Regaining Lost Smiles

It’s easy to be caught up in the ordinary and lose sight of purpose. Donna reminds us why we should hold on.  I used to think that if ever I made a serious spiritual commitment and embarked on a discerned path toward holiness, every day would be filled with holy moments, and everything I encountered, ‘even adversities, would be considered all joy.’ (James 1:2) But the spiritual life, indeed, life in general, isn't quite like that. About ten years ago, I became an oblate of Saint Benedict. At the outset of my oblation, as my prayer life deepened, and my ministries became more fruitful, the possibilities of Christian perfection seemed endless.  But the temptation to judge others unfavorably by comparison began to nip at my heels. When family members outrightly rejected some of the fundamental teachings of the Catholic Church, I felt rejected by extension. When a fellow oblate questioned my public witness in support of the sanctity of life—didn't I know that hearts and minds have only ever been changed through unconditional love, not veiled criticism?—I felt like a Pharisee holding my sign. Holy Meteors… Alas, while I never doubted my decision to become an oblate, the realization of my basic unworthiness deflated my spirits. How I longed to rediscover that heady sense of interior freedom and joyful buoyancy, arising from the belief that my Catholic faith, lived out under the guidance of the Rule of Saint Benedict, could move mountains. Ironically, the wisdom of a 20th-century rabbi helped me find the way by pointing to the time-tested directive: "Remember why you started!" In Moral Grandeur and Spiritual Audacity, Jewish pastor Abraham J. Heschel suggests that faith is not some constant state of fervent belief, but rather a loyalty to the moments when we had such ardent faith. In effect, ‘I believe’ means ‘I remember.’ Likening holy moments to ‘meteors’ that flare up quickly and then disappear from sight, yet “ignite a light which will never be extinguished,” Heschel exhorts believers “to guard forever the echo which once burst upon the deep recesses of your soul.” Most of us can recall experiencing these ‘shooting stars’ at significant moments in our faith life, when we felt high and lifted up, touched by God's glory.  My Shooting Star Moments My first such memory occurred at age seven when I saw Michelangelo's Pieta at the New York World's Fair. Though I had made my first Holy Communion earlier that year, the beauty of the white marble sculpture of the Blessed Virgin with the lifeless body of Jesus in her lap, set against a celestial backdrop of midnight blue, struck me with a deeper awareness of His—and Mary's—profound sacrifice and love for me than reciting the catechism ever had. The next time I received Jesus in the Eucharist, I did so with greater understanding and reverence. Another transformative moment happened at a ballroom dance class! Christ, after all, is  Lord of the Dance in the hymn of the same name. In the writings of Catholic monastic Thomas Merton, God is the ‘Dancer’ who invites each of us to join Him in a ‘cosmic dance’ to achieve true union. (The Modern Spirituality Series). When the instructor partnered with me to demonstrate the foxtrot, I nervously joked that I had two left feet, yet he simply said: "Follow me." After my initial stumble, he immediately pulled me in so that I didn't have the space to falter. For the next few minutes, as I was effortlessly gliding throughout the room in his wake, swinging and swaying to Frank Sinatra singing Fly Me To The Moon, I implicitly knew what it would be like to be in step with God's will– exhilarating! Christ had His Moments too! In Scripture, God clearly creates moments of transcendence to strengthen our faith in times of trial—the Transfiguration of the Lord is a prime example. The memory of Christ manifested in all His dazzling glory certainly provided the disciples with a necessary contrast to the horror and shame of His ignominious death on the Cross. It also imparts a hopeful vision of our future glory ‘come what may.’ Surely the memory of  His Father's words: “This is my Beloved Son; with Him I am well pleased; listen to Him!” (Matthew 17:5) sustained and comforted the human Jesus from  Gethsemane to Calvary. Indeed, ‘Remembrance’ is a preeminent theme in the Passion narrative. When Jesus instituted the Eucharist at the Last Supper, He established the most consequential Memorial of all time and eternity—the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. When Jesus on the Cross promised to remember in Paradise, the good thief who validated Him on earth, the world sighed with relief. That is why Saint Benedict's reminder to ‘Never despair of God's mercy’ is his Rule's final and most fundamental spiritual tool. For though we, like the good thief, know ourselves to be deeply flawed, still we can be confident that Christ will remember us because we remember Him—in other words, we believe! For a perfect life on earth does not exist. Yet there are perfect, glowing moments, set among ordinary—often trying—moments, that illuminate our path, 'gliding’ our steps to Heaven, where we will ‘play among the stars.’ Until then, let us love in remembrance of Him!

In July 2013 to be exact, my life turned around. It wasn’t easy to digest, but I am glad it happened I am a cradle Catholic. I grew up in a small town in central Italy, near the Abbey of Monte Cassino, which was founded in the sixth century by Saint Benedict and hosts his tomb and that of his twin sister Saint Scholastica. My grandmother was truly instrumental in nurturing my faith, but despite attending regular Masses with her, receiving all the Sacraments, and being active in my parish, it always felt more like a custom or duty that I never questioned, rather than a true love of God.  The Shock of it! In July 2013, I went on a pilgrimage to Medjugorje during the annual Youth Festival. After three days of participating in the festival program, with Confession, prayers, testimonies, Rosary, Mass, and Adoration, I suddenly felt my heart almost exploding. I was totally in love, the ‘butterflies-in-my-stomach’ kind…and I started praying all the time.  It was a new feeling—I suddenly had this physical perception of the size of my heart (which I know is about the same size as my fist) because it felt like it was about to explode out of the love I was inundated with. I could not describe this feeling at that time, and I still can’t today… An Illogical Madness So can you imagine somebody living a regular life, compromising between being Catholic on the one hand and having a worldly secular life on the other, suddenly encountering Jesus Christ, falling in love with Him, and following Him with all their heart? It felt like madness at that time–and sometimes, it still does!  I am a scientist and an academic. I have a very logical and matter-of-fact mindset in all I do. My boyfriend at the time didn’t understand what was going on with me either (he said I was being brainwashed!); being an atheist, I didn’t expect him to get it. Even the reason I joined that pilgrimage was not clear to me—my mum and my sister had been there before and encouraged me to go. The Church hasn’t made a final statement about Medjugorje’s apparitions and revelations, so I went there without any pressure to believe or not believe in it, only with an open heart. And that’s when the miracle happened.  I can’t say I am a better person now than I was before, but I’m certainly a very different person. My prayer life has deepened as Jesus has become central to my life. A lot has changed since that encounter with Jesus through Our Lady, and I wish everyone could have the same and even better experience of God’s great love and mercy. I can only say to everyone: open your heart and surrender to God, the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

The Rosary has changed me in more ways than I can understand. Our Lady is indeed a gateway to the Lord.  I remember a woman with whom I shared an adoration hour. She once told me about this young man who was struggling with depression; he was staying in and refusing to go out of his home, for maybe four years or more. On the way home, I prayed a Rosary for him and thought of it as nothing more than an ordinary Rosary. Truthfully, I didn't expect anything to come of it.  The next week however, when I met up with the same lady, she said to me: “Sean, I've got an amazing story; it's a miracle! Remember the young man I told you about last week? His car had been sitting idle for years, with dust all over it. He came out of his room, cleaned it, got in, and drove to meet up with his old university mates.”  I was amazed!  By showing me the fruit of one Rosary, God showed me how amazing it is when you pray, and how much transformation can happen when you pray more. So, I slowly went from one Rosary to four Rosaries a day, and there is no end to the wonders that have happened since.

Books were a luxury in 13th-century Italy. Hence, when someone went to the trouble of writing a book by hand, they treasured it beyond measure. Father Anthony had a book of Psalms he had copied by hand, with personal notes he referred to while teaching. Once, a young novice left the community and took the treasured book with him. The priest was crestfallen, realizing his years of work were lost. No one knew where the novice had gone, so there wasn't even a remote possibility of recovering the book. But Father Anthony did not lose heart; trusting in God's providence, he prayed for the novice to have a change of heart and return the book. Anthony's prayer was soon answered, for the novice returned with a contrite heart. Asking for forgiveness, he gave the book back to the saintly priest who forgave him and accepted him back to the seminary. After Father Anthony's death, together with the many stories of his holiness, this story became quite popular. Thus, Saint Anthony of Padua came to be constantly invoked for finding lost things. Over the years, his reputation became so widespread that the Church officially declared him the patron Saint of lost items. Saint Anthony had deep faith in God, enough to surrender his worries and trust His will. The next time we invoke the Saint to find our lost things, let us pray that he asks the Lord to grant us the kind of faith that led and strengthened him in Christ.