REFLECTIONS ON LIFE
By Melvin Arrington
Utter darkness! The total, absolute void of space! When my wife and I toured a cave many years ago, that’s what we sensed when the tour guide led our little group into a well-lit cavern and then flipped the switch. It instantly became infinitely darker than the dim, shadowy murkiness created by any late evening power outage. This was unmitigated blackness. I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face; I couldn’t see anything at all! The guide was only trying to demonstrate what the complete absence of light was like but in so doing he was, in effect, re-creating the conditions of the primordial nothingness immediately prior to the moment of Creation. When he turned the switch back on, the cavern instantly became bright and luminous again. It was like coming back to life from the dead.

The stark contrast between light and darkness in the cave also suggests some other opposing pairs: good and evil; warmth and cold; intelligence and ignorance; wisdom and folly; the conscious and the unconscious; spirit and matter; positives and negatives. Also, life vs. death; that’s the one that should really grab our attention. Jesus, the Light of the World, calls us and draws us to Himself and to eternal life. We are free to accept or reject Him. Those who choose the latter option evidently prefer to be as far from the source of illumination as possible, so they will get their wish and find themselves in outer darkness. The following words spoken by Jesus underscore one of the saddest realities in Scripture: “the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil” (John 3:19).
During the last few weeks we have experienced encroaching darkness as the winter solstice, the shortest day and longest night of the year, draws near. On that darkest of days, it will appear that the shadowy forces have won. But something marvelous happens around the time we celebrate the birth of Christ. By Christmas day luminosity begins to come back into the world. The days become longer and the night recedes. The old saying “it’s always darkest before the dawn” turns out to be true.
So, how do we respond to the advent of the new light? By putting up bright, shiny Christmas decorations, of course. Actually, many begin the Christmas season several weeks early. Some of those dazzling outdoor displays pop up the day after Thanksgiving. Perhaps our love for lights and our efforts to illuminate the night sky represent a deep-seated desire to drive away the darkness and negativity that pervade so many aspects of everyday life.
Children and adults alike have a special fascination with the brightness and radiance that characterize Christmas. We love the vivid colors of ornaments and trimmings, the glittery tinsel, and the sparkling bulbs along the winding cord. And let’s not forget the shining fixture atop the tree, reminding us of the wondrous star that guided the Magi to Bethlehem and the stable where the Christ Child was born.
Forty days after the Nativity, Mary and Joseph presented the infant Jesus in the Temple, where Simeon recognized Him as the long-awaited Savior, the One who would offer the light of salvation to the whole world. Taking the baby in his arms, Simeon spoke the words of the Nunc Dimittis, the canticle recited as part of the Night Prayer of the Church: “Now, Lord, you may dismiss your servant in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all the peoples, a light of revelation to the Gentiles and glory for your people Israel” (Luke 2:29-32). On Feb. 2 the church commemorates this event with the feast of Candlemas.
Candles have important functions in the church. Some have a prominent place on the altar while others, votive candles, can be found off to the side. There is also the large Paschal candle that glows with the new fire of Easter, and the one in the Sanctuary Lamp, signifying the presence of the Blessed Sacrament in the Tabernacle. Each of them in some way points to a link between life and light.
The secularists/materialists like to compare human life to a lighted candle. In their view, when the flame goes out, life ends and there’s nothing more. But Venerable Fulton J. Sheen says they forgot to tell us that “even when the candle has burned out, the light continues to emit itself at the rate of 186,000 miles a second, beyond the moon and stars, beyond the Pleiades, the nebulas of Andromeda, and continues to do so as long as the universe endures.” As St. Francis of Assisi reminds us, “all the darkness in the world cannot extinguish the light of a single candle.” The secularist/materialist viewpoint is in error; the soul of a person of faith, just like that candle light, lives on after death and returns to its Source.
As Christians we should be beacons of hope, pointing the way to everlasting truth, goodness, and beauty: “Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:16). Also, we are supposed to “live as children of light, for light produces every kind of goodness and righteousness and truth” (Ephesians 5:8-9). It also produces beauty, as in these words from the popular Advent hymn, “O Come Divine Messiah”: “Dear Savior, haste!/Come, come to earth./Dispel the night and show your face,/and bid us hail the dawn of grace.”
Every time we feed the hungry, visit the sick, welcome the stranger, or contribute to worthy causes, we are doing our part to dispel the darkness. In this great time of celebration let us carry the light with us wherever we go and try to bring some sunshine into the lives of all we meet, especially those who struggle during the holidays.
May the Light of the World fill you with joy, love, hope, and peace during this Christmas season and all throughout the coming year!

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

REFLECTIONS ON LIFE
By Melvin Arrington

Our world today seems overpopulated with fictional superheroes of all sorts. Humans, animals, aliens, robots – even something that looks like a monster may, in fact, be a superhero. They appear not only in comics, but also on TV shows, and on the big screen. The various media are saturated with them. What is it about these strange characters that has so captured the public imagination?

When I was a kid growing up in the 1950s, only one superhero captured my imagination, and that was Superman. In addition to being a devoted reader of comic books about the Man of Steel, I was also a huge fan of the popular TV show “The Adventures of Superman,” starring George Reeves. Whenever that program came on, you could always find me glued to the TV set. I was simply enchanted with that “strange visitor from another planet with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men.”

Like many boys my age, I wanted to be like Superman; actually, to be honest, I wanted to be Superman because he could do all kinds of amazing things: he was “faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.” He could also “change the course of mighty rivers” and “bend steel in his bare hands.” But most importantly, he could fly!

I have many wonderful childhood memories of playing with friends on swings. We would all try to see how high we could go. At the highest point I would bail out and, at least for a moment, fly through the air like my hero. Somehow I survived all those “flights” without any broken bones.

Back in those days the City of Jackson also afforded me an opportunity to pretend that I could fly. Do they still send trucks into neighborhoods to spray for mosquitoes? In the 1950s, it was a regular summertime occurrence. Some would ride their bicycles behind the truck, but whenever I saw it coming down our street, I would go get a towel (my makeshift cape), tie it around my neck, dash outside, and run through all that fog with my arms extended in front of me, like I was Superman flying through the clouds. Cumulatively, over several summers, I must have breathed in a truckload of that toxic spray (it was DDT back then). It’s surely a miracle that I made it to adulthood!

So why all this fascination with flying like Superman? Perhaps it’s because that famous superhero fulfills a desire in all of us for the supernatural, a longing to reach for something beyond our grasp. We yearn to escape our earthly limitations and soar upward to God, to the Source of our being. Whether we acknowledge it or not, we all have a hunger for the spiritual, for the infinite, for God; that’s the way the Creator made us. As St. Augustine said, “Our hearts were made for Thee, O Lord, and they are restless until they rest in Thee.” It’s not difficult to see how Superman can serve as a remedy for some of this restlessness. He can satisfy these cravings because he’s a kind of messianic figure, a Christ-like figure.

Superman was created by two 18-year-old Jewish boys in Cleveland, Ohio, in the late 1930s. During that decade Hitler would come to power, establish the Third Reich, and attempt to exterminate the Jews from the face of the earth. At the same time, our country (and the rest of the world) found itself mired in the depths of the Great Depression. The Jews needed a messiah, a savior, to rescue them from annihilation, and Americans needed a heroic figure, if only a fictional one, to lift our spirits. Superman satisfied both needs.

Let’s take a closer look at some of the parallels between Jesus and Superman. We know that the divine Son of God, is omnipotent; there are no limits to what He can do. We also know that the Man of Steel is a “strange visitor from another planet who came to Earth with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men.” Also, Jesus has a human nature and a divine nature, while Superman likewise has two identities: he is Clark Kent, “mild-mannered reporter for a great metropolitan newspaper,” as well as a superhero.

Jor-El is Superman’s father (“El” in Hebrew means “God”). Superman’s real name is Kal-El, and since he is Jor-El’s son, he serves as a type of the Son of God, Jesus, who is also God, the Second Person of the Holy Trinity. Moments before the planet Krypton is destroyed, Jor-El places his only son, baby Kal-El, in a small capsule and sends it out into space headed for the planet Earth. The space ship crashes in farmland in the state of Kansas. Jonathan Kent and his wife, Martha, discover the strange little boy in the wreckage, become his adoptive parents, name him Clark, and raise him in the American heartland.

In the 1978 film “Superman,” Clark is tempted to show off in front of a few kids from his high school by demonstrating some of the marvelous things he can do, but Mr. Kent advises caution, explaining to Clark that there’s a reason he has amazing powers. Clark eventually rises above these temptations, and when he becomes an adult, he leaves the farm, discovers why he was sent to Earth, and goes off to the crime-ridden city of Metropolis to fulfill his purpose: to save people everywhere from the forces of evil.

Similarly, God the Father sent His only Son, Jesus, from heaven to earth to be our redeemer. Our Lord grew up with Mary and his foster father, Joseph, in the backwater town of Nazareth.When it was time to begin His ministry, Jesus left home and went into the wilderness to fast and pray. There, Satan came and offered Him three temptations, but Our Lord refused each one because He had to accomplish the purpose for which He was sent. In Jerusalem, after overcoming another great temptation in the Garden of Gethsemane, He went to Calvary and carried out His mission: to save us from our sins by dying on the Cross, and to defeat death by rising again on the third day.

We, too, should be on a mission. But what is our task? The 4th-century theologian St. Athanasius of Alexandria said, “the Son of God became man so that we might become God.” At first glance that sounds impossible, even though we know that we came from God, and one day we hope to return to Him. Perhaps our mission has something to do with Superman. If children can pretend to be the Man of Steel, why can’t we as adults try to be more like the Son of God?

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

Reflections on Life
By Melvin Arrington
Among the countless fictional detectives on TV and in the movies, one stands out above all the others for his rock-solid faith, his vast knowledge of the inner workings of the criminal mind, and his unyielding efforts to catch lost souls and lead them back into the fold. This detective also happens to be a priest. Of course I’m referring to Father Brown, created by Catholic convert G. K. Chesterton (1874-1936) who, oddly enough, had not yet converted when Father Brown made his first appearance in a 1910 short story, “The Blue Cross.”

Chesterton based his immortal amateur sleuth on Father John O’Connor, a parish priest who would come to play a major role in his conversion to the Catholic faith. From conversations with Father O’Connor, Chesterton devised the notion of “constructing a comedy in which a priest should appear to know nothing and in fact know more about crime than the criminals.” This basic irony, which persists throughout the stories, has a startling explanation: Father Brown has intricate knowledge of criminal behavior because he has heard all the sordid details in the confessional.

Chesterton wrote more than fifty short stories scattered across five volumes about his famous crime-solving clergyman. In the first collection, “The Innocence of Father Brown” (1911), he describes his most celebrated creation as “a very short Roman Catholic priest [with] a face as round and dull as a Norfolk dumpling [and] eyes as empty as the North Sea.” He also makes reference to “his quaint blending of Essex flatness with saintly simplicity” and the “large, shabby umbrella” he carries. With this minimal description Chesterton leaves it to his readers’ imagination to fill in the details of what this man of the cloth looks like.

As a result of the lack of more specific information about the character’s appearance, the manner in which he has been portrayed has varied considerably. To date, at least ten actors have interpreted Chesterton’s mystery-solving cleric on the large and small screens. The first was an American, Walter Connolly, who starred in “Father Brown, Detective,” a movie released in 1934, during Chesterton’s lifetime.

One of the most notable performances was given by Kenneth More, who took on the role for a 1974 British TV series lasting thirteen episodes, each of which bears the title of a Chesterton story and is, generally speaking, faithful to the source material. Also worth noting is a 1979 film, “Sanctuary of Fear,” a typical made-for-TV movie of that period. Set in New York City, far removed from the fictional universe of the original stories, it stars Barnard Hughes, who gives a competent performance but, unfortunately, he bears little or no resemblance to the way Father Brown’s creator imagined him. The performer who currently plays the part, the likeable English actor Mark Williams, has starred in the long-running British TV series about the priest/detective since 2013. It’s paradoxical that Williams has been so successful because he is a large man, over six feet tall, playing a character who is, by all accounts, “very short.”

All the versions mentioned so far, except the 1934 film, are in color. A black-and-white production, however, seems more appropriate for creating the atmosphere of the shady world of crime. Although I wouldn’t brand these movies and TV episodes as film noir, it seems logical that the dramatization of detective stories, normally associated with the realm of shadows and the interplay of light and darkness, would achieve greater stylistic effect in black-and-white.

With these technical aspects in mind, let’s move on to the screen version that captures the essence of Chesterton’s creation better than any of the other adaptations: the 1954 black-and-white film “The Detective,” starring the distinguished English actor Alec Guinness as Father Brown. Guinness, by the way, would go on to receive a Best Actor Academy Award three years later for “The Bridge on the River Kwai” and gain lasting fame for his portrayal of Obi-Wan Kenobi in the “Star Wars” cinematic franchise.

Although of average height and thus much taller than Chesterton’s extremely short priest, Guinness fits the part perfectly because on screen he strikes the viewer as a small and insignificant figure, just the type to blend into the background and be overlooked and underestimated by lawman and lawbreaker alike. Guinness takes upon himself Father Brown’s humor, charm and eccentricities to such a degree that I can’t imagine anyone else improving on his performance. The strong supporting cast includes Peter Finch as the infamous international art thief, Flambeau, and Bernard Lee as Inspector Valentine, the police detective who obstinately chases after Father Brown while the latter stays hot on the trail of Flambeau.

“The Detective,” very loosely based on “The Blue Cross,” opens with a police car racing to the scene of a crime. There, we see a man hiding in the darkness. As soon as the police enter the building, this shadowy figure manages to make his exit undetected. What the officers discover is truly shocking: a priest in front of an open safe with stacks of money in his hands. But rather than taking the money out of the safe, he was actually putting it back in. We quickly learn that when the priest had first become aware of the theft, he had convinced the real burglar to let him return the money to the safe. Later, he sets up the would-be robber in an honest job as a chauffeur to one of his parishioners. This captures the essence of Father Brown: he will go to any extreme to win over the sinner and turn him away from a life of crime.

Father Brown’s primary concern in “The Detective” involves the capture of Flambeau, but, oddly enough, he has no desire to put the thief behind bars; his only concern is for the state of his quarry’s soul. Like the “Hound of Heaven” going after His prey, the little priest is relentless in his pursuit of the famous criminal. He never gives up because, as Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen says, “unless souls are saved, nothing is saved.”

Little children also have a part to play in this drama of salvation. Although on camera only briefly, their appearance speaks volumes, especially if one calls to mind the prophecy that “a little child shall lead them” (Isaiah 11:6) and the words of Jesus: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:3) In order not to give away the climactic scene, I’ll not say anything else on this subject.

As a postscript, it’s worth noting that while the film crew was shooting on location in France a dramatic episode occurred involving Guinness and a little child. This scene was definitely not in the script. During a break in filming, Guinness, rather than changing clothes, decided to remain in clerical attire. A little boy spotted him, grabbed him by the hand, and called out “Father, Father” in French. Although Guinness’ French was inadequate to carry on a conversation, the actor was, nevertheless, deeply moved that the child, a total stranger, felt a close attachment to him simply because the boy thought he was actually a priest.

Not long after this incident, Guinness converted to Catholicism. Father Brown’s tenacity paid off. He caught another one.

You can catch “The Detective” now streaming for free on Tubi.

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

Reflections on Life
By Melvin Arrington

When the subject of prayer comes up, many people immediately think of petition, that is, asking God for a favor. But petition constitutes only one type of what the church calls “raising of one’s mind and heart to God” (CCC 2559); other categories include penitence, praise, thanksgiving, intercession, and silence in the form of meditation and contemplation. The Mass, which is often referred to as “the great prayer of the church,” contains all of these. It is, in essence, one long sustained prayer.

Bishop Robert Barron calls prayer “intimate communion and conversation with God.” I like that definition because it highlights the element of intimacy, which suggests both closeness and privacy. Here’s a story that may or may not be true. In a certain Baptist Church there used to be an old gentleman, a deacon, who was often called upon to pray during the service. But he always prayed so softly that it was difficult for other members of the congregation to hear him. Once, after the service, a young man went up to the deacon and told him, “You need to speak louder when you pray. I couldn’t hear you.” The old gentleman looked at him and said in a gentle voice, “I wasn’t talking to you.” That deacon must have had an intimate personal relationship with the Lord.

Another indispensable aspect of prayer is an attitude of humility. When we address our Creator and Lord, it’s always from a position of dependence. He is God and we are his creation, his creatures. He knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows what’s best for us. So, we should pray, “Thy will be done.” And yet, there are things that we want, and God, the source of all goodness, wants to give us good things, but He wants us to ask for them.

The fourth-century monk Evagrius Ponticus said, “Do not be troubled if you do not immediately receive from God what you ask Him, for He desires to do something even greater for you while you cling to Him in prayer.” Those words are particularly meaningful to me because of something that happened many years ago during my job- hunting days. A certain job that I wanted and needed badly came open. Upon learning that the position was given to someone else, my spirit sank very low, and I felt like abandoning my job search. However, two or three days later an offer came in for a much better position, one that I could not have accepted had the first one worked out. As a friend of mine once said, “His will is much better than my plan.” Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen really knew what he was talking about when he remarked, “Some day we will thank God not only for what He gave us, but also for that which He refused.” Amen!

And then there’s perseverance. Several years ago, in preparation for retirement, I began asking the Lord to reveal to me a place where I could serve after retiring. This was an ongoing part of my daily prayer for two or three years. In the meantime, I had convinced my mother, who had been living in a nursing home in Madison, to move to a similar facility in my hometown, so I could check on her more frequently. My first few visits were painful because I’ve always felt nervous and uneasy around hospitals, clinics and nursing homes.

And then something marvelous happened. The more I visited the facility the more comfortable I felt being around the sick. Gradually, I began to make friends with many of the nursing home residents. Before long, I was helping them get around the building in their wheelchairs and participate in various group activities. I had become a volunteer! God had answered my prayer, but in a totally unexpected way because a nursing home was way outside of my comfort zone, and it would have been the last location I would have chosen. Nevertheless, He chose that place for me, and now I see the wisdom of His plan. The Lord works in mysterious ways.

The old saying, “prayer changes things,” remains true. But it doesn’t change God; it changes us. We learn to call on Him for help rather than relying solely on ourselves. We learn to shift the worries and cares of this world from ourselves to our Heavenly Father. Instead of agonizing over things we can’t control, we take them to the Lord, confident that He will answer them in His own time and according to His perfect will. As Jesus tells us, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” (Matt. 11:28-30)

What a wonderful gift prayer is! What an amazing privilege we have! Almighty God, our Maker, is calling us to intimate communion with Him. Just the very thought of what this means is awe-inspiring! Why would anyone who hears Him reject the call? Right now, during Lent, we are all being invited to enter into that relationship. We need to make time for prayer. This is not the kind of gift to be put up on the shelf and forgotten. The church has a wealth of prayers to draw upon. The saints are ready to pray for us and with us. And God is waiting for us to have a conversation with Him.

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

Reflections on Life
By Melvin Arrington
Pope Francis has recognized 2025 as a Holy Year, a Jubilee Year of Hope. In 2025 we, as “pilgrims of hope,” are called to renew ourselves, to transform ourselves into all that God wants us to be.

As Christians we have reasons to be hopeful. First and foremost, we are made in the image of God, and He has chosen us to be His adopted children. He has given us meaning and purpose for our lives. And He has promised that we will spend all eternity in heaven if we remain faithful to Him.

According to the Catechism, hope, like faith and charity, the other two theological virtues, is “infused by God into the souls of the faithful to make them capable of acting as His children and of meriting eternal life.” (CCC 1813) “Infused,” as my handy little Catholic Dictionary states, means that God, through His grace, imparts hope to the soul; it’s not something we can acquire through our own efforts other than our willingness to receive it.

Because this connection between grace and hope in the life of Christians has interesting parallels with the growth process in plants, I’m going to examine some of these correspondences. Joseph Campbell, considered the leading authority on mythology, argues that a type of consciousness operates not just in humans but in all forms of life, including plants. For him, the vine that wraps itself around a tree and the leaf that opens and turns toward the sun, an activity we call heliotropism, illustrate the existence of a plant consciousness.

Although Campbell makes a compelling argument, I prefer a different approach to this subject. Weeks ago, a winter storm brought a record snowfall and near single-digit temperatures to our part of the state. As I was out walking, I noticed near the sidewalk a row of tiny green shoots powerfully pushing upward, just beginning to break through the rock-hard surface of the ground. How could this be, given the frozen ground? But there they were! Although revealing less than a centimeter of their tips, they were bursting forth with determination and confidence.

God has put in place all the elements plant life requires to flourish. Nurtured by these graces – sunshine, rain and nutrients in the ground – the little shoots will continue their journey upward and will fulfill their purpose by turning into full-grown plants. And before long the color green, which stands for life, growth and, ultimately, hope, will be all around us again!

Interestingly, the way vegetation emerges has a direct application to Christian life and serves as a metaphor for the Catholic view of hope. Like the green shoots, we are on an upward journey. We, too, are confident of renewal and advancement in the faith, nourished by God’s grace. We, too, have the goal of blossoming and becoming what we were intended to be: mature, Christ-like servants. And because green also signifies Ordinary Time, the long period of maturation in the spiritual life, we’ll see it more than any other color during the liturgical year as a constant reminder of what we’re striving for.

The Catechism defines hope as “the theological virtue by which we desire the kingdom of heaven and eternal life as our happiness, placing our trust in Christ’s promises and relying not on our own strength, but on the help of the grace of the Holy Spirit.” (CCC 1817) In other words, it’s much more than just the desire or wish for something; for example, that there will be something good to watch on TV, or that my team will make the playoffs, or that my utility bills will be lower, etc. These wishes may or may not come to pass. The Catholic understanding of this virtue, however, deals with eternal things; it goes well beyond mere desire to include “the confident expectation of divine blessing.” (CCC 2090)

Hope encompasses a firm belief that God will keep His promises to us, so we have to make sure that we honor our commitment to Him and not presume on His mercy: “Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful.” (Hebrews 10:23)

What kinds of things should we as pilgrims of hope do during this Jubilee Year? I heartily recommend consulting the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) website, which contains a wealth of information for the Holy Year. But if a pilgrimage is not feasible, several other opportunities for personal renewal are readily available. Maybe this is the year for taking a deep dive into God’s Word, or for making more frequent visits to the Blessed Sacrament, or for committing to praying a nightly rosary. Whatever we pledge to do, let’s not forget to give thanks for the amazing gift of hope, which “does not disappoint us because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” (Romans 5:5)

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

REFLECTIONS ON LIFE
By Melvin Arrington
Have you ever noticed on social media the use of the phrase “I love you more?” Although this seems to be a fairly recent phenomenon, its usage is becoming more and more prevalent in written communication. For example, a daughter writes to her mother, “I love you,” and the mother, instead of responding, “I love you, too,” says, “I love you more.” Does this mean “more than you love me?” Or maybe “more than you’ll ever know?” Or perhaps “more than anyone else could ever love you?” On the surface it looks rather silly, almost like a game. But true love is not a game. It’s what our lives should be about.

I have two daughters, both of whom I cherish. The intensity of my affection is the same for each of them. There is no quantifiable difference in how much I care for each one. The only distinction I can make is one of duration rather than intensity; that is, I have loved the older one longer but not any more than the younger one.

God, on the other hand, has loved all of us the same length of time, despite differences in our ages, because He has known each of us from all eternity: “He chose us in Him, before the foundation of the world, to be holy and without blemish before Him. In love He destined us for adoption to Himself through Jesus Christ.” (Ephesians 1:4-5a) Psalm 139 expresses this even more vividly in the beautiful image of God as the First Knitter: “You formed my inmost being; You knit me in my mother’s womb. I praise You, because I am wonderfully made; wonderful are Your works! My very self You know.” (vv. 13-14) In short, God loves each of us more than we love Him and more than we will ever know, and more than anyone else could ever love us.

Throughout Scripture God is seeking to bring us back into the deep, personal, committed love relationship He intended for us to have with Him from the beginning, a relationship that has been damaged, and in some cases, broken because of our willful disobedience. In Genesis chapter 3, Adam sins and then tries to hide, but God goes looking for him and calls out to him. One of Christ’s seven sayings on the Cross, “I thirst,” (John 19:28) means, in addition to physical thirst, His thirst for souls. He longs for us, even when we turn our backs on Him. In Revelation, we see the Lord continuing to pursue us: “I stand at the door and knock.” (3:20) All we have to do is open the door and invite Him into our hearts and our lives.

We are like the little sheep that wandered off and was lost in Luke chapter 15. Jesus told this parable to make a point, but He also meant it in the sense that He would really and truly leave the ninety-nine and go in search of the one that was lost because every soul is precious to Him.

True love is self-sacrificing, and no one has sacrificed more on our behalf than Our Lord: “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15:13) Look how much Jesus loves us. When He went to the cross for us, to pay to sin debt that we couldn’t pay, He surrendered everything He had: His clothes – “They divided His garments by casting lots” (Matt. 27:35); His mother – “Behold, your mother” (John 19:27); His life – “It is finished” (John 19:30); His very spirit – “Father, into Your hands I commend My spirit.” (Luke 23:46) All of this, not to mention that He gave up the glory of the heavenly kingdom to become one of us, born in a filthy stable because there was no room for Him in the inn: “And the Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us.” (John 14:1a)

That’s what He did for us. That’s how much He loved us, and yet we complain about having to abstain from meat for a few days during Lent! Heaven help us! Along the same lines, St. John of the Cross once said: “Whenever anything disagreeable or displeasing happens to you, remember Christ crucified and be silent.” I’m ashamed to admit how often I have to remind myself of that saying.

How can we let Jesus know that we really love Him during the Christmas season? Obviously, we can do it by giving generously to worthy charitable causes and by performing the corporal works of mercy. Also, we can be more patient with others, practice kindness, and let others see all of the other fruits of the Spirit in our lives. But what else can we do? Two specific things come to mind: spend more time in prayer and make frequent visits to our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament. He is waiting there for us.

So, when we tell the Lord we love Him and try to prove it by the way we treat others and by how much time we spend with Him in prayer, Scripture reading, and adoration, His reply might very well be, “I love you more,” because He truly does. Merry Christmas!

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

Reflections on Life
By Melvin Arrington
Why is the life of a saint who died more than 1,600 years ago relevant to us today? In other words, why does St. Martin of Tours (315 to 397) still matter? The short answer is because his was a life well lived. There is much we can learn from him about respecting the dignity of each person and about practicing the church’s preferential option for the poor.

Born into a pagan family in present-day Hungary and raised in what is now Italy, Martin enrolled as a catechumen at a tender age. His father, an officer in the Imperial Roman army, wanted his son to pursue a military career, but Martin had no interest in becoming a soldier. Nevertheless, he was conscripted into the army. At age eighteen he was baptized. Two years later he left the military, proclaiming: “I am a soldier of Christ; it is not lawful for me to fight.” Interestingly, Martin’s feast day, Nov. 11, is also Veterans Day, which honors all who have served in the military and, additionally, commemorates the signing of the Armistice that ended fighting in World War I.

After leaving the army, Martin met Hilary, Bishop of Poitier, who encouraged the young man to return to Italy to try to win over his family and friends to the Christian faith. But upon arriving there he found himself surrounded by followers of the Arian heresy. After struggling to convert the Arians, Martin returned to Gaul (France) and established a monastery near Poitiers, where he gathered a group of followers and began preaching throughout the area. Because of his holiness, asceticism, and reputation as a miracle worker, the people elected him Bishop of Tours.

Martin founded many churches and monasteries and became a strong defender of the faith, fighting pagans and heretics with words rather than the sword. Known for his compassion, he became an early opponent of the death penalty and often pled for mercy on behalf of those condemned to death.
Because of Martin’s renown as a healer, people with various diseases and disorders came to him seeking cures, among them a leper, a paralytic, and a woman with an issue of blood. He also drove out evil spirits from the demon possessed and raised the dead. Those in the latter category included a man who had died without baptism, another who had hanged himself, and a third man, whose resuscitation resulted in the conversion a large crowd of pagans who had witnessed the miracle. Once, when a pagan attempted to behead him, the sword separated itself from the would-be assassin’s hand and fell harmlessly to the ground.

The most memorable incident in this great saint’s life occurred in the city of Amiens during his stint in the army. On a cold winter’s day as Martin was riding through the gate leaving the city, he encountered a practically naked beggar who was freezing from the cold. Deeply moved by the poor man’s suffering, the young soldier took his sword in hand, cut his cloak in two, and gave half to the poor stranger. That night Martin experienced a vision of Christ clothed in the portion of the cloak he had given to the beggar.

This great act of charity, immortalized in El Greco’s painting “St. Martin and the Beggar” and Van Dyck’s “St. Martin Dividing His Cloak,” brings to mind the admonition: “Whoever has two tunics should share with the person who has none.” (Luke 3:11) St. Ambrose, a contemporary of St. Martin, expressed it this way: “If you have two shirts in your closet, one belongs to you and the other to the man with no shirt.”

I like to think St. Martin had so internalized the teachings of Matthew 25 that he helped the beggar because charity was second nature to him. In Matthew 25:34-40 Jesus tells the blessed they will inherit the kingdom because they came to his aid when He was in need; among other things, He was naked and they clothed Him. These righteous ones, not realizing what Jesus meant, question Him about it, implying that they really didn’t do anything at all for their Lord. Then the King of Kings replies: “Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.”

How should we respond to the plight of the poor? Of course, we should pray for them, but that’s not enough. We must put our faith in action by performing the corporal works of mercy. Specifically, we are called to feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, welcome the stranger, clothe the naked, care for the sick, and visit the prisoner. This is what St. Paul meant by “faith working through love.” (Galatians 5:6b)
With so many needs and so many opportunities for giving of our time and resources, it shouldn’t be hard to find ways to follow St. Martin’s example. Contributing to relief efforts for those attempting to put their lives back together in the wake of the recent hurricanes is just one way. If we open our eyes and ears, the needs in our local communities will become readily apparent to us.

St. Martin of Tours, the soldier who didn’t want to fight, was one of the first holy persons to become a saint without being martyred. His abiding concern for the poor, the sick, and the imprisoned made him a model of compassion for his generation and an inspiration to Christians across the centuries. May this “soldier of Christ” inspire in us a fervent desire to become models of “faith working through love.”

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

Reflections on Life
By Melvin Arrington

Why does no one want to talk about sin these days? Why do people refuse to admit to wrongdoing anymore. The prevailing philosophy seems to be one of “I’m okay; you’re okay.” However, Scripture teaches that “if we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” (I John 1:8) We are all guilty as charged, every single one of us: “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23)

No matter how we classify it, sin involves disobedience; it is a transgression of God’s law. Some infractions are minor (venial); others sever our relationship with God and put our souls at risk (mortal). For the sin to be considered mortal it has to meet all of the following criteria: 1) it must involve grave matter, for example, when a person breaks one of the Ten Commandments or fails to perform works of charity as specified in the 25th chapter of Matthew; 2) the person must have full knowledge and awareness of the seriousness of the matter; 3) he must give full consent to what he is about to do; that is, his will must be unimpaired. At the risk of oversimplification, we might say that the mortal category applies when it deals with doing something that’s really bad, and the person realizes how serious it is, and he goes ahead and does it anyway. Not all our faults involve actions we take. They can include our thoughts and words as well. And when we recite the Confiteor, we acknowledge that we are responsible not only for the things we have done but also for what we have failed to do.

During the early Christian centuries, several attempts were made to catalog what became known as the seven deadly sins, also called the seven capital or cardinal sins. Evagrius Ponticus, a monk who lived in the fourth century, put together the first list, including in his compilation what he called eight evil thoughts that lead us into temptation. Others who followed in Evagrius’ footsteps produced registers alternating between seven and eight sins. At the end of the sixth century Pope Gregory I (Gregory the Great) composed a list of seven items that closely resemble the modern-day canon of deadly vices: anger, envy, lust, pride, gluttony, sloth and greed. Although the names used for denoting each of these may have varied across the ages, the transgressions themselves have remained the same. As Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen has remarked, there are no new sins; there are only new sinners.

Why do we sin in the first place? It’s because we’re all searching for happiness. But many are searching in all the wrong places. Instead of discovering the joy and contentment that come from having a deeply committed personal relationship with Jesus Christ, they grasp at the things the world has to offer – wealth, power, pleasure, fame, etc. These usually result in only short-term gratification and long-term unhappiness.

Every sin is an excess or a defect of something that is good. Not surprisingly, much of our modern secular culture is characterized by excess, self-absorption and perversion of the good. It tells us that the classic vices are not bad at all. In fact, they can be very good. What’s wrong, they say, with trying to get even with your enemy? Why feel guilty about accumulating as much wealth as possible without concern for the needs of the poor? What harm is there in having an occasional affair as long as no one gets hurt? What’s wrong is that in each case the ego is out of control. When the predominant attitude is one of “it’s all about me,” concepts such as forgiveness, generosity and sacrificial love get shoved out of the way.

So, how do we protect ourselves from enticements that may lead us astray? For a start, we can pray for an extra measure of grace to fight off temptation and make a conscious effort to avoid the near occasions of sin, that is, the things and places that can lead us away from God and His church. In addition, we should pray to St. Michael: “St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil.” And then we should follow up our prayers by putting them into action, for example, involving ourselves in a variety of charitable activities.

Bishop Robert Barron recommends practicing what he calls the seven lively virtues in order to cancel out the deadly vices. In other words, we should counterbalance anger with forgiveness, correct envy with admiration, exchange lust for chastity, rectify pride with humility, renounce gluttony in favor of temperance, counter sloth with zeal, and replace greed with generosity. Performing these virtues will loosen the bonds of sin and allow us to once again experience the love of God flowing through us.
Imagine an oblong box with anger, envy and lust aligned along one side, pride positioned at the head, and gluttony, sloth and greed stationed along the other side. The box represents a coffin; inside lies the soul. These deadly vices are, in the words of Archbishop Sheen, the “seven pallbearers of the soul.” They lead us down, down into darkness, down into the depths of sadness and despair, down, down to the death of the soul!

Our contemporary culture tries to pound into us the notion that the virtues are old-fashioned and out of step. But we know better. We know that by praying and doing good works we can, through the grace of God, cancel out those vices that pose the greatest threat to our spiritual wellbeing. If we follow the virtues, they will become for us stepping stones leading upward – up to peace and contentment, up to the attainment of our heart’s innermost desire, up to everlasting joy, up, up to God!

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

Reflections on Life
By Melvin Arrington

Each year the Christmas season gets underway with carols and festive songs on the radio, parades, parties, decorations and a host of holiday-themed movies on television. When you think of Christmas movies, certain perennial favorites come to mind, such as A Christmas Carol (1938), It’s a Wonderful Life (1946) and Miracle on 34th Street (1947). And if your taste runs to more modern fare, the viewing possibilities become almost endless.

But if you prefer movies of Hollywood’s Golden Age (1930s – 1950s), as I do, you may want to take a look at a couple of short films from the 1940s that, although seldom shown on TV, deserve some recognition and even a little fanfare. These little-known and unjustly neglected films: The Greatest Gift (1942) and Star in the Night (1945), with running times of 11 minutes and 22 minutes, respectively, are guaranteed to warm your heart and put you in the proper spirit to celebrate the birth of our Savior.

The Greatest Gift, as we learn in the opening frame, is based on a medieval French legend concerning monks who, while snowed in during the winter months, dedicate themselves to fashioning gifts they will offer to the Virgin when springtime arrives. When a half-frozen itinerate juggler, played by Edmund Gwenn (Kris Kringle in Miracle on 34th Street), is found outside the monastery, the abbot, Father Cyprian, has the poor man brought inside and cared for. The juggler, Bartolomé, was hoping to make it to the winter fair in Florence before the snow closed the pass to Italy, but the pass is already closed, so he will have to spend the winter with the monks.

With the coming of spring Bartolomé prepares to go on his way, but he is persuaded to remain for the next day’s festivities in honor of the Blessed Lady. As the monks add the final touches to their gifts, Bartolomé, intending to make an offering of his own, selects his two best juggling clubs, but Father Cyprian, in his wisdom, tells the poor juggler he will not allow him to give away his only means of earning a living, adding that after all, “a grateful heart is the greatest gift of all.”

The next day the monks process into the little chapel chanting and carrying their gifts – fine candles and fancy candlesticks, beautiful altarpieces and illuminated manuscripts – all of which they lay before the statue of the Virgin. Bartolomé offers a gift as well, but you will have to watch the film’s spectacular conclusion to discover what it is.

In Star in the Night (winner of the Academy Award for that year’s Best Short Film) the scene shifts from medieval Europe to Christmas Eve in the southwestern part of the United States in the 1940s. We see three men on horseback loaded with gifts they purchased because they wanted to impress a salesgirl. As they ride along in the dark, wondering what to do with all these store-bought items, they notice a bright star in the distance and ride toward it. The source of the light is a huge star-shaped sign advertising the Star Auto Court (as motels were called at that time) owned by the cynical, Scrooge-like Nick Catapoli and his virtuous wife, Rosa.

Nick, who thinks the worst of people and hates Christmas, refuses hospitality to a passing hitchhiker, a man who only wants to warm himself by the stove and get a cup of coffee. The hitchhiker espouses peace, brotherhood and love, but Nick calls these things “a lot of baloney.” On this night when everyone should be of good cheer, all the guests display just the opposite. They are discontented because they are thinking only of themselves: a woman complains because the people in the cabin next to hers are signing loudly (they are singing Christmas carols); a man is upset because the shirts he sent out to the cleaners were improperly ironed and one is torn; an elderly couple argue with Nick over getting extra blankets for their cabin.

At this point a young couple, José Santos and his wife María, arrive at the auto court. José asks for a cabin because María is not well. But Nick can’t help them because there are no more vacancies. However, Rosa generously offers them the use of a little shed, a barn, where the young couple can rest. Most viewers, long before this scene, will have figured out that Star in the Night is a re-telling of the Christmas story. What ensues after Rosa leads José and María to the barn is not unexpected, but it’s what happens to all the other characters that makes this little gem of a film memorable and well worth watching.

This Christmas season treat yourself to these two short films and you will wonder why they are not regularly shown on TV during the holidays. Each one is available on YouTube. For The Greatest Gift the website is: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n6QmDPF-ln8 and for Star in the Night go to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OXjdBs70syY. Happy viewing and Merry Christmas!

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

Reflections on Life
By Melvin Arrington

We all know what the commandment says: “You shall have no other gods before me.” (Exodus 20:3) The text goes on to state in a straightforward manner: “You shall not make for yourself an idol … You shall not bow down to them or worship them.” (verses 4a and 5a) Unfortunately, the Israelites did just that. They built altars to pagan idols and worshipped them rather than the one true God.

In our time we obviously don’t bow down to Baal or any of the other false gods mentioned in the Old Testament. Nevertheless, idolatry (worshipping some aspect of creation instead of the Creator) is pervasive in our contemporary culture. Our society considers practically everything more important than matters of faith. And anything we put before God becomes, in essence, an idol. Think about how our culture idolizes celebrities of all kinds. We put rock stars and sports heroes on a pedestal. The fact that we call certain movie actors matinee idols is especially telling.

What about family, friends, possessions, careers and leisure activities? Are we guilty at times of prioritizing any of these at the expense of Sunday worship? Instead of going to Mass, some choose to stay in bed a little longer on Sunday or perhaps play a round of golf or go to the lake. But because God is, in the words of St. Anselm, “that than which nothing greater can be thought,” we should always give Him precedence in our lives, especially on Sundays. In other words, we should make sure we get to Mass, and then we can do some of the other things, as long as we “keep the Sabbath day holy.” God wants first place in our lives. If we will make Him a priority, He will in turn supply our needs: “Strive first for the Kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” (Matthew 6:33)

When we pray the spiritual communion prayer, we say to Jesus: “I love you above all things.” Not some things, but all things. If I say I love God more than anything, I need to prove it; I need to live it. Others are watching, and the last thing I want to do is turn someone away from God and the church because they see that I’m not living out my faith.

Years ago, I met a man who belonged to a well-known civic organization that has clubs in practically every large city in the country. This man was heavily involved in the club’s service activities; it was his life. I know this because he told me one time that the club was his religion. Admirable as his commitment to service was, he clearly had his priorities mixed up.

Some people put flag and country first. It’s right and proper to love our country, but we should never privilege country over God. I belong to a local civic club (a different one from the club referred to above). Our meetings open with a prayer and the pledge of allegiance to the flag, in that order. But that wasn’t always the case. At one point, confusion arose among club members regarding how we should begin our meetings.

After some discussion, we finally resolved the issue by acknowledging that God is paramount. Prayer is always the first thing on our agenda. As is often the case, tradition helps us to get things right. As everyone knows, the phrase is “God and country,” not the other way around.

Daily scripture reading and prayer are other ways we can make the Lord preeminent in our lives. We offer up prayers of thanksgiving, praise, petition and intercession first thing in the morning, at various times during the day, including before meals and immediately before going to bed at night. Scripture study and prayer allow us to enter into intimate conversation with God. Do I sometimes forget one of my prayer times or fail to do the daily readings? Sure I do, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to give up my reading and prayer regimen altogether. The Christian life is a struggle in many ways, and one way this can manifest itself is in our study and prayer time.

If our modern society were to put things in their proper order, God, the source of all good things, would come first; others would be second, and we would place ourselves last. However, our culture usually gets that turned around. What we actually see is the self, the ego, first and foremost; and everything else far behind. Regrettably, the classic expression – looking out for number one – still holds sway. Advertising backs this up by encouraging consumers to pamper their ego, to “go for all the gusto.” So where does this leave God? It leaves Him out of the picture altogether.

How often do we put family, friends, sports and our own wishes before God? It’s difficult for me to reflect on this because I’ve been guilty of relegating God to second place or lower at various times in my life. But imagine what society would look like if we all gave God His rightful place. It would, in short, revolutionize our culture.

As in everything else in life, we have a choice. We must choose between the kingdom of God and the things this world has to offer. Choosing both is not an option because “no one can serve two masters.” (Matthew 6:24) As Christians, our desire should be to serve God first, always, and everywhere, because He is, was and always will be before all things. It’s His proper place.

Deuteronomy 6:4-5 contains the schema, the fundamental statement of the Jewish faith: “Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord alone. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.” Practicing Jews still recite this passage twice a day. Jesus expands on these words by showing us how to apply them to our lives: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” (Matthew 22:39)

Keeping the commandment “You shall have no other gods before me” requires that we love God with all of our being and that we put our faith into practice by transforming our selfishness into selflessness. In short, we show our love for God by our love for others. When we give God first place in our lives, we put others before ourselves. That’s the correct order.

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