Saints and Angels: April 2009 Archives

Saint Pius V, Pope
Blessed Marie de l'Incarnation, Ursuline

O God, who raised up Pope Saint Pius V within your Church
to uphold the faith
and to provide for a liturgy more worthy of you,
grant that, through his intercession,
we may participate in your mysteries
with a lively faith and a fruitful charity.
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 Teresa of the New World

There are two saints on today's calendar who can help us better understand what it means to be Catholic. Blessed Marie de l'Incarnation (1599-1672), the widow of Claude Martin and mother of an illustrious Benedictine of the same name, founded the Ursuline Monastery of Québec in 1639. She is counted among the great spiritual mothers of the Church in North America. Bossuet called her "the Teresa of the New World." There was nothing narrow about Marie de l'Incarnation; hers was a heart dilated by the Holy Spirit to the dimensions of the Heart of Christ.

My Spirit Did Not Cease Its Travels

What the cloistered Ursuline wrote in 1654 is extraordinarily relevant today:

In spirit I roamed through the vast stretches of the Indies, of Japan and China, and kept company with those laboring to spread the Gospel there. I felt closely united to these workers because I felt that I was one with them in spirit. While it is true that in body I was bound by my rule of enclosure, nevertheless my spirit did not cease its travels, nor did my heart cease its loving solicitations to the Eternal Father for the salvation of the many millions of souls whom I constantly offered him. (The Relation of 1654)

A Fruitful Pontificate

Better known is the Dominican Pope Saint Pius V (1504-1572). His was a wonderfully fruitful pontificate of only six years, from 1566 to 1572. In 1566, implementing the orientations of the Council of Trent, he promulgated the Roman Catechism; in 1568 he reformed the Divine Office; and in 1570 he gave the Church the Roman Missal that came to bear his name.

A Pope of the Rosary

Saint Pius V established the feast of Our Lady of Victory, later called Our Lady of the Rosary, on October 7th in thanksgiving for the victory of the Christian navy over the invading Turks. He attributed that victory to the Blessed Virgin and to the prayer of the Rosary. In 1588 the body of Saint Pius V was transferred to the Basilica of Saint Mary Major, a fitting testimony to his devotion to the Mother of God.

The Sacred Liturgy

The Collect for the feast of Saint Pius V recalls, in particular, his promotion of the sacred liturgy. The liturgy of the Church is what saves us again and again from narrowness, from the limitations of our subjective impressions, and from spiritual fossilization. The liturgy is what opens us day after day to vast horizons, connecting us vitally to every cell of the Mystical Body vivified by the Precious Blood.

In the following passage from The Dialogue of Saint Catherine of Siena with the Eternal Father, God the Father addresses the clergy wallowing in sin. He contrasts the body of the priest with the Body of Christ. Notice how the text echoes the Reproaches (Improperia) of the Good Friday liturgy. "I did this for you . . . and you have done this in return." The focus on the wounds of Jesus and on His Precious Blood are characteristic of Saint Catherine.

The Flesh of the Priest, Anointed and Consecrated

O despicable, wretched man, not man but beast! That you should give your flesh, anointed and consecrated to Me, to prostitutes and worse! By the wounded Body of My only-begotten Son on the wood of the most holy cross, your flesh and that of the whole human race was healed of the wound Adam dealt it by his sin. O wretch! He honored you and you disgrace Him! He healed your wounds with His Blood, and more, He made you His minister, and you persecute Him with your lustful dishonorable sins! The Good Shepherd washed the little sheep clean in His Blood. But you defile those who are pure. You use your power to hurl them into the dung heap. You who ought to be a mirror of honor are a mirror of dishonor. You have yielded all your members to the works of wickedness, doing the opposite of what My Truth did for you.

The Eyes of the Priest

I allowed them to blindfold HIs eyes to enlighten you, and you with your lustful eyes shoot poisoned arrows into your own soul and the hearts of those you look on so miserably.

The Tongue of the Priest

I let them give Him vinegar and gall to drink, and you like a perverse beast find your pleasure in delicate foods, making a god of your belly. On your tongue are dishonorable empty words. It is your duty with that tongue to admonish your neighbors, to proclaim My word, and to say the Office with your heart as well as your tongue. But I smell nothing but filth coming from your tongue as you swear and perjure yourself as you were a swindling hoodlum, blaspheming me right and left.

The Hands of the Priest

I let them bind My Sons hands to free you and the whole of mankind from the bondage of sin, and anointed and consecrated your hands for the ministry of the Most Holy Sacrament, and you use your hands for wretched obscene touching. All the actions you express through your hands are corrupt and directed to the devil's service. O wretch! And I appointed you to such dignity so that you might serve Me alone--you and every other rational creature.

The following section is especially beautiful. The Father presents the Body of His Son as stairway leading to Himself. He speaks of the open Side of Jesus through which one sees His inmost Heart. The Heart of Jesus is a hostelry open to those who seek to taste the Father's unspeakable love.

The Feet of the Priest

I willed that my Son's feet should be nailed, and made His Body a stairway for you. I let them open His Side so that you might see His inmost Heart. I set Him like an open hostelry where you could see and taste My unspeakable love for you when you found and saw My divinity united with your humanity. There you see that I have made the Blood-- of which you are a steward for Me--to be a bath to wash away your sins. And you have made of your heart a temple for the devil! And your will, of which your feet are a symbol, you use to offer me nothing but filth and abuse. The feet of your will carry you nowhere except to the devil's haunts. So with your whole body you persecute My Son's Body by doing the opposite of what He did and what you and everyone else are bound and obligated to do.

The 2002 editio typica of the Missale Romanum contains the following Collect for the memorial of Saint Louis-Marie Grignion de Montfort, Priest. The Collect is an admirable synthesis of the charism of Saint Louis-Marie. Every line of the text alludes to an element characteristic of his spirituality. The English translation is my own.

O God, who willed to guide the steps
of your priest, saint Louis-Marie,
into the way of salvation and of delight in Christ
in the company of the Blessed Virgin,
grant that we, by following his example,
may meditate the mysteries of your love
and devote ourselves tirelessly to the upbuilding of your Church.

Third Sunday of Paschaltide

Acts 3:13-15.17-19
Psalm 4:2.4.7.9.
1 John 2:1-5
Luke 24:35-48

Today's image shows the tabernacle door of the Church of Saint Anna, Andogno, Tavodio, Italy. Notice the little keyhole on the bottom of the right side.

The Incendiary Gospel

"Lord Jesus, open the Scriptures to us. When Thou speakest, make our hearts burn with love" (cf. Lk 24:32). Who but the Word can open the Word to us? In His light we see light; only in the light of the Paschal Candle -- that is, of the Risen Christ -- does the light of the Scriptures become apparent. The breath of Christ fills the words of the Holy Gospel with spirit and life (Jn 6:63). The liturgic Gospel -- the Gospel proclaimed in the midst of the Church and making Christ present -- fills the heart with fire. "Behold," He says through the prophet Jeremiah, "I am making my words in your mouth a fire, and this people wood, and the fire shall devour them, says the Lord, the God of hosts" (Jer 5:14). The disciples at Emmaus said, "Did not our hearts burn within us while He talked to us on the road, while He opened to us the Scriptures?" (Lk 24:32). The proclamation of the Holy Gospel is always incendiary: a devouring fire in the heart of the Church.

The five new saints whose canonization was celebrated in Rome this morning: Bernard Tolomei (1272--1348), Nuno de Santa Maria of Portugal (1360-1431), Caterina Volpicelli (1839-1894), Gertrude Comensoli (1847-1903), Saint Arcangelo Tadini (1846-1912) were men and women set ablaze with the Divine Fire of the Gospel. Two of them touch me in a special way: Saint Bernard Tolomei for his renewal of Benedictine life, and Saint Gertrude Comensoli for her charism of Eucharistic adoration.

The Gift of Peace

In today's Gospel Our Lord offers us two gifts, and He expresses two desires. The first gift is peace. "Jesus Himself stood among them and said to them, 'Peace be upon you!'" (Lk 24: 36). We ask for this peace in every Mass before Holy Communion: "O Lord Jesus Christ, who said to Thy apostles: I leave you peace, my peace I give you, look not on my sins, but on the faith of Thy Church and graciously grant her peace and unity in accordance with Thy will." This is the peace that comes over a troubled heart when the words of sacramental absolution are pronounced. The peace that Christ offers is His very own: a peace that flows out of His life of communion with the Father in the Holy Spirit. Christ's peace carries us upward; it flows back towards its origin and source in the bosom of the Father. In the Second Reading Saint John said: "We have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the Righteous" (1 Jn 2:1). Every advocate seeks to win peace for those whom he represents. Peace, then, is the first gift of the Risen Christ.

The Holy and Glorious Wounds of Christ

After this first gift, Our Lord expresses His desire: "See My hands and My feet" (Lk 24:39). Jesus would have us contemplate His holy and glorious wounds. The wounds of the Risen Christ are the glory of the Father and the joy of the Church. The wounds of Christ are the indelible sign of His everlasting priesthood and the remedy for our wounds, fountains of healing for us, springs of salvation. "Repent, therefore," says Saint Peter, "and turn again, that your sins may be blotted out" (Ac 3:19). Turn again? Turn whereto? To the holy and glorious wounds of Jesus Christ. There is a very simple form of contemplative prayer in which the risen Christ applies His wounds to the wounds of the soul. It is an operation of naked faith, a wordless contact in the darkness. It touches the secret unexposed places deep within, concealed well below feelings and concepts.

Rest in Wounds of the Saviour

Listen to Saint Bernard: "Where shall the weak find a safe rest or a secure refuge except in the wounds of the Saviour. I have sinned most grievously but I am not confounded because I will call to mind the wounds of my Saviour. For He was wounded for our sins. What sin can be so much 'unto death' as that it cannot be 'loosed' by the death of Christ? Therefore no disease however desperate, shall have power to drive me to despair, if only I keep in mind so powerful and effective a remedy."

Christ Our Priest

The wounds of Christ are not only our healing; they are the glorification of the Father as well, and this, throughout all eternity. Our Eternal High Priest presents Himself before the Father's face. He says to the Father exactly what He says to us: "See my hands and my feet." The Father, reads the immensity of His love in the depths of His wounds, and in the wounds of the Son the Father is glorified.

Our Lord to Sister Marie-Marthe Chambon, Visitandine (1841-1907)

My daughter, recognize the world's treasury. . . the world does not want to recognize it. If anyone is in need, let him come with faith and confidence, let him draw constantly from the treasury of My Passion. Here is all that is need to pay one's debts.

One must not be afraid to display My Wounds to souls. My Wounds are the simple and easy way that leads to heaven. In the contemplation of My Wounds one finds everything for oneself and for others.

My daughter, where are saints made if not within My Wounds? The fruits of holiness come forth from My Wounds. Just as gold purified in the crucible becomes more beautiful, so too must you put your soul and the souls of your sisters in My Sacred Wounds; there they will be made perfect like gold in the furnace.

The sinner who will say the following prayer: Eternal Father, I offer Thee the Wounds of Our Lord to heal the wounds of our souls, will obtain his conversion.

This then is the first desire that Our Lord expresses today: that we should contemplate His glorious wounds, even as the Father contemplates them in the heavenly sanctuary where Christ is living forever to intercede for all who come to God through Him (Heb 7:25).

Touch Me

A second desire follows the first one: "Handle me," He says. Jesus wants us to touch Him eucharistically. It is not enough for Him that we should gaze upon His wounds, Our Lord would have us touch Him so as to sanctify our flesh by contact with His saving flesh. The most human of all desires is the desire to be touched. The newborn child seeks to be touched, so too in extreme old age one seeks comfort and healing in the touch of another. In the risen Christ, this most human of all desires -- the desire to be touched -- has become the most divine of all desires. "Handle me," says Jesus.

How are we to respond to this desire of the risen Christ? First, know that so often we open the book of the Scriptures, so often as we kiss the sacred page so full of His presence and open our hearts to His message, spiritually we touch Him, allowing Him inwardly to touch us by His words. Second, so often as we open our mouths to receive His Sacred Body and Precious Blood, we respond to His desire. "Touch me," He says, and so that we might really touch Him, day after day until His coming in glory, He said: "Take this, all of you and eat it: this is My Body, and take this, all of you, and drink from it: this is the cup of My Blood."

Third, what is true of the Eucharistic Body of Christ is equally true of His Mystical Body. So often as we stretch out our hands in compassion, in the act of giving, in reverent tenderness, in chaste affection, in humble service of the least among us, we touch the Body of Christ. We respond to his desire: "Touch me!" "I tell you solemnly, in so far as you did this to one of the least of these brothers of Mine, you did it to Me" (Mt 25:40). The Body of Christ, bruised and buffeted, disfigured and bloodied, waits to be touched in His members; the glorious and glorifying Body of Christ waits to be touched, taken and eaten in the Eucharist.

Peering Through the Trellis

And finally, a second gift: "He opened their minds to understand the scriptures" (Lk 24: 45). The words of the Scriptures form a kind of trellis, a lattice work behind which we discern the adorable Face of Jesus Christ radiant with the glory of the Father. "See where he stands behind our wall. . . he peers through the lattice" (Ct 2:9) says the bride in the Song of Songs. Scripture is the mysterious face of Christ turned towards all who seek Him. The Church is fascinated, magnetized, polarized by the Face of Jesus Christ shining in the Scriptures. Week after week, even day after day, in the liturgy we celebrate, in the psalms we sing, we learn to discover the Face behind the words. . . and the Heart beneath the Face, and this very discovery is His paschal gift to us. Do we not pray in today's Responsorial Psalm: "Lift up the light of Thy countenance upon us, O Lord" (Ps 4:6b).

Two Desires and Two Gifts

Two desires and two gifts. Have we opened our hearts to receive Our Lord's gift of peace? Have we risked encountering Him in the Law of Moses, the Prophets and the Psalms? Do we use the eyes of faith to gaze upon His wounds holy and glorious? Our hands, are they stretched forth to touch Him and to be touched by Him in the sacred mysteries of His Body and Blood and in the suffering members of His Mystical Body ? May this paschal celebration of two gifts and two desires enable us to say with Saint Augustine: "I tasted Thee and I feel but hunger and thirst for Thee. Thou didst touch me, and I am set on fire to attain the peace which is Thine" (Confessions X, xxvii).

Today, April 25th, is my nameday. How many readers remember that great little book by Helen McLoughlin, "My Nameday -- Come for Dessert"? Liturgical Press 1962! It was great fun.

A Litany of Patrons

I am very happy that my parents christened me Mark Daniel, thereby giving me the patronage of both an evangelist and a prophet! At Confirmation I added the name of Saint Michael for the glorious Archangel, and my monastic patrons are the Blessed Virgin Mary, Saint John the Evangelist, and Blessed Columba Marmion, with the title "of the Heart of Jesus." As far as I can determine, I am the first Mark in the family while being one of a very long line of Daniels.

Hastening to the Cross

Saint Mark's Gospel has been described as a "hastening to the Cross." It is Saint Mark who gives us the confession of faith of the centurion Saint Longinus, while Saint John tells us that the same centurion opened the side of Jesus with a lance. A link with the mystery of the Pierced Heart! And this year my nameday falls on a Friday.

Saint Mark, Evangelist

1 Peter 5: 5b-14
Psalm 88: 2-3, 6-7, 16-17
Mark 16: 15-20

Mark and Peter

Tradition calls Saint Mark the interpreter of Saint Peter; clearly the relationship between Peter and Mark was both strong and tender. In today's First Reading, Saint Peter calls Mark "his son"; (1 P 5:13), suggesting the gift and mystery of the Fisherman's spiritual fatherhood in Christ. Mark was a son to Peter. Personally, I find in this a compelling reason to look confidently to Peter and his successors, and to remain attached to Peter and to his successor, today Pope Benedict XVI, as a son to his spiritual father. Mark laboured at Peter's side, preaching the Gospel in Rome before carrying it to Venice and then to Alexandria where he gave his life for Christ. To this day the Churches of Rome, Venice, and Alexandria rejoice in the protection of Saint Mark and seek his intercession.

Be Not in Doubt for I am with Thee

Some of you may remember the coat of arms of Blessed John XXIII as Patriarch of Venice. It bore the inscription: Pax tibi, Marce, evangelista meus, "Peace to you, Mark, my evangelist!" I have always taken comfort in these words. They are personal, a kind of message to the heart.

My great-great-grandmother, Edvige Maierotti Onoratelli, was Venetian and would have known this motto well; to this day it is displayed with Saint Mark's lion on the coat of arms and flag of Venice, La Serenissima. The text is not found in Sacred Scripture; it comes rather from the ancient Passion of Saint Mark, the account of his martyrdom. The story goes that on the day of Pascha, after singing Mass, Saint Mark was seized, a rope was attached to his neck, and he was dragged through the city of Alexandria until his blood ran upon the stones. After this, he was imprisoned. An angel came to comfort him, and after the angel, the Lord Jesus himself came to visit and comfort Mark, saying, "Peace be to thee, Mark, my evangelist! Be not in doubt for I am with thee and shall deliver thee." The following day Mark was put to death, thanking God, and repeating the words of the Crucified: "Into thy hands, Lord, I commend my spirit" (cf. Lk 23:46).

Saint Mark the Preacher

The word "preaching" occurs in each of the three Proper prayers, the Collect, the Prayer Over the Offerings, and the Postcommunion. Mark was an Evangelist, not only as a writer of the second Gospel, but also as a preacher, spending himself, pouring himself out for Christ. In the Collect we beg for the grace to "deepen his teaching." The Latin text says proficere which means to gain ground or to advance. This is what lectio divina is all about: gaining ground in the Gospel, penetrating ever more deeply the inexhaustible riches of the Word.

Perseverance

In the Prayer Over the Gifts we ask that the Church may "ever persevere in preaching the Gospel." The Church, like Saint Mark in his passion, needs the comforting presence of Christ who says, "Be not in doubt for I am with thee," and she has that comforting presence always in the mystery of the Eucharist. The words of Christ to Saint Mark echo those given us in today's Communion Antiphon: "Behold, I am with you always, even to the close of the age" (Mt 28:20).

The Eucharist: Christ in Us

In the Postcommunion, we ask that what we have received from the altar may "sanctify us, and make us strong in the faith of the Gospel preached by Saint Mark." This prayer instructs us on the dynamic relationship between the altar and the ambo or, if you will, between the Eucharist and the Gospel. We ordinarily think of the preaching of the Gospel as sending us to the altar, and preparing our hearts for the Holy Sacrifice, and rightly so. But today';s Postcommunion suggests something else as well. The Eucharist fulfills what the Gospel announces: the mystery of holiness, that is, "Christ in us, the hope of glory" (Col 1:27).

The Eucharist makes us strong in the faith of the Gospel; it is our viaticum, food for the journey of faith, a remedy for every infirmity. The seed sown by holy preaching is made fruitful by the mysteries of Christ's Body and Blood. Take away the altar, and the ambo stands in a void. The altar is the guarantee of that abiding presence of the comforting Christ who says to each of us today, as to Saint Mark, "Peace be to thee. . . . Be not in doubt, for I am with thee and shall deliver thee."

Ut Unum Sint

Although the Roman Martyrology notes the day of her death on April 23, 1939, the Cistercian and Trappist calendars commemorate Blessed Maria Gabriella, a nun of Grottaferrata in Italy, on April 22. Pope John Paul II beatified Blessed Maria Gabriella dell'Unità in 1983 and in his Encyclical on Christian unity, Ut Unum Sint, presented her again to the whole Church as a model of "the total and unconditional offering of one's life to the Father, through the Son, in the Holy Spirit." Her monastic life was brief: three and a half years. She died after fifteen months of tuberculosis at the age of twenty-five.

The Dilated Heart

Blessed Maria Gabriella is, in many ways, a woman to whom anyone touched by suffering and disability can relate, and for many reasons. The physical limitations that reduced her "doing" expanded her "being" until, at length, the Holy Ghost dilated her heart to the dimensions of the Heart of Jesus, the Good Shepherd. How can I not think here of my esteemed friend Vincent Uher at Tonus Peregrinus?

Silence Turned to Praise

Blessed Maria-Gabriella is one of those who, having heard the Word, held it in silence: in the silence of wonderment, in the silence that confesses God present, in the silence that allows the Word to sink into the deep and secret places of the soul. For Maria-Gabriella, this silence turned to praise: a sublime praise uttered by Christ the Eternal High Priest in the seventeenth chapter of Saint John's Gospel. At the end of life, she confided: "I cannot say but these words, 'My God, your Glory.'"

Pages Become Transparent

Maria Sagghedù, leaving her native Sardinia for Grottaferrata, entered a monastery that was economically and culturally poor, although governed by Mother Maria Pia Gulini, an abbess who believed in keeping a window open onto the wider Church. Maria Gabriella lived a hidden life circumscribed by the cloister, by silence and by obedience. Her monastic life was short; she crossed the threshold of the Abbey of Grottaferrata in 1935 and died in 1939, a mere three and a half years later. It was Good Shepherd Sunday at the hour of Vespers, the Church's evening sacrifice of praise. The Gospel that day had been from Saint John: "There will be one fold, and one shepherd" (Jn 10:16). After Maria Gabriella's death, her sisters found that her little pocket edition of the New Testament, worn from use, opened by itself to the seventeenth chapter of Saint John's Gospel. Those few pages of Jesus' Priestly Prayer, so often touched by Mother Maria Gabriella's feverish hands, had become almost transparent.

The Unity of the Mystical Body

Blessed Maria Gabriella's offering for Christian unity witnesses to the fundamental thrust of every monastic life, both in its canonical form within the enclosure walls, or in its interior expression, without cloister or habit, in the world. Monastic conversion is a movement from the divided, fragmented self to the whole self, healed and unified in the love of Christ. The restoration of unity is the great monastic work; it is the end and fruit of every Eucharistic Sacrifice. Saint Thomas Aquinas teaches the end proper to the Sacrament of the Eucharist is the unity of the Mystical Body. Let us then go to the altar, letting go of things that fragment that unity, and ready to receive the gifts by which unity is repaired.

Read more about Blessed Maria Gabriella dell'Unità here and here.

"Mary Magdalene went and said to the disciples, 'I have seen the Lord'; and she told them that He had said these things to her." (John 20:18

Women Apostles

I am thinking, on this feast of the Divine Mercy, of four women raised up by the Spirit of God in the course of the last century to deliver a message to the Church. Each one prophesied the mystery of the Divine Mercy in her own language, using her own vocabulary, images, and unique feminine sensibility.

Two were French: Thérèse and Yvonne-Aimée; one was Spanish: Josefa Menendez; and one was Polish: Maria Faustina Kowalska. Two were humble laysisters charged with the lowliest tasks in their convents, all the while receiving the secrets of Heaven: Josefa and Faustina. One, Thérèse, was a young Carmelite hidden away in her cloister, and dreaming of doing great deeds for France (like Jeanne d'Arc), for missionaries, and for the salvation of sinners. And one, Yvonne-Aimée, was a heroine of the French resistance during World War II, a spiritual mother to priests, a divinely-inspired risk-taker for love for her Jesus, and a bold and prudent renovator of religious life.

Our Lord to Sister Josefa Menendez (1890-1923)

"I am He Who forgives thee thy sins, Who wipes out thy offences, and Who sustains thy weakness! The greater is thy nothingness, the more My power upholds thee: I will enrich thee with My gifts, and if thou art faithful I will take sanctuary in thy heart and fly to it when sinners repudiate Me. I will rest in thee, and thou shalt have life in Me."

"If thou art an abyss of wretchedness, I am an abyss of sweetness and of mercy. My Heart is thy refuge, come there to seek all thou has need of; even such things aas I require at thy hands."

"Instead of looking at thy nullity, look at the power of My Heart that upholds thee and have no fear. I am thy strength and shall heal thy wounds."

"What canst thou fear from Me? Never question My love for thee, or the clemency of My Heart. Thy misery draws me to thee . . . without Me what art thou? Never forget that I am all the closer to thee, in proportion to thy lowliness."

"Never grieve overmuch at thy falls --cannot I make a saint of thee? I will seek thee out in thy nothingness to unite Myself to thee, only never refuse Me anything."

"The void and misery in thee are as magnets that attract My love to thee. Yield not to discouragement, for my Mercy is honoured in thy infirmity."

Saint Faustina Before the Blessed Sacrament

In her quest for Divine Mercy for herself, for poor sinners, for priests, for the dying, and for the whole world, Saint Faustina knew where to go. She was drawn to the tabernacle: the dwelling and fountainhead of Divine Mercy.

O Blessed Host, in whom is contained the infinite price of mercy which will compensate for all our debts, and especially those of poor sinners.

O Blessed Host, in whom is contained the fountain of living water which springs from infinite mercy for us, and especially for poor sinners.

O Blessed Host, in whom is contained the fire of purest love which blazes forth from the bosom of the Eternal Father, as from an abyss of infinite mercy for us, and especially for poor sinners.

O Blessed Host, in whom is contained the medicine for all our infirmities, flowing from infinite mercy, as from a fount, for us and especially for poor sinners.

O Blessed Host, in whom is contained the union between God and us through His infinite mercy for us, and especially for poor sinners.

O Blessed Host, in whom are contained all the sentiments of the most sweet Heart of Jesus toward us, and especially poor sinners.

Saint Faustina's Aspirations to the Most Blessed Sacrament

Surrendering to Mercy

Thérèse was inspired to make her Oblation to Merciful Love on Sunday, June 9, 1895:

"In the evening of this life, I shall appear before You with empty hands, for I do not ask You, Lord, to count my works. All our justice is stained in Your eyes. I wish, then, to be clothed in Your own Justice and to receive from Your Love the eternal possession of Yourself. I want no other Throne, no other Crown but You, my Beloved!

Time is nothing in Your eyes, and a single day is like a thousand years. You can, then, in one instant prepare me to appear before You.

In order to live in one single act of perfect Love, I OFFER MYSELF AS A VICTIM OF HOLOCAUST TO YOUR MERCIFUL LOVE, asking You to consume me incessantly, allowing the waves of infinite tenderness shut up within You to overflow into my soul, and that thus I may become a martyr of Your Love, O my God!

May this martyrdom, after having prepared me to appear before You, finally cause me to die and may my soul take its flight without any delay into the eternal embrace of Your Merciful Love."

To Josefa, Our Lord said, "Believe in My love and in My mercy." Faustina has taught the world to say, "Jesus, I trust in Thee." And Yvonne-Aimée's miraculous little invocation has changed the lives of thousands: "O Jesus, King of Love, I put my trust in Thy merciful goodness."

No Limitations to Trust in My Mercy

"I feel somehow that the time is at hand when Your Infinite Mercy will come to our aid." Yvonne-Aimée after a Gestapo search during World War II

"Do you know?" Jesus said to me, "that there are souls that don't dare to think of Me as their best Friend and don't realize that My Heart is always waiting to receive them . . . I am pure Love and I find my happiness in knowing them close to Me and giving them My Love in full measure. . . . They should approach Me with humility and respect, but I also want them to think of Me as their Father and feel at ease with Me. Affection and childlike trust are what they need to talk to God and it saddens Me to see them come to Me almost suspiciously, in fear and trembling, when all I want is their love."

"My Mercy is infinite," Jesus said; "all souls can reach My Divine Heart and rise to whatever heights they wish within that Heart. I make no distinction between the innocent and the guilty -- the more they love Me, the dearer they are to Me. No soul will ever find limitations to its trust in My Mercy, for I want that trust to go on growing for ever . . ." Mother Yvonne-Aimée's Diary -- 1922

Happy Birthday, Holy Father!

Today is the Holy Father's 82nd birthday. Joseph Ratzinger, Pope Benedict XVI was born on April 16, 1927. It was Holy Saturday. He was baptized on the same day. One-hundred-forty-four years earlier, on April 16, 1783 a poor man, who prayed always, died in Rome. His name: Benedict Joseph Labre. It is strange and wonderful that a man named Joseph, born on the feast of Saint Benedict Joseph, should take the name Benedict upon his election to the papacy. It is as if a providential indication of his destiny had been given from the beginning.

A Pilgrim

Saint Benedict Joseph Labre, born on March 26, 1748 in northern France, exemplifies a very particular kind of holiness found in both East and West. He was a wanderer who prayed ceaselessly, a pilgrim walking from one holy place to another, a fool for Christ.

A Misfit

As a young man, Benedict Joseph made a number of unsuccessful attempts at monastic life. He tried his vocation with the Trappists, with the Cistercians, and with the Carthusians, but, in every instance, after a few months or a few weeks, he was rejected as being unsuitable. Benedict Joseph was endearing in his own way. He was a gentle young man, tortured by scruples of conscience, and sensitive. He was completely honest, humble, candid, and open. He was cheerful. But, for all of that, he was a misfit. There was an oddness about him. He was drawn irresistibly to monastic life and, at the same time, rejected from every monastery in which he tried his vocation.