A Sunday Thought to Start the Week Off Right
Back to those friends in the Communion of Saints we introduced last Sunday. Besides the joy of having saints for friends, there's the consolation you get when sharing your thoughts and feelings, especially your concerns, anxiety and sadness, with a friend.
For me, it's a work in progress, this developing friendship with certain saints. It didn't exactly start with the discovery of the real friendship we can have with saints; more like a recovery of the idea. I distinctly remember my thoughts about Mary and St. Joseph as a little kid: imagining what life was like with Jesus in Nazareth; as Christmas drew near, thinking about their travels to Bethlehem for His birth; on Christmas imagining them hovering over Him in the manger with the animals surrounding them - stuff like that.
Then there were saints about whom we learned in my Catholic grammar school. For example, St. Therese, the Little Flower; or St. Maria Goretti, the young girl murdered while resisting the unwanted, aggressive sexual advances of an older man. The images of these saints were vivid. There was a certainty and clarity about their reality. They were present not in any vague, theoretical way. Even as we knew they were in Heaven, we also understood that each was here and now in some way reachable. You saw them, somehow, when you prayed to them, read about them, thought about them.
I distinctly remember choosing my Confirmation name: Stephen, the first martyr. I learned of his story in the Acts of the Apostles. I recall being struck deeply that his feast day is the day after Christmas - Christmas, that ultimate day of joy followed by a martyr's feast. I knew it wasn't mere coincidence. I understood the connection with the joy of the Savior's birth and the love of Stephen for Him, such that he gave his life for Him. We were well versed in our Holy Catholic Faith in those days.
Unfortunately, over time, the clarity and reality of the friendship we can have with saints blurred. Why? Was it the result of the 1960s, the confusion after Vatican II that forced onto us the Novus Ordo Mass while pushing aside the Extraordinary Form of the Mass (Tridentine Rite) that I grew up with? Did the insidious modernist teachings of my Jesuit educators penetrate my mind and pervert my understanding of the truths of my Catholic Faith, almost, for a time, tearing it from my soul? Or was it simply my own sinfulness and spiritual sloth that turned me away from the proper and regular observance of my religion for a regrettable number of years? Maybe some combination of all of the above?
Well, thanks be to God, things changed over time. The reversion didn't happen overnight; but it happened. And in light of our theme about the Communion of Saints and our relationship with them as friends, I'll share the following.
A while back, I took my young children to Manhattan the day after Christmas. We observed a kind of tradition of going to Manhattan at some point during the week after Christmas. It was a part of our Christmas celebrations and was fun for all. This particular year we attended noon Mass at St. Patrick's Cathedral. December 26th being the feast of St. Stephen, the priest wore red. Surrounding him were the red poinsettias that traditionally decorate our altars at Christmas. You might imagine the celebrant, dressed in red vestments, surrounded by the incredible array of poinsettias befitting the magnificence of this beautiful cathedral. In that moment, my "friend" St. Stephen touched me again after so many years. I remembered why I had chosen him as my Confirmation saint. He became again, and remains, my friend. Would that I can love Christ as did he both during his life and when facing his death.
If you haven't already "befriended" any specific saints, get on with it. They're ready, willing, and able to respond. Ask them, whom you already know as your intercessors in Heaven, to become your most intimate friends. Share your joys, sorrows, suffering and anxieties with them.
And to one of my best friends, for all of you...
St. Stephen, pray for us.
For me, it's a work in progress, this developing friendship with certain saints. It didn't exactly start with the discovery of the real friendship we can have with saints; more like a recovery of the idea. I distinctly remember my thoughts about Mary and St. Joseph as a little kid: imagining what life was like with Jesus in Nazareth; as Christmas drew near, thinking about their travels to Bethlehem for His birth; on Christmas imagining them hovering over Him in the manger with the animals surrounding them - stuff like that.
Then there were saints about whom we learned in my Catholic grammar school. For example, St. Therese, the Little Flower; or St. Maria Goretti, the young girl murdered while resisting the unwanted, aggressive sexual advances of an older man. The images of these saints were vivid. There was a certainty and clarity about their reality. They were present not in any vague, theoretical way. Even as we knew they were in Heaven, we also understood that each was here and now in some way reachable. You saw them, somehow, when you prayed to them, read about them, thought about them.
I distinctly remember choosing my Confirmation name: Stephen, the first martyr. I learned of his story in the Acts of the Apostles. I recall being struck deeply that his feast day is the day after Christmas - Christmas, that ultimate day of joy followed by a martyr's feast. I knew it wasn't mere coincidence. I understood the connection with the joy of the Savior's birth and the love of Stephen for Him, such that he gave his life for Him. We were well versed in our Holy Catholic Faith in those days.
Unfortunately, over time, the clarity and reality of the friendship we can have with saints blurred. Why? Was it the result of the 1960s, the confusion after Vatican II that forced onto us the Novus Ordo Mass while pushing aside the Extraordinary Form of the Mass (Tridentine Rite) that I grew up with? Did the insidious modernist teachings of my Jesuit educators penetrate my mind and pervert my understanding of the truths of my Catholic Faith, almost, for a time, tearing it from my soul? Or was it simply my own sinfulness and spiritual sloth that turned me away from the proper and regular observance of my religion for a regrettable number of years? Maybe some combination of all of the above?
Well, thanks be to God, things changed over time. The reversion didn't happen overnight; but it happened. And in light of our theme about the Communion of Saints and our relationship with them as friends, I'll share the following.
A while back, I took my young children to Manhattan the day after Christmas. We observed a kind of tradition of going to Manhattan at some point during the week after Christmas. It was a part of our Christmas celebrations and was fun for all. This particular year we attended noon Mass at St. Patrick's Cathedral. December 26th being the feast of St. Stephen, the priest wore red. Surrounding him were the red poinsettias that traditionally decorate our altars at Christmas. You might imagine the celebrant, dressed in red vestments, surrounded by the incredible array of poinsettias befitting the magnificence of this beautiful cathedral. In that moment, my "friend" St. Stephen touched me again after so many years. I remembered why I had chosen him as my Confirmation saint. He became again, and remains, my friend. Would that I can love Christ as did he both during his life and when facing his death.
If you haven't already "befriended" any specific saints, get on with it. They're ready, willing, and able to respond. Ask them, whom you already know as your intercessors in Heaven, to become your most intimate friends. Share your joys, sorrows, suffering and anxieties with them.
And to one of my best friends, for all of you...
St. Stephen, pray for us.
Happy Sunday!
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