Synod process flows into national Eucharistic Revival

This synod process can flow seamlessly into a Eucharistic Revival because the Mass is where and when the People of God assemble to proclaim and celebrate the ideal of our oneness as the Body of Christ.

By Bishop Joseph R. Kopacz, D.D.

Over the next three years in each (Arch)diocese in the United States there will be a Eucharistic Revival that will invite Catholics across our nation to deepen our love for the Lord Jesus in the Sacrament of his Body and Blood, the Eucharist, the Holy Mass, Sagrada Misa. A church in solidarity on national and international levels has borne good fruit in the Synod process over the past year. The Holy Spirit has led the Catholic faithful in prayer, dialogue and reflection that resulted in diocesan, regional and national syntheses, a lamp for our feet in very challenging times.

Bishop Joseph R. Kopacz, D.D.

This synod process can flow seamlessly into a Eucharistic Revival because the Mass is where and when the People of God assemble to proclaim and celebrate the ideal of our oneness as the Body of Christ. We are now in the diocesan phase of the process which begins this weekend at St. Joseph in Gluckstadt with a Eucharistic Congress.

These congresses are held periodically in order to revive our love for the Eucharist, this extraordinary and ordinary way of encountering the crucified and risen Lord. This Congress is a very apt way to formally introduce the diocesan phase of the revival. Recognizing the limitations with distance, yet all are invited to participate for part of the Congress, for most of it, or all of it.

We will gather for several hours on Friday evening, and then again on Saturday morning, culminating with Mass at 11:30 a.m. We encourages parishes to mark this occasion in their own churches to be in solidarity with the diocese. On Friday evening and Saturday morning at the Congress there will be ample time for adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, personal prayer, the Sacrament of Reconciliation evening and morning presentations on the Eucharist, the Liturgy of the Hours and Benediction. Father Anji Gibson of the Archdiocese of New Orleans will the presenter and homilist. At the core, this time together as well as apart from our normal routines allows the grace of God to stir into flame the gift we received through faith at our baptism. With the image of the flowing waters of Baptism, Jesus’ profound words from his encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well in the Gospel of St. John (4:1-30) can be applied to help us hear his deep desire for our love in return. “If you recognized the gift of God and who it is that is asking you for something to drink…! (v.10)

Father Ajani Gibson of the Archdiocese of New Orleans places the monstrance on the altar. He is the featured speaker at the Diocese Eucharistic Revival on Oct. 28-29 at St. Joseph Gluckstadt. (Photo courtesy of Father Ajani Gibson)

Earlier this year on June 29, the Solemnity of Sts. Peter and Paul, Pope Francis issued an Apostolic Letter Desiderio desideravi. The timing is exquisite from the center of the universal church as a guide for the Eucharistic Revival in our nation. At the outset of the letter Pope Francis explained that his purpose is “to invite and help the whole church to rediscover, to safeguard, and to live the truth and power of the Christian celebration” (of the Eucharist). The Latin phrase Desiderio desideravi recalls the words of Jesus at the beginning of the Last Supper in Luke’s Gospel: “I have eagerly desired to celebrate this Passover with you before I suffer.” (Luke 22:14)

Pope Francis applies profound pastoral and theological meaning to these words at such a critical time in Jesus’ earthly life. “Every time we go to Mass, the first reason is that we are drawn there by his desire for us,” and every reception of communion of the Body and Blood of Christ was already desired by him in the Last Supper.” (6)

The Eucharist is a gift and mystery; and Jesus Christ is present and alive in that sacred space where we encounter the crucified and risen Lord in his Word, his Body and Blood, in his Body the church assembled, in his Mystical Body, and with his resurrected Body in heaven, our destiny. In other words, there is a lot going on, and we pray that the Holy Spirit will open the eyes of our hearts and minds to “recognize the gift,” and to be the gift to sanctify the world, and to be the Lord’s presence in a world that crises out for his saving and reconciling love.

The seasons of ordinary time

ON ORDINARY TIMES
By Lucia A. Silecchia

Recently, I enjoyed one of my favorite rites of autumn – the search for perfect pumpkins for home, office, and anywhere else that might be brightened with glorious gourds. In a long drive through quaint corners of the countryside, I relished the splendor that is autumn.

Yes, the pumpkins were the excuse for the journey. But the trip was made more beautiful by the showy splash of autumn surrounding the corn fields gone gray and the farmhouses hung with Halloween wreaths. There was enough of a crisp chill to announce that summer was gone. Yet, the bright sun that bounced off the red, orange and gold in the trees heralded a new season with a loveliness all its own. I rejoiced in the simple beauty of a world made new.

Lucia A. Silecchia

It will not be long until I marvel again when I awaken to the first snow that dusts my city streets. The silent brightness of that blanket, the sound of my neighbors’ shovels that beckons me out of bed, and the hot chocolate I promise myself when I am back inside are all part of a new type of wonder. (I would rather ignore the icy sidewalks and high heating bill that will follow!) In this, I will rejoice again in the simple beauty of a world made new.

Just when the snowy season starts to lose its charms, there will be shy crocuses rising tentatively from the earth, faint traces of green in lawns coming back to life and trees getting ready to burst forth in the lacy splendor of spring. As the days lengthen and the sun grows brighter, I will rejoice again in the simple beauty of a world made new.

While I might, in the fullness of May, doubt that I would ever want to bid farewell to spring, a day will come when the days last long into the night, tomatoes ripen on the vine, and the beach beckons. Summer will hold joys of its own, and yet again I will rejoice in the simple beauty of a world made new.

I am deeply grateful to live in a corner of the world where seasons change around me and every few months life feels different.

Yet, it is not just in the world around us when seasons change. Life, too, has its own seasons.
Some of the people I admire most are those who have the faith and hope that allows them to welcome each new season of life with the same joy I have when I welcome the new seasons of the world around me.

Some seasons of life are filled with excitement and eager anticipation as the start of the adventures of a new school, new job, new home, marriage and parenthood. Some of those that are most important are those we do not remember well, like the transition from infant to toddler. Some are filled with angst – the so-called terrible twos and the terrible teens – and others with peace. Some seasons change of our own volition when we choose a new path. Other seasons come unwelcomed and unbeckoned.

Some are seasons of dreams fulfilled, and others are seasons when a dream moves out of view. There are seasons of suffering and loss that come to each life, and seasons to surrender the things to which we cling. There are seasons that are filled with companionship and those when, for a time, we find ourselves walking alone.

In the depth of our hearts, there are those seasons when we walk closely with God, and other seasons with the taste of the “dark night of the soul.”

As years pass and I look back at the ways in which life’s seasons have changed, I can see that there is, indeed, something to be grateful for in each of them. At the time, some have seemed to me far more beautiful than others. Yet, in their own way, each season of life made my own heart new – whether I wanted it to or not.

I hope that as I watch autumn unfold and winter follows, it will be a reminder to cherish each season of life – to thank God for the blessings it brings, to ask Him for strength through what it may take away, and say a trusting “Amen” to every season of ordinary times.

(Lucia A. Silecchia is a Professor of Law and Associate Dean for Faculty Research at the Catholic University of America. “On Ordinary Times” is a biweekly column reflecting on the ways to find the sacred in the simple. Email her at silecchia@cua.edu.)

Jesus is in the chapel – Really!

GUEST COLUMN
By Sister Constance Veit, LSP

When I was a kid, I was fascinated by magnets. I loved to watch the little magnetic skaters glide across a mirror in our family’s Christmas village at the flip of a switch and I enjoyed doing science experiments with magnets and iron shavings in school.

I recall a comparison Pope St. John Paul II made between the Eucharist and the force of a magnet’s pole.
“The presence of Jesus in the tabernacle must be a kind of magnetic pole attracting an ever greater number of souls enamored of him, ready to wait patiently to hear his voice and, as it were, to sense the beating of his heart,” he wrote just six months before he died.

Sister Constance Veit, LSP

These words of John Paul II came to mind when I heard about the National Eucharistic Revival launched by the U.S. bishops earlier this year. It is a beautiful, powerful image – the idea of Jesus acting as a magnet drawing people to himself in the Blessed Sacrament.

I have begun to ask myself, do I allow myself to be drawn to Jesus in the tabernacle? Do I cling to him the way iron shavings cling to a strong magnet? Or do I allow myself to be pulled away too easily by distractions and my lack of love?

The Eucharistic Revival will help us to renew our appreciation for many aspects of Jesus’ ultimate gift to us, beginning with the centrality of the Mass as the representation of Jesus’ saving sacrifice on the Cross.

But it seems to me that when all is said and done, our devotion to the Eucharist will be proportionate to our faith in what we call “the real presence” – our unwavering conviction that Jesus is really and truly present on the altar during every eucharistic sacrifice and in every tabernacle around the world.
Our foundress, St. Jeanne Jugan, was not a highly educated woman but she was a person of profound faith and committed action.

She often told the young Sisters to remember the presence of Jesus in the tabernacle, in the poor and in their own souls. And she gave them this very practical advice:

“Jesus is waiting for you in the chapel. Go and find him when your strength and patience are giving out, when you feel lonely and helpless. Say to him: ‘You know well what is happening, my dear Jesus. I have only you. Come to my aid …’ And then go your way. And don’t worry about knowing how you are going to manage. It is enough to have told our good Lord. He has an excellent memory.”

Jeanne Jugan didn’t have an easy life.

As a young person and then the foundress of a religious congregation, she worked hard and shared everything she had with the poor.

Although she chosen to be superior by the young women who joined her and she even achieved a measure of public notoriety, she was treated unjustly by a priest who had been appointed to assist the nascent religious community and stripped of all authority in it, until, 27 years later, she died in total anonymity.

But Jeanne Jugan possessed something no one could take from her – a very real, strong and intimate relationship with Jesus, whom she knew was always waiting for her “in the chapel.” Jesus Christ was real to her – more real than anyone or anything else.

No doubt St. Jeanne Jugan often told Jesus everything that was happening in her life, in both good times and bad.

Pope Francis recently spoke to seniors about how they should pray. I think his words would resonate with our foundress.

The pope said, “If you have some wound in your heart, some pain, and you want to object, object even to God. God will listen to you. God is a Father. God is not afraid of our prayer of protest, no! God understands. … Prayer should be like this: spontaneous, like that of a child with his father, who says everything that comes out of his mouth because he knows his father understands him.”

I believe that St. Jeanne Jugan was like a child with her father. She shared with him from the depths of her heart because she knew that God heard and understood her.

May her example, and the words of Pope Francis, convince you that it’s okay to be honest with Jesus, truly present and waiting for us in every chapel or parish church!

(Sister Constance Veit is the communications director for the Little Sisters of the Poor in the United States and an occupational therapist.)

How to pray when we don’t feel like it

IN EXILE
By Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI

If we only prayed when we felt like it, we wouldn’t pray a lot.

Enthusiasm, good feelings and fervor will not sustain anyone’s prayer life for long, goodwill and firm intention notwithstanding. Our hearts and minds are complex and promiscuous, wild horses frolicking to their own tunes, with prayer frequently not on their agenda. The renowned mystic, John of the Cross teaches that, after an initial period of fervor in prayer, we will spend the bulk of our years struggling to pray discursively, dealing with boredom and distraction. So, the question becomes, how do we pray at those times when we are tired, distracted, bored, disinterested, and nursing a thousand other things in our heads and in our hearts? How do we pray when little inside us wants to pray? Especially, how do we pray at those moments when we have a positive distaste for prayer?

Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI

Monks have secrets worth knowing. The first secret we need to learn from them is the central place of ritual is sustaining a prayer-life. Monks pray a lot and regularly, but they never try to sustain their prayer on the basis of feelings. They sustain it through ritual. Monks pray together seven or eight times a day ritually. They gather in chapel and pray the ritual offices of the church (Matins, Lauds, Prime, Terce, Sext, Vespers, Compline) or they celebrate the Eucharist together. They don’t always go there because they feel like it, they come because they are called to prayer, and then, with their hearts and minds perhaps less than enthusiastic about praying, they pray through the deepest part of themselves, their intention and their will.

In the rule that St. Benedict wrote for monastic life there’s an oft-quoted phrase. A monk’s life, he writes, is to be ruled by the monastic bell. When the monastic bell rings, the monk is immediately to drop whatever he is doing and go to whatever that summons is calling him to, not because he wants to, but because it is time, and time is not our time, it’s God’s time. That’s a valuable secret, particularly as it applies to prayer. We need to go pray regularly, not because we want to, but because it’s time, and when we can’t pray with our hearts and minds, we can still pray through our wills and through our bodies.

Yes, our bodies! We tend to forget that we are not disincarnate angels, pure heart and mind. We are also a body. Thus, when heart and mind struggle to engage in prayer, we can always still pray with our bodies. Classically, we have tried to do this through certain physical gestures and postures (making the sign of the cross, kneeling, raising our hands, joining hands, genuflection, prostration) and we should never underestimate or denigrate the importance of these bodily gestures. Simply put, when we can’t pray in any other way, we can still pray through our bodies. (And who is to say that a sincere bodily gesture is inferior as a prayer to a gesture of the heart or mind?) Personally, I much admire a particular bodily gesture, bowing down with one’s head to the floor which Muslims do in their prayer. To do that is to have your body say to God, “Irrespective of whatever’s on my mind and in my heart right now, I submit to your omnipotence, your holiness, your love.” Whenever I do meditative prayer alone, normally I end it with this gesture.

Sometimes spiritual writers, catechists, and liturgists have failed us by not making it clear that prayer has different stages – and that affectivity, enthusiasm, fervor are only one stage, and the neophyte stage at that. As the great doctors and mystics of spirituality have universally taught, prayer, like love, goes through three phases. First comes fervor and enthusiasm; next comes the waning of fervor along with dryness and boredom, and finally comes proficiency, an ease, a certain sense of being at home in prayer that does not depend on affectivity and fervor but on a commitment to be present, irrespective of affective feeling.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer used to say this to a couple when officiating at their marriage. Today you are very much in love and believe that your love will sustain your marriage. It won’t. Let your marriage [which is a ritual container] sustain your love. The same can be said about prayer. Fervor and enthusiasm will not sustain your prayer, but ritual can. When we struggle to pray with our minds and our hearts, we can still always pray through our wills and our bodies. Showing up can be prayer enough.

In a recent book, Dearest Sister Wendy, Robert Ellsberg quotes a comment by Michael Leach, who said this in relation to what he was experiencing in having to care long-term for his wife suffering from Alzheimer’s. Falling in love is the easy part; learning to love is the hard part; and living in love is the best part. True too for prayer.

(Oblate Father Ron Rolheiser is a theologian, teacher and award-winning author. He can be contacted through his website www.ronrolheiser.com.)

Called by Name

Our Homegrown Harvest effort is working. Not only have we netted four new seminarians in the past year, but we have two men currently in the application process and one more who is in a pre-seminary online program that we offer to guys who are seriously considering a priestly vocation.

The health of a vocation department is not just quality and quantity of candidates; it’s also dependent on building up a good support system for all those who have a hand in promoting and supporting vocations. Here are some other initiatives that we recently ramped up with that in mind:

– We had our first ever POPS event on Sept. 24. The Parents of Priests/Seminarians/Sisters is an effort to support our parents who are supporting their children in discernment. The Knights of Columbus of the Cathedral of St. Peter the Apostle provided dinner. It was a great event. We are looking at doing a Christmas party in December.

Father Nick Adam

– I attended Southeastern Pastoral Institute’s Encuentro Regional (Regional Encounter Workshop) Oct. 12-14 to learn more about working with young Hispanic Catholics in our parishes and helping them discover their vocation. It was a great experience, and I enjoyed the networking and got some good ideas both for vocation promotion and parish best practices for Hispanic ministry. Bishop Kopacz and Faith Formation director, Fran Lavelle also attended this workshop which was held in St. Augustine, Florida.

– We hosted our first ever Bethany Night in mid-October. This was a dinner, talk, and time of adoration for young women open to the call to religious life. Sister Karolyn Nunes, FSGM, was in town and so I asked her to give a presentation to those who attended. Sister Karolyn is the vocation director for the Franciscan Sisters of the Martyr St. George, the same order that Kathleen McMullin, now Sister Mary Kolbe McMullin, entered last year. A great thanks goes to the Knights of Columbus from Holy Savior in Clinton for providing dinner and to this parish for hosting us. I also took Sister Karolyn to St. Joe High School in Madison to speak with two sections of Senior Theology, and that was a great time, the kids were full of great questions.

And our Homegrown Harvest Festival has brought in a record amount to go toward the tuition/books/fees for our nine seminarians. Thank you all for the trust that you have placed in the Lord as we have made a call for support of our men in formation and thank you for you the encouragement you continue to give to young men to consider the call to the priesthood and young women to consider the call to religious life.

CLINTON – Sister Karolyn Nunes, FSGM, speaks with members of the youth group at Holy Savior Clinton as a part of the Vocations office’s first-ever “Bethany Night.” (Photo by Father Nick Adam)

Cómo orar cuando no tenemos ganas

Por Ron Rolheiser

Si solo oráramos cuando quisiéramos, no oraríamos mucho.

El entusiasmo, los buenos sentimientos y el fervor no sostendrán la vida de oración de nadie por mucho tiempo, a pesar de la buena voluntad y la firme intención.

Padre Ron Rolheiser, OMI

Nuestros corazones y mentes son complejos y promiscuos, caballos salvajes que retozan a su propio ritmo, con la oración frecuentemente fuera de su agenda. El renombrado místico Juan de la Cruz enseña que, después de un período inicial de fervor en la oración, pasaremos la mayor parte de nuestros años luchando por orar discursivamente, lidiando con el aburrimiento y la distracción.

Entonces, la pregunta es, ¿cómo oramos en esos momentos en que estamos cansados, distraídos, aburridos, desinteresados ​​y amamantando mil cosas más en nuestra cabeza y en nuestro corazón? ¿Cómo oramos cuando lo pequeño dentro de nosotros quiere orar? Especialmente, ¿cómo oramos en esos momentos cuando tenemos un disgusto positivo por la oración?

Los monjes tienen secretos que vale la pena conocer. El primer secreto que debemos aprender de ellos es que el lugar central del ritual es mantener una vida de oración. Los monjes rezan mucho y con regularidad, pero nunca intentan sostener su oración sobre la base de los sentimientos. Lo sostienen a través del ritual.

Los monjes rezan juntos siete u ocho veces al día ritualmente. Se reúnen en la capilla y rezan los oficios rituales de la iglesia (maitines, laudes, prima, tercia, sexta, vísperas, completas) o celebran juntos la eucaristía. No siempre van allí porque les da la gana, vienen porque son llamados a la oración, y luego, con el corazón y la mente tal vez menos entusiasmados con la oración, oran desde lo más profundo de sí mismos, su intención y su voluntad.

En la regla que San Benito escribió para la vida monástica, hay una frase muy citada. La vida de un monje escribe, debe regirse por la campana monástica. Cuando suena la campana monástica, el monje inmediatamente debe dejar lo que esté haciendo y dirigirse a lo que sea que lo llame, no porque quiera, sino porque es el tiempo, y el tiempo no es nuestro tiempo, es el tiempo de Dios. Ese es un secreto valioso, particularmente en lo que se refiere a la oración.

Necesitamos ir a orar con regularidad, no porque queramos, sino porque es el momento, y cuando no podemos orar con el corazón y la mente, aún podemos orar a través de nuestra voluntad y a través de nuestro cuerpo.

¡Sí, nuestros cuerpos!

Tendemos a olvidar que no somos ángeles desencarnados, con corazones y mentes puras. También somos un cuerpo. Por lo tanto, cuando los corazones y las mentes luchan por participar en la oración, siempre podemos orar con nuestros cuerpos.

Clásicamente, hemos tratado de hacerlo a través de ciertos gestos y posturas físicas (hacer la señal de la cruz, arrodillarse, levantar las manos, juntar las manos, genuflexión, postración) y nunca debemos subestimar o denigrar la importancia de estos gestos corporales.

En pocas palabras, cuando no podemos orar de otra manera, aún podemos orar a través de nuestros cuerpos. ¿Y quién puede decir que un gesto corporal sincero es inferior a la oración a un gesto del corazón o de la mente?

Personalmente, admiro mucho un gesto corporal en particular, inclinar la cabeza hacia el suelo que hacen los musulmanes en su oración. Hacer eso es hacer que tu cuerpo le diga a Dios: “Independientemente de lo que esté en mi mente y en mi corazón en este momento, me someto a tu omnipotencia, tu santidad, tu amor.”

Siempre que hago la oración meditativa solo, normalmente la termino con este gesto. A veces, los escritores espirituales, los catequistas y los liturgistas nos han fallado al no dejar claro que la oración tiene diferentes etapas, y que la afectividad, el entusiasmo y el fervor son solo una etapa y la etapa neófita.

Como han enseñado universalmente los grandes doctores y místicos de la espiritualidad, la oración, como el amor, pasa por tres fases.

Primero viene el fervor y el entusiasmo; luego viene el decaimiento del fervor junto con la sequedad y el hastío y finalmente viene la pericia, la soltura y un cierto sentido de estar en casa en la oración que no depende de la afectividad y el fervor sino del compromiso de estar presente, independientemente del sentimiento afectivo.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer solía decirle esto a una pareja cuando oficiaba su matrimonio. Hoy estás muy enamorado y crees que tu amor sostendrá tu matrimonio. no lo hará Deja que tu matrimonio [que es un contenedor ritual] sostenga tu amor.

Lo mismo puede decirse de la oración. El fervor y el entusiasmo no sostendrán su oración, pero el ritual sí. Cuando luchamos por orar con nuestra mente y nuestro corazón, siempre podemos orar a través de nuestra voluntad y nuestro cuerpo. Presentarse puede ser oración suficiente. En un libro reciente, Dearest Sister Wendy, Robert Ellsberg cita un comentario de Michael Leach, quien dijo esto en relación con lo que estaba experimentando al tener que cuidar a largo plazo de su esposa que padecía Alzheimer.

Enamorarse es la parte fácil; aprender a amar es la parte difícil y vivir enamorado es la mejor parte.

Esto es cierto también para la oración.

(El padre oblato Ron Rolheiser es teólogo, maestro y autor galardonado. Se le puede contactar a través de su sitio web www.ronrolheiser.com. Facebook www.facebook.com/ronrolheiser)

Archives include more than dusty documents

From the Archives
By Mary Woodward
JACKSON – In this installment from the archives, I would like to do two commercials.

First, October is American Archives Awareness Month. Archive collections around the country feature treasures of historical documents, artifacts and visual images. More and more, digital-born images are becoming common place inhabitants of archive collections. This is creating new and challenging ways to manage our collective memory.

The Gulf South region of the United States loves its history and that is reflected in those states attention to maintaining archives. I am proud to say that the State of Mississippi has one of the finest archives in the entire country. Alabama and Louisiana have fine systems as well.

Mississippi State University is home to the papers of President and General Ulysses S. Grant; the University of Southern Mississippi has an excellent library and information science program that trains future archivists. The archives at Ole Miss house a fantastic blues collection along with the “Rowan Oaks” papers of William Faulkner and papers of many other Mississippi authors.

NEW ORLEANS – Mary Woodward served on the environment committee for the “Ars Celebrandi: Something More is Required” gathering of the Federation of Diocesan Liturgical Commissions (FDLC) the first week of October. Pictured is the mosaic of ars celebrandi moments in liturgy featuring Region V bishops and archbishops. (Photo by Mary Woodward)

In terms of Catholic archives, our diocesan archives could be considered a national treasure because of its content dating back to Spanish Colonial times. Our documents on the Civil Rights Movement give witness to the church’s involvement in the struggle for justice during those most turbulent times.

Having visited the archives of the Archdioceses of Mobile and New Orleans, both have similar collections to ours spread throughout entire floors of buildings. The three collections put together capture the history and development of the region through the unique lens of the church dating back to the 17th century.

Archives are repositories of history, kept in a way that reveal history as it was and not as we think it was. Archives prevent us from being nostalgic and seeing the “good ole days” through the proverbial rose-colored glasses. Archives are living, breathing, organic insights into the soul of a community illuminating human nature in its most honest state. I like to call it the Kingdom of Memory.

What we do not often think about is each one of us is a walking archive collection. We keep family photos, birthday cards, love letters, diaries, etc., in our collections. Some of us have drawers neatly organized with our archive while others have refrigerators covered with a collection held together by eclectic magnets. But more importantly our hearts, minds and souls are filled with recollections and even scars of a lifetime. Each moment carefully tucked away in the repository of the kingdom of memory.

The second commercial is for the Diocesan Eucharistic Revival event being held Oct. 28-29, at St. Joseph Church in Gluckstadt. The U.S. bishops conference has created a three-year national Eucharistic Revival journey that began this past Corpus Christi and will culminate with a National Eucharistic Congress in Indianapolis in 2024.

Our diocesan event will include prayer, adoration, opportunities for the sacrament of penance, and conclude with the celebration of the Eucharist with Bishop Joseph Kopacz. This Eucharistic renewal journey naturally flows out of a desire by all of us to deepen our ongoing understanding of the Eucharist.
This past week, I participated in the national gathering of the Federation of Diocesan Liturgical Commissions, FDLC, which is a partner entity of the U.S. bishop’s conference engaged in formation of laity and clergy in fully implementing Sacrosanctum Concilium, the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy.

Our region hosted the gathering in New Orleans and the theme was “Ars Celebrandi: Something More is Required,” which is taken from paragraph 11 of the Constitution. Ars celebrandi is simply translated as the art of celebrating.

The full paragraph is worth noting here: But in order that the liturgy may be able to produce its full effects, it is necessary that the faithful come to it with proper dispositions, that their minds should be attuned to their voices, and that they should cooperate with divine grace lest they receive it in vain. Pastors of souls must therefore realize that, when the liturgy is celebrated, something more is required than the mere observation of the laws governing valid and licit celebration; it is their duty also to ensure that the faithful take part fully aware of what they are doing, actively engaged in the rite, and enriched by its effects.

As part of the environment committee, we created a mosaic of ars celebrandi moments in liturgy featuring our region’s metropolitan archbishops and our own Bishop Kopacz. A highlight of the conference for me was to be able to serve Mass in St. Louis Cathedral as the miter bearer for Archbishop Gregory Aymond. I am grateful for this honor and will certainly file it in my kingdom of memory.

During the Mass in the cathedral, I reflected on paragraph 11 and how much more is required of all of us in understanding the great gift of the Eucharist. Do we really understand the communal nature of worship and the importance of the postures and actions of liturgy as the Body of Christ? Do we know what actually is happening in the sacred mysteries when heaven and earth meet on the altar?

Throughout the next two years in tandem with our synodal encounter journey, we will strive to offer “something more” in an effort to profoundly increase our understanding of these questions. Please join us Oct. 28-29 in Gluckstadt and if you are not able to be there physically for this inspiring event, join us through prayer.

(Mary Woodward is Chancellor and Archivist for the Diocese of Jackson.)

Reflections on St. Martin de Porres and racial reconciliation

Reflections on Life
By Melvin Arrington

Martin de Porres, the first black saint of the Americas, knew bigotry and racial discrimination firsthand. Born in 1579 in Lima, Peru, he was the illegitimate son of a Spanish nobleman and a black woman from Panama. He and his sister Juana were socially stigmatized for being of mixed race. For many years their father refused to acknowledge them as his children, mainly because of their dark skin. Lacking his support, they spent their childhood in poverty.

Discrimination based on race has a long and shameful history. Unfortunately, our country appears in several chapters of that history, with our state comprising an entire chapter of its own. During my childhood, there was no meaningful social interaction between the races, so I was blissfully ignorant of the struggles of people of color.

OXFORD – A stained glass window at St. John the Evangelist Church depicts St. Martin de Porres. Columnist, Melvin Arrington writes the column “Reflections of Life,” this week he reflects on his childhood in segregated Mississippi and the life of this very special saint. (Photo courtesy of Melvin Arrington)

I grew up in the 1950s in the Northwest section of Jackson on a little street off of Northside Drive. This was during the era of separate facilities for schools, hotels, restaurants – everything. And this included housing. There were five houses on my street, all occupied by white families. Adjoining my house, the fifth one, was a huge, overgrown vacant lot functioning as a barrier separating whites from the black families that lived on the other side of it. Families on the two ends of the street didn’t socialize in any way; it was as if they lived on separate planets. I knew there were boys my age who lived beyond that weedy field, but we couldn’t play together. That was just the way things were.

As an illegitimate, mixed-race child, Martin de Porres faced a bleak future because of the way things were during his era. At age 12 he had the good fortune to became apprenticed to a barber-surgeon (a person skilled at bloodletting), an experience that taught him about medicine and how to care for the sick. At 15 he had a vision of Mary, who told him to go to the local Dominican friary and ask to be admitted. He did so, and the Order accepted him as a lay helper, the most he could expect given his color and lack of social standing. In 1603, after serving nine years, he was finally allowed to take full vows as a friar.

Martin worked in the kitchen, laundry, and infirmary and also distributed alms to the poor. Always willing to do any menial chore, he was assigned the task of sweeping floors, earning him the nickname Brother Broom. People also called him Martin of Charity because of his love and passion for service. In addition to devoting much time to caring for the sick and the poor, he founded an orphanage, and took on the task of tending to black slaves brought from Africa, because they had no one to care for them. He even set up a shelter/hospital for stray dogs and cats. Martin never judged a person by his race or social class; in looking at someone in need, he only saw Jesus.

Martin had the gift of healing, sometimes performing an instant cure just by walking into a sick person’s room. Like his good friend, Rose of Lima, he often experienced mystical ecstasy during prayer. Other gifts included the ability to levitate and also to be in two places at once (bilocation). It was said that any room where he went to pray would become filled with light. Another rare talent was his ability to communicate with animals. According to one well-known story, he taught a dog, a cat, and a mouse to eat from the same bowl at the same time.

The beloved Brother Broom died in 1639, surrounded by the Dominican friars. All of Lima turned out to mourn his death. Pope John XXIII canonized him in 1962. His feast is Nov. 3. He is the patron of barbers, hairdressers, black and mixed-race peoples, and social justice. This black saint, who endured the bitter realities of racial prejudice and discrimination and struggled throughout his life to bring diverse peoples together, is also our patron of racial reconciliation.

In Oxford, one of the stained-glass windows at St. John the Evangelist Catholic Church honors St. Martin de Porres. Fittingly, the window was placed in the southeast corner of the building facing University Avenue at precisely the spot where, in the fall of 1962 (the year of Martin’s canonization), U.S. Marshals lined up to begin escorting James Meredith to the Ole Miss campus. After several failed attempts to gain admission to the University, Meredith ultimately enrolled following a night of rioting that left two dead and hundreds injured. All of this bloodshed resulted from the state’s refusal to allow Meredith, an African American U. S. Air Force veteran and native Mississippian, to enroll in one of its institutions of higher learning.

Our state has made much progress since that incident. By way of illustration, here is the rest of my story. In my early thirties, I accepted a teaching position at Ole Miss and moved with my family to Oxford. One day, while having lunch at a civic club meeting, I met an African American gentleman who was a high-ranking administrator at the University. In talking, we discovered we had grown up in the same city and even in the same part of town! When we learned that we had actually lived on the same street, we were shocked! As a child he had lived on the other side of that infamous vacant lot! We had long ago been neighbors and yet, because of segregated housing, we had never met until that day at the civic club. My new-found friend should have been someone I grew up playing baseball with. As a child, we had been deprived of each other’s friendship because that was “the way things were.” Today, when my friend tells our story, he calls it a “Mississippi story.”

St. Martin de Porres, you taught the dog, the cat and the mouse to get along with each other. Pray for us that we might learn how to treat everyone with dignity and respect and live in peace with all our brothers and sisters, regardless of race. Amen.

(Melvin Arrington is a Professor Emeritus of Modern Languages for the University of Mississippi and a member of St. John Oxford.)

Escribiendo tu propio obituario

Por Ron Rolheiser

Llega un momento en la vida en el que es hora de dejar de escribir tu currículum y comenzar a escribir tu obituario. No estoy seguro de quién acuñó esa línea por primera vez, pero hay sabiduría en ella.

¿Cuál es la diferencia entre un currículum y un obituario?

Bueno, el primero detalla tus logros, el segundo expresa cómo quieres ser recordado y qué tipo de oxígeno y bendición quieres dejar atrás. Pero, ¿cómo escribe exactamente un obituario para que no sea, en efecto, solo otra versión de su currículum? Aquí hay una sugerencia.

Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI

Hay una costumbre en el judaísmo en la que, como adulto, haces un testamento espiritual cada año. Originalmente, este testamento estaba más en línea con el tipo de testamento que normalmente hacemos, donde el enfoque está en las instrucciones de entierro, en quién recibe qué cuando morimos y en cómo legal y prácticamente atar los detalles inacabados de nuestras vidas.

Con el tiempo, sin embargo, esto evolucionó para que hoy esta voluntad se centre más en una revisión de su vida, el resaltar lo que ha sido más preciado en su vida, la expresión honesta de arrepentimientos y disculpas, y la bendición, por nombre, de aquellas personas a las que quieras despedir de manera especial.

El testamento se revisa y renueva cada año para que esté siempre actualizado y se lee en voz alta en su funeral como las últimas palabras que desea dejar para sus seres queridos.

Este puede ser un ejercicio muy útil para cada uno de nosotros, excepto que tal testamento no se hace en la oficina de un abogado, sino en oración, tal vez con la ayuda de un director espiritual, un consejero o un confesor. Muy prácticamente, ¿qué podría incluirse en un testamento espiritual de este tipo?

Si está buscando ayuda para hacer esto, le recomiendo el trabajo y los escritos de Richard Groves, el cofundador del Sacred Art of Living Center. Ha estado trabajando en el campo de la espiritualidad al final de la vida durante más de treinta años y ofrece una guía muy útil para crear un testamento espiritual y renovarlo regularmente. Se centra en tres preguntas.

Primero: ¿Qué quería Dios que yo hiciera en la vida? ¿Lo hice? Todos nosotros tenemos algún sentido de tener una vocación, de tener un propósito para estar en este mundo, de haber recibido alguna tarea para cumplir en la vida. Tal vez solo seamos vagamente conscientes de esto, pero, en algún nivel del alma, todos sentimos cierto deber y propósito. La primera tarea en una voluntad espiritual es tratar de enfrentarse a eso. ¿Qué quería Dios que hiciera en esta vida? ¿Qué tan bien o mal lo he estado haciendo?

Segundo: ¿A quién debo decir “lo siento”? ¿Cuáles son mis arrepentimientos? Así como otros nos han lastimado, nosotros hemos lastimado a otros. A menos que muramos muy jóvenes, todos hemos cometido errores, lastimado a otros y hecho cosas de las que nos arrepentimos. Una voluntad espiritual está destinada a abordar esto con una honestidad abrasadora y una contrición profunda. Nunca somos más generosos, nobles, devotos y merecedores de respeto que cuando nos arrodillamos reconociendo sinceramente nuestras debilidades, disculpándonos, preguntando dónde debemos hacer las paces.

Tercero: ¿A quién, muy específicamente, por nombre, quiero bendecir antes de morir y regalarle un poco de oxígeno especial? Somos más como Dios (infundiendo energía divina en la vida) cuando admiramos a los demás, los afirmamos y les ofrecemos todo lo que podemos de nuestras propias vidas como una ayuda para ellos. Nuestra tarea es hacer esto para todos, pero no podemos hacerlo para todos, individualmente, por su nombre. En un testamento espiritual, se nos da la oportunidad de nombrar a aquellas personas que más queremos bendecir.

Cuando el profeta Elías agonizaba, su siervo Eliseo le rogó que le dejara “doble porción” de su espíritu. Cuando morimos, estamos destinados a dejar nuestro espíritu atrás como sustento para todos; pero hay algunas personas, a las que queremos nombrar, a las que queremos dejar una doble porción. En este testamento nombramos a esas personas.

En un libro maravillosamente desafiante, “Las cuatro cosas que más importan,” de Ira Byock, un médico que trabaja con los moribundos, afirma que hay cuatro cosas que debemos decirles a nuestros seres queridos antes de morir: “Por favor, perdóname”, “ Te perdono”, “Gracias” y “Te amo”.

 Él tiene razón; pero, dadas las contingencias, tensiones, heridas, angustias y altibajos en nuestras relaciones, incluso con aquellos a quienes amamos mucho, no siempre es fácil (o, a veces, incluso existencialmente posible) decir esas palabras claramente, sin ningún equívoco.

Una voluntad espiritual nos da la oportunidad de decirlas desde un lugar que podemos crear más allá de las tensiones que generalmente nublan nuestras relaciones y nos impiden hablar con claridad, para que en nuestro funeral, después del elogio, no quede ningún asunto pendiente. con los que hemos dejado atrás.

(El padre oblato Ron Rolheiser es teólogo, maestro y autor galardonado. Se le puede contactar a través de su sitio web www.ronrolheiser.com y www.facebook.com/ronrolheiser)

Sister Thea’s voice resounds for generations to come

By Bishop Joseph R. Kopacz, D.D.

Earlier this month on Oct. 2, the documentary film “Going Home Like a Shooting Star: Thea Bowman’s Journey to Sainthood” was released for public edification and inspiration both in the church and beyond to all Christians and people of goodwill who long for something better for all of God’s children. It is a dynamic nearly hour-long presentation of the life of Sister Thea Bowman, FSPA – the times in which she lived, her impact during her lifetime, and now more than ever her witness in the present and deep into the future.

Bishop Joseph R. Kopacz

It’s a time of great joy for the Diocese of Jackson as we celebrate the life of this religious woman whose story is a remarkable journey of faith. Sister Thea is officially a Servant of God, the first stage for those who are blessed to be on the path to canonization in the Catholic Church. This is a steep climb that follows the narrow road that the church has established for those set apart as faithful disciples who were extraordinary in their walk with the Lord during their time on this earth.

Pope Francis calls such a steady abundance of grace in the life of a person or a community “overflow moments” when the presence of God’s providence is palpable, and the path ahead opens up with new and unexpected ways. The opening prayer at Mass this past weekend expresses this desire for all of our lives. “Lord God, open our hearts to your grace. Let it go before us and be with us that we may always be intent on doing your will.”

Sister Thea had many “overflow moments” in her life of 50 years and certainly would include her entrance into the Catholic Church at age nine, her decision to enter into formation as a Franciscan Sister of Perpetual Adoration in her mid-teens, and her perseverance in her battle with tuberculosis early in formation that did not weaken her resolve in pursuit of her religious vocation. She “had made her vows to the Lord” early in life and her “yes” empowered her to celebrate and endure all that crossed her path until God called her home like a shooting star. The documentary celebrates an abundance of God’s grace across her lifespan.

Her voice will resound for generations to come in many and varied ways. She was a scholar and educator who demanded excellence from her students, young and older. She was a charismatic woman of praise who led congregations to sing out their joy to the Lord. She had a deep love for the truth and her prophetic voice has been heard and will gather more strength over time. She loved the church and its universality and she challenged us to be genuinely one, holy, catholic and apostolic.

She wholeheartedly loved her people and culture, but not over and against the universality and diversity of the Catholic Church in our country and in the world. She upheld the dignity of all of God’s children because we are all part of the family of God. She would have sung out full throated and unsparingly last Sunday’s Responsorial Psalm, “the Lord has revealed to the nations his saving power.”

In the months ahead we will develop a study guide for “Going Home Like a Shooting Star” that will shed more light on Sister Thea’s blessed life. The Holy Spirit surely will open our hearts and minds through prayer, conversation and reflection to follow the Lord more faithfully on the path to holiness, our universal call. On her gravestone is her motto: “I tried.”

May Sister Thea, Servant of God inspire us to try in the uniqueness of our lives and times to live by God’s abundant grace.

JACKSON – Servant of God, Sister Thea Bowman is the subject of a new documentary “Going Home Like a Shooting Star: Thea Bowman’s Journey to Sainthood.” Pictured, Sister Thea Bowman emphasizes participation to music conference attendees, including the choir of Holy Child Jesus Elementary School, at Murrah High School in November of 1986. (Photo form archives)