Blessed Junipero Serra

Almighty God, who willest to be glorified in thy saints, and didst raise up thy servant Blessed Junipero Serra to be a light in the world: Shine, we pray thee, in our hearts, that we also in our generation may show forth thy praise, who hast called us out of darkness into thy marvelous light; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Excerpted from Saint of the Day, Leonard Foley, O.F.M.:

In 1776, when the American revolution was beginning in the east, another part of the future United States was being born in California. That year a gray-robed Franciscan founded Mission San Juan Capistrano, now famous for its annually returning swallows. San Juan was the seventh of nine missions established under the direction of this indomitable Spaniard. Born on Spain's island of Mallorca, Serra entered the Franciscan Order, taking the name of Saint Francis' childlike companion, Brother Juniper. Until he was thirty-five, he spent most of his time in the classroom-first as a student of theology and then as a professor. He also became famous for his preaching. Suddenly he gave it all up and followed the yearning that had begun years before when he heard about the missionary work of Saint Francis Solanus in South America. Junipero's desire was to convert native peoples in the New World.

Arriving by ship at Vera Cruz, Mexico, he and a companion walked the 250 miles to Mexico City. On the way Junipero's left leg became infected by an insect bite and would remain a cross, often life-threatening, the rest of his life. For eighteen years he worked in central Mexico and in the Baja Peninsula. He became president of the missions there.

Enter politics: the threat of a Russian invasion south from Alaska. Charles III of Spain ordered an expedition to beat Russia to the territory. So the last two conquistadores-one military, one spiritual-began their quest. Jose de Galvez persuaded Junipero to set out with him for present-day Monterey, California. The first mission founded after the nine-hundred-mile journey north was San Diego (1769). That year a shortage of food almost canceled the expedition. Vowing to stay with the local people, Junipero and another friar began a novena in preparation for Saint Joseph's day, March 19, the scheduled day of departure. On that day, the relief ship arrived.

Other missions followed: Monterey/Carmel (1770); San Antonio and San Gabriel (1771); San Luis Obispo (1772); San Francisco and San Juan Capistrano (1776); Santa Clara (1777); San Buenaventura (1782). Twelve more were founded after Serra's death.

Junipero made the long trip to Mexico City to settle great differences with the military commander. He arrived at the point of death. The outcome was substantially what Junipero sought: the famous "Regulation" protecting the Indians and the missions. It was the basis for the first significant legislation in California, a "Bill of Rights" for Native Americans.

Because the Native Americans were living a nonhuman life from the Spanish point of view, the friars were made their legal guardians. The Native Americans were kept at the mission after Baptism lest they be corrupted in their former haunts — a move that has brought cries of "injustice" from some moderns.

Junipero's missionary life was a long battle with cold and hunger, with unsympathetic military commanders and even with danger of death from non-Christian native peoples. Through it all his unquenchable zeal was fed by prayer each night, often from midnight until dawn. He baptized over six thousand people and confirmed five thousand. His travels would have circled the globe. He brought the Native Americans not only the gift of faith but also a decent standard of living. He won their love, as witnessed especially by their grief at his death. He is buried at Mission San Carlo Borromeo, Carmel, and was beatified in 1988.

Asking the intercession of Blessed Junipero Serra for vocations to the Sacred Ministry of the Church:

O God, who didst lead thy holy apostles to lay hands upon men to serve thee as Sacred Ministers in thy Church: Grant that, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit and through the intercession of Blessed Junipero Serra, the Church may choose men wisely and in accordance with thy Will for the ministry of Word and Sacrament, and may uphold them in their work for the extension of thy kingdom; through Him who is the Shepherd and Bishop of our souls, Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee in the unity of the Holy Ghost ever, one God, world without end. Amen.

The Holy Martyrs of Rome

“It was through envy and jealousy that the greatest and most upright pillars of the Church were persecuted and struggled unto death.... First of all, Peter, who because of unreasonable jealousy suffered not merely once or twice but many times, and, having thus given his witness, went to the place of glory that he deserved. It was through jealousy and conflict that Paul showed the way to the prize for perseverance. He was put in chains seven times, sent into exile, and stoned; a herald both in the east and the west, he achieved a noble fame by his faith....  Around these men with their holy lives there are gathered a great throng of the elect, who, though victims of jealousy, gave us the finest example of endurance in the midst of many indignities and tortures. Through jealousy women were tormented, like Dirce or the daughters of Danaus, suffering terrible and unholy acts of violence. But they courageously finished the course of faith and despite their bodily weakness won a noble prize.”

- Pope St. Clement

Almighty and everlasting God, who didst enkindle the flame of thy love in the hearts of the holy martyrs of Rome: Grant to us, thy humble servants, a like faith and power of love, that we who rejoice in their triumph may profit by their example; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

The Widow's Mite

"The Widow's Mite" by James Tissot

[Jesus] looked up and saw the rich putting their gifts into the treasury; and he saw a poor widow put in two copper coins. And he said, "Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all of them; for they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty put in all the living that she had."

-St. Luke 21:1-4

We know exactly where Jesus was when he said this. In the Temple there were the various Courts – the Court of the Gentiles, the Court of the Women, the Court of the Israelites, the Court of the Priests, all gathered around the Holy of Holies. A person would go through these various Courts to get to the next one, as far as he was allowed. In this particular passage, Jesus was speaking in the Court of the Women. Men could be there, but women could go no further. Located there were thirteen collecting boxes known as the Trumpets. They were shaped like trumpets with the narrow part at the top and the wider part at the foot. Each one was assigned to offerings for a different purpose - for the wood that was used to burn the sacrifice, for the incense that was burned on the altar, for the upkeep of the golden vessels, and so on. It was near these Trumpets that Jesus was sitting.

He looked up and saw several people putting their offerings into the Trumpets, including a poor widow. All she had in the world was two “lepta.” A lepton was the smallest of all coins; the name means "the thin one." It was worth only a fraction of a penny, but Jesus said that it far out-valued all the other offerings, because it was everything she had.

He was calling attention to some important points. When it comes to a gift, there’s the spirit in which it’s given. A gift which is given unwillingly, a gift which is given with a grudge, a gift given for the sake of prestige or of self-display loses a lot of its value. The only real gift is that which is the outflow of the loving heart, something given because the giver cannot help it.

And there’s the sacrifice which the gift involves. Something which is virtually nothing to one person may be a huge amount to somebody else. That day in the Temple, the gifts of the rich, as they flung their offerings into the Trumpets, didn’t really cost them very much; but the two lepta of the widow cost her everything she had. The rich had probably calculated how much they could afford; she gave with a kind of reckless generosity which could give no more.

Giving does not begin to be real giving until it hurts. A gift shows our love only when we have had to do without something or have had to work doubly hard in order to give it. This was the point Christ was making.

The Holy Apostles Ss. Peter & Paul

Ss. Peter and Paul by Bartolomeo Vivarini

"Both apostles share the same feast day, for these two were one; And even though they suffered on different days, they were as one. Peter went first, and Paul followed. And so we celebrate this day made holy for us by the apostles' blood. Let us embrace what they believed, their life, their labors, their sufferings, their preaching, and their confession of faith."

St. Augustine of Hippo, Sermon 295

Almighty God, whose blessed apostles Ss. Peter and Paul glorified thee by their martyrdom: Grant that thy Church, instructed by their teaching and example, and knit together in unity by thy Spirit, may ever stand firm upon the one foundation, which is Jesus Christ our Lord; who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the same Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Basilica of St. Peter, Vatican City State

Basilica of St. Paul Outside the Walls, Rome

O God, who by the preaching of thy holy apostles Ss. Peter and Paul didst cause the light of thy gospel to shine upon the nations: Grant, we beseech thee, that we, having their life and labour in remembrance, may show forth our thankfulness to thee for so great a gift, by following the example of their zeal and service; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Immaculate Heart of Mary

"Immaculate Heart of Mary"
Oil on canvas, at the lectern,
Our Lady of the Atonement Church.

Following upon the Solemnity of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, is the commemoration of the Immaculate Heart of Mary.  Here is a prayer for consecrating ourselves to her motherly heart.

O Mary, Virgin most powerful and Mother of mercy, Queen of Heaven and Refuge of sinners; we consecrate ourselves to thy Immaculate Heart. We consecrate to thee our very being and our whole life: all that we have, all that we love, all that we are. To thee we give our bodies, our hearts, and our souls; to thee we give our homes, our families, and our country. We desire that all that is in us and around us may belong to thee, and may share in the benefits of thy motherly blessing. And that this act of consecration may be truly fruitful and lasting, we renew this day at thy feet the promises of our Baptism and our First Holy Communion.

We pledge ourselves to profess courageously and at all times the truths of our holy Faith, and to live as befits Catholics, who are submissive to all directions of the Pope and the Bishops in communion with him. We pledge ourselves to keep the commandments of God and of His Church, in particular to keep holy the Lord’s Day. We pledge ourselves to make the consoling practices of the Christian religion, and above all, Holy Communion, an important part of our lives, in so far as we are able to do.

Finally, we promise thee, O glorious Mother of God and loving Mother of men, to devote ourselves wholeheartedly to the spreading of devotion to thy Immaculate Heart, in order to hasten and assure, through thy queenly rule, the coming of the Kingdom of the Sacred Heart of thine adorable Son Jesus Christ, in our own country, and in all the world; as in Heaven, so on earth. Amen.

The Most Sacred Heart of Jesus

The Chapel of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus
Our Lady of the Atonement Church
San Antonio, Texas

O God, who hast suffered the Heart of thy Son to be wounded by our sins, and in that very heart hast bestowed on us the abundant riches of thy love: Grant that the devout homage of our hearts, which we render unto Him; may by thy mercy be deemed a recompense, acceptable in thy sight; through the same Jesus Christ thy Son, our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Ghost, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

O Sacred Heart,

our home lies deep in thee;

on earth thou art an exile’s rest,

in heav’n the glory of the blest,

O Sacred Heart.

O Sacred Heart,

thou fount of contrite tears:

where’er those living waters flow,

new life to sinners they bestow,

O Sacred Heart.

O Sacred Heart,

our trust is all in thee,

for though earth’s night be dark and drear,

thou breathest rest where thou art near,

O Sacred Heart.

O Sacred Heart,

when shades of death shall fall,

receive us ‘neath thy gentle care,

and save us from the tempter’s snare,

O Sacred Heart.

O Sacred Heart,

lead exiled children home,

where we may ever rest near thee,

in peace and joy eternally,

O Sacred Heart.

Words from an overflowing heart...

It is my privilege to have formed a friendship over the past several years with a remarkable and devout man, David Moyer, a long-time Episcopal priest, who then served as an Anglican bishop during the days when a "faithful remnant" showed great courage in attempting to salvage some semblance of catholicity in Anglicanism.  Although that particular effort was not successful in its immediate goal, there was a deep spirituality among many of the groups which were formed under the leadership of dedicated clergy.  A great many of these clerics have found their way into the Ordinariate, very often with their groups intact; in other cases, certain clergy were not called by the Church to Catholic ordination, but as faithful shepherds they have brought their people to Rome and are being received themselves as laymen.  David Moyer is one such leader.

It is my personal opinion that he has a vocation to Catholic priesthood; however, my opinion counts for nothing because it is the Church which issues the call.  I pray for him daily, however, that if God has indeed given him a vocation, eventually it will be recognized.

This past Sunday, the Solemnity of Corpus Christi, marked the last day David would serve as pastor to his people.  He had brought them to the very door of the Church, and now the community of Blessed John Henry Newman will be received into the full communion of the Church, as will David and his wife Rita.

During his Anglican ministry David was known as an excellent preacher, and for good reason.  He is eloquent and learned, but above all he is a man of great faith, and it shines through in his words.  The following is the text of his last sermon to his people, and I found it to be simply beautiful.

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Feast of Corpus Christi, 22 June, 2014

+In the Name…

Jesus said: “For my flesh is food indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him” (St. John 6:55-56).

The full liturgical and Choir season began for us on the Solemnity of the Feast of the Holy Cross in September. This season ends today as we celebrate the Feast of Corpus Christi, or as it is named in the Catholic Church: “The Feast of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ.”

We began the full liturgical and Choir season with our joy in the Cross of Christ for the world’s salvation. We end with our joy for the gift of Christ’s Body and Blood in the Eucharist for us to partake as sacramental food for life’s journey to have Christ within us, for us to take Christ and be Christ to the world.

You know that the word Eucharist (eucharistia in Greek) means “Thanksgiving.” The Eucharist, the Mass, is the chief and fundamental offering of the Church and her people to God in thanksgiving for God the Father’s gift of His Son to be the Savior and Redeemer of the world.

The Eucharist is primarily a corporate act of thanksgiving to God, and secondly a feeding for us with the food we need,so that Christ abides in us, and we in Him.

I remember when I was a Junior in seminary (the designation for a first year student) that I once was about to enter the seminary’s chapel for Mass, but as I began to enter the chapel doors, I decided that I was not in a mood of thanksgiving because of something (I forget what) that was going on in my life, so I turned around and returned to the seminary apartment where Rita and I lived.

In spiritual hindsight, I had done the wrong thing because I hadn’t appropriated the fact that the Eucharist is about our “It is very meet, right, and our bounden duty, that we should at all times, and in all places [physical place and emotional place]give thanks unto thee, O Lord, holy Father, almighty, everlasting God.”

I wasn’t in a place of being thankful for what I was dealing with, but that was a lame excuse for not going to Mass. And beyond that is something more; something that has been ringing in my ears, churning in my mind, and stirring inmy soul in recent times; and that is what St. Paul wrote, which I have put before you many times recently.

St. Paul wrote to the Church in Thessalonica: “Rejoice always, pray constantly, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you” (5:16-18).

All of us struggle at times to know and discern what the will of God is for us. Here, St. Paul, who experienced a total change of life, belief, and conduct on the Road to Damascus when Jesus spoke to him, who was accepted by the chosen Apostles of Jesus as a fellow Apostle, tells us what the will of God in Christ Jesus IS for us. We are to “rejoice always, pray constantly, and give thanks in all circumstances.”

Now I’ll be the first to say that this is a tall order, but, again, it is the will of God in Christ Jesus for us; which means that we are not to dismiss it, but strive to do it!

I’ll also be the first to say that rejoicing always and giving thanks in all circumstances may seem at times like lunacy and mental instability. Does a mother naturally rejoice and give thanks with a miscarriage or a stillbirth? Does a man rejoice and give thanks when he is told that he has colon cancer that has spread throughout his body? Did the Jewish mother in Auschwitz rejoice and give thanks when her son was ripped from her arms and to be thrown into an oven?

Less traumatically, a student fails a critical test that has a critical effect on his future aspiration. A plane is delayed on the airport’s tarmac, and the parents miss the college graduation of their daughter who was her class’s valedictorian. A young woman who is very much in love with a man has the engagement broken by the man because he declares that he is being drawn to another woman he met at work. Do such people naturally rejoice and give thanks? No, they don’t.

Things happen to us – some of own doing, and some because of the doing of others. Such is life; such is our sinfulness; and such is the sinfulness of others. Our task is not to fall into the place of victimization. We are to repent of our sins; seek reconciliation with others; and forgive others – seventy times seven, and not fall into the trap of thinking that God is small, but rather that he is great, and that He knows our circumstances and situations, and that with His love and mercy, He is there to help as we live in a fallen world, in which many times we are discouraged, confused, and frustrated; but, again, God knows our feelings, but we are to tell Him what we feel.

I have thought much of Moses in recent times. He was excluded from leading the people and from even going into the Promised Land because of an act of disobedience. In the Book of Exodus, we hear that at one point God commands Moses to bring water of a rock for the disgruntled Israelites to drink. He was commanded by God to strike the rock with his rod. This was at Horeb. In the Book of Numbers, there is a second situation when the Israelites are crying for water, and are mad at Moses and Aaron for bringing them to a waterless place, Kadesh –barnea. God commands Moses to speak to the rock in order for it to produce water. But Moses struck the rock, not once but twice. For this act of disobedience, Moses was not permitted to lead the people into the Promised Land, nor go there himself. He would only be able to look at it from a distance before he died.

I’m no Moses, but I have been disobedient to God in different ways and at different times. I also have striven to be obedient, and did what I felt needed to be done. Hindsight is 20/20, and growth in spiritual wisdom is a life-long enterprise. I have been kept from leading you as a priest into the Catholic Church (in the sense of taking you across the Tiber), but unlike Moses I will be going with you into the Catholic Church as one of you. Praise God!

What God’s will in Christ Jesus is for us is that we rejoice and give thanks that God is with us in all circumstances; that we are never alone; that His comfort and strength is there for us; that no matter how hard, heinous, tragic, dark, life-shattering, life-altering, difficult, unexpected, and troublesome things are, God is there with us.

The Psalmist says: “If I climb up into heaven, thou art there; if I go down to hell, thou are there also” (Psalm 139:7).

And He redeems all things that we give Him that need to be redeemed. In the Book of Revelation, Jesus says, “Behold, I make all things new” (21:5).

God is omniscient (all-knowing), omnipotent (all-powerful), and omnipresent (present always and everywhere). And as St. Paul wrote to the Church in Rome: “For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things preset, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (8:37-39). And this is the St. Paul who with his missionary partner, Silas, prayed and sang while in prison in Philippi to the extent that the prison doors were miraculously opened and “every one’s fetters were unfastened (Acts 16:25-26).

Not to rejoice always and give thanks in all circumstances is to forsake God whose will it is that we know ourselves not to be forsaken. We are to pray constantly so that the pipeline of grace and guidance is open, and knowing that He is ever-present with love and mercy in abundance; and as we constantly pray, which the Oxford theologian Dr. John Macquarie called “spiritual thinking,” we remember yet another thing that St. Paul stated:  “We know that in everything God works for good with those who love him, who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).

So, on this day of great thanksgiving for the Eucharist, which as the Catechism of the Catholic Church states is “the source and summit  of the Christian life,” and a new chapter  has begun for this Fellowship under the patronage of Blessed John Henry Newman, and as I celebrate my final Mass as an Anglican priest and bishop, let us give thanks above all else for the love of God, and for our calling to be open and  humble servants of Christ for Christ, not for ourselves, as dependent children who do trust in the Providence of God, who in His Son, Christ Jesus said, “I am the Alpha  and the Omega, the beginning and the end” (Revelation 21:6).

Changing gears to end this sermon, from scripture to a wonderful and classic book and movie, the Wizard of Oz said to the Tin Man, “A heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others.” I know very deeply your love for me, and I pray that you know deeply my love for you.

God bless you, and may Our Lady and Blessed John Henry Newman pray for us.

+In the Name…

The Nativity of St. John the Baptist

Almighty God, by whose providence thy servant St. John the Baptist was wonderfully born, and sent to prepare the way of thy Son our Saviour by preaching repentance: Make us so to follow his doctrine and holy life, that we may truly repent according to his preaching; and after his example constantly speak the truth, boldly rebuke vice, and patiently suffer for the truth’s sake; through the same thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Adoring the Lord: Corpus Christi

At the Shrine Altar.

Returning to the High Altar.

Ss. Hilda, Etheldreda, and Mildred and All Holy Nuns

The parishes and communities celebrating the Anglican Use liturgy were given permission to celebrate certain saints not found on the universal calendar of the Catholic Church.  One of the days set apart for this is June 23rd, when we keep the feast day of Ss. Hilda, Etheldreda, Mildred and All Holy Nuns.  I've linked information to the names of these three amazing women, each of whom had great influence on the Church in Britain.  The phrase "All Holy Nuns" includes all the great Religious women throughout the British Isles, known and unknown, who have given witness to Christ.

St. Hilda of Whitby

St. Etheldreda

St. Mildred

St. John Fisher & St. Thomas More

Two great heroes of the English Church, forever linked together, are St. John Fisher (1469-1535) and St. Thomas More(1478-1535). Standing for the apostolic dignity of the Church as against secular attempts to undermine its rightful authority, these two shed their blood for their consciences' sake, out of love for Jesus Christ.

We are fortunate to have a lengthy description of St. Thomas More, written by his good friend Erasmus, in letter dated 1519:

You ask me to paint you a full-length portrait of More as in a picture. Would that I could do it as perfectly as you eagerly desire it. At least I will try to give a sketch of the man, as well as from my long familiarity with him I have either observed or can now recall. To begin, then, with what is least known to you, in stature he is not tall, though not remarkably short. His limbs are formed with such perfect symmetry as to leave nothing to be desired. His complexion is white, his face fair rather than pale, and though by no means ruddy, a faint flush of pink appears beneath the whiteness of his skin. His hair is dark brown, or brownish black. The eyes are grayish The eyes are grayish blue, with some spots, a kind which betokens singular talent, and among the English is considered attractive, whereas Germans generally prefer black. It is said that none are so free from vice.

His countenance is in harmony with his character, being always expressive of an amiable joyousness, and even an incipient laughter, and, to speak candidly, it is better framed for gladness than for gravity and dignity, though without any approach to folly or buffoonery. The right shoulder is a little higher than the left, especially when he walks. This is not a defect of birth, but the result of habit, such as we often contract. In the rest of his person there is nothing to offend. His hands are the least refined part of his body.

He was from his boyhood always most careless about whatever concerned his body. His youthful beauty may be guessed from what still remains, though I knew him when be was not more than three-and-twenty. Even now he is not much over forty. He has good health, though not robust; able to endure all honourable toil, and subject to very few diseases. He seems to promise a long life, as his father still survives in a wonderfully green old age.

I never saw anyone so indifferent about food. Until he was a young man he delighted in drinking water, but that was natural to him (id illi patrium fuit). Yet not to seem singular or morose, he would hide his temperance from his guests by drinking out of a pewter vessel beer almost as light as water, or often pure water. It is the custom in England to pledge each other in drinking wine. In doing so he will merely touch it with his lips, not to seem to dislike it, or to fall in with the custom. He likes to eat corned beef and coarse bread much leavened, rather than what most people count delicacies. Otherwise he has no aversion to what gives harmless pleasure to the body. He prefers milk diet and fruits, and is especially fond of eggs.

His voice is neither loud nor very weak, but penetrating; not resounding or soft, but that of a clear speaker. Though he delights in every kind of music he has no vocal talents. He speaks with great clearness and perfect articulation, without rapidity or hesitation. He likes a simple dress, using neither silk nor purple nor gold chain, except when it may not be omitted. It is wonderful how negligent he is as regards all the ceremonious forms in which most men make politeness to consist. He does not require them from others, nor is he anxious to use them himself, at interviews or banquets, though he is not unacquainted with them when necessary. But he thinks it unmanly to spend much time in such trifles. Formerly he was most averse to the frequentation of the court, for he has a great hatred of constraint (tyrannis) and loves equality. Not without much trouble he was drawn into the court of Henry VIII., though nothing more gentle and modest than that prince can be desired. By nature More is chary of his liberty and of ease, yet, though he enjoys ease, no one is more alert or patient when duty requires it.

He seems born and framed for friendship, and is a most faithful and enduring friend. He is easy of access to all; but if he chances to get familiar with one whose vices admit no correction, he manages to loosen and let go the intimacy rather than to break it off suddenly. When he finds any sincere and according to his heart, he so delights in their society and conversation as to place in it the principal charm of life. He abhors games of tennis, dice, cards, and the like, by which most gentlemen kill time. Though he is rather too negligent of his own interests, no one is more diligent in those of his friends. In a word, if you want a perfect model of friendship, you will find it in no one better than in More. In society he is so polite, so sweet-mannered, that no one is of so melancholy a disposition as not to be cheered by him, and there is no misfortune that he does not alleviate. Since his boyhood he has so delighted in merriment, that it seems to be part of his nature; yet he does not carry it to buffoonery, nor did he ever like biting pleasantries. When a youth he both wrote and acted some small comedies. If a retort is made against himself, even without ground, he likes it from the pleasure he finds in witty repartees. Hence he amused himself with composing epigrams when a young man, and enjoyed Lucian above all writers. Indeed, it was he who pushed me to write the "Praise of Folly," that is to say, he made a camel frisk.

In human affairs there is nothing from which he does not extract enjoyment, even from things that are most serious. If he converses with the learned and judicious, he delights in their talent; if with the ignorant and foolish, he enjoys their stupidity. He is not even offended by professional jesters. With a wonderful dexterity he accommodates himself to every disposition. As a rule, in talking with women, even with his own wife, he is full of jokes and banter.

No one is less led by the opinions of the crowd, yet no one departs less from common sense. One of his great delights is to consider the forms, the habits, and the instincts of different kinds of animals. There is hardly a species of bird that he does not keep in his house, and rare animals such as monkeys, foxes, ferrets, weasels and the like. If he meets with anything foreign, or in any way remarkable, he eagerly buys it, so that his house is full of such things, and at every turn they attract the eye of visitors, and his own pleasure is renewed whenever he sees others pleased.

There is no similar description of the godly bishop, St. John Fisher; however, in his correspondence, St. Thomas More wrote these words about him:

"I reckon in this realm no one man, in wisdom, learning, and long approved virtue together, meet to be matched and compared with him."

O God, who didst raise up amongst the English people thy blessed Martyrs St. John Fisher and St. Thomas More in defense of the faith and in witness to the dignity of Apostolic Authority: grant by their merits and prayers; that in the profession of one faith we may all be made one in Christ, and in Him continue to be at one with one another. Through the same Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee in the unity of the Holy Ghost, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

Processing to the outdoor shrine...

On the Solemnity of Corpus Christi our procession of the Blessed Sacrament takes us to an outdoor altar, which marks an important place on our church grounds – the site of the “Finding of the Crucifix,” and also the spot where the first Mass was celebrated on the property.

After the parish was canonically erected on 15 August 1983, I began to search for a permanent location for us to worship and to grow from our original eighteen people. We were, at that time, meeting at San Francesco di Paola Church, in downtown San Antonio. It was a lovely little place, built by Italian immigrants, but the location was ill-suited for us. Everyone had to travel quite a distance, and it was difficult to build up a parish life in a place which was fairly remote for all of us. So I began to look for some land.

It seemed to me that the future growth of San Antonio would be taking place on the northwest side of the city. Everything pointed to it, and that has indeed come to pass. The archdiocese had (several years before) purchased a small plot of land for the possibility that a territorial parish might be needed. When I inquired about locating our parish there, the answer was, “Yes, that would be fine. There’s not much happening out there anyway, and we probably won’t need it for a territorial parish.” The short-sightedness of that statement aside, it worked out well for us. To get the property, we were required to pay a rather hefty sum to the archdiocese, which eventually we did.

I knew this was the spot. I had visited it before making the request. I had to crawl through the underbrush, literally on my belly, to make any kind of exploration. I had a small medal of Our Lady of the Atonement with me, and I buried it in the earth as I was making my slow process through the woods and brush, claiming it for our Lady and her parish. Shortly after burying the medal, I came into a small clearing, allowing me to stand up. With the thick undergrowth surrounding me, I saw in the middle of the clearing a wooden cross stuck into the ground, and fastened to the rough cross was a small crucifix.  I took it as a sign. This was the place. This was where our Lord and His Blessed Mother wanted us to be. But I need to tell you why such a sign was necessary.

At the same time as I had requested the possibility of our getting the land, some Dominican priests had approached the archbishop about staffing a chaplaincy for the University of Texas, which is a short distance away. Even though we had asked first, the archbishop thought perhaps a better use for the land would be to give it to the Dominicans. I told the archbishop, “You can’t! I’ve already claimed it for Our Lady of the Atonement.” He expressed his regret, but told me his mind was set. I warned him that we’d begin praying. And so we did.

For nine evenings we gathered to pray the Novena to the Holy Ghost. By the fourth evening, the archbishop contacted me. “I don’t know what kind of prayer you’ve been saying,” he said, “but the situation with the Dominicans has fallen through. You can build there.” We finished the novena as an act of thanksgiving. We were intensely grateful to God, but not surprised at what He had done. Mind you, I have nothing against the Dominicans, but the Blessed Mother had other plans for the land.

I saved that little crucifix. We built a simple wooden shrine to Our Lady of the Atonement on the property where the crucifix had been found, and fastened it onto the peak of the shrine’s roof. In time we made plans to celebrate a Mass there, and to break ground for the church.

Today there stands a beautiful shrine, a copy of the original wooden one, but now in stone. Within the altar is the simple wood altar which stood there originally, now protected by a permanent stone altar. And the little crucifix is there. It’s mounted in the place where the tabernacle would normally be, if this were an indoor altar.

So it reminds us of our beginnings, and of how God guided and protected us as new converts to the Catholic faith. Every year on the Solemnity of Corpus Christi we bring our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament to this spot, in thanksgiving for all His blessings.

The original wooden Shrine.

The Shrine today.

St. Aloysius Gonzaga

The time and place where Aloysius Gonzaga grew up - 16th-century Italy - was not very different from 21st century America. It was a lax, morally careless, self-indulgent age. Aloysius saw the decadence around him and vowed not to be part of it. He did not, however, become a kill-joy. Like any teenage boy, he wanted to have a good time, and as a member of an aristocratic family he had plenty of opportunities for amusement. He enjoyed horse races, banquets and the elaborate parties held in palace gardens. But if Aloysius found himself at a social function that took a turn to the lascivious, he left.

Aloysius did not just want to be good, he wanted to be holy; and on this point he could be tough and uncompromising. He came by these qualities naturally: among the great families of Renaissance Italy, the Medici were famous as patrons of the arts, and the Borgias as schemers, but the Gonzagas were a warrior clan. While most Gonzaga men aspired to conquer others, Aloysius was determined to conquer himself.

Aloysius wanted to be a priest. When he was 12 or 13, he invented for himself a program he thought would prepare him for the religious life. He climbed out of bed in the middle of the night to put in extra hours kneeling on the cold stone floor of his room. Occasionally, he even beat himself with a leather dog leash. Aloysius was trying to become a saint by sheer willpower. It was not until he entered the Jesuit novitiate in Rome that he had a spiritual director, St. Robert Bellarmine, to guide him.

Bellarmine put a stop to Aloysius’ boot camp approach to sanctity, commanding him to follow the Jesuit rule of regular hours of prayer and simple acts of self-control and self-denial. Aloysius thought the Jesuits were too lenient, but he obeyed. Such over-the-top zeal may have exasperated Bellarmine, but he believed that Aloysius’ fervor was genuine and that with proper guidance the boy might be a saint.

To his credit, Aloysius recognized that his bullheadedness was a problem. From the novitiate he wrote to his brother, "I am a piece of twisted iron. I entered the religious life to get twisted straight."

Then, in January 1591, the plague struck Rome. With the city’s hospitals overflowing with the sick and the dying, the Jesuits sent every priest and novice to work in the wards. This was a difficult assignment for the squeamish Aloysius. Once he started working with the sick, however, fear and disgust gave way to compassion. He went into the streets of Rome and carried the ill and the dying to the hospital on his back. There he washed them, found them a bed, or at least a pallet, and fed them. Such close contact with the sick was risky. Within a few weeks, Aloysius contracted the plague himself and died. He was 23 years old.

In the sick, the helpless, the dying, St. Aloysius saw the crucified Christ. The man of the iron will who thought he could take Heaven by sheer determination surrendered at last to divine grace.

- Excerpted from "Saints for Every Occasion," by Thomas J. Craughwell

O God, the giver of all spiritual gifts, who in the angelic youth of thy blessed Saint Aloysius didst unite a wondrous penitence to a wondrous innocence of life: grant, by his merits and intercession; that although we have not followed the pattern of his innocence, yet we may imitate the example of his penitence; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

St. Alban, Britain's Protomartyr

St. Alban is the first recorded Christian martyr in Britain, and although the traditional date of his death is c.304 during the persecution under the Emperor Diocletian, there are many scholars who would date it as early as c.209, during the persecution under the Emperor Septimius Severus.

Alban was a pagan, serving as a soldier in the Roman Army. He gave shelter to a Christian priest who was fleeing from arrest, and during the next few days the two talked at length. As a result, Alban became a Christian.

When officers came in search of the priest, Alban met them, dressed in the priest's cloak, and they mistook him for the priest and arrested him. He refused to renounce his new faith, and was beheaded, so becoming the first Christian martyr in Britain. The second martyr was the executioner who was to kill him, but who heard his testimony and was so impressed that he, too, professed the Christian Faith, and refused to kill Alban. The third martyr was the priest, who when he learned that Alban had been arrested in his place, hurried to the court in the hope of saving Alban by turning himself in. The place of their deaths is near the site of St. Alban's Cathedral today.

Almighty God, by whose grace and power thy holy martyr Alban triumphed over suffering and was faithful even unto death: Grant to us, who now remember him with thanksgiving, to be so faithful in our witness to thee in this world, that we may receive with him the crown of life; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

The brilliant C. S. Lewis

There are certain writers who are able to distill wisdom into small nuggets. I read these things and think, "I wish I'd said that!" One such writer is C. S. Lewis. He expresses great thoughts so simply that it seems to take me forever to get through some of his works, only because I find myself stopping to think about what just made me nod my head up and down in agreement. Here are only a few of his gems, and you probably have other favourites that you have discovered yourself.

A man can no more diminish God's glory by refusing to worship Him than a lunatic can put out the sun by scribbling the word, 'darkness' on the walls of his cell.

Christianity, if false, is of no importance, and if true, of infinite importance. The only thing it cannot be is moderately important.

God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing.

If you look for truth, you may find comfort in the end; if you look for comfort you will not get either comfort or truth, only soft soap and wishful thinking to begin, and in the end, despair.

Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.

Some people feel guilty about their anxieties and regard them as a defect of faith, but they are afflictions, not sins. Like all afflictions, they are, if we can so take them, our share in the passion of Christ.

There are two kinds of people: those who say to God, "Thy will be done," and those to whom God says, "All right, then, have it your way."

We all want progress, but if you're on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road; in that case, the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive.

C. S. Lewis was, as most people know, an Anglican, although nearly everyone would like to claim him as one of their own. He was born on 29 November 1898, died on 22 November 1963, and possessed one of the great minds of the 20th century. Lewis was a novelist, poet, academic, medievalist, literary critic, essayist, theologian, and Christian apologist. He held academic positions at both Oxford University (Magdalen College), 1925–1954, and Cambridge University (Magdalene College), 1954–1963.

The unanswerable question for many people is, "If he had lived longer, would he have become a Catholic?" Anglicans and other protestants (for obvious reasons) insist he would not have done so. However, I'm quite convinced he would have. When one considers what has happened to protestantism generally (and Anglicanism specifically) since the time of his death, it seems to me that with the incisive and logical mind he had, along with his deep love for God and His Truth, it would have been impossible for him to have remained where he was. I believe it would have become obvious to him that the only logical spiritual home for him must be where so many equally thoughtful men have ended up - in Rome.

Church Doors

I like good, solid church doors. There's something beautiful about them, with the promise of great possibilities behind them. Here are the doors at Our Lady of the Atonement Church...

The main doors

The original doors, now opening from the nave onto the courtyard.

The Sacred Heart Chapel door.

St. Romuald of Ravenna

St. Romuald, born c.950 in Ravenna, is the founder of the Camaldolese Order, which is a branch of the Benedictines. Austere and devout, along with the penance he imposed upon his young monks, he also gave them solid formation. Here is the “Brief Rule” of St. Romuald for his monks:

Sit in your cell as in paradise. Put the whole world behind you and forget it. Watch your thoughts like a good fisherman watching for fish. The path you must follow is in the Psalms — never leave it.

If you have just come to the monastery, and in spite of your good will you cannot accomplish what you want, take every opportunity you can to sing the Psalms in your heart and to understand them with your mind. And if your mind wanders as you read, do not give up; hurry back and apply your mind to the words once more.

Realize above all that you are in God's presence, and stand there with the attitude of one who stands before the emperor.

Empty yourself completely and sit waiting, content with the grace of God, like the chick who tastes nothing and eats nothing but what his mother brings him.

That sounds like good guidance for all of us.

O God, who through Saint Romuald didst renew the manner of life of hermits in thy Church: grant, we beseech thee; that, denying ourselves and following Christ, we may merit to reach the heavenly realms on high; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

The unity desired by Christ...

Some time ago I had a brief exchange of emails with an Anglican clergyman who lives a little distance away. His parish is, I think, part of the American group that's in a pastoral relationship with some of the Anglicans in Africa. I don't really understand all the connections, and I don't know who's in communion with whom, but he came across as a very nice man who plainly loves Christ. He was writing to express his interest in talking with me, so I let him know I'd be delighted to see him, and we exchanged some possible dates and times.

One of my suggestions was a time right after one of the weekday Masses. "In fact," I wrote, "perhaps you'd like to come to the Mass, and we can meet right afterwards." That sounded like a great idea to him, and I thought we were set.

Then I got another email. "Am I ok for Holy Communion?" I knew what he was asking, and I wondered why he would even ask. "Sadly, no," I wrote back, "I'm a priest under orders, as I know you understand, and I wouldn't be able to administer Holy Communion to you."

Here's what he wrote back: "This is one of the things that stands in the way of real unity - the RCC treats other Christians as though they aren’t really Christians - denying them the Body and the Blood. This is especially problematic in light of the fact that you and I do nearly the same service, and our ordinations share many of the same apostolic roots, along with a common apostolic succession. That’s gotta hurt the cause of Christ in a world that desperately, desperately needs Him."

It was probably my fault because had I invited him to attend the Mass. Maybe that's why he took it as more than just an invitation to be there, although his response made it obvious that he knew the answer before he asked the question. His blanket statement that Catholics treat others as though they're not really Christians is based solely upon the fact that we don't have a "come one, come all" policy at the Communion rail. He knows the Church doesn't deny that he's a Christian. In fact, the Church teaches explicitly that all those who are validly baptised belong to Christ. And then there's the subtle slap, that I'm hurting the "cause of Christ" because I won't allow him to receive Holy Communion. The problem is, most protestants view Holy Communion as a means of achieving the unity Christ desires; whereas the Catholic understanding is that it's sign of the unity of faith we're supposed to have already. So how can we best understand the vast difference between those two understandings?

Maybe St. Paul can help. In his epistle to the Ephesians, he holds up the relationship Christ has with the Church as being an image of the marriage relationship. That image provides a very helpful picture to us, when it comes to Holy Communion.

We've all known young couples who decide that they're going to live together, and have a sexual relationship, because they think it will somehow bring them closer together, and help them find out if they should get married. In effect, they want to pretend they're married, in the hope that it'll lead to the real thing. Of course, it doesn't. It cheapens God's gift of sexuality. And even if they do eventually marry, you can be sure that the anniversary they keep isn't going to be the anniversary of the first time they slept together!

Having a sexual relationship outside of marriage gives a fake impression of a sacred union. It's unsatisfying, and eventually one or both of the partners starts to feel used. At some point there comes a desire either to end it, or else to make it permanent. It's only when a man and a woman have bound themselves together before God by "pledging their troth each to the other" - by making solemn vows to one another before God - it's only then that their sexual relationship can be what God intends it to be.

Keep that image in mind - the image of a man and woman bound by vows made before God. Now think about trying to achieve Christian unity by having everybody receive Holy Communion, no matter what they believe. It's like sex before marriage. It's only an illusion of unity.

George Herbert: A Brief Life of Love

George Herbert, memorialized in Salisbury Cathedral.

For many years I have had an admiration for George Herbert, an Anglican poet and cleric who died in 1633. My interest in his poetry began when I was a student at the Theological College in Salisbury, England.

It was in the small parish of St. Andrew's, Bemerton, just outside Salisbury that he spent the totality of his very brief three-year ministry. Truly a “country parson,” he was known as “Holy Mr. Herbert” for those three years, so striking was his devotion to God and his dedication to his parish. I felt a connection with him especially during the few years I spent as organist and choirmaster at St. Michael and All Angels, Bemerton Heath, which was a daughter parish of nearby St. Andrew’s.

One of the loveliest hymns we sing is his beautiful poem "Praise.II" set to David Walker’s gorgeous tune, “General Seminary.”

King of glory, King of peace,
I will love thee;
and that love may never cease,
I will move thee.
Thou hast granted my request,
thou hast heard me;
thou didst note my working breast,
thou hast spared me.

Wherefore with my utmost art
I will sing thee,
and the cream of all my heart
I will bring thee.
Though my sins against me cried,
thou didst clear me;
and alone, when they replied,
thou didst hear me.

Seven whole days, not one in seven,
I will praise thee;
in my heart, though not in heaven,
I can raise thee.
Small it is, in this poor sort
to enroll thee:
e'en eternity's too short
to extol thee.

George Herbert was a protestant in his birth and upbringing and thought. His theology included ideas from both Luther and Calvin. But a mystical love for Christ and His sacrificial work weaves a Catholic flavour throughout his writings. His poem “Love.(III)” contains a beautiful reflection on God’s enveloping love, man’s sin and need for repentance, Christ’s forgiveness, and His compelling invitation to the Banquet:

"Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick - eyed Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lacked anything.

'A guest,' I answered, 'worthy to be here':
Love said, 'You shall be he.'
'I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear,
I cannot look on thee.'
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
'Who made the eyes but I?'

'Truth, Lord, but I have marred them; let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.'
'And know you not,' says Love, 'who bore the blame?'
'My dear, then I will serve.'
'You must sit down,' says Love, 'and taste my meat.'
So I did sit and eat."

I find these words to be hauntingly beautiful. It must be our shared love for God that makes the thoughts of a centuries-old Anglican priest-poet remain fresh for us today.

An old and familiar voice...

I keep a copy of Cardinal Newman’s Apologia pro vita sua on my desk.  It's old and dog-eared. It has underlinings in it from my college days when I first read it. In fact, I can remember snatching odd moments between classes just to read a few pages and to savour one or another point he was making. Ultimately, this book would be instrumental in my own conversion to the Catholic Church, and some things I wrote on the title page bear that out. The first thing I wrote was, “I, too, am following the steps of Cardinal Newman – I left the Episcopal Church on 12th January 1982.” Beneath that I wrote, “I was made deacon in the Catholic church on Aug. 7, 1983.” Under that, “ordained Priest – Aug. 15, 1983.” And then finally, “ad Jesum per Mariam.”

For me, part of the brilliance of Cardinal Newman’s writing is the innocent faith that shines through. I can remember reading passages such as this, and then having a light go on in my mind:

"People say that the doctrine of Transubstantiation is difficult to believe; I did not believe the doctrine till I was a Catholic. I had no difficulty in believing it as soon as I believed that the Catholic Roman Church was the oracle of God, and that she had declared this doctrine to be part of the original revelation. It is difficult, impossible to imagine, I grant - but how is it difficult to believe? Yet Macaulay thought it so difficult to believe, that he had need of a believer in it of talents as eminent as Sir Thomas More, before he could bring himself to conceive that the Catholics of an enlightened age could resist “the overwhelming force of the argument against it.” “Sir Thomas More,” he says, “is one of the choice specimens of wisdom and virtue; and the doctrine of transubstantiation is a kind of proof charge. A faith which stands that test, will stand any test.” But for myself, I cannot indeed prove it, I cannot tell how it is; but I say, “Why should not it be? What's to hinder it? What do I know of substance or matter? just as much as the greatest philosophers, and that is nothing at all;” - so much is this the case, that there is a rising school of philosophy now, which considers phenomena to constitute the whole of our knowledge in physics. The Catholic doctrine leaves phenomena alone. It does not say that the phenomena go; on the contrary, it says that they remain: nor does it say that the same phenomena are in several places at once. It deals with what no one on earth knows any thing about, the material substances themselves. And, in like manner, of that majestic Article of the Anglican as well as of the Catholic Creed, - the doctrine of the Trinity in Unity. What do I know of the Essence of the Divine Being? I know that my abstract idea of three is simply incompatible with my idea of one; but when I come to the question of concrete fact, I have no means of proving that there is not a sense in which one and three can equally be predicated of the Incommunicable God."

He writes in the same way about the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception:

"Let me take the doctrine which Protestants consider our greatest difficulty, that of the Immaculate Conception. Here I entreat the reader to recollect my main drift, which is this. I have no difficulty in receiving it: if I have no difficulty, why may not another have no difficulty also? why may not a hundred? a thousand? Now I am sure that Catholics in general have not any intellectual difficulty at all on the subject of the Immaculate Conception; and that there is no reason why they should. Priests have no difficulty. You tell me that they ought to have a difficulty - but they have not. Be large-minded enough to believe, that men may reason and feel very differently from yourselves; how is it that men fall, when left to themselves, into such various forms of religion, except that there are various types of mind among them, very distinct from each other? From my testimony then about myself, if you believe it, judge of others also who are Catholics: we do not find the difficulties which you do in the doctrines which we hold; we have no intellectual difficulty in that in particular, which you call a novelty of this day. We priests need not be hypocrites, though we be called upon to believe in the Immaculate Conception. To that large class of minds, who believe in Christianity, after our manner, -in the particular temper, spirit, and light, (whatever word is used,) in which Catholics believe it, - there is no burden at all in holding that the Blessed Virgin was conceived without original sin; indeed, it is a simple fact to say, that Catholics have not come to believe it because it is defined, but it was defined because they believed it."

Every time I make a return visit to the Apologia I find myself nodding in agreement, confirming that my journey took the right path those many years ago.

St. Richard of Chichester

Richard of Wyche was born in 1197 at Droitwyche, the son of a prosperous yeoman farmer. He and his brother were orphaned at an early age, and an incompetent guardian wasted the inheritance. Richard worked long and hard to restore the family property, and when he had succeeded, he turned it over to his brother and went off to Oxford to become a scholar. He was too poor to afford a gown or a fire in winter, but he did very well at his studies, with Robert Grosseteste among his teachers, and he established what would be a lifelong friendship with his tutor, Edmund Rich (Edmund of Abingdon). He studied canon law at Oxford (and probably also at Paris and Bologna) and, having acquired a doctorate, he became Chancellor of Oxford in 1235.

Meanwhile, his tutor had become Archbishop of Canterbury, and soon asked Richard to become his Chancellor. When the Archbishop rebuked King Henry III for keeping various bishoprics vacant as long as possible (because as long as they were vacant their revenues went to the Crown), Henry forced him into exile, and Richard accompanied him to France and nursed him in his final illness. After the Archbishop's death in 1240, Richard studied at the Dominican house in Orleans, and was ordained priest in 1243.

In 1244 he was elected Bishop of Chichester, but Henry would not recognize the election, locked him out of the bishop's residence, and pocketed the revenues. Richard accepted shelter with a village priest, and spent the next two years walking barefoot through his diocese, preaching to fishermen and farmers, and correcting abuses. He held synods to legislate, and insisted that the sacraments must be administered without payment, and the Liturgy celebrated with reverence and order. The clergy were required to be celibate, to wear clerical dress, and to live in the parishes they were assigned to and carry out their duties in person. The laity were required to attend services on all Sundays and holy days, and to know by heart the Lord's Prayer, the Hail Mary, and the Apostles' Creed. After two years, Henry was pressured into recognizing Richard as Bishop, but Richard continued to live as he had before. He caught a fever and died in 1253.

A well-known prayer written by him reads in part as follows:

Thanks be to Thee, my Lord Jesus Christ
For all the benefits Thou hast given me,
For all the pains and insults Thou hast borne for me.
O most merciful Redeemer, friend and brother,
May I know Thee more clearly,
Love Thee more dearly,
Follow Thee more nearly.

The Holy Trinity

It is the foundational belief of every Christian that God is a Trinity of Persons. In fact, that is the very definition of Christianity. It comes to us from our Lord Jesus Christ Himself, who said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you...” [St. Matthew 28:18-20].

The doctrine of the Trinity is the foundation and the capstone of our faith. It is the guardian of orthodoxy in the Church; it is the essence of effective preaching; it is the guarantor of proper teaching. In fact, the ancient Church accorded so much importance to a correct understanding of the Trinity that the bishops met together to define the Holy Trinity even before they addressed the issue of which books would be included in the New Testament. It is so foundational that we can honestly say that all errors – all heresies – result from the neglect or misunderstanding of the doctrine of the Holy Trinity.

So what does it actually teach us about God?

The doctrine of the Trinity teaches us that God is transcendent over the universe. It teaches us that God is in all things; it does not teach us that all things are God, which is incorrect and a heresy. The doctrine of the Trinity teaches us that although God is accessible to all, He is above all and beyond all. He is not some kind of “higher self,” nor is he a “deeper consciousness.” He is not an oracle or a disembodied ghostly spirit. God stands above the universe, even as He pervades it. He exercises His own judgment. He has the right to do as He pleases. The doctrine of the Trinity reveals how God could create the universe, and yet be able to speak and make Himself known within it.

In order for God to create the universe, He must be conscious. Certainly an unconscious being could not undertake a deliberate act. Consciousness requires the ability to contrast between “me” and “not me.” Before the creation of the universe, there was nothing that was not God; therefore a god who is simply one person could never achieve consciousness. Such a god would not be able to create the universe, and could not make himself known nor speak within it.

We can understand something of this idea of “consciousness” in our own human relationships, because we are aware of ourselves through our relationships with others. Our own self-consciousness begins in our relationship with our parents, and the consciousness we have about ourselves develops within the various relationships we have – including our relationship with God. This is why, in those rare cases of feral children – children who have been abandoned and raised in the wild by animals – they have the consciousness of animals. They are, of course, human in that they have souls, but their consciousness is stunted because they have not been able to have a normal relationship with other human beings.

This truth is found supremely in the three Persons of the Holy Trinity, and it shows something of the fact that we are created in God’s image. The three Persons have a relationship of love, forming the “consciousness” of God; indeed, this love is because of the three united states of consciousness. The Persons of the Trinity are completely One in substance, essence, and will, but each Person in the Trinity perceives the others as both “me” and “not me.” This is why we say the Father is not the Son, nor is the Son the Holy Spirit – and yet, all are God, in a relationship of unity and love. This unity and love means that God is eternally self-conscious and so is capable of deliberate acts.

The doctrine of the Trinity reveals the divine relationship within the Godhead, when we hear Jesus, one Person of the Trinity, calling Himself the Son of another Person of the Trinity, whom He termed His Father, and the third Person, whom He called the Holy Spirit. In this way, He revealed that the relationship among the three Divine Persons is one of perfect love, of mutual submission, and of a unity of will.

The doctrine of the Trinity reveals why God saves us and sustains us and to brings us into His glory. As the three Persons live in a relationship of love, so God wants to bring us into that same relationship of love. And because of that, even though we are made by God, God has infinitely more interest in us than a potter has in the pots he makes. God is not satisfied with displaying the good pots and discarding the defective ones; rather, He keeps them all, because God loves us all. God has a paternal interest in us that goes far beyond the physical making of us. He actually works to save us from the fate of being mere things. God wants to perfect us, so that we can live with Him in His glory. Our destiny is not to exist in some obscure corner as an object, but to live in an eternal fellowship with God, sharing in His divine relationship of love.

The doctrine of the Trinity reveals how God can be transcendent and eternal, and yet how He can enter into time and space in the Person of Jesus Christ. It explains how God can relate to us personally, on our own terms, but without abdicating the operation of the universe.

The doctrine of the Trinity explains how God can be transcendent and eternal, and yet dwell within us and empower us. It explains how God can be in all things, but not of any one thing; it explains why we find God within us, when at the same time He is above us and beyond us. It explains how the Church can be a human institution, and yet at the same time divine; how it can carry out God’s divine Will, even as it demonstrates our imperfections.

The doctrine of the Trinity explains how a priest can fruitfully celebrate the sacraments and preach the Word in spite of his personal sinfulness, a reminder that God communicates His wisdom through foolish men.

Try as we might to fully understand and explain, the reality of the Trinity is imperfectly expressed in any and all human terms. For example, we sometimes hear from the “politically correct” a reference to the Trinity as “Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer,” but that does not describe the essence of the Trinity as it is revealed by Jesus, the incarnate God. Those terms tell us what God does, but it does not tell us who He is. To ascribe only one function to a particular Person of the Trinity leads to heresy.

We can ask, who is the Creator? Is it the Father who spoke the eternal Word, or is it the Word through whom all things were made, or is it the Spirit who moved upon the waters? The answer is: all three. We cannot divide God.

We can ask, who is the Redeemer? Is it the Father who sent the Son, or is it the Son who died and rose again, or is it the Spirit who gives us faith and repentance? The answer is: all three. We cannot divide God.

We can ask, who is the Sustainer? Is it the Father who supplies our needs, or is it the Son who advocates our cause, or is it the Spirit who dwells within us? The answer is: all three. We cannot divide God.

Why should the Creator take an interest in His creation? Why does the Redeemer save us? Why should the Sustainer preserve us beyond mere physical existence? This faulty human formula invented by those who wish to avoid the traditional terms because they judge words such as “Father” and “Son” as being not inclusive, does nothing other than reveal some of the functions of God. It does not describe His divine nature, or His divine motivation, or His eternal plan. It does not reveal God’s love, nor does it explain whether or why God transforms us into whom He intends us to be. In fact, the more people try to be “politically correct” when referring to God, the more their efforts remain “this-worldly,” with no hope for anything beyond the here-and-now.

Therefore, it is necessary for us to proclaim that God is the Father of Mary’s baby; and that God is that baby, the Son of Mary; and that God is the Spirit who conceived that baby in Mary’s virgin womb. Those are facts of history, and in those facts we find that God is love.

Perhaps after all the philosophy, and after all the formulae, and after all the wondering about how three can be one, and one can be three, perhaps this best explains the Holy Trinity: God, as Father, Son and Holy Spirit, loves us, and adopts us, and makes us His witnesses in this world. And why? So that we can know Him, and be in a relationship of love with Him, and live with Him eternally in Heaven.

Almighty and everlasting God, who hast given unto us thy servants grace, by the confession of a true faith, to acknowledge the glory of the eternal Trinity, and in the power of the Divine Majesty to worship the Unity: We beseech thee that thou wouldest keep us steadfast in this faith and worship, and bring us at last to see thee in thy one and eternal glory, O Father; who with the Son and the Holy Spirit livest and reignest, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Hymns for St. Anthony's Day

Statue of St. Anthony of Padua
located in the Lady Chapel
at Our Lady of the Atonement Church.

Several years ago I wrote two hymn texts in honour of the Patron of our City and our Archdiocese, and they are published here for anyone who would like to use them.

       1.    Praise to God the mighty Father, who didst call Saint Anthony

            from a life of sore temptation to the way of purity.

Humble work and meek obedience marked his holy way of love;

now, his earthly task completed, works his wonders from above.

            2.      Praise to Jesus Christ our Saviour, who didst give Saint Anthony

grace to preach with zeal and boldness, giving truth new charity.

Men, once lost, who heard the Gospel from the lips of Francis' son

came to know God's grace and favour, and the life which Christ had won.

      3.      Praise to God the Holy Spirit, who inspired Saint Anthony

in the way of love and service, calling men to charity,

lifting up the fallen sinner, feeding them with Living Bread,

showing men the way to heaven, there to live with Christ their Head.

           4.      Gracious Doctor and Confessor, holy Priest with golden tongue,

joined with all the saints of heaven, praising God the Three in One;

help us in our earthly journey, keep our thoughts on God most high,

that with thee, Christ's saint and servant, we may live and never die.

Tune: Rustington, by Charles H. H. Parry (1848-1918)

Text: Fr. Christopher G. Phillips

            1.      Simple saint and faithful priest,

            at this Eucharistic feast

we recall thy holy face,

and with thee our Lord embrace.

Give us true simplicity:

pray for us, Saint Anthony.

      2.      Word of God thou didst proclaim;

            unto thee God's Spirit came,

bringing faith when thou didst preach,

showing truth when thou didst teach.

May we speak words truthfully:

pray for us Saint Anthony.

            3.      Error flees before God's Light:

            through thy life Christ shineth bright,

showing men the way to peace,

evil's hold from them release.

Free from evil may we be:

pray for us Saint Anthony.

Tune: Bread of Heaven, by William Dalrymple Maclagan (1826-1910)

Text: Fr. Christopher G. Phillips