Feast Day: August 14^th | Patronage: Families, Prisoners, Amateur Radio Operators, Journalists, Political Prisoners, Pro Life Movement, Recovery from Drug Addiction | Iconography: Gray Beard, Franciscan Habit and Cord, Nazi Concentration Camp Uniform, Holding Crucifix, Rosary or Image of Our Lady, White Crown for Purity, Red Crown for Martyrdom, Palm of Martyrdom, Newsletter of Militia Immacolata.

I turn to a variety of fellow prisoners of the Nazi Concentration Camp of Auschwitz to recount for us the dramatic self-sacrifice of the (up till then an extraordinary evangelist and charismatic) Conventual Franciscan Father, Maximilian Kolbe whom we celebrate this week:

Francis Mleczko, a fellow laborer from Block 14 who had been imprisoned since 1940 and, as a polish government official, often took the brunt of the Gestapo’s wrath, recounted: “We were working digging gravel (to be used in building more Blocks) outside the camp when suddenly, about three in the afternoon, the sirens began to wail and shriek. That was a terrible sign. It meant there had been an escape. At once the German sentries lifted their guns, counted us, and began to keep an extra strict watch. … it even reached the villages outside the fifteen-mile penal zone, warning the police to set up roadblock and watch for the poor fugitive. The thoughts of all of us were not on him, however, but ourselves; for if the escapee was from our Block, we knew ten to twenty of us would die in reprisal. So I prayed, and I imagine everyone else was doing the same: “Oh please don’t let him be from my Block. Let him be from Block 3 or Block 8 but not from 14.” But when we returned to camp, the worst proved true – the missing man was from Block 14.”

A Palatine Brother, Ladislaus Swies (who had been packed into the same boxcar with Fr. Maximilian two months earlier) recalled that night: “After work the whole camp stood at attention until we were dismissed to go to bed. No one got even a bit to eat. But the following morning, after just coffee, we had to go to another hard day’s work – except for Block 14, which had the missing prisoner. They were again put on the parade ground to stand all day in the sun.” Ted Wojtkowski, a 21 year old university student (half of Fr. Kolbe’s age, who would survive Auschwitz and eventually move to Chicago) stood with the other 600 prisoners from Block 14: “We stood at attention in the sun – boiling – from morning until late afternoon, with our only break at noon when we were given our soup ration. Quite a few keeled over and were left lying however they fell.”

Br. Swies stood about 50 feet away as the deputy-commander of Auschwitz, Karl Fritzsch, began to walk along the ten parallel lines of men from Block 14. Wojtkowski is in the very middle of the pack, being of middling height, and desperately hopes that those banished to the death cell will have bene chosen by the time Fritzsch gets to the eighth row. Mleczko is in the fifth row, near the end, and can only pray as the acting commandant strides back and forth, “The fugitive has not been found. In reprisal for your comrade’s escape, ten of you will die by starvation. Next time it will be twenty.” As he saunters down each line, he stares at each man, deciding whether to send him to starvation or not. Mleczko recounts the demonic game: “As he came closer and closer my heart was pounding. “Let him pass me, let him pass me, Oh pass, pass,” I was praying. But no. He stopped directly before me. With his eyes, he examined me from my head to my feet, then back again. A second complete up and down. I saw the [secretary] pose his pencil to write my number. Then, in Polish, Fritsch orders, “Open your mouth.” I open. He looks. He walks on. I breathe again.”

Wojkowski recounts a similar torture: “I am thinking my luck is okay. [Most of the quota had been filled.] Then suddenly he points down the row at me and calls “You!” I freeze in terror and can’t move. Since I don’t put my foot forward, my neighbor decides Fritsch is calling him. Unsure, he puts one foot slight out. “Not you, dummkopf Polish swine,” Fritsch snarls, and points at me again. Then suddenly, in a split second, he changes his mind and, as my neighbor starts to step back, he orders him forward and takes him instead of me.” As the guards check the list of the condemned, Francis Gajowniczek sobs “My wife and my children.” He is ignored by the Nazi’s. He is not ignored by Fr. Maximilian Kolbe.

– Fr. Dominic has loved St. Maximilian Kolbe ever since reading a child’s biography of the saint on multiple family car-rides. The dramatic eyewitnesses that tell his final hours to us this week (and next) are collected in Patricia Treece’s captivating biography, A Man for Others: Maximilian Kolbe, Saint of Auschwitz, in the Words of Those Who Knew Him.

Throughout the Mass, there are various roles that are fulfilled by different members of the assembled congregation.  You will have the ordained clergy who have a specific role in leading the worship, while the rest of the lay faithful fulfill other roles pertinent to the prayerful celebration of the Mass.  As we work our way through these reflections, when something that is unique to me as a priest (or as a member of the clergy), I will provide some thoughts as they can help all of us in better praying at Mass, not just those who perform those specific actions and words.

One of the first things that you might notice is when the priest and deacon enter the sanctuary, we kiss the altar.  Personally, I try to be mindful of having this kiss represent my desire to be as faithful to Christ as possible, whether it is in how I celebrate Mass, or how I live as a priest.  I never want that kiss to be like that of Judas, whose kiss was a sign of betrayal.

Although only ordained ministers kiss the altar, all of us can unite ourselves with the priest and deacon as they reverence the altar as a way of showing our reverence to Christ, asking Him that we, too, might be as faithful to Him as possible, especially through our full, active, and conscious participation in the Mass.

Although at present, nothing is said with this kiss, though historically, there was a prayer associated with the kissing of the altar that went something like this: “We beseech you, O Lord, by the merits of your saints, whose relics are here, and of all the Saints, that you would pardon me all my sins.”  Masses in the early Church were celebrated over the tombs of martyrs and other saints as a sign of our special connection to them in the Mass, and our seeking their intercession for us as we continue our journey which we pray will one day conclude by joining them in Heaven.

Therefore, the kiss is a sign of reverence for the relics that are typically placed in an altar when it is consecrated by a bishop.  Here at the Cathedral, the relics in our main altar are: a Relic of the True Cross, St. Isaac Jogues, St. Maria Goretti, St. Charles Lwanga, St. George, St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, and St. John Vianney (whose feast day was this past Friday).  Even if there were no relics in the altar, as is the case with some newer altars, the kiss is still relevant as the altar represents Christ Himself, though obviously not in the same way as He is present in the Eucharist. 

The presence of these relics reminds us of another important point, that when we are gathered together at Mass, we are united not just with those gathered in the physical church, we are united with all of the Catholics throughout the world, for every celebration of Mass is a re-presentation of the one sacrifice that Christ offered on the Cross.  We are also united with the Church in Heaven, who gather around the throne of the lamb in unending worship.  In fact, right after the opening Sign of the Cross, the priest offers a greeting, such as: “The Lord be with you”, to which all respond: “And with your spirit.”  The General Instruction of the Roman Missal says about this greeting: “By this greeting and the people’s response, the mystery of the Church gathered together is made manifest.” (GIRM, §50) The mystery being expressed is what I just mentioned, that the ENTIRE Church, past, present, future, near, far, on earth, in Purgatory, and in Heaven are all gathered together as we enter into this greatest prayer of the Mass.  

Feast Day: August 10^th | Patronage: Rome, Comedians, Archivists, Librarians, Students, Miners, Tanners, Chefs, Chefs, BBQists, Firefighters, the Poor | Iconography: Wearing Deacon’s Dalmatic, Surrounded by the Poor, Holding or Martyred by Gridiron

St. Ambrose tells us our saint story this week. He recounts the final days of the Deacon Lawrence in a work entitled “On the Duties of the Clergy” – modeled after a famous discourse of the Roman Orator, Cicero, “On Duties” – both of them expositions on morality, on what is honorable, virtuous, and right. Ambrose’s work is the first true synthesis of Christian morality, integrating what was good and true with secular moral systems (like stoicism) with Christian revelation and grace. He makes this plain in his opening lines, “Just as Cicero wrote for the instruction of his son … so I also write to teach you, ,my children. For I love you, who I have begotten in the Gospel”. These are words addressed to his young priests, but certainly not limited to them (Augustine would pass this work onto his flock, and it has been promoted ever since as an enduring summary of what the Christian life calls all of us to.

And let us not pass by St. Lawrence, who, seeing Sixtus his bishop led to martyrdom, began to weep, not at his sufferings but at the fact that he himself was to remain behind. With these words he began to address him: “Where, father, are you going without your son? Where, holy priest, are you hastening without your deacon? Never were you wont to offer sacrifice without an attendant. What are you displeased at in me, my father? Have you found me unworthy? Prove, then, whether you have chosen a fitting servant. To him to whom you have entrusted the consecration of the Saviour’s blood, to whom you have granted fellowship in partaking of the Sacraments, to him do you refuse a part in your death? Beware lest your good judgment be endangered, while your fortitude receives its praise. The rejection of a pupil is the loss of the teacher; or how is it that noble and illustrious men gain the victory in the contests of their scholars rather than in their own? Abraham offered his son, Peter sent Stephen on before him! Father, show forth your courage in your son. Offer me whom you have trained, that you, confident in your choice of me, may reach the crown in worthy company.”

Then Xystus said: “I leave you not, nor forsake you. Greater struggles yet await you. We as old men have to undergo an easier fight; a more glorious triumph over the tyrant awaits you, a young man. Soon shall you come. Cease weeping; after three days you shall follow me. This interval must come between the priest and his levite. It was not for you to conquer under the eye of your master, as though you needed a helper. Why do you seek to share in my death? I leave to you its full inheritance. Why do you need my presence? Let the weak disciples go before their master, let the brave follow him, that they may conquer without him. For they no longer need his guidance. So Elijah left Elisha. To you I entrust the full succession to my own courage.”

Such was their contention, and surely a worthy one, wherein priest and attendant strove as to who should be the first to suffer for the name of Christ. … But here there was nothing to call holy Lawrence to act thus but his love and devotion. However, after three days he was placed upon the gridiron by the tyrant whom he mocked, and was burnt. He said: “The flesh is roasted, turn it and eat.” So by the courage of his mind he overcame the power of fire. [St. Ambrose, De Officiis Ministrorum, Chapter 41, Paragraphs 214-216]

– Fr. Dominic has always found the story of St. Lawrence’s martyrdom to be humorously daunting: How can I have the courage to not only embrace martyrdom, but to fearlessly joke with whoever is torturing me: “turn me over, I’m done on this side…”?? Yet St. Ambrose does not propose Lawrence as an “over the top” example of martyrdom, but an exemplar of authentic Christian discipleship. This deacon was willing to obey his Pope, St. Sixtus II, even above his own desire for martyrdom. We will not be asked at our judgement “did you have the guts to be martyred?”, but “did you obey Christ and His Church?” I cannot choose to be martyred, but every day I have the choice to obey fully and joyfully, and only one of those things will determine whether I enter heaven or not. Do I risk asking God what His plans are for today? When someone walks up in need, do I try to evade the request, or see them as sent by God? Am I content with the vocation and mission given me, or do I look elsewhere for tasks, fulfillment, or success?

I just wanted to give a big “thank you” to our parishioners and community members who helped to welcome the Biking for Babies crew to the Cathedral on July 14 and 15. I got to know B4B two years ago when the Cathedral hosted them for the evening and I was the celebrant at the evening Mass. They were a joyful bunch and gave great witness to their cause of promoting life and pregnancy resource centers. My week of Biking for Babies was an incredible week – physically demanding, but spiritually uplifting. On July 14, I biked around 100 miles from Charleston to the Cathedral. I was so happy to have my teammates and new friends at the parish where I am serving in my fourth year. The guys slept at SHG where I also serve. It was two worlds colliding – B4B and my Springfield life! After Mass, dinner was a joy on Friday evening as several of us shared stories and testimonies about how God has used Biking for Babies in our life. On the morning of July 15^th, I celebrated Mass at 3:30 (yes, in the morning…I was tired) before the teams had breakfast and departed between 4:30 and 5. We had a 130-mile ride to Manchester, MO, so we had to get an early start. Thank you to our generous parishioners who made food, hosted riders, and got up early to feed us and send us on our way. Biking for Babies is changing lives, starting with the missionaries and spreading to the pregnancy resource centers we support. As a group, we have raised over $250k this year and hope to reach $300k soon. Personally, my goal was to raise $5,000. As of the end of July, I have surpassed $12,000. Thank you to those who supported me financially and spiritually! As I said before, please continue to support our local pregnancy centers, First Step and Springfield Right to Life financially. Biking For Babies was founded in response to John Paul II telling young people, “Woe to you if you do not succeed in defending life!” Thank you all for being shining examples of defending life. Let us never lose hope in our proclamation of the Gospel of Life!   

Now that we have reflected on our preparations for Mass, both before arriving at the church and after, we are ready to actually enter the Mass itself.  The Mass is divided into five sections, the first of which is called the Introductory Rites.  The first element of the Introductory Rites listed by the General Instruction of the Roman Missal (GIRM) is The Entrance.  Here is what the document says:

When the people are gathered, and as the Priest enters with the Deacon and ministers, the Entrance Chant begins. Its purpose is to open the celebration, foster the unity of those who have been gathered, introduce their thoughts to the mystery of the liturgical time or festivity, and accompany the procession of the Priest and ministers. (GIRM, §47)

Most parishes choose to use an Entrance Hymn that the congregation can join in singing, though some places will sing a chant.  For our weekday masses, we simply recite the Entrance Antiphon that is designated for that day.

Notice how this beginning of the Mass is described as an opportunity to foster unity and prepare our thoughts for the mystery we are about to celebrate.  Unity is fostered when we all join in the singing of the Entrance Hymn together.  Some, because they don’t like to sing, or claim that they can’t sing, choose to exempt themselves from this part of the Mass, preferring to just stand in silence.  Might I suggest that you at least open the hymnal and follow along with the words, at a very minimum listening to them and uniting your heart with them in prayer?  Doing so helps to foster unity as we all do the same thing.  Plus, paying attention to those words can actually benefit us as the words help to prepare our hearts for what we are about to celebrate.

In this regard, I still have vivid memories of masses that I would celebrate for the Catholic high school where I was a Chaplain several years ago.  I would process in, usually singing, then I would look up during the hymn, only to see the vast majority of the students not singing, not even having their hymnals open.  Furthermore, their facial expressions said: “I do not want to be here.”  On one occasion, I had some of those students saying something about not getting anything out of Mass, and I brought up my observation from the Entrance Hymn.  I said to them, somewhat out of frustration, but with utter sincerity: “If you don’t put anything into Mass, how can you expect to get anything out of Mass?”  To be honest, I do not know how many people actually sing during the Entrance Hymn here at the Cathedral.  I try not to look lest I get frustrated and start Mass in a bad mood!  I say that with a little sarcasm, but not totally.  I do, however, urge us all to consider how it is we participate during the Entrance Procession of the Mass, seeing it for what it is – a time to foster unity among ourselves and prepare to enter into the greatest prayer of the Mass.

Up to this point, I have been providing some reflections and suggestions of how I think about approaching the preparation for and praying of Mass, but I realize I do not possess the definitive answer on these.  Many of you have been preparing for and praying at Mass longer than I’ve been alive!  So, I offer an open invite for you to share with me anything that you have found useful in your experience with preparing for and praying at Mass.  I will be happy to share those as I work through this series.  Just send me an e-mail so that I can remember them.  If you just tell me after Mass, I’m afraid I might forget!

Feast Day: August 7^th | Patronage: Popes, Martyrs | Iconography: Arrayed in Gold Vestments, Wearing Papal Tiara, Holding a Book, Staff, or Processional Crucifix

From a letter of St. Cyprian about the martyrdom of St. Sixtus [Epist. 80: CSEL 3, 839-840]. St. Cyrian would be martyred several months later in the same persecution.

Dear brother, the reason why I could not write to you immediately was that all the clergy were embroiled in the heat of the conflict. They could not possibly leave, all of them having prepared themselves for divine and heavenly glory. But now the messengers have come back, those whom I sent to the City to find out and report the truth of whatever decrees had been made about us – for people have been imagining all sorts of different possibilities. Here, then, is the truth:

Valerian [the Emperor of Rome at this time] sent a rescript to the Senate, saying that bishops, presbyters, and deacons should all receive immediate punishment; that senators, knights, and other men of importance should lose their rank and their property, and if they still persisted in being Christians, they should lose their heads; and that matrons should be deprived of their property and be sent into exile. Members of Caesar’s own household, whether they had confessed their faith before or were only confessing it now, should be deprived of their property, bound in chains, and sent as slaves to his estates.

To this command, Valerian attached a copy of the letters which he had sent to the governors of the various provinces about us; and we daily await the arrival of these letters, bracing ourselves, each according to the strength of his faith, for the suffering that is to be endured, and looking forward to the help and mercy of the Lord and the crown of eternal life.

You should know, however, that Sixtus was martyred in the cemetery on the sixth of August, and four deacons with him [St. Lawrence the famous jokester and deacon would outlive his fellow deacons for four more days, and whom we will get to know next week…] Moreover, the prefects in the City are daily pushing forward this persecution, and anyone who is presented to them is martyred and all his property confiscated by the state.

I beg you to make these things known to the rest of our colleagues, so that through their encouragement the whole brotherhood may be strengthened and made ready for the spiritual conflict – so that each one of us may think less of death and more of immortality – so that everyone, dedicated to the Lord with full faith and total courage, may rejoice in this confession and not fear it, for they know that the soldiers of God and Christ are not destroyed, but crowned.

Dearest brother, always fare well in the Lord.

– Fr. Dominic recently had the chance to visit his sister in the convent and at one funny moment she asked if he were available to do Exposition the following morning at “ten of six”. Unfamiliar with monastery jargon, I puzzled over the turn of phrase for a moment to the humor of my sister, “willing to get up that early??” Of course, 5:50 AM is a bit of an ask when one is trying to rest and relax with family … but I had to surrender my desire for a full night’s sleep and agree to the early start. If a Christian’s life is meant to look like Christ, I should expect crucifixion, and getting up before 6 is nothing like what has been asked of many Christians down through the ages.

When I was growing up, I remember getting to Mass early then kneeling down to pray.  To be honest, I do not recall what I prayed about, but I do recall thinking on more than one occasion as I looked around:  “What are those around me praying about?”  I was wondering if there was a certain script that I was supposed to follow or what I should be praying for.  More often than not, I probably just knelt there in silence for the amount of time that seemed right, then I’d sit down, especially if I saw my mom or my siblings sit after doing their prayers before Mass.

When I entered seminary, I became aware of a series of prayers that the Roman Missal provided for the priest as he was preparing for Mass.  I figured that if I was going to become a priest someday, perhaps those prayers would be helpful to start using as I prepared for Mass.  And in fact, I still use many of those prayers as I get ready to celebrate Mass.

But preparing for Mass should be more than just reciting certain prayers, holy as those prayers may be.  As I encouraged in my last article, as we prepare for Mass, it is an opportunity for us to disengage our spiritual autopilot so that we can fully and consciously enter into this greatest of all prayers.  

In a document written by Pope Benedict XVI on the Eucharist, he offers the following reflection about what our prayers before Mass might look like:

In their consideration of the actuosa participatio of the faithful in the liturgy, the Synod Fathers also discussed the personal conditions required for fruitful participation on the part of individuals. One of these is certainly the spirit of constant conversion which must mark the lives of all the faithful. Active participation in the eucharistic liturgy can hardly be expected if one approaches it superficially, without an examination of his or her life. This inner disposition can be fostered, for example, by recollection and silence for at least a few moments before the beginning of the liturgy, by fasting and, when necessary, by sacramental confession. A heart reconciled to God makes genuine participation possible. (Sacramentum caritatis, 55).

Part of our preparation should therefore include an acknowledgement of our need for conversion, calling to mind where we have strayed, asking that our participation in the Mass will heal the wounds of our sins and strengthen us for a more faithful and fruitful living our lives as disciples.  Although there is more that we can and should pray about before Mass, I think this aspect should never be overlooked.  

This time in silence, opening ourselves to conversion, is necessary for one of the very first parts of the Mass that we encounter, the Penitential Rite.  The priest invites us with the following words: “Brothers and sisters, let us acknowledge our sins, as so prepare ourselves to celebrate the sacred mysteries.”  The brief pause of silence is hardly enough time for us to do an examination of conscience at that point, but if we have spent some time before Mass acknowledging our sins and our need for conversion, this part becomes more than just a formality that we automatically breeze through.

Feast Day: July 25^th | Patronage: Spain, Compostela, Veterinarians, Equestrians, Furriers, Tanners, Pharmacists, Oyster Fishermen, Woodcarvers | Iconography: Carrying Book as author of Letter of St. James, Wearing Red as a martyr, Adorned with pilgrim-hat, staff, or shell as a pilgrim, Riding white horse into battle against the Moors, Clubbed to death in Jerusalem

Throughout Christian history, there has always been an emphasis on the importance of Christians going on pilgrimage to the places associated with Our Lord. We are a fundamentally historical religion, claiming that God set foot on this planet for a definitive period of years, consecrating those roads of the Holy Land, and with them our entire world. From the beginning of the Church, even as it spread out to the edges of human civilization, there was always a draw for Christians to try and make their way to Bethlehem and Jerusalem, seeing for themselves the places where their Lord and God had set foot.

Of course, it has not always been easy to get to Jerusalem, whether that be simply the arduous nature of travel throughout most of human history, or the wars and persecutions that cut Christian nations off from Israel. For this reason another place of pilgrimage, Rome, sort of symbolically because a stand-in for Jerusalem. In Rome the greatest apostles, Peter and Paul had died and were buried in their respective basilicas, but even more importantly it was in that Eternal City there you would find the magnificent basilicas dedicated to Christ’s birth (St. Mary Major), passion (the Basilica of the Holy Cross), and glorious reign (St. John Lateran). 

But what if you couldn’t make it to Rome? Was there a third option? Yes, as it turns out, there was one other great place of pilgrimage for the Christian world: Santiago de Compostela. This is the spot in North-West Spain where the tomb of St. James the Greater was miraculously discovered in 813 AD. Legend tells of his appearing to rally Christian troops beleaguered by invading Moorish armies around this time and the discovery of his tomb near to that event after a holy hermit had a vision of stars and angels surrounding an otherwise nondescript field. Over the ensuing centuries, ever-grander basilicas would be built (and lost) and rebuilt over the site of this tomb, and then early written accounts of pilgrims who made the trip there would slowly spread out across Europe, attracting more and more Christians to make the trek. 

In 2013 about 200,000 people walked at least 100 kilometers along one of the many routes that now culminate at St. James’ basilica, in 2017, 300,000, and in 2022, the number crested 400,000 for the first time. Here’s the deal, Jerusalem, Rome, Compostela are all just stand-ins for the real pilgrimage that we are all on: towards the heavenly Jerusalem and the New Heavens and New Earth where Christ will remain with us forever.  We’re all on pilgrimage whether we go to Compostela or not! The problemhappens when we forget that and start putting too much stock in our lives here. Here’s a few mental-exercises to ask ourselves if we have the right disposition: On pilgrimage, you carry everything you need on your back. What size pile of things do you, or I, consider essential? Do I treasure the simple and silent moments of my life, or just the exciting highlight-reel? On pilgrimage, you befriend and protect otherwise random strangers because you’re together on the journey towards the same destination. Do you or I really care for those that are alongside of us in our journey towards heaven? Do I pray for those that I’m “on mission” with by name? On pilgrimage, the point is not leisure but conversion; not self-actualization but self-transcendence. Do you or I seek more opportunities for holiness, or pleasure? Do I ask God to show me each day where He is giving me the chance to serve, sacrifice, and surrender?

– Fr. Dominic did the Way of St. James during the summer of 2015 with his mom, dad, and brother. You can see us dwarfed by the basilica in the picture below. And yes, we got to see the world’s largest thurible swung by a team of acolytes and suspended from the ceiling of the basilica.  There also was the memorable occasion when, for the only time in my life, I went to Confession in Spanish. 

In my previous two articles, I wrote about the internal and external ways that we prepare for Mass.  Those reflections were intended to focus on what we do for preparation before we actually go to the church itself for Mass.  But when we actually set foot in the church, what should we do just before Mass begins in order to prepare ourselves well for this greatest of all prayers?

The first thing we often encounter when we enter a Catholic church is receptacle that contains Holy Water.  We know the drill – we dip our fingers in and make the Sign of the Cross.  But how conscious are we of why we perform this almost mechanical action?  The purpose of the Holy Water is to remind us of our Baptism, the most important day of our life.  For it was on that day that we became God’s adopted children, able to call upon Him as our Father.  Our Baptism makes it possible for us to be admitted to share in this great prayer of the Mass.  Will we remember this every time we enter church?  Probably not, but nevertheless, perhaps we can challenge ourselves to it at least the next time we go to church.  Start small and let it grow!

The next action we usually take is when we enter our pew.  If our knees can handle it, we usually genuflect toward the tabernacle.  Not that I spend a lot of time watching people genuflect, but I can’t help but see it from time to time.  Some genuflections are very sincere looking, and others are a bit sloppy.  Now, I realize not everybody has good knees, but my guess is that many of us have knees that are capable of doing a full genuflection.  As a reminder, our practice is to genuflect with the right knee, to where it goes all the way to the ground, pausing ever so briefly, and then rising up again.  For the pause while down on the right knee, a good traditional practice is to use the aspiration that St. Thomas the Apostle used when Jesus invited him to put his finger into the nail marks of His risen body after the Resurrection: “My Lord and my God!” (John 20:28)  This is an exclamation of adoration, which is what the action of making a genuflection is all about.  In place of a genuflection, it is just fine to do a profound bow, bending at the waist toward the tabernacle, making the same internal act of adoration.

There is one final action to consider, and that is the Sign of the Cross, something that applies to blessing ourselves with Holy Water, and which is also sometimes done when genuflecting.  We also make it when we kneel down in our pew, and when we begin Mass.  The Sign of the Cross can be sloppy as well if we don’t pay attention to what we are doing.  Try to be very intentional about making those distinct movements without rushing.  Otherwise, it sort of looks like we are swatting flies away!  The Sign of the Cross is a prayer, even if we do not actually say it out loud, and it’s important that we use all of the words: “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.”  Sometimes we cut corners and just say: “Father, Son, Holy Spirit.  Amen.”  Sure, we got all three Persons of the Trinity, but we have truncated it, not explicitly calling to mind we are praying in the name of all three Persons, thus the importance of those beginning words and each ‘and’.

There are three simple gestures that we perform every time we come to Mass.  Our being aware of these actions, and our efforts to be intentional about their significance sets us up well to prepare for Mass.  If we do these actions on autopilot, our brains will just continue with the rest of the Mass in that mode.  Let’s be conscious about disengaging our spiritual autopilot when we walk in and do these three actions so that we can be fully present, fully conscious, and fully active in our participation in the great prayer that is about to follow!

Feast Day: July 20^th | Patronage: Ravenna Italy and Region, Those suffering from Epilepsy or Gout | Iconography: Chasuble for Mass, Pallium as Metropolitan Bishop, with Sheep or Shepherd Staff as a Pastor, Tonsure and White Hair and Beard linking him to St. Peter

The Roman Martyrology gives us a typically terse record of the life and death of the early bishop, St. Apollinaris:

In Ravenna, the natal day of St. Apollinaris, bishop. After the Apostle Peter ordained him in Rome and sent him to Ravenna, he underwent many different tortures. Afterwards, he preached in Emilia and converted many people from the worship of idols. When he returned to Ravenna he suffered a glorious martyrdom under Caesar Vespasian.

Assuming you all wanted more of a story than that, I turn to the Basilica that now houses most of the mortal remains of this early bishop. We travel to the Basilica of St. Apollinae Nuovo in Ravenna, Italy (“Nuovo” to distinguish it from an older basilica that originally held St. Apollinaris’s relics, St. Apollinare in Classe. His relics were removed from that church, over the place of his martyrdom, in 856 AD because pirates kept threatening in raids from the Adriatic coast.) 

What is so cool about the New St. Apollinaris is that it was originally built in 504, and dedicated to Christ the Redeemer, by the Ostrogoth King, Theodoric the Great (as his personal palace chapel… after he had taken over Rome and moved his capital to Ravenna).  Also, Theodoric was an Arian! So, this church would have to be reconsecrated as a Catholic Church, and dedicated to the great foe of Arianism St. Martin of Tours, in 561.  (Only later would it be dedicated to St. Apollinaris once his relics were moved there). This all means that, if we examine the church carefully, we can see indications of its Arian roots. Many overtly Arian (as well as Theodoric’s empirical) imagery has been removed over the centuries but not quite all.  Stretching down the entire length of both sides of the nave (body) of the Church are grand mosaics depicting saints approaching Our Lord. To the left are 22 female virgins stepping towards Our Lady holding the Christ-child surrounded by four angels and approached by three magi (here given the names Balthasar, Melchior, and Gaspar, the earliest time we find those names given to these kings). On the right are 26 male martyrs, approaching Christ the King attended by four angels. 

High above these saints are depictions of the life of Christ as the congregation would have heard during the readings throughout Holy Week, a permanent visual depiction of the most important days of the liturgical year! Also we discover in this Church depictions of the port of Ravenna from those early days, an artistic rendering of Theodoric’s palace, and the fantastically detailed raiment and crown of each of the many saints. (Hit up the QR Code for a video walking you around this Basilica). 

But I want to focus in on that depiction of the mature, reigning, Christ, Who here in Ravenna is bearded. Now, you and I wouldn’t notice such a detail given how typical it is ever since to see our Lord with facial hair.  But, at this time in Roman culture, men were typically clean-shaven (a practice made popular several hundred years earlier by Alexander the Great!) and would only grow out a beard when they were mourning. SO, a bearded Christ was actually a covertly Arian depiction of Jesus because the Arian heresy was the one that rejected Christ’s divinity, something they claimed here by using a beard to emphasize His human maturation, mortality, sufferings, etc. Needless to say, a beard no longer symbolizes an Arian conception of Christ, but when this mosaic was made, it did have that emphasis!

– Fr. Dominic brings you all of these details not just to change things up a bit this week, but to remind all of us that the way we image, speak, or portray Jesus does matter! He became man, wonderfully allowing us to depict Him at all, yet we must be careful not to let our own conceptions of Our Lord ever tug us away from Who our faith tells us He truly is.