Feast Day: April 28^th 

This week, we turn to the saints to find a final attribute or characteristic of the priest: as preacher of the Gospel.

First a step back: every Christian is united to Christ’s priesthood, and is called to poverty, perseverance, prayer, and preaching within his or her own circumstances.  Every one of us is called into priestly service, acting as intermediaries between God and His creation.  However, there is a special way that a ministerial, ordained, priest is further stamped with these particular characteristics (and mission).  

Poverty: because it is only by “the Spirit of holiness … which comes from you, O God”, that he “possess[es] this office”.  Perseverance: because the priest’s life is consecrated to be a lasting witness of fidelity, being “faithful stewards of your mysteries”.  Prayer: because he uniquely is entrusted to intercede for the Church “that your people may be renewed in the waters of rebirth and nourished from your altar; so that sinners may be reconciled and the sick raised up.”  Finally, preaching because the priest is ordained so that “through the grace of the Holy Spirit the words of the Gospel may bear fruit in human hearts and reach even to the ends of the earth.” (Above quotations from the Prayer of Ordination of Priests.)

And that brings us to the island of Futuna in the year 1837.  We are 2000 miles east of Brisbane and 2800 miles south west of Hawaii (so, not too far from Fiji, or the American Samoa).  As a small schooner, the Raiatea, approached the coast of the volcanic island in November, it had already transversed some 2000 miles since departing Tahiti, and had aboard Bishop Pompallier and a few remaining Marianist missionaries on their way to Rotuma having left Father Bataillon and Brother Joseph Xavier on the nearby island of Wallis.  

They were there to drop off an English trader, Thomas Boog, and twelve natives of Futuna who needed passage from Willis.  But things took longer than expected (it seems they did not want to repeat the near capsize they had at Willis) … and then the crew of a beached English whaleboat came hollering up … and then the natives of Futuna swarmed over the little Raiatea … and then the good bishop turned to Fr. Chanel and asked if the intrepid young priest would be willing to stay there in Futuna.  The future of the small island (its land-mass is smaller than that of Springfield), and all the souls upon it hung in the balance as the young priest considered his response.  “My Lord, I am quite willing and ready.”

Willing? Ready?

Fr. Peter Chanel did not know the king, Niuliki, who accepted him and Br. Michael into his abode after one of courageous chiefs, Maile, argued for their reception.  

He did not know that cannibalism had been practiced on the island until the beginning of Niuliki’s reign.  

He had no idea that Niuliki was the leader of the Alo tribe, in bitter conflict with the Sigave population.  

He had probably never tasted the kava that was shared with them to welcome them to the island, nor seen the kind of tree on the beach upon which he affixed a Miraculous Medal, entrusting his life and efforts to the patroness of his order.  

He would not be fluent in their language for three long years.

And yet he preached the Gospel: By his patience as the locals pillaged his garden.  By his simplicity as the king shuttled him from one (inadequate) shelter to another.  By his hunger, subsisting off the single daily meal of bananas and yams that the inhabitants enjoyed.  By his tending the wounded on both sides as the Alo and Sigave battled for control of the island.  And, by his constant efforts to tell the people of a God who loved them, and wanted them for His own, rather than the dismal spirit-world they assumed controlled their destinies and were embodied in their leaders.  

Yet few accepted the Father’s love.  

Maile did accept baptism, but it was slow work driving the demons from the minds and hearts of any others. After a month, for their first Christmas, Fr. Chanel celebrated his 7^th Mass on the island with 15 locals attending.  After three hard years, he had still only baptized a few children and dying adults, whereas on Willis the entire island was converting.  

Finally, several locals, and the king’s son, Meitala, became catechumens, but hope would quickly fade.  On April 28, 1841, when preparing medicine for Musumusu, the (angered, un-injured) warrior attacked Fr. Chanel.  He spoke in his assailant’s language: “Malie fuai”, “it is well for me”, and yielded his life to his murderer, and into the hands of God.  

But, within 2 years, every soul on the island would be baptized and in 2021, 99% of the island remains Catholic!  He was willing and ready enough for God!

– Fr. Dominic Rankin is currently working on a series of talks on the “Tough Topics” related to our faith.  Science, sin, shame, sex … he could not think of any other parts of the Gospel more misunderstood or rejected.  Yet that is nothing compared to proclaiming that Gospel to a culture that has no concept of God’s love, and of whom you do not know the first word of their language!

Feast Day: December 3^rd 

We have one more saint to meet during our investigation of baptism.  This week we celebrate the saint who was baptized Francisco, and grew up in Javier [Xavier] of the Kingdom of Navarre (nowadays in North East Spain), with a prosperous farmer for a father and a mother claiming noble blood.  The prosperity was tenuous at best, his homeland being invaded by King Ferdinand of Aragon (who you might know as the husband of Isabella, and sponsor of Christopher Columbus) when Francisco was 6.  During the next 18 years of war, Francisco would lose his father, and most of his family’s castle would be demolished.

Still, at the age of 19, he was able to begin his studies at the University of Paris, where, in God’s good providence, he fell in with Pierre Favre (a long time friend) and Ignatius of Loyola (a new friend, and far older than both other men, himself a convert-by-cannonball, which is a story for another day…).  These friends sought to convince the vivacious Francisco that to follow God would offer him a far more exciting life than to spend his life seeking worldly fame.  As he studied philosophy (and then taught it), and then studied theology, Xavier gradually was won over by the earnest Ignatius and in 1534, chose with 5 other men to go through the Spiritual Exercises and definitively join together in poverty, chastity, and obedience (specifically, individually, in service to the Pope) and to go on pilgrimage to Jerusalem to see where God wanted them to offer their labors for the salvation of souls.  Not dissimilar from 11 apostles 1500 years before, the 10 men (as it grew to a year later), praying in a nondescript chapel on a hill of Paris, would bear fruit far beyond their human abilities.

Francisco offered his services as secretary of the new order, daringly named the Society of Jesus, though Francis’ role would remain mundane for 6 more years.  But then, in 1540, Pope Paul III (the one who called the Council of Trent first supported Michelangelo’s efforts as an artist, and also given the go ahead for the Jesuits to form) now requested that they offer their services as missionaries to the new Portuguese discoveries in the East Indies.  Two other early Jesuits were tapped for the (presumably one-way) trip, but one came down sick just before they were to leave, and Ignatius asked Francis to take his spot.  

The eager 34-year-old left Rome in March, arrived in Portugal in June, and spent 8 months preparing for the voyage.  The pair departed Europe in April of 1541, arrived in Mozambique in August, and Goa, India, by May, 1542.  The following three years would be packed with caring for the natives of Southern India, building and working in hospitals, educating the peasant population, and baptizing tens of thousands every month.  He repeated this feat in Malacca (now Malaysia, in 1545), Maluku (now Indonesia, in 1546), Japan (in 1549), and China (in 1551, dying just before arriving on the mainland) facing countless deprivations, immense struggle to learn the native languages, and hostility by the cultic leaders who had previously sustained themselves off the lesser castes.  His body was returned to Goa, India, where it remains to this day, though, as only Catholic are apt to do, his arm, the same one that baptized hundreds of thousands, was eventually taken all the way back to the Jesuit headquarters in Rome, where it has stayed ever since (except a few excursions “on tour” around Canada, Australia, and other countries that even this legendary missionary couldn’t reach in this life).  

Perhaps what we are meant to learn from this saint is a simple truth: Christianity is an incarnate religion.  Everything we believe is founded upon our God becoming man.  Continuing this humility: today God depends on human lips, and limbs, and learning to preach, and baptize, and teach for Him.  And, for the very same reason, it is Christianity, and Christian saints, that relentlessly cherish the incarnate persons we encounter in every culture the world over, and none the less, desire ardently to bring them that incarnate love given to the Church in her scripture and sacraments.  May we have the gumption to do the same!

Many, many people hereabouts are not becoming Christians for one reason: there is nobody to make them Christians. Again and again I have thought of going round the universities of Europe, especially Paris, and everywhere crying out like a madman. Riveting the attention of those with more learning than charity: What a tragedy:  how many souls are being shut out of heaven and falling into hell, thanks to you!

– Fr. Dominic Rankin keeps waiting for the growth spurt that is sure to send him above his current height of 5’6” (on a good day), but he was happy to realize that sanctity does not depend on stature, for Francis Xavier never surpassed 5’4”, yet his youthful skill at running and high-jumping were surpassed one-hundred-fold by the grace with which he ran the Christian race and reached the heights of glorifying God.

Thousands of miles, and millions encountered.  You and I will do the same in our lives.  But do we as strongly desire to bring Christ to every parsec, and every person?. 

Because of Jesus’ sharing of his intimate life of prayer, we know that God is Trinity. Hinted at under various guises in the Old Testament, the Trinity is spoken of in a direct way in both the Gospels and the New Testament epistles. The Church later articulated what we know about it in clear and precise terms. The Trinity, a communion of divine Persons in utter unity, unveils an eternal foundation to what we mean by saying “God is love.” Nevertheless, the Trinity cannot be fully grasped, because God is mystery, far above human comprehension.

The Relationship of the Father and the Son
According to the Catechism of the Catholic Church, “In the Old Testament, “son of God” is a title given to the angels, the Chosen People, the children of Israel, and their kings” (no. 441). Yet the Gospels speak often of Jesus as the Son of God in an altogether new and unique sense. Before Jesus’ birth, the angel Gabriel said to Mary that Jesus “will be called son of the Most High” (Luke 1:32). At his finding in the Temple, the boy Jesus spoke of being in God’s Temple as being “in my Father’s house” (Luke 2:49). We find that the devil even tempts Jesus later by saying, “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become bread” (Luke 4:3).

In John’s Gospel, Jesus speaks more directly of what is meant by his unique Sonship:

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life” (John 3:16).

Also, “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father…. Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me, or else, believe because of the works themselves” (John 14:9-11). Thus Jesus’ divine Sonship is completely unique. The Church understands the Son to proceed eternally from the Father, who is the origin in the Godhead, though the two Persons are equal in divinity.

When Jesus prays, he converses with his Father. In his High Priestly Prayer, he prayed,

“Righteous Father, the world also does not know you, but I know you, and they know that you sent me” (John 17:25).

When he raised Lazarus, “Jesus raised his eyes and said, ‘Father, I thank you for hearing me. I know that you always hear me; but because of the crowd here I have said this, that they may believe that you sent me’” (John 11:41-42).

The term abba is well-known, even though it is only found once in the Gospels. It is an Aramaic term Jesus used to express particular affection and intimacy with his Father. It is recorded on the lips of Jesus only at his agony in the garden, where he prayed,

“Abba, Father, all things are possible to you. Take this cup away from me, but not what I will but what you will.” (Mark 14:36).

Typically the Gospels, written in Greek, use the standard Greek word for father—pater. But Jesus’ original use of abba certainly made an impact on the early Christian consciousness since it was carried over twice in the epistles, also as “Abba, Father” (Romans 8:15; Galatians 4:6).

When the disciples asked Jesus for advice in prayer, he instructed them to address God as “Our Father in heaven” (Matthew 6:9). Here Jesus, the natural and eternal Son, shares his Father with us, the Father’s adopted children. Thus in the Liturgy, the Lord’s Prayer is introduced by these words: “At the Savior’s command and formed by divine teaching, we dare to say: Our Father …” As the Catechism teaches, we only address God as our Father; only Jesus may address God as my Father (no. 443). For this reason, St. Paul writes, “For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you received a spirit of adoption, through which we cry, ‘Abba, Father!’” (Romans 8:15).

In the Spirit
As St. Paul writes above, it is only in the Spirit that we may cry, “Abba, Father!” He continues, “In the same way, the Spirit too comes to the aid of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit itself intercedes with inexpressible groanings. And the one who searches hearts knows what is the intention of the Spirit, because it intercedes for the holy ones according to God’s will” (Romans 8:26-27). This is what Jesus meant when he said, “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you always, the Spirit of truth, which the world cannot accept, because it neither sees nor knows it. But you know it, because it remains with you, and will be in you. I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you” (John 14:15-18).

Jesus promised to come to the disciples in the Holy Spirit (for more on this subject see my article “Why Jesus Had to Ascend to Heaven”). The Holy Spirit would remain with the disciples, intercede for them, convict them of sin, remind them of Jesus’ teachings, comfort them, and help them grow in his ways. Jesus said to his disciples,

“But when he comes, the Spirit of truth, he will guide you to all truth. He will not speak on his own, but he will speak what he hears, and will declare to you the things that are coming” (John 16:13).

Further, the Holy Spirit would absolve them of sin, utilizing the ministry of the Church. Thus, the risen Christ breathed on the apostles and said, “Receive the holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained” (John 20:22-23). The Holy Spirit would also be the force propelling them to salvation. As St. Paul writes, “If the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, the one who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also, through his Spirit that dwells in you” (Romans 8:11).

Jesus commanded that his disciples baptize “in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the holy Spirit” (Matthew 28:19). Reading the Old Testament in light of Jesus’ revelation of the Holy Spirit, Christians see the Holy Spirit as at work in the act of creation (Genesis 1:2) as well as in providence. Given the divine powers of the Holy Spirit, the Church believes in the full divinity of the Holy Spirit. Further, we understand the Holy Spirit’s mission in time (i.e. sent by the Father and the Son) to be reflective of his eternal procession within the Godhead. Thus the Western Church proclaims that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son.

Defined by the Church
As Christians, we have learned to read Scriptures relating to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in light of the doctrine of the Trinity. This is an example of reading Scripture according to the analogy of faith (Catechism, no. 114). The early Christians understood the Trinity intuitively by faith, but they were not yet able to plainly articulate it. They could, however, sense heresy when something was awry in an interpretation. Out of controversies and debates and aided by the guidance of the Holy Spirit, the Church came over the course of several centuries to the full doctrine of the Trinity. Along the way, the Church even developed the term person as we use it today to speak of an individual of a rational nature. The doctrine of the Trinity states that there is one God, three distinct equal divine Persons – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Jesus told his disciples, “Everything that the Father has is mine” (John 16:15). Thus at the Council of Nicea in 325, the bishops defined that the Son is consubstantial with the Father. The bishops professed belief “in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Only Begotten Son of God, born of the Father before all ages. God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, consubstantial with the Father; through him all things were made.” The bishops at Nicea were satisfied to simply profess belief “in the Holy Spirit” until heretics took advantage of the lack of definition to falsely teach that the Holy Spirit is a creature. Thus the First Council of Constantinople in 381 further professed belief “in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life, who proceeds from the Father and the Son, who with the Father and the Son is adored and glorified, who has spoken through the prophets.”

The Trinity gives expression to the revolutionary statement from the First Letter of John—“God is love.” There we read, “We have come to know and to believe in the love God has for us. God is love, and whoever remains in love remains in God and God in him” (1 John 4:16). The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit permeate that chapter, lending us the interpretation that God is love because God is Trinity. The mutual love of the Father and the Son eternally bring forth the Holy Spirit; by God’s wise and loving decision, he shared this goodness with creatures.

Love in God is an eternal relationship into which he draws us. For Jesus in the Gospels, the Trinity is a relationship of unspeakable love. Thus, far beyond a mere formula, the Trinity is one of the most fundamental beliefs of the Church and is the mysterious reason that stands behind the countless loving works of God. with the poor being served as if they were at a restaurant – probably a common experience for many people but not so common for the poor. How we do things is important. Can we look at what we do, can we tweak it in such a way that dignity is acknowledged and therefore friendship is possible? It may take a little more effort, a little more creativity on our part to “structure in” for the possibility for friendship but this little bit extra does set a truly important tone and perspective.

Michael J. Ruszala is the author of several religious books, including Lives of the Saints: Volume I and Who Created God? A Teacher’s Guidebook for Answering Children’s Tough Questions about God. He holds a master of arts degree in theology & Christian ministry from Franciscan University of Steubenville. He has served for a number of years as a parish director of religious education, parish music director in the Diocese of Buffalo, and adjunct lecturer in religious studies at Niagara University in Lewiston, NY. For more information about Michael and his books, visit michaeljruszala.com.

This past July 11th, as every year, the Church celebrated the memory of St. Benedict, the man who is called the “father of western monasticism” and from whom the Benedictine Order takes its name. Benedict was born in 480 and lived in central Italy. As a young man, Benedict was sent to Rome to study. While there, he became disillusioned with Roman life, abandoned his studies, and left the city to find peace away from it, eventually becoming a hermit in Subiaco. It was there that Benedict wrote his famous Rule which has been the guiding force of Benedictine life, and reference for religious life in general, for 1500 years. 

At the heart of the Benedictine life is the rhythm of prayer and work, in Latin ora et labora. A balance between contemplation and activity is key to balance in the Benedictine way of life. In reading the Rule, it may appear that work takes more time than prayer, but ultimately prayer should permeate every aspect of the monk or nun’s life, work included. The Rule’s prologue begins with listen carefully, my son, to the master’s instructions, and attend to them with the ear of your heart. This is the advice from a father who loves you; welcome it, and faithfully put it into practice. The monk or nun’s life is all about listening, about making sure that one can hear the voice of God over the voices of the world. 

This Sunday’s Gospel tells us of the welcome that Jesus received from his friends Martha and Mary. Martha is dutiful in her responsibilities towards hospitality, but she becomes lost in her efforts, and is angered by her sister Mary who has chosen to sit and listen to the Lord. Martha attempts to win the Lord’s backing to rebuke Mary but it is Martha who finds herself gently corrected by Jesus. In his response to Martha, Jesus does not dismiss her efforts nor downplay the importance of hospitality, but invites her, like Mary, to see what is most important, in this case it is the Lord, who simply wants to be with the two sisters. 

All of us have things going on in our lives, some of which are very important. As disciples we must be sure, in things large or small, that we do not become distracted from the Lord. The monk or nun goes about their work with God before their eyes as they complete their labors, but mastering that awareness takes time and discipline for anyone; even the most “experienced” monastic takes time from the their labors to sit at the Lord’s feet. In going about our daily living, we must keep the Lord before our eyes in all things; learning how to do this takes time at his feet to listen. Excelling in our discipleship will only be possible, and sustained, through taking the time to be with the Lord, to listen, to love, and to be loved. 

Martha’s labors were important but she lost sight of why, or rather for whom, she was doing them. Each day, as we go about our living, as we are faced with choices and decisions, may everything be for the Lord. For us to have the grace to make those choices for him, we must first to take time with him.