CHANGE OF PLANS

In the gospel for Sunday, August 30, we see Jesus and his disciples on their way up to Jerusalem. The apostles are expecting that the journey will end with Jesus, the Messiah, being anointed as king.  

But Jesus did not come to fulfill human expectations or achieve worldly triumph.

"Get thee behind me, Satan!"

And He reveals what is actually going to happen to Him in Jerusalem. So Peter’s demand that Jesus avoid going up there to undergo such an unexpected and terrible fate is an obstacle on the way to the cross, the cross that Jesus knows He must accept. So Jesus turns and tells the disciples that they must let go of their dreams of Messianic grandeur, deny their ambitions, and prepare instead to carry their crosses. They must be willing, in fact, to give their very lives for his sake! 

They must exchange their own wills for the Father’s will just as He Himself will do in the garden of Gethsemane, and as He had taught them to pray “thy will be done.”

Paul will one day write to the Romans “offer your bodies as a living sacrifice,“ in imitation of Jesus, who was following God‘s will.
This is what Jesus continues to call his disciples to do today.

It seems that He had a pretty good idea of His Father’s will for Him. But you and I have to rely on the Holy Spirit to help us discern what is “good and pleasing to God.” (Romans, 12:1).
One good way to start our discernment might be to meditate on what happens to the apostles on the way to Jerusalem and notice how they have to begin to let go of their own plans and their own vision of the future in order to follow Jesus completely. So we ask ourselves what we may need to sacrifice in order to follow Jesus and “to do what is good and pleasing to God?”

I believe it was C.S. Lewis who once wrote something like, “If you want to see God laugh, tell him your plans.“

Because discernment is not an easy task, the Lord sends us the gift of the Spirit. The Spirit of Wisdom. Actually, I doubt that Jesus laughs at us. I picture him smiling gently as he watches us as we try to let go of our dearest hopes and plans so we can take up our cross and walk with him up to Calvary. He knows very well, of course, that once we share with Him the temporary suffering of Good Friday, we will go on to share with Him the eternal Victory of Easter in heaven.

IT'S IN YOUR HANDS

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The Gospel for this Sunday is Mt 14:13-21, Matthew's  account of the miracle of the loaves and fishes . It begins this way:

When it was evening, the disciples approached him and said, “This is a deserted place and it is already late; dismiss the crowds so that they can go to the villages and buy food for themselves.” Jesus said to them, “There is no need for them to go away; give them some food yourselves.” But they said to him, “Five loaves and two fish are all we have here.” Then he said, “Bring them here to me,” and he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, and looking up to heaven, he said the blessing, broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, who in turn gave them to the crowds.

It's in Your Hands...

Meditate for a few minutes on the word in bold type above, Jesus' command to his disciples, "give them some food yourselves.” Of course, Jesus must certainly know that they don't have any food with them. So what's behind this strange request? In the context of the story, it turns out to be a challenge. a sort of prophecy of what they'll be doing for the rest of their lives as apostles, namely sharing with others out of their own nothingness, the Good News of the Kingdom. They have no training, no particular aptitude for the task, and yet they are sent out to give to the world the priceless treasure of the Good News.

In troubled times when you and I afraid that we’re at the end of our strength and can’t do any more, the Lord asks us to give Him the little that we have; he then blesses it and gives it right back to us to use, especially to use for helping others. 

With the arrival of the new freshmen and the start of a new school year this past week, I couldn't help thinking back to the summer of 1973, when we re-opened St. Benedict's Prep with incredibly thin resources on every front. The best we could do was to place our dream in God's hands, trusting that we were doing what He as calling us to do, that we were hearing Jesus say, "give them some food yourselves.”

May this miracle story give us the courage to hand our weaknesses and faults to Jesus with the expectation of getting them back transformed!

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COMPETING VOICES

This Sunday is called "Good Shepherd Sunday" because all the readings present the figure of Jesus as the Good Shepherd. 

In order to understand the few gospel verses given below, let
me offer a little bit of background.

 At the time of Jesus, shepherds would bring their flocks in the evening into a common corral or “sheepfold.“ This was constructed of stone walls and one opening. This opening would either be equipped with a gate or a shepherd would lie down across the opening at night. In the morning each shepherd would come to get his flock. He would stand at the opening and call his sheep, even by name. They would recognize the sound of his voice and come to follow him out to pasture. The other sheep in the sheepfold would not follow because they didn’t recognize that shepherd‘s voice.

Here are some verses from today’s gospel:

The gatekeeper opens the gate for the shepherd. “The keeper opens it for him, and the sheep hear his voice, as the shepherd calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has driven out all his own, he walks ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they recognize his voice. But they will not follow a stranger; they will run away from him because they do not recognize the voice of strangers. (Jn 10: )

This image is about listening to the right voice and ignoring any other voices. Remember that Jesus calls himself the “Good Shepherd,“ in contrast to the “Bad Shepherds“ that the Jews had experienced. 

LISTEN TO THE RIGHT VOICE

There are bad shepherds calling to us all the time, promising pleasure, wealth, power, prestige, and so on. Jesus warns us not to listen to those voices, because they lead us not to good pastures but to danger and unhappiness.

The oration in the old breviary for this Sunday we have This phrase: “Lord, give us minds open to hearing your voice.“

What is the voice of the good Shepherd asking of you today? What does it mean for you to follow him? The answer is different for each of us, but we know that it will mean following our Savior with a life of meekness, generosity, humility, and self-sacrificing love. Our Good Shepherd warns us, though, about those other voices that call to us and that seem to offer much more pleasant alternatives than the one that Jesus offers.

This Sunday offers a great opportunity for us to pray to our Good Shepherd, asking for the gift of a listening heart to hear his voice, and a strong will so that we can follow it faithfully.

While you're at it, how about praying for all those whom Christ is calling to the priesthood or the religious life?

Jesus, our Shepherd, help us to listen to your voice!

ACCEPTANCE LETTER

This past Thursday evening, our prep school hosted a reception for all eighth-graders who had received acceptance letters from us for next year‘s freshman class. They were not registered yet, rather the reception was to help students and their parents who may not be sure of what they were getting into by signing up for our school. We make certain unusual demands on our students (a 53 mile hike in the mountains, jumping off a 7 foot platform into our pool fully clothed wearing a blindfold, a strong emphasis on students running the school, etc.)

The next morning, Friday, I celebrated mass for the Benedictine sisters in Elizabeth. The gospel was Mark’s version of the call of the twelve apostles. It struck me that Jesus's calling the apostles was an invitation to each of them, very like the acceptance letters that we had sent out to those eighth graders. Jesus’s “call” still required a response on the part of the apostles. 

It’s not enough for an eighth grader to run around waving his acceptance letter and feeling great about being accepted to Saint Benedict‘s Prep. The crucial step has yet to be taken: to act on the invitation he has received by calling the Admissions Office to register.

It must have been similar for those twelve apostles. They needed to respond to Jesus’s invitation to follow him and to go forth to preach the kingdom and to cast out demons.

Each of us has been called through our baptism. But that call requires a response on our part.

Like the apostles, we are sent to preach the kingdom by our lives, and even to cast out the presence and power of evil in our own lives and in the lives of people around us.

I picture myself standing with Jesus on that mountain side as he calls me by name. He calls me because he has a job for me to do. He is sending me into the world to be his ongoing presence, to shed light where there is darkness, and to bring joy where there is sadness. 

However, Jesus’s call is not really the point. What matters is my response. I pray that I will be able to act as he expects me to.

Over the next few days, our school’s Admissions Office will be processing all those registration forms received from kids who want to be students here next year. 

There will be others who received the same acceptance letter but have decided not to register, but to go to a different school instead.

This seems to be a good image for me to keep in mind. Our  Savior’s call requires me to respond by living and acting the way he expects. I can’t decide to go in some other direction instead!

And so I pray to those first apostles, who responded to His call.  May they help me respond to that same call that now sends me out into the world to preach the Kingdom and to be his presence for those around me.

KEEP CONVERTING!

 

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The Gospel passage at mass today (Jan.17, 2026) tells the story of St. Matthew's conversion. It reminded me of a post from a few years ago, which I offer below.

As Jesus passed by,

he saw a man named Matthew sitting at the customs post.

He said to him, "Follow me."

And he got up and followed him. (Mt 9:9)

Matthew's response is an extreme example of someone following the invitation that Jesus extends to each one of us:

“If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother,

wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life,
he cannot be my disciple.
Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me
cannot be my disciple.....
anyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions
cannot be my disciple.” (Lk 14:26, 27, 33)

The last verse interesting, especially the verb that's translated here as "renounce." In Greek, the word apotassomai means "to say farewell, to take leave of." In an earlier chapter of Luke, Jesus invites a man to follow him, and the fellow responds, "Let me go first and say good-bye to (apotassomai) my father." But in the above passage, the word is used in the extended sense of "to part with possessions."

This morning I asked myself, "What are the things that I need to say good-bye to in order to follow Jesus?" Each of us has his or her unique list, obviously, that may include worrying, trying to control other people, being preoccupied about material goods or money, and so on. The verb apotassomai  gave me pause: "unless you say good-bye to whatever you have..."  Okay, so let's say that I decide to give up my habit of trying to control everything, so that I can follow Christ. Let's say, further, that my resolution works and that I find myself walking across the wilderness with Jesus as a faithful follower. Then, I imagined the following scene this morning: As I'm following Jesus, I glance behind me and I see a little cloud of dust on the horizon, but I don't think anything of it. Ten minutes later, though, I look again and the cloud has gotten much bigger, and much closer. Clearly it's being caused by something travelling across the dusty wilderness -- something that's following us. I begin to wonder what it could be. The next time I look over my shoulder, I can make out what it is that's following us: it's my need to control all the people around me! The very thing that I left behind in order to walk with Jesus. The very thing that I "said goodbye to" not so long ago.

The problem is twofold: First, that although I had said good-bye to the habit, the habit hadn't said goodbye to me, and second, that I thought I was doing this all on my own, like spiritual a do-it-yourself project. Both of these are bad mistakes. Think of this image: You say goodbye to someone who you've come to realize is a bad influence on you; you leave them with a sigh of relief, not intending to see them ever again. But shortly thereafter, this person comes ringing your doorbell or starts texting you, clearly thinking that they're still part of your life. How frustrating! And you thought you were rid of this problem person! It seems that "saying goodbye" is not always enough to finish the job of separating from that other.

So, I've "said goodbye" to some practice or habit that could hold me back from following Jesus more closely. I think of Matthew having to constantly give up his former life as a tax-collector. My "conversion" project is not as dramatic as Matthews's was. But I bet that he was a lot like me in this: one goodbye wasn't enough: I need to keep repeating the same goodbye every day, I need to be converted not just once but constantly.


Clearly this can get frustrating and tiring -- which is why Jesus tells me to keep walking close to him: After all, this isn't my project as much as it is His.

I pray to St. Matthew for the gift of humility so that I can keep admitting that I depend on the Lord's help to keep converting every day of my life. I hope that I'll be able to accept his help and hear his words, "Do not be afraid. I am with you!"

PHARISEES' FAULT

The gospel for Saturday, August 23, 2025 shows a confrontation between Jesus and the

Pharisees. By the time the gospel of Matthew was being written down, certain members of the Pharisee party had launched a full-fledged persecution of Christians. So it’s not surprising that the gospel writer portrays them in the worst possible light. While we have to avoid going overboard in our condemnation of the Pharisees, most of whom were sincere and observant Jews, we can nevertheless learn something from the mistakes of some of them.

The great Protestant theologian Paul Tillich defines religion as “the dimension of depth in reality.“ We humans are by nature symbol making creatures. Whatever dimension of depth we experience, we usually try to express it in various symbolic forms in story, poetry, music, ritual and other kinds of metaphorical language.

In my opinion, the Pharisees put such an emphasis on those outward forms (the observance of strict laws and customs, for example) that they lost the whole idea of “the dimension of depth in life”. It’s as if they put down a floor that prevented them from going deep into the transcendent Mystery of the Divine, the sacred mystery of who we are in God’s eyes. All they had left was the externals, without the ultimate Meaning that these were meant to point to and to celebrate. The gospel today lists some of those externals.

This God of the Pharisees was quite knowable and indeed quite under their control. All one had to do was obey all the laws and perform the rituals correctly and you kept God at bay. I once heard a super-religious person described this way: “He had God in his pocket.”

What a terrible loss! To have a God who is so small and weak that he fits in your pocket! 

But before we get too smug, we should notice that  the gospel writer ends this passage with a warning his fellow Christians to beware of falling into the same trap:

As for you, do not be called 'Rabbi.' You have but one teacher, and you are all brothers. Call no one on earth your father; you have but one Father in heaven. Do not be called 'Master'; you have but one master, the Christ. The greatest among you must be your servant. Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, but whoever humbles himself will be exalted."

We are warned: we may be very observant practicing Christians, but observances and religious practices will not get us into heaven any more than they did for those Pharisees.

CASTING THE LORD'S NET

APOLOGIES. A week ago our IT department replaced my laptop, but in the process I lost access to my blog. I had already written my post in Google.docs but was unable to post it. So now that all is well again I'm presenting at last the week-old post, Sorry about that! 

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Two main trains of thought have been coming together in my mind over the past few days.

First, on Friday (Feb.7) I attended the funeral of Father James O’Donnell,O.S.B. who was 95 years old. This ceremony was a time for me to reflect on my own death, even though I am only 82. The beautiful homily ended with that lovely Bible verse “Well done, good and faithful servant.“

I did not have long to reflect on the implications of the funeral before the secondmain thought intruded. This time it came from the first reading for today’s (Sunday Feb 9) mass. It ends with the prophet Isaiah saying to the Lord, “Here I am, send me!“ And then the gospel told of Jesus choosing his first apostles and assuring them that they will become “fishers of men.“

Suddenly, my meditations shifted from “Well done, good and faithful servant” to “Here I am, send me.”

Maybe the two verses combine best into this thought of mine: "I believe that the morning the Lord no longer needs me to be his apostle I will wake up dead."

It is actually pretty easy for me to see what the Lord is asking of me right now, how he is expecting me to catch others in the net of his divine love. I live in a community of fourteen monks and spend time every day with the children of our school community (grades K-12). So my question becomes “How does the Lord need me to bear witness to him in these different communities?”  Then this question quickly expands to include my wider community of friends and family. 

I’m called to “catch” all of these and others in the “net” of God’s all-embracing love by my words and actions and attitudes.  

At some point the Lord is going to say to me, I trust, “Well done, good and faithful servant.“ Then I will begin a new phase of my life, during which I will continue in heaven to pray for all of my brother monks, friends and family who will be counting on my intercession.

But until that day, I hope to continue casting my net like a good apostle.

AN UNLIKELY GROUP

This past week we Americans have been following the news of President Trump’s selecting members for his cabinet. Also during this week NFL football fans have been following the news of several football teams choosing new coaches and new general managers.

So it seemed very appropriate that this past Friday’s gospel at mass presented Jesus’ choosing his twelve apostles.

Father Edwin, our school’s Headmaster, gave an interesting reflection to our students about Jesus choosing the apostles. Fr. Ed posed this question: How many people did Jesus have to ask before he found twelve who would accept his invitation? Maybe there were a lot of people who Jesus asked, but who found excuses for not following him.

What is interesting is that the twelve that Jesus wound up with are hardly a model group. There was Peter who would three times deny that he even knew Jesus. There were James and his brother John whom Jesus nicknamed “Boanerges,” or “Sons of Thunder” — in other words, “ Bigmouths.” There was Thomas who was constantly doubting everything, and then that unlikely pair: Matthew (who collected taxes for the Romans), and Judas  (a militant “Zealot” who wanted to expel the Romans by force). And finally, let’s not forget Judas Iscariot, who would betray his Master for a few pieces of silver.

There is no record of Jesus’ having done any job interviews or background checks when he was choosing this group on whom He would depend to spread his Gospel of love to the world.

This is good news here for us today: The same Jesus who selected those unlikely first apostles has chosen you and me as well. We are to carry on their mission of announcing the Good News of the Kingdom. We do this less dramatically, of course, simply by living lives of Christ-like love.

No matter what our shortcomings, then, they can’t be any worse than those of the first apostles. The Lord can work with our shortcomings as well, and may even be able to use them to help spread the Gospel. Why not?

So there are no excuses. We are each called personally by Jesus to be apostles, and sent to be preachers of the Word.

MATTHEW KEEPS LEAVING HIS POST

 

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Today the Church in invites us to celebrate the faith of Saint Matthew. You know the story of how he was converted from a sinner to a disciple in the blink of an eye:

As Jesus passed by,

he saw a man named Matthew sitting at the customs post.

He said to him, "Follow me."

And he got up and followed him. (Mt 9:9)

Matthew's response is an extreme example of someone following the invitation that Jesus extends to each one of us:

“If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother,

wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life,
he cannot be my disciple.
Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me
cannot be my disciple.....
anyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions
cannot be my disciple.” (Lk 14:26, 27, 33)

The last verse interesting, especially the verb that's translated here as "renounce." In Greek, the word apotassomai means "to say farewell, to take leave of." In an earlier chapter of Luke, Jesus invites a man to follow him, and the fellow responds, "Let me go first and say good-bye to (apotassomai) my father." But in the above passage, the word is used in the extended sense of "to part with possessions."

This morning I asked myself, "What are the things that I need to say good-bye to in order to follow Jesus?" Each of us has his or her unique list, obviously, that may include worrying, trying to control other people, being preoccupied about material goods or money, and so on. The verb apotassomai  gave me pause: "unless you say good-bye to whatever you have..."  Okay, so let's say that I decide to give up my habit of trying to control everything, so that I can follow Christ. Let's say, further, that my resolution works and that I find myself walking across the wilderness with Jesus as a faithful follower. Then, I imagined the following scene this morning: As I'm following Jesus, I glance behind me and I see a little cloud of dust on the horizon, but I don't think anything of it. Ten minutes later, though, I look again and the cloud has gotten much bigger, and much closer. Clearly it's being caused by something travelling across the dusty wilderness -- something that's following us. I begin to wonder what it could be. The next time I look over my shoulder, I can make out what it is that's following us: it's my need to control all the people around me! The very thing that I left behind in order to walk with Jesus. The very thing that I "said goodbye to" not so long ago.

The problem is twofold: First, that although I had said good-bye to the habit, the habit hadn't said goodbye to me, and second, that I thought I was doing this all on my own, like spiritual a do-it-yourself project. Both of these are bad mistakes. Think of this image: You say goodbye to someone who you've come to realize is a bad influence on you; you leave them with a sigh of relief, not intending to see them ever again. But shortly thereafter, this person comes ringing your doorbell or starts texting you, clearly thinking that they're still part of your life. How frustrating! And you thought you were rid of this problem person! It seems that "saying goodbye" is not always enough to finish the job of separating from that other.

So, I've "said goodbye" to some practice or habit that could hold me back from following Jesus more closely. I think of Matthew having to constantly give up his former life as a tax-collector. My "conversion" project is not as dramatic as Matthews's was. But I bet that he was a lot like me in this: one goodbye wasn't enough: I need to keep repeating the same goodbye every day, I need to be converted not just once but constantly.


Clearly this can get frustrating and tiring -- which is why Jesus tells me to keep walking close to him: After all, this isn't my project as much as it is His.

I pray on the feast of St. Matthew for the gift of humility so that I can keep admitting that I depend on the Lord's help to keep converting every day of my life. I hope that I'll be able to accept his help and hear his words,"Do not be afraid. I am with you!"

ON LEAVING EVERYTHING

A couple of readings at mass this week have made me reflect on the idea of ¨leaving everything" in order to follow Christ. Since I ´m late getting to my blog post this week, I will offer a meditation on the subject that I wrote a couple of years ago.

I’ve been reflecting on this verse off and on since it occurred in the mass lectionary for Sunday, Feb 6, 2022: After Peter, James and John had made that miraculous catch of fish that almost sank their boats, Luke tells us that “They left everything and followed [Jesus]” (Lk 5:11).

I’d like to share two trains of thought that sprang from my studying two different words in the original Greek text.

LEAVE “EVERYTHING?”

in Mk 1:16–20 and Mt 4:18–22 the fishermen who follow Jesus leave their nets and their father; in Luke, though, they leave everything (you might recognize the Greek word for "all": panta). I wondered why Luke’s version  was different from the other two gospels, especially since Luke’s gospel was written after Mark and borrows a lot from that gospel. Well, it turns out that Luke changed it to “they left everything” quite on purpose. Look at these verses from later on his gospel:

After this he went out and saw a tax collector named Levi sitting at the customs post. He said to him, “Follow me.” And leaving everything behind,  he got up and followed him.” (5:28)

Do not be afraid any longer, little flock, for your Father is pleased to give you the kingdom. Sell your belongings and give alms. (12:33)

In the same way, everyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple. (14:33). 

(Jesus says to the rich young man:) “There is still one thing left for you: sell all that you have and distribute it to the poor, and you will have a treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” (18:22)

These verses, like the one we began with, are a clear demonstration of one of Luke’s main themes: complete detachment from material possessions.

But for me as a monk, that’s too easy -- I don’t really have much of anything as far as material possessions. For me the question is, “What are the things in my life that hold me back, that weigh me down as I try to follow Christ? My pride? My attachment to my job or to my public image? This makes for a good examination of conscience, and could be done every day.  

“LEAVE” EVERYTHING?

After reflection on the force of the word “everything,” I looked at the verb “left.”

Again the New Testament Greek offered a good insight. The verb aphiemi means “dismiss, leave, divorce, reject, stop an activity, etc.” What truly captured my imagination was the fact that this is the verb that Matthew uses when Jesus dies on the cross. It reads literally “He uttered a loud cry and let go of his spirit [my translation)]. (Mt. 27:50) Jesus utterly abandons himself to the Father in complete trust. This is the same word Luke uses in our passage when the first apostles “abandon” everything in order to follow Jesus. 

Am I ready for this kind of “letting go?” No holding on even by a thread, no safety net, no insurance policy. What kind of “letting go” does Jesus expect of me when he invites me to follow him? Would my life look much different if I took his invitation seriously?

I offer these questions to you in the hope that they might provoke you to reflect on your own way of responding to Christ’s invitation to “Come, follow me.” 

The apostles, after all, “left everything,” right? 

ON DENYING MYSELF

Jesus said to his disciples,

“Whoever wishes to come after me

must deny himself,

take up his cross, and follow me¨ (Matt 16:24).

At the risk of looking too picky or grumpy, I am sharing on this post a word search that began with yesterday´s gospel passage (above) and turned out to be quite fruitful for me. 

The verse above tells you that if you want to follow Christ, you have to “deny your self.” Frankly, I don’t find the common translation “deny” to be very helpful, at least to me. So yesterday I took a close look at the Greek word that Matthew uses, aparneomai. It has a few different senses:

1. To deny: to say that one does not know about, or is in any way related to a person or event. Now, just how am I supposed to say that I am in no way related to myself, I do not know about myself? OK. Then let’s move on to meaning number two.

2. “To reject,” as in the passage ¨I tell you, everyone who acknowledges me before others the Son of Man will acknowledge before the angels of God. But whoever denies me before others will be denied before the angels of God.¨(Lk 12:8-9) Well, that doesn’t sound like a good mental hygiene: to reject or turn my back on myself.

But don’t lose hope, because there is yet a third meaning.

3. “To refuse to give thought to, or expressed concern for; to disregard, to pay no attention to, to say ‘No´ to.¨ At last! This final phrase offers me a practical guideline for following Christ: To say no to my spoiled inner child. 

When I first saw this translation, it pointed an accusing finger right at my heart. I have countless opportunities every day to say “No.”

Especially to the spoiled brat who lives inside me. Even something as simple as refusing a second dessert, or biting my tongue when I want to yell at a misbehaving student, or picking up my laptop instead of doing, lectio divina.

One very practical advantage of this translation is that it allows me to practice on little things at first, so I can stay in practice for those times when serious temptations come along and, to be a follower of Christ, I have to say “No!” to them.

So when I hear Jesus tell his disciples that they have to “deny themselves,” I have a pretty good idea of what he must be asking of me.

THE SLAVE OF SLAVES

Today, Saturday September 9, is the memorial of Saint Peter Claver, Spanish San Pedro Claver, (born 1581, Verdú, Spain—died September 4, 1654, Cartagena, Colombia; canonized 1888; feast day September 9), Jesuit missionary to South America who, in dedicating his life to the aid of enslaved Africans, earned the title of “apostle of the Negroes.” At Vigils this morning we heard a reading from the Roman Breviary which reminded me how important it is to turn outward to seek and find Christ in others. I found it so powerful that I would like to share it with you without any further comment from me.

From a letter by Saint Peter Claver, priest

Yesterday, May 30, 1627, on the feast of the Most Holy Trinity, numerous blacks, brought from the rivers of Africa, disembarked from a large ship. Carrying two baskets of oranges, lemons, sweet biscuits, and I know not what else, we hurried toward them. When we approached their quarters, we thought we were entering another Guinea. We had to force our way through the crowd until we reached the sick. Large numbers of the sick were lying on the wet ground or rather in puddles of mud. To prevent excessive dampness, someone had thought of building up a mound with a mixture of tiles and broken pieces of bricks. This, then, was their couch, a very uncomfortable one not only for that reason, but especially because they were naked, without any clothing to protect them.

We laid aside our cloaks, therefore, and brought from a warehouse whatever was handy to build

a platform. In that way we covered a space to which we at last transferred the sick, by forcing a passage through bands of slaves. Then we divided the sick into two groups: one group my companion approached with an interpreter, while I addressed the other group. There were two blacks, nearer death than life, already cold, whose pulse could scarcely be detected. With the help of a tile we pulled some live coals together and placed them in the middle near the dying men. Into this fire we tossed aromatics. Of these we had two wallets full, and we used them all up on this occasion. Then, using our own cloaks, for they had nothing of this sort, and to ask the owners for others would have been a waste of words, we provided for them a smoke treatment, by which they seemed to recover their warmth and the breath of life. The joy in their eyes as they looked at us was something to see.

This was how we spoke to them, not with words but with our hands and our actions. And in fact, convinced as they were that they had been brought here to be eaten, any other language would have proved utterly useless. Then we sat, or rather knelt, beside them and bathed their faces and bodies with wine. We made every effort to encourage them with friendly gestures and displayed in their presence the emotions which somehow naturally tend to hearten the sick.

After this we began an elementary instruction about baptism, that is, the wonderful effects of the sacrament on body and soul. When by their answers to our questions they showed they had sufficiently understood this, we went on to a more extensive instruction, namely, about the one God, who rewards and punishes each one according to his merit, and the rest. We asked them to make an act of contrition and to manifest their detestation of their sins. Finally, when they appeared sufficiently prepared, we declared to them the mysteries of the Trinity, the Incarnation and the Passion. Showing them Christ fastened to the cross, as he is depicted on the baptismal font on which streams of blood flow down from his wounds, we led them in reciting an act of contrition in their own language.

To preach the Gospel to the poor, to heal the broken-hearted,

to proclaim pardon to captives