Feast Day: December 13^th  

Today I want to tell the story of a sketch.  Of course, it has to do with the saint we celebrate this week – St. John of the Cross – but I think it captures so much of his heart and mysticism and sanctity, that it offers all of us all a chance to follow after him on the road to heaven.

Juan was born in Spain in 1542, which means he entered a divided and violent world.  Martin Luther would die 4 years later, unreconciled to the Catholic Church, and having set in motion the protestant reformation that would fracture Christianity, and insight the bloody religious then starting around Europe.  Of course, much of Luther’s complaints stemmed from real abuses that marred the mystical body of Christ, but, as always, the call of Christians is to assist Our Lord in building up the Church, never in tearing it asunder.  Don’t abandon, assist.  Don’t complain, cleanse.  Don’t reject, reform. Don’t leave, love.  

That call was heard by John of the Cross.  It was heard by many saints that appeared during these trying years.  St. Philip Neri, St. Charles Borromeo, St. Francis Xavier, St. Ignatius of Loyola, St. Thomas More, St. John Fisher, St. Francis de Sales, St. Peter Canisius, Pope St. Pius V, St. Theresa of Avila…  All these and more would be God’s beacons of sanctity in the midst of a terrible century.  God never leaves, He just keeps loving.

But back to St. John, and his drawing.  At the age of 21, John entered the Carmelite Order and began his study of theology and philosophy, culminating in his ordination as a Carmelite priest in 1567.  Seeing the depravity and laxity rampant around him, John seriously considered leaving them to become a Carthusian, but God had other plans.  The young priest encountered a Carmelite nun, Teresa of Ávila, and was captivated by her dream to reform the Carmelite order.  Don’t leave, love.

In their efforts to reform the order, John (now “of the Cross”) would be suppressed, then imprisoned, even tortured, and would travel many thousands of kilometers founding and leading the struggling communities, in the end being completely exhausted by his efforts.  But finally in 1580, the Discalced Carmelites (literally meaning “un-shod”, referring to their taking up the original penance of the Carmelites to not wear shoes) were approved as a new branch of the order by Pope Gregory XIII.  It was during these, his final years that he composed Living Flame of Love, his shortest poem, but hauntingly poignant.  If I might be bold, it could also be summarized: Don’t leave, love.

1. Oh, living flame of love
   That tenderly woundest my soul in its deepest centre,
   Since thou art no longer oppressive, perfect me now if it be thy will,
   Break the web of this sweet encounter.
2. Oh, sweet burn! Oh, delectable wound!
   Oh, soft hand! Oh, delicate touch
   That savours of eternal life and pays every debt!
   In slaying, thou hast changed death into life.
3. Oh, lamps of fire,
   In whose splendours the deep caverns of sense
   Which were dark and blind with strange brightness
   Give heat and light together to their Beloved!
4. How gently and lovingly thou awakenest in my bosom,
   Where thou dwellest secretly and alone!
   And in thy sweet breathing, full of blessing and glory,
   How delicately thou inspirest my love!

But what about that sketch?  For that we have to go back to those first years after meeting Teresa.  He had just barely decided not to become a Carthusian.  He had yet to be beaten by his own brothers.  He had yet to crisscross Spain.  And yet, as he wedged himself in the choir loft in Ávila, his prayer carried him to the cross, and then up over it, to see it as the Father did. 

Christ hangs in darkness and suffering, spurned and provoked … but He did not leave, He loved.

The Father glances down, His greatest gift rejected … but He didn’t leave, He loved.

The Spirit is poured forth, upon a world torn and terrible … but He didn’t leave, He loved.

And so did John, and so must we.

– Fr. Dominic Rankin often simply looks at the crucifix if prayer isn’t easy, and he recently discovered that the Heavenly Father, speaking to St. John, Himself encourages just that: “Fasten your eyes on him alone because in him I have spoken and revealed all, and in him you will discover even more than you ask for and desire … If you desire me to answer with a word of comfort, behold my Son subject to me and to others out of love for me, and afflicted, and you will see how much he answers you.” [Ascent of Mt. Carmel, St. John of the Cross, chapter 22, 5-6]

With the recent mitigations in place to slow the spread of COVID-19 in our state, we had to make the difficult decision to suspend several of our in-person activities for Faith Formation, including our Family of Faith program for our children.  But we can see God’s Providence working in having our parish switch to this model last year, giving our families the experience to undertake the important work of faith formation in their homes, the domestic church.  Even though we are not gathering physically as a group, we continue to move forward!

As we move into December, the sacrament of the month is the Sacrament of Confirmation.  According to the Catechism of the Catholic Church, Confirmation completes the grace of Baptism, so it is only logical that we focus on this sacrament after having just completed a month with Baptism.  I would like to focus on what is called the “essential rite” of Confirmation, which is what is absolutely necessary for the sacrament to be conferred validly.  Here is what the Catechism says: 

The essential rite of the sacrament follows. In the Latin rite, “the sacrament of Confirmation is conferred through the anointing with chrism on the forehead, which is done by the laying on of the hand, and through the words: ‘Accipe signaculum doni Spiritus Sancti‘ [Be sealed with the Gift of the Holy Spirit.].” (CCC 1300)

The use of Sacred Chrism for this sacrament is worth reflecting on for a moment.  This holy oil is used anytime the Church consecrates somebody for a special mission.  At Baptism, the newly baptized anointed with Sacred Chrism and is set apart as a child of God, called to live a life of holiness and to one day be in Heaven.  Confirmation sets us apart for the spreading and defending of the faith, aided by the new outpouring of the Gifts of the Holy Spirit.  Bishops and Priests are anointed with Sacred Chrism at their ordination, signifying that they are set apart for their participation in the ministerial priesthood of Jesus Christ in service to the people of God, especially though the celebration of the sacraments. 

Sacred Chrism is also used to consecrate things.  In particular, it is used to consecrate churches and altars, for these are set aside for the purpose of offering a sacred place in which to worship God and to offer the sacrifice of the Mass.  Just this past week, on December 2, we celebrated the Anniversary of the Re-Dedication of our Cathedral.  One of the greatest parts of that ceremony was the consecration of the new altar.  I remember vividly that moment of the Mass as Archbishop Lucas spread the Sacred Chrism all over the altar, creating that beautiful aroma that comes from that holy oil.  Since that day, the altar has served its purpose of being a place set apart for God.  May we recall the day of our Confirmation (if we have been confirmed) and ask for the grace to rededicate ourselves to living our vocation to be set apart for the spreading and defending the faith in our daily lives, confident of the power of the Gifts of the Holy Spirit to assist us.

Father Alford     

This month we are focusing on the Sacrament of Confirmation in our bulletin columns. For several years now, the parishes of our diocese have been in the process of implementing the “restored order” of the Sacraments of Initiation. Confirmation is the second sacrament of Initiation, which is why it is more appropriate to receive it before receiving first Holy Communion. 

There is a mistaken understanding that some hold in our Church today, which comes from the meaning of the word “Confirmation.” Confirmation in this sense means a strengthening or fortifying. It’s like putting a spiritual suit of armor on a new Christian! Because Confirmation was given around the time of adolescence for several decades in the United States, the understanding has been flip-flopped. I remember at the time I was Confirmed that my classmates and I understood that we were confirming our belief in Jesus. This is obviously a very good thing to do, and one that we do every day as Christians. However, receiving a sacrament is not about what we do for God, but what God does for us. 

This misunderstanding is not a new idea in the Church, and even the Council of Trent (around 1550) spoke about this. One of the statements of this ecumenical council was, “If anyone says that the Confirmation of those who have been baptized is a catechism whereby those near adolescence give an account of their faith in the face of the Church, let him be anathema.” This is a normal formula used by Church councils to explain that an idea is not in accord with the Catholic Faith. This statement was a response to some Christians who believed that while Baptism was a sacrament, Confirmation was not a true sacrament and was simply a way for youth to express their faith. 

As with all the sacraments, it is important to keep in mind that the sacraments impart God’s divine life to us. Expressing our faith is, of course, an essential part of the Christian life, but sacraments are all about receptivity. Some Christian traditions give babies Confirmation in the same ceremony as Baptism, which really emphasizes the receptive aspect of the sacraments! 

More and more dioceses are moving to implement the restored order of Baptism, Confirmation, and Eucharist around the country. Hopefully younger children receiving this great sacrament will be more receptive than older teenagers who have often already checked out of their faith life or abandoned it altogether. Every day, we should ask the Holy Spirit to be with us and fill with his love which was increased and strengthened in our reception of the sacrament of Confirmation.

Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful, and enkindle in them the fire of your love. Send forth your Spirit, and they shall be created, and you shall renew the face of the earth. 

Feast Day: December 7^th  

On April 4^th in the year 397, early on Easter Saturday, the Bishop Ambrose of Milan was dying.  His life was marvelous.  He had been elected to the episcopacy by popular acclaim (before he was baptized!  He had to receive all his sacraments on top of each other before being ordained bishop), fought heresies (Arianism especially, which said Jesus was not truly God), stood up to emperors (Theodosius I, for persecuting Jews and massacring the Thessalonians), and brought about the conversion of St. Augustine (of course, with the help of St. Monica’s prayers). 

I could speak on any of those tremendous accomplishments, but today I rejoice to stick to a simpler part of his life.  As he lay on his deathbed, Paulinus, his deacon, who was with him in his final moments, records: “we saw his lips moving … but we could not hear his voice” [St. Paulinus, Life of Ambrose].  It would not be a noticeable comment – perhaps these were Ambrose’s final whispered prayers – except for the fact that St. Augustine had written a similar line about Ambrose, his great mentor and friend, many years before: 

When [Ambrose] read, his eyes scanned the page and his heart sought out the meaning, but his voice was silent and his tongue was still. Anyone could approach him freely and guests were not commonly announced, so that often, when we came to visit him, we found him reading like this in silence, for he never read aloud.
[St. Augustine, Confessions, Book 3, Chapter 6]

At that time, surprisingly enough, it was uncommon for anyone to read silently.  We have a few records of others in the ancient world who did so, but otherwise, the vast majority of everyone who could read, only did so out loud.  Even if someone were just reading by themselves, they would still vocalize the words, or a person would have someone else read to them.

Now, that would remain just an interesting factoid except for the tremendous fact that Christianity is a religion of the Word, and Ambrose’s practice came from his love for the Word of God.  Augustine also tells us that Ambrose, when he was consecrated bishop, immediately sold practically all the possessions he had (as an orator and governor) except for his books.  He was a very literate and studious man, but as a bishop, and saint-in-the-making, this was his choice to prioritize the Word of God over even all the other books that he treasured.  His labor over the books of scripture each day – the Psalms, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Matthew, Luke… – these were His daily sustenance and informed every other aspect of his life.  His courage, eloquence, simplicity, wisdom, hymnody, and generosity … all flowed from his being saturated by the Bible.

We call Ambrose a doctor of the Church because this biblical foundation to his life flowed forth in his teaching, and his composition of some of the greatest hymns the Church has.  Both are splendid tapestries of word, woven from the threads of scripture, and they have given Ambrose the nickname “honey-tongued” (for this reason he is the patron of beekeepers…  Things you learn!)  I will leave you with one of his best hymns, perfect for our continued meditation this Advent.  (The language is even more splendid in its original Latin!)

Veni, Redemptor Gentium

1. Come, thou Redeemer of the earth,
and manifest thy virgin-birth:
let every age adoring fall;
such birth befits the God of all.

2. Begotten of no human will,
But of the Spirit, Thou art still
The Word of God in flesh arrayed,
The promised fruit to men displayed.

3. The virgin womb that burden gained
With virgin honor all unstained;
The banners there of virtue glow;
God in His temple dwells below.

4. Forth from His chamber goeth He,
That royal home of purity,
A giant in two-fold substance one,
Rejoicing now His course to run.

5. From God the Father He proceeds,
To God the Father back He speeds;
His course He runs to death and hell,
Returning on God’s throne to dwell.

6. O equal to the Father, Thou!
Gird on Thy fleshly mantle now;
The weakness of our mortal state
With deathless might invigorate.

7. Thy cradle here shall glitter bright
And darkness breathe a newer light,
Where endless faith shall shine serene,
And twilight never intervene.

 – Fr. Dominic Rankin always struggles to answer the question “what kind of music do you like?” I like many classical pieces, especially orchestral works, certainly sacred music and Gregorian chant, Christian singers, some pop pieces, many different vocal groups/individuals, especially acapella and what is unhelpfully described as “easy listening”.  What is a song that you are grateful for?  Let me know, I want to give it a listen!  For now, enjoy a video of Ambrose’s Veni, Redemptor Omnium:

Happy New Year!  I always look forward to sharing this greeting with fellow Catholics at the beginning of Advent, which marks the beginning of a new liturgical year for us.  With this greeting, whether we do it now or with the rest of society at the beginning of January, it is expressed with hope.  With the new year just beginning, we express our hope that it will be a good year ahead.  I think it is safe to say that this past year has not exactly been what we had hoped.  Is there any reason to think that the coming year will be any better?

As Christians, our answer to that question is an overwhelming “yes.”  Why?  Because the hope that we hold onto is a hope that is different from the worldly hope that always seems to come up short.  I was recently reading Pope Benedict’s encyclical on hope (Spe salvi), and he commented on the traditional dialog that takes place between the minister and the parents at the beginning of the Sacrament of Baptism.  Here is how the dialog goes:

• Minister:  What do you ask of the Church?
• Parents: Faith
• Minister: And what does faith give you?
• Parents: Eternal life

And so from the very beginning of our lives in Christ, we have planted within us, through the gift of faith, the hope for eternal life.  With each passing day and each passing year, we take one step closer to the realization of that hope.  

The Season of Advent is a great time to renew that sense of hope within us.  This season invites us to be joyful as we remember the coming of Christ in history nearly 2000 years ago.  His birth brought hope to a people who had been walking in darkness for generations.  His birth was a preparation for His death, when He destroyed death forever and unlocked the gates of Heaven to believers.  That victory is the reason for our hope.  Advent therefore is also a time to look forward in hope to Christ’s return when all who are in communion with Him in life and in death will share in His victory fully.

In the meantime, however, Advent invites us to recall that Jesus comes to us here and now in the mystery of His grace, present to us in a special way in the sacraments.  He brings light to us in the midst of the darkness that surrounds us, reminding us that we are not alone.  He is near to us, renewing our hope that at the end of this earthly journey, no matter how bumpy that journey may be, our hope in eternal life, given on the day of our Baptism, will be fulfilled.

May I therefore encourage you to pray the following traditional Advent prayer regularly: “Come, Lord Jesus.”  We pray for His coming in glory at the end of time, but we pray for Him to come in mystery into our lives anew in this new year, so that no matter what this year may bring, our hope in Him will not waver, and as St. Paul reminds us, this “hope does not disappoint.” (Rom 5:5)

Father Alford     

It’s hard to believe that we are already into the season of Advent. We can all agree that time flies too quickly, and each year just seems to go by more quickly. Advent is the beginning of our new liturgical year, and fittingly so as we prepare for the celebration of Christmas. 

This Sunday concludes our reflections on the sacrament of baptism. I wanted to dive into a very special baptism that can be found in our gospels – the baptism of Jesus himself. This baptism was the beginning of his public ministry, when it was manifested to the world that he was the Son of God. Let’s take a look at Matthew 3:13-17: “Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan to be baptized by him. John tried to prevent him, saying, ‘I need to be baptized by you, and yet you are coming to me?’ Jesus said to him in reply, ‘Allow it now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.’ Then he allowed him. After Jesus was baptized, he came up from the water and behold, the heavens were opened for him, and he saw the spirit of God descending like a dove and coming upon him. And a voice came from the heavens, saying, ‘This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.’”

The baptism of Jesus has baffled many throughout the centuries, first of all John the Baptist himself! John states the obvious when he says that it should be the other way around, with Jesus baptizing him, and he’s right! At the time of Jesus, before baptism was a sacrament of the New Covenant, the Jews had many ritual washings as part of their religious practice. Ritual washings were used to regain ritual purity as the body experienced things that were “unclean.” This is a somewhat hard concept for us to grasp, because unclean did not necessarily mean immoral or sinful. For example, after a woman gave birth, she was considered unclean for several weeks, although there was clearly no sin involved in having a baby! Similarly, soldiers would undergo a ritual washing after battle, and priests would undergo a washing before offering sacrifice. We can see how Jesus used the Jewish concept of ritual washing as a foundation for his institution of the sacrament of baptism. 

John was baptizing people in the Jordan in response to his call to conversion. He apparently had a successful following of people who understood the need for repentance and expressed this through the reception of a baptism in the river. Jesus had no need for this, which both he and John both recognized. However, we understand that Jesus was baptized for our sake. Jesus said that it is fitting for him to be baptized. In doing so, he sets the model for all of us and undergoes the same treatment as everyone else. This follows the pattern of Jesus always offering himself for our sake. 

Jesus’ baptism was a sort of reversal of roles. Typically, the water is clean and would wash the body of the unclean person. However, with Jesus it was opposite. Since Jesus is God himself and the source of all holiness, when he was baptized, he in turn sanctified the waters for our baptism. In Jesus’ baptism, he was revealed to the world as the Son of God, when God the Father spoke from the heavens saying, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.” God the Father spoke the same words to us in each of our baptisms, and what a beautiful beginning we each had! May our Advent season be filled with the graces of our baptism as we prepare to once again receive the Son of God into our hearts. 

I recently completed reading the book Conversion: Spiritual Insights into an Essential Encounter with God by Father Donald Haggerty, a priest of the Archdiocese of New York.  As I read it, I called to mind the many conversions I have undergone in my life, large and small.  But I was also challenged to see that the Lord invites me to continue to follow the path of conversion each and every day so that I can be a better instrument in His hands as I serve the people of God.

This call to continual conversion is one that the Church invites all Christians to embrace.  When addressing the role of the laity in the Church, the fathers of the Second Vatican Council wrote the following words about the laity:

They conduct themselves as children of the promise, and thus strong in faith and in hope they make the most of the present, and with patience await the glory that is to come. Let them not, then, hide this hope in the depths of their hearts, but even in the program of their secular life let them express it by a continual conversion and by wrestling “against the world-rulers of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness.”(Eph. 6:12)   Lumen Gentium, 35.

Notice the mention of the wrestling against the world-rulers of this darkness, referring not so much to human opponents, but our spiritual opponent the devil and his minions.  On the day of our Baptism, while the Heavens rejoiced at the gift of a new soul claimed for the Kingdom, our enemy lamented at his loss.  He is a sore loser, so he will not cease to try to tempt us to take our attention away from following Christ, our King.  The enemy tries to attract us by artificial lights that promise peace and fulfillment, but they only lead to darkness.  In the end, the enemy is a liar, and he will do everything possible to try to convince us of the truth of his lies.  Only by following Christ, who alone is “the way, and the truth, and the life” (Jn 14:6) can we be assured of final victory, of true peace and true happiness.  And because of our Baptism, we are God’s dearly beloved children, and He will never cease to fight on our behalf, so long as we give Him permission by submitting ourselves to His rule.

As the Church comes to the end of the liturgical year, this can be a good time to thank Christ, our King, for the areas of darkness in our lives that He has conquered through our acceptance of His reign.  But we are all well aware that there remain areas where we still need to let Him reign.  We pray that we may not resist Him when He comes and invites us to that next conversion.  While it may be uncomfortable, and even downright painful, we submit ourselves with humble trust, knowing that His reign in our souls is never one that brings slavery, but always leads to freedom.  

Father Alford     

In my column last week, I explored how the story of Noah’s Ark prefigured the sacrament of Baptism. St. Peter was the first one to make this connection explicit in one of his scriptural letters. Another clear image of Baptism from the Old Testament is the Exodus story. The “Exodus” is the term used to refer to the Hebrews’ miraculous escape from the enslaving Egyptians.  The  Exodus was the foundational event for the nation of the Hebrews. Abraham was the first one called by God, and after a couple generations, there were several dozen members of his family. Abraham’s great-grandson Joseph was sold to slavers and made his way to Egypt. This story of Joseph takes up a good portion of the book of Genesis and is one of the most wonderful stories in the Bible. However, this story is only building up to the foundational event of the Exodus. 

Joseph was able to save the nation of Egypt and eventually his own family through the prudent storage of food before a famine. Joseph brought his whole family to Egypt where they lived in prosperity for a number of years. However, the Hebrews were such strong people that the Egyptians began to fear them and thus made them slaves. For 430 years, the Hebrews worked under the Egyptians, but their family which was so small was still becoming a great nation. The stage was set for the most dramatic event in history up to that point, when God called Moses to lead his chosen people out of slavery into freedom. In this event, the evil of the Egyptians was destroyed when they were drowned by the sea closing in on them. And here we have a great connection to Baptism. Baptism frees us from the slavery of sin into the freedom of God’s love. The evil oppressors, sin and the devil, are cast off and destroyed. (The devil still exists after baptism but he no longer has authority over God’s people.)

In crossing the Red Sea, God miraculously led his people out of oppression, through water, towards the Promised Land. It took forty years of wandering before God finally led the Hebrews to the “land of milk and honey,” as it was called. The Exodus was only the beginning of freedom from slavery. In the same way, Baptism is only the beginning for a Christian. Baptism is the doorway, and thankfully we have six other sacraments to help us along as we also wander in the desert. During the Hebrews’ wandering, God taught them and gave them the law through the Ten Commandments and other laws such as those found in the book of Leviticus. 

The celebration of the Easter Vigil wonderfully dives into the mystery of Baptism through the Exodus. It is required that the story of the Exodus be read at the Easter Vigil, and those who are baptized are saved by passing through the water. If you have never attended an Easter Vigil, I highly encourage you to do so this year! It is sometimes called the “Mother of All Vigils” because it is the most solemn celebration of the entire church year. Simply experiencing this celebration can be a great way to come to a better appreciation of baptism, which is a great gift of freedom from God! 

November 23^rd

Our story this week follows a little boy nicknamed Cocol, growing up as the 1800s became the 1900s, right at the center of Mexico, in the city of Guadalupe, Zacatecas, in a mining family.  He joined the Society of Jesus at the age of 20, but just 3 years into his formation, his tremendously Catholic homeland, in 1914, after a rigged election, and subsequent power struggle, decended into revolution, and the new government supressed and then persecuted the Catholic Church.  First, no Catholic schools, then no religious orders, then the Church couldn’t have property at all, and finally, priests were told not to wear their clerical garb, could no longer vote, and were forbidden to speak about the political situation … or else death.  Miguel and his classmates were forced to flee the country to continue their formation and when he was ordained far from home (in Belgium at that point), he could not even offer his first blessings to his family, who remained in Mexico, persecuted and hiding, but could only beg God’s grace down upon the photographs that he cherished of them.

Fr. Pro surrepticiously returned to Mexico one year later.  His life emulated so many thousands of priests down through the Church’s history who endured persercution and risked death to bring the sacraments to the faithful: from the persecutions of the 200s in Rome, the 700s in Arabia, the 1500s in England, the 1600s in Japan, the 1900s in Europe, … to those currently in North Korea, Afganistan, India, Colombia and so many other countries.  Within 3 months, a warrant was out for his arrest, and by the fall of 1927, he was captured, and then executed without trial.  It was crime enough that he was a priest.

So much for God’s Kingdom coming, huh?

But then the voice of Christ resounds down through the ages: “My Kingdom is not of this world.”  Our Lord spoke that truth, beleagered and beaten and berefit of any power or influence before the might of the Roman Empire, and was promptly crucified and killed outside the city meant to be the place where God reigned … but as Miguel extended his arms in the shape of the cross, the firing squad raised their rifles, and the priest shouted “Viva Christo Rey!”, Christ’s Kingdom won another victory, because one more life had been captured by their carrying the cross after Him.

Padre Cocol, as he humbly signed his letters, received the martyr’s crown that day, but lest we think that his death was still a loss for everybody else, perhaps even earthly results can give us an indication of the fruit born by his sacrifice.  President Calles ordered the photographs capturing Pro’s execution distributed around the country to cow any remaining Christians.  But, as always, “the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church”, and those very images – an icon of the thousands of lives lost in those years, and during the continued persecutions in spots that lasted until the anti-Catholic laws were taken off the books in the 1990s – only invigorated and inspired the remaining followers of Christ to stay faithful to Him.  60,000 of those Christians came to Fr. Pro’s funeral!

We are not, right now, torn from our family and friends, to follow God’s call, but when the day comes, will we be willing to “sell everything” in order to purchase the Kingdom of God?  We are not, yet, destined for the firing-squad by professing that our King is Christ, but if we are not willing today to “suffer for the sake of the Name”, when that price is put on our faith, will we be willing to pay it?  We were traced with the sign of the cross at our baptism, and most of the time it doesn’t hurt too much, but do we act now in such a way to make that sign evident?  If not, will we have the courage when our last day comes to extend our own arms, and still profess Jesus’ victory within our own death?

“Cocol” is actually a simple, sweet bread found around Mexico, and loved by Miguel Pro.  Perhaps it is a fitting image for his own life – the wheat flour, mixed with a little salt, a little sugar, butter, yeast, eggs, and anise – all very normal ingredients, but transformed into something wonderful by grinding and kneading and baking.  Our lives are captured for Christ’s Kingdom, when we allow His cross to be imprinted on us … when we allow ourselves to be ground, and kneaded, and baked by the trials of this life, in order to become God’s holy bread as we join His victory in the next.

– Fr. Dominic Rankin has celebrated approximately 1000 Masses as this goes to print.  That is probably more than Bl. Miguel Pro would have celebrated in his short 2 years of priesthood, yet he was ready for martyrdom when the time came.  Do we allow ourselves to be conformed to Christ, crucified, when we receive His Body and Blood poured out at the Mass?