Walking in the footsteps of the saints and martyrs of Rome

 

With the help of our seminarians and priests studying in Rome, we will be able to participate in one of the most ancient Lenten practices of the Roman Church. Dating back to the late second or early third century, the Bishop of Rome would celebrate Mass in parishes around the city. By the fifth century, there was a fixed calendar in place for the dates of those liturgies.

Today, it has become the practice of the North American College to “host” the English speaking stational churches liturgies. Each day Mass is also celebrated in German and Italian and for many years the Pope has celebrated the Ash Wednesday liturgy at the first of the stational churches. We begin our pilgrimage with a reflection by Patrick Lewis and photos by Fr. Justin Huber.

Santa Sabina

Today the Church begins Lent, the season of prayer, penance, and almsgiving that prepares Catholics for the coming of Easter. For seminarians and priests at the Pontifical North American College in Rome, Ash Wednesday begins the pilgrimages to the station churches in Rome.

Seminarians and priests gathered early in the morning at the Pontifical North American College to make their trek out to Santa Sabina. The sacristans, masters of ceremonies, choir, lectors, and acolytes arrived at the quiet church early to ensure that everything was set up and the Mass was prepared to be celebrated with due reverence. I joined a small group of seminarians and a priest and headed out toward Santa Sabina around 5:45AM. Walking along the Tiber in the cold, brisk darkness of the morning, we prayed the rosary and quietly made our way to the church. As I headed up the cobbled-stoned street that goes up the Aventine Hill, the sun began to rise.

The entire community from the Pontifical North American College and Casa Santa Maria gathered for Mass at Santa Sabina, the first of the station churches. Many other English speakers joined the College for the Mass. Students who are studying abroad in Rome and other people from around the city joined us for Mass. The 6:45AM Mass was somber, as the community entered into this holy penitential season.

Santa Sabina has been a place of worship since early in the second century. St. Sabina, a Roman matron from the second century, lived at or near the sight of this church. According to tradition, Sabina was a widow who was converted to the faith by her slave, Seraphia. The current church was built in the fifth century. The church was remodeled many times. The priests and servers sit in a choir section walled off with a marble rail. Pillars line the massive structure. Tombs from throughout the history of the Church line the walls and floors. Saints and martyrs since the time of the early Church have prayed at this holy sanctuary.

Santa Sabina is a particularly powerful church in which to begin the Lenten season not only because it is the traditional Ash Wednesday church, but because of the treasures that are found there. For example, one of the doors to the entrance has a panel with a carved wooden image that is one of the oldest crucifixion scenes in existence. Also, a small casket underneath the high altar contains the relics of various martyrs, including Santa Sabina herself. The image of Christ crucified and the presence of the martyrs are a fitting reminder that we should offer ourselves completely to God, inviting him into our lives and withholding nothing from him this Lent.

For “New Men” who are experiencing their first Lent in Rome, the Mass at Santa Sabina was a powerful introduction to the richness of the Lenten tradition in Rome. For those of us who have studied in Rome for a few years, Ash Wednesday and the church of Santa Sabina will be forever linked in our memories. After the Mass, we left Santa Sabina with ash on our foreheads, to go out and recommit ourselves to the Lord this Lenten season.

Don’t Look at Me

Public relations are very important in our culture, aren’t they? Great value is placed upon how we’re seen and perceived by others, and we’re very concerned about doing things that will get us noticed, appreciated, and admired. This is true even for matters of faith and religion.

That’s why Jesus’ words in the gospel today can be so challenging. He told us that we should be on our guard against performing religious acts for others to see. Our left hand must not know what our right hand is doing; we’re to pray in private behind closed doors; and our appearance shouldn’t reveal that we’re fasting.

Jesus knows that we often bring mixed motives to our religious undertakings. Some of our motivations- the ones inspired by God- are noble and good. Things like wanting to serve others, meet their needs, alleviate their suffering, grow closer to God, and do penance for our sins.

But sometimes we have other motives that aren’t as laudable. We may do religious things because we hope others will see us as holy or be grateful to us for the kind things we’ve done.

When we act in this way, we’re seeking to glorify ourselves- and there’s the catch. Because as Christians, all we do, in one way or another, should be done for the glory of God. As we journey through the 40 days of Lent, let’s always examine our motives, and ask the Lord to purify them, so that what we do is not driven by concern for public relations, but by a spirit of private praise.

Image courtesy of http://sharingmachine.com

Do Good, Instead of Feeling Bad

During a big religious festival, a seventeenth century Portuguese shepherd and soldier, heard a homily which convinced him of his need to repent. For months afterwards he wandered the streets, beating his breasts and screaming for mercy, until he was thrown into an insane asylum.

Blessed John of Avila, who preached the homily, visited St. John of God and insisted that instead of punishing himself for his past, it was better to try and build a better future. The repentant man did exactly that, through loving service to the sick and poor as a friar. He know him today as St. John of God.

As we celebrate his memorial today, St. John of God’s story is good to reflect upon as we move toward Lent, a season of renewal and penance. Penance shouldn’t be about beating up ourselves for past sins. Instead, it should be about building up ourselves into saints. In short: Do good, instead of feeling bad.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/030811.shtml

Photo credit: Sarah Korf via Creative Commons

Lessons Learned at a Chocolate Factory

This weekend, I had the pleasure of celebrating my Uncle Walter’s 55th Birthday.  For many people, birthdays are a big deal.  This is especially true for my uncle!  For well over a decade, he has battled polycystic kidney disease and through the help of dialysis, his kidneys remain minimally functioning at low 4%.  It’s also increasingly more apparent that the disease is taking a toll on his frail body.  The other part of his story – he will never be considered for a kidney transplant because he is mentally disabled.  So this weekend, we decided to celebrate his birthday in style, with a visit to Hershey, PA and a tour of the chocolate factory.

Society often tells us that persons with disabilities are burdensome or are simply not worth it.  Many argue that persons with disabilities do not have much to offer society – and somehow believe that our worth as a person is somehow linked to what we can contribute or give back.  Unfortunately, society more often than not, fails to recognize the inherent dignity of the sick and disabled.  And perhaps even more alarming, society fails to recognize all the ways persons with disabilities enrich and bless our lives.  As a result, we see the growing trend of prenatal diagnosis and selective abortions of those babies likely to be born with disabilities.  A common explanation – the disruption to families caused by the birth of a child with a disability.  Yes, it’s true.  Living with persons with disabilities is often challenging, and honestly sometimes even frustrating.  But without a doubt, I would never ever trade those challenges for the many lessons I’ve learned and blessings I’ve received.

My uncle has taught me that all life is sacred, that God has willed each of us into being, and we all have a place in His family.  He’s taught me how to be patient. He’s taught me how to trust with an innocent child-like faith…although I’m still trying to learn that lesson. And this weekend, walking through the chocolate factory, his presence reminded me about the freedom found in the simplicity of things.  As we slowly walked through the tour, many other families would pass us by, displaying in their faces a somewhat hurried rush.   Looking ahead to what was next.  Nope, not my uncle.  He slowed us down – and what a gift that was!  It gave my family the opportunity to soak everything in and enjoy the time to the fullest!  It gave us an opportunity to cherish even the littlest of things. Or maybe even more simply put, he helped us open our eyes to the many gifts God had put before us.

On the drive back to DC, I found myself thanking God for yet another great lesson.  Sure my uncle may not be able to “give back” to society.  But without even knowing it, Walter teaches me some of life’s great lessons.

Time for a renovation?

Six months ago we had a flood at our home which caused extensive damage to our first floor. As the walls were being removed, we discovered mold, some that was caused by the flood and some that had been there for quite some time, growing and spreading. The discovery of mold led to the removal of ceilings and sub floors. Until recently, our first and second floors were exposed down to floor and ceiling beams!

As I begin to prepare for the season of Lent, I find that our home renovation is a nice working image for the spiritual potential of Lent. Like how a fresh coat of paint can completely change the feel of a room, adding some more time for personal prayer or joining in a service project might be enough to enrich your spiritual life.  On the other hand, the season of Lent is really about a much larger renovation project. Lent invites us with the tools of prayer, fasting and almsgiving to strip the old paint off, to pull up the floors and look for the sin that is like mold. What is the sin, that like mold is growing unseen within us but spreading out through our thoughts and actions. Through the disciplines of Lent we are called to strip away the walls that may be allowing that sin to spread.

This Lent the archdiocese has some tools to offer for the renovation project. If you are thinking about praying more with Scripture, consider buying the newly revised New American Bible which is the fruit of almost 20 years of new Scholarship on the books of the Old Testament. Again this year, on Wednesday evenings in the Archdiocese of Washington and Diocese of Arlington churches will be open for prayer and confession.

We can make our fasting a tool for feeding the hungry by participation in Operation Rice Bowl. I know that the presence of the rice bowl on my table is a reminder of the fast I have chosen and it makes it easy to put the money I save by giving up my daily Starbucks fix right in the bowl.

Our Environmental Concerns committee is offering a Lent Calendar that invites us to reflect on the stewardship dimension of our discipleshipfrom an environmental perspective through prayer and a “carbon fast.”  All of these are tools to aid us in deepening our relationship with the Lord and leaving go of bad habits that grow into sin and take on good habits that grow into virtues.

Being a Good Tenant

One long-suffering landlord tells of having to evict tenants who refused to pay their rent, in spite of repeated calls and personal visits. Before they left, however, the tenants trashed the house: The front door was shattered; the drains were clogged with paraffin; the electric system was intentionally shorted out; beer bottles were used to smash the windows; all the appliances were sold; the carpet was ruined with bleach; battery acid was poured on the floor tiles; and the walls were spray painted and hacked with a knife.

The parable Jesus told in today’s gospel includes a landlord horror story. These tenants, however, didn’t simply refuse to pay the rent. The beat and killed those whom the landlord sent to collect it- including the landlord’s son. These tenants weren’t just vandals and deadbeats. They were murderers!

Jesus told this parable as a challenge and a warning to certain religious leaders of his day: They were the tenants in the story; the landowner is God the Father; the son is Jesus himself; and the vineyard represents the people of God.

But in a sense, we can understand this parable as being a challenge to us too. Just as the religious leaders in question had been given stewardship of God’s people, we too have been given stewardship, or responsibility, for the things of God- people, property, talents, opportunities, and time. Indeed, all of creation is ultimately God’s, and nothing takes place in it unless he allows it to happen. As Christians, even our own lives are not our own. “A Christian is not his own master,” wrote St. Ignatius of Antioch, “since all his time belongs to God.” In all things, we are simply custodians.

You and I have been entrusted with great gifts, for which one day we must render an account. We have a generous and patient landlord; may we be faithful and responsible tenants.

Reading for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/030711.shtml

Photo Credit: Editor B via Creative Commons

Building our Lives upon Rock

Some two hundred years ago, a Cherokee Indian named Drowning Bear allowed a missionary to read to him several chapters of the Bible. After having listened for some time, Drowning Bear said to the missionary: “It seems to be a good book; strange that the white people are not better after having had it for so long.”

Drowning Bear’s implication was that if we actually lived in obedience to the Word of God, our lives would be dramatically better as a result. This was precisely our Lord’s point in today’s gospel. Jesus invites us not only to hear his Word; he wants us also to act on it. To put it another way, God’s Word was spoken not simply for our information. Instead, it’s meant for our application, that our lives might be blessed with transformation.

For this to happen, however, we first need to listen. We can’t act on God’s Word if we can’t hear it! Unfortunately, listening isn’t something we’re always good at doing. In an old joke, a crabby husband asks his wife, “Why do women talk so much?” To which his rightfully annoyed wife replied: “Because we have to say everything twice!” The joke’s point is that we don’t always listen very well to each other. Sometimes we also don’t listen very well to God- and there’s nothing too funny about that

It might be that we’re too distracted to listen to God. When the “Word of the Lord” is proclaimed for us, our expected response is “Thanks be to God.” If we were honest, however, we probably should say, “Huh? Could you say that again?” One contributing factor is “information overload.” Through every conceivable form of media – electronic and otherwise- we’re bombarded with more data than we’re able to handle. It can shatter our attention spans and make us very reluctant to add any additional voices to the mix- even if it’s God’s.

Another reason we don’t listen well to God’s Word is that it gets drowned out by “cultural static.” It’s easy to understand why this happens. The world literally shouts at us – “Look at me! Buy me! Sleep with me!”- and we can’t seem to hear anything else- especially God, who typically speaks in whispers. And the same world that shouts at us insists that we join the rat race. We wind up so exhausted that making time for God’s Word seems like a luxury, something to put off for a day when we’re less stressed. It’s not that we’ve pushed God’s Word away; it’s simply been squeezed out.

But sometimes we do push God’s Word away, because we don’t want to hear it. We’re afraid of what we might be told and what changes God will call us to make in our lives. Maybe it’s about money. Or forgiveness. Or our relationships. Or sex. Perhaps we’re too proud, too angry, or too addicted to listen. Whatever it may be, we know that with knowledge comes responsibility, so we try to take the “ignorance is bliss” approach. When we do this, it’s not society or our schedules that’s interfering with the Word of God. We have only ourselves to blame, because we’ve stuck our fingers in our ears.

We only plug our ears, however, when we think that God’s Word might have something valid to say to us. At times, we think just the opposite. We don’t make ourselves deaf to God’s Word; we simply dismiss it, because we’re convinced that it has nothing to say to us, or that it’s too confusing or old-fashioned to bother with. Should this be the case, we’re in good company. St. Augustine, a great figure from the Church’s first centuries, once felt exactly the same way. As a young man, he read the Bible in his quest for truth, but found himself disappointed. He didn’t encounter the lofty philosophy he preferred to read, but accounts of violent conflict and very imperfect people that left him confused.

All that changed when Augustine met St. Ambrose, whose preaching helped him understand the Bible for what it is: An inspired account of God’s unfolding plan throughout history, all leading to Jesus. Augustine came to appreciate that not only is Jesus the key to understanding the Bible, but that Jesus himself is heard through the Bible. The Bible is the Word of God- because through it we hear the voice of Jesus, who is the Word of God: the Word-made-flesh.

It is this voice that today’s Scriptures challenge us to listen to, and act upon, today. In our noisy world, we can be deaf to God’s Word. In our selfish world, it’s tempting to resist God’s Word. In our skeptical world, it’s fashionable to dismiss God’s Word. In our overscheduled world, it’s easy to neglect God’s Word. Yet we neglect God’s Word at our peril. Life can be hard, challenging, painful, confusing. Maybe that’s why Jesus spoke of powerful winds and rain in his parable, because they describe what we feel like we’re contending with at times. Jesus’ point was that if we build our life upon his Word, we’ll have the strength and resources to withstand the flood waters when they rise. And if we don’t, we won’t, and we risk being swept away by the currents.

To build our lives upon God’s Word is like building our house on rock, as Jesus said. Think of Manhattan, if you will: Perhaps the greatest concentration of brick, mortar, steel and timber anywhere in the world. And all of it rests upon a huge mass of rock. Anything else couldn’t bear the weight. That’s true of our lives, too. Sometimes we have a heavy load to bear; it can seem like we have the weight of the world upon our shoulders! We can bear the strain…but only if our life’s foundation is the rock of the Word of God.

Drowning Bear was right: God’s Word is good, and we have indeed had it a long time. But it’s up to us to listen, act, and allow ourselves to be changed.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/030611.shtml
Photo Credits, top to bottom: Pink Sherbet, Striatic, Striatic, Between a Rock, via Creative Commons

Asking in Faith

Two men walking approached a standing ladder. One passed right under it. His companion, however, gave it a wide birth. “You don’t believe that old superstition, do you?” asked the first man. “Not really,” the other answered, “but I don’t want to take any chances- just in case.”

Sometimes we approach prayer the way the second man approached the ladder. We don’t really think it’s going to make a difference, but we go ahead and do it – just in case.

That’s how Peter thought in today’s gospel, when he expressed amazement that a fig tree Jesus cursed had withered. Jesus used this moment to teach us that we shouldn’t be surprised or shocked when our prayers make a difference. Prayer isn’t like wishing upon a star or tossing a coin down a well. Instead, our prayers are offered to a living God who listens, cares, and who always answers in the way that’s best for us. Prayer changes things, and we should always have faith that it does.

We don’t want to be like the crowd who gathered during a drought to pray for rain. The priest sent them home, insisting it wouldn’t rain that day. “Why not?” they demanded. “Because none of you brought an umbrella.”

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/030411.shtml

Photo credit: familymwr at Creative Commons