Saint for the new year

"... since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses..." -- Hebrews 12:1 (RSV)

For several years I've engaged in the practice of drawing the name of a saint to be my "saint buddy" for the year. Some folks do this just before the start of Advent, which is certainly more in keeping with the liturgical calendar, but since my birthday is so close to the end of the calendar year, it's always seemed more natural to do it at the end of December.

This year, I pulled St. Mechtilde. I've been acquainted with a lot of saints over the years, but I had no idea who St. Mechtilde was. It turned out that it wasn't that easy to find out, either, as I kept running into references to two Mechtildes, who seemed to be different, but also shared some similarities, so that I actually wasn't sure if they were two women or one.

Finally, I came across a teaching given by Pope Benedict XVI at a General Audience in September 2010 on St. Mechtilde (or Matilda) of Hackeborn. He noted that the same German convent was home in the late 1200s to four famous mystics, two named Mechtilde and two named Gertrude. To make things even more confusing, St. Mechtilde of Hackeborn was the younger sister of one of the Gertrudes and novice mistress to the other Gertrude, St. Gertrude the Great, and it wasn't unusual for folks to get those relationships mixed up, too! After reading his comments, I decided, if St. Mechtilde of Hackeborn was important enough to warrant a teaching from Pope Benedict, then she was probably the one I pulled, although if the other St. Mechtilde would also like to pray for me this year, that would be just fine with me. :-)

The slip of paper with her name included a quote, not from St. Mechtilde, but from Jesus speaking to St. Mechtilde:

"All those who love My gifts in others will receive the same merit and glory as those to whom I have granted those gifts."

I love that thought. I love the humility and gratitude and hiddenness reflected in it. It's very like St. Therese -- or rather, St. Therese is very like Jesus! She said something of a similar vein that's recorded in her Last Conversations:

"How often have I thought that I may owe all the graces I've received to the prayers of a person who begged them from God for me, and whom I shall know only in heaven.

"Yes, a very little spark will be capable of giving birth to great lights in the Church, like the Doctors and Martyrs, who will undoubtedly be higher in heaven than the spark; but how could anyone think that their glory will not become his?

"In heaven, we shall not meet with indifferent glances, because all the elect will discover that they owe to each other the graces that merited the crown for them." (St. Therese of Lisieux, Her Last Conversations, tr. by Fr. John Clarke, conversation #5, July 15, 1897)

Sts. Mechtilde and Therese, please pray for me!

St. Joseph, head of the Holy Family

"[Jesus] went down with [Mary and Joseph] and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them..." -- Luke 2:51 (NAB)

Today is the wonderful feast of the Holy Family. Coming as it does during the Christmas season, it's natural to think of the Holy Family when Jesus was an infant, or perhaps when as a child He was found by His parents in the Temple in Jerusalem, as in today's Gospel. But I found myself thinking of an insight that I received several years ago on Holy Thursday regarding St. Joseph. I make no claim to it being anything other than what it is, private revelation. I offer it simply for you to take or leave as the Lord leads.

That year during the Eucharistic Prayer at Holy Thursday Mass, I found myself wondering what share St. Joseph had had in the Passion, given that he had died before Jesus' public ministry began. I suddenly had a flash of insight that came in the time it took to mention St. Joseph's name in the Eucharistic Prayer, an understanding that came to me complete and whole, not in a linear string of words as I'm forced to use to describe it now.

Mary and Joseph knew that their son was the Messiah, and being good Jews familiar with the Scriptures, that meant that they also knew that His mission would involve great suffering. They didn't know, however, certain details, such as exactly when and under what circumstances His mission would begin. Nonetheless, Joseph, having heard Simeon's prophecy that a sword would also pierce Mary's soul, always assumed that he would be there for her, to support her and provide strength and shelter for her in her sorrow, as he had been in Bethlehem and Egypt and Nazareth and Jerusalem.

Then one day Joseph became sick. As a strong working man, he had rarely been sick and never with anything serious. But this sickness, whatever it was, sapped his strength and before long, he had to stay in bed. Despite Mary's loving care, he continued to grow weaker, and it became clear that Joseph was dying.

At one point, Mary was out of the house, perhaps drawing water at the well, and Jesus was alone with Joseph, sitting next to his bed to comfort him. Joseph looked up at Jesus and asked weakly, "I won't be there for her?" Jesus, knowing exactly what he meant, looked at him with great love and understanding and then shook His head, No.

In that moment, all the pain and suffering of the Passion combined with the anguish that was unique to Joseph over the fact that he would not be able to be present at the Passion for Mary, whom he loved more than his own life, and they came together into a white-hot point of exquisite, indescribable pain that pierced his soul like a laser, hit his heart, and exploded.

And in the very next instant, from the center of his shattered heart, he whispered to God, "Yes."

I doubt if we will ever know until we get to Heaven what an incredibly great saint Joseph is.

St. Joseph, head of the Holy Family, please pray for us.

Remember the Resurrection!

"...when these signs begin to happen, stand erect and raise your heads because your redemption is at hand." -- Luke 21:28 (NAB)

Earlier this week, I was reflecting on these words of our Lord while considering the increasing darkness in the world. As I did so, these words started rising up in my heart: "Make this your rallying cry: Remember the Resurrection!"

When the darkness and fear of the Garden of Gethsemane starts pressing in on every side, Remember the Resurrection!

When your friends abandon you, as they did Jesus, Remember the Resurrection!

When people mock you and persecute you for your faith, Remember the Resurrection!

When you have fallen under the weight of your cross and are struggling get up and go on, Remember the Resurrection!

When you are nailed to the cross yourself, or standing by the cross of a loved one, going through the agony as death approaches, Remember the Resurrection!

When you, like the Blessed Mother, are cradling your dead loved one in your arms, heart broken with grief, Remember the Resurrection!

And today, when a score of innocent children and a number of adults are brutally killed by a gunman, leaving behind hundreds of traumatized and grieving students and teachers and family and friends; when a nation and a world that in many ways has become calloused to loss of life is stunned; when people in shock and anger and despair ask How? and Why? and Where is God?...

...then hold each other tight, and cry together, and then gently and lovingly whisper to each other the words, Remember the Resurrection!

The Cross and the Resurrection

"For the sake of the joy that lay before Him He endured the cross, despising its shame, and has taken His seat at the right of the throne of God." -- Heb. 12:2 (NAB)

I just learned today that the oft-quoted words of Cardinal Francis George of Chicago about "dying in his bed" are missing an important sentence. Cardinal George explained in his Oct. 21, 2012 column for the newspaper of the Archdiocese of Chicago that his words in response to a question were apparently recorded on a smartphone and then "went viral." Although they were accurate, as far as they went, the complete quote reads as follows:

"I expect to die in bed, my successor will die in prison and his successor will die a martyr in the public square. His successor will pick up the shards of a ruined society and slowly help rebuild civilization, as the church has done so often in human history."

I think that second sentence is so vitally important, especially given the situation that our society is facing today. It reminds us that, no matter how dark things may get--and I, like many others, think it's going to get pretty dark--the story does not end on Good Friday! We need to keep the Resurrection firmly in mind when considering what lies ahead. Then, by the grace of the Holy Spirit, we can hope to be able to be like Jesus, Who "for the sake of the joy that lay before Him ... endured the cross, despising its shame..." 

The challenge of fear

"The angel said to her, 'Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.' " -- Luke 1: 30 (RSV)

 About a month ago, I started reading a book called The Gift of Faith by Father Tadeusz Dajczer. It came highly recommended by a fellow Secular Carmelite, and I've not been disappointed. If you're looking for an inspiring book to read during the Year of Faith, check it out.

Among the many insights from Fr. Dajczer is this from his chapter, "The Virtue of Faith":

"Fear is a trial of faith and that is why God allows it, so that you may grow in faith. Trust and faith are made perfect amidst fears.

"Fear can contribute to illness in many people. Fear lies at the basis of neuroses and psychoses. But it can be an outlet to total abandonment to God. Everything depends on you. Fear is a challenge issued to you. What will you do with it? Will you allow yourself to be enslaved by its weight? Or, instead, will you try to perform acts of abandoning yourself to Him who is infinite power and love." (p. 53)

This is what Mary did when faced with the Archangel Gabriel's visit and message. She did not allow either fear of the angel or fear of the implications of God's call to hold her back. Instead, she abandoned herself totally to God and His will: "Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word."

Lord, through the prayers of Your Mother, help me to respond to every fear that I experience in my life by abandoning myself to You in trust, faith, and love.

Mother of the Word Incarnate

"And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth..." -- John 1:14 (RSV)

Although the months of May and October are dedicated to the Blessed Mother, the liturgical season that brings her most to the forefront, at least for me, is Advent/Christmas. So now, when we're starting another liturgical year, seems like the perfect time to share this beautiful image of Mary reading the Scriptures. (Yes, I know it's anachronistic to show her reading a bound book, but please put that aside for now. :-) )

I found this several months ago on Wikimedia Commons, and I'm glad that I downloaded it when I did, because I haven't been able to find it again since! If I recall correctly, it's an image from a cathedral in Russia.

Aside from the sheer beauty of this image of the Blessed Mother, I love the fact that she, who bore the Word of God Incarnate, is shown contemplating the Word of God. I've heard it said, I think, that Jesus was conceived in Mary's heart long before He was conceived in her womb.  No wonder that both Mary and Jesus are addressed in Scripture as being "full of grace."

Father, by the power of your Spirit, may I study Your Word until I, too, can bring Him forth to the world in the way that You created me to bear Him, according to Your perfect loving will. Amen.

He must increase...

"Andrew ... first found his brother Simon, and said to him, 'We have found the Messiah' (which means Christ). He brought him to Jesus." -- (John 1:40b-42a)

Today is the feast of St. Andrew. Andrew is described by St. John as a disciple of St. John the Baptist and one of the first two disciples to follow Jesus. Andrew is the one responsible for bringing his brother Simon to Jesus.

Yet Andrew did not become one of the "inner circle" with Simon Peter, James, and John whom the Lord chose to be closest to Him. And what did he think when his brother, whom he had brought to the Lord, was chosen to be the leader, "the Rock" on which the Lord would build His Church? Was he resentful at being passed over, even though he had been one of Jesus' first followers?

If he was, there is no record of it in Scripture. In fact, you can almost hear him echoing the words of his first mentor, John the Baptist: "He must increase, and I must decrease."

Lord, please help me, like St. Andrew, to humbly and gratefully accept the role and purpose that You have for me, whatever it may be, without comparing myself to others. May I always bless what You are doing with others, whatever it may be and whatever it may mean, or not mean, for me.

A taste of the joy

"I rejoiced when they said to me, 'Let us go to the house of the LORD.'" -- Psalm 122:1 (NAB)

Deaths in my life seem to go in surges, and October saw one of those surges. On October 5, the 12-year-old granddaughter of one of our deacons died following a three-year battle with cancer. The day of her funeral, a 23-year-old young adult in our parish was found dead in his trailer of apparent accidental carbon monoxide poisoning. The 60-year-old wife of a local pastor then died unexpectedly less than a week later.

Experiencing a series of deaths, especially deaths that come suddenly or unexpectedly, can serve as an important reminder of how fragile life is and that we "do not know the day or the hour" when the Lord will come for us (Mt. 25:13). But it can also serve to remind us that there is something much better waiting for those who love God, something that we sometimes get a little taste of when someone close to us dies.

A number of years ago, an elderly friend of mine died of liver cancer. She had never married and had outlived all her immediate family, so I was one of the people closest to her. As a result, I had the privilege of walking with her on her journey from the time she was first diagnosed until she went to be with the Lord 17 months later. 

I had had other elderly friends who had died, but I had never been with them at the moment of their passing. In this case, though, I really wanted to be there for her, so I asked the Lord, if it was His will, to give me the grace of being present at her death.

She was staying in a nursing home under hospice care. It became clear in the last few days of her life that her body was starting to shut down. I was blessed to be able to take a couple of days off work so that I could be with her. The nursing home staff put a large recliner next to her bed so that I could stay with her.

I was sleeping in the recliner when around 2:30 in the morning I awoke to see her roommate, who had dementia, standing beside my friend's bed, gently tucking her in. I thought, "Isn't that sweet," and was about to go back to sleep when the roommate went to her closet and started getting dressed. (It's not unusual for those with dementia to become active at night.) I thought, "Uh-oh, the aide will want to know this," so I got up and found her. After several minutes of coaxing, she convinced the roommate to go back to bed.

By this time, I was wide awake, so I decided to read to my friend from the Bible. I knew that she looked like she was asleep, but I've often heard that a person's hearing is the last sense to go, so I wanted to read to her from Scripture. After reading several other passages, I decided to read the psalms known as the "songs of ascent." These are the psalms that the Israelites prayed aloud as they climbed up the mountain on pilgrimage to Jerusalem.

I got to Psalm 122 and started to read it:

I rejoiced when they said to me,

“Let us go to the house of the LORD.”

And now our feet are standing

within your gates, Jerusalem.

As I said, "Jerusalem," my friend quietly stopped breathing. I paused and waited to see if she was going to go into a cycle of breaths with long pauses in between, as cancer patients sometimes do. A few seconds later, though, the artery in her neck stopped pulsating. It was all so peaceful and at the same time unexpected that I actually said out loud, "I think you just died!" It was as if one moment, she had been standing at the gates of the heavenly Jerusalem, and the next moment, she had stepped through to the other side.

It's hard to describe what I experienced at that moment. Physically, I was exhausted; emotionally, I was numb. Spiritually, though, I was on the ceiling! It was as if, in that brief moment that the gates had opened for her, a breeze, laden with the joy of the other side, had blown back through to me and given me a very small, swift taste of what she was walking into.

As I considered the three people who died in October and their loved ones mourning their loss, I asked the Lord to let those left behind catch just a bit of that same back draft of heavenly joy.

Open my ears, Lord, that I may do Your will

"...the man’s ears were opened, his speech impediment was removed, and he spoke plainly. He ordered them not to tell anyone. But the more He ordered them not to, the more they proclaimed it."--Mark 7:35-36 (NAB)

Today's Gospel at Mass was St. Mark's account of the healing of a deaf man with a speech impediment. (Mark 7:31-37). I've often been struck by the fact in this passage and in other places that Jesus orders the person He's healed not to tell anyone. Why would He not want people to know? Isn't it natural that they would want to proclaim the wonderful works that He has done? Plus, sometimes He specifically instructs people to tell others what the Lord has done, as in the healing of the Gerasene demoniac (Mark 5:1-20).

I think we get a clue as to what may be behind the prohibition in a healing story earlier in Mark. In Mark 1:40-45, He heals a leper and tells him not to tell anyone. However, "The man went away and began to publicize the whole matter. He spread the report abroad so that it was impossible for Jesus to enter a town openly. He remained outside in deserted places, and people kept coming to him from everywhere." (v. 45) The former leper's failure to obey had unintended negative consequences. How much this failure hampered Jesus' ministry we'll never know.

There are going to be times when God's will for us isn't the same as what He has for others. It may not make sense to us at all. But if He makes His will clear, then we need to trust Him and obey.

Lord, in Your mercy, please open my ears to hear Your words for me and then give me the humility and trust to obey You. Amen.

Elijah-Moses, Elisha-Joshua

Moses said to [Joshua], "Are you jealous for my sake? Would that all the LORD's people were prophets, that the LORD would put his spirit upon them!"--Num. 11:29 (RSV)

Another Elijah-Elisha pair in Scripture is Moses and Joshua.  Moses was a powerful man of God, the Lawgiver, the Prophet, the "Friend of God," arguably the most important figure in the history of Israel between Abraham and Jesus. Yet it was Joshua who ultimately led the Lord's people into the Promised Land, not Moses. He was the successor, the one who got the job done, but it wouldn't have been possible without the work of Moses.

There is an interesting sequence of events in the Book of Numbers that reveals a lot about Moses. He's completely overwhelmed by his responsibilities and says to the Lord, "I am not able to carry all this people alone, the burden is too heavy for me." (Num. 11:14) The Lord offers to share the anointing that is on Moses with 70 other men, so that they may share the responsibility with him.

These men were all supposed to gather with Moses at the meeting tent, but two of them remained in the camp. However, since they had been on the list, they also received the anointing and started prophesying in the camp. Moses' young assistant Joshua feels threatened by this new development. He wants Moses to stop them, but Moses refuses.

Although Joshua doesn't say why he felt threatened, Moses identifies his problem as jealousy. The Catholic Encyclopedia defines jealousy, or envy, as "a sorrow which one entertains at another's well-being because of a view that one's own excellence is in consequence lessened."

Moses is clearly not a jealous person. He's not power-hungry. He does not need to be known as having a unique relationship with God. When the Lord offers to share his anointing with 70 others, he doesn't complain, but cooperates fully with God's plan. His only concern is that God's people be cared for and God's plan accomplished.

In his response to Joshua, Moses provides him a valuable lesson, both by his words and more importantly by his example. Through the prayers and example of Moses, may all Elijahs provide a similar example of selflessness to the Elishas that follow us.

Custody of the Eyes

When Peter saw [the disciple beloved of the Lord], he said to Jesus, “Lord, what about him?” Jesus said to him, “What if I want him to remain until I come? What concern is it of yours? You follow me.”-- John 21:21-22 (NAB)

I've been realizing lately that I share a character trait with St. Peter, and unfortunately, it's not one of his virtues. :-/ Both St. Peter and I tend to get distracted by what's going on around us.

Everyone knows how, when Peter took his eyes off Jesus and looked at the wind and the waves, he started to sink (cf Mt. 14:28-31). But he wasn't distracted only by the circumstances around him. He was also distracted by what the Lord had in store for other people. After Jesus told him in veiled terms the manner of death that he would die, Peter asks, "What about John?" Jesus in essence tells him, "Mind your own business!" (cf Jn. 21:18-23)

Peter was also distracted by what people would think of him, as evidenced by his denial of Jesus at the questioning of the bystanders during the trial, one of the few details of the Passion that is reported in all four Gospels. His tendency to be distracted because of what other people think was a weakness even after Pentecost. As St. Paul wrote to the Galatians, "Before certain men came from James, he [Cephas, or Peter] ate with the Gentiles; but when they came he drew back and separated himself, fearing the circumcision party." (Gal. 2:12) It took a public rebuke from Paul to get Peter back on track.

I find some comfort in knowing that Peter struggled with this weakness even after Pentecost, because I, too, after years of following the Lord in the power of the Spirit, still get distracted by circumstances, by people's opinions, by what's going on with others, and a host of other things.  I know, though, that ultimately, Peter overcame his weaknesses through God's grace and his own humble perseverance and laid down his life in witness to the One he loved. I can turn to Peter for prayer support when I get distracted in so many ways, knowing that he understands.

Dear St. Peter, thank you for persevering in spite of your weaknesses in following Our Lord. When my eyes wander, please help me by your prayers to keep them fixed on Jesus. Amen.

Divine self-effacement

"Behold, the Lamb of God. ... He must increase; I must decrease." -- John 1:36; 3:30

St. John the Baptist, in his great humility, didn't draw attention to himself, but always pointed to the Lamb of God, Jesus. This aspect of St. John the Baptist reminds me of this passage from the Catechism of the Catholic Church:

"Now God's Spirit, who reveals God, makes known to us Christ, his Word, his living Utterance, but the Spirit does not speak of himself. The Spirit who 'has spoken through the prophets' makes us hear the Father's Word, but we do not hear the Spirit himself. We know him only in the movement by which he reveals the Word to us and disposes us to welcome him in faith. The Spirit of truth who 'unveils' Christ to us 'will not speak on his own.' [Jn 16:13] Such properly divine self-effacement explains why 'the world cannot receive [him], because it neither sees him nor knows him,' while those who believe in Christ know the Spirit because he dwells with them. [Jn 14:17]" (CCC 687)

Dear Lord Jesus, St. John the Baptist shared deeply in the "divine self-effacement" of the Holy Spirit. May all of us present-day Elijahs be, like St. John the Baptist, people of the Holy Spirit, pointing always to Jesus. Amen.

Elijah-John the Baptist, Elisha-Jesus

"Amen, I say to you, among those born of women there has been none greater than John the Baptist ... And if you are willing to accept it, he is Elijah, the one who is to come." -- Mt. 11:11, 14 (NAB)

Today is the Solemnity of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist, the one whom Jesus Himself called Elijah. Therefore, it shouldn't come as a surprise that I'm returning to the Elijah-Elisha theme. (Perhaps the only surprise is that I'm blogging for the third time this month! :-))

St. Francis de Sales, in one of his Advent sermons, wrote that St. John the Baptist's "humility, it seems to me, is the most excellent and the most perfect that has ever been, after that of Our Lord and the most sacred Virgin." (The Sermons of St. Francis de Sales for Advent and Christmas, Rockford, IL: TAN Books, 1984, p. 22) The people of Judea are all abuzz over the possibility that he might be the Messiah. The priests and Levites even came out to him to ask if he's the Messiah. He could easily have yielded to the temptation to claim for his own the title.

But his commitment to the truth is too great. He will not claim to himself that which is not rightly his. In fact, as St. Francis points out, he doesn't even claim that title -- Elijah -- which rightly was his. As St. Francis puts it, "Admirable humility!"

Father, thank You for the wonderful example of St. John the Baptist, especially his amazing humility. Please help us in the Elijah generation especially to imitate his commitment to truth which allows this grace of humility to flow through our lives and into the lives of others. Amen.

Something new

"See, I am doing something new! Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?"--Isaiah 43:19b

Today is the 9th anniversary of the death of a wonderful lady in our parish named Maxine. At least, that's what her holy card says. But June 13 was simply the day that her good friend Ann found her body, sitting in her chair with her feet propped up, facing the TV which was tuned to EWTN, just as she had been when she had her heart attack. All the evidence, though, points to her really dying on Pentecost evening, June 8.

Maxine was a wonderful woman, filled with the joy of the Lord and His Spirit. She had spent many years as a medical missionary nurse in Africa. In fact, one of the Ugandan priests in our area was born at a hospital where she was serving in the maternity ward. He was amazed to learn that because, as he later told us, he had always had a feeling that he knew her from somewhere. :)

By the time I got to know her, she was already retired, but remained very active in her retirement, serving in various ways. She was also active in our Carmelite group. In fact, she and I made our definitive promises on the same day.

But what I'll always remember most about Maxine is what happened that last Pentecost weekend. We were offering several opportunities for people to be prayed with that weekend. On Friday night, Maxine came to my partner and I for prayer. She said that the Lord had told her that He was getting ready to do "something new" with her, and she was so excited that God had something new for her! She couldn't wait to see what this new thing of God would be. So we prayed with her for this "something new" coming in her life, whatever it might be. On Pentecost Sunday morning, she stopped by the prayer ministers for prayer again, and I got to pray with her a second time.

Imagine my shock a few days later when I learned that she had died! But in the days and months and years since then, I have often reflected on what the Lord had said to her. From the Lord's perspective, the death of His faithful ones is simply "something new," a new phase in their eternal relationship of love with Him. Maxine didn't need to know exactly what the new thing was. It was enough to know that it was coming from the hand of her loving Father, and like a trusting little child, she looked forward to it with great excitement and joy.

Dear Father, thank You for Maxine and for allowing me the opportunity to get a glimpse through her into Your perspective on death. Whenever my time comes to approach death, help me to remember that it is simply "something new" in our relationship and to approach it with the same trust, excitement, and joy that she did. Amen.

The Son of Encouragement

"When he arrived and saw the grace of God, [Barnabas] rejoiced and encouraged them all to remain faithful to the Lord in firmness of heart, for he was a good man, filled with the holy Spirit and faith."--Acts 11:23-24a (NAB)

Yesterday, June 11, we celebrated the feast of St. Barnabas. I just love St. Barnabas. There's a group of saints that just warm my heart, and Barnabas is one of them. In fact, he's probably one of my favorite saints in Scripture.

St. Luke tells us that Barnabas was actually his nickname, given him by the apostles. It tells you a lot when the leaders name you "Son of Encouragement"! It was a name that suited him so well that he's known to the Church by his nickname, not his given name of Joseph.

Barnabas as we see him in Acts consistently lives out his name. He generously sells a piece of land he owns and gives all the proceeds to the apostles. When no one in the early Church trusted the newly converted Saul, he takes him under his wing and introduces him to the apostles. When the apostles are looking for someone to check out the situation in Antioch, who do they send? Barnabas. And when he sees evidence of God's grace at work, he rejoices, encourages it, and then goes and finds Saul, recognizing that he has gifts that will serve this fledgling work of God.

Early in their work in Antioch and the first mission trip, Luke lists them as "Barnabas and Saul." But it isn't too long into their mission trip before the roles switch. Saul, now Paul, is the chief speaker, the one who is listed first when they are mentioned on mission. But do you get any sense that Barnabas has a problem with this? I can almost hear him say, echoing John the Baptist, "He must increase and I must decrease."

Even the cause of the disagreement that separated Paul and Barnabas is so consistent with his character. Barnabas wanted to take Mark along on their return journey to the communities they founded in Asia Minor. Yes, he knew that Mark had deserted them the first time, but he wanted to give him another chance. That is so typical of Barnabas! And when Paul would have none of it, rather than give in to Paul, he stands on his principles and takes Mark along with him to Cyprus.

We never hear him mentioned again in the Acts of the Apostles, but we owe so much to St. Barnabas! Would we even have a St. Paul if Barnabas had not taken him under his wing and introduced him to the apostles, and later sought him out in Tarsus? And, of course, St. Luke was a friend and disciple of St. Paul, so if there hadn't been a St. Paul, there wouldn't have been a St. Luke, either. Would we have a St. Mark if Barnabas had not given the young man another chance to prove himself, launching him onto his life of service to Peter and Paul? In one sense, we owe a large part of the New Testament writings to the love and encouragement of St. Barnabas!

Dear St. Barnabas, thank you so much for your faithful love and encouragement of God's people, a quiet ministry that has impacted the Church throughout all the ages. Pray for me, that I, too, may be one who encourages the Lord's people, recognizing the work of His Spirit and blessing it wherever it is found. Amen.

The Pre-Blessing Blitz

"I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us."--Rom. 8:18 (RSV)

My pastor often talks about the "pre-blessing blitz." It's the increase in various types of spiritual warfare that occurs before a time of blessing and is often directly proportional to the greatness of the blessing that is coming.

The last week to 10 days leading up to today's glorious celebration of Easter were pocked with a variety of hassles at work. The month before our parish's church was dedicated was marked by all kinds of problems, topped by the fact that the marble altar that was being shipped from Italy got lost in transit. (You may ask, How do you lose two tons of marble? I don't know, but it happened!)

The saints were very familiar with the pre-blessing blitz, though they may not have called it that. St. Teresa of Jesus (a.k.a. of Avila) noted in The Interior Castle that a time of great blessing from the Lord is often preceded by a time of great trial. St. John Vianney, who often encountered spiritual warfare in a very direct way as a confessor, learned over time that an increase in spiritual warfare often indicated that a great sinner was about to repent, or, as he put it, he was about to "catch a big fish." :-)

St. John Vianney developed a great perspective to the pre-blessing blitz, one that very much reflects the truth expressed by St. Paul in the verse given above. It's said that one night he heard a great commotion down in his parlor. He went downstairs and found the evil one in anger throwing furniture around the room. He said, "Oh, it's only you," and went back to bed!

On Holy Thursday as I was reflecting on the latest Holy Week blitz and the increasing persecution of Catholics and Christians in our nation, all in light of the Passion and death of Jesus, it occurred to me that life is a pre-blessing blitz. The intensity of the spiritual warfare is not constant; the Lord knows that we are but dust, and in His mercy He gives us breaks in the battle. But the ebbs and flows that we experience do not change the fact that we are always in the midst of a battle. And this should not surprise us, for the blessing to which we are heading is the greatest blessing of all: eternal life on high with Christ Jesus!

Lord Jesus, help me to always remember that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory to be revealed to us. Help me to take on the mindset of St. John Vianney and the other saints, seeing things through the perspective of eternity and remembering always that "He who is in me is greater than he who is in the world." Amen.

Eleazar: Giving a noble example to the young

"...by bravely giving up life now, I will prove myself worthy of my old age, and I will leave to the young a noble example of how to die willingly and nobly for the revered and holy laws." -- 2 Macc. 6:27-28 (NAB)

The Second Book of the Maccabees records several inspiring stories of Jews of the second century before Christ who refused to violate the law of God, even at the cost of their lives. One that is especially relevant for seniors is the story of the scribe Eleazar, described as "a man advanced in age and of noble appearance."

As part of the persecutions, Jews were being forced to eat pork that had been offered in sacrifice. When Eleazar refused, some of his old friends took him aside and tried to offer him a way out. They suggested that he pretend to eat the pork, but bring some of his own food that he could lawfully eat and eat that instead.

How many times are we offered a way out of violating our consciences that might at first seem to meet the requirements of the laws of God, but which we know, in our heart of hearts, leaves something to be desired? Eleazar recognized that there was something else he needed to be concerned about than just technically meeting the requirements of the Law; namely, the scandal he would give to those who heard of it.

Scandal is a term that has lost a lot of its theological meaning in modern society. We think of scandalous behavior as that which is shocking or disgraceful, and there is that element. But the Catechism of the Catholic Church provides us with the full meaning of "scandal":

"Scandal is an attitude or behavior which leads another to do evil. The person who gives scandal becomes his neighbor's tempter. He damages virtue and integrity; he may even draw his brother into spiritual death. Scandal is a grave offense if by deed or omission another is deliberately led into a grave offense." (para. 2284)

Eleazar clearly understood the full, scandalous impact of his actions, especially on the young, if he accepted the offer to pretend to eat pork. He replied,

"At our age it would be unbecoming to make such a pretense; many of the young would think the ninety-year-old Eleazar had gone over to an alien religion. If I dissemble to gain a brief moment of life, they would be led astray by me, while I would bring defilement and dishonor on my old age. Even if, for the time being, I avoid human punishment, I shall never, whether alive or dead, escape the hand of the Almighty. Therefore, by bravely giving up life now, I will prove myself worthy of my old age, and I will leave to the young a noble example of how to die willingly and nobly for the revered and holy laws.”(2 Macc. 6:24-28)

Dear Lord Jesus, help us to remember that we are never acting alone or in secret, but that every action of our lives affects those around us. Please give us the wisdom to recognize the hidden dangers in what might, at first, seem to be legitimate compromises. Grant us the grace not to give scandal and lead others astray by our actions, but to be faithful to You by the power of Your Spirit to the end, whatever that end may be. Amen.

Curing vs. caring

"O all ye that pass by the way, attend, and see if there be any sorrow like to my sorrow..." -- Lamentations 1:12a (Douay-Rheims)

This morning after Mass I found myself holding and praying with a fellow parishioner whose 17-year-old godson unexpectedly committed suicide yesterday. There was nothing to say or do for a time but be there with her in her grief.

When I was younger--and even still now, to a certain extent--my instinct would have been to try to "fix" it: to say the right thing or do something to make the hurt go away. But many years ago at a retreat house I came across a small book by Fr. Henri Nouwen called Out of Solitude: Three Meditations on the Christian Life. In one of the meditations, he talks about the difference between "curing" and "caring."

When faced with another's pain and brokenness, we often want to cure them, come up with a solution, kiss it and make it all better. But many times our efforts, though well-intended, actually serve to inflict more pain. Our efforts fail to acknowledge the reality and depth of their pain. They rob the person of the right to struggle, to grieve.

Sometimes the worst thing we can do is say something like, "I know just how you feel." No one, even someone who has gone through an almost identical loss, truly knows what another's grief feels like. Each person's suffering is unique. Truly, "there is no sorrow like my sorrow."

Caring, on the other hand, doesn't approach the grieving and wounded as problems to be fixed. Rather, they are people to be loved. And the best way to love someone is often to just be there with them, sharing in their suffering. (Compassion in its Latin roots means "to suffer with.") Yes, there is a time for practical assistance. But often the best thing you can do, especially at first, is say nothing, but just be there, letting them know by your presence that they're not suffering alone. Yes, it's uncomfortable, especially at first. But with the help of the Lord and His Mother, it can be done.

I'm very grateful to Fr. Nouwen for having written that meditation. It redirected my thinking in a way that continues to have repercussions in my life even today, even this morning, as I held and prayed with a grieving godmother.

Preparing for birth

When a woman is in travail she has sorrow, because her hour has come; but when she is delivered of the child, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a child is born into the world. -- John 16:21 (RSV)

I have often wondered how a pre-born child perceives its approaching birth. Does it realize that it is growing and developing in preparation for its entry into the "outside world"? Or does it experience it simply as a growing restriction on its previous freedom to move, as the space within which it dwells becomes more and more cramped, until at last its limbs are tightly wrapped around itself and it is able to move only with the greatest difficulty?

And what about the birth process itself? How does it experience contractions as it feels itself being pushed by forces beyond its control, head first, against a seemingly immovable wall? To the extent that it is able, does it think that it is dying?

It's interesting, isn't it, that one of the common features in many peoples' "near death" experiences is the sense of going down a dark tunnel toward a bright light -- something like traveling down a birth canal.

Dear Lord Jesus, as I gradually experience the physical restrictions that come with aging and finally the death process itself, help me to remember that what we call the "throes of death" are really only the labor pains for being born into the fullness of new life with You. Amen.

Carrying others to Jesus

"They came bringing to him a paralytic carried by four men. Unable to get near Jesus because of the crowd, they opened up the roof above him. After they had broken through, they let down the mat on which the paralytic was lying. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic,
'Child, your sins are forgiven.'"--Mark 2:3-5 (NAB)

We all in one way or another have been brought to Jesus thanks to the faith of others. Some of us were brought to Baptism as infants, thanks to the faith of one or both of our parents. Others came to the Lord as adults, borne by the faith of friends or maybe an author we read or someone we heard on the radio or saw on TV.

In addition to the actions of others that we're aware of, we have all been brought to the Lord by the prayers of others. Two months before she died of tuberculosis at age 24, St. Therese said to her sisters, "How often have I thought that I may owe all the graces I've received to the prayers of a person who begged them from God for me, and whom I shall know only in heaven." (St. Therese of Lisieux, Her Last Conversations, July 15, 1897)

Lord Jesus, help me to be both humbled and grateful for all the people, known and unknown, who have borne me by their faith to You throughout my life. And help me--in my words, actions, and especially my prayers--to persevere in bringing others to You. Grant me the faith, determination, and perseverance of the friends of the paralytic, not giving up until those You have given me to carry to You are at Your feet and You speak to their hearts the word of healing that they need to hear. Amen.

Open our eyes, Lord, that we may see!

"When the servant of the man of God arose and went out, he saw the force with its horses and chariots surrounding the city. 'Alas! he said to Elisha. 'What shall we do, my lord?' Elisha answered, 'Do not be afraid. Our side outnumbers theirs.' Then he prayed, 'O LORD, open his eyes, that he may see.' And the LORD opened the eyes of the servant, and he saw that the mountainside was filled with fiery chariots and horses around Elisha." -- 2 Kings 6:15-17 (NAB)

The great cloud of witnesses that surrounds us is not there merely to encourage us and give us good example. We are surrounded by the powerful servants, the hosts of the armies of GOD!

I find it very helpful to remind myself of two key attributes of God: that He is all-powerful and all-loving. That God is all-powerful is a tenet of many religions. But the fact that God is all-loving -- that He is Love Itself -- that is unique to the Judeo-Christian tradition.

This can be a life-changing reality for us. For the fact that He is all-powerful and all-loving means that He will use that power on my behalf. Too often, though, I forget that He stands ready to exercise that power, if I would only ask. Even those things that appear to be triumphs of evil, He can work for the good of those who love Him (cf. Rom. 8:28). How much more peaceful my life would be if my eyes were open to this truth!

Dear Lord Jesus, please open my eyes to the truth that You are all-powerful and, because of Your unchanging love for me, stand ready to exercise that power on my behalf. May this truth transform my life and the lives of all Your People. Amen.

Abortion: The "Dark Sacrament"

"Be sober and vigilant. Your opponent the devil is prowling around like a roaring lion looking for [someone] to devour." -- I Peter 5:8 (NAB)

I have heard abortion referred to as a "dark sacrament" of the evil one. When you consider it in terms of the sacramental vision of the universe, the term takes on an even deeper meaning.

Abortion kills a child in its mother's womb, or in some cases even partially out of the womb. In a similar way, the evil one is trying to kill us, prevent us from being born into the kingdom of Heaven. Abortion is, in a sense, a visible sign of this invisible reality.

There's a key difference, though. A child cannot do anything to protect itself from being killed through abortion. Mortal sin, which kills the soul by separating it from God, requires that the action be seriously wrong (i.e., "grave matter"); that we know that it's seriously wrong; and that we freely choose to do it anyway (cf The Catechism of the Catholic Church, para. 1857ff.) In other words, we have to cooperate in our own destruction.

But God has provided a remedy by sending His Only Son, Jesus, Who, like the innocent pre-born child, suffered death at the hands of the evil one. But three days later, He came to life again, victorious over death, and He now offers to share that victory with all of us who, unlike the pre-born child, have cooperated in our own destruction. He will restore us and raise us to life again with Him. All we have to do is cooperate in our resurrection to life by saying, "Yes" to Him.

My dear Lord Jesus, thank you so much for Your indescribable Mercy. Please help us, and all people, to never despair, but to always turn to You for new life. Amen.

Earth in the midst of Heaven

"... no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived, what God has prepared for those who love Him..." -- I Corinthians 2:9 (RSV)

In recent years, I've joked with friends that I've developed "Adult-Onset Attention Deficit Disorder," referring to my seeming inability as I get older to maintain focus the way I used to. :-) In light of my "AOADD", I don't know why I thought I'd be able to maintain focus on a single topic like Elijah-Elisha for several weeks! I've interrupted it once already, and I'm going to do it again. Yes, I'm planning to get back to it at some point, but right now I have other thoughts pushing to the front of my brain, so I'm going to try to get some of them down first.

This week at my parish we had an excellent guest speaker, Fr. Michael Keating, a professor at the University of St. Thomas in Minneapolis. He opened a new series at our parish on the Catholic World View. By the time this post goes up, the talk should be up on our parish's audio Web site, ctkcc.libsyn.com. It would be well worth taking the time to listen to it.

One of the many things that Fr. Michael mentioned that really struck me was his observation that our society has lost a "sacramental vision" of the world, that is, that all of creation is a mingling of the visible and the invisible, what is seen and unseen. Just as a sacrament is, among other things, a visible sign of an invisible reality, so for the Catholic mind the whole universe is sacramental, everything that is visible reveals something deeper.

His remarks brought to mind an image that I first started thinking about more seriously several years ago when I read the excellent book Midwife for Souls by hospice nurse Kathy Kalina. As implied in the title, she compares the process of dying to the birth process.

This started me thinking about the pre-born child in her mother's womb. Does that baby have any idea that she is surrounded by an entire world beyond her imagination? Yes, she can hear her mother's heartbeat and probably some other sounds; she may even have experiences of her mother's or father's hand caressing her through the wall of the womb. But does she have any idea that there is light and space and people surrounding her, loving her, eagerly awaiting her arrival in the "other world" beyond the womb? Truly her eye has not seen, her ear has not heard and her heart cannot conceive of what God has prepared for her.

I think we are much like that child in the womb. We are surrounded by the spiritual world, by "a great cloud of witnesses" (Heb. 12:1), full of beings--human, angelic, and divine--who love us beyond imagining. This world is not visible to our physical eyes, but it is close, very close, as close as a family is to their child/sibling in the womb. If we have a "sacramental vision," we can see the signs pointing to this great reality and let that reality transform our lives.

Dear Lord, open the eyes of our hearts and spirits to see the cloud of witnesses surrounding us. May the knowledge that we are surrounded by such a world of love transform our approach to this world and to those who share this world with us. Amen.

The Elishas: Awe-inspiring and beseiged

When Herod realized that he had been deceived by the magi, he became furious. He ordered the massacre of all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity two years old and under, in accordance with the time he had ascertained from the magi. -- Matthew 2:16 (NAB)

I've long felt that the Lord has something very special in mind for the Elisha generation. What is particularly amazing to me is how the evil one seems to have sensed this, and so has tried to destroy them even from their mothers' wombs, just as he tried to destroy Jesus shortly after His birth. Those he was not able to destroy in the womb he has continued to pursue with all the terrible things that "the world, the flesh, and the devil" can devise.

But those who have surrendered their lives to the Lordship of Jesus are showing signs of becoming amazing young men and women. Recently I was looking at the blogs of two of our young adults who are serving the Lord full-time in third world countries. I also had the opportunity to watch on YouTube the vocation stories of some young men that I know who are in seminary. I marvel at the generosity of these young men and women in their response to the Lord, a generosity that is by no means unique to them. It is truly awe-inspiring.

Dear Lord Jesus, I praise and bless You for what You are doing in the lives of the "Elishas." I ask You to protect from harm those who have already surrendered their lives to You and to snatch from the jaws of the lion those who are in danger of being destroyed. May Your will be accomplished through, with and in them, both now and forever. Amen.

Solomon: a warning to the Elishas and to all

When Solomon was old his wives had turned his heart to follow other gods, and his heart was not entirely with the LORD, his God, as the heart of David his father had been. -- I Kings 11:4 (NAB)

In some ways, the story of Solomon is one of the saddest in Scripture.

He started out with everything he needed to be a success. His father David had provided him with the kingship, with victory over his enemies, and with a big head start on all the materials needed to successfully fulfill his mission of building the Temple. And he himself acted wisely at the beginning by eliminating his internal enemies and humbly asking God for wisdom to lead His people.

But early on, there are signs of later trouble ahead: He married Pharoah's daughter in order to ally himself by marriage with the king of Egypt (cf. I Kings 3:1). This shows a lack of trust in God to defend his kingdom, as further demonstrated by subsequent marriage alliances with many other nations. But even worse, he directly violated one of the commandments of the Lord to Moses (cf I Kings 11:2, Ex. 34:11-16). The Lord had given Moses that commandment precisely because He knew the danger that would come to the Israelites from intermarriage with the pagans around them, a danger to which Solomon eventually succumbed.

So even though Solomon was successful in fulfilling his mission of building the Temple for the Lord and was wildly successful in the eyes of the world, he was, in the end, a failure in the eyes of God. He lost sight of the true definition of success, that is, being faithful to the Lord to the end.

As a result, instead of ending his years like his father David, "rich in years and wealth and glory" (I Chr. 29:28), he died bitter and disillusioned, writing near the end of his life, "Vanity of vanities, all is vanities." (Ecc. 1:2) And the legacy that he left for his son Rehoboam was not a strong kingdom, like what he had been given by his father David, but a kingdom on the verge of division and ruin, as a result of his sins.

Solomon's life stands as a warning to all, especially the Elishas. It is not enough to begin well. We must also persevere to the end, not only for our own sakes, but for the sakes of those who will follow us. For every Elisha is an Elijah to the generation to follow.

Dear Lord, in Your great mercy, please grant all of us the grace of perseverance in following You faithfully to the end. Amen.

David: what not to do

When King David was old and advanced in years, though they covered him with blankets he could not get warm... -- I Kings 1:1 (NAB)

The Book of Kings opens with a picture of King David as a man who is clearly in failing health. Yet he is still reigning as king and, even though the Lord has made it clear to him that he is to be succeeded by Solomon, David has not yet passed the power to him.

His failure to act sets up a nearly disastrous situation as one of his other sons is plotting to seize the throne as soon as David dies, and maybe even before. Fortunately, the prophet Nathan intervenes and David has Solomon declared king and seated on the royal throne.

It's a temptation for all of us to hold on to power and authority. But we have to remember that we receive all gifts, including power and authority, from the Lord, and the time will come when we have to pass it on to our successors. If we try to hold onto the baton when the time has come to pass it off, the race can be lost.

Dear Lord, help me to recognize when the time comes to pass the batons that You have given me to my successors. May I, and all the Elijahs, allow the Elishas to fulfill their roles in Your plan. Help us to take our identities, not in what we do in this life, but in our relationship with You. Then we will have the grace, when the time comes, to let go of the baton in peace, trusting in Your loving plan for us and for the generation to come. Amen.

David: what to do

David said: “My son Solomon is young and inexperienced; but the house that is to be built for the LORD must be made so magnificent that it will be renowned and glorious in all lands. Therefore I will make preparations for it.” Thus before his death David laid up materials in abundance. -- I Chronicles 22:5 (NAB)

David loved the Lord with all his heart, so it must have been a great disappointment to have been told that he would not be the one to build the Temple. In particular, he might have wondered over the reason why he could not build it, because he was "a man of blood." After all, had he not been doing the Lord's will when he waged all those wars? Why should the Lord then hold it against him now?

But David did not rebel or grumble over the Lord's choice. Instead, he decided to do what he could to assist his son, by making preparations for the work that Solomon would have to do, laying up "materials in abundance."

The thought occurred to me a while back that I and others of the Elijah generation should do what David did -- help the Elishas by making preparations for the work that they will have to do. Part of those preparations come by being faithful, as David was, to the call that God has put on our lives now, which lays the groundwork for what the Elishas will do later. But the other thing that we can do is lay up "building materials" for them in the form of prayers and sacrifices, the graces of which they will then be able to draw on later.

Lord, please help me both to be faithful to what You are giving me to do now and to offer prayers and sacrifices for what You will be giving the Elishas to do later. Amen.

Elijah-David, Elisha-Solomon

David died at a ripe old age, rich in years and wealth and glory, and his son Solomon succeeded him as king. -- 1 Chronicles 29:28 (NAB)

King David was Israel's greatest king. He established Israel as a kingdom in a way that Saul was unable to do. He established Jerusalem as his capital city. Most importantly, he lived and died as "a man after God's own heart" -- not perfect by any means, but always repentant and returning quickly to the Lord after his sins.

Yet, in spite of all this, David was not the one to build the great Temple for, as he recounted to Solomon, the Lord told him, "You may not build a house for my name, because you have shed too much blood upon the earth in my sight." (I Chr. 22:8) The Lord chose Solomon to build the Temple and established him, in one sense, as an even greater king than David.

There are several things to be learned from this Elijah/Elisha pair, more, I'm sure, than I'm aware of, but in the next few posts I'd like to try to capture a couple of them.

Elijah: the temptation to despair

"Elijah prayed for death: “Enough, LORD! Take my life, for I am no better than my ancestors.” -- I Kings 19:4b (NAB)

Elijah had been running the race well. He had delivered the Word of the Lord to the people of Israel and had persevered through the 3+ years of drought and famine that followed. He had seen the Lord provide for him miraculously during that time. His faithfulness and trust in God had been rewarded by a spectacular victory in head-to-head combat with his enemies, during which the Lord had displayed His power in a spectacular way, which appeared to have opened the eyes of the people to the truth, leading to the slaughter of his enemies.

So why is Elijah now, just a short time later, on the verge of despair?

After this incredible display of the power of the true God, his life is threatened by the pagan queen, Jezebel. Instead of standing his ground and trusting that the Almighty God will come to his defense, Elijah, who just a day or two before was so courageous, succumbs to fear and flees. Now, hiding in the wilderness, he laments his cowardice and prays for death since, "I am no better than my ancestors."

No matter how powerfully we have seen God work in or through us, we are always just one step away from a fall. We are fallible human beings, and, as Brother Lawrence said, left on our own, we will always fall. Sometimes the Lord even allows us to fall -- note that I wrote "allows," not "makes" -- just to remind us that apart from Him, we can do nothing. (Jn. 15:5) When that reminder of our nothingness comes, we often experience great disappointment in ourselves, a disappointment that can even, if we're not careful, become a temptation to despair.

When that time comes (note that I wrote "when," not "if"), we must ask the Lord for the grace to humbly put our hope once more entirely in Him. If we do, we will find that He quickly comes to our aid, as Elijah himself experienced:


He lay down and fell asleep under the solitary broom tree, but suddenly a messenger touched him and said, “Get up and eat!” He looked and there at his head was a hearth cake and a jug of water. After he ate and drank, he lay down again, but the angel of the LORD came back a second time, touched him, and said, “Get up and eat or the journey will be too much for you!” He got up, ate, and drank; then strengthened by that food, he walked forty days and forty nights to the mountain of God, Horeb. (I Kings 19:5-8)

Dear Lord, when we fall, may we never hesitate to turn, brokenhearted, back to You. For our success is measured, not by who we are, but by Who You are--Our All-Powerful, All-Merciful Father. Grant us the grace to persevere in running the race, sustained by Your Love, most perfectly provided for us in the Eucharistic Heart of Your Son Jesus. Amen.

Running the race

Do you not know that the runners in the stadium all run in the race, but only one wins the prize? Run so as to win. -- I Corinthians 9:24

St. Paul talks about the Christian life as a race, but by saying that "only one wins the prize," he makes it sound like we're each running on our own. Although that is true to an extent, there's another very real way in which the race is a relay. In fact, you could look at salvation history as a whole, long sequence of one runner or generation passing the baton to the next.

There are several key points in a relay race, especially if the relay is a marathon.

• The first runner who has been running a long time may be nearing the point of exhaustion, yet can't yet see the person to whom the baton will go next. When that happens, it's important for the first runner to persevere when the temptation comes to give up.
  
  
• There is a point in the race when runners can see each other, but the second runner can't just wait for the first runner to arrive and then start. The two runners will be on the course at the same time, with the second runner picking up speed. The goal is for both runners to be running at full speed, stride for stride, at the time of the handoff.
  
  
• Most important is the timing of the handoff itself. If the first runner lets go too soon or hangs on too long, the baton can be dropped and the race in danger of being lost.

Lord Jesus, help us to run so as to win. Whether we are preparing to receive the baton or pass it on, help us to learn from our brothers and sisters of the past who have followed the exhortation of St. Paul to run so as to win. Amen.

We interrupt the regularly scheduled reflections...

I really was trying to follow a single line of thought through for a period of several weeks in this blog. I had even when I had time written several which I've scheduled to be posted over the next couple of weeks, a trick I learned from one of my regular blogging friends. :-)

But some news broke today that I feel is of such importance that I just have to comment on it. I've already sent in a letter to the editor of the Detroit News, as well as sent an email to a number of friends (not as many as I wanted since hotmail told me I had "exceeded my daily limit," even though I'd sent my Christmas e-letter to the same list 4 weeks ago with no trouble :-( ). But even though it will be repetitive, I feel the need to blog about it, too, just in case someone else may some day stumble upon these words.

In what has sometimes been called "the culture wars," I really try to pick my battles, but a decision was announced today by Health and Human Services that, due to its far-reaching consequences, should be, for all those who value freedom of religion and conscience, a call to arms--not in terms of physical weapons, of course, but in terms of action and, above all, prayer. The Dept. of Health and Human Services announced that, despite the objections of thousands of faith-based organizations, all employers must include in their health plans free access to sterilization and to any drug or device that the FDA terms "contraception," including those that cause early abortions. The only "conscience clause" is so narrowly defined that it would not include thousands of Catholic and other religiously-affiliated hospitals, schools, and social service agencies. This mandate goes into effect in 2013.

As Cardinal-designate Timothy Dolan of New York stated so eloquently after the announcement, "In effect, the president is saying we have a year to figure out how to violate our consciences.” He later stated, "Never before has the federal government forced individuals and organizations to go out into the marketplace and buy a product that violates their conscience." To put it another way, the Obama administration is stating by this mandate that health care--as they define it--is a basic right, but some people will be able to get this basic right only if they give up another basic right, freedom of conscience.

This is simply the latest volley in what Gov. Rick Perry has called "this administration's war on religion." Anyone of faith or good will who thinks that this attack on freedom of conscience will not eventually impact them needs to study history. Even if you are not concerned with or don't agree with the Catholic Church about this particular issue, if we let this go unchallenged, then someday the hand of government will reach out to touch an issue of conscience that does concern you--only by then, the momentum of precedent may make it too difficult to fight back.

Above all, please pray, since this is, at its core, a spiritual battle. May the Lord Jesus grant us grace to know and do His will. Amen.