Vultus Christi

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.

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.

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.

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.

My friend Terry at Abbey–Roads has some brilliant posts for today's feast of Saint Francis of Assisi. He says, among other things, that "Francis, in his most authentic image, is an icon of Jesus Crucified. He is in a tattered habit, his side and limbs wounded with the stigmata, his body like gnarled roots, barefoot, trampling the globe representing the world underfoot. He holds a cross, and perhaps a skull, representing the brevity of life and our final end. The authentic image of St. Francis calls us to penance, while urging us to love - to love love, and make love loved."

Do pay Abbey–Roads a visit and be sure to scroll down to the entry for October 3rd on the Transitus of Saint Francis.

I told you that once, when I had to pass through a heavy storm, I found myself before my sacramental Love and my soul flew in spirit to embrace that Infinite Love exposed on the altar for the adoration of the people. Then I heard my Savior speak this sweet message: “My son, he who embraces me, embraces thorns.� Do you believe, my daughter, that my soul fails to understand that our Jesus is a sea of infinite sweetness? Certainly, I have understood that, but God made me understand something further with the words: “He who embraces me, embraces thorns.� Just as our good Jesus willed that his life on earth should be passed always in the midst of the thorns of pain, sufferings, fatigues, privation, agony, contempt, calumny, sorrow, nails, thorns, and a most bitter death on the cross, so he made me understand that in embracing him, I would have to live my life in the midst of pain. Oh! how my heart exulted and embraced every sort of pain. But I have been unfaithful.
(Saint Paul of the Cross, Letter 54, 29 August 1737)

Saint Paul of the Cross (1694–1775) has long been a favourite of mine. (I rather suspect that Terry over at Abbey–Roads feels the same way about him.) He is depicted in this painting just as Saint Bernard of Clairvaux is often shown: in the embrace of Jesus Crucified, with the instruments of the Passion round about him. Paul of the Cross frequently quotes Saint Bernard's writings on the Passion of the Lord.

Laus Crucis introduces us to yet another holy young Passionist: Blessed Pio (Campidelli) of Saint Aloysius. In many ways, Blessed Pio reminds me of Blessed Marie–Joseph Cassant, the young Trappist of Sainte–Marie–du Désert. Pio Campidelli was born at Poggio Berni (Forli) in Italy on April 29, 1868. He entered the Passionists in his fourteenth year. The young Pio was drawn to the Mother of God, to the mystery of the Eucharist, and to Jesus Crucified. His way of holiness was fidelity to ordinary things with an extraordinary love. Pio received the Minor Orders and, after offering his life for his beloved native region of Romagna, died on November 2, 1889. He was twenty–one years old.

Pope John Paul II beatified Pio on November 17, 1985. The Passionists celebrate his liturgical memorial on November 3rd. Here is the Collect for the Mass and Office of Blessed Pio:

O God,
who reveal yourself in a marvelous way
to the little ones and to the pure of heart,
manifest yourself to us, we beseech you,
as you did to Blessed Pius,
and grant that we may follow you unceasingly,
our one and true God, in purity and sincerity of life,
loving you above all things and loving others with your love.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God forever and ever.

Energetic in Everything He Undertook for God

Saint Willibrord is the patron saint of Holland. He was also a Benedictine, one of the companions of Saint Boniface and Saint Lioba in the English evangelization of Northern Europe. Alcuin, in his Life of Willibrord, describes him as “comely of face, cheerful in spirit, wise in counsel, pleasing in speech, grave in character and energetic in everything he undertook for God.� Willibrord’s ministry was one of zealous preaching shaped by the psalmody of the Hours and by the practice of lectio divina.

Willibrord Changes Water Into Wine

Alcuin relates a number of miracles performed by Saint Willibrord. I especially like one having to do with wine. It shows a fully human and compassionate Willibrord. On one occasion, Willibrord came with his companions to the house of a friend of his and wished to break the fatigue of the long journey by taking a meal there, but it came to his ears that the head of the house had no wine. He gave orders that four small flasks — all that his companions carried with them for their needs on the journey — should be brought to him. He blessed them in the name of Christ who at the marriage feast of Cana changed water into wine. After Willibrord’s gracious blessing about forty people drank their fill from the small bottles. With great thanksgiving and joyful hearts, they said one to another: " The Lord Jesus has in truth fulfilled His promise in the Gospel: 'He who believes in me will do the deeds I do, and greater than these shall he do.'"

Plant the Cross and Build A Monastery Around It

Saint Willibrord illustrates for us, in this time of the “new evangelization,� the enduring value of the monastic mission. To plant the Cross and to build a monastery around it remains, even today, an act of evangelization, an effective way of preaching the gospel. Monasteries open and monasteries close but wherever men and women truly seek God and prefer nothing to the love of Christ the seed of the Gospel is planted in the earth to bear a fruit that will abide (Jn 15:16).

Blessed Elizabeth of the Trinity
+ 9 November 1906

The centenary of the death of Blessed Elizabeth of the Trinity (1906–2006) is a moment of grace for all who love her and for the whole Church. Her "Elevation to the Most Holy Trinity" has touched thousands of souls. For many it is has opened the door of an interior life of adoration and of love.

O my God, Trinity whom I adore;
help me to forget myself entirely that I may be established in You
as still and as peaceful as if my soul were already in eternity.
May nothing trouble my peace or make me leave You,
O my Unchanging One,
but may each minute carry me further into the depths of Your mystery.
Give peace to my soul; make it Your heaven,
Your beloved dwelling and Your resting place.
May I never leave You there alone
but be wholly present, my faith wholly vigilant,
wholly adoring, and wholly surrendered to Your creative Action.

O my Three, my All,
my Beatitude, infinite Solitude, Immensity in which I lose myself,
I surrender myself to You as Your prey.
Bury Yourself in me that I may bury myself in You
until I depart to contemplate in Your light
the abyss of Your greatness.

-Blessed Elizabeth of the Trinity, 21 November 1904

Elizabeth of the Trinity's words are not unlike those of her sister in Carmel, Thérèse of the Child Jesus and of the Holy Face, who promised to spend her heaven doing good on earth. Elizabeth envisaged that she too would have a mission in heaven:

"I think, that in Heaven my mission will be to draw souls by helping them go out of themselves to cling to God by a wholly simple and loving movement, and to keep them in this great silence within that will allow God to communicate Himself to them and transform them into Himself."

I happen to have a friend who — quite apart from the fact that she is of Hungarian descent — reminds me of Saint Elizabeth of Hungary. She is not a queen. She is a wife, the mother of two teen–agers, and a nurse. She offers friendship, comfort, help in need, and good counsel. She accompanies insecure, inept, and frightened people to the doctor's office, visits the sick at home, runs to the assistance of families in distress, and occasionally looks after injured animals in her neighbourhood. On Thanksgiving she opens her home to those without family. For all of that, she finds time to pray, often slipping into church for a time of Eucharistic adoration or a rosary. She goes to Mass during the week. Like Saint Elizabeth of Hungary, she practices the Seven Corporal and Seven Spiritual Works of Mercy.

I mused in my homily this morning that an artist should paint a series of fourteen panels showing Saint Elizabeth of Hungary practicing the Corporal and Spiritual Works of Mercy. Adé Béthune did her own series for The Catholic Worker many years ago. At Santa Croce in Gerusalemme we have enormous canvases depicting them all over the abbey; I wish I had photos of them to post here.

Today is the anniversary of the death of Mother Clelia Merloni (1861–1930), the foundress of the Apostles of the Sacred Heart. Mother Clelia’s life was marked by the betrayal of her confidence, by financial ruin, calumny, plotting, and the loss of her good name. In 1911 the Holy See removed Mother Clelia from the office of superior of the institute she had founded. She accepted the humiliation with quiet courage, never losing her confidence in the Heart of Jesus.

In 1916, after an agonizing struggle, she requested and obtained a dispensation from her vows, preferring to withdraw from her community rather than be an obstacle to its growth. In 1928, two years before her death, she was readmitted into the congregation she had founded and welcomed back at the house in Rome. She spent the time that remained in solitary prayer, in reparation, adoration, and silence. As a very young woman she had desired the cloistered life; in the end it was given her, not in a monastery, but in a simple “upper room� on the Via Germano Sommeiller in Rome. There Mother Clelia became a flame of love burning itself out for the love of Christ, the mystery of his Sacred Heart, the Eucharist, the priesthood, and the institute to which she gave birth. Mother Clelia died on Friday, November 21, 1930. The cause for her canonization was opened in 1989.

Mother Clelia is close to those who suffer rejection and apparent failure. She understands the plight of those who are misunderstood and judged. She has a maternal sympathy for those who make false starts in life and for those who, in spite of obstacles and hardships, persevere in searching for the will of God. She is a faithful friend of priests. Pray to her.

I never tire of looking at the statue of Saint Cecilia which lies over the tomb in her church in Rome’s Trastevere. Cecilia is lying on her side, looking almost as if she had been flung there. Her lovely face is hidden and her head is covered with the veil of virgins. The slash of the cruel blade across her neck is visible.

Even in death Cecilia declares her Catholic faith: the finger of one hand is extended, signifying her faith in the one true God. With three fingers of the other hand she confesses the Most Holy Trinity. Her knees are drawn up, making her look like a sleeping child. Her dress falls in graceful folds about her body. The whole composition is marked by purity and grace.

In 1599, when Pope Clement VIII disinterred Saint Cecilia’s body, it was found to be incorrupt. The Pontiff engaged Stefano Maderno to carve Cecilia just as she was discovered. The artist inscribed his testimony on the statue’s base: “Behold the body of the most holy virgin Cecilia whom I myself saw lying incorrupt in her tomb. I have in this marble expressed for thee the same saint in the very same posture of body.�

Maderno was only twenty–three when he carved his Saint Cecilia; though he lived be forty, Saint Cecilia is his masterpiece. Reposing in death, Cecilia illustrates the truth of the psalmist’s words: “God gives to His beloved in slumber� (Ps 127:2).

Maderno’s Saint Cecilia reminds me also of the young Thérèse Martin who lingered before it while on pilgrimage to Rome with her father in 1887. Later on, Thérèse was inspired to write this prayer:

Cecilia, lend to me thy melody most sweet:
How many souls would I convert to Jesus now.
I fain would die, like thee, to win them to His feet;
For him give all my tears, my blood. Oh, help me thou!
Pray for me that I gain, on this our pilgrim way
Perfect abandonment that sweetest fruit of love.
Saint of my heart! Oh, soon, bring me to endless day;
Obtain that I may fly, with thee, to heaven above!

April 28, 1893

Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus and of the Holy Face (1873–1897)
Saint Théophane Vénard (1829–1861)

It is true that the Lord chooses the little ones to confound the strong of this world. I do not rely on my own strengths, but on the strength of Him who, on the Cross, conquered the powers of hell.
(Saint Théophane Vénard quoted by Saint Thérèse)

Speaking to French pilgrims on the day after the canonization of the Martyrs of Vietnam, Pope John Paul II said, "Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus was on intimate terms with Saint Théophane Vénard whose picture never left her as she suffered the pangs of death."

Thérèse wrote, "I like Théophane Vénard even more than Saint Aloysius Gonzaga because the life of Saint Aloysius Gonzaga was extraordinary and Théophane Vénard's was quite ordinary. . . . My soul is like his. He is the one who has best lived my way of spiritual childhood." The young Carmelite pinned a picture of Théophane Vénard to her bed curtains, together with one of the Blessed Virgin and photos of her little siblings who had died.

Thérèse had read the young martyr's biography and his correspondence. She composed a poem in his honour and, at the end of her life, expressed the deepest sentiments of her soul by copying out passages from Théophane's letters. "Théophane is a little saint," she wrote. "As a parting souvenir I have copied for you certain passages of the last letters he wrote to his parents; these are my thoughts. My soul resembles his."

On 6 September 1867, twenty–four days before her death, Thérèse was presented with a relic of Théophane Vénard. She caressed it and asked to hold it close that she might kiss it. It was the life and death of Théophane that inspired Thérèse to say that after her death she would return to work on earth until the end of the world.

I have some personal reasons for being very fond of Saint Théophane Vénard. Many years ago when I was serving as Master of Novices, I had in my care a Vietnamese novice who had taken the name of Marie–Théophane. While in France to preach a retreat I had the opportunity to stop at the Missions Étrangères de Paris. I asked if it might be possible to obtain a first–class relic of Saint Théophane for my young confrère. The kind priest who welcomed me was a retired missionary. He radiated a gentle, sturdy holiness. He explained that no relics were available. "But," he said, "we do have here in this glass case the soutane worn by Saint Théophane when he was beheaded." With that, he unlocked the case, pulled scissors out of his pocket and cut off a generous piece of the black soutane. "Take this to your petit frère vietnamien," he said. I was astonished. And tears came to my eyes. You can imagine Frère Marie–Théophane's joy when he received the precious relic.

The second thing that moves me is Théophane's utter fidelity to the Divine Office, even in the most trying conditions. Any priest who has difficulty being faithful to the Liturgy of the Hours should invoke Saint Théophane Vénard. Right up until his martyrdom, even while imprisoned in a bamboo cage, he prayed his breviary, the only book that remained in his possession.

The third and last thing I want to mention is that in 1860, the year before his death, with his bishop's permission, Saint Théophane offered himself to God as a victim for the Church in Tonkin. He offered himself by the hands of the Blessed Virgin Mary, consecrating himself to her according to the formula of Saint Louis Grignion de Montfort. That, it seems to me, is the perfection of the eucharistic and priestly life: total identification with Christ, the immolated Lamb. It is not fashionable in some circles to speak of "victimhood." It makes the learned and the clever sniff and grimace. Tant pis! One who approaches the altar day after day "in spirit and in truth" will, if he surrenders to the Mystery and allows himself to be formed by the Blessed Virgin, realize in his own flesh not only the priesthood of Christ, but also His victimhood. This mystical identification with Christ Priest and Victim is the secret of all sacerdotal fecundity.

I have never made a secret of it: Blessed Abbot Marmion has been for me a spiritual master, a father, and a friend from the time I was fifteen years old. I am thrilled to see a new edition of his spiritual letters.

Zaccheus Press is pleased to announce the release of Union with God: Letters of Spiritual Direction by Blessed Columba Marmion.

One of Mother Teresa's favorite books, Union with God is a collection of letters written by Blessed Columba Marmion to the many persons who sought his spiritual counsel -- with questions about prayer, faith, temptation, suffering, and the struggles of daily life. Marmion excelled in the art of letter-writing -- his advice was always simple and direct, yet profound. In his letters we see him bringing to bear his great depth of theological knowledge in a practical and human way.

Union with God: Letters of Spiritual Direction by Blessed Columba Marmion
ISBN 0-9725981-6-2
233 pages • $14.95 (paperback)

Read Father David L. Toups' Foreward to the new edition of Union with God:

December 1st is the dies natalis of four holy priests who figure in my personal gallery of heavenly heroes.

Saint Ralph Sherwin, Priest and Martyr, (1550–1 December, 1581)
Saint Edmund Campion, Priest and Martyr (1540–1 December 1581)
Saint Ralph Sherwin and Saint Edmund Campion were both martyred for the Catholic faith at Tyburn under Elizabeth I on 1 December, 1581.

The last words of Saint Ralph Sherwin were:
Iesu, Iesu, Iesu, esto mihi Iesus.
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, be to me a Jesus.
These words, singularly suited to the ceaseless prayer of the heart, are inscribed above the altar in the crypt chapel of Tyburn Convent of the Benedictine Adorers of the Sacred Heart in London.

Blessed Charles de Jésus (de Foucauld), Priest and Martyr (1858–1 December 1916) Blessed Charles de Jésus, the hermit of the Sahara, was martyred on 1 December 1916. The Prayer of Abandonment of Blessed Charles of Jesus has helped souls the world over to walk in the path of confidence and spiritual childhood.

Father,
I abandon myself into your hands;
do with me what you will.
Whatever you may do, I thank you:
I am ready for all, I accept all.

Into your hands I commend my soul:
I offer it to you with all the love of my heart,
for I love you, Lord, and so need to give myself,
to surrender myself into your hands without reserve,
and with boundless confidence,
for you are my Father.

The Servant of God Jean–Edouard Lamy, Priest (1853–1 December 1931)
Père Lamy, a priest greatly devoted to the Blessed Virgin Mary and the founder of the Cistercian–inspired Congregation of the Servants of Jesus and Mary, died on 1 December 1931. Père Lamy touched countless souls, among them the French Catholic author Julian Green, and Jacques and Raïssa Maritain. Père Lamy used to say:

The Blessed Virgin can bring down the mercy of God on almost anything. What matters is to go on praying. The Blessed Virgin offers our prayers to God. She touches them up. She makes them into something pleasing. She gilds them when they are only wretched tin–pottery. She is a rag–picker, divinely clever. . . . Prayer even made without great attention is none the less prayer and our holy Mother finishes off what is lacking. . . . She is busy perpetually lessening our weakness before the face of God. What works in her is her kindness, her charity.

I am mindful today of the dear friends named Barbara whom God has sent into my life. According to tradition, Saint Barbara was confined to solitude in a tower with two windows. She had a third window added in honour of the Most Holy Trinity. Thus did the deifying light of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit shine in her solitude and in her soul. It is noteworthy too that Saint Barbara lived and died in Turkey, recently visited by the Holy Father. I very much like this painting of Saint Barbara lifting high the adorable Mysteries of Christ's Body and Blood. It is reminiscent of certain depictions of Saint Clare of Assisi. Both saints shine with a eucharistic light.

At Holy Mass today there will be an intercession in honour of Saint Barbara;

For those called to a life of solitude,
that through the intercession of Saint Barbara, virgin and martyr,
they may persevere in adoration of the Most Holy Trinity
and be strengthened in the virtue of hope,
let us pray in silence — for the Lord is near.

"Hear and let it penetrate into your heart, my dear little son: let nothing discourage you, nothing depress you: let nothing alter your heart or your countenance. Also do not fear any illness or vexation, anxiety or pain. Am I not here who am your Mother? Are you not under my shadow and protection? Am I not your fountain of life? Are you not in the folds of my mantle, in the crossing of my arms? Is there anything else that you need?" (Words of the Blessed Virgin Mary to Juan Diego)

Saint Juan Diego whom we remember on the day after the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception is listed in the Martyrology not as a visionary but as a hermit. Graced with seeing the holy Mother of God in all her radiance, Juan Diego’s vocation unfolded in a life of solitude, ceaseless prayer, and watchfulness.

The holiness of Saint Juan Diego was more in waiting than in seeing. In this, he is a model for all of us. Saint Juan Diego is an Advent saint. The Church sets him before us as a model of vigilance. To those who remain close to her, the Virgin Mother teaches perseverance in the prayer of watching and waiting. I think that this is why she so loves the Rosary and asks us to pray it.

The Rosary is the perfect Advent prayer, especially with the additional mysteries of Our Lady's life, all of which are either found in Sacred Scripture or celebrated in the Church's liturgical tradition: 1) The Immaculate Conception, 2) The Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, 3) Her Presentation in the Temple, 4) Her Betrothal to Saint Joseph, 5) The Annunciation, 6) The Visitation, 7) The Blessed Expectancy of the Blessed Virgin Mary, 8) The Nativity of Jesus, 9) The Presentation in the Temple, 10) The Finding of Jesus in the Temple.

Soeur Bénédicte's Closet

When, on the occasion of her twenty-fifth anniversary of profession, Sister Bénédicte–Marie de la Croix asked to make her retreat with us, we prepared a room for her and, knowing her Carmelite love of silence and solitude, whitewashed a large closet to serve as her hermitage. In it we placed two things: an icon of Saint John of the Cross and a Bible. Sister Bénédicte was deeply moved. She lived that retreat in the company of Saint John of the Cross. Before coming to know our Sister Bénédicte, I used to be afraid of Saint John of the Cross. He seemed so extreme, so forbidding, so unbearably absolute. It was in contemplating Sister Bénédicte’s icon of Saint John of the Cross; then, in reading him, that he became a friend, a brother, a teacher.

John of the Cross: A Saint for Advent

Saint John of the Cross comes to us in the middle of Advent; he comes to us just one week before the longest night of the year. He comes to us today when, by a wonderful coincidence, God speaks to us through the mouth of the prophet Isaiah, saying: “I am the Lord, there is no other; I form the light, and create the darkness� (Is 24:6). Saint John comes to guide us through the night; he is familiar with all its secrets.

Blest night of wandering
In secret, where by none might I be spied,
Nor I see anything;
Without a light to guide,
Save that which in my heart burnt in my side.

(In an Obscure Night, trans. by Arthur Symons)

Poetry, the best poetry, is born of suffering and forged in the crucible of life. Though I find in the poems of Saint John of the Cross a fire that unfailingly warms and illumines, I have, over the years, come to rely more and more on his Precautions, an incomparable guide for the terrible quotidian, wise rules for coping with the struggles and stress of living with oneself and others.

Fra Angelico (1400–1455), of course. Saint Peter is ordaining Stephen to the diaconate while Saint John, holding his Gospel, looks on. The composition is remarkable: the three heads of Peter, John and Stephen form a triangle, a symbol of communion in the Three Divine Persons. Peter is handing over the chalice and paten; they are very large. Fra Angelico makes the Most Holy Eucharist central; he paints what Saint Thomas Aquinas taught, i.e. that the communion of the Church is held together by participation in the Body and Blood of Christ.

December 26
Saint Stephen the Protomartyr

Acts 6:8-10; 7:54-60
Psalm 30:2cd-3, 5, 6b-7a, 16, 20ab
Matthew 10:17-22

The Holy Spirit at Christmas

The liturgy of Christmas, while drawing our gaze to the Son, the Word made flesh, in no way obscures or minimizes the presence and the work of the Holy Spirit. This was brought home to me again yesterday when, quite chance, I came upon an astonishing text of Saint Ephrem the Syrian: “At this feast of the nativity let each person wreathe the door of his heart so that the Holy Spirit may delight in that door, enter in and make there his dwelling; then by the Spirit we will be made holy.�

Already on the First Sunday of Advent, we sang in the Benedictus Antiphon, “The Holy Spirit will come upon thee, O Mary. Do not be afraid.� And on the Second Saturday of Advent, Blessed Isaac of Stella explained that“what is said in the particular case of the Virgin Mother Mary, is rightly understood of the Virgin Mother Church universally� (Sermon 51). Today’s feast of Saint Stephen is the liturgy’s way of repeating now to the Virgin Mother Church the mysterious words of the Angel Gabriel to the Virgin Mother Mary: “Fear not, for thou hast found grace with God.� (Lk 1:30).

Grace and Power

It is remarkable that Saint Luke, author of the Acts of the Apostles describes Saint Stephen in today’s first reading as “full of grace and power� (Ac 6:8). The phrase has a distinctively Marian resonance. To Mary, the “highly-favoured� of God (Lk 1:28), the “full of grace,� the angel Gabriel says: “The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the most High shall overshadow thee� (Lk 1:35). The words addressed to the Virgin Mary in a particular way hold universal import for the Church.

Stephen, “full of grace and power� (Ac 6:8) stands for us on the second day of Christmas, as the radiant icon of the Church indwelt and overshadowed by the Holy Spirit. Without leaving Mary and the Infant Christ, we pass to Stephen and the Infant Christ, to Stephen and the Infant Church.

This Saint John the Evangelist was painted by Francesco Furini sometime in the 1630s. Today it hangs in the Musée des Beaux–Arts of Lyon.

December 27
Saint John, Apostle and Evangelist

1 John 1:1-4
Psalm 96: 1-2. 5-6. 11-12. R. v.12
John 20: 2-8

The Logic of the Liturgy

The liturgy has a marvelous logic all its own. On this second day of the Christmas octave, Mother Church gives us an Easter Gospel! While we are yet at the manger, the liturgy compels us to run to the empty tomb! John, the disciple whom Jesus loved is there before us. His virginal love gave wings to his feet. “Draw me in your footsteps, says the bride of the Canticle, let us run� (Ct 1:4). John is the first of those who “hasten with swift pace and light step and unstumbling feet,� arriving even before Peter, and yet deferring to him.

Peter and John

Hans Urs von Balthasar speaks of a double authority in the Church, a double ministry: the Petrine and Johannine. The Petrine authority is firmly established by Christ on the solid rock of Peter; it continues in the Church through the ministry of Peter’s successors, teaching, reproving, testing, correcting, forgiving and calling together in unity. The Johannine authority speaks with the voice of love, with the inimitable accents of direct experience. It is the authority of the saints and mystics, the authority of holiness, the authority of the greatly loved and of the great lovers. “ I belong to my love, and my love to me� (Ct 6:3).

What We Have Seen and Heard

The Church has need of both voices. She needs the strong, unwavering voice of Peter; she also needs the many-voiced Johannine chorus of those who sing: “Something which has existed since the beginning, that we have heard, and we have seen with our own eyes; that we have contemplated and touched with our own hands: the Word who is life—this is our theme. That life was made visible; we saw it and are giving our testimony. . . . We declare to you what we have seen and heard, so that you too may share our life� (1 Jn 1:1-3).

Love of Things Invisible

The Johannine chorus speaks with the unmistakable authority of those who have gone into the wine-cellar and rested beneath the banner of love (cf. Ct 2:4-5). Their breath is fragrant with honey and with the honeycomb, of wine and of milk: that is with the imperishable sweetness of the Holy Spirit, with the Blood of the Lamb and with the pure milk of the living Word of God. These are the ones who have eaten and drunk, drunk deeply (cf. Ct 5:1) of the streams of living water that flow ever fresh from the pierced Heart of the Bridegroom (cf. Jn 7:37-38). These are the descendants of Saint John the Beloved, those to whom the Father has given the eagle’s vision, those who are little enough and poor enough to be borne aloft and carried away into the “love of things invisible,� as the Christmas Preface puts it.

BLESSING OF WINE ON THE FEAST OF SAINT JOHN, APOSTLE AND EVANGELIST

On the Feast of Saint John, Apostle and Evangelist, at the end of the principal Mass, that is, after the last Gospel, the priest, retaining all his vestments except the maniple, in the following manner blesses wine brought by the people in memory and in honor of Saint John, who drank poison without harm:

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

V. The Lord be with you.
R. And with your spirit.

Let us pray.

Be so kind as to bless and consecrate with Your right hand, Lord, this cup of wine, and every drink. Grant that by the merits of Saint John the Apostle and Evangelist, all who believe in You and drink of this cup may be blessed and protected. Blessed John drank poison from the cup, and was in no way harmed. So, too, may all who this day drink from this cup in honor of blessed John, by his merits, be freed from every sickness by poisoning and from any harms whatever. And, when they have offered themselves in both soul and body, may they be freed, too, from every fault, through Christ our Lord.
R. Amen.

Bless, Lord, this beverage which You have made. May it be a healthful refreshment to all who drink of it. And grant by the invocation of Your holy name that whoever tastes of it may, by Your generosity receive health of both soul and body, through Christ our Lord.
R. Amen

And may the blessing of almighty God, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, descend upon this wine which He has made, and upon every drink, and remain always.
R. Amen.

And it is sprinkled with Holy Water. If this blessing is given outside of Mass, the priest performs it in the manner described above, but with surplice and stole.

I like this painting by the Dominican Fra Bartolomeo (1473–1517), a disciple of Savonarola, because it shows our Holy Father Saint Bernard together with Saint John the Evangelist and our Holy Father Saint Benedict. The Virgin Mother is looking at the Bambino Gesù while the Bambino looks at Saint Bernard. An angel holds the open book of the Scriptures before Bernard, but Bernard is not reading the text. His eyes are raised to contemplate the Infant Christ. Bernard has passed from the written word to the Word made flesh. Saint John the Evangelist, pointing to his heart, looks on; he recognizes that Bernard is of his spiritual family. Saint Benedict, full of gravity and peace, remains in the background with his hands crossed over his breast, an expression of humility.

December 27
Saint John, Apostle and Evangelist

1 John 1:1-4
Psalm 97:1-2, 5-6, 11-12
John 20:2-8

A Liturgical Theology of the Trinity

On Christmas Day, our eyes were fixed on the Light, the Word made flesh, the Son eternally begotten of the Father. Yesterday, the feast of Saint Stephen the Protomartyr drew our attention to the Holy Spirit indwelling and overshadowing the Body of Christ. Today, Saint John the Beloved Disciple, venerated in the East as Saint John the Theologian (or John the Divine), draws our hearts to the mystery of the Eternal Father. We have, in these first three days of Christmastide, a liturgical theology of the Trinity.

The Gospel of the Father

The Gospel of Saint John has been called the Gospel of the Father and rightly so, for it is the particular charism of Saint John to lead us through the Word made flesh, and by the Word made flesh, and with the Word made flesh, into the bosom of the Father. The magnificent First Preface of Christmas wonderfully expresses the essential movement of Saint John’s Gospel. “By the mystery of your Word made flesh, a new and radiant light floods our spiritual eyes so that, even as we know God in what is visible, we are ravished (rapiamur) unto the love of things invisible.� This sentence of the Christmas Preface is a distillation of the mystical theology of Saint John. Proceeding from what is revealed, we are drawn into what is concealed. Holding fast to what is shown, we are held in the embrace of what is hidden.

Communion

This is the joy of Saint John. “The eternal life which was with the Father and was made manifest to us — that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you, so that you may have fellowship with us; and our fellowship is with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ� (1 Jn 1:3). The English word fellowship translates here the Greek koinonia and the Latin communio. Saint John is saying, “Our communion is with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ.� Now, communion simply means “union with.� “Our communion is with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ.� But communion is also used in the New Testament to designate the presence and the effect of the Holy Spirit. We have communion — union with — the Father and with the Son by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. This is why Saint John writes in the same epistle, “By this we know that we abide in Him and He in us, because he has given us of His own Spirit� (1 Jn 4:13).

New York Again

Yesterday I returned to the Italian Consulate in New York City to pick up my visa. The magnificent Church of Saint Jean–Baptiste at Lexington and 76th Street is just a short walk from the Consulate. Sister Barbara Ann, A.S.C.J. and I were there for the 12:15 p.m. Mass. I concelebrated with Father Bernard Camiré, S.S.S., and Deacon Richard Russo assisted. The late John Cardinal O'Connor described Saint Jean–Baptiste as "quite possibly the most beautiful church in New York."

Church of Saint Jean–Baptiste

The beauty of Saint Jean's is more than the effect of its architecture and gorgeous appointments. The church has a spiritual beauty that is the radiance of holiness: the effect of nearly a century of daily adoration of the Most Blessed Sacrament exposed. The church is staffed by the Fathers of the Blessed Sacrament, spiritual sons of Saint Peter Julian Eymard.

Saint Peter Julian Eymard (1811–1868)

After Mass there was a prayer to Saint Peter Julian Eymard and the veneration of his relic by the faithful. Last August 2nd, on his liturgical memorial, I preached on this saint who has become for me an intercessor, a model, and a friend.

Saint Peter Julian’s Eucharistic vocation unfolded amidst sufferings of the heart and painful detachments. God called him out of the religious family he loved — the Marist Fathers — to begin a new work, a Cenacle entirely devoted to the Blessed Sacrament. From the beginning this new Eucharistic work comprised priests, consecrated women, and laity. He challenged his little family of adorers to set souls ablaze with Eucharistic fire.

In the Blessed Sacrament Saint Peter Julian Eymard recognized “the treasure hidden in the field� (Mt 13:44) and “the pearl of great price� (Mt 13:46). He gave up all that he had to possess the mystery of the Eucharist and to be possessed by it. Peter Julian Eymard is a saint for the Church today: a Church called to rediscover Eucharistic adoration and to live “from the altar and for the altar�; a Church that will be incomplete so long as so many of the baptized are not receiving the Sacred Body and Precious Blood of Christ; a Church suffering in priests who broken and wounded with no one to care for their souls. Saint Peter Julian, share with us your passion for the Eucharist, that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ!

A New Shoot On An Old Tree

About twenty years after the death of Saint Peter Julian Eymard. one of his disciples, Père Bernard Maréchal, Assistant General of the Congregation, sought to have the Fathers of the Blessed Sacrament adopt the Rule of Saint Benedict so as to become "The Congregation of Cistercian Adorers of the Most Blessed Sacrament." When Maréchal's proposal was refused by the General Chapter of 1887, he left the Blessed Sacrament Fathers to pursue his aspirations.

In 1891 Dom Maréchal founded the Cistercian Adorers of the Blessed Sacrament at Pont–Colbert in France. The Congregation joined perpetual adoration of the Blessed Sacrament to the traditional Benedictine observance. From France it spread to Holland and to North America. Dom Maréchal's Congregation was weakened greatly by the First and Second World Wars. By 1950 its remaining houses had, for various reasons, abandoned their specifically Eucharistic characteristics.

Monasteries of Adoration Today?

Since that time, especially in the wake of Pope John Paul II's Year of the Eucharist, there has been a revival of interest in Dom Maréchal's project. While there are many monasteries of adoration for women — I am thinking of the Tyburn Benedictines and of the Benedictines of Perpetual Adoration — there are very few for men. The Monastery of Santa Cruz in Guadalajara, Mexico, a foundation of Santa Croce in Gerusalemme in Rome, has, in fact, made Eucharistic adoration a defining characteristic of its identity. Will other monasteries of Eucharistic adoration sprout from the ancient Benedictine–Cistercian tree? "He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches" (Ap 2:29).

Some years ago I received the inspiration for these prayers to Saint Joseph. It was at a time of darkness and discouragement for many priests. Saint Joseph is the champion and protector of the weak, the vulnerable, and the poor. He is close to priests in their most intimate struggles, frailities, and fears. Go to Joseph.

Is it not significant that in this painting by Juan Simon Gutiérrez (1643–1718) the heads of the Child Jesus and Saint Joseph are touching? Note that the little Jesus and Saint Joseph together hold the fragile branch of lilies, the sign of chastity, in their hands. In most paintings of the Holy Family the most tender intimacy is between the Virgin Mother and her Child; here it is between Saint Joseph and the Child Jesus. The Virgin Mother understands the bonding that must take place between Saint Joseph and her Child; she holds the mystery of it in her Immaculate Heart.

Prayer to Saint Joseph for Priests

O glorious Saint Joseph,
who, on the word of the angel
speaking to you in the night,
put fear aside to take your Virgin Bride into your home,
show yourself today the advocate and protector of priests.
Protector of the Infant Christ,
defend them against every attack of the enemy,
preserve them from the dangers that surround them
on every side.
Remember Herod's threats against the Child,
the anguish of the flight into Egypt by night,
and the hardships of your exile.
Stand by the accused;
stretch out your hand to those who have fallen;
comfort the fearful;
forsake not the weak;
and visit the lonely.
Let all priests know that in you
God has given them a model
of faith in the night, obedience in adversity,
chastity in tenderness, and hope in uncertainty.
You are the terror of demons
and the healer of those wounded in spiritual combat.
Come to the defence of every priest in need;
overcome evil with good.
Where there are curses, put blessings,
where harm has been done, do good.
Let there be joy for the priests of the Church,
and peace for all under your gracious protection.
Amen.