Today on Perspectives, Pope Francis beatifies Paul VI, the closing of the Extraordinary Synod of Bishops on the family, a look at the various documents and speeches coming out of the meetings, we talk to a number of bishops after the Synod and a Consistory is held to name two new saints as well as look at the problems in the Middle East.
By tradition Joachim and Anne are considered to be the names of the parents of Mary, the Mother of God. We have no historical evidence, however, of any elements of their lives, including their names. Any stories about Mary’s father and mother come to us through legend and tradition. We get the oldest story from a document called the Gospel of James, though in no way should this document be trusted to be factual, historical, or the Word of God. The legend told in this document says that after years of childlessness, an angel appeared to tell Anne and Joachim that they would have a child. Anne promised to dedicate this child to God (much the way that Samuel was dedicated by his mother Hannah — Anne — in I Kings).
For those who wonder what we can learn from people we know nothing about and how we can honor them, we must focus on why they are honored by the church. Whatever their names or the facts of their lives, the truth is that it was the parents of Mary who nurtured Mary, taught her, brought her up to be a worthy Mother of God. It was their teaching that led her to respond to God’s request with faith, “Let it be done to me as you will.” It was their example of parenting that Mary must have followed as she brought up her own son, Jesus. It was their faith that laid the foundation of courage and strength that allowed her to stand by the cross as her son was crucified and still believe. Such parents can be examples and models for all parents. [Read more...]
St. Josemaria and I
I met Opus Dei, often coined “the Work”, in Vancouver through my best friend. She invited me to a centre of the Work to attend one of their Christmas Triduum’s. I was in awe of the beautiful centre and all the happy people I saw there.
Shortly after that I attended a silent retreat for University girls that was run by members of the work, and it was in that retreat that I knew I had happened upon something divine. From there, I began attending weekly activities, because all the people I met were genuine and down-to- earth.
Just under a year of having met Opus Dei, I had the privilege of visiting 6 different centers in 3 different countries: Canada, United States and Peru. I was making trips to visit family and to do a service project, so while I was travelling I made it a point to visit the nearest centre in each city.
Every experience was just as amazing as the last. Each centre was totally unique from the other in terms of appearance, yet all of them, whether its physical makings was a building or a house, radiated a home.
I was always warmly greeted, fresh flowers were often set out, and surfaces were immaculate. But, best of all the oratory in every centre was always quiet and peaceful, no matter how many people were praying there.
I was attracted by this spiritual solidarity. It wasn’t until later that I learned that this unity existed because Opus Dei is a family. If you ask any member why things are the way they are, you’ll often get a response like this, “… because our Father wanted it this way.”
At this point, I knew very little of the Work and even less about it’s founder, St. Josemaria, who members of the Work call their Father. I wanted to know the source of their joy and how they came to be so loyal and so in love with their founder and their Faith.
The more I learned about St. Josemaria, the more I appreciated Opus Dei. Some of his published works like his homilies, “Christ is passing by” and “Friends of God” or like “The Way”, “The Forge” and “The Furrow”, have helped me to aspire to follow Christ well and to love him even more.
Through his teachings I have grown to appreciate the church, and I found more clarity in the things I had been skeptical about, like devotion to our Lady. Now I see that devotion to our Lady is a very necessary part of being a Christian, because Christ wanted us to follow him in all things and he wanted us to have a mother.
Since Christ himself had a great devotion to Mary, it only makes sense as true Christians to imitate him especially in his love for his Mother, our mother. Ever since coming to understand this, I have obtained many graces from her intercession! In the words of St. Josemaria, “All with Peter, to Jesus through Mary!”
One of the greatest things that I have taken away from St. Josemaria is the plan of life. A number of things that I should struggle to fulfill well, throughout my day, which should fit my schedule like a glove, without becoming routine.
All these things are not new, nor invented by St. Josemaria. They are gifts of the Catholic church which the Work uses as a means to help us live closely united with Christ. These turn the entire day and all that consists of it into prayer. A few examples being: a dedicated time of dialogue with Christ, daily mass, the angelus, spiritual reading and the rosary.
Before having met the work and living a plan of life, I found myself going about each day just to survive. Yet this has given me the means not just to survive, but to live. It has been only a year and a half now since having met the Work and there are still so many things to learn about my Faith and St. Josemaria, yet if I had to describe him in one word it would be…
Saint Josemaria Escriva in a Word
What made him brilliant was nothing more than his boundless love for God. St. Josemaria had an intrinsic capacity to contemplate all areas of his life very well. He would seek the Lord in all matters. And because of this, there were many things that God asked of him. Things that by human means seemed impossible, yet he persevered out of love with a supernatural outlook.
Josemaria’s greatest desire was to send Christ’s message to as many people as possible. He showed people how to sanctify themselves and to do apostolate, which is the foundation of Opus Dei.
His love for God is reflected well in his works, which are just as relevant, effective and true today as they were when he was alive. This is because his brilliance was merely a reflection of God’s brilliance.
He glorified God with his entire life
St. Josemaria Escriva, by way of life and feats has many titles. Yet, I believe the one he liked the least was Founder, and the one he liked the most was Father.
As a founder, he was given the incredible vocation to start Opus Dei in 1928. However, St. Josemaria would remind everyone that the true Founder of Opus Dei is God.
Everything he did was very natural and very ordinary, yet this is precisely what made everything he did extraordinary. He urged people to do even the smallest of things well, which was often his measure for love of God.
As a Father, St. Josemaria helped thousands of people from all walks of life to sanctify their ordinary lives. Rich, poor, young, old – he loved everyone and took great interest in each person he met and prayed earnestly for those he hadn’t met, but had only heard about.
In reading his life stories, you learn that his profound love for God and the church did not occur over night. In fact, he would often call himself merely a sinner who loved Jesus Christ. And the path to sanctity consisted of falling and getting up again each time stronger than the last. A strong ally to this was his message of constantly living in the presence of God.
His legacy continues by the lives over 90,000 members of Opus Dei in over 90 countries around the world. The members consist of single people living in apostolic celibacy, married people and even priests! Each one just regular Christians trying to sanctify their ordinary lives, just as St. Josemaria taught them how, and because God gave them the vocation to do so.
Not included in these 90,000 members, are the cooperators of Opus Dei. Which consist of people from all different backgrounds and even different religions. They have asked to be cooperators for all different causes, but what they all have in common is their admiration for St. Josemaria and his teachings.
Among these members of Opus Dei was Bishop Alvaro Del Portillo, who was the first successor of St. Josemaria from 1975 to 1994. He saw the work through many trials and successes. He saw Opus Dei become a personal prelature of the Catholic Church and was fortunate enough to witness the beatification of St. Josemaria in 1992.
This year, thousands of members of Opus Dei and their friends and family will be celebrating the Beatifcation of Bishop Alvaro on September 27, 2014 in Madrid, Spain.
Today the cause for beatification for over 13 members of Opus Dei both single and married members is open.
A Universal Call to Holiness
It seems people are really catching on to what St. Josemaria has been so eagerly explaining of the very teachings of Christ and the Catholic Church. I’ve noticed memes circulating social media with his quotes like:
“To be happy what you need is not an easy life, but a heart which is IN LOVE.”
“He did not say you would not be troubled, you would not be tempted, you would not be distressed, but he did say you would not be overcome.”
“We all must have the faith of children, but the doctrine of theologians.”
I have learned many things from St. Josemaria, which inspire me to be holy, but the greatest of these is to love the one who loved me first and to give him my all, as everything I have comes from him.
“May you seek Christ, may you find Christ and may you love Christ.” – St. Josemaria Escriva
Today is St. Josemaria’s Feast day, June 26th. Here you can find his prayer card, and you can ask him for help to continue in this worthwhile path. And if you haven’t started yet, you can start now. Sanctity is for everyone, we were all made for heaven, and you are no exception.
List of all the masses around Canada
- Otterburn Park – Thursday, June 26 at 7:40 a.m.
- Burnaby – Thursday, June 26, 2014 at 12:30 p.m. (invitation here )
- Calgary – Thursday, June 26, 2014 at 7:30 p.m. (invitation here)
- Ottawa – Thursday June 26, 2014 at 7:30 p.m. (invitation here)
- Vancouver – Thursday, June 26, 2014 at 7:30 p.m. (invitation here)
- Victoria – Thursday, June 26, 2014 at 7:00 p.m. (invitation here)
- London – Saturday, June 28, 2014 at 12:00 p.m. (invitation here)
- Oakville – Saturday June 28, 2014 at 10:30 a.m. (invitation here)
- Winnipeg – Saturday June 28, 2014 at 10:30 a.m. (invitation here)
By Guest Writer Trisha Villarante
Father Molinari, longtime promoter of saints’ causes, dies at 90 in Rome.
Below is the story by Cindy Wooden of Catholic News Service
ROME (CNS) — Italian Jesuit Father Paolo Molinari, official promoter of sainthood causes great and small, died at the age of 90 at the Jesuit headquarters in Rome May 2. From 1957 to 2010, the Turin-born priest was the official postulator of Jesuit sainthood causes and of many others. He conducted research and prepared all the paperwork for the canonizations of the Martyrs of England and Wales, St. Kateri Tekakwitha and St. Philippine Duchesne, for example.
Jesuit Father Giuseppe Bellucci, spokesman for the order, said that by the Jesuits’ calculations, Father Molinari brought 39 causes to beatification or canonization. Those causes often included large groups of martyrs, so the 39 causes involved more than 150 individuals now honored as blessed or saints.
For years, Father Molinari served simultaneously as president of the Vatican’s College of Postulators, professor of theology at the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome, patient explainer of the canonization process to journalists and adviser to the popes on procedures and causes to promote.
In an interview with Catholic News Service in 1999, he described the saints as “ordinary people living in a way that ordinary people don’t; doing good beyond what good people do.”
He loved Blessed Francisco and Jacinta Marto, the two youngest of the three children who saw Mary at Fatima in 1917. He prepared their causes for beatification so that “all the children of the world can look to them for inspiration.” Forced to retire when he turned 80, Father Molinari said, “thank God, they let me keep Kateri,” the Native American whose cause he began working on in 1957 and who was canonized in 2012.
“Kateri lived 300 years ago and yet she is widely remembered with love and admiration to the point that people believe she is certainly with God because of the way in which, as an Indian woman, she opened herself to the grace of God, became a Christian and lived as a Christian,” he said a few months before her canonization. He believed that the devotion of the faithful to a holy man or woman was the most important indication that the person was a saint. “If the simple people are drawn to someone, this is a sign of God for us,” he told CNS. The saints “are attractive because God is working in them and telling us something through them.”
Born Jan. 17, 1924, he entered the Jesuits in 1942 and was ordained to the priesthood in 1953.
Copyright (c) 2014 Catholic News Service/U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops
Here below is the full text in English of Pope Francis’ homily at the mass of Canonization of Pope John Paul II and Pope John XXIII:
At the heart of this Sunday, which concludes the Octave of Easter and which John Paul II wished to dedicate to Divine Mercy, are the glorious wounds of the risen Jesus.
He had already shown those wounds when he first appeared to the Apostles on the very evening of that day following the Sabbath, the day of the resurrection. But Thomas was not there that evening, and when the others told him that they had seen the Lord, he replied that unless he himself saw and touched those wounds, he would not believe. A week later, Jesus appeared once more to the disciples gathered in the Upper Room, and Thomas was present; Jesus turned to him and told him to touch his wounds. Whereupon that man, so straightforward and accustomed to testing everything personally, knelt before Jesus with the words: “My Lord and my God!” (Jn 20:28).
The wounds of Jesus are a scandal, a stumbling block for faith, yet they are also the test of faith. That is why on the body of the risen Christ the wounds never pass away: they remain, for those wounds are the enduring sign of God’s love for us. They are essential for believing in God. Not for believing that God exists, but for believing that God is love, mercy and faithfulness. Saint Peter, quoting Isaiah, writes to Christians: “by his wounds you have been healed” (1 Pet 2:24, cf. Is 53:5).
John XXIII and John Paul II were not afraid to look upon the wounds of Jesus, to touch his torn hands and his pierced side. They were not ashamed of the flesh of Christ, they were not scandalized by him, by his cross; they did not despise the flesh of their brother (cf. Is 58:7), because they saw Jesus in every person who suffers and struggles. These were two men of courage, filled with the parrhesia of the Holy Spirit, and they bore witness before the Church and the world to God’s goodness and mercy.
They were priests, bishops and popes of the twentieth century. They lived through the tragic events of that century, but they were not overwhelmed by them. For them, God was more powerful; faith was more powerful – faith in Jesus Christ the Redeemer of man and the Lord of history; the mercy of God, shown by those five wounds, was more powerful; and more powerful too was the closeness of Mary our Mother.
In these two men, who looked upon the wounds of Christ and bore witness to his mercy, there dwelt a living hope and an indescribable and glorious joy (1 Pet 1:3,8). The hope and the joy which the risen Christ bestows on his disciples, the hope and the joy which nothing and no one can take from them. The hope and joy of Easter, forged in the crucible of self-denial, self-emptying, utter identification with sinners, even to the point of disgust at the bitterness of that chalice. Such were the hope and the joy which these two holy popes had received as a gift from the risen Lord and which they in turn bestowed in abundance upon the People of God, meriting our eternal gratitude.
This hope and this joy were palpable in the earliest community of believers, in Jerusalem, as we read in the Acts of the Apostles (cf. 2:42-47). It was a community which lived the heart of the Gospel, love and mercy, in simplicity and fraternity.
This is also the image of the Church which the Second Vatican Council set before us. John XXIII and John Paul II cooperated with the Holy Spirit in renewing and updating the Church in keeping with her pristine features, those features which the saints have given her throughout the centuries. Let us not forget that it is the saints who give direction and growth to the Church. In convening the Council, John XXIII showed an exquisite openness to the Holy Spirit. He let himself be led and he was for the Church a pastor, a servant-leader. This was his great service to the Church; he was the pope of openness to the Spirit.
In his own service to the People of God, John Paul II was the pope of the family. He himself once said that he wanted to be remembered as the pope of the family. I am particularly happy to point this out as we are in the process of journeying with families towards the Synod on the family. It is surely a journey which, from his place in heaven, he guides and sustains.
May these two new saints and shepherds of God’s people intercede for the Church, so that during this two-year journey toward the Synod she may be open to the Holy Spirit in pastoral service to the family. May both of them teach us not to be scandalized by the wounds of Christ and to enter ever more deeply into the mystery of divine mercy, which always hopes and always forgives, because it always loves.
Good Friday – Friday, April 18, 2014
For our Good Friday Reflection this year, and in preparation for the Canonization of Blessed Pope John Paul II next Sunday, April 27, 2014, I have chosen to share with you the this reflection on what Pope John Paul II taught us at the end of his life. I cannot celebrate Good Friday without remembering Pope John Paul II, especially his final Good Friday on earth in 2005. This reflection is part of a major address I gave at the Knights of Columbus Museum in New Haven, Connecticut, for the opening of the special exhibit, “Blessed,” that commemorates the life of this great man.
On Human Suffering
One of the beautiful and not frequently cited writings of John Paul II was his 1984 apostolic letter Salvifici Doloris, “On the Christian Meaning of Human Suffering.” The late Pope, following the Apostle Paul and the entire Catholic Tradition, maintained throughout his life that it is precisely in suffering that Christ displayed his solidarity with humanity, and in which we can grow in solidarity with Christ, who is our life.
In Salvifici Doloris suffering is the consequence of sin, and Christ embraces that consequence, rather than repudiating it. By embracing suffering, he shares fully in it, he takes the consequence of sin into and onto himself. He does this out of love for us, not simply because he wants to redeem us, but because he wants to be with us, to share what we share, to experience what we experience. And it is this shared love, this shared suffering in love, which completes and perfects the relationship broken in sin, and so redeems us.
Pope John Paul II taught us that the meaning of suffering is fundamentally changed by the Incarnation. Apart from the Incarnation, suffering is the consequence of sin. It offers opportunities for insight into oneself, for personal growth, and for demonstrating practical love for others, but these are incidental. Because of the Incarnation, however, we become sharers in the Body of Christ. Our suffering becomes his suffering, and becomes an expression of redeeming love.
Because he was the leader of a billion Roman Catholics; because he was the first pontiff of the satellite and Internet age, reaching out to billions more, and because he was John Paul II, who has ruled the church for more than 26 years—in that public experience of suffering was found enormous power. And that he certainly knew. In 1981, after recovering from the gunshot wound that almost took his life in St. Peter’s Square, John Paul declared that suffering, as such, is one of the most powerful messages in Christianity.
During the final years of his pontificate, John Paul II brought suffering back into the realm of the expected in human life. Everyone could see that his spirituality gave him an inner strength – a spirituality with which one can also overcome fear, even the fear of death. What an incredible lesson for the world! His struggle with the physical effects of aging was also a valuable lesson to a society that finds it hard to accept growing older, and a culture that sees no redemption in suffering.
In 1994, as age and infirmity began to incapacitate John Paul publicly, he told his followers he had heard God and was about to change the way he led the church. “I must lead her with suffering,” he said. “The pope must suffer so that every family and the world should see that there is, I would say, a higher gospel: the gospel of suffering, with which one must prepare the future.”
A consoling letter to his peers
In 1999, in preparation for the Great Jubilee, Pope John Paul II published his “Letter to the Elderly.” Following his Letters to the young in 1985, to families in 1994, to children in 1994, to women in 1995 and to artists in 1999 year – and not counting those Letters that he wrote each year to priests on Holy Thursday, since the beginning of his pontificate, he wrote deeply moving and encouraging words to his peers in the Letter to the Elderly. He had no fear in placing before the eyes of the world the limits and frailties that the years placed upon him. He did nothing to disguise them. In speaking to young people, he has no difficulty in saying of himself: ‘I am an old priest’.” John Paul II “continued to fulfill his mission as the Successor of Peter, looking far ahead with the enthusiasm of the only youth that does not deteriorate, that of the spirit, which this Pope maintains intact. The letter had a very personal, almost confidential, tone and was not an analysis of old age. Rather, it was a very intimate dialogue between people of the same generation.
“The passage of time,” wrote the Pope in that memorable letter, “helps us to see our experiences in a clearer light and softens their painful side.” Moreover, he says, the daily difficulties can be eased with God’s help. In addition, “we are consoled by the thought that, by virtue of our spiritual souls, we will survive beyond death.”
“Guardians of shared memory” was the title of the one part of the Pope’s Letter. Pointing out that “in the past, great respect was shown to the elderly,” the Pope remarks that this is still true in many cultures today, “while among others, this is much less the case, due to a mentality which gives priority to immediate human usefulness and productivity.” He wrote: “It has come to the point where euthanasia is increasingly put forward as a solution for difficult situations. Unfortunately, in recent years the idea of euthanasia has lost for many people the sense of horror which it naturally awakens in those who have a sense of respect for life.”
The Pope added: “Here it should be kept in mind that the moral law allows the rejection of ‘aggressive medical treatment’ and makes obligatory only those forms of treatment which fall within the normal requirements of medical care, which in the case of terminal illness seeks primarily to alleviate pain. But euthanasia, understood as directly causing death, is another thing entirely. Regardless of intentions and circumstances, euthanasia is always an intrinsically evil act, a violation of God’s law and an offense against the dignity of the human person.”
Pope John Paul II continued in that letter: “Man has been made for life, whereas death … was not a part of God’s original plan but came about as a consequence of sin.” “However rationally comprehensible death may be from a biological standpoint, it is not possible to experience it as something ‘natural’.” We ask ourselves, he says here, “What is on the other side of the shadowy wall of death?” The answer comes from faith “which illuminates the mystery of death and brings serenity to old age, now no longer lived passively as the expectation of a calamity, but rather as a promise-filled approach to the goal of full maturity.”
Pope John Paul’s Letter to the Elderly closed with a section entitled “An encouragement to live life to the full.” He writes: “I feel a spontaneous desire to share fully with you my own feelings at this point of my life, after more than twenty years of ministry on the throne of Peter. … Despite the limitations brought on by age I continue to enjoy life. For this I thank the Lord. It is wonderful to be able to give oneself to the very end for the sake of the Kingdom of God! “At the same time,” he concludes, “I find great peace in thinking about the time when the Lord will call me: from life to life! … ‘Bid me to come to you': this is the deepest yearning of the human heart, even in those who are not conscious of it.” What a magnificent signature piece of Pope John Paul II! He not only wrote the letter but enacted it in his own life. We were eyewitnesses.
The public suffering
Pope John Paul II taught us that life is sacred, no matter how painful his own life became for him. Rather than hide his infirmities, as most public figures do, Pope John Paul II let the whole world see what he went through. The suffering and dying of this Pope did not take place in private, but before television cameras and the whole world. In the final act of his life, the athlete was immobilized, the distinctive, booming voice silenced, and the hand that produced voluminous encyclicals no longer able to write. John Paul II’s final homily was an icon of his Galilean Master’s final words to Simon Peter: “Very truly, I tell you, when you were younger, you used to fasten your own belt and to go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go.” …After this he [Jesus] said to him, “Follow me” [John 21:18-19].
Many Catholics and non-Christians saw the pope’s suffering as something like the agony of Jesus himself, and neither John Paul nor those around him discourage such comparisons. When asked a few years ago if he might consider resigning, John Paul reportedly asked, in reply, “Did Christ come down from the cross?” His close aides say that debate about his ability to administer the church, as if he were the CEO of a secular corporation, essentially misses the point. This pope is not doing a job, he is carrying out a divine mission, and his pain is at its core.
That final Good Friday evening
One of my most vivid memories from the last week of our late Holy Father Pope John Paul II’s life was during the Way of the Cross on Good Friday evening in 2005, in which he participated by watching the service at the Coliseum in his chapel on television. The television camera in his chapel was behind him so that he would not be distracted from taking part in this ceremony in which he always took part personally. Then-Archbishop John Foley was doing the television commentary in English from Rome, reading the very provocative meditations prepared by a certain Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger.
At one point toward the end of the Way of the Cross, someone put a rather large crucifix on the knee of the Holy Father, and he was gazing lovingly at the figure of Jesus. At the words, “Jesus Dies on the Cross,” Pope John Paul drew the crucifix to himself and embraced it. I will never forget that scene. What an incredibly powerful homily without words! Like Jesus, Pope John Paul II embraced the cross; in fact, he embraced the crucifix of Jesus Christ on Good Friday night.
The death of a patriarch
Several hours before his death, Pope John Paul’s last audible words were: “Let me go to the house of the Father.” In the intimate setting of prayer, as Mass was celebrated at the foot of his bed and the throngs of faithful sang below in St. Peter’s Square, he died at 9:37 p.m. on April 2. Through his public passion, suffering and death, this holy priest, Successor of the Apostles, and Servant of God, showed us the suffering face of Jesus in a remarkable way.
The Pope of Holiness
Karol Wojtyla himself was an extraordinary witness who, through his devotion, heroic efforts, long suffering and death, communicated the powerful message of the Gospel to the men and women of our day. A great part of the success of his message is due to the fact that he has been surrounded by a tremendous cloud of witnesses who stood by him and strengthened him throughout his life. For John Paul II, the call to holiness excludes no one; it is not the privilege of a spiritual elite.
“Lumen Gentium,” the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church of the Second Vatican Council notes that the holiness of Christians flows from that of the Church and manifests it. It says that holiness “is expressed in many ways by the individuals who, each in his own state of life, tend to the perfection of love, thus sanctifying others” (LG 39). In this variety “one and the same holiness is cultivated by all, who are moved by the Spirit of God…and follow the poor Christ, the humble and cross bearing Christ in order to be worthy of being sharers in his glory” (LG 41).
When the throngs of people began chanting “Santo Subito” at the end of the Pope’s funeral mass on April 8, 2005, what were they really chanting? They were crying out that in Karol Wojtyla, they saw someone who lived with God and lived with us. He was a sinner who experienced God’s mercy and forgiveness. He was the prophetic teacher who preached the word in season and out of season. He looked at us, loved us, touched us, healed us and gave us hope. He taught us not to be afraid. He showed us how to live, how to love, how to forgive and how to die. He taught us how to embrace the cross in the most excruciating moments of life, knowing that the cross was not God’s final answer.
That a person is declared a “Saint” is not a statement about perfection. It does not mean that the person was without imperfection, blindness, deafness or sin. Nor is it a 360-degree evaluation of the Pontificate or of the Vatican. Canonization means that a person lived his or her life with God, relying totally on God’s infinite mercy, going forward with God’s strength and power, believing in the impossible, loving one’s enemies and persecutors, forgiving in the midst of evil and violence, hoping beyond all hope, and leaving the world a better place. That person lets those around him know that there is a force or spirit animating his or her life that is not of this world, but the next. Such a person lets us catch a glimpse of the greatness and holiness to which we are all called, and shows us the face of God as we journey on our pilgrim way on earth.
In the life of Karol Wojtyla, the boy from Wadowice who would grow up to be a priest and Bishop of Krakow, the Bishop of Rome, and a hero for the ages, holiness was contagious. We have all been touched and changed by it. Pope John Paul II was not only “Holy Father” but “a Father who was and is Holy.” At his funeral mass on April 8, 2005, Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger told the world that the Holy Father was watching us and blessing us “from the window of the Father’s House.”
As we prepare for the Canonization of this great shepherd and holy priest and bishop on Sunday April 27, 2014, may we learn from “Papa Wojtyla” how to cross thresholds, open doors, build bridges, embrace the Cross of suffering and proclaim the Gospel of Life to the people of our time. May we learn how to live, to suffer and die unto the Lord. Let us pray to have a small portion of the fidelity of Peter’s witness and the boldness of Paul’s proclamation that were so mightily present in Karol Wojtyla – Saint John Paul II. May he intercede for us and for all those who suffer in body and spirit, and give us the desire to help carry one another’s crosses, to grow in holiness and to become saints.
[The readings for Good Friday are: Isaiah 52:13-53:12; Hebrews 4:14-16, 5:7-9; and John 18:1-19:42.]
This reflection first appeared on the Zenit International News Service in 2011 as well as on the Salt + Light Blog. The complete collection of reflections for Year B, entitled “Words made Flesh,” is now available in book form through our online store. Book editions for Year A and C reflections are coming soon.
Sister Marianne Cope (formerly Barbara Koob) was born January 23, 1838 and baptized the following day in what is now Hessen, West Germany. The young Sister Marianne worked as a teacher and hospital administrator in New York. In 1870, she was elected superior of St. Joseph’s Hospital in Syracuse. Seven years later she became second Mother Provincial of her order. Just when it seemed that her religious life was planned out, in 1883 she received an unexpected invitation from Fr. Leonor Fouesnel, emissary of the Hawaiian government, to come and help the “afflicted members” of the Kingdom of Hawaii.
She left for Hawaii with six sisters in 1883, planning to get them settled and then return to Syracuse. She ended up spending the rest of her life in Hawaii. After five years managing a hospital in Honolulu, she volunteered to go to Molokai, an isolated peninsula at the base of enormous cliffs to which lepers were condemned for the rest of their days. According to witnesses, Molokai at the time was something like a combination of a graveyard and a prison. The stench was so vile that even Fr. Damien had to smoke a pipe to keep from vomiting.
By frequent hand-washing, keeping the convent off-limits to lepers and refusing food prepared by lepers, Mother Marianne and her sisters managed to spend decades ministering to the physical and emotional needs of lepers in close quarters without ever becoming infected.
The life of Mother Marianne complements the life of St. Damien (1840-1889), beloved for his self-sacrifice for the lepers of Hawaii to the point of contracting the disease himself. Mother Marianne, for her part, decided from the outset to observe certain basic rules to protect herself and her Franciscan sisters from leprosy. She spent the last 30 years of her life ministering on the Hawaiian island of Molokai, working closely with Father Damien and with the outcasts of society as they were abandoned on the shores of the island, never to return to their families. After Fr. Damien had died, Mother Marianne took charge of the refuge had had built for boys. She was about 50 years old when her mission at Molokai began. She died at 80 years old on August 9, 1918 from kidney and heart disease. At her death, a Honolulu newspaper wrote: “Seldom has the opportunity come to a woman to devote every hour of 30 years to the mothering of people isolated by law from the rest of the world. She risked her own life all that time, faced everything with unflinching courage, and was known for her gentle smile.
People of all religions of the islands still honor and revere Father Damien, now St. Damien, and Mother Marianne who brought healing to body and soul. She was beatified at the Vatican on May 14, 2005, one month after the death of Pope John Paul II. With her canonization by Pope Benedict on October 21, 2012 her life is held up before the world as true model of holiness and friend of God.
Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception – December 9, 2013
This year, the Feast of the Immaculate Conception will be celebrated on Monday, December 9 due to the fact that December 8 was an Advent Sunday this year.
On December 8, the Church celebrates the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. The Catholic belief that Mary was free from original sin from the moment of her existence was promulgated by Pope Pius IX in 1854.
While Marian devotion remains strong in the church, the Immaculate Conception is a complex concept that has interested theologians more than the ordinary faithful. Many people still wrongly assume that the Immaculate Conception refers to the conception of Christ. In fact, it refers to the belief that Mary, by special divine favor, was without sin from the moment she was conceived. The main stumbling block for many Catholics is original sin. Today we are simply less and less aware of original sin. And without that awareness, the Immaculate Conception makes no sense.
The late American Bishop Fulton Sheen put it another way in 1974, speaking about the loss of the sense of sin. Sheen said: “It used to be that the Catholics were the only ones to believe in the Immaculate Conception. Now everyone believes he is the immaculately conceived.”
Pope Pius IX proclaimed the dogma in 1854, but the idea that Mary was born without the stain of sin did not appear out of the blue. It took shape after a long and complicated theological debate that, in some respects, still continues. Already in the earliest Christian times Mary was held to be an ideal model of holiness, and by the eighth century Eastern Christians were celebrating a feast in honor of Mary’s conception. [Read more...]
Edith Stein, the youngest of eleven children of a devout Jewish family, was born in Wroclaw, Poland, on October 12, 1891. Following the death of her father when she was only 21 months old, Edith was raised by her mother, who carried on the family business, along with her sisters. Edith eventually grew up to be counted among a small group of women to attend university when she enrolled at the University of Breslau in 1911, and later transferring to the University of Gottingen to pursue her studies under the mentorship of the renowned founder of phenomenology, Edmund Husserl. Husserl eventually chose Edith Stein to be his teaching assistant at the University of Freiburg, and called her the best doctoral student he ever had – even more able than Heidegger who was also a pupil of Husserl’s at the same time Edith was. In 1916 Edith completed her doctoral dissertation and was awarded a Doctor of Philosophy degree summa cum laude.
As the draft began calling up many of her friends for service in World War I, Edith volunteered together with a number of other women students for duty in military hospitals. She requested an assignment in a hospital for infectious diseases, and lovingly cared for soldiers of the Austrian Army who were suffering from typhus, dysentery and cholera. On completion of her term as a volunteer at the military hospital, Edith was awarded the medal of valor in recognition of her selfless service.
She then became Husserl’s assistant at the University of Freiburg, where he had was promoted to a Full Professorship. It was here that her religious struggle began as, in her pursuit of truth, she turned to reading the New Testament and began her gradual movement back towards a faith which she had earlier abandoned. On January 1, 1922, Edith Stein was baptized a Catholic, taking the name Teresa as her baptismal name. She continued to attend the Synagogue with her mother, praying the psalms of Jewish prayer service.
Following her conversion, Edith discontinued her scholarly career as a student and accepted a position teaching German at the Dominican Sisters’ school in Speyer. For eight years, she worked as a teacher, and balanced her day between work and prayer. Throughout this period, Edith continued her philosophical writings and translations, and took on speaking engagements that took her to cities such as Heidelberg, Zurich, Salzburg. In the course of her lectures she frequently addressed herself to the role and significance of women in contemporary life. Some favorite themes of her public lectures were: “The Separate Vocations of Man and Woman According to God and Nature,” “The Spirituality of Christian Woman,” “Problems of Women’s Education,” and “The Significance of Woman’s Intrinsic Value in National Life.” Edith held a radical feminist stance, manifested a strong commitment to the recognition and advancement of women, and to the value she attached to the mature Christian life of a woman as a source of healing for the world.
In 1931 Edith left the convent school to devote herself full-time to writing and the publication of her works. In 1932, she accepted a lectureship position at the University of Munster, but a year later was told that she would have to give up her position because of her Jewish background. The university administration suggested that she work on her projects privately until the situation in Germany improved, but Edith declined.
Even though she had received an invitation to lecture in South America , Edith became convinced that the time had come for her to fulfill her dream to enter the convent. On October 14, 1933, at age 42, Edith Stein entered the Carmelite Convent in Cologne and took the religious name, Teresa, Benedicta a Cruce – Teresa, Blessed of the Cross, reflecting her special devotion to the Passion of Christ and her gratitude for the spiritual patronage of Teresa of Avila. In the convent, Edith continued to study and write, completing the text of her book, “Finite and Being.” her magnum opus, She also authored “Ways of Knowing God” and “The Symbolic Theology of the Areopagite,” a two-volume translation of St. Thomas’ works while working on “The Science of the Cross.”
By 1938 the situation in Germany had deteriorated significantly, and the S.S. attack of November 8 (Kristallnacht) removed any lingering doubts about the true state of affairs of Jewish citizens. The Carmelite Prioress in the German Carmel arranged for Edith to be transferred to the Dutch convent at Echt, and on December 31, 1938, Edith Stein was driven across the border under the cover of darkness to Holland. There, at the Convent in Echt, Sr. Teresa Benedicta composed three acts of self-oblation, offering her life up for the Jewish people, for peace, and for the sanctification of her Carmelite family. She then settled into a life of teaching the postulants Latin and writing a book on St. John of the Cross. Edith’s sister Rosa had become a Catholic after their mother’s death in 1936, and in 1940 she joined Edith at the Echt Carmel as a Third Order Carmelite.
While the Nazi policy of exterminating Jews was rapidly implemented once Holland was occupied, Jews who professed Christianity were initially left alone. However, when the Catholic bishops in the Netherlands issued a pastoral letter in which they sharply protested against the deportation of the Jews, the Nazi rulers reacted violently by ordering the extermination of baptized Jews as well.
On Sunday, August 2, 1942, all Catholics of Jewish extraction in Holland were rounded up and arrested; two of whom were Edith and Rosa Stein. As neighbors gathered in horror at the door of the convent, they heard these last words of Edith Stein to her sister Rosa as the Nazis took them away: “Come, let us go for our people.” Given an opportunity to be released through her connection to the Catholic Church, Stein faithfully refused saying that Baptism should not be used as an unfair advantage; rather, she needed to share in the fate of her Jewish brothers and sisters.
The night between 3 and 4 August, the prisoners are transported from Amersfoort to the Lager of Westerbork. One of the policemen asked Sister Teresa Benedicta, who had been beaten with a rifle, what religion she belonged to. She answered him: “I’m a Catholic.”
The officer replied: “Not at all, you’re a damned Jew.”
Then the men were separated from the women, husbands from wives, mothers from their children, and any communication was forbidden. It was from the Westerbork Camp that Sr. Teresa Benedicta sent out a last cry for help. She telephoned Utrecht and tried to obtain a temporary stay. She had hoped that the Swiss consulate in Amsterdam could save her save her. Here is the text of a telegram that she enclosed in a letter for the convent at Echt Carmel:
Drente – Westerbork
Barracks 36, 4 August 1942
Dear Mother and dear Sisters,
Tonight we left the distribution center at A. (Amersfoort) and arrived here. We were received kindly. Everything is being done so that we can be freed or at the least be able to stay here. All the Catholics are gathered together here, in our dormitory, all the nuns (two Trappists and a Dominican), Ruth (Kantorowicz), Alice (Reis), Dr. Meirowsky, and others. Two Trappist Fathers are also with us. In any case you must send us our personal papers, our ration cards and bread cards. Up to now we have been sustained entirely by the charity of others. We hope that you have found the (Swiss) Consul’s address and that you have been in contact with him. We have asked numerous people to bring us your news. With us here are also the two nice young girls from Koningsbosch (Anne-Marie and Elfriede Goldschmidt). We are nonetheless calm and content. Clearly until now no Mass or Communion; perhaps that will come later. We are arranging to be able to live only an inner life. With all my heart. We shall certainly write soon.
Yours in corde Jesu,
If you answer, do not mention this letter.
Written on the margin was a cross and the date August 5.
A good number of eyewitness accounts of Edith’s behavior during her days of imprisonment at Amersfoort and Westerbork spoke of her silence, her calm, her composure, her self-possession, her comforting and consoling of other women, her caring for the little ones, washing them and combing their hair and making sure that they were fed. Guards even said that she moved like an angel among those who lived in filth, squalor and unspeakable terror.
The Stein sisters were killed the same day they arrived, August 9, 1942, burned in the open air, and their ashes buried in a common grave or thrown into a nearby pond. Traveling with her, companions in suffering and martyrdom, besides her sister Rose, Carmelite tertiary and doorkeeper at Carmel in Echt, are other acquaintances: Alice Reis, born in Berlin, whom Edith sponsored at baptism; Dr. Ruth Kantorowicz, journalist and librarian, of Hamburg, whom Edith knew since childhood. Ruth wanted to become a Carmelite nun in Maastricht, but was not accepted into the novitiate. She went into the Ursuline convent in Velno as an external helper, where she was captured on August 2 1942.
Teresa Benedicta of the Cross was 51 years old at the time of her martyrdom. Even though her life was snuffed out during the Holocaust, her memory stands as a light undimmed in the midst of evil, darkness, and suffering. She is a symbol of the inherent unity between Jews and Christians. Dedicated to the good of all persons, she represents a moral force for all humanity.
On May 1, 1987, Edith Stein, a Carmelite nun and a victim of the Holocaust at Auschwitz, was beatified, along with Father Rupert Mayer, a Jesuit priest known for his resistance to the Nazis, during a Mass celebrated by Blessed John Paul II in Cologne, Germany.
On October 11, 1998 in St. Peter’s Square, Blessed John Paul II celebrated Mass during which he canonized Blessed Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, discalced Carmelite and martyr. In his homily, he asked that her witness might “reinforce even more the bridge of mutual understanding between Jews and Christians.” John Paul II called her “an eminent daughter of Israel and a faithful daughter of the Church.” He said:
“From now on, as we celebrate the memory of this new saint (every August 9), we cannot fail to remember from year to year the ‘Shoah’ (the Holocaust), that savage plan of exterminating a people, which cost the lives of millions of Jewish brothers and sisters.”
“Sr. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross says to us all: Don’t accept anything as truth if it is without love. And don’t accept anything as love if it is without truth! One without the other is a harmful lie.”
“Many of our contemporaries would want the Cross to be silenced. However, nothing is more eloquent than the Cross made silent! The true message of pain is a lesson of love. Love makes pain bear fruit and pain deepens love.”
On October 1, 1999, Blessed John Paul II declared St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross to be co-patron of Europe, along with St. Bridged of Sweeden and St. Catherine of Siena. John Paul said that together with the two great women, Teresa Benedicta represents that holiness that is for Europe “the secret of its past and the hope for its future.”
“The blood of the martyrs is the seed of Christians…”
Martyrology of Edith Stein and her companions (August 2-9,1942)
Sister Charitas (Resi Bock) teacher
nun of the Sacred Heart of Jesus
Born June 13, 1909 in Vienna
Arrested August 2, 1942 in the Mother House at Moerdijk
Killed August 9, 1942 at Auschwitz
Dr. Lisamaria Meirowsky
pediatrician, Dominican Tertiary
Born September 7, 1904 in Graudenz
Arrested August 2, 1942 in the Trappist Abbey at Berkel-Enschot
Killed August 9, 1942 at Auschwitz
Brother Wolfgang (Fritz Rosenbaum) Franciscan
Born May 27, 1915 in Witten
Arrested August 2,1942 in the Franciscan convent at Woerden
Killed September 30, 1942 at Auschwitz
Alice Reis, nurse
Born September 17 in Berlin
Arrested August 2, 1942 in the Convent of the Good Shepherd Sisters at Almelo
Killed August 9, 1942 at Auschwitz
Father Ignatius (George Löb), Trappist
Born September 25, 1909 at Hoensbroek
Arrested August 2, 1942 in Koningshoeven Abbey near Tilburg
Killed August 19, 1942 at Auschwitz
Sister Maria-Theresia (Door Löb) Trappist
Born October 22, 1911 in Sawah-Loento (Indonesia)
Arrested August 2, 1942 in Koningshoord Abbey at Berkel-Enschot
Killed September 30, 1942 at Auschwitz
Sister Mirjam (Else Michaelis)
accountant, Sister of St. Joseph at Trier
Born March 31, 1899 in Berlin
Arrested August 2, 1942 at the Franciscan convent of Nonnenwerth at Marienwaard
Killed August 9, 1942 at Auschwitz
Sister Judith Mendes da Costa, Dominican
Born August 25, 1895 in Amsterdam
Arrested August 2, 1942 in the convent at Bilthoven, released August 15 from the camp at Westerbork, February 25 1944 deported to Theresienstadt, transported to Auschwitz 16, May 1944
Killed July 7, 1944 at Auschwitz
Rose Stein, Carmelite tertiary, doorkeeper of the convent
Born December 13, 1883 at Lublinitz
Arrested August 2, 1942 in the Carmel convent at Echt
Killed August 9, 1942 at Auschwitz
Dr. Edith Stein – Sister Teresia Benedicta a Cruce
Carmelite nun, philosopher
Born October12, 1891 in Breslau
Arrested August 2, 1942 in the Carmel of Echt
Killed August 9, 1942 at Auschwitz
Father Nivardus (Ernst Löb) Trappist
Born October 29, 1913 in Sawah-Loento (Indonesia)
Arrested August 2, 1942 in Koninshoeven Abbey near Tilburg
Killed August 19, 1942 at Auschwitz
CHALLENGES FACING SWISS CATHOLIC ACADEMIC WOMEN
“…Let’s get to the point: Are we Catholic academics in contact with organized workers, the Swiss Women’s Movement, the Women’s Union, and the Christian Socialists? We are not. Why? Certainly the fault lies on both sides, but it is equally certain it is indeed on both sides. Do we grasp social problems, the burning problems of today? Do they concern us also? Or are we waiting until others find some solution or until we are submerged by the billows of chaos? Is such an attitude worthy of an academic woman? Must we not try to help in deed as well as in thought? I believe this is a theoretical matter primarily in that we should investigate connections and causes so that we may know what help is needed and how to give it. Concretely, we must proceed through Caritas, that means that our love of God must find practical expression. There are manifold ways to fit manifold needs. Let us not be stuck in a rut. We must get in touch with the social ferment of the masses and understand their physical and spiritual needs.
In Cardinal Faulhaber’s commentary on the vesper psalms, he explains the middle verse of the “Magnificat. “He writes: “Who still dares to say that politics has nothing to do with religion and that souls directed towards God, especially women, should stay far from public life? If the quiet virgin of Nazareth, her soul resting completely in God her savior, could be concerned with the happenings on the world scene (middle verse of the Magnificat), then religious people, including women of course, dare not be indifferent as to whether the arm of God is seen in world events. They must not be unconcerned as to whether the God- willed spiritual, political, and economic order is established. Nor may they be unconcerned when dogmatic intellectuals confuse the people with their knowledge when political leaders strike out God’s name from public life, or when capitalistic exploiters are upsetting the economic order. . .”
The example of Mary is relevant here. She is the ideal type of woman who knew how to unite tenderness with power. She stood under the cross. She had previously concerned herself about the human condition, observed it, understood it! In her son’s tragic hour she appeared publicly. Perhaps the moment has almost come for the Catholic woman also to stand with Mary and with the Church under the cross! Concretely: I am not asking the Swiss Catholic academic woman to decide today whether or not woman should take part in public life (it would even be childish presumption to ask for this). But I believe there is something that must be promoted in the name of sound human reason, in the interest of our families, our nation, and our Church. It is that you take an interest in the question, reflect on it, and study it objectively in the light of contemporary development.
…Perhaps through the course of the centuries, our attitude in the Church has been too passive. Perhaps we have left it to exceptional people “to prove the exception to the rule,” people like Teresa of Jesus, Hildegard of Bingen, Catherine of Siena, etc. The twentieth century demands more! I am thinking specifically of the atheistic movement. How can we oppose this phalanx? Pope Pius XI has already sanctioned the lay apostolate; in fact, he has summoned us to it. Should Catholic action stay a catchword and a cliché which resounds through the assemblies but does not ignite?
Do we understand what the so-called Liturgical Movement is all about? It is certainly not about aesthetics. No, it is about a deeper sharing in the life of Christ and witness to it by means of the Church…”
Taken from the works of Edith Stein as published by ICS Publications in the book “The Collected Works of Edith Stein”, Volume II “Essays on Woman”, 1987.
Below is the full text of Pope Francis’ homily during Canonization Mass for three new saints, Sunday May 12 at St. Peter’s Square. Transcription and translation courtesy of Vatican Radio.
Dear brothers and sisters!
In this seventh Sunday of Easter we are gathered to celebrate with joy a feast of holiness. Thanks be to God who has made His glory – the glory of Love – to shine on the Martyrs of Otranto, on Mother Laura Montoya and María Guadalupe García Zavala. I greet all of you who have come to this celebration – from Italy, Colombia, Mexico, from other countries – and I thank you! Let us look on the new saints in the light of the Word of God proclaimed: a Word that invited us to be faithful to Christ, even unto martyrdom; a word that recalled to us the urgency and the beauty of bringing Christ and his Gospel to everyone; a word that spoke to us about the witness of charity, without which even martyrdom and mission lose their Christian savour.
The Acts of the Apostles, when they speak of the Deacon, Stephen, the first martyr, insist on telling us that he was a man “full of the Holy Spirit (6:5, 7:55).” What does this mean? It means that he was full of the love of God, that his whole person, his whole life was animated by the Spirit of the risen Christ, so as to follow Jesus with total fidelity, even unto to the gift of self.
Today the Church proposes for our veneration a host of martyrs, who were called together to the supreme witness to the Gospel in 1480. About eight hundred people, [who], having survived the siege and invasion of Otranto, were beheaded near that city. They refused to renounce their faith and died confessing the risen Christ. Where did they find the strength to remain faithful? Precisely in faith, which allows us to see beyond the limits of our human eyes, beyond the boundaries of earthly life, to contemplate “the heavens opened” – as St. Stephen said – and the living Christ at the right hand of the Father. Dear friends, let us conserve the faith [that] we have received and that is our true treasure, let us renew our fidelity to the Lord, even in the midst of obstacles and misunderstandings; God will never allow us to want [for] strength and serenity. As we venerate the martyrs of Otranto, let us ask God to sustain those many Christians who, in these times and in many parts of the world, right now, still suffer violence, and give them the courage and fidelity to respond to evil with good.
The second idea can be drawn from the words of Jesus that we heard in the Gospel: “I pray for those who will believe in me through their word, that they may be one, as You, Father, are in me and I in thee, that they also may be in us. (Jn 17:20)” Saint Laura Montoya was an instrument of evangelization, first as teacher and then as the spiritual mother of the indigenous peoples, in whom she infused hope, welcoming them with the love [she] learned from God, and bringing them to him with pedagogical efficacy that respected, and was not opposed to, their own culture. In her work of evangelization, Mother Laura became, in the words of St. Paul, truly everything to everyone, (cf. 1 Cor 9:22). Even today her spiritual daughters live and bring the Gospel to the most remote and needy places, as a kind of vanguard of the Church.
This first saint born on the beautiful Colombian soil, teaches us to be generous [together] with God, not to live the faith alone – as if we could live our faith in isolation – but to communicate, to radiate the joy of the Gospel by word and witness of life in every place we find ourselves. She teaches us to see the face of Jesus reflected in the other, to overcome indifference and individualism, welcoming everyone without prejudice or constraints, with love, giving the best of ourselves and above all, sharing with them the most valuable thing we have, which is not our works or our organizations, no: the most valuable thing we have is Christ and his Gospel.
Finally, a third thought. In today’s Gospel, Jesus prays to the Father with these words: “I have made known thy name to them and will make it known: that the love wherewith thou hast loved me may be in them, and I in them. (Jn 17:26)” The martyrs’ faithfulness even unto death, the proclamation of the Gospel are rooted in the love of God that has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit (cf. Rom 5:5), and in the witness we must bear to this love in our daily lives. St. Maria Guadalupe García Zavala knew this well. Giving up a comfortable life – how much damage does the comfortable life, life of comfort, do? The gentrification of the heart paralyzes us – and [she], giving up a comfortable life to follow the call of Jesus, taught people to love poverty, in order the more to love the poor and the sick. Mother Lupita knelt on the floor of the hospital before the sick, before the abandoned, to serve them with tenderness and compassion. This is what it means to touch the flesh of Christ. The poor, the abandoned, the sick, the marginalized are the flesh of Christ. And Mother Lupita touched the flesh of Christ and taught us this conduct: [to be] unabashed,[to be] unafraid, [to be] not loathe to touch the flesh of Christ. Mother Lupita understood what it means “to touch the flesh of Christ.” Today her spiritual daughters also seek to reflect the love of God in works of charity, without sparing sacrifices, and [while] facing with meekness, with apostolic constancy (hypomone), any obstacle.
This new Mexican saint invites us to love as Jesus loved us, and this leads one not to retreat into oneself, into one’s own problems, into one’s own ideas, into one’s own interests in this little world that has done us so much damage, but to get up and go to meet those who need care, understanding and support, to bring the warm closeness of God’s love through gestures of delicacy and sincere affection and love.
Fidelity to Christ and his Gospel, in order to proclaim it in word and deed, bearing witness to God’s love with our love, with our charity toward all: the saints proclaimed today offer shining examples and teachings of these. They also pose questions to our Christian life: how am I faithful to Christ? Let us take this question with us to consider during the day: how am I faithful to Christ? I am able to “show” my faith with respect, but also with courage? Am I attentive to others, do I recognize when someone is in need, do I see in everyone a brother and a sister to love? Let us ask that, by the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary and of the new saints, the Lord might fill our lives with the joy of His love. So be it.