UPDATE: ANOTHER RECOGNIZED HOLY MAN FOR HAWAII

 

On April 23, Gov. Josh Green of Hawaii signed into law a bill that established April 27 of each year as Brother Joseph Dutton Day.

SERVANT of GOD JOSEPH DUTTON worked along side of St. Damien and St. Marianne of Molokai, who served those suffering with leprosy.

“Brother Joseph Dutton’s life is a powerful reminder of what it means to serve others with humility and compassion,” Gov. Green said.

Brother Joseph (called Brother, but he was not a religious)  was born in Stowe, Vermont., but grew up in Janesville, Wisconsin. He fought in the U.S. Civil War and later became a military captain with the 13th Wisconsin Volunteers. In 1886, recently converted to Catholicism, he traveled to Molokai to join St. Damien in his work. It was his way to atone for a failed marriage and the years of alcoholism that dogged him following the Civil War.

His work alongside Father Damien helped bring dignity, comfort and hope to those living in isolation. He quickly becoming skilled in caring for patients afflicted by Hansen’s disease and after Father Damien’s death in 1889, Brother Dutton continued managing the Baldwin Home for Boys, dedicating the remainder of his life to serving the residents of Kalaupapa.

“For 44 years Joseph Dutton was an important member of the Kalaupapa community, embracing aloha and compassion in giving of his life of service to the patients living during challenging times,” said Maria Devera, board president of the Joseph Dutton Guild. “It is fitting that we take time to recall and honor that life of service and take a moment and reflect on our call to service.”

“As state senator representing Molokai, this recognition is deeply meaningful to our community,” said Senator Lynn DeCoite. “Brother Joseph Dutton stood alongside the people of Kalaupapa during one of the most difficult chapters in our history, bringing care, dignity and hope to those who needed it most. Establishing April 27 as Brother Joseph Dutton Day ensures that his legacy and the strength and resilience of Kalaupapa will continue to be honored for generations to come.”

ART: The late artist , Dietrich Varez from the Big Island, created block prints of St. Damien and St. Marianne and “Brother” Joseph Dutton in his singular monochromatic style in 2013.  The print includes the American and Hawaiian flags in tribute to Brother Joseph’s patriotism and a desk, pen and paper in recognition of his prolific letter writing.

FAITHFUL SERVANT REMEMBERED

 

The canonization cause for our friend, Jesuit FATHER WALTER CISZEK, has been terminated, although the Vatican's decision does not "diminish the enduring spiritual value" of his witness, said a leading advocate for the cause (see Blogs: 3/15/2012, 4/28/2020).

"This development comes after years of careful study and discernment at the level of the Holy See, which bears the responsibility of evaluating each Cause with thoroughness, integrity, and fidelity to the Church's norms," said the diocese, which assumed responsibility for the cause following its initiation by the New Jersey-based Byzantine Catholic Eparchy of Passaic.

Father Ciszek was ordained a Jesuit priest in 1937, becoming the first American in the order in the Byzantine Catholic rite, one of the 23 Eastern Catholic churches that, along with the Roman Catholic Church, comprise the universal Catholic Church.

As a seminarian, he studied in Rome as part of an initiative under Pope Pius XI to equip priests for ministry in Russia. Originally assigned to Poland, he was able to enter Russia on false papers after World War II broke out in 1939 to minister in secret.

 Working as an unskilled laborer, he was arrested in 1941 by the secret police as a suspected spy and sentenced to 15 years of hard labor in Siberia. While in various prison camps, he managed to celebrate Mass and hear confessions.

 After his sentence ended in 1955, he was forced to reside in Russia, and worked in a chemical factory. After decades of no communication, he was at last able to write to his American family, who had presumed him dead.

 In 1963, President John F. Kennedy secured his release and that of an American student, exchanging them for two Soviet agents. Until his death in 1984, Father Ciszek worked at the John XXIII Center at Fordham University, which is now the Center for Eastern Christian Studies at the Jesuit-run University of Scranton in Pennsylvania.

 Father Ciszek recounted his experiences in the books He Leadeth Me and With God in Russia, co-written with fellow Jesuit Fr. Daniel Flaherty.

 Even as his canonization cause has been halted, Father Ciszek's impact lives on, said the diocese.

"While this news may understandably bring disappointment to the many who have been inspired by Father Ciszek's example of heroic faith, it does not diminish the enduring spiritual value of his life, witness, and legacy," the diocese said in its statement.

 "We are deeply grateful for the many years of prayer, devotion, and support from the faithful. Father Ciszek's courage, perseverance, and unwavering trust in God amidst extraordinary suffering has led many souls to God and will continue to touch countless lives," said the diocese. "Even as the formal canonization process has been stopped, the grace flowing from his witness remains alive."

The prayer league will now become the Father Walter J. Ciszek Society and "remain committed to honoring his memory, sharing his message, and encouraging devotion to the profound spiritual insights he left to the Church.

His beautiful prayer of surrender:

 Lord, Jesus Christ, I ask the grace to accept the sadness in my heart, as your will for me, in this moment. I offer it up, in union with your sufferings, for those who are in deepest need of your redeeming grace. I surrender myself to your Father’s will and I ask you to help me to move on to the next task that you have set for me.

Spirit of Christ, help me to enter into a deeper union with you. Lead me away from dwelling on the hurt I feel: to thoughts of charity for those who need my love, to thoughts of compassion for those who need my care, and to thoughts of giving to those who need my help.

As I give myself to you, help me to provide for the salvation of those who come to me in need. May I find my healing in this giving. May I always accept God’s will. May I find my true self by living for others in a spirit of sacrifice and suffering.

May I die more fully to myself, and live more fully in you. As I seek to surrender to the Father’s will, may I come to trust that he will do everything for me.

THANKS FOR BIRDS

 

                       Birds

That God made birds is surely in His favor.
I write them as His courtesies of love.
Hidden in leaves, they offer me sweet savor
of lightsome music; when they streak above

my garden wall they brush my scene with color.
They are embroideries upon the grass.
I write the gayest stitched-in blossoms duller
than birds which change their patterns as I pass.

I nurse a holy envy of St. Francis
who lured the birds to nestle at his breast.
Yet I am grateful for this one which dances
across my lawn, a reckless anapest.

Subjects for gratitude push up my living
praise to a sum that tempts the infinite;
but birds deserve one whole psalm of thanksgiving
and these words are my antiphon for it.

Jessica Powers (1956) (See Blog: June 23, 2022) 

Painting:   “Concert of Birds”,  Frans Snyders (1601), Flemish

MERCY FOR THE WORLD

 

Lord, You have passed over into new life, and You now invite us to pass over also.  In these past days we have grieved at Your suffering and mourned at Your death.  We have given ourselves over to repentance and prayer, to abstinence and gravity.  Now at Easter You tell us that we have died to sin.  Yet, if this is true, how can we remain on Earth?  How can we pass over to Your risen life, while we are still in this world?  Will we not be just as meddlesome, just as lazy, just as selfish as before?  Will we not still be bad-tempered and stubborn, enmeshed in all the vices of the past?  We pray that as we pass over with You, our faces will never look back.  Instead, let us, like You, make Heaven on Earth.   (St. Bernard of Clairvaux)

Eternal God, in Whom mercy is endless and the treasury of compassion — inexhaustible, look kindly upon us and increase Your mercy in us, that in difficult moments we might not despair nor become despondent, but with great confidence submit ourselves to Your holy will, which is Love and Mercy itself.

Art: Divine Mercy for the World, Stephen Whatley, England

THE MARYS

St.  John’s Gospel tells us, “Standing by the cross of Jesus were His mother and His mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary of Magdala” (Jn 19:25). These three Marys were special witnesses of the Lord’s death.

Because of their faithfulness, each of the three Marys were the first  witnesses of the Risen Christ. They symbolize, faith, hope, and love,  the theological virtues present in the Easter mystery.

In various Catholic countries, particularly in the Kingdom of Spain, the Philippines and Latin American countries, images of the three Marys (in Spanish Tres Marías) associated with the tomb are carried in Good Friday processions referred to by the word Penitencia (Spanish) or Panatà (Filipino for an act performed in fulfilment of a vow). They carry attributes or iconic accessories, chiefly enumerated as follows:

Santa Maria Jacobe (2024 Good Friday processions, Philippines)

Mary Cleopas (sometimes alternated with Mary Jacob) – holding a broom

Mary Salome – holding a thurible or censer

Mary Magdalene – holding an alabaster chalice or jar.

The Blessed Virgin Mary is not part of this group, as her title as Mater Dolorosa is reserved to a singular privilege in the procession.

A common pious practice sometimes alternates Mary Salome with Jacob, due to a popular belief that Salome, an elderly person at this time would not have had the energy to reach the tomb of Christ at the morning of resurrection, though she was present at the Crucifixion.

Art:   “The Marys at the Tomb;  Colin McChan, 1950

ON THE ROAD

 

Who are these disciples  on the road to Emaus? (Luke 24:13-35) Cleopas is named  in the Gospel, but the other remains a mystery. Tradition and scholars often identify her as Cleopas' wife, Mary.They most probably were traveling together, sorrowing, after the death of Jesus. It could also be another male disciple, such as Simon or Luke. 

The main message of this story after the resurrection of Jesus is twofold:   One never knows when and where the Lord will turn up and secondly, the risen Jesus is present with us even in times of doubt or disappointment. Even when we are blind to His presence, He stays with us. 

As with us, Jesus does not force Himself upon the disciples, but He waits to be invited to stay and share a meal, highlighting the importance of inviting Him into our own lives, especially as we receive Him in the Eucharist..

                                                   

Art: Amanda O Mcconnell  (USA)

THE GARDENER

 

“Tell Them” 

Breaking through the powers of darkness
bursting from the stifling tomb
he slipped into the graveyard garden
to smell the blossomed air.

Tell them, Mary, Jesus said,
that I have journeyed far
into the darkest deeps I’ve been
in nights without a star.

Tell them Mary, Jesus said,
that fear will flee my light
that though the ground will tremble
and despair will stalk the earth
I hold them firmly by the hand
through terror to new birth.

Tell them, Mary, Jesus said,
the globe and all that’s made
is clasped to God’s great bosom
they must not be afraid
for though they fall and die, he said,
and the black earth wrap them tight
they will know the warmth
of God’s healing hands
in the early morning light.

Tell them, Mary, Jesus said,
smelling the blossomed air,
tell my people to rise with me
to heal the Earth’s despair.

                            Edwina Gateley (USA)

Art:  "New Gardener",   Janpeter Muilwijk (Dutch, 1960–)  2017.

HE IS RISEN

 

“I who have died am alive again today, and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth day of life and love and wings: and of the gay great happening illimitably earth.”  e. e. cummings

If in that Syrian garden, ages slain,
You sleep, and know not you are dead in vain,
Nor even in dreams behold how dark and bright
Ascends in smoke and fire by day and night
The hate you died to quench and could but fan,
Sleep well and see no morning, son of man.

But if, the grave rent and the stone rolled by,
At the right hand of majesty on high
You sit, and sitting so remember yet
Your tears, your agony and bloody sweat,
Your cross and passion and the life you gave,
Bow hither out of Heaven and see and save.

A.E. Housman

 

Art: Julia Stankova, Bulgaria, 2014 

ENTOMBED

"Jesus, lying in the borrowed tomb, was at peace – His suffering was over, His love was consummated, every hour of darkness moved closer to the light, closer to the morning of resurrection, closer to the time when He would rise from the dead to live forever.  

In every life of every Christian there are countless resurrections – just as there are always many times when every Christian is buried with Christ.

In the soul of the sinner Christ dies many deaths and knows the glory of many resurrections

In the souls that have served Him faithfully, too, there are long periods that seem like death, periods of dryness of spirit when all the spiritual things that once interested them have become insufferably tedious and boring, when it is very difficult, even sometimes impossible, to say a prayer; when the sweetness has gone out of the love of God, when the soul seems bound in the iron bondage of the winter of the spirit like the seed held in iron of the black frozen earth in the wintertime.

 These are the winters of the spirit indeed!  But just as Christ suffered everything that all those who were to follow Him would suffer, all those “other Christs” who have come after Him have suffered, and will suffer in a spiritual sense, everything that He suffered in His human life on Earth.

One of these things is lying in the tomb, bound and restricted in the burial bands.  There come times in every life when the soul seems to be shut down, frostbound in the hard, ironbound winter of the spirit; times when it seems to be impossible to pray, impossible even to want to pray; when there seems to be only cold and darkness numbing the mind.

These indeed are the times when Christ is growing towards His flowering, towards His spring breaking in the soul – towards His ever-recurring resurrection in the world, towards His glorious resurrection in the hearts of men.

Again and again He has referred to Himself and to His divine life in us as seed buried in the earth, and so it is.  There are times when we experience no sweetness, no consolation, no visible sign of the presence and the growth of Christ in us; these above all other times are those in which Christ does in fact grow to His flowering in us.

There seems to be nothing that we can do in these times to honor God, but by ourselves there is nothing that we can do at any time.  In Christ we can do just what He did, remain quietly in the tomb, rest, and be at peace, trusting God to awaken us in His own good time to a springtime of Christ, to a sudden quickening and flowering and new realization of Christ-life in us.

 There are many deaths before the death of the body.  There are many, many resurrections, before that last eternal resurrection that will reunite our bodies and souls forever, to live forever full lives of love and endless bliss that will never be interrupted again.

All those little deaths of the spirit show us the mystery of that last death and that endless rising from the dead.

Death is not something to fear.  Fear will be over and done with when it comes.  Then the possibility of sin will be over, the danger of ever again being parted from Christ will be over, the pains and the desolations of body and soul on Earth will be over… We have nothing to fear. Christ has died each of our deaths for us.  He will be with us all, saint and sinner alike, in our rising from the dead. 

It is to each one of us that He spoke on the night before He died, saying, “Peace is my bequest to you, and the peace which I give you is mine to give; I do not give peace as the world gives it.  Do not let your heart be distressed, or play the coward,” (John 14:27). (Caryll Houselander)

Art: Andrea Mantegna (d. 1506), The Lamentatiom over the Dead Christ", Italian 

RELEASED

" They took His body down from the cross and laid it in His mother’s arms, and she held it upon her heart; and in it, all those Christs to come to whom she was mother now.

That first birth of Christ in Bethlehem was painless, because Mary, his mother, was sinless and He was the Son of God.  But this mysterious birth of Christ on Calvary began in the travail and agony of the whole world borne by one man and one woman, God-made-man and Mary, His mother: because this was the birth of Christ in us, Christ the redeemer born in the souls of sinners; and every sinner who would receive Him in all time became Mary’s child, even her only child; every sinner who would be indwelt by Christ was laid in Mary’s arms, and she received them all.

Mankind was born again.

 Already even in the agony of that night of sorrow, Mary, who had shared Christ’s passion shared His peace.  In the consummation of His pain, and her pain and suffering, she knew the beginning of the joy that would never end; she knew the birth of life in the souls of men that would be immortal life, never ending.  She knew the utter joy of experiencing the consummation of His love for men, and of loving them with all His love.

 She herself was indwelt by Him now as really as her body had been indwelt by His advent.  Now she who had given Him life would live His life forever; her life would be His, her words His words, her acts His acts; her heart beating, the beating of His heart 

She who had said long ago in Nazareth, “Let it be unto me according to thy word,” was the first of all human creatures since Christ was conceived to be one with Him.  She gave Him her life, and He gave her back her life in His forever.  He gave His life, too, to all those who would receive Him through the ages: “And I have given them the privilege which thou gavest to me, that they should all be one, as we are one; that while thou art in me, I may be in them, and so they may be perfectly made one,” (JohnJohn 17:22-23).

 As the dead Christ lay in His mother’s arms she laid to her heart all those sinners to whom He would give not only life but His own life: in baptism, that first stream of the waters of birth, cleansing and irrigating the souls; in the sacrament of penance, restoring the soul of the sinner to its primal innocence.  She saw them as God sees them.  No matter how battered and bruised they had been by sin, the innocence of Christ was restored to them, they were restored to His beauty; no matter how darkened their minds and hearts had been by evil and by the oppressive sadness that follows upon evil, they shone now with the purity, the glory, of Christ of Tabor, clothed in His loveliness that burns with the splendor of a fire of snow.  No matter how cynical and faded and old their sins had made them, they were restored to their childhood now, to Christ’s childhood.  Now they could possess the Kingdom of Heaven in a wild flower, a stream of water, or a star, and now in the body of Christ Mary took them, each of them as her only child, to her sinless heart.

And there from the summit of Calvary, at the foot of the cross with her dead child in her arms, Mary saw how in all the centuries to come Christ would be born again day after day, hour after hour, in the sacred Host.  She heard the multitudinous whisper of the words of consecration coming to her on Calvary from every part of the world, from every place on Earth: from the great cathedrals of the world; from the little village huts that are makeshift for churches; from the churches themselves, whether they were beautiful or cheap and tawdry; from the chapels and wards of hospitals; from prisons and from concentration camps; from the frozen forests of Siberia – from dawn till dusk, and from dusk till dawn, the words of consecration on the breath of men, and Jesus lifted up, as he had been lifted up on the cross, in the Sacred Host.

 And she saw, through the darkness that covered Calvary, how at all those Masses those who were to be her children and the children of God would flock to the altars to receive her son in the Host – little children clothed in the white muslin and gossamer of their First Communion clothes, old people leaning upon their sticks, young men and women who would carry Christ in their hearts to face and conquer the workaday world.

She saw, too, how he would be carried into prisons and hospitals and concentration camps, to be given to the lonely and the sick and the dying.  And how in all these people, in every one of them, sinners as well as saints, Christ, her son, would live again and overcome the world.

So it was that when Jesus was taken down from the cross, Mary received her dead son into her arms and took the whole world to her heart."  (Caryll Houselander)

 

DEATH

 

In Jesus’ passion and death, we see the suffering of the world, past and present. Our faith tells us that in our own suffering and death, which leads to the tomb, we will one day wake with Him in everlasting life.

 If anything, this walk with Christ during these days of sorrow, must reveal to us- and to a world that will listen- His infinite love for us. To paraphrase the refrain after each Station of the Cross: We adore You, O Christ, and we bless You, because You love us”. 

"As Christ died on the cross He drew all those to Himself who would die His death and enter with Him into the mysterious glory of it, all those who by dying would redeem other men: those whose lives seem to be failures, to be cut off before they have come to their flowering; those people who could have had brilliant careers, who could have benefited their fellow men immeasurably, but are cut off at the very beginning of manhood, or who die in childhood; deaths that seem to be nothing else but waste to which we cannot reconcile our hearts.

He identifies Himself with all the young men who would die in battle, all the men and women who would fall in the squander of destruction that is war, all those children who would die in innocence with the burning splendor of His purity still radiant in their souls, with His passion of love still whole and not frittered away.

 He identifies Himself with the old people who, when death comes, will think their lives were wasted, who will think that they have done nothing for God’s glory, taken no part in the world’s redemption, but who in reality are dying His death and saving the world in the power of His love.

 Christ on the cross is God and man, He is wholly human; He knows the utter desolation and loneliness of death as no other man will ever know it.  He knows the grief of leaving those whom He loves – His mother, His friends, Mary Magdalen who seems utterly dependent on Him.

 He feels abandoned by His Father.

He is dying all our deaths.  Death is too big a thing for any one of us to face alone.  It separates us, for a time, from those we love on Earth.  It is difficult for us Earthbound, rooted creatures to want Heaven; it is impossible for us to realize what the glory of God will be to us.  It is loving God, and that only, that can make Heaven, Heaven.  Here imagination does not help us: we cannot really imagine ourselves loving the “Supreme Spirit” – we even want to cling to our human frailties and comforts, to our human weakness

It is now that Christ takes over.  He has died all our deaths on the cross; now we are going to die His; it is Christ in us who surrenders to God.  It is not with our own heart and our own will that we can long for God, but with Christ’s.  And Christ has given His heart and will to us.  In this is the supreme mercy that comes to us in the hour of death.

“Father, into thy hands….”  We can say it with Christ’s love and trust in the Father.  “Father, into thy hands not only my spirit, my body and soul, but those people whom I love, and whom you love infinitely more than I 

Now I love God with Christ’s will, with Christ’s heart, with Christ’s trust; and because He has taken whole possession of me, in the hour of my death I shall at last love my friends too with His loveNot only will my suffering of mind and body, molten into His in the fire of His love, be the beginning of my blessed purgatory purifying me; it will also be Christ’s sacrifice on the cross offered for those whom I love.

Of each one surrendered wholly to Christ in the hour of death, we can say: “Greater love than this no man has, that he lays down his life for his friends.”  (Caryll Houselander)

Art:  Gianpaolo Berto- Italian

NAILS

 

“As Christ stretched out His beautiful craftsman’s hands and composed His blameless feet on the hard wood of the cross to receive the nails, He was reaching out to countless men through all time: as He stretched his body on that great tree that was to flower with His life forever, He gave Himself to be made one with all those who in every generation to come would willingly bind and fasten themselves irrevocably to the cross, for the love of God and the love of men.

 For all through time for those who love Christ and who want to be one with Him, love and the cross would be inseparable; but because Christ willed that He should be nailed to the cross Himself in His human nature, love will always predominate and redeem the suffering of the cross.

 As the three nails were driven home into the wood, fastening Him to it irrevocably, Christ gave Himself to all those men and women who in the years to come would nail themselves to His cross by the three vows of religion – poverty, chastity, and obedience; those wise ones who know the weakness of human nature, who know how easily the will can falter when the sweetness of the first consolation of prayer is over; how hard and bleak the winter of the spirit when its springtide and its summer and harvesting seem passed forever; how hard to go on faithfully clinging to the Christ life with only one’s own weak will to drive one.  Christ, receiving the nails, gave Himself to those men and women who would nail themselves by binding vows to Himself upon the cross, who would have the ability to remain true to their chosen life because their hands and feet are put into His hands and feet, and they are held onto the cross by the nails that held Him.

 He gave himself in that moment to all those men and women who would pledge themselves to Him and to one another with the vows in matrimony, the three blessed nails of human love safeguarding husbands and wives from the assaults of temptation in every circumstance of the world, the vows to love, honor, and obey.

He gave himself to all those converts who bind themselves to the laws of the church and all those Christians who persevere in the faith, nailed to it by their own baptismal vows, no matter what hardships it may involve them in; nailed to it willingly because they know well that without Christ they can do nothing, and that Christ in this world is inseparable from His cross.

And with what great tenderness, with what depths of understanding, Christ gave Himself in that hour on Calvary to all those whom He would indwell – Religious, married people, ordinary Christians, trying to adhere to Him, not through emotion, not through sentimentality, but by uniting their wills to His, and binding themselves irrevocably to him.  With what love He gave himself to them, knowing how they too would be considered to be fools, would be mocked, and even looked upon with distrust and anxiety by their own people – by those who loved them…

…Despite the fact that in many countries of the world today, to openly vow yourself to religion is to put your head into the noose, to invite persecution!

Not only would the Religious be thought to be fools, but those married men and women who were faithful and compelled themselves to be faithful to their three vows – whose love and whose fidelity to love is not that which the world of today can understand.

…To all these Christ reached out across the years when He was nailed to the cross.  He identified Himself with them; He accepted their limitations; He gave them His will.  For them as well as for Himself, His prayer was uttered forever: “Father, not my will but thy will be done.”     (Caryll Houselander)

 Art: Kevin Rolly, Los Angeles

LIKE THE ANGEL GABRIEL

 

Today, the the solemnity of the Annunciation, it is announced that the beatification of VENERABLE FULTON SHEEN will take place Sept. 24 in St. Louis. This day was chosen for the announcement  as the Archbishop  spent his life continuing the work of the Archangel Gabriel.

Due to the great number of people wanting to participate, St. Louis was chosen due to the close proximity to the Diocese of Peoria, where Archbishop Sheen was born, ordained, and first served as a priest. This city has an arena  (The Dome at America’s Center), large enough to hold the many who will come for  the celebration.

On March 6, 2014, the board of medical experts who advise the Congregation for the Causes of Saints unanimously approved a miracle of  Archbishop Sheen’s, in which a stillborn baby survived due to his intercession.

A MODEL FOR SUFFERING

As we continue through the stations of the Cross depicting the last days of Jesus' life and death, we consider the life of another man who offered his sufferings for the life of others.

VENEABLE FAUSTO GEI was born on March 24, 1927, in Brescia to Angelo and Maria Della Biasia. He earned his high school diploma from the Calini Scientific High School and enrolled in the Faculty of Medicine and Surgery at the University of Pavia. Becoming a doctor was his dream.

At the age of twenty, while completing his second year of university, he was struck by a mysterious illness. He diagnosed it himself, which was later confirmed as multiple sclerosis. He told his family, “It's a fatal disease. I don't know how long I'll last."

Abandoned by medical science, he clung to the hope of a miracle, going to Lourdes but was not cured.
Returning from the pilgrimage, he told someone: "I prayed for those who suffered more than me. I want to speak to those who suffer. I have not been able to help them as a doctor, I will do so as a sick person."

While his body gave way under the progression of his illness and his suffering increased day by day,, he portrayed serenity, and peace.

In 1955 he joined the Center for Volunteers of Suffering and gave one of the most profound definitions of the Association: "There are two attitudes that a soul can have when struck by suffering: that of the forced or that of the volunteer. Those forced to suffer are those who, in pain, curse, rebel, despair, without improving, but rather worsen their situation, which thus becomes more difficult and desolate, while in rebellion and sin every possibility of merit and comfort is extinguished, with the risk of transforming one's earthly unhappiness into eternal unhappiness. 

Volunteers to suffer, on the other hand, are those who, without making useless and vain comparisons with those who are "apparently" well and without getting lost in sterile regrets, accept the command of Jesus: "Whoever would come after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross daily and follow me." Souls who have learned from Faith the providential nature of pain, who believe in the love of God and trust in Him even when He puts them to the test, the Volunteers of Suffering agree to continue the Passion of Jesus within themselves, to give glory to the Lord, to sanctify themselves and to extend the fruits of Redemption to all their brothers, especially those most in need of divine mercy. In their submission to the Will of God and in the offering of their own pain, they experience joys and comforts that no earthly happiness can even remotely equal”.

Fausto wrote on 31 July 1956: “I believe I have found the secret of happiness. Despite the physical limitation that afflicts me, I am always serene because I am always happy with everything. The lack of normal activity (normal for men) does not deprive me of serenity. I cannot see my illness as an unjust punishment, but only as a means to reach the goal and to carry out God's plans”.  

He wrote in his spiritual testament: "We must help our brothers and sisters find the path that leads to God. This involves offering suffering and sacrifice, but remember that the key word is: Love, suffer, offer. The salvation of a soul is priceless, and our greatest consolation must be that of having brought it back to the Father's fold... Don't be afraid of some failure: in life you don't always have to win, the important thing is to fight. To do all this, you must ask Our Lady for help, abandoning yourself into her hands. Always remember her favorite prayer, the rosary. For me, it has been the weapon that has given me the best results, especially on days when the devil was most threatening me."

He wrote to Monsignor  Luigil Novarese* (Co-founder of the Apostolate of the Suffering): “I don’t want to be defeated and I want my spirit to always triumph. I am always serene because I am always happy with everything.” 

The monsignor replied: “Live your day, the hours of your day, next to the Most Holy Madonna. She, who has perfectly understood the mystery of suffering, will not fail to support you, guide you, and make you ever more active in your offering.”

Fausto died on March 27, 1968, at the age of 41. Pope Leo declared him Venerable on February 21, 2026.

* Monsignor Novarese was beatuified May 11,  2013.

STRIPPED

 

“Before He is nailed to the cross, Jesus gives us yet another overwhelming showing of His love, yet another proof of His identification with men in their bitterest humiliation: Jesus is stripped of His garments.

It is hard to bring oneself to reflect on this, yet it is necessary because of what every detail of this dreadful incident can mean to men today.  With all the wounds on His body, the wounds of the scourging, of the falls on the way to Calvary, of the heaviness and the roughness of the cross on His shoulder, Christ’s garments must have been stiff with blood and adhering to His body.  The soldiers would not have treated Him tenderly, although there is no reason to suppose they were fundamentally cruel.  They would undoubtedly have torn His clothes from Him as quickly as they could and as roughly as they must.  It would have been almost as if His skin was being torn off Him.

There, exposed in His nakedness, He stood in front of the whole mob – and, which must have been far harder to bear, in front of those whom He loved, His mother; John, His chosen friend; Mary Magdalen, who washed His feet with her tears.  He stood naked.

He was stripped there on the summit of Calvary not to reveal His sacred body in its perfection.  He was the fairest of the sons of men; no other men had ever had, or ever would have, a body approaching His in perfection; but it was exposed to the world only when it was disfigured by wounds and bruises, only when it was exhausted and almost falling to the ground with weariness.

Again Christ identified Himself with those whom He would indwell through all time.

He stood there naked in front of the world and in front of His Heavenly Father, identified with all those sinners who are found out, whose shame is made public, or, perhaps more terrible for them, shown to those whom they love and from whom, above all others, they would wish to keep it secret...

He stood there identified with everyone who loves, because everyone who loves must be known sooner or later as he is, without pretense, his soul stripped bare.  

Art: Glass, Albert Chavaz (d. 1990), Parish Church, Vercorin, Swiss Alps

THE NUN WITH THE SMILE

 

 

 

 

We continue with young people who died young, uniting their suffering with the suffering of Christ- our theme for this Lent.

SERVANT OF GOD SISTER CECILIA MARIA of the HOLY FACE was born in 1973 in San Martín de los Andes, Argentina as one of ten siblings in a military family. Despite the challenges of frequent relocations, she was deeply inspired by the faith she encountered through her family and education. Her calling to the Carmelite order began to take shape during her university years, when the writings of St. Teresa of Ávila awakened in her a desire for intimacy with Christ.

 A nurse by profession and a violinist, she stood out for her joy and ever-present smile. After a winding journey of discernment, including time in two other Carmelite communities, Cecilia María finally found her home in the Carmelite convent of Santa Fe. There, she embraced the contemplative life with a warmth and humanity that would become her hallmark.

 In her time living at the monastery, she played the violin and was known for her sweetness. In late 2015, during the Advent season and the Jubilee Year of Mercy, Sister Cecilia María received a devastating diagnosis: cancer of the tongue, with metastasis to a lymph node. Despite the pain and grueling treatments, she exuded a sense of peace that astonished those around her. During this difficult time, she continued to pray and offer up her sufferings, convinced that she was close to her encounter with God.

  A poignant image of her, lying in a hospital bed with a serene smile on her face, went viral shortly before her death in June 2016. The photo encapsulated her ability to radiate hope and beauty even in the face of profound suffering. In one of her final letters to her family, she wrote, “I feel the pain growing, but I am not alone. Together, we will follow the Lamb.”

Those who knew Sister Cecilia María describe her as a beacon of joy and empathy. Her smile, often visible even in her final days of suffering, became a symbol of her profound spiritual peace. “She had the gift of connecting with people,” recalls Sister Fabiana Guadalupe Retamal, a fellow Carmelite. “Even in her hardest moments, her smile came from the depths of her heart. It wasn’t forced—it was a reflection of her trust in God.”

In the final weeks of her illness, her condition worsened, and she had to be hospitalized. From her bed, she never stopped praying and offering up her sufferings, with the certainty that her encounter with God was near.

 She wrote her last wish on a piece of paper: “I was thinking about how I would like my funeral to be. First, some intense prayer, and then a great celebration for everyone. Don't forget to pray, but don't forget to celebrate either!”

 She passed to the Lord in Buenos Aires in the early hours of June 23, 2016. Sister Cecilia Maria’s death, her life, and her smile were a testimony to happiness. Our Lord assured us that the world would know we are Christians by our love.

In January 2025, the archbishop of Santa Fe de la Vera Cruz in Argentina, Sergio Fenoy, decreed the beginning of the cause for beatification and canonization.

 In 2024, when signing the edict to begin the process prior to the cause, the prelate highlighted the witness of the nun’s “love and trust in Jesus Christ, even in the midst of the most difficult trials,” assuring that “she has awakened in many hearts the desire for a greater commitment to Christian life.”

 We continue with young people who died young, uniting their suffering with the suffering of Christ- our theme for this Lent.

LAST FALL

"This is the worst fall of all.  It comes at the worst moment of all.  It tears open all the wounds in his body; the shock dispels the last ounce of strength that he had mustered to go on.  It shatters the last hope, the last remnant of faith, in nearly everyone in the crowd.  It is triumph for his enemies, heartbreak for his friends. 

The effect on the crowd is terrible.  From having been an object of compassion, of admiration, he has become an object of contempt.  Hope has given way to despair, struggling faith to bitterness and derision: “He has saved others, himself he cannot save!”

Now Christ gets up, he does not turn his head, he does not heed the disappointment of the crowd.  He gets up, weaker than he has ever been, almost too exhausted to go on, all the old wounds open and bleeding; more abject than he has ever been, a greater disappointment to his followers than he has ever been, in their eyes a complete failure.  He gets up and goes on; lays his beautiful hands, those hands of a carpenter, on the wood of the cross for the last time, and without looking round begins the ascent to the summit of Calvary.

The last fall is the worst fall.  In it Christ identified himself with those who fall again and again, and who get up again and again and go on – those who even after the struggle of a lifetime fall when the end is in sight; those who in this last fall lose the respect of many of their fellow men, but who overcome their humiliation and shame; who, ridiculous in the eyes of men, are beautiful in the eyes of God, because in Christ, with Christ’s courage, in his heroism, they get up and go on, climbing the hill of Calvary.

In the third fall, the showing of Christ’s love is this: He does not indwell only the virtuous, only those who are successful in overcoming temptation, only those who are strong and in whom his power is made manifest to the world; he chooses to indwell those who seem to fail, those who fall again and again, those who seem to be overcome even when the end is in sight.  In them, if they will it, he abides; in them he overcomes weakness and failure, in them he triumphs; and in his power they can persevere to the end, abject before men but glorious with Christ’s glory before God." (Caryll Houselander) 

Art: Jan Toroop (d. 1928)  Dutch