For the average modern-day Catholic, one’s familiarity with St. Barnabas probably extends as far as knowing that he was a companion of St. Paul during Paul’s early missionary work. But when I delved deeper into the Acts of the Apostles to learn more about Barnabas, I was surprised to see just how influential he was in the early days of the Church.
He first appears in the Acts of the Apostles 4:36: “Joseph, also named by the apostles Barnabas” sells a piece of his property and donates the money for the Apostles to use. He next appears in Chapter 9, when he takes charge of the newly-converted Paul and introduces him to the twelve Apostles, and later, he brings Paul into the missionary work for the growing, Jewish-and-Gentile-based Christian community at Antioch (in modern-day Turkey). Chapters 13 and 14 could be appropriately nicknamed “The Adventures of Paul & Barnabas,” for they include: an encounter with a false prophet (Acts 13:6-12), having their teachings embraced by Gentiles and just as thoroughly rejected by Jews (Acts 13:44-52), one near-stoning and one nearly-fatal stoning (Acts 14:5-6 and 14:19-20, respectively), and performing a miracle only to be mistaken for incarnations of the Greek gods Zeus and Hermes (Acts 14:8-14). And yet, the Holy Spirit compelled them onward! The next chapters recount more of Sts. Paul and Barnabas’s evangelizing work together and then focus on St. Paul after he and Barnabas went separate ways.
Personally, I had never known that St. Barnabas—whom I had often envisioned as a sort of sidekick to St. Paul’s evangelizing heroics during his early years as a missionary—was actually the man indirectly responsible for Paul’s later renown. It can be difficult to believe that someone has truly changed, and even more difficult to advocate publicly for that person before he has had a chance to ‘prove himself’—and yet that is what Barnabas did. Would Paul ever have been accepted as a ‘true’ Christian if the well-regarded Barnabas had not been there to acknowledge Paul publicly and to put him in touch with the Apostles? How long might it have taken Paul to reach the path of the missionary if Barnabas had not sought him out specifically to assist the efforts in Antioch?
In our modern, post-Christian society, there are many opportunities for us to be the Barnabas to someone else’s Paul. Perhaps it might mean asking for help from someone with a task that could ignite their zeal for the Lord and nurture their God-given talents. Perhaps we can see the potential for someone else’s faith to deepen and for the great things they could accomplish. Or perhaps the opportunities we encounter are chances to be a witness to the truth—even if that witness brings persecution, falls on deaf ears, or we must move on to other places, as Paul and Barnabas did.
As we commemorate the feast of St. Barnabas, let us ask for his intercession in revealing to us how we can most effectively share the Gospel today and invite others into a life of meaningful discipleship.
Question for Reflection: Has anyone ever advocated for you or have you ever been an advocate on someone’s behalf? What was this experience like?
Let’s face it: We live in a world that doesn’t really understand the meaning of love. We hear this word “love” thrown around a lot. There are any number of things we can say that we love in a day: our latest tv show binge, a favorite food, or place that we have travelled. We use this word with such inconsistency that it has begun to lose its meaning.
How often do we succeed at recognizing and paying accolades to these “lesser loves” while failing to acknowledge the people and moments that actually deserve our recognition? All the while we are too easily forgetting Jesus, who is Love made flesh.
The Gospel of John says, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” While the world proposes time and time again that we settle for lesser loves, the Gospel promises us that if we want to find our lives - if we want to find love - we must lay ourselves down.
St. Maximilian Kolbe, whose feast we celebrate today, exhibited this in a way that was truly heroic. Not only did he defend and promulgate the faith during the height of World War II, but he, in a final act of heroic love, also laid down his life for a man randomly selected to die in a starvation chamber at Auschwitz. When St. Maximilian Kolbe was asked who he was by the Nazi guards, he simply responded: “I am a Catholic priest.”
Maximillian Kolbe’s sacrifice is what the Church calls an act of “redemptive suffering” – suffering which allows and invites us to participate in Christ’s redeeming sacrifice and make manifest the love of God. The Catechism states:
The cross is the unique sacrifice of Christ, the "one mediator between God and men". But because in his incarnate divine person he has in some way united himself to every man, "the possibility of being made partners, in a way known to God, in the paschal mystery" is offered to all men. He calls his disciples to "take up [their] cross and follow (him)",[Mt.16:24] for "Christ also suffered for (us), leaving (us) an example so that (we) should follow in his steps."[1Pet.2:21] In fact Jesus desires to associate with his redeeming sacrifice those who were to be its first beneficiaries. This is achieved supremely in the case of his mother, who was associated more intimately than any other person in the mystery of his redemptive suffering.
Because St. Maximilian knew and loved the truth of the Gospels, he was found ministering to others and singing praises to God even as he was being starved to death. Maximilian used his suffering to show his fellow prisoners a God who loves us so much that he gave His life to us on the Cross. His own life provides a powerful example of someone who, even in the midst of horrific circumstances, has so much confidence in Christ that he is able to sing out, “For my yoke is easy, my burden light.”
As Christians in the 21st century, it is our privilege to live lives of heroic love. Although most of us won’t be called to the sufferings of St. Maximilian Kolbe, we are ALL called to show and share love in a way that points others to the love of the Cross.
St. Maximillian Kolbe, pray for us.
I spent my spring break in Diriamba, Nicaragua, living with abandoned special-needs children. The experience taught me more than I could ever say or write, but one person’s words and actions are still fresh in my mind.
Our guide Julia (pronounced who-lee-uh) was a no-nonsense woman who spoke heavily accented English. Understanding her was a twofold challenge. First was fighting through her accent, but second was following her train of thought. Julia was full of grand ideas; language was often an inadequate vehicle for the love she shared with everyone she encountered. Her sentences could ramble and her ideas could blur together, yet the message always rang true.
Julia was the quintessential guide. She got us where we needed to go, naturally, but was always there to fill in the necessary information we lacked. She helped us understand Nicaragua in ways we could not have otherwise.
Julia taught us something about wealth. When we saw families living in shacks unfit for an American dog, she taught us to see what they had, not what they lacked. Poverty forced families together, she said. Multiple generations lived together in the same home, spending their lives on the same minuscule pocket of land. We have technology, but how often did we see our families? How much did we truly love our closest relatives? Our hearts ached for the poor, but she reminded us of the powerful love coming from their poverty.
Julia taught us about discipline. She worked alongside an amazing staff at Mustard Seed Communities, the organization that ran the orphanage where we stayed. Blessed with limitless patience, these women worked tirelessly caring for children who had no one else to care for them. For this to be possible, some level of order had to be maintained. The last day we were there, multiple kids were kept inside, unable to play with us or the other children. When it came time to say good-bye, Julia had to hold firm and keep the kids inside. Love is not always nice, and allowing the children free reign was no favor to them.
Julia taught us about pride. Anywhere we went, she glowed as we took in the beauty of her country. Surrounding the poverty and hardship were spectacular views in the mountains, sandy beaches and a volcanic lake that was nothing short of paradise. The homes were bright and clean. No one had much, but what they had was theirs, and that meant something to them. Anytime we ate, she spoke of the national cuisine. They don’t cook with spice, they add it at the end, she said. She spoke of their national cheese, a salty, creamy white cheese served with plantains. She spoke of their national drink, the Macuá, which was a mixture of white rum, orange, guava and lemon juices. Her pride never boasted, only sought to show the beauty and the good in her country
Julia taught us about love. Love is simple, yet strong. It is not always nice, but enables true care. It does not boast, but carries itself confidently. Love extends to every facet of life and extends to everyone encountered. Julia taught us all of this less with words and more with actions. She was ordinarily heroic, doing great things in simple ways. Time will erode many of the memories formed in Nicaragua, yet Julia will stand the test of time. I went to Nicaragua to help those in need, but I left finding I was in as much need as the people of Nicaragua, and most of those lessons came from Julia.
Zack Lemon is a student at Ashland University in Ashland, Ohio and a student leader for the Campus Ministry Leadership Institute, sponsored in part by the Catholic Apostolate Center. This post originally appeared in The Collegian, the student newspaper of Ashland University.
“Then God said, ‘Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness; and let them rule over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the sky and over the cattle and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.’ God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them. God blessed them; and God said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth, and subdue it; and rule over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the sky and over every living thing that moves on the earth.’ … God saw all that He had made, and behold, it was very good” (Genesis 1:26-28, 31).
From this exaltation we begin our reflection on Father’s Day. Many countries set aside the third Sunday of June in honor of both fathers and fatherhood. It’s usually the time when dads are shown the appreciation of their families for all their love, protection, devotion, guidance, caring, wisdom, teaching, entertainment, discipline (ouch), cooking, support, shuttling around, mentoring, coaching, and/or generosity. It’s a totally fair trade-off but also no secret: fatherhood demands much of a man. Unfortunately, not all are blessed to have a father in their lives, and there are many circumstances which contribute to this.
Thankfully, God Himself has provided a model for human fatherhood, someone who He entrusted His own Son to during the crucial formative years of Jesus’ human life: St. Joseph. We look to Saint Joseph as the perfect example of paternity, as he was given the honor of being the guardian of the Holy Family. St. Joseph is not directly quoted in scripture, but what about his actions? Do they speak louder than his words (or lack thereof)? It seems that Joseph’s most frequent biblical deed besides traveling is something men can easily relate to— sleeping before taking action (see Matthew 1:20 and 2:13)... but surely there must be more to being a father than this!?
Of course there is! To me, being a true (Christian) father means being a Christ-like man who bears witness to the perfect love of God, and who is a virtuous man to his children, spouse, and to all he encounters. We hear a lot about Mary’s hugely consequential “Yes” (see Luke 1:38) to the Father’s will at the Annunciation and how this is the Blessed Mother’s complete giving of herself to God. In his own soft-spoken way, though, Joseph also gave his own “Yes” and similarly submitted himself to the will of God. Even with the extraordinary circumstances of his betrothed’s pregnancy, Joseph, in the end, places his trust in the divine will and accepts the paternal role God offers him as part of His plan. Like Mary, Joseph selflessly placed whatever desires and plans he had for his future second to what he had now been called to become— Jesus’ guardian and protector. It is this obedience that makes Joseph such a worthy role model for all men. Being righteous (see Matthew 1:19), Joseph knew he did not have all the answers; let alone the experience, for the fatherhood he was being called to. Instead, he stepped aside in faithful acceptance of God’s will. As Saint John Paul II so beautifully put it:
What emanates from the figure of Saint Joseph is faith. Joseph of Nazareth is a “just man” because he totally “lives by faith.” He is holy because his faith is truly heroic. Sacred Scripture says little of him. It does not record even one word spoken by Joseph, the carpenter of Nazareth. And yet, even without words, he shows the depth of his faith, his greatness. Saint Joseph is a man of great spirit. He is great in faith, not because he speaks his own words, but above all because he listens to the words of the Living God. He listens in silence. And his heart ceaselessly perseveres in the readiness to accept the Truth contained in the word of the Living God. We see how the word of the Living God penetrates deeply into the soul of that man, that just man. (St. John Paul II, Daily Meditations)
This past weekend we celebrated Father’s Day, and whether the father in our lives is a biological one, a father figure, or wears a Roman collar, take the time this week to personally thank both he and God for the impact he’s had on your life. Fatherhood is no easy task and is not for everyone, but the love that flows from this holy calling comes directly from Abba God, “our Father in heaven” (Matthew 6:9-13)! May we be obedient to and cherish these men at all times!
Thomas Wong is an undergraduate at The Catholic University of America currently studying abroad in Rome, Italy.