I try to make it to weekday mass before work. One day recently, father spoke of self-possession. “We must fully possess ourselves to fully give ourselves.” For me, these words could not ring more true.
My service year thus far has been one of immense growth, complete with intense growing pains (I went from 5’4” to nearly 5’9” in middle school and I remember complaining to my father how much my knees and legs were hurting). Until mass that day, I didn’t connect that I’ve been learning, trial-by-fire, the important relationship between self-possession and self-gift. With my job as case manager at a residential high school for emotionally disturbed teenage boys, I can’t afford to live a life of extremes. I know what it’s like to go to work with little sleep (awful), I know what it’s like to go to work unprepared (stressful) and I know what it’s like to go to work in a bad mood (disastrous). This year is a crash-course in how to be an adult – I cannot get away with the disorganization that characterized my life for three-and-a-half of my four years of college. Then, I lived only for myself. Now, I have a duty to my community and to my students. I live for nineteen wild teenage boys, and whether or not they see or appreciate it, I need to be at my best every minute that I am at work. Self-possession, or self-discipline, is an important skill I am trying to acquire for the sake of myself and those I serve. Social service is a field that demands one to continually give of oneself. You give your time and attention to students with issues like, “I have a toothache and my mom’s insurance card isn’t working, can you make me an appointment?” to “I feel abandoned by my family and don’t want to be in this place” to irate calls from parents, to surprise visits from state agencies.. One is constantly giving time and attention to all types of people and situations. Self-discipline may have too much of an ascetic, medieval tone to it, but it is so very important for good work. I need to sleep. I need to smile and listen to others even when I don’t feel like smiling or listening. I need to do my paperwork in a timely manner. I need to read my work email instead of browsing the internet. I need to make sure I have time with friends so that I can be in a place of peace and happiness for my work. I need to model how to live a good life, so that when I give my students a hard time for playing 18 hours of video games over the weekend or for not communicating respectfully with their parents, I am not picking out their splinter in their eyes while the plank is in my own. We learn more from what people do than what they say. Our world is inundated with words, most of them pretty useless. Actions are more powerful, and someone who does what he or she preaches is the kind of person I might stop and listen to. Our faith has the most beautiful image of love: Jesus on the cross. That example of pure love, of most unselfish self-gift, moves me to action more profoundly than any words of a thoughtful hallmark card, any viewing of the Notebook, any poem of Elizabeth Barrett Browning (and I enjoy EBB!). Love in our faith is a dying to oneself for the sake of others and God. If I fully possess myself, I have grown in my ability to die constantly to myself. And if I have created that habit within, then I can more freely love and give to those around me. By Jen Coe, Lasallian Volunteer 12-13 Place of Service: Martin De Porres, Queens, NY This post was originally written and posted on the Catholic Volunteer Network Blog. For more Catholic Volunteer Blog Posts please visit the CVN Blog Page. The Catholic Apostolate Center is proud to partner with the Catholic Volunteer Network by developing faith formation resources for volunteers and alumni, assisting in its efforts to provide and advocate for faith-based volunteerism and collaborate in many additional ways.
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There’s a line from Coldplay’s “The Scientist” that pops in my head from time to time. Nothing seems to prompt it. The line just comes: “Questions of science, science and progress, do not speak as loud as my heart.”
As I sit with the words now, I notice why they speak to me. A lover of math and physics, questions of science have engaged me from the very beginning. At first it was dinosaurs, fossils, rocks, mountains, stars, planets – big, physical, earthy things. As I grew and learned through the complicated processes of science, the whole world became an infinitely complicated, continuously unfolding window into God’s creative mind. From the quantum entanglement of paired photon particles to the unimaginably long process of creation through evolution that could selectively form the creatures of this mysterious and complicated world, I stand in complete, utter fascination. Yet, as captivated as I am by science, its questions are not enough. For me, asking the probing questions of science isn’t about head knowledge, it’s about heart knowledge. The created world and all its mysteries, when uncovered and understood, stir in me deeper mysteries, mysteries of a different category and question. At some point I moved beyond asking what and how to asking why and what does it mean. As we celebrated Pentecost, the receiving of the Holy Spirit, I was reminded that the gifts we have been given are of both head knowledge and heart knowledge. Wisdom, understanding, knowledge, counsel, strength, piety, and fear of the Lord – these challenge and equip us to probe deeper, scientifically and metaphysically, into the mystery of being. Of all the gifts, fear of the Lord might sound the most antiquated, but it may also be the most relevant for today’s ongoing conversation with secularism. Understood as “wonder and awe”, rather than fear, this gift certainly explains my shift in focus from science to faith. And, I’m certain, explains the drive of so much scientific research today. Wonder is the starting point for two difficult conversations – one between science and fundamentalism and the second between faith and active secularism. Both the agnostic physicist and the pious mystic share the gift of a profound wonder and awe at the created world, whether or not they both believe the world had a creator. As we celebrate the gift of Pentecost, and as we give thanks for the Holy Spirit’s continued work, let us take time to wonder with someone about the intricacies of creation – whether it be through the eyes of science or the eyes of faith – and let us hope that this gift of wonder can begin a creative conversation of a different sort. Mark Bartholet is the Pastoral Associate for Faith Formation at St. Peter Catholic Church in Charlotte, NC. Ever consider yourself an apostle? Last year, the 42 year-old Andrew Lloyd Webber musical, Jesus Christ Superstar, returned to Broadway for another run. The Apostles reflectively sing during the Last Supper, “Always hoped that I'd be an apostle, knew that I would make it if I tried,” as if they really knew what they were getting into when they agreed to Jesus saying “Follow me!” Of course, they didn’t. It would be like you saying, “Always hoped I’d be a volunteer, knew that I would make it if I tried.”
At some point someone, even if that Someone was speaking within, invited you to consider doing volunteer service and now you are doing it. Did you know exactly what you were getting into when you applied? Like the Apostles, probably not. You hoped to serve and give of yourself. Now after some time of service, you have much more of an idea of what you are doing and what it means to give of yourself in service. Even if your time of service is not coming to an end right now, you might be asking a couple of questions: “What am I going to do next?” “What am I going to do with my life?” No need to panic over them. Spending time reflecting on these questions is important, but sometimes that reflection can move in the direction of narcissism.Obviously, service is focused on others rather than ourselves. An outward-focus, while inwardly deciding, can offer a possible way forward. A bit of wisdom from Pope Francis from this past Easter Sunday speaks to this needed balance: “Let us be renewed by God’s mercy, let us be loved by Jesus, let us enable the power of his love to transform our lives too; and let us become agents of this mercy, channels through which God can water the earth, protect all creation and make justice and peace flourish.” Notice that we are in the middle, not as passive participants, but actively living the mercy and love of Jesus Christ toward a world in need of care, to people in need of service. We are sent by him. We are apostles. Ever think of yourself as an apostle? We are. Each one of the baptized is an apostle of faith and charity to a world in need of the mercy and love of Jesus Christ. We share in his mission. This is our primary vocation (from Latin vocare – “to call”) in life. We have a vocation to be an apostle. Don’t believe me? I’m not the one who said it, Blessed John Paul II did. He was talking to my religious family, the Union of Catholic Apostolate, but his point was meant for all: “Continue to multiply your efforts so that what was prophetically announced by Vincent Pallotti, and the Second Vatican Council authoritatively confirmed, may become a happy reality, that all Christians are authentic apostles of Christ in the Church and in the world” (Homily of June 22, 1986). Blessed John Paul II was simply expanding on what was said during the Second Vatican Council in a document that he helped to write, the Decree on the Apostolate of the Laity. But, what does it mean to be an “authentic apostle of Christ in the Church and in the world?” It means living as one who is sent, and not simply living for ourselves or being only a follower. We are sharers in the mission of Christ in his priestly, prophetic, and royal offices (Catechism of the Catholic Church, n. 783-786). We are “consecrated” through baptism (priestly) to “witness in the midst of the world” (prophetic), in service, especially to “the poor and the suffering” (royal). Nothing passive here! Our vocation as apostles of Jesus Christ is an active one that moves us outward beyond ourselves to a world in need of his presence through us. Our vocation as baptized is our primary vocation. All of the other vocations as married, single, consecrated, or priest are all secondary to this primary vocation as follower of (disciple) and sent by (apostle) Jesus Christ. Each is a way one can live out the primary vocation. How does one decide? Through a process of discernment, one is called to be informed, pray, make a choice, and take action. I make it seem easy. The process is not an easy one, but necessary in order to make a truly informed choice about how to live our vocation as an apostle. You might not be ready to make a choice about what way to live this vocation for life, but living it out as an apostle is what you are already doing in your volunteer service and probably did long before now. Maybe the Apostles in Jesus Christ Superstar were not so far off then, we do want to be apostles; we only need to try. Fr. Frank Donio, S.A.C. is Director of the Catholic Apostolate Center. This piece was written for the Catholic Apostolate Center partner Catholic Volunteer Network, "Shared Visions" Newsletter. Being a “cradle Catholic” I never questioned why we had 4 different statues of Mary in our kitchen or why every May we put a crown of flowers on our “Garden Mary” outside. It was common to hear the advice of praying to the rosary if you couldn’t sleep and thus one would be able to find countless glow-in-the-dark rosary beads tucked into my bed. Almost every woman in my family had Marie as their middle name and like myself, if it wasn’t a middle name it was taken as a confirmation name. It wasn’t until college, living under the shadow of “Mary’s House”, the Basilica of the Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in Washington DC, that I began to understand that it was through Mary that I would come to know her Son.
St. Vincent Pallotti understood this and had a deep connection with Our Lady and entrusted himself to her. He wrote “I resolve, my God, from all eternity and for all eternity . . . to love, honor and glorify my beloved Mother Mary; and to behold her loved, honored and glorified to the same degree that You, O Eternal Father, have showered her as Your Daughter, that You, O Divine Lord, have esteemed her as Your Mother, and that You, O Holy Spirit, have accorded her as Your most pure spouse.” (Soul of a Saint, p. 82) His devotion went beyond the pious practice of the time and enlightened a burning love within him. He spoke of Our Lady as, “Mother of Divine Love” and “Queen of Apostles.” It is said that he spoke, “I shall not rest until I, if this is possible, have achieved an infinitely tender love for my much beloved and much loving mother, Mary.” St. Vincent, in his deep love for Mary and a desire to be humble, work a silver reliquary box around his wrist with the image of the Mother of Divine Love painted on ivory mounted on it. He did this so that when people came to kiss his hand, a practice of that time, instead of kissing how own hand they would instead kiss the image of Our Lady. During this Month dedicated to Mary, let us look to St. Vincent as an example of how a love for our blessed mother can help us in reviving faith, enkindling charity and become an apostle of Christ. Pam Tremblay is the Blog Editor for the Catholic Apostolate Center. There are many places in life where we find joy. Often times, I find joy in my family – going home for holidays and being with the people that I love the most. I find joy in my friends – a second family that arguably knows me best. I find joy in my work – encouraging others to support an institution that means so much to not only me, but also to the Church in the United States.
When I think of my Catholic faith, I can only think of joy. This was especially evident during the recent election of a new Pope when I saw the entire world rest its eyes on our Church. It gave me great joy to answer people’s questions about my faith, help them to learn more about what it means to be Catholic, and strengthen my own faith. Joy in our faith can be found in a variety of different contexts. The one place where I find the most obvious joy, however, is within the hymns and songs of praise that are sung so beautifully in churches throughout the world. Over this past Triduum and Easter Sunday I heard magnificent music that brought people to tears.. One thing which astounds me every time I attend Mass is that it doesn’t matter if you can sing or not – liturgical music is meant to be sung by anyone. The entire congregation is meant to join in and sing their praise to God. You can see visually the people around you either belting their notes or perhaps listening intently to those around them. Whichever way one chooses to participate, there is no doubt that you can find Joy within the music both sung and played. One of the things I like to do immediately upon entering a pew is to figure out what hymns are going to be sung as the processional and recessional. If I don’t know the hymns, I try to hum the notes to myself in an effort to learn before the music starts. When the organist starts playing, I am transported – if only for a few brief moments – to a place of Joy. The people singing around me are all focused on one thing: praising God, saying thank you for giving us this day, and joining together to start off their week on the right foot. As I was writing this post, I stopped to go to Mass in downtown Washington, DC. Again, the music chosen immediately brought me into the moment. Each liturgical season brings with it an amazing group of hymns. Everyone I’ve spoken to have their favorites, especially at Christmastime. As for me, I’m a sucker for Easter hymns. Whatever the case may be, liturgical music has a way of bringing us closer to God in so many ways. Next time you’re at Mass, take it in – notice that everyone around you is all focused on the same thing: praising God and thanking him for giving us this day. What’s my favorite hymn? Too many to choose from, but I’ll leave you with this beautiful piece of music that I think anyone can appreciate – especially when you least expect it. Chris Pierno is the Associate for Media and Marketing for the Catholic Apostolate Center. ![]() Pope Gelasius (d. AD 496) said of St. George that he is one of the saints "whose names are rightly reverenced among us, but whose actions are known only to God." Little can be verified about the life of St. George. He is remembered as a martyr for the faith, and claimed as a patron by thirteen European countries. His intercession is sought constantly on behalf of soldiers and farm workers (and those suffering from the plague, though luckily with less frequency as of late). St. George is best remembered for his defeating a dragon to rescue the fair maiden (which naturally makes him a favorite of this fairy-tale loving girl). The beast attacked a quiet little kingdom, and his hunger demanded hefty payment, leading up to the necessary sacrifice of the king’s own daughter. Just as the dragon is about to devour the princess, St. George rides by, conveniently enough, and after making the sign of the cross and proclaiming the name of Jesus, he defeats the dragon. In thanks, the entire kingdom is baptized. The end. [1] But clearly it's not the end, because this myth has been a favorite for 1500 years. So what can a 3rd century saint, whose life and deeds are wrapped in myth and legend, tell us about being a Christian in the 21st century? Like in so many other tales and stories, the facts are less important than the message they bring. In this case, we learn that dragons are indeed real. Sometimes they are obvious and obtrusive, demanding immediate attention, like road rage or constantly breaking into conversations with “Well, in my opinion.” Often, however, they emerge in the form of redundancy, mediocrity, boredom, or the benign. What do we do about these sneaky, shadow dragons which creep into our lives in the form of a snooze button or accidental rude comments? These dragons grow slowly in the secret and dark where nobody can see them and think poorly of me. This tale also reminds us that courage takes many forms. Often, courage is speaking out in defense of the faith in the face of blatant injustice, as is still seen in too many places in the world. For my life today, courage takes the form of remaining steadfast in seemingly benign moments, like laundry and emails. My challenge is to remain dutiful and prayerful while I wait. For this twenty-something, courage is taking the waiting as seriously as what I am waiting for. I wait to finish my Masters; wait until I get married; wait to move closer to my family; wait for a job. Lately I have been praying for a heart like Mary's, courageous in all matters, great and small. She allowed God to break into her quiet life, and then she waited for her Son to be born, waited to find him in the Temple, waited for the Resurrection. As the psalmist says, “Wait for the Lord, take courage; be stouthearted, wait for the Lord” (Ps. 27:14). I recently stumbled upon an icon of St. George which I bought for my fiancé. It is currently hanging in his bedroom, and in less than four months will hang in ours. I love to see it when I visit, because George’s story is one I can relate to. For, as G.K. Chesterton once wrote: “Fairy tales are not important because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.” St. George, pray for us that we may develop courageous hearts to maintain our faithfulness to Christ in small moments and defeat the less obvious dragons in our lives. Abigail Craycraft is an apprentice with the Echo Program through the University of Notre Dame where she is currently serving at Bl. Teresa of Calcutta Parish in Collingswood, NJ.
St. Joseph is known as the Shadow of the Eternal Father, the Perpetual Adorer, the Patron of the Universal Church, the Patron of the Suffering and Dying, the True Foster Father of Jesus Christ, and Most Chaste Spouse of the Ever-Virgin Mary. He shows how a person must rely on the Father’s providence, trust the boldness of the Holy Spirit, and cherish the Incarnate Jesus, all while staying close to the Virgin Mary. St. Joseph is a model of faith and in a unique way he upholds the dignity of all vocations.
Joseph survives and thrives as a person of faith by abandoning his life and family completely to God. The Devil, Herod, and everyday difficulties, like not being able to find a place for his wife to give birth, threaten Joseph’s most precise gifts. A faithful person humbly resigns what they care about most to the Giver of All Gifts only to receive back what is best blessed and renewed. Joseph protects his family through surrendering them to God. How wonderful St. Joseph’s prayers must have been. The way he took his fears and insecurities to God to receive true strength must have been so beautiful. There are many ways that we know that St. Joseph’s faith was profound. The Virgin Mary knows for sure that she has never been with a man, but Joseph does not. St. Joseph trusted in the words of an angel in a dream. The angel said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit” (Mt. 1:20). Catholic theology of the Trinity had not been developed yet leaving Joseph not knowing with any sort of clarity who this “Holy Spirit” was that had impregnated his fiancée. St. Joseph demonstrates that his faith is not the kind that limits God by being attached to personal plans and expectations, but is one that allows God to act boldly. His faith is fulfilled by being lived out; he did take Mary as his bride, he did raise Jesus as his son, he did go wherever the Lord commanded him. Joseph fled to Egypt when Jesus’ life was being threatened and he returned home when he was told, doing everything in accordance with God’s will and timing. The obedient Joseph, as the Perpetual Adorer of the Christ-child can also help us grow in intimacy with Christ. Have we ever realized that the baby Jesus was most likely birthed into the callused hands of his carpenter foster-father? St. Joseph knew Jesus in a radically unique and intimate way. Joseph was able to adore the Eucharist while it was still breathing. We can relate to Joseph in the struggles that he faced and the fact that he was not spared from original sin. He was broken, flawed, sinful, fearful, and even being tempted. Joseph, as most chaste spouse, did not reduce Mary to an object of pleasure but he honored her as a whole person. We can imagine that Joseph embraced his call to chastity not begrudgingly but with great joy. Their intimacy honors the glory of creation by neither of them trying to dominate or manipulate the other for personal gain. How immaculate their interactions must have been! St. Joseph and Mary model for us a pure intimacy rooted in trust, commitment, and the will of God. With these considerations in mind we see St. Joseph as an inspiration for all people because he was called to marriage, parenthood, and celibacy. Whether we are called to marriage, religious life, priesthood, or the single-life we should entrust ourselves to St. Joseph and know that he understands the burdens that we carry. As a good father he will teach us to trust God completely and to allow the Holy Spirit to move in dramatic and unexpected ways. With Joseph as a model of faith we will honor the dignity of all people, love Mary, and intimately adore the Incarnate Christ. Daniel Hoover works at St. Mary’s Parish in the Diocese of Wilminigton, DE as a Lay Ecclesial Minister. The Catholic Apostolate Center would like to invite you to join in prayer and thanksgiving for our Holy Father, Pope Benedict the XVI, who will officially resign from his Petrine ministry this day. During his last Angelus blessing this past Sunday, Pope Benedict wrote:
During Lent, let us learn to give the right time to prayer, both personal and community prayer, which breathes air into our spiritual life. However, praying does not mean isolating oneself from the world and its contradictions, as St. Peter would have liked to have done on Mount Tabor, but prayer leads us back to the path, to action. Christian existence -- I have written in the Message for this Lent -- means to continuously climb up the mount for our encounter with God, so that afterward we can descend again filled with his love and strength to serve our brothers and sisters with the very love of God. Dear Brothers and sisters, this Word of God I feel in a particular way towards me, at this moment in my life. The Lord is calling me to "climb the mount," and to devote myself to meditation, reflection and prayer. However, this does not mean abandoning the Church, but rather, if God has requested this of me, it is so that I can continue to serve the Church with the same dedication and the same love with which I have done up until now, but in a way adapted to my age and my strength. Let us invoke Virgin Mary's intercession: Let her guide all of you to follow the Lord Jesus always, in prayer as well as in laborious charity. Let us follow in the example of Pope Benedict and root ourselves in prayer so that we might allow the spirit of humility and discernment to guide all our actions. Let us open our hearts to hear God’s promptings to use our gifts, talents, and abilities to best serve his Church. As has been emphasized before, the Catholic Apostolate Center is grateful for Pope Benedict XVI’s continual emphasis on the intrinsic connection between faith and charity, similar to St. Vincent Pallotti, founder of the Union of Catholic Apostolate and patron saint of the Catholic Apostolate Center. Pope Benedict’s humility in deciding to take this action is a great example for all of us seeking to be true servants of Jesus Christ. The Holy Father has been a gift to the Church, and the effects of his Petrine ministry will surely be felt for years to come. May Mary, Queen of Apostles, continue to guide Pope Benedict XVI, and may the Holy Spirit be with the College of Cardinals as they gather to elect his successor. With the liturgical season of Lent – one of the holiest and most sacred times for our Church – now upon us, - many Catholic minds are churning in anticipation. While we prepare ourselves with the due reverence for Lent, we are equally busy devising just exactly what we shall sacrifice and how shall we keep it. While this great fast is meant to ignite a vision of our Christ, unyielding in temperance through the desert in the face of Satan’s temptations, our holy fast often is diminished to a game of “what is the best fasting practices to talk about with others?” or “I’ll kick start my diet by giving up sweets for Lent.” Suddenly our religious devotional practice becomes much less about Christ, much more about ourselves.
This is not to say our mismanaged practices are meant to only serve ourselves. It is also not meant to say that our “sacrifices” are not challenges. Nor is this meant to discourage anyone from giving up sweets. This is to say that there is a chasm in many of our modern, personal interpretations of our Catholic practice. Often, we attempt to fulfill the tradition without prayer or holy intentions and we boastfully bemoan our devotion with ironic agony to our friends and family “I won’t even have sweets on Sunday, not a bite!” This, I believe, is not what is meant for our journey through Lent with Christ. This journey is a glorious opportunity for devotion and recommitment to prayer, abstinence, and almsgiving. We may share our devotions with others, but we should seek to share as a means of support and reflection without pride or seeking attention. So, I propose a new kind of devotional practice. Instead of banishing the tasty treats from your pantry or giving up your favorite television show, let’s take one step closer to our Community of Faith in our Lenten sacrifice. These practices help us to grow closer to Christ. This year, why not try this through a prayer-filled recognition of the struggles that our brothers and sisters here on Earth face each day? Practicing sacrifice with added prayerful reflection and a commitment to our community is much more doable than one might think! This Lent, park in the back of the grocery lot; as you walk towards the door, say a prayer for older adults who may be challenged to walk such a short distance Or, if you like to give up sweets, do so in celebration for the abundance of what you have been blessed with! The money that is not spent on sweets may be used to purchase non-perishables to donate to a local Saint Vincent de Paul societies. The idea is that while we make sacrifices this Lent, we do so in the spirit of Christ and in support of our community! When we sacrifice of ourselves so that others may be blessed in the wake of our actions, we grow closer to Christ. As we sacrifice with a humble and gracious heart, prayer becomes a natural step towards not only a stronger relationship with Christ, but so too, with fellow members of our community. Brothers and sisters, let us prepare ourselves for the celebration of the Easter season by using the sacrificial Lenten season as a means to strengthen the bonds between Christ and community. Samantha Alves is working toward a M.S.W. at Boston College and currently works for the Massachusetts Coalition for the Homeless. My love of you, God, is not some vague feeling; It is positive and certain. Your word struck into my heart, And from that moment I loved you. Besides this, all about me, Heaven and earth and all that they contain Proclaim that I should love you. But what do I love when I love you? Not material beauty of a temporal order; Not the brilliance of earthly light; Not the sweet melody of harmony and song; Not the fragrance of flowers, perfumes, and spices; Not manna or honey; And not limbs the body delights to embrace. It is not these that I love when I love my God. And yet, when I love him, It is true that I love a light of a certain kind, A voice, a perfume, a food, an embrace; But they are the kind that I love in my inner self, When my soul is bathed in light that is not bound by space; When it listens to sound that never dies away; When it breathes fragrance that is not borne away on the wind; When it tastes food that is never consumed by the eating; When it clings to an embrace from which It is not severed by fulfillment of desire. This is what I love when I love my God. ~St. Augustine’s Canticle of Love; Confessions 10, 6-8. Happy Valentines Day from all of us at the Catholic Apostolate Center! May the LOVE of God and the LOVE of our Faith continue to grow in each of us!
Once, I was a college “mentor-in-faith” for the Notre Dame Vision program, leading small groups for a series of weeklong vocational conferences for high school students. During these conferences, I presented a risky talk[1]. It was risky because I knew there was a possibility of stigma and verbal abuse associated with owning some of my actions. In fact, there was a near certainty of it. However, there was also a real possibility that one or more high school students who had been struggling with sin or guilt could find some real relief, insight, or conversion. When the idea to write this talk first came to me, I found myself unable to brush it aside. Yet I struggled. I went back and forth. Eventually, however, it became apparent to me that there was nothing else to do but to offer this story. So I wrote...
My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my savior. For he has looked upon his handmaid’s lowliness. I closed my talk with these first lines of the Magnificat, as I could understand a little of what Mary was expressing. I was amazed that my soul could proclaim any of the greatness of the Lord to others. My soul? Even in my smallness and brokenness? Yes. Even that brokenness had been turned around to glorify the Lord. Now, compare that simple story to our Mother’s. While Mary had no brokenness, she too had a smallness; an anonymity; even, arguably, a degree of worthlessness to her society. By deciding upon the motherhood of Christ, she accepted the near certainty of stigma, ostracism, even death. Yet through that decision, anonymous young Mary was able to glorify the Lord in an unprecedented way - she is the model of everything the Church can be. She is the model of conforming to God’s will. She is the model of trust in the Lord. She is the model of allowing the Lord to proclaim His greatness through her. In the Magnificat, Mary’s amazement that this could be the outcome is evident (even before she knew it would be). The greatest result was, of course, the Incarnation, and thereby human salvation. I am grateful that she thought the work of God worth the personal risk, both at her first fiat to Gabriel, and at every subsequent time her heart stood in danger of being pierced. I presented a risky talk... once. However, Mary shows us that we are called to take risks for the sake of the Gospel witness more than once in our lives, and without my deliberation born of hesitation. I ask your prayers that both you and I may be given the strength and the spirit to follow Mary’s model, to keep taking the actions that carry with them both personal risk and the corporate reward of building God’s Kingdom. Laura Berlage serves as an Echo Faith Formation Apprentice in the Diocese of Camden, NJ [1] Note: I don’t share that talk’s content here because it involves more than my own story, and the other persons involved have not authorized me to make their story the kind of public that lives online indefinitely. “With a happy and cheerful face, we can prove that the imitation of Christ fills our lives with joy.”
– St. Vincent Pallotti We live in a celebratory society. We celebrate the birth of a child, the graduation of a student, and the birthday of a friend. In my family, there is always an excuse for a party. This past year, in particular, offered many opportunities for celebrations: the birth of my niece, my Grandma’s 85th birthday, my sister-in-law’s new job, the wedding of two different cousins this past fall, and my own wedding last summer. As a society and in our families, we have parties for holidays, sporting events, and sometimes for no particular reason at all. Why not take those every day celebrations and lead them into a celebration of the life of our faith? Why not live our faith life with joy? Our Catholic faith is one of celebration; we are an Easter people, a joyful people! In his letter to the Philippians, Paul tells the disciples: “Rejoice in the Lord always; again, I will say, rejoice.” (Philippians 4:4). We are urged in our faith to rejoice and celebrate all we have been given from God. In his book Between Heaven and Mirth: Why Joy, Humor and Laughter Are at the Heart of the Spiritual Life, Rev. James Martin, SJ tells a story of meeting the Superior-General of the Jesuits, Peter-Hans Kolvenbach, during his formation. When Martin asks Kolvenbach what the best ways are to increase vocations, the Superior-General replies, “Live your own vocation joyfully.” Martin goes on to say, “Joy attracts people to God. Why would anyone want to join a group of miserable people?” (88). If we are living out our faith joyfully, others will take notice. We can even look to the saints as examples of how to live our lives joyfully. St. Therese of Lisieux lived her vocation joyfully as a Carmelite nun, doing little acts for those around her; living out her faith in a simple way. St. Francis of Assisi felt that his life was a gift of love and spent his life in thanksgiving for that gift. No matter what our vocation in life is and no matter what we are facing, we need to remember we are an Easter people and strive to live life with joy. This doesn’t mean that we have to be happy all the time or that there won’t be periods of darkness or indifference. It means that we need to cherish what we have been given, aim to serve others, and celebrate our faith in God. “Rejoice in the Lord always; again, I will say, rejoice.” Monica Thom Konschnik serves as the Administrator for the Catholic Apostolate Center and the Pallottine Seminary at Green Hill. Jubilee Message from His Eminence Tarcisio Cardinal Bertone on behalf of His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI
At the conclusion of the celebrations (of the aforesaid Religious Community) marking the 50th anniversary of the canonization of St. Vincent Pallotti, the Supreme Pontiff, Benedict XVI, happily joins (you) in thanking and praising God for the numerous spiritual benefits granted in this jubilee year and all through the nearly two centuries of faithful service by the Pallottines. During the past year every spiritual child of Pallotti has been able to draw invaluable lessons from the person and the work of the Founder and from the richness of his Charism inspired in him by the Holy Spirit and the precious teachings still relevant in the Church. St. Vincent recognized that the faith of his time was lukewarm; he committed himself to reviving it so that every believer might witness to the living God. His foundation – the Union of Catholic Apostolate – aimed at enlivening the faith and leading all to Jesus Christ. To that end the Saint also promoted several other concrete initiatives in order to enhance reverence for the ancient institution of the Church, and to animate and propagate sound doctrine. He also sought to multiply spiritual and corporal works of mercy urged on by the precept of charity, because God being love itself there is nothing more effective than works of charity to give a new impetus to the faith. Pallotti also strove to safe-guard the dignity of sacred buildings, propagate a simple explanation of the Gospel and proposed spiritual exercises for people of all walks of life. In short, he encouraged any work which, according to the time and circumstances, would prove opportune for the revival of faith. Our own times too manifests signs of a profound crisis as is evident in the words of Pope Benedict XVI: “the true problem of our moment of history is that God continues to disappear from the life of man, and shutting out the light of God man is increasingly struck by a lack of orientation; its destructive effects are becoming increasingly evident. (Letter to the Bishops of the Catholic Church, 10 March 2010). The Jubilee of the Pallottine family coincides with the Year of Faith declared by the Holy Father “to arouse in every believer the aspiration to profess the faith in fullness and with renewed conviction, with confidence and hope. It will also be a good opportunity to intensify the celebration of the faith in the liturgy, especially in the Eucharist, which is “the summit towards which the activity of the Church is directed; ... and also the source from which all its power flows.” At the same time, we make it our prayer that believers’ witness of life may grow in credibility” (Porta Fidei, 9). This is the true danger to the faith, that modern and post modern idols could assume the place of God. They enslave us with the yoke of new and subtle idolatry visible to all. In such a context the Holy Father invites every member of the Society of the Catholic Apostolate to a generous commitment to working towards rediscovering the way of the Gospel for the man of today, inspired by the message left by St. Vincent Pallotti: “to revive faith and rekindle charity, and lead all men to Christ”. The spiritual and apostolic journey of every component of the Pallottine Family springs from the contemplation of the life and sanctity of the Founder during this jubilee year. It, thus, becomes a confirmation of the words of the Encyclical Deus Caritas Est: “Faith tells us that God has given his Son for our sake and gives us the victorious certainty that it is really true: God is love! It thus transforms our impatience and our doubts into the sure hope that God holds the world in his hands and that, as the dramatic imagery of the end of the Book of Revelation points out, in spite of all darkness he ultimately triumphs in glory. Faith, which sees the love of God revealed in the pierced heart of Jesus on the Cross, gives rise to love. Love is the light—and in the end, the only light—that can always illuminate a world grown dim and give us the courage needed to keep living and working”. Living faith and active charity are the two pillars on which Vincent Pallotti built up his luminous life and his generous works. They are the two interior forces that have stirred and sustained the manifold apostolic initiatives of Pallotti. “Charity of Christ urges us” (2 Cor. 5:14) was his motto with which he also motivated his followers. The fruit of his labor matured into the foundation of the Union of Catholic Apostolate. Right from its very beginning it greatly valued the collaboration of all of the faithful in the Church – laity, priests and consecrated – enlivening the faith of each that he/she could become an authentic apostle, a bearer of the fire of God’s love. Sharing with the Pallottine family these reflections on the occasion of the 50th anniversary of the canonization of the Holy Founder, the Successor of Peter entrusts the entire Union of Catholic Apostolate to the heavenly protection of Mary most Holy, Queen of Apostles and model of charity, and to St. Vincent Pallotti, invoking a fresh outpouring of the Divine Spirit for a fruitful ministry at the service of the New Evangelization and cordially imparts his Apostolic Blessing. With great esteem, I remain Most devoted in the Lord +Tarcisio Card. Bertone This is an English translation of the Italian original sent to Fr. Jacob Nampudakam SAC, Rector General of the Society of the Catholic Apostolate. Following the new Congress being sworn into office January 3rd, Inauguration Day is now upon us. On this day, hundreds of thousands turn out on the National Mall in Washington and millions tune in on television to watch the great spectacle. President Barack Obama will raise his right hand and place his left on two stacked Bibles as he takes the oath of office for another four-year term.
Inauguration Days are joyous for some but disappointing for others. Yet as Catholics, we also understand that regardless of who wins the oval office, Christ has already won. Because of Christ’s victory, we are called to act with charity toward our fellow citizens and even those who are not citizens. Sacrificial love transcends party lines and political boundaries. This day is a reminder to us that our country is in need of being rooted in God and in our faith. Yet it cannot be done by one human being and through political methods. One of the unique and fascinating traits of St. Vincent Pallotti, founder of the Union of Catholic Apostolate, was his ability to get others involved in the mission of the Church. He understood that an internal revitalization of the Church or renewal of faith was not going to occur by a single individual. Rather, he envisioned the renewal of the Church as everyone’s task – everyone’s mission. St. Vincent Pallotti formed a small group of followers at the beginning of his ministry to use their talents to evangelize and spread the good news of the Gospel. We too are called to use the skills and talents that God has given us and as the motto of the Catholic Apostolate Center states, to “revive faith, rekindle love and form apostles.” This is what it means to participate in the universal apostolate. And since we are created “in the image and likeness of God,” each of us has spiritual gifts that can touch the hearts of others. Consider the official motto of our nation: “In God we trust.” What God asks of us is that we trust in Him at all times, whatever the circumstances and in whatever situation, including whoever is in office. We must submit to His will as the all-knowing, all-powerful and ever-living God. All we need to know about our future and the future of our nation is contained within the trust of His will. We may have the tendency to want to change the direction and determine the course because we think we know it all. But our intelligence and judgment will only take us so far because God we cannot perceive the things God has in store by our sheer intellect. His ways are spiritually discerned. “‘For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways,’ declares the Lord.” (Isaiah 55:8) The United States has long declared where this nation’s trust resides. Our country has historically placed trust in God. Presidents come and go and so does inaugural hype and rhetoric. But the message of Christ and Christ himself are the same yesterday, today and forever (cf. Hebrews 13:8). Sarah Morris is a senior Politics major at The Catholic University of America. The night before I travel - whether by car, air or sea - I can’t help but begin to feel anxious and get a little overwhelmed about my upcoming journey. No matter how prepared I think I am or how necessary the trip is, I loathe the process of travelling. I’ve never had a ‘bad’ experience, but it isn’t something on my list of things to do every day either. While I’m sure I’m not alone in my sentiment, and there are probably 101 diagnoses as to why I don’t like travelling, I think it boils down to the fact that transition, no matter the circumstances, causes an upheaval of routine.
Throughout our lives, each of us has experienced the anxieties of transition in one way or another: graduating from school and starting a new job; getting married and having children; getting sick or losing a loved one. Every stage of our lives carries with it transition and to some extent, a change in routine. The Book of Ecclesiastes acknowledges this idea in a very poetic way: “There is an appointed time for everything, and a time for every affair under the heavens” (Eccl 3:1). The start of Ordinary Time is no different. While most of us would consider this transition as minimal, the truth is our ‘routine of solemnity’ has come to somewhat of a standstill for the next month. The Solemnity of the Presentation of the Lord (on February 2), and the memorial of Our Lady of Lourdes (on February 11) are among the highlights, but for the non-daily Mass crowd, they will be passed over with little thought. So, the question then becomes, what are we to make of these next few weeks? With less than a month before we begin our celebration of Lent with Ash Wednesday, many of us are tempted to ask what good these next four weeks of green - of Ordinary Time - truly serve? In fact, we might be tempted to brush them aside and regard them as a welcomed break in our otherwise hectic liturgical year. I would suggest, however, that looking at these next four ordinary weeks is essential to our spiritual well-being. Our Catholic faith has a rich history of using the ordinary to reveal the extraordinary. Our sacramental life is centered around the idea that ordinary elements - bread, wine, water, oil, gestures and even people - through the grace of God, constantly reveal extraordinary truths. Even in our secular day to day interactions, we believe that God reveals himself to us through the kind word or action of an ordinary passerby; oftentimes to our amazement. Both the Old and New Testaments tell countless stories of God using ordinary people to bring about His extraordinary plan of salvation: Abraham, Moses, David, Elijah, Elisha, Daniel, Jonah, John the Baptist, Peter and Paul, just to name a few. The lives of the saints and martyrs are no exception. Ss. Francis, Therese of Lisieux, Jerome, Vincent Pallotti, Elizabeth Ann Seton, Francis de Sales, among thousands of others, beautifully exemplify living ordinary lives for the sake of an extraordinary message. Knowing and understanding how God uses the ordinary should be a great source of hope for each of us. It is an invitation for each of us to strip away what we think we need to be and come as we are; in other words, for us to recognize the beauty of our own imperfect humanity. It is through our participation in the ordinary that we enter into a deeper, more honest and fruitful relationship with God, who is perfection. It’s true that this liturgical season, this transition, might bring about some uneasiness or anxiety because it is a break from our recent pomp and solemnity. For some, it might be a minimal, casual transition. And still for others, it might be off their radar completely. Whatever the case, I would suggest making these next four weeks truly ordinary. If we come as we are - as ordinary people - not just to reacclimate ourselves to a different routine, but to enter into an honest dialogue with God, I am confident He will use us in extraordinary ways. This kind of unique and authentic vulnerability is what we are called to, and why we were created. Why not take a little time to participate in it and enjoy it? On January 24th, we will celebrate the memorial of St. Francis de Sales. In his book, The Introduction to the Devout Life, he writes, “When God the Creator made all things, he commanded the plants to bring forth fruit each according to its own kind; he has likewise commanded Christians, who are the living plants of his Church, to bring forth the fruits of devotion, each one in accord with his character, his station and his calling… Therefore, in whatever situations we happen to be, we can and we must aspire to the life of perfection” (Pars 1, cap.3). As we begin this short period of Ordinary Time, we are reminded not of what we lack, but of why being ordinary is so necessary to bring about the extraordinary. We are reminded that each of us have been created as is, to bring about a life of devotion, not for our sake, but for the glory of God. In essence, we are reminded why the green of the thorn, eventually blooms into the white of the rose. Happy Ordinary Time! Jonathan Jerome is the Director of Catholic Campus Ministry at the University of Pittsburgh Johnstown. |
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