Articles by Brian Caulfield
The Purity Story
Nov 11, 2013 / 00:00 amMy parents met at a parish social in New York City soon after my dad returned from a World War II navy stint. They were both Catholic high school teens. My dad was finishing his senior year after taking time out to defend his country and my mom was 15. Their meeting was, as my mom tells it, love at first sight. She saw this dashing young man at the punch bowl, hoping he would pour her a cup, and he did. They dated for years, when young couples still went “steady,” and became engaged when my dad had some job prospects lined up. They were married in the Lady Chapel of St. Patrick’s Cathedral, a few blocks from where they both grew up, in midtown Manhattan.I have seen countless times the photo of them standing in the “close” outside the cathedral, she in her fine white dress and he in his black tux adorned with a white carnation. They look so young, attractive, hopeful and in love. They had lived through war and were touched by death and hardship in their own families, yet their faces radiate innocence and something more – purity. A purity that was expected of Catholic couples in 1951.That black-and-white photo, taken at a significant starting point in the life of a young couple, is framed prominently in my parent’s bedroom to this day. Next to the photo is another one of me and my two older brothers taken by a professional photographer when we were about 8, 5 and 3 years old. These two photos, for decades joined together on the bedroom cabinet and in our hearts and minds, tell much about my parents and the kind of family we grew up in. As the old sing-song goes: first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby carriage. As I reflect on my formative years, I realize that the assurance of love and marriage provided a wonderful sense of security for me and my brothers growing up. This is the type of security I hope my wife and I are giving to our two sons today.There is something else I would like to pass on to my boys – a sense of purity. Not a puritanical mindset that sees the body as dirty, sex as a necessary evil and the devil in every detail. But a noble, gentlemanly purity of heart and mind that knows the temptations of the flesh yet chooses – by grace, expectation and example – the higher good. I learned of that purity not only from my parent’s wedding picture, but more powerfully from a story my mother told me when I was 13 years of age. She must have known I was on the edge of adolescence and probably wanted to give me a good example for my future relations with females. Yet the most persuasive part of the story was in the way she related it, which told me just how much she cherished my father’s gracious goodness.The story goes like this. During their dating period, they would meet many evenings for a simple snack at a luncheonette and then walk the city’s streets, winding out different paths to prolong their time together. Inevitably, they would come to the door of my mother’s apartment building and say their good-nights. My mother told the next part of the story with such exact detail and wonder that I knew she was reliving the moment as she spoke. Each night, she would turn toward my dad, expecting a little hug or an innocent peck on the cheek, but my father would stand very tall and proper, remove his right glove finger by finger, and say very sincerely yet formally, as he shook her hand, “Well, my sweet, it has been a very enjoyable evening with you. I hope I will have this pleasure again soon.”As my mother repeated those words, I could see the two of them in my mind (I knew the exact building where it had taken place) and decided immediately that this was how I wanted to act with a young lady. The year was 1971, before impurity flooded TV and the media, and I resolved in my heart to be that young man, taking off my gloves finger by finger to shake the hand of my beloved.As I now endeavor to inculcate this value in my own sons’ hearts – the elder just turned 13! – I know that it may be time for another purity story.
How do you know you’re a man?
Sep 9, 2013 / 00:00 amGuys of a certain age will remember Chuck Connors, TV’s version of Charlton Heston, who blasted his way across the small screen as “The Rifleman” for five seasons beginning in 1958. Week to week, he was the consummate straight-shooter: a widower riding the West with his pre-teen son, working hard and saying little, encountering trouble (usually a gang of black-hatted bad guys stealing livestock), and doing justice in his square-jawed, reluctant way by shooting two or three with his rapid-fire rifle, which he wielded like a handgun. It was pure testosterone fun. Connors came to mind when I was considering the topic of this article: “How Do You Know You’re a Man?” He starred in a less popular TV series in the late 60s called “Branded,” also set in the Old West. This time he was an Army commander wrongly accused and court-martialed for deserting his troops under fire. The dramatic opening scene each week showed Connors being stripped of his hat, insignia and sword and marching out of the fort as the high wooden doors closed behind him. The theme song ends: “Wherever you go for the rest of your life you must prove you’re a man!” It was a great theme for a 10-year-old kid like me to hear. The sense that there was a measure for manhood and the possibility of being cast out and BRANDED was instructive and somewhat frightening. How would I respond to the challenge? Would I cut and run to leave my men, my friends, behind? Would I be willing to suffer and die for others, for a good cause? How would I shape up under fire, or the battle of life? How would I prove that I’m a man? Our American culture lacks definitive rites of passage for bringing teens into manhood. There are some unofficial rites, such as getting a driver’s license, ordering your first legal beer, getting drunk, and even graduating from college, but somehow many guys manage to remain adolescent in action and attitude through all these passages. First sexual experience has served as a last-resort rite of passage for generations, but we know that premarital sex is more a sign of irresponsibility than maturity. Not even marriage seems to be a popular passage into manhood, with most men waiting until nearly 30 years of age to tie the knot, and then not too tightly. Maybe we don’t want to run the gauntlet with the elders of the tribe hitting us with paddles as in some primitive cultures, but we American males could use some more defined ways of declaring ourselves bona fide adults – grown men with a mission. I welcome male readers to give their own answers to these basic questions: When did you first know you were a man? Was there a moment or passage you experienced? How do you think our culture can better prepare our adolescents for the challenges of manhood?
'Mystery priest' reveals thirst for God
Aug 26, 2013 / 00:00 amThe world is waiting for God. This is one lesson we can take from the “Mystery Priest” incident earlier this month in Missouri, when a Catholic priest appeared apparently from nowhere to anoint and pray for a young woman trapped in a car that was hit head-on by another driver. After 19-year-old Katie Lentz was rescued, the emergency workers wanted to thank the priest, but he was gone. A study of dozens of photos from the scene failed to show the black-clad, tab-collared man.Once the story got out from rural Missouri, the web lit up with news and conjecture about the “angel dressed as a priest” or “the priest who came like an angel,” and even network TV picked up the story of “the heavenly hero of the highway.” Who was this quiet figure on God’s mission?We know now that he was Father Patrick Dowling, a priest for 31 years of the Diocese of Jefferson City, Mo., who was just going about his normal duties on a Sunday morning, driving between churches to offer Mass, when he saw a line of cars and emergency vehicles on a stretch of country road. He pulled his car over, walked about 150 yards to the crash scene, and was told the trapped young woman wanted someone to pray with her. Father Dowling did what he says any priest would do in the situation. He anointed her, stood aside to let the emergency workers do their job as he quietly prayed the Rosary, then left after Lentz was freed and rushed to the hospital by helicopter. He had done his priestly duty, had another Mass to offer that day, and saw no need to stay around to receive the thanks he never imagined he deserved. His identity was only discovered days later from a comment he had left on the National Catholic Register’s website – a discovery that set off another round of web activity and landed him on TV news shows to tell his simple, humble story.Father Dowling was born in Ireland and still speaks with the soft accent of his native land, and now works with prison populations and Hispanic ministry in the Jefferson City Diocese. He has given praise to the emergency workers and police, and insisted that his prayers were only part of God’s work that day to save the life of a young woman. But he acknowledged that his priesthood and connection to God made his role more noticeable and meaningful to others.“When God touches down to earth, people are drawn to him like a moth is drawn to a lamp,” Father Dowling told the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. “It’s beautiful.”Indeed, even in our secular, skeptical age in which so many profess “none” as their religion, it takes only one incident along a remote, rural highway to remind us of our thirst for God and our need to connect with him through the humble yet extraordinary service of a “mystery priest.” The fact is that we are blessed to have so many wonderful priests among us, and the real mystery is that we don’t thank them for all the things – little and large – they do for us each day.
'Lumen Fidei' for Families
Jul 22, 2013 / 00:00 amJoy! That was my immediate reaction when I heard that Pope Francis was releasing his first encyclical on the topic of faith. I know papal letters are not often the cause of rejoicing, but there are many reasons to be happy over this document, Lumen Fidei (Light of Faith).First: This is the work of “four hands,” as Francis himself described it. In issuing the encyclical, Pope Francis finished and continues the masterworks of his predecessor, Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI. Our beloved Benedict wrote on love (Caritas Deus Est), hope (Spe Salvi), and the relationship of love and truth (Caritas in Veritate). He had begun this most recent encyclical on the theological virtue of faith but did not finish it before stepping down in February.We Catholics can rejoice that Francis saw fit to build on his predecessor’s body of work and complete this letter on faith, as a teaching document and also as a sign of continuity from one papacy to another. The Pope is the Successor of Peter, who was established as vicar by Christ himself, and holds his Chair by the grace of God. He is not an elected functionary or bureaucrat. He holds the keys of the kingdom, handed on from one pope to another for the salvation of souls.Francis, in the humility that has graced his papacy, chose to underscore these facts by following the path Benedict blazed.Second: There is so much in the text of Lumen Fidei to engender joy in the believer and even in those who do not share in the fullness of the Catholic faith. The encyclical opens the door to faith, leading the reader through faith history, beginning with Abraham, “our father in faith,” and the patriarchs of Israel, and proclaiming that all the promises made by God in the Old Testament are fulfilled in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, true God and true man.That is to say, the Light of Faith is first of all the faithfulness of God throughout history toward the human race. He is a God, a Father, who keeps his promises. This is the “light that shines in the darkness,” which leads humanity on the way of truth and salvation, and thus we need fear no evil as we go forward in life, uncertain though the path and our own strength may be.The Good News is that God is faithful, he has become one of us – a man in “all things except sin” – and has given us the means through Jesus Christ to make it back to the Father, to heaven.Pope Francis also stresses the connection between faith and reason (it is not irrational or unreasonable to believe) and the very tangible good that people of faith have brought and continue to bring to mankind.Third: The family has an honored place in this papal document. This fact is a particular joy for all those whose vocation is marriage and family life. We are the primary educators of our children, and we have a special duty to keep the Catholic faith alive and vibrant in our families and to hand it on to our children.I quote from the section “Faith and the family” (Nos. 52 and 53), which is very personal in tone:“The first setting in which faith enlightens the human city is the family. I think first and foremost of the stable union of man and woman in marriage. … Grounded in this love, a man and a woman can promise each other mutual love in a gesture which engages their entire lives and mirrors many features of faith.”The love of a man and a woman in marriage requires faith and faithfulness, and in its expression there is reflected some of the aspects of faith in God. In fact, God must be present in that love for it to be constant and purified.The encyclical continues: “Faith also helps us to grasp in all its depth and richness the begetting of children, as a sign of the love of the Creator who entrusts us with the mystery of a new person.”I am reminded of St. Paul’s teaching that the love between spouses is a reflection of the Trinity, two persons begetting a third in love (see Ephesians 5:22-35).Finally, the encyclical offers a ringing challenge to our secular age, which claims to know all about love but misses its deeper meaning:“Faith is no refuge for the fainthearted, but something which enhances our lives. It makes us aware of a magnificent calling, the vocation to love.”I am afraid that our age, our culture, has failed to discern and respond to that “magnificent calling” to love – look at broken marriages, abandoned children, abortion, contraception, assisted suicide and the most basic denial of sexual difference in the begetting of new life.We have failed to love, and that failure is related to a lack of faith in God and in one another. Yet to move forward as a people, we need faith, hope and love. By God’s grace, the “four hands” of our two popes have given us a map to these three virtues, in word and by example.
The 'shock' of Gosnell
May 20, 2013 / 00:00 amSickened and horrified but not at all surprised. That’s how veteran pro-life activists have responded to the oh-so-late charges against and murder conviction of Philadelphia abortionist Kermit Gosnell.Those who have stood outside of abortion clinics praying or counseling women have known for years that these horrid practices take place unexamined – “snipping” the spines of born babies, placing them in jars, or leaving them in bedpans to wriggle and die unaided. They have stood on the sidewalks and witnessed first-hand that many police are more concerned about preventing pro-lifers from crossing the imaginary, court-imposed “bubble zone” outside of clinics than helping the teen limping out the door alone after an abortion, or asking too many questions of a paramedic when an ambulance carts away another girl through the back door. Pro-lifers have seen too many cops look the other way, too many emergency rooms fail to report abortion as the source of a girl’s bleeding, too many violations unchecked because the health inspectors wish to see no evil when it comes to abortion.No, sad to say, long-time pro-lifers are not shocked by Gosnell. He was just a bit more messy and less crafty than the average abortionist, but his grisly practices are common for the industry. Just ask the young women after they leave the abortion mill, as pro-life counselors have been doing for years. They talk about girls moaning in pain in other rooms, blood on the floor and sinks, the cold hands of the abortionist and the lies laid one atop the other about their stage of gestation, the size of the unborn baby, the little being’s beating heart and response to pain.Just ask the abortionists who have left the industry and told their stories in books, radio and TV shows, and You Tube videos. They’ve been saying the same thing over and over, yet they’ve been ignored by the mainstream media and by lawmakers and health inspectors. They could have told the nation years ago about Gosnell and his ilk, if anyone in power would have listened. But when Big Abortion whistles the cultural and media tune, such former abortionists are looked upon as traitors to the cause, untrustworthy, or religious fanatics.Everyone is now horrified at the gory details from the Gosnell trial and astounded by the lack of oversight by Pennsylvania officials, right up to the “pro-choice” governor. You would think that surely now there will be an outcry to cause the abortion industry to retreat and reform. But don’t be too sure that enough people, government officials and mainstream media outlets will care enough to push for change. Those “pro-choicers” who have been shamed into outrage remind me of the corrupt official in the movie “Casablanca” who claims to be “shocked, shocked to find that gambling is going on in here” as the casino cashier hands him his winnings. In predictable form, the abortion industry has distanced itself from Gosnell, calling him an “outlier” and even blaming pro-lifers for making abortion appear so unseemly that only hacks like Gosnell get into the business. That is why we must keep up the pressure, contacting our lawmakers, posting and tweeting the facts of the trial, telling our “choice” relatives, friends and neighbors about the horrors of abortion, supporting our local pro-life pregnancy center, and even joining a local group that prays peacefully outside an abortion facility. The dark door of abortion has been pried open a crack, and we must use this rare opportunity to let in the light of truth, for the sake of pregnant women and their babies.
The enduring relevance of Captain and Tennille
May 6, 2013 / 00:00 amYou can tell from the title that this column will border on the frivolous, but given the tragedies our nation experienced last month, which still leave open wounds, I thought that a brief treatment of a light topic may be appropriate.If you’re a person of a certain age who listened to radio in the ‘70s, or are younger but have heard your parents play those “oldies,” you may be familiar with the group Captain & Tennille. The star was Toni Tennille, a tall, thin, perky singer whose stage presence was offset by her expressionless husband/keyboard player, whose one distinguishing characteristic was the captain’s hat on his head. He was famous for saying nothing on stage, even when prompted by his wife or various talk show hosts.In 1975 they hit it big with Neil Sedaka’s “Love Will Keep Us Together,” which had the peppy refrain, “I will, I will, I will!” – that is, Toni will be faithful to the Captain and pull him back when those “sweet talking girls” try to lure him. The song was on every radio that year, when I was a college campus freshman, and it symbolized for me everything that was wrong with the culture at the time. The poppish quality, the surface affection and affectation of the performers, the constant repetition and the saccharine sound that seemed to come out of a tin can all represented for me a huge turn back in music.I had grown up with the Beatles as they moved from the “Yeah, yeah, yeah” of “She Loves You” to the deep resonance of “I read the news today, oh boy” of “A Day in the Life.” My brothers and I “discovered” the rising bands on FM and studied the lyrics of classical-based groups like Renaissance and the “Quadrophenia” rock opera of The Who. I was by no means a hippie or fan of Woodstock (more about sex, drugs and irresponsibility than music, I thought) but I did spend many hours pondering what Jim Morrison meant by his “fragile eggshell mind” and studying Emerson, Lake and Palmer’s “Brain Salad Surgery.”Captain & Tennille’s syrupy lyrics that included “Muskrat Love,” “The Way I Want to Touch You,” and “Can’t Stop Dancin’” just didn’t match the serious rock proferred by my preferred bands.So it was somewhat a surprise to me when I was listening to the 70s station not too long ago and felt a deep nostalgia and appreciation upon hearing those peppy chords of the Captain’s keyboard introducing “Love Will Keep Us Together.” I was almost embarrassed that I did not change the station and stuck with Toni’s upbeat, Southern-teased singing. Now in my 50s, I had left rock behind long ago in favor of classical music and liturgical chant, and I suddenly saw the wisdom in the simple innocence of the Captain & Tennille song. Pop music today, as I catch snippets of it on the radio, seems so dull, adulterated, repetitive, hyper-sexualized and self-referencing – the cyclical droning and hysterics of Katy Perry, the hoarse boredom of Sheryl Crowe, the two notes and me-mine lyrics of Taylor Swift, or the look-at-me stardom of Justin Bieber.Late have I come to realize that Captain & Tennille have a more positive and enduring legacy than so many of the deep and important rockers of their era. Forty years later, the Captain and his gal sound hopeful and youthful in a way that today’s rockers – young as they are – can barely imagine and never match.
Boston solidarity
Apr 22, 2013 / 00:00 amMy 8-year-old son will receive his First Holy Communion next month, so I was struck with an overflowing sense of empathy when I saw the online image of the 8-year-old boy in his First Communion suit who was killed in the Boston Marathon bombing. That could have been my boy in the picture, dressed in a white tie and jacket, smiling innocently while standing outside the church, holding an art project with symbols of the sacrament – chalice, bread, host – very similar to the First Communion banner of my Justin that hangs on our door at home.How incredibly sad that Martin Richard, this child of God, this child who was such a gift to his parents, should die as a result of a cowardly act of terrorist violence, on a sunny day of celebration at the Boston Marathon. I showed the picture to my son, who simply whispered, “Oh,” when I explained what had happened. The look on his face indicated that the world outside had suddenly become a lot bigger and more inexplicable to him. Who would do such a thing? Why do bad things happen to good First Communion boys?According to news reports, Little Martin’s mother and sister, also standing along the spectator route near the end of the marathon, suffered serious wounds. The father, Bill Richard, was able to walk away from the bloody crime scene. The family was active in the Dorchester community and their parish. As a fellow Catholic father, I feel a spiritual bond with Bill Richard, a man I have never met, and I pray each night, and at times throughout the day, for him and his family.What can he be thinking, what must he be feeling, having lost his little boy and with his wife and daughter in the hospital? I know I would feel grief, coupled with anger at the attacker, and a good deal of emptiness and confusion. Yet this good man, no doubt supported by his faith, his family and his parish, released a statement the day after the bombing:“My dear son Martin has died from injuries sustained in the attack on Boston. My wife and daughter are both recovering from serious injuries. We thank our family and friends, those we know and those we have never met, for their thoughts and prayers. I ask that you continue to pray for my family as we remember Martin.”The goodness of this man’s soul shines through these words. There is a touch of the Holy Spirit about them, in what they say and in what they silently acknowledge can never be expressed. Through a delicate declaration of grief, facts, love and measured emotion, Bill Richard has shared an appropriate part of his loss with the world. Fathers, especially, should be inspired now to pray for him and his “dear son Martin.” Let not this sadness pass without it lifting us up to become better fathers and husbands, men of deeper prayer and more practical and charitable action at home, at work, in our parishes and in our communities. We may never face the devastating grief that Bill Richard is facing, but we are tested in so many ways each day to rise above our weakness and bring strength, peace and love into our own lives and the lives of those who depend on us.As a start, perhaps we could suggest in our parishes that every First Communion class next month remember little Martin Richard, who may serve as a modern model for those receiving the sacrament for the first time.
Taxing their patience
Apr 15, 2013 / 00:00 amMy seventh-grade son is covering the Constitution and government structure in History class. While driving to school the other day, we were reviewing the division of powers between federal and state levels. Federal powers are “delegated,” that is, carefully circumscribed and limited to those defined in the Constitution. To underscore this point, we kept going over the Tenth Amendment, the key to understanding the balance: “The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States, respectively, or to the people.”“We are not creatures of the government,” I explained. “The powers ‘we the people’ have not delegated remain with us. Ultimately, these powers, or rights, come from the fact that we are made in the image and likeness of God, with inalienable dignity and an eternal destiny.”I’m not sure if my little editorial helped him on the test that day, but dads are supposed present the Big Picture.Continuing our drive-time review, we went over the specific federal and state powers, and what the textbook called concurrent powers, which both the states and the feds possess – such as exacting taxes, the topic of my next mini-lecture.“You should remember that we pay both federal and state taxes, a tax on top of a tax. Then there’s your real estate tax, which mostly goes to the public schools which we don’t use by sending you and your brother to Catholic school. And in Connecticut we have this novel thing called a ‘car tax’ in which all vehicles registered in your name are taxed according to some formula known only to the state.”My son smiled, and said, “I guess you’re all worked up because Monday is April 15.”“What’s that?” my 8-year-old asked.“That’s when dad has to file his taxes,” the older boy said.Not wishing to miss an opportunity for forming future responsible citizens, I ventured a little farther from the seventh-grade text.“When Jesus was asked about paying taxes, he said to ‘Render unto Caesar’ the payments set for taxes, but never to let our allegiance to earthly power undermine our worship of God,” I said. “God comes before any earthly power, and what we owe God comes before anything the government demands. If the two conflict, we must obey God and not men.”In the rearview mirror, I saw my boys look at one another with the expression, “There goes dad again!”“Hey guys, I saw that,” I smiled. “You’re lucky I don’t quote from the Catechism. It says that we are social beings and that it is natural and necessary for us to form associations and governments to promote and guard the common good. But there must be a principle of subsidiarity, so that the lower, more local bodies are not swallowed up by the larger, more powerful ones. What individuals can do alone or in groups should not be trampled on by the state, and the same in regards to state and federal authorities. This is a big issue today on so many issues.”I had just taught my younger boy “transubstantiation” for his First Holy Communion next month, so I didn’t think “subsidiarity” was too big a word.“The bottom line, boys,” I told my car-captive audience, “is that we may not like it, but paying taxes for the common good is part of our Catholic faith.”“Can we get back to the separation of powers, Dad?” my son said. “I have a test.”With not much help from me, he did well.
Life everlasting
Apr 1, 2013 / 00:00 amIt’s not difficult to teach the resurrection to kids. First, most grade schoolers have not seen too much of death, so they have a natural tendency to think that life just goes on. If there is something called death somewhere in the future, they think, surely it can’t be final since there is just too much life around to keep everything going. Next, there is a natural desire in every heart for everlasting life that youngsters have not yet had challenged by tragedy, defeat or depression. Life may not always be smiley-faced, but children really can’t imagine it ending.It’s only when we get older, and see that grandpa, mom or dad do not wake up from the casket that we begin to entertain doubts about life eternal. Breathing ceases, heart stops, blood cools, flesh sags, muscles go limp. Death is sudden, a moment, and life seems lost forever. The person has “given up the ghost” or the spirit, and it doesn’t appear that it will ever return, at least not to this still body.A child will think, he’ll get up again; he’s just sleeping. That’s a sweet, innocent thought, say we more experienced adults, but kids will learn what death is soon enough. Yet when Jesus told the crowd that the daughter of Jairus, the synagogue official, was not dead but sleeping, the adults in the room laughed scornfully and ridiculed him (Mark 5:21ff). Of course, she’s dead, they thought, priding themselves on their mature realism. But a simple, “Talitha koum! – Little girl, arise!” from the lips of Jesus was enough for her to get up, walk around and take something to eat. A new era had come. The reign of death had ended. But evidently not everyone welcomed this age of new life and the Savior who brought it, which negated what they thought they knew about life. They preferred their worldly wisdom and settled view to the revelation that was taking place in their midst.When Jesus said, “Unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matt 18:3), he certainly had in mind a child’s humble nature and low station in life, and a child’s innocence and purity. But he may also have been referring to a child’s natural view that death is not the end, that there is just too much life for it ever to end for good. Coming to the tomb of Lazarus, Jesus again referred to death as “sleeping” and assured Martha that her brother will rise again (John 11:1ff). Martha showed a childlike sense by saying her brother will rise in the resurrection of the last day, and Jesus responded to this simple faith, saying, “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and anyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” Jesus was saying, as he did about a number of his miracles, that if you believe in me, if you believe that I can do this and I am who I say I am, then it will be done for you.This Easter Season, let us approach the resurrection as “little children” who see the simple facts of life clearly and bravely, undaunted by the world’s mess and death. Let us become the true realists, free of cynicism and the scorning laughter of the crowd. Let’s say with Martha, “Yes, Lord, I have come to believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one who is coming into the world.”The tomb is empty. Death is defeated. Alleluia!
Benedict’s final lesson
Mar 4, 2013 / 00:00 amWhen I picked up my two boys from school last Thursday, they were all abuzz with news. Rather than bellyaching about homework or teasing each other in the backseat, they wanted me to know that they saw the Pope retire on TV in their classrooms that morning.“It was sad to see him go,” said my second-grader, Justin.“But he looked kind of happy when he was waving to the crowd at Castel Gandolfo,” noted my seventh-grader, Stephen.My wife and I had seen the same live footage on EWTN and I was pleased that our Catholic school took time from classes to let the students view history in the making. As we drove by the public school down the block, with the students being dismissed, I was glad for the thousandth time that we were able to make the financial sacrifice to send our boys to Catholic school. In the public school, no matter how much better the computers may be, the students were deprived not only of prayer but also of viewing and discussing this Vatican scene that was the top news story throughout the world.“Do you know what he said to the people from the balcony?” I asked.“Be happy!” replied Justin.“Don’t remember me. Remember Jesus!” Stephen said.Interesting how the different ages heard or saw slightly different messages coming from the TV screen. The younger one expressed the Pope’s simplicity, told in “happy” or “sad.” The elder brother heard more of the message and got to the heart of Benedict. His whole life and pontificate was about, “Remember Jesus!”At dinner that evening, I furthered the conversation by telling my wife, “Our boys saw history in the making today.” She listened as our sons described in differing details the bells ringing at St. Peter’s Square, the Pope flying in a helicopter from the Vatican to Castel Gandolfo, and the things he said and did before retiring to his room at the papal villa.“So there’s no Pope now?” Justin asked.“The cardinals will meet now to elect a new one,” I explained.“It will be one of them who will become Pope,” Stephen added, always anxious to show his greater knowledge before his little brother.As though following the train of thought, Justin said suddenly, “How many Stations of the Cross do we have in our church?”“Fourteen,” I said, figuring they had covered this topic in religion class that day.“What’s number fourteen?” he pressed on.“Jesus is Laid in the Tomb,” I replied.“Shouldn’t there be one more?” he continued.“Well, some churches have a Fifteenth Station for the Resurrection, but I think that’s more to make us remember that Christ’s life didn’t end in the tomb. He rose from the dead.”“It’s sort of like the Pope,” Justin said, getting to his point.We all looked, puzzled.“Just like Jesus died and rose again, so the Pope has gone away but he is still with us,” our son said.“That’s a beautiful way of putting it,” my wife and I agreed.For once, not even Stephen tried to get the final word on his brother. It was Benedict’s final lesson for our family.
Our humble Pope
Feb 18, 2013 / 00:00 amWith Pope Benedict XVI’s surprise announcement that he is stepping down, people have been sharing their favorite papal memories. I was privileged to be among the media crew covering his April 2008 apostolic voyage to the United States, when Shepherd One flew into Andrews Air Force Base and he was met by President Bush. Standing in the bleachers by the airstrip, I saw Bush 43 greet the Holy Father on the tarmac and stride proudly beside him toward a secure area, his chest bursting from his shirt. At that moment, it looked like the president was ready to convert to Catholicism.There were memorable Masses in Nationals Stadium in Washington, D.C., and Yankee Stadium in Bronx, N.Y. Everyone was struck by the calm and mild demeanor of Benedict, his welcoming smile and his lively eyes. He looked like a boy seeing the world anew, with hope and wonder. Yet his homilies were filled with deep and engaging thoughts, both personal and professorial in style. It was evident that he was a popular figure with a strong message, unlike so many stars of our day.Of course, as a Knight of Columbus, I was especially pleased when Pope Benedict spoke of the Order’s founder, Venerable Father Michael McGivney, in his homily at St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Noting the rapid growth of the Catholic Church in the United States, due to the heroic work and zeal of missionaries, priests and laypeople, the pope said, “We need but think of the remarkable accomplishment of that exemplary American priest, the Venerable Michael McGivney, whose vision and zeal led to the establishment of the Knights of Columbus, or of the legacy of the generations of religious and priests who quietly devoted their lives to serving the People of God in countless schools, hospitals and parishes.” The Holy Father had just declared Father McGivney as Venerable a month earlier, recognizing his heroic virtue.Probably the most moving moment of his trip came in the meeting with young people and seminarians at St. Joseph’s Seminary (Dunwoodie), Yonkers, N.Y. After meeting with disabled young people in the chapel, he toured the spacious seminary grounds in an open vehicle, waving and smiling as the faithful flocked to the railings to get a photo and a closer look. As he walked on to the stage, the crowd let out a thunderous cheer. Benedict waved for a few moments then motioned for everyone to sit down. In his innocence and simplicity, he looked surprised and embarrassed to be the object of such attention and adulation. He repeatedly motioned for people to sit down, but no one budged; they kept standing and clapping and waving and leaping for joy. Benedict looked bewildered over what to do with such a large, uncooperative crowd.Finally, an aide walked over to him and whispered in his ear. I am sure he said something like, “Holy Father, they will not settle down before you sit down.” A look of “aha!” came over the Pope’s face and he made his way to the papal chair, whereupon the gracious crowd of thousands sat down in groups on their beach chairs, blankets and mats. I thought of the Sermon on the Mount.As he vacates the Chair of Peter, it is evident that Benedict XVI has lost little of that simplicity and humility. He is a man surprised by his own celebrity, content to step aside from history’s most ancient and durable office to commence a quiet retirement of prayer and study. Personally, I think he is stepping down because he thinks that another, younger pope will serve the Church better. In time, we will realize what a deep and enduring gift he has left the Church, the world and every Catholic. Ad multos annos!
The McGivney way
Jan 28, 2013 / 00:00 amWhile our Church moves toward the opportunities and challenges of a new year, I have been caught in something of a time warp. As Vice Postulator for Venerable Father Michael McGivney, I have spent the last few weeks promoting his Sainthood Cause in the Philippines, far away from America’s 24-hour news cycle.My thoughts have been very much on the unchanging and the eternal, beginning with God and his grace and focusing mainly on the life and legacy of Venerable McGivney, the founder of the Knights of Columbus. Pope Benedict XVI declared his “heroic virtue” shortly before the Holy Father made his apostolic visit to the United States in 2008, and since that time we have been seeking reports of possible miracles and favors received through the intercession of Father McGivney. With 1.8 million Knights of Columbus and their families in countries throughout the world praying through the founder’s intercession (and many other Catholics and non-Catholics doing the same), many favors have been reported. As Supreme Knight Carl Anderson announced last August at the Order’s Supreme Convention, a promising favor is now under investigation and, God willing, will eventually move the Cause of Venerable McGivney toward beatification.My time in the Philippines these past two weeks has afforded time for reflection on the universal appeal of Father McGivney and the timeless nature of the solid Catholic virtues that he embraced and embodied. He lived according to “The McGivney Way,” forging a harmony between the spiritual and the material, the pursuit of eternal truths within the limits and demands of daily earthly existence. In some ways, he anticipated the themes and teachings of the Second Vatican Council and its proclamation of the Universal Call to Holiness.Father McGivney was a parish priest in Connecticut at a time when Catholics were literally second-class citizens within the regnant Protestant culture. Having lost his own father to early death (which nearly caused him to drop out of seminary to help support the family), he was well aware of the devastating effects that the loss of a breadwinner could bring to Catholic families. Thus, in 1882, he gathered together a handful of laymen from St. Mary’s Parish, New Haven, to found the Knights of Columbus, whose mission was to provide a death benefit (today’s life insurance) to the families of members, as well as to build up men in the Catholic faith and unite them in common charitable action. Charity, unity, fraternity and patriotism became the four principles of the Order.As told in the book “Parish Priest: Father Michael McGivney and American Catholicism,” the founder was not a typical 19th century priest. He stepped off church grounds to appear in court on behalf of an orphan destined to be shuffled off to a Protestant family. He went to the home of the city’s senior Protestant minister to console the family after the death of their daughter, who had become a Catholic against the wishes of her father. Perhaps most significant, in founding the lay fraternal Order, he refused to take the top leadership position, choosing instead to tend to the spiritual needs and instruction of members and leaving the running of the Knights to laypeople – an early precursor of Vatican II.All of this was part of The McGivney Way. He conducted his affairs in a well-planned, practical and collaborative way, identifying and addressing the here-and-now needs of his parishioners while remaining open to the transcendent values that must inform Catholic actions and decisions. He placed great trust and authority in the laity, and guided them in their earthly journey according to the horizon of eternity.During my overseas travels, I saw firsthand the enduring value of The McGivney Way. The Knights of Columbus was founded in the Philippines in 1905, fifteen years after Father McGivney’s death. Yet Filipinos embraced the Order immediately and there are now nearly 290,000 Knights in that mostly Catholic Asian nation. The experience of the Knights in the Philippines shows that the principles of the Order know no national or cultural borders, because the Catholic Church is universal, for all people and all times. These are truths to reflect upon when the issues of the day trumpeted by the 24-hour news cycle would suggest that this world is all there is.Father McGivney, intercede for us.
The difference faith makes
Jan 14, 2013 / 00:00 amWhat would your life be like without the Mass, the sacraments, regular prayer, a sense of God’s presence and goodness, the soaring sight of a church steeple, or the beauty of stained glass, not to mention the hope of heaven and life everlasting? Dull, hapless, horizonless, and maybe even a bit scary?
In all things faith
Nov 19, 2012 / 00:00 amAs we pass through the early weeks of this Year of Faith, it is well to recall the oft-repeated words of Blessed Mother Teresa: God calls us not to be successful, but faithful.
An original pro-lifer
Oct 22, 2012 / 00:00 amLast week I had the extraordinary privilege of meeting one of the true pioneers of the pro-life movement. Unlike most of those who were shocked into action by the 1973 Roe v. Wade and Doe v. Bolton Supreme Court decisions imposing abortion on demand on the country, the man I met was actually in a position to do something more than speak out, protest, and write his congressman. At the time, he was the Conservative U.S. senator from New York – that’s right, the state has a viable Conservative Party – who sought an immediate legislative remedy to the Supreme Court’s infamous overreach.I speak of the Honorable James L. Buckley, a pivotal figure in the pro-life movement from the very beginning, who is not well-known by the activists of today. He was honored on October 18 in New York City with the “Great Defender of Life Award” at the annual banquet of the Human Life Foundation, publisher of The Human Life Review. Senator (and later Judge) Buckley has indeed lived up to his title of “Honorable” through a career of public service, rarely grabbing the spotlight for himself, always looking for both the principled stand and the winnable strategy, and leaving a legacy of integrity that today’s politicians of both parties would do well to study and emulate. Among his many distinctions is the fact that he served in all three branches of government. In addition to his six years in the Senate, he was an under-secretary in the State Department, and later a judge on the U.S. Court of Appeals in Washington, D.C., the nation’s most prestigious, from 1985 till his retirement in 2000.He was also the key to the Reagan administration’s 1984 “Mexico City Policy” of denying overseas funding to organizations that perform abortions, a policy that has been revoked and restored by presidents along predictable party lines.Buckley, age 89, was born into the affluent Catholic family that produced his more famous younger brother, the late William F. Buckley, founder and editor of the conservative journal National Review. James was a Navy man serving in the Atlantic during World War II, and then went to Yale Law School. He practiced law and helped his father with the family oil business before being drawn into politics when his brother made a quixotic run for Mayor of New York in 1965. James served as his younger brother’s campaign manager, coining the slogan, “He’s Got the Guts to Tell the Truth! Will You Listen?” Not a slogan that would fly in today’s atmosphere of political pandering. The elder Buckley ran for the U.S. Senate on the Conservative ticket in 1970 and won in a three-way race, serving one term, from 1971 to 1977. His reelection bid was defeated by Democrat Daniel Patrick Moynihan.After the Court’s decisions of January 22, 1973, Senator Buckley sprang into action, introducing a Human Life Amendment to undo the wrong of abortion on demand. He knew a constitutional amendment was a long shot, but he also knew that one branch of government could not let the other violate the basic right to “Life and Liberty” put forth in the Declaration of Independence. Introduced on the Senate floor May 31, 1973, the Amendment reads, in part:With respect to the right to life, the word 'person,' as used in this article and in the Fifth and Fourteenth articles of amendment to the Constitution of the United States, applies to all human beings, including their unborn offspring at every stage of their biological development, irrespective of age, health, function, or condition of dependency.Receiving the “Great Defender of Life” Award, Buckley humbly stated that many other individuals were far more deserving, who have stood on the front lines of the pro-life movement for decades. “I had the opportunity to speak out on a national stage on a few occasions,” he said, “but others have been working hard day after day.”He observed that for many years after the 1973 decisions, the landscape for life was bleak, but in recent years the tide has seemed to change, so that a small majority of Americans describe themselves as pro-life. He recalled that a legislative aide of his used to say that if a woman’s womb were transparent, abortion would soon be outlawed. Today, Buckley continued, a window to the womb is provided by ultrasound technology, and this view of the humanity of the unborn has pushed opinion in the pro-life position.Pro-lifers have always have had truth on their side; now that truth is visible, and can no longer be denied, he concluded.The senior statesman of the pro-life movement told pro-lifers that they have every reason to be optimistic if they continue their efforts with hope, prayer and commitment. Let us all thank, and pray for, this great man of our times.
Talking Catholic to your kids
Sep 24, 2012 / 00:00 amWhen you have kids in school, sometimes you are faced with the basic questions of existence. Reviewing my seventh-grader for a Science test, we came across the question: Can living matter come from non-living matter?
Olympics and Faith
Jul 30, 2012 / 00:00 amWith the Olympic Games opening this week in London, and the world’s attention turned toward the performances of a few hundred elite athletes gathered for this quadrennial competition, it is a good time to consider the role of sports in our culture. It is safe to say that competitive sports – especially football, baseball and basketball – exert an outsized influence on our society, raking in millions in revenue and riveting the attention of young people in particular, who grow up emulating sports heroes, whether they are worthy role models or not.Yet there is much good in sports, especially when young people are inspired to train and compete themselves, and better their physical and mental toughness. Sports afford an outlet for youthful energies that otherwise could go into destructive behavior or sexual excess. When placed in perspective, sports also can teach discipline, hard work, how to follow rules, share with teammates, self-sacrifice, sportsmanship, and “the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat.” I still cherish memories from my Little League days, and my own boys now have learned much and grown in many ways from their Little League play.Even the Vatican has recognized the value of sports, forming a “Church and Sport” section in 2004 under the Pontifical Council for the Laity. The goal is to highlight the positive elements of sports, and show how an informed spiritual life must be part of a fully integrated person – a healthy mind and spirit in a strong body. After all, St. Paul famously used sports metaphors for the spiritual journey of life: “Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore, I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air.” (1 Cor 9:24-26)“I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith. From now on the crown of righteousness awaits me…” (2 Tim 4:7-8a)As we watch the Olympics, and cheer for athletes from the USA, and hopefully appreciate the skills and guts of talents from other countries – even as we count the medals for “us” and “them” – let us remember that there are challenges greater than gaining the gold, and steps higher than the top of the winners’ podium. Sports, it is often said, are a microcosm of life, with all the human faculties brought into play in a competitive game. While there is truth in this insight, the larger lesson is that this life is also a sort of competition or race for the ultimate goal, the highest prize, which is “the crown of righteousness” St. Paul writes about. The ultimate finish line, goal post, point score, is heaven, and this life is the arena of play. It takes the ultimate in “sportsmanship” – that is, love of God and love of neighbor – to get across the goal.Sports, in perspective, can teach us to work for that higher goal, with regular training, self-discipline, self-sacrifice and sights set on a higher goal. The ancient Olympics shared its name with the mount in the clouds where the gods resided. In our own way, we as Catholics believe in Olympus as heaven where the Trinity reigns. There is our goal and our home. Let the Games begin!
Saving sex from science
Jul 9, 2012 / 00:00 amRecently I delivered “the talk” to my 11-year-old son. Like most dads, this was a moment I looked forward to, and dreaded. How would I begin to raise the issue, gauge my son’s reaction, give him enough information but not too much? My wife was not too sure this was the right time to explain the “birds and the bees” to her “baby.” But I knew he was hearing things in school and Boy Scout campouts, and I wanted to be the first to pass on the facts about this great human mystery of love, sex and reproduction.
A bill to nowhere
May 14, 2012 / 00:00 amRecently I spent two weeks in Manila, the capital of the Philippines, and I am happy to report that the faith of the people is still strong in that majority Catholic country. Yet there are rumblings against the faith on the horizon. In the United States, we have the HHS mandate threatening religious liberty. In the Philippines, they are fighting the RH (Reproductive Health) Bill.
The Talk
Apr 23, 2012 / 00:00 amIt was a clear fall day, and I was ready to give “the talk” to my 11-year-old son. Like most dads, this was a moment I looked forward to, and dreaded.