This week, at daily Mass, Fr. Drew got hit with the pesky flies written about by Fr. Rich in the September issue of the Northern Cross. What follows is his column, which was referenced by Fr. Drew in “light” of the pests dropping close to his chalice–thankfully covered with a “pall.”
Spinning Flies Give Insight into How to Think of Satan September 2019, Northern Cross
This is the time of the year when flies become weird. The summer has wrapped up, colder weather is upon us, and flies just don’t know how to be flies anymore. They don’t know how to move fast, unless it is on their back spinning a hundred miles per hour.
When I was a kid, I used to think that was really cool, but now I just step on them when they are spinning. Flies that once were a nuisance in the spring become a different kind of nuisance in the fall and early winter.
This might seem like an odd transition, but stick with me. One of the things that has become increasingly popular for priests over the past several years is the use of the pall at Mass. For centuries palls (the small cardboard-like square placed on chalices) were an ever-present part of the Mass, but following the Second Vatican Council, they fell out of favor with most priests and thus were abandoned.
In fairness to the priests who stopped using them, palls came into practical existence a long time ago to prevent “creepy-crawly” things from getting into the chalice, but for the vast majority of us in this part of the world, there is not a great risk of that happening. So letting the use of the pall go by the wayside was in some ways understandable.
So here is the connection. In my last parish assignment, at St. John’s in Duluth, I had an ongoing issue that made the pall suddenly become practical again. Right above the altar, way up high on the A-framed ceiling, were four lights directed down to the altar. These lights were very bright, and mostly during the fall and spring, flies that were not thinking right (or not thinking at all) would fly up into the lights.
The problem was that these lights produced a lot of heat, so when these little critters hit the lights, they would get singed, and they would literally drop like flies, because they were flies.
Being that the lights were right above the altar, at any given time fly carcasses would randomly drop near the chalice, so that pall that once was practical became practical again!
If it were not for the pall on my chalice, there was a great risk of my having to consume these cooked flies along with the Precious Blood. To say the least, these little creatures of God were a big nuisance, but that is all that they were — a nuisance.
At this point I am sure I am trying your patience with this column, but here is my big point. Several times throughout three of the Gospels, Matthew, Mark, and Luke, the Pharisees and even Jesus refer to the devil as “Beelzebul,” most famously when the Pharisees accuse Jesus of using the dark and evil power of Beelzebul to cast out lesser demons. So in the New Testament, Beelzebul in essence becomes the name for the prince of demons.
Now, I suspect that the vast majority do not use that name in our common day-to-day conversations, since in English the prince of demons is called either Satan or Lucifer.
A closer look at the name “Beelzebul” kind of makes the prince of demons a lot less scary. The original spelling of Beelzebul in something called the “Masoretic text” was “Beelzebub,” which literally means “Lord of the Flies” or even “Lord of Dung.”
So here is the connection: Flies are nothing more than a nuisance, just like they were at my Masses when I was pastor at St. John’s. They really do not pose a threat in any way whatsoever. Dung is also a nuisance, especially when you step in it, though that does not help me make my point.
Even the great Italian poet Dante presents Lucifer or Beelzebul as a pretty pathetic creature, in his epic work “The Divine Comedy.” In the 34th Canto of the “Inferno,” as Dante is about to leave his tour of hell, he finally sees the prince of demons and realizes he is not really that scary. Satan is portrayed as frozen in ice from the waist down while crying profusely because he is so lonely. This, of course, makes sense, since hell is the complete absence of God.
In either instance, Satan is nothing to be afraid of. He is both a pathetic creature and nothing more than a nuisance. The devil only has the power we allow him to have. We become “low hanging fruit” for him to snatch away when we stray from the sacraments and virtuous living and prayer.
St. Teresa of Avila once said that, “People who do not pray do not need the devil to tempt them.” So as we proceed closer to the colder months and you see those pathetic little flies spinning on their backs, know that you have the same power to crush them with your feet as you do to crush Satan with the power of Jesus, since in essence those crazy flies and Satan have so much in common.
Real Presence Radio hosts, Fr. Rich & Fr. Ryan, interviewed the main act for the Built Upon a Rock Festival coming on September 14 on the campus of Holy Rosary Cathedral. Please enjoy these minutes with him!
In the spirit of Saint Maximilian Kolbe, on his feast day, do something sacrificial for someone. —Father Drew Braun
Saint Maximilian Kolbe, Martyr (1894 – 1941)
The Franciscan friar, Maximilian Mary Kolbe, died in the Auschwitz concentration camp on August 14, 1941. Two weeks earlier, a prisoner had gone missing. The commandant, Karl Fristsch, announced the penalty to the entire camp: ten men would die in the starvation bunker. As his name was called, Franciszek Gajowniczek cried out, “My wife, my children!” Father Maximilian stepped forward and offered to take his place. He and the other nine men were tossed naked into a concrete hole in Building 13.
Francixzek Gajowniczek is pictured below at the canonization of Maximilian Kolbe. The saint saved his life and he was privileged to be a part of the canonization
The camp prisoners waited to hear the howls of anguish coming from the bunker. Instead, they heard feeble voices raised in prayer and hymns of praise. Maximilian was encouraging the men. A Pole assigned to serve at the bunker later told how at each inspection the priest was always in the middle of them, standing or kneeling in prayer. After two weeks, only Maximilian remained alive. When the SS men entered the cell, he offered his arm for their lethal injection.
One prisoner later said his death was “a shock filled with hope, bringing new life and strength…It was like a powerful shaft of light in the darkness of the camp.” Maximilian is a patron of families, for he gave his life for the father of a family. He is a patron of prisoners, for he gave hope to the condemned. —Lisa Lickona, The Magnificat Year of Mercy Companion, page 320 Maximillian Kolbe died, August 14, 1941.
The Mass in Red, & Its Significance
To His Holiness, Pope John Paul II, who, attentive to truth, to justice, and to the voice of the people, proclaimed the martyrdom of Maximilian Kolbe.
The Mass in Red
(On the day of the canonization of Maximilian Kolbe) his brother Franciscans prayed fervently that his fellow countryman would be proclaimed a martyr by John Paul II.His hopes hesitated between joy and fear.
Right up to the end, difficulties were posed by experts. They cast no doubt on the sanctity of Kolbe, whose heroism they had acknowledged. A man dedicated to the Gospel, imprisoned at Auschwitz, gave his life to save a fellow prisoner; he was condemned to starve to death. Theologians wanted his canonized as a confessor and not a martyr. Since he hadn’t been interrogated by his executioners about the Faith, did he qualify? Would John Paul feel bound by the opinion of theologians, or would he pass over it to respond to universal expectation and his own desire.
Sunday, October 10,1982: 200 thousand people assembled for the canonization. Confessor? Martyr. John Paul, the genius of communication had said nothing, and let God be his only confidant.
The altar was ready, banked with flowers. All was ready. the coat of arms of John Paul was displayed. A portrait of Maximilian Kolbe in his black, Franciscan robe. Confessor? Martyr? No one knew.Would John Paul pass over contrary opinion and proclaim himself in favor of the verdict of martyrdom?
The crowd only found out when the Pope appeared in red vestments, and after a moment of silence, there was a great murmur of ratification. When the officials approached John Paul to ask him to inscribe Kolbe in the canon of saints, the Pope did not reply right away. After they knelt to recite the Litany of the Saints, all rose to hear the Pope’s reply: To the glory of the most Blessed Trinity, for the exaltation of the Catholic Faith and the growth of Christian life, by the authority of Jesus Christ, the Apostles Peter and Paul, and by our own authority…after having reflected at length, we declare and decree that the Blessed Maximilian Kolbe is a saint; and that he shall be inscribed the the canon of saints and throughout the Church, piously honored among the martyrs.
In the homily, John Paul continued, “There is no greater love than that a man give his life for those he loves.”
It is true that theology can argue about martyrdom, love cannot. Thus, on that October Sunday, in that place where the Church has always invited to pardon and called for mercy, one generous heart celebrated another. —-Forget Not Love, by Andre Frossard,The Passion of Maximilian Kolbe.
Pope Saint Paul VI, PopeSaint John Paul II & Saint Maximilian Kolbe, pray for us!
At the behest of our pastor, we are publishing the August 4 letter Pope Francis has written to his brother priests about his ongoing concern for them as a result of the sexual abuse crisis that has cast a shadow over all of them–this despite the fact they have given their lives in service to us and are innocent.
We offer this in its entirety and offer our support of our own pastor who has brought nothing but good to the parishes of St. John & St. Joseph. Be assured, Father Drew, of our continued prayers for you and our gratitude for the gift of your life to us.
The Letter of Pope Francis
To my Brother Priests
A hundred and sixty years have passed since the death of the holy Curé of Ars, whom Pope Pius XI proposed as the patron of parish priests throughout the world. On this, his feast day, I write this letter not only to parish priests but to all of you, my brother priests, who have quietly “left all behind” in order to immerse yourselves in the daily life of your communities. Like the Curé of Ars, you serve “in the trenches”, bearing the burden of the day and the heat (cf. Mt 20:12), confronting an endless variety of situations in your effort to care for and accompany God’s people. I want to say a word to each of you who, often without fanfare and at personal cost, amid weariness, infirmity and sorrow, carry out your mission of service to God and to your people. Despite the hardships of the journey, you are writing the finest pages of the priestly life.
Some time ago, I shared with the Italian bishops my worry that, in more than a few places, our priests feel themselves attacked and blamed for crimes they did not commit. I mentioned that priests need to find in their bishop an older brother and a father who reassures them in these difficult times, encouraging and supporting them along the way.
As an older brother and a father, I too would like in this letter to thank you in the name of the holy and faithful People of God for all that you do for them, and to encourage you never to forget the words that the Lord spoke with great love to us on the day of our ordination. Those words are the source of our joy: “I no longer call you servants… I call you friends” (Jn 15:15).
“I have seen the suffering of my people” (Ex 3:7)
In these years, we have become more attentive to the cry, often silent and suppressed, of our brothers and sisters who were victims of the abuse of power, the abuse of conscience and sexual abuse on the part of ordained ministers. This has been a time of great suffering in the lives of those who experienced such abuse, but also in the lives of their families and of the entire People of God.
As you know, we are firmly committed to carrying out the reforms needed to encourage from the outset a culture of pastoral care, so that the culture of abuse will have no room to develop, much less continue. This task is neither quick nor easy: it demands commitment on the part of all. If in the past, omission may itself have been a kind of response, today we desire conversion, transparency, sincerity and solidarity with victims to become our concrete way of moving forward. This in turn will help make us all the more attentive to every form of human suffering.
This pain has also affected priests. I have seen it in the course of my pastoral visits in my own diocese and elsewhere, in my meetings and personal conversations with priests. Many have shared with me their outrage at what happened and their frustration that “for all their hard work, they have to face the damage that was done, the suspicion and uncertainty to which it has given rise, and the doubts, fears and disheartenment felt by more than a few”. I have received many letters from priests expressing those feelings. At the same time, I am comforted by my meetings with pastors who recognize and share the pain and suffering of the victims and of the People of God, and have tried to find words and actions capable of inspiring hope.
Without denying or dismissing the harm caused by some of our brothers, it would be unfair not to express our gratitude to all those priests who faithfully and generously spend their lives in the service of others (cf. 2 Cor 12:15). They embody a spiritual fatherhood capable of weeping with those who weep. Countless priests make of their lives a work of mercy in areas or situations that are often hostile, isolated or ignored, even at the risk of their lives. I acknowledge and appreciate your courageous and steadfast example; in these times of turbulence, shame and pain, you demonstrate that you have joyfully put your lives on the line for the sake of the Gospel.
I am convinced that, to the extent that we remain faithful to God’s will, these present times of ecclesial purification will make us more joyful and humble, and prove, in the not distant future, very fruitful. “Let us not grow discouraged! The Lord is purifying his Bride and converting all of us to himself. He is letting us be put to the test in order to make us realize that without him we are simply dust. He is rescuing us from hypocrisy, from the spirituality of appearances. He is breathing forth his Spirit in order to restore the beauty of his Bride, caught in adultery. We can benefit from rereading the sixteenth chapter of Ezekiel. It is the history of the Church, and each of us can say it is our history too. In the end, through your sense of shame, you will continue to act as a shepherd. Our humble repentance, expressed in silent tears before these atrocious sins and the unfathomable grandeur of God’s forgiveness, is the beginning of a renewal of our holiness”.
“I do not cease to give thanks for you” (Eph 1:16).
Vocation, more than our own choice, is a response to the Lord’s unmerited call. We do well to return constantly to those passages of the Gospel where we see Jesus praying, choosing and calling others “to be with him, and to be sent out to proclaim the message” (Mk 3:14).
Here I think of a great master of the priestly life in my own country, Father Lucio Gera. Speaking to a group of priests at a turbulent time in Latin America, he told them: “Always, but especially in times of trial, we need to return to those luminous moments when we experienced the Lord’s call to devote our lives to his service”. I myself like to call this “the deuteronomic memory of our vocation”; it makes each of us go back “to that blazing light with which God’s grace touched me at the start of the journey. From that flame, I can light a fire for today and every day, and bring heat and light to my brothers and sisters. That flame ignites a humble joy, a joy which sorrow and distress cannot dismay, a good and gentle joy”.
One day, each of us spoke up and said “yes”, a “yes” born and developed in the heart of the Christian community thanks to those “saints next door” who showed us by their simple faith that it was worthwhile committing ourselves completely to the Lord and his kingdom. A “yes” whose implications were so momentous that often we find it hard to imagine all the goodness that it continues to produce. How beautiful it is when an elderly priest sees or is visited by those children – now adults – whom he baptized long ago and who now gratefully introduce a family of their own! At times like this, we realize that we were anointed to anoint others, and that God’s anointing never disappoints. I am led to say with the Apostle: “I do not cease to give thanks for you” (cf. Eph 1:16) and for all the good that you have done.
Amid trials, weakness and the consciousness of our limitations, “the worst temptation of all is to keep brooding over our troubles” for then we lose our perspective, our good judgement and our courage. At those times, it is important – I would even say crucial – to cherish the memory of the Lord’s presence in our lives and his merciful gaze, which inspired us to put our lives on the line for him and for his People. And to find the strength to persevere and, with the Psalmist, to raise our own song of praise, “for his mercy endures forever” (Ps 136).
Gratitude is always a powerful weapon. Only if we are able to contemplate and feel genuine gratitude for all those ways we have experienced God’s love, generosity, solidarity and trust, as well as his forgiveness, patience, forbearance and compassion, will we allow the Spirit to grant us the freshness that can renew (and not simply patch up) our life and mission. Like Peter on the morning of the miraculous draught of fishes, may we let the recognition of all the blessings we have received awaken in us the amazement and gratitude that can enable us to say: “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man” (Lk 5:8). Only then to hear the Lord repeat his summons: “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be fishers of men” (Lk 5:10). “For his mercy endures forever”.
Dear brother priests, I thank you for your fidelity to the commitments you have made. It is a sign that, in a society and culture that glorifies the ephemeral, there are still people unafraid to make lifelong promises. In effect, we show that we continue to believe in God, who has never broken his covenant, despite our having broken it countless times. In this way, we celebrate the fidelity of God, who continues to trust us, to believe in us and to count on us, for all our sins and failings, and who invites us to be faithful in turn. Realizing that we hold this treasure in earthen vessels (cf. 2 Cor 4:7), we know that the Lord triumphs through weakness (cf. 2 Cor12:9). He continues to sustain us and to renew his call, repaying us a hundredfold (cf. Mk 10:29-30). “For his mercy endures forever”.
Thank you for the joy with which you have offered your lives, revealing a heart that over the years has refused to become closed and bitter, but has grown daily in love for God and his people. A heart that, like good wine, has not turned sour but become richer with age. “For his mercy endures forever”.
Thank you for working to strengthen the bonds of fraternity and friendship with your brother priests and your bishop, providing one another with support and encouragement, caring for those who are ill, seeking out those who keep apart, visiting the elderly and drawing from their wisdom, sharing with one another and learning to laugh and cry together. How much we need this! But thank you too for your faithfulness and perseverance in undertaking difficult missions, or for those times when you have had to call a brother priest to order. “For his mercy endures forever”.
Thank you for your witness of persistence and patient endurance (hypomoné) in pastoral ministry. Often, with the parrhesía of the shepherd, we find ourselves arguing with the Lord in prayer, as Moses did in courageously interceding for the people (cf. Num 14:13-19; Ex 32:30-32; Dt 9:18-21). “For his mercy endures forever”.
Thank you for celebrating the Eucharist each day and for being merciful shepherds in the Sacrament of Reconciliation, neither rigorous nor lax, but deeply concerned for your people and accompanying them on their journey of conversion to the new life that the Lord bestows on us all. We know that on the ladder of mercy we can descend to the depths of our human condition – including weakness and sin – and at the same time experience the heights of divine perfection: “Be merciful as the Father is merciful”. In this way, we are “capable of warming people’s hearts, walking at their side in the dark, talking with them and even entering into their night and their darkness, without losing our way”. “For his mercy endures forever”.
Thank you for anointing and fervently proclaiming to all, “in season and out of season” (cf. 2 Tim 4:2) the Gospel of Jesus Christ, probing the heart of your community “in order to discover where its desire for God is alive and ardent, as well as where that dialogue, once loving, has been thwarted and is now barren”. “For his mercy endures forever”.
Thank you for the times when, with great emotion, you embraced sinners, healed wounds, warmed hearts and showed the tenderness and compassion of the Good Samaritan (cf. Lk 10:25-27). Nothing is more necessary than this: accessibility, closeness, readiness to draw near to the flesh of our suffering brothers and sisters. How powerful is the example of a priest who makes himself present and does not flee the wounds of his brothers and sisters! It mirrors the heart of a shepherd who has developed a spiritual taste for being one with his people, a pastor who never forgets that he has come from them and that by serving them he will find and express his most pure and complete identity. This in turn will lead to adopting a simple and austere way of life, rejecting privileges that have nothing to do with the Gospel. “For his mercy endures forever”.
Finally, let us give thanks for the holiness of the faithful People of God, whom we are called to shepherd and through whom the Lord also shepherds and cares for us. He blesses us with the gift of contemplating that faithful People “in those parents who raise their children with immense love, in those men and women who work hard to support their families, in the sick, in elderly religious who never lose their smile. In their daily perseverance, I see the holiness of the Church militant”. Let us be grateful for each of them, and in their witness find support and encouragement. “For his mercy endures forever”.
“I want [your] hearts to be encouraged” (Col 2:2)
My second great desire is, in the words of Saint Paul, to offer encouragement as we strive to renew our priestly spirit, which is above all the fruit of the working of the Holy Spirit in our lives. Faced with painful experiences, all of us need to be comforted and encouraged. The mission to which we are called does not exempt us from suffering, pain and even misunderstanding. Rather, it requires us to face them squarely and to accept them, so that the Lord can transform them and conform us more closely to himself. “Ultimately, the lack of a heartfelt and prayerful acknowledgment of our limitations prevents grace from working more effectively within us, for no room is left for bringing about the potential good that is part of a sincere and genuine journey of growth”.
One good way of testing our hearts as pastors is to ask how we confront suffering. We can often act like the levite or the priest in the parable, stepping aside and ignoring the injured man (cf. Lk 10:31-32). Or we can draw near in the wrong way, viewing situations in the abstract and taking refuge in commonplaces, such as: “That’s life…”, or “Nothing can be done”. In this way, we yield to an uneasy fatalism. Or else we can draw near with a kind of aloofness that brings only isolation and exclusion. “Like the prophet Jonah, we are constantly tempted to flee to a safe haven. It can have many names: individualism, spiritualism, living in a little world…” Far from making us compassionate, this ends up holding us back from confronting our own wounds, the wounds of others and consequently the wounds of Jesus himself.
Along these same lines, I would mention another subtle and dangerous attitude, which, as Bernanos liked to say, is “the most precious of the devil’s potions”. It is also the most harmful for those of us who would serve the Lord, for it breeds discouragement, desolation and despair. Disappointment with life, with the Church or with ourselves can tempt us to latch onto a sweet sorrow or sadness that the Eastern Fathers called acedia. Cardinal Tomáš Špidlík described it in these terms: “If we are assailed by sadness at life, at the company of others or at our own isolation, it is because we lack faith in God’s providence and his works… Sadness paralyzes our desire to persevere in our work and prayer; it makes us hard to live with… The monastic authors who treated this vice at length call it the worst enemy of the spiritual life.”
All of us are aware of a sadness that can turn into a habit and lead us slowly to accept evil and injustice by quietly telling us: “It has always been like this”. A sadness that stifles every effort at change and conversion by sowing resentment and hostility. “That is no way to live a dignified and fulfilled life; it is not God’s will for us, nor is it the life of the Spirit, which has its source in the heart of the risen Christ”, to which we have been called. Dear brothers, when that sweet sorrow threatens to take hold of our lives or our communities, without being fearful or troubled, yet with firm resolution, let us together beg the Spirit to “rouse us from our torpor, to free us from our inertia. Let us rethink our usual way of doing things; let us open our eyes and ears, and above all our hearts, so as not to be complacent about things as they are, but unsettled by the living and effective word of the risen Lord”.
Let me repeat: in times of difficulty, we all need God’s consolation and strength, as well as that of our brothers and sisters. All of us can benefit from the touching words that Saint Paul addressed to his communities: “I pray that you may not lose heart over [my] sufferings” (Eph 3:13), and “I want [your] hearts to be encouraged” (Col 2:22). In this way, we can carry out the mission that the Lord gives us anew each day: to proclaim “good news of great joy for all the people” (Lk 2:10). Not by presenting intellectual theories or moral axioms about the way things ought to be, but as men who in the midst of pain have been transformed and transfigured by the Lord and, like Job, can exclaim: “I knew you then only by hearsay, but now I have seen you with my own eyes” (Job 42:2). Without this foundational experience, all of our hard work will only lead to frustration and disappointment.
In our own lives, we seen how “with Christ, joy is constantly born anew”. Although there are different stages in this experience, we know that, despite our frailties and sins, “with a tenderness which never disappoints, but is always capable of restoring our joy, God makes it possible for us to lift up our heads and start anew”. That joy is not the fruit of our own thoughts or decisions, but of the confidence born of knowing the enduring truth of Jesus’ words to Peter. At times of uncertainty, remember those words: “I have prayed for you, that your faith may not fail” (Lk 22:32). The Lord is the first to pray and fight for you and for me. And he invites us to enter fully into his own prayer. There may well be moments when we too have to enter into “the prayer of Gethsemane, that most human and dramatic of Jesus’ prayers… For there we find supplication, sorrow, anguish and even bewilderment (Mk 14:33ff.)”.
We know that it is not easy to stand before the Lord and let his gaze examine our lives, heal our wounded hearts and cleanse our feet of the worldliness accumulated along the way, which now keeps us from moving forward. In prayer, we experience the blessed “insecurity” which reminds us that we are disciples in need of the Lord’s help, and which frees us from the promethean tendency of “those who ultimately trust only in their own powers and feel superior to others because they observe certain rules”.
Dear brothers, Jesus, more than anyone, is aware of our efforts and our accomplishments, our failures and our mistakes. He is the first to tell us: “Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (Mt 11:28-29).
In this prayer, we know that we are never alone. The prayer of a pastor embraces both the Spirit who cries out “Abba, Father!” (cf. Gal 4:6), and the people who have been entrusted to his care. Our mission and identity can be defined by this dialectic.
The prayer of a pastor is nourished and made incarnate in the heart of God’s People. It bears the marks of the sufferings and joys of his people, whom he silently presents to the Lord to be anointed by the gift of the Holy Spirit. This is the hope of a pastor, who with trust and insistence asks the Lord to care for our weakness as individuals and as a people. Yet we should also realize that it is in the prayer of God’s People that the heart of a pastor takes flesh and finds its proper place. This sets us free from looking for quick, easy, ready-made answers; it allows the Lord to be the one – not our own recipes and goals – to point out a path of hope. Let us not forget that at the most difficult times in the life of the earliest community, as we read in the Acts of the Apostles, prayer emerged as the true guiding force.
Brothers, let us indeed acknowledge our weaknesses, but also let Jesus transform them and send us forth anew to the mission. Let us never lose the joy of knowing that we are “the sheep of his flock” and that he is our Lord and Shepherd.
For our hearts to be encouraged, we should not neglect the dialectic that determines our identity. First, our relationship with Jesus. Whenever we turn away from Jesus or neglect our relationship with him, slowly but surely our commitment begins to fade and our lamps lose the oil needed to light up our lives (cf. Mt 25:1-13): “Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me… because apart from me you can do nothing” (Jn 15:4-5). In this regard, I would encourage you not to neglect spiritual direction. Look for a brother with whom you can speak, reflect, discuss and discern, sharing with complete trust and openness your journey. A wise brother with whom to share the experience of discipleship. Find him, meet with him and enjoy his guidance, accompaniment and counsel. This is an indispensable aid to carrying out your ministry in obedience to the will of the Father (cf. Heb 10:9) and letting your heart beat with “the mind that was in Christ Jesus” (Phil 2:5). We can profit from the words of Ecclesiastes: “Two are better than one… One will lift up the other; but woe to the one who is alone and falls, and does not have another to help!” (4:9-10).
The other essential aspect of this dialectic is our relationship to our people. Foster that relationship and expand it. Do not withdraw from your people, your presbyterates and your communities, much less seek refuge in closed and elitist groups. Ultimately, this stifles and poisons the soul. A minister whose “heart is encouraged” is a minister always on the move. In our “going forth”, we walk “sometimes in front, sometimes in the middle and sometimes behind: in front, in order to guide the community; in the middle, in order to encourage and support, and at the back in order to keep it united, so that no one lags too far behind… There is another reason too: because our people have a “nose” for things. They sniff out, discover, new paths to take; they have the sensus fidei (cf. Lumen Gentium, 12)… What could be more beautiful than this?” Jesus himself is the model of this evangelizing option that leads us to the heart of our people. How good it is for us to see him in his attention to every person! The sacrifice of Jesus on the cross is nothing else but the culmination of that evangelizing style that marked his entire life.
Dear brother priests, the pain of so many victims, the pain of the people of God and our own personal pain, cannot be for naught. Jesus himself has brought this heavy burden to his cross and he now asks us to be renewed in our mission of drawing near to those who suffer, of drawing near without embarrassment to human misery, and indeed to make all these experiences our own, as eucharist. Our age, marked by old and new wounds, requires us to be builders of relationships and communion, open, trusting and awaiting in hope the newness that the kingdom of God wishes to bring about even today. For it is a kingdom of forgiven sinners called to bear witness to the Lord’s ever-present compassion. “For his mercy endures forever”.
“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord” (Lk 1:46)
How can we speak about gratitude and encouragement without looking to Mary? She, the woman whose heart was pierced (cf. Lk 2:35), teaches us the praise capable of lifting our gaze to the future and restoring hope to the present. Her entire life was contained in her song of praise (cf. Lk 1:46-55). We too are called to sing that song as a promise of future fulfilment.
Whenever I visit a Marian shrine, I like to spend time looking at the Blessed Mother and letting her look at me. I pray for a childlike trust, the trust of the poor and simple who know that their mother is there, and that they have a place in her heart. And in looking at her, to hear once more, like the Indian Juan Diego: “My youngest son, what is the matter? Do not let it disturb your heart. Am I not here, I who have the honour to be your mother?”
To contemplate Mary is “to believe once again in the revolutionary nature of love and tenderness. In her, we see that humility and tenderness are not virtues of the weak but of the strong, who need not treat others poorly in order to feel important themselves”.
Perhaps at times our gaze can begin to harden, or we can feel that the seductive power of apathy or self-pity is about to take root in our heart. Or our sense of being a living and integral part of God’s People begins to weary us, and we feel tempted to a certain elitism. At those times, let us not be afraid to turn to Mary and to take up her song of praise.
Perhaps at times we can feel tempted to withdraw into ourselves and our own affairs, safe from the dusty paths of daily life. Or regrets, complaints, criticism and sarcasm gain the upper hand and make us lose our desire to keep fighting, hoping and loving. At those times, let us look to Mary so that she can free our gaze of all the “clutter” that prevents us from being attentive and alert, and thus capable of seeing and celebrating Christ alive in the midst of his people. And if we see that we are going astray, or that we are failing in our attempts at conversion, then let us turn to her like a great parish priest from my previous diocese, who was also a poet. He asked her, with something of a smile: “This evening, dear Lady /my promise is sincere; /but just to be sure, don’t forget / to leave the key outside the door”. Our Lady “is the friend who is ever concerned that wine not be lacking in our lives. She is the woman whose heart was pierced by a sword and who understands all our pain. As mother of all, she is a sign of hope for peoples suffering the birth pangs of justice… As a true mother, she walks at our side, she shares our struggles and she constantly surrounds us with God’s love”.
Dear brothers, once more, “I do not cease to give thanks for you” (Eph 1:16), for your commitment and your ministry. For I am confident that “God takes away even the hardest stones against which our hopes and expectations crash: death, sin, fear, worldliness. Human history does not end before a tombstone, because today it encounters the “living stone” (cf. 1 Pet 2:4), the risen Jesus. We, as Church, are built on him, and, even when we grow disheartened and tempted to judge everything in the light of our failures, he comes to make all things new”.
May we allow our gratitude to awaken praise and renewed enthusiasm for our ministry of anointing our brothers and sisters with hope. May we be men whose lives bear witness to the compassion and mercy that Jesus alone can bestow on us.
May the Lord Jesus bless you and the Holy Virgin watch over you. And please, I ask you not to forget to pray for me.
Rome, at Saint John Lateran, on 4 August 2019, Memorial of the Holy Curé of Ars
The Eucharist Thursday September 26th, 2019 at 6:30 pm Grace Lutheran Church 5454 Miller Trunk Highway Hermantown, MN 55811 Click Here To Register Please do not call the church to register or drop off payments. If paying by check: All payments must be mailed to: Theology Uncapped C/O Deacon John Foucault 145 Artavia Street Duluth, MN 55811
Please note that all payments must be received by September 23rd. Any unpaid registrations will be cancelled.
Father Richard Kunst & Pastor Peter Kolwitz, Hosts of the Event
If you stop by St. John’s parking lot on Tuesday evenings this summer you will see a large circle of lawn chairs occupied by adults relaxing and visiting with each other, while the gaga pit has twenty children playing and cheering each other on.
Tuesday family nights have become a new parish tradition this summer, with 50-60 people gathering for a potluck meal and time for fellowship. It has been a wonderful opportunity for families to stay connected or reconnect as busy summer schedules leave little time for slowing down.
Some families have known each other for years, while others are new to the parish. There are also many new families as many little ones crawl around.
Tuesday nights also give us a chance to get to know our pastor better as the men often gather around to grill Fr. Drew while he grills food for us!
Come join us as we enjoy the beautiful Duluth weather in these last few weeks of summer, and put a name with the faces you see at Mass! Everyone is welcome.
Feel free to contact Fr Drew or Emily & Isaac Patrick (218-724-1407) if you have any questions.
This article appeared in the June 2019 issue of the Northern Cross. It was written in response to several conversations with my own and other of our adult children. —-Mary Claire Sitek
And if, indeed, your hearts must break now, let them break Wide Open.
When You’re Finally Forced to Confront How the
Clergy Sex Abuse Scandal Has Affected Your Own Adult Children
In the wake of this terrible crisis presently affecting my Church, a new wound is opening up within my own family. It is forcing me to try to justify to my adult children why I remain in the Catholic Church while the sex abuse crisis looms larger now than a decade ago. I must have been oblivious to the fact they, too, were inhaling all this news and experiencing revulsion as a result in proportions I was unaware of.
As it encompasses more and more communities and countries the horror of it grows to an even greater degree than the numbers. (I realize even ONE case would be too much.) Dealing with my own personal abhorrence, however, pales in comparison to becoming aware of how it has affected my own (and perhaps all our) children as the news bombards us with its immensity. And the fact that the number of clergy crimes is relatively small compared to the general population’s level of abuse does nothing to alleviate the pain this crisis has inflicted upon all of us—none more so than practicing Catholics: cradle Catholics so to speak.
. How do you justify to your children—to our children— your decision to remain in the church as we struggle to live with such scandal, such crime, such diabolical evil? I was recently faced with this question and realized I have to address it, try to answer it as best I can. Let me start with the peripheral reasons why I stay, so I can end with the central one.
According to Matthew Kelly in his 2010, Rediscovering Catholicism, “There are 1.2 billion Catholics in the world, 67 million in America alone…And every single day the Catholic Church feeds, houses, and clothes more people, takes care of more sick people, visits more prisoners, and educates more people than any other institution on the face of the earth…..(before the Church) no one cared for the sick: the essence of health care emerged through the Church—through religious orders….Education for the common person also emerged through the Church—more than 230 colleges and universities are in the U.S. alone. To say nothing of the thousands of parishes that grew up around religious communities opening up Catholic elementary schools…”
I could go on, but you get my point. Let me come back to it.
It is impossible to express my grief that every one of us experiences because of being touched by this horror, particularly victims of these crimes. If any of you are reading this, know how sorry I am for your pain. I pray your wounds heal and are heard—and in some ways you are compensated. I hope you know my sorrow for you and helplessness to alleviate your pain break my heart—Wide Open. We can only stand with you in your suffering. We can only give you our support as you are brave enough to come forward.
For those of us who have only known faithful and holy priests, you are the other side of the coin, with a shadow hovering over you, a suspicion you never deserved. I recall a priest telling me an encounter he experienced while at lunch with his family after his ordination. Dressed in his clerical attire, a group of guys in the restaurant taunted him as, “one of those pedophiles:” this occurrence on the happiest day of his life. The ache in my heart over all of this can be measured by how this affects you, and how I now realize it has affected my own (and all our adult) children.
When one of my own, (not abused) adult children confronted me with the HOW I can remain a faithful Catholic despite this I realized all along they’ve all expressed this judgement. The pain of this confrontation brings on a new stage of pain. Why DO I stay? What constitutes my love for my church, a love that seems to grow the more muddled and messy this all becomes.
I would say discovering the statistics available in Kelly’s book, cited previously, humbled me beyond anything I’ve ever seen concretely regarding our Church. They made me realize, beyond my personal gripes over some of our behaviors in our 2000 year history, just what and who we really are. These stats truly are our behavior. They make me proud to have been a part of this history of alleviating so much suffering in our world.
Why DO I stay? Ultimately it all goes back to family. God made us a family, and when we least deserve to be loved, there is a mother’s heart that cradles us with comfort and forgiveness. The Church is our Mother and this is her heart— to gather us together in joy and sorrow and most especially the nourishment of Eucharist. And if you’re not someone who perceives the reality of the Real Presence of God in the Eucharist I cannot help you! But I can tell you that worse than the evil inherent in this crisis is the possibility I’d have to deal with it without the daily reception of our God.
The fact that the Church is our Mother makes the reality of this pain even greater: mothers lay down their lives for their children. Mothers are “she-bears” if you hurt one of their own. Mothers nurture and protect! How could this have happened within this framework of, “Mother Church?”
If, indeed, our hearts are breaking now, let them break, wide open!
To those of you who are wandering in the darkness of this time, these thoughts may not comfort or console you or salve the wound my refusal to leave my church has become for you. It’s difficult to apologize for doing the best I can in the circumstances in which I’ve found myself: loving my/our children, for they are all our children, and loving my church.
St. John Paul II is one of the great saints of our time! What would it be like to follow in his footsteps? Fr. Richard Kunst will take you on a tour of this holy man’s life and share how you can walk where this saint has walked!
We all know of Father Rich’s love and devotion to Pope St. John Paul II from his time as our pastor. A testament to that love is the beautiful statue of the saint that adorns St. John’s church.
Today, on Real Presence Radio, while being interviewed about this pilgrimage, he issued a special invitation to join him to his former parishioners of St. John’s & St. Joe’s.
If you are interested, you can contact him through the information on the brochure featured above. This is an incredible opportunity, so don’t wait too long to take advantage of it!
The “Seven Church Pilgrimage,” is a 15-mile route to the four great basilicas of Rome. These are St. Peter’s Basilica, St. John Lateran, St. Paul Outside the Walls and St. Mary Major. It also stops at three other churches Holy Cross, St. Lawrence and St. Sebastian. These are the seven most important churches in the Eternal City.
Fr. Simone Raponi, from the Oratory of St. Philip Neri, says St. Philip Neri began promoting this pilgrimage as an alternative to carnival parties.
FR. SIMONE RAPONI C.O. Oratory of St. Philip Neri “St. Philip Neri brought this pilgrimage back to the scene during the mid-16th century. Soon after, it became famous. He reinstated its penitential nature, its devotion to the Holy Spirit, and encouraged the importance of the sacrament of reconciliation. Moreover, St. Philip Neri knew how to present it with a touch of joy and humor, transforming this religious excursion into a ‘festive journey of pilgrimage.’”
This map shows the route traced by St. Philip, who started it himself. Each year, more pilgrims joined, reaching 6,000 participants during Pius IV’s pontificate.
FR. SIMONE RAPONI C.O. Oratory of St. Philip Neri “People from all classes and walks of life: the rich, the poor, cardinals and princes all participated in the seven church pilgrimage.”
Since 1575, those who do the “Seven Church Pilgrimage” can gain a plenary indulgence under the necessary conditions. Fr. Simone and other priests of the Oratory of St. Philip Neri organize a nocturnal pilgrimage every year around May 26, the saint’s feast day.
FR. SIMONE Oratory of St. Philip Neri “The Oratory priests accompany the pilgrims during this visit to the seven churches. We are in charge of catechesis, formation and meditations on the Christian virtues and life.”
The pilgrimage takes place at night to avoid the hustle and bustle of Rome during the day. The aim of this nocturnal pilgrimage is to provide a more powerful and solemn atmosphere. This year around 850 people attended this event.