Remember and pray...

 

World Trade Center, 9/11

O God, whose mercies cannot be numbered: Accept our prayers on behalf of thy servants departed, and grant them an entrance into the land of light and joy, in the fellowship of thy saints; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Pentagon, 9/11

For none of us liveth to himself,

and no man dieth to himself.

For if we live, we live unto the Lord,

and if we die, we die unto the Lord.

Whether we live, therefore, or die,

we are the Lord's.

Shanksville, Pennsylvania, 9/11

Thou only art immortal, the creator and maker of mankind; and we are mortal, formed of the earth, and unto earth shall we return. For so thou didst ordain when thou createdst me, saying, "Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return." All we go down to the dust; yet even at the grave we make our song: Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.

May she rest in peace, and rise in glory...

O GOD, who desirest not the death of a sinner but rather that all mankind should be saved: we beseech thee mercifully to grant that thy handmaid ELIZABETH, who has passed from this world, may by the intercession of Blessed Mary ever-Virgin and of all thy Saints come to enjoy with them everlasting blessedness; 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. Peter Claver

A native of Spain, the young Jesuit priest Peter Claver left his homeland forever in 1610 to be a missionary in the colonies of the New World. He sailed into what is now Colombia, and he was ordained there in 1615.

By this time the slave trade had been established in the Americas for nearly 100 years, and Cartagena was a chief center for it. Ten thousand slaves poured into the port each year after crossing the Atlantic from West Africa under conditions so foul and inhuman that an estimated one-third of the passengers died in transit. Although the practice of slave-trading was condemned by Pope Paul III and later labeled "supreme villainy" by Pius IX, it continued to flourish.

Fr. Peter Claver's predecessor, Jesuit Father Alfonso de Sandoval, had devoted himself to the service of the slaves for 40 years before Fr. Claver arrived to continue his work, declaring himself "the slave of the Negroes forever."

As soon as a slave ship entered the port, Peter Claver moved into its infested hold to minister to the ill-treated and exhausted passengers. After the slaves were herded out of the ship like chained animals and shut up in nearby yards to be gazed at by the crowds, the young priest plunged in among them with medicines, food, bread, brandy, lemons and tobacco. With the help of interpreters he gave basic instructions and assured his brothers and sisters of their human dignity and God's saving love. During the 40 years of his ministry, he instructed and baptized an estimated 300,000 slaves.

His apostolate extended beyond his care for slaves. He preached in the city square, gave missions to sailors and traders as well as country missions, during which he avoided, when possible, the hospitality of the planters and owners and lodged in the slave quarters instead. 

After four years of sickness which forced the saint to remain inactive and largely neglected, he died on September 8, 1654. The city magistrates, who had previously frowned at his kindness toward the slaves, ordered that he should be buried at public expense and with great pomp.

He was canonized in 1888, and Pope Leo XIII declared him the worldwide patron of missionary work among those who are in slavery or any kind of forced servitude.

O God, who madest Saint Peter Claver a slave of slaves, and strengthened him with wonderful charity and patience as he came to their help: grant, through his intercession; that, seeking the things of Christ, we may love our neighbour in deeds and in truth; 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.

The Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary

"The day of the Nativity of the Mother of God is a day of universal joy, because through the Mother of God, the entire human race was renewed, and the sorrow of the first mother, Eve, was transformed into joy." - St. John Damascene

The birth of the Blessed Virgin Mary has been celebrated as a liturgical feast at least from the sixth century. Its origin can be traced to the occasion of the consecration of a church in Jerusalem just inside St. Stephen’s Gate, near the Pool of Bethesda, on the traditional site of the house of Ss. Joachim and Anne. Within a few years the liturgy was celebrated in Rome, having been introduced by monks from the East, and the celebration included a procession to the Basilica of St. Mary Major.

Although the actual date of Mary’s birth isn’t known, the Church settled on September 8th, and the celebration of the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception was fixed on December 8th, as the date corresponding to nine months before the celebration of her Nativity.

These two feasts can be seen as a kind of bridge between the Old Testament and the New Testament. With the conception and birth of the Blessed Virgin, God completed the new Ark – the living Temple – in which He would dwell. Through Mary, Jesus the Incarnate God has come to us.

O Lord, we beseech thee, bestow on thy servants the gift of heavenly grace: that as our redemption began to dawn in the child-bearing of the Blessed Virgin Mary; so this festival of her Nativity may yield us an increase of peace; 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. Teresa of Calcutta

On August 26, 1910 a baby girl was born to a couple of Albanian heritage in Skopje, Macedonia. She was baptized with the name of Agnes, and she grew up in a loving and devoutly Catholic household. When she was eight years old, her father died, leaving her mother with the responsibility of supporting the family, which she did by opening a shop which dealt in embroidery and fabric.

Young Agnes helped her mother, and was also deeply involved in the life of their parish church, but when she was eighteen she felt the call to religious life. She left home in September of 1928, travelling to Dublin, Ireland, where she was admitted as a postulant at the Loreto Convent. It was there that she received the religious name of Teresa, after her patroness, St. Terese of Lisieux, and she was known as Sr. Mary Teresa.

After her postulancy in Ireland, Sr. Teresa was sent to India, where she was to spend her novitiate. She arrived in Calcutta on the Feast of the Epiphany, 1929, and went immediately into the Loreto convent in Darjeeling. It was on May 24, 1937, that she professed her final vows, and during the 1930’s and 1940’s she taught at a Catholic girls’ school in Calcutta, and came to be known as Mother Teresa.

It was on September 10, 1946 that she was on the train going from Calcutta to Darjeeling. As she later recalled it, it was during that journey that she was given what she termed a “call within a call.” This was when she received the inspiration which would lead to the founding of the Missionaries of Charity. Within her call to religious life she felt the call to establish a new religious institute which would have as its mission, “to quench the infinite thirst of Jesus on the cross for love of souls,” and this would be accomplished by “laboring for the salvation and sanctification of the poorest of the poor.” This came to fruition on October 7, 1950, when the new congregation of the Missionaries of charity was erected as a religious institute for the Archdiocese of Calcutta.

Her work had begun in a small way. She washed the sores of sick children; she nursed a woman dying of starvation and tuberculosis; she cared for a homeless man who was without any family, and near death. One by one, some of her former students joined her in the work. Their day would begin with Mass and Holy Communion, and then they would set out on the streets of Calcutta – they were recognizable by their white saris with blue borders – and they had the purpose of caring for the “poorest of the poor,” who had no one to care for them. They searched them out as though searching for Jesus Himself.

Throughout the 1950’s and into the 1960’s the work expanded, as did the number of those joining the Missionaries of Charity. They worked not only in Calcutta, but throughout India. Then, in 1965, Pope Paul VI raised the congregation from an archdiocesan institute to one of pontifical right, and they began to spread throughout the world, going first to Venezuela, then into Europe and Africa, eventually opening houses in Australia, the Middle East, and North America.

In 1979 Mother Teresa was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, and by that time there were 158 Missionaries of Charity foundations throughout the world, and its growth continued, until by 1997 there were nearly 4,000 Sisters in 600 foundations, in 123 countries of the world. In the summer of 1997, after an extensive trip to visit her sisters in Rome, New York, and Washington, Mother Teresa’s health was failing. She returned to Calcutta, and on September 5, 1997, she died at the Motherhouse, very near the Loreto convent where she had arrived some sixty-nine years earlier.

At her death she was mourned throughout the world. Hundreds of thousands came to Calcutta to pray and pay their respect to this remarkable woman. She was given a state funeral, and her body was taken in procession throughout the streets of Calcutta, where she herself had searched out the “poorest of the poor.” After only two years, in recognition of her sanctity, special permission was given to open her cause.  She was beatified on October 19, 2003 and was canonized on September 4, 2016. In speaking of her, St. John Paul II called her “an icon of the Good Samaritan.”

O God, whose blessed Son became poor that we through his poverty might be rich: Deliver us, we pray thee, from an inordinate love of this world, that, inspired by the devotion of thy servant, Saint Teresa of Calcutta, we may serve thee with singleness of heart, and attain to the riches of the age to come; through the same thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever.

Labor Day

Labor Day, observed each year on the first Monday in September, has become synonymous with barbeques and bargains, and for most of us it marks the end of summer. It was instituted originally as a day to honour workers, and it has in the past featured the place of organized labour in our society. Labor unions have had an up-and-down place in the history of our nation, but whatever one's view of unions, nonetheless it is a good thing to honour workers and their labour.

The patron saint of labourers is St. Joseph the Worker. The actual commemoration of this title falls on the first day of May, but it is appropriate to remember him on Labor Day too, as a way of accentuating the dignity of labour and as a reminder of the spiritual dimension of work.

The teaching of the Church reaches back into the Old Testament, when we read in the Book of Genesis that God created man, and put him in the Garden of Eden to tend to it. From that time, God, who is the creator and ruler of the universe, has called men and women in every age to develop and use their talents for the good of others, and as a way of sharing in the creative work of God. In every kind of labour we are to remember that we are obeying the command of God to use our talents, and to receive the fruit of our labours. Our work allows us to provide for our own needs, and for the needs of those for whom we are responsible. It also allows us to show proper charity toward those who are in need.

As we celebrate Labor Day, we should look to St. Joseph and follow his example of work, by which he showed his love and responsibility for the Blessed Virgin Mary and for the Child Jesus. St. Joseph shows the dignity of work – and whether it is manual work, or any other kind of work, we are to do it in a spirit of cooperation with God, and as an offering to Him. Any task, well done, is an offering to God. When we work, we should see it as a work done for God, and it is part of what shows that we are created in His image. In creation itself, God worked for six days, and rested the seventh. So in our own lives, we are to keep that balance between using our energy for work, and then out of respect for our minds and bodies, give a day for our spiritual and physical renewal.

O LORD Jesus Christ, who in thy earthly life didst share man’s toil, and thereby hallow the labour of his hands: prosper all those who maintain the industries of this land; and give them pride in their work, a just reward for their labour, and joy both in supplying the needs of others and in serving thee their Saviour; who with the Father and the Holy Spirit livest and reignest, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

________________________________

Painting: "Christ in St. Joseph's Workshop"

by Matteo Pagano (1515-1588)

Trinity XII: Discipleship

“What man can learn the counsel of God? Or who can discern what the Lord wills?”

- Wisdom 9:13

“I appeal to you for my child, Onesimus, whose father I have become in my imprisonment. I am sending him back to you, sending my very heart.”

- Philemon vv.10, 12

“If any one comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me, cannot be my disciple.”

- St. Luke 14:26,27

When we first hear today’s three Scripture readings a common thread is not immediately evident, but upon a closer consideration we can find a unity in them which speaks to us about Christian perfection, about real Christian discipleship.

We begin with a basic truth – a first step in our Christian life – which we hear in the book of Wisdom: “What man can learn the counsel of God? Or who can discern what the Lord wills?” Even though human knowledge is increasing rapidly we must constantly be reminded that we do not know everything, nor can we ever know everything. There are some things beyond our capacity to know – there are things of God that we will never fully understand in this life. Man’s problem is that he often confuses the difference between “knowledge” and “wisdom.” Our approach to God must have a sense of proportion and humility, knowing that there is far more about the things of God and about His creation than we can ever know.

That leads to the second reading, which is a portion of a very brief letter from St. Paul written to a Christian named Philemon. Philemon had a slave by the name of Onesimus. Onesimus had run away, and had gone to Paul, who had originally taught Onesimus the Christian faith. Paul was in prison at this time, and Onesimus wanted to stay with Paul to serve him in his imprisonment, and Paul had become quite fond of this runaway slave. But after some qualms of conscience, Paul and Onesimus decided that Onesimus should return to his master. So Paul writes a letter for Onesimus to take back to Philemon, and it is a letter which is shot through and through with the very question we heard in Wisdom, “What man can learn the counsel of God?” The civil law was on the side of Philemon – after all, according to the law in that time and place Onesimus was his property. But St. Paul puts it to Philemon in such a way as to say that the escape of Onesimus was really part of the mysterious plan of God. Paul writes, “Perhaps this is why he was parted from you for a while, that you might have him back forever, no longer as a slave, but more than a slave, as a beloved brother…” In other words, “God’s ways are not necessarily our ways.” If we do not understand something at first, it may well be part of the wisdom of God, which must not be ignored. If we needed further proof, history indicates to us that this Onesimus may well have become the Bishop of Ephesus some years after the writing of this letter, showing us the unexpected wisdom of God: that a slave should become the spiritual superior of the man who had once owned him!

And that brings us to the portion of the Gospel appointed for this day. The previous readings have led us on to its message, by telling us first that God’s wisdom is higher than our wisdom; and second, as in the case of Onesimus, God can turn things upside down in order to accomplish His purposes. And we now get to the crux of the message: namely, what it is to be a disciple of Christ, and what this discipleship involves. The bottom line, according to Christ, is this: “Whosoever of you does not renounce all that he has, cannot be my disciple.” And our Lord uses some difficult words to make this point: “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple…”

How unexpected, that Christ should call us to “hate” in order to follow Him! But we need to understand that what is translated as “hate” comes from an Aramaic word which means “to love less” – a much different meaning than our English word “hate.” In other words, Christ’s disciples are to love their families and themselves less than they love their duty to Christ. Or, to turn it around, our Lord demands a primary and undivided allegiance, and no one can be given precedence over Him in our lives.

Now certainly, Christ was not despising natural family ties – He instituted the Sacrament of marriage; He blessed little children; He taught us to call God “Our Father;” at His death he gave His own mother into the care of the beloved disciple. Certainly, He highly valued those relationships. And yet, He requires an immediate and unqualified loyalty to Himself first. And why? Because He is the Divine Incarnate Word, the Second Person of the Holy Trinity; He is God Himself – and we can have no love, no affection, no loyalty, which is greater than that which we are to have for God.

Christ says also that if we would be His disciple, each one must “carry his own cross” and come after Him. Each one of us has a cross – a requirement from God – which has been fitted for us individually, and it means we must put aside our own sense of what we think is important, so that we can find the will of Christ. The meaning is clear: the peace which comes from doing the will of God is the only real peace we can ever have – it passes our understanding. As we willingly carry the cross given to us, it means that we “die to ourselves” – it is like a seed that has to die so that the plant can grow and flower and bear fruit. That is how we seek and find God’s Kingdom. We will not grow beautiful roses if instead we plant weeds. We will not know the goodness and abundance of the fruits of God’s Kingdom it we plant only the seeds of our own selfish and conceited ideas.

The God who does the unexpected; whose wisdom cannot be fathomed; who calls a slave to be a bishop in His Church – will not be satisfied with half-hearted disciples. We cannot simply be “along for the ride.” If we are not standing totally with Him, then we might find ourselves standing against Him. Our vocation is to serve Christ, and that means we look for His Will, and follow that Will, because it is in our obedience to Him that we find true happiness, and the holiness to which we are called.

_____________________________________

Painting: "Christ Appearing to His Disciples"

by Duccio di Buoninsegna (c.1255-1260-c.1318-1319)

Pope St. Gregory the Great

St. Gregory, known as "the Great," served the Church as Supreme Pontiff from 590 until 604. Before this he had served the city of Rome as a senator and prefect, all by the age of thirty. He then dedicated himself to God by entering religious life as a Benedictine monk. It was during his time as abbot that a well-known incident took place.In about the year 573 A.D. the abbot Gregory, during a walk through the marketplace, saw some fair-skinned people being sold as slaves. When he asked about them he was told they were Angles. He responded, “Non Angli, sed angeli” (“Not Angles, but angels!”).  

After he became the pope he decided he needed to send missionaries to their people, to bring them the knowledge of the Gospel. England had once known the faith, but the Angles and the Saxons had conquered the land and had driven the Christians out. But now the time had come to re-evangelize, and St. Gregory chose St. Augustine and thirty monks to make the unexpected and dangerous trip to England. Augustine and his monks had the task of finding what few Christians there were and bringing them back into the fullness of the Faith, and to convince the war-loving conquerors to become Christians themselves.

Pope St. Gregory also had a tremendous influence on the liturgical and musical life of the Church, and in an ancient account it says, “St. Gregory established at Rome two schools of song, that one beside the church of S. Peter, and that other by the church of S. John Lateran, where the place is yet, where he taught the scholars, and the rod with which he menaced them is yet there.”

Pope St. Gregory well-deserves to be called “the Great,” not just for his re-evangelization of England, but for his liturgical, musical, and spiritual influence upon the whole of the Western Church.

O God, the strength of them that put their trust in thee, who didst stablish thy blessed Confessor and Bishop Saint Gregory with the strength of constancy to defend the freedom of thy Church: grant, we pray thee, that by his prayers and good example, we may manfully conquer all things contrary to our salvation; 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.

_____________________________

Painting: "St. Gregory the Great, Pope" 

by Francisco José de Goya (1746–1828)

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

________________________________

Painting: "Madonna dell'Ulivo"

by Nicolo Barabino (1832-1891)

St Aidan, Bishop, and the Saints of Lindisfarne

The Holy Island of Lindisfarne has a recorded history from the 6th century AD. It was an important center of Christianity not only under St. Aidan of Lindisfarne, but also is known for its association with St. Finan, St. Eata, St. Colman, and St. Cuthbert, Northumberland's patron saint. Notable saints who were students at Lindisfarne include St. Chad, St. Cedd, and St. Wilfrid.

St. Aidan studied under St. Senan, one of the great Irish monk-saints, and he became a monk at Iona in about the year 630. His obvious virtues caused him to be selected as first Bishop of Lindisfarne in 635.

Lindisfarne is an island of about one thousand acres, and is off the northeast coast of England. It served as a home base for the evangelizing of the mainland, and in time St. Aidan became known as the "apostle of Northumbria," because the king of Northumbria, Oswald, asked him to come and spread the Christian faith among the people. St. Bede spoke highly of the spiritual care given by St. Aidan to his people. King Oswald had studied in Ireland and because of their common spiritual heritage he eventually became a close friend of St. Aidan, supporting him in his work to the end of his life.

St. Aidan died at Bamborough on 31 August 651, and his remains were taken to Lindisfarne. St. Bede writes that "he was a pontiff inspired with a passionate love of virtue, but at the same time full of a surpassing mildness and gentleness."

O Everlasting God, who didst send thy gentle Bishop Aidan to proclaim the Gospel in Britain: grant that, aided by his prayers, we may live after his teaching in simplicity, humility, and love for the poor; 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.

Ss. Margaret Clitherow, Anne Line, and Margaret Ward, Martyrs

The three martyrs we commemorate on August 30th are numbered amongst the Forty Martyrs of England and Wales, who suffered death for the Catholic faith which had been outlawed in the kingdom. These three women – St. Margaret Clitherow, St. Anne Line, and St. Margaret Ward – were all martyred because they protected Catholic priests from the Elizabethan authorities, who were seeking out all Catholic priests for execution. During this dark time in history, it was illegal for priests to be in the country, as it was illegal for Catholics to receive the Sacraments of the Catholic Church.

ST. MARGARET CLITHEROW was a convert to the faith. She became a Catholic when she was eighteen. Although her husband was not a Catholic, he supported her in the practice of her faith, along with their son Henry, who was studying for the priesthood. Margaret’s husband even went so far all to allow her to welcome priests into their home for the celebration of Mass, and 1586 she was arrested for giving shelter to a priest. She was condemned to the horrifying death of being slowly crushed to death, being made to lay upon a sharp stone with a door placed upon her while nearly eight hundred pounds of stone were gradually added on top of the door. This took place on Good Friday in 1586. She died with the name of Jesus upon her lips.

ST. ANNE LINE was also a convert, and was completely disowned by her family. In 1586 she married a man who was also a convert to the faith, but who was soon exiled from the country, leaving Anne by herself. She eventually managed two “safe houses” where travelling priests could hide, but was arrested on February 2, 1601, when she assisted a priest in escaping arrest. When she was brought to court, she fully admitted what she had done, and told the judge that her only regret was that she had not helped more priests. St. Anne Line was hanged in London, and before her death she repeated what she had said in court, stating clearly that she did not repent for her actions, but that she wished she could have done it a thousand times.

ST. MARGARET WARD was an unmarried woman, and so is a virgin-martyr. She helped a priest escape from the prison where he was being held by smuggling him a length of rope with which he could lower himself over the prison wall. She was eventually accused of giving assistance to the priest because it was known that she was the last person to have visited him, and therefore was the most obvious person to have given the rope to the prisoner. St. Margaret Ward was bound by chains, hung up by her hands, and was brutally scourged, as the authorities demanded to know where the priest had gone. She steadfastly refused, and was hanged publicly in London on August 30, 1588.

Although these three martyrs were canonized in 1970 among the Forty Martyrs of England and Wales, they are commemorated on a separate day because of the particular reason for their deaths; namely, their deep respect for the priesthood, and their zealous protection of priests.

Steadfast God, as we honour the fidelity in life and constancy in death of thy holy Martyrs Margaret Clitherow, Anne Line, and Margaret Ward: we pray thee to raise up in our day women of courage and resource to care for thy household the Church; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

The Passion of St. John the Baptist

The circumstances surrounding the martyrdom of St. John the Baptist are rather unsavoury.  We have a drunken king who makes an oath because he doesn’t want to be embarrassed in front of others. We have a hateful queen who wants revenge. We have a young girl who is pushed into the situation by her mother, and made to do a seductive dance and then make a deal to have John murdered.

This Gospel account describes it for us:

Herod had sent and seized John, and bound him in prison for the sake of Herodias, his brother Philip's wife; because he had married her. For John said to Herod, "It is not lawful for you to have your brother's wife." And Herodias had a grudge against him, and wanted to kill him. But she could not, for Herod feared John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man, and kept him safe. When he heard him, he was much perplexed; and yet he heard him gladly. But an opportunity came when Herod on his birthday gave a banquet for his courtiers and officers and the leading men of Galilee. For when Herodias' daughter came in and danced, she pleased Herod and his guests; and the king said to the girl, "Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will grant it." And he vowed to her, "Whatever you ask me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom." And she went out, and said to her mother, "What shall I ask?" And she said, "The head of John the baptizer." And she came in immediately with haste to the king, and asked, saying, "I want you to give me at once the head of John the Baptist on a platter." And the king was exceedingly sorry; but because of his oaths and his guests he did not want to break his word to her. And immediately the king sent a soldier of the guard and gave orders to bring his head. He went and beheaded him in the prison, and brought his head on a platter, and gave it to the girl; and the girl gave it to her mother. When his disciples heard of it, they came and took his body, and laid it in a tomb.

- St. Mark 6:17-29

John the Baptist was the last of the Old Testament prophets, and he was the first New Testament prophet. Of course, he was treated like most of the prophets were – he was hated for speaking the truth. Sent by God to prepare the people for the Messiah, his vocation was one of selfless giving. The only power he claimed was the Spirit of God. “I am baptizing you with water, for repentance, but the one who is coming after me is mightier than I. I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire” (Matthew 3:11).

Scripture tells us that many people followed John looking to him for hope, perhaps in anticipation of some great messianic power. John never allowed himself the false honor of receiving these people for his own glory. He knew his calling was one of preparation. When the time came, he led his disciples to Jesus: “The next day John was there again with two of his disciples, and as he watched Jesus walk by, he said, ‘Behold, the Lamb of God.’ The two disciples heard what he said and followed Jesus” (John 1:35-37), and so the life and death of St. John the Baptist had the great purpose of pointing the way to Christ.

Almighty God, by whose grace and power thy servant St. John the Baptist triumphed over suffering and despised death: Grant, we beseech thee, that we, enduring hardness and waxing valiant in fight, may with the noble army of martyrs receive the crown of everlasting life; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

_____________________________________

"The Beheading of St. John the Baptist" ca. 1869

by Pierre Puvis de Chavannes

St. Augustine of Hippo, Bishop and Doctor

St. Augustine was born in A.D. 354 in what is modern-day Algeria. His family was of some substance and highly respected. His father Patricius was a pagan, though he converted to Christianity on his deathbed. His mother St. Monica was a Christian and raised Augustine in the faith, though he was not baptized until he was an adult.

As a boy Augustine became conscious of sin in a special way when he participated in a pointless act of theft – an act which made a profound impression on him and he later wrote about and regretted it. He and some companions stole pears from a tree, not necessarily to eat, but just to steal for the fun of it. In his spiritual autobiography, the Confessions, he described the incident, and ended his account by writing, “Foul was the evil, and I loved it.”

When he was nineteen, Augustine began a long-term affair with a woman. We do not know her name, because Augustine deliberately didn’t record it. He never married her, but they did have a son. Despite his Christian upbringing, Augustine abandoned the Faith and became a Manichean, a gnostic sect, an act which crushed his mother.

So far it doesn’t sound much like the life of a saint, so how did he turn things around? He happened to take a position teaching rhetoric in Milan, Italy and, with the encouragement of his mother, began to have more contact with Christians and Christian literature, which brought him in contact with the great St. Ambrose, then the bishop of Milan.

One day, in the summer of 386, he heard a childlike voice chanting “Tolle, lege” (“Take, read”). He took this as a divine command and opened the Bible, randomly, to Romans 13:13-14, which reads: “Let us conduct ourselves becomingly as in the day, not in reveling and drunkenness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, not in quarreling and jealousy. But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.”

Applying this to his own life, Augustine was cut to the heart, and his conversion began in earnest. He was baptized, along with his son Adeodatus, at the next Easter Vigil by St. Ambrose. A few short years later his mother Monica and his son Adeodatus both died. Augustine returned to him home in North Africa, where he was alone on the family property. He sold almost all his possessions and gave the money to the poor and he turned the family home into a monastery. In 391, he was ordained a priest of the diocese of Hippo. In 395, he became the city’s coadjutor bishop and then its bishop. As bishop, he wrote extensively, and the value of his writings was such that he is considered to be a Church Father.

This great Doctor of the Church spent over 30 years working on his treatise De Trinitate [about the Holy Trinity], endeavouring to conceive an intelligible explanation for the mystery of the Trinity. 

Augustine was walking by the seashore one day contemplating and trying to understand the mystery of the Holy Trinity when he saw a small boy running back and forth from the water to a spot on the seashore. The boy was using a sea shell to carry the water from the ocean and place it into a small hole in the sand. 

The Bishop of Hippo approached him and asked, “My boy, what are doing?” 

“I am trying to bring all the sea into this hole,” the boy replied with a sweet smile. 

“But that is impossible, my dear child, the hole cannot contain all that water” said Augustine. 

The boy paused in his work, stood up, looked into the eyes of the Saint, and replied, “It is no more impossible than what you are trying to do – comprehend the immensity of the mystery of the Holy Trinity with your small intelligence.” 

The Saint was absorbed by such a keen response from that child, and turned his eyes from him for a short while. When he glanced down to ask him something else, the boy had vanished. 

Some say that it was an Angel sent by God to teach Augustine a lesson on pride in learning. Others affirm it was the Christ Child Himself who appeared to the Saint to remind him of the limits of human understanding before the great mysteries of our Faith.

Augustine died on August 28, 430. He was canonized by popular acclaim and was subsequently proclaimed to be one of the four original Doctors of the Church.

O Merciful Lord, who didst turn Saint Augustine from his sins to be a faithful Bishop and teacher: grant that we may follow him in penitence and godly discipline; till our restless hearts find their rest in thee; 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.

Trinity XI: My Will or God's Will

One Sabbath when Jesus went to dine at the house of a ruler who belonged to the Pharisees, they were watching him.

- St. Luke 14:1

The Gospel accounts of our Lord’s earthly ministry very often start out with a simple description of the setting, and then build up to give us an important lesson about the Faith. The Gospel for this Sunday is no different. It begins by setting the scene: “One Sabbath when Jesus went to dine at the house of a ruler who belonged to the Pharisees…” So far, the story sounds ordinary. An ordinary invitation, a well-prepared meal, the potential for some convivial conversation, a nice social event. But it goes on to say: “they were watching him.” And the whole mood changes.

Jesus had been invited to this Pharisee’s house, along with several other guests, just so he could be “watched.” What might have been an innocent meal with a young and interesting rabbi was turned into an occasion when the host and the other guests hoped they would be able to catch Jesus doing or saying something wrong.

Remember who the Pharisees were. They were the spiritually elite of their day, the educated ones, the experts. They knew the Law. They knew the writings of the prophets. In fact, the Pharisees were the pride of Israel. Nobody knew their religion like they did.

So the meal begins. When Christ begins to speak, His words seem inoffensive enough – although if we’ve paid attention to the Gospel account, we can see that Jesus’ first words were in response to what he saw going on. Apparently the other guests were elbowing themselves forward for the best seats at table, the place which would denote the best honour. And so Jesus speaks: “When you are invited by any one to a marriage feast, do not sit down in a place of honour, lest a more eminent man than you be invited…” It seems like common sense, and one would think they would have been embarrassed. At formal meals there is a proper order in the way guests are seated. We are accustomed to having a head table at a banquet, and we fully expect any visiting dignitaries to take a place there. And unless we ourselves fall into that category, we wouldn’t expect to sit there ourselves. Even at family gatherings, this is true. A father has “his place” at the table; a mother has “her place.” Even if the children squabble over who is going to sit where, there is respect for certain places at the table. So Christ is making a point in a very simple way. It points out that there is greater honour in hearing the words “come up higher,” rather in being put down with “move over and make room” for this other person.

On the surface, this seems to be all Jesus is saying. An ordinary observation, making a case for modesty and humility, which in the end is better for us than being self-important and overly-assertive. But when we look at the totality of the scriptural teaching from this Sunday’s readings, we can see that there is much more to what our Lord is saying.

In the reading from Sirach we hear these words: “The greater you are, the more you must humble yourself; so you will find favour in the sight of the Lord.” Here are words that take Christ’s teaching out of the earthly realm of how we should behave at a dinner and applies what He has to say to the spiritual realm of the kingdom of God. If at a banquet it is better to wait for the master of the house to give you honour, rather than to take honour to yourself, then it is certainly true that in the kingdom of God we cannot choose our place, or exalt ourselves on our own.

In fact, this point is so important that the lesson goes on to say, “the affliction of the proud has no healing, for a plant of wickedness has taken root in him.” So then, it appears that we have two choices: either we can try to exalt ourselves, try to grab a role or position or function that we want, and do all in our power to attain it, or we can humble ourselves, and make the effort to free ourselves from all personal ambition, and from the need to have a certain place or a certain role.

We should consider that more closely.

The desire to have a place or position that suits our personal desires, and then putting all our energies into obtaining it can take different forms, and not all of them bad. Is it wrong to have ambition to achieve some good thing? Certainly not, if our desire is in accordance with God’s plan for us. But, if it means that a person puffs himself up so as to appear better or more important in the eyes of others, it becomes something else altogether.

We’ve all seen this: the elected official, supposedly the servant of the people, who expects his constituents practically to do obeisance when they’re in his presence; or the priest or bishop, who is supposed to be Christ in our midst, but who is “too busy” to speak to ordinary people; or the low-level government clerk who hides behind mountains of official forms and regulations, making members of the public go from line to line, hoping to find someone who might help. This a kind of pridefulness in which that person has made himself the center of all things, and it is a grabbing of power over others which props him up in his own conceit.

But God speaks to us of “humbling” ourselves, to remember that we are small because we are always in the presence of the Lord. This involves a willingness to live in such a way that we remember that we are completely dependent upon God. Christ tells us that if you want to be the greatest, they you must make yourself the “least of all.” But that doesn’t always sit well with many people. They mistake “humility” for “humiliation,” and they would see being the “least of all” as a giving up of their liberty and the right to make their own decisions about themselves and their own talents and expectations from life.

But quite the opposite is true – and we see it in this Sunday’s appointed reading from the epistle to the Hebrews. We are told “You have not come to what may be touched, a blazing fire, and darkness, and gloom, and a tempest…” In other words, we’re not supposed to be wrapped up in those things that are intended to impress others on a merely human plane. Hebrews goes on, “But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem… to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant.” In other words, the believer is someone who approaches something and someone far greater than mere human things. It is the “heavenly Jerusalem,” the kingdom of God – indeed, it is Jesus Christ himself to whom we come.

This is the humility Christ teaches us. It involves a choice: either we choose to be strong in our own eyes and in the eyes of others, or else we choose to have a share in the kingdom of God. And if we choose the share in His kingdom, then we accept the fact that everything is of Him, and by Him, and for Him. So “humbling oneself” isn’t the negation or the destruction of what is truly human in us; rather, it is choosing to put ourselves into the hands of Almighty God so that we can be conformed to what He wants us to be.

This is part of the paradox and the mystery of our faith: in order to be strong, we must make ourselves completely dependent upon God; in order to be free, we must make ourselves completely subservient to our Lord; in order to be proud, we must take upon ourselves complete humility. But, of course, this is also the joy of our Christian faith. We are not standing by ourselves against the world. We don’t have to make our own way through life, hoping to garner some share of human respect, and depending upon our own small accomplishments to earn us a place at this world’s banquet. No, we have come to the city of the living God, where our place is already set, and where the master of the banquet waits for our arrival, and where our own accomplishments count for very little because Christ has done all things for us.

How clear the choice is. We can choose our own will, and inherit eternal death. Or we can choose the will of God, and live in that heavenly Jerusalem, which is the kingdom of God.

____________________________________

Painting: "The Wedding Feast" by Tintoretto (1518-1594)

St. Monica, Widow and Confessor

The circumstances of St. Monica's life could have made her a nagging wife, a bitter daughter-in-law and a despairing parent, yet she did not give way to any of those temptations. Although she was a Christian, her parents gave her in marriage to a pagan, Patricius, who lived in her hometown of Tagaste in North Africa. Patricius had some redeeming features, but he had a violent temper and lived an immoral life. Monica also had to put up with an ill-tempered mother-in-law who lived in her home. Patricius constantly criticized his wife because of her charity and piety, but he always respected her. Monica's prayers and example finally won her husband and mother-in-law over to Christianity. Her husband died in 371, one year after his Baptism.

Monica had at least three children who survived infancy. The oldest, Augustine, is the most famous. At the time of his father's death, Augustine was 17 and a student of rhetoric in Carthage. Monica was distressed to learn that her son had accepted the Manichean heresy – which was a combination of gnostic Christianity, Buddhism, Zoroastrianism, and various other elements, with the basic doctrine of a conflict between light and dark, with matter (physical things) being regarded as dark and evil. At this point, Augustine was living an immoral life. For a while, Monica refused to let him eat or sleep in her house. Then one night she had a vision that assured her Augustine would return to the faith. From that time on she stayed close to her son, praying and fasting for him. In fact, she often stayed much closer than Augustine wanted.

When he was 29, Augustine decided to go to Rome to teach rhetoric. Monica was determined to go along. One night he told his mother that he was going to the dock to say goodbye to a friend. Instead, he set sail for Rome. Monica was heartbroken when she learned of Augustine's trick, but she still followed him. She arrived in Rome only to find that he had left for Milan. Although travel was difficult, Monica pursued him to Milan.

In Milan Augustine came under the influence of the bishop, St. Ambrose, who also became Monica's spiritual director. She accepted his advice in everything and had the humility to give up some practices that had become second nature to her. Monica became a leader of the devout women in Milan, as she had been in Tagaste.

She continued her prayers for Augustine during his years of instruction. At Easter, 387, St. Ambrose baptized Augustine and several of his friends. Soon after, his party left for Africa. Although no one else was aware of it, Monica knew her life was nearing the end. She told Augustine, "Son, nothing in this world now affords me delight. I do not know what there is now left for me to do or why I am still here, all my hopes in this world being now fulfilled." She became ill shortly after and suffered severely for nine days before her death.

O God, who art the Comforter of them that mourn, and the Salvation of them that hope in thee, who didst graciously regard the tearful pleading of blessed Monica for the conversion of her son Augustine: grant, we beseech thee, at their united intercession; that we may truly lament our sins and be made worthy to obtain thy gracious pardon; 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.

________________________

Image: from a fresco by Benozzo Gozzoli, “Saint Monica,” c. 1465