tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-268839022024-03-07T13:24:53.955-05:00a minor friar blogThe rants and rambles of a brother in Christ, hopefully in the tradition of Francis and Clare.Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.comBlogger2391125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-72372313684949649262023-12-15T16:40:00.001-05:002023-12-15T16:40:14.771-05:00Greccio at 800<p>(This is a reflection I prepared for our quarterly magazine, <i>The Capuchin Journey</i>)</p><p>One of St. Francis of Assisi’s early biographers, Brother Thomas of Celano, relates how St. Francis, three years before his passing from this life, planned and celebrated Christmas in the little hill town of Greccio, located about halfway between Rome and Assisi. Three years before his death would make that the Christmas of 1223, of which we mark and celebrate the eighth centenary this year.</p><p>St. Francis enlisted the help of local friend, a certain nobleman named John, to help gather everything that was necessary for his idea of putting together a living nativity scene. St. Francis exclaimed,</p><p>“I wish to enact the memory of the babe who was born in Bethlehem: to see as much as possible with my own bodily eyes the discomfort of his infant needs, how he lay in a manger, and how, with an ox and an ass standing by, he rested on hay.” (1)</p><p>This desire, to know and to feel the love and suffering of Jesus, to follow in his <i>footprint</i>, was Francis’s particular devotion to Christ and his vocation in him. This desire was most perfectly realized in Francis’s experience of the stigmata, which, as St. Bonaventure writes, transformed the lover, Francis, into the image of the Beloved, Christ. (2)</p><p>When that Christmas Eve arrived, everything was prepared according to St. Francis’s expressed wish. The ox and the ass were led to the spot, the local faithful approached with lamps and torches for light, and the holy Mass of the vigil of Christmas was celebrated over a manger filled with hay. St. Francis himself sang the gospel of that holy night, and preached with remarkable devotion and sweetness on the King born poor, the ‘babe of Bethlehem’ whom Francis loved and desired with all his heart. It is said that contact with the hay from the manger subsequently restored many animals to good health, and even some people as well.</p><p>A curious and yet beautiful vision came to pass during the celebration. One of those present and at prayer, perhaps John of Greccio himself, (3) the friend who had helped St. Francis prepare for that night, saw a baby, apparently lifeless in the manger. St. Francis approached the vision, touched the baby, and awakened him from a deep sleep. St. Bonaventure writes that St. Francis even picked up the baby to embrace him. (4)</p><p>The early Franciscan writers note that this vision of St. Francis awakening the child suited the Christmas moment because of Francis’s mission to awaken the presence of Christ in the hearts of many, to stir up in their souls the love of God and devotion to the newborn Christ of Bethlehem. This invitation remains for us today—an invitation, as we approach Christmas ourselves and the eighth centenary of the celebration at Greccio—to allow the example and devotion of Francis of Assisi to stir up to new life the presence of Christ in our hearts.</p><p>As we set up our own nativity scenes in our homes, or as we pray before them in our churches, let us ask the Holy Spirit for some small share of St. Francis’s own desire to see with his own bodily eyes the hiddenness and poverty of the Lord born in Bethlehem, and even the ‘discomfort of his infant needs’, born away from home and in a place where there was no room for him or his parents at the inn. And may we also find the answer to this prayer in a renewed vision of the suffering Christ in the poor of our neighborhoods and our country as well as in the fear and terror of those in places, much in our thoughts these days, that are suffering the horror of war.</p><p>We need not fear our hearts breaking as we contemplate these sufferings of Christ in the peoples of this world, for if we allow our hearts to break open, we also have hope, and indeed a saving hope. For open hearts are ready to receive the Holy Spirit. And just as at Christmas the Holy Spirit conceives the Word of God as the human life of Jesus of Nazareth, anointing him as Lord and Savior of the world, so the same Spirit, in the same way, can conceive the presence of God in us, making of us Christians, anointed members of Christ after Christ’s own Heart, awakening in us the presence of Jesus.</p><p>Opening ourselves to the Holy Spirit in this way as we approach another Christmas, we can let the Spirit make of our own hearts a living nativity scene, a little ‘Greccio’. And if we fear that our hearts might not be fit for God because they can sometimes harbor darkness or even be a little cold at times, let us rejoice, for the good news of Bethlehem is that it is precisely in such places that God wills—indeed desires—to born among us. In this awareness of the littleness and the poverty of our inner self, where Christ wishes to be born and abide—in order to make us <i>a dwelling place for God in the Spirit</i> (Ephesians 2:22)—we can marvel with St. Francis at the humility and poverty of the God who empties himself into the poverty of our little hearts, so that <i>by his poverty, you might become rich</i> (2 Corinthians 8:9) in blessing and grace.</p><p>Then, having celebrated Christmas within, having prepared a little ‘Greccio’ in our hearts where God hides and makes himself little in order to glorify our littleness and poverty from the inside, let us let that love of God out, into the outside, where the ‘infant needs’ of Christ are heard in the cry of the poor and the cry of the earth. In this way, the Love of God, made incarnate for us at Christmas, may continue to take flesh in the gentleness and charity we reflect out toward a suffering world.</p><p>_____</p><p>1. Francis of Assisi: Early Documents. Vol. I: <i>The Saint.</i> Eds. Regis J. Armstrong, O.F.M. Cap., J. A. Wayne Hellman, O.F.M. Conv., and William J. Short, O.F.M. (New York: New City Press, 1999), 255. (Hereafter FA:ED.)</p><p>2. FA:ED, vol. II: <i>The Founder</i>, 710</p><p>3. FA:ED, vol. I: <i>The Saint</i>, 256, footnote c.</p><p>4. FA:ED, vol. II: <i>The Founder</i>, 610.</p>Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-16302449319853638242023-08-06T14:57:00.000-04:002023-08-06T14:57:06.565-04:00Retreat Report<p>Last week I was at St. Joseph's Abbey in Spencer, Massachusetts for my annual retreat. I've been there for retreat many times, but had not been for twelve years (living in Italy, Covid, and so on). It was a very good week with lots of time for prayer, reading, and reflection.</p><p>The monks made some improvements to the retreat house over its Covid closure, including an expansion of the retreatants' dining room, which used to be a little cramped when there was a full house. They also cleaned up the inner courtyard, which, if I remember correctly, was rather overgrown before. It's lovely now and you can sit out there on a nice day.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8P9mCLh9GEsF0HyC2FYsPq-klE8Eq0zBB9dxvKc_ZN8DANBDrjVv4LJrlxWHU28U5DUHUeq0le9lzdmjbO3baNsVXex4-1l1iyOyHU_iJB0gk39DpsylPGDm7LqOY_EAp5khvpZ5Vz9CXbeVDYUgHRHQ6AoxVlsDtOLI5bkifxU3tYgoYZ6p8ig/s4032/Retreat%20House%20Courtyard.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8P9mCLh9GEsF0HyC2FYsPq-klE8Eq0zBB9dxvKc_ZN8DANBDrjVv4LJrlxWHU28U5DUHUeq0le9lzdmjbO3baNsVXex4-1l1iyOyHU_iJB0gk39DpsylPGDm7LqOY_EAp5khvpZ5Vz9CXbeVDYUgHRHQ6AoxVlsDtOLI5bkifxU3tYgoYZ6p8ig/w400-h300/Retreat%20House%20Courtyard.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p>I had one of the rooms on the west side of the retreat house that have a little tiny enclosed backyard, I guess so you can pretend you're a Carthusian. The weather was good all week so I was able to leave my back door open at night (there's a screen door) and enjoy the cool air and the sounds of nature.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPlbTdQGBCiAxOE8qD_TGDKfuNwEjkmtE7UWVXUHMP_WnI-4Jc33vlDFLBuXNxGfFkHGdrxMkk7INamRl1mBEmz0_0hBJVeJ31HeT_6efGYTUdV6WufG0-ke-MnBQRfMCMyYvW822ZIvb1YQunNaBH7MiAl04f-okhGNVmUp0HY4VGuqjk5DrrqA/s3847/Backdoor,%20Joan%20of%20Arc.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2885" data-original-width="3847" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPlbTdQGBCiAxOE8qD_TGDKfuNwEjkmtE7UWVXUHMP_WnI-4Jc33vlDFLBuXNxGfFkHGdrxMkk7INamRl1mBEmz0_0hBJVeJ31HeT_6efGYTUdV6WufG0-ke-MnBQRfMCMyYvW822ZIvb1YQunNaBH7MiAl04f-okhGNVmUp0HY4VGuqjk5DrrqA/w400-h300/Backdoor,%20Joan%20of%20Arc.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The back door to my room from my little backyard</td></tr></tbody></table><p>It was good to see the monks again, and I recognized a few of them from past visits, though I don't know their names for the most part. They had aged, as I suppose I have as well. One monk introduced himself to me when we were cleaning up after lunch one day, and explained how he had followed his brother, a TOR Franciscan, into religious life. He said that he had been in the monastery for fourteen years, which means he may have been a novice the last time I was on retreat there. He then explained how he had only recently been ordained a priest, within the last year. I thought of asking him for his blessing, but I was worried about the other retreatants getting the idea and it becoming a scene. But maybe I should have done it. As old Fr. John Proppe, may he rest in peace, once told me, "The blessing of a new priest is worth wearing out two horses."</p><p>I saw that there was a novice. Novices stick out in choir with the white scapular. On Thursday there also appeared in choir a tall young man in secular clothes, with a beard that would make a Capuchin novice proud. Maybe he's discerning. One time when I was walking into church I saw the novice helping him find his place in the book, and that gave me delight. Let's pray for the two of them and thank God for their vocations.</p><p>The meals were in silence, of course. On my past retreats we have listened to an audio book, but this time it was music. On one day we started listening to N.T. Wright's <i>Paul: A Biography</i>, but after that it was back to music. There was no explanation for this. I was a little disappointed because I had found the beginning of the book entertaining. Then I thought I would buy the book and finish it myself when I got home, but I haven't done it yet. I have to decide if I'm curious enough for $15.95 (Kindle edition). Maybe the monks and the publisher are in cahoots. They get you hooked on a book, and so forth.</p><p>There were two special events during the week. The first was the solemnity of the dedication of the abbey church on the first full day of the retreat.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP_JfuEFl7HtUkNBHxeBDlJh8ZU5oXeTT_38dlib4KES6mXWnOk9BND0bdffz2ocUyUxMPUJVJ3zwJrcMN4NL8Kpf-aIP5Nbd5TiVwacX2aPTyYQkMS41vXGXiKFYiz4Z8tAETOaGLScEhlEzPuy9n30nHpIMYHJ1Ahqts8gszVbi0bnii0YFujQ/s4032/feast%20day.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP_JfuEFl7HtUkNBHxeBDlJh8ZU5oXeTT_38dlib4KES6mXWnOk9BND0bdffz2ocUyUxMPUJVJ3zwJrcMN4NL8Kpf-aIP5Nbd5TiVwacX2aPTyYQkMS41vXGXiKFYiz4Z8tAETOaGLScEhlEzPuy9n30nHpIMYHJ1Ahqts8gszVbi0bnii0YFujQ/w300-h400/feast%20day.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><p>At the first vespers of this observance, which was the first evening of the retreat, we retreatants were pretty confused about where we were in the psalter, but we seemed to have figured it out by lauds in the morning. I overheard someone saying that there were certain candles around the church that are only lit on this day each year.</p><p>The second special event was the resumption of communion under both kinds, presumably post-Covid. While the priest monks were vesting for Mass on the last morning of the retreat, a monk approached us retreatant-concelebrants in the corner of the sacristy where the albs and stoles are set up for retreatants. (When you register for a retreat, you are asked your height so that an appropriate alb can be set out for you.) The monk instructed us that, starting on that day, we would not receive by intinction, but should consume the host and then drink from the chalice. This went fine for us concelebrants when the time came, but something seemed to go wrong with the logistics of the communion of the other monks and the people in the visitors' galleries. I saw the abbot gesturing to the various priest monks who were ministering Holy Communion as if to redirect them to certain places. He also seemed to be trying to get the attention of the principal celebrant as he descended to the monks and retreatants who were lined up, but in vain. At this the abbot let out what seemed like a sigh of resignation. So it's not just friars, I thought. At that moment I recalled a previous conversation with the monk who was the principal celebrant, in which he exclaimed, "I am a free dancer." It seemed like an odd thing for a Trappist to say. That story is back in <a href="https://friarminor.blogspot.com/2009/07/retreat-notes-quotes.html" target="_blank">this post</a>. </p><p>There was a full house of eleven retreatants. Five of us were priests, or at least five concelebrated at Mass. Of the other six I gathered that two or three were permanent deacons. There seemed to be a couple of groups of two or three on retreat together. Retreatants there together always means more talking, unfortunately, and we were admonished about this in the middle of the week. It was far, however, from the worst group in this regard I have been with on retreat at the abbey. That's another story. I seemed to remember that at previous last breakfasts before departure we were allowed or instructed to talk so one could meet the others he had been praying with (and hopefully for) all week, but in any case it didn't happen this time. It was the usual music, so I finished the retreat without getting to know any of the other retreatants. I prayed for them, though, during the week, for their openness to and discernment of the graces God desired for them during our time at the abbey.</p>Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-74551097931619544222023-06-26T09:33:00.001-04:002023-06-26T09:46:03.163-04:00Bl. Giacinto Longhin on the Universal Call to Holiness<p>Today we have something of an embarrassment of riches in the Capuchin calendar, with two optional memorials of Capuchin blesseds. There's Blessed <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khal%C4%ABl_al-Hadd%C4%81d" target="_blank">James of Ghazir</a> (1875-1954), who was called 'the Lebanese St. Vincent de Paul', as well as Blessed <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giacinto_Longhin" target="_blank">Giacinto Longhin</a> (1863-1936) who was bishop of Treviso, Italy.</p><p>Just for fun, I decided to translate Blessed Giacinto's reading for the Office of Readings today. (You see, here in the anglosphere, our superiors don't love us enough to provide officially updated Capuchin liturgical propers. It's one area, anyway, in which the Italians are ahead of us.)</p><p></p><blockquote><p style="text-align: justify;">Holiness in the Christian and religious life is an obligation. Our ignorance and acedia makes us believe that holiness isn’t possible for us, because we imagine ourselves in ecstasy, as if to be saints we need to have the gift of raptures or of visions or of prophecy or of miracles; we imagine ourselves on the cross, as if it were necessary to make great fasts or perform austerities and penances with the discipline unto blood, with hair shirts, and so on. It’s a trick.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Holiness consists in simpler things that are within everyone’s reach. It is not said to anyone: whip yourself, fast, go into ecstasy … no, this is asked of no one. It is said only that you love God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength, and that you love your neighbor as yourself. It is in this that all the perfection and true holiness of the Christian life is found. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Who in the world can say that they can’t love the Lord? To please him by doing his will shown to us in the commandments of the Decalogue, by the holy Church, and by our legitimate superiors? Who can say, I am not able to avoid deliberate venial sin and failures in charity, humility and obedience?</p><p style="text-align: justify;">St. Thomas, to a sister who asked how she could become a saint, said: If you wish! Do you understand, my dear Maria? If you will to become a saint, it’s done. Grace will not be lacking for you and with grace we are all-powerful.</p></blockquote><p></p>Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-61857624782907020982023-04-29T19:24:00.001-04:002023-04-29T19:24:48.038-04:00Moments of Grace<div>Update to this old post below. As part of my World Day of Prayer for Vocations homily this weekend, I used the story of the kid in the library. Just for fun, I looked him up to see if I could find out what he is up to thirty years later. I found his LinkedIn page. He's an employment counselor. How fitting!</div><div><br /></div><div>Old post:</div><div><br /></div><div>The other day there was a program on TV about St. Maria Goretti. At one point it showed a picture of the priest who gave Maria her first Holy Communion. He looked like a regular, unremarkable priest. I was thinking about him a little. In all of the joys and struggles of his life, whatever they were, in all of the highs and lows of his vocation, that particular moment, when he ministered first Holy Communion to Maria Goretti, was probably one of the most important moments of his life. What I mean is that it was so from God's perspective, from the point of view of the larger economies of grace.</div><br />I think that we're often unaware of the way God wishes to make instruments of us in particular moments with one another. God knows that it works better this way, without the interior tangles of pious self-awareness. In the economies by which God pours out his own sanctity in the world, we never know how God is making use of us.<br /><br />Here's an example from my own life. When I was a senior in college I was considering religious life. There was another kid among the philosophy majors who had been a seminarian. I didn't really know him. One night we ran into each other in the library. He asked me if it was true, that I was thinking of entering religious life. I said that it was. "Good luck with your vocation," he said.<br /><br />For him it was surely an offhand comment, but for me it made a big difference. <span style="font-style: italic;">Your vocation</span>. It made the whole business real. I had been considering religious life, for sure, but as my idea. The idea of being a Franciscan friar attracted me, and so I was thinking of trying it out. I remember standing there after the guy walked away, jarred by the idea of having a vocation, a call from God. He had named something for me with a clarity that I hadn't known. God used him to accomplish an important grace for me at that moment, probably without his having any idea.<br /><br />This is why it's good to pray that God guide our speech and interaction with others, and that we work whatever spiritual practices we need to stay open and attentive when we are with one another. Nevertheless, we may not be aware of the graces God works through us, and mercifully so. God keeps us ignorant of these movements a lot of the time, saving us not only from temptations to vanity but also keeping us from messing up the plainness of grace with the clumsiness of self-conscious piety. So we may get to heaven and find out that the most graced moments of our lives were things we hadn't even thought about. In fact, we may as well presume that this will be the case; it will help us to be humble on this pilgrimage and keep us from taking what we know of ourselves as graced before God, which is very little, too seriously.Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-30031319553804252712023-04-08T23:29:00.000-04:002023-04-08T23:29:57.626-04:00The Easter Itinerancy(An old post updated)<br />
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Every year on this holy night I reflect on the grace of itinerancy that the Holy Spirit has given me; only twice in my whole baptism have I been in the same place for the Easter Vigil for more than two years in a row. When I think about all the places I've been for the Vigil, it puts me in awe of God and in a state of gratitude for my journey.<br />
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Here's my Easter Vigil history:<br />
<ul>
<li><b style="font-weight: bold;">2023</b>: Annunciation, Crestwood, Yonkers, NY (concelebrant)</li><li><b><b>2022</b><span style="font-weight: 400;">: Our Lady of Sorrows, White Plains, NY</span></b></li><li><b>2021</b>: Our Lady of Sorrows, White Plains, NY<br /><br /></li><li>
<b>2020</b>: (COVID-19 pandemic, prayed what is provided in the Liturgy of the Hours for <i>qui sollemni Vigilæ paschali non interfuerunt</i>)</li>
<li><b>2019</b>: Basilica of St. Teresa of Ávila, Rome</li>
<li><b>2018</b>:<b> </b>Basilica of St. Camillo de Lellis, Rome</li>
<li><b>2017</b>: Basilica of St. Camillo de Lellis, Rome (in the 25th year of my baptism)</li>
<li><b>2016</b>: Capuchin General Curia, Rome (concelebrant)<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCux5QlS9bTfxuckljMON0gGw0KOHddXLJaZV6omUmxl63C5q3m_HXIASh4j9Lf5rfSB7eJg8Iu_5h1WAj1rB7dLL9xsR0fBghvPh6VWiS1pnd1c1W9dSxRCgO2S4YyktxEMcuAg/s1600/Easter+2016.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCux5QlS9bTfxuckljMON0gGw0KOHddXLJaZV6omUmxl63C5q3m_HXIASh4j9Lf5rfSB7eJg8Iu_5h1WAj1rB7dLL9xsR0fBghvPh6VWiS1pnd1c1W9dSxRCgO2S4YyktxEMcuAg/s320/Easter+2016.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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</li>
<li><b>2015</b>: (None, didn't feel well. I prayed what the Liturgy of the Hours provides for those who don't take part--first time for that!)</li>
<li><b>2014</b>: Capuchin International College 'San Lorenzo da Brindisi,' Rome (concelebrant)</li>
<li><b>2013</b>: Capuchin International College 'San Lorenzo da Brindisi,' Rome (concelebrant)</li>
<li><b>2012</b>: Monastery of St. Clare, Jamaica Plain, MA (celebrant)</li>
<li><b>2011</b>: Rosary Manor, Dominican Sisters of Peace, Watertown, MA (celebrant)</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><b>2010</b>: Sacred Heart, Yonkers, NY (concelebrant, <a href="https://friarminor.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-first-born.html">initiation of my first born</a>)</li>
<li><b>2009</b>: Sacred Heart, Yonkers, NY (concelebrant)<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW3E_lZqOa9GRRV0CYPjCDqbGj-xCtjs9VU9Rq9R3sTqwbp119-yDVT47J6_XpFKpihsTBDERt4LBqUgO0iRQupdD3iK7w8Ml0tfHE_7xVw-VV9vNfHcJUv4Sv64T-6K0OQi-tYw/s1600/Paschal+Candle+%25282%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW3E_lZqOa9GRRV0CYPjCDqbGj-xCtjs9VU9Rq9R3sTqwbp119-yDVT47J6_XpFKpihsTBDERt4LBqUgO0iRQupdD3iK7w8Ml0tfHE_7xVw-VV9vNfHcJUv4Sv64T-6K0OQi-tYw/s320/Paschal+Candle+%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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</li>
<li><b>2008</b>: Sacred Heart, Yonkers, NY (concelebrant)</li>
<li><b>2007</b>: St. Anne-St. Augustin, Manchester, NH (deacon)<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnP5H0lkZYGQyiXwpbiG8ql4UR7A2Huw8rzSOwU5YgEbEuzM6DF0b37mNg98gfsKp8Liyn_ms0whrozipb9yDVlKaIrAQYGckdOQ7cQzCeFFoNpxky7fRT-Wir4S0NptPGcnZK4w/s1600/Easter+Aatar+2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnP5H0lkZYGQyiXwpbiG8ql4UR7A2Huw8rzSOwU5YgEbEuzM6DF0b37mNg98gfsKp8Liyn_ms0whrozipb9yDVlKaIrAQYGckdOQ7cQzCeFFoNpxky7fRT-Wir4S0NptPGcnZK4w/s320/Easter+Aatar+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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</li>
<li><b>2006</b>: St. Anne, Readville, MA (acolyte)</li>
<li><b>2005</b>: St. Anne, Readville, MA (acolyte)</li>
<li><b>2004</b>: Our Lady of Lourdes, Jamaica Plain, MA (server)</li>
<li><b>2003</b>: Our Lady of Lourdes, Jamaica Plain, MA (server)</li>
<li><b>2002</b>: St. Lawrence Seminary, Mt. Calvary, WI</li>
<li><b>2001</b>: St. Francis Friary, Garrison, NY (server)</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><b>2000</b>: St. Francis Friary, Garrison, NY (lector)</li>
<li><b>1999</b>: St. Lawrence, West Haven, CT</li>
<li><b>1998</b>: St. Lawrence, West Haven, CT</li>
<li><b>1997</b>: St. Lawrence, West Haven, CT</li>
<li><b>1996</b>: St. Mary's, New Haven, CT</li>
<li><b>1995</b>: Holy Cross, Bronx, NY</li>
<li><b>1994</b>: St. Mary's Abbey, Morristown, NJ</li>
<li><b>1993</b>, ?, Verona, Italy</li>
</ul>
<br />
Christ is Risen! Happy Easter!
Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-40702290922154590702022-11-27T13:41:00.001-05:002022-11-27T13:41:51.283-05:00Advent Ramble<p>Advent brings a new year of grace with its promise of a new beginning for each of us. May we enter into this privileged season that the Church calls a time of "devout and expectant delight." (<i>Universal Norms for the Liturgical Year</i>)</p><p>In my early experience of religious life it was beat into us that Advent wasn't a penitential season. Like a lot of what I was taught early on, this needs more nuance. Certainly Advent is a time for <i>metanoia</i>, for turning our attention toward the One who is our deepest delight, to a stance of devout expectation for the God who is arriving fresh in each moment. As John the Baptist will cry out on the Second Sunday of Advent, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand."</p><p><i>At hand</i>. The Kingdom is perpetually <i>about to be</i>. This is the patient and humble God who awaits the friendship of those who will surrender to his kingship in their hearts in whatever the next moment is for them, whether it be prayer or work or rest, or especially a moment of encounter with another soul.</p><p>This attentiveness to the God who is arriving, this <i>adventitious</i> God, is the spiritual work of those of us who live in this graced and blessed time in between the first and second comings of Christ. Advent invites us to a contemplative attentiveness in this in-betweenness, as we look back with joy to the humility of the incarnation and forward to the glory of the final fulfillment of everything in Christ.</p><p>This attentiveness in quiet prayer is what makes a space for God to be born anew in our own hearts. And if our hearts are sometimes dark or cold, let us rejoice all the more, for that is just the sort of place God wills to be born.</p><p>As one of my Capuchin formation directors told us at the beginning of Advent, "Let us begin again for the first time."</p>Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-2209458753699998942021-12-04T12:17:00.000-05:002021-12-04T12:17:05.146-05:00Preparing the Way of the Lord<p>“John went throughout the whole region of the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” (Luke 3:3)</p><div><br /></div><div>John the Baptist is one of the central characters of Advent; he is the Forerunner who prepares the way of the Lord. By repentance and the forgiveness of sins we too prepare ourselves as a place for the Lord to be born anew. By repentance, because when we let go of sin and attachment we make room in our minds and hearts, preparing a space for God within. By receiving forgiveness, because it is by experiencing God’s mercy that we are able to mirror that mercy to others; knowing God’s mercy in our own lives, we become ourselves the way that the Lord prepares for divine mercy to come into the world.</div><div><br /></div><div>(reflection prepared for our vocation office's social media)</div><p></p>Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-80473350231115925362021-08-12T10:18:00.003-04:002021-08-12T10:20:37.302-04:00Life After Traditionis Custodes<p>The other day I received a request: would I be willing, at some point in the near future, to celebrate a Mass in the Extraordinary Form?</p><p>First of all, I presume what was meant was would I celebrate a Mass according to the 1962 Missal, what was called the 'Extraordinary Form' before <i>Traditionis custodes</i>.</p><p>As I started to consider the request I came to realize that the <i>motu proprio</i> doesn't seem to address my situation. The letter gives direction to two kinds of priests:</p><p></p><blockquote><p>Art. 4. Priests ordained after the publication of the present <i>Motu Proprio</i>, who wish to celebrate using the <i>Missale Romanum</i> of 1962, should submit a formal request to the diocesan Bishop who shall consult the Apostolic See before granting this authorization.</p><p>Art. 5. Priests who already celebrate according to the<i> Missale Romanum</i> of 1962 should request from the diocesan Bishop the authorization to continue to enjoy this faculty.</p></blockquote><p></p><p>I take the sense of Article 5 as celebrating in this way regularly or habitually. I have never celebrated Mass in the Extraordinary Form publicly. Ordained right around the time of <i>Summorum pontificum</i>, I learned the older form, curious as I was about this new faculty granted by Pope Benedict, practiced, and celebrated privately a few times. But I haven't done so since leaving the parish assignment in 2010 (I had access to a number of fitting altars there). I also tried to learn the <i>Breviarium Romanum</i> and prayed some of my hours from the <i>Breviarium Romano-Seraphicum</i> sometimes, especially for the little hours, until on my reading of <i>Universae Ecclesiae</i> I decided that such mixing and matching wasn't really allowed.</p><p>In the end I'm glad for these inspirations because I learned a lot about the Mass and even got free chant lessons at one of the Extraordinary Form groups in Boston during my period in the doctoral program at Boston College. And perhaps the "mutual enrichment" that Benedict hoped for in <i>Summorum pontificum</i> has thus been accomplished in my priesthood. Given the closeness I feel to the Pope Emeritus, to know that would give me encouragement and comfort.</p><p>So where does <i>Traditionis custodes</i> leave a priest found already ordained upon its publication but not celebrating according to what was, until that day, called the Extraordinary Form? I'm honestly not sure. Am I like a new priest, needing the permission of the bishop confirmed by the Holy See in order to celebrate with the 1962 Missal, or am I like a priest who was celebrating this way upon the publication of the letter, needing only the authorization of the bishop? Or am I, as I suspect on my reading of the spirit of <i>Traditionis custodes,</i> neither of these things, but simply someone who has lost the faculty to celebrate in the older form, period, and without any justification for seeking to have it back.</p><p>Comments welcome.</p>Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-77625767257650538072021-04-04T08:00:00.002-04:002021-04-04T11:11:33.938-04:00Easter Sunday<p>(Reflection prepared for our vocation department's social media)</p><p>Today we wake up to a new world, a new creation that is risen within us by virtue of what happened last night at the great Vigil in the Holy Night: we were either baptized or renewed the promises of our baptism. This new life rising within us cries out and shakes us awake with the great Easter slogan:<i> If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above!</i> (Colossians 3:1)</p><p>The Resurrection of the Lord and our baptism into the new creation it inaugurates are the deepest of mysteries; this is why Mother Church gives us the longest of her privileged seasons—the fifty days of Easter—to journey into them.</p><p>Today on Easter Sunday there is just the announcement—Christ is risen! Over these fifty days the Easter mystery will unfold into how the Risen Lord is present to us—the Good Shepherd, the Bread of Life, and so on—until we arrive at the great day of Pentecost and the celebration of the Risen Lord’s abiding and animating presence in his Church, the gift of the Holy Spirit.</p>Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-40956846394969982742021-03-07T08:50:00.001-05:002021-03-07T08:50:00.965-05:00Temple, Priest, and Sacrifice<p> (Reflection prepared for our vocation department's social media)</p><p><i>3rd Sunday of Lent</i></p><p>“Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up.” (John 2:19) So replies Jesus to those who protest his cleansing of the Temple. But they don’t realize “he was speaking about the temple of his body.” (2:21)</p><p>What is a temple? In the most general terms, it is a place or structure where sacrifice is offered, typically by priests, who are persons appointed to offer such sacrifices. Jesus Christ is all of these things at once: “the priest through whom we are reconciled, the sacrifice by which we are reconciled, the temple where we are reconciled, and the God to whom we are reconciled.” (St. Fulgentius of Ruspe, Office of Readings for Friday of the 5th week of Lent)</p><p>By our baptism into the death and resurrection of Christ and our communion with him in the Eucharist, we enter into the Temple of his Body and his priesthood enters into us, enabling us to be “built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.” (1 Peter 2:5) This is the priesthood shared by all the baptized. As we continue the journey of Lent, may we enter anew the Temple of the Lord’s Body that his priesthood and his Sacrifice may find a home in us.</p>Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-28584231867644180802021-02-24T08:45:00.001-05:002021-02-24T08:45:08.323-05:00What Kind Of Sinner?<p> (Reflection prepared for our vocation department's social media)</p><p><i>Wednesday of the 1st week of Lent</i></p><p>The people of Nineveh were said to be wicked enough to have their wickedness rise up before God (Jonah 1:2) and yet Jesus offers them as an example of repentance. (Luke 11:32) And their conversion was indeed thorough; even the animals had to fast and wear sackcloth! (Jonah 3:7-8)</p><p>This can serve to remind us—notwithstanding our often sloppy speech about spiritual things—that saint is not the opposite of sinner. A saint is just a sinner who has refused to let the experience of sin—the boredom, frustration, and unhappiness of its ‘empty promises’—harden and close his heart, but instead has allowed this pain to break his heart open, open to God and to his fellow sinners in their suffering.</p><p>On this our Lenten journey toward either baptism or renewal of our baptismal promises at Easter, let us make up our mind to be that kind of sinner.</p>Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-53698379896204635672020-12-24T08:50:00.002-05:002020-12-24T08:50:02.063-05:00Dwelling Richly<p>(Reflection prepared for our vocation department's social media)</p><p>In the first reading for the Mass of Christmas Eve morning we hear how God takes the opportunity of David’s plans to build the house of God, the Temple, to turn the discernment around: it is God, rather, who will <i>establish a house</i> for David. (2 Samuel 7:11)</p><p>At Christmas we see this prophecy begin to come to its final fulfillment. Mary, in bearing the Lord in her womb, becomes the first tabernacle and the exemplar of the Church to come. She is, as St. Francis of Assisi puts it, the <i>Virgin made Church</i>. (<i>A Salutation of the Blessed Virgin Mary</i>)</p><p>Jesus Christ, who was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary, invites us into Holy Communion with him, that we, as the Church, might become a <i>dwelling place for God in the Spirit.</i> (Ephesians 2:22) In this way, the great feast of Pentecost, at which we recall and celebrate the Spirit as the abiding presence of Christ in his Church, peeks out even now at Christmas. Indeed, Pentecost is the fulfillment of the prophecy given to David; God builds for us a house in which he himself will dwell among us, our home and mother the Church.</p><p>As Blessed Isaac of Stella writes: “Christ dwelt for nine months in the tabernacle of Mary’s womb. He dwells until the end of the ages in the tabernacle of the Church’s faith. He will dwell for ever in the knowledge and love of each faithful soul.” (Office of Readings for Saturday of the 2nd week of Advent)</p><p>When you, faithful soul, discover the unique and unrepeatable way that Christ desires to <i>dwell in you richly</i> (Colossians 3:16), you have discerned your vocation.</p>Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-81457600519109988872020-12-06T10:19:00.001-05:002020-12-06T10:19:00.957-05:00Heralds of the Great King<p>(Reflection prepared for our vocation department's social media)</p><p>Each year the 2nd Sunday of Advent recalls the preaching of St. John the Baptist, the Forerunner of the Lord, sent to prepare his way and announce his coming. In this way John is one of the principal characters of the Advent season, which has the “twofold character” of a time to “prepare for Christmas when Christ's first coming to us is remembered [and] as a season when that remembrance directs the mind and heart to await Christ's Second Coming at the end of time.” (<i>General Norms for the Liturgical Year</i>)</p><p>Between the first and final comings of the Lord there is a third—his quiet and hidden arrival in the hearts and lives of those who find the willingness to surrender to grace. This “middle coming is like a road that leads from the first coming to the last.” (St. Bernard, Office of Readings for Wednesday of the 1st Week of Advent). This is where we are in the Advent season, recalling with joy the Nativity of the Lord, looking forward with devout expectation to his final advent at the end of time, and witnessing to his desire to be born anew, here and now, in our own lives.</p><p>Francis of Assisi, while still experimenting and figuring out his own vocation, once fell prey to bandits in the woods. While attacking him they asked who he was. He answered, “‘I am the herald of the great King!’” (Thomas of Celano, <i>First Life of St. Francis</i>, chapter 7) Considering not his own misfortune, he saw in his attackers the suffering of being trapped by evil and sin, and announced to them the good news of God’s Kingdom. Like John the Baptist, Francis found his vocation in announcing the God who desires to arrive in our lives anew in each moment.</p><p>How am I being called to witness to God’s desire to come and dwell in the hearts of the men and women of our time? How will I be a forerunner of the Lord and a herald of the great King?</p>Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-73176062337571517272020-09-01T07:57:00.001-04:002020-09-01T07:57:40.640-04:00New Assignment<blockquote style="text-align: justify;">The provincial minister, with the consent of his council, shall
appoint a provincial secretary from among the brothers in
perpetual vows ... The provincial secretary is accountable only to the provincial
minister.</blockquote><div>(Constitutions of the Order of Friars Minor Capuchin, 135, 1-2)</div><div><br /></div><div>Not much of a job description, but here we go. A little less than a year later, I'm a secretary again.</div>Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-37496293229588062992020-08-09T12:11:00.005-04:002020-08-09T12:11:44.942-04:00Command That I Come To You On The Water<p> Matthew 14:22-33</p><p><i>“Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” </i></p><p>That's how our consent to the journey begins; we wish to recognize God as truly God, we invite him into our lives, offering our wills, offering ourselves and asking to be commanded.</p><p><i>He said, “Come.” Peter got out of the boat and began to walk on the water toward Jesus.</i></p><p>And so our journey to the Lord begins. There is the joy and energy of a first fervor and we set out, walking on the unsure foundation of all our mixed motivations, past traumas, and disordered attachments.</p><p><i>But when he saw how [strong] the wind was he became frightened; and, beginning to sink.</i></p><p>Soon we realize that it is beyond us to approach and much less arrive at the presence of God. We sink in our sins, confusions, wrong ideas about religion and God, and much else besides.</p><p><i>he cried out, “Lord, save me!” Immediately Jesus stretched out his hand and caught him, and said to him, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?</i></p><p>What happens next, if we persevere at this point, becomes the real beginning of a spiritual life. We let our experience of our misery, our inability to even approach God, become compunction. Pierced to the heart, sinking and afraid, looking at our own death by drowning squarely in the face, we cry out in desperation. "Lord, save me!" </p><p>We have realized that even to take a single step in our journey to the Lord, we need him to stretch out his hand and catch us. That outstretched hand is the Holy Spirit. And just as that Spirit stretched forth from the Godhead to conceive the Word of God as the human life of Jesus Christ, so now the same Spirit (if we allow it!) conceives us as Christ-ians.</p><p>With that new experience of faith comes the final realization, that the issues and difficulties in our spiritual journey arise from failing to see clearly that it isn't our journey at all, but the journey of the Son of God in and through our humanity, folding us, gently and mercifully, into the infinitely blessed, happy, and creative reality we call the Holy Trinity.</p><p>So let us invite the Lord, again for the first time, to command that we come to him on the water.</p>Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-60053288172330737572020-06-12T08:33:00.001-04:002020-06-12T08:33:36.302-04:00Traddy SubversionIt is often noted that traddy types are more observant than regular Catholics, but some time ago I heard an anecdote about an exception. (Since the context is the individual's funeral, I delayed posting it for a few years.)<div><br /></div><div>The gentleman was no longer interested in going to church after all of the changes in the latter part of the last century, and this was distressing for his wife. An account of how this tension was resolved was presented at the funeral.<br /><blockquote style="text-align: justify;">One of [the] granddaughters made a beautiful eulogy, at one point explaining that her grandpa didn't like to go to church, but her grandma wanted him to. So when grandma took grandpa to church, he translated all readings and hymns into Latin on the spot and read/sang them loudly that way, which caused grandma not to make him go to church anymore.</blockquote></div><div>Being traddy in order to get out of going to church. That's a new one!</div>Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-66310579345773529082020-05-30T13:53:00.003-04:002020-06-12T08:35:14.588-04:00Pornography, Confession, and Amendment of Life<div>
Recently I saw online a video of a priest preaching about folks who go to confession over and over with the same sin—in this case, pornography—and how they may be 'abusing' God's mercy.</div>
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Certainly pornography is a serious issue. Any priest who hears confessions knows that it has become a serious public health crisis. It has the potential to deform imaginations and consciences and to weaken and even destroy real relationships.</div>
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And it’s true enough, to go to confession without any contrition or willingness to ‘amend my life’ (as we say in a common version of the Act of Contrition), would be something sacrilegious and a sin of presumption on God’s mercy.</div>
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But is that what is going on when people come to confession over and over, especially in the case of this particular problem? In my estimation, no. Or at least it must be rare. I think what is usually the case is that someone wants to make a change, to find freedom from the emptiness and ennui of this problem, but doesn’t know how to begin to succeed.</div>
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They want to make amendment of life, but fail. Why?<br />
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Sexuality is a mysterious and powerful aspect of the person, and it runs very deep. Therefore habits that develop around our living out of our sexuality tend to be deep and powerful as well. And if these habits are bad, they are that much stronger and harder to uproot.</div>
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Moreover, and perhaps getting at what is more sinister and tragic in this particular area, human nature and the effects of original sin being what they are, sex easily gets mixed up with domination, exploitation, and even violence. The pornographers are excellent psychologists, understand this lamentable situation very well and use it in subtle and not-so-subtle ways to instill craving for their product.</div>
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Therefore, to even start to think about dealing with a problem of habitual use of pornography, one has to be as fierce and dedicated as a wicked man who stands to make a lot of money. Unfortunately, for a lot of souls struggling against sin, we lack anything approaching this kind of commitment to prayer and desire for willingness. We are, as the Adam Ant song goes, desperate but not serious.</div>
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“Athanasius, Archbishop of Alexandria, of holy memory, begged Abba Pambo to come down from the desert to Alexandria. He went down, and seeing an actress he began to weep. Those who were present asked him the reason for his tears, and he said,</div>
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‘Two things make me weep: one, the loss of this woman; and the other, that I am not so concerned to please God as she is to please wicked men.’” (Sayings of the Desert Fathers)</div>
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When was the last time I felt so much contrition that I cried?</div>
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In that spirit, an examination of conscience on our contrition itself and desire for willingness can be useful. How much do I really want what I say in the Act of Contrition to be true? As Fr. Cajetan of Bergamo, OFM Cap. writes in his great book on the spiritual life, <i>Humility of Heart</i>:</div>
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"There is a certain will," says St. Thomas, "which had better be called the wish to will than the absolute will itself"; [3 part., qu: xxi, art. 4] by which it seems that we can will a thing and yet not will it. Therefore examine yourself and see whether your desire for humility be only a passing velleity [a wish or inclination not strong enough to lead to action], or really in your will.</blockquote>
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In my estimation, another issue that can impede a sincere amendment of life around these kind of issues is a sad lack of formation and knowledge about the spiritual life. People may be on fire with the desire for God and living a life that is quite devout, but they have never read about how to practice some of the classic tools like examination of conscience, guard of the heart, custody of the eyes, and so on. And they probably haven’t ever heard a priest preach on any of these things either.</div>
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We have two thousand years of spiritual mothers and fathers who have struggled in remarkably similar ways, original sin being quite unoriginal in its later effects, and saints who have written about their own struggles and with teaching for the faithful. Getting to know them is invaluable. It can be surprising and refreshing how explicit some of these teachers of the spiritual life can be around these sorts of topics. Just go look up the twenty-second of John Cassian’s <i>Conferences</i>, on nocturnal emissions.</div>
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Confused or irresponsible confessors can be another issue for folks who are struggling with this sin and who go to confession regularly. I think there are priests who have let themselves get fatigued by hearing the same confessions over and over, and have allowed this weariness begin to weaken their attention to the suffering of the penitent. There are also confessors, strangely enough, who don’t seem to really believe in sin or who seem to be more committed to some pop psychology or worldly anthropology than they are to the teachings of the Catholic faith. Pray for us priests.</div>
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So, are people struggling with pornography and confess their use of it over and over abusing God’s mercy? My experience leads me to say no in almost all cases. They are abusing and hurting themselves, for sure, and may be contributing to the abuse and degradation of others as well. And in many cases they are abusing themselves further by failing to get serious and practical about uprooting sin and avoiding its occasions. They also may not know about the rich tradition of tools our Catholic faith offers them.</div>
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It also has to be noted that the consumption—and I always say ‘consumption’ in the context of confession or spiritual direction to emphasize that its something you are putting into yourself, your heart and imagination—of pornography often goes together with masturbation. I have a post on that matter <a href="https://friarminor.blogspot.com/2016/02/on-masturbation.html">here</a>.</div>
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Finally, for anyone who happens upon this post who is struggling themselves with these issues, another quote from Fr. Cajetan:</div>
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It is in this that the good and wisdom of God is most admirably set forth, that He offers us a means of sanctifying ourselves through our very miseries, and we shall never be able to make the excuse that we could not become Saints because we committed grave sin, when those very sins might have been the means of sanctifying us by urging us to a deeper humility.</blockquote>
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Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-27858137186745236522020-05-12T12:44:00.003-04:002021-05-12T09:29:43.882-04:00Kneeling CrucifiedToday is the feast of St. Leopold Mandić, OFM Cap., (1866-1942), a Croatian who ended up as a noted confessor in Padua. I was reading Pope St. John Paul II's homily for his canonization, and came across this striking paragraph:<br />
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What remained for St. Leopold? Whom or for what did his life serve? He was for his brothers and sisters who had lost God, love, hope. Impoverished human beings, in need of God, who called out, imploring his forgiveness, his consolation, his peace and serenity. St. Leopold gave his life to these ‘poor’, offering his own sufferings and prayer for them, above all in celebrating the sacrament of Reconciliation. It was there that he lived his charism and there that his heroic virtues expressed themselves. He celebrated the sacrament of Reconciliation, carrying out his ministry as if in the shadow of Christ crucified. His gaze was set on the crucifix, hanging on the penitent’s kneeler. The Crucified was always the protagonist. ‘It is he who forgives, he who absolves!’ He who is the shepherd of the flock ...</blockquote>
Italian doesn't make a distinction between the noun <i>crucifix</i> and the adjective (or nominalized adjective, as in this case) <i>crucified</i>. I decided to translate both ways in different instances according to what seemed to me the simplest sense of the text. But I can't help but think that John Paul II meant to indicate a connection between a crucifix displayed in the confessional and the crucified humanity of Christ 'hanging' on the kneeler in the person of the penitent.<br />
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As a priest it's one of the things that strikes you with awe and your own unworthiness, becoming a witness to the suffering Christ in the penitents who come to you.<br />
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I had a wonderful spiritual director right before I entered the Capuchin Order. One time I asked him where God was when I was committing a sin. He looked at me like I didn't know anything.<br />
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"He's suffering with you on the Cross."<br />
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Full text of the homily (in Italian) <a href="http://www.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/it/homilies/1983/documents/hf_jp-ii_hom_19831016_leopoldo-da-castelnovo.html">here</a>.Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-61609841368486210722020-04-10T09:00:00.000-04:002020-04-10T09:00:00.839-04:00The Way of the CrossA cross is first of all an intersection. The Cross of Jesus Christ reveals several: the intersection of deity and humanity, of heaven and earth, and of love and suffering. When love and suffering are joined, they become a sacrifice, a ‘<i>sacer-facere</i>’, a making of something holy. Discernment is the discovery, each day, of what will be the sacrifice I make of my own life, how I will follow in the Lord’s footsteps in suffering love. “I urge you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God, your spiritual worship.” (Romans 12:1)<br />
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In loving prayer and attentive discernment we discover the particular, individual ‘way of the Cross’ to which God invites us. This ‘way’ comes to be revealed not only in the ‘big picture’ of our ‘vocation’ but also in the activities, relationships, and struggles of daily life, which, in the light of the Cross, take shape as opportunities for charity and holiness. Let us seek this ‘narrow gate’ (Matthew 7:13) of our salvation. In the words of St. Bonaventure, the great Franciscan Doctor of the Church, “There is no way except through the most burning love of the Crucified.” (<i>The Soul’s Journey into God</i>, prologue)<br />
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(reflection for Good Friday prepared for our vocation department's social media)Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-60943330112490957632020-04-02T10:34:00.000-04:002020-04-04T11:26:03.970-04:00RIP: Fr. Christopher Dietrich, OFM Cap.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5rCSKA6vilC3CPrkFI1ZQ5Ql9syQ7dy30d62hDrhNjrV-06DwM1lR0nmkbF-HgUfQR_7oEsNC0dOspLzNqtDUytWWlrjn7wU7zzKRqolOMk-8_EuhJXrVp51dgSQ3Ig6bRiKGSA/s1600/Chris+Dietrich.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5rCSKA6vilC3CPrkFI1ZQ5Ql9syQ7dy30d62hDrhNjrV-06DwM1lR0nmkbF-HgUfQR_7oEsNC0dOspLzNqtDUytWWlrjn7wU7zzKRqolOMk-8_EuhJXrVp51dgSQ3Ig6bRiKGSA/s320/Chris+Dietrich.jpg" width="211" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fr. Christopher Dietrich, OFM Cap.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Fr. Chris was one of those friars who kept to himself and did his own thing, so I probably would never have gotten to know him at all except that he was parochial vicar at Sacred Heart in Yonkers when I was sent there for my first assignment. I became the second parochial vicar, the 'junior' one I suppose you could say. He was very attentive to me when I was new, taking me on walks around the parish boundaries and telling me about the history of the neighborhood (he was a native), introducing me to different parks in the area that were good for walks (he was a great walker), and so on.<br />
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As a new priest with a head full of theory and theology but very little sense of what the sacred ministry looked like in day-to-day practice, I was careful to observe the priests around me in those days. I noticed that Fr. Chris was very much appreciated by the people as a confessor and preacher. He had a gift for the sort of folksy preaching that has long been associated with Franciscans.<br />
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Having gone to Fordham for college (where he came under the influence of Avery Dulles), Paul -- as he was known in the world -- entered the Order when he was twenty-two, making him a 'late vocation' by the standards of his time. I always got the feeling that this left him with a hint of alienation with regard to the brothers, as if he were an irregular member. It was something I began to identify with in my developing understanding of the particulars of my own vocation to consecrated life.<br />
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He was one of the few friars of my province who kept his religious name after permission (and encouragement, I suspect) was given to return to use of one's baptismal name. He liked to joke about how his patron saint had been removed from the general calendar, and disputed the allegation of non-existence by producing a relic of St. Christopher that was in his possession.<br />
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Fr. Christopher was also an ordination classmate of the late Fr. Benedict Groeschel, something I didn't realize until we had a celebration for Chris's fiftieth of priesthood and Benedict showed up.<br />
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Perhaps in your charity you could offer a prayer for the eternal rest of this friar and priest, my first colleague in the sacred ministry.<br />
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<i>Requiescat in pace</i>.Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-62387357047543240102020-03-31T11:27:00.000-04:002020-03-31T12:31:02.157-04:00Friars vs. State of Israel(Original post, May 22, 2009)<br />
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Riffing on the case of Dr. Tim Whatley, who was accused of converting to Judaism "just for the jokes," one of my classmates in the Order once mocked me with the accusation that I entered religious life "just for the bizarre stories."<br />
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The story of the Capuchin friary in Jerusalem is one such story.<br />
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Back in the 1930s, responding to the beginning of the twentieth-century flowering of Biblical studies, someone in the Order decided we ought to have a house of studies in Jerusalem, where brothers could live while they studied Sacred Scripture or patristics at the local institutes and universities. Ten years or so later, it was all ready to go.<br />
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But in 1947, before any friars actually studied there, it was commandeered by the British as a military headquarters as the British Mandate was coming to an end. Then, during the 1948 war, the Israelis took it over in the same way. Once independence was established, instead of returning our new house of studies to us, the Israelis turned it into a psychiatric hospital.<br />
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This continued for about fifty years. Israel paid a small rent to the Order for the use of our building, but did not raise it once the whole time.<br />
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However, in order not to lose the property through adverse possession, the Venice province of the Order kept a couple of friars assigned there the whole time, staying in small, adjacent building where the custodian and his mother lived as well!<br />
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At some point in the 1990s, someone decided that enough was enough and the Order hired a Jewish lawyer and sued the government of Israel. The judge not only returned the property to the friars, but awarded all the back rent, adjusted for time and inflation, back to 1948.<br />
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It will now be renovated and turned into a guest house for Capuchins and folks with them on pilgrimage to the Holy Places.<br />
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UPDATE: Fr. Kevin, the guardian, introduces the house:<br />
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<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/WJCcepVI1Yk" width="560"></iframe>Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-76533508883806788422020-03-29T12:00:00.000-04:002020-03-29T12:00:06.562-04:00The Resurrection and the Life<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
Jesus said to her,<br />
“Your brother will rise.” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
Martha said to him,<br />
“I know he will rise,<br />
in the resurrection on the last day.” </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
Jesus told her,<br />
“I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die." </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
(John 11: 23-25)</blockquote>
<i>I am the resurrection and the life</i>. A final hope, a theological concept, is revealed <i>in person</i>. Eschaton made flesh.<br />
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That's the sacramental mystery at the heart of Christianity.Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-78549033768981002932020-03-07T10:00:00.000-05:002020-03-07T10:00:01.822-05:00TransfigurationWith Lent comes the Lord’s invitation: to let ourselves be led up the high mountain where we become our deepest and truest selves. The mountain is prayer. It is there that we discover the call that is God himself. In prayer we get to know God and ourselves, for our true identity is nothing more than who we are in God’s desire for us. This divine desire—or will of God—is revealed in how the call takes shape in our particular circumstances, and so becomes our <i>vocation</i>.<br />
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If we consent to remain on this high mountain of prayer we will have glimpses, visions of Resurrection glory, of the Christ who transfigures creation. These moments will be short and obscure for they are only a touching of the hem of his garment, but they will also be beautiful beyond our own imagining and desire. They may also be frightening, for they call us to a new boldness and single-mindedness in following Jesus. But the vocation is not to be feared, for wherever it leads us, the call is only to him, to Jesus Christ, and to the life of the new creation that dawns in his Resurrection.<br />
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(Reflection prepared for our vocation office to post on its social media for the 2nd Sunday of Lent)Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-85527607979218778142019-12-05T02:30:00.000-05:002019-12-05T02:30:03.734-05:00Some Things I'll MissOn the Monday after Pentecost in 2012 I got on an airplane in Boston and the next morning the guardian of the Capuchin General Curia fraternity and the Secretary General of the Order collected me from the airport in Rome. Now, in the first week of Advent 2019, I'm going home. It's the longest I've been anywhere since growing up.<br />
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These seven and a half years have been a remarkable time in my journey as a Christian and a religious. I have had the opportunity to get to know the Capuchin Order at the international level and have lived and worked with friars from all over the world. Twice I had the opportunity to meet Pope Francis.<br />
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On the other hand, this assignment hasn't always been easy; there have been times of darkness and difficulty for sure. As my first counterpart for Portuguese (I was secretary for English) put it, the best things in Rome are <i>pasta, vino, e Fiumicino!</i> meaning that, ok, the food here is good but what's best is to go home.<br />
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Nevertheless, this has been a time much blessed by God. A lot of that grace I can already discern, but I'm sure much more will be noticed over time.<br />
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There are plenty of things I won't miss about my existence in Rome and Italy. In order to avoid getting negative as I was finishing up my Roman period, I began to cultivate a list of some of the stuff I <i>will</i> miss:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>probably more than anything else, up to date Roman-Franciscan/Capuchin liturgical texts and books</li>
<li>going to Assisi for the day</li>
<li>confession available every day, morning and afternoon</li>
<li>the Capuchin Sisters of Mother Rubatto and the 6 a.m. walk through Villa Borghese when it was my turn to celebrate weekday Mass for them</li>
<li>visits to the <i>Libreria Editrice Vaticana</i> and the <i>Libreria La Leoniana</i></li>
<li>St. Peter's Basilica early in the morning</li>
<li>the Italian Bishops' Conference Liturgy of the Hours mobile app</li>
<li>not having to remember the name of a local bishop at Mass</li>
<li>multicultural Christmas eve suppers with the handful of friars left </li>
<li><i>cappuccino e cornetto</i></li>
<li><i>pizza al taglio</i></li>
</ul>
Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26883902.post-53009840956716438122019-11-10T13:55:00.000-05:002019-11-10T14:08:43.654-05:00Don't Blame MeToday at church they were giving out nice holy cards of the 'Miraculous crucifix that is venerated in parish basilica of St. Teresa on Corso d'Italia in Rome':<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxU0PxfiwHTNhNYg6PmW8WR1_k_Uy4fdkUbIaHGEd1vT_NKOGnKlGbFr8Omd-GeXXZtZZj2zC4AoiG4IizopsB40CZhlNUBJpIZrW9L6HaanrpUnG5lzY7xMgsNmLx06xTM7e5nQ/s1600/Miraculous+Crucifix.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1032" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxU0PxfiwHTNhNYg6PmW8WR1_k_Uy4fdkUbIaHGEd1vT_NKOGnKlGbFr8Omd-GeXXZtZZj2zC4AoiG4IizopsB40CZhlNUBJpIZrW9L6HaanrpUnG5lzY7xMgsNmLx06xTM7e5nQ/s400/Miraculous+Crucifix.jpg" width="257" /></a></div>
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I've spent plenty of time in the basilica in the five years I've lived in this neighborhood, but I had not known that this crucifix was said to be miraculous. At first I noted the non-<i>italiano standard</i> spelling <i>crocefisso. </i>I checked with the Accademia della Crusca online and they say it's fine. But what struck me especially was the curious message on the back of the card:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8LWyLIcUja3cECvFgCJxV3qjdQ7sBXxSwcOwT5CRgHVaqRvlPyXYoFxD_bHYVyywO8lXKlkw0tNrTm9DUUHTRokK-Nb2rEe5Pt0WRI8P_AtiDj_vXL6hH3rCC0rXw0DDxieO7Cw/s1600/Don%2527t+blame+me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1107" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8LWyLIcUja3cECvFgCJxV3qjdQ7sBXxSwcOwT5CRgHVaqRvlPyXYoFxD_bHYVyywO8lXKlkw0tNrTm9DUUHTRokK-Nb2rEe5Pt0WRI8P_AtiDj_vXL6hH3rCC0rXw0DDxieO7Cw/s320/Don%2527t+blame+me.jpg" width="221" /></a></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I am the <b>light</b>, and you don't see me.<br />
I am the <b>way</b>, and you don't follow me.<br />
I am the <b>truth</b>, and you don't believe me.<br />
I am the <b>life</b>, and you don't seek me.<br />
I am the <b>teacher</b>, and you don't listen to me.<br />
I am the <b>boss</b>, and you don't obey me.<br />
I am your <b>God</b>, and you don't pray to me.<br />
I am your great <b>friend</b>, and you don't love me. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
[So] if you are unhappy, don't blame it on me!</blockquote>
If anyone knows the origin, please share!Brother Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07780326836452864455noreply@blogger.com4