What Wondrous Love Is This: 2024

Day Springs Eternal

One of the O Antiphons during Advent celebrates the oriens, or eastern dawn, coming dayspring. On Dec. 21, the shortest day of the year, we pray, “O Radiant Dawn, splendor of eternal light, sun of justice: come and shine on those who dwell in darkness and in the shadow of death.”

Dayspring is another way of saying dawn. It is the first light. Isaiah prophesied, “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned” (Isaiah 9:2). Then at the birth of John Zechariah prophesied, “And you, child, will be called prophet of the Most High, for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, to give his people knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of their sins,because of the tender mercy of our God by which the daybreak from on high will visit usto shine on those who sit in darkness and death’s shadow, to guide our feet into the path of peace” (Luke 1:76-79).

In an age of electric lights everywhere, it’s difficult to remember the power of light in darkness. It is vision; it is warmth; it is growth. Light means life and renewal.

Regardless of Jesus’ actual birthdate, we celebrate the Light of the World’s arrival at the darkest time of year, because the darkness reminds of the power of light. Even the faint, yellow glow of a winter sunrise illuminates the sky and ushers in the day. As the days grow shorter, we light candles and hang lights. We long for light, for hope, in a darkening world.

And Jesus is that light. He is the dawn, the dayspring, that casts back the darkness and brings warmth and life.

O come, O Bright and Morning Star,
and bring us comfort from afar!
Dispel the shadows of the night
and turn our darkness into light.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Immanuel
shall come to you, O Israel.

Vigilant and Joyful

Advent means coming. It is a season of anticipation and waiting. It points to the future. Regardless of what your life or the world looks like in the present, Advent urges you to look up, look beyond. There is a coming light, a brighter future.

Advent is two-fold in that we are anticipating both for the celebration of the birth of Christ and waiting for His second coming. In the same way, our duty during Advent is two-fold. We are called to be both vigilant and joyful. We must be vigilant, ready to greet the Lord. Like the virgins with oil in their lamps, we must live our lives always prepared for Christ’s arrival. It is not something to schedule in amongst all your other plans and activities; it is the way you live.

But it is not a fearful vigilance. We are also called to be joyful. The Lord has come to us and will come again. Good will conquer evil. Life will conquer death. There is a light in the darkness. There is hope.

Monday Motivation: I Believe

The church choir sang performed this yesterday. Beautiful and poignant.

The lyrics supposedly come from a poem written on the wall of cellar by a Jew in Cologne during World War II.

Sts. Galaction and Episteme

St. Galaction was born in the third century in Emesa, in what is now Syria. His parents were a wealthy couple who had once been pagan. Childless, they converted to Christianity after meeting a travelling preacher who told them that God would hear their prayers and grant them a child. Galaction was conceived and born after their conversion.

He wanted to be monk, but his parents wanted him to marry and inherit the family estate. They betrothed him to Episteme, a pagan from another wealthy family. During their engagement, Galaction visited Episteme; over time he converted her and her servant to Christianity. The couple ran away together to live religious lives. Galaction joined a monastery, and Episteme joined an abbey.

In 251, persecution of Christians rose. Galaction was sentenced to death. When she heard the news, Episteme went to his side and was martyred with him.

Their feast day is Nov. 5

Driving Out Darkness

It's so tiring paying attention these days. The vitriol and hate, the erosion of norms and justice, the desire for others’ pain and suffering. I watch people saying awful slurs, wishing for violence and death, cheering on dictators, holding up fraud, deception, bribery, abuse, torture, and rape as virtues. They are angry and dangerous.

And they rile up anger in me. I want them to recognize the errors of their ways. I want them to stop. I want them to feel the consequences of their dangerous ideas. But I know that I must not give into anger. Anger turns into hate. I cannot give into the same emotional manipulation that causes people to dehumanize their fellow man. Hatred will not cause a change of heart. Hatred will not heal a broken country. You cannot fight darkness with darkness. You cannot fight hate with hate. Anger at injustice can motivate us to work for good, but hatred has no positive purpose.

We are all children of God. We are called to love our neighbors. These are the truths that transcend the current climate and personal struggles. God does not abandon us—He loves us and wants to be reconciled to us. To follow God means to love the hard to love, to desire reconciliation with those who push away or cause division. Love anyway. It’s a simple command, even if it’s not easy.

Monday Motivation: God Is

"One must have faith not because of tradition, or out of fear of death, or 'just in case,' or because one has been ordered to or something frightens one, or out of humanistic principles, or in order to be saved, or for the sake of originality. One must have faith for the simple reason that God is." —Andrey Sinyavsky

Inundated

All the fountains of the great abyss burst forth,
and the floodgates of the sky were opened. – Genesis 7:11

Once in 5,000 years. That was how the flooding was described. Torrents of murky water overflowing banks, rising into homes, pulling along debris from up the mountain. There aren’t supposed to be hurricanes in the mountains. Suddenly, violently, communities cut off, cut down, forever changed.

Water is life-giving. It restores, refreshes, cleansing. We wade in the water to be born again. But there is also danger in the water. At times of disaster, we are reminded that we are part of nature and its forces. Despite our attempts to detach from nature, to totally control our environment, to consume and pollute and destroy and face no consequences, we are not above our place. We are part of God’s creation—we exist in a time and place. We are strong, but not all powerful. How quickly can storm or famine or war arrive and disrupt the stability we built. How swiftly can bridges and power grids and roads wash away. What remains is our human nature—heroic rescues, outpouring charity, compassion, charity, resilience.

Monday Motivation: St. Vincent de Paul

"God allows us to give rise to the practice of two beautiful virtues: perseverance, which leads us to attain the goal, and constancy, which helps us to overcome difficulties."

"Do not limit your vision any longer to yourself, but see the Lord around you and in you, ready to put his hand to the work as soon as you ask for help. You will see that all will go well."

-St. Vincent de Paul

Legend of the Cross

My last post talked about the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross, and its history post-Christ. But there are a lot of legends of the origin of the Cross as well. Most stories developed in the early medieval times to emphasize Christ as the New Adam and the Resurrection has the victory over the Fall.

I’ve been reading the Golden Legend lately, which includes lots of heroic, miraculous heliographies as well as a few stories about the Cross. The Golden Legend was compiled by the Bishop of Genoa, Jacobus de Voragine, in 1260.

In one story, it is said that after Adam died, his son Seth planted three seeds in the mouth of Adam’s corpse. A “tree of mercy” grew from those seeds and was the tree used to make the Cross. Sometimes these seeds are said to have grown three different types of wood, one of which also grew the bush that became the burning bush.

In another story, the Cross came from part of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. As Adam was dying, he sent Seth to the gates of the Garden of Eden to beg God for an oil of mercy distilled from the Tree. Seth found the way by following the footsteps of Adam and Eve, as nothing had grown where they stepped during their expulsion. St. Michael appeared to Seth at the gate and gave him a branch from the Tree. Again, Seth planted this cutting of the tree on Adam’s grave. From this tree came Moses’ staff. David planted it in Jerusalem. Solomon had it cut down to be a beam in the Temple, but it was not found suitable, so the wood was used to build a bridge, over which the Queen of Sheba passed on her journey to meet Solomon. She recognized the importance of the wood used in the timber and fell to her knees along the bridge and revered it. She told Solomon that a piece of that wood would bring about a new covenant of God. Solomon, fearing this revelation, ordered the timber buried. Centuries later, these beams were discovered and used by the Romans to fashion the Cross on which Jesus was crucified.

Today is the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, also called Roodmas. It celebrates the victory won for humanity by God’s sacrificial love. While the cross was a method of torture and execution, for Christians it serves as a reminder of Christ’s abundant love and mercy for us, to the point that he would humble himself, walk with humanity, and die on that Cross. It is also a radical symbol of victory; a method of torture becomes a symbol of love, and a sign of death becomes a sign of resurrection and new life. The Cross has become the symbol for Christianity.

So it shouldn’t be surprising that we seek to know what happened to the actual cross used for Christ’s Passion or that we want to travel and stand in the spot where He stood, where He died.

The Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross actually celebrates several events in the life of the veneration of the True Cross.

The first is the finding of the True Cross by St. Helena. According to legend, Helena, mother of Emperor Constantine, travelled to the Holy Land in her late 70s from 326-328. There, she researched the places and items associated with Jesus. Her work established many of the pilgrimage sites in the Holy Land and relics shared throughout the Christian world. While there, she discovered a hiding place storing three crosses, said by the local community to be the crosses used at the crucifixion of Jesus and the two thieves, Dismas and Gestas. She was unsure of the crosses’ authenticity. The Bishop of Jerusalem knew of a woman near death; when she was brought to the crosses, she touched the first two, and her condition did not change. When she touched the third, she suddenly recovered.

St. Angela of Foligno was born into a wealthy family in Umbria in 1248. She married and had several children. She loved worldly pleasures and often disregarded her duties to her family.

Around the age of 40 she had a vision of St. Francis of Assisi; after this experience, she began to lead a life devoted to God. It is said she continued to have mystical revelations for the rest of her life.

Three years later, Angela lost her mother, husband, and children in the span of a few months. She gave away her possessions and joined the Third Order of St. Francis.

She spent much of her time dictating her spiritual journey and her mystical revelations to a scribe.

Around 1296 Angela began gathering other Franciscan tertiaries who followed her instructions on advancing in holiness. She established a community in Foligno of women tertiaries; along with the Rule of the Third Order, they made a commitment to common life so they could devote themselves to works of charity. The community was not recognized as a religious institute until the 20th century.

During Christmas 1308, Angela had a vision of Christ promising to come personally take her to heaven. She died in her sleep a few days later on Jan. 3, 1309. Her writings and example as a spiritual teacher led to her being called “Teacher of Theologians” by Jesuit theologian Maximilian van der Sandt.

St. Angela of Foligno’s feast day is Jan. 4 (Jan. 7 in the United States). She is a patron of widows and those afflicted with sexual temptation.

Unity of the Universe

"His clothing was bright as snow, and the hair on his head as white as wool; his throne was flames of fire, with wheels of burning fire. A surging stream of fire flowed out from where he sat." ― Daniel 7:9-10

"And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no fuller on earth could bleach them. Then Elijah appeared to them along with Moses, and they were conversing with Jesus." ― Mark 9:2-4

Today is the Feast of the Transfiguration. It is also the Day of Remembrance of the Bombing of Hiroshima. The two seem to have nothing much to do together; in fact, there is a dichotomy. One, the glow of divine brilliance. The other, the blast of human shame.

What exactly happened at the Transfiguration? It defies our understanding of science. What was that white light? How were Moses and Elijah there? It’s frighteningly inexplicable. Yet the witnesses, Peter, James, and John, accept that the miraculous is happening. They believe what they’re seeing, even when what they're seeing is hard to believe.

Monday Motivation: Loving Enemies

“Christian love draws no distinction between one enemy and another, except that the more bitter our enemy's hatred, the greater his need of love. Be his enmity political or religious, he has nothing to expect from a follower of Jesus but unqualified love. In such love there is not inner discord between the private person and official capacity. In both we are disciples of Christ, or we are not Christians at all.” ― Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship

St. Germanus of Auxerre

Germanus was born into a noble family in Gaul in the fourth century. He was well-educated as a child, then as a young man he went to Rome to study law. He practiced civil law in Rome and married a woman, Eustachia, from imperial circles.

The emperor appointed Germanus back to Gaul, where he served a duke entrusted with the Gallic provinces. Germanus resided in Auxerre. He hung his hunting trophies in a certain tree which had once been a site of pagan worship. The local bishop, Amator (who would later be canonized) was enraged, as the hanging of trophies in that way and in that spot resembled a pagan practice. He had the tree cut down and burnt Germanus’ trophies. Fearing the duke and Germanus’ response, he fled to Rome.

After seeking permission from the pope, Bishop Amator returned, tonsured Germanus against his will, and told him to live as one destined to be an ecclesiastical successor. That day he also ordained Germanus a deacon.

St. Botolph was born in East Anglia in the 7th century into a noble Saxon family. He and his brother were educated at a local monastery and then sent to France for further study. There, the brothers became Benedictines.

Botolph’s brother stayed abroad, but Botolph returned to England, where he was permitted to build a monastery in Suffolk around 654. The Icanho monastery was on an island surrounded by tidal marshland, but the monks and hermits drawn to the location turned it into a productive center. Botolph was said to have expelled the swamps of their “devils” – in fact, he probably had the marshes drained for farmland, eliminating the “marsh gas” with its night glow.

On top of being abbot of the monastery, Botolph also served as a missionary in East Anglia, Kent and Sussex

Botolph died around 680. Originally buried at Icanho, his remains were moved in the tenth century after the monastery itself was destroyed in a Danish invasion in 870. Transferred several more times, his relics, along with those of his brother’s, were eventually brought to Thorney Abbey, a Benedictine monastery in Cambridgeshire (though his head wound up in Ely and other body parts in Westminster).

St. Botolph is a patron of boundaries, travel, and farming. The four churches of London close to the city gates were named for him. His feast day in England is June 17.

In This Establishment

It’s been a bleak few weeks. Several large SCOTUS decisions dropped, along news of laws that, I imagine, will be challenged up to the Supreme Court. One in particular is the Oklahoma state superintendent mandating that the Bible be taught in every classroom in grades 5-12. This comes on the heels of Louisiana mandating that the 10 Commandments be displayed in every classroom.

The good faith argument is that the Bible is a historically relevant document, and understanding its contents and influence is important in areas such as literature and civics. Which, I agree. A basic understanding of Christian influence and Bible allusions can be a component of a solid foundation in certain subjects. But the good faith argument falls apart when the law states that it must be taught in every classroom (in math? in health?) and doesn't give specific context on how.

According to the superintendent is the Bible “a necessary historical document to teach our kids about the history of this country, to have a complete understanding of Western civilization.” Yet the U.S. Constitution isn’t required in every class. It's an attempt to create a secular reason for the Bible to be taught in every classroom, thus claiming it's not a First Amendment violation. But what if your civic and religious beliefs are intertwined? In an interview with PBS NewHour, he said that he wanted to fight a “liberal” version of history. So this is really about establishing a version of history that he wants, which is a Christian nationalist one. And that Christianity being established is a specific form: there is a “right,” “government-endorsed” version of religion, and you’re either a “good” Christian falling in line or you’re an enemy attacking the faith.

This week marked the second anniversary of the overturning of Roe v. Wade. While several states have curtailed legal abortions, others haven’t, making a hodgepodge of laws around abortion and maternal healthcare. Abortions are actually on the rise, partially due the uncertainty of the future of the country, economically and politically. The laws may have changed, but the fundraising hasn’t. Both prolife and proabortion advocates are using abortion this election year to stir up their base. Tens of millions will be spent in advertising and marketing this election cycle on both sides. It’s a sensitive, emotional issue that causes people to be single-issue voters. It’s a lucrative political tactic. To many it’s black-and-white and to discuss nuance or systematic change or other issues is anathema. Just vote for the one paying the best lip service.

But what of the real activists, the ones on the ground trying to save lives, care for mothers and children, provide medical care and food and housing? Where are their big budgets?

It’s so easy to be disillusioned by a movement that has been so politically hijacked. I was reminded of that again this week from a post from New Wave Feminists, a secular, prolife group that, among other things, aids mothers on the U.S.-Mexico border.

She wrote:

“For half a century, overturning Roe had been the goal for so many. They were passionate, convicted activists, many with very good hearts who put so much effort into that action because that’s what their elected officials told them was going to save lives. They did this earnestly. But it was also the lowest rung on the ladder. The step, in my opinion, we could’ve completely ignored had we jumped to the following steps of making society more equitable for those of us whose fertility is literally a liability.

Jeanne Jugan was born Oct. 25, 1792 in Brittany, growing up during the French Revolution. Her father was lost at sea when she was four years old, and her mother struggled to take care of the eight young children. Her mother secretly gave the children religious instruction, despite the anti-Catholic persecutions of the new, secular government.

Jeanne worked as a shepherdess and learned to spin and knit. At age 16 she got a job as a maid with a Catholic viscountess and accompanied her when visiting the sick and poor. Jeanne declined marriage proposals, and at age 25 she joined the Congregation of Jesus and Mary (Eudists) as a third order associate. She then worked as a nurse in the hotel in Saint-Servanfor.

Due to health, she had to leave her post at the hospital. She found work as a servant for a fellow third order Eudist. Jeanne and her employer taught catechism to the local children and cared for the poor.

In 1837, Jeanne and two other women rented a small cottage and begin a community dedicated to teaching and helping the poor. In 1839, she began taking in poor women in need, even offering up her own bed and renting extra rooms for them. By 1842, she had around 40 people she hoped to house; the community purchased an old convent in order to provide for them. The community recognized that helping the elderly was their call. With that mission, they established the Little Sisters of the Poor.

I’ve tried to shy away from referring to myself as a mystic, but mysticism, mystic writers, and worlds of symbolism seem to routinely enter my life. I’ve been reading some mystic writers, including St. Teresa of Avila as part of a reading challenge. It’s easy to get lost in the beauty; it’s harder to implement into real life.

Awhile ago I was talking to someone who shared that when he joined a parish, several people expected him to be mystical, given his Benedictine background. They saw someone who had been part of a religious order and expected him to be lofty and holy. They wanted someone who would prioritize adoration and philosophy over things like building projects and charity. “I was like, go plow a field,” he told me. Their idea of a former monk was a mystic. But he was more rooted in practicality, in doing the faith more than thinking about it, in ora et labora.

Bogdan Ivan Mandić was born May 12, 1866 in a coastal town of modern-day Montenegro (then the Austrian Empire). He was the 12th child of an owner of a fishing fleet. The family was ethnically Croat and from a noble family, through over time they lost their wealth. Bogdan was a sickly and malformed child, growing to only about 4’5”. He had a clumsy walk and a stutter. But that did not stop him from pursuing his education and dreams of becoming a priest.

There were Capuchin friars serving the community, and when Bogdan was 16, he went to Italy to study and join their order. After two years, he was admitted into the novitiate and given the name Leopold. He continued his studies in Padua and Venice.

In 1890 he was ordained to the priesthood. He served in areas around northern Italy and Croatia as well as taught seminarians. In 1906 he was assigned to the friary in Padua where he spent the rest of his life. He was known as a sympathetic and compassionate confessor. He was also known for his work setting up orphanages and visiting the sick in the community.

Florian was born in Roman-occupied present-day Austria around 250. As a young man he joined the Roman army and advanced quickly, becoming the commander of the army in the province of Noricum (modern Austria and part of Slovenia). In additional to other duties, he organized firefighting brigades.

During this time was Diocletian’s persecution of Christians. When word reached Rome that Florian was not enforcing the persecutions in his province, he was put under investigation. He was ordered to sacrifice to the Roman gods and refused. He was scourged and sentenced to be burned at the stake.

It is said that at the pyre, Florian said, “If you wish to know that I am not afraid of your torture, light the fire, and in the name of the Lord I will climb onto it.” The soldiers in charge of the execution then decided instead of burning him to drown him in the Enns River near the Danube with a millstone around his neck.

Today is May 1, May Day. In Europe, May Day began as a spring festival celebrating the coming of summer at the period between the spring equinox and the summer solstice. The Romans would celebrate Flora, the goddess of flowers. May Day celebrations usually include flowers, wheat, outdoor activities, and dancing. Festivals may include the crowning of a “May Queen,” a young girl who personified the season of youth and growth.

In the Church, the month of May is dedicated to Mary. The May Crowning involves creating flower crowns or garlands and placing them on a statue of the Blessed Virgin. Mary bares the title Queen of Heaven; she is also the Mother of the Church (celebrated this month). But these are not stars or crowns of gold. These springtime crowns represent her steadfast faith, attainable for any who follow Christ: the “crown of righteousness” (2 Timothy 4:8), the “crown of life” (James 1:12; Revelation 2:10), and the “crown of glory” (1 Peter 5:4).

There is a more recent understanding of May Day as well. Through the labor movement in the nineteenth century, particularly the Haymarket strike massacre, May Day has become International Workers’ Day. It has been used as a day for public protests and demonstrations around the world as well as parades and military displays in communist countries.

I want answers. I like neat, organized information. Cause and effect. Reason and meaning. There is this internal urge to find this answer that makes everything fit into proper boxes and then every encounter in life will make sense, have its solution ready to pull from its assigned drawer.

Life is not neat and tidy. Humanity has struggled with that fact for ages. We blame Persephone or Eve. We tell of heroes fighting off monsters of chaos (these battles are called chaoskampf in German). We offer rituals and programs, promising a solution that will bring order. Because we want order and we believe that order will ultimately defeat chaos.

But why? Why do we so long for an answer, an order, that does not seem to successfully appear? If we are creatures of a chaotic world, why are we not creatures comfortable with chaos?

St. Medard

St. Medard was born around 456 into a noble Frankish family in northern France. His mother was from a Roman family that had settled in Gaul. At age 33 Medard became a priest. He was known for his knowledge and his piety. In 530, he was made bishop of Vermand. In 532, he was also made the bishop over Tornacum. He moved the see of Vermand to Noyon and then combined the two dioceses.

He was a well-loved bishop, known throughout what is now eastern France, western Germany, and Belgium. He was known for his good disposition, often depicted with his mouth wide open, laughing (this depiction would lead to him being evoked for toothaches).

It was a period of turmoil following the fall of the Western Roman Empire in 476. King Clovis I had formed France, yet the Burgundians and Merovingians battled for power. Medard served as a councilor to the Merovingian king Clotaire.

Lots of local legends arose around him. It was said that as a child an eagle spread its wings and sheltered him from the rain and that whatever the weather is on his feast day will continue for the next 40 days. It is also said that St. Gildard was his twin brother and that they were born, ordained, and died on the same day.

St. Medard died on June 8, 545. His feast day is June 8. He is a patron against toothaches and bad weather.

For the low, low price of 60 pieces of silver

I hate to jump on the latest outrage wagon, but…

The saying goes, “When fascism comes to America it will be wrapped in the flag and carrying a cross,” but must it be so literal?

The Christian nationalist “God Bless the USA Bible” went for sale on Holy Week (“Happy Holy Week” the video ad began). A fundraising grift for legal costs, the “Bible” indeed is wrapped in flag imagery, a political weapon shrouded in hallowed symbols. The item contains the KJV alongside the Declaration of Independence, Constitution, Pledge of Allegiance, and lyrics to the song “God Bless the USA.”

Has anyone checked Monticello? Because Jefferson, who wrote his own edited-down version of the Bible, must be rolling in his grave.

The blatant disrespect, for both scripture and founding documents, is jarring, even in this day and age. Both are being commodified and weaponized. Maybe that’s nothing that new for America but it’s still insidious. It’s gross. This is not about the Word of God or the words of Thomas Jefferson. The hucksters don’t care about the actual message of these documents. The only message they care about is creating a warped version of both Christianity and patriotism, where you can only be a good Christian if you’re a conservative nationalist and you can only be a good citizen if follow a specific, narrow strain of Christianity.

“The grace of Easter is a great silence, an immense tranquility and a clean taste in your soul. It is the taste of heaven, but not the heaven of some wild exaltation. The Easter vision is not riot and drunkenness of spirit, but a discovery of order above all order—a discovery of God and of all thing in Him. This is a wine without intoxication, a joy that has no poison in it. It is a life without death.” Thomas Merton, April 9, 1950

Do You Feel Like Singing?

Maundy Thursday is usually when things turn dark and somber. We try to create a space of quiet and heaviness as we enter into Christ’s betrayal, arrest, and agonizing death. We traditionally leave Maundy Thursday in silence. But the apostles left in song.

On Thursday morning, (most of) the apostles still had no idea of what was to come. They had watched Jesus enter Jerusalem in welcomed glory just days earlier and speak in the Temple. They were celebrating the Passover, a holiday of survival. They probably entered that upper room in good spirits.

Then things got strange. Jesus insisted on washing their feet. But he was always trying to teach lessons they didn’t fully understand. Then he announced that one of them was going to betray him—what a shocking discovery! But then the Passover meal continues.

Their world has just been turned upside down, in ways they don’t understand. There is fear and confusion. Their heads are probably swirling. But there is the Passover feast, an annual tradition of rituals. The holiday has prescribed steps, prescribed words. Internally everything is a mess; externally they can hold on to the familiar motions. Are these rote holiday traditions grounding, comforting? Are they taking on new meaning in light of sitting there with what Jesus has said?

Monday Motivation: Father Thomas Keating

"The spiritual journey is a struggle to be ever more available to God and to let go of the obstacles to that transforming process. The gospel is not merely an invitation to be a better person. It is an invitation to become to become divine." –Father Thomas Keating

Servant of God Élisabeth Leseur

Pauline Élisabeth Arrighi was born into a wealthy family in Paris on Oct. 16, 1866. She was sick as a child and suffered from health issues throughout her life. Élisabeth grew up conventionally religious. Her highly educated socialite circles were generally antireligious, including her husband Félix Leseur. Félix was a doctor and a leader in the anticlerical movement. He had told Élisabeth that he lost his faith during his medical studies

Élisabeth and Félix wed in 1889. The couple was close, even though they disagreed on the matter of religion. Initially Félix had agreed to respect Élisabeth’s practice of the faith, but as time went on, he grew more critical, even openly ridiculing her beliefs. For a time, Élisabeth abandoned her relationship with God.

In 1897, Félix gave her a copy of The History of the Origins of Christianity by Ernest Renán, a book critical of the Church. Finding the arguments in the book weak, Élisabeth began to explore Christianity deeper. This study led her to a deeper devotion; she underwent a conversion. She read the scriptures, Church Fathers, and mystic writers. She worked with charities that helped the poor and continued to pray for her atheist husband.

Monday Motivation: Thomas Merton

"God gives Himself to those who give themselves to Him. The way does not matter much, as long as it is the way He has chosen for us. I find that I can get just as close to God in studying the dry problems of moral theology as by reading the more burning pages of the mystics….Duty does not have to be dull. Love can make it beautiful and fill it with life." –Thomas Merton

All Wound Up

I like time. If I wake up in the middle of the night, the first thing I do is check the time to orient myself. I am consistently early to events. I place a (probably unhealthy) meaning upon numbers and dates and cycles. Time is such a beautiful way of organization.

So I find leap day a little annoying. First of all, 29 is a prime number. I can’t do anything with that. February should be regularly getting 30 days anyway; take one back from July and August. Second, it’s embarrassing that we can’t have a more accurate calendar have to insert “make up days” every few years. It feels very sloppy.

It’s actually anything but that, however. When Pope Gregory XIII began his calendar reform in the sixteenth century, it was because the calendar we were using (the Julian calendar) had drifted far off from the solar observations. The Roman calendar followed a mix of lunar and solar observations. Intercalary days or months would occasionally be called to adjust as needed. In 45 BC, Julius Caesar established the Julian calendar which consistently treated a year as 365 days. However, a solar rotation is 365 days, 6 hours. Over the centuries, that difference adds up, so he also included a rule for leap years: one leap day every four years.

Monday Motivation: Thomas Merton

“My great obligation is to God, and to seek His will carefully with a pure and empty heart. Not to try to impose my own order on my life but let God impose His. To serve His will and His order by realizing them in my own life. This mean certainly a deep consent to all that is actually and manifestly His will for me.” – Thomas Merton

Seeing what is Hidden

Three times in today’s Gospel reading Jesus says, “And your Father who sees in secret will repay you.”

It’s a warning to not be showy about faith, to not be a hypocrite. So often, if Christianity is the dominant culture, Christian faith can either be rote or performative. The outward motions and signs are there. But God sees the heart, the intentions, Jesus warns. He can tell the hypocrites from the pious. You may be checking off everything on the checklist of “good Christian,” but how and why are you doing it?

Don’t broadcast your charity or seek attention in your prayers or bemoan your fasting. The spiritual life is about the interior. It doesn’t matter if others see or know or understand. Sometimes the interior spiritual work takes you out of the noticeable, social routines. Will people think I’m praying less if they don’t see me praying as much? Wait, why does that matter?

St. Gobnait was born in the sixth century in Ireland. During a family feud, she fled home and took refuge on an island in Galway Bay. According to tradition, an angel appeared to her there and told her that this was “not the place of her resurrection.” Gobnait was instructed to go find a place where nine white deer were grazing.

She found such a place on a hill in County Cork. She and St. Abban (who may have been her sister) founded a convent there. The religious order there cared for the sick.

As abbess of the convent. Gobnait began beekeeping and was said to love her work with the bees. She used the honey as a medicinal aid, and was credited with saving local villagers from the plague. One tradition claims that after a man stole cattle, she directed a swarm of bees after him until he returned the stolen cattle.

St. Gobnait's feast day is Feb. 11. She is the patron of bees and beekeepers.

St. Anna Schäffer

St. Anna Schäffer was born in Mindelstetten, Bavaria on Feb. 18, 1882. Her father was a carpenter. When he died at a young age, the family of six children was left in poverty. Anna dropped out of school at 14 and worked as a maid to help support the family.

Anna hoped to eventually join a religious order. In 1898, she had a vision that long suffering was ahead. Less than three years later, on Feb. 4, 1901, while working in a laundry, she slipped and severely burnt her legs against a boiling laundry kettle, leaving her immobile. She endured more than 30 surgeries, but the operations and skin grafts were unsuccessful. Her mother took care of her for the rest of her life.

Anna believed her suffering was her path to heaven. She focused on prayer, writing, and knitting. She would knit clothes for her friends from her bed. A local abbott brought her the Eucharist daily, and she had a deep devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. She continued to experience visions around 1910 and even received the stigmata.

Anna Schäffer died on Oct. 5, 1925 from colon cancer. Her feast day is Oct. 5.

The Clouds are Raining Justice

A Rorate Caeli Mass is a special Mass celebrated during Advent. The name comes from Isaiah 45:8: Rorate Caeli desuper et nubes pluant justum (“Drop down from above, heavens, and let the clouds rain justice”). The verse is used during vespers during Advent to express longing for the Messiah. It is also used as the introit for the Fourth Sunday of Advent and the feast of the Expectation of the Blessed Virgin Mary (Dec. 18).

The Rorate Mass is a votive Mass in honor of Mary. It is usually celebrated in the very early morning or late evening, accompanied only by candlelight. It was popular during the Middle Ages, also called the Angelic Mass or Golden Mass. In some countries, people would walk to the church carrying lamps or candles. Some say the melting wax of the many candles reflects the justice raining down. (Plus, who doesn’t love pretty candlelight in the winter dark?)

This week I've been obsessed with paintings of the Flight to Egypt composed while Victorians were super into ancient Egypt and thus place the Holy Family along the Nile and amongst the pyramids and sphinx. I love how Egyptian they are. At first, it seems like, well, the Victorians just wanted to see pyramids. But the more I look at them, the more they've made me think about how out of place the Holy Family was, how far away from home. The ridiculousness of the images makes you long to place the Holy Family back in a context where they belong, which, is where they wanted to be as well. That's the whole point about being forced to flee one's home; you didn't want to leave, and you long for the time when you can safely return. Until then, you seek shelter in strange, new worlds, even the strange, new world of ancient lands.

Festum Asinorum, or the Feast of the Donkey, originated in France and was celebrated primarily between the 11th and 15th centuries. Celebrated on Jan. 14, it celebrates donkey-related stories of the Bible, primarily the humble donkey who carried Mary and Jesus on their flight to Egypt.

Celebration of the feast would include a procession, led by a donkey, to and then into the church. It would stand by the ambo during a sermon; sometimes the priest would even deliver the sermon from the donkey’s back. Members of the procession would be dressed as prophets or other Bible figures such as Moses, Amos, John the Baptist, and most notably for the day, Balaam and his donkey. Some churches included a pageant about the prophets awaiting the coming of the Messiah or the story of Balaam before the beginning of the Mass.

At the end of the Mass, instead of the priest saying “Ite, missa est,” someone would coax the donkey to bray, to which the faithful would respond, “hee-haw.”

Some historians argue it was a day similar to Carnival—silly and profane bringing an animal into a sacred space. Others say it was more solemn—using the animal to focus on its symbolism of humility and burden. I’d say it was probably a bit of both.

Ivo (or Yves) Helory was born Oct. 17, 1253 to the lord of Kermartin in Brittany. As a teen, he was sent to the University of Paris to study law. He was a serious student. He studied civil law, prayed, and visited the sick. He abstained from meat and wine. In 1277 he went on to study canon law in Orleans and become an ecclesiastical judge, serving in Brittany.

Ivo was known for his impartiality and rendering fair verdicts as a judge. He refused bribes, which were common at the time. He would even help parties settle disputes out of court to help them save money of court costs. He also defended widows, orphans, and the poor in other courts and paid their expenses.

While working as a judge, he continued to study, this time Scripture. He joined the Franciscans and was ordained a priest in 1284. He spent the rest of his life serving as a parish priest.

St. Ivo died of natural causes on May 19, 1303 in Louannec. He is the patron of Brittany, lawyers, and abandoned children. His feast day is May 19.

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