Blessed Michael Rua

Blessed Michael Rua

An Important Figure for the Salesian Congregation

(ANS – Rome) – Blessed Michael Rua’s memorial is celebrated on October 29.

As St. John Bosco's 1st successor (1888-1910), Blessed Michael is an important figure in understanding better the story of Don Bosco and the Salesian Congregation. On his feastday in 2012, the Rector Major highlighted some aspects of Don Bosco’s successor.

Fr. Pascual Chavez (RM 2002-2014) referred to two documents: his Letter on Fr. Rua, Successor of Don Bosco: son, disciple, apostle (AGC 405), and the proceedings of the 5th International Congress of the History of the Salesian Work, held in Valdocco, Turin, from October 28 to November 1, 2009: “Michael Rua, first successor of Don Bosco: Personality traits, management, and works (1888-1910).”

The Rector Major’s reflection highlighted the diversity and dynamism that Fr. Rua brought to youth ministry: “The ability to focus and the farsighted management of the Rector Major is expressed in the evangelical spirit of service, humble and creative, open to new experience,” said Fr. Chavez. “Nevertheless, his courage and apostolic zeal stand out in a historically momentous time of ideological changes that threatened the Church of Christ and his claim to apostolate and education, especially among the youth of the working classes.”

Citing studies of the 2009 conference, Fr. Chavez listed some of Fr. Rua’s characteristics: strengthening and expansion of the Salesian Family; skilful, collegiate management with the general council, provincials, and directors; introduction of the practice of extraordinary visitors to the provinces; careful expansion of missionary work in perspective; involvement of the Salesian Cooperators; ecclesial and social concern; willingness to collaborate with Church authorities in full and loyal obedience, even at the cost of heavy sacrifices; care in relations with the Daughters of Mary Help of Christians even after the separation of the two congregations by new legislation desired by the Holy See.

“One can liken his person to a mosaic of colors, whose shades of composition are formed in a harmonious way that doesn’t offend anybody,” said Fr. Chavez, pointing out some personal qualities of Fr. Rua: charity and simplicity; the subtle and genial manner; the stability of spirit and humor; sensitivity and capacity of affection. “Action was driven by a firm will to achieve the aims of the Salesian mission. He was master of himself even in the most dramatic and painful moments, with a calm that became proverbial.”

On March 19, 1888, less than two months after Don Bosco’s death, Fr. Rua wrote a circular letter in which there appears to be a draft program of work for the Salesians and for himself: “The other thought that remained fixed in my mind was that we must consider ourselves very lucky to be sons of such a Father [Don Bosco]. Therefore, our concern must be to support and always to develop more the works which he started, to follow faithfully the methods he practiced and taught, and in the way we speak and act to try to imitate the model that the Lord in his goodness has provided to us. This, O my dear children, will be the program that I’ll follow in my office; this is to be the aim and the study of each of the Salesians.”

He was able to develop that program quite well!

Homily for 30th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Homily for the
30th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Oct. 27, 2019

Luke 18: 9-14
St. Anthony, Bronx

“Two men went up to the temple to pray” (Luke 18: 10).

by John Everett Millais

Last Sunday Jesus told us a parable about persistence in our prayer (Luke 18:1-8).  Today he tells us one about our attitude in prayer.

Every now and then a priest encounters a would-be penitent in confession who “confesses” his virtues or the faults of her husband rather than his or her own moral failures.  The parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector is about such people.

The 2 men in the parable have gone up to the temple at the hour of public prayer, specifically of the daily sacrifice and prayer for atonement.  Both men stand apart from the rest of the people assembled for prayer, but apart for very different reasons.

The Pharisees were a group of very pious Jews, dedicated to a rigorous observance of the Law of Moses, closely allied with the scribes, who studied, taught, and interpreted the Law.  In the Gospels the scribes and Pharisees are often paired in their resistance to Jesus’ preaching.  The Pharisees were no friends of ordinary Jews, who were much more casual about legal observance even if they weren’t scandalous sinners.

          Coming to temple prayer, the Pharisee separates himself lest he be contaminated by the uncleanness of the ordinary Jewish faithful, who aren’t as strict as he is in their observance of the Law.  He proceeds to thank God that he, the Pharisee, is so morally superior to everyone else—not a scoundrel, a swindler, an adulterer like the rest of mankind.  He goes on to list some of his pious practices like fasting and paying tithes.

It’s true that we must be grateful to God for whatever’s good in our lives, including whatever virtues we may practice.  The Pharisee, however, is telling God how good he is and how bad everyone else is.  He’s not really being thankful but boastful and arrogant.  He’s not in debt to God, not in need of atonement; God’s in debt to him!

Then the Pharisee specifically includes the tax collector in the ranks of the sinners whom he despises.  The rest of Jewish society did look down on tax collectors.  As a class they were seen as greedy, as extortioners—and as traitors because they collaborated with the Romans in their government of the Jewish territories, collecting various customs duties.  Having contracted with the Roman authorities to pay them a certain amount of money, they were then free to charge the taxpayers whatever they wished or could get away with.  Hence their reputation for greed, whether it was merited or not.  After all, no one loves the taxman!  That will be background also for next Sunday’s gospel about a particular tax collector in Jericho.

The tax collector in Jesus’ parable also separates himself from the assembly at prayer in the temple, but for a very different reason than the Pharisee.  He “stood off at a distance and wouldn’t even raise his eyes to heaven” (18:13).  He doesn’t consider himself worthy of the company of his fellow Jews, barely worthy of addressing God.  He knows that he needs atonement:  “O God, be merciful to me, a sinner” (18:13).  We don’t know whether he really was greedy or dishonest in his professional dealings.  But he knows who he is, knows his status before God:  a sinner who needs to be forgiven.

As are we all.  Regardless of our virtues—like Sunday Mass attendance, care for our families, day-to-day honesty, fidelity to our marriages and other obligations, restraining ourselves against the 7 deadly sins, and so so—we all fail quite a lot regarding love of neighbor, truthfulness, chastity, looking after our health, safety on the streets, and so on.  All of us ought to pray as the tax collector did.  All of us ought to come to our Lord Jesus every month in the sacrament of Reconciliation and confess our sinfulness, asking Christ for his mercy.  “The one who serves God willingly is heard; his petition reaches the heavens.  The prayer of the lowly pierces the clouds; it does not rest till it reaches its goal,” the book of Sirach teaches us (35: 16-17).

At the end of the parable, Jesus says that only the tax collector went away from the temple justified, i.e., in a grace-filled relationship with God.  The Pharisee saw no need for God’s grace, didn’t ask for it, and didn’t receive it.  The tax collector saw, asked, and received.

The psalmist stresses that “The Lord hears the cry of the poor” (Responsory; cf. Ps 34), of the poor sinner who knows he or she can’t attain salvation unless our merciful God offers us forgiveness.  Which he does whenever we turn to him like the tax collector, particularly when we invoke the name of our Savior Jesus Christ.

Fr. Martin Lasarte Shares Synod Experience

Fr. Lasarte of SDB Mission Department Shares His Synod Experience

From CRUX, October 26, 2019

ROME - On the eve of the conclusion of the Oct. 6-27 Vatican summit on the Amazon, one of the participants said he regrets that too much of the discussion has been about ordaining married men to the priesthood and women to the diaconate.

Fr. Martin Lasarte in Angola a few years ago (Salesians of Angola)

“Unfortunately, the insistence on the ordained ministries has taken some of the spotlight from other issues, which in my opinion, should have been developed further,” said Salesian Father Martin Lasarte from Uruguay, who was a special appointment by Pope Francis to the Synod of Bishops’ meeting.

Read the whole interview: https://cruxnow.com/amazon-synod/2019/10/26/participant-says-debate-on-ordination-distracted-synod-from-more-important-issues/

Homily for 29th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Homily for the
29th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Oct. 20, 2019

Collect
St. Anthony, Bronx, N.Y.
St. Theresa, Bronx, N.Y.

“Grant that we may always conform our will to yours and serve your majesty in sincerity of heart” (Collect).

The Collect we prayed at the beginning of Mass has 2 parts.  In the 1st petition we prayed God that our wills might always conform with his—which is a prayer we make every day, maybe many times a day:  “Thy will be done.”  That doesn’t mean only “may everyone else do what you wish, O God,” but also “may I do your will, O God.”

The Angelus (Jean-Francois Millet)

In the 2d petition we prayed that we might sincerely serve almighty God—serve him not just in our external behavior, altho that’s essential for us as followers of Christ, but also to serve him internally, to conform our wills, our attitudes, and our intentions to whatever it is God desires of us.

About a week ago I had a conversation with an old friend whose husband had died a few months ago.  Altho he was of retirement age, he never really retired; rather, he got seriously engaged in some social service volunteer work.  Consequently, he never got to do the carpentry projects he’d planned, nor did the couple get to enjoy some anticipated final years together.  And in his last months, he came down with a somewhat mysterious illness that caused him both suffering and frustration.  Both husband and wife had to accept something different from God than they’d planned or expected.  It seems to me they did so as well as one can hope for.  “Thy will be done.”

My widowed friend wasn’t done dealing with all that goes with the passing of a spouse—legal paperwork and years of accumulated material possessions and memories.  She had a medical situation of her own and had surgery lined up for Columbus Day; and then she got sick and had to put off the surgery till Lord knows when.  Once again, an occasion for conforming her will to God’s, which she strives for.

God’s will—his positive will or his passive will—so often make demands of all of us.  His positive will is what he requires of us, e.g., the duties of our state of life or the keeping of the commandments.  His passive will is what he allows to befall us, e.g., sickness, the loss of someone we love, the trouble that Mother Nature or some person or the Astros[1] inflicts upon us.

The Responsorial Psalm expressed our complete trust in God:  “He neither slumbers nor sleeps, the guardian of Israel.  The Lord … is beside you at your right hand.  The Lord will guard you from all evil; he will guard your life” (121:3-5,7).  If we have that complete trust in God, we do accept his will always and try to conform our will, our desires, and our intentions with his, even when it’s difficult, even when it requires us to change our plans, even when it costs us sacrifice.  Because that’s a challenge, we do need to pray every day, “Thy will be done.”  If we do pray, “Thy will be done” sincerely, “will God be slow to answer?” (Luke 18:7).  Will he not come quickly to the aid of Christ’s faithful servants (cf. 18:8)?

With God’s aid, we can “conform our will” to his.  With the power of the Holy Spirit whom the Father and the Son send to us, we can overcome our own inertia, our selfishness, our shortsightedness and become more like Jesus.  Jesus always did his Father’s will, always served God’s plan “in sincerity of heart.”  In the Garden of Gethsemane he struggled to conform his human will with his Father’s but did surrender his will to his Father:  “Father, if you are willing, take this cup away from me; still, not my will but yours be done” (Luke 22:42).  At the beginning of his public ministry, he’d told his disciples, “My food is to do the will of the one who sent me and to finish his work” (John 4:34).  On the cross his dying words were, “It is finished” (John 19:30).

Such sincerity of heart is part of our prayer this morning/afternoon, too:  that we may always “serve your majesty in sincerity of heart”; that we may gladly carry out whatever God asks of us each day, not grumbling, not dragging our feet—whether what God asks involves our ordinary responsibilities of family life or work or good citizenship, or something more unusual, maybe involving our health, our family relationships, what’s going on at work, travel plans, bad weather—all the many things that we have to deal with day by day.

In all situations, ordinary or extraordinary, we ask, “What is God asking of me now?  What’s his will for me at this moment?”  Perhaps we consult a spiritual advisor or another trusted confidant.  We pray to the Holy Spirit, the Wisdom of God.  We pray that we may, as St. Paul urged St. Timothy, “remain faithful to what you have learned and believed, because you know from whom you learned it, and that from infancy you have known the sacred Scriptures, which are capable of giving you wisdom for salvation thru faith in Christ Jesus” (2 Tim 3:14-15).  We trust that our Lord Jesus remains with us to guide and strengthen us; he loves us, walks with us, wants only to keep us with him happily for eternity.

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      [1] For New York City parishioners, an allusion to the Houston Astros’ having beaten the Yankees last nite and won the American League pennant.

Homily for Memorial of North American Martyrs

Homily for the Memorial of the

North American Martyrs

Oct. 19, 2019

Provincial House, New Rochelle, N.Y.

The Jesuit martyr-saints as depicted at their shrine in Auriesville, N.Y.

I’ve heard that Canada tries to claim these 8 heroic Jesuits as “the Canadian martyrs.”  In truth, they were all Frenchmen on the Jesuits’ Canadian mission.  Some, like Jean de Brebeuf, had been in Canada for over 20 years; others had been there only a year or 2.  6 were priests, 2 lay missioner volunteers.

5—Brebeuf, Anthony Daniel, Charles Garnier, Gabriel Lalement, and Noel Chabanel—shed their blood in what’s now Ontario, and there’s a beautiful shrine to them at Midland, along with a re-creation of a Huron village and Jesuit mission.  As we know, the other 3—Isaac Jogues, René Goupil, and Jean de Lalande—died at Auriesville, N.Y.

Coliseum chapel at the Martyrs Shrine in Auriesville (Wikimedia Commons)

You’ve probably all heard a news story introduced with a caution like, “Some listeners may find the details disturbing.”  That’s true of the tortures to which several of these priests and laymen were subjected:  running the gauntlet, fingernails torn out, parts of fingers sawed off with clamshells, being “baptized” with boiling water, having a necklace of red-hot tomahawks put upon them.  Being dispatched by arrows like Fr. Daniel or tomahawk like Lalande almost sounds merciful.

These missionaries didn’t suffer all that for love of the forests, rivers, and lakes of New France but for love of God and zeal for souls.

The martyrdom of Frs. Brebeuf and Lalement

Shedding one’s blood so gruesomely wasn’t the only witness to love for Christ that Jesuit, as well as Franciscan, missioners displayed in Canada and lands that we know today as New York, Maine, and the American Midwest.  You may remember a line in Don Bosco’s introduction to our Constitutions about religious suffering a martyrdom of endurance in contrast to the intensity which blood martyrs suffer.  A good many of the Franciscan and Jesuit missionaries endured at length during their service in New France—endured insufferable cold, hunger, choking smoke in Indian longhouses, insects, days of travel by canoe, fatigue, the loneliness of going months without seeing a confrere, struggles with language, insults, the poor moral example of some of their countrymen trapping and trading among the Indians.

Some missionaries died heroically without shedding their blood.  Fr. Anne de Nouë froze to death in a winter storm while trying to reach a French outpost to celebrate the sacraments for the soldiers.  Fr. Jacques Marquette, renowned for exploring the Mississippi River and what’s now Illinois, died almost alone on the shore of Lake Michigan and was buried in an unmarked grave.  Another whose story I couldn’t locate in Parkman’s history of the Jesuit mission[1] drowned in the rapids of the St. Lawrence near Montreal.

Some shed blood without having their cause as martyrs put forward.  Fr. Joseph Bressani was captured by the Iroquois and horribly mutilated and tortured but not killed; eventually he was ransomed by the Dutch at Albany—and after recovering from his wounds, returned to the Huron mission. [2]

Death of Father Sebastian Rale of the Society of Jesus

Thomas W. Strong, lithograph publisher, 98 Nassau Street, New York

Fr. Sebastian Râle was a missionary among the Abenaki in what’s now Maine for 30-something years.  He converted all or most of the tribe and was totally devoted to them.  Their territory was in the borderlands between New France and New England, and he defended their independence from both French and British intrusions during the interminable colonial wars.  The Massachusetts English blamed Fr. Râle when the Abenaki sided with the French in the wars and, with their passionate hatred for both the French and Catholics, put a price on his head, eventually slaying him in 1724 in a military assault on his Abenaki mission.[3]

Truly, all of these priests and lay volunteers were North American martyrs, even if only 8 have been canonized.  They were witnesses to the Lord Jesus in their daily hardships and struggles to bring the Catholic faith to the many nations that they might become children of Abraham (cf. Rom 4:13-18).

And that’s their example to us who don’t expect to be tortured or tomahawked.  In the collect we prayed “that thru their intercession the faith of Christians may be strengthened day by day.”  Every day we have the opportunity to witness to the Lord Jesus and to the faith in our daily struggles—struggles with our various personalities, with perceived shortcomings, with the weather, with household breakdowns, with plans that go awry, with impatience with our own sins and failings, with trying to get to chapel on time, with the effort to be faithful to our vows, with the hard work of teaching or administering, etc.  Our witness helps support our brothers—and also the lay people who see and hear us and count upon our good example as well as our prayers.  Several nites a week we hear the names of deceased confreres whom we lived with and whose heroic example we admired—because they were contemporary North American martyrs, witnesses to the Lord Jesus and our faith.  May the grace of Christ so strengthen us that we may be genuine witnesses to him.

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     [1] Francis Parkman, The Jesuits in North America in the Seventeenth Century, vol. 2 of “France and England in North America,” in Parkman, The Library of America, vol. I (New York, 1983), pp. 331-712.

     [2] Parkman, pp. 576-579.

     [3] Brian O’Neel, 150 North American Martyrs You Should Know (Cincinnati: Servant Books, 2014), pp. 80-83.  Cf. Francis Parkman, A Half Century of Conflict, vol. 6 of “France and England in North America,” in Parkman, The Library of America, vol. II (New York, 1983), pp. 477-501.

Homily for Feast of St. Luke

Homily for the Feast
of St. Luke

Oct. 18, 2019

Ursulines, New Rochelle, N.Y.

The liturgical texts for today’s feast reference God’s love for the poor as a theme in Luke’s Gospel and Acts, and the preaching of the Good News to all nations (Collect), with a side note of fidelity (2 Tim 4:10-17).

St. Luke by Guido Reni

Since this month is especially dedicated to the missions—both by the Holy Father’s declaration and by the Synod on the Amazon—we do well to note that the Lord wishes all of humanity to be saved thru the grace of Jesus Christ, and all of us have roles like the 72 disciples whom Jesus sent out as his advance teams into the towns and villages of Galilee (Luke 10:1-9).

The message that we carry is one of healing (10:9)—not so much physical as spiritual.  The kingdom of God (10:9) is among us in the forgiveness that Jesus offers us sinners; in our attention to the poor and the marginalized—the high and mighty are quite good at looking after themselves, but the 99% need the followers of Jesus to bring them hope and love, a chance in this life and an offering of eternal life.

Even in retirement we can proclaim the Gospel.  In the 1st place, we want to live it with each other at home.  Even here we need hope and healing, forgiveness and love.  Here, as well, we may be like Luke, Paul’s faithful companion, assisting each other.

Then we can pray for the many needs of our world—the needs of New Rochelle, of the Ursuline mission everywhere, of missionaries, of the peoples of the Amazon, of persecuted Christians, of people in need everywhere.

No doubt you’re already aware of the poverty among your alumnae and in your own families—how many are anxious or distressed or confused and in pain; how many want someone they can talk to and confide in, someone who will let them know they’re loved by God and by you.  Your families and alumnae are villages to which Jesus sends you with his Good News.

Former SDB Parishes in Bahamas OK

Former Salesian Parishes in Bahamas 
Reported OK after Hurricane Dorian

SDBs served Bahamas parishes for 23 years

Salesians who served years ago in the Bahamas, knowing the geography of Grand Bahama Island (long, narrow, and barely above sea level), were very concerned when Hurricane Dorian struck the Bahamas on September 1, about the welfare of their former parishioners in the parishes where they served.

As everyone who followed the news in Dorian’s wake knows, the hurricane did catastrophic damage to the Abaco Islands and the east end of Grand Bahama Island, as well as to part of Freeport, including some damage to St. Mary Church.Finding an e-address at the webpage of the archdiocese of Nassau, I sent a query about them to Renee Knowles of the chancery office. Eventually she responded, “As far as I am aware the communities of St. Agnes and St. Vincent did not suffer any catastrophic damage.” She hinted to the current pastor of the main parish, St. Mary Star of the Sea in Freeport, that he might provide me with additional information, but so far I haven’t heard more.

Salesians on Grand Bahama and the Other Islands

For 23 years the Salesians served parishes in the western settlements on Grand Bahama (the vicinity of Freeport), specifically at St. Agnes Parish in Eight Mile Rock, St. Vincent de Paul in Hunter, and St. Michael at West End. All three churches and their property (including St. Vincent School and the rectories) are either at the ocean’s edge or just hundreds of yards from it, and thus susceptible to what hurricanes can do with surging water.

http://ontheworldmap.com/bahamas/islands/grand-bahama/detailed-map-of-grand-bahama.html

Fr. Orlando Molina (1915-1978; in photo, right, as seminarian in Barcelona, ca. 1960) was the first Salesian to take up a mission on Grand Bahama, starting in 1971 at St. Agnes in Eight Mile Rock, where he was pastor until his sudden death on Dec. 11, 1978, at age 63. He initiated youth programs, served on the staff of Grand Bahama Catholic High School, and was a popular preacher.

Interior of St. Agnes Church, Eight Mile Rock

St. Agnes, Eight Mile Rock, was designed 

to resemble a ship--the roof's not falling in.

Longtime pastors on Grand Bahama also included Fr. Attilio Klinger, who served 14 years at West End (1972-1982 and 1988-1992); Fr. Hector Poulin, 15 years at Eight Mile Rock (1978-1983 and 1988-1991), Hunter (1988-1991), West End (1985-1988), and St. Mary Star of the Sea in Freeport (1974-1978); Fr. Bob Grant, 7 years at Hunter (1979-1983) and West End (1983-1985); and Fr. Blaise Perrello at Hunter and Eight Mile Rock (1988-1993).

Fr. Poulin also had a brief stint at St. Francis Xavier Cathedral in Nassau (on New Providence Island) in 1978, curtailed when Fr. Molina died. Fr. Klinger was pastor of Holy Name Church on Bimini for 2 years (1982-1984) and of St. Bede Church in Nassau for 4 years (1984-1988).

St. Michael Church, West End

Other priests had shorter missions at the Grand Bahama parishes, from 6 months to 5 years. In addition, St. Agnes and St. Michael parishes ran summer programs that were staffed by young confreres in formation, like other summer camps of the province.

Brothers also made their contributions, especially Bro. Emile Dubé as youth minister at St. Agnes, 1980-1984, and then diocesan youth minister in Nassau from 1984 to 1986; also, Bro. Alfred Rinaldi, at St. Michael, 1983-1988; Bro. Jerry Cincotta at St. Agnes, 1986-1987; and Bro. Benny Natoli at St. Agnes, 1988-1989.

Choir and parishioners getting ready for Midnite Mass,

St. Vincent de Paul Church, Dec. 24, 1993.

St. Vincent de Paul Church at Hunter

Your humble blogger was the last Salesian on Grand Bahama, acting pastor of St. Agnes and St. Vincent de Paul parishes from December 1993 to June 1994, while Fr. Joe Doran served as the very last Salesian in the islands, pastor of St. Gregory the Great Church and its four mission stations on Eleuthera in 1993-1994.

The province decided in 1993 that it could no longer staff the Bahamas parishes due to declining numbers of priests in the province, and once Fr. Doran and I returned to the U.S. they wouldn’t be replaced. (I was still formally attached to Don Bosco Multimedia in New Rochelle all the while.)

Homily for 28th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Homily for the
28th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Oct. 13, 2019

Luke 17: 11-19
Christian Brothers, Iona College, New Rochelle, N.Y.
Our Lady of the Assumption, Bronx

“One of them … fell at the feet of Jesus and thanked him” (Luke 17: 15-16).

Jesus and the ten lepers (James Tissot)

In the reading from 2 Kings (5:14-17), Naaman the Syrian general tries to express his gratitude to the prophet Elisha because he’s been cleansed of leprosy.  In gratitude, however, Naaman adopts the God of Israel as his own God, to replace, for him and his household, the pagan gods of Syria.

In the ancient world, there was an understanding among many peoples, including the Hebrews initially, that gods were linked to a particular territory.  That’s why Naaman asks for some Israelite earth to take home—so that the God of Israel will recognize the place where he’s being invoked.  That sounds strange to us, but as it matured the Jewish religion was unique in that it recognized only one God of the entire earth, not many gods in many places, often doing battle with each other, as narrated by a lot of mythology and the epic poems of Homer and Vergil.  That monotheism is one reason why the Greeks and Romans found the Jews such a strange people.

The more fundamental point of today’s readings, tho, is the gratitude expressed by Naaman and the Samaritan leper whom Jesus healed.

Jesus seems disappointed that only one of the 10 cured lepers returns to thank him.  We’re not told what the time lapse is, e.g., did this one return immediately, even before carrying out Jesus’ instruction to go to the priests to have his cleanness certified so that he could return to the community of Israel?  We presume the other 9 did that, which is what Jesus told them to do.

Nevertheless, Jesus is disappointed that only one comes back to voice his appreciation to Jesus and to God the Father.

Is Jesus also disappointed that this one healed leper was a Samaritan, a foreigner whom Jews despised, while members of his own Jewish people are nowhere to be seen?  Actually, we’re not told anything about the other 9—nationality, gender, or age.  But since Jesus sends them to the Jewish priests, we may assume they’re Jewish.  As he does so often, St. Luke, in telling this story of a grateful Samaritan, is pointing toward the universality of Jesus’ message of salvation, offered not only to his own Jewish people but also to Samaritans and everyone else.

So this one Samaritan returns praising God for his healing and thanking Jesus, who acts as God’s messenger, the one who delivers healing.  The word in Luke’s Greek text for the ex-leper’s thanks is euchariston, a usual word for giving thanks.  It’s the same word the Gospels use when they tell us that Jesus “gave thanks” before he multiplied loaves and fish to feed the crowd that has been listening to his preaching.

Christians immediately relate to euchariston, for it’s the word we use for the ritual in which we carry out the command of Jesus to give thanks to God, bless bread and wine, and share it in his memory; in which we thank God the Father for redeeming us thru his Son’s life, death, resurrection, and ascension.  We gather on Sundays to celebrate the Eucharist, the sacrament of Christ’s body and blood, of his passion, death, and resurrection.  In the Eucharist we return to Jesus, glorifying God and giving thanks to Jesus for our salvation.  If we’re as grateful to our Lord Jesus for the gift of redemption as the Samaritan leper was for his healing, we can’t help but come to worship as part of the Christian faithful every week—and to pray that Christ’s salvation might be more widely known, believed, and lived in the lives of people everywhere.

At the end of the episode, Jesus tells the healed leper, “Stand up and go; your faith has saved you” (11:19).  Faith was what brought him and the others to Jesus in the 1st place.  Now Jesus dismisses him, in almost the same words in which we were traditionally dismissed from Mass:  “Ite, missa est”—go, you’re sent on your way.  The healed man isn’t told explicitly to go and spread Jesus’ message.  But we are, as the new formulas for our dismissal from Mass spell out, e.g., “Go and announce the Gospel of the Lord” or “Go in peace, glorifying the Lord by your lives.”  We are to “stand up and go,” living and giving witness to the faith that has saved us, the faith that has brought us together to give thanks to God at Mass, the faith that will save everyone who comes to know and believe in Jesus.

Abp. Lopez Receives Cardinal's Hat

“I want humanity to become one big family”

Abp. Cristobal Lopez Romero, SDB, Receives Cardinal’s Hat

(ANS – Vatican City – October 7) - On October 5 Pope Francis created 13 new cardinals; among them was a Salesian bishop, essentially a missionary, a son of Don Bosco who departed as an apostle for Paraguay, then was sent as a provincial to Bolivia. After Bolivia, he returned to serve as a provincial in his native country, Spain. While serving in Seville, he received the “missionary” assignment to serve as pastor of the little Catholic flock in Morocco.

Archbishop Lopez was given the cardinal’s biretta and diploma 
at the Vatican on October 5. / AFP via ANS

In all his interviews, Abp. Lopez says he is proud to be the pastor of a country where Catholics comprise only .08% of the population. “The Catholic Church exists in Morocco!” he exclaims. “It is a living Church, young, full of grace, and eager to bear witness.”

in his homily at the Mass in which the new cardinals were created, Pope Francis said, “Compassion is a key word in the Gospel.... It is forever written in the heart of God. The Lord’s compassion is not an occasional, sporadic attitude, but is constant; indeed, it seems to be the attitude of his heart, in which the mercy of God was incarnated.” To the new cardinals: “Is this awareness alive in you? To have been and to be always preceded and accompanied by his mercy? This consciousness was the permanent state of the immaculate heart of the Virgin Mary, who praised God as ‘her savior’ who ‘looked upon the lowliness of his servant’” (Lk 1:48).

Cardinal Cristobal remains the same: simple, kind, approachable, and above all a serene man, as he knows that God is the one who guides his small diocese of Rabat. In fact, when asked, “Why do you think the Pope chose you to be a cardinal?” he replies: “I don’t think that’s a decision that concerns me, but a great gesture of consideration by the Pope toward the Church of Morocco and the whole Maghreb. The Pope wanted to make visible these almost invisible ecclesiastical realities. And then, to promote interreligious dialog, especially Islamic-Christian dialog, and work on behalf of migrants.”

This appointment to my person “is considered a sign of gratitude by the Pope to King Mohammed VI for three reasons: the reception he received during his visit last March; the practice and dissemination of a moderate, balanced, and open Islam; the attention paid to those who are forced to emigrate,” emphasized Cardinal Cristobal.

The ceremony for the creation of new cardinals was attended by Fr. Angel Fernandez Artime, a group of Salesians from Spain, Italy, and Paraguay, friends and family of Abp. Lopez, and Moroccan authorities including the minister of the interior, the minister of Islam of Morocco, the ambassador of Morocco to the Holy See, a delegation of the Ecumenical Church Committee, and the official delegation of the Church of Morocco.

The cardinal’s desire is that “faith should no longer be one of the causes of world tensions, but should become the solution to these problems. We are called to propagate the gazes of brotherhood. United among ourselves, we must sow reconciliation and justice in such a way that humanity becomes one big family.”

Homily for 27th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Homily for the
27th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Oct. 6, 2019

Collect
Christian Brothers, Iona College, New Rochelle, N.Y.
St. Pius X, Scarsdale, N.Y.
St. Michael, Greenwich, Conn.

“In the abundance of your kindness, you surpass the merits and the desires of those who entreat you…” (Collect).

Many of the collects, or opening prayers, of our Sunday Masses are rather hard to understand in the translation we’ve been using since 2010.

These prayers are called “collects” because, in theory anyway, after the priest invites us all to pray, the congregation is expected to pray silently for a moment.  Then the celebrant “collects” everyone’s prayer in one joint appeal to the Father’s love and mercy.  With its resounding “Amen,” the congregation ratifies what the priest prays.

So today, what have we prayed for?  As always, we begin by naming some attribute of the Father, which usually becomes the basis for our pleading—or our “entreaty,” to use the word in today’s Collect.  The 1st attribute today is almighty God’s “abundance of kindness.”  “Kindness” here translates pietas, which in Latin doesn’t mean “piety.”  Pietas is a Roman virtue connoting family devotion, loyalty, or emotional bond, such as that between parent and child.[1]  Pietas, translated here as “kindness,” reinforces the bond between us children of God and the “ever-living God” who’s our father.

This kindness of our Father surpasses both our merits and our desires.  The “merits” of our behavior are nil.  Whatever good we do is overwhelmed by the weight of our sins.  We merit condemnation.  Before Holy Communion we acclaim, “O Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof,” not worthy that you should come to me.  The good that we do is done by the power of God’s grace.  If we may be accounted virtuous, and most of you, maybe all of you, are virtuous, it’s because the power of our Lord Jesus lives and works in us.  The very word virtue means “power,” and thru his Son Jesus the Father freely gives us this power, the power to act like Jesus.  He gives it, above all, thru the sacraments, these sacred mysteries in which we encounter Christ and are taken up into his life.

All of that “surpasses our desires.”  Every normal, healthy human being desires life, a long life, a healthy life, a peaceful life.  If we expect to find such life on this earth, however, we’re doomed to disappointment and frustration.  But the abundance of divine kindness surpasses our feeble desires and offers us eternal life, eternal youth, eternal peace.  Our frequent prayer for the deceased is “eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord,” because God truly gives us this gift thru the death and resurrection of Jesus.

After paying tribute to God’s attributes, we get to the actual prayer.  “Pour out your mercy upon us to pardon what conscience dreads and give what prayer does not dare to ask.”  Actually, we do dare to ask.  We’re asking here and now.  At every Mass, also, we introduce the Our Father with “At the Savior’s command …, we dare to say….”

Jonathan Edwards

We ask our kind, devoted heavenly Father, the Almighty, to be merciful, even tho we don’t merit mercy.  We ask for pardon we don’t deserve.  Our conscience dreads divine justice, due payment for our sins.  In an American lit class you may have read Jonathan Edwards’ sermon “Sinners in the hands of an angry God,” and you may remember an image he uses, of a spider dangling over a fire, likening that to us sinners suspended over hellfire only by God’s mercy.

Most of us, I dare say, certainly including me, have done or said things in our past, or failed to do something, of which we’re now utterly ashamed.  There are people who believe they’ve been so evil that they’re beyond redemption, beyond forgiveness—and they’re unwilling, then, to approach that great sacrament of God’s mercy, Reconciliation or Penance.  Conscience condemns them, perhaps rightly, and they dare not approach God for pardon.

The Letter to the Hebrews tells us that “Jesus, the Son of God,” is enthroned in heaven and acts as our “high priest” to intercede for us.  So we may “with confidence,” and not fear, “draw near the throne of grace” to “receive mercy and find grace” (4:14,16).  God desires more than we know to forgive us.

The kindness, the pietas, of our heavenly Father has given us his Son to award us pardon we don’t merit, to give us more life and joy than we can possibly imagine, much less desire.  We pray for that, and in our Eucharist we thank God for it as once more, in the sacred mysteries, we approach the throne of grace.

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    [1] Daniel J. Merz and Marcel Rooney, OSB, Essential Presidential Prayers and Texts (Chicago: LTP, 2011), p. 230.