And Oh, By The Way....

Yes, my creche is still up and gracing the front window to our house, along with the candles and small green foil Christmas trees. And there they shall remain until the Feast of the Presentation on Feb. 2nd.

The History of the Chaplet of St. Michael

A few days ago, I promised to provide the history of this powerful chaplet, so here it is, courtesy of "The Prayerbook, Prayers for all Occasions". While I have seen varying versions of this chaplet (some require the Act of Contrition and/or Apostles Crred, others do not) the prayers making up the body of the chaplet are essentially the same.

"This chaplet was given to a devout servant of God, Antonia D'Astonac, in the apparition by St. Michael. To all who, should recite the nine salutations every day, before receiving Holy communion, he promised that an angel of each of the nine choirs would be assigned to accompany them to the altar. He also promised continual assistance during life, and after death, and the deliverance of their souls and their relatives' souls from the pains of Purgatory."

Turing to Prayer In Difficult Times

It seems especially foolish now, but the other evening, I had a stupid argument with my husband that grew rather heated. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, I cannot wait to go to confession as even a heartfelt and sincere Act of Contrition will not suffice. When I view the catastrophe in Haiti and try to imagine the suffering of the Haitian people, I know that "sweating the small stuff", as they say, is particularly small-minded and petty. I am so fortunate to live within walking distance of at least two churches that offer confessions every day except Sunday. After going to confession, I went to evening Mass ( I had to be at work exceptionally early that day and could not make my usual 6:30 am Mass at St. Monica's) and as I was paging through my Magnificat, I came to the Meditation of the Day, which was written by St. Teresa of Jesus (Avila). It was poignant because after the silly row I had with Jim, I was almost too embarassed to pray. I had to swallow a bit of pride and anger before I could place myself in the presence of the Lord. The following is an excerpt from the Magnificat which proved the folly of my concerns:

"Now I make the sign of the Cross with amazement, and it doesn't seem to me that I underwent any danger as bad as with this invention the devil taught me under the pretext of humility. He put the thought into my head to question how, since I was so wretched and had received so many favors, I could engage in prayer; and the thought that it was enough for me to recite, like everyone else, my obligatory vocal prayers; and the question about how I could pretend to do more since I didn't even say my vocal prayers well; he suggesting that engaging in prayer showed a lack of reverence and little esteem for the favors of God.
"It was right to think about and understand these things; but to give up the practice of prayer was the greatest evil. May you be blessed Lord, Who came to my rescue."

St. Teresa of Jesus (Avila)

What Do You Do When Man's Best Friend Has the Blues?

This is a silly gratuitous post about my dogs. A few years ago, my daughter brought home a little chihuahua-daschund mix puppy to join our then 5-yr-old Bichon Frise. This past May, the Bichon developed cancer of the spleen and after a brave effort, passed away in September. The little mutt is still in mourning and we didn't know what to do to help him, so we adopted a little chihuahua-pug female who was found as a stray in Kentucky and shipped to Philadelphia from a high-kill shelter. We thought she would be the salve his little heart needed to heal, but he's still missing his buddy. Yesterday, something remarkable happened. He saw the deceased dog's photo on my screensaver and leaped off my lap onto the keyboard to check it out. His little heart was beating a mile a minute and his tail wagged and I just watched in amazement. Eventually, he realized it was just a photo and sat back down. I wish I knew what the answer to his depression was but I'm hoping that the same is true for dogs as it normally is for humans - time heals all wounds.

The Christmas Season

In South Philadelphia, windows decorated for Christmas have come to resemble elaborate stage productions, most of which have already been taken down. Those that are remaining will nearly all be gone after today, which is the traditional feast of the Epiphany. We are asked to keep physical reminders of Christmas around until at least January 10th, the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord. Years ago, it was traditional to keep the creche up until the Feast of the Presentation on February 2nd
I don't ever recall a church keeping the creche up until then but I'm told this is commonplace in Italy, to the point where there were only a few days between Candlemas and Ash Wednesday (the year Easter fell exceptionally early).

Aside from the cheer that keeping the lights and the tree around for a little bit longer provide, I like the idea of keeping my Nativity scene and candles in the front window until Candlemas for the opening it provides with my neighbors, who will often remark that I "still have my decorations up." It's a simple way of giving public witness to our faith.

Starting The New Year Off Right

Many thanks to dear Father Check for holding a Family Holy Hour this evening at St. Monica's. Father gave a very insightful reflection on how we should attend Mass: as Mary, St. John and St. Mary Magdalene attended Jesus at the foot of His cross. How many devotions do I practice that become routine with a lack of attention to Jesus? How many times at Mass does my mind wander? How many times do I enter church, only to be so distracted by other people that I neglect to properly greet the Lord immediately upon entering church?

Yesterday, my pastor gave a sermon on the meaning of an Epiphany and how we can use every single Mass we attend to become more transformed by Christ. It can only happen if we give Jesus the attention He alone is worthy of at every Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. The altar is not only the Holy Table, it is also the Cross and the Tomb. If the Eucharist represents one Salvific moment commemorating the Last Supper, the Death and Resurrection of Jesus Christ, it behooves us to give the Lord all our mind and heart at every Mass and every Holy Hour. Easier said than done for me but it's something I certainly know I must work on.

With that said, it's never a bad idea to take stock of our daily devotions and see how much more we can do. If praying the Rosary isn't part of your daily devotions, do try to make it one, even it means you have to recite it a decade here and there throughout the day. Don't waste a minute on idle thoughts or activities if you haven't been successful in praying the Rosary every day. If you do pray the Rosary every day, try as best you can to pray it in front of the Blessed Sacrament every opportunity you get. There is a plenary indulgence gained for a half hour of prayer before the Blessed Sacrament, with the usual conditions attached, of course. Every devotion to Our Lady is not meant for adoration of her but to please her by adoring her Divine Son. What a wonderful way of consoling her by praying her Rosary before her Son in the Eucharist.

I would also highly recommend praying the Chaplet to St. Michael at least once a week, more if possible. In a future thread, I will post the chaplet here. It isn't necessary to pray it on beads, though it does help to keep track of where you are. Along with Daily Mass, the Rosary, the Divine Mercy Chaplet and the Chaplet to St. Michael are powerful spiritual weapons at our disposal that we should use every opportunity we have.

What Are You Doing on New Year's Eve?

It's nice to know that Catholics who aren't into the whole "New Year's Eve scene" have some prayerful alternatives. At the Carmelite Monastery at 66th Ave. and Old York Road, there will be Adoration of the Most Blessed Sacrament at 10pm followed by Holy Mass at Midnight. I've always wanted to get to the Monastery on this evening and one of these days I will.

A little closer to home, St. Rita's at Broad and Ellsworth Street will also offer Midnight Mass in the lower shrine chapel preceded by Adoration at 10pm, Recitation of the Rosary at 11:15 followed by the Divine Mercy Chaplet and then Mass. Father Bill Rechuitti, OSA is the celebrant. This beautiful tradition was formerly handled by Father Jim Galligan, OSA who is now retired and living at Villanova. It's such a blessing that Father Bill resumed this custom at St. Rita's.

For something a little different on New Year's Day, St Paul at 10th and Christian will offer Low Mass in the Extraordinary Form (Traditional Latin Mass) at Noon followed by Benediction of the Most Blessed Sacrament.

This is the kind of New Year's celebration I can look forward to. How about you?

Happy New Year, whatever your plans!

Rest in Peace, Father Clement Kurowski, OFM

I was saddened to hear of the loss of Father Clem on Christmas Eve. Unbeknownst to me, Father had bone cancer, to which he finally succumbed. Whether it was saintliness or a stoic nature or both, Father Clem gave no indication that I could see that he was suffering in an extraordinary way. I am reminded of what happened when a novice came to St. Therese in tears to complain about a particular burden she was silently carrying. Our Saint gently admonished her. "It is because no one knows about your pain that you feel it so acutely." I never knew Father Clem personally but had him for Mass several mornings a week, up until recently. He also heard confessions on Wednesdays until a few years ago at St. John the Evangelist in Center City. When a friend lamented his passing to me today he said "They don't make them like Clem anymore." I'd like to think that if I faced similar suffering in life, that I could make the effort Father Clem did to carry out his duties. He was a diamond in the rough and will be missed. May he rest in peace.

The Ironies of Our God

A most memorable joke told to us by Father Benedict Groeschel a few years back concerned the reaction of a priest upon his arrival in Heaven. Recognizing the cast of characters whose confessions he had heard, he asked St. Peter: "How did THEY get in here?" Nodding his head toward Mary, St. Peter replied: "His mother." You just never know.

At Christmas, it seems people come out of the woodwork, or wherever they've been hiding, to return to the Church. This is a good thing. None of us knows what another person has been through or how it is that they have returned to the Lord. What we do know is the Lord often chooses the weak things of the world to carry out His will. And the person who is a seemingly annoying pest who cannot contain their exuberance at Mass may well have been sent to teach us more about ourselves than we realize. Do we see what Our Lord sees, or what we choose to see? For all we know, the Lord is estatic to see a fallen-away son or daughter return to Him and perhaps He does not care that the person makes it difficult for the rest of us to pray. At times like that, do I complain to myself, or do I offer the lack of quiet as a gift in thanksgiving for a lost soul coming back home?

At this time of year when external charity can come so easily, it seems a good time for me to do some soul-searching about my interior charity and remind myself once again that it's not about me, it's about Him.

Christmas Eve

Last year for Christmas, my husband took all of his late father's WWII films that he shot during the war and had them transferred to DVD's for his 5 siblings. This year, he took his father's films that he shot throughout numerous Christmastides and had them transferred to DVD. We previewed a little last night and it was like watching episodes of Lassie or Ozzie and Harriet. Little children in their PJ's kneeling by their beds while their older sister lead them in prayer before bedtime. Sleepy-eyed children making their way down the stairs to open packages containing dolls, cowboy hats, holsters and plastic rocket ships. The Nativity scene under the tree which each child acknowledged before moving on to the packages. A homemade Italian rum cake decorated with a single candle for the family to sing Happy Birthday to Jesus. The footage from 1960 showed a monstrous snow storm and all 5 siblings joining in to shovel (number 6 had just arrived) amid the backdrop of their picket-fenced home adorned with big old fashioned Christmas bulbs, wreaths and two large candles that sat on either side of the entrance to the house.

It's part of human nature to become nostalgic at times for bygone eras where everything just seemed to be better. In our own household, we tried very hard to make the Holy Family the focus of Christmas, but it wasn't easy. It wasn't just that Santa was coming - it was that on Christmas Eve we'd get together with my 4 cousins, with whom I was practically raised, and enjoy a feast like no other. My grandmother's strufuli. The Seven fishes. The colored lights strewn across Wolf Street. And best of all, it seemed the adults were in the happiest mood ever on Christmas Eve. My uncle would simultaneously entertain us with stories about the time he encountered Old St. Nick on the lawn with warnings about how bad we'd been and should probably expect nothing more than coal in our stockings.

On Christmas Day, we attended Mass as a family and then in the afternoon, headed over to my uncle's diner, where the Banquet Room was transformed into a giant family dining room for about 30 people. His German-born baker would prepare tantalizing sweets ornately decorated for Christmas that were as delicious as they were beautiful. Everyone was dressed to the nines, and there was no shortage of playmates. I'm not sure how much the adults enjoyed it but we kids had a blast. We sang on the microphone, danced and relished one another's company. Believe it or not, for me, one of the most exciting parts of this day was seeing the statue of St. Rita all lit up outside the church named for her. I would think about the nuns in my school and how they probably spent Christmas. I pictured Rosalind Russell carrying a large lit candle into the chapel in the Trouble With Angels.

The best thing about my Christmases past was their simplicity and the joy in family. Sure, we were undeniably excited about our gifts, but there was none of the greed we have today. No fascination with electronic gadgets that have kids typing on keyboards rather than engaging their families and friends. No demands for high-priced items that rack up credit card debt and put families into near-bankruptcy.

Despite the greed that has come to mar the meaning of Christmas, there is no shortage of inspiring stories. My colleague at Pennsylvania Hospital, and her husband, who go out at 4 am on Christmas morning to deliver packages to homeless people living on the streets. Our Jewish friends who volunteer in hospital cafeterias so kitchen workers can spend Christmas at home with their families. The secret Santas that never make the news - cops, firemen and ordinary citizens who make sure children they've never met find something to smile about under the tree. And this infectious generosity is not something that happens just once a year for these folks - it's they way they live their lives every day of the year. Surely, they know the Reason for the Season and they carry Him with them everywhere they go, not just on Christmas Eve.

A Blessed Christmas to all and best wishes for a peaceful and healthy New Year!

Waiting With Mary: Purity

Here's what's been on my mind the last few days.

As I have alluded to on this little blog a few times in the past week or so, I've been struggling with some issues in the workplace. I came to the resolution that I need to stop reacting and allow myself to carry out Christ's will by no longer imposing my own. Refusing to act in haste is somewhat easier than thinking about what I'd like to do.

There is no greater model of human purity of body, mind and soul than Mary, the Mother of God. When we refuse to respond to our detractors, we emulate her. When we refuse to dress provocatively, we emulate her. When we treat our bodies as temples of the Lord, we emulate her. When we read, view or say nothing that would stain our modesty and chastity, we emulate her. When we do nothing to lead another into sin, we emulate her. And when we put her Divine Son above all else in our lives, we emulate her.

Consider how many times a day Our Mother in Heaven is approached by creatures less than she is. She does not look upon us and see how inferior we are. She looks upon us with mercy and love and sees children in need of her help. So when the instigator at work tries to provoke me, rather than see someone I can look down on, I must now see a brother or sister in need of my help and lift them in prayer.

The Reason for the Season

This morning I went to see the youngest of my 3, Rebecca, in a Christmas Posada at Old St. Mary's Church in Olde City. Rebecca's name was drawn out of a hat to play the part of Mary and she was accompanied by Joseph and a well-dressed coterie of angels, shepherds and innkeepers. The children sang in Spanish and moved from inn to inn and finally to the altar, where the Nativity took place. Several readers from the lower school took turns reading the Christmas story while the rest of the school sang carols. It was a very moving little performance.

At some schools, such pageants are topped off by Santa making a grand entrance at the end. Thankfully, that did not happen here, but I've been told about a local church that has a special children's Vigil Mass at 4:30 on Christmas Eve. Shortly after Holy Communion, Santa sneaks in a side door. He says nothing to anyone but quietly tiptpoes to the creche, where he kneels in silent adoration of the Christ Child.

Our children are inundated with the secular meaning of Christmas and it's good to see Catholic schools emphasizing what's most important. As the little ones in kindergarten reminded us this morning as they sang Happy Birthday to the Baby Jesus, He is the Reason for the Season.

Snow

Here is a little poem I wrote while in high school. It's nothing prolific or deep - just a cute little tribute to snow. English was my favorite subject (despite my poor grammar) and one of my classes required writing haiku and other forms of poetry. Here goes:


Winter is the time
when the angels sweep the clouds.
The dust falls in a bridal veil
and settles in sugar mounds.

It gathers on the window panes
and branches of the trees
And dances on the rooftops
Each time the angels sneeze.

Waiting With Our Lady: Humility

When I was a little girl, I was in love with the movie "Song of Bernadette". I remember being permitted to stay up a little later one Sunday night to watch it and crying myself to sleep because I wanted to see the Blessed Mother so badly. It's no accident that Marian visionaries are so often people like Bernadette Soubirous: simple, unassuming and humble in all things. Had I been privileged to view the face of the Mother of God, I probably would not have been able to get through a doorway for the size of my head.

The first thing Mary does after Gabriel's visit to her is to head for the hill country so she can wait on her cousin Elizabeth. She doesn't take a moment to rest on her laurels, so to speak. After proclaiming herself as the handmaid of the Lord, she goes out in service of another, despite the way she herself may have been feeling. Later, as she and Joseph head to Bethlehem for the census, she says nothing to the innkeepers who turn them away. She doesn't berate them for refusing lodging to the Mother of God, nor does she mention that she is carrying in her womb the Messiah. Rather, she goes quietly with Joseph to the stable where she will give birth.

Mary recognized that any greatness she had came not from within but from God. She did all things in His service. When we are so infatuated with ourselves that we are blinded by our own nothingness, we prevent God from working through us. Mary achieved perfect union with Him not only because she gave birth to Jesus but because she made herself less to make Him more. When we don't get recognized for something; when we are overlooked while others are exalted; when we get our feelings hurt because someone forgot to mention us - we should remember Mary. A most simple girl who was the most privileged woman in history and the least self-seeking.

Pro-Life March in Washington, D.C. on Jan. 22nd

Once again, St. Rita's at Broad and Ellsworth Street is sponsoring a bus to the pro-life march and rally in Washington D.C. on Friday, Jan. 22nd. There are a limited number of seats available. The bus departs from St Rita's at 7 am promptly and the cost of a ticket is $41. The day includes Mass at the Basilica of the Immaculate Conception in Washington. Last year, to get to the rally after Mass, we took the Metro into downtown D.C. which was very easy to do. We met up back at the Basilica for departure home. If interested, contact Deborah at St. Rita's at 215-546-8333 . The money is not due until after the Christmas holidays.

Why This Blog?

I started this blog as a way to "evangelize" to some of my fallen away Catholic friends and family members. I often link my posts to my Facebook page in the hopes that I can plant a seed in a softening heart. It is so named because of my devotion to St. Therese and her Little Way of gaining souls for Jesus. It was St. Therese who brought me back to the one true faith and in gratitude to her, I try in every little way possible to help her fulfill her wish that her work be continued while she is in heaven. In the meantime, here is a prayer that St. Therese wrote for one of her brother priests and she beseeched him to continue to pray it for her even after her death.

Mericful Father, in the name of Thy Sweet Jesus, of the Blessed Virgin Mary and of all the Saints, I beg Thee to consume my sister Therese with Thy Spirit of Love and to grant her the grace to make Thee greatly loved. Amen

Waiting With Our Lady: Trust in God's Plan

It is rare to go to confession and not have the priest advise that I should look to Mary as an example of how to try to live my life. The first we know of Mary in the Bible is when she is greeted by the Angel Gabriel. What a beautiful Gospel passage it is, to think of God sending His angel to see a betrothed virgin of only about 15 years old. There is no shortage of exquisite artwork depicting the image of a terrified young girl in the presence of a heavenly being. It's difficult sometimes not to put ourselves in Mary's position and imagine how we might have reacted.

To me, the most amazing thing is that Mary had complete and total trust in God. Despite her virginal fear, she didn't ask Gabriel a million questions - no what ifs or yeah buts - just the simple yes that changed the world. No other singular consent has ever impacted the human race as her fiat has. Though Mary speaks few words in the Gospels, what is abundantly clear is that she never questioned God's will. She was the perfect instrument of His Divine Plan.

Later, when, the adult Jesus begins His public ministry, the inherent trust she had in God is evident at the Wedding Feast at Cana when she brings the embarrassment of the wedding hosts to her Son. When Jesus admonished her that His hour had not yet come, she didn't question Him and berate Him by asking "What in the world are you waiting for? Do something already". Her perfect trust in God assured her that Jesus would be of help. It was St. Therese who noted that "for those with faith the size of a mustard seed, He moves mountains. But for those with much faith, He makes them wait, like His mother at the Wedding Feast."

In my efforts to keep the Grand Silence in my own way, I look to Mary as a perfect example of one who questioned nothing and accepted all that she was privileged to receive from God. Every one of us can carry the Christ Child in our hearts and present Him to a broken world by imitating His mother in her total acceptance of and obedience to God's will.

Silence is Golden

I have wondered what the purpose of The Grand Silence is in monasteries aside from providing the kind of solitude conducive to the contemplative life. It occurred to me that at least part of the reason is because talk is such a dangerous thing for all of us, even those living the cloistered life. In the secular world, where so many of us feel the need to vent, myself included, I wish we, too had a Grand Silence. It's human to want to discuss our feelings and frustrations. What's harder is to offer those who present challenges to us in our daily lives in prayer and be thankful to the Lord for putting them in our paths. As Jesus said, what good is it if we love only those who love us? The more difficult someone is, the more of an opportunity they present for us to put matters in God's hands through prayer and the kind of self-control necessary to "keep things to ourselves."

It was the poet Emily Dickinson who wrote:

"We must be careful what we say; no bird resumes its egg."

And the less we say, somehow the better off we are, especially in difficult situations. I've made an Advent Resolution to myself today that the next time I feel the need to "vent", I will do so through prayer, and in particular for the person or persons who make life difficult.

Just A Thought

I was walking to work this morning and was thinking of how Saint Faustina came to join the convent. She was at a dance when Our Lord appeared to her, bloody from the scourge, and He asked her: How long must I wait for you? She went immediately to seek out a convent and was not received enthusiastically. This lead me to think about how many times I've felt called to do something for Jesus, only to encounter opposition. Obstacles can lead one to believe they are headed down the wrong path and it's only with the guidance of the Holy Spirit that we are able let God accomplish His will in our lives. Just something to think about the next time you find yourself headed down a rocky path.

Getting Ready

There are two questions that cause me to recoil inside like garlic presented to a vampire: What are you doing this weekend, and, Are you ready for Christmas? Now the latter question has an entirely different meaning when it is posed to me by my friends in the Catholic circles in which I travel but it means something else altogether when put to me by those who scoff at any thing religious. And most of the time this question is presented to me, it's by the latter. Every year, I get a little lazier in putting up the decorations. The folks down the street have their decorations up by the end of the day on Thanksgiving. I manage to find the Nativity scene and place it in the front window, and then everything else just sort of happens.

What does it mean to be ready for Christmas? It means if the end of my life should suddenly come today, I'm as ready as I can be spiritually to make an accounting of my life. That begins with silent contemplation, frequent reception of the sacraments of confession and Holy Communion and a sincere desire for a change of heart. For the past few years, I've done my best to get to the Silent Retreat at the Carmelite Monastery. I go to confession the night before, and then I spend as much time as I possibly can before the Blessed Sacrament. I have never come away from that day without having some sort of Epiphany about myself. I leave feeling strengthened to take on the enemy, or at least be prepared for his attacks. And usually, a day or two later, I fall flat on my face.

The first time it happened, I was caught completely and totally off-guard. A person who could best be described as a pagan asked me what I had done the day before, and when I told her how I'd spent my day, she launched into a vitriolic attack on my religion. This is a person who is well-aware of where I stand on both her beliefs and mine and I'd made the conscious decision to tell her how spiritually-fulfilling the retreat was for me, out of a perhaps misguided desire to defend the faith. I simply wasn't prepared for what was spewed at me. I did the best I could to withstand the attack and then I avoided any conversation with this person for as long as I oould (hard to do when you work someone).

When I relayed what happened to the friend who had invited me to the retreat, she was incredulous that I didn't see it coming. My late grandmother had a saying: the devil sits on monastery walls. I didn't know how true that was, that those striving for holiness are prime targets, but my friend apparently did. She advised me that while it was too late to be on guard this year, next year I could try to do a better job. "You need to prepare to be attacked next time. What are you going to do next time? That's what you have to figure out". In subsequent years, I think I did a better job of withstanding the assaults. Then this year rolled around.

Saturday, a day of great personal progress in my spiritual life. Sunday, on guard. Provoked a bit here and there but nothing major. I'm safe I thought. Silly me. Walked into work on Monday morning and faced a constant barrage of attacks to the point that by 10 am, I had my head on my desk in tears. And the most shameful part of it all is tnat I never once asked for the Lord's help in fending off the attackers. I've had other Mondays where I knew it was going to be an ugly day, but I spent considerable time in prayer beforehand and told Jesus I needed to place everything in His hands because I was incapable of dealing with it. Did I do that this time? No, and worse, I stupidly thought that because I had survived the day after the retreat, that it would be clear sailing from then on.

At Christmas, we hear a lot about peace and joy. What does that mean? Is it sensible, or felt, joy? Not always. It's more of a contentment knowing that whatever happens in the world, there is a better one to come. And we have inner-peace because despite the insanity going on around us - outright greed amid a lack of attention to Jesus, we have Him and we always will. But don't forget, as I seemed to have, that even Our Lord was faced with temptation. Desire to achieve union with Him means undergoing trials. An endless number of silent retreats can't change that. But they can strengthen our resolve to be like Him and to always place our entire trust in Him.