Feast Day: January 21^st | Virgin and Martyr| Patronage: all Girls, Virgins, those seeking Purity and Chastity, Betrothed Couples, Gardeners, Victims of Sexual Abuse, City of Rome | Attributes: girl with long hair, pictured with a Lamb, holding the martyrs palm, sometimes with a sword at her feet.

I begin today about a century before Agnes was born. It is the year 200 A.D., and we are watching a Roman orator and philosopher speak to a rapt crowd in the city of Carthage (being almost 500 years after Rome defeated Carthage in the Punic wars, they were happy to listen to Tertullian give his speech in Latin. He also may have been born there to a Roman centurion.) He stood before them, though, shockingly appareled not in the regal and authoritative Roman toga, but simply wrapped in a pallium, a cloak or mantle worn by the goofy philosophers of Greece, and the shoddy and scorned sect of Christians. 

This, one of his shortest speeches, begins hilariously “Men of Carthage, ever princes of Africa, ennobled by ancient memories, blest with modern felicities, I rejoice that times are so prosperous with you that you have leisure to spend and pleasure to find in criticizing dress… you too of old time wore your garments–your tunics–of another shape; and indeed they were in repute for the skill of the weft, and the harmony of the hue, and the due proportion of the size, in that they were neither prodigally long across the shins, nor immodestly scanty between the knees, nor niggardly to the arms, nor tight to the hands, but, without being shadowed by even a girdle arranged to divide the folds, they stood on men’s backs with quadrate symmetry…” [Tertullian, “De Pallio”, “On the Mantle”, Chapter 1, Paragraph 1.1]

He was veiling in humorous, elegant (if desperately difficult to translate) prose, a serious announcement: I am a Christian. To wear the Christian pallium placed him squarely under the ire of the governors who would only two years later send Ss. Perpetua and Felicity to the arena in that same city of Carthage. Those eminent martyrs we all recognize from their leading the procession of female saints in the Roman Canon. Felicity and Perpetua from Carthage (in Northern Africa); Agatha and Lucy from Sicily; Agnes and Cecilia from Rome, and Anastasia from Sirmium (now in Serbia). It is Agnes we befriend this week. 

After discovering her to be a Christian, this 12-year-old girl endured the abuse of her persecutors, eventually being killed by sword-stroke to her neck. Fellow Christians lovingly collected her body, even soaking up the blood of one who had so faithfully poured it out in faith. Her own foster-sister, Emerentiana, would herself be martyred for the reverence she persevered in showing to the body of her foster-sister. Others were cured by their own veneration of the relics of the little saint. 

Perhaps the best testimony to how beloved she was to the early Church comes a further century forward in Church history, when another orator steps before a crowd, now with a scene opposite that we saw in Carthage. Now, it is St. Ambrose who begins his speech, and it is about a Christian practice far more startling than a pallium: the life of consecrated virginity. Where would you begin if asked to describe and defend the Christian belief that some are called by Jesus to virginity for the sake of the Kingdom of God? St. Ambrose began with little St. Agnes: 

Today is the birthday of a virgin; let us imitate her purity. It is the birthday of a martyr; let us offer ourselves in sacrifice. It is the birthday of Saint Agnes, who is said to have suffered martyrdom at the age of twelve. The cruelty that did not spare her youth shows all the more clearly the power of faith in finding one so young to bear it witness.

There was little or no room in that small body for a wound. Though she could scarcely receive the blow, she could rise superior to it. Girls of her age cannot bear even their parents’ frowns and, pricked by a needle, weep as for a serious wound. Yet she shows no fear of the blood-stained hands of her executioners. She stands undaunted by heavy, clanking chains. She offers her whole body to be put to the sword by fierce soldiers. She is too young to know of death, yet is ready to face it. Dragged against her will to the altars, she stretches out her hands to the Lord in the midst of the flames, making the triumphant sign of Christ the victor on the altars of sacrilege. She puts her neck and hands in iron chains, but no chain can hold fast her tiny limbs. [St. Ambrose, “Concerning Virginity”, Book 1, Chapter 2, Paragraphs 5 and 7]

– Fr. Dominic Rankin will return to St. Agnes, and St. Ambrose, and never-canonized Tertullian next week. Until then, perhaps St. Agnes can stand with St. Therésè of Lisieux as another “little” saint, reminding us that lowliness does not disqualify us from discipleship but rather is a prerequisite for membership in Christ’s Kingdom.

On New Year’s Eve, the Church lost a truly great shepherd as Pope Benedict XVI completed his earthly journey.  Even though I had heard that his health was declining and that he was in his final days, when I read the headline that he had died, I was surprised and saddened to receive the news.  At the same time, it provided me an opportunity to recall with gratitude the impact this humble and faithful shepherd has had on my life as a priest. 

My first encounter with Pope Benedict was in Rome in 2006.  I was there for a sort of personal pilgrimage as I was in the process of applying to the seminary.  Somebody had shared with me that there was to be a candlelight prayer vigil in St. Peter’s Square on April 2 to commemorate the one-year anniversary of the passing of Pope John Paul II.  I decided to go, especially since I knew that Pope Benedict was going to be there.  As he addressed the crowd that night, although I did not understand what he was saying, there was an overwhelming sense of awe that I was looking upon the leader of the Universal Church.  I had followed him pretty closely during his first year as Pontiff, but seeing him in person for the first time was something I will always remember fondly.

Fast forward two years to April 2008 and Pope Benedict was making a visit to the United States.  A generous benefactor of the seminary I was attending made it possible for the entire seminary community to travel by bus from St. Louis to New York to see the Pope.  There was a special gathering that the Holy Father was to have with seminarians on the grounds of St. Joseph Seminary in Yonkers, NY.  We waited in the sun for a few hours, eagerly anticipating his arrival.  When he finally did arrive, he came out on the stage and joyfully greeted the large crowd as we cheered our chief shepherd.  I was probably about 20 yards from the stage, and seeing Pope Benedict so close was very powerful.  I still do not know how to describe it, but what I felt as he looked at us was that he was a very holy and fatherly figure and his joy at seeing these sons of his was evident and authentic.

In 2011, as a newly ordained priest, I had the joy of travelling with a group of high school students to World Youth Day in Madrid, Spain.  At the prayer vigil before the conclusion of the event, more than a million young people gathered in a former airfield waiting for the Holy Father to lead us in prayer.  I remember it being extremely HOT that day, with the sun blazing and no shade in sight.  As the afternoon drew on, clouds started to form and bad weather was threatening.  Most of the group I was with decided to head back to the hotel, as we had a flight the next morning.  I expressed my desire to stay, and another chaperone and a couple hearty souls decided to stay with me.  A heavy storm rolled through just before the Holy Father was about to lead us in Eucharistic Adoration.  I found out later that his advisors encouraged the Holy Father to just cancel the prayer service due to the bad weather, but he was insistent that they continue, though in an abbreviated form.  He came out and exposed the Blessed Sacrament.  Everybody knelt in adoration, and the silence among the crowd brought me chills.  What love this spiritual father showed to his children, not giving up on them and leading them to contemplate the love of God truly present in the Eucharist.

I could say more about how Pope Benedict’s writings before and after becoming Pope has influenced me, but space does not permit me to say all that this spiritual father has meant to me.  I thank God profoundly for the gift of his life and ministry, and I pray that the Lord, in His mercy, will grant him what he long desired, to see the Lord face to face. 

Eternal rest, grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him.  May his soul, and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace!

Father Alford

Feast Day: January 1^st| Mother of God, Theotokus | Patronage: Pregnant Mothers, Natural and Spiritual Mothers,  | Attributes: Pregnant, Holding Child, Pointing to Christ Child, Angels above.

During the octave of Christmas, priests when using the first Eucharistic Prayer, add an additional line when invoking the saints to join in our prayer/offering to the Heavenly Father. After the opening lines when he prays for the Church (especially our Holy Father and local Bishop) and then the prayer called the Memento (when the priest prays for the living members of the Church), he begins the prayer called the Communicantes. It means what it sounds like: this is the first prayer that references the communion we have with all the saints.

You probably recognize the usual opening line: “In communion with those whose memory we venerate …”, but during the Octave (8 days) following the celebration of Christmas, there is an addition to the Communicantes with an extra opening line: “Celebrating the most sacred night [day] on which blessed Mary the immaculate Virgin brought forth the Savior for this world, and in communion with those whose memory we venerate, especially the glorious ever-Virgin Mary, Mother of our God and Lord, Jesus Christ, and blessed Joseph, her Spouse…” It is a splendid addition to our prayer, and if you noticed that the priests used the first Eucharistic Prayer more often during this week, this is probably why! (There are similar additions for Epiphany, during the Octave of Easter, for Ascension, and also Pentecost, so look for your priest to use EP1 [Eucharistic Prayer 1] then too!)

Spend a moment reflecting on that simple line “celebrating the most sacred night on which blessed Mary the immaculate Virgin brought forth the Savior for this world…” and let your heart be overwhelmed again by this truth we believe, and Mary held! During these days of Christmas we recall that our divine communion … our life in the community of the Trinity … our fellowship with the saints, is specifically connected to the moment when Our Lady brought forth her child, Jesus, Our Savior, into this world. We don’t just recognize those saints that are such lights and models and intercessors for us. We don’t just reverence Mary, Queen of All Saints. We approach Mary, with Jesus on her lap, and discover in the manger the source of all the saints. Jesus, as a newborn, has already accomplished what truly transforms anyone into a saint: holding God close.

No one can teach us better how to hold Jesus than the woman He chose to be His mother. This week I give Pope Benedict the last word on how we can learn from her how to do that. This was his homily in 2008, during vespers opening the Solemnity of Mary the Mother of God: “Although many clouds are gathering on the horizon of our future, we must not be afraid. Our great hope as believers is eternal life in communion with Christ and the whole family of God. This great hope gives us the strength to face and to overcome the difficulties of life in this world. This evening the motherly presence of Mary assures us that God never abandons us if we entrust ourselves to him and follow his teachings. Therefore, while we take our leave of 2008 and prepare to welcome 2009, let us present to Mary our expectations and hopes, as well as our fears and the difficulties that dwell in our hearts, with filial affection and trust. She, the Virgin Mother, offers us the Child who lies in the manger as our sure hope. Full of trust, we shall then be able to sing at the end of the Te Deum: “In te, Domine, speravi: non confundar in aeternum—In you, Lord, is our hope: and we shall never hope in vain”. Yes, Lord, in you we hope, today and for ever; you are our hope. Amen!“

– Fr. Dominic Rankin gets to hold Jesus, in the Holy Eucharist, every single day, but sometimes wonders why he hasn’t been utterly transformed yet by this encounter?! It seems, reflecting on these words (and the example) of Pope Benedict, that the saintly-transformation we all seek is not waiting for a greater-gift of God’s self, but a greater-gift of my self in return. And, that is a gift that will take my whole life to give. All the different “expectations … hopes … fears and … difficulties that dwell in our hearts” can only be given as we live through them!

Some of you may be aware that last year, I purchased an older fishing boat.  This acquisition turned into quite a project, one with many lessons learned!  Shortly after bringing the boat home, the priests of the house asked if I had given the boat a name, which to that point I had not even though about doing.  At our annual Fishing with Father event at the Villa Maria, some of our youngsters offered recommendations.  But the name that I finally decided on stems from my love for the Blessed Virgin Mary.  The name I chose was Stella Maris, which is Latin for Star of the Sea.

Just a few weeks ago, I did some winterizing of the boat so that it will (hopefully) be ready for action next Spring when the weather warms up.  It got me thinking a little bit about the title of Mary as Star of the Sea.  Perhaps that title does not immediately evoke thoughts of Christmas, the Octave Day of which we celebrate today, but there is a connection to this title that is very much in the spirit of this season.  The connection is to be found in the hymn to Mary under this title, Ave Maris Stella (Hail, Star of the Sea).  One of the verses goes like this:

Show yourself a Mother,
may the Word divine
born for us thine Infant
hear our prayers through thine.

This verse draws our attention to Mary in her role of giving birth to the “Word divine”, this claiming the rightful title as Mother of God.  In her closeness to her child, we turn to her in confidence asking that she would pray to Him with us and on our behalf.

What strikes me about this verse is the first line: “Show yourself a Mother.”  This is a phrase that I use from time to time when I turn to Mary, asking for her prayers for some particular situation or need.  It could be something that I am struggling with, such as a difficult situation, or the discouragement at not advancing more quickly in the spiritual life.  I ask Mary to show herself to be a Mother to me, helping me with her encouragement and prayers.  As I encounter the sufferings and struggles of the people whom I serve, I sense their need for consolation and peace.  And just as children we turn to our mothers to find that, I ask Mary to show herself a Mother to those individuals in their needs.

On this day when we celebrate Mary’s greatest title, that of being the Mother of God, we also take consolation in the fact that she is also our Mother.  As Jesus was dying on the Cross, He entrusted Mary to us through the Apostle St. John when He said to him: “Behold, your mother.” (John 19:27)

As we look to the year ahead, we have no doubt that there will be joys, but what will prevent us from fully experiencing those joys are the disappointments and setbacks that we will face due to our weaknesses, or due to factors outside of our control.  As we make our way through the potentially rough waters of the sea of life, may our eyes turn to Mary, Star of the Sea, asking her with faith: “Show yourself a Mother.”  Through her prayers, she will help to keep us safe with her Son in the Church and continue to guide us to the safe harbors of eternal life where she awaits us.

Father Alford    

We begin every new year fittingly by celebrating Mary’s motherhood – first of Jesus, but also of each one of us who are part of the Body of Christ! As Jesus told St. John from the cross, “behold your mother.” One of my favorite illustrations of Mary’s maternal care is how she interacted and cared for St. Juan Diego and his uncle during the appearances on Tepeyac hill in 1531. Mary is known from these apparitions as “Our Lady of Guadalupe.” I would like to share a few examples of her words to St. Juan Diego. The main point of her message was that Juan Diego was to ask the bishop to build a church on Tepeyac hill, where she was appearing. Mary said in the first apparition,

I want very much that they build my sacred little house here, in which I will show Him, I will exalt Him upon making him manifest, I will give Him to all people in all my personal love, Him that is my compassionate gaze, Him that is my help, Him that is my salvation. Because truly I am your compassionate Mother, yours and that of all the people that live together in this land, and also of all the other various lineages of men, those who love me, those who cry to me, those who seek me, those who trust in me.

Juan Diego faithfully transmitted the request to the bishop, but he was dismissed and told to come back another time. Dejected, Juan Diego received another apparition from Mary. He suggested that she send someone else. She said,

Listen, my youngest son, know for sure that I have no lack of servants and messengers to whom I can give the task of carrying my breath, my word, so that they carry out my will. But it is necessary that you, personally, go and plead, that by your intercession my wish, my will, become a reality. And I beg you, my youngest son, and I strictly order you to go again tomorrow to see the bishop. And in my name, make him know, make him hear my wish, my will, so that he will bring into being, build my sacred house that I ask of him. And carefully tell him again how I, personally, the ever-Virgin Holy Mary, I, who am Mother of God, sent you as my messenger.

After a second visit to the bishop, he was still not convinced of the authenticity of the apparition. Juan Diego encountered Mary a third time and told her that he needed a sign to be convinced. She told him to return the next day to receive the sign. The day of the fourth apparition, Juan Diego’s plans changed. He had found his uncle gravely ill and spent much of the day bringing a doctor. When it was clear that his uncle was close to death, Juan Diego then went in search of a priest. Mary interrupted his journey with the fourth apparition. She said,

Listen, put it into your heart, my youngest son, that what frightened you, what afflicted you, is nothing; do not let it disturb your face, your heart; do not fear this sickness nor any other sickness, nor any sharp and hurtful thing. Am I not here, I who have the honor to be your Mother? Are you not in my shadow and under my protection? Am I not the source of your joy? Are you not in the hollow of my mantle, in the crossing of my arms? Do you need something more?

In this meeting, Mary arranged various flowers in Juan Diego’s tilma, sending these as the sign for the bishop. Of course, the flowers were not the only sign! Mary’s image appeared on the tilma, which is miraculously still in perfect condition five hundred years later, in the basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City. Mary’s maternal love for Juan Diego and all of his people was shown clearly by this series of apparitions. Mary shows this same maternal love for each of us, too! Mary, Mother of God, and our mother, pray for us!

Feast Day: December 27^th | Titles: the Apostle, the Evangelist, the Theologian, the Divine, the Beloved, of Patmos, son of Zebedee, son of Thunder | Patronage: Authors, Booksellers, Editors, Publishers, Scholars, Theologians, Burn-victims, Poison-victims | Attributes: Youth, Eagle, Chalice (with snake), Scrolls, Books

One confronts a unique question when engaging with the character of St. John: what is the best title to give him? As you can see above, he is referred to under many different characteristics and names throughout the New Testament. Glancing at his Gospel, we find that he never names himself, referring instead to the person named John we know from the other Gospels as “the disciple whom Jesus loved”, with some of the other titles – apostle, evangelist, theologian, divine – coming from the profundity and intimacy that the 4^th Gospel shows us. “Of Patmos” comes from the end of John’s life, when he was exiled to the island of Patmos (a Greek Island), where he received the visions depicted in the book of Revelation. (There is a final title, “the presbyter” sometimes given to St. John, a character mentioned by the early Church historian, Papias, but this seems unlikely given that he lists a John with the other apostles, and then another John “the presbyter”.)

Though all these titles are ones that would be fruitful to reflect upon, I want to turn first to a funnier name that was given to St. John, a nickname from Jesus Himself. In Mark 3:17, while listing those that Jesus called apostles, we find that Jesus called “James the son of Zebedee and John the brother of James (to whom he gave the name Boanerges, that is, Sons of Thunder).” Mark, helpfully, translates for us the term “boanerges”, which was a term that Jesus coined and isn’t found anywhere else in Hebrew or Aramaic literature. Probably a combination of “ben” [son] and “ragesh” [commotion, tumult], it may refer to James and John’s own vehemence and impetuosity, fitting given their clamoring to call down fire upon the inhospitable Samaritan village in Luke 9.  It could also refer back to their actual parents, perhaps their father (Zebedee) had a temper, or we do know from Matthew 20 that their mother (probably Salome, who we see at the cross, and carrying spices/myrrh to anoint Jesus’ body). She is also the one who boldly bring James and John to Jesus to ask him that they would sit at His right and left when He became king (a request that brings them ridicule and animosity from the other apostles).

Whichever way one interprets this nickname, we glimpse in it a closeness and familiarity that perhaps we don’t always visualize between Jesus and His apostles, or Jesus and ourselves. Our Lord called these two firebrands to follow him, with their crazy family, and all the heartache it would bring to Him, and to the rest of the twelve. He befriended them, knowing the arguments, and hardheadedness, and brokenness they would bring. And Jesus did not just endure them, He wanted to be best friends with them (along with Peter, another broken bloke). These were the three who would be invited to witness miracles and teachings that even the other Apostles would not be given, including the transfiguration, catching a glimpse of Jesus as He truly is, a moment that would stay with them the rest of their lives.

And that closeness transformed him! St. John is the only one to tell us about Jesus’ miracle at Cana and raising Lazarus, His conversations with Nicodemus and the Woman at the Well, Christ giving us Himself as the Bread of Life, or when Our Lord washed the apostles’ feet, and opened His heart to them in the incomparable prayers and words in the Garden before His passion. Think of John witnessing each of those moments, hearing those words, being trusted and loved by Jesus that much… And, it was a final gift of intimacy that fully melted John’s heart. The only apostle at the crucifixion, John left Golgotha not forsaken, but entrusted with an unprecedented gift: Jesus’ own mother. “When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son!” Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother!” And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home.”

Love transfigured thunder. Friendship beatified brashness. Jesus wants to do the same for you, and me, and He does it every time we come to the foot of His cross, when we see His Blood poured out again for us.

– Fr. Dominic Rankin has his own dose of thunder in his heart and history, BUT every day Jesus just invites me to give all of it to Him again, and become a son like Him.

For the past few years that I have been here as Rector of the Cathedral, one of the great highlights of the year is the Christmas celebration of Mass During the Night, which we often call Midnight Mass since that is the time at which we celebrate this Mass.  Every aspect of this Mass is a source of great joy.  First and foremost, we celebrate this Mass with all the clergy of the parish, under the leadership of Bishop Paprocki, for whom I have a deep respect and appreciation for as a father, a brother, and a friend.  What a great blessing it is to serve with the other clergy of the parish, including our Parochial Vicar, Father Paul Lesupati, celebrating his first Christmas as a priest!  Although they are only technically In Residence, Father Dominic Rankin and Father Dominic Vahling are an integral part of our parish family, and truly a blessing to live with as brothers in the Cathedral Rectory.  I am also profoundly grateful to have two excellent Deacons serving our parish so faithfully, Deacon Larry Smith and Deacon Rob Sgambelluri.

As the Entrance Procession begins, the music, under the direction of Mark Gifford and his choir and musicians, I am reminded of what a gift we have with our Sacred Music here, a comment I hear regularly.  The music as we process in this night certainly lifts my heart to rejoice in this special night on which we remember Christ’s birth.

As the procession nears the altar, I cannot help but notice the many familiar faces present in the congregation.  While some are visitors, many are the families that make up our wonderful parish, and I give thanks to God for the privilege of being a part of this family.  As I mentioned at Thanksgiving, I never really have the opportunity to celebrate holidays with my physical family, but as I am at these Christmas masses, I know that I am celebrating the day with the family that God, in His goodness, has blessed me with, and no gathering could be more important and beautiful than when we gather as a family for Mass.

As the liturgy proceeds, we get to listen to the Word of God, recounting the story of the Word becoming flesh in Bethlehem nearly 2000 years ago, which reminds us of the Good News of great joy that Our Messiah has come to save us!  Then, right before our eyes, the Word becomes flesh and dwells among us in the Eucharist, of which we are able to partake, thus receiving the greatest of gifts.  All serve to remind me of the gift of our Catholic faith in general, and the particular gift of being a priest to preach this Good News and bring the Eucharist to you each and every day.

After the Mass has concluded and everybody has departed to get some sleep, the church becomes quiet and peaceful.  Whether it is before retiring for the night myself, or early the next morning before anybody arrives, I look forward to spending time in the dim light of the church, praying before the beautiful Nativity scene, adoring the newborn King.  And while I have my own personal Nativity scene in my room, I prefer being here in the church, because the Lord is truly present in the tabernacle, there to adore Him in this local Bethlehem, which in Hebrew means “house of bread.”

As we are at the beginning of this diocesan Year of the Eucharist, may we be renewed this Christmas in our love for this great gift which He offers to us, the gift of His very self in the Eucharist.  May we make it our intention to come and adore Him here more frequently, letting His peaceful presence remind us of the Good News that His light is always present to shine in the darkness of our lives and our world, and to know that the darkness will never overcome His light, so long as we stay close to Him.

In addition to the individuals I mentioned above, I also want to take this opportunity, as I do each year, to express my profound gratitude for the following staff members who help to keep our parish running well, so that we can be that welcome home for our parish family:  Bill Vogt, Kim Gunter, Vicki Compton, Jan Sgambelluri, Haley Dutton, Ryan Dufner, Rusty Overturf, and Sue Sandidge.  

From all of the clergy and staff of the Cathedral, we wish all of you a very Merry Christmas!

Father Alford     

Feast Day: December 26^th | Titles: Deacon, Apologist, Martyr, Protomartyr | Patronage: Altar Servers, Bricklayers, Deacons, Masons, Casket Makers, Headaches | Attributes: Wearing Dalmatic; Holding Censer, Martyr’s Palm, Gospel Book, Miniature Church; Surrounded by Stones.

Good King Wenceslas, it is said, looked out on the Feast of Stephen. The famous carol which begins with those words was composed in the 1830s by John M. Neale (an Evangelical Minister, who, loving Catholic Liturgy, Latin hymns, and religious life, was roundly persecuted by his congregation). The aforementioned Good King looked out from his castle in Bohemia in the 930s, and if he had followed his usual routine, would have already attended Mass, perhaps helping to grind the wheat to make the hosts, and had probably given a few hours to prayer earlier that morning in the darkened and unheated church. The Feast of St. Stephen was celebrated throughout the Church by the 330s when we find him included by name (along with St. John, Ss. Peter and Paul, and often St. John the Baptist) in the Eucharistic Prayers of Rome, Egypt, and Byzantium. But St. Stephen himself barely made it into the 030s. 

Stephen, his name meaning “crown” or “wreath” (the word often used to describe someone of honor) was one of the first deacons of the Church, which in those early years had barely yet expanded past the city of Jerusalem. Certainly, many of those who had been converted by St. Peter’s words on Pentecost had carried the Good News of the coming of the Christ back to their homes, but the Apostles were still mostly just preaching in the Temple, and from house to house in the Holy City. It was because they were so busy preaching the Word that they enlisted the help of several men who had known Jesus Himself to be deacons, servants, of the Apostles, directed especially to the care of the poor, and one of those was Stephen.

How did St. Stephen celebrate Christ’s coming? Well, he was not there for Jesus’ birth, but being a friend and disciple of Our Lord, he certainly had pondered again and again the details of Jesus’ death, and the wonder of all the early disciples at His resurrection. Recall Stephen’s words in Acts 7, where he goes back through the entire history of Israel and points out how God had directed their steps all along – Abraham’s sacrifice, Joseph’s survival, Moses’ encounter at the Bush; the Tabernacle in the Desert and the Temple of David and Solomon – and now, Stephen proclaimed, God had intervened and saved, and directed and fulfilled again, in Jesus, and in an utterly unprecedented way. All those previous encounters with God were only a glimpse, an anticipation, of the closeness that He actually wanted to have with His people! God is not content with a relationship of bushes, and tents, and sacrificial lambs.

The Most High does not dwell in houses made by hands. He dwells in us. He dwells with us. He dwells among us. Jesus, Stephen knew, was real, and is real; was alive, and is alive; had come, and still comes. As that first deacon proclaimed this to the astonishment of the bystanders, the Holy Spirit opened his eyes to see heaven, the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of the Father. Stephen saw the veil pulled back, and the closeness of God revealed, and notice what happens next:

Not just his suffering, the hurled stones, and Saul standing by, but notice that Stephen plays out in his own life and death, the life and death of His Savior. He, like Jesus, spoke of the Son of Man at the righthand of God. He, like Jesus, for that claim, is made an outcast, and taken out of the city to die. He, like Jesus, begs the Heavenly Father to forgive his persecutors. And he, like Jesus, gives His Spirit over to God.

The coming of Christ is not just about God become like us. It is also about us becoming like God. We cannot embrace the child in the manger, if we will not embrace Christ upon the cross. But if we are willing to go to Bethlehem and Jerusalem, to the crib and the cross, to receive the Spirit and a share in Our Lord’s suffering, then we with Stephen, and Saul, and Wenceslaus and Abraham, will see God with us, not just in the past, nor just in heaven, but with us – with you, and me, and our families – today.

– Fr. Dominic Rankin was ordained a deacon, like St. Stephen dedicated to service of the Church, 5 years ago. It was on the feast of St. Wenceslaus, on September 28^th 2017. He was not martyred after giving his first homily, nor has he hiked miles in the snow to deliver food to the hungry. Thankfully, God can make a saint of him yet.

The two holiest people in the history of the Church were not priests, deacons, nuns, or hermits in the desert. No, they were a married couple – Mary and Joseph! I recently saw a quote to this effect by St. Josemaria Escriva. I can’t seem to find the exact quote at the moment, but you get the drift. Sometimes people wrongly assume that the clergy and religious are the holiest people in the Church. While it’s true that being called to the priesthood or religious life is a great gift from God, and a sign of the kingdom of heaven, this does not mean that married or single lay people are called to holiness any less than the clergy. 

In the last part of this semester, I showed a short video series by Sr. Miriam James Heidland to my students at Sacred Heart-Griffin High School. It was called Behold and was a series of meditations about encountering God in family life. I was struck by the meditations which centered on the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. One of the most profound aspects of the Incarnation is that Jesus chose to become a baby in the context of a family, growing up with a mom and dad, and being obedient to them. Maybe this is the lesson that our generation needs to learn from the Christ child. Nobody’s family is perfect, and that’s ok. Our families are an immense gift from God, and our parents are the ones who teach us what God is like – as tender and caring as our mother, as strong and protective as our father. Love starts in the family, and having a faithful family is the best way to pass on the faith to the next generation.

This is my third year of priesthood, and in some ways, it seems like a long time ago that I was ordained and assigned to the Cathedral as a new priest. I probably would not have guessed that I would be here for more than two years, but here I am, and happily so! I am so blessed to be here at the Cathedral with our bishop and three brother priests. We have a great parish staff and parish community to walk with on this journey of faith every day. This year, some of you may have noticed that my responsibilities have shifted a bit. I don’t celebrate quite as many parish Masses as I used to, as I focus my time on ministry at SHG along with studying some canon law online. I still do my best to be present at as many parish events as I’m able to. 

Speaking of families, I have been especially grateful for my family this year. My brother and his wife welcomed their sixth child in November, and I had the privilege of baptizing him on Thanksgiving Day at my home parish! This is now the third niece/nephew that I have baptized. One challenge is that my brother was away for much of this year with the military, so I have had to be more intentional about staying in touch via phone calls. I am blessed to have a sister who lives in town, but I could always be more intentional about staying in touch with family. 

As we celebrate Christmas this year, let’s give thanks for our families, even if they aren’t perfect. Maybe some forgiveness or even some good boundaries could improve relationships. Whatever the case may be, I invite you to consecrate your family to God in your heart. As you pray, imagine yourself with Jesus, Mary, and Joseph in the stable in Bethlehem. Allow them to draw you into their communion of love, centered on Jesus. Mary brought Jesus into this world, and Joseph protected them on their flight into Egypt. They intercede for us now from heaven. May Mary and Joseph pray for us to experience healing and wholeness in our families. Parents – don’t be afraid to let some activities go to focus more on family time, especially time together at Mass and in prayer. If your children don’t experience closeness in the family, where will they experience it? If you don’t teach them to pray, then who will? Don’t be afraid to be who God wants you to be. He will help you to do it with his grace! 

May the Lord Jesus bless you all in this new year of growing in his love. 

“ ’Behold, the virgin shall be with child and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel,’ which means ‘God is with us.’ “ (Matthew 1:23)  We hear these words in the Gospel account today of St. Joseph being visited in his sleep by the angel.  The child in Mary’s womb is the one about whom Isaiah prophesied, the one whom the people of Israel had longed for for centuries.  Now, He is finally coming!

But even before His birth in Bethlehem in Christmas, Emmanuel, God-with-us, the long-awaited Messiah was with Mary and Joseph in an intimate way.  For Mary, the conception of Jesus in her womb meant that God was with her in a way as He grew in her very womb.  Because of his proximity to Mary, Joseph would have also had a unique experience of God already being with him.  Though not visible yet, He was truly present, just as any child is in the womb of their mothers.  From the first moment of conception, human life is there, a fact I have no doubt Mary and Joseph appreciated.

Perhaps I have shared this image with you in a homily or some other way in the past couple of years, but in these final days of Advent, I like to picture Mary and Joseph as they journey together toward Bethlehem.  The journey by foot from Nazareth to Bethlehem likely took a few days.  I can picture them settling in for the night after a long day’s journey.  Since they are not at home, Jospeh is likely very attentive to their surroundings, possibly even keeping watch while his pregnant wife sleeps.  Just imagine Joseph, watching Mary as she slept, seeing her, but also knowing that Emmanuel was there with them, hidden in her womb.  You could say that Joseph was probably one of the first in the history of the Church to pray in adoration in the presence of Jesus Christ – body, blood, soul, and divinity, in form slightly different from the Eucharist, of course, but in the same reality of His being truly and really present.  What peace there must have been in his heart as he looked lovingly on his wife with his physical eyes, and as he looked lovingly on His Savior with his eyes of faith.

In this final week of Advent, I invite you to pray with this image of Joseph gazing upon Mary, and adoring Jesus even though He cannot yet see Him face to face.  And what better place to do this than in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament, when exposed for Eucharistic Adoration, or when He rests in the tabernacle.  We look upon Him, not yet being able to see Him face to face, but believing that He is truly present.  Only when we get to Heaven will we have the privilege of seeing Him in His glory, but until that time, seeing Him as He remains hidden behind the form of bread and wine (but truly present) in the Eucharist, and then receiving Him in Holy Communion, that is enough for us.  For He is Emmanuel, God with us!  Let us rejoice in this beautiful gift, and may His presence among as we approach Christmas grant us that same peace that Mary and Joseph knew as they prepared for His birth.

Father Alford