Ashes, Dust and Love

Penance. Suffering. Ashes and dust. It’s that time of liturgical year again. It’s Ash Wednesday. The beginning of Lent. Many of us have a love/hate relationship with this penitential season. We enter into with different levels of commitment. Some of us get pretty creative in our fast and penitential practices to ease into it and slide through. After all, it is innate in us to avoid suffering and seek pleasure. Yet, there is something about the season of Lent that speaks to us on a deeper, more profound level. We NEED it, even if we aren’t sure exactly what to do or how to go about getting the most spiritually out of the season. So, often it stretches before us, six weeks of purple.

So what is the season of Lent about? Is it merely to inflict pain and punishment, to make us feel bad about ourselves and our sins? To bring gloom and doom down on us as we are reminded “you are dust, and to dust you shall return”? Certainly if we were a people without faith in a God of mercy and love, without hope for life with Him in heaven, then Lent would indeed be very dark. But we are ultimately an Easter people, a people of joy and hope and love. Nonetheless, to fully live Easter, we must walk through the passion and death of Christ Jesus, precisely because of sin.

In the creation of Adam and Eve, God made man unique. While we have bodies like the animals, we also have a reason and a will – we are rational creatures. And God gave humans a gift – so long as the mind of man remembered who He was (a creation of God) and remained obedient to Him, then the lower powers of man (his bodily senses and passions) would remain subject to his will and death would be foreign to us. But when Adam and Eve saw the forbidden fruit was good for food, pleasing to the eye, and desirable for wisdom, then took the fruit and ate it, they grabbed at God’s place – they rebelled against the order of creation. Now the carnal appetite of humankind rebels against the spirit and death is the result. Our reason is darkened, our bodies and passions often seek to assert themselves against what we otherwise would will. The forbidden fruit seemed good as food – now we are prone to sins of the flesh (gluttony, lust, sloth). The forbidden fruit was pleasing to the eye – now we are prey to lust of the eyes (greed and envy). And the forbidden fruit was desirable for wisdom – now we puff ourselves up with pride and vainglory and seek to dominate others through wrath.

Fast forward to Jesus. Immediately after Jesus’ baptism, the Holy Spirit drove Him into the desert for forty days and nights – a time of prayer and fasting. It was in the desert that Jesus was tempted by Satan to sin. In His responses to Satan, Jesus shows us how to respond in freedom. Jesus was tempted to turn stones into bread and satisfy His fleshly hunger. He responds, “Man does not live by bread alone.” Jesus was taken to the top of the temple and told to prove He was to Son of God by jumping off – after all, God promised to catch Him (Satan even quotes Scripture in this temptation). But this was a temptation to pride. Jesus answers with humility – “you shall not put the Lord, your God, to the test.” Finally, Jesus was led to a mountaintop and shown the world – it would all be His, if He would just do homage to Satan – a temptation to grab power and possessions, so pleasing to the eye. But at what cost? Jesus says, “Get away, Satan! It is written: The Lord, your God, shall you worship and Him alone shall you serve.”

In the practice of prayer, we are reminded that God is “He who is” and we are those who are not. That is to say, as we grow in relationship with God through prayer, we come to see more clearly the truth about God and ourselves. We grow in humility, charity, and all the virtues as He pours His grace out upon us. But we have to open ourselves up to Him and we do this through prayer.

Through the practice of fasting, penance and mortifications, we bring the body and passions back into subjection to our reason and will. Like a spoiled child that has to be disciplined and trained, our senses, carnal desires and passions need to be purified and brought back into right order. Of course, we can only do this with God’s grace. We are also reminded how weak and helpless we are apart from God. We cannot rely on our own strength – though we work and strive as if it all depends on us, we pray for God’s help and abandon ourselves to Him as if it all depends on Him.

Finally, though almsgiving, that is, the corporal and spiritual works of mercy, we become detached from the things of this world and freed from the sins of greed and envy. We stop worrying about what tomorrow will bring because we learn to trust God’s providence, while at the same time growing in charity toward our neighbors.

Lent is not about punishing ourselves. It is not God’s intent that we simply suffer, as if that were the goal in itself. In St. Catherine’s Dialogue, she repeatedly records God telling her that suffering is NOT a proper goal. Prayer, penitential acts and works of mercy are only worth anything at all because they spring from, are rooted in, and lead to love. So if our Lenten practices are not leading us deeper in relationship with God, helping us do good and avoid sin – in a nutshell, aiding us to more perfectly keep the commands to love God and neighbor – then we need to go back, reassess and adjust our practices.

So, how do your practices of prayer, penance and almsgiving help you love God and neighbor? How can we grow in holiness this Lent? How can we better prepare ourselves to welcome Jesus, like a bride greeting her beloved, on Easter morning?

Mary, Our Patroness

Since Jesus told the beloved apostle, “Behold your mother,” at the cross, Christians have gone to Mary, as she is our mother in the order of grace. But Dominicans have a special devotion to Our Lady as she is our Patroness. Blessed Humbert of Romans declared that “the Blessed Virgin was of great help in the beginning of the Order…and it is to be hoped that she will bring it to a good end.” (Opera II< 70-71). From the very beginning of the Order, stories abound of how Mary helped bring our Order into existence and of her continual care and protection of its members. Here is one such story as told by one of the first nuns of the Order, Blessed Cecilia.

How the Blessed Virgin Appeared to [Saint Dominic] in Prayer and Revealed her Protection Over the Order

One night, after prolonging his prayers until midnight, he left the church and came to the dormitory, where he completed what he had come to do and, taking his place at one end of the dormitory, continued to pray. As he stood praying, he glanced at the other end of the dormitory and saw three beautiful women enter, but noticed that the one in the middle was a venerable lady far more beautiful and dignified than the other two. One of them was carrying a beautiful, shining vessel and the other an aspersorium which she handed to the lady in the center, who went from bed to bed sprinkling the brethren with holy water and blessing them.

The lady said to Blessed Dominic: “I am the one you call upon in the evening. When you say, ‘Turn therefore most gracious advocate thine eyes of mercy toward us,’ I prostrate myself before my Son and ask him to preserve this Order.” After this she continued to sprinkle and bless all the others and then disappeared.

When she was gone Blessed Dominic returned to pray in the place he stood before. Suddenly, he was rapt in spirit before God and saw Our Lord and the Blessed Virgin sitting at His right. It seemed to Blessed Dominic that Our Lady was wearing a cape of bright blue, the color of sapphire. As Blessed Dominic looked around, he could see religious of all the orders but his own around the throne of God, so that he began to weep bitterly and stood far away, not daring to approach the Lord and His mother.

Then Our Lady motioned for him to come near. But he would not dare, until Our Lord Himself also called him. Then Blessed Dominic cast himself before them weeping bitterly. But Our Lord told him to rise, and when he did, Our Lord asked him, “Why are you weeping so?” “I am weeping because I see all the other orders here but no sign of my own.” And the Lord said to him, “Do you want to see your Order?” And he answered, “Yes, Lord.”

Then Our Lord, putting his hand upon the shoulder of the Blessed Virgin, said to Blessed Dominic, “I have entrusted your Order to my Mother.” Then he asked him again, “Do you still wish to see your Order?” And against he answered, “Yes, Lord.” Then the Blessed Virgin opened the cape which covered her and spread it out before Blessed Dominic, to whom it seemed vast enough to cover the entire heaven and, under it, he saw a large multitude of the brethren. Then, prostrating himself, Blessed Dominic gave thanks to God and to Blessed Mary His Mother.

Detail from an altar card illuminated by the Dominican nuns of our monastery.

Go to Joseph!

This is the advice given by many saints, and Dominicans are no exception. The Dominicans began invoking Saint Joseph in the Litany of the Saints before he was added to the Litany according to the Roman. The sixty-third Master of the Order, Father Jandel, often recommended to the friars devotion to Saint Joseph.

Saint Joseph assists the young Dominican novice to imitate the simplicity and docility of the Infant Jesus. For those who are devoted to the Holy Rosary, he obtains knowledge and love of the mysteries of Mary. Those engaged in work, labor with more courage under the eye and by the example of Saint Joseph. Those engaged in study can better sanctify in his sweet company the hours spent; the apostle, called to go into the world, carries there the same blessings which the Holy Family, with Saint Joseph for guide, carried into Egypt. The dying sanctify under this holy patronage their last hours, and obtain a more peaceful end and after death received more abundant prayers.

It was in order to obtain these more fervent suffrages that the holy brother Joseph de Rueda every night when the bell rang for the prayers for the dead, went and sprinkled the graves with holy water, and then the cells of the prior and the brethren, in the hope that all would recite more devoutly the prayers for the dead. And in our community, one of our devotions to Saint Joseph is to pray his memorare each evening after Supper.

Saint Joseph, pray for us!

Based on an excerpt from Saints and Saintly Dominicans, edited by Rev. Thomas a Kempis Reilly, O.P. (John Murphy Company, 1915).

Lust, Love and Angelic Warfare

There once lived a boy who was born to a wealthy and prominent family. He had the world at his fingertips, but there was a question that burned in his young heart and mind: who is God? His life began to circle around answering this all-important question. His family made plans for him: if he wanted to search for God, he could do that as abbot of a wealthy and powerful Benedictine monastery. But then one day, he encountered a new kind of religious: poor, mendicant friars, living an apostolic life, traveling from town to town and preaching the Gospel with joy. Here was his future: the Apostolic Life of prayer, study, community and preaching.

His mother was appalled. His brothers scoffed and locked him in a tower of the family castle until he changed his mind. His sisters begged and cajoled. He converted them to his way of thinking. Then his brothers decided to try a different approach. He was a young, vigorous man, after all. So they sent into his room a beautiful woman of ill repute to seduce him.

What was his response to the temptation against his chastity? Was he completely indifferent to the temptation, a “cold fish”? Did he think himself above danger? Did he flounder or cave under the flirtations of the woman before him? No, on all counts. His reaction was swift and passionate in its own right – he grabbed a burning log from the fire and chased the woman from the room. Then, using his fiery brand, he marked the sign of the cross on the wall and collapsed in prayer, begging God’s grace to preserve him from falling into these temptations and for His deliverance from them. In answer to this prayer, God sent two angels to bind him with a cord about his waist and assured him he would never again be tempted against chastity.

This story eventually gave rise to the Angelic Warfare Confraternity and devotion to St. Thomas Aquinas as a patron saint of purity and chastity. Those who become members of the Confraternity enjoy the intercession of St. Thomas and certain aids for the purpose of formation and perseverance in the virtue of chastity according to their state of life. Confraternity members are devoted “to St. Thomas Aquinas and the truths he taught about the integrity of body, emotions and will with the truth about human sexuality.” They also commit to pray daily for one another, that all confraternity members may preserve and grow in the virtue of chastity and purity.

Many people today, especially the youth, can understand and draw encouragement from the example of Brother Thomas, his trial and triumph, and strength from the prayers of Confraternity members united together under the patronage of Our Lady of the Rosary and St. Thomas Aquinas. We encourage you to learn more about this Confraternity.

St. Thomas Aquinas, pray for us!

The Story of a Princess Dominican

Once upon a time, there lived a king and his queen in a beautiful land. For a time, peace and prosperity reigned in this land. Then, whispers and rumors came of a storm brewing and moving toward them. A destructive and blood-thirsty people, the Tartars, were coming. The king and queen grew vigilant, but the people could not be roused from their peace and comfort, and dismissed the threat. Then, the storm descended and the Tartars invaded the peaceful land, destroying what the people had built.

The king sent his children and pregnant queen to another noble, who, seeing an opportunity to grab power for himself, sought to exploit the king’s vulnerability by rousing other nobles and the people against him. Eventually, the king was driven to run and, reuniting with his queen and children, fled to make a last stand at a stronghold on an island. Two of his three children died in the course of their escape and, as they watched the Tartars building boats and readying themselves to cross the waters to the island, it appeared the rest of the royal family would soon follow them in death. Desperate, the king and queen knelt down and prayed. “God, should you see fit to deliver us and our people from these violent people, we will consecrate our unborn child to you, in the service of St. Dominic’s Order.”

At the completion of their prayer, another storm began, this one from nature. For three days, their place of refuge was buffeted by the winds and rains. At the end of the third day, as the storm began to break, the priest with them heard their confessions and prepared them for the death all thought to be inevitable. But as they went outside to meet their fate, they were met instead with calm and clear skies. There was no sign of the invaders anywhere. And they never returned to the land. Returning home, the queen gave birth to a little baby girl they named Margaret.

True to their promise, when the little girl was three years old, they took her to a Dominican monastery to be educated with other girls of noble birth. But soon the nuns realized little Margaret was different from the others girls. She spent her time in prayer instead of play. If the other girls invited her to play, she insisted they all go to the chapel first and pray an “Ave”. Watching the nuns, Margaret learned the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary by rote and would recite it to herself during the day. When she heard the nuns made certain sacrifices and acts of mortification for Jesus, she begged permission to do the same.

One day, she asked the meaning of the crucifix, and was told how the Son of God became man and died for us on the cross. She sank down on her little knees, kissed and hugged the crucifix tightly, burst into tears, and said:

O my Jesus! Me too! To You I give myself, for You I abandon all things.

The nuns and others observed her understanding and reasoning seemed to be more advanced than other girls her age. When she was four years old, she begged, and was permitted, to receive the Dominican habit. She received it with such gravity and respect, all the nuns were filled with admiration.

Her parents build a convent for her on an island in the Danube River, on the outskirts of Budapest, and she moved there with several sisters when she was ten years old. The community grew quickly and soon numbered seventy sisters. Despite her royal lineage, she longed to be treated as a worthless servant, desiring only to share in Jesus’ life and sufferings. She was never prioress or held any other position of prestige or authority, even in her own monastery, and no job was too difficult or menial for her. In fact, she sought the dirtiest and most repugnant work and took special delight in caring for the especially difficult sisters in the infirmary. In offering her mind to God, she set about memorizing all 150 Psalms and the Conferences by John Cassian in Latin, among many other Scripture passages, prayers, and written works.

One day, the king of Bohemia chanced to meet her on a visit to the monastery and was beguiled by her beauty. Smitten, he asked permission of her father to marry, who responded with the fact that she was dedicated to God. Undaunted, the king of Bohemia asked, if he could obtain a dispensation for her from the pope, would he consent? The match was politically compelling…and just think of all the good Margaret could do for the people of Hungary and Bohemia as queen! Her father agreed that, if he could obtain permission of both the pope and his daughter, he would grant his consent. The pope granted the dispensation, but Margaret adamantly refused. Despite arguments and pressure from her parents, she held her ground: she would not break the promise of her dedication to God, and would rather die than marry. You see, Margaret had already given her heart, mind, body, and soul to another Love.

Margaret continued her penances, long vigils, and tireless works of charity within the cloister. In all things, she offered herself for the glory of God and the salvation of souls, in particular, her own people. The Cross was all she needed to be spurred on to her heroic acts of love and sacrifice. One of the items she cherished most was a crucifix in which was kept a small relic of the True Cross and she was often found praying in front of a crucifix, with tears streaming down her face.

A fellow sister once asked her how to pray well. She responded:

Sister, offer God your body and your soul, and let your heart be always near Him, with neither death nor tribulation, nor anything here below being able to detach it from Him; thus you will pray well.

In her desire to be the poorest of the poor, she chose to wear the poorest, roughest, most threadbare habits. If she was given anything new and of better quality, with permission, she immediately sought to give it away to benefit the poor. Her knees were cracked and gnarled from her long prayers and her hands were often chapped and bled from her work. Her face was marked with tears of compassion and sorrow for sins from her prayers, streaking through the dirt and grime she picked up from her tasks. Because of her resulting poor and dirty appearance, some of her own sisters became embarrassed and avoided her. She was not ignorant to this fact. Shortly before her death, she told her sisters:

You will no longer want to keep away from me then, for my body will be as fragrant after death as it is displeasing to you now.

Though this treatment from her sisters may have stung her sensitive heart, she was joyful to be treated as Jesus was – scorned and despised. When her sisters encouraged her to spare herself and moderate her sacrifices and penances so that she may live longer, she simply looked at them with her delightful smile and replied:

Many of the people who look forward to a long life in this valley of tears put off doing good works, since they think that they will have plenty of time before they die. As for me, I prefer to be of the number of those who, being anything but certain of a long life, consider that they have no time to lose if they wish to give God all the glory that they can before they die. Besides, we all know that it is a waste of time to live here in a convent if we are looking for rest and comfort for our mortal body and for the joys of this world. The enclosure is a suitable home only for those who are seeking those things which are eternal.

Reading accounts of her life, we cannot help but wonder, “How can I possibly relate to this?!” For we have the incredible story of a princess who became a pauper and endured much pain and hardship, whose life was filled with unbelievable graces and miracles. But ultimately, her story is the fairy tale that is not a fairy tale – it is a love story Jesus invites us all to live. The one where we recognize that the end is the beginning: the ultimate purpose of our life on earth is not to live the soft, luxurious life of a princess, to seek riches, power, or pleasure, even if those things could be used to do good. Because, ultimately, whether rich or poor, talented or not, we are all poor servants and the only treasure that will last is that to which we look for in eternity.

St. Margaret of Hungary, O.P., died when she was twenty-eight years old. Before she died, she was given the grace to know the date of her death. While in still perfect health and vigor, she told a sister on January 8, 1270, “I will die in ten days.” After a few days of violent fever, on the 18th of January, she died, having spent 24 of her 28 years in the religious habit.

A few days before Margaret died, a Premonstratensian nun in a neighboring convent, saw in a vision the Blessed Virgin Mary descend to the Dominican convent and place a magnificent crown on the head of Sister Margaret, when she led her to heaven amid the sounds of ravishing music. Another nun of the same order saw a brilliant star go up to heaven at the moment Margaret died. During her life, Margaret worked many miracles, but after her death, they were very numerous – no less than two hundred having been proved: the blind, the lame, the paralyzed, and the sick obtained a cure at her tomb. She is invoked as patron saint against floods and fevers.

St. Margaret of Hungary, pray for us.

P.S. Want to know more about this amazing Dominican saint? There were many miracles that St. Margaret of Hungary performed while alive (and even more attributed to her intercession after she died), but here’s a couple from “Margaret: Princess of Hungary” (written by S.M.C. and published by the Blackfriars), that involve Dominican friars and also reveal a bit of her personality and sense of humor.

One day, a friar came to the monastery to preach to the nuns. The community invited him to stop the night and give them a second sermon the next day. The friar refused; he had work to do and could not spare the time. Leaving the parlor, he went in search of his horse and trap, for King Bela had evidently built a bridge from the mainland to the island. Margaret was very anxious for him to remain; when, however, she saw that he was determined to go, she made no comment but betook herself to prayer.

When the Friar reached his trap, he found that the vehicle was broken and unusable. On making wrathful inquires, he was assured no one had touched it. There was nothing else to be done but to make the best of a bad job, go back to the monastery for the night and give the nuns the sermon they had requested. He also must have had a sense of humor, and he had made a good guess as to the cause of the mishap, for the next morning, when his exhortation was ended, turning to Margaret, he said:

You have forced me to do what you wanted, Sister; now you must give me back my trap.

Margaret still said nothing, but betook herself again to prayer and straightway the vehicle was found completely repaired, though no one had been near it since the previous day.

The same thing happened to another friar who refused to stay and preach a second sermon; only in this case, the victim had gone some distance before the break-down of his cart forced his return. On a third occasion when a like request had been refused, Margaret said she would pray for such a downpour of rain as should force his return; and this is what actually happened.

And the last miracle we will share here was worked because her truthfulness was called into question (and also explains why Margaret is invoked in floods). Margaret had been relating to the Provincial and a group of sisters some circumstances connected with a flood of the Danube she had seen. The Provincial refused to believe her; he told her that it was impossible for anything of the sort to have occurred, and that she must have imagined it.

Margaret was angry, for to call her truthfulness into question in this way was to cast a doubt on her honor as a Dominican; and she gloried in belonging to the Order of Truth. She cried out:

My God, I beg of you to show that I am speaking the truth!

Immediately the waters of the Danube began to rise, overflowing the river banks. Swiftly rose the river, and soon the community were driven from the shore where they had been standing back to the monastery. Still the water continued to rise until the whole ground floor of the building was submerged, and the nuns were obliged to retire to the upper part of the house.

The Provincial, somewhat perturbed, climbed the enclosure wall, and from this vantage point watched the flood waters continue to rise. Then the nuns gathered around Margaret, begging her to undo the mischief she had done. This she was quite willing to do now that the veracity of her statement had been proved. So she prayed again, and the waters immediately began to subside. The flood had begun just after Vespers (sunset), and by Matins (midnight) the river was again flowing smoothly between its banks; and more wonderful still, it had carried its mud back with it, leaving no trace whatsoever of the flood.

Dominican Friar, Master of the Order, and Patron Saint of Lawyers

One of the windows in the nuns’ choir of our monastery. Each window depicts a symbol or emblem of a Dominican saint.

A few minutes’ drive (or walk) from our monastery is a community of our brothers, living and serving under the patronage of St. Raymond of Penyafort. The community of friars serves St. Raymond of Penyafort parish and school, Stanford University, Vallambrosa Retreat Center, and provides chaplaincy to our monastery. We are ever more grateful for the tireless service they offer the community, and our community as well. Truly, they faithfully give themselves to the glory of God and salvation of souls in the example of their patron. So who was St. Raymond of Penyafort?

St. Raymond of Penyafort is an shining example of a person living daily a life of quiet fidelity, humility and sanctity. The Church remembers St. Raymond as an exemplar confessor and for his contributions to canon law. His brothers and sisters in the Order remember him for his steady and tireless giving of himself and the fruits of his contemplation, even well past the age we would think a person entitled to “retire.” For St. Raymond, “to live was Christ” (Phil. I:21).

In a castle near Barcelona, in the quiet, sleepy countryside of medieval Catalonia, lived the Penyafort family. It was here that St. Raymond was born and grew. As a child, he was dedicated by his parents to serve the Church and at an early age was sent to school in Barcelona. Upon completing his education, he began to teach in Bologna, but after a few years, decided to continue his studies. Possessing a brilliant mind, he eventually set his sights on specializing in canon law, and so moved to Bologna, Italy, which had the preeminent university for law at that time.

Upon completing his doctorate, he began to teach in Bologna. In those days, professors and students negotiated tuition fees – students paid for each class taught by the professor. However, St. Raymond believed that knowledge was a gift from God, so he never demanded payment for his classes from his students. In fact, he was horrified that some of his colleagues demanded such high payments from their students that they lived in relative luxury, while some students were so poor, one would have to stay home while another went to class wearing the only set of clothes they had between them! Nonetheless, the city of Bologna was so afraid of losing St. Raymond to a rival school, the governing officials voted to give him an annual stipend.

As a young professor, St. Raymond wrote many works, useful to his contemporaries and colleagues, and which are still the object of study. But his most notable written work for the Church was compiling the Decretals of Gregory IX. The Decretals were the code by which the discipline of the Church was directed from day of their promulgation, September 5, 1234, until May 19, 1918, when the Code of Canon Law became effective. In other words, for over six hundred and eighty-three years the collection of the Decretals made by St. Raymond was the authentic source of legislation in the Church.

When he was forty-seven, the year after St. Dominic’s death, St. Raymond donned the white habit of a Dominican novice and began a new mode of life. His entering the Dominicans caused a huge stir in the university city of Bologna, as well as a sudden surge of new vocations to the Dominicans. As a Dominican, he became Master of the Order after the death of Bl. Jordan of Saxony and compiled the Liber Constitutionum Ordinis Fratrum Praedicatorum, the Dominican Constitutions. Later, he encouraged St. Thomas Aquinas to write his Summa Contra Gentiles. As a missionary and apostle, he co-founded, with St. Peter Nolasco, the Order of Our Lady of Ransom (for the redemption of Christian captives). Yearning to convert the peoples of the East, he founded schools in Barcelona and Tunis for the study of oriental languages.

After two years of intense labor as Master of the Order, citing ill health, St. Raymond begged to be allowed to resign as Master. Though his resignation was eventually accepted (and the accepting friars were penanced severely for letting him go), St. Raymond continued to labor for the Order and Church. He was appointed, at different times, as confessor to the pope and king, and as papal penitentiary he pronounced on difficult cases of conscience. He wrote various works for the guidance of confessors and canonists, and in art he is pictured holding a key, the symbol of confession.

St. Raymond of Penyafort, pray for us!

P.S. – Give up on the life event depicted in our stained glass window? St. Raymond was always consulted by King James I of Aragon in every important affair of state. Toward the end of his life, St. Raymond accompanied King James I to an island to obtain the conversion of the Moors. However, King James also brought with him his mistress. St. Raymond reproved the king several times, but to no avail. Refusing to be part of the royal entourage, he began looking for a ship to take him back to the mainland. But, every captain had been forbidden under penalty of death to give him passage. Undaunted, St. Raymond said to his fellow friar, “You will see that the King of Heaven will confound the wickedness of this earthly King and provide me with a ship.”

With that, he walked to the seashore, removed his black cappa and cast one part upon the water and fastened the other part to his staff. Kneeling on the part floating on the surface of the water, he invited his fellow friar to do likewise; but the friar declined. Making the sign of the cross, St. Raymond pushed off from shore and quickly sailed away on his cappa. He made the voyage of 180 miles in six hours, faster than any ship at that time. When he reached shore, a crowd had gathered, seeing him on the water. He stepped on land, picked up his cappa and put it back on his shoulders, as dry as if it had never touched water. He walked to the convent, which was locked; but suddenly, he was inside the cloister without anyone seeing how he got in, or hearing him.

When news of the miracle reached King James, he sincerely repented and gave up his sinful life, and he and St. Raymond became friends once more.

The Gift of the Fourth Wise Man

How many Magi visited the Holy Family? We don’t actually know, because Scripture doesn’t specify exactly. Tradition tells us there were three because Scripture mentions three gifts they brought: gold, frankincense and myrrh. But legend speaks of a fourth. Here is his story.

Far to the east of the sea, lived a small group of men known to be wise. They had studied the teachings of their forebears and watched the signs of nature, intuiting hidden secrets discovered only by those patient and watchful enough to see them. But no matter how much they learned, they still thirsted for more. It was as if true wisdom was still veiled, hidden, from their sight. They felt they were closest to this eternal wisdom at night when they could watch the stars. When the world was covered in silent darkness, the stars seemed to be pinpricks in the fabric of creation, letting through the true light of wisdom.

Four of these men were assembled together one night, as was their custom, on the roof of a house. Suddenly, something caught their attention - a star, brighter than the rest. But not just any star, they knew in their hearts. THE STAR. Someone very great, a king, had risen in the world, and they felt compelled to follow it and do him homage. So they prepared for the long, arduous journey, not knowing exactly where they would end up or how long it would take. Along with all their provisions, they packed gifts fit for a king, priceless treasures. And off they went.

But as they traveled, they met poor and desperate people along the way. And the fourth wise man’s heart was moved with deep compassion for them, and he began to give away his treasures and possessions. His friends smiled and shook their heads, and his heart was lightened at the joy in the faces of those whose suffering he was able to relieve.

Then, the star stopped! They had arrived! As his friends unpacked their gifts, the fourth wise man was grief-stricken and sorrowful - he had given everything away! His treasures, all his provisions, he had nothing to present to this great king! This was an immense sign of disrespect in his culture, but he simply could not turn back now. His heart held a great yearning to see this new king. And so, with head lowered and heart heavy, he followed his friends into the little house. Each of the first three presented their gifts and did him homage: gold, frankincense and myrrh. Kingly and priestly gifts indeed. The room was still as everyone turned to the fourth Magi. He could not bear to raise his head but simply stepped forward and held out his arms to show their emptiness. Tears welled up and began to stream down his cheeks as he stumbled over the words to explain.

But before he could say anything, his empty arms were suddenly weighed down with a soft, sturdy bundle. He blinked away the tears and the face of a tiny baby, nestled in blankets, came into focus. And as he looked deep into the infant eyes looking up at him intently, he saw the light of the stars.

Alleluia! Our Paschal Lamb Has Been Sacrificed

Alleluia!  He is risen!  Though we may prepare for Easter with forty days of fasting, we celebrate our new life in Christ by His passion, death and resurrection with fifty days of feasting!  

Loving to the End

What would you do if you knew today would be your last?  That during the night, one of your closest friends would betray you to others who would see that you suffered a cruel and painful death?  Would you gather with your friends for one final farewell?  Would you have one more adventure, one more thrill?  Would you throw up your hands, cry out to God?  Would you try to seek out your betrayer before you were betrayed?  What would you do? 

“When Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart out of this world to the Father, having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end” (John 13:1).  Stop and ponder those words: Jesus knew His time had come and so with His last moments, “He loved [his own] to the end”.  We are included in this as we too are Jesus' own.  He loved us to the end.  

In this last night on earth, Jesus gathered his closest friends and they didn’t look at photos or talk about “the good old days…”  Jesus loved to the end, to the totality of self-giving.  On this night, Jesus poured water into a basin and washed His disciples’ feet; on the cross He will finish pouring out His life, emptying Himself completely in love.  As Pope Benedict XVI writes in “Jesus of Nazareth: Holy Week”:

Unlike Adam, who had tried to grasp divinity for himself, Christ moves in the opposite direction, coming down from His divinity into humanity, taking the form of a servant and becoming obedient even to death on a cross – all this is rendered visible in a single gesture.  Jesus represents the whole of His saving ministry in one symbolic act.  He divests Himself of his divine splendor; He, as it were, kneels down before us; he washes and dries our soiled feet, in order to make us fit to sit at the table for God’s wedding feast.

When we read in the Book of Revelation the paradoxical statement that the redeemed have “washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb” (Rev. 7:14), the meaning is that Jesus’ love “to the end” is what cleanses us, washes us.  The gesture of washing feet expresses precisely this: it is the servant-love of Jesus that draws us out of our pride and makes us fit for God, makes us “clean.”

And we are all represented among the disciples: Thomas, the doubter and a bit of a cynic…John, ever devoted and the one who reclined closest to Jesus heart…impetuous Peter, who always seems to mean well, but who would also betray Jesus with his denials later that night…Philip who voiced the desire of them all to see the Father, yet also reveals they still didn’t quite “get it”…and Judas, a close friend, yet one who was planning to betray Jesus for a bit of extra cash.  We are all there in the Upper Room, gathered with Jesus that night.  And He washes our feet.

Not only that, He also leaves a legacy, one beyond price and description.  He tells them, how much he has longed to share this meal with them.  Not wanting to leave us alone, sheep among wolves, He institutes the Eucharist and gives to mere humans the Real Presence of His body, blood, soul and divinity.  Real food, real drink to strengthen us on our spiritual journey to our heavenly home with Him.  Tonight, we remember in a special and particular way this gift of His Real Presence.  And after, as the disciples left the Upper Room and went with Jesus to the Garden of Gethsemane to be present with Him during His night of agony, He offers us the opportunity to travel with Him to the altars of repose, to sit with Him and “keep watch for one hour.”

Let us not miss this opportunity, this special invitation from Jesus, our Beloved Lord.  As He washes our feet, the affections of our soul, with His grace and love, let us comfort and console Him by accepting the gift of His Presence and the abundance he greatly desires to give us.  Let us offer ourselves to Him by just being with Him this night and allowing Him to transform our hearts and minds.  No matter our past, no matter our present circumstances, no matter what we think might come in the future, let us look to Him right now in this moment of grace with the real hope that we might be drawn ever more closely to Him as He is raised up on the cross of Good Friday.

Something to ponder...

"When they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives."
- Matthew 26:30; Mark 14:26

What did Jesus and His disciples sing?  Most likely, in keeping with Jewish tradition, it would have been at least part of the Hallel Psalms (Psalms 113-18 and 136).  These are hymns and prayers sang by the Jewish people at Passover giving thanks to God for liberating them from slavery in the land of Egypt; but they also speak of the "stone rejected by builders" and pray for God's deliverance in the present.  Past and present come together in these psalms and they are given a new fullness and universal meaning in Jesus.  Spend some time today reading and praying with at least part of these Psalms: imagine Jesus singing them with His disciples, that you are there with them, or imagine that they are present with you where you are now; ask Jesus for the grace to hear Him speak to you through the words of these Psalms in a new way.