I love the Saints. I love that the Church gives them to us, raises them up so that we can see what holiness looks like lived out in this life. I love that they point to something better, brighter. What we see in shadows, little hints in the sacrament of the everyday, the heavenly saints behold in full glory. Here in the shadowlands we strain for a pale shimmer of heavenly sunrise, while they stand in full sun.
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As a Lieutenant in the U. S. Navy Chaplain Corps, Father Vincent Capodanno finally reached a much-anticipated goal, arriving in Vietnam during Holy Week, 1966. While he couldn’t know it at the time, stepping onto Vietnamese soil initiated his journey to his own personal passion, his own way of the cross, at the same time that the Passion of Jesus was being commemorated.
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As a devout Jew and a man of deep faith, Joseph of Nazareth would have been highly familiar with the Scriptural promises of a Messiah. While he surely prayed for His coming, the humble carpenter never could have foreseen the crucial role he himself would play in the daily life of this Messiah for whom he longed.
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Then I said, ‘Woe is me, I am doomed! For I am a man of unclean lips, living among a people of unclean lips’…Then one of the seraphim flew to me, holding an ember which he had taken with tongs from the altar. He touched my mouth with it. ‘See,’ he said, ‘now that this has touched your lips, your wickedness is removed, your sin purged.’” (Isaiah 6:5 – 7)
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When it comes to following God’s will, the most challenging task can be figuring out just what His will is. Of course, prayer is a vitally important tool in this discernment process. Best case scenario: we ask God to disclose His plan for us, and circumstances fall into place, quickly and effortlessly, to lead us in the right direction.
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Liturgically, we’re taking a brief breath in ordinary time. We’ve lived the long wait of Advent, and Christmas has been celebrated and it’s trappings stored away – nativity sets snuggled in attic alcoves and ornaments stacked in garage bins.
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I ran into a friend recently, another mom with lots of littles, at an indoor trampoline park. It was a sizzling summer day in Phoenix and we’d both reluctantly shelled out too much money for a few hours of much-needed activity for the kids.
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It is a new calendar year, with new resolutions and new ambitious goals. We crack open delightfully empty new planners, begin hopeful new journals, form resolute new budgets, buy new gym memberships, and have jogging shorts with the tags still on.
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Now that we’ve got Thanksgiving under our (slightly loosened) belts, it’s time to turn our attention to something – new. While to our worldly senses, the year is winding down with a celebratory month of shopping, singing, decorating, and baking, our liturgical year has really – very quietly – just begun.
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Young Elizabeth
Next month the Catholic galaxy will become a little brighter as the Church receives a new cluster of saints. Among the holy handful will be just one woman, a French Carmelite considered by Pope Saint John Paul II to be one the most influential mystics of his life.
Blessed Elizabeth of the Trinity was born as Elizabeth Catez, “Sabeth” to her friends, in 1880. She was a hot-tempered child with sometimes “furious eyes” whose father died while she was young, forcing her mother to move Sabeth and her younger sister from their home in Dijon to a smaller second-story flat. From her window, little Sabeth could look down into the garden of the Carmelite convent.
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