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JESUS IS RISEN!
That means He truly is with us!
April 15, 2012
by: Fr. Ross Syracuse, OFM Conv.
(Pastor of St. Francis, Athol Springs, NY)
Presented on the St. Francis Website as a "Reflection"
This is a true story of something that happened just a few years ago at the University of Southern California:
There was a professor of philosophy there who was a deeply committed atheist. His primary goal for one required class was to spend the entire semester attempting to prove that God couldn't exist. His students were always afraid to argue with him because of his impeccable logic. For twenty years, he had taught this class and no one had ever had the courage to go against him. Sure, some had argued in class at times, but no one had ever really gone against him because of his reputation. At the end of every semester on the last day, he would say to his class of 300 students, "If there is anyone here who still believes in Jesus, stand up!"
In twenty years, no one had ever stood up. They knew what he was going to do next. He would say, "Because anyone who believes in God is a fool. If God existed, he could stop this piece of chalk from hitting the ground and breaking. Such a simple task to prove that He is God, and yet He can't do it." And every year, he would drop the chalk onto the tile floor of the classroom and it would shatter into a hundred pieces. All of the students would do nothing but stop and stare. Most of the students thought that God couldn't exist. Certainly, a number of Christians had slipped through, but for 20 years, they had been too afraid to stand up.
Well, a few years ago there was a freshman who happened to enroll. He was a Christian, and had heard the stories about his professor. He was required to take the class for his major, and he was afraid. But for three months that semester, he prayed every morning that he would have the courage to stand up no matter what the professor said, or what the class thought. Nothing they said could ever shatter his faith–he hoped.
Finally, the day came. The professor said, "If there is anyone here who still believes in God, stand up!" The professor and the class of 300 people looked at him, shocked, as he stood up at the back of the classroom. The professor shouted, "You FOOL!!! If God existed, he would keep this piece of chalk from breaking when it hit the ground!" He proceeded to drop the chalk, but as he did, it slipped out of his fingers, off his shirt cuff, onto the pleat of his pants, down his leg, and off his shoe. As it hit the ground, it simply rolled away unbroken. The professor's jaw dropped as he stared at the chalk. He looked up at the young man, and then left the lecture hall. The young man who had stood, proceeded to walk to the front of the room and shared his faith in Jesus for the next half hour. 300 students stayed and listened as he told of God's love for them and of His power through Jesus.
I’m sure there are those who might take this story and say that it was just freak occurrence; it doesn’t have all the glamor of a scene where the chalk would gently and slowly fall, landing softly on the ground. But isn’t it true that God’s miracles usually happen in ordinary kind of way? That doesn’t make them a lower quality of miracle. And they usually happen when someone stands up like the young man in the lecture hall and simply shares their faith in a simple way–it doesn’t even have to be a perfect faith. God can use whatever we give him; God can do marvelous things with our gifts.
I think what is key here is that as individuals and as a community we have to be more expressive and open about, not only our faith, but also about what is good and positive. I am speaking about the invitation to be less passive. Too often the negative voices over power the positive voices, not because there are more negative voices, but those who are content and happy with the situation are quiet. The same can be said about our faith. We have to be more willing to share our faith, beginning with one another. That’s how we build up our community and that’s how we will be able to share our faith outside of the community with those who are waiting to hear the message of the Gospel, i.e., that God loves us all so very much. This Easter Season, as we celebrate the Resurrection of Jesus in our lives, let it give new life to our faith and our Faith Community–let’s share the gift.
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HOMILY FOR THE FEAST OF ST. PATRICK
March 17, 2012
by: Fr. James McCurry, OFM Conv. (Minister Provincial)
Presented at the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist,
Savannah, GA
I n-ainm an Athar, agus an Mhic, agus an Spioraid Naoimh – With the sign of the Cross, spoken in the Irish language, the late Blessed Pope John Paul II began his celebration of Mass at Phoenix Park, Dublin in 1979 before a million or more Irish worshippers. The Holy Father continued his introduction in Irish: Go raibh an Tiarna libh (“The Lord be with you”), the people responding Agus leat fein (“And also with you”) – all but two, that is, a couple very elderly ladies from our Franciscan parish in the Fairview section of Dublin. Both were a bit hard of hearing, and neither remembered much Irish. One leaned over to the other in exasperation and said: “Glory be to the Trinity, don’t tell me the Pope is saying Mass IN POLISH!”
The papal invocation of the Holy Trinity echoed the chief focus of St. Patrick’s life and mission among the Irish fifteen centuries earlier. From the north to the south, and east to the west of Ireland, most like between the years 432 and 462, St. Patrick found ancient well after well, river after river, lake after lake, to baptize the Celts through the invocation of Trinity. The famous Lorica (“Deer’s Cry”), ascribed to him, begins with the words: “I arise today through a mighty strength, the invocation of Trinity, through belief in the threeness, through confession of the oneness, of the creator of creation.”
One of the most significant sites where Patrick baptized and taught the love of the Triune God was the Rock of Cashel in County Tipperary. Holding the three-leafed shamrock, the missionary bishop used the simplicity of creation to signify the mystery of the Creator. Following the mandate of the Gospel, St. Patrick was impelled by the words of Jesus Christ: “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” (Matthew 28:19) – the most classic Trinitarian text o the New Testament which you heard proclaimed in today’s liturgy. Thus impelled, Patrick would seek out the Celtic kings and chieftains, cleverly reckoning that if he baptized the leaders, their people would follow. So it happened, according to a well-reputed legend, that in 448 at Cashel, Patrick baptized King Angus, the High Lord of Munster. In his exuberance during the ceremony, St. Patrick was gesticulating with his crosier staff with such force that he slammed it to the ground, accidently impaling the poor King’s foot with it. The King did not even wince. Afterwards when Patrick queried him, the King replied that he thought the impaling was part of the baptismal ritual!
St. Patrick wrote a brilliant autobiography – the most important of all the Patrician texts that exist. Entitled Confessio, it ranks among the great spiritual classics of the early Church. Patrick begins in deep self-deprecation: “I am Patrick, a sinner, the most unlearned of men, the lowliest of all the faithful…” Whoever said that the Irish lacked humility?! Having described his harrowing experience of being kidnapped as a teenager and forced into slave labour, he waxes mystic in praise of the Trinity whom his captivity enabled him to contemplate: “We acknowledge and adore him as one God in the Trinity of the holy name.” The Irish are men of the soil, and Patrick would become no exception – finding God in the muck of life. He wrote: “Before I had to suffer I was like a stone lying in the deep mud. Then he who is mighty came and in his mercy he not only pulled me out but lifted me up and placed me at the very top of the wall.”
Focus with me a moment on this image of the stone. Anyone who has traipsed through the fields and country boreens of Ireland will have no difficulty conjuring memories of stone walls and stone ruins, stone crosses and stone cairns. They bespeak the bedrock faith of the Irish sons and daughters of Patrick. Stone by stone, Patrick built up the Church in Ireland, and we are here today as living stones of that ecclesial tradition. The symbol of the rock is a powerfully evocative one in Celtic Christianity. Rocks were associated with the divine and sacred in pre-Christian Celtic spirituality, for which they were symbols of the transcendent. Patrick and his followers converted the pagans by transforming their symbols, whilst giving particular reverence to God in His creation. Rocks became symbols of Christ and the Church. Celtic Christians came to appreciate the fact that Christ was born in a rock (cave), judged on a rock (pavement), scourged on a rock (pillar), died on a rock (Golgotha), buried in a rock (sepulchre), rose from a rock, founded his Church on a rock (Peter), and continues to be present through Mass on a rock (the altar). One can still find the great and humble Mass Rocks of Irish penal days scattered throughout the holy Isle.
Nowhere is the bedrock Celtic Christian tradition from the time of Patrick more evident in Ireland today than at two very rocky penitential sites associated with the saint: Croagh Patrick (the holy mountain of the saint, located in County Mayo – “God help us”!) and Lough Derg (“St. Patrick’s Purgatory”), located in County Donegal – “where they eat the potatoes skins and all.” Actually at Lough Derg no potatoes are eaten, only meager bread. These two places where St. Patrick did penance fifteen hundred years ago are still among the most grueling pilgrimage sites in Christendom today. Many climb the rocky reek of Croagh Patrick barefoot. At Lough Derg the three-day pilgrimage is made barefoot, with no sleep allowed on the first night, only butterless bread and tea or coffee taken for nourishment, and a killing prayer walk around the nine stony circle beds while reciting formulaic prayer. Oh, the Irish are rugged! Mighty!
St. Patrick undertook penance because he knew the people’s pain, having himself suffered the hardship of a swineherd and shepherd. He took seriously the “Voice of the Irish” which knawingly had summoned him back to the land that had enslaved him. He identified with the poor, and mirrored for them the Christ who had Himself fulfilled Isaiah’s prophecy: “He has sent me to bring glad tidings to the lowly, to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and release to the prisoners…” (Is. 61:1).
Through penance, St Patrick, the poor and simple shepherd, understood that his noble Catholic mission would not be possible without supernatural help. Undoubtedly he turned to the Blessed Virgin Mary. When Pope Celestine I sent Patrick to Ireland in 432, to replace the short-lived missionary Palladius, a great historical event had just taken place – the Council of Ephesus in 431. At that Council, the Pope and Bishops gave to Our Lady the title Theotokos – “Mother of God.” Imbued with this revived Marian theology, missionaries like Patrick would rely on Her motherly aid in their Gospel work. It is no surprise that Our Lady’s most popular title in Ireland down through the ages has remained simply Mathair De – “Mother of God.” Similarly, the most popular devotional prayer among the Irish is the Rosary – a string of fifty small stones on each of which the Mother of God is invoked: Se do bheatha, a Mhuire… A Naomh Mhuire, a Mhathair De. The great Irish preacher of modern times, and a dear friend of mine, the Servant of God Father Patrick Peyton, never ceased to promote the rosary as a dynamic for family prayer: “The family that prays together stays together.”
Not far from Fr. Peyton’s birthplace in County Mayo (God help us) is the most important Marian Shrine in Ireland, Knock. Pope John Paul II visited there to commemorate the centenary of Our Lady’s apparition to fifteen villagers, all sheep farmers. There through the intercession of the Mother of God, the Holy Father likewise invoked the Holy Trinity I n-ainm an Athar, agus an Mhic, agus an Spioraid Naoimh. At the site of his Mass, a thirty-foot stone celtic cross now stands, with the inscription “in grateful remembrance of the greatest event in Irish history since the coming of Saint Patrick. The Irish, unlike the English, are not given to understatement.
Let me conclude. Thank you, dear Bishop Gregory Hartmayer, for inviting me to preach today’s homily. You and I have been Franciscan brothers and friends for over forty years. May the spirit of St. Patrick enflame your ministry in the Savannah diocese, as indeed he animated that of your predecessors, most recently the beloved Bishop-Emeritus of Savannah Kevin Boland!
A parting thought: While leading a group of pilgrims through the Shrine of Our Lady of Knock some years ago, I chanced to meet an elderly woman holding the hand of a small child. The little girl must have been about four. I started to speak with the child: “Do you go to school yet?” The child replied: “I don’t.” I continued: “When will you begin school?” She answered: “Next year, if God spares me!” I looked at the old woman and said, “I think she spends a lot of time with her Granny.” “Indeed she does,” said the Granny, clueless as to why I was grinning from ear to ear. The more I thought about the comment of the child, however, the more I saw great wisdom in her words. Indeed, whether we are four or forty or four score, none of us know how much longer our lives will be spared in this world. So, there is an urgency to do today that which we might not be able to do tomorrow. That was St. Patrick’s approach to the Gospel mission. The love of God urged him onwards. May that same love urge us onwards I n-ainm an Athar, agus an Mhic, agus an Spioraid Naoimh. Amen.
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HOMILY FOR THE FEAST OF SAINT FRANCIS
October 3, 2011
By Fr. Vincent Gluc OFM Conv (Vocations Director)
Presented to the young men of Archbishop Curley High School
St. Francis was a typical youth of his day. He was caught up in partying, hanging out with friends, and he had a difficult relationship with his father ... sound familiar?
St. Francis liked having center stage, standing out among his friends and had the normal dreams of his day, of being a knight in shining armor. He thought he had his life all figured out, until he went out to war and came home ill and disillusioned with the reality of war. Not sure what to do with his life, St. Francis entered the abandoned Church of San Damiano where he encountered Jesus on the Cross and heard the call to rebuild the Church.
In many ways, I’m sure your life is similar to St. Francis in those early years: tension at home with your parents at times, your desire to be noticed, appreciated, and loved by your friends...especially the girls....and living with the difficult balance of wanting to be more independent from your parents and yet, at the same time, your need and desire for their love and support.
Teens in every age manage to find ways to express themselves and to declare their uniqueness or need to fit in. Today, it seems tattoos and body piercing are the way to go and in many ways...it’s pretty symbolic. What the tattoo or the body ornament might look like and what part of the body it’s attached to says a lot about what’s important to us or what might be going on in our lives.
A number of weeks ago I attended a varsity football scrimmage. One of the players was on the sideline cooling down and I noticed a tattoo...it was a detailed picture of a tree in the middle of his back. He explained that in his freshmen year he had a serious snowboarding accident and was out of school for a long time.
It resulted in a lot of pain and probably a couple of surgeries...or at least a body cast for a period of time. The tree on his back represented the healing and new life he experienced. The fact that he’s back on the football team, or maybe even walking again, is probably something of a miracle. The tattoo stands as a permanent reminder of overcoming a huge hurdle in his life.
St. Francis wasn’t into tattoos, but he was into a bit of drama. He returned his fancy clothes and possessions to his father in the public square and put on a servant’s robe, a sign of his service to the Church and his commitment to the poor in his new way of life.
Toward the end of his life, St. Francis was marked with the wounds of the crucified Jesus, in his hands, feet and side. Unlike a tattoo, these were real wounds, causing him pain and blood in every step and each time he extended his hand to help a leper or someone in need. St. Francis became, in a sense, a living tattoo, an image or icon of the suffering and yet, transformed and risen Christ to our world.
St. Paul, in his letter to the Galatians, speaks of bearing the brand marks of Jesus on his body. He wasn’t talking about the stigmata or a tattoo, he was referring to the scars and wounds on his body from the scourging and beatings he endured in prison because he preached the Gospel of Jesus.
St. Paul saw each scar, each disfigurement, and each aching bone, as a brand mark of Jesus in his body. He wore them like badge of honor.... out of love for Christ.
As disciples of Jesus, as baptized Christians, we are all called to image Jesus to our world. We were marked with the tree of life, the cross of Jesus, traced on our foreheads at the moment of our baptism.
As a result, as St. Paul would say, we are called to bear all things and endure all things for Christ. Like St. Francis, we are called to reach out to those who are hurting and to those who find themselves most alone.
From its very beginning, Curley has been a Franciscan school. For the past 50 years the friars and lay teachers have ministered mainly to young men from poor and blue collar families. We are not a Loyola....we are not a Calvert Hall, and we would never want to be. Curley bears its own brand mark.
Looking over some yearbooks the other week with a Senior, who was frantically searching to find Gene Hoffman’s freshman picture, we noted how Curley has become more diverse. Not only in ethnic backgrounds but also in the various faith traditions and economic situations of our students.
As we celebrate this St. Francis Day....I like to think that Curley represents the spirit of St. Francis and what he was all about. To me Curley is an image of brotherhood for Baltimore and the world. For it’s here that Black, White, Asian, Latino... Muslim, Christian, Jewish and Atheist...can walk shoulder to shoulder....and be brothers to one another.
Like the leper Francis embraced, this body of Curley men is in no way perfect. We have our moments when ignorance, prejudice and intolerance raise its ugly head. When that happens, the wounds of Christ are painfully opened again, in the lives of the victims in such situations.
But when push comes to shove, Curley men are a team, both on and off the field. Curley is truly a place where brotherhood begins. A brotherhood inspired by the man we honor today as St. Francis.
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Visit these links for more inspirational words from our friars.
Auschwitz Appeal for Peace: . Audio
Link
 The 70th anniversary of Franciscan Saint
Maximilian Kolbe's ultimate sacrifice, his life given for another, was
remembered August 14, 2011 as our Provincial, Very Reverend Fr. James
McCurry, OFM Conv., traveled to Poland to concelebrate Mass along side
cardinals, bishops, priests and other friars, at the former Nazi Concentration
and Extermination Camp Auschwitz.
The Liturgy, held near the cell in Block 11,
where Fr. Kolbe died, was attended by over 3000 pilgrims, including former
Auschwitz inmates
Daily Reflections:
Fr. Jude Winker Podcast
Weekly Reflections:
Franciscan Weekly Podcast
Fr. Donald Grzymski's Weekly Video Message
Fr. Timothy Kulbicki, OFM Conv. presents*:
"St. Anthony of Padua Province History in Context"
*PowerPoint or Alternative Program required for viewing
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