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nonokoko13 · 2 years ago

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SXF Chapter 65

Hi! How are you doing? Hope you are well. It's been a while since I last made review, I kinda missed it haha. I thought it wouldn't take me too much to analyze it but it ended up being longer than I expected, hope you enjoy yourself as much as I did when I read this chapter!

TW: Mild swearing in some parts. Sorry, I'm quite foul-mouthed

Of course, this has spoilers from spy x family's manga, I warned you. Now, let's go onto it!

This analysis continues here and here

Everything starts with Anya asking Yor to buy her "crunchy tea cakes" and then remembering what Damian told her about a cake. Anya seems to think only about pastries last chapters and honestly? Can't blame her lol

Seems like Anya's perception about Damian seems to be the same as usual, because in previous POV flashbacks she always imagine him with the most clown-ish face and an OOC personality. Not Bond having trauma related thoughts after he ate Yor's homemade cookies here 😭😂

While she goes on her way to buy sweets it occurs that habit of hers of thinking that the insignificant, harmless thing is related to killing and/or getting arrested by the SSS, just because she doesn't know where to find the crunchiest tea cakes.

Poor woman doesn't get herself any time to relax and stop overthinking everything, tbh very relatable. I would say it's her signature mood but seems that all the Forgers do it, only that with each one the consequences are different (Yor thinking they'll hand her to the SSS or just thinking everything is related to killing/death, Anya thinking she'll go to the orphanage again and Loid... Loid thinks of almost every type of consequences really, the major one that Operation Strix fails tho)

This panel is obvious foreshadowing, it was seeing it and I thought "So this is where it is going..."

Yor still has doubts about what it's normal, aka accepted by society about who you are or what you have to do in your everyday life to be considered so.

It's sad this is actually something that many people suffers this insecurity irl, the main problem that Yor has is that she hasn't realized yet that there is no universal truth as a "normal" way to act upon or live like and normal is just what a bunch of people from a certain place think it's like. Moreover, it's just a really reaally subjective concept that it's wrongly used to describe what's usual and/or morally acceptable in the eyes of those who use this term. Note to say, these three words are not the same, but they're usually switched with one another.

Hope she'll someday reach that conclusion and just behave as she pleases while she doesn't do anything illegal like letting Anya drive with her age

Heading to the pastry shop, she saves a woman who I knew she will later interact more with. Gotta say, if Yor hasn't gone to the rescue not only those things inside the boxes would have been spoiled/broken, but Melinda could have died or get severely injured falling from the stairs is serious business fr

Also, it will sound silly but when I saw Melinda's face here it reminded me of Sylvia since both have triangular/"teardrop" eye shape. Yor looking cute as usual

Melinda invites Yor to join her and her friends from the lady patriots society to an all-mothers volleyball game,and with this we can the three human members of the Forgers have played at least once in a sports "tournament". Actually 4 counting Yor VS Fiona tennis match, but that was just a "friendly" game. Bond, you're next

Gotta say she looks great on the volleyball uniform, but it called my attention how she blushes and gets all flustered when she realizes she's wearing shorts. Looking back on time she has always been shown wearing dresses, skirts and in one of the "extra: Yor fashion week" outfits a pair of trousers, all of them being at least covering up around the knees.

Is it because of the mentality of that time about not showing too much [leg in this case] or is she just easy to get embarrassed? It might be both idk, it just surprised me her reaction as I didn't think she would be the type to get scandalous about not covering too much, although seeing how easy she got embarrassed with Yuri's speech and Loid's attempt of seduction I should have seen it coming. I wonder how she'd react to someone who wears often like that, but knowing how kind she is she probably wouldn't treat them different from others, only getting embarrassed when she wears something like that. Or I'm just overthinking and it doesn't go that far her reaction and I shouldn't have needed two whole damm paragraphs for this lmao

Getting back at the chapter, seems that despite her strength and overall non-human physical abilities her team lost towards the Northside team, goddammit!

Tbh it was predictable with how many times Yor must have breaken rules, I mean it's remarked twice so

But hey! They had fun, that's all matters!

After the battle Yor opens up a bit with the mommies and confess that she doesn't know what to do neither as mother and wife, which the group relates to and reassures her that not knowing what to do is normal, a light-hearted moment and something that many people should hear (specially those in their 20s when you are turning adult-ish and think that you should have figured out your entire life by then, a big mistake we make, a harmful thought that we as society reinforce and a big struggle that I can relate myself)

With the warm moment comes the unexpected plot twist. I was too emerged on the Yor getting friends scheme to see it coming until they brought up the kids topic and I went from "Ooh" to "OOOOOOH" with this

Being aware that she's a Desmond, I have to say:

1. After reading it I saw many reactions and users talking about this chapter and some were surprised that Mrs Desmond were such a seemingly kind person. Which? Honestly?? I thought it was going to be the case so it didn't surprise me.

I mean, in this post I talked about my theories regarding Mrs Desmond, mostly her marriage and her role in the family, and although I didn't said that she was going to be a saint I speculate she could be the cheerful, loving member that the Desmond's household so much needs.

With this I believed that in order to balance her husband's cold and reclusive behavior she could be the opposite: a woman who in public surrounds herself of people and is or seems to be friendly with everyone, perhaps sharing personality traits with Damian and not only her looks (which now seems possible).

Being nice towards strangers or your friends doesn't define a person as a good parent, good person ≠ good mother, so we'll have to wait until we see more of her and her sons and pray that Damian has at least one good and loving figure in his life.

2. The Illuminati-like symbol in both her earrings and ring makes me believe she may be related with a third party. We know WISE and SSS, and that symbol doesn't belong to any of them, so it may be an organization led or supported by the Desmonds?

SSS technically isn't a spy organization, more like a state service, and I always wonder if there's a East counterpart of the western spy agency, maybe this is the hint of a East WISE's existence? It would be so fun if I got the idea of Melinda being a spy or some sort of physical/strategical trained person right.

3. Talking about symbols and organizations, if you reread the chapter or this post it's said that Melinda is a member of the lady patriots society. Given that patriotism is often how conservative/right wing parties describe themselves I think this could have also been a foreshadowing of Melinda being Mrs Desmond, since Donovan is the leader of the National Unity Party (which seems to be leaning to right wing); also a nice detail that let's you wonder what do the moms do or talk about apart from playing sports and making tea parties. Would be their political ideology as extremist as Donovan's seems to be?

4. When the fuck are we going to meet Demetrius. Seriously, everyone or at least those who remember he exists are waiting to confirm if he got Melinda's looks or if he's going to be the second sleep paralysis demon of this fandom alongside his Frankenstein progenitor. To think I believed he would make his appearance before his mother 🤡🤡🤡

5. Calling Melinda already as Yor's friend and stating how Yor has achieved the goal Anya and Loid searched isn't quite right. Don't get me wrong, I want Yor to make friends (because her coworkers are kinda bitches and as much as Camilla taught her how to make a stew in one occasion doesn't redeem how disrespectful and mean she has been with Yor); Twilight has Frankie, Anya has Becky, it's about time Yor has friends on her own. The fact that she has been able to meet with a Desmond is half of the goal already achieved, true.

But that just hasn't completely happened yet: Melinda and Yor just met, Yor was asked to join them as a way to thank her for her help and because Melinda was amazed by Yor, they are talking to each other rn. It's not finished yet, more like a ongoing first meeting.

Also, did you see what happened when Melinda remembers where she heard the name Forger before? Maybe it's just me, but those three panels focused on her face/eyes. The "dust motes" on the air. The way she leaves the cup of tea and introduces herself, going from shocked to a returned yet different smile.

There was a shift in her behavior. I know it.

As if she's with her guard up, or she's aware who she's dealing with. You cannot convince she didn't change her behavior and switched to a sudden more calm, polite attitude. Doesn't it ring a bell?

It gives similar if not the same vibes as Loid when he met Donovan, knowing he had to be careful with what he says and doesn't let the other what are his intentions. It's just, that smile, THE smile,, I have seen it too many times before and the ones who smile the calmest are usually the ones you shouldn't believe.

"Looks like she can kill you, _______" meme vibes right there. Is she the brain behind the main boss in the series rn? Is she a spy or some kind of manipulate person who disguises their true colors like one? Or not?

Moreover, in both Mr and Mrs Desmond introductions Anya wasn't there so there's no way to know what Donovan was really thinking then, and it seems we won't know Melinda's thoughts either.

This cliffhanger gives more questions than answers, what did Melinda remembered about the Forgers? Did she only think about incident between Anya and Damian, or did also Donovan told her his meeting with Loid and now she's suspicious about how two Forgers, now three, has found a way to meet her family?

That fascination Melinda had about Yor abilities who helped her while she performed maneuvers with boxes can change quickly. From a random kind stranger you have nothing to do with seems pure casualty you met, you think WOW, not much thought about it; but when it's the mother who raised a kid with such strength that they threw your kid to a wall? It's a matter of perceptions and the information you have about the other which distorts the general impression you have.

I hope this is just another of Endo's tricks where he wants to make us suspicious of Melinda and she ends up being as sweet as she was in the beginning, that Yor gets to be genuine friends with her or any of the moms there (although knowing who Melinda is affiliated with I'm not sure if Yor making friends there is a good idea), but as for now I don't trust her, I just, nope. Neither I discard all those ladies may be wonderful as friends, but let's not jump into conclusions and gets our expectations up.

All in all I can't wait to read the next chapter to find out how things will turn out with Yor and Melinda. Praying that it will work out just fine 🛐

#spy x family #sxf #chapter 65 #yor forger #anya forger #loid forger {mentioned}#damian desmond {mentioned}#spoilers #melinda desmond #bond forger #manga review

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pamphletstoinspire · 4 years ago

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The Saints Can Teach Us How to Forgive

It goes against our sinful human nature to renounce vengeance and to leave our malefactors unpunished, but this is what is expected of us. “‘Vengeance is mine; I will repay,’ says the Lord.” (Rom. 12:19). This very difficult teaching was obeyed by the saints — although in some cases, not without much struggle — and we must also heed it.

The first Christian martyr, St. Stephen, gives us a powerful example of Christian forgiveness. The Acts of the Apostles tells how he was stoned to death for his fearless proclamation of the Gospel. His last words were “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” (Acts 7:60)

This was also the sentiment expressed by the virgin and martyr St. Maria Goretti, who was murdered in 1902. Maria was assaulted by a neighboring youth named Alessandro Serenelli; when she resisted his sexual advances, the enraged youth repeatedly stabbed her. Before dying in a hospital the following day, Maria expressed her forgiveness of Alessandro.

St. John Vianney noted, “The saints have no hatred, no bitterness; they forgive everything, and think they deserve much more for their offenses against God.” For example, St. Louis IX, who reigned as King of France for thirty-five years, was known for his mercy and impartial justice and even forgave members of the nobility who unsuccessfully rebelled against his rule.

The founder of the Society of Jesus, St. Ignatius of Loyola, once walked a hundred miles during the winter to nurse a man who had fallen ill — a man who, only a few weeks earlier, had stolen Ignatius’s meager savings.

During the persecution of the Church by Queen Elizabeth I of England, the priest and martyr St. Edmund Campion was betrayed and arrested; while in prison, he was visited by the man who had betrayed him. Not only did Edmund forgive his betrayer; he also urged him to leave England, where he might be in danger himself, and gave him a letter of safe-conduct to a Catholic nobleman in Germany.

Our Lord’s parable of the unforgiving servant (Matt. 18:23-35) reminds us that if we insist on strict justice in the cases of those who’ve sinned against us, we will also be held fully liable for our own far greater offenses against the infinite majesty of God. Because the saints were so honest in admitting their own sins, it became very easy and natural for them to forgive the offenses of others.

How can we learn to control our natural tendency to lash out against those who hurt us? After all, our sincere desire to practice Christian forgiveness can, under certain circumstances, easily be overwhelmed by strong feelings of rage or personal affront. Tsixteenth-century priest St. Philip Neri suggested that we practice controlling our emotions: we pretend that we’ve just suffered terrible insults or misfortune and then imagine ourselves imitating Christ’s example by bearing these burdens with patience and charity. This sort of rehearsing will eventually make it easier for us automatically to respond in a more loving way to real affronts.

Also, as St. Augustine notes, “There are many kinds of alms, the giving of which helps us to obtain pardon for our sins; but none is greater than that by which we forgive from our heart a sin that someone has committed against us.”

In God’s eyes the most dignified or noble response to an injury is to turn the other cheek.

One night two thieves stole the oxen that belonged to the hermit St. Philip of Zell, but in trying to escape, they got lost in the woods, and at sunrise, to their great dismay, they found themselves back in front of Philip’s hermitage. The saint emerged, knowing what had happened, and the confused and frightened thieves begged his forgiveness. Philip welcomed and reassured them, and let them go — but only after feeding them. As these examples show, true Christian forgiveness isn’t meant to be only a religious concept, but a way of life.

Sometimes forgiving those who wrong us can set the stage for miracles of grace. As St. John of the Cross said, “Where there is no love, pour love in, and you will draw out love,” and several examples verify the truth of this observation. For instance, the thirteenth-century priest St. Peregrine Laziosi was quite irreligious as a youth and actively involved himself in a political movement against the Church. The Pope sent St. Philip Benizi to mediate a dispute, but he was accosted by Peregrine, who struck him in the face. When St. Philip responded simply by obeying our Lord’s teaching to turn the other cheek (Luke 6:29), the future St. Peregrine immediately repented of what he had done and converted to Catholicism.

The great bishop of Geneva, St. Francis de Sales, was intensely hated by a lawyer there, who shot at the saint; he missed Francis, but struck a priest who was standing with him. Accordingly, the would-be assassin was sentenced to death. Francis, however, pleaded on his behalf, and his death sentence was commuted. Even so, the lawyer showed no gratitude, but actually spat in Francis’s face. The saint responded sadly, “I have been able to save you from human justice, but unless you change your dispositions, you will fall into the hands of Divine Justice, from which no power can save you.” As St. Francis shows us, the fact that not everyone will accept our offer of forgiveness doesn’t excuse us from the obligation of extending it.

Is it always easy to forgive others? Certainly not. Anger is a powerful emotion, and even saints can be tempted by a desire for revenge, but they simply try harder to use the help God provides to overcome these feelings. When his father and brothers were murdered, Bl. Peter of Pisa wanted to leave his monastery and avenge their deaths, but his sister Bl. Clare Gambacorta aided him in rising above this temptation. By fervent prayer and with the help of his sister’s example, Peter arrived at the point where he could sincerely forgive the murderers.

An even more dramatic conversion and act of mercy involved St. John Gualbert. John’s older brother Hugh was murdered by someone pretending to be a friend. John swore vengeance, and one day encountered his unarmed enemy in a narrow passage that allowed no room for escape. Drawing his sword, John advanced, but was surprised when the murderer fell to his knees and crossed his arms on his breast. This posture reminded John of how Christ forgave His enemies while on the Cross. Profoundly moved, John put away his sword, embraced his enemy, and left him in peace. (It’s said that John then went to a church to pray, and the image of Christ on the crucifix there miraculously bowed its head in recognition of John’s sincere repentance and his act of forgiving his enemy.)

John Gualbert, like every other saint before and after him, came to realize the absolutely essential need to forgive our enemies, for Christ will reign only in a heart that seeks to be at peace.

For Further Reflection

“If you are suffering from a bad man’s injustice, forgive him, lest there be two bad men.” — St. Augustine

“Pardon one another so that later on you will not remember the injury. The recollection of an injury is itself wrong. It adds to our anger, nurtures our sin, and hates what is good. It is a rusty arrow and poison for the soul. It puts all virtue to flight.” — St. Francis of Paola

“I cannot believe that a soul which has arrived so near to Mercy itself, where she knows what she is, and how many sins God has forgiven her, should not instantly and willingly forgive others, and be pacified and wish well to everyone who has injured her, because she remembers the kindness and favors our Lord has shown her, whereby she has seen proofs of exceeding great love, and she is glad to have an opportunity offered to show some gratitude to her Lord.” — St. Teresa of Avila

FR. JOSEPH M. ESPER

#foregivness

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romancatholicreflections · 6 years ago

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11th November >> Fr. Martin's Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Mark 12:38-44 for the Thirty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B: ‘She has put in everything she possessed’.

Thirty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B.

Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Mark 12:38-44

This poor widow has put in more than all

In his teaching Jesus said, ‘Beware of the scribes who like to walk about in long robes, to be greeted obsequiously in the market squares, to take the front seats in the synagogues and the places of honour at banquets; these are the men who swallow the property of widows, while making a show of lengthy prayers. The more severe will be the sentence they receive.’

He sat down opposite the treasury and watched the people putting money into the treasury, and many of the rich put in a great deal. A poor widow came and put in two small coins, the equivalent of a penny. Then he called his disciples and said to them, ‘I tell you solemnly, this poor widow has put more in than all who have contributed to the treasury; for they have all put in money they had over, but she from the little she had has put in everything she possessed, all she had to live on.’

Gospel (USA)

Mark 12:38–44

This poor widow put in more than all the others.

In the course of his teaching Jesus said to the crowds, “Beware of the scribes, who like to go around in long robes and accept greetings in the marketplaces, seats of honor in synagogues, and places of honor at banquets. They devour the houses of widows and, as a pretext recite lengthy prayers. They will receive a very severe condemnation.”

He sat down opposite the treasury and observed how the crowd put money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. A poor widow also came and put in two small coins worth a few cents. Calling his disciples to himself, he said to them, “Amen, I say to you, this poor widow put in more than all the other contributors to the treasury. For they have all contributed from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has contributed all she had, her whole livelihood.”

Reflections (4)

(i) Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

I have often been struck by the quiet heroism of people, their unassuming goodness and generosity of spirit. These are people who live below most people’s radar. They never feature in any of our media outlets. I am aware of many such good and generous people here in the parish. I become especially aware of such people on the occasion of their death. I sit with the family of the deceased and they speak to me about their loved one who has died. I am often greatly touched by what they have to say. They speak about the simple, ordinary, things that their loved ones did throughout the lives. What made these simple, ordinary deeds so special was that they came from a loving, generous, heart.

I was reminded of those people of unassuming goodness by today’s gospel reading. There are two very distinct parts to that reading, and they stand in very sharp contrast to each other. The first part features a group of influential and powerful men, the religious experts of their day, the scribes. Jesus speaks of them as people who like to promote themselves, who like to be seen, who look for honour from others. Yet behind this outward show, there lurks a heart that stands ready to exploit the vulnerable. Jesus accuses them of swallowing the property of widows. The second part of the gospel reading features a poor widow, a representative of the very group that the scribes exploiting. Whereas the scribes went out of their way to be noticed, this widow would normally have gone completely unnoticed by others. Yet, Jesus noticed her and he made sure that his disciples noticed her, calling them over and drawing their attention to her. Jesus noticed what others would have missed. He noticed her extraordinary, yet almost invisible, generosity. She placed a very small amount of money into the Temple treasury, two small coins, the equivalent of a penny. Yet in putting in that tiny sum into the treasury, she was putting in all she had to live on. What was tiny in monetary terms was enormous on the scale of human generosity. The penny she gave to the service of God in the Temple was, literally, her last penny. Whereas Jesus warns his disciples away from the attitude displayed by the scribes, he clearly wants them to learn from the attitude of this widow. Jesus holds her up to his disciples as their teacher. ‘Learn from her’, he is saying. Where this episode is placed in Mark’s gospel is significant. Jesus is in the Temple in Jerusalem. He has just cleansed the Temple, incurring great hostility from the religious leaders, including the scribes, for doing so. He is just about to begin the journey of his passion and death. At the end of that journey, he will give his life, his all, out of love for God and humanity. Jesus must have seen something of himself in this widow who gave her all out of love for God.

Just as Jesus held up this widow to his disciples to learn from, he continues to hold her up to all of us today. I was reading a book recently by a Jesuit priest. He spoke about a Sister of Mercy who taught him when he was a child in primary school. She prepared himself and his classmates for first confession and first holy communion. On the occasion of his first holy communion, he received a bone china holy water font of the Madonna and Child. One day he dropped it in the school yard and it broke in pieces. This sister immediately collected all the bits of the holy water font piece by piece, and put her arms around him to comfort him. Some weeks later, she called him to her office and gave him back the font restored to its former glory. She had clearly spent hours and hours piecing it all back together again for him. Many years later, now a priest, he went to visit her. She was now aged ninety and clearly hadn’t very long to live. She said to him that, while she was frightened of pain, she wasn’t fearful of death. She said that she was looking forward to meeting Christ face to face, and, hopefully, hear him say to her, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant – with what you had, you did your best’. I was struck by that phrase, ‘with what you had, you did your best’. The widow in the gospel reading had very little, but she did her best with what she had. What any one of us has can often vary from one moment in our lives to another. There are times when we seem to have a lot, whether it is of financial resources, or health, or energy, or imagination, or ideas. There are other times in our lives when, for a whole variety of reasons, we seem to have very little. Our health may not be great; we sense we have run out of energy and enthusiasm; we feel below par in all kinds of ways. At such times, we can be tempted to judge ourselves rather harshly. Yet, today’s gospel reading reminds that all the Lord asks of us is that we do our best with what we have at the time, even if what we have is very little, perhaps no more than the equivalent of the widow’s penny.

And/Or

(ii) The Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

We know from our own experience that the value of a gift does not depend on the amount of money that was spent to buy it. People can put a lot of thought into a gift that costs very little. Others can somewhat thoughtlessly spend a lot of money on a gift. We tend to value more the gift into which a lot of thought has gone than the gift that was expensive. A bunch of flowers that we have invested time and energy in cutting from the fields and that we personally hand over can mean more than the most expensive bouquet that is delivered by courier. When the gift contains something of the person giving it, we appreciate its worth.

In the gospel reading, Jesus observes two kinds of gifts being given to the temple treasury. Some put a great deal of money into the treasury. Yet, it was the widow’s gift of two small pennies that caught Jesus’ eye. Even thought her small gift was worth little, one sixty fourth of a day’s wages to be exact, it was the most valuable gift of all, because in giving that small sum, she gave her livelihood – she gave her life. Jesus very deliberately points her out to his disciples; he called them over and addressed them in strong tones, ‘I tell you solemnly…’ he says. Just on one occasion he pointed to a child as the teacher of his disciples, on this occasion he points to the extraordinary generosity of the widow, a member of one of the most vulnerable groups in Jewish society. Jesus was within a few weeks of his passion and death, when he would be called upon to give everything he had, his whole life. Perhaps he saw in this widow an image of what was soon to be asked of him. He clearly saw her as the kind of inspirational figure his disciples could learn a great deal from.

It is very likely that if Jesus had not pointed out this widow to his disciples, they would not have paid any attention to her. Unlike the scribes who made it their business to be as visible as possible, and about whom Jesus is very critical in today’s gospel, this window was one of the invisible people of the time. The passage reminds us that it is often the people who are least noticed who have the most to teach us. The quality of their goodness and generosity is never on public display; it is hidden and more often than not it goes unrecognized. We live among such people without always knowing it. We may hear things about them after they have died that we never suspected while they lived. The gospel reading suggests that the quality of goodness and generosity that is invisible to us is always visible to the Lord. He notices even if we do not.

The widow, in putting her two small coins into the temple treasury, believed that she was giving to God. It was to God that she wanted to give her whole livelihood, her life. Even though Jesus was very critical of the temple and of those who were responsible for it, there is nothing in the gospel reading to suggest that Jesus thought the woman was misguided in giving everything she had to the temple treasury. In a sense, she shows what it means to live the first and the greatest commandment that was the focus of the gospel reading a couple of Sundays ago. She loved God with all her heart, soul, mind and strength. She gave expression to that love in the only way she knew. Jesus recognized that. God was the focal point of her giving. The gospel reading suggests that in the case of those who gave large sums of money to the temple treasure, the focal point of their giving was much more themselves. Their giving was, ultimately, an investment in their own honour and recognition. One of the more subtle temptations that we all have to fight against is the temptation to be self-serving in our self-giving. We give with a view to receiving. We are less likely to fall into this temptation if, like the widow, God remains the focus of our giving. Rather than giving to receive, we give because we have received; we give back to God out of what God has given to us.

By putting all she had to live on into the temple treasury, the vulnerable widow was, in a sense, making herself more vulnerable. It takes extraordinary trust in God to go out on a limb to the extent she did. Deep within her, she must have trusted that God would provide. In the first reading, another widow hesitated initially to share the little she and her son had with Elijah who had asked for something to eat and drink. She was vulnerable enough without making herself more vulnerable. Elijah assured her that if she shared the little she had, God would provide for her. It is in giving that she would receive.

This is the core of the gospel message; it is in giving that we receive, it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. ‘Give and it will be given to you’, Jesus says in Luke’s gospel, ‘a good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap’. The giving Jesus refers to there is not only the giving of money. Our generous giving can take many forms. For some, it may take the form of forgiving someone who has done them wrong, for others it may take the form of serving people with whatever gifts the Lord has given them. Whatever forms our giving takes, let both widows in today’s readings be our teachers.

And/Or

(iii) Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

Most of us have probably negative memories of school or college examinations. Coming up to exams is always a pressured time. We often come away from exams with a feeling that we may not have done ourselves justice. Examinations are very much part and parcel of college and school life. Yet, many feel that there are a limited means of assessing knowledge and understanding. That is one of the reasons why various forms of continuous assessment have become more popular in school and college life. End of year examinations are probably better at assessing ability than at assessing effort. Very able people who may not do much work can do very well in examinations, whereas those who work hard but are less able can do poorly. Exams may be better at measuring how much people have, in terms of ability, rather than how much people give, in terms of effort.

There is not always a close relationship between ability and effort, between what people have and what they give. Some who have a lot can be very sparing with what they give. Others who have a little can be very generous in their giving. The first reading and the gospel reading this morning focus on two widows who had very little but gave a great deal. In the first reading, the widow only had a handful of meal in a jar and a little oil in a jug, which was barely enough for herself and her son. Yet, she shared the little she had with the prophet Elijah when he asked for help. The widow in the gospel reading had even less to her name. All she possessed in the world was two small coins, the equivalent of a penny, which at the time was about one thirtieth of a day’s wage. Yet, little as she had, she put the whole lot into the temple treasury. Her extraordinary generosity revealed the depth of her surrender to God and, indeed, her complete trust in God to provide for her. She had very little to give and, yet, she gave everything. Those who had an abundance of this world’s goods put much more into the temple treasury than she did. Yet, relatively speaking, they put much less into the temple treasure, because after they made their generous contribution, they continued to have a great deal left, whereas after she made her tiny contribution, she had nothing left. Jesus is suggesting that generosity is not so much measured by what we give but by what we have left after we give. The widow gave her all; she had nothing more to give. Even though the economic value of what she gave was tiny, the value of what she gave in the Lord’s eyes was enormous. When Jesus looked at her and drew the attention of his disciples to her, he may have recognized something of himself in her. At this point in Mark’s gospel, Jesus is in the temple in Jerusalem. Very soon he will undergo his passion and death. In the course of that painful final journey, he himself will give everything he has. Everything will be taken from him. By the time he cries out, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me’, he will have nothing more to give. Like the widow before the temple treasury, he will have given everything he possessed. It is with this poor woman that Jesus identifies, and not with the religious leaders that Jesus spoke about earlier in the gospel reading, those who like to walk around in long robes and take the front seats in the synagogues. In contrast to the external signs of honour sought out by the religious leaders of the day, this poor widow possessed true honour in God’s eyes. Jesus also says of these religious leaders that they make a show of lengthy prayers as a cover for swallowing the property of widows. It is somewhat ironic that this widow gives so generously to an institution that exploits her.

This passage prompts me to ask the question, ‘Where would Jesus recognize something of himself today?’ The gospel reading suggests that he would recognize himself most of all in those who, like the widow in the gospel reading, mostly go unnoticed, but whose total trust in God enables them to give without counting the cost, without looking to see what they have left, without expecting anything in return. They don’t just give of their possessions, but they give of themselves. It is said of Jesus in the second reading this morning, that he sacrificed himself, he offered himself. God is more interested in the gift of ourselves than in the gift of our possessions.

Jesus saw something of himself in the widow. Through baptism we become members of Christ’s body, temples of his Spirit. As baptized we are to live our lives in such a way that Jesus recognizes something of himself in us, especially in our generosity and goodness of spirit. John is now about to be baptized. We pray that through the grace of baptism he will grow up into the kind of person Jesus recognizes as an image of himself. We can all help him to become that kind of person by living our own baptism to the full, by becoming ourselves people in whom Jesus recognizes something of himself. We ask the Holy Spirit this morning to help us to become that kind of person.

And/Or

(iv) The Thirty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

We know from our own experience that the value of a gift does not depend on the amount of money that was spent to buy it. People can put a lot of thought into a gift that costs very little. We tend to value more the gift into which a lot of thought has gone than the gift that was expensive. A bunch of flowers that we have invested time and energy in cutting from the fields and that we personally hand over can mean more than the most expensive bouquet that is delivered by courier. When the gift contains something of the person giving it, we appreciate its worth.

In the gospel reading, Jesus observes two kinds of gifts being given to the temple treasury. Some put a great deal of money into the treasury. Yet, it was the widow’s gift of two small pennies that caught Jesus’ eye. Even thought her small gift was worth little, it was the most valuable gift of all, because in giving that small sum, she gave her livelihood – she gave her life. Jesus very deliberately points her out to his disciples. Just on one occasion he pointed to a child as the teacher of his disciples, on this occasion he points to the extraordinary generosity of the widow. Jesus was within a few weeks of his passion and death, when he would be called upon to give all he had, his whole life. Perhaps he saw in this widow an image of what was soon to be asked of him.

The widow, in putting her two small coins into the temple treasury, believed that she was giving to God. It was to God that she wanted to give her whole livelihood, her life. Even though Jesus was very critical of the temple and of those who were responsible for it, there is nothing in the gospel reading to suggest that Jesus thought the woman was misguided in giving everything she had to the temple treasury. In a sense, she shows what it means to live the first and the greatest commandment that was the focus of the gospel reading a couple of Sundays ago. She loved God with all her heart, soul, mind and strength. She gave expression to that love in the only way she knew. Jesus recognized that God was the focal point of her giving. The gospel reading suggests that in the case of those who gave large sums of money to the temple treasure, the focal point of their giving was much more themselves. Their giving was, ultimately, an investment in their own honour and recognition. One of the more subtle temptations that we all have to fight against is the temptation to be self-serving in our self-giving. We give with a view to receiving. We are less likely to fall into this temptation if, like the widow, God remains the focus of our giving. Rather than giving to receive, we give because we have received from God; we give back to God from what God has given to us.

This is the core of the gospel message; it is in giving that we receive, it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Jesus says in Luke’s gospel, ‘Give and it will be given to you, a good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap’. The giving Jesus refers to there is not only the giving of money. Our generous giving can take many forms. For some, it may take the form of forgiving someone who has done them wrong, for others it may take the form of serving people with whatever gifts the Lord has given them. Whatever forms our giving takes, both widows in today’s readings can be our teachers.

Fr. Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62, Ireland.

Email: [email protected] or [email protected]

Parish Website: www.stjohnsclontarf.ie Please join us via our webcam.

Twitter: @SJtBClontarfRC.

Facebook: St John the Baptist RC Parish, Clontarf.

Tumblr: Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin

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frmartinshomiliesandreflections · 6 years ago

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11th November >> Fr. Martin's Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Mark 12:38-44 for the Thirty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B: ‘She has put in everything she possessed’.

Thirty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B.

Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Mark 12:38-44

This poor widow has put in more than all

Gospel (USA)

Mark 12:38–44

This poor widow put in more than all the others.

Reflections (4)

(i) Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

And/Or

(ii) The Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

And/Or

(iii) Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

And/Or

(iv) Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

We know from our own experience that the value of a gift does not depend on the amount of money that was spent to buy it. People can put a lot of thought into a gift that costs very little. We tend to value more the gift into which a lot of thought has gone than the gift that was expensive. A bunch of flowers that we have invested time and energy in cutting from the fields and that we personally hand over can mean more than the most expensive bouquet that is delivered by courier. When the gift contains something of the person giving it, we appreciate its worth.

In the gospel reading, Jesus observes two kinds of gifts being given to the temple treasury. Some put a great deal of money into the treasury. Yet, it was the widow’s gift of two small pennies that caught Jesus’ eye. Even thought her small gift was worth little, it was the most valuable gift of all, because in giving that small sum, she gave her livelihood – she gave her life. Jesus very deliberately points her out to his disciples. Just on one occasion he pointed to a child as the teacher of his disciples, on this occasion he points to the extraordinary generosity of the widow. Jesus was within a few weeks of his passion and death, when he would be called upon to give all he had, his whole life. Perhaps he saw in this widow an image of what was soon to be asked of him.

The widow, in putting her two small coins into the temple treasury, believed that she was giving to God. It was to God that she wanted to give her whole livelihood, her life. Even though Jesus was very critical of the temple and of those who were responsible for it, there is nothing in the gospel reading to suggest that Jesus thought the woman was misguided in giving everything she had to the temple treasury. In a sense, she shows what it means to live the first and the greatest commandment that was the focus of the gospel reading a couple of Sundays ago. She loved God with all her heart, soul, mind and strength. She gave expression to that love in the only way she knew. Jesus recognized that God was the focal point of her giving. The gospel reading suggests that in the case of those who gave large sums of money to the temple treasure, the focal point of their giving was much more themselves. Their giving was, ultimately, an investment in their own honour and recognition. One of the more subtle temptations that we all have to fight against is the temptation to be self-serving in our self-giving. We give with a view to receiving. We are less likely to fall into this temptation if, like the widow, God remains the focus of our giving. Rather than giving to receive, we give because we have received from God; we give back to God from what God has given to us.

Fr. Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62, Ireland.

Email: [email protected] or [email protected]

Parish Website: www.stjohnsclontarf.ie Please join us via our webcam.

Twitter: @SJtBClontarfRC.

Facebook: St John the Baptist RC Parish, Clontarf.

Tumblr: Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin.

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riverdamien · 4 years ago

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An Imaginative Encounter With Juan Diego

December 12, 2020

An Imaginative Encounter With Juan Diego

Luke 1:26-38

"In the sixth month of Eizabeth's pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a village. a villiage in Galilee, to a virgin named Mary. . Don't be afraid Mary, the angel told her, for you have found favor with God! You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you will name him Jesus."

Right before dawn, when night and morning meet, is the most beautiful time of the day for me. It is a time when sleep is still in one’s eyes. There is a chill in the air that startles you. I awoke before the birds began to greet the morning sun with their music. I would leave the house at this time so I could reach the hill of Tepeyac and stand there as the morning light clothed me with its warmth. I could feel what the Franciscan friars call the embrace of Brother Sun. Who would not be filled with so much hope as another day of life is beginning? Many people were still suffering and dying from strange sicknesses, but in these moments, I knew that we were not alone.

The walk to Tlatelolco was almost fourteen miles by the way you measure, but I could walk with no hesitation. I was usually one of the first to arrive for Mass and instructions on the Christian faith. There in the quiet of the chapel I came to talk to Jesucristo about the day, about my worries for my family and for my people. I could open my heart. I could feel his love for me. Walking back to my home I stopped to visit friends along the way, taking whatever refreshment they offered. The smells of the morning cooking were so pleasant. Those were such good moments that I remember.

But I see in your eyes you want to know about that special morning when she, the Most Holy Mother of God, came to visit me. You already know so much. Let me share with you some more. The morning was like all the others. I heard the birds singing so beautifully, but then I heard my name called, by such a tender voice. I thought I was still not awake. I looked around to see who was there. The woman’s voice spoke in the language of our people. It reminded me of my mother’s voice when I was very young. Juantzin, Juan Diegotzin, said this voice. Even now when I remember that moment, my eyes still fill with tears. She spoke with such kindness and made me feel loved. She called me “el mas pequeño de mis hijos.” Her tender voice was like a sweet caress that filled me with such delight. Her voice, her love, made me want to do whatever she asked. She sent me to Bishop Juan de Zumárraga, to give him her message: that she wanted a temple built. I just wanted other people to have the same feeling, the same love that was flowing through me. I still see myself as nothing more than a simple, unimportant servant of a noble lady. I called her Niña Linda, so dear is she to me. Do you understand? from SAINTS OF AMERICA

In reflecting on this description of the appearance of Our Lady of Guadalupe to Juan Diego, in 1531, we have the Aztecs, the natives, dying from the diseases brought by the conquerors, and have faced much abuse. It was in that appearance that God brought hope and healing. That same sinful colonial and cultural superiority can be found in our society at large today and within the Church. It is ever present.

Today in many ways there are similarities for all of us to the times of Juan Diego--long lines of people seeking food, going hungry, people losing their housing, and not having health care. People are afraid, broken, dispirited, and have lost hope.

Our Lady was the first Indigenous saint from the Americas, her apparition was in Aztec flesh, speaking the Nahua tongue, was a heavenly rebuke of this sinful colonial and cultural supremacy. She was God's statement that He stood with the oppressed.

She stands today as one of us, who suffers in pain, poverty, all the ism's and stands in rebuke against a culture of war and discrimination.

Today our Lady offers us hope and calls each of us to reach out in hope to others.

And we can offer hope to others-in little ways-for example:

This week, plan to make a single phone call. Just one call, to one person you care about. The purpose? To express your appreciation and concern.

The person you call could be a family member, someone from church, a person in your neighborhood, a coworker, a friend you don’t see often enough, or someone else you know through a shared interest or organization.

You will call to say, essentially two things:

I appreciate you and what you’ve done for me or meant to me.

I want to know how you’re doing because I care about what happens in your life.

And, to keep it simple, be quite upfront about this call. You can begin by saying, “I’m calling because the holidays are coming up, and this time of year reminds me of all the good people in my life, and you’re one of them. I don’t want to take a lot of your time right now because I know everybody’s busy, but I just want you to know that your friendship has been a great gift through the years.”

At some point, add something like this: “How are you, anyway?” How are you coping with "staying in place? How can I help you during this holiday season to be less lonely? How are you doing with your fears, your economic situation, do you have food?"

I guarantee, if you open such a phone discussion, it will probably have an encouraging effect. It doesn’t have to be a long discussion, and if all you manage to do is leave a voicemail message, that will give this person some encouragement too.

Yes, it can be even nicer to make a lunch date over or coffee break over zoom or simply the phone for such a discussion. I have always found in reaching out and showing care for others that it "ain't so bad," life becomes easier, our step becomes a little lighter. Try it!

Let us remember these words:

"A singular word can change the world. The Word created us, and it comes to us in flesh through Jesus; it has been given to you and me. If we do not listen carefully, we can miss it being spoken to us. If we do not embody and share it ourselves, we miss the opportunity to be transformed and to bring transformation. This world yearns for a word. This world yearns for a messenger. This world yearns for you. May we accept the call this day, to receive that Word, to embody it, and, most importantly, to share it."

-Chris Decatu

Let us remember our immigrants both documented and undocumented, and remember that we are all immigrants--and as such let us have compassion on all:

"God of all the earth, As we enter into this Advent and Christmas season we remember how you became Immanuel God with us. We know that the story of your birth is filled with the crossing of borders. We know that you were there keeping Jesus, Mary, and Joseph safe as they traveled to Bethlehem. As they fled persecution by Herod. We know that as the incarnated Christ, you crossed borders. You called on your followers to do the same. You are with migrant people and refugees. You are migrant people and refugees. We pray today be with all of us who are crossing a border or have crossed a border. As we encounter people of different cultures, backgrounds, and ethnicities through crossing borders or becoming neighbors with those who have crossed borders we get a fuller picture of who you are, God as we see your image reflected in each and every one of us. However, we also know the pain that comes with leaving our homes. We pray for those of us who will be far from family members this Christmas because of a broken immigration system. Be with us, grant us peace,�� grant us joy, and grant us reprieve from this injustice. Amen.

Paola Gleghorn

-----------------------------------------------

Fr. River Damien Sims, sfw, D.Min., D.S.T.

P.O. Box 642656

San Francisco, CA 94164

www.temenos.org

415-305-2124

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likeaflowingriver1019 · 4 years ago

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Disability aesthetics

“she lived with two husbands instead of one, never knowing whom she should address her lamentations for fear of mistaking the object of her hatred for the object of her love” (100).

Tobin Siebers: “aesthetics tracks the emotions that some bodies feel in the presence of other bodies. But all bodies are not created equal when it comes to aesthetic response. Taste and disgust are volatile reactions that reveal the ease or disease with which one body might incorporate another. Disability aesthetics seeks to emphasize the presence of different bodies and minds in the tradition of aesthetic representation […] it refuses to recognize the representation of the healthy body and this body’s definition of harmony, integrity and beauty as the sole determination of the aesthetic (542-543)

Madeleine de Scudéry

Madeleine de Scudéry, (born 1607, Le Havre, Fr.—died June 2, 1701, Paris), French novelist and social figure whose romans à clef were immensely popular in the 17th century.

De Scudéry was the younger sister of the dramatist Georges de Scudéry. Madeleine de Scudéry moved to Paris to join her brother after the death of her uncle, who had cared for her after she and her brother had been orphaned. Clever and bright, she soon made her mark on the literary circle of the Hôtel de Rambouillet; by the late 1640s, she had replaced Madame de Rambouillet as the leading literary hostess in Paris and had established her own salon, known as the Société du Samedi (the Saturday Club).

Her first novel, Ibrahim ou l’illustre bassa (1642; Ibrahim or the Illustrious Bassa), was published in four volumes. Her later works were even longer; both Artamène ou le grand Cyrus (1649–53; Artamenes or the Grand Cyrus) and Clélie, histoire romaine (1654–60; Clelia) were published in 10 volumes. Contemporary readers, accustomed to such long novels, appreciated De Scudéry’s works both for their bulk and for the glimpses they provided into the lives of important society figures of the day. These individuals were thinly disguised as Persian, Greek, and Roman warriors and maidens; De Scudéry herself appears in Artamène as Sappho, a name by which she was known to her friends.

Other of her works include Almahide, ou l’es- clave reine (1660–63; “Almahide, or the Slave Queen”), Mathilde d’Aguilar, histoire espagnole (1667; “Mathilda of Aguilar, a Spanish Tale”), and La Promenade de Versailles, ou l’histoire de Célanire (1669; “The Versailles Promenade, or the Tale of Celanire”). Most of the novels were published anonymously or under the name of her brother Georges. They included long passages devoted to conversations on such topics as the education of women; these were excerpted and published separately.

Although her novels were exceptionally popular and were lauded by such notables as Madame de Sévigné, they also met with some criticism. The poet and critic Nicolas Boileau, for instance, satirized them harshly.

Michel de Montaigne

Michel de Montaigne, in full Michel Eyquem de Montaigne, (born February 28, 1533, Château de Montaigne, near Bordeaux, France—died September 23, 1592, Château de Montaigne), French writer whose Essais (Essays) established a new literary form. In his Essays he wrote one of the most captivating and intimate self-portraits ever given, on a par with Augustine’s and Rousseau’s.

Living, as he did, in the second half of the 16th century, Montaigne bore witness to the decline of the intellectual optimism that had marked the Renaissance. The sense of immense human possibilities, stemming from the discoveries of the New World travelers, from the rediscovery of classical antiquity, and from the opening of scholarly horizons through the works of the humanists, was shattered in France when the advent of the Calvinistic Reformation was followed closely by religious persecution and by the Wars of Religion (1562–98). These conflicts, which tore the country asunder, were in fact political and civil as well as religious wars, marked by great excesses of fanaticism and cruelty. At once deeply critical of his time and deeply involved in its preoccupations and its struggles, Montaigne chose to write about himself—“I am myself the matter of my book,” he says in his opening address to the reader—in order to arrive at certain possible truths concerning man and the human condition, in a period of ideological strife and division when all possibility of truth seemed illusory and treacherous.

Charles Perrault

Charles Perrault, (born January 12, 1628, Paris, France—died May 15/16, 1703, Paris), French poet, prose writer, and storyteller, a leading member of the Académie Française, who played a prominent part in a literary controversy known as the quarrel of the Ancients and Moderns. He is best remembered for his collection of fairy stories for children, Contes de ma mère l’oye (1697; Tales of Mother Goose). He was the brother of the physician and amateur architect Claude Perrault.

A lawyer by training, Charles Perrault first worked as an official in charge of royal buildings. He began to win a literary reputation in about 1660 with some light verse and love poetry and spent the rest of his life in promoting the study of literature and the arts. In 1671 he was elected to the Académie Française, which soon was sharply divided by the dispute between the Ancients and the Moderns. Perrault supported the Moderns, who believed that, as civilization progresses, literature evolves with it and that therefore ancient literature is inevitably more coarse and barbarous than modern literature. His poem Le Siècle de Louis le Grand (1687; “The Age of Louis the Great”) set such modern writers as Molière and François de Malherbe above the Classical authors of Greece and Rome. His chief opponent in this controversy was Nicolas Boileau. Perrault’s stand was a landmark in the eventually successful revolt against the confines of the prevailing tradition.

Perrault’s fairy stories in Mother Goose were written to amuse his children. They include “Little Red Riding Hood,” “The Sleeping Beauty,” “Puss in Boots,” and “Bluebeard,” modern versions of half-forgotten folk tales, which Perrault retold in a style that is simple and free from affectation.

Bluestocking

Bluestocking, any of a group of ladies who in mid-18th-century England held “conversations” to which they invited men of letters and members of the aristocracy with literary interests. The word has come to be applied derisively to a woman who affects literary or learned interests. The Bluestockings attempted to replace social evenings spent playing cards with something more intellectual. The term probably originated when one of the ladies, Mrs. Vesey, invited the learned Benjamin Stillingfleet to one of her parties; he declined because he lacked appropriate dress, whereupon she told him to come “in his blue stockings”—the ordinary worsted stockings he was wearing at the time. He did so, and Bluestocking (or Bas Bleu) society became a nickname for the group. This anecdote was later recounted by Madame d’Arblay (the diarist and novelist better known as Fanny Burney), who was closely associated with (but also satirized) the Bluestockings.

The group was never a society in any formal sense. Mrs. Vesey seems to have given the first party, in Bath. After she moved to London, a rivalry developed with Mrs. Elizabeth Montagu, who became the leader of the literary ladies. Others included Mrs. Hester Chapone, Mrs. Elizabeth Carter, Miss Mary Monckton, and Miss Hannah More, whose poem “The Bas Bleu, or Conversation,” supplies valuable inside information about them. Guests included Dr. Johnson, David Garrick, the Earl of Bath, Lord Lyttleton, and Horace Walpole (who called them “petticoteries”).

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pamphletstoinspire · 6 years ago

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A Padre Pio Inspirational Story

Father James DeVita, SDB, was born and raised in San Giovanni Rotondo, the town where Padre Pio lived for almost 50 years. Padre Pio’s name was a household word in the DeVita family. Fr. DeVita’s mother, Agnes, was a member of the 3rd Order of St. Francis. Padre Pio often encouraged people to join the 3rd Order of St. Francis, calling it a “school of holiness.” As a young woman, Agnes used to bake pizza and take it to the monastery for the Capuchins to enjoy for dinner.

When Fr. DeVita was a teenager, he used to walk with his boyhood friends to the monastery to attend Padre Pio’s Mass. On one occasion, he was the altar server for Padre Pio’s Mass. It lasted almost two hours with long periods of silent prayer throughout. Padre Pio often lost track of time during the Mass. But as a restless teenager, James DeVita did not lose track of time and to him Padre Pio’s Mass was just too long for comfort.

Fr. DeVita also made his confession to Padre Pio on a number of occasions. At that time, the men’s confessions were held in the sacristy of the church. Confessions were face to face and neither a screen nor a curtain was provided for privacy. The line formed about four feet away from where the penitent was making his confession. The person kneeling before Padre Pio seemed so exposed. Although nobody was trying to listen, one could practically hear the words being spoken. Waiting in line to make one’s confession to Padre Pio could be a nerve-wracking experience. One could easily observe the expression on Padre Pio’s face while hearing confessions. When people confessed that they had missed Sunday Mass, Padre Pio became visibly upset. He was extremely strict in this regard. Unless one was sick, missing Mass on Sunday was a grave omission. As a teenager, James DeVita would miss Mass from time to time due to his own negligence. When this occurred, he did not have the courage to make his confession to Padre Pio. He would choose another priest.

According to the general opinion, making one’s confession to Padre Pio was of inestimable help in the spiritual life. It was true. God gave Padre Pio extraordinary gifts and graces for his priestly work as a confessor. In his lifetime, he reconciled thousands of people back to their faith. He once said that if he had the choice between losing his eyesight or his sense of hearing, he would prefer to lose his eyesight. “Why is that?” someone asked. “It is because with my hearing intact I would still be able to hear confessions,” he answered. And hear confessions he did, often more than twelve hours a day. On the last day of his life, although weak and very ill, he heard a number of confessions. Pope Pius XII called him, “The confessor of Europe.”

Padre Pio saw his priestly role as confessor as a great responsibility and he always prayed for God’s help.”Without the grace of God, we can do nothing,” he said. People often came to Padre Pio asking him for advice as to whether certain actions in their daily living experiences were right or wrong. He usually saw questions of right verses wrong in simple, black and white terms. He was able to counsel people in a way that left no doubt in the person’s mind regarding the right course to take. He was never tempted to tell people what they wanted to hear. His desire was to tell people the truth.

Padre Pio made no distinction between venial sins and mortal sins. He spoke simply of sin. For Padre Pio, sin was something serious, something terrible. There was to be no compromise with sin. It had to be avoided at all costs. “We will never know what it means to rebel against God,” he once said.

Padre Pio said that he had only one fear, that of offending God. He once said, “I would rather undergo death an infinite number of times, rather than openly offend the Lord.” On one occasion a person told Padre Pio that he had lied. He explained that it was a very small lie, a white lie. It was of no consequence. “But Jesus died to defend the truth,” Padre Pio answered. “A small lie is a sin that offends God,” he said. And he went further. He did not condone exaggeration either, even to the smallest degree.

For those who were sincerely seeking to move forward on the spiritual path, confession to Padre Pio was a great blessing. But for the insincere and those who came simply out of curiosity to Padre Pio’s confessional, his spiritual direction was described as “demanding, disturbing, and uncomfortable.”

Time and space and distance did not seem to be a barrier in Padre Pio’s ministry to souls. On one occasion, one of the Capuchins was just about to knock on the door of Padre Pio’s cell when he heard Padre Pio talking to someone inside. He decided not to disturb them but he waited at the door anyway. Soon Padre Pio opened the door but there was no one else inside his cell. “I heard you talking to someone but there is no one there,” the Capuchin said. “Oh, I was hearing someone’s confession,” Padre Pio replied. Through the extraordinary gift of bilocation, Padre Pio was able to be present to people, often great distances away, who were in need of his help.

Padre Pio went to confession frequently and he encouraged others to do the same. When some protested that they did not need to go to confession since they had nothing of consequence to confess, Padre Pio used a simple analogy. “Even if a room is very clean and the door is closed so that no one can enter, the dust will nevertheless collect there and it will require dusting,” he said. Once Padre Pio made his confession to Padre Eusebio Notte and afterward he began to cry. Padre Eusebio was perplexed. He told Padre Pio that the sins that he confessed were indeed very small and insignificant. There was certainly no reason to cry. But Padre Pio did not see it that way. He had a horror of offending God, even in small matters. He was always truly sorry for his sins.

When Fr. DeVita was a teenager, he used to take part as an actor in the religious plays that were performed in San Giovanni Rotondo. The plays included the life of St. Cecilia, St. Agnes, St. Peter and more. Padre Pio and the other Capuchins frequently attended the performances and enjoyed them immensely. Rehearsals were held at Mary Pyle’s home. Fr. DeVita had a great admiration for Mary Pyle. She was often known simply as, “Padre Pio’s American secretary.” “Mary was a person of great holiness,” said Fr. DeVita. “Her love for God and her great willingness to serve Padre Pio’s work was truly amazing.”

Mary Pyle was an American heiress who had been born into a very socially prominent and wealthy Protestant family and raised in New York’s high society. She had become accustomed to every luxury from her earliest years and had traveled extensively throughout the world. When Mary was 35 years old, she accepted an invitation from a girlfriend to visit Padre Pio’s monastery and attend his Mass. During the visit, she was able to speak to Padre Pio briefly. She found her life transformed by the encounter and soon decided to move to San Giovanni Rotondo permanently. She built a house right below the monastery. It was one of the first houses in the area.

Mary joined the 3rd Order of St. Francis and began to lead a simple and austere life, totally consecrated to God. Her workload continually increased through the years but she was always ready and willing to do more to assist Padre Pio. Mary had the heart of a mother, and the charity of a saint. She lived in San Giovanni Rotondo for 45 years until her death in 1968. Her cause for canonization is presently being considered by the Church.

The Capuchins in San Giovanni Rotondo set aside time every day for a period of recreation. For Padre Pio, this time was usually spent in the garden of the monastery, enjoying fellowship with his brothers in religion. As the time drew closer to his ordination day, James DeVita was allowed to visit Padre Pio in the monastery garden anytime he wished. He recalls that Padre Pio delighted in telling funny stories and making everyone laugh. “Padre Pio had a wonderful sense of humor,” Fr. DeVita said. “He was a simple man. He was not an intellectual. He was a man of prayer, a man who loved God above all things.”

Padre Pio wore brown half gloves to cover the wounds of the stigmata. He would always remove the gloves before the celebration of Mass. On several occasions, Fr. DeVita was able to kiss the stigmata on Padre Pio’s hand when his gloves were removed. It was a grace-filled experience and yet it was not something that was easy to do. Fr. DeVita would close his eyes tightly and with trepidation, kiss the wound on Padre Pio’s hand.

Because of the inadequate health care in San Giovanni Rotondo in the early years, many of the people in the area died an untimely death. Padre Pio felt compelled to remedy this situation. He worked tirelessly to make the Home for the Relief of Suffering a reality. Fr. DeVita saw first hand, the great blessings of Padre Pio’s hospital. Not only did it save the lives of many of the sick and infirm, it was also of great benefit to the poor. San Giovanni Rotondo was an economically depressed region and many of its citizens struggled to find work. The Home for the Relief of Suffering provided much needed jobs for many of the families in the town. Fr. DeVita’s own sister Raffaella felt very fortunate to be employed at the hospital.

Fr. DeVita became a patient at the Home for the Relief of Suffering shortly after it opened its doors. He contracted typhoid fever and remained in a coma for four days. A rumor went around San Giovanni Rotondo that James had passed away, but Padre Pio set the record straight. He said, “Do not worry. James has not passed away. He is going to recover.”

In 1957, James DeVita was ordained into the Salesian Order, founded by St. John Bosco. Mary Pyle and the ladies choir that she directed, and that sang for all of Padre Pio’s Masses, came to the parish of San Onofrio in San Giovanni Rotondo to provide the music for James’ ordination Mass. When Fr. DeVita celebrated his first Mass, he had the great joy to wear one of Padre Pio’s priestly stoles.

Before he moved to the United States, Fr. DeVita went to Padre Pio to say goodbye. “But there is so much work for priests to do here in Italy,” Padre Pio said to him. “Why do you have to move so far away?” Fr. DeVita explained that he wanted to be closer to his family who had emigrated to Canada.

June 29, 2007 marked Fr. James DeVita’s golden jubilee anniversary of fifty years in the priesthood. Most of his priestly ministry has been spent serving parishes in New York and New Jersey. Today he is retired and living in Florida where he also assists at a parish. Looking back on his life, Fr. DeVita is very grateful to have grown up in San Giovanni Rotondo and to have had a saint as his role model. Fr. DeVita said that the beautiful words spoken by Pope Paul VI on the life and spirituality of Padre Pio, echo his own sentiments in a profound way. In speaking of Padre Pio, Pope Paul VI said, “What fame he had. How many followers from around the world. Why? Was it because he was a philosopher, a scholar, or because he had means at his disposal? No, it was because he said Mass humbly, heard confessions from morning until night and was a marked representative of the stigmata of Our Lord. He was truly a man of prayer and suffering.” ______________________________

Pasquale D’Andrea grew up in Pietrelcina, Italy. His father, Cosimo owned a piece of land in Pietrelcina and earned his living by growing tobacco. One day Padre Pio approached Cosimo and said to him, “You do not go to Mass on Sunday, but you go to the town square.” Cosimo was shocked that Padre Pio knew that he did not attend Sunday Mass. He had never discussed it with anyone. He explained to Padre Pio that he had to spend his Sundays working in the fields to earn his living and support his family. But Cosimo was well-aware that his explanation was unsatisfactory to Padre Pio. From that day forward, he never again missed attending Sunday Mass.

Pasquale’s wife, Giovannina, also had the greatest respect for Padre Pio. On one occasion she had an important decision to make regarding a personal matter. She felt that she needed to seek advice from Padre Pio at once. She went to the church to speak to him, but realized that it would be impossible. On that particular day there was a continuous crowd of people around him. However, Padre Pio answered the questions in her heart in a unique way. At three different times that morning, he fixed his eyes on Giovannina. With a penetrating gaze and a serious expression on his face, he slowly moved his head from side to side, indicating “no.” Without saying a word, Padre Pio had given Giovannina the answer she needed. She felt completely satisfied.

Before leaving Italy in 1955 to make his home in New York, Pasquale went to San Giovanni Rotondo to say good bye to Padre Pio and ask for his blessing. Padre Pio was always very friendly and approachable. He simply said to Pasquale, “There will be three days of storms on your journey, and after that smooth sailing!” Once again, his words proved true. ______________________________

Padre Pio has been a part of Ellie Hunt’s family ever since she can remember. Ellie’s father, James Rummo as well as her maternal and paternal grandparents lived in Pietrelcina, Padre Pio’s hometown. It was a small and close-knit farming town where everybody knew everybody else. Francesco Forgione (Padre Pio) would eventually become Pietrelcina’s most famous citizen, although no one ever imagined it at the time.

Ellie’s maternal grandmother, Anna Maria Scocco was the same age as Padre Pio and knew him as a child. Anna Maria’s family owned a farm in the countryside of Pietrelcina, an area called Piana Romana. Padre Pio’s family, the Forgione’s, also had a small landholding in Piana Romana as well as a vineyard. As a youngster, Padre Pio tended the family’s sheep.

Anna Maria recalled that Padre Pio was very pious as a young boy and always carried a devotional book with him. He was a quiet child and quite shy. Anna Maria once asked him why he was always reading books. Instead of answering, he asked Anna Maria why she didn’t attend school. She told him that it was because her father wanted her to stay home and learn how to cook, clean and sew. At the time, education was not mandatory in southern Italy.

Padre Pio’s health, which was never good, began to deteriorate during his time in the Capuchin seminary. Doctors were never able to successfully diagnose and treat the mysterious illnesses that continually wracked his body. The distressing symptoms of his ailments would come and go with no apparent reason. Padre Pio was forced to interrupt his studies for the priesthood and move back to the family home. For the better part of 7 years, from 1909 until 1916, he remained in Pietrelcina. He spent much of his time in prayer and solitude and did his best to regain his health. It was one of the few times of relative quiet and peace in his life. During this period, his prayer life grew in intensity. It is thought that the 7 years he spent in his hometown were almost like an extended retreat, arranged by Divine Providence, to prepare him spiritually for the great mission that was just up ahead.

It was during the time of his long convalescence in Pietrelcina that Ellie’s father James came in contact with Padre Pio. James’ grandmother, Saveria, would send him with fresh eggs to deliver to Padre Pio. The hope was that the eggs would build up his strength. Everyone in the community knew of his illness and hoped for his recovery. Even in his youth, the townspeople held him in the highest esteem.

It was difficult to make a living in Pietrelcina and for this reason, Ellie’s father, grandparents, and other relatives eventually moved to New York. Once in New York, the men joined the “Pietrelcina Society,” which sent regular financial help to those who had stayed behind.

Alfred, one of Ellie’s cousins, made yearly visits back to Pietrelcina all through the 1950’s. He noticed that St. Anne’s parish, where Padre Pio had celebrated Mass for a number of years, was in a great state of disrepair. “Someday people from all over the world will be coming to our town,” he said to his relatives in Pietrelcina. “They will want to see Padre Pio’s birthplace and the parish of his youth. The church must be kept clean at all times. It must be swept and dusted daily. It cannot be neglected like this!” he said emphatically.

In the 1950’s when Alfred spoke these words, Padre Pio was almost completely unknown throughout the world. The tiny, impoverished town of Pietrelcina was even more unknown. It could barely be found on a map. Many of its residents had long since moved away. But Alfred was convinced that the saintly priest from Pietrelcina would one day become world-famous and that people would be interested in seeing his hometown. His words proved to be prophetic. Gradually people from all parts of the world began to learn about Padre Pio. Today, the pilgrims who annually visit the town of Padre Pio’s birth and pray in the rustic church of St. Anne’s, number in the thousands. The increase in visitors has been so dramatic that the town is hard-pressed to accommodate the crowds.

All through Ellie’s growing up years, she heard the family reminisce about Padre Pio but she was never very interested in these stories from the “old country.” All that changed however due to an incident that happened in 1960, when Ellie was 31 years old. That was the year that her grandfather, Jack Crafa became gravely ill. Ellie and her parents lived close to his home in Flushing, New York and during his illness, the family stayed by his side. When Jack fell into a coma, everyone knew his end was near. One day while Ellie and her parents were at her grandfather’s bedside, a stranger knocked at the door. It was a Capuchin monk dressed in a dark brown habit. Ellie was surprised to see that he was wearing sandals without any socks for it was a particularly cold day and there was snow on the ground outside. He said he had come to pray for her grandfather.

Ellie was perplexed. There were not any Capuchin monks in residence at their parish in Flushing or in any other parish in the area for that matter. Ellie was also annoyed. It should have been the parish priest to come to pray for her grandfather and not a complete stranger. But she was impressed by the kindness and compassion of the young religious. He went in the bedroom and blessed Jack Crafa. He told the family to pray the Rosary while sitting at Jack’s side and to pray the Hail Mary close to his ear. He had the sense that Jack was still able to hear. After the monk said that, Ellie was surprised to find that when she took her grandfather’s hand in hers, she felt a very slight response from him, a very slight squeeze from his hand.

The young monk gave Ellie’s grandfather the Last Rites, he blessed the family and then bid them goodbye. As he walked out the front door, Ellie’s father, James, observed that there was no car waiting for him outside. James watched him as he walked up the street until he disappeared in the darkness. It was that very night that Jack Crafa passed away. He had been in a coma for nine days.

After the monk left, James became pale and appeared quite shaken. Ellie’s mother Lucy, asked him for the reason.”Don’t you know who that was?”James replied. “It was Padre Pio. He came in bilocation to give the Last Rites to your father. He looked exactly like I remember him when I used to deliver eggs to him in Pietrelcina.”

Ellie believed her father’s explanation and she was aware of Padre Pio’s gift of bilocation. Her grandfather, Jack Crafa had been one of Padre Pio’s spiritual sons from Pietrelcina. But Ellie was confused about one thing. The black and white photos she had seen of Padre Pio showed him as having very dark hair, almost black. This monk had sandy colored hair. Later when Ellie read a biography of Padre Pio, the author described Padre Pio’s hair as a dark sandy color. It confirmed her own observation.

Padre Pio had always said that the people of Pietrelcina held a very special place in his heart. Ellie’s mother had a cousin named Rose from Pietrelcina. She was very devoted to Padre Pio. Rose heard that Padre Pio enjoyed American coffee. She used to regularly send packages to her aunt who lived in San Giovanni Rotondo. The packages always included coffee with instructions to take it to the monastery and give it to Padre Pio.

Rose was finally able to make a trip to San Giovanni Rotondo. One afternoon, she was standing among a large crowd of people who were gathered outside the monastery waving to Padre Pio. He was standing at a window, waving a handkerchief in greeting to the crowd below. As he looked at the large gathering of people, he pointed out Rose to one of the Capuchins. The next thing she knew, one of the Capuchins approached her and told her that Padre Pio wanted to speak to her. Rose was escorted inside the monastery and asked to wait. After awhile the Capuchin returned. He apologized to Rose. He said that Padre Pio wanted to come down and personally thank her for the coffee she had been sending to him but he was unable to do so. In that large crowd of people he picked out one of his fellow citizens of Pietrelcina to give a special word of thanks to. He had never seen Rose before nor had she ever seen him. He loved Pietrelcina and he loved his spiritual children from Pietrelcina. Padre Pio once said, “In my lifetime I have made San Giovanni Rotondo known but after my death I will make Pietrelcina known.”

#padre pio

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pamphletstoinspire · 8 years ago

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Our Universal Mother - Part 11

Marist Spirituality - Proud to be "of Mary"

Prayer

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee blessed art thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

Marist Spirituality

by Fr. Albert DiIanni, s.m.

For years I have tried to find simple formulas that captured the spirituality of the Society of Mary, the religious congregation whose members are called Marists. Such formulas would help me to present this spirituality to the laity and invite them to participate in it. To this end I read a book entitled " Becoming a Marist" by Fr. Gaston Lessard, a Canadian Marist. I thought I would find in it some neat phrases that distilled the Marist spirituality. But I found nothing of the kind. Rather the book was a detailed recounting of the historical events that led up to the founding of the Society of Mary. I should have expected this because Fr. Gaston Lessard had often told me that the only way to truly imbibe Marist spirituality was to read and re-read the history of the first Marists. In his opinion one had to relive what they had experienced at Fourviere, where they had vowed to found the Marist Society, at Cerdon where Fr. John Claude Colin wrote the first rule, and in the Bugey mountains of France where the early Marists learned how to be missionary.

I began to realize that Marist spirituality could not be captured in a few abstract phrases. This was because at the center of our spirituality was not a set of ideas, but a person, the person of Mary, Mary and her desires.

Fr. John Coste, our most gifted Marist historian, hinted at this in a set of conferences that he gave years ago on the spirituality of the Marist beginnings. In these conferences Coste presented several grand themes that were part of the vision of our founder, Fr. John Claude Colin. Among these Colinian themes were the phrases: "to be hidden and unknown in the world," "to make the whole world Marist," "Marists as instruments of divine mercy," the three great No’s of Fr. Colin, namely, saying "No to greed, No to vanity, No to ambition," and Colin’s vision of a Marian Church. But at a certain point in his conferences Fr. Coste paused and asked a question of his audience. He said: "I have explained many of the themes of Fr. Colin and the early Marists, but what for the early Marists was their point of departure? What gave them their sense of urgency? In what did they find their fire? Was it in the call to imitate Mary by living a hidden life in the world? Was it in Fr. Colin’s call to say No to greed, and vanity and excessive ambition?" No! answered Fr. Coste. The fire of the early Marists came from their conviction that Mary wanted something.

The early Marists were convinced that Mary was alive in the Church and that she could and did desire something. She wanted something of them, the early Marists. She had spoken to one of them in a kind of inner locution. To him she had said: " Behold what I want!" and she went on to say that she wanted a religious society bearing her name, the Society of Mary. She wanted its members to be called Marists and to stand at her side countering the major loss of faith that was occurring at that time..

The early Marists were convinced that more than they choosing Mary, Mary had chosen them. The initiative was hers. Mary wanted something of them. She wanted a religious congregation that bore her name and persons who would be extensions of her in the world. She wanted persons who would become, as it were, Mary in the world. She wanted Marists who would lend her their hands, their voices, their feet, in order to share in her task of proclaiming the gospel of her Son in a world which in the 19th century was in the process of being lost.

This means that becoming a Marist - priest, sister, brother or lay Marist - does not happen by simply taking Mary as a model and imitating her virtues. Being a Marist means answering a call. It is Mary’s call to us to become Mary, to live her very life, breathe her spirit, and share in her work. For the early Marists, Mary was a living person, active in the Church. She was the real founder of the Marist society, its first and perpetual superior. The three Marist founders, John Claude Colin, Marcellin Champagnat, and Jeanne Marie Chavoin, all referred to the Society of Mary as "the work of the Blessed Virgin," and called Mary their first and perpetual superior. So strong was their sense of identity with Mary, so convinced were they that the founding of the Society had been Mary’s work.

I have now come to realize that the most important words in the history of Marist spirituality are not "hidden and unknown in the world," nor "the whole Marist," nor "living the spirit of Nazareth," nor that Marists must be "instruments of the divine mercy." The most important words in Marist spirituality are the words "of Mary." We belong to her. She has chosen us more than we have chosen her. She is our first and our perpetual superior. This relationship to Mary is the very center and pivot of our Marist spirituality.

To truly enter into Marist spirituality we must have the conviction that even in our own day Mary wants something. She wants to do something in the Church by means of us. She wants people - Marists - to consider themselves extensions of herself and to invade everywhere in the world.

The central challenge is this: "If all this was believable for the first Marists, is it still believable for us who live in the 21st century? Or are we so theologically sophisticated and so secularized that we cannot believe that Mary is still calling and choosing? Many modern theologians hesitate to believe such things. They can believe that we should imitate the virtues of Mary and take her as a model, but they cannot believe that Mary calls, that Mary chooses. I assure you that they are missing the boat. I can assure you further that if you present the Marist spirituality to today’s young people in the terms I have explained, there will be vocations, because a certain number of young people today desire to enter into relationship with the supernatural. For them the "supernatural" is not a word to be avoided, as it is for some of today’s theologians. Today’s young people love the world but they also want to go beyond the world. They would welcome the thought that Mary is calling them personally, that Mary is choosing them to live her life in the world. Many of them would desire to tell you a story of their own personal encounter with God, or Jesus or Mary.

Can we still believe that we are called by Mary, that she chooses us more than we chose her? I think we can. And this makes all the difference. It is the difference between imitating a person and entering into a living relationship with that person. I believe that still today, Mary calls, Mary chooses, and that we Marists are chosen, by a grace-filled choice, to stand in her place in the world. We who are called Marists - laity, priests, brothers or sisters - belong to her society and are proud to be "of Mary." We love to bear her name and to take part in her work, which is of her Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.

Fr. Albert Di Ianni, S.M.

The Lourdes Center

698 Beacon Street

Boston, MA 02215

Tel. 617-262-2271

E-mail: [email protected]

Please feel free to contact me if I may be of any assistance to you.

" We love to bear her name and take part in her work, which is the work of her Son, Jesus Christ our Lord."

#our universal mother

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