Feast Day: March 23^rd 

I wonder if resentment is one of the things that most strongly holds us back from greater, and more Christ-like, charity? Isn’t it easier to chalk our lack of charity up to fears or a lack of courage; or perhaps our busy-ness and a lack of prudence in scheduling things; or the direct attack of the Evil One???  Looking in myself, I find that sometimes this lack is the less-glamorous, less-acceptable, vice of resentment. To respond to someone’s request, or need, or to anticipate how I should love them – to share myself with them – requires me to put their need above my own, to put their life ahead of mine, to put their schedule on my calendar before my own preferences go on there. And I resent it when my needs go second!

As I write this in a coffeeshop, a gentleman just asked if I’d buy him a sandwich.  I procrastinated in my charity towards him, why?  Not because I don’t have money, not because it will cost me time I don’t have, not because he’s going to mis-use a sandwich, not because Satan shook his pitchfork at me …  but because I resented Kenny’s reliance on me, his expectation that I would help, his asking that I would love Him like Jesus loves him.  Whew, that hurts to say that! I want to love, I desire to be more generous, I hope to see in myself Jesus’ kindness and mercy and care … but the ugly tendency to resent holds me back. 

I realized this as I meditated today on the life of St. Turibius of Mogrovejo.  He was a canon lawyer in Spain, in fact the Grand Inquisitor of that country (growing up in his namesake town of Mogrovejo) a studious and intelligent young man, who had been asked by King Philip II to hold that estimable position. The same monarch in 1578 would nominate the pious and productive Turibio as a candidate for the Episcopacy, to fill the See of Lima, Peru, though he was not yet even ordained!  Of course, he protested that he was not ready or desirous of that vocation, but, in the end at the age of 41 or 42, he accepted the King’s request, and Pope’s confirmation, was ordained a deacon, priest, and then bishop, and set sail for the New World.

If I had to slog through mosquito infested, ferociously humid jungles and mountains, I would have resented King Philip … If I had to sleep in the open because nobody had thought to prepare a place for me to stay, I would probably have resented the Pope’s go ahead…  If I was called to prepare, baptize, and confirm 500,000 individuals, I would have certainly resented the lazy and corrupt priests that were already there and not doing diddlysquat… (Remarkable fact: he confirmed three future canonized saints among those: St. Rose of Lima, St. Martin de Porres, and St. Juan Masías). As I caught fever after fever in the horrendous conditions, and knew that it would be the death of me (Turibius was given the knowledge, and grace, of knowing precisely when he would die), especially that last march, dragging myself 50 miles from Pacasmayo to Zaña to receive Extreme Unction and Viaticum, I would have resented even/especially God Who had demanded from me such efforts and such a dismal death.

But Turibius, evidently, did not let resentment corrupt those requests for charity  He endured the hardships of his unexpected vocation, and preached again and again that “Time is not our own and we must give a strict account of it.”  He did not consider his time, energy, love, or life to be his, and so he did not resent when he was asked to share it. His final words, after receiving those final sacraments, on Holy Thursday of 1606, were those of Jesus: “Lord, into Thy hands I commend my spirit.” May his intercession help us to be similarly generous with our own lives, and defend us against the clutch of resentment!

– Fr. Dominic Rankin, as the Master of Ceremonies for Bishop Paprocki, is assisting currently with our own bishop’s pastoral visits around the diocese, as well as his giving the sacraments of Confirmation and 1^st Communion, here at the Cathedral. With the help and example of St. Turibius, he prays that all these occasions where duty asks him to help in various ways may also be occasions of authentic charity and self-gift.

x

Feast Day: March 23^rd 

I wonder if resentment is one of the things that most strongly holds us back from greater, and more Christ-like, charity? Isn’t it easier to chalk our lack of charity up to fears or a lack of courage; or perhaps our busy-ness and a lack of prudence in scheduling things; or the direct attack of the Evil One???  Looking in myself, I find that sometimes this lack is the less-glamorous, less-acceptable, vice of resentment. To respond to someone’s request, or need, or to anticipate how I should love them – to share myself with them – requires me to put their need above my own, to put their life ahead of mine, to put their schedule on my calendar before my own preferences go on there. And I resent it when my needs go second!

As I write this in a coffeeshop, a gentleman just asked if I’d buy him a sandwich.  I procrastinated in my charity towards him, why?  Not because I don’t have money, not because it will cost me time I don’t have, not because he’s going to mis-use a sandwich, not because Satan shook his pitchfork at me …  but because I resented Kenny’s reliance on me, his expectation that I would help, his asking that I would love Him like Jesus loves him.  Whew, that hurts to say that! I want to love, I desire to be more generous, I hope to see in myself Jesus’ kindness and mercy and care … but the ugly tendency to resent holds me back. 

I realized this as I meditated today on the life of St. Turibius of Mogrovejo.  He was a canon lawyer in Spain, in fact the Grand Inquisitor of that country (growing up in his namesake town of Mogrovejo) a studious and intelligent young man, who had been asked by King Philip II to hold that estimable position. The same monarch in 1578 would nominate the pious and productive Turibio as a candidate for the Episcopacy, to fill the See of Lima, Peru, though he was not yet even ordained!  Of course, he protested that he was not ready or desirous of that vocation, but, in the end at the age of 41 or 42, he accepted the King’s request, and Pope’s confirmation, was ordained a deacon, priest, and then bishop, and set sail for the New World.

If I had to slog through mosquito infested, ferociously humid jungles and mountains, I would have resented King Philip … If I had to sleep in the open because nobody had thought to prepare a place for me to stay, I would probably have resented the Pope’s go ahead…  If I was called to prepare, baptize, and confirm 500,000 individuals, I would have certainly resented the lazy and corrupt priests that were already there and not doing diddlysquat… (Remarkable fact: he confirmed three future canonized saints among those: St. Rose of Lima, St. Martin de Porres, and St. Juan Masías). As I caught fever after fever in the horrendous conditions, and knew that it would be the death of me (Turibius was given the knowledge, and grace, of knowing precisely when he would die), especially that last march, dragging myself 50 miles from Pacasmayo to Zaña to receive Extreme Unction and Viaticum, I would have resented even/especially God Who had demanded from me such efforts and such a dismal death.

But Turibius, evidently, did not let resentment corrupt those requests for charity  He endured the hardships of his unexpected vocation, and preached again and again that “Time is not our own and we must give a strict account of it.”  He did not consider his time, energy, love, or life to be his, and so he did not resent when he was asked to share it. His final words, after receiving those final sacraments, on Holy Thursday of 1606, were those of Jesus: “Lord, into Thy hands I commend my spirit.” May his intercession help us to be similarly generous with our own lives, and defend us against the clutch of resentment!

– Fr. Dominic Rankin, as the Master of Ceremonies for Bishop Paprocki, is assisting currently with our own bishop’s pastoral visits around the diocese, as well as his giving the sacraments of Confirmation and 1^st Communion, here at the Cathedral. With the help and example of St. Turibius, he prays that all these occasions where duty asks him to help in various ways may also be occasions of authentic charity and self-gift.

I realize last week’s challenge of not hitting your Snooze button on your alarm might have been a challenge, but I commend you if you were willing to accept the challenge.  I often use the analogy of weight training when considering our growing in virtue.  If you want to build muscle, you need to have resistance.  So to with virtue – we need to encounter resistance in our lives which gives us the opportunity to practice virtue and so be strengthened.

For this week’s challenge, I would like to turn to our March Family of Faith topic:  The New Commandment, the Works of Mercy, and the First through Fourth Beatitudes.  This is a broad topic, so let’s just focus on the Works of Mercy.  The Church offers us two categories when it comes to the Works of Mercy – corporal and spiritual.  I came across a quote the other day which sums up these works well: “Mercy is the form love takes when it encounters misery.”  Lent calls this reality to mind as we consider the mercy of God who sent His Son to die for our sins – the greatest act of mercy to alleviate the misery of our fallen condition due to sin.  The challenge for this week is a combination of a couple of the spiritual works of mercy – bearing wrongs patiently and praying for the living and the dead:

Challenge:  Pray for your enemies
Fruit:  Growing more merciful

We heard in the Gospel a few Sundays ago where Jesus said: “love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.” (Lk 6:27-28)  I want you to think of a person that you really find it hard to love.  That could be somebody close to you or just somebody you know about.  Once you have thought of that person, instead of listing off all of the reasons why you do not like / love them, say a prayer for them.  Say something like this: “Lord, you love this person.  You want them to become a saint.  I find it hard to see the good you see in them, but I want, more than anything, for your will to be done.  So I pray for them, that you will bless them, and give them what they need in order to become a saint.”

Say a prayer like that every day.  I realize it might be hard, but it is not impossible, because Jesus does not command the impossible.  There is a big difference between can’t and won’t.  And if we are unwilling to do this, well, then we will have a very hard time trying to make the case that we are a true follower of Jesus Christ.

As an added challenge (I read this from a reflection from Bishop Barron), at the end of the week, list off all of the negative things you can think about that person, then go before the Lord and ask forgiveness for when you yourself have been guilty of those same things.  That gives new weight to the words of Jesus from another recent Gospel: “Remove the wooden beam from your eye first; then you will see clearly to remove the splinter in your brother’s eye.” (Lk 6:42)

Speaking of mercy, I would like to also take this opportunity to invite you to another very important spiritual practice that is key to growing in holiness – going to confession to encounter God’s mercy toward us.  If you have not been in a while, Lent is a great time to go.  Nothing (apart from the Eucharist) is more conducive to our growing in holiness than having the misery of our sins lifted.  Let me be so bold to say that if it has been more than a month since your last confession, it would be a good idea to go this Lent.  Let me be even more bold in saying that if this is the only extra thing you do this Lent, it will have been a fruitful Lent.  As a reminder, one of the priests of the Cathedral is waiting to welcome you to the sacrament of God’s mercy every day (note our normal confession times in the bulletin) and we will have extended hours for confession this coming Friday and Saturday.  Confessions on Friday are from 12:30 pm until 7:00 pm, then on Saturday from 9:00 am until 4:00 pm.  As an extra credit bonus challenge – invite a family member of friend to join you when you come to confession!

Father Alford    

Earlier this week, I was out of town giving a parish retreat somewhere in the eastern part of our diocese. During this time, I had the opportunity to visit several homebound parishioners during the day when I had some free time. These visits, like in Springfield, are among the most fulfilling parts of pastoral ministry for me. Because, beyond administering the sacraments to people who truly desire them, those visits are beautiful opportunities to listen to stories and histories that one may never hear elsewhere. Also, such visits provide amazing prospects for encounters with folks who have lived multiple decades of their lives growing with and in the Church they love and serve.

One of my visits was to a lady in her late nineties. For privacy reasons, I will call her Bema here. Bema was sharp and strong mentally and spiritually. Her physical strength is failing and limits her abilities to stand and walk. So she is homebound. But her limited mobility has not stopped Bema from keeping up with political and Church news, with her prayer life and daily Mass attendance online.

When I asked Bema what her secret was for being so sharp even with her vision and hearing, she laughed and said she loves her whiskey. She strongly believes that her glass of whisky every morning for way more than half a century is responsible for her good health. She went ahead to convince me that it works and that I should try it. We both laughed as I asked her what she was doing for Lent.

The question of what Bema is doing for Lent brought an answer that provoked a deeper understanding of the word “sacrifice” in me. First, she told me she gives up her daily glass of whisky every Lent. According to Bema, giving up her daily glass of whisky is the most significant sacrifice for her. That nothing else can cause her enough anguish than giving up something she treasures the most, which she can still do without.

Also, Bema said something else that I have been talking about in my homilies since the beginning of Lent. She explained that she donates the cost of a bottle of her choicest whisky to her favorite charity at the end of Lent every year. Again, I asked why she thinks it is important to do such. Bema told me that if she only gives up her daily glass of whiskey every Lent without making that donation, she would just be saving her whiskey. THAT IS TRUE!

Two lessons from my visit with Bema

1. If we must journey with Christ in the wilderness this Lent by fasting from something, it must be something we truly cherish. We must fast from something that doing without it is capable of causing us some real distress.
2. We must allow our fasting to benefit someone else. For example, suppose I must fast from meat this lent. In that case, I have to check the average cost of my monthly meat consumption and donate it to a person or organization that needs it.

May our Lenten sacrifices bring us closer to Jesus Christ. Amen.

Many years ago, I heard some advice about Lent that has always stuck with me.  The advice was that the best sacrifices to offer up are those we do not choose for ourselves.  If we are honest with ourselves, don’t we sometimes choose things to do or give up for Lent that we are pretty confident we can be successful at?  I am not saying that is necessarily bad, but a true sign of our willingness to make sacrifices is to accept something we have not chosen.

With that though in mind, I tried something with the parish where I served as Pastor before coming to the Cathedral.  Each week during Lent, I would offer a challenge for the parish to consider undertaking.  I was very encouraged with the response from the parish as they appreciated the challenge.  I think there was something else that made the practice successful – we were all trying to undertake the challenge together.  With that in mind, I would like to introduce these weekly Lenten challenges as a way for all of us to be in union with one another this Lent.  This will also give us a chance to offer something up which we have not specifically chosen, providing variety to our spiritual lives as well as an opportunity to practice different virtues which will help us to grow in holiness.  Each week, I’ll provide the challenge, list one of the fruits of undertaking that challenge, and some commentary on the challenge.  So, are you up for the challenge(s)?  Here we go, then…

Challenge:  Give up hitting the snooze button
Fruit:  Conquering your will

For full transparency here – this is a repeat challenge that I offered to my previous parish.  A lot of people spoke about how hard it was, so I thought it would be a good place to start!  One of the great promoters of this practice is a fairly modern saint, Saint Josemaría Escrivá.  He calls this practice “the Heroic Minute” and describes it with these words:

Conquer yourself each day from the very first moment, getting up on the dot, at a fixed time, without yielding a single minute to laziness. If, with God’s help, you conquer yourself, you will be well ahead for the rest of the day. (The Way, 191) … The heroic minute. It is the time fixed for getting up. Without hesitation: a supernatural reflection and… up! The heroic minute: here you have a mortification that strengthens your will and does no harm to your body. (The Way, 206)

Give it a shot, and feel free to share your experience with me next Sunday as you walk out of Mass.  And don’t worry, see these challenges as opportunities, not obligations.  I’m not requiring anybody to do anything, just inviting.  And if you stumble in the challenge, don’t beat yourself up.  Get back up, ask for God’s help, and try again!

Also, this could be a good opportunity to recommit (or begin) the challenge we offered at the beginning of the year to pray Three Hail Mary’s each day for our parish – one for the clergy of the parish, one for yourself, and one for the entire parish.

Finally, if you have an ideas for a challenge that I can invite the parish to consider for a week, I am open to suggestions!

Father Alford     

This years’ Lenten season has just begun. A 40-days special period in the Church’s calendar when Christians, who seek a more intimate relationship with Jesus Christ, choose to journey with him in the wilderness. Christ suffered hunger, thirstiness, loneliness, slander, and persecution in this wilderness. Above all, he reflected continuously on his upcoming passion and death on the cross during this time. He prayed relentlessly that God’s will be done. In all these, Christ did not complain or curse. Instead, he gave up everything and embraced his sufferings for the greater glory of God and the redemption of sinful humanity.

By giving up everything, Jesus received everything from the Father. These include the salvation of the broken human race whom he condescended to their likeness, suffered for, and died to redeem.

During his ministry on earth with his disciples, Jesus constantly emphasized the need to live a detached life. He preached this in both words and actions. Attachment to the things of this world, he believes, is an obstacle to the salvation that he (Christ) suffered and died on the Cross to gain for humanity. There is no mention of Jesus owning houses, vehicles, electronics, gadgets, or similar things throughout the gospels. No one ever told of Jesus going on vacation with his parents or friends. And he commanded large followership, but Jesus never abused his power or used it for his selfish interests.

While he does not condemn material things, Jesus strongly urges us to live our lives detached from them. Because when we are detached from our earthly possessions, skills, and powers, we are better able to use them for the glory of God and the good of humanity. We read in the gospels about Jesus feeding groups of people on various occasions, hanging out with strangers, the poor, and sick people. Jesus preached love and repentance to his friends and enemies, the rich and the poor, the powerful and the commoners alike.

Jesus, on one occasion, while with his disciples, received a rich man who came to him and explained how he had lived an upright life since his youth. Jesus commended the rich man and asked him to do one more thing. The one more thing was to detach himself from his earthly possessions and ratify his relationship with God. Unfortunately, that was too much for the rich man.

Moved by the incident, Peter reminded Jesus of how they (the disciples) have given up everything to follow him (Jesus). Jesus assured Peter that they, who have left everything to follow him, will not regret it.

As Christians, this Lent is another privileged opportunity to enter the wilderness with Christ! Peter and his fellow disciples entered the wilderness by giving up family and material possessions to closely follow Christ. While we may not give up family and possessions the same way they did, there are too many ways to accomplish this goal. We can give up or take up things as sacrificial ways of following Christ more closely. When we give or take something up this Lent, let us remember to do those with sincere intentions to detach ourselves from our excessive attachments to the things of this world. May this Lenten season bring us closer to Jesus Christ in word and action. Amen.

As we come to our conclusion of the month of February, we consider the last of the Ten Commandments: “You shall not covet your neighbor’s house; you shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, or his manservant, or his maidservant, or his ox, or his donkey, or anything that is your neighbor’s.” (Exodus 20:17) We do not often use the language of covetousness in our confessions, but we often use words like envy or jealousy.  Even that can be a bit of a gray area, so what does this commandment really mean?

The Modern Catholic Dictionary by Father John Hardon, S.J. defines covetousness in this way: “A strong desire for possessions, especially material possessions. It implies that the desire is inordinate, with allusion to the prohibition in the Ten Commandments not to covet what belongs to someone else.”  I draw your attention to the word “inordinate” in this definition.  It is not bad for us to desire things, such as money, reputation, health, etc.  In fact, it can be very good to desire these things, but to always desire them in an ordered way.  Ordered toward what?  Since Jesus reminds us that all the commandments can be summed up as expressions of love of God and love of neighbor, this is where our desire for things must be ordered.  For example, we can desire financial stability as long as those resources do not prevent us from being generous in our support for the Church and our love of others through charity.  A disordered desire for money would be to accumulate more things and experiences just for ourselves, to the exclusion of helping others.  We should desire health so that we can be of good service to our families and those around us.  A disordered desire would be for people to be attracted to us so that we can get more attention or recognition.

This commandment calls us to be especially careful not to fall into envy.  We often notice the things others have and something stirs in our hearts.  On the one hand, we might rightly desire to also have what they have, which is not always bad.  But when we feel sadness about what someone else has been blessed with, if we wish we could take what they have, or harbor a grudge against them for what they have, we are falling into envy, and envy is sinful because it lacks charity toward another.  Here is what the Catechism has to say about envy:

2539 Envy is a capital sin. It refers to the sadness at the sight of another’s goods and the immoderate desire to acquire them for oneself, even unjustly. When it wishes grave harm to a neighbor it is a mortal sin: (1866)

St. Augustine saw envy as “the diabolical sin.” “From envy are born hatred, detraction, calumny, joy caused by the misfortune of a neighbor, and displeasure caused by his prosperity.”

2540 Envy represents a form of sadness and therefore a refusal of charity; the baptized person should struggle against it by exercising good will. Envy often comes from pride; the baptized person should train himself to live in humility: (1829)

Would you like to see God glorified by you? Then rejoice in your brother’s progress and you will immediately give glory to God. Because his servant could conquer envy by rejoicing in the merits of others, God will be praised. (St. John Chrysostom)

To proactively guard against falling into envy, the best thing is to foster an “attitude of gratitude”, taking time each day to thank God for the blessings you have been given, those seen and unseen, always aware that they are signs of His unique and particular love for you.  Then, having given thanks for your blessings, thank Him for the blessings He has given to somebody else.  To do so is an expression of love of God and neighbor.

Father Alford