Bishop of Dalat Visits Saint John’s Seminary

Bishop Anthony Vu Huy Chuong of Dalat in Vietnam visited Saint John’s Seminary this week.  At the conclusion of his visit he posed with Monsignor Moroney and the Vietnamese seminarians.

Some Food for Thought

Civiltà Cattolica has published a summary of some extended reflections given by Pope Francis in the course of a meeting with leaders of religious communities gathered in Rome for a conference at the Salesianum.  While you may have seen shorter summaries of this article in popular media outlets, the context of the Holy Father’s words have often been lacking.

In order to obtain a fuller context, I would recommend the full article, which you can read in English by clicking here.

I find the Holy Father’s reflections on priestly formation reaffirming and filled with the candor we have come to expect from him.  Recall that as a Jesuit superior he was involved in the delicate work of discernment and formation for many years.  

The Holy Father touched on many themes relevant to our work at Saint John’s, but three of them have touched me deeply and invite you to join me in struggling with them in the days and months to come.

1. Reality by Experience

The Holy Father begins by reminding us that while preparation for ministry takes place through the classical four pillars, it is best accomplished with a view from the periphery and including a real contact with the poor.  There is real food for thought for seminary formators here:

“This is really very important to me: the need to become acquainted with reality by experience, to spend time walking on the periphery in order really to become acquainted with the reality and life-experiences of people. If this does not happen we then run the risk of being abstract ideologists or fundamentalists, which is not healthy.”

This view from the periphery gives us access to “a new language, a new way of saying things,” Pope Francis suggests.  

I wonder whether the great work of recent years on the “New Evangelization” does not have something important to learn here.  For so long we have been searching for “the rights words” to get people to come back to Church.  But what the Pope seems to be telling us is that this language must be formulated from the point of view of those most marginalized and alienated from our modern culture and from our Church.  

We who seek to bring people back to Church have something to learn from the enormous crowds who want to be near a Pope who kisses the man defaced with boils, cradles a handicapped child in his arms and spends more time at a General Audience with the sick than with visiting Bishops.

The Gospel of mercy, it seems, is conveyed more effectively by actions than by words.   This may be the very key to the New Evangelization for which we have been so desperately searching.

2. Formation as a Work of Art

You have heard me speak before about one central and necessary tension in seminary life: of creating an atmosphere of trust and brotherly respect while, at the same time, maintaining the standards needed to call men to effective discernment and formation.

The Holy Father points out that true formation takes place when the formator takes on the role of a brother, not a police officer.  

“..formators who are equipped really to accompany those in their charge.  Dialog must be serious, without fear, sincere…Formation is a work of art, not  police action.  Otherwise we are creating little monsters.  And then these little monsters mold the Pope of God.  This really gives me goose bumps.”

The Pope’s “goose bumps” come from the fear of a priest who sees his job as law enforcement rather than conversion of heart,  The parish priest is the one who lets go of everything to follow Christ, who so conforms his heart to Christ that he is able to be a ‘father, brother, traveling companion.’  

That is why the Seminary culture must make clear that “problems are not solved simply by forbidding doing this or that.  Dialog as well as confrontation are needed.”  

If the formator does not seek to become the loving elder brother, seminarians will go underground and “grit their teeth, try not to make mistakes follow the rules smiling  a lot, just waiting for the day when they are role: ‘Good.  You have finished formation.’”

In other words, we are about forming human hearts, transforming the whole person to be a shepherd after Christ’s own heart.  I am grateful to Pope Francis for the reminder that we are in the business not of forming “administrators and managers” but “father, brothers, and traveling companions.”

3. Tenderness

To be a priest means to have learned how to speak from the heart, indeed, to let Christ use our hearts to speak his love to a hurting world (cor ad cor loquitor).  The Holy Father conveys this by telling the story of a mother whose tender glance saved her son:

“…a young man who lived with his mom, who was a widow and who did the laundry of wealthy families. This young man no longer went to work and lived in an alcoholic haze. The mom was not able to help him: every morning before leaving she would simply look at him with great tenderness. Today this young man has a position of responsibility: he overcame that problem, because in the end that look of tenderness from his mom shook him up. We have to recapture that tenderness, including maternal tenderness. Think of the tenderness that Saint Francis lived, for example. Tenderness helps to overcome conflicts. If this is insufficient, it might be necessary to change communities.”

And that’s the kind of priest the world needs today.

Installation of Bishop Matano

Father Romanus Cessario, OP, Father Jim Conn, SJ and I concelebrated the installation Mass of Bishop Salvatore Matano as the ninth Bishop of Rochester this afternoon.  Bishop Matano is a member of Saint John's Board of Trustees and a great friend.

Monsignor Moroney, Bishop Matano, Father Conn, and Bishop Deeley before the installation Mass.

Click here for a link to a video report on the installation Mass.

From the Sea of Galilee

A number of the faculty and staff from Saint John's Seminary are in the Holy Land these days for a spiritual pilgrimage.  Here are a few pictures from their walk in the footsteps of the Lord!  Please keep them in your prayers.

Sunset on the Sea of Galilee

Armand Delando, Father O'Connor, Father Bennett and Father Scorzello on the Sea of Galilee

Father O'Connor prepares for Mass on the Mount of Beatitudes

May she rest in peace!

This morning I was honored to celebrate the Funeral Mass of Florence Leaver, grandmother of Boston seminarian Kevin Leaver.  Many seminarians and priests were present for the Funeral, at which I preached the following homily:

There’s something strange about this morning.  For, as Mr. Farley will recall, for so many years it was never really an Immaculate Conception Funeral without Flo and Gerry Leaver and Ruth and Ed Horan sitting in the pew by the organ over there. But you know what?  I’ll tell you a secret.  Flo and Gerry and Ruth and Ed are still here, with all the angels and saints, as we celebrate this Funeral Mass and pray that God will forgive whatever sins Flo may have committed on this day of her birth unto eternal life.

In fact, I think we may even have a new image of the Kingdom of Heaven in this season of Newborn love.  It’s the image of Flo and Gerry and Ed and all the saints gathered in Ruth’s fire-proof Christmas room in the Kingdom heaven, each dressed in really gaudy Christmas sweaters, singing Christmas hymns to organ, violin and harp, before the newborn Christ, who smiles on them, and joins them to himself in eternal light and glory.

It all began eighty-six years ago at Saint Peter’s in Dorchester as, Ella and George Hanlon brought their little baby into Church to be Baptized.  The Priest took water in a small golden shell and pouring it over the child’s forehead said: Ego te baptizo, in nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sanctus.  I baptize you, Florence, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

Thus began a great journey, as Flo was joined to the death and rising of Christ Jesus.  She would learn how to kneel down and pray, to make the sign of the cross, to go to confession and to receive Jesus in Holy Communion.  Gertie was there to see it, as day by day and year by year, she came to know Christ Jesus.  She learned to love, to forgive and to live in the model of her Lord and Savior. 

And then, Flo and  Gerry came to Church and stood before the altar and promised to remain faithful to one another and to God.  And from that faithfulness, God brought forth Janet and Gerry, Jr. and John and Ginnie and George and Paul as a concrete sign of the willingness of Florence and Gerry to cling to faithful love in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, until death.

In fact, on the day they were married, Flo and Gerry knelt before the altar as the priest, extending his hands over them, blessed them with a quotation from Psalm 128: videas filios filiorum tuorum: May you live to see your children’s children.  And so faithful was God’s love for Flo that she lived to know and to love Colleen, Joe, Mark, Kevin, Chris, Julianne, Robert, Corey and even, as great grandmother, little Callie.

In the years to come, Flo and Gerry knew good times, but they also knew bad, facing each day with the same faith which sustained them throughout their lives, as when they buried Gerry and Ginnie with faith that they would see them once again in the Kingdom of Heaven.  

Or when Flo stood by Gerry’s bed without complaint and prayed and nursed him into God’s arms, ever filled with the assurance of the words we will pray at the close of today’s Mass, that she would see him once again in glory.  

Just imagine the scene, if you will, as they all run out to meet one another in the presence of God in the Kingdom of Heaven!  

So we rejoice on this day that Florence’s eyes can once again behold Gerry and know his loving embrace.  Just as we pray that God forgive whatever sins she may have committed and look upon her with his faithful and infinite love.

For there are many heavenly graces even today, which God has granted to this daily communicant.  She died on a Saturday, just like Gerry, on the Blessed Mother’s Day.  She died in the Advent Christmas Season, the same season in which she buried her two children, in the sure and certain hope that those who receive the body of the child born in the manger, will never really die, but will be raised up with him on the last day.  

…

This is the season of gifts, and the greatest gift is the birth of the Son of God.  And I’m sure you’re remembering today the many gifts which Flo gave to each of you on Christmases past.  

But today she gives you the greatest gift of all.  For today she reminds each one of us of the journey we’re on.  It starts in the arms of our parents…it starts at the font of blessed water where we are first joined to Christ and to his cross.  And then it takes all kinds of twists and turns, sometimes bringing us closer to God and sometimes leading us away from him.

But today Flo reminds us where that journey ends.  It ends in the same place it began: before Christ, who will judge each one of us on the last day.  Christ, who calls us to turn away from selfishness and sin, and cling to faithful love.  Christ, who urges us to forgive, even as we ask to be forgiven.  Christ, who laid down his life for the world, and asks us to do the same.  Christ, who loved us faithfully and then commanded: love others as I have loved you.

For the greatest memorial to Florence Leaver will not be the finest monument in Holy Sepulchre Cemetery.  It will not even be the wonderful stories you will tell or even the moments you will recall her wise and faithful words.  No, the greatest memorial to Flo, will be the life of faithful love which you are invited to live with the Son of God and his Church, the same journey she walked and which led to the loving arms of Christ Jesus, her Lord.

This Most Sacred Night...

O God, who have made this most sacred night radiant with the splendor of the true light, grant, we pray, that we, who have known the mysteries of his light on earth, may also delight in his gladness in heaven. Who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

A Homily for a Few Days Before Christmas

We wait for Jesus

Little children wait for Jesus in the manger.  They long for Christmas.  They start even now to dream of twinkling lights and brightly colored presents, of the smell of fresh Christmas trees and incense, of the feeling of trying to stay awake at Midnight Mass, of the food and the friends and the Christmas carols.

Children wait for Jesus to be placed in the manger: for him to be born as a little child, just like them.  

Years ago, when the son of one of my oldest friends had just turned three years old (he was at that age when we first appropriate the idea of time) his mother made the mistake of telling him: Just imagine, Sean...soon it will be Christmas!

An hour passed, and little Sean returned from his play...Is it Christmas yet? he asked. No, Sarah, told him. Not for another four weeks.   It’s not Christmas yet.

Fifteen minutes passed.  And Sean was back, tugging at her skirt.  Is it Christmas yet? he asked a bit more insistently.  No Sean, I told you it’s not for another four weeks.  And then she thought for a moment how she would explain four weeks, but soon gave up the hope.

Fifteen minutes later he returned, tugging and whining and almost in tears.  Is it Christmas now?  he demanded.  No, Sarah told him.  And then she swooped him up in her arms, dried his tears, and asked softly: You really want it to be Christmas Sean.  You want Jesus to come right now, don’t you?  Yes...the words shot out of him as from a canon...I want Jesus to come right now!  So do I Sarah, said softly.  So do I.

Indeed, the further we get into the last half of life, the more we wait for Jesus in a whole other way.  

The actuarial tables project that I will die in 21.48 years.  That’s 7,482 days and 8 hours.  Not that I’m counting.   

But I am waiting.  I’m waiting each time I get a new twinge or something else stops working or I read one more obituary of someone younger than myself.

And how do we wait for him?  We wait with patience, with longing and with the clear conviction that what he has planned for us is greater than our wildest dreams, that nothing can surpass the beauty of his face or the wonder of the dwelling he has prepared for us in the eternity of his love.

But I also have no doubt that the waiting will not always be easy.  The love God offers us as we age is often in the form of a cross, or of sacrifice, or some other imitation of his love for us.  But the great consolation is not that waiting for God gets easier with age, but that we no longer wish to break the appointment.

And so we wait, and we pray.  For "to pray means to wait for the God who comes. every prayer-filled day sees a meeting with him; every night which we faithfully put at his disposal is filled with his presence.”

And what more could we ask for, but to be counted worthy to wait in joyful hope, for the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.