Caritas Christi Urget Nos

Category: Saints

  • St. Patrick, Bishop

    St. Patrick, Bishop

    Gospel Reading: Matthew 25:31-45

    “And there the Lord opened my mind to an awareness of my unbelief, in order that, even so late, I might remember my transgressions and turn with all my heart to the Lord my God, who had regard for my insignificance and pitied my youth and ignorance. And he watched over me before I knew him, and before I learned sense or even distinguished between good and evil, and he protected me, and consoled me as a father would his son.”

    These are the words St. Patrick uses to begin his famous Confession, something many saints have done. But perhaps none of them has done so in the same style as St. Patrick, he using rather rudimentary Latin to write the work, and being much more brutally honest than you’ll see from most other works of confession. What you get from St. Patrick’s Confession is the life story of a man who was completely taken by love of God and dedication to his mission.

    And, honestly, that he took up the mission at all is a little bit of a miracle. Having been brought to Ireland originally against his will, and finally having been delivered from it, one would think that he would be content to spend his days nearer to his family – who missed him terribly and feared for his life – but that’s not what he did, of course. He didn’t even harbor any bitterness against his first, indentured stay in Ireland. He writes: “Believe me, I didn’t go to Ireland willingly that first time – I almost died here. But it turned out to be good for me in the end, because God used the time to shape and mold me into something better. He made me into what I am now – someone very different from what I once was, someone who can care about others and work to help them. Before I was a slave, I didn’t even care about myself.”

    I think what is compelling for me – maybe for most of us – in the story of St. Patrick is that it is a story of conversion. He writes of an unmentioned sin of his youth, dating from before he was ordained, even before he was living a Christian life. The sin is known to a friend of his – a friend who lobbied for him to become a bishop – who later betrayed him to his superiors. Patrick has long since moved on from where he was at the time this sin was committed, he is an older man now, looking back on youthful indiscretions, and not bearing any ill-will toward those who would rub his nose in it, he thanks God for the strength he has since gained: “So I give thanks to the one who cared for me in all my difficulties, because he allowed me to continue in my chosen mission and the work that Christ my master taught me. More and more I have felt inside myself a great strength because my faith was proven right before God and the whole world.”

    So many of us can look back on the sins and indiscretions of our youth too. That Patrick could do it with gratitude in his heart for the strength God had given him is an example for all of us, a grace that we could all long for especially in these Lenten days of repentance.

    Another thing that comes through so clearly in the Confession is, of course, Patrick’s love for the Irish people and dedication to his mission: “How wonderful it is that here in Ireland a people who never had any knowledge of God – who until now have worshiped idols and impure things – have recently become a people of the Lord and are now called children of God. You can see that the sons and daughters of Irish kings have become brothers and virgins for Christ.” He is in awe of the work God has done among the people since he has given himself to ministry there.

    And the thing is, he could have walked away from Ireland all those years ago and never looked back. Who could have blamed him for distancing himself from the land where he was enslaved, and nearly died? But in the faces of the people of Ireland, he saw the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the ill and imprisoned, and would not walk away. Instead, as the Gospel today directs us all, he ministered to their needs, as far as we know, until his dying day.

    Dedication to the mission is something I always admired in Fr. Mike O’Keefe. He told me often that being a priest was the only thing he ever wanted to do. And he served Christ and his people well in over fifty years of priesthood. I’ll never forget when I wanted to tell him that I was finally going to seminary after many years of his encouragement. I called to make an appointment – which he couldn’t do for three weeks. So, of course, he heard about why I was coming to talk to him in the meantime. When I got there, he said, “I think I know why you’re here, because I had lunch with our vocation director last week. But I’ll let you tell me!”

    During that conversation, he talked about his coming here from Ireland to go to seminary. He went to Mundelein Seminary, where I would be going all these years later. “It was a prison!” he said. Despite that rather dubious encouragement, he wrote a letter of recommendation for me that the rector of the seminary told me was the most beautiful of those letters he remembered reading in all his years of evaluating applicants to the priesthood. Fr. Mike’s continued encouragement of me through my seminary studies helped me to continue to long for the day when, well, when I’d be standing here. A few weeks before my ordination to the priesthood, Fr. Mike asked me to be the deacon for his 50th Anniversary Celebration. Then, just a few weeks later, he was present for my ordination and First Mass. I was so honored to celebrate that time with him.

    Fr. Mike was a gentle, Irish soul who encouraged so many in the faith during his time as a priest. He tried to get me to come to this Irish Mass in the years that I was ordained, to celebrate with him. I had parish duties that kept me away, unfortunately, but he was able to get me here by a little gentle prodding from heaven, and I’m so honored to be here to celebrate my favorite saint, and to celebrate a man who did so much to encourage my vocation.

    St. Patrick had to weather so many storms in his life. He was kidnapped and enslaved, he worked in mission territory among people who at times were hostile to the Christian way of life, he was betrayed by a friend and besieged by fellow clergymen who were jealous of the success of his ministry and critical of the way he did it. But through it all, he was grateful for the power of God at work in him. The faith that led him to be that way was nourished on a strong friendship with God. He’d hear nothing of us showing up here once a year for an Irish Mass. Instead, he’d have us celebrating our Irish heritage through daily communion with our God who longs to bless all our days.

    Some say St. Patrick never wrote his famous “Breastplate” or “Lorica” prayer. Maybe not, but I tend to think it’s the kind of thing he would have prayed, every morning, to remind himself of the source of his blessing, to call on God’s protection, and to prime himself to look for Christ in every person:

    I arise today
    Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
    Through the belief in the threeness,
    Through the confession of the oneness
    Of the Creator of Creation.

    I arise today
    Through the strength of Christ’s birth with his baptism,
    Through the strength of his crucifixion with his burial,
    Through the strength of his resurrection with his ascension,
    Through the strength of his descent for the Judgment Day.

    I arise today
    Through the strength of the love of Cherubim,
    In obedience of angels,
    In the service of archangels,
    In hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
    In prayers of patriarchs,
    In predictions of prophets,
    In preaching of apostles,
    In faith of confessors,
    In innocence of holy virgins,
    In deeds of righteous men.

    I arise today
    Through the strength of heaven:
    Light of sun,
    Radiance of moon,
    Splendor of fire,
    Speed of lightning,
    Swiftness of wind,
    Depth of sea,
    Stability of earth,
    Firmness of rock.

    I arise today
    Through God’s strength to pilot me:
    God’s might to uphold me,
    God’s wisdom to guide me,
    God’s eye to look before me,
    God’s ear to hear me,
    God’s word to speak for me,
    God’s hand to guard me,
    God’s way to lie before me,
    God’s shield to protect me,
    God’s host to save me
    From snares of demons,
    From temptations of vices,
    From everyone who shall wish me ill,
    Afar and anear,
    Alone and in multitude.

    I summon today all these powers between me and those evils,
    Against every cruel merciless power that may oppose my body and soul,
    Against incantations of false prophets,
    Against black laws of pagandom
    Against false laws of heretics,
    Against craft of idolatry,
    Against spells of witches and smiths and wizards,
    Against every knowledge that corrupts man’s body and soul.

    Christ to shield me today
    Against poison, against burning,
    Against drowning, against wounding,
    So that there may come to me abundance of reward.
    Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
    Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
    Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
    Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down, Christ when I arise,
    Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
    Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
    Christ in every eye that sees me,
    Christ in every ear that hears me.

    I arise today
    Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
    Through belief in the threeness,
    Through confession of the oneness,
    Of the Creator of Creation.

    Amen.

  • St. Polycarp, Bishop and Martyr

    St. Polycarp, Bishop and Martyr

    Today’s readings

    St. Polycarp was the bishop of Smyrna and a disciple of the apostles. He is known to have accompanied St. Ignatius of Antioch to Rome to confer with Pope Anicetus concerning the celebration of Easter, which was quite a controversy in that time. He was known to be a man of faith and wisdom, that wisdom of which our first reading speaks: “He has poured her forth upon all his works, upon every living thing according to his bounty; he has lavished her upon his friends.”

    It was wisdom that allowed him, at the age of 86, to accept martyrdom with the peace of a life lived with integrity and in the faith of Jesus Christ. Having been placed in the pyre for his execution, he prayed: “I bless You because You have granted me this day and hour, that I might receive a portion amongst the number of martyrs in the cup of Your Christ unto resurrection of eternal life, both of soul and of body, in the incorruptibility of the Holy Spirit. May I be received among these in Your presence this day, as a rich and acceptable sacrifice, as You did prepare and reveal it beforehand, and have accomplished it, You that art the faithful and true God. For this cause, yea and for all things, I praise You, I bless You, I glorify You, through the eternal and heavenly High-priest, Jesus Christ, Your beloved Son, through Whom, with Him and the Holy Spirit, be glory both now and ever and for the ages to come. Amen.”

    It is said that the flames did not even scorch him, that instead they formed a dome around him, and from it there was a pleasing aroma, like fine incense. He was later executed by being thrust through with a lance, with the praise of God on his lips. I’m not sure I could do that! Like the demon in the Gospel reading that could only be expelled by prayer, a martyrdom that horrible could only be accepted with prayer. And the glory that comes from that sacrifice is life eternal in the kingdom of God. The Wisdom of God leads us to prayer today; may that prayer bear fruit in our lives beyond anything the world can offer us.

  • St. Scholastica, Virgin

    St. Scholastica, Virgin

    Today’s readings: Songs 8:6-7, Psalm 148, Luke 10:38-42

    We are told in the Gospel today that “Mary has taken the better part and it will not be taken from her.” Much the same could be said about St. Scholastica, whose memorial we celebrate today. St. Scholastica is known as the sister of St. Benedict. Some traditions speak of them as twins. St. Gregory tells us that Benedict ruled over both monks and nuns, and it seems as if St. Scholastica was the prioress of the nuns.

    Often times we have heard about siblings who are very close in kinship, particularly if they are twins, so close that they know each other’s thoughts and share each other’s emotions. Not much is known of St. Scholastica except what we have from St. Gregory, and his account tells us of a spiritual kinship between she and Benedict that was extremely close. They would often meet together, but could never do so in their respective cloisters, so each would travel with some of their confreres and meet at a house nearby. On one occasion, the last of these meetings together, they were speaking as they often did of the glories of God and the promise of Heaven. Perhaps knowing that she would not have this opportunity again, Scholastica begged her brother not to leave but to spend the night in this spiritual conversation. Benedict did not like the idea of being outside his monastery for the night, and initially refused. With that, Scholastica laid her head on her hands and asked God to intercede. Her prayer had scarcely ended when a very violent storm arose, preventing Benedict’s return to the monastery. He said: “God forgive you, sister; what have you done?” She replied, “I asked a favor of you and you refused it. I asked it of God, and He has granted it.”

    Three days later, Scholastica died. St. Benedict was alone at the time, and had a vision of his sister’s soul ascending to heaven as a dove. He announced her death to his brethren and then gave praise for her great happiness. Like Mary in today’s Gospel and like St. Scholastica, we are called to spend our days and nights in contemplation of our Lord and discussing his greatness with our brothers and sisters. If we would do this, we too might find as the writer of the Song of Songs that deep waters cannot quench the great love we have for Christ and for our brothers and sisters in Christ.

  • St. Agatha, Virgin and Martyr

    St. Agatha, Virgin and Martyr

    Today’s readings

    Historically speaking, we know almost nothing about St. Agatha other than the fact that she was martyred in Sicily during the persecution of Decius in the third century.  Legend has it that Agatha was arrested as a Christian, tortured and sent to a house of prostitution to be mistreated. She was preserved from being violated, and was later put to death.  When Agatha was arrested, the legend says, she prayed: “Jesus Christ, Lord of all things! You see my heart, you know my desires. Possess all that I am—you alone. I am your sheep; make me worthy to overcome the devil.” And in prison, she said: “Lord, my creator, you have protected me since I was in the cradle. You have taken me from the love of the world and given me patience to suffer. Now receive my spirit.”

    The stories of the early virgin martyrs like Agatha do two things.  First, they remind us of the unsurpassed greatness of a relationship with Christ.  If they could believe in Christ when it would have been so much easier—and life-saving—to do so, then how can we turn away from God in the trying moments of our own lives, those trials which pale in comparison to the martyrdom they suffered?  But even those relatively minor sufferings which we may bear can be the source of our salvation.  We should look to the saints like Agatha to intercede for us that we may patiently bear our sufferings and so give honor and glory to God.  Second, these stories always point to Christ.  Even though we could get caught up in honoring a saint who stood fast for the faith to death, still that same saint would have us instead be caught up in honoring Christ, the one who was their hope and salvation.

    Agatha’s martyrdom is a participation in the “sprinkled Blood that speaks more eloquently than that of Abel” of which the writer of the letters to the Hebrews speaks today.  She was joined inseparably to Christ in both her virginity and her martyrdom.  Her example calls us to join ourselves to Christ inseparably as well, in whatever way we may be called upon to do it.  May our prayer in good times and bad always be the same as that of Agatha:  “Possess all that I am—you alone.”

  • St. Blase, bishop and martyr

    St. Blase, bishop and martyr

    Today’s readings

    st_blaiseAll that we know for sure about St. Blase was that he was the bishop of Sebaste in Armenia during the fourth century.  Everything else is legend, which means that it may or may not be true.  Even if it’s not true, there is Truth in the legend, because it points us to Christ.  St. Blase is, as the author of the letter to the Hebrews says today, one of that “great cloud of witnesses” who helps us to “keep our eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader and perfecter of our faith.”  He was known to take up the work of Jesus the healer, as we see in today’s Gospel.

    The legendary Acts of St. Blase were written 400 years after his death. According to them Blase was a good bishop, working hard to encourage the spiritual and physical health of his people. Because of persecution that still raged throughout Armenia, Blase was apparently forced to flee to the back country. There he lived as a hermit in solitude and prayer, but made friends with the wild animals. One day a group of hunters seeking wild animals for the amphitheater stumbled upon Blase’s cave. They were first surprised and then frightened. The bishop was kneeling in prayer surrounded by patiently waiting wolves, lions and bears.

    As the hunters hauled Blase off to prison, the legend has it, a mother came with her young son who had a fish bone lodged in his throat. At Blase’s command the child was able to cough up the bone.  That is the reason he has become the patron saint of those suffering from diseases of the throat.

    Eventually, Blase was tortured, and when he still refused to sacrifice to pagan gods, he was beheaded in the year 316.  Today we pray in a special way for protection from afflictions of the throat and from other illnesses.  The blessing of St. Blase is a sign of our faith in God’s protection and love for us and for the sick.

    Through the intercession of Saint Blase, bishop and martyr,
    may you be delivered from every disease of the throat
    and from every other illness:

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

    Amen.

  • St. John Bosco

    St. John Bosco

    Today’s readings

    St. John Bosco was a master catechist who knew the importance of living and teaching and handing on the faith that the author of our first reading talked about.  “Faith is the realization of what is hoped for,” the author writes, “and evidence of things not seen.”  John Bosco was a man who lived his faith with conviction.  He was a priest who was concerned with the whole person of the young people he taught: he wanted them to fill both their minds and their souls.

    John was encouraged to enter the priesthood for the specific purpose of teaching young boys and forming them in the faith. He was ordained in 1841. This began with a poor orphan, who John prepared for First Holy Communion. Then he was able to gather a small community and teach them the Catechism. He worked for a time as a chaplain of a hospice for working girls, and later opened an oratory – a kind of school – for boys which had over 150 students. The needs of teaching them also encouraged John to open a publishing house to print the catechetical and educational materials used in the classrooms.

    He was known for his preaching, and that helped him to extend his ministry by forming a religious community – the Salesians – to concentrate on education and mission work in 1859. He later formed a group of Salesian Sisters to teach girls. By teaching children self worth through education and job training, John was able to also teach the children of their own worth in the eyes of God.

    Jesus asks the disciples in today’s Gospel, “Do you not yet have faith?”  It is up to all of us to help people come to faith in Jesus.  St. John Bosco was tireless in his devotion to teaching and forming young people. In today’s Eucharist, may we give thanks for the teachers in our lives, and may we also commend the teachers and catechists of today’s young people to the patronage of St. John Bosco.

  • St. John Neumann

    St. John Neumann

    Today’s readings

    St. John Neumann is one of the first great American saints, the first American archbishop to be beatified.  He is not to be confused with John Henry Cardinal Newman, of state university “Newman Center” fame.

    John Neumann was born in what is now the Czech Republic. After studying in Prague, he came to New York at 25 and was ordained a priest. He did missionary work in New York until he was 29, when he joined the Redemptorists and became its first member to profess vows in the United States. He continued missionary work in Maryland, Virginia and Ohio.  St. John was well-known for his holiness and learning, spiritual writing and preaching.

    In today’s Gospel, Jesus gets on with the work of redemption.  He beings calling people to repentance and to believe in the Gospel.  We are told, “He went around all of Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the Gospel of the Kingdom, and curing every disease and illness among the people.”  St. John Neumann took that seriously, being a kind of apostle for Catholic education in the United States.

    As bishop of Philadelphia, he organized the parochial school system into a diocesan one, increasing the number of pupils almost twentyfold within a short time.  Gifted with outstanding organizing ability, he drew into the city many teaching communities of sisters and the Christian Brothers. During his brief assignment as vice provincial for the Redemptorists, he placed them in the forefront of the parochial movement.

    We owe much to St. John Neumann for his ability to organize Catholic education in this country.  So today we are thankful for our teachers and educators and catechists who over the years have led us all to the faith, and given us a glimpse at the light of Christ.

  • Ss. Basil the Great and Gregory Nazianzen

    Ss. Basil the Great and Gregory Nazianzen

    Today’s readings

    St. Basil the Great was born in Caesarea in Cappadocia in the year 330.  He was known for his learning and virtue, and his fight against the Arian heresy.  He also wrote many wonderful works, the most revered of which is his monastic rule.  He is known as the father of Eastern monasticism.  Gregory Nazianzen was born in the same year.  He too pursued learning and was eventually elected bishop of Constantinople.  Basil and Gregory were friends, and Gregory reflected on their friendship in a sermon, of which I’d like to share some excerpts this morning.

    “Basil and I were both in Athens. We had come, like streams of a river, from the same source in our native land, had separated from each other in pursuit of learning, and were now united again as if by plan, for God so arranged it.

    “I was not alone at that time in my regard for my friend, the great Basil. I knew his irreproachable conduct, and the maturity and wisdom of his conversation. I sought to persuade others, to whom he was less well known, to have the same regard for him. Many fell immediately under his spell, for they had already heard of him by reputation and hearsay.

    “Such was the prelude to our friendship, the kindling of that flame that was to bind us together. In this way we began to feel affection for each other. When, in the course of time, we acknowledged our friendship and recognized that our ambition was a life of true wisdom, we became everything to each other: we shared the same lodging, the same table, the same desires the same goal. Our love for each other grew daily warmer and deeper.

    “Our single object and ambition was virtue, and a life of hope in the blessings that are to come; we wanted to withdraw from this world before we departed from it. With this end in view we ordered our lives and all our actions. We followed the guidance of God’s law and spurred each other on to virtue. If it is not too boastful to say, we found in each other a standard and rule for discerning right from wrong.

    “Different men have different names, which they owe to their parents or to themselves, that is, to their own pursuits and achievements. But our great pursuit, the great name we wanted, was to be Christians, to be called Christians.”

    Like John the Baptist in our Gospel today, Basil and Gregory sought to point the way to Jesus, the one among us whom people do not recognize.  It was their goal to help all to come to know him rightly, to make straight the way of the Lord.

  • The Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph

    The Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph

    Today’s readings

    It’s certainly appropriate that we celebrate the Holy Family today, just a few days after Christmas.  This feast helps to underscore that Jesus came to live among us in a very ordinary way: by taking flesh and becoming one of us, even to being part of a family.  So we look on the manger scenes that still are on display here in church and in our homes, and we see Jesus, Mary and Joseph beginning their lives together.  We  still sing Christmas carols that extol the peace of his coming, we can even come to this church to look at the beautiful statue of the Holy Family.

    Our thoughts about that beautiful family might run along the lines of “how nice for them!”  I’m aware that some families who are here today may have just managed to get here on time, or a little after.  Maybe there was the constant argument with the kids about why they have to go to church.  Or maybe someone wasn’t quite ready on time.  It might have been hard to turn off the television or tear someone away from the Wii they just got for Christmas.  And so, as they hustle in here to church and sit down, maybe the holiness of the family is the furthest thing from their minds.

    So it can be hard to relate, I think, to the Holy Family in some ways.  Maybe you’re thinking, “How do I get one of those?” There are all sorts of families out there: families broken by divorce or separation, families marked by emotional or physical abuse, families fractured by living a great distance apart, families grieving the loss of loved ones or agonizing over the illness of one of the members, families of great means and those touched by poverty, homelessness and hunger, families divided by immigration issues, families torn by family secrets, grudges and age-old hurts. Some are trying to form a family: they want to have children, but are unable.  There are healthy families and hurting families, and every one of them is graced by good and touched by some kind of sadness at some point in their history.

    Even the Holy Family, whose feast we celebrate today, was marked with challenges. An unexpected – and almost inexplicable – pregnancy marked the days before the couple was officially wed; news of the child’s birth touched chords of jealousy and hatred in the hearts of the nation’s leaders and caused the young family to have to flee for their lives and safety. Even this Holy Family was saddened, in some ways, by an extremely rocky beginning.

    The institution of the family is an extremely precarious thing. We know this. God knows this. Yet it was into this flawed structure that the God of all the earth chose to come into our world. Taking our flesh and joining a human family, Christ came to be Emmanuel, God with us, and sanctify the whole world by his most merciful coming.

    St. Paul exhorts us all to be marked by holiness, part of the family of God. We do this, he tells us, by showing one another “heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience, bearing with one another and forgiving one another, if one has a grievance against another; as the Lord has forgiven you, so must you also do.” Living in a family, living the Christian life, requires sacrifice. Some days we don’t feel very compassionate, but we are still called to be that way. We might not feel like showing someone kindness, or patience, or being humble. But that’s what disciples do. But the real sticking point is that whole forgiveness thing. Because all of us are going to fail in compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience at one time or another. So just as the Lord has forgiven us, so many times and of so many things, so must we forgive one another. We live our whole lives trying to figure out how to do this.

    Our Gospel reading gives us some direction and some hope today.  Jesus is brought to the temple as the Jewish tradition held.  An offering is made on his behalf by his parents and they have come to receive a blessing.  The blessing went deeper than they may have imagined, perhaps, but even this was probably not much of a surprise to them at this point.  Here both Simeon and Anna, who have been waiting for this very day all their lives, who have looked faithfully for God’s answer to the problem of sin, have their hopes and dreams fulfilled.  Simeon blesses the three of them and prophesies to Mary that all their days will not be without sadness.  And we all know how the story works out: Simeon was absolutely right about that.  But how disconcerting that must have been to Mary and Joseph who had come with joy to the Temple for this occasion.

    Like I said, this Gospel gives us hope and direction.  Hope by knowing that even this Holy Family had times of sadness in store.  Direction in the faithfulness they have shown one another.  The Gospel ends by saying that they returned to their town and lived their lives, and “The child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom;
    and the favor of God was upon him.”

    Because I think what we’re supposed to be seeing in the Holy Family today is not some kind of idyllic perfection.  Certainly they attained more perfection than any of us could ever possibly hope for in this life, but that’s not what we’re supposed to be focusing on.  What I think is worth focusing on is that, even though they knew there would be hard times ahead for them, they faithfully lived their lives through it all.  They continued to be a family, Jesus continued to grow and become strong in his human nature, and to be filled with wisdom and the favor of God.  And that, for us, is something worth striving for.  Being perfect might seem impossible, but being faithful is possible and it leads us to holiness.

    For Jesus, Mary and Joseph, their faithfulness helped them to absorb the challenges of an unplanned pregnancy and the dangers of oppression from the government, and still shed light on the whole world.  For us, faithfulness can help us to get through whatever rough spots life may have in store for us and not break apart.

    I am aware, however, that as I speak about faithfulness, that it all can still seem insurmountable. Why should you be faithful when the hurts inflicted by other members of your family still linger? That’s a hard one to address, but we’re not told to be faithful just when everyone else is faithful. Sometimes we are called to make an almost unilateral decision to love and respect the others in our families, and let God worry about the equity of it all. I know that’s easier to say than to do, but please you have your Church family to support you with prayer and love as you do it.

    Every single one of us is called to be holy, brothers and sisters. And every single one of our families is called to be holy. That doesn’t mean that we will be perfect. Some days we will be quite far from it. But it does mean that we will be faithful in love and respect. It means that we will unite ourselves to God in prayer and worship. It means we will love when loving is hard to do. Mary loved Jesus all the way to the Cross and watched him die. What we see in the model of the Holy Family for us is not perfection, but faithfulness and holiness.

    That holiness will make demands of us. It did for Jesus, Mary and Joseph.  Simeon and Anna were quite clear that sorrow lay in store for them.  But they continued to live their lives, aided by the Spirit of God, and they all grew strong in wisdom and grace.  Those same blessings are intended for us to, all of us who do our best to live according to the Spirit in our own human families, no matter what those families may look like.

  • St. John, Apostle and Evangelist

    St. John, Apostle and Evangelist

    Today’s readings

    “He saw and believed.” The “other” disciple, often called the “beloved” disciple or the disciple “whom Jesus loved,” is St. John the Apostle and Evangelist, the one we celebrate today. St. John had a very special relationship with Christ. He wasn’t as zealous and boisterous as Peter could be, but he had a faith as strong as Peter’s in his own way. His was a faith that observed and processed and believed. His was a faith that grew quietly, as he made connections between what Jesus prophesied and what came to pass. It’s no wonder that when he stood at the tomb, “he saw and believed.”

    In John’s writings, the theme of love is almost overwhelming. We hear that in today’s first reading, from John’s first letter. That love is bound up in the whole theme of fleshly existence. John proclaims that because God loved the world so much, he could not bear to be apart from us or aloof from our nature. Instead, he took on our fleshly existence, this body that can so often fail us, can so often turn to sin and degradation, can so often lead us in the wrong direction. Taking on that flawed human flesh, God proclaims once and for all that we have been created good, that we have been created in love, and that nothing can ever stand in the way of the love God has for us.

    John’s preaching of love and the goodness of our created bodies is a preaching that has a very special place in the celebration of Christmas. It was because of that love that God had for us, a love that encompasses our bodies and our souls, that he came to live among us and take flesh in our world. His most merciful coming was completely part of his loving plan for our salvation. That’s the message St. John brings us on his feast day today, and throughout this celebration of Christmas.