St. Stephen, King of Hungary

King Stephen is a great national hero and the spiritual patron of Hungary – but he was, first of all, a devout Christian. We think of kings as being heads of state, great military leaders, commanders of armies and rulers over people, and he was all that, but Stephen did all those things in the light of his Christian faith, and made his decisions in accordance with the teaching of the Church.

During his early childhood he was pagan, but he was baptized around the age of 10, together with his father, who was the chief of the Magyar people. This was a group who migrated to the Danube area a little over a hundred years before. When young Stephen was 20 years old, he married Gisela, who was from a powerful and influential family. After the death of his father, Stephen became the leader of his people, and did all he could to turn his people into a Christian people. He put down a series of revolts by pagan nobles and through the banishment of paganism, and the establishment of the Church, Stephen made the Magyars into a strong national group. He asked the pope to send more clergy so that the Church could become more organized throughout Hungary, and he also made the request that the pope confer the title of king upon him – not because he wanted the honor for himself, but because he knew his people needed the dignity of being ruled by a Christian king, rather than just a leader with no title. He was crowned on Christmas day in 1001.

Stephen established a system of support for the local churches and priests, and he worked very hard to bring people out of poverty. Out of every 10 towns, one had to build a church and support a priest. He abolished pagan customs, and urged all his subjects to marry, except clergy and religious, because he knew that strong families make a strong society. He was easily accessible to all, especially the poor.

He had hoped that his son Emeric would succeed him as king, but in 1031 Emeric died, and the rest of King Stephen’s days were made very difficult by controversy over who should succeed him as king. His pagan nephews even attempted to kill him. King St. Stephen died in 1038. As he was dying, with his right hand he raised up the Holy Crown of Hungary, and prayed to the Blessed Virgin Mary, asking her to take the Hungarian people as her subjects and to become their queen. After his death, people made pilgrimages to his tomb, where many miracles were recorded, and soon he was canonized – the first king to be venerated as a confessor and saint of the Church.

Grant thy Church, we pray, Almighty God: that she may have Saint Stephen of Hungary, who fostered her growth while a king on earth, as her glorious defender in heaven; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

The Crown of St. Stephen.

On this anniversary day...

The Solemnity of the Assumption has always been an especially important one for the people of Our Lady of the Atonement parish, because with the celebration of the triumphant mystery of the Assumption it is the celebration of the anniversary of the founding of the parish. And although I am retired as pastor of the parish, it’s a special day for me, too, as I celebrate anniversary of my ordination as a Catholic priest on the same day as the parish came into existence.

Thirty-eight years ago a very small group of us were at San Fernando Cathedral in the early evening. The Cathedral was packed with people who had come for the occasion, but for the tiny handful of us, it was a home-coming – the culmination of a very long and very difficult journey to the thresh-hold of the Catholic Church. Hands were laid upon me by the archbishop and the other priests of the archdiocese, and I became a priest in the one Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church. A handful of adults made their Profession of Faith, and so were received into the full communion of the Church. And as the archbishop said at the time, “We have a priest. We have some laity. Let’s have a parish!” And he declared it to be so. The formal decree was read out, establishing a parish dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary, under the title of Our Lady of the Atonement, with the boundaries being co-terminus with those of the archdiocese, and I was appointed to be the Founding Pastor.

It sounds grand now, but then it was a bit daunting. We had no church building; we had only a handful of people; what we were doing hadn’t been done by anybody before, as we were given the mission of establishing an Anglican Use – a specific identity – within the Catholic Church. Would it work? No one knew. In fact, very few really understood what it was all about. But Pope John Paul II had the idea that this was something worth doing – bringing in our small community of former Anglicans, and bringing in our particular liturgical and devotional life, and giving it a home in the Catholic Church. And there were others in Rome who saw the possibilities – people such as a Cardinal named Joseph Ratzinger, then the Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, and subsequently the successor of St. Peter, Pope Benedict XVI. So, armed with the support of men like that, and strengthened by the grace of God, we set about the task of establishing the Anglican Use in the Catholic Church.

And see where it’s led – Ordinariates have been established which allow Anglicans to return to the Catholic Church, bringing with them a liturgy, a spirituality, and a common identity which will serve to enrich the whole Church. And the little parish dedicated to Our Lady of the Atonement served as the experiment – the model – for one of the most historic developments in the Catholic Church in more than five hundred years.

Why did all of this happen? Because Christ wants it. He desires that His Church should be one. “May they be one, Father, as we are one,” He prayed on the night before He died. So, this is part of the fulfillment of the Will of God.

How did this happen? By the grace of God, and through prayers of the Blessed Virgin Mary, who is the Mother of the Church. Like any good mother, Mary wants all her children to be unified, to be “at one” with one another. It’s no accident that our parish was established on the Solemnity of the Assumption. In fact, it wasn’t supposed to be on that day. Permission for my ordination and for the establishment of the parish had come from Rome in July, on the eve of the Feast of Our Lady of the Atonement. The archbishop asked me to come to his office so we could discuss some possible dates for all this to take place, and he asked me if I had any particular date in mind. I told him that I’d like it to be a date associated with the Blessed Virgin Mary, and that my first choice would be August 15th, the Solemnity of the Assumption. As he began to leaf through his calendar, he was telling me that it wouldn’t be possible to have it then, because he was always fully committed to other events in the archdiocese on an important Solemnity like that. As he was turning the pages, he stopped mid-sentence, and looked up at me with a puzzled look on his face. As he looked down again, he said to me, “I don’t understand this. There’s nothing written here at all! I’m completely free on the 15th. You have the date.”

By the Divine Will of God, the golden thread of the Blessed Virgin Mary has been woven throughout this whole thing. She, who was chosen from the beginning to be the New Eve, the one who would be instrumental in crushing the head of the serpent; she, who was foretold by the prophet as the Virgin who would conceive and bear a son; she, who was immaculately conceived in the womb of her mother St. Anne; she, who was visited by the Archangel Gabriel and given the knowledge that the Child would bring salvation to the world; she, who stood silently by the Cross, her heart pierced with sorrow; she, who when she breathed her last was taken body and soul into heaven where she now reigns as queen – it is she whose prayers have supported this wonderful experiment.

There should be no safer place for a child than when he’s in the arms of his mother. And what a beautiful image it is, when a mother lifts her child up, when she wants him to see something important over the heads of a crowd. Mary our Mother lifts us up, so that we can see something – or rather, Someone – who is most important; namely, Christ her Son. Mary our Mother lifts us up. She lifts us up, and she lifts our cares and our concerns, and our whole being, all up to her Divine Son. She lifts us up in her Immaculate Heart so that we can catch a glimpse of the glory that will be ours in heaven.

The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary

The Solemnity of the Assumption commemorates the fact that the Blessed Virgin Mary, immaculately conceived and completely sinless throughout her earthly life, was taken by her Son into heaven, body and soul, to be with the Triune God, and where she is crowned as Queen of heaven and earth.

After Christ’s resurrection from the dead, He spent forty days with His apostles taking them more deeply into the revelation of God’s truth, after which He ascended into heaven. Christ took with Him something especially precious which He had received from the Blessed Virgin Mary; namely, our human nature. In doing so, Christ tells us that where He has gone, we are meant to follow.

What we celebrate on the Assumption is the fact that Christ’s Mother, the Blessed Virgin Mary, did indeed follow Him into heaven. Her Assumption is rather like an echo of the Lord’s Ascension. A pattern is set; a truth is revealed: mankind is meant to dwell body and soul with God forever in heaven. This is God’s plan; this is His intention from the time He created us. In fact, St. Paul teaches us that our true “citizenship” is in heaven.

When our Lord ascended into heaven He took our human nature with Him. As Mary is assumed into Heaven, she also takes something with her. What she takes with her is all of us – not in the same way that the Lord brought our human nature with Him into heaven at His Ascension, nor in the same way that God will raise us up at the last day. But she does take us – she takes us with her in her Immaculate Heart. The Mother of God, who is our Mother also, knows each and every one of us as only a mother can – and as she takes her place in heaven, so she lovingly brings us to Her Son.

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Pictured: "The Assumption of the Virgin"

by Ambrogio Bergognone (1453-1523)

St. Maximilian Kolbe, Martyr of Charity

On August 14th we commemorate a remarkable and brave priest who gave his life for his faith in that terrible and dark place, Auschwitz. St. Maximilian Kolbe was born in Poland in 1894, and when he was sixteen he entered the Franciscan Order. He was sent to study in Rome where he was ordained a priest in 1918. 

Maximilian returned to Poland in 1919 and began spreading the Gospel and devotion to the Blessed Virgin, whom he called the “Immaculata.” He founded a religious community of Franciscans to do this work, and by 1939 it had expanded from just eighteen friars, to 650 all living in one place, making it the largest Catholic religious house in the world. 

To spread the Gospel and devotion to the Immaculata, St. Maximilian used the most modern printing equipment, and he not only published catechetical and devotional tracts, but also a daily newspaper with a circulation of almost a quarter of a million, and a monthly magazine with a circulation of over one million. He started a radio station and planned to build a Catholic movie studio--he was a true "apostle of the mass media." 

In 1939 Nazis invaded his homeland of Poland, and his religious house was severely bombed. He and his friars were arrested, although they were released in less than three months, on the feast of the Immaculate Conception. But in 1941 he was arrested again. The Nazis wanted to get rid of anyone who could be considered a leader, and St. Maximilian was taken to the internment camp in Auschwitz. He was there for three months before he was killed, after undergoing terrible beatings and humiliations. 

The circumstances of his martyrdom were these: a prisoner had escaped. The commandant announced that ten men would die. He was an especially cruel man, and as he walked through the ranks of the prisoners he would say “This one. That one,” as he pointed. As they were being marched away to the starvation bunkers, St. Maximilian, who was only known as Number 16670, stepped from the line. Maximilian pointed to one of the prisoners who had been chosen to die. “I would like to take that man’s place. He has a wife and children.” “Who are you?” “A priest.” He gave no name, even though he was one of the best-known priests in all of Poland. There was silence for a moment, and then the commandant, wanting to show his power of life and death over the prisoners, removed the condemned man out of line and ordered St. Maximilian to go with the other nine. They were taken to the “block of death.” They were ordered to strip naked and they were locked in a building where their slow starvation began in complete darkness. But there was no screaming — instead, the prisoners sang hymns together. By the eve of the Assumption, only four were left alive. The jailer came to finish them off, and St. Maximilian was in a corner praying. He lifted his fleshless arm for the needle, which was filled with carbolic acid. They burned his body with all the others. He was beatified in 1971 and in 1982 Pope St. John Paul II canonized Maximilian as a "martyr of charity," because, out of his love for Christ, he had laid down his life for another. 

Most gracious God, who didst fill thy Priest and Martyr Maximilian Kolbe with zeal for thine house and love of his neighbour: vouchsafe that, holpen by the prayers of this devoted servant of the immaculate Mother of God; we too may strive to serve others for thy glory, and become like unto thy dear Son, who loved his own even unto the end; who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

Ss. Pontian and Hippolytus, Martyrs

St. Pontian was a Roman who served as pope from 230 to 235. He was a faithful and holy man, and upheld the Catholic faith even when there were those around him who were trying to change it. But he happened to live at a time when the Roman emperor was persecuting the Church horribly, and killing as many Christians as he could find. Pontian was treated in a very cruel way: he was banished to the island of Sardinia, where they mined silver and lead, and where prisoners were forced to work in horrible conditions. Pontian was not only exhausted from the work, but he was constantly beaten by his jailers, and his life was one long torture.

While Pontian was enduring all that, he met another Christian who had been exiled to Sardinia – Hippolytus – who had been a Catholic priest in Rome. Actually, this wasn’t the first time they had met; in fact, Hippolytus was a fierce rival to Pontian. Hippolytus thought that Pontian the pope was too easy on those who had been trying to water down the faith. He spoke out against Pontian whenever he could, and in fact, Hippolytus gathered around him a group of followers who said that Pontian wasn’t really suitable to be the pope, so they proclaimed Hippolytus to be the pope. Hippolytus led many Christians into schism, claiming that only the really good people could be members of the Church. He taught that Christians should be completely separate from the world, and should have nothing to do with anyone who might sin – naturally, Hippolytus and his followers never thought that they were sinners. This, of course was a heresy.

The emperor didn’t care what differences these two men might have – as far as he was concerned, they were both part of the Church, and since Hippolytus seemed to be a trouble-maker, he was sent off to Sardinia to work in the mines. As Pontian and Hippolytus were brought together as two prisoners, Hippolytus came to realize how wrong he had been about Pontian. He confessed his errors to Pontian, and the two became friends and companions in their suffering. Both of them were worked to exhaustion, and beaten unmercifully, until both of them died – rivals and enemies when they were free, but friends and fellow Catholics when they were facing death. Both of them are numbered with the martyrs of the Church – Catholic who refused to deny Christ, and whose death gave witness to the power of God.

Grant, we beseech thee, Almighty God: that we, who on this day devoutly observe the festival of thy holy Martyrs, blessed Pontian and Hippolytus, may thereby increase in godliness to the attainment of everlasting salvation; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

St. Jane Frances de Chantal

St. Jane Frances de Chantal was born in 1572 and came from a noble family. Her father gave her in marriage to the Baron von Chantal in 1592. She was a loving wife and mother, and she brought up her children as faithful Catholics, teaching them the importance of obeying God's laws, and always showing kindness to others. She was extremely generous to the poor, and she made a personal vow that she would never turn away anybody who was in need.

Her family was a very happy one, and she deeply loved her husband, Baron de Chantal, and their children. But then, an unexpected tragedy came to them. One day in 1601 her husband was out hunting. A terrible thing happened – one of the men with whom he was hunting accidentally shot him, and he died. When she was told what happened, she was grief-stricken – but instead of reacting with anger towards the man who had killed her husband, St. Jane forgave him. In fact, she even agreed to be the godmother to one of his children. This heroic act of forgiveness shows her deep faith in Christ.

Now that she was a widow, and as her children were growing up, St. Jane felt more and more that she wanted to spend her time in prayer, giving adoration to God and praying for the needs of others. She had a very holy priest as her spiritual director, St. Francis de Sales, and as St. Jane talked with him about her desire to give her life over to prayer, he encouraged her to form a community for herself and others like her. She founded the Community of the Visitation Nuns – reflecting the time when the Blessed Virgin Mary withdrew from her life in Nazareth, and went to visit her cousin St. Elizabeth, the mother of St. John the Baptist. There was a holy friendship between her and her spiritual guide, Francis de Sales; with his approval she left her father and children and founded the Visitation nuns. She spent the rest of her life showing her love for God and for others by living a life of prayer until she died, in 1641 when she was nearly seventy years old.

St. Jane gave herself completely to God – first through the sacrament of marriage, then as a loving mother to her children, and finally in religious life.

O God, who madest Saint Jane Frances de Chantal radiant with outstanding merits in divers paths of life in the way of perfection: grant us, through her intercession; that, walking faithfully in our vocation, we may ever be examples of thy shining light; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

St. Clare of Assisi

St. Clare was born in 1194 to a well-to-do family in Assisi. As with all girls at that time, she was expected to marry at a young age, and spend her life being a wife and mother. However, Clare refused to marry, even though her family had chosen a suitable young man for her. Instead, she began listening to another young man, Francis, who had given his life over to God, and was living a life based on the Gospel, and in complete poverty. St. Francis and St. Clare became life-long friends, and he served as her spiritual guide.

When she was 18, Clare left her father’s house one night in secret, and she was met on the road by some of the religious brothers of St. Francis. Together they went to the poor little chapel called the Portiuncula – the “Little Portion” – where Clare was clothed in a rough woolen habit, and she exchanged her jeweled belt for a common rope with knots in it. Her beautiful long hair was cut and a veil was placed over her head. St. Francis placed her temporarily in a Benedictine convent, where her father and her brothers came – very angry – and they tried to drag her back home. She clung to the altar of the church, and she threw aside her veil to show her cropped hair and remained absolutely adamant that she was giving her life over to God.

Sixteen days later her sister Agnes joined her. Others came. They lived a simple life of great poverty, and in complete seclusion from the world, according to a Rule which Francis gave them as a Second Order (Poor Clares). Francis obliged her under obedience at age 21 to accept the office of abbess, and she remained abbess until her death in 1253, when she was nearly 60 years old.

The nuns went barefoot, they slept on the ground, they ate no meat and they observed almost complete silence. They possessed no property, even in common, subsisting on daily contributions. When even the pope tried to persuade her to mitigate this practice, she showed her characteristic firmness: "I need to be absolved from my sins, but I do not wish to be absolved from my obligation of following Jesus Christ."

Clare and her community of nuns lived in the convent of San Damiano in Assisi, which is still there today. She served the sick, waited on table, and washed the feet of the nuns who went out to beg. She came from prayer, it was said, with her face so shining it dazzled those about her. She suffered serious illness for the last 27 years of her life. Her influence was such that popes, cardinals and bishops often came to consult her—but she never left the walls of San Damiano.

A well-known story concerns her prayer and trust. She had the Blessed Sacrament placed on the walls of the convent when it faced attack by invading Saracens, who were Muslims. She prayed for Christ to protect them, and she told her sisters not to be afraid. In the face of Jesus Christ in the Blessed Sacrament, the invaders ran away, and the sisters were safe.

In 1958 Pope Pius XII designated St. Clare as the patron saint of television. One Christmas Eve, when she was too sick to get up from her bed to get to Mass, she was very disappointed. She prayed that God would allow her to take part in the Mass. Although she was more than a mile away she saw Mass on the wall of her dormitory. So clear was the vision that the next day she could name the friars at the celebration.

Graciously hear us, O God of our salvation: that we who rejoice in the festival of blessed Clare, thy Virgin, may grow in the knowledge and love of true devotion; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

Basilica of St. Clare in Assisi.

St. Lawrence, Deacon and Martyr

Saint Lawrence was one of seven deacons in Rome in charge of giving help to the poor and the needy. In fact, during the first centuries of the Church, the number of deacons for any bishop was limited to seven, following the precedent of Jerusalem. It was said of Lawrence that he was to Rome, what Stephen was to Jerusalem.

When a persecution broke out, Pope St. Sixtus was condemned to death. As he was led to execution, Lawrence followed him weeping, "Father, where are you going without your deacon?" he said. "I am not leaving you, my son," answered the Pope. "in three days you will follow me." Full of joy, Lawrence gave to the poor the rest of the money he had on hand and even sold expensive vessels to have more to give away.

The Prefect of Rome, a greedy pagan, thought the Church had a great fortune hidden away. So he ordered Lawrence to bring the Church's treasure to him. The Saint said he would, in three days. Then he went through the city and gathered together all the poor and sick people supported by the Church. When he showed them to the Prefect, he said: "This is the Church's treasure!"

In great anger, the Prefect condemned Lawrence to a slow, cruel death. The Saint was tied on top of an iron grill over a slow fire that roasted his flesh little by little, but Lawrence was burning with so much love of God that he almost did not feel the flames. In fact, God gave him so much strength and joy that he even joked. "Turn me over," he said to the judge. "I'm done on this side!" And just before he died, he said, "It's cooked enough now." Then he prayed that the city of Rome might be converted to Jesus and that the Catholic Faith might spread all over the world. After that, he went to receive the martyr's reward. Saint Lawrence's feast day is August 10th.

Almighty God, who didst endue blessed Lawrence with power to overcome the fires of his torments: give us grace, we beseech thee, to quench the flames of our sins; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

The Holy Deacon Lawrence before the Emperor Valerius.

The grill on which St. Lawrence was martyred.

The stone on which the body of St. Lawrence was laid after his martyrdom.

St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross

The story of St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, born in the world as Edith Stein, is the story of one of the most brilliant converts to enter the Church. Her subsequent martyrdom came about because of the evil of the Holocaust.

Edith Stein was born in Breslau, Germany on October 12, 1891. She was the youngest of eleven children, and was raised in the Jewish faith. In 1913 she began her university studies, and as too often happens, she rebelled against the faith of her childhood, and gave up on religion.  While at the university she became a student of the phenomenologist Edmund Husserl, and later immersed herself in the philosophy of Max Scheler, a Jewish philosopher who became a Catholic in 1920. It was what seemed to be a chance reading of the autobiography of Saint Teresa of Avila which opened her heart to the God of love whom she had denied as a young girl. She responded to this action of the Holy Spirit by entering the Church in 1922.

For eight years after her conversion, Edith lived with the Dominicans while teaching at Saint Magdalene’s, which was a training institute for teachers, but during the time immediately following her baptism, she felt the call to religious life as a Carmelite. She set it aside for as long as she could, mostly out of respect for her mother, who was devastated by Edith’s baptism. Even after Edith’s baptism she had, in fact, continued to attend the synagogue with her mother. But by 1933 she could postpone it no longer, and she entered the Carmel of Cologne in Germany. It was at that time that she found an overwhelming attraction to the person and the writings of St. Thérèse of Lisieux. In the Little Flower she saw a life which had been utterly transformed by the love of God, and it was her deepest desire to incorporate as much as possible into her own life, this simple but profound spirituality.

When she made her first vows, she was known as Sister Teresa Benedicta of the Cross. She was encouraged to continue her writing, in which she expanded on the theme of Christ’s sacrifice on the Cross as being one and the same as the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. She was able to harmonize this with the importance of sacrifice in ancient Judaism, exploring more deeply the fact that Christ’s sacrifice was the culmination of all Old Testament sacrifices which had come before.

As the Nazis came to power, Edith and her sister Rosa, who had also converted to Catholicism, were transferred by their Carmelite superiors to a Carmel in Holland in 1938. This was done to preserve their safety, but when the Dutch bishops issued a letter condemning the racist policies of Nazism, the Nazis retaliated by seeking out and arresting all Jewish converts. It was on August 2, 1942, that Edith and her sister were taken from the convent by two S.S. officers, and were cast into the gas chambers of Auschwitz. On October 11, 1998, exactly fifty-six years, two months, and two days after her death at Auschwitz, Sister Teresa Benedicta of the Cross was canonized by Pope St. John Paul II, declaring her to be a saint.

O God of our fathers, who didst lead the blessed Martyr Saint Teresa Benedicta of the Cross to know thy crucified Son and imitate him even unto death: mercifully grant that, by her intercession, all men may know Christ as Saviour, and through him come to thine eternal vision; through the same Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

Under A Broom Tree With Elijah

Elijah went a day’s journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a broom tree; and he asked that he might die, saying, “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life; for I am no better than my fathers.” And he lay down and slept under a broom tree; and behold, an angel touched him, and said to him, “Arise and eat.” And he looked and behold, there was at his head a cake baked on hot stones and a jar of water. And he ate and drank, and lay down again. And the angel of the Lord came again a second time, and touched him, and said, “Arise and eat, else the journey will be too great for you.” And he arose, and ate and drank, and went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb the mount of God.

I Kings 19:4-8

We had a glimpse of the great prophet Elijah in our recent celebration of the Transfiguration, as he appeared with Moses in glory at the summit of Mt. Tabor. In this passage from the First Book of Kings we hear about him in a much humbler setting.

Here he is at a very low point in his life. Elijah just wants it all to be over, so he lays down, trying to escape through sleep, but he hears a voice: "Get up and eat." It was the voice that woke him up as he was dozing under a broom tree – a type of juniper – out in the wilderness. Elijah was, at this point, having what might be described as a career crisis. Things weren’t going as he thought they would. He’d just come back from an amazing victory at Mt. Carmel, where fire had come down from heaven and 450 prophets of Baal had been wiped out. What a great day it was for the God of Israel… and what a great day it was for Elijah, the prophet of Israel.

So, flushed with victory, Elijah had returned to the city of Jezreel fully expecting to put an end to another enemy of God, the wicked Queen Jezebel, who was the murderous wife of King Ahab. Getting rid of her would mean that finally there would be an end to the worship of the false god Baal. Finally there would be a revival of the true worship of Jehovah. So Elijah strode into the city, fully expecting God to take care of everything, and put an end to the rampant idolatry.

But what greeted Elijah instead, as he entered the city, was the bony finger of Jezebel pointing directly at him, with her shrieking at him, "I swear to the gods that I'm going to do what you did to my prophets." Jezebel meant business. But this wasn't what Elijah expected. Suddenly things weren't so clear. Elijah's mission had lost its focus, because it seemed as though God seemed had lost interest in giving his prophet further victories. So Elijah fled to Beersheba, and leaving his servant behind, he went a day's journey into the wilderness alone. He was depressed and disillusioned, so Elijah looked for God where God had always seemed to reveal things so clearly for His people: that is, in the wilderness. It was in the wilderness that had God led Israel. It was in the wilderness that He had shaped them. He taught them in the wilderness, and it was in the wilderness that He fed them.

At this point, Elijah felt like a failure. His ministry had come to a halt, stopped dead in its tracks by Queen Jezebel. So he found a cool place to sit under a broom tree. He prayed. He asked God to let him die. "It's enough,” he said. “I can't take it anymore. I've worked and endured enough. Take my life, Lord. I'm no better than my fathers." Elijah felt that his useful days were done. He wanted to die under that tree in the wilderness. And so, exhausted, he fell asleep.

Why is it that this picture of Elijah seems so human to us, so familiar? Probably because most of us, to some extent or another, have been under that broom tree in the wilderness. Most everyone has, at some time or another, felt useless, washed up, ineffective – wanting to do God’s Will, and yet seeming to fail at it. Elijah has been there before us, trying so hard to defend God and to build up God's kingdom, but seeming to be unsuccessful.

Elijah was convinced that it all rested on him – but was too much for him. And it's too much for us. Our shoulders aren't big enough to hold up our own salvation -- much less the kingdom of God.

Certainly, Elijah was a great prophet, but he had fallen into a very human trap: he had begun to think that it all hinged on him, that he was somehow the most important part of the equation.

When we try to live as if everything hangs on us, as if we were the only tools in God's toolbox, as if God is helpless without us, we wind up under a broom tree in the wilderness – confused, lost, weary, broken. As it turns out, the problem with Elijah wasn't Jezebel. God could handle Jezebel, and He would in His own time. No, the problem with Elijah was Elijah, just as very often the problem with us is ourselves. We don't trust God to do His work. We don't trust God's timing and God’s ways. We drive ourselves to despair because we think that God has somehow abandoned us.

But God is merciful. He wouldn't let Elijah die in the wilderness. He sent an angel to touch him and wake him up. "Get up and eat." Next to his head he sees fresh baked bread and water. So Elijah sat up. He ate and drank. And then he laid down again to go back to sleep.

The angel came and touched him a second time. "Get up and eat, for the journey is too much for you." Elijah got up a second time. He ate and drank the food God gave him to eat and drink. And on the strength of that food he was able to journey forty days and forty nights until he came to Horeb, Mt. Sinai, the mountain of God. Just as Israel wandered forty years in the Sinai wilderness, so Elijah wandered forty days back to Sinai. It was a longer journey than Elijah had planned, and a more difficult one. But it was God's way of showing Elijah that He was still the God of Israel. And the miraculous bread and water from God strengthened Elijah, and sustained him on his journey through the wilderness.

Perhaps the most important sentence in that lesson from First Kings is this: "The journey is too much for you." God said that to Elijah, and He says it to each of us also. It really is too much for us to journey through this life, this wilderness of ours, without God's food and drink. It is too much for us, to daily battle sin, death, and the devil, unless we eat and drink from the table God prepares. It is too much for us, to journey from Baptism to eternal life with God, and try to do it on a starvation diet.

But we try. Some people try to get through the day without spending any real time with God. Some try to get through the week without reading the Word of God and without worshipping Him. Some are so foolish as to think they have no need for repentance and absolution, and they try to go without so much as a morsel of the Bread of Life come down from heaven.

Jesus said, "Come to me, all who are weary, and I will give you rest." He really is our Refreshment. "He who believes in me," Jesus said, "will never hunger, never thirst." He really is our Living Water. He really is our Living Bread – it is bread which is baked over the burning fire of God's love. God provides the food and drink that will carry us all the way through to eternal life. Jesus Christ is Food to strengthen us for our journey. He is Drink to refresh and sustain us on our way to eternal life. "If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever." 

_____________________________

 Pictured: "An Angel Awakens the Prophet Elijah" 

by Juan Antonio de Frías y Escalante (1633-1669)

St. Sixtus II and His Deacons

The Emperor Valerian (253-60) had a hatred for the Church, and he didn’t hesitate to vent his rage. He mandated that all Christians had to take part in state religious ceremonies, and not only that, he forbade them to assemble for any worship whatsoever in the catacombs. Although the catacombs were constructed as places for the burial of the dead, because even the pagans had respect for burial places, they did become locations where Christians could assemble in relative safety during times of persecution.

So it was that during the reign of Valerian, he issued a decree ordering the execution of all bishops, priests and deacons. The Bishop of Rome at this time was Sixtus II, who had been elected to succeed Stephen I. For nearly a year after the emperor’s decree, Sixtus managed to evade the Roman authorities. Pope Sixtus found that it was a bit safer to gather with his clergy and people in the small private cemetery of Praetextatus. Although it was near the better-known and larger cemetery of Calixtus, the authorities tended not to watch it as closely; however, that could last only for so long.

Early in August of 258, while Sixtus was teaching from his episcopal chair, surrounded by four of his seven deacons and with a congregation of the faithful gathered to hear him, Roman soldiers burst in, arresting Sixtus and the deacons who were there. They dragged him off to force him to offer incense to the pagan gods, which of course he would not do. He was then returned to the place where he had been arrested, thrust brutally onto his chair, and was beheaded on the spot. The four deacons who were with him, Januarius, Vincentius, Magnus, and Stephanus, also were martyred, and very soon afterwards (probably that same day) two other deacons, Felicissimus and Agapitus, were put to death – leaving only the chief deacon, Lawrence, whom the Romans spared temporarily in the hope of having him turn over anything in the Church’s treasury.

When we get to the story of St. Lawrence in a few days, we’ll see how that worked out for the Romans!

Almighty and Everlasting God, who didst enkindle the flame of thy love in the heart of thy holy martyrs Pope St. Sixtus and his Holy Deacons: Grant to us, thy humble servants, a like faith and power of love, that we who rejoice in their triumph may profit by their example; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

_______________________________________

Fresco by Fra Angelico, "St. Sixtus Ordains St. Lawrence" 1447-49 

The Transfiguration of Our Lord

It was an astonishing sight for Peter, James, and John, when they saw the Lord Jesus Christ radiating His divine glory, talking with Moses and Elijah. He manifested His glory, the glory that was His as the only begotten Son of the Father - God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God. 

His face shone like the sun. His clothing became blinding and brilliant, whiter than any bleach on earth could bleach them. His divine nature shone through His humanity, making it clear that our Lord Jesus Christ is at once true God and true man. But He isn't like two things that are mixed together to form a third thing. He isn’t a hybrid of God and man. He is neither a “super man” nor is He a lesser god. He is the God-man, the unique Person in whom the fullness of the Deity dwells in human flesh and blood. That's what the disciples glimpsed on the mountain that day. They saw Jesus in His glory as God shining through His humanity. 

And this is an important point about Jesus. His divine nature is never without His human nature. So, when we say that Jesus is present in the Blessed Sacrament, we mean that He is present as the God-man.  Both His divine and human natures are present. Of course, there are some who deny this. They say that His presence is simply symbolic or spiritual – but what God has joined we must not separate. We must leave Jesus whole, and not try to pull Him apart. We cannot have a human Jesus sometimes, and a divine Jesus at other times. Either He is the God-man in the crib, on the Mount of Transfiguration, on the cross, at the right hand of the Father, and in the Blessed Sacrament, or else He is not the One who mediates between God and man. He touches our humanity and the Father's divinity, and He does it without dividing Himself. 

In Christ, God was born of a virgin mother. In Christ, a man shone with the glory of God on the mountain. In Christ, God suffered on the cross. In Christ, a man reigns over all things at the right hand of the Father. 

This means when Jesus deals with us, He deals with us according to our humanity, in a flesh and blood way. He comes to us under the outward signs of simple bread and wine. He speaks to us through words spoken by a human mouth which enter our hearts and minds by way of our physical ears. He uses things like water and oil to give us eternal life and healing. He deals with us in earthy and ordinary ways. He honours our humanity by becoming human and engaging us as human beings, as the creatures of God that we are. It is through the human flesh of Jesus that God has chosen to reveal Himself to us. 

Jesus is the true Light that shines into the darkness of this world. He is the Light that shines into the darkness of death, the Light that shines into the darkness of everything that we fear.  It is the very same Jesus who was laid in a manger, who was carried in Simeon's arms in the temple, who was changed in appearance before His three disciples, who hung on the cross, who died and was buried, who was raised from the dead and now lives and reigns. It's all one and the same Jesus, whether He is gloriously gleaming like the sun or ingloriously dying in the darkness. 

And at every single Mass we come into that same glorious presence of Jesus Christ together with the angels and the archangels and all the company of heaven. At every Mass we are setting foot on the mountain with Jesus. At every Mass we receive forgiveness, life, and salvation. At every Mass Christ comes to preach His Word of forgiveness to us and to feed us with His Body and Blood. At every Mass something greater than the transfiguration takes place. The same Jesus is present for us as He was for His disciples on the mountain. The only difference is that we cannot see Him as the apostles did that day. 

Nor would we want to see Him, really. The sight of Jesus in His glory would be too much to bear. Peter was left talking about making booths. In the Book of the Revelation, St. John the Divine saw Christ in all His glory and fell at His feet like a dead man. As Scripture says, "no one may look on God and live." But Jesus is kind and gentle toward us. He reserves His full blast glory for the Last Day. 

For now, He comes hidden in humility. He is so hidden that sometimes people pass Him by without noticing. But the voice from the cloud draws our attention on where it needs to be: namely, on Jesus. "This is my beloved Son. Hear Him." As great as was this vision of Moses, Elijah, and Jesus in His glory, the center and focus is always Jesus alone. The voice of the Father declares Him to be His beloved Son, just as He did at His Baptism. He directs our ears to His voice. "Listen to Him." Listen to Him because He alone has the words of eternal life. Listen to Him because His words are Spirit and they are life. Listen to Him because He is God's word of undeserved kindness to us. In the former times God spoke by the prophets, by Moses and Elijah. But now in these last days, He has spoken to us by His Son Jesus Christ. 

Where Jesus is, Moses and Elijah slip into the background. When Jesus speaks, Moses and Elijah become silent. With the Father's voice having spoken from the cloud, the gospel says that the disciples "saw no one but Jesus only." 

Only Jesus. That's what the Mount of Transfiguration is all about. That's what the sacraments are all about. Only Jesus. Only He is God's beloved Son. Only He shines with the glory of God through human flesh and blood. Only He bore our sins in His own body nailed to the tree. Only He sits at the right hand of the Father to pray for us, to forgive us, to give us life in His Name. Only He reveals the glory of God to save us and deliver us. 

And as Jesus has His way with us, we too are being transfigured, changed from the inside out, changed to be like Him. For now, that work is hidden under weakness. But on the Day when Jesus again appears in glory for all the world to see, He will change our bodies to be like His glorious body. 

And what a Day of Transfiguration that will be! Our weakness will be transformed into strength. Every tear will be wiped away, and there will be no sorrow which is not turned to joy, as He brings about a “new heaven and a new earth,” restoring all things to Himself. 

Behold our Lord transfigured,

In Sacrament Divine;

His glory deeply hidden,

'Neath forms of Bread and Wine.

Our eyes of faith behold Him,

Salvation is outpoured;

The Saviour dwells among us,

by ev'ry heart adored.

No longer on the mountain

With Peter, James and John,

Our precious Saviour bids us

To walk where saints have gone.

He has no lasting dwelling,

Save in the hearts of men;

He feeds us with His Body,

To make us whole again.

With Moses and Elijah,

We worship Christ our King;

Lord, make our souls transfigured,

Let us with angels sing.

Lead us in paths of glory,

Give tongues to sing thy praise;

Lord Jesus, keep us faithful,

Now and for all our days.

Text: Fr. Christopher G. Phillips, 1990

Music: "Ewing" by Alexander C. Ewing, 1853

_________________________

Painting: "The Transfiguration" 

by William Fergusson Hole RSA 

(7 November 1846 – 22 October 1917)

Dedication of St. Mary Major

From The Church's Year of Grace, Pius Parsch:

The Basilica of St. Mary Major is important to Christendom for three reasons.

- It stands as a venerable monument to the Council of Ephesus (431), at which the dogma of Mary's divine Motherhood was solemnly defined; the definition of the Council occasioned a most notable increase in the veneration paid to Mary.

- The basilica is Rome's "church of the crib," a kind of Bethlehem within the Eternal City; it also is a celebrated station church, serving, for instance, as the center for Rome's liturgy for the first Mass on Christmas. In some measure every picture of Mary with the divine Child is traceable to this church.

- St. Mary Major is Christendom's first Marian shrine for pilgrims. It set the precedent for the countless shrines where pilgrims gather to honor our Blessed Mother throughout the world. Here was introduced an authentic expression of popular piety that has been the source of untold blessings and graces for Christianity in the past as in the present.

The beginnings of St. Mary Major date to the Constantinian period. Originally it was called the Sicinini Basilica; it was the palace of a patrician family by that name before its transformation into a church by Pope Liberius. The story of its origin is legendary, dating from the Middle Ages. The Breviary gives this version: "Liberius was on the chair of Peter (352-366) when the Roman patrician John and his wife, who was of like nobility, vowed to bequeath their estate to the most holy Virgin and Mother of God, for they had no children to whom their property could go. The couple gave themselves to assiduous prayer, beseeching Mary to make known to them in some way what pious work they should subsidize in her honor.

Mary answered their petition and confirmed her reply by means of the following miracle. On the fifth of August — a time when it is unbearably hot in the city of Rome — a portion of the Esquiline would be covered with snow during the night. During that same night the Mother of God directed John and his wife in separate dreams to build a church to be dedicated to the Virgin Mary on the site where they would see snow lying. For it was in this manner that she wanted her inheritance to be used.

John immediately reported the whole matter to Pope Liberius, and he declared that a similar dream had come to him. Accompanied by clergy and people, Liberius proceeded on the following morning in solemn procession to the snow-covered hill and there marked off the area on which the church in Mary's honor was to be constructed.

Under Pope Sixtus III (432-440) the basilica was rebuilt, and upon the occasion of the definition of Mary's divine Motherhood by the Council of Ephesus, consecrated to her honor (432). He decorated the apse and walls with mosaics from the lives of Christ and His blessed Mother, which even to this day beautify the church and belong to the oldest we possess. As early as the end of the fourth century a replica of the Bethlehem nativity grotto had been added; on this account the edifice became known as "St. Mary of the Crib." To the Christian at Rome this church is Bethlehem. Other names for the basilica are: Liberian Basilica, because it dates to the time of Pope Liberius; St. Mary Major (being the largest church in Mary's honor in Rome); Our Lady of the Snow, because of the miracle that supposedly occasioned its erection.

We could point out how the divine Motherhood mystery dominates all Marian liturgy; for the Theotokos doctrine has kept Mariology Christo-centric in the Church's worship. Although recent popular devotion to Mary has become to a certain extent soft and sentimental and has, one may say, erected its own sanctuary around Mary as the center, devotion to our Blessed Mother in the liturgy has always remained oriented to Christ. In the liturgy the divine Motherhood has always been the bridge from Mary to Jesus. One need only examine Matins in honor of Mary or the Masses from her Common to be reassured. Everywhere Christ takes the central position, and Mary is the Christbearer.

Pope Liberius tracing the outline of the basilica in the August snowfall.

The High Altar.

Reliquary containing the major relic of the Manger.

Concerning Catholic Education

Having spent three and a half decades as a pastor, and for most of those years also responsible for founding and guiding a parish school, I am always keen to find support and guidance for those who serve as Catholic educators.

Although now retired, I continue my personal study of the Scriptures, and recently was reading this passage from St. Luke’s Gospel (9:18-22):

Now it happened that as Jesus was praying alone the disciples were with him; and he asked them, "Who do the people say that I am?" And they answered, "John the Baptist; but others say, Elijah; and others, that one of the old prophets has risen." And he said to them, "But who do you say that I am?" And Peter answered, "The Christ of God." But he charged and commanded them to tell this to no one, saying, "The Son of man must suffer many things, and be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised."

It seems to me that in many ways this describes the work of Catholic educators. Jesus began by asking what men were saying about him; and then, suddenly, He aims the question at the Twelve, "Who do you say that I am?"

Certainly, Catholic educators do teach their students what “others have said” – whether it be about Jesus, or His moral teaching, or various philosophies and concepts, or the principles of science and mathematics, or the mystery and beauty of music – all of which open up truth to them. It is important for students to know what others who have come before them have said and taught.

But when it comes to the ultimate Truth – the fullness of Truth which we know in Christ Jesus – it is never enough to know only what other people have said. An educated person might be able to pass an examination on what has been said and thought about Truth. He might have read every book about theology and philosophy, about science and the arts, and he might have read all the great literature ever written in every language upon earth and yet still not be engaged with the Incarnate Word as the final and highest and most personal expression of the fullness of Truth.

The greater part of the task of Catholic educators must always be to have students answer the question our Lord asked the apostles, “Who do you say that I am?”

In the end, any educational institution which cannot engage its students in that question cannot be educating the whole person. It is the fatal weakness of secular schools. Truth cannot be something which is only talked about. Ultimately, Christ comes to each person, not asking "can you tell me what others have said and written about me?" but rather, "who do you say that I am?" When he was writing to St. Timothy, St. Paul did not say, "I know what I have believed"; but he said, "I know whom I have believed" (2 Tim. 1:12).

This is task and privilege of Catholic educators – that of presenting the truth, and then making it personal...because Truth is a Person.

St. John Vianney, Priest and Confessor

St. John Vianney, also known as the Holy Curé de Ars, was born May 8, 1786 in Dardilly, near Lyon, France to a family of farmers. He was an unremarkable student and his bishop was reluctant to ordain him.  He did so in 1815 only because there was a shortage of priests.  He was then sent to the remote French community of Ars in 1818 to be a parish priest.

Upon his arrival, the priest immediately began praying and working for the conversion of his parishioners. Although he saw himself as unworthy of his mission as pastor, he allowed himself to be consumed by the love of God as he served the people.

St. John Vianney slowly helped to revive the community’s faith through both his prayers and the witness of his life. He gave powerful homilies on the mercy and love of God, and it is said that even staunch sinners were converted upon hearing him. In addition, he restored his church, formed an orphanage, and cared for the poor.

His reputation as a confessor grew rapidly, and pilgrims traveled from all over France to come to him in the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Firmly committed to the conversion of the people, he would spend up to 16 hours a day in the confessional.

Plagued by many trials and besieged by the devil, St. John Vianney remained firm in his faith, and lived a life of devotion to God. Dedicated to the Blessed Sacrament, he spent much time in prayer and practiced much mortification. He lived on little food and sleep, while working without rest in unfailing humility, gentleness, patience and cheerfulness, until he was well into his 70s.

St. John Vianney died on August 4, 1859. More than a thousand people attended his funeral, including the bishop and priests of the diocese, who already viewed his life as a model of priestly holiness.

The Holy Curé of Ars was canonized by Pope Pius XI in 1925. He is the patron saint of priests. Over 450,000 pilgrims travel to Ars every year in remembrance of his holy life.

Almighty and merciful God, who didst wonderfully endue Saint John Vianney with pastoral zeal and a continual desire for prayer and penance: grant, we beseech thee; that by his example and intercession, we may win the souls of our brethren for Christ, and with them attain glory everlasting; through the same Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.