Feast Day: April 26^th | Pope, Bishop of Rome, Martyr | Imagery: Pallium, Papal Tiara, Book, Beard | Patronage: Papacy, Rome, Priests

If we peruse the most ancient lists of the Popes, we find in the third place, after Peter and Linus, a man named Cletus. Now, some lists include a Pope Anacletus as well but Sts. Irenaeus, Augustine, and Optatus (as well as the historian Eusebius) indicate that these are simply two names for the same man. The Church in her official list of the Popes in the “Annuario Pontificio” takes this position, as was underscored by Pope St. John XXIII in 1960 when he merged the feast-day of St. Anacletus on July 13^th into that of St Cletus on April 26^th). Probably “Cletus” is simply the shorter, and more Christian, version of “Anacletus”. Though Cletus was born and died in Rome, his name is Greek in its roots, meaning “one who has been called” [Cletus] or “one who has been called back/from” [Anacletus]. The Greek verb “kaléō”, as you could guess even from its linguistic descendants in English, means “to call/recall”, and is related to another biblically-charged noun “kleos”, translated “glory”, meaning “what others hear about you”.

We know only the barest facts of St. Cletus’ life. He became a disciple of St. Peter in Rome along with St. Linus. Linus would become St. Peter’s successor as the second Bishop of Rome with Cletus becoming our third Holy Father when Linus was martyred around 76/79 A.D. St. Cletus would also be martyred, probably under the Emperor Domition arond 88/91 A.D. These were truly Golden Years for the papacy and the Church with 28 of the first 31 popes being martyred and 48 of the first 50 Popes acknowledged as canonized saints!

What captivated each of these men to take up the charge of Christ with knowing they would follow their Lord to the cross?! The only other detail that is mentioned again and again about Pope St. Cletus is that he ordained a number of men priests for the city of Rome (possibly 25, by some records). How many of these men also died? What compelled them to give their lives to that sacred ordination, most likely an oblation to the point of death? It was nothing less than the marvelous, utterly real, truth of Christ’s Resurrection! Cletus heard the Gospel, the kerygma, from St. Peter himself. Do you wish you could be similarly captivated by the natural audacity, and supernatural eloquence, of this fisherman-turned-apostle? Do you think you would could be convicted, and called, like Cletus, if you heard St. Peter’s preaching for yourself?!

May I recommend a reread of Acts chapter 2: “God publicly endorsed Jesus the Nazarene by doing powerful miracles, wonders, and signs through him, as you well know. But God knew what would happen, and his prearranged plan was carried out when Jesus was betrayed. With the help of lawless Gentiles, you nailed him to a cross and killed him.  But God released him from the horrors of death and raised him back to life, for death could not keep him in its grip. … God raised Jesus from the dead, and we are all witnesses of this.  Now he is exalted to the place of highest honor in heaven, at God’s right hand. And the Father, as he had promised, gave him the Holy Spirit to pour out upon us, just as you see and hear today. … So let everyone in Israel know for certain that God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, to be both Lord and Messiah!” [Acts 2:22-24, 32-33, 36] 

Can you hear the man who himself denied Christ utter those words? The man whom Jesus still called to “feed my lambs”? 

Recall the similar proclamation in St. Peter’s first letter: “For Christ also sufferedonce for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh but made alive in the spirit,  in whichhe went and proclaimedto the spirits in prison, because they formerly did not obey, when God’s patience waited in the days of Noah, while the ark was being prepared, in which a few, that is, eight persons, were brought safely through water.  Baptism, which corresponds to this, now saves you, not as a removal of dirt from the body but as an appeal to God for a good conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ, who has gone into heaven and is at the right hand of God, with angels, authorities, and powers having been subjected to him.” [1 Peter 3:18-22] 

Christ crucified by me, by you. Yet the messiah was prophesied to suffer and be scorned. And sin and death cannot bind Him! … nor those who clasp His cross and be plunged, baptized, into His death. For Jesus is alive, and glorious, and wants to welcome me, and you, into His Eternal Kingdom! 

The Messiah murdered. Miraculously alive, marvelously merciful. He already died for me! In baptism, I have already died with Him. Can I choose Him again today?

– Fr. Dominic, on this past Easter Sunday, celebrated his 2000^th Holy Mass. Every one of them should have, could have, been a recommitment to his priestly consecration, a renewal of his union with Christ’s sacrificial offering to the Heavenly Father. Sadly, contritely, many times he forgot. Did those first popes and priests of Rome forget?

Alleluia!  He is Risen!  Several years ago, while I was a seminarian, I was involved in a conversation with a few teenagers who were debating on which day was better, Christmas or Easter.  The teenagers were learning toward Christmas, especially considering Christmas is often associated with receiving gifts.  Who doesn’t like receiving gifts?  And because our culture has put so much emphasis on Christmas, there can be a feeling that it is maybe more significant than Easter.

At the time, I recall defending the position that Easter was a more important day, since it recalls the Resurrection, the victory of sin over death.  Christ’s birth at Christmas has to be understood in light of the suffering, death, and Resurrection that He would undergo to save us from our sins.  Therefore, Easter should have the pride of place, while not really diminishing the significance of Christmas, for both days point to the common theme of God’s bringing about our redemption through the Savior, who took on our human flesh in order to save us through His life, Passion, death, and Resurrection.

As we consider these two peaks of the liturgical year, I would like to reflect on the notion of gift.  As I mentioned above, we tend to associate Christmas more with receiving gifts, but it is also on Easter where we receive gifts.  I am not talking about chocolate eggs or marshmallow bunnies (delicious as those may be), Easter invites us to appreciate the great gift of the Eucharist.  As I mentioned in my article last week for Palm Sunday, Holy Thursday is the day on which we celebrate the institution of the Eucharist, the beginning of the Church’s practice of celebrating this gift every single day.  The following line from the Catechism offers a simple yet profound description of this gift:

In order to leave them a pledge of this love, in order never to depart from His own and to make them sharers in his Passover, He instituted the Eucharist as the memorial of His death and Resurrection, and commanded His apostles to celebrate it until His return; “thereby he constituted them priests of the New Testament. (CCC 1337)

In short, the Eucharist is the gift of God’s love for us, a love that is given at the expense of His Son’s suffering and death on the Cross due to our sins.  It is a gift that has overcome sin and death and is now given to us so that we can share in the new life He has won for us.

Throughout this Easter Season, I would like for us to reflect on this gift of the Eucharist and how we can grow in our appreciation of this gift in our lives as Catholics.  He (for this gift of the Eucharist is a person, not a thing) is a gift, sad to say, that I think many Catholics have neglected, taking Him for granted.  As we begin this journey through this season of glory, I would like to issue a challenge.  It is simple, and may even sound obvious, but it is something I know many struggle with.  Here it is: come to Mass.  Come every single Sunday.  As a bonus, come to daily Mass as your schedule permits.  Even if you are not able to receive Holy Communion (more on that in a future article), come!  See it not so much as an obligation (which it most definitely is, and to intentionally miss Mass is a grave sin which must be confessed before returning to Holy Communion), but rather see is as an opportunity to receive this gift which is the pledge of God’s love for you and His desire for you to share in the gift of His Risen life, already available to us in this life, and fully in Heaven.

It had been a few crazy days leading up to the Illinois March for Life, so I had slept soundly and my conversation with God the morning after was filled with tremendous gratitude for all the graces that had carried us through the prior days, and all the ways that Our Lord had opened doors to make such a tremendous witness of His love for human life possible. On my mind, of course, was the visit I would be making later that day to the schoolkids at Sacred Heart in Effingham. Many rainy miles awaited me and my car bookending the several hours I would be spending engaging all the different grades down there throughout the day, so I leaned into the lesson that God had been teaching me all this Lent and asked Him to lighten the burdens that awaited me that day too. Gradually those voices of fear and fatigue were replaced by confident peace in the Lord and I genuflected before heading inside.

One frustration remained on my heart: I had forgotten the Cathedral’s book of the Gospels at the UIS Auditorium. I had realized this the day before as I put some of the things away (altar-cloths, chalices, the 7^th candle that indicates when a bishop is celebrating Mass…) I had texted some of the others that could have ended up with it, but the replies that were waiting for me Wednesday morning indicated that nobody had the book and it was my forgetfulness that had left it somewhere over there. Ah well, it couldn’t all go perfectly, and someone over there would probably have found (and not tossed) the giant red and gold book. Still, as I stepped past the sacristy, there was a niggling somewhere in the back of my mind, “what if God wanted to provide here too?” Without much expectation, I stopped in the sacristy and flipped open the cabinet that held all the sacred books. 

And there it was. 

I kid you not.

The Book of the Gospels was sitting there on its shelf already.

I was shocked, surprised, delighted, reassured. What does one do when confronted with a miracle? How do you respond to it, to such a small miracle? I didn’t know miracles came in a “small” size. I mean, I wasn’t blind and now I could see, or dead and returned to life again. I thought Jesus only tackled the big stuff: leprosy, hatred, unforgiveness, death … Does God care about me so fully that He would want to solve a problem I could have probably figured out with a phone call, or worst-case, a few hundred dollars?! Yes, it seems He does! 

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I was blind, and could now see; dead, and coming to life again. Some part of my heart had the expectation that God did not care about the small concerns of my life. I had internalized a distorted version of God as a Father Who would only help once I had proven myself, after I had lifted what I could on my own. I had fallen for the lie that I had to earn God’s Love. Here, placed on that shelf in our Cathedral sacristy, was proof to the contrary!

Thing is, God wants to marvelously, miraculously, restore the presence and power of His Gospel to all our hearts. What parts of you do you doubt God’s Love can heal? What relationships do you assume are irredeemable? What sins do you think will always plague you? What sufferings do you feel are too small for God to care about? When Christ stepped out of the tomb, He wasn’t just promising resurrection to those who were dead. He was also promising resurrection to those who are half-dead, to all the parts of us that aren’t fully alive, to all who are tired, afraid, burdened, or stuck. God’s Love doesn’t delay until disaster. God’s Truth doesn’t wait for us to hit rock bottom. God’s Gospel doesn’t depend on us finding it. 

God is not a Father who waits for us to get our act together.

Consider every encounter of someone and the Christ, Risen from the dead. Jesus steps into the garden of Mary Magdalen’s tears. He calls out to Peter swallowed by failure and shame. He beckons Thomas tormented by doubt and loneliness. He walks up to Cleopas and Mary as sorrow carried them far from Jerusalem. He knocks Saul away from his pride and brutality. 

This is the same Christ Who is alive, approaching us today. This is the same Gospel that is gently, miraculously, placed in your and my hands. Will I unwrap God’s gift today? Will I accept His Love? Will I allow Him into the small stuff too? 

– Fr. Dominic was recently with a family who had just received the news that their two-year-old daughter had brain cancer. On their family chalkboard were these words: “[Our daughter’s] situation is like that of the blind man in Saint John’s Gospel (Jn 9:1-38). The apostles said, Lord, who sinned, this man or his parents? And Jesus said, neither, but ‘so that the works of God might be displayed in him.’ God has important plans for [her] and for our family through all of this. Love, Mom & Dad.” 

Nothing can separate us from the love of God!

As we come to the culmination of our Lenten journey, it is my prayer that among the graces you have received, you have grown at least a little (if not a lot) in your appreciation for and love of the Holy Eucharist.  Holy Week is overwhelmingly Eucharistic.  Recall a few weeks ago when I reflected on the words in the consecration: “for you.”  We see on full display this week the offering Jesus made of His life for you.  In a particular way, we recall the institution of this great gift of His Body and Blood when as we begin the Sacred Paschal Triduum with the celebration of the Mass of the Lord’s Supper on Thursday evening.    

As we prepare for Holy Thursday this year, I note that this marks the 25^th anniversary of a very powerful moment that happened to me on this night.  I was a freshman at Eastern Illinois University at the time and I had attended the Holy Thursday Mass at the Newman Center.  Returning back to my dorm room, I did some homework and a friend asked if I was interested in going to a party with him.  As an aside, I’m not sure why he asked, I NEVER went to parties.  I politely declined and decided instead to head back to the Newman Center to pray before the Blessed Sacrament at the Altar of Repose, a tradition on Holy Thursday evening which recalls Jesus’s prayer to His Father in the Garden of Gethsemane.  At that point in my life, I did not know what adoration was, and I did not even have a clear understanding why I was even going back to church, but I felt drawn to do so.  I think a part of it was from having gone to Holy Thursday Mass growing up and how interesting it was for us to do a solemn procession to the Altar of Repose, then departing in silence.  Again, I can’t say that I really understood what was happening, but something about it stuck with me.

As I knelt in adoration that night in 2008, I do not remember the exact content of my prayer, but I remember that it moved me profoundly.  It could very well be one of the first times in my life that I realized Jesus’s personal love for me, that the suffering and death we would recall on Good Friday was for me.  I can’t say that my life changed drastically after that, but years later, probably sometime after I was ordained a priest, the memory of that night came back to me, and it occurred to me that that moment would prove to be a pivotal moment in my relationship with the Lord.  A seed was planted that would grow in a hidden way for several years before breaking through the surface and grow into the vocation that I have been blessed to live as a priest.

Much can be said about my experience, but perhaps we can leave it as an encouragement to anybody who, while showing up week after week to Mass, or who goes through the Triduum each year, may not walk away totally changed.  We should never doubt the value of our showing up.  The Lord is planting seeds, seeds which may take months if not years to grow hidden under the surface, but in God’s providential timing, will bring about a bud that will break through the surface and blossom into a new experience of God’s love, resulting in our realizing that because He has died for you, you will now resolve to live more fully for Him.

This week, instead of a reflection question, I will offer a spiritual challenge:  I am challenging us to commit to fully immersing ourselves into Holy Week.  This would include, to the extent possible, attending the Chrism Mass on Tuesday at 6:30 pm, and the Paschal Triduum liturgies.  As an added challenge, I invite you to spend some time in silent adoration of the Blessed Sacrament in the Atrium following the Mass of the Lord’s Supper on Thursday evening.  The Atrium will remain open until 11 pm that evening.

So we were going to have a Mass before our March for Life, and it was going to be at UIS, and we had 1700+ people registered to come. Last week I told the story up to the point where God seemed to be providing an altar and ambo for the Mass – actually the same one that JPII had used when he came to St. Louis! – but I had no good way to get it up here to Springfield. 

I asked around if anybody had someone that fit the bill. Coworkers, brother priests, Legion of Valor members, Knights of Columbus … Does anyone know someone, or know someone who knows someone, that would be willing to do it for us?? I sent out a battery of messages and joined Fr. Vahling in the gym to take out my worries on the squat rack. I was convinced already that only God could figure all of it out, and wondrously at the same time, somewhere deep in my heart was the further conviction that God had big plans and wasn’t going to let mere logistical impossibilities get in the way. 

As it turned out (coincidence?), the following day I would be seeing all of the priests of the diocese. Maybe someone would know someone? Fr. Arisman pointed me towards Fr. Goekner. Fr. Goekner pointed me towards Fr. Bergbower. Fr. Bergbower mentioned he already had a portable altar that might be big enough … but then said “Have you talked with John Hopkins?” I hadn’t even heard of the guy, but turns out he owns a truck-repair company, and he is a good Catholic, and he goes to daily Mass at the Cathedral Basilica in St. Louis! Fr. Bergbower texted him while we were eating our salads and before we had even gotten our meat and potatoes he had a response. It was an all-caps “LET’S DO IT!!!” (I do think there were three exclamation points. There certainly were in my memory of the moment). He would be returning from vacation on Sunday, would pick up the altar on Monday, and drop it off that afternoon at the auditorium with 12 hours to spare.

Amazing, providential, assistance came through at every turn. The four-week heads-up that our insurance needed to cover exterior collaborators came together in 24 hours. Meetings on Monday became unnecessary or were covered by other people giving time to hash out all the necessary details. Staff were on hand at the University to get everything moved in, and properly situated, when the altar showed up early Monday afternoon. Fr. Isaacson at St. Katherine Drexel had a glorious set of six candlesticks (and candles, and followers) for either side of the altar. None of the additional servers that I was expecting from high schools ended up showing, yet somehow between the pontifical servers and a few other guys who decided to help out, we had exactly 19 servers, one for each of the 19 places that we would have priests and bishops distribute Holy Communion.

Don’t get the wrong impression! Some crises were only solved at the last second. This was definitely like the Manna in the desert: God providing precisely what was necessary in the moment. The printer broke at the CPC and we only had 1950 programs. Then it turned out we only had 1900 seats anyway. 45 minutes before buses began arriving for the Mass, UIS asked us to count everyone who came through the door … and limit entries to 1750 people (we had 1800+ registrants by this point!) Dozens of members of the curia helped count programs and distribute them to groups, and when the time for Mass came there were still seats available. T-1 minute, we were still eight patens short to carry up to all the balconies Holy Communion. (Fr. Thompson had an emergency hospital call and could not come, along with the four patens we were borrowing from him for the Mass, and Fr. Arisman hadn’t yet arrived with his four either.) Yet by the time Mass had started, Fr. Arisman was there (with his four), and we were able to put into service one of the ciboriums we had off to the side giving us just enough to get by.

Two anecdotes remain. As bishop finished greeting all the groups from around the state during his homily, a starling fluttered down from the ceiling … and landed on one of the candles. Somehow the candle didn’t topple, or go out, and bishop happily used it as a reminder for all of us of the Holy Spirit’s presence there with all of us. And, in case I still doubted God was working through it all, a woman came up to me during the March afterwards (during which, I might mention, it did not rain as expected) and simply thanked me for the immense Peace that she experienced during the Mass. Now, if you’ve ever been at a Mass with thousands of people, and in an auditorium, you know that peace is not the obvious experience. Yet it was for her, and for many others, and I take that as a final testimony that God was working behind every detail.

– Fr. Dominic saw not only God’s providence in it all, but also his continued need to grow in trust in God. Every day the Lord wants to prove His Love for us; do we expect Him to?