This and That:
How I See the Priesthood
Most know that Pope Benedict XVI has declared June 19, 2009 to June 19, 2010 a “Year for Priests.”
I have been looking for an opportunity to share some thoughts on priesthood. Last week I began a series of “This and That’s” with one priest’s testimony in this “Year of Priests.” My thoughts, this week and perhaps two additional weeks over the next month, will focus on “Our Catholic Theology of Priesthood,” “My Experience As a Priest,” “The Current Situation of the Priesthood,” and “Living Priesthood in the Church after the Second Vatican Council of the 1960’s.”
Our Catholic understanding is that the Sacrament of Holy Orders, like the Sacraments of Baptism and Confirmation, confers what is called a “Sacramental Character” on the one ordained.
This “character’ is an indelible, spiritual mark. It is a change, a transformation of the person that happens not through our human effort, but rather through the action of God. Our Catholic understanding is that this “character” of Holy Orders is lasting, enduring, or permanent. That is why we always say that, “Once a priest, always a priest,” even if the one ordained is no longer functioning as such.
The effect or “character” of Holy Orders conforms the priest to Christ in a special way.
The Second Vatican Council and recent Popes have said that Holy Orders conforms a priest to Christ to preach the Word, celebrate the sacraments, and serve God’s people.
First, the priest is to preach the Word in the person of Christ.
To do this, he himself, as a person, must be immersed in God’s Word. The Scripture is to be central to a priest’s personal spirituality and prayer. We are to allow the Word little by little to have a leavening effect on us as persons, on our own humanity and our own faith journey. Only if we do this will we be able to relate the Word of God authentically to the rest of God’s people. We need to relate the Word of God to real life as it is today and to be sensitive to where people are in their own life journey.
Next, the priest is to celebrate Sacraments.
Jesus came to sanctify, that is, he came to make us holy, to make us God-like persons. He left us the Sacraments, with the Eucharist as paramount, as avenues to the grace or life and presence of God. Therefore, celebrating the Eucharist and other Sacraments is central to priesthood. The priest, acting in the person of Christ himself, must do this not as a prayer to be recited or a ritual to be performed, or an obligation to be fulfilled. Rather, he must lead Sacraments in the Spirit of Jesus himself, aware of God’s presence and action that is going on here, moved by the Spirit, and opening others to the Spirit’s presence and action.
Finally, the priest is to serve God’s People.
We have traditionally expressed this role of service with the image of a shepherd. The idea here is that the priest is to be a leader, a spiritual leader, a servant leader. In fact, this service dimension is to characterize all he does as a priest. Service requires sensitivity, respect, compassion, and selflessness. In this regard, I feel very strongly that a priest must see himself as one with others, with all of God’s people and he must never forget that. Holy Orders marks the priest as someone special and for a special role in the Church or faith community. However, this “specialness” does not make the priest above or apart from others. On the contrary, the priest, like Jesus the Good Shepherd, is to be fully part of and with God’s People. He must see himself that way – not better than another, not above another. This is crucial is a priest is to be a servant leader. Because there have been and are some problems with embracing this outlook, and because this point is so crucial, I will return to it again later in these reflections.
In this Year of Priests, I ask each of you to pray for me and for all priests that we may mirror the saving presence of Jesus in our ministry to you, our beloved people.
Fondly,
Father Nicholas
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Weekly HOMILY for February 7, 2010: The Place of Silence in the Mass
5th Sunday of Ordinary Time, Cycle C
Our Lady of Grace
February 7, 2010
The Place of Silence in the Mass
(Rev. Msgr.) Nicholas P. Amato
Too Much Speaking
There is a story told about a reunion of retired business executives.
Each of them was invited to give a brief, two-minute talk after dinner about their retirement. The toastmaster was instructed to rap his gavel when the two minutes were up.
Well, the first speaker was still going strong at the end of two minutes. The kindly old toastmaster just couldn’t bring himself to rap the gavel.
On and on the speaker droned until the other guests started murmuring and signaling the toastmaster to end it. [“Tap watch with finger; signal “cut”]
Finally, the elderly toastmaster gave in.
He wound up and brought the gavel down full force, but he accidentally missed the table lecturn and hit the head of the man seated at the table next to him.
As that man was sinking down under the table from the blow, he was heard to say, “Hit me again, I can still hear him.”
Speaking and Silence
That story helps us to appreciate one of the core lessons in today’s readings.
Speaking on and on really has its limits and it can actually turn the hearer against the message, no matter how good it is. The truth be told, the absence of speaking or silence has an important place in our lives.
We see evidence of this truth in each of today’s Scripture readings: Isaiah, Paul and Peter each have had an experience of God.
Isaiah alone in the temple; Paul being knocked off his horse on the road to Damascus; and Peter in the great catch of fish!
Each of them encounters God in an experience that has few words or no words at all.
And these experiences changed them as persons. They are transformed.
Silence in the Liturgy
For us, the liturgy each week or even each day is meant to be transforming.
In the Mass, we sing the words of the hymns. We speak the words of the prayers.
We listen to the words of the readings and the homily. All of this is good and important.
But in the Mass, there are also three major places for silence. These silent spaces are important places if the experience of the liturgy is to be transforming.
The Three Silences
The first major silence is at the very beginning of Mass. The priest calls us to be aware of God’s presence or to be mindful of ourselves and our sinfulness.
At this point we are invited to be in touch with who we are and where we are in our lives today. Am I tired or upset or worried or hopeful or happy or what?
What do I need today in my life and in my relationship with God? So, this silence at the beginning of Mass gives us a chance to situate ourselves here and now.
And then, the second major silence follows the readings and the homily. Here the issue is: What am I now thinking or feeling?
What did I hear or how did this Word of God touch me? Was I comforted? Or challenged? Or encouraged? Or just bored?
What do I see myself doing with this message and my feelings and thoughts about it? So, this silence after the homily gives us a chance to situate ourselves again after God has spoken to me in the readings and homily.
The third major silence comes after communion. In Communion, Jesus is becoming part of me and I am becoming part of Jesus.
Here we ask ourselves: where am I going now with this nourishment? What change needs to take place in me or in my relationships?
How does this Eucharist empower me to hang in there or to grow as a person?
So, this final silence after Communion gives us a chance to situate ourselves for the coming day or coming week.
Conclusion
These are the three major silences in the Mass: at its beginning, after the Word, and after Communion.
Those three “events” or “encounters” are each part of the transforming power of the liturgy.
We priests need to be careful to make room for this time of silence and all of us need to use these opportunities to allow God to work within us.
Our Lady of Grace
February 7, 2010
The Place of Silence in the Mass
(Rev. Msgr.) Nicholas P. Amato
Too Much Speaking
There is a story told about a reunion of retired business executives.
Each of them was invited to give a brief, two-minute talk after dinner about their retirement. The toastmaster was instructed to rap his gavel when the two minutes were up.
Well, the first speaker was still going strong at the end of two minutes. The kindly old toastmaster just couldn’t bring himself to rap the gavel.
On and on the speaker droned until the other guests started murmuring and signaling the toastmaster to end it. [“Tap watch with finger; signal “cut”]
Finally, the elderly toastmaster gave in.
He wound up and brought the gavel down full force, but he accidentally missed the table lecturn and hit the head of the man seated at the table next to him.
As that man was sinking down under the table from the blow, he was heard to say, “Hit me again, I can still hear him.”
Speaking and Silence
That story helps us to appreciate one of the core lessons in today’s readings.
Speaking on and on really has its limits and it can actually turn the hearer against the message, no matter how good it is. The truth be told, the absence of speaking or silence has an important place in our lives.
We see evidence of this truth in each of today’s Scripture readings: Isaiah, Paul and Peter each have had an experience of God.
Isaiah alone in the temple; Paul being knocked off his horse on the road to Damascus; and Peter in the great catch of fish!
Each of them encounters God in an experience that has few words or no words at all.
And these experiences changed them as persons. They are transformed.
Silence in the Liturgy
For us, the liturgy each week or even each day is meant to be transforming.
In the Mass, we sing the words of the hymns. We speak the words of the prayers.
We listen to the words of the readings and the homily. All of this is good and important.
But in the Mass, there are also three major places for silence. These silent spaces are important places if the experience of the liturgy is to be transforming.
The Three Silences
The first major silence is at the very beginning of Mass. The priest calls us to be aware of God’s presence or to be mindful of ourselves and our sinfulness.
At this point we are invited to be in touch with who we are and where we are in our lives today. Am I tired or upset or worried or hopeful or happy or what?
What do I need today in my life and in my relationship with God? So, this silence at the beginning of Mass gives us a chance to situate ourselves here and now.
And then, the second major silence follows the readings and the homily. Here the issue is: What am I now thinking or feeling?
What did I hear or how did this Word of God touch me? Was I comforted? Or challenged? Or encouraged? Or just bored?
What do I see myself doing with this message and my feelings and thoughts about it? So, this silence after the homily gives us a chance to situate ourselves again after God has spoken to me in the readings and homily.
The third major silence comes after communion. In Communion, Jesus is becoming part of me and I am becoming part of Jesus.
Here we ask ourselves: where am I going now with this nourishment? What change needs to take place in me or in my relationships?
How does this Eucharist empower me to hang in there or to grow as a person?
So, this final silence after Communion gives us a chance to situate ourselves for the coming day or coming week.
Conclusion
These are the three major silences in the Mass: at its beginning, after the Word, and after Communion.
Those three “events” or “encounters” are each part of the transforming power of the liturgy.
We priests need to be careful to make room for this time of silence and all of us need to use these opportunities to allow God to work within us.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Weekly THIS AND THAT for December 27, 2009 Dignity and Respect in the Family of Jesus…and Our Families
Dignity and Respect in the Family of Jesus…and Our Families
The feast of the Holy Family (the Sunday following Christmas) celebrates the first community that blessed Jesus and was blessed by him. It would be easy to miss this quiet feast this year because it is celebrated two days after Christmas.
Following is a reflection on today’s Scripture readings by Daniel J. Harrington, S.J., a professor of New Testament at Weston Jesuit School of Theology:
For most Christians the family is the first school of spirituality. In that context we learn (or do not learn) the basics of morality and religion, and we develop our sense of responsibility and mutual respect. On Christmas Day we celebrated the birth of Jesus, through whom we believe that we have entered upon a new relationship with God. We are God’s children alongside the Son of God. This means that we should respect one another as God has respected us. The theme of our identity and dignity as God’s children runs through the readings for Holy Family Sunday, which we celebrate today.
Our first reading from Sirach 3 is an instruction for adults to care for their aging parents. That plea is based on the commandment to “honor your father and mother,” which was addressed originally to adults rather than to young children. We are to honor our aging parents not only out of gratitude for their gifts of life and care, but also because as children of God they deserve our respect and love.
In our second reading, we hear the household code from Colossians 3, in which husbands are exhorted to love their wives and avoid bitterness toward them. Likewise, parents are urged to avoid nagging their children, lest they become discouraged. Even within the patriarchal family structure assumed in the passage, there is an overriding emphasis on respect based upon our common identity and dignity as God’s children through Christ.
Luke’s account of the child Jesus teaching in the Temple area prefigures Jesus’ activities as an adult. He goes up to Jerusalem on Passover, engages the Jewish sages in dialogue and claims the Jerusalem Temple as his Father’s house. Yet there are some disturbing features. Jesus fails to inform his parents of his whereabouts, and he answers them in a “fresh” manner.
The child Jesus’ behavior reminds us that while the human family is an essential context of spirituality, it is not an absolute. Sometimes one’s obligations to God can supersede natural family duties (Luke 9:59-62). Later in Luke’s Gospel (8:21; 11:28) Jesus redefines his family as those who hear God’s word and act upon it. The final sentences in today’s reading affirm that Jesus participated fully and flourished in his family.
Christian family life begins with the recognition of our common identity and dignity as God’s children through Jesus the Son of God.
We may find it difficult to find time for prayer during this season when we are out of our normal routine. We may be spending more time with our immediate family or getting together with extended family or friends. With focused attention, we can let many very ordinary parts of our days become prayerful and rich with grace. Imagine how different this Christmas Season would be if we let every handshake, touch on the arm, every hug, every kiss, be an opportunity - even for a few brief seconds - to turn to God in thanksgiving and with a prayer. "Thank you so much for Ann; she is such a gift. Please give her your freedom and peace." "Chris is such a wonderful partner.
Please fill our marriage with faith, generosity and self-sacrificing love." "Lord, you know the struggles I have with Michael; let me be as compassionate and loving with him as you are." In these or similar brief prayers, our very ordinary gestures of greeting might be transformed and full of faith. Any other activity can become a ritual, if I let it have meaning: turning on the Christmas tree lights, ("Lord, let your Light brighten this house this day."), opening the front door to guests, ("Lord, we open our house and our hearts to the gifts you bring us.").
Even as we encounter strangers, we can remember that each person is our sister or brother because Jesus has brought us all into relationship as God’s children.
May every family experience the blessings of God’s love in Jesus during this holy season and may we extend the love of our families to the whole human family in the year to come!
The feast of the Holy Family (the Sunday following Christmas) celebrates the first community that blessed Jesus and was blessed by him. It would be easy to miss this quiet feast this year because it is celebrated two days after Christmas.
Following is a reflection on today’s Scripture readings by Daniel J. Harrington, S.J., a professor of New Testament at Weston Jesuit School of Theology:
For most Christians the family is the first school of spirituality. In that context we learn (or do not learn) the basics of morality and religion, and we develop our sense of responsibility and mutual respect. On Christmas Day we celebrated the birth of Jesus, through whom we believe that we have entered upon a new relationship with God. We are God’s children alongside the Son of God. This means that we should respect one another as God has respected us. The theme of our identity and dignity as God’s children runs through the readings for Holy Family Sunday, which we celebrate today.
Our first reading from Sirach 3 is an instruction for adults to care for their aging parents. That plea is based on the commandment to “honor your father and mother,” which was addressed originally to adults rather than to young children. We are to honor our aging parents not only out of gratitude for their gifts of life and care, but also because as children of God they deserve our respect and love.
In our second reading, we hear the household code from Colossians 3, in which husbands are exhorted to love their wives and avoid bitterness toward them. Likewise, parents are urged to avoid nagging their children, lest they become discouraged. Even within the patriarchal family structure assumed in the passage, there is an overriding emphasis on respect based upon our common identity and dignity as God’s children through Christ.
Luke’s account of the child Jesus teaching in the Temple area prefigures Jesus’ activities as an adult. He goes up to Jerusalem on Passover, engages the Jewish sages in dialogue and claims the Jerusalem Temple as his Father’s house. Yet there are some disturbing features. Jesus fails to inform his parents of his whereabouts, and he answers them in a “fresh” manner.
The child Jesus’ behavior reminds us that while the human family is an essential context of spirituality, it is not an absolute. Sometimes one’s obligations to God can supersede natural family duties (Luke 9:59-62). Later in Luke’s Gospel (8:21; 11:28) Jesus redefines his family as those who hear God’s word and act upon it. The final sentences in today’s reading affirm that Jesus participated fully and flourished in his family.
Christian family life begins with the recognition of our common identity and dignity as God’s children through Jesus the Son of God.
We may find it difficult to find time for prayer during this season when we are out of our normal routine. We may be spending more time with our immediate family or getting together with extended family or friends. With focused attention, we can let many very ordinary parts of our days become prayerful and rich with grace. Imagine how different this Christmas Season would be if we let every handshake, touch on the arm, every hug, every kiss, be an opportunity - even for a few brief seconds - to turn to God in thanksgiving and with a prayer. "Thank you so much for Ann; she is such a gift. Please give her your freedom and peace." "Chris is such a wonderful partner.
Please fill our marriage with faith, generosity and self-sacrificing love." "Lord, you know the struggles I have with Michael; let me be as compassionate and loving with him as you are." In these or similar brief prayers, our very ordinary gestures of greeting might be transformed and full of faith. Any other activity can become a ritual, if I let it have meaning: turning on the Christmas tree lights, ("Lord, let your Light brighten this house this day."), opening the front door to guests, ("Lord, we open our house and our hearts to the gifts you bring us.").
Even as we encounter strangers, we can remember that each person is our sister or brother because Jesus has brought us all into relationship as God’s children.
May every family experience the blessings of God’s love in Jesus during this holy season and may we extend the love of our families to the whole human family in the year to come!
Weekly HOMILY for December 27, 2009: Deacon Preaching Sunday
This was Deacon Preaching Sunday and Deacon Jim Prosser preached at Father Nicholas' Masses.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Weekly THIS AND THAT for January 31, 2010: One Priest in This Year of Priests
This and That:
One Priest in this Year of Priests
In this “Year of Priests” I’ve been reading the testimonies of various priests for Spiritual Reading. The following of Father John Jay Hughes struck me as especially memorable. Father Hughes is the author of 12 books and hundreds of articles. The following is an excerpt from his memoir, “No Ordinary Fool: a Testimony to Grace.”
Fondly,
“Priests who like being priests are among the happiest men in the world.” Those words by the Chicago priest and sociologist, Father Andrew Greeley, lifted me out of my chair when I read them a few years ago. “Andy, you’re right,” I e-mailed him. “I can confirm that from my own experience.”
The son and grandson of priests in the Episcopal Church, I grew up in a world in which public worship and private prayer were as much a part of daily life as eating and sleeping. From age nine I was a choirboy at New York’s Cathedral of St. John the Divine, then a kind of American version of Canterbury Cathedral or York Minster in England. We sang the psalms at daily Evensong (Vespers), and on Sunday’s anthems and the musical portions of the Eucharistic liturgy. I loved it.
From age 12 I knew that I wanted to be a priest. Required when I went away to boarding school to write an essay on, “What I expect to be doing in 20 years,” I wrote about serving as a missionary priest in Africa. This idea, to which I had previously devoted not a moment's thought, must have come from the school chaplain, a priest of the Anglican Order of the Holy Cross, which had a mission in Liberia.
Every time I served Mass I thought: “One day I'll stand there. I’ll wear those vestments. I’ll say those words.” The idea of a missionary vocation soon faded. But priesthood never. I went straight toward that goal, like a steel needle to a magnet, until, 12 years later, I achieved it. Following my first Mass on April 4, 1954, I was so happy that I recited the whole of the “Te Deum” aloud in the sacristy.
During six happy years of parish ministry, I found priesthood all that I had hoped for, and more. My personal religion was “Catholicism without the Pope.” My studies had taught me that the modern papal claims to universal jurisdiction and infallibility were illegitimate additions to the faith of the ancient Catholic Church. Popular Catholic tracts claiming that the Pope was some kind of oracle “who gives us the answer to every question” (a caricature of authentic Catholic belief) confirmed my rejection of papal infallibility, so defined. During those years I visited countless Catholic churches on both sides of the Atlantic. I found the silent and rushed Masses, the Latin (when you could hear it) so gabbled and garbled that it might have been Chinese, an off-putting comedown from the reverent Anglican liturgy which I loved, with full congregational participation, including fervent hymn singing which I continue to miss to this day.
I always realized that Anglicanism was a theological house of cards. But it was my house. It was where the Lord had put me. You don't leave the place God has assigned you without very serious reasons. Doing so became a possibility only when I discovered, during a lengthy European trip in 1959, that the Catholic Church had a different face from the one familiar to me in the United States. This launched me on a period of agonized study and reflection, accompanied by lengthy daily prayer. For close to a year the questions of the Church, and of my conscientious duty, were not out of my mind for two waking hours together.
My final decision, at Easter 1960, to leave the Anglican Church, which I loved (it had taken me from the font to the altar), and enter an alien world, which still had little outward appeal to me, was the hardest thing I have ever done. Looking back years later (but only then), I recognized that it was the best thing I have ever done.
I became a priest for one simple reason: so that I could celebrate Mass. Doing so was wonderful the first time I did it, almost 56 years ago. It is, if possible, even more wonderful today. Celebrating Mass and feeding God’s holy people with the bread of life is a privilege beyond any man's deserving. To prepare, it has been my practice for years to spend a half-hour waiting in silence on the Lord who told Moses at the burning bush: "Put off your shoes from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground" (Exodus 3:5).
Priesthood has other rewards as well. There is the joy of preaching the Gospel: feeding God's people from the table of his word. An evangelical hymn defines the preacher's task thus: “Tell me the old, old, story / Of Jesus and his love.” John’s Gospel says it more briefly, in words once posted inside pulpits for the preacher to see: “Sir, we would like to see Jesus” (John 12:21). His story, and Jesus’ words, uphold us when we are down, rebuke us when we go astray, and fill our mouths with laughter and our tongues with joy (to use the Psalmist’s words) when the sunshine of God's love shines upon us.
There is also the joy of pastoral ministry. Like priests everywhere, I have witnessed miracles of God’s grace in the people we serve. Not 10 years ago a man came into my confessional bruised and bloodied from a failed marriage. Then one of our CEO Catholics (Christmas-and-Easter only), he is today a daily communicant, and a frequent penitent. Every priest has stories like that, many of them more dramatic.
Have every one of my almost 56 years of priesthood been happy? Of course not. That does not happen in any life. A widow spoke for married people when she told me: “Father, when you walk up to the altar on your wedding day, you don’t see the Stations of the Cross.”
Priesthood has brought me suffering as well as joy. For seven years I was without assignment and literally unemployed. Subject to a German bishop, but resident in St. Louis, I was like an army officer who has got detached from his regiment. The clerical system didn’t know what to do with me. The Church for which I had sacrificed everything seemed not to want me. I survived only by prayer. To anyone who asks, however, whether I have ever regretted my decision for priesthood, I answer honestly and at once: Never, not one single day.
Writing in April 2005 to my former teacher during my doctoral studies in Münster, Germany, Joseph Ratzinger, to express my joy at his election as Pope, and assure him of my prayers, I closed the letter, “In the joy of our common priesthood.” What more can one say than that? From age 12, priesthood has been all I ever wanted. If I were to die tonight, I would die a happy man.
One Priest in this Year of Priests
In this “Year of Priests” I’ve been reading the testimonies of various priests for Spiritual Reading. The following of Father John Jay Hughes struck me as especially memorable. Father Hughes is the author of 12 books and hundreds of articles. The following is an excerpt from his memoir, “No Ordinary Fool: a Testimony to Grace.”
Fondly,
“Priests who like being priests are among the happiest men in the world.” Those words by the Chicago priest and sociologist, Father Andrew Greeley, lifted me out of my chair when I read them a few years ago. “Andy, you’re right,” I e-mailed him. “I can confirm that from my own experience.”
The son and grandson of priests in the Episcopal Church, I grew up in a world in which public worship and private prayer were as much a part of daily life as eating and sleeping. From age nine I was a choirboy at New York’s Cathedral of St. John the Divine, then a kind of American version of Canterbury Cathedral or York Minster in England. We sang the psalms at daily Evensong (Vespers), and on Sunday’s anthems and the musical portions of the Eucharistic liturgy. I loved it.
From age 12 I knew that I wanted to be a priest. Required when I went away to boarding school to write an essay on, “What I expect to be doing in 20 years,” I wrote about serving as a missionary priest in Africa. This idea, to which I had previously devoted not a moment's thought, must have come from the school chaplain, a priest of the Anglican Order of the Holy Cross, which had a mission in Liberia.
Every time I served Mass I thought: “One day I'll stand there. I’ll wear those vestments. I’ll say those words.” The idea of a missionary vocation soon faded. But priesthood never. I went straight toward that goal, like a steel needle to a magnet, until, 12 years later, I achieved it. Following my first Mass on April 4, 1954, I was so happy that I recited the whole of the “Te Deum” aloud in the sacristy.
During six happy years of parish ministry, I found priesthood all that I had hoped for, and more. My personal religion was “Catholicism without the Pope.” My studies had taught me that the modern papal claims to universal jurisdiction and infallibility were illegitimate additions to the faith of the ancient Catholic Church. Popular Catholic tracts claiming that the Pope was some kind of oracle “who gives us the answer to every question” (a caricature of authentic Catholic belief) confirmed my rejection of papal infallibility, so defined. During those years I visited countless Catholic churches on both sides of the Atlantic. I found the silent and rushed Masses, the Latin (when you could hear it) so gabbled and garbled that it might have been Chinese, an off-putting comedown from the reverent Anglican liturgy which I loved, with full congregational participation, including fervent hymn singing which I continue to miss to this day.
I always realized that Anglicanism was a theological house of cards. But it was my house. It was where the Lord had put me. You don't leave the place God has assigned you without very serious reasons. Doing so became a possibility only when I discovered, during a lengthy European trip in 1959, that the Catholic Church had a different face from the one familiar to me in the United States. This launched me on a period of agonized study and reflection, accompanied by lengthy daily prayer. For close to a year the questions of the Church, and of my conscientious duty, were not out of my mind for two waking hours together.
My final decision, at Easter 1960, to leave the Anglican Church, which I loved (it had taken me from the font to the altar), and enter an alien world, which still had little outward appeal to me, was the hardest thing I have ever done. Looking back years later (but only then), I recognized that it was the best thing I have ever done.
I became a priest for one simple reason: so that I could celebrate Mass. Doing so was wonderful the first time I did it, almost 56 years ago. It is, if possible, even more wonderful today. Celebrating Mass and feeding God’s holy people with the bread of life is a privilege beyond any man's deserving. To prepare, it has been my practice for years to spend a half-hour waiting in silence on the Lord who told Moses at the burning bush: "Put off your shoes from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground" (Exodus 3:5).
Priesthood has other rewards as well. There is the joy of preaching the Gospel: feeding God's people from the table of his word. An evangelical hymn defines the preacher's task thus: “Tell me the old, old, story / Of Jesus and his love.” John’s Gospel says it more briefly, in words once posted inside pulpits for the preacher to see: “Sir, we would like to see Jesus” (John 12:21). His story, and Jesus’ words, uphold us when we are down, rebuke us when we go astray, and fill our mouths with laughter and our tongues with joy (to use the Psalmist’s words) when the sunshine of God's love shines upon us.
There is also the joy of pastoral ministry. Like priests everywhere, I have witnessed miracles of God’s grace in the people we serve. Not 10 years ago a man came into my confessional bruised and bloodied from a failed marriage. Then one of our CEO Catholics (Christmas-and-Easter only), he is today a daily communicant, and a frequent penitent. Every priest has stories like that, many of them more dramatic.
Have every one of my almost 56 years of priesthood been happy? Of course not. That does not happen in any life. A widow spoke for married people when she told me: “Father, when you walk up to the altar on your wedding day, you don’t see the Stations of the Cross.”
Priesthood has brought me suffering as well as joy. For seven years I was without assignment and literally unemployed. Subject to a German bishop, but resident in St. Louis, I was like an army officer who has got detached from his regiment. The clerical system didn’t know what to do with me. The Church for which I had sacrificed everything seemed not to want me. I survived only by prayer. To anyone who asks, however, whether I have ever regretted my decision for priesthood, I answer honestly and at once: Never, not one single day.
Writing in April 2005 to my former teacher during my doctoral studies in Münster, Germany, Joseph Ratzinger, to express my joy at his election as Pope, and assure him of my prayers, I closed the letter, “In the joy of our common priesthood.” What more can one say than that? From age 12, priesthood has been all I ever wanted. If I were to die tonight, I would die a happy man.
Weekly HOMILY for January 31, 2010: Love: Its Modeling and Empowerment
4th Sunday of Ordinary Time, Cycle C
Our Lady of Grace
January 31, 2010
Love: Its Modeling and Empowerment
By (Rev. Msgr.) Nicholas P. Amato
The Sign of Jonah
Shortly after World War II, a Lutheran minister wrote a play entitled “The Sign of Jonah.”
The play takes place in a Germany that is still reeling from World War II. A group of refugees are arguing about who is to blame for this horror.
Various people blame Hitler, the manufacturers of munitions, or others, and then, one man shouts, “God is to blame. He created this world and placed all this power into unworthy hands; He allowed all this to happen.”
And little by little everyone takes up the chorus: “God is to blame! God is to blame!” What happens next in the play is that God is put on trial and found guilty.
The judge says: “This crime is so serious that it demands the worst possible punishment. I hereby sentence God to live on this earth as a human being.”
The judge then directs three angels to execute the sentence. The first angel declares, “I’m going to see that God knows what it’s like to be obscure and poor; there will be shame about his birth.”
The second angel vows, “I’m going to see to it that God knows what it’s like to fail and suffer.”
And the third angel swears, “I’m going to see to it that he will die the most painful and humiliating death possible.”
God’s Love
The audiences who saw this play – The Sign of Jonah – and even we today, know that God has already served his sentence.
God has become human and lived on this earth as Jesus. And Jesus has suffered and died for us, out of love.
The message of the gospel, and even the underlying message of the play, is that God became what we are and experienced what we experience. And God has done this so that we can better understand who and what God is – that God is love itself, pure love, nothing but this outpouring of love.
Our Love
This, Sisters and Brothers, is the basis for Saint Paul’s classic description of love in our second reading.
Is it easy to be such a loving person? Definitely not!
How can we do it? How can we become this kind of person?
We can do this with (1) The example and (2) The empowerment of Jesus. Paul does not say it, but this is the grounding of all that he says here today.
Jesus is our (1) Example, model or template. And (2) His presence with us through the Holy Spirit and the Sacraments, especially the Eucharist, is our empowerment or strengthening for doing this.
Archbishop’s Annual Appeal
This weekend, all celebrants in the Archdiocese are asked to speak at the Masses in our parishes.
Archbishop O’Brien has asked us to reflect on what is called the Archbishop’s Annual Appeal. And what better way to do this than in the context of Paul’s passage on love today!
The Archbishop’s Annual Appeal invites us to help with the services and ministries that are beyond the level of any single parish. They are services that the Archdiocese itself leads and supports.
They include things like hospital chaplains, college campus ministries, assistance for schools and religious education programs in financially poor areas, homeless shelters, and relief to the impoverished and ravaged country of Haiti.
There is a full listing of everything that the Appeal supports in the flyer enclosed in today’s bulletin.
Some Specifics
Many of us have given to this Appeal in past years and some of us have already given this year.
On behalf of Archbishop O’Brien, I thank you very much for your generosity. And now, I will wrap up with just a few specifics.
First, each parish is assigned a goal or target that equals 9% of its annual offertory income. Our Lady of Grace’s target for this year is $46,000, but that is a target, and in the end, we give what we can give.
Second, I think it is fair to say that our giving to Our Lady of Grace comes first. The Archbishop does not want this appeal to hurt our weekly Offertory Collection.
Third, the parish Development Committee and I are recommending that we contribute to the Appeal an amount equivalent to 10% of what we give to the parish each year. So, if you contribute $1,000 a year to the parish, try to consider a gift of $100 to the Appeal and this gift can be made as a pledge and spread out over the next ten months.
Finally, each parish will receive back 25% of what it gives. So, 25% of what we as Our Lady of Grace give will be our share for special needs that we designate.
Our parish committees have decided to use our share for two equal purposes. One half for our sister parish of St. Cecilia’s in Baltimore City and one half for tuition assistance for parishioners going to Our Lady of Grace School. Regarding tuition assistance, the Archdiocese will match whatever we designate for this.
Conclusion
In conclusion I would ask each of us to approach the Archbishop’s Appeal as an expression of faith and of living the love that Saint Paul talks about today.
As always, I know that we will do our best. Thank you very much.
Our Lady of Grace
January 31, 2010
Love: Its Modeling and Empowerment
By (Rev. Msgr.) Nicholas P. Amato
The Sign of Jonah
Shortly after World War II, a Lutheran minister wrote a play entitled “The Sign of Jonah.”
The play takes place in a Germany that is still reeling from World War II. A group of refugees are arguing about who is to blame for this horror.
Various people blame Hitler, the manufacturers of munitions, or others, and then, one man shouts, “God is to blame. He created this world and placed all this power into unworthy hands; He allowed all this to happen.”
And little by little everyone takes up the chorus: “God is to blame! God is to blame!” What happens next in the play is that God is put on trial and found guilty.
The judge says: “This crime is so serious that it demands the worst possible punishment. I hereby sentence God to live on this earth as a human being.”
The judge then directs three angels to execute the sentence. The first angel declares, “I’m going to see that God knows what it’s like to be obscure and poor; there will be shame about his birth.”
The second angel vows, “I’m going to see to it that God knows what it’s like to fail and suffer.”
And the third angel swears, “I’m going to see to it that he will die the most painful and humiliating death possible.”
God’s Love
The audiences who saw this play – The Sign of Jonah – and even we today, know that God has already served his sentence.
God has become human and lived on this earth as Jesus. And Jesus has suffered and died for us, out of love.
The message of the gospel, and even the underlying message of the play, is that God became what we are and experienced what we experience. And God has done this so that we can better understand who and what God is – that God is love itself, pure love, nothing but this outpouring of love.
Our Love
This, Sisters and Brothers, is the basis for Saint Paul’s classic description of love in our second reading.
Is it easy to be such a loving person? Definitely not!
How can we do it? How can we become this kind of person?
We can do this with (1) The example and (2) The empowerment of Jesus. Paul does not say it, but this is the grounding of all that he says here today.
Jesus is our (1) Example, model or template. And (2) His presence with us through the Holy Spirit and the Sacraments, especially the Eucharist, is our empowerment or strengthening for doing this.
Archbishop’s Annual Appeal
This weekend, all celebrants in the Archdiocese are asked to speak at the Masses in our parishes.
Archbishop O’Brien has asked us to reflect on what is called the Archbishop’s Annual Appeal. And what better way to do this than in the context of Paul’s passage on love today!
The Archbishop’s Annual Appeal invites us to help with the services and ministries that are beyond the level of any single parish. They are services that the Archdiocese itself leads and supports.
They include things like hospital chaplains, college campus ministries, assistance for schools and religious education programs in financially poor areas, homeless shelters, and relief to the impoverished and ravaged country of Haiti.
There is a full listing of everything that the Appeal supports in the flyer enclosed in today’s bulletin.
Some Specifics
Many of us have given to this Appeal in past years and some of us have already given this year.
On behalf of Archbishop O’Brien, I thank you very much for your generosity. And now, I will wrap up with just a few specifics.
First, each parish is assigned a goal or target that equals 9% of its annual offertory income. Our Lady of Grace’s target for this year is $46,000, but that is a target, and in the end, we give what we can give.
Second, I think it is fair to say that our giving to Our Lady of Grace comes first. The Archbishop does not want this appeal to hurt our weekly Offertory Collection.
Third, the parish Development Committee and I are recommending that we contribute to the Appeal an amount equivalent to 10% of what we give to the parish each year. So, if you contribute $1,000 a year to the parish, try to consider a gift of $100 to the Appeal and this gift can be made as a pledge and spread out over the next ten months.
Finally, each parish will receive back 25% of what it gives. So, 25% of what we as Our Lady of Grace give will be our share for special needs that we designate.
Our parish committees have decided to use our share for two equal purposes. One half for our sister parish of St. Cecilia’s in Baltimore City and one half for tuition assistance for parishioners going to Our Lady of Grace School. Regarding tuition assistance, the Archdiocese will match whatever we designate for this.
Conclusion
In conclusion I would ask each of us to approach the Archbishop’s Appeal as an expression of faith and of living the love that Saint Paul talks about today.
As always, I know that we will do our best. Thank you very much.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Weekly THIS AND THAT for December 27, 2010: Lessons for a New Year
That and That:
Lessons for a New Year
When we enter this world we come into it with nothing; we leave in the very same way. What remains of us between our entrance and exit is how we treated other people. The following are five important lessons for the New Year.
Fondly,
Father Nicholas
1st Important Lesson – The Cleaning Lady
During my second month of college, our professor gave us a pop quiz. I was a conscientious student and had breezed through the questions until I read the last one: “What is the first name of the woman who cleans the school?” Surely this was some kind of joke. I had seen the cleaning woman several times. She was tall, dark-haired and in her 50’s, but how would I know her name? I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank. Just before class ended, one student asked if the last question would count toward our quiz grade. “Absolutely,” said the professor. “In your careers, you will meet many people. All are significant. They deserve your attention and care, even if all you do is smile and say “Hello.” I’ve never forgotten that lesson. I also learned that her name was Dorothy.
2nd Important Lesson – Pickup in the Rain
One night, at 11:30 pm, an older African-American woman was standing on the side of an Alabama highway trying to endure a lashing rainstorm. Her car had broken down and she desperately needed a ride. Soaking wet, she decided to flag down the next car. A young white man stopped to help her, generally unheard of in those conflict-filled 1960’s. The man took her to safety, helped her get assistance, and put her into a taxicab. She seemed to be in a big hurry, but wrote down his Address and thanked him. Seven days went by and a knock came on the man’s door. To his surprise, a giant console color TV was delivered to his home. A Special note was attached. It read: “Thank you so much for assisting me on the highway the other night. The rain drenched not only my clothes, but also my spirits. Then you came along. Because of you, I was able to make it to my dying husband’s bedside just before he passed away. God Bless you for helping me and unselfishly serving others.” Sincerely, Mrs. Nat King Cole. You never know who the recipient of your kind may be. Jesus said it was he, himself.
3rd Important Lesson – Always remember those Who serve
In the days when an ice cream sundae cost much less, a 10-year-old boy entered a hotel coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a glass of water in front of him. “How much is an ice cream sundae?” he asked. “Fifty cents,” replied the waitress. The little boy pulled his hand out of his pocket and studied the coins in it. “Well, how much is a plain dish of ice cream?” he inquired. By now more people were waiting for a table and the waitress was growing impatient. “Thirty-five cents,” she brusquely replied. The little boy again counted his coins. “I'll have the plain ice cream,” he said. The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked away. The boy finished the ice cream, paid the cashier and left. When the waitress came back, she began to cry as she wiped down the table down. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were stacked two nickels and five pennies. You see, he couldn’t have the sundae, because he had to have enough left to leave her a tip.
4th Important Lesson – The obstacle in Our Path
In ancient times, a King had a boulder placed on a roadway then he hid himself and watched to see if anyone would remove the huge rock. Some of the King’s wealthiest merchants and courtiers came by and simply walked around it. Many loudly blamed the King for not keeping the roads clear, but no one did anything about getting the stone out of the way. A peasant came along carrying a load of vegetables. Upon approaching the boulder, the peasant laid down his burden and tried to move the stone to the side of the road. After much pushing and straining, he finally succeeded. When the peasant picked up his load of vegetables, he noticed a purse lying in the road where the boulder had been. The purse contained many gold coins and a note from the King indicating that the gold was for the person who removed the boulder from the roadway. The peasant learned what many of us never understand! Every obstacle presents an opportunity to improve our condition.
5th Important Lesson – Giving When it Counts
Many years ago, when I worked as a volunteer at a hospital, I got to know a little girl named Liz who was suffering from a rare and serious disease. Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood transfusion from her 5-year old brother, who had miraculously survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness. The doctor explained the situation to her little brother, and asked the little boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister. I saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, “Yes, I’ll do it if it will save her life.” As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning to her cheeks. Then his face grew pale and his smile faded. He looked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, “Will I start to die right away.” Being young, the little boy had misunderstood the doctor; he thought he was going to have to give his sister all of his blood in order to save her.
Lessons for a New Year
When we enter this world we come into it with nothing; we leave in the very same way. What remains of us between our entrance and exit is how we treated other people. The following are five important lessons for the New Year.
Fondly,
Father Nicholas
1st Important Lesson – The Cleaning Lady
During my second month of college, our professor gave us a pop quiz. I was a conscientious student and had breezed through the questions until I read the last one: “What is the first name of the woman who cleans the school?” Surely this was some kind of joke. I had seen the cleaning woman several times. She was tall, dark-haired and in her 50’s, but how would I know her name? I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank. Just before class ended, one student asked if the last question would count toward our quiz grade. “Absolutely,” said the professor. “In your careers, you will meet many people. All are significant. They deserve your attention and care, even if all you do is smile and say “Hello.” I’ve never forgotten that lesson. I also learned that her name was Dorothy.
2nd Important Lesson – Pickup in the Rain
One night, at 11:30 pm, an older African-American woman was standing on the side of an Alabama highway trying to endure a lashing rainstorm. Her car had broken down and she desperately needed a ride. Soaking wet, she decided to flag down the next car. A young white man stopped to help her, generally unheard of in those conflict-filled 1960’s. The man took her to safety, helped her get assistance, and put her into a taxicab. She seemed to be in a big hurry, but wrote down his Address and thanked him. Seven days went by and a knock came on the man’s door. To his surprise, a giant console color TV was delivered to his home. A Special note was attached. It read: “Thank you so much for assisting me on the highway the other night. The rain drenched not only my clothes, but also my spirits. Then you came along. Because of you, I was able to make it to my dying husband’s bedside just before he passed away. God Bless you for helping me and unselfishly serving others.” Sincerely, Mrs. Nat King Cole. You never know who the recipient of your kind may be. Jesus said it was he, himself.
3rd Important Lesson – Always remember those Who serve
In the days when an ice cream sundae cost much less, a 10-year-old boy entered a hotel coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a glass of water in front of him. “How much is an ice cream sundae?” he asked. “Fifty cents,” replied the waitress. The little boy pulled his hand out of his pocket and studied the coins in it. “Well, how much is a plain dish of ice cream?” he inquired. By now more people were waiting for a table and the waitress was growing impatient. “Thirty-five cents,” she brusquely replied. The little boy again counted his coins. “I'll have the plain ice cream,” he said. The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked away. The boy finished the ice cream, paid the cashier and left. When the waitress came back, she began to cry as she wiped down the table down. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were stacked two nickels and five pennies. You see, he couldn’t have the sundae, because he had to have enough left to leave her a tip.
4th Important Lesson – The obstacle in Our Path
In ancient times, a King had a boulder placed on a roadway then he hid himself and watched to see if anyone would remove the huge rock. Some of the King’s wealthiest merchants and courtiers came by and simply walked around it. Many loudly blamed the King for not keeping the roads clear, but no one did anything about getting the stone out of the way. A peasant came along carrying a load of vegetables. Upon approaching the boulder, the peasant laid down his burden and tried to move the stone to the side of the road. After much pushing and straining, he finally succeeded. When the peasant picked up his load of vegetables, he noticed a purse lying in the road where the boulder had been. The purse contained many gold coins and a note from the King indicating that the gold was for the person who removed the boulder from the roadway. The peasant learned what many of us never understand! Every obstacle presents an opportunity to improve our condition.
5th Important Lesson – Giving When it Counts
Many years ago, when I worked as a volunteer at a hospital, I got to know a little girl named Liz who was suffering from a rare and serious disease. Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood transfusion from her 5-year old brother, who had miraculously survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness. The doctor explained the situation to her little brother, and asked the little boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister. I saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, “Yes, I’ll do it if it will save her life.” As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning to her cheeks. Then his face grew pale and his smile faded. He looked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, “Will I start to die right away.” Being young, the little boy had misunderstood the doctor; he thought he was going to have to give his sister all of his blood in order to save her.
Weekly HOMILY for December 27, 2010: Deacon Preaching Sunday
Deacon Jim Prosser preached at Father Nicholas' Mass this weekend.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Weekly THIS AND THAT for January 24, 2010: Responding to Haiti = Living the Gospel
Responding to Haiti = Living the Gospel
We have all been bombarded with news and images of the devastating earthquake that took place in Haiti on January 12th. As disciples of Jesus Christ, our response is not simply about providing humanitarian aid. Rather, our response to our brothers and sisters in need is our response to the Gospel. In today’s Gospel, Jesus quotes Isaiah: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring glad tidings to the poor.” Jesus then tells his hearers that he himself fulfills this Scripture passage. (Luke 4: 16 – 21) As baptized believers, living in the Spirit of Jesus, we are called to continue his mission in our world. This is what we are doing as we respond to Haiti. And we do this not just as individuals, but as a Church – as the Body of Christ throughout the world. In our second reading for Mass today, Saint Paul teaches the Corinthians that we are the Body of Christ and “if one part suffers, all the parts suffer with it.” (1 Cor 12: 26)
This understanding of our membership in the Body of Christ is the reason that Pope Benedict and bishops called their people to a united response to those in desperate need. Our response is one of solidarity with our sisters and brothers in Christ and is made manifest in our prayer for those who have died, for those who are suffering, and for those who are assisting the victims, as well as in our financial and material aid.
Archbishop Bernardito Auza, the Vatican's apostolic nuncio in Haiti, told the Vatican missionary news agency Fides: "Port-au-Prince is completely devastated. The cathedral and the archbishop's residence, all the big churches, all the seminaries are reduced to rubble. I found priests and nuns on the street, who no longer have homes. The rector of the seminary survived, and so did the dean, but the seminarians are under the rubble. Everywhere there are cries coming from under the rubble." He said a study institute for men and women religious had collapsed, with many students inside as they attended a conference. The nunciature withstood the quake, and there were no injuries there.
On January 13th, the Catholic News Service reported that “Pope Benedict XVI prayed for victims of a massive earthquake in Haiti and urged the international community to provide generous assistance to the stricken population of the Caribbean nation. The victims included Archbishop Joseph Serge Miot of Port-au-Prince.
Pope Benedict said, "I appeal to the generosity of everyone, so that our brothers and sisters receive our concrete solidarity and the effective support of the international community in this moment of need and suffering." He also said that the Catholic Church's charity organizations would immediately move into action to assist those most in need.
Caritas Internationalis, the Vatican-based umbrella organization for Catholic charities, said it was mobilizing to provide immediate assistance to Haiti. On Jan. 13 it had already assembled an emergency relief team to fly to Haiti to assist Caritas members already working in the country.
Caritas Internationalis humanitarian director Alistair Dutton was leading the emergency relief team. "There is a strong Caritas presence in Haiti. We already know that Caritas staff will be providing support to survivors of the earthquake, such as food, shelter and comfort through churches and parish networks," Dutton said. "Caritas runs more than 200 hospitals and medical centers in Haiti. It is experienced and prepared to respond to humanitarian disasters there as a result of the frequent hurricanes."
Caritas also said the U.S.-based Catholic Relief Services had been in communication with its staff in Haiti. The local CRS office was still standing and CRS staff present at the time of the quake were safe, it said. Catholic Relief Services operates out of its national headquarters here in Baltimore.
On the local level, Archbishop O’Brien asked all parishes to conduct a collection for the relief of victims in Haiti, reminding us that our Archdiocese has a sister-diocese in Haiti. Here at Our Lady of Grace, your overwhelming generosity was manifested in the $8,047 that you donated to the special collection last weekend. Keep in mind that your prayers and your contributions are two of the many ways that you live the Gospel this very day! We, like Jesus, can say that the Scripture is being fulfilled in our hearing. Let us continue our solidarity with those in need of the Good News each day – those right around us as well as those far away!
Blessings,
Sister Mary Therese
We have all been bombarded with news and images of the devastating earthquake that took place in Haiti on January 12th. As disciples of Jesus Christ, our response is not simply about providing humanitarian aid. Rather, our response to our brothers and sisters in need is our response to the Gospel. In today’s Gospel, Jesus quotes Isaiah: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring glad tidings to the poor.” Jesus then tells his hearers that he himself fulfills this Scripture passage. (Luke 4: 16 – 21) As baptized believers, living in the Spirit of Jesus, we are called to continue his mission in our world. This is what we are doing as we respond to Haiti. And we do this not just as individuals, but as a Church – as the Body of Christ throughout the world. In our second reading for Mass today, Saint Paul teaches the Corinthians that we are the Body of Christ and “if one part suffers, all the parts suffer with it.” (1 Cor 12: 26)
This understanding of our membership in the Body of Christ is the reason that Pope Benedict and bishops called their people to a united response to those in desperate need. Our response is one of solidarity with our sisters and brothers in Christ and is made manifest in our prayer for those who have died, for those who are suffering, and for those who are assisting the victims, as well as in our financial and material aid.
Archbishop Bernardito Auza, the Vatican's apostolic nuncio in Haiti, told the Vatican missionary news agency Fides: "Port-au-Prince is completely devastated. The cathedral and the archbishop's residence, all the big churches, all the seminaries are reduced to rubble. I found priests and nuns on the street, who no longer have homes. The rector of the seminary survived, and so did the dean, but the seminarians are under the rubble. Everywhere there are cries coming from under the rubble." He said a study institute for men and women religious had collapsed, with many students inside as they attended a conference. The nunciature withstood the quake, and there were no injuries there.
On January 13th, the Catholic News Service reported that “Pope Benedict XVI prayed for victims of a massive earthquake in Haiti and urged the international community to provide generous assistance to the stricken population of the Caribbean nation. The victims included Archbishop Joseph Serge Miot of Port-au-Prince.
Pope Benedict said, "I appeal to the generosity of everyone, so that our brothers and sisters receive our concrete solidarity and the effective support of the international community in this moment of need and suffering." He also said that the Catholic Church's charity organizations would immediately move into action to assist those most in need.
Caritas Internationalis, the Vatican-based umbrella organization for Catholic charities, said it was mobilizing to provide immediate assistance to Haiti. On Jan. 13 it had already assembled an emergency relief team to fly to Haiti to assist Caritas members already working in the country.
Caritas Internationalis humanitarian director Alistair Dutton was leading the emergency relief team. "There is a strong Caritas presence in Haiti. We already know that Caritas staff will be providing support to survivors of the earthquake, such as food, shelter and comfort through churches and parish networks," Dutton said. "Caritas runs more than 200 hospitals and medical centers in Haiti. It is experienced and prepared to respond to humanitarian disasters there as a result of the frequent hurricanes."
Caritas also said the U.S.-based Catholic Relief Services had been in communication with its staff in Haiti. The local CRS office was still standing and CRS staff present at the time of the quake were safe, it said. Catholic Relief Services operates out of its national headquarters here in Baltimore.
On the local level, Archbishop O’Brien asked all parishes to conduct a collection for the relief of victims in Haiti, reminding us that our Archdiocese has a sister-diocese in Haiti. Here at Our Lady of Grace, your overwhelming generosity was manifested in the $8,047 that you donated to the special collection last weekend. Keep in mind that your prayers and your contributions are two of the many ways that you live the Gospel this very day! We, like Jesus, can say that the Scripture is being fulfilled in our hearing. Let us continue our solidarity with those in need of the Good News each day – those right around us as well as those far away!
Blessings,
Sister Mary Therese
Weekly HOMILY for January 24, 2010: Deacon Preaching Sunday
Deacon Jim Prosser preached at Father Nicholas' Masses this weekend.
Thursday, January 07, 2010
Weekly THIS AND THAT for January 17, 2010: Lessons for a New Year
That and That:
Lessons for a New Year
When we enter this world we come into it with nothing; we leave in the very same way. What remains of us between our entrance and exit is how we treated other people. The following are five important lessons for the New Year.
Fondly,
Father Nicholas
1st Important Lesson – The Cleaning Lady
During my second month of college, our professor gave us a pop quiz. I was a conscientious student and had breezed through the questions until I read the last one: “What is the first name of the woman who cleans the school?” Surely this was some kind of joke. I had seen the cleaning woman several times. She was tall, dark-haired and in her 50’s, but how would I know her name? I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank. Just before class ended, one student asked if the last question would count toward our quiz grade. “Absolutely,” said the professor. “In your careers, you will meet many people. All are significant. They deserve your attention and care, even if all you do is smile and say “Hello.” I’ve never forgotten that lesson. I also learned that her name was Dorothy.
2nd Important Lesson – Pickup in the Rain
One night, at 11:30 pm, an older African-American woman was standing on the side of an Alabama highway trying to endure a lashing rainstorm. Her car had broken down and she desperately needed a ride. Soaking wet, she decided to flag down the next car. A young white man stopped to help her, generally unheard of in those conflict-filled 1960’s. The man took her to safety, helped her get assistance, and put her into a taxicab. She seemed to be in a big hurry, but wrote down his Address and thanked him. Seven days went by and a knock came on the man’s door. To his surprise, a giant console color TV was delivered to his home. A Special note was attached. It read: “Thank you so much for assisting me on the highway the other night. The rain drenched not only my clothes, but also my spirits. Then you came along. Because of you, I was able to make it to my dying husband’s bedside just before he passed away. God Bless you for helping me and unselfishly serving others.” Sincerely, Mrs. Nat King Cole. You never know who the recipient of your kind may be. Jesus said it was he, himself.
3rd Important Lesson – Always remember those Who serve
In the days when an ice cream sundae cost much less, a 10-year-old boy entered a hotel coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a glass of water in front of him. “How much is an ice cream sundae?” he asked. “Fifty cents,” replied the waitress. The little boy pulled his hand out of his pocket and studied the coins in it. “Well, how much is a plain dish of ice cream?” he inquired. By now more people were waiting for a table and the waitress was growing impatient. “Thirty-five cents,” she brusquely replied. The little boy again counted his coins. “I'll have the plain ice cream,” he said. The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked away. The boy finished the ice cream, paid the cashier and left. When the waitress came back, she began to cry as she wiped down the table down. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were stacked two nickels and five pennies. You see, he couldn’t have the sundae, because he had to have enough left to leave her a tip.
4th Important Lesson – The obstacle in Our Path
In ancient times, a King had a boulder placed on a roadway then he hid himself and watched to see if anyone would remove the huge rock. Some of the King’s wealthiest merchants and courtiers came by and simply walked around it. Many loudly blamed the King for not keeping the roads clear, but no one did anything about getting the stone out of the way. A peasant came along carrying a load of vegetables. Upon approaching the boulder, the peasant laid down his burden and tried to move the stone to the side of the road. After much pushing and straining, he finally succeeded. When the peasant picked up his load of vegetables, he noticed a purse lying in the road where the boulder had been. The purse contained many gold coins and a note from the King indicating that the gold was for the person who removed the boulder from the roadway. The peasant learned what many of us never understand! Every obstacle presents an opportunity to improve our condition.
5th Important Lesson – Giving When it Counts
Many years ago, when I worked as a volunteer at a hospital, I got to know a little girl named Liz who was suffering from a rare and serious disease. Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood transfusion from her 5-year old brother, who had miraculously survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness. The doctor explained the situation to her little brother, and asked the little boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister. I saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, “Yes, I’ll do it if it will save her life.” As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning to her cheeks. Then his face grew pale and his smile faded. He looked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, “Will I start to die right away.” Being young, the little boy had misunderstood the doctor; he thought he was going to have to give his sister all of his blood in order to save her.
Lessons for a New Year
When we enter this world we come into it with nothing; we leave in the very same way. What remains of us between our entrance and exit is how we treated other people. The following are five important lessons for the New Year.
Fondly,
Father Nicholas
1st Important Lesson – The Cleaning Lady
During my second month of college, our professor gave us a pop quiz. I was a conscientious student and had breezed through the questions until I read the last one: “What is the first name of the woman who cleans the school?” Surely this was some kind of joke. I had seen the cleaning woman several times. She was tall, dark-haired and in her 50’s, but how would I know her name? I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank. Just before class ended, one student asked if the last question would count toward our quiz grade. “Absolutely,” said the professor. “In your careers, you will meet many people. All are significant. They deserve your attention and care, even if all you do is smile and say “Hello.” I’ve never forgotten that lesson. I also learned that her name was Dorothy.
2nd Important Lesson – Pickup in the Rain
One night, at 11:30 pm, an older African-American woman was standing on the side of an Alabama highway trying to endure a lashing rainstorm. Her car had broken down and she desperately needed a ride. Soaking wet, she decided to flag down the next car. A young white man stopped to help her, generally unheard of in those conflict-filled 1960’s. The man took her to safety, helped her get assistance, and put her into a taxicab. She seemed to be in a big hurry, but wrote down his Address and thanked him. Seven days went by and a knock came on the man’s door. To his surprise, a giant console color TV was delivered to his home. A Special note was attached. It read: “Thank you so much for assisting me on the highway the other night. The rain drenched not only my clothes, but also my spirits. Then you came along. Because of you, I was able to make it to my dying husband’s bedside just before he passed away. God Bless you for helping me and unselfishly serving others.” Sincerely, Mrs. Nat King Cole. You never know who the recipient of your kind may be. Jesus said it was he, himself.
3rd Important Lesson – Always remember those Who serve
In the days when an ice cream sundae cost much less, a 10-year-old boy entered a hotel coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a glass of water in front of him. “How much is an ice cream sundae?” he asked. “Fifty cents,” replied the waitress. The little boy pulled his hand out of his pocket and studied the coins in it. “Well, how much is a plain dish of ice cream?” he inquired. By now more people were waiting for a table and the waitress was growing impatient. “Thirty-five cents,” she brusquely replied. The little boy again counted his coins. “I'll have the plain ice cream,” he said. The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked away. The boy finished the ice cream, paid the cashier and left. When the waitress came back, she began to cry as she wiped down the table down. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were stacked two nickels and five pennies. You see, he couldn’t have the sundae, because he had to have enough left to leave her a tip.
4th Important Lesson – The obstacle in Our Path
In ancient times, a King had a boulder placed on a roadway then he hid himself and watched to see if anyone would remove the huge rock. Some of the King’s wealthiest merchants and courtiers came by and simply walked around it. Many loudly blamed the King for not keeping the roads clear, but no one did anything about getting the stone out of the way. A peasant came along carrying a load of vegetables. Upon approaching the boulder, the peasant laid down his burden and tried to move the stone to the side of the road. After much pushing and straining, he finally succeeded. When the peasant picked up his load of vegetables, he noticed a purse lying in the road where the boulder had been. The purse contained many gold coins and a note from the King indicating that the gold was for the person who removed the boulder from the roadway. The peasant learned what many of us never understand! Every obstacle presents an opportunity to improve our condition.
5th Important Lesson – Giving When it Counts
Many years ago, when I worked as a volunteer at a hospital, I got to know a little girl named Liz who was suffering from a rare and serious disease. Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood transfusion from her 5-year old brother, who had miraculously survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness. The doctor explained the situation to her little brother, and asked the little boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister. I saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, “Yes, I’ll do it if it will save her life.” As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning to her cheeks. Then his face grew pale and his smile faded. He looked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, “Will I start to die right away.” Being young, the little boy had misunderstood the doctor; he thought he was going to have to give his sister all of his blood in order to save her.
Weekly HOMILY for January 17, 2010: Father Nicholas is on "Christmas Break"
Father Nicholas is on "Christmas Break" this weekend.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Weekly HOMILY for January 10, 2010: Baptism Can Make a Difference
Feast of the Baptism of the Lord, Cycle C
Our Lady of Grace
January 10, 2010
Baptism Can Make a Difference
By (Rev. Msgr.) Nicholas P. Amato
The Name “Nicholas”
You all know that my name is Nicholas. I am named according to Italian customo after my maternal grandfather.
My full name is Nicholas Paul Amato, and my middle name is my father’s. This was all carefully explained to me by my parents from the time I was a child and it seemed that they explained over and over to me, though I must admit, I never tired of hearing it.
I learned early that Nicola – Italian for Nicholas – ends in an “a” because there is no “Nicola” in Italian. The feminine form of my name is Nicoletta.
My mother was clear that I bore the name of her father. And he was a “great” man.
I am glad they named me Nicholas – or Nicola, which I got very used to as a first generation Italian.
And that name has always designated me apart from all others in my world – from the time I was a baby right up to today at age sixty-eight, soon to be sixty-nine.
The Names at Baptism
When we are baptized, our parents formally proclaimed to us our given name; it was whispered in our ears a hundred times – “Michael” or “Jennifer” or “Patrick” or whatever it is.
But, at Baptism, we are also designated by some other names. We are baptized “In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”
And from the moment of baptism on, these names – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – these names are also to designate something about us. They designate something of (1) Who we are or (2) Who we are to become as persons.
The Name “Father”
We are first baptized “In the name of the Father.”
This makes us aware that there is a God and that God is our divine parent, the divine parent to all of us. It makes us aware that God is the creator and author of life and of all that is.
The result of the name “Father” is beautifully stated in one of the Old Testament Psalms. God speaks through the psalmist and says: “Be still and know that I am God.”
And so, we are to be still, to stop and to recall that we are not God. We are human, dependent on God for our being and life and all that we have.
As specifically human, we are in need, always in need of growing emotionally, spiritually, and relationally.
In fact, this humble openness to growing is to mark every step of our human journey.
The Name “Son”
And then, we are baptized “In the name…of the Son.”
This makes us aware that God initially has gone out of himself and reached out to us. He has made the first move. It makes us aware that it is God who has taken on our very humanity in Jesus.
The result of this name “Son” is that we now understand that God is completely self-giving. We understand, as Saint John says, that God is love – pure love, nothing but love, love itself.
And with that understanding, we know that the Father’s voice at Jesus’ Baptism also spoke to us at our own Baptism. That voice, the Father’s voice, said to each of us: “You are my beloved son. You are my beloved daughter.”
With this, we know then, that we are loved unconditionally. We have a firm foundation for our sense of self-worth as human beings.
The Name “Holy Spirit’
And finally, we are baptized “In the name…of the Holy Spirit.”
This makes us aware of God as Spirit. It makes us aware that the spiritual part of you and me and all of us is God, God within us. Imagine that! God within us!
The result of this name “Holy Spirit” is that you or I are not alone; never alone! God is with me at every moment and in every experience of life.
And the result of this name is also a reverence for all persons. Why?
Because the Spirit of God, the Holy Spirit is here – in you and me and all humanity – whether a person is likeable or unlikable, deserving or undeserving, educated or illiterate, First World or Third World!
And so we reverence God here just as we reverence God who transcends this earth and God who comes to us in Jesus.
Conclusion
So, our Baptism, “In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” designates something profoundly important about you and me.
These names designate me as human and not God, as beloved and unconditionally loved, and as having with all others the presence of God within and it does it just as surely as you are the name you bear.
That is the wonderful, most important, positive message of Christianity and Catholicism.
Our Lady of Grace
January 10, 2010
Baptism Can Make a Difference
By (Rev. Msgr.) Nicholas P. Amato
The Name “Nicholas”
You all know that my name is Nicholas. I am named according to Italian customo after my maternal grandfather.
My full name is Nicholas Paul Amato, and my middle name is my father’s. This was all carefully explained to me by my parents from the time I was a child and it seemed that they explained over and over to me, though I must admit, I never tired of hearing it.
I learned early that Nicola – Italian for Nicholas – ends in an “a” because there is no “Nicola” in Italian. The feminine form of my name is Nicoletta.
My mother was clear that I bore the name of her father. And he was a “great” man.
I am glad they named me Nicholas – or Nicola, which I got very used to as a first generation Italian.
And that name has always designated me apart from all others in my world – from the time I was a baby right up to today at age sixty-eight, soon to be sixty-nine.
The Names at Baptism
When we are baptized, our parents formally proclaimed to us our given name; it was whispered in our ears a hundred times – “Michael” or “Jennifer” or “Patrick” or whatever it is.
But, at Baptism, we are also designated by some other names. We are baptized “In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”
And from the moment of baptism on, these names – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – these names are also to designate something about us. They designate something of (1) Who we are or (2) Who we are to become as persons.
The Name “Father”
We are first baptized “In the name of the Father.”
This makes us aware that there is a God and that God is our divine parent, the divine parent to all of us. It makes us aware that God is the creator and author of life and of all that is.
The result of the name “Father” is beautifully stated in one of the Old Testament Psalms. God speaks through the psalmist and says: “Be still and know that I am God.”
And so, we are to be still, to stop and to recall that we are not God. We are human, dependent on God for our being and life and all that we have.
As specifically human, we are in need, always in need of growing emotionally, spiritually, and relationally.
In fact, this humble openness to growing is to mark every step of our human journey.
The Name “Son”
And then, we are baptized “In the name…of the Son.”
This makes us aware that God initially has gone out of himself and reached out to us. He has made the first move. It makes us aware that it is God who has taken on our very humanity in Jesus.
The result of this name “Son” is that we now understand that God is completely self-giving. We understand, as Saint John says, that God is love – pure love, nothing but love, love itself.
And with that understanding, we know that the Father’s voice at Jesus’ Baptism also spoke to us at our own Baptism. That voice, the Father’s voice, said to each of us: “You are my beloved son. You are my beloved daughter.”
With this, we know then, that we are loved unconditionally. We have a firm foundation for our sense of self-worth as human beings.
The Name “Holy Spirit’
And finally, we are baptized “In the name…of the Holy Spirit.”
This makes us aware of God as Spirit. It makes us aware that the spiritual part of you and me and all of us is God, God within us. Imagine that! God within us!
The result of this name “Holy Spirit” is that you or I are not alone; never alone! God is with me at every moment and in every experience of life.
And the result of this name is also a reverence for all persons. Why?
Because the Spirit of God, the Holy Spirit is here – in you and me and all humanity – whether a person is likeable or unlikable, deserving or undeserving, educated or illiterate, First World or Third World!
And so we reverence God here just as we reverence God who transcends this earth and God who comes to us in Jesus.
Conclusion
So, our Baptism, “In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” designates something profoundly important about you and me.
These names designate me as human and not God, as beloved and unconditionally loved, and as having with all others the presence of God within and it does it just as surely as you are the name you bear.
That is the wonderful, most important, positive message of Christianity and Catholicism.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Weekly THIS AND THAT for January 3, 2010: Great Resolutions for a New Year
This and That
Great Resolutions for a New Year
Every year we make big resolutions that we rarely keep. These are some small and some large ones that might add some creative alternatives to your usual selections.
Best wishes for a New Year filled with good health and prosperity and the keeping of any number of the following.
Fondly,
Father Nicholas
#1: Give people more than they expect and do it cheerfully.
#2: Marry a man/woman you love to talk to. As you get older, their conversational skills will be as important as any other.
#3: Don’t believe all you hear, spend all you have, or sleep all you want.
#4: When you say, “I love you,” mean it.
#5: When you say, “I’m sorry,” look the person in the eye.
#6: Be engaged at least six months before you get married.
#7: Believe in love at first sight.
#8: Never laugh at anyone’s dream. People who don’t have dreams don’t have much.
#9: Love deeply and passionately. You might get hurt, but it’s the only way to live life completely.
#10: In disagreements, fight fairly. And always remember, no name calling.
#11: Don’t judge people by their relatives.
#12: Talk slowly, but think quickly.
#13: When someone asks you a question you don’t want to answer, smile and ask, “Why do you want to know?”
#14: Remember that great love and great achievements involve great risk.
#15: Say “God bless you” when you hear someone sneeze.
#16: When you lose, don’t lose the lesson!
#17: Remember the three R’s: Respect for self, Respect for others, and
Responsibility for all your actions.
#18: Don’t let a little dispute injure a great friendship.
#19: When you realize you’ve made a mistake, take immediate steps to correct it.
#20: Smile when picking up the phone. The caller will hear it in your voice.
#21: Spend some time alone every day.
Great Resolutions for a New Year
Every year we make big resolutions that we rarely keep. These are some small and some large ones that might add some creative alternatives to your usual selections.
Best wishes for a New Year filled with good health and prosperity and the keeping of any number of the following.
Fondly,
Father Nicholas
#1: Give people more than they expect and do it cheerfully.
#2: Marry a man/woman you love to talk to. As you get older, their conversational skills will be as important as any other.
#3: Don’t believe all you hear, spend all you have, or sleep all you want.
#4: When you say, “I love you,” mean it.
#5: When you say, “I’m sorry,” look the person in the eye.
#6: Be engaged at least six months before you get married.
#7: Believe in love at first sight.
#8: Never laugh at anyone’s dream. People who don’t have dreams don’t have much.
#9: Love deeply and passionately. You might get hurt, but it’s the only way to live life completely.
#10: In disagreements, fight fairly. And always remember, no name calling.
#11: Don’t judge people by their relatives.
#12: Talk slowly, but think quickly.
#13: When someone asks you a question you don’t want to answer, smile and ask, “Why do you want to know?”
#14: Remember that great love and great achievements involve great risk.
#15: Say “God bless you” when you hear someone sneeze.
#16: When you lose, don’t lose the lesson!
#17: Remember the three R’s: Respect for self, Respect for others, and
Responsibility for all your actions.
#18: Don’t let a little dispute injure a great friendship.
#19: When you realize you’ve made a mistake, take immediate steps to correct it.
#20: Smile when picking up the phone. The caller will hear it in your voice.
#21: Spend some time alone every day.
Weekly HOMILY for January 3, 2010: What Star Do You Follow?
Feast of the Epiphany, Cycle C
Our Lady of Grace
January 3, 2010
What Star Do You Follow?
By (Rev. Msgr.) Nicholas P. Amato
John
There is a story that a man named John tells about himself.
John’s father was a common laborer who could barely provide for his family. His mother was chronically ill and in need of medical care that the family could ill afford.
Life was living in a succession of small apartments, with meager meals, third-hand furniture and hand-me-down clothes. All John wanted to do was escape his poverty.
And so, John focused on school and work. By the age of forty, he had a prestigious position with a New York investment firm, a beautiful home and family, and had amassed an impressive portfolio.
The poverty of John’s childhood was a mere memory. Then his father died.
John saw his father as a failure. Weeks after his father’s death, he went to the small rundown apartment where his father lived alone.
John was embarrassed by the rickety old furniture, the stained and faded walls, and the few possessions his father had. In the bedroom closet, he found a box marked “Christmas Stuff.”
Inside John found the construction paper ornaments and lights that they used to put on their Christmas tree. He also found the pieces of the family’s manger scene wrapped in old newspaper.
Then John discovered an envelope taped to the underneath of the manger. He opened it and found a letter written by his father, dated Christmas 1955.
Dear Johnny
The letter began: “Hi Johnny, I’m your daddy.
“I’ve waited so long to say that. Johnny, to be your daddy means loving you just because you are my son.
“There’s so much joy in my heart, so many dreams for you. You have brought joy into our lives, a joy that your mom and I thought we’d never know.
“You see, Johnny, a few weeks before we were married, the doctors gave us the sad news that, because of mom’s many physical problems, we could never have a child of our own. We were crushed.
“Every morning and evening, we prayed on our knees asking God for a miracle. Months turned into years and then, much to everyone’s surprise, you were born at 12:01am on December 8th.
“ Son, I’ll never be rich, but I believe that God will carry us every step of the way. We’ll always have each other and that’s more than I ever hoped for, much more than I probably deserve.
“Some day, Johnny, you’ll understand how I’m feeling. Just keep in mind who you are, where you’ve come from, and how much you are loved.
“Hold the blessings of Christmas close to your heart, because you are one of them. You are forever our miracle child.”
Johnny just sat there in tears, clutching the most valuable piece of paper he had ever held. He realized how rich his parents were – and how poor he had become.
What Star Do We Follow?
That touching story raises one important question for us: What star are we following in our lives?
In today’s Gospel, the Magi or wise men follow the star that leads them to the newborn Messiah or King. The truth is that each of us follows some star.
These Wise Men move us to ask ourselves: “What star do we follow?” “What star forms the meaning, purpose and direction of our lives?”
Do we navigate by a star that leads us to success in business, studies or sports? Or do we follow a star that leads to money, esteem, position or security?
In other words, do we follow stars that change and that will someday flame out of the sky altogether?
Or, do we fix our lives on the great star of God, namely Jesus?
Do we follow the star that leads us to a relationship with the Lord and enriched by that finding, that presence, are we then able to reach out to others with relationships of love, faithfulness, fairness, honesty, integrity, and compassion?
Conclusion
So, on this feast of star and Savior, we are asked, “What star are you following?”
The good news is that it is never too late to discover, as Johnny does in his story we just heard, that the real wealth is found by following the star and the light of Jesus.
Our Lady of Grace
January 3, 2010
What Star Do You Follow?
By (Rev. Msgr.) Nicholas P. Amato
John
There is a story that a man named John tells about himself.
John’s father was a common laborer who could barely provide for his family. His mother was chronically ill and in need of medical care that the family could ill afford.
Life was living in a succession of small apartments, with meager meals, third-hand furniture and hand-me-down clothes. All John wanted to do was escape his poverty.
And so, John focused on school and work. By the age of forty, he had a prestigious position with a New York investment firm, a beautiful home and family, and had amassed an impressive portfolio.
The poverty of John’s childhood was a mere memory. Then his father died.
John saw his father as a failure. Weeks after his father’s death, he went to the small rundown apartment where his father lived alone.
John was embarrassed by the rickety old furniture, the stained and faded walls, and the few possessions his father had. In the bedroom closet, he found a box marked “Christmas Stuff.”
Inside John found the construction paper ornaments and lights that they used to put on their Christmas tree. He also found the pieces of the family’s manger scene wrapped in old newspaper.
Then John discovered an envelope taped to the underneath of the manger. He opened it and found a letter written by his father, dated Christmas 1955.
Dear Johnny
The letter began: “Hi Johnny, I’m your daddy.
“I’ve waited so long to say that. Johnny, to be your daddy means loving you just because you are my son.
“There’s so much joy in my heart, so many dreams for you. You have brought joy into our lives, a joy that your mom and I thought we’d never know.
“You see, Johnny, a few weeks before we were married, the doctors gave us the sad news that, because of mom’s many physical problems, we could never have a child of our own. We were crushed.
“Every morning and evening, we prayed on our knees asking God for a miracle. Months turned into years and then, much to everyone’s surprise, you were born at 12:01am on December 8th.
“ Son, I’ll never be rich, but I believe that God will carry us every step of the way. We’ll always have each other and that’s more than I ever hoped for, much more than I probably deserve.
“Some day, Johnny, you’ll understand how I’m feeling. Just keep in mind who you are, where you’ve come from, and how much you are loved.
“Hold the blessings of Christmas close to your heart, because you are one of them. You are forever our miracle child.”
Johnny just sat there in tears, clutching the most valuable piece of paper he had ever held. He realized how rich his parents were – and how poor he had become.
What Star Do We Follow?
That touching story raises one important question for us: What star are we following in our lives?
In today’s Gospel, the Magi or wise men follow the star that leads them to the newborn Messiah or King. The truth is that each of us follows some star.
These Wise Men move us to ask ourselves: “What star do we follow?” “What star forms the meaning, purpose and direction of our lives?”
Do we navigate by a star that leads us to success in business, studies or sports? Or do we follow a star that leads to money, esteem, position or security?
In other words, do we follow stars that change and that will someday flame out of the sky altogether?
Or, do we fix our lives on the great star of God, namely Jesus?
Do we follow the star that leads us to a relationship with the Lord and enriched by that finding, that presence, are we then able to reach out to others with relationships of love, faithfulness, fairness, honesty, integrity, and compassion?
Conclusion
So, on this feast of star and Savior, we are asked, “What star are you following?”
The good news is that it is never too late to discover, as Johnny does in his story we just heard, that the real wealth is found by following the star and the light of Jesus.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Weekly THIS AND THAT for January 1, 2010: No This and That for New Year's Day
There was no bulletin published for New Year's Day.
Weekly HOMILY for January 1, 2010: Images of Active Silence
Solemnity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, The Mother of God
Our Lady of Grace
January 1, 2010
Images of Active Silence
By (Rev. Msgr.) Nicholas P. Amato
St. Bernard of Clairvaux
St. Bernard of Clairvaux was once traveling with a poor, uneducated farmer, who noticed that the abbot kept his eyes cast downward.
When the farmer asked why the saint wasn’t looking at the beautiful countryside, Bernard explained that he wanted to avoid distractions while praying.
In response, the farmer boasted, “I’m never distracted when I pray.” The saint objected, “I don’t believe it. Now let me make a deal with you. If you can say the Our Father without one distraction, I’ll give you this mule I’m riding. But if you don’t succeed, you must come with me and be a monk.”
The farmer thought it over for a while and finally agreed and began praying aloud confidently, “Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed by thy name...” Then, after pausing for moment, he asked St. Bernard, “Does the mule include the saddle and the bridle, too?”
I think we can all relate to that. And if we find ourselves fighting distractions when we try to pray, imagine what our interior chamber looks like when we’re not trying to pray!
On this Feast of the Solemnity of Mary, I’d like to ask, “How must our hearts be if we are to pray in a way that creates a transformation in us?”
How are we to be protected from distraction by the glitter and noise of a consumer society?
Mary’s Life
Without a doubt, our lives tend to be very noisy, distracted, rushed, and full of self-centered worries and self-absorbed preoccupations.
At any moment of the day, if we were able to take an x-ray of the inner chamber of our soul, it would probably look like a very messy basement or a very cluttered garage, with all sorts of ideas, desires, regrets, hopes, and half-cooked thoughts strewn about like dirty clothes, broken toys, and unread magazines.
But Mary’s “inner chamber,” if you will, was different.
She had a busy life as well. In fact without microwave oven, washing machine, telephone, and all the other modern timesaving devices, her life may have been busier than ours.
And yet, she kept that inner chamber neat and ordered. And as a result, she was able to hear the many gentle messages that God sent her through the daily events of her life.
As the Gospel tells us, “She kept all these things and reflected on them in her heart.”
Images of Active Silence
Perhaps Mary’s heart was like the smooth surface of a deep pond: clear and quiet, and able to reflect accurately the sky, the sun, and the trees. And when a rock was thrown into it, she absorbed it through deep reflection, and soon the momentary disturbance and ripples smoothed out, and she was back to clarity and light.
Or perhaps her heart was like the inside of a violin: well-shaped by her faith and love, uncluttered, and therefore always ready to receive the notes that God wanted to play on the strings of her daily life.
Or still again, perhaps her heart was like a perfectly constructed canoe: resilient and strong because of her self-mastery, but light and flexible, uncluttered with selfish worries and ambitions, and therefore able to receive God’s Word, to welcome it, and to continue moving easily through the stream of life.
What Image Speaks to You?
What image of Mary’s heart speaks to you in the midst of your distractions and challenges?
The smooth surface of a deep pond? The inside of a violin? Or a perfectly constructed canoe?
This was Mary’s interior life, the secret to her wisdom and St. Luke in the Gospel being able to say, “Mary kept all these things, and reflected on them in her heart.”
Whichever it is, it holds the possibility of you reflecting on the events of your life in this New Year with a new sense of purpose and the possibility of putting you in touch with the very presence of God as it did for Mary.
Our Lady of Grace
January 1, 2010
Images of Active Silence
By (Rev. Msgr.) Nicholas P. Amato
St. Bernard of Clairvaux
St. Bernard of Clairvaux was once traveling with a poor, uneducated farmer, who noticed that the abbot kept his eyes cast downward.
When the farmer asked why the saint wasn’t looking at the beautiful countryside, Bernard explained that he wanted to avoid distractions while praying.
In response, the farmer boasted, “I’m never distracted when I pray.” The saint objected, “I don’t believe it. Now let me make a deal with you. If you can say the Our Father without one distraction, I’ll give you this mule I’m riding. But if you don’t succeed, you must come with me and be a monk.”
The farmer thought it over for a while and finally agreed and began praying aloud confidently, “Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed by thy name...” Then, after pausing for moment, he asked St. Bernard, “Does the mule include the saddle and the bridle, too?”
I think we can all relate to that. And if we find ourselves fighting distractions when we try to pray, imagine what our interior chamber looks like when we’re not trying to pray!
On this Feast of the Solemnity of Mary, I’d like to ask, “How must our hearts be if we are to pray in a way that creates a transformation in us?”
How are we to be protected from distraction by the glitter and noise of a consumer society?
Mary’s Life
Without a doubt, our lives tend to be very noisy, distracted, rushed, and full of self-centered worries and self-absorbed preoccupations.
At any moment of the day, if we were able to take an x-ray of the inner chamber of our soul, it would probably look like a very messy basement or a very cluttered garage, with all sorts of ideas, desires, regrets, hopes, and half-cooked thoughts strewn about like dirty clothes, broken toys, and unread magazines.
But Mary’s “inner chamber,” if you will, was different.
She had a busy life as well. In fact without microwave oven, washing machine, telephone, and all the other modern timesaving devices, her life may have been busier than ours.
And yet, she kept that inner chamber neat and ordered. And as a result, she was able to hear the many gentle messages that God sent her through the daily events of her life.
As the Gospel tells us, “She kept all these things and reflected on them in her heart.”
Images of Active Silence
Perhaps Mary’s heart was like the smooth surface of a deep pond: clear and quiet, and able to reflect accurately the sky, the sun, and the trees. And when a rock was thrown into it, she absorbed it through deep reflection, and soon the momentary disturbance and ripples smoothed out, and she was back to clarity and light.
Or perhaps her heart was like the inside of a violin: well-shaped by her faith and love, uncluttered, and therefore always ready to receive the notes that God wanted to play on the strings of her daily life.
Or still again, perhaps her heart was like a perfectly constructed canoe: resilient and strong because of her self-mastery, but light and flexible, uncluttered with selfish worries and ambitions, and therefore able to receive God’s Word, to welcome it, and to continue moving easily through the stream of life.
What Image Speaks to You?
What image of Mary’s heart speaks to you in the midst of your distractions and challenges?
The smooth surface of a deep pond? The inside of a violin? Or a perfectly constructed canoe?
This was Mary’s interior life, the secret to her wisdom and St. Luke in the Gospel being able to say, “Mary kept all these things, and reflected on them in her heart.”
Whichever it is, it holds the possibility of you reflecting on the events of your life in this New Year with a new sense of purpose and the possibility of putting you in touch with the very presence of God as it did for Mary.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Weekly THIS AND THAT for December 25, 2009: The Power of Kindness at Christmas; a Girl with an Apple
This and That:
The Power of Kindness at Christmas: A Girl With an Apple
This is a story of Herman Rosenblat of Miami Beach, Florida and is being made into a movie called “The Fence.” It begs the question this Christmas Day, “Who is out there in your life ‘imprisoned’ in some way that needs your presence if only with ‘an apple’?” A blessed Christmas to you and your loved ones.
Fondly,
Father Nicholas
August 1942. Piotrkow, Poland: The sky was gloomy that morning as we waited anxiously. All the men, women and children of Piotrkow’s Jewish ghetto had been herded into a square. Word had gotten around that we were being moved. My father had only recently died from typhus, which had run rampant through the crowded ghetto. My greatest fear was that our family would be separated. “Whatever you do,” Isidore, my eldest brother, whispered to me, “don’t tell them your age. Say you’re sixteen.” “I was tall for a boy of 11, so I could pull it off. That way I might be deemed valuable as a worker. An SS man approached me, boots clicking against the cobblestones. He looked me up and down, and then asked my age. “Sixteen,” I said. He directed me to the left, where my three brothers and other healthy young men already stood. My mother was motioned to the right with the other women, children, sick and elderly people. I whispered to Isidore, “Why?” He didn’t answer. I ran to Mama’s side and said I wanted to stay with her. “No,” she said sternly. “Get away. Don’t be a nuisance. Go with your brothers.” She had never spoken so harshly before. But I understood; she was protecting me. She loved me so much that, just this once, she pretended not to. It was the last I ever saw of her.
My brothers and I were transported in a cattle car to Germany. We arrived at the Buchenwald Concentration Camp one night weeks later and were led into a crowded barrack. The next day we were issued uniforms and identification numbers. “Don’t call me Herman anymore.” I said to my brothers. “Call me 94983.” I was put to work in the camp’s crematorium, loading the dead into a hand-cranked elevator. I, too, felt dead. Hardened, I had become a number. Soon, my brothers and I were sent to Schlieben, one of Buchenwald's sub-camps near Berlin.
One morning I thought I heard my mother’s voice. “Son,” she said softly but clearly, “I am going to send you an angel.” Then I woke up. Just a dream. A beautiful dream. But in this place there could be no angels. There was only work. And hunger. And fear. A couple of days later, I was walking around the camp, around the barracks, near the barbed-wire fence where the guards could not easily see. I was alone. On the other side of the fence, I spotted someone: a little girl with light, almost luminous curls. She was half-hidden behind a birch tree. I glanced around to make sure no one saw me. I called to her softly in German. “Do you have something to eat?” She didn’t understand. I inched closer to the fence and repeated the question in Polish. She stepped forward. I was thin and gaunt, with rags wrapped around my feet, but the girl looked unafraid. In her eyes, I saw life. She pulled an apple from her woolen jacket and threw it over the fence. I grabbed the fruit and, as I started to run away, I heard her say faintly, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I returned to the same spot by the fence at the same time every day. She was always there with something for me to eat – a hunk of bread or, better yet, an apple. We didn’t dare speak or linger. To be caught would mean death for us both. I didn’t know anything about her, just a kind farm girl, except that she understood Polish. What was her name? Why was she risking her life for me? Hope was in such short supply, and this girl on the other side of the fence gave me some, as nourishing in its way as the bread and apples.
Nearly seven months later, my brothers and I were crammed into a coal car and shipped to Theresienstadt Camp in Czechoslovakia. “Don’t return,” I told the girl that day. “We’re leaving.” I turned toward the barracks and didn’t look back, didn’t even say good-bye to the little girl whose name I’d never learned, the girl with the apples. We were in Theresienstadt for three months. The war was winding down and Allied forces were closing in, yet my fate seemed sealed. On May 10, 1945, I was scheduled to die in the gas chamber at 10:00am. In the quiet of dawn, I tried to prepare myself. So many times death seemed ready to claim me, but somehow I’d survived. Now, it was over. I thought of my parents. At least, I thought, we will be reunited.
But at 8:00am there was a commotion. I heard shouts, and saw people running every which way through camp. I caught up with my brothers. Russian troops had liberated the camp! The gates swung open. Everyone was running, so I did too. Amazingly, all of my brothers had survived; I’m not sure how. But I knew that the girl with the apples had been the key to my survival. In a place where evil seemed triumphant, one person’s goodness had saved my life, had given me hope in a place where there was none. My mother had promised to send me an angel, and the angel had come.
Eventually I made my way to England where I was sponsored by a Jewish charity, put up in a hostel with other boys who had survived the Holocaust and trained in electronics. Then I came to America, where my brother Sam had already moved. I served in the U.S. Army during the Korean War, and returned to New York City after two years. By August 1957 I’d opened my own electronics repair shop. I was starting to settle in. One day, my friend Sid, who I knew from England, called me. “I’ve got a date. She’s got a Polish friend. Let’s double date.” A blind date? Nah, that wasn’t for me. But Sid kept pestering me, and a few days later we headed up to the Bronx to pick up his date and her friend Roma. I had to admit, for a blind date this wasn’t so bad. Roma was a nurse at a Bronx hospital. She was kind and smart. Beautiful, too, with swirling brown curls and green, almond-shaped eyes that sparkled with life. The four of us drove out to Coney Island. Roma was easy to talk to, easy to be with. Turned out she was wary of blind dates too! We were both just doing our friends a favor. We took a stroll on the boardwalk, enjoying the salty Atlantic breeze, and then had dinner by the shore. I couldn’t remember having a better time. We piled back into Sid’s car, Roma and I sharing the backseat. As European Jews who had survived the War, we were aware that much had been left unsaid between us. She broached the subject, “Where were you,” she asked softly, “during the war?” “The camps,” I said, the terrible memories still vivid, the irreparable loss. I had tried to forget. But you can never forget.
She nodded. “My family was hiding on a farm in Germany, not far from Berlin,” she told me. “My father knew a priest, and he got us Aryan papers.” I imagined how she must have suffered too, fear, a constant companion. And yet, here we were both survivors, in a new world. “There was a camp next to the farm.” Roma continued. “I saw a boy there and I would throw him apples every day.” What an amazing coincidence that she had helped some other boy. “What did he look like?” I asked. “He was tall, skinny, and hungry. I must have seen him every day for six months.” My heart was racing. I couldn’t believe it. This couldn’t be. Did he tell you one day not to come back because he was leaving Schlieben?'
Roma looked at me in amazement. “Yes!” “That was me!” I was ready to burst with joy and awe, flooded with emotions. I couldn’t believe it! My angel! “I’m not letting you go.” I said to Roma. And in the back of the car on that blind date, I proposed to her. I didn’t want to wait. “You’re crazy!” she said. But she invited me to meet her parents for Shabbat dinner the following week. There was so much I looked forward to learning about Roma, but the most important things I always knew: her steadfastness, her goodness. For many months, in the worst of circumstances, she had come to the fence and given me hope. Now that I’d found her again, I could never let her go. That day, she said yes. And I kept my word. After nearly 50 years of marriage, two children and three grandchildren, I have never let her go.
The Power of Kindness at Christmas: A Girl With an Apple
This is a story of Herman Rosenblat of Miami Beach, Florida and is being made into a movie called “The Fence.” It begs the question this Christmas Day, “Who is out there in your life ‘imprisoned’ in some way that needs your presence if only with ‘an apple’?” A blessed Christmas to you and your loved ones.
Fondly,
Father Nicholas
August 1942. Piotrkow, Poland: The sky was gloomy that morning as we waited anxiously. All the men, women and children of Piotrkow’s Jewish ghetto had been herded into a square. Word had gotten around that we were being moved. My father had only recently died from typhus, which had run rampant through the crowded ghetto. My greatest fear was that our family would be separated. “Whatever you do,” Isidore, my eldest brother, whispered to me, “don’t tell them your age. Say you’re sixteen.” “I was tall for a boy of 11, so I could pull it off. That way I might be deemed valuable as a worker. An SS man approached me, boots clicking against the cobblestones. He looked me up and down, and then asked my age. “Sixteen,” I said. He directed me to the left, where my three brothers and other healthy young men already stood. My mother was motioned to the right with the other women, children, sick and elderly people. I whispered to Isidore, “Why?” He didn’t answer. I ran to Mama’s side and said I wanted to stay with her. “No,” she said sternly. “Get away. Don’t be a nuisance. Go with your brothers.” She had never spoken so harshly before. But I understood; she was protecting me. She loved me so much that, just this once, she pretended not to. It was the last I ever saw of her.
My brothers and I were transported in a cattle car to Germany. We arrived at the Buchenwald Concentration Camp one night weeks later and were led into a crowded barrack. The next day we were issued uniforms and identification numbers. “Don’t call me Herman anymore.” I said to my brothers. “Call me 94983.” I was put to work in the camp’s crematorium, loading the dead into a hand-cranked elevator. I, too, felt dead. Hardened, I had become a number. Soon, my brothers and I were sent to Schlieben, one of Buchenwald's sub-camps near Berlin.
One morning I thought I heard my mother’s voice. “Son,” she said softly but clearly, “I am going to send you an angel.” Then I woke up. Just a dream. A beautiful dream. But in this place there could be no angels. There was only work. And hunger. And fear. A couple of days later, I was walking around the camp, around the barracks, near the barbed-wire fence where the guards could not easily see. I was alone. On the other side of the fence, I spotted someone: a little girl with light, almost luminous curls. She was half-hidden behind a birch tree. I glanced around to make sure no one saw me. I called to her softly in German. “Do you have something to eat?” She didn’t understand. I inched closer to the fence and repeated the question in Polish. She stepped forward. I was thin and gaunt, with rags wrapped around my feet, but the girl looked unafraid. In her eyes, I saw life. She pulled an apple from her woolen jacket and threw it over the fence. I grabbed the fruit and, as I started to run away, I heard her say faintly, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I returned to the same spot by the fence at the same time every day. She was always there with something for me to eat – a hunk of bread or, better yet, an apple. We didn’t dare speak or linger. To be caught would mean death for us both. I didn’t know anything about her, just a kind farm girl, except that she understood Polish. What was her name? Why was she risking her life for me? Hope was in such short supply, and this girl on the other side of the fence gave me some, as nourishing in its way as the bread and apples.
Nearly seven months later, my brothers and I were crammed into a coal car and shipped to Theresienstadt Camp in Czechoslovakia. “Don’t return,” I told the girl that day. “We’re leaving.” I turned toward the barracks and didn’t look back, didn’t even say good-bye to the little girl whose name I’d never learned, the girl with the apples. We were in Theresienstadt for three months. The war was winding down and Allied forces were closing in, yet my fate seemed sealed. On May 10, 1945, I was scheduled to die in the gas chamber at 10:00am. In the quiet of dawn, I tried to prepare myself. So many times death seemed ready to claim me, but somehow I’d survived. Now, it was over. I thought of my parents. At least, I thought, we will be reunited.
But at 8:00am there was a commotion. I heard shouts, and saw people running every which way through camp. I caught up with my brothers. Russian troops had liberated the camp! The gates swung open. Everyone was running, so I did too. Amazingly, all of my brothers had survived; I’m not sure how. But I knew that the girl with the apples had been the key to my survival. In a place where evil seemed triumphant, one person’s goodness had saved my life, had given me hope in a place where there was none. My mother had promised to send me an angel, and the angel had come.
Eventually I made my way to England where I was sponsored by a Jewish charity, put up in a hostel with other boys who had survived the Holocaust and trained in electronics. Then I came to America, where my brother Sam had already moved. I served in the U.S. Army during the Korean War, and returned to New York City after two years. By August 1957 I’d opened my own electronics repair shop. I was starting to settle in. One day, my friend Sid, who I knew from England, called me. “I’ve got a date. She’s got a Polish friend. Let’s double date.” A blind date? Nah, that wasn’t for me. But Sid kept pestering me, and a few days later we headed up to the Bronx to pick up his date and her friend Roma. I had to admit, for a blind date this wasn’t so bad. Roma was a nurse at a Bronx hospital. She was kind and smart. Beautiful, too, with swirling brown curls and green, almond-shaped eyes that sparkled with life. The four of us drove out to Coney Island. Roma was easy to talk to, easy to be with. Turned out she was wary of blind dates too! We were both just doing our friends a favor. We took a stroll on the boardwalk, enjoying the salty Atlantic breeze, and then had dinner by the shore. I couldn’t remember having a better time. We piled back into Sid’s car, Roma and I sharing the backseat. As European Jews who had survived the War, we were aware that much had been left unsaid between us. She broached the subject, “Where were you,” she asked softly, “during the war?” “The camps,” I said, the terrible memories still vivid, the irreparable loss. I had tried to forget. But you can never forget.
She nodded. “My family was hiding on a farm in Germany, not far from Berlin,” she told me. “My father knew a priest, and he got us Aryan papers.” I imagined how she must have suffered too, fear, a constant companion. And yet, here we were both survivors, in a new world. “There was a camp next to the farm.” Roma continued. “I saw a boy there and I would throw him apples every day.” What an amazing coincidence that she had helped some other boy. “What did he look like?” I asked. “He was tall, skinny, and hungry. I must have seen him every day for six months.” My heart was racing. I couldn’t believe it. This couldn’t be. Did he tell you one day not to come back because he was leaving Schlieben?'
Roma looked at me in amazement. “Yes!” “That was me!” I was ready to burst with joy and awe, flooded with emotions. I couldn’t believe it! My angel! “I’m not letting you go.” I said to Roma. And in the back of the car on that blind date, I proposed to her. I didn’t want to wait. “You’re crazy!” she said. But she invited me to meet her parents for Shabbat dinner the following week. There was so much I looked forward to learning about Roma, but the most important things I always knew: her steadfastness, her goodness. For many months, in the worst of circumstances, she had come to the fence and given me hope. Now that I’d found her again, I could never let her go. That day, she said yes. And I kept my word. After nearly 50 years of marriage, two children and three grandchildren, I have never let her go.
Weekly HOMILY for December 25, 2009: The Meaning of the Manger
Christmas, Cycle C
Our Lady of Grace
December 25, 2009
The Meaning of the Manger
By (Rev. Msgr.) Nicholas P. Amato
The Manger: Art and History
I am holding here a little ensemble of the Nativity. Not a great work of art exactly, but a contemporary artist’s depiction of Mary and Joseph at the birth of Jesus.
Through the centuries, great artists and lesser artists as well, have depicted that night in Bethlehem when Jesus was born of the Virgin Mary in a manger.
Artists have attempted to portray the birth of Christ as a majestic, idyllic, peaceful moment, as in this ensemble Mary and Joseph are gracefully watching the newborn Jesus.
The donkey and sheep are quietly and reverently surrounding the manger. In any century the particular artist was depicting the event hundreds or thousands of years after it had happened, and with his understanding of the Good News of peace and joy that this birth brought.
The actual historical reality of Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem, however, was probably a good bit different from what is depicted here or in any painting by the Masters.
It was a cold winter’s night and Mary and Joseph were probably very uncomfortable.
Mary entered labor and Jesus was born in a smelly stable in a manger out of which donkeys and sheep ate. The shepherds were rather rough fellows and the sheep most likely did not have clean white wool.
The Manger: Reality
Regardless of the historical circumstances of Jesus’ birth, we can say that artists in general have captured one element of the truth surrounding Jesus’ birth.
Painters and sculptors convey the truth that the manger in Bethlehem is a decisive event in human history. Saint Paul, in our second reading, says it in six words: “The grace of God has appeared.”
In the birth of Jesus God’s grace becomes tangible, relational. The way to look at it is that the birth of Jesus becomes a defining moment in human history.
And moving out from the stable to the environs, few of us know anything about the most powerful man in the world at that time, Caesar Augustus. Interestingly, it is a simple baby, born of poor parents, who was eventually crucified, becomes more famous than the mighty Caesar Augustus, indeed more well known that any persons who has ever lived.
In fact, this child’s birth has restructured our vision of human life. Christmas turns the presumptions, preconceptions, and prejudices of life upside down.
The Manger: Meaning for Us
This turning upside down of presumptions, preconceptions and prejudices means several things for each of us.
First, our value and worth come from the inside, from within us. God becoming one of us as an infant tells us that human value and worth are not connected with power, prestige or wealth.
To the contrary, our value and worth come from God who becomes one of us by entering our world in Jesus. Again, Saint Paul says it: “The Word of God is near you, in your heart and on your lips.”
So, know well your own value and innate goodness. Look not to this world to give you the grace and beauty you already possess within yourself through the birth of Jesus, the Word of God made flesh and living among us.
Second, just as we ourselves take on a different perspective because of Christmas Day, the world we live in also takes on a different perspective. This world is beautiful and essentially good because God has created it.
But, we must realize that some of the values and priorities of this world are out of order – like consumerism, or excessive individualism, or disregard for human life. So, Saint Paul reminds us that we are to “reject godless ways and worldly desires.”
We are to work hard in this world, play well, enjoy it appropriately – but we are not to live for this world. We are to live for the world that will never pass.
And last, our perspective of tomorrow and the coming year can never be the same because of Bethlehem. The birth of the God-child is a wake-up call.
We are to take God seriously. We are to see God in our work and bring God to our work, to our play, to our relationships, to every aspect of our life.
We are to see ourselves as always growing, becoming more and more like the humble infant of Bethlehem.
And we are to bring his power to the powerless, his love to the unloved, his fullness to the needy, and his peace to the oppressed, and we are to do this in ways that respond to the real needs of our day.
Conclusion
We know that this child born in Bethlehem was eventually killed by the powers of this world.
But the world can never destroy the Fire, the Message, or the Vision of this Prince of Peace. He has once and for all time turned human life upside down.
This is why we sing so strongly this night: “O Holy Night.” It is why we humbly say: “O Come Let Us Adore Him, Christ the Lord.”
Our Lady of Grace
December 25, 2009
The Meaning of the Manger
By (Rev. Msgr.) Nicholas P. Amato
The Manger: Art and History
I am holding here a little ensemble of the Nativity. Not a great work of art exactly, but a contemporary artist’s depiction of Mary and Joseph at the birth of Jesus.
Through the centuries, great artists and lesser artists as well, have depicted that night in Bethlehem when Jesus was born of the Virgin Mary in a manger.
Artists have attempted to portray the birth of Christ as a majestic, idyllic, peaceful moment, as in this ensemble Mary and Joseph are gracefully watching the newborn Jesus.
The donkey and sheep are quietly and reverently surrounding the manger. In any century the particular artist was depicting the event hundreds or thousands of years after it had happened, and with his understanding of the Good News of peace and joy that this birth brought.
The actual historical reality of Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem, however, was probably a good bit different from what is depicted here or in any painting by the Masters.
It was a cold winter’s night and Mary and Joseph were probably very uncomfortable.
Mary entered labor and Jesus was born in a smelly stable in a manger out of which donkeys and sheep ate. The shepherds were rather rough fellows and the sheep most likely did not have clean white wool.
The Manger: Reality
Regardless of the historical circumstances of Jesus’ birth, we can say that artists in general have captured one element of the truth surrounding Jesus’ birth.
Painters and sculptors convey the truth that the manger in Bethlehem is a decisive event in human history. Saint Paul, in our second reading, says it in six words: “The grace of God has appeared.”
In the birth of Jesus God’s grace becomes tangible, relational. The way to look at it is that the birth of Jesus becomes a defining moment in human history.
And moving out from the stable to the environs, few of us know anything about the most powerful man in the world at that time, Caesar Augustus. Interestingly, it is a simple baby, born of poor parents, who was eventually crucified, becomes more famous than the mighty Caesar Augustus, indeed more well known that any persons who has ever lived.
In fact, this child’s birth has restructured our vision of human life. Christmas turns the presumptions, preconceptions, and prejudices of life upside down.
The Manger: Meaning for Us
This turning upside down of presumptions, preconceptions and prejudices means several things for each of us.
First, our value and worth come from the inside, from within us. God becoming one of us as an infant tells us that human value and worth are not connected with power, prestige or wealth.
To the contrary, our value and worth come from God who becomes one of us by entering our world in Jesus. Again, Saint Paul says it: “The Word of God is near you, in your heart and on your lips.”
So, know well your own value and innate goodness. Look not to this world to give you the grace and beauty you already possess within yourself through the birth of Jesus, the Word of God made flesh and living among us.
Second, just as we ourselves take on a different perspective because of Christmas Day, the world we live in also takes on a different perspective. This world is beautiful and essentially good because God has created it.
But, we must realize that some of the values and priorities of this world are out of order – like consumerism, or excessive individualism, or disregard for human life. So, Saint Paul reminds us that we are to “reject godless ways and worldly desires.”
We are to work hard in this world, play well, enjoy it appropriately – but we are not to live for this world. We are to live for the world that will never pass.
And last, our perspective of tomorrow and the coming year can never be the same because of Bethlehem. The birth of the God-child is a wake-up call.
We are to take God seriously. We are to see God in our work and bring God to our work, to our play, to our relationships, to every aspect of our life.
We are to see ourselves as always growing, becoming more and more like the humble infant of Bethlehem.
And we are to bring his power to the powerless, his love to the unloved, his fullness to the needy, and his peace to the oppressed, and we are to do this in ways that respond to the real needs of our day.
Conclusion
We know that this child born in Bethlehem was eventually killed by the powers of this world.
But the world can never destroy the Fire, the Message, or the Vision of this Prince of Peace. He has once and for all time turned human life upside down.
This is why we sing so strongly this night: “O Holy Night.” It is why we humbly say: “O Come Let Us Adore Him, Christ the Lord.”
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Weekly THIS AND THAT for December 20, 2009: Catholics Against the Tide
This and That:
Preparing for Christmas: Catholics Against the Tide
As we prepare next week for the celebration of Christmas I am reminded that it hasn’t always been easy to be a Catholic, nor is it in some parts of the world today. There are outcries from atheists, agnostics and other groups these days to do away with symbols of Christmas. We’re to drop the greeting of “Merry Christmas” and use “Seasons Greetings.” Christmas trees are now “holiday trees” and please, no singing of Christmas Carols, though Rudolph and Frosty are just fine. And what ever happened to “Christmas Vacation”; “Winter Break” doesn’t seem to make it. It looks like “In God we Trust” has come off of some of our coinage, and the list goes on and on. Catholics and other Christians are going to have to rely on their own initiative to keep Christ in Christmas; the culture certainly isn’t going to do it. The following is a story of how our fellow-Catholics supposedly did it for 271 long grueling years in England and left us an important legacy. I say “supposedly” because its authenticity has been questioned. Nevertheless it’s a good story and if they did it so can we!
Fondly,
Father Nicholas
It is a fact of history that from 1558 until 1829, Roman Catholics in England were not permitted to practice their faith openly. The story goes that someone during that era wrote this carol as a catechism song for young Catholics. It can have two levels of meaning: the surface meaning plus a hidden meaning known only to members of our Church. Each element in the carol has a code word for a religious reality that the children could remember.
➢ The partridge in a pear tree was Jesus Christ
➢ Two turtle doves were the Old and New Testaments
➢ Three French hens stood for faith, hope and love
➢ The four calling birds were the four gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke & John
➢ The five golden rings recalled the Torah or the Mosaic Law, the first five books of the Old Testament
➢ The six geese a-laying stood for the six days of creation.
➢ Seven swans a-swimming represented the sevenfold gifts of the Holy Spirit – Wisdom, Understanding, Right Judgment, Fortitude, Knowledge, Reverence, Awe of God
➢ The eight maids a-milking were the eight beatitudes
➢ Nine ladies dancing were the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit – Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self Control
➢ The ten lords a-leaping were the ten commandments
➢ The eleven pipers piping stood for the eleven faithful disciples
➢ The twelve drummers drumming symbolized the twelve points of belief in the Apostles’ Creed
One thing is certain this Christmas, there is no doubt that the culture has gone secular. And while there is no persecution of Catholics in America today, thank God there is the freedom to teach our children the meaning of Christmas openly. Use that gift well this coming week. Don’t count on others, the school, the community, the sports teams, advertising, TV, or the marketplace. You might begin by telling them the story of “The 12 Days of Christmas.”
Preparing for Christmas: Catholics Against the Tide
As we prepare next week for the celebration of Christmas I am reminded that it hasn’t always been easy to be a Catholic, nor is it in some parts of the world today. There are outcries from atheists, agnostics and other groups these days to do away with symbols of Christmas. We’re to drop the greeting of “Merry Christmas” and use “Seasons Greetings.” Christmas trees are now “holiday trees” and please, no singing of Christmas Carols, though Rudolph and Frosty are just fine. And what ever happened to “Christmas Vacation”; “Winter Break” doesn’t seem to make it. It looks like “In God we Trust” has come off of some of our coinage, and the list goes on and on. Catholics and other Christians are going to have to rely on their own initiative to keep Christ in Christmas; the culture certainly isn’t going to do it. The following is a story of how our fellow-Catholics supposedly did it for 271 long grueling years in England and left us an important legacy. I say “supposedly” because its authenticity has been questioned. Nevertheless it’s a good story and if they did it so can we!
Fondly,
Father Nicholas
It is a fact of history that from 1558 until 1829, Roman Catholics in England were not permitted to practice their faith openly. The story goes that someone during that era wrote this carol as a catechism song for young Catholics. It can have two levels of meaning: the surface meaning plus a hidden meaning known only to members of our Church. Each element in the carol has a code word for a religious reality that the children could remember.
➢ The partridge in a pear tree was Jesus Christ
➢ Two turtle doves were the Old and New Testaments
➢ Three French hens stood for faith, hope and love
➢ The four calling birds were the four gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke & John
➢ The five golden rings recalled the Torah or the Mosaic Law, the first five books of the Old Testament
➢ The six geese a-laying stood for the six days of creation.
➢ Seven swans a-swimming represented the sevenfold gifts of the Holy Spirit – Wisdom, Understanding, Right Judgment, Fortitude, Knowledge, Reverence, Awe of God
➢ The eight maids a-milking were the eight beatitudes
➢ Nine ladies dancing were the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit – Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self Control
➢ The ten lords a-leaping were the ten commandments
➢ The eleven pipers piping stood for the eleven faithful disciples
➢ The twelve drummers drumming symbolized the twelve points of belief in the Apostles’ Creed
One thing is certain this Christmas, there is no doubt that the culture has gone secular. And while there is no persecution of Catholics in America today, thank God there is the freedom to teach our children the meaning of Christmas openly. Use that gift well this coming week. Don’t count on others, the school, the community, the sports teams, advertising, TV, or the marketplace. You might begin by telling them the story of “The 12 Days of Christmas.”
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