Category: Blog

Have you ever heard of Saint Scholastica? She was the twin sister of Saint Benedict of Nursia and is regarded as the foundress of Western female monasticism. She was born in central Italy in the year 480, and died of natural causes on February 10th, 543. As she lived pre-schism, she is venerated in both the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox churches. Her feast day is February 10th.

If you’ve ever been to St. Patrick’s here in Montreal, you know there are mosaics of individual saints all around the basilica. There is a mosaic of Saint Scholastica on one of the pillars in the back, where she is depicted holding a red book and a crosier.

According to Benedictine tradition, Saint Scholastica founded a monastery near her brother’s in Monte Cassino, Italy. There is some historical debate as to whether this was a “real” monastery with a community of women having taken formal vows, or whether it was more like a “house monastery” with her and a few other consecrated women living on her family’s estate.

We don’t know that much about Saint Scholastica, though. The only source of information is from Saint Gregory the Great, who, in his Dialogues, recounts a meeting between her and Saint Benedict. Apparently, the brother and sister met once a year, with each leaving their respective monasteries. They talked about spiritual matters and encouraged one another in their Christian vocation. At the end of one of these meetings, Scholastica asked Benedict to stay longer. He said no, that he couldn’t be away from his monastery that long. She then bowed her head in prayer and soon after the weather turned from pleasant to thunder and rain. Travel back to his monastery was out of the question, so Benedict stayed the night with his sister and they continued their spiritual conversation.

It turns out that Scholastica was hurt that her brother wasn’t listening to her, so she turned to God in prayer, since He always listens. That was how the weather changed and they got to spend more time together! Saint Gregory writes, “Is it not a thing to be marveled at, that a woman, who for a long time had not seen her brother, might do more in that instance than he could? She realized, according to the saying of St. John, “God is love”. Therefore, as is right, she who loved more, did more.” (http://www.osb.org/gen/scholastica.html)

Gender assumptions aside, this is true: she was able to do more because she loved more. I used to read Magnificat magazine, which, in the February 2011 edition, included this reflection: “Christ’s love for St. Scholastica and her love for Him spilled over into a lively and determined love for her brother, St. Benedict. Her love gave her prayer a power that startled even that holy man.” It all comes down to love. If we want to do more for God, we need to grow in our relationship with Him, because love is the only real source of power and strength we have.

I first heard of Saint Scholastica as a child, in a book called “The Holy Twins” (written by Kathleen Norris and illustrated by Tomie dePaola). The picture below is from this book. I love it because it shows the natural affection she and her brother had for each other. Saint Gregory writes that when Scholastica died, Benedict saw her soul “ascend into heaven in the likeness of a dove”, and then sent his monks to bring her corpse to his monastery so he could bury it in his own (future) grave. He concludes this story by writing, “By this means it fell out that, as their souls were always one in God while they lived, so their bodies continued together after their death.” Sometimes in hagiographies it seems like affection for others is depicted as wrong, but in this story, we see that it was exactly their relationship that helped each on their path to God. We need the love and support of others!

I’ll end with the collect for the day:

As we celebrate anew the Memorial of the Virgin Saint Scholastica, we pray, O Lord, that, following her example, we may serve you with pure love and happily receive what comes from loving you. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

(Photo from: http://tomiesblog.blogspot.ca/2012/11/limited-edition-holy-twins-print.html)

How far would you go in the proclaiming of your faith? Would you do so even though it meant death, pain, or suffering? In the comfort of our quiet North American lives, this is not a question we are often confronted with. Perhaps we can claim we ‘relate’ to an extent to what it’s like to suffer for one’s faith, as we see millions of our sisters and brothers in the middle east driven out of their homes, or killed because they are Nasrani ( the Arabic for Christian -followers of Jesus from Nazareth-). But even our efforts to relate with those who suffer for their faith, does not enable us to reproduce the experience these martyrs go through. And while no one should ever recommend that we follow the examples of the martyrs in our Church, I believe it’s important we at least try to channel the energy in their spiritual life that drove them to those moments of profound love for Jesus.

Today the Church remembers a group of these martyrs from Japan: Saints Paul Miki (a native Japanese Jesuit priest in formation), John of Goto, James Kisai and their companions. The story of their martyrdom was one deeply connected with the Jesuit ministry in the east. Thanks to the efforts of the Father of all missionary work, Saint Francis Xavier (1506-1552), and thanks to the efforts of his Jesuit brothers that came after his death, by 1587, there were around 200,000 Japanese who had entered the Church. Unfortunately, as is usually the norm in mission country, with growth, came tension with the existing political and religious order.

In 1593, when a group of Franciscans (who had a very different, more zealous style of evangelization than the Jesuits did) arrived to Japan from the Philippines, the tensions only escalated. As positive as their work may have been, their presence disturbed a delicate situation between the Church and Japanese authorities. This tension was exacerbated even further when a Spanish ship was seized off the Japanese coast, and found to be carrying artillery. The result was that paranoid, yet influential Japanese minister demanded the execution of 26 Catholics. The group was comprised of “three native Jesuits, six foreign Franciscans, and several lay Catholics including some children. Sentenced to die by crucifixion and lancing (piercing with lances), they were first marched 600 miles to the city of Nagasaki.”

Paul Miki is the one who is the most remembered because of his courageous efforts to evangelize to the mob who were mocking them, even while he hung on the cross:

“The only reason for my being killed is that I have taught the doctrine of Christ. I thank God it is for this reason that I die. I believe that I am telling the truth before I die. After Christ’s example, I forgive my persecutors. I do not hate them. I ask God to have pity on all, and I hope my blood will fall on my fellow men as a fruitful rain.”

He and his companions were in the end stabbed to death with lances on Feb. 5, 1597, at the site that became known as “Martyrs’ Hill” . We celebrate them today, since February 5th is the date we remember another great martyr in our Church, St Agatha. We are graced in this Church to have such a plethora of people that are absolutely heroic in the way they lived their faith in the world. Let us pray that we can learn to be as courageous and dedicated in the way we evangelize the world today. St Paul Miki and companions, pray for us.

By: Br. Dan (Source: Catholic News Agency)

The second in our series on Evangelization here at the NCSS Blog comes from a blogger who wishes to remain anonymous. Thank you for your contribution! 

We often hear the term “cradled Catholic” thrown around referring to those of us who have grown up with a practice of the Catholic faith as a part of our family life. It is a beautiful thing when parents of a newly baptized baby take seriously their responsibility to raise their children in the faith. These families are the ones that glow at mass – you know who I am talking about.

But the reality is, if we take an honest look at what’s going on in our generation, fewer and fewer Catholics are raised to love Jesus and the Church. This translates to fewer and fewer couples who allow God into their families and home life.

But something beautiful is happening in the midst of these trends – young people – you and I, are being invaded by grace. Many have encountered the love and mercy of God and have discovered that the Catholic Church as the true source of life and love. What a great mystery and miracle this is!

However, where does this leave us in our relationships with our families? For those of us who feel like the black sleep among their closest relatives, I have a message for you: you are not alone. There are many out there who have encountered Christ and desire to share how He has made “all things new” only to experience resistance, difficulty, arguments, misunderstandings, and great emotional heartache when encountering our families. This can be truly painful because it is in our families where we desire to be accepted and received most deeply.

Here are some tips (by no means exhaustive) to help you navigate these rocky waters:

1. A paradigm shift: We can often come from the perspective of “Why don’t they get it?” or “Why don’t they see the goodness of what I have decided to live for?” – the reality is that you chose something different than what was chosen for you. Your parents are confused because you aren’t walking in their footsteps and they are likely wondering why (with varying levels of frustration, expressed or not).  Feelings of humiliation, failure or shame come to the surface and these are not easy to deal with, even on a good day. We need to accept this difference, and be gentle with our families, while recognizing that God has a plan that we can hope in, even if we can’t see it in the immediate future.

2. Don’t hide: The easiest thing do when a Sunday rolls around is to slip into the car and head to mass without telling anyone. My thought process: “Don’t tell anyone you are going to church = less likely to have an awkward conversation later.” Makes sense to me. Um, no. Don’t hide!If you are going to mass or just came from mass – or you had a great night at a Catholic event, just share a little about it! You might not get into the same depth you would with your Catholic friends, but it doesn’t hurt to show your joy! When we are living in the spirit, we magnify the Lord – so don’t let your fears stifle the Holy Spirit in you. It can be an opportunity that God uses to touch someone’s heart, often without you knowing it.

3. Talk things through with a confidant:We all need support. Just like Frodo in the Lord of the Rings, we need to lean on others along the way. Ask for prayers from your friends when you are struggling, talk through the experiences you have with a faithful mentor or priest. Don’t let things fester in the darkened areas of your heart – but bring them to the light and let others help you make sense of it all!

4. Let go and do what love requires. Let go of your expectations. Don’t grasp at a reality that has not presented itself, but do what love requires moment by moment. Wash those extra dishes without being asked, call home to tell your mom where you are, do something thoughtful for each family member just because, expecting nothing in return. This selfless charity requires great humility and trust – both of which we are invited into as Christian disciples – especially when it costs us our pride.

5. Be easy on yourself. Just so you know: You will mess up. Why is it that the ugly sides of ourselves come out around our family?! They do, don’t they? And when they do, and you are not the angel you envisioned yourself to be, don’t beat yourself up. Admit your wrongs, ask the Holy Spirit for grace and help and try again. Apologize. Seek reconciliation and get in there again. It feels rocky sometimes, but it will get better as you continue seeking after the Lord’s guidance.

6. Pray for your family: I once had a wise women tell me, “pray for your family every day – one Hail Mary each day.” And I’ll be honest, it’s not easy; it’s hard to pray into situations that are difficult and expect God to do seemingly impossible and great things. But God calls us to such faith!  Another thought is to entrust each of your family members to a particular saint – saints are prayer machines! They want nothing more than to pray for us here on earth – so get the saints working for you and your family!

And lastly, know that you have a Father in heaven that is making up for whatever you need in those areas of your heart that need it most. He is on the sidelines watching you play and can’t wait to debrief with you when you the whistle is blown at the end of the game. He is longing to have you call him “Abba, Father” and let yourself be adopted by him as a son or daughter. Let yourself be fathered by God.

Take some time to repeat and pray:

• Father, father me.

Blog submission from Richard Bernier for NCSS

Do Catholics believe in predestination? And if so, does that mean God loves human beings “unequally”?

These are heavy questions, for if the answer to them is “yes” or even “maybe,” it may leave us wondering where we sit on the spectrum of God’s love and on the spectrum of salvation. That kind of uncertainty certainly doesn’t feel like “good news”, which is what Jesus said He came to announce (see, for example, Mark 1:14 – εὐαγγέλιον means “good news”, and when we translate it “gospel” we are just using a fine old-timey English word that means “good news”). Where’s the good news in wondering if God loves me more or less, wondering if I am predestined or not?

First things first. Spoiler alert: None of us is predestined to be lost. Though I am giving away my punchline, this is not the sort of worry that Christ’s Church is in the business of sowing; it is the worry that drove poor William Cowper mad, and who knows how many other lesser-known but no less God-loved souls besides.

No human being who has ever been created was created for damnation, created with no possible fate except to be lost. Not Judas, not Mao, not me, not you, not the guy who invented spray cheese, none of us was created with the inexorable fate or destiny of being lost. “God our Saviour… desires all [people] to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth” (I Timothy 2:4, RSV). The Catechism of the Catholic Church, shortly after using the word “predestination” (more on that later!), cites and makes its own the blunt affirmation of the ninth-century local Council of Quiercy:

“The Church, following the apostles, teaches that Christ died for all [people] without exception: “There is not, never has been, and never will be a single human being for whom Christ did not suffer” (para. 605).

In the richest sense of the wry and threadbare phrase, there is hope for us all. Why is there hope for us all? Because our Lord Jesus Christ became incarnate, and lived, and died, and rose again for every person. He came to destroy death for every one of us. He came to conquer sin and the enemy of our souls, he was made flesh and dwelt among us, so that we might all “have life, and have it abundantly” (John 10:10). God’s love for us is not a grudging concession; it is, rather, what God does because He is God. Bonum est diffusivum sui, St. Thomas Aquinas wrote (Summa theologiae, I, q. 5, a. 4): the good is diffusive of itself. The cosmos exists, being is, because God in His Godly love has created this immense and magnificent cosmos in a diffusion of His Godly goodness. The Incarnation makes communion with the Holy Trinity – eternal life, to call it by another name – a possibility for every soul, from the newly-conceived zygote or embryo whose own mother is as yet unaware of his or her existence, to Jean Vanier or St Edith Stein, to the most heinous and far-gone villain you can imagine. A possibility, I say, not a certainty: we are not inexorably predestined to damnation, but we are not even inexorably predestined to salvation either. Salvation is a possibility for all of us because God loves us all, and Christ lived and died and rose for us all; perdition is a possibility for most of us, because most of us are free. (The Church baptizes babies and the profoundly disabled because they too are called to the eternal life that begins at Baptism, but they are not free at the present time, they are not in any position to reject God – and therefore they are in no danger of perdition).

So it really makes no sense to think of God’s love for creation or for humanity or (more precisely) for each human being as “equal” or “unequal”. Love is not quantifiable, so what does “equal” love even mean? Yes, it is part of the human condition to have much more affection for some people than for others; even a parent or teacher will have a soft spot for this or that child, a secret (or even not-so-secret) warmth for one more than for another. The Incarnate God, Jesus Christ, in His humanity, was no exception to this very human trait: He had a soft spot for the disciple John (see John 13:23), and looked “with love” on the rich young man in his confusion and struggle (Mark 10:21). This asymmetry of affection is not the same as loving unequally: a good dad who secretly and quite naturally has a soft spot for one of his children in particular still genuinely wants and wills what is best for all of his children. In that sense, love is not measured primarily by the feelings associated with it but by the decisions it motivates, and a good mum or dad will act for the genuine good of all his or her children. God is not subject to the vagaries of human changes of affection; He is not petty, or cold, or resentful, so we need not fear any of the fickleness or whim that can make human love treacherous or unpredictable. By the only measure that matters – the measure of will – God’s love for each of us is beyond quantifying. Does God want eternal life for me? Yes. Does He want eternal life for you? Yes. Does He want it for everyone? Yes. Welcome to the club, where all are “equally” loved beyond measure – literally beyond measure, beyond any yardstick of equality or inequality that could possibly matter. The effects of God’s love are as different as human beings are different, I suppose, and we won’t grasp the whole drama of human and salvation history until the final fulfilment of things; but in the meantime, “equality” or “inequality” of God’s love is a meaningless measure.

God loves us all in the Godly way of loving, which is beyond human comprehension; and He wills that we should all have eternal life, pending our free acceptance of that unmerited gift. The Catechism of the Catholic Church, echoing I Timothy 2:4, speaks of the “universal saving will of God” (para. 1256). Every day, each of us is the recipient of countless gifts that vary widely from person to person – health, insight, friendship, strength, cheerfulness, opportunities, and so forth – that the Catholic tradition thinks of as “created graces”. A “grace” is simply an unmerited gift, and we all receive created graces by the sheer fact of existing. I have received much more than some, and less than others; but without wasting time on comparing my lot with anyone else’s, I have plenty to be grateful for, starting with the startling fact of my very existence. Besides these created graces, however, the Catholic tradition also speaks of uncreated grace, also called sanctifying or habitual grace, which is really the gift of God Himself: communion, friendship with the Holy Trinity, the gift of God’s presence and action in my being, inaugurated at Baptism and Confirmation, healed in Confession, and nourished and renewed by His real presence in the holy Eucharist. Eternal life consists of this uncreated grace, this communion with God, extended beyond death and the ravages of time, into the resurrected body to which we may all look forward.

What, then, of predestination? In my view, it is (with all due respect to the distinguished theologians who have used the term) a red herring. The only version of predestination that is compatible with the Catholic faith is so much unlike what we naturally understand “predestination” to mean that I think it would be much better not to use the term at all. Right off the bat, the Catholic faith rejects any notion that anyone is “destined” to be damned. That notion of predestination is, to my mind, frankly monstrous. So if we use the word “predestined”, we have to exclude any notion that anyone is “destined” to be lost; but that idea merely seems like the most logical flip-side of the claim that some people are “destined” to be saved. It begins to look like the only version of being “pre-destined” that is compatible with the Catholic faith must exclude any notion of being “destined” at all. It’s as if I chose to describe a certain bird as a mammal; “But wait!” you object; “doesn’t a mammal by definition have mammary glands? Does this bird have mammary glands?”. “No,” I answer cleverly, “it does not. It is a mammal in the non-mammalian sense”. Right. Perhaps another word would be better, no?

So where does this Catholic use of the term “pre-destination” come from? It comes, in my view, from a classic and vexing problem in Christian philosophy (and even theistic philosophy generally): if God knows what I am going to do, how am I free to do differently? If God knows today that tomorrow I will choose the soup over the salad, then it seems like I am not really free to choose the salad. Thus (the puzzle continues) if God knows the future, and therefore the future cannot be otherwise, then He must know if someone is saved or lost; but someone who is saved is only saved by the grace of God, which is unmerited; therefore God must have willed to give that person the necessary grace from all eternity, which may be true enough. By extension, however, it has been argued – quite wrongly, I think – that grace is wasted on a person whom God knows will reject it, so perhaps He doesn’t offer it, thus sparing the person the tragedy of digging himself an even deeper hole.

I have very little patience with such logical contortions. There is an immense literature on the problems of God’s knowledge of the future, on freedom, on the distinction between “God predicting the future with high accuracy” versus “knowing it as a present fact because He is outside time”; I will not attempt to summarize the issues here, largely because I have a hunch that they are mostly irrelevant and unsolvable. What does it mean for God to perceive as a present fact that which is, for me, merely a future possibility ? How does God perceive in eternity (which encompasses the present and the future) a future that does not yet exist, at least as far as I can see? To be frank, I don’t even begin to understand what it means to be “outside time”. Without intending any irreverence, I am tempted to observe this: I grew up with cats, and I am very fond of them, but I have not the faintest idea of how cats perceive the world and time; so how can I possibly expect to understand how God interacts with time? If I cannot understand the feline mind, then understanding the divine mind is definitely above my pay grade. This is not meant to be flippant, but to point out that grasping even human knowledge, grasping even animal knowledge, is a longstanding and thorny puzzle for the philosophical discipline of epistemology; we ought to be exceedingly hesitant to make sweeping claims about what God’s knowledge is like, especially if scurrying down that rabbit hole means losing sight of far more fundamental and certain realities, such as the goodness of God, and the foundation of our hope.

Instead, the Scriptures and the Catholic faith, while acknowledging the troubling mystery of sin and rebellion, largely consign “predestination” in most senses to the dustbin, because they clearly and vigorously affirm these far more important pieces of good news instead:

• God definitely loves you (no matter who you are) and wants you to be in communion with Him for eternity; in a word, He wants you to be saved.
• Through the life, death and resurrection of Christ, and the sacraments, and the free work of the Holy Spirit, you (no matter who you are) have available to you everything you need to be saved – simply because God loves you beyond measure. You have no need (or even any possibility) to try to earn it.
• The only thing that can thwart God’s plan for your salvation is the freedom He Himself gave you – for you are free to sin and to reject eternal life. Even if you have done so, you still have the chance to return to Him; but if you finally, ultimatelyresolve to reject Him, He will not force you to accept Him. However, there is nothing forcing you to reject Him, so entrust yourself to His grace each day and be filled with hope.

Today we begin a new series on the NCSS blog called “Saint of the Day.” The Catholic Church has such a rich history of holy men and women that we can look up to and ask to pray for us, so let’s get to know some of them throughout the semester. We start off with a Canadian saint, with this contribution to our Jesuit friend and Newman Alum, Brother Dan Leckman! 

Being students of a downtown campus, you hopefully have walked around a little bit in the streets of Montreal, and you’ve noticed a lot of names of saints on the street names.  If you’ve done your homework, you’ll even know that two of the biggest streets in the downtown/Plateau area of Montreal (Mainsoneuve, Jeanne Mance) are the names of people involved in the founding of Montreal. Indeed you can learn a lot about Montreal’s history just by looking at street names.  However, one name you will not find, is that of today’s saint, Marguerite Bourgeoys.  This to me is very  strange, because her impact on the city was not small. In 1657, she persuaded a work party to form in order to build Ville- Marie’s (this is what Montreal used to be called) first permanent Church, The Chapel of our Lady of Good Counsel (Bonsecours in French), a chapel that was finally completed in 1673. She opened the first school in the city in 1658 (almost 20 years after De Mainsoneuve founded the city). In 1671, she had enough courage and vision to found a non-cloistered community of nuns in Montreal, called the Congrégation de Notre Dame (or CND) – nuns not living in a monastery is common today, but was unheard of back then! To top it all off, what amazes me about this woman was her devotion to being close to, and available for, the most marginalized people in society. The fact that she committed so many years of her life to the young girls, the poor, and the aboriginal population of Fort Ville Marie is a powerful testimony to that. I can’t help but think that much of the city’s concern for the poor today has its origins in her selfless acts!

Still, I wonder how Marguerite would feel if she walked around this city, a place that she gave so much of her life to, and noticed that there were no street named after her. Something tells me that she would feel peace, because such honors are not what would have mattered to her. She would instead rejoice at the fact that her sisters today represent this city’s rich history more beautifully than any other community one may find in Montreal –even my own, the Jesuits! She would be so proud that these modern day CNDs remain a vibrant community of nuns who are involved and engaged in the charism and vision of their foundress.  Yes, she may feel some sadness that much of the works of the Church and of her community have declined dramatically over the years, but she would probably also feel hope, knowing thatshe had labored too hard to plant the seeds for there to be no hope, even today. So I pray that we can carry that hope for the Church in our lives today, and that we can all be as dedicated as she was to serving and caring for those who are less fortunate than we.

St Marguerite Bourgeoys, Pray for Us

Notre dame de Bonsecours, priez pour nous

Our Lady of Ville Marie, pray for us.

By: Brother Dan Leckman

When I first heard the word ‘evangelization,’ it actually came with a whole lot of negative connotations. I had images of weird people who knew the Bible backwards and forwards standing on street corners shouting to strangers about Jesus. But the reality of evangelization for most of us is completely different. Today we share some of the most common evangelization myths debunked.

“I don’t know enough about my faith.” If we all waited until we knew ‘enough’ then no one would ever share their faith. We are all learning and growing. Even if you haven’t quite figured out what makes the pope infallible, or how Mary fits into the picture, you can still share the basic Gospel message, the clear and simple truth of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection. If you still have doubts about your faith (and let’s face it most of us do), be a witness to others in seeking answers and searching after the Truth. Show the people you meet your desire for God and invite them into that journey with you.

“I’m kind of shy and not really into talking to random strangers.” Our most meaningful opportunities for evangelization happens with our friends, family, and colleagues rather than random strangers. Share your faith with your closest friends and family, rather than random strangers. Often these sorts of encounters are far more meaningful, as the message of Christ comes from someone they know and trust.

“I don’t want to push people into something they don’t want.” I agree! I don’t want to push things on people either. Evangelization is not ‘pushing’ the faith on someone, and besides, that wouldn’t work anyway. Being human means that we are constantly searching for meaning and truth. Evangelization is offering an avenue for that search. Your role is not to convince the people you meet of anything, but to present them with an opportunity to explore basic human questions. By being open to exploring, we allow the Holy Spirit to evangelize us. Also remember that if you truly have their best interests (salvation) at heart, you are proposing something they may not want but that they definitely need.

“I think evangelization is great, but I’m not really called to it” After the call to holiness comes the call to evangelization. Pope John Paul II wrote: “No believer in Christ, no institution of the Church can avoid this supreme duty: to proclaim Christ to all peoples.” (Read the whole encyclical here.) That includes us! We receive this call to evangelize with our baptism. So, evangelization is not a Protestant thing, or a charismatic thing, it’s a Christian thing!

“I don’t know how to start” Here are three super simple tips if you don’t know where to start. First, pray! Grow in your life of faith and pray for opportunities to share your faith. God will provide the opportunities if you ask. Second, often these opportunities to evangelize do not include actually vocally proclaiming the Gospel. There’s a quote attributed to St. Francis: “Preach the Gospel, and if necessary, use words.” Your life, your actions, your choices should all point to God. How do you treat other people? Does your life proclaim the joy of Christ? Third (and most practically), be honest and be open about your faith life. Sometimes we feel like we have to hide the fact that we are going to mass, or heard an awesome talk, or did a super fun activity with church friends. Just being honest about the importance of faith in our life can often lead to really good conversations.

Remember that evangelization not up to you! The great evangelizer is the Holy Spirit. Your mission as a baptised Catholic is to be part of that greater mission. Evangelization is a great joy and not nearly as daunting once some of our common misconceptions have been debunked.

If you have any questions along the way, stop by to see your friendly campus minister (Terrel) at the Newman Centre, or shoot him an email (terrel.joseph@newmancentre.org). Also consider taking a 6-week faith study, where you can be equipped with more tools for proclaiming the Gospel. Email faithstudiesmcgill@gmail.com for more info or to sign up!

Like many people who live in cities, I often find myself waiting for some form of public transportation. When I’m waiting, whether for the bus or the metro, it is almost impossible not to find myself straining for signs that something is about to arrive: the glimmer of lights in the distance, the faint hum of an approaching train. When I catch myself scanning for these signals, I’m reminded of an anecdote I once read. Two friends were waiting for a bus, and eventually one could be seen approaching in the distance. “The bus is coming,” one friend said, relieved to finally have this visual confirmation that its approach was imminent. “The bus was always coming,” replied the friend.

During Advent, and especially in this final week, we can all but see Christ approaching in the distance. After what sometimes feels like a long wait, all the signs point to His imminent arrival. In the same way, as we near the end of Advent, we approach the end of a period in which we have the reassuring presence of symbols to remind us of Christ’s approach. Whether it be through spiritual rituals like the lighting of the fourth candle or, in a more secular way, the annual traditions many of us enact in the final days before Christmas, from travels home to baking gingerbread, you can look around, and your eyes and ears and nose with all tell you that Jesus is almost here.  Like Mary in this week’s Gospel, we are given notice that the time is coming when the son of God will enter the world in human form.

This may feel like can feel like the culmination of preparation, and hopefully there is a deep sense of peace in welcoming Jesus into a heart made ready through spiritual preparation. On the other hand, maybe we are realizing that we have been so busy that we haven’t even been paying much attention to the signs leading up to His arrival.  Or maybe this was a year in which, for any number of reasons, it was hard to feel close to Christ even in the weeks leading up to His nativity. The Advent candles shine as brightly as they do because the weeks in which they are lit are the darkest of the year; this can be a time of stress, anxiety, and doubt. The opportunity to reflect on the end of a calendar year can provoke questions that are sometimes uncomfortable to ask, and to answer.

But, the second friend was right: even before it was close enough to be visible, the bus was indeed still making its way towards its destination. Without being able to see or hear it, it can be hard to feel sure that something is coming, but that makes its eventual approach no less real. Whether we knew it or not, Christ was always coming. In the final days before the celebration of Christmas we have the opportunity to embrace that knowledge in a special way, and rest in it with a sense of security and peace. Whatever we have tried to do to prepare ourselves for Christ’s arrival, He is going to be there to welcome us. In remembering this, we are also reminded that in any liturgical season, at any time in our lives, this is a deep and abiding truth.  The visible reminders of Advent manifest the hidden reminders we should carry in our hearts at all times: Christ is always coming.  Every day of the year.

By: Danielle Barkley

At this time of year, people (excluding university students) tend to be full of joy. They are joyfully doing their Christmas shopping, baking, and decorating. They are attending Christmas concerts and parties, singing Christmas songs, and going on family outings. These activities bring one kind of joy, and I fully admit that they make me very happy, but there is so much more to joy than this.

As Christians, we are called to live a deeper joy – a joy that permeates our whole beings regardless of what activity we happen be doing. The Third Sunday of Advent reminds us why we are joyful. In the first reading this Sunday, Isaiah says that the Lord has sent him “to preach good news to the poor, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners.” (Isaiah 61: 1-2) Isaiah’s words are not empty platitudes for a dejected people. His words foreshadow the coming of Christ. My friend told me just today that Christ didn’t just come for all: He came for each. He came for the poor, the brokenhearted, the captives, and the prisoners. Even if we are not literally in jail or living on the streets, at times, we all fall into these categories. We can be brokenhearted when someone we love has let us down. We can be poor in faith. We can be prisoners of our own sin. Jesus came to set us free. Just as a prisoner who is finally released is filled with elation, each of us should also be filled with jubilation. The question is: how do we genuinely experience this all-encompassing joy and how do we share this joy with the people around us?

In the second reading from this Sunday, Saint Paul writes, “Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” (1Thessalonians 5: 16-18) Wow, always be joyful! That seems like a really tall order. It can be extremely difficult to always be joyful, but Paul also tells to pray and give thanks. When we do these things, joy truly does follow. My favourite part of this passage, however, is the last line. It is God’s will for us to be joyful! This is a wonderful realization. Our desire to be joyful is in line with God’s will for us. We must simply open our heart to God and allow Him to fill us with joy.

Doing this can sometimes be a huge struggle.  There was a time in my life when I got depressed very easily. I didn’t feel like I had any friends. I felt like my family didn’t understand me. I felt overwhelmed by pressure of my own making to excel at absolutely everything. In short, I was miserable. Not only did I not see the countless blessings in my life, I had forgotten that there is always a reason for joy. God used a number of experiences to nudge/shove me out of my mindset. I soon learned that joy does not depend on the situation around me; it depends on my ability to remember every day that Jesus came into the world to save me. I want the joy in me to spill out into my interactions with everyone I meet. I believe that smiling and truly looking into people’s eyes is the first step to spreading abiding joy. This leads to spreading the Gospel because, one day, someone is going to ask what makes you so happy and what makes you so sincere. When that happens, I pray that you will have the courage to share the Good News.

Almost every morning, I read a letter that my aunt and uncle wrote for me before I left for university. They shared some very powerful insight that inspires me each day. I would like to share a few lines with you in the hope that it will inspire you, as well. “Write it on your heart that every day is the best day of the year. … Just to be is a blessing. Live to be a blessing to others. If you live like this, happiness will find you!” As we light the pink candle on the Advent wreath, let it remind us to cultivate lasting joy within ourselves through prayer and thanksgiving, and to radiate our joyful light outwards so as to warm the hearts of those around us.

By: Katrina MacKinnon

The Gospel for this Second Sunday echoes a refrain that screams Advent—“Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths!” (And if you prefer singing to screaming: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kuUl522_8jQ!) Today’s reading (Mark 1:1-8) goes on to describe the eclectic sense of style, eccentric palate, and extraordinary proclamation of Saint John the Baptist, the forerunner of Christ and herald of the Messiah!

Though camel hair apparel and locust breath may not conform to the PR standards of John’s time or ours, John possessed a rare blend of remarkable conviction and profound humility. He courageously proclaimed the coming of the Saviour while at the same time confessing himself “unworthy to stoop down and untie the thong his sandals” (Mark 1:7). Jesus captured this juxtaposition strikingly when He said: “Among those born of woman there has not risen anyone greater than John the Baptist; yet whoever is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he” (Matthew 11:11).

What are we to make of this perplexing figure, John the Baptist? What of his pitch to “Prepare the way of the Lord”?

We live in a culture of sordid self-promotion—elections, advertisements, the job market, they’ve all devolved into revolving around that terrible trio: me, myself, and I. The all-powerful Apple, the very company whose logo is the fruit by which original sin entered human history, is responsible for such egotistical products as the “iPod,” “iPhone,” and “iPad”! Soon enough some crafty competitor will begin marketing the “meRight,” “meBest,” and—most horrific of them all—the “meNoNeedGod”!

John the Baptist, in word and example, offers us a profoundly different path: the Christian life is not the way of self-promotion but of Saviour-proclamation! The ancient cry to “Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths!” is just as relevant now as it was in first-century Palestine. Forerunners of Christ are as just as direly needed in our day as they were in John’s!

And who are the Johns of our day? We are the Johns of our day! How are we to prepare the Lord’s way? Shall we preach at street corners, sport camel hair, dine on honeylicious locust, and grow alarmingly unkempt facial hair? While certain male students on campus seem to have already mastered the facial hair bit, I don’t think the call of today’s Gospel requires any of these.

The first pathways we’re to prepare are the pathways of our hearts. How can we make the Lord’s paths straight in our world if they are not first straight in ourselves? When Mother Teresa was asked the first thing she would change about the Church, her response was simple: “You and I.”

This is the invitation of today’s Gospel, of John the Baptist, and of the entire season of Advent: “Prepare the way of the Lord”—and begin with ourselves. How are we to prepare the Lord’s way in a season of frenetic card writing, gift giving, well wishing, Santa hat donning, and eggnog chugging?

At the end of his inaugural homily as Bishop of Rome way back in April of 2005 (when most of us were still in elementary school), Pope Benedict XVI echoed these words across St. Peter’s Square to the young people of the world – to each one of us: “And so, today…I say to you, dear young people: Do not be afraid of Christ! He takes nothing away, and he gives you everything. When we give ourselves to him, we receive a hundredfold in return.”

When we allow our interactions to be touched by the light and life of Christ, we lose nothing of our own individuality or identity. Instead, these are fulfilled, uplifted, and given new meaning and depth. It is like light pouring through a stain glass window: the more radiant the light, the more beautiful the window! The more we allow ourselves to radiate the light of Christ, the more fully we shine and the more brilliant our beauty! This reveals the wisdom of John’s raison d’être: “He must increase, I must decrease” (John 3:30).

Prayer, reflection, repentance, Scripture meditation, and the sacrament of reconciliation offer us tremendous tools of interiorly preparing the Lord’s way by which we make room for Christ and make straight His paths within us. But this straightening of paths doesn’t end with our interior fulfillment or personal spiritual growth, it spills over to our relationships with our friends and classmates, our celebrations with family and relatives, our encounters with perfect strangers, and even our approach to final exams! Making straight the path of the Lord in our lives allows us to become pathways of Christ, by which Jesus is able to enter our world as He did two thousand years ago on that silent, starry night in a makeshift manger in the simple town of Bethlehem.

How about starting each of your exams with a short prayer? While those around you are scrabbling to fill out their scantrons and launch headlong into feverish essay writing, why not sit a moment, offer your efforts to God, and say a simple prayer? It’s amazing the peace you can find by preparing the Lord’s way! Or keeping track of your friends exams and texting them the day of to let them know they’re in your prayers? How about infusing a little faith into your Christmas cards? When we allow Christ to enter through us as His pathways, we lose nothing of ourselves but become more fully who we’re meant to be. We become bearers of the greatest gift we can offer, the most precious present of any Christmas since the very first: Jesus Himself.

Preparing the Lord’s way takes at least as many forms as there are moments in our day. This Advent, will we dare to make our moments occasions of preparation for the One heralded by John the Baptist? Will we make our paths straight and make ready our hearts for the Babe born in Bethlehem? During this beautiful season and always, let us be pathways of Christ by which the Lord enters our world anew.

By Julian Paparella