Saint Stephen The First Martyr

Just after Christmas, the Catholic Church remembers its first martyr, and one of its first deacons, Saint Stephen. Roman Catholics celebrate his feast Dec. 26, while Eastern Catholics honor him one day later.

In the Acts of the Apostles, St. Luke praises St. Stephen as “a man full of faith and the Holy Spirit,” who “did great wonders and signs among the people” during the earliest days of the Church.

Luke's history of the period also includes the moving scene of Stephen's death – witnessed by St. Paul before his conversion – at the hands of those who refused to accept Jesus as the Jewish Messiah.

Stephen himself was a Jew who most likely came to believe in Jesus during the Lord's ministry on earth. He may have been among the 70 disciples whom Christ sent out as missionaries, who preached the coming of God's kingdom while traveling with almost no possessions.

This spirit of detachment from material things continued in the early Church, in which St. Luke says believers “had all things in common” and “would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need.”

But such radical charity ran up against the cultural conflict between Jews and Gentiles, when a group of Greek widows felt neglected in their needs as compared to those of a Jewish background.

Stephen's reputation for holiness led the Apostles to choose him, along with six other men, to assist them in an official and unique way as this dispute arose. Through the sacramental power given to them by Christ, the Apostles ordained the seven men as deacons, and set them to work helping the widows.

As a deacon, Stephen also preached about Christ as the fulfillment of the Old Testament law and prophets. Unable to refute his message, some members of local synagogues brought him before their religious authorities, charging him with seeking to destroy their traditions.

Stephen responded with a discourse recorded in the seventh chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. He described Israel's resistance to God's grace in the past, and accused the present religious authorities of “opposing the Holy Spirit” and rejecting the Messiah.

Before he was put to death, Stephen had a vision of Christ in glory. “Look,” he told the court, “I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God!”

The council, however, dragged the deacon away and stoned him to death.

“While they were stoning Stephen, he prayed, ‘Lord Jesus, receive my spirit,’” records St. Luke in Acts 7. “Then he knelt down and cried out in a loud voice, ‘Lord, do not hold this sin against them.’ When he had said this, he died.”

The first Christian martyrdom was overseen by a Pharisee named Saul – later Paul, and still later St. Paul – whose own experience of Christ would transform him into a believer, and later a martyr himself.

Credits : Catholic News Agency 

Saint Peter Canisius -- A Saint For Today

The Feast Of Saint Peter Canisius is celebrated on December 21. 

St. Peter Kanis, Canisius in the Latin form of his surname, was a very important figure in the Catholic 1500s. He was born on May 8, 1521, in Nijmegen, Holland. His father was burgomaster of the city. While he was a student at the University of Cologne, he often visited the Carthusian monks of St. Barbara — a propelling center of Catholic life — and other pious men who cultivated the spirituality of the so-called modern devotion. He entered the Society of Jesus on May 8, 1543, in Mainz (Rhineland-Palatinate), after having followed a course of spiritual exercises under the guidance of Blessed Peter Faber, Petrus Faber, one of the first companions of St. Ignatius of Loyola.

He was ordained a priest in June 1546 in Cologne and the very following year, he attended the Council of Trent as a theologian with the bishop of Augusta, Cardinal Otto Truchsess von Waldburg, where he collaborated with two confreres, Diego Laínez and Alfonso Salmerón.

In 1548, St. Ignatius sent him to complete his spiritual formation in Rome and then sent him to the College of Messina to exercise himself in humble domestic services. He obtained a doctorate in theology in Bologna, on Oct. 4 he was assigned by St. Ignatius to the apostolate in Germany. On Sept. 2 of that year, 1549, he visited Pope Paul III in Castel Gandolfo and then he went to St. Peter’s Basilica to pray. Here he implored the help of the great Holy Apostles Peter and Paul, to give permanent efficacy to the Apostolic Blessing for his important destiny, his new mission. He wrote in his diary some words of this prayer. He said: “There I felt that a great consolation and the presence of grace were granted to me through these intercessors [Peter and Paul].

They confirmed my mission in Germany, and they seemed to transmit to me, as apostle of Germany, the support of their benevolence. You know, Lord, in how many ways and how many times on that same day you entrusted Germany to me, which I would later care for, and for which I desire to live and die.”

We must keep in mind that we find ourselves in the time of the Lutheran Reformation, at the moment in which the Catholic faith in German-speaking countries, in face of the fascination of the Reformation, seemed to be fading away. The task entrusted to Canisius was almost impossible, as he was charged with revitalizing, with renewing the Catholic faith in Germanic countries. It was possible only in the strength of prayer. It was possible only from the center, that is, from a profound personal friendship with Jesus Christ; friendship with Christ in his Body, the Church, which is nourished by the Eucharist, his real presence.

Following the mission received from Ignatius and from Pope Paul III, Canisius left for Germany and went first to the duchy of Bavaria, which for several years was the place of his ministry. As dean, rector and vice chancellor of the University of Ingolstadt, he looked after the academic life of the institute and the religious and moral reform of the people. In Vienna, where for a brief time he was administrator of the diocese, he carried out his pastoral ministry in hospitals and prisons, both in the city and the countryside, and he prepared the publication of his catechism. In 1556 he founded the College of Prague and, until 1569, was the first superior of the Jesuit province of Upper Germany.
In this office, he established in Germanic countries a solid network of communities of his order, especially of colleges, which were starting points for the Catholic Reformation, for the renewal of the Catholic faith.

At that time he also took part in the colloquium of Worms with Protestant leaders, among whom was Philipp Melanchthon (1557); he participated in the two Augusta Diets (1559 and 1565); he accompanied Cardinal Stanislaw Hozjusz, legate of Pope Pius IV to Emperor Ferdinand (1560); he intervened in the final session of the Council of Trent where he spoke on the question of Communion under both species and on the Index of Prohibited Books (1562).

In 1580 he went to Fribourg in Switzerland, wholly dedicated to preaching and the composition of his writings. He died there on Dec. 21, 1597. Beatified by Blessed Pius IX in 1864, in 1897 he was proclaimed the second apostle of Germany by Pope Leo XIII, and canonized and proclaimed doctor of the Church by Pope Pius XI in 1925.

St. Peter Canisius spent a good part of his life in contact with the socially most important persons of his time and exercised a special influence with his writings. He was editor of the complete works of Cyril of Alexandria and of St. Leo the Great, of the Letters of St. Jerome and of the Prayers of St. Nicholas of Flue. He published devotional books in several languages, the biographies of some Swiss saints and many homiletic texts. However, his most widespread writings were the three catechisms composed between 1555 and 1558.

The first catechism was addressed to students able to understand elementary notions of theology; the second to boys and girls of the people for an initial religious instruction; the third to adolescents with a scholastic formation at the level of middle and high school. Catholic doctrine was explained with questions and answers, briefly, in biblical terms, with much clarity and free of criticisms. In his lifetime alone there were a good 200 editions of this catechism! And hundreds of editions succeeded one another until the 1900s. Thus in Germany, still in my father’s generation, people called the catechism simply the Canisius: He is really the catechist of the centuries; he formed people’s faith for centuries.

This is a characteristic of St. Peter Canisius: to be able to harmoniously combine fidelity to dogmatic principles with respect due to every person. St. Canisius differentiated a knowing, culpable apostasy from a non-culpable loss of faith, in the circumstances. And he declared, before Rome, that the greater part of Germans who went over to Protestantism were without fault. At a historical moment of strong confessional oppositions, he avoided — this is something extraordinary — the harshness and rhetoric of anger of the time in discussions among Christians, something rare as I said — and he looked only to the presentation of the spiritual roots and to the revitalization of the faith in the Church. His vast and penetrating knowledge of sacred Scripture and of the fathers of the Church served this cause: the same knowledge that supported his personal relationship with God and the austere spirituality that he derived from modern devotion and Rhenish mysticism.

Characteristic of St. Canisius’ spirituality was a profound personal friendship with Jesus. For example, on Sept. 4, 1549, he wrote in his diary, speaking with the Lord: “In the end, as if you opened to me the heart of the Most Sacred Body, which it seemed to me I saw before me, you commanded me to drink from that source, inviting me, so to speak, to attain the waters of my salvation from your founts, O my Savior.”

And then he saw that the Savior gave him a garment with three parts that were called peace, love and perseverance. And with this garment made up of peace, love and perseverance, Canisius carried out his work of renewal of Catholicism. His friendship with Jesus — which is the center of his personality — nourished by love of the Bible, by love of the Sacrament, by love of the Fathers, this friendship was clearly united to the awareness of being a continuer of the mission of the Apostles in the Church. And this reminds us that every genuine evangelizer is always a united instrument with Jesus and the Church and, because of this, fruitful.

St. Peter Canisius was formed in his friendship with Jesus in the spiritual environment of the Carthusian monastery of Cologne, in which he was in close contact with two Carthusian mystics: Johann Lansperger, Latinized into Lanspergius, and Nicholas van Hesche, Latinized into Eschius. Subsequently he deepened the experience of that friendship, familiaritas stupenda nimis, with the contemplation of the mysteries of Jesus’ life, which form a large part of St. Ignatius’ spiritual exercises. His intense devotion to the Lord’s Heart, which culminated in consecration to the apostolic ministry in the Vatican Basilica, has its foundation here.

Rooted in the Christocentric spirituality of St. Peter Canisius is a profound conviction: There is no soul solicitous of its own perfection that does not practice mental prayer every day, an ordinary means that permits the disciple of Jesus to live in intimacy with the divine Master. Because of this, in the writings destined to the spiritual education of the people, our saint insists on the importance of the liturgy with his comments on the Gospels, on feasts, on the rite of the holy Mass and on the sacraments but, at the same time, he is careful to show to the faithful the need and the beauty of personal daily prayer, which should support and permeate participation in the public worship of the Church.

This is an exhortation and a method which preserves their value intact, especially after they were proposed again authoritatively by the Second Vatican Council in the Constitution “Sacrosanctum Concilium”: Christian life does not grow if it is not nourished by participation in the liturgy, particularly in Sunday’s holy Mass, and by personal daily prayer, by personal contact with God. Amid the thousands of activities and the many distractions that surround us, it is necessary to find moments of recollection before the Lord every day to listen to him and to speak with him.

At the same time, the example that St. Peter Canisius has left us, not only in his works, but above all with his life is always timely and of permanent value. He teaches clearly that the apostolic ministry is effective and produces fruits of salvation in hearts only if the preacher is a personal witness of Jesus and is able to be an instrument at his disposal, united closely to him by faith in his Gospel and in his Church, by a morally coherent life and incessant prayer as love. And this is true for every Christian who wishes to live his adherence to Christ with commitment and fidelity.

Credits : Zenit News 

Saint John Cantius -- The Saint Of Christmas Eve

On the northwest side of Chicago, near Milwaukee Avenue and what locals often call the “Polish Triangle” for its strong Polish roots, stands a gorgeous baroque church, known for its traditional liturgies and sacred atmosphere.

Resting amidst the ornately decorated High Altar is a painting of an old man, adorned in scholarly black robes, handing a kneeling girl a jug. In the background, bystanders observe the man and girl, seemingly with awe and wonder, and behind them two princely church steeples overlook the entire scene. Those who have visited  Krakow will immediately identify those steeples as belonging to Saint Mary’s Basilica.

Why does this very Polish painting hang above the altar of a Chicago church? Even the name of the church—Saint John Cantius—doesn’t sound particularly Polish. When one learns that it was founded in 1893 by Polish immigrants, however, and that the name John Cantius translates to “Jan Kanty,” the connection becomes clear.

But who was Jan Kanty, why was he so revered, and what’s going on in the altar painting? In the spirit of All Saints’ Day, let’s learn a bit about this Polish Saint.

His Life and Works:

Born to a wealthy family in the small Polish town of Kęty, near Auschwitz, in 1390, Kanty was christened after Saint John the Baptist. Little is known of his childhood. Indeed, he first appears in the historical record as a student in Krakow’s famed Jagiellonian University in 1413, where he studied philosophy before entering the priesthood.

After ordination, he spent eight years as rector of a clerical school in Miechów. During this period in history, priests and monks dedicated much time to quiet study, and, most of all, copying manuscripts. In this age before the printing press, the only way to replicate anything, was to manually write it out. Kanty spent many hours of his life copying down Holy Scripture and other theological writings.

Today, 18,000 hand-written pages survive, and that’s only believed to be a small fraction of his life’s work.

In 1429, he got a job in the Philosophy Department at Jagiellonian University and worked on earning his doctorate. Soon after, he became director of the school’s Theology Department.

Kanty’s intellectualism was matched only by his piety and dedication to his parishioners and fellow priests.  He developed a reputation as a great listener and mentor, and as one who “lived the Gospel.” He rejected material desires, living in a small room and fasting often. In one story, he was hosting a dinner when a beggar entered the room. Kanty rose from his seat shouting  “Christ is coming!” and offered his seat to the guest. As a priest, among his holy passions was cultivating the Sacrament of the Eucharist and encouraging the faithful to adore and partake in it.

The Miracle of the Jug:

One of the most famous stories surrounding Kanty is the supposed “Miracle of the Jug,” depicted in the painting hanging above the altar in Chicago’s Saint John Cantius Church.

In June of 1464, an elderly Kanty was walking through the market square in Krakow when he observed a weeping girl with a broken jar. It was a servant girl who had been carrying a jug of milk for her stern mistress when she had dropped and broken it. She was crying for fear of punishment. Moved with compassion, Kanty took the broken jar from the girl’s trembling hands and prayed upon it. Miraculously, when he fitted the pieces together, they remained whole and the jug was fixed! He then told the girl to fill the jug with water from a nearby spring. When she did so, Kanty again took the jug and prayed upon it. When he returned it to the girl, the water inside had turned to milk.

Other miraculous tales surround Kanty. In one, as he was walking the streets of Krakow on a cold winter’s night, he saw a beggar freezing on the roadside. Without thinking, Kanty threw his robe over the shivering man. Later, when he arrived home, he found the same robe back in his room. Had the beggar been Christ in disguise ??

Kanty died on Christmas Eve in 1473 and was interred in Jagiellonian University’s Collegiate Church of Saint Anne. In 1767, he was canonized a Saint by Pope Clement XIII. Today, he remains a very popular Polish Saint, in the same league as Saint Maximilian Kolbe and Saint Pope John Paul II.

His Feast Day is celebrated on December 23. 

Three Female Saints Who Promoted Devotion To The Holy Eucharist, His Sacred Heart, and Finally To His Divine Mercy

Among the most beautiful of all Catholic practices are the Solemnities of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus and the celebration of Divine Mercy. They are part of the Church’s liturgical calendar because God graced three young women, in different eras, to be his instruments in the development and implementation of these special devotions. Juliana of Cornillon (1192-1258), Margaret Mary Alacoque (1647-90) and Faustina Kowalska (1905-38) were holy women, and though originally unknown to many, were not unknown to God.

Each of them claimed to have received visions and messages from Jesus. While the Church does not ask us to believe personal revelations, the results of their visions and impact on the Catholic faith are undeniable.

Through the divinely inspired revelations of these three young nuns, Holy Mother Church offers prayers, practices, and special celebrations that elevate us above worldly things, and calls us to the loving heart of Jesus, to his body and blood, to his Divine Mercy.

St. Juliana of Cornillon | Corpus Christi

By the early 13th century, the Church faithful were abstaining from receiving holy Communion. It wasn’t that they were not devoted to the Eucharist, but they believed they were unworthy to consume the body of Christ — a belief that was not discouraged by many of the clergy.

A kind of distancing between the clergy and laity began that included a physical separation in many churches; rails and screens were placed between the congregation and the altar. People didn’t receive Communion but wanted to worship the Eucharist by looking at the consecrated host during the elevation. Sometimes they would go from church to church arriving just when the host was being lifted up. Some priests were offered money to hold the consecrated host up for an extended time. The “gazing adoration” was a kind of substitute for consuming the Eucharist. This lack of receiving Communion led the Church to mandate that all Catholics had to receive holy Communion at least during the Easter season (Canons of the Fourth Lateran Council).

Beginning in 1208, Jesus would use a pious, holy and humble nun, St. Juliana of Cornillon, as his instrument to take advantage of the increasing visual adoration of the Blessed Sacrament and, at the same time, return the People of God to regularly receiving holy Communion. Juliana would be Christ’s source to establish the feast of Corpus Christi.

Pope Benedict would say of Juliana, “She is little known, but the Church is deeply indebted to her, not only because of the holiness of her life, but also because, with her great fervor, she contributed to the institution of one of the most important solemn liturgies of the year: Corpus Christi.”

St. Juliana of Cornillon was a 13th century mystic.

Born in 1192, near Liege, Belgium, Juliana was orphaned at age 5 and placed in the Augustinian monastery at Mount Cornillon, where she spent most of her entire life. Beginning when she was a teenager, and for several years, she experienced a near continuous vision of a bright moon with a dark line across it. Eventually she had a dream where the Lord explained to her that the moon represented the Church year with all its feasts and the line depicted the lack of such a special day that honored the Eucharist. Jesus asked Juliana to establish a feast day during which the faithful would adore the Blessed Sacrament, when they would seek pardon for the times they had distanced themselves from Jesus in the sacrament.

She was uncertain that she could accomplish the task that Jesus commanded and, on several occasions, asked that the cause be given to someone else. Juliana prayed: “Lord release me, and give the task you have assigned to me to great scholars shining with light of knowledge, who would know how to promote such a great affair. For how could I do it? I am not worthy, Lord, to tell the world about something so noble and exalted. I could not understand it, nor could fulfill it” (“The Feast of Corpus Christi,” Barbara R. Walters, Vincent Corrigan and Peter T. Ricketts). But Jesus had made his choice, and he would be with her, guide her and place others along the way to help.

Juliana waited nearly 20 years, when she had been selected as the superior of her convent, to make her visions known. She delivered the secret to her confessor, Canon John of Lausanne, who, in turn, explained the visions to others outside the convent. The reception was mixed, but one who believed Juliana and recognized the value in a feast day to honor the Eucharist was Robert de Thorete, bishop of Liege. He ordered such a feast within the Liege diocese to begin around 1246. Unfortunately, Bishop Thorete died before the feast was implemented, and it was not added to the diocesesan calendar. The idea more or less was shelved; in fact, some argued that Holy Thursday was already the feast of the Eucharist, as that day celebrated the institution of the Eucharist by Jesus. But Holy Thursday is part of the Triduum, a sad period focused on the passion of Christ. It did not celebrate Jesus in the Eucharist.

As God designed, at the time Juliana made known her visions, there was an archdeacon named Jacques Pantaleon in the Diocese of Liege who favored a feast day dedicated to Jesus. Jacques would become Pope Urban IV (r. 1261-64), and in 1264 he issued a decree supporting the feast day and, at the same time, rejecting the argument about Holy Thursday already recognizing the Eucharist. He issued a papal bull adding the feast to the universal Church calendar, but as was the case with Bishop Thorete, Urban died before the feast was instituted. It would be left to Popes Clement V (r. 1305-14) and John XXII (r. 1316-34) to institute the Corpus Christi feast in the universal Church. In most of the world Corpus Christi is celebrated on the Thursday after Trinity Sunday and is a holy day of obligation; in the United States the solemnity is moved to Sunday.

Over the centuries, and stemming from Juliana, we have many rituals and devotions during which we eagerly and publicly honor the Eucharist — for example, through processions such as those on the feast of Corpus Christi, and the exposition of the Blessed Sacrament (Eucharistic adoration) including Forty Hours of adoration. These rituals and special events draw us closer to Jesus. Of course, such activity is capped by receiving Jesus in holy Communion.

Corpus Christi procession and traditions

Eucharistic processions are held all around the world on the feast of Corpus Christi. Some traditions process the Blessed Sacrament from one house of worship to another. Others entail parishioners setting up altars in their front yards to display the monstrance. Still, few traditions are as vibrant as those seen in some countries, such as Poland and Spain, where colorful carpets guide the procession route. In Spycimierz, Poland, a small village with a population of less than 400 people, pilgrims and tourists flock every year to witness the flower carpets arranged for the feast of Corpus Christi. The path depicts Bible scenes, images of the Eucharist and the sacraments, and intricate designs all created from flower petals set upon beds of sand, leaves and grass. Following Mass on Corpus Christi, the Blessed Sacrament is led down this path, and many locals join in full traditional dress to celebrate the occasion. This tradition has continued for more than 200 years. Similarly, in Elche de la Sierra, near Albacete, Spain, residents cover the streets with alfombras de serrin (carpets of sawdust) during the early morning hours of Corpus Christi. Imitating the flower carpets from other parts of the world, a small group in 1964 started their own tradition of using multi-colored sawdust to create elaborate street murals. Over 50 years later, the entire district participates in a large festival, and though it has become a secular event, the Eucharistic procession is still a main part of the day.

St. Margaret Mary | Sacred Heart of Jesus

Every liturgical year on the third Friday following the great feast of Pentecost, we celebrate the solemnity of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. The heart has always represented the whole person, and the heart of Jesus is the symbol of his eternal love for us. The solemnity is our opportunity to acknowledge his love and offer repentance for the times when we have ignored his affection.
It was a young nun named Margaret Mary Alacoque of the Visitation order at Paray-le-Monial, France, who would become Jesus’ conduit to spread devotion to the Sacred Heart throughout the Roman Church.

This is an ancient devotion that began when the Roman soldier stuck his spear into the side of our crucified savior and God’s grace, in the form of water and blood, flowed from his side, from his heart. Saints, theologians, writers and individuals have long recognized the Sacred Heart as the source of endless blessings, mercy and love. But for centuries it was mostly a personal devotion.
In the 17th century,

Catholicism was under attack from the spread of Protestantism and the heretical beliefs of Jansenism. The Jansenists, who were Catholics, claimed that only a chosen few people would reach heaven and that God was to be feared. They degraded the humanity of Jesus, including his heart, and wanted the Church to return to rigorous penances of the past. Both Protestantism and Jansenism impacted the fervor the faithful had for many Church teachings, including devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Jesus would confront this falling away through Sister Margaret Mary.

Beginning in 1673 and over a period of more than 18 months, Sister Margaret Mary claimed to have received visions during which our Lord Jesus displayed his Sacred Heart as the symbol of his love for mankind and told Sister Margaret Mary that she was to be his instrument to spread a universal devotion to his divine heart.

In one vision, Jesus appeared with his “divine heart, enthroned, as it were, in flames, was surrounded by a crown of thorns, and the wound it had received was still open, while a cross more brilliant than the sun, surmounted all”

According to Margaret Mary, Jesus told her that despite loving mankind so much that he gave his life for them, he was being treated with irreverence, coldness and ingratitude. He wanted the world to recognize the love he continually poured out for them symbolized by his Sacred Heart and for mankind to make amends for their ingratitude.

He urged Sister Margaret Margret to begin a personal devotion to his divine heart by receiving holy Communion every first Friday and spending an hour in prayer the night before, both focused on seeking his pardon and making prayerful reparations for mankind’s desertion of his love.
In another vision, Jesus asked her to establish a Church feast day to honor his Sacred Heart, one to be held on the third Friday following Pentecost. On that day, those faithful to Jesus would attend Mass, receive holy Communion, profess their love and offer reparations for the way he had been insulted by mankind. These visions are the basis for the first Friday devotions and the solemnity of the Sacred Heart of Jesus we have today. The love and compassion of Jesus’ heart dispels the heresies of Jansenism.

When Margaret Mary first attempted to explain the visions, many around her were skeptical. It was St. Claude de la Colombiere, her spiritual adviser, who recognized the holiness, fervor and sincerity of Margaret Mary. Even when she was believed, as a cloistered nun there was little she could do to foster her visions outside of her order. Thus it was St. Colombiere, along with St. John Eudes, who would continue promoting a Sacred Heart feast day to the faithful and to the Holy See. Pope Pius XII (r. 1939-58), in his encyclical Haurietis Aquas, wrote: “The most distinguished place among those who have fostered this most excellent type of devotion [Sacred Heart] is held by St. Margaret Mary Alacoque who, under the spiritual direction of Blessed Claude de la Colombiere who assisted her work, was on fire with an unusual zeal to see to it that the real meaning of the devotion which had had such extensive developments to the great edification of the faithful should be established and be distinguished from other forms of Christian piety by the special qualities of love and reparation” (No. 95).

Universal approval eventually came from the Vatican in August 1856 during the reign of Pope Pius IX (r. 1846-78). In 1899, Pope Leo XIII (r. 1878-1903), encouraged by Catholics around the world, consecrated the human race to the Sacred Heart. In our time, the devotion is celebrated every first Friday Mass, and the solemnity is part of the Church liturgical calendar.

The devotion is acknowledged through numerous prayers and depicted in thousands of images, including the image of Our Lord holding his flaming compassionate and merciful heart. Many homes are consecrated to the Sacred Heart. During Eucharistic adoration we revere the Sacred Heart in our Benediction prayers: “May the heart of Jesus, in the most Blessed Sacrament, be praised, adored and loved with grateful affection, at every moment in all the tabernacles of the world, even until the end of time.”

Margaret Mary died in 1690 and was canonized in 1920. Some argue that, like in the 17th century, our fervor for the Sacred Heart is again waning today. Turning to the visions and words of Margaret Mary, once again we can rally to this symbol, this source of Christ’s love.

Promises of Jesus to Margaret Mary for anyone who practices devotion to the Sacred Heart

1. I will give them all the graces necessary in their state of life. 2. I will establish peace in their homes. 3. I will comfort them in all their afflictions. 4. I will be their secure refuge during life and above all in death. 5. I will bestow a large blessing upon all their undertakings. 6. Sinners shall find in My Heart the source and the infinite ocean of mercy. 7. Tepid souls shall become fervent. 8. Fervent souls shall quickly mount to great perfection. 9. I will bless every place where a picture of my heart shall be set up and honored. 10. I will give to priests the gifts of touching the most hardened hearts. 11. Those who shall promote this devotion shall have their names written in my Heart, never to be blotted out. 12. I promise you in the excessive mercy of my Heart that my all-powerful love will grant to all those who communicate on the first Friday in nine consecutive months the grace of final penitence; they shall not die in my disgrace without receiving their sacraments; my divine Heart shall be their refuge in this last moment. Source: “Modern Catholic Dictionary,” Father John A. Hardon

St. Faustina | Divine Mercy

Between 1931 and 1938, a young nun named Sister Maria Faustina claimed to have experienced a series of visions, messages and conversations in which our Lord Jesus asked her to establish a devotion to his Divine Mercy.

Helen Kowalska, Sr. Maria Faustina, from the Congregation of the Sisters of Our Lady of the Most Blessed Sacrament in Warsaw, was born near Lodz, Poland, in 1905. When she was 20 she entered the convent and lived there her entire life. She began receiving messages and visions of Jesus soon thereafter. Faustina documented all these episodes — over 1,800 entries — in her diary that today is a classic book called “Divine Mercy in My Soul.” She was a prophet, a mystic, graced with many supernatural gifts. Her deep love of the Eucharist and love of the Blessed Mother were likely among the reasons Jesus chose her to share his message of mercy.

The messages imparted to Faustina were received during an era of growing unrest throughout Europe: economic disaster, Hitler and the Nazis were taking over Germany, as were Mussolini and the fascists in Italy. The first concentration camps were built, and the German anti-Jewish Nuremberg laws were passed. Control of most European countries was increasingly in the hands of tyrants, which led to the horrors of World War II. All this came on the heels of World War I that had ended less than 25 years earlier. Jesus told Faustina that “mankind will not have peace until it turns with trust to my mercy” (Diary, No. 300).

The diary reflects that to attain the divine mercy of Jesus, mankind needs a trustful relationship with Our Savior. Jesus tells Faustina repeatedly that we can depend on his love, his mercy if only we turn to him, repent of our sins and trust in him: “Sooner would heaven and earth turn into nothingness than would my mercy not embrace a trusting soul” (Diary, No. 1777). He also repeatedly told her that he wanted her to establish a feast of mercy and hold that celebration on the first Sunday after Easter.

He said: “My daughter, tell the whole world about my inconceivable mercy. I desire that the feast of mercy be a refuge and shelter for all souls, and especially poor sinners. On that day the very depths of my tender mercy are open. I pour out a whole ocean of graces upon those souls who approach the fount of my mercy. The soul that will go to confession and receive holy Communion shall obtain complete forgiveness of sins and punishment. … My desire that it be solemnly celebrated on the first Sunday after Easter” (Diary, No. 699) The mercy of Christ that we receive is then shared with our neighbor; as he is merciful to us, we are to be merciful to them.

After St. Faustina died in 1938, the original diary was rewritten by members of Faustina’s order and, based on the contents of that version, both the diary and proposed devotion in 1959 were banned by the Vatican. It was 19 years later that a review of the original documents of Sister Faustina led to the lifting of the ban.

On April 30, 2000, Faustina would be the first person canonized in the new millennia. Pope St. John Paul II (r. 1978-2005) not only elevated Sister Faustina Kowalska to the altar of sainthood, but he said during his canonization homily that “from now on throughout the Church [the second Sunday of Easter] will be called Divine Mercy Sunday.” Certain religious groups are advocating for St. Faustina to be named a Doctor of the Church.

When we attend a Divine Mercy celebration on that special Sunday, we are touched by the beautiful prayers that Jesus gave to Faustina: “Eternal Father, I offer You the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Your dearly beloved Son, Our Lord Jesus Christ, in atonement for our sins and those of the whole world.” And then, “For the sake of his sorrowful passion have mercy on us and on the whole world. Holy God, Holy Mighty One, Holy Immortal One, have mercy on us and on the whole world” (Diary, No. 476).

In many Catholic churches, there is a picture known as the Image of Divine Mercy.  According to St. Faustina’s diary, this is how the picture came about: “In the evening, when I was in my cell, I saw the Lord Jesus clothed in a white garment. One hand [was] raised in the gesture of a blessing, the other was touching the garment at the breast. From beneath the garment, two large rays, one red, the other pale. In silence I kept my gaze fixed on the Lord; my soul was struck with awe, but also with great joy. After a while Jesus said to me, ‘Paint an image according to the pattern you see, with the signature: Jesus, I trust in You. I desire that this image be venerated, first in your chapel, and [then] throughout the word'” (Diary, No. 47). Credits : Our Sunday Visitor, August 1, 2019

Saint John Of The Cross -- An Awesome and Amazing Carmelite

These main events in the short life of St. John of the Cross do not leave us with the full picture of his character and personal spirituality. His early first-hand acquaintance with deprivation, the later misunderstandings and imprisonment, the final persecution that he suffered, all might more easily have brought forth a bitter cynic; instead, the result was a man purified and enlightened. Events outwardly sad but inwardly transforming bore fruits in charity toward others and deep compassion for the sufferer. Together with these came a rare, clear vision of the beauty of God's creation and an intimacy with the Blessed Trinity that John found somewhat describable only through comparisons to the life of glory.

But first, regarding the physical appearance of Friar John of the Cross, he was a small man, measuring four feet, eleven inches. Whenever St. Teresa referred to him she seemed almost obliged to use the diminutive. In describing his imprisonment, she writes: "For the whole nine months he was in a small prison where, little as he is, there was not enough room for him to move." He was also thin, but his lean, oval face and his broad forehead, receding into baldness, gave him a venerable appearance.

His nose was slightly aquiline, his eyes dark and large. Rounding off this figure of Friar John was his old, rough, brown habit and a white cloak so coarse it seemed made of goat hair.

Marked by the poverty he suffered as a child and even as a friar, he found it hard to ignore others in the distress of material need. With his penitents he did not limit himself to seeking their spiritual good, but he looked for ways to help them when they were in want. Sometimes he gave them alms from the meager funds of the monastery, or sometimes he begged alms for them from other devout people. Noticing once that a priest who came to him for confession was wearing a worn-out cassock, he asked some benefactors for money to buy the priest a new one. He grieved over the poverty of many of the nuns at the Incarnation who didn't have the material resources enjoyed by those from well-to-do families.

One day, entering the convent for his ministry, he saw a nun sweeping the floor barefooted, and doing so not out of penance but because she had no shoes. Immediately he trudged up to the city and asked some charitable persons for money, which he in turn gave to the nun so she could buy shoes for herself. Then there was the year 1584, a year of barrenness and hunger in Andalusia. As prior in Granada John did everything he could to help with either food or money all the needy who came to the monastery gate. Those of higher lineage he helped secretly because, even though in want, they were ashamed to beg openly.

Finding the poor wherever he journeyed, he also found the sick. He began to understand intimately the affliction of the latter during his hospital work as a youth in Medina. Taking pains to show the most delicate sympathy for the sick, he knew how to care for them, comfort them, and give them hope. He would not allow the question of money to interfere with his desire to give his sick friars the best possible care. He once asked a doctor if there were any remedy for a lay brother who was undergoing extraordinary suffering. The doctor answered that the only medicine he knew was very expensive and would do no more than relieve the suffering somewhat. Despite the penury of the community John sent for the medicine and administered it to the sick brother himself, and did so happily. On arriving at a monastery he always made it a point first to greet the sick after his visit to the Blessed Sacrament.

Quick to perceive sadness or depression in another and eager to comfort the downcast, he could appreciate humor. Surprisingly, witnesses have told of his gift for humor and the enjoyment he got from making others laugh. They looked forward to having him present.

As prior he accepted the responsibility of having to call others to account, but he was intent on not discouraging anyone. His opinion was that people "become pusillanimous in undertaking works of great virtue when they are treated harshly by superiors." Nor did he think he had the answers to all problems. His practice was to consult others in the community, a method of government that helped to create an atmosphere of serenity. Being a saint does not free one from the capacity for making mistakes, nor does being a superior, and John once remarked of himself at the end of his life: "When I recall the foolish mistakes I made as superior, I blush."

Human needs are not only material and psychological; there are distinctive spiritual needs as well. In his oral teaching John used to point out that the more you love God the more you desire that all people love and honor him and as the desire grows you work harder toward that end, both in prayer and in all other possible works. His preferred work was spiritual direction, whereby he could help to free individuals from their moral and spiritual illnesses.

In this endeavor he did not spare himself, so special was his awareness of our exalted destiny. From university professor to humble, unlettered shepherds' wives, people of all classes felt the allure of his confessional. The ease the humble lay sister, Catalina de la Cruz, experienced in his presence is evident in the kind of question she once asked him: "Why when I go to the garden do the frogs jump in the water?" Quickly seizing an opportunity to draw out a spiritual lesson, John replied that it was because they felt safe in the depth of the pool and "that is what you must do, flee from creatures and hide yourself in God." Sinners also found their way to him without fear. "The holier a confessor," he used to say, "the less fear one should have of him."

In his spiritual direction of others John focused on communion with God in faith, hope, and love, called by some the "theological life." This life is both active and passive and encompasses everything, from the first steps in Christian living to the highest reaches of the mystical journey. In an age that found severe austerities a fascinating and necessary part of spiritual pursuit, his ascetical teaching pointed to faith, hope, and love as the way to sanctity in the following of Christ.

But his deepest concern was for those who were suffering in their spiritual life. The needs of souls struggling with inner trials stirred him to write The Ascent of Mount Carmel and The Dark Night. If his intense portrayal of the afflictions of the dark night can prove frightening to some, his desire in so presenting them was to include everyone by describing these sufferings in their extreme form. He wanted everyone to find comfort in the thought that however severe it may be, purification is still the work of God's gentle hand, clearing away the debris of attachment and making room for the divine light. Pain for him was not a misfortune but a value when suffered with and for Christ.

Nothing about John's life indicates that he thought he should have a specialist's priorities in the use of his time. He participated in all the different tasks necessary to keep a community running. We find him in the choir, the confessional, the kitchen, weeding the garden, decorating the altars, making architectural plans, joining in construction work, visiting the sick and, of course, writing.

Hard physical labor, small and delicate though he was, seemed to attract him. Was it his way of protesting the thought of the Illuminists who held that the servants of God should not undertake manual labor? At both Granada and Segovia, when these monasteries were being built, he joined the workmen in quarrying stone for the construction.

At Beas, when free from counseling the nuns he would do chores for them, setting up partitions, laying bricks, and scrubbing floors.

He observed how creatures can enslave and darken and torment. But the deceptive delights of those who are attached to creatures cannot compare with the joy of people who are detached from them. Beholding in creation a trace of the divine beauty, power, and loving wisdom, John could not easily resist the enchantment of nature.

Because he missed the lyric country solitude of El Calvario after founding the student college in Baeza, he acquired some property in the country, making it possible for him and the young Carmelites to escape from the bustling city. He would take the friars out to the mountains, sometimes for the sake of relaxation, "to prevent their wanting to leave the monastery from spending too much time in it," as he once remarked; sometimes, so that each might pass the day alone there "in solitary prayer." At Segovia he had his favorite grotto, hollowed out by nature, high up on the back bluff overlooking a marvelous stretch of sky, river, and landscape. He grew to love this silent grotto and spent all the time he could spare there.

John's letters exhibit the warmth with which he usually communed with others. But his brother Francisco seems to have given him special happiness. He used to introduce Francisco by saying, "May I introduce you to my brother, who is the treasure I value most in the world." St. Teresa, also, it should go without saying, awakened in him particular admiration, so much so that he carried her portrait about with him.

Accompanying the outward, evangelical simplicity of his manner was a soul on fire, like Teresa's. Of his intimacy with God he once admitted in Granada: "God communicates the mystery of the Trinity to this sinner in such a way that if His Majesty did not strengthen my weakness by a special help, it would be impossible for me to live." Overwhelmed with awareness of God's goodness, he was frequently heard to exclaim, "Oh, what a good God we have!"

Requiring little sleep, he spent much of the night in prayer, sometimes kneeling at the altar steps before the Blessed Sacrament; at other times he knelt beneath the trees in the garden, and sometimes at the window of his cell, from which he could look out at the heavens and all the countryside. In the latter years of his brief life, his absorption in God could become so profound that he experienced difficulty in attending to ordinary affairs, secretly having to hit his knuckles against the wall so as not to lose the trend of conversation.

His experience of God was always rooted in the life of the Church, nourished by the sacraments and the liturgy. Witnesses of his life spoke of the devotion with which he celebrated Mass. A center of his contemplation, Mass often proved to be an occasion for special graces. During the celebration he could become so lost in God that he had no consciousness of his surroundings. His greatest suffering during the imprisonment in Toledo was being deprived of the Eucharist.

The Blessed Sacrament was "all his glory, all his happiness, and for him far surpassed all the things of the earth." The one privilege he accepted when major superior in Segovia was the cell closest to the Blessed Sacrament.

The liturgical feasts and seasons meant more than an external commemoration; they were the occasion of an interior transformation in the spirit of the mystery being celebrated. On the day before Christmas he used to organize with the friars a kind of paraliturgical procession to recall how Mary and Joseph went in search of lodging for the divine Infant.

At Christmas time above all he felt his heart pulsate with love for the Child Jesus. One Christmas, seeing a statue of the Infant lying on a cushion, he cried out, "Lord, if love is to slay me, the hour has now come." Another Christmas, taken with love, he took the statue of the Infant in his arms and began to dance with enraptured joy.

His countenance, in fact, corresponded with the Church's liturgy. Once during Holy Week he suffered so intensely from the Passion of Christ that he found it impossible to leave the monastery to hear the nuns' confessions. Among his favorite feasts, besides those of the Blessed Trinity and Corpus Christi, were the feasts of the Blessed Virgin. In his prison cell, on the Vigil of the Assumption, after nine months of severe privation, he was asked what he was thinking of. He replied, "I was thinking that tomorrow is the feast of our Lady and that it would give me great joy to say Mass."

The sight of an image of the Mother of God brought love and brightness to his soul. Once, on seeing an image of our Lady while he was preaching to the nuns in Caravaca, he could not conceal his love for her and exclaimed: "How happy I would be to live alone in a desert with that image."

The Bible, the book he cherished most of all, helped him to enter into intimacy with the three Persons of the Trinity. He loved to withdraw to hidden parts of the monastery with his Bible. While he was in Lisbon, the other friars urged him to come with them to visit a famed stigmatic of that city, but he refused; drawn by the ocean, he remained on the shore reading his Bible while the others went off to observe the curious phenomenon.

From his Bible and his nearness to God, John knew that loving confidence in Providence was the appropriate response to life's worries and anxieties. He observed that when God, like a loving mother, wants to carry us, we kick and cry and insist on walking by ourselves, and get nowhere. Some thought that since he was prior of a poor monastery he should show more concern about material needs. They would have liked him to worry. But his habit of seeing the hand of God in all things contributed, in fact, to an air of peace and calm.

This was his way, too, in persecution. He saw the hand of God there and urged others not to speak uncharitably of his persecutors, but to think "only that God ordains all." He wrote that trust in God should be so great that even if the whole world were to collapse one should not become disturbed. Enduring things with equanimity reaps many blessings, he said, and helps a person in the middle of adversity to make an appropriate judgment and find the right option.

This total trust in God gave him peace in his final illness. Being reminded of all he had suffered, he replied with these remarkable words: "Padre, this is not the time to be thinking of that; it is by the merits of the blood of our Lord Jesus Christ that I hope to be saved."

Our Lady Of Guadalupe -- The Woman Of Life

Elena Rubio, a teacher in Brooklyn, New York, was five years old when she first heard the story of Our Lady of Guadalupe.

“It was on a family trip to Mexico,” she recalled. “Back then, I couldn’t figure out whether the Virgin Mary and this lady were the same person. Then my mom told me that Our Lady of Guadalupe had appeared in Mexico, and I was totally intrigued. I was fascinated, because it seemed to be a real thing, something with proof left behind.”

For Rubio and millions of other Mexicans and Mexican-Americans, December 12th holds special significance. It marks the date in 1531 when the Virgin Mary appeared to an indigenous Mexican, in the last of several apparitions.

To the present day, Our Lady of Guadalupe remains a powerful symbol of Mexican identity and faith, and her image is associated with everything from motherhood to feminism to social justice.

Across the U.S., many of the faithful will be attending mass; in some communities like Des Plaines, Illlinois the mass is preceded by a pilgrimage to a venerated shrine for the beloved virgin.

Rubio is continuing the religious tradition, telling her own young children about Our Lady of Guadalupe. “It’s interesting how, in our culture, she is still so prevalent and recognizable. She is still revered, like the ultimate symbol of goodness.” Rubio revealed to NBC News that in her home, she has Our Lady of Guadalupe artwork, icons, and even a small nightlight bearing her image. “I guess she’s watching over us,” Rubio laughed.

According to lore, it was a winter’s day in 1531 when the Virgin Mary first appeared to Juan Diego, a peasant, as he was crossing a hillside near present-day Mexico City. She appeared as a dark-skinned woman who spoke Nahuatl, Juan Diego’s native language. This woman asked Juan Diego to build her a little house, a casita, on the hill. Twice Juan Diego reported this to his local bishop, who didn’t believe him. The second time, the bishop asked for proof of the apparitions.

Early on the morning of December 12th, the lady appeared again to Juan Diego and told him to gather some flowers at the top of the hill – a strange request because flowers were not in season in December. Juan Diego did as he was instructed, and found an array of Castilian roses. The lady helped him arrange them in his tilma (cloak), and he returned to the bishop with them as evidence. As Juan Diego presented the tilma to the bishop, the flowers tumbled out and the two men discovered a life-size image of the Virgin Mary on the inside of the cloak. This image is known as Our Lady of Guadalupe.

To Jeanette Rodriguez, author of Our Lady of Guadalupe: Faith and Empowerment Among Mexican-American Women, there are aspects of this story that make it unique. She finds it significant that the apparition chose to appear to a peasant.

“That makes sense, because God always chooses the people the world rejects,” she said. “The Lady of Guadalupe also offered a different brand of faith. She didn’t say, go to church or say the rosary. She said ‘If you love me, trust me and believe in me, I will respond.’”

The historical context of this story is important, according to Rodriguez, a professor at Seattle University. The apparitions were seen only ten years after the conquest of central Mexico by the Spanish, at a time when the indigenous people of the Americas were devastated.

The notion of a brown-skinned Mary figure was critical to the eventual conversion of millions of indigenous people to Roman Catholicism.

“When indigenous people saw Guadalupe’s image on the cloak, they could recognize the symbols surrounding her; the sun, the stars, the southern cross, and the placement of her hands indicating a gesture of offering,” Rodriguez said.

The sash around Our Lady of Guadalupe’s waist, Rodriguez explained, indicates that she is with child – one of the rare depictions of the mother of God as pregnant.

Today the Basilica of Guadalupe stands on the site where Our Lady of Guadalupe is said to have appeared to Juan Diego. It is one of the top attractions in Mexico, drawing millions of tourists and pilgrims every year. The cloak bearing the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe is on display, its colors seemingly not faded after hundreds of years.

December 12th became a national holiday in Mexico in 1859. 

Pope Pius XXII crowned Our Lady of Guadalupe “Empress of the Americas” in 1945, and she has long been recognized as the patron saint of Mexico.

The Immaculate Conception and The Holy Eucharist

Wherever you find a love for, and a devotion to, the Virgin Mother of God, invariably you will find a more fervent response to Jesus in the Holy Eucharist. We could never speak in terms of eating the flesh and drinking the blood of the Son of God had it not been for Mary who channeled that human body and human soul to Him for us to eat and to drink. Some would say that Mary’s union with her Divine Son in Holy Communion from the hand of St. John the Apostle was more intimate, even closer, than when the Son of God was wrapped for nine months in her own immaculate flesh. The fully human consciousness of Jesus is present in the Risen Lord of the Holy Eucharist.

Mary is the Mediatrix of All Grace, especially the greatest grace and gift of them all: Her Divine Son in the Sacrament of His Love. She it was who stood so bravely beside Him at the foot of His Cross during his first Mass as He hung there dying, making available to us until the end of time His most Precious Body and Blood. A Father of the Church went so far as to say that Mary would have been willing to slay Her Divine Son with her own hands, if that were God’s will, just as Abraham was prepared to slay his son Isaac at the request of God. The only measure of Mary’s love is always to be without measure, just as with Jesus on the Cross and on the Altar.

Isn’t it true: we do well the things we prepare well for? When God the Father sent God the Son into this world, He was not too particular about His Son’s food or clothing or lodging; but He was most particular about the appointments of His mother. She had to be perfect; and she was in virtue of her Immaculate Conception. Mary can teach us too to ready the homes of our hearts for Jesus’ coming in Holy Communion. Listen to her! Imitate her readiness: “Behold the handmaid of the Lord. Be it done unto me according to Thy Word.” That was Mary’s “Fiat.” The priest echoes Mary’s “Fiat” over the bread and wine at Holy Mass: “This is My Body. This is My Blood.”

Mary’s shrines throughout the world are the refuge of sinners where countless numbers repent to be prepared for the Holy Eucharist, perhaps after many years of wandering about in the midst. No doubt it was Mary who dried the tears of St. Peter after he had denied Jesus three times so that he might return to the Altar. Mary is the Mother of the Good Shepherd who will still feed us with His Body and Blood, his Truth and His Love so that we will not faint on the way.

Pray for us sinners, Mary, at the hour of our death, too, that we might receive Holy Viaticum, our food for our trip into Eternity.