The Freedom of the Butterflies and the Holy Spirit
Sometimes we forget to use nature to help us tune into God. In this particular instance, I found myself contemplating butterflies as a way to contemplate the freedom and elusiveness of the Holy Spirit.
The cold winter in Michigan
Sometimes Michigan winters feel long and hard. Temperatures drop into the 40s in October, plunge into single digits by January, and don’t really climb back into the 40s until April. That’s six months of cold. This past winter brought subzero windshields and near-daily snow. In survival mode, my days blurred into a routine: let the dogs out, feed them, help them settle, shower, do back exercises, eat, and head to work. Seeing children for well visits and illnesses, I fell into the rhythms of practice and, over time, my joy for pediatric medicine dimmed.
I began to forget how funny kids are, the delight of listening to their stories, the small, ordinary moments that make the work meaningful. Worse, I found my presence slipping during visits; I had to force myself to think clearly, to embrace problems objectively and form sensible treatment plans. Spiritually, too, my prayer life grew lukewarm. The yoke of work got heavy.
Our visit to the butterfly garden
In March, my wife Anne suggested a day trip to Meijer Gardens’ butterfly exhibit. I took my camera—an Eos Rebel ET6—and a monopod. The drive north was only 45 minutes. Stepping out of the car, I breathed the cold, fresh air like a new life. My legs were stiff from the drive and a three-mile run the day before, but excitement bubbled as I remembered our last visit five years earlier: butterflies circling and flashing brilliant color, difficult to capture with a camera.
Inside the conservatory I lost track of time. Butterflies flitted from tree to water to leaf, sometimes landing and offering a chance to photograph them. Many came from Central and South America—the Blue and White Longwing, the Golden Helicon with brown wings and a golden center, the Tiger Longwing with black, orange, and cream stripes, and the Postman with bold red bands. I tried various shooting positions: sitting, standing with the monopod, crouching near leaves and water. With the camera on automatic I managed some decent shots, and I reveled in the simple joy of watching them.
My biggest challenge was the Common Morpho Peleides—brilliant iridescent blue wings spanning about five inches. Their blue isn’t a pigment but a refracted color from microscopic wing scales. Despite their size, Morphos were astonishingly fast and erratic in flight, flashing electric blue when wings were open and disappearing to a dull brown undersurface with protective eyespots when closed. Their erratic pattern and camouflage are exceptional survival traits—and formidable obstacles for photographers.
Being with Jesus in the Ignatian style of prayer
Frustration mounted as the Morphos eluded my lens. Eventually I let the frustration go and began to contemplate. In the Ignatian style of prayer, I placed myself in a gospel scene. I imagined Jesus in Jerusalem for Passover, tired after a day that included the cleansing of the temple (John 2). The evening cooled; Jesus and his disciples had started fires to keep warm after their meal. Nicodemus, a respected Pharisee, came to him at night. John 3 tells the ensuing conversation:
Nicodemus acknowledges Jesus as a teacher from God. Jesus replies, “Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again.” Nicodemus wonders how a grown man can be born again. Jesus answers, “Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit… Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit… The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit” (John 3:1–8, https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=John%203%3A1-8&version=NIV).
Contemplating the Holy Spirit
Hearing Jesus describe the Spirit’s unpredictability made me view the butterfly differently. The Morpho’s elusiveness and sudden flashes of blue mirrored the Holy Spirit’s freedom—ungraspable, moving where it pleases, sometimes sharp and erratic, sometimes graceful. Just as a butterfly cannot be contained, the Spirit cannot be controlled or held tight. There is joy in that freedom: a childlike openness, a willingness to be present without knowing the next move.
That freedom is deeply therapeutic for my work. When I let the Spirit be at work—listening, being present with child and parent—I can step back from anxiety and let insight come. The Spirit illuminates diagnosis and care. In those moments I feel Jesus’ invitation from Matthew 11: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest… For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:28–30, https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew%2011%3A28-30&version=NIV). Exchanging my heavy yoke for Jesus’ light one restores joy.
I recognize how easy it is to let routine and coldness of spirit numb me. Slowly, unconsciously, I can stop seeing God in each child and situation. I don’t invite the Holy Spirit to illuminate my day, and the work becomes merely mechanical. This tiredness is not just physical or mental, but spiritual.
Being One with the Holy Spirit
So sometimes, by grace—and, as on this day, by Anne’s gentle insistence—I need to “go see the butterflies.” I need to be reminded of the Spirit’s unpredictability and freedom: where it comes from, where it’s going, I don’t know, but it moves and invites me to move with it. Letting Jesus in, I can work with presence and compassion again. Love and charity flow from the Triune God into my heart, and I can share them with the children I care for. Then the ordinary moments become joyful: hearing a four-month-old smile as I listen to her heart, a five-year-old laugh as I examine his belly and tease about doughnuts, a fifteen-year-old pausing to consider what truly brings her joy.
Butterflies captivate not just by beauty but by mystery. Their speed and agility are survival and adaptability, and their flashing blue is a reminder of something deeper: like the wind Jesus speaks of, spirit and freedom are at the core of nature and faith. They move without asking permission, inspiring wonder in those who follow their flight.
I close with a prayer of gratitude: Blessed are you, Father, Creator of all, who cares for me as a beloved child. Thank you, Jesus, for teaching me about the Holy Spirit through these small, elusive creatures—teaching me to be present, detached from the world’s grips, and open to the unpredictable work of your Spirit. Help me share that love freely with the children and families I serve. Amen.
The Essence of Being in Church
Our topic for this week’s prayer group, the story of Jesus and the cleansing of the temple (Matthew 21:12-17, https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=matthew%2021%3A12-17&version=NIV), made think of the essence of being in church. As I prayed over the story, I found myself as one of Jesus’ disciples in the Jesuit style of prayer.
It was mid-afternoon and we came into the temple. We had just come from the region of Judea and were making our way to Jerusalem. We crossed the entrance to the outer temple, and I could feel the busyness of the temple with Jews and non-Jews. Money changers were present to change others’ currency (Roman or other foreign land) into Tyrian Shekels so people could pay their taxes or buy a sacrificial animal. It was loud from people talking and negotiating, goats bleating, children laughing and running around. It was before Passover and Jerusalem was busy.
Looking at Jesus, I could see the anguish and disappointment in his facial expression. I remember when he was 12 years old, and he felt called to be in the temple. The occasion was also during Passover, and he had traveled with Joseph and Mary, relatives and friends (Luke 2:41-52, https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=luke%202%3A41-52&version=NIV) God the Father had called him and wanted Jesus to be with Him. It was an act of wanting to be one with the Holy Spirit. It seemed like a natural thing to do for Jesus, experiencing peace and love as the Trinity came together. And as Jesus listened to the elders and gave answers to some of their questions, “Everyone who heard him was amazed at his understanding and his answers.” (Luke 2:47). To Joseph and Mary’s expression of concern of why he was missing, Jesus answered, “Why were you searching for me?” he asked. “Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?” (Luke 2:49).
I remember when I felt a strong pull to go to church. Coincidentally, I was 12 years old, and my family had stopped going to church on a regular basis. I had felt a good connection with God after my first communion and prayed before bed every so often. There were kids in class who had started going to a school prayer group and had invited me to go, but I did not want to share with them my relationship with God. I felt like I was still trying to figure things out myself and felt private and protective of this. Then at Christmas time when I had turned 12, a friend from my neighborhood mentioned to me what a great experience he had had going to church by himself. He encouraged me to go, and so I did, by myself.
In church, I found I could talk quietly to God without interruption. Everybody was quiet in church, and I could just contemplate the crucifix, the statues of Mary, Joseph, St. Peter and St. Paul. I felt like I belonged, I felt God embracing me. This loving call from God became the juice my heart needed for me to start going to church every Sunday evening. Soon, I found friends from the same block joining me to church. It became a time of respect and introspection, a time away from all our running around playing soccer, tag, and just being goofy.
I could understand Jesus’ pain as he scanned the whole outer temple area while contrasting this vision with his experience as a 12-year-old.
The people and merchants doing business there felt like they were doing the right thing. A fair number of them, you could say, were “middlemen” trying to “help” people who wanted to be in the temple area to celebrate the Passover. Some of the Jews had come from afar, not bringing any animals with them to make the journey easier but had money to purchase lambs, oxen or pigeons there at the temple. Some of these businessmen were possibly not honest people either, using the occasion for ways to make more money.
Jesus proceeded to make a whip while feeling disappointment, frustration, and anger that the people had turned the temple into a place of business.
As Luke recounts the story, “Jesus entered the temple courts and drove out all who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves. “It is written,” he said to them, “‘My house will be called a house of prayer, but you are making it ‘a den of robbers.” (Luke 21:12-13)
As Jesus rested, I could see sweat on his face. He looked tired for the moment; his breathing was heavy. He had eyes of disbelief and sorrow for those he considered his brothers. They seemed to have gone astray, being in the temple for the wrong reason. They thought they were doing good in the temple area, but it was on their terms and not on God’s terms.
It was part of tradition to offer a sacrifice of animals, but Jesus wanted them to be with God in their hearts. There were people who were facilitating buying these animals, creating an area of commerce they felt was justified to help the Jews celebrate Passover. Jesus wanted the temple to be holy.
And so, I find myself sometimes struggling with my real intent to be in church. At times, I want to ask God for help as I think about challenges from work. On some occasions, I might start to pray and then my mind drifts to problem solving the obstacle of the day. Or perhaps, I find it tempting to rationalize my behavior in life in general that I meant well or maybe I was correct in my actions, but maybe I wasn’t. I forget in the moment my real reason for being in church.
It is in these moments when I want to take control of my reason for being in church and to direct my mind in prayer that I am more likely to behave like the money changers. I may be tempted to say, “I am not doing anything wrong,” or “I made time and traveled a ways to be here in church and feel a little prideful.” It is in these moments that I can tell I am not raising my heart to God; I am being resistant to letting God dwell in me.
I went to church this past Sunday with this story in the back of my head. I decided to walk in and not have an agenda, to just rest with God. It felt good to be in God’s arms, just resting. I found myself contemplating Jesus on the cross, our blessed mother and St. john by his side. I could feel that Jesus understood my challenges in prayer and accepted me just as I was. The chants from the choir seemed to elevate my heart, and after I received communion, asking Jesus to live in me, I could hear God the Father telling me, “John, you are my beloved son with whom I am well pleased.” I just went back to my pew and rested.
Thank you, Lord, to being with me, for guiding me, for holding me, for loving me. Thank you for helping me realize in church that I am your temple where you can reside in my heart.
Praying with Jesus in Capernaum
Being with Jesus in the Ignatian style of prayer (see https://www.loyolapress.com/catholic-resources/ignatian-spirituality/examen-and-ignatian-prayer/praying-the-ignatian-way-reflective-prayer/) I found myself praying with Jesus in Capernaum this week. Sometimes it’s hard to find time for prayer in the busy of the winter, but we can use our imagination and be with Jesus if we can prioritize some time to be in prayer.
This winter season has been busy with ill children. The schedule for today was full, a mix of routine care with children who were mostly ill with upper respiratory infections and its secondary bacterial infections. After waking up early around 4 am and not being able to go back to sleep, I decided to get ready to go work. Illnesses presented themselves in many forms, from simple colds to ear infections, pneumonias and bloody stools. Routine care visits sprinkled the schedule throughout the day, including well child visits and ADHD follow ups. Every parent had an opinion of their child’s illness and part of my job was to educate them on the current illness and how to help their children get better. It was a hard pace to keep up, to the point that sometimes it was a challenge trying to figure when it was a good time to go to the bathroom.
Nevertheless, after working for almost 12 hours, I came home, had dinner with Anne, took a shower and proceeded to pray in the Ignatian style of prayer. As I centered myself and prayed with God our Father, I closed my eyes and began to place myself in Capernaum with Jesus. The gospel readings this week in January have been from the Gospel of Mark, starting with Jesus being baptized in the Jordan River by John the Baptist (Mark 1: 9-11) and hearing, “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”
The Holy Spirit then takes Jesus into the wilderness (Mark 1:12-13) where he is tempted by Satan for 40 days. He then goes to the Sea of Galilee and begins to call his disciples, first Simon and his brother Andrew, and then James and John, sons of Zebedee (Mark 1:16-20). They then head to Capernaum and Jesus teaches in the synagogue on the Sabbath. Upon learning that Simon’s mother-in-law is ill, they go to her place. It is here that I begin my prayer.
I can see that the house is rustic. Simon’s mother-in-law is in a room by herself, the entrance is covered with a red curtain. Jesus proceeds to enter the room and I can see empathy in Jesus’ facial expression as he looks at her. He holds her hand and closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and just rests with her. It’s as if his energy if flowing out to her and soon thereafter, she opens her eyes and smiles. As Mark states in the gospel reading, “The fever left her, and she began to wait on them” (Mark 1:29-31). Jesus thanks our Father for helping him heal her.
Many others come for healing that evening: leprosy, pneumonias, stomach ailments. It turns into a long day for Jesus, and he decides to get up early the next morning to pray. I decide to join Jesus in prayer and head out in the cool morning. There is dew on the grass and the sun light is just barely coming up in the horizon. I close my eyes while Jesus and I sit together in this solitary field under a fig tree. We pray in quiet as we feel the Father’s peace and love. For a moment, we are one with the Father, feeling God’s love for us. It is here that we find our source of energy, full of love, as we ready to tackle another day to heal people. I thank Jesus for letting me be with him, we smile at each other, and proceed to look straight ahead as the sun continues to rise.
References
https://www.ignatianspirituality.com/ignatian-prayer/
https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=mark+1&version=NIV
This Christmas 2023
I can already see our street lined with luminaries. It is a tradition that our neighborhood has been doing for about 40 years. I am not sure if we’ll have snowflakes coming down on Christmas Eve as the last few years have been warmer than usual and we have not had snow, but families will be strolling on the sidewalks with their kids, a family-feel to the evening. The Holy Family will be in my thoughts as I get ready for mass.
I think about Jesus’ birth, and I feel engulfed with love from St. Joseph, our Blessed Mother Mary, and God our Father. I can see them in the manger, with animals nearby and the shepherds looking in awe. It is an image that I have drawn from the Bible passages, from readings in school, and from paintings. It is a picture created by my intellect, my imagination, and my memory.
But being a Christian pushes me to go deeper into my heart and beyond my intellect. I experience God in my heart as I encounter experiences in life, and if I’m humble enough and don’t get busy in my mind, I can hear God whisper to me expressions of love that God has for me, “John, you are my beloved son.” I can read as much as I want about God and Jesus, and admire the beautiful art on display, but in the end, I need to experience God in my heart.
As Pope Benedict XVI states, “being a Christian is not the result of an ethical choice or a lofty idea, but an encounter with an event, a person, which gives life a new horizon and a decisive direction.” (Father Richard Veras in Magnificat, November 2023).
Further, in Benedictus Day by Day (December 24), Pope Benedict XVI states, “God is not a conclusion we have reached by thinking, which we now offer to others in the certainty of our own perception and understanding … when we talk of the living God, it means: this God shows himself to us; he looks out from eternity into time and puts himself into relationship with us.”
Thus, I find myself in relationship with the baby Jesus as I try to practice love, being charitable and merciful. I look forward to being in relationship with my family and friends. I give myself with my time and my love for them. I may also consider giving a gift as an expression of my love. If you are looking for gift ideas for your children, spouses or relatives, you can visit the Catholics Online website and claim a free Cozy Catholic Christmas Catalog.
But in being together, we share our stories of joy and hardship. We support each other as Jesus supported the disciples, both in times of laughter but also in distress, like consoling Mary Magdalene at the resurrection (“Go instead to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.” John 20:11-18) or Peter when he thought he might drown (“Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. ‘You of little faith,’ he said, ‘why did you doubt?” Matthew 14:22-33). These interactions with the disciples extend to me as Jesus takes care of me and loves me. But I also may reciprocate this love for Jesus.
As the Baby Jesus lays in the manger, I am tempted to pick him up and cradle him in my arms. He is so fragile and so dependent on us that I want to feed him, change his diaper, maybe rock him to sleep. I can smell his baby skin and find peace in my heart as I listen to the small breaths.
It is an experience of Jesus loving me and I am also loving the Baby Jesus. It is this Baby Jesus who takes care of me, soothes me, and loves me. And in this experience, as my cup is filled, I can pass this love to others, including those I don’t know but I see on the streets as they wonder where they will stay for the night to get relief from the cold.
So, in this Advent Season, as we wait and approach Christmas Eve, I hope you feel Baby Jesus’ unconditional love for you so that in turn you can pass it on. Merry Christmas and Happy New year!
Let the Children Come to Me
“Let the children come to me” is a line from one of my favorite stories of the bible, https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=matthew+18%3A1-5&version=NIV. It is a point of intersection where the disciples are feeling annoyed and irritated by the children playing around, feeling perhaps some element of pride as they think they know better what is needed for a teaching moment. And then, there’s Jesus wanting to highlight the simplicity and humility of children.
It was the end of this summer when I found myself reflecting on this story. The air felt warm, although it was tempered by a slight breeze. The clear blue sky with occasional cloud gave me energy and excitement for soccer practice that day. As I finished lacing up my soccer shoes, I saw the middle-Schoolers roll in for practice. We were in pre-season and about two weeks away from our first game.
I was an assistant coach last year and I’m doing it again this year. My responsibilities are not as heavy as the head coach’s job, but I have been wondering if I would like to get back into that position. There’s a certain excitement that goes along with managing a team, in particular as it relates to teaching children how to play the game, from developing their individual technical skills to learning the tactical aspect of how to play as a team. The last team I coached was a competitive U19 travel team before I decided to take a break a few years ago. Now I’m looking at a group of kids who have a wide range of skill, from never having played on a team to some who are playing travel soccer.
As we went through practice, I found myself following instructions and commands from the head coach to help the kids with their drills. It was in this state of humility that I found myself in the Ignatian style of prayer one more time with Jesus in the foreground. We were in Capernaum where Jesus had done many teachings. The weather was comfortably warm with a slight breeze coming from the west. The simple tunic I wore seemed cool enough as we sat in the shade. The houses were close by and there were multiple open areas for children to play. As Matthew in Chapter 18 recounted the story, “at that time, the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” He called a child, who he put among them, and said, “truly, I tell you unless you change and become like children you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.” 1
I thought of this story and realized that being an assistant to help these children of God was actually a gift that God had given me to help me be more humble and more obedient. I desire nothing more than to be God’s servant so that I can be one with Jesus as I set my sights in God’s kingdom. It is only in this state of accepting humbly and receiving God’s love that I can return love to God.
Now two weeks later from that soccer practice, I find myself in mass today contemplating the first reading from Jeremiah and the love he is feeling for God. Jeremiah finds himself at odds with the chief officer Pashhur in the house of the Lord. After Jeremiah’s prophecies that terror will beset Jerusalem, Pashhur “struck the prophet and put him in the stocks at the upper gate of Benjamin in the House of the Lord.” (Jer 20:2)
Jeremiah finds himself in internal turmoil and exclaims, “you duped me Lord, and I let myself be duped. You were too strong for me, and you prevailed. All day long I am the object of laughter; everyone mocks me.” (Jer 20:7).
But despite his internal struggle, he cannot contain his love for God: “I say I will not mention him, I will no longer speak in his name. But then it is as if fire is burning in my heart, imprisoned in my bones. I grow weary holding back, I cannot.” (Jer 20:9)
This living flame of God, as St. John of the Cross explains in his book2, consumes my heart and wants me to do nothing else but to please God. I want to get close to God, but I have to do it from a humble position, obedient to God and to God’s people. Only by being like a simple child, pure in heart and feeling free with the Holy Spirit, can I “go here or there,” and be God’s servant, can I be more like Jesus.
Psalm 63:2-9 pops into my head, a psalm of David when he has in the wilderness of Judah. I rest in God’s arms as I pray this psalm3:
Oh, God, you are my God –
it is you I seek!
for you, my body yearns;
for you, my soul thirsts
in a land parched, lifeless, and without water.
I look to you in the sanctuary
to see your power and glory
for your love is better than life;
my lips shall ever praise you!
I will bless you as long as I live;
I will lift up my hands, calling on your name.
My soul shall be sated as with choice food,
with joyous lips my mouth shall praise you!
I think of you upon my bed,
I remember you through the watches of the night.
you indeed are my savior,
And in the shadow of your wings, I shout for joy.
My soul clings fast to you, your right hand upholds me.
References
- Matthew 18: 1-5. Bible Gateway, New International Version.
- The Living Flame of Love by St. John of the Cross. Cosimo Classics, New York, 2007. Translation by David Lewis.
- Psalm 63, New American RE Bible in Laudate App, https://catholicapps.com/laudate/
The Feast of Mary Magdalene
We celebrate on July 22nd, the Feast of Mary Magdalene. We know little about Mary but there seem to be some generally accepted truths: there were women who accompanied Jesus on his mission, some who had been cured of evil spirits, among them Mary Magdalene (Luke 8:1-2); Mary Magdalene is among the women who witness Jesus’ crucifixion (John 19:25); and Mary is the first to visit the empty tomb, tell the apostles, and then encounters the resurrected Jesus (John 20: 1-18).
Perhaps the story that I can relate the most is when she comes back after Peter and John have raced to see the empty tomb. As I place myself in the scene and let my imagination participate in the Ignatian style, meditative contemplation, I can feel Mary’s anguish and pain. It has been less than three days since Jesus was crucified. I’m having a hard time understanding why the Romans would crucify him, he seemed to be such a good person, kind and merciful. His unconditional love touched all of us and advised us to turn the other cheek when trouble and insults would arise. Even the Jewish elders were angry at him and wanted him to go away. I could feel Jesus’ love for me and how he touched my heart. The whole crucifixion seemed so barbaric with so much bleeding, it just did not seem fair!
We wanted to give Jesus a proper burial on Friday instead of leaving him on the cross, and now it seems the Romans have taken him. Or was it the gardener. I watch Mary as she interacts with the angels inside the tomb as noted in the Gospel of John:
11 Now Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb 12 and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot.
13 They asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?”
“They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I don’t know where they have put him.” 14 At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus.
15 He asked her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?”
Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”
16 Jesus said to her, “Mary.”
She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”).
17 Jesus said, “Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go instead to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”
18 Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: “I have seen the Lord!” And she told them that he had said these things to her. (John 20: 1-18, NIV) https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=john+20%3A1-18&version=NIV
How often have I found myself in Mary’s position, stuck in my own feelings of pain and sadness after an adverse event, wondering where was Jesus so he could help me out? It has been easy to be blinded by my own preoccupations, particularly if I’m feeling strongly that I want to do things my own way, make things better by myself.
But as I humble myself, acknowledging that I am so dependent on God and I am not much without God, I can feel the gardener become Jesus who looks at me and says, “John, I am right here. I have always been with you to guide you, to take care of you because you belong to me, you are one of mine. Your load may feel heavy, but I am here to lighten it. Let me love you and have mercy on you so we can go together to our Father.”
As my eyes become cloudy, I let Jesus put his arm around me and we walk together. I am no longer wondering where Jesus’ body has been placed, I know he has ascended to be with our father. Hopefully, it will not be long before it’s my turn to ascend and be with the Holy Trinity.
Thank you, Lord, for taking care of me, for guiding me, for giving me your unconditional love, for having mercy on me. May we rest in your peace.
The Solemnity of the Holy Trinity
This coming Sunday we celebrate the Solemnity of the Holy Spirit. As I contemplate this feast, memory takes me back to my battles with cancer.
In October of 2012, I found myself wondering if I was developing multiple myeloma, a cancer of the plasma cells from my bone marrow. On a routine physical exam and blood work we found a protein that was elevated, suggesting this cancer as a possibility. I had battled testicular cancer when I was in my mid-twenties with subsequent relapses in 1998 and 2000, so it was not fun to contemplate having another bout with cancer.
The medical challenge caused me to go deep in prayer, and one more time, to work on my faith in God. As I found myself contemplating the trees and leaves at a golf resort where my wife was attending a conference, I experienced a communion with the Holy Trinity and wrote this poem:
Your arms engulf me,
Your touch is delicate.
Not by the fire that purifies my soul,
But by your warmth, Father,
I realize you are here to console me.
My heart is at peace,
Weightless and without care,
For there are no regrets from yesterday,
No worries about tomorrow,
But simply joy in being here with you,
Joy to be here with my brothers and sisters.
As I rest in you
I feel complete.
I am in you,
And you are in me.1
This poem was in part inspired by Jesus’ high-priestly prayer where Jesus prays to the Father for his disciples, so that they may be one with the Father as Jesus is one with the Father.
God is calling us to be in relationship with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. The Father engulfs us with God’s arms to take care of us and to love us, to understand our shortcomings and to give us mercy. It is an energy that flows with the Holy Spirit, which listens to the Father and Son and imparts knowledge, wisdom, and love to our hearts. The Son, the Word incarnate, in full communion the Holy Spirit, has become visible and audible to what God wants us to see and hear. Jesus came into the world so that we could see and hear how God wants us to be. Everything the Father has He gives to the Son, so we too can have what the Father has. Seeing God in person through Jesus helps us relate better to God. God wants us to be in relationship with God, and we can do this if we acknowledge and realize that the Holy Trinity dwells in our hearts.
We have just celebrated the Pentecost as we awaited the arrival of the Holy Spirit. It is the tradition of our Western and Catholic church that the solemnity of the Holy Trinity comes the following Sunday after Pentecost. We started this relationship with the Holy Spirit with our baptism as the Holy water was washed over our heads. Now through our lives, we have been asked to take a risk in developing this relationship with God so that then, as Pope Benedict XVI states in Benedictus, “to risk giving oneself to the other can great love ensue.”2
When we make the choice to be in relationship with Jesus and learn how God wants us to be as God made us out to be, we take a step in the direction of risking and leaving behind the type of life we have. With the Holy Spirit burning in our hearts, we can make decisions daily to live as Jesus lived, imparting love, understanding and charity to all.
We are invited to share in this relationship within the Holy Trinity, to experience this energy of Three in One to help stabilize us from the chaos of the material world. In turn, we are invited and called to be in harmony with our community as we share the energy, love, and charity of the Holy Trinity with each other. Then, as a community, can we then reflect our world in the truth as God intended it to be.
Saints help us learn of God’s ways. One such saint is St. Elizabeth of the Trinity, who was born in 1880 in France and grew up near Dijon which had a Carmelite monastery. After reading the original and first edition of St. Therese of Lisieux’s Story of a Soul, she decided to become a Carmelite nun. She died of Addison’s disease at the age of 26. Pope Francis canonized her as a saint in October 2016.3
St. Elizabeth of the Trinity is known for her poem, “Oh My God, Trinity Whom I Adore.”
“O my God, Trinity whom I adore, help me forget myself entirely so to establish myself in you, unmovable and peaceful as if my soul were already in eternity. May nothing be able to trouble my peace or make me leave you, O my unchanging God, but may each minute bring me more deeply into your mystery! Grant my soul peace. Make it your heaven, your beloved dwelling, and the place of your rest. May I never abandon you there, but may I be there, whole, and entire, completely vigilant in my faith, entirely adoring, and wholly given over to your creative action.”4
St. Elizabeth of the Trinity, pray for us!
References
- Finding God Again and Again by John Spitzer
- Benedictus, Day by Day with Pope Benedict XVI. Ignatius Press, Magnificat 2006.
- Catholic News Agency & St. Elizabeth of the Trinity
- spiritualdirection.com & St. Elizabeth of the Trinity
The Solemnity of St. John Bosco
We celebrate on January 31st the Solemnity of St. John Bosco, who founded the Salesians of Don Bosco who give assistance and educate the poor children across the world.
Learning about St. John Bosco in Colombia
I remember when I first entered the catholic schools in first grade. I wondered about the priests’ white cassocks and if these outfits made them closer to God. There was a mysticism about their behavior and how they conducted themselves: adults with wisdom and knowledge who commanded respect and obedience, but also had a sense of humor and seemed kind, and easy to talk with. I wanted to get close to them, but not too close. Making the jump from a public kindergarten to a catholic school seemed to have enough unknowns. I needed to make new friends, meet new teachers, learn about the new classrooms and the cafeteria. I even wondered if the students at San Juan Bosco elementary in Cali, Colombia, South America, were different children from me, or whether they were they just like me.
With time, I became more comfortable in the new school environment. I made new friends and became acquainted with my new teacher, who fortunately knew both English and Spanish. When we moved to Cali, Colombia that year, I only knew English. Learning Spanish was a challenge, but I made friends who were eager to teach me their language as much as they wanted to learn some words in English. As I progressed in elementary, I came to appreciate the school’s teachings of compassion, kindness, and care for the poor. With time, these virtues became a way of life for me, and today I thank Don Bosco for helping me be God’s instrument.
Who was St. John Bosco?
As we celebrate the Solemnity of St. John Bosco, I think about his life and the challenges he had during his mission. Born Giovanni Bosco in 1815, he lost his father at the age of two and was raised, along with his 2 older brothers, by his mother Margherita. They were a poor family in Turin, Italy, where John worked as a farmer and shepherd. Despite their difficult financial circumstances and food limitations, they felt a strong sense of duty to feed the poor and hungry. John became a priest at the age of 26 years, founded the Salesian Order in 1859, and was canonized by Pope Pius XI in 1934, giving him the title of “Father and Teacher of the Youth.”
Dreams became an important way for God to communicate with Don Bosco. At the age of nine, he had his first prophetic dream where he found himself with a group of children who were being mean to each other, swearing and hitting each other. A man whose face was filled with light and dressed in a white flowing mantle appeared and told him, “You will have to win these friends not with blows, but with gentleness and kindness.1” Thus began his vocation and dedication to children. Later in his teen years, he learned to perform magic, acrobatics, and tricks after watching a circus perform in town. He used these tricks to get children’s attention and then discuss with them the homilies from the mass. At this point in his life, he discerned he wanted to become a priest.2
His style of work leaned on being patient, kind and understanding. Another dream that he had of walking on roses and thorns helped him develop perseverance. He needed this virtue to tackle the obstacles he faced through his mission. Government officials wanted him out of the way as they saw the homeless children as a nuisance and a danger; the entrepreneurs from the industrial revolution saw him as an obstacle to using the children for manual labor; he opposed the political fanatics who wanted to recruit the young for political gains; the bishop opposed his work, misunderstanding Don Bosco’s passion for pride; people from the “house of sin” near his oratory saw Don Bosco as an obstacle to their “business.”
But he was able to persevere because of his life in prayer. In particular, he had a deep devotion to our Blessed Mother. His way with children and teens, along with his sense of humor and teaching abilities, allowed many orphans to learn about God and learn trade skills for later in life. Today, the Salesian brothers are present in 1,830 institutions in 128 countries.2
We all care for children
When I think about the people and circumstances of life that played a role in my choosing to care for children, I think about those years at San Juan Bosco elementary in Cali, Colombia. As I contemplate the gift that God has given me to take care of children, I also think about all of us parents caring for our children, and the love we give them just as Jesus and Mary show their love for us.
Putting the final touches on this blog, I think of Jesus with his disciples. Jesus had left Capernaum and had gone into the region of Judea and across the Jordan. Children were coming to Him, and the disciples were becoming annoyed and indignant. Reading from the gospel of Mark:
He said to them, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. 15 Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” 16 And he took the children in his arms, placed his hands on them and blessed them.3
References:
- Don Bosco film, Ignatius Press 2012, San Francisco, CA. Booklet text by Tim Drake and Anthony Ryan.
- catholic.org and St. John Bosco
- Mark 10:14-16 in Biblegateway.com, NIV
