Archive for the 'Sacrifice' Category

Teach Me to Labor

theophilus June 29th, 2009

I came across a prayer attributed to St. Ignatius a while back -

“Lord, teach me to be generous.  Teach me to serve you as you deserve.  To give and not count the cost.  To fight and not heed the wounds.  To toil and not seek for rest.  To labor and not ask for reward, save for knowing that I am doing your will.”

I know someone who is trying to live the last phrase of that prayer – “To labor and not ask for reward, save for knowing that I am doing your will.”

He is doing something that will result in others gain, yet he will probably not be rewarded for it.  He is doing something that will benefit many, yet his family questions his career path.  There is always the question left unsaid, but always hanging in the air, as to whether he should be doing something more distinguished or of greater monetary worth.

Yet, he has confided in me that he truly believes that he is doing God’s will.  He is exactly where God needs him.  He is laboring for Christ.

I told him about St. Ignatius’ prayer because I realized he is trying to live it.  He is trying so hard to keep from falling into the chasm of self-pity where he will crave reward for his labor.  He is trying to satisfy himself with the reward of knowing that he is doing God’s will; he is serving Christ.  I can tell that it is not easy.

And I reminded him that it doesn’t matter whether we measure up in someone else’s eyes; whether we are doing what others expect of us.  What matters if whether we are doing what God wants us to do; whether we measure up to what Christ expects of us.

The saints lived the prayer of St. Ignatius; each and every phrase.  We are called to do the same.

We all are called to be generous and serve and give and fight and toil and labor; but not to count the cost or heed the wounds or seek for rest or ask for reward.  We are all called to just serve Christ and do God’s will.  We are all called to be a saint.

Thirty Years On

theophilus January 18th, 2009

I envision thirty years from now that I’m taking my grandson golfing.  Over a putt, I’m telling him about great men; those who rose above their limitations and fears; those who were equal to the demands of their times; those who were forthright, courageous, honest, strong.

I will tell my grandson that no matter what is happening around him, he must rise and be the man that God expects him to be.

And I know that I will tell him of a man who was called upon in a time of great trial for our nation; when we were viciously attacked with a promise of worst attacks to come.

This man took on the challenge and did so with a fervent belief that God put him in this place, at this time, to do His will.  He awoke each morning and asked God what he needed to do to protect the hundreds of millions of people put in his care.  He went to bed every night and said a prayer of thanksgiving that, for the most part, these people entrusted to him were safe and secure.

This man looked at the threats throughout the world and did his best to address each one of them; with a focus on not only protecting his own people but on bringing liberty, peace and security to those around the world.

This man’s goal was to bring to the world the peace and joy promised us throughout Scriptures.

And, yet, this man was viciously attacked personally and done so from all segments.  He was maligned and distorted by Americans on foreign soil, foreigners on American soil, those who were supposed to be his supporters, and those who had a stake in a political agenda to bring him down and vilify him as the worst of mankind.

And he persevered through it all.  He was unpopular, mischaracterized, mocked, belittled and demeaned.  He made a great many mistakes.  But he kept going; trying to do what was best for the people he was called to serve; trying to remind himself that Christ was handed worst treatment.

I hope to teach my grandson that he needs to stand up for what he believes; no matter the cost.  That sometimes doing God’s will isn’t easy and that one’s reputation may be shredded in the process.  That being a real man of Christ entails sacrifice and faith; no matter the opposition arrayed against him.

I trust that I will teach him of a certain man, but do we realize that this man has existed in our time?

I fear that we do not.

Thank you, President Bush.  Well done, God’s good and faithful servant.

St. Martin of Tours & Veterans Day

theophilus November 11th, 2008

In all of the attempts to get God out of our public lives, it amazes me how God always manages to slip one by us.

It occured to me this morning that today is both the Feast of St. Martin of Tours, 4th century soldier turned bishop, and the anniversary of the cessation of hostilities in World War I.  It’s the latter that has led to the long-standing holidays of Veterans Day in the U.S., Armistice Day in Europe, and Remembrance Day throughout the British Commonwealth.

I find great irony that we honor today both veterans throughout the world and St. Martin, the patron saint of soldiers.  Somehow God found a way to get us to link the two. 

Our own soldiers are in need of our prayers.  They are proud, dedicated, selfless, patriotic and duty-bound.  They are quite simply the best we have to offer here in America. 

In the past week, I’ve spoken with the fiancee of someone who just got back from Iraq and the father of one still over there.  For various reasons, they are wondering whether we back home really care about what they are doing over there. 

They are busting their butts to protect us, often reupping for additional tours of duty, but we seem preoccupied with other things.  They are acheiving victory despite our best efforts to get in their way, yet we refuse to acknowledge the good work they are doing in bringing peace and security, and liberty and freedom, to the people of Iraq and Afghanistan.

If you know someone currently serving, say a prayer today to St. Martin that they be kept safe and succeed in their mission.  Also pray for their families.  If you know someone who has served this nation (ever), say a prayer for them in thanksgiving for their sacrifice. 

We literally owe them our freedom, our liberty, our fortunes (no matter how small), and our lives.  Let us never forget them and what they have done for us.

Candy Collectors on Beggars Night

theophilus October 31st, 2008

Just got back from taking my candy collectors out on Beggars Night – or at least that is the new terminology used by our suburban newspaper.  Go figure.

Today is, of course, the last day of October – the Month of the Holy Rosary.  And I’m thrilled that I somehow prayed the Rosary every day this month.   It’s the longest stretch I’ve ever managed and I have found a peace and trust that was alluding me as October dawned. 

Throughout October, I have found myself becoming more devotional and committed to my conversation with God.  I’m not exactly praying morning, noon and night; but I have stepped up my prayer life in a way I never thought would be possible or necessary.

I have fasted at times, been more attentive at Mass and more focused at Eucharistic Adoration.  I’ve prayed the novenas flying around the blogosphere.  I’ve prayed the Divine Mercy Chaplet.  I’ve been more contemplative in praying the Liturgy of the Hours. 

And I do believe that all of these attempts to talk to and hear from God are necessary.  This nation, this Shining City on a Hill, is at a point where we will either become a nation continually blessed by God or one separated from him.

Sometime ago, we started interpreting freedom of religion as being the exclusion of religion.  Some started talking about the separation of church and state and their talk began sounding more like they wanted a separation of God from public life altogether.

And once we started to separate God from our public life, he started disappearing from our private lives as well.  The result has been a culture so toxic and so broken that it has left debris everywhere from the Baby Boomers to each successive generation.  Our teenagers are now only starting to pay their price for our misplaced priorities.

So, what do we do?  We pray, and then pray, and then pray some more.  We recognize our individual guilt in the worsening of our culture; whether that guilt is direct or indirect, by commission or omission.

I’ve been praying the past few weeks for forgiveness.  I’m not a bad person.  I’ve done my best to not support a culture gone wrong.  But have I done enough?  Have I allowed myself to financially support, either directly or indirectly, those institutions which produce and facilitate this stuff?  Have I done enough to stand up for the very simple notion that right is right and wrong is wrong, especially when it comes to the sanctity of life and the marriage covenant?  Have I given into the desire to be entertained no matter the message being sent?  Have I misplaced my priorities?  Do I rely too much on the comforts of this world?

God is asking us to choose; right here, right now.  I really don’t think he is going to give us too many more chances. 

This point is reinforced each morning in the Liturgy of the Hours, which begins each day with Psalm 95.  The verses that always get me are the following:

“Today, listen to the voice of the Lord: do not grow stubborn, as your fathers did in the wilderness, when at Meriba and Massah they challenged me and provoked me, although they had seen all my works.  Forty years I endured that generation.  I said, ‘They are a people whose hearts go astray and they do not know my ways.’  So I swore in my anger, ‘They shall not enter into my rest.’”

Too many of us have stopped listening to the “voice of the Lord.”  Too many have grown stubborn.  We challenge God and provoke him.  God has been patient, but he may soon decide that we are beyond help; that our hearts go astray and we do not know his ways.  He may soon decide to just let us wander around.

So, as I’ve gone through this month, I’ve been burdened by my fear that God will turn his back on us and leave us to sink in our own mire.  But as this month progressed, and the Rosary decades started adding up, I became aware that this month of prayer and fasting was giving me a profound sense of hope that we can turn it around.  We can create a culture that is healthy for our kids or a constructive force in our own lives.

Today’s Morning Prayer included Psalm 51 (the Miserere Mei), the one King David wrote after Nathan called him on the carpet for his affair with Bathsheba and his complicity in having, Uriah, her husband killed.  It’s a powerful plea for forgiveness.  When I prayed it this morning, I found myself substituting the second person for the first person (”we” instead of “I” and “us” instead of “me”).  I found myself praying for our nation, for our people. 

As this month of October comes to a close and we turn our attention to the month of November, the month of saints, all souls, and thanksgiving; it is a good time for us to think about whether we are preparing ourselves for life eternal and whether we are helping our fellow travelers to do the same.  The state of our culture is a vital measure in determining the adequacy of our preparations.

I’m betting we can get this thing turned around.  If we turn back to God; if we listen to his voice.

One Soul

theophilus October 23rd, 2008

I went to Eucharistic Adoration today.  It’s become part of my regular Thursday routine.  I sometimes doze off (peace, quiet and serenity is so rare in my home that I naturally can’t help myself when the opportunity presents itself).  But today I stayed awake long enough to notice that we had a little bit of a crowd in the chapel.

And I realized that I’m not a lone soul. 

When I go to adoration, there are others there, no matter the time.  When I go to Friday mass at St. Gertrude across town, the place is packed.  When I go to the Cathedral for confession, I invariably have to stand in a long line.

For some reason, I’ve felt the need to periodically fast – and might even think about putting on sackcloth and ashes if I knew where to buy them – because I believe God is testing us in these times to see if we still care.  And I see that others in the St. Blogosphere are doing the same thing.

I’ve felt the need to really deepen my prayer life because I just need to talk to God in these uncertain times, and I’ve noticed novenas (here, here and here) flying around the web.

And then I watch videos like this one, and I am reminded of my responsibilities to God as a member-servant of the Body of Christ and as a citizen-servant in the greatest nation he has ever created.

So many in today’s society want to make us believe that we are alone (and I’ll leave it to you to discern whether you belong to the “us” and the “we”).  And we fail miserably if we let them succeed in making us feel that it’s us against the world.

Christ warned us that there would be times like the present.  He warned us that there would be times when things would not appear as they seemed; when we could not determine the falsehoods from the truth.  He warned us that this discipleship wouldn’t always be smooth and easy.

We must trust him, talk to him, and do what is right on our end.  And then pray that others do the same.

Tropical Storm Ike Hits the Queen City

theophilus September 18th, 2008

I don’t know what’s going on but, over the past week, I’ve noticed that I’ve been getting a great number of reads on my July post concerning the Brown Scapular.  Interesting.  I wonder if Mary is doing some calling.

I’m finally back on track after the Great Queen City Blackout of 2008.  Sunday afternoon, Tropical Storm Ike roared through Cincinnati.  Tropical storms are not supposed to hit the Ohio Valley.  Except for a week or so in August, we can never be confused with the tropics. 

In any case, between noon and six o’clock, unprecedented winds blew through and 90% of the region lost power.  Only 50% were back online as of yesterday morning.  The rest should be back on today and tomorrow, unless there is a structural problem with the lines.  We were lucky and had our power back on early Tuesday morning.  For a while, gas stations, stores, restaurants, traffic lights, all were left without power.

And, believe it or not, I feel blessed by the experience.  I lost about 50 shingles, the top of a lamp post, my patio table, and the contents of my refrigerator/freezer - but that is all.  While others were faced with the loss of ancient trees, sections of roofs, and siding, I was only inconvenienced by not having access to all of the things that electrical power miraculously provides to us but that we nevertheless take for granted (most notably, my morning coffee). 

In return, I received some non-TV, non-video game time with my wife and kids.  (We actually played cards and other games).  I got some sleep.  I got to appreciate the quiet.  I took note that God blessed us with a full moon and clear skies this week. 

I was extremely appreciative when I was able to find a working gas station on Monday when I had an empty tank (I was in an honest-to-goodness gas line); when we were able to find an open Meier’s to get dry foods and batteries; and when we were able to find an open U.S. Bank so we could get some cash (both of us were tapped out).  Before we found the bank, we found one of the few McDonald’s open for lunch and I was appreciative when my credit card worked.  We waited in line a half-hour for McDonald’s, which is my least favorite place to eat but it was one of the better burgers I’ve had. 

I laughed on Sunday night when I saw a little Chinese restaurant open with the line out the door.  I laughed at myself when I realize that we tried to get a T-ball game started on Sunday afternoon with the field looking like a dust bowl and the poor kids on my team struggling to stand up against the wind (we quickly gave up).

I was appreciative that our water still worked and that it was hot.  I was appreciative when I looked at the front page of USA Today, saw the devastation in Texas, and realized they faced winds and rain twice the strength of what hit us, and that they would be without power for a month and would have to rebuild, not just repair. 

I was appreciative that I got to teach my kids about the pleasures and privileges they enjoy and how lucky we are.  I was appreciative of the lantern type light that my mother-in-law had just given my son as a toy, which made for a perfect light for our bedroom.  I was appreciative when I found a car power cord for my Blackberry.  I was thankful that the power went out in the middle of another Bengal loss and that I didn’t have internet access during Monday’s financial markets meltdown.

I took note that this experience came during the feasts of the Triumph of the Cross and Our Lady of Sorrows.  I took special note of the meditations I read concerning our attachment to wordly things.

I am appreciative that despite 90% of the community being dark, no one took advantage of others through criminal activity.  I am appreciative that roofers and contractors, who have been hard hit by the housing bust, have some work to do (although there is a great deal of ancedotal evidence of price gouging on projects).

God sends us reminders sometimes when he wants to get our attention.  Somehow, I believe this blackout was such a reminder.  In the dark of Sunday and Monday night, I was reminded that there is only one thing that matters – our faith in God.  Everything else can be taken away, but as long as we truly and wholly believe in our Eternal Father, everything is right with our little corner of the world.

Triumph of the Cross

theophilus September 14th, 2008

Today is the Feast of the Triumph of the Cross.  It’s a good day to think about whether we have, at times, taken the Cross for granted.

I see crosses all around; sometimes displayed with devotion, other times not.  The focus of every Catholic Church is on the Crucifix behind the altar.  Catholic churches used to be laid out in the form of a cross.

So, do we look with reverence and devotion upon the Cross and Christ crucified, or has he just kind of blended in with the rest of the church?  Have we allowed the Cross to become just another part of the scenery for us?  It’s our loss if we have done so.

The Crucifix is the essence of our faith; it is the symbol of what binds us together as Catholics.  The cross is the symbol of what binds us together with other Christians.

No matter where we go in the world, we can look upon the Crucifix and the Cross and know we are gazing upon the same Christ, the same source of salvation.  We know that we can lay our cares, our sins, and our lives before the Cross; and Christ will be there to lift us up in the arms of his divine majesty.

And we know that we can look upon others who we encounter who show the cross or who carry the Rosary, and know that by the Cross, we do not walk alone; there are others walking with us.  We can walk into a home with a Crucifix or a cross and know that we share a special bond with those who live there.

Today, let us look with a new devotion upon the Crucifix in our homes, on our Rosaries, behind the altar.  Let us look at Christ crucified and truly contemplate the source of our salvation and the unity that we share.

Christ became triumphant on the Cross; it is up to us to want to share in this triumph.

St. Max

theophilus August 14th, 2008

Today is the feast day of St. Maximilian Kolbe.  He is my parish’s patron saint and there is a big stain glass window of him in our church.  So I’ve done quite a bit of studying his life and praying to him and, through the years, I’ve grown in devotion to this rather remarkable man.

Most people only know him as the martyr of Auschwitz; the priest who took the place of a condemned man in the torture chamber of that gruesome, evil place.  But his life and sainthood did not begin there.

He was brilliant, having received one doctorate at age 21 (philosophy) and another at age 25 (theology).  He was a leader in the Conventual Franciscans.  He had a deep devotion to Mary and, at age 23, founded what would become a worldwide order, the Militia of the Immaculata, so others would be drawn to our Blessed Mother.  He published magazines and did radio shows.  He was a missionary in Japan and India.  All the while, he was suffering from tuberculosis.  And then came those fateful months in 1941 when he was arrested by the Gestapo and ultimately sent to Auschwitz.  It was at this point when he truly lived the life of Christ in giving his life for another; dying on the vigil of the Feast of the Assumption, the day we commemorate Mary being taken up into heaven.  It was on this day when he was forever tied to the Blessed Virgin to whom he was so devoted and in whom he placed so much trust.

His was a life well-lived.  He followed Christ’s path and God’s plan for him.  It led him from a simple life in Poland, to Rome, to Nagasaki, to India, to Auschwitz.  He went whenever and wherever the Spirit called him and did whatever he was asked to do.  And through it all, he remained a humble friar who cultivated and relied on his deep love for Mary.

St. Max, on this your feast day, pray for us so that we may follow Christ’s path and God’s plan for us no matter where it shall lead.

The Most Meaningful Eucharist

theophilus August 11th, 2008

Fr. Dan is the pastor at St. Susanna’s in Mason, Ohio.  I don’t belong to this parish but I go there occasionally for weekday Mass.   Last night, my family went there for Sunday night Mass.  And I was part of one of the most meaningful liturgies of my life.

Fr. Dan has ALS, Lou Gehrig’s Disease.  I see him about every other month, so I probably notice the differences in him more than those who may see him every week.  And the differences I witness are becoming more and more painful to watch.  I am watching this dreadful disease take hold of him and progress in him, function by function.

At yesterday’s Mass, he was totally confined to his motorized wheelchair.  His voice was audible only to those who focused with sonar intensity.  Every one of his movements were calculated, deliberate, slow.

But Fr. Dan preached a thoughtful homily, continued to be in his usual good cheer, and willed himself and his flock to celebrate the majesty of Christ’s life, death and resurrection.

And during the Eucharistic Prayer, I silently cried.   As Fr. Dan consecrated the bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ, I looked up at Christ crucified and fully understood the depth of his love in his bodily sacrifice for us all.  For the first time, I witnessed one of his chosen ones showing the same love and sacrifice for us, his flock.  Fr. Dan was showing us Christ through his own infirmity and perserverance.

Fr. Dan could be in a home, giving up.  But, he is fighting for his life and the sanctity of his flock with so much vigor and grace that he belongs in only one temporal place, and that is at the altar of St. Susanna’s.

His parish has invoked the intercession of Blessed (soon to be St.) Damian of Molokai for his healing.  I trust that it’s a good time to pray to Blessed Damian that Fr. Dan, this holy and faithful shepherd, be allowed to tend to his flock as long as God’s will be done.

The Price of Charity

theophilus June 14th, 2008

I gave blood on Thursday night.  I ran a 5K this morning.  Oh my!

I hadn’t given a thought to any connection between giving blood and its effect on me running 3.1 miles in race conditions just 36 hours later.  I hadn’t given a thought until I was in the chair with the tube in my arm pumping out the blood.  I happened to ask the nurse about it and she insisted that I would be fine as long as I kept sufficiently hydrated.  I think I could have drank the office water cooler yesterday and still not have been hydrated enough.

In any case, I had great runs this week and was thinking personal record, especially considering that it was a relatively flat course.  By the 1.5 mile mark, I was suffering.  By 2 miles, I was crashing, fast.  I decided to walk for 30 seconds.  I then kicked it in again, only to have to shut it down yet again.  I walked for another 30 seconds and kicked it in one last time to the finish. 

I then proceeded to the food area and scarfed down anything I could find.  I was finally back to normal about an hour later (or so I hope).

Call it a lesson learned.

The good news is that the race was the Run for the Poor to kick off the local St. Vincent de Paul Society campaign.  The blood I donated will probably go to someone in need of the good stuff.

I guess I didn’t realize that sometimes there can be a physical cost to charity. 

But, believe it or not I had fun.  I thrive on challenges and it was quite a challenge getting my oxygen-deprived, blood-missing body to the finish line.  And, I was a little humbled along the way as that 12-year old blew past me at mile 2.

Now, I’m just hoping that God refills the old blood tank by my next race. 

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