Throughout Lent, we have been proposing reflection questions for you to consider while watching the episodes of Presence on the FORMED online platform.  For the final episode, the question we were invited to reflect on was: “How does Mary’s life show us how to approach the Eucharist in a biblical way?”

This question is especially timely given the fact that the Church just celebrated the Solemnity of the Annunciation this past Saturday, March 25.  Although we may not initially connect this mystery of the life of Jesus with the Eucharist, it is indeed very Eucharistic.  As we know, human life begins at conception, and so when Jesus was conceived in the womb of Mary at the Annunciation, the Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us. (Jn 1:14)  This is what happens at every celebration of the Eucharist, the Word becomes flesh and dwells among us in the form of bread and wine, though in reality, truly as the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Jesus.

As I reflect on this scene from the Gospel where Mary welcomes the Savior into her womb, what strikes is what we hear in the next passage: “In those days Mary arose and went with haste into the hill country, to a city of Judah, and she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth.” (Lk 1:39–40)  With Christ in her womb, the love from the One who is love urges her to go in haste to serve her cousin Elizabeth who had conceived a child in her old age.  Learning of this joyful news, Mary went right away to share the love of God.

One of the options for the dismissal at the end of Mass is: “Go in peace, glorifying the Lord by your life.”  The first word is key: Go!  Having received the love of God in our body and soul in the Eucharist, we are sent out, and we should imitate Mary and go in haste to live the graces the Lord has blessed us with in His coming to dwell in us.  Like Mary, we should be eager to glorify the Lord by our lives, in both word and action.  Mary’s going in haste demonstrates this action, and she glorifies the Lord in her song of praise after she arrives at her cousin’s, saying those beautiful words: “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my savior.” (Lk 1:46–47)

These two incidents of the Annunciation and the Visitation show how Mary’s example invites us to live a Eucharistic life.  The Eucharist is far more than just coming to Mass to receive Him, only to forget about Him the rest of the week.  Coming to Mass is how we are fed and renewed with the love of God which cannot help but overflow in how we live the rest of the week, letting ourselves be instruments of His love in the daily details of our lives.  Everything that we do can be an opportunity for us to give glory to God by the way we live our lives.  And Mary teaches us how to do this.  This is why I often, when praying in thanksgiving after Mass, ask Mary’s intercession for me that the graces I have received may not be wasted, but shared generously with those whom the Lord will place in my path that day.

As a reminder, we have a weekly reflection question to keep in mind as you watch the next episode of Presence.  It can be found on the bottom right corner of this page.

Every week I try to tell the story of God’s grace alive in one particular person: how He made another ordinary, sometimes struggling, sometimes hurting, person into a saint.

This week I am going to try and tell the story of God’s grace around one particular event, basically one week here in our diocese where God, again and again, consistently, continuously provided as only He can. How He is at work right now to make you, and I, and so many others into saints.

It was a rainy afternoon in mid-March and had been a day filled just enough that I hadn’t had time to tackle any of the little tasks that tend to fall through the cracks, yet wasn’t so packed that I was worn and weary from the day’s events. We’ve all been there: the kind of day where you’re just barely getting by on your own steam. It’s not quite long or arduous enough that you are absolutely forced to turn to God, but not exactly “easy and light”. About 8 of us were having a final meeting to put the finishing touches on our plans for the March for Life that would happen about 10 days later. (Notice that all-important descriptor: our plan…) Little did I know as they asked me to open the meeting in prayer, how much we were going to be leaning on God going forward. (And how He was going to abundantly show that this was His plan.)

Turns out, our ballpark expectation of a maximum of 1200 people had been obliterated over the prior few days. We had 1700 people registered just for the Mass before the March (and 2500 at least for the Rally and March itself). Instead of one bishop and 8 priests, we had 6 bishops and 40 priests. Rather than using only the main floor of the auditorium, we were going to need every seat in there, and I was going to need to figure out how to distribute Holy Communion through every cranny of loge level. Of course, we rejoiced at the prospect of a biblical multitude, but at the same time I think every person on the team was taken-aback by the magnitude of the project we were now attempting to pull off. I cannot speak for all the other hurdles faced to pull everything off, but I would like to share a few that I got to see for myself, and the astonishing ways that God moved mountains all the way through.

Hurdle #1: We didn’t have an altar or ambo. Well, we had a little wooden one, but I already knew it would be dwarfed in the Sangamon Auditorium, and now I doubted it would even be of sufficient size to hold all the corporals, patens, chalices, and missal that we would need for the Mass (not to mention spreading 6 bishops behind it). I thought another member of the team had been in touch with the Archdiocese of St. Louis about borrowing the altar and ambo that they had which Pope St. John Paul II had used during his visit there, but no one had reached out, and I didn’t even have a contact for the person I would need to talk to. My heart whipped back and forth between frustration and discouragement and confidence and hope. Of course God would provide … but everything was falling apart. What are we going to do??!! … but it’ll all work out. I emailed someone at the Cathedral Basilica in St. Louis but knew I needed things to move faster than that, so I texted a priest I know down there and paused and said a prayer that God would open the doors that He wanted us to go down… And the priest called back within one minute, tracked down the business manager at their Cathedral for me, found out that the altar was available, and had him emailing me the details within another minute.

Hurdle #2: To borrow the altar and ambo, you have to have it moved by a honest-to-goodness moving company, and it has to be covered by $100,000 of insurance. Did I mentioned we don’t have a budget for this? The choice to move the March for Life down here to Springfield happened just a handful of months ago. Hence the skeleton crew. Hence the month-out contract with Sangamon auditorium. Hence me not having an Altar. And now I needed a moving company with a heap of insurance, this week, and willing to do it out of the goodness of their heart. God was going to ask for trust again, and I needed Him to move a few more mountains.

– Fr. Dominic Rankin will tell the rest of the tale, don’t worry. For now – spoiler alert, he survived the March for Life – but he needs some sleep before attempting any more storytelling.

Since 2006, I have been blessed to live and work in locations where I have never been more than 100 yards from Jesus present in the tabernacle.  In several places, I have not even needed to leave the building to gain access to the tabernacle.  This thought came to me as I was watching Episode 3 of Presence on FORMED.  A few of the speakers spoke about how, when faced with some challenge or question, they would go to the nearby adoration chapel or church to make a visit to Jesus in the Eucharist, speaking to Him and begging for His guidance.  Hearing that reminds me of how privileged I have been to do likewise on so many occasions over the past nearly 17 years.  But I am also aware of how many missed opportunities there have been, how I have taken for granted how close and available Jesus was to me, and yet I just went about my day without stopping in from time to time to visit Him, if for no other reason than to just tell Him that I love Him and to thank Him for His love for me.

During this time of Eucharistic Revival taking place throughout our country and in our diocese, there are many things that we can do to deepen our love for this gift of the Eucharist which the Church rightly calls the “source and summit” of our lives as Catholics.  I would like to suggest that one such practice is making regular visits to Jesus in the Eucharist.  That can be in an adoration chapel, like we have here in town at Blessed Sacrament Church.  If you ever find yourself at one of our two hospitals in town, both have a chapel that is accessible to visitors and where Jesus is present in the tabernacle.  Of course, most of our churches are open during the day for people to stop in and make a visit to Our Lord.  Here at the Cathedral, our doors are unlocked one hour before the morning Mass through shortly after the conclusion of the final Mass of the day.

While making your visit, you can talk to Him about anything!  Share the joys and struggles of the day with Him.  Ask for guidance to the questions that you have.  Give thanks to Him for His goodness and the blessings He has shared with you that day, blessings both known and unknown.  As I wrote above, you can just tell Him that you love Him and thank Him for His love for you.  And I highly encourage you to conclude your visit by making an  act of spiritual communion.  Here are the words I use, but you are free to use whatever works:

I wish, my Lord, to receive you with the purity, humility, and devotion with which your most holy Mother received you, with the spirit and fervor of the saints.

Since you have seemed to enjoy receiving Lenten challenges from me in the past, perhaps for the second half of Lent, I issue the challenge to make a visit to Jesus at least a couple of times a we, outside of your normal coming to the church for Mass.  If you can do every day, great!  But even if you do just once a couple of times a week, it will be more than you were likely doing, and I have great confidence that this practice will very much help strengthen your love for the Eucharist.  St. Alphonsus Liguori wrote that the time spent in visiting the Blessed Sacrament “will be the most profitable to you in this life, and the source of your greatest consolation in death and in eternity.”

As a reminder, we have a weekly reflection question to keep in mind as you watch the next episode of Presence.  It can be found on the bottom right corner of this page.

Feast Day: March 19th| Spouse of Mary, Foster Father of Christ, Prince and Patron of the Universal Church | Imagery: Holding Christ child, Lily (for purity), Blooming Staff (from miraculous engagement to Mary), Carpenter’s Square, often wearing Brown (carpenter garb) and Green (indicating fecundity)

All of us know St. Joseph. We celebrate him on multiple feasts each year, and spend much of Advent with him and Our Lady as they prepare (with us) to receive the gift of the Christ child. This year we approach him through the lens of the Eucharistic Prayers. Well, that is a rather impersonal way to put it … let us choose today to come to St. Joseph and ask him to teach us about our Eucharistic Lord.

And we find an odd thing: He points to his wife. In each Eucharistic prayer, St. Joseph is invoked only in his relationship with Mary, as “Blessed Joseph, her spouse.”  Mary, similarly, is only mentioned and reverenced in relation to her son – “the glorious ever-Virgin Mary, Mother of our God and Lord, Jesus Christ” (EP1) or “Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God” (EP2, 3, & 4). There is something important to grasp here! Even these greatest saints of the Church, given the highest veneration among the choirs of heaven are only honored within their union with Christ! (Recall, we give Mary hyperdulia [highest-veneration], but only as the mother of God, and Joseph protodulia [first-veneration among the other saints], but only as the spouse of Mary). Here’s the key truth: No one becomes a saint without Christ, without becoming a member of His Body (though, as Lumen Gentium mercifullyreminds us, sometimes that union is in ways known only to God).

But isn’t it a better thing to be Jesus’ virginal father, His foster father, than Mary’s spouse?! St. Bernadine of Siena preached of the sublimity of St. Joseph’s vocation as Mary’s spouse, but then makes the obvious point that his even more exalted vocation was to be Jesus’ earthly father, to stand in the place – as a human being – of God the Father! Of course, one becomes a father after first being a husband (both of those vocations themselves flowing from first being a brother, and before all else, a son), so in some ways Joseph’s being a spouse is the prerequisite for his being a father. (Notice that this was the case for Mary as well!  She was asked to bear God’s son after she had already been betrothed, truly entering a preliminary marriage, to St. Joseph). 

But I think there is something more important that St. Joseph is teaching us here: Vocations don’t vanish; nothing cancels God’s call. If God has made you His son, and called you to be His son, nothing will ever steal that identity from you. Not sin, not suffering, not centuries. If God has made you a brother, and called you to be a brother, that relationship never expires. If God has made you a husband, and called you to be a husband, nothing can break or sunder that reality. Not infidelity, not illness, not even death. If God has made you a father, and called you to be a father, as long as you are united to Him, you remain a father like He is Our Father.

Now, earthly “vocations” (with a lower-case “v”): jobs, occupations, hobbies, activities … these things come and go. They are not grounded in God and so they do not last into eternity. But, those parts of our identity that are grounded in Christ remain and endure even unto heavenly life. Consider St. Joseph. He is called “Guardian of Virgins”, “Protector of the Universal Church”, “Terror of Demons” … titles that only apply to him if he is still, in heaven, the spouse of Mary, made mother of the Church on calvary. Yes, “in the resurrection, they neither marry, nor are given in marriage” [Matthew 22:30], but marriage can no more be dissolved in heaven than it can here on earth. Sacraments and vocations will no longer be fundamental in heaven, not because they are abolished but because they are fulfilled. (So is my priesthood!) In-betweens aren’t necessary once we live in God, yet all those ways that we were here called into likeness with the Heavenly Father – all those specific ways we were incorporated into Christ – will remain as glorious and perfected characteristics that somehow mark our glorified bodies and souls in heaven!

In other words, Christ must be the nourishment for our vocations now, for nothing else will sustain them in Heaven. 

– Fr. Dominic Rankin was in seminary when Pope Benedict decided to add St. Joseph’s name to the 2^nd, 3^rd, and 4^th Eucharistic Prayers on May 1^st 2013 (feast of St. Joseph the Worker). Wait, Pope Francis was Pope by then, how did Pope Benedict make the addition?! This was a document, and decision, made by both Pope Benedict XVI and Pope Francis.  Similar to Pope Francis’ first encyclical, Lumen Fidei, the decree which added St. Joseph’s name officially to those Eucharistic Prayers, “Paternas Vices”, was also written first by Pope Benedict, but left up to his successor to edit and officially promulgate! (Fr. Dominic was not in seminary in 1973 when Pope St. John XXIII added St. Joseph to the 1^st Eucharistic Prayer, but our Bishop Thomas John Paprocki was in seminary in that auspicious year!)

As a priest, the very high point of every day is the celebration of the Mass, and the high point of each Mass is when I am privileged to pray the words of Jesus at the Consecration.  There are two words in particular, used in both the words of consecration of the Body and for the Blood, that often catch my attention.  They are the words “for you.”

In the consecration of the Body of Christ, we hear the words of Jesus giving us Himself as food, His Body “which will be given up for you.”  Then, with the words of consecration for the Blood of Christ, Jesus speaks of the Blood “which will be poured out for you.”  For you.  For me.  The Eucharist is a gift Jesus has instituted not just for those gathered with Him at the Last Supper, it is a gift that He meant to be shared with you and me every time we come to Mass.  Through the power of the Holy Spirit, we are present with the Lord and His Apostles the night before He was to suffer for our sins, and we are given the opportunity to receive the gift of His very being – Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity.

I was reminded of this powerful moment in the Mass as I watched Episode 2 of Presence on FORMED.  As the video spoke about the Last Supper and Institution of the Eucharist as being the New Passover, there is a point made about how the Jewish people understood the yearly celebration of the Passover.  They would recall that it was not just their ancestors who were brought out of slavery in Egypt, but that it was them who were also freed in that Passover event.  Their celebration of the Passover was not just a remembrance of something past, but a sharing in the effects of that moment even in the present day.  So when we hear those words “for you”, we should hear them in the same way, not as a remembrance of something in the past, but something that is truly present, every bit as applicable to us as it was to His Apostles.

This is the type of awareness that we are invited to have at each Mass as we hear Jesus speaking His words of offering to us, for us.  Just the thought of that as I write this fills me with gratitude and joy, and all the more excited for the next time I get to celebrate Mass and say those words once again!

This awareness of the gift the Lord offers for you and for me in each Mass should extend to how we view Lent.  We recall Jesus’s Passion and Death during this season, and it can be easy to see it as something that happened 2000 years ago.  But as we reflect on His suffering, on the love His shows for His people, He is inviting us to understand: “I have done this for you.”  Jesus underwent His Passion and died on the Cross for you, for your sins.  When we truly grasp this very personal nature of what Jesus has done for us, how can we not be moved?  How can we simply go to Mass and passively listen without being reminded of the immense love the Lord has for you and for me?

The next time you are at Mass, pay close attention to the words of consecration, and receive those words Jesus meant for you to hear in a personal and powerful way, that the gift He is offering of Himself, shared with us in the Eucharist, has been done for you.

As a reminder, we have a weekly reflection question to keep in mind as you watch the next episode of Presence.  It can be found on the bottom right corner of this page.

Father Alford     

I hope that all of us have experienced the Stations of the Cross at some point during our formation as Christian disciples. The Stations are a prayerful way to share in Christ’s walk to Calvary, from his sentencing to death by Pontius Pilate until he is laid in the tomb. A common hymn to accompany the praying of the Stations is called the “Stabat Mater,” or in English, “At the Cross her Station Keeping.” This hymn has been associated with Mary as Mother of Dolors (sorrows) since the 13^th century. It imagines how Mary must have felt during her Son’s suffering and death. Jesus suffered the utmost physical pain while he died for our sins, but Mary suffered the utmost emotional pain as she witnessed her Son experience this. 

Many of us have been asked by God to suffer with Jesus physically. Some people seem to never be able to escape physical suffering or illness, and in a mysterious way, Christ’s cross can be present through these illnesses. However, a suffering that can be more deeply felt is emotional suffering. Some people suffer not from their own physical pain, but from witnessing people around them making bad choices or suffering from their own illness. Both of these sufferings can be a share in the cross of Jesus, if we respond with faith and ask Jesus for healing and to carry our cross with us.  It is significant that Mary stood at the foot of the cross. I recently noticed in the Cathedral’s stations of the cross that Mary is depicted as standing by the cross, looking up at Jesus. Other characters in common depictions of the crucifixion scene often show Mary Magdalene lying on the ground or leaning against the cross, overcome with grief. However, even though Mary suffered immensely because of her great love for her Son, she also had a great hope – even the hope that he would rise from the dead. This same faith is what allowed Abraham to be willing to sacrifice his son Isaac in Genesis. And this hope seems to give Mary the confidence to stand by her Son as he died for our sins. I invite you to join us at the Cathedral at 5:45 for the Stations of the Cross on Fridays during Lent. The time of prayer is simple yet profound, as we reflect more deeply during this Lenten season on our need for a Savior. Here are a few verses of the beautiful hymn Stabat Mater for your consideration. 

At the cross her station keeping,
Stood the mournful Mother weeping,
Close to Jesus to the last.

Through her heart, his sorrow sharing,
All his bitter anguish bearing,
Now at length the sword has passed.

O how sad and sore distressed,
Was that Mother highly blest
Of the sole begotten One!

Christ above in torment hangs,
She beneath beholds the pangs
Of her dying, glorious Son.

Is there one who would not weep,
Whelmed in miseries so deep,
Christ’s dear Mother to behold?

Can the human heart refrain
From partaking in her pain,
In that Mother’s pain untold?

Bruised, derided, cursed, defiled,
She beheld her tender Child,
All with bloody scourges rent.

Part II

Our praying of the Stations of the Cross is meant to unite our hearts  more deeply to the love that Jesus had for each one of us as he walked to Calvary. Mary is the one who embodies this closeness to Jesus, because while she did not physically die like Jesus, she was united to him in his suffering and death. I love the scene in The Passion of the Christ in which Jesus meets Mary while he carries his cross. In the chaos, Mary had somehow found a way to greet and comfort her son. In this depiction, Mary simply says, “Son,” to Jesus, and he replies, “See, Mother, I make all things new.” This quote is taken from Jesus in the book of Revelation, and I think it is artistically appropriate to place these words on his lips as he meets his mother. 

The fourth station of the Cross is when Jesus met his Blessed Mother. The following is from a meditation that St. John Paul II wrote on the fourth station: “Mary meets her son along the way of the Cross. His cross becomes her cross, his humiliation is her humiliation, the public scorn is on her shoulders. This is the way of the world. This is how it must seem to the people around, and this is how her heart reacts: “A sword will pierce your soul.” The words spoken when Jesus was 40 days old are now coming true. They are reaching complete fulfilment. Although the pain is proper to her, striking deep into her maternal heart, the full truth of this suffering can be expressed only in terms of shared suffering – ‘com-passion.’ That word is part of the mystery; it expresses unity with the suffering of the Son.”

Here are some more verses of the Stabat Mater for your prayer. Last week, I included the first part of the hymn.

O, thou Mother, fount of love,
touch my spirit from above,
make my heart with thine accord.

Make me feel as thou has felt;
make my soul to glow and melt
with the love of Christ our Lord.

Holy Mother, pierce me through;
in my heart each wound renew
of my Saviour crucified.

Let met share with thee his pain,
who for all my sins was slain,
who for me in torments died.

Let me mingle tears with thee,
mourning Him Who mourned for me,
all the days that I may live.

By the cross with thee to stay,
there with thee to weep and pray,
this I ask of thee to give.

Feast Day: March 18th| Bishop, Confessor, Father and Doctor of the Church| Imagery: Hand raised in Teaching and Blessing, Three Fingers together for the Trinity, Two for the Two Natures of Christ; Holding Book of Gospels or Scroll of His Preaching; Wearing Vestments and Pallium St. Cyril may have been a heretic.

His life encompasses the most intense arguments throughout the Church about the Arian heresy, with many claiming that Christ was not fully God. Heresy is always popular, for it usually involves making the demands of the faith a bit easier and more comfortable. Now, Cyril was exiled from his see multiple times by the most stringent of those heretics. (The emperor Valens, who found political power by allying with the heresy, was happy to get him out of his hair). BUT, for the ways that he gained back his episcopacy, sliding towards a middle ground that wasn’t quite heresy, but wasn’t quite the truth of the faith, he was asked at the Ecumenical Council of Constance (in 381) to formally accept the homoousion (the “consubstantiality” of Christ with the Father.) Praise God that this shepherd of the Church had the humility to allow his own life and heart and conscience to be formed by the truth of Christ there articulated by the Church! 

St. Cyril may have been a heretic, BUT he repented, and so is a Father and Doctor and Saint of the Church!

This week, we join his catechumens as he preaches to them for the final time after their entrance into the Church at Easter. Throughout Lent, he had personally taught them the foundational truths of the faith in 18 instructions: 1. An exhortation. 2. On sin, and confidence in God’s pardon. 3. On baptism, how water, by the power of the Holy Spirit, sanctifies and seals the soul. 4. An abridged account of the Faith. 5. On the nature of faith. 6. On the monarchy of God (and the various heresies which deny it). 7. On the Father. 8. His omnipotence. 9. The Creator. 10. On the Lord Jesus Christ. 11. His Eternal Sonship. 12. His virgin birth. 13. His Passion. 14. His Resurrection & Ascension. 15. His second coming. 16-17. On the Holy Ghost. 18. On the resurrection of the body and the Catholic Church. Only once the catechumens had understood and accepted all of this, did Bp. Cyril – after their baptism – welcome them to their period of “mystagogy”, letting God carry them into the heart of the “mysteries” of the faith. In five more sessions, he explained: 1. The renunciations of Satan which preceded baptism. 2. The effects of baptism. 3. Confirmation. 4. Holy Communion. 5. The Holy Mass for the living and the dead. 

I think we could all use the reminder that he goes through all those many other truths of the faith before getting to the Blessed Sacrament! It is the source and summit of our faith; not a sacrament we should take lightly, for it presupposes our acceptance and understanding of everything else! Here’s a few words from that final of his mystagogical conferences; you can read the rest by following the QR code!: 

“the Priest cries aloud, Lift up your hearts.  For truly ought we in that most awful hour to have our heart on high with God, and not below, thinking of earth and earthly things. In effect therefore the Priest bids all in that hour to dismiss all cares of this life, or household anxieties, and to have their heart in heaven with the merciful God. Then ye answer, We lift them up unto the Lord: assenting to it, by your avowal. But let no one come here, who could say with his mouth, We lift up our hearts unto the Lord, but in his thoughts have his mind concerned with the cares of this life. At all times, rather, God should be in our memory but if this is impossible by reason of human infirmity, in that hour above all this should be our earnest endeavour.” [Cyril of Jerusalem, “Catechetical Lecture”, Number 23, Paragraph 4]

– Fr. Dominic Rankin has to mention another emperor who went on the attack against the faith, and the faithful bishop. Julian, who had apostatized from the Christian faith, tried to disprove Christ’s prophecy of the destruction of the Temple [Luke 21:6:] by rebuilding the Jerusalem Temple while Cyril was bishop there. (Cyril, it would seem, took Exodus 14:14 to heart: “The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.”) Ammianus Marcellinus, a contemporary, pro-Julian, secular historian reports what happened next: “though this Alypius [Julian’s delegated architect] pushed the work on with vigor, aided by the governor of the province, terrifying balls of flame kept bursting forth near the foundations of the temple, and made the place inaccessible to the workmen, some of whom were burned to death; and since in this way the element persistently repelled them, the enterprise halted.” [Ammianus Marcellinus, “Roman Antiquities”, XXIII.1.] St. Gregory of Nazianzus reports the same: “they began to debate about rebuilding the Temple, and in large number and with great zeal set about the work. … when they were forcing their way and struggling about the entrance a flame issued forth from the sacred place [church] and stopped them, and some it burnt up and consumed so that a fate befell them similar to the disaster of the people of Sodom, or to the miracle about Nadab and Abiud, who offered incense and perished so strangely…” [St. Gregory Nazianzen, “Oration 5: Second Invective Against Julian.” #4] 

In the first chapter of the Gospel according to St. John, we hear the account of the two disciples of St. John the Baptist who begin to follow Jesus.  Jesus turns to them and asks the question: “What do you seek?” (John 1:38) Another translation reads: “What are you looking for?”  It was this question of Jesus that arose in my heart as I watched the first episode of the Presence study on FORMED that we are doing as a parish this Lent.  It is a question that the Lord invites us to consider especially when it comes to our going to Mass.  

If you pause to consider that question for yourself, what is it that you seek when you come to Mass?  For some of us, we desire to hear a good homily.  We want to be fed by the Word of God and an explanation of it that helps us to see how it applies to our lives.  Others come to Mass to seek the peace their hearts long for, especially as they face the challenges and sufferings of everyday life.  Others seek reverence where the prayers and music of the Mass raise us to the heights of Heaven, where we journey each time we go to Mass.  Other seek the joy of being with others to worship God, finding in the Mass a family gathered together, giving some hope and light to a life that is otherwise lonely and empty feeling.

As a priest who celebrates Mass every day, I have noticed a shift in what I seek when I celebrate Mass.  As a younger priest, I was much more focused on trying to get the homily just right, such that it would encourage, inspire, and challenge the congregation.  If I felt a homily was a little flat or off the mark, I would let it discourage me, as though I had somehow let the people down.  But as I matured a little, I began to realize how I was drawn to something deeper than preaching when celebrating Mass.  I found that I sought to enter more into the mystery of the Mass, the praying of the Eucharistic Prayer, and the remarkable gift of being chosen by God to bring Christ present on the altar in the Eucharist.  With that primary focus, I was able not to get so caught up in the quality of the preaching, but I could rejoice in the gift of the Eucharist, Jesus coming to be among us, and becoming our food.

With all of that said, I am not saying I do not take preaching seriously, but I understand better how it must be at the service of preparing our hearts to more fully embrace the gift of the Eucharist at each Mass, for this gift will surpass even the greatest homily ever preached.  We have many options for places to go to Mass, and we are often drawn to those places or those priests which resonate with our preferences, but we must never forget that the greatest gift is always the Eucharist, God with us, sharing His very life with us.  When that is our primary focus, even if we did not like the homily, even if we did not like the music, or whatever thing we may have found lacking (and believe me, we are good at finding things that are lacking with Mass), one thing is NEVER lacking at any Mass, and that is the fact that God becomes present and feed us, His children, with His very being, body, blood, soul, and divinity.  When we can grasp this and make this the one thing above all others that we seek at Mass, we will never walk away from Mass being disappointed.  For even if all of those other elements of our experience at Mass disappoint us, God giving Himself to us will never disappoint us.  

If you have not watched Episode 1 of Presence yet, please do so, and go ahead and watch Episode 2, taking special note of the weekly question on the bottom right of this page.

Father Alford     

I hope that all of us have experienced the Stations of the Cross at some point during our formation as Christian disciples. The Stations are a prayerful way to share in Christ’s walk to Calvary, from his sentencing to death by Pontius Pilate until he is laid in the tomb. A common hymn to accompany the praying of the Stations is called the “Stabat Mater,” or in English, “At the Cross her Station Keeping.” This hymn has been associated with Mary as Mother of Dolors (sorrows) since the 13^th century. It imagines how Mary must have felt during her Son’s suffering and death. Jesus suffered the utmost physical pain while he died for our sins, but Mary suffered the utmost emotional pain as she witnessed her Son experience this. 

Many of us have been asked by God to suffer with Jesus physically. Some people seem to never be able to escape physical suffering or illness, and in a mysterious way, Christ’s cross can be present through these illnesses. However, a suffering that can be more deeply felt is emotional suffering. Some people suffer not from their own physical pain, but from witnessing people around them making bad choices or suffering from their own illness. Both of these sufferings can be a share in the cross of Jesus, if we respond with faith and ask Jesus for healing and to carry our cross with us.  It is significant that Mary stood at the foot of the cross. I recently noticed in the Cathedral’s stations of the cross that Mary is depicted as standing by the cross, looking up at Jesus. Other characters in common depictions of the crucifixion scene often show Mary Magdalene lying on the ground or leaning against the cross, overcome with grief. However, even though Mary suffered immensely because of her great love for her Son, she also had a great hope – even the hope that he would rise from the dead. This same faith is what allowed Abraham to be willing to sacrifice his son Isaac in Genesis. And this hope seems to give Mary the confidence to stand by her Son as he died for our sins. I invite you to join us at the Cathedral at 5:45 for the Stations of the Cross on Fridays during Lent. The time of prayer is simple yet profound, as we reflect more deeply during this Lenten season on our need for a Savior. Here are a few verses of the beautiful hymn Stabat Mater for your consideration. 

Feast Day: March 7th| Mother and Martyr | Patronage: Mothers, Expectant Mothers, Mothers who have lost Sons, Ranchers, Butchers, Carthage, Widows | Attributes: Women standing side by side; Holding Palm of Victory, Cross of Martyrdom; Praying and Singing, Embracing and Giving Kiss of Peace; Attacked by Wild Cow; Halo’s Intertwined; Felicity Pregnant, Dressed as a Servant

We continued to recall St. Perpetua’s Passion, now reading from the final paragraphs added after their martyrdom by a person who, though anonymous here, may have been as famous an early-Christian character as Tertullian.

As for Felicity, the Lord’s favor touched her in this way. She was now in her eighth month (for she was pregnant when she was arrested). As the day of the games drew near, she was in agony, fearing that her pregnancy would spare her (since it was not permitted to punish pregnant women in public), and that she would pour forth her holy and innocent blood afterwards, along with common criminals. But also her fellow martyrs were deeply saddened that they might leave behind so good a friend, their companion, to travel alone on the road to their shared hope. And so, two days before the games, they joined together in one united supplication, groaning, and poured forth their prayer to the Lord. Immediately after their prayer her labor pains came upon her. And when—because of the natural difficulty associated with an eighth-month delivery—she suffered in her labor, one of the assistant jailers said to her: “If you are suffering so much now, what will you do when you are thrown to the beasts which you scorned when you refused to sacrifice?” And she replied: “Now I alone suffer what I am suffering, but then there will be another inside me, who will suffer for me, because I am going to suffer for him.” And she gave birth to a baby girl, whom a certain sister brought up as her own daughter. [Passion of Perpetua and Felicity, XV,Translation by Thomas J. Heffernan, 2012].

I make note, first of all, that Roman Law – even when entirely comfortable with hurling young men and women, naked, to be torn by beasts as public entertainment, and, when still casting a blind-eye towards fathers who would expose until death unwanted infant children – still held that a pregnant woman could not be executed because of the innocence and individual-dignity of the child in her womb. Yet though much could be said on the inconsistency of Roman Law as regards human life and dignity (not to mention the laws of our own country), I choose instead to dwell again on one important word here used for the first time in Christian literature: “fellow-martyrs” (conmartyres). 

Notice that Felicity has also chosen to hold her Christian identity as even more important than her motherhood. She, with all the longings and hopes of a pregnant mother, still yearns for the grace of martyrdom even more. Yet her and Perpetua’s desire is not simply to die for Christ, but to die together for Christ. So many words in these their final moments depict their union: “fellow martyrs … so good a friend, their companion, … shared hope … joined together in one united supplication … a certain sister.” Remarkably, these two saints who died on March 7^th have trumped no less a saint than St. Thomas Aquinas, who also died on March 7^th (we celebrate him instead on his earthly birthday, January 28^th). The Angelic Theologian tells us of the splendor of Christian Friendship: “thus there is a twofold grace: one whereby man himself is united to God, and this is called sanctifying grace; the other is that whereby one man cooperates with another in leading him to God, and this gift is called gratuitous grace.” [Summa Theologicae, I.II, 111.1.Respondeo].  BUT, it is Perpetua and Felicity who show us the splendor of Christian friendship, emboldening each other all the way to their final self-gift!

But they are not only a twosome enduring the arena: “Now I alone suffer what I am suffering, but then there will be another inside me, who will suffer for me, because I am going to suffer for him.” It seems that St. Paul’s words have transfigured these women’s courageous hearts: “If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.” [1 Cor 13:1-3] These women speak eloquently; they understand the scriptures and have received baptism and faith; they have converted the hearts of their intransient jailers and have even given up their bodies and every human relationship … but all of this would be vain without love, without Christ within them. Truly, at the end, these two were joined by Christ in their final sufferings. “Then [Perpetua] got up; and when she saw Felicity crushed to the ground, she went over to her, gave her hand and helped her up. And the two stood side by side.” [XX] 

– Fr. Dominic Rankin cannot help but remind all of us these women, though recently baptized, had not yet received Holy Communion. They were imprisoned for the entirety of their Christian lives, and can only describe their yearning for Christ’s self-gift as food. Perpetua recounts for us a dream she had while in prison: “And I saw an enormous garden and a white-haired man sitting in the middle of it dressed in shepherd’s clothes, a big man, milking sheep. And standing around were many thousands dressed in white. And he raised his head, looked at me, and said: ‘You are welcome here, child.’ And he called me, and from the cheese that he had milked he gave me as it were a mouthful. And I received it in my cupped hands and ate it. And all those standing around said: ‘Amen.’ And I woke up at the sound of their voice, still eating some unknown sweet. And at once I told this to my brother. And we knew we would suffer, and we ceased to have any hope in this world” [IV].