Friday, August 22, 2025

What is Expected of Us in This World

During the time immediately before and quite sometime after my conversion I thought that leading a religious life meant giving up all earthly things and having one's mind fixed on divine things only. Gradually, however, I learned that other things are expected of us in this world. I even believe that the deeper someone is drawn to God, the more he has to "get beyond himself" in this sense, that is, go into the world and carry divine life into it.


ST. TERESA BENEDICTA OF THE CROSS The Hidden Life: Collected Works of Edith Stein

Wednesday, August 20, 2025

Religion Lacking in Works

Be careful! Don't make your religion consist only of theoretical things. If a religion is lacking in works, it won't get you into the kingdom of heaven. The Lord has already said it: it is not the one who says Lord, Lord, the one who prays a great deal with beautiful prayers, who will enter the kingdom of heaven. It is rather the one who does the will of my Father in heaven. This is the true religion: not just remaining pure, but visiting widows and orphans. This is a biblical expression that means to concern yourself with those in need.


ST. OSCAR ROMERO Through The Year With Oscar Romero

Monday, August 18, 2025

Seeking God Where He Is

If only we realized how we complicate life, when in reality it is so simple. All our troubles come from this: that we do not know how to seek God where He is. We seek him far away, and all the while He is quite close to us. In Him we live, and move and have our being. This is true from the natural point of view, but above all from the supernatural. God is the soul of our soul: that is, the Principal that gives it life. It is there that we must seek Him, and it is there we shall find him ‘without end’.


A CARTHUSIAN They Speak By Silences

Friday, August 15, 2025

Giving Oneself

To give oneself to God, recklessly forgetful of self, not to take account of one's own individual life to allow full room for divine life, this is the profound motive, the principle, and the end of religious life. The more perfectly it is carried out, so much the richer is the divine life that fills the soul.


ST. TERESA BENEDICTA OF THE CROSS Thoughts of Edith Stein 

Wednesday, August 13, 2025

The Fixity of God

God and humanity are like two lovers who have missed their rendezvous. Each is there before the time, but each at a different place, and they wait and wait and wait. He stands motionless, nailed to the spot for the whole time…. The crucifixion of Christ is the image of this fixity of God.


SIMONE WEIL The Simone Weil Reader

Monday, August 11, 2025

Our Greatest Danger

Our greatest danger is not our sins, but our indifference. We must be in love with God. It is not so much to change what we are doing, but our intention, our motive. It is not sufficient that we refrain from insulting a person, we must love.


DOROTHY DAY The Catholic Worker, Jul/Aug 1943

Sunday, August 10, 2025

Homily — 19th Sunday on O.T.

We are told that for those children who grow up in an atmosphere of abuse, addiction or violence; hyper-vigilance becomes routine. You learn to be constantly on guard and attentive to protect yourself. An adult could lose control; something is likely to go wrong; the situation could become dangerous in a flash. You have to be ready for anything. You learn vigilance at an early age because vigilance means survival. My sisters and brothers, the vigilance Our Lord invites us into this morning, is something quite different, far more benign, luxuriant and quite spacious, born of a deep confidence in God’s love for us. We are invited to be mindful of the nowness of God’s presence with us. Jesus invites to live in this now of the kingdom – a place where God is in charge, disposing all things suaviter, as Aquinas will insist; suaviter means that he is arranging everything gently, lovingly, smoothly. For if, as we believe, the kingdom will come to fullness in the age to come, Jesus’ plea is for us to believe and live within the reality that it is happening even now and that it can flourish only if we attentively allow God in. The “unexpected hour” is now; the Lord is coming toward us.

It is always worth waiting for someone you love. And as monks we’re made to live with that kind of expectation. Somehow our praying is our waiting, a constant vigil of the heart. It’s what we came for. And with loving expectation, the waiting is perhaps its own reward. We’re meant to live in incessant vigilance for Someone who is supremely worth our waiting. “Be like servants who await their master’s return from a wedding,” Jesus tells us this morning. 


For he is like that master returning home at a very late hour from a wedding feast. Perhaps a bit tipsy with the wine that was in ample supply. He knocks at the door. And he’s so delighted at being welcomed at that late hour, that he giddily tells his servants (that’s us) to sit down. And in an amazing reversal, he our master waits on us. And it’s not just a light late-night snack but an all-out feast. He sets the table and invites us to recline. (That’s a signal word, for in Jesus’ day, reclining was only for banquets, daily meals were taken seated at a table.) The message is clear: God's promised One is here to feed his people with as much as they want. Jesus is presiding at the banquet in the kingdom.

And then in thinly coded language, Jesus goes on to insinuate that he is like a thief, a real sneak. “Be sure of this: if the master of the house had known the hour when the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into. You also must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come.” He wants to break in. Having your house broken into means literally in the Greek, having it “burrowed through.” For in the Palestine of Jesus’ day, walls were made of mud bricks, and to break in all a thief had to do was dig through the wall. The message: Jesus is sneaking around trying to stage a break-in. He wants to come near; he’s trying to burrow through the thick wall of our resistance. That’s pretty sturdy material alright, and Mercy himself wants to blast right through, invade our space and suffuse it with his gracious presence. 

Vigilance is essential for us because the mystery of God’s presence is constantly revealed even as it is hidden. Jesus is always reversing things, trying to engage us in unexpected ways. Attentiveness is our way of being in the kingdom, because then with the eyes of faith, all of reality can become increasingly transparent to the surprising beauty of One who is always advancing toward us.

And in the end it seems to me, we are left with the greatest reversal of all – for it is God in Christ who is always waiting for us. He wants to wait on us, redeem us, unburden us. The question: Am I willing to bear in peace, the discomfort of being served so tenderly by Christ Jesus, as I come to see more and more clearly each day that as a sinner and a “repeat offender” I do not deserve such loving regard? 

Thank God,  it’s never been about what we deserve, or we’d all be in big trouble. Didn’t we learned that from the parable of the Prodigal Son? Remember that resentful older brother in the parable. He knows that his younger runaway brother does not deserve to be welcomed but disowned and punished for his disrespect and betrayal. And you know what, he’s absolutely right. But the Father doesn’t see it that way. The best robe, new shoes, the fatted calf, music and dancing; that’s what the Father wants. It makes no sense. But he’s been so very heartbroken, waiting and waiting for that boy to come back. And when he catches sight him, he runs out, panting, unembarrassed and heedless of losing his dignity; he hugs and kisses this lost son, burying his dear old face in the boy’s unwashed neck. My brothers and sisters, it’s never been about what we deserve. God is not fair. He is pure love, unrelenting, unmanageable, giddy with his joy over us his children. He is the one who waits; he will not stop loving, longing, and waiting, always waiting for us to come back to him, so he can serve us. It makes no sense. It’s not supposed to. Love makes no sense.

This is why we return here over and over- to let him wait on us. Liturgy means service, and it is first of all God’s service of us. Jesus has come to serve not be served. This is why we gather here. The divine Thief is always on the prowl; the Master is at the door. And so we open to him and with deep gratitude and humility we somehow have the sense to let go of our awful reserve and revel in our undeservedness and allow him to feed us with his best and most perfect gift.

Friday, August 8, 2025

God's Self-effacement

God is Almighty. But what is his power? It is the All-Powerlessness of Calvary that reveals the true nature of the All-Power of the infinite Being. The humility of love is the key: to show off, there was little need of power; to efface oneself one must be very powerful. God is unlimited power of self-effacement.


FRANÇOIS VARILLON The Humility and Suffering Of God

Wednesday, August 6, 2025

Arriving Together Before the Lord

You do not save your soul as you might save a treasured possession. You save it as you lose a treasured possession: in surrendering it. We must save ourselves collectively, we must arrive together before the good Lord. What would he say if we arrived before him, came home to him, without the others?


CHARLES PÉGUY

Monday, August 4, 2025

God’s Love is Not Earned

The most important thing you can say about God's love is that God loves us not because of anything we've done to earn that love, but because God, in total freedom, had decided to love us. At first sight, this doesn't seem to be very very inspiring; but if you reflect on it more deeply this thought can affect and influence your life greatly. We are inclined to see our whole existence in terms of quid pro quo. We assume that people will be nice to us if we are nice to them; that they will help us if we help them; that they will invite us if we invite them; that they will love us if we love them. And so the conviction is deeply rooted in us that being loved is something you have to earn. In our pragmatic and utilitarian times this conviction has become even stronger. We can scarcely conceive of getting something for nothing. Everything has to be worked for, even a kind word, an expression of gratitude, a sign of affection.


HENRI NOUWEN In My Own Words

Sunday, August 3, 2025

Affliction

In order to have the strength to contemplate affliction when we are afflicted, we need supernatural bread.


SIMONE WEIL Gravity and Grace

Friday, August 1, 2025

The Past and the Present

The past casts its shadow over the present whenever we brood about old failures and yesterday's choices. Of course we should ask God's forgiveness for our faults and should learn from them where appropriate. But once we've said we're sorry and meant it, that is enough. While seeking to make amends where possible for the harm we have caused, most of the time we should simply leave things in God's hands, trusting him to put everything right. We must put a stop to attitudes or thoughts that keep us from living trustingly in the present moment.


JACQUES PHILIPPE Interior Freedom

Wednesday, July 30, 2025

Where God’s Love is Concealed

So every day God works with us, calling us to repentance: “Oh that today you would hear his voice: Harden not your hearts…" (Ps 95:7-8). God speaks in various ways. He speaks through his Word, through the people with whom we live, through all sorts of circumstances, joyful and painful. We dread the latter especially. We know all too well that God has something to say to us in affliction, sickness, death or misfortune. If we still sense this fear in our heart, it is because as yet we have eyes only for the wrath of God, and this means we have not yet discovered how, behind the external signs of wrath, his immeasurable love is concealed.


ANDRÉ LOUF Tuning Into Grace 

Monday, July 28, 2025

Holy Liberty of Spirit

I have noticed that when we are very careful to mortify and humble ourselves in everything, we sometimes become depressed and less ready to serve God. This is a temptation which we can conquer by thinking that God only asks these things of us through love. We should aim at humbling ourselves to please God as a good friend tries to please his friend, or a son his father. There must be no constraint but a holy liberty of spirit, for this liberty is one of the best signs of true love. It is easy to do things which we know will please one whom we love.


ST. CLAUDE DE LA COLOMBIÈRE

Sunday, July 27, 2025

Homily — 17th Sunday C

When the disciples ask him to teach them to pray, Jesus does not offer method or technique. “I like to sit quietly in a deserted place, focus on my breathing, and simply relax…” No. He tells them to say something. Speak. “Say, Our Father…” Jesus the beloved Son teaches us that we are as he is, children of a loving, attentive Father. And if Jesus’ opponents often expressed shock and outrage that he dared to call God his very own Father, thus making himself equal with God. It is perhaps little less shocking that he advises us to pray as he prayed. Jesus places us within his relationship with God, a relationship marked by tenderness and confidence. 

And so each morning, at his command and formed by his divine teaching, we dare to say these words, to repeat Jesus’ own words. So accustomed to praying the Our Father, do we believe that we are doing something really daring? The prayer is not a formula but more a “shape, a pattern,” better still a situation. For when we pray the Our Father, we are situated with and in Jesus, thus intimately connected with God. We too are beloved children, and so we dare to pray with real confidence. 

And after naming God our Father, a series of petitions follows. In the first place we ask that God’s name be sanctified. This hallowing of God’s name expresses the ancient desire that all people be gathered into one and given a new heart filed with God’s Spirit, so that all nations may witness God’s blessings and so reverence God’s name. There then follow a further series of petitions: for the coming to birth of God’s reign of true shalom, then for bread, for forgiveness, not to be led into temptation and to be delivered from evil. We are putting demands on God, as we depend on his initiative.

And if in another place Jesus will tell us not to babble on in prayer “as the pagans do,” assuring us that God knows our needs before we speak, here he tells us to ask. Tell God what you want. And to amplify the message, Jesus will follow with a parable of a desperate friend who comes at midnight. Could God be at least as responsive as that grouch, unhappily roused from his sleep by the persistent knocking and entreaty of a friend at midnight? 

And it’s just what Abraham does in the First Reading with his relentless deal-making with God. There’s such tension in that passage, for even as Abraham is reverent and respectful as he repeats his requests, you fear God will suddenly lose his patience, get ticked off and tell Abraham, “Enough already.” But God does not. 

Could it be that God wants to be entreated so insistently? Apparently so because he continues to comply with Abraham’s persistent pleading. And it seems Abraham knows his relationship with God can tolerate it. Perhaps we could even say that the relationship demands it. Abraham has chutzpah, that’s the Yiddish word derived from the original Hebrew, meaning nerve, audacity. It’s daring and in-your-face.. 

This is just what Jesus emphasizes in that parable of the persistent friend this morning. The friend who just won’t back down and keeps knocking.  That’s chutzpah. The actual word used in the parable is the Greek a-nai’-daya; it means shameless persistence, refusing to take no for an answer. Could Jesus be telling us that our relationship with a loving Father God demands such chutzpah? 

It brings to mind that little widow demanding her rights from the corrupt judge. “Because this widow keeps bothering me,” he says. “I will see that she gets justice, so that she won’t eventually come back and hit me with her handbag.” Or that Syrophoenician woman. “Alright,” she says to Jesus. “Call me a dog if you want, but even the dogs get the scraps. Give me a scrap.” It’s all about persistence and a faith that asks for more.

Prayer can never be a time for ambivalence but daring desire. A great confidence, audacity grounded in our belovedness. The relationship that prayer is puts us in our place as sons and daughters of a loving Father who wants to hear. As children of our Father we know our incompleteness, our utter dependence on him for everything, and so we ask.

I am reminded of my first retreat. First meeting, I sit across from the director, and he advises me to tell the Lord what I want, what is my deepest desire, in my heart of hearts. “Oh no,” I assure him. “I’ve read a lot of Thomas Merton books. He says you don’t do that, you just trust and open your heart, and you know, you pray.” “That’s great,” says this priest. “I love Merton. Read a lot of his books myself. Terrific author. Now go tell God what you want and get back to me tomorrow morning.” I did. Things happened. For when we acknowledge our deepest desires, we step into God’s desire for us. For he wants our good. In our prayer we are not trying to wrestle God to the ground. We beg earnestly, with chutzpah and we trust his desire for us.

Our prayer even at its most apophatic, in its greatest simplicity and deepest imageless quietude, no matter how far beyond words and concepts is always grounded in our deepest desiring. Ultimately we seek union, the consummation of our relationship to God, that Jesus assures us is ours in our Father.  Joyfully falling backwards into the Father’s attention, into the Spirit’s groaning on our behalf, into the Son’s ceaseless pleading for us, we surrender. Jesus is the Father’s best gift to us, the Heart of all desire, let us go up again to this altar to receive him our Daily Bread. 

Friday, July 25, 2025

Don't Rack Your Brains

When you are praying, don't rack your brains to find words. On many occasions the simple, monotonous stammering of children has satisfied their Father who is in heaven. Don't bother to be loquacious less the mind is bewildered in the search for words. The tax-collector gained the Lord's forgiveness with a single sentence, and a single word charged with faith was the salvation of the robber. Loquacity in prayer often fills the head with foolish fancies and provokes distractions. Brevity on the other hand (sometimes only one word is enough), in general favours recollection.


JOHN CLIMACUS Stairway to Paradise, 28

Wednesday, July 23, 2025

Selfless Love

Love makes us free if it is selfless, and it is selfless if it is ready to sacrifice pleasure, advantage and independence for the sake of the beloved.  And since no earthly love is initially perfect, it must go through these purifications. Moments and times must come when love is tested through sacrifice, when it becomes clear whether the enthusiasm of the first encounter was love at all, when the naïve first love—if it really was love—is refined and deepened in the fire of renunciation.


HANS URS VON BALTHASAR Prayer, 128

Monday, July 21, 2025

The Word of God and Poverty

The beginning of the path of life is continually to exercise the intellect in the words of God, and to live in poverty. For when a man waters himself with one, it aids in the perfection of the other. That is to say, to water yourself with the study of the words of God helps you in achieving poverty, while achieving freedom from possessions affords you the time to attain to constant study of the words of God. But the help provided by both of them speedily erects the entire edifice of the virtues.


ST. ISAAC THE SYRIAN Ascetical Homilies, 1

Friday, July 18, 2025

Conversion

Conversion always means a break with the past and an entry upon a new world. In no way does conversion constitute a stopping-place; nor does it bring the repose and satisfaction of a goal attained. Faith is never ready-made and finished. Our knowledge continually needs to be renewed. The life of faith always demands an active fidelity.

YVES DE MONTCHEUIL, SJ

Wednesday, July 16, 2025

Prayer

If you want to pray, you need God, who gives prayer to one who prays.


EVAGRIUS OF PONTUS On Prayer, 59

Monday, July 14, 2025

When You Dream of Happiness

It is Jesus you seek when you dream of happiness; he is waiting for you when nothing else you find satisfies you; he is the beauty to which you are so attracted; it is he who provokes you with that thirst for fullness that will not let you settle for compromise; it is he who urges you to shed the masks of a false life; it is he who reads in your hearts your most genuine choices, the choices that others try to stifle. It is Jesus who stirs in you the desire to do something great with your lives, the will to follow an ideal, the refusal to allow yourselves to be grounded down by mediocrity, the courage to commit yourselves humbly and patiently to improving yourselves and society, making the world more human and more fraternal.

POPE JOHN PAUL II

Friday, July 11, 2025

Homily — Feast of Saint Benedict

No one is to pursue what he judges better for himself, but instead, what he judges better for someone else. RB 72.7

Today’s Gospel is situated in the midst of Jesus’ final discourse to his disciples at the Last Supper. By this point in the meal, Jesus has alluded to his coming Passion, saying to them at the opening, “I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer…” (Lk 22:15), he has instituted the Eucharist in the offering of bread and wine, and he has just revealed that he is to be betrayed by one them at table with him. With this news, the disciples begin to question one another, “asking which of them it was that would do this.”

Jesus had warned them of his coming passion, saying in his second passion prediction back in chapter nine, “Let these words sink into your ears, for the Son of man is to be delivered into the hands of men” but, as the narrator tells us, “…they did not understand this saying, and it was concealed from them, that they should not perceive it; and they were afraid to ask him about this saying.” (Lk 9:44-45). 

Now it appears that the inconceivable, that God’s anointed should suffer at the hands of men, is not only a possibility but an imminent reality that is now pressing down upon them. Moreover, this evil will be initiated not from some obvious and external enemy but as a deliberate act of betrayal from within their own company. 

They look about the room at one another, as people whose personal and communal sense of identity has been thrown into confusion. The common reference points around which they have been accustomed to ordering their understanding of God, world, neighbor and God’s chosen people Israel have been upended, yet they have not yet grasped what is to be set up in its place. So they grasp about for something to hold on to. 

At this point, our Gospel begins, “Then an argument broke out among them about which of them should be regarded as the greatest.”

With all these relationships in disarray from their point of view, they turn to one another, but now not like a community in process of formation by Jesus, but more like a group of individuals striving against one another in a futile attempt to reestablish order among themselves but from no other source than themselves. The Greek word, translated here as “argument” is “philoneikia” and appears only here in the NT. It means first of all “love of strife, contention” but it can also mean “love of victory”, “desire for glory”. 

Succumbing to the “love of strife and contention”, they have separated themselves from the way of Jesus, which in its own right, is a love of victory and a desire for glory, but his victory is the victory of the Cross and his desire for glory is the glorification of the Father. His way is not that of strife and contention but of peace. 

Jesus intervenes in order to steers the disciples back to his way, by placing it in contrast to worldly social models built on power and domination. 

“Benefactor” was a common term in the surrounding Greek culture of the time that in the words of biblical scholar James Edwards, “identifies a widespread class of individuals of power, position and means who celebrated themselves and were celebrated by others in public places.” The apostles would have recognized this title immediately and as members of an oppressed class who suffered under these individuals would have been quick to disassociate themselves from this term and its implications.

In Jesus’ model, the greatest are to be as though they were the youngest, like a child in antiquity, one who has no status of his own. Or like a servant who places himself lower than those whom he serves, as though they were greater, like one who serves those who sit at table. This is the way of Jesus himself. He is among them as the one who serves.

The question for us this morning is how does St. Benedict help us in a practical way to be a community that faces its trials and difficulties, including the small ones of daily life, without succumbing to the human tendency to fall back on the way of strife and contention but walk the way of transformation with Jesus, the path to true victory and glory through humble service in the patience of the Cross?

I suppose we could say that the whole of his Rule that strives to bring this about. It’s basically its purpose. Be that as it may, I propose that a good entry point is the great chapter 72 of the Rule, The Good Zeal of Monks, and its presentation of the classical “two ways”. 

The way of “philoneikia”, “argument”, would correspond to “the evil zeal of bitterness” that leads to hell, whereas the way of Jesus, humble service, would correspond to the good zeal, “which separates from evil and leads to God and everlasting life.” 

We can get a better grasp of the content of this “good zeal” in all its fullness if we read this chapter backward from v. 11, that is, “Let them prefer nothing whatever to Christ”. For he is “good zeal”, it’s source, embodiment and full realization of all of the prescriptions in this chapter, which serves a kind of summation of the whole Rule. 

“Zeal” indicates intense striving. Good zeal, St. Benedicts says, must be practiced with “ferventissimo amore”, the most ardent love. It is the soul that has been overtaken by this most ardent love that is able to drive out the promptings of evil zeal from the heart. The love of contention and strive that the apostles experienced we can arouse easily enough on our own, but this most ardent love for the good zeal that is Christ is a gift, always only the fruit of grace. 

St. Benedict grounds the practice of this good zeal in chapter 12 of St. Paul’s letter to the Romans: They should each try to be the first to show respect to the other (Rm 12:10). This striving after mutual respect is a competition for a new kind of greatness in which everyone is raised up and that builds community. A greatness that is that is rooted in the dignity of the human person and his true status as being “in Christ.” 

Many things could be said about each of the verses of this rich chapter, but I will conclude with v. 7, as a practical example of good zeal, which St. Benedict places at the center of Chapter and which Aquinata Bockmann claims is the goal toward which the whole of the Rule wishes to train us: “No one is to follow what he judges useful to himself, but what seems more useful to the other.”

To follow what I judge more useful to myself is to allow myself to be guided by ego-centric choices that may seem good to me and to my fulfillment and happiness, but do not actually have their origin in Christ and are thus exercised outside of him and place us at the margins of the community as his body. 

It is matter of being habitually turned to the other in a self-forgetfulness that truly sees the other in the light of Christ and is ready to serve him in this light. It means seeing my brother not first of all as someone that needs to be changed according to some personal ideal but being open to seeing him in his uniqueness, in his mystery in Christ, as someone whose qualities, abilities, history and so on are different than mine. In him there is a ray of the divine glory that is to be discovered as well as the reality of what St. Benedict says in the next verse, weaknesses of body and character that are to be borne with the utmost patience. 

This task is easier to the degree that each of us recognizes in himself his own weaknesses and need to be borne with with the utmost patience. For in some respect each of us is weak and each of us is strong. It is from this self-knowledge that we can genuinely see ourselves as lower than the others and look up to them. Here, it is helpful to recall the seventh step of humility: if we see ourselves as the least and believe it in our hearts it is quite natural to give honor to others. 

Lastly, St. Benedict concludes this chapter with the words, “and may he bring us altogether to everlasting life.” The Lord leads us “all together”.  When I love my brother with good zeal, I walk along with him at his side, at his pace, speeding up where I need to or slowing down where it is called for, always attentive to what is useful to him, and always mindful that it is “all together” and not simply as individuals that Christ is leading us to everlasting life. 

St. Benedict shows us the path in service of the true king, Christ the Lord, victor over sin and death, who leads on to everlasting glory. 

Let us pray that the Lord may bring about this mystery among us. 

Prayer is of the Heart

We are seeking in our prayers that God might be attentive to us, according to the text: Be attentive to me and hear me (Ps 55:3). Now how likely is it that he will do this, if we are not attentive to ourselves? It is from the heart that prayer takes most of its power. According to Saint Isidore: "Prayer is of the heart, not of the lips." For God does not attend merely to the words of the one beseeching him, but he looks rather on the heart of the man who prays. So the man who does not have his heart in his prayer takes away from prayer what is best in it. So it is clear from all this that the heart’s intention is necessary in prayer. So that this may be more easily done, the heart must be first recollected when one comes to pray.


BLESSED HUMBERT OF ROMANS, O.P.

Wednesday, July 9, 2025

Self-knowledge

When a house is shut up, the sun's ray's do not enter, and so we don't see how much dust is found therein. But when the sun's rays penetrate, we soon realize how full of dust the house is. Self-knowledge is just such a ray...

ST. ANTHONY OF PADUA

Monday, July 7, 2025

The Holy Eucharist

Let us learn the wonder of this sacrament, the purpose of its institution, the effects it produces. We become a single body, according to Scripture, members of his flesh and bone of his bones. This is what is brought about by the food that he gives us. He blends himself with us so that we may all become one single entity in the way the body is joined to the head.


JOHN CHRYSOSTOM Homily on John, 46

Sunday, July 6, 2025

Homily — Cistercian Disciples

Pentecost happened four weeks ago, and Ordinary Time started the next day, but today is the first Sunday in Ordinary Time on which we are not celebrating a particular solemnity of the Church Year. It’s the first truly ordinary Sunday in Ordinary Time this year. I remember how Father Eddy used to breathe a sigh of relief around this time and exclaim with a big smile: “Thank God for Ordinary Time!” Beyond no longer needing to worry about special Easter texts and rubrics, he understood that Ordinary Time has a special character of its own. It isn’t a blank liturgical period. Though he never said so explicitly, I would guess that what Father Eddy had in mind was that, after we have delved deeply over many months into the mysteries of our salvation as lived by the Lord Jesus, now comes the moment when we are invited to hunker down personally and live these mysteries ourselves, in our “ordinary, obscure and laborious” Cistercian existence. Ordinary Time urges us to make the Paschal Mystery permeate our concrete, ordinary circumstances. Despite the mostly nose-to-the-grind exterior of our life, it is only here that our mystical transformation into other Christs can take place.  

Today’s reading from the Gospel of Luke gives us the perfect theme to explore the actualization of the Paschal Mystery in our lives: namely, Christian discipleship, the existence of those Jesus first calls to himself as disciples and then sends out as apostles after making them into “a new creation in the Spirit”. For us monks, discipleship means specifically Cistercian discipleship, a topic of great relevance as we enter our yearly retreat today as a community and ponder our specific charism. 

Christ Jesus himself is, in a real sense, the one and only Apostle, the One sent forth from the Father as bearer of the world’s salvation. And yet he has chosen to share his redemptive mission with us through our active participation in it. No one, least of all we monks, can honestly bear the name of Christian without becoming a disciple through intimacy with the Lord and then sharing, as apostle, in Christ’s mission to save the world.

Today’s gospel contains a rich teaching concerning the particulars of Christian mission. The disciples are explicitly sent out to prepare the way for the coming of Jesus into people’s lives. Our mission, whether visible or hidden, is always a clearing of the way for the person of Jesus so that he will come to mean to others what he already means to us. The Lord is himself the greatest treasure we possess, the Peace that inhabits our hearts; and the quality of our love for both Jesus and others is shown by the intensity of our desire to share that treasure with everyone. The disciples are sent out two by two because our fraternal communion with one another as disciples is already in itself a manner of proclaiming the nearness of the Kingdom. In this Kingdom, interpersonal communion and joyful unity reign supreme as the visible realities that best reflect God’s Trinitarian nature as continual circulation of love. The very heart of Jesus’ Gospel is love, and this truth can best be witnessed to not primarily through words but through lived relationships by persons who help and support one another, who find the meaning of their individual lives within a God-established network of relationships. In our lives as Christians, we are called to become the visibility of Jesus as the loving Heart of God’s Kingdom. Such should be the witness borne by the monastery as an ecclesiola or “small local church”.

Those whom Jesus sends out are very few indeed, considering the enormity of the harvest, and they are not given many provisions and even fewer certainties. The disciples are poor, a tiny minority hidden in a huge mass of people, and their existence is precarious. All of this, in and of itself, is obviously quite negative; and yet Luke presents these facts not at all as regrettable obstacles impeding the mission but, paradoxically, as the very conditions that Jesus himself imposes on the mission! The poverty of those sent, it seems, is meant to underscore the fact that the Christian mission has to be enacted by the whole of a person, with nothing held back, and relying on none of the gimmicks (like colorful appeal and guarantees of success) that the world considers essential. The apostles are, after all, proclaiming the Word made flesh, and so it isn’t enough for them to lack sufficient means: they must be poor in actual fact. Nor is it enough for them to proclaim the Kingdom of God with words: they must actually be men of God. And it isn’t enough for them to proclaim peace: they must actually be peace-makers. 

All the requirements made of the disciples by Jesus are, thus, at the level of personal identity and existence. At bottom, the many necessary actions and words of Jesus’ followers have to flow forth from their unique personhood as Christians, that is, from their joyful and vital symbiosis with the Lord Jesus. Their ministry does not at heart have to do with pre-set official functions performed exteriorly, or with precisely worded formulas and definitions, divorced from personal experience. Their highly personal identification with Christ—the fruit of grace, prayer and intense struggle—is what enables the disciples to truly become lambs who follow the Lamb of God himself wherever he goes, and who therefore offer themselves as an oblation in union with Christ. 

When you are poor in fact and not only in theory, then, as an evangelist, you have only yourself to give away, as conformed with the Word of God living in you. “Mission” has meaning only if it is but a single thing with the following of Christ. This truth has particular significance for us Cistercian monks that we are. Our special contemplative mission in the Church has nothing to do with going out physically from the monastery into the world, but everything to do with our actually becoming conformed with Christ in our inner being. The brunt of our monastic missionary effort consists in concentrating all the energies of our heart on intimate union with Christ, so that the Lord may then take the substance of our surrendered being and do with it as he wishes throughout the body of humanity and the cosmos.

And yet, we monks are very ordinary human beings, living physically in this world for the time being and, thus, coming into contact more or less directly with all sorts of people. In faith we believe that Jesus is subtly “sending us out” to every person we encounter in whatever manner. In every case, the personal poverty and vulnerability we have deliberately embraced by our vows can become the space where God’s Spirit is manifested. Radical poverty, both material and spiritual, freely embraced, brings with it extraordinary power: Lord, even the demons are subject to us because of your Name. The disciples have renounced all earthly power and personal influence, and therefore the power of God is free to work the most splendid things through them. And the disciples’ necessarily self-effacing attitude makes their mission to be a non-threatening invitation to those who welcome them. They, therefore, inspire trust. Through their smallness as individuals, they open up a space for the miracle of conversion to Jesus. The witness of their own harmony of hearts, furthermore, shows clearly that authentically lived Christian faith drives out all fear, distrust and mutual recrimination. Where faith dwells, a truly Edenic condition flourishes which all rational beings yearn for. Isaiah embodies this condition of pure, universal joy in a glorious vision of Jerusalem as mother of all nations, where God will spread prosperity like a river and all may suck fully of the milk of her abundant breasts, a vision made real at this Eucharist.

Jesus does not send out missionaries who carry food, clothing or money to the needy. Rather, he sends persons without any money or provisions. The only thing they take with them is the all-sufficient Word of the Kingdom, which proclaims the necessity of conversion. This conversion has such urgency that the disciples musn’t waste any time along the way, greeting people and engaging in idle chatter. The radical Jesus excludes everything non-essential from the disciples’ words and actions, and this gives their mission a very ascetical, almost monastic flavor. Those Jesus sends are bearers of nothing but the living and naked Word, a Word they are called to embody in their existence as other Christs. This requires of them that, like St Paul, they never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world. Being Jesus’ intimate companion on the redemptive cross is both the form and the means of the Cistercian monk’s apostolate, which as such never requires that he leave the enclosure. Welcome, at last, to Ordinary Time! 

Saturday, July 5, 2025

The Last Judgment

The Last Judgment will come when Christ returns in glory. Only the Father knows the day and the hour; only he determines the moment of its coming. Then through his Son Jesus Christ he will pronounce the final word on all history. We shall know the ultimate meaning of the whole work of creation and of the entire economy of salvation and understand the marvelous ways by which his Providence led everything towards its final end. The Last Judgment will reveal that God's justice triumphs overall the injustices committed by his creatures and that God's love is stronger than death.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1040

Thursday, July 3, 2025

A Holy Calling

Do not be afraid to set your sights higher, to allow yourself to be loved and liberated by God. Do not be afraid to let yourself be guided by the Holy Spirit. Holiness does not make you less human, since it is an encounter between your weakness and the power of God's grace. For in the words of Leon Bloy, when all is said and done, "the only great tragedy in life, is not to become a saint.”


POPE FRANCIS Gaudete et Exultate

Sunday, June 29, 2025

Homily — Saints Peter & Paul

Today’s solemnity honors two conversions that underpin the entire foundation of the Church. Two saints who were converted, literally turned around, by their discovery of mercy, better still by their discovery that they were discovered by Mercy in the person of Christ Jesus the innocent victim, who though he has suffered and died for his people’s sinfulness comes back from the dead without recrimination as forgiving victim. In fact he absolutely refuses not to forgive. This continues to astound and unnerve us just as it did Peter and Paul. Because if God will not punish us, we often try to figure out ways to punish ourselves because of our guilt. But God in Christ will have none of that. None of it. He returns from the dead full of wounds and speaks only, “Peace.” It does not mean nothing happened, too much has happened; sin has made a horrendous mess of his body, but forgiveness is more powerful. This is the confusing grace and ridiculous truth that both Peter and Paul experience in Christ. And we are invited as Church to find ourselves as they did, within the overwhelming reality of a wounded, resurrected and forgiving God. 


Peter says he is ready to die with Jesus; then betrays him in a heartbeat to save his skin. “Wait a minute; you’re one of that Galilean’s followers,” says the maid in the high priest’s courtyard. “I’d know that accent anywhere.” “Get out of here,” Peter mutters. “I don't know who you’re talking about.” Meanwhile, Jesus is next door being slapped, ridiculed and roughed up by soldiers. Regret over this will break Peter’s heart. But the risen Jesus will appear to him first of all the disciples, without any hint of blaming. And later he will forgive Peter over breakfast at another charcoal fire on a beach, as he gratefully receives Peter’s confession, “Lord, you know well that I love you.” Peter’s heart has been transformed.


And Paul. Well, as an expert in the Law, he knows that Jesus the blasphemer has been rightly executed for leading the people astray. So he has been ruthlessly tracking down Jesus' followers, dragging them from their homes to prison and persecution, and most recently cheering on those who stone the deacon Stephen. But soon during a journey northeast to Damascus, in a blinding light the resurrected Jesus will introduce himself to him with a heartbreaking question, “Saul, why do you persecute me?” The God who is purely and unambiguously love has raised this Jesus from the dead; the Law has been fulfilled and radically eclipsed in the person of Jesus the forgiving victim. Paul the angry persecutor becomes Paul the messenger of grace.

Peter and Paul have hurtled headlong into divine Mercy. And so they must revise their whole lives; for a deeply affective personal love for Christ now grounds their entire existence. They have fallen in love. Their encounter and ongoing relationship with Jesus have transformed, reformed them. And it is this radical reprioritization that gives such power and authenticity to their preaching and ultimately leads them most willingly, even joyfully to suffer the loss of all things even their very lives for Christ’s sake. Paul will say it best, “All I want to know is Christ Jesus and him crucified and the power flowing from his resurrection.” Surely Peter would agree. 


Today we celebrate with joy what mercy can accomplish in hearts emptied, made available to Christ because of bitter self-knowledge. Neither Peter nor Paul have anything to boast about but their dependence on Christ. For Peter and Paul, as for each of us, the resurrected Innocent Victim will always be “made present to us as forgiveness.” Willing at last to admit that we have reached the limits of our own prowess and possibilities, we no longer need to “fortify ourselves against” our own shabby embarrassing truth. Perhaps then with our hearts broken open, we will be ready to surrender like Peter and Paul, finally able to make ample space for the incomprehensibility of grace, because we realize that we like them have nothing to boast about except our dependence on Christ Jesus.


Finally, Jesus’ question to Peter and to each of us in this morning’s Gospel, situates us with him, poised to listen to our Master as he whispers this most compelling question, “Who do you say that I am? Who am I for you? What is your experience of me in your life, in your history?” What will each of us answer? Perhaps when we come to understand ourselves as sinners desperately beloved by God in Christ and found by his mercy incessantly, then with Peter we can say, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” For as forgiving victim, Jesus, ever marked by his wounds, has radically reinterpreted and expanded the meaning of Messiah. 


He, who is our Lord and Master, invites us once again to feast on his Body and Blood.