Father Mark: September 2006 Archives

ENTRANCE ANTIPHON

GR
All that you have done to us, O Lord, you have done in true justice, for we have sinned against you and we have failed to obey your commandments; but give glory to your name and deal with us according to the multitude of your mercy. V. Blessed are those whose way is blameless, who walk in the law of the Lord (Dan 3:31, 29, 30, 43, 42; Ps 118:1).

COLLECT

O God, who manifest your almighty power
most of all in showing mercy and granting pardon;
multiply your grace upon us
that we, running toward your promises,
may be made sharers in the good things of heaven.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God, forever and ever.

Thérèse is so often referred to as “little,” that we risk not seeing the breadth and depth that are really characteristic of her, and the immensity of her desires. Paradoxically, there is nothing small, nothing narrow in this painfully sensitive middle-class girl who, at fifteen years of age, closed herself up in Carmel with a certain number of saints, a certain number of women not altogether right in the head, her own sisters, and one rather unusual prioress. Once Thérèse opened herself to the workings of the Holy Spirit, her heart began to expand — even in the midst of real emotional, spiritual, and physical sufferings, — until it reached the dazzling dimensions of the charity of Christ.

In the beginning of her journey, Thérèse recognized herself in the classic lines of every feminine vocation: “To be your spouse, O Jesus, to be a Carmelite, to be, by virtue of my union with you, the mother of souls, this ought to be enough for me . . . but it is not so . . . I feel other vocations within myself . . . O my Jesus! To all these crazy aspirations of mine what will you reply? Today, you want to fulfill other desires of mine bigger than the universe.”

The liturgy, rather audaciously, applies the prophecy of Isaiah to Thérèse. “Rejoice with Jerusalem” becomes “Rejoice with Thérèse and be glad because of her, all you who love her” (Is 66:10). The passion of Thérèse was to love and to be loved. And love was given her. It rushed upon her like a river, invaded her like an overflowing torrent. She dared to open herself to immense desires, and God gave to her with immensity.

Many of us have loved Thérèse for a long time, loved her as a sister, a friend very close to us, someone capable of understanding both the little things that make up our day to day lives and the big things that weigh heavily on us at certain moments, testing our faith in love and causing hope’s little flame to flicker. We are all, I think, fond of repeating that promise of hers that has been translated into countless languages, and rightly so: “If the good God grants my desires, my heaven will be spent on earth even until the end of the world. Yes, I want to spend my heaven doing good on earth.”

If we are to share in the spiritual experience of Thérèse, it will not be by the hammer blows of a steel willpower, nor by dint of effort and striving, nor by a glorious record of victories. It is not by going up but rather by going down, by descending into the last holdouts of our weakness, into the emptiness of a terrible and magnificent poverty, that we will find ourselves with Thérèse in the peace of the weaned child on its mother’s lap (Ps 130:2).

There, in an intimacy open to the little, the broken, and the poor, and closed to everyone else, the Father surprises the friends of Thérèse with the mysteries of the kingdom hidden from the learned and the clever, and revealed to children (Lk 10:21). God waits for us, not on the summits of perfection with crown in hand to reward what we, of ourselves, may have done. He waits for us rather with all the tenderness of His motherly heart, exactly where we fall weak, bruised, humiliated, and reduced to powerlessness. Yes, we fall, but only to discover with amazement that it is into the bosom of the Father. There, in the gentleness of the Spirit, the Son waits to welcome us, saying, “Come to me, all who labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Mt 11:28).

On the lips of Thérèse, this word — “Father” — learned from the lips of Jesus, was, in some way, reinvented for our times. On the lips of Thérèse, the word “Father” was rescued from the bland formulas of a piety past its expiration date, to be pronounced for our world and for our time with the radical newness of the Gospel. If we learn anything at all from this twenty-four year old Doctor of the Church, let it be this: to dare to say “Father” in the breath of the Holy Spirit, to dare to call God “Father” with the boldness of the little, the poor, and the half crazy, a boldness that shocks the custodians of a religion of convention and routine to speak the Gospel again to those who, hoping against all hope, believe in Love.

I think that the best book I ever read on lectio divina is one by Denys Gorce. I read it back in 1972 and I think it was entitled, La lectio divina dans le milieu de saint Jérôme. It left its mark on me. Then there was William of St–Thierry's classic, The Golden Epistle or The Letter to the Brothers of Mont–Dieu, and Guigo the Carthusian's Scala Claustralium, The Ladder of Monks. Sometime later in the 70s, I read the French translation of Enzo Bianchi's book on the same subject, Prier la Parole. It is now available in English as Praying the Word: An Introduction to Lectio Divina.

I find it a little disquieting that lectio divina has become a trendy phrase in some circles. There are a lot of pop–spirituality publications in Catholic bookstores that claim to present an introduction to lectio divina. Most of them, especially those written from outside the monastic tradition, fall short of doing that. Folks use the expression lectio divina without knowing what it really means. I have heard it used to describe reflections on the Word of God in a group, meditative reading of any pious text, and a systematic cover–to–cover reading of the Bible. It is none of these things. So, what is lectio divina?

The primary form of lectio divina is corporate and ecclesial; it is the Church herself hearing the Word, repeating the Word, praying the Word, and abiding in the Word, all within the context of the Sacred Liturgy (Divine Office and Mass). The corporate lectio divina of the Church, be it within the Divine Office or the Mass, has a Eucharistic finality. The movement is always from the ambo to the altar.

The secondary form of lectio divina is solitary and personal; it derives from the first and even imitates its pattern. It prepares one for the Sacred Liturgy and prolongs it.

The solitary and personal form of lectio divina is:

1. A kind of liturgy of the Word celebrated in solitude.
2. Patterned after the Church's corporate lectio divina: the Night Office (Vigils) with its rhythm of reading, responsory, and prayer, and after the Liturgy of the Word of the Mass.
3. Honours the discipline of obedience to the liturgical lectionary.
4. Best done in the same place and at the same time each day.

September 30
Saint Jerome, Priest and Doctor of the Church

2 Timothy 3:14-17
Psalm 118: 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14
Matthew 13: 47-52

Meditating Day and Night

The liturgy presents Saint Jerome today as the “man who meditated on the law of the Lord day and night” (Ps 1:2). Thus did he bring forth “fruit in due season” (Ps 1:3). The “law of the Lord” in today’s Entrance Antiphon is the Word of God, “alive and active” (Heb 4:12). It is the Word that springs to life, rising from the pages of Sacred Scripture, so often as we listen to it proclaimed (lectio), repeat it (meditatio), pray it (oratio), and remain with it in an adoring silence (contemplatio).

Fecundity

Psalm 1 links the ceaseless meditation of the Word of God to fruitfulness. “He shall be like a tree planted near running waters, which shall bring forth its fruit, in due season” (Ps 1:2). The fruit promised in the psalm is fulfilled in the mystery revealed by Jesus while at table with his disciples on the night before he suffered: “By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit” (Jn 15:8). Lectio divina is the secret of supernatural fecundity. “If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you will, and it shall be done for you” (Jn 15:7).

Vitality

The fruits of the Holy Spirit — the evidence of a thriving, healthy inner life — flourish wheresoever the Word of God is proclaimed (lectio), repeated (meditatio), prayed (oratio), and held in the heart (contemplatio). It is an irrefutable fact of monastic history, demonstrated by our dear old friend, Dom Jean Leclercq, that whenever lectio divina was neglected, monastic life fell into a sterile decadence, losing its vitality; it is also an irrefutable fact of history that whenever lectio divina is practiced with generosity, devotion, and zeal, monastic life brings forth the fruits of holiness in abundance.

Jerome and the Monastic Path

Jerome, translator of the original Hebrew and Greek texts of the Bible into Latin, the tongue of the common folk, was a lover of the poor Christ. He sang the praises of monastic solitude, saying that “monks do on earth what the angels do in heaven.” We owe to Jerome the theology that sees in monastic profession a kind of second baptism, washing away sin just like martyrdom. It is Jerome who teaches us that the martyrdom of the monastic life is won not by the struggles of continence alone, but by the choice of poverty, and by perseverance in the praise of God.

Jerome was baptized during his student days in Rome. After a first attempt at monastic living in the deserts of Syria, he went to Antioch and there was ordained a priest. With an almost obsessive passion, he devoted himself to the study of Hebrew and Greek. Tutored by none other than Saint Gregory Nazianzen in Constantinople, Jerome went on to Rome where Pope Saint Damasus charged him with the revision of the Latin Bible.

Crankiness and Sanctity

In Rome, Jerome never really got on with other clergy. He was not ambitious for ecclesiastical promotion. He was irascible, dipping his pen more often into vinegar than honey. Jerome loved nothing so much as good squabble, and argued bitterly and at great length with his critics and adversaries. He had little time for trivial niceties.

ENTRANCE ANTIPHON

Blessed is the man
who meditates on the law of the Lord day and night;
he shall bring forth fruit in due season (Ps 1:2-3).

ACT OF PENITENCE

Your statutes have become our song
in the land of exile (Ps 118:54).
Kyrie, eleison.

Your promise is sweeter to our taste
than honey in the mouth (Ps 118:103).
Christe, eleison.

Your word is a lamp for our steps
and a light for our path (Ps 118:105).
Kyrie, eleison.

COLLECT

O God,
who gave your priest Saint Jerome
a sweet and living passion for Sacred Scripture,
grant that your people
may be more abundantly nourished by your word,
and find in it the wellspring of life.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God, forever and ever.

My sister, Donna M. Kirby Cable learned today, on the feast of Saint Michael the Archangel, that she passed the Connecticut State Bar Examination. We are all very proud of Donna. Donna is married to Wayne Cable; they have two children: Sean and Lauren. The Cables live in Woodbridge, Connecticut.

I have always experienced the last days of September and the first week of October (September 29 — October 7) as a moment of spiritual enchantment within the Church Year. Is it the intoxicating effect of Saint Michael's Summer with the peculiar quality of its light? Is it the procession of saints that passes before our eyes, or should I say, through our hearts? These are days almost excessively rich in grace.

Saints Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael descend first on September 29th, in a cloud of incense and a blaze of light. Christ Himself is all their beauty: decus angelorum. Ask them to teach you to gaze with faith and with holy desire upon the Face of Christ, the Human Face of God.

SEPTEMBER 29
SAINTS MICHAEL, GABRIEL, AND RAPHAEL, ARCHANGELS

Daniel 7:9-10, 13-14
Apocalypse 12: 7-12ab
Psalm 137:1-2ab, 2cde-3, 4-5
John 1:45-51

Angels Everywhere

One of the most striking things about Rome’s churches — and about Italian churches in general — is that they are full of representations of the angels. American churches in contrast, especially those built in the last fifty years, are strangely devoid of angelic imagery. In Italian churches there are angels everywhere: all sorts of angels. There are majestic angels of graceful athletic appearance, angels in splendid apparel playing musical instruments, and playful little angels with fat cheeks and chubby legs. In Italian churches, one is always conscious of praising God in conspectu angelorum, “in the sight of the angels” (Ps 137:1).

The Angels at Santa Croce in Gerusalemme

In the Basilica of Santa Croce in Gerusalemme, the angels are associated with the mystery of the Cross. The glorious Cross is depicted throughout the basilica and around it there are always angels — jubilant, praising, adoring, wondering angels! There is a theology in this iconography of the Cross. The mystery of the Cross astonishes even the angels. The mystery of the Cross casts them into a state of unspeakable amazement. They look upon the wood of the Cross and praise the “secret and hidden wisdom of God” (1 Cor 2:7). They look upon the wood of the Cross and adore the Precious Blood that stains it. They look upon the wood of the Cross and confess it as mankind’s only hope. O Crux, ave, spes unica! One cannot visit Jerusalem in Rome, the Basilica of Santa Croce, without realizing that the mystery of the Cross has become the everlasting joy of the angels.

ENTRANCE ANTIPHON

MR
Bless the Lord, O you his angels,
you mighty in strength who do his word,
hearkening to the voice of his word (Ps 102:20).

COLLECT

O God, who have constituted
in a wonderful order the ministries of angels and men:
be pleased to grant that our life here on earth
may be protected by those who stand in readiness
to serve you in heaven.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God, forever and ever.

Today’s memorial of the Filipino Saint Lorenzo Ruiz illustrates the marvelous universalization of the Church’s calendar that took place during the pontificate of Pope John Paul II. Saint Lorenzo’s descendants still live today in the same district outside Manila where he and his family lived in the 1600s. Saint Lorenzo was a husband and father, a professional calligrapher by trade, a saint who spoke Tagalog, Chinese, and Spanish, a martyr who gave his life for Christ in Japan, far from family and home. He was canonized by Pope John Paul II, together with other Filipino martyrs, in 1987.

ACEDIA: A common malady of the soul manifesting itself in despondency, depression, listlessness, a particular distate for spiritual things, and a distaste for life in general without any specific reason.

THURSDAY OF THE TWENTY–FIFTH WEEK OF THE YEAR II
MEMORIAL OF SAINT LORENZO RUIZ AND COMPANIONS, MARTYRS

Ecclesiastes 1:2-11
Psalm 89:3-4, 5-6, 12-13, 14-17
Luke 9:7-9

All Is Vanity

The beginning of the book of Ecclesiastes is dismal and pessimistic. “Vanity of vanities, vanity of vanities! All is vanity” (Eccl 1:2). Qoheleth looks around and sees the same old things interminably recycled. He sounds jaded, bored, and depressed. “All things are full of weariness; a man cannot utter it; the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing” (Eccl 1:8). Qoheleth —his name means “the preacher in the assembly”— is hardly a bearer of good cheer and glad tidings. “The fate of the sons of men,” he says, “and the fate of beasts is the same, as one dies, so dies the other” (Eccl 3:19).

Nothing New Under the Sun

In the monastic life, especially after thirty, forty, or fifty years, one begins to ask the same questions posed by Qoheleth. “What does man gain by all the toil at which he toils under the sun” (Eccl 1:3)? One feels that nothing really matters, that nothing will ever change in others, in myself, or in the colour of the paint on the walls. “What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done; and there is nothing new under the sun” (Eccl 1:9).

Michael Dennis Kirby
March 20, 1959 — November 25, 1998

When I was growing up, there was a statue of Saint Vincent de Paul in our home. More exactly, it was in the bedroom of my younger brother Michael, and it was his statue.

Little Michael had shortened Saint Vincent de Paul's rather long name to “Saint-Vincenty.” He met “Saint Vincenty” when he was taken to the Hospital of Saint Raphael in New Haven, Connecticut for a surgical procedure on his arm. He couldn’t have been more than five years old at the time. Saint Raphael’s was staffed by the Sisters of Charity of Saint Elizabeth (Convent Station, NJ), spiritual daughters of Saint Vincent.

A lifesize statue of Saint Vincent de Paul figured prominently in the hospital. The statue depicted him with three poor children; one child was in his arms and the two others were huddled in the folds of his cloak. For some reason, little Michael was very taken with this saint who loved children, and wanted to have a statue of his own.

Mom and Dad found exactly the right statue at the Saint Thomas More Book Shop on Chapel Street in New Haven, and bought it for him. For many years “Saint Vincenty” watched over Michael from atop a chest of drawers, becoming chipped and battered, but no less loved.

How did a seventeenth century French priest become a comforting presence in the life of a little boy in New Haven, Connecticut? There were, of course, the obvious mediations: the Hospital of Saint Raphael and the impressive statue. But none of this would have happened had Saint Vincent de Paul not opened his heart to the Word of God, to the Charity of Jesus Christ, and to the voices of the little and the poor.

I am thinking today of the important work that my friend Terry Nelson at Leaflet Missal and others like him do. They make images of the saints available to little children, influencing their lives, and stimulating their imaginations with "sacred signs." Every little boy should have his favourite saint . . . and an image of him (or her) close at hand.

WEDNESDAY OF THE TWENTY–FIFTH WEEK OF THE YEAR II
MEMORIAL OF SAINT VINCENT DE PAUL, PRIEST

Proverbs 30:5–9
Psalm 118:29, 72, 89, 101, 104, 163 (R. 105a)
Luke 9:1–6

Live Wisely

The Book of Proverbs that we began reading on Monday is a practical guide to wise living. The wise person is one who orders his whole life — both the little things and the great — to the pursuit of the Good, the True, and the Beautiful.

In today’s passage we are told that “ every word of God proves true,” and that God “is a shield to those who take refuge in Him” (Pr 30:5). What are the implications of these sayings? The first assures us that one can rely on the Word of God, that one can depend on it, anchor one’s hope in it, and stake one’s life on it. The second tell us that in the midst of life’s tribulations and temptations the only safe place is in God. In both sayings we find the wisdom of Saint Vincent de Paul whom we remember today, and of all the saints.

ENTRANCE ANTIPHON

MR
The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to preach good news to the poor,
and to heal the contrite of heart (cf. Lk 4:18).

COLLECT

O God, who for the salvation of the poor
and the instruction of the clergy
endowed the blessed priest Vincent with apostolic virtues,
grant, we pray,
that inflamed by that same spirit,
we may both loved what he loved
and carry out what he taught.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God, forever and ever.

September 26th is also the feast of Saint Thérèse Couderc (1805–1885), an old friend of mine. Immensely humble, the foundress of the Religious of Our Lady of Retreat in the Cenacle suffered calumny, rejection, betrayal, and endless humiliations without becoming hard and bitter. Just look at that face! She remained serene and confident in God. Mother Thérèse Couderc was, to use her own favourite word, utterly livrée, that is, handed over to God. In her honour, I decided to translate a page of her writings today. Here it is:

What does it mean to hand oneself over? I understand the full extent of the meaning of the expression, to hand oneself over, but I cannot explain it. I know only that it is very vast, that it encompasses the present and the future.

To hand oneself over is more than to devote oneself, it is more even than to abandon oneself to God. To hand oneself over is, in fine, to die to all things and to oneself, to have no more preoccupation with self apart from keeping oneself always turned toward God.

Again, To hand oneself over is is to seek oneself no longer in anything, not in things spiritual, nor in things temporal; it is to seek no satisfaction for self, but only God's good pleasure.

I must add that to hand oneself over is also that spirit of detachment by which one holds onto nothing: not to persons, nor to things, nor to times, nor to places. It is to adhere to everything to accept everything, to submit oneself to everything.

You will perhaps think that this is very difficult to do. Get this straight. Nothing is easier to do. Nothing is sweeter to put into practice. The whole thing is to make once and for all a generous act, saying with all the sincerity of one's soul: "My God, I want to be all yours. Deign to accept my offering." That says it all. Be careful thenceforth to keep yourself in this disposition of soul and not to pull back from any of the little sacrifices which may serve to our advancement in virtue. Recall that you are handed over.

I pray Our Lord to give the intelligence of this expression to all the souls desirous of pleasing Him, and to inspire them [to practice] so easy a means of sanctification. Oh! If only one could understand ahead of time the sweetness and the peace that one tastes when one no longer places any reserve in the way of the Good God. How He communicates Himself to the soul who seeks Him sincerely and who has known how to hand herself over. Let one experience it and one will see that happiness is there and that, without it, one searches for happiness in vain.

The soul that is handed over has found paradise on earth, since she enjoys that gentle peace that is part of the happiness of the elect.

A recent experience finally pushed me over the edge. Has anyone really read, pencil in hand, Redemptionis Sacramentum, the 2004 Instruction of the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments? The wanton proliferation of Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion in circumstances that do not meet the criteria established by the Holy See is a pastoral problem with grave theological implications. Liturgical practice has a direct bearing on one's understanding of the faith.

A few observations based on the text of the Instruction:

[154.] As has already been recalled, "the only minister who can confect the Sacrament of the Eucharist in persona Christi is a validly ordained Priest". Hence the name "minister of the Eucharist" belongs properly to the Priest alone. Moreover, also by reason of their sacred Ordination, the ordinary ministers of Holy Communion are the Bishop, the Priest and the Deacon, to whom it belongs therefore to administer Holy Communion to the lay members of Christ's faithful during the celebration of Mass.

[156.] This function is to be understood strictly according to the name by which it is known, that is to say, that of extraordinary minister of Holy Communion, and not "special minister of Holy Communion" nor "extraordinary minister of the Eucharist" nor "special minister of the Eucharist", by which names the meaning of this function is unnecessarily and improperly broadened.

Words are important. A slack vocabulary leads to a slack theology. I still hear the term "Eucharistic Minister" used by clergy and laity as in, "Nellie is a Eucharistic Minister", or even worse, in the sacristy before Mass, "Good Morning, Father. I am Nellie, your Eucharistic Minister."

The use of Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion is not a means of fostering fuller participation in the Sacred Liturgy. It is not a way of honoring the generous and faithful parishioner. It is not a way of making Mr. X. or Mrs Y. feel needed and useful. The Sacred Liturgy is hierarchically, not sentimentally, ordered.

Saints of the Roman Canon

From the end of the fourth century right up to 1970 the Mass of the Roman Rite was never celebrated without commemorating today’s martyrs, Saints Cosmas and Damian. The names of Cosmas and Damian are enshrined in the “Communicantes” prayer of the Roman Canon. For well over a thousand years, the Roman Canon was the only Eucharistic Prayer of the Roman Church. The fact that the names of Cosmas and Damian were pronounced in every single Mass celebrated from the time of Saint Gregory the Great to that of Paul VI has conferred on them an aura of venerable familiarity. They are inscribed in the collective Catholic memory.

Loved in the East

Looking Eastward, we see a similar attachment to Saints Cosmas and Damian. They are named explicitly at every Byzantine Divine Liturgy at the moment of the preparation of the bread and wine. Placing a piece of bread on the holy diskos, the priest says, “In honour and memory of the holy, wonderworking, and Moneyless Ones . . . and all the holy physicians labouring without pay.” Moneyless physicians labouring without pay! What a marvelous notion! One begins to understand why Saints Cosmas and Damian came to occupy a place of choice in the affection of the Christian people.

Brother Damiano Maria, O.Cist. of the Abbey of Santa Croce in Gerusalemme in Rome celebrates his patronal feast today. Brother Damiano, "truly seeking God" as Saint Benedict says in the Holy Rule, brought his marvelous smile from Zambia to Rome. Together with English Brother Giuseppe–Benedetto, he made simple monastic profession on June 24, 2005. Santa Croce in Gerusalemme is an international monastic community living at the heart of the Church. Its members hail from Italy, Roumania, Mexico, the United States, England, Zambia, and Sweden. A daughter house opened this past August in Guadalajara, Mexico. The monks of Santa Croce combine the liturgical service of the Divine Majesty, lectio divina, and Eucharistic adoration with the pastoral care of pilgrims to the Sacred Relics of the Cross and Passion in the Basilica and other forms of service to the Church. If you are interested in this expression of monastic life or know someone who may be, contact me.

In an altar retable painted in thanksgiving for the end of the plague that devastated Venice in 1510, Titian shows (lower left) Saints Cosmas and Damian, the holy physician martyrs together with (lower right) Saints Roch and Sebastian. Enthroned above them is Saint Mark the Evangelist, patron of Venice. While Saint Roch and Saint Sebastian represent the sick and wounded, Saints Cosmas and Damian represent those who minister the healing power of Christ.

COLLECT

May the venerable memory
of your saints Cosmas and Damian
magnify you, O Lord,
for in your ineffable providence,
you have bestowed upon them eternal glory
and upon us the richness of your help.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God, forever and ever.

O grande Passion,
O profondes plaies,
O effusion de Sang,
O mort soufferte dans toutes les amertumes,
donnez–nous la vie!

O great Passion,
O deep wounds,
O outpouring of Blood,
O death suffered in every bitterness,
give us life!

TWENTY–FIFTH SUNDAY OF THE YEAR B

Wisdom 2:12, 17:20
Psalm 54:1-2, 3, 4, 6
James 3:16—4:3
Mark 9:30-37

A Walking Retreat

Did you recognize yourself in today’s gospel? I know that I did. It was something of a shock. I recognized myself not in Jesus, nor in the little child that He took into His arms, but in those who walked with Him, not understanding what He said, and afraid to ask Him about it. “He was teaching His disciples, saying to them, ‘The Son of Man will be delivered into the hands of men, and they will kill Him; and when He is killed, after three days He will rise.’ But they did not understand the saying, and they were afraid to ask Him” (Mk 9:31-32).

Jesus and His followers are passing through Galilee. Jesus wants to go unnoticed by the population so as to devote himself to those nearest to Him. He wants to use the journey through Galilee to teach His disciples, to draw them closer to himself. It is a kind of “walking retreat.”

"And he took a child, and put him in the midst of them" (Mark 9:36).

We have depicted Jesus as Child and as King
in order to attract souls to Him more easily
and to give them confident trust and hope.
We also wanted to recall that it is by His Divine Heart,
full of mercy and of love for humanity
that we shall obtain peace in the world.
(Mother Yvonne–Aimée)

Today's Gospel is, in some way, an invitation to make known the Little Invocation that has changed so many lives, healed so many hearts, and set so many souls in the way of ceaseless prayer. Some time ago, a certain monk who had tried for many years to practice the ceaseless prayer of the heart came upon a biography of Mother Yvonne–Aimée (1901–1951), and learned of the prayer, "O Jesus, King of Love, I put my trust in thy merciful goodness." One day, kneeling before the Blessed Sacrament, he realized that the prayer was repeating itself ceaselessly and effortlessly in his heart. He found himself praying the Little Invocation at every waking moment and even during the night, in a way similar to the "Jesus Prayer" of monks of the Eastern Church. Over the years, the grace of ceaseless prayer by means of the Little Invocation has not abated. It is always there: a gentle murmur of confidence bubbling up from the depths of the heart.

Individuals from all walks of life, having received the Little Invocation as a penance in Confession, attest to the graces received: graces of inner healing, of victory over persistent and deeply rooted habits of sin, of trust in the mercy of Christ, and of a ceaseless prayer of the heart.

"And he took a child, and put him in the midst of them;
and taking him in his arms, he said to them,
'Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me;
and whoever receives me,
receives not me but him who sent me'" (Mark 9:36–37).

My nephew, Michael Colin Kirby, seems to be part of the icon of Christ with the little children on the wall behind him. In today's Mass, Our Lord draws us into the way of spiritual childhood and humble service. The Mass opens with Christ Himelf singing to His Church the strong and reassuring words, "Salus populi ego sum" (Ps 77:1). "I am the salvation, the wholeness, the happiness of the people." One who takes that message to heart willingly places his life in the hands of Christ and follows Him, trusting in His merciful goodness.

ENTRANCE ANTIPHON

GR
I am the salvation of the people, says the Lord. From whatever tribulations they cry out to me, I will give heed to them, and I will be their Lord forever (Cf. Ps 36: 39-40). V. Attend, O my people to my law; incline your ear to the words of my mouth (Ps 77:1).

There is a verse in the book of Ezra that is, I think, a wonderful expression of the life and mission of Saint Pio of Pietrelcina: “The Levites, every one of whom had purified himself for the occasion, sacrificed the Passover for the rest of the exiles, for their brethren the priests, and for themselves” (Ez 6:20). Padre Pio's life was a long and uninterrupted celebration of the Pasch of the Lord. Configured to Jesus Crucified, Priest and Victim, Padre Pio offered himself to the Father in the daily Sacrifice of the Mass. Saint Pio’s paschal immolation — his participation in the Cross of Christ — was for the sake of "the rest of the exiles," all of us who go mourning and weeping in this valley of tears. And it was for the sake of "his brethren": for all priests called to follow him in a life of paschal purity and victimhood,

ENTRANCE ANTIPHON

MR
God forbid that I should glory
except in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ,
through which the world is crucified to me,
and I to the world (Gal 6:14).

Joy of wild wind and wetness
Fresh in my face and playing in my hair
And seagulls in the waves
To feed with bits of bread.

Michael Colin Kirby turned three years old on June 2nd and began pre–school two weeks ago. Besides running on the beach, learning about dinosaurs, fishing with his Dad Terence, and spending time with Mom Sandy and little sister Mary, he kisses icons, lights candles, and attends the Divine Liturgy on Sunday with his wonderful godmother Elisa Maistrellis–Ryng.

I remembered at the altar today the Matthews who have come into my life over the years: my brother, Daniel Joseph Matthew; my friend, Raphael Matthew W.; Sister Matthew Maria, A.S.C.J., and others. Caravaggio's "Call of Matthew" is a meditatio on the lectio of today's Gospel. It gives rise to oratio and leads to contemplatio. I am amazed at Caravaggio's ability to depict in shadow and in light the struggle of the soul to escape the darkness of sin and the mysterious inbreaking of divine light. The artist's own struggles with the great human passions — and with sin — made him, in his own way, an evangelist of the mercy of God.

SEPTEMBER 21
SAINT MATTHEW, APOSTLE AND EVANGELIST

Ephesians 4:1–7, 11–13
Psalm 18: 1–2, 3–4ab (R. 4a)
Matthew 9:9–13

The Inbreaking Light

On this feast of Saint Matthew, it is the Apostle and Evangelist himself who relates what happened the day Jesus passed by, saw him, and called him, saying, “Follow me” (Mt 9:9). I have been looking at Caravaggio’s famous painting of the call of Saint Matthew. Caravaggio places the event inside a dark house. The only light comes from an open window just above the head of Christ; it illuminates the face of Matthew seated at his counting table. Matthew has the somewhat jaded fleshy face of a prosperous banker. He is well dressed and is wearing a kind of velvet cap.

Today's Mass sings of the ineffable mercy of God who chose Saint Matthew to cling to Him as resolutely and doggedly as he once clung to his money. The opening phrase of he Postcommunion might better be translated as, "Ours, O Lord, is the joy of new found wholeness"! The coming of Christ the Saviour brings salvation. The coming of Christ the Healer brings health to soul and body. The Most Holy Eucharist restores the broken to wholeness in anticipation of the Kingdom where He who sits upon the throne will say, "Behold, I make all things new" (Ap 21:5).

ENTRANCE ANTIPHON

MR
Go therefore and make disciples of all nations,
baptizing them,
and teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you,
says the Lord (Mt 28:19–20)

That is exactly what His Holiness, Pope Leo XIII did on June 11, 1899 in his Act of Consecration of the Human Race to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. He called this "the great act" of his pontificate.

The Holy Father presented his intentions to the Catholic world in the encyclical Annum Sacrum on May 25, 1899:

"But shall We allow to slip from Our remembrance those innumerable others upon whom the light of Christian truth has not yet shined? We hold the place of Him who came to save that which was lost, and who shed His blood for the salvation of the whole human race. And so We greatly desire to bring to the true life those who sit in the shadow of death. As we have already sent messengers of Christ over the earth to instruct them, so now, in pity for their lot with all Our soul we commend them, and as far as in us lies We consecrate them to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. In this way this act of devotion, which We recommend, will be a blessing to all."

Then, on June 11, 1899, in communion with the bishops of the world, he prayed:

Most sweet Jesus, Redeemer of the human race . . . Be Thou King of all those who are still involved in the darkness of idolatry and Islamism, and refuse not to draw them all into the light and kingdom of God.

Almighty and ever-living God,
who gave to Saint Gaetano, your priest,
the knowledge of your glory shining in the Face of Christ,
mercifully grant that we
who rejoice today in his memory,
may imitate his love for that same Holy Face
concealed in the Sacrament of the Altar
and in the poorest and most forsaken of your children.
Through the same our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God, forever and ever.

Or:

Stir up, O Lord, in our hearts
the spirit of adoration and reparation
that filled Saint Gaetano, your priest,
that we, having our eyes fixed, like his,
on the Holy Face of Jesus,
may live in ceaseless prayer
and in the humble service of those
most in need of compassion.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God, forever and ever.

An Intuition of the Servant of God, Pope John Paul II

In his encyclical Ecclesia de Eucharistia, Pope John Paul II drew the eyes of the Church to the Face of Christ in the sacrament of the Eucharist. He coined a new phrase, one not encountered before in his writings or in the teachings of his predecessors, “the Eucharistic Face of Christ.” Thus did Pope John Paul II share with the Church his own experience of seeking, finding, and adoring the Face of Christ in the Eucharist.

To contemplate the face of Christ, and to contemplate it with Mary, is the “programme” which I have set before the Church at the dawn of the third millennium, summoning her to put out into the deep on the sea of history with the enthusiasm of the new evangelization. To contemplate Christ involves being able to recognize him wherever he manifests himself, in his many forms of presence, but above all in the living sacrament of his Body and Blood. The Church draws her life from Christ in the Eucharist; by him she is fed and by him she is enlightened. The Eucharist is both a mystery of faith and a “mystery of light.” Whenever the Church celebrates the Eucharist, the faithful can in some way relive the experience of the two disciples on the road to Emmaus: “their eyes were opened and they recognized him” (Lk 24:31). . . . I cannot let this Holy Thursday 2003 pass without halting before the “Eucharistic face” of Christ and pointing out with new force to the Church the centrality of the Eucharist.

The Face of Christ Turned Toward Us

The experience of the disciples on the road to Emmaus culminated in their eyes being opened to see the Eucharistic Face of Christ. “When he was at table with them, he took the bread and blessed, and broke it, and gave it to them. And their eyes were opened and they recognized him; and he vanished out of their sight” (Lk 24:30-31). Christ vanished from the sight of the disciples, leaving in their hearts a mysterious burning (cf. Lk 24:32), and the broken Bread that at once conceals and reveals his Eucharistic Face. In the Eucharist the Face of Christ is turned toward us. The Eucharistic Face of Christ waits to meet the gaze of our faith, waits to be sought and recognized, adored and implored. “We see now through a glass in a dark manner; but then face to face. Now I know in part; but then I shall know even as I am known” (1 Cor 13:12). Sanctissima Facies Iesu, sub sacramento abscondita, respice in nos et miserere nostri.

The Priest of the Holy Face of Jesus

Gaetano Catanoso was born on 14 February 1879 in Chorio di San Lorenzo, Reggio Calabria, Italy. His parents, wealthy landowners, were exemplary Christians. Gaetano was ordained a priest in 1902, and from 1904 to 1921 he served in the rural parish of Pentidattilo.

The Holy Face of Jesus illumined Father Catanoso's life. He venerated the Holy Face as depicted in the image of Veronica's Veil diffused by the Carmel of Tours in France. He began "The Holy Face" Bulletin and established a local chapter of the "Archconfraternity of the Holy Face" in 1920. "The Holy Face," he wrote, "is my life." Saint Gaetano directed anyone seeking the Face of Christ to the Most Holy Eucharist, saying, "If we wish to adore the real Face of Jesus, we can find it in the divine Eucharist where, with the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, the Face of our Lord is hidden under the white veil of the Host."

A Parish Priest

On 2 February 1921, Father Catanoso was transferred to the large parish of Santa Maria de la Candelaria. He served there until 1940. The daily celebration of Holy Mass and Eucharistic adoration were the soul of his priesthood and the sustenance of his apostolate.

The liturgical memorial of Saint Gaetano Catanoso occurs on September 20th. Pope Benedict XVI canonized him on October 23, 2005. In the homily of the Mass of Canonization, the Holy Father said:

Saint Gaetano Catanoso was a lover and apostle of the Holy Face of Jesus. "The Holy Face", he affirmed, "is my life. He is my strength". With joyful intuition he joined this devotion to Eucharistic piety.

Daily Mass and frequent adoration of the Sacrament of the Altar were the soul of his priesthood: with ardent and untiring pastoral charity he dedicated himself to preaching, catechesis, the ministry of confession, and to the poor, the sick and the care of priestly vocations. To the Congregation of the Daughters of St Veronica, Missionaries of the Holy Face, which he founded, he transmitted the spirit of charity, humility and sacrifice which enlivened his entire life.

Everything was taken from the Common of One Martyr apart from the Collect and the General Intercessions. We commemorated the Blessed Virgin Mary of La Salette in the General Intercessions.

COLLECT

O God,
by whose gift we venerate the memory
of your martyr, Saint Januarius,
grant that, in his company,
we may rejoice to partake of eternal blessedness.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God, forever and ever.

There is something of a personal connection to San Gennaro. He was bishop of Benevento in Campania during Diocletian's persecutions in the year 305. One of my maternal great–grandfathers, Giuseppe Martino came to the United States from Gioia–Sanitica in the Province of Benevento; his wife, my great–grandmother Rosina Biondi was from Faicchio in the same province.

Giuseppe and Rosina Martino raised their family — my grandmother Adelina was the eldest — in a little white house on Daisy Street in the Highwood section of Hamden. They made their own wine, their own pasta, and their own sausage. They grew their own vegetables. To me, the cellar of that house was a magical place fragrant with dried basilico and other herbs. The wine was kept there too.

The roots of our family's Italian Catholic heritage are soaked in the blood of the martyrs. It grieves me that some of the descendents of Giuseppe and Rosina have forsaken the faith of generations. The joyful transmission of the faith is a sacred responsibility.

My wonderful friend Terry N. over at Abbey-Roads did an excellent post on San Gennaro. Here, a little late in the day, is my homily on every Neapolitan's favourite saint, and on Our Lady of La Salette as well. One of Barbara Pym's characters often exclaims, "Too much richness!" I love the richness of the Martyrology and of the Church's calendar.

TUESDAY OF THE TWENTY-FOURTH WEEK OF THE YEAR II
September 19
Saint Januarius, Bishop and Martyr

1 Corinthians 12:12-14, 17-31a
Psalm 99:1-2, 3, 4, 5 (R. 3c)
Luke 7:11-17

This very morning in the cathedral of Naples in Italy, Crescenzio Cardinal Sepe lifted up the reliquary containing the blood of Saint Januarius and, as it was presented to the faithful, the dried blood of the bishop of Benevento, martyred under Diocletian in 305, liquefied and bubbled up. Once again the faithful had their miracle, breathed a sigh of relief, and expressed their joy as only Neapolitans can.

Saint Januarius, better know as San Gennaro, was very dear to the thousands of immigrants from Naples and the province of Benevento who poured into New Haven, Connecticut at the beginning of the last century. Today their descendents live not only in New Haven, but also in East Haven, Branford, Hamden, and Woodbridge. How many of them remember San Gennaro? San Gennaro was one of many heavenly friends who accompanied those emigrating from Southern Italy into a strange land far from their families. The emigration was not nearly so painful if one could take along one’s beloved saints and be assured of their protection.

Monday of the Twenty–Fourth Week of the Year II

1 Corinthians 11:17–26, 33
Psalm 39:6–7a, 7b–8, 9, 16 (R. 1 Cor 11:26b)
Luke 7:10

All four pieces of today’s Liturgy of the Word — First Reading, Responsorial Psalm, Alleluia Verse, and Gospel — converge in the mystery of the Most Holy Eucharist.

Saint Paul admonishes the Corinthians for their disorderly way of celebrating the Lord’s Supper. Their common meal had given rise to abuses. He recalls them to what is essential, to the sacred tradition of the Eucharist. Already, Saint Paul speaks of the Eucharist as something “handed on” and “received.” The two essential components of the living tradition are reception and transmission. “I received from the Lord what I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus, on the night when He was betrayed took bread, and when He had given thanks, He broke it, and said, ‘This is my body which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ In the same way also the cup, after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.’ For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until He comes’” (1 Cor 11:23–26).

I am grateful to my friends over at The Rosary Workshop for this wonderful photo illustrating today's Entrance Antiphon, Da pacem, Domine.

GR
Give peace. O Lord, to them that patiently wait for you, that your prophets may be found faithful. Hear the prayers of your servant, and of your people Israel (Sir 36:18).
V. I rejoiced when it was said unto me, “Let us go to the house of the Lord” (Ps 121:1).

Never underestimate the effect of an image on the memory and imagination of a child. The image of the stigmata of Saint Francis of Assisi profoundly marked my childhood. Shining with jewel–like colors, a window depicting Saint Francis receiving the stigmata illuminated the south transept of my parish church. Later on, in my missal, I discovered the Collect for the Commemoration of the Holy Stigmata (formerly celebrated on September 17th). It remains, to this day, a prayer that speaks to my heart. My long association with the Poor Clares of Bethlehem Monastery in Barhamsville, Virginia, inspired me to share it with you:

Lord Jesus Christ,
who didst reproduce,
in the flesh of the most blessed Francis,
the sacred marks of thy own sufferings,
so that in a world grown cold
our hearts might be filled with burning love of thee,
graciously enable us by his merits and prayers
to bear the cross without faltering
and to bring forth worthy fruits of penitence:
Thou who art God,
living and reigning with God the Father,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
for ever and ever.

Twenty–Fourth Sunday of the Year B

Isaiah 50:5-9a,
Psalm 115:1-2, 3-4, 5-6, 8-9
James 2:14-18
Mark 8:27-35

By a happy coincidence, the Word of God today echoes Thursday’s solemn festival of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross and carries us more deeply into its mystery. We listened, in the First Reading, to Isaiah’s mysterious prophecy of the Passion of Christ. Like a photograph developed in a darkroom, an image emerged from the sacred page: the portrait of One who goes forward into suffering, fully conscious of what awaits Him, totally abandoned to God who alone can save Him. “I gave my back to the smiters, and my cheeks to those who pulled out the beard; I hid not my face from shame and spitting” (Is 50:6). The adorable Face of the suffering Christ came into focus, the Holy Face that, from the earliest preaching of the Gospel, captivated believers, drawing them irresistibly into the mystery of the Cross.

In the apse of ancient Christian basilicas, it was not uncommon to see an immense cross, worked in shimmering mosaic. The body of Christ was not depicted on the cross; instead, at the center of the cross, in a shining circle at the juncture of the vertical and horizontal beams, was an image of the Holy Face of Christ. The arms of the Cross converged in the Face of Christ, His most distinctive characteristic.

Today's Mass echoes that of September 14th when we celebrated the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. The prophet Isaiah calls us to contemplate the adorable Face of the suffering Christ. The Gospel invites every disciple of Christ to participation the mystery of His Cross; the Communion Antiphon echoes the invitation of the Gospel.

ENTRANCE ANTIPHON

GR
Give peace. O Lord, to them that patiently wait for you, that your prophets may be found faithful. Hear the prayers of your servant, and of your people Israel (Sir 36:18).
V. I rejoiced when it was said unto me, “Let us go to the house of the Lord” (Ps 121:1).

Twenty–Third Saturday of the Year II
Memorial of Saints Cornelius, Pope, and Cyprian, Bishop, Martyrs

1 Corinthians 10:14–22
Psalm 115:12–13, 17–18 (r. 17a)
Luke 6:43–49

The Cup of the Lord

“You cannot partake of the cup of the Lord and the cup of demons. You cannot partake of the table of the Lord and the table of demons. Shall we provoke the Lord to jealousy? (1 Cor 10:21–22). It was not uncommon in Corinth for food and drink offered to idols in pagan rituals to be consumed in the banquet that followed. Saint Paul makes it clear that idols, in themselves, are nothing; he also makes it clear that demons stand behind them. “What pagans sacrifice they offer to demons and not to God. I do not want you to become partners with demons” (1 Cor 10:20). One who partakes of food and drink offered to idols becomes an accessory to the sin of idolatry and opens oneself to the powers of darkness that lurk behind the idols fashioned by men.

Let us remember each other with one heart and mind. Let us pray for each other always and lighten our burdens and anxieties by our mutual love.
(Letter of Saint Cyprian to Pope Saint Cornelius)

ENTRANCE ANTIPHON

MR
In heaven do rejoice the souls of the Saints
who have followed the steps of Christ;
and because they shed their blood for the love of Christ,
therefore shall they be made glad forever with Christ.

Celebrating today's feast of Our Lady of Sorrows, the Addolorata, brought me back to the church of my Italian great–grandmother, Donna Emma Onoratelli, in Sepicciano (Campania). I have had the privilege of celebrating Holy Mass there on numerous occasions. My dear cousins Carlo de Lellis, his wife Nora, and their children Ettore and Sissi now live in the palazzo Onoratelli just a few steps from the church. Whenever I visit them, they insist that I consider it my home too.

The church was built in 1742 as a private family chapel by my forbear the Marchese Don Clemente Onoratelli in fulfillment of a vow made to Saint Michael the Archangel. It contains an extraordinarily expressive statue of the Sorrowful Mother commissioned by the family. The ladies of the family considered it an honour to provide the Madonna with an exquisite black dress, mourning veil, and jewelry. In her hand she holds a delicate white handkerchief edged in lace. Unfortunately, I do not have a photograph of the statue. There are still many like it throughout the former Kingdom of Naples, in spite of the fact that unscrupulous antique dealers prize them as collection pieces!

From my father's side of the family, the Gilbrides from County Leitrim, I inherited a splendid little Irish prayerbook printed in Middle Abbey Street, Dublin, in 1860. It contains A Devout Exercise in Honour of the Sorrowful Heart of Mary in the form of short meditations on the Seven Sorrows, a Prayer to the Blessed Virgin in her Desolation, and A Short Method of saying the Rosary of the Dolours of the B.V.M.

There is evidence of a tradition of devotion to the Mother of Sorrows on both sides of the family tree. I pray that it may continue from generation to generation. "Sow for yourselves righteousness, reap the fruit of steadfast love; break up your fallow ground, for it is time to seek the Lord, that he may come and rain salvation upon you" (Hos 10:12).

September 15

Pastoral Note: Whatever you do, don't omit the sequence from today's Mass! You can find it in the Lectionary. The Stabat Mater is universally recognized as one of the most tender and vivid pieces of poetry in the Roman Rite. The translation given in Maurice Zundel's book, The Splendour of the Liturgy, is exquisite.

ENTRANCE ANTIPHON

GR
Standing beside the Cross of Jesus were his mother,
and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas,
and Mary Magdalene (Jn 19:25, 26).
V. Woman, behold thy son, said Jesus:
then to the disciple, Behold thy mother.

There is a certain comfort in praying on beads that are beautiful and sturdy, beads that somehow feel like they were destined to be held, caressed, and cherished. The beads are, after all, a visible, tangible sign of the prayer by which we place our hand in the hand of Mary, and bind our heart to hers.

Sacramentals should be things of beauty. The soul thrives in an environment of chaste loveliness, harmony, and order. Finely crafted beads invite to prayer. There is no shame in going to God by means of the senses He has given us. The Word became flesh so that we, in our flesh and not in spite of it, might be able to go to God.

My own Seven Dolours Beads were made by the wonderful ladies at the Rosary Workshop. Look them up at: http://www.RosaryWorkshop.com/RDSP-2520-7sorrows.html

The Rosary of the Seven Dolours of the Blessed Virgin Mary is a way of rememorating certain events in the Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ and the Compassion of His Virgin Mother. The fruits of this particular prayer are compunction of heart, detachment from the occasions of sin, chastity, humility, reparation, compassion, intimacy with the Sorrowful and Immaculate Heart of Mary, and desire to contemplate the Face of Christ.

The power of this prayer — something that many have experienced — comes from allowing one's own heart to be irrigated and purified by the tears of the Mother of God. The tears of the Sorrowful Mother bring purity and healing wherever they fall.

It is significant, I think, that the first three of Our Lady’s Sorrows were shared with Saint Joseph and the last four with Saint John, the Beloved Disciple of Jesus. Saint Joseph and Saint John, the two men chosen by God to live in the intimacy of the Virgin Mother, were also chosen by God to enter into the mystery of her sorrows.

Here is one method of saying the Rosary of the Seven Dolours:

September 14
The Exaltation of the Glorious Cross

Numbers 21:4b-9
Psalm 77:1-2, 34-35, 36-37, 38
Philippians 2:6-11
John 3:13-17

Glory in the Cross

“It is for us to glory in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ in whom is our health, life and Resurrection: through whom we have been saved and set free” (Introit). Celebrating today the mystery of the Cross, we fix our gaze not upon an instrument of torture and of shame but, rather, upon the Tree of Life whose leaves are for the healing of the nations (Rev 22:2). We lift our eyes to the royal throne of the King of glory, the sign of the Son of Man that will appear in the heavens at the end of the age (Mt 24:30). To the eyes of faith, the Cross shines like the sun over the eastern horizon.

The aromatic herb, basil (Ocimum basilicum) has long been associated with the Holy Cross. Etymologically, it is related to basileios, the Greek word for king. According to a pious legend, the Empress Saint Helena found the location of the True Cross by digging for it under a colony of basil. Basil plants were reputed to have sprung up at the foot of the Cross where fell the Precious Blood of Christ and the tears of the Mother of Sorrows. A sprig of basil was said to have been found growing from the wood of the True Cross. Also, from the practice in some areas of strewing branches of basil before church communion rails, it came to be known as Holy Communion Plant.

V. Our help is in the name of the Lord.
R. Who made heaven and earth.

The bouquets of basil leaf are sprinkled with Holy Water.

Today is the patronal festival of the Basilica of Santa Croce in Gerusalemme, the abbatial church of my own Cistercian community. Santa Croce is one of the seven principal basilicas of the Eternal City. Pilgrims from the world over make their way to Santa Croce to venerate the precious relics of the Passion of the Lord: the wood of the Cross, two thorns of the Crown, one Nail, and the Titulus Crucis, the sign that was suspended over the Crucified.
Today is also the patronal festival of the Cistercian Monastery of Santa Cruz in Guadalajara, Mexico, a recent foundation of Santa Croce in Gerusalemme,
and of the Monastery of the Glorious Cross in Branford, Connecticut, where I serve as chaplain to the Benedictines of Jesus Crucified.

ENTRANCE ANTIPHON

GR
It is for us to glory
in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ
in whom is our health, life, and resurrection:
through whom we have been saved
and set free (cf. Gal 6:14).
V. May God be merciful to us and bless us;
may his face shine its light upon us,
and may he show us mercy (Ps 66:1).

Saint John Chrysostom prepares us for the Solemnity of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. Today's Communion Antiphon is a text of the Apostle Paul placed in the golden mouth of the glorious Archbishop of Constantinople: "We preach Christ crucified, the power of God and the wisdom of God" (1 Cor 1:23–224). Tomorrow the power and wisdom of God will radiate from the glorious Cross into the whole universe.

Thanks to the Cross we are no longer in a state of widowhood,
for we are reunited to the Bridegroom;
we are not afraid of the wolf,
because we have the Good Shepherd. . . .
Thanks to the Cross we dread no usurper,
since we are sitting beside the King.
(Saint John Chrysostom, Homily I on the Cross and the Thief)

SEPTEMBER 13
SAINT JOHN CHRYSOSTOM, BISHOP AND DOCTOR OF THE CHURCH

1 Corinthians 7:35–31
Psalm 44:10–11, 13b–14, 15–16 (r. 10a)
Luke 6:20–26

A Preacher Unlike Any Other

Would that Saint John Chrysostom could stand here in my place today and preach with that golden–mouthed eloquence given him by the Holy Spirit! How would we respond to his preaching? Saint Chrysostom’s preaching disturbed the placid, inflamed the tepid, woke up the drowsy, exposed corruption, frightened the indifferent, unsettled the comfortable, and caused the pious to squirm. His preaching also inspired confidence in the Blood of Christ, gave hope to the hopeless, caused sinners to weep with sorrow for their faults, inspired the rich to give abundantly of their wealth, moved people to detachment from earthly goods, humbled the haughty, brought fornicators to chastity, converted swindlers to justice, and endowed the ignorant with the science of Jesus Christ.

Call me a foolish old uncle, but I just can't help it! This is our little Mary. Before Mary's birth on March 17, 2005, my brother Terence prayed "Hail Mary" after "Hail Mary." (And Terence is not the poster boy for piety!) It was then that Terence and Sandy decided to name their little girl Mary. When Terence was a little baby, I — being not only his older brother but his godfather as well — took him to church one day and placed him on the altar of the Blessed Mother, consecrating him to her. Our Lady has looked after Terence! Little Mary too was entrusted to the Holy Mother of God on the day of her baptism in Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal Church in Hampton, New Hampshire.

ENTRANCE ANTIPHON

MR
Blessed are you, O Virgin Mary
by the Lord, the Most High God,
above all other women on earth;
for God has so magnified your name,
that your praise shall never depart
from the mouth of men (Jud 13:18, 20).

COLLECT

Grant, we beseech you, almighty God,
that to all who are celebrating her glorious name,
the Blessed Virgin Mary herself
may dispense the benefits of your mercy.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God, forever and ever.

THE MOST HOLY NAME OF MARY
Sirach 24:17–21
Luke 1:46–48, 49–50, 53–54
Luke1:26–38

September 12, 2006
Monastery of the Glorious Cross, O.S.B.
Branford, Connecticut

In 1683 Pope Innocent XI extended the existing Feast of the Most Holy Name of Mary to the universal Church to thank Our Lady for the victory of John Sobieski, king of Poland, over the forces of militant Islam. On September 11th, 1683, Muslim Turks attacked Vienna, threatening the Christian West. The next day, Sobieski, invoking the Blessed Virgin Mary and placing his forces under her protection, emerged victorious.

In the culture of the Middle East one thinks more readily in terms of centuries than in terms of years. It would seem that Osama Bin Ladin chose September 11th for the attack on the United States in memory of that attack on the West on September 11th, 1683. Symbolic dates are important. Pope John Paul II restored the feast of the Holy Name of Mary with the publication of the Third Typical Edition of the Roman Missal in 2002, one year after the attacks of September 11th, 2001.

It is significant also that the ceasefire in Lebanon was granted on August 15th, the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and that the Israeli air and sea blockade of Lebanon ended on September 8th, the feast of her Nativity. The Holy Mother of God is no stranger to the struggles of her children in this valley of tears. She is attentive to every situation that threatens this world of ours, to every assault against the Church and, when we invoke her holy name, she is quick to intervene.

1 John 3:1–2
Psalm 22
Matthew 11:25–30

A number of things coincide today to stir up our prayer and to make it more fervent, more confident, more pressing. First, we are praying for the happy repose of the soul of Sister Mary Xavier’s sister, Ellen Marie Norton. A wise old Father once said to me that when a monk is sick, he should be cared for in his own monastery with the same tenderness that his own mother would have for him, were she at his side. When the death of a loved one arrives for a Sister, the same thing is true: she should be surrounded with the same attention and affection that her family would have for her, were she at home among them.

Every time Our Lord calls one of our family to Himself, it is as if another one of the veils separating us from our own death is lifted. Our own mortality becomes more real. As we grow old, we begin to notice that fewer and fewer of our loved ones remain with us here below in this valley of tears. One by one, the persons whom we cherish the most — grandparents, mother, father, spouse, brothers, and sisters — pass from his life. With each death, our own hearts become more focused “on the things that are above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God” (Col 3:1).

Ellen M. Donovan, the sister of Sister Mary Xavier of the Monastery of the Glorious Cross, died on September 7th. Today I offered Holy Mass for the repose of her soul. Every time I sing the sublime First Preface of the Dead, I thrill to the words: Tuis enim fidelibus, Domine, vita mutatur, non tollitur. There is in the Church's Requiem Mass a gentle realism in the face of death and a consolation found nowhere else.

The life of those who are faithful to you, Lord,
is but changed, not ended;
and when their earthly dwelling-place decays,
an eternal home is made ready in heaven.

ENTRANCE ANTIPHON

GR and GS
Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord,
and let the radiance of your light shine forever upon them (cf. 2 Es 2:35).
V. To you our praise is due in Zion, O God.
To you we pay our vows, you who hear our prayer;
to you all flesh will come (Ps 64:2-3).

Twenty–Third Sunday of the Year B

Isaiah 35:4-7a
Psalm 145:6c-7, 8-9a, 9bc-10
James 2:1-5
Mark 7:31-37

This morning a single phrase from the Epistle of Saint James dazzles me with its brightness. This is the phrase: “You hold the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of Glory” (Jas 2:1). The Lord of Glory! These words illuminate everything else for us. This is the shining faith of Saint Peter on the morning of Pentecost: “Let all the house of Israel therefore know assuredly that God has made Him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified” (Ac 2:36). This is the jubilant faith of Saint Paul: “God has highly exalted Him and bestowed on Him the name which is above every name that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow in heaven, on earth, and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father” (Ph 2:9-11). In another place, Saint Paul adds: “None of the rulers of this age understood this; for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory” (1 Cor 2:8). This is the faith of the Church confessing the sovereign lordship of Christ in the Te Deum at every solemn vigil: Tu rex gloriae, Christe!

Illumina faciem tuam super sanctuarium tuum:
et propitius intende populum istum,
super quem invocatum est nomen tuum, Deus.

Let your Face shine upon your sanctuary,
and graciously look down upon this people
over whom your name is invoked, O God.
(Dan 9:4, 17–19, Today's Offertory Antiphon)

The Fourth Mode melody that clothes the prophet Daniel's prayer in today's Offertory Antiphon reaches its musical and theological summit over the words, Illumina faciem tuam super sanctuarium tuum, "Let your Face shine upon your sanctuary" (Dan 9:17). The light of the Eucharistic Face of Christ, the "Lord of Glory" (Jas 2:1) illumines the sanctuary during the Holy Mysteries. "And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being changed into his likeness from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit" (2 Cor 3:18).

Twenty Second Saturday of the Year II
Memorial of Saint Peter Claver

1 Corinthians 4:6b-15
Psalm 144:17-18, 19-20, 21 (R. 18a)
Luke 6:1-5

Your Father in Christ Jesus

“I do not write this to make you ashamed, but to admonish you as my beloved children. For though you have countless guides in Christ, you do not have many fathers. For I became your father in Christ Jesus through the gospel. I urge you, then, be imitators of me” (1 Cor 4:14-15). Saint Paul speaks clearly of the grace of spiritual fatherhood. He recognizes that he has become the father in Christ of the members of the Church at Corinth, his beloved children. Spiritual fatherhood is realized through the Gospel, that is, through the “word of the Cross” (1 Cor 1:18). By planting the word of the Cross in souls, the priest becomes more than a “guide in Christ” (1 Cor 4:15); he becomes a father.

COLLECT

O God, who made blessed Peter the slave of slaves,
strengthening him with marvelous charity and patience,
at his intercession, grant that all of us,
in seeking those things that belong to Jesus Christ,
may love our neighbour truly and in deed.
Through the same our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God, forever and ever.

This is my very own Maria Bambina, my one–year old niece Mary Elizabeth Kirby. Little Mary is climbing into the bird seed barrel while her brother, three–year old Michael Colin Kirby is busy replenishing the bird feeder. Beautiful children!

COLLECT

Bestow upon your servants,
we beseech you, O Lord,
the gift of your heavenly grace:
so that we for whom the beginning of salvation dawned
with the childbearing of the Blessed Virgin,
may receive an increase of peace
on this festival of her Nativity.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God, forever and ever.

Romans 8:28–30
Psalm 12:5, 6 (R. Is 61:10a)
Matthew 1:1–16, 18–23

Unto us a little girl is born; unto us a daughter is given. “The Holy Spirit will come upon her, and the power of the Most High will overshadow her” (Cf. Lk 1:35). The Word will take flesh in her virginal womb and suckle at her breast. And her name shall be called Full of Grace, Glory of Jerusalem, Joy of Israel, and Mother of God. In Italy she has another name, one that the people love to give her; she is their Maria Bambina, the little Infant Mary.

It was in Rome, many years ago, that I encountered the image of Maria Bambina, for the first time. I didn’t know quite what to make of it. She looked rather like a doll, all dressed up in lace and satin, resting on her pillow. I knew only that old people and children came to pray before her, that Maria Bambina had stolen their hearts. She attracted the most extraordinary outpouring of tender devotion, and does to this day.

For some years now, especially around the Marian feasts of September 8th, November 21st, and December 8th, I have prayed my rosary while dwelling on five mysteries of the first part of Our Lady's life. These five mysteries of the Blessed Virgin are:

— the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary in the womb of her mother, Saint Anne;
— the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary;
— the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary in the Temple;
— the Betrothal of the Blessed Virgin Mary to Saint Joseph;
— the Annunciation of the Lord to the Blessed Virgin Mary.

There is a particular sweetness in dwelling on these mysteries of Maria Bambina, the Infant Mary, the Child Mary. They distill graces of purity, of childlike simplicity, and of littleness.
All five mysteries are commemorated in the Sacred Liturgy. The liturgical books are rich in texts to nourish the meditation of each one. It is enough to take an antiphon, a verse, a single phrase, and to hold it in the heart while telling one's beads.
The Rosary corresponds to the meditatio and the oratio of monastic prayer; it begins necessarily in lectio divina, the hearing of the Word and then, gently, almost imperceptibly, draws the soul into contemplatio.
The Rosary is, I am convinced, the surest and easiest school of contemplative prayer. The Rosary decapitates pride, the single greatest obstacle to union with God. The repetition of the Aves, like a stream of pure water, cleanses the heart.

1 Corinthians 3:18–23
Psalm 23:1–2, 3–4ab, 5–6 (R. 1ab)
Luke 5:1–11

Today’s Gospel opens with the people pressing upon Jesus to hear the Word of God. Eagerness to hear the Word is a sign of spiritual vitality. So too is the desire to be close to Jesus. But already Our Lord is intimating that His Word and His presence will be mediated through His Church. “Getting into one of the boats, which was Simon’s, he asked him to put out a little from the land. And He sat down and taught the people from the boat” (Lk 5:3). The fisherman’s boat becomes the pulpit of the Word; even more, it becomes an image of the Church called to bear the Word across the waves of history.
After preaching to the people, Our Lord addresses a personal word to Simon: “Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch” (Lk 5:4). Duc in altum! Put out into the deep! Simon answers the Master honestly, “Master, we toiled all night and took nothing!” — and then he obeys — “But at your word I will let down the nets” (Lk 5:5).

Already in the mystical invasion of 17th century France, Catherine de Bar (Mère Mechthilde du Saint–Sacrement, 1614–1698), foundress of the Benedictines of the Most Holy Sacrament, initiated a weekly rememoration of both Maundy Thursday and the festival of Corpus Christi. Whenever the rubrics allowed, Thursdays were marked by a Votive Mass and Office of the Most Holy Eucharist and by adoration of the Blessed Sacrament exposed in the monstrance, a rare privilege at the time. The Cistercians too marked Thursdays in the same way; Cistercian liturgical books contain a Votive Office of the Blessed Sacrament.
During the Year of the Eucharist, I proposed a weekly Votive Mass of the Most Holy Eucharist whenever a free Thursday occurred in the calendar. It is a practice that I am continuing now that the Year of the Eucharist has come and gone, a way of recalling the Gift and Mystery of the Cenacle, and of stirring up that eucharistic amazement that Pope John Paul II so desired to revive in the Church.

1 Corinthians 3:1–9
Psalm 32:12–13, 14–15, 20–21 (R. 12b)
Luke 4:38–44

Jesus has just left the synagogue of Capernaum. He was teaching the people on the Sabbath; the word of His mouth struck the ears of all by its indescribable authority. Joining to His word a wonderful action, He delivered a man from the unclean spirit who oppressed him. Today’s Gospel begins with Jesus leaving the synagogue and entering the house of Simon.
It would have been normal, at this point, for Our Lord to want to take some refreshment and there, away from the crowd, to enjoy a moment of respite after the exertions of His ministry. But upon entering Simon’s house what does He find? Simon’s mother–in–law is ill with a high fever. Those in the house — Simon’s wife and Simon himself, no doubt — “besought Him for her” (Lk 4:38).

Wednesday of the Twenty–Second Week of the Year II

ENTRANCE ANTIPHON

MR
Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I have called out to you all the day, for you, O Lord, are sweet and gentle, and plenteous in mercy to all who call upon you (Ps 85:3-4).

Pope Benedict XVI invites priests to contemplate the glorious wounds of Christ: We ourselves, the priests, whether young or mature, must learn the necessity of suffering, of crisis. We must endure and transcend this suffering. Only in this way does life become rich. For me, the fact that the Lord bears his stigmata for all eternity has a symbolic value. An expression of the atrocity of suffering and death, they are now the seals of Christ’s victory, of the full beauty of his victory and of his love for us. (31 August 2006)

1 Corinthians 2:10b–16
Psalm 144:8–9, 10–11, 12–13ab, 13cd–14 (r. 17a)
Luke 4:31–37

Today’s reading from First Corinthians dovetails beautifully with our monthly Votive Mass of the Holy Spirit. “The Spirit,” says Saint Paul, “searches everything, even the depths of God” (1 Cor 2:10). What are these depths of God? The Apostle says, “What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived, what God has prepared for those who love Him, God has revealed to us through the Spirit” (1 Cor 2:9–10). The deep things of God are the mysteries of the Kingdom concerning which Jesus said, “I thank thee, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that thou hast hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to babes; yea, Father, for such was thy gracious will” (Lk 10:21).

On May 18, 1874, the Carmelite Blessed Mary of Jesus Crucified (1846–1878) beheld a chalice streaming with light and a dove. From the light she heard a voice saying, I ardently desire that priests say a Mass each month in honour of the Holy Spirit. Whoever will say it or hear it will be honoured by the Holy Spirit Himself. He will have light, he will have peace. He will cure the sick. He will awaken those who are asleep.
In June 1877, through the intermediary of the Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, she sent a message to Blessed Pope Pius IX, saying: The world and religious communities are seeking novelties in devotions, and they are neglecting true devotion to the Paraclete. That is why there is error and disunion, and why there is no peace or light. They do not invoke the light as it should be invoked, and it is this light that gives knowledge of truth. It is neglected even in seminaries. . . .
Every person in the world that will invoke the Holy Spirit and have devotion to Him will not die in error. Every priest that preaches this devotion will receive light while he is speaking of it to others.
I was told that each priest in the whole world should be required to say one Mass of the Holy Spirit each month, and all those who assist at it will receive very special grace and light.
I have tried, since my own ordination, to celebrate a Votive Mass of the Holy Spirit on the first available ferial day of each month. The Roman Missal contains a wealth of texts for the Mass of the Holy Spirit.

1 Corinthians 2:1–5
Psalm 118:97, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102 (R. 97a)
Luke 4:16–30

In the Power of the Spirit

“And Jesus returned in the power of the Spirit into Galilee” (Lk 4:14). Jesus, “full of the Holy Spirit” (Lk 4:1) after His baptism and fast of forty days, comes home to Nazareth. On the Sabbath day he returns to the synagogue of his childhood: a holy place, a place rich in memories of the man who raised him, the just man who taught him the psalms, the blessings, and His other prayers, Saint Joseph. He takes His place at the ambo: the Word is about to proclaim the word.
Jesus receives the book from the attendant, and opening the book to the prophet Isaiah, he begins to read “the things concerning Himself” (Lk 24:27). “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor” (Lk 4:18). This is, you will have noticed, the third time that Saint Luke names the Holy Spirit in this fourth chapter of his gospel. In verse 1, he presents Jesus as “full of the Holy Spirit.” In verse 14, he shows him returning “in the power of the Spirit into Galilee” (Lk 4:14). And finally, in verse eighteen, Saint Luke wants us to hear Jesus Himself saying, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me” (Lk 4:16).

The Catholic version of Labor Day is the feast of Saint Joseph the Worker instituted by Pope Pius XII in 1956 and celebrated on May 1st. For Monday, September 4th, I chose the texts provided in the Roman Missal for times of war or insurrection. The readings will be those of the feria. Violet vestments are suitable: a sign of penitence in the face of violence.

Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23
James 1:17-18, 21-22, 27
Psalm 14:2-3, 3-4, 4-5
Deuteronomy 4:1-2, 6-8

Receive Humbly the Implanted Word

Today Saint James calls our attention to two attitudes of the heart fundamental to the Christian life: humility and poverty of spirit. “Receive humbly," he says, "the implanted word, which is able to save your souls” (Jas 1:21). The Word of God comes to us with power in every celebration of the Sacred Liturgy. Whenever the Word of God is proclaimed — in the psalmody and readings of the Divine Office, in the readings and proper chants of the Mass, in the homily — it is implanted within us. “He who sows the good seed,” says Jesus, “is the Son of Man” (Mt 13:37). Only the humble soul is able to receive the Word of God because the humble soul is capacious and spacious. The humble soul is uncluttered with the elaborate furnishings of self-love and the accumulated debris of sin.

ENTRANCE ANTIPHON

MR
Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I have called out to you all the day,
for you, O Lord, are sweet and gentle,
and plenteous in mercy to all who call upon you (Ps 85:3-4).

TWENTY-FIRST SATURDAY OF THE YEAR II
MASS OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY,
MOTHER AND MEDIATRIX OF GRACE

Today's Mass, honouring the Blessed Virgin Mary as the Mediatrix of all graces, was originally granted by Pope Benedict XV in 1921 in response to a request from Cardinal Mercier of Belgium. Cardinal Mercier was a close friend of Blessed Abbot Marmion. These two Masters of the spiritual life were of one mind and heart in recognizing and in celebrating the mission of the Blessed Virgin Mary to administer the graces won for us by the passion and death of her Son. The Office and Mass of Mary Mediatrix were extended by the Holy See to dioceses and communities the world over, making the feast practically universal.

The feast was originally celebrated on May 31st. In 1956, when Pope Pius XII instituted the feast of the Queenship of Mary on that same day, the feast of Mary Mediatrix was moved to May 8th in some places and to August 31st in others. In 1986 a complete Mass formulary, graced with a remarkable Preface, was prepared for the collection of Forty-Six Masses in honour of the Blessed Virgin.

Mary is the new Eve, the Mother of all the living. Standing at the foot of the Cross and filled in that hour with the Spirit of her Son, she said “Yes” to the unique participation in the work of redemption that, from the beginning, the Father had reserved for her. She continues to participate in that work by dispensing “the unsearchable riches of Christ” (Eph 3:8) to all of us, the old Eve's poor children exiled in this valley of tears.

The Mother of God herself offers us a commentary on today's First Reading.

TWENTY-FIRST FRIDAY OF THE YEAR II
Votive Mass of the Holy Face of Jesus

1 Corinthians 1:17-25
Psalm 32:1-2, 4-5, 10-11 (R. 5b)
Matthew 25:1-13
September 1, 2006

Hearts in Pilgrimage

Today our hearts are in spiritual pilgrimage as we follow Pope Benedict XVI to the shrine of the Holy Face of Manoppello in the Abruzzo region of Italy. I got up at 3:30 a.m. to witness the event transmitted live via internet from Manoppello. Upon arrival the Holy Father knelt in adoration of the Blessed Sacrament and then made his way behind the altar and up the steps leading to the back of the reliquary. A Capuchin Father opened the glass door for him and, in that moment, I saw Peter face-to-face with the precious image of his Master crucified and risen. The Holy Father looked intently at the Face of the Lord. The Pope's gaze was one of childlike wonder.