Dedication of St. John Lateran

On November 9th the Catholic Church throughout the world celebrates the anniversary of the consecration of the Archbasilica of the Most Holy Saviour in the city of Rome, known also as St. John Lateran. On the façade is carved the proud title “Omnium Urbis et Orbis Ecclesiarum Mater et Caput” – “The Mother and Head of all Churches of the City and of the World.” It is the cathedral of Rome – it is the Pope’s Cathedral, and so is, in a sense, the Cathedral of the world – senior in dignity even to St. Peter’s Basilica.

One of the reasons we celebrate this Feast is because the Church wants us to remember the importance of consecrated places in which the worship of God takes place. It reminds us of the importance of the consecration of every Catholic Church throughout the world. It is a reminder to us of the Incarnational principle on which our faith is based – that God extends His spiritual blessings to us through the use of physical things. He took human flesh upon Himself. He has instituted seven sacraments which use outward forms to communicate inward grace. He has established a hierarchical Church, with a physical presence in the world, to be a sign of His own presence with us.

O Most blessed Saviour, who didst vouchsafe thy gracious presence at the Feast of Dedication: be present with us at this time by thy Holy Spirit, and so possess our souls by thy grace; that we may be living temples, holy and acceptable unto thee; who livest and reignest with the Father, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

A Prayer for Our President-Elect

Almighty and eternal God, we beseech thee to bless our President-elect, Donald Trump. Protect him from all danger, grant him wisdom and grace in the exercise of his duties, and give him courage in leading us, that there may be peace in our nation and throughout the world; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

St. Charles Borromeo, Bishop

Charles Borromeo was born into an aristocratic, very wealthy Italian family. The family lived in a beautiful castle and lived lavishly, with an extravagant life of entertaining a court of noblemen. Charles was very good at athletics, music, art, and he enjoyed all the fine things that went along with the life of a rich and famous family. His mother was one of the Medici family, and one of his uncles was the pope. As was usual in those days, his uncle the pope made Charles a cardinal when he was only twenty-three and gave him many honours and titles. He was appointed papal legate to Bologna, the Low Countries, the cantons of Switzerland, and to the religious orders of St. Francis, the Carmelites, the Knights of Malta, and others.

When Charles’ father died, everyone thought that Charles would give up his ecclesiastical positions, and that he would marry some young noblewoman, and become the head of the Borromeo family. But Charles didn’t do that. Instead, he discerned a vocation to ordination, and he became a priest. Not long after, he was appointed bishop of Milan, a city that had not had a resident bishop for over eighty years.

Although he had been accustomed to a rich and extravagant life, when Charles was ordained and then became the Bishop of Milan, he spent much of his time dealing with hardship and suffering. There was a terrible famine in the year 1570 and he took on the responsibility of providing food to feed 3,000 people a day for three months. Six years later, another plague swept through the region. Bishop Borromeo organized his priests, religious, and lay volunteers to feed and care for the almost 70,000 people living in part of his diocese. He personally cared for many who were sick and dying, and he spent all his money doing it. In fact, he even ran up huge debts so that he could feed, clothe, and provide medical care, as well as build shelters for thousands of plague-stricken people.

He once ordered an atonement procession and led it with a rope about his neck, with bare and bloody feet, a cross upon his shoulder, thus presenting himself as an expiatory sacrifice for his people to ward off divine punishment. He died in 1584 at the age of forty-six, dressed in sackcloth and ashes, holding a picture of Jesus Crucified in his hands. His last words were, "See, Lord, I am coming, I am coming soon."

Keep, O Lord, thy Church by the continual protection of Saint Charles Borromeo: that as his zeal for thy flock did render him glorious; so his intercession may ever make us fervent in thy love; 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.

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"St. Charles Borromeo Ministering to the Plague-Infected"

by Caspar Franz Sambach (1715-1795)

Love: The Fulfilling of the Law

One of the scribes came up to Jesus and asked him, "Which commandment is the first of all?" Jesus answered, "The first is, 'Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one; and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.' The second is this, 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.' There is no other commandment greater than these. "

- St. Mark 12:28-31

A question comes to our Lord from an expert in the Law, a Scribe. "Which commandment is the first of all?" In other words, “If you could summarize everything that Moses taught in one simple commandment, what would that commandment be?”

In fact, this was a question to which the scribes really did want to have an answer. They were the experts in the Law who drew out from the Torah rules and regulations for every possible situation. They knew God expected His law to be obeyed, and they were always interested in what the Law required. There were certain “schools of Pharisees” who wanted to know “what is the minimum, the bottom line, the summary?” The rabbis were searching for “the Torah in a nutshell,” a least common denominator, kind of “bumper-sticker-sized” slogan that would fully capture the Law of God. So far, all they had managed to do was multiply the commandments. In fact, God had summed things up pretty neatly in what we call the "Ten Commandments," but the Jewish religious leaders had managed to expand things to 613 “do's and don'ts,” and they were still counting!

Of course, there have always been religious people, including some religious leaders, who do their best to render religion non-demanding and harmless, looking for a minimum – a religion that asks “What's the least that I have to do?” “How often do I really have to go to church?” “How much do I really have to give God?” “How often do I really need to pray?” “How much do I really need to know?” “What's the bottom line?” This kind of “minimal religion” tries to keep things practical and painless. It delights in loopholes, and bargains with God to keep standards low. It tries to pare the Law down to a more manageable size. It substitutes niceness for perfection, morality for holiness. But God didn't say "Put in a little bit of effort to be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy." He said, "Be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy."

The scribe in today’s Gospel may well have started out by trying to set a trap for Jesus. He may have been wondering, “How far would this rabbi from Nazareth be willing to dilute the Law?” So he tries to get Jesus to single out one law as being “most important.” Jesus knew the trap, and so He replies with not one, but with two great commandments – because there is always more with Jesus, always more than you are asking for. "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.” To list “heart, soul, mind and strength” is the Hebrew way of saying “all of you,” every last bit of you, with nothing held back from God. Love God with every fiber of your being. That is the first and great commandment.

Jesus goes on, “the second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’” The two go side by side, hand in hand. The love of God and the love of our neighbor are inseparable. We cannot claim to love God if we don't love our neighbor. On these two commandments - the love of God and the love of neighbor - the entire Law and the Prophets hang. They’re like twin hooks that hold up the entire Law of God. So Jesus teaches that the entire law of God can be boiled down to two simple commandments: Love God with your whole being; and love whomever God puts in your path as much as you love yourself.

In fact, Jesus distilled the Law down to one word: Love. St. Paul wrote to the Romans: "He who loves his neighbor has fulfilled the law… Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore love is the fulfilling of the law."

And yet, there are those who have trouble with the word "love." They think it's a feeling, something you “fall into,” a warm fuzzy feeling on the inside. But love, as Jesus is teaching us, is not primarily a feeling; rather, love is an orientation of the will in action toward another. To love God and to love our neighbor doesn’t mean that we have particular feelings about God or our neighbor. That's not to say that love doesn't have feelings associated with it: certainly, it does. But love itself, in its essence, is not a feeling.

There was a priest who always asked couples when they came to him for marriage preparation, why they wanted to get married. Invariably, they would say, "Because we love each other." And he would usually say something like, "That's very nice, now come up with a good reason why you want to get married!" His point was that love doesn't define or shape marriage; rather, marriage defines and shapes love. It is an orientation between husband and wife because they are husband and wife. The same could also be applied in the other direction, when couples want to end their marriage because they “don't love each other any more.” What should be said to them is, “That’s not good enough. Come up with a legitimate reason for separating."

We should understand that love isn't something that you “fall into.” We fall into holes and ditches, not into love. It's a curious expression, "to fall in love." Falling means losing your balance, losing your control. Falling is an “out of control” experience. But instead of a “falling” experience, love is really a deliberate action of the will. To love means deliberately to turn ourselves toward another, to give away something of ourselves to someone else without any regard for what we might get in return. The Scriptures describe love in self-sacrificing terms: "Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things." To love is to be turned inside out, toward someone outside of yourself - whether toward God or toward your neighbor.

As Jesus taught in the parable of the Good Samaritan - our neighbor – the one who is to be the object of our love - is anyone whom God has put in our path, anyone who has need of us at any particular moment. That may be someone with whom we have a brief encounter on the street or while we’re waiting in line at the grocery store or at the doctor's office. It may be the person who is in the hospital bed next to us. Our neighbor is a member of our household, it’s your husband or wife, it’s your children, it’s your in-laws. Your neighbor is the person who lives next door, or two and three doors down the street. Your neighbor is your fellow Christian, your coworker, or your classmate at school, or perhaps someone you’ve never met personally.

We have lots of neighbors, often more than we realize. Think of all the people with whom you come into contact each day. Those are the people whom the Law says we are to love, whether they’re kind to us or not, whether we like them or not, whether we feel like it or not. And if we don’t love our neighbor whom we see, how can we claim to love God whom we do not see?

Jesus links the love of our neighbor with our love of God. We love God by loving our neighbor. The cup of water we give to someone who is thirsty, we’ve given to God. The food we give to the hungry, we’ve given to God. The comfort we give to someone who is suffering, we’ve given to God. The time we spend enriching the lives of others is time offered to God.

And what it comes down to is this: our love flows from God's love. When we love, it’s because we have first been loved by God in Jesus Christ. Christ’s death and resurrection free us to love God and to love our neighbor. We no longer have to love; rather, we are allowed to love. We don't love in order to get to heaven; we love because heaven is already ours in Christ. We don't love in order to win God's favor; we love because we already have God's favor in Christ. We don't love so that God will love us; we love because God has loved us in Christ with the greatest love we will ever know, the crucified love of Jesus Christ.

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Painting: "Les pharisiens questionnent Jésus"

by Jacques Joseph Tissot (1836-1902)

All Souls Day

Christ’s Holy Catholic Church is comprised of three parts: the Church Militant, the Church Expectant, and the Church Triumphant. Together, this is the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church.

The Faithful here on earth make up the Church Militant; “militant” because we are engaged in a constant battle with evil; “militant” because at our baptism, we became “soldiers of Christ” and at our confirmation we were fitted out with the armour of God — the helmet of salvation, the breastplate of righteousness, the sword of truth. We are the Church Militant because we are called to be brave in fighting evil, and in proclaiming and living Christ’s truth — that truth which is revealed to us by God through his Holy Catholic Church.

On All Saints Day we celebrate the Church Triumphant - those known to us and unknown, who are holy and pleasing and are with God - the ones who are filled with God’s sanctifying grace. When we think of saints, we might think of people very different from ourselves, but being part of the Church Triumphant is the goal and destination of everyone who has been marked with Christ’s cross in baptism. It’s not just for the few. There is a place reserved for each one of us, if we will but take the place. It is the vocation of each of us to be saints. It is our hope in Christ Jesus that at some point in the future the celebration of All Saints will include each one of us.

But on All Souls Day we commemorate the second part of the Church - the Church Expectant - those faithful Christians who have died, but who still need cleansing or purgation. We are bidden by Scripture and the Church to pray for them, as they are cleansed and made ready for heaven. They undergo a purgation - a “cleansing” - until they are ready to behold the Beatific Vision, which is to see God face to face. Purgatory is a place of hope because it affords us the opportunity to be properly prepared for heaven. We confess our sins while we are here on earth and receive absolution and do penance so that we will not be irreparably stained with mortal sin, which would send us to hell, and so that we might rid ourselves of venial sins, and thus hasten our passage through purgatory.

Our prayers for the Faithful Departed are essential to them. Although they can pray for us, they cannot pray for themselves. The Church makes available indulgences which we can gain for the departed, and we are encouraged to have Masses said for them, but even in our daily prayers it is part of our Christian duty to remember all those who await the day when they will be joined to the company of all the saints in heaven.

O God, the Creator and Redeemer of all them that believe: grant unto the souls of thy servants and handmaids the remission of all their sins; that as they have ever desired thy merciful pardon, so by the supplications of their brethren they may receive the same; 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.

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Indulgence for the Holy Souls in Purgatory

One of the spiritual works of mercy is to pray for the Faithful Departed, who can do no more for themselves. There are plenary indulgences assigned to this season, outlined in the Enchiridion, which you may obtain for the Holy Souls in Purgatory:

1. A plenary indulgence, applicable ONLY to the souls in purgatory, may be obtained by those who, on All Souls Day, piously visit a church, public oratory, or for those entitled to use it, a semi-public oratory. It may be acquired either on the day designated as All Souls Day or, with the consent of the bishop, on the preceding or following Sunday or the feast of All Saints. On visiting the church or oratory it is required that one Our Father and the Creed be recited.

2. You may make a visit to a Cemetery or Columbarium. A plenary indulgence is applicable to the souls in Purgatory when one devoutly visits and prays for the departed. This work may be done each day between November 1 and November 8.

To obtain a Plenary Indulgence, one must fulfill the following requirements:

1. Make a Sacramental Confession,
2. Receive Holy Communion,
3. Offer prayer for the intention of the Holy Father.

All these are to be performed within days of each other, if not at the same time.

Solemnity of All Saints

Rejoice we all, and praise the Lord, celebrating a holy-day in honour of all the Saints: in whose solemnity the Angels are joyful, and glorify the Son of God. (Ps) Rejoice in the Lord, O ye righteous: for it becometh well the just to be thankful.

O Almighty God, who hast knit together thine elect in one communion and fellowship, in the mystical body of thy Son Christ our Lord: grant us grace so to follow thy blessed Saints in all virtuous and godly living; that through their intercession we may come to those unspeakable joys, which thou hast prepared for them that unfeignedly love thee; 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.

"Behold, a great multitude..."

St. John the Divine was nearly a hundred years old when he was exiled to the island of Patmos. It was there that he had his great vision: “I looked, and behold, a great multitude which no man could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and tongues, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, ‘Salvation belongs to our God who sits upon the throne, and to the Lamb!’”

This was his great vision of all the saints, and they were standing there because of everything that has gone before. Their holiness is the fruit of all the events in Christ's life, from His Conception and Nativity, to the Resurrection and the Ascension and Pentecost – all those things happened to make saints.

Saints aren’t born; rather, they’re made. We are all born with the potential to become saints. The only difference between those who aren’t saints and those who are, is the difference between people who repent and confess after sinning, and those who refuse to repent and so purposely continue in their sin.

Because one of the purposes of the Church is to make saints, so the characteristics of the saints are the characteristics of the Church. In the Creed we confess that we believe “One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church.” These words which define the Church, also define the saints.

The saints are One because they are together. We speak of the communion of the saints. The saints are One, they are united with one another because they are united with Christ.

The saints are also obviously holy. The word “saint” (from “sanctus”) means holy. They’ve been made holy by Christ, through the sacraments, through prayer, through grasping hold of and using God’s grace daily.

The saints are also Catholic, that is, “universal.” In other words, their holiness is the same in all places and at all times. We commemorate all the saints of all countries and of all centuries and of all backgrounds. We recall saints of all ages, of all nationalities, men, women and children, the poor and the rich, the old and the young, the healthy and the sick. They all confess the same Faith. The holiness of the Saints is universal throughout all ages.

And the saints are Apostolic. They share in the same Faith and Tradition that Christ gave to the Apostles, and they shared this Faith with the world through their words and in their lives. Their holiness wasn’t just for themselves; their holiness is for the whole world.

We ask the prayers of all the saints, that through their constant intercession we might be made saints, to have our place with them as the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic people of God.

A Simple Hymn

O precious Lord, once born for us

in stable small and poor;

be born again within our hearts,

and there let us adore.

As once our Saviour thou didst come,

both Man and God divine,

so now thou givest Flesh and Blood

'neath forms of bread and wine.

Sweet Fruit of Virgin Mary's womb,

once hid from earthly sight,

may we thy children fruitful be,

and show the world thy Light.

Now stay with us, Lord Jesus Christ,

in solemn Mystery,

that when our work on earth be done

thy glory we may see.

Tune: "St. Botolph" by Gordon Slater (1896-1979)

Text: Fr. Christopher G. Phillips, 1992

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Painting: "Madonna dell'Ulivo"

by Nicolo Barabino (1832-1891)

St. Simon and St. Jude, Apostles

Both Simon and Jude were men chosen by Jesus Himself to teach others about God’s love and to “make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19) by carrying on the ministry of Christ after His resurrection and ascension. Their lives help us to understand that even the most ordinary people can become saints when they decide to follow the Lord Jesus Christ.

Both these men were known by other names during their lives. Simon was often called “the Zealot.” He firmly believed in the importance of people following the letter of Jewish law. Once he met Jesus, his life was changed and he became convinced that the most important thing was to follow the Lord and His teachings. We believe that another reason Simon had a nickname was to keep people from confusing him with the other Apostle named Simon, the one Jesus called Peter.

Jude was also known as “Jude Thaddeus.” People used this formal title so that he was not confused with Judas, the Apostle who betrayed Jesus and handed Him over to be arrested. Jude is the patron saint of hopeless cases. People often pray to Jude when they feel that there is no one else to turn to, asking St. Jude to bring their problem to Jesus. Because Jude had such great faith, we know that nothing is impossible for those who believe and trust in the Lord.

Simon and Jude traveled together to teach others about Jesus. Because of their eyewitness accounts of Jesus’ miracles and His death and resurrection, many people became believers and were baptized. Simon and Jude died for their faith on the same day in Persia. These two saints remind us to learn all we can about the Lord Jesus Christ and to share our faith in Him with others, as they did.

O ALMIGHTY God, who hast built thy Church upon the foundation of the Apostles and Prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the head corner-stone: grant us so to be joined together in unity of spirit by their doctrine; that we may be made an holy temple acceptable unto thee; 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.

Taking Time

Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?” And the blind man said to him, “Master , let me receive my sight.” And Jesus said to him, “Go your way; your faith has made you well.” And immediately he received his sight and followed him on the way.

- St. Mark 10:51, 52

Our Lord was travelling out of the city of Jericho with His disciples, and there were lots of people along with them. Everyone was headed for Jerusalem to keep the Feast of the Passover. Christ knew what was waiting for Him there: He would eat the Passover meal for the last time with His apostles; one of them would betray Him into the eager hands of those who had come to hate Him; He would be put on trial; He would be mocked and spat upon, and He would shoulder His cross, dragging it to the place where He would be pierced with nails and then be raised up in agony, when He would then die as the final and true Passover Lamb, sacrificed for the sins of the world. Christ knew all that.

But for now, none of those travelling with Jesus knew these things. As far as they were concerned, this was a Passover pilgrimage, a time to go to the city of Jerusalem and worship in the great temple there. So we can imagine that there was plenty of talking going on. It was a festive time because they were going to up to Jerusalem to celebrate. What Christ’s divine mind knew about what was to come – of all those things, His apostles were completely ignorant. This was a time for animated conversations, and for asking Jesus questions and straining to hear His answers as they walked along. He was, after all, their Master, and they were used to sharing ideas and conversations with Him.

But above the noise of the crowd a voice is heard. It was the voice of poor old blind Bartimaeus. He was one of the lowest people on the social scale; he was accustomed to crying out to catch the attention of passers-by because he was a blind beggar, living off the charity of others. And here he was, begging again – but this time, begging for his sight. Everyone was telling him to be quiet, but he kept it up until finally Jesus stood still and asked that Bartimaeus be brought to Him. And then came the question: “What do you want me to do for you?” Of course, Jesus knew already what Bartimaeus wanted, but it was important for Bartimaeus to ask. “Master, let me receive my sight.” And the response? “Go your way; your faith has made you well.”

This healing of Bartimaeus is particularly interesting because of its place in the timeline of Christ’s earthly ministry. It is the last healing recorded in St. Mark’s Gospel. In Jericho, Jesus and the apostles were only about seventeen miles from Jerusalem. The period of His ministry in which Jesus had performed His miracles had already come to a close, because, as the Gospels tell us, “his face was set towards Jerusalem.” He was headed for the cross now, and He had already made the point He wanted to make through His miracles and His words. He had proclaimed the Kingdom of God, and the manifestation of His divine power had already done its work. Those who saw and believed were blessed; those who had seen but who did not believe certainly were not going to be convinced by one more healing. And in fact, those around Christ there in Jericho – His apostles and other disciples – they already believed, insofar as they were able to know and understand. That is what makes this healing all the more noteworthy. This was something Jesus did which really made no great difference to the purpose of His earthly ministry. In fact, when compared to the panorama of events that was about to unfold in Jerusalem, it was insignificant – insignificant, that is, except to one person: Bartimaeus. For old blind Bartimaeus it was a work of mercy and an act of love.

And that’s exactly why Jesus did it – to remind us of how important it is to stop for something that might seem to be insignificant to us. We can get so absorbed in our own work, our own interests, our own goals, we can get so caught up in what we think is important, that when an individual gets in the way of any of that, we think of him as a nuisance. We see this even with parents who are so busy providing enough to give their children what they think is a good life, that they don’t have enough time to share the joy and wonder of life with their children. Or doctors who are so taken up with the intricacies of medicine that they don’t spend time comforting a patient who’s facing a frightening surgery. Or teachers who are so involved with the business of education that they can’t spare the time to guide just one child who’s getting left behind. Or priests who are so busy with parish programs that they neglect to take the time to give comfort to somebody who is in spiritual darkness.

But Jesus did take the time. Now, from a purely human point of view, one more blind man healed wasn’t going to make a big difference to the totality of Christ’s earthly life and ministry. But it made a world of difference to Bartimaeus. To Christ, a work of love was never a small thing, nor should it be small to us. From a purely human point of view, what’s one tiny private act of kindness? A drop in the bucket. But Jesus highly values those little things. That’s why He reminded us that whatever we do to the least of His brethren, we’ve done to Him. And the opposite also is true: whenever we’ve neglected to do some small kindness, neglected to give some word of comfort, neglected to do some work of charity, we’ve neglected Christ himself.

When Bartimaeus called out, Jesus stopped. He gave all His attention – the whole of His divine mind and the whole of His Sacred Heart – to this one blind old beggar. Maybe that’s the key point for us in this Gospel: that Jesus stopped. It’s so easy for us to get caught up in a self-imposed schedule, doing all sorts of things that seem to be important, but which really have little lasting effect on people who matter. How many times have you heard it said by someone, or you’ve said it yourself, “I’m so busy!” It isn’t easy to stop; it isn’t easy to take time with people who need our time. But Jesus never healed anyone while He was “on the run.” And we cannot expect to have much good effect on our loved ones and on others if we don’t stop long enough to be with them.

The giving of time – and with it, real respect towards someone else as a person who matters – meets a fundamental human need. It may help explain many of our larger social problems. So often people just want to lump other people together as a particular class, or a particular group, and not as individuals with special worth and dignity.

Jesus Christ, as the Incarnate God, did not come generically “to the world.” He comes to you and He comes to me. When He walked upon this earth, He didn’t simply preach to the crowds; He stopped for blind Bartimaeus. And that’s the way He has remained: when He comes to us in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, He is telling each one of us, “I love you. I died for you. I give myself to you.”

In many ways, we’re like poor old blind Bartimaeus, calling out to Jesus. Christ gave Bartimaeus his sight, and we have to pray that He gives us our sight as well: sight, so that we can see Christ in every person. And if we have that sight – if we have eyes to see Jesus in others, and are moved to treat them with the same love and respect as we would treat Christ Himself – then, like Bartimaeus, we will be following Christ the way He wants to be followed.

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Painting: "The Healing of the Blind"

by Nicholas Poussin (1593-1665)

Our Lady, Queen of Palestine

Members of the Equestrian Order of the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre (along with Christians throughout the Holy Land) commemorate Our Lady, Queen of Palestine, who is the Patroness of the Order, each year on October 25th.

In 1927, the Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, Msgr. Louis Barlassina, because of his great concern about the political situation in the region, built a monastery, church, and orphanage in the village of Deir Rafat, and dedicated them to Our Lady, Queen of Palestine. In 1933, he instituted October 25 as a feast day in her honour under that title, and it was confirmed by the Holy See. Ever since, Deir Rafat has been a place of pilgrimage for this devotion, a much-needed source of solace for the Catholics of the Holy Land.

It is understood that this name designation, namely “Queen of Palestine” has not and has never had any political connotation since the entire Holy Land, at the time, was under the British Mandate, and was known as “Palestine." The title reflects that historical reality.

Please pray for the Christians of the Holy Land.

O Mary Immaculate, gracious Queen of Heaven and Earth, we are prostrate at your feet, sure of your goodness and confident in your power.

We beg you to look kindly on the Holy Land, which, more than any other country, belongs to you since you have honored it by your birth, your virtues and your pain, and that it is here where you gave the Savior of the World.

Remember that you were made Mother and dispenser of graces. Deign to grant special protection to your earthly homeland to dispel the darkness of the error, so that the sun of eternal justice may shine on it and that the promise, fallen from the lips of your divine Son to form one flock under the guidance of one shepherd, may be fulfilled.

Obtain us to serve the Lord in righteousness and holiness, every day of our lives, so that by the merits of Jesus, with your maternal protection, we can pass from the earthly Jerusalem to the splendors of the heavenly Jerusalem.

Grant us, O merciful God, protection in our weakness: That we who celebrate the memory of the holy Mother of God, Our Lady Queen of Palestine, may, by her intercession, be delivered from our sins; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee in the unity of the Holy Ghost ever, one God world without end. Amen.

St. Anthony Mary Claret

Known as the "spiritual father of Cuba," St. Anthony Mary Claret was a missionary, a religious founder, a social reformer, chaplain to the Queen of Spain, a writer and publisher, and an archbishop. Born in Spain, his work took him to the Canary Islands, Cuba, Madrid, Paris and he was one of the Fathers of the First Vatican Council.

As a young man he worked as a weaver in the textile mills of Barcelona, and he was always looking for ways to improve himself. He learned Latin, and he also learned the printing trade – two things he would use during his ministry. He was ordained at the age of 28, but ill-health prevented him from entering religious life as he thought he wanted to, either as a Carthusian or as a Jesuit, but nonetheless, he went on to become one of Spain’s most dynamic and well-known preachers.

He spent 10 years giving popular missions and retreats, always placing great emphasis on the Eucharist and devotion to the Immaculate Heart of Mary. Then at the age of 42, beginning with five young priests, he founded a religious institute of missionaries, known today as the Claretians.

St. Anthony Mary Claret was appointed to be the archbishop of Santiago in Cuba, which had been very much neglected by previous archbishops. The Catholic faith was at a low point there when he arrived. He began to reform things by almost constantly preaching and hearing confessions. He became deeply resented because he told men and women that they needed to marry, rather than just live together, and he was also hated because he gave Catholic instruction to the many black slaves in the area. In fact, his enemies even hired an assassin who tried to stab him to death, and when he failed, St. Anthony forgave him, and managed to get the death sentence commuted to a prison term. Many of the Cubans were living in poverty, and he encouraged family-owned farms which could produce a variety of foods for the family’s own needs and for the market. This made enemies out of the large sugar crop owners, who depended on the poor to work in the fields for them at very low pay.

He eventually returned to Spain to do a job he didn’t like — that of being chaplain for the queen, but in the revolution of 1868, he fled with the rest of the royal court to Paris, where he preached to the Spanish colony. All his life Anthony was interested in the Catholic press. He founded the Religious Publishing House, a major Catholic publishing venture in Spain, and wrote or published 200 books and pamphlets.

At the First Vatican Council, he was a staunch defender of the doctrine of infallibility, and he won the admiration of his fellow bishops. Cardinal Gibbons of Baltimore remarked of him, "There goes a true saint." In 1870, at the age of 63, he died in exile near the border of Spain.

O God, who for the evangelization of peoples didst strengthen the Bishop Saint Anthony Mary Claret with admirable charity and long-suffering: grant, through his intercession; that, seeking the things that are thine, we may earnestly devote ourselves to winning our brethren for Christ; who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

St. John of Capistrano

St. John was born in 1386 at Capistrano in the Italian Province of the Abruzzi. His father was a German knight and died when he was still young. St. John became a lawyer and attained the position of governor of Perugia. When war broke out between Perugia and Malatesta in 1416, St. John tried to broker a peace. Unfortunately, his opponents ignored the truce and St. John became a prisoner of war. On the death of his wife he entered the order of Friars Minor, was ordained and began to lead a very penitential life.

John became a disciple of Saint Bernadine of Siena and a noted preacher while still a deacon, beginning his work in 1420. The world at the time was in need of strong men to work for salvation of souls. Thirty percent of the population was killed by the Black Plague, the Church was split in schism and there were several men claiming to be pope. As an itinerant priest throughout Italy, Germany, Bohemia, Austria, Hungary, Poland, and Russia, St. John preached to tens of thousands and established communities of Franciscan renewal. He reportedly healed the sick by making the Sign of the Cross over them. He also wrote extensively, mainly against the heresies of the day.

He was successful in reconciling heretics. After the fall of Constantinople, he preached a crusade against the Muslim Turks. At age 70 he was commissioned by Pope Callistus II to lead it, and marched off at the head of 70,000 Christian soldiers. He won the great battle of Belgrade in the summer of 1456. He died in the field a few months later, but his army delivered Europe from the Moslems.

- from CatholicCulture.org

Almighty God, who willest to be glorified in thy saints, and didst raise up thy servant St. John of Capistrano to be a light in the world: Shine, we pray thee, in our hearts, that we also in our generation may show forth thy praise, who hast called us out of darkness into thy marvelous light; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

What a blessed time!

It's been a few years since I recounted these experiences, but the commemoration of Pope St. John Paul II has triggered these memories.

It was in November of 1983 that I was in Rome, taking part in the meetings which would result in the Book of Divine Worship, which serves as the foundation of the Anglican Use liturgy in the Catholic Church.

It was my first time in Rome. I had been ordained as a Catholic priest only a few months before. They were rather heady days for a young priest, walking each morning from the Casa del Clero to the Vatican offices where we were working.

On my first morning in Rome, I needed to find an altar where I could say Mass. There was a concelebrated Mass at the Casa, but I was ready for an adventure, so I headed on foot to St. Peter’s Basilica. I knew I needed to get there early, and I knew I should head immediately to the sacristy. Beyond that, I was completely ignorant about making arrangements for celebrating Mass there.

Arriving in the sacristy, and after being overwhelmed by my walk through the basilica, I was fortunate that the man at the desk was patient (and by Vatican standards, even somewhat merciful). He directed me to the vesting area, summoned an altar boy for me, and before long I was following the young server down the long corridor out into the basilica.

In my mind I can still hear the murmur of Masses being said at altar after altar, some with small congregations, others with a solitary priest. Eventually I was taken to one of the many side altars, and I began the celebration of the Mass, my first in Rome.

It was strangely comforting to hear the low hum of the other Masses proceeding, as I made my way through the liturgy. Everything seemed to be at a concentrated level as I began the Eucharistic prayer. At the consecration of the Host, when I genuflected, my eyes happened to catch the inscription on the front of the altar: S. Gregorius Magnus. It was overwhelming for me as I continued with the Mass, knowing that I was celebrating Holy Mass at the tomb of Pope St. Gregory, who had sent St. Augustine to England.

After Mass, as I made my way out of the basilica, reality returned with the work at hand. All of us serving on the special commission spent a brief time getting to know one another, and the discussions began. Although I threw myself into the work, and felt the excitement of participating in something historic, the recurring thought came to me that I would very much like to attend the upcoming Wednesday general audience with the Pope. It was a few days before that when I began to drop subtle hints, but the work was keeping us very busy. One of the kindly bishops also serving in the group knew what I was thinking, and he spoke to me during one of our breaks. He expressed his regret that our work would keep me occupied during the Wednesday audience, and then he said something which seemed rather mysterious. “On Thursday morning, if you will be in the Piazza San Pietro just to the right of the obelisk at 5:00 a.m., there will be a surprise for you,” he said.

I couldn’t imagine what he meant, but I was there by 4:00 a.m. because I could hardly sleep with the anticipation of this mystifying appointment I was keeping. It was still dark as I was saying the rosary, with the moon hanging over St. Peter’s Basilica, and when 5:00 a.m. came, I caught sight of a sliver of artificial light coming from an opening door off to my right. Being summoned to the open door by a guard, a most wonderful pilgrimage began at the bottom of a long flight of stairs.

I still was unaware of what was waiting for me – perhaps a glimpse of some great art treasure, I thought, or maybe a private visit to the basilica – whatever it was to be, it was still a mystery to me. We reached a landing on the staircase, and entered an elevator. The elevator went up a few floors and then stopped. When we exited, we were asked to turn to the right and go down another corridor. After walking several yards, I happened to glance to my left through some open doors. The mystery was solved.

There in front of me was the Holy Father’s private chapel. A familiar white-cassocked figure was kneeling before the altar, and the realization of where I was nearly took my breath away. After being escorted into the sacristy, I was told to vest for Mass. My mind was in a blur as I put on the vestments, and when I was ready I was taken to my place in the papal chapel, which was at a kneeler right next to the Holy Father himself.

There were only a few of us there – the Sisters who served in the papal household, a couple of priests, and a bishop. We spent a good deal of time in silent prayer before the Mass began, and at first I was distracted by the thought that I was kneeling immediately next to the Vicar of Christ. Soon, however, the Holy Spirit took over and I found that I was able to enter deeply into prayer. From time to time a deep sigh would come from the Holy Father, and I was reminded of St. Paul’s words to the Romans, when he wrote about “sighs too deep for words.”

After nearly a half-hour of prayer, it was time for the Mass to begin. The Pope’s vestments had been laid on the altar, and after he was vested we began the liturgy. I remained at my place during the Liturgy of the Word, but after the altar was prepared at the Offertory, I joined the Holy Father at the altar. At the time of Holy Communion, he held the paten from which I received a portion of the Host, and when he had received from the chalice he passed it to me. Certainly every time we receive Holy Communion it is a special encounter with God, but I must say that it was a unique experience for me to receive the Body and Blood of Christ while standing next to the Vicar of Christ, having concelebrated with him in his own chapel.

At the conclusion of the Mass, we spent a good amount of time in thanksgiving. It was once again my privilege to kneel next to the Holy Father for this, and I had much for which to be thankful – but there would be more.

Having been escorted to a reception room, there was now the opportunity to speak briefly with the Pope. When I was presented to him, he took my hands in his, and then made what could only be described as an extraordinary statement. “I know you,” he said to me. The puzzled look on my face, and my faltering question, “How, Holy Father…?” prompted him to continue. He went on to describe how my dossier had been given to him. Because mine was the first case of a married former Episcopal priest to be considered for the position of being the canonical pastor of a parish (rather than simply a parish administrator or chaplain) it was decided that such approval should be reserved to the Pope himself, rather than simply being processed through the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith as others were.

With my eyes widening, Pope John Paul II described to me how my dossier was placed on his desk. He then told me how he had some uncertainty about approving a married man as an actual pastor, so he placed the dossier in his desk drawer. He then got it out again, only to put it back in the drawer. “Finally,” he said, “I once more put it on my desk, and I prayed, and the Holy Spirit told me to say ‘yes’.”

Surely that must count as the most astonishing thing I had ever heard, that the Vicar of Christ was having a conversation about me with the Holy Spirit, Who then urged him to give his approval for my ordination and appointment as pastor of Our Lady of the Atonement Church. If I hadn’t heard the story from the lips of the Pope himself, I would never have believed such a thing.

When I regained my voice, I asked the Holy Father if I could take his blessing back to my family and to the people of the parish. He threw his arms around me and drew me close while he said, “With all of my heart, I bless you and your people!” And what a blessing that has been throughout the years.

After all this, it is hardly possible to imagine there would be more, but there was yet another “once in a life-time” experience that morning. The Pope called upon one of the priests in his household to take me to “the chapel.” This confused me, because we had just come from his private chapel; however, I dutifully followed the priest, and we went off in a completely different direction down a long corridor, until we came to a large set of doors. He unlocked them and directed me in, saying to me, “Take as long as you like. I’ll wait for you out here.” He then shut the doors and left me alone without telling me where I was. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim light, and as I looked around me I immediately knew where I was standing. I was in the Sistine Chapel.

The unexpected experience of being in a place so famous was, for a moment, disorienting. To look up at the magnificent ceiling (even though it was before the restoration), and to be able to explore the chapel all by myself, thinking about the papal elections which had taken place there, was overwhelming. I spent quite a bit of time taking it all in, offering thanks to God for such a blessed experience, and then I remembered the priest outside the door, patiently waiting for me.

He helped me find my way back to the stairs which I had climbed earlier that morning, and when I went through the doors leading into Piazza San Pietro, it was filled with the usual bustle of a day in Rome. It was all I could do to stop myself from rushing up to the first person I saw and asking him to guess where I’d just been! Instead, I headed across the Piazza to the office where we were working on the Book of Divine Worship, and I continued on the project which was the reason for my being there.

But I have to say, it had been quite a morning.

Pope St. John Paul II

Karol Josef Wojtyla was born in 1920 in Wadowice, Poland. His mother died when he was just a young boy, and he was raised by his father. Even as a boy he was known for his athletic ability, and in addition to his studies, he was active in all kinds of sports. As a young man, Karol worked as a laborer in factories and at a variety of physically demanding jobs. It was after the death of his father, in 1942, that he felt the call to ordination.

The Nazis had come to power, and seminaries were suppressed, but he studied in secret, and after the liberation of Poland by Russian forces in January of 1945 he was able to study openly at the University. He graduated with distinction, and was ordained on All Saints Day in 1946.

After his ordination to the priesthood and theological studies in Rome, he returned to his homeland and resumed various pastoral and academic tasks. He first became auxiliary bishop and then, in 1964, Archbishop of Krakow and took part in the Second Vatican Council. On 16 October 1978 he was elected pope and took the name John Paul II. His exceptional apostolic zeal, particularly for families, young people and the sick, led him to numerous pastoral visits throughout the world. Among the many fruits which he has left as a heritage to the Church are above all his rich teaching on the human person and the promulgation of the Catechism of the Catholic Church as well as the Code of Canon Law for the Latin Church and for the Eastern Churches.

In Rome on 2 April 2005, the eve of the Second Sunday of Easter (Divine Mercy Sunday), he departed peacefully after whispering "I have looked for you. Now you have come to me. And I thank you."

O God, who art rich in mercy and who didst will that Saint John Paul the Second should preside as Pope over thy universal Church: grant, we pray; that instructed by his teaching, we may open our hearts to the saving grace of Christ, the sole Redeemer of mankind; who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.