 “For the infinite glory of God.” St. Vincent Pallotti pondered greatly about God as infinite love and that all that we as human beings should do all for the infinite glory of God. He would even put the initials AIDG at the top of his letters to others. Of course, his use of this term is an expansion of “for the greater glory of God” of St. Ignatius of Loyola whose spirituality influenced Pallotti. Due to being in Rome, Pallotti had access and involvement with many Catholic spiritual traditions and borrowed freely from them, often modifying aspects of them. Pallotti was clear that all that he did was for the infinite glory of God, not his own glory. He had numerous opportunities to have glory of his own, but he set them aside to focus on God and show the infinite love of God to others. It is well worth our asking the question of ourselves, whose glory do we seek? Is it our own, or that of another human being, or of God? When we do all for the infinite glory of God, we come to know the peace that the Risen Christ offers his disciples. When we go forth as his apostles, as St. Vincent Pallotti called all the faithful to be, we are called to do so for God alone. As we celebrate the 229th anniversary of the birth of St. Vincent Pallotti on April 21st, may the charity of Christ urge us on to do all that we do for the infinite glory of God. In God, the Infinite Love, Fr. Frank
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 “Peter and his companions had been overcome by sleep, but becoming fully awake, they saw his glory and the two men standing with him.” -Luke 9:32 Twice in the Gospels we hear of the trio of disciples sleeping at pivotal moments in Christ’s life and ministry: at the Transfiguration – in this Sunday’s Gospel – and in the Garden of Gethsemane during Christ’s Agony. Both times, Christ is in deep prayer. And both times, Peter, James, and John are “overcome by sleep.” I get it. The group of men have just hiked up a mountain. It would have been normal to rest after such a grueling endeavor. Similarly, in the Garden, Jesus took the three disciples to pray after the Feast of the Passover—a long, filling meal complete with wine. I think of all the times I’ve napped after a holiday meal and sympathize with Peter, James, and John. In these scenes, they are so human. They become tired and rest their eyes. And yet, because of their physical tiredness, they miss out on God’s glory. In this week’s Gospel for the Second Sunday of Lent, Jesus is transfigured and his three beloved disciples are offered a glimpse of the glory to come—not only the glory of the Resurrected Christ, but the glory that awaits all men and women who allow themselves to be transformed by his grace. This Lent, I find myself asking, “Am I asleep with his disciples? What’s causing me to shut my eyes to God’s glory?” These questions are what have guided my Lenten journey as I discern how to grow in holiness this season. Each year, the Church in her wisdom asks us to reflect on what is making us spiritually sluggish and helps us prepare for Easter through prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. By ramping up in these three Lenten tenets, we can grow in our ability to see God’s will and the Holy Spirit at work in our lives. Had the Apostles been awake throughout the entirety of Christ’s Transfiguration, they would have basked longer in this glory—fear and confusion would not have gripped them. Lent calls us to wake up, to be alert, not only for the Easter celebration, but for God’s invitation to greater holiness throughout our lives. Pope Francis highlights Lent as the continuation of the “journey of conversion.” This journey is a lifelong one. And yet, seasons such as Lent, which focus on an even greater attention to prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, often spur us deeper and further on this journey towards Christ. As Pope Francis encouraged in his 2019 Lenten message: Let us not allow this season of grace to pass in vain! Let us ask God to help us set out on a path of true conversion. Let us leave behind our selfishness and self-absorption, and turn to Jesus’ Pasch. Let us stand beside our brothers and sisters in need, sharing our spiritual and material goods with them. In this way, by concretely welcoming Christ’s victory over sin and death into our lives, we will also radiate its transforming power to all of creation. The goal of Lent is not only Easter, but Christ Himself. This Lent, may our participation in prayer, fasting, and almsgiving help us shake off the drowsiness that shuts our eyes to God’s glory. For more resources to accompany you throughout your Lenten journey, please click here. Questions for Reflection: Am you asleep with Christ's disciples? What’s causing you to shut your eyes to God’s glory?”
 The authentic Christian life resounds with love. Beyond any fleeting attraction or fondness, this love is not meant to be hoarded, but to be given in charity and service to others. The love of a Christian reflects the love of God, without Whom we would not exist nor would we have the capacity to love beyond the other, lesser creatures of this planet. This love cannot be restricted to a single day on the calendar but is meant to flow freely every day at every hour through every difficulty and joy, every sorrow and labor, and every moment of pain and peace. It is love which motivates us not only to live for others, but always for the glory of God. Normally, the marital love between a man and a woman manifests and literally takes on new life in the conception of a child. That child adds another wonderful dimension to the love of married life that encompasses parenthood. Years of teaching, correcting, protecting, caring for, playing with, cherishing, and feeding children are physical and emotional applications of love purposed with raising them as members of the domestic church. Eventually, the outpouring of parental love for children can be reciprocated by them in selfless acts of charity, gratitude, joy, or other expressions of affection. Think of the times your parents would beam at seeing your room tidy without asking, warmly embrace you, offer a surprise gift, or watch you shine at school or on the field. Similarly, the example of love shown between parents is not lost on children. This example imprints the strength of the sacrament of marriage—especially during times of difficulty or stress—and encourages children to better appreciate and actively participate in the love of family life. For example, chores or other labors may be done more freely as intrinsically valuable to the functioning of the domestic church; without love, children might only begrudgingly pick up after themselves when forced. How does love otherwise radiate through family life? The eyes which looked upon the spouse on the wedding day can continue to hold the same gaze of awe-filled love through later moments of despair or pain. The hands which exchanged wedding rings can embrace one another with tenderness, consolation, joy, or mercy. They can also be used in service to the poor, the lonely, or the dying. The lips which uttered sacred vows can impart wisdom, praise, blessings, or part in radiant smiles. Just as God lovingly created the human body down to the smallest detail as “good”, so too can the body we have been gifted be utilized to facilitate God’s love among loved ones and neighbors. Perhaps the first lesson your parents taught you was that God is love. By virtue of our baptism, we have become adopted sons and daughters of our Heavenly Father. As such, every answer to our prayers is entirely out of love, regardless of the result. Similarly, our parents, having been entrusted with caring for us, draw upon the love in their marriage to instruct, guide, nourish, or chastise. While our parents’ love may be imperfect, we can look upon the perfect example of the love of the Trinity to shape our applications of love to transcend human limitations. As St. Paul famously wrote, “love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” If it did not, how could any of us be forgiven for our sins against each other or God? How would salvation history exist without love? Authentic marriage or family life is not sustainable without love. And yet, our human limitations may restrict our application of love in certain circumstances. That is why love must be renewed. It must deepen over time to reflect the experiences of life and extend to others. Couples may go on date nights, retreats, vacations, or other activities which can foster relaxation and various communications of love. Similarly, we are reminded of God’s love at each Mass, in which recalling the ultimate Love on the cross helps us receive spiritual renewal to offer that same love to all we encounter. The spiritual renewal we attain allows us to recall the presence of God in our daily lives at every moment and to live up to the potential He calls us to. If our vocation is religious life, then we can hold steadfast to the rules of the order to which we belong and rejoice in our sacred calling. If we are single, we can allow ourselves to increase our capacity to love or extend it to others. If we are married, we can reaffirm the gifts of love in the family— raising children in the Faith or cherishing our spouse. In doing so, we realize that love does not come from ourselves. Rather, God, the source of all love, dwells in our hearts and provides the strength and courage to open ourselves in vulnerability to another. Our love may be spurned, mocked, or tested, but just as God will not refuse His infinite mercy to the hardest of sinners’ hearts, so too are we called to rise above human judgements or inclinations and extend to others the great gift of love God Himself never tires of bestowing. Question for Reflection: Who are some examples of authentic Christian love in your own life? For more resources on Marriage and Family, please click here.
 Near the persevered room of St. Vincent Pallotti in the Generalate of the Society of the Catholic Apostolate (Pallottine Fathers and Brothers) in Rome is a small museum. It contains many personal items of Pallotti. Most are very mundane – his umbrella, hat, shoes, habit, chalice and paten, but in a small glass case there are some things that are unique. Among them is a container with small slips of paper and pieces of wax (see the video “What is a Saint?” for more on that) and a notebook with mathematical formulae and assorted notes. Looking more closely, one can see that it is differential calculus. Pallotti was pondering the concept of infinity. He was using mathematics in his ongoing search for God. Pallotti experienced God as “infinite” and “incomprehensible,” and yet also as “infinite love and mercy.” His intimate experience of God caused him to modify the Ignatian motto of Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam (For the Greater Glory of God) to Ad Infinitam Dei Gloriam (For the Infinite Glory of God). Pallotti desired that all experience God as Infinite Love which is why he created the Union of Catholic Apostolate, an association of lay people, clergy, and religious, to assist the missionary efforts of the Church, revive the faith of Catholics, and engage in works of universal charity. Through word and deed, members of the Union could then be witnesses of God who is Infinite Love. As we celebrate today the feast day of St. Vincent Pallotti, may we be inspired by his life to be bearers of God’s Infinite Love to all those we encounter. May the Charity of Christ urge us on! To learn more about St. Vincent Pallotti, please click here.
 The Vatican and the surrounding streets have begun to empty—not of tourists, but of the three hundred bishops and young people present for the Synod on Young People, the Faith, and Vocational Discernment. From October 3rd through October 28th, Pope Francis met twice a day with bishops and young people from around the world. The days began at 9:00am with morning prayer led by Pope Francis before the first session of the day when participating bishops and auditors (essentially listeners, young people who were brought in as experts for the Synod) gave their four-minute interventions (a short speech addressed to the assembly). An afternoon break led into the second session that began with prayer before more interventions were given. The last major part of the synodal process involved small groups, called circoli minori, that contained bishops and auditors who discussed the interventions of the day and worked to write reports. American representatives to the Synod included Cardinal DiNardo of Galveston/Houston, Bishop Caggiano of Bridgeport, and Jonathan Lewis from the Archdiocese of Washington. Being from all over the world, the Synod fathers brought different views and experiences of the global Church. Some, like the bishops from Africa, spoke of flourishing churches overflowing with the faithful, while others, like the bishops from the US and Australia, talked about the pain that the faithful from their countries are feeling. No matter where they came from, the participants of the Synod shared a common goal: to have prayerful discussion about the three topics of the Synod. The discussion of young people, a term in the US that refers to people from the ages of 18-35, took center stage for much of the three-and-a-half-week process. How to deal with low numbers of vocations to the priesthood or religious life in certain parts of the world, the realities of technology within the sphere of evangelization, and the role of women within the Church were some of the many topics discussed that are important to the young people of the Church today. The US bishops present acknowledged the damage done to the Church’s credibility due to the ongoing crisis, and Cardinal Cupich of Chicago noted the need for humility and acknowledgement of fallibility among leaders and adults going forward to help rebuild the relationships that have been broken. Inside the Synod Hall, in the press rooms, and out on the streets of Rome, there were many reasons to be optimistic and hopeful in the outcomes of the Synod. Bishops could be seen with the young people from their countries, giving talks on the topics of the Synod, and spending time with young people in Rome—bringing to life the words spoken in the Synod Hall. One term worth noting, and one that will be incredibly important to the actualization of the Synod within the Church, is accompaniment. The concept of accompaniment was very important to the initial documents of the Synod, to the daily interventions, and continues to be to the life of the Church outside of the hall. Accompaniment, as the final document notes, draws its origin from Luke 24:13-35, the story of the Road to Emmaus. Accompaniment means walking with someone on their journey with Christ. This walking involves prayer, listening, prayerful instruction, and dialogue. The goal of the journey is Heaven. The Synod Fathers and Pope Francis see the importance and need for accompaniment due to the many different individual circumstances that young people encounter on a daily basis. It is through accompanying others, and allowing ourselves to be accompanied, that we will help one another get to Heaven. May we pray that the Holy Spirit guides the implementation of the Synod, that our Church leaders will lead with integrity and be guided by what they learned from the Synod, and that all be done for the infinite glory of God. For more resources on the Synod on Young People, the Faith, and Vocational Discernment, please click here.
 In AD 590, when a man named Gregory—the abbot of St. Andrew’s Monastery in Rome—was called upon to serve as Bishop of Rome, he responded with an open letter to the Church: "Pastoralis curae me pondera fugere" — “I have thought to flee from the burdens of pastoral care.” In essence, Gregory pleaded to be spared the heavy and awesome responsibility of the office of bishop. His letter formed the opening lines of his work Pastoral Care (Regula Pastoralis), one of our church’s greatest works of pastoral theology by one of our church’s greatest shepherds. Interestingly, we celebrate Pope St. Gregory the Great’s feast on September 3, the day he was consecrated pope — not the anniversary of the saint’s death, as per usual — perhaps as a testament to the light of personal holiness and institutional reform that he exhibited during the dark days, literally the historical “Dark Ages,” of the church when he was elected. Though primarily addressing his soon-to-be brother bishops in Pastoral Care, St. Gregory’s words resonate with all those who exercise leadership and responsibility in ministry, especially in light of the painful days in which our church now finds herself. In times of turmoil, St. Gregory believed that God calls all the baptized faithful — laity and clergy, women and men, young and old — to the task of renewal in the apostolate. St. Gregory did not mince words when he called out leaders “who aspire to glory and esteem by an outward show of authority within the holy Church,” and as a result, “when those who go before lose the light of knowledge, certainly those who follow are bowed down in carrying the burden of their sins” (Pastoral Care, I.1). He observed, “For no one does more harm in the Church than he, who having the title or rank of holiness, acts evilly” (Pastoral Care, I.3). St. Gregory’s great handbook on pastoral care challenges the core values and virtues that ought to shape our Christian life and community. In aspiring to roles of leadership, Gregory makes the striking remark that “whosoever was set over the people was the first to be led to the tortures of martyrdom” (Pastoral Care, I.8). In other words, Gospel ministry in the footsteps of Jesus, especially for those serving in leadership, is a laying down of one’s life — one’s time, talent, treasures — so that the power of the crucified and risen Christ may live in us. The result is not necessarily “success,” but joy and salvation. In imitation of Jesus, true pastoral care conquers the love of power with the power of love. In calling others to holiness, what made Gregory truly “great” was that in spite of his strengths, he never lost sight of his own weaknesses, sins, failures, and need for constant conversion. He ends his work by stating: “I, miserable painter that I am, have painted the portrait of an ideal man; and here I have been directing others to the shore of perfection, I, who am still tossed about on the waves of sin. But in the shipwreck of this life, sustain me, I beseech you, with the plank of your prayers, so that, as my weight is sinking me down, you may uplift me with your meritorious hand.” (Pastoral Care, IV) In short, we Christian brothers and sisters need each other more than ever. We need each other to offer joy, consolation, encouragement, and a helping hand to one another. That is what makes ministry not only possible, but even worth doing. We hold out hope that our God never ceases to call forth church leaders and Christ followers like Gregory to lead us through the Dark Ages, in whatever age they seem to be dawning.
 Lately, I have been reflecting on discipline as an important element of discipleship. What does the word discipline mean to you? Commitment, application, diligence, resolve, zeal, conscientiousness; these are all synonyms of the word discipline. Discipline and its synonyms imply a persistence, a willingness to do something difficult over and over in order to achieve a goal or to serve some purpose. Am I a dedicated disciple of Jesus Christ who is willing to discipline myself, physically and spiritually, body and soul, to be the best version of myself? Am I committed to using that self for the glory of Christ’s work on earth? More often than not, the secular fitness industry attempts to convince people to be concerned with disciplining their bodies for aesthetic reasons. You should eat right, exercise, and get enough sleep so that your body conforms to a certain standard of beauty. The implication is that people who conform to this standard of beauty feel better about themselves, are admired more by other people and are more successful in life—but what if we cared about the health of our bodies because it was also bound up in the health of our souls? Scripture teaches us that the human body is made in the image of God, which the Catechism explains that “it is a human body precisely because it is animated by a spiritual soul” (CCC 364). This means that our bodies are not just our bodies: they are ensouled. That doesn’t mean that the body is just a container for the soul. Rather, “the unity of soul and body is so profound that one has to consider the soul to be the ‘form’ of the body: i.e., it is because of its spiritual soul that the body made of matter becomes a living, human body; spirit and matter, in man, are not two natures united, but rather their union forms a single nature” (my emphasis, CCC 365). The soul and the body are uniquely bound. The “form” of the soul organizes and determines the “matter” of the body—just as a collection of wooden planks can be organized by the form of “ship” or “house”. Thinking about all of this within the context of healthy living, understanding our human nature as the union of body and soul can help us to recognize the spiritual importance of caring for our material bodies. What if we took a walk, fueled our body with proper nutrition, or went to the gym because we knew that it would keep us more energized, focused, and alert to fulfilling God’s work on earth? The bodies that we have been given are a gift from God, and much like the rest of creation, it is our task to faithfully steward them. One way that we can live as faithful stewards of our bodies is to invite God into our daily choices. We can pray for the strength to take care of our bodies and when it feels like making a healthy choice is too difficult, we can offer up the sacrifice for someone else. The next time you are debating on whether to spend some time focusing on improving your bodily health, make the decision to offer the sacrifice of your time and energy for a specific intention. The intention can be for a family member, an acquaintance, a close friend, or perhaps a special intention that you are struggling with. “Offering it up” for another person is a form of “intercessory prayer,” which “leads us to pray as Jesus did” to God the father on behalf of others (CCC 2634). Offering the pain and suffering of bodily discomforts is a good way to continually remind yourself that your body is intimately connected to your spirit. Using your body for prayer is not a new idea in the Church. As Catholics, our worship and our sacraments are very sensorial. We cross ourselves, we kneel at the most important parts of Mass like the Consecration, and we use sacramentals like incense and holy water to orient ourselves in prayer to God. We should ask ourselves whether we are using our bodies properly during the spiritual activities of our week. Do we allow ourselves to be fully present and attentive at Mass by folding our hands in prayer and using our eyes to gaze upon the consecrated Body and Blood of Christ? When we genuflect or make the Sign of the Cross, do we muddle through the motions or do we execute each movement deliberately and with reverence? When we prepare ourselves for scriptural reflection or meditation, are we aware of the physical ways that we can help our bodies and brains to relax and focus so that we can bring all of our attention and faculties to Christ? Why should we be concerned with this idea of body AND soul? Our body and soul were designed as one; when we forget one for the other we are not living fully in service to our Lord. Let us use our bodies and souls in action and deed as one instrument for the Glory of God. Question for Reflection: How can I make my prayer more reverent by using my body? Who are they people in my life for whom I can offer up physical discomfort?
 But he said to them, "Unless I see in his hands the print of the nails, and place my finger in the mark of the nails, and place my hand in his side, I will not believe." -John 20:25 During this beautiful liturgical season of rejoicing in the Resurrection of Our Lord, I always find this particular passage about “Doubting Thomas” extremely important to stop and reflect upon. After weeks and weeks experiencing the desert of Lent, the Passion on Good Friday, and the somber waiting on Holy Saturday, we celebrate the Father’s goodness, His promise fulfilled, His Son glorified on Easter Sunday! Praise Him, for “by his wounds we are healed.” (Isaiah 53:5) On the Sunday when the Gospel passage about Thomas is proclaimed, I tend to sympathize with the “doubting” disciple. Thomas was not there the first time Jesus appeared to the disciples. I resonate with Thomas’s human response of needing to touch the side of the Lord in order to believe. What strikes me about Thomas is his initial understanding that the Resurrected Lord would have His wounds. Why did Thomas believe the Lord in His glory would still be wounded? I find myself thinking of the Lord in His glorified body as “perfect,” without blemish, without the aftermath of pain, with every scar from Good Friday completely gone. Thomas, however, needed to see evidence from the Lord’s action on Friday for the sake of belief. Thomas came to know the Risen Lord through His wounds. Do you fall into the same temptation that I do, that resurrection means pain and suffering will be completely dispelled and erased, as if it never happened? This is not how the Lord comes in His glory. Jesus returns with His wounds, glorified, resurrected, transfigured. In fact, Jesus’ wounds were necessary for the increasing of faith for His disciples. Christ takes on the burden of our sins in order to overcome them. He conquers man’s greatest foe, death itself, and invites us to eternal life. The scars and wounds Christ shows Thomas give testament to this truth. The pain of Good Friday brings the sweetness in the joy of the Resurrection on Easter Sunday and thereafter. How does this apply to our lives? Are you struggling with something you see little hope in? Do you find yourself asking the Lord for a different cross? Just as Jesus’ wounds and sufferings are glorified, so shall ours be if we turn them over to God. We can be sure then that our own struggles, crosses, and sufferings will be brought to glory, not forgotten, but resurrected. Our particular areas of pain can bring others to the glory of Jesus Christ! Let us ask St. Thomas to help our unbelief and truly live in the hope of the Resurrection. “Each man in his suffering can also become a sharer in the redemptive suffering of Christ.” –St. John Paul II, Salvifici Doloris Question for Reflection: How can the story of “Doubting Thomas” increase your faith? Have there been times in your life when you, too, need to see in order to believe?
 Vivat Jesus! In the proclamation “Jesus lives!” which originates from St. Francis de Sales, the Church finds and experiences for herself the mystery of salvation. This then energizes and animates all her works. Because Christ has risen from the dead, we are assured of a most glorious hope that God loves us and that no trial nor any tribulation can overshadow the truth of such saving grace. Doesn’t it feel so liberating to once again be able to exclaim, “Alleluia!”, or burst into the Gloria at Mass? That innate feeling of wanting to, needing to, and being compelled to praise God in these ways reflects a deeper desire to share this incredible Good News with others—there just isn’t any room for passivity in the Christian life. Certainly, the Resurrection event gained for us the eternal reward in Paradise that we could not achieve ourselves. But to really benefit from it, the experience needs to change us, that is, to make us marvel at God’s merciful love and then continuously reveal that to all the world. Donald Cardinal Wuerl made this observation back in January for the occasion of the dedication the new altar of the Pallottine Seminary at Green Hill, home of the Catholic Apostolate Center: In His command, “Do this in memory of Me,” Jesus invites each one of us into the Mystery of His Death and Resurrection. We’re not just going to be passive bystanders who come to know Him. We’re not just going to be someone who looks on the merry-go-round and says, “Isn’t that wonderful?” We’re invited into the Mystery itself. In doing so, we manifest the glory of the Lord; it is our mission as Christians. As Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI reminded us at his installation Mass, “the purpose of our lives is to reveal God to men.” The Resurrection cannot be confined to a mere moment in history two thousand years ago. All that it accomplished cannot be measured; its effects continue to affect and move us even now. Today we are truly experiencing the great joy that the Risen Lord promised His disciples. And this authentic joy does not fade in times of mourning or despair. Especially in those times, we can look up in hope, knowing the same Risen Christ is with us at every moment to offer courage and mercy. It is in this reality—not mere speech and daydreams—that the Church exists and works from. As Benedict XVI continued, “The Church is alive — she is alive because Christ is alive, because he is truly risen.” As Christians, we bear the Name of the Savior through Baptism. We invite the world to encounter Christ, Whose presence we manifest through the charitable actions of our lives. Just as we share with one another the light from the Paschal candle during the Easter Vigil, so, too, do we share the light of hope and faith with those in darkness. By the grace of God and the support of each other, may we, at every moment of our lives, join with the whole Church and the heavenly host to praise God for His mercy and goodness. As Timothy Cardinal Dolan reminded us “‘Our Savior, Jesus Christ, has destroyed death, and brought us light and life!’ No wonder we [reply], ‘Alleluia!’”
 How is your posture? Whether I’m teaching a relaxation and scripture meditation class, aerobics, floor and core work, strength and balance, or working one-on-one with an individual, I am constantly reminding my students to, “check in with your posture.” Are your feet firmly planted in the ground? Are you engaging your thighs? Is your pelvis tilted under and your spine lengthened? Is your core engaged? Are your shoulders rolled down and back? Is your head and neck lifted? Where is your focus? I’m sure that any of my students will tell you that, at first, it is slightly unnerving to hear constantly. Soon, however, we each come to realize what an important role proper posture plays, not only in our everyday lives, but especially during our exercises. The simplest of movements can be made more challenging and more beneficial for the whole body and mind by engaging and practicing proper posture. Through the effort of involving the whole body, we are able to improve our balance, kinesthetic awareness, and better focus on isolating the specific muscles that we are moving or working. When we are able to unite that kind of movement awareness with the sacrifice of an intention or prayer, powerful things can happen within and through us. Although it is hard to believe, we are just about half way through our Lenten journey. It’s time to check in with our spiritual posture. Are we engaging our Lenten spiritual muscles of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving? Is our human pride tucked under and our humility engaged? Are our shoulders rolled back and our head held high during our offerings of sacrifice so as not to draw attention to our sacrificial efforts? (Matthew 6:5-8) Or are we simply going through the motions, executing the exercise, without engaging our whole selves? We are all called to be saints within our own right. Becoming a saint and bringing the glory of God and the saving power of Christ into the world is what we were created to do. That is our Eastertide. That is what we are “training” for. Lent is not meant to be business as usual. Therefore, our spiritual posture becomes even more relevant and important as we challenge, exercise, and train ourselves for what we are called to be. There may be times in our lives where going through the motions is necessary. Sometimes, it may be all we can do—and that’s okay. However, Lent is our time to persevere. Lent is our training season. What do we need to remove from our lives to reach a healthier state spiritually, emotionally, mentally, and physically? What are the things we need to hang onto or strengthen in order to reach our Easter goal? As we assess our journey thus far, perhaps we can call upon the assistance and intercession of St. Katherine Drexel as we honor her on her Feast Day today. Saint Katherine Drexel beautifully expresses that our entire being and all that we do, from work to play, to keeping ourselves healthy, should be offered back to our heavenly Father for His glory. For it is only through Him that we receive our spirit and our faculties. It is through Him and our offerings to Him that we receive the strength and ability to complete the work that He calls us to and to become the saints we are called to be. In her personal writings, she prayed: “Yes, my Lord and my God Jesus, to you I commend my spirit, my soul with its faculties, my body with its senses, my heart with its affections, all that I have, and all that I am. Dispose of me absolutely, in everything, according to your will. From now on, dearest Jesus, may everything outside you be a matter of indifference to me, provided only I accomplish your will and advance in your love. O Jesus, I love you and your Mother and abandon myself to your love for time and eternity.” Check in with your posture. Do the hard work and don’t be afraid to sweat your way through the rest of Lent. Unite your work, your dedication, and your sacrifices with the saints and angels and call on their intersession for strength. Stay focused on the end result, the finish line, the Easter joy. For more resources to help your spiritual Lenten posture, click here.
 A few years ago, I was backpacking through the desert of northeastern New Mexico. On one particular day, we were going to climb the tallest mountain of our trek, Baldy Mountain, at an elevation of 12,441 feet. As we got higher, the climb became more difficult with thinning air and more challenging terrain. As we neared the summit, I ended up in front of the crew. Just as we reached the summit, our crew leader, Jordan, literally gave me the final push to the top. At that moment, we were on top of the world and gleaming with joy! While on the mountaintop, we could see for miles. As we reveled, I paused and said a quick prayer of thanksgiving. One couldn't help but be amazed at God's great creation. As we rested, having a quick snack and some water, we saw some storm clouds starting to roll in and were forced to descend quicker than anticipated. Eventually, we would finish our 110 mile trek—with Baldy Mountain being one of the greatest highlights. Whenever I hear the story of the Transfiguration, my mind immediately goes to this time in the mountains. Because of this experience, I feel as though I have walked with Peter, John, and James. At the moment I reached summit, I caught a glimpse of the glory of God. I saw a small part of the transfiguring power of Jesus. I went from a hiker to a pilgrim in a matter of seconds. My trek now had a greater significance. It was no longer just a physical challenge, but one that would cause me to go on a religious quest in God's great creation. This is what I see in last Sunday's Gospel, which is a reminder of the splendor of Jesus. Usually by this point in Lent, I am more concerned about avoiding the things I have given up and less on Jesus. The Transfiguration is a reminder of why we enter the Lenten season: to see the face of Jesus. He helps us transfigure ourselves into being more loving, more merciful, and more perfect humans. If we look at the beginning of Chapter 9 of Luke, Jesus gives his mission to the Apostles. He tells them to go out and proclaim the Good News. It is after the Transfiguration that he reveals more of his glory. We, too, have the same experience. These experiences come in a number of different ways. They are often brief personal moments that can happen anywhere. Personally, I often find them in interactions with individuals. It can be serving the poor, being with a friend during a difficult time, or smiling at a stranger in the grocery store. From the moment of our baptism, we are sent out into the world as apostles and then along the way we consistently experience his glory. This encounter can happen anywhere and at anytime. I also appreciate Peter's role in this Gospel. Rather than being amazed at the splendor of Christ and the conversation between him, Elijah, and Moses, Peter suggests they pitch tents for the three. Doing so would completely defeat the purpose of the meeting. His transfiguration is an affirmation of his identity as the Messiah and is meant to show how Jesus is the fulfillment of the Old Testament. I often find that I say something at the wrong place or time. That is exactly what Peter does here. He means well, but doesn't see what is in front of him: the glory that Jesus has revealed. In his humanity, Peter often does this, yet Jesus still loves him. Especially during the Year of Mercy, we need to be reminded that we, too, can be like Peter and that is okay. We often don't see the splendor in front of our eyes. But we know that we are loved by God, who is the Infinite Love. When we invite God to enter our hearts, we can see the spender of God. Like the patron of the Catholic Apostolate Center, St. Vincent Pallotti, said "Seek God and you find God. Seek God in all things and you will find God in all things. Seek God in always and you will always find God." As we go on this week, we should be looking in our own lives to see the transfiguring power of Christ. It may not be a major event, like last Sunday's Gospel, but in the small things. If we keep our hearts open this Lent we will find God anywhere. For more resources to accompany you on your Lenten journey, click here.
 Forever and beyond will beauty last upon the fabric of this path we are all on. Life is a journey and a time of change, but the love and beauty that emits from the experience of life will last, will remain, and will persevere. Everything that goes through this life journey we lead as creations of a One, True, Loving Lord adds to the over-abundant beauty that is this light for our feet. From the spectacular of fireworks to the humblest of daily chores, everything holds within it an essence of glory, a glory given by the graces of the awakenings of the Spirit in this life. Such essence of glory protrudes into the days and nights, into our sensual stimulators by one path and one path alone, beauty. Beauty in the form of simple things, grand things, petty things, and profound things. Each passing moment has beauty in it to be recognized. All things bright and beautiful stem directly from our Divine Creator. All beautiful things reflect the love and care of the beautiful Father, abounding in glory and radiant light for all to experience.
Beauty can be seen in everything and everyone, if only we have the courage and wisdom to look hard enough. Such avenues of beauty are the various art forms of life, for example, works of art, music, literature, friendships, emotion, or moments indescribable by words. Art forms are anything that leave an impression on us, for life itself is the grandest of art forms that pours forth in everything it is. It is hard for us all to see the beauty in suffering or in times of darkness, but that doesn't mean it isn’t there, in the wrinkles and the silver linings that radiate beauty in a different light than what we are used to. For life, beauty is there. The Saints are good examples of the beautiful life, each one leading vastly different lives. Life is beautiful in each human experience, including the suffering and dark stuff. The Saints are good demonstrations of the beautiful human experience, including within it all sides of life: the good, the bad, and the ugly. Saint Kateri Tekakwitha, whose feast we celebrate today, is quite extraordinary and is a good example of the kind of beauty I am discussing here. Her life, besides her ardent Catholic faith, was normal for a girl in her Native American village. Her life was beautiful in her great faith, in her dealings with her family and those who did and could not understand her reasoning for believing that Christ Jesus was her Savior, and finally in her simple yet profound suffering and eventual martyrdom. She is the “Lily of the Mohawks.” Contemplate the Lily for a moment: the petals, the pollen, the beauty. So simple yet so complex, yet beautiful in its complexity. This is Saint Kateri. She is the lily, the beauty of a life lead in the faith of Christ. Personally, I have had a special devotion to Saint Kateri ever since fourth grade. My teacher chose then Blessed Kateri to be the one we all prayed for in our daily prayer time. Growing off of that initial, prayerful experience with Kateri, when she was finally canonized, I studied her life and virtues in depth, reflecting and praying intentions through her intercession. For eyes to see the beauty of the world and of everything you experience, pray to Saint Kateri, and like a lily may she blossom in all of us the joy of the beautiful Savior, whose blood painted the most beautiful image of all, our salvation. William Clemens is an Undergraduate Student of Theology and Religious Studies at The Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C.  “…we even boast of our afflictions, knowing that affliction produces endurance, and endurance, proven character, and proven character, hope, and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.”
Romans 5:3-5 A few weeks ago, during our celebration of the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity, this portion of St. Paul’s letter to the Romans was read to faithful Catholics throughout the world. I had the privilege of attending a bilingual Mass that weekend with my girlfriend, Kara, in a high school gymnasium. The different setting, unfamiliar language, and unusually large number of altar servers hardly crossed my mind as we participated in Mass at Most Holy Trinity Parish, on this, their solemnity. It was a beautiful liturgy to say the least! What struck Kara and me most about our experience, however, were these lines from the second reading: How many of us know someone who is afflicted? We all have family members, friends or colleagues that are struggling with cancer, unemployment, depression, etc. In the daily news - local, national and international - we hear about gun violence, war, natural disaster, and famine. Even more simplistically, we each have ‘good days’ and ‘bad days.’ St. Paul reminds us that affliction is not something to run from because ultimately, we “boast in hope of the Glory of God” (Romans 5:2). His ‘flow chart of hope’ is a reassuring message of what true faithfulness yields and how God makes His love present to each of us in our struggles. The alternatives to hope (sin, despair, discouragement, impatience, fear, anxiety, guilt…)_ when left unchecked, are a rejection of God’s invitation to deeper communion with Him. Very basically, this reading offers us a roadmap to understand how affliction does not have the final word; hope does! Pope Benedict XVI’s homily at Nationals Stadium during his 2008 Apostolic Visit to the United States speaks to this point: “It is a prayer of unfailing hope, but also one of patient endurance and, often, accompanied by suffering for the truth. Through this prayer, we share in the mystery of Christ’s own weakness and suffering, while trusting firmly in the victory of his Cross.” We are able to endure our own afflictions because of the hope promised to us by God. Pain, suffering, and struggle are not pleasant, especially when they are affecting someone we know and love. As people of faith, though, we believe God is with us, united in our affliction and made present to us in the love we experience. This faith, this hope, and this love, offer us momentary comfort and strength as we journey to the ultimate glory of complete communion with God. We have a common call to share this hope with those around us, especially with those who find it difficult to endure in times of struggle. This simple reminder of the universality of the Church also reminds us that through prayer, “we become capable of the great hope, and thus we become ministers of hope for others” (Spe Salvi, 34). And so, as we are confronted with affliction, our prayer should be one of hope. As others struggle with affliction, our response should be one of hope. And as we begin to question why affliction affects our lives, we must remember that affliction yields hope; hope in the love of God. “Hope, O my soul, hope. You know neither the day nor the hour. Watch carefully, for everything passes quickly, even though your impatience makes doubtful what is certain, and turns a very short time into a long one. Dream that the more you struggle, the more you prove the love that you bear your God, and the more you will rejoice one day with your Beloved, in a happiness and rapture that can never end.” St. Teresa of Avila, The Exclamations of the Soul to God, 15:3. Jonathan Jerome is the Director of Catholic Campus Ministry at the University of Pittsburgh Johnstown. Editor's Note: This post was originally published on June 13, 2013  As Catholics, we have the great fortune of having at our fingers an inexhaustible treasure trove of prayers to guide us in countless meditations, devotions, intercessions, and spiritual exercises. All of it is oriented to helping us recognize and remember God’s presence in our lives, and to call upon Him in thanksgiving, praise, petition, intercession, or blessing and adoration. The Church, of course, does not hold a monopoly over the varying forms of prayer but continues to invite the faithful to contribute to her wealth and so grow in holiness and piety. As one makes his or her journey of faith, he or she will invariably develop preferences in offering prayers to the heavens which likely change as that person matures or has different experiences in life. Exposing oneself to the diversity of prayer is a wonderful thing as it allows one to personally discover and experience new dimensions of spirituality in our Faith.
Growing up, I had been accustomed to vocal prayer as it gave a feeling of substance to my calling upon the Lord and His response. For example, I would pray aloud during Mass and would hear God’s Word being proclaimed back to me. Of course, if I was not actively paying attention to that Word or if my mind or heart were absent, my prayers would be for naught and be reduced to mere words: “Whether or not our prayer is heard depends not on the number of words, but on the fervor of our souls” (St. John Chrysostom, see CCC 2700). The trouble I sometimes had with my private prayer was that I would be speaking to God without really listening for His reply. When I arrived at The Catholic University of America as a freshman I was immediately exposed to new expressions of the Faith. One of my favorite forms of prayer turned out to be radically different from everything I had encountered beforehand. At the first Praise and Worship Adoration of the year I was thrilled to be seated in the packed St. Paul’s chapel at 9 PM on a Wednesday. Even more so, I had never before experienced so much energy and emotion by a congregation (especially one consisting mainly of young people) poured into song. Immediately after the homily’s conclusion, however, the lights were turned off and everyone fell to their knees. In the darkness the only thing visible before us on the altar was the monstrance containing the Blessed Sacrament. The next ten or fifteen minutes served to introduce me to contemplative prayer, in which I was able to connect with our Lord in a new and incredibly intimate way. As St. John Vianney described the experience, “I look at him and he looks at me.” By focusing on His true and beautiful Presence before me, I forget about all the distractions in my life: the voices in my head scattering my thoughts, my desires, my worries, my exhaustion, etc. I simply place myself before Him and gaze at Him in the stillness. Scripturally, I’m reminded of Mary’s tender gazing at her Son as she held Him in her arms, both at His birth (cf. Matthew 2:11) and His death (cf. John 19:37), as well as Mary of Bethany’s gazing upon the Lord when He ministered to her household (see Luke 10:39). This silent but ineffable expression of love is not passive but an obedience— and test— of faith, especially as my senses cannot comprehend the Real Presence (see CCC 2715-2717). No matter what form of prayer one prefers, all prayer must be based in humility (see Matthew 23:12, CCC 2559-2560). It is God’s gift to us, especially since “we do not know how to pray as we ought” (Romans 8:26). As prayer is from the heart, “if our heart is far from God, the words of prayer are in vain” (CCC 2562; cf. CCC 2563). Finally, no matter what we pray for, we must never underestimate the power of our words. Pope Francis has stressed that “prayer, in the face of a problem, a difficult situation, a calamity… is opening the door to the Lord, so that He can do something. If we close the door, God can do nothing!” Like the Psalmist David sings, we can always find comfort and assurance in God’s presence: O God, you are my God, I seek you, my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water. So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary, beholding your power and glory. Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you. So I will bless you as long as I live; I will lift up my hands and call on your name (Psalm 63:1-4). Thomas Wong is an undergraduate at The Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C.  As we arrive at a new year, we offer you a name for the Catholic Apostolate Center blog, Ad Infinitum. Where does this name come from? At the beginning of this post there are four letters that were at the top of every letter that the Center’s patron St. Vincent Pallotti would write, A.I.D.G., Ad Infinitam Dei Gloriam, For the Infinite Glory of God.[1] The letters would remind him and also his readers that all that is done is not for our glory, but for God’s. As many will recognize, this usage is an adaptation of Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam, For the Greater Glory of God, of St. Ignatius of Loyola. Why infinite? Because of Pallotti’s deep experience of God as Infinite Love, a love which is infinitely communicated to us, and in which we are called to respond. In the writings of Pallotti, the Apostle-Mystic of the Infinite, we witness his experience, one in which we can share,
“Oh the excess of incomprehensible love! Ah my God, infinite love of my soul, ineffable mercy! Oh the divine inventions of your infinitely merciful love…My God, my infinite Mercy, Eternal, Immense, Incomprehensible, one and only Infinite, infinitely Communicable.” The infinitely communicable God of Infinite Love works in and through us to communicate this love to the world. The logo of the Catholic Apostolate Center, the Infinity Cross, is a meditation on the communication to us of the Infinite Love of the Trinity through the Word become flesh, Jesus Christ, and his great unmerited sacrificially loving gift for us on the cross, a cross that in the logo is opened ended, open to Infinite Love being spread to all points of the world through us. Since God is working in and through us we are challenged to do all that we do not for our glory, but For the Infinite Glory of God! Of course, that is easier said than done. We like being recognized, appreciated, honored, and maybe even, sometimes, glorified, if we can get it. And yet, does it bring us true joy or just a fleeting sense of happiness? As we begin another year, it is worth our reflecting on who brings us true joy, peace, and love and how we respond in faith and charity as apostles of Christ not for ourselves but Ad Infinitum. Fr. Frank S. Donio, S.A.C., D. Min is Director of the Catholic Apostolate Center For a free book of daily meditations for each day of the year based on the writings of St. Vincent Pallotti, click here. [1] When used in the phrase“Ad Infinitam Dei Gloriam,” an “a” is used instead of a “u” in “Infinitum” in order to correspond with “gloriam” which it modifies. |
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