One of the most beautiful and, at the same time, frustrating things about our lives here on earth is that no one knows when it will end. This is true except for those who decide to take it by themselves for themselves or others. It is beautiful because then one does not have to spend it worrying about it or attempting to run away from it or postpone it. It can also be frustrating for some people who wish to have all the world’s sinful pleasures and repent at the last minute.

The natural end of our lives here on earth is beyond our human knowledge. Jesus Christ makes this fact clearer in today’s Gospel. At the end of the passage, He says: “but of that day or hour, no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.” This is a biblical truth and an indisputable part of our human experience. So the question, probably, should not be about when or how our lives will end but what shall we leave behind? What memories shall be our legacies for our family and loved ones?

Usually, the most pleasant and unforgettable memories we leave behind are with the people we spend the most time with. Mostly our family and loved ones. The memories we leave are our legacies. Sometimes, they are tangible, material things. Other times, they are actions, words, expressions, and smiles that impact others positively. These memories keep us fresh and green in the lives and minds of our loved ones after we LEAVE.

In one of his greatest hits, “I dreamed about mama last night,” the legendary country musician, Hank Williams, narrated some of his finest memories of his late mother. This song may not be one of those making country music the best music genre of all time. But it is one of my best for Hank William’s records. In this song, Hank captured his mother’s impenetrable love for her children and the memories that kept her present in their lives even long after she LEFT.

Hank narrated how his mother never went to bed at night until her children were back home safe, clean, and fed. It is clear from the song that his mother was intentionally present in her children’s lives. She loved and embraced her motherhood vocation – a vocation that our Blessed Mother Mary embraced and lived to the fullest, thereby leaving every mother an example to follow.

Hank William’s dreams of his mother were memories that challenged and encouraged him to live a life of purpose. In the same way, we all should strive to live a life of purpose. Living a life that touches, inspires, uplifts, and encourages others even in the tiniest ways is a life of purpose. Such a life keeps one from concerns about the day or the hour.

Feast Day: November 15^th 

The venerable philosopher was perplexed.  As a certain fall afternoon in the late 1240s slipped by, the desk room littered with scrolls of all kinds was a good image of his cluttered mind.  The great mind had tackled scientific inquiries into genetics and astronomy and chemistry … last month his project was calculating the size and speed of the heavenly spheres, though today his astrolabe was gathering dust rather than measuring the angles of rays of light.

More recently, he had been captivated by the question of whether Plato or Aristotle had come up with a better concept of universals.  He had grinned as that philosophical jargon had spiraled around in his head: it was actually a mongrel dog running along the streets of Paris that got him thinking on it.  Every child in the city could tell you what a dog was: four legs, one tail, plenty of teeth, and usually a bark worse than their bite.  But no such generic dog actually existed: different colors, coats, faces, temperaments, and yes, this one only had 3 legs it turned out, but was undoubtedly a dog… we can conceptualize a “universal” dog, the generic form of a canine but did that form exist above and beyond this world, as Plato thought?  Or, was it a concept in his own mind, marvelously instantiated in every one of the critters that trotted past his window?  

But today he wasn’t thinking about stars, or spaniels, he was considering the students who had sat before him in class earlier that day.  Now a young man, Thomas of Aquino, continued to shine amongst his classmates.  The ox whose voice would shake the world, as Albert had wryly nicknamed the husky youngster a few years prior, would soon travel with him to Cologne Germany where they would study and teach there together.  But his thoughts weren’t on the students individually, but universally: how, and what, is a human being?  

Plato’s voice was at first the loudest: “The soul is most like that which is divine, immortal, intelligible, uniform, indissoluable, and ever self-consistent and invariable, whereas body is most like that which is human, mortal, multiform, unintelligible, dissoluable, and never self-consistent.”  Ok, so the eternal ‘side’ of ourselves, the perfect, permanent, most-real, depths of who we are – is the soul – destined to be released from the mortal shell that is our body.  

Plato was onto something here, and yet, the greatest philosopher who ever lived, who had also given his life as had Plato’s Socrates, had once said “in the beginning it was not so”, pointing us eternally back to the moment when God had chosen to create man, and smiled as He “saw that it was very good”.  Man, soul and body, Jesus had remined us, was very good.  What would Plato make of that?  That God, perfect, invariable, divine, would choose to create man, not a soul imprisoned in flesh, but a soul incarnate in flesh, and then, when the time had come, to become man Himself, and show man the fullness of his spiritual freedom and dignity?!  What a God we have?!  What a dignity we have?!

Augustine’s poetry next enkindled Albert’s pondering heart: “You called and shouted: and broke through my deafness. You flamed and shone: and banished my blindness. You breathed your fragrance on me: and I drew in my breath and I pant for you. I have tasted you: and now I hunger and thirst for more. You have touched me: and I have burned for your peace.”  If we all yearn for God, thirsting for His fire and peace, doesn’t that mean that our souls, just like our bodies, are incomplete here below?  This jived with a new philosopher he and Thomas were just now investigating: an ancient Greek thinker named Aristotle.  His works had been lost in Europe for centuries, but now, by God’s mysterious providence, had made their way onto his desk – before most anybody else on the continent – through copies received from the Islamic scholar, Avicenna, far east of the Holy Land.  Weren’t all these musings a bit like the Aristotelian idea of the soul functioning as the form, the ordering-principle, of the body: body and soul both destined for ever-greater perfection and freedom and integrity as both were perfected together?  

He glanced out the window, and then it struck him.  Well, both the slanting rays of the setting sun and a glimpse of the answer he sought: light strikes our eyes – from a planet, or a puppy, or a person – and imparts to us data about various objects.  That data our mind, it is true, abstracts in order to articulate the general form of whatever it is we are looking at.  But, there is a form beyond that thing, not quite like Plato thought: more accurately, there is a mind beyond our mind, that has illuminated us.  A Word that has been spoken, a Truth that has been given.  We only come to the higher, beyond-this-world, knowledge because we have been given a participation in the Mind beyond-this-world, Who designed all the intelligible things we see and study … and that Intelligence also dwells within us!  Plato was right: at our heart we are beyond this world, but Aristotle also had something correct: our body and soul together image the God Who has delighted to make us intelligent like He is.  

– Fr. Rankin loves Autumn.  The trees turn gold, speeding his gratitude.  The weather turns cold, speeding his runs.  The year turns old, speeding us towards Christmas.

For the past few weeks, during our weekday masses, we have been hearing from St. Paul’s Letter to the Romans.  This might be one of my favorite letters composed by St. Paul as it offers so many wonderful points that are central to our faith as Christians.  One passage in particular is often in my mind as I reflect on the life to which we are called as we follow the path of the Gospel:

I consider that the sufferings of this present time are as nothing compared with the glory to be revealed for us. For creation awaits with eager expectation the revelation of the children of God; for creation was made subject to futility, not of its own accord but because of the one who subjected it, in hope that creation itself would be set free from slavery to corruption and share in the glorious freedom of the children of God.

(Rom 8:18–21)

St. Paul speaks about the “glorious freedom of the children of God” that awaits us in Heaven, for there, we shall be freed from the slavery of sin which always threatens us in this life as a result of the sin of our first parents, Adam and Eve.  But thanks to Jesus Christ, this freedom is not an altogether future experience for which we hope.  It is something that has become possible already here in this life.  As St Paul writes in his letter to the Galatians: “For freedom Christ set us free; so stand firm and do not submit again to the yoke of slavery.” (Gal 5:1)  Here he is speaking of a current reality available to us, one that is possible by our own choosing as we reject sin and choose to follow the path of truth and life made available to us through the Gospel way of life.

As we continue our Family of Faith formation with Section Three of the Catechism – Life in Christ, our focus this month is the freedom that comes from following this way of life proposed by Christ and His Church.  Part of living this freedom is knowing the choices that will lead us to freedom and avoiding those things which deprive us of it.  We will therefore consider the formation of our conscience as a part of this month, an indispensable part of our training to live this gift of the freedom.  As I mentioned a couple of months ago, the moral life in Christ is made possible for us through the graces of the sacraments, especially Penance and the Eucharist.  To the extent that we make these two sacraments a regular part of our lives, we will experience greater freedom in this life, not because of any ability of our own, but because of God’s strength which lives in us through the sacraments.  If we think that we can survive the challenges of this life without these sacraments, we are in for a bumpy road, and the Lord has some stern words we would do well to heed: “Without me, you can do nothing.” (John 15:5)  But if we stay close to Christ in the sacraments and follow His teachings, we will realize what St. Paul himself came to believe by following this path: “I can do all things in Him who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:13)

Let us therefore be convinced that submitting ourselves to the yoke of Christ through the sacraments, and obeying His teachings and those of the Church, we lose nothing at all.  Instead, we gain the great gift of the freedom of the children of God, already available to us in this life, and fully in the life of Heaven.

Father Alford     

This week, November 7 – 13, 2021, the Catholic Church in the United States celebrates National Vocations Awareness Week (NVAW), otherwise known as vocations week. This celebration started in the 1970s but has been observed at various times of the year since its inception. However, in 2014, it was moved “permanently” to the first full week of November every year.

During the vocations week, Catholics are encouraged to appreciate and promote vocations to the priesthood, diaconate, and consecrated life in some special ways. We can do this by talking to family and friends about these vocations and encouraging them to discern them. One can also celebrate this vocations week by praying for and or requesting Masses to increase these vocations. Sending financial supports to the office of vocations is another excellent way to celebrate the vocations awareness week.

We can also celebrate this vocations week by supporting men and women in these vocations individually in whatever means available to us. This is mainly those who are still undergoing formations in religious houses and seminaries. In a particular way, encouraging young men and women to discern these vocations and supporting them in the process is a work of LOVE and of CHARITY.

In our diocese, we are fairly doing well with some of these vocations. The ordination of nine priests, two transitional deacons, and six permanent deacons, all for our diocese since last year, is one evidence of this. However, there is no doubt that there has been a continuous decline in these vocations in most parts of the world over many decades. There are so many factors responsible for this decline. They are so many to mention and should not distract us from increasing efforts to appreciate, encourage, and support these vocations more intentionally.

Our failure to appreciate, encourage, and support these vocations is a work of the devil. Men and women in these vocations dedicate their lives to the service of the Church. And Satan does not like the Church. He uses every opportunity available to him to fight the Church. When we hear about all kinds of scandals involving priests and bishops, it is the devil fighting the Church. When pro-abortionists receive the Eucharist, it is the devil fighting the Church. When we ignore the evils that others suffer and keep quiet over all kinds of injustices around us simply because we are not directly affected, it is the devil fighting the Church. When people in lifestyles that contradict the message of the Gospel argue that they are staunch and holy Catholics, it is the devil fighting the Church.

These fights against the Church usually result in the decline of vocations to the priesthood and consecrated life. How? Because the greatest beauty of these vocations is the holiness they radiate, the love they permeate, and the faith they preach by their very existence and presence. When these satanic attacks of the Church are going on, the beauty of the vocations becomes both invisible and less attractive.

As we celebrate this Vocations Awareness Week 2021, let us pray for and support our brothers and sisters in the priesthood, diaconate, and consecrated life. Let us also find ways to encourage and support our young men and women to discern these vocations.

Feast Day: November 13^th 

This month our parish will continue to engage the third part of the catechism, on our moral life following Christ, but specifically wrestling with the overlapping topics of our freedom, discernment, conscience, and choice – to get to the heart of the matter: we’re delving into our ability to do what is good, but propensity to do what is not good.  As Bishop Paprocki said when he first came to our diocese, the only thing standing between us and a fervent, fruitful, faithful practice of our faith is sin and the great task of living a moral life is rooting out sin and living according to God and relying upon His grace.  

I think we’ve all heard that sort of thing before though!  How do we take the next step?  Well, this week we are given two specific aids in that journey: firstly, this first week of November, the Church every year celebrates “Vocation Awareness Week” inviting all of us to approach anew the specific call God has offered to each of us.  Plus, this year these days include the feast we celebrate on November 13^th of St. Frances Xavier Cabrini.  Famously the first American citizen to be canonized, her story offers a tremendous example to all of us someone seeking to follow God’s call, that is, to place our freedom in the Lord’s hands and discover that we are more free, and more good, and more happy, in doing so.

For Frances, born in Italy in 1850, the first seeds of her vocation were planted at home after Agustino, her father, had finished planting seeds on their family farm.  He would tell the stories of the Church’s missionaries to his children, firing their imagination with the tales of St. Paul and St. Boniface and St. Francis Xavier.  Little Frances would make paper boats as she played behind her home, sending them down the nearby canal hoping they would make there way to India or China as “missionaries”, carrying – in lieu of the Gospel – violet petals she had collected from the nearby flowers.  Jesus continued to mold her heart for the work He had in mind for her during her years studying at a school ran by the Daughters of the Sacred Heart.  Earning good grades all the way through, when she was old enough it was to this order that she applied, desiring to spread the faith as one of their sisters.  She was rejected.

How easy it would have been for the young woman to give up on God’s plan at that point, or to think He had something else in mind?!  Always, there will be uncertainty and setbacks on the road of following Jesus, and always our temptation will be to choose the easier route, the less painful one, the one that doesn’t require failure and risk and trial and trust, but Frances knew she was called and created to be a missionary: her heart was set alight by the idea, and God doesn’t plant dreams in us to watch them wither.  Still, it would be a path of pain that Frances walked in the years that followed.  She lost both her parents at the age of 20, worked as a substitute teacher for a time, applied again to the sisters (and was again turned down), and then found herself heading up an orphanage at the recommendation of a local priest only to have it abruptly closed several years later.

Dead end for God’s designs?  Never!  It was at that orphanage, far from home, having lost her parents, and rejected as a religious sister, that Frances was inspired to begin a religious order of her own.  They started there in Cadogno, Italy, with several young women joining the fledgling institute, and – now “Mother” – Cabrini showing her still-strong desire to head East by taking as patrons St. Francis de Sales and St. Francis Xavier (Cabrini took his name into her own for her religious name).  

But God had different plans.  Meeting with Pope Leo XIII, he was supportive of her order, and desire to teach, but redirected her zeal “not to the East, but to the West.”  Italians by the millions were settling in New York, Chicago, and elsewhere around the USA and South America.  They needed to be sustained in their faith (and in the practical hardships they would meet here!), and that task was the one entrusted to the small group of sisters who had stumbled into teaching behind Mother Cabrini. 

I am out of space already before relating the dozens of schools, hospitals, and other institutions this indefatigable sister would found across our country, or the hardships and rejections and setbacks she would find here too, but we have already learned a great lesson from her. The Lord’s call is not evident based on the comfort we find in our lives – often times we are quite uncomfortable in doing His will.  Rather, His will is found in constant turning again and again to Him: begging that He would show the way through; asking Him to reveal why He has placed this or that on our heart; discovering the responsibilities, and abilities, that He has already entrusted to us, and learning to live in the freedom of knowing that He has our back, but has also entrusted us with a “talent” of our own which He delights in us learning to carry with Him watching on.

– Fr. Rankin rides his bike over to the diocesan offices regularly to get a bit of exercise and avoid paying for gas when he doesn’t have to.  The reason he does not have training wheels to this day is because his dad taught him long ago that sometimes you have to wobble along for a bit to figure out how to balance, and our Heavenly Father often loves  us in a similar way.  Thanks Dad!