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.”