On September 11th and 12th 2009, a Council of Major Superiors of Women Religious (CMSWR) two-day Eucharistic Congress took place from the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in Washington, D.C.

The Eucharistic Congress included talks by Cardinal Justin Rigali, Episcopal Liaison for the CMSWR and Cardinal Seán O’Malley, Chair of the USCCB Committee for Clergy, Consecrated Life and Vocations, and Mother Mary Quentin Sheridan, Chairperson of Board of Council of Major Superiors of Women Religious and many other featured speakers and homilists.

His Eminence, Marc Cardinal Ouellet, Archbishop of Quebec spoke about the sanctity of marriage and family in relation with the eucharist : “The eucharist in the mission of marriage and the family”

A must to see and to hear! (CMSWR Eucharistic Congress: Marc Cardinal Ouellet, on catholic tv)

Our liturgy rightly puts an emphasis on this intercessory prayer on this particular occasion, because it is here where we focus on the key event of our salvation, the passion and death of Jesus Christ. In these intercessions we pray for the Church, for the pope and clergy, for the faithful, for those about to enter the church through baptism, for Christian unity; we pray for the Jews, our elders brothers in the faith; we pray for those who do not believe in Jesus, or even in God; we pray for our world leaders and all those who suffer and are in need. In a senses we pray for ourselves. We are called to put ourselves in these prayers, for these prayers speak on behalf of all of us.

We all have to struggle through life, we all have times where we may struggle with faith in God. The Community, the Church, the body of Christ, are all formed by us, and in our humanity we journey along in the messiness life sometimes thrusts upon us.

Today we Contemplate the Cross, we face the extreme reality of our human condition. We know that it is often not a pretty sight. The cross of Jesus forces us to take stock of the reality of our own mortality, of our own shortcomings, of sin and the hurt within our world. There is evil in the world, each of us have or will come to face it at one point or another; and death, especially that of Christ’s, is a sign of that evil.

If our liturgy today invites us to take a close look at the reality of the cross, maybe it is because all to often our culture, our upbringing, our way of life, refuses the cross. We seek rather to deny the reality of the cross, of suffering, of death, or at least to avoid it.

Father John Monbourquette, a priest and clinical psychologist, wrote a book called ‘How To Befriend Your shadow.” In it he tells us that every person has a shadow, a dark side composed not just of sinful behavior, but of everything we have driven back into our unconscious for fear of being rejected. The Shadow is “a dark treasury that includes our infantile parts, emotional attachments, neurotic symptoms, as well as our undeveloped talents and gifts.”(p.12) Monbourquette tells us that we are called to bring our shadow into the light, that we may use it for our psychological health and spiritual growth. Neglecting to face our shadow, our dark side, is the cause of many obsessions and struggle and violence in our world. Father Monbourquette quotes Carl Jung: “it is not by looking into the light that we become luminous, but by plunging into the darkness.”

In a certain real way Jesus has done this ‘par excellence’. Jesus has entered the darkness, Jesus did not refuse the cross but instead embraced it fully. He became the Suffering Servant. As the prophet Isaiah wrote: “it was our infirmities that he bore, our sufferings that he endured, while we thought of him as stricken, as one smitten by God and afflicted. But he was pierced for our offenses, crushed for our sins; upon him was the chastisement that makes us whole, by his stripes we are healed.”(Is 52)

Father Cantalamessa, preacher to the papal household, writes: “We cannot embrace the ocean but we can let ourselves be embraced by it, immersing ourselves in its water at any point. In the same way we cannot grasp with our mind the whole passion of Christ, or even see into its depths. We can, however, do something better, more useful, and that is to immerse ourselves in it.”

Pope Benedict reminds us about the hope we have through the Cross:
“Christ’s death recalls the accumulation of sorrows and evils that beset humanity of all times: the crushing weight of our dying, the hatred and violence that again today bloody the earth. The Lord’s Passion continues in the suffering of men.

Every year, placing ourselves in silence before Jesus nailed to the wood of the cross, we realize how full of love were the words he pronounced during the Last Supper. “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many” (Mark 14:24). Jesus willed to offer his life in sacrifice for the remission of humanity’s sins. In front of the cross we are placed before something that humanly might seem absurd: a God who not only is made man, with all man’s needs; not only suffers to save man, burdening himself with all the tragedy of humanity, but one who dies for man.

Saint Jose Maria once wrote:
“Many years ago I saw a painting which made a deep impression on me. It showed the cross of Christ with three angels beside it. One was weeping; one held a nail in his hand, as if trying to convince himself it was true; and the third was rapt in prayer. Here we have a program for each of us: to cry, believe, and pray.

Here before the cross, we should have sorrow for our sins and for those of all men, for they are responsible for Jesus’ death. We should have faith to penetrate deep into this sublime truth which surpasses our understanding and fill ourselves with amazement at God’s love. We should pray so that Christ’s life and death may become the model and motivation for our own life and self-giving. Only then will we earn the name of conquerors: for the risen Christ will conquer in us, and death will be changed into life.

Every Easter season we read the passage of Luke’s Gospel about two disciples on their way to Emmaus, a town outside Jerusalem. This Gospel account is about a journey that often reflects our own lives. On this journey a man joins the two disciples of Jesus as they walk and discuss the terrible events that had just happened to Jesus in Jerusalem. They do not recognize this man but they welcome him. The stranger inquires of them why they seem so sad. And they ask ‘have you not heard what they did to Jesus the Nazarene? A prophet mighty in in deeds and word!’

And then this stranger explains the Scriptures to them starting with Moses and all the prophets.

He asks: “Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his Glory?”
So well did this man interpret the scriptures for them that their hearts were burning within them, yet they still did not recognize that this man who joined them was Jesus, their Lord and Messiah.

Isn’t our faith sometimes like this? We try living with Christian values, with Christian ideals, and yet we often live our lives without recognizing that Christ is with us on our journey.

Unfortunately we as Christians often do not know our sacred story, our holy past, because of this we do not know who we are.

Questions of who I am, where do I come from, why am I the way I am, are fundamental and existential questions!
We need to ask this about our Christian identity too. We must not be cut off from our sacred past. Cardinal Ouellete of Quebec has often spoken to the youth telling them that they should know their heritage, know who they are, and who they are called to be.

This Easter, during the Saturday night vigil, after reading many passages of sacred scripture, (our sacred story of salvation), 11 people became Catholic, four were Baptized, then confirmed with five others, and two made a profession of Catholic faith. It was a beautiful celebration, it was a celebration of the light of the risen Christ we had come to encounter.

To get to this point of entering the Church each of these people had to discover the sacred story of the faith, and thus discover too who they were before God; they were called to encounter Christ who was calling them to be disciples.

Jesus gives us complete freedom however to invite him into our lives, to be Children in the Risen Son. Like the disciple at Emmaus, we must not miss our chance to invite him to stay with us. When the the three travelers arrived in Emmaus, Jesus seems to take his leave of them, but the two Disciples ask him to stay and eat supper with them. Lucky for us Jesus hesitates long enough for them to call out to him. Jesus is always waiting for us to call out to him. It is only when Jesus breaks bread with the two that they recognize him.

What does it mean to have the name of Christian? It means that our hearts should be burning within at our encounter with the risen Lord. This can only happen if we come to recognize him. Like the disciples of Emmaus we will recognize him at the breaking of the bread.

Christ is risen and he is among us. Our sacred story, the history that gives us our identity, is celebrated and given full significance at the breaking of the bread, at the Eucharistic Table, where we know that Christ is manifesting himself. Christ is coming to our encounter.

The whole episode of this Gospel passage of Emmaus is a foreshadowing of our Eucharistic liturgy, of the way we are called to allow Christ to assure us of his continued work of grace in our lives. We celebrate his word and then we renew ourselves at his divine supper. Only then can we too go out and proclaim truly ‘the Lord is risen indeed, and has shown himself to us; we have encountered him, we have celebrated him together. We know who we are, we are his brothers and sisters, disciples and Children of God.

The saints, because they are with Christ, having died in him and often for him, are alive in him. Because of this we can have a relationship with them. Each of them have unique stories of their faithfulness to God and his Church and our relationship with them is not one of adoration (adoration belonging by right only to God) but of friendship, as brothers and sisters in the Lord. They pray for us and inspire us to faithfulness.

The catechism of the catholic church states: “It is not merely by the title of example that we cherish the memory of those in heaven; we seek, rather, that by this devotion to the exercise of fraternal charity the union of the whole Church in the Spirit may be strengthened. Exactly as Christian communion among our fellow pilgrims brings us closer to Christ, so our communion with the saints joins us to Christ, from whom as from its fountain and head issues all grace, and the life of the People of God itself.”(Catechism of the Catholic Church#957, Vatican II: Lumen Gentium #50)

Have you had an experience walking with a saint? Have you been encouraged by their stories, by their love of Jesus? Maybe today being the feast of Saint Patrick you can invoke his presence, he who spread throughout Ireland the love of the triune God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

May all the saints pray for us!

“Mother Teresa: In the Shadow of Our Lady” is a little book, with only a few (rather small) pages. You almost get the impression that the chapters are inspired from talks Fr. Langford has given during a retreat, or perhaps as a set of spiritual conferences. And yet these pages pack a spiritual punch, that sometimes catches you by surprise. To use an analogy, this book that reads a bit like a meal with lots of items on the plate. In a meal, the potatoes don’t taste like the carrots; neither has the same texture as the beef. In theory, you could make do without some part of it all, and yet why would you, especially when it is all prepared with devotion and seasoned with love? This book is like that: the sections on the appearance of the Virgin Mary at Guadeloupe read quite differently from the sections on Marian consecration, and yet they do go well together as a single “reading meal”. Some sections are more pious, others more theological, but it is all held together by a solid dose of love and devotion. Even one instance of questionable exegesis, where Mary is identified with the ancient term “Wisdom” found in the wisdom literature of the Old Testament (an association traditionally made with Christ, not with Mary) can be forgiven given its obvious origin in tender devotion.

Let me open a personal sidebar here: I have myself gone through a minor form of the Dark Night, called the “dark night of the senses”. In this dark night I felt the ordinary consolations of spirituality taken away from me, and while it did not challenge my faith, hope or love it was very disconcerting. What I discovered during this dark night experience was that, while God seemed distant, Mary seemed closer to me than ever. I had actually been putting Mary aside for some time within my spiritual life, as I didn’t want anything to “interfere” with my relationship with Christ, and yet it is as though that Christ himself sent me to Mary to help get me through this purification. I have therefore learned, from personal experience, the genuine value of a relationship with Mary in terms of progress in the spiritual life.

I am therefore glad to be able to recommend this book. It is not perfect: I would have liked to have seen more practical suggestions for how to live the spiritual life, although even just the small example of how to do the Examen well is probably worth all the effort I put into reading the rest of the book. And do not get the impression that reading the book was any sort of a chore: as an example of the spiritual life I found it quite inspiring. In one short paragraph, for example, Fr. Langford opened up completely new perspectives for me on the mystery of the Visitation of Mary with Elizabeth. From a purely personal point of view, any book that can nourish both my reflection and my prayer life has got to be worth something. My rating: A-

Fr. Pasquini’s goal in writing this book is to provide a “road map” for spirituality, a kind of overview of the key steps along the journey. The major strength of the book is its scholarly thoroughness. In other words, this is not just Fr. Pasquini talking off the top of his head: he regularly backs up his statements with quotes from saints and great theologians. As a reference text, it is just amazing.

On the other hand, I have to say that this same scholarly nature can be the book’s undoing. His first chapter, on “foundational points”, is basically a catalogue of spiritual terminology — very theoretical, and (to be honest) rather dry. I also got the impression that at certain points Fr. Pasquini was simply repeating — rather than re-presenting — some of the themes found in the old manuals of theology. In itself that isn’t bad: in fact, it shows a certain humility on his part. Nevertheless, it can tend to present the spiritual journey as some sort of exercise regimen, rather than the growth in relationship that it truly represents.

I think this book will actually be most useful for spiritual directors, to help them help others by giving them a solid introduction and/or reminder of basic foundational concepts. Those a bit more spiritually advanced would likely also benefit. That being said, even a beginner could get a lot out of the book — there is certainly nothing poisonous in it, just a lot of “meat” that may be a bit tough for some to chew. My rating: A

Fr. Pasquini’s goal in writing this book is to provide a “road map” for spirituality, a kind of overview of the key steps along the journey. The major strength of the book is its scholarly thoroughness. In other words, this is not just Fr. Pasquini talking off the top of his head: he regularly backs up his statements with quotes from saints and great theologians. As a reference text, it is just amazing.

On the other hand, I have to say that this same scholarly nature can be the book’s undoing. His first chapter, on “foundational points”, is basically a catalogue of spiritual terminology — very theoretical, and (to be honest) rather dry. I also got the impression that at certain points Fr. Pasquini was simply repeating — rather than re-presenting — some of the themes found in the old manuals of theology. In itself that isn’t bad: in fact, it shows a certain humility on his part. Nevertheless, it can tend to present the spiritual journey as some sort of exercise regimen, rather than the growth in relationship that it truly represents.

I think this book will actually be most useful for spiritual directors, to help them help others by giving them a solid introduction and/or reminder of basic foundational concepts. Those a bit more spiritually advanced would likely also benefit. That being said, even a beginner could get a lot out of the book — there is certainly nothing poisonous in it, just a lot of “meat” that may be a bit tough for some to chew. My rating: A

UPDATE (Nov 17): Photos online!

As I reflected on it, I had to conclude that yes it does. There is always a danger, of course, of making false generalizations, or of trying to universalize what are really cultural conventions regarding gender roles. Still, like I mentioned before, men and woman *are* different, and not just in a cosmetic way. We don’t know if Adam and Eve were tall or short, fat or thin, blonde or brunette or whatever. What we do know is that they were male and female, and they possessed the image of God in them precisely *as* a male and a female.

So rather than just leap into “men’s spirituality” I decided to focus the first part of the evening on the theology of gender difference, and then try and work out how my own theory of socionaturalism fits in that theological framework. It was actually quite fruitful. While I unfortunately forgot to record the talk, I did produce some Powerpoint slides to go with the presentation. Between those and the aforelinked Essay on the Nature of Human Culture any readers should be able to get a good sense of the content of the evening.