Author: Peter McCulloch

The Beretta Family

(Sam.1:20-22,24-28;1Jn.3:1-2,21-24; Lk.2:41-52)

Today, on Holy Family Sunday, we are reminded that the family is a vital pillar of every society.

Indeed, the most joyful and enduring societies in history have been those that strongly believed in the family. Why? It’s because it’s in the family that we learn unselfish love.

Unselfish love is caring for others without expecting anything in return – even when such loving is hard, like when you’re angry, hurt or disappointed.

In today’s Gospel, Mary and Joseph are frantic because they’ve lost Jesus. But this doesn’t diminish their love for him. To their great relief, they find him after three days, and then they return to Nazareth where, as Luke tells us, he grows ‘in wisdom, stature and in favour with God and men.’

Jesus’ Holy Family is the model for our own families. They show us how we can love without fully understanding each other. And they teach us that it’s in the family that we acquire the wisdom and values we need for the future.

Today, let’s hear the story of another holy family, the family of Alberto and Maria Beretta, who married in Milan in 1908.

Alberto was a businessman and Maria was a home-maker, and they had 13 children. Sadly, 5 died from Spanish ‘flu, and another died of tuberculosis. But Alberto and Maria never lost their faith in God.

They were devout Third Order Franciscans, and believed that their first responsibility was to give their children a good education and strong moral and spiritual values.

They went to Mass every morning, and every night they prayed the rosary together, entrusting their day to God.

Their son Giuseppe said, ‘Before learning about faith from books or preaching, we breathed it at home. We touched it with our hands, seeing how our parents spoke to us, loved each other, lived the Gospel and practised it before our very eyes. They were extraordinary people, with great faith in God’s providence.’

As they grew up, several of the Beretta children chose to dedicate themselves to God. Giuseppe became a priest. Virginia became a doctor and a missionary nun in India.

Enrico became a Capuchin priest and worked for 33 years as a missionary in Brazil. He has since been declared venerable and is on his way to sainthood.

And Gianna, the tenth child, is already a saint. She had wanted to become a missionary nun in Brazil, but became a paediatrician instead, and in 1955, aged 33, she married Pietro Molla. [i] [ii] [iii]

Like Gianna, Pietro came from a large and deeply Catholic family. Shortly before their wedding, Gianna wrote to him, saying ‘With God’s help and blessing, we will do all we can to make our new family a little cenacle where Jesus will reign over all our affections, desires and actions.’

They had a son, two daughters and two miscarriages before their last pregnancy in 1961. That’s when a tumour was found in Gianna’s womb. Wanting to save the baby, she refused radical surgery and only agreed to a limited procedure to remove the fibroma.

Shortly before the birth, Gianna asked Pietro to promise that if a choice was needed, he should choose the baby’s life over hers. ‘I insist,’ she said.

In 1962, Gianna Emanuela was born, but Gianna herself developed a fatal infection that caused immense pain. As she suffered, she repeatedly prayed, ‘Jesus, I love you.’ She died a week later, aged only 39.

Pietro was devastated, and went on to raise their children himself. He was present with the children when she was canonised St Gianna Beretta Molla by Pope St John Paul II in 2004.

St Gianna had often wondered what God wanted of her. She prayed about it and eventually decided that God wanted her to be a wife, a mother and a doctor. She applied herself unselfishly to all three.

‘A vocation is a gift from God,’ she once wrote. ‘And our concern should be to know God’s will and to walk on that path, not by forcing things, but by being patient.’ [iv]

The Berettas became holy because their family taught them how to love.

As Thomas Merton says in his book No Man is an Island, unselfish love is from where true happiness comes. The more we give it, the happier we’ll be. [v]

And where’s the best place to learn this unselfish love?

In our family.

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[i] https://aleteia.org/2024/01/17/the-extraordinary-beretta-family-a-nursery-for-holiness/

[ii] Of the unlisted children, Ferdinando became a doctor, Francesco a civil engineer, Zita a pharmacologist, and Amelia died in her 20s.

[iii] https://saintgianna.org/famoflife.htm

[iv] Blessed Gianna Beretta Molla: A Woman’s Life. Pauline Books, Boston, 2002: 71-72.

[v] Thomas Merton, No Man is an Island, Harvest Books, New York, 1955:3.

Nutcracker

(Is.9:1-7; Titus 2:11-14; Lk.2:1-14)

Every year at this time we see so many Christmas decorations, from Christmas trees to Christmas lights, nativity scenes and even Nutcracker dolls. What do they all mean?

The Nativity scenes, of course, tell the story of Jesus’ birth in a humble stable – and this, of course, is what Christmas is all about. The Christmas lights represent the angels who lit up the night sky for the shepherds (and our candy canes symbolise the shepherds’ crooks).

The stars reflect the Star of Bethlehem that guided the Wise Men from the East, (and Santa reminds us of the three gifts they gave Jesus).

And the Christmas Trees? St John Paul II said that the Christmas tree symbolises Jesus, who is always with us. The Christmas tree, he said, is the evergreen Tree of Life in the Book of Genesis (2:9). Evergreens represent undying life, and eternal life is exactly what the resurrected Jesus offers us.

Our circular wreaths represent God himself, for God has no beginning or end.

And the Nutcracker dolls? Traditionally, they remind us of Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker ballet, and the story of a young girl who gets a Nutcracker doll for Christmas. But that’s just a fairytale.

There’s a much better story that Nutcrackers point to. A true story.

Mother Julian of Norwich was born in England in 1343. She was a mystic who spent her life praying and meditating. When she was 30, she got very sick and as she slowly recovered, God gave her several visions.

One vision was of a hand holding a little hazelnut, as round as a ball. ‘What is it?’ Julian wondered, and God replied: ‘That is everything that has been made.’

She spent the next 20 years wondering what that could mean, and she wrote down her thoughts in a book called Revelations of Divine Love. It’s the oldest book ever written by a woman in English.

Julian wondered how something as small as a hazelnut could even exist, and how it doesn’t just vanish because it’s so small. Then she realised three things about it. It exists because God made it, God loves it and God looks after it.

God must have made that nut, she thought, otherwise it wouldn’t exist at all. God must also have loved it to have created it. And God must still be looking after it, because it continues to exist.

Julian then realised that this applies to all of God’s creation, because the world is full of things which have been created and sustained by God’s love.

But things don’t always stay the same, she thought, because God allows them to change. Small things like hazelnuts can grow into big trees, and even big trees eventually grow old and decay.

That’s why, Julian says, we shouldn’t look for peace and joy only from created things. We tend to put all our faith and hopes into things we can see, hear, taste and touch. But created things cannot give us true contentment when they are always changing and only partially reflect the beauty of their maker.

If you want lasting peace and joy, Julian says, you must get as close as you can to God himself, for he is always wise, always good and he never changes. He is the source of all life, and he wants us close to him.

That’s why Jesus came to us as a baby all those years ago. Baby Jesus, the Son of God, small and fragile and not much bigger than a hazelnut, came to us seeking love.

Jesus grew up and tried to teach us about life and love. Then he returned to heaven, hoping that we would follow him. And in the meantime, he left his Holy Spirit behind to support and encourage us.

Sometimes, even the smallest, most humble thing can be a window into the mystery of God. When you study it closely, you can get a wonderful sense of God’s almighty love and power.

The English poet William Blake wrote about this in his poem, Auguries of Innocence:

To see a world in a grain of sand, and a heaven in a wild flower: Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, And eternity in an hour.

Mother Julian of Norwich found God by studying a tiny hazelnut. She learnt how important it is to look beyond the surface of things, because all of creation reflects God’s love and care.

Today, we’re all invited to get close to God by loving little baby Jesus. He is our God who loves to be embraced and enjoyed.

The next time you see a Nutcracker doll or a hazelnut, remember baby Jesus.

Even the smallest things can teach us about God.

Ark of the Covenant

(Mic.5:1-4; Heb.10:5-10; Lk.1:39-44)

In the movie Raiders of the Lost Ark, Indiana Jones searches for the Ark of the Covenant in Egypt. He bravely fights off the Nazis, but in the end he loses the Ark somewhere in a huge US government warehouse.

The story is fiction, of course, but in ancient times there really was an Ark of the Covenant – a golden chest that God asked Moses to make as a sign of his covenant with Israel. It held three precious items: the Ten Commandments inscribed on stone tablets, a golden jar of manna and the priestly rod of Aaron (Heb.9:4).  

These three things represented God’s power, presence and promises to his people, and the Ark itself reflected that power. Indeed, when the priests started carrying the Ark across the Jordan River, the waters stopped flowing (Josh.3). The Ark made the walls of Jericho collapse (Josh.6), and the Philistines suffered great plagues after stealing it, so they returned it to the Israelites (1Sam.5).

For hundreds of years the Ark was kept in Solomon’s Temple in Jerusalem. Then just before the Babylonians invaded the city in 586 BC, Jeremiah hid it in a cave (2Mac.2:5). But it hasn’t been seen since. [i]

Now, it’s significant that there are many parallels between the Ark of the Covenant and Mary’s visit to her cousin Elizabeth in today’s Gospel.

The Ark was made pure and holy, and for a divine purpose: to house God’s presence. So was Mary: she was created pure and holy and for a divine purpose, to carry the Son of God.

The Ark stays for three months in the house of Obed-Edom in Judea’s hill country (2Sam.6:1-11). Mary stays for three months in Elizabeth’s house, in the same hill country (Lk.1:39).

And just as ‘the Lord blessed Obed-Edom and all his household,’ so Elizabeth calls Mary and her unborn child ‘blessed’ three times.

When the Ark is brought to King David he asks: ‘How can the Ark of the Lord come to me?’ Similarly, when Mary arrives, Elizabeth asks ‘Why should I be honoured with a visit from the mother of my Lord?’

As well, when David sees the Ark, he leaps and dances with joy. As Mary approaches, John the Baptist leaps inside Elizabeth’s womb.

And finally, the Ark goes to Jerusalem, where God’s presence and glory is revealed in the Temple (2 Sam.6:12). Mary goes to Jerusalem, too, where she presents God incarnate in the Temple (Lk.1:56; 2:21-22).

The message here is that Mary is the Ark of the New Covenant.

The early Church Fathers understood this well. St Athanasius wrote: ‘O noble Virgin… clothed with purity instead of gold! You are the ark in which is found the golden vessel containing the true manna… the flesh in which divinity resides.’ [ii]

More recently, Archbishop Fulton Sheen said that just as the Ark carried the law, the manna, and Aaron’s rod, so Mary carried Jesus Christ – the lawgiver, the bread of life, and the eternal High Priest.

And it’s significant, he said, that when Mary was carrying Jesus, she didn’t stay at home. Instead, she went out into the world to see her cousin Elizabeth, and there Jesus’ presence opened the heart of John the Baptist.

Every morning, Mother Teresa did something very similar. She went to Mass to receive the Body and Blood of Christ in the Holy Eucharist. Then, bearing Jesus, she went out to serve the sick and the poor in the streets of Calcutta.

We, too, become a blessed tabernacle – a new Ark of the Covenant – every time we receive Jesus in the Holy Eucharist. Just like Mary and Mother Teresa, we become bearers of Christ’s body, blood, soul, and divinity. And we, too, are invited to carry Jesus out into the world.

In her autobiography, Story of a Soul, St Thérèse of Lisieux often speaks about carrying God within her and being a vessel of His love and mercy. St Bernadette of Lourdes also saw herself as a humble vessel, carrying God’s divine grace into the world.

So, the next time you receive the Holy Eucharist, think about what it really means.

The Holy Eucharist unites you intimately with Jesus. It fills you with his graces, it strengthens you against sin and it helps make you holy.

Whenever you receive the Holy Eucharist, you become an Ark of the Covenant.

A dwelling place for God.

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[i] According to Ethiopian tradition, the Ark was brought to Ethiopia by the son of the Queen of Sheba. They say it’s kept in the Church of Our Lady Mary of Zion in Axum, but we cannot be sure because the public aren’t allowed to see it.

[ii] Quoted in Brant Pitre, Jesus and the Jewish Roots of Mary, Image, NY, 2018:65.

The Gigantic Secret

(Zeph.3:14-18; Phil.4:4-7; Lk.3:10-18)

When I was a boy living with my family in India, my mother said something that intrigued me.

She said, ‘You can always tell if someone’s a Christian by their eyes.’ I wondered if this was true, so I started checking the eyes of everyone I knew, including Hindus and Christians.

Since then, I’ve checked countless eyes, and today I’d say they’re not a reliable indicator of faith, because other factors may apply. However, there is some truth in my mother’s words, for our eyes can say a lot about our hearts.

If you do develop a deep, personal relationship with Jesus, you will discover an interior peace and purpose that’s simply profound. It’s like turning on a bright light inside you, and so often it shines through your eyes.

But what is that bright light? It’s joy. GK Chesterton talks about it in his book Orthodoxy. He calls joy ‘the small publicity of the pagan (and) the gigantic secret of the Christian.’ [i]

Why is it ‘small publicity’ to the pagan? Chesterton says it’s because their joys are small. Only the little things in life give them pleasure; the big things just leave them cold.

‘To the pagan,’ he says, ‘the small things are as sweet as the small brooks breaking out of the mountain; but the broad things (like the existence of God) are as bitter as the sea.’  

Christian joy, however, is different because it’s the big things (especially God himself) that give us life and a sense of purpose. And it’s a ‘gigantic secret’ because our secular world can’t see or understand this.

Our world tends to think that Christianity is far too serious and restrictive to produce anything like joy. But joy is central to our Christian identity, even when times are hard. It comes from realising just how much God loves us, despite our failings, and that he’s always with us, regardless of what happens.

We can see this joy flourishing in hard times in our readings today.

In our first reading, the prophet Zephaniah is in Jerusalem, where idolatry and corruption are rife. You might think he’d be unhappy, but he’s not. Instead, he says ‘Rejoice! Have no fear!’ because God is coming, and God has promised to renew their lives.

Similarly, in his letter St Paul tells the Thessalonians to be joyful, because God is near. Stop worrying, he says, for God loves you. And if you need anything, just ask for it, for God will give you a peace that’s beyond all understanding.

And in our Gospel, St John the Baptist is in the desert. He’s in occupied territory living an austere life, but he’s not unhappy. Instead, he joyfully announces the good news: the Messiah is coming!

We can see this joy flourishing in the lives of the saints, too. St John Bosco spent his life helping troubled boys in Turin, and although he faced many serious obstacles, his faith was so strong that he was known for his joyfulness and laughter.

St. Philip Neri lived at a time of great turmoil, and he faced great resistance in working with the poor in Rome. But he loved God so much that his spirit of joy and fun became legendary.

And more recently, Chiara Luce Badano was an ordinary Italian girl, born in 1971. She loved singing, dancing and being with friends. When she was 17, she felt a sharp pain in her shoulder. It turned out to be a cancer that spread quickly, and soon she was paralysed.

But instead of being terrified, she was filled with a supernatural joy that surprised everyone. She offered her suffering as a sacrifice to God, saying, ‘For you, Jesus. If you want it, I want it too!’

Some of her friends said, ‘We thought we’d visit Chiara to keep her spirits up. However, we soon realised that we were the ones who needed her. Her life was a magnet drawing us towards her.’

One of her doctors said, ‘Through her smile, and through her eyes full of light, she showed us that death doesn’t exist; only life exists.’

Just before she died, aged 18, Chiara said, ‘Don’t cry for me. I’m going to Jesus. At my funeral, I don’t want people crying, but singing with all their hearts.’

Chiara was beatified in 2010.’[ii]

She was called ‘Luce’ because of the bright light that constantly burned inside her. It even shined through her eyes.

This, then, is the gigantic secret: Joy isn’t about avoiding hardship or pursuing pleasure – it’s about discovering God’s presence in our lives.

When we find this joy, it’s like switching on a bright light inside us.

And if you look carefully, you might just see it shining through our eyes.

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[i] GK Chesterton, Orthodoxy, Ch.9, 1957 – https://archive.org/details/orthodoxy00chesuoft/page/240/mode/2up

[ii] https://aleteia.org/2017/11/26/meet-chiara-badano-an-average-teenager-who-loved-to-play-tennis-and-listen-to-pop-music/

The M – Z of Advent

(Bar.5:1-9; Phil.1:4-6; Lk.3:1-6)

Today is the 2^nd Sunday of Advent, and Advent, of course, occupies the first four weeks of every new liturgical year. It’s during these four weeks that we are invited to prepare ourselves well for the coming of Jesus Christ into our lives.

Today we continue exploring what Advent is all about, by focusing on the alphabet. Last week we covered the letters A to L. Today, it’s the letters M to Z.

M is for St. Martin of Tours, who is well known for sharing his cloak with a beggar who turned out to be Jesus. St Martin is a good example of the kindness and generosity we’re all called to show others during Advent.

N is for the Nativity, the birth of Jesus which is central to the Advent season. It was St. Francis of Assisi who set up the very first nativity scene in the 13th century. He did this to make the story of Christ’s birth accessible to everyone and to inspire us to reflect on God’s extraordinary humility in becoming a man.

O is for the O Antiphons, which are prayers recited during the last seven days of Advent. Each prayer begins with ‘O’ and addresses Jesus with various titles such as ‘O Wisdom’ and ‘O Emmanuel.’ These antiphons are full of biblical references, and have been used by many saints to prepare themselves for the coming of Christ. They are paraphrased in the popular Christmas carol, O Come, O Come Emmanuel.

P is for Prayer, because Advent is the ideal time for prayer and spiritual reflection. In her writings, St. Teresa of Avila tells us that contemplative prayer is a wonderful way to deepen our relationship with God.

And Mother Teresa offers us this prayer for Advent:

Mary, Mother of Jesus, be a mother to each of us, so that we, like you, may be pure in heart; that we, like you, love Jesus; that we, like you, serve the poorest, for we are all poor. Amen.

Q is for Quiet, which is what we all need for fruitful prayer and reflection. In his writings, the mystical poet St. John of the Cross teaches us that silence and solitude are essential for deepening our relationship with God.

R is for Repentance, which means changing the way we do things. This is what we all need to do in Advent to truly connect with God. The great missionary, St Francis Xavier, stressed the need for everyone to experience personal conversion and a return to God’s grace.

S is for St. John the Baptist, who dedicated his life to preparing others for the coming of Christ. He called everyone to repent, to change the way they live, and to immerse themselves in the cleansing waters of Baptism.

T is for Tradition, because Advent is rich with wonderful traditions, like buying Christmas presents, erecting Christmas trees and nativity scenes, putting up lights and decorations and planning celebrations. Advent calendars also help families count down the days until Christmas.

U is for Unity, which is what Advent seeks to foster among all Christians. St. Catherine of Siena worked tirelessly for the unity of the Church, and she encouraged believers to come together in faith and love during this holy season.

V is for Vigil, because we are all called to keep vigil, to stay watchful for Jesus’ arrival. Our vigil Masses give us a special opportunity to do this, in a spirit of communal worship and reflection. St. Benedict used to stress the importance of these gatherings in preparing us for the coming of Christ.

W is for Waiting, which is what we all do in Advent. We’re waiting for Jesus to come into our lives. St. Anne, the mother of Mary, is a good example of someone who waited in hope and faith. Her story encourages us to be patient, and to trust in God’s timing.

X is for Xmas, which is shorthand for Christmas. Many people think this is just a secular abbreviation, but the ‘X’ comes from the Greek letter Chi, which is the first letter of the Greek word Christós. So, the X literally means Jesus, and in Advent this is who we are preparing ourselves to meet.

Y is for Yearning, which is something we all do. We all yearn for peace, joy and love; we all long for a sense of meaning and purpose in our lives. In her writings, St. Teresa of Avila expresses this longing and tells us to seek a closer relationship with God, for he is the source of all peace, joy and love.

And finally,

Z is for Zeal, which is the enthusiasm we all need to prepare ourselves well for Christmas. One saint who had plenty of zeal was St. Paul. He worked hard spreading the Gospel and encouraging people to prepare themselves for the coming of Jesus Christ.

May we all do the same.

The ABC of Advent

(Jer.33:14-16; Thess.3:12-4:2; Lk.21:25-28, 34-36)

Today we begin a brand-new liturgical Year C, the Year of the Gospel of Luke, and once again it starts with Advent. Let’s now explore what the season of Advent is all about, using the letters A to L of the alphabet. (Next week we’ll cover M to Z).

A is for Advent, the liturgical season that begins every Church year. The word ‘Advent’ comes from the Latin adventus, meaning ‘coming,’ and it typically lasts for four weeks before Christmas. It’s a time of preparing, anticipating and reflecting on the threefold coming of Christ: his birth in Bethlehem at Christmas, his Second Coming at the end of all time, and in between, when he comes to us in our day-to-day lives.

B is for the Blessed Virgin Mary, who is central to Advent. She is the simple Jewish girl who humbly and courageously accepted God’s invitation to become the Mother of Jesus. In Advent, we too are invited to help bring Jesus into the world.

C is for the Candles in our Advent wreath. There are five of them, all symbolising the light of Christ, and one is lit each week. The first (purple) candle signifies our hope for the Messiah’s coming. The second (purple) candle reflects the peace that only Christ can bring. The third (pink) candle represents our joy in knowing that Jesus is coming. The fourth (purple) candle symbolises the love God has for us. And the final (white) candle, which is lit on Christmas Day, represents Jesus himself.

D is for the Decision we must all make to find and follow Jesus, and the Determination we need to keep doing so faithfully.

E is for Expectation, because Advent is a time of joyful expectation. In his writings, St. Bernard of Clairvaux encourages us to prepare our hearts for the coming of Christ in a spirit of anticipation and longing, just as the ancient Israelites waited for the Messiah all those years ago.

But E is also for Eternity, because we know the earth is not our final home, and it’s important that we prepare ourselves for our real home in heaven.

F is for Faith, because Advent is a good time to strengthen our faith through prayer, reflection and community. Here, St. Therese of Lisieux teaches us that faith can be both simple and profound. In her ‘Little Way,’ she encourages us to always be loving towards each other, even in tiny little ways, and to always trust in God’s love and mercy.

G is for St. Gregory the Great, who was an important figure in the early Church. He emphasised the importance of the liturgical seasons, including Advent. His teachings on preparation and prayer remind us to engage deeply with the spiritual practices of the season.

H is for Hope, which is a central theme of Advent, for it reflects our waiting for Christ’s coming. In his writings, St. Augustine calls hope a theological virtue, and he encourages us to always trust in God’s promises, especially in times of uncertainty and waiting.

I is for the Incarnation, the mystery of God becoming man in Jesus. This is fundamental to Advent, because Christmas is all about God becoming one of us. St. Athanasius often talked about this mystery, and emphasised how important it is for our salvation.

J is for Jesus, who is the Son of God and the very heart of Advent. He is the source of all life and the One we all yearn for, even when we don’t know it.

But J is also for Joy, which Jesus brings and which we celebrate on Gaudete Sunday, the third Sunday of Advent. It gives us joy to know that Jesus is coming to save us. St. Francis of Assisi was filled with this joy, and he spent his life spreading the Gospel and celebrating God’s creation.

K is for Kindness, which is a reflection of Christ’s love. St. Vincent de Paul modelled this kindness by spending his life serving the poor and marginalised. As Christmas approaches, we all need to be just as kind. Why?

It’s because L is for Love, which is exactly what Advent is all about. God loves each of us unconditionally, and that’s why Jesus came to live among us. He wants to tell us personally how much he loves us.

And that’s why he is coming again.

Advent, then, is the perfect time for us to reflect on our own lives: are we as kind, loving and forgiving as we need to be? Are we ready to receive Jesus when he comes?

It’s only by living lives of love that we will truly be prepared to receive Jesus, who is love itself.

(Next week we will explore Advent through the letters M – Z.)

The Pearl of York

(Dan.7:13-14; Rev.1:5-8; Jn.18:33b-37)

On the last Sunday of each liturgical year, we celebrate the Feast of Christ the King. This is the day we’re reminded that Jesus Christ is our ultimate leader, for he reigns over heaven and earth with immense wisdom and the most selfless love.

Jesus’ kingship is totally different to the rule of so many earthly leaders, who too often are cruel and only interested in themselves. Take Henry VIII, for example. He was desperate for money and a divorce from Catherine of Aragon. He grabbed these things by ruthlessly trying to destroy the Catholic Church and installing himself as head of the Church of England.

Twenty years later, in 1556 and during the reign of Henry’s daughter Queen Elizabeth I, Margaret Middleton was born in the City of York. She grew to detest the persecution of Catholics and the laws enforcing attendance at Anglican church services.

When she was 18, Margaret married John Clitherow, a wealthy butcher twice her age, and together they ran his shop. Three years later, and with her husband’s blessing, she secretly became a Catholic.

Margaret raised their children as Catholics, and often sheltered priests in their home. She encouraged them to say Mass there, and later she sent her first child, Henry, to the Catholic college at Douai in France.

But people started to ask questions, and in 1577 she was gaoled for almost a year for refusing to attend Anglican services. While in prison, she gave birth to her third child and she taught herself to read and write, so that she could teach her children the faith.

Margaret was often in trouble, but her husband always paid her fines. And then in 1586, the sheriff and his men raided their home and found children being taught the Catholic faith. They threatened one boy with torture, forcing him to reveal the location of the secret ‘priest-hole,’ and again Margaret was arrested.

This time she knew the penalty was death, but she wanted to protect her family, so she refused to plead her guilt or innocence. ‘No, no, Mr. Sheriff, I die for the love of my Lord Jesu,’ she said. ‘I know of no offense whereof I should confess myself guilty. Having made no offense, I need no trial.’

But four days later, she was formally charged with having sheltered priests and attending Mass. Once again she refused to enter a plea, and when she was sentenced to death, she exclaimed, ‘God be thanked, I am not worthy of so good a death as this.’

After sentencing, she had her shoes sent to her daughter Anne as a reminder to follow in her faithful footsteps.

On Good Friday in 1586, Margaret was stripped naked and a handkerchief was tied over her face. Like Jesus on the Cross, her arms were stretched out wide and tied to stakes, and her own door was placed on top of her. Her executioners then crushed her with some 700 pounds of rocks.

‘Jesu! Jesu! Jesu! Have mercy on me!’ she cried out.

Fifteen minutes later Margaret Clitherow was dead. She was only 33 years old, and pregnant with her fourth child. She was buried near a dunghill, and today her right hand is preserved at St. Mary’s Convent in York.

Every martyrdom has its fruits.

Margaret would have been pleased to learn that her children Henry and William became priests, and Anne became a nun. And she would have been humbled to discover that in 1970, Pope St Paul VI canonised her among the Forty Martyrs of England and Wales.

Today, St Margaret Clitherow is the patron saint of converts, martyrs and the Catholic Women’s League.

If ever you visit that oddly-shaped street known as The Shambles in York, go to number 35. On the wall outside is a green plaque which reads, ‘The Shrine of St Margaret Clitherow.’ This was her home, and today it serves as a chapel. The priest-hole is still there, near the fireplace.

The English poet-priest Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-89) was deeply moved by Margaret’s story, and wrote a poem about her. In it, he condemns the deceitful authorities who tried to talk her out of her faith:

‘Fawning fawning crocodiles
Days and days came round about
With tears to put her candle out;
They wound their winch of wicked smiles
To take her; while their tongues would go
God lighten your dark heart – but no,
Christ lived in Margaret Clitheroe.’ [i]

St Margaret’s faith in Jesus Christ was unbreakable, even in the face of the most brutal persecution. That’s why today she is known as ‘The Pearl of York.’

May she inspire us all.

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[i] https://catholicism.org/the-poets-eye-gerard-manley-hopkins-margaret-clitheroe.html

Last Will and Testament

(Dan.12:1-3; Heb.10:11-14; Mk.13:24-32)

When they realise that their days are numbered, most people like to ensure that their affairs are in order. This usually includes preparing a last will and testament.

It makes life so much easier for those they leave behind.

William Shakespeare did this. He left most of his property to his daughters, and to his wife he surprisingly left his second-best bed. [i]

In the Scriptures, too, several important figures gather their family or followers together in their last days, to give them their final testaments.

Jacob, for example, calls his twelve sons together to give each a blessing, and then he announces that Judah will next be ruling the family (Gen.49:1-28). In Deuteronomy 31-32, Moses knows he’s dying. He gathers the Israelites together, he sings God’s praises and encourages them all to stand firm in the faith, and he announces that Joshua will succeed him.

And in Mark’s Gospel today, Jesus knows his days are numbered. So, he calls his disciples together to give them one last teaching on what is to come.

Jesus warns them (and us) that the world as we know it will not last. But before it ends, there will be a period of terror, persecution and great distress. People will be betrayed, and there will be wars, earthquakes and famines. (See also Mt.24, Lk.21). The prophet Daniel describes some of this in our first reading today.

In these end-times, there will be cosmic upheavals, too – the sun will be darkened, the moon will fade, and stars will fall from the sky.

All this sounds quite frightening, but Jesus then adds a note of hope by promising to return, like a good shepherd, to gather the elect into one community, who will then live in peace. This parousia, Christ’s second coming, will mark the beginning of ‘a new heaven and a new earth’ (Rev.21:1), and the fulfilment of God’s plans for us.

But who are the elect? They are Jesus’ disciples, scattered across the globe. They are the people of God who lived their lives in faith, hope and love, and who tried to nurture some peace, justice and beauty in the world.

And when might all this happen? Jesus says that not even he knows, so don’t waste time trying to predict it. However, it’s important that we prepare ourselves.

How? By reading the signs. By learning to distinguish between what is of God and therefore essential, and what is merely fashionable and worldly. Some of these signs will be obvious, while others will be more subtle, like the sprouting leaves of a fig tree.

By mentioning the fig tree, Jesus is alluding to his famous parable in which a barren tree is given a second chance to bear fruit (Lk.13:6-9). Here, he’s making the point that we, too, need to be fruitful, for God is on his way. Are our hearts full of love, and are we truly ready to receive him?

Our challenge is not to predict the end of the world, but to start getting our lives in order. And in doing this, we need to remember that God knows us better than we know ourselves (Lk.12:7), so there’s no point trying to pretend. We must try to follow the Gospel, and live as though these days are our last.

Jesus’ last testament does not read like a legal document; it sounds more like apocalyptic poetry. But the things he is saying are no less important: you cannot put your faith in the powers of this world to give you the peace and security you need for the future. The world is going to end one day, and it’s important that we prepare ourselves.

Not long before my dear mother died, she gave me a little envelope with a handwritten note inside. It was a personal and loving farewell that included a little card, on which she had written out the beautiful little prayer known as ‘St Teresa’s Bookmark.’

St Teresa of Avila always kept this with her in her prayer book. It was found after her death in 1582.

These are good words to remember as we try to get our lives in order:

Let nothing disturb you,
Let nothing frighten you
All things are passing,
God never changes.
Patience obtains all things,
All that it strives for.
He who has God
Finds he lacks nothing.
God alone suffices.

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[i] https://www.shakespeare.org.uk/explore-shakespeare/shakespedia/william-shakespeare/second-best-bed/

A Generous Heart

(1 Kgs.17:10-16; Heb.9:24-28; Mk.12:38-44)

All over Italy, there’s a well-loved tradition known as La Passeggiata.

At certain hours after work and on weekends, people of all ages go out for a casual stroll around their local area. This is a great time for people-watching, so they tend to dress up – fare bella figura. It’s also an important time for talking, laughing and building community.

But sometimes, if you look, you’ll see un uomo che si pavoneggia – a well-dressed man strutting about like a peacock. He’s not much interested in building community; he’s trying to draw attention to himself.

There are people like this in every society.

They’re even in Mark’s Gospel today, and Jesus warns us about them. They’re the Temple scribes, who love to strut about in fine clothes, parading their wealth and importance. They like being seen and admired for their success.

But Mark then contrasts this life of pride and selfishness with the story of a poor widow. She quietly donates two tiny copper coins to the Temple, a sum that’s barely enough to buy two sparrows (Mt.10:29).

It’s not much, but Jesus says her gift is the greatest of all because she’s given all she had. This is a real sacrifice, compared to the wealthy who only give from their abundance.

This widow’s tale is the final story from Jesus’ public ministry in Mark’s Gospel, before he begins his passion. It’s significant, because it summarises what Jesus has been trying to teach us about discipleship.

This widow represents Christ himself, because soon afterwards Jesus does the same thing. He gives up everything has – even his life – for the people he loves: you and me.

This widow is an icon of Christ, a living image of Jesus himself. And her two coins represent his two greatest commandments: to love God and to love each other, with all our hearts, souls and minds. This is the challenge Jesus has set for all of us.

But can we do that? Can we let go of our worldly attachments, and turn our hearts, souls and minds towards God and our neighbours?

Someone once said that if we want God’s kingdom to come, then we need to let go of our own personal kingdoms.  

Let me tell you of three people who did just that.

The first is Dolores Hart, an aspiring Hollywood actress who was raised by her grandparents. Her grandfather, a film projectionist, had spurred her love for the movies. In the 1950s, she found herself acting with several famous stars, including Elvis Presley (in Loving You and King Creole).

In 1961, she was a nun in Francis of Assisi, and in 1962 she starred in Lisa, as a Jewish woman who has a spiritual awakening during WWII. This started her thinking, and soon afterwards she gave it all away to become a nun.

Since then, she has dedicated her life to prayer and service, and helping young people to find their vocation in Christ through the medium of the theatre.

The second is Kevin Fagan, an Australian doctor who became a prisoner-of-war at the fall of Singapore in 1942. He was imprisoned first at Changi, and then on the infamous Thai-Burma Railway. His selflessness, courage and endurance became legendary.

To the best of his ability, and in the most appalling conditions, he treated anyone who needed help. He carried men who fell, and he carried the kit of those in danger of falling.

He marched up and down the length of the column as it moved – meaning that if everyone else marched 100 miles in the jungle, he marched 200. And at night when everyone collapsed and slept, he was there to clean ulcers, set bones and give first aid to anyone in need. But his biggest challenge was controlling a severe epidemic of cholera among the men.

And he did all this with the humour of someone who wasn’t tired at all. [i]

The third person is Laura, a simple woman who has served for years as the sacristan at a local parish church. She is only a pensioner, but for years she has given all she can to ensure that her local church has everything it needs for daily Mass – including flowers, altar wine, breads and freshly starched altar linens. She has dedicated her life to this work.

Laura has a generous heart, just like the poor widow in today’s Gospel. She has no interest in preening her appearance or drawing attention to herself. She simply wants to help Jesus.

What can you do that would make a difference?

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[i] Braddon, Russell, The Naked Island, Atheneum Books, NY, 1982.

The Golden Rule

(Deut.6:2-6; Heb.7:23-28; Mk.12:28-34)

With so much violence and war around our world today, it’s worth remembering that the call to love our neighbour is actually universal.

They express it differently, but all the major religions – Christianity, Islam, Hinduism and Judaism – share the same Golden Rule to love your neighbour.[i]

It’s there again in today’s Gospel, where Jesus spells out his two greatest commandments. The first, he says, is to love our Lord God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength. And the second is to love your neighbour as yourself.

‘There’s no greater commandment than these,’ he says.

With these few words, Jesus has summarised the entire Bible and the essence of the Christian life. But why does he mention two commandments instead of one? It’s because loving God and loving our neighbour are two sides of the same life-giving coin (1Jn.4:7-8).

St Basil the Great used to say that we can only love our fellow human beings because we love God first. If we don’t love God, he said, we will never be open to enemies and strangers. And the only way we can fully express our love for God is by loving our neighbour who he created in his own image and likeness.

This is Jesus’ Great Commandment, which is also often called the Golden Rule because it sets the gold standard for how to live our lives. St James called it the Royal Law (Jas.2:8) because Jesus is our king, and love is the first law of his kingdom.

But whatever its name, the call to love our neighbour remains universal. And yet, so many people seem to ignore it these days. Perhaps they don’t know who their neighbours are, or they simply don’t know how to love. 

When he was the Archbishop of Milan, Pope St Paul VI spelt out the neighbours we should love. He said, ‘Let us love those nearby and those afar; love our own country and those others; love our friends and enemies; love Catholics, schismatics, Protestants, Anglicans, the indifferent; love Moslems, pagans, atheists; love members of all social classes, particularly those in most need of help and support; love children; love the old, the poor and the sick; love those who deride or despise us, obstruct or persecute us; love those who deserve love and those who do not; love our adversaries – we want no man as our enemy …’

‘Let us love and try to understand, esteem, appreciate, serve and suffer for (them),’ he continued. ‘Let us love (them) with the heart of Christ.’ [ii]

And how might we love with the heart of Christ? St Thérèse of Lisieux tells us in her autobiography, The Story of a Soul.

She found one nun in her convent particularly irritating. ‘The devil was mixed up in it,’ she wrote, ‘for he made me see so many disagreeable traits in her.’

St Therese of Lisieux

However, Therese did not want to give in to her natural dislike for this nun, so she told herself that charity isn’t just about feelings, but should also show itself in deeds.

She decided to do for this sister what she would have done for someone she loved.

Every time Thérèse met her, she prayed for this sister and she praised God for all her virtues and merits. She was sure this would delight Jesus, because every artist likes to have his works praised.  

As well, Thérèse tried to do as many things for her as she could, and whenever she was tempted to speak unpleasantly to her, she gave her a pleasant smile and tried to change the subject.

And when she found herself violently tempted by the devil, she slipped away quietly, like a soldier deserting the battlefield.

After all this, one day that sister asked Thérèse: ‘Please tell me what attracts you so much to me. You give me such a lovely smile whenever we meet.’

Thérèse answers this question in her book: ‘It was Jesus hidden in the depth of her soul who attracted me, for Jesus makes the bitterest things sweet!’ [iii]

And that’s the point. That’s why Jesus has given us his Golden Rule in two parts: that we must love both God and our neighbour.

As St Basil the Great said all those years ago – we cannot truly love God without also loving his Creation, which includes all our neighbours.

And we really cannot love our neighbours until we start recognising Jesus’ presence within them.

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[i] In Islam, the Qur’an says, ‘Serve Allah… do good to your parents, to kinsfolk, to orphans, to the needy, to neighbours who are near and far, to the companion by your side, to the wayfarer… (Qur’an 4:36).

The Hindu tradition says, ‘This is the sum of duty. Do not unto others that which would cause you pain if done to you’ (Mahabharata 5,1517).

In Judaism, it’s ‘Love your neighbour as yourself – I am the Lord (Lev.19:18).

[ii] Cardinal Montini, quoted in Robert Morneau, A New Heart, Orbis Books, Maryknoll, NY, 1970:37.

[iii] St Thérèse of Lisieux, The Story of a Soul, https://lci-goroka.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/11/saint-therese-of-lisieux-story-of-a-soul-the-autobiography.pdf