Pilgrims are being given the chance to see the 13th Century remains of St Anthony which go on display in a glass case today in Italy.
The display, which will last until Saturday will be in chapel of his tomb in Padua and marks the feast of the transfer of St Anthony, also known as the 'feast of the tongue'. This commemorates the first time his remains were moved in 1263, under the direction of St Bonaventure, and the final transfer to Relics Chapel of Padua's Basilica on February 15 1350.
St Anthony, patron saint of Padua, is also known as Anthony of Lisbon. When his coffin was moved 30 years after his burial it was opened and it is claimed most of his body was found to have returned to dust. However his tongue remained fresh, which was seen as a sign of his gift of preaching, and was kept in a separate relic box. Anthony's relics were last displayed in 1981, marking the 750th anniversary of his death. He is one of the 'quickest' saints in the history of the Catholic Church as he was canonized by Pope Gregory IX less than one year after he died.
Today he is one of the most famous saints and is often called upon by Catholics to help find lost possessions. He is also remembered as the namesake for the city of San Antonio, Texas; Spanish explorers in the area stopped there on his feast day (June 13) and named the river and settlement after him.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
St. Anthony of Padua's Relics
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Ash Wednesday
Today begins the holy season of Lent. Just yesterday I recieved the multi volume work of Dom Gueranger entitled the Liturgical Year. For today it says, among many other things, this:
Yesterday, the world was busy in its pleasures, and the very children of God were taking a joyous farewell to mirth: but this morning, all is changed. The solemn announcement, spoken of by the prophet has been proclaimed in Sion: The solemn fast of Lent, the season of expiation, the approach of the great anniversaries of our Redemption. Let us, then, rouse ourselves, and prepare for the spiritual combat.
But in this battling of the spirit against the flesh we need good armour. Our holy mother the Church knows how much we need it; and therefore does she summon us to ender into the house of God, that she may arm us for the holy contest.
[ ... ]
We are entering, to-day, upon a long campaign of the warfare spoken of by the apostles: forty days of battle, forty days of penance. We shall not turn cowards, if our sols can but be impressed with the conviction, that the battle and the penance must be gone through. Let us listen to the eloquence of the solemn rite which opens our Lent. Let us go whither our mother leads us...
Let us keep one another in prayer during this Holy Season.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
A Promising Development at Mundelein Seminary
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Good Things Happening at the Liturgical Institute
Friday, February 5, 2010
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
St. Anskar, Apostle to Scandanavia
In most parishes today the memorial of St. Blaise, bishop and martyr is celebrated, but this is also the memorial of St. Anskar (also referred to as Ansgar, Anschar, Anscharius, and Scharies). Because of the popularity of the blessing of throats through the intercession of St. Blaise, St. Anskar often is forgotten. For those of us of Danish descent, this seems unfortunate. St. Anskar is a great model for all of us, particularly those of us who are clergy. Many do not know much about this great Saint, so I will provide some biographical information from the Internet Medieval Sourcebook:
When one of Anskar's followers suggested to him that he could work miracles he replied, " Were I worthy of such a favour from my God, I would ask that He would grant to me this one miracle, that by His grace He would make of me a good man." No one can read the "Life" written by Rimbert his disciple and successor which, after being lost for five hundred years, was fortunately rediscovered, without feeling moved to thank God for the accomplishment of the miracle for which Anskar had prayed. He was a good man in the best and truest sense of the term. In the character presented to us by his biographer we have a singularly attractive combination of transparent humility, unflinching courage, complete self devotion, and unwavering belief in a loving and overruling providence. The claim to the title Apostle of the North, which was early made on his behalf, rests not upon the immediate outcome of his labours, but upon the inspiring example which he bequeathed to those who were moved to follow in his steps. For whilst the Missions which lie planted in Denmark and Sweden during the thirty-three years of his episcopate were interrupted after his death by the desolating raids of the Northmen, those by whom the work was restarted gratefully recognised him as their pioneer.
Anskar, who was born in 801, was trained in the monastery of Corbey near Amiens and had been transferred with other monks to the monastery of New Corbey near Hoxter on the River Weser, which was founded in 822. By the time of Anskar the spiritual life of the Benedictine monasteries had sunk very low, but the Benedictine monastery of Old Corbey in which he had been trained and which owed its origin to a colony of monks who had come from the stricter Columbanian monastery at Luxeuil, had preserved its early tradition unimpaired. In the new monastery Anskar was placed in charge of the monastic school and, he was also accustomed to preach to the public congregation. From early childhood he had seen visions and dreamed dreams, which created in him the desire to lead a religious life, and his thoughts were perhaps turned in the direction of missionary enterprise by the accounts which must have reached him of the work accomplished by Boniface and his successors. His definite resolve to devote his life to this object dated, as his biographer tells us, from a time immediately after the death of Charlemagne, when he had recently taken the tonsure and had become a monk. About this time he had a vision in describing which Anskar says, " When then I had been brought by the men whom I mentioned into the presence of this unending light, where the majesty of almighty God was revealed to me without need for anyone to explain, and when they and I had offered our united adoration, a most sweet voice, the sound of which was more distinct than all other sounds and which seemed to me to fill the whole world, came forth from the same divine majesty and addressed me and said, Go and return to Me crowned with martyrdom."
[...]
His biographer adds, " As a result of this vision, which I have described in the words which he had himself dictated the servant of God was both terrified and comforted and in the fear of the Lord he began to live more carefully, to cleave day by day to good deeds, and to hope that by the mercy of God, in whatever way He might choose, he might be able to obtain the crown of martyrdom." [Chap III] The greatest disappointment in after life which Anskar experienced was caused by the fact that his expectation of martyrdom founded on this vision was not literally fulfilled.
[...]
The first two years (8268) after his arrival in Denmark were not productive of great visible results, but he laid a foundation for subsequent missionary work by starting a school for the training of Danish youths who might become the evangelists of their own countrymen. The twelve boys with which the school opened were either purchased by Anskar or presented to him by the king.
[...]
As his life drew to its close he was much distressed that the vision which he had seen many years before, in which, as he thought, it had been foretold that he would die a martyr's death, had not been literally fulfilled. Shortly before his death, however, he bad another vision which assured him that it was through no fault of his that the crown of martyrdom had been withheld. At the same time his friends reminded him that the hardships and dangers which lie had experienced had in effect made his whole life one continuous martyrdom. He died on February 3, 865, at the age of 64, more than half his life having been spent in missionary work in Denmark and Sweden and within the limits of his own diocese.
His whole life was characterized by rigid discipline and selfdenial : he wore a haircloth shirt by day and night, and in the earlier part of his life he measured out everything that he ate or drank; he chanted a fixed number of Psalms morning and evening, and would also sing Psalms as he laboured with his hands, and chant litanies as he dressed, or washed his hands, and three or four times a day he would celebrate Mass. Of all that he received he gave at once a tenth part to the poor and every five years he tithed his income afresh. Wherever he went in his diocese he would eat nothing till some poor persons had been brought in to share his meal and during Lent he would wash their feet and would distribute amongst them bread and meat.
Although his biographer attributes to him the working of a number of miracles, Anskar himself never claimed to possess this power. Adam of Bremen, referring to the hospital founded by Littgart at Bremen, states that Anskar was wont to visit it daily, and is said to have healed very many by his speech and by his touch.
In the Liturgy of the Hours used in Scandanavain countries there is this beautiful hymn in honor of the great Saint. Praying this hymn is a fitting way to honor him on this, his feastday.
Most noble father, Anskar,
Restore us by thy grace,
And those who wander now afar
In Christ's own bosom place.
In holy strife contending
Thou did'st the faith proclaim
To Danes and Swedes declaring
The honour of His name.
An unbelieving nation
From thee the light receives,
The teachings of salvation,
It now with joy believes.
Thou to God's sheep hast given
The food they fain would claim,
And earnestly hast striven
To glorify His name.
To the great King thou bringest
When earthly strife doth cease,
The talents thou receivest,
With manifold increase.
To Father, and His only Son
Be laud and honour given
To Holy Spirit, Three in One
In earth and highest heaven.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
My Kind of Saint
I had heard of this saint before, but until I read the post on him over at Sub Tuum, I didn't know that he and I have a similar trait. A big mouth. He was also hung, drawn, and quartered for being a Catholic Priest. Surely he is a model for all priests to follow.
Here is the short sketch of St. Alban Roe that the good Br. Stephen provides on his blog:
Fr Alban Roe was baptised Bartholomew sometime in 1583, in Suffolk. He attended Cambridge University, and while there experienced something that caused his conversion to Catholicism.
While visiting in St Alban’s, he heard that a Catholic recusant had been put in prison there for his beliefs, and chose to visit the prisoner, in order to argue him out of his superstitious ways. It did not work out like that, and the Catholic prisoner instead, persuaded Bartholomew that he needed change.
In February 1608 he took up a place in the English College (a seminary) in Douai, eager to become a priest. He was expelled in 1611, however, for criticising the principal.
It so happened that a Benedictine house was given permission to establish itself at Douai in December of 1608, and it seems likely that young Bartholomew was acquainted with it. At any rate, wishing to avoid further embarrassment in Douai, he joined the novitiate at another English monastery, St Laurence’s at Dieulouard in 1613. Once ordained he went to England where he worked in secret as a priest.
In 1618 however he was imprisoned for being a priest in England - a ‘crime’ which carried the death penalty. Fortunately, he was released by King James I in a general amnesty in 1623 and banished. He returned to England however, and was re-arrested in 1625 and imprisoned in St Alban’s where his adventure had begun so many years before.
Luckily for him, his friends had him removed to the Fleet prison in London where circumstances were much better. Indeed, like many others, he was allowed out into the streets of London by day so long as he gave his word (Fr. ‘parole’) that he would return by nightfall. He used his freedom to minister to many.
While King Charles I governed without parliament, no imprisoned priests were executed. When the Long Parliament convened, however, the hangings began again in earnest (20 between 1641 and 1646 including Fr Alban). On the 21st January 1642, he and Fr Thomas Ryenolds, a priest in his 80s, offered their last mass and were led to the gallows. They gave each other absolution.
Just before his death, Alban asked the sheriff if his life would be spared if he renounced his Catholic religion and became an Anglican. The sheriff swore he would be spared if he did. Alban then said to all: “See, then, what the crime is for which I am to die, and whether my religion be not my only treason... I wish I had a thousand lives; then would I sacrifice them all for so worthy a cause.” They were allowed to hang until they were dead before being quartered.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
The Dance of the Holy Smoke
The title itself makes me laugh hysterically, which is exactly what I did in the library earlier today as I opened up a book entitled Parish Liturgy: A Handbook for Renewal by Robert D. Duggan and saw a section in Part II entitled Incense: The Dance of the Holy Smoke. As most of the regular readers of this blog (all five of you) know, I love using incense in the Sacred Liturgy. So, when I find such an interesting section title I just have to read it. I found this section to be particularly amusing because it provides a glimpse into a particular period in the development of liturgical thought. We look back and chuckle at it, but at the time it was considered by many to be quite serious. So, here are a few of my favorite excerpts from the section on incense.
For some people the use of incense at a liturgical celebration is a sign of the Tridentine Mass mentality and a sure indicator that those who favor it are stuck
in a rigid conservatism. For others, incense is a symbol of New Age exotica that brings to mind hippies smoking pot in the sixties and all the bad things one might imagine about the liberal Left...
The liturgical "dance of the holy smoke" triggers subliminal memories of childhood reveries, watching clouds form mysterious shapes on a sunny afternoon in mid-summer. It recalls campfires and family fireplaces, slender columns of smoke rising from birthday candles, and a hundred other forgotten memories...
But there may be times when a much more effective use of the symbol is achieved by a stationary container holding burning charcoal on which are placed (by a graceful liturgical dancer?) the grains of incense. The movement of the one applying the incense is, in fact, a kind of liturgical dance, despite the reluctance of many to use such terms to describe what is occurring. The stylized gestures called for in the ritual books (bowing, swinging arms, specified steps and paths to be taken) certainly qualify as choreography. And, like any dance form, its execution needs rehearsal, critique, and repeated practice if it is to seem - in the moment of celebration - effortless and un-selfconsciously graceful...
Thank God, that for the most part, such silliness is no longer commonplace in the Liturgy. Now that we have safely moved through that period in our liturgical history we have more noble and dignified ways of using incense - ways that are rooted in our 2000 year history. For that, let us thank the Almighty.
Monday, January 25, 2010
The Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul
As I was praying the Divine Office today I was struck by the importance of this feast. It reminds us that even the greatest sinners can become even greater saints. It reminds us that the way we treat others is the way we treat Jesus. It reminds us that God wants us for His own and is willing to stop at nothing to have us, if only we open ourselves to Him. In order to help us appreciate this day you will find below a section from a homily by St. John Chrysostom.
Paul, more than anyone else, has shown us what man really is, and in what our nobility consists, and of what virtue this particular animal is capable. Each day he aimed ever higher; each day he rose up with greater ardour and faced with new eagerness the dangers that threatened him. He summed up his attitude in the words: I forget what is behind me and push on to what lies ahead. When he saw death imminent, he bade others share his joy: Rejoice and be glad with me! And when danger, injustice and abuse threatened, he said: I am content with weakness, mistreatment and persecution. These he called the weapons of righteousness, thus telling us that he derived immense profit from them.
Thus, amid the traps set for him by his enemies, with exultant heart he turned their every attack into a victory for himself; constantly beaten, abused and cursed, he boasted of it as though he were celebrating a triumphal procession and taking trophies home, and offered thanks to God for it all: Thanks be to God who is always victorious in us! This is why he was far more eager for the shameful abuse that his zeal in preaching brought upon him than we are for the most pleasing honours, more eager for death than we are for life, for poverty than we are for wealth; he yearned for toil far more than others yearn for rest after toil. The one thing he feared, indeed dreaded, was to offend God; nothing else could sway him. Therefore, the only thing he really wanted was always to please God.
The most important thing of all to him, however, was that he knew himself to be loved by Christ. Enjoying this love, he considered himself happier than anyone else; were he without it, it would be no satisfaction to be the friend of principalities and powers. He preferred to be thus loved and be the least of all, or even to be among the damned, than to be without that love and be among the great and honoured. To be separated from that love was, in his eyes, the greatest and most extraordinary of torments; the pain of that loss would alone have been hell, and endless, unbearable torture.
So too, in being loved by Christ he thought of himself as possessing life, the world, the angels, present and future, the kingdom, the promise and countless blessings. Apart from that love nothing saddened or delighted him; for nothing earthly did he regard as bitter or sweet. Paul set no store by the things that fill our visible world, any more than a man sets value on the withered grass of the field. As for tyrannical rulers or the people enraged against him, he paid them no more heed than gnats. Death itself and pain and whatever torments might come were but child’s play to him, provided that thereby he might bear some burden for the sake of Christ.
