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.

Hopefully last week’s article about doing an attitude check with regards to how we see going to Mass was helpful.  Even as somebody who loves to celebrate Mass everyday, I found myself asking the Lord to continue to purify my attitude and renew my heart with a deeper love for the Mass.

As promised last week, my goal for this week’s article is to touch briefly on the external preparations we should undergo as we get ready to encounter the Lord at Mass.  The first thing to consider is the Eucharistic fast.  Here is what the law says concerning this fast: “One who is to receive the Most Holy Eucharist is to abstain from any food or drink, with the exception of water and medicine, for at least the period of one hour before Holy Communion.”

I am surprised at how many people are unaware of this obligation, so it is worth bringing up.  There are a few things to explain here.  There may be a person with a medical condition or advanced age where a fast is not possible.  But in general, one hour before communion (not before the beginning of Mass, but before the reception of Holy Communion) is not that much of a burden.  Notice also that the law says “at least” one hour.  One can choose to make the fast before Holy Communion longer.  The point of fasting before Holy Communion is to increase our hunger and thirst for the Lord, both physically and spiritually.  So although this form or preparation is external, it is also necessarily connected to our internal preparation.

Another form of external preparation that is at the service of our internal preparation is the timeliness of our arrival to Mass.  As I stand in the back of the church before the Entrance Procession, noticing the many empty spaces in the church, I sometimes half-jokingly comment: “The 4:02 pm bus must have not arrived yet.”  By the time I process in, kiss the altar, and look out after the Sign of the Cross, the number of people in the pews has increased significantly!  I get that our lives can be hectic and we often catch ourselves coming and going.  But I hope we can all appreciate how arriving at the last minute makes it hard to transition to a prayerful state.  Why not try to make an effort to leave a little earlier from home so that you can have a few minutes of silence during which you set your distractions aside so as to enter more fully into this great prayer that is the Mass?

Finally, I would like to reflect on our dress as we come to Mass.  As you read this, you might be thinking: “Here we go, Father is going to complain about how we dress!”  I just want for us to consider one point as it applies to our dress.  I have heard people say: “God does not care what I wear to Mass, He’s just happy I am there.”  There is truth in this.  God loves us unconditionally and He does delight when we come to Mass.  But the question is not so much about what God thinks of us, but I would suggest it is more of a reflection on what we think of God and about the importance of the Mass.  We are usually very attentive to dressing nicely if we plan to come to a funeral or a wedding.  We do that out of respect for others, to some extent.  If we can be motivated to step it up as a sign of human respect, how much more should our externals also respect the internal gratitude we have for the God who created us, continues to hold us in existence, and who will love us and bless us more than any human being ever has or could?

Feast Day: July 11^th | Patronage: European Civilization, Members of Religious Orders, Monks, Schoolchildren, Spelunkers, Farmers, Civil Engineers, those with fevers, gall stones, kidney disease, inflammation, and the dying | Iconography: White hair, Black robe (as Benedictine) with cup, bread, and raven (hearkening to the attempt to poison him), or book, crosier or cross (as abbot)

I want to embarrass St. Benedict a bit this week – as if that were possible – by drawing from a story that casts his twin sister in far better light. 

Scholastica, the sister of Saint Benedict, had been consecrated to God from her earliest years. She was accustomed to visiting her brother once a year. He would come down to meet her at a place on the monastery property, not far outside the gate. One day she came as usual and her saintly brother went with some of his disciples; they spent the whole day praising God and talking of sacred things. As night fell they had supper together. Their spiritual conversation went on and the hour grew late. The holy nun said to her brother: “Please do not leave me tonight; let us go on until morning talking about the delights of the spiritual life.” “Sister,” he replied, “what are you saying? I simply cannot stay outside my cell.” When she heard her brother refuse her request, the holy woman joined her hands on the table, laid her head on them and began to pray. As she raised her head from the table, there were such brilliant flashes of lightning, such great peals of thunder and such a heavy downpour of rain that neither Benedict nor his brethren could stir across the threshold of the place where they had been seated. Sadly he began to complain: “May God forgive you, sister. What have you done?” “Well,” she answered, “I asked you and you would not listen; so I asked my God and he did listen. So now go off, if you can, leave me and return to your monastery.” Reluctant as he was to stay of his own will, he remained against his will. So it came about that they stayed awake the whole night, engrossed in their conversation about the spiritual life. It is not surprising that she was more effective than he, since as John says, God is love, it was absolutely right that she could do more, as she loved more.

St. Benedict has one of those amazing titles that sometimes saints get after we look back at their life: Patron of Europe, or Patron of European Culture. There are six saints who have been given this same title – St. Benedict, Ss. Cyril and Methodius, St. Bridget of Sweden, St. Catherine of Sienna, and St. Theresa Benedicta of the Cross. Now, I suspect most of us will not receive such a title when we become saints, but we are all called, like these saints, to build up authentic Christian culture. 

Culture goes wrong when our lives, and then our society, are ordered around the wrong thing. (Think of any number of horrific cults. They went bad because they were centered on a bad character or evil purpose). True culture sustains and helps us thrive, and this happens when we are grounded and centered on that which is true and good (consider words like “cultivation” or that Latin word, cultus, that simply meant right-worship.)  The little anecdote from St. Benedict’s life – and truly his life in general – teaches us one simple way to build up culture in our homes,  families, and surroundings: converse about beautiful things. 

When is the last time you shared something beautiful in conversation with your spouse or child, and then you marveled in it together? We don’t often give time to that sort of thing. We just hit the like button and keep scrolling, or slurp down our delicious cup of coffee and speed into the day, or take a picture of the sunset and then drive on. If God thought it important enough to force St. Benedict and St. Scholastica to spend the night talking together do you think He might have provided beautiful, lovely, profound, awe-some things for you to enjoy, and want you to share them with those you love? I suspect He has!

– Fr. Dominic is actually visiting his own twin sister, also a nun (Sr. Mary Thomas of the Holy Name of Jesus is her name) this very weekend. He prays to be humbled as was St. Benedict, and to share with her and his family so many beautiful things that God has placed within his life.

In last week’s article, I introduced the theme that I hope to focus on for the new few months, that of delving more deeply into our understanding and appreciation of our greatest prayer, which is the Mass.    I indicated that my first reflection would be to address how to prepare for Mass, explaining that how we prepare will have a direct impact on how we experience this great prayer.  As I’ve reflected on this over the past week, it strikes me that there are two basic areas of preparation that we need to consider – internal and external.  This week we will focus on the internal preparation, and next week we will consider the external preparation.

There are a few different ways to approach our internal preparation, but I think I would like to start with doing an examination on our attitude toward the Mass.  I think I may have written about this one other time, but repeating it certainly will not hurt!  Think about how you and your family talk about going to Mass.  How often have you said internally or externally: “We have to go to Mass today”, feeling the burden of obligation over the opportunity to praise God.  It is true, we have an obligation to go to Mass, and I addressed that when I spoke about the Precepts of the Church, how we are obliged to go to Mass every Sunday and Holy Day of Obligation.

How do you feel about that obligation?  What do you notice moving in your heart when you think about having to go to Mass?  For some, I am certain it is not something that fills us with much enthusiasm.  There are other things we can do during the weekend, and going to Mass can seem like an inconvenience.  Or, perhaps our experience of being at Mass has left us feeling unfulfilled.  It is not uncommon to to hear people say: “I do not get anything out of Mass.” With reverence and respect, I respond to that with a question: “But what do you put into going to Mass?”  I say that not to make people feel guilty, but to invite them to consider that maybe what is lacking is not the Mass itself, but our attitudes toward Mass.  This is my ultimate reason for offering this series, to help us to see how we can bring our entire selves to the Mass, understanding it’s beauty and better understanding how we are called to enter into the Mass, such that it becomes a transformative experience for us, and not something we simply have to endure.

So, what is your attitude toward Mass?  Acknowledge it and humbly bring it before the Lord in prayer.  If you struggle with seeing Mass as important and something to look forward to, tell Him.  If you love going to Mass, tell Him that as well.  If you are somewhere in between, tell Him that!  By bringing this to the Lord, we are asking Him to expand our hearts so that we can love this prayer more.  I presume all of us want to grow in our love for the Mass and that we are not content to just endure it for the rest of our lives!  So let’s start with asking the Lord for the grace He wants for us, especially as it concerns the Mass.  He desires for us to understand and experience the profound gift of His love that is available at every Mass.  Do you desire that too?  I hope so.  And if you do, tell Him.  That might be one of the most important places to start as we begin this journey together in exploring the riches of this greatest prayer we have as Catholics.

Feast Day: July 3^rd | Patronage: Twins, Architects, Craftsmen, Theologians, the Blind, India, Afghanistan | Iconography: Holding Staff (of missionary), Scroll or Book (of apostle), Spear (how he was martyred); two fingers together (recalling his recognizing Jesus as both God and man); touching Jesus’ side in upper room, 

Often when St. Thomas the Apostle is mentioned the first thing we recall is his doubt upon hearing of Jesus’ resurrection and tremendous return to faith when Jesus invited him to touch the wounds of His crucifixion, crying out “My Lord, and My God!” We see him depicted reaching towards Jesus’ wounds, and rightly meditate on doing so ourselves. Why were Jesus’ wounds not healed away? Why does God carry scars? These are beautiful places to pray into, but I would like to propose an additional meditation for all of us this week. In 1945, awaiting execution in a Berlin jail cell for his resistance to the Nazi regime in Germany, the Jesuit priest Fr. Alfred Delp wrote this reflection:  

There are hours when we can do only one thing: gather up all our woe and extreme plight into one imploring shout, one simple cry for mercy and help. And to cry it out or scream it or weep it or whimper it to the God who wants to save. To moan out all the woe within us into the sacred space where God touches our self and loves it and is good to it. Sooner or later all thinking and all attempts at flight must cease. Then we must lie very still so that the thorns of the thicket into which we have fallen won’t inflict new wounds. Lie very still and know our impotence and seek for God’s healing hand. There are the wounds of affliction, but then again there are the wonders of affliction. Even in our most extreme distress we must not give up trust. We should remember that the Lord God shares our life, that the Holy Spirit calls us into intimacy with God.… God’s creating and healing Spirit is present to every fiber of our being.[Alfred Delp, from his meditation on the Veni, Sancte Spiritus.]

Notice what this great priest realizes before his being murdered by the Gestapo: that our wounds are the places where Christ allows us to come closest to Him. Certainly Thomas encountered Jesus in a new way when he touched Jesus’ wounds, but Jesus also met Thomas in a new way when the doubting apostles allowed Jesus to touch his wounds! 

Why was St. Thomas not in the upper room? A boy once conjectured to Fr. Alford that perhaps Thomas was out shopping, or at the barber, and perhaps St. Thomas was! I think that Thomas is just the kind of guy to have the guts to go out and do necessary things while all the other apostles were petrified in fear. Glancing back to an earlier passage in St. John’s Gospel, we see Thomas boldly challenging the other disciples to “go [to Bethany, where Lazarus had died], that we might die with him”, with Jesus (John 11:16). He does seem to have been given a greater gift of courage! 

Similarly, on an earlier occasion in the upper room, on the evening of Holy Thursday, Jesus told the apostles: “Let not your hearts be troubled … I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. And you know the way to where I am going.” (John 14:3-4) Recall Thomas’s response: “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” It’s a good question! It again shows a man with the gumption to follow Jesus, come what may – but with an important caveat – as long as he knows the way. 

I suspect all of us are willing to follow Christ when the road is flat, clear, and obvious, but what about when He just says “keep your eyes on me and keep walking”, and we can’t see a thing? When the storms are crashing around and He asks “Is it enough that I’m in the boat?” What about when I’m about to preach and still have nothing to say? When someone is sick, and nothing is helping? When the day’s duties feel heavy, or insignificant, or I feel incapable, or unloved? Are we willing, with Thomas, to step up to Jesus, to see His wounds, and let Him see ours?

– Fr. Dominic had a nagging thought keeping him up last night. This morning, I’m tired, a little grumpy, and don’t really want to talk to Jesus about it. Thankfully, He is persistent in asking me to do so.

If all you did was read the title of this article, you might guess that this will be about the prayer that Jesus taught His disciples (the Our Father) when they asked Him to teach them to pray.  To be sure, this is one of the most important and powerful prayers we have in our spiritual arsenal, and much can be written (and has been written) on this prayer.  But the prayer that I want to consider is the Mass.

As our country is in the midst of this time of Eucharistic Revival, we often point to the sad statistic of how many Catholics do not believe in the Real Presence of the Eucharist, that Jesus is truly, really, substantially present – Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity – in the Eucharistic species following the Consecration at Mass.  Some have therefore concluded that this Eucharistic Revival is about strengthening our belief in this important truth of the Real Presence of Jesus.  And while very necessary, the Bishops of the United States envision more for us during this special time.

As many of you know, many of the priests of the diocese were on retreat a few weeks ago.  Our Retreat Master was Bishop Robert Lombardo, Auxiliary Bishop of Chicago.  He happens to be on Bishops Advisory Group for the Eucharistic Revival.  In a conversation one evening with some of the priests, he shared with us how there is a great need also to grow in our appreciation and love for the celebration of the Mass, our greatest prayer.

Now that we are in a rather long stretch of Ordinary Time, I would like to begin a series of reflections on how we can all pray the Mass better, appreciating the richness of this great prayer, such that we truly see it as the “apex” of all Christian prayers, as Pope Benedict explained several years ago.

I have not organized this series in a strict manner, so there is some room for flexibility on the topics that I will address.  If there is something about the Mass that you are interested in learning about, feel free to suggest a topic and I will see if I can’t work it in at some point.

My plan is to begin next week by reflecting on how we prepare for Mass and how that has a direct impact on our experience of attending and praying Mass.  A good preparation can transform our experience of this great prayer.  After that I hope to begin with the Introductory Rites and work my way through the various parts and prayers of the Mass, offering a mix of catechesis and personal reflections based on my experience of praying the Mass, both as a layperson, and now as a priest.  I hope to conclude my series with some thoughts on how the Mass commits us to the life of missionary discipleship.

I am personally excited about this new series, partly for selfish reasons because I look forward to how writing these articles will serve to increase my love for this great prayer that I have the privilege of offering every day.  But I am also praying that these reflections will be received with open hearts by all who read them, so that as we journey through them, our hearts will be kindled with love for the Mass and, by extension, the gift of the Jesus in the Eucharist whom we have the opportunity to encounter and receive at each Mass.

Feast Day: June 26^th | Patronage: brothers, soldiers, various cities in Italy, men in prayer | Iconography: praying together, martyred together, they are dressed as soldiers (boots, spears, armor, swords, cloaks), and shown to be martyrs (being beheaded, holding palm-branch) 

John and Paul were brothers who lived around Rome during the 300s. They were both Roman soldiers and were blessed to grow up, and serve, during the reign of Constantine when peace was restored around the empire (after decades of infighting and political turmoil) and their Christian faith was now allowed to be publicly practiced around the realm. It must have been an exciting time to be alive and a wondrous thing to see giant basilicas being built after centuries of Christian worship being hidden (even if Christian charity, and witness/martyrdom, had been manifest all the more during those centuries of persecution). 

Constantine held these brothers in high esteem, both as excellent soldiers and virtuous men, for they were entrusted to protect his daughter Constantia. The Church, in her hagiagrophy, also has remembered the prayerfulness of these brothers, often recalling them praying together in their house on the Caelian hill. As it turned out, their courage and devotion would soon be put to the test. Upon the death of Constantine’s son and heir, a new emperor came to the throne, Julian, named “the apostate” for the horrible reason that he tired to undo his own Christian baptism with a sordid ritual of bull’s blood, and then proceeded to attempt to stamp out the Christian faith around the empire. Knowing the valor and quality of John and Paul, he called them back to serve in his own military. The brothers, knowing this would now require them to offer sacrifice to Jupiter, refused to follow Julian into apostasy, and that emperor, angry at their fealty to God over himself, but lacking the courage to confront his soldiers himself, dispatched a minion to behead them in their home (where they were found kneeling in prayer.) 

So many lessons could be learned from these men! I consider how, though given tremendous riches by Constantine (including that affluent villa), in their final days they didn’t scheme how to maintain those possessions but hustled around the city giving it all away (indeed, their magnificent home would itself become a magnificent basilica in the years to come!) I am struck as well by the fact that they did not defend themselves, though certainly they could have put up a fight, and morally would have been more than justified in doing so. And I especially hold in mind those sturdy men kneeling in prayer awaiting a crash upon their door. How infrequently do we kneel in our own homes? How infrequently do I kneel with other men in prayer? 

Earlier this month after my cousin’s wedding, her husband asked if before the pictures, and the signing of the marriage certificate, even before the wedding party had processed out of the church that we all kneel down and pray the rosary together. Not only that, but he personally asked his dad and hers, and his godfather and hers, to each lead one of the mysteries (the new husband took the final decade himself). Everyone was moved to see this new couple beginning their married life in prayer, and especially to have each of those men leading the entire congregation in the rosary. As a priest, I get to lead prayer all the time, but even with brother priests, and often with friends and family, our prayer together is somewhat rote, not that vulnerable and “risky”.

Why do I hesitate to be real in opening up in prayer together, man-to-man, brother-to-brother? Why do I find it easy to go on a bike-ride with other guys, and sweat and work and struggle and banter with them, but forget to start with a prayer, or forget to ask for their prayers for me? Why does it stick out to us when we hear of Dcn. Rob leading a men’s bible-study on Wednesday mornings, or a group of dads joining together to hold each other accountable, or the dozen men who I pray morning prayer with over zoom on weekdays, or that we have four priests and a bishop living together here at Cathedral? Do men need prayer less than women? Are Christian fathers unchallenged in their vocation, or is that the kind of vocation best done solo? Are priests better off on their own? John and Paul became saints by praying together, it seems likely that most all the rest of us will only be able to follow Jesus with a similar level of devotion, and friendship.

– Fr. Dominic is going to take another step in building priestly-brotherhood by inviting the local priests over for the fourth of July, not only to have a cookout and watch the fireworks together, but to pray together and be real with each other, and the Lord.

Many of you know that our Cathedral household is full of runners – you might see one of us sometimes heading out the back patio when Mass is about to start. As much as I enjoy running, I am switching things up a bit this summer, as I am training as a biking missionary with an organization called Biking for Babies. The mission of Biking for Babies (B4B) is threefold – form pro-life missionaries, raise awareness for Pregnancy Resource Centers, and raise funds for Pregnancy Resource Centers. 

Our efforts will all come together this summer during the week of July 9-15 when we will do the national ride. Eight teams will bike from various places around the country and meet in St. Louis (6 teams) or Washington, DC (2 teams). My team will be meeting in Columbus, Ohio, and finishing in St. Louis. To save you looking up how far that is, it is around 600 miles! We won’t be taking the most direct route, but each day we will arrive at a planned stop with a community that will be hosting us for a meal and putting us up for the night. At each event, I will celebrate Mass, and some of the missionaries will share their story or a pro-life testimony during dinner. 

I would like to request your support in several ways. First, please pray for me and the other missionaries (around 80 of us) as we make our final push in training, that we stay safe and healthy as we offer our rides up to promote the culture of life. Fortunately, my team (and two others) will be making a stop right here at the Cathedral! Please join us for the 5:15 Mass on Friday, July 14, with dinner and testimonies to follow. Two years ago, a team came to the Cathedral, which was a major factor in my decision to be a part of the organization this year! Third, if you are able and feel called, I am also looking for financial support for the ride. My goal is to raise $5,000 for pregnancy resource centers – our combined goal this year is over $200k. Many pregnancy resource centers run on shoestring budgets, and we don’t want money to be an obstacle to anyone choosing life for her child! The easiest way to find my page is to google, “Biking for Babies, Fr. Dominic Vahling.” Or, you can drop something in the collection with a note that it is for my bike ride. I am most grateful for your support, but I know that our parish just did the Baby Bottle Boomerang to support First Step here in Springfield. (They are my partner center!) I don’t want this to be any sort of competition between pro-life things, so please prioritize supporting First Step directly, if you have to choose. 

I plan to write more about First Step Women’s Center in the coming weeks – as a way to raise awareness for the amazing resources they offer. Thank you for your prayers and for your faith in Jesus Christ, who made each one of us in his image and likeness! 

In my homily for Corpus Christi, I referenced a story about the Eucharist that I heard from the late Archbishop Fulton Sheen.  A term he used in his talk was “Eucharistic Radiation”, a power that comes from the tabernacle where Jesus Christ is truly present.  I have to say that I really love that image and it just reinforces how powerful just sitting or kneeling in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament can be.  I try to spend an hour of prayer every day in the Church.  There are many times when I do not feel much.  I get distracted, and I even doze off.  I sometimes walk away from my prayer feeling a little frustrated that I did not “pray better” or that I did not seem to get much from my prayer.  But this idea of Eucharistic Radiation reminds me that the fruitfulness of prayer is not so much a function of what I do, but rather what He does.  Of course, I try my best to be attentive to the Lord and to pray well.  But in the end, only the Lord can produce fruit when it comes to prayer.  The Lord is always faithful and by my approaching Him with a desire to be strengthened by Him, He is undoubtedly working for my good each time I come to Him, regardless of what I feel.

I share that as a way of encouragement to any of you who may have come to our 40 Hours and maybe did not have a life-altering experience.  Perhaps you walked away a little disappointed that you did not feel different after that hour, or that you seemed to struggle with distractions or dryness during prayer.  Be at peace knowing how delighted the Lord was that you were there, and your being with Him put you in direct contact with that Eucharistic Radiation that has undoubtedly been working in your soul for your good.

Seen from this perspective, I have no doubt that our 40 Hours was a huge success in that many people spent time in the presence of God’s transforming presence who otherwise may have not done so.  And that time will bear fruit, to the extent that we continue to give the Lord the room He needs to work in us.  The fruit may not come right away, and in may in fact take quite some time.  But may we never doubt the faithfulness of God and His desire to continually transform us so that slowly but surely, we will be able to say like St. Paul: “it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.” (Gal 2:20)

I would like to take this opportunity to thank all of those who participated in our 40 Hours in any way, whether you signed up for an hour slot or just stopped in for a brief visit.  Your being exposed to this Eucharistic Radiation of Jesus is not only a blessing for you individually, but it benefits the entire parish, and indeed the whole Body of Christ.  The Eucharist is a great source of unity for the Church, and every time we partake of this gift, we contribute to the building up of the Church.  Perhaps that can be a good reminder that we carry with us as well when it comes to going to Mass or taking time to visit the Blessed Sacrament.  If benefitting ourselves is not enough of a motivation, knowing that there might be another member of the Body of Christ who is waiting to benefit from our prayer can be the motivation that gets us to commit to coming before the Lord and His Eucharistic Radiation.