September1 in Year A 11

Thursday 22nd Week in Ordinary Time to Our Lady of Sorrows (Thursday 24th Week in OT)

Click on any date to go to the Thought for that Day

Morning Offering: O Jesus, through the most pure heart of Mary, I offer you all the prayers, works, joys and sufferings of this day for all the intentions of your divine heart, in union with the holy sacrifice of the Mass. I offer them especially for the Holy Father's intentions:

Pope Benedict's general intention for September is: "For all teachers, that they may convey love in truth and educate in authentic moral and spiritual values."

His mission intention is: "That the Christian communities spread throughout the Asian continent may proclaim the Gospel with fervour, bearing witness to beauty with the joy of the faith ."

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Entrance Antiphon Cf. Ps 86 (85):3, 5 Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I cry to you all the day long. O Lord, you are good and forgiving, full of mercy to all who call to you.

Collect God of might, giver of every good gift, put into our hearts the love of your name, so that, by deepening our sense of reverence, you may nurture in us what is good and, by your watchful care, keep safe what you have nurtured. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

Despite the fact that much about St. Giles is shrouded in mystery, we can say that he was one of the most popular saints in the Middle Ages. Likely, he was born in the first half of the 7th century in southeastern France. That is where he built a monastery that became a popular stopping-off point for pilgrims making their way to Compostela in Spain and the Holy Land. In England, many ancient churches and hospitals were dedicated to Giles. One of the sections of the city of Brussels is named after him. In Germany, Giles was included among the so-called 14 Holy Helpers, a popular group of saints to whom people prayed, especially for recovery from disease and for strength at the hour of death. Also among the 14 were Saints Christopher, Barbara and Blase. Interestingly, Giles was the only non-martyr among them. Devotion to the "Holy Helpers" was especially strong in parts of Germany and in Hungary and Sweden. Such devotion made his popularity spread. Giles was soon invoked as the patron of the poor and the disabled. The pilgrimage centre that once drew so many fell into disrepair some centuries after Giles' death. (AmericanCatholic.org)

One day as Jesus was standing by the Lake of Gennesaret, with the people crowding round him and listening to the word of God, he Shroud of Turin

saw at the water's edge two boats, left there by the fishermen, who were washing their nets. He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little from shore. Then he sat down and taught the people from the boat. When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch. Simon answered, Master, we've worked hard all night and haven't caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets. When they had done so, they caught such a large number of fish that their nets began to break. So they signalled to their partners in the other boat to come and help them, and they came and filled both boats so full that they began to sink. When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at Jesus' knees and said, Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man! For he and all his companions were astonished at the catch of fish they had taken, and so were James and John, the sons of Zebedee, Simon's partners. Then Jesus said to Simon, Don't be afraid; from now on you will catch men. So they pulled their boats up on shore, left everything and followed him. (Luke 5: 1-11)

God, holy and loving It is obvious that power does not of itself imply goodness. Power is one of the earliest of a person’s experiences: he experiences the power of his parents or guardians, the power of his teachers, the power of his rulers. All through life he is coming to terms with the power that is exercised over him. It is a moot point whether this power is generally exercised well or badly, whether the ones who exercise it are themselves good or bad people. If he himself gains power, the story is the same. He can be corrupted by power, and liable to use his power in ways that are not good. One thing is certain, power is very often in the hands of bad people, and it is often exercised in profoundly harmful ways. Great power was in the hands of Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin, and Pol Pot. As a result of their exercise of power, countless lives were lost and an incalculable degree of suffering was visited upon societies over which they had some reach. Perhaps as a result of this common human experience, the religions of man do not portray the gods, who exercise heavenly power, as consistently good. In fact, it is a question whether there were any gods at all who were perceived as purely good. In the rituals and myths of the religions, divine power is a mixed blessing. Power is the foremost attribute of the gods, the principal thing man thought of when thinking of the divine. Man is weak and vulnerable, and so he turns to the heavens for divine aid, or at least to ensure that the gods do not become irritable and hostile. All up, quite often the heavens are not perceived as a very heavenly place, but are more or less a projection of the mixed bag of the powers at work in our very broken world. However, this is not the whole story of power. Power is exercised by good people in good and beneficial ways, and, at times, by persons of holiness. As a matter of fact, the most powerful person ever to have appeared among men was utterly and completely holy. I refer, of course, to Jesus Christ. No-one has ever had his scale of power. He could do anything he chose. He could heal any disease, feed vast numbers with practically nothing, calm storms, raise the dead — anything at all. In his case, absolute power was in the hands of One who was absolutely good.

In our Gospel today (Luke 5: 1-11), our Lord is teaching the crowds from Simon’s boat. He finished speaking to them and turned to Simon who, obviously, was with him in the boat. He asked Simon to move the boat out into the deep, for they were very near to the shore. Go out more into the deep, he said, and lower your nets for a catch. Teacher, Simon said in reply, I have been at it all night long, but have caught nothing. But if you say so, I will let down the nets. Let us notice Simon’s full and simple faith in Jesus. God’s will — as manifest in providence, circumstances, directives from those above us — ushers us through doors we might think offer little or no satisfying prospect. What Christ told him to do, Simon scarcely thought to be promising or satisfying to him in terms of practical result. But he readily did it on the word of Jesus Christ. The result was instantaneous and astounding. They “caught such a large number of fish that their nets began to break. So they signalled to their partners in the other boat to come and help them, and they came and filled both boats so full that they began to sink.” Both boats were beginning to sink with the fish. It was a miracle, a sign of great power though exercised on a small arena with a tiny audience. It was meant for Simon and his companions, principally James and John the sons of Zebedee — Simon’s (and presumably Andrew’s) partners. This display of power was life-changing for them, but not least because it manifested the utter holiness of the One possessing the power. The response of Simon to the unexpected miracle before him was a hearty and humble recognition not only, nor perhaps primarily, of the power of Jesus Christ. What he especially recognized was the holiness of Christ, and by contrast his own sinfulness. Christ’s power manifested his holiness. This was consistent with the entire sweep of divine revelation: God, in exercising his power, manifested his holiness. It is a tribute to Simon, and a sign of his greatness of soul, that it was precisely Christ’s holiness which he perceived in the power that had been shown before him. “When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at Jesus' knees and said, Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!” This was scarcely the response of, say, the Pharisees.

That Simon, having so commendably perceived the holiness of Jesus Christ in the exercise of his power, should then stress the distance between them, is natural. Go away from me, Lord! he said. Rudolf Otto in his landmark work, The Idea of the Holy, stresses not only the attraction of the holy, but the terror it inspires in wayward man. But there is more. Christ reveals not only divine power, not only divine holiness, but divine love. Do not be afraid! he assures Simon. God does not want the sinner who loves him to fear being in his presence. Come to me, he says to Simon. Do not be afraid, for from now on you will catch men. The all-powerful God is holy. But especially, he is loving.

"Master," Simon replied "we worked hard all night long and caught nothing" Simon Peter and his companions had spent the whole night, he would tell our Lord, working hard at their fishing, and had caught nothing. How well that statement reflects much of human effort and work, at least as it appears to the ones doing the work. Our daily round of work is ordinary, uneventful, and all too often seemingly fairly fruitless. We would love to see dramatic results, achievements that will bring great benefits to ourselves and to others who depend on us. But all too often it is not so. Our life is ordinary. But this does not make it less pleasing to God — especially if our work is done in a spirit of obedience and trust in his loving wisdom. But then our Lord asks Simon to put out for a catch, and instantly a great catch is made. Among the many lessons this Gospel passage teaches is that of obedience. If we but obey Christ and God, working to fulfill the responsibilities he gives us or which providence seems to beckon us to assume, in his own time, whether quickly or in the fulness of time, God will grant the increase. The fruit will come.

Let us then spend our days doing what God wants us to do and sanctifying our daily work, be it seemingly uneventful or obviously fruitful. In this way will we be sanctified, and God will be glorified.

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Get very close to your Mother, the Virgin Mary. You ought to be united to God always: seek that union with him by staying near his Blessed Mother.

Entrance Antiphon Cf. Ps 86 (85):3, 5 Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I cry to you all the day long. O Lord, you are good and forgiving, full of mercy to all who call to you.

These priests were victims of the French Revolution. Though their martyrdom spans a period of several years, they stand together in the Church’s memory because they all gave their lives for the same principle. The Civil Constitution of the Clergy (1791) required all priests to take an oath which amounted to a denial of the faith. Each of these men refused and was executed. John Francis Burté became a Franciscan at 16 and after ordination taught theology to the young friars. Later he was guardian of the large Conventual friary in Paris until he was arrested and held in the convent of the Carmelites. Appolinaris of Posat was born in 1739 in Switzerland. He joined the Capuchins and acquired a reputation as an excellent preacher, confessor and instructor of clerics. Sent to the East as a missionary, he was in Paris studying Oriental languages when the French Revolution began. Refusing the oath, he was swiftly arrested and detained in the Carmelite convent. Severin Girault, a member of the Third Order Regular, was a chaplain for a group of sisters in Paris. Imprisoned with the others, he was the first to die in the slaughter at the convent. These three plus 182 others—including several bishops and many religious and diocesan priests—were massacred at the Carmelite house in Paris on September 2, 1792. They were beatified in 1926. John Baptist Triquerie, born in 1737, entered the Conventual Franciscans. He was chaplain and confessor of Poor Clare monasteries in three cities before he was arrested for refusing to take the oath. He and 13 diocesan priests were guillotined in Laval on January 21, 1794. He was beatified in 1955.

“The upheaval which occurred in France toward the close of the 18th century wrought havoc in all things sacred and profane and vented its fury against the Church and her ministers. Unscrupulous men came to power who concealed their hatred for the Church under the deceptive guise of philosophy.... It seemed that the times of the early persecutions had returned. The Church, spotless bride of Christ, became resplendent with bright new crowns of martyrdom” (Acts of Martyrdom). (AmericanCatholic.org)

They said to Jesus, John's disciples often fast and pray, and so do the disciples of the Pharisees, but yours go on eating and drinking. Jesus answered, Can you make the guests of the bridegroom fast while he is with them? But the time will come when the bridegroom will be taken from them; in those days they will fast. He told them this parable: No-one tears a patch from a new garment and sews it on an old one. If he does, he will have torn the new garment, and the patch from the new will not match the old. And no-one pours new wine into old wineskins. If he does, the new wine will burst the skins, the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined. No, new wine must be poured into new wineskins. And no-one after drinking old wine wants the new, for he says, 'The old is better.' (Luke 5: 33-39)

Bridegroom There are many unique features of the godhead as it is portrayed in the Judeo-Christian revelation. There are other features of it that are rarely seen in the religions of mankind. For instance, it is, at the very least, rare among religions for there to be but one God. Almost always there are many, and that is to be expected, for man’s experience is that numerous persons and forces are responsible for what happens. It is almost impossible to imagine but one person or force being the cause of everything that has Fr. Ted Tyler

happened or that exists. It is scarcely to be expected that one unseen deity, and only one, is responsible for the existence and course of all that is, be it seen or unseen. The task would be too great. Perhaps this is the most striking thing about revealed religion, that it is a religion of monotheism. Further, the God of whom it speaks is almighty. This too is difficult to imagine, especially for modern man who is acutely aware of the laws of the universe which seem to be inexorable — especially as prayer often seems to be futile. But there is another striking feature of revealed religion, and it would be interesting to know whether it is actually unique. I am sure it is at least rare. I refer to God’s own description of his relationship with his people. It is common for a tribe, a society, or a nation to have its particular gods. I am not sure that it is common in the lore of those societies that its gods especially choose them for their own — I suspect that they themselves, the tribes or societies, gradually chose their gods. In the case of the God of revelation, on his own initiative he chose certain individuals and through them he chose a people. His choice of them was an initiative of love. But consider how he described himself in relation to them. An important image of God, both in the Old Testament and in the New, was of a Bridegroom. There is a great tenderness on the part of Yahweh towards his people, as it is expressed in some of the prophets. Especially in the prophet Hosea, God is Husband to his people. His chosen people is his spouse. His insistence that they not worship other gods is cast in terms of a marriage bond and relationship. It is a question of marital fidelity. It could be argued that the name that God gave to Moses as being his own name (Yahweh) has the connotation of Bridegroom — I am, and as I am, I shall be there with them.

No prophet of the Old Testament would dare to refer to himself as the people’s Bridegroom. This would surely be tantamount to suggesting that, in some sense, he shares in the status and life of God whom at least some prophets — as mentioned above — referred to as the Bridegroom or Husband. But Jesus Christ calmly does this very thing. At the query about his disciples not fasting and praying after the manner of the disciples of John and those of the Pharisees, Christ says “Can you make the guests of the bridegroom fast while he is with them? But the time will come when the bridegroom will be taken from them; in those days they will fast” (Luke 5: 33-39). Jesus Christ is “the bridegroom” and he envisages his presence among them as being part of a “wedding.” In him, God the Bridegroom has come for, and begun, the nuptials. There is to be a marriage, a great union of love established, a new life. His disciples are the guests, and it can scarcely be expected that anything other than rejoicing occur while he is still among them. It is also to be remembered that Yahweh God uses the image of Bridegroom and Husband not in reference to his relationship with individuals, but in respect to his relationship with his people. He is not “Husband” to Moses, but his “friend.” He is Husband to his chosen people. So, too, does Jesus Christ refer to himself as “bridegroom” in relation to his people in the first instance, and not to individuals. At the Last Supper, he tells his disciples that he does not call them servants, but “friends.” He is not their “bridegroom” but their “friend.” The religion of Jesus Christ is a religion of personal friendship with him who is the Son of God and our Redeemer. This friendship involves a share in his life, which is the life of grace. But when it is a question of the entire Church, then the image of Bridegroom is used of Christ, just as it was used of Yahweh God in the Old Testament in relation to his people. A Christian marriage shares in this relationship and is a sign of it. Further, Christian spirituality has extended the term to include the relationship between Christ and each member of the Church. The point, though, is that Christ has come to unite to himself all the children of God who accept him in faith. All together, they are called to be in him as his new people. He is Bridegroom to the Church, his spouse.

This is surely a special and remarkable feature of the Christian religion. It is yet another expression of the revelation that God is love in a way that far surpasses any doctrine of the other religions of mankind. The unseen heart of all reality is a limitless furnace of pure, holy, infinite, all-powerful love. There is love in the world, reaching sublime points at times — well, it is especially this which reflects the heart and soul of the source of all reality. That heart and soul is the infinite, transcendent, immanent God. He has become man, and is with us constantly as Bridegroom. Let us live on the basis of faith in this stupendous revelation, the revelation of the love of God for each and all.

“Christ is the image of the unseen God and the first-born of all creation” By and large, throughout Christian history the temptation has Fr. Ted Tyler

constantly been to think of Jesus Christ as simply a man, a very great religious man indeed, but still simply a man. This was the case during our Lord’s own life and public ministry. This is natural — all too natural — because, as was obvious to all, Jesus Christ was a man. But he himself revealed, and the Father revealed, and the Holy Spirit revealed that he was also the Son of God, and equal to the Father. St John’s Gospel makes clear that the scribes and Pharisees could see what our Lord was claiming to be: they attempted to stone him because, they asserted, he was only a man and yet he claimed that God was his very Father and so he made himself equal to God. Jesus is indeed man, but the distinctively Christian claim is that first and foremost he is God. He is a divine Person. St Paul in the first reading (Colossians 1: 15-20) gives Jesus the highest titles, and we ought ponder them often. He is the image of the unseen God and all is created in him and through him and for him. He is the head of the Church which is his body, and by his Cross he redeemed all. We should take active steps to preserve in our hearts the highest reverence for the divinity of Jesus. If we do not, we shall not have the inner conviction nor the courage born of love to be able to bear witness to Jesus before various non-Christians (Buddhists, Hindus, Moslems etc) and virtual atheists around us.

Jesus is God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, Son and Image of the Father, head of the Church and our Redeemer.

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Listen to me: being in the world and belonging to the world does not mean being worldly.

Entrance Antiphon Cf. Ps 86 (85):3, 5 Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I cry to you all the day long. O Lord, you are good and forgiving, full of mercy to all who call to you.

(September 3) Saint Gregory the Great, pope and doctor of the Church (540?-604)

Coming events cast their shadows before: Gregory was the prefect of Rome before he was 30. After five years in office he resigned, founded six monasteries on his Sicilian estate and became a Benedictine monk in his own home at Rome. Ordained a priest, he became one of the pope's seven deacons, and also served six years in the East as papal representative in Constantinople. He was recalled to become abbot, and at the age of 50 was elected pope by St Gregory The Great

the clergy and people of Rome. He was direct and firm. He removed unworthy priests from office, forbade taking money for many services, emptied the papal treasury to ransom prisoners of the Lombards and to care for persecuted Jews and the victims of plague and famine. He was very concerned about the conversion of England, sending 40 monks from his own monastery. He is known for his reform of the liturgy, for strengthening respect for doctrine. Whether he was largely responsible for the revision of "Gregorian" chant is disputed. Gregory lived in a time of perpetual strife with invading Lombards and difficult relations with the East. When Rome itself was under attack, he interviewed the Lombard king. An Anglican historian has written: "It is impossible to conceive what would have been the confusion, the lawlessness, the chaotic state of the Middle Ages without the medieval papacy; and of the medieval papacy, the real father is Gregory the Great." His book, Pastoral Care, on the duties and qualities of a bishop, was read for centuries after his death. He described bishops mainly as physicians whose main duties were preaching and the enforcement of discipline. In his own down-to-earth preaching, Gregory was skilled at applying the daily gospel to the needs of his listeners. Called "the Great," Gregory has been given a place with Augustine, Ambrose and Jerome as one of the four key doctors of the Western Church. "Perhaps it is not after all so difficult for a man to part with his possessions, but it is certainly most difficult for him to part with himself. To renounce what one has is a minor thing; but to renounce what one is, that is asking a lot" (St. Gregory, Homilies on the Gospels). (AmericanCatholic.org)

One Sabbath Jesus was going through the cornfields, and his disciples began to pick some ears of corn, rub them in their hands and eat the grain. Some of the Pharisees asked, Why are you doing what is unlawful on the Sabbath? Jesus answered them, Have you never read what David did when he and his companions were hungry? He entered the house of God, and taking the consecrated bread, he ate what is lawful only for priests to eat. And he also gave some to his companions. Then Jesus said to them, The Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath. (Luke 6: 1-5)

The Sabbath The Gospels do not purport to present a complete picture of the religious classes of Judaism at the time of Jesus Christ. By that I mean, especially, that for all the conflict that obtained between Jesus Christ and the scribes, Pharisees, Sadducees, priestly aristocracy and rulers generally, the picture thus presented is not meant to be the whole story. Christ did not think, nor did he say, nor do the Gospels say that, for instance, the Pharisees were a wholly corrupt religious class. Out of that class came one of the most outstanding Christians of all time, Saul of Tarsus. While the same Saul is not mentioned in the Gospels, one of the Gospel authors (St Luke) makes of him a major protagonist in his account of the infant Church, The Acts of the Apostles. Nicodemus, for whom St John takes pains to give space in his Gospel, was not only a disciple of Jesus Christ, but with Joseph of Arimathea — a fellow leader of the Jews — went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus and gave him an honoured, if hasty, burial. This was when the Twelve were demoralized and perhaps in hiding after the catastrophe of Christ’s death. Plainly, many of the Pharisees were corrupt and constituted a significant element among those who orchestrated the Passion and Death of the Messiah. But let us give credit where it is due. If there is one thing that especially distinguished the religious life of the Jewish nation in the context of classical times, it was the observance of the Sabbath Day. It was one of the Ten Commandments, and one feature of keeping holy the Sabbath was precisely the Sabbath Rest. It was a day when the ordinary work-a-day week came to an end, and the nation rested — which is to say, rested in God. It was the Lord’s Day, involving Synagogue and rest from ordinary work. Now, it seems that it was especially the Pharisee class that pressured the nation at various levels to observe the Sabbath rest. This was a great achievement over a long period of time, even if it was marred by a profoundly mixed motivation on the part of very many of them, and even if it ran far to excess in the detail. As the saying goes, the devil was in the detail, and Christ saw the presence of the devil in some of it.

The Sabbath rest was a pivotal institution in the life of the chosen people of God, and in this the nation had much to thank the Pharisees for. One need only think of the modern age, and in particular the practice of the Christian Sabbath to appreciate the point. All would recognize and expect that among the traditional Christian communions (and excluding some small, tightly-knit Christian communities), the Catholic Church commands the leading religious practice. But consider the Sabbath practice among its adherents. More Catholics participate in Sunday worship than others, but still, it is low. It is very far from being the majority. More to the point here, how many regard Sunday as a true day of religious rest, a day of rest in God, the Lord’s Day? What a difference to the religious life of the Church’s children it would be if the Sabbath were observed as it ought to be! I say this to emphasize the achievement of the Pharisees, and especially to emphasize the importance of the Third Commandment in revealed religion — and it was the observance of the Third Commandment which was the issue in our Gospel scene today (Luke 6: 1-5). “Remember to keep holy the Sabbath Day. Six days you may labour and do all your work, but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord your God ... the Lord has blessed the Sabbath and made it holy” (Exodus 20: 8-11). It was to be the Day when the nation would interrupt ordinary work and turn to the Lord their God, recalling his work of creation and his redemption of them from slavery. In view of the central importance of this institution in revealed religion, our Gospel passage today, which recalls the words of Jesus Christ on it, is of capital importance. Christ tells us that he is the Lord of the Sabbath. If anyone had been asked, who is the Lord of the Sabbath? then of course he would have answered that it was the Lord God. “The seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord your God (Exodus 20:10). Here, though, Christ says in the presence of his critics, the guardians of the Sabbath, that he, Jesus of Nazareth, is the Lord of the Sabbath! The Sabbath is, then, the Day of the Lord Jesus Christ. We are to rest in him on that day.

On another occasion our Lord said, “Come to me all you who labour and are heavily burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you ... You will find rest for your souls.” We were made to find our rest in Jesus Christ. He is our source of happiness, fulfilment, peace and rest. Mankind was made to find happiness in him as Lord, Lord of all. This is expressed in the Christian Sabbath, the Day of the Lord Jesus when he rose from the dead. Through him all things had been made, and he re-created fallen man by his death and resurrection. Let us resolve to observe well the Sabbath and make it the day when we turn aside from our ordinary round to rest in the Lord Jesus, through the Eucharistic celebration, gentle prayer, and general restoration.

"Now you are able to appear before him holy, pure and blameless — as long as you persevere" If we are ever to live a vigorous Christian life we must see the fundamental things with a sharp and clear focus. That focus can be achieved if we keep before us certain great contrasts, certain clear-cut alternatives. St Paul in the first Reading (Colossians 1:21-23) describes those contrasts. Once, he tells the Colossians, they did "evil things". Now God "has reconciled" them, and they "are able to appear before him holy, pure and blameless." There is a vivid contrast presented here between evil and holiness. Holiness is the all-important objective. But of course, the reader must desire holiness. Indeed, we must have a very great desire for it. God has implanted this desire within us, but sin and evil can all but extinguish this desire. It is possible to "drift away from the hope promised by the Good News, which you have heard". That hope is to be free of sin and to be "holy, pure and blameless" in the sight of God. St Paul elsewhere writes that before the world was made God chose us, chose us in Christ to be holy and full of love in his sight.

By the power of God holiness is possible for each of us. But do we want it? We really have to want it and make it our daily choice. It is the one thing necessary.

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You have to act like a burning coal, spreading fire wherever it happens to be; or at least, striving to raise the spiritual temperature of the people around you, leading them to live a truly Christian life.

Entrance Antiphon Ps 119 (118): 137, 124 You are just, O Lord, and your judgment is right; treat your servant in accord with your merciful love.

Collect O God, by whom we are redeemed and receive adoption, look graciously upon your beloved sons and daughters, that those who believe in Christ may receive true freedom and an everlasting inheritance. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

Rose achieved sainthood in only 18 years of life. Even as a child Rose had a great desire to pray and to aid the poor. While still very young, she began a life of penance in her parents’ house. She was as generous to the poor as she was strict with herself. At the age of 10 she became a Secular Franciscan and soon began preaching in the streets about sin and the sufferings of Jesus. Viterbo, her native city, was then in revolt against the pope. When Rose took the pope’s side against the emperor, she and her family were exiled from the city. When the pope’s side won in Viterbo, Rose was allowed to return. Her attempt at age 15 to found a religious community failed, and she returned to a life of prayer and penance in her father’s home, where she died in 1251. Rose was canonized in 1457. Rose's dying words to her parents were: "I die with joy, for I desire to be united to my God. Live so as not to fear death. For those who live well in the world, death is not frightening, but sweet and precious." (AmericanCatholic.org)

Scripture today: Ezechiel 33: 7-9; Psalm 94; Romans 13: 8-10; Matthew 18: 15-20

Jesus said to his disciples: If your brother sins against you, go and show him his fault, just between the two of you. If he listens to you, you have won your brother over. But if he will not listen, take one or two others along, so that 'every matter may be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses.' If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if he refuses to listen even to the church, treat him as you would a pagan or a tax collector. I tell you the truth, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven. Again, I tell you that if two of you on earth agree about anything you ask for, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven. For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them. (Matthew 18: 15-20)

"Son of man, I have appointed you as sentry to the House of Israel." (Ezechiel 33: 7-9)

Society’s calling Both our Gospel and our passage from Ezechiel remind us that we are our brother's keeper. We are born into a society, we live in a society, we work in a society, we serve a society. We are social by nature and by calling. Inasmuch as a person without goals is a person adrift, our goals in life must include our aims in respect to society. Christ is the key to everything created. All things, the Christian knows, find meaning and life in him, for in him dwells the fulness of the godhead bodily. “He who sees me,” our Lord said to his disciples, “sees the Father”. Our ultimate goal, our calling from Fr. Ted Tyler

all eternity, is to be in Christ. It is by being in him that we are made children of our heavenly Father, sharing in his life. It is by being in Christ, and walking in his footsteps, that we become more and more perfect images of the Father. Be you imitators of me, St Paul writes, as I am of Christ. Just as that is the case for each of us individually, just as it is the case for the whole Church, so too it is the case for human society. Society has its calling, as does each human being. Society is called to be in Christ, and to be more and more transformed into the image of the Son. As this applies to the individual, so it applies also to the human community as a whole. This is the meaning of our Lord’s final charge to his disciples prior to ascending into heaven — Go to the whole world and make disciples of all the nations. This is the radical Christian vision of human society, and it is something every Christian ought sustain in his heart. But the problem for society, as for the individual and the Church, is sin. The world is weighed down with sin. But there is this added complication that for the great majority of persons in a modern secular world, “sin” is unreal. Society accepts the fact of wrongdoing, but not the fact of “sin,” for sin views “wrongdoing” in the light of its relation to God. God is not viewed as an objective reality. Wrongdoing viewed precisely as an offence against the Creator is deemed to be a subjective belief or persuasion, not an objective fact. Hence it is that any talk of society as such turning to God, or of discovering the Lordship of Christ, let alone accepting his doctrine and living in him as a public position, is preposterous, unreal and irrelevant to the practical moral work of solving society’s evils. There is thus a tremendous challenge facing the distinctive mission of the Church and her members to society.

Nothing, though, will be done unless each and every Christian understands and accepts this mission which is to draw society towards Christ, with the ultimate goal of it being in him. The goal of man and of society is to be in Christ — to be in union with him and to live by his life. An essential aspect of this mission to bring society to Christ is the readiness by the Christian to enter into what we might broadly call conversation or dialogue with the society around us. When we read the newspapers and follow national and community discussions about the ways to meet society’s needs, we ought enter into such discussions as opportunity presents itself. We ought strive to bring to the conversation effective solutions which Christ’s teaching, as elaborated by the Church in her social doctrine, suggest. This teaching is grounded on an acceptance of the reality of God and the divinity of Jesus Christ. When it comes to the needs of society, about which there is constantly so much discussion, and in which the Christian is called to participate, there is one fundamental need which is almost always overlooked. That need is for God. God is what individuals and society need most of all. But it is precisely against this turning to God which secular man and secular society is typically so prejudiced. God is absent from the conscience and the consciousness of modern Western society, and there is an underlying suspicion that God is not really man’s friend. It is suspected that God is not really good for society. So it is desired that he be out of sight, and out of the discussion. He is a burden, and man is better off with him out of the way, or viewed in a way that makes him far less at odds and inconvenient. So it is that the secular world pursues its agendas without reference to God. This view of things is what the Christian, participating in the conversation going on about society’s needs, must try to bring forward for radical reappraisal. Society’s ills cannot be resolved till this is done. A new philosophy — one that accepts the Fact of God and of Christ as public facts that are good for man — has to prevail in the social mind, if society is properly to flourish. So, not only the individual, but also society must recognise sin and resolve to turn away from it. Society must convert at the level of the collective heart and learn to appeal to God for his grace and his help.

In his daily life in the world, the Christian ought remember that the society around him is called to be in Christ. But if this is ever to happen, both he and the society in which he lives and for which he works must turn away from sin and believe in God. The Church’s message is, turn away from sin, and acknowledge God and his divine Son. Let us bear in mind the words of Ezechiel and apply them to our mission to society: "Son of man, I have appointed you as sentry to the House of Israel" (Ezechiel 33: 7-9). Let us be that sentry, with Christ’s love as our inspiration.

Further Reading: Catechism of the Catholic Church no.886-889 (Conversion and society)

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God wants the works he entrusts to men to go ahead on the basis of prayer and mortification.

Entrance Antiphon Ps 119 (118): 137, 124 You are just, O Lord, and your judgment is right; treat your servant in accord with your merciful love.

Mother Teresa of Calcutta, the tiny woman recognized throughout the world for her work among the poorest of the poor, was beatified October 19, 2003. Among those present were hundreds of Missionaries of Charity, the Order

she founded in 1950 as a diocesan religious community. Today the congregation also includes contemplative sisters and brothers and an order of priests. Born to Albanian parents in what is now Skopje, Macedonia (then part of the Ottoman Empire), Gonxha (Agnes) Bojaxhiu was the youngest of the three children who survived. For a time, the family lived comfortably, and her father's construction business thrived. But life changed overnight following his unexpected death. During her years in public school Agnes participated in a Catholic sodality and showed a strong interest in the foreign missions. At age 18 she entered the Loreto Sisters of Dublin. It was 1928 when she said goodbye to her mother for the final time and made her way to a new land and a new life. The following year she was sent to the Loreto novitiate in Darjeeling, India. There she chose the name Teresa and prepared for a life of service. She was assigned to a high school for girls in Calcutta, where she taught history and geography to the daughters of the wealthy. But she could not escape the realities around her—the poverty, the suffering, the overwhelming numbers of destitute people. Mother Teresa and JPII

In 1946, while riding a train to Darjeeling to make a retreat, Sister Teresa heard what she later explained as “a call within a call. The message was clear. I was to leave the convent and help the poor while living among them.” She also heard a call to give up her life with the Sisters of Loreto and, instead, to “follow Christ into the slums to serve him among the poorest of the poor.” After receiving permission to leave Loreto, and establish a new religious community and undertake her new work, she took a nursing course for several months. She returned to Calcutta, where she lived in the slums and opened a school for poor children. Dressed in a white sari and sandals (the ordinary dress of an Indian woman) she soon began getting to know her neighbours—especially the poor and sick—and getting to know their needs through visits. The work was exhausting, but she was not alone for long. Volunteers who came to join her in the work, some of them former students, became the core of the Missionaries of Charity. Other helped by donating food, clothing, supplies, the use of buildings. In 1952 the city of Calcutta gave Mother Teresa a former hostel, which became a home for the dying and the destitute. As the Order expanded, services were also offered to orphans, abandoned children, alcoholics, the aging and street people. For the next four decades Mother Teresa worked tirelessly on behalf of the poor. Her love knew no bounds. Nor did her energy, as she crisscrossed the globe pleading for support and inviting others to see the face of Jesus in the poorest of the poor. In 1979 she was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. On September 5, 1997, God called her home.

Speaking in a strained, weary voice at the beatification Mass, Pope John Paul II declared her blessed, prompting waves of applause before the 300,000 pilgrims in St. Peter's Square. In his homily, read by an aide for the aging pope, the Holy Father called Mother Teresa “one of the most relevant personalities of our age” and “an icon of the Good Samaritan.” Her life, he said, was “a bold proclamation of the gospel.” Like so many others around the world, he found her love for the Eucharist, for prayer and for the poor a model for all to emulate. (AmericanCatholic.org)

On a certain Sabbath Jesus went into the synagogue and taught, and there was a man there whose right hand was withered. The scribes and the Pharisees watched him closely to see if he would cure on the sabbath so that they might discover a reason to accuse him. But he realized their intentions and said to the man with the withered hand, “Come up and stand before us.” And he rose and stood there. Then Jesus said to them, “I ask you, is it lawful to do good on the sabbath rather than to do evil, to save life rather than to destroy it?” Looking around at them all, he then said to him, “Stretch out your hand.” He did so and his hand was restored. But they became enraged and discussed together what they might do to Jesus. (Luke 6:6-11)

Seeing Jesus There is a detail in our Gospel passage on which we could profitably ponder. Jesus is in the synagogue, teaching. Luke tells us that the “scribes and the Pharisees watched him closely .” All in the synagogue were watching the speaker, but the verb Luke uses of the scribes and Pharisees (paretēntounto) conveys the idea of watching closely, especially with sinister intent — as in, say, looking sideways out of the corner of one’s eye (Plummer). Luke immediately explains: they were watching to see if he would heal on the Sabbath day, and so have a reason to condemn him. They were looking on the Son of God made man with hostility. In his Sermon on the Mount, our Lord said, Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see (opsontai) God (Matthew 5: 8). The scribes and Pharisees were not “clean of heart” and could not “see” Jesus for who he was. They saw in him but a rival. Years before, the three Magi from the East arrived in Jerusalem saying that they had “seen” (eidomen) the star of the new-born King of the Jews. They had come to see and worship him (Matthew 2: 1-3). Herod the Great was troubled, as was all Jerusalem with him. He told the wise men to inform him when they found the infant King at Bethlehem so that he, too, could go and adore him. Herod wanted to see the Child, but only to do away with him. The scribes and Pharisees were watching Jesus, but only to do away with him. So there are different ways in which the Son of God is “seen.” At the beginning of his public ministry, Jesus was “seen” by another person. We read in the Gospel of St John that “the next day John sees (blepei) Jesus coming towards him” (John 1:29) and his attitude is one of profound regard and humble praise. He said, “Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.” John looks on Jesus and sees in him the Redeemer of the world. By contrast, Herod Antipas, hearing of Jesus, said, “John I have beheaded.....And he sought to see (idein) Jesus” (Luke 9:9). He did see Jesus during the Passion. We read that “Herod seeing (idōn) Jesus, greatly rejoiced” (Luke 23:8). But Christ would not speak to him. These people “saw” Jesus, but with profoundly different attitudes.

The goal of life is to see God. Our joy will be to see him forever in heaven, and the most terrible punishment of hell will be to be denied this sight forever. We are made to yearn to see God. But God is Jesus, just as truly as God is the Father and as he is the Holy Spirit. So our life’s goal is to see and be with Jesus. But as the Gospels show, we must yearn to see Jesus with a pure heart, a heart that is striving to love him with our whole being. It is a profanation to look on Jesus as did the scribes and Pharisees, or as did Herod Antipas, the son of Herod the Great who also desired to see Jesus. It is a profanation and a sacrilege. There is yet another instance when the people looked on Jesus. Pilate brought Jesus out and there he stood, crowned with thorns, wearing the purple robe of mockery, and said: “Behold (idou) the man!” The chief priests and attendants looked on him and clamoured for his crucifixion (John 19:5). Again, when he was dying on the cross, Luke tells us that “the people stood beholding (theōrōn). And also the rulers scoffed him” (Luke 23:35). There are all kinds of ways man looks upon God, and God in becoming man allowed himself to be looked upon hostilely, and with sinful intent. We must look on Jesus as did John the Baptist, with profound humility and recognition. We read in the account of the first resurrection appearance of Jesus — to Mary Magdalene — that “she sees (theōrei) Jesus standing, but did not know it was him” (John 20: 14). But her heart was full of love, and Jesus immediately revealed himself to her: “Mary!” he said. Later in the morning, the risen Jesus quietly joined two of the disciples as they walked sorrowfully on their way to the village of Emmaus. Arriving at the village, they went inside, Jesus included. As he sat at table, “their eyes were opened, and they recognized him” (Luke 24:31). They recognized him because of their faith and love. Their sight was true sight. But now, there is a higher sight than physical sight. It is the sight of faith. Thomas saw the risen Jesus and believed. Our Lord said to him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed. Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet believe” (John 20: 29).

All our life we ought be aiming finally to see Jesus. We see him in our hearts by faith, and this contemplation of him in faith must be nourished by daily prayer, spiritual reading, the devout reception of the Sacraments, and a life of faithful Christian living. Our joy will be to see Jesus and to be with him forever in heaven. To see Jesus is to see the living God, for as he said, to see me is to see the Father. No one comes to the Father except through me. If we believe in Jesus, if we hope in him, if we love him, if we obey and serve him, we shall see him by faith in this life, and see him face to face forever in heaven. Wonderful prospect! Joy forever!

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“It makes me happy to suffer for you, as I am suffering now” The most perplexing and perennial of human problems is the problem of suffering. Suffering is so burdensome, and seemingly so pointless. Suffering can prompt a person to be angry with God, to refuse to accept God’s commands, and even to reject the proposition that God exists. In terms of the attainment of happiness, suffering and evil constitute a great problem. Yet St Paul tells the Colossians in the first Reading for today that “it makes me happy to suffer for you, as I am suffering now”. So it is possible to be happy in the midst of suffering. What is it that enables Paul to be happy in the midst of suffering? The critical factor is that Paul sees great meaning in his sufferings: he is suffering for the Church as its “servant”, “to make up all that has still to be undergone by Christ for the sake of his body, the Church.” Suffering is not pointless at all. St Paul shows us that by means of our suffering we are able to unite with Christ in his sufferings for the Church his body. We can "make up all that is still to be undergone by Christ" for the Church. By his grace, Christ unites us in our sufferings to himself and enables our sufferings to serve the purpose of his own sufferings. The person of Christ is everything for the Christian. He is “the message which was a mystery hidden for generations and centuries and has now been revealed to his saints.” That “mystery is Christ among you, your hope of glory.” The proclamation and extension of this message and the hope it contains gives purpose to the sufferings of the Christian: "It is for this", St Paul writes, "that I struggle wearily on, helped only by his power driving me irresistibly."

Let us then suffer as “the servant of the Church,” suffering in Christ “for the sake of his body, the Church”, so that all may become "perfect in Christ."

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The foundation of all we do as citizens — as Catholic citizens — lies in an intense interior life. It lies in being really and truly men and women who turn their day into an uninterrupted conversation with God.

Entrance Antiphon Ps 119 (118): 137, 124 You are just, O Lord, and your judgment is right; treat your servant in accord with your merciful love.

Born in Santa Lucia del Piave near Venice, Claudio was the youngest of nine children and was accustomed to hard work in the fields. At the age of nine he lost his father. Six years later he was drafted into the Italian army, where he served more than three years. His artistic abilities, especially in sculpture, led to studies at Venice’s Academy of Fine Arts, which awarded him a diploma with the highest marks in 1929. Even then he was especially interested in religious art. When Claudio entered the Friars Minor four years later, his parish priest wrote, "The Order is receiving not only an artist but a saint." Prayer, charity to the poor and artistic work characterized his life, which was cut short by a brain tumour. He died on the feast of the Assumption and was beatified in 1994. Claudio developed into such an excellent sculptor that his work still turns people toward God. No stranger to adversity, he met every obstacle courageously, reflecting the generosity, faith and joy that he learned from Francis of Assisi.

In the beatification homily, Pope John Paul II said that Claudio made his sculpture "the privileged instrument" of his apostolate and evangelization. "His holiness was especially radiant in his acceptance of suffering and death in union with Christ’s Cross. Thus by consecrating himself totally to the Lord’s love, he became a model for religious, for artists in their search for God’s beauty and for the sick in his loving devotion to the Crucified" (L’Osservatore Romano, Vol. 47, No. 1, 1994). (AmericanCatholic.org)

esus departed to the mountain to pray, and he spent the night in prayer to God. When day came, he called his disciples to himself, and from them he chose Twelve, whom he also named Apostles: Simon, whom he named Peter, and his brother Andrew, James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, James the son of Alphaeus, Simon who was called a Zealot, and Judas the son of James, and Judas Iscariot, who became a traitor. And he came down with them and stood on a stretch of level ground. A great crowd of his disciples and a large number of the people from all Judea and Jerusalem and the coastal region of Tyre and Sidon came to hear him and to be healed of their diseases; and even those who were tormented by unclean spirits were cured. Everyone in the crowd sought to touch him because power came forth from him and healed them all. (Luke 6:12-19)

The Twelve It is plain from the Gospels that our Lord was steeped in the Scriptures. Humanly he thought, reasoned and taught with the inspired Writings in mind. He saw his own mission outlined in them, together with its crown and upshot, which was his Passion, Death, Resurrection and the sending of the Spirit. Every devout Jew looked back to Abraham as their father in the Faith, and to Isaac and Jacob. The original revelation was granted to them, and when God appeared to Moses in the Burning Bush he identified Fr. Ted Tyler

himself as the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Though the promise had been made to Abraham that through him all the nations of the earth would be blessed, in the time of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, their God was the God of a single family — their family. Abraham had a son by his wife Sarah, Isaac. He had a second son, Ishmael by the handmaiden Hagar, but Isaac was the child of promise, not Ishmael. The “Faith,” as we might call it, passed from Abraham to Isaac. By his wife Rebekah, Isaac had twin sons, Esau and Jacob. Again, Jacob (or Israel) was the child of promise and the “Faith” passed to him. To this point, the revealed religion was the religion of a specially chosen family, passed from father to a single son — but with Jacob (or Israel) the situation began to change. Jacob (Israel) had twelve sons, and with that a nation began — a people whom the Scriptures call “the children of Israel.” They were the twelve tribes of the Twelve Patriarchs, the twelve sons of Israel. Each Patriarch had received a mission (Genesis 49). Each handed on the revelation given to Abraham, which would bring blessings to all the earth. They were chosen in a new way at Sinai when Moses met God and a new covenant with the twelve tribes was established. According to the Book of Exodus, Moses himself was a member of the tribe of Levi. The point here is that at the core of the self-identity of the chosen people, was the fact that the original promise of a blessing to all the nations was borne along in history by the twelve tribes of Israel, children of the Twelve Patriarchs, all sons of Abraham.

So it is that Christ takes the special step, surely full of biblical significance, of choosing Twelve new Patriarchs who will be the bearer of a new revelation fulfilling the old. The new revelation will fulfill the ancient prediction of a blessing brought to all the nations (Genesis 12:3). The essential features are discipleship and mission. Our Lord selects twelve from among his disciples, and their calling is to be his companions and to share in his mission — a mission that evokes the ancient promise of a blessing for all the nations. Significantly, he calls them “Apostles.” The word, then, comes from the lips of Jesus Christ himself. They are to be his envoys, his ambassadors, his representatives. A new people, arising out of and including the old, is to begin and it will be the fruit of a new covenant — the definitive and eternal covenant sealed in his blood. We ought ponder carefully on the choice of the Twelve Apostles. Especially notable is their title. They are to be essentially ambassadors of Jesus Christ, acting in his name, and on the move bringing the news of him to the world. Christ would tell them that all authority in heaven and on earth was given to him. They were therefore to go to the whole world and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them and teaching them all he had commanded. He, then, was the founder of this people, the builder of this Church. Its Patriarchs were the Twelve. Their mission was to bring him, Jesus Christ, to both the “lost sheep of the House of Israel,” and to the world. There had been the “church” of the Twelve Patriarchs, the children of Israel, and now there was to be a new “Church” fulfilling the old, and Jesus Christ would be its builder. The man at the head of the Twelve would be its Rock, the visible Rock on which the new people, the new “House” would be built. To him would be given the keys of the kingdom of heaven. The whole world has the calling, all the nations have the invitation, to become disciples and to be baptized — and thus enter the Church. By entering the Church, one gains access to the Kingdom, for Peter has the keys. It is especially when we situate our Gospel passage (Luke 6:12-19) in the context of the Book of Genesis that we see that it marks the beginning of a new phase in salvation history.

The Twelve whom our Lord chose were fairly ordinary persons, it seems, and certainly they would have been otherwise unknown to history. In fact, the Church is overwhelmingly made up of ordinary persons but each shares in the mission of the Twelve — each in his own way. That is to say, we share in the calling to be whole-hearted disciples of Jesus Christ, and in that calling, to do what we can to bring the knowledge and love of him to the world around us in our everyday lives. Let us resolve to do this then, and to our maximum capacity.

“You must live your whole life according to the Christ you have received” I remember when I was a child the boy next door Fr. Ted Tyler

said to me that “Catholics are mad!” By this he meant that anyone following the Catholic faith is foolish. Thinking back on that family (they were very good neighbours) I suspect that that boy then, and since, had very little religious faith. But that does not mean that they did not have a faith of some kind, some system or range of values they believed in. The fact is that most people have faith in something or other, even though many do not appear to have much religious faith. I have met elderly persons who believe that beyond death there will be nothing. But usually such persons do have some things they live for, even if only temporal and passing. The tragedy in all this is that the God-given human tendency to believe is bestowed on what is virtually nothing. St Paul tells the Colossians that their whole life, their entire existence, must be lived “according to the Christ you have received” from the Church as embodied in those who delivered the message to them. They “must be rooted in him and built on him and held firm in the faith you have been taught.” The fact is that one’s commitment to the Catholic Faith as taught by the Church our Mother can be eroded and replaced by worldly and purely human thinking. St Paul makes this point when he writes , “Make sure that no one traps you and deprives you of your freedom by some empty, rational philosophy based on the principles of this world instead of on Christ.”

The Catholic bases his life on faith in Christ as he is preached and taught by the Church. Let this be our constant foundation, and let us be ever alert lest the foundation be eroded.

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When you are with someone, you have to see a soul: a soul who has to be helped, who has to be understood, with whom you have to live in harmony, and who has to be saved.

Entrance Antiphon Ps 119 (118): 137, 124 You are just, O Lord, and your judgment is right; treat your servant in accord with your merciful love.

A man convinced of the inestimable worth of each human being, Frederick served the poor of Paris well and drew others into serving the poor of the world. Through the St. Vincent de Paul Society, his work continues to the present day. Frederick was the fifth of Jean and Marie Ozanam’s 14 children, one of only three to reach adulthood. As a teenager he began having doubts about his religion. Frederic Ozanam Medallion

Reading and prayer did not seem to help, but long walking discussions with Father Noirot of the Lyons College clarified matters a great deal. Frederick wanted to study literature, although his father, a doctor, wanted him to become a lawyer. Frederick yielded to his father’s wishes and in 1831 arrived in Paris to study law at the University of the Sorbonne. When certain professors there mocked Catholic teachings in their lectures, Frederick defended the Church. A discussion club which Frederick organized sparked the turning point in his life. In this club Catholics, atheists and agnostics debated the issues of the day. Once, after Frederick spoke on Christianity’s role in civilization, a club member said: "Let us be frank, Mr. Ozanam; let us also be very particular. What do you do besides talk to prove the faith you claim is in you?" Frederick was stung by the question. He soon decided that his words needed a grounding in action. He and a friend began visiting Paris tenements and offering Frederic Ozanam

assistance as best they could. Soon a group dedicated to helping individuals in need under the patronage of St. Vincent de Paul formed around Frederick. Feeling that the Catholic faith needed an excellent speaker to explain its teachings, Frederick convinced the Archbishop of Paris to appoint Father Lacordaire, the greatest preacher then in France, to preach a Lenten series in Notre Dame Cathedral. It was well attended and became an annual tradition in Paris. After Frederick earned his law degree at the Sorbonne, he taught law at the University of Lyons. He also earned a doctorate in literature. Soon after marrying Amelie Soulacroix on June 23, 1841, he returned to the Sorbonne to teach literature. A well-respected lecturer, Frederick worked to bring out the best in each student. Meanwhile, the St. Vincent de Paul Society was growing throughout Europe. Paris alone counted 25 conferences. In 1846, Frederick, Amelie and their daughter Marie went to Italy; there Frederick hoped to restore his poor health. They returned the next year. The revolution of 1848 left many Parisians in need of the services of the St. Vincent de Paul conferences. The unemployed numbered 275,000. The government asked Frederick and his co-workers to supervise the government aid to the poor. Vincentians throughout Europe came to the aid of Paris. Frederick then started a newspaper, The New Era, dedicated to securing justice for the poor and the working classes. Fellow Catholics were often unhappy with what Frederick wrote. Referring to the poor man as "the nation’s priest," Frederick said that the hunger and sweat of the poor formed a sacrifice that could redeem the people’s humanity. In 1852 poor health again forced Frederick to return to Italy with his wife and daughter. He died on September 8, 1853. In his sermon at Frederick’s funeral, Lacordaire described his friend as "one of those privileged creatures who came direct from the hand of God in whom God joins tenderness to genius in order to enkindle the world." Frederick was beatified in 1997. Since Frederick wrote an excellent book entitled Franciscan Poets of the Thirteenth Century and since Frederick’s sense of the dignity of each poor person was so close to the thinking of St. Francis, it seemed appropriate to include him among Franciscan "greats." Professor Bailly, the spiritual leader of the first St. Vincent de Paul conference, told Frederick and his first companions in charity, "Like St. Vincent, you, too, will find the poor will do more for you than you will do for them." (AmericanCatholic.org)

Looking at his disciples, Jesus said: Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. Blessed are you when men hate you, when they exclude you and insult you and reject your name as evil, because of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, because great is your reward in heaven. For that is how their fathers treated the prophets. But woe to you who are rich, for you have already received your comfort. Woe to you who are well fed now, for you will go hungry. Woe to you who laugh now, for you will mourn and weep. Woe to you when all men speak well of you, for that is how their fathers treated the false prophets. (Luke 6: 20-26)

The Beatitudes We take for granted the ways Jesus Christ presented his teachings — the most notable way being that of the parable. In the Gospels, there are scarcely many examples of abstract teachings that might be said to parallel the typical abstract approach of, say, Greek philosophy. Rather, in his speech and instruction, Christ used concrete imagery drawn from everyday life. In his mode of human thinking, he appears to gravitate towards likenesses and analogies. Superb in debate against all opponents, he had a profoundly rich imagination. For instance, he saw a likeness between the finery of the lilies of the field and that of Solomon in all his glory. Importantly, he composed lots of brief stories — the parables. There are people with this gift. I had an aunt who had a wonderful facility for narrating stories. She rarely wrote, as far as I am aware — though I had heard that as a teenager she could write very well. She had a great facility for recounting events of her life, people she knew and incidents she had heard of. She had a vivid imagination and an excellent memory, and she was able to express this store well in the spoken word. In fact, she could tell the same story over and over again at different periods, with the same audience, and still evoke the same delighted response. She scarcely ever told stories of her own composition — they were all narrations of past events. I had a grandfather who, when I was a child, would tell us lots of stories. They were not events but his own creations. He told stories of his own devising. Both these people could tell a story. Christ, it would seem, excelled in the composition and telling of very short stories. His medium was not writing — as did certain other prophets, he left the writing to his disciples. His medium was the spoken word both to disciples and to the multitudes. Many of his stories told to the crowds he left unexplained, giving the explanation to his disciples in private. He also composed maxims, and, as well as this, often gave lengthy instruction without the use of stories. An example of this latter is his instruction on the Eucharist in the Synagogue of Capernaum (John 6: 25-65). Another genre of his teaching was rather like, I would suggest, poetry. The Beatitudes (of our Gospel today) are an instance of this.

The “Beatitudes” are two texts of the Gospels — that of Matthew and Luke — which involve brief statements or maxims beginning with makarioi, which the Latin translates as “beati.” The makarioi are the “blessed” or “happy” ones. They are, in Latin, the beati, who enjoy happiness (Latin: beatitudo). That is to say, in these two separate texts (Matthew 5: 3-11 and Luke 6: 20-26) we have Christ’s statements, cast in different forms, on those who possess true beatitude (beatitudo). So it is that these two texts traditionally have had the title of “the Beatitudes.” Matthew provides us with eight such statements by Christ on being truly blessed, whereas Luke gives us four, with four opposite woes. One of the most striking features of Biblical poetry as instanced in, say, the psalms, is a parallelism of thought and expression. There is a similar rhythmic parallelism of expression in the Beatitudes. Christ’s human mind and imagination appears as Semitic, of a character similar to that from which had come the psalms. If we may say so without irreverence, had Christ the occasion for expressing his teaching in the genre of something like poetry, the production would have been unforgettable — as are the Beatitudes. In respect to the two texts, I regard the two different forms of the Beatitudes in Matthew and Luke as having both come from the lips of Jesus. They are simply his teaching uttered in different circumstances. Further, they are in profound continuity with the Scriptures before him. For instance, our passage today is from the Gospel of St Luke (Luke 6: 20-26). Early in Luke’s account of Christ’s public ministry, our Lord returns to his town of Nazareth (4:16). There he went into the Synagogue on the Sabbath Day and, opening the scroll of the prophet Isaiah (4:17), quotes from Isaiah 61:1-2: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me... to comfort all those who mourn.” Christ proclaims that he is the fulfilment of this prediction. Now, there is a likeness between the Beatitudes in Luke (6:20-26) and this very text of Isaiah 61:1-3, which was used at Nazareth (4: 18). The lowly, the brokenhearted, the captives (Isaiah 61:1) and all who mourn (Isaiah 61:2-3), will be blessed (Isaiah 61:9). Isaiah 61, used at Nazareth, is recast later in the Beatitudes, as presented in the same Gospel of St Luke (Luke 6:20). Christ, addressing his disciples, is himself the Blessing, and those who receive the Blessing are the poor of this world.

Let us take the Beatitudes of our Gospel today most seriously and engrave them on our hearts. The general message is clear. Let us prefer to be poor in what this world prizes highly and rich in what God wishes to give. He wants to give us himself in the person of his only-begotten Son made man. That, in the plan of God, is what makes man blessed. We are poor. Let us recognize and embrace the fact. We can be rich, but we must make sure it is a godly richness, a richness that comes from God. We shall be such if we receive the grand Gift of God which is Jesus Christ in whom is every heavenly blessing. Let us make him our life, then!

“Let your thoughts be on heavenly things, not on the things of earth” In the mind of the world, religion is generally regarded as irrelevant and in any case somewhat unreal. The “real” things are those things of this world only. For the last few centuries, philosophical thought has viewed with scepticism the very reality of the supernatural — despite the voice of mankind as represented in the religions of man. Well, St Paul has remarks in our first Reading today that confront this very modern and Western tendency to dismiss the supernatural. He tells the Colossians that they “have been brought back to true life with Christ”, as if without him life is not real and true. Having been brought to this true life that is life in Christ, they “must look for the things that are in heaven, where Christ is, sitting at God’s right hand.” The Christian must seek those things that Christ wishes him to seek. In this way his thoughts will be heavenly, though he be grappling with the realities of this world.

Christ, St Paul tells the Colossians, “is your life,” and “you too will be revealed in all your glory with him.” This will be the true life, and that life begins now. Let us then put on the mind of Christ, and cast away from us everything “that makes God angry.”

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You insist on trying to walk on your own, doing you own will, guided solely by your own judgment. And you can see for yourself that the fruit of this is fruitlessness. My child, if you don’t give up your own judgment, if you are proud, if you devote yourself to “your” apostolate, you will work all night — your whole life will be one long night — and at the end of it, all the dawn will find you with your nets empty.

Entrance Antiphon Let us celebrate with joy the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, for from her arose the sun of justice, Christ our God.

Collect Impart to your servants, we pray, O Lord, the gift of heavenly grace, that the feast of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin may bring deeper peace to those for whom the birth of her Son was the dawning of salvation. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

The Church has celebrated Mary's birth since at least the sixth century. A September birth was chosen because the Eastern Church begins its Church year with September. The September 8 date helped determine the date for the feast of the Immaculate Conception on December 8 (nine months earlier). Scripture does not give an account of Mary's birth. However, the apocryphal Protoevangelium of James fills in the gap. This work has no historical value, but it does reflect the development of Christian piety. According to this account, Anna and Joachim are infertile but pray for a child. They receive the promise of a child that will advance God's plan of salvation for the world. Such a story (like many biblical counterparts) stresses the special presence of God in Mary's life from the beginning. St. Augustine connects Mary's birth with Jesus' saving work. He tells the earth to rejoice and shine forth in the light of her birth. "She is the flower of the field from whom bloomed the precious lily of the valley. Through her birth the nature inherited from our first parents is changed." The opening prayer at Mass speaks of the birth of Mary's Son as the dawn of our salvation and asks for an increase of peace.

"Today the barren Anna claps her hands for joy, the earth radiates with light, kings sing their happiness, priests enjoy every blessing, the entire universe rejoices, for she who is queen and the Father's immaculate bride buds forth from the stem of Jesse" (adapted from Byzantine Daily Worship). (AmericanCatholic.org)

Scripture today: Micah 5:1-4 or Romans 8:28-30; Psalm 12; Matthew 1:1-16.18-23

This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit. Because Joseph her husband was a righteous man and did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly. But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and 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. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins. All this took place to fulfil what the Lord had said through the prophet: The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel— which means, God with us. (Matthew 1: 18-23)

Mary One of the very notable things about the greatness of the biblical figure of the mother of Jesus Christ is that it is possible, for various reasons, to miss it. St Matthew presents Mary as being the one of whom “Jesus who is called the Messiah was born” (1:16). She conceived him by the power of “the Holy Spirit” (1:20). Her glory is to have been the mother of the Saviour. In the Gospel of St Luke, the Angel Gabriel addresses her as most highly favoured by God, full of God’s grace, as one with whom the Lord abides (1:28-30). She is “the servant of the Lord” and obeys him perfectly (1:38). God is her Saviour and he has looked upon her in Fr. Ted Tyler

her lowliness. Her whole being proclaims God’s greatness, and the ages to come will call her blessed (1: 46-49). Apart from Jesus Christ (of course), it is the figure of Mary which Luke dwells on more than any other. He also includes her in his account of the infant Church (Acts 1:14). In the Gospel of St John we have two precious glimpses of the presence and person of Mary. There is the wedding feast of Cana when, at her intercession, Christ revealed his glory with the first of his “signs” (John 2:1-11). We see there the power of her intercession for us as Mother of the Lord. We see her for a second time at the foot of the Cross at Calvary, marking the end. There she becomes the mother of the beloved disciple, which the Church has always seen as her investiture as mother of the Church, all of Christ’s faithful. Apart from the very nature of the case — her being the grace-filled mother of the Saviour — the very space given to Mary in the Gospels ought be reason for reverent pause. At the very least, she is manifestly a most significant figure in the Gospel accounts. But as I said earlier, this can be missed. As a matter of fact, large numbers of Christians not in communion with the See of Rome have missed it. Many Catholics have missed it too, despite the Church’s formal teaching and guidance. This is another instance of how we depend on the life and guidance of the Church for a full appreciation of the richness of divine revelation. Were it not for the Church which was built by Christ on the Rock that is Peter, the person of Mary could have been lost from sight, despite the abundant testimony to her, in principle and in fact, in the Gospels themselves.

The veneration of Mary grew out of the Church’s adoration of her divine Son. Indirect testimonies of a cult to her during the first few centuries are extant. For instance, one of the paintings in the catacombs of St Priscilla shows the Virgin Mary with her divine Child, and what is probably a prophet by her side. This is a very authentic representation, because Mary would have been steeped in the prophets, and the prophet Isaiah foretold the virgin with her child (Isaiah 7:14). In the catacombs of St Peter and St Marcellinus, one painting shows Mary between Saints Peter and Paul — Mary is represented praying with arms outstretched. She, then, intercedes for the Church. It seems that Mary was honoured together with our Lord in the Church of the Nativity in Palestine since the era of Emperor Constantine. Mary was alway situated within the context of honour and adoration accorded to Jesus Christ — she is his mother. St. Justin (died about 167 AD) insists on Mary’s motherhood of Jesus, virginally conceived of her. Justin bases his reflections on Mary on the parallel between Mary and Jesus on the one hand, and Eve and Adam in Genesis 3:15 on the other. This parallel served as the basis of the Marian reflections of the later Fathers of the Church, following Justin. It was also, incidentally, the preferred approach to Mary of John Henry Newman in his Letter Addressed to the Rev. E. B. Pusey, D.D., on the occasion of His Eirenicon (1865). In the middle of the third century, Origen applied the title of Mother of God to Mary. The prayer, “We fly to your patronage” (Sub tuum praesiduum), containing this wondrous title, dates from this period. So it was that, in order to insist on the divinity of Christ, the doctrine that Mary is the mother of God was proclaimed as a Christian dogma by the Council of Ephesus in 431 A.D. Perhaps the most common prayer to Mary, commented on in the Church’s catechisms, is the “Hail Mary.” It begins with the invocations of Mary as they appear in the Gospels: “Hail Mary! Full of grace, the Lord is with you, blessed are you among women and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus.” Then the prayer addresses her as Mother of God and asks for her intercession. “Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners”.

But all this can be missed. It is one of the most curious phenomena in Christian history, that those who profess to be lovers, servants and followers of Jesus Christ can miss the place of Mary his mother in revealed religion. As a matter of fact, they can be opposed to the veneration of Mary, regarding it as essentially a distraction from Jesus Christ and opposed to the pure doctrine on him. Let us bear in mind the magnificent testimony of the Gospels, especially, perhaps, the account by John of Christ’s dying gift of his blessed mother: “Son, behold your mother!” Let us accept that gift, for Mary is the Help of Christians in their love for and following of her Son.

“I say this to you who are listening: love your enemies, do good to those who hate you” There are many things that Fr. Ted Tyler

characterise the authentically religious man. Such a person is sincere, and he acts in a way that accords with the dictates of his conscience. He also places God at the centre of his concerns. But there is one feature that especially characterises the mind and conscience of the Christian. That feature is love for the man who causes him injury. It is very notable because it appears to be quite beyond the capacity of nature and a purely natural virtue. Yet Christ lays it down as his personal command in his well-known words: “I say this to you who are listening: love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who treat you badly.” Our Lord is asking his disciples to go beyond the norm: “If you love those who love you, what thanks can you expect? Even sinners love those who love them.” He asks his disciples to imitate their Father in heaven, “for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. Be compassionate as your Father is compassionate.” Of course, this involves one’s image and notion of God. Our Lord revealed in his own Person a God who is compassionate.

Our life’s work is to love as Jesus loved us, and for this we need the grace won for us by him. It is beyond our natural capacity to love as Jesus loved — that is to say, to love our enemies. However, if by the grace of God it is practised, nature will be wonderfully fulfilled by such a life: “a full measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over, will be poured into your lap.” Today is the feast of the birth of the Blessed Virgin Mary. She is our mother and our model in all that pertains to the Christian life, most especially the life of Christian love. Let us think of how, standing at the foot of the cross at Calvary, she loved those who injured her Son, forgave them utterly, and joined with her Son in interceding for the redemption of the world.

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To think of Christ’s Death means to be invited to face up to our everyday tasks with complete sincerity, and to take the faith that we profess seriously. It has to be an opportunity to go deeper into the depths of God’s Love, so as to be able to show that Love to men with our Words and deeds.

Entrance Antiphon Ps 119 (118): 137, 124 You are just, O Lord, and your judgment is right; treat your servant in accord with your merciful love.

A native of Spain, young Jesuit Peter Claver left his homeland forever in 1610 to be a missionary in the colonies of the New World. He sailed into Cartagena (now in Colombia), a rich port city washed by the Caribbean. He was ordained there in 1615. By this time St Peter Claver

the slave trade had been established in the Americas for nearly 100 years, and Cartagena was a chief centre for it. Ten thousand slaves poured into the port each year after crossing the Atlantic from West Africa under conditions so foul and inhuman that an estimated one-third of the passengers died in transit. Although the practice of slave-trading was condemned by Pope Paul III and later labelled "supreme villainy" by Pius IX, it continued to flourish. Peter Claver's predecessor, Jesuit Father Alfonso de Sandoval, had devoted himself to the service of the slaves for 40 years before Claver arrived to continue his work, declaring himself "the slave of the Negroes forever." As soon as a slave ship entered the port, Peter Claver moved into its infested hold to minister to the ill-treated and exhausted passengers. After the slaves were herded out of the ship like chained animals and shut up in nearby yards to be gazed at by the crowds, Claver plunged in among them with medicines, food, bread, brandy, lemons and tobacco. With the help of interpreters he gave basic instructions and assured his brothers and sisters of their human dignity and God's saving love. During the 40 years of his ministry, Claver instructed and baptized an estimated 300,000 slaves. His apostolate extended beyond his care for slaves. He became a moral force, indeed, the apostle of Cartagena. He preached in the city square, gave missions to sailors and traders as well as country missions, during which he avoided, when possible, the hospitality of the planters and owners and lodged in the slave quarters instead. After four years of sickness which forced the saint to remain inactive and largely neglected, he died on September 8, 1654. The city magistrates, who had previously frowned at his solicitude for the black outcasts, ordered that he should be buried at public expense and with great pomp. He was canonized in 1888, and Pope Leo XIII declared him the worldwide patron of missionary work among black slaves.

Peter Claver understood that concrete service like the distributing of medicine, food or brandy to his black brothers and sisters could be as effective a communication of the word of God as mere verbal preaching. As Peter Claver often said, "We must speak to them with our hands before we try to speak to them with our lips." (AmericanCatholic.org)

Jesus also told the people this parable: Can a blind man lead a blind man? Will they not both fall into a pit? A student is not above his teacher, but everyone who is fully trained will be like his teacher. Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, 'Brother, let me take the speck out of your eye,' when you yourself fail to see the plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye. (Luke 6:39-42)

Sight and blindness Some have described the speech of Martin Luther (1483 – 1546) at the Diet of Worms in April of 1521 as the birth of the modern world. Luther defended his written attacks on orthodox Catholic doctrines and denied the right of the See of Rome to determine what is right and wrong in matters of faith. A source sympathetic to Luther’s cause narrates his speech this way. Addressing the Emperor, he said, “I am bound by the Scriptures I have quoted. My conscience is captive to the Word of God. I cannot and I will not retract anything, because it is neither safe nor right to go against conscience.” Let us note Luther’s appeal to his “conscience” as an inviolable authority. The papal nuncio at the scene, Jerome Aleander (1480-1542), recorded a final exchange between John von der Ecken, the principal interrogator, and Luther, the accused. When Luther had given his answer and all were about to depart, Ecken called out, “Lay aside your conscience, Martin; you must lay it aside because it is in error, and it will be safe and proper for you to recant. Although you say the councils have erred you will never be able to prove it...” Notice the radical variance between Ecken and Luther in their understandings of the conscience. Luther said it was not safe to go against his conscience. Ecken said he must lay it aside, and that, on the contrary, it was the safe thing to do because it was erroneous. This is not the moment to discuss each understanding of the conscience, except to note that on Ecken’s Catholic side the issue was not Luther’s sincerity. He did not presume to judge or condemn Luther’s motives. Ecken’s point was that Martin’s “conscience” was erroneous, and yet that he was still able to apprehend his duty to the objective truth. We could go back and forth considering and debating the matter of the rights of the conscience, but my point is simply to introduce the issue of sight and blindness. Luther maintained that he saw. Ecken was convinced that he did not — and yet that he was able to see if he chose, and had a duty to see. In a sense, the whole of human life and all of society turns on the question of whether we see or whether we are blind.

In our Gospel today our Lord speaks of blindness: “Can a blind man lead a blind man? Will they not both fall into a pit?” In the Gospel of St Matthew, our Lord speaks of the blindness of a number of the Pharisees who had taken offense at his rejection of the notion that what is eaten can defile a person: “Let them alone,” our Lord told his disciples. “They are blind guides of the blind. And if one blind person guides another, both will fall into a pit” (Matthew 15:13). In our passage today our Lord speaks of one source of blindness: an unwarranted and unauthorized judgment on the spiritual state of another. “Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive and you will be forgiven,” our Lord had said a little earlier (Matthew 6:37). In our passage, our Lord speaks of the person with a “log” in his own eye who presumes to see the splinter in his brother’s eye. “How can you say to your brother, 'Brother, let me take the speck out of your eye,' when you yourself fail to see the plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye” (Luke 6:39-42). Such a person is a hypocrite, and is blind. So, he cannot see, and yet he is, to a point, responsible for his blindness. We remember how, hanging on the cross, our Lord prayed to his heavenly Father that he forgive them “for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23: 34). That is not to say that their “ignorance” was not to a point culpable, but our Lord’s example illustrates one source, as emphasized in our Gospel text today, of both sight and blindness. The terrible thing about a sinful “blindness” is that it can mean that a person does not see the way out of it. He is responsible for it, and he has a duty to get out of it into the light. Sin takes one towards the darkness, and the point is illustrated, perhaps, in St John’s remark about Judas Iscariot who “immediately went out. And it was night” (John 13:30). Judas chose to betray Christ, and entered the darkness of his own choosing. It is a terrible thought. He had abandoned the Light of the world, and preferred darkness to light.

Every life turns on the issue of light and darkness, on being able to see or being blind. The world turns on this too. The one who is in the darkness thinks he sees. It is a momentous issue — for Satan thinks he sees, but he is engulfed in darkness. There is a great Light that has appeared in the world, and the one who follows him is in the light, while the one who refuses him is in the darkness. He does not see, even though his “conscience” may tell him that he does. Let us seek Christ where he is to be found, which is to say in the Church which he has “built” (Matthew 16:18). Let us never depart from him, but follow faithfully in his footsteps to the very end.

“I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who has given me strength” A couple of years ago a priest whom I knew well died in another country. I heard that before he died he expressed gratitude to God for the gift of life. Included in his gratitude for life would have been his gratitude for baptism and the gift of faith, together with the gift of a share in the Catholic priesthood. He was grateful. There is so much that we take for granted, and are not grateful for. We remember our Lord’s words when only one of the ten lepers returned to give thanks for healing: “The other nine, where are they?” God expects us to be grateful. St Paul in the first reading gives thanks to “Christ Jesus our Lord, who has given me strength, and who judged me faithful enough to call me into his service”. He acknowledges that “mercy was shown me.” He is grateful. We should be grateful. We might never have even existed. None of us needed to be. Granted we have the gift of life, we need not have been granted the gift of the Christian and Catholic faith. We might never have been placed “in Christ.” All that we have is pure gift. As St Paul says in another of his Letters, before the world began, God chose us, chose us in Christ to be holy and full of love in his sight. We have every reason to be profoundly grateful.

Let us dwell constantly on the immense benefits we have been granted, and thank and praise God accordingly. Let us banish bitterness from our hearts and be filled with a holy gratitude for God’s mercy.

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Make sure that your lips, the lips of a Christian — for that is what you are and should be at all times — speak those compelling supernatural words which will move and encourage, and will show your committed attitude to life.

Entrance Antiphon Ps 119 (118): 137, 124 You are just, O Lord, and your judgment is right; treat your servant in accord with your merciful love.

Saint Thomas, the glory of the Spanish Church in the sixteenth century, was born in the diocese of Toledo in 1488. His mother was a Christian of extraordinary tenderness for the poor. God worked a miracle for her one day, when her servants had given away absolutely all the flour in their storeroom. When another beggar came to the door, she told them to go back once more and look again, St Thomas Of Vilanova

and they found the storeroom filled with flour. Her little son followed his mother’s example, and one day gave away, to six poor persons in succession, the six young chicks which had been following the hen around in the yard. When his mother asked where they were, he said, "You didn’t leave any bread in the house, Mama, so I gave them the chicks! I would have given the hen if another beggar had come." At the age of fifteen years he began his studies and succeeded so well he was judged fit to teach philosophy and theology in a college of Alcala, and then at Salamanca. When his father died he returned to Villanova to dispose of his patrimony. He made his house into a hospital, keeping only what was needed for his mother, and gave the rest to the poor. At the age of twenty-eight he entered the Order of the Hermits of Saint Augustine at Salamanca, becoming professed in 1517. When ordained a priest three years later, he continued his teaching of theology, but also began to preach so remarkably well that he was compared with Saint Paul and the prophet Elias. The city was reformed, and after the Emperor Charles V heard him once, he returned and often mingled with the crowd to listen, finally making Saint Thomas his official preacher. He became Prior of his Order in three cities, then three times a Provincial Superior. His sanctity continued to increase, and he was nominated archbishop of St Thomas Of Villanova

Valencia in 1544; he had refused a similar offer sixteen years earlier, but this time was obliged to accept. After a long drought, rain fell on the day he assumed his new office. He arrived as a pilgrim accompanied by one fellow monk, and was not recognized in the convent of his Order when the two travellers came asking for shelter during the rain. He was obliged to reveal his identity when the Prior, who wondered where the awaited archbishop might be, asked him if perchance it was he. The new Archbishop was so poor that he was given money for furnishings, but he took it to the hospital for the indigent. On being led to his throne in church, he pushed the silken cushions aside, and with tears kissed the ground. His first visit was to the prison. Two-thirds of his episcopal revenues were annually spent in alms. He daily fed five hundred needy persons, made himself responsible for the bringing up of the city’s orphans, and sheltered neglected foundlings with a mother’s care. During his eleven years’ episcopate, not one poor maiden was married without an alms from the archbishop. Spurred by his example, the rich and the selfish became liberal and generous. And when, on the Nativity of Our Lady, 1555, after one week of illness, Saint Thomas was about to breathe his last, he gave his bed to a poor man and asked to be placed on the floor. It has been said that at his death he was probably the only poor man in his see.

When a refractory priest had not heeded his bishop’s remonstrances, Saint Thomas took him into a room apart, uncovered his shoulders and knelt before his crucifix, saying: "My brother, my sins are the reason you have not changed your life and listened to my warnings. It is just for me to bear the penalty of my fault." And he scourged himself cruelly. This frequent practice brought many to tears and reform of their lives. In this way a perfect Pastor inspired his entire flock with truly Christian sentiments. He was canonized in 1658. (Source: Les Petits Bollandistes: Vies des Saints, by Msgr. Paul Guérin)

Jesus said, No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit. Each tree is recognised by its own fruit. People do not pick figs from thorn-bushes, or grapes from briers. The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and the evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For out of the overflow of his heart his mouth speaks. Why do you call me, 'Lord, Lord,' and do not do what I say? I will show you what he is like who comes to me and hears my words and puts them into practice. He is like a man building a house, who dug down deep and laid the foundation on rock. When the flood came, the torrent struck that house but could not shake it, because it was well built. But the one who hears my words and does not put them into practice is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. The moment the torrent struck that house, it collapsed and its destruction was complete. (Luke 6: 43-49)

The good tree “The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart.” The pre-eminent exemplar of this is Jesus Christ, but there are many lesser examples of it. In August (of 2011) there was shown on Sydney television a program portraying the exploits of a couple of Navy servicemen who died in the Second World War, and who were being considered for a posthumous award of the Victoria Cross for outstanding bravery. One was an ordinary sailor who chose to remain on his sinking ship in order to man an Fr. Ted Tyler

anti-aircraft gun and defend from the ship his companions who had, on orders, abandoned ship. From the sinking ship he kept firing at the Japanese aircraft, which, after having bombed the ship, were now attacking from the air the survivors who were clinging to flotsam in the sea. That lone sailor managed to bring down a few of the enemy aircraft as he himself sank with the ship. It was his own choice to remain on the doomed craft, and he did so because he saw that his numerous companions who, now in the water ahead of him, were being subjected to merciless fire from the air. The point was made by commentators that it was high heroism to take the step of remaining on board to operate the gun, when it plainly meant certain death. Right then his ship was going down. What did the sailor have in him that led him, enabled him, to do such a thing? Let us not try to answer such a question here — rather, let us be reminded of our Lord’s words in today’s Gospel. “No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit. Each tree is recognised by its own fruit. People do not pick figs from thorn-bushes, or grapes from briers. The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart” (Luke 6: 43-49). Another example: during the same war, away in a concentration camp in Germany, the camp authorities selected certain prisoners to be shot in reprisal for others having escaped. One who was selected collapsed in fear. Out of the ranks behind him stepped forward another who voluntarily took his place. He was a Catholic priest — Saint Maximilian Kolbe. He died heroically, taking a step for the sake of another which he knew meant certain death. He was another instance of a tree bearing good fruit.

But the greatest instance of all this was Jesus Christ. Consider him. There was nothing good that Jesus Christ could not do. His powers over nature, over the underworld, and his power over heaven itself, had no limit. At a word he could remove any physical affliction, subdue the raging sea, feed the multitudes, raise the dead, strike terror in the demons, reduce his opponents to silence — he could do anything, provided it was not evil. Had he chosen, the world would have been at his feet, as we might say. A strong inkling of this is given at the beginning of the Gospel when there is a meeting between him and Satan. Satan offers him the world, if he would but worship him. Now, Satan would not offer the world to someone who did not have it in him to be master of the world. Satan could see that in this man there was someone who had never had, nor would he ever have, an equal. He certainly could master the world — and if he, Satan, could get his allegiance, he would throw his demonic weight behind such a man’s ambitions. All this, the kingdoms of the world, will I give you, he said to Jesus, if you will but worship me. Christ could do anything, and if he had had a mind for it, he could have had anything for the asking. Here we have a man with the utmost natural power who was possessed of the highest holiness. As his disciples said of him, and as the demons said of him, he was the holy one of God. The holy one of God! What did he do with his power, in the final analysis? How did he choose to exercise it in the supreme moment? That sailor, that priest — how did they choose to exercise their freedom in the supreme moment? By laying down their lives for their companions. Jesus Christ saw the world — for the world was his, and he had come to his own — and saw its plight. It was sunk in sin and death — the wages of sin being death. He took the world’s sin on his own shoulders and expiated for it all by his sufferings and death. His sufferings were embraced by him in order to take away the sin of the world. We ought measure his sufferings not primarily by imagining the extent of suffering involved in a crucifixion, but by trying to imagine the weight of the sin of the world. It is unimaginable and incalculable. This is how our Lord used his great power.

The point, though, which I would like to make is that the archetype of the good tree bearing good fruit is Jesus Christ himself. We asked what did that sailor have in him that led him to do what he did? He was an instance of the good tree that was able to bear the fruit of heroism. But how wondrous the tree, we might say, that was Jesus Christ! He bore the fruit that was the redemption of the world by taking upon himself such incalculable sufferings, when he could so easily have done something else. Never was there a tunnel so dark as the one he chose to enter for our sakes. Christ loved me, St Paul writes, and gave himself up for me. Let us resolve to live in union with him so as to bear fruit, his fruit, that will last.

“Here is a saying you can rely on...Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.” It has been said that youth is the time of dreams, whereas later in life is the time of regrets. That, of course is a simplification, but it does bring out that with the years there Fr. Ted Tyler

often comes the disappointment of past mistakes and unrealized dreams. For the enthusiastic Christian, the years will bring a deeper sense of personal sinfulness and limitation — and this is a great advance. The danger with youth is that one’s hopes can so easily rest on oneself and on one’s own powers. With the years comes the opportunity to base one’s hopes on God and his power. That is to say, disappointment with one’s own powers and dreams, and the insights of greater experience, can offer the chance to entrust oneself with greater abandon to the saving power of God. St Paul tells Timothy in our first reading (1 Timothy 1: 15-17) that “Here is a saying that you can rely on and nobody should doubt: that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners. I myself am the greatest of them.” That is a saying we can rely on when we think of past disappointments, various failures, and personal sinfulness and limitations.

Christ has come to raise me up from all this and bring me to glory by means of my daily work for him. It is his power that will do it. I must begin again! I must pick up the pieces and start afresh, full of hope in the saving power of God. In the Gospel for today, our Lord speaks of the rock on which we must build the house. That rock is the power of God and his word, sustaining me in the doing of his will. The secret is to be ever starting afresh, full of hope.

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There is a great love of comfort, and at times a great irresponsibility hidden behind the attitude of those in authority who flee from the sorrow of correcting, making the excuse that they want to avoid the suffering of others. They may perhaps save themselves some discomfort in this life. But they are gambling with eternal happiness — the eternal happiness of others as well as their own — by these omissions of theirs. These omissions are real sins.

Entrance Antiphon Cf. Sir 36: 18 Give peace, O Lord, to those who wait for you, that your prophets be found true. Hear the prayers of your servant, and of your people Israel.

Collect Look upon us, O God, Creator and ruler of all things, and, that we may feel the working of your mercy, grant that we may serve you with all our heart. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

Cyprian is important in the development of Christian thought and practice in the third century, especially in northern Africa. Highly educated, a famous orator, he became a Christian as an adult. He distributed his goods to the poor, and amazed his fellow citizens by making a vow of chastity before his baptism. Within two years he had been ordained a priest and was chosen, against his will, as Bishop of Carthage (near modern Tunis). Cyprian complained that the peace the Church had enjoyed had weakened the spirit of many Christians and had opened the door to converts who did not have the true spirit of faith. When the Decian persecution began, many Christians easily abandoned the Church. It was their reinstatement that caused the great controversies of the third century, and helped the Church progress in its understanding of the Sacrament of Penance. Novatus, a priest who had opposed Cyprian's election, set himself up in Cyprian's absence (he had fled to a hiding place from which to direct the Church—bringing criticism on himself) and received back all apostates without imposing any canonical penance. Ultimately he was condemned. Cyprian held a middle course, holding that those who had actually sacrificed to idols could receive Communion only at death, whereas those who had only bought certificates saying they had sacrificed could be admitted after a more or less lengthy period of penance. Even this was relaxed during a new persecution. During a plague in Carthage, he urged Christians to help everyone, including their enemies and persecutors. A friend of Pope Cornelius, Cyprian opposed the following pope, Stephen. He and the other African bishops would not recognize the validity of baptism conferred by heretics and schismatics. This was not the universal view of the Church, but Cyprian was not intimidated even by Stephen's threat of excommunication. He was exiled by the emperor and then recalled for trial. He refused to leave the city, insisting that his people should have the witness of his martyrdom. Cyprian was a mixture of kindness and courage, vigour and steadiness. He was cheerful and serious, so that people did not know whether to love or respect him more. He waxed warm during the baptismal controversy; his feelings must have concerned him, for it was at this time that he wrote his treatise on patience. St. Augustine (August 28) remarks that Cyprian atoned for his anger by his glorious martyrdom. “You cannot have God for your Father if you do not have the Church for your mother.... God is one and Christ is one, and his Church is one; one is the faith, and one is the people cemented together by harmony into the strong unity of a body.... If we are the heirs of Christ, let us abide in the peace of Christ; if we are the sons of God, let us be lovers of peace” (St. Cyprian, The Unity of the Catholic Church). (AmericanCatholic.org)

Scripture today: Ecclesiasticus 27:33-28:9; Psalm 102; Romans 14: 7-9; Matthew 18:21-35

Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times? Jesus answered, I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times. Therefore, the kingdom of heaven is like a king who wanted to Shroud of Turin

settle accounts with his servants. As he began the settlement, a man who owed him ten thousand talents was brought to him. Since he was not able to pay, the master ordered that he and his wife and his children and all that he had be sold to repay the debt. The servant fell on his knees before him. 'Be patient with me,' he begged, 'and I will pay back everything.' The servant's master took pity on him, cancelled the debt and let him go. But when that servant went out, he found one of his fellow- servants who owed him a hundred denarii. He grabbed him and began to choke him. 'Pay back what you owe me!' he demanded. His fellow- servant fell to his knees and begged him, 'Be patient with me, and I will pay you back.' But he refused. Instead, he went off and had the man thrown into prison until he could pay the debt. When the other servants saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed and went and told their master everything that had happened. Then the master called the servant in. 'You wicked servant,' he said, 'I cancelled all that debt of yours because you begged me to. Shouldn't you have had mercy on your fellow- servant just as I had on you?' In anger his master turned him over to the jailers to be tortured, until he should pay back all he owed. This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother from your heart. (Matthew 18: 21-35)

Forgive! Sooner or later every person will experience injuries. They are unavoidable. The hurt may be protracted and deep. It could lead to resentment, dislike, even hatred, and the desire for revenge, depending on a person’s temperament and his awareness of this moral temptation. This is very human, and is an experience that is shared by people irrespective of religion or the lack of it. But the Christian is a disciple of Christ, one who learns from our Lord what God wants, and strives to put it into practice. “It is not those who say to me Lord, Lord, who will enter the kingdom of heaven, rather the one who hears the word of God and puts it into practice” (Matthew 7:21). If we want to build our lives on rock and not on sand (Matthew 7: 24-27), we must listen to our Lord’s words and act on them. In today’s Gospel (Matthew 18: 21-35) our Lord is asked by Simon Peter, “Lord, how often must I forgive my brother if he wrongs me?” Not just once or a few times, but even many times (that is, as often as “seven times”)? Jesus answered, Not just many times, I tell you, but without limit (that is, “seventy-seven times”). Our Lord’s command is that we forgive endlessly. It is especially this resolve and this capacity which will characterise the true Christian, one who is truly a follower of Christ. This is an immensely demanding requirement of true discipleship. But not only is it demanding. There is a lot at stake in its fulfilment, for our Lord tells us that God’s forgiveness of us will depend on our forgiveness of one another. Our Lord finishes the parable of today’s gospel with the words, “And in his anger the master handed him over to the torturers till he should pay all his debt. And that is how my heavenly Father will deal with you unless you each forgive your brother from your heart” (Matthew 18: 35). In the Lord’s Prayer we are instructed to ask our heavenly Father that he forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. In the version of the Prayer provided by St Matthew, Our Lord gives special emphasis to this. It is presumed that in asking our Father to forgive us, we have already forgiven those who have offended us (Matthew 6:14).

The tremendous question persisting in every life is, how can we possibly forgive from the heart, as we think of the injuries we have suffered? Anger persists, despite our seeing it and even wanting it to be otherwise. We find that we cannot do it. The sense of injury is constant and deep. Further, secretly we may simply not want to forgive, and we find that we cannot overcome this inner refusal. We can go through life never forgiving, and never wanting to forgive a particular person, or even several persons. Now, to the extent that we consent to this, and refuse to attempt genuine forgiveness from the heart, to that extent will God not forgive us. That is what is at stake. Much pins on this matter. Christ has revealed that to the extent that we refuse to forgive, our life in God will have reached an impasse. How, then, can we forgive? Firstly, let us remember that our Lord wants us to forgive. If we believe in Christ and in his gift to man of grace, we have a foundation on which to build our resolve to forgive all injuries. All things are possible for God. Further, if Jesus Christ wants it, out of love for him we too should want it. We shall not be united to him if he wants something and we do not want it. That is to say, love for Jesus and the thought of his love for us ought lead us to want to forgive from the heart. The daily thought of Jesus ought lead us to the daily desire to forgive for his sake, and to be good children of our heavenly Father. Secondly, we ought remember all that God has forgiven in us, all our sins and failings. In the parable of today’s Gospel (Matthew 18: 21-35), the master forgave the servant an astronomical sum of money — 10,000 talents. This was 60 million denarii, according to Zerwick and Grosvenor (An Analysis of the Greek N.T., p.59), a denarius being a day’s wages. But then this servant forgot his immense debt thus forgiven, and cruelly refused to forgive his fellow servant. It would have changed his life had he profoundly appreciated what had been done for him. Thirdly, we ought recognise our helplessness in being unable to forgive. We ought place our desire to forgive and our inability to do so in the care of the Holy Spirit who dwells within us. He is our Sanctifier.

The Holy Spirit gives us the grace to put on the mind of Christ, to forgive as Christ forgave, to be like God our Father in his kindness to sinners, including to us who are sinners, too. Day after day we ought entrust our difficulty in forgiving to God and his grace, telling him we want to forgive, praying for the ones who have injured us. Each day we ought strive to forgive the more. Total forgiveness ought be the life’s ambition of the Christian. By the end of our lives, how good it will be to leave this life having forgiven from the heart every single person who has injured us in any way. To do this we need God’s grace and a resolute daily effort to do God’s will.

Further reading: The Catechism of the Catholic Church, no.2838-2845 (Forgiveness)

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For many people a saint is an “uncomfortable” person to live with. But this doesn’t mean that he has to be unbearable. A saint’s zeal should never be bitter. When he corrects he should never be wounding. His example should never be an arrogant moral slap in his neighbour’s face.

Entrance Antiphon Cf. Sir 36: 18 Give peace, O Lord, to those who wait for you, that your prophets be found true. Hear the prayers of your servant, and of your people Israel.

This feast is a counterpart to the Feast of the Holy Name of Jesus (January 3); both have the possibility of uniting people easily divided on other matters. The feast of the Most Holy Name of Mary began in Spain in 1513 and in 1671 was extended to all of Spain and the Kingdom of Naples. In 1683, John Sobieski, king of Poland, brought an army to the outskirts of Vienna to stop the advance of Muslim armies loyal to Mohammed IV in Constantinople. After Sobieski entrusted himself to the Blessed Virgin Mary, he and his soldiers thoroughly defeated the Muslims. Pope Innocent XI extended this feast to the entire Church. “Lord our God, when your Son was dying on the altar of the cross, he gave us as our mother the one he had chosen to be his own mother, the Blessed Virgin Mary; grant that we who call upon the holy name of Mary, our mother, with confidence in her protection may receive strength and comfort in all our needs” (Marian Sacramentary, Mass for the Holy Name of the Blessed Virgin Mary). (AmericanCatholic.org)

When Jesus had finished all his words to the people, he entered Capernaum. A centurion there had a slave who was ill and about to die, and he was valuable to him. When he heard about Jesus, he sent Shroud of Turin

elders of the Jews to him, asking him to come and save the life of his slave. They approached Jesus and strongly urged him to come, saying, “He deserves to have you do this for him, for he loves our nation and he built the synagogue for us.” And Jesus went with them, but when he was only a short distance from the house, the centurion sent friends to tell him, “Lord, do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof. Therefore, I did not consider myself worthy to come to you; but say the word and let my servant be healed. For I too am a person subject to authority, with soldiers subject to me. And I say to one, Go, and he goes; and to another, Come here, and he comes; and to my slave, Do this, and he does it.” When Jesus heard this he was amazed at him and, turning, said to the crowd following him, “I tell you, not even in Israel have I found such faith.” When the messengers returned to the house, they found the slave in good health. (Luke 7:1-10)

Prayer of petition I remember attending a lunch-time lecture at Sydney University in, I think, 1968, given by a senior lecturer in the Department of Philosophy. He was a Catholic priest, who, sadly, subsequently left the priestly ministry. His lecture was on prayer and its efficacy, and he maintained that if one were to pray for rain, and if rain were soon to come following that prayer, then Fr. Ted Tyler

it was reasonable to suppose that the rain was the answer to prayer. The obvious objection was that, well, who was to say that the prayer was the only cause of the rain? It may have been a coincidence that the rain happened to come following the prayer — it may have come even if there had been no prayer for it. The room where he gave the lecture was fairly full, and there were two professors of Philosophy in attendance, both of whom I knew to be religiously agnostic. In the event, there followed an argument not so much between them and the priest but between the two professors of philosophy themselves, neither of whom would have agreed with the priest about the efficacy of prayer. At the time, that minor event of the lecture, scarcely ever to be thought of again, was yet another reminder to me of the importance of what we might call belief in a Particular Providence. If by “Providence” we mean the overall supervision of the course of the world by the Creator, then a belief in “Providence” in this general sense would not indicate a very lively faith in God. Such a “God” scarcely touches the individual, rather it is the world that touches and involves the individual. Belief in a particular Providence is belief in God as caring for the individual. He exercises a particular care over him such that the individual can appeal to him and expect this particular care to be shown. It is this belief that will lead to the prayer of petition. My point, though, is that it is this belief that indicates a lively belief in God as a living, personal, objective reality. For all their protestations, I doubt that the old-time Deists had much of a belief in God precisely because they did not expect much of him in terms of personal care. That Deism is with us still, but has led also to agnosticism and practical atheism.

While modern man typically relies on his management of the world rather than on the personal care of him by the Creator, the man of classical times — I refer to man without revealed religion — did appeal to the deity, or rather the deities for their personal care. Typically, belief in a Particular Providence was general, as it is, for instance, in traditional indigenous religions. It is characteristic of man that he relies on the care of the Unseen and knows he can in some sense appeal to the heavens for protection and aid. In this, the modern secular mind and imagination is an anomaly even though it has been a tremendous gain for it to have appreciated the independence of the world with its own laws. All of this brings us to our Gospel passage today (Luke 7:1-10), in which our Centurion at Capernaum sends a delegation of friends to ask our Lord to come and heal his servant whom he does not want to lose. His friends who speak to Jesus clearly do not regard him as one of the Faith (and there were many non-Jews who had embraced the Jewish religion), but he was a friend of their religion. He loved the nation and had built their Synagogue — perhaps it was the Synagogue of Capernaum. The point though, is that this pagan obviously had a lively religious belief (whatever it might have been) and this was shown in his faith in our Lord’s ability to intervene with supernatural power and take care of his servant. As a matter of fact, he had very great faith and we know something of the degree of it from our Lord’s own praise of him. We read that Jesus “was amazed at him and, turning, said to the crowd following him, “I tell you, not even in Israel have I found such faith.” There was not the slightest doubt in the heart of the Centurion that divine power was in the hands of Jesus of Nazareth, and that if his appeal was successful, his servant would be cured. Our Lord’s words suggest to us that the pagan Centurion had a genuine religious belief, that however faulty may have been his conception and image of the divine, he had a wonderful kernel of truth in his grasp. An important indicator of this was his lively faith in the particular care exercised by God.

If we truly believe that God loves us individually, and if we truly believe that God is the Creator and Lord of the world, then of course we shall pray to him for our needs as did the Centurion who presented his request to our Lord. If we never pray for our needs, or if we do it but sporadically and easily forget to continue when nothing seems to happen, what does this say of our belief? It says that we do not believe very much at all. Our Lord has something to say about this: he says that we are to pray continually and never to lose heart (Luke 18:1). We shall only do this if we have a lively faith in a real, objective, loving God who exercises a personal care over us. The greatest manifestation of this is the Person, the life and the work of Jesus Christ his Son, our Lord.

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"My advice is that, first of all, there should be prayers offered for everyone" I knew one lady of advanced years who used to be constantly arranging for Masses to be said for various faithful departed. When at length she died, one person said to me that she was convinced that God had given Fr. Ted Tyler

to that lady a long life in order that those many Masses for the faithful departed would be said. All people need the prayers of others, most of all the prayer of Christ himself — which is the Mass. Praying for the living and the dead is a great act of charity. St Paul writes in his first Letter to Timothy today that “there should be prayers offered for everyone — petitions, intercessions and thanksgiving — and especially for kings and others in authority” (1 Timothy 2: 1-8). There may be many things we are unable to do for particular people, but at least we can pray for them. The elderly and the sick can pray for others and offer up their sufferings for the benefit of others, both living and dead. If we work, then our professional work by means of which we earn our living, can be accompanied by our prayers for the ones we are serving in our work. The doctor can pray that his work will have success in the lives of his patients. The builder can pray for those he serves professionally. We ought fill our lives with prayer for others. "Especially", St Paul writes, we ought pray for those with the responsibility of exercising authority over others.

Let us fill our lives with prayer, prayer of adoration, praise and thanksgiving, and, very importantly, prayer of petition for everyone, and especially for those in authority.

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There was a young priest who used to address Jesus with the words of the Apostles: Edissere nobis parabolam, explain the parable to us. He would add: Master, put into our souls the clarity of your teaching, so that it may never be absent from our lives and our works. And so that we can give it to others. You too should say this to Our Lord.

Entrance Antiphon Cf. Sir 36: 18 Give peace, O Lord, to those who wait for you, that your prophets be found true. Hear the prayers of your servant, and of your people Israel.

(September 13) Saint John Chrysostom, bishop and doctor of the Church (died 407)

The ambiguity and intrigue surrounding John, the great preacher (his name means "golden-mouthed") from Antioch, are characteristic of the life of any great man in a capital city. Brought to Constantinople after a dozen years of priestly service in Syria, John found himself the reluctant victim of an imperial ruse to make him bishop in the greatest city of the empire. Ascetic, unimposing but dignified, and troubled by stomach ailments from his desert days as a monk, John began his episcopate under the cloud of imperial politics. If his body was weak, his tongue was powerful. The content of his sermons, his exegesis of Scripture, were never without a point. Sometimes the point stung the high and mighty. Some sermons lasted up to two hours. His life-style at the imperial court was not appreciated by some courtiers. He offered a modest table to episcopal sycophants hanging around for imperial and ecclesiastical favours. John deplored the court protocol that accorded him precedence before the highest state officials. He would not be a kept man. His zeal led him to decisive action. Bishops who bribed their way into their office were deposed. Many of his sermons called for concrete steps to share wealth with the poor. The rich did not appreciate hearing from John that private property existed because of Adam's fall from grace any more than married men liked to hear that they were bound to marital fidelity just as much as their wives. When it came to justice and charity, John acknowledged no double standards. Aloof, energetic, outspoken, especially when he became excited in the pulpit, John was a sure target for criticism and personal trouble. He was accused of gorging himself secretly on rich wines and fine foods. His faithfulness as spiritual director to the rich widow, Olympia, provoked much gossip attempting to prove him a hypocrite where wealth and chastity were concerned. His action taken against unworthy bishops in Asia Minor was viewed by other ecclesiastics as a greedy, uncanonical extension of his authority. Two prominent personages who personally undertook to discredit John were Theophilus, Archbishop of Alexandria, and Empress Eudoxia. Theophilus feared the growth in importance of the Bishop of Constantinople and took occasion to charge John with fostering heresy. Theophilus and other angered bishops were supported by Eudoxia. The empress resented his sermons contrasting gospel values with the excesses of imperial court life. Whether intended or not, sermons mentioning the lurid Jezebel and impious Herodias were associated with the empress, who finally did manage to have John exiled. He died in exile in 407.

Soon afterward, Jesus went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. As he approached the town gate, a dead person was being carried out — the only son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd from the town was with her. When the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her and he said, "Don't cry." Then he went up and touched the bier they were carrying him on, and the bearers stood still. He said, "Young man, I say to you, get up!" The dead man sat up and began to talk, and Jesus gave him back to his mother. They were all filled with awe and praised God. "A great prophet has appeared among us," they said. "God has come to help his people." This news about Jesus spread throughout Judea and the surrounding country. (Luke 7: 11-17)

Do not weep That there is a great deal that happens in life which is not to one’s liking is, to say the very least, an understatement. Years ago a prominent Australian politician famously said that life was not meant to be easy — and he was pilloried in the press for his observation. Much in life is very difficult, and some things are appalling. There is famine, disease and above all, death. There is loneliness, frustration and seeming lack of point in many things that happen. Some decide that, as God is normally defined (One who is almighty and all-good), he could not exist. If he did exist, things would not be as they are. Many do not bother with the question. When faced with life as it is, the thought of God is for them an irrelevancy. God is far removed from their real concerns which are to make ends meet and to cope with a difficult life. He may exist but he is of no help. A young couple have their infant son — the joy of their life. Suddenly he is run over by a car and killed. The light has gone from their lives — and what use is it to talk of God? He is no help at all. Death is the pre-eminent human problem, and whether God exists or not, he makes no difference to that. One cannot live in the expectation that God will do something useful, and so life must be lived as if he did not exist. Will he, say, raise the dead or stop the deterioration of one’s life? Of course not. The typical man or woman of the modern secular culture grieves when tragedy strikes, but he knows he must then get on with it, using his best wits to harness life, nature and the world. It is impractical to expect much from God. In view of this common experience, it is a moot question for many what kind of a reality God is anyway. What is God? Well, who cares! He is of no help in the big things, nor, really in the little things. The world is the one Fact that one has to deal with in life, and it has its own laws which man must respect — or else! I suspect that it is this assumption that the world is the most substantial thing there is which fosters the modern prejudice against, say, the miracles in the Gospels, and miracles anywhere else. Miracles are unbelievable and a side-issue. The main game is the world and its laws.

In our Gospel today, tragedy has struck an elderly woman and perhaps many others in the village. There is no question in their case of any rejection of God — in a mass sense, that is a modern phenomenon. Death has struck, and it is the only son of a widow. He is there, being carried out on a bier to the cemetery. Nothing more can be expected, and very little for the poor widow who has several years of difficulty and loneliness ahead of her. When Lazarus died and our Lord arrived at Bethany several days later, Martha said to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” No-one was present to prevent the death of the son of the widow of Nain. There at the gate the body was being carried out for burial, when Jesus appeared on the scene. What followed was a revelation of how God views the situation. He views it with the utmost compassion, and he shows that he is a help, after all. It is entirely wrong to think that God may exist but he is of no help. “When the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her and he said, "Don't cry." Then he went up and touched the bier they were carrying him on, and the bearers stood still. He said, "Young man, I say to you, get up!" The dead man sat up and began to talk, and Jesus gave him back to his mother” (Luke 7: 11-17). The miracles of Jesus Christ as portrayed in the Gospels are obviously not meant to show what God will always do in the face of difficulty and death. Our Lord did not raise from the dead every person who died during his public ministry. He raised a few, and he did this to reveal the reality and nature of God. God is all-powerful and all-loving. He looks on our sufferings and deprivations with the utmost compassion, and the few miracles that occur are windows into his attitude and nature. They show us that, if we obey him patiently, he will resolve all things wonderfully in the fulness of time. More, it shows our Lord’s limitless power to do what is the most important thing of all, to raise us up from sin and to place us in his grace. This grace of God is a present share in the life of God — grand, indestructible, eternal. God is our Help, but we must be patient. In all difficulties we must cling to Jesus Christ his Son.

If Jesus Christ spontaneously felt immense compassion for the widow of Nain and proceeded to restore her son to her, then despite all appearances he has good things in mind for all who suffer. He feels the same immense compassion for all who suffer that he felt for her. He will do good things for them, just as he did good things for her. When he will do it, is not for us to say. What he will do, is not for us to say. As St Paul writes, "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him" (1 Corinthians 2:9).

“A dead man was being carried out for burial, the only son of his mother” There is much evil and suffering in the world. Why there is this suffering is a great mystery, but there are many other great mysteries too. For instance, why is there not nothing, anyway? The reply of many to such a question as this, is that the reality we see around us simply is. It is just the fact — as if no further explanation is needed for the fact that things are. Others add that the presence of evil and suffering ought be considered in the same way — that this is just how things are. Reality has no ultimate meaning — this is just the way it happens to be. But man is instinctively religious. He tends to insist that there must be some ultimate rationality in the universe. He searches for that rationality. But what the ultimate reason behind evil and suffering is, escapes him. For this, he needs light from above. In our Gospel passage today our Lord “went to a town called Nain” and “when he was near the gate of the town it happened that a dead man was being carried out for burial, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow” (Luke 7: 11-17). Our Lord’s compassion was immediate. He stopped the funeral procession and, comforting the widow, raised the dead man and “gave him to his mother.” At a word he made right the suffering that had come upon the widow. He had all the power and love to do it. Why did he not do the same for a great number of other widows at that time? We do not know. Why did he not put an end to other forms of suffering that he released particular people from during his public ministry? We do not know. Why does not God put an end to all suffering? We do not know. Anyhow, why did Christ himself (in the plan of God) have to suffer and so enter into his glory? We do not know.

When God does hear the cry of the one who suffers by putting an end to a particular burden, he shows he has the love and the power needed to save. What we must do is have faith in him and sanctify our suffering in union with Jesus who, by his obedient suffering, saved the world.

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Always have the courage — the humility, the desire to serve God — to put forward the truths of faith as they are, without watering them down, without ambiguity.

Entrance Antiphon Cf. Sir 36: 18 Give peace, O Lord, to those who wait for you, that your prophets be found true. Hear the prayers of your servant, and of your people Israel.

(September 14) The Victory of the Holy Cross (Picture: Titulum crucis in Rome)

Early in the fourth century St. Helena, mother of the Roman Emperor Constantine, went to Jerusalem in search of the holy places of Christ's life. She razed the Temple of Aphrodite, which tradition held was built over the Saviour's tomb, and her son built the Basilica of the Holy Sepulchre over the tomb. During the excavation, workers found three crosses. The story is that the one on which Jesus died was identified Titulus Crucis Relic O fCross In Rome

when its touch healed a dying woman. The cross immediately became an object of veneration. At a Good Friday celebration in Jerusalem toward the end of the fourth century, according to an eyewitness, the wood was taken out of its silver container and placed on a table together with the inscription Pilate ordered placed above Jesus' head: Then "all the people pass through one by one; all of them bow down, touching the cross and the inscription, first with their foreheads, then with their eyes; and, after kissing the cross, they move on." To this day the Eastern Churches, Catholic and Orthodox alike, celebrate the Exaltation of the Holy Cross on the September anniversary of the basilica's dedication. The feast entered the Western calendar in the seventh century after Emperor Heraclius recovered the cross from the Persians, who had carried it off in 614, 15 years earlier. According to the story, the emperor intended to carry the cross back into Jerusalem himself, but was unable to move forward until he took off his imperial garb and became a barefoot pilgrim. "How splendid the cross of Christ! It brings life, not death; light, not darkness; Paradise, not its loss. It is the wood on which the Lord, like a great warrior, was wounded in hands and feet and side, but healed thereby our wounds. A tree has destroyed us, a tree now brought us life" (Theodore of Studios). (AmericanCatholic.org)

Scripture today: Numbers 21:4b-9; Psalm 78:1bc-2, 34-38; Phil 2:6-11; John 3:13-17

Jesus said to Nicodemus, No-one has ever gone into heaven except the one who came from heaven— the Son of Man. Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life. For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. (John 3:13-17)

The Cross It is generally agreed that suffer we must, and many writers have suggested a nonchalant and stoic approach to it. I have read somewhere that Marcus T. Cicero said, "All pain is either severe or slight, if slight, it is easily endured; if severe, it will without doubt be brief (i.e,. because one will die)." Aristotle famously wrote that “Suffering becomes beautiful when anyone bears great calamities with cheerfulness, not through insensibility but through greatness of mind.” There is indeed a beauty about a person who can suffer “with cheerfulness.” But the question remains, why must we suffer anyway? Let us set aside that question for it may be unanswerable, or at least unprofitable in practical terms. If our question is, can it be useful or valuable? then a variety of answers will be given — and Aristotle at least suggested that the cheerful endurance of suffering gives to the sufferer an aura of beauty. It can be suggested that “suffering” is a useful mechanism preserving health — like pain of a toothache, which alerts the sufferer to the need for medical attention. But can we get any deeper than this? Can any value be attributed to being sick, or being maligned, or losing one’s possessions, or being frustrated in one’s ambitions? If due to “luck” or whatever other cause, one’s life turns out to be a train of sufferings, what is to be made of this? What is to be made of the ultimate reversal, death itself? Can this be understood ultimately in positive terms? Imagine a conversation between Aristotle and Jesus Christ, in which Christ tells the Philosopher that he, Jesus, had to suffer much and die a terrible death in order that life might come to the world. I suspect that Aristotle would have perceived the great moral stature of the One before him, but would have thought, like Simon Peter (Matthew 16:22), that at all costs he had to be dissuaded from that course. I wonder what the Philosopher would have thought had Christ told him that the one who saves his life will lose it, and the one who loses his life “for my sake” will find it. I suspect that in his heart, as we might say, he would have shaken his head, uncomprehending. The fact is that Jesus Christ has turned the biggest issue in human history on its head. The grand negative, which is suffering and death, is now the grand positive — if accepted in religious obedience.

I venture to say that this central point in the Christian religion — the positive nature of suffering — is inaccessible to the one without faith in Jesus Christ. What would Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, Cicero or any other pagan thinker have to say about St Rose of Lima’s (1586-1617) account of Christ’s words to her: “The Lord, our Saviour, raised his voice and spoke with incomparable majesty. ‘Let all know,’ he said, ‘that after sorrow grace follows; let them understand that without the burden of affliction one cannot arrive at the height of glory’...” She continues in her writings: “No one would complain about the cross or about hardships coming seemingly by chance upon him, if he realized in what balance they are weighed before being distributed to men.” In this Gospel-inspired piece, sufferings as permitted by God are a blessing because they are the path to glory. They are not tragic in ultimate terms, if accepted in obedience to God. They are the path to life unseen. This perspective is ridiculous to the wise of the world, especially when related to admitted tragedies such as murder, mayhem, natural disasters and real calamities. But we know it, not from the testimony of reason, from experience or from what the greatest of philosophers might perceive, but from the teaching and example of Jesus Christ, the Teacher of the world. What this shows is that faith is a source of a unique knowledge that is beyond the powers of observation and reason alone. It is a knowledge derived from gazing on the Person of Jesus Christ and placing one’s faith in his word because of who he is: the Messiah, the Son of the Living God. He chose to suffer because it was the will of his heavenly Father. Mysteriously, suffering was the path to his glory as man, and in union with him it is the path to glory for all — Aristotle and his like, included. Christ went forward to the leaders of the nation to bear witness to the truth of his Person and teaching, and embraced the Cross that was placed on his shoulders as a result. In the divine plan, so it had to be if he was to attain the glory. The result? The Cross now glows in triumph. It is the sword and the shield, the helmet and the chariot whereby our Champion won the field. Let each mount his steed with him, then, and proceed towards the same victory.

As our Lord says in today’s Gospel, “the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life” (John 3:13-17). St Paul had no doubt about this fundamental point. “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death” (Philippians 3:10). Again, “If we have been united with him like this in his death, we will certainly also be united with him in his resurrection” (Romans 6:5). Let us pray for the singular grace, the gift from God that can turn our lives around, of embracing the Cross in union with the Saviour, and thus powerfully contribute towards the sanctification of the world. It comes through the triumph of Christ’s Cross.

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“Being as all men are, he was humbler yet, even to accepting death, death on a cross” An essential component of good work is that the right means to attain the end of the project be selected. If a military general hopes to attain victory he must be skilled in selecting the right means to do it. When historians examine the work of various personalities in history and consider why they achieved their goals, they can point to causes that account for certain results. But in respect to the greatest event in the history of the world, the salvation of mankind, the cause of it is beyond understanding. The cause of the redemption of man was the Passion and Death of the Messiah. Christ became man and dwelt among us especially to suffer and to die. He “became as men are: and being as all men are, he was humbler yet, even to accepting death, death on a cross. But God raised him high” (Philippians 2: 6-11). Now, why was it that Christ’s sufferings achieved the redemption of mankind? Why did the Messiah have to suffer in order to enter into his glory, and to open up to all of us a share in that glory? We do not know — it is a mystery. But fact it is: obedience in suffering is the path to glory. Whether we understand it or not, we have in the Cross the key to salvation, sanctification and glory. The task of life is to act on this revealed truth and to embrace in obedience the Cross, in union with Christ.

It is at Mass that all that Christ won for us by his Cross is made available to us. The Mass is the Cross of Christ made present. At Mass we are able to be with Christ as given to the Father on our behalf, in that same act of surrender he effected at Calvary. In Holy Communion we unite ourselves with him in his self-gift. Just as Calvary was the high point and greatest expression of our Lord’s whole life, so Mass is the high point and greatest expression of our life and the life of the Church. Let us put everything into our Sunday — or better still, our daily — Mass. Just as Calvary was the triumph and exaltation of Christ’s Cross, so the Mass is the moment when the triumph and exaltation of Christ’s Cross is made present. Let us ask God during Mass for the grace of a deep love for the Cross and an appreciation of how central it is in the Christian life.

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There is no other possible attitude for a Catholic: we have to defend the authority of the Pope always, and to be ready always to correct our own views with docility, in line with the teaching authority of the Church.

Entrance Antiphon Cf. Lk 2: 34-35 Simeon said to Mary: Behold, this child is destined for the ruin and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign of contradiction; and your own soul a sword will pierce.

Collect O God, who willed that, when your Son was lifted high on the Cross, his Mother should stand close by and share his suffering, grant that your Church, participating with the Virgin Mary in the Passion of Christ, may merit a share in his Resurrection. Who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

This feast has its origin in that Christian devotion which associates her with the Passion of her Son. Pope Pius VII extended this devotion to Mother Of Sorrows

the whole Church and, in 1912, St Pius X fixed the feast on this day, within the octave of the Nativity of our Mother the Virgin. Our Mother the Virgin Mary teaches us to live, together with her, beside the Cross of her Son. In her suffering as co-redeemer, she reminds us of the tremendous malice of sin and shows us the way of true repentance. For a while there were two feasts in honour of the Sorrowful Mother: one going back to the 15th century, the other to the 17th century. For a while both were celebrated by the universal Church: one on the Friday before Palm Sunday, the other in September. The principal biblical references to Mary's sorrows are in Luke 2:35 and John 19:26-27. The Lucan passage is Simeon's prediction about a sword piercing Mary's soul; the Johannine passage relates Jesus' words to Mary and to the beloved disciple. Many early Church writers interpret the sword as Mary's sorrows, especially as she saw Jesus die on the cross. Thus, the two passages are brought together as prediction and fulfilment. St. Ambrose (December7) in particular sees Mary as a sorrowful yet powerful figure at the cross. Mary stood fearlessly at the cross while others fled. Mary looked on her Son's wounds with pity, but saw in them the salvation of the world. As Jesus hung on the cross, Mary stood there in perfect solidarity with him. (AmericanCatholic.org)

Scripture today: Hebrews 5: 7-9; Psalm 30; John 19:25-27 or Luke 2:33-35

Jesus’ father and mother were amazed at what was said about him; and Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother, “Behold, this child is destined for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be contradicted and you yourself a sword will pierce so that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.” (Luke 2:33-35)

Standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple there whom he loved he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son.” Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother.” And from that hour the disciple took her into his home. (John 19:25-27)

Mary The first of our two possible Gospel passages today is from St Luke. We could say that, in view of the wealth of references to Mary in Luke, it is in Luke’s portrayal of her in his Gospel and in The Acts that the believer’s contemplation of Mary is given its essential framework. There are nine episodes in which Luke presents Mary, most of them being part of his infancy narrative. There is the Annunciation (Luke 1:26-38), Mary’s visit to Elizabeth (Luke 1:39-45), the birth of Jesus (Luke 2:1-7) and intervention of the Fr. Ted Tyler

Angels and the Shepherds (Luke 2:8-20, the naming of Jesus and his presentation in the Temple (Luke 2:21-40), the boy Jesus in the Temple (Luke 2:41-52), Christ’s words about his true relatives (Luke 8:19-21) and on true blessedness (Luke 11:27-28), and finally there is Mary’s presence in the life of the infant Church (Acts 1:12-14). No other disciple of Christ receives such space in his Gospel, though it is discretely done. Though there are references to Mary in both Matthew and Mark, they do not match Luke’s range — nor even in John himself, into whose hands Christ entrusted his blessed mother. One may divine that Luke had a special love for Mary the mother of the Lord (as had Matthew, Mark and John, of course), and as Paul’s companion we may presume that Paul did too. Doubtless Mary was the principal source of Luke’s infancy account, and a great deal could be said about Mary by prayerfully contemplating his presentations of her. But our interest here is one aspect of her life, albeit a principal one: her union with her Son in his sufferings. The sufferings of the Messiah were a principal path whereby he gained the victory of man’s redemption. He had to suffer in order to enter his glory, a glory for us too. Moreover, he made it abundantly clear that his disciples must take up their cross with him if they were to be his disciples. Luke makes it clear that this was certainly the case with his own mother. Led by the Spirit, Simeon had prophesied that “a sword will go through the soul” (tēn psuchēn dieleusetai rhomphaia) of “Mary his mother” (Luke 2: 34-35). This was because the child would be “a sign” that is “spoken against.”

In John, the Mother of Jesus is the “Woman.” Christ addresses her as such at her first intervention in his Gospel. It was she who initiated Christ’s entry into his public mission when she presented to him the need of the Wedding Feast of Cana. “They have no wine” (John 2: 3) — it is a symbol of the need of fallen man, man who is the descendant of the first Eve. The first Eve was the “Woman” of Genesis whom God had created from “the Man” and to whom the Serpent so successfully spoke (Genesis 2:22-3:2). The first “Woman” took the fruit and ate it, and gave some to her husband who was with her, and he ate of it (Genesis 3:6). The first “Woman” became “the mother of all the living” (Genesis 3:20). At the Wedding Feast of Cana (surely a symbol also of the imminent Kingdom of God, in which he was the Bridegroom), Christ addresses his mother as “Woman.” While she is his own mother — for John makes it clear that it is the “mother of Jesus” who is there and who addresses Jesus — he regards her as the new Eve, the new “Woman,” the new mother of all the living. At the outset of the public ministry, then, John presents the new “Man” and the new “Woman,” the new Adam and the new Eve. The Letter to the Hebrews presents Jesus Christ as our great High Priest who always intercedes for us his brothers at the right hand of the Father. John reminds us that Mary his mother is the new Eve who by her intercession initiated the public ministry of the Redeemer, and who by her prayers, therefore, is the help of Christians. At the foot of the Cross, John again presents the mother of Jesus. At this final moment, with the redemption well-nigh completed, the new Adam addresses the “Woman,” the new Eve, the mother of all the living. He gives her to the beloved disciple, directing her to regard him as her son, and him to regard her as his mother. The point here, though, is that the new Eve is at one with the new Adam in his sufferings, and in his obedience — the contrast with the first Adam and the first Eve is total. She is at the foot of the Cross, and precisely there she receives her mission in the Church to be “mother of all the living.” As Christians, we are all called to follow in the footsteps of the suffering Messiah. We have a mother — the first and foremost Christian — to help us do this by her intercession and her perfect example.

Hail Mary! You who are full of grace — as the Angel said, the Lord is with you! Most blessed are you among all women, and for all generations will you thus be called blessed. Blessed is the fruit of your womb — Jesus our Redeemer and our God! O holy Mary, mother of God the Son made man, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death! “Woman” most holy, new Eve, mother of all the living, help us be more and more united to Jesus your Son, so that we may share in the glory you now enjoy through the merits of the one and only Redeemer.

“Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother and his mother's sister, Mary..” It is nearly 2000 years ago at a backwater of the Roman Empire, on a small rise outside the walls of Jerusalem. Three men were being crucified and one of them claimed to be the long-awaited Messiah. In front of him was a small group that included his mother. The one being crucified knew that he was the Fr. Ted Tyler

protagonist in a cosmic drama going on at that moment, and it was all hinging on his own sufferings. He was mankind's sacrifice to God for sin. He knew he was the offerer and the victim. By his obedient suffering he would save the world from sin and unite it, in principle, to God. One other person present at that scene knew this too. That person was his mother. But she was not just a knowing spectator. She was utterly united with her Son, the Suffering Servant of God before her. She shared in his sufferings and in his attitude to God his Father. Inasmuch as precisely by his obedient suffering he redeemed mankind, by her obedient suffering in union with him, she shared in his work of redeeming mankind. In this she was the spiritual mother and model of a host of children. Just as God is the sole creator of the world and yet man may, by his daily work collaborate with God in his creative work, so too Mary collaborated with her Son in the redemption of the world. She did this in her hidden situation on the hill of Calvary, unnoticed but incalculably effective in her union with the Redeemer.

So too, the ordinary Christian of any time, place and calling may collaborate with Jesus in the redemption of the world by his or her daily obedience, especially by that obedience that is marked by suffering. St Paul writes that by his sufferings he was able "to make up for all that has still to be undergone by Christ for the sake of his body the Church" (Colossians 1:24). The ordinary Christian, whatever be his situation and work in life, may stand with Mary at the foot of the Cross, notably at Mass where Calvary is made truly present. This union with the Redeemer is especially effected in Holy Communion. Let us day by day be united with Mary our Mother and our Model at the foot of the Cross, and in Christ let us contribute by our daily work and our obedient suffering to the redemption of mankind.

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A long time ago someone asked me, tactlessly, whether those of us whose career is the priesthood are able to retire when we get old. And since I gave him no answer, he persisted with his impertinent question. Then an answer came to me which, I thought, put it in a nutshell. “The priesthood,” I told him, “is not a career: it is an apostolate.” That’s how I feel about it. And I wanted to put it down in these notes so that — with God’s help — none of us may ever forget the difference.

Liturgical Season	Sun	Mon	Tues	Wed	Thurs	Fri	Sat
22nd Week of Ordinary Time A-1					1	2	3
23rd Week of Ordinary Time A-1	4	5	6	7	8 Birth of Blessed Virgin Mary	9	10
24th Week of Ordinary Time A-1	11	12	13	14 The Triumph of The Cross	15 Our Lady of Sorrows