Two Saints: a Perfect Blend

September 4 is the feast day of my patron saint, Rosalia. Not too many people in this country have that name and even fewer know her as a saint. Because she was also somewhat connected to the Benedictines, I thought I should tell you something about her.

Sources tell us that Rosalia was born in Sicily of Norman nobility and was perhaps a descendant of Charlemagne. In spite of this aristocratic background, she was drawn to live as a hermit and spent most of her life in a cave on Mount Pellegrino, a short distance from Palermo. Benedictines in a nearby monastery witnessed and admired Rosalia’s life of prayer, solitude and penance. Along with these monastics, many local people climbed the mountain to come close to Rosalia, attracted by her reputation for holiness. Rosalia died in 1160 at the age of 35.

A few hundred years later Palermo was threatened by the plague. Ardent prayers to Rosalia were believed to have spared the city and gave birth to an enduring devotion to the  “Dear Little Saint,” or “La Santuzza,” as she was affectionately called in the dialect.

Bringing Rosalia closer to home, my eldest brother’s birthday falls on her feast day. His age this year: 92! Following the tradition of being named after the paternal grandmother, two of my cousins were also named Rosalie; one of them (my favorite) lived to be 93. It doesn’t hurt to be connected to such longevity!

As I’ve noted in earlier posts, when I became a Benedictine Oblate I chose Mary Magdalene for my second patron. She is known as the Apostle to the Apostles because Jesus commissioned her to tell the other apostles of his Resurrection. We don’t know anything about her apostolic activities after that, though legend has it that she spent time evangelizing in France. Last year, Pope Francis elevated her feast day to the same level as the Twelve.

Rosalia and Magdalene together add up to give me a perfect model for my spiritual life: solitary prayer and spreading the word of Christ. St. Ignatius refers to these combined traits as being a “contemplative in action.” This is such a sound teaching, compared to the divided concept of being either a Martha or a Mary. Quiet prayer inspires us to serve Christ and then it supports us in that service.

Traditions eventually do change. Not too many children today are named “after” anyone in their family or even in the family of saints. I guess the theory is they must make their own glory.

As happens so often with young children, I didn’t care much for my given name. As I recall, the main reason was that the capital “R” was difficult to write in script! The other reason was that it was so “different.” There were not very many children of my ethnicity in my school. Instead, I was surrounded by Mary Pats, Susans, JoAnnes, etc. Back then, I didn’t know anything about La Santuzza, and certainly nothing about Mary Magdalene except for her wrongful association with the Gospel’s women of ill repute.

Once I began to learn more about these wonderful women, I came to appreciate the power of their example. Before I even knew that St. Rosalia had been a hermit, it seems that some of her spiritual genes had been passed on to me in my fascination with the eremitic life. And I deeply loved the passionate devotion of Mary Magdalene as she stood by the cross and later clung to Jesus in her joy and relief at seeing him after the Resurrection.

I often pray to these saints and would be happy to imitate them in their love and devotion to Christ. Through this brief post at the very least, I hope to bring honor to their names.

Transfiguration of Christ; Transformation of Christians

For me, the narrative of the Transfiguration of Jesus is one of the most mysterious in the Gospels.

At the top of Mount Tabor, Peter, James and John were allowed a vision of Jesus in the company of major Old Testament prophets, Moses and Elijah. His position at their center, along with the command of the Father to listen to him, emphasized Jesus’ authority and supreme holiness. No wonder the apostles were astonished and wanted to stay there indefinitely! They had already, through Peter, announced their belief that Jesus was the promised one of God, the Messiah. The Transfiguration vision cemented that belief.

But there is another aspect to this vision that touches us personally.

Jesus, fully human and fully divine, allowed his apostles to observe his divinity. What they were also observing (but weren’t yet ready to understand) was their own eventual transformation into the very image of the divine, since through Christ we are made children and heirs of the Father.

Why did Jesus tell the Apostles to say nothing about this event until after his Resurrection? Could it be because they were far from understanding or accepting so bold a concept as our own divinization? We needed the spiritual strength and insight that would be offered to us only after the Resurrection and the Pentecost.

Are we ready even now?

The late Jesuit theologian Karl Rahner said, “[t]he Christian of the future will be a mystic, or he will not exist at all.” Mysticism, he wrote, is “a genuine experience of God emerging from the very heart of our existence.”

The Transfiguration tells us that our faith must transcend robotic habits. We aren’t meant to spend our earth-years with our eyes half-shut, stumbling through what appears to be a hopeless world. There’s too much that we’re missing if we do not open our hearts to the experience of God of which Rahner speaks.

A constant and growing search for deeper intimacy with Christ and his teachings is what will bring about our transformation into the divine, as Christ showed us and his disciples at the Transfiguration.

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“The days which begin on the feast of the Lord’s transfiguration and end on the threshold of Our Lady’s glorification provide an opportunity for the Christian faithful to reflect on God’s transforming grace at work in their lives, and to seek from the Lord whatever they need to deepen that grace not only in themselves, but indeed in the Church and world.”

These are the opening words of a Transfiguration Novena provided by Father John Colacino of Rochester. If you would like to join us in praying this Novena starting on the Feast of the Transfiguration (August 6) and ending on the eve of the Assumption (August 14), please make your request via the  “Leave a Reply” or “Comment” section and it will be sent to your email address.

Play here: “What a Wonderful World”  

Bread from Heaven

Eucharist 2 He therefore let you be afflicted with hunger, and then fed you with manna, a food unknown to you and your ancestors, so you might know that it is not by bread alone that people live, but by every word that comes forth from the mouth of the Lord.

(Deuteronomy 8:3)

 . . . you nourished your people with food of angels
and furnished them bread from heaven,
ready to hand, untoiled-for,
endowed with all delights
and conforming to every taste.

For this substance of yours revealed your sweetness
toward your children,
and serving the desire of the one who received it,
was changed to whatever flavor each one wished.
(Wisdom 16:20-21)

In the beginning was the Word . . .
And the Word was made flesh and made his dwelling with us.
(John 1:1, 14)

I am the bread that has come down from heaven.
My Father gives you the true bread from heaven.
I am the bread of life;
whoever comes to me will never hunger,
and whoever believes in me will never thirst.

(John 6:32, 35)

 

The Unending Gift

I tell you the truth, it is better for you that I go. For if I do not go, the Advocate will not come to you. But if I go, I will send him to you. (John 16:7)

Why did Christ consider his absence so important? Couldn’t Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit, joined from all eternity with the Father, co-exist on this earth, even with us?

Abba, Father!
Though he was leaving, Jesus did assure us that he would not leave us orphans.

Ah, that word! I understand “orphan” very well, having lost my father before the age when I might have remembered him. Richard Rohr, in an interview, referred to the prevalence of “father hunger” among men doing time in prisons. The apostle Philip asked Jesus, “Just show us the Father; that will be enough.” Even though Philip had lived with Jesus for all that time, he didn’t realize that he was already seeing the Father in the Person of his Teacher who always lived in the presence of his Father:

The one who sent me is with me. He has not left me alone, because I always do what is pleasing to him. (John 8:29)

Reaching for the Eternal
One possible explanation for Christ insisting on the need for his absence  is that we must learn to stretch our spiritual capacity by reaching for the very soul of God, almost on our own. Jesus would physically leave but not abandon us, as he 
then lavished the Holy Spirit upon us.

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” says the old proverb. This statement might be true in Harlequin romances, but not in real life. Absence makes the heart hurt. And well Jesus knew this, and emphasized how much we need to reach out to the Holy Spirit, detaching ourselves little by little from all that is not Spirit, thus preparing to become true children of the heavenly Father.

Our vision, like Philip’s needs to extend beyond the physical, beyond the absence, beyond that empty space that we think is nothingness, reaching ultimately to that world beyond, into the “kingdom that is not of this world.”

Sometimes referred to as the “forgotten” person of the Trinity, we come to realize the importance of the Spirit in how Jesus refers to Him, especially in the Gospel of John. Here Jesus names the Spirit Comforter, Advocate, Paraclete. The Spirit is the One who will stand by us always, to enlighten and strengthen  us, to appeal to the Father on our behalf, and to speak for us in our clumsy efforts at prayer (see Romans 8:14-17).

The Unending Gift
St. Paul tells the Ephesians that we have been “sealed with the promised holy Spirit, which is the first installment of our inheritance toward redemption as God’s possession.”  (Eph. 1:13b-14a) “Sealed”: fixed, glued to the Spirit, 
never to be separated from God (despite Christ’s apparent absence). We have been given the Spirit and with this, an everlasting legacy as God’s children, adopted through our brotherhood with Christ.

For those who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you received a spirit of adoption, through which we cry, “Abba, Father!” The Spirit itself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ. (Romans 8:14-17)

Therefore, from this season on, we do not need to sing the hymn “Come, Holy Ghost.” The Holy Spirit is already overflowing within us. All we have to do is to recognize and accept the Spirit of Christ and the Father, so that we may receive with joy the gift of our unending adoption into the Trinity. 

We don’t need to understand the Trinity. We only need to bask in it.

Trinity 1

Past Imperfect, Future Perfect

A Grammar Lesson?? 

As a kid, I was one of those weird ones who loved grammar.

Yes, I know. What does this have to do with the Ascension? Bear with me. 

This week we celebrate the Ascension, a major feast that offers an opportunity to review the past of Christ’s life, and the future of our life with him in the Father’s dwelling place. It is precisely those words expressing TIME that led me to today’s meditation.

When I studied (and later taught) Latin, I was introduced to verb tenses different from those  in our own English language. In Latin, something wasn’t simply past: it could be past imperfect, which meant that it continued over a period of time. On the other hand, past perfect expressed an action that was completely over and done with. For example,  “I was writing (imperfect) this post, when my pencil broke (perfect).”

[You’ll be relieved that I don’t plan to get into the more complex verb forms, such as pluperfect, future perfect and the subjunctive.]

Yes, we grammarians are weird, but as with everything in life, there’s a spiritual lesson to be discovered here. “In grammar??” you say, incredulously. Yes, even in grammar. After all, the Catechism tells us that “God is everywhere.” St. Ignatius teaches us to find God in all things, and Thérèse of Lisieux Open Bookclaimed that everything is a grace. Let me explain.

All of us live in the past imperfect tense, that is, in a state of continuous imperfection. Our past has not only continued to accumulate events every second and every hour of every day, but our handling of these events are more often than not glaringly imperfect, in the sense of flawed. It is these past imperfect/flawed events that weigh us down with negative feelings such as regret, guilt, self-recrimination, and blame. It is for this past that Christ’s forgiveness and the Sacrament of Reconciliation have been given to us. Dwelling on the imperfect moments of our past squanders both our physical and spiritual energy, and deprives us of the peace that Christ offers us.

Though ascended into heaven, Christ is still present with and in us. In Christ and in Christ alone, is the future truly perfect, since he has gone to prepare a place for us in his Father’s heavenly dwelling, so that where he is, we also shall be. This is our future perfect, our perfect future.

Where, then, will our imperfect past have gone? It has now become Past Perfect, for in the merciful mind of God it is not only past and forgiven; it is totally forgotten.

May we all one day ascend with Christ to our perfect, timeless eternity.