THINGS OLD AND NEW
By Ruth Powers

In popular Catholic piety, the month of June is traditionally devoted to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, with the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, celebrated this year on June 24. Most Catholics are familiar with the image of the Sacred Heart: a heart topped with a flame and a cross, signifying Jesus’ love and compassion for us, and circled with a crown of thorns, representing His Passion. Many Catholic homes display a picture of Jesus pointing toward his heart, shown exposed in his chest. The practice of displaying such an image arose after a series of apparitions to a 17th century French nun, St. Margaret Mary Alacoque, but the origins of devotion to the Sacred Heart are much older.

Some of the early Church Fathers used the image of the heart of Jesus to symbolize his love for us, especially in his willingness to die to save us, but it wasn’t until the 11th century that a specific devotion to the wounded heart of Jesus began to develop.

St. Bernard of Clairvaux wrote that the piercing of Christ’s side revealed his goodness and the charity of his heart for us. Practices honoring the Sacred Heart were prevalent in the Benedictine and Cistercian monasteries as private devotions, and soon began to spread to other religious orders. Franciscans had developed a special devotion to the Five Holy Wounds of Jesus, and St. Bonaventure wrote in his Mystic Vine, “Who is there who would not love this wounded heart? Who would not love in return Him, who loves so much?” The Sacred Heart also figured in the visions of several female mystics of the time.

By the 16th century, devotions to the Sacred Heart had become more formalized and special exercises and prayers were written. The Jesuits had a special devotion to the Sacred Heart and placed its image on the title pages of their books and on the walls of their churches. As lay people became more familiar with the idea of the Sacred Heart through the influence of the Jesuits, the devotion began to spread outside of the religious orders. St. Francis de Sales promoted this devotion, and his protégé St. Jane Frances de Chantal was influenced by him in her founding of the Visitation nuns. It is from this order that the best-known devotions to the Sacred Heart developed, thanks to visions of Jesus experienced by a Visitation nun, St. Margaret Mary Alacoque.

St. Margaret Mary experienced a series of visions of Jesus beginning in 1674 and ending in 1689. These visions have become the most significant source of devotion to the Sacred Heart in modern times. In these visions, Jesus called for special devotion to Him and his heart because of his great love. He requested reception of Holy Communion on the First Friday of every month for nine consecutive months, Eucharistic Adoration during a Holy Hour on Thursdays, and the celebration of a Feast of the Sacred Heart. In return, he made twelve promises to those who observed this devotion. “I will give them all the graces necessary in their state of life. I will establish peace in their homes. I will comfort them in all their afflictions. I will be their secure refuge during life, and above all, in death. I will bestow abundant blessings upon all their undertakings. Sinners will find in my Heart the source and infinite ocean of mercy.

Lukewarm souls shall become fervent. Fervent souls shall quickly mount to high perfection. I will bless every place in which an image of my Heart is exposed and honored. I will give to priests the gift of touching the most hardened hearts. Those who shall promote this devotion shall have their names written in my Heart. I promise you in the excessive mercy of my Heart that my all-powerful love will grant to all those who receive Holy Communion on the First Fridays in nine consecutive months the grace of final perseverance; they shall not die in my disgrace, nor without receiving their sacraments. My divine Heart shall be their safe refuge in this last moment.”

After initial resistance, the nine First Friday devotions, along with the establishment of the Feast and the Holy Hour, spread throughout the world, aided by promotion by the Jesuits. A formal feast day for the Sacred Heart was recognized in 1765 in France and established as a feast day to be recognized by the whole church in 1899 by Pope Leo XIII.

Devotion to the Sacred Heart has a long history in the church. It recognizes the humanity of Christ in the image of the human heart, and the depth of his love and compassion for us in his Passion. The promises tied to devotion to his Sacred Heart are very powerful, and the practice of these devotions (the novena of First Fridays, Holy Hours, placement of a picture of the Sacred Heart in the home) are beneficial to any Catholic.

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

KNEADING FAITH
By Fran Lavelle

In the last decade we have solicited the input of the young church from the Pope’s synod for youth and young adults which was detailed in Christus Vivit (Christ Alive), a USCCB national process of youth and young adult listening, and most recently the Synod on Synodality. In our diocesan efforts to produce a listening process we were keen on hearing from the young church. We heard a lot in our local and regional listening sessions for the Synod that folks are worried about losing our youth. It seems that it has been a problem that in the past few years has grown exponentially. Every year or so a new research poll comes out underscoring what we already know. Many of our youth and young people today are spiritual but not religious. They do not reject the idea of God, but do not support organized religion. This is not an exclusive problem for Catholics as other traditions are facing the same issue.

Looking at the input young people have shared with church leaders over the past decade we have more than enough input to begin to look at ways to improve how we communicate our faith to the young church. As Pope Francis is oft to say they are not the church of the future, they are the church of the now. And, as such, we must find ways to engage our youth and young adults in ways that connect faith and action. In our recent experience with the Synod on Synodality, the young church spoke and was not shy in sharing their perspective.

They asked for more opportunities for service, they feel a call to take care of the poor. They asked that church leaders (ordained and lay) be more authentic in words and actions. Specifically, they asked for leaders to stop being hypocritical. They asked for better preaching that is more relevant and address issues that matter. They asked that we stop using religion to support political views. They want the church to be better examples of faith in action and be more welcoming of others.

In 2017, the National Dialogue on Catholic Pastoral Ministry with Youth and Young Adults began a listening and reflection process focused on understanding and enhancing the church’s ministries with young people. Many national organizations were collaborators in this effort, including the National Federation for Catholic Youth Ministry (NFCYM), the Catholic Campus Ministry Association (CCMA) and the National Catholic Network de Pastoral Juvenil Hispana (LaRED).

The results of that process clearly identified what the young church needs. Included in their findings was a call for more intentional connecting the life of faith with the lived experiences of young people. Address the “authenticity gap.” Many voices expressed that the church needs to show more empathy and authentic engagement with the young. Increase the investment in accompaniment. The church must train more people in “the art of accompaniment” with youth and young adults. Expand ministry with young adults. Reimagine faith formation. There was regular encouragement to move away from a classroom model and toward more relevant learning models featuring mentorship, small groups, accompaniment, faith sharing and authentic witness. Reconsider preparation for the Sacrament of Confirmation. There was a clear call to reexamine and reconsider how the church prepares young people for Confirmation. Partner with parents and enhance family ministry. There must be increased dialogue and collaboration with families and the domestic church, including the growth of intergenerational/family ministries. And, last but not least, transform ministry leadership. It was evident from the feedback that the church needs to seriously address the formation, support, and resourcing of ministry leaders and create a culture of collaboration and unity across ministerial and ecclesial lines.

If you are an older adult, you might be thinking that no one ever asked you what you needed from the church and you turned out just fine. If that is where you are, I understand and appreciate you. I imagine if you think back to your own Confirmation and ask yourself how many of your high school or college friends are still Catholic, you can easily see the need to adjust how we convey faith to the young church. Be assured, we are not reinventing doctrine or dogma to suit present day culture. The rich beauty of the church and that of the Catholic faith are to be preserved and treasured. What we are looking for are ways to animate our faith in order to keep the young church on fire with the love of God.

The reality is that we cannot unknow or unhear the voices of the young church. We cannot afford to be idle with our “we have always done it like…” mindset. The future of the church will be determined by our ability to dare to reimagine how we communicate our faith. I believe we can find a way.

On Ordinary Times
By Lucia A. Silecchia
As a teacher, I have mixed feelings about graduations. While commencements launch new beginnings for graduates, they are also bittersweet farewells.

Each year, the basic formula of our graduation ceremonies remains the same. The setting, order of events and cherished traditions remain remarkably unchanged, reflecting the enduring desire to mark important passages with predictable rituals. In spite of their comforting sameness, however, each graduation ceremony heralds a significant change in my own life, not just in the lives of my students.

Each year, I see my students’ joy and am happy for them. However, as a teacher left behind there is a certain sadness knowing that each year’s graduating class – as individuals and as a group – will no longer be part of my everyday life. Certainly, commencement day is about my students and not me. Yet, the day when this celebration no longer tugs at my heart may be the day I should start another path of work.

The years I spend with my students are brief – only 3 or 4 years do we walk together. For that time, I am privileged to be part of their lives and to have them as part of mine. I am deeply grateful to my students for all they share with me during the time we travel together along the path of life. The class of 2022, in a particular way, crossed my path in a unique set of pandemic-provoked disruptions. Thus, in a special way, I am grateful for their good will through some challenging days.

I am grateful for all the ways they shared their joys with me. Some of them knew great joy in the years we spent together as they welcomed children, became aunts or uncles, achieved academic success, or wore new rings on their fingers. Some overcame great obstacles, were surprised at wonderful job offers, and learned that they had talents they did not know that they had. Some made life-long friends and I have celebrated at the weddings of those who sat together in my class.

I am grateful for all the ways they also shared their sorrows with me. Some of them had loved ones who started the journey with them but are no longer at their sides to share the joy of graduation. Some had struggles with finances or health, watched plans disrupted and mourned dreams denied. Like life itself, the journey through school has its highs and lows.

I am grateful for all the ways they shared their families with me. Those who teach young children rather than adults see far more of their students’ families than I do. Yet, my students tell me of their loved ones – their parents, children, spouses and siblings. Many tell me much about beloved grandparents because, often, it is in the years of young adulthood that their grandparents pass away.

In particularly entertaining ways, my students share their families with me at graduation. I still feel a vague dread when someone’s proud dad says, “I’ve heard all about you!” because that is not necessarily a good thing. I sense that my students feel similar dread when a proud mom says, “How did he do in your class?” Fear not, students! I have a well-practiced repertoire of non-responsive answers to that question.

I am grateful for the ways my students thank their loved ones, my colleagues and their classmates as we share our pride and common joy with them. As they receive their diplomas while wearing the strangest of hats and smiling the biggest of smiles at their cheering families, they remind me that few accomplishments are achieved alone.

I am grateful for the ways in which many students have shared their faith with me. Although much is said by many – myself included – criticizing Gen Z’s and Millennials, I have been inspired by them. In an age of shallow soundbites, some have asked me the big questions. In an age of secularism, some have prayed with me. In a time when faith is thought to be private, some have prayed for me. In a time when the world can seem thoughtless, they reach out with commitments to service, good-hearted kindnesses and traces of that idealism a cynical world so desperately needs.

My students – soon to be my former students – were once strangers to me and to each other. Through many different paths, they and I came together for a time and shared a unique season of our lives. As May and June unfold, teachers like me will be saying our good-byes.

“Good-bye,” however, is a comforting word of farewell – an ancient abbreviation of the phrase, “God go with you.” So, to all those whose diplomas say “2022,” I pray that God does, indeed, go with you as you embark into our fragile world. Bring that world your courage, your hope and your love. And, if you think of it, say a prayer for me – I’ll miss you. Thanks for sharing with me some of your ordinary times.

Congratulations! May God go with you, Class of 2022.

(Lucia A. Silecchia is a Professor of Law at the Columbus School of Law at the Catholic University of America.)

AMID THE FRAY
By Greg Erlandson (CNS)
The leaked draft Supreme Court document that laid out the case for overturning Roe v. Wade making abortion a constitutional right has provoked an uproar.

Abortion advocates are furious that the forthcoming ruling may toss abortion back to the legislatures. Abortion opponents are working furiously to have laws in place at the state level to ban abortions. In either case, the struggle won’t be ending. It will be punted to nearly level of government for the foreseeable future.

As we wait for the high court’s final decision in June, we might do well to listen to Getty Israel, the founder and CEO of Sisters in Birth, located in Mississippi.

Sisters in Birth exists to help poor and underserved women in the poorest state in the union to give birth to healthy babies and to help mothers find the care they need. In a recent interview, Israel sounded fed up with the swirling national debate.

When interviewed on National Public Radio’s “Morning Edition,” Israel did not take the standard NPR line on abortion. She sounded ticked off at everybody.

“When we get calls from women – and we do – who are looking for an abortion, the first question I ask is, ‘What’s going on?’”
“Because, yes, I want to change her mind. Yes, I want to reduce the abortion rate. That’s a lot of Black lives lost in an era of Black Lives Matter,” she said.

“Pro-choice people are willing to wage a war … to protect (Roe v. Wade). But they’re not willing to help create any community-based interventions to address the various underlying risk factors that will lead a woman to look for an abortion,” Israel charged.

What’s missing from the national debate, she added, are the voices of women who are considering abortion. “No one ever says, What do you need? What can we do to help improve your life so that you don’t find that you need to have an abortion?”

“When a woman is seeking abortion, 9 times out of 10, she is alone,” she continued. “Pro-choice people aren’t walking down the path with her, and neither are the pro-life people, beyond beating her over the head with a Bible and Scripture.”

Almost 38% of Mississippians are Black, the highest in the nation. Yet they account for 68% of abortions. Women looking for abortion often work minimum-wage jobs without health insurance. They are beset by poverty and a torn social net.

Mississippi also has the highest rate of infant deaths in the first 12 months of life. Sixty percent of those babies are Black, many of whom were born premature. Yet state medical care for pregnant women and for new mothers in poverty is minimal and underfunded.

Banning abortion will not make Mississippi a pro-life state.

The racist murder of Black shoppers in Buffalo, New York, has transfixed the nation, but Getty Israel is right: Hundreds of thousands of Black babies are being aborted or dying in their first year of life for lack of adequate health care and support.

Nationwide there are bold pro-life efforts like the Women’s Care Centers that help expectant mothers, but so much more is needed. Passage of a new child tax credit program is one place to start.

Catholic bishops are calling for all Catholic institutions to step up and support moms in need. In the words of the New York bishops, if “every Catholic parish, every Catholic Charities program, every Catholic health facility, every Catholic school, every Catholic college and university” were asking women how they could help, the impact could be culture changing. The challenge is, how do we make this more than just a slogan?

(Erlandson, director and editor-in-chief of Catholic News Service, can be reached at gerlandson@catholicnews.com.)

IN EXILE
By Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI
A friend of mine, somewhat cynical about the church, recently remarked: “What the institutional church today is trying to do is to put its best face on the fact that it’s dying. Basically, it’s trying to manage a death.”

What he’s suggesting is that the church today, like a person struggling to accept a terminal diagnosis, is trying to reshape its imagination to eventually accommodate itself to the unthinkable, its own dying.

He’s right in suggesting that the church today is trying to reshape its imagination, but he’s wrong about what it’s trying to manage. What the church is trying to manage today is not a death, but an ascension. What needs reshaping in our imagination today is the same thing that needed reshaping in the imagination of the first disciples in the forty days between the resurrection and the ascension. We need to understand again how to let go of one body of Christ so that it can ascend and we can again experience Pentecost. What’s at stake here?

Among the elements within the paschal mystery, the ascension is the least understood. We are clearer about the meaning of the death and resurrection of Christ and the descent of the Spirit at Pentecost. We have less understanding of the ascension.

The forty days between the resurrection and the ascension were not a time of unadulterated joy for the first disciples. It was a time of some joy, but also of considerable confusion, despondency and loss of faith. In the days before the ascension, the disciples were overjoyed whenever they recognized again their risen Lord, but most of the time they were confused, despondent, and full of doubt because they were unable to recognize the new presence of Christ in what was happening around them. At one point, they gave up completely and as John put it, went back to their former way of life, fishing and the sea.

However, during that time Jesus slowly reshaped their imaginations. Eventually they grasped the fact that something had died but that something else, far richer, had been born and that now they needed to give up clinging to the way Jesus had formerly been present to them so that he could be present to them in a new way. The theology and spirituality of the ascension is essentially contained in these words: Refuse to cling to what once was, let it go so that you can now recognize the new life you are already living and receive its spirit. The synoptic gospels teach this to us in their pictorial rendering of the ascension, where a bodily Jesus blesses everyone and then rises physically out of their sight. John gives us the same theology but in a different picture. He does this in his description of the encounter on Easter morning between Jesus and Mary Magdala when Jesus says, “Mary don’t cling to me!”

Today, the church is trying to manage an ascension, not a death. I can easily see where my friend can be confused because every ascension presupposes a death and a birth, and that can be confusing. So where, really, is the church today?

Edward Schillebeeckx once suggested that we are living in that same despondency that was felt by the early disciples between Jesus’ death and their realization of his resurrection. We are feeling what they felt, doubt and confusion on the road to Emmaus. The Christ we once knew has been crucified and we cannot yet recognize the Christ who is walking with us, more alive than before, though in a new way. Hence, just as those first disciples on the road to Emmaus, we also frequently walk with faces downcast, in a confused faith, needing Christ to appear in a new guise to reshape our imaginations so that we can recognize him as he is now present to us.

I think Schillebeeckx is right about this, except that I would put it in another way. The church today is in that time between the resurrection and the ascension, feeling considerable despondency, with its imagination attuned to a former understanding of Christ, unable to recognize Christ clearly in the present moment. For many of us who grew up in a particular understanding of the faith, our former understanding of Christ has been crucified. But Christ is not dead. The church is not dead. Both Jesus and the church are very much alive, walking with us, slowly reshaping our imaginations, reinterpreting the scriptures for us, telling us again: Wasn’t it necessary that the Christ (and the church) should so suffer. …
For many of us today, to live in faith is to be in that time between the death of Christ and the ascension, vacillating between joy and despondency, trying to manage an ascension.

On the road of faith, there’s always bad news and good news. The bad news is that invariably our understanding of Christ gets crucified. The good news is that Christ is always very much alive, present to us still, and in a deeper way.

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