St Philip Neri (5/26/17) Apostleship of Prayer

The Don Bosco Option, Part I

Many Christians look at the situation in the world today and want to escape.  They lose heart when they see the violence, injustice and materialism of modern life. With the popular redefinition of marriage, the continued assault on the unborn in the womb and general disrespect for the sanctity of human life that’s far too common they wonder how much farther our country can move away from the Culture of Life. We see that the culture is no longer influenced by Gospel values as it once was, and wonder if it’s possible anymore to be active, engaged and faithful citizens. Some call for Christians to separate themselves, living in small, isolated communities, only engaging in public life when it’s necessary to defend religious liberty. They say that we should follow the example of St. Benedict of Nurcia, the father of Western monasticism, whose monasteries served as refuges that preserved Christian faith and culture as the Roman world was crumbling around them. Then, when the current society collapses, the Church will be ready to reemerge to put the pieces of a broken culture back together again, in the same way the Benedictine monasteries did so many centuries ago. 

There is a popular book out now called The Benedict Option by Rod Dreher, in which the author makes this kind of proposal. I want to be fair: Dreher is not some kind of Christian survivalist who thinks we should literally move to the mountains, stockpiling food and water, while we await the apocalypse. But he does feel that we need to come together as believers, living is small, intentional communities so as to preserve Christian culture amidst the shifting tides of our unstable society. He compares it to people seeking the metaphorical high ground during a severe storm, huddling together, sharing their resources, both material and spiritual, until the tempest passes and it's safe to go outside again. Then the "survivors" can emerge to sift through the wreckage to reconstruct a new Christian civilization. 

Again, he's not talking about total separation from the mainstream, but a tactical retreat from the culture, so we have space to preserve the faith and pass it on. He would limit our political involvement to more or less advocating for religious liberty, and maybe speaking out on some other issues, but that's about it. Dreher has admitted in interviews that his tone in the book is extreme, but he feels that we are in desperate times, so he needs to be a bit alarmist to get people's attention. While there is much I find good in the book, I'm not sure if I can sign on with the Benedict Option, as its presented here. Even though he goes to great pains to say that he's not advocating the complete self ghettoizing of Christians, it can come off that way. I would like to propose a different way. We can call it “The Don Bosco Option.” 

St. John Bosco (1815-1888) lived during a time of political, social and religious upheaval in Italy and Europe. The industrial revolution had finally come to the Italian peninsula, which itself was transforming from a mere geographical expression, made up of various principalities and occupied territories into an independent, unified nation. In the rest of Europe, the attempted restoration of the old order after the French Revolution and Napoleonic Wars came to an end, which saw the ultimate victory of constitutional republics over the old absolute monarchies. With these changes the temporal power of the Catholic Church, as it had been exercised and understood previously also came to an end. The newly formed Italian state was in conflict with the Church, placing strict limits on how she could function, and what social and educational services she could give. The state even prohibited the Church from founding new religious orders. It was in this anticlerical atmosphere that Don Bosco struggled to start his educative pastoral project on behalf of the young. 

In a way, Don Bosco’s oratory was a small, intentional community, where young people and those who served them lived the Gospel and preserved culture. It was an island of prayer, where youth could engage in wholesome recreations and learn a trade. They were meant to be a shelter from the increasingly secular society around them, which was losing touch with Gospel values. 

But the boys weren’t meant to live out their entire lives at the Oratory. It was there that they received a well-rounded Christian formation so that they could go out and become involved citizens. They were meant to be a leaven that transformed society, helping to form a true Christian culture. They were to go out, putting into practice the spiritual and practical lessons that they had learned so that they could change the world, a little at a time. As disciples of Christ we aren’t called to simply stay closed in on ourselves, focusing in on a small list of issues that affect us alone. We are called to be voices crying out, preparing for a “Christian Revival,” but not from behind monastery walls. While the monastic vocation is valuable, as Salesians we are called to go out engaging, with joy, the culture, always ready to give reasons for the hope that we have in Christ Jesus (1 Peter 3:15).

Don Bosco, while seeking to shield his boys from the moral dangers of the streets, and the ideological dangers of anticlerical textbooks, going as far as writing his own History of Italy for use at the Oratory, wasn't afraid to work with "the enemy." In formulating the Salesian constitutions he consulted with government officials, including the very author of some of the anticlerical laws, to see how he could formulate a rule that would pass muster with both the state, as well as the Church. 

In all this Don Bosco gives us an example to follow. A Salesian work, be it a school, a parish, a youth center, among the many types of works we run, should form intentional, Christian communities. They should be sanctuaries, where the culture of life is lived. When a student, parishioner or member enters, he or she should have a sense that they are in a different place, guided by different values than those of the world. At the same time they are being prepared to go back out into the world to engage others. They should be ready to live the faith with integrity, while being active, engaged citizens. This engagement can come with dangers and sacrifices. It's not for no reason that there are Salesian martyrs among the saints and blesseds of the Church. While there's still is a need for the Benedictine spirit, and those who embrace it, the Salesian call, and I believe the call for most Christians, is one of membership in an intentional, formative Christian community that leads us to active engagement with the world.  

More thoughts on this to come.

Bishop Barron on Pride, Humility, and Social Media

Peace, Not as the World Gives It - Reflection for Tuesday of the 5th Week of Easter

In the first reading of todays’s Mass (Acts 14:19-28), we hear about only a very few of the many hardships that Paul endured preaching the Gospel. In other places we hear that he is ship wrecked, falls victim to bandits, endures slanders and calumnies at the hands of false brothers.  Here he is stoned to the point that his would-be executioners leave him for dead. Yet he got up, with other disciples around him, and entered the city, an act of defiance in the face of determined opposition. What gave Paul the ability to get up after suffering such harsh treatment was that he possessed the peace of Christ. 

In the Gospel reading (Jn 14:27-31A) Jesus tells his disciples not to be afraid. The satanic "ruler of the world is coming," He is going away, and their faith will be shaken. It is the night before He's to die, and Jesus is trying to prepare them so that they won't falter. Of course, they do - especially Peter, but He gives them His peace so that even when they stumble and fall they may have the ability to get back up. 

But what is this peace? To start with something it's not, we can say that it isn't contentment or happiness. I doubt that Paul felt happy after being beaten within an inch of his life by men with heavy stones. I don't think Martin Luther King was feeling contented as he sat in Birmingham Jail. Both men, in a way, had been beaten down by their foes. They were defeated in the moment, but an inner peace that only Christ can give lifted them back up. In Paul's case to continue the mission of evangelization by walking defiantly back into the city of Lystra. In the case of King, he wrote his famous letter, challenging the consciences of those "moderate" religious leaders who sympathized with he cause of civil rights but felt it imprudent to act. Both men possessed the inner strength born from faith, and the right ordering of their lives in light of that faith. In those moments they were no longer living for themselves, but for Christ, and the Kingdom He came to establish. Both men possessed the peace of Christ. 

The peace of Christ isn't a protection against all anxiety, or a guarantee that we will never face obstacles. It is the peace of Christ that enables us to get up again after being beaten down. The peace of Christ is born from faith lived out consistently in our lives. When we know and live the Commandments, not out of fear but out of love, we possess the peace of Christ. In a way it is a coming together of the three great theological virtues, faith hope and love, lived in concert with one another, directing our lives toward deeper union with God.

This isn't the peace of the world. The peace of the world is built on that which is material, sensual, and willful. We too often seek happiness in consumer goods, money or property. Or else we seek some sense high or pleasure from chemical or sexual sources. Then there are those who chase after power, either in the political, corporate or ecclesiastical realm. In their proper place property, pleasure and the exercises of power aren't bad, but they don't offer lasting peace, and can corrupt the individual. Property, pleasure and power divorced from responsibility are sources of unhappiness for those caught up in their pursuit and for others around them. They can lead, in the end, to eternal perdition.

Christ is calling us to not look for lasting peace in these temporary fixes of property, pleasure and power. He gives us the example to follow. We shouldn't be afraid to carry the cross we are given. It will seem hard, even excruciating, at the time. We may feel beaten down or imprisoned emotionally or psychologically. But if we hold fast to what is true, and to Him who is Truth, this peace will carry us on from the cross, through the tomb to the everlasting glory of the resurrection.    

The Scapular by the Apostleship of Prayer

Bishop Barron on the Sacrament of Confirmation

A Leper Among Lepers - Fr. Damien by AOP

Our Lady of Fatima HD

This Saturday is the Feast of Our Lady of Fatima, which this year marks the 100th anniversary of the apparitions of Mary to the three child seers in Fatima, Portugal. I'll have more on this important feast later in the week.

Back To Rome - St. Catherine of Sienna - Apostleship of Prayer

St Louis de Montfort (4/28/17) from the Apostleship of Prayer

Bishop Barron on “The Case for Christ” // Movie Review

He Descended into Hell (4/15/17) Apostleship of Prayer

Bishop Barron on Palm Sunday

A reflection from 2012 by then Fr. Barron on Palm Sunday.

The Gospel - Matthew 27:11-54 (Palm Sunday of the Lord's Passion) From CCTNtv

The short version of today's Passion reading from Matthew's Gospel.

Lent 2017, So Far

The Fifth Sunday of Lent is a line of demarcation of sorts. I'm pretty sure I've mentioned this before somewhere, but in the pre-Missal of Paul VI days it was actually Passion Sunday, when the account of our Lord's death was proclaimed during the Gospel. The following week was Palm Sunday when we remembered Jesus' triumphant entry into Jerusalem, and everybody who came got palm leaves. The reforms of Vatican II conflated these two observances into what we have now, with the reading of the two Gospel passages, the blessing of palms, and the proclaiming of the Passion narrative in parts. 

In spite of this change, the readings, prayers and preface of the Mass used from here on in reflects the old practice. We are moving away from general admonitions to repent - encouraged to of pray, fast and give alms to help us in this ongoing project of conversion (though we should still continue them). We will now be reading of the controversies that led directly to our Savior's death. We are also asked to use the preface for the Passion of the Lord during the Mass in the last ten days before the Triduum. Some parishes and shrines still cover up their statues, according to the old practice. In these days we are asked to enter more intensely into the mystery of Jesus' suffering and death. 

I'm going to take this moment of thematic shift, then, to make a public self assessment of my Lenten observance so far. 

I once again took on the daily Holy Hour as my main Lenten penance. I don't do it every year, but I felt called to renew my efforts this time around. Not that an hour before the Lord in prayer is punishment, but the only practical time to do it is either very early in the morning or very late at night. It means an hour less sleep, which is where the sacrifice comes in. The door bell rings in this place, sometimes from 7:00 in the morning to 9 or 10 PM, in the extreme. To try to fit a Holy Hour in during some other time of the day invites the risk of being interrupted. So early morning it is.

I was faithful the first four weeks, from Ash Wednesday until the Fourth Sunday, but travel back and forth from meetings threw me off, so this week has been hit and miss. So I'm focused on making these last two weeks before Easter count.

What is different this year than in past attempts at making the Holy Hour, is that staying awake and focused has been more of a struggle. It's never easy, but most mornings I'm fighting to stay awake, with the normal 15 minute Rosary taking as much as 25 or 30 minutes: not because I'm in ecstasy but because I'm barley conscious at times. 

In the past I would face these obstacles and give up after a few days. But I have come to appreciate that these road blocks are invitations to perseverance. Rather than saying to myself, "This must be the wrong path because God wouldn't ask me do something I'm not getting anything out of," I see it as Jesus asking me: "How much do you love me? Are you only willing to spend the Hour when it's easy and seems rewarding?" He essentially asked the same of  the Apostles on Holy Thursday Night in the garden. I'm certainly not better than they, and shouldn't be surprised that I'm subject to the same weakness.

My failure this time around wasn't so much out of discouragement, but an inability to adapt to a change of schedule, and then I didn't take advantage of opportunities during the day I did have to make the Hour up. It still would have been difficult, if not exactly impossible to have gotten the Hour in on my "travel day," but the other misses were clearly on me.

The other thing I've noticed is that, while I still experience the same sense of calm and emotional equilibrium I always do when I keep the Holy Hour, I'm also becoming more aware of my short comings. I see more clearly how I'm deficient as a Christian, a Salesian and as a pastor of souls. I feel the Lord calling me live the commitments of my life more faithfully, and offer my sufferings in reparation for my sins and those of others. I don't feel condemnation, but encouragement in the midst of that holy unease the Lord sometimes plants in our souls to keep us from getting complacent. 

So, to sum up, if you're finding your Lenten penance difficult or even unrewarding: good. What ever we do should be challenging, and we should only expect the reward further down the road. If you faltered at some point, don't give up. Take some time, but not too much (over thinking things can be as bad as not thinking at all), to figure out why - then get back to it. If you prayed over your penance ahead of time or, better yet, worked it out with a spiritual director assume it's from God and keep on moving. God knows we're probably going to fall, but He doesn't want us to stay down. 

So, two weeks from today we celebrate Easter Sunday. May all of us make a good finish of Lent, spent a holy Triduum, and be ready to rejoice at the celebration of our Lord's Resurrection.  

Christ's Call to "Renew My Church"

In a pivotal scene from the 2000 historical drama 13 Days, which chronicles the behind the scenes maneuverings during the Cuban Missile Crisis, it's been discovered that a Russian cargo ship has slipped passed the United States Navy's blockade of Cuba. In the War Room the Secretary of Defense, Robert McNamara, is overseeing what is officially being called a quarantine, keeping his eyes on the admirals and generals, who he and President Kennedy suspect are itching for an excuse to start a shooting war with the Soviet Union. When he overhears an admiral give the order to fire upon the ship, he quickly intervenes and a shouting match erupts between the two. The officer informs McNamara that they were firing warning flairs, not shells. It's implied that the Secretary is in over his head and should leave them alone to do their job - the Navy has been running blockades since the days of John Paul Jones, proclaims the frustrated admiral.

McNamara informs the admiral that it is he who is out of his depth, not seeing that President Kennedy is actually engaging in an entirely new form of military diplomacy designed to avoid war while protecting American interests. He says, as he points up to the big board tracking the ships:

"This is not a blockade. This is language. A new vocabulary, the likes of which the world has never seen! This is President Kennedy communicating with Secretary Khrushchev!"

I was reminded of this scene recently when I attended a day of reflection and prayer for parish staffs and volunteers here in Chicago (Cicero, to be exact). Cardinal Blase Cupich has begun an initiative of reorganizing the parishes of the Archdiocese which is called Renew My Church. The symbol of the initiative is the San Damiano Cross, in front of which St. Francis prayed, and from which Jesus spoke to him, telling the Saint to "Rebuild my Church." The Church in Chicago doesn't need to be rebuild, but like the Christian community of all times and places, we need to be renewed in the Spirit so as to be more effective evangelizers for today. We are at "Phase Zero," at this point of the initiative, as the facilitators put it. We are to get together with the other parishes in our groupings, get to know each other, and maybe engage in what is being called "soft collaboration": maybe holding joint processions or social out reach programs before the formal implementation of the groupings over the next several years. These moments of reflection were opportunities for the members of the various parishes to come together and begin the process.

I was reminded of this little episode from the movie, not because there were any dramatic confrontations at the two sessions I attended, far from it. But that at times I felt that the questions being asked from the floor, while reasonable, were missing the point. Participants were asking what plans the Archdiocese had for things like ecumenical outreach, vocation recruitment and bringing fallen away Catholics, especially young people, back to the Church. Again, all valid concerns. But Renew My Church is not a pastoral plan in the traditional sense, where the orders come down from the Pastoral Center to the parishes, and it's up to each place to check off a list of predetermined tasks. It very much is a new language, spoken with the vocabulary of subsidiarity and shared responsibility. The question isn't what is the Cardinal is going to do, or what plan does the Archdiocese have, but rather how are our parishes, working in concert as opposed to isolation, going to address the challenges faced in their neighborhoods and towns.

This doesn't mean that the Pastoral Center doesn't play a vital role in the life of our local church. Cardinal Cupich has already begun reorganizing the the bureaucracy of the Archdiocese, streamlining the central offices while putting more staff into the vicariates, to help the parishes where they live. In many ways he is following Pope Francis' lead of decentralization. The Cardinal, like the Pope, gives us the big picture scenario, but it will be pastors, their councils, volunteers and parish groups who will see, judge and act according to the needs on the ground. 

Cardinal Cupich is well aware that there is a crisis in both vocations and young people leaving the fold. He is personally involved with ecumenical efforts, especially with the Islamic community. But who knows your parish community better than you? Who knows your children better than you? Who knows the ecumenical landscape in your area better than you? At the same time, we may know that something is wrong, but don't know how to address the issues. Or, we have been doing things the same way for so long that we really don't see what's going on beyond the church parking lot, or that it has anything to do with us. This is where the Archdiocese, under the Cardinal's leadership, can assist the local parish groups to formulate and execute a plan to fit their situation. 

This won't be a quick or painless process. People are worried about the future of their parishes, and that's understandable. One person Tuesday night asked where the money from any potential parish land sales would go, and even though he was reassured that any proceeds from real estate deals stay with the local community, I don't think the questioner believed it. But again, while an understandable question, it still misses the point. The purpose of the groupings isn't to close and merge parishes. That may be a byproduct of Renew My Church, but it's not the goal. The goal is to get parishes working together, sharing pastoral resources, working to their strengths. A parish that has a strong religious education program can pick up the slack for ones that may be weaker in that area. Another with a developed social outreach initiative can take the lead for the group with that. It will mean forming intentional disciples of Jesus Christ, who have a real friendship with Him, and are dedicated to leading others into relationship with the Savior. 

Renew My Church will only succeed in the long run if we all have a change of mentality, and this will not be easy. Bishops and pastors needs to take a good part of the blame if the faithful find it hard to trust. For too long bishops and pastors have been positioned as regional executives and middle managers in what George Weigel calls "Catholic Church, Ink," with he pope as CEO. Clerics became seen as professionals instead of ministers of the Word and Sacraments.  The perception still is that pastors are always asking for money, and leading fundraising efforts rather than serving as spiritual guides. Pope Francis is trying to break that image, getting back to the model of bishops and pastors as fathers and teachers of the Faith, first and foremost. This is the Scriptural and patristic image of the bishop, as well as the vision Vatican II called the Church to recapture. The role of administrator of the goods of the Church will always be an important part of what bishops do (it's in the Bible too), but the first job is to guide the flock with a shepherd's care, binding the spiritually wounded, calling back to stray, building bridges to the world. They are the first animators in that mission to make disciples and lead people into friendship with Christ. 

This is what Cardinal Cupich is proposing. It's the vision of Pope Francis translated to the reality of Chicago. It's the vision of the Church as an evangelizing force on mission, not an institution to be maintained, with the parish and new groupings serving as the launching pads. It's an ambitious program, but one that can be implemented with openness to the Spirit, who wants to teach us a new language with a vocabulary that speaks of intentional disciples in deep friendship with Jesus, on fire with sharing the Good News of salvation. 

St. Patrick: Virtue of Temperance (3/17/17) from the Apostleship of Prayer

Between the Desert and the Mountain Top

The First and Second Sundays of Lent offer us contrasts in style and substance. This past Sunday we heard from the Gospel according to Matthew about Jesus in the desert being tempted by Satan. Jesus is weak and vulnerable after 40 days of fasting. The devil tries to appeal to His desire for physical sustenance, as well as higher aspirations for power and prestige. All these temptations were meant to distract Jesus from His mission, derailing it before it even started.

This Sunday coming up we will hear from the same Evangelist about the Transfiguration. Far from presenting us with the seemingly powerless man in barren places, just keeping it together in the face of trials, we see Jesus the Christ, the Son of the living God. He is manifested in Glory, as He will be known in the Resurrection. The three Apostle witnesses, Peter, James and John see Jesus in a dazzling vision, with Moses and Elijah by His side. Moses represents the Law, Elijah the prophets: together they represent the Old Testament that foretold the coming Messiah. This vision, powerful but short lived, is meant to give these three pivotal disciples hope, a memory they can latch on to when the horror of the Passion unfolds, and they are themselves tempted to lose hope.

In many ways we live between these two realities in the Christian life. We may not always be in the desert, thirsty and hungry for God's presence, rather we may find that most of life is pretty mundane. We got to school or work, maybe we are retired. We have our routines that eventually become ruts. We go to Mass on Sunday, maybe try to pray the rosary daily or read the Scriptures or a holy book. We may be tempted to wonder if these practises of piety are really useful because we don't feel anything. There can be extreme moments of crisis in our lives: the death of a loved one, losing a job, suffering a serious illness, where we really do feel alone and abandoned. 

On the other hand maybe we have been on retreat, or went to some type of charismatic prayer service, or had some other peak moment of prayer. We felt the presence of the Lord very clearly. Maybe we came back to the Faith after having fallen away, and feel the Lord directing us, drawing us in to His embrace. We have had that Transfiguration moment that changed our lives. Then we get discouraged because that feeling doesn't last. 

The danger I'm thinking of here isn't so much that we'll want to "stay on the mountain," as Peter suggested (though that is a possibility), but rather that we may go chasing after experiences to keep the spiritual high going. Jesus call us to Faith, which St. Paul tells us works through love (Gal. 5:6). Faith isn't a feeling, but a gift that animates how we live. It guides our actions. It is a supernatural virtue that expresses itself through the actions of our lives. It is a habit that itself forms in us the other supernatural virtue of charity. In truth, the two things go together, for as the letter of James tells us, faith without charity (good works) is dead (2:17). This type of faith is only true when it transcends the feelings of a particular moment. Faith is meant to be manifested in how we treat others when we feel like doing the right thing, and more importantly, when we don't. 

What do I mean by chasing after experiences to keep the spiritual high going?  It could be filling our weekends with retreat after retreat or charismatic prayer services. These are certainly not bad, but if we are under the impression that the faith is only alive in us when we feel it, or are experiencing a spiritual high, then we aren't really following the Lord out of love, but out of emotional need. In a way we are trying to "stay on the mountain," rather than taking those special moments of insight as inspiration and hope. 

The devil uses this chasing after the spiritual high to tempt us, as well. Many people come to me distressed that they don't feel consolation in prayer, especially in charismatic prayer. They hear others talking about how the Spirit is alive in their heart, and how Jesus speaks to them. Those who haven't had these experiences wonder what the problem is. They begin to think that their faith isn't real, or worse that their is something wrong with them that God is punishing them somehow. These seeds of doubt are planted by the enemy so that the weeds of despair may grow. 

I don't mean to be picking on charismatics. We have a very active charismatic group in our parish, with many of its members numbered among the leaders of the broader community. But there is a danger when we put too much of a stress on feelings in the Christian life. We can equate consolations and emotional states of mind with faith. As Archbishop Sheen might have put it, faith isn't tested in the short spiritual highs but in the long pull of living our life in Christ over the decades.

Another example of chasing after a spiritual high involves becoming preoccupied with Marian apparitions. Again, I'm not a skeptic. I've made pilgrimages to both Guadalupe and Lourdes, and have Fatima high up on my bucket list. Both visits represented profound, dare I say life changing events for me. But in the end I had to go home and live the devotion that was enkindled in those sacred shrines. Those moments of connection with the Mother of God were meant to spur me to greater union with her Son by imitating the virtues that made her the first disciple. 

It was tempting to want to stay and gaze at the mysterious image she left us at Tepeyac: contemplating her posture, and all the prophetic power contained therein. I would have loved to have just stayed in the Grotto by the River Gave, touching the wet rock while remaining dry, just below where our Lady stood, caught up in the natural beauty of the Pyrenees that lift the mind and heart to God. In both cases how wonderful it would have been to just build a spiritual tent, staying hidden, just Our Lady and me. But that's not the point of those apparitions. There is a reason our Lady only appears for a limited time in any of her apparition sites. She doesn't call us to come and stay. She asks us to come and pray, be recharged - renewed, and then to go back home to follow Jesus more closely. She calls us to change our lives, repenting of our sins. She calls us to be peace makers. She asks us to imitate her who, when she received the angel’s message consented, taking the Son of God into her body and her heart. She then immediately went out and served her cousins Elizabeth.

We need those moments on the mountain top, gazing at a miracle imprinted on a tilma, or in a quiet grotto caught up in prayer, as long as we remember that they only last a moment. They are meant to live on in our heart, reminding us of the greater glory God has in mind for us. The sad truth is that most of our discipleship is spent in a desert of drudgery. It's changing diapers and cleaning the toilet. It's filling out reports and filing paperwork. It's doing our homework and feeding the dog. It's doing the million little trifles we are board by, but when they're done for love these small acts make us saints.

We live between the desert and the mountain top. Most of our lives on planet Earth don't reach either extreme of desolation or exaltation, but is lived somewhere in the muddled middle. May the highs encourage us, strengthen us, give us courage for when the bad times come. May they also get us through the ordinary monotonies which can seem just as unbearable. Most of all, we need to perceiver in prayer and charity, with God's grace, when we feel the high, but especially when we don't, for it's in those moments Christ makes us saints.

St. John Bosco Bulletin Letter - 1st Sunday of Lent 2017

This letter will appear in the Sunday, March 5 St. John Bosco Parish Sunday Bulletin 

During Lent we are asked to pray, fast and give alms. These are spiritual weapons we are given to help us focus less on ourselves and more on our relationships with God, material things and, others. Prayer unites us to God, fasting teaches us that when we worry less about what we eat or what we wear or what we possess we have more spiritual energy to grow closer to the Lord and look after the needs of others.  Alms giving teaches us to grow in charity and in the sense that the things we have are gifts that are meant to be shared for the good of our neighbor and the Glory of God.

The prophets tell us though that we need to be careful. We can get so caught up in the letter of the law that we forget what the law means. We are, for instance, asked to give up meat on Fridays. While we should be careful not to eat meat on those days, we must remember the spirit in which we give these things up. We are asked not only to abstain from beef, chicken and pork, but to eat more simply.  With the money we save we are asked to give more to the poor, who are the presence of Jesus among us. In this way, prayer, fasting and almsgiving work together to purify our hearts and make us more Christ like. 

The Prophets also tell us that the sacrifice God wants more than anything else is a heart that is poor, contrite and seeks justice.  At the parish we have begun the Carridades de Cristo Recucitado ministry that over sees the food pantry and brings food and other essential materials, like cloths and heaters, to the homeless of our area. We have also restarted our Pastoral Migratoria ministry, and will be hosting events on March 19 – sponsored by the Archdiocese, and March 23 - in cooperation with the Mexican Consulate, to help pass on information regarding immigrant rights as well as offer an opportunity for people to share their worries, hopes and experiences. 

May these traditional Lenten practices of prayer, fasting and almsgiving help us to grow closer to Jesus. May they purify our hearts that we may serve Him in our brothers and sisters in need. 

An Ash Wednesday Reflection from the Apostleship of Prayer