Today December 31

Today is the feast of St. Melania the Younger, laywoman (383 - 439). Her religious but ambitious parents arranged a marriage for her with the Christian Pinian, a distant relative. She had the idea that the ideal of marriage was complete continence (abstinence), but it sure wasn't her husband's! They got together and had two children, a girl and then a boy, neither of whom survived infancy. The birth of the second child was a medical emergency for Melania; Pinian, who had grown to know and dearly love her, promised her that if she lived, he would live in a continent marriage with her ever after. They did, although it was a long, hard sell on Melania's part to get him to give up his sumptuous dress and wealthy lifestyle. They lived simply in a villa in the Italian countryside and slowly divested themselves of their many possessions, believing, as they did so, that "the superfluity of the rich belongs to their hungry and naked neighbors," according to St. Ambrose. It doesn't say whether or not she ever met that saint, but she (and her husband) did meet St. Augustine (who called them "real lights of the Church"), St. Paulinus of Nola (who called her "blessed little one") and St. Jerome, whose platonic female friend she became.

She stayed in the Holy Land, where, after their deaths, she buried her husband and mother-in-law side by side on the Mount of Olives. She was spiritual adviser to a group of nuns there and was remarkable for her mildness, especially in that austere age. She had a great talent for transcription and she painstakingly copied many manuscripts, in both Greek and Latin, some of which were still extant 500 years later.

She died on this day in 439 after hearing Mass and her last words were echoes of the words of Job: "As the Lord willed, so it is done." St. Melania, pray for us.

Today December 30

Today is the feast of St. Roger (c. 1050 - 1129). He was the reluctant dragon, so to speak. He was a simple, good and effective deacon in Canne, now called Canosa, in the hills of beautiful southeastern Italy. He sure didn't want to be bishop, but he agreed to the will of the people -- and his Church superiors -- and let himself serve.

He was committed to visit every church in his diocese and while he traveled, a black eagle flew above him. He was always very devout and he died a natural death. He is patron of Barletta, Italy, to which his relics were removed when the populace moved there, down to the sea. Good St. Roger, pray for us.

Homily: Holy Family: 2007

Today is the feast of the Holy Family, when we hear the words of St. Paul's epistle to the Colossians: "Wives, be subject to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord. Husbands, love your wives, and do not be harsh with them. Children, obey your parents in everything, for this pleases the Lord. Fathers, do not provoke your children, lest they lose heart." (Col 3: 18-21. RSV)

Topical words, these. They put me in mind of some of our more fundamentalist Protestant brothers and sisters, one of whom confided in me in Nashville that she was "struggling with the command to obey my husband." I told her I was a Catholic and that we agree with the Pope who told us, "Husbands and wives must mutually submit to each other." Her face slammed shut and she wouldn't listen any longer. But anyway, had I known, I could have quoted the Scripture from which the old Holy Father (John Paul II) had gotten his words: "Be subject to one another out of reverence for Christ." (Eph 5:21).

I know a couple who perfectly reflects this teaching. The husband told me: "I would do anything [my wife] asks. She has only to ask me." He also said she, on her part, always gives him a reason. Of course, he's blessed with a loving, wise and very unselfish wife -- so one could say it's easy to comply!

But what about when it's hard? What about when there is an unresolvable difference, as there inevitably is? If perfect agreement can be reached, well, great. But if there isn't, and no compromise possible -- well, then the husband has to make a decision (provided it isn't sinful) and the wife has to just trust him. After all, she tied her wagon to his star. No one made her marry him -- and if they did, then the marriage very well may be invalid.

As a wise man once told me, what husbands most desire and need is respect and what wives most desire and need is love -- not that men don't want to be loved nor that women don't want to be respected. Of course they do! But we're talking MOST. And when there's no conflict . . . no problem. But that's the ideal. The Biblical model given here is the norm. It's possible to be followed and is given us for our good. And we should model our marriages on the union of Christ and the Church. As the husband in that good marriage referred to earlier said in reference to his wife, "I would die for her." Well said. And she would for him. Christ and the Church, true love . . . til death.

[pause]

Let us now profess our Faith . . .

Today December 29

Today is the feast of St. Thomas Becket (1118 - 1170) martyr. He went to school at Merton (which reminds me of ANOTHER famous Thomas) and almost drowned at Wade's Mill in Hertfordshire after jumping in after prey during a duck-hunting expedition (a place which reminds me of still another Thomas, Thomas Clarkson, the slavery abolitionist). He always loved sport, and was a clever youth who enjoyed a rollicking good time. In 1154 he was made archdeacon of Canterbury and in 1155 chancellor of England under Henry II. He and the monarch were great good friends. Thomas dressed sumptuously, brewed his own fine ale, danced, sang and carried on, all without neglecting his civil duties. He ran the exchequer, gave generously to the poor, and even served as general in a sortie in a battle against France. He was raised to the archbishopric of Canterbury by Henry himself, whom he warned, "Should God permit me to be archbishop of Canterbury I should soon lose your Majesty's favour, and the affection with which you honour me would be changed to hatred." How right he was!

Thomas soon put aside his rich dress and donned the simple black cassock of a priest. He ate temperately, doubled his alms-giving, rose early to read (and discuss with friends) the Holy Scriptures, said Mass every day at nine and took a nap every afternoon. He read a book every afternoon at 3:00. His friendship with Henry fared well at first, but then little cracks began to show. At Woodstock, Bishop Thomas refused to pay the "voluntary" tribute to the sheriffs. Then in the matter of Philip de Brois, Thomas upheld the independence of the ecclesiastical court (once freed, Thomas said, the priest Philip could not be re-tried on the same charge [murder] in a civil court). Then came the councils at Westminster and Clarendon. Henry demanded a promise of observance of his royal customs. Actually, Thomas tried to find a way to sign them -- to the point of promising to sign them -- until he read exactly what they said: no cleric could leave the kingdom or appeal to Rome without the king's permission, no one could be excommunicated without consent of the king, and clerics sentenced in ecclesiastical court had to be handed over to civil authority -- the old sticking point again. "By the Lord Almighty," exclaimed Thomas, "no seal of mine should be put to them."

Henry persecuted him -- refused to see him -- leveled fines against him -- refused to let others pay the (totally illegal) charges. Thomas fled by night to the Pope, who was then in France, and resigned his post. Alexander III gently put the episcopal ring back on his finger the next day and upheld him, though he chided him for even considering signing such a document. Thomas (after an extended retreat of 6 years) returned to England. But the breach had been made. Everyone was aligned either with him or against him. At Bur near Bayeux, three bishops lodged complaints against him to King Henry, who famously declared, "Will no one rid me of this troublesome priest?"

Four knights -- by the names Reginald Fitzurse, William de Tracy, Hugh de Morville, and Richard le Breton -- set out at once for Canterbury. "Where is Thomas the traitor? Where is the archbishop?" they yelled, as the monks closed and barricaded the cathedral doors. "Away, you cowards! A church is not a castle," Thomas said to the monks and opened the doors himself. "Here I am," he bravely declared to the knights, as he stood before the altar. They cut him down with swords, as he bravely said, "For the name of Jesus and in defence of the Church I am willing to die!" The hyped-up knights then ran out, shouting, "The king's men! The king's men!"

The universal horror and uproar at a metropolitan slain before the altar of his church in cold blood led to a public confession and whipping of the king in July 1174 and the canonization of St. Thomas by Pope Alexander in 1172 and the solemn translation of his relics from the crypt to behind the high altar. The relics, once the most visited in the kingdom, are there no more, but whether they were removed or destroyed at the time of another powerful King Henry (VIII) is unknown. St. Thomas Becket, pray for us.

Today December 28

Today is the feast of the Holy Innocents (c. 750 AUC). It is also called "the birthday of the holy babes and sucklings" -- in honor of these littlest victims of King Herod's butchery. He was trying to destroy the One "born king of the Jews," whom he didn't know and who actually escaped him into Egypt. These children (anywhere from a half dozen in number on up) were technically called "flores martyrum" . . . "buds" killed by the frost of persecution. They are no ordinary martyrs. Frank Sheed says, "There is anguish for us, 20 centuries after, in thinking of the slain babies and their parents. For the babies, the agony was soon over, in the next world they would know Whom they had died to save and for all eternity would have that glory. For the parents, the pain would have lasted longer; but at death they too must have found that there was a special sense in which God was in their debt, as he had never been indebted to any. They and their children were the only ones who ever agonized in order to save God's life."

So in their honor, let us have a happy feast day. Holy Innocents, pray for us.

Today December 27

Today is the feast of St. John the Evangelist (first century - died c. 100), friend of Our Lord, beloved of Him. His name, "John," even means "gift of God," but also, "one to whom a gift is given [by God]." And surely this great saint, philosopher, theologian and writer (patron of all three), was given great gifts: the revelation of secrets, for one, and the mother of God, for another. Because to him was entrusted Mary, Jesus' mother -- and what possible greater gift could be given (other than eternal life itself)?

According to long tradition, John went to Ephesus after the Pentecost and founded many churches. It was from there the emperor Domitian had him exiled to the island of Patmos, where he wrote the book of Revelation. He later returned to Ephesus, where he wrote his Gospel and three epistles. Somewhat impetuous in nature (he was, after all, nicknamed "Boanerges", or "Son of Thunder"), he was also very generous (he offered to drink of the cup Our Lord drank -- implying he would accept similar suffering and death). He alone of all the apostles is said not to have been a martyr -- indeed, when Jesus was asked "Lord, what about this man?" [meaning John], He said, "If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you?" This may indicate that he was not to die immediately, but to live on. And what a good thing he did so! It gave the early Church the benefit of his long reflection and soaring theology, for which we give him the symbol of the eagle.

Of the stories attached to him later, he is said to have raised his platonic female friend Drusiana from the dead, to have rebuked the philosopher Crato from encouraging two zealous young men to sell all they had in order to buy some precious gems and then smashing them in public to prove their disdain of worldly goods (John encouraged them to use them for the poor), to have resuscitated a dead youth, to have drunk poison without harm, to have restored to faith a reprobate robber -- and pursued him on horseback despite his great age. Week after week he preached at Mass: "My sons, love one another!" When asked why he was always saying the same thing, he replied, "Because it is the commandment of the Lord, and if this alone is obeyed, it is enough."

He died in great age in Ephesus, his last words being, "Lord Jesus, I thank you for welcoming me and knowing that I have longed for you with all my heart." St. John, pray for us.

Today December 26

Today is the ancient feast of St. Stephen (? - 34). Rare indeed is a feast so old and so equally celebrated both East and West. But then today's saint is well-known and his history rock-solid, being recorded faithfully in the Scriptures themselves.

He was one of the first seven deacons, and their acknowledged leader. He attended to charitable works among the widows, making sure both Hebrew- and Greek-speaking women got their fair share, thereby freeing the apostles to preach and to pray. But Stephen himself prayed and preached too, as deacons do today. And his words were full of wisdom and spirit and his reason unassailable, as the contingent of jealous Jews found. He refuted each point they brought against him. Beaten back, they decided to fight dirty and hired several men to swear falsely against him. Stephen's face "shone like the face of an angel" and his gave his brilliant and impassioned defense in Acts 7:2 - 53. He ended with a brave fraternal correction of them: "You, stiff-necked and uncircumcised in heart and ears, you have always resisted the Holy Spirit. Like father, like son. Which of the prophets did your fathers not persecute?" And then he was rewarded with a triumphant vision of Jesus standing at the right hand of God. (I am reminded of the prophetic words of Daniel: "one coming like a Son of Man in the clouds of glory.") And he was stoned to death outside the walls. He died begging forgiveness for his executioners and with the immortal words, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit," he gave over his spirit. They were the words many saints ended their lives with, including the immortal Japanese martyrs, burned to death in a gorge, the mothers holding up their babies, saying "Lord Jesus, receive their souls!" I can hardly read that without tears.

And finally, the Golden Legend says that Stephen triumphed. He triumphed. I've often pondered the heavenly assurance to St. Joan of Arc that she would be saved . . . and then her shock that she found herself burned at the stake! Well, Stephen was stoned. But think about it: he triumphed, he was saved, in the only way that matters. St. Stephen, pray for us.

Today December 25

Today is the birthday of Our Lord Jesus Christ, commonly called Christmas Day. Scott Hahn was impressed with the announcement of the celebration in the Roman Martyrology (now the optional announcement before Mass): "Countless years after the creation of the world, when God in the beginning made out of nothing the heavens and the earth; the 2957th year after the flood; the 2015th year from the birth of Abraham; the 1510th year from Moses and the going out of the people of Israel from Egypt; the 1032nd year from the anointing of King David; in the 65th week according to the prophecy of Daniel; in the 194th Olympiad; the 752nd year from the founding of the city of Rome; the 42nd year of the rule of Octavian Augustus Caesar; all the world being at peace, in the 6th age of the world: Jesus Christ the eternal God and Son of the eternal Father, willing to consecrate the world by His most merciful coming, being conceived by the Holy Spirit and 9 months having passed since His conception, was born in Bethlehem of Judah of the Virgin Mary, being made man. The birthday of Our Lord according to the flesh.

The thing that impressed him was the whole sense of history -- of real, actual, concrete history attached to this day, that is, to Jesus. I mean, we don't often think of Jesus as having being born in the 194th Olympiad, but he was. And it gives it such weight in our eyes. Because we're so used to so much unrooted, free-form kind of scholarly talk about Him -- or pious repetitions -- that we think of Plato and Aristotle and Caesar himself as much more grounded in history. Silly, really. But we surround secular history with such scientific solemnity that religious history seems lightweight by comparison. But it isn't. It's real.

I was glad to hear (from Butler's Lives) that "The notion of an origin [of Christmas] in the Roman Saturnalia of December can be safely disregarded" -- since a friend's Jehovah Witness husband sneered at Christmas as "a pagan feast, you know." No, it's not. But we really don't know what day He was born on. The practice of December 25th began before 336 (but not necessarily before 300) and was first known in Rome. There is some reason to think it was associated with natalis Invicti (birthday of the Unconquered [Sun]) to help fix a date. In the East, the Epiphany (always Jan. 6th) was a much bigger -- and more ancient -- holiday, and for some, like the Armenians, it still is. (Although they celebrate the birth that day, too.)

The actual date may have been tallied forward from March 25th, the traditional date of His conception. Adding exactly nine months, you get December 25th.

And the place has never been in dispute: the little town of Bethlehem, the exact place marked with a silver star in the ground. A beautiful church covers it. "The cave beneath the basilica of the Nativity has an unbroken tradition of authenticity of very great antiquity. In its floor is set a silver star, around which is the inscription: Hic de Virgine Maria Jesus Christus natus est: Here Jesus Christ was born of the Virgin Mary." - Butler's Lives. May here today Jesus Christ, again through Mary, be born in our hearts. Merry Christmas!

Today December 24

Today is the feast of St. Sharbel Maklouf (also spelled Charbel) (1828 - 1898). He is called the "prophet of silence" because he lived the quiet life of a Marionite monk all his adult life, and though he wasn't a "Someone" nor did "great things," he was a great man. He was not afraid to, as Caryll Houselander puts it, "spend his life in small coin down to the last penny." He was a good student; he ran away to the monastery when he was 23; he did his novitiate in one monastery and took his solemn vows in another at age 25. He was ordained a priest when he was 30. He did the lowliest tasks and often fasted. He slept on the hard ground and spent the morning in preparation and prayer, said Mass at noon, and spent the afternoon in thanksgiving. He was struck with paralysis during the Elevation at Mass and died 8 days later, on Christmas Eve, 1898.

A spectral light emanated from his grave where he had been buried simply, no embalming, no coffin. Because of the interest and enthusiasm of the people, 4 months later the monks exhumed his body, which was found to be perfectly incorrupt: undecomposed, pliable and fragrant. It exuded a lovely oil that also smelled nice. The monks put his body inside the church in a wooden coffin and opened it every so often. In 1927 it underwent a thorough examination and again in 1950. He was canonized in 1965 (right at the end of Vatican II) and then in 1976 when the coffin was opened, it was nothing but a skeleton. But it had been a powerful sign for a long time. The Marionite monks of Lebanon counted all the miracles that attended his gravesite and they numbered over 1200. St. Sharbel, pray for us.

Today December 23

Today is the feast of Blessed Margaret of Savoy (? - 1464), laywoman (at least part of the time.) She was kind of like a Maria von Trapp in reverse: she married a European widower military officer with several children, and then went into the convent. She and her husband had no children together, but she raised his children by a former marriage as her own (let's hope she taught them to sing!) and engaged herself in works of mercy, including the difficult one of trying to relieve some of the victims of the famine in Genoa. After her husband Theodore's death, she found herself accosted by numerous suitors for such a (still) desirable hand, and endeavoring to strengthen her position as an un-remarried widow (she didn't desire another marriage), she took a vow of widowhood and a life of good works. One of her suitors (Philip Visconti of Milan) went to Pope Martin V to get her to change her mind, but she stood strong.

She took some women and girls under her wing as third-order Dominicans (she naturally inclined toward that order, since she was a great platonic friend of St. Vincent Ferrer), and they lived together in a life of quiet prayer, study and charitable works for some 25 years. With a new pope, she asked for the chance to incorporate and become nuns. This privilege was given, but it was not without (spiritual) cost. She was accused of hypocrisy, of tyrannizing over her nuns and even of rampant self-indulgence which supposedly caused her ill health. None of these statements was true. Finally, her little convent was accused of being a hotbed of Waldensianism and their spiritual director thrown in prison. She, livid, went to the castle to plead for justice, and not only was she not heard, she had her hand crushed between the heavy doors of the castle for her pains! The man was eventually vindicated, but it took some time. Margaret always remained serene and strong. Blessed Margaret of Savoy, pray for us.

Today December 22

Yesterday was the (old) feast of St. Frances Xavier Cabrini (1850 - 1917). Her early life was a series of frustrations and disappointments. Taught by the Daughters of the Sacred Heart (and on her part, an excellent student with a bent toward education -- she even got her teaching certificate -- and especially a bent toward serving in the Far East), she thought to apply as a postulant there, but . . . rejected! Then she tried the Sisters of Cannossa . . . same thing. So she obeyed her bishop, who asked her to take over the religious House of Providence, an orphanage run by would-be sisters. These greedy and thoroughly incompetent women made her life hell and "realising the hopelessness of the task, the bishop closed down the orphanage, and thus addressed Sister Cabrini: 'You want to be a missionary. I know no institute of missionary sisters, so found one yourself.' " - Angelus Book of Saints. So she did. Taking some of the girls from the orphanage who were interested, she founded the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart. No money, no experience, and no support for the Cardinal Vicar and others of the clergy, they still threw themselves into missionary work locally, still with the goal of serving in the Far East. But when her bishop suggested she emigrate to America to help the downtrodden Italians there, she balked. She approached the pope, Leo XIII, who famously said: "Not to the east, but to the west. You will find a vast field for labor in the United States." That settled it. She gave up her own will and arranged for passage. After a long, difficult journey, she was met with: opposition from the clergy! The bishop, who twice had begged her to come, told her when she got there that the deal was off and to go home to Italy. It turned out he'd had a fight with one of the "big givers," who'd pulled the money for the planned orphanage, school, and convent. Never a "halfway woman," Mother Cabrini sought her out and got her to change her mind. The first institution went up in New York. Soon -- and almost miraculously, for they had no money -- schools, convents, hospitals and orphanages went up all over the country, from New York to Seattle. She really was an answer to the poor people's prayers.

How did she do it? Well, for one, whenever a problem arose, Mother Cabrini would look at the work and ask, "Who is doing this? We -- or the Lord?" She had total trust in God. Money came in as she needed it. She would do her homework; she even made her sisters tape measure a building she wanted to purchase to make sure she was not being short-changed. She put medals on the property she needed and prayed to the saints. She accosted the owners when she knew who they were and somehow, some way, persuaded them to sell. And when she, for instance, only knew the last name of the owner of a hotel she needed -- and it was the fairly common one of "Clark" -- she got her intrepid sisters to call every Clark in the New York phone book til she got him! Wow.

"She is an encouraging saint. Certain natural characteristics might have made her an unlovable woman. Very able -- there was 'no fooling Mother Cabrini,' said one who tried -- a strict disciplinarian, she could have been an autocrat. . . . Owing to want of experience, she was a first narrow in some respects. But grace perfected nature. She had faith, she was a woman of prayer, and she was humble. She was ready to learn, to recognize her faults and to work at them." She had a knack for working with prisoners. At Sing Sing she worked among the most hardened criminals, and had good fruits there.

She died in Chicago on this date ninety years ago. Intrepid Mother Cabrini, we love you; pray for us.

Today December 21

Today is the feast of St. Peter Canisius (1521 - 1597), SJ. He was "foremost among zealous missionaries who saved half of Germany for the Faith" - A Summary of Catholic History. A Jesuit, he was well trained at the Universities of Cologne and Louvain, and indefatigable in preaching, writing (his catechisms "came in all sizes"), and teaching -- from imperial diets down to the littlest children -- and this through all the Swiss cantons (many of which were antagonistic to Catholicism) and Germany (which was at the time under the influence of the Lutheranizing Emperor Maximilian II). Fearless, he was also patient and moderate. Excessive severity rubbed him the wrong way, and thus he didn't like to travel with St. Charles Borromeo, whom he called the "Iron Man." He patiently and graciously met every argument to Catholicism, which he answered, and followed faithfully the reform of the Council of Trent, down to enforcing oaths of obedience (to the pope) from bishops and professors. See, he felt that those ministering and teaching in the Catholic Church should adhere to all her beliefs and teachings. What a concept!

"St. Peter Canisius, hard-working rather than brilliant, was an example capable of imitation, and he was imitated." - A Summary of Catholic History. St. Peter Canisius, doctor of the Church, pray for us.

Today December 20

Today is the sweet feast of St. Dominic of Silos (c. 1000 - 1073). He was a real introvert, of good peasant stock, who kept solitude, worked hard, watched his flock and loved to read. The humble abbey he built at Silos in Castile (whither he emigrated, fleeing persecution in Navarre -- the king there, Garcia III, threatened him with death for refusing to turn monastery lands over to him) had a remarkable library. I like him already.

He was a reforming monk, later an abbot, but not one who placed himself aloof from the people or from manual work. He dug the garden himself and cleared the land, as well as encouraged health and growth in the new abbey. Folks could always come to him; it is said that there were no diseases known to man not cured by his prayers. He had a special love for the slaves and it is said he caused 300 of them to be freed. Not a bad record, that.

St. Dominic was his namesake, and thus the Order of Preachers have had a special devotion to Dominic of Silos ever since. Up until the start of the Spanish Civil War in 1931, the abbot of Silos brought the staff of St. Dominic to the royal house when the queen was in labor and left it there til the birth of her child, boy or girl. Now of course they haven't any use for such things. St. Dominic of Silos, pray for us.

Today December 19

Today is the feast of Blessed Urban V (1310 - 1370), pope. He was a Frenchman through and through, a Benedictine and a nobleman, a student and then a professor at the Universities of Paris and Avignon -- quiet a resume, even for those days. But the crowning achievement of his pontificate was bringing the papacy back to Rome from its long exile in Avignon. Too bad he hadn't the courage to keep it there. He was disappointed that he wasn't able to crush brigandage in Rome (or even make a dent in it), nor to quell the revolt of Perugia and disappointed that France was at war with England, the French court was revolting, and his health was failing. (In these days, he would no doubt cite only the "health reasons" for leaving.) All of Rome, including the great Petrarch, tried to persuade him to stay, and even the great St. Bridget of Sweden rode in to town on her white mule to plead with him -- all to no avail. He left on September 5 in 1370 and by December 19th he was dead. Petrarch said, "Urban would have been reckoned among the most glorious of men if he had caused his dying bed to be laid before the altar of St. Peter's and had there fallen asleep with a good conscience, calling God and the world to witness that if ever the pope had left this spot it was not his fault but that of the originators of so shameful a flight." Whoa. Powerful words. They remind me of the immortal line in "Jerry Maguire" when the Renee Zellweger character says, "I love him for the man he almost is." Well, we love Urban for the saint he almost is. Blessed Urban, pray for us.

Today December 18

Today is the feast of St. Wunibald aka St. Winebald (702 - 761). He was an Englishman who after a particularly moving and tragic pilgrimage to Rome with his father Richard and brother Willibald decided to dedicate his life to God. His father had died suddenly in Italy and the young man stayed 7 years in Rome studying for the priesthood -- and getting a liberal education. He became a Benedictine priest and labored in Germany with his kinsman Boniface -- back when Germany was little more than a wilderness. Heidenheim, the co-ed monastery Wunibald founded, was certainly built on wild country. But he brought peace, quiet and culture there as well as the inestimable Word of God. He was very ill th last three years of his life, but interestingly he never took a "priest's day off." He even had an altar installed in his room so he could say Mass when he couldn't make it to the chapel. This he would do even if there was no one there to hear it! Kids, it's important to note that a roomful of laymen -- even a thousand or more -- cannot have a Mass, but one priest and NO ONE in the congregation CAN. Interesting.

He died after attempting to visit his relative's (Boniface's) shrine in Fulda. He was buried in the church in Heidenheim and 16 years later when his tomb was opened, his body was found to be perfectly incorrupt. These relics were later -- in the time of the Reformation -- either removed or destroyed, and his shrine is now empty. St. Wunibald, pray for us.

Today December 17

Today is the feast of St. Lazarus, raised from the dead by Christ, brother of Martha and Mary of Bethany, friend of Our Lord (first century). All we have on him for certain is what is written of him in the Scriptures (the 11th chapter of St. John). There are numerous traditions of what happened to him after his resuscitation. The oldest (and more likely) story is that he and his sisters and others landed in Cyprus, settled at Kition (now called Larnaka), preached among the people, and was even made their bishop. His relics were transferred from there to Constantinople at the church of St. Lazarus there.

The Westerners, not to be outdone, insisted that they sailed to Provence in France, settled at Marseilles, preached there, was made their bishop, and martyred at the place now occupied by the prison called, appropriately enough, Saint-Lazare.

There is abundant evidence that he was honored from the very first days of the Church. Even the place where he was raised from the dead (a tomb area called the Lazarium) was the site of a pilgrimage which took place on the Saturday before Palm Sunday. Even St. Augustine says that traditionally in Africa, the story of his raising from the dead was read at the night office on that day.

St. Lazarus has a special place in the hearts of Hispanics everywhere. He is considered a great patron and protector. St. Lazarus, pray for us.

Today December 16

Today is the feast of St. Adelaide, laywoman (931 - 999). She was a married woman, 4 children, previously married in an unhappy marriage, and had a difficult life to say the least. Although she was married first to the King of Italy (Lothair of Provence) and gave birth to a single child, a daughter with the surprisingly modern name of Emma, and was married next to Otto I, Emperor, that didn't mean she was always treated royally. She was roughly thrown into prison by the successor of her first husband (Berenger) and barely managed to escape after four months in the dungeon. Her crime? Refusing to marry the barbarian's son. Then she was exiled TWICE by her conniving daughter-in-law Theophano, once during the reign of her son Otto II and then during the reign of her grandson Otto III (and she was supposed to be vice-regent with Theophano!). Finally the princess died and Adelaide returned to court to be with her grandson. She helped him reign til he came of age in 995 and then she could retire. She built and restored many monasteries and convents and was heavily involved in the Cluniac reform of the Benedictines, which was kind of ironic because a major plan of that reform was to completely disengage the monks from any secular authority. Each house was responsible only to itself and to the pope . . .which was a good thing because monasteries were becoming quite worldly and convenient places to drop off your second and subsequent sons! It was a movement designed to wed humility with authority and over all to put on love. It was entirely appropriate that one who was such a good mother should back a reform so like unto motherhood. She died on a journey to see her nephew Rudolph in 999. St. Adelaide, pray for us.

Today December 15

Today is the feast of Father Lukas Etlin (1864 - 1927). Although not formally canonized, his cause for beatification was opened in 1960.

His was a life that appeals to me, if only for the fact that he loved a) art and b) comedy (among many other things) -- two subjects often ignored or bypassed entirely by most other saints. He was a comic actor in college in Switzerland, and was an artist in Missouri (at Conception Abbey, which still is active -- and artistic -- today. Besides the glorious paintings [by Father Lukas, et. al.] in the abbey church, they make and distribute beautiful cards and artwork through their Printery House.) He emigrated to America after hearing an appeal at his university from a Benedictine from America asking for priests and monks. He was just a student when he heard the call, but he joined the monastery in Europe and took his habit -- and Holy Orders -- in this country. His favorite hobby was -- and remained all his life -- fishing. So he appeals to my husband too!

Lukas was direct and straightforward -- idealistic, too. While most folks told him to "Be realistic," he went ahead and launched "one of the most amazing one-man relief programs the world has ever seen -- the Caritas program." - Modern Saints. It provided money for food for convents, monasteries, orphanages and seminaries throughout Europe between the wars. He knew firsthand how they were struggling, and he'd heard how some of them had lost their only means of support during the First World War and how some of the religious were actually dying of hunger. One man's efforts (especially through his published words) made a real difference!

He then started the Adopt-a-Seminarian program to sponsor men who couldn't otherwise afford to study for the priesthood in war-devastated Europe. Initially the scholarship program helped 3000 men -- including many who later became bishops, abbots and even cardinals -- and which continues today.

His words were expressed not only face-to-face, but through the publication service he started. He really believed in books, magazines and pamphlets and he's right about the power and the potential clarity of words. His favorite topics were the Blessed Sacrament, the Sacred Heart and the saints.

He was a simple man and he lived simply. He discouraged excessive penances for the nuns under his spiritual direction, but that didn't mean he babied himself. He was toughest on himself -- and that extended even to making sure he said Mass every day. Father Lukas Etlin, pray for us.

Today December 14

Today is the (new) feast of St. John of the Cross (1543 - 1591); his old feast being November 24th. Born John de Yepes in a town near Avila to a poor weaver (who'd come from wealth but had been disowned for marrying a lower-class woman), John grew up without a father (he'd died when John was just a baby), worked hard in school and at the hospital joined the Carmelites and went to the University of Salamanca. In 1567 he met his great female platonic friend, St. Teresa of Avila, who convinced him to reform the friars (as she had already reformed the Carmelite nuns.) She could get away with teasing him. When he came to the convent with another friar, she said, "With John here, we have a monk and a half!" (He was of a rather short stature.) He was intelligent and holy, and endowed with "extraordinary sweetness of nature." He completed the reform of the Carmelite friars in 1568 (not that everybody accepted it). You'd think such a good man -- a poet -- wouldn't be controversial, but you'd be wrong. He was kidnapped twice by disgruntled brothers in the Faith and even once imprisoned by the Inquisition! It was in prison he wrote some of his finest works.

And it is by his wonderful mystical writings that we best know him. Through these books we open a door on spirituality for everyone. The basis of each person's relationship with God is love. But it's no passive thing. We don't gain friendship with God without working at it. We prepare on earth for that great face-to-Face meeting in heaven. We prepare with prayer, with faithfulness, and through trials and suffering. And we will, at the end, be examined on our love. John said: "Love is the inclination of the soul, the strength and power by which it goes to God, for by means of love the soul is united to God."

One of the most powerful images of this love is the union of two married people. "Even as in the consummation of marriage according to the flesh the two become one flesh, as Scripture says, so when this spiritual marriage between God and the soul is consummated there are two natures in one spirit and love of God."

But through it all, he remained very rational and logical. Mystical and endowed with great ecstasies as he was, he still saw that spirituality that is not rooted in reason is the most dangerous of delusions. He was spiritual adviser to the sisters and he categorically told them to IGNORE all visions they had, and to just keep going in their state in life. I love that. I wish more folks would follow his eminently reasonable advice. Next time you get a vision and a message, don't rush out to write it down and broadcast it, but just keep living your life in humility and goodness. If God wants something done, it will get done.

And finally, he must have felt somewhat of a failure, or at least ineffectual, since his much-worked-for reform was actively fought, and even though he was (briefly) appointed prior in Segovia, he was deprived of his office and died in semi-exile, if not actual disgrace, in Ubeda. But despite these crosses, he never wavered, he never surrendered. He has been called the greatest mystic in the Christian tradition. Gifted with great graces and mystical experiences, he dutifully translated these into exquisite poetry and profound spiritual direction, which "have become almost the norm for interpreting the mystical ascent to God." - Anthology of Christian Mysticism. He was declared a doctor of the Church by Pius XI in 1926. His last words (said at midnight as the bell was ringing for Matins) were: "Glory be to God!" St. John of the cross, pray for us.

Today December 13

Back last December 13th, I wrote:

Today is the feast of St. Lucy (died 304), patroness of eye diseases and disorders, and also of the cities of Syracuse, and against throat ailments and hemorrhage. Her poor mother suffered continual hemorrhage and was cured at the tomb of St. Agatha. Lucy's faith was instrumental in the cure, as was the mother's own faith and humility as she reached out to touch the saint's relics, not unlike the Bible story where the woman who suffered similarly reached out to touch Jesus' robes. Lucy convinced her mother to let her stay a virgin and pledge her life to Christ. She divested herself of her dowry and gave all to the poor. Her fiance, naturally disturbed, turned her in to the consul Paschasius, who first scourged her and then threatened to throw her into a brothel. That was when she could not be moved, even when pulled by many men and oxen. The good God protected her honor. She was burned and then stabbed in the throat where she stood. She died saying, "You obey your masters' laws, and I shall obey the laws of my God. You fear your masters and I fear God. You are careful not to offend them, I take pains not to offend God. You want to please them, I wish to please Christ. Do then what you think will be of benefit to you, and I shall do what I think is good for me." Amen, sister! I think her patronage of eyes came from her name, which means "light" and the eyes provide light to the body. In the earliest documents of her life, from which the above came, there is no mention of her pulling out her eyes or any special kind of eye torture by her persecutors.

It's hard to add anything to that summary. I would add, I think, that Lucy was very strong and noble, and that in a vision, St. Agatha told her it was HER faith that healed her mother! I think that's important. In many cases Our Lord says the same thing ("Your faith has healed you", or even "He was not able to work any miracles in that district because of their lack of faith"), so it has the ring of Truth, but it's a favor for another, rather than for one's self. And I think we should have FAITH that miracles and healings can happen for our loved ones . . . And is that faith itself a gift? I suppose. But it's important to remember there's also an element of RESPONSE, over which we DO have control -- unlike a gift, which, initially at least, we do not. Lucy, dear Lucy, responded with her whole being -- and not just there at the tomb of St. Agatha, but also when she gave all the contents of her hope chest and dowry to the poor. Her poor, confused fiance! At first he even helped, thinking she was selling off her possessions in order to buy an even RICHER property . . . and I guess she was. It's in the land of Heaven, where she now resides. Dear St. Lucy, pray for us.

Today December 12

Today we celebrate a great saint -- and one of my favorite people -- the Virgin Mary. We celebrate her as she appeared to Juan Diego in 1531 under the title "Our Lady of Guadalupe" -- and we know exactly how she looked, because we have an exact image of her in the form of a miraculous painting on his poncho. And it's miraculous in many ways: from the roses gathered in it in December on a rocky hill where nothing grew, to the very fact of its existence now (long after it should have disintegrated), to the nature of its very art. I have an interest in art, so I was surprised and amazed to learn that the head and hands of our Lady were painted in oils, the rose-colored dress, angel and clouds in tempura, the blue-green mantle in watercolors and the background in fresco, almost unheard of (completely unheard of to me) in the BEST of circumstances but here it is all executed on sackcloth, a burlap-like material made of cactus fibers. Again I say it: amazing.

It was directly responsible -- well, it and Our Lady's influence and intercession with Almighty God, actually -- for the conversion of 8 million Mexicans. Its power was without words, but with its image itself. Our Lady stands in front of the sun, blocking it out -- the sun was one of the principle Aztec gods. She was standing on the moon, supplanting it -- the moon was another god. She wore a simple back cross around her neck, a cross much like the Franciscan missionaries carried, and that the conquistadors displayed on their banners (and that Montezuma's sister saw in a dream 10 years before they arrived). The white fur at her neck and sleeves and the golden stars on her mantle showed she was royalty. The angel holding her aloft showed she was a heavenly being. The hands clasped in prayer showed there was One greater than she. All this from a picture!

And she is pregnant. I think this condition is partially why she is the patroness of the unborn -- and a symbol of the gentle and relentless fight to save them from death. She is also patroness of all the Americas -- so she is ours also. But there is a special place for her in Mexican hearts. As Pope Benedict XIV said: "God has not done likewise to any other nation." Blessed Virgin of Guadalupe, pray for us.

Today December 11

Today we celebrate the feast of St. Daniel the Stylite (died 493). He is the second of the famous pillar-sitting saints, the first being St. Simeon the Stylite, whose mantle he inherited at Simeon's death in 459. I was under the impression that the pillar dwellers neither came down nor had visitors come up, but they DID occasionally have folks come up. For example, Simeon had Daniel come up, where he gave him his blessing and his prophecy that he would suffer greatly for our Lord. And when (eventually) Daniel took his place at the top of a (different) pillar, he had St. Gennadius, the bishop, come up to lay hands on him to ordain him a priest. But in general, those ascetics stayed up there. It was cold, it was rugged, food was scanty to nonexistent -- but still they stayed and prayed, til some of them lost the use of their legs! (like St. Daniel did)

Modern folk like to laugh at them, but, gee, they have the right to express themselves in this dramatic way, don't they? Wouldn't the world, even the hagiographical world, be much poorer if everyone remained indoors on solid ground and always acted properly, for goodness' sake? I like to think of grizzled, tough and praying Daniel like an Indian holy man alone on top of the mountain. Folks would make the pilgrimage to ask the questions and relay the intentions important to them. Well, so did Daniel's visitors. From the great (Emperors Leo I and his successor Zeno were great admirers and humble petitioners) to the lowly, Daniel welcomed them all. You might think such severe conditions would breed a rather severe character, but you would be wrong. Daniel preached "the love of God and the care of the poor and almsgiving and brotherly love." Nice. Many flocked to see him. Some even came with a wicked intent, like those who sent a prostitute to dissuade him, or, failing that, to ridicule him. She wasn't able to seduce him, but lied and said that she did, until she finally broke down and named the names of the men who put her up to it.

And his pillar wasn't like a flagpole. It was actually 2 pillars fastened together with iron bars and masonry, with a little hut atop and a balcony all around. But it was still tough living. And Daniel didn't ascend to it until after 9 years of preparation.

He lived up there for many years while the world went on below. He had the spirit of the Desert Fathers with their tenacity and patience. St. Daniel, pray for us.

Today December 10

Today is the feast of St. Miltiades, pope (reigned 311 - 314). He was NOT a martyr, since it was during his reign, notably, that Christianity was decriminalized and peace was restored. Christians came out of the woodwork and celebrated day and night with hymns and prayers after 10 years of enduring sometimes violent persecution.

St. Miltiades was a moderate man, "an excellent man" according to St. Augustine (not a bad authority, that), and he walked a fine line between welcoming back the lapsi (the apostates who broke under pressure -- sometimes severe pressure, like torture) and maintaining the purity of the faith. Push came to shove during the heresy of Donatism, which held that sacraments given by an unworthy minister were invalid (and precipitated by the appointment as bishop of Carthage Caecilian, who had given over the sacred books under persecution). St. Miltiades ruled in favor of Caecilian, and against the Donatists, without in fact supporting apostasy or indifferentism. It's just that the sacraments operate ex operare operatum, or despite the worthiness of the minister. Which makes sense, of course. Who wants to examine the conscience of his priest each and every time he presents himself for a Sacrament? A person would go nuts trying to figure out what the state of his priest's soul was. It doesn't matter. How wise, how moderate, how practical . . . and how very rude and countercultural it seemed at the time. But Miltiades had suffered plenty at the hands of Maximian in the years before legalization, and he was tough, tough, tough . . . though compassionate. St. Miltiades, pray for us. We need more men like you!

Homily: Second Sunday of Advent: 2007

Brothers and sisters, I have been told that Advent is a time of introspection, and I think that's a fair statement. So, I've been thinking, quietly, not excitedly like the culture has, and I think that not all about our religion is pretty nor attractive nor for lack of a better word, "tame." I think it's a force to be reckoned with, and I think it's radical and scary and controversial. I think to atheists it's a puzzlement -- and a dangerous one at that. What did Algernon Swinburne say:

Thou hast conquered, O pale Galilean,
And the world hast grown grey with thy breath . . .

And I think that's an accurate, if poetic, description of how the world looks at Christianity. I think it hints of dark doings and fastings and asceticism that the writer doesn't understand, but I think that there's an element of truth to it. Because I think that Jesus HAS conquered -- and will conquer, and that makes some people very, very nervous. Listen to today's first reading, a prophecy about Him:

He shall strike the ruthless with the rod of his mouth,
and with the breath of his lips he shall slay the wicked.

A friend made me think about Jesus, specifically: is He unique enough to justify attempting to convert others of long-standing mainstream non-Christian religions, such as Buddhism? Well, although Jesus is similar to all of us -- He is a man, after all -- and has qualities similar to other deities (or ideas of the One Deity), because He is God, as well, I think that He IS indeed unique . . . certainly "unique enough"! I have close family members who are Buddhists, and let me tell you, their peace of spirit and equanimity is to be greatly admired. Their devotion is strong, and humble, and rooted in deep tradition. But, heck, the same could be said of the pagan Stoics, and that doesn't make Zeus a real god! :) Jesus IS, Jesus WAS, true: a real, live personage who lived on this earth. He existed. But the things He said, the things He did, could not be explained as a mere man. A mere man who claims to be God is either insane or evil: a fool or a knave. And the beauty of Our Lord's teachings (recognizable to all), and the profundity of His miracles make it clear He was neither. He MUST be God. And who ever died and rose again? THAT surely is unique! (Of course, one could deny He actually died, as do the Muslims, but that is a different story. -- And unlikely. The Romans, the Roman Army in particular, were experts in death.)

"Jesus kept pointing people to himself, saying, 'Come unto me.' Buddha said, 'Look not to me; look to my dharma (doctrine).' Buddha also said, 'Be ye lamps unto yourselves.' Jesus said, 'I am the light of the world.' Buddha, Confucius, Muhammad and other religious founders performed no miracles and did not rise from the dead. Jesus offered his many miracles and his resurrection as evidence for his divinity." - Peter Kreeft. But even given that -- that He is indeed unique and worth sharing with, and inviting conversion from Buddhism, Islam, Hinduism, et. al., -- I think we need to know what we are getting into. (And Advent is the perfect time to contemplate that.) What does St. John the Baptist say about Him in the Gospel today:

He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.

And what, pray tell, is "baptism by fire"? Ooh, it's bad. It hurts. It's radical and extreme, though strengthening and enlightening. I won't say it's mindless "hazing" -- it's more like a fireman's first fire, or a soldier's first battle, or a doctor's first surgery. It's being thrown into the pool and told to swim. Yikes. But if we endure it, if we rise to the challenge, if we do our best, well, there's nothing better.

So, let's welcome Him into our homes and our hearts, by all means, but realize what we are asking for!

[pause]

Let us now profess our faith . . .

Today December 9

Today is the feast of St. Peter Fourier (1565 - 1640). He studied at a Jesuit college and did very well, as he was endowed with great intellectual gifts and a prodigious memory. He was ordained a priest, got a doctorate in theology and was in a position to do the Church a world of good. Poor guy, he met with failure again and again.

First, in his first parish, which should have considered itself lucky to have him, his efforts to reform were either ignored or met with ridicule. Then in his next parish, Mattaincourt, (which he picked because it seemed most in need . . . so perhaps he shouldn't have expected much) he TRIED to start a school for boys, believing as he did that free education for children was the key to improving his parish's life. Dismal failure. However, he was able to start a free school for girls and he succeeded overwhelmingly.

He was what one might call a "liberal" although that is sort of a pejorative right now. At any rate, he was "progressive." His education methods were modern compared to the current ones: he wrote little plays and songs for the girls to perform so they'd remember their lessons better (a method frowned on at the time), and he believed Protestant students should be treated "kindly and lovingly. Do not let the other children interfere with or tease them. Do not speak harshly of their religion but when occasion serves, show them how good and reasonable are the precepts and practices of ours." He even refused to call them "heretics."

Growing directly from the free school for girls (and the enthusiastic women volunteers) was his order the Canonesses Regular of St. Augustine of the Congregation of Our Lady. They are now in several countries (besides their native France.)

He truly felt that his order, the Canons Regular, could undertake the education of boys now, especially ones who had no religious order to take care of them and appealed to the pope with confidence. But "in Rome in the 17th century it had been forgotten that there was nothing inconsistent with the dignity of the priesthood in teaching in 'elementary schools' " and he was rejected. He accepted the decision, of course, but he was very hurt. He never burned his bridges, though, and when the Jesuits were suppressed in the next century, they turned over many of their colleges to the Canons Regular. He died on this date in 1640 in self-imposed (political) exile in Franche-Comte (since he wouldn't declare allegiance to King Louis XIII.) He was a humble man, but he lived life on his own terms. St. Peter Fourier, pray for us.

Today December 8

Today is the relatively new feast of the Immaculate Conception of Mary, also formerly known as the Conception of St. Anne, since what took place concerned that saint. The feast itself, and on this date, is actually quite old (7th century in Palestine, spreading to Italy by the 9th and all of Europe by the 11th), but the name is new, since the solemn definition of Immaculate Conception wasn't given us til 1854! (For the Catholic Church, that's relatively recent. For some Protestant sects, that even pre-dates them.) I read an awful lot which really needed a philosopher to fully appreciate, but here's Butler's Lives' lucid explanation. Everyone knew she WAS conceived, everyone knew she WAS sanctified -- they just disagreed about WHEN exactly the two happened. "The sanctification of our Lady rather than her bare conception is the object of the church's devotion. . . . In 1661 Pope Alexander VII declared that the feast celebrated the immunity of our Lady from original sin in the first moment of the creation of her soul and its infusion into her body, i.e., the moment of 'passive conception' in the sense of the Catholic doctrine."

What helped out was the development of science which clearly proveed a new human life -- complete with a new, unique and lifelong genetic code -- is created immediately at fertilization, i.e. conception. This is previous to so-called quickening (or independent movement in the womb) and even previous to implantation. It occurs in the Fallopian tubes of the mother and is a great natural wonder. The soul comes into being at this point -- and lives forever. As my pastor said to me when I told him I was pregnant with my 4th, "Just think . . . another immortal soul." Would that more folks had such a profound, proper and objective realization!

Our Lady conceived without sin, pray for us.

Today December 7

Today is the feast of St. Mary Joseph Rossello (1811 - 1880). This great and compassionate woman saint is a fitting follow-up to yesterday's saint. She, too, befriended and protected children. Of even the naughty ones, she said, "They have been unhappy. We must make them happy. We must be angels toward them." There are pictures of her holding them in her lap, graciously smiling. And she died with the words: "Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit."

St. Mary Joseph even died with a little girl by her side -- a little African slave girl ransomed by their spiritual director and taken in by "Mother," as they called St. Mary. Mother Rossello founded shelters for homeless girls -- and she took all in, no questions asked. Many were sick, all had been abused, all were frightened, some were violent. She looked upon them all as blessings. Would that more people even today see them the same way, and not as liabilities! She had a great -- and fruitful -- devotion to St. Joseph, of whom she said, "To St. Joseph, all children are images of the Child he reared."

She spoke to St. Joseph in familiar terms, as one man speaks to another. During her whole long and debilitating illness, she could be heard talking to someone. The infirmarian thought maybe her patient was losing her mind, until she crept close to hear her say, "My sweet saint, keep my daughters [she was the founder of the Daughters of Mercy] under your protection. Be with the Institute always. Protect my little children."

And that devotion paid off. The homeless shelter was called the House of Providence. One day the HOP had no food and no money to buy any. She ordered all the sisters and girls to the chapel to pray. Then, dramatically, she said, "Check the poorbox." Nothing. No matter. We have prayed too briefly, or too poorly -- we must pray more." After an hour, she returned to the box. There was just enough to feed them all.

Though this strong woman, born in poverty, fourth of nine children of a potter in Savona, Italy, good at math (always a delightful gift in a girl) and immensely spiritual, was a serene and faithful pray-er, she suffered great spiritual dryness in her life. She felt useless, worthless, condemned. Her prayers were rote, she suffered doubt, and met with no consolation. She called these many last years of her life her "darkness." I find it a common occurrence in the lives of the saints. In vain did the sisters, her Daughters of Mercy, remind her of all her great accomplishments. She still suffered the darkness. But til the end, she never stopped praying, and was rewarded with a release. She rejoiced with her platonic male friend, Father Filomeno, when the fog lifted. She said, "How good that you are here with me and that He made you His messenger!"

I told you already her final words. But her witness continued after death -- even physically. 58 years after her death, her body was found incorrupt. And her heart, which was removed to be taken to the old nuns' home, was also incorrupt and still bled. It bleeds still. Generous St. Mary Joseph Rossello, pray for us.

Today December 6

Today is the feast of St. Nicholas, died 343. Yes, Virginia, there really IS a Saint Nicholas. This great patron of all children is associated with Christmas and with gift-giving because his feast falls in December and he was renowned for his kindness and generosity when he was bishop of Myra in Turkey. The most famous incident was when an impoverished man with three daughters was considering giving them over to prostitution so they could make a living. Nicholas, hearing this, went under cover of night to the man's hut and threw a bag of gold in through the window. The eldest girl was not only saved from prostitution but was able to afford a dowry and be married, saving her from a fate worse than death. Soon after, Nicholas did the same for the second girl. The father resolved to stay awake the third time to see who their mysterious benefactor might be. Sure enough, Nicholas crept to the house with a third bag of gold, which he again threw in the window. The father jumped up and apprehended him. He was astonished to see it was the good bishop. Nicholas extracted a promise from the father not to reveal his identity, and parents have kept the secret from that day to this, although nowadays St. Nick is more likely to toss the presents down the chimney rather than in the window.

Nicholas is also the patron of sailors. While he was yet alive, he was called upon by sailors in a horrible storm. He appeared, saying, "You called me, here I am!" And I find it very interesting that rather than just standing there regally and calming the storm, Nicholas threw his back into it and helped batten down the sails. The storm was calmed as well. But I like that story because it makes me think of my religion teacher's thoughtful criticism of a movie, "Jesus of Nazareth," that Franco Zeffirelli film, when it came out on TV years ago. She criticized the portrait of Jesus, dressed in immaculate white and not a hair out of place, stepping daintily into one of the boats, with all the fishermen apostles bustling about, working. She said Our Lord would have lent a hand, too.

And finally, Nicholas was responsible for a latter-day miracle of the loaves, so to speak. During a severe famine in his province, Nicholas heard of some ships down in the harbor loaded with grain. He went down and asked them each to donate some of the grain to the people who were starving, suggesting a hundred measures of wheat from each ship. "No, Father, we dare not," the captains replied. The cargo had been weighed at Alexandria and they'd be prosecuted if it was light when it arrived at its destination. Nicholas told them to trust him, relieve the people, and the ships would not be found wanting. To their credit, the captains agreed. And lo and behold, the cargo was just as heavy at unloading as it had been in Alexandria. Praise God.

Nicholas always defended the innocent and was particularly compassionate to those were on death row. He is said also to have raised a dead boy after his father's impassioned prayers to him. And unusually for his time, he was known to be kind to the Jews, several of whom had a devotion to him. He died in peace, singing the hymn In te Domine speravi and died at the words "Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit" -- great last words if ever I heard them. Have a great St. Nicholas' Day everyone!

Today December 5

Today is the feast of St. Sabas (439 -532). He was a great Cappadocian Father, defender of orthodoxy, monk of the desert (but not a so-called "Desert Father") and known much more for the monastery he founded, known as Mar Saba, than anything else. Although Sabas traveled much, solved disputes, was ordained a priest and even had a monastic order and part of the Divine Office named for him, he is still commonly known most for the monastery. And of that I have an epigram, or at least the setting for one.

A brother who followed the life off stillness in the monastery of Mar Saba came to Abba Elias and said to him, "Abba, give me a way of life." The old man said to the brother, "In the days of our predecessors they took great care about these three virtues: poverty, obedience and fasting. But among monks nowadays avarice, self-confidence and great greed have taken charge. Choose for yourself which way you will go."

Amen to that.

The monastery itself, in the Kedron Valley, started out as a cave, a cave Sabas fled to after the complaining monks had forced him first to take orders -- so they could have a priest -- and second to change the "laura" so they wouldn't be so isolated. A laura is a series of cells, each independent and isolated from the others, but built around a church or common area. Sabas finally had had enough -- he hadn't wanted to be a priest anyway (feeling that for himself, at least, it violated a desire for humility) and he certainly didn't want to live in common -- so he took off for the cave.

He dug a well outside, which delightfully yielded sweet water, planted a date palm, which even more delightfully yielded seedless dates, and settled back to pray. A lion came in while Sabas was sleeping and clawed him. Sabas kept his cool, didn't yield his spot and eventually tamed the lion. (True story. Later the lion took off, but it never harmed him again.) He also made friends with the grackles, which he called his "blackbirds," and which still to this day are fed by the monks. The well and the seedless date palms are still there too.

He died in peace on this day in 532, in the 95th year of his age. St. Sabas, pray for us.

Today December 4

Today is the feast of St. Barbara, (date unknown), virgin and martyr. Little is known for sure about this saint, but we have her legend. She was the daughter of a rich man named Dioscorus and though he was a pagan, she was a Christian. He shut her up in a tower, not because of her religion but to protect her virginity (at least until a suitable suitor could be found). Ironically, she was fine with that -- having decided that she wasn't going to marry just anybody (good girl). But she did manage to rile her father by directing the workmen to put in three windows (for the Trinity) and by scratching the eyes out of the idols in the house.

Her father, returning from a journey, was furious when he discovered what she had done. He turned her over to the judge, who said, "Now choose whether ye will spare yourself and offer to the gods, or else die by cruel torments." She gently replied, "I offer myself to my God, Jesu Christ, the which hath created Heaven and earth and all other things . . . "

She was scourged, thrown into prison and sentenced to "death by the sword." She was led up the mountain and her father, whose anger had not abated, grabbed the sword from the executioner and killed her himself. It is said that coming back down, he was struck by lightning and perished. It is from this last episode that Barbara derives her patronage of artillerymen and miners, who both use explosives. Good St. Barbara, pray for us and all the Barbaras in our lives.

Today December 3

Today is the feast of St. Francis Xavier (1506 - 1552), patron of the missions and the most successful unsuccessful missioner there ever was. He did so much while feeling such a failure! And yet he won so many souls to Christ and the Church you would have to admire him. Even Sir Walter Scott, a Protestant, said of him, "The most rigid Protestant, and the most indifferent philosopher, cannot deny to him the courage and patience of a martyr, with the good sense, resolution, ready wit and address of the best negotiator that even went upon a temporal embassy." Wow!

He started out in a castle in Navarre, in the Basque country, a prince and a scholar. Indifferent at first to St. Ignatius of Loyola, he soon became one of his most ardent followers and one of the "band of seven." But he swore himself not to the person of St. Ignatius, attractive as that was, but to the service of God. And serve Him he did.

He set sail for India under the flag of Portugal. He landed in Goa, an area on the western coast, and instructed the Christians there as well as made many new converts. Both tasks were made much, much harder by the atrocious, racist behavior of the Portuguese. St. Francis felt he was fighting a losing battle wherever he went in colonial Asia: as fast as he was baptizing, catechizing and treating the natives (he knew some rudimentary medicine), his own European compatriots were destroying his work with concubinage, violence and slavery! St. Francis even had the nerve to point this out, both to them and to people back home -- in many letters which are still extant.

Not content to Christianize Goa, Francis made the dangerous journey to Manar, an island off India, to give spiritual aid to the natives there, who were Christians in name only. He baptized so many, he could hardly lift his arm at the end of the day. He confirmed those already baptized, catechized all, and stayed as long as he could. He must have been horrified to learn that the king of Ceylon (which ruled Manar) slew 600 Christians there in an effort to wipe out the faith. But the Paravas (such were the natives known) kept their faith, though fewer in numbers.

He next turned to Malaysia and the Moluccas, where he suffered physically a great deal but made many converts. In Malaysia they all fell away, and back in India he was disappointed not to have reached a single Brahmin. Then he was on to Japan, a closed country that he heard about from a Japanese fugitive named Anjiro. He struggled to learn the difficult language. (A pious rumor went around in later years that he had miraculous powers of languages, but it was most definitely not true.) His first efforts to reach the people were scorned, as "evangelical poverty had not the appeal in Japan that it had in India." He realized he had to dress richly, act important, and most of all, bring costly gifts! He received permission from the daimyo (local ruler) to teach, and he quickly made many converts among the common people, about 2000 in all.

They, for their part, told him of an even greater civilization than their own: China. Francis died trying to reach it. He died of fever on the island of Sancian, about 6 miles off the coast. Til the end he was treated with contempt by the maritime authority, Don Alvaro da Gama (son of Vasco da Gama). But God had the last laugh. Though his body was buried in mud in a hot, tropical climate -- and additionally packed with lime to speed decomposition -- St. Francis' body remained perfectly incorrupt, as it does today, in the church of the Good Jesus in Goa. St. Francis Xavier, pray for us.

Today December 2

Today is the feast of Blessed John Ruusbroec, known as "the Admirable", (1293 - 1381). Abbot Cuthbert Butler says, "In my opinion there has probably been no greater contemplative than Ruysbroec, and certainly there has been no greater mystical writer." Wow. John was a simple priest -- first secular, then Augustinian -- who wrote with a poetic depth and luster his books of spiritual union (with God): "Book of the Kingdom of God's Lovers," "Spiritual Espousals," and "Spiritual Tabernacle." He was a very able philosopher and theologian in Brussels, of modest background, whose devout and loving mother became a beguine, sort of a cross between a lay sister and a so-called deaconess. John was rather introverted, seldom talked about himself, was rather humble and self-effacing, and clumsy and unhandy when it came to household repairs. Oh, but his mind was sharp and his heart was big. He was often found in ecstasy. But even such an attractive man had enemies, notable the Brethren of the Free Spirit, a group John exposed for their dualism, pantheism and quietism. He wrote about REAL union, not the false pretense of union, where so-called "bare emptiness" supposedly reveals God. Their psychological quietism would lead them not only to eternal death but also to such "restlessness," "anxiety," and "despair," that they would "die like rabid dogs." Strong words, indeed.

Instead, he describes the turning of the heart and mind to God that leads to full union. First, union with God "through an intermediary" involves prayer, penances, good works and the Sacraments. Second, union with God "without intermediary" follows the "homeward-turning love" where God is experienced without images, but with a clear "essential distinction between the soul's being and God's being." Third, union with God "without difference" involves experiencing God in the "modeless abyss" of the Trinity's "essential Unity" and the essential oneness of all things in God.

Deep stuff, that. And not entirely new. But the WAY he put it, the accent on spousal love (modeling as it does union with God), and the fresh clarity of his writing -- reflected also in his life; it was not just a literary conceit -- was new and deep, at least for its time. Blessed John Ruusbroec, pray for us.

Homily: First Sunday of Advent: 2007

Brothers and sisters, today we begin a class, a school. Isaiah says, "Come, let us [be] instruct[ed] in his ways. . . . For from Zion shall go forth instruction. . . ." Remember the first day of school? The crisp new clothes; the bright new faces; the smell of the books, the glue, the crayons, even the chalk? We were all so full of excitement and humility; the teacher knew everything, and we were ready to learn anything! Well, today is the first day of school -- the school of Jesus. And Christmas is our final, our graduation, our party. Because we will have received the answer -- the surprise -- the prize: Jesus our Lord!

Behold, he comes. Let's get everything ready: the Advent wreath, the candles, the tree, the cards, the gifts, the food, the prayers, the penance, above all, the clean slate. At the risk of sounding like a broken record: go to Confession. Clean up! Take a shower! Sheesh, if it were your body, you wouldn't even need to think twice. But it's only your soul, so it gets a pass. But after your death, it's all you're going to have! (At least initially, until we get our bodies back at the End.)

The class is in Old Testament history (When I was in Catholic junior high, we had to call religion class "Hebrew History" lest we lose even elective credit for it and find it difficult to graduate in time [from the public high school -- our town had no Catholic high school]), in finding and maintaining peace, in cleaning the house of our soul, in the beauty of silence, in the proper maintenance of anticipation, in recognizing the Messiah, and most of all, in love. What makes one person love another? Why, ultimately it is WHO that person IS . . . and if it is anything less, it is something less than love. It is usefulness, or convenience, or lust, or affection, or something other than love. Love's ultimate test is in trial, and life's ultimate test is death. Would you DIE for that person? If the question is asked of Jesus, we already KNOW the answer. But do WE love HIM? Let us pray, in a paraphrase of the great prayer "Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief", "Lord, I love. Help my lack of love."

Today December 1

Today is the feast of one of my favorite saints, St. Edmund Campion (1540 - 1581). Living in the Elizabethan Age, he was on the cusp of modern times and thus there are a whole lot of words and records concerning him. We feel we know him, rather than seeing him entirely two-dimensionally, as we must many of the early saints and martyrs.

From his very beginning I like him: son of a bookseller, also named Edmund Campion, in London. Now, selling books is a noble profession and often shows a serious love of the written word. They (he and his wife) were converts of convenience to Anglicanism, and their boy Edmund was raised Protestant. He was a bright boy, a star student, and a great writer and speaker. He was enrolled at the University of Oxford and gave a stellar speech welcoming Queen Elizabeth when she visited there in 1566. He was soon a favorite of William Cecil and the Earl of Leicester. He wrote a book called "History of Ireland" and dedicated it to the Earl. He was called "the diamond of England." Wow. Nice.

He became a deacon in the Anglican Church but his faith started to shake when he read the early Church Fathers. That is a common occurrence among our thoughtful Protestant brothers. He was even suspected of being a Catholic (he wasn't), so he fled to Dublin where the situation was more tolerant. While there, he wrote these impassioned (and inflammatory) lines: "The Irish people are thus inclined: religious, frank, amorous, ireful, sufferable of pains infinite, very glorious, many sorcerers, excellent horsemen, delighted with wars, great alms-givers, passing in hospitality: the lewder sort both clerks and laymen are sensual and loose to lechery above measure. The same being virtuously bred up or reformed are such mirrors of holiness and austerity, that other nations retain but a shadow of devotion in comparison to them." It didn't go over well in Ireland.

He was received into the Church in Ireland and became a faithful -- and unapologetic -- Catholic. He returned to England in disguise and was almost caught (since he had no passport), until he agreed to give up all his money and his luggage. He escaped to Douay, France, where he studied, and in Rome took orders in the Society of Jesus. He was assigned to the University of Prague to teach, but he was recalled to England on what can be called a suicide mission, since to be a priest in England -- and even to shield or shelter one -- was punishable by death.

But St. Edmund had remarkable luck -- and grace. He arrived in the disguise of a jeweler and though his presence was soon discovered in London, he was able to escape to the countryside, where he was constantly moving, changing his clothes and identities. He made many converts and was even able to publish 400 copies of his "Decem Rationes" -- "Ten Reasons" why he challenged educated Protestants to debate with him. Although the other document known as "Campion's Brag" was supposed to be withheld from publication -- at least until after his capture or death -- it was released prematurely and caused such a controversial sensation, it turned the attention of the whole country upon him.

Three weeks later he was saying Mass secretly in the house of a Mrs. Yate in Lyford with a traitor in their midst. Edmund was betrayed to the authorities and the house was searched three times. Finally Edmund and two other priests were found in a false wall in a secret room. They were hauled off to the Tower of London and Edmund was cruelly tortured. He was put in a cell so narrow and short he was not able to stand completely up nor lie completely down. After several hours it causes excruciating pain. He was racked several times and so fiercely that he was unable to use his arms. In court he was attacked by hoards of Protestant scholars with lots of books and plenty of notes in front of them and yet he, with nothing, was able to hold his own. He insisted -- and even had declared on oath when he first entered the country -- that he was not in England for political reasons of any kind. He was being condemned for his religion alone. He even managed to say: "In condemning us you condemn all your own ancestors. . . To be condemned with these old lights -- not of England only, but of the world -- by their degenerate descendants is both gladness and glory to us." Wow. He was drawn and quartered on December 1,1581, a wet and muddy day. He had the graciousness to die wishing "a long reign with all prosperity to your queen and my queen." Some of his blood fell upon a young man named Henry Walpole, who himself became a Jesuit and a martyr. What witness! What class! St. Edmund Campion, pray for us.

Today November 30

Today, the last day in November, we have the lovely feast of St. Andrew, first century. There are many stories and legends about this guy. I especially liked the story of his curing St. Matthew of blindness -- not because St. Matthew's prayers for himself were too weak, but because God wanted to use St. Andrew to demonstrate a grace. Or, as Pascal says, "God instituted prayer to show us the beauty of causality." (I love that.)

I do also recall that this first apostle, a fisherman and a disciple of St. John the Baptist, enabled a young man who followed him (I also heard it as a man who wanted to join the Church) and whose house was set afire by his angry parents, to put out the fire with only a single glass of water. (Thus his invocation against fire.) The arsonists were caught 5 days later. And I remember a story of Andrew's conversion of the pregnant wife of a murderer who subsequently could not give birth because she'd called on the goddess Diana (to hedge her bets, apparently). But that when she publicly renounced the false gods and acclaimed the One God (in whom she already believed), she was delivered of a healthy child.

But those are just legends. (Doesn't mean they're not true; just that we have only loose testimony for them.) We know Andrew was out fishing on a lake with his brother Simon when Jesus called them to become "fishers of men" and they left everything and followed him. (Of course, that leaves out the story of the miracle of the huge catch of fish upon Jesus' direction and Simon's passionate words: "Leave me, Lord, I am a sinful man." That single line of his expresses so much faith and passion and humility, I think Simon Peter would be allowed into heaven merely for that! It expresses how I feel -- how anyone would feel -- in the presence of the living God.) And Andrew and Simon Peter had a house in Capharnaum, a house they opened up to the Master, when he taught there. Which gives me a chance to correct something a homeowning priest said in a homily one time. He said Jesus owned a home -- he wasn't as poor as everyone said he was -- and the house in Capharnaum proves it. But it was Peter's house! And Jesus had the USE of it, not the ownership. There. Glad that's clear.

Andrew saw the miracle at Cana, he attended upon Jesus and after the resurrection preached in Scythia. He was martyred on an X-shaped cross (also called a saltire cross) in the town of Patrae in Achaia. His relics were taken to Constantinople and some from there to Scotland, to a monastery once called Abernethy and now called St. Andrew's. He is the patron of Scotland and of Russia, and of course all of those named Andrew. Saint Andrew, pray for us.

Today November 29

Today is the feast of St. Saturninus, companion of Saints Perpetua and Felicity (feast day: March 7), who died about 203. He was arrested with Perpetua and with Felicity and Revocatus, who were brother and sister slaves, and with Secundulus and put under house arrest. When they would not renounce their newfound Christian faith, they were thrown into prison and were to be persuaded in other ways. Perpetua's father, for instance, came and exclaimed, "Daughter, what have you done? You have brought dishonor on your family! No one of your lineage has ever been in jail." When she announced that she was only in jail for being a Christian, he flew into a helpless rage. When that didn't work, he brought her mother and her infant daughter Vivia to her, saying, "My sweetest daughter, have pity on me and on your sad mother and on your husband, who will not be able to live without you." But she -- and the others --remained constant in their faith.

A judge had Felicity separated from the men and questioned her: "Do you have a husband?" "Yes," she replied, "but he does not force my conscience." The judge: "Have pity on yourself, then, and live, especially since you have a child in your womb." Felicity: "Do to me whatever you wish, but you will never get me to do your will!"

And so he did. He had them all scourged, and then paraded half-naked through the streets and then thrown to the wild beasts. Saturninus he had beheaded. St. Saturninus, pray for us.