Perfection

When I was a junior at North Catholic High School (Philadelphia, PA), I remember our Christian Morality teacher began the course by quoting the Scripture passage many of us heard last weekend, “Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matthew 5:48).  As a 16-year-old average student, this teaching seemed out of reach; it seemed impossible.  I kept asking myself, “How can anyone be perfect?”  I believed that perfection meant being better than others, being without any problems, going through life minus struggles and sins.  With that definition in my mind, I reasoned that only Jesus and the saints were perfect.  Perhaps Jesus did not mean for his followers to take this so literally. 

Today, I think I have a better understanding of this teaching.  Jesus really did mean what he said.  He does not want us to be “average” or “pretty good.”  He wants perfection!  While this is still a challenge, I am able to see that it is possible for all of us.  I think we have to separate the call of Jesus to be our best and the psychological pressure to be flawless.  The latter idea can lead to stress, burnout or guilt.  

The message of Jesus is a call to be perfect, to become perfected and to grow in holiness.  This is the Christian call to become saints.  This is the vocation we were all given at baptism. This is the challenge to transform ourselves into what God has called us to be.  Saint Francis de Sales tells us again and again to “be who you are and be that well.”  If we try our best to be our best, we can transform ourselves and the entire world into the Kingdom of God. 

For de Sales, perfection is about striving to live each and every moment in the Grace of God.  Tomorrow is not yet here and yesterday is gone forever.  All we have is the present moment.  It is in this moment that we are called to live perfectly.  And if we can do this in the present moment, what is keeping us from doing it in the next moment?  Over time, these moments of perfection will get easier and our call to holiness will grow stronger.  Francis encourages us when he wrote, “God will lead us to perfection one step at a time.”

Yesterday, the Church began the season of Lent.  We all know this a penitential period of preparation for Easter.  It is also a time for Christians to prepare for the Kingdom – a time to prepare for perfection. Perhaps this is a moment to pursue holiness.  Perhaps we can make this Lent an opportunity to become a saint!

Father Jack Kolodziej, OSFS

Provincial

Wilmington-Philadelphia Province

The Light Continues

The liturgical season of Christmas wrapped up this past Monday with the feast of the Baptism of the Lord.  This feast should remind us of our own baptism.  The light that came into the world at Christmas is the same light that fills our souls when we are brought into the Church.  This light continues to brighten as each of us grow in our communion with God throughout our lives. 

The Gospel proclaimed on Christmas day was the Prologue of Saint John (Jn 1:1-5) where the Evangelist tells us that “the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

Throughout the weeks of Christmas, I have meditated on this image.  Reflecting on light has been important for me this year since it was a holiday filled with a lot of sadness, death and funerals.   

My Oblate brother and friend, Reverend Joseph Jocco, died on the morning of December 24.   My brother-in-law’s mother (Geri Peek) passed away on December 26.  Colleen Dougherty, the mother of a former student and colleague (Shane Dougherty) lost her battle with cancer on December 31.  On the feast of the Lord’s Baptism, a friend and mentor (Sister Jeanette Lawlor, CSFN) died after a brief illness.  It seemed that from the very first hours of the feast to the very last celebrations of the season, death and darkness were prevailing. 

The challenge this Christmas was to see God in these moments and in these sad situations... even in the clouds, amidst the confusion and among the questions we all have about life, death and our time on Earth.

I know I am not the only one experiencing loss and sorrow during the “most wonderful time of the year.”  Many people experience loneliness, depression and loss during the holidays.  When we are confronted with the shadows and darkness of life, the lights of Christmas can sometimes be a reminder of our emptiness rather than a renewal of our spirit.   

The good news for Christians is that we recognize God is at work in the world - in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, in sunshine and clouds.  In all seasons and circumstances, God is with us, Emmanuel.

At Christmas, God gave us the greatest gift, His Son.  We believe the Savior was born and lived so that we could continue to live.  The modern calypso carol “Mary’s Boychild, Jesus Christ” beautifully announces to us, “Hark, now, hear the angels sing, a new king’s born today... and man will live forevermore because of Christmas Day!”  

Through His Son, God gave us the assurance that as hard as it is, as difficult as it may make life, death will not have the final word.

The Word was made flesh and still dwells among us – in our family and friends, in the love we share and in the spirit of those we have lost. 

So even though the Church concluded the season of the Incarnation this past week (even though the decorations and music have mostly disappeared), the Word will continue, the light will keep shining and Christ will keep being born into our lives – because of Christmas Day!

Reverend Jack Kolodziej, OSFS

Provincial

Wilmington-Philadelphia Province

You Are Not the Center of Anything, Except...

Father Bob Bazzoli, OSFS, and I were ordained together on June 4th some 34 years ago. His parents and my mom (my dad died too early) would often go out to dinner on Saturday nights when Bob was at St. Joachim Parish and I at Salesianum School. One Saturday, his sisters were interlopers and joined us for dinner on June 4th.

Naturally, I thought we were celebrating the anniversary. When I realized we were celebrating his mom’s birthday, I explained my surprise (I never remembered her birthday) to which one of his sisters exclaimed (jokingly, I hope), “It’s not always about you, John.” Honest mistake.

There are times when we want things to be about us, our way, our idea, and our plan. We feign openness to another’s idea, but we really want them to affirm us, perhaps “pat us on the back.” We may not own up to this, as we perceive others constantly seeking attention, wanting to be the queen of the universe, the king of the world. At times, we may think we are the center of everything.

While driving a few Sundays ago, I was listening to a lecture (I’m a geek) on Richard Rohr’s idea of our first half of life (building a name, career, credentials) and the second half of life (soul-centered not ego-centered). I cannot remember the exact context, but it probably had to do with stop reaching for this award or that accolade. He simply proclaimed, “You’re not the center of anything, except the heart of God.”

We, you, I are at the CENTER of God’s heart. In that pulsating, life-giving heart of God, we can be found. We marvel at God’s creative action in all the wonders God created, none greater than the human person who possesses God’s very likeness and image. Of all the beauty in this world, the only thing God wants back is us! We come from God and spend our lives returning to God.

We are the CENTER of God’s heart. From this cherished position, God invites us daily into relationship. We are always in the presence of God. We may leave God’s presence for this want or some fleeting, selfish desire, but God remains waiting, smiling, and loving us. Saint Augustine spoke of this tiny “God-shaped hole,” a place inside our hearts that only God can fill. In another place he wrote, “You have made us for yourself and our hearts are restless until they rest in you, O Lord.” To realize that “the one who nothing greater can be imagined,” as Saint Anselm proclaimed, has us as the CENTER of his heart is absolutely incredible. Stay with this for some time. If we resonate with this, humbly accept this gift, live our life from this acknowledgment, I would think our desire to be the center of anything else is meaningless or at least pales in comparison. It leads us to a “letting go” of what we thought mattered to a “falling into” the LOVER known as God who keeps us at the CENTER of His heart. It allows us to see that everyone else enjoys this gift. Then, we can appreciate the dignity of others, all others, no one excluded. But God loving us and we loving God is not enough. Saint Francis de Sales explains that the true nature of love is to be ecstatic, to go outside the two lovers, to a third thing which is each other.

We are the CENTER of God’s heart. Own this and let it empower you to embrace the other as God’s center, too. Let go of the differences that too often alienate, judge, demonize, assure us of being right and just loved. God’s love is infinite and always available. Saint Catherine of Siena had it correct, God is pazzo d’amore, crazy in love with us. To borrow from Prince, “Let’s go crazy, too.” For when we love, we are God-like for GOD IS LOVE.

Father John Fisher, OSFS

Pastor, Our Mother of Consolation Parish

Philadelphia, PA

God’s Presence

I was a surgical intern in 1977 when one of my Oblate first profession classmates from the Battle Creek Novitiate came to visit my wife and me in Philadelphia.  Now a young priest, Father Richard Yost, OSFS, was going to spend the day with me in inner-city Philadelphia.  I had been assigned to an amazing Spanish surgeon whose sons were educated by Oblates, so Jose was excited to have Father Richard along.  The climate in those days was different so the only credential Father Richard needed to scrub into surgery with us was his Roman collar and our assurance he would keep his hands out of harm’s way.

During a break between cases, Father Richard asked how we were able to keep the complicated surgeries orderly and organized.  We asked if he realized we talked over the surgery while we scrubbed our hands but were quiet the last minute or so.  The end of the scrub was for prayer, for the Direction of Intention, and time before surgery to place ourselves in the Presence of the Lord as de Sales calls it.

For lunch we had Philly Cheesesteaks at Pat’s, standing at tables outside with two firemen, dirty and still in their fire gear.  It was just the kind of company Saint Francis would appreciate.  Father Richard talked about how amazed he had been with what we did that morning and the three of us talked about how we were equally amazed at the courage firemen show on a daily basis.  They told us they didn’t feel comfortable entering a burning building without a prayer asking for God’s guidance.  They were not the least bit reticent about telling us their need to be in the Presence of the Lord before fighting a fire.

After lunch Father Richard (in his Roman collar) and I went to make rounds at a couple of hospitals and Jose went to see office patients, the plan being to meet for dinner.  At one of the city hospitals, we saw a patient who had a terrible malignancy on the bottom of her foot.  Although she was Catholic (Agape was her name) she was also a Voodoo priestess, or so we were told by the people who had literally dropped her off when she lost consciousness.  Her tumors had metastasized and surgery prolonged her life but the quality had diminished over the last weeks.  She was in and out of consciousness but was able to communicate to Father Richard that she wanted absolution.  We left the room and went to the nurses’ station to write the progress note.  Not thirty seconds later, Agape’s EKG went flat line and she passed away.  No Code.  Father Richard looked at me and said, “She needed permission to die.”  Once Father Richard gave her absolution and put her comfortably in the Presence of the Lord, her soul was at peace. This was the same comfort the firemen and the surgeons felt that day before doing their jobs.

At dinner, the three of us unashamedly talked about how God really is everywhere, and like de Sales says, all we have to do is put ourselves in His presence by asking for such and how it doesn’t matter what our station in life is. He will help us be who we are and be that well.  Priest, fireman or surgeon, people depend on us to be in God’s Presence and share ourselves with them if we are spiritually fit.  That day there were five people who were happy to share that.

Rod Tomczak, MD, EdD

Retired, Department of Orthopaedic Surgery

The Ohio State University

Advent Hope

Hope is the sense that what we desire or long for is possible.  It’s an ardent feeling that things will turn out for the best.  With this in mind, hope is the great motivator that keeps us going in difficult and stressful times.  I consume as little news as possible these days as I cannot tolerate the fighting and the hostility that is prevalent in our world.  It gets sadder to realize that this has overflowed into our church in some respects.  My hope is that if we keep doing what we believe to be God’s will for the world each day, this can become contagious and others may do likewise. 

This is not to assume a position of self-righteousness, for humility grounds us always to know that whatever we do comes from God and that we rely on God’s grace, mercy and presence at all times. Instead, it is a mindset that comes from a relationship with the Creator to whom we belong, who wills us to make a difference in some way.  So, in the midst of so much negativity, we aim to do our part to make the world a bit kinder and gentler.  Hope seems to demand an idea of what we lost, of what we would like to see restored or of what God has in mind.  It is the desire to persevere to where we see ourselves putting God as the center of our very being and all that we do.  It’s knowing that we cannot think of living, loving and doing apart from God.  

Hope is that day when all people will have what justice demands, be accepted and loved for who they are, and be free to worship, love and live without fear, rejection or ostracization.  It is living until we see that there is no one outside our circle of intimacy but all enjoying being embraced by God. 

Personally, hope is fidelity to the present moment.  It is a recognition that God has given me another day, another chance, another opportunity to allow him to take hold of me where I will not let go.  Tenui nec dimittam was Saint Francis de Sales’ motto, “I have taken hold and will not let go.”  Each day’s hope is that we will let go a bit more, trust in God a whole lot more and better imagine Him today than we did yesterday.  But as I write that, I am reminded that it’s not about our accomplishment, our proving to God, but rather our emptying ourselves and allowing God to do for us, to love us where and how we are.  

It’s a confidence that God will not give up (has taken hold and won’t let go) and we grow daily in embracing, living and sharing this incredible and infinite love God has for us.  Knowing this in a humble way, leads us to wish this and to work for this for others. Gradually, the world becomes more loving as we continue to go out to those in need, recognizing they belong to us as brother and sister, and we belong to them.  Most importantly, we all belong to God. Hope brings us to a bond of belonging and kinship.  Hope is recognizing God in others rather than what separates us from one another.

Hope is not wishful thinking.  It has some evidence that propels us to want more completion, consummation and fulfillment.  It may not be realized fully until our God calls us home to be with Him for eternity.  But that invitation finds acceptance in the here and now.  

Hope is seen in one’s charity to another.  It is a prayer uttered for those whom we do not know personally but realize they are hurting, suffering, alone or forgotten.  It’s seeing a parent not giving up on their child.  It’s a little kid donating his piggy bank to an elderly couple who risk being evicted.  It’s crying when we know things should be different, better and then resolving to do whatever we can to see this happens.  It is “staying” with another, with our Church, with our sinful self, accepting continuously God’s presence, mercy and unmerited, unconditional love. Hope is “seeing the one beholding us and smiling” (Anthony de Mello, SJ).  

A little hope goes a long way.  Some days it is all we need to get by.  Let us hope in God, in God’s plan for us and the world, and in our ability to do our part.  Hope is “thy will be done” implying “our will be gone.”  Hope is “taking hold and not letting go.”

Father John Fisher, OSFS

Pastor

Our Mother of Consolation Parish

Philadelphia, PA

Advent Begins

An Advent song by Father John Foley, SJ, has this refrain: “Patience, people, till the Lord is come.”  Patience is one of the Little Virtues of Saint Francis de Sales, the other virtues include gentleness, humility, patience, simplicity, good-naturedness, tenderness towards our neighbor, bearing their imperfections, etc.  

We need patience because Advent is a time of waiting: to celebrate Christmas, to give birth to Christ this year by the way we live, and to deepen our relationship with Jesus Christ.  Many of us have a hard time waiting.  I lived with a priest who prayed, “Lord, give me patience and give it to me now.”  His prayer defeated its purpose because patience is defined as “the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset” (Oxford Languages online).  There was no tolerance for delay in my confrère’s prayer.

Our Liturgy gives us Advent to prepare to celebrate Christmas.  It is a time of anticipation, a time to wait to celebrate the coming of Jesus Christ in time many years ago.  Advent readings offer images of what will happen when the Christ, the Messiah, comes: valleys filled, hills made low, rough ways made smooth, the blind given sight, the deaf given hearing, the ill, mute and lame given healing, prisoners freed, debts forgiven, enemies made friends, and all peoples dwelling together on God’s holy mountain.  What a vision!  Especially when we consider the times in which we live where what divides and separates us seems more the focus than what unites us as God’s people.  And so Advent is counter-cultural.  We’re already celebrating Christmas with our trees, decorations, lights, music, shopping and more, but we’re called to wait with patience.  

Blessed Louis Brisson, OSFS, tells us that, “Advent means ‘coming.’  This time is set aside to prepare for Christmas,” which is the first great Advent when Christ became a human being to reconcile us with God.  He goes on to say, “The second advent of Our Lord is made in our hearts.  Every time that we have a good thought, every time that we take the Good God with us…” (Cor ad Cor, p.  11).  In other words, Advent is also about making Christ known today in clear and tangible ways.  So our songs, decorations, shopping and partying need not take away from Advent waiting and patience.

While these things are expressions of our love and care for those in our lives, when Christ comes, we are able to express our oneness as children of God on God’s holy mountain.  When we practice the love that God is and Christ made visible for us, we take the Good God with us and make God known today.  When we gather to celebrate the goodness of life, faith and love-made-flesh, we make the “Little Virtues” known and they can make a big difference in how we view ourselves and others as precious in the sight of God.  When we take time to be with those in need or take to give gifts of clothing, food, money, and presence to our sisters and brothers, we imitate Jesus’ care for all people.  When we visit family, friends, neighbors, and strangers, Christ is with them because we take the Good God with us.  And, in my experience, Christ comes to us in clear ways because of this welcome and gratitude.  When we work for systemic change so that injustice and oppression are less and inclusivity and egalitarianism are more, we challenge ourselves and our world to live the promises we hear in our Advent readings and we make God’s ways known in practical and clear ways.

Living the second Advent which Blessed Louis speaks about requires that we take time out to pray, to be with the Lord whose coming we celebrate.  We need to stop, be quiet, listen for God’s voice, share our hearts and minds with God in prayer, and wait for the response that will empower us to “Live Jesus” every Advent day and beyond.  

So I invite you to consider this prayer exercise each Advent day.  Make it your own 5-10 minute Advent calendar where you open the door of your mind and heart to discover how Christ can be known through you:

• First, close your eyes and quiet yourself.  

• Second, breathe deeply and let your breath and God’s breath unite.  

• Third, ask Jesus “How can I make you known today?” Review your day and look for opportunities to do just that.  

• Fourth, choose one of those activities and do it.  Take the Good God with you or pledge to see Jesus Christ in someone else.  

• Fifth, take a deep breath and say, “Thank you for being with me.  Give me the patience to do your will.” 

Then, not only will you see Advent as the time to celebrate Christ’s first coming years ago.  You will also see Christ coming to you and through you each day until Christmas and beyond.

Father Paul Colloton, OSFS

Superior, De Sales Centre Oblate Residence

Childs, MD

Advent Faith

For me, faith has always been confidence or trust in another.  I have faith in the mechanic who works on my car, the nurse to give me the correct medicine, the driver approaching who will stop at the red light, the person speaking with me is telling the truth, and that most people are genuinely fair, kind, and good.  In the Old Testament, people put their faith in God, His leaders, and His plan of freeing them from slavery, bringing them back from sin and promising a Messiah. 

The long-awaited Savior would gather the lost tribes (scattered because of sin), cleanse the temple (by making himself the new temple to seek forgiveness, become holy and offer right praise), defeat the enemy (sin, not hostile nations) and reign as Lord of all nations (a reality realized but in need of being accepted daily).   Some leaders had flaws, some people doubted, complained, or strayed, but through it all, God kept His promises by forgiving and renewing His covenant time and time again.  

In the New Testament, disciples left their livelihoods and family to follow this itinerant preacher who spoke not of vengeance, judgment and punishment but forgiveness, love, mercy and turning the other cheek.  They put their nascent faith in Jesus as he embraced children, loved the poor, dined with sinners and kept company with prostitutes, tax collectors and sinners.  He sought the last, the least, the lost and the lonely.  Richard Rohr noted that empathy for the victim became the most subversive element in Jesus’ teaching.  And while he cured the sick and forgave sins, he always spoke of the Father’s will, their relationship and invited all into this intimacy. 

More spectacular than restoring sight to the blind, hearing to those deaf and freeing those paralyzed and suffering from various ailments was Christ highlighting for others their faith which may have been unknown or latent.  Awakening this gift of faith invited them into a right relationship with Jesus and set them on the road to eternal life.  “Faith seems to be the attitude that Jesus most praises in people, maybe because it makes hope and love possible” (Jesus’ Alternative Plan, p.19).

The Messiah accomplished all four goals and continues to intercede on our behalf welcoming us back when we turn away with a sense of entitlement, cleansing our inner temple of the Holy Spirit by reminding us of his unconditional love and never giving up on us, defeating the enemy of sin, racism, hatred, bigotry, selfishness and the like with His grace and our cooperation and reigning as Lord of all nations of Heaven and Earth.  This is our faith.

 As I write this, I wake to a story of five people killed in an LGBTQ nightclub in Colorado Springs with more than twelve injured.  Club Q was the one safe haven in a community known for its anti-gay activism.  A misguided young man takes this away with his hate crime.  That same night, two men were stopped in New York, one wearing a Nazi armband, in connection with threats to attack a New York synagogue.  Faith sustains us in these moments to continue building the reign of God on Earth, that is, the world as God envisions it.  Faith empowers us to proclaim God as Lord of all nations, Ukraine, Russia, Iran, Iraq, the United States and every land and people God birthed into being.  Faith tells me that what God desires for our world must be embraced in the now.  Here is where the Gospel must flourish.  Anything contrary is unacceptable. 

Faith empowers us to do what we pray, ‘Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done.” That Reign of God is found in the home, at the workplace, on war-torn lands, in gay night clubs, in synagogues, mosques, temples, cathedrals and in us.  Faith is that gift that we can do better, we must do better.  Better put, faith is that gift that has us empowering God to do through our surrender, our trust, his vision and our willingness to give it a try today, tomorrow and always.  Faith enables us to be continually forgiven, nourished, held and kissed by our God.  It is that gift that convinces us that we are worthy of such infinite, unconditional love. 

Advent faith reminds us of God’s plan to share with us His divinity, which enhances our humanity from selfishness to otherness, from our will to God’s will, from division to communion, from slavery to freedom and from hatred to love.  Advent faith is the Savior of the World born in a stable, perfectly embracing our humanity and showing us how it is possible to “Live + Jesus.”  Faith makes the prophet Habakkuk’s words the motivating force that “the vision still has its time, presses on to fulfillment and it will not disappoint … and if it delays, wait for it for it will surely come” (Habbukuk 2:3).

May our faith make hope and love possible.  

Father John Fisher, OSFS

Pastor

Our Mother of Consolation Parish

Philadelphia, PA

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