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My Calling to be a Benedictine ( Part II )

From Conversion to Vocation
My Calling to be a Benedictine

A Monk ??

My first visit to Saint Vincent Archabbey, the Benedictine monastery that is now my home, was an experience of transformation and growing trust in God. Led by our campus minister I arrived with some other college students on a Friday evening and enjoyed some pizza with the group in the novitiate lounge of the monastery. I had no idea what a monastery was aside from movies and fiction novels. I had no interest in being a part of the stereotype of monastic life I had in my head from movies like Monty Python’s “The Quest for the Holy Grail.” I felt a particular call to share the gift of prayer I had received during my studies in Germany, which I had rephrased in my mind as “evangelization,” and I did not imagine that that was part of the life of a monk. So I had rather low expectations of my first visit to Saint Vincent Archabbey, but I was open and willing to learn.

After a pleasant, social time on arrival, I slept quickly and got up early to join some monks for a time of Eucharistic adoration at 5:30am in a small chapel and then later followed the monks to morning prayer and Mass with the whole monastic community in the Archabbey’s beautiful Basilica. Then after some pleasant encounters with some monks throughout the day, followed by chanted Vespers and dinner, I retired to my guest room in the monastery. I had some time before the evening recreation and so I picked up the small Rule of Saint Benedict that was in my room. Looking at the table of contents my eyes were drawn to the chapter on humility, because it was a Christian virtue I had recently become interested in. Reading the chapter on humility, however, immediately summoned up in my mind all the scary stereotypes of a harsh, inhumane, medieval monasticism that belonged more to the “Dark Ages” than to our “enlightened” modern times. (Side note: I love those passages on humility now that I have learned the deeper meaning and context in which Saint Benedict teaches us!) Suddenly the reality that I was in a monastery came crashing down on me and I wondered what had happened to my life to bring me to this point! I was aghast and started plotting my escape, not wanting to spend another night in such a place. At least I planned to hide in my bed and sleep through everything until our departure the next day.

Catching myself, I took a deep breath and said a prayer: “Jesus, I need your help! I am going to make an act of faith and go to recreation, but you need to give me something to hold on to!” Jesus is faithful. I went to recreation and discovered a cribbage game with three players awaiting a fourth. I sat down across from one of the players who was wearing a t-shirt with the words, “Ich spreche, ich lehre, ich liebe Deutsch,” and when I read it out loud, that monk lit up and engaged me in German for a few sentences. When everyone departed after our cribbage game, I stayed for almost three hours speaking to this monk and sharing with him all the events that had led me to baptism, to discern a vocation and ultimately to Saint Vincent Archabbey. In the course of sharing my journey with him, the grace returned and I was flooded with a spiritual consolation as I saw how actively God had been guiding my life. It broke through my fears and renewed my strength to stay the rest of the weekend. I left Saint Vincent the next day with such a love for the place and the monks that I declared to my spiritual director that I would love to join right away.

God directed my decision

I knew I could not join right away because I had only been baptized for a week! More important for me was the fact that I could not say I ever heard God calling me to priesthood or religious life. I knew my desire for priesthood was strong and I believed my insight to share the gift of prayer (which I had reformulated as “evangelization”) was inspired but I could not say I had heard, in a time of spiritual consolation, God confirming my call.

That confirmation came at World Youth Day in Paris. During our trip to Paris, our group spent time at the parish of Le Trinite where I had the opportunity for an extended time of Eucharistic adoration. As I knelt in the silence and read the Gospel account about the call of the first Apostles, I was inspired to ask Jesus what He wanted from me. I said to Him in my heart, “I want to do whatever you want me to do. Do you want me to become a priest?” As everything became perfectly silent inside of me in great stillness and peace, I believed I heard Him say “Yes.” That filled me with a great joy that stayed with me the rest of the day and the intensity and concreteness of the memory lingered long after that.

At the same time, it was still on my mind that my call was to “evangelization,” and so I had started to abstractly exclude the possibility of a Benedictine vocation despite the powerful first visit I had had to Saint Vincent. I did not understand how Benedictines evangelize (I can write several books on that now!). I still returned for another visit however and on that visit, one of the monks told me about a Franciscan community that was trying to live the charism of Saint Francis more radically and they were devoted to evangelization. That led me to visit the Franciscan Friars of the Renewal (the “CFRs”) in New York City. I spent a week with them and loved my visit. I loved the friars, I loved their radical zeal for the Gospel, I loved their courageous ministry to the poor and their fearless proclamation of the Gospel. I learned many things from them about how to live the faith. They helped me formulate some ideals that have stayed with me for over two decades now. To my surprise, however, that was not God’s plan for my life.

In what I planned as a final act of discernment, I divided up my spring break into several days with the CFRs followed by several days with the Benedictines at Saint Vincent Archabbey. In my days with the CFRs while I watched the postulants receive their habits as they became novices, I tried to picture myself in their gray habits. Despite my best efforts, I kept seeing myself in a black habit instead. Then as I participated in the Mass when the novices made their first vows, I tried to imagine myself kneeling there and making vows with the friars, but I kept seeing myself in the Basilica at Saint Vincent instead. Slowly an inner tension had formed during my visit to the CFRs.

In the discomfort of this inner tension, I was moved to make an act of surrender and I told the Lord that I wanted to do whatever He wanted me to do: “If you want me to go to Saint Vincent, I will go to Saint Vincent.” At that moment I was flooded with peace and all the tension was resolved. That communicated a clear message to me in spite of my preference to become a CFR at that point. But the spiritual consolation in that prayer of surrender moved me deeply and my mind quickly embraced the idea of becoming a Benedict at Saint Vincent Archabbey. A last vestige of my stubborn self-will pondered asking for the name “Francis”, but my surrender was complete when I opened to a Benedictine name and quickly remembered the name, “Boniface.” I had learned about St. Boniface during my time in Germany and remembered that he was a missionary Benedictine monk and the Apostle to Germany.

Following my visit to the CFRs I spent a few days at Saint Vincent and told the Abbot about my desire to enter the monastery. He was surprised, because I was still so newly baptized (I was Catholic for only one year at that point) and he wisely put a damper on my zeal saying that he would discuss it with the Council of Seniors. Even at that, I was not discouraged. In fact, it was a further confirmation for me because I discovered in that experience that I actually had total trust in whatever the Abbot, under consultation with the community, would discern was God’s will for me. There was a grace of obedience at work in my heart in that experience and I was already anticipating the way that God would work in my life through my Abbot. In the end, the community decided to accept me, as an exception to the general rule, only 15 months after Baptism. I entered the monastery on July 1, 1998 and I received the habit and the name Boniface a few days later.

Why a Benedictine?

In this article, I set out to explain my personal call to the Benedictine life. I have described the steps to becoming Catholic and discerning my call to Saint Vincent Archabbey, but I have revealed little about the Benedictine charism or why I believe that this is the charism I was called to embody and live out for the rest of my life. Although it sounds trite, I can say that I became a Benedictine at Saint Vincent Archabbey because I believe God called me to that. I did not become a Benedictine because we have a college or a seminary or a large community or regular liturgical prayer or a beautiful Basilica. I had some organic, human connections that brought me to the community and I believe that in prayer God called me to join that community and give my life to Him there.

As a novice I could not have described in detail what drew me to the Benedictine community at Saint Vincent Archabbey, other than prayer and the grace of God. After twenty years in the community, however, I can now see more clearly why God called me here. The initial desire that rose up in my heart is indeed the one that was able to unfold at Saint Vincent in the most beautiful way, namely “to share the gift of prayer.” Although I had translated that into “evangelization” and I have found many opportunities to evangelize, ultimately my desire was always to share the gift of prayer. I believe that was also God’s desire for me and that is why He brought me to Saint Vincent Archabbey. As a Benedictine monk in a very large and active monastery I have had abundant opportunities to learn prayer and share prayer, especially through teaching and spiritual direction.

The Benedictine life is oriented towards learning to pray. St. Benedict gives the main criterion for monastic life: “The concern must be whether the novice truly seeks God…” (RB 58:7) Fundamentally, to learn to pray is to truly seek God. The monk develops a living, personal relationship with our God who is Himself personal, in fact tri-Personal. That relationship, which is the basis for everything else, stretches across time into every moment of the monk’s life. This constant loving awareness of the presence of God could be seen as the principal theme of the Rule of Saint Benedict: “We believe that the divine presence is everywhere…” (RB 19:1). The rest of the rule arranges the life of the monk to become more responsive to God’s presence in everything he does.

In other words, the monk learns how to do everything in relationship with God. He learns how to turn his life into constant prayer. That begins with concrete prayer times as Saint Benedict makes clear in the next verse of the Rule, “But beyond the least doubt we should believe this to be especially true when we celebrate the divine office” (RB 19:2). The divine office (the liturgy of the hours) is the heartbeat of every monastery. Additionally, Saint Benedict prescribed long periods of time (up to four hours a day, as it is still practiced in more contemplative monasteries) to the practice of prayerful reading called “lectio divina.” The liturgy, lectio divina and the monastic culture of scheduled activities bracketed by prayer are the primary means for growing in prayer.

Additionally, there is a special apostolic emphasis on hospitality. This comes from the unique Benedictine vow of stability. Stability leads to the sanctification of a place and the inevitable draw for guests to experience that holy place and its praying monastic community. Saint Benedict comments in the Rule that monasteries are never without guests (RB 53:16). Furthermore, the guests at monasteries are generally those who want to share in the grace of the monastery and so we call them retreatants. The natural ministry to retreatants is teaching them to pray as a group through retreat conferences and individually through spiritual direction.

For these reasons, teaching prayer became part and parcel of my life at Saint Vincent Archabbey. As my monastic life developed, this ministry extended beyond the walls of Saint Vincent, and I began to offer retreats and spiritual direction in more diverse places and for a wide variety of people. The most recent development in my monastic journey has been to write books on spiritual direction and personal prayer and to offer spiritual direction formation for a wide range of people through our Seminary’s Institute for Ministry Formation.

I did not understand everything that God was calling me to when He drew me, through prayer, to the Benedictine monastery of Saint Vincent Archabbey, but what I have discovered and lived out has been more fulfilling than I ever dreamed possible. I am deeply grateful for my Benedictine vocation.

Fr Boniface Hicks OSB

Benedictine Spirituality III: The Ear of Your Heart

The Ear of the Heart – “attend to them with the ear of your heart”

Saint Benedict teaches the monk in the first verse that there is a deeper way of listening.  We take in reality through our five external senses (sight, hearing, etc.) but we also learn to detect something deeper.  Reality is not merely a scientfic fact.  All of reality conveys meaning as well.  When we look at a car we do not normally see a metal object made of thousands of parts.  Rather we see transportation that moves us from point A to point B.  When we look at a subway car or a subway line, it appears to us as a portal that picks us up at one place and drops us at another.  When we see physical objects, their meaning presents themselves to us first.  This is so strong, in fact, that we simply do not see things that are not meaningful to us.  When we are driving on the highway, we block out most of the things around us and focus on a few things in front of us.  When we are walking through city streets we simply never notice things that do not affect us or have any impact on our purpose.  The direction of our intention (the focus of our inner eye or the attention of our inner ear) determines what we perceive.  This is why it is so important to focus our attention appropriately, and Saint Benedict instructs us to focus the attention of the ear of heart on the Master’s instructions.

God speaks through everything.  The Word is constantly expressing Itself through creation and through history.  The Word can be heard in human events and through human voices.  Every event carries a deeper meaning if we can tune our ears to hear it.

A Benedictine motto was developed in the 18th century to summarize the Benedictine life: ora et labora (pray and work).  By focusing on prayer first, but then by balancing prayer and work, the monk learns to listen to God even during his work.  Saint Benedict noted that the monk is to “regard all utensils and goods of the monastery as sacred vessels of the altar and nothing is to be neglected” (RB 31:10-11).  This shows the potential that Saint Benedict sees for finding God in work.  Work can be carried out with attention and reverence.  The monk can listen to God with the ears of the heart as he carries out simple, mundane tasks or as he takes on complex challenges.  Throughout history, monks have carried out simple tasks such as cleaning and cooking and copying books, more complex tasks like gardening and farming, and creative work like art and music.  In those activities, monks have been innovators.  The first geneticist was a monk.  Monks developed technologies to assist in their work.  The noteworthy thing, however, is that in the midst of all of it, Benedictines have tried to listen to God with the ear of the heart.

The ear of the heart could be described as a contemplative sensitivity.  In the Catechism, contemplation, or “inner prayer” is defined as a prayer that can take place at all times and persists in the heart: “One cannot always meditate, but one can always enter into inner prayer, independently of the conditions of health, work, or emotional state. The heart is the place of this quest and encounter, in poverty and in faith” (CCC 2710).  “Contemplative prayer is hearing the Word of God” (CCC 2716) by which we “enter into the presence of him who awaits us” (CCC 2711).  St. Thomas Aquinas described contemplative prayer as a loving awareness of God’s presence.  These descriptions all point to a knowledge that is not rational, but intuitive.  We describe it as “heart-knowledge” or a hearing with the ear of the heart.

Saint Benedict encourages his monks to remain in this kind of contemplative prayer by always being attentive with the ear of the heart.  Even while the mind is dedicated to a particular task, the heart can continue listening and thus remain connected to the Word of God.   Just as we can be aware of the presence of a beloved friend in the room with us even while we are intensely focused on a particular activity, so also the monk seeks to be aware of the presence of God while he carries out his daily work.  Saint Benedict instructs the monk always to remember that he is beneath the loving gaze of God (RB 7:13-14).  He also calls the monk to continually pray in the heart, especially seeking mercy in his sinfulness (RB 7:65).  To keep this contemplative prayer alive, only short acts of recollection are needed.  This is why Saint Benedict tells the monk his prayer need not be prolonged, but rather “short and pure” (RB 20:4).  A little burst of attention, a short prayer such as “My Jesus, my mercy” or “Jesus, I trust in you” can be enough to keep the flame of loving attention alive in the heart.  The Catechism reaffirms that “Contemplative prayer is silence, the ‘symbol of the world to come’ or ‘silent love.’ Words in this kind of prayer are not speeches; they are like kindling that feeds the fire of love” (CCC 2717).  Saint Benedict directs his monks to spend many hours every day praying with Scripture and the monk can carry a few words from that time of prayer to use as “kindling” to keep the flame of contemplation alive in the heart.

We have seen now that Benedictine spirituality can be summarized in the first verse of the Rule of Saint Benedict: “Listen, my son, to the Master’s instructions and attend to them with the ear of your heart.”  By including more silence in our lives and opening our hearts in humble obedience, we can learn to listen better.  Likewise, by prioritizing our prayer and the time we spend in the place of prayer, we can learn to listen to God who is the Master and then also learn to hear Him throughout the events of the day.  Lastly, by learning to be attentive with the ear of the heart, we can carry out our daily duty with unceasing, contemplative prayer.  Such prayerful work lies at the heart of Benedictine spirituality.

Benedictine Spirituality II: The Master’s Instructions

The Divine Presence – “The Master’s instructions”

Saint Benedict exhorts the monk to listen to the “Master’s” instructions.  Who is the Master?  On the one hand the Master is God.  On the other hand, it refers to those who hold divine authority, such as the Abbot, but also to other authorities like parents, government leaders, teachers, elders, etc.  In other words, God certainly instructs us directly, but He also instructs us through other people.  This principle is repeated several times in the Rule of Benedict and it is an extremely important one for our Christian lives.  Blessed Columba Marmion, OSB noted that the central theme of the whole Rule of Benedict is expressed in this idea found in Saint Benedict’s exhortation: “We believe the divine presence is everywhere…but beyond the least doubt we should believe this to be especially true when we celebrate the divine office” (RB 19:1-2).

The beginning of our awareness of God generally happens in a religious experience.  Our communal celebrations, including the Mass, the Liturgy of the Hours and the other Sacraments, are important points of contact with God.  It is critical that they be celebrated in a reverent and devoted manner. When these great times of prayer are beautiful and prayerful, they can be a cause for conversion.  They should be bright with music, but balanced with times of silent reflection.  They must be led confidently, reverently and prayerfully.  These are the expectation of Saint Benedict when he reminds us that “beyond the least doubt we should believe” the divine presence is to be found in the divine office (RB 19:2).   We must conduct ourselves in communal prayer and in the Church as we would conduct ourselves in the presence of a mighty ruler: “Whenever we want to ask some favor of a powerful man, we do it humbly and respectfully, for fear of presumption” (RB 20:1).  Rather than carrying on raucous conversations or irreverent worldly activities in Church we must always act in a manner that reminds ourselves and also shows others that the One True God is present there in His Flesh reserved in the Tabernacle.

Saint Benedict expects us to develop a sensitivity to the divine presence by celebrating the liturgy well and taking the words of God on our lips seven times a day.  “Let us stand to sing the psalms in such a way that our minds are in harmony with our voices (mens concordet voci)” (RB 19:7).  Normally we first form words in our minds and then we speak them out with our voices.  When we pray the psalms, however, the words are given to us to speak, but then they begin to form our minds.  In this way, we allow the Word to form our way of thinking, which in turn can form our way of acting.  After repeating the words of the psalms, the liturgical prayers and the readings from Mass, our hearts become more and more sensitive to the divine presence.  We start to see his fingerprints and footprints all around us.  We see His presence in the lives of others—in the lives of other monks and in the lives of the guests who come to the monastery.  We see His Presence in our work.  We see His presence in the sick members of the community.  We see His presence in the Abbot.  We see His presence at our meals.  By becoming sensitized to the Word of God and taking on the mind of Christ, we start to see the divine presence everywhere in our lives.

This brings us back to the question, “Who is the Master?”  The Master is God and we must take time in liturgical prayer and in personal prayer in order to begin hearing God and to sensitize our hearts to His presence.  As we do that, however, we also start to see Him in everything.  The monk is the one who arranges His day around repeated acts of attention to the divine presence.  He regularly interrupts every other activity because “nothing is to be preferred to the Work of God” (RB 43:3).  With his visits to the oratory and his celebrations of the liturgy of the hours at the center of his day, the monk makes acts of recollection throughout the rest of his day to renew his awareness of the divine presence.  In Saint Benedict’s time it was already encouraged by St. John Cassian to recite the verse of Psalm 70: “God, come to my assistance.  Lord, make haste to help me.”  Cassian identified that verse as a defense against every attack of the Enemy and as a simple way to return one’s attention to God throughout the day.  In the subsequent centuries, the Jesus Prayer served a similar purpose, “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”  With these brief prayers, the monk can bring his awareness of the presence of God, which is especially strong in the places of prayer, out into the rest of his life. He can learn to hear the instructions of the Great Master through every other little “master”.  Even in sinful men or atheists, the prayerful monk can learn to be aware of the Presence of God.

Day 34 – Total Consecration

Day 34 – Total Consecration to Jesus through Mary

After 33 days of preparation, we are ready to make, or renew our consecration to Jesus through Mary. Saint Louis de Montfort has several encouragements for how to live this day. His recommendations are outlined concisely in his book True Devotion to Mary and repeated in various places on the internet such as here, where you can also find some practices to follow after making the Consecration. The most important recommendation to follow is regarding the Sacraments: there is no better preparation than a humble and sincere Sacramental Confession and a devout participation in the Holy Eucharist including Sacramental Communion. If it is not possible, for some reason, to receive the Sacraments, at least make a sincere act of contrition and a spiritual Communion.

The text for the Consecration can also be found at the link above or a more modern translation can be found here. It is beneficial to write out the Consecration for the sake of investing more love and attention in the words and solemnizing this important moment of prayer. Typesetting with a word processor and printing out a copy that you can sign is also appropriate.

Finally, we provide a slightly altered version of Saint Louis de Montfort’s Total Consecration to Jesus through Mary that captures all the depth and theological importance while adjusting the language slightly to favor the loving image of being in the womb as opposed to the less palatable image of slavery. As expressed in the Introduction at the beginning of our journey, there is no greater “slavery” than being in the womb. A baby in the womb is totally helpless with no will other than the will of the Mother. A baby in the womb is totally dependent on the Mother. And yet there are none of the negative connotations about being in the womb as compared with the many distortions that are found with “slavery.” We recognize that slavery is also a biblical concept and it is not problematic theologically, but especially in light of our American history with slavery, it can be distracting from the essence of Consecration which is about love and trust and carries none of the risks or ambiguity of the term slavery.

One other adjustment in the prayer of Total Consecration is more corrective. Though certainly well-intended by Saint Louis de Montfort, the notion that Jesus would reject or despise us and the idea that Mary is somehow a better mediator or a more merciful advocate than her Son is contrary to Catholic teaching. Saint Louis de Montfort likely expressed things in this way according to the cultural idioms of his time and to inspire greater trust in our Lady, but his expression is in danger of reinforcing false images of Jesus that could undermine our absolute trust in His Infinite Mercy. For this reason, we adjust that sentence of Saint Louis de Montfort’s formula. We leave it to our readers to decide which formula for Consecration they would prefer, but we offer this especially for the sensitive souls who need more comfort and trust than harshness and fear.

Total Consecration to Jesus through Mary

Eternal and incarnate Wisdom, most lovable and adorable Jesus, true God and true man, only Son of the eternal Father and of Mary always Virgin, I adore you profoundly, dwelling in the splendour of your Father from all eternity and in the virginal womb of Mary, your most worthy Mother, at the time of your incarnation.

I thank you for having emptied yourself in assuming the condition of a slave to set me free from the cruel slavery of the evil one. I praise and glorify you for having willingly chosen to obey Mary, your holy Mother, in all things, so that through surrendering all my power and self-determination by dwelling in her womb I may always be your faithful lover.

But I must confess that I have not kept the vows and promises, which I made to you so solemnly at my baptism. I have not fulfilled my obligations, and I do not deserve to be called your child or even your loving slave.

Because I have turned away from you in my sins and I feel so little and poor in my weakness, I do not feel great enough to approach your divine Majesty, but I do feel that I can approach you in your littleness as you dwell in Mary’s womb. That is why I turn to the intercession and the mercy of your holy Mother, whom you yourself have given me to be my meeting place with you. Through her, in her womb, I hope to obtain from you contrition and pardon for my sins, and that Wisdom whom I desire to dwell in me always.

I turn to you, then, Mary Immaculate, living tabernacle of God, in whom eternal Wisdom willed to receive the adoration of men and angels. I greet you as Queen of heaven and earth, for all that is under God has been made subject to your sovereignty. I call upon you, the unfailing refuge of sinners, confident in your mercy that has never forsaken anyone. Grant my desire for divine Wisdom and, in support of my petition, accept the promises and the offering of myself, which I now make, conscious of my littleness.

I, __________________, an unfaithful, repentant sinner, renew and ratify today through you my baptismal promises. I renounce forever Satan, his empty promises, and his evil designs, and I give myself completely to Jesus Christ, the incarnate Wisdom, to carry my cross after him for the rest of my life, and to be more faithful to him than I have been till now.

This day, with the whole court of heaven as witness, I choose you, Mary, as my Mother and Queen. I surrender and consecrate myself to you, body and soul, with all that I possess, both spiritual and material, even including the spiritual value of all my actions, past, present, and to come. I give you the full right to dispose of me and all that belongs to me, without any reservations, in whatever way you please, for the greater glory of God in time and throughout eternity. I entrust myself to your loving, maternal care with the same total abandon as the Baby Jesus who chose to dwell in your womb.

Accept, gracious Virgin, this little offering of myself, to honor and imitate the obedience, which eternal Wisdom willingly chose to have towards you, his Mother. I wish to acknowledge the authority which both of you have over this pitiful sinner. By it I wish also to thank God for the privileges bestowed on you by the Blessed Trinity. I solemnly declare that for the future I will try to honor and obey you in all things as an infant in your womb. O admirable Mother, present me to your dear Son as His little twin in your womb, so that he who redeemed me through you, will now receive me through you.

Mother of mercy, grant me the favour of obtaining the true Wisdom of God, and so make me one of those whom you love, teach and guide, whom you nourish and protect as your own infant in your womb.

Virgin most faithful, make me in everything so committed a disciple, imitator, and twin infant of Jesus, your Son, incarnate Wisdom, that I may become, through your intercession and example, fully mature with the fullness which Jesus possessed on earth, and with the fullness of his glory in heaven. Amen.

Day 33 – Knowledge of Jesus Christ

Day 33 – Christ brings us life and light in Baptism

From the Holy Gospel According to Matthew:

Now after the sabbath, toward the dawn of the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. And behold, there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord descended from heaven and came and rolled back the stone, and sat upon it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow. And for fear of him the guards trembled and became like dead men. But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid; for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples that he has risen from the dead, and behold, he is going before you to Galilee; there you will see him. Behold, I have told you.” So they departed quickly from the tomb with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples. And behold, Jesus met them and said, “Hail!” And they came up and took hold of his feet and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brethren to go to Galilee, and there they will see me.” (Matthew 28:1-10)

From Pope Benedict XVI’s homily for the Easter Vigil 2006:

His death was an act of love. At the Last Supper he anticipated death and transformed it into self-giving. His existential communion with God was concretely an existential communion with God’s love, and this love is the real power against death, it is stronger than death. The Resurrection was like an explosion of light, an explosion of love which dissolved the hitherto indissoluble compenetration of “dying and becoming”. It ushered in a new dimension of being, a new dimension of life in which, in a transformed way, matter too was integrated and through which a new world emerges. …

The great explosion of the Resurrection has seized us in Baptism so as to draw us on. Thus we are associated with a new dimension of life into which, amid the tribulations of our day, we are already in some way introduced. To live one’s own life as a continual entry into this open space: this is the meaning of being baptized, of being Christian. This is the joy of the Easter Vigil. The Resurrection is not a thing of the past, the Resurrection has reached us and seized us. We grasp hold of it, we grasp hold of the risen Lord, and we know that he holds us firmly even when our hands grow weak. We grasp hold of his hand, and thus we also hold on to one another’s hands, and we become one single subject, not just one thing. I, but no longer I: this is the formula of Christian life rooted in Baptism, the formula of the Resurrection within time. I, but no longer I: if we live in this way, we transform the world. It is a formula contrary to all ideologies of violence, it is a programme opposed to corruption and to the desire for power and possession.

From Pope Benedict XVI’s homily for the Easter Vigil 2008:

Through his radical love for us, in which the heart of God and the heart of man touched, Jesus Christ truly took light from heaven and brought it to the earth – the light of truth and the fire of love that transform man’s being. He brought the light, and now we know who God is and what God is like. Thus we also know what our human situation is: what we are, and for what purpose we exist. When we are baptized, the fire of this light is brought down deep within ourselves. Thus, in the early Church, Baptism was also called the Sacrament of Illumination: God’s light enters into us; thus we ourselves become children of light. We must not allow this light of truth, that shows us the path, to be extinguished. We must protect it from all the forces that seek to eliminate it so as to cast us back into darkness regarding God and ourselves. Darkness, at times, can seem comfortable. I can hide, and spend my life asleep. Yet we are not called to darkness, but to light. In our baptismal promises, we rekindle this light, so to speak, year by year. Yes, I believe that the world and my life are not the product of chance, but of eternal Reason and eternal Love, they are created by Almighty God. Yes, I believe that in Jesus Christ, in his incarnation, in his Cross and resurrection, the face of God has been revealed; that in him, God is present in our midst, he unites us and leads us towards our goal, towards eternal Love. Yes, I believe that the Holy Spirit gives us the word of truth and enlightens our hearts; I believe that in the communion of the Church we all become one Body with the Lord, and thus we encounter his resurrection and eternal life. The Lord has granted us the light of truth. This light is also fire, a powerful force coming from God, a force that does not destroy, but seeks to transform our hearts, so that we truly become men of God, and so that his peace can become active in this world.

Reflection:

Christ’s Resurrection has changed everything. He has come down to take our hand and He has come down to illumine the way. He helps us navigate the treacherous paths of life, picking us up and walking with us even across the threshold of death, when the time comes for us. Because He has come and changed us into Himself through Baptism, we are never alone, “we grasp hold of the risen Lord, and we know that he holds us firmly even when our hands grow weak.” We do not need to fear our weakness, but it becomes the point at which we meet Him. When we were most desperate He came to us and took us by the hand. When the night was darkest, He came to us and brought us the light of heaven. “Now we know who God is and what God is like.” Now we have a fire from heaven that warms us and transforms our hearts. This is the fire that first burned in the Heart of Mary who was the first redeemed. This is the fire that warmed the Infant God in her womb and warms each us of us who choose to rest in her womb, beneath her Immaculate Heart.

Prayers:

Litany of the Powerlessness of Jesus

Litany of Christ Living in the Womb of Mary

Prayer of St Thomas Aquinas before Holy Communion

Prayer of Entrustment to the Womb of Mary

Day 32 – Knowledge of Jesus Christ

Day 32 – Jesus Dies, the Word is Silenced

A Reading from the Holy Gospel according to Matthew:

When it was evening, there came a rich man from Arimathea, named Joseph, who also was a disciple of Jesus. He went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Then Pilate ordered it to be given to him. And Joseph took the body, and wrapped it in a clean linen shroud, and laid it in his own new tomb, which he had hewn in the rock; and he rolled a great stone to the door of the tomb, and departed. Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were there, sitting opposite the tomb. (Matthew 26:57-61)

From Pope Saint John Paul II’s Address in Turin May 24, 1998:

The Shroud is also an image of powerlessness: the powerlessness of death, in which the ultimate consequence of the mystery of the Incarnation is revealed. The burial cloth spurs us to measure ourselves against the most troubling aspect of the mystery of the Incarnation, which is also the one that shows with how much truth God truly became man, taking on our condition in all things, except sin. Everyone is shaken by the thought that not even the Son of God withstood the power of death, but we are all moved at the thought that he so shared our human condition as willingly to subject himself to the total powerlessness of the moment when life is spent. It is the experience of Holy Saturday, an important stage on Jesus’ path to Glory, from which a ray of light shines on the sorrow and death of every person. By reminding us of Christ’s victory, faith gives us the certainty that the grave is not the ultimate goal of existence. God calls us to resurrection and immortal life.

The Shroud is an image of silence. There is a tragic silence of incommunicability, which finds its greatest expression in death, and there is the silence of fruitfulness, which belongs to whoever refrains from being heard outwardly in order to delve to the roots of truth and life. The Shroud expresses not only the silence of death but also the courageous and fruitful silence of triumph over the transitory, through total immersion in God’s eternal present. It thus offers a moving confirmation of the fact that the merciful omnipotence of our God is not restrained by any power of evil, but knows instead how to make the very power of evil contribute to good. Our age needs to rediscover the fruitfulness of silence, in order to overcome the dissipation of sounds, images and chatter that too often prevent the voice of God from being heard.

Reflection:

Like all of us, Jesus ended as He began: helpless, powerless, and silent. This was His victory. He never fled from the limitations of our humanity, from His first moment in Mary’s womb to His last breath on the Cross, He lived our humanity to its extremes. He drank the full cup of our humanity all the way to the dregs. As Saint John Paul II reminds us, this comforts us in knowing that we are never alone when we experience the weakness and powerlessness that is a part of being human. We are never abandoned by the One who can share it with us and so also carry us through it. And just as Jesus was accompanied in His weakest moments by Mary His Mother, He gives her to us to accompany us in the same way. When we feel most weak and poor, we can know that we are safely enclosed in the womb of Mary who always loves us and cares for us.

Prayers:

Litany of the Powerlessness of Jesus

Litany of Christ Living in the Womb of Mary

Prayer of St Thomas Aquinas before Holy Communion

Prayer of Entrustment to the Womb of Mary

Day 31 – Knowledge of Jesus Christ

Day 31 – God seeks man in the womb of Mary

From the Holy Gospel according to Luke:

Now the tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to hear him. And the Pharisees and the scribes murmured, saying, “This man receives sinners and eats with them.” So he told them this parable:“What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness, and go after the one which is lost, until he finds it? And when he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and his neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep which was lost.’ Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance. (Luke 15:1-7)

From Pope Saint John Paul II’s Letter Tertio Millenio Adveniente #7:

 

In Jesus Christ God not only speaks to man but also seeks him out. The Incarnation of the Son of God attests that God goes in search of man. Jesus speaks of this search as the finding of a lost sheep (cf. Lk 15:1-7). It is a search which begins in the heart of God and culminates in the Incarnation of the Word. If God goes in search of man, created in his own image and likeness, he does so because he loves him eternally in the Word, and wishes to raise him in Christ to the dignity of an adoptive son. God therefore goes in search of man who is his special possession in a way unlike any other creature. Man is God’s possession by virtue of a choice made in love: God seeks man out, moved by his fatherly heart.

Why does God seek man out? Because man has turned away from him, hiding himself as Adam did among the trees of the Garden of Eden (cf. Gen 3:8-10). Man allowed himself to be led astray by the enemy of God (cf. Gen 3:13). Satan deceived man, persuading him that he too was a god, that he, like God, was capable of knowing good and evil, ruling the world according to his own will without having to take into account the divine will (cf. Gen 3:5). Going in search of man through his Son, God wishes to persuade man to abandon the paths of evil which lead him farther and farther afield. “Making him abandon” those paths means making man understand that he is taking the wrong path; it means overcoming the evil which is everywhere found in human history. Overcoming evil: this is the meaning of the Redemption. This is brought about in the sacrifice of Christ, by which man redeems the debt of sin and is reconciled to God. The Son of God became man, taking a body and soul in the womb of the Virgin, precisely for this reason: to become the perfect redeeming sacrifice. The religion of the Incarnation is the religion of the world’s Redemption through the sacrifice of Christ, wherein lies victory over evil, over sin and over death itself. Accepting death on the Cross, Christ at the same time reveals and gives life, because he rises again and death no longer has power over him.

Reflection:

God is seeking us! He is looking for you. He wants to bring you home. He longs for us, thirsts for us. Where does He go looking? Where we are most helpless, most powerless, most weak, hurting, lost, forgotten, abandoned, overlooked and hidden. When we are feeling so small that we could fit into a womb, because we are so ashamed that we shrivel up and hide in our sinfulness, because we are so belittled by the harshness and domination of others, or because we feel so weak and insignificant, that is when Christ is seeking us. He becomes small like us. He takes on our sins, the rebukes of the powerful and the weakness of our humanity. He seeks us in the womb of Mary, embracing all the littleness of and pain of being human that He might fill it with all the sweetness of divine love.

 

Prayers:

Litany of the Powerlessness of Jesus

Litany of Christ Living in the Womb of Mary

Prayer of St Thomas Aquinas before Holy Communion

Prayer of Entrustment to the Womb of Mary

Day 30 – Knowledge of Jesus Christ

Day 30 – Mary, the Eucharist and the Incarnation

A reading from the Holy Gospel according to Luke:

And Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I have no husband?” And the angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God. (Luke 1:34-35)

And he took bread, and when he had given thanks he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” And likewise the chalice after supper, saying, “This chalice which is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.” (Luke 22:19-20)

From Pope Saint John Paul II’s Apostolic Letter Ecclesia de Eucharistia #55:

In a certain sense Mary lived her Eucharistic faith even before the institution of the Eucharist, by the very fact that she offered her virginal womb for the Incarnation of God’s Word. The Eucharist, while commemorating the passion and resurrection, is also in continuity with the incarnation. At the Annunciation Mary conceived the Son of God in the physical reality of his body and blood, thus anticipating within herself what to some degree happens sacramentally in every believer who receives, under the signs of bread and wine, the Lord’s body and blood.

As a result, there is a profound analogy between the Fiat which Mary said in reply to the angel, and the Amen which every believer says when receiving the body of the Lord. Mary was asked to believe that the One whom she conceived “through the Holy Spirit” was “the Son of God” (Lk 1:30-35). In continuity with the Virgin’s faith, in the Eucharistic mystery we are asked to believe that the same Jesus Christ, Son of God and Son of Mary, becomes present in his full humanity and divinity under the signs of bread and wine.

“Blessed is she who believed” (Lk 1:45). Mary also anticipated, in the mystery of the incarnation, the Church’s Eucharistic faith. When, at the Visitation, she bore in her womb the Word made flesh, she became in some way a “tabernacle” – the first “tabernacle” in history – in which the Son of God, still invisible to our human gaze, allowed himself to be adored by Elizabeth, radiating his light as it were through the eyes and the voice of Mary. And is not the enraptured gaze of Mary as she contemplated the face of the newborn Christ and cradled him in her arms that unparalleled model of love which should inspire us every time we receive Eucharistic communion?

…

What must Mary have felt as she heard from the mouth of Peter, John, James and the other Apostles the words spoken at the Last Supper: “This is my body which is given for you” (Lk 22:19)? The body given up for us and made present under sacramental signs was the same body which she had conceived in her womb! For Mary, receiving the Eucharist must have somehow meant welcoming once more into her womb that heart which had beat in unison with hers and reliving what she had experienced at the foot of the Cross.

Reflection:

Every Mass brings us to the womb of Mary, where Christ first became present in His Body and Blood. Every Tabernacle is a copy of that first Tabernacle, which is Mary’s womb, where Christ spent the first nine months of His life. If we want to be close to Jesus in His Body and Blood, even to hide ourselves away in the Tabernacle with Him, then we can do that by consecrating ourselves to Mary, by hiding away in her womb. Jesus remains there in all His hiddenness and littleness, in that first Tabernacle. Are we too big too fit, too full of ourselves, too busy with the things of the world? Or can we let ourselves be hidden in love to find the Hidden Love who remains wrapped in love? Can we allow ourselves to be confined to God’s will, which is nothing other than the womb, than the heart of Mary, who was always freely confined to God’s will? Mary teaches us to make a home in ourselves for Jesus, a Tabernacle, a womb in our hearts for Him to remain always. We do that by uttering with her our Yes to God’s will…Fiat.

Prayers:

Litany of the Powerlessness of Jesus

Litany of Christ Living in the Womb of Mary

Prayer of St Thomas Aquinas before Holy Communion

Prayer of Entrustment to the Womb of Mary

Day 29 Knowledge of Jesus Christ – Humility of the Eucharist

Day 29 – Saints on the Humility of Jesus in the Eucharist

A Reading from the Holy Gospel according to John:

For my flesh is food indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so he who eats me will live because of me. This is the bread which came down from heaven, not such as the fathers ate and died; he who eats this bread will live for ever.” This he said in the synagogue, as he taught at Capernaum.

Many of his disciples, when they heard it, said, “This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?” But Jesus, knowing in himself that his disciples murmured at it, said to them, “Do you take offense at this? Then what if you were to see the Son of man ascending where he was before? It is the Spirit that gives life, the flesh is of no avail; the words that I have spoken to you are Spirit and life. But there are some of you that do not believe.” For Jesus knew from the first who those were that did not believe, and who it was that would betray him. And he said, “This is why I told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted him by the Father.”

After this many of his disciples drew back and no longer walked with him. Jesus said to the Twelve, “Will you also go away?” (John 6:55-67)

From various saints about the humility of Jesus in the Eucharist:

Saint Francis wrote to his brothers:

“O admirable height and stupendous condescension! O humble sublimity! O sublime humility! that the Lord of the universe, God and the Son of God, so humbles Himself that for our salvation He hides Himself under a morsel of bread. Consider, brothers, the humility of God and pour out your hearts before Him, and be humbled that you may be exalted by Him. Do not therefore keep back anything for yourselves that He may receive you entirely who gives Himself up entirely to you.

Saint Faustina wrote in her Diary (Entry #80):

O Jesus, Divine Prisoner of Love, when I consider Your love and how You emptied Yourself for me, my senses fail me. You hide Your inconceivable majesty and lower Yourself to miserable me. O King of Glory, though You hide Your beauty, yet the eye of my soul rends the veil. I see the angelic choirs giving You honor without cease, and all the heavenly Powers praising You without cease, and without cease they are saying: Holy, Holy, Holy.

Oh, who will comprehend Your love and Your unfathomable mercy toward us! O Prisoner of Love, I lock up my poor heart in this tabernacle, that it may adore You without cease night and day. I know of no obstacle in this adoration, and even though I be physically distant, my heart is always with You. Nothing can put a stop to my love for You. No obstacles exist for me. O my Jesus, I will console You for all the ingratitude, the blasphemies, the coldness, the hatred of the wicked, the sacrileges. O Jesus, I want to burn as a pure offering and to be consumed before the throne of Your hiddenness. I plead with You unceasingly for poor dying sinners.

Mother Teresa of Calcutta said:

“The humility of Jesus can be seen in the crib, in the exile to Egypt, in the hidden life, in the inability to make people understand Him, in the desertion of His apostles, in the hatred of His persecutors, in all the terrible suffering and death of His Passion, and now in His permanent state of humility in the tabernacle, where He has reduced Himself to such a small particle of bread that the priest can hold Him with two fingers. The more we empty ourselves, the more room we give God to fill us.”

Saint Therese of Lisieux rejoiced in the Communion of Midnight Mass:

“God would have to work a little miracle to make me grow up in an instant, and this miracle He performed on that unforgettable Christmas day. On that luminous night which sheds such light on the delights of the Holy Trinity, Jesus, the gentle, little Child of only one hour, changed the night of my soul into rays of light. On that night when He made Himself subject to weakness and suffering for love of me, He made me strong and courageous, arming me with His weapons. Since that night I have never been defeated in any combat, but rather walked from victory to victory, beginning, so to speak, “to run as a giant”!

Reflection:

Do we see the humility of Jesus who continually comes to us in a way that makes us easily overlook Him? We cannot tell the difference between a consecrated host and an unconsecrated host—our senses cannot tell the difference between Jesus and a simple piece of bread. Do we promote ourselves? Are we offended when others do not know who we are? Do we push ourselves forward to make sure we are seen or correct others when they do not acknowledge our credentials. Do we feel self-important? Do we see how contrary these attitudes are to the humility of Jesus who remains anonymously, invisibly hidden beneath the appearance of bread and even then hidden away in a Tabernacle? This is how the baby is in the womb, especially a baby so small that the mother does not even appear to be pregnant. Are we willing to be so small, so hidden, so overlooked as to be a tiny, tiny baby in the womb of Mary? If so, then we are drawing closer to fulfilling the command of Jesus, “Be imitators of me, for I am meek and humble of heart.” (Matthew 11:29)

Prayers:

We pray first with Mother Teresa: “Mary, mother of Jesus, give us your heart, so beautiful, so pure, so  immaculate, so full of love and humility, that we may be able to receive Jesus in the bread of life, love him as you love him, and serve him in the distressing disguise of the poor.”

Litany of the Powerlessness of Jesus

Litany of Christ Living in the Womb of Mary

Prayer of St Thomas Aquinas before Holy Communion

Prayer of Entrustment to the Womb of Mary

Day 28 Knowledge of Jesus Christ – Christ became poor

Day 28 – Christ became poor

A Reading from the Second Letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians:

For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich. (2 Cor 8:9)

From Pope Francis’s Message for Lent 2014:

[Christ] does not reveal himself cloaked in worldly power and wealth but rather in weakness and poverty: “though He was rich, yet for your sake he became poor …”. Christ, the eternal Son of God, one with the Father in power and glory, chose to be poor; he came amongst us and drew near to each of us; he set aside his glory and emptied himself so that he could be like us in all things (cf. Phil 2:7; Heb 4:15). God’s becoming man is a great mystery! But the reason for all this is his love, a love which is grace, generosity, a desire to draw near, a love which does not hesitate to offer itself in sacrifice for the beloved. Charity, love, is sharing with the one we love in all things. Love makes us similar, it creates equality, it breaks down walls and eliminates distances. God did this with us. Indeed, Jesus “worked with human hands, thought with a human mind, acted by human choice and loved with a human heart. Born of the Virgin Mary, he truly became one of us, like us in all things except sin.” (Gaudium et Spes #22).

By making himself poor, Jesus did not seek poverty for its own sake but, as Saint Paul says “that by his poverty you might become rich“. This is no mere play on words or a catch phrase. Rather, it sums up God’s logic, the logic of love, the logic of the incarnation and the cross. God did not let our salvation drop down from heaven, like someone who gives alms from their abundance out of a sense of altruism and piety. Christ’s love is different! When Jesus stepped into the waters of the Jordan and was baptized by John the Baptist, he did so not because he was in need of repentance, or conversion; he did it to be among people who need forgiveness, among us sinners, and to take upon himself the burden of our sins. In this way he chose to comfort us, to save us, to free us from our misery. It is striking that the Apostle states that we were set free, not by Christ’s riches but by his poverty. Yet Saint Paul is well aware of the “the unsearchable riches of Christ” (Eph 3:8), that he is “heir of all things” (Heb 1:2).

So what is this poverty by which Christ frees us and enriches us? It is his way of loving us, his way of being our neighbour, just as the Good Samaritan was neighbour to the man left half dead by the side of the road (cf. Lk 10:25ff ). What gives us true freedom, true salvation and true happiness is the compassion, tenderness and solidarity of his love. Christ’s poverty which enriches us is his taking flesh and bearing our weaknesses and sins as an expression of God’s infinite mercy to us. Christ’s poverty is the greatest treasure of all: Jesus’ wealth is that of his boundless confidence in God the Father, his constant trust, his desire always and only to do the Father’s will and give glory to him. Jesus is rich in the same way as a child who feels loved and who loves its parents, without doubting their love and tenderness for an instant. Jesus’ wealth lies in his being the Son; his unique relationship with the Father is the sovereign prerogative of this Messiah who is poor. When Jesus asks us to take up his “yoke which is easy”, he asks us to be enriched by his “poverty which is rich” and his “richness which is poor”, to share his filial and fraternal Spirit, to become sons and daughters in the Son, brothers and sisters in the firstborn brother (cf. Rom 8:29).

It has been said that the only real regret lies in not being a saint (L. Bloy); we could also say that there is only one real kind of poverty: not living as children of God and brothers and sisters of Christ…

Reflection:

Jesus came to share His wealth with us. Pope Francis explains the wealth of Jesus: “Jesus’ wealth is that of his boundless confidence in God the Father, his constant trust…” and he further clarifies: “Jesus’ wealth lies in his being the Son; his unique relationship with the Father…” To share this wealth with us, Jesus became poor. He accepted human love in place of divine love: the love of Joseph and the love of Mary. He accepted human parents and human helplessness instead of His divine Father and His divine power. But because He could not actually lose His divine Father or His Father’s divine power, He actually filled the poverty of human love from human parents with divine love. Now we too, who are poor, can experience the wealth of Christ, because we can call His Father “our Father” and we can learn about His Fatherhood from our human fathers and mothers and we can receive glimpses of divine love through our experiences of impoverished human love. And so our human experience has been radically transformed because Jesus has entered fully into it and blessed all of it as the way to receive His wealth—His boundless confidence in the Father and the richness of the Father’s love. “Jesus is rich in the same way as a child who feels loved and who loves its parents, without doubting their love and tenderness for an instant.” And in opening Mary’s womb for us to share His experience, He opens the door for us to share in that richness.

Prayers:

Litany of the Powerlessness of Jesus

Litany of Christ Living in the Womb of Mary

Prayer of St Thomas Aquinas before Holy Communion

Prayer of Entrustment to the Womb of Mary