St. Catherine of Siena: Letter to a Layman

Today, April 29^th, is St. Catherine of Siena’s feast day.  As you may know, she is the patron saint of this blog and my personal patron saint.

The magazine Magnificat has a meditation with today’s Mass readings by St. Catherine for her feast day.  The meditation is an excerpt of one of her letters, one of 380 letters that have survived.  The magazine does not give any details of the letter, so I looked through my volumes of her letters and after an hour of searching I found it!  The letter can be found in Volume 1 of the four volume complete collection of her letters titled, The Letters of Catherine of Siena, translated and annotated by Suzanne Noffke, O. P.  It is a magisterial collection that is a prize in my library.

So the letter is identified as T60, written in the summer of 1375 from Catherine’s stay in Pisa.  The addressee is unidentified and Sister Noffke deduces from the comments in the letter that he is a layman and a parent.  Catherine exhorts him to keep the commandments and embrace the virtues.  Her image two wings is as striking as is the image earlier in the letter of the fountain sprinkling out the blood of Jesus.  Here is the excerpt as published in Magnificat.

 

I long to see you a true servant of Jesus Christ, an observer of his commandments.  No one can have the life of grace who is not the keeper of those commandments….Once we see that of ourselves we are nothing at all, we are completely humbled at the knowledge of what our benefactor has done for us.  We so grow in love when we recognize God’s great goodness at work in us that we would rather die than transgress our dear Creator’s command.  This holy trembling brings us to tremendous love, a love we draw from the fountain of the blood of God’s Son, which was shed for our redemption just to wash away the guilt of sin….

 

I beg you then to make use of these two wings that will help you keep God’s commandments and, once you have managed the commandments, will enable you to fly into everlasting life.  The first wing is hatred and contempt for sin and for selfish self-love, the source of every vice.  The second wing is being the lover of virtue.  Once we see that virtue is essential for us, we love it; we see God wants us to be lovers of virtue and despisers of vice.  Oh how sweet it will be for you to have this virtue!  It frees you from slavery to the devil and gives you liberty, delivers you from death and gives you life, relieves you of darkness and gives you light.  Sin is just the opposite: it leads one into every sort of misery.

 

I beg you, for love of Christ crucified, let your soul’s eye be directed toward God in all that you do.  Oh what great joy and happiness you will feel when the time comes for you to be called by First Truth, knowing you are in company of the virtues, supported by the staff of the most holy cross from which you have learned God’s holy commandments!  And you will hear at the end those sweet words: Come, my blessed son, and possess the kingdom of heaven, because you conscientiously cast aside desire and affection for conformity to the world, and reared and nurtured your family in holy fear of me.  Now I am giving you perfect rest, for I am the one who repays you for all you have suffered for me (cf. Mt 25:34).

She ends with a quote from Matthew’s Gospel, chapter 25, where Jesus where Jesus welcomes onto the kingdom those who taken care of the least but improvises her ow theology onto it.  This is so Catherinian.  We do keep the commandments for love of God because God has done so much for us, including the shedding of the blood of His beloved Son.  And the great sin, the sin that leads to all other sins, she identifies as “self-love,” that is, selfishness.  She is just brilliant.

Happy Feast of St. Catherine of Siena.

###

Monday is my Adult Faith Formation class and we’ve been reading Sigrid Undset’s biography of St. Catherine.  I have covered this book extensively here on the blog.  Since Catherine’s feast day fell on a Monday night class, we had a little celebration.  I brought in black and white cookies, the colors of the Dominican Order.  Fr. Eugene, our pastor, had a cake ordered and we had a special writing on top of the cake. 

 

Beloved Catherine, I hope you’re smiling on us.  Pray for us.

Sunday Meditation: The True Vine

On the fifth Sunday of Easter in Year B, we get another “I Am” passage from the Gospel of John.  Today we get one of my favorites, the pruning of the grapevine in John’s chapter 15.  This is one of my favorite passages because right around this time of year I am pruning my own grapevine.  As it so happens, I pruned last week, a little late in the season, but it’s tough to find a day.  Every year as I prune I mutter “I am the vine, and you are the branches!”  And just as I snip the dead wood and the long extended vines that will not bear fruit, so Jesus says His Father will prune as well.

 

Jesus said to his disciples:

"I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine grower.

He takes away every branch in me that does not bear fruit,

and every one that does he prunes so that it bears more fruit.

You are already pruned because of the word that I spoke to you.

Remain in me, as I remain in you.

Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own

unless it remains on the vine,

so neither can you unless you remain in me.

I am the vine, you are the branches.

Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit,

because without me you can do nothing.

Anyone who does not remain in me

will be thrown out like a branch and wither;

people will gather them and throw them into a fire

and they will be burned.

If you remain in me and my words remain in you,

ask for whatever you want and it will be done for you.

By this is my Father glorified,

that you bear much fruit and become my disciples."

~Jn 15:1-8

Notice, Jesus doesn’t just say “I am the vine,” He says “I am the true vine.”  So let’s unpack the metaphor.  God the father is the gardener who prunes; Jesus is the vine; we who are in Him are the branches; the fruit are the good works we do to glorify the Father.  Here are some visuals from my vine.

The vine is the stem and the main vertical branches.  You can see it growing against my fence.

You can see the branches growing off the vine trained to go up toward my deck.

And here’s a top view where you can see the blossoming leaves. 

The fruit will come later in the summer.  I love gardening, but I think the most difficult of my gardening activities is pruning and maintaining a grapevine. 

Dr. Brant Pitre will explain the theology of this passage.

 

That is a great apologetics comment by Dr. Pitre at the end.  Make sure you listen to the end.  I also like Jeff Cavins more pastoral application of the passage.  It’s short enough to include.

Sunday Meditation: "Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless you remain in me.”

And another John Michael Talbot song appropriate for the reading.

 

Oh how lovely!

Quo Vadis: A Narrative of the Time of Nero by Henryk Sienkiewicz, Part 8

 

This is the eighth post of Henryk Sienkiewicz’s historical novel, Quo Vadis.

You can find Post #1 here.  

Post #2, here. 

Post #3 here.  

Post #4 here. 

Post #5 here. 

Post #6 here.  

Post #7 here. 

 

Chapters 50 thru 56

Summary

After Petronius returns to his home, which out of fortune had been spared from the fire.  He is convinced his life will be taken by Nero, and he weighs the moral depravity of his enemies.  If his life must end, he concludes he will do what he can to save Vinicius and Lygia.  He tells Vinicius what transpired at Nero’s, and impels him to go save Lygia before she is rounded up.  He is also determined to stifle the plans of Tigellinus and Nero.  Petronius rests with Eunice, who he will dearly miss when his life is taken.  A centurion arrives with a letter from Caesar, an invitation to listen to Nero’s new composition.  The centurion also tells him he’s on the way to round up Christians for the games.  Petronius goes off to listen to Caesar and he and Tigellinus are clearly in tension.  But Petronius as the great arbiter of elegance is back to his advantage listening to Nero’s composition.  On the way back he stops at Vinicius’ home.  Through the streets he hears the chants of “To the Lions the Christians.”  Vinicius is home in a desperate mood.  He did not reach Lygia in time.  She has been carted to the prison.  He and Petronius decide to go to the prison.  On the way, Petronius kills an abusive drunk, and from Petronius’s familiarity with the guards they are led in where the Christians are singing hymns.

For the games, an enormous wooden amphitheater is being built.  Wild animals are sought from within and beyond the empire and then caged in Rome.  Christians are being violently rounded up across the city.  Petronius has Acte visit Lygia in prison where she brings Lygia clothing and food.  Guards are bribed to prevent Lygia from being raped and other violence.  Nero is fixated on providing the greatest spectacle ever seen in Rome.  Vinicius does all he can to save Lygia, bribing everyone in the prison.  He even wants to beg Caesar but Petronius advises against it.  It would only harden Nero’s heart further.  Vinicius offers himself as a sacrifice to Christ and cannot understand why Christ would let this tragedy happen.

Everything Vinicius attempts in trying to save Lygia fails.  Finally the amphitheater’s construction is complete.  It is finally coming to a head.  The prisons are overfilled with Christians and disease was spreading.  Vinicius passed whole nights outside the prison, kneeling and praying.  He finds out that Peter was not imprisoned and where he is staying.  He goes to Peter and finds him praying with other Christians.  Vinicius asks where is Christ in this evil?  Peter tries to comfort everyone and strengthened them with his prayers.  Peter reminds them that Christ was crucified, and yet he rose from the dead.  Raising his hands and his eyes fixed into a vision, Peter continues to pray and bless.  When he finishes, Vinicius falls to his knees at Peter’s feet and implores him to pray for Lygia.  He offers his life to spare her’s. 

After, Vinicius once again goes to the prison, this time with new hope from the power of prayer.  He finds out that Lygia has taken ill and that one of the Pretorian guards is a Christian himself.  Filled with a little more hope, Vinicius goes to Petronius’s house.  Petronius tells him of an incident that happened that day at Nero’s.  Poppaea had brought her child from a previous marriage to Nero performance, and the boy fell asleep in the middle of it.  Nero hurled a goblet at the boy and injured him.  Petronius believes that he and Poppaea can come to an agreement, Petronius saving her son Rufius if she saves Lygia.  The first of the games are scheduled in ten days, so there is a little time to work the deal.  In the meantime, Lygia is with fever, which has spared her from being defiled.  Vinicius writes a letter to Lygia and delivers it himself to the prison.  He spends another night outside where he has a terrible dream.  When he wakes, he finds a retinue with Chilo at the center.  Chilo has been highly rewarded and is an aristocrat himself now.  Vinicius accuses him of betraying Lygia, and Chilo responds that when he was in need Vinicius had him flogged.

Lygia writes back to Vinicius, telling him no matter what happens she will always be his.  She does not fear what might happen to her.  Vinicius writes back that he will go every day to the walls of the prison and that he believes Christ will save her.  Petronius meets with Poppaea, who he finds caring for Rufius who is now in a fever.  He proposes the deal to her, and she says the only way to convince Nero to release Lygia is for the head Vestal Virgin to persuade Caesar.  Poppaea leaves that evening to go to the Virgin, but when she was out two hired men carried out Nero’s orders to strangle the boy and toss his body into the sea.  When Poppaea returns and finds the boy disappeared, she screams in agony.

The day of the Morning Games is here but these games will last all day given all the Christians that need to be killed.  The amphitheater is packed, and the audience is amazed at the sound of the Christians singing hymns.  Vinicius ventures down to the Christian cell where he finds many sewn into animal skins to be attacked by the wild animals.  He finds Crispus there preaching repentance for their upcoming day of wrath.  Two well-known gladiators were to open the games with a match.  In the fight one makes a misstep and falls and asks for mercy.  Nero, having lost previously with this gladiator refuses mercy, and the gladiator is killed.  Next small armies of soldiers fight battles, and there is so much killing that the bodies are piled up and the blood runs across the entire arena.  The audience is enthralled with the bloodbath.  Chilo, on the other hand, not used to these games is repulsed by the slaughter.  The Romans laugh at his innocence.  Next the Christians are up to be slaughtered.  They are led out dressed in animal skins, women with children and unarmed men.  They kneel in prayer and look to heaven.  Wild dogs are let loose upon them and they tear human flesh limb from limb and satiate themselves on the carcasses.  Up above in the elevated section, Peter has been snuck in and, visibly moved, prays and blesses the martyrs below.  Chilo watching flesh being torn off bodies faints from the revulsion.  The lions were to be kept for the next day, but the audience in their bloodlust call for them now.  Nero wishing to please and with more Christians on hand he gives the order to let the lions in.  The lions storm the arena and gorge on the Christians.  Blood is everywhere.  Nero then lets all the wild beasts enter, and the spectacle becomes an orgy of blood.  To clear the arena, Nero orders archers to kill the animals after all the Christians have been slaughtered.  Bodies of Christians and beasts cover the arena.  After the bodies are cleared, Nero steps down into the arena and with his harp sings his composition.  Peter up above is seen crying.

At evening while the crowds are departing, Nero disappointed at not being praised for his song asks Petronius why the song was not appreciated.  Petronius explains it was the wrong time and place, the crowd gorged on the bloodbath.  Still he compliments the song and mentions a line that needs improving.  Chilo, recovered, obsequiously compliments Nero’s song.  They all talk about the Christians that in their dying moments are looking as if in a vision toward heaven.  Petronius and Vinicius depart and they find Nazarius, the son of Miriam, at Vinicius’s home.  He confirms that Lygia is still in prison, ill from fever, and he has been assigned to load caskets of the dead.  Petronius comes up with a plan to place Lygia, simulating being dead, into a casket and have her taken out with the dead, where Vinicius will take her out of the casket.  That evening they try the plan and as they wait for the procession Nazarius comes up to say she was taken to another prison, the Esquiline dungeons, before they could put her in the casket.

###

Michelle Comment:

It was even more striking having St. Peter witness this.

Kerstin Comment:

The scenes in the arena are hard to read. So much blood and gore.

###

The first excerpt from these chapters is from chapter 51 where we see the frenzy the Roman people were seized with against the scapegoated Christians as they wanted to purify themselves of whatever malediction the gods had given them. 

 

The cry, "Christians to the lions!" was heard increasingly in every part of the city. At first not only did no one doubt that they were the real authors of the catastrophe, but no one wished to doubt, since their punishment was to be a splendid amusement for the populace. Still the opinion spread that the catastrophe would not have assumed such dreadful proportions but for the anger of the gods; for this reason "piacula," or purifying sacrifices, were commanded in the temples. By advice of the Sibylline books, the Senate ordained solemnities and public prayer to Vulcan, Ceres, and Proserpina. Matrons made offerings to Juno; a whole procession of them went to the seashore to take water and sprinkle with it the statue of the goddess. Married women prepared feasts to the gods and night watches. All Rome purified itself from sin, made offerings, and placated the Immortals. Meanwhile new broad streets were opened among the ruins. In one place and another foundations were laid for magnificent houses, palaces, and temples. But first of all they built with unheard-of haste an enormous wooden amphitheatre in which Christians were to die. Immediately after that consultation in the house of Tiberius, orders went to consuls to furnish wild beasts. Tigellinus emptied the vivaria of all Italian cities, not excepting the smaller ones. In Africa, at his command, gigantic hunts were organized, in which the entire local population was forced to take part. Elephants and tigers were brought in from Asia, crocodiles and hippopotamuses from the Nile, lions from the Atlas, wolves and bears from the Pyrenees, savage hounds from Hibernia, Molossian dogs from Epirus, bisons and the gigantic wild aurochs from Germany. Because of the number of prisoners, the games were to surpass in greatness anything seen up to that time. Cæsar wished to drown all memory of the fire in blood, and make Rome drunk with it; hence never had there been a greater promise of bloodshed.

 

The willing people helped guards and pretorians in hunting Christians. That was no difficult labor for whole groups of them camped with the other population in the midst of the gardens, and confessed their faith openly. When surrounded, they knelt, and while singing hymns let themselves be borne away without resistance. But their patience only increased the anger of the populace, who, not understanding its origin, considered it as rage and persistence in crime. A madness seized the persecutors. It happened that the mob wrested Christians from pretorians, and tore them to pieces; women were dragged to prison by the hair; children's heads were dashed against stones. Thousands of people rushed, howling, night and day through the streets. Victims were sought in ruins, in chimneys, in cellars. Before the prison bacchanalian feasts and dances were celebrated at fires, around casks of wine.

 

In the evening was heard with delight bellowing which was like thunder, and which sounded throughout the city. The prisons were overflowing with thousands of people; every day the mob and pretorians drove in new victims. Pity had died out. It seemed that people had forgotten to speak, and in their wild frenzy remembered one shout alone: "To the lions with Christians!" Wonderfully hot days came, and nights more stifling than ever before; the very air seemed filled with blood, crime, and madness.

 

And that surpassing measure of cruelty was answered by an equal measure of desire for martyrdom,—the confessors of Christ went to death willingly, or even sought death till they were restrained by the stern commands of superiors. By the injunction of these superiors they began to assemble only outside the city, in excavations near the Appian Way, and in vineyards belonging to patrician Christians, of whom none had been imprisoned so far. It was known perfectly on the Palatine that to the confessors of Christ belonged Flavius, Domitilla, Pomponia Græcina, Cornelius Pudens, and Vinicius. Cæsar himself, however, feared that the mob would not believe that such people had burned Rome, and since it was important beyond everything to convince the mob, punishment and vengeance were deferred till later days. Others were of the opinion, but erroneously, that those patricians were saved by the influence of Acte. Petronius, after parting with Vinicius, turned to Acte, it is true, to gain assistance for Lygia; but she could offer him only tears, for she lived in oblivion and suffering, and was endured only in so far as she hid herself from Poppæa and Cæsar.

###

The second excerpt comes from chapter 50, the start of the Morning Games.  After opening the ceremonies and a gladiatorial bout which ended in a thumbs-down death dictum from Nero, the Christians are led into the amphitheater covered in animal hides.  Wild dogs are let in for the slaughter of the kneeling and praying Christians.

 

The turn of the Christians was at hand. But since that was a new spectacle for people, and no one knew how the Christians would bear themselves, all waited with a certain curiosity. The disposition of the audience was attentive but unfriendly; they were waiting for uncommon scenes. Those people who were to appear had burned Rome and its ancient treasures. They had drunk the blood of infants, and poisoned water; they had cursed the whole human race, and committed the vilest crimes. The harshest punishment did not suffice the roused hatred; and if any fear possessed people's hearts, it was this: that the torture of the Christians would not equal the guilt of those ominous criminals.

 

Meanwhile the sun had risen high; its rays, passing through the purple velarium, had filled the amphitheatre with blood-colored light. The sand assumed a fiery hue, and in those gleams, in the faces of people, as well as in the empty arena, which after a time was to be filled with the torture of people and the rage of savage beasts, there was something terrible. Death and terror seemed hovering in the air. The throng, usually gladsome, became moody under the influence of hate and silence. Faces had a sullen expression.

 

Now the prefect gave a sign. The same old man appeared, dressed as Charon, who had called the gladiators to death, and, passing with slow step across the arena amid silence, he struck three times again on the door.

 

Throughout the amphitheatre was heard the deep murmur,—

 

"The Christians! the Christians!"

 

The iron gratings creaked; through the dark openings were heard the usual cries of the scourgers, "To the sand!" and in one moment the arena was peopled with crowds as it were of satyrs covered with skins. All ran quickly, somewhat feverishly, and, reaching the middle of the circle, they knelt one by another with raised heads. The spectators, judging this to be a prayer for pity, and enraged by such cowardice, began to stamp, whistle, throw empty wine-vessels, bones from which the flesh had been eaten, and shout, "The beasts! the beasts!" But all at once something unexpected took place. From out the shaggy assembly singing voices were raised, and then sounded that hymn heard for the first time in a Roman amphitheatre, "Christus regnat!" ["Christ reigns!"]

 

Astonishment seized the spectators. The condemned sang with eyes raised to the velarium. The audience saw faces pale, but as it were inspired. All understood that those people were not asking for mercy, and that they seemed not to see the Circus, the audience, the Senate, or Cæsar. "Christus regnat!" rose ever louder, and in the seats, far up to the highest, among the rows of spectators, more than one asked himself the question, "What is happening, and who is that Christus who reigns in the mouths of those people who are about to die?" But meanwhile a new grating was opened, and into the arena rushed, with mad speed and barking, whole packs of dogs,—gigantic, yellow Molossians from the Peloponnesus, pied dogs from the Pyrenees, and wolf-like hounds from Hibernia, purposely famished; their sides lank, and their eyes bloodshot. Their howls and whines filled the amphitheatre. When the Christians had finished their hymn, they remained kneeling, motionless, as if petrified, merely repeating in one groaning chorus, "Pro Christo! Pro Christo!" The dogs, catching the odor of people under the skins of beasts, and surprised by their silence, did not rush on them at once. Some stood against the walls of the boxes, as if wishing to go among the spectators; others ran around barking furiously, as though chasing some unseen beast. The people were angry. A thousand voices began to call; some howled like wild beasts; some barked like dogs; others urged them on in every language. The amphitheatre was trembling from uproar. The excited dogs began to run to the kneeling people, then to draw back, snapping their teeth, till at last one of the Molossians drove his teeth into the shoulder of a woman kneeling in front, and dragged her under him.

 

Tens of dogs rushed into the crowd now, as if to break through it. The audience ceased to howl, so as to look with greater attention. Amidst the howling and whining were heard yet plaintive voices of men and women: "Pro Christo! Pro Christo!" but on the arena were formed quivering masses of the bodies of dogs and people. Blood flowed in streams from the torn bodies. Dogs dragged from each other the bloody limbs of people. The odor of blood and torn entrails was stronger than Arabian perfumes, and filled the whole Circus.

 

At last only here and there were visible single kneeling forms, which were soon covered by moving squirming masses.

Sunday Meditation: The Good Shepherd Among the Sheep

The fourth Sunday of Easter is assigned to be The Good Shepherd Sunday.  In each of the three years of the liturgical calendar we get a Gospel reading from chapter ten of John’s Gospel where Jesus uses the extended metaphor of being a Good Shepherd.  In Year A we get the metaphor of Jesus being the gatekeeper of the sheep pen.  In Year C we get the metaphor of sheep hearing the Shepherd’s voice.  But we are in Year B, where the metaphor of the Good Shepherd protecting His sheep, even laying down His life for the sheep.

 

Jesus said:

"I am the good shepherd.

A good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.

A hired man, who is not a shepherd

and whose sheep are not his own,

sees a wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away,

and the wolf catches and scatters them.

This is because he works for pay and has no concern for the sheep.

I am the good shepherd,

and I know mine and mine know me,

just as the Father knows me and I know the Father;

and I will lay down my life for the sheep.

I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold.

These also I must lead, and they will hear my voice,

and there will be one flock, one shepherd.

This is why the Father loves me,

because I lay down my life in order to take it up again.

No one takes it from me, but I lay it down on my own.

I have power to lay it down, and power to take it up again.

This command I have received from my Father."

~Jn 10:11-18

Again this week Bishop Barron has the best homily that I could find on this reading, but this time it’s with a little help from Pope Francis.

As Bishop Barron points out, the word “pastor” is an import from Latin.  From Online Etymology Dictionary: 

 

pastor (n.)

late 14c. (mid-13c. as a surname), "shepherd, one who has care of a flock or herd" (a sense now obsolete), also figurative, "spiritual guide, shepherd of souls, a Christian minister or clergyman," from Old French pastor, pastur "herdsman, shepherd" (12c.) and directly from Latin pastor "shepherd," from pastus, past participle of pascere "to lead to pasture, set to grazing, cause to eat," from PIE root *pa- "to feed; tend, guard, protect."

 

The spiritual sense was in Church Latin (e.g. Gregory's "Cura Pastoralis"). The verb in the Christian sense is from 1872.

That the verb use is only from 1872 is rather surprising.  You would think a verb would have formed from the noun rather quickly. 

Pope Francis’s three functions of a shepherd is rather interesting.  In the front, in the midst, and behind the flock.  I think one can see it implied by Jesus in the Gospel reading.

Sunday Meditation: "I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold.  These also I must lead, and they will hear my voice, and there will be one flock, one shepherd.”

What do you think Jesus means by that?

John Michael Talbot has a number of songs with shepherd themes.  I will select “I Am The Good Shepherd.”

 

Music Tuesday: Imagine (by John Lennon) But the Fr. Francis Version

You know the John Lennon original, “Imagine.”  He and his wife Yoko Ono wrote it and produced it in 1971.  It’s a good song but one that irritates me.  While it imagines a world of peace and materiality, it also imagines a world without religion, as if religion were the cause of unrest.  It has become an anthem for atheists.  Here are the lyrics.

 

 

Imagine there's no heaven

It's easy if you try

No hell below us

Above us only sky

Imagine all the people

Living for today... Aha-ah...

 

Imagine there's no countries

It isn't hard to do

Nothing to kill or die for

And no religion, too

Imagine all the people

Living life in peace... You...

 

You may say I'm a dreamer

But I'm not the only one

I hope someday you'll join us

And the world will be as one

 

Imagine no possessions

I wonder if you can

No need for greed or hunger

A brotherhood of man

Imagine all the people

Sharing all the world... You...

 

You may say I'm a dreamer

But I'm not the only one

I hope someday you'll join us

And the world will live as one

What’s silly about the song is to expect that peace and disparity can only come by the removal of religion from the culture.  While it’s true there are some religions that promote violence and selfishness, the only way that peace and prosperity can come is through Christianity, true and self-sacrificing Christianity.  We who are Christians know this.

Along comes Fr. Francis Maple OFMCap, a Franciscan Capuchin friar from England who has recorded many Christian hymns and written quite a few books which can be found on Amazon.  Keeping with good Franciscan humility, Fr. Francis doesn’t say much about himself on his website, which contains a wealth of Catholic information and his homilies.  If you go to YouTube and search his name, you will come up with a whole host of videos of his recordings. 

I came across Fr. Francis’s music from the Time for Reflections blog, authored by Victor S E Moubarak, who is a frequently comments on my blog and I sometimes comment on his.  I have highlighted a couple of Victor’s books on my blog: The Priest and the Prostitute and his collection of short stories, Feline Catastrophes.  Both are very funny.

Occasionally Victor, who has known Fr. Francis for a long time, embeds Fr. Francis’s song videos on Time for Reflections.  I never thought about asking if Fr. Francis was a real person.  Victor is great at creating characters (such as Fr. Ignatius, who is a fictional character in several of Victor’s novels and stories) and I jumped to the erroneous conclusion that Fr. Francis was another creation and that it was Victor himself singing in those Fr. Francis’s videos.  Well Victor set me straight when he posted Fr. Francis’s version of John Lennon’s Imagine, and I asked about Fr. Francis.  Fr. Francis Maple is real! 

So I want to share Fr. Francis’s version of Imagine.  Of course it is the opposite of an atheist’s day dream.

 

Father Francis changes are just in the first two stanzas.  Here is what Fr. Francis did with the lyrics.

 

Imagine there's a heaven

It's easy if you try

There’s a hell below us

You’d better choose before you die

Imagine all the people

Finding the right way... Aha-ah...

 

Imagine there's no countries

It isn't hard to do

Nothing to kill or die for

The love of God shines through

Imagine all the people

Living life in peace... You...

Now that is so much more appealing than the original version.  It eliminates the distasteful part of the song and makes God shine through!  Now whenever I come across the original Imagine, I will remember the Fr. Francis version.  Thank you Father Francis!

Sunday Meditation: After the Road to Emmaus

We all recall the Road to Emmaus passage where two disciples, on the road to Emmaus having just come from Jerusalem where Christ was crucified, encounter the Risen Christ, do not recognize Him, walk with Him while He explains the scriptural passages of the Messiah, and finally recognize in the breaking of the bread whereupon He vanishes.   That’s in Luke 24:13-34.  Today’s Gospel reading continues that story with what happens afterward.  Those same two disciples rush back to Jerusalem to tell the others what happened.

 

The two disciples recounted what had taken place on the way,

and how Jesus was made known to them

in the breaking of bread.

 

While they were still speaking about this,

he stood in their midst and said to them,

"Peace be with you."

But they were startled and terrified

and thought that they were seeing a ghost.

Then he said to them, "Why are you troubled?

And why do questions arise in your hearts?

Look at my hands and my feet, that it is I myself.

Touch me and see, because a ghost does not have flesh and bones

as you can see I have."

And as he said this,

he showed them his hands and his feet.

While they were still incredulous for joy and were amazed,

he asked them, "Have you anything here to eat?"

They gave him a piece of baked fish;

he took it and ate it in front of them.

 

He said to them,

"These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you,

that everything written about me in the law of Moses

and in the prophets and psalms must be fulfilled."

Then he opened their minds to understand the Scriptures.

And he said to them,

"Thus it is written that the Christ would suffer

and rise from the dead on the third day

and that repentance, for the forgiveness of sins,

would be preached in his name

to all the nations, beginning from Jerusalem.

You are witnesses of these things."

~Lk 24:36-48

So Jesus appears to all of them as the two from the road to Emmaus meetup with the other disciples.  And just as in last week’s reading of Thomas being shown the wounds in the hands (Jn 20:19-31), Jesus shows all the physical wounds of His physically resurrected body.  What does this all mean?  Bishop Robert Barron gets to the heart of it this week.

 

What this means is that we Christians believe in the bodily resurrection because Christ has shown us the way. 

Sunday Meditation: "Then he opened their minds to understand the Scriptures.

I have been listening to John Michael Talbot songs again.  He is just wonderful.  This one connects with today’s Gospel reading, “I am the Resurrection.”

 

Perhaps I will include a song with these Sunday Meditations that coordinate themes.  Is that something you would enjoy?