Mark 10:45

Tag: religion

  • Can You Hear?

    Can You Hear?

    Memorial of St. Ambrose, Bishop and Doctor of the Church (Dec 7)

    Isaiah 30:19-21, 23-26; Matthew 9:35–10:1, 5a, 6-8

    In the first reading, Isaiah reminded us of two things: First, our Teacher will no longer hide himself; second, his voice shall sound in our ears. In both of these, I find echoes of the great St. Ambrose, who we remember today.

    Christ hardly hid himself from Ambrose; quite the contrary. Born just after Christianity became the religion of the Empire, raised in a wealthy Catholic family, Ambrose was highly intelligent, politically astute, and virtuous. As a young man, he became governor of a large part of northern Italy that included Milan. At that time, Christianity was embroiled in a battle between Arians, who believed that Jesus was not God, and Catholics, who did. When the Archbishop of Milan died, an argument broke out about whether an Arian or Catholic bishop should succeed him. Summoned to the cathedral to help settle the issue, he addressed the crowd. While he was speaking, a small voice cried, “Ambrose, bishop!” When the whole assembly took up the cry, Ambrose fled and hid in the house of a friend.

    Why would he do that? A couple of reasons. For one thing, Ambrose had never been baptized! Second, he was governor; his focus was on himself and his career. When he walked into that cathedral, he saw a crowd with an issue to settle, not troubled sheep without a shepherd, who needed him. But Christ did, and when that voice said, “Ambrose, bishop,” it was Christ sounding in his ears what we heard in the gospel: The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few… Without cost you have received; without cost you are to give (Matthew 9:37; 10:8).

    On one level, he was a good choice. Both the Arians and the Catholics liked and respected him; they knew him as a good man, a man with natural virtue. But that’s not enough; Christ needs good Christians, and that requires the supernatural virtues infused at baptism – faith, hope, and love – and the grace of the other sacraments, especially the Blessed Sacrament. After the emperor refused his request to find someone else, Ambrose submitted himself, undergoing one of the fastest and most complete conversions in history: From pagan to bishop in about 10 days!

    From then on, armed with those graces, bishop Ambrose lived a life of heroic virtue. For 23 years, he worked tirelessly to educate himself, his priests, and his people. A compassionate shepherd, his door was open to everyone, from pauper to emperor. A rigorous defender of the faith, he wiped out Arianism in Milan, facing down emperors to do it, and he excommunicated the Catholic emperor Theodosius, famously announcing that emperors are in the Church, not over it. A gifted speaker and writer, his teaching impressed and won over Augustine, who went on to become a great bishop and doctor of the Church himself. All this because Ambrose heard the voice of Christ calling him to a richer, deeper life, and responded to it, however reluctantly at first.

    It’s good to remember this lesson from the life of St. Ambrose, especially during Advent. In a world that advertises Christmas before Halloween is over, Christ is almost hidden by his own holiday and his voice drowned out by the noise, hustle and bustle of the season. Still, we are called to live in this world, and not just live in it, but bring Christ to it. That takes all the virtues, natural and supernatural, and the grace of the sacraments, especially Holy Communion. So, as we approach to receive our Lord at holy Mass this Advent, let us take time to savor and rejoice in Isaiah’s words, with your own eyes you shall see your Teacher, and listen carefully for Christ the Teacher sounding in our ears, ‘This is the way; walk in it’ (Isaiah 30:20, 21).

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  • Standing on the Shoulders of Giants

    Standing on the Shoulders of Giants

    Memorial of Sts. John de Brébeuf and Isaac Jogues, Priests, and Companions, Martyrs

    Ephesians 1:15-23; Luke 12:8-12

    An hour or so from Paris stands the glorious cathedral, Our Lady of Chartres. Among its many stunning windows, four are of particular note: One each dedicated to Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Why so noteworthy? Because in each window the evangelist appears, not alone, but held up by one of the prophets; in other words, the gospels give us a deeper view of Christ because the evangelists “stood on the shoulders of giants.”

    If I were to design a stained glass window dedicated to the North American martyrs, Sts. John de Brébeuf, Isaac Jogues, and their companions, I’d do the same thing. There isn’t time to go into everything these Jesuit priests did in bringing Christ to the indigenous peoples of Ontario and the surrounding area, but suffice it to say that at least one of them, St. John de Brébeuf, was a giant in his own way.

    First, Father was a big man, over 6 feet tall, broad-shouldered, and strong. This would come in handy doing the daily work of living among the people. Second, Father had a big heart; he was gentle, humble, and peaceable. Third, he was a sensitive, thoughtful planner. Before evangelizing the Huron people, Father slowly got to know them. He studied their language, their customs and beliefs, their entire way of life. It took him two years, but he learned their language well enough to write a phrase book, translate the Catechism and some bible passages, and compose a hymn for them to sing.

    But even with all that effort, evangelization was difficult. The Huron resisted. Father baptized very few, all of them dying. What’s more, he and the other “Black Robes” were blamed for any catastrophe, illness, or bad luck. His life was often in peril. This must have been discouraging at times, but if so, he never let on. Father loved Christ and knew, as St. Paul said, the hope that belongs to his call (Ephesians 1:18): God had a plan, and he had a part; he simply had to persevere. That’s what he did. As the years passed and few came into the faith, he continued to master the Huron language and culture, and trained the incoming missionaries in it, so they could minister in ways and words the Hurons could understand and relate to.

    When Fr. Jogues arrived, a new idea came with him. Going out one by one and living among the Hurons was good, but why not also invite the Hurons to live among Catholics, so they could see how Catholics live? Grounded in the Huron language and ways, thanks to the years of work by Fr. de Brébeuf, Jogues founded a small town, “St. Mary Among the Hurons,” in the heart of Huron land. It was small at first, perhaps 20 people, but they lived, worked, and prayed together. Faith, family, and community life were centered on Christ. Before long, the Hurons got interested and the faith began to grow. By the time Frs. Jogues and de Brébeuf were martyred, 7000 Hurons had been baptized. And, ironically, from the tribe of their Mohawk killers soon came the first native saint, Kateri Tekakwitha.

    What does this have to do with us? Well, sadly, almost 400 years after this, we find ourselves in a society in some ways as pagan as the one the Jesuits came to on mission. Like them, we cannot stand idly by, for we, too, are missionaries, called as Christ said in the gospel, to acknowledge him before others. The word “Mass” comes from “mission”; we are told to go and announce the gospel of the Lord.

    But go do… what? There we have help, for the Holy Spirit has stood us on the shoulders of giants. As we look at what these martyrs did, we see that they didn’t impose the faith, they proposed it; they invited, but they didn’t compel. St. John de Brébeuf taught us that the first step is learning the language and ways of the culture, so we can meet people where they are. Our culture is full of examples: Celebrities, pop stars, television shows; all these are what the people know well. Use them as examples; celebrate their good aspects, challenge the bad, but always tie them to the faith. And St. Isaac Jogues taught us not to worry about what to say, but to live as Christ has taught us; if we do that, our lives are the most eloquent witness we can give. Nothing draws people to Christ more than being treated with dignity; welcoming, valuing, and listening to them.

    Can it get discouraging? Yes. Will we be rejected? Often. But like today’s martyrs, remember the hope that belongs to his call. Our mission isn’t to make people become what they aren’t, but to show them who they already are: Beloved sons and daughters of God, who see Him best by standing with us on the shoulders of His only Son, our Lord and theirs, Jesus Christ.

    Sts. John de Brébeuf, Isaac Jogues, and Companions, pray for us.

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