Homily for the
18th Sunday
in Ordinary TimeJuly 31, 2011
Rom 8: 35, 37-39
Willow Towers, New Rochelle
Ursulines, Willow Dr., N.R.
“What will separate us from the love of Christ?” (Rom 8: 35).
In the 8th chapter of St. Paul’s Letter to the Romans, we’ve been meditating for 5 consecutive Sundays—or at least have been invited to meditate—on the glorious destiny to which God has called us in Jesus Christ: a destiny all but guaranteed to us because God has given us the Holy Spirit as a pledge (cf. 8:15-16). We hold the title, so to speak, on a fine condo in the Father’s retirement community.
Last week Paul assured us that everything works out in God’s plan for our redemption (8:28-30). Today he asks what could possibly ruin that plan. What could possibly separate us from the saving effects of Christ’s love for us? The short answer is “Nothing.” Nada. Niente. Rien.
As you know, Paul’s not very good at short answers. So he goes into some detail about threats, or supposed threats, to our ultimate well-being, the salvation that God has planned for us based on his all-powerful love for us.
Can anguish or distress separate us from Christ? Can any anxiety over life’s problems or even over our own failings cause Christ to abandon us? No. If we’re sincerely searching for God; if we’re sincerely trying to maintain healthy and loving relationships with the people in our lives; if we’re sincerely repenting of our sins and striving to improve our practice of virtue—not only will Christ not cast us away, but he will even embrace us; he will even “be moved with pity for” us, as he was for the crowd in today’s gospel (Matt 14:13-21). Our prayer after the Our Father at every Mass, to be kept free from sin and protected from all anxiety, is a reminder that only one thing can separate us from God’s love—not anguish or distress but only sin.
Can any external problems remove us from Christ’s loving embrace—external problems like natural disasters? Paul mentions famine and nakedness, and we could think of others like hurricanes, earthquakes, floods, drought, wildfires, and tornados. Sometimes these cause people to doubt God’s love for them, his concern for them. Atheists often point to them as “proof” that there’s no loving God, no all-surpassing wisdom guiding creation for our benefit.
Paul, on the other hand, suggested earlier in this chapter (3 Sundays back) that creation, too, needs to be redeemed, to be brought into line with God’s design; that it, too—like humanity—has been in a state of rebellion against its Lord. We hope, Paul says, “that creation itself would be set free from slavery to corruption and share in the glorious freedom of the children of God” (8:21). Till then, “all creation is groaning in labor pains” (8:22). Yet Jesus Christ is testimony to the Creator’s love and his commitment to fulfill creation’s destiny, which is the new creation, the “new heavens and new earth” spoken of in the last chapter of the Book of Revelation.
What about persecution, peril, or the sword? Only if we give in. But in themselves they can’t separate Christians from Christ. In Paul’s day persecution and peril were a daily reality, and he would himself give up his life for Christ thru the sword of martyrdom. That sword brought him to the fullness of union with Christ for which he had longed (cf. Phil 3:22-23).
In our day persecution and even martyrdom are still daily realities for believers in China, Pakistan, Egypt, Vietnam, and other places where churches are burned, Christians are assaulted, priests and bishops are arrested, converts face capital punishment.
But, Paul affirms, “in all these things we conquer overwhelmingly thru him who has loved us” (8:37). Christ has loved us, Christ has shared his Spirit with us, and Christ empowers us to face down any threat, any temptation, any trial that comes to us from the world of nature or from human malice. Threats, temptations, and trials not only don’t “separate us from the love of Christ,” but they unite us more intimately with him who was threatened by Pontius Pilate and the Sanhedrin, who was tempted by Satan, and who was tried by unimaginable corporal suffering, abandonment, and death. If we have suffered with him, we shall also be glorified with him (cf. Rom 8:17).
No, not even death can separate us from Christ’s love. Didn’t he die too? He died in the ultimate act of solidarity with the human race. And those who identify themselves with him by their verbal profession of faith and especially by their following his teachings—their lived profession of faith—will meet his love in the life to come and will be glorified by that love with the life of resurrection.
No unearthly power, no demon—no angel, principality, or any other creature, as Paul puts it (8:38-39)—can come between Christ Jesus and those whom he has chosen to be his own, and who have embraced him.
People and events of interest to the Salesian Family of the Eastern U.S., the blogger's homilies, and some of his apostolic and personal doings.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
Fr. Adelard "Del" Labonte, SDB
Fr. Adelard “Del” Labonté, SDB (1925-2011)
Fr. Adelard Joseph “Del” Labonté, SDB, died early on July 24, 2011, at St. Joseph Senior Residence in Woodbridge, N.J., at age 86. He had been ill for a short time and was accompanied in his last hours by the prayers and the presence of his sister Antoinette Vacca and members of his Salesian community from Orange, N.J.

The 14th of 15 children, Del Labonté was born to Emile and Alexina Dionne Labonté in L’Avenir, Quebec, on July 19, 1925, and baptized two days later in the village church of St. Pierre. When he was a boy the family moved to Providence, R.I., and became members of Our Lady of Lourdes Church, a "French parish." Del was confirmed there when he was 12.
At 14 he started high school at LaSalle Academy, but he dropped out in September 1941 to join the Navy. He saw action aboard the battleship Arkansas in support of the invasions of Normandy and southern France in June and August 1944, and the landings on Iwo Jima and Okinawa in February and April 1945—memories that remained vividly with him for the rest of his life.
After the war Del returned to LaSalle and graduated in June 1948. A year later he started a liberal arts course of studies at Providence College but left after a year to enter the Salesians at Don Bosco College in Newton, N.J., in July 1950. He wished to study for the priesthood but found the study of Latin, especially, too daunting. He did, however, fall in love with St. John Bosco and with Mary Help of Christians. He decided to stay with Don Bosco as a coadjutor brother.
Del completed his novitiate year in Newton in 1953-1954 and made his first profession of vows as a brother on Sept. 8, 1954. After a further year of formation he was sent to Holy Rosary Church in Birmingham, Ala., along with Fr. Aloysius Trifari and Bro. Frank Tilton, to inaugurate the Salesian work there. The SDB presence later expanded to take in St. John Bosco parish (originally named St. Clement). While the parish’s clergy changed, for 36 years Bro. Del stayed on, serving the young and the poor of the parishes and of the city’s Gate City and Woodlawn neighborhoods, well known for his charity and his piety.
Bro. Del would leave the rectory early in the morning and return late at night. On a regular basis he visited the sick in hospitals and the homebound, bringing Holy Communion to the Catholics and spiritual comfort to non-Catholics. He drove Fr. Patrick Corcoran, pastor from 1968 to 1991, to the hospitals or wherever else he had to go to celebrate Mass.
A fervent devotee of the Blessed Mother, Bro. Del established “Mary’s Hour,” at which groups of parishioners gathered to pray the Rosary and sing hymns—a practice still in vogue at Holy Rosary. He had a passion for roses, which he grew near the rectory and brought to Mary’s shrine in the church.
Long before Mother Angelica became famous, Bro. Del advocated her apostolate and distributed her printed material.
To this day, local Protestants sometimes refer to Holy Rosary Church as “Bro. Del’s.” He was noted for handing out food to the needy at the rectory or bringing it to their homes, day or night, and for paying the bills of the poor.
Sally Crockett, a member of the Saint John Bosco Parish when the Salesians staffed it, writes: “I am so sorry to hear of Father Del’s death. I worked with Father (Brother) Del for many years with the youth of Saint John Bosco and Holy Rosary parishes. My family and I have many, many fond memories of him. Such a saintly man and an inspiration.
Another Birmingham parishioner, Michael Crockett, remembers Father Del this way: “I wish I could remember all the things and places he took me every Saturday and Sunday and nearly every day in summer for close to five years when I was about 12-17 years old. He opened up a spiritual world and love of the poor and elderly that have remained with me to this day. I can’t say I’ve ever met anyone else like him whom I admire so much and hope to imitate in loving others. He is still remembered and loved by everyone in this whole diocese.”
But Bro. Del hadn’t given up on the desire to become a priest. When the liturgical and seminary changes brought by Vatican II meant that a seminarian no longer had to be proficient in Latin, he received another opportunity. In 1991 he was assigned to the pastoral team of Mary Help of Christians Church on E. 12th St. in Manhattan to give him a very different parochial experience and start his transition to a possible seminary experience.
After two years at 12th St., he was enrolled in Holy Apostles Seminary in Cromwell, Conn., where he spent four years studying theology, noted for both his piety and his dedication to studies. He was ordained to the priesthood at Mary Help of Christians on November 1, 1997, and assigned there for the remainder of the pastoral year as an assistant pastor.
In 1998 Fr. Del went to Don Bosco Tech in Paterson, where he served as a confessor for the students and a lively presence in the SDB community for four years. Following the school’s closure in 2002, he moved across town to St. Anthony’s Church to help with parish ministry and also to help with chaplaincy work for the Salesian Sisters.
Father Del’s superior at the Tech, Father Stephen Schenck, recalls: “I remember Del being a gentleman in all things, quick to serve anyone of whose need he became aware—from getting food, to helping carry a bag, to going to the store—whatever it was, Del was eager to serve.
“I remember him as a wonderful storyteller, or ‘raconteur.’ He could recall precise details of past events, and had an enormous vocabulary which he used exceedingly well. Phrases like, ‘Her voice had a delicate, charming timbre to it...’ fell easily from his lips. From anyone else they might have sounded rehearsed, but Del excelled in the adroit use of language, particularly when describing past events.”
In May 2004 Fr. Del suffered a serious stroke, which by the following year required him to move into Saint Mary’s Life Center, a nursing home in Orange, N.J., chosen in part because of its proximity to the community of candidates and young Salesians in formation (at Our Lady of the Valley Parish in Orange). As often as he could, he took part in community events and well as in events of the province community such as funerals, ordinations, and jubilee celebrations. The young SDBs and candidates enjoyed visiting him and helping him get out to events.
Bishop Luc Van Looy, SDB, stopped to chat with wheelchair-bound Fr. Del following the ordination Mass of Fr. Abe Feliciano in June 2006 at St. Anthony's Church in Paterson.
Gradually Fr. Del’s condition worsened, however, so that last February he moved to St. Joseph Senior Residence in order to have more appropriate care, including that of a Salesian chaplain at the residence.
His local superior, Fr. Stephen Leake, SDB, said, “Fr. Del will be missed for his great kindness, infectious joy, and deep devotion.”
Fr. Del was waked at Our Lady of the Valley Church in Orange on Tuesday, July 26, and the Mass of Christian Burial was celebrated that evening. He was buried in the Salesian Cemetery in Goshen, N.Y., the following morning.
Fr. Adelard Joseph “Del” Labonté, SDB, died early on July 24, 2011, at St. Joseph Senior Residence in Woodbridge, N.J., at age 86. He had been ill for a short time and was accompanied in his last hours by the prayers and the presence of his sister Antoinette Vacca and members of his Salesian community from Orange, N.J.
The 14th of 15 children, Del Labonté was born to Emile and Alexina Dionne Labonté in L’Avenir, Quebec, on July 19, 1925, and baptized two days later in the village church of St. Pierre. When he was a boy the family moved to Providence, R.I., and became members of Our Lady of Lourdes Church, a "French parish." Del was confirmed there when he was 12.
At 14 he started high school at LaSalle Academy, but he dropped out in September 1941 to join the Navy. He saw action aboard the battleship Arkansas in support of the invasions of Normandy and southern France in June and August 1944, and the landings on Iwo Jima and Okinawa in February and April 1945—memories that remained vividly with him for the rest of his life.
After the war Del returned to LaSalle and graduated in June 1948. A year later he started a liberal arts course of studies at Providence College but left after a year to enter the Salesians at Don Bosco College in Newton, N.J., in July 1950. He wished to study for the priesthood but found the study of Latin, especially, too daunting. He did, however, fall in love with St. John Bosco and with Mary Help of Christians. He decided to stay with Don Bosco as a coadjutor brother.
Del completed his novitiate year in Newton in 1953-1954 and made his first profession of vows as a brother on Sept. 8, 1954. After a further year of formation he was sent to Holy Rosary Church in Birmingham, Ala., along with Fr. Aloysius Trifari and Bro. Frank Tilton, to inaugurate the Salesian work there. The SDB presence later expanded to take in St. John Bosco parish (originally named St. Clement). While the parish’s clergy changed, for 36 years Bro. Del stayed on, serving the young and the poor of the parishes and of the city’s Gate City and Woodlawn neighborhoods, well known for his charity and his piety.
Bro. Del would leave the rectory early in the morning and return late at night. On a regular basis he visited the sick in hospitals and the homebound, bringing Holy Communion to the Catholics and spiritual comfort to non-Catholics. He drove Fr. Patrick Corcoran, pastor from 1968 to 1991, to the hospitals or wherever else he had to go to celebrate Mass.
A fervent devotee of the Blessed Mother, Bro. Del established “Mary’s Hour,” at which groups of parishioners gathered to pray the Rosary and sing hymns—a practice still in vogue at Holy Rosary. He had a passion for roses, which he grew near the rectory and brought to Mary’s shrine in the church.
Long before Mother Angelica became famous, Bro. Del advocated her apostolate and distributed her printed material.
To this day, local Protestants sometimes refer to Holy Rosary Church as “Bro. Del’s.” He was noted for handing out food to the needy at the rectory or bringing it to their homes, day or night, and for paying the bills of the poor.
Sally Crockett, a member of the Saint John Bosco Parish when the Salesians staffed it, writes: “I am so sorry to hear of Father Del’s death. I worked with Father (Brother) Del for many years with the youth of Saint John Bosco and Holy Rosary parishes. My family and I have many, many fond memories of him. Such a saintly man and an inspiration.
Another Birmingham parishioner, Michael Crockett, remembers Father Del this way: “I wish I could remember all the things and places he took me every Saturday and Sunday and nearly every day in summer for close to five years when I was about 12-17 years old. He opened up a spiritual world and love of the poor and elderly that have remained with me to this day. I can’t say I’ve ever met anyone else like him whom I admire so much and hope to imitate in loving others. He is still remembered and loved by everyone in this whole diocese.”
But Bro. Del hadn’t given up on the desire to become a priest. When the liturgical and seminary changes brought by Vatican II meant that a seminarian no longer had to be proficient in Latin, he received another opportunity. In 1991 he was assigned to the pastoral team of Mary Help of Christians Church on E. 12th St. in Manhattan to give him a very different parochial experience and start his transition to a possible seminary experience.
After two years at 12th St., he was enrolled in Holy Apostles Seminary in Cromwell, Conn., where he spent four years studying theology, noted for both his piety and his dedication to studies. He was ordained to the priesthood at Mary Help of Christians on November 1, 1997, and assigned there for the remainder of the pastoral year as an assistant pastor.
In 1998 Fr. Del went to Don Bosco Tech in Paterson, where he served as a confessor for the students and a lively presence in the SDB community for four years. Following the school’s closure in 2002, he moved across town to St. Anthony’s Church to help with parish ministry and also to help with chaplaincy work for the Salesian Sisters.
Father Del’s superior at the Tech, Father Stephen Schenck, recalls: “I remember Del being a gentleman in all things, quick to serve anyone of whose need he became aware—from getting food, to helping carry a bag, to going to the store—whatever it was, Del was eager to serve.
“I remember him as a wonderful storyteller, or ‘raconteur.’ He could recall precise details of past events, and had an enormous vocabulary which he used exceedingly well. Phrases like, ‘Her voice had a delicate, charming timbre to it...’ fell easily from his lips. From anyone else they might have sounded rehearsed, but Del excelled in the adroit use of language, particularly when describing past events.”
In May 2004 Fr. Del suffered a serious stroke, which by the following year required him to move into Saint Mary’s Life Center, a nursing home in Orange, N.J., chosen in part because of its proximity to the community of candidates and young Salesians in formation (at Our Lady of the Valley Parish in Orange). As often as he could, he took part in community events and well as in events of the province community such as funerals, ordinations, and jubilee celebrations. The young SDBs and candidates enjoyed visiting him and helping him get out to events.
Gradually Fr. Del’s condition worsened, however, so that last February he moved to St. Joseph Senior Residence in order to have more appropriate care, including that of a Salesian chaplain at the residence.
His local superior, Fr. Stephen Leake, SDB, said, “Fr. Del will be missed for his great kindness, infectious joy, and deep devotion.”
Fr. Del was waked at Our Lady of the Valley Church in Orange on Tuesday, July 26, and the Mass of Christian Burial was celebrated that evening. He was buried in the Salesian Cemetery in Goshen, N.Y., the following morning.
We Don't Fight in the Back Seat Any More!
And We Don't Fight
in the Back Seat Any More!
Any parent who's every transported 2 or more siblings by car for any great distance knows the routine. Start arguing, whining, or poking each other after 10 minutes or so....
Imagine family vacations before the age of the Interstate, when everything was so much further away, at least in terms of hours needed to get there.
3 Mendl kids weren't any different on those 1950s 3-day drives from Tampa to Long Island to visit family, and back.
The family get-togethers are much more serene these days. Even Rita's kids have stopped the squabbling--pretty much.
We got together last weekend to help Rita celebrate a milestone birthday.
in the Back Seat Any More!
Your humble blogger, brother Chris, sister Rita
Any parent who's every transported 2 or more siblings by car for any great distance knows the routine. Start arguing, whining, or poking each other after 10 minutes or so....
Imagine family vacations before the age of the Interstate, when everything was so much further away, at least in terms of hours needed to get there.
3 Mendl kids weren't any different on those 1950s 3-day drives from Tampa to Long Island to visit family, and back.
The family get-togethers are much more serene these days. Even Rita's kids have stopped the squabbling--pretty much.
We got together last weekend to help Rita celebrate a milestone birthday.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Volunteering to Serve
Volunteering to Serve
This week Salesian Missions, thru the Salesian Lay Missioners program, has been providing orientation to 14 new volunteers, most of them young (like right out of college) but a few apparently well beyond that. They're getting about a week of intercultural and other aspects of life in the missions, together with some young people from at least one other sponsoring organization, at Maryknoll.
That will be followed by a week or 10 days of experiencing Salesian youth ministry, and practicing it, at the summer day camp at our 2 Port Chester parishes, Holy Rosary and Corpus Christi. Finally, the new SLMs will make a 6-day spiritual retreat, together with about 20 SDBs who happen to making that particular retreat; they'll get some more theoretical orientation at the same time and complete on some of their final paperwork. On Aug. 6 Fr. Tom Dunne will commission them for their missions.
This morning I had the privilege of going up to Maryknoll to offer Mass for the SLMs and other trainees and then being available to them for Reconciliation.
Here's a photo of our 14 generous folks taken right after Mass. Most of them had their eyes open by then!
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Homily for 16th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Homily for the
16th Sunday of Ordinary Time
[2] “Building Prayer Into Busy Lives,” CNY, July 14, 2011, p. 35.
16th Sunday of Ordinary Time
July 17, 2011
Rom 8: 26-27
Ursulines, Willow Dr., N.R.
“The Spirit comes to the aid of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought” (Rom 8: 26).
When the apostles wanted to learn how to pray, it was easy for them to turn to Jesus and ask him to teach them. And Jesus gave them that most basic of all prayers which we call the Lord’s Prayer.
In the physical absence of Jesus, we can and do still use his prayer. But often we want more. We may be unsure of what to pray for, or we may suffer interminable distractions, or we may want some new formula that’s a little less rote, or we may want to be able to put more heart into what we say to God. There are so many ways in which we feel our prayer to be inadequate, so that “we do not know how to pray as we ought.”
There’s an old Eastern European Jewish story that might encourage us:
Rom 8: 26-27
Ursulines, Willow Dr., N.R.
“The Spirit comes to the aid of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought” (Rom 8: 26).
When the apostles wanted to learn how to pray, it was easy for them to turn to Jesus and ask him to teach them. And Jesus gave them that most basic of all prayers which we call the Lord’s Prayer.
In the physical absence of Jesus, we can and do still use his prayer. But often we want more. We may be unsure of what to pray for, or we may suffer interminable distractions, or we may want some new formula that’s a little less rote, or we may want to be able to put more heart into what we say to God. There are so many ways in which we feel our prayer to be inadequate, so that “we do not know how to pray as we ought.”
There’s an old Eastern European Jewish story that might encourage us:
When the great Rabbi Israel Baal Shem Tov saw misfortunate threatening the Jews, it was his custom to go into a certain part of the forest to meditate. There he would light a fire, say a prayer, and the miracle would be accomplished and the misfortune averted.
Later, when his disciple, the celebrated Magid of Mezritch, had occasion, for the same reason, to say the prayer, he would go to the same place in the forest and say: “Master of the Universe, listen! I do not know how to light the fire, but I am still able to say the prayer.” And again, the miracle would be accomplished.
Still later, Rabbi Moshe-Leib of Sasov, in order to save his people once more, would go into the forest and say: “I do not know how to light the fire, I do not know the prayer, but I know the place, and this must be sufficient.” Once again, a miracle.
Then it fell to Rabbi Israel of Rizhyn to overcome misfortune. Sitting in his armchair, his head in his hands, he spoke to God: “I am unable to light the fire and I do not know the prayer; I cannot even find the place in the forest. All I can do is to tell the story, and this must be sufficient.” And it was sufficient.[1]
It’s a story of God’s sufficiency when our own knowledge or resources are insufficient. It’s a story of grace, if you will. It’s a story of “the Spirit coming to the aid of our weakness.”
In the Our Father we pray that God’s will may be done on earth as it is in heaven. But we seldom know what that will is. (Stephen Vincent Benet’s epic poem John Brown’s Body has a magnificent scene in which Lincoln struggles to discern that amid the carnage of the Civil War.) Too often we try to get God to accommodate himself to our will. Praying in the Spirit would have us praying like Jesus in the Garden: “Not my will but yours be done” (Matt 26:39). We’d leave ourselves open to the apparent frustration of our own hopes and desires.
We all know that St. Monica prayed for years and years for her son’s conversion. When he decided to move from Carthage to Rome in order to pursue his worldly ambitions, she prayed that he’d change his mind or that something would prevent his sailing to Italy, where she was afraid his faith and morals would meet complete shipwreck. God ignored her pleas, and Augustine sailed to Rome. Apparently that was because God had other plans, which became evident when the young rhetoric teacher moved on to Milan—at that time the home of the imperial court and so the place for an ambitious young man to be—and Augustine fell under the influence of Milan’s talented and holy bishop, Ambrose. So Monica’s more fundamental prayer, that her son be converted, was heard altho at least one of her intermediate prayer, that he stay in Africa, was not.
So our prayer, if it’s really prayer and not just the projection of our own egos, has to rely upon the ultimate wisdom of God, which is to say, on the Holy Spirit.
Such reliance is the best possible way of praying. “The Spirit himself intercedes with inexpressible groanings” (8:26). What we don’t know how to pray for, or what we can’t find the right words for, the Spirit knows and puts before the Father—no words necessary. The longing of our hearts, the Spirit carries to the Father—whether our hearts are heavy or light, whether they are bursting with praise or collapsed in anguish, whether we need forgiveness or guidance.
Of course we can use words too. In her column in the current issue of Catholic New York, Mary DeTurris Poust recounts how one afternoon she “was complaining about some minor problem,” and Chiara, her five-year-old daughter, “said, ‘Why don’t you just talk to God?’ Chiara one day had overheard her “frazzled” mom “talking out loud to God” and “picked up on the fact” that Mom often talks to God “not in traditional prayer form but as if I am talking on the phone with a friend—when I’m stressed.” Without intending it, Mary had taught Chiara a wonderful way to pray—just talk to God like he’s your “good friend, someone who will always listen.”[2]
Because God is our friend. Jesus assures us that we’re his friends, and he’s given us his Spirit to reassure us. Just a few verses before the passage that’s our reading today, Paul tells the Christians of Rome that the gift of the Holy Spirit enables them to address God as Abba because, in giving them Jesus’ Spirit, he has adopted them as his own (8:15). He’s Dad; Jesus is friend and brother. If that weren’t enuf for them to read our hearts, the Spirit takes care of whatever more’s needed: “And the one who searches hearts [the Father] knows what is the intention of the Spirit, because he [the Spirit] intercedes for the holy ones [those made holy because he dwells in their hearts] according to God’s will” (8:27). The Spirit of Jesus, deep within us, makes our prayer to the Father, uttering what we can’t because our human nature is too ignorant or too frail or too distracted or too overwhelmed by our sins or not bold enuf to come to the Father and demand his attention.
What is required of us for prayer is only 2 things: 1st, that we want to pray, that we make the effort, that we put in the time, that we give God a piece of our schedules; and 2d, that we really want to be open to him, to his will, to his desire to make us holy and bring us into his world—not the other way around. When Paul speaks of “the intention of the Spirit” and of “how we ought to pray,” he’s speaking in the context of our eternal destiny: “the glory to be revealed for us” (8:18), “creation set free from slavery to corruption and sharing in the glorious freedom of the children of God” (8:21), “the redemption of our bodies” (8:23), our hope of salvation (8:24). The Spirit of Jesus most gladly intercedes for us, adds his “inexpressible groanings” to the “groanings of creation in its labor pains even until now” (8:22), that we might be saved despite all our weakness.
In the Our Father we pray that God’s will may be done on earth as it is in heaven. But we seldom know what that will is. (Stephen Vincent Benet’s epic poem John Brown’s Body has a magnificent scene in which Lincoln struggles to discern that amid the carnage of the Civil War.) Too often we try to get God to accommodate himself to our will. Praying in the Spirit would have us praying like Jesus in the Garden: “Not my will but yours be done” (Matt 26:39). We’d leave ourselves open to the apparent frustration of our own hopes and desires.
We all know that St. Monica prayed for years and years for her son’s conversion. When he decided to move from Carthage to Rome in order to pursue his worldly ambitions, she prayed that he’d change his mind or that something would prevent his sailing to Italy, where she was afraid his faith and morals would meet complete shipwreck. God ignored her pleas, and Augustine sailed to Rome. Apparently that was because God had other plans, which became evident when the young rhetoric teacher moved on to Milan—at that time the home of the imperial court and so the place for an ambitious young man to be—and Augustine fell under the influence of Milan’s talented and holy bishop, Ambrose. So Monica’s more fundamental prayer, that her son be converted, was heard altho at least one of her intermediate prayer, that he stay in Africa, was not.
So our prayer, if it’s really prayer and not just the projection of our own egos, has to rely upon the ultimate wisdom of God, which is to say, on the Holy Spirit.

Such reliance is the best possible way of praying. “The Spirit himself intercedes with inexpressible groanings” (8:26). What we don’t know how to pray for, or what we can’t find the right words for, the Spirit knows and puts before the Father—no words necessary. The longing of our hearts, the Spirit carries to the Father—whether our hearts are heavy or light, whether they are bursting with praise or collapsed in anguish, whether we need forgiveness or guidance.
Of course we can use words too. In her column in the current issue of Catholic New York, Mary DeTurris Poust recounts how one afternoon she “was complaining about some minor problem,” and Chiara, her five-year-old daughter, “said, ‘Why don’t you just talk to God?’ Chiara one day had overheard her “frazzled” mom “talking out loud to God” and “picked up on the fact” that Mom often talks to God “not in traditional prayer form but as if I am talking on the phone with a friend—when I’m stressed.” Without intending it, Mary had taught Chiara a wonderful way to pray—just talk to God like he’s your “good friend, someone who will always listen.”[2]
Because God is our friend. Jesus assures us that we’re his friends, and he’s given us his Spirit to reassure us. Just a few verses before the passage that’s our reading today, Paul tells the Christians of Rome that the gift of the Holy Spirit enables them to address God as Abba because, in giving them Jesus’ Spirit, he has adopted them as his own (8:15). He’s Dad; Jesus is friend and brother. If that weren’t enuf for them to read our hearts, the Spirit takes care of whatever more’s needed: “And the one who searches hearts [the Father] knows what is the intention of the Spirit, because he [the Spirit] intercedes for the holy ones [those made holy because he dwells in their hearts] according to God’s will” (8:27). The Spirit of Jesus, deep within us, makes our prayer to the Father, uttering what we can’t because our human nature is too ignorant or too frail or too distracted or too overwhelmed by our sins or not bold enuf to come to the Father and demand his attention.
What is required of us for prayer is only 2 things: 1st, that we want to pray, that we make the effort, that we put in the time, that we give God a piece of our schedules; and 2d, that we really want to be open to him, to his will, to his desire to make us holy and bring us into his world—not the other way around. When Paul speaks of “the intention of the Spirit” and of “how we ought to pray,” he’s speaking in the context of our eternal destiny: “the glory to be revealed for us” (8:18), “creation set free from slavery to corruption and sharing in the glorious freedom of the children of God” (8:21), “the redemption of our bodies” (8:23), our hope of salvation (8:24). The Spirit of Jesus most gladly intercedes for us, adds his “inexpressible groanings” to the “groanings of creation in its labor pains even until now” (8:22), that we might be saved despite all our weakness.
[1] Recounted by Brian Cavanaugh, TOR, The Sower’s Seeds: 120 Inspiring Stories for Preaching, Teaching and Public Speaking (Mahwah: Paulist, 2004), pp. 14-15
[2] “Building Prayer Into Busy Lives,” CNY, July 14, 2011, p. 35.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Homily for 15th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Homily for the
15th Sunday in Ordinary Time
July 10, 2011
Matt 13: 1-9
Christian Brothers, Iona College, N.R.
“Jesus spoke to them at length in parables, saying: ‘A sower went out to sow’” (Matt 13: 3).
The Indians near Plimoth Plantation helped our socio-cultural ancestors to survive by teaching them to plant corn efficiently: one kernel to a small hole, covered over, and a fish laid upon it as fertilizer. That method worked marvelously, assuring the Pilgrims a bountiful harvest, and survival.
But that method doesn’t work with most grains and isn’t how people sowed their fields of wheat, barley, rye, and oats for thousands of years. They did just what Jesus pictures for us in his parable today—profligately scattered handfuls of seed broadside as they walked up and down their fields—as you might observe a landscaper today doing with grass seed.
Sower with Setting Sun by Van Gogh (and h/t to the Deacon)
By that method lots of seed is lost, even today, landing on rock, being eaten by birds, being trampled underfoot, and in the case of a peasant farmer’s field, being overrun and choked out by weeds. Yet, enuf seed lands on good soil and, with proper moisture, it grows and produces more grain than the farmer began with, so that he can harvest food for the season ahead and still set aside seed grain for the next planting.
Jesus’ parable is a metaphor for God’s profligately strewing his word among the human race. Not every person is receptive, to be sure, but there’s still a bountiful harvest of hearts for the Divine Farmer. In the 1st reading the prophet Isaiah spoke of the effectiveness of God’s word: whatever God has decreed will be carried out. Whatever grace he has sown among human beings will bear its fruit in salvation.
We are some of those human beings among whom God is profligately sowing the word of his grace. Sometimes are hearts are stony and non-receptive. Sometimes our hearts tell us, “This seed is good, and I want to take it in and let it grow”; but—like youthful Augustine—we also want to cling to the weeds and thorns of our passions, our worldly comforts, our inertia, and we don’t nurture the seed and let it grow up.
Fortunately for us, God isn’t easily put off. Just as he kept coming for Augustine, he keeps after us, keeps strewing the word in our direction. If we can just give that word a little soil in which to sink a root, God will do the rest: “so shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; my word shall not return to me void but shall do my will, achieving the end for which I sent it” (Is 55:11). So let us not be discouraged by our lack of spiritual progress, by our repeated failures to practice this virtue or that, by our having to confess the same sins over and over. Have faith in the power of God’s word to bear fruit in you, to convert you ever so slowly into his disciple.
There’s another way in which this parable carries meaning for us. Scripture commentator Megan McKenna tells of that way in another parable:*
And the point of that little parable is that we who follow Jesus also have to sow his word. It’s hard work, and the results don’t show immediately. Sometimes our efforts to be peacemakers, to reconcile, to improve the physical or the social environment, to get someone to believe in a better future for himself, to round up lost souls for the Lord seem to be getting nowhere, bearing no fruit. But we have to keep trying, keep strewing the word of God all around us by what we say, even more by how we live.
Only in the great harvest at the end of time will we see what God has done—in our own hearts and in the hearts of countless men and women whose lives we’ve touched in some fashion.
* Quoted by Fr. Joe Robinson, Guiding Light: Steadfast to the Son. Cycle A (China, Ind.: Shepherds of Christ, 2010), pp. 116-117, with some minor edits. It’s not clear whether the last paragraph that I quote comes from Ms. McKenna or Fr. Robinson.
15th Sunday in Ordinary Time
July 10, 2011
Matt 13: 1-9
Christian Brothers, Iona College, N.R.
“Jesus spoke to them at length in parables, saying: ‘A sower went out to sow’” (Matt 13: 3).
The Indians near Plimoth Plantation helped our socio-cultural ancestors to survive by teaching them to plant corn efficiently: one kernel to a small hole, covered over, and a fish laid upon it as fertilizer. That method worked marvelously, assuring the Pilgrims a bountiful harvest, and survival.
But that method doesn’t work with most grains and isn’t how people sowed their fields of wheat, barley, rye, and oats for thousands of years. They did just what Jesus pictures for us in his parable today—profligately scattered handfuls of seed broadside as they walked up and down their fields—as you might observe a landscaper today doing with grass seed.
Sower with Setting Sun by Van Gogh (and h/t to the Deacon)Jesus’ parable is a metaphor for God’s profligately strewing his word among the human race. Not every person is receptive, to be sure, but there’s still a bountiful harvest of hearts for the Divine Farmer. In the 1st reading the prophet Isaiah spoke of the effectiveness of God’s word: whatever God has decreed will be carried out. Whatever grace he has sown among human beings will bear its fruit in salvation.
We are some of those human beings among whom God is profligately sowing the word of his grace. Sometimes are hearts are stony and non-receptive. Sometimes our hearts tell us, “This seed is good, and I want to take it in and let it grow”; but—like youthful Augustine—we also want to cling to the weeds and thorns of our passions, our worldly comforts, our inertia, and we don’t nurture the seed and let it grow up.
Fortunately for us, God isn’t easily put off. Just as he kept coming for Augustine, he keeps after us, keeps strewing the word in our direction. If we can just give that word a little soil in which to sink a root, God will do the rest: “so shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; my word shall not return to me void but shall do my will, achieving the end for which I sent it” (Is 55:11). So let us not be discouraged by our lack of spiritual progress, by our repeated failures to practice this virtue or that, by our having to confess the same sins over and over. Have faith in the power of God’s word to bear fruit in you, to convert you ever so slowly into his disciple.
There’s another way in which this parable carries meaning for us. Scripture commentator Megan McKenna tells of that way in another parable:*
There was a woman who was depressed over the state of the world. She longed for love among her family and friends, peace among all people, compassion for the poor and vulnerable. There were problems everywhere as she saw so much selfishness, greed, hatred, lack of moral values.
One day she came upon a little shop. She walked in and was surprised to see someone behind the counter who reminded her of Jesus. She couldn’t believe it really was Jesus, but the similarity was so striking that she just had to go to him and ask: “Excuse me, are you Jesus?”
“I am.”
“Do you work here?”
“No, I’m the owner.”
“What do you sell here?”
“Well, I really don’t sell anything. It’s all free. I have here just about anything you might want. You’re welcome to walk around the aisles and see what you might be interested in. Make a list of all the things you want and bring it back to me. I’ll see what I can do for you.”
She was amazed at what she saw on the shelves: peace on earth, food to feed the hungry, clean air and water, warm clothing for the poor, forgiveness. The woman compiled a long list and brought it back to Jesus.
When Jesus looked at all the items she had written down, he smiled and said, “No problem.” He bent down behind the counter and ran his finger thru several boxes. He then stood up and laid out a series of small envelopes for the woman.
“What are these?” she asked.
“Seed packets,” Jesus replied. “This is a catalog store.”
“You mean I don’t get the finished product?” she asked.
“No,” Jesus said. “Just take these seeds home, plant them, nurture them, help them grow, and you’ll be quite pleased with the results.”
She said, “Oh!” and left the store without taking anything with her.
Most of us want God to solve problems for us overnite, and when he does, that’s great. But mostly he gives us the means and the help we need and calls us to have faith and patience.
And the point of that little parable is that we who follow Jesus also have to sow his word. It’s hard work, and the results don’t show immediately. Sometimes our efforts to be peacemakers, to reconcile, to improve the physical or the social environment, to get someone to believe in a better future for himself, to round up lost souls for the Lord seem to be getting nowhere, bearing no fruit. But we have to keep trying, keep strewing the word of God all around us by what we say, even more by how we live.
Only in the great harvest at the end of time will we see what God has done—in our own hearts and in the hearts of countless men and women whose lives we’ve touched in some fashion.
* Quoted by Fr. Joe Robinson, Guiding Light: Steadfast to the Son. Cycle A (China, Ind.: Shepherds of Christ, 2010), pp. 116-117, with some minor edits. It’s not clear whether the last paragraph that I quote comes from Ms. McKenna or Fr. Robinson.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Homily for 14th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Homily for the
14th Sunday in Ordinary Time
14th Sunday in Ordinary Time
July 8, 1984
Matt 11: 25-30
Holy Rosary, Birmingham, Ala.
St. John Bosco, B’ham
Once again, last weekend (Sat. eve at Willow Towers) I preached without a written text; and once again I have recourse to an oldie for those who may be following the blog.
Perhaps you’ve heard the story of the fellow who kept complaining to God about how heavy was the cross he had to carry thru life. One day St. Peter came to him and said, “I want to take you to the storeroom and let you look for another cross to carry.” So they went to a huge warehouse where thousands of crosses were kept for use by all of mankind. St. Peter told the complainer, “Put your cross down over there, and go look around till you find one you like.”
So the fellow started rummaging thru these thousands of crosses. Some he found impossibly heavy, and some shamefully light. He’d hoist them onto his back and try a few steps, like you take a couple of steps in a new pair of shoes. Well, after a couple of hours of all this, he finally found a cross that seemed to be just right for him, neither too heavy nor too light nor too long. He brought it over to St. Peter and said, “I think I’ve found one that suits me. What do you think?” “Well,” said St. Peter, “I think you’ve found the one you brought in here.”
In today’s gospel, Jesus says, “Come to me, all you who are weary and find life burdensome, and I will refresh you” (Matt 11:28).
Jesus addresses his words to every one of us. From time to time all of us are overwhelmed by life’s problems; we think we can’t handle our crosses. No doubt there are some of us whom these problems nearly crush.
We have to admit that earning a living, raising the kids, cleaning the house, keeping up the yard, studying, and visiting the in-laws all begin to grind on us. Serious illness in the family, or a death, can devastate us. Perhaps unemployment drags some of us down. The guilt of our sins is an awesome weight. Obviously there’s no shortage of possible problems I could list, problems that are real burdens for someone.
Jesus was certainly familiar with the burdens of daily life—even with burdens that were more than routine. When he was small, his family were refugees in a foreign country. His foster-father was a skilled craftsman in a small country town and may well have had trouble finding enuf work. His mother had to go to the village well at least once a day to draw water for cooking and cleaning, besides making, mending, and washing clothes, buying food. And of course keeping tabs on little Jesus and then worrying about him, the way mothers do, as he grew but didn’t seem to be settling down into normal village routine. We speculate that St. Joseph must have died when Jesus was a young man because Joseph isn’t mentioned in the gospels after the temple incident when Jesus was 12.
In his own ministry, Jesus had to contend with the misunderstanding not only of many religious leaders but of his own family; quite plainly, they thought he was crazy (Matt 3:21). Jesus’ disciples, his closest friends, failed to grasp what he was trying to teach them about the kingdom of God, humility, forgiveness, and so on. Jesus came into daily contact with life’s misery: with serious illness, death at an early age, tyrannical government, heavy taxation, poverty, social discrimination, religious hypocrisy, illiteracy, the problems of subsistence farming on rocky ground under a blistering sun, and the burden of sin and guilt.

So Jesus’ words, “Come to me, all you who are weary,” should have had a universal appeal in 30 A.D., and they came from a man who was familiar with weariness and burden.
He promised to refresh those who accepted his invitation. He promised them a yoke with which to haul their burdens, not a heavy yoke for a heavy burden, like oxen dragging a plow or turning a millstone, but a yoke that is easy and burden that is light (Matt 11:30).
What is the yoke of Jesus? He hints at it when he says, “Take my yoke upon your shoulders and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart.” Gentleness and humility are the yoke he offers us, the yoke that refreshes our souls, that gives us rest.
Gentleness and humility make us patient with what we cannot control in life. They make us understanding of the faults of other people—and even of our own weaknesses and sins. They enable us to admit our sinfulness and seek forgiveness. They remind us that we don’t have to solve our problems alone, but we are joined to Jesus; it’s his yoke we wear, and our burdens have become his. They remind us that the problems, even the complete disasters of life, are only temporary, that is, limited to time, to this world. But the kingdom of God is eternal; it is our real home. In it are no poverty, no sickness, no death, no emotional devastation—only the everlasting love of God for us and us for God and one another.
The cross, the yoke, the burden we carry in life is inevitable. You’ve never known a person who didn’t have problems. But our burden becomes lighter when we see it as the yoke of Jesus or as a share in his cross. For then he is carrying it with us. “Come to me, all you who are weary and find life burdensome, and I will refresh you.”
Matt 11: 25-30
Holy Rosary, Birmingham, Ala.
St. John Bosco, B’ham
Once again, last weekend (Sat. eve at Willow Towers) I preached without a written text; and once again I have recourse to an oldie for those who may be following the blog.
Perhaps you’ve heard the story of the fellow who kept complaining to God about how heavy was the cross he had to carry thru life. One day St. Peter came to him and said, “I want to take you to the storeroom and let you look for another cross to carry.” So they went to a huge warehouse where thousands of crosses were kept for use by all of mankind. St. Peter told the complainer, “Put your cross down over there, and go look around till you find one you like.”
So the fellow started rummaging thru these thousands of crosses. Some he found impossibly heavy, and some shamefully light. He’d hoist them onto his back and try a few steps, like you take a couple of steps in a new pair of shoes. Well, after a couple of hours of all this, he finally found a cross that seemed to be just right for him, neither too heavy nor too light nor too long. He brought it over to St. Peter and said, “I think I’ve found one that suits me. What do you think?” “Well,” said St. Peter, “I think you’ve found the one you brought in here.”
In today’s gospel, Jesus says, “Come to me, all you who are weary and find life burdensome, and I will refresh you” (Matt 11:28).
Jesus addresses his words to every one of us. From time to time all of us are overwhelmed by life’s problems; we think we can’t handle our crosses. No doubt there are some of us whom these problems nearly crush.
We have to admit that earning a living, raising the kids, cleaning the house, keeping up the yard, studying, and visiting the in-laws all begin to grind on us. Serious illness in the family, or a death, can devastate us. Perhaps unemployment drags some of us down. The guilt of our sins is an awesome weight. Obviously there’s no shortage of possible problems I could list, problems that are real burdens for someone.
Jesus was certainly familiar with the burdens of daily life—even with burdens that were more than routine. When he was small, his family were refugees in a foreign country. His foster-father was a skilled craftsman in a small country town and may well have had trouble finding enuf work. His mother had to go to the village well at least once a day to draw water for cooking and cleaning, besides making, mending, and washing clothes, buying food. And of course keeping tabs on little Jesus and then worrying about him, the way mothers do, as he grew but didn’t seem to be settling down into normal village routine. We speculate that St. Joseph must have died when Jesus was a young man because Joseph isn’t mentioned in the gospels after the temple incident when Jesus was 12.
In his own ministry, Jesus had to contend with the misunderstanding not only of many religious leaders but of his own family; quite plainly, they thought he was crazy (Matt 3:21). Jesus’ disciples, his closest friends, failed to grasp what he was trying to teach them about the kingdom of God, humility, forgiveness, and so on. Jesus came into daily contact with life’s misery: with serious illness, death at an early age, tyrannical government, heavy taxation, poverty, social discrimination, religious hypocrisy, illiteracy, the problems of subsistence farming on rocky ground under a blistering sun, and the burden of sin and guilt.
So Jesus’ words, “Come to me, all you who are weary,” should have had a universal appeal in 30 A.D., and they came from a man who was familiar with weariness and burden.
He promised to refresh those who accepted his invitation. He promised them a yoke with which to haul their burdens, not a heavy yoke for a heavy burden, like oxen dragging a plow or turning a millstone, but a yoke that is easy and burden that is light (Matt 11:30).
What is the yoke of Jesus? He hints at it when he says, “Take my yoke upon your shoulders and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart.” Gentleness and humility are the yoke he offers us, the yoke that refreshes our souls, that gives us rest.
Gentleness and humility make us patient with what we cannot control in life. They make us understanding of the faults of other people—and even of our own weaknesses and sins. They enable us to admit our sinfulness and seek forgiveness. They remind us that we don’t have to solve our problems alone, but we are joined to Jesus; it’s his yoke we wear, and our burdens have become his. They remind us that the problems, even the complete disasters of life, are only temporary, that is, limited to time, to this world. But the kingdom of God is eternal; it is our real home. In it are no poverty, no sickness, no death, no emotional devastation—only the everlasting love of God for us and us for God and one another.
The cross, the yoke, the burden we carry in life is inevitable. You’ve never known a person who didn’t have problems. But our burden becomes lighter when we see it as the yoke of Jesus or as a share in his cross. For then he is carrying it with us. “Come to me, all you who are weary and find life burdensome, and I will refresh you.”
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
A Priest with the Heart of Don Bosco
A Priest with the Heart
of Don Bosco
Homily of Bishop Luc Van Looy, SDB
Ordination of Frs. Matt DeGance and Mike Leschinsky
July 2, 2011. Our Lady of the Valley Church, Orange, N.J.
Don Bosco was a priest of a very different kind. He learned from Don [Father] Cafasso that even young people in prison were not really bad. He decided to keep them off the streets and give them a good education. Education for him was at the same time faith-education. He renewed the catechetical system in such a way that catechism was not just the teaching of doctrine, but the witnessing presence of the priest or catechist. He brought faith to society, and the living environment of the young to the Church.
When Jesus asked the disciples to go out to the villages and proclaim the Good News, to cure the sick, he was aware these men had little understood his teaching and the purpose of God’s sending him into the world. So Don Bosco gave great responsibility to young lads over others, engaging them in the educational and pastoral system of the Oratory of Valdocco.
He was a priest, always and everywhere. And a humble but convinced, poor but caring priest. Maybe in these times of the Church in which we are living we need to combine poverty and courage: poor by choice, and daring by conviction. These are two gifts we all should ask for our priests and deacons, and in fact for all Christians. To be poor today we will go against the mainstream. Also daring to speak about the Gospel and continue to tell the story of Jesus of Nazareth needs courage and may not always be welcome. The man and woman in the street does not ask for our message; maybe many are afraid to recognize for themselves that deep in their heart they crave for the mystery, for the transcendent, for what cannot be seen or touched or measured.
Our young people of today need priests who open the door to faith, to spirituality, to trustworthy relationships. So many are afraid to engage themselves with others, and especially to engage themselves for life in any value and witness-oriented lifestyle. A priest today is not in the first place an organizer, a director or coordinator—God bless those who are—but first and foremost we need inspirers; more than teachers, we need witnesses of faith, said Paul VI. A priest today listens to God and to people. His first duty is to become a disciple. The only way to become a teacher and a witness is to begin with discipleship. If you want to give water to your garden, it is better to keep a receptacle full so it can overflow, rather than to use a hose or a plastic pipe. First you need to fill yourself with God and Gospel, with Jesus and God’s love; then your witness will be credible.
For this the priest has the Eucharist, day after day, to grow totally in the spirit of Christ. The Eucharist is his way of proclaiming the Word, of commenting on Christ and not himself, of breaking the bread and shedding the wine as a sign of his own service to the people in Christ’s name. There it becomes eloquent that a priest lives at the service of the community and not the community at his service. This guarantees his poverty in spirit.
The Eucharist is the event where resurrection and cross, giving himself and forgiving join together in a forceful, credible sign of redemption. There he creates community. There he explains the Gospel way of life. There he invites for service or diakonia. There, as for Don Bosco, he finds and communicates the joy which allows him to live a life totally dedicated, giving an understanding of the choice he made to live a celibate life, and to live in a community of brothers—Salesians together. There he blesses, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, the community and the world as a true missionary of Christ.
Here we need a word about the Holy Spirit. Mary was filled with the Holy Spirit. All her life she witnessed as a contemplative of God living in her. She was there a “specialist in the matter” when the Spirit came over the apostles in the Cenacle, the same place where they had the Last Supper with Jesus. That Spirit of God took away all fear from the disciples; doors and windows opened, and they went into the squares and the streets to tell anybody their experience with Jesus, in particular that they had eaten with him.
Dear priests, dear Christians, God shares his meal, his body and blood, with us. The one who eats his body and drinks his blood will saved. To this end he gave us the priest, to be able to participate in the banquet. But first, before joining in this divine meal, we ought to recognize our smallness, profess our faith, and proclaim our readiness to live according to what Christ taught us.
When the disciples asked him what they had to do, he simply said, “Believe in the one the Father has sent.” And when he met the children, he gave us the key to the Preventive System. Three words, three verbs, he gave us synthesizing what Don Bosco elaborated. He embraced the children as a sign of his love; he put his hand on their heads as a sign of protection and encouragement; and he blessed them as a sign that he would never leave them alone, but remain with them, with us, to the end of time (Mark 10:16).
of Don Bosco
Homily of Bishop Luc Van Looy, SDB
Ordination of Frs. Matt DeGance and Mike Leschinsky
July 2, 2011. Our Lady of the Valley Church, Orange, N.J.
Don Bosco was a priest of a very different kind. He learned from Don [Father] Cafasso that even young people in prison were not really bad. He decided to keep them off the streets and give them a good education. Education for him was at the same time faith-education. He renewed the catechetical system in such a way that catechism was not just the teaching of doctrine, but the witnessing presence of the priest or catechist. He brought faith to society, and the living environment of the young to the Church.
He was a priest, always and everywhere. And a humble but convinced, poor but caring priest. Maybe in these times of the Church in which we are living we need to combine poverty and courage: poor by choice, and daring by conviction. These are two gifts we all should ask for our priests and deacons, and in fact for all Christians. To be poor today we will go against the mainstream. Also daring to speak about the Gospel and continue to tell the story of Jesus of Nazareth needs courage and may not always be welcome. The man and woman in the street does not ask for our message; maybe many are afraid to recognize for themselves that deep in their heart they crave for the mystery, for the transcendent, for what cannot be seen or touched or measured.
Our young people of today need priests who open the door to faith, to spirituality, to trustworthy relationships. So many are afraid to engage themselves with others, and especially to engage themselves for life in any value and witness-oriented lifestyle. A priest today is not in the first place an organizer, a director or coordinator—God bless those who are—but first and foremost we need inspirers; more than teachers, we need witnesses of faith, said Paul VI. A priest today listens to God and to people. His first duty is to become a disciple. The only way to become a teacher and a witness is to begin with discipleship. If you want to give water to your garden, it is better to keep a receptacle full so it can overflow, rather than to use a hose or a plastic pipe. First you need to fill yourself with God and Gospel, with Jesus and God’s love; then your witness will be credible.
For this the priest has the Eucharist, day after day, to grow totally in the spirit of Christ. The Eucharist is his way of proclaiming the Word, of commenting on Christ and not himself, of breaking the bread and shedding the wine as a sign of his own service to the people in Christ’s name. There it becomes eloquent that a priest lives at the service of the community and not the community at his service. This guarantees his poverty in spirit.
The Eucharist is the event where resurrection and cross, giving himself and forgiving join together in a forceful, credible sign of redemption. There he creates community. There he explains the Gospel way of life. There he invites for service or diakonia. There, as for Don Bosco, he finds and communicates the joy which allows him to live a life totally dedicated, giving an understanding of the choice he made to live a celibate life, and to live in a community of brothers—Salesians together. There he blesses, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, the community and the world as a true missionary of Christ.
Here we need a word about the Holy Spirit. Mary was filled with the Holy Spirit. All her life she witnessed as a contemplative of God living in her. She was there a “specialist in the matter” when the Spirit came over the apostles in the Cenacle, the same place where they had the Last Supper with Jesus. That Spirit of God took away all fear from the disciples; doors and windows opened, and they went into the squares and the streets to tell anybody their experience with Jesus, in particular that they had eaten with him.
Dear priests, dear Christians, God shares his meal, his body and blood, with us. The one who eats his body and drinks his blood will saved. To this end he gave us the priest, to be able to participate in the banquet. But first, before joining in this divine meal, we ought to recognize our smallness, profess our faith, and proclaim our readiness to live according to what Christ taught us.
When the disciples asked him what they had to do, he simply said, “Believe in the one the Father has sent.” And when he met the children, he gave us the key to the Preventive System. Three words, three verbs, he gave us synthesizing what Don Bosco elaborated. He embraced the children as a sign of his love; he put his hand on their heads as a sign of protection and encouragement; and he blessed them as a sign that he would never leave them alone, but remain with them, with us, to the end of time (Mark 10:16).
Frs. Matt DeGance and Mike Leschinsky Ordained
Fathers Matt De Gance
and Mike Leschinsky Ordained
Fr. Matthew DeGance and Fr. Michael Leschinsky were ordained priests on July 2 in Our Lady of the Valley Church in Orange, N.J. Bishop Luc Van Looy, SDB, of Ghent, Belgium, presided over the Mass and carried out the ordination. He was joined by Bishop Dominic Marconi, auxiliary bishop emeritus of the Newark Archdiocese, 43 concelebrating priests, and 2 deacons.
In his homily Bishop Van Looy called Frs. Matt and Mike to be teachers through their loving witness to Jesus, to be poor and ready to go where they can serve Jesus, and to center their lives on the Eucharist.
Both newly ordained confreres did their novitiate year at Mary Help of Christians Parish on East 12th Street in 2000-2001 and made their first profession there on August 16, 2001.
At the beginning of the rite, the 2 men's parents bless them before sending them to answer the Church's call to ordination.
With a sacramental gesture going back to the apostles, Bishop Luc imposes hands on the head of Deacon Matt DeGance in silence.
All the concelebrating priests join Bishop Luc in the consecratory prayer which, following the imposition of hands, makes the 2 men presbyters ("priests").
The hands of each of the newly ordained priests are anointed with sacred chrism--Fr. Leschinsky in this photo.
For the 1st time, Frs. Matt (left) and Mike concelebrate Mass. Bishop Marconi is between Bishop Luc and Fr. Mike.
Most of the concelebrants posed after Mass with Bishop Luc, Fr. Matt, and Fr. Mike
Many more photos of the ordination Mass and the reception may be viewed at http://ordinationoffrsdeganceleschinsky.shutterfly.com/
and Mike Leschinsky Ordained
In his homily Bishop Van Looy called Frs. Matt and Mike to be teachers through their loving witness to Jesus, to be poor and ready to go where they can serve Jesus, and to center their lives on the Eucharist.
Both newly ordained confreres did their novitiate year at Mary Help of Christians Parish on East 12th Street in 2000-2001 and made their first profession there on August 16, 2001.
Fr. Matt DeGance, 34 years old, is the son of Joseph and Jacqueline DeGance. He’s a native of Fort Lauderdale and graduated from the University of North Florida in Jacksonville with a bachelor’s degree in physical therapy. He began working as a therapist after graduation.
The DeGance family’s friendship with several Salesians, particularly Frs. Peter Lappin and August Bosio, nurtured in Matt a love for Don Bosco and a vocational seed—the seed already having been planted in his family. In 1999 he enter the formation program at Orange.
The DeGance family’s friendship with several Salesians, particularly Frs. Peter Lappin and August Bosio, nurtured in Matt a love for Don Bosco and a vocational seed—the seed already having been planted in his family. In 1999 he enter the formation program at Orange.
After some years of postnovitiate formation at Orange, Bro. Matt was assigned to Don Bosco Prep in Ramsey from 2005 to 2007. He taught biology and theology, directed an intramural sports program, was an assistant coach of varsity, JV, and freshman volleyball, and contributed to the school’s campus ministry program.
From the fall of 2007 until June 2011 Bro. Matt studied theology at Sts. Peter and Paul Salesian Theological School in Jerusalem, also called the Ratisbonne Monastery, which is affiliated with the Salesian Pontifical University in Rome. He took full advantage of his closeness to the biblical holy places and the opportunity to connect the Scriptures with his daily life experience. He enjoyed the international flavor of the school, which draws students and faculty from more than 20 countries. He was also a talented tour guide for Salesians visiting from other parts of the world. During his theological studies he engaged in such pastoral work as adult catechesis, days of recollection, liturgical assistance, and youth ministry.
From the fall of 2007 until June 2011 Bro. Matt studied theology at Sts. Peter and Paul Salesian Theological School in Jerusalem, also called the Ratisbonne Monastery, which is affiliated with the Salesian Pontifical University in Rome. He took full advantage of his closeness to the biblical holy places and the opportunity to connect the Scriptures with his daily life experience. He enjoyed the international flavor of the school, which draws students and faculty from more than 20 countries. He was also a talented tour guide for Salesians visiting from other parts of the world. During his theological studies he engaged in such pastoral work as adult catechesis, days of recollection, liturgical assistance, and youth ministry.
Fr. Matt finds that being a consecrated Salesian is “a great gift” from God, one that he would encourage any young person to accept without fear. The Salesian vocation is rich in peace and in the happiness of doing God’s will, and Fr. Matt cannot think of any spirituality that is more attractive than Don Bosco’s.
He will offer a Mass of thanksgiving at his home parish of Saint John the Baptist in Fort Lauderdale on July 10.
Fr. Matt’s first assignment as a priest will be as a teacher at Archbishop Shaw High School in Marrero, La.
He will offer a Mass of thanksgiving at his home parish of Saint John the Baptist in Fort Lauderdale on July 10.
Fr. Matt’s first assignment as a priest will be as a teacher at Archbishop Shaw High School in Marrero, La.
Fr. Mike Leschinsky, 35, the son of Thomas and Ann Leschinsky, was born in Youngstown, Ohio. While attending Bowling Green State University, earning a degree in secondary English education, he felt a call to the religious life. Wanting to work with young people, he looked into the Salesians and discovered what he calls “an authentic spiritual family.” He spent several summers working at Camp Don Bosco, getting to know Don Bosco and his educational methods and Salesian devotion to Mary Help of Christians. He entered the Salesian formation community in Orange in 1999.
After two further years of postnovitiate formation at Orange, Bro. Mike carried out two years of practical training at Salesian High School in New Rochelle (2003-2005). He also did some ministry at the Don Bosco Retreat Center in Haverstraw.
After two further years of postnovitiate formation at Orange, Bro. Mike carried out two years of practical training at Salesian High School in New Rochelle (2003-2005). He also did some ministry at the Don Bosco Retreat Center in Haverstraw.
Bro. Mike did one year of his theological studies at the Salesian Theological School in Tlaquepaque, Mexico, and the other three years at Seton Hall University’s Immaculate Conception Seminary in South Orange, N.J. He earned a master of divinity degree in 2011.
Fr. Mike says he wants to seek God while living and praying in community, serving the young in the spirit of Don Bosco, and striving to do good together with many other apostolic people. He will be doing just that as he begins his new apostolic work at Salesian High School in New Rochelle this fall.
Fr. Mike will celebrate a Mass of thanksgiving at his home parish of St. Matthias in Youngstown on July 10.
Fr. Mike says he wants to seek God while living and praying in community, serving the young in the spirit of Don Bosco, and striving to do good together with many other apostolic people. He will be doing just that as he begins his new apostolic work at Salesian High School in New Rochelle this fall.
Fr. Mike will celebrate a Mass of thanksgiving at his home parish of St. Matthias in Youngstown on July 10.
Many more photos of the ordination Mass and the reception may be viewed at http://ordinationoffrsdeganceleschinsky.shutterfly.com/
Monday, June 27, 2011
Why Those Two Words Matter
Why Those Two Words Matter
"under God"
In a blog posting, Fr. Robert Barron from Chicago notes:
"One wonders whom the producers of the U.S. Open broadcast were trying to impress or not to offend when they excised the words "under God" from the Pledge of Allegiance. Of course, by not offending, they managed to do violence to the words of the pledge.
. . . .
"And though it might not be immediately apparent, this is no small thing. The claim that we are a nation 'under God' is an affirmation that we stand opposed to tyrannies of all stripes. What creates a tyrant is the assumption that he and his policies are beyond criticism, because his will is the criterion of truth."
You can read the whole post at http://newsblogs.chicagotribune.com/religion_theseeker/2011/06/us-should-be-nation-under-god-that-keeps-the-sabbath.html
"under God"
In a blog posting, Fr. Robert Barron from Chicago notes:
"One wonders whom the producers of the U.S. Open broadcast were trying to impress or not to offend when they excised the words "under God" from the Pledge of Allegiance. Of course, by not offending, they managed to do violence to the words of the pledge.
. . . .
"And though it might not be immediately apparent, this is no small thing. The claim that we are a nation 'under God' is an affirmation that we stand opposed to tyrannies of all stripes. What creates a tyrant is the assumption that he and his policies are beyond criticism, because his will is the criterion of truth."
You can read the whole post at http://newsblogs.chicagotribune.com/religion_theseeker/2011/06/us-should-be-nation-under-god-that-keeps-the-sabbath.html
Homily for Solemnity of Corpus Christi
Homily for the Solemnity
of Corpus Christi
May 28, 1978
Deut. 8: 2-3, 14-16
Salesian Center, Columbus
* Note for blog readers: this was during my clinical pastoral education as a student of theology; I think it was after my ordination to the diaconate in the fall of 1977.
of Corpus Christi
May 28, 1978
Deut. 8: 2-3, 14-16
Salesian Center, Columbus
This year (2011), Corpus Christi fell on June 26; from June 21 to 25 I was en route to and from, or taking part in, the Catholic Media Conference in Pittsburgh. Thus I didn't have a chance to write out a homily, and on the 26th I preached to the Ursulines from an 8-word outline--at my usual length! In lieu of that nugget, here's a homily from 9 days after my presbyteral ordination.
The 1st or 2d time I braved the Mt. Carmel East emergency room by myself,* an elderly man was ambulanced in with massive heart failure. His wife, son, daughter-in-law, and grand-daughter came in to wait it out, and there I was, trying to be of use, of help, of something, in a tiny private room with them. How do we minister to people in basic human situations? in extreme human situations?
To care, and to show we care, we must enter into the situation ourselves. We must somehow participate in the experience, become present, and become vulnerable. We simply cannot remain spectators.
In the situation I cited, the case was extreme. Fortunately for all of us, at least as far as I was concerned, one of the Holy Cross sisters joined us, and when the bad news came after about 15 minutes, the doctor, too, was most compassionate. Together, we all of us experienced this man’s death in some way, and sister’s experience, mine, and the doctor’s were instruments for Christ’s care toward these stricken people.
In such situations, words may help; but generally they don’t. Only a shared presence is of value.
Human misery and death are certainly an extreme condition of our race. But they aren’t the worst extreme. There is sin. There is alienation from God and one another. These hurt us mortally. These tear us apart more than physical death.
And we are fortunate to have the pastoral presence of the Lord God. He calls us to himself, to follow him thru the desert wasteland to fellowship with him to a land of milk and honey. He bestows his gifts on us to sustain us in the desert of our extreme human situation.
But his words spoken thru Moses, his manna given from the sky, aren’t enuf to keep us with him and to heal our situation. We insist on going our own way and staying lost in the desert wastes of sin and alienation. What more can he do for us, then?
“Man lives by everything that proceeds out of the mouth of God” (Deut 8:3). The spoken word isn’t concrete enuf for us, so God has outdone himself and given us a Word enfleshed. The presence of Jesus is as pastoral and compassionate a presence to the misery and alienation of our human condition as God can devise. He has participated in our whole situation; he has become vulnerable, just like us. God truly cares—not just with manna that feeds us for a day but doesn’t prevent death or alienation or infidelity—but with the Word of life, the Word really present among men.
“Man lives by everything that proceeds out of the mouth of God.” Out of God’s mouth proceeds also the Breath, the Spirit, who vivifies and sanctifies us in the corporeal absence of Jesus. This is the same Spirit who overshadowed Mary and enabled the Word to become flesh.
But the compassion and the concern of our God for our frailty, our pain, our wounds, goes still further! Jesus the Word of life is still with us bodily, in the Bread of life, again made flesh by the overshadowing of the Spirit.
Bread…bread and wine! Not caviar and martinis, not any exotic or expensive food, but abundant, common, universal bread and wine—the food for all mankind, just as God’s compassion is universally present to us. In his com-passion, he has truly suffered with us. And now…now, he invites us to be compassionate with him. He is present to us to be eaten as food. We are present to him to become part of his body given up for the human race. His Bread is a promise to us of salvation, of eternal life. Our eating his Bread is a promise to him that we share his com-passion for his whole Body, for all men. In this food, more than any other, do we become what we eat.
What a gift, what a presence, we have received! After that fatherless family left Mt. Carmel, our only presence to each other has been in thought. But God’s Word among us not only gives life but asks us to be taken up, given up with him so that we who receive might also give. Truly, we abide in him and he in us (cf. John 6:56).
To care, and to show we care, we must enter into the situation ourselves. We must somehow participate in the experience, become present, and become vulnerable. We simply cannot remain spectators.
In the situation I cited, the case was extreme. Fortunately for all of us, at least as far as I was concerned, one of the Holy Cross sisters joined us, and when the bad news came after about 15 minutes, the doctor, too, was most compassionate. Together, we all of us experienced this man’s death in some way, and sister’s experience, mine, and the doctor’s were instruments for Christ’s care toward these stricken people.
In such situations, words may help; but generally they don’t. Only a shared presence is of value.
Human misery and death are certainly an extreme condition of our race. But they aren’t the worst extreme. There is sin. There is alienation from God and one another. These hurt us mortally. These tear us apart more than physical death.
And we are fortunate to have the pastoral presence of the Lord God. He calls us to himself, to follow him thru the desert wasteland to fellowship with him to a land of milk and honey. He bestows his gifts on us to sustain us in the desert of our extreme human situation.
But his words spoken thru Moses, his manna given from the sky, aren’t enuf to keep us with him and to heal our situation. We insist on going our own way and staying lost in the desert wastes of sin and alienation. What more can he do for us, then?
“Man lives by everything that proceeds out of the mouth of God” (Deut 8:3). The spoken word isn’t concrete enuf for us, so God has outdone himself and given us a Word enfleshed. The presence of Jesus is as pastoral and compassionate a presence to the misery and alienation of our human condition as God can devise. He has participated in our whole situation; he has become vulnerable, just like us. God truly cares—not just with manna that feeds us for a day but doesn’t prevent death or alienation or infidelity—but with the Word of life, the Word really present among men.
“Man lives by everything that proceeds out of the mouth of God.” Out of God’s mouth proceeds also the Breath, the Spirit, who vivifies and sanctifies us in the corporeal absence of Jesus. This is the same Spirit who overshadowed Mary and enabled the Word to become flesh.
But the compassion and the concern of our God for our frailty, our pain, our wounds, goes still further! Jesus the Word of life is still with us bodily, in the Bread of life, again made flesh by the overshadowing of the Spirit.
What a gift, what a presence, we have received! After that fatherless family left Mt. Carmel, our only presence to each other has been in thought. But God’s Word among us not only gives life but asks us to be taken up, given up with him so that we who receive might also give. Truly, we abide in him and he in us (cf. John 6:56).
* Note for blog readers: this was during my clinical pastoral education as a student of theology; I think it was after my ordination to the diaconate in the fall of 1977.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Homily for Trinity Sunday
Homily for Trinity Sunday
St. Vincent’s Hospital, Harrison, N.Y.
“Brothers and sisters, rejoice. Mend your ways, encourage one another, agree with one another, live in peace, and the God of love and peace will be with you” (2 Cor 13: 11).
Our 2d Scripture passage this morning is the conclusion of St. Paul’s 2d Letter to the Corinthians—the last verse of which, a blessing, you’ve often heard as the priest’s greeting at the beginning of Mass, as you did today.
Corinth is located at the head of a deep bay in southern Greece, on the neck of the isthmus between the northern mainland of the country and the large southern peninsula. So it was an important seaport and a crossroads—a very important commercial, social, and religious center.
The Christians of Corinth were ordinary people like us, except that most of them were converts to Christianity—from decadent pagan lives or, in some cases, from devoutly Jewish lives—whereas most of us were raised as followers of Jesus from birth; and the Corinthians lived in a very pagan, very immoral world renowned for its corruption—the Times Square, the Las Vegas, the Amsterdam of the Roman Empire—whereas our society and our culture shows much evidence of Judeo-Christian influences despite some strong currents of modern paganism.
Paul’s letters to these early Christians deal with a lot of problems, with doctrinal questions, with conflicts, with bad behavior. So we hear him commanding them to “mend their ways.”
Then he tells them, specifically, to encourage one another, agree with one another, live in peace. This is the opposite of what so many of them have been doing. (Just read the 2 letters to the Corinthians in your New Testament.) It’s the opposite of what Paul prays that these friends of his will experience: God’s love, the fellowship of the Holy Spirit, grace from Jesus Christ.
Thru the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, God calls us into fellowship, into communion, with himself and with one another. He doesn’t call us to fault-finding, to arguments, to ego trips, to lies about one another, to exploiting one another. He doesn’t call us to indifference toward one another. God, after all, hasn’t been indifferent toward us, even tho we’re sinners—pretty ugly people sometimes (and I don’t mean ugly in a physical sense, like when you 1st get to the mirror in the morning). Indeed, what does St. John tell us about God today? That he “so loved the world”—which means us sinful people—“that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life” (3:16). God wants to save us! God loves us!
That’s why Paul can urge even the Corinthians (with all their faults and sins) to rejoice—to rejoice in God’s love, in the fellowship they share with God thru Jesus, thru the power of the Holy Spirit to help them change their sinful behavior, to mend their ways. God's word urges us today to rejoice for the same reason, in the same communion with God.
“Greet one another with a holy kiss. All the holy ones greet you” (13:12). So Paul signs off just before blessing his friends and disciples in Corinth.
“All the holy ones,” which most English versions translate as “All the saints,” refers to the Christians who are with Paul where he’s writing from; that appears to be Macedonia—perhaps Philippi or Thessalonica, where Paul had planted the faith before he reached Corinth. Every faithful flower of Jesus is a “holy one” or a “saint,” someone made holy by “the grace of Jesus Christ, God’s love, and fellowship with the Holy Spirit.” In fact, when he greeted the faithful of Corinth in the 1st verse of this letter, he greeted them, too, as “saints” or “holy ones.”
You and I, dear sisters and brothers, are God’s holy people. Yes, we’re sinners. But God’s grace comes to us in Jesus; the fellowship of the Holy Spirit cleanses our sins and draws us into communion with God! It’s God’s holiness, not our own, that we acknowledge—and that we strive to live up to.
In all cultures, including those of the ancient Near East, a kiss symbolizes affection, respect, and friendship between family members, friends, or members of the same group. People greet each other or say farewell with a kiss. In the liturgy we kiss sacred objects such as the altar, the book of the Gospels, relics—and in some rites, tho not the Roman Rite that we follow—we kiss our fellow worshipers at the sign of peace. In fact, those of you old enuf to remember the pre-Vatican II rite of Confirmation will remember that the bishop used to slap the one he’d just confirmed—a light slap, of course—which the sisters explained was a sign that we had to be ready to suffer as soldiers of Christ in battles against the evil in the world. In truth, tho, that “slap” was the feeble remnant of a kiss; it was a love tap such as you might give your child; it was a sign of peace—exactly what has replaced it in the post-Vatican II Confirmation rite, in which the bishop expressly wishes peace to the person he’s just confirmed.
Paul urges the Corinthians to “greet one another with a holy kiss.” There are in the Bible insincere kisses; the most notorious example is Judas’s kissing of Jesus as he betrays him. So a holy kiss in the Christian community, or any sign of peace and reconciliation and friendship, must 1st of all be sincere. Then, we all know that kisses are exchanged between lovers. These also can be signs of the deepest affection and commitment toward each other. Unfortunately, they can also be exploitative, like so much of the sexual expression in our culture (not that our culture is unique in that regard, not at all). A holy kiss, then, like any exchange between persons, is one that regards and respects the other person, not one that is self-gratifying, one that seeks to use another person for one’s own pleasure. Paul is urging the Christians of Corinth to be in peace and harmony with each other, and to treat one another with complete respect—ultimately, to treat one another as God’s holy people, people who belong to the Lord Jesus because the Holy Spirit dwells in them, people belonging intimately to the Father.
June 19, 2011
2 Cor 13: 11-13St. Vincent’s Hospital, Harrison, N.Y.
“Brothers and sisters, rejoice. Mend your ways, encourage one another, agree with one another, live in peace, and the God of love and peace will be with you” (2 Cor 13: 11).
Our 2d Scripture passage this morning is the conclusion of St. Paul’s 2d Letter to the Corinthians—the last verse of which, a blessing, you’ve often heard as the priest’s greeting at the beginning of Mass, as you did today.
Corinth is located at the head of a deep bay in southern Greece, on the neck of the isthmus between the northern mainland of the country and the large southern peninsula. So it was an important seaport and a crossroads—a very important commercial, social, and religious center.
The Christians of Corinth were ordinary people like us, except that most of them were converts to Christianity—from decadent pagan lives or, in some cases, from devoutly Jewish lives—whereas most of us were raised as followers of Jesus from birth; and the Corinthians lived in a very pagan, very immoral world renowned for its corruption—the Times Square, the Las Vegas, the Amsterdam of the Roman Empire—whereas our society and our culture shows much evidence of Judeo-Christian influences despite some strong currents of modern paganism.
Paul’s letters to these early Christians deal with a lot of problems, with doctrinal questions, with conflicts, with bad behavior. So we hear him commanding them to “mend their ways.”
Then he tells them, specifically, to encourage one another, agree with one another, live in peace. This is the opposite of what so many of them have been doing. (Just read the 2 letters to the Corinthians in your New Testament.) It’s the opposite of what Paul prays that these friends of his will experience: God’s love, the fellowship of the Holy Spirit, grace from Jesus Christ.
Thru the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, God calls us into fellowship, into communion, with himself and with one another. He doesn’t call us to fault-finding, to arguments, to ego trips, to lies about one another, to exploiting one another. He doesn’t call us to indifference toward one another. God, after all, hasn’t been indifferent toward us, even tho we’re sinners—pretty ugly people sometimes (and I don’t mean ugly in a physical sense, like when you 1st get to the mirror in the morning). Indeed, what does St. John tell us about God today? That he “so loved the world”—which means us sinful people—“that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life” (3:16). God wants to save us! God loves us!
That’s why Paul can urge even the Corinthians (with all their faults and sins) to rejoice—to rejoice in God’s love, in the fellowship they share with God thru Jesus, thru the power of the Holy Spirit to help them change their sinful behavior, to mend their ways. God's word urges us today to rejoice for the same reason, in the same communion with God.
“Greet one another with a holy kiss. All the holy ones greet you” (13:12). So Paul signs off just before blessing his friends and disciples in Corinth.
“All the holy ones,” which most English versions translate as “All the saints,” refers to the Christians who are with Paul where he’s writing from; that appears to be Macedonia—perhaps Philippi or Thessalonica, where Paul had planted the faith before he reached Corinth. Every faithful flower of Jesus is a “holy one” or a “saint,” someone made holy by “the grace of Jesus Christ, God’s love, and fellowship with the Holy Spirit.” In fact, when he greeted the faithful of Corinth in the 1st verse of this letter, he greeted them, too, as “saints” or “holy ones.”
You and I, dear sisters and brothers, are God’s holy people. Yes, we’re sinners. But God’s grace comes to us in Jesus; the fellowship of the Holy Spirit cleanses our sins and draws us into communion with God! It’s God’s holiness, not our own, that we acknowledge—and that we strive to live up to.
In all cultures, including those of the ancient Near East, a kiss symbolizes affection, respect, and friendship between family members, friends, or members of the same group. People greet each other or say farewell with a kiss. In the liturgy we kiss sacred objects such as the altar, the book of the Gospels, relics—and in some rites, tho not the Roman Rite that we follow—we kiss our fellow worshipers at the sign of peace. In fact, those of you old enuf to remember the pre-Vatican II rite of Confirmation will remember that the bishop used to slap the one he’d just confirmed—a light slap, of course—which the sisters explained was a sign that we had to be ready to suffer as soldiers of Christ in battles against the evil in the world. In truth, tho, that “slap” was the feeble remnant of a kiss; it was a love tap such as you might give your child; it was a sign of peace—exactly what has replaced it in the post-Vatican II Confirmation rite, in which the bishop expressly wishes peace to the person he’s just confirmed.
Paul urges the Corinthians to “greet one another with a holy kiss.” There are in the Bible insincere kisses; the most notorious example is Judas’s kissing of Jesus as he betrays him. So a holy kiss in the Christian community, or any sign of peace and reconciliation and friendship, must 1st of all be sincere. Then, we all know that kisses are exchanged between lovers. These also can be signs of the deepest affection and commitment toward each other. Unfortunately, they can also be exploitative, like so much of the sexual expression in our culture (not that our culture is unique in that regard, not at all). A holy kiss, then, like any exchange between persons, is one that regards and respects the other person, not one that is self-gratifying, one that seeks to use another person for one’s own pleasure. Paul is urging the Christians of Corinth to be in peace and harmony with each other, and to treat one another with complete respect—ultimately, to treat one another as God’s holy people, people who belong to the Lord Jesus because the Holy Spirit dwells in them, people belonging intimately to the Father.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Homily for Solemnity of Pentecost
Homily for the
Solemnity of PentecostJune 12, 2011
Psalm 104: 1,24,29-31,34
John 20: 19-23
Sequence
1 Cor 12: 3-7, 12-13
Ursulines, Willow Dr., N.R.
“When you send forth your spirit, they are created, and you renew the face of the earth” (Ps 104: 30).
"Jesus has poured this Spirit you see and hear": mosaic in the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, Washington, D.C.
The 1st 2 verses of the Bible speak of God’s creating the heavens and the earth “in the beginning,” and of a divine wind—or the spirit of God—sweeping over primordial waters as part of that creative process. I’m no paleontologist, but those who study the beginnings of life on our planet tell us, as I understand it, that all life forms emerged from the sea. The so-called Priestly Source of this section of Genesis had no idea how uncanny his description has turned out to be!
The point of the story, of course, is that God has given all order and all life and all goodness to the universe. God has literally “inspired” creation. God’s plan from “the beginning” was that all of creation should be alive and thrive in an orderly relationship with him. Again, the Psalmist picks up on that theme: “How manifold are your works, O Lord! The earth is full of your creatures” (104:24). St. Irenaeus gives us the patristic insight: “The glory of God is man fully alive.”
The sin of the 1st human beings introduced disorder and death in God’s universe, listening not to the divine Spirit but to the evil spirit: Sine tuo numine, nihil est in homine, nihil est innoxium, very freely rendered, “Where you are not, we have naught: Nothing good in deed or thought, Nothing free from taint of ill.”
So we may rightly claim that the divine Spirit intervened to restore God’s will for the universe: Mary conceived of the Holy Spirit, and the Word was made flesh. The 1st word spoken by the Word after his resurrection is “Shalom!” Peace be with you! The word of life is a word of peace, and that peace follows from the reconciliation between God and sinners: “Receive the Holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them” (John 20:23). The Spirit is life-giving, for it’s God’s most ardent desire that we be fully alive. “May the glory of the Lord endure forever; may the Lord be glad in his works!” (Ps 104:31). “The glory of God is man fully alive.”
As you know, water that just sits becomes stagnant, repulsive, dead. God’s Spirit isn’t stagnant. Jesus uses the image of flowing water to refer to the Spirit, especially in John’s Gospel: we must be born again of water and the Spirit (3:5); Jesus offers the Samaritan woman the gift of living water, flowing water (4:10); from whoever believes in Jesus will flow “rivers of living water” (7:38-39); from the pierced side of Jesus flow blood and water (19:34). So those who are filled with the Spirit, those who are fully alive in Christ, act accordingly. They flow, they move, they generate life. On the day of Pentecost, “they all began to speak in different tongues” (2:4) and then went out and preached Jesus Christ. Likewise, Paul says that to be able to proclaim “Jesus is Lord” is a gift of the Spirit (1 Cor 12:3), and the Spirit gives a great variety of gifts to the disciples of Jesus “for some benefit” (12:7).
The Cascade of Slid, a stretch of Pine Meadow Brook in Harriman State Park, New York
God’s dynamic Spirit impels believers to act on what they believe, in “different forms of service,” in “different workings” for the glory of God and the spread of the Good News that “Jesus is Lord,” for the reconciliation of sinners with God, for the restoration of goodness and order in the created universe. Lava quod est sordidum, riga quod est aridum, sana quod est saucium. Da virtutis meritum, da salutis exitum, da perenne gaudium: “Heal our wounds, our strength renew; On our dryness pour thy dew; Wash the stains of guilt away. Give us virtue’s sure reward; Give us your salvation, Lord; Give us joys that never end.”
Sisters, you are sent by the Risen Jesus to preach that Good News, to work with the Spirit of God to effect peace and reconciliation. The different spiritual gifts you have received—of virtue, of teaching, of prayer, of leadership, of wisdom, of discernment, of inner healing, etc.—bring them to your community; bring them to the people of God “for some benefit,” for building up the body of Christ. Fill the earth with the glory of God!
Solemnity of PentecostJune 12, 2011
Psalm 104: 1,24,29-31,34
John 20: 19-23
Sequence
1 Cor 12: 3-7, 12-13
Ursulines, Willow Dr., N.R.
“When you send forth your spirit, they are created, and you renew the face of the earth” (Ps 104: 30).
The 1st 2 verses of the Bible speak of God’s creating the heavens and the earth “in the beginning,” and of a divine wind—or the spirit of God—sweeping over primordial waters as part of that creative process. I’m no paleontologist, but those who study the beginnings of life on our planet tell us, as I understand it, that all life forms emerged from the sea. The so-called Priestly Source of this section of Genesis had no idea how uncanny his description has turned out to be!
The point of the story, of course, is that God has given all order and all life and all goodness to the universe. God has literally “inspired” creation. God’s plan from “the beginning” was that all of creation should be alive and thrive in an orderly relationship with him. Again, the Psalmist picks up on that theme: “How manifold are your works, O Lord! The earth is full of your creatures” (104:24). St. Irenaeus gives us the patristic insight: “The glory of God is man fully alive.”
The sin of the 1st human beings introduced disorder and death in God’s universe, listening not to the divine Spirit but to the evil spirit: Sine tuo numine, nihil est in homine, nihil est innoxium, very freely rendered, “Where you are not, we have naught: Nothing good in deed or thought, Nothing free from taint of ill.”
So we may rightly claim that the divine Spirit intervened to restore God’s will for the universe: Mary conceived of the Holy Spirit, and the Word was made flesh. The 1st word spoken by the Word after his resurrection is “Shalom!” Peace be with you! The word of life is a word of peace, and that peace follows from the reconciliation between God and sinners: “Receive the Holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them” (John 20:23). The Spirit is life-giving, for it’s God’s most ardent desire that we be fully alive. “May the glory of the Lord endure forever; may the Lord be glad in his works!” (Ps 104:31). “The glory of God is man fully alive.”
As you know, water that just sits becomes stagnant, repulsive, dead. God’s Spirit isn’t stagnant. Jesus uses the image of flowing water to refer to the Spirit, especially in John’s Gospel: we must be born again of water and the Spirit (3:5); Jesus offers the Samaritan woman the gift of living water, flowing water (4:10); from whoever believes in Jesus will flow “rivers of living water” (7:38-39); from the pierced side of Jesus flow blood and water (19:34). So those who are filled with the Spirit, those who are fully alive in Christ, act accordingly. They flow, they move, they generate life. On the day of Pentecost, “they all began to speak in different tongues” (2:4) and then went out and preached Jesus Christ. Likewise, Paul says that to be able to proclaim “Jesus is Lord” is a gift of the Spirit (1 Cor 12:3), and the Spirit gives a great variety of gifts to the disciples of Jesus “for some benefit” (12:7).
God’s dynamic Spirit impels believers to act on what they believe, in “different forms of service,” in “different workings” for the glory of God and the spread of the Good News that “Jesus is Lord,” for the reconciliation of sinners with God, for the restoration of goodness and order in the created universe. Lava quod est sordidum, riga quod est aridum, sana quod est saucium. Da virtutis meritum, da salutis exitum, da perenne gaudium: “Heal our wounds, our strength renew; On our dryness pour thy dew; Wash the stains of guilt away. Give us virtue’s sure reward; Give us your salvation, Lord; Give us joys that never end.”
Sisters, you are sent by the Risen Jesus to preach that Good News, to work with the Spirit of God to effect peace and reconciliation. The different spiritual gifts you have received—of virtue, of teaching, of prayer, of leadership, of wisdom, of discernment, of inner healing, etc.—bring them to your community; bring them to the people of God “for some benefit,” for building up the body of Christ. Fill the earth with the glory of God!
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Rector Major Announces Strenna for 2012
Rector Major Announces
Strenna (Theme) for 2012
A few days ago Fr. Pascual Chavez, the SDBs' Rector Major, announced the annual strenna or theme for the Salesian Family for next year. It's the 1st of 3 that will point the Salesians toward the bicentennial of St. John Bosco's birth in 2015.
Strenna 2012: Coming to know Don Bosco in order to be faithful to him
Here's the RM's presentation of the strenna:
Fr. Pascual Chavez V., SDB
Rector Major
Strenna (Theme) for 2012
A few days ago Fr. Pascual Chavez, the SDBs' Rector Major, announced the annual strenna or theme for the Salesian Family for next year. It's the 1st of 3 that will point the Salesians toward the bicentennial of St. John Bosco's birth in 2015.
Here's the announcement from ANS, and following that you'll find the complete text of the RM's presentation of the strenna.
Strenna 2012: Coming to know Don Bosco in order to be faithful to him
(Rome) – As expected, the first of the Rector Major’s actions at the opening of the summer plenary session of the general council was to present the members with the theme for the 2012 Strenna; it is in line with preparations for celebrating the bicentennial of Don Bosco’s birth.
“Let us make the young our life’s mission by coming to know and imitate Don Bosco” is how Strenna 2012 reads. With it comes a quote from John’s Gospel (10:11) offering a biblical point of view: “I am the good shepherd: the good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.”
“We need to study [Don Bosco], and through the events of his life we must come to know him as an educator and pastor, a founder, guide, legislator,” Fr. Chavez states in the introduction to his brief presentation. In 2012, members of the Salesian Family will be called to discover and get to know the many-faceted figure of this saintly man from Turin.
Historical awareness is not just about archeology, but needs to take present times into consideration: ”The image we conjure up about Don Bosco and his activity needs serious reconstruction, beginning from our cultural horizons: the complexity of life today, globalization, difficulties in the apostolate, decrease in vocations, the ‘questioning’ of consecrated life.”
To be faithful to Don Bosco means renewing our life’s purpose, the purpose for which he gave himself “until his dying breath”: the salvation of the young, who, as the Rector Major reminds us, we encounter amid their various difficult circumstances: “poverty, child labor, sexual exploitation, lack of education and vocational training, finding work, lack of self-confidence, fear of the future, loss of the meaning of life.” It is also a case of looking at digital natives: “looking for experiences of social mobility, possibilities for intellectual development, aspects of economic progress, forms of instant communication, opportunity to be pro-active, through new technologies … here too we want to share their life and interests.”
An awareness of Don Bosco’s story has to begin with certain reference points: pastoral charity; the hardship, suffering, and many sacrifices which Don Bosco made; the ultimate purpose of the Salesian Family – to be apostles of the young, in ordinary settings as well as in poor and mission areas.
The presentation already gives an indication of tasks that will flow from Strenna 2012: being with the young in places, circumstances, and frontiers where they expect Salesian Family members also to be; an awareness of the responses that Don Bosco gave to young people’s needs: rediscovering the Memoirs of the Oratory of St. Francis de Sales, written by Don Bosco at the explicit request of Pope Pius IX, and known as the “memories of the future.” “So during this year [2012] let us be involved in getting to know this text, communicating its contents, disseminating it, and especially putting it into the hands of the young: it will also become an inspirational book for their vocational choice.”
Note that the Memoirs of the Oratory is available in English translation from Salesian Publishers. Call 201-986-0503, or write to srmdist@verizon.net
STRENNA 2012 - PRESENTATION
“I am the good shepherd:
The good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep” (John 10:11)
Let us make the young our life’s mission
by coming to know and imitate Don Bosco
Year one of the three-year preparation period for the bicentennial of the Don Bosco’s birth focuses on our getting to know his story. We need to study him and, through the events of his life, we need to come to know him as an educator and pastor, founder, guide, legislator. It is an awareness that leads to love and imitation. This is the theme of Strenna 2012.
For us members of the Salesian Family, who turn to Don Bosco as our reference point, he needs to be what St. Francis of Assisi has been and continues to be for the Franciscans and St. Ignatius of Loyola for the Jesuits, i.e., the founder, spiritual master, model of education, and especially initiator of a movement of worldwide importance, someone who was able formidably to bring young people’s needs, circumstances, and future to the attention of the Church and society. But how can we do this without turning to history, which is not the custodian of a lost past, but a living memory within us which challenges us in terms of relevance?
Our approach to Don Bosco, done with appropriate methods of historical research, has led us to understand and assess better his human and Christian greatness, his practical brilliance, his skills as an educator, his spirituality, his work, fully understood only if deeply rooted in the history of the society in which he lived. At the same time through a knowledge of his journey through history we have always been aware of God’s providential intervention in his life. In this historical study there is no a priori rejection of the valid and respectable image that generations of the Salesians, Salesian Sisters, Salesian Cooperators, and members of the Salesian Family have had of the Don Bosco they knew and loved, but there is and must be a presentation and reworking of an image of Don Bosco for today, one that can speak to today’s world, makes use of a renewed language.
The image of Don Bosco and his activity should be seriously reconstructed, beginning from our cultural horizons: the complexity of life today, globalization, and the difficulties of the apostolate, the decline in vocations, the “questioning” of consecrated life. Radical, or epochal, changes, as my predecessor Fr. Egidio Viganò called them, force us to rethink and revise the image in another light, in view of a fidelity that is not mere repetition of formulas or formal allegiance to tradition.
The historical significance of Don Bosco also has to be rediscovered, beyond his “works” and certain relatively original pedagogical elements, especially in his practical and affective perception of the universal, theological, and social problem of “neglected” youth, and his great ability to communicate this to large crowds of co-workers, benefactors, and admirers.
Let us ask ourselves: Are we faithful followers of Don Bosco today? Do we still experience the tension that he experienced between the ideal and its realization, between intuition and its embodiment in the social fabric in which he operated?
To be faithful to Don Bosco means knowing his history and the history of his times, making his inspiration our own, taking up his motivations and choices.
To be faithful to Don Bosco and his mission is to cultivate in ourselves a strong and abiding love for young people, especially the poorest.
To be faithful to Don Bosco and his mission is to cultivate in ourselves a strong and abiding love for young people, especially the poorest.
This love leads us to respond to their most pressing and deepest needs. Like Don Bosco, we feel touched by their difficult situations: poverty, child labor, sexual exploitation, lack of education and vocational training, integration into the world of work, lack of self-confidence, fear of the future, loss of meaning in life.
We try to be with them, in affection and through selfless love, holding sway discretely, offering sound proposals for them to follow as they make their choices in life and experience happiness and seek their future. In everything, we become their companions on the journey and competent guides.
In particular, referring to the youth of today, we seek to understand their new way of being. Many of them are “digital natives” looking for experiences of social mobility, the possibility of intellectual development, elements of economic progress, forms of instant communication, opportunities to be pro-active via new technologies. Here too we want to share their lives and their interests. Guided by the creative spirit of Don Bosco, as educators and “digital immigrants” we stay close to them, trying to help them overcome the generation gap with their parents or the adult world.
We take care of them throughout their journey of growth and as they mature, giving them our time and our energy and staying with them as they grow through childhood to become young adults.
We take care of them when difficult situations like war, hunger, and lack of future opportunities lead them to abandon home and family and face life alone.
We take care of them when they are looking out anxiously for their first job and setting about fitting into society, sometimes without any hope or prospect of success.
We take care of them when they are building up their world of affection, their family, accompanying them especially when they become engaged and in the early years of their marriage (see GC26, nn. 98, 99, 104).
We are particularly keen to fill the deepest void of their hearts, helping them seek meaning in their lives and above all offering a way for growth in knowledge and friendship with the Lord Jesus, in the experience of a living Church, in real commitment to experiencing their lives as vocation.
Beginning from our knowledge of the history of Don Bosco, our major points of reference and our tasks stemming from Strenna 2012 are as follows.
1. Pastoral charity characterizes Don Bosco’s entire story and is what animates his many works. We could say that it is the concise historical perspective through which to read his entire existence. The Good Shepherd knows his sheep and calls them by name; he quenches their thirst with clear water and allows them to graze in green pastures; he becomes the gate through which the sheep enter the sheepfold; and he gives his own life so that the sheep may have life in abundance. The greatest power of Don Bosco’s charism is the love drawn directly from the Lord Jesus, imitating him and remaining in Him. This love consists in giving everything. From this stems his apostolic vow: “I have promised God to spend myself until my dying breath for my poor youngsters.” This is our brand and our credibility with the young!
2. In Don Bosco’s story we come to know of much hardship, privation, suffering, and of the many sacrifices he made. The good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep. Through the needs and requests of young people, God is asking each member of the Salesian Family to sacrifice him- or herself for them. Living the mission is therefore not a vain activity for activity’s sake, but rather conforming our hearts to the heart of the Good Shepherd who does not want any of his sheep to be lost. It is a deeply human and deeply spiritual mission. It is a path of asceticism, for there is no animating presence among young people without asceticism and sacrifice. Losing something, or rather, losing everything to enrich the lives of our young people is what supports our dedication and our commitment.
3. Through the minutes of the founding of the Salesian Congregation, and especially through historical development of the multifaceted work of Don Bosco, we can get to know the purpose of the Salesian Family, as this purpose was detailed little by little. We are called to be apostles of the young, of popular settings, of poor and mission areas. Today more than ever we commit ourselves to a critical understanding of media culture, and we use the media, in particular new technologies, as potential multipliers of our activity in being close to and supportive of young people. While we are in their midst as educators, we involve them as our first collaborators, as did our Father, and we give them responsibility, help them to take initiative, enable them to be apostles of their peers. In this way we can extend the great heart of Don Bosco; he wanted to reach and serve young people throughout the world.
4. Our good intentions cannot remain empty declarations. Like Don Bosco, God waits for us in today’s youth! We therefore need to meet them and stay with them in the places, circumstances, and frontiers where they await us. This is why we need to go out to meet them, take the first step, walk with them. It is heartening to see how the Salesian Family throughout the world is doing its best for the poorest young people: street children, excluded children, young workers, young soldiers, young apprentices, neglected orphans, exploited children, but a heart that loves is always a heart that asks itself certain questions. Even today, or perhaps today more than ever, Don Bosco asks questions. By getting to know his story, we must listen to the questions Don Bosco addresses to us. What more can we do for poor young people? What are the new frontiers of the region where we work, of the country where we live? Have we the ears to hear the cries of young people today? Besides the above-mentioned poverty, how many other kinds of poverty weigh on today’s young people as they struggle on their way? What are the new frontiers we must get involved in today? Think about the reality of the family, the educational emergency, the confusion in affective and sexual education, lack of social and political involvement, the ebbing tide of privacy of personal life, spiritual weakness, the misery of so many young people. We hear the cry of young people and offer answers to their deepest, most pressing needs, their practical and spiritual needs.
5. From his personal life’s experience we can know the responses Don Bosco gave to the needs of young people. In this way we can better consider the responses that we have already put in place and what others still need to be created. Of course there are difficulties. We have to deal with the wolves who want to devour the flock: indifference, ethical relativism, the consumerism that destroys the value of things and experiences, false ideologies. God is calling us and Don Bosco encourages us to be good shepherds in the image of the Good Shepherd, so that young people will still find fathers, mothers, friends, and above all can find Life. Moreover, true Life, the abundant life offered by Jesus!
6. The Memoirs of the Oratory of St. Francis de Sales, written by Don Bosco at the explicit request of Pope Pius IX, are a point of reference for coming to know Don Bosco’s spiritual and pastoral journey. They are written so that we might come to know the prodigious beginnings of the vocation and work of Don Bosco, but especially so that taking up Don Bosco’s motivations and choices, we as individuals, and as each group of the Salesian Family, might follow the same spiritual and apostolic journey. They were regarded as “memories of the future.” So in the course of this year let us commit ourselves to getting to know this text, communicating its contents, disseminating it, and especially putting it into the hands of young people: it will become an inspirational book for their vocational choices.
Fr. Pascual Chavez V., SDB
Rector Major

Thursday, June 9, 2011
DB Cristo Rey HS Celebrates 1st Commencement
Don Bosco Cristo Rey HS
Celebrates 1st Commencement
Don Bosco Cristo Rey High School in Takoma Park, Md., celebrated the graduation of the Class of 2011 on the afternoon of June 2 at the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in the nation’s capital. This was the first commencement for the school, which opened in August 2007.
DBCR is co-sponsored by the archdiocese of Washington and the Salesians of Don Bosco and has enjoyed tremendous support from both as well as from the business, educational, and service communities of the Washington area.
Hundreds of family members, members of the school’s board of directors, corporate sponsors, friends of the school and of the students, and journalists joined the happy graduates in the great national basilica.
Cardinal Theodore McCarrick, archbishop emeritus of Washington, presided over the commencement exercises and gave the principal address to the graduates. Cardinal McCarrick first invited the Salesians to accept a parish in the archdiocese (Nativity, in Washington) and then initiated the process of founding the school together with the Salesians. His successor, now-Cardinal Donald Wuerl, followed up on the initiative and presided over the school’s opening, its expansion, and its first baccalaureate Mass.
The Class of 2011 numbers 70 students. All come from economically disadvantaged backgrounds, all are members of minority groups, and many of their families are immigrants. But all have worked hard at their academics and at Cristo Rey’s unique corporate work study program, and all have been accepted into college. Many if not most of them will be the first in their families to advance to higher education. Some will go to small schools or community colleges, but others have been accepted into such prestigious universities as Georgetown, Catholic, Penn State, St. John’s, and Syracuse.
The faculty led the senior class into the basilica, to the tune of Elgar’s “Pomp and Circumstance.” The administration and principal guests—
Cardinal McCarrick and Fr. Thomas Dunne, Salesian provincial—followed the seniors. Fr. Dunne offered an invocation. Fr. Steve Shafran, president of DBCR, welcomed everyone. He acknowledged the students’ hard work and the great love that the faculty has lavished on the students so that all of them together could accomplish their dreams. The students acknowledged their teachers with a rousing round of applause.
Jenifer Moreno was the salutatorian. She was described as someone who embodies the teaching of St. Francis to preach the Gospel always, using words if necessary. She is going to attend the University of West Virginia with the intention of becoming a transplant surgeon. She spoke of her class’s pride in what they’ve accomplished, of their gratitude toward all who have encouraged them, especially their parents, and of the sense of responsibility that they bear to carry on what they’ve begun.
Cardinal McCarrick congratulates valedictorian Catherine Rubio
Cardinal McCarrick noted with appreciation how both senior speakers had thanked their benefactors. He recounted how the school was founded and credited the Salesians with providing their best men for the school; the cardinal almost canonized Fr. Steve Shafran. He credited Cardinal Wuerl as an outstanding educator who “grabbed” the Cristo Rey idea and got it implemented, especially by calling upon the “magic” of Msgr. John Enzler, the archdiocese’s vicar of development. He credited the business community for partnering so well with DBCR. And he commended the senior class for rising to the occasion and making their dreams happen, and their parents for standing behind their sons and daughters.
Then the cardinal got down to his real message. He implored the graduates-to-be to show their appreciation for all the blessings that God has given them by sharing those blessings with others who are needy and need help, as they have received help in their own need. He cited the book of Proverbs: “Better a dish of herbs where love is than a fatted ox and hatred with it” (15:17). The seniors, he said, have learned the difference that love makes—in their school, in their workplaces, and in life. “Let there be love in your life,” he urged.
The graduating seniors process as their names are called, to receive their diplomas from Cardinal McCarrick, and then DBCR president Fr. Steve Shafran flips the tassels on their mortarboards.
Following the conferral of diplomas, Alicia Bondanella, director of DBCR’s corporate work study program, addressed the graduates and the guests. She observed that the seniors had raised $2,000,000 for the school through the work they did for their corporate employers. She told the graduates that they’d done outstanding jobs, had learned skills, and had built relationships. Since they had already proven themselves successful, their success would continue.
Fr. John Serio, DBCR’s principal, was the final speaker on the program. He echoed Cardinal McCarrick’s appeal that the graduates should pay attention to the world and to the people around them, set examples of a high standard of excellence, and help other people. Telling them that they, as the founding class of DBCR, were leaving a legacy at the school but weren’t leaving the school, he invited them to remain helpfully present to the classes behind them.
The commencement rites concluded with the presentation of seven awards. Five graduates were the first to receive the Don Bosco Award, which “captures the heart of Don Bosco Cristo Rey High School” and recognizes the honorees’ character, service, and leadership in the fields of academics, corporate work, and extracurricular activities. Each was presented with a small statue of Don Bosco and two students.
A sixth student, Julio Hernandez, was recognized as the Outstanding Graduate, “demonstrating superior qualities and virtue in all aspects of student life…the individual we desire other students to emulate.” Julio received a plaque from Cardinal McCarrick.

Finally, the cardinal himself was given the Don Bosco Award in recognition of his contributions to education, to ecumenism, and to assisting the world’s poorest people.
The faculty and administration processed into the center aisle of the basilica, and then the graduates filed down the aisle, thanking their teacher-friends one by one on their way to the church’s main door, where their proud parents and families waited in warm sunshine to congratulate them.
Celebrates 1st Commencement
Cardinal Theodore McCarrick, archbishop emeritus of Washington, presided over the commencement exercises and gave the principal address to the graduates. Cardinal McCarrick first invited the Salesians to accept a parish in the archdiocese (Nativity, in Washington) and then initiated the process of founding the school together with the Salesians. His successor, now-Cardinal Donald Wuerl, followed up on the initiative and presided over the school’s opening, its expansion, and its first baccalaureate Mass.
The faculty led the senior class into the basilica, to the tune of Elgar’s “Pomp and Circumstance.” The administration and principal guests—
Jenifer Moreno was the salutatorian. She was described as someone who embodies the teaching of St. Francis to preach the Gospel always, using words if necessary. She is going to attend the University of West Virginia with the intention of becoming a transplant surgeon. She spoke of her class’s pride in what they’ve accomplished, of their gratitude toward all who have encouraged them, especially their parents, and of the sense of responsibility that they bear to carry on what they’ve begun.
Valedictorian Catherine Rubio was noted as a student always ready to help others and one who balanced very well the demands of school, work, and family. She’ll attend Georgetown, aiming to become a radiologist. In her speech, she pointed out how the school plant had grown during their four years, the student body had grown, and this class had matured. She said that the seniors, observing their teachers’ dedication, had responded by studying hard. She cited the school’s slogan of “faith, family, future, and fun” and showed how those were embodied in the relationship with God they had developed, in the school’s family atmosphere, in the futures opening before the graduates, and in numerous school activities (including an occasion when students got to “pie” some of their teachers).
Cardinal McCarrick noted with appreciation how both senior speakers had thanked their benefactors. He recounted how the school was founded and credited the Salesians with providing their best men for the school; the cardinal almost canonized Fr. Steve Shafran. He credited Cardinal Wuerl as an outstanding educator who “grabbed” the Cristo Rey idea and got it implemented, especially by calling upon the “magic” of Msgr. John Enzler, the archdiocese’s vicar of development. He credited the business community for partnering so well with DBCR. And he commended the senior class for rising to the occasion and making their dreams happen, and their parents for standing behind their sons and daughters.
Following the conferral of diplomas, Alicia Bondanella, director of DBCR’s corporate work study program, addressed the graduates and the guests. She observed that the seniors had raised $2,000,000 for the school through the work they did for their corporate employers. She told the graduates that they’d done outstanding jobs, had learned skills, and had built relationships. Since they had already proven themselves successful, their success would continue.
Fr. John Serio, DBCR’s principal, was the final speaker on the program. He echoed Cardinal McCarrick’s appeal that the graduates should pay attention to the world and to the people around them, set examples of a high standard of excellence, and help other people. Telling them that they, as the founding class of DBCR, were leaving a legacy at the school but weren’t leaving the school, he invited them to remain helpfully present to the classes behind them.
The commencement rites concluded with the presentation of seven awards. Five graduates were the first to receive the Don Bosco Award, which “captures the heart of Don Bosco Cristo Rey High School” and recognizes the honorees’ character, service, and leadership in the fields of academics, corporate work, and extracurricular activities. Each was presented with a small statue of Don Bosco and two students.
A sixth student, Julio Hernandez, was recognized as the Outstanding Graduate, “demonstrating superior qualities and virtue in all aspects of student life…the individual we desire other students to emulate.” Julio received a plaque from Cardinal McCarrick.
Finally, the cardinal himself was given the Don Bosco Award in recognition of his contributions to education, to ecumenism, and to assisting the world’s poorest people.
The faculty and administration processed into the center aisle of the basilica, and then the graduates filed down the aisle, thanking their teacher-friends one by one on their way to the church’s main door, where their proud parents and families waited in warm sunshine to congratulate them.
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