Feast Day: December 29^th

When Thomas Becket was martyred by the knights of Henry II, a young monk, Thomas Grim, was at his side.  Surviving being struck by the same sword-blow that first felled the holy Archbishop, he wrote this firsthand account of the bloody evening, and gives us an intimate glimpse of his virtue and courage:

80. After the monks took [Thomas] through the doors of the church, the four aforementioned knights followed behind with a rapid pace. A certain subdeacon, Hugh the Evil-clerk, named for his wicked offense and armed with their malice, went with them showing no reverence for either God or the saints because by following them he condoned their deed. When the holy archbishop entered the cathedral the monks who were glorifying God abandoned vespers – which they had begun to celebrate for God – and ran to their father whom they had heard was dead but they saw alive and unharmed. They hastened to close the doors of the church in order to bar the enemies from slaughtering the bishop, but the wondrous athlete turned toward them and ordered that the doors be opened. “It is not proper,” he said, “that a house of prayer, a church of Christ, be made a fortress since although it is not shut up, it serves as a fortification for his people; we will triumph over the enemy through suffering rather than by fighting – and we come to suffer, not to resist.“

Without delay the sacrilegious men entered the house of peace and reconciliation with swords drawn; indeed the sight alone as well as the rattle of arms inflicted not a small amount of horror on those who watched. And those knights who approached the confused and disordered people who had been observing vespers but, by now, had run toward the lethal spectacle exclaimed in a rage: “Where is Thomas Becket, traitor of the king and kingdom?” No one responded and instantly they cried out more loudly, “Where is the archbishop?” Unshaken he replied to this voice as it is written, “The righteous will be like a bold lion and free from fear,” he descended from the steps to which he had been taken by the monks who were fearful of the knights and said in an adequately audible voice, “Here I am, not a traitor of the king but a priest; why do you seek me?” And [Thomas], who had previously told them that he had no fear of them added, “Here I am ready to suffer in the name of He who redeemed me with His blood; God forbid that I should flee on account of your swords or that I should depart from righteousness.“

With these words – at the foot of a pillar – he turned to the right. On one side was the altar of the blessed mother of God, on the other the altar of the holy confessor Benedict – through whose example and prayers he had been crucified to the world and his lusts; he endured whatever the murderers did to him with such constancy of the soul that he seemed as if he were not of flesh. The murderers pursued him and asked, “Absolve and restore to communion those you have excommunicated and return to office those who have been suspended.” To these words [Thomas] replied, “No penance has been made, so I will not absolve them.” “Then you,” they said, “will now die and will suffer what you have earned.” “And I,” he said, “am prepared to die for my Lord, so that in my blood the church will attain liberty and peace; but in the name of Almighty God I forbid that you hurt my men, either cleric or layman, in any way.” The glorious martyr acted conscientiously with foresight for his men and prudently on his own behalf, so that no one near him would be hurt as he hastened toward Christ. It was fitting that the soldier of the Lord and the martyr of the Savior adhered to His words when he was sought by the impious, “If it is me you seek, let them leave.“

In this article, I don’t have enough room to include Grim’s entire account, but he records the Archbishop’s final words in paragraph 82. “…with another blow received on the head, he remained firm. But with the third the stricken martyr bent his knees and elbows, offering himself as a living sacrifice, saying in a low voice, “For the name of Jesus and the protection of the church I am ready to embrace death.“”

Thomas Grim, Vita S. Thomae, Cantuariensis Archepiscopi et Martyris (from James Robertson, Materials for the Life of Thomas Becket, London, Rolls Series, 1875-1885. Vol. 2 of 7. Translated by Dawn Marie Hayes and found on the Internet Medieval Source Book.  Want more?  Scan the QR code for the rest of the account (be warned, his death is brutally recounted):

– Fr. Dominic Rankin recently got together with the five other priests who make up his fraternal support group.  Along with praying, eating, enjoying each other’s company, and hearing about the ups and downs while following the Lord, we also had an Advent gift-exchange.  Unwrapping one of the gifts I was given, one of the other guys exclaimed “is that a sword?!”  No, I am not the happy owner of a sword, but I do now have a fine kitchen knife that will help tremendously in meal-prep in the rectory!

This week we turn to the third and final point of reflection inspired by Pope Francis and Pope St. John Paul II.  Having looked to the past with gratitude and having recommitted ourselves to living the present with passion, we now embrace the future with hope.

To aid in our reflection for this week, we can turn to the Pope who served in between the two already mentioned, Pope Benedict XVI.  Pope Benedict wrote a very beautiful reflection on the topic of Christian hope in his second encyclical, Spe Salvi (Saved in Hope).  At the conclusion of the first section, the Holy Father writes about the day-to-day hopes that we have, none of which are bad.  But they are limited.  He then provides the following key understanding of Christian hope:

[W]e need the greater and lesser hopes that keep us going day by day. But these are not enough without the great hope, which must surpass everything else. This great hope can only be God, who encompasses the whole of reality and who can bestow upon us what we, by ourselves, cannot attain. The fact that it comes to us as a gift is actually part of hope. God is the foundation of hope: not any god, but the God who has a human face and who has loved us to the end, each one of us and humanity in its entirety. His Kingdom is not an imaginary hereafter, situated in a future that will never arrive; his Kingdom is present wherever he is loved and wherever his love reaches us. His love alone gives us the possibility of soberly persevering day by day, without ceasing to be spurred on by hope, in a world which by its very nature is imperfect. His love is at the same time our guarantee of the existence of what we only vaguely sense and which nevertheless, in our deepest self, we await: a life that is “truly” life. (31)

It can be an interesting exercise to notice how often we use the word “hope” in our daily vocabulary.  We have so many hopes that help to keep us moving forward.  We must, however, not fall into the trap of thinking that the fulfillment of these hopes will ever be enough.  Only in God can our deepest hope be fulfilled, and only in Him can we truly live.  When we embrace that truth, our future becomes so much brighter.

Look back at the quote above and notice the following sentence: “God is the foundation of hope: not any god, but the God who has a human face and who has loved us to the end, each one of us and humanity in its entirety.”  It is this mystery of God who has a human face that we celebrate at Christmas.  God, the source of our hope and life, has come down into our human condition to become one of us, such that we can look upon Him face to face.  This is truly remarkable!  Many of us will be setting up our nativity sets in our homes soon, and I encourage you to practice the custom of keeping the baby Jesus hidden away until Christmas.  In the days leading up to Christmas, as you look at the scene, let your hearts be filled with hope as you look forward to finally seeing Him lay in the manger on Christmas morning.  Let that be the driving hope in these final days, surpassing other hopes such as what you might get for Christmas presents, or being able to see family members.  All of those are good, but they all fall short of the hope that we have in seeing our God face to face.  When you finally are able to place Christ in the scene, why not give Him some sign of your affection, for in doing so, you are embracing the one who is the fulfillment of our hope.  May that embrace spur us on to persevere on this journey with joy as we look forward to the final goal of our hope, seeing Him face to face in Heaven.

Father Alford    

Feast Day: December 7^th  

Last week, we were able to recount the dramatic shift that happened in the life of Theodosius and Ambrose when, between the years of 374 AD and 381 AD, they both went from being young, popular Roman civil servants to becoming Emperor and Bishop respectively. But climbing the social ladder-of-power was not the most substantial change that occurred in their lives during those years.  Nor was the political promotion they each received the shift that would have the greatest consequences for later history.  The most impactful event in either of their lives during those years was that they each were baptized.  They were set free from original sin; they were made sons of God; and they were given the gifts of Faith, Hope, and Love. 

This month we are investigating the topic of the virtues, and so we look to these men as examples of how the theological virtues can operate in someone’s life.  (We will save the other virtues, specifically the cardinal ones, for next week).  Both Ambrose and Theodosius, in an age that was debating whether Jesus was God, and with all the pressures of the world on their shoulders, chose to be baptized in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and with that interior transformation complete, they then began to practice in their actions and demeaner the exterior transformation that befits a Christian. 

I don’t mean to argue that both of them suddenly were perfect, and yet in the months after receiving this first sacrament, what do we see them doing: upholding the fullness of the faith and responding to the horrors of their day with an exceptional amount of vision, patience, even mercy.  (Theodosius convenes the council of Constantinople, and promulgates the Codex Theodosianus, calling for faith in the Trinity.  Ambrose convokes the synod of Aquileia, and writes De Fide defending the orthodox faith).  In the moment, neither man could have quantified how much grace had changed them, and yet their actions – in retrospect – depict individuals who had allowed themselves to be redirected by those theological virtues. The question would be whether they stayed true to those virtues in times of testing that would come.

In 383, Gratian (the emperor of the West) was killed by Magnus Maximus, placing Gratian’s 12 year old heir, Valentinian II, on the throne.  The boy, and his mother (who acted as his regent), were Arian, and within two years were attempting to takeover Catholic Churches for the use of the Arians.  (She, Justina, still hated Ambrose for his helping to appoint an orthodox bishop to Sirmium, whom they had clashed with years before, and couldn’t stand his strident defense of Jesus’ divinity and all the corollaries from that).  Ambrose stubbornly barricaded himself inside the Church, and sent this scathing reply to the Emperor who had soldiers at his door:

“If you demand my person, I am ready to submit: carry me to prison or to death, I will not resist; but I will never betray the church of Christ. I will not call upon the people to succour me; I will die at the foot of the altar rather than desert it. The tumult of the people I will not encourage: but God alone can appease it.”

Valentinian backed down and Ambrose continued to teach his congregation the simple songs that upheld the full-faith he had so boldly defended.  The political situation being what it was, Valentinian and Justina’s schemes were derailed further by Maximus coming for them with an army.  They fled, and were only rescued by the happily orthodox Theodosius sweeping in from the East. This year, 388, seems to also be the time when our two characters first meet in person!  It was not the last. 

In 390, after a riot took place in Thessalonica (in which, it seems one of his military leaders was killed), Theodosius sent in troops to punish the city, and they brutally murdered thousands of the Thessalonians as they were gathered in their town circus.  This, just as much as Valentinian’s heresy, was contrary to the Catholic faith, and so we now find Theodosius outside Ambrose’s Cathedral, not with an army threatening to storm the altar, but humble and contrite for his sins.  Ambrose forced the Emperor to wait 6 months before accepting his contrition as forthright and allowing him to return to Holy Communion.

Theodosius would eventually become the last single person to rule the entire Roman Empire, dying in 395, in Milan, repentant and faithful to the end.  Ambrose would die 2 years later, still archbishop of that same city, where so many of the crises and characters of the previous decades had crossed.  Both men were sorely tried in the virtues of their baptism, we should expect the same for ourselves.  Regardless of the trials we face, God will provide the courage, and clemency, we need to remain faithful.

– Fr. Dominic Rankin’s favorite songs are Advent hymns.  There is something so gentle and powerful in their heralding the coming of Christ.  Ambrose composed one of the greatest of these hymns, Veni Redemptor Gentium.  Here are the final 3 stanzas (translated into English).  The divinity of the Christ child has not been forgotten here!

5. From God the Father He proceeds,
To God the Father back He speeds;
His course He runs to death and hell,
Returning on God’s throne to dwell.

6. O equal to the Father, Thou!
Gird on Thy fleshly mantle now;
The weakness of our mortal state
With deathless might invigorate.

7. Thy cradle here shall glitter bright
And darkness breathe a newer light,
Where endless faith shall shine serene,
And twilight never intervene.