A Caliber Classical Celebration of the Ordinary Form

An essay by Father Cávana Wallace, the pastor of St. Margaret Parish, Oceanside, California

Although the parish church of Saint Margaret in Oceanside, California was purposefully built two years ago for the celebration of the Novus Ordo Mass, its neo-Romanesque architecture and sacred space lend itself with equal measure to the forma extraordinaria, celebrated regularly on Sunday evenings as a Missa Cantata. With a solid stone altar at the center of a cruciform church, the backdrop of a medieval-styled Holy Rood Screen and seventy foot ceilings, the two forms of the Roman Rite complement, rather than compete with each other in this unique building.

Although open to the influence of the ancient catholic rites, the parish of St. Margaret is not exclusively defined by them. Rather, it is (as it should be) the Mass as envisioned by the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council which is the norm around which regular parishioners naturally gravitate to. On Sundays, families typically attend this ordinary form of the liturgy so that after the “Mass is ended”, their children might go directly into Sunday School/CCD and adult candidates for the Sacraments to attend enquiry classes. With an open piazza, not unlike St. Peter’s in miniature, parish fellowship and community is easily recognized around simmering coffee pots and paper napkins for the best Sunday doughnuts in Oceanside, California.

Yet whether the morning modern Mass in English or the evening traditional Mass in Latin, one common thread which holds both forms of the Mass together in this parish is the attention given to the beauty of each Sunday liturgy. Both are celebrated with all the "tools of the sacred" and supervised by knowledgeable masters of ceremonies. Their role is to ensure that the priest¬-celebrant can focus without distraction on what he was ordained to do - to offer up the sacrifice of the Mass for himself and those entrusted to his care. Interestingly, after Mass, increasingly parishioners will comment ''that was a beautiful Mass", rather than "I enjoyed your sermon".

In a parish of 1200 families, many of them young and ethnically diverse, the "gravitational attraction" between ancient and modem rites is evident by families comfortable in each of these forms of these sacred liturgies. By attending both, many have come to learn and appreciate the unique language of the sacred in every celebration. Articulated in subtle tones by graceful movements, the subconscious is awakened by the gentle flickering of candles, the subtle fragrance of good incense and a silence which speaks a thousand words. And this is the norm for the ordinary form of the Roman Rite - celebrated prayerfully and with care in this parish church.

What is sometimes called the Mass of Paul VI, this liturgy can easily find a home in any architecture which embraces sacred art and form in continuity with the churches throughout the ages. In doing so human commentary is avoided and an inherent sense of the sacred is stirred up from within. What has helped St. Margaret parishioners immensely has been the choice of sacred music and song. Instead of popular rhythms and beats, the introits and antiphons proper to the Mass are sung in English to familiar classical tones. When Gregorian chant and polyphony fill the air at the preparation of the gifts and during the time of thanksgiving after Holy Communion, one senses a harmony in tune with the supernatural direction of a dynamic and ancient liturgy -onward and upward into eternity.

A sampling and insight into our choice of sacred music and song by her ordinary yet extraordinary choir has now been produced with the release of a CD. In these live recordings, the St. Margaret Singers (regular parishioners who have been taught this discipline of prayer) have captured the tones, melodies and prayers sung and celebrated during our regular Sunday liturgies. Of course, a music recording only captures one of the human senses and by listening to it in the comfort of one's home one might be excused for creative liturgical imagination. But you can not beat the real thing which, as first described by St. Pius X in the early 1900's, is full and active participation in the Holy Mass itself.

It is along these noble sentiments that every Mass of every form, in every rite of our Catholic tradition aspires. St. Margaret's is one parish of, no doubt, many that is grateful for the opportunity to celebrate the Mass of Paul VI in the light of the continuity of ages past. We have learnt much and we have prayed well. Especially grateful is the parish priest for his MCs, who help him “do the job” that he was ordained to do and to do it fittingly. We hope that the fruits of our labor will help us on our onward journey to that place where we might someday, with all the angels and saints in the eternal heavenly liturgy, see our God face to face through Christ our Lord. Amen

To order the St. Margaret Singers sacred music CD visit the parish website at www.oceanside4christ.com

Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ the King

Jn XVIII 33-37

Pilate and Jesus represent two opposite ideas of leadership. Pilate can conceive of no other way of governing or leading than that of being able to accumulate as much political control as possible. He had good role models- the Roman Emperor Tiberius on one side, and King Herod the Great on the other. Pilate thinks of a state founded on power and maintained by force. The kingdom Jesus has in mind is not imposed by any military power or by the threat of force. If it was, clearly, "angels would have fought to prevent [him] being surrendered to...” And this is what baffles Pontius Pilate. He can not conceive of a king who has been sentenced to death by his own people and who puts up no resistance.

When a king or leader becomes a dictator, a tyrant, when he exploits those entrusted to his care and abuses the goodwill of the people out of a compulsive need to be in power, then it is right and necessary for the people to say "no". U. S. history serves us as an example. But if a king or leader is just, good, committed to the well-being of his subjects, truly compassionate - has the ability to truly suffer with those who suffer, then the people will pledge their allegiance as a sign of their trust. This is why the model Christ takes, is that of a Shepherd – a Good Shepherd. Unfortunately, there have been too many examples throughout history of bad kings, ruthless leaders, corrupt politicians and opportunists, to the point that it is now understandable that the credibility of leadership has been severely damaged.

But even though we do not shy away from calling Jesus Christ King, we do not see in his title the cobwebs of some archaic form of monarchy- instead, we see the perfect example of authentic leadership, a shepherd who is willing to literary put his life on the line for the flock entrusted to his care. Therefore, as Christians we can and ought to look to those who lead us or wish to shepherd us and ask for our trust, that they demonstrate in their own lives a personal commitment to do whatever it takes to protect the most vulnerability members of our society, beginning with the tiny unborn child of the frightened mother and those who are sick, hospitalized or homebound – often forgotten by the world. Those who take it upon themselves to serve us in leadership, if they themselves declare any allegiance to Christ the Good Shepherd, should likewise be willing to sacrifice a king’s random for the most vulnerable.

For this reason, we can never remain silent when the right to life of every human being is violated or threatened. Because Christ dared to speak out for those who had no voice, he paid a price - one we should never be afraid of that cost.)
At the beginning of Christianity, the Roman emperors trembled when they witnessed the rapid growth and spread of Christianity through their lands. Christians were persecuted, not because they would not fit in. They were persecuted because they dared to say "no" to a political power which was so used to getting everything its own way.

This is our contribution to the Kingdom of God – to remind those in power and with authority, that they have a God-given responsibility and unique opportunity to safe-guard and protect the dignity of each and every one of us, our families, our children and especially the unborn child, those with special needs, the sick and infirm who serve us well in reminding us how precious and fragile human life is, and how Christ our King and Good Shepherd demonstrates that every human life is worth fighting for and ultimately, worth dying for.

CCC 544 El Reino pertenece a los pobres y a los pequeños, es decir a los que lo acogen con un corazón humilde. Jesús fue enviado para "anunciar la Buena Nueva a los pobres" (Lc 4, 18; cf. 7, 22). Los declara bienaventurados porque de "ellos es el Reino de los cielos" (Mt 5, 3); a los "pequeños" es a quienes el Padre se ha dignado revelar las cosas que ha ocultado a los sabios y prudentes (cf. Mt 11, 25). Jesús, desde el pesebre hasta la cruz comparte la vida de los pobres; conoce el hambre (cf. Mc 2, 23-26; Mt 21,18), la sed (cf. Jn 4,6-7; 19,28) y la privación (cf. Lc 9, 58). Aún más: se identifica con los pobres de todas clases y hace del amor activo hacia ellos la condición para entrar en su Reino (cf. Mt 25, 31-46).)

Matthew XXIV 15-25 (Last Sunday after Pentecost)

The Church now starts to bring to a conclusion the great journey it asked us to begin last year at the beginning of Advent. In doing so, the message of the Gospel for this Sunday alerts us that, even if we should find ourselves afraid of the darkness of our world, do not turn back or be afraid even if we should see the final days and the battle between good and evil escalate.

To help us in this refection, as Catholic Christians, we have a long ancient tradition of looking outward to the created order of the universe to a divine language as if left lingering in the things of the natural world. To illustrate this point, this was a time of the year feared by the ancient people of the northern portions of this world. As day followed each day, the light became weaker, the night shadows grow longer and darkness slowly claimed a greater grip over the land. It was as if there was a tension, a conflict between the forces of light and darkness.

As if mimicking the colors of a dying, setting sun – like the last flickers of a campfire’s flame, the leaves of the trees would change their color and drop to the ground dead. Remaining leaves clinging on to the branches would be brushed off and swept away in the storms and heavy rain – a further indication of the drama of nature slowly shutting down and, in appearances, letting go of control.

Yet, the laws of nature are prepared for this predictable conclusion. Its whole cycle of life has its end in mind. We do not see a last minute and frantic panic of the season of summer as the fall/autumn creeps up upon it. Summer knows the fall will arrive – it readies itself for it. The fall knows the winter is coming – it readies itself for it - submits to the death of winter. It does not fight it. It gives in. There is no resistance. There is no fear. We could almost say, imbedded in the design of God’s creation is an order, a design, wisdom, a natural law.

Yet the Gospel warns us, as the Church does continually, against the allurement of worldly riches and the temptation of earthy riches and achievements. When he visited Lourdes, Pope Benedict told more than a quarter of a million people that the modern world had turned money, possessions and power into idols as false as the gold and silver statues worshipped by the pagans of antiquity. He said, "Has not our modern world created its own idols. Has it not imitated, perhaps inadvertently, the pagans of antiquity, by diverting man from his true end, from the joy of living eternally with God?"

It maybe that, in the new circumstances of this world, when politics become increasingly manipulative over the emotions and minds of the unsuspecting, as Christians we can not take for granted the free exercise of our faith and as Catholics our way of life must be ever more clearly defined and set apart from the culture we find ourselves living in. Only then can be safeguarded from false prophets and not taken in by the bells and whistles of a modern world.

Clearly, it is the Mass that defines us, the Mass that teaches us, the Mass which protects and secures or faith for it is here we encounter Christ and touch heaven. Because we have the Mass there is no room for fear.

216. ¿Qué es la esperanza de los cielos nuevos y de la tierra nueva? Después del juicio final, el universo entero, liberado de la esclavitud de la corrupción, participará de la gloria de Cristo, inaugurando «los nuevos cielos y la tierra nueva» (2 P 3, 13). Así se alcanzará la plenitud del Reino de Dios, es decir, la realización definitiva del designio salvífico de Dios de «hacer que todo tenga a Cristo por Cabeza, lo que está en los cielos y lo que está en la tierra» (Ef 1, 10). Dios será entonces «todo en todos» (1 Co 15, 28), en la vida eterna.

As we bring this Church year to a close and prepare for beginning of the season of Advent next week, the prayer of the Venerable John Henry Cardinal Newman, the great nineteenth century convert and priest might guide us gently through all the trials and tribulations we have face and still must endure through many days of darkness ahead.

O Lord support us all the day long, until the shadows lengthen and the evening comes, the busy world is hushed, the fever of life is over, and our work is done. Then Lord, in your mercy, grant us safe lodging, a holy rest, and peace at the last.

33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Mk 13:24-32

The architecture of this church, even in a subtle way, allows us to meditate and appreciate the Christian journey. It begins when you walk towards the church, turning our backs on the outside world of noise and confusion and being gently nudged into the embracing arms of the piazza and then pointed in the direction of the front door – almost like approaching the gate of heaven. Entering in to the dark narthex, we are reminded by the etchings on the one of the walls and the flickering candles, of the great historic episodes of our salvation, and on the other side of the wall, what might be even called the beginning of a slide show of the history of the church that will ultimately take us from the beginning of the first century to the end of the twentieth. But in order to truly enter into that journey, the circle and timeline on the floor remind us that we are to walk with Christ, through the darkness of his passion and death, and so enter into the fullness of the light and prepare to climb the mountain of the Lord to see him face to face.

What religious imagery guides us as we leave this place to go out into the world and from this world, what can help point us towards our final destination n such a way that would keep us mindful of the duty to sow seeds here on earth that would be planted for the eternal harvest?

When we leave from this place we should take notice of Last Judgment scene above the doors on our way out. It is modeled after a painting by Rogier van der Weyden. It is similar to Michelangelo's rendition of the Last Judgment found in the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican of which we are more familiar with. It has all the same themes and characters. Around the throne of Christ are the angels and the saints of heaven. Below them is the scene of the dead raising from the earth.

Interestingly this Last Judgment scene is based on today's first Scripture reading. (Dn 12:1-3)The mural has St. Michael the Archangel in the middle. He balances in the scales two identical people, as if to say that each one of us is born with equal opportunities to do good, or to do evil. We can tip the scales one way or another. In this painting we also see consequences of our choices. On the right we see people being guided gently, even carefully into heaven. On the left are those who are being dragged, into to the pit of hell and in falling down into the hole, desperately reaching out and dragging as many people as they can with them.

The original was painted in the 1450's to hang in the chapel of a French hospice. For over 500 years this hospital not only looked after those who were dying, but also the elderly, disabled, orphans, the sick, women about to give birth, and the many destitute. The Last Judgment scene painted in the hospital chapel was not meant to frighten the patients into repentance, but because they were in a place where they received the sacraments, in particular confession and the Holy Mass, they could be comforted with the assurance of union with God, when every tear will be wiped away and we shall see Him as How truly is.

Painting a Last Judgment scene depicting the blessedness of heaven and torment of hell, which we must pass under every Sunday, seems a very daring move. Not only will we have to pass under this image as we go back into the world, but it will remind us, as the Scriptures do today, of the reality of life and death.

Our Christian faith talks continually about death. Christ's whole life is summed up in his death. The crucifix with the dying Christ, not the empty cross, receives much attention in our churches. In this month of November, as the shadows lengthen and the days become shorter – during the month when we pray in particular for our beloved dead and set up an altar to remember them and pray for their souls, we can not but be reminded of the shortness of life.

God is merciful, but he will not force us into heaven if we do not want to go there. Our everyday choices ultimately communicate to him our desires. The way we live our lives on earth will ultimately dictate the shape our lives will take forever. For the Christian, death must always be welcomed, not feared. For one short sleep, and we awaken eternally.

32 Sunday in Ordinary Time B

Mark XII 28-44 (ccc2685-2781 cmp565ff)

The Gospel today offers us an introduction, in a way, to the theory of prayer - the raising up of the mind and heart to God in blessing, adoration, petition, intercession, thanksgiving and praise and how Sacred Scripture can help us, especially the psalms. But if we were to leave it simply as theory, then we run the risk of simply going through the motions. Jesus, in the Gospel today, highlights this danger, by introducing us to the picture of the scribe whose attention is very much caught up in appearances. "Prayer can never be reduced to the spontaneous outpouring of an interior impulse." For this reason, the Lord gives us the example of the widow, who makes a personal sacrifice, born from an inner disposition of faith and devotion. Where did she learn to pray like this, to pray from the heart?

First and foremost, prayer is learnt at home - within the four comers of your house.
In the same way that we do not wait until we go to school to start learning how to speak, our first words to God should also be formed at home, within the family. A Christian parent's responsibility is to teach their children about prayer and also to lead by example to persevere in prayer. Never be afraid or embarrassed to gather the family together to pray, not just at the table during meal time, but in the morning and evening times, preparing for the day ahead and giving thanks for the day ended. (see Sunday Missal). Look around your house. Are there any visual reminders in your home, a cross on the wall, a sacred image or holy picture that you can gather around or stand before? Never let your personal space become sterilized from expressions of your faith. Each on of our homes must also be, in away, a church - a place of prayer which prepares us for the greater Church, where the parish community gathers to pray on Sunday. Our prayer here has greater credibility if during the week, we have persevered in prayer at home.

Today's Gospel's take us right into the Jewish centerpiece of prayer, the Temple of Jerusalem, where prayer was expressed, both publicly and quietly, aloud and in silent. Vocal prayer, that is, praying out loud, corresponds to the usually way we communicate. In vocal prayer, our soul, resonates through our bodies and finds expression in spoken words, responses and even sung. When we prayer aloud together, we express our unity as a Church.

Prayer is also expressed through meditation. Sometimes that word meditation can conger up images of trying to lift ourselves away from all the things of the world, almost like trying to escape our familiar surroundings. Not necessarily so. Because we are body and soul, Christian meditation engages the mind, our emotions, our imagination and creativity of thought, which focuses, for example, on a particular reading from Scripture, particularly an incident relating to the life of Christ. Holy Images, the Rosary, reflecting on the beauty of creation or even reviewing our own life can take on the attributes of meditation.

Prayer can also simply seek to be united with God, without words - a simple gaze of love upon the face of God. This is what we call contemplation. Almost like quietly marveling at something so beautiful that, words would be inadequate, the mind would only get in the way, the prayer of contemplation is a gift form God.

As we were reminded last week, prayer does not come naturally, nor is it easy. It is a battle. We battle with ourselves and also with the world around us that wants us to look elsewhere for satisfaction. We also have to battle against false notions of prayer. And that is what Christ himself teaches us in the Gospel this Sunday. Real prayer is not empty worlds, meaningless rituals or wasting of time simply because it seems, to our common sense, that we are not "getting' anything out of it.

But by the same token, we battle even with prayer. We fight distractions, laziness, lack of faith, periods of dryness and disappointment that we are not being heard. For this reason the Gospel always invites us to examine if our prayer, which we express through our mind and body, is also in conformity with our soul, the inner temple within where God's Holy Spirit dwells.

The woman in the Gospel walked into the Temple to prayer. Christ heard her prayer, for it came from her inner temple. As we build the outer frame of our sacred place of prayer, let us hope that its strength and its beauty will be a true expression of what is within our hearts and souls, so that we will be authentic in prayer from the inside to the outside.


Twenty third Sunday after Pentecost (1962 Calendar)

Matt ix 18-26 (c.f Mark 5:21-43

It is good to compare Mark’s Gospel account of this incident with Matthew’s version and draw some conclusions (Mark 5:21-43). In this incident we have in a way, a playing field, where Christ must destroy two ancient curses, sickness and death, as well as bring together two ancient enemies the rich and the poor. Christ will also have to begin the healing of the relationship between Adam and Eve, who since the fall have been blaming each other. A father, and by St. Mark’s account, a man of considerable influence in his community who faces the death of his daughter and a mother, who we are told by is practically penniless and has been cut off from her family because her sickness, demonstrate this. In both these scenarios the gift of faith is aroused from within them and both the man and the woman have now the opportunity to make a move in the direction of God as the source of all healing of body and soul.

Los Milagros demuestan el poder de Cristo para deshacer y demostrar el daNa iniciado por Satanas en el pariso. El poder de Cristo su poder salvifico demostrado en estos dos Milagros mas aclaran lo que es desponible para nos en los sacramentos, espcialmente en la confesion y uncion de los enfermos.

Too often when we think that we have to run away to a quiet place to try to recapture the beauty of the creation we have lost, we should be careful to note that the healing brought to both the families mention in the Gospels, takes place in the midst of a crazy world. The woman is caught up in the frenzy of a crowd of spectators who are all trying to get a glimpse of Jesus. The man whose daughter died brings the Lord into his house where there is a crowd screaming, shouting and wailing. The man and the woman in today's Gospel demonstrated faith in the midst of a storm of people, pushing and shoving them in so many different directions.

Like the man in the Gospel we bring to the Lord all that we value, acknowledging that what we love is so fragile and the more we try to hold on it, the more painful it is for us when forced to let go. And like the woman in the Gospel we also bring to the Lord our own weakness and fears, our hunger and thirst for true relationships with a loving family restored and true friends secured for life. Only by approaching the Lord in the midst of the storm with the risk of faith can we begin to bring back to its proper design, the world as God intended it and our lives, marked as they should be in all their beauty and majesty - made in God's image and likeness. This gospel passage has shown us that, “alongside the healing of wounds of body and mind, Jesus also forgives the sins which affect the spirt – he removes the weakness of the flesh and thus is able to heal the whole person [body and soul]” (c.f. St. Ambrose Expos. Gospel of Luke 5.12-13)

On this, the Lord's Day, we bring to him the bread and wine of the old creation, which left simply to the elements of this broken world will corrupt and decay - much like us. But through the power of the Holy Spirit the bread and wine become transformed, using the language of the Gospel today, dare I say healed, given new life to become for us the Risen Lord himself, the new Adam of paradise restored. May our participation in this holy sacrament allow us to recognize our own sickness of mind, body and soul. May we never be embarrassed by the gift of faith, which allows us to always humbly approach the Lord without fear and never with despair.

In the mass we bring the bread and wine to the altar. It represents the old creation. Left alone, like us, is will grow older and it will decay. However, with the power of the Holy Spirit, the bread and wine will become transformed, it will be healed, it will be changed into new life. It will be changed into Jesus Christ. At his touch, we should allow him to heal and transform us.

All Soul’s Day - For the Souls in Purgatory

On this day and during this month when we remember the souls of the faithful departed, our thoughts naturally resist thinking of death, our lives are often stubbornly focused on living and our goals are often set on working towards accomplishments.

It seems to me, that the more we loose focus on our eternal destination, the more we will mistake this world as all that there is or can be. Without reference to the afterlife, life ultimately ends in failure and death is a simple return to nothing. Loved ones exist only in our dreams and memories and nowhere else. Pictures will ultimately fade, statutes of past heroes will someday crumble and when this world is no more, consumed in the fireball of an exploding sun, then what of all the millions and millions of people who walked the earth, whose history now becomes evaporated into cosmic dust?

From a Christian perspective, death is a consequence of sin. Though our physical nature is mortal, death was not part of God’s design for us. Even though we may at times look upon death as the last enemy to fight against, because of his love for us the Son of God, Jesus Christ suffered death in the most horrible way in order that it may not be given the last word. God experienced death and defeated it. The physical resurrection of Christ from the grave is now for us the prototype of eternal life.

Every Sunday we profess our belief in the resurrection of the dead – that even though we will die and our bodies will break down in to the elements of this earth, a day will come when God will build us all up again along with our departed family and friends, into new creations so that we can, all together stand ready to enter into the everlasting pattern that our lives on earth pointed to.

Our faith tells us, that not everyone will enter into heaven. “We can not be united with God unless we freely choose to love him. But we cannot love God if we sin gravely against him, against our neighbor or against ourselves.” To die in mortal sin (with the attitude of active or passive rebellion against God) without repenting and accepting God’s mercy means remaining separated from him for ever by our own free choice. This state of ultimate self-exclusion from union with God is called “Hell”. (cf. CCC. 1033) . Because God does not predestine anyone for hell, but calls us to freely enter heaven, our lives on earth must be marked by a responsibility for our own salvation and an acknowledgement that we all have an influence on the salvation of others. The choices we make as citizens for our society will also be taken into account when we face our maker.

When we pray for the dead, for the holy souls, we acknowledge that our love is never wasted - that there is an economy of salvation which we prudently invest in with the hope of the eternal treasure of heaven. We know that we have at times made bad moral choices, mistakes and gambled foolishly, risking our own eternal happiness. But because we are not only responsible for our own salvation, but also the salvation of others, by what we do and what we fail to, we pray also for our dead, hoping also that when we die and are before God's judgment seat, that the Church will also pray for us. We do not ignore the reality of death nor our responsibility to help make this world a place where human life is protected and cherished from the moment of conception until natural death.

Of course those in hell are by their own choice beyond any effort we can make in prayer that they might turn to God and be saved. They have sealed their own eternal separation from all love. Our prayer for those in heaven is superfluous as they are enjoying the full reward of their faith, hope and love. Who do we pray for and why?

God does not force anyone of us into his presence until we know ourselves ready to look at him face to face. If the dead are judged worthy for heaven and the saints point them in the direction of God, almost like wiping of the dirt from their shoes, before entering God’s presence, we must be cleansed, purified from every stain of sin. Even the memory of sin in our minds must be purged and our focus must be completely and freely directed towards the face of God. This purging, we call “purgatory”. It is the final pilgrimage of the soul to heaven, cleansed and purged of imperfections or lingering shadows in the gentle dawn of heavens light.

Purification in preparation for heaven can be as painful as it is beautiful, like the blows of a sculptor’s chisel against the hard rough surfaced rock as the beauty is slowly reveled and defined. And we can take some of the blows for them as often we must do so even our own lives now in preparation for heaven. In the economy of salvation, we can focus our own extra efforts to pray and make extra sacrifices for the holy souls instead of ourselves, to ease their pathway for heaven, provide encouragement for them as they journey towards God. Our prayers and our efforts go with them in the hope that when they eventually look upon the face of God it is our hope they will also speak well of us before God’s throne and make our own pathway to heaven a little easier.

For this is what our lives are all about, getting to heaven – to look upon the face of God in Jesus Christ our Savior whose love compels us to be with him. Let us pray for our beloved dead that they will see God and rejoice in his presence forever. Let us pray for ourselves that as we approach the hidden Lord through the veil of the Sacrament of the Mass, that one day we will see him face to face and with all our loved ones, whom we pray for in particular during this month of November because our love can reach the shores of heaven.

All Hallows Eve and All Saints Day

Today’s solemn feast day of All Hallows or All Saints is celebrated every year with serious attention so that we do not forget what our life as Christians is about. It is all about salvation. We exist for one reason – to be ultimately joined to God in heaven. Without the goal of getting to heaven, life is devoid of its true meaning and our humanity is easily stripped of its beauty and nobility, especially when we presume that, finding ourselves in a passing world, we think that this is it.

The Good News is that the Christian believes in heaven and that to attain heaven we are called to be saints, we are called to be holy. Holiness makes us allows us, not only to approach God and see him face to face when we die and are no longer attached to his world - holiness also allows us to notice how the things of heaven are also every much alive and active in the world, but especially in the Church.

The Church, every much like the Blessed Sacrament, what we see is not what we get. When we look at the Church, from a simple perspective we might see a building, a congregation, an organization of various individuals such as priests and nuns, schools and charities, men and women involved in different ministries and duties. Yet, from God’s perspective, the Church is seen as the mystical Bride of Christ. Our Lord sacrificed himself for on the cross for the Church his Bride, and by doing so, with his blood, he has made the Church forever holy.

Once again, we are not talking about holy walls and holy pictures. We are talking about holy men, holy woman and holy children. Within the Holy Church, each one of us can become holy. We should never shy away from what God calls us to become, for it is His will that we should reflect his light in our own lives, according to own particular way of life as a man, woman, married, celibate or single each one of us encouraging each other to be more God-like in our lives and actions. It is for this reason that the Church will point out for us particular individuals who can serve as role models for us. They, of course are the saints who have reached heaven.

While they lived among us on earth their friendship with God was tested and challenged – many suffered because of their friendship with Christ and their loyalty to His Holy Church and the prize of their endurance is the intimate union with God in heaven, which we too long for. They are our heavenly brothers and sisters, our extended family in heaven. When we look upon a picture of them and ask them to pray for us, we long to see what is reflected perfectly in their eyes, the very face of God – Christ our Lord. And so our prayer to the saints, because they bask in His light, is ultimately our prayer to God. We know how far we often fall from that glory and we need God’s grace to raise ourselves up so that our faith will always be stronger than our fears.

Does holiness come naturally, is it a given that we will all look upon the face of God one day and share in the vision of the saints of heaven? No! But within the family of the Holy Church we have been given the tools to become more and more Christ-like. Our instinct for prayer takes on substance when we humbly acknowledge that we need Christ to teach us how to lift our hearts and minds up to heaven (CCC 2559-61). God always hears our prayer and always responds for our good (CCC 2616). Because our lives often reflect different circumstances and temperaments, the Saints of heaven provide us various methods of prayer.

Church communities are often have saints as their patrons. Our own and neighboring parishes are named after Christian role models. St. Margaret meditated on portions of the Gospel, reading the same passages again and again allowing the Holy Spirit to draw her into its deepest meaning which she translated into acts of charity and care giving. St. Francis of Assisi often prayed before an image of the suffering Jesus which opened up for him the intimacy of God who he now could touch in the poor and suffering. The prayer life of Saint Thomas Moore, a lawyer during the time of Henry VIII, drew him more and more to recognize and love the beauty of the Church as Christ’s one and unique Bride. St. Louis, King of France, known locally as San Luis Rey, found himself in the midst of wars and battles. His prayer life inspired him to imitate Christ who carried the burdens and concerns of his people on his shoulders. And of course the greatest saint we look to, to inspire us to be holy is Mary (CCC 2679). When we want to be united with her in prayer, we want to allow ourselves, like her, to adhere to God’s plan of salvation for the whole world. The holiness of the Church is a reflection of Mary’s holiness – united with her in prayer as were the apostles on the day of Pentecost were are given the hope that one day, we to will see our God face to face.

30th Sunday

During his earthy ministry, Our Blessed Lord had reached out and healed many through his miracles. Not many of those who were healed are named. In today’s Gospel we are not only told of the name of the blind man who received his sight from Jesus, we are also told of who his father was. This provides us with a clue that, in the words of St. Augustine, “Bartimaeus, the son Timaeus, had fallen from some position of great prosperity, and was regarded as an object of the most notorious and the most remarkable wretchedness, because, in addition to being blind, he had also to sit begging” (Harmony of the Gospels 2.62)

But regardless of the social background, Bartimaeus provides us with an example of how to respond to God during particular incidents, special moments or unpredictable events. Often sickness, a heart ache, a set back or misfortune provide us with a unique opportunity to speak to God in a certain way that we might not be at times accustomed to.

Rather than complaining, for looking for pity or getting angry at God for what happened him, first Bartimaeus was humble before God, calling out “Lord have mercy”. And even though he did not receive an immediate response from God, and added to this a certain group in the crowd kept telling him to be quiet, Bartimaeus persisted – he never gave up hope that God would answer his cry for help.

How often might we call out only once and them presuming there is no reply from God, we allow certain groups in the crowd, in the world to provide the answer! Fortunately, Bartimaeus instinctively knew that the world could not answer his deepest questions nor heal him. Silence from God does not mean he does not hear you. Often, God will answer our prayers by telling us to speak louder, to ignore those who try to tame us or silence us. In our prayers, we need also to hear ourselves. This is important. Bartimaeus knew exactly what he wanted to ask Jesus. He was focused; he knew what he was lacking and what he truly needed. In fact, God began answering his prayer even before he called out. How?

Probably without realizing it, even though he was blind and was obviously in the darkness about who Jesus really was, Bartimaeus was inspired to reflect on his situation, was stirred to his feet and motivated to call out by God himself. Authentic prayer does not come from our own efforts; it is first and foremost a gift from God, even though God may at first remain hidden. He stirs us to reach out towards him, transcending all the forces of this world that would keep us grounded even though we may find ourselves in darkness or in the midst of incomprehensible suffering (cf. CCC 2027).

Jesus may have been renowned, during his lifetime as miracle worker – healing the broken bodies of those disabled, giving sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf and restoring speech to those unable to talk but, at what cost? To repair our bodies, his own will have to be crushed, to bring light into the world, the light must be taken from his eyes, so that we might hear and have a true voice, Our Lord must enter into deathly silence. Upon the cross, our Blessed Lord pays the ransom, endures the suffering and willingly gives us his life so that whatever hardship we are to endure, it will have meaning and value and if we allow our prayer to reach the heavens then from the cross we will be assured of victory over the greatest enemy, death – all other enemies pale in comparison.

Our Blessed Mother Mary was not spared darkness and loss in her life. She stood at the cross and shared in the anguish of her Son. As we stand around this sacred altar and with her enter into the sacrifice of Calvary, may she help us to pray authentically with faith and hope, so that, even though at times we may walk in the valley of darkness, to evil will we fear!

1962 Calendar: Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ the King

Jn XVIII 33-37

Pilate and Jesus represent two opposite ideas of leadership. Pilate can conceive of no other way of governing or leading than that of being able to accumulate as much political control as possible. He had good role models- the Roman Emperor Tiberius on one side, and King Herod the Great on the other. Pilate thinks of a state founded on power and maintained by force. The kingdom Jesus has in mind is not imposed by any military power or by the threat of force. If it was, clearly, "angels would have fought to prevent [him] being surrendered to...” And this is what baffles Pontius Pilate. He can not conceive of a king who has been sentenced to death by his own people and who puts up no resistance.

When a king or leader to becomes a dictator, a tyrant, when he exploits those entrusted to his care and abuses the goodwill of the people out of a compulsive need to be in power, then it is right and necessary for the people to say "no". U. S. history serves us as an example. But if a king or leader is just, good, committed to the well-being of his subjects, truly compassionate - has the ability to truly suffer with those who suffer, then the people will pledge their allegiance as a sign of their trust. This is why the model Christ takes, is that of a Shepherd – a Good Shepherd. Unfortunately, there have been too many examples throughout history of bad kings, ruthless leaders, corrupt politicians and opportunists, to the point that it is now understandable that the credibility of leadership has been severely damaged.

But even though we do not shy away from calling Jesus Christ King, we do not see in his title the cobwebs of some archaic form of monarchy- instead, we see the perfect example of authentic leadership, a shepherd who is willing to literary put his life on the line for the flock entrusted to his care. Therefore, as Christians we can and ought to look to those who lead us or wish to shepherd us and ask for our trust, that they demonstrate in their own lives a personal commitment to do whatever it takes to protect the most vulnerability members of our society, beginning with the tiny unborn child of the frightened mother and those who are sick, hospitalized or homebound – often forgotten by the world. Those who take it upon themselves to serve us in leadership, if they themselves declare any allegiance to Christ the Good Shepherd, should likewise be willing to sacrifice a king’s random for the most vulnerable.

For this reason, we can never remain silent when the right to life of every human being is violated or threatened. Because Christ dared to speak out for those who had no voice, he paid a price - one we should never be afraid of that cost.

At the beginning of Christianity, the Roman emperors trembled when they witnessed the rapid growth and spread of Christianity through their lands. Christians were persecuted, not because they would not fit in. They were persecuted because they dared to say "no" to a political power which was so used to getting everything its own way.

This is our contribution to the Kingdom of God – to remind those in power and with authority, that they have a God-given responsibility and unique opportunity to safe-guard and protect the dignity of each and every one of us, our families, our children and especially the unborn child, those with special needs, the sick and infirm who serve us well in reminding us how precious and fragile human life is, and how Christ our King and Good Shepherd demonstrates that every human life is worth fighting for and ultimately, worth dying for.

CCC 544 El Reino pertenece a los pobres y a los pequeños, es decir a los que lo acogen con un corazón humilde. Jesús fue enviado para "anunciar la Buena Nueva a los pobres" (Lc 4, 18; cf. 7, 22). Los declara bienaventurados porque de "ellos es el Reino de los cielos" (Mt 5, 3); a los "pequeños" es a quienes el Padre se ha dignado revelar las cosas que ha ocultado a los sabios y prudentes (cf. Mt 11, 25). Jesús, desde el pesebre hasta la cruz comparte la vida de los pobres; conoce el hambre (cf. Mc 2, 23-26; Mt 21,18), la sed (cf. Jn 4,6-7; 19,28) y la privación (cf. Lc 9, 58). Aún más: se identifica con los pobres de todas clases y hace del amor activo hacia ellos la condición para entrar en su Reino (cf. Mt 25, 31-46).