For this week’s invocation from the Litany of the Sacred Heart, I have chosen to jump almost to the very end of the litany.  The invocation for our reflection is as follows:

Heart of Jesus, hope of those who die in You, have mercy on us

There is a very particular reason I chose this invitation.  You see, as I am sitting down to write this article, it is a Saturday afternoon, and earlier today, I celebrated a funeral Mass for an infant from our parish who died just under twelve hours after being born.  The death was expected, as the parents were aware of the diagnosis for several months leading up to the birth.  Though that does not take away the sadness of the situation, it at least helped with having some time to process what would likely happen.

There are various words that could have been used to describe the atmosphere as we gathered for the funeral, words such as “heart-breaking”, “sorrowful”, “tragic”, “unfortunate”, just to name a few.  But the word that I kept coming back to was quite different.  That word was “hope.”  Perhaps my spending an entire year writing on the topic of hope last year had me predisposed to this theme, but I think it was more than that.  The reason that hope rose above every other feeling was because of something that took place after the infant was born, but before it died.  The infant was baptized and confirmed, and in doing so, was made an adopted child of God through Jesus Christ and given the promise of inheriting eternal life.  The prayers for the Funeral Mass for a Baptized Infant express this hope in such a beautiful way, and the Church is never more certain about the salvation of a soul than with an infant who dies shortly after being baptized.  The opening Collect reads (with the key phrase in bold):

Most compassionate God,
who in the counsels of your wisdom
have called this little child to yourself
on the very threshold of life,
listen kindly to our prayers
and grant that one day we may inherit eternal life with him (her),
whom, by the grace of Baptism, you have adopted as your own child
and who we believe is dwelling even now in your Kingdom.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God, for ever and ever.

The sting of such a sad loss is certainly lessened by this beautiful belief that this infant is at rest in Heaven.  It also provides a helpful reminder to all of us who are still on our pilgrimage of life, that we too have good reason to hope that because of our baptism, if we die in the Lord, we also believe that we will rise though Him to eternal life. In his Letter to the Romans, St. Paul reminds us: “We know that Christ, raised from the dead, dies no more; death no longer has power over Him” (Rom 6:9), and when we die in the Lord, neither does death have power over us.

Is there ever really an “ordinary” year in the Church’s life? Maybe, but this year isn’t one of them! About a month ago, the Jubilee year of Hope ended with the conclusion of 2025, and here in the Cathedral the Bishop celebrated a closing ceremony at the 10:00 AM Mass, after which the Jubilee cross was removed from the sanctuary and the opportunity to receive the Jubilee indulgence in the Cathedral ended. 

Right on the heels of this “end,” however, the Holy Father, pope Leo XIV announced a “beginning,” not another Jubilee year, but a specially dedicated year nonetheless. The year 2026 will be celebrated in honor of the eight-hundred year anniversary of the passing of St. Francis from this earthly life to his eternal life. Here are some of the words of the Vatican office which announced the special year:

“His Holiness Pope Leo XIV, Minister of our faith and our joy, establishes that, from 10 January 2026, coinciding with the closing of the Ordinary Jubilee, until 10 January 2027, a special Year of Saint Francis shall be proclaimed, in which every faithful Christian, following the example of the Saint of Assisi, shall become a model of holiness of life and a constant witness of peace.”

The Holy Father grants also, in a similar fashion to the Jubilee year, plentiful opportunities for indulgences. I’ve modified this text a bit to make it more readable, but it is taken directly from the document announcing the Year of St. Francis: 

“the Apostolic Penitentiary … grants a plenary indulgence under the usual conditions (sacramental confession, Eucharistic communion and prayer according to the intentions of the Holy Father), also applicable in the form of suffrage for the souls in Purgatory:

[to all] who, with a heart detached from sin, participate in the Year of Saint Francis by 

1. Visiting, in the form of a pilgrimage, any Franciscan conventual church or place of worship anywhere in the world dedicated to Saint Francis or connected to him for any reason, and there:
2. Devoutly follow the Jubilee rites or spend at least a reasonable period of time in pious meditation and raise prayers to God so that, following the example of Saint Francis, feelings of Christian charity towards their neighbours and authentic vows of harmony and peace among peoples may spring forth in their hearts, 
3. Concluding with the Our Father, the Creed and invocations to the Blessed Virgin Mary, Saint Francis of Assisi, Saint Clare and all the Saints of the Franciscan Family.

As far as I can tell, the closest Franciscan Church to us here in Springfield is at Corpus Christi Priory near Riverton. This year is a perfect opportunity to visit this beautiful Church to pray for the intercession of St. Francis and to obtain a plenary indulgence.  This year is going to be a year of a great outpouring of grace upon the Church through the intercession of the great St. Francis of Assisi. He is one of my favorite saints and I am excited to celebrate this year. Part of my celebration will be to begin writing a series of articles here considering the life of St. Francis, his example, and his encouragement for the Church to grow in holiness. May God bless us all through his prayers! Amen.

In the Sunday readings during Ordinary Time, we find that the first reading from the Old Testament and the Gospel are usually linked by a common theme.  The Second Reading, however, is not necessarily so, but rather offers selections of continuous readings of other books of the New Testament, usually from the writings of St. Paul.  As we are at the beginning of the Year A readings, we have been hearing from St. Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians.  In today’s reading, St. Paul highlights the paradox of how God chooses the weak to shame the strong:

God chose the foolish of the world to shame the wise,
and God chose the weak of the world to shame the strong,
and God chose the lowly and despised of the world,
those who count for nothing,
to reduce to nothing those who are something,
so that no human being might boast before God. (1 Cor 1:27-29)

Such is the case with Jesus when He came into the world in the Incarnation.  To those who were expecting a great and powerful leader who would defeat Israel’s enemies, they were disappointed as they encounter Jesus who is “meek and humble of heart.” (Mt 11:29) Jesus seems to be weak and lowly, but St. Paul writes in his letter just before our reading for today: 

For Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom,
but we proclaim Christ crucified,
a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles,
but to those who are called, Jews and Greeks alike,
Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. (1 Cor 1:22-24)

As mentioned above, the Gospel for today’s Mass is not intended to be explicitly connected to the Second Reading, but we can see how well-connected they are, for indeed all of Scripture is related, though not always explicitly.  The Gospel for today, the Beatitudes, follows this theme treated by St. Paul.  The Catechism of the Catholic Church describes the Beatitude in this way:

they are the paradoxical promises that sustain hope in the midst of tribulations; they proclaim the blessings and rewards already secured, however dimly, for Christ’s disciples; (CCC 1717)

The Beatitudes, very much contrary to the wisdom of the world, are one of the most important and succinct expressions of wisdom that Jesus preaches in the Gospel.  Both the paradoxical examples of His life and His teaching make the following invocation of the Litany of the Sacred Heart a fitting choice for this Sunday’s readings:

Heart of Jesus, in whom are all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge,
have mercy on us

Perhaps you’ve had the experience of finding a book that you’ve really loved because it draws your heart up into a certain depth of joy and excitement while you’re reading it. I’ve experienced that with some writings of saints like St. Charles de Foucauld, St. Therese of Lisieux, St. Bonaventure, St. Augustine, and some books of the bible like Revelation. I’ve also found it to be the case even sometimes when reading more academic theological articles that seem to “get it” about where the world is at and what could lead us all closer to God. Most recently, I think I felt that powerful heavenly sensation while reading a book called “A Song for Nagasaki” about the Japanese man, Takashi Nagai. His writings quoted in that book, words he wrote after living through the atomic bomb that fell over Nagasaki, were incredibly powerful and at times led me to tears.

This article isn’t about Takashi Nagai, though, but rather about the experience of finding words such as those he wrote. The human mind is an incredible creation of God. He made us able to express reality in words – reality that we can hardly grasp through our senses, and even reality we cannot receive at all through our senses. What is love? What is suffering? What is goodness and truth and beauty? These things can be observed in different ways in the world, but so often they are best discovered in the written or spoken word. We receive our understanding of them through stories and through the beauty of a life retold. 

When we find a book that does this for us – a book that leads us to God in our thoughts – we have found a treasure. These books, articles, poems, or texts, are real gifts that we should hold on to in our memories and read again and again. Truly, it seems the Holy Spirit often uses writings like these and stories like these to lead us into a renewed and deepened relationship with God the Father. 

Finally, I would like to share an imaginative poem about the awe, gratitude, and wonder of coming across the thoughts of a saint in the written word. May the Lord grant us all the grace to find and treasure words that lead us to him. Amen!

Within the wooded regions of this land
I found a small oak cabin, now forlorn
But bathed by amber candlelight … unmanned.
Perplexed, I turned the doorknob, smooth and worn.
Inside, door closed, I lit a larger fire
And by its greater glow saw walls of white.
Walls covered by small papers, once entire,
Held shreds of poems, scattered lines in flight.
These fragments speak of life and wisdom old
What man could know? “…a love from love divine, 
Shines forth in pure desire…” I read and know 
A saint and man of prayer composed this line.
Oh blest mysterious light that drew my heart
To this small saint’s inspir’d celestial art!

In 2019, Pope Francis declared that, beginning in 2020, the Third Sunday of Ordinary Time each year was to be observed as the Sunday of the Word of God.  In instituting this celebration, the Holy Father noted the importance of the Word of God to our identity as Christians:

The relationship between the Risen Lord, the community of believers and sacred Scripture is essential to our identity as Christians. Without the Lord who opens our minds to them, it is impossible to understand the Scriptures in depth. Yet the contrary is equally true: without the Scriptures, the events of the mission of Jesus and of his Church in this world would remain incomprehensible. Hence, Saint Jerome could rightly claim: “Ignorance of the Scriptures is ignorance of Christ” (Commentary on the Book of Isaiah, Prologue: PL 24,17B). (Aperuit illis, 1)

As we continue our reflections on the various aspects of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, we acknowledge that what we can say about His heart has been revealed to us through the written Word of God, which enables us to be united more closely with the Word of God, Jesus Christ, who is the second person of the Holy Trinity.  It is therefore fitting that we focus our reflection this week on the following invocation from the Litany of the Sacred Heart:

Heart of Jesus, substantially united to the Word of God, have mercy on us.

The use of the word substantial is key.  One of the definitions for substantial is to convey that something has a considerable importance, size, or worth.  A person who wins the lottery can be considered to have a substantial amount of money.  But this is not the definition that is being used here.  Rather, substantial in this case coneys that something belongs to the same substance of something, not just its accidents.  Those are philosophical terms, and we understand them best when we speak about the Eucharist.  After the consecration at Mass, the bread and wine undergo a change of substance.  They may look like bread and wine (accidents), but what they really are is the body and blood of Jesus.  The substance of the Eucharist, what it is, is Jesus.  So too with the Sacred Heart of Jesus.  The heart He had as a human being, while being fully human, was also fully divine, so it shares in the very same substance of the heart of the Word of God who has existed from all eternity in a communion of love with the Father and the Holy Spirit.

By extension, the words that Jesus spoke, which are given to us in the Gospels, are not merely human words.  Rather, they come forth from that humanity being substantially united with His divinity.  According to our Trinitatian theology, every action of God involved all three persons of the Trinity, so every word that we encounter in the Scriptures are not mere human words.  Sure, they have been communicated through the instruments of human authors, but God Himself is the source of all.  As such, the Word of God that we encounter when reading and listening to the Scriptures is substantially united to God Himself, so that we believe that when we hear His Word, He is truly speaking to us.  Since the image of the heart connotes the love of God for us, every word that He speaks to us is from that love, and it is in an invitation to receive it with love, so as to be more fully united to the One who is love.

In St. Paul’s letter to the Colossians, we read, “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God” (3:16). This command of St. Paul was directed toward those Christians at Colossae, but is a very timely message for every Christian for all time. It is perennially the task of the Christian to allow the Word of God to penetrate ever more deeply into the recesses of the soul. What this looks like is not some abstract “moving and coming” into the depth of the heart, but rather, a changed and transformed life. 

When the Word of Christ dwells in us richly, our actions take the mold of the life of Jesus and we begin to look like him. Our thoughts, feelings, and desires take on the shape of the thoughts, feelings, and desires of Jesus himself. We begin to want to serve others in the way he wants us to serve others. We begin to act in the way he acts in the world, and in doing so, we truly become what we are meant to be as “members of his body” (Ephesians 5:30). 

This transformation occurs in very concrete ways. When St. Paul calls the Colossians to “let the word of Christ dwell in [them] richly,” he isn’t simply asking them to think about Jesus coming inside of them. He is asking them to allow the life of Christ to be lived over again in them – in their actions, thoughts, and lives – by intentionally changing their lives. 

St. Paul mentions a few of the ways that Christ’s own life can begin to be lived in ours. He mentions “psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs” as one of the ways. Praying and singing the Psalms has always been a fundamental way for Christians to take on the mind of Christ. These are the prayers inspired by the Holy Spirit to lead us into the heart of God. Because of that, the more we repeat the words of the Psalms with our voices and in our minds, the more our minds and bodies take on the mind of God. We could say the same about any part of the scriptures, but for reaching the heart and mind of God, the Psalms and canticles of scripture truly hold the pride of place. The repetition of the Psalms teaches us to think like Jesus. 

St. Paul also mentions teaching and admonishing one another. As we teach our faith, whether to our children, our peers, our elders, or those entrusted to us, we become more attentive to the truths of our faith. As we admonish those who are doing wrong, it actually causes us to be more attentive to our own moral life. Living the moral life is a primary way that we take the Word of God into our lives and hearts. 

Finally, St. Paul counsels the Colossians to let the Word of God dwell in them richly by living in thanksgiving. Gratitude is that attitude of the heart that recognizes that all we have received is a gift, and it becomes a prayer when we recognize that it is a gift from God. This recognition leads us to speak out in prayer, whether out loud or in our hearts, to God himself and thank him. Entering into this relationship with God our Father is a way of joining Jesus in his eternal thanksgiving to the Father for the gift of his very being (an eternal gift in the relations of the Trinity that we share through adoption). 

On this Word of God Sunday, we remember that that Word has come and dwelt among us. He teaches us the way to the Father, and he desires to dwell in us richly. We see that this indwelling is no abstract reality, but a very real and concrete transformation of our lives from a life lived outside of a relationship with the Father to one where we begin to think, feel, desire, and act as the Word of God himself does, as a member of his body on earth. May the Lord strengthen us in our union with him, and may he dwell in us ever more richly. Amen!