A Note on Celibacy

            Yesterday at the local bakery, while waiting for a loaf of baguette, a woman approached me and asked where my wife was. She meant well and was rather flustered, perhaps overly concerned with my apparent loneliness. Very quietly, I told her “We clergymen don’t take wives. I am celibate.” My verbiage left this woman rather confused! Poor dear, scratching at her hair, she answered, “So then, what do you celebrate?”

              Since my baguette was taking longer than I expected, I figured to explain: “No madam, I said celibate, it means that someone does not marry and chooses to remain chaste for their lifetime.” At last, she understood. In horror, the poor dear cried out, “Oh, how unfortunate!”

          After I received my baguette, while walking home, I realized that this woman’s attitude resembled most everyone else’s. And when dinner was finished, I decided to write something on this matter so others may be taught:

           Do we not hear the Gospel and how Jesus passed the devious tests of the Pharisees? While the Jews concerned themselves with earthly things, who shall earn the wife of many deceased husbands, Our Lord drew towards heavenly matters: “For when they shall rise again from the dead, they shall neither marry, nor be married, but are as the angels in heaven (1)”.  He does speak here of earthly unions, saying death shall dissolve the marriage bond… yet this does not dissolve the sanctity of marriage but beholds a new reality. In eternity, our human souls become espoused to none but the Lord God who crafted them.  From His time in Eden, God had crafted holy matrimony for the blessing of humanity made in His image. He had sealed the marital bond with His charity and bestowed the gift of family, generations beyond, who will glorify His name.

                Yet despite this great good, and let us declare it such great good, not all need belong to a husband or wife in this earthly stay. Hear the apostle: “The married man is anxious with pleasing his wife while a virgin is anxious with pleasing the Lord.” Think ye of such holy examples who undertook this: Mary Magdala who fled from impurity, John the Beloved, virgin and celibate, Joseph, Father of Christ, who lived out of godly fear, in marital continence. John the Messiah’s Forerunner and the prophet Jeremiah also pledged their flesh to God. This, the burnt-offering of the Levites prefigures: all is consumed, the whole body turned to ashes. Thus, Lord Jesus hath said: “He who loses his life shall gain life.” Many deem it gravest misfortune to be made a eunuch or mutilated, yet the one who who injures self for sake of the Kingdom is instead blessed, called “As the angels in heaven.”

                May we say, “He that can take, let him take it (2).” True oblation is never forced. Duty cannot selflessly give, thus the error of the Pharisees who bound up sacrifice with law.  The cross of Christ was never duty, no, Calvary’s offering was always love. Likewise, the man who forgoes marriage and creation of young does so from love. With a burning passion, he lays himself on the altar of chastity, ever hoping to consummate that supernatural union in heaven. In heaven, no marriage is known beside that with the Lord. A consecrated soul alone becomes as the bride of Solomon, choice, whitened, a heady wine, a hidden chord of sublime music, clad in gold, sweet as the lily, fair like the dove. Know, every brother, who delights in psalms rather than children’s’ laughter, is full of God’s delight. Know, every sister who gives not suck, goes out weeping yet returneth rejoicing, singing songs of joy. Know, every father who belongs to none, raises up by word of the Gospel, numberless descendants!

Blessed are the barren trees of Our Lord’s garden! By bowing down, they shed good seed and tend the saplings. They go to the sheep, made food for life anew. By restraining the flesh, they show us the angels. They mirror eternity, forever beloved and wedded to God, melded like wax beneath a burning flame, to Love Itself.

(1)    Mark 12:25

(2)    Matthew 19:12

Contrition

Finally left to himself, Cardinal Fratelli falls silent. He kneels, turns eyes towards an old, wooden crucifix, and prays aloud: “Have mercy on me, Oh Lord, according to the greatness of your mercy. In your compassion, blot out my sins…”

Admitting wrong deeds done and right deeds undone is difficult- especially for a cardinal who is supposed to be holy. Knowing he had been proud, slothful, selfish… intemperate… concupiscent, Fratelli dared not stare too intently at that hallowed representation of Christ. Indeed, the cross seemingly loomed over him, its painful curves and rugged lines almost crying out for justice. Yet, the Savior’s death didn’t bring well-deserved justice but mercy. The blood of the cross pleaded for pardon rather than condemnation.   

“Sacrifices do not delight you, but a contrite heart you will not spurn,” the cardinal said, “Hear me, Oh Lord, and be pleased with my sorrow.”

A Vacation for Cardinal Fratelli has been published!!

A new Cardinal Fratellli book is out!

The fifth book of “The Misadventures of Cardinal Fratelli series.” A cardinal’s life is full of duties, documents, appointments and ceremonies, this young Fratelli knows well, and after a series of comical mishaps gets him to realize he’s being overworked, he decides upon a lovely vacation in Pisa to the south. He heads along the coast of Italy, reluctantly taking Gianni and several servants with him, including Jan, intent on soaking up the sunshine and lovely scenery.  

However, Fratelli soon finds that even vacations can be thorny as the friendly Archbishop of Pisa wants help with many things, Gianni soon lands himself in trouble and the pestered cardinal just can’t seem to get any time alone! Will Fratelli get the vacation he’s always wanted- or disaster?

Available on Amazon and Kindle!

Easter Sermon

What of Christ’s little flock here on earth? What of the people who profess the resurrection but act as if they are dying? Those who have lost faith, those who doubt God, who have given into corruption, wickedness and sin? Surely they are part of the Church much as you or I? Was not Judas one of the Twelve? It becomes easy to despair when pondering the faults, vices, jealousies and strivings that the Church has experienced in her membership of near two-thousand years. At times, the Church certainly appeared dead on the outside, sunken and sallow like a dry tree. Yet one would be greatly amiss and rather ignorant of heavenly things if he truly deemed the Church of God to be dead.

Do we not know, where sin abounded, grace did more abound. (1) Do we know that Christ, when we were weak, died for the ungodly??  Yes, He purchased the Church- and all souls in it, by his own blood. He lay down his life for it while ever-knowing betrayals, divisions, quarrels and scandals would wait! The saint and the Pharisee both He loves… both have their home within His Church. And during starkest times, when all hope seemed lost, did not the Lord cleanse his Church, pull her from the ashes and give life anew? Not by man’s prowess, has the Church endured alongside Christ, but by his Holy Spirit. Just as Christ Jesus was raised not of his own power but that of his Father whom He glorified, the Church is raised from Christ, whom she betrothed. From the cross, Our Lord declared: “It is consummated” This wedding, born of blood, had been destined to wear a crown of glorious resurrection. Whoever lives in the Lord and dies in the Lord shall be raised in the Lord.

The apostle Paul, no stranger to religious evils, speaks for the Church when he says: And I live, now not I; but Christ liveth in me. And that I live now in the flesh: I live in the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and delivered himself for me. (2) The force that steadies a reeling, sinful church also uplifts mortal, sinful men. Sin sets its ugly countenance before us all. The world- and the Church shall always confront this grim face of evil until everything sees final consummation, when Christ comes with glory to crush death beneath his heel once and for ever. What is this hallowed feast about? Why do we come forward to Easter after an arduous, long Lent?

Because He is risen! The once beaten and bruised Savior, bloodied beyond recognition, had died. In a moment, darkness celebrates- but the victory proves short. He that embraced death’s cold arms now marches triumphant from the grave. From His wounds pour a river of strength, from his death flows a fountain of life. If we expect not to undergo the same, our faith is in vain. Because of the resurrection, we can stand fearless before death and evil. Because of the resurrection, we can sing hymns in the darkest pit. Because of this, we march forth, staggering- yet whole, wounded- but not conquered, weeping- yet singing, “alleluia” that ancient, Paschal refrain.  Indeed, among many things, did Christ Jesus tell us: “Be you of good cheer for I have overcome the world.”

1)     Romans 5:20

2)     Galatians 2:20

Sermon for Palm Sunday

     “Tell ye the daughter of Sion: Behold thy king cometh to thee… Rejoice greatly, O Daughter of Zion! Shout, Daughter of Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation ” Long have we awaited the day, verily have the prophets yearned: when we would hear these words- Your King comes to you, righteous and having salvation. This King is different from the rest, coming on a humble ass but bringing salvation! Salvation!

      Who brings salvation but God? Jesus the Son Of  God- True God, comes himself to deliver his people, to fulfill the Scriptures. Yet, we know that also to fulfill the Word of God which the prophets spoke, he must suffer and die. Just as the Savior of mankind arrives humbly arrayed, he dies in abject humility. He rules from the throne of the cross, paying our ransom in his blood. His Kingdom is one in which glory is purchased by suffering. It is not easy…truly he said: If you do not take up your cross, you are not worthy to follow after me. He not only saves us but calls us to be more than passive spectators. Thus, we are invited to place ourselves into the great "passion play" of today's Gospel. We are invited to walk there with the Lord who endures mockery and abuse. His Kingdom is not of this world, it is above this world and yet He calls even those who mock and hate Him into it. We, His children, most of all, who love Him, should take heed.

       We who are unworthy, we who are small, we all have place in his coming into kingship as did the lowly ass. How he beckons each one of us! Jesus speaks upon this day saying: Come forth and bear Zion’s King!”

Oh no, not a conclave! - Part I

When I arrived to Rome yesterday, I noticed my leg had fallen asleep. Stepping from the stagecoach, I almost fell! Luckily, my secretary, Father Rodrigo, caught me. He told me I must be careful. Rome is always a very exciting place for me. They have the best calzone and make the creamiest tomato soup, which was perfect on the cold day I arrived. There was some rain in the air and I prayed the Lord would keep me dry and warm. I don't tend to have good luck with rain as it usually finds some way to evade an umbrella and get my little zucchetto all wet.

Now it was getting dark when I arrived. Many people were scurrying about, their attention drawn to the lamps being lit, restaurants opening and the occasional cardinal who darted by hoping to be unseen. Must I say, I dread being fussed over!

As I approached the Piazza of St. Peter's I suddenly wondered what it was like for the chief apostle of Christ to walk these very same streets. Was he bold, standing on a monument to proclaim the love our Lord has for us? Did he baptize many in the Tiber River nearby? Was he afraid soldiers would come to arrest him? Rome was a place of wonder to Peter but in a way, it was his own garden of agony. He knew he was going to die there as Jesus foretold, he probably wrestled with this. However, the once weak, cowardly apostle now rose courageously to meet his suffering. He stood in this square, condemned to death and still lifted up prayers. He didn't care for the cruel world which hated him and hated his message, he knew he was going to be with the Lord. His sadness would be eternal joy!

That is somewhat how I feel. This is my first conclave and all I know is that being in a room full of cardinals is dreadful. There will be much bickering and posturing. We, being sinful men, assert ourselves at the most awkward moments...like when I tried to enjoy a bit of supper.

 I didn't want to be asked about my opinions on democracy, other religions and reforming the Roman Missal when I was tired, cold and hungry. I am going to suffer in these next days, I know it. Hopefully, I can lift my voice to God and think of the innumerable things He has stored up for those who love Him. I hope I can act according to His will...and not raise my voice at anyone. True courage and strength amidst danger comes from God. Power comes not from man but from God. I remind myself that it was only because of the Rock of Salvation that Peter could become a rock of the Church.

After I had eaten only one spoonful of that splendid tomato soup I mentioned earlier, I was approached. Two of my fellow-cardinals spoke in loud voices. One asked if I think he would make a good pope. Merciful goodness! They sat right next to me and fought over a pitcher of water, wetting the table right where my zucchetto had been laid. Frustration and suffering indeed! I put the zucchetto in my pocket. At least, I can keep it safe. Cannot say the same for myself.

(disclaimer, Cardinal Fratelli is not an actual cardinal of the Roman Catholic Church but a fictional character.)

Fell asleep in the office again

I had finally finished this long book on matters of theology and of the Holy Trinity, and was going to write down my insights but...I fell asleep.

The Cardinal's Family Matters, ch 9-10

Chapter 9.

      Evening.

      Coming to a rugged road, the coach halted. Gianni sprinted from the door, hurrying towards dense shrubbery as Fratelli leaned outside and called:

      “Do your improper deed quickly- we must be on our way!”

      Philomena giggled behind him. Then she stepped out, stretched her legs and paced over the dusty ground. Rodrigo figured he would get some exercise as well. Strolling beneath a scraggly tree, he produced a small, leather-bound book from his pocket. Its old pages rustled in protest as Rodrigo opened them, loosened the blue, silk ribbon which marked his place and began to read aloud:

      “O God, come to my aid…”

      Automatically, Fratelli replied, “O Lord, make haste to help me.”

      Philomena gazed cock-eyed, but wasn’t offended when Fratelli beckoned her participation in the evening-prayer. She spoke coarsely, reluctantly. But she needed to be compliant, she mused. After all, their attending this marvelous celebration was because of him.

      Gianni expressed confusion, his little forehead wrinkling, when he joined back with them. Yet, taking ready advantage of that awkwardness, Gianni assumed priestly posture, spread his arms wide then waved a blessing in the air. Fratelli scowled. He didn’t say anything. Tired by the day’s long journey, he climbed aboard the stagecoach. The others soon followed.   

      Two hours later, they had passed the border of Florence. While Lamberto II resided in Eastern Lucca, his father’s palace stood on a hilltop in central Florence. Tuscany’s great capitol was unlike Lucca, which bustled at a steady pace. Here, crowds, horses and carriages jammed the streets. Fortunately, the traffic loosened. Most people, by now, were preparing for Easter’s Solemn Vigil.  As the sloping hilltop came into sight, Fratelli clasped his hands anxiously together. A sharp incline jolted them, Gianni shouted with excitement and Philomena stirred from her nap.

      “Can’t they be more careful?” she grumbled.

      Taking his cousin’s arm, Fratelli replied, “There is no other way to scale the hill- unless you wish to walk.”

      When her small purse hit the floor, Philomena hissed in frustration. Soon, bumps and jostles ended. Quickly, they moved over smooth terrain then gradually slowed. Out the small windows, a high, stone gate became visible and four scarlet-clad, armed guards allowed them through.

      At last, everything stopped. Gianni jumped outside first. Throwing his fists up, he whooped with joy and began to run. Immediately, Rodrigo bounded after him and clutched the collar of his suit. Wrestling away, Gianni exclaimed, “Father, if you tear my suit- I’ll look terrible for my first communion!”

      Rodrigo let go. Fratelli sprinted, lifting his long cloak above the grass, and paused beside him.

      “Your Eminence,” Rodrigo said, “I fear the boy may act out, seeing how he’s been cooped up so long.”

      “Don’t worry yourself. I’ll get him. Please accompany Philomena,” Fratelli panted.

      Rodrigo then asked, “Are you alright?”   

      “Yes, fine, fine,” Fratelli replied as he started towards Gianni who had already reached the palace door.

      Timidly brushing aside his golden-brown hair, Gianni met eyes with another guard. Tall-statured, towering over him, the man casually stared back. Though he rested one hand on the hilt of his silver sword, the guard’s stance did not threaten. Suddenly, Gianni pointed at Fratelli, flashed a toothy smile and bluntly declared:

      “I’m with him. We’re important…”

      Fratelli grabbed Gianni’s arm in order to hush him, apologized for the annoyance and led him inside.  At once, a great foyer engulfed them. Golden lamplight greeted them, gilded walls and distant violin music. Gianni gaped. He had never seen such opulence in his life. Several noble ladies, all wearing fine emerald-colored dresses, conversed nearby. One by one, they turned to greet Fratelli.

      “Your Eminence!” said the eldest, tucking a stubborn, black curl behind her ear, “I’d ask you to dance with me but alas, you’re not allowed.”

      Tightening his grip on Gianni, who tried to squirm away, Fratelli uneasily gazed aside at a large painting. When the woman burst into coyish laughter, he swiftly departed. Entering a spacious corridor, he finally released Gianni. Spinning around, Gianni stated, “I bet they have very good food here. I’m so hungry… Can we get something to eat?”

      “Yes but only a little. You shall not eat supper until after Mass and Holy Communion,” Fratelli answered.

      Rodrigo then appeared. Noticing, Fratelli’s mounting exasperation, he offered to take Gianni and find the boy some food. Eagerly, Fratelli paced back into the great foyer. Philomena waited. 

      “I know how badly Francine wanted to be here,” she began.

      Thinking of Michele, wondering if she was well, Fratelli nervously folded his hands. He removed his golden ring and held it for a while. Just as he started putting it back on, someone yelled loudly:

      “You are here!”

      Alarmed, Fratelli dropped the ring. It clinked on the floor, rolled about a foot away and was stopped by Lamberto II’s black boot. Clad in medallioned finery, scarlet and black, Lamberto withdrew. His unblemished face tensed, fair lips bent in a frown. Fratelli just stood there adamant, unwilling to move. Neither of them acted. Neither of them wanted to stoop in front of the other and show submission…

      Eventually, a blue-vested servant paused amidst household cleaning, seeing their dilemma. He approached and knelt down to fetch the ring. Moreso, he placed the ring onto Fratelli’s finger then reverently kissed it. Glancing back at Lamberto, the servant dashed away like a frightened mouse.  

      Feeling weak, Fratelli watched Lamberto proceed towards Philomena, introduce himself and offer her a glass of wine. Sighing under his breath, Fratelli concluded that only a beautiful young woman afforded Lamberto’s politeness. Everyone else seemed inferior. Suppressing hot anger, Fratelli ventured outside. Somehow, he sensed his trials had only begun.

Chapter 10.

      This is the Night.

      In mere minutes, a troupe of clergy entered the foyer, clustered together and milled outside. They numbered around thirty. Ten, white-robed deacons, fifteen priests wearing black cassocks and birettas, three monsignors swaddled in purple, one elderly, grey-bearded bishop and lastly, a resplendent cardinal. His silvery, powdered wig curled like a lion’s mane.  Obviously dyed to match, his bushy eyebrows arched while he peered with shrewd, blue eyes. Fratelli vaguely recognized him… Looking to and fro, seeking refuge from the clamorous throng, he desperately ducked behind a huge, ornamental fern.

      Unfortunately, the silver-haired cardinal stared right at Fratelli and in boisterous voice, announced:

      “Now I know, the Lord Lamberto doesn’t have red roses trimmed with ermine- come out from there…you look silly.”

      Fratelli remained still. He finally gave up and emerged. The older cardinal gave a satisfied look. Then he paused, thought a minute and asked:

      “I am Cardinal Montillo. You don’t remember me?”

      No answer. Before Montillo addressed Fratelli again, someone called him back inside.

      “Thanks be to you, O Lord…” Fratelli muttered.

      In short time, everyone was summoned into the neighboring, royal chapel. For a chapel, the space was huge, with gilded walls and vaulted ceilings. White lilies clustered everywhere, sweetly scenting the air. Hastened clamor ensued. A select-audience gathered. Altar servers scurried and chattered like white-clad sea-gulls. Priests gathered as a greater flock, rushing to the chapel’s front. Beside the ancient, bearded bishop, Fratelli fidgeted with his own clothing. He wore choir dress beneath a scarlet cape, which was what cardinals wore when not presiding. However, he lost his thoughts when all grew dark. In that primordial dark, they recollected the first dark… before creation.

      “In the beginning God created heaven, and earth. And the earth was void and empty, and darkness was upon the face of the deep; and the spirit of God moved over the waters…”

      On this night, they relived creation and the fall of man. They learned how from his sinfulness, emerged the perfect plan of hope.

      “And I will pour upon you clean water, and you shall be cleansed from all your filthiness, and I will cleanse you from all your idols. And I will give you a new heart, and put a new spirit within you.”

      Time blurred. Minutes ran together. While sitting, overhearing Cardinal Montillo’s rather dull, prolonged sermon, Fratelli struggled to stay awake. At last, he sharply pinched his arm and almost shouted from the abrupt pain. Hearing Fratelli’s stifled squeak, the priest beside him grew stiff, his eyes fearfully bulging and frantically searched for a rodent beneath his feet.

      The baptisms, which initiated Christians into new life, followed. Women holding babes draped in white lace, lined behind several pink-cheeked youths around the baptismal font. Montillo administered the life-giving sacrament, his face rather indifferent from doing this so many years. Next, came that long-awaited moment- confirmation. In ancient days, Christians would receive this sacrament on Easter night which called the Holy Spirit upon them. Lord Christ promised it and so they did it, Fratelli reminded himself.

      When Gianni’s suited figure rose, Fratelli fixed eyes on the boy who devoutly marched to the altar, halted, glanced back and in one, quick gesture, picked his nose. Fratelli winced. He dearly hoped no one had seen this. With a delicate, gloved hand, Montilo gestured for Fratelli to approach. He, stood, went forth proudly and met Gianni upon the altar’s marble steps.

      Looking down at Gianni’s overwhelmed and confused expression, Fratelli ginned. He really admired the boy right now who had expected a smaller ceremony, in Lucca’s cathedral, with more townspeople and minus the leering royalty.  A young server advanced, holding a crystal bowl of sacred oil in his pale hands. Ignoring Montillo’s domineering stare, Fratelli dabbed his thumb into the shimmering oil.

      Soft strains filled the air, joyously chanting:

      “Alleluia, resurrexit sicut dixit… (1.)”

      Fratelli honestly lost himself in the moment. His thoughts floated off somewhere below the vaulted ceiling. A sudden hiss brought him back to earth:

      “Your Eminence!”

      Seeing Gianni, Fratelli shook his head and anointed Gianni’s forehead, quietly speaking:

      “Be ye sealed with the Holy Ghost.”

      Gianni smiled. Glad to be over with; he turned and hastily retreated down the altar-steps. Fratelli himself remained by the other clergy, fidgeting somewhat as he found it hard to contain his joy. This joy grew considerably during the consecration of the Holy body and blood of Christ. They used only the newest, finest bread and wine, rendered a best offering to the Lord. It was now time:

      Nervously, Gianni again approached the altar, knelt- as he was instructed and allowed Montillo to place a white, round host on his tongue. Fratelli watched the boy chew, worried he would grimace, horrified if he would dare spit it out. Luckily, all went well and Gianni returned to his place and remembered to thank God.

      Gladness erupted in Fratelli’s very soul. This was the night when Christ rose from the grave, when everything was made anew. On this night, Christ opened the gates of heaven, undid the fault of Adam and delivered mankind from certain death.

      ~ ~ ~

      Finally, the Mass ended. Bells rang, casting a brazen echo. In response, another church-bell sang far off in the distance. Darkness shrouded the hillside. People walked, holding lit candles, forming a stream of light as they tread back towards the palace.

      Fratelli sighed with great relief when he reached his guest room. He glanced at two beds. Since Rodrigo wasn’t yet there, he eagerly chose the larger one. Despite Fratelli’s worrying, nothing went wrong. Easter’s solemn Vigil had been splendid, beauteous, pleasing to God. Gianni fully entered Christian faith; he was so different from the raggedy menace he met two years ago. And also, Philomena seemed happy. Resting on a soft, silk pillow, he smiled and said:

                       “Thank you, O Lord, for your plentiful grace. You spared me from trouble tonight and 

               lifted  my heart. Please be there for Gianni- as I have nothing to worry about.

Cardinal Fratelli's Christmas Sermon

“Brothers and sisters in Christ, The prophet Isaiah, of old, once said, thousands of years before the birth of Lord Christ:

“How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, and that preacheth peace: of him that sheweth forth good, that preacheth salvation, that saith to Sion: Thy God shall reign! (1)”

On this night, I say to you as we have heard in the Scriptures:

“For a CHILD IS BORN to us, and a son is given to us, and the government is upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called, Wonderful, Counsellor, God the Mighty, the Father of the world to come, the Prince of Peace (2).”

What are we to make of all this? Surely our minds and hearts are dizzied by the news: Our Savior has come! He is given to us. Given! And he shall reign forever! When we see the sadness and brokenness of the world, it becomes obvious that mankind longs for a Savior. We long to be rescued and delivered from evil, the wickedness of others and most importantly, our own wickedness. Don’t deny it, dear children, for soon as we think ourselves perfect, we have fallen.

But do not despair in the pit of sorrow, do not yield to your sin and say “It is hopeless” -good news has been announced to us! We have a Savior and moreso, not a Savior who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who was made like us in all things- but sin. This is wonderful! Do we realize that death and sin have been answered, have been challenged by the cry of a tender babe in Bethlehem?

His cries echo our cries and He will deliver us! I say to you: Open your hearts for Thy God, the Prince of Peace, shall reign!”