When I was in college, I always looked forward to the weekends (as pretty much every college student does).  Since I only worked during the week at the university library, I was free to do a variety of things that I could not do during the rest of the week.  Two things in particular stand out as I think back on those weekends:  1) Since I lived at home with my parents, I would often help my dad with some project around the house or in the yard; 2) On Sundays in the Fall and Winter, there was always a Green Bay Packers game to watch.  At that point in my life, unfortunately, I was not practicing my faith regularly, so I am sad to admit that I failed in observing the Third Commandment to keep the Lord’s Day holy.

Now that I am a priest, I obviously practice my faith every day, especially on Sundays.  I can be tempted to try to forget those years when I was lax in observing this commandment, but something stands out as I consider those times now at a distance of many years.  The word that comes to mind when I look back to my time in college is that the weekend was different.  The flow of the days was different, how I spent my time was different, and how I felt was often different.  Several years later, having returned to the regular practice of the faith, I tried to be very intentional about making Sunday different from every other day.  I was still tempted to let the different of the weekend extend over the two days of Saturday and Sunday, but as I thought and prayed about it, I knew that was not what the Lord was asking from me with this commandment.  Although it fell during the weekend, I knew Sunday needed to be different from Saturday, and that different needed to focus much more intentionally on the Lord, not myself.

This is the fundamental outlook that we need to start with when it comes to our observance of this commandment to keep Sunday holy.  The Lord’s Day is about Him and we are invited to be particularly intentional about keeping our attention on Him and strengthening our relationship with Him.  First and foremost, this means going to Mass.  At the Last Supper, He instituted the celebration of the Eucharist, telling His Apostles to do this in memory of Him until He comes again in glory.  This is a necessity when it comes to keeping the Lord’s Day holy.  But what about the rest of the day?  How are you making it different?  Perhaps you can make a list of things that need to get done, things like chores, errands, homework, etc.  and really focus on getting them accomplished apart from Sunday.  There is nothing sacred about grocery shopping on Sunday, so why not pick another day?  I personally do my very best to avoid going to any store or restaurant on Sundays, reinforcing my intention to keep Sunday as different as possible.  I recently heard a priest share that he does not look at his e-mail after Saturday afternoon until Monday morning to protect his keeping the Lord’s Day holy.  That would be hard for me, but perhaps I need to give it a shot!  You can also make a list of things that unite you more closely with the Lord that you can choose for Sunday, such as extra time with the Scriptures, watching a religious movie, reading a spiritual book, or praying the Rosary.  Since the Lord is a communion of persons, you can work on being more intentional about attending to the relationships with which God has blessed you, such as connecting with family and friends in person or via a phone call.  Personally, I find Sunday to be a good day to call my parents.

Let me therefore invite you this week to consider how you can make the Lord’s Day different than every other day of the week, obviously prioritizing going to Mass over everything else.  Then, chose the activities that will most promote deepening your relationship with the Lord and those whom you love.  And since God rested on the Sabbath, Sunday can be a good day to take a nice nap!

Father Alford     

This past week on Tuesday, our daily readings addressed the question of the Sabbath and what role in plays in the life of faith. The passage that we read is Mark 2:23-28. The Gospels depict Jesus and his disciples walking through a field of grain (maybe wheat or barley) on a Saturday, the Jewish Sabbath. As they walked, they picked some of the grain from the stalks, and I assume that they ate it too. The Pharisees criticized Jesus and said that what his disciples were doing was unlawful. They were referring to the Third Commandment in which God commanded his people to keep holy the Lord’s Day. The Lord’s Day was a day of rest, but the question was how far that rest should extend. Some like the Pharisees took a very strict interpretation, and these people criticized Jesus for picking grain or even offering healing on the Sabbath. 

This Gospel scene is a good one for us to focus on as we discuss the role of the Lord’s Day in our life as Christians. In response to the criticisms of the Pharisees, Jesus called them to reflect on the meaning of the Lord’s Day and why it exists in the first place. Profoundly and succinctly, he said, “The sabbath was made for man, not man for the sabbath.” As Jesus often does, he calls us to think about how God made things “from the beginning.” This was his strategy when it came to teaching on marriage, as he points us to Genesis for the true meaning of marriage. In the same way, we can look to Genesis for the meaning of the Sabbath. 

The creation story in Genesis says that on the seventh day, God rested. The number seven is always significant in scripture, symbolizing completion or harmony. Seven is also the number of a covenant. To make a covenant official, the word used in Hebrew is similar to the number seven (so I’m told). So, giving the seventh day of each week to God was a sign of their covenant with him. This covenant was renewed every Sabbath by prayer and rest. 

The Sabbath was made for man. The Jewish people, and later the Church, have always recognized the importance of keeping holy the Lord’s Day. With the beginning of the New Covenant, the covenant day has been transferred from Saturday to Sunday. This is to honor the resurrection of Jesus, and in keeping with the traditions of the earliest Christians. The primary way that Catholics can keep the Lord’s Day holy is by attending Mass. To voluntarily not attend Mass is a way of breaking the covenant that we have with God. We need to go to Mass each Sunday (or Saturday evening) to renew that covenant relationship and be sustained with the Body and Blood of Jesus. For those in our parish who cannot attend Mass because of being homebound or quarantined, it is good to watch Mass if possible (although not required), or at least set some time apart during the day to pray with the Sunday readings. 

However, attending Mass is not the only way that we should keep Sunday holy. The Lord’s Day should still be a day of rest for us as Christians. This does not necessarily mean physically resting (although that is good too), but it is primarily a sort of spiritual rest. The day should be marked and set apart from the other six days in the week by some family prayer time or visits to the homebound. Sunday is a good day to study a spiritual book or renew connections with family and friends. Keeping Sunday as a day of rest is a reminder to us that we are made for more than work. In heaven, there will be no more work to do, and we will be able to enter into the rest that is eternal with our heavenly Father. The Sabbath was made for man, because we need rest and renewal in God’s merciful love. 

Feast Day: January 27^th 

Sometimes the Lord’s call comes amidst a constellation of positive elements – talents, affinities, capacities, charisms – that come together in one particular person.  Think of the boldness combined with theological acumen of St. Paul, or the fervor and energy and love for the Gospel of St. Ignatius Loyola, or the patient and merciful character of Mother Teresa.  This is not simply “following your heart”, for we all know how far our instincts and character can carry us far from the Lord and living out of His love, yet at the same time, God’s call often does fit with some of our own inclinations and proclivities.  

Other times, our vocation, our call, grows from a place of pain and loss.  Here still, God does not call us to something that is disingenuous from who we are, but He can often surprise and transform us by His graces of conversion, conviction, or consolation.  Notice that this fits as well with the examples above: St. Paul – who’s life was turned upside down on the way to Damascus; St. Ignatius Loyola, who was moved to turn aside from the glorious life of the battlefield; and St. Mother Teresa, who lost much in leaving her family and religious community to serve the poorest of the poor.

This second means seems to be the one that we see especially operative in the life of St. Angela Merici.  Born of Italian farmers in 1474, she lost both her parents by the age of ten, after which she and her older sister Giana we raised by an uncle, but sadly, she lost that older sister a few years later, and by the time Angela was 20, she also lost her uncle.  Of course, we only have a sketch of her story – we don’t know the waves of grief and struggles with responsibility that may have swept over this young woman – and yet by this time in her life she had already grown to a deep level of intimacy with the Lord.  From Him she received the consolation that her sister had entered heaven (she died without receiving the Last Rites, and so had no chance to prepare to meet her Judge) as well as the first urgings to devote her life to the Lord, choosing to become a third-order Franciscan.  

She was a beautiful young lady and worked hard to dislodge from her heart any of the many temptations towards vanity that were offered to her.  She felt no call towards the contemplative life and ended moving back to her hometown where her brothers still worked the land.  How did she feel walking through her childhood home again?  Did the weight of those losses crash down on her anew?   What was happening in her heart as she contemplated her future?  We fruitfully ask these questions because they are the same questions that we confront in our own lives sometimes. 

Perhaps she could not see the Lord at work right then, but we can because it was there, back home, that she came to know many young girls poor, stuck without education, not knowing Jesus, and she began to invite them into that home, to care, and teach, and love them.  And it was there, over the years to come, that other women joined her in that mission of helping to raise and restore those hurting girls.  They dedicated themselves to prayer and penance and charity in their homes, and entrusted themselves to the patroness of St. Ursula.  Eventually Angela would more formally establish the group with a rule, working towards becoming a religious order, the Ursuline Nuns, in the decades to come.  Her mission stemmed from her own early suffering: “disorder in society is the result of disorder in the family”, she would say.  The Ursulines would be the first nuns to set foot in our country in 1719, and came to our diocese in 1857 at the request of Bp. Juncker, where they would establish multiple different schools and educate many thousands of young-people over a century and a half.  

– Fr. Dominic Rankin visited the Holy Land during Christmas break 2015-2016. It was moving to see all the actual places where so much of the Bible happened.  St. Angela Merici also was able to go on pilgrimage to the land of Jesus (in 1524).  She did not get to see any of it though because she was struck with a fluke episode of blindness during the entire trip (being spontaneously healed on her journey back).  Like so much of her life, she astonishingly took it as another cross to carry with Jesus, and came back with greater faith and love than when she left.