This week as we commemorated All Soul’s Day, it reminded me a book entitled a journey of the mind to God by Saint Bonaventure.  When I was discerning with Franciscans, I recall reflecting on spirituality of St. Francis and his experience in Mount La Verna in Assisi Italy.

Saint Bonaventure was born in 1221 in Bagnoregio near viterbo, Italy, later join the Franciscan Order about 1240 and after completing his studies in the University of Paris, he taught theology for twelve years, later in 1257 he was elected Minister General of the Order of the Friars Minor at the age of thirty – six years, he remained in the office until 1273, where Pope Gregory made him a Cardinal Bishop of Albano,  he participated in the council of Lyon  where he was instrumental in bringing about the temporary reunion of the Greek Church in Rome. He died at the age of fifty – three on July 5, 1274, and after three centuries of his death, Saint Bonaventure was canonized on 14^th April 1482, he was declared a Doctor of the Church, the bull, “Triumphantis Hierusalem” of Pope Sixtus V, by elevating him to this new dignity, solemnly confirmed his merits as one of the greatest minds of the Christian Middle Ages. 

The Profound spirituality of St. Francis and his experience on the hill of La Verna where he received the stigmata is my motivation in reading this spiritual classic book. The journey of the mind to God as Bonaventure himself explain in the six chapters of the Itinerarium, are concern with search of God. As I meditate on St. Francis experience of the world, his human thoughts, the love of the creatures, Action and the inner experience of his Vision of the seraphim in the form of the Crucified Christ through deep prayer and meditation in solitude; am moved to contemplate the richness of God’s glory through this writing of St. Bonaventure. Also, I realize that it is through devotion to prayer that St. Francis journey towards God. Hence, my driving force of this Spiritual classic book is to find myself journeying towards God as Our Seraphic Father Francis did.

From personal experience it shows that our journey to God is more adventurous than we can describe. We can’t say what we live. Too much happens. Words, images and symbols fail to express our experience. When we try to describe God’s love, we fail miserably. That’s why most of us say nothing about love. Spiritual  geniuses, like St. Bonaventure his experience with God’s love through following the example of the Most blessed Father Francis, he says I breathlessly sought this peace, I a sinner, who have succeeded to the place of that most father after his death, the seventh Minister General of the brothers, thought in all ways unworthy, it happened that by divine will in the thirty-third year after the death of that blessed man I ascended to Mount La Verna as to a quiet place, with the desire of seeking spiritual peace; and staying there, while I meditated on the ascent of the mind to God, amongst other things there occurred that miracle which happened in the same place to the Blessed Francis himself, the vision namely of the winged seraph in the likeness of the Crucified. While looking upon this vision, I immediately saw that signified the suspension of our Father himself in contemplation and the way by which he came to it.

 Bonaventure starts with common experience, and he says that happiness is enjoying the highest good but the highest good is not down here among the creatures. It is above, above means beyond material, upon spiritual being. He says that when we try to ascend spiritually to God we don’t rise very far, so we know that clearly that we cannot rise up above ourselves unless a higher power lifts us up, no matter we plan our spiritual progress, nothing comes of it unless divine assistance intervenes, and the divine assistance is there for those who seek it humbly and devoutly, who sigh for it in this vale of tears by fervent prayer. Prayer, then, is the mother and beginning of the ascent to God. So, let’s pray and say to our God: teach me, O Lord, your way, that I may walk in your truth; direct my heart that it may fear your name. By Praying this way, we receive light to discern the steps of the ascent into God. Some created things are vestiges, other images; some are material, others spiritual; some are temporal, others are everlasting; some are outside us, others within us. In order to contemplate the first principles this is God. Who is most spiritual, eternal, and above us we are invited to pass through His vestiges, which are material, temporal and outside us and this will lead us in path of God. In addition to that we are also invited to enter into our soul, which is God’s image; hence we enter into the path of God, truth of God and knowledge of God.    

As I was Reflecting on this threefold we can become ecstatic over this trinity which remind us of the three fold events, Moses leading the Israel into the desert for three days, (Ex 3:18), then threefold daylights: evening, morning, and noon in order of brightness, and three ways that creatures exists: in matter, in human mind, and in God’s mind which Eternal Art, (Gen 1:3), so Christ provides three substantial aids: bodily, spiritual, and divine. Here I can see Bonaventure is showing us our image and likeness to God in three acts: sensation, spiritual and mind. Bonaventure uses all these reflections to ascend into God in order to love Him, with our whole mind, our whole heart and our whole soul. (Mk 12:13)

While reflecting on the possibility of the soul ascending to God, am motivated by this wondrous event that occurred in the hill of La Verna to Blessed Francis, namely the vision of the winged seraphim in the form of a crucifix. And meditating on this immediately I realized that such a vision offered me a contemplative ecstasy of Father Francis himself and the same time the way that led to it the journey of the mind to God. The six wings of the seraphim thus became the symbol of the six stages that lead man progressively to the knowledge of God through observation of the world and of creatures and through the exploration of the soul itself with its faculties, up to satisfying union with the trinity through Christ, in imitation of St. Francis of Assisi, so this vision of the six- winged seraph in the form of Christ  crucified symbolizes both St. Francis rapture in prayer andthe six stages of illumination by which the soul was disposed to pass into peace by the ecstatic elevations of Christian wisdom which are the stages towards union with God is are purgation, illumination and union. The way however is only through the most burning love of the crucified, who transformed St. Paul, “caught up into the third heaven” (2Cor 12:2), he said that “with Christ I am nailed to the cross, yet I live, now not I, but Christ lived in me” (Gal 2:19).

In addition to that the six wings of the seraphim symbolize the Bonaventure’s responsibility as the minister General of the Franciscan friars, those who are to be effective leaders of others must be men of virtue. Regarding themselves they must have virtues necessary for a blameless life. Regarding their superior, they must have the virtues that lead them to render humble obedience when obedience is required. Regarding their subjects, they may guide them correctly and bring them to grater perfection. He must teach all virtues because of the office he holds must himself possess all virtues in an eminent degree. As a religious I must be resplendent with six extraordinary virtues just as Isaiah says the seraphim that are pre-eminent in the ranks of the heavenly spirits are adorned with six wings. Perhaps therefore the Lord appeared to Our Father Saint Francis in the likeness, in the glorious vision in which he imprinted the stigmata of his passion, to show that those who are to lead his family effectively must have such spiritual wings. The six wings of the seraphim signify: zeal for justice, loving kindness, patience, exemplary life, prudent discernment and devotion to God. Each religious, too, being a responsible for my spiritual welfare and accountable to God in the last judgment needs these wings for himself. He must have them to soar to the things above so as to be fervent in justice, compassionate to fellow men for God’s sake, patient in trials, edifying others by his good example, circumspect in all things, and above all closely united to God by devout prayer. May God protect us in all things, guide us and lead us to a greater perfection and finally bring us to the soar aloft to heaven. May Jesus Christ grant us this Grace to love him and devout oneself to Him as Our seraph Father Francis.  

The Mystical wisdom is revealed by the Holy Spirit, Christ is both the way and the door, and Christ is the stairway and Vehicle, like the throne of mercy over the Art of the covenant and the mystery hidden from the ages. A man should turn his attention to this throne of mercy and should gaze at his Him hanging on the cross, full of faith, hope and charity, devoted, full of wonder and joy, marked by gratitude and open to praise and jubilation. Then such a man will make with Christ a Pasch, that is, a passing over. Through the branches of the cross he will taste the hidden manna, and rest with Christ in the sepulcher, as is possible for one who is still living, what was promised to the thief who hung besides Jesus Christ: today you will be with me in paradise; for the Passover to be perfect, we must suspend all the operations of the mind and we must transform the peak of our affections, directing them to God alone. This is a sacred mystical experience. It cannot be comprehended by anyone unless he or she surrenders himself or herself to it; nor can he or she long for it unless the Holy spirit, whom Christ sent into the world, should come and inflame his innermost soul. Hence the Apostles say that this mystical wisdom is reveal by the Holy Spirit. As I reflect on the last words of St. Bonaventure’s  ‘Itinerarium,” which respond to the question of how one can reach this mystical communion with God, would make one descend to the depth of the heart: if you ask how such things can occur, seek the answer in God’s grace, not doctrine; in the longing of the will, not in the understanding; in sight of prayer not in research; seek the bridegroom not the teacher; God and not man; darkness not daylight; and look not to the light but rather to the raging force that carries the soul of God with intense fervor and glowing love. The fire is God, and the furnace is in Jerusalem, fired by Christ in the ardor of his loving passion. Only he understands this who said: my soul chose hanging and my bones death. Anyone who cherishes this kind of death can see God, for it is certainly true that: No Man can look upon me and live. So, lets us die, then, and enter into the darkness, silencing our anxieties, our passions and all the fantasies of our imaginations. “Let us pass over the crucified Christ from the world to the Father,” (Jn 13:1) so that, when the Father has shown himself to us, we can say with Philip: “it is enough for us.”(Jn 14:8) We may hear with Paul: “my grace is sufficient for you;” (12:9) and we can rejoice with David, saying: my flesh and my heart fail me, but God is the strength of my heart and heritage forever. Blessed be the Lord forever and let all people say: Amen.

The journey of the mind to God, Saint Bonaventure completes his travel guide with a hymn of devoted love, where the perfect journey is describes, if our journey is imperfect, our second chance is purgatory, only then can we enter into Heaven (God). Hopefully we will complete our journey here on earth and die as St. Francis of Assisi died. So let us hope and pray to follow Saint Bonaventure’s steps and die in perfect love.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been writing about our Season of Stewardship and I hope my reflections have been helpful to you as you discern how the Lord is inviting you to exercise your stewardship toward the parish through your time, talent, and treasure.  Although I cannot read all (or any for that matter) of the minds of those in the parish, I am willing to bet there have been some who have thought: “That is a good idea.  I like that idea of stewardship.  I am sure somebody in the parish will step up!”  I think I am safe in saying this because that is how I have thought about invitations to step up in the past.  To be honest, there are still many times when I have that same thought.

To be sure, none of us can do everything, but every one of us can do something to be more invested in our parish.  I say this not from the perspective of desperation that that the parish needs what you have.  While what we bring to our parish family in the form of time, talent, and treasure is necessary for a vibrant parish, we need to make an adjustment to how we think about our relationship to the parish, and the Church more broadly.  It is not primarily that the Church needsyou and me, rather, you and I are the ones who need to the Church.  The Church has been given to us by Christ as the means to our salvation.  The Church has been entrusted with the stewardship of God’s grace through the sacraments which grant us the gift of His life and the hope of eternal life.  It is not that your giving money to the parish or volunteering for a ministry is somehow your doing the Church a favor.  Do not get me wrong, giving of our time, talent, and treasure is very much a gift that is very appreciated, and very helpful to the well-being of our parish.  But the ideal in our giving of these gifts is to do so from that place of gratitude which I began our reflections with a few weeks ago.  We are grateful for the gift of the Church which gives us these many helps to our relationship with the Lord and the promise of eternal life.  From that place of gratitude, and the awareness of how much we depend on God and His Church for everything, how can we not want to give back to Him and His Church?

When I was thinking about entering the seminary, I had a lot of reasons why I could not give my time, and indeed my life, to the Church as a priest.  I was not qualified enough, I was not holy enough.  I had every reason under the sun why it was not possible for me to say ‘yes’ to His invitation.  Somebody else could do it far better than I.  But the Lord spoke clearly to me in a way that has shaped that decision and many thereafter.  He made me aware of the many, many graces He had given to me in my life, how He had cared for me in so many ways, both known and unknown.  In prayer, He said very distinctly to me: “If I have done so many things for you, and now I am asking you to take this step in faith and consider being a priest, the question is not: ‘How can I possibly say yes?’  Rather, the question to ask is: ‘How can I possibly say no?’”

Perhaps as you consider the various reasons why you feel you cannot possibly say ‘yes’ to taking a step in faith toward greater stewardship in whatever form it may be, ask the Lord to reveal to you His many blessings, how He has guided you, how He has blessed you and your family, and how He has been at work in your life in ways known and unknown.  After doing that, I would not be surprised if the Lord prompts you to respond to Him the same way He did (and still does) to me: “After all you have given to me and done for me, and now that you are asking something more of me, how can I possibly say no?”

Father Alford

Feast Day: November 17^th | Patron of Bakers, Brides, Charities, Hospitals, the Homeless, Widows, Third Order of St. Francis, those Falsely Accused. 

Two Hundred years after the saintly King Stephen led Hungary towards Christ, we find another canonized saint about a dozen generations down the line. The daughter of King Andrew II (a descendent of Stephen, though the line is nowhere near a straight one) and his wife Gertrude (a princess from a noble family in Bavaria), Elizabeth was going to endure in her life a concentrated dose of the ruckus that was always erupting between kings, dukes, nobles, and everybody else that wanted power. By the age of four, she was already arranged to marry Louis IV, the future Landgrave of Thuringia. 

Now, in case you haven’t met any landgraves recently, that title means that he was technically at the level of a count in the feudal hierarchy but, unlike a typical count,a landgrave did not have a duke, bishop, or count palatine above him before the King, and ruled over a larger swath of land than a typical count. Basically, this meant that such a nobleman was treated at if he were at the rank of a duke, though was not at all part of the royal family. So, off the 4-year-old Elizabeth goes to Bavaria to be raised in the court of Hermann I of Thuringia, learning the language and culture of her future-husband’s people. Just two years later, Elizabeth’s mother back in Hungary was assassinated. Whether from political jealousy (she may have been inclined toward her German ancestry) or revenge (some member of her family had slighted, attacked, or raped someone in a Hungarian noble family), Gertrude’s death prompted Elizabeth to deepen her life of prayer.

At the age of 14, when Louis was 20, they were married. Now, I think anyone living in our day would raise an eyebrow at the thought of a 14-year-old getting married, as well as to a man 6 years her senior, and, just the thought of arranged marriages themselves.  But,we should recall the basic requirements for a valid marriage: free consent to a faithful and permanent union with your spouse, and sufficient maturity to offer yourself to your spouse in such a way that you can bear children. None of that is necessarily impeded by the arrangement that Elizabeth’s father made with Louis’ father. Both young people were asked to commit their own futures to each other, and both agreed to that commitment. Furthermore, at 14 and 20, thought they were both young, especially Elizabeth, they lived in an age of less complexity, younger responsibility, greater cultural/familial reinforcement, and a higher likelihood of an early death, so on that count too they were both able to marry. 

So, in 1221, they were married and Louis was enthroned as the Landgrave since his elder brother had died. From all accounts their marriage was a happy one. They deeply loved and respected each other. It was at this time that the Franciscans first arrived in the area, and Elizabeth quickly took upon herself the virtues of the man from Assisi especially simplicity, charity, and obedience. Before St. Francis died in 1226, he is said to have wrote her a letter of thanks for her support of his friars there. Elizabeth dedicated herself to the care of the poor around her area, distributing alms, food, even state robes and ornaments to those who needed them. Louis defended her in those acts, even entrusting her with responsibility for their lands and property when he left to join the sixth crusade. 

And then her life changed again, because Louis died from the plague on his way to that crusade. They had only been married for 6 years, and their third child had been born only days before. Now Elizabeth had no authority in the court, and was at the whim of Louis’ brother, the regent for her 5-year-old son. Furthermore, Elizabeth had come to trust a Fr. Konrad of Marburg, who she had chosen as her spiritual director, and had promised to obey. Unfortunately, though learned and ascetical, his zeal led to harshness, even brutality especially towards anyone accused of heresy, for whom he had little mercy, but also for Elizabeth and others who tried to follow his spiritual counsel. Elizabeth would take the money she did get from her dowry to build a hospital in Marburg, where, caring for the sick, she died in 1231 only having reached the age of 24. She would be canonized quickly, especially with so many stories of her love for the poor from her close companions as well as Fr. Konrad. 

– Fr. Dominic Rankin will have to return to the topic of obedience next week. In Elizabeth’s life, we see obedience at play both in her arranged marriage, and in her faithfulness to Fr. Konrad’s direction. What of that was the authentic virtue of obedience, to which we are all called, and what of it was a distortion of obedience? Our world prizes freedom above all else, with much damage and trauma being the result, but how did Elizabeth’s world elevate authority and subservience to too high of a position? What is Christian obedience, Christ-like obedience?

When I entered the seminary in 2006, I was stepping away from a career as an IT consultant, which afforded me some good financial stability as I went from a very comfortable salary to a $100/month stipend.  I used to joke with my former coworkers that I was on the salary reduction plan in my life!  But with just about everything being provided for in the seminary, I had very little need for much.  I am grateful that as I entered into a new financial reality, I was able to reflect on the notion of stewardship in a new way.  Initially, I began to think: “Times are going to be a little leaner financially for the next few years.  I better be careful about how I use my savings.”  But then I received something in the mail from the diocese, it was information about contributing to the Annual Catholic Services Appeal, better known as ACSA.  Before I tossed it aside in the interest of playing it conservative with the limited funds I had, I thought a little more about it.  Although I don’t recall exactly what my prayer was, I decided to contribute, and to accept the challenge of a larger donation.  Although I did not know exactly what all the funds supported, I did know that seminarian education was a part of it.  So as a beneficiary of the generosity of so many throughout the diocese, I figured it was worth my making a sacrifice as well.

Over the years, I have encouraged people to see the importance of contributing to ACSA, for whether we are aware of it or not, every parish is a recipient of the services that our diocesan offices provide, not the least of which is the formation of our seminarians.  These men then become the priests who serve our parishes and bring us the sacraments.  If we value God’s grace (which we better if we call ourselves Catholic), then we have to acknowledge that we are all beneficiaries of what the diocese offers to us.

Fast forward to the present day, and ACSA is no longer an appeal that the diocese asks the faithful to contribute to.  When that was first announced, some people breathed a sigh of relief.  Perhaps they thought: “I don’t have to give money to the diocese any more”…as if “diocese” is a bad word.  I am in my 10^th year of working at our Diocesan Curia, working every day with the people we sometimes just clump together as “the diocese”, questioning their usefulness.  May I, in all humility and with frankness, offer a fatherly correction to anybody who thinks this way.  You may have your ideas of “the diocese”, often formed through less-than-informed views of others.  Perhaps you do not even know a single person who works for “the diocese” (except me of course), but I do, and I can attest to the great quality of our people and the very, very  generous service they provide to me personally, to our Cathedral parish, and to the parishes throughout the diocese, to which we all belong.  We all are the diocese.  Period.  We are not just Cathedral parishioners, we belong to the Diocese of Springfield in Illinois, and we should be very proud of that.

Sorry for the digression – back to ACSA.  So if ACSA is no longer a thing, how do the diocesan offices support themselves?  Each parish now tithes 10% of our monthly income to our diocesan offices so that these services can continue to be offered.  Therefore, when you support our local parish, you are also supporting the work of the whole diocese, which is really important to our understanding of what it means to be members of the Catholic Church.  

Perhaps you had contributed to ACSA in the past, and now that it’s no longer here, you see that as one less contribution.  But may I humbly ask you to direct the funds you would have donated to ACSA to now go to our parish?  And if you were not contributing to ACSA, would you prayerfully consider increasing your weekly gift of treasure to our parish, and by extension, to our diocese?  

Father Alford

Feast Day: November 10^th | Confessor and Doctor of the Church | Patron of Confessors, Popes, Moral Theology, and Vocations

Historians tell us that in the year 452, the 50-something year old pope, who had been the first to take the Papal name Leo [“The Lion”!], made his way to the North of Italy to stop Attila the Hun. Honorious, the roman emperor at that time, faced catechism on all sides and had no armies with which to turn back the ravaging horsemen led by the Hun. Prosper, a Christian chronicler, tells us what happened in his record from just a few years after:

“Now Attila, having once more collected his forces which had been scattered in Gaul [at the battle of Chalons], took his way through Pannonia into Italy. . . To the emperor and the senate and Roman people none of all the proposed plans to oppose the enemy seemed so practicable as to send legates to the most savage king and beg for peace. Our most blessed Pope Leo -trusting in the help of God, who never fails the righteous in their trials – undertook the task, accompanied by Avienus, a man of consular rank, and the prefect Trygetius. And the outcome was what his faith had foreseen; for when the king had received the embassy, he was so impressed by the presence of the high priest that he ordered his army to give up warfare and, after he had promised peace, he departed beyond the Danube.”

What happened in that most famous encounter of one of our most famous Popes? Loved for his courageous leadership over a weakened Rome. Known for his calling the largest ecumenical council, at Chalcedon, where our faith in Christ’s human and divine natures was finally clarified – “Peter has spoken through Leo” they chanted. And treasured for his legendary sermons and writings that continue to shine like gems amidst the mountain of reflections down through the Christian centuries on so many feasts of Our Lord and His saints. … Yet why did Attila turn his armies back north, abandoning hopes of conquering Europe? How did the wizened pope in vestments defend the Christian world from the onslaught of the Huns, who would themselves be conquered by Christ once they settled on the fringes of Christendom in the decades after?

We turn from the historians and the chronicles to receive from ordinary Christians the amazing story. This legend, passed from town to town, of course has been embellished over the ages, yet perhaps it is a bit closer to what actually happened that famous day, for physics and phalanxes did not turn back Attila, but faith. Leo – to tell the tale as a Christian father back then might have told his children –  stepped before the barbarian … and fell to his knees. He did not adore the invader, for he only gave worship to Christ, but he did beseech him: 

“The people of Rome, once conquerors of the world, now kneel conquered. We pray for mercy and deliverance. O Attila, you could have no greater glory than to see suppliant at your feet this people before whom once all peoples and kings lay suppliant. You have subdued, O Attila, the whole circle of the lands granted to the Romans. Now we pray that you, who have conquered others, should conquer yourself. The people have felt your scourge. Now they would feel your mercy.”

Astonished by the meekness of the aged pontiff, Attila stared at the sight of the robed man, alone between his armies and the riches and fame of Rome. And then his gaze was forced aloft. There, on either side of this ambassador of Christ, stood the giant figures of Peter and Paul, each holding flaming swords in defense of the Kingdom of Christ. As Attila watched, he saw row upon row, rank upon rank, host upon host of heavenly defenders, gleaming and glorious against the darkened sky. The Pope kneeling could not be ignored, his humility shook the tyrant, a greater power rested in the aged heart of that lion than that in the might of all the Huns at Attilla’s command. Attila swore to an enduring truce, turned his armies north, and left Italy and all that could have been conquered there to the authority, and leadership, of Leo, and Christ.

Though we are not certain of Leo’s exact words that evening to Attila, perhaps this quotation of his reminds us that the same power that was at work through him on that occasion is that which God desires all of us to wield in our own battles: “If indeed we are the temple of God and the Holy Spirit lives in our hearts…we must work with much vigilance to make the chamber of our heart not unworthy of so great a guest.

– Fr. Dominic Rankin simply takes for his prayer this week an ancient hymn of praise to God for this Great pope Leo. Perhaps pray it as you look upon this pope as displayed in one of the windows of our Cathedral! “You were the Church’s instrument / in strengthening the teaching of true doctrine; / you shone forth from the West like a sun dispelling the errors of the heretics. / Righteous Leo, entreat Christ God to grant us His great mercy. // O Champion of Orthodoxy, and teacher of holiness, / The enlightenment of the universe and the inspired glory of true believers. / O most wise Father Leo, your teachings are as music of the Holy Spirit for us! / Pray that Christ our God may save our souls! // Seated upon the throne of the priesthood, glorious Leo, / you shut the mouths of the spiritual lions. / With divinely inspired teachings of the honored Trinity, / you shed the light of the knowledge of God up-on your flock. / Therefore, you are glorified as a divine initiate of the grace of God.”

If you have not already, you will soon be receiving a letter in the mail from me regarding our annual Season of Stewardship, of which I wrote in last week’s bulletin.  With that said, those who read this bulletin article may not be receiving a letter, either because you are just visiting or because you are not officially registered at the Cathedral.  So if you do not receive a letter, you are not off the hook!

One of the themes that I have presented to the parish over my time here is the notion that we are a family of faith.  Although this is the title of our catechetical program for our grade school and high school students and their families, it is more than just a program, more than just a title.  From time to time, I have people asking me where home is.  I always struggle to answer this – I grew up in Troy, IL (southern part of our diocese), my family moved to Wisconsin when I was in college, my parents now live part time in Wisconsin and part time in Texas, and pretty much all of my family lives outside of the diocese, with the exception of a few distant relatives.  A common reaction to my trying to explain this is empathy for how difficult that must be, not being able to see family very often, not being able to spend holidays with them.  Can it be difficult? Absolutely!  But am I sad?  Not a bit.  For my entire priesthood, home has always been where I have been assigned, and I believe that has been a great grace that has enabled me to be more attached to a parish family than if I had the presence of my own family close by.  Don’t get me wrong, I would love to have my family closer, but I do not feel disappointed at all with the situation that I have.  Each parish has welcomed me into their family, and I have done my very best to be a good member of that family, such that I have tried to be generous with my time, the gifts God has given me, and yes, even my money.  And I have been very joyful in being able to give of these because when they are given for those we love, the cost it not really an issue.

Why do I share this with you?  Because I want you to know how thankful I am to be a part of our Cathedral Parish family.  I love it when I get to celebrate Mass and see all of you, sharing the one person I love more than anything else, Jesus Christ!  It’s why I do my best to be around to distribute Holy Communion at masses that I am not celebrating and greeting you after as many masses as possible.  It is because I love being around you, and I love being able to serve you.

My great prayer for this parish is that we see one another as a family.  It is my prayer that you love being around this family we have here.  You all have your own families, and I know you want what is best for them.  As your spiritual father, you are my family, and I want what is best for you, to have a sense of belonging, an awareness of being loved by Jesus, and a desire to be more fully invested in this family.  Many of you are indeed invested in this parish family, and that brings my heart so much joy.  But I want more for our family.  When I appeal for us to pray about our stewardship, my prayer is for you to be here, to make that commitment to pray with your parish family, and to pray for your parish family.  If all that came from this appeal for the Season of Stewardship was having more of you here to celebrate each Sunday as a family, I would be a very pleased spiritual father.  And just by showing up, realizing what a gift it is to be a part of this family, I have no doubt you will authentically desire  to share yourselves more generously with your family whom you love and who loves you, for we are all united together as brothers and sisters in the one love of God Himself for us as His beloved sons and daughters.

Father Alford

In our previous bulletin we have been discussing on the theological virtues of faith, hope, and charity(love). These theological virtues put us in contact with God, enabling us, to know Him, trust in His promises and goodness, and love Him. As we reflect on theological virtues, there need for additional, moral virtues which concerns self-control and our relationship with others. There are many moral virtues but there four cardinal virtues under which all other moral virtues may be classified as: Prudence, Justice, fortitude, and temperance. Many times, in our daily activities, whether we are at home, workplace, or Church, we have used this word, Prudence, knowingly, or unknowingly when we are conversing or making the decision.  

Today we are going to discuss one of the four Cardinal Virtues, which is Prudence. Among these, Prudence is a mother of all other virtues. What is Prudence? I do recall my mother telling me always before you act or make any decisions, be prudent. So, the Catechism of the Catholic Church defines prudence as follows: “prudence disposes the practical reason to discern, in every circumstance, our true good and to choose the right means for achieving it.” (CCC, 1835). 

Additionally, St. John Paul II, in his Papal audience, explains Prudence by saying that “the prudent man, who strives for everything that is good, endeavors to measure everything, every situation, and his whole activity according to the yardstick of the?  moral good. So, a prudent man is not one who as is often meant can wangle things in life and draw the most significant profit from it; but one who is able to construct his whole life according to the voice of upright conscience and according to the requirements of sound morality” (Pope St. John Paul II, General audience, Wednesday, 25 1978).  

Prudence is known to be the mother of all virtues because it is the first step towards working to be a good human being.  According to Josef Pieper claims that none but the prudent man can be just, brave, and temperate, and the good is a man who is able to make the right decision; he or she must be able to know what is good and what is not good. So, Prudence is being able to recognize what is good and always being able to act in a good way. 

Prudence in our daily life activities has to shape us. So, how and when can we know that a person is prudent? A prudent person looks at the concrete reality of a situation with apparent, honest objectivity; references and applies the moral truths for example, the Ten Commandments or the precepts of the Church. Moreover, Prudence also seeks to accomplish the action in a good way doing what is right in a good way. Prudence helps us prudently to care of others through counsel we give. Moreover, thanks to the virtue of Prudence, one is able to judge rightly and reads the signs of his/her time. Prudence helps the intellect see the right thing to do and to choose the right means for achieving it. Wise choice involves taking good counsel while acquiring knowledge from the past and present. In the same line, we are not simply or only acting individuals, but we need good and prudent friends to help us with counsel, choices, and decision making. 

In short, in order to know what to seek and avoid, Prudence is needed to be applied in our daily life as Christians. To pursue the common good for all, Prudence is necessary.  Prudence helps us to see what aids the human salvation and what limits our progress.   As the book of proverbs puts it: “The heart of wise make their mouths prudent, and their lips promote instructions (Prov 16:23).

For further reading on the four Cardinal virtues by Josef Pieper can be found on online: fourcardinalvirt012953mbp.pdf.

Feast Day: October 22^nd | Patron of Popes, Families, Youth, Laborers, Actors, Athletes, Human Life, Poland, the Elderly, and those with Parkinson’s 

This week, I recall Pope John Paul II’s famous words at his homily during the Mass for the inauguration of his pontificate (by the way, isn’t it awesome that so many of the substantial moments of our Catholic life are situated within the Holy Mass!  Tells us something about where the Church draws its strength and center.):

The new Successor of Peter in the See of Rome, today makes a fervent, humble and trusting prayer: Christ, make me become and remain the servant of your unique power, the servant of your sweet power, the servant of your power that knows no eventide. Make me be a servant. Indeed, the servant of your servants. Brothers and sisters, do not be afraid to welcome Christ and accept his power. Help the Pope and all those who wish to serve Christ and with Christ’s power to serve the human person and the whole of mankind. Do not be afraid. Open wide the doors for Christ. To his saving power open the boundaries of States, economic and political systems, the vast fields of culture, civilization and development. Do not be afraid. Christ knows “what is in man”. He alone knows it.

And now an explanation JPII gave of these words in Crossing the Threshold of Hope:

When on October 22, 1978, I said the words “Be not afraid!” in St. Peter’s Square, I could not fully know how far they would take me and the entire Church. Their meaning came more from the Holy Spirit, the Consoler promised by the Lord Jesus to His disciples, than from the man who spoke them. Nevertheless, with the passing of the years, I have recalled these words on many occasions. The exhortation “Be not afraid!” should be interpreted as having a very broad meaning. In a certain sense it was an exhortation addressed to all people, an exhortation to conquer fear in the present world situation, as much in the East as in the West, as much in the North as in the South. Have no fear of that which you yourselves have created, have no fear of all that man has produced, and that every day is becoming more dangerous for him! Finally, have no fear of yourselves! 

Why should we have no fear? Because man has been redeemed by God. When pronouncing these words in St. Peter’s Square, I already knew that my first encyclical and my entire papacy would be tied to the truth of the Redemption. In the Redemption we find the most profound basis for the words “Be not afraid!”: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son” (cf. Jn 3:16). This Son is always present in the history of humanity as Redeemer. The Redemption pervades all of human history, even before Christ, and prepares its eschatological future. It is the light that “shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (cf. Jn 1:5). The power of Christ’s Cross and Resurrection is greater than any evil which man could or should fear.

Finally, I leave all of us with the reflection John Paul II had prepared for Divine Mercy Sunday of 2005, though he died on the eve of that feast, (with his final words being the whispered prayer: “let me go to the house of the Father”) and so this, his final message, was given after the Mass said for the repose of his soul:

Dear Brothers and Sisters! The joyful Easter Alleluia resounds also today. Today’s Gospel page of St. John underlines that the Risen One, on the night of that day, appeared to the Apostles and “showed them his hands and his side” (John 20:20), that is, the signs of the painful Passion printed indelibly on his body also after his Resurrection. Those glorious wounds, which eight days later he made the incredulous Thomas touch, reveal the mercy of God “for God so loved the world that he gave his only Son” (John 3:16). This mystery of love is at the heart of today’s liturgy, Sunday “in Albis,” dedicated to the worship of Divine Mercy. To humanity, which at times seems to be lost and dominated by the power of evil, egoism and fear, the risen Lord offers as a gift his love that forgives, reconciles and reopens the spirit to hope. It is love that converts hearts and gives peace. How much need the world has to understand and accept Divine Mercy! Lord, who with [your] Death and Resurrection reveal the love of the Father, we believe in you and with confidence repeat to you today: Jesus, I trust in you, have mercy on us and on the whole world.

– Fr. Dominic Rankin has found these simple words “Jesus, I trust in You” to be perhaps the most potent prayer he can say. No matter what is happening – a fear or worry, a suffering or loss, a sleepless night or lengthy marathon, in Adoration, on Amtrak, in my office … – every single one of those moments is clarified, sanctified, and filled with peace simply by surrendering it to Jesus with that phrase: “Jesus, I trust in You.”

Over the next few weeks, you will be receiving information about our annual Season of Stewardship.  Perhaps you are asking – What is that?  Don’t worry too much if that term sounds new to you, as it is only really two years old, which in Church time, might as well be brand new!

Defined simply, Season of Stewardship is the opportunity for each parish household to pray and discern their commitment to stewardship as a way of life.  Although I cannot read minds, I am fairly confident that as you see that word “stewardship”, many of you are thinking that this is about asking for money.  If I could humbly, yet firmly push back on that, I would say that if that is what you are thinking, then your understanding of stewardship is unfortunately limited.  But thanks be to God that you are reading this to understand more clearly what stewardship is in reality!

One of the best definitions I have ever heard on stewardship comes from the Diocese of Wichita, and they define it succinctly:  Stewardship is the “grateful response of a Christian Disciple who recognizes and receives God’s gifts and shares these gifts in love of God and neighbor.”  Notice the first word in this definition – grateful.  Gratitude to God for the gifts that He has given to us must be the beginning of any discussion about stewardship.  Every gift that we have in our lives is just that, a gift.  A gift that has been received, not one that we own.  This is where we as Christians should be different from the rest of society.  It is easy to see that what we have – our time, our talents, our bodies, our possessions, our career, our money – is something we have earned, something that we deserve, something that we own.  And while it is true that we may have worked hard to achieve and acquire things, all is a gift from God.  If it were not for God’s grace and His willing us into existence, we would not have any of what we have.  As Christians, perhaps we know this is what we should believe, but do we really believe that?  Perhaps we should make that prayer of the Apostles from the Gospel a few weeks ago: “Increase our faith!” (Lk 17:5)

In the brief definition of Season of Stewardship that I give above, I say that this is an opportunity for all of us to pray and discern our commitment to our parish.  It is not accidental that we start with prayer.  And the beginning of that prayer is what I just mentioned – gratitude.  So for now, I am not going to say anything more about discerning what your stewardship to our parish might look like.  I simply want you to start with prayer – specifically the prayer of gratitude.  Spend some time personally praying about the gifts that are in your life.  Write them down if it helps.  As you reflect on those gifts, thank God specifically for each item.  Maybe keep that list for the next couple of weeks and go back to it every day or two, repeating the process of thanking God for each gift, adding new gifts as you become aware of them.

As an added challenge if you are willing to accept it, pay careful attention to each time you use words such as “my” or “mine” and consider, at least in your mind replacing that with “God’s”.  Whether it’s “my day”, “my time”, “my schedule”, “my plan”, “my money”, or “my life.”  When we see these things not as mine, but God’s, it might cause us to consider them differently.  Perhaps it will make us feel uncomfortable initially, but staying with that thought, it can open the door to an awareness of how all of those things we consider “mine” are in fact gifts from Him, gifts for which we can and should give Him thanks, for as we say at each Mass, to give Him thanks is “right and just.”

Father Alford

Feast Day: October 22^nd | Patron of Popes, Families, Youth, Laborers, Actors, Athletes, Human Life, Poland, the Elderly, and those with Parkinson’s 

This week, St. Pope John Paul II on finding the Holy Father wanted him to become a bishop, from Rise, Let us be on Our Way:

The year is 1958. I’m on a train traveling toward Olsztyn with my group of canoeists. We are beginning the vacation schedule that we have been following since 1953: part of the vacation we are to spend in the mountains, most often in the Bieszczady mountains, and part on the lakes in the Masuria region. Our destination is the Łyna River. That’s why—it is July—we are on the train bound for Olsztyn. I say to our so-called admiral— as far as I can remember at that time it was Zdzisław Heydel: “Zdzisław, I’m going to have to leave the canoe because I have been summoned by the Primate [since the death of Cardinal August Hlond in 1948, Cardinal Stefan Wyszyński was the Primate] and I must go to see him.” The admiral said: “That’s fine, I’ll see to it.” And so, when the time came, we left the group to go to the nearest railroad station, at Olsztynek. 

Knowing that I would have to see the Primate during our time on the Łyna River, I had deliberately left my good cassock with friends in Warsaw. It wouldn’t be right to visit the Primate wearing the old cassock I brought along on our canoe trips (on such trips I always brought a cassock and a complete set of vestments so that I could celebrate Mass). So I set off, first in the canoe over the waves of the river, and then in a truck laden with sacks of flour, until I got to Olsztynek. The train for Warsaw left late at night. I had brought my sleeping bag with me, thinking that I might be able to catch a few winks in the station and ask someone to wake me when it was time to board the train. There was no need for that in any event, because I didn’t sleep. 

In Warsaw I arrived on Miodowa Street at the specified hour. … As I entered the office of the Primate, he told me that the Holy Father had named me an auxiliary bishop to the archbishop of Kraków. In February of that same year (1958) Bishop Stanisław Rospond had died. He had been auxiliary bishop of Kraków for many years during the reign of the prince archbishop of Kraków, Cardinal Adam Sapieha. Upon hearing the words of the Primate informing me of the decision of the Holy See, I said, “Your Eminence, I am too young; I’m only thirty-eight.” But the Primate said, “That is a weakness which can soon be remedied. Please do not oppose the will of the Holy Father.” So I said, “I accept.” “Then let’s have lunch,” the Primate concluded. …

At the conclusion of this audience, of such great importance for my life, I realized that I could not return immediately to my canoeing friends: first I had to go to Kraków to inform Archbishop Eugeniusz Baziak, my Ordinary. While waiting for the night train to Kraków, I spent many hours in prayer at the chapel of the Ursuline Sisters in Warsaw on Wiślana Street. … The next day I went to see Archbishop Eugeniusz Baziak at 3 Franciszkańska Street and handed him a letter from the Cardinal Primate. I remember it as if it were today. The Archbishop took me by the arm and led me into the waiting room where there were priests sitting, and he said: “Habemus papam”—“We have a Pope.” In the light of subsequent events, one might say that these words were prophetic. When I said to the Archbishop that I would like to return to Masuria to join my friends who were canoeing on the Łyna River, he answered: “I don’t think that would be appropriate.” Somewhat troubled by this reply, I went to the Church of the Franciscans and prayed the Way of the Cross. I often went there for this purpose because the stations are original, modern, painted by Józef Mehoffer. Then I went back to Archbishop Baziak renewing my request. I said, “I appreciate your concern, Excellency, but I would still ask you to allow me to return to Masuria.” This time he answered: “Yes, yes, by all means. But I ask you, please,” he added with a smile, “come back in time for the consecration.” 

So that very evening I again boarded the train for Olsztyn. I had with me Hemingway’s book The Old Man and the Sea. I read it all night. Once I dozed off. I felt somewhat strange . . . When I arrived at Olsztyn, my group was already there. They had canoed down the Łyna River. The admiral came for me to the station and said, “So, did Uncle become a bishop?” To this I said yes. He said: “That is exactly what I imagined in my heart, and what I wished for you.” As a matter of fact, shortly beforehand, on the occasion of my tenth anniversary of ordination, he had wished me this. When I was named a bishop, I was hardly twelve years a priest. 

I had slept little. When I reached my destination, I was tired. First, however, before going to rest, I went to church to celebrate Mass. The church was under the care of the university chaplain, Father Ignacy Tokarczuk, who was later named a bishop. After a short rest, I awoke and realized that the news had already spread, because Father Tokarczuk said to me: “Oh, the new bishop. Congratulations.” I smiled and went to join my canoeing friends. When I took the paddle, I again felt somewhat strange. The coincidence of dates struck me: The date of my nomination was July fourth, the anniversary date of the blessing of Wawel Cathedral. It is an anniversary that I have always cherished in my heart. I thought this coincidence must have some special meaning. I also thought maybe this was the last time I could go canoeing. Later though, I should mention, it turned out that there were many opportunities for me to go swimming and canoeing on the rivers and lakes of Masuria. As a matter of fact, I continued until the year 1978. 

– Fr. Dominic Rankin has also found that some of the most beautiful moments of his priesthood have happened outside: spontaneous requests for confession, Masses in rugged “cathedrals” of trees and rocks and sunshine, conversations while hiking or running, sublime prayer next to streams or lakes.