Friday, 2 October 2020

Go and Look at Misery - October Spiritual Reflection

 


An extract from the October Spiritual Reflection  by Alain Besner, National Spirituality Committee, Quebec Regional Council

What most astonished Frédéric Ozanam during his university years became a turning point in his life (as happened to Paul on the road to Damascus, Ac 9:1-19, but less dramatically). That was to run out of arguments against those who, in March 1833, were objecting that most Christians paid no attention to the misery of their contemporaries and did not even join forces to alleviate it. Let us read excerpts from his letter to Léon Curnier, Paris, February 23, 1835, where this is mentioned:

The savants have compared the state of the slaves of antiquity with the condition of our workers and proletariat and have found the latter to have more to complain of, after eighteen centuries of Christianity. Then, for a like evil, a like remedy. The earth has grown cold. It is for us Catholics to revive the vital beat to restore it, it is for us to begin over again the great work of regeneration...

The humanity of our days seems comparable to the traveller to whom the Gospel speaks; it also, although it took its way in roads marked out for it by Christ, has been attacked by the cutthroats and robbers of thought, by wicked men who have robbed it of what it possessed: the treasure of faith and love, and they have left naked and wounded and lying by the side of the road. Priests and levites have passed by, and this time, since they were true priests and levites, they have approached suffering themselves and wished to heal it. But in its delirium, it did not recognize them and repulsed them.

In our turn, weak Samaritans, worldly and people of little faith that we are, let us dare nonetheless to approach this great sick one. Perhaps it will not be frightened of us. Let us try to probe its wounds and pour in oil, soothing its ear with words of consolation and peace; then, when its eyes are opened, we will place it in the hands of those whom God has constituted as the guardians and doctors of souls, who are also, in a way, our innkeepers in our pilgrimage here below; so as to give our errant and famished spirits the holy word for nourishment and the hope of a better world for a shield.

That is what is proposed to us, the sublime vocation God has given us.

Read the full spiritual reflection here


Friday, 25 September 2020

Feast day of St. Vincent de Paul - September 27


 

A reflection by Deacon Steve

“…our Lord's work is accomplished not so much by the multitude of workers as by the fidelity of the small number whom He calls." - St. Vincent de Paul

As we celebrate the Memorial of St. Vincent de Paul (unfortunately it falls on a Sunday so it is not mentioned) let us ponder these words he wrote.

There may be times we are tempted to get discouraged or begin to doubt what we are doing in our service to the Lord. The more we give out the greater we become aware that the need dwarfs the work we have done. Somehow it may feel overwhelming. In this time of Covid-19 indeed we are hearing that the rich grow vastly richer and the poor are becoming even more numerous.

St. Vincent reminds us that we are to stay focused on our love for our Lord and our Lord’s people and allow that love to grow ever deeper. We are not to “count” the results or measure as the world does.
Instead, with God’s grace, we are to allow our Lord to open and fill our hearts with our Lord’s abundant goodness, love and mercy, and then go out and be that love for others. That is all the Lord asks of us and God will do the rest.

Deacon Steve Pitre is Spiritual Advisor to our Conference in Newmarket

Monday, 21 September 2020

The Paradox of the Cross


Spiritual Reading, Monday September 14, 2020

Deacon Steve took our spiritual reading last Monday from “The Passion and the Cross”, a book by Ron Rolheiser.

“A man, a God, hangs naked, exposed vulnerable, defenseless, silent, with his arms stretched wide, open for an embrace, and with his hands also stretched open with nails driven through them. Yet strangely, in all that, we don’t see bitterness, defeat and anger. Paradoxically, we see their opposite. This is what real trust, love, and metanoia (un-paranoia) look like.

And I say “look like” because we don’t understand this- we see it. We don’t understand intellectually how giving oneself over in betrayal teaches trust, nor how vulnerability and powerlessness are the real powers that bring about intimacy. But we see this when we look at the cross of Jesus. It is no wonder that so many people - millions, literally – wear a cross as a symbol of love, trust and hope. Unconsciously, they know, however dimly, what theology can never quite make clear to us: namely, that what divides us from each other can only be bridged by the cross of Christ, and that our hope for intimacy and community is not in ourselves but in an embrace that is beyond us. In a cross this is not understood, it’s seen- mystically, not rationally.”

Rolheiser, Ron, “The Passion and the Cross”, Franciscan Media, Cincinnati, 2015, p. 74