Last November I wrote a series of reflections about our Holy Cross Cemetery at Notre Dame. You can find them from November 2019 on my blog. Here is a reflection for 2020.

CLICK here to read the recent obituaries from our CSC website.

I visited Holy Cross cemetery at Notre Dame during Labor Day weekend.

I did not need a mask to visit my brothers.  

However, two of our men from our province died of COVID-19 this year. Fr. Gene served in Bangladesh for many years and is buried among us at Notre Dame. Fr. Bob served in Chile and died of the pandemic.

Archbishop Costa in Chittagong, Bangladesh also died of this world-wide disease. Even a bishop is vulnerable to such illness and the common denominator of death. He is buried in Bangladesh.

I remember Fr. Bob well from the 1970’s. He was tall in stature. His life as a missionary loomed large at the table in the seminary refectory. He would visit family once a year with a stop-off at the seminary for some rest. He is laid to rest among other giants who gave everything to the world-wide Church. A missionary of God has to have strong shoulders.

I stopped and prayed at Fr. Bill’s headstone. He was one of my pastors. He loved Jesus. Bill cracked me up. Thursday was his day off. He always golfed.  One Friday, my day off, I asked him if he had ever been to an art museum in Los Angeles. He quipped, “Gosh, Ron, it has never rained that hard on a Thursday.” I loved him. He always desired to preach from his true relationship with Jesus.

Fr. David died at 55 this year. His large family prepared him to live and serve among young people at Notre Dame. He was pastor of Sacred Heart Church. I prayed to the Sacred Heart the day he died, since I know what it means to rely on the mercy, the heart- warmth, of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. He loved the color orange. I noticed a pair of orange framed sunglasses on his tombstone. I pray he sees the truth of his life and the bountiful presence of Jesus.

The line of tombstones has grown long since I first entered the community as a freshman in 1974. As I strolled along the line of crosses, I stopped at Fr. John’s. He died in 1980. I cared for him at Holy Cross in 1976-77. I sure have been thinking about him lately.

The first time I entered his room, I was drawn to his body curled up in bed. Silence seemed to be his partner and his prayer. As I raised my eyes and glanced around the room, I was so struck that he did not have a single possession of his own in the room. He was unable to care for himself. Yet, he did not have a token or prayer card or photograph in the room that could remind him of his life and priesthood.

As a young religious, I was taken aback by the starkness of the room. I could not image why no one had surrounded him with a few reminders of who he was and the people he had ministered among in his life. I felt in my heart the poverty of his life. As I left the room, I touched the bareness of the cold walls.

A few months ago, as I was praying about him, something happened. A new insight swept by my heart like an oak leaf carried by the autumn wind in the cemetery. I realized that Fr. John’s prayer had readied him to go home. He had shed his possessions and was open for Jesus’ invitation. I had imposed my youthful notions on a holy man. As I cared for his body, he had already done the work of letting go. I see this now only in my sixties.

Every time I visit this cemetery, the stories become so real again. My teachers never quit reminding me to hold fast to Jesus. I pray to let go of youthful pride and befriend the journey home.

After my September visit to the cemetery, I put on a mask and celebrated our men who were ordained deacons and priests that autumn day at the Basilica of the Sacred Heart.

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32^nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Dear Believers in the Kingdom,

In Matthew’s text today for Mass, the ten virgins are waiting for the bride groom. “Stay awake!” is the call and command not only for them but for us as we come to the conclusion of another liturgical year in a couple of weeks. Being ready for the Kingdom is our real goal here on earth. The conclusion of the liturgical year is a metaphor for the end of time, not only for our own individual lives, but for the end of life as we know it. Death for the believer is not a threat, not something we dismiss or shun. The end, of course, is our real home with God.

The ten virgins argue about having enough oil for the lamps. I believe this is a metaphor that no one can help another person prepare for the Kingdom. The virgins wanted the other virgins to share the oil. They said no. That is because people need to find their own way to God and to prepare for God in their own ways.

In other words, the work of life and most especially of death, is up to each of us. We all die alone, no matter the money we have saved or how many family members surround our death bed or the power and authority we have accumulated in life. The act of death is a matter of our individual souls. We can either fear death or push it out of our minds and then postpone our preparation until our last breath. We are sure to settle into fear if we push such reflection down the road. Life is incredibly beautiful and so is death. The virgins hold up a lantern to help us find the light as well.

In the sacred liturgy, we have remembered All Saints and All Souls in this past week. Throughout the month of November, images, prayers, metaphors and love help us heal our grief and carry on our lives. I love this month when the Church offers us opportunities to remember that Christ’s passion, death and resurrection become the pattern we all face in life. We cannot escape death nor the grief we feel when a loved one is welcomed home. Death is fuel for faith. God’s love is the beginning of wisdom.

In my ministry, I encounter many people who fear death. Their lives are full of rage because they cannot control every aspect of living here on earth. I remember an aunt of mine who lost a son in his prime. She never got over his death. She never gave herself permission to let go of him. No other person could help her or save her from such grief as losing a child. That was also in an era where people seldom grieved in public nor even behind closed doors. She grew more and more angry at life, her relatives and friends. Bitterness takes hold when grief is squelched in a soul.

The Old Testament reading from Mass today gives us the goal of perspective and of age and maturity. Wisdom. How beautiful to find wisdom in our lives if we truly trust in the mystery of life, of God, and the beauty of death. Wisdom is resplendent and unfading. Wisdom is revealed upon our asking and makes itself known at dawn. So, when we are faced with profound grief, weariness of life, and when life does not turn out as we had planned, wisdom becomes a cushion to rest our souls. Wisdom happens when our hearts are open, when we have the courage to reflect on life and trust God in prayer. Real wisdom happens in the second half of life. The virgins in the gospel were either foolish or wise.

I pray for such a gift in everyone in our parish, that wisdom may calm the uproars of violence. I pray wisdom may put out the flames of mistrust and hatred among us. I pray we may face the consequences of our own lives so we may be freed with wisdom to live lives of integrity and justice. Wisdom takes a heart that is ready for life beyond our own. Selfishness and self-sufficiency squelch a wise heart. Wisdom is the result of humility and tenderness as we face even the harshest of realities, even death itself.

“Therefore, stay awake, for you know neither the day or the hour.”

God give you peace,

Fr. Ron

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Dear Followers of Jesus,

Today is All Saint’s Day. This year, November 1, falls on Sunday. So, we celebrate the gift of our saints in Christ Jesus in our Sunday Masses. I love the official catalogue of canonized saints. I take great consolation in their commitment. I am inspired by their lives here on earth. Some saints are quirky, and many may even seem weird. Yet, they all gave their lives to God in the ways in which they were called to love and serve. 

The saint is really someone here on earth who discovers love of God and love of neighbor. Saints discover an intentional life, that is, they pray in the moment, they love with integrity and they act with great discernment. Saints reveal that a relationship with God is absolutely possible here on earth. They learned in the deepest places of their hearts to trust God, to surrender everything to the mystery of God’s love for them. The amazing thing about saints is that we can’t imitate their lives. We can learn from them about God’s fidelity and grace, but to imitate them exactly does not make us saints. We have to do the work of prayer in our own lives. In other words, we can’t live someone else’s life. That does not make us a saint. 

The only way into the depths of God’s love and fidelity is to live the truth of our own lives. This may take us years to discover. Theresa of Avila and Oscar Romero show us that it takes many years to finally realize our call and act upon such a reality. Some people know it early in life or give up all they possess in order to carve a new path. Francis of Assisi is such an example. Mary Magdalene had the privilege of gazing into the eyes of Jesus and many other saints came to know the face of Christ in the poor, the suffering or disabled. Some saints are intellects and some are hermits. Some are clerics and some are widows. Each life on earth is a mystery, and each life on earth has the potential of becoming a mystic, that is a person who realizes that God’s love is the guide for his or her life. In many ways, each of us is called to become a mystic, to live a life of prayer and service and to realize that God is our true identity. 

The road map to becoming a saint is today’s gospel, Matthew 5: 1-12. The Beatitudes are always read on All Saint’s Day. We may hear this gospel at a funeral or even an ordination. These Beatitudes are the commandments of Jesus given to the disciples in his voice on the side of a mountain. They are often overlooked as a path to holiness because they are not as dogmatic as the Ten Commandments. This list is centered on Christ Jesus and at its core is love. Love is often dismissed as a way to faith because it is often seen as only romantic silliness. However, this list gives us the real mission of the Church. This list is far more difficult than the Ten Commandments.  

The Beatitudes offer us a path to heaven and a saintly life here on earth. They do so because they first lift up the poor. They affirm our challenge to offer mercy and not hatred, love and not violence. This list is the most radical statement of faith in the gospels and it is the list that is seldom trusted or made real. It changes not only hearts, but society and the world. It overthrows what we may think life should be and what justice is all about. It turns the tables on our notions of how to live and how to survive in society. Perhaps the Beatitudes are the reason why there are so few saints today, because at first glance, they turn life inside out. 

How difficult today it is to act mercifully. Mercy after all is not a commodity; it is a result of knowing God from within our hearts. We can’t manufacture mercy or peace or comfort toward the grieving. The Beatitudes are lived in hearts that first know and understand the fidelity of God. The Beatitudes carve an empty place within our hearts only to be filled with God’s love, integrity and power. These words from Jesus are radical and the concepts are countercultural. Yet, they remain a blueprint for sainthood. 

We all desire to live in the love God has for each of us. We can’t duplicate a life set free in God’s faithfulness nor can we copy exactly how God desires us to serve and to act in our Church and world. The fire of faith is given to each of us as God desires. Collectively in the Church, we call people who know such fire, saints. We celebrate such a gift and mystery this day on the Solemnity of All Saints. 

“Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven.” 

God give you peace,

Fr. Ron Raab, CSC, Pastor

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October 25, 2020

30^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Dear Followers of the Holy One,

Today’s gospel, Matthew 22: 34-40, reveals a two-fold action toward holiness. We are to love God and then learn how to love people. This is the foundation of the Christian life. We may easily learn one or the other. However, putting both into practice changes us and the world.

My years of priesthood have taught me many things. My ministry has been a form of spiritual direction for me. Learning to love is never easy in any commitment. I am still learning how to love God with all my heart, soul and mind, and my neighbor as myself. I am no model of fidelity. Yet, the purpose of the Christian life is to learn how to love.

Sometimes we get caught in thinking that love is the fidelity of keeping rules in the Church. They may be guides toward love, but we do not have an intimate relationship with rules. Rules and dogma do not replace the person of Jesus Christ. Unless Jesus is at the center of our lives, what we do in the Church has little meaning.

One of the most touching encounters with people who have taught me such fidelity came from a woman I met while in Portland. She had been severely abused as a child and gave up on the Church. She gave up because she always thought she needed to heal her own life. She showed up in our community that served people every day. Service was obvious and real. Yet, she needed to learn how to do that.

I listened to her for many years. Every inch of her pain was exposed to God. She spent many decades in therapy, but never spoke to any one of faith in the Church.  I have never heard with my own ears the ache in a human soul like hers. God had her in his hand. Every inch of healing was a struggle, yet she believed with her entire being that God was with her. That was a very slow and arduous process. In our conversations, I helped her realize that God does the healing and not her. She was flabbergasted at such a notion. Once that damn broke in her, she allowed God in and God moved her toward an incredible fidelity of prayer and service.

As I would listen to her, I wept. She moved me so much as a human instrument of pain and love. She absolutely understood the message of today’s gospel, that love has to be at the center of life, that only God can heal, satisfy and claim our souls. I know in her as I reflect on her suffering, that life had given her such raw pain and that God had revealed a depth of love to heal her. When I knew her, she was in her sixty’s, so I know it is never too late to discover the love we are searching for in God. God’s timing is not our timing. I know that she helped me discover God’s faithful love in my own life as I listened to her.

So, years have gone by and I don’t know what has happened to her. I do know that her search for God’s love and her search to love people are still with me. Especially in these difficult times in our world, I go back to such people who reveal to me that the message of this gospel is real in every human heart. The message of loving God and loving people may very well be hidden among people we least expect, people on the periphery of life, people suffering from mental illness or addiction or in some way out of the norm of what we think the center of life is or should be.

We all have faced uncertainty and fear in our world in these months of pandemic. Such fear within us may very well be the door that is opening for us to claim the love of God. If our hearts remain in prayer, reflection, and we sort through the fear that evolves in our hearts, we may walk through these dark days becoming a people of hope. I so desire that for my own life, and I am sure you do as well.

Please, don’t let fear make a permanent home in you. Today’s gospel reminds us that love is the way to prayer and service. Only love through the complexities of fear, grief and loss may lead us to another side of life and the other side is love itself. God is in charge and God is in charge of the healing we need. So, please, allow God to do God’s work in you and in us.

Love is the greatest commandment. This is the rule to follow, love God and love neighbor.

God give you peace,

Fr. Ron

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10th Anniversary of the Canonization of Saint André Bessette

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On Sunday October 17, 2010, Pope Benedict canonized the first member of the Congregation of Holy Cross, Brother André Bessette. Alfred (André) Bessette was born near Montreal, Canada on August 9, 1845. He was sickly, poor, and a man of faith. When he joined the Congregation of Holy Cross, he was assigned to serve as porter. He welcomed people at the door for over forty years. His hospitality turned into healing the sick and offering consolation for the hungry, the destitute, and crippled. He died on January 6, 1937. Please visit our website http://www.sacredheartcos.org to learn more about Brother André.

At Sacred Heart Church, a first-class relic of Saint André Bessette is housed in our new altar. His life as healer remains at the center of parish life and worship. His simplicity speaks boldly today as we ache for healing from a pandemic and the violence of our divided society. Through the intercession of Saint André, pray for healing for our loved ones who have died of COVID-19 and those who grieve. Pray for the healing of racial divides, for those who have lost jobs, for people who live outside, for the unborn, for reconciliation among families and those who survive domestic violence. Pray for our children who have lost hope. Ask Saint André to intercede to God for what your heart aches.

Saint Andre, pray for us:

You welcomed the lost.

                  Shelter those who travel in fear.

You embraced the weary.

                  Calm the storms of our anguish.

You lived simply.

                  Guide us through our complicated lives.

You healed the sick.

                  Give us hope when we are in pain.

You trusted Saint Joseph.

                   Open the door to God’s providence.

You embodied hope.

                   Give us respect for every human being.

You lived every day with body pain.

                    Heal our bodies during this pandemic.

You trusted your life to Jesus.

                    Show us how to live beyond selfishness.

You prayed for the ill.

                    Change our agony into courage.

You comforted the sinner.

                    Love us in our anguish.

You offered hospitality to all people.

                   Help us heal our racial divides.

You prayed during sleepless nights.

                  Reassure us when we are restless.

You were illiterate.

                   Help us read the signs of the times.

You were orphaned.

                   Form our communities with respect and dignity.

You were short in stature.

                   Pray that we may stand tall when politics wearies us.

You gave your life to others.

                  Guide us to build the Church on trust.

You allowed compassion to guide you.

                  Show us the tenderness of the Sacred Heart.

Amen