One common observation made by
visitors and inquirers regarding Orthodoxy has to do with one of the main forms
of respect and veneration that we practice: kissing. Whether it is an icon in
the narthex, the feet of the statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the relics of
the saints, or the hand of the priest, we tend to show our love, our
veneration, and our respect towards holy things by kissing them. This is,
indeed, an ancient practice.
In the Old Testament we read of kisses as a form of respect, as
when Jacob kissed his father Isaac to secure his blessing (Gen 27:27). In the New
Testament, the Lord’s feet were kissed by the penitent woman as a sign of
devotion and worship (Lk 7:38); there was also the infamous kiss of Judas (Matt
26:49), an ultimate sign of betrayal and the perversion of a holy kiss for ill
will. St. Paul tells us in his Epistle to “greet one another with a holy
kiss” (2 Cor 13:12). In the Roman world, kissing was the most common form
of salutation; one kissed on the lips family members and those of the same
social rank (so common, in fact, that we find ordinances banning aristocrats
from greeting one another with a kiss on the lips during times of plague), and
kissed the hand, foot, or ground in front of those of a higher social standing.
So then the practice of kissing as a greeting and of objects as a way to show respect
is a major part of our tradition.
As time went on the practice of kissing as a greeting fell out of
fashion due to the concerns of arousing inappropriate feelings, but to kiss is
still how we show respect to holy things, an act of veneration and a showing of
our love. We kiss the Cross on Good Friday to show our love to the Lord who
sacrificed himself on that Holy Wood for our salvation. And through that act of
veneration it passes through the Cross and to the Lord Himself. This is an
important point: we do not worship the item or image itself, but rather He who
made all things and who by His Incarnation, by His becoming flesh, sanctified
all created matter. We kiss the relics of the saints because in their lives
their bodies became conduits of the grace of God due to their closeness to the
Lord, and after death they still retain that closeness and grant healing and
strength through their relics.
So too, we kiss the priest’s hand not because he himself is worthy
of it, but because the priest represents Christ to us, and acts in persona Christi, in the person of Christ, during the Mass. It
is also for this reason that the priest disguises himself in vestments, so that
the man may be obscured and we might see Christ the Priest and Victim instead.
As Abbot Tryphon of Vashon Island Monastery eloquently wrote, “The kissing of the hand of the priest is not
about the man, but rather about Christ. It is much like the kissing of an icon,
which is not about the veneration of paint and wood, but about the archetype represented
in the icon. When we kiss the hand of the bishop or priest, we are not showing
respect to the person of the priest but to his sacred office. The priest as
priest represents Christ, and is therefore a living icon of Christ. Though he
be a sinner, and unworthy in and of himself of such respect, that he touches
the Most Holy Things – the Precious Body and Blood of the Lord, the kiss is in
actuality, extended to Christ. Through ordination he has received the Grace of
God to impart spiritual gifts and blessings, so we should not deprive ourselves
of blessings by refusing the priest’s blessing.”
This is why, during the Mass, the deacon, subdeacon, and servers
all kiss the priest’s hand. And why, during the Kiss of Peace, the priest first
receives the peace of Christ by kissing the altar, and then passing it on to
the deacon, who passes it to the subdeacon, and so on. It is the peace of
Christ we acquire through the priest. It is not Fr. John’s hand they are
kissing, but that of our Lord Jesus. So, too, should we greet the priest by
asking his blessing and upon receiving it, kiss the hand of Christ that
mystically grants it through the mortal hand of His priest.
In this new year, let us then endeavor to be more aware of the
ways in which God reaches out to us and provides us with his love and healing
grace: through the hands of his priests, through the holy icons and statues,
and through the relics of the saints.
by Sbdn. Ian Abodeely Pastoral Assistant at St Michael’s Church
When Our Lord Jesus was eight days old, two things happened in
he was circumcised, Our Lord was given the name Jesus (Luke 2.21).
His circumcision fulfilled a command by God in the Old Testament.
That command was a visible sign of the covenant between God and His chosen
people. It was also an indication that our mortality traces to our conception,
and that our tendency to sin (known as concupiscence) is as inherited as our
skin, hair, or eye color.
The holy fathers, however, see something else in St Luke’s
mention that Christ is circumcised. This is the first day when Christ’s blood
is shed, and so His circumcision both proves that He is truly human and also
reveals that our redemption will occur in Christ’s bloodshed on the cross.
That Jesus is named on the day when He is circumcised is not
required in the Old Testament; rather, it is in line with a long-standing
tradition among the Jews. And, for Luke, the naming of Jesus is as important as
His circumcision. For His name explains His purpose.
“His name was called Jesus” because that was the name the
Angel Gabriel gave to both Mary (Luke 1.31) and Joseph (Matthew 1.18) on
separate occasions. On the day of Our Lord’s conception, when Mary was told to
call his name “Jesus” she was also informed that “He shall be
great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest” (Luke 1.32). Joseph heard
the Angel’s command when he was dreaming, and was told that the name “Jesus”
means, “He shall save.”
Most people give their children a particular name for a
reason: to honor a relative or loved one or hero; to connect the child to a
patron saints; in the hope that the child will have the qualities that the name
describes or elicits; or simply because it sounds nice. However, very often in
the Scriptures, names describe a particular human short-coming (like the name,
Isaac) or an attribute or blessing from God.
Joseph and Mary obediently follow the Angel’s direction.
Like Elizabeth and Zacharias, they don’t name the Holy Child after a relative,
but submit their will to the Lord. For they understand that Jesus’ name
describes what He will do: He will save His people from their sins.
Because this name is divinely given, and because it
proclaims our salvation, the name of Jesus should not be used as an exclamation
when something surprising happens. For this is the name by which we are saved,
the name above all names, and the name which will cause every knee to bow.
(Philippians 2.10) Therefore, this name should always be spoken with holy
reverence, and as a prayer.
In fact, it is best to nod the head in prayerful submission
whenever we hear or say the holy name of Jesus. By itself, this little action
will remind us that Our Lord’s Name and His circumcision fit neatly together.
For when Jesus bleeds at His circumcision, He already begins to live up to His
name as the Savior who will sacrifice Himself for the sake of all creation.
One of the themes for the First Sunday in Advent is to be
‘watchful.’ In the Epistle, St Paul urges us to ‘know the hour’ and in the
Gospel Jesus tells us that ‘the kingdom of God is at hand.’ The reason for this
watchfulness is aptly given in the prayer after communion: ‘that we may with
worthy reverence approach the coming festival of our redemption.’
For the past 1000 years, the Catholic and Orthodox churches
in Europe and North America have prepared for and approached the Feast of the
Nativity with fasting and prayer. During these days, Friday abstinence is
extended to the one-meal fast on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. And
additional times for prayer – most especially the radiantly beautiful Rorate
Mass – have been provided.
There is also another precious custom kept primarily in the
home that helps us be watching and ‘know the hour.’ That custom is the Advent
The advent wreath consists of two things: candles and
greens. The candles remind us that, as the days shorten and darkness increases,
‘the Light who enlightens all’ will soon be born. And the greens remind us that
this Light who cannot be overwhelmed is also the Life of all.
The Advent wreath helps us keep track of time by the way the
candles are used. Four candles (three purple and one rose) prepare to count
down the Sundays before Christ Mass. Each week, another candle is lit
increasing our anticipation until, in the last few days before the feast, all
four colored candles are burning.
Of course, the candles are not lit merely to provide light.
Like the candles we light in front of our icons and statues, they are symbols
of faith while helping us center our prayers. So also with the Advent wreath.
This outward act of counting down does us most good when it is coupled with the
inward and spiritual action of reading Scripture, praying, and singing a hymn.
Here’s my suggestion, based on long-standing practice: In
the evening, when the day has wound down, turn down or off all other lights,
and light the appropriate number of Advent candles. As these candles shed their
cheerful light with their warm glow, say the Our Father and Hail Mary and
another fitting prayer. You may also wish to read a brief Scripture selection
and sing an Advent hymn or a song in honor of the Holy Mother of God.
Dedicating yourself daily to this simple devotional practice
will heighten your anticipation of Our Lord’s Nativity. It will also make you
mindful of the time, and will assist you in being ‘watchful’ in your words and
actions so that your ‘rough places’ may be made smoother.
This devotional may also bring to mind that Our Lord comes
both to disperse the darkness that too often infects our souls, and to warm the
coldness that we sometimes feel toward God and others.
But let me take this one step further: On Christ Mass Day,
replace the colored candles with four white candles, and keep up the same
practice during each of the Twelve Days until the Feast of the Epiphany. With
this routine, you will enter the New Year with the daily habit of prayer,
meditation, and song. Can there be a better way to chase way gloom from our
homes, and to be ever mindful of Our Lord’s nearness?
Wishing you and yours a joyful preparation for the Feast of
Our Lord’s Nativity, I remain your spiritual father in Christ,
The words that you heard Our Lord Jesus speak to the Pharisees in the Gospel (Mt 22.34-46) are both subtle and profound. They are subtle because they contain not simply the answer that He wishes to give to them, but also a little bit more that they need to hear. And they are profound because they draw us out of ourselves and deeper into the mystery of the love that God is.
Let’s first consider their subtlety. The Pharisees wish to trap Jesus and so they send someone who knows the law, someone who knows the answer to the question he is going to ask. So this is not a curious question. This is not someone saying, “Gee, Jesus, what do you think of this one?” Rather it is a very tricky, craftily devised question to see how Jesus will answer.
What is the first commandment? You all know the answer. You know that the first commandment is that you shall have no other gods. But that is not how Jesus chooses to answer the question, even though that’s what the Pharisees and especially that expert in the Torah expects to hear.
Jesus simply wishes to focus on something that they have forgotten, something that too often is misunderstood by us, something that escapes us because it lives in our emotions rather than living in who we are. And so the first word out of His mouth is “love.” “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.”
Love God above all else. If you love something else more than God, then you do not yet love God. And to love God is to love God above everything else, to fear nothing but losing God, and to trust in God more than you trust anyone, or anything else.
Love God with all that you are and with all that you have. That’s the first commandment.
The key word is “love.” A word that has escaped these men, for they were not interested in loving Jesus. They were envious of him. They wanted to trap him and trick him. They wanted to see how they could get him. And anytime you want to trip someone up, anytime you want to get at them, anytime you want to stab them with some word, you do not love.
This is why Jesus then continues with more than what they asked for. For they asked for the first commandment and he told them, “This is the first and greatest of all commandments. But the second commandment is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself.”
Notice the order. “To love God is to love our neighbor” (St John Chrysostom). It does not say that to love our neighbor is to love God. For if we put the neighbor first, then we can determine who our neighbor is and how we are going to treat them. And too often our neighbors are people we like, not the people that we think are smelly or dissatisfying to us. And too often the neighbor is the one that we think we can manipulate and bully or use.
Now if we put the neighbor first and say “to love the neighbor is to love God,” then we might be thinking we can get away with something with God. That we can manipulate God and bully Him; that we can say to Him, “See what I have done for you; now here is something you can do for me.”
is often times how our prayers tend to go, even if we don’t say those exact
words. For our prayers tend to be, “God I did my part, now you be fair and do
your part. Do the help that I say I need from you because I did the thing that You
said I should do.”
To put God first; to love God by loving your neighbor—that means that we must love our neighbor in the same way that we love God: with all that we are and with all that we have.
To love our neighbor then is not to try and manipulate him, or to use him, or to bully him, or to see what we can get from him, or to bargain with him. To love our neighbor is to realize that any person put in front of us —not just the ones we like, not just the ones that are agreeable to us, but anyone in front of us—that is the person we are to love. And we are to love with the same love that we have for God: without any fear of losing or being short changed ourselves, without any trust in what we do, without any love for ourselves. That is how we are to love our neighbor because that is how we are to love God.
escaped the Pharisees. It too often escapes us as well. But it escaped them
because, as I said, they were envious, they were jealous, they were trying to
trap him, they were trying to use his words against him. Rather than hearing
what he was saying, they wanted to just listen to the words. Jesus of course
understands this and chooses his words better than we do. He’s very precise in
his language and hits the bottom note just exactly where it needs to be: on the
Now, when Jesus proceeds further He becomes profound. He draws us out of our self, and into the mystery who God is. For our Lord says that we are to love our neighbors as ourselves.
often we hear that backwards too. Too often we think that in order to love my
neighbor I must first love myself. And since I don’t yet love myself how can I
love my neighbor? And so my neighbor will get no love whatsoever until I’ve
learned to love, and forgive, and be at peace with myself.
That’s not what Jesus says. He says love your neighbor as yourself. Not love yourself and then love your neighbor. That is too often how we operate. Our Lord is urging to do is to think about how we are to love ourselves.
We all know that within us lurks some sort of darkness—some darkness of the soul, some darkness of the mind. We all know that within us lurks some sort of fear and anxiety so that we are unsettled with who we truly are. No doubt, this is why we are constantly trying to shift or shape our identity and say to ourselves: “Maybe I fit here, maybe I fit there, maybe I should do this instead. I’m unhappy with all sorts of things in life: work, friends, family: all these things that annoy me.”
is it then with all this darkness lurking within us, when we’re not very sure
about who we are, with all this unhappiness—even during the times when we’re
peaceful and at rest—how is it then that we can even begin to love ourselves?
We love ourselves when we listen not to what our voice says, not to what we think about ourselves, but instead hear the identity that God has given to us: the statement of love He has spoken to us. For He spoke in the waters of baptism the same word to you that He said to his beloved Son: “You are my beloved son, you are my beloved daughter, in whom I am well pleased.”
we have a choice. Do we believe what God says about us, that He loves us even
though He knows our darkness? Even though He knows our flaws? Even though He
knows we are constantly veering off in the wrong direction and are making
promises that we cannot keep, or will not keep? Even though he knows all of
that, He still loves us.
Do we believe what God clearly says to us? Or do we believe the darkness within us; what today’s prayer [collect] calls the contagion of the devil. The contagion of the devil, among other things, wants us to believe that we really are unlovable people because we cannot really love ourselves.
God’s word is very clear and precise to us: “You are my beloved son; You are my
Now when that sinks in, when we can begin to believe that, and trust that, and live from that, and push aside the darkness and bad feelings that are still there—when we say to them, “Nevertheless, God loves me”—when we’re able to do that, then we can begin to love our neighbor. Not because we’ve fallen in love with ourselves, but because we’ve learned to see our neighbor as the same sort of person that we are: the one to whom God says “This is my beloved son, my beloved daughter in whom I am well pleased.”
is the profoundness of the words that Jesus speaks when He says “Love your neighbor
as yourself.” He’s not saying, “First love yourself, and then
love your neighbor.” He’s instead saying, “Love your neighbor with the same
sort of love that God has declared to you; because that is the only love that
you can be sure is true for you; that is the only love that really applies to you.
And so love your neighbor as another human that has been loved by God.”
is hard for us to do because we want to push people away; we want to make sure
that we somehow manipulate them or use them.
But if we love them as God has loved us, and if we love God with everything that we are and everything that we have, then we have not simply fulfilled the first and the second commandments. Rather, we’ve been filled with the God whose love is within us. And we’ve not just kept the rules. We have kept the love of God that he gives to us, and that he is for us, and that he is within us.
To this Lord Jesus Christ, the Father’s beloved Son who lives His love in us, belongs all glory, honor, and worship; now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen
Homily on St. Matthew 22.34-46 by Fr John Fenton for Pentecost XVII (13 October 2019)
We have been led to believe that we can do whatever we want. So when someone tells us that we should do something, or that we must do something, or that we are expected to do something, almost immediately our hackles are raised, our pride rears its ugly head, and we insist to ourselves—if not also aloud to others—that we will do what we like, that no one will tell us what to do, that no one can make us do anything, and that we will make our own choices.
And this stubbornness is applauded by those around us. We congratulate each other for being resolute, for being our own person, for standing up for ourselves and our right to free choice. But in fact we’ve become the slave of our selfishness. We’ve succumbed to the deadly sin of pride.
Doing what we like, going our own way, insisting on our choices—that is
not the mind of Christ that the Saint Paul speaks about in the Palm Sunday
Epistle. What does the holy apostle say? “Let
this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus.” And what is this mind
of Christ? He made himself of no reputation,
and took upon him the form of a servant … and humbled Himself, and became
obedient unto death.
In other words, Our Lord did not do as He liked; He did not go His own way; He did not stubbornly
say, “No one can tell me what to do.” Instead, thanks be to God, Our Blessed
Lord Jesus willingly, freely, and gratefully submerged His thoughts and
desires, and submitted Himself to His Father’s will, trusting that Our Father
in heaven knows best.
In the Passion Narratives on Palm Sunday, Holy Tuesday, Holy Wednesday
and Good Friday, you will hear this same theme when Our Lord Jesus prays, Not as I will, but as Thou wilt. Not My
will, but Thine be done.
With those words, Our Lord not only determines to be our Savior; He also
shows us the way of salvation. He not only demonstrates that He is holy; He
also leads us in the path of holiness. And He not only conforms His will to the
Father’s will; He also indicates that, if we truly desire to attain the kingdom
of heaven, we must set aside our pride, we must put to death our stubbornness,
we must refuse to go our own way, and instead follow in the Lord’s saving path
For in His tender love for us, Our Savior Jesus Christ both put on our
flesh and suffered our death. In this way, He gained for us the salvation, the
freedom from death, the forgiveness of sins, and the life in God that we desire
and that Our Father has freely given. By His death, Our Lord opened heaven to
us and obtained what we could never obtain on our own.
Yet we can stray from this saving way. And we can damage the holiness
Our Lord gained for us if we let pride have its way by doing not what we must
but what we please.
Let us, therefore, beg the prayers of the Holy Mother of God, of the
Holy Archangel Michael, and of all the angels and saints that, aided and
defended by their holy intercessions, we may follow the example of Our Lord’s
great humility, and remain on the path of holiness by putting to death our
self-will and by living solely in the Father’s will, who has loved us in His
Son and by His Spirit with an everlastin
Fr John W Fenton
The Church and the world prepare for the Lord’s Nativity in two very different ways. And these opposing preparations reveal what each really believes.
The world prepares by putting up trees, lights and other decorations. It also offers “holiday” (or “seasonal”) parties, and thinks nothing of prematurely anticipating christmas day. The world simply can’t wait; in fact, it won’t wait. And so it barges ahead and “celebrates” christmas during the month after Thanksgiving.
The world’s excuse for barging ahead is that “christmas is for the children.” Yet it doesn’t let the children wait for chirstmas. Instead, the world indulges the children. But who are we kidding? The adults are really indulging themselves using children as an excuse; and too often, at the children’s expense.
In doing this, the world shows both its immaturity and its lack of understanding for any celebration. The world shows its immaturity by focusing on itself—its parties, its ideas of how christmas should be celebrated, and its inability to wait. And the world shows its lack of understanding because it believes that the real reason for christmas revolves around the joy it can manufacture for itself.
The Church, by contrast, celebrates not christmas but Christ’s Mass—the day we did not deserve or merit to have Our Lord God come into our flesh to bear our sin, assume our death, and be our Savior. In other words, the Church understands that the reason for Christ Mass revolves around the great and wondrous mystery of Our Lord’s coming down from heaven for us men and for our salvation.
Because of this focus, the Church fixes our attention not on self-serving joy or decorations or parties, but rather on our need to repent, fast and pray so that we might be duly prepared, in heart and mind, to welcome and receive this great gift of God’s Love. Therefore, the Church prepares her members for Christ Mass by urging them to slow down, to focus not on this world, and to meditate on the Lord and world to come.
How can we quietly pray and meditate if we are caught up in going from party to party, or in decorating the house and yard? That is a question the Church urges us to consider. But more importantly, the Church urges us to remember that the month between Thanksgiving and Christ Mass is best spent utilizing the ancient Advent discipline of fasting, prayer and confession.
This discipline helps us reset our focus so that we see that christmas is not “for the children.” Rather, Christ Mass is about the Christ Child whom we are unworthy to receive, but who gives Himself to us nevertheless so that we might leave this world and its allurements behind and be joined everlastingly to God our Father in true and holy joy.
I encourage you, then, during this Advent not to be caught up in the world and its fabricated christmas, but to prepare yourself humbly and meekly so that, with godly intensity, you may celebrate the holy Twelve Day feast of Our Lord’s Nativity.
On All Saints Day, the Church does not celebrate all those who were baptized, particularly the faithful who are still living. For the Church does not use the word “saint” lightly. Therefore, she does not refer to any or every Christian as a “saint.” Rather, the word “saint” is reserved for those who have led exemplary lives of holiness. And as a mark of their holiness, these men and women would not see themselves as saints. Rather, they would see themselves as unworthy of this honor.
It is not a mark of pride, then, but a recognition of godly humility when a person is canonized (officially recognized) as a “saint.” And it is a witness to all the faithful that we should strive not to be saints, but to live humbly, “soberly, and justly, and godly in this world, looking for the blessed hope and coming of the glory of the great God and our Savior Jesus Christ.” (Ti 2.12-13)
The greatest honor bestowed upon a saint, then, is to imitate that person’s life. And there are two things in particular that we should strive to imitate so that we might worthily commemorate the saints.
First, all saints—whether known or unknown—freely confessed Christ and His unending mercy by willingly sacrificing their life. Many of the saints made this confession by spilling their blood as martyrs. Others, however, did not receive the crown of martyrdom, but nevertheless made a great confession by sacrificing all that they had and all that they were for the love of God and the love of all men.
To commemorate the saints by imitation, then, means that we adopt this same attitude of self-sacrifice; that we become willing to give up all our possessions, all our ambitions, all our desires, even our own life if necessary, in order to attain the kingdom of heaven. That is how the saints lived and died; and we honor them by living as they did.
Secondly, all saints strove not for fame, but for humility. All of them desired to be known not for their deeds or writings. Rather, they desired simply to gain true life by losing their lives in a life dedicated to repentance. For they saw themselves as unworthy of even the least of Christ’s mercies, and so lived St. Paul’s creed: “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief.” (1 Tim 1.15)
To commemorate the saints rightly, then, means that we adopt their spirit of repentance and humility; that we strive not to impress others, but instead strive to divest ourselves of all pride and self-serving desires. To live knowing that no one is worse than we are, that all are more deserving, and that the Lord should first save everyone else, even the worst sinner—that is the saints’ spirit of humility and repentance that we should strive to imitate. And whenever we do, we truly honor them.
THE MARGINALIZED, THE OUTCAST, the different, the diseased, the stranger, the warehoused—these are the people Our Lord frequently ministers to in and holds before us as examples of living faith. And so, if we wish to be Christians (i.e., those who have Christ living through us), then we should also show intentional compassion to these same folks.
But who are they? The marginalized are the people whom we—in our mind, in our society, in our attitude—shove to the sidelines and think little of. The outcasts are the people who are dismissed and about whom we say (perhaps not with words) that they don’t deserve our time or our rights. The different are the people that we think don’t measure up to our standards of what is normal or acceptable or good. The diseased are the people whom we’re afraid to approach for fear of catching their physical, mental, emotional, or spiritual ailment. The strangers are those who come from places or cultures that we can’t or won’t understand. The warehoused are the people we shut away in care facilities or detention centers or anywhere else so that we can relieve our guilt of having to face them.
In every instance, these folks are the ignored and the invisible.
Too often, however, we not only ignore but also think that the “others” are higher maintenance and so need more of Our Lord’s time. But when we think this way, we are saying that we are the “normal people.” And that’s a mark of pride, no different from the Pharisees and others who wondered why Jesus ate and reached out and spent time with ostracized.
Yet these are precisely the folks Our Lord reaches out to. On purpose. And with compassion. In the Gospels, these folks are the publicans, the sinners, the lepers, the Samaritans. They include St Photina (the Samaritan woman at the well), St Matthew, Zacchaeus, St Mary Magdalen, the 10 lepers, the “yapping” woman who begged from crumbs from the Master’s table, and St Dismas (the “good thief” to whom Jesus promised Paradise).
No doubt, Our Lord feels for and identifies with the marginalized. Because He Himself was marginalized, outcast, and ignored. By His own people. “He came to His own and His own received Him not.” In fact, they often attacked His origin (suggesting He was a bastard), His ethnicity (saying He was from Samaria, and so not a real Jew), His education (questioning His credentials to teach), His authority (who is He to forgive sins).
Yet I think the primary reason Christ identifies and aids the marginalized is because He sees that we need them more than they need us. For in the sidelined Our Lord sees in them both a greater appreciation for His ministry and help, and therefore a greater empathy to those in a like position. And in this way, they become our teachers.
In a way that challenges our pride, it works like this. For my salvation, I must not only see the marginalized. Even more so, I must see not that they need me but that I need them! This is best expressed by the beggar who once asked why passersby were denying their way to salvation by refusing to help him.
The path to salvation, then, is a path which humbly says these words to all those whom society shoves aside: ‘I take your suffering and burden so much that it becomes my own. In taking on your travails, I become marginalized myself and then can see things differently and with more compassion, just like you do.’ That’s the real stuff that takes courage: humility to admit we need them and their suffering and perspective more than they need us and what we can offer.
That’s why Our Lord frequently ministers to folks that I tend to ignore or push aside. It’s not just because Our Lord is compassionate, nor even to show us what mercy looks like. And it is certainly not so that I can thank God for my blessings and the times of been so close to being “one of them.”
Rather, the marginalized are God’s gift to me so that I might work on my own salvation while learning from them how true compassion works.
It certainly appears and feels like our lives are very busy. One result of this apparent busyness that I’ve noticed personally—and perhaps you also—is that we are forced to prioritize our tasks. Which of the many things demanding our attention will we do?
Setting goals so that you maintain your focus on the important things is the key to all productivity apps, planners, workshops, and calendars. Know what is important, and make sure it is not pushed aside—that’s what’s crucial.
Regrettably, when we think of goals, we think selfishly—about ourselves, our work, our families. We also tend to divide life into fragments—our health life, our work life, our family life, our recreation life, our financial life, our retirement life. Into this lump of “lives” we throw “spiritual life” or “church life.”
This way of dividing life is not what Our Lord Jesus had in mind when He said, “I am the Way, the Truth and the Life” or “I am the Resurrection and the Life” or “I am the Life of the world.” With those statements, Our Lord was not begging to be a part of our life. Neither was He asking us not to forget Him in our many “lives.” And neither was He making more demands on our life.
Instead, with these statements, Our Lord urges us to think of life differently. Not as segments or “many lives” which create a whole, but to see life as Christ Himself. He says, in effect, “I am your life. Apart from Me, you can do nothing. So if I am not your whole life, you have no life.”
Our Lord urges us to think of life differently. “If I am not your whole life, you have no life.”
These words sound demanding, but they are actually quite freeing. For if we take them to heart, we no longer need to “get a grip on life”—He has a grip on us. And no longer do we need to get our “lives” to line up, or prioritize our various “lives”—for Christ Jesus is the only life we have that is worth living.
Think of it this way: In the end, what good is your financial life, your work life, your health life, etc.? While these may improve the quality of your life now, they don’t improve Life Himself, nor your living since your life is hidden with Christ in God.
Seeing Christ as your Life shapes, forms and determines all your other “lives.” So, for example, you go to work and earn money for only one reason—to live in Christ by attending Mass and helping others. And that is not just the Christian way. That is Christ Himself.
For this reason, going to church ought not be a goal. Instead, you should see it as the place where you truly live your life—the Life that Christ is, the Life that Christ lives in you. For Holy Mass is the place where you receive the only nourishment that will see you safely from this life to the life to come. So Holy Mass is the only place where you live the life that none of your other “lives” give—the eternal life that you enjoy in part now, and then fully one day face to face with Christ your Life.
Mass is the only place where you live the life
that none of your other “lives” give.
What I’m saying, then, is that in all our busyness, in all our frustrations and stresses of living life, in all our goals and priorities—let’s not lose focus. It’s so easy to do—even for me. But we must always remember not only what is important, but also what our life truly is, and what makes our life worth living. It’s not the many things we do, the stuff we can accumulate, the ladders we can climb, the goals we can achieve, or the quality we attain.
Our life and our living is Christ Jesus—whom the Holy Spirit gives us time and again most surely only in the Holy Mass.
Because of this, I urge you to keep your eyes focused on the Mass. Everything else comes and goes. Everything else fades or is used up. But the Eucharist served in the Mass remains, and always comes through.
This means that everything else that’s on our busy schedule can—and should—be sacrificed for the sake of hearing Our Lord’s Word and receiving His Holy Communion.
So when you plan, “do not look at the things which are seen, but at the [sacramental] things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal.”
For a parish that is under the patronage, and exults in the merits, of so great an Archangel, it is most fitting that we learn of his appearances in other times and places. Here is the description of one such feast that we celebrate this month.
That the blessed Archangel Michael, whose name means Who is like unto God?, is the prince of the faithful Angels who opposed Lucifer and his followers in their revolt against God. Since the devil is the sworn enemy of God’s holy Church, Saint Michael is given to it by God as its special protector against the demon’s assaults and stratagems.
Various apparitions of this powerful Angel have proved the protection of Saint Michael over the Church. We may mention his apparition in Rome, where Saint Gregory the Great saw him in the air sheathing his sword, to signal the cessation of a pestilence and the appeasement of God’s wrath. Another apparition to Saint Ausbert, bishop of Avranches in France, led to the construction of Mont-Saint-Michel in the sea, a famous pilgrimage site. May 8th, however, is destined to recall another no less marvelous apparition, occurring near Monte Gargano in the Kingdom of Naples.
In the year 492 a man named Gargan was pasturing his large herds in the countryside. One day a bull fled to the mountain, where at first it could not be found. When its hiding place in a cave was discovered, an arrow was shot into the cave, but the arrow returned to wound the one who had sent it. Faced with so mysterious an occurrence, the persons concerned decided to consult the bishop of the region. He ordered three days of fasting and prayers. After three days, the Archangel Saint Michael appeared to the bishop and declared that the cavern where the bull had taken refuge was under his protection, and that God wanted it to be consecrated under his name and in honor of all the Holy Angels.
Accompanied by his clergy and people, the bishop went to that cavern, which he found already designed in the form of a church. The divine mysteries were celebrated there, and there arose in this same place a magnificent temple where the divine Power has wrought great miracles. To thank God’s adorable goodness for the protection of the holy Archangel, the effect of His merciful Providence, this feast day was instituted by the Church in his honor.
It is said of this special guardian and protector of the Church that, during the final persecution of Antichrist, he will powerfully defend her: At that time shall Michael rise up, the great prince who protects the children of thy people. (Dan. 12:1) (Source)