Look to Christ!  Come closer to him!  

Pope Leo spoke about Christian Unity at the close of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity today, January 25th:  

My dear friends, every year the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity invites us to renew our commitment to this great mission, bearing in mind that the divisions among us – while they do not prevent the light of Christ from shining – nonetheless make the face which must reflect it to the world less radiant.

Last year, we celebrated the 1700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea.  His Holiness Bartholomew, Ecumenical Patriarch, invited us to celebrate the anniversary in İznik, and I give thanks to God that so many Christian traditions were represented at that commemoration two months ago. 

 Reciting the Nicene Creed together in the very place where it was formulated was a profound and unforgettable testimony to our unity in Christ.  That moment of fraternity also allowed us to praise the Lord for what he accomplished through the Nicene Fathers, helping them to express clearly the truth of a God who drew near to us in Jesus Christ.  May the Holy Spirit find in us docile minds even today, so that we may proclaim the faith with one voice to the men and women of our time!

In the passage from the Letter to the Ephesians chosen as the theme for this year’s Week of Prayer, we repeatedly hear the adjective“one”: one body, one Spirit, one hope, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God (cf. Eph 4:4-6). How can these inspired words not touch us deeply?  How can our hearts not burn within us when we hear them? 

 Yes, “we share the same faith in the one and only God, the Father of all people; we confess together the one Lord and true Son of God, Jesus Christ, and the one Holy Spirit, who inspires us and impels us towards full unity and the common witness to the Gospel” (Apostolic Letter In Unitate Fidei, 23 November 2025, 12).  We are one!  We already are!  Let us recognize it, experience it and make it visible!

As we look toward the 2,000th anniversary of the Passion, Death and Resurrection of the Lord Jesus in 2033, let us commit ourselves to further developing ecumenical synodal practices and to sharing with one another who we are, what we do and what we teach.

Paul in Sin City

We’re reading Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthian for the next few weeks at Sunday Mass. Paul wrote a number of letters to the Christian community he founded after reaching Corinth about the year 50. It was the most exasperating community Paul dealt with, but the Corinthians made him think about faith, so we can thank them for keeping Paul on his toes.

Corinth was a rich, sprawling seaport, being rebuilt as Paul arrived, a frontier city attracting ambitious people from all over the Roman world. They were people who wanted to get ahead. Corinth was a city of “self-made” people; only the tough survived there. It was also a center for prostitution and sexual commerce. We could call it a “sin” city.

Maybe that was a reason why Paul wanted to establish a church there. He was God’s apostle to the Gentiles. Where could be better meet Gentiles than a seaport connected to the whole world. If Christianity could take root there, it could take root anywhere.

When Paul arrived there around the year 50 AD, he did what anybody has to do when they go to a new place– find a place to stay and get a job. He stayed in the house of Prisca and Aquila, a Jewish Christian couple who owned a small shop in Corinth. He worked as a tentmaker in their shop. He met people, and Paul spoke to them of Jesus Christ, and they believed.

Then on the Sabbath in the synagogue he made contacts too, but I think Paul probably did most of his preaching while working. A lot of things can happen when you are working.

To form new believers, Paul asked some of his friends with large houses to hold meetings there. A lot of things happen in homes that don’t happen in church.

Paul generally founded a church and moved on. But when he moved on, troubles often started in many of those communities, so sometimes he wrote letters, and sometimes he had to come back himself to try to straighten things out. There were some grave problems in the church at Corinth. The church was split into factions, based on wealth, status and friendship. It also was confused about sexual morality.

Paul reminded the Corinthians where they came from and who they were. Not many of you were wise or well-born, he told them. God chooses the weak things.

God still does.

Saint Francis de Sales, January 24

Francis de Sales, Bishop of Geneva in the 16th century, had a wonderful approach to holiness. He believed in the uniqueness of every person and recognized the variety of ways God works in people’s lives. That led him to believe in respect and dialogue, especially with someone who doesn’t think like you or is from another religious tradition.

Some years ago, I visited a church in Geneva, Switzerland, center of Calvinism in the 16th century, where Francis was the Catholic bishop. A statue in that church (above) pictures him holding a book and a pen in his hand – not a sword.

Geneva was a city of swords then, real and verbal;  religious differences led to conflict and even bloodshed. Francis believed instead in peaceable dialogue.

Dialogue did not mean for him abandoning your own beliefs or being silent about them. It meant examining and measuring your own beliefs more deeply while listening carefully and respectfully to the beliefs of others to find the truth.

Francis de Sales prepared the Catholic Church for the approach to ecumenism it would take in the 20th century at the Second Vatican Council. He would certainly support the ecumenical movement today.  

 The spiritual writings of Saint Francis de Sales have become classics. Here’s something from  “An Introduction to a Devout Life” that reveals the way he thought and taught. God works in quiet ways, as we see in creation itself.

DSC00154

“When God the Creator made all things, he commanded the plants to bring forth fruit each according to its own kind; he has likewise commanded Christians, who are the living plants of his Church, to bring forth the fruits of devotion, each one in accord with his character, his station and his calling.

“I say that devotion must be practised in different ways by the nobleman and by the working man, by the servant and by the prince, by the widow, by the unmarried girl and by the married woman. But even this distinction is not sufficient; for the practice of devotion must be adapted to the strength, to the occupation and to the duties of each one in particular.

“Tell me, please, my Philothea, whether it is proper for a bishop to want to lead a solitary life like a Carthusian; or for married people to be no more concerned than a Capuchin about increasing their income; or for a working man to spend his whole day in church like a religious; or on the other hand for a religious to be constantly exposed like a bishop to all the events and circumstances that bear on the needs of our neighbour. Is not this sort of devotion ridiculous, unorganised and intolerable? Yet this absurd error occurs very frequently, but in no way does true devotion, my Philothea, destroy anything at all. On the contrary, it perfects and fulfils all things. In fact if it ever works against, or is inimical to, anyone’s legitimate station and calling, then it is very definitely false devotion.

“The bee collects honey from flowers in such a way as to do the least damage or destruction to them, and he leaves them whole, undamaged and fresh, just as he found them. True devotion does still better. Not only does it not injure any sort of calling or occupation, it even embellishes and enhances it.”

You can find this spiritual classic online here.

The opening prayer in today’s liturgy asks God to give us too  Francis’ gentle approach to life: 

O God, who for the salvation of  souls willed that the bishop St. Francis de Sales become all things to all, graciously grant that, following his example we may always display the gentleness of your charity in the service of our neighbor. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

A good prayer and a good saint for our contentious times. 

He’s Out of His Mind: Mark 3:20-21

Mother of Sorrows, Rembrandt

Scripture commentators today often describe Mark’s gospel, which we’re reading now in our lectionary, as a passion narrative with a prelude.  All of Mark’s gospel  tells the story of passion, death and resurrection of Jesus. His whole gospel proclaims the paschal mystery.  

This week’s readings from Mark’s gospel (2nd Week of the Year) are a good example. On Wednesday the scribes coming from Jerusalem say he has a demon; the Pharisees  begin to plot with the Herodians about putting him to death. The trial that condemned him in Jerusalem has already begun.  (Mark 3:1-6)

On Monday we heard ordinary people who received Jesus so enthusiastically begin to question him. “Why do the disciples of John and the disciples of the Pharisees fast, but your disciples do not fast?” (Mark 2, 18-22) Capernaum and other towns around the Sea of Galilee that once welcomed him turn against him. His rejection by the crowds in Jerusalem has also begun. 

Today’s reading adds another group. His own family, when they hear about him in Nazareth, say, “He’s out of his mind,” and they come to bring him home. His own reject him. Mark deals succinctly with this incident, in three short sentences,  almost as if he doesn’t want to talk about it.

“Jesus came with his disciples into the house. Again the crowd gathered, making it impossible for them even to eat. When his relatives heard of this they set out to seize him,  for they said, “He is out of his mind.” (Mark 3:20-21)

So who are the relatives who say he’s out of his mind?

 A few verses later, after the Pharisees say he’s possessed, Mark describes them: “His mother and his brothers arrived. Standing outside they sent word to him and called him. A crowd seated around him told him, ‘Your mother and your brothers* [and your sisters] are outside asking for you.’ But he said to them in reply, ‘Who are my mother and [my] brothers?’ And looking around at those seated in the circle he said, ‘Here are my mother and my brothers. [For] whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.’” (Mark 3: 32-35)

This is the only place in Mark’s gospel where Mary is mentioned besides Mark 6: 3 where Jesus is call “the son of Mary.” It’s the only place we read about this incident in our lectionary. We never read it on Sunday. Is it because it’s considered too difficult for people to understand?

The compilers of our lectionary assigned this gospel to Saturday, traditionally the day associated with the Sorrows of Mary. Luke’s gospel put’s the rejection of Jesus at Nazareth when he announces the beginning of his ministry in its synagogue, an incident headed for violence, but a violence postponed. They’re ready to hurl him from the hill, and no one takes his part. ( Luke 4:16-36 ) The rejection of Jesus by the people of his own town, his own family and relatives was a sword that pierced her heart.

Mary lived there. What was it like for her?  What was it like to be with family members who thought her son was mad? What was it like to be day after day with people who didn’t believe in her son. No one from Nazareth is among the 12 disciples Jesus chooses. 

We might say Mary’s faith was strong and kept her secure, but does faith know everything? Does it save from questioning?

One thing I notice about the Catholic Church were I live is the many prayer groups devoted to Mary, who focus on her apparitions at Lourdes and Fatima, for example, and say the rosary. They are a blessing and a vital part of our church today.

I wonder, however,  if they could benefit from a deeper acquaintance with the scriptures, especially readings like those for today. They could also benefit from a deeper understanding of the liturgy that year by year, day by day, brings us into the mystery of the death and resurrection of Jesus. 

The scriptures and the liturgy bring us also a deeper understanding of Mary, his mother.  

Act of Contrition

Here’s an abbreviated  version of Psalm 51, a prayer for God’s mercy, that we reflected on in our previous blog.

The illustration for the psalm was done by Brother Robert McKenna, a Passionist brother who died recently. Brother Robert spent many years as a missionary in the Philippines. He was an excellent artist and illustrator.

The hand is the hand of God, of course. That metaphor is applied to God frequently in the bible and especially in the psalms. Here God reaches his hand out to recreate us. His hand is the hand of Mercy, giving us life. He blesses us.

The cross in the illustration is a sign of God’s love for us. Psalm 51 is the original Act of Contrition. A beautiful prayer for Fridays and for all days.

Psalm 51: Have Mercy on Me, O God

Every Friday Psalm 51 is the Church’s morning prayer in the Liturgy of the Hours. “Have mercy on me, O God, in your kindness. In your compassion wipe out my offense.” It’s one of the most important prayers we say.  It’s an appeal to God for mercy, that we might know our sinfulness and that God heal us.

Unfortunately, we become blind to our own sins and see the faults of others rather than our own, St. Augustine says in his commentary on this psalm. There’s evil in life, so if it’s not in us it must be out there in others. 

King David, who is closely associated with this psalm, was quick to see the man the Prophet Nathan described to him as worthy of death. He didn’t see he was the guilty one.

Psalm 51 reminds us we’re sinners and we should know our sins and not forget them. “My offenses truly I know them, and my sin is always before me.” 

Only God can bring us knowledge of our sins, our psalm says. We can’t know ourselves and our sins completely on our own, however honest and thorough we may try to be. Only God brings us knowledge of ourselves. 

Notice there is no list of sins for us to check out in this psalm.  Rather than listing sins, the psalm praises God for a love that restores us to his friendship. “You love truth in the heart, then in the secret of my heart teach me wisdom.”

We ask God to create a pure heart and a steadfast spirit in us, to wash us and sprinkle us with hyssop that we may be clean. St. Augustine says that hyssop is a plant that clings to rocks; it knows hard places, like the human heart. 

We ask for a ‘spirit of joy”, a “spirit of fervor” that God renews us, and a resolve to do what we’re called to do in this life. Like the Prodigal Son this psalm ends in a feast of joy.

Furthermore, our plea for God’s mercy is not just for ourselves . The walls of Jerusalem, the world around us, are waiting to be rebuilt and we’re asking God to rebuild them. Our own conversion contributes to the conversion of our world.

Take a look at the church’s morning and evening prayers here

Our Conversion

“On that journey as I drew near to Damascus,
about noon a great light from the sky suddenly shone around me.
I fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to me,
‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?’
I replied, ‘Who are you, sir?’
And he said to me,
‘I am Jesus the Nazorean whom you are persecuting.’
My companions saw the light
but did not hear the voice of the one who spoke to me.
I asked, ‘What shall I do, sir?’
The Lord answered me, ‘Get up and go into Damascus,
and there you will be told about everything
appointed for you to do.’
Since I could see nothing because of the brightness of that light,
I was led by hand by my companions and entered Damascus.”  Acts 22:8-16

the feast of the Conversion of St. Paul falls on a Sunday this year, so it won’t be celebrated. Still, we have to keep it in mind. If the above account is our only view of conversion we may think conversion is some great light from the sky and a voice from heaven knocking us to the ground. Conversion doesn’t happen ordinarily that way. The longer reading of Paul’s conversion for our feast ( Acts 9: 1-22) describes conversion more fully, I think.

St. Francis de Sales, whose feast we celebrate January 24th, probably describes best how God works to convert us- in ordinary ways. God works with us as he works in creation, day by day, morning and night. The farmer in the parables of Jesus hardly notices or understands what’s happening, and we’re like him. Conversion happens through a life time.

We may also think of conversion as a personal gift – God making us better people. But conversion goes beyond changing us, it’ calls us to change the world beyond us. The Feast of Paul’s conversion is followed by the feast of two of his disciples, Timothy and Titus, who continued Paul’s mission in a new way. They were given charge of the churches of Ephesus and Crete. Paul’s conversion was more than a personal gift. He had a mission to the church and to the world.   

Conversion is not a one time grace. In our antiphons for his feast, Paul himself acknowledges his need for the daily grace of God that strengthens him and helps him meets challenges he never expected. 

Conversion is not limited to people either. Pope John XXIII called for the Second Vatican Council on the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul, January 25, 1959. He saw the council as a converting grace for the church and a contribution to the conversion of the world. 

As an event of conversion, the council is not just a shining moment of a few years, but continual event that gives grace in the years and centuries ahead.  

Finally, notice the place of the sacraments of baptism and the Eucharist in the longer account as he is instructed by Ananias: ” Immediately things like scales fell from his eyes and he regained his sight. He got up and was baptized, and when he had eaten, he recovered his strength.

We receive converting grace through sacraments.

Praying in the Liturgy

The Second Vatican Council strongly affirmed  the liturgy as the primary prayer of the church. Instead of devotional or other prayer forms,  the council affirmed that the liturgy is the primary place where we grow in our faith. (Lex orandi, lex credendi)

Pope Leo recently spoke about the primacy of liturgical and community prayer in his first catechesis on the Second Vatican Council. When we pray in the liturgy “ we do not decide what to hear from the Word of God, but God Himself speaks to us through the Church.”

Affirming the primacy of liturgical prayer doesn’t mean we have to give up devotions or prayer forms that we find helpful. It means we make the the liturgy the main prayer  where God speaks to us, where we face the questions of the day and where we become aware of the signs of the time. 

The liturgy is not as orderly as a course in theology or as simple as devotional prayer might be.  It’s challenging in its complexity. This week, for example, we’re reading from the 1st Book of Samuel, a summary of Jewish history and a work of  narrative theology that poses some tough questions.  We are reading from St. Mark’s Gospel, a sophisticated presentation of the ministry of Jesus Christ, commentators point out. 

This week is also when we pray for Christian unity; we’re asked to pray for and reflect on the unification of the Christian churches.  Thursday is a Day of Prayer for the Legal Protection of Unborn Children. We celebrate the feasts of St. Agnes, St. Francis de Sales and St. Sebastian this week. 

There’s a lot going on in our liturgy. Too much to take in, we might say, and turn to another way of prayer,  or not pray at all.

Liturgy is described as a work.  It’s a work of the church and it can be hard work.

We need the guidance of the Holy Spirt to find the treasure in this field. As Pope Leo says, “we do not decide what to hear from the Word of God, but God himself speaks to us through the Church,”

One of the most important missions of my community, the Passionists, in the church is to be teachers of prayer. “Speak, Lord, your servant is listening.” We are called to teach people how to listen.

This blog tries to do that. 

St. Agnes, January 21st.

Church of St. Agnes, Rome

Church of St. Agnes, Via Nomentana. Rome

Agnes, a popular Roman woman martyr of the 3rd century, ranks high among the seven women mentioned in the First Eucharistic Prayer. “Agnes, Cecilia, Anastasia…”

That prayer goes back to St. Gregory the Great in the 6th century. Some say his mother and aunt may have promoted the women, all strong women who died for their belief. They come from all parts of the church of their time. Felicity and Perpetual are from North Africa, Agatha and Lucy from Sicily, Agnes and Cecilia from Rome, Anastasia originally from Greece.

Details of the story of Agnes, from 5th century sources, may be questioned, but the essential facts about her are true.

St. Agnes, Via Nomentana

A young Roman girl of 13 or so,  Agnes was put to death because she rejected the offer of a highly placed Roman man to become his bride. Incensed, he tried to force Agnes to change her mind; eventually she died for continuing to refuse him.

Women were expected to marry young in those days, to marry men chosen for them, and to have two or three children. They were to produce children for Rome, especially soldiers needed for the empire’s many wars.

Agnes’ refusal then to marry one of Rome’s elite was a dangerous decision. With no support from family or friends, alone in a male-dominated society, at a time suspicious of Christians and their beliefs, the little girl sought strength in Jesus Christ. She was a martyr put to death for her faith.

The Golden Legend, a favorite saint book  from the Middle Ages, says that Agnes was true to her name. She was a lamb (Agnus) who followed the Good Shepherd. Though young, she followed truth, never turning away from it. God gave her strength beyond what’s expected for her years.

The story says they put Agnes among the prostitutes found near the racecourse then on the Piazza Navona in Rome. God warded off those who tried to rape her. A church in her honor stands today in the busy piazza; another church over her grave is on the Via Nomentana in Rome. (above)

They finally killed her with a knife to her throat. Heavenly signs surrounded Agnes even then, her story says, assuring her that her faith was not in vain. The One she loved was with her as she struggled.

 

Agnes, the prayer for her feast says, is an example of how God chooses “what is weak in this world to confound the strong.” The young girl was stronger than her powerful killers.  “May we follow her constancy in the faith, through our Lord Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever. Amen.”

Martyrdom of Agnes