Tag: servant

  • Body and Soul

    Body and Soul

    Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary

    1 Corinthians 15:20-27; Luke 1:39-56

    Speaking of God the Father, St. John of the Cross once said that, “In giving us his Son, his only Word (for he possesses no other), he spoke everything to us at once in this sole Word – and he has no more to say…”1

    In a very real way, the same can be said of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Her entire life proclaimed the greatness of the Lord. Everything she is – the humble, lowly, servant – speaks of Jesus, and everything she did – from hearing the word, to conceiving Jesus, to mothering him, to watching him die, to praying for the coming of the Spirit, her Spouse – speaks of doing his will, and the will of the One who sent him.

    So intimately united to the Blessed Trinity, body and soul, from the beginning, how could Mary be any less united to Him, body or soul, when her own earthly life came to an end? And when St. Paul, inspired by the Holy Spirit, wrote those beautiful, hopeful words: just as in Adam all die, so too in Christ shall all be brought to life, but each one in proper order: Christ the firstfruits; then, at his coming, those who belong to Christ (1 Corinthians 15:22-23), who can we imagine belonging more to Christ than Mary, his devoted daughter and mother? That is how we picture Mary best: As forever belonging to Christ, and as a model for how we should picture ourselves. For, after Jesus, that is God’s greatest gift to us through the Blessed Mother: Her destiny is our destiny; where Mary has gone, we, too, can go. Her Son suffered, died, and rose again to see to it, for her sake, and for ours.

    With that in mind, and in our prayers, let us celebrate the Feast of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary for what it is: The great reunion when mother and son embrace body and soul once again in the eternal splendor of heaven. And let us today, as every day, continue to thank God for the gift of his mother, who he has made our mother, and who, to this day, hears the word of God and does it, that we may one day embrace our Lord, body and soul, in that same glory.

    Mary, assumed into heaven, pray for us.

    1St. John of the Cross, The Ascent of Mount Carmel 2, 22, 3-5 in The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, translated by K. Kavanaugh OCD and O. Rodriguez OCD (Washington DC: Institute of Carmelite Studies, 1979), 179-180.



  • Minute Meditation: St. Martin de Porres

    Minute Meditation: St. Martin de Porres

    Philippians 2:5-11

    Among the most important things we ever say, our last words probably rank pretty high. That is certainly the time to say the one thing that is closest to our heart; the thing we want others to hear and perhaps even remember us by.

    The last words of the man we remember today, St. Martin de Porres, are a perfect case in point. Brief yet the height of eloquence, they capture him as no other words could. As he lay near death, Martin continued to do what he so often did in life – he prayed. As he and his Dominican community recited the Creed, St. Martin breathed his last at the words of the Incarnation: “et homo factus est” (“And became man”).

    It is fortuitous that the first reading today gives us those beautiful words of Philippians that sing of our Lord, Jesus Christ: though he was in the form of God, (he) did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave… (Philippians 2:6-7). Since those words were first written, humanity has struggled to understand this depth of humility; how the all-powerful, indivisible, unseen God could so humble himself as to take up the fragile flesh of his own creation and, through the perfect oblation of his passion, death, and resurrection lift, redeem and exalt it to the glory of God the Father.

    Imagine the mercy; imagine the kind of love that would do this.

    This was the love that St. Martin de Porres poured himself out to imitate: To be himself that same model of charity; to plumb the depths of humility that would bring him closer and closer to Christ. Driven by this, Martin spent his life doing the things that Christ did – praying constantly, working incessantly, serving the servants, offering himself whenever and wherever he could. All this made his last words not only an affirmation of the Incarnation but the most eloquent and fitting summary of his life: Humility born of love, given completely to service, that others may live.

    St. Martin de Porres, pray for us.

  • The Leader as Servant: Feast of Pope St. Gregory the Great

    The Leader as Servant: Feast of Pope St. Gregory the Great

    2 Corinthians 4:1-2, 5-7; Luke 22:24-30

    In the gospel we hear Jesus say to the Apostles, let the greatest among you be as the youngest, and the leader as the servant. Few people epitomize those words better than the successor of the Apostles we remember today, Pope St. Gregory I.

    Born around the year 540 into a wealthy, aristocratic Roman family, Gregory received the best education of the day, designed to form him as an effective political and social leader. He was also deeply grounded in the faith; indeed, his family tree boasted two popes, several consecrated religious, and at least one saint: his mother, Sylvia. If not born great, Gregory was certainly bred for greatness.

    Greatness was certainly needed, for Rome was in dire straits. No longer the capital of the empire, it was barely guarded; vandals regularly overran it. Plague, war, and famine decimated the population from a high of one million to about fifty thousand. Although Gregory wanted nothing more than to pursue his dream of life as a Benedictine monk, his sense of public service prevailed; at the age of 30 he became mayor and served for two years. When his father died Gregory resigned, turned the family palace into a monastery, and became a monk. He called these the happiest years of his life.

    They didn’t last long. Knowing of Gregory’s talent, Pope Pelagius summoned him, ordained him a deacon, briefly put him in charge of social assistance to Rome and then sent him to Constantinople, where for 6 years he served as ambassador, learning the workings of the imperial court. When he returned to Rome he was delighted to learn that he had been made abbot; however, that too didn’t last long; when Pope Pelagius died, Gregory was unanimously elected pope. He appealed to the emperor to reject the election but he refused. Against his will, Gregory served as pope for 14 years.

    It is difficult to summarize briefly everything Gregory did to merit the title “Great,” but let me focus on two particular areas.

    First was his great love of the missions. Gregory was the first pope to send missionaries to a distant land, dispatching 40 monks to England led by the man who would become St. Augustine of Canterbury. No less important was his acumen and sense of balance; Gregory advised Augustine to bring Christ in His fullness to the Anglo-Saxons but at the same time to adapt the faith where he could to the customs and ways of the people. This bore great fruit; the subsequent centuries saw England and Ireland send out missionaries of their own whose evangelization forever changed the face of Europe. But Gregory’s care and concern for the missions didn’t stop there. Hundreds of his letters still remain, and reveal the pope’s involvement in and knowledge of the missions in places as far away as Africa, Spain and Greece.

    Second, Gregory was a great shepherd to his local flock. For bishops he wrote a book called Pastoral Care, really a treatise on preaching that became popular for centuries, as well as a book on St. Benedict. His own homilies are read to this day; in fact, it is for them that he was made Doctor of the Church. He also transformed Rome into a real diocese, organized under a bishop and seven regional deacons assisted by seven sub-deacons. Using this structure, Gregory systematized outreach to the poor, orphans, and widows. Charity burned so greatly within this man that for years he fed Rome’s poor with money out of his own pocket.

    That’s not to say that the pope never used Church money. To the contrary, he used it whenever he could but did so to protect Rome from invaders. He was a good diplomat and a brilliant negotiator, doing whatever he could to keep the people safe, whether that meant paying imperial troops or bribing vandals to keep away. He was so effective that eventually the city put him in complete charge of the military.

    We could say much more but let us close with St. Paul’s words: God who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to bring to light the knowledge of the glory of God on the face of Jesus Christ (2 Corinthians 4:6). Pope St. Gregory was the lamp God set on Vatican Hill to shine in a very dark time and that light still shines today. In summary and in essence, Gregory’s greatness is the man himself. From him we learn these life lessons: First, we must be aware not only of our power and ability but also our weakness and fragility; this teaches us humility. Second, no matter how much we know or plan, not all decisions or circumstances will work out in our favor; this teaches us patience, perseverance, and fortitude. Finally, although we may want a certain life for ourselves, the love of Christ impels us to put that aside for the greater good of service to God and the world in which we find ourselves. From this we learn the greatest gift of all: Charity. In the end Gregory teaches us that those who are most truly leader most truly serve.

    Pope St. Gregory the Great, pray for us.