por obispo Joseph Kopacz
Desde que fui ordenado e instalado como el 11ª obispo de Jackson en febrero de este año, una de las corrientes constantes de conversación ha sido la relación entre la Diócesis de Jackson y la Diócesis de Saltillo, en el Estado de Coahuila, México. Se hizo evidente para mí que un gran cruce cultural de evangelización se ha estado desarrollando durante más de 45 años, y ha tocado las vidas de miles de personas en ambos lados de la frontera.
Uno de mis objetivos durante mi primer año como obispo era el de encontrar un momento adecuado para realizar una peregrinación para visitar a nuestros amigos en Cristo que están a 1000 millas al sur de los Estados Unidos. La oportunidad se presentó en la semana del Día de Acción de Gracias, y la siguiente es un relato de esta breve incursión en la increíble experiencia de la misión.
Monseñor Mike Flannery y yo fuimos a visitar la misión diocesana en Saltillo, México, este 27 de noviembre y regresamos el 2 diciembre. Monseñor Flannery había servido en la misión en Saltillo durante tres años a principios de los años 70, al final de los 29 años del servicio misionero del Padre Patrick Quinn. El siguiente es un resumen de nuestras actividades de acuerdo a la descripción del Padre Mike.
“El Obispo Kopacz quería conocer San Miguel y los diversos programas de extensión patrocinados por la misión. Nos reunimos con los sacerdotes, los catequistas y los voluntarios y visitamos dos ejidos (Santa Rosa y Sabanillas). Dentro de la ciudad de Saltillo visitamos las siete iglesias patrocinadas por la misión. En nuestra última noche participamos en la bendición de la primera piedra para la construcción de la Divina Misericordia con el Obispo Raúl Vera, Obispo de Saltillo, y al final de la reunión disfrutamos de una cena con el Obispo Vera y el Padre David Martínez y el Padre Evelio Casarrubias, los dos sacerdotes mexicanos asignados a San Miguel. Nuestra reunión con el Obispo Raúl salió muy bien. El acogió con beneplácito nuestro compromiso con la misión y espera que continúe la cooperación inter-diocesana mientras seguimos avanzando.
La Divina Misericordia es una impresionante nueva aventura que incluirá todo un complejo que tendrá una iglesia, un hogar para madres solteras, y un dormitorio para los estudiantes de los pueblos cercanos que quieren asistir a la universidad de la ciudad de Saltillo, pero no puede pagar el alquiler de viviendas. El lote es de una magnitud considerable (100 metros por 100 metros) y tiene un gran potencial para una futura expansión. El Obispo Kopacz quedó encantado de San Miguel, los sacerdotes, los colaboradores, los catequistas y los voluntarios. Él compartirá con ustedes sus impresiones.”
Como indica el Padre Mike, disfrutamos de cuatro días completos de actividad pastoral. Permítanme resumir algunos hechos recientes en la historia de nuestra relación con Saltillo. El Padre Bennie Pavone, un sacerdote jubilado de Nueva Orleáns, había estado trabajando en la Misión San Miguel durante seis años, y él y yo habíamos planeado mi visita pastoral para principios del este verano. Él murió repentinamente en agosto, y su comunidad parroquial de la Ascensión del Señor en La Plaza, Louisiana, lo encomendó a Dios con abundante amor y respeto. Antes del Padre Bennie, los sacerdotes de las diócesis de Jackson y Biloxi había prestado servicios en la misión durante 40 años. El Padre Patrick Quinn fue el bien amado pastor por 29 años y derramó su vida en el cuidado del pueblo del Señor, sobre todo en muchos ranchos lejanos.
Hasta hace unos seis años, un gran número de católicos de Mississippi viajaban todos los años a Saltillo para servir en las misiones. Esto creó una red de relaciones personales que figuran en las palabras del Papa Francisco, una cultura de encuentro entre discípulos misioneros. Una red de oración, generosidad, y ayuda fluyó hacia el norte y hacia el sur. El objetivo de la misión es servir a los pobres, especialmente a los marginados que se olvidan fácilmente. A la luz de esta notable historia, el Padre Mike y yo reconocimos la urgencia de nuestra visita.
En primer lugar, fue una oportunidad para fortalecer los lazos que nos unen. Yo tuve la oportunidad de partir el pan (tortillas) con el Obispo Raúl como Padre Mike indicó, y conocer a los principales dirigentes de la Misión San Miguel. Para el Padre Mike también fue una oportunidad conocer a los directivos de esta generación, y reavivar los lazos que se establecieron hace más de 40 años. Después de muchas inspiradoras liturgias, muchas comidas suntuosas que siguieron a la mayoría de las liturgias, y muchos kilómetros de senderos entre los sinuosos caminos de la ciudad, el Padre Mike y yo podríamos decir que teníamos el olor de las ovejas en las palabras del Papa Francisco, en el conocimiento del ambiente rural y de las muchas personas que conocieron.
Nuestra misión era determinar el grado en que los dirigentes actuales en la Misión San Miguel están fomentando la visión del Padre Quinn y la visión de las miles de personas de Mississippi que viajan a la misión, y/o apoyan a través de la oración y la generosidad. Esta visión se articula en un libro publicado recientemente en testimonio al Padre Quinn escrito por Jesús Alberto Salas Cortes.
A principios de su ministerio, cuando la gente del pueblo empezó a murmurar que él está pasando demasiado tiempo en el monte, él respondió que “había ido a Saltillo para servir a la gente de los ranchos, y que no estaba preocupado por las críticas y denuncias que ésto provocaba. Por lo tanto, dedicó la mayor parte de su tiempo a visitar los ranchos, donde construyó capillas con la asistencia de la población de las diócesis de Mississippi.
Como el Padre Mike indicó en su resumen de nuestra peregrinación, pudimos palpar de cerca la dedicación de los dirigentes actuales, y el fiel desarrollo del sueño del Padre Quinn. Las mujeres y los hombres, los sacerdotes y los religiosos, están trabajando juntos para desarrollar esa área en base a esa visión.
Me sentí edificado, humilde, e inspirado al experimentar tanto en un breve período de tiempo, y les quiero asegurar que nuestro apoyo a la misión en el futuro continuará el legado.
Es triste que la realidad en México es demasiado peligrosa para los viajes misioneros, y que ni la diócesis de Biloxi ni la de Jackson pueden ofrecer un sacerdote para el servicio. Pero podemos permanecer activos en el futuro inmediato a través de la oración, la generosidad y las visitas pastorales. A través de nuestro mejorado sitio web diocesano y red de comunicación vamos a poder traer nuestra familia misionera muy cerca a casa de una forma regular.
En resumen, además de orar, comer y conversar, cociné mi primera tortilla, preparé cemento para la piedra angular de la construcción de la Divina Misericordia, y anduve por senderos y carreteras durante horas. Mi primera peregrinación a nuestra querida misión no será la última.
Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, ruega por nosotros.
En el Adviento fe y esperanza, Ven, Señor Jesús.
Category Archives: Columnists
Bishop thankful for Saltillo pilgrimage
By Bishop Joseph Kopacz
Since I was ordained and installed, as the 11th bishop of Jackson way back in February, one of the steady streams of conversation has been the relationship between the Diocese of Jackson and the Diocese of Saltillo, in the State of Coahuila, Mexico. It became obvious to me that considerable cross cultural evangelization has been at work for more than 45 years, and it has touched the lives of thousands on each side of the border. One of my goals for my first year as bishop was to find a suitable time to make a pilgrimage to our friends in Christ 1,000 miles to the south. That opportunity presented itself over the Thanksgiving weekend, and the following is a snap shot of this brief venture into an amazing mission experience.
Msgr. Mike Flannery and I went to visit our inter-diocesan mission in Saltillo, Mexico on November 27th and returned on December 2nd. Msgr. Flannery had served in the Saltillo mission for three years in the early 70’s at the outset of Father Patrick Quinn’s 29 years of missionary service. The following is a summary of our activities from Msgr. Flannery. “Bishop Kopacz wanted to get to know San Miguel, and the various outreach programs sponsored by the mission. We met with the priests, catechists and volunteers and visited two ejidos (Santa Rosa and Sabanillas).
“Within the city of Saltillo we visited the seven churches sponsored by the mission. On our final night we participated in the blessing of the foundation stone of Divina Misericordia with Bishop Raul Vera, Bishop of Saltillo, and we ended the meeting enjoying dinner with Bishop Raul Vera and Father David and Father Evelio, the two Mexican priests assigned to San Miguel. Our meeting with Bishop Raul went very well. He welcomed our involvement with the mission and hoped for a continuance of cooperation in the inter-diocesan agreement as we move forward.
“Divina Misericordia is an impressive new venture that will include a whole complex consisting of a church, a home for unwed mothers, and a dormitory for students from the villages who want to attend university in Saltillo but cannot afford the housing rent. The lot is quite sizeable (100 meters by 100 meters) and has great potential for future expansion. Bishop Kopacz was enamored with San Miguel, the priests, staff, catechists and volunteers. He will share with you his impressions.”
As Msgr. Flannery indicates we enjoyed four full days of pastoral activity. Allow me to summarize some recent history in our relationship with Saltillo. Father Bennie Piovan, a retired priest from New Orleans, had been laboring in the San Miguel Mission for six years, and he and I had arranged for my pastoral visit earlier in the summer. He died suddenly in August, and his parish community of the Ascension of the Lord in La Place, Louisiana, commended him to God with abundant love and respect. Prior to Father Bennie, the priests of the Jackson and Biloxi dioceses had served the mission for 40 years. Father Patrick Quinn was the beloved good shepherd for 29 years and poured out his life in the care of the Lord’s people, especially on many remote ranchos.
Up until about six years ago countless thousands of Mississippi Catholics had journeyed to Saltillo to serve in the missions. This created a network of personal relationships that embodied in the words of Pope Francis, a culture of encounter among missionary disciples. A pipeline of prayer, generosity, and assistance flowed north and south. The mission was to serve the poor, especially those on the fringes who are easily forgotten. In light of this remarkable history Msgr. Flannery and I recognized the urgency of our visit.
First and foremost it was an opportunity to strengthen the ties that bind us together. I was able to break bread (tortillas) with Bishop Raul as Msgr. Flannery indicated, and to meet the key leadership throughout the San Miguel Mission. For Msgr. Flannery it was an opportunity also to meet the leadership of this generation, and to rekindle older bonds that were forged more than 40 years ago. Many inspiring liturgies later, many sumptuous meals following most of the liturgies, and many miles off the beaten paths including winding city streets, Msgr. Flannery and I could say that we had the smell of the sheep, in the words of Pope Francis, and the lay of the land.
Our mission was to ascertain the degree to which the current leadership in the San Miguel Mission was fostering the vision of Father Quinn and the vision of countless thousands who journeyed from Mississippi to the mission, and/or supported it through prayer and generosity. This vision is articulated in a just published book in testimony to Father Quinn written by Jesus Alberto Salas Cortes. Early in his ministry, when people in town began to murmur that he was spending too much time out in the boondocks, he replied that “he had come to Saltillo to serve the people of the ranchos, and that he was not concerned about the criticism and complaints that this provoked. Thus he dedicated the greater part of his time visiting the ranchos, where he built chapels with the assistance of the people of the Diocese of Jackson.
As Msgr. Flannery indicated in his summary of our pilgrimage, we experienced firsthand the dedication of the current leadership, and the faithful development of Father Quinn’s dream. Women and men, priests and religious are working together to build upon that vision. I was edified, humbled and inspired to experience so much in a brief period of time, and I want to assure you that our support for the mission going forward will carry on the legacy. It is sad that the reality in Mexico is far too dangerous for mission trips, and that neither Biloxi nor Jackson is able to release a priest for service. But we can remain active for the foreseeable future through prayer and generosity, as well as through pastoral visits. Through our enhanced diocesan website and communication network we will be able to bring our mission family very close to home on a regular basis.
In summary, along with praying, eating and conversing, I baked my first tortilla, ladled cement for the cornerstone of Divine Mercy, and bounced along rutted roads for hours. My first pilgrimage to our beloved mission will not be my last.
Our Lady of Guadalupe, pray for us.
In Advent faith and hope, Come Lord Jesus.
(Editor’s note: see related story on page 16)
Self-Sacrifice and the Eucharist
IN EXILE
By Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI
In 1996, Muslim extremists martyred nearly an entire community of Trappist monks in Atlas, Algeria. Many of us, thanks to the movie, Of Gods and Men, are familiar with their story and are familiar too with the extraordinary faith and courage with which these monks, particularly their Abbott, Christian de Cherge, met their deaths. Indeed the last letters of Christian de Cherge reveal a faith and love that is truly extraordinary.
For example, in the months leading up to his death, when he already sensed what was to befall him, he wrote a letter to his family within which he already forgave his killers and hoped that they would later be with him in heaven, with both them and him playing in the sun before God. As well, after his first face-to-face meeting with a terrorist leader, who has just beheaded nine people, he prayed: “Disarm me, disarm them.”
In his journals, which are published today, he shares this story: On the morning of his First Communion, he told his mother that he really didn’t understand what he was doing in receiving the Eucharist. His mother replied, simply: “You will understand later on.” His journals then trace how his understanding of the Eucharist deepened during his lifetime, especially in the light of his interrelation with Islam and one extraordinary incident in his life. This was the extraordinary incident:
From July 1959 until January 1961, Christian was an officer serving with the French army in Algeria. While there, he befriended a man named Mohammed, a family man, a simple man, and a devout Muslim. They soon forged a very deep bond. One day, during a military skirmish, Christian was taken captive by the Algerian army. His friend, Mohammed, intervened and convinced his captors that Christian was sympathetic to their cause. Christian was released but, the next day, Mohammed was found murdered, in retaliation for his role in freeing Christian.
This act of selflessness by his Muslim friend, who in effect gave his life for Christian, permanently seared Christian’s soul. It was never far from his mind and his decision, as a monk, to return to Algeria and live in solidarity with the Muslim community at Atlas and remain there until he died, was largely a result of that foundational event. But it also deepened his understanding of the Eucharist.
His mother had told him: “You will understand later,” and now he did understand: The Eucharist doesn’t just make Jesus present; it also makes present his sacrificial death for us. Jesus died for us “and for the many;” but so too did his friend, Mohammed. He also gave his death for another and in that sacrifice both imitated Jesus’ death and participated in it. Thus, for Christian, every time he celebrated the Eucharist, he celebrated too the gift of Mohammed’s sacrifice for him. His friend, Mohammed, had also shed his blood “for the many.”
Mohammed’s sacrifice helped Christian to recognize and more deeply appropriate Jesus’ sacrifice because he believed that, in the Eucharist, Jesus’ sacrifice and his friend’s sacrifice were both made real and both rendered present. Christian believed that Christ’s sacrifice includes the sacrifice shown in every act of sacrificial love and consequently his friend’s sacrifice was part of Christ’s sacrifice.
He’s right. At every Eucharist we memorialize the gift that Jesus made of his death, but that memorial includes too the sacrificial gift of everyone who has imitated Jesus’ selfless love and sacrifice. In the Eucharist, the sacrifice of Christ that we memorialize includes the sacrifice of all who have died, however unconsciously, “for the many.”
The Eucharist is a far-reaching mystery with multiple depths and levels of meaning. We don’t ever fully grasp it. But we’re in good company: When Jesus instituted the Eucharist at the Last Supper the apostles also didn’t really understand what he was doing, as is witnessed by Peter’s protests when Jesus tries to wash their feet. Peter’s protests show clearly that he did not comprehend what Jesus meant in this Eucharistic gesture. And so, Jesus’ words to Peter and the apostles are almost identical to those Christian de Cherge’s mother spoke to him when he told her that he didn’t understand the Eucharist: “Later, you will understand.”
When I made my First Communion, I had a childlike understanding of the Eucharist. In my seven-year-old, catechized mind, I believed that I was receiving the real body of Jesus and that, at the Mass where the Eucharistic hosts were consecrated, we celebrated the sacrifice of Jesus that opened the gates of heaven for us. Numerous theology degrees and 60 years later, I know now that what I understood about the Eucharist as a child was correct; but I also know that when those two things, Christ’s real presence and Christ’s sacrifice for us, are unpackaged, we find ourselves immersed in an ineffable mystery within which, among other things, all who sacrifice in love for us are also part of the Real Presence.
And so we keep going to Eucharist, knowing that later, we will understand.
(Oblate Father Ron Rolheiser, theologian, teacher and award-winning author, is President of the Oblate School of Theology in San Antonio, TX.)
Let Isaiah inspire cooperation
Complete the circle
By George Evans
I am writing this column during the first week of Advent. After hearing the voice of Isaiah from the Lectionary on Tuesday and Wednesday I knew I had my choice of topic as I stared at my blank computer screen. I find these two passages from Isaiah, 11:1-10 and 25:6-10, as the most meaningful, uplifting, inspiring and beautiful of anything in the Old Testament prophets. Please read them and join me in this Advent reflection.
“A shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse, and from his roots a bud shall blossom.” Why is this shoot so special? Because, “The Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him.” And because of this ‘’Not by appearance shall he judge, nor by hearsay shall he decide, but he shall judge the poor with justice, and decide aright for the land’s afflicted.”
This special one shall wear “Justice as the band around his waist, and faithfulness a belt upon his hips.” As Catholic Christians we know this special one in Isaiah’s prophecy is Jesus whose birth we wait with anticipation to celebrate shortly once again. To do so well we must wear justice as a band around our waist and judge the poor accordingly not by appearances or hearsay. We must sprout because the Spirit of the Lord has rested upon us as He did upon Jesus. Isaiah then paints the magnificent vision of what will happen when all the above takes place.
The wolf and the lamb, the leopard and the kid, the calf and the young lion, the cow and the bear, the lion and the ox shall all lie down together and be at peace and “There shall be no harm or ruin on all my holy mountain; for the earth shall be filled with knowledge of the Lord, as water covers the sea.”
The knowledge of the Lord shall do all these things. It does it for us as well. Democrats and Republicans shall cooperate and rule for the good of all, progressive and conservative Catholics shall drop their anathemas directed at each other and embrace for the good of Christ’s body, the church. Rich and poor shall share the goods of creation given to all by the Lord of all and do the necessary tough work together to heal the scars of poverty, resentment, prejudice and fear in our culture. Our systems will be changed so that all prosper by the efforts of each other.
Isaiah’s Wednesday passage is so special I want it read at my funeral. “On this mountain the Lord of hosts will provide for all peoples a feast of rich food and choice wines, juicy, rich food and pure, choice wines.”
Everyone gets great food and wine. No one can complain about that but we must all cooperate with the Lord to make it come true. And if we do, that same Lord will “Destroy death forever. The Lord God will wipe away the tears from all faces.” That intimacy we all long for with the Lord which St. Augustine and all saints proclaim will finally be realized.
“On that day it will be said: Behold our God, to whom we looked to save us! This is the Lord for whom we looked; let us rejoice and be glad that he has saved us! For the hand of the Lord will rest on this mountain.”
The Jesus we long for again in this Advent season, though already with us, will come again in the blessed spirit of Christmas so that in the neediness of our flesh and blood we can be nourished in the incarnation of God into flesh and blood to forever show us the way and give us a model to follow.
Isaiah tells us what God will bring from the shoot from the stump of Jesse, how He will impact the world we live in, how He will bring peace and harmony to the animals and children, how on His holy mountain there will be no more harm or ruin for anyone. He invites us to eat rich food and drink choice wines, to have our tears wiped away forever, to rejoice and be glad that he has saved us.
We now need to buy in as He has taught us. To believe in Him as Lord and Savior, to seek and follow the will of the Father, to pick up our cross and follow him, to be a servant and not a master. To love unconditionally as He has loved us. To let love and compassion rule in our lives rather than anger and greed and to be active rather than passive. To welcome him again at Christmas with open arms and sheer delight. To enjoy rich food and choice wines and be glad and grateful that He has saved us.
(George Evans is a pastoral minister at Jackson St. Richard Parish.)
Texas bishop’s funeral leads to reflection on vocations
Reflections on Life
By Father Jerome LeDoux, SVD
Mother Nature provided somewhat windy but otherwise unseasonably near perfect weather Saturday, November 29. People had driven or flown in from states near and far to be a part of the final salute to a native son who had risen from the rank and file Christians to be an overseer of priests, as the Greek term episkopein expresses episcopus or bishop.
Both outside and inside the church, it was obvious from the outset that the religious mindset of the church members was that old-time, dyed-in-the-wool Catholic culture that permeated their demeanor, their smile, their greeting and their words. Equally, processing into the church and recessing out of the church, they were eager to touch or shake hands.
At the top of their skill set, the men’s choir did the honors for the homegoing of Bishop Leonard Olivier, singing for the processional and recessional “Lead Me, Guide Me,” the hymn whose opening words are the motto on his episcopal coat of arms. It was the same hymn sung as the processional at his episcopal ordination on Dec. 10, 1988.
“’Lead Me, Guide Me’ was the appropriate slogan that expressed exactly who Bishop Olivier was and how he served his people,” said Bishop Glen J. Provost of the Diocese of Lake Charles who was the principal celebrant and homilist for the Mass of resurrection. “He was a humble man of uncommon character and a willingness to serve.”
Both Sacred Heart Church deacons were at the altar. Senior Deacon Edward Lavine read the Gospel and recently-ordained Deacon Erroll DeVille read the Prayer of the Faithful. So, in its own way, Sacred Heart Church is still producing vocations, giving hope that someday other nuns – there have been a half dozen – and other priests will be called.
In fact, present at the Mass were also Robert and Roxanne Boxie, Jr., Sacred Heart regulars whose son, Robert Boxie III is completing his theological studies at the Pontifical North American College housed at the Casa Santa Maria in Rome, and is set to be ordained in October. Robert’s ordination should be a spark for other vocations at Sacred Heart. It is noteworthy that Robert is the first from Sacred Heart to study and be ordained in Rome.
Bishops concelebrating at the altar were James Terry Steib, SVD, of Memphis; Curtis John Guillory, SVD, of Beaumont; Dominic Carmon, SVD, retired, New Orleans; Martin David Holley of Washington D.C. and Shelton Joseph Fabre of Houma-Thibodaux.
The first five pews opposite the pulpit side were occupied with 28 priests, including SVD Southern Provincial Superior Father Paul Kahan, outgoing Provincial Father James Pawlicki, a generous sprinkling of SVD priests from area churches, plus a sampling of Josephites, a representative of the Norbertines, and diocesan priests such as Father August Thompson.
Congregational Leader Greta Jupiter, SBS was present with Sister Laura Mercier, and Sister Joseph Ann Gillett, of the New Orleans Sisters of the Holy Family flock.
Driven by a loving and reverent sweet melancholy, the women and men of Sacred Heart milled around as we filed out of Mass, huddled together, then milled around again at Sacred Heart Cemetery, and finally broke bread together at Sacred Heart Hall where the warm camaraderie was constantly in evidence and lingered until 4 p.m. There was an overwhelming atmosphere of faith, hope and Godly love in the extended faith family. My cousin, Rev. Randy LeDoux, could not get enough of the camaraderie and congeniality.
“Can any good come out of Nazareth?” Nathanael asked Philip in John 1:45 when Philip told him, “We have found the one about whom Moses wrote in the law, and also the prophets, Jesus, son of Joseph, from Nazareth.” Can any good come from Lake Charles? Yes, a lot has, as well as SVD Fathers John LaBauve, Joseph and Ray Guidry of Abbeville, Bishops Terry Steib of South Vacherie, Curtis Guillory of Mallet, and Dominic Carmon of Gradney Island.
Amid dazzling photos from Bishop Leonard Olivier’s priestly ordination in 1951, his surviving siblings, Theresa (Ninie) and Edward, basked in the afterglow of their brother’s heroic stint as God’s special servant, and his holy transit into our Father’s kingdom. Edward again, “There will be a mighty celebration up there! What a time we will have with God!”
Many alumni seminarians, who wondered why Bishop Olivier had not attended the most recent annual October alumni gathering in Bay St. Louis, Miss., were there in force with still other alumni. Massing together after the interment prayers, they boomed forth the Salve Regina, the same daily evening prayer song led by Prefect Olivier at St. Augustine Seminary. Initiated by a teary Deacon Lavine, it took all thoughts back decades.
“God is love, and all who abide in love abide in God and God in them.” (1 John 4:16)
(Father Jerome LeDoux, SVD, is pastor of Our Mother of Mercy Parish in Fort Worth, Texas. He has written “Reflections on Life since 1969.)
Season calls for hope, rest, renewal
By Bishop Joseph Kopacz
We are now at the halfway point of the month of November, a month that majestically begins in our Catholic tradition of faith with the feast of All Saints along with the hope-filled commemoration of All Souls. During this time of year, our hearts and minds are naturally and spiritually drawn to the end of time and space, as we know it, to the mystery of eternal life.
“We are God’s children now. What we shall later be has not yet come to light. (1Jn3). We see things dimly now, as in a mirror, but then we shall see face to face,” (1Corinthians 13). We are called to be in eternal communion with living God, through Jesus Christ, crucified and risen from the dead. “I believe in the communion of saints, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting,” are the statements of faith that conclude the proclamation of creedal belief that we proclaim on Sundays and feast days.
The seasons of the year, God’s gift of creation, speak to the seasons of human life, and the inexorable engine of time. Autumn provides the natural setting in the Northern Hemisphere to reflect upon, and embrace the reality that mortality has the upper hand in this life. Even in Mississippi as the daylight hours diminish the early autumn mornings can be brisk, bordering on cold.
During these southern November days, I am delighting in the fall foliage, and the brown grass, and the leaves that cover backyards and fairways, a full month after NEPA (Northeast Pennsylvania). The natural world in manifest ways is dying to self, preparing to rest in winter’s dormancy. In a paradoxical way there is a unique beauty with dying and death in the natural world that can draw us deeper into the finitude of our own lives.
So it is with the seasons of human life. Developmental psychologists have made enormous contributions to our understanding of life’s challenges and opportunities at every stage on the journey, beginning with life in the womb up to the moment when the sun sets on a person’s life. Early on we seek to establish our identity.
Upon this foundation we continue to build the structure of our lives at the onset of adulthood. At mid-life, stagnation frequently comes knocking at the door, and we must dig deeper to remain loving and productive. With the onset of old age wisdom can be the welcome guest, or a person could succumb to various forms of despair. “Therefore we do not lose heart. Although our outer selves are wasting away, our inner selves are being renewed each day,” (2Corinthians 4,2).
It is true that the gift of faith in Jesus Christ blesses us with the promise of eternal life through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. Yet, there is sober reality all around us slogging through time, even while we possess the sense dof the eternal. In the movie, “The Hobbit,” Gollum and Bilbo Baggins go head to head with riddles that entertain, but also confront the viewer with life’s somber reality.
Riddle 3:
It cannot be seen, cannot be felt,
Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt.
It lies behind stars and under hills,
And empty holes it fills.
It comes out first and follows after,
Ends life, kills laughter.
The answer is darkness. A poignantly clever riddle, no doubt, but in faith one that succumbs to the powerful words of the Word made flesh, Jesus the Christ. “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life,” (John 8,12).
Gollum’s final riddle stumps Bilbo, and he needs more time to solve it.
Riddle 5:
This thing all things devours;
Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;
Gnaws iron, bites steel;
Grinds hard stones to meal;
Slays king, ruins town,
And beats mountain down.
Bilbo needed more time to realize that the answer to the riddle is time. Sometimes people are given more time to get it right, or to right wrongs, and sometimes not. Time is fleeting (tempus fugit); it passes quickly. “Our days on earth are like grass; like wildflowers, we bloom and die,” (Psalm 103,15). Yet, once again we have the words that are eternal in the face of the conquering worm. “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die,” (John 11,25).
Jesus once said to the Sadducees, non-believers in eternal life, who were trying to trip him up: “You are so wrong. Our God is the God of the living, not the dead,” (Matthew 22, 32). The Catholic Church celebrated the promise of eternal life in the recent canonizations of Saint Pope John Paul II, and Saint Pope John XXIII. We embrace the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, and life everlasting.
As we pray for our beloved dead with greater attention and intention this month, and ask the intercession of the saints, may their love and prayers on our behalf inspire us to live a life worthy of the calling we have received by virtue of the three gifts that last, faith, hope, and love.
Early learning an opportunity for joy
Forming our Future
By Jennifer Henry
“Announce the Good News! Read the sign of the times.” These are the words of Sister Paula Blouin, SSND, director of Madison Assisi Early Learning Center, and trailblazer in early childhood education in the Diocese of Jackson. “There is a tremendous need for quality childcare. Young families are looking for a loving, safe, educational and nurturing environment for their children. Mothers and fathers want to feel good about leaving their children,” added Sister Blouin.
There are three early learning centers now in the Diocese of Jackson: Assisi Early Learning Center, Natchez Holy Family Early Learning Center and Flowood St. Paul Early Learning Center. Sister Blouin opened Assisi Early Learning Center in 1987 answering a need for early childhood education. She built a center that is a model for the rest of the diocese. Three years later she helped Father Edward Balser, pastor of St. Paul Parish, open St. Paul Early Learning Center. Holy Family is the oldest in the group. The parish was first established in 1890.
Sister Blouin warmly welcomes visitors to her center and has willingly and generously helped many parishes explore the possibility of establishing early learning centers in Mississippi. Sister believes there is a great need for early childhood education. “We don’t just babysit. We are more than a daycare,” she explained. She is like the foundress of her order, Blessed Mother Theresa of Jesus Gerhardinger, a revolutionary and exceptional educator who sent her sisters into communities where they taught girls who would have otherwise been deprived of an adequate education. Gerhardinger is quoted as saying, “The love of Jesus sees into the future.”
Research about early learning is filled with optimism about the possibilities of shaping children’s academic success through early intervention. We know how important it is to talk to babies, to read to them. This contributes to a child’s academic success. Sister Blouin says that it is a well-known fact that 50 percent of values and morals are formed by five years of age. The early years are a crucial time for children to grow in mind, body and spirit.
Catholic educators are particularly privileged at early learning centers to observe and share in the development of the spiritual growth of children. At St. Paul Early Learning Center, we have begun using the Catechesis of the Good Shepherd program where the mystery of God meets the mystery of the child. This program teaches young children about the covenant relationship with God. “I have called you by name, you are mine….Because you are precious in my sight and honored, and I love you,” (Isaiah 43:1, 4).
Gianna Gobbi, Maria Montessori and Sofia Cavelletti, all pioneers in early childhood education, each played important roles in creating the Catechesis of the Good Shepherd. Their work designed a curriculum where children could develop concentration, order, grace and courtesy, care of self and the environment. The children are surrounded by a prepared environment, the atrium, that is simple, beautiful, neat, organized and authentic. The materials allow children opportunities to use their multiple intelligences. As Montessori said, “The hand is the avenue to the brain.”
The Good Shepherd program is rooted in scripture and liturgy. The children learn to live the life of the liturgy in the atrium. They listen to scripture, meditate on the stories and wonder. The work in the atrium helps the children build that relationship with Jesus that He initiates so we may have life to the full and joy.
Joy! It is what children bring to us so innocently, lovingly and generously. Pope Francis has called us as God’s people to live the joy of the Gospel. Early childhood centers are certainly a ministry of the church that create multiple ways of meeting the needs of parents and children. There is good news to share about the Early Learning Centers in the Diocese of Jackson.
Like Sister Blouin, hopefully more parishes will respond to the sign of the times and embrace the most important instruction at the most crucial time in our children’s lives. As Jesus said, “let the children come to me, do not prevent them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these,” (Matthew 19: 14).
(Jennifer Henry is the director of the Early Childhood Learning Center at Flowood St. Paul Parish.)
Synod looking at doctrine through lens of development, not revolution
Word on Fire
By Father Robert Barron
The controversies surrounding the recent Extraordinary Synod on the Family have often put me in mind of John Henry Cardinal Newman, the greatest Catholic churchman of the 19th century. Newman wrote eloquently on an extraordinary range of topics, including university education, the play between faith and reason, the nature of papal authority and the subtle manner in which we come to assent in matters of religion. But the arguments around the Synod compel us to look at Newman’s work regarding the evolution of doctrine.
When he was at mid-career and in the process of converting from Anglicanism to Roman Catholicism, Newman penned a masterpiece entitled “On the Development of Christian Doctrine.” In line with the evolutionary theories that were just emerging at that time — Hegel’s work was dominant in most European universities and Darwin’s “On the Origin of Species” would appear just a few years later — Newman argued that Christian doctrines are not given once for all and simply passed down unchanged from generation to generation.
Rather, like seeds that unfold into plants or rivers that deepen and broaden over time, they develop, their various aspects and implications emerging in the course of lively rumination. It is assuredly not the case, for example, that the doctrine of the Trinity was delivered fully-grown into the minds of the first disciples of Jesus and then passed on like a football across the ages. On the contrary, it took hundreds of years for the seed of that teaching to grow into the mighty tree of Augustine’s formulations in the “De Trinitate” or Aquinas’s complex treatise in the first part of the “Summa Theologiae.”
Moreover, Newman felt that even those definitive theological achievements in turn develop and unfold as they are mused over, turned around, questioned and argued about. He concludes: “a real idea is equivalent to the sum total of its possible aspects.” And those aspects appear only in the course of time and through the play of the lively minds that consider them. It is precisely in this context that Newman penned the most famous line of “On the Development of Christian Doctrine:” “In a higher world it is otherwise; but here below, to live is to change and to be perfect is to have changed often.” Ideas change because they are living things.
I realize that many, upon considering this view, will get nervous — as did many in Newman’s day. Does this mean that doctrine is up for grabs? Should we keep our dogmatic statements, as one cynical wag once put it, in loose-leaf binders? To get some clarity on this point, I would recommend that we delve a little further into Newman’s great book and examine the criteria that he laid out to determine the difference between a legitimate development (which makes the doctrine in question more fully itself) and a corruption (which undermines the doctrine). Newman presents seven in total, but I should like to examine just three.
The first is what he calls preservation of type. A valid development preserves the essential form and structure of what came before. If that type is undermined, we are dealing with a corruption. Mind you, type can be maintained even through enormous superficial changes, as, to use Newman’s own example, “a butterfly is a development of the caterpillar but not in any sense its image.”
A second criterion is what Newman refers to as “conservative action upon its past.” An evolution that simply reverses or contradicts what came before it is necessarily a corruption and not a development. In Newman’s own words, an authentic development “is an addition that illustrates, not obscures; corroborates, not corrects the body of thought from which it proceeds.” In accord with this idea, Christianity could be seen as the development of Judaism, since it preserves the essential teachings and practices of that faith, even as it moves beyond them. Cardinal George Pell alluded to this principle when he said, during the recent Synod debates, “the Church does not do back-flips on doctrine.” So, for example, if a proposal were put forth at the Extraordinary Synod that simply contradicted the teaching of John Paul II in Familiaris Consortio or Paul VI in Humanae Vitae, it would certainly reflect a corruption.
A third criterion that Newman puts forward is what he calls “the power of assimilation.” Just as a healthy organism can take in what it can from its environment, even as it resists what it must, so a sane and lively idea can take to itself what is best in the intellectual atmosphere, even as it throws off what is noxious. Both total accommodation to the culture and total resistance to it are usually signs of intellectual sickness.
Now how does all of this apply to the Synod? Well, let’s consider the proposal made by Cardinal Walter Kasper regarding communion for the divorced and re-married. Is it an authentic development or a corruption of Catholic moral teaching and practice? Would Newman be opposed in principle to change in this regard? Not necessarily, for he knew that to live is to change. Would he therefore enthusiastically embrace what Cardinal Kasper has proposed? Not necessarily, for it might represent a corruption. As the conversation continues to unfold over the coming months, I think all sides would benefit from a careful reading of “On the Development of Christian Doctrine.”
(Father Robert Barron is the founder of the global ministry, Word on Fire, and the Rector/President of Mundelein Seminary. He is the creator of the award winning documentary series, “Catholicism” and “Catholicism: The New Evangelization.” Learn more at www.WordonFire.org.)
Pray for us … intercessions powerful tools
By Karla Luke
Intercessory prayer, to pray and seek good for others, is a powerful form of prayer and evangelization. It involves pleading with and thanking God on behalf of another person or persons. God loves a heart that is generous for others and we can find many examples of this in Scripture.
Consider St. Paul’s letter to Timothy, “First of all, then, I ask that supplications, prayers, petitions, and thanksgivings be offered for everyone, for kings and for all in authority, that we may lead a quiet and tranquil life in all devotion and dignity. This is good and pleasing to God our savior, who wills everyone to be saved and to come to knowledge of the truth.” (1 Timothy 2:1-4)
Jesus Christ is our ultimate intercessor, as he stands between us and God, leading and modeling for us the way to the Father. Jesus himself said “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” (John 14:6) Jesus’ life is an example of interceding for us to the Father.
He interceded for the bride and groom at the wedding in Cana, for Mary and Martha when he raised Lazarus, and for countless sick and suffering people through healing miracles. Because Jesus is our holy model, He is showing us that He wants us to plead to our heavenly Father on behalf of others as well. This month, we honor the great intercessors of our faith, the saints. In Evangelii Gaudium, Pope Francis highlights the graces realized from intercessory prayer.
“At the same time, it is the gratitude which flows from a heart attentive to others. When evangelizers rise from prayer, their hearts are more open; freed of self-absorption, they are desirous of doing good and sharing their lives with others.
“The great men and women of God were great intercessors. Intercession is like a “leaven” in the heart of the Trinity. It is a way of penetrating the Father’s heart and discovering new dimensions which can shed light on concrete situations and change them. We can say that God’s heart is touched by our intercession, yet in reality he is always there first. What our intercession achieves is that his power, his love and his faithfulness are shown ever more clearly in the midst of the people.” (282-283 Evangelii Gaudium)
Just as a mother prays for her children, so Mary, the mother of God and our mother too, prays for us! Just as we pray for our brothers and sisters, so the saints and angels pray and intercede for us. As we follow the model of Mary and the saints, let us also pray in thanksgiving to Jesus and to the holy men and women of God who are constantly praying, watching, guiding, pleading and thanking Him on our behalf until we are able to be with them in heaven.
(Karla Luke is the coordinator of operations and support services for the Office of Catholic Education.)
Bear crosses without bitterness
IN EXILE
By Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI
Among Jesus’ many teachings we find this, rather harsh-sounding, invitation: Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.
I suspect that each of us has a gut-sense of what this means and what it will cost us; but, I suspect too that many of us misunderstand what Jesus is asking here and struggle unhealthily with this invitation. What, concretely, does Jesus mean by this?
To answer that, I would like to lean on some insights offered by James Martin in his book, “Jesus, A Pilgrimage.” He suggests that taking up our cross daily and giving up life in order to find deeper life means six interpenetrating things:
First, it means accepting that suffering is a part of our lives. Accepting our cross and giving up our lives means that, at some point, we have to make peace with the unalterable fact that frustration, disappointment, pain, misfortune, illness, unfairness, sadness, and death are a part of our lives and they must ultimately be accepted without bitterness. As long as we nurse the notion that pain in our lives is something we need not accept, we will habitually find ourselves bitter – bitter for not having accepted the cross.
Second, taking up our cross and giving up our lives, means that we may not, in our suffering, pass on any bitterness to those around us. We have a strong inclination, almost as part of our natural instincts, to make others suffer when we are suffering. If I’m unhappy, I will make sure that others around me are unhappy too! This does not mean, as Martin points out, that we cannot share our pain with others. But there’s a healthy way of doing this, where our sharing leaves others free, as opposed to an unhealthy kind of sharing which subtly tries to make others unhappy because we are unhappy.
There’s a difference between healthily groaning under the weight of our pain and unhealthily whining in self-pity and bitterness under that weight. The cross gives us permission to do the former, but not the latter. Jesus groaned under the weight of his cross, but no self-pity, whining, or bitterness issued forth from his lips or his beaten body.
Third, walking in the footsteps of Jesus as he carries his cross means that we must accept some other deaths before our physical death, that we are invited to let some parts of ourselves die. When Jesus invites us to die in order to find life, he is not, first of all, talking about physical death. If we live in adulthood, there are a myriad of other deaths that we must undergo before we die physically.
Maturity and Christian discipleship are about perennially naming our deaths, claiming our births, mourning our losses, letting go of what’s died, and receiving new spirit for the new life that we are now living. These are the stages of the paschal mystery, and the stages of growing up. There are daily deaths.
Fourth, it means that we must wait for the resurrection, that here in this life all symphonies must remain unfinished. The book of Proverbs tells us that sometimes in the midst of pain the best we can do is put our mouths to the dust and wait. Any real understanding of the cross agrees. So much of life and discipleship is about waiting, waiting in frustration, inside injustice, inside pain, in longing, battling bitterness, as we wait for something or someone to come and change our situation. We spend about 98 percent of our lives waiting for fulfillment, in small and big ways. Jesus’ invitation to us to follow him implies waiting, accepting to live inside an unfinished symphony.
Fifth, carrying our cross daily means accepting that God’s gift to us is often not what we expect. God always answers our prayers but, often times, by giving us what we really need rather than what we think we need. The Resurrection, says James Martin, does not come when we expect it and rarely fits our notion of how a resurrection should happen. To carry your cross is to be open to surprise.
Finally, taking up your cross and being willing to give up your life means living in a faith that believes that nothing is impossible for God. As James Martin puts it, this means accepting that God is greater than the human imagination. Indeed, whenever we succumb to the notion that God cannot offer us a way out of our pain into some kind of newness, it’s precisely because we have reduced God down to the size of our own limited imagination.
It’s only possible to accept our cross, to live in trust, and to not grow bitter inside pain if we believe in possibilities beyond what we can imagine, namely, if we believe in the Resurrection. We can take up our cross when we begin to believe in the Resurrection.
(Oblate Father Ron Rolheiser, theologian, teacher and award-winning author, is President of the Oblate School of Theology in San Antonio, TX.)
