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.

"Are You Able...?"

 

James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came forward to Jesus, and said to him, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” And he said to them, “What do you want me to do for you?” And they said to him, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” But Jesus said to them, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or to be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?” And they said to him, “We are able.”

St. Mark 10:35-39a

In this passage from St. Mark's Gospel there is an interesting and important exchange between our Lord Jesus Christ and two of His Apostles, James and John, the sons of Zebedee. The brothers go to our Lord with a request. Apparently they weren’t shy, because it was a pretty big request, and it was this: that in the glorious kingdom to come they wanted the two seats on either side of Him to be theirs.

Our Lord doesn’t attempt to correct their obvious misunderstanding of the Kingdom – they were picturing an earthly kingdom, and they certainly needed correcting – but Christ has other things to teach at that moment. Look first at how our Lord answers them: He doesn’t grant their request, but neither does He refuse their request. Instead, He simply tells them, “You do not know what you are asking.” And they didn’t know. They had no idea of the nature or the character of Christ’s kingdom. They didn’t realise that what they thought of as the advantage, the honour, the glory, the reward that they were seeking for having “given up everything” would only take them further from Christ, not closer to Him.

Jesus had told them what they didn’t yet realize or understand - that they were going up to Jerusalem, that He would be betrayed and condemned to death; that He would be mocked, scourged, spat upon, crucified, but that the third day He would rise from the dead. His kingdom here was to be a kingdom of suffering; His earthly throne was going to be a cross; His earthly crown was going to be a crown of thorns; His earthly sceptre was going to be that reed given in mockery; His royal robe was going to be the purple robe thrown at Him by scornful soldiers.

It becomes obvious then, if all that was to be the glory of the King, then the seats at His right hand and His left were going to mean suffering and sorrow and hardship. He must be crucified before He would be glorified. But these brothers, James and John, were, in a sense, seeking to be glorified before they were crucified. When Jesus said, “You do not know what you are asking...” it was all of that which was behind His words.

But even that was not the whole of Christ’s answer. He doesn’t reject the request. He doesn’t scold them, or put them off. He knows that they have a noble ambition in wanting to be near Him; they had an enthusiastic longing to reign with Him; they show love for Him in their desire to sit on His right hand and on His left in His kingdom. But their desire needed purifying, it needed sifting, it needed raising up; there was, at this point, too much selfishness in it.

And so our Lord does here just what He so often did: He answered their request with a question. And so the Saviour puts it to them, “Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or to be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?” What a searching question it is! And look at their answer - an answer which had no surprise or hesitation: “We are able.” And with that, the Lord accepts this expression of faith, and their declaration of self-surrender. He doesn’t promise that which they first asked for – that’s left unanswered. But He does promise a participation in the work of His own manhood, a share in His own sufferings, without which it would be impossible to have the glory they wanted. “The chalice that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized...” And His answer must have burnt itself into their very souls. How they must have learned more and more of its meaning as time went on. How it must have given St. James courage to win his martyr’s crown as the first of the Apostles to die for the Faith; how it must have strengthened St. John to bear the long-drawn-out sufferings of his life as he gave constant and eloquent witness to Jesus Christ.

And as they learned from Christ, so there are great lessons for us. We learn that heaven is not to be won simply by wishing for it. No, heaven will be ours by an earnest, energetic striving to follow in Christ’s footsteps. In answer to every desire for heaven, Jesus Christ calls us to venture out in faith, and He will give us the strength to go forward. The whole Christian life is to be based on this principle. The baptismal covenant, the renewal of our baptismal vows at confirmation, every prayer uttered, every good resolution made, every Holy Communion received, is in reality our echo of James and John: “We are able,” because the question to them is the question to us: “Are you able to drink the chalice that I drink, or to be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?”

But our answer, even the answer “We are able,” can be made in different ways. It can be made carelessly and thoughtlessly, under-rating the difficulties of serving Christ, underestimating the magnitude of the question. There’s a danger there. Remember that the struggle is not an easy one. The chalice can be bitter; the baptism can be fiery; the difficulties are great; the devil is very subtle; the world is very attractive; and we can be very weak in the face of temptation. We must face the fact that Christ’s service is hard. Or, the question can be answered in a boastful way - not so much by underestimating the difficulty of following Christ, as much as it is the tendency to overrate our own power to do it. Remember that the very foundation of true strength is the knowledge of our own weakness. It is Christ, and Him alone, who is our strength.

As St. James went to his martyrdom confessing Christ, there’s no doubt that he remembered this scene we hear of in the Gospel. It must have risen up in his mind. The Saviour’s look and tone of voice must have come back to him; he no doubt remembered with what tenderness our Lord asked, “Are you able...?” And he must have remembered the enthusiasm with which he answered, with his brother John, “We are able...” And he knew that, God helping him, he was able, and he went on to win his crown.

And so it is with us. We are bound to believe and to do what was promised for us at our baptism; we are bound to believe and to do what is demanded by the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. There is power in making the venture of faith, when we make it in firm dependence on the certain help of Almighty God. And so, we are to meet every difficulty in this spirit: “I have said that I am able to endure it, and by God’s help so I will.” We are to meet every sorrow in this spirit: “I have said that I am able to bear it, and by God’s help so I will.” Meet every duty in this spirit: “I have said I am able to do it, and by God’s help so I will.” And so, remaining steadfast to the end, may we discharge our bounden duty before God faithfully and boldly and bravely, not asking what our reward will be, but being satisfied with the wondrous and glorious promises of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has prepared a place for us.

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Image: Saint Jacques et Saint Jean, apôtres, fils dé Zebédée.

c.1501-1533, Musée Des Pèlerinages, Santiago

Holy Mass According to the Book of Divine Worship

You might enjoy this glimpse into the past through a video of an Anglican Use Mass recorded twenty years ago. This is from the old Book of Divine Worship, the predecessor of the Ordinariate's Divine Worship.

Bl. Jerzy Popieluszko, Priest and Martyr

Blessed Jerzy Popieluszko was born September 14, 1947, on a farm in the small village of Okopy located in North Eastern Poland. His parents Wladyslaw and Mariana were devout Catholics and he was baptized Alphons Popieluszko two days after his birth. Blessed Jerzy was a fragile child but as his parents stated he made up for any physical infirmities in strength of character.

The country into which Blessed Jerzy was born was one suffering from the aftermath of the reign of terror by the Nazis and the ongoing persecution of the Church by the Communists since the country’s occupation by the Russians in the Second World War. Okopy, the geographical center or “heart” of Poland was a rural village and thus its school system was not as deeply infiltrated with the sociology of the communist regime, but nevertheless Bl Jerzy suffered for his Faith while yet in school. Each morning before classes began Bl Jerzy would walk three miles to serve Mass, and then after classes were over in the evening, would return to the Church to pray the Rosary. His spirituality was ridiculed and he was accused by his teacher of praying too much.

As a precaution due to the harassment he received Bl Jerzy kept secret his intention to join the seminary for fear that if it were known the results of his exams would be altered. After graduating high school in 1965 while his friends were at the school ball, Blessed Jerzy Popieluszko was on a train headed for the seminary in Warsaw. He had chosen Warsaw due to its closeness to the monastery of St Maximilian Kolbe, a favorite saint of Bl Jerzy. Although against the agreement of 1950 between the Church and State, after one year of seminary training Bl Jerzy was drafted into the military for a two year tour in a special unit for clerics in Bartoszyce.

The plan for drafting clerics into the service was to indoctrinate them with the communistic ideal and cause them to lose their vocation. In spite of bitter persecution ensuing from the practice of his Faith, Blessed Jerzy Popieluszko firmly defied the authority’s attempt to marginalize Catholicism. On one occasion, when Bl Jerzy refused to crush his rosary beneath his heel he was cruelly beaten and placed in solitary confinement for a month. Also on account of his refusal to remove a medal from about his neck he was forced to stand for hours in the freezing rain. He was also made to crawl around the camp on his hands and knees as a punishment for saying the rosary. The results of this barbarity were that on the completion of his two year tour, Bl Jerzy had to undergo a life threatening surgery to undo the damage done to his heart and kidneys from his beatings. The recovery caused his ordination to be delayed, but on May 28, 1972, he was ordained with his name changed from Alphons to Jerzy by Cardinal Wyszynski.

Blessed Jerzy Popieluszko was first stationed taking care of several small parishes where his work was greatly appreciated. In January of 1979 he collapsed while saying Mass, and was sent to stay in a hospital to recover. Afterwards, he was given the duty as chaplain for the medical University of St Ann in Warsaw. A year later he was transferred to his last parish, St Stanislaus Kostka in Warsaw.

When Solidarity met in the Lenin shipyard in the summer of 1980, Bl Jerzy was the chaplain sent to the striking workers. The success of Solidarity helped to inspire Bl Jerzy, and every month afterwards he would offer a Mass for the Homeland and give a sermon to inspire people to follow the maxims of the Gospel, primarily by abandoning violence. Bl Jersey also organized a relief effort to help the families suffering from the loss of their jobs and livelihood as a result of defending the Faith, or the government having declared martial law. The government grew more and more frustrated with Bl Jerzy as more and more people flocked to him, and at the monthly Mass for the homeland had guards stationed at every block corner to watch him. Bl Jerzy went out of his way to be kind to these guards, calling them his “Guardian Angels” and even bringing them coffee in the cold Polish winter.

On December 13, 1982, a bomb was left on Bl Jerzy’s doorstep which would have killed him if he had answered the door. The next year, in August of 1983, the police opened a formal case against him and in December he was summoned to the prosecutor’s office. While detained, the police broke into his house to fill it with explosives and anti-government propaganda so they could have a cause to arrest him and launch a slur campaign.

While imprisoned with hardened criminals, Blessed Jerzy Popieluszko stayed up all night speaking with a murderer, and finally hearing the man’s confession. After being released from prison, Bl Jerzy was interrogated 13 times between January and June of 1984. In September he was planning his annual pilgrimage to Jasna Gora when he received threats warning him, “If you go to Jasna Gora you are dead.”

On October 13, 1984, an attempt was made on his life by means of a staged car accident, though Bl Jerzy was saved due to his excellent driving ability. On October 19, 1984, after offering Mass in Bydgoszcz, Bl Jerzy left with his driver for the 161 mile return trip to Warsaw. Thirty minutes into the drive the car was flagged down by two uniformed men for a traffic check near the village of Tourn. The uniformed men were actually officers of the security service and, on asking Waldemar Chrostowski, the driver, to hand over the keys to the car, handcuffed him and forced him into the back seat of their vehicle at gunpoint. Bl Jerzy was then grabbed and brutally beaten senseless with fists and clubs and thrown into the trunk of the car, which then sped off.

A few miles later Waldemar Chrostowski managed to escape the car and ran to the local Church to alert the authorities. Meanwhile, the two officers stopped the car to fasten down the trunk and gag Bl Jerzy, who was shouting and had almost managed to pry open the trunk. Bl Jerzy momentarily escaped them and ran into the woods, but was soon recaptured and beaten so savagely that his face and hands were unrecognizable. He was then driven to a reservoir on the Vistula River. Bl Jerzy’s hands and feet were tied with a noose fastened around his neck so that if he straightened his legs it would suffocate him. His mouth was stuffed with cloth, blocking the airway, and his nose was closed with sticking plaster. Finally, having tied a bag of rocks to his feet, they threw him into the reservoir.

The body of Bl Jerzy was not discovered until ten days had passed, and his funeral was held on November 2. An autopsy revealed that he may have still been alive when thrown into the reservoir.

The cause for his beatification began in 1997 and in 2008 Blessed Jerzy Popieluszko was elevated to the status of Servant of God. On December 19, 2009, Pope Benedict signed the decree recognizing the martyrdom of Bl Jerzy Popieluzko. On August 6th, 2010, in the presence of his mother, who was over 100 years old, Bl Jerzy was solemnly beatified. The last public words spoke by Blessed Jerzy Popieluzko during the meditation on the rosary October 19, 1984, give a summary of his life and may serve as a guiding star in ours:

“In order to defeat evil with good, in order to preserve the dignity of man, one must not use violence. It is the person who has failed to win on the strength of his heart and his reason, who tries to win by force…Let us pray that we be free from fear and intimidation, but above all from the lusts for revenge and violence.”

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From: https://www.roman-catholic-saints.com

Ss. Jean Brébeuf, Isaac Jogues, and Companions

There are eight men whom we know as the Martyrs of North America (known also as the Canadian Martyrs), and they worked in the area of upstate New York and neighbouring Canada. St. Jean Brébeuf, St. Isaac Jogues and their companions were the first martyrs of the North American continent officially recognized by the Church. Isaac Jogues was a man of learning and culture, and he taught literature in France. He gave up that career to work amongst the Huron Indians in the New World, and in 1636 he and his companions, under the leadership of St. John de Brébeuf, arrived in Quebec.

The Hurons were constantly being attacked by the Iroquois, and in a few years Father Jogues was captured by the Iroquois and imprisoned for 13 months. His letters and journals tell how he and his companions were led from village to village, how they were beaten, tortured and forced to watch as their Huron converts were mangled and killed.

An unexpected chance for escape came to Isaac Jogues through the Dutch, and he returned to France, bearing the marks of his sufferings. Several fingers had been cut, chewed or burnt off. Pope Urban VIII gave him permission to offer Mass with his mutilated hands, saying "It would be shameful that a martyr of Christ be not allowed to drink the Blood of Christ." Welcomed home as a hero, Father Jogues could have retired, thanked God for his safe return, and died peacefully in his homeland. But his zeal led him back once more to the fulfillment of his vocation to this missionary work. In a few months he sailed for his missions among the Hurons.

In 1646 he and Jean de Lalande, who had offered his services to the missioners, set out for Iroquois country, thinking that a recently signed peace treaty would be observed. They were captured by a Mohawk war party, and on October 18 Father Jogues was tomahawked and beheaded. Jean de Lalande was killed the next day at a village near Albany, New York.

The first of the Jesuit missionaries to be martyred was René Goupil who, with Lalande, had offered his services as an oblate. He was tortured along with Isaac Jogues in 1642, and was tomahawked for having made the Sign of the Cross on the brow of some children.

Jean de Brébeuf was a French Jesuit who came to Canada at the age of 32 and laboured there for 24 years. He went back to France when the English captured Quebec (1629) and expelled the Jesuits, but returned to his missions four years later. Although medicine men blamed the Jesuits for a smallpox epidemic among the Hurons, Jean remained with them. He composed catechisms and a dictionary in Huron, and saw 7,000 converted before his death. He was captured by the Iroquois and died after four hours of extreme torture.

Father Anthony Daniel, Brother Gabriel Lalemant, Father Charles Garnier, and Father Noel Chabanel, were tortured and killed at different times, but all for the same reason – their love for God, their love for the Indians as God’s children, and their desire to bring them the love of God through life in the Church.

O God, who amongst the peoples of North America didst hallow the first-fruits of the Faith both in the preaching and in the blood of many holy Martyrs: graciously grant by the intercession of Saints Jean de Brébeuf, Isaac Jogues and Companions; that everywhere from day to day the harvest of souls may abound to the increase of thy faithful people; 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. Luke, Evangelist

St. Luke is the writer of the Gospel and the Acts of the Apostles, and was referred to by St. Paul as "our beloved physician.” We know a few other facts about Luke's life from Scripture and from early Church historians.

Luke was most likely born a Greek Gentile. In his writings we can see an emphasis on Gentiles, and on the fact that Jesus came for Jew and Gentile alike. It is only in his Gospel that we hear the parable of the Good Samaritan, that we hear Jesus praising the faith of Gentiles such as the widow of Zarephath and Naaman the Syrian, and that we hear the story of the one grateful leper who is a Samaritan.

It is likely that Luke had been born as a slave, and later was able to secure his freedom. It was very common for families to educate slaves in medicine so that they would have a resident family physician.

In the Acts of the Apostles we see that St. Luke was very often a companion to St. Paul in the missionary journeys, and in Acts he uses language from time to time which says “We did so and so,” indicating that he was there. Luke was a loyal friend who stayed with St. Paul when he was imprisoned in Rome. After everyone else had deserted Paul in his final imprisonment and sufferings, it was Luke who remained with Paul to the end: "Only Luke is with me" (2 Timothy 4:11).

St. Luke's inspiration and information for his Gospel and Acts came from his close association with St. Paul. St. Luke also had a special connection with the Blessed Virgin Mary, and there are many things in his Gospel that could have come only through conversations with her. For instance, it is only in Luke's Gospel that we hear the story of the Annunciation, of Mary's visit to Elizabeth including the Magnificat, of the Presentation in the Temple, and the story of Jesus' disappearance in Jerusalem. It is in Luke’s Gospel that we hear the Scriptural parts of the Hail Mary: "Hail, full of grace," which was spoken at the Annunciation, and "Blessed are art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb," which was spoken by her cousin Elizabeth – all recorded by St. Luke.

Forgiveness and God's mercy to sinners – Jew and Gentile alike – is the theme that runs through Luke’s Gospel. It is only from St. Luke that we hear the story of the Prodigal Son welcomed back by the overjoyed father. Only in Luke do we hear the story of the forgiven woman disrupting the feast by washing Jesus' feet with her tears. Throughout Luke's Gospel, we see Jesus welcoming those who seek God's mercy.

He is often shown with an ox or a calf because these are the symbols of sacrifice -- the sacrifice Jesus made for all the world. St. Luke is the patron of physicians and surgeons.

Almighty God, who didst call Saint Luke, whose praise is in the Gospel, to be an Evangelist and physician of the soul: may it please thee; that, by the wholesome medicines of the doctrine delivered by him, all the diseases of our souls may be healed; through the merits of 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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Pictured: "St. Luke" by Master Theodoric (14th cent)

painted on the upper section of wall in the

Chapel of the Holy Cross in Karlštejn Castle near Prague.