Catholic. Pastoral. Trusted.
As we ring in this new year, we are given the opportunity to change our behaviors or attitudes. Catholics, of course, are encouraged to throw themselves wholeheartedly into this practice during Lent. However, counsel from all corners tells us there’s no time like the present to begin. So, too, with...
Spiritual Maturity | Part 3 of 6
“Rejoice in the Lord always. I shall say it again: rejoice!” (Phil 4:4). Saint Paul offers first-century Philippians—and us—a dramatic challenge: Rejoice!
But what if we can’t? What if our road is difficult or dangerous? Would Saint Paul understand what our lives are like today? Won’t we look foolish if we “rejoice in the Lord always”? With problems like earthquakes and wars, trouble close to home, and deception and distrust at work and even among friends and family—will we look like we’re missing something if we rejoice?
Watch TV talk shows, listen to call-in radio programs, or sample blogs on the Internet. Clearly not everyone is rejoicing. We complain. We point fingers. We easily identify trouble all around us. What can we do about real problems?
Healer and Miracle Worker
It was a miracle waiting to happen. In 1966, a medical examination revealed that Angela Boudreaux’s abdomen was swollen to proportions of a six-month pregnancy from a liver nine times normal size. A preliminary biopsy found no liver tissue at all, and exploratory surgery determined that 90 percent of the liver was simply “replaced” by a malignant tumor. A number of pathologists confirmed the findings. Angela, a wife and mother of four young children, was told she had two weeks to live.
At some point on our spiritual journey, the steps get steeper, the passages get narrower, and we run into roadblocks. Jesus, the one who called us to this journey, warned us this would happen: “Strive to enter through the narrow gate” (Lk 13:24a). Growth into spiritual maturity requires serious effort on our behalf. But if we are genuine and spiritual maturity is our goal, can we expect to do anything less?
After the death of his wife, C.S. Lewis reflected on his feelings of grief. “No one ever told me,” he wrote, “that grief felt so like fear.”
It is a frightening turn in life when someone we love is no longer present. When a person with whom we shared a significant loving relationship dies, we miss the security that person gave us—whether as spouse, parent, sibling, or friend—and we miss his or her love. We try to cope and go on, but it can be overwhelming. We can feel stuck, rooted in the time and place when everything altered too quickly.
Saint Gerard has become one of the most beloved saints in the world. Visitors at his shrine in Materdomini, Italy, discover a room dedicated to the miracles attributed to Saint Gerard. Thousands upon thousands of letters, photographs, and gifts of thanksgiving from all over the world recognize Saint Gerard’s powerful intercession.
Note: The articles in this six-part series will explore the traits of spiritual maturity described by Mathew Kessler, CSsR, in his reflection “A Reliable Compass” ("From the Publisher," December 2010).
Spiritual Maturity | Part 1 of 6
In the middle of the night, a man named Nicodemus visited Jesus. Nicodemus was a public leader, a Pharisee, whose world was swirling around him. He told Jesus, “We know that you are a teacher who has come from God”—a bold claim on the heels of Jesus’ recent actions in the Temple. Jesus had just thrown out the merchants with the message, The Kingdom of God is at hand.
In these days of high unemployment, almost no one feels really safe in his or her job. Along with job insecurity, we can feel the vulnerability of what a job loss might mean to our ability to make our mortgage or car payment and ultimately to have financial control over our lives.
Tending Our Temples
Do you not know that you are the temple of god, and that the spirit of god dwells in you?—1 Cor 3:16
What has faith to do with fitness? We might as well ask what has the soul to do with the body. The answer in both cases is “everything”—at least it should! The Catechism of the Catholic Church (355) tells us that God has united the spiritual and material worlds in humanity’s nature. We are made up of both a soul and a body, and together the two form that unique unity that is a human person. We are not merely souls imprisoned in flesh. The body is not something illusory or evil. When God made humanity and all of material creation, he declared his work “very good” (Gn 1:31). What’s more, God took on human nature in the Incarnation, and we are to be resurrected, as Jesus was, in body and soul.
Pope Benedict XVI recognized the mission of the Redemptorists and of Liguori Publications on March 30 in his weekly Wednesday audience. In his recent “catecheses”—short instructions to the faithful—the pope has reflected on the doctors of the Church, one of whom was Saint Alphonsus Liguori. In his audience, the pope examined Alphonsus’ life and legacy.
The Way of the Cross is one of the oldest and most beautiful devotions of our Catholic Faith. How did it begin, and why do we still practice this ancient custom today?
1-R (Gen 14:19); 2-S (Ex 15:20); 3-E (Gen 8:4); 4-X (Gen 42:19–24); 5-K (Gen 5:24);6-J (1 Kings 19:19); 7-I (Gen 30:21); 8-U (Num 12:3); 9-O (Num 20:25–29); 10-T (Gen 22:2); 11-H (1 Kings 18:20–39); 12-P (Ex 3:1–2); 13-D (Gen 2:19); 14-N (Lev 2:11); 15-C (Jn 2:1–11); 16-B (Acts 18:11); 17-Q...
We cannot help but live and think in the context and concept of time. Our language is laced with it, our days are organized by it. We might even feel harassed or oppressed by it. The clock tells us when to get up, when to go to work, to church, or to some social event. It imposes limits on what we can do. Time steadily continues, tick-tick-tick, never missing a beat. The next day or week or year arrives right on schedule.
As I was sitting in prayer one Tuesday morning after spending the previous evening in Urgent Care, I began to wonder what God was trying to tell me. Here I was at home when I should have been attending a three-day meeting with personnel from different retreat centers. It only took me a few seconds to hear God’s message. “Slow down!” God was shouting in that quiet voice only God can use.
Preaching the Word of God has been an essential responsibility of the Church since the time of Saint Paul and the establishment of the first Christian communities. For Catholics today, the homily during Sunday liturgy remains a central moment of encounter with the Word of God. A good homily can be a source of insight and inspiration that can deepen the spiritual life of a congregation. Benedict XVI noted recently that good homilies help to “foster a deeper understanding of the word of God so that it can bear fruit in the lives of the faithful” (Sacramentum Caritatis).
It was a weekly occurrence in our family, and in most families in our parish. My mother would dress us up and take us to church for the weekly devotions to Our Mother of Perpetual Help. Our church of Holy Redeemer in Detroit, Michigan, is a large basilica-style church that seats a thousand people. The icon of Our Mother of Perpetual Help is enshrined on the left side of the church, with its own marble altar surrounded by candles. After devotions, my mother would buy a candle and place it before the icon of Our Mother of Perpetual Help, and we would kneel and spend additional moments in prayer. The beautiful gold, red, and blue colors of the icon sparkled in the flickering candlelight.
One reason for this choice is that Saint Clement, born on December 26, 1751, in central Europe, became a Redemptorist priest, just as I did, so we are “family.” Second, I am presently living in Saint Clement Health Care Center, and I will soon need a benevolent promoter “on the other side.”
So even though we cannot celebrate him liturgically, we can recall some facts of his life that have caused him to be recognized as the “second founder” of the Redemptorists and the patron saint of Vienna.
In the Gospel story of the widow’s mite, Jesus is unimpressed watching the rich put large offerings into the temple treasury. He praises instead the poor widow who put in only two copper coins. "I assure you," he said to his disciples, "this poor widow has put in more than all the rest."
Saint John Neumann reminds me of that poor widow. He was a short, shy, back-country immigrant priest. In the eyes of some he was an unimpressive, awkward little man; but in God’s eyes John was peerless, and his mite was a priceless gift. All that he had and was he willingly offered to God.
Saint Alphonsus’ famous Christmas carol Tu scendi dalle stelle O King of Heaven! from starry throne descending, Thou takest refuge in that wretched cave; O God of bliss! I see Thee cold and trembling, What pain it cost Thee fallen man to save! Thou, of a thousand worlds the great...
Gerard never set foot outside Italy, left no significant writings, and died at age twenty-nine after only six years of religious life. But even in his day, this humble Brother was considered a saint. He was friendly and generous by nature, and his confidence in God’s goodness seemed to give him supernatural influence. One biographer called him "the spoiled child of God" because whatever he asked for in prayer, he got.