Thoughts on Epiphany

Today was the feast of the Epiphany, though I like to call it "Three Kings". My mother used to insist that we keep our Christmas tree up until Epiphany (though she used the old fixed date of January 6, not the movable feast date we use today). When I lived in Washington, a Cajun friend used to head back to New Orleans to return with the King Cake.

In church this morning, I explained it to my children that on Epiphany we celebrate the first Christmas presents.

As the homilist this morning explained, the really funny thing is that Matthew's Gospel does not refer to three persons, and does not call them kings. Rather, they are an indeterminate number of "magi" or wise men. Little is given of who they were or where they came but the general "from the east." The gifts too are symbolic -- gold of Christ's kingship, incense of his priesthood, and myrrh for his death.

So Happy Epiphany!

A Quote I Like

"If I succeed I bless God. If I do not succeed I bless God, for then it will be right that I do not succeed." St. Elizabeth Ann Seton

Trinity Sunday

Sunday was Trinity Sunday and the homilist was expounding at length on the difficulty in understanding the Trinity. This concept still is a hard one to understand, despite having been pondered by the greatest minds in Christendom for almost two millennia. Some Christians, such as the Arians and Monophysits of old times and Unitarians of today, gave up trying to understand it and found it unworkable.

I remember my mother teaching my first grade CCD class trying to explain it to a bunch of six year olds. Needless to say, we did not quite get it. I remember was my mother finally saying "think of it is you, your mother and your father tried to bake some cookies together" - so I think she ran out of ideas also.

But my favorite story is that of Saint Augustine, walking along the shore of Hippo, pondering the problem of the Trinity. There he saw a young child dig a hole in the sand. She then began taking buckets of water from the Mediterranean and started pouring it into the hole. When Saint Augustine asked the child what she was doing, she replied that she was trying to puring the sea into the hole. When Augustine told her that was impossible, she replied that she would pour the entire sea into the hole before Augustine was able to understand the Holy Trinity.

Thoughts on Saint Joseph’s Day

As a child, I always loved Saint Joseph's Day. Coming so soon after Saint Patrick's, the Italian families in my town tried to make a big deal about it. The best part was the zeppola:

My mother used to travel back to Brooklyn to get the best ones from DaLuca's on North 6th and Havemeyer Street in Williamsburg. Later, we would also get great ones from Francesca's Bakery in Hicksville.

As I have become a father, this day has meant more to me. I can imagine Saint Joseph with the baby Jesus, watching with pride as Jesus grew up. But also with a little sadness, for paradoxically, I find the happiness I feel watching my two boys grow and learn is also tinged by some melancholy.

I buried my father on Saint Joseph's Day. Saint Joseph is the patron of fathers and of workers, and my father excelled at both. So I find that both fitting and comforting.

Mother Teresa and Darkness

I have finally finished the book of Mother Teresa's letters. It is a wonderful book, but very hard going. She was a very complex person yet also very single minded in her what she felt was her mission. Hence, the pain in what she feared was the rejection of Christ was very real and very strong.

As I have noted earlier, some in the press have stated that these letters show that Mother Teresa was some sort of hypocrite or a secret atheist. Otters have argued that she was feeling "the dark night of the soul."

From reading her letters, however, I think it was in fact something else, something deeper. Was she simply reacting as any loving human being would to the poverty and rejection of the Indian slums? Or was she feeling spiritually the pain of loss and rejection felt by Christ on Calvary? Was it from God, or was it a reaction to her surroundings?

I cannot say. But what is clear from her letters is that she eventually welcomed the darkness as a gift from God. And despite this darkness, she never waived in her mission.

More on Mother Teresa's Dark Night

I am still reading Mother Teresa's letters. In the days she was forming her missionaries, she frankly was a pain. I feel for her bishop -- he was bombarded by constant letters begging him to grant permission for the Missionaries of Charity. He would tell her to be patient (he needed to get approval from others). Yet she refused to stop. She constantly felt our Lord's presence imploring her to do his will.

If was after she commenced her mission that her dark night began.

St. Teresa of Avila

Tomorrow (October 15) is the feast day of St. Teresa of Avila. She is one of the most beloved saints in Spain, and one of my favorites. She was from a well of and prominent merchant family (several of her siblings married nobility). She found her vocation after a long search. Her theology was one of prayer and spirit, but she was not a stern Catholic. Rather, she opened herself to the joy of Catholicism. She was also a scholar who found herself enmeshed in the controversies of the day, especially with regards to the controversies between the several Carmelite branches.

Two stories though stand out in my mind. In the first, several of her fellow nuns and some of the novices were disheartened. So in order to raise their spirits, she took out some cymbals and had them dance. In the second, Saint Teresa was visiting a convent on official business when she was fed some delicious partridge. She enjoyed it so much, she asked the novice serving her to get her some more. Which she enjoyed with obvious pleasure. When the novice look a little disapproving, Saint Teresa said (in what I have always imagined was a little bit of sarcasm) "My child, there is a time for penance and a time for partridge."

To me that is one of the keys to Catholicism -- believe, but with joy.

Saints and Madmen -- St. Francis of Assisi

"Francis, Francis, go and repair My house which, as you can see, is falling into ruins."

October 4 is the feast of St. Francis of Assisi. Italians like their saints a little mad and Saint Francis fit the bill. Tearing off his clothes to protest his father's materiality, running off to the woods, preaching to the animals when the people of Assisi refused to listen. He was quite mad, which is why Poor Francis is one of the most beloved saints in Italy.

His mission marked a renewal in the church. Given the ongoing pederasty scandals, we need a new Francis.

Saints and Madmen

According to the Anchoress, Father Rutler told Christopher Hitchens that Hitchens will die "either a Catholic or a madman." The Anchoress notes that she is not sure this exchange really happened, but she notes some truth to it. She looks at her favorite saints and notes that they, well, were all slightly mad.

Mother Teresa before the "Dark Night"

I have started reading the collection of Mother Teresa's letters. As I noted here and here, the press has been reporting that Mother Teresa was some sort of atheist, without realizing that her cry was that of an anguished believer.

The interesting thing so far is that she felt her call so strongly. In letters written to her spiritual advisor and to her Archbishop asking for permission to start the Missionaries of Charity, she described it so vividly. Christ asked her to minister to the poorest of the poor and she felt that she could do nothing but answer that call. Her superiors of course were not quite so convinced. Her spiritual advisor suggested that she take some time to reflect, her Archbishop suggested that they delay any decision, while her superiors transferred her to a remote school.

Yet she continued with pursuing her call. She wrote constantly to her Archbishop, requesting a decision (one that he tried to delay or pass to otters). In these letters, you can almost hear the pleading voice of the humble nun. Considering how vivid and strong the call was, you can understand why her later struggles were so devastating to her.

Perhaps that is the lesson of Teresa, that when we hear and answer the call, it is then up to us to make it happen. God points in the direction he wants us to go, but then it is up to us to get there.

More on Mother Teresa

It seems that Mother Teresa's spiritual doubts have struck a cord in the blogsphere. The Anchoress has a wonderful essay on the subject, along with a round up of others. Despite the silly statements in the press that the letters show Mother Teresa was an atheist, the letters instead show the opposite. “My God my God, why have you abandoned me” is not the cry of an atheist, but the cry of a pained believer. But what is forgotten, is that the psalmist went on to state that “For God has not spurned or disdained the misery of this poor wretch, Did not turn away from me, but heard me when I cried out.” The psalm ends with the psalmist stating that he will teach the next generation of God, so they can proclaim Him to the generations to come.

The book of Mother Teresa's letters must be selling very well. Amazon tells me that the book will not be shipped until sometime in October. And why not? I want to read about a saint's "long dark night" to give me courage when my much weaker faith falters.

Mother Teresa and the Struggles of Faith

A book of Mother Teresa's letters was published recently. I ordered the book today. It shows a woman struggling with faith, to reconcile her faith with the poverty she saw around her. She felt abandoned by God and a hypocrite.

Of course, some of the press is saying that this proves Mother Teresa was an atheist.

Yet, I find the fact that she struggled with faith reassuring and proof of her saintly virtue. The saints are held up as examples to us. If they were purely angelic creatures without faults or doubts, what kind of examples would they be to us? They are human, and as such they have vices, frailties and failings. Yet, they overcome those failings.

All Christians struggle with faith. Did not most of the Apostles run from Jesus? Did not Peter actively deny Him? Was not Paul originally an oppressor of Christians? Did not Dorthy Day have an abortion? Was not Saint Augustine a libertine?

I have at times questioned my faith. At times I even actively denied it. I still struggle. If Mother Teresa could struggle yet overcome those doubts, I realize I might also.

Do any lawyers go to heaven?

A few must have over the years. Saint Thomas Aquinas was sort of a lawyer. And Saint Thomas More was a lawyer, though he was canonized as a martyr (though is the official patron of politicians and an unofficial patron of common law attorneys).

Then there is Ivo of Kermartin (also known as Saint Ivo of Brittany, Saint Yves, or Saint Ives). An advocate and judge, his epitaph was said to have been:

St. Ivo was from Brittany
A lawyer but not a thief
Such a thing is beyond belief!

It is also said that when St. Ivo of Brittany died, he was accompanied to heaven by some recently deceased nuns. When they reached the Pearly Gates, St. Peter told the nuns that they would have to wait in purgatory a little bit, as there were so many nuns in heaven, that the nun's house was full and they needed to build an extension. He then turned to St. Ivo and said that as he was the first lawyer to make it to heaven, he could come right in.

Maybe God does work miracles occasionally.