Christmas Prayer

Dear Friend,

Many years ago, when I was the pastor of St. Rose of Lima Parish in Denver, CO, a good friend, songwriter, and fellow priest, Joe Raffa, wrote the following poem. It has always been a source of spiritual nourishment for me and a reminder of who I am in the heart of God and in the church which I carry with me through the Christmas season. Joe graciously gave me permission to share this with whomever I wish. 

Re-Member

Long ago and so far away
When time began in stillness stood.
The Word leapt forth from God to Shine
And re-member stony hearts
like yours and mine.

 Long ago and so far away
In memory of God our names were known,
Now bonded with the Word
We journey day and night
In hopes to trace our way back home.
To loose our bonds of fear
and re-member our hearts of light.

 And still today the Word is heard
Is seen and felt and still leaps forth
In lights that shine in humankind
And strikes the note in the memory of God
of names like yours and mine.

And so we wait this day -
We in cold and stillness stood
With glimmers of the Word - it is heard -
Who once came and
spoke the memory of God.
Will come again
And re-member each of us by our name.

By Joe Raffa 

This Christmas season, my prayer for you and your family is one of hope and peace. I pray that the light of the Christ, born in each of our hearts again, will leap forth and be a beacon of hope, compassion and love in your family, your community, and in our world. 

Merry Christmas and a Blessed New Year!

Fr. Jack Loughran, OSFS

Former Provincial

Eat Fish

Last Friday, I had fish for dinner.  It was a Friday during Lent, meaning most Catholics observe the meatless Friday rule by having fish on their dinner menu.  Fridays during Lent are one of the few times I eat fish. I don’t like fish, never have, and probably never will but it’s Lent, and I eat fish.  I’ve learned to tolerate this annual penance, not happily, but I sit at the table and quietly eat what I don’t enjoy.  I do it because it helps me live the spirit of the season. 

Eating fish on Lenten Fridays helps me remember that this season is a time for me to discover those things that are less tasteful in my life. Lent is a time to reflect and identify the habits, attitudes and behaviors that prevent me from successfully “living Jesus.”  Fish Fridays help me remember the practice of Lent and maintain the spirit and focus of this penitential season. 

Linguistically, lent is derived from an old English word meaning springtime.  In Latin, “lente” means slowly.  Lent points to the coming of spring and invites us to slow down our lives to take stock of ourselves. Saint Francis de Sales preached, wrote and advised many on the spirit of Lent and fasting. Here are some of his encouragements for this season. 

Saint Francis wrote that “fasting is not a virtue,” but fasting can lead us to virtue.  Paraphrasing Francis in his Introduction to the Devout Life, he encourages us to fast with our whole being.  If we have offended God through the eyes, ears, tongue and other senses, why should we not also make them fast? The ears, by depriving them of listening to destructive and cynical talk, only to fill the mind with negative and dark images. The tongue, by avoiding judgmental, offensive, gossipy and negative comments or discussions. “We ought also to cut off useless thoughts, vain memories, superfluous appetites and desires of our will.”

Eating fish on Fridays is not going to save my soul. But, as I abstain from meat on Fridays, it reminds me to abstain from actions, behaviors and attitudes that lead me away from Christ. Lent, in a small way, allows us to imitate Christ’s forty days in the desert. It is a time to let ourselves be unprotected, vulnerable and aware of our sinfulness so that we may turn again to the light leading us to God through the mercy of Christ. Lent invites us to stop eating whatever protects us from facing the desert inside us so we can finally give the angels a chance to feed us.

The need for Lent is in all of us. Without this time, we cannot correctly prepare; hearts open, thirsting and ready for the waters of life and the grace of Easter. 

So, Eat Fish!

Father Jack Loughran, OSFS

Provincial

Toledo-Detroit Province

Recreation for Renewed Reflection

Father Marty Lukas, OSFS and Father Jack Loughran, OSFS, with Steve Fox.

My secrets out!  I've been caught.  Last week I was on a Zoom conference with several other Oblates, and not wanting my location to distract from the business at hand, I did my best to disguise it.  Then, in the middle of the meeting, one of the participants said, "Jack, is that a palm tree outside that window behind you?"

It was, and my attempt to conceal the fact that I was at a resort in Cancun was foiled.  I couldn't convince them that palm trees do grow in Michigan.  And, of course, once I admitted where I was, I got a bit of grief from the guys stuck in the cold and snow of Michigan and Ohio.  "Must be nice!"  "Aren't you special?"  "Wish I could get away in the middle of winter."  I took the expected ribbing in the spirit of fun in which it was expressed.

My classmate, Father Marty Lukas, OSFS, and I have been traveling to Cancun with friends, Steve and Mary Fox, who own a number of time-share weeks at a beautiful beach resort, for over 20 years.  It is beautiful, especially in February when the sun and 84 degrees beat the pants off frigid Michigan.

I am a bit sheepish about having such a wonderful and extravagant vacation.  But, upon reading the following from the Introduction to the Devout Life by Saint Francis de Sales, I claim the wisdom of this Doctor of the Church!

Francis states in his classic work:

“It is sometimes necessary for us to relax both mind and body by some kind of recreation.  As Cassian relates; When a hunter one day found Saint John the Evangelist holding a partridge in his hand and stroking it by way of amusement, he asked how a man like him could spend time on so common and trivial a thing.  Saint John replied to him, ‘Why don’t you always carry your bow taut?’

“‘If it were always bent I’m afraid it would lose its spring and be useless when I needed it,’ the hunter answered. 

“To this, the apostle replied, ‘Don’t be surprised then if I sometimes relax my close application and attention of mind a bit and enjoy a little recreation so that I may afterwards apply myself fervently to contemplation.’ It is undoubtedly a defect to be so strict, ill-bred, uncouth and austere as to neither to take any recreation ourselves nor to allow it to others …It is the common prudence that gives due order, time, place and measure to all things.”

Some more wisdom from Saint Francis de Sales that serves body, mind and spirit.  I love it.

Father Jack Loughran, OSFS

Provincial

Toledo-Detroit Province

A Saint for Our Times

This past week, on January 24, the entire Salesian family, including the Oblates, celebrated the Feast of Saint Francis de Sales.  As our patron, all Oblates revere his goodness, faith and insights into the human heart, intelligence, the prolific body of written material on the devout life and his selflessness in caring for the spiritual journey of thousands and thousands of people.  

One of the traps of honoring any saint, though, is that we may find it easier to admire them than to imitate them.  Their lives and circumstances seem so removed from our own that we quickly distance ourselves from them.  Simone Weil,  a French philosopher, thoughtfully wrote, "It is not enough to merely have saints; we must have saints for our times."

While I agree with Simone Weil's insight, I believe Saint Francis de Sales IS a saint for our times, even though he died over 400 years ago.  One example of his relevance is a sobriquet attached to Saint Francis de Sales in the title, the Gentleman Saint.  It does not come from his position in society as a nobleman but his profound belief in the power of Christ's words in the gospel, "Learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart."  Our patron believed the gentleness of Christ was the way not only for social interchange but also the way to confront conflict, violence and evil. 

Throughout his life, Saint Francis de Sales was immersed in a Catholic community grappling with the Protestant Reformation and the violent religious wars that resulted.  He was attracted to a group named the Acarie Circle, a Catholic group who desired to rekindle devotion to the Catholic faith in France.  Some members of the Acarie Circle proposed a militant vision that sanctioned the use of force and violence to accomplish this goal.  Saint Francis de Sales, while cordial and respectful of the Acarie Circle, was not attracted to this method.  Instead of a vision of coercion and force, he embraced the gentleness of Christ as the way to lead others to devotion and a relationship with God. 

In this belief, he developed a theology of non-violence seen in the first sermon he gave at his induction as Provost of the Cathedral Chapter in the Diocese of Geneva. Saint Francis de Sales  wrote, “It will be by charity that the walls of Geneva must be shaken; by charity that the city must be invaded and by charity that it must be recovered.  I propose to you neither iron nor powder whose odor and taste call to mind the infernal furnace.  I am not forming one of those armies who soldiers have neither faith nor piety.  May our camp be the camp of God whose trumpets proclaim with accents all of gentleness, this song, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God of armies.  It is on this camp that you must fix your gaze...we will conquer only with prayer and love."

Violence is an overwhelming presence in our lives.  It impacts almost every facet of  our world and society, graphically illustrated by the horrific fact that in the first 24 days of 2023, there have been over 40 mass shootings in the United States.  Indeed, fear dominates as a response to this reality, and often, fear itself leads to violence.

The words of Christ that prompted Saint Francis de Sales to choose gentleness over violence must be rooted in every heart of faith.  As we cope with our world's disdain for peace, let us pray for peace and embrace a gentle heart and a gentle way to confront sin and violence in the spirit of Christ and the example of Saint Francis de Sales. 

Father Jack Loughran, OSFS

Provincial

Toledo-Detroit Province

Christmas

Many things make me smile during the holidays.  One is a memory of a nephew when he was about 6 years old.  A few days before Christmas, I was visiting his family with my parents.  My nephew was sitting in a chair in the living room corner, obviously pondering something.  He was naturally one of those  kids who never stopped moving, so his posture and mood were out of character.  I was looking at him, wondering what was going on in his head, when suddenly he popped out of the chair and announced to the room, “I hate Christmas!”  Asked why he hated Christmas, he stated, “Because it’s never gonna get here!”  His Advent “patient waiting” had reached its limit but he certainly brought a smile to my face.  

In 2012, Father Louis Fiorelli, OSFS, published a short booklet, “Inspired Common Sense: Seven Fundamental Themes of Salesian Spirituality.”  In this booklet, he states, “Saint  Francis de Sales understood the Incarnation as ‘God’s kiss to creation,’ the moment in salvation history when the divine and human hearts, at last, find one another.”

This image is a beautiful one to consider as we celebrate the birth of Christ this Sunday.  The moment of Christ’s birth, marked by dreams, angels, sheep, shepherds and a child in a manger, joins the miraculous with the mundane.  We should all smile at this thought and we do so with lights everywhere.  We light things up to celebrate this fantastic moment - trees, homes, bridges, skyscrapers, zoos, churches and more.  Local and national competitions reward the country’s most elaborate light displays.  Even the Oblate pastor I live with has set up seven Christmas trees in our home.  Why?  It seems a bit excessive but then again, maybe not! 

God is part of our history through the Incarnation in a new way.  We are moving toward the full reign of God.  It may take a few eons, but that is where we are headed, so we light things up to proclaim our hope and joy with this gift and smile.  I hope my nephew, now grown and with a child of his own, can instill this hope and joy in his son.  

So we gather at Christmas trees, parties and Christmas dinner tables and smile.  Smile at the world that says no to peace, happiness or justice.  We smile and say, Christ’s birth is the fulfillment of a promise – a promise God made to be with us always and to bring us glory.  And we pledge to live in a way that proclaims this wondrous and beautiful truth.  We pledge to live in love, to work for peace and to seek justice for all of God’s people!

That’s a Merry Christmas! May God bless us all with this gift! Smile!

Father Jack Loughran, OSFS

Provincial

Toledo-Detroit Province

Gentleness

Recently I read the Encyclical of Pope Pius XI on Saint Francis de Sales presented following the 300th anniversary of his death on January 26, 1923.  Pope Francis is to issue a letter to mark the 400th anniversary of the death of Saint Francis on December 28.  

In his encyclical, Pope Pius XI declared Saint Francis the Patron Saint of all Writers.  Pius XI began this work by stating, “The great need of our day is to curb the unmeasured desires of humankind, desires which are the fundamental cause of wars and dissensions, which act, too, as a dissolving force in social life and international relations.”

Don't you find these words strikingly relevant for our world in our day? I won't provide a grocery list of all that makes our world seem at least mildly crazy.  For many of us, finding a way to cope with our world's situation is overwhelming, leaving many with a sense of helplessness and even hopelessness.  

Pius XI identifies a remedy to this heavy burden in the beauty and grace found in the writings and life of Saint Francis de Sales.  The remedy is the virtue of meekness (gentleness), which Francis held as essential for imitating Christ.  By his admission, Francis found this virtue challenging, especially since he admits to a quick temper and ready anger.  Turning our hearts from anger, frustration and annoyance, to gentleness toward our neighbor and ourselves is a tough road.   

Pope Pius XI writes:

“The meekness (gentleness) of Saint Francis should be held up to the faithful in a very special way for their imitation, for this virtue recalls to our minds so well and expresses so truly the kindness of Jesus Christ.  It possesses, too, in a remarkable degree, the power to bind souls one to another.  This virtue, wherever it is practiced among men, tends primarily to settle the differences, both public and private, which so often separate us.  Likewise, can we not hope that, through the practice of this virtue which we rightly call the external sign of the inner possession of divine love, there will result in perfect peace and concord both in family life and among nations?”

Advent leads us to consider the meekness (gentleness) of the Holy Family, so well reflected in every manger scene this season.  Lowly animals, simple shepherds, a manger, and the Prince of Peace can lead us to rest in the gentleness of Christ and bring to our world the hope expressed by Pius XI in promoting the spirit of Saint Francis de Sales.

Here are some maxims from Francis de Sales that may help us model the gentleness of Christ and the Gentleman Saint.                                                                                 

“Nothing is so strong as gentleness— nothing so loving and gentle as strength.”  The Spirit of Saint  François de Sales, IV, 9

“It takes more oil than vinegar to make a good salad.”  The Spirit of Saint François de Sales, II, 13

“When you encounter difficulties and contradictions, do not try to break them, but bend them with gentleness and time.”  Letters to Persons in Religion, I, 6

“He who can preserve gentleness amid pains, and peace amid the worry and multitude of affairs, is almost perfect.”  Letters to Persons in Religion, II, 25

Father Jack Loughran, OSFS

Provincial

Toledo-Detroit Province

Gratitude through Grief

Last week I was on the 45-minute drive from my home in Adrian, MI, to my office at St. Francis High School in Toledo, OH. That afternoon I presided at the funeral of Brother James Dorazio, OSFS. Brother Jim died on October 9 at 88 years of age. The day was well planned. My morning was filled with setting up the reception at the Oblate residence, setting up the church, meeting the funeral directors, informing lectors and other ministers at the Mass of their responsibilities, and greeting Brother Jim’s family from PA and MD.

As I drove, thinking about the funeral and Brother Jim, a man I’ve known for over 50 years, I also began thinking of my older brother’s funeral, which occurred just five days before. Somehow, my thoughts and feelings for both men started to intertwine, and grief hit me like a slap in the face. My eyes welled up and sadness filled my heart. It’s a good thing the drive was 45 minutes long; the time allowed me to pull myself together and face my tasks undistracted when I arrived in Toledo.

Brother Jim died after a very long and fruitful life. My brother, Gary, died at 77, but his life was not as linear as Brother Jim’s. Ten years before his death, my brother began to exhibit signs of Alzheimer’s disease. I’m sure you know what the journey for him and his wife was like following that diagnosis. It wasn’t easy, to say the least.

As I drove, both of these deaths coming so close together, set my mind and heart into a whirlwind of emotion and thoughts. We all face this when we lose someone we love. While I’m still dealing with grief and the millions of memories that arrive following the death of both of these men, I am stepping back a bit today and looking at what death means for those of us who have the risen Christ at the center of our faith.

I believe it is not uncommon for people to think our faith should be our strength and guide at times like these, and to succumb to grief, loss, and sadness is somehow a betrayal of that faith. The great consolation for me in this is the story of the raising of Lazarus by Christ. Even though he told those who followed him that he was going to Bethany to raise Lazarus, upon his arrival there, Jesus wept. Christ himself has sanctified grief, loss, and sadness. These feelings reflect the power of the sacredness of our love for others and our need for one another.

I cannot imagine facing the death of those I love without my belief in the resurrection and the hope of eternal life in God’s reign. That faith is not disturbed by my grief, but it gratefully illuminates the hope in which our faith allows us to live. So, while I had my moment of despair on that daily trip I made to Toledo, I also found consolation in Christ and the resurrection. I am eternally grateful to God for this gift and to those who nurtured it in me.

In the words of Saint Francis de Sales, “Unhappy is death without the love of Christ; unhappy is love without the death of Christ!” (Treatise on the Love of God, Book 12, Chapter 13)

Father Jack Loughran, OSFS

Provincial

Toledo-Detroit Province

Trinity Sunday

This week, sandwiched between the feasts of Pentecost and the Holy Trinity, provides me with much to reflect upon. The main reason is that I have to prepare homilies for both. These two feasts are very similar as we recall what Christ has entrusted to us upon his death. 

In the Gospel of John, Jesus gives a long farewell speech at the Last Supper on the night before he dies. His disciples, understandably, are shaken, afraid, and not prepared to accept the brute reality of his impending death. He tries to calm them, reassure them, and give them things to cling to, and he ends with these words: I am going away, but I will leave you a final gift, the gift of my peace.

This gift of peace from Christ is the gift of the Holy Spirit, and, as we know, that is charity, joy, peace, patience, goodness, long-suffering, fidelity, mildness, and chastity.

In truth, the exercise of these gifts brings peace. They may not impact the world as immediately as war, inflation, drug abuse, mass shootings, or other social evils, but they are not as fickle nor evil as these occurrences are. The gifts of the Spirit reach deep into our soul and, when placed into practice, form us into people of the Holy Spirit; and bring lasting peace into the hearts of those around us.

In the gospel for Trinity Sunday, Jesus states to his disciples, "I have much more to tell you, but you cannot bear it now. But when he comes, the Spirit of truth, he will guide you to all truth.

I find Christ's gentle concern and kindness for us in this statement and the implicit trust He has in our ability to see, understand, and follow Christ striking. We do not need a grueling spiritual race or frantic effort to Live Jesus. We listen to the Spirit's encouragement to determine our next step. As Pope Francis suggests, "the next thing on our calendar is where God's will is found."

We all know what it's like to have our patience tried, but patience disarms anger, frustration, and offense. Goodness, fidelity, chastity, and mildness bring comfort, assurance, and trust. Charity, joy, and peace bring healing and hope. These gifts of the Spirit bring strength to follow Christ, and the ground beneath our feet becomes firm as we find our place walking in God's grace. Indeed, in the Holy Spirit alive in our hearts, we find peace.

How happy those souls who live only to do God's will. (St. Francis de Sales)

Fr. Jack Loughran, OSFS

Provincial

Toledo-Detroit Province

Accepting God's Will

A few weeks ago, I visited one of our senior Oblates residing in a local nursing facility. Due to back issues, he cannot walk or stand for any time, he needs assistance with basic activities. He also has mild dementia.

As we spoke he surprised me, asking if he had any role in an upcoming Province Assembly scheduled for the end of June. Our Assemblies typically occur every June, and, health permitting, every Oblate in the Province attends. It is always a joyful time as men from different parts of the country come together, reconnect, share what has happened over the past year, pray, share meals, plan for our future, and generally have fun together. All of us look forward to this time.

I was surprised he made this request because the Assembly is a four-day event, that includes travel, and spending the nights on site. Indeed, it is well beyond what is reasonable for him due to his health issues.

Catching me by surprise, I blurted out, “Of course, you can be there. Please join us.” At this, he was so excited and happy that he began to cry, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him how difficult it seemed. I knew that this would be an almost impossible request to fulfill. I also knew as I watched him weep, that his heart belongs to the Oblates, and not attending the Assembly would be sad and a painful loss for him. Chickening out, I told him I’d look into the possibility and get back to him next week. I just couldn’t tell him the truth and bring that disappointment to him at that time.

On the following Friday, I revisited him. On my way there, I prepared my response informing him, as gently as possible, that attending and participating in the meeting would be impossible. I was dreading it. As I entered his room, and before I could even say hello, he said, “Jack, I have to tell you something.” I sat down and he said, “I know you were probably driving here struggling to find words to tell me I cannot attend the Assembly. I want you to know that I have come to that conclusion on my own.” 

He went on to say, “St. Francis de Sales teaches us to recognize and believe that God’s will is found in the ordinary stuff of our lives. Due to my health, I know that I will not be able to participate in the Assembly. I know that I am where I am because I need to be, and it is God’s will for me to find His embrace and place in His heart here. I spent last night praying about this and know this is the right decision.”

I can’t tell you how relieved I was and grateful for his beautiful insights and trust in God at that moment. His sacrifice in accepting this truth expressed his faith and deep immersion in our Salesian charism. We talked for quite a while following this exchange, and as I prepared to leave, he reminded me of the saying of Francis de Sales, “Why build castles in Spain when you have to live in France?” He said, “I guess my France is this nursing home. I don’t necessarily like it, but I know God’s embrace for me is here, and I will accept His will by staying here.”

For me, this was a spiritual and life lesson from a wonderful Salesian gentleman. 

Fr. Jack Loughran, OSFS

Provincial

Toledo-Detroit Province