 Today, on the Memorial of Our Lady of the Rosary, we are reminded of the important role that the rosary plays in our daily lives. It is a form of prayer that we seek when we are struggling and need the comforting embrace of a mother. It is a form of prayer that is joyful, celebrating our successes with Christ through Mary. Devotions to Mary have always been an important aspect of my faith. In particular, the rosary has helped me through many tough times in my life and given me the strength to continue forming my life to Christ, but its importance was reinforced in the first few months of my college career when I joined the Knights of Columbus. Upon entering the Order, Knights are given a rosary as a symbol of our devotion to Mary and a reality of our reliance on her example and her intercession with God But why should we say the rosary? Saint John Paul II gives a clear picture of the rosary’s importance: “The Rosary mystically transports us to Mary's side as she is busy watching over the human growth of Christ in the home of Nazareth. This enables her to train us and to mold us with the same care, until Christ is “fully formed” in us.” When we pray the rosary, many of us are seeking the warm embrace of a mother, someone who can reassure us in our fears and give us the strength to live out each day for Christ. Mary is our mother in every sense of that word. Christ, moments from death, says to Mary, “Behold, your son,” and to the disciple whom he loved, “Behold, your mother.” With these words Christ gives Mary to all of us as our mother, the Mother of the Church, and with these words we are formed by her just as Christ was. The rosary does not pull our attention away from Christ, but rather joins us with him through our love of Mary. John Paul II tells us in Rosarium Virginis Mariae, “Never as in the Rosary do the life of Jesus and that of Mary appear so deeply joined. Mary lives only in Christ and for Christ!” The rosary allows us to participate in that union and calls us to share in the life of Christ through our relationship with his Mother. Each time we pray the rosary we focus on the Joyful, Sorrowful, Glorious, or Luminous mysteries. These are not only drawing us closer to Mary, but to the life of Christ as each set of mysteries is grounded in the Gospel. When we pray the rosary we do not just repeat prayers over and over again, but rather we are given the opportunity to live out a different aspect of the life of Christ with each decade. Repetition is an important aspect of the rosary, but is it actually repetition? Archbishop Fulton Sheen in his book “The World’s First Love” tells us that it is not repetition for each time we say the rosary, “we are saying to God, the Trinity, to the Incarnate Saviour, to the Blessed Mother: "I love you, I love you, I love you." Each time it means something different, because, at each decade, our mind is moving to a new demonstration of the Saviour's love.” Who better to remind us of the Christ’s love than Mary, the Mother of God, our mother, who raised Jesus, formed him, and followed him. Who better to emulate than Mary, who watched her son suffer and die on the cross for our salvation. Each time we say the rosary we are embraced by our mother, we are renewed in our faith, and we are reminded of God’s love. “Remember, O most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, or sought thine intercession was left unaided. Inspired by this confidence, I fly unto thee, O Virgin of virgins, my mother; to thee do I come, before thee I stand, sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in thy mercy hear and answer me. Amen.” *This post was originally published October 7th, 2024* AuthorNicholas Shields is a young professional from Washington, D.C.
0 Comments
 In thirty-three days, the citizens of our country will go to the polls to elect the next President and Vice-President of the United States, their representatives to Congress, and in some cases, state and local officials. To encourage and support our engagement in politics, our bishops wrote Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship – A Call to Political Responsibility (approved in November 2015, and the new introductory note November 2023, at their Plenary Assembly). This document is a gift, too often left unwrapped or under appreciated, that will deepen our faith, challenge us to be more responsible, and free us to build, in the words of Pope Benedict, a “civilization of love.” Citizenship gives us the opportunity to work for justice. According to the document, “The work for justice requires that the mind and the heart of Catholics be educated and formed to know and practice the whole faith” (para 4). We have the responsibility, the opportunity, and the capacity “to hear, receive, and act upon Church’s teaching in the lifelong task of forming” our conscience, a conscience grounded in four basic principles of Catholic social doctrine: the dignity of the human person, the common good, subsidiarity, and solidarity (para 5). We enter politics with the power of conscience. The bishops tell us, “Conscience is the voice of God resounding in the human heart, revealing the truth to us and calling us to do what is good while shunning what is evil” (para 17). God gives us the ability to know the difference between good and evil, the intelligence to grasp reality, the capacity to weigh moral options, and the virtues necessary to act. The document also says that, “Decisions about political life are complex and require the exercise of a well-formed conscience aided by prudence” (para 31). Our faith is our greatest gift. It is a gift God gives to us, personally, through others. We spend our lives immersed in it so that we can say with Saint Paul, “yet I live, no longer I, but Christ lives in me; insofar as I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God who has loved me and given himself up for me” (Galatians 2:20). Every gift evokes a response. I think of the iPad my wife, Barbara, gave to me for my birthday. Over months, even years, I learned what it could do. Facebook helped me keep up with our grandchildren. I could read books or watch movies on planes. Eventually, I had video calls over Zoom. The iPad is now obsolete, but what it gave me remains and I can build on these lessons. In a similar way, we deepen our faith. What does the dignity of the human person mean as we face the challenges of reproductive rights, poverty, migration, criminal justice, gun violence, and care for the earth? We must do the work. What is the reality we face? Where do we get our information? How do we account for bias and regrettably, misinformation? It is demanding work. As Jesus taught us, we need to “go the extra mile.” The bishops encourage the faithful – including themselves – “to examine candidate’s positions on issues affecting human life and dignity as well as issues of justice and peace, and they should consider candidates’ integrity, philosophy, and performance” (para 41). We need to “see beyond party politics, to analyze campaign rhetoric critically, and to choose” our political leaders “according to principle, not party affiliation or mere self-interest” (para 41). This gives us tremendous freedom and unlimited opportunity to build a civilization of love. First, we must see other Catholics as sisters and brothers in the Lord, not as political rivals. For example, “We are not factions, but one family of faith fulfilling the mission of Christ” (para 29). Second, we cannot be “single issue” voters. Our belief in the dignity of human life, from conception until natural death, “is not one issue among many,” and we cannot misuse these moral distinctions to dismiss or ignore “other serious threats to human life and dignity” (para 29). Each conversation, each issue facing the common good, is an opportunity – with charity and justice – to a renewed politics focused on principles rather than polls, the needs of the weak rather than the benefits of the strong, and the pursuit of the common good rather than the demands of narrow interests (para 61). God gives us life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Let us use these gifts to be faithful, responsible, and free followers of Jesus committed to a civilization of love this year and every year. Like the bishops tell us, “This kind of political participation reflects the social teaching of our Church and the best traditions of our nation” (para 62).
 We are neighbors to all. Each person is created in the image and likeness of God. Our Savior, Jesus Christ, calls us to love our neighbor. The parable of the Good Samaritan is clear, everyone is our neighbor (Luke 10:25-37). Pope Francis in his Encyclical Letter, Fratelli Tutti, which uses this parable as a guiding image, says: “If every human being possesses an inalienable dignity, if all people are my brothers and sisters, and if the world truly belongs to everyone, then it matters little whether my neighbor was born in my country or elsewhere” (125). We are called to love our neighbor as ourselves (cf. Mark 12:29). Love, according to St. Thomas Aquinas, is “willing the good of the other.” As Christians, we will the good of the other, even if others do not will our good. This is not the way the world tends to function, though. Too often, we divide in various ways. Such division is not what Christ wants of us, especially within the Church, as well as among all humanity. He prayed that we “may be one” (John 17:21). Pope Francis, in Fratelli Tutti, puts it this way: “Love, then, is more than just a series of benevolent actions. Those actions have their source in a union increasingly directed towards others, considering them of value, worthy, pleasing and beautiful apart from their physical or moral appearances. Our love for others, for who they are, moves us to seek the best for their lives. Only by cultivating this way of relating to one another will we make possible a social friendship that excludes no one and a fraternity that is open to all” (94). May the charity of Christ urge us on! In God, the Infinite Love, Fr. Frank
 “Serve the Lord with laughter.” It’s a quote from a favorite and incredibly popular saint that might surprise us, for the man who spoke these words was so deep, profound, and intentional that we might overlook the fact that he laughed. When we think of St. Padre Pio, we often instead focus on the deep wounds in his hands—the stigmata which he bore for 50 years—or his ability to levitate, speak with his guardian angel, read souls, or bilocate. Laughter seems too ordinary, perhaps, for sanctity. And yet, as a practical jokester and manager of mischief, I am drawn to this quote deeply—for I feel a personal apostolate of joy and am experiencing that call more starkly in a season in my life marked by exhaustion, stress, and transition. Some of my favorite saints and quotes from Scripture focus on the theme of joy. When asked to speak to a group at Theology on Tap several years ago, I chose “The Serious Call to Joy” as my topic. I love Psalm 34, which reads, “Look to him that you may be radiant with joy.” And I often meditate on Christ’s words to his disciples: “I have said these things to you, so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete” (Jn 15:11). Finally, a patron of our family is St. Philip Neri, who was lovingly nicknamed “Apostle of Joy.” My son John Philip was even born on his feast day and shares his name. When I think of what I want to be called after my death, I can’t think of anything better than that title given to St. Philip Neri (apart from, perhaps, being known as the Patron Saint of Bacon). To me, joy just seems like the natural fruit of holiness—a sure sign of a deep and profound relationship with Christ. Pope Francis himself has noted this—dedicating an entire encyclical to the joy of the Gospel. He made waves when publishing the encyclical because he said there was no room in evangelization for “sourpusses”—the first time any such term has appeared in a papal document. He explains, “Proclaiming Christ means showing that to believe in and to follow him is not only something right and true, but also something beautiful, capable of filling life with new splendor and profound joy, even in the midst of difficulties.” I think now of joy perhaps because I’m seeing so little of it in general. The world seems bogged down by burdens greater than we think we can bear. And being 8 months pregnant, I find myself a bit bogged down physically and emotionally, too. But, Pope Francis reminds us that the joy of Christ is possible even in the midst of our suffering and hardship. This does not diminish our suffering, nor does it erase or ignore it, but points out that Christian joy can transcend and transfigure suffering. So, when I came across Padre Pio’s quote on his feast day earlier this month, it was a powerful reminder of my call to laughter—or at least of my commitment to being an apostle of joy. Pope Francis continues, “Joy adapts and changes, but it always endures, even as a flicker of light born of our personal certainty that, when everything is said and done, we are infinitely loved.” (EG, 6) The knowledge that I am infinitely loved despite my frailty and littleness, especially in this season of pregnancy, is what beckons me ever onward. If I think of my life right now, I don’t know how else to keep going other than by laughing. I look down to find crumbs and stains dotting my bulging belly. My goal most days is not to waddle while walking. I find myself stopping mid-sentence because I forgot my train of thought or walking into a room to get something just to leave puzzled, muttering to myself. Turning over in bed practically requires the use of a crane. And I face my staircase each day with the determination of one climbing Mt. Everest. Humor aside, if we turn to Scripture, we find a love story saturated with calls and invitations to joy. From the Old Testament to the New, God speaks to us throughout salvation history because he wants to restore his creation to be “man fully alive.” For me, someone who is “fully alive” is a person of joy that radiates love wherever they go. As our world and society continue to navigate times of hardship, transition, and injustice, and as you personally continue to navigate your own crosses (whether they be staircases or not), I invite you to ask St. Padre Pio and other holy men and women to help teach you the secret of joy that comes from “the certainty that Jesus is with us and with the Father.” May we all become apostles and ambassadors of joy to a world thirsting for Christ’s love and may we find creative and nourishing ways to serve the Lord with laughter. As Pope Francis quotes Paul VI saying, “Let us recover and deepen our enthusiasm, that ‘delightful and comforting joy of evangelizing, even when it is in tears that we must sow… And may the world of our time, which is searching, sometimes with anguish, sometimes with hope, be enabled to receive the good news not from evangelizers who are dejected, discouraged, impatient or anxious, but from ministers of the Gospel whose lives glow with fervor, who have first received the joy of Christ.[6]’” *This post was originally published September 30th, 2021*
 St. Vincent Pallotti said, “Seek God and you will find God. Seek God in all things and you will find God in all things. Seek God always and you will always find God.” When I was in high school, this was used as a call and response to get the lunchroom or assembly to be quiet. In hindsight, it is pretty sad that we took such beautiful words and reduced them to a bit of a Pavlovian response to get high schoolers to zip it, but I digress. At the heart of Pallotti’s sentiment is this: God is everywhere (this is the Jesuit side of Pallotti coming out) and all we have to do to find him is open our eyes and our hearts and look for him. I have been sitting with this strange scene that is a mix of a drama movie and spiritual writing. I imagine two people talking after some form of suffering, maybe it is raining for cinematic effect, with one looking at the other and saying, “how can you endure _____ and still see love?” The other person, after a pause, responds, “how can I not? It is like opening your eyes on a clear day and trying not to see the sunlight. All there is around me is love. Every color, shape, and composite thing radiates the love of God. It is inexplicable, but I can’t really explain seeing the light either- it simply is. And so too, in an even deeper way, is the infinite love of God.” I have not played out the rest of the script, but I do not think I will write the whole movie anyways. We live in, to say it in highly a-theological language, a pretty messed up world. War, violence, natural disasters, poverty, and so much more make it hard to watch the news and, somewhat understandably, hard for people to look at that seemingly endless void of evil and see a God, let alone the Christian God who is infinite love. And yet, as friends and followers of Jesus, we are invited to open our eyes and to see love all around us. Yes, it is difficult, but it is necessary when our context is the cross and resurrection of Jesus Christ. In the last few weeks, I have faced the loss of a friend, accompanied some of my students through their own loss, and more of the normal ups and downs of life. It has not been easy, and yet when I open my eyes, once the dust settles and I have a chance to remember who I am and where I am, all I see is love. I am aware, though, that this is a conscious choice. The easiest thing is to see the suffering and to sit in it. As I said in my last post, suffering is a guarantee in life. If that is all we see, life looks bleak and even meaningless. If we see love, we realize that suffering can have meaning in our lives and that death and sin do not have the final say. Today and every day, regardless of where you find yourself, what you endure, and how you are feeling, let us follow Pallotti’s model and seek God, because when we do, we will realize that he is all around us and the only thing we can see if we choose to look for Him.
 On September 14th, we celebrate the feast day of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. In the Gospel of John, Jesus tells us: “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life from one's friends” (John 15:13). That love is never more evident than our Lord's passion and death on the Cross. By that Holy Cross, we have been redeemed. Jesus Christ foretold his Passion to the Apostles, instituted the Eucharist at the Last Supper, and fulfilled God's plan for human salvation at Calvary upon that Holy Cross. This, my friends, is the greatest love ever known to humankind; by the grace of God, we will come to know the fullness of God's love in eternity. The promise of eternal salvation was made possible upon that Cross and we, as Catholics, are called to pick up our cross and follow Christ daily. This is a very hard thing to accomplish in today's world. Jesus gave us the Holy Spirit at Pentecost to guide and strengthen us while following his commands. Paul tells us: “I have the strength for everything through him who empowers me” (Philippians 4:13). Jesus Christ empowers us with the Holy Spirit today just as he did with the Apostles. It is exactly that God-given power that we need in today’s often secular world to preach Christ crucified and “fight the good fight,” as St. Paul says. For if we profess Christ without recognizing and living his sacrifice on the Cross, we cannot be disciples of the Lord. Peter found that out when Jesus admonished him after the foretelling of his passion and death. I keep written on my desk calendar in my office and in my daily liturgical calendar, a Latin phrase that I think summarizes this idea: Lex orandi, Lex credendi, Lex vivendi - As we worship, So we believe, So we live. As we worship, so we believe, so we live. We must, through worship and prayer, “Love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind” (Matthew 22:37). We must believe all that Jesus has taught us, that he is our Lord and Savior, and that he suffered and died so that we may live. We must live out our faith in what Jesus has called us to do by spreading the good news and picking up our cross and following our Lord. This is not an easy task. It isn't easy being a Christian. Christ never said it would be easy. Being a Christian is not just being a member of a religion, it is our way of life. We live the faith Christ gave to us. When we struggle with this, when we get lazy or complacent with our prayer time, or if we need a reminder of just how much we are loved and what our calling is, we need only to gaze upon the Holy Cross. We can also reflect on the Prophet Isaiah, when he told us exactly what Christ has done for us and for the salvation of man: "Yet it was our pain that he bore, our sufferings he endured. We thought of him as stricken, struck down by God and afflicted, but he was pierced for our sins, crushed for our iniquity. He bore the punishment that makes us whole, by his wounds we were healed" (Isaiah 53:4-5). Brothers and sisters in Christ, we celebrate the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross.” Remember, worship, believe, and live in the glory of Christ crucified. *This post was originally published on September 11th, 2014* AuthorMark A. Straub Sr. is a member of the Knights of Columbus and president of the parish council of Our Lady of the Woods Parish in Woodhaven, Michigan.
 As you may know, we are in the final phase of the National Eucharistic Revival, “a three-year initiative sponsored by the Bishops of the United States to inspire and prepare the People of God to be formed, healed, converted, united, and sent out to a hurting and hungry world through a renewed encounter with Jesus in the Eucharist – the source and summit of our Catholic faith”. This initiative is a response to the Holy Father’s call for a “pastoral and missionary conversion which cannot leave things as they presently are” so that the Church in the United States might be “permanently in a state of mission” (Evangelii Gaudium, 25). This final phase known as the “Year of Mission” is a response to the preceding stages of diocesan and parish revival as well as the National Eucharistic Congress that was held July 17-21, 2024. One beautiful expression of this missionary dimension of the Eucharistic Revival was the National Eucharistic Pilgrimage that took place leading up to the National Eucharistic Congress. The first of its kind, and one of the largest Eucharistic processions in history, consisted of four routes beginning at the northern, southern, eastern, and western parts of the United States. The routes formed the shape of a cross as pilgrims journeyed with the Blessed Sacrament across the whole country, blessing over 6,000 miles of our nation. Participants in the pilgrimage attended Mass every day of their journey and had regular evenings of reflection and adoration. After traveling for about two months, all four branches of the Pilgrimage met in Indianapolis for the National Eucharistic Congress. I was privileged to join a moment of the National Eucharistic Pilgrimage along the northern route, known as the Marian route, which began at the headwaters of the Mississippi and wound its way through the midwestern United States. As the pilgrimage passed through Notre Dame, IN over the course of a weekend, I was able to attend a couple of the specially planned events. One was a musical entitled “Behold God’s Love: A Eucharistic Musical,” which drew inspiration from mystery plays performed on the feast of Corpus Christi (the Body and Blood of Christ) in the Middle Ages. These plays presented moments from salvation history. The other special event was Sunday Mass in the Basilica of the Sacred Heart followed by a procession around the university’s campus, culminating in Benediction offered from the steps of the Main Building. It was such a gift to join pilgrims, some of whom had been part of the route from the beginning, in a tangible manifestation of our life as “the pilgrim Church on earth”, the people of God on their way to their heavenly homeland. It provided an opportunity to reflect in a special way on one of the many names with which we refer to the Eucharist, one that evokes a certain aspect of the “inexhaustible richness of this sacrament” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1328). Viaticum, a Latin word that means provision for the journey, is a particularly fitting name to contemplate in the context of this pilgrimage, as the Eucharist is the spiritual food which sustains and nourishes us. Certainly, it was the source of sustenance for those making the cross-country journey over the course of several weeks. Yet this pilgrimage (and all pilgrimages) was undertaken to call to mind our common human condition as those marching onward “ ‘following the narrow way of the cross,’ toward the heavenly banquet” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1344), when we can all be seated at the table of the Kingdom of God. The Eucharist as viaticum gives us the graces we need for each day as we advance along our earthly pilgrimage. Each step of the National Eucharistic Pilgrimage reminds us that our entire lives and every place in which we find ourselves can be holy, consecrated by the presence of our Lord. When we receive the Lord in the Eucharist and accept the call to be sent forth on mission to every part of the world, we experience “a foretaste of that heavenly liturgy which is celebrated in the Holy City of Jerusalem toward which we journey as pilgrims, where Christ is sitting at the right hand of God, Minister of the sanctuary and of the true tabernacle” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1090). The National Eucharistic Pilgrimage, whether or not you were able to join it, shows a visible bond of communion that assures “the unity of the pilgrim Church” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 815) and reminds us that we do not have to journey to far-off holy places to go on mission. Every place our feet touch can be holy ground if, as we tread it, we seek to draw ever closer to our Eucharistic Lord, who longs to make himself present to us and to all, not only in the Mass, but in every moment.
 I did not have a chance to attend the Eucharistic Congress last month. However, I did have the pleasure of reading the book For the Life of the World: Invited to Eucharistic Mission by Bishop Andrew Cozzens and Tim Glemkowski. The book outlines four essential pillars to being a Eucharistic missionary: Eucharistic encounter, Eucharistic identity, Eucharistic life, and Eucharistic mission. On the feast of St. Teresa of Calcutta, a great example of a Eucharistic missionary, let us seek her intercession to bear a Eucharistic presence in the world! Eucharistic Encounter The life of a Eucharistic missionary starts with an encounter. We are reminded of what Pope Benedict XVI said in his encyclical Deus Caritas Est (God is Love), “Being Christian is not the result of an ethical choice or a lofty idea, but the encounter with an event, a person, which gives life a new horizon and a decisive direction,” (no. 1). Bishop Cozzens notes four essential elements to an encounter with Jesus: realizing that Jesus is God, experiencing one’s own unworthiness, discovery that one is intimately loved, and being invited to follow him in a new life. We see these elements unfold in St. Teresa’s own life when she encountered Jesus in the poor. Eucharistic Identity Our identity is essential to our mission. Bishop Cozzens noted that Jesus never had an identity crisis. Before Jesus began his public ministry, he submitted himself to God to be baptized. Bishop Cozzens highlights three essential principles to Eucharisic identity: relationship, identity, and mission. He writes, “This is the basic point: We were created by God to be in relationship, and from our relationship we know who we are — our identity. When we know who we are, then we know how we should act and what we should do — our mission,” (pg. 50). When St. Teresa encountered Jesus in the poor, she experienced a call within a call: to assume a new identity by leaving the Sisters of Loretto and founding the Missionaries of Charity. Eucharistic Life We are called to a Eucharistic life, to be in communion with Christ. Bishop Cozzens notes that this communion with Christ is how we mark ourselves as the Church. Fr. Roger Landry in a 2022 article in the National Catholic Register entitled, “The Eucharistic Life of St. Teresa of Calcutta,” noted how St. Teresa compared the Missionaries of Charity’s work to the Blessed Mother: “Every Holy Communion fills us with Jesus and we must, with our Lady, go in haste to give him to others. For her, it was on her first Holy Communion day that Jesus came into her life and so for all of us, also. He made himself the Bread of Life so that we too, like Mary, become full of Jesus. We too, like her, should be in haste to give him to others. We too, like her, serve others.” We receive Jesus in the Eucharist at Mass, and we are called to give him to others through a life of service. Bishop Cozzens explains that receiving Holy Communion is a covenantal act. “This is why we say ‘Amen,’ which is a covenantal act. To receive Holy Communion is to say: ‘I want to live in this covenant with you. I want to live in communion with you, Lord.’ This means I must also live in communion with the Church, Christ’s Body,” (pg. 62). Eucharistic Mission The Church, in her essence, is missionary. Bishop Cozzens notes that our mission was not invented or decided by us, rather given to us from Jesus. This mission is ad gentes or “to the nations”. The challenge today is that we no longer live in a Christian world. Pope Francis, in a 2019 address to the Roman Curia, said, “We are no longer living in a Christian world, because faith – especially in Europe, but also in a large part of the West – is no longer an evident presupposition of social life; indeed, faith is often rejected, derided, marginalized and ridiculed.” We, who have experienced an encounter with Christ, whose identity has been revealed through this encounter, and who have been called to share in this Eucharistic life, are to be a beacon of light to those who have fallen away from their faith or have never experienced Christ. St. Teresa once said, “We must know that we have been created for greater things, not just to be a number in the world, not just to go for diplomas and degrees, this work and that work. We have been created in order to love and to be loved.” This is what it means to be a Eucharistic missionary. St. Teresa of Calcutta, pray for us!
 Do you have a favorite saint? As Catholics we enjoy the “communion of saints,” a treasure trove of ancestors in the faith, who “intercede with the Father for us, as they proffer the merits which they acquired on earth through the one mediator between God and men, Christ Jesus.” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 956). They learned from Jesus, were perfected through their love for him, and offer their wisdom to us and our struggles to God. One of my favorite saints is Gregory the Great (540-604). I was 44 when I met St. Gregory. I was preparing to teach an introduction to pastoral ministry class to seminarians. At the time, psychology and sociology shaped pastoral care. St. Gregory offered an accessible, faithful, and practical approach. My students loved him. St. Gregory was born into a wealthy family in Rome. By his early 30’s, he was Prefect of Rome – like a city manager – responsible for roads, aqueducts, and safety. After his father died, he resigned his position, gave away his vast estates, converted his family home into a monastery (Saint Andrew’s), and became a monk. Eventually, the Pope called him into service, made him his personal envoy to Emperor Tiberius, and then returned to Rome to be Abbot. In 590, after a terrible flood, the pope died, and the people elected Gregory to be pope. He resisted and appealed to the emperor who denied his request. He was consecrated pope on September 3, 590. St. Gregory has been, and continues to be, a blessing to me. Here are five lessons I learned from St. Gregory.
St. Gregory lived during turbulent times. We live during turbulent times. St. Gregory rooted himself in scripture and scripture infused his personal prayer and celebration of the Eucharist, his approach to the moral life, his care for others, and his passion for mission. Perhaps these merits drawn from his life can do the same for us. St. Gregory, pray for us!
 Recently the Knights of Columbus concluded its 142nd Supreme Convention, which took place in Quebec City, Canada. Over 2,500 Knights and family members gathered to pray together, celebrate past accomplishments, and be renewed in their fraternal zeal to forward the mission of the Order’s founder, Blessed Michael McGivney. I have had the pleasure of attending this international event several times, along with my brother knights and families from the District of Columbia, and this year my wife and I were able to bring our son with us for the first time. The centerpiece of each year’s convention is the annual report of the Supreme Knight, where he not only reviews the past year’s accomplishments, but also delivers a pertinent message. This year, the Supreme Knight challenged us to remain “On Mission.” This phrase is no stranger to me, or anyone associated with the Center, as it was chosen as the name of our premier podcast. I couldn’t help but smile as this phrase I have heard, and have taken to heart, was being used in another organization that I have dedicated so much time and energy to. Supreme Knight Patrick Kelly reminded us that it is our duty as Catholics to witness the hope that comes from Jesus Christ. It was what led Blessed Michael McGivney, a parish priest, to found the Knights of Columbus – that through the small group that banded together at the Order’s founding, the Lord would do great things. This phrase of being “On Mission” has centered me over the years, especially with regards to my formation as a Catholic man – first as a college student figuring out his way in the world, then as a young adult venturing in the workspace, and now as a husband and father. It ties everything back to our baptismal call as Catholics – to go forth and to serve, to evangelize, and to bring others closer to Christ and his Church. This mission may sound lofty, unattainable, or even overwhelming. How can I do all of this and still be of the world? Isn’t this something for the theologians, the priests, and the religious who devote their entire lives to this mission? In short, the answer is no. Groups like the Knights of Columbus, and indeed the Catholic Apostolate Center, are here to make this mission that we have been given easier to accomplish. The work will never be finished. However, we can continue to remain On Mission together, not alone. Through the resources and guidance that places like the Center provide and through the fraternity that groups like the Knights of Columbus provide, we can make this mission not only attainable, but perhaps even accomplished. In conclusion, I leave you with the encouragement to not go on this mission alone. I believe Supreme Knight Patrick Kelly sums it up best: “…we trust in the Living God who holds the future in his hands. He will guide us, as he did our forefathers. And like them, he calls us to go on mission.”
 Formation for mission is for Christ’s mission, not ours. It is not “my ministry,” “my apostolate,” or “my mission.” A disciple of Christ does not speak in this way. It is Christ’s mission that we are given a share in through Baptism – his mission as priest, prophet, and king (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1241). Keeping ourselves centered on Christ is done through prayer and formation. Formation as a missionary disciple or apostle of Christ is ongoing and lifelong. Only after our last breath on this side of life, we will be finished in our formation for mission. As members of the Body of Christ, the Church, we are sent forth for him so that others may come to encounter Christ through what we say and do. The witness of the baptized matters. Many can come to Christ through our sharing in his mission and many can be driven away from Christ if we make it “my mission.” Our personal mission is fleeting, Christ’s is eternal. Where the “my” comes in is when we discern how we are called to live our share in the mission of Christ. That is personal and unique for each one of us. Each of us is gifted by the Holy Spirit with charisms and talents that can serve the Church and the world in a way that can bring others to deeper encounter with Christ in and through his Church. Where the “my” also enters in is through our forming others for mission, not as our followers, but as apostles of Christ who are sent for him. Forming for mission takes time, commitment, effort, prayer, and the grace of God. We at Catholic Apostolate Center invite you to use our resources to assist in formation of you and others as apostles of Christ for the Church and for world. May the charity of Christ urge us on! In God, the Infinite Love, Fr. Frank
 The Eucharistic Revival (2022-2024), with the Eucharistic Congress this past July in Indianapolis, revived, expanded, and deepened my love for the Eucharist – and in some surprising ways. “The heart of the Eucharistic celebration are the bread and wine that, by the words of Christ and the invocation of the Holy Spirit, become Christ’s Body and Blood.” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, paragraph 1333). We believe the “substance” of the bread and wine are changed into the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, of Jesus. And yet, the bread and the wine – the outward signs – “continue to signify the goodness of creation.” I want to share with you three outward signs of my revived love for the Eucharist. First, there is Adoration. I was 11 years old when Vatican II ended. I remember benediction and recall going to 40 hours in front of the Blessed Sacrament. As I grew in faith, I was drawn much more to Scripture. I would read, study, and pray with the Bible. Adoration was not an outward sign until the Eucharistic Revival. One day, over breakfast before a meeting, I was talking to my friend in mission, Diane. She shared her practice of Adoration. Once a week, she would go to adoration, where she listened to what the Lord had to say and journaled what she heard. It changed her life and paved the way for her dedication to mission. Previously, I was resistant to Adoration. My wife and I went to adoration during the March for Life and found it loud and off-putting. It felt more like a praise and worship service than adoring Jesus in the Eucharist. In the hour-plus we had committed to, there was less than 10 minutes of silence. But Diane’s simple, almost matter of fact, witness to the power of Adoration broke through my resistance. A few weeks after my conversation with Diane, I met missionaries for a weekday Mass. I arrived early and found myself sitting near the tabernacle. As I was praying, I “heard” a distinct invitation to “come closer.” As I approached, I noticed chairs before the tabernacle. I sat and pondered the simplicity, and the profundity, of the Eucharist. I love movies and images. Jesus of Nazareth, The Passion of Christ, and The Chosen are moving films on the life of Jesus. I have many images of Jesus that are like photos of a dear friend. And yet, with all the connection these evoke in me, they are nothing compared to the Eucharist. I may be deeply moved by the crucifix hanging above the altar – like the San Damiano Cross that sparked the conversion of St. Francis of Assisi – but it is nothing compared to the Eucharist. They all point to Jesus. The Eucharist is Jesus. Second, I prepare for Mass. I fast and pray with the Sunday Readings. I listen to Bishop Barron’s homily or other homilists. I review the past week – both highs and lows – and consider the week ahead. These prayers, along with our financial gift, become my offering. This is how I bring “all that I have” to the Lord and, joining with others, offer the simple gifts of bread and wine – fruit of the earth, and work of human hands. Third, I participate in Mass on a deeper level. Since I pray the Sunday Readings before Mass, I listen much better. The readings become like a Lectio Divina. What am I noticing while hearing this? What is the Lord saying to me, now, in this Mass about who I am and who he is calling me to become? Having heard other homilies, I am curious – and frequently surprised – at a totally different message as I listen closely to the homily. There is only one Word of God, but no number of words can exhaust him. I am also more attentive to the priest. He prays over the bread and wine – “send down your Spirit like the dewfall, so that they may become for us the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Through the “words of institution,” I join with Jesus and his apostles at the Last Supper doing what he commanded – take, eat, drink, remember. When Father elevates the Body of Christ, I pray with Saint Thomas the Apostle, “My Lord, and my God.” I do the same for the chalice. As he continues the Eucharistic prayer, I remember the cloud of witnesses – my parents, all the angels and saints, and especially Mary, the mother of Jesus – who join us in this perfect prayer of Thanksgiving. Adoration, preparation, and participation in Mass are three ways the Revival strengthened my love for the Eucharist. There will be more. I believe the bishops will continue to invite us to deepen our love for the Eucharist, so we, in turn, will go forth in mission. Revived and reviving!
 A month ago, I had the privilege to be one of the more than fifty thousand people who attended the National Eucharistic Congress in Indianapolis, Indiana. I was also one of over one hundred archdiocesan staff, priests, and parishioners from the Archdiocese of Baltimore who attended the Congress. I could wax poetically about the beauty of the liturgies, the depth that the speakers provided, or the awe-inspiring nature of Eucharistic Adoration with fifty thousand people in Lucas Oil Stadium. All these aspects of the Congress were amazing and worth noting, but I cannot focus on those aspects alone; we cannot focus on those aspects alone. If all we remember from the Congress is the Congress itself, and not how the Lord made our hearts burn within us on the road, then all we did was waste thousands of man hours and millions of dollars to throw Jesus the coolest party ever. I loved Matt Maher leading worship at Saturday night Adoration and running into friends in the expo hall, but the reason I am so convinced that revival has already begun is because of the events I attended before and after the Congress and the young people I spent time with throughout the duration of the Congress. Before the Congress, I spent three days with three hundred Asian Pacific Island Catholics from around the country at a national gathering hosted by the USCCB. Through the cultural presentations, bread broken, and keynotes, the moments of greatest impact were the Eucharistic Liturgies which gathered our group around the altar of sacrifice in common worship. Liturgies celebrated by bishops, planned by young people, and prayed by members of the API community of varying age ranges, geographical homes, and cultural families reminded us of the centrality of the Eucharist within our faith and that we are truly one in Christ who makes us one by our reception of Holy Communion. Immediately after the Congress ended, I traveled to Rome with my Center colleagues Fr. Frank Donio, S.A.C. and Sarah Scalfaro as we facilitated a gathering of Youth Coordinators from the Society of the Catholic Apostolate. How fitting to go from talking about Jesus in the Eucharist and the essential missionary dimension of the Christian life and Eucharistic faith to then leading youth ministers in reflection and planning to inspire the young people they serve in their home regions and provinces? Each day of the meeting was grounded in Mass and Eucharistic Adoration, a reminder that, without Jesus, none of our efforts would or could bear fruit in our individual realities. While these two events have convinced me that revival is afoot, I am most convinced by the young people I spent much of the Congress with. By God’s grace, a handful of my former students from The Catholic University of America were at the Congress, either assisting at the CatholicU booth or just attending for their own spiritual growth. This group of young people are, above all things, loved by God very much and they live out their faith in such a way that they show that love to all whom they encounter. Of these students, four continue their journeys at CatholicU, growing in faith and striving for virtue as they continue their collegiate journeys. One wants to pursue Law and has been growing in faith through ministry, another through leadership with the Campus Knights of Columbus Council, and another as he pursues business and seeks to bring the best of business to the ecclesial world. One of these students, who worked for me early in my tenure on staff at CatholicU, now prepares to head into the working world as a nurse, bringing the love and mercy of Christ to those in physical need. Three of the others embark on long-term service in one way or another, domestic and abroad. I think back to the moments I spent with these young missionary disciples; meals and moments in worship shared, jokes told, crowds wandered through, and in every moment, I find hope. I see a group of young people who love the Lord in the Blessed Sacrament and, in their own unique ways as ordained by God, are striving to bring Him to the world they find themselves in. Whethr serving in ministry at CatholicU, entering the workforce, or taking on opportunities for service to the poor and vulnerable, all of these young adults are fueled by the Eucharist, seek Him in Adoration, and share Him with the world through their lives of mercy and love. These events and these young people are what prove to me that revival has begun. Not the bright lights, big stage, and nice music. No, the proof is in the people who gather around the Eucharistic Table despite barriers in their way. The proof is in the priests and religious who gather with the aim of bringing youth closer to the Sacred Heart of Jesus around the world. The proof is in the young people who love and serve the Lord in all that they do, in the circumstances they find themselves in. This is renewal, this is revival. Let there be Eucharistic revival, and let it start in me.
 “What is truth?” (John 18:38). That short and, on the surface, simple question that Pilate asked Jesus is a question that is all too familiar to the hearts of many people today. In this world, we are surrounded by “truths,” each promising their own way to honor, peace, prosperity, and ultimate happiness as the fulfillment of one’s desires. We live in a world that says, “you have your truth, and I have my truth,” with each person striving after happiness on their own terms. However, when each person searches after their own truth, there is no real absolute truth. In fact, there is no truth at all, only a myriad sea of endless self-satisfaction. In this darkness we find ourselves today, a shining star and exemplar can be found in the life and spirit of the early thirteenth-century saint, Dominic de Guzmán, whom the Church celebrates today. St. Dominic, a man filled with the fire of the Holy Spirit, knew the Truth as an incarnate person, Jesus Christ. He so loved Truth itself, that he lived to set the world aflame with love for and knowledge of it. St. Dominic, a wise and learned man, who was known for selling his expensive books to provide for the poor, left us no writings of his own. Instead, we know everything about the life of this holy man from those who knew him best and from the living witness of the order he founded, the Order of Preachers - the Dominicans. One of the mottos of the Dominican Order is “Laudare, Benedicere, Praedicare.” In English, this means, “To Praise, To Bless, To Preach,” and it was in this manner of constant praising, blessing, and preaching that Dominic lived his life. While traveling through Southern France, St. Dominic was devastated to see that the region had been consumed by the Albigensian heresy. The Albigensians believed that the material world was evil, and that only the spirit world was good. For them, God could never have become flesh. The Incarnation and the Crucifixion were only illusions for them. St. Dominic was beset with grief for these people; they had been deceived away from the Truth he loved. Rather than abandon those who had fallen to this error, St. Dominic so loved them that he began preaching against this heresy in 1205. For a man who was known to speak only to God or about God, he had little success in stopping Albigensianism in his time. Undeterred by failure, St. Dominic had a grand vision for the future of the small band of preachers he had gathered to himself. In a time when preaching primarily focused on morals and priests were quite uneducated in dogmas of the Faith, Dominic wanted his preachers to be studious and well-educated to combat heresy in service to the Church. Study then, is one of the Dominican’s most powerful tools, and it is also their life-sustaining nourishment. In study, one allows themself to draw so closely to the Truth, that their minds are illumined with the Light of Christ. In sacred study, one does not discover the Truth; rather, study opens one’s heart to receive it. Not too long after founding the Order of Preachers in 1215, Dominic, having his brothers gathered in Toulouse, France, announced that he was sending them out to preach and establish Dominican houses throughout Europe. Dominic knew that when the Truth had made its dwelling in one’s heart, it cannot be locked away there, or in Toulouse for that matter. Filled with the love and knowledge of God in their hearts, Dominic sent his brothers off to set the world on fire. Armed with the praise of God on their lips, they became a blessing to all they encountered, sanctifying the world around them, through the preaching of the Truth that is Jesus Christ, whom they preached till death. The fruits of this sending forth are evident in my own life. I am blessed to live right across the street from the Dominican House of Studies in Washington, D.C. where the friars receive much of their formation. From there, Truth sets to work in their hearts in many different expressions, be that in a new episode of the Godsplaining podcast, some bluegrass from the Hillbilly Thomists, or the ministry of my own chaplaincy at The Catholic University of America, the fruits of today’s Dominicans are countless. However, all of them have their source in the spirituality of one traveling preacher from northern Spain. May we all learn from the example of St. Dominic, who lived his life to praise, to bless, and to preach in the name of the Truth that he loved. St. Dominic, pray for us!
 “To discern is to open ourselves to God revealing Godself to us. It results in making decisions within the context of a personal relationship with God, nourished regularly by prayer. It is a search to understand more clearly.” -Brother Vincent Pelletier F.S.C. The popularity of the word discernment seems to have skyrocketed in Catholic circles in recent years. Discernment has always been linked to discerning one’s lifelong vocation to married, single, or religious life. Discernment has also been linked—especially recently—to more short-term decisions such as what to study in college, what job to accept, and even more mundane choices within one’s daily life. Many times, young people—myself included for many years in the past—want to tackle the question of lifelong discernment head on, determining their vocation as quickly as possible. This, however, cuts off the central aspect of discernment which is a long-term personal relationship with God. Instead of looking at discernment from the top down, one must examine their daily life, decisions, and prayer life to allow God to show them the path to their lifelong vocation. When I was in college, I was racked by pressure to determine my lifelong vocation to either married, single, or religious life. At the time, I understood that the heart of discernment was taking decisions to God in my prayer life, but all I could focus on was finding the result. In reality, the way to go about discernment is to maintain constant communication with God, to consistently acknowledge His Holy Presence in your life and bring your day-to-day life into your prayers. God presents Himself to us through innumerable ways on any given day, and a cornerstone of prayer is noticing Him there. If, however, you were like me in college worrying about the final result instead of an actionable next step, it is easy to miss God and lose out on quality discernment. It is only through regular prayer that God can reveal Himself clearly to us. Prayer has the power to make sense of the chaos that rules our lives in the twenty-first century. A meditation or Examen in the morning or evening can lead one to see God’s personal actions daily and enable us to bring God into our lives more actively. Retreats—whether a day-long, weekend long, or self-paced at-home retreats—can allow us to break down longer stints of our lives, see God’s presence, and reorient us for larger decisions that might be facing us. Once I realized that my larger vocation questions were not going to be answered unless I discerned daily, it allowed me to become more attuned with God and deepen my prayer life. I began to see how God was strengthening me as a boyfriend, fiancé, and now husband to support and be supported by my now wife. Additionally, by focusing my prayer on the daily actions of my studying and student-teaching internships and being the best teacher I could be, I was able to see how God works in and through me in my career. This realization enabled me to be confident in a career decision that was not something I would have considered when I was beginning my undergraduate experience. As many have said before, God rarely comes to us in beatific visions with clear instructions on how to live our lives for Him. Instead, Jesus comes to us through people and events around us, hoping to guide us along the way of life. Discernment is looking for trail markers that Jesus leaves for us; we are looking to understand the roadmap He laid out for us.
|
Archives
October 2024
Categories
All
|
RSS Feed
About |
Media |
© COPYRIGHT 2024 | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED