Thomas Caffrey

 

Good Friday, 2021

In mid-February I attended a retreat at Discovery House, an oasis of spiritual healing nestled at the intersection of Wharton State Forest and the blueberry farms that, long ago, helped earn New Jersey its “Garden State” nickname. The group of faithful Catholic men, in whom I humbly claim membership, is known as”Sons of the Father” (SOTF). We deepen the spiritual roots of our faith in this training ground in the hope that we can be as fruitful as those blueberry bushes by living the Gospel message of Beatitude and the consequent Spiritual and Corporal Works of Mercy.

SOTF has the good fortune and great blessing of receiving spiritual direction by the Founder of Discovery House, Monsignor Mike Mannion, a man whose holiness and understanding of mercy were formed by his lengthy work with Mother Teresa, a humble woman. We are sponsored by The King’s Men, an apostolate founded by Mark Houck, himself a member and leader of SOTF, and its mission statement reads:

“Under Christ the King’s universal call to serve, we as men, pledge to unite and build up other men in the mold of leader, protector, and provider through education, formation, healing, and action.”

During the February retreat, “Fr Mike” opened with a meditation and reflection on the Holy Eucharist, titled “Chosen, Blessed, Broken, Given,” to help each man have a deeper and more intimate understanding of the sacrifice made by our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. I wish we had recorded it, because I never had such a clearer experience of the Blessed Sacrament. But I do remember the essence of it, because after he finished and we had a moment of silence, he asked me to share my understanding and embodiment of those words from my experiences. This was going to be difficult…

Since February of 2018 I have been dealing with the fallout of a massive betrayal by a close friend. This is the second such experience for me. The first helped motivate to write the first of what I hope will be many books: A Boy for All Seasons, but a Man…? . In it I describe a process of boys becoming virtuous men according to the Christian and Classical traditions and in the context of a hostile culture and suffering. I began to share my reflection of Chosen, Blessed, Broken, Given.

 

I have seen and I testify that this is God’s Chosen One.” 

John the Baptist (Jn 1:33)

Was I chosen? Did God choose me for these great difficulties? I don’t know. God didn’t choose to cause the suffering inflicted upon Job, but He did allow Satan to test his faithful servant (I’m not as blameless and upright as God’s servant, Job). That’s a heavy load for a believer, let alone one who doesn’t believe. I’m sure that load has proven too heavy for many to continue believing. But then that begs the question that I would ask of them: “What does Good Friday mean to you?” I don’t ask that casually or simplistically. Nothing transforms a person as much as suffering, or the realization (after honest introspection) that he or she has caused his or her suffering or caused it in others by sinful actions. Depending upon one’s formation, these difficult experiences can either deepen faith or break it.

However, I believe I was chosen by God long ago, so He could offer me the gift of faith (along with love, mercy and trust), and then the family and societal culture to help grow that faith. Eventually in my adulthood I could freely accept that gift because I better understood it, or rather, better understood Him because our faith is in a Person– Jesus the Christ–who said “Behold, I make all things new.” (Rv 21:5) I am in good company, since Jesus was Himself put to the test by the “prince of darkness” (Milton) and the “father of all lies” (Jn 8:44) by Judas’ betrayal.  I believe He is making me new through this suffering.

Blessed

The next part, Blessed, also challenged me, but perhaps not so much. I believe God has blessed me by choosing me, because I eventually learned from Father Jim Hutchins (see below) to believe that my necessary purification through these great challenges will lead to my sanctification and the sanctification of others. He taught what our faith has long taught: “Don’t waste your suffering! Use it by offering it to others in an effort to sanctify them!” I also believe that how I go through the good and the bad of life teaches and, more importantly, encourages others. In this I am mainly thinking of my children, Kevin and Maureen. They, too, have suffered; and since they most likely have many years ahead of them, they will again experience some suffering.

 

Broken

It was when I got to the Broken part that I stumbled and fell from the weight of this particular cross. I had great difficulty trying to describe to my retreat brothers the betrayal and its effects. “Have you forsaken me, God?” That statement represents the greatest example of the desolation one can feel from the seeming absence of God. Therefore from this experience and his betrayal by Judas, I know that Jesus and I can identify with each other. That’s a powerful realization, especially when I know that I’ve also betrayed Jesus by my sin. I don’t say this to suggest that I go around down in the mouth and always look at life through dark glasses. Those experiences motivate me toward charity, stemming from my humility in thinking of the “other” before thinking of myself. I know He knows how “forsaken” feels, from both his sleeping disciples and his “missing” Father. I told my retreat brothers that transformation was all well and good, but that I had had enough of it. I know it’s a good thing; but as the saying goes, “too much of a good thing…” I was tired of being a Transformer! I needed the Consolation that only the Chosen One can provide.

 

Given

The “Given” part did not come from me, but from the Holy Spirit through my retreat brothers. At the end of my reflection, my dear friend and radio/podcast co-host Dan Duddy was the first brother to give a part of himself in his own reflection upon mine, expressing a better understanding of the Holy Eucharist each time the priest chooses, blesses, breaks and then gives the “Bread of Life” during Mass. That’s a great insight. Further inspiring comments came from George, Shaun, Donald, Fred, Kirby, Mark and Ben, beloved friends all.

 

Returning to Samson…

On Palm Sunday, I completed the “Samson Healing Retreat” run by The King’s Men with retreat Master Mark Houck. Those four days amplified the February retreat described above by a factor of 10. My summary letter below, which I sent to my retreat brothers, gives just a peek into this truly transforming experience. To the men reading this post, I recommend it highly.

 

Brothers,

As you might remember me saying on our opening night introduction, I walked into the retreat with a fair amount of uncertainty and hesitation, and not exactly sure why Mark invited me (urged me!). As you might also remember, I wondered what healing I could possibly receive while still in the process of receiving wounds, especially in a group full of strangers. By Sunday afternoon, I knew why Mark had invited me and wondered no more about what healing I could receive.

I’m not sure I have the words to express the joy, inspiration, courage, holiness and, yes, healing, I received from you good and great men. Together we opened ourselves and, most especially, our hearts to each other, thereby allowing the Holy Spirit to work through us. The experience sometimes seemed to me as if each man began the retreat with a large onion in his hand, one representing his burdens, and as each of us peeled off layer after layer our eyes stung from the flow of cleansing tears–until the onion was gone. The Consolation had begun!

I have eternal gratitude for the following:

Mark’s belief in me and his trust in us. His leadership and guidance throughout helped us emerge as a team, with each player wanting to play his own part and help his brother do likewise. No egos! The thought he gave to the forest Stations of the Cross, the Name, Claim and Tame witness and Saturday’s Adoration during which Fr Jim placed the Monstrance–Jesus–right in our faces, all stand out for me. You gave me enough time in my face-to-face with our Dear Lord so that He could strip away any remaining guardedness and helped me face the fears of my situation—and give them all to Him. I can never thank you enough, but I’ll keep on trying.

Dan’s “silver lining” role and his witness. He is a man of the turf, in which lies the blood, sweat and tears of many boys and young men he has mentored (including my son, as my marriage was ending). He has borne many of their burdens, and he helps me carry mine. His name implies that he knows what it feels like to struggle, and the strength of his painful witness helped us to carry on. His bold public confession about his player Lewis, his deceased son Francis and himself spoke beyond his words. I learned new things about him, and had plenty of time to meditate on those things as I lay awake long into the night listening to him snore…

Tim’s desire to help those unfairly oppressed by life’s bullies greatly inspired me; but I had no expectation that I would eventually be on the receiving end of his encouragement, in response to my witness talk on Saturday night. I will never forget it, nor his loving hug right afterward. He personifies Semper Fi

As I continue to experience Kirby’s caring, loving and intelligent witness I come away inspired and encouraged. He listens, and cares, and then afterwards offers wise counsel. But most memorable of all was his completely unexpected offer to help me re-roof my house! That just blew me away. I will never forget it.

I didn’t get a chance to talk with Mike at the October retreat. So, during our “Stations of the Cross” experience with him as my encouraging mentor, I began to realize that I had missed an opportunity to get to know him at that retreat. But that was all made right at the conclusion of Sunday breakfast, when he sat down opposite me to share his powerfully moving story. To say that his sharing (from caring!) impacted and encouraged me would be an understatement. Like Tim, he, too, did that after the Saturday night “N, C & T” talks. I will never forget it.

As I was on my way to the shower, I told Dan I had forgotten my shampoo. Knowing Dan’s beautiful head, I hadn’t expected him to have any. But then Charles emerged from his room after having overheard our conversation and held out a bottle of his own—which he did again the following night. And as we were saying our good-byes in the parking lot Sunday afternoon, Charles did a kindness to me that related to my book, one that took me by surprise and made clear his generosity. Small gestures, perhaps; but these, along with his sharing the Simon of Cyrene burdens with Bob, were acts of charity (love) that I won’t forget.

Newmie! My Simon of Cyrene, one whose generosity helps me carry my cross. No one’s generosity is unlimited, but I have yet to experience the limits of his. He, too, is unforgettable.

Steve, the cross that you built helped to represent and demonstrate for us your very difficult experience: the stripping away from you much of your “garments”. Whatever those people did, they couldn’t take away your status as a child of God made in His image and likeness. Your courageous perseverance helps me to persevere; and I won’t forget it.

Bob, during our conversations on Thursday your head and torso were a bit low, an understandable posture considering the weight on your shoulders that you carried to Discovery House. But as the retreat unfolded, I saw you gradually stand taller; and then during our good-bye conversation on Sunday, I realized you and I were seeing eye-to-eye. I won’t forget it. Well done!

Alex, I heard the weight fall off your shoulders during our kneeling adoration, when you came face-to-face with our Lord and released at least some of it to Him. I admired you for your courage at having done that, in front of other men. I thank you for your kind words at our departure on Sunday and won’t forget them.

Joe, such maturity at such a young age! A powerful Station of the Cross, showing the frenzy of sin at the top. Thank you for your faithful witness, and for the kind words at our departure.

Vincent (“Michaelangelo”), an artist whose Stations of the Cross representation helped me have a deeper understanding of the Gospels than I’d had up to that point. The passion in your voice as you spoke of it helped me imagine more than what I saw at first glance.

Chris, I have fond memories of you because of your words to me at the final Host/Cross presentation touched me deeply, because of their content and because I know that you meant them particularly for me. You want me–all of us–to heal.

Pat and Matt, while we didn’t talk much, I appreciated your quiet background leadership in helping to make the retreatants’ experience a wonderful and memorable. Pat, thanks for the promise prayers. Matt, thanks for the simple but memorable encouraging pat on my back after I had concluded my “N, C & T” talk.

Father Jim, truly a “father” to us. Provider of the life-saving sacraments and encouraging pastoral care, both of which protect us from doubt and despair. Your love helped guide each man toward greater self-knowledge during the Adoration liturgy, a greater trust in his Samson brothers and a deeper belief in our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ—through good or bad. Thank you for helping us experience our suffering as purification and sanctification, and for helping us understand how to move forward with eyes on the Cross.

I have the agape love for each of you.

Thanks,

Tom

PS: Listen to “Samson Retreat” on WQPHradio.org

 

 

 

 

Author: A Boy for All Seasons, but a Man…?

Available on Amazon

 

Listen to “13th Apostle” on WQPH radio Boston

Streaming live Saturdays @ 11:30 A.M.

https://wqphradio.org/shows/13th-apostle/

 

 

The Nuns of Compiegne

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”

(Dickens, Charles, A Tale of Two Cities bk. 1, ch. 1 (1859))

In the year 1789 a violent mob of outraged Parisians stormed and captured the royal prison known as the Bastille, and thus began the French Revolution. The Revolution’s goals? Overthrow the government of monarchy and its corrupt church, and replace it with a system based upon the ideals of Liberty, Equality and Fraternity–but obviously only on their terms. The sudden removal from power of the king, nobles and clergy caused a power vacuum, and chaos ensued for a few years. In an effort to restore order, the radicals installed Maximilien Robespierre as head of the woefully misnamed “Committee on Safety,” whose notorious actions would soon usher in the “Reign of Terror.” Shockingly, Robespierre understood all this as a sign of virtue! This “Reign” occurred, ironically, during a period known as the “Enlightenment”. From 1793 to 1794, massive slaughter defined the Terror, with reports of a death toll in the tens of thousand that filled millions with fear and grief. One can certainly understand those emotions when, after all, those who died had fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, friends, etc, etc. You get it…

The violent mob manifested great immorality and ignorance during this period. The massive scale of the desecration, death and destruction begs the question: How could so-called “enlightened” people commit such evil, in a Catholic nation no less, one known as the “eldest daughter of the Church” with records of Christianity dating to the year 177? It boggles the mind…

Many of those deaths were clergy and religious, as they were among the main targets of the violence, because of corruption within the French Church. Too many of them chose a path other than the one taught in the Gospels, and therefore departed from The Way (the original name for Christianity). They spent too much time with the aristocracy, nobility and the royalty, and too little time with the hungry, thirsty, naked, homeless, sick and imprisoned (Jesus and the Gospel evangelists made that latter group famous, and inspired the Church to develop the “Corporal Works of Mercy“.) Pope Francis talks frequently about going out to the “peripheries”, to “meet the people where they are.” (but like any good lifeguard, we don’t stay out in those peripheries–especially if that is an area of sin–but we lovingly work to bring the outcasts into the fold of the Christian community.)

***

The revolutionaries sought to de-Christianize France through their religious persecution, and they succeeded. Thousands of Christians were killed by the guillotine, as well as by starvation, drownings, and sheer brutality. It doesn’t take much imagination to think of the horrific images of such violence, with piles of heads separated from their decapitated bodies scattered throughout the streets of Paris. I shudder to think of people–especially children–finding the heads of their loved ones in these piles. Christian Europe has a bloody history, as it has slaughtered many of its own throughout the centuries. They, too, discarded the Gospels. If the revolutionary marauders knew any of this past, perhaps they used that knowledge to rationalize their actions against religion.

The new regime outlawed religious life and any aspect of it. Be gone, superstitious religion! We have replaced you and your mysteries with the certainty of science based upon reason! But these changes ultimately brought materialism and thus you have the resulting blasphemy of converting the Cathedral de Notre Dame de Paris into the Temple of Reason and its cultish ceremonies. 

Among the persecuted Catholics was a small group of Carmelite nuns, aka “Daughters of the Blessed Virgin Mary”.  The Carmelites take vows of withdrawal from the world in devotional prayer for the sake of the world. As with all avowed Carmelites, this group in Compiegne never expected to see the outside world again. But their vow was their crime, and it put them in the cross hairs of the revolutionary government. Their religious commitment made them enemies of the state.

The nuns were ordered to swear a civic oath, and to renounce their faith and religious life—which they refused. Over a two-year period the state closed all monasteries and convents, forbade religious clothing and forced the evicted religious into the streets or–for the lucky ones of Compeigne–temporarily into the homes of loved ones. But they had to live in hiding for more than a year, and did so as a small community of other believers—in their commitment to Christ and to each other!

It should come as no surprise that during this tumultuous time, the sisters struggled in various ways to this new reality, responding with anxiety, fear and depression. They simply wanted to live a life of humble prayer, but events soon forced them to face the dreaded reality that that life was soon not to be.

Over time and through deep prayer, the record of several nuns show how the group passed through various stages of mystical transformation of ever-deepening faith, to arrive at a peace that St Paul describes as “beyond all understanding, guarding your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” (Phil 4:7) I, too, have prayed for the mystical transformation and its resulting peace, changes that seem to occur mostly in the midst of suffering. Our faith has countless examples of the transformative power of trust in God while we face the forces of evil.

Eventually, the inevitable happened, and the state arrested, tried and convicted the nuns–and then sentenced them to death by guillotine. On the night of July 17, 1794, a horse drawn cart transported the nuns to the scaffold, and the crowd hurled insults, saliva and objects. Jesus had his way of the cross, while these women had their way of the scaffold. Both means of torture and death were constructed of wood and iron!

Along the way they spontaneously began singing the hymns of their faith, such as “Veni Creator Spiritus“. Gradually they gained some sympathy, and increasing numbers of brave onlookers joined them in their hymns.  As they arrived at the scaffold each exited the cart, and formed a line. The Mother prioress faced them, while holding a statue of the Blessed Mother that each sister would reverently kiss before climbing the stairs. The last to exit the cart was Sister Charlotte who, at 78, was the oldest sister. She was a partial invalid, but that didn’t stop the guard from grabbing her from the cart and throwing her to the path. I’ve known many 78 year-olds, and wonder how depraved a man has to be in order to act with such malevolence and how course a crowd must have grown to abide–let alone applaud–this action.

She arose with the help of onlookers, her face smeared with blood, and thanked the guard for not killing her so she could have the blessing of the same death as her sisters!

The first in line was Sister Constance, the youngest member and one who had not yet taken her final vows. In an amazing demonstration of self-control, knowing that her death was imminent, she began the group’s final hymn, “Laudate Dominum” or “Praise the Lord” (Psalm 117 the shortest Psalm and shortest chapter in the Bible). This hymn was composed by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, who died during the early stages of the revolution). Just before her hymn was cut short, she forgave her executioner, as did each of the sisters who followed her. However, until the blade subsequently reached each of their necks, the sisters carried on singing until the only remaining voices were onlookers, who could say, “it is finished.”

The murders of such sweet souls caused an outcry, and 10 days later Robespierre himself was executed.

Although Catholicism has yet to regain a strong presence in France, if it ever will, the faithful devotion of these religious sisters carries on today in those who, despite facing evil, claim Christ as their savior.

Christus Vincit!

Please mark your calendars on every July 17, to celebrate the feast day of these heroic women.

***

We’ve all experienced suffering to some degree. For those of us who suffer right now, how do we trust that we will persevere? Can we have that transformative experience of those devoted nuns of Compiegne? I believe we can, by relying on the community of faithful brothers and sisters in Christ, through spiritual direction, deep prayer, reading and the trust we have in God’s faithfulness to us. But, how can I manifest that trust? What happens if we suffer profound loss, and the comforts of an untrammeled life disappear because our life has in fact become trammeled? My spiritual director advised me that I was thinking about this from an incomplete perspective. Just as faith, mercy, forgiveness and love are gifts that come from God, so too does trust come from Him. So, we should ask God for the gift of trust, and then accept it from Him so that our trust in Him grows. That taught me a perspective I never knew, and one that has sustained me more times than I can count. I didn’t know how I could generate the trust I needed, in order to make my way through and beyond the great difficulties I have faced and will again face. But my emphasis was on the wrong person in that relationship. Instead, I learned to look at Them–the three Persons whose trust I could always have.

1. Can you give a witness to how suffering has deepened your faith and strengthened your discipleship with Christ?
2. Does new life emerge from the death of your attachments, death wrought by the fires of your suffering?
3. In the spirit of Beatitude, can we find the blessings from living as the meek, the poor in spirit and as those who hunger and thirst for righteousness?
4. Ultimately, can we follow Christ’s model of sacrificial love, a love so powerful that its only desire is to save another? In A Tale of Two Cities Charles Dickens poignantly illustrates this love, when Sydney Carton steps onto his guillotine platform in the place of Charles Darnay. Foreseeing his subsequent redemption and resurrection impels him to these famous words:

“It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.”

Laudate Dominum!

 

Amen

 

 

 

City of Man or City of God?

On August 24 in the year of our Lord 410, a cataclysmic event occurred that many thought could never happen: the sack of Rome!

(Britannica.org)

 

To try and put this historic happening into perspective, think of Pearl Harbor and 9/11 with the imagined “sack” of New York City and Washington, D.C.–combined–and you will have an idea of the massive scale of Rome falling.

(Thomas Cole 1833)

 

This was the capital of the greatest empire the world had ever known. Its citizens never imagined such a thing, because Rome was known as the “Eternal City”—it would last forever. Records indicate that those who experienced it or learned of it felt as though the world had ended. As a result, people were desperate for answers and for a culprit or, more accurately, a scapegoat.

What to believe in? After all, the great emperor Constantine had “legalized” Christianity after centuries of persecution. So, why had the Christian God allowed—or caused—this collapse?  Many still believe that the barbarians’ invasion caused it. But with historical and archeological research over time comes the better understanding, and we learned that Rome was teetering from the decay of moral, political and financial corruption and made itself vulnerable to Alaric and his Visigoths.

Since Pagans blamed the Christian God for the devastation, they turned their ire toward his Christians. The growing troubles between Pagans and Christians made a terrible situation even worse, despite the great irony that these very same Christians offered them sanctuary in their churches, because the Goths would not enter those churches. Those “barbarians” (from the stammering foreign language heard as “bar bar” by the Romans) actually gave respect to the Christians and their Christ, and spared the sacred places in which those pagans sought shelter!

From this chaos emerged a heroic Christian bishop, one who went to great efforts to encourage those in his flock and well beyond, to maintain their belief in the God of Christianity despite their suffering and loss (Where are our heroic bishops? They seem hard to find–except in the underground Church in China!)

He did this through his writings and many homilies over a period of years. The result was a book that is every bit as relevant for our day as it was for his: The City of God.

“The glorious City of God is my theme,” he said. “I have undertaken its defense against those who prefer their own gods.” And today, we have made many gods: materialism, scientism, rationalism, feminism, gender-ism, etc, etc. Our “Visigoth” are the many citizens who have received an education through the U.S. public school system, one that no longer teaches about God, faith, honor, virtue and patriotism, or about the “other”, but one that does teach its students about “me, me, me”, and to be victims. We need more clergy to stand as Augustine did, and become the vanguard leaders that we can follow against the moral and civic decline.

Those of us who do this will suffer. Augustine asserted that which we all know, that suffering comes to everyone. After all, “He (God) makes the sun rise on the evil and the good, and the rain fall on the just and unjust.” (MT 5:45) Continuing with this point, he says “There is a very great difference in the purpose served by both adversity and prosperity. For the good man is neither uplifted with the good things of time nor broken by its ills (my emphasis); but the wicked man, because he is corrupted by this world happiness, feels himself punished by its unhappiness. Ultimately, Augustine says, “the important difference is, not what ills are suffered, but what kind of man suffers them.

Augustine argued that Rome fell largely because the Empire discarded virtue as its main pillar.

All his efforts were to show the contrast: City of Man (the “Earthly City” vs the “City of God”)

• The City of Man: love of self, even to the contempt or rejection of God
• The City of Man loves power and domination over others, which in turn makes the oppressed lust for power so that they can dominate the oppressors
• He pointed out how their many gods could not save the city of Troy. In fact, those gods were conquered. So why expect them to save Rome?

Atrocities in war are the nature of war, Augustine wrote, so what was unique in Rome’s fall was the clemency and leniency shown by the barbarians toward Christians. None were forced from the churches to be killed or to be slaves. To this, Augustine wrote, “Whoever does not see that this is to be attributed to the name of Christ is blind!”

Augustine methodically took apart the pagans’ belief that worshipping their gods will ensure eternal life, partly by showing that their worship was not out of love for them but out of love for their own desires. And that is our challenge, as we see, hear and read about the turmoil in the very divided United States, from a growing number of its citizenry that rejects the aspirational goals of the nation’s founding documents.

• How are our lives oriented? To what? Or…to Whom?
• Do we pray for that which we want?? Or do we do as Augustine did in his other great work, The Confessions, and gush with praise for God and his glory?
• Do we learn from King David, and pour forth our love of God and our praise of him, as that patriarch did in his many Psalms?
• We can enjoy some or much of the blessings of the Earthly City, and we should meet our responsibilities as members of the human race and as American citizens; but we must know that our true home and ultimate destiny is not Earth.

The City of God is shaped by the love of God, humility of self, charity to the less fortunate and hope for the true eternal city: Heaven! Eyes on Christ! Jesus exhorted his disciples—you and me—“You are in the world but not of it. If you were of the world, the world would love its own. Yet because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, the world hates you. (Jn 15:19) So, I ask my fellow readers: “how will you respond?“

Twenty years later, Augustine lay dying on the cathedral floor, and witnessed the sacking of his beloved North African city: Hippo. So, the city of Hippo would be no more. The Cathedral would be destroyed. But the reality behind the Alpha and the Omega inscribed on the floor of the Cathedral where he lay dying, is eternal. Today it seems that we witness very little heroism from our bishops, especially in the context of practicing our faith in the context of the pandemic. So, I urge the Church’s shepherds to “Tolle Lege” (“takex it up and read”) Saint Augustine’s City of God, to help them stand athwart the secular–and internal– challenges to the faith!

Amen

If right now you don’t feel or believe that you are heroic or that you have heroism within you, then I hope that by the end of this series of blog posts you will have the conviction that you are heroic or that you have heroism within you.

THE HERO’S JOURNEY

Our novels, movies and real life stories describe the complexities that all humans experience, especially suffering for the sake of another, and the transformation that experience offers. The good guy doesn’t always win and is sometimes vanquished. But! The heroism lives on! The person becomes a hero after he’s gone because of the legacy he leaves behind, a legacy of heroism that can change the world. We learn this from our greatest hero, Jesus Christ, who said, “Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it produces many seeds.” You and I are those seeds! And properly fed and tended we can–and should–produce great fruit.

What defines a Hero?  A man admired for his virtuous achievements. Admired by whom? By OTHERS, because you can only be heroic to someone else! Heroism has the power to redeem someone who has become corrupted…like us. And that’s our faith.

Think of the the Good Thief hanging next to our Lord

(St Dismas the Good Thief, by Bradi Barth)

 

or, Prince Boromir, laying down his life for his friends (“no greater love”)

You give of yourself for the benefit of others, which is, after worship of God, the 2^nd most important commandment of our faith (“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind and soul, and love your neighbor as yourself” MT 22:36-40)

Lord Of The Rings is an epic story of good vs evil during a pilgrimage, because the fate of the world hangs in the balance. And JRR Tolkien’s experiences in WWI, along with his Catholic faith, must have significantly informed him during his writing. The massive loss of young lives, including those very close to Tolkien, changed the understanding of what a hero looks like (no longer the muscle-bound man) because of the ordinary looking heroes Tolkien saw on the battlefield. These are people with whom their peers can identify The story has many heroic characters, and most seem to think Frodo Baggins the main one; but in my opinion, Sam, Samwise Gamjee, is the real hero. He is a type of Simon of Cyrene, helping Frodo in his courageous friendship to carry the burden of the ring–and carry Frodo.

Who experiences the greatest transformation in the story? The lowly Sam, who agrees to help Frodo rather than remain at the cozy shire tending to his little garden (“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the Earth”). He is steadfast throughout the pilgrimage. I should note that, in his meekness, Sam doesn’t even realize that he has any heroism within himself; nor do any who know him! The seeds of heroism lie within you and within me, and we just need the journey to bring it out of us.

All who came into contact with the ring were tempted, but only Sam did not give in to that temptation, and willingly gave up the ring.

When Frodo realizes the magnitude of the task, he says to Gandalf the wise elder: “I wish it need not have happened in my time.” To that, Gandalf responds with one of the greatest responses by an actor, and by any human being: “So do I; and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

Sam seems to realize, more than Frodo, the magnitude of their journey and that great dangers lie in wait:

“I know we are going to take a very long road, into darkness; but I know I can’t turn back. It isn’t to see Elves now, nor dragons, nor mountains…because I have something to do before the end” And so do we all. The challenge for each of us is to find that something, our purpose, and the mission to fulfill it.

My friends, I pray that you’ve either begun your Hero’s Journey or you soon will, one that transforms you into a better person as exemplified by your charity to others, all because of your deeper faith in the ultimate hero: Jesus Christ. I hope that as you make your way, I can provide some help to you.

WE ALWAYS NEED HEROISM, BUT NEVER MORE IN MY LIFETIME THAN NOW

 

Until Part 2,

Tom

 

“Very truly I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed.

But if it dies, it produces many seeds” (John 12:24)

I wrote my last blog post in December, and the title, I’m embarrassed to say, is “Back on the job.” I should have added an *, and noted at the bottom: “At least until the end of the year” (haha). While my business and ministry workloads have made blogging difficult, it was an unseen virus that stopped me in my blogging tracks (for far too many, the unseen reaper stopped them dead in their tracks. Read on…)

By late February, I had some idea of the significance of the Wuhan Covid 19, but it wasn’t until my daughter, Maureen became very ill that I took it seriously. After seeing and hearing her misery during several FaceTime conversations, and knowing she was alone in a tiny apartment, I decided to bring her home to recuperate. While she very much wanted to come home, she also expressed great concern that I would get sick. I brought her home and five days later became ill, but thank God we have both recovered. She spent the next four months with me, as we both did our work via the internet. An additional concern caused by the viral pandemic was the lockdown’s effects on my work. I stopped listening to the news, because its non-stop alarmist reports about the pandemic and the crashing economy began to upset me.

Then In mid-May, I received an email announcing another death from the modern day plague, and this news hit me hard.

The message came from my friend, Pierce Centina, a cultured man I had met a few years ago who shared my love for the intersection of Christian spirituality and the arts. Early in the year he gifted me a book of poetry, written by his brother, Gilbert, a friar of the Augustinian order and whose verse explored the depths of the Good, Beautiful and True of life as well as humanity’s bad, ugly and false sides. Knowing that the Lenten season approached I decided to use his work for my spiritual devotion, and loved it. Over the subsequent weeks I shared with Pierce some insights I believed I had received from the Holy Spirit through his brother’s work, and as a result of this process I felt sure that I had begun to know his brother despite never having met him.

Eventually, I learned that as Fr Gilbert neared the end of what we should rightly call his Magnum Opus he had begun to feel unwell, and within two weeks of completing it he ultimately fell to the disease. I re-read Pierce’s announcement of his brother’s death while in a bit 0f a fog, and my emotional response made me realize that I had in fact begun to know the friar. Reading further, I had another stunned reaction when I learned that the reverend father had requested that I write the Introduction to his book. I re-read that sentence as well, as I was sure I had initially mis-read it while in the midst of great emotion. In short order, this one email made me reel from news of great sadness to that of great joy, both responses humbling me before the Cross on my desk, to pray for Father’s soul and to give thanks to him, to Pierce and, ultimately, to God for the blessing. What follows is an excerpt from the Introduction, something I hope inspires you to read the book by this holy and beautiful man:

As Jesus’ passion and death drew near, he told his disciples,

“The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.”[1] I look at this final work of prayerful verse by Father Gilbert as one of his many seeds, because from it has grown a touchstone gift both in and through this Introduction. The experience has transformed me; it has also made me hope that I have glorified God, honored our Padre and been a credit to Pierce and the “Centina community.”

It may be common to place greater value on an artist’s final work, or at least to have increased curiosity about it, especially when that work is seen in the context of his or her death. The Catholic tradition commemorates the anniversary of a person’s passing rather than his or her birth, in reverent hope if not celebration of that person’s entry into eternal life. Perhaps that will happen with this book. And so it is with that potential destiny in mind, that I will exhort others in my world with the words that transformed a sinner into a saint because he helped transform the lives of all who learned from him: “Pick it up and read! Pick it up and read!”[2]

[1] John 12:23-24 (NIV)

[2] Augustine of Hippo, The Confessions, Book VIII, No. 29, Translated by Maria Boulding, New City Press, Hyde Park, NY, 1997

Dear Father Gilbert,

I thank you for the faithfulness of your Christian witness, in both your holy office as well as in your artistic expression. You gave glory to God by your use of the talents with which He blessed you, and you helped transform this humble blogger into a better man, by the gift you bestowed upon him. I pray fervently for your rapid entry into God’s Kingdom, and for your intercession in the likely event that you’ve made it.

Love,

Tom