From the Womb to the Tomb

At Old St. Mary Church in downtown Milwaukee, the creche is situated just below the 14th Station of the Cross where Jesus is lovingly placed in the sepulchre by his friends.  Here the birth of our Lord is placed so closely to His death.  How fitting that is for all of us live with the shadow of our death hanging ever near, never knowing when we may breathe our last, and preparing every step of the way for a holy death.  And the best way in which we can prepare for death is to take frequent advantage of the Sacrament of Reconciliation. How perfect it is that the confessional is right between the two scenes of life and death, for the forgiveness of our sins was the reason that our Lord was born and it was for this that He died.

My Savior Jesus,

From the womb to the tomb your sole purpose was to free us from the burden of our sins.  Thank you for the beauty of your birth and for the redemption that your suffering and death brought to our souls.  May we remember to frequently take advantage of Sacramental Confession and Absolution and be blessed to rejoice with You forever in heaven for this magnificent gift!

Amen,

St. Joseph-The First Priest

There is a scene in the movie The Nativity Story, with Keisha Castle-Hughes and Oscar Isaac, where, immediately following the birth of Christ, a joyous St. Joseph holds the infant within his hands, raising him high in the air. 

In watching this, it occurred to me that St. Joseph was the first priest.  I was struck by the similarities between St. Joseph in the manger and the priest at the altar, both holding the living Christ within their hands, faces joyfully exultant at the wonder of His beauty and the awesome privilege of holding our very Savior in the air.  Without speaking a word, St. Joseph seems to say "Behold!  Here is the Lamb!" These are the very words that the priest voices out loud at each and every Mass.  St. Joseph was the first man to have the honor of holding Jesus close, to love and nurture Jesus within his own heart as the Catholic priest is called to do. St. Joseph shared Jesus with the shepherds and kings in the manger as the Catholic priest shares Him with the poor and the rich at Mass.  How blessed we are by the holy, obedient, faith-filled, loving example of St. Joseph!

St. Joseph, the first priest, pray for us!

Prayer to St. Joseph over 1900 years old -from Pieta prayer book

O St. Joseph whose protection is so great, so strong, so prompt before the throne of God, I place in you all my interests and desires.  O St. Joseph, do assist me by your powerful intercession and obtain for me from your Divine Son all spiritual blessings through Jesus Christ, Our Lord; so that having engaged here below your Heavenly power I may offer my thanksgiving and homage to the loving of Fathers.  O St. Joseph, I never weary contemplating you and Jesus asleep in your arms.  I dare not approach while He reposes near your heart.  Press Him in my name and kiss His fine head for me, and ask Him to return the kiss when I draw My dying breath.  St. Joseph, patron of departing souls, pray for us.  Amen.

The Mark of Our Mother

The Bender family has a new addition to our household!  Last fall, Justin came home with a tabby cat, Roo. We all fell in love with our sweet little pet, including my husband, who mysteriously overcame his "cat allergy" once Roo moved in.

There's a legend about tabby cats regarding the letter "M" that can be seen on their foreheads. As the story goes, when Jesus was born, He was so cold in the manger that the Blessed Mother struggled to keep Him warm.  All of the farm animals moved closer to the creche, hoping that their breath would bring warmth to the Child, but still, the Babe continued to shiver and cry. Then a tabby cat jumped right into the manger next to our Lord and his body heat and rhythmic purring soon lulled the Infant Christ to sleep.  The Blessed Mother was so grateful, that as she patted the cat's head in gratitude, she left the mark of the letter "M" upon his forehead.  To this day, all tabby cats carry the mark of the Blessed Mother upon their heads.

Like the tabby cat, we too, bring warmth to the Christ Child with each act of kindness that we do for love of Him.  When we attend Mass with reverence, spend time in Eucharistic Adoration of our Lord, generously give to those who have not, spread joy with a friendly smile, share our faith with children, visit those who are ill, mourn and pray for those who have died or give Christian love in any other possible way, we are pleasing the Blessed Mother who so deeply longs for Her Son to be known and loved in this world.  And so, in gratitude, she leaves her mark upon us as well, sheltering us under the shadow of her protection and within the gaze of her loving eyes.  We are forever her children and we are blessed by the mark of her love.

You can be sure that during my Advent preparations this year I'll be searching for a tabby cat to grace my nativity set so that for the first time, my Christmas creche will truly be complete!  

(P.S. Dear Reader, did you find this post to be a shameless sharing of cat pictures?  If so, please forgive the indulgence!  I do love that adorable cat!)

St. Francis Preaches to the Birds

A dear friend of mine recently gave me a generous and thoughtful gift; a beautiful golden embossed picture of St. Francis of Assisi preaching to the birds.  After hanging it in a place of honor in my home, I spent some time learning about the story behind the picture so as to enhance my prayer whenever I would look upon it.  I came across the words that St. Francis spoke to the feathered creatures and found them to be not only very touching but also a great source of inspiration to prayers of thanksgiving.  He said:

"My little sisters, the birds, much bounden are ye unto God, your Creator, and always in every place ought ye to praise Him, for that He hath given you liberty to fly about everywhere, and hath also given you double and triple rainment; moreover He preserved your seed in the ark of Noah, that your race might not perish out of the world; still more are ye beholden to Him for the element of the air which He hath appointed for you; beyond all this, ye sow not, neither do you reap; and God feedeth you, and giveth you the streams and fountains for your drink; the mountains and valleys for your refuge and the high trees whereon to make your nests; and because ye know not how to spin or sow, God clotheth you, you and your children; wherefore your Creator loveth you much, seeing that He hath bestowed on you so many benefits; and therefore, my little sisters, beware of the sin of ingratitude, and study always to give praises unto God."

Now as another year comes to a close I find a fair share of difficulties and worries, not only in my own personal life but also in the common life of our country and world, that are sure to cross the threshold of tomorrow and remain for quite a while, and my heart and soul feel weighted with sorrow and frustration.  It's hard to fly with the freedom of the winged birds when the heaviness of heartache holds me back.

So I gaze upon that lovely image of holy St. Francis and I imagine him speaking to me like he spoke to the birds, reminding me to always thank God my creator for my many blessings-for my family, my home, my job, my health, my friends, my faith.  And realizing that I am greatly blessed, I understand that God will always see to it that all of my spiritual and material needs are met, that I will have just enough but not too much, that He will always be with me in all times, places and situations and that His love is strong enough to billow me up as I strive to take flight toward His will for me regardless of how weary I may become, and for that I give thanks and praise to God.

(listen to  St. Francis Preaches to the Birds by Franz Liszt)

The Wonder of the Incarnation by Bishop Hying

Because Christ entered into human history, the apostles proclaimed the Gospel to the ends of the earth, martyrs gave up their lives rather than their faith and a new philosophical understanding of the person emerged.

Because of Christmas, soaring cathedrals rose over Europe, universities and hospitals opened their doors and missionaries sailed across oceans in wooden ships.

Because of what we celebrate today, four churchwomen were murdered in El Salvador for their stance with the poor, a pope sold his fisherman’s ring to aid a slum in Brazil and a wrinkled woman in a sari lovingly pulled dying people out of gutters.

The church has never gotten over the wonder of the Incarnation, the startling truth that, in the person of Jesus Christ, this one specific human being living at one historical point in time in a precise geographical place expressed in the fullest possible way the union of God and human nature.

God had entered his own creation to redeem it and restore it from the inside. In his mystical theology, St. Bonaventure expresses this burning, passionate love of God who desires nothing less than complete identification with every human being.

Christmas changes everything! If God is one with us through the power of Christ’s Spirit, alive and active through the church, life is radically different for us. God is not out there somewhere, unreachable and unknowable.

In the tender vulnerability of Christ’s humanity, God has completely united his life with ours. This enfleshed Divine Word has become the language of our own human experience; Jesus explains us to ourselves.

How telling it is that Mary and Joseph could not find a room for the birth of Jesus. In a world of sin, violence, sorrow and selfishness, there was no room for this tiny, warm God who had come only to love and heal.

Is there any more room for God today? Is there space for justice and peace? Is there room for prayer and virtue? Does God truly hold center place in our lives and our global society? If we sometimes feel that God has been pushed into the corner, then it is to the corner that we must go.

There is a tendency within us to want to clean up the Christ story, to make it respectable, orderly and dignified. In so many ways, it was none of that. God was born of an itinerant mother in an animal shelter with smelly manure and dirty shepherds. God died on a bloody cross, scourged and rejected, cut off as one accursed.

We cannot romanticize the Christian narrative without decreasing its potent reality. God comes to us in all of the messiness and lunacy of the real world to save us as we are, not to redeem some idealized version of ourselves.

The Incarnation of Christ powerfully proclaims the humility and vulnerability of God. Setting aside the majesty, glory and safety of heaven, the eternal Word empties himself completely, assumes the radical limitations of our humanity and runs the terrible risk of being misunderstood, rejected and killed by his own creatures!

Divine Love gives itself away in a total act of self-donation. In the Christ event, we grasp the very essence of God, who pours himself out completely for us.

As disciples of this passionate, incarnate Christ, our lives, too, will be marked by humility and vulnerability. How else can we love others with this self-emptying divine life unless we leave our comfort zones and surrender our insulating pride? How else can we give birth to the Word unless we go to the dark corners of this world?

Yes, the manure will smell, the shepherds will be uncouth, the stable will be cold, the scourging will tear our flesh, and the cross will kill us. Often, the way of Jesus makes no rational sense at all, and we do our best to live the pieces of it that we can. But Christmas challenges us to go all the way. Have a blessed one!

(Previously published in the December 22nd, 2005 and December 22nd, 2011 Milwaukee Catholic Herald and reprinted here with the permission of Bishop Hying)

Kneeling in the Manger

These final days before Christmas bring exhaustion as the work of preparing to make merry brings wear and tear to my body and my soul. In spite of my weariness, I lie awake with worry heavy on my heart for my son who'd been sick with a sore throat earlier this month who has developed unusual complications. He had been fatigued and burning with fever, throat bright red and raw, yet he quickly healed as the virus seemed to move out of his body. Except it didn't. We didn't realize that the infection simply took up residence in a lymph node which generously shared its infective germs with the muscle in Joe's neck. Now with neck swollen to the size of a tennis ball, the pain rages from ear to sternum and my son can't move his head at all for the suffering he bears. Antibiotics should surely bring effective healing but the threat of an emergency room visit on Christmas Eve looms over our heads if that healing doesn't happen quickly.

In the middle of the night, I silently step into my son's room and kneel at the side of his bed, listening to his breath coming heavy and deep, and I offer a wordless prayer, just a movement of the heart in God's direction, a prayer that is for both of my sons who sleep in that room, as morning will bring a final psychological examination as part of the application process for seminary for my oldest son and I know that he carries stress and worry in his heart over that process-over the fear of the unknown-both regarding what the test will be like and whether or not he will be accepted to the seminary. My heart is heavy with a mother's love.

And I think of Mary and Joseph kneeling in the manger, cold and hungry, tired and scared, in prayer and adoration for their Son, the King. Fear and worry surely must have gripped their hearts as well-fear of the unknown abiding side by side with a deep love for their child. Were they, like me, unable to find words of prayer? Were they simply opening their hearts to God's presence in trustful surrender to whatever His plan would bring for their lives? I know the answer to my question is yes; they did surrender wholly to God's plan and so I will, too.

I will let my worry and my sorrow go and I will cling to peaceful trust in God as an offering for all of those who have larger worries this Christmas-for those who have suffered the loss of a loved one at this time of year when they want more than ever to be in the presence of those they love, for all of the clients who come to the WIC Clinic in droves trying to find some financial assistance to provide healthy foods for their families as their pocketbooks are strained by the burden of buying gifts, for those families who spend Christmas in the hospital kneeling at the bedside of their children who are ill with serious diseases such as cancer, for parents whose children have rebelled against their authority, against the law and against God and have brought the wounds of deep and cutting pain to the hearts of those who love them, and for all of those who feel a searing loneliness within-for all of these people, too, are kneeling in the manger.

My sorrow and worry is small and placed in the hands of God it is quickly overshadowed by His great love. Kneeling in the manger of my sons' room as they sleep I know that my blessings far outweigh my struggles and with Mary and Joseph to accompany me on my life's journey I will surely be able to bear whatever sorrows come my way by following their example of trustful surrender to the Holy Will of God.

Santa's Prayer on Christmas Eve

Today I received a Christmas Card from my friend Janet, and inside the card, she had tucked this wonderful prayer. I had never seen this before, but was deeply moved and knew that this should be shared.























Santa's Prayer on Christmas Eve

The sleigh was all packed, the reindeer were fed,
But Santa still knelt by the side of the bed.

"Dear Father," he prayed "Be with me tonight,
There's much work to do and my schedule is tight.

I must jump in my sleigh and streak through the sky,
Knowing full well that a reindeer can't fly.

I will visit each household before the first light,
I'll cover the world and all in one night.

With sleighbells a-ringing, I'll land on each roof,
Amid the soft clatter of each little hoof.

To get in the house is the difficult part,
So I'll slide down the chimney of each child's heart.

My sack will hold toys to grant all their wishes.
The supply will be endless like the loaves and the fishes.

I will fill all the stockings and not leave a track.
I'll eat every cookie that is left for my snack.

I can do all these things Lord, only through You.
I just need your blessing, then it's easy to do.

All this is to honor the birth of the One,
That was sent to redeem us, Your most Holy Son.

So to all of my friends, least Your glory I rob,
Please, Lord, remind them who gave me this job."

~Warren D. Jennings

Last night our family was treated to the best school Christmas program we have ever seen. The program was called "The Best Christmas Present Ever!" My daughter Mary had a little solo-isn't she cute?

The program was created by Celeste Clydesdale and arranged by David T. Clydesdale. The gist of the story was that a group of children were trying to plan a birthday party for the baby Jesus and had asked a non-believing newscaster to help promote the party, and by the time the party was over, the newscaster was now a believer as well.

At the end of the program, several narrators recited the Christmas Story ala Linus from A Charlie Brown Christmas. Listening to them speak, I began to choke up. As they recited the familiar gospel story, the children who were portraying the Holy Family and their guests arrived on stage. The angel had a smile on her face that could have lit up the whole room without her halo! But by far, the show stealer was a little boy in the second grade who then sang "Happy Birthday, Jesus" in a sweet and sincere voice. Before he stepped away from the microphone, he whispered, "I love you, Jesus."

That was it, the tears began to flow. Had I payed a fortune to attend a professional Christmas Program, I don't think I would have seen a better show, or one that moved me as deeply. I am so grateful to have had this opportunity to celebrate Christmas in this way, and I pray that all of you, dear friends, will also find that your heart is moved by simple joys in this Holy Season. A Blessed Christmas, everyone!