Mary always leads us to her Beloved Son

All the apostles fled from the cross save Blessed John.

Judas betrayed him. Peter denied him. The rest abandoned Him.

Why did St. John stay at the foot of the cross until the bitter end?

Was he not just as afraid as the rest of the twelve?

See the apostle self-described as "the disciple whom Jesus loved" at Golgotha's bloody mountain.

He stands with the Blessed Virgin Mary.

She is not leaving. Beyond all human comprehension her immaculate heart is crushed in agony as she stands there at the base of the cross united to her Beloved Son.

St. John obtained grace to brave the threats of the Romans, the treachery of the Jews, and the timidity of his fellow disciples because he followed our Lady.

He was caught up between the love of the Mother and the Son.

No human vocabulary suffices to describe such a love. 

The sacred heart of Christ and the immaculate heart of Mary are one.

Blessed John, trusting in our Lady, accompanies her on the Via Dolorosa and to Calvary.

She will not abandon Him, ever.

Some Saints and mystics have pondered that she would have substituted herself for Him had the Father's will permitted.

John, steadfastly united to Mary, finds the grace of supernatural courage in the face of this darkest of all moments in human history.

She faithfully leads all to her divine Son, and to Him crucified.

She obtains by her union with Him the gratuitous privilege to participate in a unique way in His sorrowful passion.

Are we not all afraid in our hearts to endure persecution and martyrdom?

This is completely natural.

In our own strength we too betray, deny, and abandon our Lord when the shadow of our own crosses draw near.

Let us then follow Blessed John's example and stay attached to our Lady.

Let us as St. John did unite ourselves to this unspeakable love between the Mother and the Son.

She will not fail us.

She will not abandon us.

She will always and only lead us to Jesus Christ our Lord.

For his attachment to our Blessed Lady St. John is granted the inestimable honor of being her son.

"Woman, behold thy son. Son, behold thy Mother."

Yes, persecution, illness, and death are intimidating and frighten us.

Yet, as Solomon wrote, "love is stronger than death" and St. John himself would later write "perfect charity casteth out fear."

It was love that kept St. John close to our Lord when the rest abandoned him.

Love overcomes fear.

Let us then love our Blessed Mother Mary in all our fears, failures, shortcomings and weaknesses. Cling to her as a child to its Mother. She will obtain the graces for us that kept St. John faithful when all fled.

Our Lady of Sorrows, pray for us. +

The small, still voice of faith

As bad as things may be or feel, there is always someone who has it worse than us. I'm not sure if that's supposed to comfort or encourage us, but it may stimulate a little touch of humility that most of us (I, especially) need. 

Beneath the clouds of emotion, the dark fear that threatens to engulf us, the relentless melancholy or sustained sadness that won't leave us there is a tiny voice of faith waiting for us to listen to it. Faith by itself can help but for most of us it needs the natural support of reason.

Reason helps us to look at things calmly, slowly, deliberately and with carefulness and due attention. Reason is the helper of supernatural faith and receives from this faith the divine assistance to organize our thoughts and to pray with our intellect and our will rightly ordered.

The good God -- all loving, all knowing -- has allowed things to be the way they are. It is tempting to yield to despair in such circumstances and see Him as a punishing, vengeful deity Who takes pleasure in our misery. Despair is a sin precisely because our good Shepherd would never allow more to come upon us than what we can bear assisted by divine grace. God loves you -- yes, YOU and no matter how awful, hopeless, or difficult your current situation He is with you, in you, and for you. 

Tears and prayers are lifted up to God (which is the right thing to do) but try to still your heart just for a second to hear that little tiny voice of faith inside; it isn't a sound, or a feeling, or a thought. It is belief in the goodness of the God Who was crucified to prove to us that there is nothing He wouldn't do to save us. We can make a decision to TRUST Him. A modest, humble act of placing trust in Him. "Oh God, I am overwhelmed. I don't know where to go or whom to turn to. Please look with mercy upon my weakness, my lack of faith, my suffering, so much of which has come upon me because of my own sins. I trust you in this moment. Please grant me the grace to trust you with my entire being. I confess that in myself I find no such strength, but beg Thee to visit me in this agony of mine and lift up my soul."

Mother of Jesus Christ, please pray for all those who read this little post to receive the divine assistance. +

Originally posted 27 December 2025

Praise to the God who brings forth beauty from ashes

Today I give praise to the God who brings forth beauty from ashes, life out of death, deliverance out of disaster. Even when something is ruined - utterly ruined without hope of restoration - it is never outside the power of divine love to make it new. God, who cannot lie, promises to reveal His love in our hearts if we show but a mustard seed's size of trust, if we can simply humble ourselves by baring our need and powerlessness before Him, if we will but fix our gaze on the unseen.

This divine love drives out fear and regenerates our spirit. It quenches the thirst that creatures cannot ever satisfy. It relieves the pressure and anxieties of a mind troubled by adversity. It comforts the soul with the comfort of Christ Jesus, the consolation of the easy yoke, the light burden, the shalom of the Lord.

I exult in Christ who raises the dead, who will never refuse a sinner, who is master over all the angelic and material order. In this Christ I place all my hopes for the forgiveness of my sins, the healing of broken heartedness, and the miraculous restoration of that which is ruined.

O Lord be glorified in my desolation. Rise up and show thy might amidst the rubble of my failures. Prove my enemies wrong, and conquer all my fears with thy limitless lovingkindness, thine unfathomable mercies.

To Thee and to thy holy cross be glory and honor and power forever.

+

Originally posted 22 September 2013

Christ came to me

It was on this day 40 years ago that our Lord Jesus Christ spoke to me in an audible voice changing my life forever. It happened on the bank of this pond in Richmond, Virginia.

Awakened by a frightening nightmare in which my future was revealed, I quickly dressed and ran down to this pond about 400 yards behind the house in which I lived at the time. I had to end my life; I had no choice. Evil was in me and had conquered.

Desperate to end this perpetuation of generational evil, I intended to plunge into the cold waters of the pond and die. As I ran, a cloud of noise circled overhead; it was a cacophony of all the wicked music I had loved and played. Voices shouted blistering condemnations at me, informing me it was too late for mercy.

At the shore of the pond a great weight pressed me to the earth, holding me down forcefully. My cheek in the dirt, I uttered words I had never admitted before:

"God, I know I deserve to go to hell -- but please save all the people I've been pushing away from you."

Instantly all the noise stopped. There was perfect silence in the wood. The weight lifted. And then I heard this majestic voice audibly address me:

Johnny, don't kill yourself. While you live for yourself you're already dead. Come and live for Me, and I'll lead you into life.

I looked around to see Who spoke these words but I knew Who it was. 

The voice was the voice of perfect authority. Perfect knowledge. Perfect compassion. The Speaker knew everything about me.

Other men may doubt the existence of God, but I can not. He delivered me from a completely rotten and ruined life on this day in 1985. Oh, my good and loving Lord Jesus Christ! I can never thank you enough if I had 10,000 lifetimes to repent and live for You. And I know I have failed You miserably too many times to count. Please finish the work You began in me and let me not be ashamed. Yours I am, and Yours I wish to be. 

Sister Marlene and the Blessed Virgin Mary

 I have to tell this story and I do not know where else to tell it but here in honor of our Blessed Mother.

It was 1968, and we lived in Oxon Hill, Maryland at the time of the riots in Washington, D.C. after the assassinations of Dr. King and R.F. Kennedy. The capital was on fire and National Guard troops stood watch outside the Montgomery Ward store where my mother worked.

I was a second grader at St. Thomas More Catholic School and I walked to school each day (yes, that's something seven year olds could do in the 1960s). I was often afraid to go to school because of what my father might do to my mother. He was violent, often drunk, and he would beat her like a man would beat another man with his fists.

My teacher was a lovely and very young Ursuline nun named Sister Marlene. 

Sister Marlene was (as I remember her) very pure and beautiful, and this image of our Lady reminds me of her very much. She knew I was having terrible trouble at home and did all she could to make my school hours as pleasant and happy as possible. Each day for lunch as we ate from our desks, she would play Paul Mauriat's "Love is Blue" on the classroom record player. Every time I hear that song I think of my dear Sister Marlene and how she loved me. 

For the school play, "The Wedding of Jack and Jill" she cast me as Jack. For the May Crowning of the Blessed Virgin's statue, I was selected to place the wreath on her head. Sister Marlene showed me much maternal love and sincere concern.

One day I had the privilege to eat lunch alone with her in the school cafeteria. Sister Marlene sat across the table from me and as I remember her, just glowed with innocence and purity. I believe she told me she was only 21 or 22 years old. As a seven-year-old, I knew I loved her, so I did the only thing I could imagine to do, and I asked her to marry me. Sister Marlene chuckled and blushed and said, "Johnny, I'm already married to Jesus" and showed me her ring. While I was very disappointed, I consoled myself with the thought of losing out to Jesus.

Now many decades later I realize how blessed I was to be loved by a religious sister who to this day reminds me of that pure and innocent love of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

Sister Marlene, wherever you are, thank you for taking care of me when my little world was falling apart. I love you very much and hope to see you in heaven to thank you for being so good to me.

Our Lord's loneliness during the Passion

Loneliness.

Even our Lord did not want to be alone before His Passion.

"With desire I have desired to eat this pasch with you, before I suffer." (St. Luke 22,15)

He loved His disciples. In this most intimate of all Passovers, He gave them Himself; His Body and Blood, the new and everlasting Covenant.

After the Pasch, He led them to the Garden of Gethsemane where he tells Peter, James, and John, "My soul is sorrowful even unto death: stay you here, and watch with me." (St. Matthew 26, 38)

Who is able to fathom this most bitter of all sorrows, save for the Mother of our Lord? He asks His disciples, "Stay you here, and watch with Me."

No one wants to be alone in their hour of need. 

Yet humanly speaking, we are abandoned all too often by human companions, and left in bitter sorrow alone.

Yet, we are never truly alone.

Jesus Christ the God-Man shares our sorrows, our sufferings, and yes, our loneliness. He of all men knows the sorrow and agony of loneliness.

Lord, forgive us for doubting Your nearness and solicitude for our souls.

Grant that we believe in Your divine caritas; that abandoned by men we may know that we are received by You, Redeemer of men and friend of sinners.

Prayer for the Virtue of Hope

Almighty God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, I thank You for your unfailing faithfulness to me.

I thank you for your nearness and gracious provision for me during my long and tumultuous life in this valley of tears.

I now place all my hopes in You alone; the hope of overcoming the world; the hope of resisting the relentless temptations to yield to my own sinful desires; the hope of being delivered from the assaults of the infernal accuser; and the hope of attaining everlasting life with my Savior Jesus Christ and my Mother in grace, the Blessed Virgin Mary.

You have kept my tears in your bottle, and measured consolations in proportion to each one far exceeding their bitterness. 

You have waited patiently for me when I foray into foolishness and sins, even mortal sins; You have tenderly called me back again and again when my vain desires deceived me. 

How could I ever doubt your Fatherly love and care for my soul?

Forgive me for wavering, my all-good and merciful Lord; forgive me for listening to those voices which poisoned me against childlike trust in Your faithfulness and sweetness. 

Keep my eyes fixed O God on the Innocent Lamb slain for me and the whole human race from before the foundations of the world, that I may never despair of your divine fidelity. Grant to me I beg You, O Good Shepherd the grace of supernatural hope, that my weak and faltering faith may not fail. O blessed fruit of the Holy Ghost! Hope in me, divine Paracletos, that when my own hope dims, You will work in me what I cannot obtain without Your assistance. 

Saint Augustine, pray for us.

Saint Monica, pray for us.

Mother of Divine Grace, pray for us.

A Cry for Mercy Beneath the Cross

O Good Master, I have nothing to offer Thee but my sins and guilt.

My faith is weak and full of imperfections. 

My good works are filthy rags, an embarrassment in light of Thy excessively generous gifts.

Fear of Thy just retribution covers me like a thick, black cloud, obscuring all view of anything but my culpability.

Even to pray, I feel resistance, as though some dark power menaces me.

But Thou O Lord, art love; Thou art to the Greeks agape and to the Hebrews ch'sed. No word in my native tongue approaches these renderings, so we say Thou art perfect charity.

In this do I hope; not in my prayers, not in my poor excuse for faith, not in my religious observance, not in my mediocre fasting or impoverished almsgiving. 

Only in this goodness and mercy of the divine Essence, which the Apostles teach us Thou art.

At the foot of Thy holy cross I tremble, ashamed, afraid.

How unfathomable is my debt to Thee, O Lord!

Only that grace which Thou pourest into my stony, cold heart can save me.

Only these actual graces - gratuitous gifts from your most merciful heart, pierced with the lance of my pride - can deliver me from my craven, unspiritual fear on the one hand and my insufferable arrogance and presumption on the other. 

When Thou judgest me at my death, consider these wounds of charity, Good Master, remember the terrible price you paid to ransom my soul, and not the contemptible vessel who receives the benefit of their merit. 

Grant to me O merciful and loving Jesus to persevere in the grace which You lavish upon sinners, and not to despair of my unworthiness but to remain immovably attached to your Passion on our behalf.

Amen.

The Cruelty of God

Since the Garden of Eden men have grappled with the Problem of Evil.

Why would an all-good, holy, just and benevolent Father-Creator engender billions of souls knowing that a great number - almost all by some Saints' estimation - would be eternally damned?

And how can we love such a God?

Isn't this the epitome of cruelty?

And look at the great servants and saints of God - hated, unjustly punished, persecuted, tortured, maligned, condemned, martyred.

If this is how God allows His friends to be treated, no wonder He has so few!

Lastly, even Christ Who commanded legions of powerful angels set such power aside to be abused at the hands of men and in the spirit of Satanic cruelty.

In our own lives we experience tragedy, abandonment, betrayal, rejection, are ostracized if we take a stand - however minor - for a just cause or for sacrality. 

Even those who are religious are often told their religion is lukewarm, formalist, empty of true supernatural faith, unworthy of any favor or attention from the Most High God. 

Everywhere we look we see this cruelty, this injustice, this chaos and perturbation. Often it follows us into our sleep where we are tormented by nightmares and anxious fears, even safely in our beds.

Why?

Where is the God Who is love?

I don't know the answer.

That is the dark reality of the problem of evil.

It is a mystery, and we are not given to know why God allows evil to prosper, souls to perish, eternity to be engulfed in tormenting flames for an uncountable number of them.

The standard answers are that God allows evil so that good may come from it, and that He made man free so that man could choose the good over the evil without coercion. 

This culminates at Golgotha where the most horrific evil conceivable - Deicide - the malicious torture and murder of God - takes place in the holiest city on earth and at the hands of its priests. 

Theologians, philosophers and mystics have in their own turn explained the great mystery of eternal salvation through the offering of Christ as divine Victim who propitiates the wrath of God - not for Himself, but for us sinners. 

The mangled body on the tree belongs to the Creator.

It is He Who hangs there between heaven and earth, blood surging from His hands and feet, in agony twisting to breathe and endure both the physical torments and the humiliating contempt of His own people. 

There is no other way to overcome evil we are told.

We must appropriate this sacrifice personally, to our own souls by our own free will. 

We must own the God-Man, condemned by the Jews, crucified by the Romans, abandoned by all but a tiny handful after He had spent His brief yet full life doing only good to the helpless. 

I do not understand any of this.

The problem of evil is NOT resolved for me by this mystery.

But there is even for my brute ignorance, something marvelous and all-encompassing about the Galilean impaled during Passover between two capital criminals. 

Why, Lord?

Wasn't there some other way?

Didn't You pray, "Abba Father, please let this cup pass from me?"

Stripes and thorns and nails and a spear thrust through your innocent heart - THIS is the way we must trod to be delivered from the consequences of our very real and personal sins?

I totter on the precipice of despair to weigh this moral equation on my utterly corrupt and inadequate conscience.

How can I follow you, Lord? Follow You here?

Here on Golgotha's bloody summit with the Blessed Virgin Mary?

I freely confess I have no answers.

The problem of evil remains. It is strong, convincing, logical, compelling, relentless, concrete, real, and we are all intimate with it.

This Lent I step out into the darkness of my greatest fear - that of eternal damnation - trembling, weak, scandalized, and unsure. I pray for the grace of hope. Only hope can overcome the Tempter's smooth and efficient logic. I cannot attain to any peace in my intellect, yet I know without the gratuitous gift of supernatural hope, I am and will be lost.

Son of David, we both know I deserve hell. Please don't let the enemy win. 

I need You.

Come, hide yourself in Me, be still, and know that I am God

The Lord is still GOD in the midst of the storms and tumults.

We feel insecure, shaken, afraid;

He abides in ultimate power and security.

"Come, hide yourself in Me, be still, and know that I am God."

The shouting of wicked voices fills our hearing and the threats of violence makes us ready to spring and defend ourselves.

Yet the Lord remains unshaken, almighty, sovereign.

On top of all the threats from without we are accused within.

The vile seducer whispers guilt and blame into our souls.

We often listen intently to him as he counsels fear and anxiety.

Yet this is not the voice of the Good Shepherd who lays down His life for the sheep, lost though they may be.

"Hath no one condemned thee? Neither do I. Go, and sin no more."

Chaos, confusion, darkness surrounds us; winds of change and lightning bolts of the apocalypse frighten us.

Yet the Holy One of Israel changes not.

He is ever reliable, faithful, kind, patient, understanding, compassionate, just and slow to anger, plenteous in mercy.

Oh, my soul! Put down your anchor here!

Moor yourself to this holy Rock of all the ages!

Hide yourself in the wounds of the Crucified.

He cannot be moved. 

He cannot fail.

He cannot deceive.

He calls you: come, my child. Come home. I am your exceedingly great reward; I am your destiny and your ultimate end.

Oh the words I long to hear from Thee, my God:

"You are mine."

Fighting our Crosses

One of the most miserable pitfalls of the Christian life is when the believer fights those crosses which God has imposed on us for the good of our soul, even as a necessity to attain salvation. Difficult relationships, stressful circumstances, poor health, even persecution are crosses which God in His mysterious Providence has allowed to afflict us to bring about the fruits of the life in Christ. We make ourselves exceedingly unhappy when we cannot see God's part and focus only on defeating people and having our own way. The voice of faith speaks this way: God has allowed this cross to afflict me; therefore He is providing the grace for me to accept it with resignation to His will and to bring forth good fruits by cooperating with His Spirit and bearing it with patience.

Originally posted 15 June 2018

Prayer in anguish

O Good Master, Who has loved me since I was a drop of blood in my mother's womb; receive my brokenness, my wounded spirit, and the rejection that is crushing my soul. Please take my tears and this agony and unite them with that divine intention with which You praised God while on earth; may my misery which I richly deserve because of all my sins be a pleasing sacrifice acceptable to Your Father. Please do not punish me as my iniquities require, but in Your vast ocean of mercy hear my prayer for purification, perfect contrition, and growth in virtue. No suffering that is offered to God through You our Redeemer and Good Shepherd is wasted. Grant me to suffer in union with Your own cruel torments, that through a modest share in your cross I may merit eternal life. Amen. 

Originally posted 20 May, 2021

Look to the Crucified

During the times when the demon and his accusers threaten us with floods, we must with calm trust in the promises of Christ resist him by looking not at our works or worthiness, but at the wounds of Jesus, pierced for us sinners.  The priestly sacrifice of our Lord on the cross must absorb our gaze, and we must relinquish all hope in ourselves, lest we despair of the waves of condemnation launched at us by the accuser of the brethren.  Our own sufferings, however light and modest, we must join to this holy and pleasing sacrifice which the Father accepts, and determine in ourselves to suffer abuse and rejection with Christ, Whom this world hates.  Thereby our weaknesses become strengths in Him who justifies the wicked, and upholds the powerless in the face of their tormentors. 

Originally posted 12 December 2011

Rejection, betrayal, and abandonment

The three injuries that wound the spirit are rejection, betrayal, and abandonment. These cannot be healed by any psychological methods; they are wounds in the essence of our being. 

Neither can their debilitating effects be mitigated by favorable circumstances in our lives, even if we recognize these favors as coming from divine providence. As salutary as these blessings and consolations may be, they do not penetrate the depths of our souls where the wounds lay. These wounds bring unexpected waves of grief and sorrow, even in the midst of blessing.

Only frequent and sober reflection on the goodness of God in Christ crucified can bring healing. Entering into the rejection, betrayal, and abandonment of Christ touches where no psychological or circumstantial benefits can; submersion into His undeserved wounds alone can heal. 

In the Redeemer's wounds we find not the soothing of our broken hearts, but the validation of both our existence and our suffering. He wills us, both to live and to suffer, not as tormenting punishment, but as the only way of escaping the corruption of sin in our souls. If there were another way, how immediately would this loving Savior apply it to us!

Jesus Christ crucified is the ultimate message of love, and only divine charity can heal the wounds caused by rejection, betrayal, and abandonment. This is a profound mystery inaccessible to our intellects unaided by supernatural grace. Yet with even a minimum of faith in our blessed Lord's sacrifice on our behalf, heaven is opened and the grace of God's unfathomable love for us is poured upon us.

"He came to His own, and His own received Him not (St. John 1,11); His own disciple betrayed Him; on the cross He cried out, "My God, my God - why have You abandoned me?" This innocent Victim suffered for US; His wounds were propitiatory, substituting for the condemnation our sins and misdeeds rightly deserved. He alone felt the depths of grief, sorrow, agony, torments, loneliness, and fear that is ours. He alone can touch the deepest recesses of our spirit. Even if all else in our lives failed, this divine touch can heal us inwardly and equip us to face everything that life can throw at us, including the final crisis of death.

No, the love we need to address the wounds of rejection, betrayal, and abandonment will not be found in favorable circumstances, renewed thinking or happy times. It is only to be found on Golgotha's bloody mountain, where in the mystery of God's love for us all is justified, sanctified, and healed.

O Lord Jesus Christ, only Son of the living God be merciful to me, a sinner.  

Prayer in severe trial

O Lord, hide me in Thy precious wounds; I am unable to bear the battering winds of the calamity come upon me. My confidence is devastated; my strength collapsed. Unless You deliver me, I am without hope. 

Look not upon my sins which destroy all hope of Thy mercies; my transgressions are piled up to heaven. Break through the hardness of my heart, the stubbornness of my pride, the dullness of my carnal mind. 

In the day of my distress I called upon Thee alone; I did not resort to man nor his counsels, but to my God, my Creator, my Redeemer, my only hope.

Surely Thou art a God of compassion and fatherly goodness; Thou takest no delight in the despair and futility of Thy creatures which Thou hast conceived in love.

Make me to know that no matter how engulfed I am in darkness and misery, I have a Father in heaven Who loves me and will save me, even from myself.

Originally posted 29 June 2020

Abandonment and the Faithfulness of God

The soul that feels abandoned may seek for consolation, acceptance, and security from other souls that apart from good intention, may never be able to fill the awful void left by the experiences of abandonment. 

The Saints and mystics bid us to abandon ourselves to the divine will, trusting in the goodness and providence of our Creator and Redeemer. Yet for those with the awful experiences of abandonment, this type of trust can be elusive and even frightening. 

True security is not the mere *feeling* of security, which even for the most fortunate of us is fleeting. True security comes from the decision to believe that God will never abandon us. For wounded souls, this decision may have to be made a thousand times a day, each time as an act of faith in the goodness of God. 

Our Blessed Lord knows the desolation of abandonment as He cried out pitifully on the cross, Eli, Eli, lama sabacthani (my God, my God, why hast Thou abandoned me?). But this abandonment was for us, for our benefit, for our salvation, for our desperate need for ultimate security. The divine Son experienced abandonment so that He could perfectly understand it with a human mind, a human heart, and a human soul. And He understands our abandonment, our fear of rejection, our great need for trusting faith in the all-good God Who created us and sent His only Son to save us.

Baby steps are acceptable in the journey of trust. God can restore our willingness and ability to trust in Him, regardless of our personal experiences of being abandoned by men.

To Thee O Lord, I lift up my soul. 
In Thee O my God, I put my trust.
Let me not be ashamed.
Psalm 24:1

Originally posted 4 September 2015

On Fatherhood

 "...you have received the spirit of adoption of sons, whereby we cry: Abba (Father)."  Romans 8,15

The baptized person certainly receives this spirit of adoption as the Lord and His apostles teach; yet this spirit must be accessed not only through the will but first through the intellect.

For millions of us in these dark times the figure of father is distorted, weakened, and obscured by relentless attacks from the so-called progressives, the media, and in the end, by the demon himself, whom our Lord named "the father of lies." Fatherhood is made superfluous by the state which subsidizes out-of-wedlock births; fatherhood is lampooned by the media which makes him the butt of jokes and the punchline of dark humor. Social commentators label any expression of virility as 'toxic masculinity' and replace the order of the family as constituted by the Creator with a synthetic democracy of equals.

Those who have grown up abandoned by their fathers or had them ripped from their lives by divorce carry within their intellect the trauma of this primal loss. Some have never even known their fathers or have been abused by common-law live-in substitutes who had no claim on their filial obedience. For so many of us, the idea of father is complex and troubling, evincing a multitude of thoughts and emotions that marshal our fears and restrict our trust. Is God a father like one of these I have known?

To us, Divine Providence has given Blessed Joseph, foster father of the Son of God. 

This gentle yet virile man among men was a descendant of the great King David which slew wicked Goliath; who accepted the virginal conception of Christ in the womb of Mary despite all inclinations to put her away quietly. This Joseph who modeled fatherhood for the formation of the human intellect of the God-Man is likewise given to us as a figure of the divine fatherhood to which St. Paul refers in the above quoted passage from Romans.

But we are not limited only to knowledge about Joseph; we are invited to engage his power as an intercessor here below who is so powerful in heaven. We are given such tender of examples of his fatherhood as we find in this ancient and much cherished prayer:

"Oh, St. Joseph, I never weary contemplating you and Jesus asleep in your arms; I dare not approach while he reposes near your heart. Press him in my name and kiss his fine head for me and ask him to return the kiss when I draw my dying breath."

St. Joseph is also the patron saint of a happy and holy death as he merited decease in the luminous presence of Jesus and Mary. How much he has to offer our generation of fatherless and father-wounded pilgrims! No matter how terrible (or completely missing) our experience of fatherhood may be, the Holy Spirit is willing and able to heal those memories through contemplation of Blessed Joseph. 

Lastly, those of us who are fathers may also have discovered our weaknesses and deficiencies too late to mitigate their evil effects on our families, particularly our children. We cannot go back. What is done is done. But we can own those faults and in humility accept responsibility for them. We can do what is in our power to minister graces to our families by living in the example of Blessed Joseph. The harsh condemnations, accusations, cold silences and rejection of the values we raised our children with are now a heavy and agonizing cross, but a cross we never carry alone. God is with us in Christ our Savior Who shoulders these crosses with us in fathomless compassion. And our holy Mother the Church bids us in sweet invitation, "ite ad Josef" (go to Joseph).

Originally posted 13 August 2023

Deliver me from craven, servile fear O Lord

 Fear is not in charity: but perfect charity casteth out fear, because fear hath pain. And he that feareth, is not perfected in charity.

[Timor non est in caritate : sed perfecta caritas foras mittit timorem, quoniam timor poenam habet : qui autem timet, non est perfectus in caritate.]  1 John 4,18

On its face, this passage especially taken in the context set forward by St. John in the 4th chapter of his first epistle seems very simple and direct: fear - the belief that some severe harm is coming to us or could come - is incompatible with the charity (Greek: agape) that God has towards us. He that yet fears the wrath or vengeance of God is somehow deficient in his reception of divine love.
As simple as it is - it is not easy. For each of us well knows our undeserving status, in which we can lay no claims at all to the divine mercy of almighty God. The evidence of this divine love is the sacrifice which Christ offered to the Father for us sinners. Yet when I look upon the crucifix and see the agony of my Redeemer, rather than rejoice in how loved I am by this Holy Savior, I am appalled at what my sins have done to Him Who was completely innocent and deserving not only of my love but my unquestioning obedience.
God please help me to look past my innumerable faults and trespasses and receive this divine caritas which You not only lavish upon me daily - hourly - moment by moment - but are offended when I do not sufficiently trust in it.
Deliver me from craven, servile fear O Lord that I may boast only in Thy divine generosity. St. Joseph, please obtain for me the grace of childlike trust in the goodness of the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. 

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The greatest grace we can receive is to trust in God

Our loving God sees our sorrows and torments and takes no pleasure in them. He loves us perfectly, and He loves also those with whom we disagree. He knows our struggles and failures, and is always ready to forgive, heal, and restore.

 The greatest grace we can receive is the grace to trust in God. All other benefits and benedictions are secondary to this most desirable of all spiritual and temporal treasures. O the struggles to attain this trust! Cease from striving and let the goodness of His divine love come to you in stillness and silence. His own peace ('shalom' - supernaturally imparted goodness, consolation, prosperity, contentment) is His gift to us. Perhaps our circumstances won't change immediately; but our inner disposition can in the will to trust with childlike dependence. 

 To thee, O Lord, have I lifted up my soul. In thee, O my God, I put my trust; let me not be ashamed.

 Psalm 24, 1-2

Originally posted 22 February 2017

Keeping ourselves in the love of God

Keep yourselves in the love of God, waiting for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, unto life everlasting. 

- St. Jude, 21

I never thought about "keeping myself in the love of God" until recently. It must be possible, or the Apostle here would not command it. St. Paul teaches that "it is the goodness of God that leads us to repentance" (Rom. 2:4) - repentance being a cooperation between us and the grace of God. This cooperation continues as we keep ourselves in the love of God. 

How often have I dwelt on everything but the love of God! Nowhere is this love more profoundly communicated than at Calvary, where our Lord offered Himself for sinners. While meditation on the cross rightly stirs in us feelings of contrition and shame for our sins, it's work is only complete when we recognize the great love with which God has met us in Christ, at the point when we are most helpless, most unworthy of grace.

Lord, teach me how to keep myself in your love, and to trust in the mercy St. Jude tells us will come to us at our death or your return.

(personal meditation from 2013)