The Saints–The Heroes of our Catholic Family

Solemnity of All Saints

A few weeks ago I visited my maternal grandmother.  Her sister, my great-aunt Hilda, just moved from a house she had lived in with my great-grandfather since the 80s.  Of course, there were a lot of things that had to be sorted through when my Aunt Hilda was moving.  One of the things she found was mementos from some of my grandmother’s uncles from when the family was still in Belgium.  When I visited, my grandmother showed me the holy card that was made for her uncle Jules who died in World War I, shortly before the fighting stopped.

When older families members move or die, and we start cleaning out old houses, we can often find family treasures that we might not have even known existed.  Stories are told from one generation to the next about the heroes in our family who did, at least in our family’s estimation, great things.

Today we remember all of the heroes of our Catholic family.  Some of them have been canonized and are celebrated in Catholic churches at Mass around the world.  Others are saints who are in heaven, which is known only to God.  This is so often the case with family members, or particularly holy people we know: we know people who lived holy lives, but whom the church does not canonize because there’s no widespread devotion to them by others.  Today, on the Solemnity of All Saints, we celebrate the people who lived as disciples of Jesus, making Jesus their number one priority, even when it meant giving up other good things.

Jesus gives us the blueprint for how to do that in the Gospel today.  In teaching us the Beatitudes, Jesus teaches us how to be blessed, how to be holy.  We are called to be poor in spirit–to depend on God; to mourn for the sin that still exists in the world; to be meek and not seek after power and glory on earth; to work with all of who we are for justice; to show mercy and forgive; to dedicate our minds and our bodies to the Lord in living a chaste life; to work for peace by living in justice; and even to be persecuted for Jesus and His truth.  But I think that we hear this Gospel so often, that we can forget exactly what that looks like.  So I want to share with you two stories of our Catholic family heroes that hopefully will show you what that can look like.  Having said that, holiness looks a little different for everybody, because how we follow God is as unique as we.  But it always means living according to God’s plan for our life, and living as a disciple of Jesus, following His way, His truth, so as to receive His life.

The first heroes of our Catholic family that I will highlight today are Sts. Louis and Marie Martin, the parents of St. Thérèse of Lisieux.  They were canonized on October 18, just 2 weeks ago, and were the first married couple canonized on the same day.  Louis and Marie were a middle-class, French couple, who had nine children, though four died at an early age.  They went to daily Mass, made frequent confessions, and lived the corporal and spiritual works of mercy.  They tried to share their financial resources for the spreading of the faith, including donating money to build a seminary in Canada, though they lived in France.  They liked to go on walks, go fishing, and travel, when possible.  In 1877, at about the age of 45, Marie died from breast cancer, and left Louis with five daughters, the youngest of whom, Thérèse, was four and a half years old.  Louis later suffered his own illnesses, and died in 1894, at the age of 70.  In many ways, Louis and Marie lived out what St. Thérèse described as doing little things for God with great love.  There was very little extraordinary in their lives, but they lived it for God.

Another hero of our Catholic Family is Bl. Pier Giorgio Frassati.  He was born in Turin, Italy in 1901.  His mother was a painter, and his father was the founder and director of the Italian newspaper, La Stampa, who also became an Italian Senator and Ambassador to Germany.  Pier Giorgio went to Mass frequently, and had a strong devotion to the Eucharist and to the Blessed Virgin Mary.  He joined the St. Vincent de Paul society at the age of 17, and spent much of his time serving the sick and the needy, orphans, and injured soldiers from World War I.  While his family was quite wealthy, he spent his money for the poor, without his parents’ knowledge.  He loved mountain climbing, art, and music.  He was a Third Order Dominican, and worked ardently against Fascism in the political sphere.  Pier Giorgio contracted polio (probably from the sick with whom he spent so much time), and died at the age of 24 in 1925.  The night before he died, he wrote a note, asking his friend to take medicine to a poor, sick man he had been visiting.  At his funeral, the streets of the city were lined with many mourners who were unknown to his family–the poor and needy with whom Pier Giorgio spent so much of his time.  The poor and needy had no idea that Pier Giorgio was the heir of a wealthy, famous family.

Those are just two stories of our saints.  Yes, we have a lot of saints who are priests and consecrated men and women (nuns, monks, sisters, and brothers), but here are two who are lay people, like yourselves.  They didn’t do grandiose things, but did small things they could for God.  Their spiritual lives were not overly complicated: go to Mass, confess their sins, and serve the poor.  God is inviting each one of us to be saints right here, right now, in Adrian.  It’s not complicated: love God with all of who you are and love your neighbor as yourself.  God wants you to be a saint so that you can be truly happy.  Will you deny His desire for your life?

The Old Rugged Cross

Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

            Sometimes, in writing a homily, an idea just pops into your head by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, and He makes a theme known.  As I read over the readings for today on this past Monday, in preparation for writing the homily, there were so many things that I could preach on: from the first reading I saw the theme of the wisdom of God as opposed to the wisdom of the world; from the second reading I saw the theme of the fraternity of Christianity which excludes no one, not even, from St. Paul’s times, slaves who were considered property; from the Gospel I saw them theme of the cost of discipleship and whether one is strong enough to follow Jesus.  So I was wondering in which direction the Holy Spirit wanted me to go.

Then, on Wednesday, as I was driving in my car, I was listening to my iTunes, and I just felt drawn to listen to songs from an album called “How Great Thou Art: Gospel Favorites Live from the Grand Ole Opry.”  And I was driving a song came on which focused my attention for this week.  And that song was “The Old Rugged Cross.”  To me it became clear that the Holy Spirit wanted me to preach about the cross.

We don’t often think of the cross as beautiful.  It was the worst punishment that the Romans had devised to torture prisoners and foreigners.  It was so harsh that it was only applied to those who were not citizens of Rome.  And yet, Jesus says today, “‘Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.’”  Whoever does not carry his own ignominious symbol of defeat, cannot be a follower of Jesus.  That’s not the sort of thing you do to gain a large following.  No one wants to daydream about hanging, naked as the day you were born, in front of soldiers who are jeering at you, while your arms and legs are attached to the cross by nails.  No one wants to aim for being suspended on a rough piece of wood, the weight of your own body causing your lungs to slowly fill with fluid until you can no longer even breath.  And yet, as Christians, that is what we are called to do.

In the song, “The Old Rugged Cross,” the second half of the refrain goes, “I will cling to the old rugged cross and exchange it someday for a crown.”  It so easy to try to forget the cross part, and go straight for the crown.  Who doesn’t want to share in glory?!?  Who doesn’t want the reward?!?  And yet, the only way to do that is through the old, rugged cross.  St. Rose of Lima, the first canonized saint of the Americas, whose memorial we celebrated on 23 August adeptly related an experience of the Lord, who said to her, “‘Let all men know that grace comes after tribulation.  Let them know that without the burden of afflictions it is impossible to reach the height of grace…This is the only true stairway to paradise, and without the cross they can find no road to climb to heaven.’”  If we wish to go to heaven, then we must not only know the cross, but embrace and cling to it.  It may seem harsh, but it was the only way that our Master showed us, who only gained the resurrection after his crucifixion.

It’s also very easy to give the cross lip service.  We’ve become so used to it that we think we can utter beautiful platitudes about carrying our cross.  But when the cross comes into our lives, do we cling to it, embrace it?  Some crosses are big.  I think of the families in our parish who have miscarried, or who have lost a child shortly after birth.  What a cross.  Those families have certainly experienced the dying of Jesus in their lives, and, as much as they have united it to Jesus, will also experience the resurrection of Jesus.  Some crosses are small.  I think of those who talk about co-workers who get on their nerves; family members who always seem to be in trouble or looking for help; drivers who cut you off; the plans that fell through; the professor with whom you don’t see eye to eye; and the list goes on.  Those are also crosses, and more often than not I don’t think we embrace them.  We tend not to thank God for annoying co-workers, bad drivers, ruined plans.  And yet, that is the cross the Lord is presenting to us to carry.  That is what we should embrace.  St. Thérèse of Lisieux is a perfect example of this.  There were a few sisters in her convent who annoyed her to no end (I’m sure Sr. Dorothy and Sr. Liz have never experienced this): one with the sounds she made during prayer; another with her attitude.  What did she do?  She willed to love them and smile to them.  There was food that was prepared that she could not stand, but she smiled every time it was placed in front of her, because she saw in it the cross that the Lord had given her.  And, she smiled so much at that cross, that while she was dying with Tuberculosis, the sisters made some especially for her, thinking that it was her favorite!

To embrace the cross seems foolish.  St. Paul himself says, “but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those who are called, Jews and Greeks alike, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.  For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom.”  Isn’t that what our first reading is all about: the wisdom of God? God gave us His counsel, His wisdom, in Jesus, who teaches us to take up our cross and follow Him, so that we who share in Jesus’ suffering and death might also share in His resurrection.  May our words and our very lives be the second half of that refrain from “The Old Rugged Cross”: “I will cling to the old rugged cross, and exchange it someday for a crown.”

Facebook Friends with Jesus

Fifth Sunday of Easter

            Stay connected: that’s what social media says it can do for you.  It tells you that if you use the site, then you can keep track of all your friends’ (and general acquaintances’) birthdays, see what they are up to, rejoice in their triumphs, weep with them in sorrow, and stay connected. 

            And yet, the social fabric of our society is very disconnected.  You can have 700 friends on Facebook, and not really have anyone with which to share truly personal details.  You can follow hundreds of people on Twitter, read all of their accomplishments, sing along with their mopey song lyrics after a break up, and retweet their hilarious messages, and not truly have a real relationship with that person.  Now don’t get me wrong: I have no problem per se with Facebook, Twitter, or social media.  But, what I have noticed is that as much as social media says that it connects people, there are way too many people who feel adrift, without a true friend in the world.

            So when Jesus tells us today in the Gospel, “‘I am the vine, you are the branches.  Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit,’” our idea of staying connected to Jesus might be a little skewed.  After all, we’ve liked that picture on Facebook that says, “If you share this picture with your friends, Jesus will acknowledge you in heaven,” and we’ve retweeted the tweet that says, “Retweet if you love Jesus; keep scrolling if you love Satan.”  So we’re connected to Jesus, right? 

            Jesus reminds us that, “‘Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless your remain in me.’”  Our life, especially our spiritual life, depends on our attachment to Jesus.  If we are connected, then we bear fruit.  If we are separated, then we die, just as a branch connected to the vine bears grapes, while the braches that have been separated from the vine die and are good for nothing other than fuel for the fire. 

            More and more as a society, we don’t know how to be connected with each other.  We try to fake it and take the easy way out.  We’re so busy, either with our own schedules, or those of our family, that we are losing the ability to stay in touch with each other, even when it’s our own families.  How long has it been since you had a nice, Sunday dinner, where you sat around the table and just spent time with one another: hearing about what’s going on, sharing jokes and funny stories, supporting each other in hard times?  Some families still do, and they tend to be happier families.  Too often, though, there’s a game on Sunday, or work to be done, and if the family eats at home, it’s whenever each person wants, not together, and is usually enjoyed while watching TV, so there’s no real conversation.  We run around, and get fast food, and are experts at doing lots of things.  But we have become novices at simply being together, which accounts for the deep feelings of loneliness and separation that exist, especially among our youth.

            And because we don’t know how to be connected in our human relationships, we also are lost in how to be connected in our spiritual relationships.  More and more people come to me and say, “Father, I feel like God has abandoned me.  I can’t feel anything from God.”  For some, this is due to the fact that they do not know how to be connected to God, other than the shallow connections that are as ubiquitous as the dandelions in a field of grass this time of year.  So let me suggest a few ways to be connected to Jesus.

1.     Carve out daily time for God.  We’re all busy, I know.  I often feel like I’m running from one thing to another.  But, I have found that the more I am able to set aside blocks of time: 30 minutes here, 5 minutes there, 15 minutes there, the more I can respond to the spiritual needs of the parish, because I am more connected to the vine, the life, the wisdom, the patience that comes from God.  Just like an iPhone, which cannot work very long without connecting the tether to an outlet, so our souls cannot be refreshed unless they are connected to God in daily talking and listening with Him.

2.     Follow the commandments.  In our second reading, St. John tells us that the way we know we belong to the truth—Jesus—is that we keep His commandments.  Do we follow the 10 Commandments, and the precepts of the Church?  Do we strive to live an honest life, putting God first, others second, and ourselves last?  And when we fail, as we all will, then return to the Sacrament of Reconciliation, to be re-grafted onto the vine of life.

3.     Enjoy Mass.  Now, you might think this is outside of your control.  Maybe you don’t like the homily; maybe you don’t like the music; maybe the pew’s not as relaxing as you would like; maybe you can’t stand that young priest.  But, while we can’t control the homily, the music, the pews, or the priest, we can come to Mass thanking God that we can set aside time to rest and relax in Him.  We can come to Mass at least 5 minutes early for silent prayer, and not leave Mass immediately after communion, rushing off to the next event, but make time to be with the Lord.  Vatican II taught that the Eucharist is the source and summit of the Christian life.  It is where we get our energy to be Christians and it orients us, if we are open, to the eternal liturgy of heaven where the angels and saints (and hopefully someday we will be saints) worship God.

4.     Read your monthly copy of FAITH Magazine, or check out or download a spiritual book, like The Lord by Romano Guardini, or Story of a Soul, by St. Thérèse of Lisiuex, or Peace of Soul by Archbishop Fulton Sheen, or To Whom Shall We Go? by Timothy Cardinal Dolan, or another Catholic book.  The soul is not separate from the body, and so feeding our mind with spiritual reading also feeds our souls. 

We live in a disconnected world.  We are so busy doing things with other people or for other people, that we have forgotten how to simply be with other people, including Jesus.  And no matter how many friends we have on Facebook; no matter how many followers we have on Twitter, we are not going to feel whole, to feel connected, unless we are united to Jesus the Vine.  Take time to spend with each other.  Make time for Jesus.  It will be the best investment you will ever make.  

Saintly Instructors

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            Catholics are not generally known for their knowledge of Scripture.  This is particularly sad because the entire New Testament was written by Catholics, guided by the Holy Spirit.  But still, Catholics do not do well in Bible memorization compared with our Protestant brothers and sisters. 

Still, if there’s one passage from Scripture that every Catholic knows, it is certainly the passage from today’s Gospel: “‘You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind…[and] you shall love your neighbor as yourself.’”  Not a bad quote to have memorized, as “‘the whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments.’”

But, we have to admit, the Law of Love, as it has come to be known, is pretty broad.  It lacks a certain amount of details.  What if I think that it’s perfectly fine, even if I’m not sick or homebound, to sit in my back yard all day Sunday, admiring God’s beautiful creation, but never going to Mass?  Is that loving God with my whole heart, soul, and mind?  Some would certainly say so, though probably not those who are here, because they’re probably outside, in their back yards, admiring God’s creation instead of coming to Mass.  But who’s to say?  Or what if I think that it’s quite loving to steal a little bit of money on an irregular basis, because I need the money more, and my large company won’t really miss it; they have enough profit without this little bit of cash?  Is that loving my neighbor as myself? 

Certainly, if this were the only thing Jesus had said, then we could rightfully critique his vagueness.  But, of course, we have the rest of Scripture which helps us to know exactly what is the loving thing.  We hear a little bit about that in the Book of Exodus, as God tells us that loving our neighbor means not oppressing the foreigners, widows, or orphans, because their cries to God are precious and are always heard, and God will repay.  We certainly also have the Church, the Body of Christ, which teaches with Jesus’ authority on earth as to what we should or should not be doing, believing, etc.  It is the Church’s particular mission to guide Her children, that is, us, into a life of truth and holiness.  And in order to do this effectively and without error in matters of faith and morals, Christ gives a special charism, a special gift, to His Church, so that she never errs in faith or morals so that we can have a true compass to help us to know what exactly it means to love God and love our neighbor.

But another guide comes from our second reading.  St. Paul states that the Thessalonians became imitators of him and of the Lord.  St. Paul in his first letter to the Corinthians also said, “Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.”  St. Paul puts himself out there as a model to be followed, because he is modeling his life on Jesus.

We have tons of options for role models today.  We have American Idols, athletes, actors and actresses, musicians, family members, and many others.  And while I would certainly encourage us to learn follow the example of our secular role models when they are worth following (when they are living according to the Gospel), as Catholics we have family members, long since dead in many cases, who say to us by their deeds, if not by their words, “Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.”

St. Monica & St. Augustine

These role models that we should have, these Catholic ancestors of ours, are the saints.  They are the true role models, the people that we should truly be following.  Many years ago it was “Christian cool” to have a bracelet that said WWJD—What Would Jesus Do?  But, as Catholics, we could have just as easily had bracelets that said WWMD—What Would Mary Do? or WWPD—What Would Peter Do? and those are only two saints.  Each day of the year the Church puts before us a saint: some we celebrate at Mass, others are more local saints and never get big celebrations.  But all of them help us to know what it means to love God and love our neighbor. 

St. Thérèse

      Are you a mother or grandmother whose children have fallen away from the faith and lived not such a holy life?  Look to St. Monica, who won the conversion of her son, St. Augustine, by her tears after Augustine had wondered into just about every main heresy, had a child or two out of wedlock, and was far away from home for a while.  Are you a young man who loves adventure and the outdoors?  Look to Bl. Pier Giorgio Frassati, who was secretly very generous to the poor, and who loved to explore God’s beautiful creation (while still attending Mass on Sundays), and whose famous phrase “Verso l’alto” means to climb towards the top, to be the best not only in competition, but especially in love of God and of neighbor.  Are you daddy’s little princess?  Look to St. Thérèse, who was her dad’s princess, and knew that, although she could never do big things in her life, she still wanted to do small things with great love.

Bl. Pier Giorgio Frassati

The Church is full of the example of saints who show us in their own circumstances how to love God and love our neighbor, according to their state in life: whether priest, deacon, wife, husband, king, queen, poor person, wild person, religious, child, you name it.  They are models to us of a life of holiness, sometimes after very sinful parts of their life.  The more we read about the lives of the saints, the more we will understand in any given situation what it means to truly love God and truly love our neighbor as ourselves because we will have learned how saints have loved in similar circumstances.  And then, if we love God and love our neighbor, then maybe others, centuries from now, will look to us for help from heaven, to show them what it means to love God with our whole heart, soul, and mind, and to love our neighbors as ourselves.  All holy men and women of God, pray for us!!