Saturday, November 30, 2024

It's the end of time, liturgically speaking

Well, today the Church marks the end of time. With Evening Prayer today, we usher in a new Year of Grace, a new liturgical year. And so, with the Office of Readings and Morning Prayer, we see out the old.

Understanding the liturgical year is a great aid to spirituality. Observing the different seasons, not just when you go to Mass, but at home and personally, is greatly enlightening.

For example, Advent, the first season of the liturgical year, is almost completely extingushed by our rush to dive in to the "Christmas season." Hence, the Christmas season, properly understood, which only starts on Christmas Day, and (for those of us in the U.S.) extends to the Baptism of the Lord, with its wonderful feasts and observances: St. Stephen, St. John the Evangelist, Holy Innocents, Thomas à Becket, the Twelve Days, etc., goes mostly unobserved, largely due to exhaustion.

While this has died down in recent years, the cries to "Keep Christ in Christmas," starting as they do after Thanksgiving, also ignore the richness of Advent. Observing a season of fasting, abstinence, and penance, a time of deeper and more frequent prayer, in preparation for a major solemnity is a Christian tradition. Many try to say that Advent is not a penitential season. But traditionally, it is. If nothing else, this is highlighted by the liturgical colors (violet and rose, or, if you prefer, purple and pink).

Our Eastern Christian friends, even most of our Eastern Catholic sisters and brothers, observe the Nativity Fast. Keeping Christ in Christmas starts with the observance of Advent, with preparation. In other words, Mass at Christmas is not the after party.



During Advent, when we both look back at the Incarnation of God's Only Begotten Son and look forward to His glorious return, awaiting the light in the darkness, we moderate rather than celebrate. Stated differently, we moderate in preparation to celebrate. This requires us to live contra mundum. Living this way is increasingly alien to Christians. Immersed as we are in the world, in politics particularly (which too many see as a means of salvation and ultimate rather than proximate), we no longer think of ourselves as exiles. And so, adherence to time-tested traditions is often seen as reactionary and so not with it.

During Advent, don't forget the Ember Days associated with Saint Lucy's Day. These are the Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday that come after: 18 December, 20 December, and 21 December.

Even when it comes to Christ's return, we no longer wait with anticipation for that great and dreadful day. Instead, our eschatology does not often extend beyond the fact that someday we'll all die. This despite the fact that Christ's return to judge, yes judge, the living and the dead is credal, dogmatic, de fide. Yes, you may die before the Lord returns. Then again, you may not. We've largely lost our sense of urgency. Observing Advent can help you regain it.

Advent, then, is a time to reflect, to pray, to examine your conscience in light of the Paschal Mystery, which starts with the Son being born into the world and culminates with His return. In light of this, as Christians, we should live vigilantly, waiting in joyful expectation, preparing ourselves and the world for the end of time, when the King will come.

Thursday, November 28, 2024

Being thankful (to God)

Thanksgiving is a nice holiday. I still observe it in what I suppose is now considered to be a rather old-fashioned way. I start by serving at Mass and then proceed home to continue preparing for a feast. After Mass, I strenously avoid going anywhere, unless for a walk. As a matter of fact, I just returned from a walk, my second of the day, having gone on one early this morning before Mass. It's a beautiful day, something for which I am deeply grateful.

Speaking of Mass on Thanksgiving, while today is not one, for some reason, at my paris htoday we celebrated Mass like a solemnity. We sang the Gloria and recited the Creed.

Truth be told, I have a lot for which to be thankful. Being even more honest, I am rarely truly thankful and never as thankful as I should be. Since my fifty-ninth birthday a few weeks ago, I have been thinking back on my life. Doing this makes me thankful. Like most people, I suppose, there were some true crossroads, forks-in-the-road, and even turning points. I believe, looking back, I can see God's hand on my life, not forcing me one way or the other but guiding me to the extent I was open to His guidance.

As Søren Kierkegaard insightfully noted in his Journals and Papers: "Life must be understood backwards; but… it must be lived forwards." Nonetheless, life unrelentingly moves forward. As I get older, life seems to move forward at an accelerting pace.

The Gospel the Church's lectionary provides for Masses in observance of Thanksgiving here in the U.S., is from Saint Luke. This is especially fortuitous this year because Thanksgiving falls just a few days before the First Sunday of Advent. With the advent of the new year of grace, we move from Year B to Year C of the Sunday Lectionary. During Year C, the Gospel According to Saint Luke becomes the Gospel from which we read on Sundays.

As the late New Testament scholar, Fr. Eugene LaVerdiere, S.S.S. beautifully unfolded in his book, published in 2007, Dining in the Kingdom of God: The Origins of Eucharist according to Luke, Luke's Gospel is deeply focused on the Eucharist. It isn't focused on the celebration of the Eucharist, as such. Rather, Luke considers what it means to live eucharistically, that is, thankfully. It is no surprise that this eucharistic focus is beautifully exposited by a member of the Congregation of the Blessed Sacrament (this is what the "S.S.S." after his name indicates), which was founded by the "Apostle of the Eucharist," Saint Peter Julian Eymard. If you're looking for a good and accessible book on Luke's Gospel, I recommend this one very highly!



Today's Gospel today tells of Jesus healing ten lepers. As He walked through Samaria and Galilee on His way to Jerusalem, He heard these men shouting, "Jesus, Master! Have pity on us." Have pity on them He did. Jesus' response was for them to go show themselves to the priests. As they went, they were cured of their leprosy. Therefore, all they needed was for a priest to declare them clean.

At the heart of this pericope is that only one of the ten came back to worship and thank Jesus. When we hear that the one who came back, a Samaritan no less, was "glorifying God in a loud voice," the word "glorifying" is a translation of the Greek word doxazon, the word at the origin of "doxology." The grateful Samaritan, cured of leprosy, worshipped Jesus by thanking him, which in the Greek original found in this passage is euchariston.

These lepers, of course, are stand-ins for you and for me. Sin is a far worse disease than leprosy. Any one of us, recognizing who Jesus is, which requires you to recognize yourself, your need, your deepest desire, couldn't help but cry out, "Jesus, have mercy on me!" In the context of the Eucharist, we do this just before receiving Holy Communion: "Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed." Jesus doesn't just say the healing word. He is the healing Word who, in and through the Eucharist, gives Himself to you.

Our proper response to God's love is, in a word, "Eucharist." Eucharist simply means to give thanks. We give thanks to the Father, through the Son, by the power of the Holy Spirit for the Son and for what God accomplishes in and through Him. Given this, it isn't hard to see how fundamental gratitude is to Christian being, to being a Christian.

Far from being something we only do at Church, Eucharist, thanksgiving, is the mode of Christian life. Given that the law of prayer is the law of belief and that the law of belief is the law of life, we need to take seriously that part of every Preface to the Eucharist Prayer, addressed to the Father, that states plainly- "It is truly right and just, our duty and our salvation, always and everywhere to give you thanks..."

In his book, Gratefulness, The Heart of Prayer: An Approach to Life in Fullness, Br. David Steindl Rast urges: "Look closely and you will find that people are happy because they are grateful. The opposite of gratefulness is just taking everything for granted." Take nothing for granted. Be thankful.

Monday, November 18, 2024

Mem. of the Dedication of the Basilicas of St Peter & St Paul

Readings: Acts 28:11-16.30.31; Psalm 98:1-6; Matthew 14:22-33

The word “apostolic” has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? For Christians, all of whom use it in reference to the Church when saying the Creed, it is a crucial word. While being apostolic can’t be reduced to apostolic succession, apostolic succession isn’t just vital, it is necessary for the Church, if she js to be the Church of Christ, if she is to be fully apostolic.

It bears noting that there is no higher sacramental office in the Church of Christ than bishop. As successors of the apostles, each bishop, particularly those who are ordinaries, that is, those who head dioceses, which are local churches, enjoys the fullness of the sacrament of orders. Episcopal ministry has a threefold munera: to teach, to govern, and to sanctify.

Priests and deacons receive their authority to minister from their bishop or, if not a member of the clergy of a diocese, then from the bishop in whose jurisdiction they serve. For those of us who are diocesan clergy, it is no exaggeration to say that our ministries are extensions of the bishop’s apostolic ministry.

As our reading from the Acts of the Apostles, which tells of Paul’s arrival in Rome as a prisoner, apostolic succession centers in Rome, the imperial capital of ancient world. The pope holds his office by virtue of being the Bishop of Rome. Rome being the “See” of the Apostles Peter & Paul. Because all the sees subject to Rome are suburbican (i.e., they are Roman suburbs), Rome is designated a diocese and not an archdiocese.

Saint Peter's Basilica


Today, the Church celebrates the dedication of two Roman Basilicas: Saint Peter’s in the Vatican and Saint Paul Outside the Walls. Believe it or not, Saint Peter’s in not the Mother Church of Christendom because it is not the Bishop of Rome’s cathedral. Saint John Lateran, the dedication of which the Church celebrates each year on 9 November, is the Cathedral of the Bishop of Rome, where his cathedra, or chair, can be found. Unlike today’s observance, which is an optional memorial, the Church’s celebration of the Dedication of Saint John Lateran is a universal feast.

Both the Basilicas are built over the tombs of their namesake. Saint Peter was crucified in Rome during the persecution of the Emperor Nero in AD 64. Saint Paul, being a Roman citizen, was beheaded in Rome sometime between AD 62-67. If you remember, Paul used his prerogative as a Roman citizen to appeal his case to the emperor, despite a good likelihood of being acquitted. Fully believing he would be exonerated, Paul, as his Letter to the Romans indicates, was planning to evangelize westward from Rome.

As Church father Tertullian observed: the blood of martyrs is the seed of the Church. Rome is proof of this. While the pope is the successor of Peter, who is revered as the first Bishop of Rome, the papacy has a missionary aspect, which is its Pauline. dimension. It wasn’t really until modern times, until the papacy of the aptly named Pope Paul VI, that popes really began to travel around the world. This is an important part of the papal office, which is why popes go to such great lengths to do it.

Basilica of Saint Paul Outside the Walls


Whether we’re talking about Peter or Paul we’re talking about evangelization, about spreading the Gospel, the Good News that is Jesus Christ. More than a program, evangelization is about telling others what Jesus has done for you, what difference knowing Jesus makes in your life. To mistake apologetics for evangelization is to risk addressing questions no one is asking, or to reduce an encounter to a formula.

As he was sinking in waters of the Sea of Galilee, Peter called out “Lord, save me” and “Immediately,” without hesitation, the Lord “stretched out his hand and caught him.”1

In his Letter to the Romans, it was Paul the prisoner who wrote:
What will separate us from the love of Christ? Will anguish, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or the sword?2
This brings us to the other dimension of what it means for the Church to be apostolic. An apostle is one who is sent. In a Christian context, it is one who is sent to testify about Jesus Christ. You can’t testify to an experience you have never had.

Both Peter and Paul had direct encounters with the Risen Lord. Their apostolic ministries, therefore, are about proclaiming that Jesus is Lord. At the end of Mass, this is what you are sent to do.


1 Matthew 14:30-31.
2 Romans 8:35.

Sunday, November 17, 2024

Year B Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: Daniel 12:1-3; Psalm 16:5.8-11; Hebrews 10:11-14.18; Mark 13:24-32

Today is the penultimate Sunday of this liturgical year. I admit, I’ve been looking forward to using the word “penultimate,” all week. Along with “juxtapose,” it is a word I love finding occasions to use.

The Book of Daniel, from which our first reading is taken, is an apocalyptic book. As such, it is fitting to read from it as the Church year ends. At the end of each year, the Church looks forward to the end of time, not to the end of the world, but to the end of the world as we know it. This reading looks forward to the resurrection of the dead.

Our reading from Daniel makes mention of Michael. Calling him “the great prince and guardian of [God’s] people.”1 This is a reference to none other than Saint Michael the archangel. We do not speak about angels very much. I suspect this is due, at least in part, to how angels are often depicted: as chubby toddlers. Hence, it seems childish, superstitious, or perhaps even downright silly to some.

Nonetheless, “the whole life of the Church benefits from the mysterious and powerful help of angels.”2 For example, the Sanctus, an ordinary part of the Mass, which is sung or recited at every Mass, begins Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus… (i.e., Holy, holy, holy), is the song of angels. By singing or reciting the Sanctus, we join the choirs of angels in praising God.

We profess in both the Nicene and Apostles Creeds our belief that Jesus Christ will return in glory to judge the living and dead. Like angels, we do not pay much attention to this dogmatic belief. As Christians, we need to live our lives in joyful expectation of that day when God will make good on all His promises, which is the source of all true hope.

In our Gospel, Jesus teaches his closest disciples about His return. He, too, mentions angels, saying He will send them forth to “gather his elect from the four winds, from the end of the earth to the end of the sky.”3 In light of this aspect of divine revelation, we need to mightily resist the stripping away of the great mystery of creation and redemption and the reduction of Christianity to a this-worldly, utopian project that simply bids one to “Be nice.”

As C.S. Lewis observed:
But we must not suppose that even if we succeeded in making everyone nice we should have saved their souls. A world of nice people, content in their own niceness, looking no further, turned away from God, would be just as desperately in need of salvation as a miserable world-and might even be more difficult to save4
I could go into the distinctions between being nice and being kind and between being kind and being charitable. Don’t get me wrong, being nice, at least when used as a synonym for being kind, matters. As Maj. Frank Burns quipped: “It’s nice to be nice to the nice.” But being nice, even in this way, isn’t everything. I think I could lack faith and still manage to be nice.

No one knows when the Lord will return. According to Jesus, not only do the angels not know the day or hour of His return, but even He, at least during his earthly sojourn, did not know. This is why, as that great Christian spiritual master, Metropolitan Anthony Bloom, insisted that for Christians, every day is judgement day.



“Epiphany” is a word frequently used in the New Testament to refer to the Lord’s return. An epiphany is a sudden occurrence, realization, or revelation. If today’s Gospel is to be believed, Christ’s sudden appearance will happen after a time of great tribulation. Remember All Saints when we read from the book of Revelation? Specifically, to when the elder tells the revelator that those wearing white robes and holding palm branches who surrounded the Lamb and praised Him are those “who have survived the time of great distress; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.”5

There is a reason in the Salve Regina that we refer to this life as hac lacrimarum valle- this valley of tears and to ourselves as exsules filii Hevæ, - Eve’s “poor, banished children.” Like all who have come before us, we live in a time of great distress.

Our reading from Hebrews mentions those who are being consecrated. Note that this is in the present active tense. So, it does not refer to those who have been consecrated. It is about those who are, even now, being consecrated. Primarily, to be consecrated means to be set apart for a purpose. Theologically, the purpose for which one is set apart is God’s purpose. And God’s purpose is the redemption of the world through Jesus Christ.

In the Rite of Baptism, just prior to making a credal profession of faith, several questions are posed to the person being baptized or, in the case of an infant, to her/his parents and godparents:
Do you renounce sin, as to live in the freedom of the children of God?
Do you renounce the lure of evil, so that sin may have no mastery over you?
Do you renounce Satan, the author and prince of sin?6
These are not rhetorical questions. Furthermore, they presume belief in “all things… invisible” mentioned in the first part of the Nicene Creed. The spiritual or unseen part of creation is real, not fantastic, let alone imaginary. Hence, the sacraments are not antiquated exercises in medieval magic designed to make us feel good in some non-specific way.

A few weeks ago, we celebrated the Rite of Acceptance whereby several adults entered the Church’s Order of Catechumens. At the beginning of the rite, Fr. Andrzej asked those desirous of becoming Catechumens what they asked of God’s Church. They responded by saying “Faith.” He then asked them what faith offers them. They answered by saying “Eternal life.”7 Even as Catholics, we profess that we are saved by grace through faith in Jesus Christ. But as we are taught by scripture: “faith without works is dead.”8

Even after being baptized, we need help. God, in His infinite goodness, in His lovingkindness, gives us help of every kind. For example, as Saint Basil the Great explained: “Beside each believer stands an angel as protector and shepherd leading him to life.”9 Yes, you have a Guardian Angel!

Don’t hesitate to call upon your Guardian Angel. Saint Therese of Lisieux, a Doctor of the Church, gave us this lovely prayer:
My holy Guardian Angel, cover me with your wing. With your fire light the road that I’m taking. Come, direct my steps… help me, I call upon you. Just for today
Let’s not forget the Prayer to Saint Michael, which used to be prayed at the end of every Mass:
Saint Michael the archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil.
May God rebuke him, we humbly pray;
and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host,
by the power of God,
cast into hell Satan and all the evil spirits
who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls
My dear friends in Christ, the only way to survive the time of great distress is to recognize, something C.S. Lewis noted: “Relying on God has to begin all over again every day as if nothing had yet been done.”10 And so, make use of all the means of grace our loving Father has placed at your disposal. As we prayed in our Collect today, “it is full and lasting happiness to serve with constancy the author of all that is good.”11


1 Daniel 12:1.
2 Catechism of the Catholic Church, sec. 334.
3 Mark 13:27.
4 C.S. Lewis. Mere Christianity, Book IV, Chapter 10, “Nice People Or New Men?”
5 Revelation 7:14.
6 Order of Christian Initiation of Adults, sec. 224A: Order of Baptism of Children, For Several Children, sec. 57.
7 Order of Christian Initiation of Adults, sec. 50B.
8 James 2:17.
9 Catechism of the Catholic Church, sec. 336.
10 C.S. Lewis Letters to an American Lady, "A Letter to Mrs. L."
11 Roman Missal, “On Sundays and Weekdays,” Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time.

Monday, November 11, 2024

Memorial of Saint Martin of Tours

Readings: Isaiah 61:1-3; Psalm 89:2-5.21-22.25.27; Matthew 25:31-40

The cultus of Saint Martin of Tours was large, on par with that of the deacon, Saint Francis of Assisi. It remained so for more than a millennium. It only began to diminish in the last century. Born a pagan, Martin, followed in his father’s footsteps and entered military service for the Roman Empire. He was born around the time of the Council of Nicaea, the first ecumenical council, which was convened in AD 325. He became a champion of orthodoxy, vigorously opposing Arianism, which denied Jesus’ full divinity.

Against his parents’ wishes, Martin began to attend church at about the age of 10. In the following years, he became a catechumen. He remained a catechumen for years, entering Roman military service aged 15.

The most famous story about Saint Martin occurred while he was on active military service and still a catechumen. Riding on horseback, he encountered a freezing beggar. Martin cut his long military cloak in half and gave it to the beggar. It is reported that he dreamt that night of seeing Jesus wearing the cloak he gave away. In the dream, while wearing the cloak, Martin heard the Lord say to an angel: “Martin, who is still but a catechumen, clothed me with this robe.”

His encounter with the beggar seems to have been the catalyst for Martin to finally be baptized. While there is no chronology, the main chronicler of his life noted that he remained in military service for two years after being baptized.

Como nota breve: no me fío de los restaurantes mexicanos que no tienen una imagen de San Martín de Tours, al que llaman San Martín caballero, en la área de recepción.

After his baptism, on the eve of a battle, Martin refused to fight, insisting that he was now a “soldier of Christ.” Imprisoned for cowardice, Martin offered to go to the battle lines unarmed. The authorities were inclined to have him do this, but the battle never happened. Shortly afterwards, he left military service.

After leaving military service, Martin became a monk. Prior to being made a bishop, he established several monasteries. Saint Benedict, usually held to be the father of Western monasticism, who lived in the late fifth and early sixth centuries not only greatly admired but was inspired by Saint of Martin of Tours.

Bas relief of Saint Martin of Tours as a British WWI soldier for Westminister Cathedral, London, by Eric Gill, carved 1914-1918


For his time, Martin was a unique saint. As a friend of mine, Father John Montag, a Jesuit, noted several years ago: “St Martin was a hugely significant figure--he sort of redefined sainthood. Before he came along, you pretty much had to be a martyr to be considered a saint.” Father Montag went on to note: “I hope all the soldiers we remember today are inspired by Martin and his humble generosity. We could all use a bit of that!”

Saint Martin of Tours is the Patron Saint of beggars, reformed alcoholics, soldiers, tailors, and, oddly enough, in that lovely Catholic manner, also of winegrowers. Martin Luther, born on 10 November, was named “Martin” in honor of Martin of Tours.

Many Eastern Catholic Churches along with Orthodox Churches observe what is called Saint Philip’s Fast. Also called the Nativity Fast, it is similar to Lent, a penitential season during which one prepares to celebrate the Lord’s Nativity. Traditionally, in certain places in the Western Church, the Feast of Saint Martin ushered in what was called “Martinmas.”

Like Saint Philip’s Fast, Martinmas was a penitential time to prepare for the celebration of Christmas. The post-Mass activities tonight are the kinds of things that belonged to the celebration that preceded the beginning of Martinmas, kind of like a Mardi Gras.

My parents gave me Stephen as my middle name. So, Saint Stephen, who is held by the Church to be one of the first seven deacons from Acts 6, is my patron saint. But, being born on 11 November, I claim the holy bishop Saint Martin of Tours as my co-patron. Given the special connection between a bishop and his deacons, it is a divine arrangement that makes sense to me.

As I urged in a homily a few Sundays ago, make friends with some saints. Ask for their prayers, their intercession, and study their lives. As Fr. Tonino Lasconi, an Italian parish priest and author of several volumes on the renewal of catechesis, observed, “Without the saints, the faith vanishes.” Any form of Christianity that does not venerate the saints is impoverished.

It is no accident that it was on 11/11/1911 at 11:00 AM that the ceasefire that ended World War I occurred. All parties, at least all the European nations, engaged in the war knew that 11 November was the Feast of Saint of Martin Tours, a soldier who, through his encounter with a beggar, became a thoroughgoing man of peace, a man of God, a Christian. As Servant of God Msgr Luigi Giussani insisted: “The true protagonist of history is the beggar: Christ who begs for man’s heart, and man’s heart that begs for Christ.”

It is fitting, too, that we observe Veteran’s Day on Saint Martin’s Day. As General Douglas MacArthur said in his farewell speech before a Joint Session of Congress- “The soldier above all others prays for peace, for it is the soldier who must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.” As a combat veteran myself, this rings true.

In a world that is just as dangerous and war-prone today, a world in which many are dying for lack of peace, in humility, let us ask- Sancte Martine Turonis, ora pro nobis- Saint Martin of Tours, pray for us.

Friday, November 1, 2024

All Saints

Readings: Revelation 7:2-4.9-14; Psalm 24:1-6; 1 John 3:1-3; Matthew 5:1-12a

In the end, when it is all said and done, when Christ returns and judges the living and dead, the Church will only consist of saints. “There is only one sadness,” it has been noted, “that is for us not to be saints.”1 To disbelieve this is to place yourself in in danger of not being included in the white-robed multitude we heard about in our first reading.

How you live today and tomorrow matters. As for the past? Repentance is available. Your priorities are revealed by how you spend your time, not by giving the correct answer in Church by saying what you’re expected to say: “I put God first.” Is this really true? Something to ponder.

How often do you pray? By this I mean, how often do you dedicate time to prayer, to cultivating your relationship with God, through Christ, in the power of the Holy Spirit? A lie from the bowels of hell, one I sometimes even hear repeated by people who profess to be Christians, is that you cannot have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.

Having an ever-deepening personal relationship with Christ is the entire point of the Christian life. Thomas à Kempis’ Imitation of Christ, which is the bestselling book of all-time after the Bible, start-to-finish, it is a dialogue with our Risen Lord. Taking a cue from our Responsorial, do you long to see the Lord’s face, to hear His voice, to be in His presence?

As G.K. Chesterton urged, “Let your religion be less of a theory and more of a love affair.” Love, specifically agape, or self-sacrificing love, is the essence of holiness, of sanctity. It is the beating heart of the life of the Blessed Trinity. How this looks in reality is set forth beautifully in the Beatitudes from our Gospel tonight.

This amounts to being humble, empathetic/sympathetic, meek, merciful, desiring righteousness, committed to seeking peace. Teaching children the Golden Rule (i.e., “Do to others whatever you would have them do to you”2), they typically respond with something like, “If you’re nice to others, they will be nice to you.” But it doesn’t take a lot of experience to realize that this is often not how it works. What’s tough about being a Christian, is you must persist even when kindness isn’t reciprocated.

There is a reason why at the end of this teaching Jesus immediately speaks about persecution. To paraphrase the late theologian, Father Herbert McCabe: “if you don’t love you’re dead, and if you do, they’ll kill you.”3 Far from being pessimistic, this is hopeful.

Hope is not optimism! Nick Cave pointed out that “Unlike cynicism, hopefulness is hard-earned, makes demands upon us and can often feel like the most indefensible and lonely place on Earth.”4 Failure to recognize this is to place yourself in danger of despair.



Optimism means wishing for what you want to happen. Hope means surrendering yourself to God, abandoning yourself to Divine providence, recognizing God’s ways are not our ways and that His will is holy and perfect.5 As in all things that truly matter, Jesus, while in the garden, shows us the way, saying to the Father: “not as I will, but as you will.”6 “Surrender don’t come natural to me,” sang Rich Mullins, “I’d rather fight You for something I don’t really want than take what You give that I need.”7

This is hard because we live in a society that is literally hellbent on control. Because, culturally, being self-determining is the supreme value, surrendering control, strikes most people as crazy. This view is not merely unchristian, it is anti-Christian. It is anti-Christian because being fully committed to your own will is the surest way to evade sainthood.

Something easy to miss in our reading from Revelation is an elder asking the revelator, rhetorically, “Who are these wearing white robes?” Answering his own question, the elder goes on to say: “These are the ones who have survived the time of great distress.”8 It is always the time of great distress until Christ returns.

Our reading from 1 John says we are to become “like” Christ.9 Likeness, it bears noting, is not identity. You will never be Christ! To be children of God through Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit is the greatest gift imaginable. This pales in comparison to what we can become.

Becoming a saint cannot happen accidentally. It requires an intention born of deep desire. Holiness must be your deepest desire. Fourth among the Luminous Mysteries of Our Lady’s Holy Rosary is the Lord’s Transfiguration. The fruit of this mystery is the desire for holiness. We need to pray for this desire because it doesn’t come naturally. Rather, it is supernatural.

Cooperation with the grace given to you in baptism and confirmation as well as each time you make a good confession and receive Holy Communion is vital. While amazing, grace is not magic. Using Holy Communion as an example, it is like good nutrition. What makes certain foods “junk” foods is a lack nutritional value. To be healthy requires you to eat healthy foods. To eat in a healthy way requires intention and effort, not to mention self-denial. Cooperating with God’s grace requires intention and effort.

Finally, make some heavenly friends. Get to know some saints. Ask them to intercede for you. Wear a blessed medal featuring that saint(s). Read their words, study their lives. You don’t have to leap back 2000 years. The Church exists to make saints. There are holy men and women from every age of the Church. The darkest times produce the greatest saints.

Let us heed what Saint Paul wrote in the passage chosen by the Church for the scripture reading for Evening Prayer on this Solemnity:
Since we have these promises, beloved, let us purify ourselves from every defilement of flesh and spirit, and in the fear of God strive to fulfill our consecration perfectly10


1 Alan Morris, OP. “Leon Bloy: A Man for the Modern World,” in Dominica Journal 33 no 2, 119.
2 Matthew 7:12.
3 Terry Eagleton. "Lunging, Flailing, Mispunching."London Review of Books, October 2006.
4 Stephen Colbert Show. 15 August 2024. “Nick Cave On Singing With Johnny Cash And The Joyful, Uplifting Vibe Of His New Album, ‘Wild God’” Timestamp: 21:07-21:52.
5 Isaiah 55:8.
6 Matthew 26:39.
7 Rich Mullins. Song "Hold Me Jesus."
8 Revelation 7:13-14.
9 1 John 3:2.
10 2 Corinthians 7:1.

The Mystery of the Incarnation

Sunset marks the beginning of the Fourth Sunday of Advent. Tonight, we light all the candles! At the Easter Vigil, as the deacon enters the...