Called by Name

Don’t assume. Just ask.

I met Kai Lee I during my final year of seminary studies in New Orleans. One of the priests on faculty, Father Joe Krafft, told me that he had met this man at a parish in the area who was looking for an RCIA program that fit his circumstances. Kai had been married to a Catholic for about 30 years and had raised his son Austin in the faith. He was so active in his parish that most parishioners at Christ the King on the Westbank assumed he was already Catholic, but he hadn’t even been baptized! As Father Krafft listened to Kai’s story and realized he wasn’t baptized, he didn’t assume that Kai had already discerned whether or not to join the church, he asked him!

Father Nick Adam

            Kai began to attend RCIA sessions at the seminary with myself and one of the other seminarians. He was an incredible student who left no stone unturned. He ended up reading through the entire Catechism of the Catholic Church (and he poured through much of it while he was taking instruction from us), and I always had to make sure I stayed up on my own studies so I’d be able to help answer the questions he would come up with during the week. Kai remembers how we would often go over our class time by 30 minutes to an hour just talking about the faith. Kai was baptized and received first communion and confirmation in May 2018. It was a joy filled day, and it was a great joy to see Kai, his wife Vicky, and their son Austin earlier this month as they paid a visit to Jackson.

            The lesson I learned from Kai is one that I use in vocation ministry today: don’t assume, just ask. You may see a young man who is active in his faith and in the church and assume that he has already been encouraged to think about priesthood, or that he’s already discerned and decided against going to the seminary — but don’t assume, just ask! It is so helpful to all of us when we are encouraged by someone to share our gifts. We need that encouragement as human beings, and so never be shy to ask someone if they have considered priesthood and to tell them that they should.

            There is one more step that is important to remember. If you can, make sure you help that person make the next step in their journey. Father Krafft helped Kai get connected to an RCIA program that fit his specific circumstance. You can help a young man that you encourage about the priesthood by putting him in touch with me! Remember that anyone who is interested in priesthood or religious life can call my office to get more information — my direct line here at the office is (601) 969-4020, or send me an email at nick.adam@jacksondiocese.org.

            Don’t assume, just ask. And then help a young man make the next step in his discernment by encouraging him to talk to me!

Writing your own obituary

IN EXILE
By Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI

There comes a time in life when it’s time to stop writing your resume and begin to write your obituary. I’m not sure who first coined that line, but there’s wisdom in it.

What’s the difference between a resume and an obituary? Well, the former details your achievements, the latter expresses how you want to be remembered and what kind of oxygen and blessing you want to leave behind. But, how exactly do you write an obituary so that it’s not, in effect, just another version of your resume? Here’s a suggestion.

Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI

There’s a custom in Judaism where as an adult you make out a spiritual will each year. Originally, this will was more in line with the type of will we typically make, where the focus is on burial instructions, on who gets what when we die, and on how to legally and practically tie up the unfinished details of our lives. Through time, however, this evolved so that today this will is focused more on a review of your life, the highlighting of what’s been most precious in your life, the honest expression of regrets and apologies, and the blessing, by name, of those persons to whom you want to say a special goodbye. The will is reviewed and renewed each year so that it is always current, and it’s read aloud at your funeral as the final words you want to leave behind for your loved ones.

This can be a very helpful exercise for each of us to do, except that such a will is not done in a lawyer’s office, but in prayer, perhaps with a spiritual director, a counsellor, or a confessor helping us. Very practically, what might go into a spiritual will of this sort?

If you are looking for help in doing this, I recommend the work and the writings of Richard Groves, the co-founder of the Sacred Art of Living Center. He has been working in the field of end-of-life spirituality for more than thirty years and offers some very helpful guidance vis-à-vis creating a spiritual will and renewing it regularly. It focus on three questions.

First: What, in life, did God want me to do? Did I do it? All of us have some sense of having a vocation, of having a purpose for being in this world, of having been given some task to fulfill in life. Perhaps we might only be dimly aware of this, but, at some level of soul, all of us sense a certain duty and purpose. The first task in a spiritual will is to try to come to grips with that. What did God want me to do in this life? How well or poorly have I been doing it?

Second: To whom do I need to say, “I’m sorry?” What are my regrets? Just as others have hurt us, we have hurt others. Unless we die very young, all of us have made mistakes, hurt others and done things we regret. A spiritual will is meant to address this with searing honesty and deep contrition. We are never more big-hearted, noble, prayerful, and deserving of respect than when we are down on our knees sincerely recognizing our weaknesses, apologizing, asking where we need to make amends.

Third: Who, very specifically, by name, do I want to bless before I die and gift with some special oxygen? We are most like God (infusing divine energy into life) when we are admiring others, affirming them, and offering them whatever we can from our own lives as a help to them in theirs. Our task is to do this for everyone, but we cannot do this for everyone, individually, by name. In a spiritual will, we are given the chance to name those people we most want to bless. When the prophet Elijah was dying, his servant, Elisha, begged him to leave him “a double portion” of his spirit. When we die, we’re meant to leave our spirit behind as sustenance for everyone; but there are some people, whom we want to name, to whom we want to leave a double portion. In this will, we name those people.

In a wonderfully challenging book, The Four Things That Matter Most, Ira Byock, a medical doctor who works with the dying, submits that there are four things we need to say to our loved ones before we die: “Please forgive me,” “I forgive you,” “Thank you,” and “I love you.” He’s right; but, given the contingencies, tensions, wounds, heartaches, and ups and downs within our relationships, even with those we love dearly, it isn’t always easy (or sometimes even existentially possible) to say those words clearly, without any equivocation. A spiritual will gives us the chance to say them from a place that we can create which is beyond the tensions that generally cloud our relationships and prevent us from speaking clearly, so that at our funeral, after the eulogy, we will have no unfinished business with those we have left behind.

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

Retreat master, Gunn rides rails west, part II

From the Archives
By Mary Woodward

JACKSON – In the last episode we had travelled with Bishop Gunn out West for a series of retreats. He had just arrived in Seattle on Aug. 14, 1918 and found himself with a week before his next engagement.
Seizing a few days off, he left Seattle and made his way across the border to British Columbia in Canada. Bishop Gunn had visited this part of the world before and he comments on its progress, although he makes a very “Gunnian” comment about war rations and the inhabitants of this British province.

“I left Seattle and went up the Puget Sound and spent a few days in Victoria and British Columbia. This was during the hottest part of the war when the Americas were eating stale bread, doing without sugar, sparing of everything and it was strange to find in the British Dominion that restrictions were unheard of. We were starving ourselves for the British and they were growing fat on our service and sacrifice.”

Wow. Bishop Gunn’s candor and wit are priceless moments of discovery. The journey continues below:
“I had been in Victoria and British Columbia years before, but the change and the betterment of both places was a distinct surprise. The trip on the Sound was ideal and when I got back to Seattle I was sorry to leave it.

“Seattle had grown from 20,000 to 600,000 between my two visits although there was not more than ten or fifteen years between the two. I had stopped in a little wooden frame hotel called the Washington. I looked for the same place in 1918 to find a hotel almost as big as the Waldorf-Astoria of New York.

“I enjoyed the week’s rest and left Sunday the 18th for Portland where I was booked to preach the retreat for the Archdiocese from the 19th to the 23rd. Archbishop Christie received me like a prince. I was comfortably installed in the Holy Cross College known as Columbia University and I found the priests attentive and respectful.

“There were about 85 in attendance. I gathered that the men would rather talk then mediate and it was like squeezing blood out of a turnip to me to give six original talks each day. However, I did it and they enjoyed it.

“At the close of the retreat, we had a big dinner at the Archbishop’s house and I was surprised to meet there Mgr. Kelley of [Catholic] Extension and Chas. Denechaud of New Orleans. After dinner we took a drive on probably the finest highway in America – the famous Oregon Highway which runs along the Dalles for fifty or sixty miles and affords scenery which cannot be duplicated anywhere.
“I left Portland for Helena arriving there on August 26th to begin a retreat which ended on the seventh anniversary of my consecration, August 29th.

“There were about eighty priests present and there was more formality in Helena than in St. Paul’s, St. Cloud or in Portland. The bishop, Bishop Carroll, assisted from the throne vested in all his glad rags.
“I tried some heavy stuff on the first day, but I found that the priests were human like everybody else and I switched to things practical and pastoral, with the result that we had really a very interested, I was told, and enthusiastic retreat.

“On Thursday a surprise, and frankly a very welcome one, came to me. The bishop was all apologies and told me that he was up against it – that some state law had come into effect on which all the priests had to take immediate action in view of getting St. Charles’ College accredited as a war college during the period of the war.

“The bishop said it was vital to the diocese that the priests should all hurry home and get busy pulling political strings on Friday and Saturday and make college announcements on the following Sunday. I yielded with internal joy and external resignation.

“The bishop asked me to give a closing lecture on education and as a talk like that needed no preparation on my part, I satisfied the bishop and primed the priests for their work, especially on the following Sunday. The result of their action was that St. Charles got the appointment.

“On Thursday night I left with the priests and many of them came as far as Butte and among them was an ex-Marist who was pastor of one of the Butte churches. I had taught this man in Washington in 1892. He was a little scatter brained and his assignment to Salt Lake College gave him wanderlust and he managed to get identified with the Diocese of Helena. He was a good fellow and I really enjoyed him.

“I got away from Butte on the night of August 29th and spent the two remaining days of August on the train. On September 1st I arrived in Chicago where I ran into a well-organized strike. This strike was among the cabmen, taxi drivers and streetcar men and I found myself at the railroad station and no means to get myself to a hotel.

“The strike was thorough and not a wheel could be turned in Chicago for money. I was in such a pickle that I threw timidity to the winds and asked a gentleman who was driving a private auto to take me to my hotel.

“I was in a city of churches on Sunday, September 1st and I could not find a Catholic Church in Chicago, with the result that I neither said Mass nor heard Mass – a nice example of a man who had been preaching retreats to priests for about a month.”

This concludes our world wind 1918 summer journey across the continent with Bishop Gunn. I hope it gives us a better understanding of and appreciation for our early church leaders in this country. Quite the time…

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

Respect life from the beacon of eternal life

By Bishop Joseph R. Kopacz, D.D.

As Christians, we do have the inside track on the road to eternal life. The Lord Jesus’ resurrection from the dead, and his appearances to the disciples, although not a matter of historical evidence and scientific proof, are breath taking in the scriptures. The wounds, the baked fish and bread, the burning Word, the breaking of the bread, the personal encounters, the forgiveness, the peace, the joy, the gift of the Holy Spirit and the birth of the church.

It may not be the work of the laboratory, but it is the labor of love through faith in the risen One in a bond that can never be broken, and in an eternal promise that is sealed in the Blood of the Lamb. With St. Paul we press on to the finish line (Phil 3:14) because our citizenship is in heaven. (Phil 3:20) For our eyes are fixed not on what is seen but rather on that which cannot be seen. What is visible is transitory; what is invisible is eternal. (2 Cor 5:18)

Bishop Joseph R. Kopacz, D.D.

However, our belief in the resurrection of the body and life everlasting does not place us on the sidelines of this life. Rather, the Holy Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead places us squarely in the thick of this world’s joys and sorrows, tragedies and triumphs, as we await the blessed coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. Indeed, all creation groans and is in labor pains until now…(Romans 8:22), and the Christian groans and grieves with the rest of humanity, but with hope because Jesus is risen. As Jesus said to the woman at the well, the life of God within us is like a spring of water within welling up to eternal life. (John 4:14)

Eternal life has begun and this is the source of our hope in our commitment to respect life across all stages of the human lifespan. With all of the attention of the baseball world on Aaron Judge, a New York Yankee, as he surpasses 60 home runs, the memory surfaced for me of another superstar who packed Yankee stadium back in 1979.

St. John Paul II did not disappoint. Only two years into his apostolic ministry he launched moon shots during his presiding at Mass and preaching that carried far beyond the stadium’s confines into the hearts and minds of Catholics and people of good will around our nation and our world. From the perspective of history, we know that he was a warrior on behalf of life, unborn and throughout the lifespan, and one of his landmark encyclical letters that revealed the depth of his passion, was published around the time of his second apostolic visit to our nation in 1995. In it he warned about a culture of death that was plaguing America.

Back in 1979 with a full stadium as the launching pad, the Holy Father’s words arose from the proclamation of St. Luke’s parable of the rich man and Lazarus. St. John Paul framed his social teaching to follow in the power of evangelization.

“When we Christians make Jesus Christ the center of our feelings and thoughts, we do not turn away from people and their needs. On the contrary, we are caught up in the eternal movement of God’s love that comes to meet us; we are caught up in the movement of the Son, who came among us, who became one of us; we are caught up in the movement of the Holy Spirit, who visits the poor, calms fevered hearts, binds up wounded hearts, warms cold hearts and gives us the fullness of his gifts.”

From this fountain of God’s eternal movement, John Paul II continued: “Catholics of the United States are to walk hand in hand with your fellow citizens of every creed and confession. Unity among you in all such endeavors is essential, under the leadership of your Bishops, for deepening, proclaiming and effectively promoting the truth about human life, the dignity and inalienable rights, the truth such as the church receives it in Revelation and such as she ceaselessly develops it in her social teaching in the light of the Gospel…The parable of the rich man and Lazarus must always be present in our memory; it must form our conscience. Christ demands openness to our brothers and sisters in need — openness from the rich, the affluent, the economically advanced; openness to the poor, the underdeveloped and the disadvantaged.
“All of humanity must think of the parable of the rich man and the beggar. We cannot stand idly by. Nor can we remain indifferent when the rights of the human spirit are trampled upon, when violence is done to the human conscience in matters of truth, religion and cultural creativity.

“We cannot stand idly by, enjoying our own riches and freedom, if, in any place, the Lazarus of the twentieth century stands at our doors. In the light of the parable of Christ, riches and freedom mean a special responsibility. And so, in the name of the solidarity that binds us all together in a common humanity, I again proclaim the dignity of every human person: the rich man and Lazarus are both human beings, both of them equally created in the image and likeness of God, both of them equally redeemed by Christ, at a great price, the price of “the precious blood of Christ.” (1 Pt 1:19)

I close with the following reflection which was a beacon for St. John Paul across his long and fruitful apostolic ministry. He was the missionary disciple without parallel.

“In the cultural wars of the recent past the church has defended the fundamental values of our civilization. We must be proud of those pastors and intellectuals who led those struggles. We must, however, ask ourselves. Is it possible to defend Christian and natural values in the public arena if their root — faith in the living presence of Jesus Christ — has dried up? If the root is rotten the tree will fall; we must first of all seek to strengthen the root. We must become missionary disciples: before preaching the law we must enter the hearts of the people. Only then will we be able to speak with authority, and only then will our people feel that the law is not an external imposition, but the answer to the most profound desire of their heart.” Rocco Buttiglione, Discovering Pope Francis The Splendor of Truth, The Gospel of Life, The Joy of the Gospel!

From one generation to the next you are our hope, O, Lord.

Called by Name

The church is universal, and nowhere has that been more apparent to me than at our Cathedral of St. Peter the Apostle. In my first three months as rector, I have been blessed and pastorally challenged by the diverse backgrounds and needs of our parishioners. After three Masses in English each weekend, our 1 p.m. Spanish Mass welcomes the largest single crowd of the bunch. The pews are truly full at that Mass, it’s pretty cool to see. We seek to serve this diverse community by offering catechesis in both English and Spanish, and I am consistently depending on our bilingual parishioners to help me with homily translations.

Father Nick Adam
Father Nick Adam

In order to serve this community well, facility with the Spanish language is vital. I have some Spanish skills, but not enough, and it is so difficult to find time as a pastor, or as an associate pastor for that matter, to go for an immersion experience in Mexico or Central America. With this in mind, we are going to send several of our seminarians to Cuernavaca, Mexico this coming summer for a two-month immersive experience. This experience is organized by St. Meinrad Seminary, and it is hosted by the Benedictine Monastery of Our Lady of the Angels outside Cuernavaca, which is about an hour and a half from Mexico City (if the traffic is good).

I visited the monastery to observe this program back in July and I was very impressed. Not only do the seminarians get one-on-one instruction from teachers four hours a day, but they also take part in the liturgical life of the monastery, and so the needs of their spiritual life are nurtured while this very practical program plays out. In the future all of our seminarians will be required to take part in this immersion as a part of their second summer in our program, but since the need is urgent and this program is helpful, we are going to send four of our guys (Ryan Stoer, Tristan Stovall, Will Foggo and Grayson Foley) down there this summer to get things kicked off, and I will be going to Mexico with them. I certainly could use the practice, and I hope that this will be a blessed time of camaraderie and fraternity as we take this adventure together.

My first thoughts about a required immersion experience began to take shape a few years ago when I visited the Diocese of Little Rock. Spanish immersion seemed to be a real point of cohesion for their seminarians, and it certainly is a great gift to the Hispanic Catholics in that diocese. Little Rock has consistently had over 20 seminarians, and their demographics are pretty close to ours, so I think they must be doing something right! I am pleased that we are getting this off the ground, and I pray that this will be a great opportunity for our seminarians to grow in love of the church, and the people they will serve, as future priests of the diocese.

On being jealous of God’s generosity

IN EXILE
By Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI

“The cock will crow at the breaking of your own ego – there are lots of ways to wake up!”
John Shea gave me those words and I understood them a little better recently as I stood in line at an airport: I had checked in for a flight, approached security, saw a huge lineup, and accepted the fact that it would take at least 40 minutes to get through it.

Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI

I was all right with the long wait and moved patiently in the line – until, just as my turn came, another security crew arrived, opened a second scanning machine, and a whole lineup of people, behind me, who had not waited the forty minutes, got their turns almost immediately. I still got my turn as I would have before, but something inside of me felt slighted and angry: “This wasn’t fair! I’d been waiting for forty minutes, and they got their turns at the same time as I did!” I had been content waiting, until those who arrived later didn’t have to wait at all. I hadn’t been treated unfairly, but some others had been luckier than I’d been.

That experience taught me something, beyond the fact that my heart isn’t always huge and generous. It helped me understand something about Jesus’ parable concerning the workers who came at the 11th hour and received the same wages as those who’d worked all day and what is meant by the challenge that is given to those who grumbled about the unfairness of this: “Are you envious because I’m generous?”

Are we jealous because God is generous? Does it bother us when others are given unmerited gifts and forgiveness?

You bet! Ultimately, that sense of injustice, of envy that someone else caught a break is a huge stumbling block to our happiness. Why? Because something in us reacts negatively when it seems that life is not making others pay the same dues as we are paying.

In the Gospels we see an incident where Jesus goes to the synagogue on a Sabbath, stands up to read, and quotes a text from Isaiah – except he doesn’t quote it fully but omits a part. The text (Isaiah 61:1-2) would have been well known to his listeners and it describes Isaiah’s vision of what will be the sign that God has finally broken into the world and irrevocably changed things. And what will that be?

For Isaiah, the sign that God is now ruling the earth will be good news for the poor, consolation or the broken-hearted, freedom for the enslaved, grace abundant for everyone, and vengeance on the wicked. Notice though, when Jesus quotes this, he leaves out the part about vengeance. Unlike Isaiah, he doesn’t say that part of our joy will be seeing the wicked punished.

In heaven we will be given what we are owed and more (unmerited gift, forgiveness we don’t deserve, joy beyond imagining) but, it seems, we will not be given that catharsis we so much want here on earth, the joy of seeing the wicked punished.

The joys of heaven will not include seeing Hitler suffer. Indeed, the natural itch we have for strict justice (“An eye for an eye”) is exactly that, a natural itch, something the Gospels invite us beyond. The desire for strict justice blocks our capacity for forgiveness and thereby prevents us from entering heaven where God, like the Father of the Prodigal Son, embraces and forgives without demanding a pound of flesh for a pound of sin.

We know we need God’s mercy, but if grace is true for us, it must be true for everyone; if forgiveness is given us, it must be given everybody; and if God does not avenge our misdeeds, God must not avenge the misdeeds of others either. Such is the logic of grace, and such is the love of the God to whom we must attune ourselves.

Happiness is not about vengeance, but about forgiveness; not about vindication, but about unmerited embrace; and not about capital punishment, but about living beyond even murder.

It is not surprising that, in some of the great saints, we see a theology bordering on universalism, namely, the belief that in the end God will save everyone, even the Hitlers. They believed this not because they didn’t believe in hell or the possibility of forever excluding ourselves from God, but because they believed that God’s love is so universal, so powerful, and so inviting that, ultimately, even those in hell will see the error of their ways, swallow their pride, and give themselves over to love. The final triumph of God, they felt, will be when the devil himself converts and hell is empty.

Maybe that will never happen. God leaves us free. Nevertheless, when I, or anyone else, is upset at an airport, at a parole board hearing, or anywhere else where someone gets something we don’t think he or she deserves, we have to accept that we’re still a long way from understanding and accepting the kingdom of God.

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

Special season of autumn

Kneading Faith
By Fran Lavelle

Autumn comes, even to Mississippi. Perhaps not in the same way as I remember the autumns of my childhood, but it comes, nonetheless. In my mind’s eye I can still see the hills and valleys covered in color swept deciduous trees. The colors, like a patchwork quilt, of vibrant yellows, reds and oranges. Cooling temperatures and open windows at night were the first signs that change was literally in the air. Like diligent ants we stored up the remaining fragments of summer. Apple butter was made in a large copper kettle slowly simmered over a wood fire outdoors. The last of the season’s hay was stacked and stored for winter’s consumption. Field corn was cut and stored in the corn crib. Sweaters and sweatshirts were emancipated from their storage bags and our summer attire was stored away for next year.

Autumn is a special season for many reasons. School is fully underway. Football dominates the airwaves. The temperatures are slightly cooler, and the vestiges of tailgates, hayrides and bonfires are palatable. In the life of the church, autumn represents the beginning of our preparation for the end. Soon will end another liturgical year and reflected in its last days our annual reminder of our own last days. We celebrate All Saint’s Day and All Soul’s Day to remember and honor those who have gone before us. We are called to a stillness in the wake of these autumn days to contemplate our own journey of life and faith.

Fran Lavelle

We have a choice to make as we settle into our autumn. We can hit the pause button and make some time for reflection, or we can burn through the next few months like a well-trained thoroughbred destined to win the Holiday Triple Crown. You know an award worthy yard bedecked with all things Halloween, a Pinterest perfect Thanksgiving and a Griswold meets Martha Stewart Christmas light display. Please don’t get me wrong, I love good décor and I absolutely love a good party. Did anyone say chardonnay? Keep doing the festive things that bring people together in a joyful way. I am in. In the midst of the Holiday Triple Crown, it is also a season that calls us to contemplation and prayer.

I have seen a multiplication of grey hairs in the past few years. Determined to – as the Beatles would say, let it be – I am choosing not to dye it. Rather, I am using it as a reminder as I pass through each season of the year that I am also privileged to pass through these seasons of life. I’m on the countdown for a big birthday next year that starts with 6 and ends with Ohhh! Taking advantage of the opportunities to be more reflective and live more intentionally become more urgent with each passing year.

Yes, the rituals surrounding the seasons can create powerful touch tones that remind us of the sweetness of this life. They can become place markers that keep us connected to our past and serve as reminders to keep making memories as we continue on the journey. But they can also be important touch tones that remind us of things eternal. I remember after my Dad died; I was thinking about his legacy. It made me think about my own. Not legacy like that of a major sports figure or noted philanthropist, but legacy in the ordinary ways that we are called to love and to serve. What was I doing to leave this world better for having me in it? That reflective moment nearly 30 years ago in October was the seed that germinated to become the vocation I live out today.

There are no do-overs in life when it comes to days. They are here and then they are a memory. I am reminded of a line from the movie “The Shawshank Redemption” – “It comes down to a simple choice, really. Get busy living or get busy dying.”

No one is promised tomorrow so for today let’s vow to get busy living. And by living we are not merely existing or stringing together weeks into months into years and calling it good. Living as intentional, reflective, prayerful companions on the journey. Choosing to will the good of the other above ourselves. Choosing to love unconditionally. Choosing to let God guide our steps and the Holy Spirit illuminate the path so that others may follow our example.

Socrates once said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” I challenge you to find time in these early days of autumn to take the time to reflect on the gift of the life you have been given. Look back on your memories of the autumns of your life. We can learn so much about God and ourselves in this season of change.

(Fran Lavelle is the Director of Faith Formation for the Diocese of Jackson.)

Making saints

THINGS OLD AND NEW
By Ruth Powers

Catholic saints have been in the news off and on over the last few weeks. A movie about St. Pio of Pietrelcina has just been released surrounded by discussion of the conversion of its star, Shia LeBeouf, to Catholicism. Pope John Paul I was beatified on Sept. 4 of this year, and a new documentary about Mississippi’s own Servant of God Sister Thea Bowman will debut on Oct. 2. This raises the question in many peoples’ minds: How does someone become recognized as a saint in the Catholic Church?

Ruth Powers

The church teaches that anyone in heaven is a saint, but there are certain people whose lives were examples of heroic virtue or who remained faithful to God through martyrdom who are solemnly recognized as models of virtue and intercessors before God and are worthy of special honor (veneration) by Catholics. This practice of recognizing certain people as worthy of special honor began in the ancient church with honoring martyrs who had given their lives for their faith in Christ and recognizing them as intercessors for those who were left behind. A little later, this recognition spread to “confessors,” who were people who stood up for their faith and suffered persecution for it but were not martyred.

In the first five centuries of the church, people were recognized as saints by the acclamation of the people. There was no formal process, and most saints were locally recognized holy men and women. By the sixth century, requests for recognition of a person as a saint had to be examined by the local bishop, and he then proclaimed whether the person was to be so honored. Beginning in the tenth century, the local bishop still made the initial examination of the person’s life and gathered as much eyewitness testimony as possible; but the results of this examination were then passed on to the Pope, who made the final determination. In 1588 Pope Sixtus set up a new office in the Vatican, the Congregation for Sacred Rites, to help with this process of determination of new saints (among other things). The process remained basically the same, with some minor changes, until 1983 when the current process was put in place.

According to the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, there are three stages in the canonization process, with specific things that happen in each stage. The first stage is the examination of the life of a candidate for sainthood. The first phase of this stage takes place at the diocesan level. A petitioner, (which can be an organization within the diocese, a religious order, or a lay association of the faithful) asks the bishop to open an investigation into the life of the candidate. Although a five-year waiting period after the person dies is required, the Pope can dispense from this waiting period. The bishop consults with other bishops, the people of his diocese and the Holy See regarding beginning the investigation. Once he receives permission from the Holy See in Rome, the bishop sets up a tribunal to study the life of the person proposed for canonization and how they lived a life of heroic virtue, or the circumstances surrounding their martyrdom. Witnesses are called and documents by and about the person proposed are examined. If the decision is made at the local level to continue the process, the person is now called a “Servant of God.”

In the second phase of the examination, all documentation is then sent to the Congregation for the Causes of the Saints in the Vatican, where it is examined by nine theologians who vote on whether the candidate exemplified heroic virtue or suffered martyrdom. If a majority of the theologians agree, the evidence is then passed on to cardinals and bishops who are part of the Congregation. If they also agree, the prefect of the Congregation presents the entire cases to the Pope, who gives his approval and names the person “Venerable” if they have lived a virtuous life. If they were martyred, they receive the title of “Blessed” immediately.

At this point the second stage of the process, beatification, begins. For the beatification of a Venerable, there must be a verified miracle attributed to the intercession of that person after death, proven through an intensive investigation with extensive documentation. If the Congregation for the Causes of Saints concludes that a miracle has occurred, and the Pope has approved, the Venerable is given the title of “Blessed” and local public veneration is approved within the diocese or religious order where the petition for sainthood originated. No miracle is required for a martyr to be given the title of Blessed.

Once the candidate is named as Blessed, the final stage of the process begins—canonization. In this stage another miracle attributed to the intercession of the Blessed after beatification must be verified. The same process of examination and verification is followed as before. Once the miracle is verified the Pope then issues a decree of canonization and the person receives the title of “Saint.” This means the person may now be publicly venerated by the Universal Church.

(Ruth Powers is the program coordinator for St. Mary Basilica Parish in Natchez.)

Ser Celoso de la Generosidad de Dios

Por Ron Rolheiser
“El gallo cantará cuando se rompa tu propio ego, ¡hay muchas maneras de despertar!”

John Shea me dijo esas palabras y las entendí un poco mejor recientemente mientras hacía cola en un aeropuerto: me había registrado para un vuelo, me acerqué a seguridad, vi una gran fila y acepté el hecho de que tomaría al menos 40 minutos para superarlo.

Padre Ron Rolheiser, OMI

Estuve bien con la larga espera y me moví pacientemente en la fila, hasta que, justo cuando llegó mi turno, llegó otro equipo de seguridad, abrió una segunda máquina de escaneo y toda una fila de personas, detrás de mí, que no habían esperado los cuarenta minutos, obtuvieron sus turnos casi de inmediato. Todavía tuve mi turno como lo hubiera hecho antes, pero algo dentro de mí se sintió menospreciado y enojado: “¡Esto no fue justo! ¡Había estado esperando durante cuarenta minutos y les llegó su turno al mismo tiempo que a mí! Me había conformado con esperar, hasta que los que llegaron más tarde no tuvieron que esperar nada. No me habían tratado injustamente, pero algunos otros habían tenido más suerte que yo.
Esa experiencia me enseñó algo, más allá del hecho de que mi corazón no siempre es enorme y generoso. Me ayudó a entender algo sobre la parábola de Jesús sobre los trabajadores que llegaron a la hora undécima y recibieron el mismo salario que los que habían trabajado todo el día y lo que significa el desafío que se le da a los que se quejan de la injusticia de esto: “¿Tienes envidia porque soy generoso?”

¿Somos celosos porque Dios es generoso? ¿Nos molesta cuando a otros se les dan regalos y perdón inmerecidos? ¡Apuesta!

En última instancia, esa sensación de injusticia, de envidia de que alguien más haya tenido un descanso es un gran obstáculo para nuestra felicidad. ¿Por qué? Porque algo en nosotros reacciona negativamente cuando parece que la vida no está haciendo que los demás paguen lo mismo que nosotros.

En los Evangelios vemos un incidente en el que Jesús va a la sinagoga un sábado, se levanta para leer y cita un texto de Isaías, excepto que no lo cita completo sino que omite una parte. El texto (Isaías 61:1-2) habría sido bien conocido por sus oyentes y describe la visión de Isaías de lo que será la señal de que Dios finalmente ha irrumpido en el mundo y cambiado irrevocablemente las cosas. ¿Y qué será eso?
Para Isaías, la señal de que Dios ahora gobierna la tierra será la buena noticia para los pobres, el consuelo para los quebrantados de corazón, la libertad para los esclavizados, la gracia abundante para todos y la venganza para los malvados. Nótese, sin embargo, que cuando Jesús cita esto, deja fuera la parte de la venganza. A diferencia de Isaías, no dice que parte de nuestro gozo será ver castigados a los malvados. En el cielo se nos dará lo que se nos debe y más (don inmerecido, perdón que no merecemos, alegría inimaginable) pero, al parecer, no se nos dará esa catarsis que tanto deseamos aquí en la tierra, la alegría de ver a los malvados castigados.

Las alegrías del cielo no incluirán ver sufrir a Hitler. De hecho, la comezón natural que tenemos por la justicia estricta (“Ojo por ojo”) es exactamente eso, una comezón natural, algo que los Evangelios nos invitan a superar. El deseo de estricta justicia bloquea nuestra capacidad de perdón y por lo tanto nos impide entrar en el cielo donde Dios, como el Padre del Hijo Pródigo, abraza y perdona sin exigir una libra de carne por una libra de pecado.

Sabemos que necesitamos la misericordia de Dios, pero si la gracia es verdadera para nosotros, debe ser verdadera para todos; si nos es dado el perdón, debe ser dado a todos; y si Dios no venga nuestras fechorías, Dios tampoco debe vengar las fechorías de los demás. Tal es la lógica de la gracia, y tal es el amor del Dios con el que debemos sintonizarnos.

La felicidad no se trata de venganza, sino de perdón; no de reivindicación, sino de abrazo inmerecido; y no sobre la pena capital, sino sobre vivir más allá incluso del asesinato.

No es de extrañar que, en algunos de los grandes santos, veamos una teología que bordea el universalismo, es decir, la creencia de que al final Dios salvará a todos, incluso a los Hitler. Creían esto no porque no creyeran en el infierno o en la posibilidad de excluirnos para siempre de Dios, sino porque creían que el amor de Dios es tan universal, tan poderoso y tan atractivo que, en última instancia, incluso los que están en el infierno verán el error de sus caminos, tragarse su orgullo, y entregarse al amor. El triunfo final de Dios, sintieron, será cuando el mismo diablo se convierta y el infierno esté vacío.
Tal vez eso nunca suceda. Dios nos deja libres. Sin embargo, cuando yo, o cualquier otra persona, estamos molestos en un aeropuerto, en una audiencia de la junta de libertad condicional o en cualquier otro lugar donde alguien recibe algo que creemos que no merece, tenemos que aceptar que todavía nos falta mucho, de comprender y aceptar el reino de Dios.

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

Love and support catechists

Journeying Together
By Hosffman Ospino (Catholic News Service)

Catechetical programs have resumed activities or will soon start in most Catholic parishes in the United States. Children, youth, young adults and adults prepare to return to sessions where they will learn and reflect about their faith.

Just as we speak of the sacraments, particularly the Eucharist, as essential to nurture our spiritual life, catechesis is essential to nurture our love for our faith and for God’s word.

Central to the work of catechesis are the many women and men of all ages who exercise their discipleship by serving their communities as catechists. They are missionary disciples who understand the importance of passing on the faith.

Dr. Hoffsman Ospino

Although the first and most essential catechists, especially for children and youth, are the parents and other adults who live in a household, catechists expand and enhance that first catechesis by sharing their faith in small groups.

In many cases, catechists play a remedial role, mindful that many parents fall short in sharing the basics of the faith at home with the younger ones.

If you look at the catechists in your parish, you will notice that there is not necessarily a specific profile that restricts this important ministry to a narrow group. We want catechists to be witnesses of what they believe, do their best modeling their faith through their actions and share the faith with joy.

However, these expectations apply practically to all the baptized. We all are called to be catechists.
Stay-at-home moms, teachers, doctors, nurses, lawyers, farmworkers, administrators, retirees, young adults, grandparents, tour guides, hotel and factory workers, taxi drivers, academics, cooks, nuns, priests, deacons, married couples, single people, among many others, join the ranks of catechists in our parishes every year.

What do all these people have in common? We all love our faith and we all are passionate to share it with others! Nearly all of us do it as volunteers. This is what makes being part of a faith community exciting.
The Holy Spirit moves the hearts of the baptized, regardless of our background or social location, and inspires us to build the church as catechists.

While there are many Catholics who love to share our faith as catechists, the numbers are not always enough. We need many more catechists and thus we have a responsibility to encourage one another to serve our faith communities in this capacity.

At the same time, we should avoid taking our catechists for granted. Our faith communities need to cultivate a permanent culture of support for our catechists. Here are four practical ways in which we can support this important group.

Pray for our catechists. This is perhaps the easiest way of supporting them. Pray for their wisdom and wellbeing. Pray for their families. Pray for their holiness.

Second, approach a catechist in your faith community and say, “Thank you.” It does not take much effort or time. A word of gratitude is always the best way to encourage others to move forward in what they are doing.  

USCCB poster for Catechetical Sunday 2022.

Third, sponsor a catechist or your parish religious education program. Catechists are very generous with their time and expect nothing in return. Yet, we can be gratefully supportive.

Buy a book for them, bring a gift certificate, contribute to a fund to buy coffee or tea when they catechize. Make an annual or monthly donation to support their meetings and retreats.

Fourth, support the continuing education of your catechists. Catechists need constant training. Support a formation program for catechists in your parish or diocese. Some may be ready to study theology at a local seminary or university, and they need scholarships. You can help.

(Hosffman Ospino is professor of theology and religious education at Boston College.)