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.

Celebrating a New O.P.-to-be!

I will lead her into the desert and allure her…

With joyful hearts, we are excited to announce the profession of the first vows of our Sister Mary Francis of the Holy Cross on Saturday, February 16, 2019!

“Faith and family characterize my childhood in San Jose, CA,” Sister Mary Francis wrote in her vocation story.  “I loved going to church and always ran to hug the parish priests when I saw them.  As a little girl, I even wanted to be a priest, but whenever anyone suggested becoming a sister, I replied decidedly ‘No!’  Consecrated life was outside my experience.” Want to know more? Her story continues here.

Please keep her in prayer as she prepares for this important day. Congratulations, Sister!

"Let Us Be Their Followers."

Today we celebrate the feast of several of the Dominican Order’s martyrs in the Far East. Francis de Capillas, a Spanish Dominican, labored for a number of years in the Philippines before going to China in 1642. When he and his fellow Dominican missionary priests arrived in Fogan, they were initially heard and received warmly by the people, and there were numerous conversions to the Christian faith. But shifts in the winds of politics soon changed that. As the ruling dynasty was being wiped out by ruthless and invading Tartars, to try and save themselves, they cast suspicions in the Christians and the missionaries. Soon, persecution began.

While Father Francis and his superior, Father Garcia, were in hiding, they received word that one of their flock was dying. Father Francis asked Father Garcia for permission to cross “enemy” lines and go to him, which Father Garcia granted. All began well - Father Francis made it in time to the dying man and gave him his last Sacraments before he passed away. But as Father Francis was headed back, he was captured by a roving band of Tartars.

The ruling mandarins tried everything to get Father Francis to renounce the Faith. He was tortured by having his feet slowly crushed. When the mandarin saw his unwavering resolution, he demanded to know the secret of his love for suffering. Father Francis responded, “My body suffers, but my soul rejoices, for in suffering there is a likeness between me and Christ.”

Father Francis was then thrown in prison with the roughest criminals. The Christians provided him with food, drink and blankets and clothing, as winter was coming. Most of the food and drink he gave away to his fellow prisoners and he shared his blanket with two of the filthiest prisoners in their cell. His example and words converted so many of his fellow prisoners and caused the jailors to show him leniency and kindness. When the mandarin heard of this, he was once more infuriated and had Father Francis flogged with bamboo reeds so hard, he could hardly move for three days.

Eventually there was again a shift of political power, but the death of the mandarin and rise of a new leader did not change Father Francis’ situation. Instead, the Christians were again implicated and the new viceroy issued the order for Father Francis’ execution. When Father Francis heard the news, he turned to his friends and flock. "Dwell together in peace, my friends," said Francis with triumph in his voice. "I go now to my death."

The saint was led out to a nearby hill. Here he was like Jesus stripped of his garments save only his stockings which could not be removed because of the horrible condition of his crushed and blood-caked feet. His hands were bound behind his back, and he knelt peacefully to receive the blow of the executioner's sword on January 15, 1648.

Blessed Francis was the first martyr of the Order in China. In the following century, several Spanish Dominicans were martyred at Foochow including Bishop Peter Sanz on May 26, 1747; and on October 28, 1748, Bishop Francis Serrano along with the priests Joachim Royo, John Alcober and Francisco Diaz.

Martyrs of China, pray for us!

Jesus' Second Birthday

Today we celebrate Jesus’ birthday. “Wait a minute?” You might exclaim. “Didn’t we do that a couple weeks ago?” Saint Maximus of Turin can explain.

At Christmas he was born a man; today he is reborn sacramentally. Then he was born from the Virgin; today he is born in mystery. When he was born a man, his mother Mary held him close to her heart; when he is born in mystery, God the Father embraces him with his voice when he says: “This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased: listen to him.” The mother caresses the tender baby on her lap; the Father serves his Son by his loving testimony. The mother holds the child for the Magi to adore; the Father reveals that his Son is to be worshiped by all the nations.

But why would Jesus, a holy man, indeed, sinless, seek to be baptized by John, a baptism of repentance. Saint Maximus goes on:

Christ is baptized, not to be made holy by the water, but to make the water holy, and by his cleansing to purify the waters which he touched. For the consecration of Christ involves a more significant consecration of the water.

Jesus was baptized to cleanse the water - He was consecrated so that the water would be consecrated for our consecration into him. As the Israelites followed the pillar of cloud and fire through the Red Sea when they left the slavery of Egypt, we follow Jesus through the waters of baptism and are made free from sin - we become marked as God’s own and undertake a new path of life to holiness.

In three weeks, we will celebrate another related event in Jesus’ life - his presentation in the Temple. It was Jewish law that every firstborn male belonged to God and had to be redeemed by offering a sacrifice. Presentation, consecration, sacrifice. This is still how we grow in love of God and holiness today. Jesus’ life is re-presented (or should be) in the life of every baptized Christian.

It is also on the Feast of the Presentation that the Church celebrates World Day of Consecrated Life. As we celebrate Jesus baptism and give thanks for our own, let’s prepare to recognize consecrated men and women who follow Him in a very particular way. Beginning Friday, February 1st at 4:00 p.m. Pacific, a worldwide 40 Hours for Consecrated Life will begin! Will you offer to the Lord one hour for consecrated life? Take the pledge and invite your family, friends and parish to do the same! Also, be sure to follow this event on Facebook!

Epiphany and the Melting Pot Dinner

By now in the world, Christmas is a distant memory.  But in the monastery, we are still celebrating in full swing.  Where Christmas tends to be big and flashy, with lots of greetings and gifts between our community and our family, friends, and benefactors, Epiphany is a big feast for us as a community and it is marked in a special way by our novitiate sisters.

When a young woman enters the monastery, she primarily lives and works in the novitiate wing of the monastery under the guidance and instruction of the novice mistress.  It is a beautiful and grace-filled time, almost akin to “monastic childhood”.  And when she leaves the novitiate and integrates into the professed community, the doors of the novitiate are then closed to her.  Literally.  As a professed sister, if she needs something or someone in the novitiate, she must ring a bell outside the novitiate workroom and wait for someone to answer.

But on Epiphany, the novitiate community hosts the professed community for a feast!  The novitiate common room is decorated and set for dining and the novitiate sisters spend the day cooking and preparing.  Actually, the preparing starts the day before or even earlier!  And depending on the sisters, you never quite know what you’ll get.  With our novitiate community, we often joke with delight that novitiate-prepared meals are “East Meets West.”  This Epiphany was no exception – the table was set with spring rolls and peanut sauce, Calabrese-style “no meat” balls with zesty marinara, deep fried Brussel sprouts with honey-sriracha sauce, a snowman pumpkin pie, æbleskiver (a Danish sweet), xôi vị (Vietnamese sweet rice desert), Vietnamese snowballs, and more!

In the course of dinner, our three wise “men” visited the festivities with little gifts for each of the sisters, some handmade by the sisters and others donated by a sister’s family and held just for this occasion.  Music, games and fun conversations over a Christmas picture slide show rounded out a beautiful evening, which was all too short.  But when the bell rang, we were ready to close the day singing praises to God in Compline.

Deo gratias!

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.

Dominican Joy (with Our Latest Video)!

Our crocheted Holy Family, made by one of the sisters, traveling to Bethlehem.

A young woman recently completed her aspirancy with our community. As she was nearing the end of her month-long stay, one of the sisters asked her, “Has anything surprised you during your time here?” The young woman smiled and exuberantly responded, “You’re all crazy – in a good way! I didn’t expect you to have so much fun!”

She’s not the first to be surprised by our Dominican joy. While Dominicans cannot claim to be the only joyful religious (thanks be to God!), it is something that marks us in a special way, just as it marked Our Holy Father Dominic. Why is this? Christmas and the origins of our Order can give us a few clues.

We are familiar with fairy tales where Prince Charming swoops in and rescues the beautiful maiden from a life of hardship and poverty. But what if the poor maiden was bound to that life in such a way she couldn't just be swept off to the castle? Would Prince Charming set aside his crown and riches, roll up his sleeves and toil and sweat for the love of the maiden? God did, only infinitely more. That first Christmas…after thousands of years of waiting, in the fullness of time, God gave us His Son, born tiny and helpless and poor. God became man. In the midst of our suffering and darkness, God became one of us, one with us, so that we might become one with Him. Our suffering became His suffering. And His joy becomes our joy… His peace, our peace… His love, our love.

Blessed Margaret of Castello and Saint Francis of Assisi escorting the Baby Jesus to meet Joseph and Mary.

Fast forward a little over 1,000 years later to Midi-France. Saint Dominic and his bishop Diego encounter a particular poverty and darkness: the rich seem only interested in their wealth and the poor were suffering immensely with little hope. To make matters worse, a group of people are spreading beliefs which include the teaching that the physical world was created by an evil “god” and that Jesus did not really suffer with us, for us. It seemed to them too unbelievable that God, a good God, would have any part of sin and suffering. There are many consequences to believing this, and here is one: we know the proof of love is the willingness to set oneself aside and endure hardship and suffering for the beloved. If God did not actually become Incarnate, did not actually die on the cross and rise again, but it was all "just a show", where is love? Where is hope and redemption? It was to these suffering poor that Diego and Dominic, and a growing number of others, sought to offer hope and joy of the Good News – God is with us! He is one with us – with our work, our suffering, and He came to give us hope and love.

Like our Holy Father Dominic, we Dominicans are exuberant in rejoicing in this Good News – it is all grace! A free gift of love from God! His answer to our suffering was not to keep His distance, or simply pat us on the head with a slightly patronizing “There, there.” His answer to the deepest suffering, the darkest night of humankind was to become Emmanuel. How can this Good News not cause us to leap up and shout with joy?

But Dominican joy has one more facet – we are compelled to share the reason for our joy with others and to invite, urge them, to share our joy! We must preach, we must proclaim to others this Good News. How we do this varies with our specific vocation – friar, nun, apostolic sister or laity – but do it, we must. And so, in proper time and measure, we fast from the good things of God and mortify ourselves in various ways so as to proclaim that “we do not live by bread alone,” and to make evermore room for Him in our hearts. But when the time comes to feast, there is no celebration like a Dominican celebration!

In honor of Christmas and the reason for our hope and joy, we are delighted to share with you our latest video. The chant, “Verbum Caro” is part of our Vigil Office as we wait and pray in preparation for the Christmas Mass at Midnight.

Merry Christmas and may God bless you throughout the New Year!

Saint John - He Saw and He Believed

He saw and he believed. St. John saw an empty tomb and burial cloths rolled up and folded; he believed the mysterious words of his Master, “on the third day he will rise again”. St. John did not need to see Jesus. It was enough that his body was no longer in the tomb.

In the same way, Simeon, years earlier, had been satisfied at seeing and holding in his arms a tiny baby: “Now Lord you can let your servant can go in peace. Your word has been fulfilled.” Simeon did not need to see the child advance in wisdom, age and favor to carry out his saving mission. It was enough that he had come into the world to fulfill the promises so long awaited. Simeon died and waited among the just. How glad he must have been when Jesus triumphantly threw open the gates of heaven: “I knew it was just small a matter of time!”

John had waited those three days with Mary who knew how to believe the impossible with God. “Three days, we will see him again. It is just small a matter of time.” They did see Him. We see a figure in a nativity scene, but we believe that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we too shall see his glory when the time comes. 

Merry Christmas!

Thank you to all of our family, friends, and benefactors who make our lives merry and bright, and for your continued generous giving of time, talent, and treasure in support of our Dominican cloistered life.

. We are especially remembering you today in our prayers and thanksgiving.