Feast Day: December 29^th 

What is Jesus doing when He claims to have fulfilled Psalm 110 in Himself? St. Peter interprets it for us in his first sermon on Pentecost (and thereby underlines how critical it was to Jesus’ mission and identity). Hang on as we get a full taste of his understanding, and passion, having just received the Holy Spirit!: 

Brothers, I may say to you with confidence about the patriarch David that he both died and was buried, and his tomb is with us to this day. Being therefore a prophet, and knowing that God had sworn with an oath to him that he would set one of his descendants on his throne, he foresaw and spoke about the resurrection of the Christ, that he was not abandoned to Hades, nor did his flesh see corruption. This Jesus God raised up, and of that we all are witnesses. Being therefore exalted at the right hand of God, and having received from the Father the promise of the Holy Spirit, he has poured out this that you yourselves are seeing and hearing. For David did not ascend into the heavens, but he himself says,

“‘The Lord said to my Lord,
“Sit at my right hand,
until I make your enemies your footstool.”’

Let all the house of Israel therefore know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified.” Now when they heard this they were cut to the heart, and said to Peter and the rest of the apostles, “Brothers, what shall we do?” And Peter said to them, “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. [Acts 2:29-38]

Jesus, Peter tells us, by claiming psalm 110 for his own, is claiming two extraordinary things: that He is the Christ, the Messiah, the anointed heir and son of David – yes, a lord, a rival to the Roman rulers – but also that He is son and equal of YHWH, God incarnate – yes, the Lord, not just a rival of the high priestly class, but the only one who fully interprets (and actually inspired) the scriptures. Rightly so then, when Jesus claims to fulfil this passage, both Pilate and Caiaphas know He is throwing the gauntlet before them. 

And Jesus is not only claiming those extraordinary identities by citing this passage, but is turning the whole thing on its head at the same time! It had always been read as a promise that one day a new David would successfully conquer all of Israel’s enemies. What if instead it was always a promise of a King and Kingdom that instead embraces Israel’s enemies? What if the carpenter’s son was in fact the true High Priest? What if the Roman occupation was not contrary to God’s Kingdom but the way in which God’s Kingdom will be carried to the world? What if death itself were the means to Eternal Life, and the descendent of David were in fact His Creator? What if this son of David were the Lord that David served?

And so we take another leap forward, one century, and another, and another. A cantankerous Church Father, the great scholar Jerome, found his way to another quiet cave near the village of Bethlehem and began to translate the Old and New Testaments into Latin. He came to the critical passage of Psalm 110, verse 1 and replaces the Hebrew “adonai” and Greek “kyrios” with the Latin word “Dominus.” And so, “The Lord says to my lord” becomes the splendid Latin line, “Dixit Dominus Domino meo.” Such were the words cited by Ambrose or Augustine in their preaching and teaching on the radical transformation of death that comes with Jesus’ Resurrection (Ambrose’s Exameron) and His equality with the Eternal Father (Augustine’s Tractate 99).

But first, just a few decades before all three of those great Fathers of the Church, we have a saint who depicts even more clearly the fulfillment and authentic Christian interpretation of this age-old prophecy. We are far from Bethlehem, beyond even Cairo, probably near modern Tunisia or Libya and we are watching eight men, Christians, refuse to uphold Diocletian’s divinity and offer incense in his honor. They are part of the Roman empire and Roman culture; their names obviously Latin: Dominic, Victor, Primian, Lybosus, Saturninus, Crescentius, Secundus and Honoratus, but they will not budge to their emperor’s demand. 

Their Lord, not Caesar, has conquered death and sanctified death. Their Lord, not Caesar, has both divinity, and authority. Their Lord, not Caesar, reigns eternally and death cannot cut them off from Him. And the first was named “Dominic”, the first St. Dominic in the history of the Church, and we know nothing about him except His name, “Dominicus”, “of the Lord.” Yet with that name, he carries in himself a radical claim: that The Lord and his lord are the same person, the God-man Jesus Christ.

– Fr. Dominic is just glad to have been introduced to another name-sake and intercessor this week. (AND, another feast day that ought to be adequately celebrated!)

Shortly after entering the seminary, I started to keep a list in my breviary (prayer book) which had names of people that I would pray for each day.  I remember telling my grandmother one day, in passing, that she was on the list, that I was praying for her each day.  Somewhat surprisingly, she brought that up on more than one occasion when I heard her talking with others.  I think she felt honored to be prayed for each day.  My grandmother did not really practice any form of faith, at least as long as I knew her.  I am not even sure that she was ever baptized.  At times, she was a little outspoken about her view of Christians, that they tended to be hypocrites, to which I responded one time to her: “There is always room for one more.”

I believe, however, that my daily prayers for her did have an impact.  As I was nearing the time for my diaconate ordination, my grandmother was not in very good health.  She expressed that she wanted to stay alive long enough to see me be ordained as a deacon, and thanks be to God, she was there.  Much to my delight she was also able to be there for my ordination to the priesthood, and it was clear that she was very proud of me.  Of course, my grandmother was always going to love me, but I think the prayers I offered for her each day had a way of softening her heart, such that she grew more and more open to Christianity.  My grandmother died shortly before I celebrated my first anniversary as a priest, and just one day before her and my grandfather would have celebrated their 66^th wedding anniversary.  I hold on to the hope that her openness to the faith in her final years would have put her in a much better position to make the decision to accept Jesus at that final moment of her life.

We all likely have people in our lives that are a little like my grandmother.  We have family members and friends who are far away from the practice of our Catholic faith in particular, or Christianity in general.  Some from our families may have been raised Catholic, even practiced for many years, only to have fallen away.  We can become discouraged about this, and it is indeed a point of great suffering for many, especially parents whose children have stopped practicing the Catholic faith in which they were raised.

We are always looking for the perfect plan that will bring these people back into the regular practice of the faith, but it is not so simple as following an equation that will yield the right answer every time.  We should be making efforts, to be sure.  But we must never forget that the first step, and accompanying every step, is prayer.  In the Book of Psalms we read: “Unless the LORD builds the house, those who build it labor in vain.” (Ps 127:1)

Next weekend, we will have cards in the pews on which you will have the opportunity to write a name of somebody for whom you would like to commit to pray, asking the Lord to soften their hearts, that they might be open at some point to receive the invitation to accept the faith for the first time, or to return to the practice of the faith.  If you are comfortable, you can even tell that person that you are praying for them each day.  You do not need to tell them that you are praying that the Lord will get them back to church, just that you are praying for them.  We can never underestimate the power of our daily, fervent prayers for others.  Whether they be a blood relative or simply a brother or sister in Christ, this family that is the Body of Christ will always be strengthened through prayer for one another, and the Lord, who desires their presence with us far more than we do, will be doing His work of tilling the soil of their hearts, so that, in due time, the seed of invitation planted will yield fruit.

Father Alford     

Feast Day: December 29^th 

On the road up to Bethlehem walked a wizened man. He was leading a heifer and had a horn of oil slung over his shoulder. As he entered the little village in the shadow of the pagan city Jerusalem, he explained that he was there to offer sacrifice. Later that day when the consecrated oil ran down the ruddy hair of the shepherd-boy, it would become evident that he was actually there to consecrate a new king. Fast forward one decade, and then another, and David found himself on the run. Saul pursued this rival king relentlessly, seeing only threat in his charisma, faithfulness, and talented leadership. David finally found respite in one of the many caves where he would often stop and pray, and a promise from his God took shape in his heart:

“Sit at my right hand, until I make your enemies your footstool.”

God would find a way through. God would establish his throne. God would defeat the darkness and violence and establish a kingdom where He could dwell with His people. If only David would sit next to God, place himself in the shadow of the Lord’s throne. Fast forward one decade, and then another one, and the promise seemed fulfilled: David was king of all the tribes, lord in his new capital city Jerusalem, dancing before the Ark of God, preparing to build a Temple to the true God. David being a man of blood, that great project would be the task of his son and heir Solomon. And so God’s promise became a psalm, proclaimed and sung by all of Israel:

A Psalm of David
The Lord says to my Lord:
“Sit at my right hand,
 until I make your enemies your footstool.” [Psalm 110:1]

The Ancient Hebrew has more punch to it: “The Lord” stands in for the unpronounceable name of God, YHWH. “My lord” is just the Hebrew word “adonai”, a master, leader, commander, or king, in this case David. Fast forward one century, and then another, and Israel – their hopes of victory and peace dashed, the Temple torched and empty – was forced to chant this psalm in exile. Eventually they would return, and rebuild, but the wound would be reopened, not by Philistines, or Babylonians, but by the Greeks of Alexander. It seemed the opposite of the psalm had come to pass: God’s people trampled underfoot, and yet it does mean that God’s people and His inspired words to them only thus began to spread throughout Alexander’s empire. 

Fast forward one century, and another, and we find ourselves at another little cave near Bethlehem where an impoverished couple cares for their newborn son. Now it was not the Greeks, but the Romans, under whose heel the Hebrews suffered. We pause on the night when the troops of Herod ride out to seek the child’s life, and the angel of God directs Joseph to take his wife and son into exile in Egypt. In God’s providence, there is already a Jewish enclave outside of Cairo, from those previous exiles from centuries before. It was a long walk from Alexandria in whose great library the scriptures had been translated but it is close enough for them to hear in that synagogue the ancient promise: “The Lord said to my lord”, now rendered in Greek, with “Kyrios” speaking to “kyrios.”

If we fast forward a decade, and then another one, the carpenter, his wife, and their little boy had long returned to Nazareth. From there the carpenter’s son, as it was supposed, began to preach repentance, and forgiveness of sins, and that the scriptures – all of them! – were actually fulfilled in Him. All was fine as long as it was just the lame leaping and the blind seeing, but then Jesus strode up into God’s city Jerusalem and into God’s Holy Temple, and there he lays claim to one, final, extraordinary prophecy:

Jesus asked them a question, saying, “What do you think about the Christ? Whose son is he?” They said to him, “The son of David.” He said to them, “How is it then that David, in the Spirit, calls him Lord, saying, “‘The Lord said to my Lord, “Sit at my right hand, until I put your enemies under your feet””? If then David calls him Lord, how is he his son?” And no one was able to answer him a word, nor from that day did anyone dare to ask him any more questions. [Matthew 22:41-46]

From here, the son of David would leave the city, would prophesy the coming destruction of the Temple (and everything else) because it had rejected the time of its visitation. He will then be anointed in Bethany, and Judas will begin scheming with the leaders in the Temple to betray Him. This claim, this argument, citing this prophecy directly precipitates Our Lord’s crucifixion. Why did Jesus do it? What was He claiming? 

The full story (and to finally encounter our martyr St. Dominic) we will have to wait until next week. For now, let it suffice to say that Jesus is claiming to not only be a son of David, a lord with a lower-case “l”, but the son of God, the Lord, with every letter capitalized.

– Fr. Dominic had way too much fun taking 12 or 14 words from the Roman Martyrology all the way to a two-part saga spiraling up to St. Dominic. Goes to show how long God has been writing this story that we’re all part of!

When I was writing my series in the bulletin on the Mass, one of the things I tried to encourage us to do is to reflect not just on the power of the Word of God in the readings at Mass, but also to consider the other prayers of the Mass as fruitful material for our mediation.  In that regard, I find the prayers that the Church offers to us during the Advent season to be particularly beautiful and worth our attention.  In the final days leading up to Christmas, the Church has us use a special Advent Preface, which takes place after the Offertory, and before entering the Eucharistic Prayer.  I would like to share a part of that prayer and offer a few thoughts, which I hope can be helpful to us in these final days before Christmas.  After the normal introduction found in every Preface, we hear the following:

For all the oracles of the prophets foretold him,
the Virgin Mother longed for him
with love beyond all telling,
John the Baptist sang of his coming
and proclaimed his presence when he came.

It is by his gift that already we rejoice
at the mystery of his Nativity,
so that he may find us watchful in prayer
and exultant in his praise.

As we read these words, perhaps we can do a sort of final examination of ourselves to see how prepared we are for Christmas, spiritually that is!  Can we say that, as we are in these final days, that our hearts are longing for Him “with love beyond all telling” as was the case with Mary?  Or, have we exhausted ourselves with Christmas preparations and parties that we are actually just looking forward to getting past Christmas?  Are our hearts longing more for the gifts we hope to receive than to receive Him, who is our greatest gift, in the Eucharist?

Consider how St. John the Baptist sang of His coming.  Have we planned for which Christmas Mass that are going to attend, and are we resolved to rejoice at the birth of our Savior, singing of His coming through our full, conscious, and active participation in the liturgy?  It always saddens me a little bit when I see the many dreary faces at Mass, as though coming to Mass is somehow an imposition and a burden, something to just get out of the way.  Our hearts should be flooded with joy, and it should be seen in the eagerness with which we participate in Mass.  

Finally, can it be said of us that we have taken time this Advent to be “watchful in prayer”?  Or, have we let ourselves be consumed with so many other things?  If we have not been as watchful as we would like, we might think that we have missed the chance to prepare our hearts to welcome Christ fully at Christmas.  But the good news is that it is not too late!  Even if we start now, intentionally dedicating 15-30 minutes to silent prayer, free of distractions, we will be doing ourselves a great service.  We can ask Mary to help us to long for Her Son with that love beyond all telling.  We can ask St. John the Baptist to intercede for us, that we might have the joy he had at the coming of the Messiah.  

Time is running out, the Lord is coming soon!  May these final hours be a time during which we set aside some time for silence so that, when Christmas finally comes, the Lord will find us “watchful in prayer” and ready to celebrate with joy the memorial of His birth.

Father Alford     

Most days of the year have several, if not dozens, of saints who are all remembered on that day. The Church has a long history, and a long memory, and has treasured the saints since the beginning, so there are good odds that we have amazing stories of heroism and holiness to portray the Gospel for us each and every day.

December 22^nd is no different, though we do not have many saints, and we do not have many details about them. Here’s what the martyrology recounts:

• At Rome, between the two bay trees on the Lavican road, the birthday of thirty holy martyrs, who were all on one day crowned with martyrdom, in the persecution of Diocletian.
• In the same city, St. Flavian, ex-prefect, who, under Julian the Apostate, was condemned to be branded for Christ, and banished to Aquae Taurinae, where he gave up his soul to God in prayer.
• At Ostia, the holy martyrs Demetrius, Honoratus and Florus.
• At Alexandria, the holy martyr Ischyrion. Because he despised all the cruelties they made him suffer to force him to sacrifice to idols, they transpierced his bowels with a sharp-pointed stake, and thus put him to death.
• In Egypt, the Saint Chaeremon, bishop of Nilopolis, and many other martyrs. Some of them fled whilst the persecution of Decius was raging, and wandering in different directions through deserts, were killed by wild beasts; others perished by famine, cold and sickness; others again were murdered by barbarians and robbers, and thus all were crowned with a glorious martyrdom.
• At Nicomedia, St. Zeno, soldier, who derided Diocletian for sacrificing to Ceres, wherefore he had his jawbones fractured, his teeth plucked out and his head struck off. 

These are the sufferings borne by our predecessors in the faith. We know little more than where, and how, they were killed for the sake of Christ. But perhaps this puts our own lives in context. Two thousand years from now, God willing, people will be praying for our intercession on the day of our death. Our graves may have long since been forgotten, the ups and downs and victories and defeats of our lives will have vanished into history, but maybe billions of Christians will look up which of their predecessors in the faith died on that day, and your name or mine will be before them. Maybe they’ll just know the place, and century, and that you or I lived and died for Christ. Does anything else matter?

Secondly, I’d like to briefly connect this to these final days of Advent. On the last week before Christmas, the Church centers her Evening Prayer upon a set of antiphons drawn from all throughout the Old Testament, how Christ fulfills all the hopes and hungers of the world. On December 22^nd that antiphon goes like this: “O King of the Gentiles, and the Desired of all nations; the Cornerstone who makest both one: Come and save man, whom Thou formedst from the dust of the earth.” If our world is divided, it is only because of sin, and only needs Christ to heal and make-whole. And the saints are a witness to us not only of persevering with Christ in the face of absolute violence and division, but also of the unity that He does bring. Look back at their names, and the cities where they died, these are individuals from all over the world, and from every possible level of society. Such is Christ’s Body in all ages, and such is the promise He offers us, and our world, as well.

– Fr. Dominic got off easy this week! The Church had already compiled the list, and essential details, for him. BUT, this gives more time for the Christmas article, so – trusting on the Holy Spirit there as well – get ready for something splendid. 

This past Tuesday, the First Reading for Mass was drawn from Isaiah 40 which speaks poetically about the joyful anticipation of the coming of salvation.  We hear the following words: “In the wilderness prepare the way of the LORD! Make straight in the wasteland a highway for our God!” (Is. 40:3) These are the very words that John the Baptist used in Matthew 3:3 when preaching in the desert to prepare for the coming of Jesus.  It is interesting to note that before quoting this Old Testament passage, John indicates how to prepare the way, using one word: “Repent!” (Mt. 3:2)

Repentance is therefore one of the most necessary things for us to do in order to truly prepare for the coming of Jesus.  The season of Advent is not just about preparing to celebrate the historical event of the birth of our Savior.  There is nothing terribly urgent as it relates to repentance for our celebration of that event.  Advent is also about preparing us for when Jesus will come again to judge the living and the dead.  The date and time of that is not known, and since it can be any moment, there is urgency for us to repent from anything that would leave us unprepared for His coming at the end of our lives.  This is the more substantial reason that we are encouraged to make use of the Sacrament of Reconciliation before Christmas.  To some extent this practice of going to Confession during Advent is tied to the fact that Catholics did not receive Holy Communion as frequently as we do now, so in order to receive Holy Communion on Christmas (which is highly encouraged), going to confession was necessary in order to ensure being in the state of grace.  To be sure, this reasoning is still sound, but our awareness of the unknown day and hour of His Second Coming is the grater reason for our repenting by going to confession.

For the past few years, the priests of the Cathedral have offered extended times for confessions in the latter part of Advent so as to give plenty of opportunities for the faithful to “prepare the way for the Lord.”  We will be offering these extra hours this coming Friday, December 20 from Noon until 6:00 pm, then on Saturday, December 21 from 7:00 am until 5:00 pm.  It would fill my heart with great joy if we had a constant line of people waiting to go to confession, eagerly preparing their hearts to welcome Christ.  Not only will it be a gift to the priests who have the privilege of sharing God’s mercy with you, it will be a gift that you will be giving yourself, one far more valuable than anything you will unwrap on Christmas Day.

I know that there are people that are reading this that might be terrified of the thought of going to confession.  With that in mind, I want to issue a challenge to all of us, that when we pray our three daily Hail Mary’s this week, we offer them for the following intentions:

1. The people in our parish who are most afraid of going to confession
2. The people in our parish who are most in need of going to confession
3. Ourselves, that we might have the humility and strength to go to confession

As is often the case, doing something alone can be difficult, so invite somebody to go with you to confession.  It could be a family member, a friend, or a co-worker.  Perhaps all that is holding them back is having somebody join them.  What a gift you can offer to another by accompanying them to experience this great gift of mercy.

Father Alford     

Feast Day: December 15^th 

The year was 1848, and revolution was threatening all over Europe. You probably know of the Irish Potato Famine which was then in its third or fourth year – with a million dead, and two million having fled the country – but various bad harvest led to famines across the continent leaving countless multitudes destitute and starving. This came alongside of a cataclysmic shift in industry from subsistence farming to mechanized factory production. This, mixed with ideas of independence, and national pride, led groups in (ununified) Italy to rise up and demand national unity (which was unsuccessful as the neighboring countries of France and Austria quickly put a stop to anything that could sway their power in the region.) But then a related rebellion began in France with impoverished factory workers rising up against their rich owners, only to be brutally suppressed by soldiers, but not before bitter disunity was born between them and farmers still happily farming out in the countryside. That news made its way to Berlin where different cohorts began their own riots, there arguing for German unification. That country still hopeless split between different princes, the Prussian King actually refused to accept the crown offered him by the pressured German princes, and so the whole thing was eventually put down and all the little princedoms intact for now. Then this tale repeated itself in Poland, with the upper-class in Krakow revolting against their Austrian government, whereas the peasants there refused to join them because Austria was their only way out of basically being serfs under those landowners… and then the peasants revolted against the landowners killing thousands of them. And then it repeated with different particulars in Austria, with 100,000 dead in the aftermath… It was an age when everyone was fighting everyone to increase their slice of the pie.

Just for context, 1848 was also when Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels wrote their famous pamphlet “The Communist Manifesto.” I think you know why.

Communism, of course, would in the end only multiply beyond comprehension the violence and deaths seen from the economic and cultural turmoil of those “hungry forties.” But when the world is crazy, God always provides saints to renew the message of the Gospel, and such was St. Maria Crocifissa di Rosa. 

She was born in an affluent family, one of nine children, and given a wonderful education by sisters in Brescia, Italy up until she was 17. That being the year her mother died, she returned to her home and began to run her family’s household and manage one of her father’s textile mills. Already she was moved by the struggles of the girls who worked there and began caring for them both materially and spiritually, eventually expanding her efforts to house and help other young women, and then the mute or deaf. In 1836, she learned nursing to aid those afflicted by a cholera epidemic, and afterwards turned her newly found nursing skills to the care of the elderly. Notice what the Lord is doing here: As economic unrest, alongside of hunger and disease, begin to build around Europe, here in Italy is a young woman with the education, experience, and empathy to directly confront it. Instead of violence and anger, here is someone addressing suffering with love and compassion and prayer and Christlike love.

And so we get back to 1848. War is ramping up all around her, and her compassion rises to meet it. She argues with those who operated the hospitals to allow her, and her group of followers, to help in the hospitals and makeshift shelters for the wounded and dying. Then her best friend dies, and shortly after also the priest that had helped her all these years to discern and protect her unique vocation. And then on one famous day in 1848, enemy soldiers hammered on the door of that hospital They would break the door down and tear everyone to shreds if need be. 

What would you do? What would a saint do? Sister Paula di Rosa – she would get her name a few years later when her band of followers were officially instituted as the Handmaids of Charity – but perhaps her action this day set the stage for her being named after the crucifix. Because Saint Paula di Rosa calmly opened the door, and stood before the raging mob holding a giant crucifix, flanked by two of her other sisters holding candles. She had once said “”I suffer from seeing suffering”, and so again she had plunged right into the hurt of her world, even if that meant staring down soldiers holding fast to the cross.

But stare she did. And the mob turned around. And she just kept loving the suffering until illness came for her as well. She died on December 15^th, 1855. 

– Fr. Dominic is taking away two truths from St. Maria Crocifissa di Rosa: First, that God can work in each of us, in precisely the way He has raised us up. He gives us our families, our story, our experiences, and our hearts to fit His plan for us perfectly. And secondly, that His plan also fits with the hunger and hurt of our particular time in history as well. We do not face cholera and hunger and mob-rule as did she, but our world has its own hurts, and we are the ones God has given to it to be saints.

For several decades, when the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception (Dec. 8) fell on a Sunday, the feast was transferred to the following day, Monday, December 9.  While the Solemnity was still observed, the obligation to attend Mass on that day was abrogated, or removed.  As it turns out, that practice was actually incorrect.  The Holy See recently clarified that in a case like this, even though the feast day is moved, the obligation still remains, thus having this coming Monday, December 9, be a Holy Day of Obligation.

Before I comment on the importance of this feast day, especially for us here at the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception, let me give you some specifics on how you might approach fulfilling two Mass obligations – one for the Second Sunday of Advent, and one for the Immaculate Conception:

• Attending any Mass from 4:00 pm on Saturday, December 7, through midnight on Sunday, December 8, fulfills the obligation for the Second Sunday of Advent.
• Attending any Mass from 4:00 pm on Sunday, December 8, through midnight on Monday, December 9, fulfills the obligation for the Immaculate Conception.
• Attending ONLY the 5:00 PM Mass on Sunday, December 8 does NOT fulfill both obligations, it would only fulfill the Sunday obligation, so you would need to attend one of the three Masses on Monday, December 9 (7:00 am, 12:05 pm, or 5:15 pm)

Admittedly, this can be a little confusing, but the main point is we are to go to Mass two times between Saturday evening and Monday evening.  The interesting thing is that at the Sunday 5:00 pm Mass, the prayers and readings will all be for the Second Sunday of Advent, but if you already went to Mass on Saturday evening or on Sunday morning, that 5:00 pm Mass would still count for your Immaculate Conception obligation.  And to anticipate a possible question, it is permissible to receive Holy Communion twice on the same day, so long as the second time is in the context of attending Mass (which this would be).

Since our Cathedral is under the patronage of Mary as the Immaculate Conception, we have an additional blessing available to us.  The Handbook of Indulgences states that a “A plenary indulgence is granted to the faithful who visit, and there devoutly recite and Our Father and the Creed, the cathedral church on the solemnity of its Titular.” (no. 33, pg. 101) Titular is a fancy name for the patronal feast day.  What an opportunity we have!  Not only do we get to receive Our Lord in the Eucharist twice in two days, but we can also gain a plenary indulgence, either for ourselves or for the faithful departed.  The other normal conditions apply for gaining a plenary indulgence, namely, praying for the intentions of the Holy Father (one Our Father and one Hail Mary can suffice), going to confessions within 20 days before or after, and a detachment from sin.

Let us see this not so much with the somewhat negative view that is carried with the word “obligation”, but see it through the positive lens of being an amazing “opportunity” for us to celebrate this feast in honor of Our Blessed Mother who has a special care for us here in the church under her patronage.  Let us ask her to intercede for us that the remainder of our Advent journey will be filled with an eager longing for the celebration of her Son’s birth at Christmas.

Father Alford     

Feast Day: December 8th

I bring you this week not a story of a saint, but words placed in the mouth of St. Bernard by Dante in his Paradiso (here given in Allen Mandelbaum’s 1980 translation). There, at the end of his long journey through Inferno and Purgatorio, Dante finds himself at the heights of heaven, introduced to our mother Mary by none other than the mystical, mellifluus, and Marian doctor of the Church, and then Mary directs his gaze past her into God, “the Love that moves the sun and the other stars.”

Virgin mother, daughter of your Son,
more humble and sublime than any creature,
fixed goal decreed from all eternity,

you are the one who gave to human nature
so much nobility that its Creator
did not disdain His being made its creature.

That love whose warmth allowed this flower to bloom
within the everlasting peace—was love
rekindled in your womb; for us above,

you are the noonday torch of charity,
and there below, on earth, among the mortals,
you are a living spring of hope. Lady,

you are so high, you can so intercede,
that he who would have grace but does not seek
your aid, may long to fly but has no wings.

Your loving-kindness does not only answer
the one who asks, but it is often ready
to answer freely long before the asking.

In you compassion is, in you is pity,
in you is generosity, in you
is every goodness found in any creature.

This man—who from the deepest hollow in
the universe, up to this height, has seen
the lives of spirits, one by one—now pleads

with you, through grace, to grant him so much virtue
that he may lift his vision higher still—
may lift it toward the ultimate salvation.

And I, who never burned for my own vision
more than I burn for his, do offer you
all of my prayers—and pray that they may not

fall short—that, with your prayers, you may disperse
all of the clouds of his mortality
so that the Highest Joy be his to see.

This, too, O Queen, who can do what you would,
I ask of you: that after such a vision,
his sentiments preserve their perseverance.

May your protection curb his mortal passions.
See Beatrice—how many saints with her!
They join my prayers! They clasp their hands to you!”

The eyes that are revered and loved by God,
now fixed upon the supplicant, showed us
how welcome such devotions are to her;

then her eyes turned to the Eternal Light—
there, do not think that any creature’s eye
can find its way as clearly as her sight.

And I, who now was nearing Him who is
the end of all desires, as I ought,
lifted my longing to its ardent limit.

Bernard was signaling—he smiled—to me
to turn my eyes on high; but I, already
was doing what he wanted me to do,

because my sight, becoming pure, was able
to penetrate the ray of Light more deeply—
that Light, sublime, which in Itself is true.

From that point on, what I could see was greater
than speech can show: at such a sight, it fails—
and memory fails when faced with such excess.

As one who sees within a dream, and, later,
the passion that had been imprinted stays,
but nothing of the rest returns to mind,

such am I, for my vision almost fades
completely, yet it still distills within
my heart the sweetness that was born of it.

So is the snow, beneath the sun, unsealed;
and so, on the light leaves, beneath the wind,
the oracles the Sibyl wrote were lost.

O Highest Light, You, raised so far above
the minds of mortals, to my memory
give back something of Your epiphany,

and make my tongue so powerful that I
may leave to people of the future one
gleam of the glory that is Yours, for by

returning somewhat to my memory
and echoing awhile within these lines,
Your victory will be more understood.

The living ray that I endured was so
acute that I believe I should have gone
astray had my eyes turned away from it.

I can recall that I, because of this,
was bolder in sustaining it until
my vision reached the Infinite Goodness.

O grace abounding, through which I presumed
to set my eyes on the Eternal Light
so long that I spent all my sight on it!

In its profundity I saw—ingathered
and bound by love into one single volume—
what, in the universe, seems separate, scattered:

substances, accidents, and dispositions
as if conjoined—in such a way that what
I tell is only rudimentary.

I think I saw the universal shape
which that knot takes; for, speaking this, I feel
a joy that is more ample. That one moment

brings more forgetfulness to me than twenty-
five centuries have brought to the endeavor
that startled Neptune with the Argo’s shadow!

So was my mind—completely rapt, intent,
steadfast, and motionless—gazing; and it
grew ever more enkindled as it watched.

Whoever sees that Light is soon made such
that it would be impossible for him
to set that Light aside for other sight;

because the good, the object of the will,
is fully gathered in that Light; outside
that Light, what there is perfect is defective.

What little I recall is to be told,
from this point on, in words more weak than those
of one whose infant tongue still bathes at the breast.

And not because more than one simple semblance
was in the Living Light at which I gazed—
for It is always what It was before—

but through my sight, which as I gazed grew stronger,
that sole appearance, even as I altered,
seemed to be changing. In the deep and bright

essence of that exalted Light, three circles
appeared to me; they had three different colors,
but all of them were of the same dimension;

one circle seemed reflected by the second,
as rainbow is by rainbow, and the third
seemed fire breathed equally by those two circles.

How incomplete is speech, how weak, when set
against my thought! And this, to what I saw.
is such—to call it little is too much.

Eternal Light, You only dwell within
Yourself, and only You know You; Self-knowing,
Self-known, You love and smile upon Yourself!

That circle—which, begotten so, appeared
in You as light reflected—when my eyes
had watched it with attention for some time,

within itself and colored like itself,
to me seemed painted with our effigy,
so that my sight was set on it completely.

As the geometer intently seeks
to square the circle, but he cannot reach,
through thought on thought, the principle he needs,

so I searched that strange sight: I wished to see
the way in which our human effigy
suited the circle and found place in it—

and my own wings were far too weak for that.
But then my mind was struck by light that flashed
and, with this light, received what it had asked.

Here force failed my high fantasy; but my
desire and will were moved already—like
a wheel revolving uniformly—by

the Love that moves the sun and the other stars.

– Fr. Dominic has nothing to add to that.

As we begin a new liturgical year, we have a great opportunity to do a sort of examination as it relates to our lives as disciples.  January 1 is often a time when people take stock of their lives and set resolutions in all sorts of areas, especially with regards to our physical health.  But I would suggest now is a great time for us to look at our spiritual health and with this new season, to see if there might be something the Lord is inviting us to consider doing to help advance that area of our lives.

One of the most essential habits of those committed to living a life of discipleship is daily prayer.  Many of us will acknowledge the need for this in our lives, but getting started can be a challenge.  Or, perhaps we do have a daily habit of prayer, but are hoping to deepen our commitment.  We might make the resolution to start praying every day, or to pray more, only to begin on day one and think: now what?  How do I pray?  What can I add?  There are many ways to pray, to be sure, and I cannot tell you which way is best for you.  Therefore, if we are new to prayer, or looking to explore some new possibilities, this season of Advent could be a time during which we try a few different things, liking trying on different outfits to see what fits, what feels good, what we seem to connect with.

In that regard, I am pleased to announce a resource that I think you will find extremely helpful in building or strengthening this daily habit of prayer, the Hallow app.  This app has exploded in popularity over the past couple of years and many (myself included) use it as a part of their daily prayer routine.  There are MANY different resources to explore on the app, and our parish has secured a special offer for our parishioners to try out the full set of content from Hallow for 120 days at the very low cost of $1 total!  You will find signup instructions later in the bulletin and in Atrium.

I personally use the Daily Examen prayer to reflect on the previous day, noticing where the Lord was present, where I may have missed Him, and how to follow Him better the next day.  I also regularly use the app for praying the Rosary.  The daily bible reflections from Jeff Cavins are also extremely insightful.  Sometimes, I just poke around the app to see what catches my attention.  Father Daniel McGrath, one of our Parochial Vicars, also uses Hallow regularly.  Here is what he has to say about using this app:

I have had the Hallow app since the middle of the summer. I didn’t use it much at first, but I have begun to enjoy almost daily listening to the music playlists, praying the rosary with it, and especially listening to the scripture readings when going to bed at night. There are so many resources it offers for making the Word of God a more regular part of your life! As St. Paul tells the Colossians, Let the Word of Christ dwell in you richly.

As we begin this new liturgical year, I pray that all of us will take some time to examine how we are doing with our daily prayer, and ask the Lord what one thing might be that we can add or change.  We do not need to overwhelm ourselves by adding too many things, lest we get overwhelmed and discouraged.  Start small.  Just one thing is something I think we can all manage.  And if the Hallow app helps you in identifying what that one thing is, thanks be to God!

Father Alford