One of the challenges that we all face in the Christian life is staying faithful to prayer even when it becomes “difficult” or when we have little desire to do so. St. Therese of Lisieux is one of the Church’s most beloved saints of the 20^th century and she wrote very simply but beautifully about prayer. Her nickname of the “Little Flower” was one that she gave to herself. She imagined herself in God’s beautiful garden as just a simple little flower, compared to the spiritual masters who are more like bushes or trees! May her simple words on prayer inspire us to “keep at it” this week as we seek to love the Lord with all our heart! 

From Story of a Soul

Sometimes when I am in such a state of spiritual dryness that not a single good thought occurs to me, I say very slowly the “Our Father,” or the “Hail Mary,” and these prayers suffice to take me out of myself.

I take refuge, then, in prayer, and turn to Mary, and our Lord always triumphs.

My strength lies in prayer and sacrifice; they are invincible weapons, and touch hearts more surely than words can do, as I have learned by experience.

We often think we receive graces and are divinely illuminated by means of brilliant candles. But from whence comes their light? From prayers, perhaps, of some humble, hidden soul, whose inward shining is not apparent to human eyes.

In a word, prayer is something noble, supernatural, which expands my soul and unites it to God.

For me, prayer is a burst from my heart, it is a simple glance thrown toward heaven, a cry of thanksgiving and love in times of trial as well as in times of joy.

Frequently, only silence can express my prayer.

Let us not grow tired of prayer: confidence works miracles.

The power of prayer has been understood by all the saints, and especially, perhaps, by those who have illumined the world with the light of Christ’s teaching.

My strength lies in prayer and sacrifice; they are invincible weapons, and touch hearts more surely than words can do, as I have learned by experience.

Our fulcrum is God: our lever, prayer; prayer which burns with love. With that we can lift the world!

Excerpt from littleflower.org 

Feast Day: September 23^rd | Patron of Adolescents, Civil Defenders, Pietrelcina, Italy

1887, like most years in human history, had a whole lot of ordinary events, and a few that you would recognize. Gustave Eiffel began work on his eponymous tower in Paris. King Kalākaua of Hawai’i was forced to sign the Bayonet Constitution, leading to Hawaii’s annexation to the United States. Yamaha Corporation was founded in Japan, originally a manufacturer of organs. Sherlock Holmes first appeared in print in England.

God’s grace was available in all of these moments, though, as is often the case, it was more visible in the humbler moments that history has long since forgotten. On March 25^th of that year, on the Friday two weeks before Easter, after a day fasting from meat and working with her husband, Grazio, in the fields, Giuseppa “Beppa” Forgione gave birth to their fourth child, though only their second to survive infancy. They were a lovely couple: Neither had received much academic education, but Beppa had a dignity and sincerity that melded marvelously with Grazio’s simplicity and lightheartedness. The townspeople would fondly recall Beppa’s penetrating eyes and Grazio’s wiry tenacity, attributes that marked them through all 47 years of their marriage. 

But that Friday evening when Francisco was born, those personal characteristics, and their own past and future, were far from the couple’s mind. Instead, they endured together the struggle of childbirth, the surreal joy of welcoming a son into their family, the poignant sadness of recalling his deceased brother and sister, and yet the sure hope that held their hearts knowing that they had given each of their children the greatest gift they ever could: baptism into God’s very life.

They owned a simple jumble-of-a-house comprised of a few connected rooms on Vico Storto Valle [hilariously, literally, “Crooked Valley Lane”]. Their whitewashed walls were adorned with little more than two crucifixes and a lithograph of Mary, but their home was filled with the love that cascades around a little Catholic family. They woke when the bells of Castle Church rang out for daybreak, starting the day with some family prayers and daily Mass.  Then Tata [Papa] would saddle the ass and begin the hour trek to his strip of farmland where he grew grapes, wheat, corn, olives, figs, and plums. There were a few sheep and hogs around, and a little cottage there if they had to stay the night, but usually they were back in Pietrelcino for nightfall, eating a dinner of produce from Beppa’s garden – apparently a lot of green beans – and maybe some pasta. If it was a feast day, Mammella [Motherdear] would prepare some of the pork sausage they had saved from last year’s hog. 

Music and stories from the Bible (Grazio was a wonderful storyteller!) and meditation on the life of Christ through their daily rosary filled the last part of the day. Days quickly became years as the life of their family was swept along through the Church’s seasons. One of the children’s favorite stories was that of the great martyred Bishop Januarius, who was buried only 40 miles, but whose blood would sometimes miraculously liquify on his feast day, September 19^th. On the one hand, nothing was notable about the Forgione’s, but on the other hand, their love for God was evident to all, and their fellow townspeople them the “God-is-everything-people”.  

We often hear only the second half of Padre Pio’s story: of his miracles and bilocation; his fervent Masses and the profound encounter with God’s Love that many received going to confession to him; how misunderstood he was by the Church, and the world; his battles with Satan; his love for Mary; his participation in Jesus’ wounds; his prediction that Karol Wojtyla would be called to be the Holy Father… But where did this holy priest come from?: A family, with a farm, and not much more than the simple meals of a loving mother and the saintly stories of a goofy dad, and consistent daily encounters with Jesus, and Mary. They sang and suffered, and loved and labored together, and from that soil grew one of the most captivating lives of all the Church’s saints. It does not take much to become a saint, a mystic, a martyr, or a stigmatist … just saying yes to God’s love into our human lives every single day.

– Fr. Dominic Rankin once visited the tomb of St. Padre Pio. He is enshrined behind glass, beneath a big, modern Church, and thousands meander past every day. Some encounter a saint, some see a celebrity, some scoff at the stories, but a few pilgrims meet there the son of two peasants who loved Jesus with as much of his heart as he could. We can all do that.

Having paused our reflections on the Precepts of the Church for one week (I hope the clarification on the status of some of our priests was helpful), let us return to the topic at hand – the second Precept of the Church:  Confession of serious sins at least once a year

Although I did not plan it this way, our continued reflection on the sometimes difficult topic of confession falls on a Sunday in which the Church provides us probably the most powerful of Jesus’s teaching on His mercy, the Parable of the Prodigal Son.  I do not want to focus too much on that parable in this article, as that is what the homily is for, just to make note of it and to keep the story in our minds as we consider the Father and the great mercy He offers to us as His beloved children in the Sacrament of Reconciliation.

One point that I will highlight from this story is the line where the younger son prepares what he is going to say when he returns to his father’s house.  We can see in this rehearsal a model for us as we prepare to return to the Father’s house in the sacrament.  Preparation is key!  Trust me, we hear a lot of confessions at the Cathedral and it is evident that the best confessions are those when it is clear that somebody has made a good preparation beforehand.  Without preparation, we risk not confessing some of the sins that we should confess.  There is a difference between not being able to recall a sin after a good preparation and simple negligence by not doing any significant preparation.  A good preparation is all the more necessary if it has been some time since our last confession.  A lack of preparation could result in a very vague confession which only speaks in general terms, which is not very beneficial, or we could find ourselves rambling on without much direction – also not very beneficial.

So how should we prepare?  I highly recommend finding a good Examination of Conscience to review.  A quick Internet search will certainly return many options.  Then, ask the Holy Spirit to help you as you examine your conscience.  If you need to, make a list that you can bring into the confessional.  Do not underestimate how unreliable our memory can be, especially when we have our nerves running high once we step into the confessional!  I have heard some people say that making a list is unnecessary, or not advisable out of a fear that somebody might find the list.  But if making a list helps you to make a good confession, by all means, go for it.  Full transparency – I make a list every time I go to confession.  When you are done, destroy the list – shred it or burn it.  When it comes time for making your confession, please stick to your sins.  Please do not confess the sins of another person.  You can only take ownership for your own sins.  Confessing our sins does not need a story, either.  As a priest I know said one time: “if you feel the need to explain it, you might just be making excuses instead of just taking ownership and confessing your sins.”  Plus, we want to be respectful of the time of those who are in line behind us.  Doing a good preparation will enable the flow of the line go much more efficiently.  Not that efficiency is and end in itself, but it is a sign of good courtesy toward your fellow penitents.  

So as you think and pray about your relationship with confession, let me gently encourage you to examine how well you prepare for your confession.  If you truly take the time to do a good preparation, I can guarantee you will benefit greatly from this sacrament the next time you go.  And that experience may well help you to embrace this gift of the Father’s mercy in a new way, such that you are eager to make use of it more frequently as one of the most effective means of truly growing in holiness. 

Father Alford

Last week we reflected on the theological virtue of faith. Today, I would like to reflect on the theological virtue of hope, a virtue by which we desire the Kingdom of Heaven and eternal life as our happiness, it is by putting our trust in Christ.  Hope is conceivably the most challenging of the three theological virtues to understand. It can be depicted as an unwavering trust and assurance that the promises of God will be fulfilled. This trust is centered on Christ who through his Death and Resurrection, has brought us the hope of salvation. The Catechism of the Catholic Church describes the true nature and meaning of the theological virtue of hope.  It states that, “Hope is the theological virtue by which we desire the kingdom of heaven and eternal life as our happiness, placing our trust in Christ’s promises and relying not on our own strength, but on the help of the grace of the Holy Spirit. ‘Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.’ ‘The Holy Spirit … he poured upon us richly through Jesus Christ Savior, so that we might be justified by his grace and become heirs in hope of eternal life.’” (CCC, # 1817).

Living in the hope of resurrection is quite instrumental in the healing process during the bereavement. Without the hope of resurrection there is no belief in life after death. There is no immortality. It is the hope of resurrection that gives meaning to the afterlife. Through the resurrection of Jesus Christ, death is defeated, and eternal life is made sure.  By raising Jesus from the death, God promises all the faithful the same resurrection. In death life is distorted, but in resurrection victory is triumphed. The question St. Paul asks,” O’ death where is your victory? O’ death where is your sting? (I Cor 15: 55). As Christians, sometimes we might ask ourselves same questions especially, when someone close to us, when someone whom we loved so much, when someone who meant so much to us dies, we are deeply hurt, and our heart is troubled, and we begin to question everything. What is life? Why is death? Where is God? 

More than all the avenues, the Church provides wonderful opportunities for healing. This does not mean that all the bereaved families run to Church for comfort and encouragement. On the contrary, most grievers shy away from the Church, feeling at the time that God has betrayed or forsaken them. Where there is hope, there is no despair; where there is despair or hopelessness, there is no hope, but hope in the human life cannot be invaded by despair. Despair can be understood as a momentarily psychological feeling that even affects the spiritual dimension of Christian life. Hope has the last word over despair. With hope, Christians participate to the vision of God, who is eternal life. Stories, such as the resurrection of Lazarus from the dead, for example, make them feel like God has abandoned them, because if He was able to raise Lazarus why can’t He also raise their own. Some of us can think like this. Christ is the only hope of the human person, and he endured the cross, suffered, died, and was raised. This is our Christian hope.  Without hope, our Christian life would become meaningless. What we hope for is everlasting life. Our deceased brothers and sisters have joined whom they have served in their whole life. Now what we cannot see with our corporeal eye, our brothers and sisters are seeing it. This is what Saint John teaches us, “Beloved we are God’s children now, what we shall be has not yet been revealed. we do not know that when it is revealed to us, we shall see him as he is. everyone who has this hope based on him makes himself pure as he is pure.” (1 Jn 3:2-3).   Finally, I invite you to pray through the intercession of Saint John Paul II never to give up on Hope as he encourages us: “I plead with you, never ever give up on hope, never doubt, never tire, and never become discouraged. Be not Afraid” St. John Paul II pray for us.

Feast Day: September 14^th 

This week I draw our reflection directly from St. John Chrysostom (whom I wrote on last year, and who we celebrate on September 13^th, AND being nicknamed golden-tongues, can do a far better job than I on preaching on the Cross of Christ!). Here is one of his homilies, from the 300s, simply entitled “On the Holy Cross”. 

The Cross of the Lord is unpleasant and sorrowful to the ear, but it consists of joy and gladness. It is the originator not so much of suffering as much as of passionlessness. For Jews the Cross is temptation, for pagans it is madness, but for us believers it reminds us of our salvation. When in church one reads about the Cross and one is reminded of the sufferings on the Cross, the faithful are indignant at the Cross and let out a plaintive wail and murmur not at the Cross but at the crucifiers and unbelievers. For the Cross is the salvation of the Church, the Cross is the praise of those who hope on it. The Cross has released us from the evil that possessed us and is the beginning of the blessings received by us. The Cross is the reconcilement of His enemies with God, the promise of sinners to Christ. For by the Cross we were freed from enmity and through the Cross we have become amiable to God. The Cross delivered us from the authority of the devil, the Cross saved us from death and destruction. The Cross changed human nature to the angelic, having released it from all that is corruptible, and have found lives worthy of immortality.

How great is the power of the Cross! How great is the change made by it in the human race! How from the deep darkness it has led us to the boundless light, from death it has restored us to eternal life, from corruption it has transferred us to incorruption. What good is not accomplished for us by means of the Cross? Through the Cross we learned piety and learned the properties of the Divine essence. Through the Cross we learn the truth about God, through the Cross we who were far from Him are united to Christ, and we become worthy of the grace of the Holy Spirit. Through the Cross we learn the power of love and we are taught to die for others. Through the Cross we are scorned and all what we do is not temporal, we search the blessings of the future and we accept the invisible as if seen. The Cross is preached, and the faith in God is confessed, His truth is spread throughout the universe. The Cross is preached, and the faith in the resurrection, the life and the kingdom of heaven is made without a doubt. What is more precious than the Cross and what is more saving for the soul? The Cross is the triumph over demons, the armor against sin and the sword with which the Lord has struck the snake. The Cross is the will of the Father, the glory of the Only-begotten, the joy of the Holy Spirit, the ornament of angels, the protection of the Church, the praise of St. Paul, the protection of the Saints, the lamp of all the world.

See, however desired and deservedly amiable the Cross is made today, it was the most terrible and shameful sign of the cruelest execution in antiquity! And the Cross makes the best ornament on the imperial crown, the most precious in all the world. The image of the Cross is now found on you, both masters and servants, both wives and husbands, both maidens and married, both slaves and free. All place the sign of the Cross on the noblest part of their body, daily carrying this sign on their forehead, as on a depicted pillar. It shines on a sacred meal, on the clothes of the priest and together with the Lord’s body at the mystical supper. You see it lifted everywhere: on houses, in market-places, in the deserts, on the paths, on mountains and hills, on the sea, on ships, on islands, on boxes, on clothes, on armor, in the halls, on golden and silver vessels, in pictures, on the bodies of sick animals, on the bodies of the demon-possessed, in war, in the world, in the afternoon, at night, in festal assemblies and in the cells of the ascetics. Already no one is ashamed and does not blush at the thought that the Cross is a sign of a shameful death. To the contrary, all of us honor this as an adornment for ourselves, which has surpassed crowns and diadems and precious stones. Let us not run, let us not be frightened, but let us kiss and honor it as an invaluable treasure.

– Fr. Dominic Rankin has been reminded, by this feast and homily, and many other recent moments, that he really needs to get the chain fixed for the cross he wore around his neck. It seems a little thing, but we are either marked with Christ’s cross, or something else, and if it’s anything else, it’s not going to carry us to God.