Dear John, Good morning, good people! What a blessing it is to greet you every morning this week. I pray that the season of Advent encircles you with warmth and hope. Thank you for joining us in our Rebuilding God’s Church, $125K match campaign that will run through Easter of next year. It's a big project and without you, it is not possible. Click here to make a donation. In today's Advent meditation, Father Greg Friedman, OFM, writes about St. Peter, apostle, believer, and bishop of Rome. How terrified he must have been at the thought of building and fortifying a new Church. But he cast out those fears because the work demanded it. His was a mission fueled by grace and grit. I marvel at the early Church fathers. In smaller ways, we at Franciscan Media work every day to do our part in building up God's Church. Centuries after Peter, St. Francis did his part. Many generations after him, we are doing the same—and that work is not possible without you. More information about this work can be found on our Rebuilding God’s Church page. As the birth of Christ approaches, I am filled with awe and with hope. I wish for you the same! |
Deacon Matthew Halbach, PhD
President & Publisher, Franciscan Media
|
Saint of the Day for December 5:
Sabas (439 – December 5, 532) Listen to Saint Sabas’ Story Here Born in Cappadocia, Sabas is one of the most highly regarded patriarchs among the monks of Palestine, and is considered one of the founders of Eastern monasticism. After an unhappy childhood in which he was abused and ran away several times, Sabas finally sought refuge in a monastery. While family members tried to persuade him to return home, the young boy felt drawn to monastic life. Although the youngest monk in the house, he excelled in virtue. At age 18 he traveled to Jerusalem, seeking to learn more about living in solitude. Soon he asked to be accepted as a disciple of a well-known local solitary, though initially he was regarded as too young to live completely as a hermit. Initially, Sabas lived in a monastery, where he worked during the day and spent much of the night in prayer. At the age of 30 he was given permission to spend five days each week in a nearby remote cave, engaging in prayer and manual labor in the form of weaving baskets. Following the death of his mentor, Saint Euthymius, Sabas moved farther into the desert near Jericho. There he lived for several years in a cave near the brook Cedron. A rope was his means of access. Wild herbs among the rocks were his food. Occasionally men brought him other food and items, while he had to go a distance for his water. Some of these men came to him desiring to join him in his solitude. At first he refused. But not long after relenting, his followers swelled to more than 150, all of them living in individual huts grouped around a church, called a laura. The bishop persuaded a reluctant Sabas, then in his early 50s, to prepare for the priesthood so that he could better serve his monastic community in leadership. While functioning as abbot among a large community of monks, he felt ever called to live the life of a hermit. Throughout each year—consistently in Lent—he left his monks for long periods of time, often to their distress. A group of 60 men left the monastery, settling at a nearby ruined facility. When Sabas learned of the difficulties they were facing, he generously gave them supplies and assisted in the repair of their church. Over the years Sabas traveled throughout Palestine, preaching the true faith and successfully bringing back many to the Church. At the age of 91, in response to a plea from the Patriarch of Jerusalem, Sabas undertook a journey to Constantinople in conjunction with the Samaritan revolt and its violent repression. He fell ill and soon after his return, died at the monastery at Mar Saba. Today the monastery is still inhabited by monks of the Eastern Orthodox Church, and Saint Sabas is regarded as one of the most noteworthy figures of early monasticism. Reflection Few of us share Sabas’ yearning for a cave in the desert, but most of us sometimes resent the demands others place on our time. Sabas understands that. When at last he gained the solitude for which he yearned, a community immediately began to gather around him, and he was forced into a leadership role. He stands as a model of patient generosity for anyone whose time and energy are required by others—that is, for all of us.
|
Advent with the Saints: Peter Our Scriptures today play with the same imagery: the “Rock” who is our God. In relationship with God, we find the same security the ancients found of living in a city. The prophet Isaiah asks us to put an even deeper trust in God. Jesus takes the image and applies it to the faithful disciple who hears Jesus’ words and acts on them, comparing such a follower to a man who wisely built his house on rock. No wonder, then, that Jesus saw qualities in Peter that prompted the nickname “Rocky.” We’re left to speculate what physical and emotional traits might have prompted the title. The Gospel stories do give us clues in a number of tantalizing moments when Peter interacted with Jesus. He accepted Peter’s profession of faith, and challenged him to follow on the way of the cross. Jesus never lost faith in Peter, despite Peter’s human weaknesses. What traits does Jesus see in you and me? What “grounds” our relationship with Christ?
—adapted from the book Advent with the Saints: Daily Reflections
by Greg Friedman, OFM |
Reading the Words on the Signs Reflect “Homeless Need Help.” “Homeless Vet. Anything Helps. God Bless.” “Hungry Please Help.” Messages like these are often scrawled across cardboard in permanent marker, held by men and women across the age, race, and cultural spectra. Perhaps they are standing near an exit ramp or outside a convenience store. Perhaps we don’t see them at all sometimes. But God sees them. St. Francis saw the lepers in the valley below Assisi, and came to love them deeply, but it didn’t happen overnight. Like Francis, we can take steps to embrace the “least of these brothers of mine” (Mt 25:40), but also like Francis, it will take some humility and maybe even a little embarrassment and awkwardness along the way. Pray God of abundance,
Some of us don’t have to worry about when or where our next meal will be.
But that’s not the case for many in this land of surplus.
We ask you to shine your light of love just a little brighter
on the faces of those struggling with finding housing, food, and safety.
May your love ease their afflictions and guide them to a place of well-being and wholeness.
May your love “infect” our hearts and break down the barriers we put up between ourselves and those who we might prefer to not have to deal with or even see with our own eyes.
Let us look into the eyes of the other, the sufferer, your son.
Amen. Act There are so many ways to help and give back, it’s almost impossible to not find something that works for you. Whether it’s the gift of time, material, or simple acknowledgment of someone as a child of God, the light of goodness is easy to share, but not if your heart is hardened. Before looking into how to help (at a soup kitchen, donating to a charity, participating in a canned-food drive), check your heart. Do you feel drawn to the warmth of compassionate giving? Trust that sense. Today's Pause+Pray was written by Daniel Imwalle. Learn more here! |
This newsletter is not free to produce! Please consider making a donation to help us in our efforts to share God's love in the spirit of St. Francis. |
|
