.  The following quote of his defending the use of images for prayer can be found in the Catechism of the Catholic Church #1159:

"Previously God, who has neither a body nor a face, absolutely could not be represented by an image.  But now that he has made himself visible in the flesh and has lived with men, I can make an image of what I have seen of God ... and contemplate the glory of the Lord, his face unveiled."

When we pray with holy images we don't worship or venerate the material from which they were made but the reality they portray.  They are like windows that open our hearts and minds to the reality beyond them. 

Each of us, in turn, is called to be an image of Christ.  As members of the Body of Christ, we are to reveal him to the world.  With this in mind let's pray that Advent may help us get rid of anything that distorts the image of Christ in us.  And, on this feast of a native Syrian saint, let's pray for all the Syrian people but especially our Christian brothers and sisters who find themselves in an increasingly hostile environment. 

The Thief

I've heard that the earliest known image of Jesus depicts him as the Good Shepherd. Today's Gospel (Luke 12: 39-48) gives a very different image of Jesus. After warning his disciples that "if the master of the house had known the hour when the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into," he goes on to talk about the Son of Man coming "at an hour you do not expect." Like many of the parables which are designed to startle us into deeper reflection, so this comparison which Jesus makes is shocking.

Yet many people do think of God as a thief. There is a tendency to think of our lives as our own, not God's. Our gifts and talents and hard-earned possessions are our own, not God's. We see death as God stealing what is rightfully ours. The reality is that everything we are and have belongs to God. This was the meaning of last Sunday's Gospel (Matthew 22: 15-21). Jesus says to give the Roman coin back to the one whose image is on it and to give "to God what belongs to God." We who are made in the image and likeness of God and bear that image belong to God, not ourselves.

Our lives are a series of exercises in letting go. We practice surrender, preparing for the ultimate surrender when God will ask of us our very lives. Our practice of making a daily offering can help us. What also helps is the example of saints, like the North American Jesuit Martyrs whom we honor today, or St. Jeanne Jugan.

I'm giving a retreat to 17 Little Sisters of the Poor at their retreat house and summer vacation facility for seniors in Flemington, NJ. St. Jeanne Jugan, their foundress, was canonized by Pope Benedict in 2009. When Blessed John Paul II beatified her in 1982, he said: "Jeanne invites all of us, and I quote here from the Rule of the Little Sisters, to share personally in the beatitude of spiritual poverty, leading to that complete dispossession which commits a soul to God."

"Complete dispossession." This is not something we like to hear. In our "super-sizing" age where "more is better", St. Jeanne Jugan, like the Gospel, is counter-cultural. We tend to fool ourselves, thinking that we are in control. The reality is that God is God and we are not. We are God's creatures and beloved children. We and all we have belong to God.

No Limits to God's Mercy

Today is the feast day of St. Faustina, the Apostle of Divine Mercy. When Jesus appeared to her in the 1930's, he told her that his greatest attribute was mercy. His mercy, like his love, is infinite. The only limit to it is the one we place on it. In other words, God is always ready to forgive and even sends graces to move our hearts to return to him. We limit God's mercy in our own lives and in those of others by our refusal to receive mercy and to give mercy.



The Mass readings today underscore this. The Prophet Jonah is angry that God has forgiven his enemies after he fulfilled God's command to warn them that their sins were leading them to destruction. God shows Jonah that he wants to forgive and not destroy, that he is "concerned" over the more than 120,000 people "who cannot distinguish their right hand from their left." In other words: people who were never taught right from wrong, or who were taught it but really did not understand. They were like those who crucified Jesus and for whom he prayed: "Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing."

In the Gospel (Luke 11: 1-4) Jesus teaches his disciples to pray, calling upon God as Jesus himself did: "Father". God is the one Father whose human children made in his own image and likeness must forgive one another as their Father forgives them.


Jesus directed St. Faustina to write a diary that contained her thoughts, prayers, and the words of Jesus to her. In one passage (#723) Jesus said: "The greater the sinner, the greater the right he has to My mercy." "Right"? That's not a word we would think of in this context, but Jesus declares that because he came to forgive sinners, they are the ones who have the most claim on his mercy.

Another passage (#1183) is a prayer that St. Faustina wrote. It sounds very much like the "one day at a time" spirituality of the Morning Offering:

"O Jesus, I want to live in the present moment, to live as if this were the last day of my life. I want to use every moment scrupulously for the greater glory of God, to use every circumstance for the benefit of my soul. I want to look upon everything, from the point of view that nothing happens without the will of God."

In another passage (#1582) St. Faustina sounds just like St. Therese of the Child Jesus who said that she would spend her heaven doing good on earth. St. Faustina felt that she would be so filled with God's love and mercy in heaven that she would be an even better channel for God's overflowing mercy to reach the world. She wrote:

"O my Jesus, I now embrace the whole world and ask You for mercy for it. ... Poor earth, I will not forget you. Although I feel that I will be immediately drowned in God as in an ocean of happiness, that will not be an obstacle to my returning to earth to encourage souls and incite them to trust in God's mercy. Indeed, this immersion in God will give me the possibility of boundless action."

Thus, St. Faustina is a great friend and intercessor. May we all become channels and instruments of God's mercy as well.

The Martyrs of Korea

Today is the feast day of the Martyrs of Korea, faithful Catholics who died for the faith in the Nineteenth Century and who were canonized in 1984 when Blessed John Paul II visited their native land. I visited there two years before and I couldn't help thinking about that trip today.

It was the summer of 1982, a few months before I was ordained a transitional deacon, and I went to Korea with a Jesuit friend, Fr. Larry Gillick. For the six weeks that we were there I served as his eyes and he served as my mentor in giving retreats around the country. You see, Fr. Gillick has been blind since an accident that took his eyesight when he was only seven.

We spent much of our thirteen hour flight from Seattle to Seoul worrying and fretting. What if the Jesuits who were supposed to meet us there didn't show up? How would we communicate with people and find our way to the Jesuit University of Sogang? What if they wouldn't let Fr. Gillick's big green tape player through Customs? What if we got sick from the food? What if we caught a strange Asian disease? And, one of the scariest thoughts, how were we ever going to manage the Korean toilets which we had heard were holes in concrete slabs and not Western-style "thrones?" It was one thing for me to consider this but it certainly caused more panic in my blind friend.

As we approached Kimpo Airport we finally did what we should have been doing instead of worrying. We prayed. Instead of surrendering to the anxiety, we surrendered to God and asked Him to get us safely through the coming six weeks.

Every night we sat down and wrote about the adventures of the day and God's goodness to us. We ended up calling this Journal "Kam-sa-ham-nida" which means "Thank you." For God answered our prayer as we had hoped and took great care of us.

I couldn't help thinking of our anxiety in contrast to the courage of the Korean Martyrs. We visited their shrine which is located on a high hill overlooking the Han River where many of them were thrown over the cliff to their deaths below. In the shrine was a museum with many of the gruesome instruments of torture that were used to elicit their denial of the faith. Surely some of them, especially those who were mere children, must have been afraid. But their faith and courage prevailed. God took care of them too, though not in a way that added to their time on earth. He took them to Himself in heaven and we are able to celebrate them today.

The fear that Fr. Gillick and I experienced as we flew across the Pacific Ocean seems so foolish now in light of what those Martyrs faced. Yet, we shouldn't compare. We all have fears and anxieties that at the time can seem pretty major. In facing them and not letting them control us the trick is the same one that those Korean Martyrs employed, the same one that we two traveling and fearful Jesuits employed. Prayer.

This is what St. Paul prescribed against anxiety as well:

"Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus" (Philippians 4: 6-7).

Jesus' Grandparents

Happy Grandparents Day! Now I know it is not the officiall U.S. Grandparents Day. Since 1978 that's been celebrated on the first Sunday after Labor Day which will be September 11 this year. But I like to honor grandparents today because it's the feast of the parents of the Blessed Virgin Mary--Sts. Joachim and Anne--the grandparents of Jesus.

In the Eastern Churches, both Catholic and Orthodox, their feast day is September 9, the day after we celebrate the Nativity of Mary. I have a book by the Serbian Orthodox saint, Nikolai Velimirovic, entitled "The Prologue of Ohrid" and it has the following information about these saints:

"St. Joachim was of the lineage of Judah and a descendent of King David. Anna was the daughter of Matthan the priest, from the lineage of Levi, as was Aaron the high priest. Matthan had three daughters: Mary, Sophia and Anna. Mary married, lived in Bethlehem and gave birth to Salome; Sophia married, also lived in Bethlehem, and gave birth to Elizabeth, the mother of St. John the Forerunner; Anna married Joachim in Nazareth, and in old age gave birth to Mary, the Most-holy Theotokos [God-bearer]."

In honoring the grandparents of Jesus, we're reminded of the tremendous influence that families have on the development of their children. Joachim and Anne must have been people of deep faith, a faith which they instilled in the sinless Virgin Mary, leading her to surrender completely to God's will at the Annunciation.

A few years ago Pope Benedict had the following to say on this feast:

“This occasion makes us think of the subject of education which has an important place in the pastoral work of the Church. In particular, it invites us to pray for grandparents, who, in the family, are the depositories and often witnesses of the fundamental values of life. The educational task of grandparents is always very important, and it becomes even more so when, for various reasons, the parents are unable to provide their children with an adequate presence while they are growing up. I entrust to the protection of St Anne and St Joachim all the grandparents of the world and bestow on them a special blessing. May the Virgin Mary who … - learned to read the Sacred Scriptures at her mother Anne's knee, help them always to nourish their faith and hope at the sources of the Word of God."

Lastly, though he is deceased, Fr. Al Lauer's wonderfully insightful reflections continue to appear on Presentation Ministries' web site. Today he reminds us that our lives, and every moment of our lives, have eternal significance. This is the meaning of the Daily Offering which unites the moments of our day to the perfect offering of Jesus on the cross and at Mass. Fr. Lauer wrote:

"Many grandparents don't feel they are having much influence on their children and grandchildren. We all feel frustrated by our limitations in impacting the world for Jesus. However, this feast day emphasizes that we have a much greater influence on our families and our world than the devil would have us believe. ... Everything we do for love of Jesus has personal, immediate, communal, international, and eternal significance. We are sons and daughters of God the Father. Our lives, actions, words, time, and decisions can be part of God's awesome plan of salvation."

Amen to that!

St. Crescent

I visited Costa Catholic School, the area grade school which is named after Fr. Joseph Costa, the founder of Corpus Christi Church where I am giving a parish mission. I met with all the students, divided into three groups: First through Third Grades, Fourth and Fifth, and Sixth through Eighth. As I came to the end of my last presentation the local tornado siren went off for a test. I mentioned to the group that the town probably didn't need the siren and then asked them if they knew why. One sixth grade boy answered: "Because of St. Crescent." He was right.

So what's the story of St. Crescent? Around 1838 the body of a nine or ten year old boy was discovered during excavations of the catacombs of St. Cyriacus in Rome. He suffered martyrdom at that young age around the end of the third century in the persecution of the emperor Diocletian, one of the fiercest persecutions of the early Church. His name "Cresces" (anglicized to "Crescent") was on the marble slab that covered the tomb and next to the body was an urn in which had been placed the blood of the martyr now dried.

The body of St. Crescent was removed and the Holy Father gave it to Blessed Antonio Rosmini, founder of the Institute of Charity or Rosminians. Father Rosmini had the relic taken to Stresa, Italy, where it was placed under the altar of his chapel. In 1887, Rosminian Father Joseph Costa asked his superiors if he could have the relic for the church he had just built in Galesburg, Illinois. His superiors agreed.

St. Crescent's body was enclosed in a case of thin glass and Fr. Costa worried that it wouldn't make the long trip to the U.S. without being damaged. He expressed his concern to his superiors, one of whom told him: "St. Crescent will take care of himself, and you too!" And so it happened. The relic survived intact the railroad trips through Italy, France, England, and from New York to Galesburg, but what was more remarkable was his ocean passage. Fr. Costa planned on crossing the Atlantic on a ship called "Alesia." Either because he suddenly changed his mind or because he missed the departure time, Fr. Costa and St. Cresent missed the boat. But the "Alesia" never completed the voyage; it mysteriously disappeared. Fr. Costa along with St. Crescent, having boarded a different ship, arrived safely.

You can see the body of St. Crescent in a glass case on the right side of Corpus Christi church. The bones are covered with wax except for two wounds through which you can see an arm bone and the skull. You can also see the teeth of the martyr through his partially opened mouth.

On Sunday morning I answered the phone in the rectory. It was a young woman who said she happened to be passing through Galesburg and wondered when would be a good time to view the relic, one of only ten entire bodies of a saint in the U.S.

Tradition has it that St. Crescent has kept Galesburg safe from a tornado to this day and will continue to do so.