“It is very important to listen to the voice of the Lord, to listen to it, in this dialogue, and to see where the Lord is calling us.”
~Pope Leo XIV (homily of 5/11/25)
An ordinary man engages the circumstances of daily life, seeking to draw closer to the Mystery who gives meaning to everything.
“It is very important to listen to the voice of the Lord, to listen to it, in this dialogue, and to see where the Lord is calling us.”
~Pope Leo XIV (homily of 5/11/25)
Mother's Day has just ended, but I can still squeeze in a few words in the minutes past midnight.
I miss my Mom on Mother's Day. This picture is from Spring 1963, with baby me and big brother Walter. Our Mom is 24 years old in this picture (younger than two of my own daughters today). Dad is 28 (my son turns 28 next month). This is the fourth Mother's Day since Mom passed away. I often miss her, yet she seems "not far from us." I pray for her and my Dad, that God will receive them into His embrace of Infinite Love forever. This is the fulfillment for which they were created.
Jesus has conquered death through His Cross and Resurrection, but this was not to eliminate sorrow and grief from the human journey; rather, the hope of eternal life gives ultimate meaning and value to sorrow and grief and the whole range of human experience. Our pain and struggles with the mystery of life and death have a value that makes us willing to endure them when we remember in faith that suffering and loss are not "the last word" on human existence. Christ is Risen, Alleluia! God works everything towards the good, and God loves us immensely. He is worthy of our trust, day by day, step by step.
Happy Mother's Day, Mom. I love you!
"An indispensable commitment for all those in the Church who exercise a ministry of authority... is to move aside so that Christ may remain, to make oneself small so that he may be known and glorified, to spend oneself to the utmost so that all may have the opportunity to know and love him" (Pope Leo XIV).
Remembering Christina Grimmie after eight years and eleven months. She continues to encourage us not to be afraid, not to worry.💚
We have a Pope!
White smoke emerged from the chimney yesterday evening, and an hour later came the announcement that Cardinal Robert Francis Prevost had been chosen by his brother Cardinals to be the 267th Pope, taking the name "Leo XIV." He was born in 1955 in Chicago, making him the first Pope from the United States of America. But he also spent many years in Latin America as a bishop in Peru, and became a naturalized Peruvian citizen. The people of Peru have long regarded him as "one of their own."
Now he belongs to the whole world.
Dear Lord, bless and sustain our new Pope Leo XIV in his ministry as Bishop of Rome, Successor of Saint Peter, Servant of the Servants of God.
As we continue to pray for the Cardinals gathered in the conclave in Rome to elect a new Pope, the readings from the third week of the Easter Season give us God's Word to enlighten us, and for us to ponder, to shape our prayer, to lead us to worship Him who has given Himself totally, who reveals the mystery of the God who is Infinite Love.
To contemplate the mystery of the Eucharist (as we do in these days, in the Gospel readings from the sixth chapter of John) is to be full of wonder and gratitude for the gift of God the Father who sends His Only-Begotten Son to save the world (John 3:16), to draw us to share in the eternal life of the Trinity. Jesus gives Himself — His "flesh," His body and blood poured out for us — to nourish the new life of His people whom He unites to Himself in the Holy Spirit. Jesus in the Eucharist builds up His Mystical Body, the Church. Through His gift we encounter the singular, astonishing love that God has for us, and we are sent forth with the Risen Christ to share His mission, to witness to God's inexhaustible love, to be "instruments" of His love in the lives of those who are entrusted to us each day as we live out our vocation in this world.
This is the life of the Church for which we pray, as she is called to take a new step in her pilgrimage through history toward the fulfillment of the God's Kingdom, where God will "be all, in all" (1 Corinthians 15:28). This is the "new reality" present in the midst of the realities (and the illusions) of this age. As the Church lives these intense and decisive days, we remember that we are "members of one another" (Romans 12:5), and the Cardinals are our brothers. We express this mysterious unity in our solidarity with them in prayer. May they receive an abundant outpouring of the Holy Spirit, to fill them and sustain them in wisdom so that they might elect a Pope who will remind us that we are one in Christ — united in truth and love, in Baptism and the Eucharist, in adoration of the Lord and in gratitude for making us His sons and daughters in Jesus. We beg God our Father through Jesus Christ our Savior in the Holy Spirit to work in us and through us the "continuation" of His gift of redemption for the whole world, drawing the heart of every human person through His Church.
We are a poor Church that depends entirely on our adherence to Jesus Christ, and a grateful Church sustained by the "bread of life," by the gift of "[His] Flesh for the life of the world."
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Jesus said to the crowds: "No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draw him, and I will raise him on the last day. It is written in the prophets: 'They shall all be taught by God.' [See e.g. Isaiah 54:13; Jeremiah 31:33-34.] Everyone who listens to my Father and learns from him comes to me.
"Not that anyone has seen the Father except the one who is from God; he has seen the Father.
"Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever believes has eternal life. I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate the manna in the desert, but they died; this is the bread that comes down from heaven so that one may eat it and not die.
"I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my Flesh for the life of the world."
~John 6:44-51
Wednesday, May 7 is the beginning of the Conclave in the Sistine Chapel, where 132 Cardinals from every inhabited continent on earth will gather to elect a Pope to succeed the late Pope Francis as leader of a Catholic Church that counts some 1.4 billion members.
This blog "covered" the last Conclave back in 2013. It was remarkable for many of us for the unprecedented (virtual) access we had to the ceremonies via livestream leading right up to the Cardinals entering through the doors of the Chapel, which were then closed and locked beyond the reach of all media technology. The livestream switched to the "chimney camera" so that we could see right away the color of the smoke when the four daily ballots were burned. Once the white smoke came, we saw it pour from the chimney in real time.
Then the "feed" switched to the balcony over Saint Peter's Square where great crowds of Romans gathered to wait for the new Pope to be announced and presented, and to give his first blessing. It was a long and suspenseful period of time that passed before we were introduced to a 76-year-old Argentine named Jorge Mario Bergoglio, who took the name "Francis."
The next 12 years of his papacy were beautiful, surprising, and challenging in ways we never could have expected.
Now the time has come, once again.
The world is very different than it was a dozen years ago. The ceremonies will be livestreamed from the cell phone in your pocket to the widest "smart TV" on your wall. Like in 2013, we Catholics will have the chance to be joined in prayer and solidarity all over the world, in support of the Cardinals as they carry out their sacred office, and in welcoming the new Successor of Saint Peter.
I'm not sure I'm going to watch every moment of the events on streamimg video. (I will at least check the smoke.) I have no expectations or analysis regarding who among the Cardinals right now is this "man-who-will-be-Pope." His responsibilities will be immense, the media scrutiny relentless, but the graces of the Holy Spirit superabundant for him to carry out God's will for the good of the whole Church and the world.
The way we can best be attentive to the process that is beginning is to pray for the Cardinals, that they will choose someone filled with wisdom, truth, charity, and humility to lead the Church in the worship of God, and guide us in adhering to Christ in whatever trials might await us in times to come. He will need to confirm us in our faith, inspire us to be courageous in our witness, and be an example to us of the ardent love through which the Sacred Heart of Jesus wants to love this poor world and every human person living in it.
The last time these two met in person, things — to put it mildly — did not go well. But last week, after they both attended the funeral of Pope Francis, Donald Trump and Volodymyr Zelinskyy had an intense impromptu meeting in the back of Saint Peter's Basilica. The U.S. President's hostility, it seems, has turned around (at least for now), and the United States and Ukraine have since signed an economic cooperation agreement which is somewhat more vigorous in its affirmation of Ukraine's sovereignty.
It's a miracle?
Probably not, but it may be a step toward the peace that Pope Francis so ardently prayed for to his last breath. His perseverance in prayer and sacrifice for "Martyred Ukraine" will bear fruit. We all must continue to pray for an end to Russia's war of aggression against Ukraine, and for a just and lasting peace which respects Ukrainian sovereignty and allows Ukraine to flourish.
And we must continue to pray for the eternal rest of our beloved Francis, and for the approaching conclave that will elect his successor.
May 2 is the feast of the crucially important fourth century Church Father Saint Athanasius of Alexandria. The text that follows is an excerpt from my 2003 book The Created Person and the Mystery of God, which - if I had actually had an "academic career" - would have been regarded as "one of his early works" (I was 40 years old when it was published😉). It has much in it that I would have liked to have developed in greater depth, but my path "moved in a different direction" due to illness and disability, which is a familiar story for anyone who reads this blog.
The "historical section" of this book contains concise vignettes of some of the Church Fathers, and follows a style that is similar to my monthly articles in Magnificat (which I have been writing since 2013). If God wills, I may yet return to working on a "more mature" scholarly project bringing together the various themes and methodological approaches that I sketched out in this book nearly a quarter of a century ago. The intellectual realm of historical studies within the context of philosophical and theological anthropology (i.e. this multifaceted approach to "the created person and the mystery of God") is still the inspiration for my studies and what writing I have been able to do. My experience and my thinking have grown much since the days of this book, and circumstances have opened new doors and indicated larger vistas that would require several volumes to bring together in a formal academic study.
If someone gave me a very large financial grant (enough to keep my wife and I going for the rest of our lives) and if they were very patient, a project like this might be possible. I am certain that no form of "AI" will ever be able to do it (perhaps it could assist in some tasks, like finding sources).
Who knows what might happen? May the Lord lead me, empower me, and show me the way. We live in a time of epochal change. I think right now of some poor archbishop who might be a bit older than me, taking a coffee in Roman coffee bar, looking forward to what he hopes will be a short bit of ecclesiastical "business" so that he can get back home; he has no idea whatsoever that in a few weeks he will be the Pope!
But, speaking of epochal change, I am supposed to be introducing Saint Athanasius here. Let us therefore proceed to text which looks at a great figure who endured many "changes" but persevered through them all in his defense of the Divinity of Jesus Christ:
Less than five years after Constantine’s declaratiom of religious freedom in 313 a.d., the Church was plunged headlong into a new type of crisis. A popular, talented, and politically astute priest in Alexandria named Arius had developed a theory about the Trinity. Up until this time, most attempts by Christian thinkers to shed light on the unity and distinctness of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit had been provisional at best. For Arius, classical Catholic accounts of the Trinity were dissatisfying and ambiguous and seemed to involve the Church in irrational and contradictory affirmations about God. He proposed a simple solution, logically coherent, easy to understand, and—at first glance—seemingly consistent with the language of the New Testament.
Arius taught that the One Eternal God is the radically Unoriginate One in every respect. This meant that God is solely unoriginate "in Person" (this, in any case, is what his approach to the Trinity inescapable implied). It follows, that the Logos, the Word, is "God's" first and greatest creature. The Word is a reflection of the Divine Being, so perfect that he is called “Son” and God is his “Father” in a unique manner. Nevertheless, he is a creature. According to a famous slogan of Arius which he even set to music, “there was a time when he was not.” This first creature fashioned everything else in turn; therefore he is called “god” in relation to the rest of creation; however he is not divine by nature. The Holy Spirit, too, is a creature, the first and greatest creature of the Word who is himself the divine-like creature of God the Father.
What Arius proposed was ingenious and remarkable. It appeared to be nothing less than a translation into Christian terms of the “Divine Triad” of Neoplatonism, in which Universal Intelligence and Universal Soul were inferior reflections emanating from the Transcendent One and bringing forth the spiritual and material world in turn. It seemed as though Arius had reconciled Catholic faith and philosophical wisdom, giving a rationally satisfying explanation of the Trinity.
In fact, however, Arius had deconstructed the mystery of the Trinity, and he stubbornly refused all correction on the matter of what became known as the "great heresy" that bears his name. His theory was condemned at the Council of Nicaea in 325, wherein the Only Son of the Father was proclaimed God from God, Light from Light, True God from True God, begotten not made, consubstantial with the Father. After this Council, however, the Arian party succeeded in gaining imperial favor by means of deception and intrigue. Enormous political pressure was brought to bear against orthodox bishops by Constantine’s successors, and imperially sponsored synods tried to construct and then impose compromise Trinitarian formulations that secretly favored the Arian position.
In the center of this storm was the singular figure of Saint Athanasius, the great bishop of Alexandria and fearless defender of Trinitarian orthodoxy. Athanasius was exiled from his see no less than five times during his tumultuous career, because he stubbornly opposed any and every politically engineered compromise with the Arian position.
Modern secular historians may often wonder why Athanasius was so passionate and so persistent about what might seem to be an abstract theological point. Yet we can appreciate the energy of his zeal if we realize that he perceived the deep connection between the mystery of the Trinity and the mystery of the Incarnation and Redemption. Athanasius’s conviction about the Trinity was inseparable from his conviction about the Christian event and its significance for the life of man. Through the incarnation and redemption, God has made it possible for us to share in His very life. Our union with the Word made flesh gives us a participation in the Divine life. This is the great patristic teaching on deification (“theosis”): God became man so that men might become “gods”—that is, adopted sons of the Father. Athanasius perceived the radical implications of Arius’s theories: if the one who became incarnate in the womb of the Virgin Mary was not fully Divine, how could he possibly give us a participation in the Divine life? In the Arian system, the magnificent destiny of the Christian man comes crashing to the ground. The one who walked the earth, who became our friend, who gave us his flesh to eat and his blood to drink, was merely another creature like us. God has not shown us His face nor invited us into his friendship. He remains a stranger to us. Thus Athanasius declares: “the Son of God became Son of Man, so that the sons of man, that is, of Adam, might become sons of God. The Word begotten of the Father from on high, inexpressibly, inexplicably, incomprehensibly and eternally, is He that is born in time here below, of the Virgin Mary, the Mother of God, so that those who are in the first place born here below might have a second birth from on high, that is, of God.”
Moreover, if the Holy Spirit is not fully God, how can he possibly transform us into the likeness of God? “If the Holy Spirit were a creature, there could be no communion of God with us through Him. On the contrary, we would be joined to a creature, and we would be foreign to the divine nature, as having nothing in common with it…If by participation in the Spirit we are made partakers in the divine nature…it cannot be doubted that His is the nature of God.”
Thus for Athanasius, the full co-eternal divinity of the Word and the Holy Spirit was not only a truth about the mystery of God; it was also a matter of life or death for man—it was a truth decisive for the human vocation. Only the Divine Word made flesh divinizes His brothers in the flesh. If Christ is anything less than God, then the gates of heaven are closed and man is still in exile from his eternal home. The comfortable rationalism of Arius, in the end, robbed Christianity of its very heart.
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First Council of Nicaea, 325 - from an ancient fresco in present day Turkiye. |
"Almost-May" flowers and green are coming with their splendid show. The freshness of Spring!🌷🍃🌱
Even greater, the joy of Easter that remains in this season. Christ is Risen from the dead, and the foretaste of joy remains with us, carries us, renews its promise to us even in this strange year of 2025 that is so full of sorrows and concerns and trials — in our personal lives, in our society, in our world burdened by the distortion of sin that breeds so much injustice and violence, where war rages in many places and casts its looming shadow of horror over all of us.
The Church rejoices in this Easter Season and “mourns” the passing of our beloved Pope Francis, sorry to be deprived of his physical presence but also astonished by his final days so luminous with deeds and words of mercy. Next month the Cardinals will elect a new Pope. There is no point in worrying about things beyond our power. We must pray from the heart for the Church, the world, and all our needs, and entrust everything to Jesus Christ our Lord.
The wonderful Caterina Benincasa, born into that wild, corrupt, belligerent fourteenth century Italian city-state called Sienna, has her feast day April 29th.
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Tomb of Saint Catherine in Rome |
She spoke fearlessly to those in power, to the wealthy, the clergy, to anyone who would listen. She moved the hearts of popes, brought reconciliation to warring factions, served the poor and the sick, and left testimony to her experiences of the mysterious embrace of Christ the Bridegroom of her soul. His love burned through her and made her 33 years of life an unforgettable fire whose embers still glow, warming us and giving us hope even today.
She was a vital presence for me when I lived in Rome, from her repose under the main altar at Santa Maria Sopra Minerva and out into the church piazza, into the streets, into the air. Catherine, from Sienna, from the Tuscan hills she came to be the friend of the bishop and the people of Rome for nearly 700 years.
She held the fires of divine love in her heart and in her hands, and helped us to draw near to Him, this humble woman, this familiar friend, who still looks after me even when I forget to ask her. She knows the “mad hope” that cries out to God from my own heart. She knows my long and often obscure journey of hope, the journey of my life, of my vocation. She reminds me of the Light and Love of the One who draws me to my destiny.
It is a joy to encounter Saint Catherine of Sienna in the liturgy during this Easter Season, the continuing celebration of the Resurrection of Jesus who transformed her whole existence. She witnesses to the Risen Jesus who is working through the Holy Spirit to change us, and who invites every person to the embrace of the Mystery who has created them to share in His infinite fulfillment, His glory which is the Happiness that every heart desires.
~Saint Catherine of Siena
“For the sake of His sorrowful Passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world.” Jesus, I trust in You!
I don’t yet know how to “say goodbye” to Pope Francis (to his presence in this world). I find in this time of mourning that follows for nine days after his burial an intensely personal space for my own grief. On some level, I feel once again an “orphan” even as I struggle with being “reborn” in the elder years of my life and my vocation. Yet the sense of “loss” is simultaneously full of gratitude for the fulfillment of his life and ministry, and expectation that his witness will continue to bear fruit in the Church and the world — and in my own life — as God’s great design for all of creation continues to unfold through Jesus Christ in the grace of the Holy Spirit.
Though I have no new words in these days, I think the tribute I wrote two years ago — on the occasion of the tenth anniversary of his papacy — could be reproduced here with a few changes in style that indicate his mission is now completed. Now is the time to pray that God grant him the eternal reward of his labors, but also to thank the Lord and to thank Pope Francis for accompanying us during this stretch of our journey toward our destiny in the fullness of Christ Risen and Glorified. Thus, I shall adapt the words I wrote two years ago into a conclusive (though inadequate) effort to express my thanks, and the joy that has been born and continues to grow in my soul:
Dear Pope Francis, thank you for the twelve years of fidelity to the office to which God called you — to be Bishop of Rome, Successor of Saint Peter, Servant of the Servants of God, and a shepherd and father to us all.
You reminded us every day of the loving presence of Jesus in our lives, and challenged us to share the joy of the Gospel with the whole world, to live with responsibility and gratitude for the beauty and value of all of God’s creation, and to cherish and support the irreplaceable, lifelong mutual love of husbands and wives as the essential foundation of family life. You encouraged young people and—by word and example—taught us how to embrace growing old, and the mysterious value of the sufferings that we are called to endure. You emphasized the special human gift of dialogue and mutual enrichment in the relationship of grandparents and grandchildren, of the elderly with the younger generations. This interaction is an important part of God’s providence: in this way life and history are informed by the union of wisdom and innocence, by experience of the past and hope for the future.
You always emphasized the special love of Jesus for the poor, the forgotten, the marginalized. Attention to their material needs (including their very real need for justice, mercy, and equity) is not motivated by utopian schemes but by fidelity to Jesus who calls us to recognize him and serve him concretely in the poor: “I was hungry and you gave me food… I was sick and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me… I was a stranger and you welcomed me.” You exhorted us to work in the ways we can to build a more just, loving, fraternal society — to foster the “revolution of tenderness” that Jesus is working even in the midst of this temporal world, as the glowing light of his glory on the horizon of earthly life that has already begun to illuminate everything, as the foretaste of eternal life that sustains us on our historical journey with the promise of fulfillment. It is worthwhile, therefore, to glorify God through works of mercy, and even to work for the “civilization of love” (Saint Paul VI), the social vitality of Christ’s saving love that “already”—even NOW—embraces the whole human person and every aspect of human life.
We are called to adore, worship, and live in gratitude and joy as children of God our Father, and to serve Jesus our brother in one another and especially in the poor, the abandoned, the lonely—because it is particularly through them that Jesus cries out to us and yearns for our love. God loves everyone, which means that his Catholic Christian disciples cannot rest in any form of self-satisfaction, but must always seek the face of Christ who has united himself to the fulfillment — the destiny — of every person.
In these past twelve years this was the wisdom — the heart and soul — of your Petrine ministry. What you proposed to us is often difficult, but it is the way of the Gospel, the truth we need to hear, the guidance and correction of a merciful father who is called to help us mature in Christ. It requires us to face our own weakness and incoherence, which humbles us. But it is good for us to be humble. Your Papacy was an ongoing work of Christian love and service for which I am truly grateful.
Thank you, Pope Francis, for being a “father” to me in Christ in these past twelve years. You consoled me, instructed me, provoked me to look more deeply at things I thought I already knew, helped me to be patient while living in the midst of an often-confusing and sometimes-terrifying society—to listen to the Holy Spirit and follow Jesus, to resist temptations to resentment, wounded vanity, grudges, gossip, or forgetting Christ’s lordship over history and trusting instead worldly ideologies that promise easy security (and revenge) if I am willing to sell my soul.
I am so grateful for your paternal solicitude by word and example that has been a light for me during a period filled with pain in my own life, unstable health, much sorrow and grief, so many changes in the passage of time, and — of course — many surprising and profound joys too. (The older I get, the more I find that sorrow and joy often come together in circumstances and events, because they are so full of the Mystery to whom they point, of whom they speak—the fulfillment that has already begun, and that hastens us onward.)
Dear Pope Francis, in your ministry you accompanied me and encouraged me in so many ways, through so many words and gestures. I prayed for you as you bore the enormous sufferings that weigh upon individuals and peoples in the Church and in the world, I will continue to pray for you, that the Father will soon bring you into the fullness of His beatifying presence, through His Son Jesus in the communion of the Holy Spirit.
He preached the Gospel until his final day, which was the celebration of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ. Pope Francis spoke and lived and, finally, died as a pastor and a witness to the love and mercy of God. Right to the end, with his last breaths, he gave us hope.
Pope Francis was called home to the Father’s House this morning at 7:35 AM Rome time. After a beautiful Easter Sunday, in which he was able to visit the faithful in Saint Peter’s Square and give the traditional “Urbi et Orbi” blessing, Francis surrendered his soul to the embrace of God’s mercy on the morning of Easter Monday. May the Lord grant him eternal rest and an abundant reward for his faithfulness and all his labors.
“The light of the Resurrection illumines our path one step at a time; quietly, it breaks through the darkness of history and shines in our hearts, calling for the response of a humble faith, devoid of all triumphalism. The Lord’s passage from death to life is not a spectacular event by which God shows his power and compels us to believe in him. For Jesus, it was not the end of an easy journey that bypassed Calvary. Nor should we experience it as such, casually and unthinkingly. On the contrary, the Resurrection is like little seeds of light that slowly and silently come to take root in our hearts, at times still prey to darkness and unbelief.
“…we cannot celebrate Easter without continuing to deal with the nights that dwell in our hearts and the shadows of death that so often loom over our world. Christ indeed conquered sin and destroyed death, yet in our earthly history the power of his Resurrection is still being brought to fulfilment. And that fulfilment, like a small seed of light, has been entrusted to us, to protect it and to make it grow.
“When the thought of death lies heavy on our hearts, when we see the dark shadows of evil advancing in our world, when we feel the wounds of selfishness or violence festering in our flesh and in our society, let us not lose heart, but return to the message of this night. The light quietly shines forth, even though we are in darkness; the promise of new life and a world finally set free awaits us; and a new beginning, however impossible it might seem, can take us by surprise, for Christ has triumphed over death.
“This message fills our hearts with renewed hope. For in the risen Jesus we have the certainty that our personal history and that of our human family, albeit still immersed in a dark night where lights seem distant and dim, are nonetheless in God’s hands. In his great love, he will not let us falter, or allow evil to have the last word. At the same time, this hope, already fulfilled in Christ, remains for us a goal to be attained. Yet it has been entrusted to us so that we can bear credible witness to it, so that the Kingdom of God may find its way into the hearts of the women and men of our time.”
~Pope Francis, from text of Easter Vigil Homily, April 19, 2025
Image: William Congdon, “Crucifix” series (1960s).
Here is the Collect Prayer for Holy Thursday.
This prayer encourages us to "draw...the fullness of charity [agape] and of life" from the One Sacrifice, a "sacrifice new for all eternity" that is the Paschal Mystery accomplished by Jesus and "entrusted to the Church." As Saint Thomas Aquinas expresses it: “O sacred banquet in which Christ becomes our food, the memory of His Passion is celebrated, the soul is filled with grace, and a pledge of future glory is given to us.” Jesus gives Himself, in the "banquet of His Love" in which we can participate wherever we are in the world today, through the ministry of the Church in the offering the Eucharistic Liturgy. Wherever we are, Jesus loves us and wants to stay with us, draw close to us, raise us up new life as God's children:
“O God, who have called us to participate in this most sacred Supper, in which your Only Begotten Son, when about to hand himself over to death, entrusted to the Church a sacrifice new for all eternity, the banquet of his love, grant, we pray, that we may draw from so great a mystery, the fullness of charity and of life. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, for ever and ever.”
Although he was unable to say the Mass in public, the still-convalescing Pope Francis prepared and published the text of the homily for the beginning of Holy Week celebrations at Saint Peter's Basilica.
Francis’s health continues to improve as he recovers from the pneumonia that hospitalized him from February 14 to March 23. He made a brief public appearance after the conclusion of the Mass, giving much encouragement to the pilgrims at Saint Peter’s (and all the rest of us.).
The Pope's written homily was read aloud by Cardinal Leonardo Sandri during the Palm Sunday Mass. Here are some excerpts from Francis's text that can help us prepare in the coming days:
"Jesus comes to meet everyone, in every situation. When we see the great crowds of men and women whom hatred and violence are compelling to walk the road to Calvary, let us remember that God has made this road a place of redemption, for he walked it himself, giving his life for us... In our own day, [many people are] bearing the cross of Christ on their shoulders! Can we recognize them? Can we see the Lord in their faces, marred by the burden of war and deprivation? Faced with the appalling injustice of evil, we never carry the cross of Christ in vain; on the contrary, it is the most tangible way for us to share in his redemptive love.
"Jesus’ passion becomes compassion whenever we hold out our hand to those who feel they cannot go on, when we lift up those who have fallen, when we embrace those who are discouraged. Brothers and sisters, in order to experience this great miracle of mercy, let us decide how we are meant to carry our own cross during this Holy Week: if not on our shoulders, in our hearts. And not only our cross, but also the cross of those who suffer all around us; perhaps even the cross of some unknown person whom chance — but is it really chance? — has placed on our way."Holy Week and Easter are approaching, and Christina lived her life, loved with great love, and died in the hope of the Resurrection. Her witness and example continue to shine for us, pointing to the glory and beauty of Jesus Christ that wins the victory over death and even the most incomprehensible violence.
I cannot set this aside and ignore it. Not on any day. Especially not in these days.
Here are the shaved heads and constrained bodies of men in an enormous prison. It is a small glimpse of a much bigger picture. These are human persons, created in the image of God, redeemed by the blood of Jesus Christ crucified. They are my brothers.
Some of them are also probably dangerous gang thugs that none of us would want walking around our neighborhoods. We would be terrified if we knew the things that some of the men in this prison have done. But are they all criminals? Who knows? Salvadorian President Nayib Bukele and his collaborators have suspended all reasonable forms of "due process" for these men.
This is El Salvador, the land of Saint Oscar Romero, who was martyred by a different kind of "gang" in 1980. Today, this land and many other places in its vicinity are still afflicted by a "cycle of violence."
In these days when we enter liturgically into the mystery of the death and resurrection of Jesus, I cannot ignore the suffering of my brothers. Nor can I ignore the fact that the “executive branch” of the government of my own country is authorizing an unaccountable federal police force to pull people off the streets, put them in chains, fly them to El Salvador — without charges, without recourse to legal assistance, without trial — "discarding" them in this unregulated concentration camp, ignoring repeated federal court orders for due process, and bragging about it.
So far, it has only been a few hundred people. They are "the worst of the worst," we are told (even though most of them have never been charged with a crime, much less convicted of anything). We have also been told that this administration intends to deport 11 million undocumented immigrants. By what methods? These are human persons. They are not garbage. They have a right to be treated with dignity.
I denounce and reject these deportation policies and the means by which they are being carried out. I do not applaud. I refuse to shout "hail, victory!" to this administration. There is not much I can do. I'm virtually a prisoner of my own afflictions. I write only with great difficulty these days. But that doesn't mean I have to shut up altogether. What the party in power is doing is wrong! And, to the party not-in-power at this time, I'll repeat (again and again) that when you say there is a "fundamental human right" for anyone to kill unborn children in their mothers' wombs, you LIE!
That's all I have the energy to say right now.
Saturday's COLLECT is a powerful prayer that reminds us of our total dependence on the mercy of God, and also the power of His grace to heal, renew, and transform our hearts.
His mercy is always "working" to "direct our hearts aright." His merciful love anticipates our freedom, working even in deep dark spaces of our soul, offering healing and forgiveness, renewing our freedom and opening up new possibilities for reconciliation and growing in love, awakening and sustaining our free cooperation with His plan to save us, change us, and make us His sons and daughters through His Son Jesus Christ crucified and risen.
My father passed away six years ago on this day, April 3, 2019. (Requiem Aeternum...) Here he is in this picture sometime around the year 2011 - the O.G. "Papa" (for the Virginia Janaros) hugging his youngest granddaughter, who was then around four or five years old (she's 18 now!). It's striking for me to realize that I am now the "Papa" and my oldest granddaughter is almost four years old!!
So much has happened in these past six years. My grief has "turned a corner" and is finding its place within the ongoing, ever-changing, not-always-easy but ultimately beautiful history of our family.
But there are still times when I miss him (for example, looking at this picture🥹). I want to talk to him about this new stage of my life, about "elderhood" (i.e. "growing old," but not just in the negative sense). I want to talk to him about the wild winds that are blowing through our nation and the world in this present moment (which are beyond anything he could have imagined while he was still living on this earth).
I believe he remains "close" to us. We carry on his legacy in this world. I feel like he is "encouraging me" - from his resting place within the Heart of Jesus - to remain faithful, to trust in God, and to love my family. He was a quiet but deeply dedicated example of all these things throughout his life.
I love you, Dad. May the Lord reward you in His eternal joy.
April begins with anniversaries of people who have passed from this life into the infinite embrace of the Mystery of God - people who played fundamental roles in the formation and sustenance of my own life's journey.
Twenty years ago, April 2, 2005, Pope Saint John Paul II came to the end and the fulfillment of his singular vocation as a global witness to Jesus Christ: the Living One who calls each person to eternal life. John Paul was the Bishop of Rome, the Successor of Saint Peter, and a great teacher for more than a quarter of a century. His papacy began when I was 15 years old and ended when I was 42. His witness of preaching the Gospel — the Word made flesh who reveals God's love and the full truth of what it means to be human — reached me personally as an encounter with Jesus that was decisive for my life as a young person. My whole generation of Catholic Christians shared in this experience and found the strength and contours of our Christian vocation through the light of the Holy Spirit that shined through John Paul II at the dawn of the third millennium.
Now we are growing older and the world shakes once again with the explosions of war and great winds of change that carry us we-know-not-where. But we have his enduring friendship in the Communion of Saints, from which Saint John Paul II reminds us: "Be not afraid."
John Paul had prepared and released the written text of his final Angelus message, which was read at noon on Sunday, April 3, the day after his death, Divine Mercy Sunday. Here is a section of those words:
"As a gift to humanity, which sometimes seems bewildered and overwhelmed by the power of evil, selfishness and fear, the Risen Lord offers his love that pardons, reconciles and reopens hearts to love. It is a love that converts hearts and gives peace. How much the world needs to understand and accept Divine Mercy!
"Lord, who reveal the Father's love by your death and Resurrection, we believe in you and confidently repeat to you today: Jesus, I trust in you, have mercy upon us and upon the whole world."
Woof! It’s exhausting! Maybe writing about it will help.
In the Spring of the year 2025, JJ finds himself in a rare and peculiar situation: I am 62 years old; a born U.S. citizen who is a third generation descendant from Italian immigrants; a person who grew up in the 1970s in the Northeast where I came to know people with vastly diverse opinions and to appreciate them as persons (and sometimes friends) even if we had ardent disagreements about important issues. I am a man of advanced education and wide connections that include Europeans, Asians, Africans, and Latin Americans (some of whom live here on various kinds of work visas, and who have serious concerns about their future in this country). I myself am a former expat, living in Italy 1993-1994 and gaining much perspective on my own homeland as seen by others. I am a husband, father, and grandfather who cares about the future of my country and the world, who hopes his grandchildren can grow up in a society that is both decent and generous.
I am also a physically and mentally disabled person for the past 17 years who has sometimes lived “on the edge” of a frightening health condition, and a beneficiary during that time of Social Security Disability and Medicare for myself and my five children as they were growing up. I am a teacher by profession married for nearly 30 years to another teacher – my dear wife who is singularly dedicated, who works harder and cares more deeply for her students than anyone realizes. Between the two of us, we have barely managed to scrounge up enough income to run our idiosyncratic, funny, book-cluttered, small and (in the old days) crowded but cozy and — on the whole — happy home. I don’t mean to sound irresponsible or pietistic when I say, “We trust in God” to be provided with and sustained by what matters most for our common life. And God has been good and generous to us.
Both of us regard education as a vocation, a calling to serve others by sharing the gifts we have been given (which means that I continue my involvement in this service in whatever ways I can within the limitations of my condition). Some of you have read my 2010 book Never Give Up, or you've read at least part of my ongoing (over a decade) monthly column in Magnificat on conversion stories. It costs me more energy than you can imagine to write that two-page column every month. I also have ongoing “study-projects” on China and East Asia, on the significance of technological advances in media, and on the life and work of Luigi Giussani.
Above all, I am a follower of Jesus Christ in His Catholic Church. I belong to Jesus, the Redeemer of all human beings and all creation, the One who answers my cry from the depths of what I often feel to be the disaster of my own life, my abysmal failure in everything, and most importantly my sins. I am a sinner. I try to listen to the voice of Jesus through the living reality of His Church, which makes it possible to encounter Him in today’s world and in my own daily life. I travel through this life together with a particular friendship that I have been entrusted to by Christ and that lives fully from within the Church: from Word and Sacrament and a confident following of the teaching and pastoral guidance of the Pope and the bishops in communion with him. "Following" is not an abdication of my own reason and freedom. Quite the contrary, for here I find Jesus speaking to our reason enlightened by faith, stirring up the gifts of the Holy Spirit who gives us a new way of seeing reality; Jesus making gentle but convincing appeals to our freedom. Those who are called to be “shepherds” in the Church have their flaws (sometimes terrible flaws), but they pass on something greater than themselves – they witness to the One who was crucified and is risen, to the tradition that sustains His saving presence through history and demonstrates that He is the answer to our times as well. Everyone is seeking Him (whether they know it or not). We seek Him in our silence, our words, and our actions. Concern for the common good of our globally interconnected world – especially for the poor and those who suffer injustices and oppression – is for us a work of Christian love (agape, caritas), a “work of mercy.”
Belonging to Jesus Christ in the Church has sustained in me a fascination for the whole scope of human existence, a rich intellectual life focused on reality as well as a particular tenderness toward the struggles and problems of human persons. I still restlessly search for the human face in all its expressions, because these are the faces of my brothers and sisters, the face of Jesus. This is the deep-down joy of my sometimes difficult life — a joy deeper than the stormy winds of illness and pain, or of psychological and emotional states that afflict me.
That being said, I am a bit depressed these days. I find myself disoriented by the wildness that has been unleashed in my native country. Of course, I know that as Christians we are “strangers and sojourners” in this world (see 1 Peter 2:11), who seek our ultimate fulfillment beyond this present life, though not “disconnected” from the significance of the goodness we encounter and engage on earth. I do “love my country” (perhaps more than I realized), but how do I “fit in” to its peculiar and presently bizarre drama? What am I called to offer, here and now? How can I say anything (or even remain silent) without being misunderstood?The fact that I am burdened with a sense of “patriotic disenfranchisement” is not a new problem. I have grown up in a world that is undergoing earthquakes of change. Meanwhile, rich nations (including my own) endeavor as never before to organize and govern themselves as if God does not exist, as if the mystery of being created persons called by the Infinite One to a transcendent destiny is irrelevant to our common life. Even if we make loud references to God (or to “Jesus”) in our politics, we are speaking largely empty words about a “God” whom we have “tamed” to the exigencies of our own agenda. We can easily place this “God,” this “Jesus” that we have reinvented in our own minds, on the edges of the altars we have raised up to our other “gods” — money, power, self-assertion, “success,” self-indulgence, envy. A God who demands justice is irrelevant to our criteria for “justice,” which means that the God who is merciful — who loves us, forgives us, saves us — has also been exiled from our public life and our understanding of the foundations of human dignity.
The result is that we find ourselves strangers to one another, searching desperately for our own “identities” without foundation, without guidance. No wonder we fail to hear the cries of the poor. When we marginalize God, we marginalize the poor, we ignore the most vulnerable among us. I agree with Mother Teresa who said [here I paraphrase], more than thirty years ago, “If we kill children in the wombs of their mothers, what is to stop me from killing you, or you from killing me.” Nevertheless, political parties that aspire to champion the “rights of the poor” refuse to attend to the poorest of the poor. On the contrary, they positively trample upon the human dignity of the mother and the unborn child in her womb — two persons who both have the need and the right to be loved and supported by those around them, by their families and communities and if necessary with the assistance of public resources. I am bewildered by these would-be idealists who try to cover up prenatal homicide by calling it a “fundamental human right”! How can I trust anything these parties say?
Many other problems in my own country are similarly steeped in a blind and deadly ignorance. I grew up in a time when “peace” was secured by the recognition of a common enemy (the Communist world) that was more deeply and evidently sunk in human degradation, but that in many ways was a strange mirror image of the so-called “free world,” enshrining in its ideology and brutally enacting political violence that we restrained among ourselves more by hypocrisy than rooted conviction. There was “peace” among the great powers while both sides waged proxy wars among the poorer nations, but above all because both sides built stockpiles of obscene nuclear weapons and mutually threatened to bomb the human race into extinction as a response to a first strike by the other. We were spared this total catastrophe by the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991, but the opportunity for a more genuine form of peace quickly became obscured by the ensuing aimless fragmentation that gave rise to new sources of violence. We learned nothing of our need for the wisdom of God and plunged more deeply into our own self-obsession — into new “extensions” of the power of our own narcissism by the amplification of media technology, into delusions of satisfaction that exhausted the human senses and imprisoned the human heart, into sexual chaos, the cheapening of life, greater exploitation of the natural world, ignorance of any kind of meaningful humanism, and — of course — greater deafness to the cries of the poor.
And we still stand under the horrific shadow of nuclear weapons, perhaps not to danger of extinction but still subject to the possibility of a war that might bring “fire and fury like the world has never known” (as the American President threatened in 1945 and accurately predicted of the nuclear bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki — it is disconcerting to hear such threats repeated in more recent days).
I could reflect also on much that is good in human affairs, and I always prefer to seek out the good. Even if we have forgotten God, the fact remains that God has not forgotten us. The Mystery of God remains at work among us in unfathomable ways, bringing good out of evil, drawing us with love and mercy.
But right now, I’m depressed, and I might as well put my depression to good use. In these days, my depression is being “triggered” by events that should be called out, by further incoherence in our public life, by things that — notwithstanding my own complex neuropathological profile — are genuine sources of confusion and apprehension that cannot be ignored.
It’s not surprising that I find myself increasingly disoriented and disturbed by the recent actions of our new government. The problem in the United States today is not simply that our leadership is being aggressive and radical in its actions; it is also the way in which the leadership dictates forceful measures without any interest in building a reasonable level of credibility or respect for the “authority” it claims. On the contrary, it disregards the law and its courts, tramples on longstanding government precedents, threatens its opponents, and – in the name of ridding us of “terrorists” – unleashes an extrajudicial police force to arrest people without charges, without access to lawyers, without trial, without any accountability, and sends these people to a prison of cruel and unusual punishment run by a for-profit private company in El Salvador.
There is a lot of evidence — to say the least — that innocent people who came from Venezuela to the USA through a legal path of asylum-seeking established by the previous administration (and reneged on by the current regime) have been “disappeared.” We don’t know who they are, or how many they are, or what crimes the guilty may have committed. No doubt there are also (mostly) violent criminals among this deported group. There are many more violent criminals who are U.S. citizens. Violent crime is an awful and ever-expanding problem in our land. Scapegoating undocumented immigrants and hauling them off to lawless prison colonies in other countries is just compounding crime with more crime. When we respond to violence with violence, society only becomes more destructive. When respect for the dignity of the human person vanishes, no one can live in peace. “Safety” is an illusion when we allow violence to become the principle of our government, when we decide that some human persons among us ought to be stripped of their most basic human rights and treated like garbage, when we no longer care if the innocent suffer with the guilty and no one has recourse to any means of rectifying injustice.
Meanwhile, our current national leadership has discarded even the pretense of civility, descending into verbal warfare as a substitute for reasonable explanation. This regime openly insults neighboring nations and threatens to absorb them against their will. It seems intent on losing the trust of former allies and isolating our country from everyone except dictatorships and rogue states. Not surprisingly, the head of our current leadership — while demanding more power — never acknowledges any mistakes, never apologizes, rarely even attempts to explain the regime’s behavior in a reasonable way, and never takes responsibility for the negative consequences of anything that is done.I cannot see any long-term constructive good coming from this illegal, offensive, dangerous, and dishonorable behavior coming out of the Executive Branch of the U.S. government. But what does the "other party" have to offer? They pretend greater coherence and refinement of speech. They talk about “human rights,” but they have dug in their heels to insist upon the public promotion of “freedom” as individualistic anarchy that extends to the point of affirming a “right” to kill defenseless human persons.
I am not the only U.S. citizen who sees the current “duopoly” as an intractable problem. I have already given a detailed account of my own political decisions elsewhere [see HERE]. To be presented with a choice between “two evils” hardly constitutes a meaningful participation in the political process. In my opinion, we need different kinds of elections, but that is not the only thing — or even the most important thing — we need in politics today, much less in life.
Rather, I have a different kind of hope, which pertains to eternal life but also sheds light on this current life in ways that can be “sketched out.” I don’t have ready solutions to specific problems, but I see some part of the outline of a more human world that might emerge insofar as we open ourselves to the cultivation of wisdom and a new kind of loving attention to the Source of all wisdom. But I will save my reflections on that theme for another post.