Pages

Friday, July 10, 2015

An Explanation of My Stash of Miraculous Medals

The Miraculous Medal
"O Mary conceived without sin, pray for us who have
recourse to thee!"
It was my last day teaching at Cathedral Academy. The last day came earlier than I had expected because I’d just been told I wouldn’t be able to make the Thirty Day Retreat as a Jesuit novice. I went into each classroom just to say goodbye to the kids I’d taught that Fall. I didn’t tell them I’d been dismissed, just that my grandfather was sick and I was going to have to go back to Maine sooner than I’d planned. They were tough goodbyes.

When I got to the 5th grade classroom, I told them what a wonderful four months it had been teaching them religion every Tuesday and Thursday and that I was going to have to leave earlier than expected. I went to leave the classroom when the kids objected.

“You can’t leave Br. Joe! Teach us one more thing!” I looked at Ms. Pickard. She shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “Teach us one more thing, Br. Joe! Just one more thing!” I said okay.

Mother Teresa was deeply
devoted to the Miraculous Medal
After a moment of thought, I pulled out my Miraculous Medal. “Do you guys see this? I got it in Calcutta, India when I was working with the Missionaries of Charity.  Do you know what it is? Our Lady appeared to St. Catherine Laboure back in the 1850s and showed her the image on this medal.[1] It’s like a mini-catechism. All the essential truths of our faith are symbolized here. Our Lady promised to take care of whoever wore this medal and miracles have been attributed through her prayers.” My eyes were dry up till now, but it became more difficult as I went on.

“Mother Teresa was very devoted to the Miraculous Medal. She used to hand them out by the fistfuls and say that whenever you’re in need, simply kiss the Miraculous Medal and say, ‘Mary be a mother to me now’ and you can always be sure that you will have a mother in her. You guys will be in middle school not too long from now. Things will get tough. There will be times when your faith is shaken and you feel alone. Don’t. Just kiss the medal and say, ‘Mary, be a mother to me now.’ She’ll always take care of you. Trust me.” The kids had sat with rapt attention through this last lesson. When I’d finished, they ran up to me, gave me a big group hug and promised me that they would all strive to become saints.

The altar of the Miraculous Medal
in the Basilica of the National Shrine
in DC. I used to pray here often.
I had known from when I began that my time at Cathedral Academy would be short. I would have a few privileged months to help guide them towards Christ. But when my time was done, I had to rest content with whatever I had been able to do up till that point. Now there was nothing to do but to put them in Our Lady’s hands. I had to leave, but she would never leave them. I entrusted her with their guidance and protection, knowing that whenever they were in need of a mother, she would be there for them.

A month later I ordered a bulk shipment of Miraculous Medals and sent half of them to my former classes at Cathedral Academy.

A lot of you at CYFM have gotten Miraculous Medals from me. In fact, judging from the number I have left, roughly fifty of you have gotten Miraculous Medals. If you were wondering where I got so many, now you know. If you were wondering what the Miraculous Medal was and didn’t catch the brief, muttered explanation I gave as I handed it to you, check out this link: http://www.motherofallpeoples.com/2004/09/mother-teresa-and-the-miraculous-medal/ However, if you were wondering, “Why?” I wanted to take a moment to answer that.

"Woman, behold thy son!"
The Miraculous Medal is powerful. As Christ hung the cross, He turned to St. John and said, “Son, behold thy Mother.” Then He turned to Our Lady and said, “Woman, behold thy son.” In that moment, He wasn’t just talking about St. John. Christ gave us the greatest gift He had: that the love Mary had given Him would now be given to the world. He made Mary the mother of the whole human race.[2]

The Miraculous Medal is a sign of her motherly love for us and she gave it to us herself. See those rays that radiate from her fingertips on the Miraculous Medal? Those are rays of grace being poured out through her intercession for her children. She is constantly praying for us before the throne of her Son. See the serpent under her feet? That’s the devil: she’s stomping on his head. All the dangers and afflictions we face she drives away so that nothing will keep us from her Son. See how on the back there’s an M and a bar through it with a cross on top? That’s Mary calling us to the altar, to be fed by an intimate union with her Son.

We all need a mother sometimes: someone to care for us, someone to guide us, someone to pick us up when we fall. I know in my life Mary has been just that mother to me. The word “miraculous” wouldn’t be an unfair to describe the way she has come to through to me. I won’t describe it here but if you want to know about miracles associated with the Miraculous Medal, those are no secret. The most famous story is about the conversion of an anti-Catholic Jew named Alphonse Ratisbonne: http://www.marypages.com/ratisbonneEng.htm He converted to the Faith when Our Lady herself appeared to him while he was wearing the medal. A more modern and less well known miracle is recounted here by Fr. Hardon: http://www.therealpresence.org/eucharst/mir/mirmedal.htm A young boy came out of a coma as Fr. Hardon put the medal around his neck.

Our Lady appearing to St. Catherine Laboure
None of you (that I know of) need a miraculous cure right now nor do I think a Marian apparition is necessary to strengthen your faith. But I suspect there are times when you do need a mother. It’s not that your own mother’s not adequate, but you will need the love of your mother in Heaven. Simply kiss the medal and she will comfort you when you are down. Kiss the medal and you will find guidance when you're lost and confused. Kiss the medal and the most determined and powerful intercessor will be praying for you in Heaven: the mother of the King of Kings and your mother. 

I hope in the course of this year I’ve pointed you in some way toward Christ. It’s given me great joy watching you encounter His joy and His love; for every talk I’ve given, for every small group I’ve led, there have been a lot more prayers after the fact aimed at the people I gave those talks to. But like my time at Cathedral Academy, it’s short. While my presence fades, my desire to see you grow in your faith and live in Christ’s love and joy doesn’t. So now like my kids at Cathedral Academy, I’m placing all of you in Our Lady’s hands. May Mary be always a mother to you!


[1] For a more in depth account of the apparitions to St. Catherine Laboure, check out this article: http://www.miraclesofthechurch.com/2010/11/miraculous-medal-apparition-of-virgin.html

[2] For the theological skeptics, consider that just as Christ is the new Adam, Mary is the new Eve. Through Eve’s disobedience, sin entered the world. Through Mary’s yes to bearing the Son of God, sin and death were conquered. Eve was the first to know sin; Mary was the first conceived without it. Finally, Eve the first woman was the mother of the human race. Now Mary, the second Eve is made mother of all the faithful. That’s why Christ doesn’t refer to her as “mother” but as “woman,” the woman foretold in Genesis who would stomp on the head of Satan, the second Eve, now the mother of all the redeemed. 

Witness to Service: COP 2015

Getting ready to give my witness talk on COP
Over the past two years, I have committed to full time service. I served in South Jersey last year, and this year at CYFM. Both organizations emphasize simple living, a ministry of presence, and intentional community. These three components proved especially critical, as I experienced life-changing events, shaping me for who I am today.

After graduate school I was still unsure about what I was doing or where I was going. But then, in the midst of making travel arrangements to visit my late Aunt Emma for her 100th birthday, something in my heart told me that I should take off a few days and volunteer at a soup kitchen in Philadelphia called St. Francis Inn. I had always wanted to go there and help out, and this would be a chance to do that! I thought about the Gospel of Matthew Chapter 25:40, “whatever you did for the least of my brethren you did for me.” Matthew 25 has taught me the importance of seeing God in others, and helping them to reach their potential.

At the St. Francis Inn, I became aware of a yearlong service opportunity with Franciscan Volunteer Ministry. After a long application and interview process, I was assigned to serve for 11 months in Camden, New Jersey. Little did I know, this commitment would be a turning point in my life, and would help shape me into the man I am today.

In August 2013, I left behind three jobs to embark on a new chapter in my faith journey at St. Anthony of Padua Church and School. During these 11 months, I lived very modestly, and in an intentional community with three other volunteers. It doesn’t sound ideal, but the people I encountered and the life-changing experiences were priceless.

The first component of service that I encountered was simple living. This means that I not only sought out to serve the poor, but each member of my community was intentionally living off of $80 per month. But, there were people I encountered in Camden who had close to nothing! By living simply, I was living in solidarity with those who I came to serve, and who could not help themselves, while understanding them on a personal level.

While living in service over the past two years, I have vastly come to appreciate the importance of this ministry. First, there was this place at St. Anthony known as Francis House. For 19 years, Francis House ministered to HIV and AIDS patients; and was full of many phenomenal people who I will forever call my brothers and sisters. And during my time in Camden, I vastly learned the importance of sitting down and sharing a hot home cooked meal with someone, and hearing their story. This, ladies and gentleman, is known as the ministry of presence.

The ministry of presence, without a doubt, touched the hearts of our brothers and sisters at Francis House. I’ll never forget my relationship, with a gentleman named Keith. Keith did not have much or many people outside of Francis House that he could talk to. Regardless, he always walked in with a positive attitude and the biggest smile I’ve ever seen. It was phenomenal, sitting with him, eating multiple helpings, and hearing his story. He would refer to me as his “brother from another mother.” Sadly, Keith passed away last March; but his spirit will forever live on at Francis House and at St. Anthony’s.

Overall, the ministry of presence at Francis House taught me the importance of treating all humans with dignity. Here, we did not treat people differently, but as brothers and sisters in Christ. Though Francis House is now closed, it will forever remain a very special place in my heart. Truly, this is a place that I consider to be a home away from home.

In addition to Francis House, I discovered how important the ministry of presence was to the parishioners at St. Anthony Church. Our neighbor, Vinny, suffered a stroke a while back, and cannot get around much. Often times, Vinny would have conversations for hours, and would drive me CRAZY. However, it took me a while to realize that it’s not as easy for Vinny to have a conversation with someone, who would get very lonely, especially around the holidays. My experience with Vinny taught me the importance of not only listening, but appreciating the community around me, and how fortunate I am to have someone to talk to.

While working at CYFM, I was blessed with the opportunity of serving at Wingate Nursing Home, this past January. Yes, this was a different type of ministry than Francis House, but the gift of the ministry of presence was still alive and well. I did not expect the opportunity to play games, exercise, listen to folk music, or share a few laughs with some wonderful people who will forever touch my heart. This ministry had its share of similarities and differences with Francis House, but it really was about being present and listening to someone else’s story. I remember these three ladies, always enjoyed having me around at their lunch table, as we together shared many stories and laughs among each other. This week, I’m fortunate, yet again, with the opportunity to serve at Wingate, and see some of the same people I encountered in January who changed my heart for the better.

The last component of service, I encountered and really learned to appreciate is living in an intentional community. Over the past two years, I have lived in two intentional communities, which have been there for me during life’s most challenging times. Right before Christmas 2013, I received some distraught news in the midst of a very busy holiday season at the church and school. My father sat me down the Friday before Christmas, and informed me that he had been diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer, and did not have long to live. This news vastly changed my approach to life, as my whole world came to a rapid halt. I knew there would have to be some changes made in my life.

However, I could not have endured the devastating and life-changing news about my father nearly as well without the unconditional support of my communities in Camden and here at CYFM. Their ministry of presence proved pivotal in the time that I had left with my father, who passed away this past November. The communities were especially generous in recognizing the time I had with my father, and always offered me compassion, and still do today when I need someone to talk to.

Intentional community and the ministry of presence were two very critical components that helped me get through the past year and half, especially when my father got sick. During this time, I became more present to my father, even if it was just sitting with him in chemo therapy or watching television. This was the phase where I gained an even stronger sense of appreciation for simple living, reminding myself how life can change in the blink of an eye. Moreover, my intentional communities became my second family. Francis House played an enormous role in the healing process, as did my fellow CCVs.

Everything I’ve learned from long-term service has helped me to grow in my life-long service to God and to the less fortunate. By listening to someone else’s story, whether at Francis House or Wingate, I felt myself doing a great service to not only my brothers and sisters, but to Christ himself. As I told our Confirmation retreatants this year, I did not want to give my time to get community service hours, but to be there for others who are not nearly as fortunate. Additionally, my fellow peers have helped me endure the challenges I’ve faced over the years, showing how they’ve ministered to me, with their continued kindness and compassion.

The past two years in Camden and at CYFM have encouraged me to pursue a long term career in service. Next year, I will be taking part in another year of service with Franciscan Volunteer Ministry, with an intention to grow stronger in my faith, while appreciating and living out the three main components of service. Overall, service, especially the ministry of presence, has helped me respond to life’s curve balls in more ways than one.

These three components are not only important for service, but for a vibrant Christian community. Whether at St. Anthony’s or CYFM, I have seen strong, communities formed. Additionally, while visiting St. Anthony’s and Francis House over the past eight months, I have always and will continue to feel at home. This year, I have found a new home right here at CYFM, with my most current community. Please, take advantage of the opportunities you have, whether at your ministries, Mass, or supper, to appreciate the vibrant community, right before our eyes. Thank you, and God Bless.

Thursday, July 9, 2015

Describing COP

COP 2015
It’s one of the funny things about being a Cap Corps Volunteer. We run so many retreats and at the end of each of them, someone’s bound to ask how it went. When they go badly, I know exactly what to say. In those cases I have a whole slew of strange and hilarious anecdotes to share. I can regale my audience with tales about small group mishaps. For instance, there was the time I had a girlfriend/boyfriend pair in my small group on a confirmation retreat. I asked them to share where they were at with their faith and with confirmation. Part of the ground rules were that they were to just listen when other people shared and respect them no matter where they were at. As they shared, it became very clear very quickly that the girlfriend was very invested in her faith. Not too long after, it became even clearer that the boyfriend was not. He was somewhere in the process of talking about how much he hated CCD when noise erupted from the other side of the circle, "AH HECK NO! YOU DIDN'T SAY THAT!" Apparently the girlfriend didn't realize her boyfriend didn't care much about church and it led to the biggest breech of small group ground rules I had all year.

Serving food at St. Patrick's
Soup Kitchen
For other retreats, I can tell them about trying to get some sleep (unsuccessfully) while all around me a bunch of teenage boys were freaking out because they found ladybugs in the room. (Really guys? All that over ladybugs?!) It’s easy to talk about the mishaps, but oddly enough, when the retreats go well, I rarely know what to say. People outside CYFM can readily understand why these teenage shenanigans would be frustrating, but it’s harder to describe to them those moments of grace and joy. You’d almost have to have been there.

Vacation Bible School
That’s the sort of position I find myself in as I try to write a reflection about COP. For those of you unfamiliar with CYFM acronyms, COP stands for Capuchin Outreach Program. It is a week long service retreat based out of our retreat center in Garrison, New York. During the day the kids do service at a variety of different sites in surrounding community. Some work in a soup kitchen, others do manual labor, others visit the elderly and the sick, and still others run a Vacation Bible School for kids. No matter where their site is, in the evening, they return to CYFM to pray, reflect and have fun. Through this retreat they get a chance to know Christ better and to get their hands dirty learning to love as He calls them to love. It’s a terrific retreat and truthfully (in my humble estimation) it was one of the best we had all year.

Drip, drip, DROP.
Given that the retreat was so good, I would be remiss not to post something about it. And yet, I hardly know how to put into words what I was privileged to witness on this retreat. For example, I can tell you all about Messy Games. I can describe in detail the sheer volume of paint that was involved (it was a lot...) Or how we played duck duck goose except by dropping powder paint on each person’s head until “the chosen one” had the whole cup of paint dumped on their head. I could describe the mess as the kids jumped onto a slip slide covered in paint, or the blue footprints at that spread throughout the building as though there had been an invasion of smurfs.

The fate of the loser...
What is harder to describe is the joy and camaraderie I witnessed in the course of those games. All the walls were let down, the kids were laughing and having fun and it didn't matter with who. I saw kids come out of their shell as they laughed about the fact they looked like a giant leprechaun and others get cheered on by their peers when they were afraid to jump on the slip and slide. I saw them throwing water balloons and laughing with kids they normally wouldn't talk to. Did it take a little while for them to warm up? Yes. But after the first face full of paint, the walls went down and they were free just to have fun. What a grace that was to see!

I can describe to you what we did during theological reflection and it truthfully won’t sound all that interesting. The kids returned from their work sites, they had a little bit of free time and then after dinner, we broke into our theological reflection groups. Each group had about eight people and met at a designated spot around the campus. Once everyone was together, we lit a candle and had thirty minutes of quiet reflection on Christ’s work in the course of our day. When the thirty minutes were up, the chapel bell was gleefully rung by members of Kelley’s group and we reconvened as a group for 45 minutes. In that time we discussed where they encountered Christ in the course of their day, went over the reflection questions from their journals and when it was all said and done, set them free to enjoy a little of bit of free time before Mass. 

You see? On the surface it all sounds very simple. And yet those were some of the richest small group sessions I ever had as a CCV. You wouldn’t know from just that description what amazing graces were communicated in the course of those discussions. As the kids described their day (both where they found joy and where they felt stretched) they gave their entire small group a glimpse at God’s work in their life. They shared about the moment where their faith became real and important to them. (Those stories were powerful and a lot of them involved DDA.) They shared about moments from their work site where they saw God. Whether they saw a kid come out of their shell, had a moving conversation with a homeless person, or spent the day reading to an elderly person who had gone blind, it was a powerful witness to God's grace. They engaged topics like what the Eucharist is, what it means to be a disciple of Christ and what it means to evangelize. In fact, they engaged those topics so deeply that they often spilled over into free time and sometimes continued late at night. Can I do full justice in describing what a grace it was to see these kids digging deeper in their faith? Not even close.
The Cortlandt Manor Crew

Lastly, there were the service sites. My group went to Cortlandt Manor which is a nursing home not far from CYFM. Even if I describe how we took “the scenic route” trying to get to and from Cortladnt Manor on our first day there (and that is a fairly interesting story), my description of what we did won't sound that interesting. We’d arrive at 9:30 and from then until 4:00, our day consisted of pushing wheelchairs, running games and making room visits to elderly residents at the nursing home. Nothing that exciting ever happens there and the residents themselves will tell you the same thing. It’s a pretty predictable place.

What you miss from that description are the facial expressions. You can’t see from the way I described the work how the residents’ faces lit up when Mikayla sat down to play the piano. (Truthfully, she didn’t either because her back was to them.) You might laugh as I told you about all the dementia patients who were convinced I was good husband material (there’s one lady in my life and that’s Our Lady) but despite that, the look of peace and the smile that came over their face as I held their hand and let them know someone was there for them was a great grace. Seeing the joy that the girls in my group brought with them to every resident they encountered was a grace. Seeing how their faces lit up just as much as the residents’ as they chatted with them and pushed wheelchairs was a grace. Seeing how much patience they exercised as they talked with people who couldn’t always respond much to them was an even greater grace. God's goodness shone through in those moments, but I’ll be darned if I can adequately communicate it.

Everything about the retreat was chocked full of grace: the jokes that went around at dinner, the amazing talents we got to see at the talent show, the side trip my work group took to see the Graymoor friary, the 11 PM discussion a few of us had in the chapel about relics, even getting completely covered in paint. If you saw the joy that permeated every aspect of this retreat, you would know that God was stretching the hearts of these kids in so many ways and there could be no doubt His grace was at work. You would know why this was one of the best retreats we had all year.

To all the COP participants, you know what I'm talking about. COP is over, but those graces continue to flow. Remember that this retreat was a lesson in how to love. Now go out and set the world on fire with love, with His love! I'm praying for you all! God bless.