Tuesday, October 2 2012

Memorial of the Holy Guardian Angels

(Job 3:1-3.11-17.20-23; Matthew 18:1-5.10)

St. Augustine is famous for saying to his people: "I am fearful of what I am for you, but I draw strength from what I am with you. For you I am a bishop, and with you I am a Christian. The former designates an office received, the latter the foundation of salvation." Obviously, Augustine hardly took his work as a bishop as a privilege; rather, it was an onerous obligation placed upon him. It meant reproving the people when they were thinking erroneously and providing basic resources when they experienced dire need. It would not be unfair to call Augustine’s chores like being a Guardian Angel to his congregation.

Guardian Angels specify God’s love. He takes care of human beings by setting their hearts on the supreme good, which is Himself, and providing the means to sustain themselves physically. In the gospel Jesus speaks of children having angels in heaven charged with these tasks. But that does not exclude the possibility of God extending such personal care to everyone. After all, in a sense all humans are God’s children.

Today we give thanks to God for His constant and unsurpassable love by remembering His instruments, the Guardian Angels. The surety of God’s watching over us should prompt us to take similar care of one another.

Monday, October 1, 2012

Saint Terese of Lisieux, virgin and doctor of the Church

(Job 1:6-22; Luke 9:46-50)

Can it be only coincidence that Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta bears the same name of today’s patron saint? More than likely one of the saintliest women of the twentieth century took the name “Teresa” from the nineteenth century mystic. Mother Teresa is famous for saying, “We can’t do great things, but we can do little things with great love” which reflects perfectly what St. Therese of Lisieux wrote of as her “little way.”

Some may think it easy to practice love in a convent where everyone prays continually. But anyone who has lived in such close quarters knows that kindness and patience is supremely challenged when one faces the same people with their disturbing idiosyncrasies over a period of years. The grace with which Therese bore such difficulty made her a saint, and her perspicacity in relating the development of her soul made her a doctor of the Church.

No life is without irritation and frustration. All of us should ask for the grace to overcome these challenges. The Holy Spirit then fills our hearts with love so that we, like Therese, may become holy.

Friday, September 28, 2012

Friday of the Twenty-fifth Week in Ordinary Time

(Ecclesiastes 3:1-11; Luke 9:18-22)

In the middle of the Cold War a Catholic Navy officer was serving as the Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion on a nuclear submarine. His conscience began to trouble him as he contemplated being part of a missile launching that killed millions of people. He was eventually allowed to resign his commission. Although the stance seems extreme, it is certainly in line with the way Jesus sees himself.

The gospel today shows Jesus asking his disciples whom they think that he is. It is the Lucan rendition of the same scene that appears in the Gospels according to Mark and Matthew. In all cases Peter responds that Jesus is the Christ, the long-awaited Messiah who was to lead the Jews to freedom and dignity among the nations. In Luke, however, Jesus' response is fast and furious. He rebukes all the disciples (Peter is only acting as their spokesman), perhaps telling them to keep such ideas to themselves. As the other gospels in their own way make clear, Jesus does not want to be associated with a warrior-Messiah. He is a man of peace who comes to proclaim God's love, not to whip anyone into shape.

The Church has never forbidden Christians from serving in the military and going to war if necessary. Yet certainly Christian thought and practice is conditioned by Jesus foregoing any identification of a warrior. He is identified in the Scripture as the Prince of Peace. As his faithful servants, we strive to keep the peace and to limit injury in warfare.

Thursday, September 27, 2012

Memorial of Saint Vincent de Paul, priest

(Ecclesiastes 1:2-11; Luke 9:7-9)

It is said that St. Vincent de Paul was largely responsible for France’s overcoming of Jansenism. This seventeenth century heresy has the power to take over one’s soul with its obsession about being saved. Taking its name from a Dutch bishop, proponents of Jansenism would recommend constant confession as a way to avoid eternal fire. St. Vincent, on the other hand, would have the faithful work acts of charity as a demonstration of God’s favor.

Born a peasant, Vincent was ordained a priest at the age of twenty. So obviously talented, he might have pursued a comfortable life with the revenue of a small monastery to which he was appointed chaplain. However, the acquaintance of a cardinal in Paris steered his life in another direction. Rather than enjoying the comforts of the rich, Vincent began visiting prisons and galley ships to comfort prisoners. In time he founded the Congregation of the Mission, priests first known as Lazarists and then as Vincentians, to work among poor country people. He is also responsible for the Daughters of Charity, who have become renowned for their charity.

Today’s gospel comments that King Herod greatly wanted to see Jesus. So would many people throughout the centuries. We have only to turn to saints like Vincent de Paul to catch a glimpse of him.

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Wednesday of the Twenty-fifth Week in Ordinary Time

(Proverbs 30:5-9; Luke 9:1-6)

It was said that a Jesuit novice was once given a unique mission. According to the story, he was given a small sum of money and told to report to a Jesuit house in a faraway place. Evidently, he was expected to hitchhike across the country and, along friends made on the way, to rely on his own resources for a while. The story smacks of hyperbole, but it rings also of the gospel account in today’s mass.

Jesus sends his apostles out with nothing in their pockets “just in case.” Rather, they are to depend completely on Providence working through the townspeople they encounter. Of course, they will offer to the people release from demons, cures of diseases, and the good news of God’s kingdom, but these blessings are not meant as ways to finagle hospitality or to reward it. Rather, they represent God’s favor upon those who accept His grace. Indeed, Jesus indicates that some villagers will likely shut their doors in his apostles’ faces.

The dependency of the apostles upon Providence thrills our consciences like a bugle call. Today in our society most people, including church workers, strive to avert risks. The credit card has long served as a way never to be caught without money. With cellular telephones in emergencies help is only a few pushed buttons away. Other resources like generous insurance policies protect against catastrophes. Although these privileges are often defended as prudential, they may leave us with the disturbing question: What does it mean today to trust in God’s Providence if we are always avoiding risks?