St. Stanislaus Kostka: Extraordinary Love

I wrote this talk on St. Stanislaus Kostka on November 11th, 2013. At the time I was a Jesuit novice and being the youngest in the community, I was asked to offer a panegyric on the Feast of St. Stanislaus, patron saint of novices and one of the youngest canonized saints of the Church. I came across this talk just the other day and thought it might be a good introduction to the life of the saint for those who had never heard of him and perhaps a helpful reflection for those who had not.

In some ways, St. Stanislaus is a surprising candidate for sainthood, first of all because he had only 17 years to pull it off. When one thinks of the years of trial and error the likes of St. Ignatius and St. Augustine took before finding God or the years it took the likes of Brebeuf and Jogues to grow in holiness and go to such a noble martyrdom, 17 years doesn’t allow much time for maturing in holiness.

Nor do 17 years allow much room for great works. Mother Cabrini spent decades founding hospitals and orphanages; Francis Xavier spent his life preaching the gospel to the far corners of the world; Peter Claver devoted himself as apostle to the slaves in South America; all these works take time. Stanislaus had no such time. God gave him the lot in life of many other boys his age: that of a son, a student and later a novice. In the basic facts, his life was profoundly ordinary.

And yet, when we look at Stanislaus Kotska, we see something far from ordinary as did the people of his time, for in his ordinary life as a student and a novice, an extraordinary love of God broke through.

After growing up in Poland as the son of a minor noble family, Stanislaus was sent to school in Vienna with his older brother Paul to study at the Jesuit school there. On the surface, Stanislaus’ activities were that of an ordinary student. But underneath something else was going on: Stanislaus was falling in love with Our Lord.

Even as his prayer life grew and deepened, his brother Paul still saw an ordinary school boy, albeit the son of a nobleman and one who was becoming an annoying goody-goody. Stanislaus was beaten regularly by Paul for what Paul considered false piety. And yet when all else appeared ordinary, there were still glimpses of an intense and amazing love of God.

While still a student, Stanislaus fell ill. As his fever grew worse, he felt himself dying and begged his family to send for a priest to bring him Viaticum. They refused. They were renting their rooms from a Lutheran and his brother and servant feared that by bringing a priest in the house, their landlord would throw them out. Thus in what seemed to be his dying moments, Stanislaus was on his own. Here his servant got a glimpse of that intense love of God which touched so many lives.

While I was near his bed, he told me in clear and explicit words to kneel down. The Blessed Sacrament was being brought to him at that moment in the presence of St. Barbara. As soon as he had said this, he grew quite composed and remained with his whole body in an attitude of reverence. I myself saw and heard all this, and I’m certain that Stanislaus was not at all out of his mind from the violence of his sickness.

If that was the first glimpse of this extraordinary love of God, more incredible things were still to happen. Our Lady appeared to him with the Christ child. She laid the infant Jesus by his side and then spoke to him: it was her wish that he serve her Son by becoming a Jesuit.

Stanislaus recovered and on the surface returned to the ordinary life of a student. What he was to do next was not extraordinary in the sense of being miraculous or supernatural. Instead it was extraordinary insofar as it reflected an amazingly intense, all consuming love of Christ and Our Lady. He knew his father would never consent to him entering the Society and his brother would do all in his power to prevent him. The Society of Jesus in Austria and Poland, afraid of the wrath of his noble father, would not accept him there. Ordinary people would accept defeat at this point, but Stanislaus had too great a love of Christ to let His wishes go unfulfilled. So, armed with a reference from Peter Canisus, Stanislaus stole away from Vienna and walked all the way to office of St. Francis Borgia to seek entrance into the Society of Jesus in Rome.

Stanislaus was admitted to the novitiate. As fate would have it, that was all God called him to. After ten months in the novitiate, Stanislaus fell ill again and as he died, he pointed with a smile in front of him, to the Blessed Mother calling him to Heaven. He would never be a great Jesuit missionary like Xavier or a sage spiritual director like Claude de la Columbiere. He would be a novice, but not just any novice: a holy novice. His intense love of God was lived out in all the little things he did and that was his greatest service. When people looked at him, they saw not merely Stanislaus Kotska, they got a glimpse of Christ. And in the end that is the greatest thing we can give: Christ.

What we give to others is God’s love. No matter what form we give it in, we can give nothing greater. This is important for us as novices because we have little else to give. We are rough material in the hands of God. We bring certain experiences with us from the world, but we are as yet unformed. We are at the beginning of our training in prayer, we have yet to do any formal studies, and our experiences are limited. We have few tools under our belt to help anyone in a pastoral situation. We simply haven’t seen a lot of pastoral situations yet. And yet, God can work through us even in our rough state. This we can learn from Stanislaus Kostka. God doesn’t ask for our works, He asks for our love. What touches people most deeply is not our works, but the love which drives them. We need only look at the countless lives St. Stanislaus touched, never being fully formed, never performing the great acts of charity like other great Jesuits, only living the life of simple novice driven by a deep love of God.

Let us pray to Stanislaus, that we might run to Jesus waiting for us in the chapel. Let us pray to Stanislaus, that in the ups and downs of the novitiate, we might be consoled by that same Blessed Mother he knew so well. Let us pray to Stanislaus, that our lives as novices may be holy, that in all we do it is Christ’s love that shines through us. In the end that is all there is: to love Christ and in so doing to radiate his love out to the whole world. 

Go and Set the World on Fire! : The Readings and Prayers from the Fr. Rale Pilgrimage

Opening Prayer Service

St. Sebastian Church, Madison

Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament

O Salutaris

A few minutes of silent adoration

Introduction to the pilgrimage/the life of Fr. Rale

“I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing! There is a baptism with which I must be baptized, and how great is my anguish until it is accomplished! Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division.” - Luke 12:49-51

Imagine living in France in the 17^th century. It is the center of civilization and culture. There is good food, family, friends, a comfortable life. What more could you want?

Now imagine leaving it all behind. You will never see your family or friends again. For weeks you will sail on the open ocean, not knowing whether you will ever reach the other shore. Then you will leave the French colony which is spartan enough as it is and go into the wilderness guided by people you have never met who share none of your language or customs.

Then you arrive at your destination. You are the only one of the French among these native people. They’re not sure whether to trust you or not; you either prove yourself to them or they might decide your dangerous and either exile or kill you. Assuming your survive that, then you have to survive the winter. The snow falls and the food soon disappears. Your only tools for hunting are spears and arrows: the guns of the Frenchman are not here. And perhaps, in the midst of this harsh and difficult life, you wonder to yourself, why did you ever do this?

Welcome to the world of the North American missionaries; welcome to the world of Fr. Sebastian Rale. Fr. Rale preached here in Madison and Norridgewock. He founded a mission to the Abenaki people by the name of Narantsouack. He gave his life to brining them the good news of the gospel; to baptizing them, bringing them the sacrament, caring for the sick, and catechizing their children. These are all good things, but what could possibly drive a man to do such a thing under such harsh circumstances? His whole life is back and France and he leaves it all. He knows he will never return and he knows his chances of an early death are high.

So what drove to him to this? Duty? Duty’s not enough. I would imagine that if you attempted to do something like that out of pure duty, you would soon conclude that whoever told you to do this was harsh and cruel and not worth obeying. Perhaps some neurosis could drive a man to throw himself in the wilderness like this? For many moderns this is all they can imagine, but when you read the letters of Fr. Rale, his mind is all too clear.

What drove Fr. Rale to go into the woods, preaching Christ to the natives? It was love: Christ’s love. Once you have encountered the love of Christ, it is too intense to keep it to yourself. It is a fire that burns within you and it cannot be contained. By its very nature and intensity it has to spread and Fr. Rale experienced that. He was called by Christ and driven by love to make this love known to those who did not know it. That’s what drove him out here, in spite of all the obstacles and all the risks. It was love.

You are about to spend the next few hours following in the footsteps of this early Maine missionary. You will have a chance to reflect on what he was driven to do out of love for Christ, how the love of Christ sustained him in very difficult situations and how that love burned brightly in the darkness.

But while you are retracing his journey, remember that you are beginning a journey of your own. Christ is calling you too: each and every one of you. He loves you with the same love with which he loved Fr. Rale, with which He loved the Abenakis, with which He loved the whole world. That love is powerful and just it ignited a flame in the heart of Fr. Rale, so too it can ignite a flame in your own heart. He is calling you too to make this love known to the far corners of the world. What the particulars look like you may not yet know, but He is calling nevertheless.

So for the next few minutes, I invite you to speak with Christ and prepare for this journey. He may have things to tell you: resolve to keep your heart open. He may bring you places you never expected: resolve to trust Him and follow Him. But for now, He is there, pouring His love out onto you whether you realize it just yet or not. So sit at His feet, place your head close to His heart and ask for the graces you need as you prepare yourself for this journey.

For Reflection (20 minutes of silent adoration and reflection)

Where in your families, in your neighborhoods, or in your communities are people in need of love?

Have you been attentive to this longing for love around you? How have you responded to it? How will you respond to it in the future?

How have you brought Christ’s light into these dark situations? How will you do so going forward? Ask for Christ to give you His heart and resolve to love with His love.

Prayer before the Blessed Sacrament

When you are ready, go kneel before the Blessed Sacrament, light a candle and address Our Lord:

Jesus, light my heart ablaze with your love. Set on fire, may I radiate the warmth of your love and the brightness of your Truth to the farthest corners of the world. Jesus, meek and humble of heart, make my heart like yours!

St. Ignatius’s Prayer of Generosity

Teach me, Lord, to be generous,

to serve you as you deserve.

To give and not to count the cost,

To fight and not to heed the wound,

To toil and not to seek for rest,

To labor and to ask for no reward,

Save that of knowing, that I do your will. Amen.

Benediction

Tantum Ergo

Divine Praises

Holy God We Praise Thy Name

Station 1

Going Boldly Where Christ Calls

Near the bridge between Madison and Anson

Lord Jesus Christ

-          Teach me to serve You as You deserve.

From a letter from Fr. Rale to his brother

It once happened to me, in crossing the river St. Lawrence, that I suddenly found myself surrounded by masses of ice of an enormous size; the canoe was cracked by them. The two Savages who were piloting me immediately cried out: “We are dead men; all is over; we must perish!” Notwithstanding, they made an effort, and jumped upon one of those floating cakes of ice. I did likewise; and, after having drawn the canoe out of the water, we carried it to the very edge of the ice; and thus, by jumping from cake to cake we at last came to the bank of the river, without any other inconvenience than being very wet and benumbed with cold.

Reflection:

In a moment, you will have a chance to step out on that bridge and look over the river. Imagine for a moment a river several times the width, in the middle of winter, and imagine being in a sinking canoe in the half frozen water. This was mild compared to other risks and dangers the missionaries faced. Living off the wild, warding off starvation, enduring the wind and cold, being exposed to the elements.

Christ called these men to preach in the wilderness and these risks were part and parcel of that call. If they were to follow the call, that had to accept that these dangers would be apart of it. They were called to a great adventure, with all its rewards and all of its risks.

Christ is calling you too to a great adventure. What would you risk to follow His call? The particulars of that adventure will vary, but the same leap of faith is necessary: will you say yes to His call?

“Behold, I have given you the power ‘to tread upon serpents’ and scorpions and upon the full force of the enemy and nothing will harm you. Nevertheless, do not rejoice because the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice because your names are written in heaven.” – Luke 10:19-20

Faith of our fathers, we will strive

To win all nations unto thee;

And through the truth that comes from God

Mankind shall then indeed be free.

Faith of our fathers! holy faith!

We will be true to thee till death!

Station 2

The Shepherd Amidst His Flock

201A and Kennebec Street, Madison, ME

Lord Jesus Christ

-          Teach me to toil and not to seek for rest.

From a letter from Fr. Rale to his nephew

After Mass, I Catechize the children and the young people; a great number of older persons are present, and answer with docility to the questions which I ask them. The remainder of the morning, until noon, is devoted to all those who have anything to tell me. At that time, they come in crowds, to reveal to me their griefs and anxieties, or to tell me the causes of complaint which they have against their tribesmen, or to consult me about their marriages or their other private affairs. I must instruct some, and console others; reestablish peace in disunited families, and calm troubled consciences; and correct a few others with reprimands, mingled with gentleness and charity, — in fine, send them all away content, as far as I can…

In the midst of these continual occupations you can hardly believe with what rapidity the days pass away. There has been a time when I scarcely had leisure to recite my Office, or to take a little rest during the night.

Reflection:

When Fr. Rale arrived at Narantsouack, he got right to work. There were souls needing saving and there was no time waste. The Abenaki people were hungering for Christ and as hungry people are wont to do, they were constantly knocking on the door of their father who was sent to feed them. His days were filled to the brim with the care and guidance of these souls.

Notice how much generosity that required on Fr. Rale’s part. The only time he carved out for himself away from his flock was to pray. Otherwise he gave himself completely to the work Christ had given him. In our jobs, we are used to being able to set our work aside after 5:00 and that is good. But being a Christian isn’t a job: it’s who we are. Do we set limits to how much work we will do for Christ or do we toil without seeking for rest, knowing this is His work and our rest will be in Heaven?

After this the Lord appointed seventy-two others whom he sent ahead of him in pairs to every town and place he intended to visit. He said to them, “The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few; so ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest. Go on your way; behold, I am sending you like lambs among wolves. Carry no money bag, no sack, no sandals; and greet no one along the way….Whatever town you enter and they welcome you, eat what is set before you, cure the sick in it and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God is at hand for you.’ – Luke 10:1-9

Faith of our fathers, we will love

Both friend and foe in all our strife,

And preach thee, too, as love knows how

By kindly words and virtuous life.

Faith of our fathers! holy faith!

We will be true to thee till death!

Station 3

Fr. Râle Protects His Flock

Father Rasle Road, Madison, ME (past the railroad tracks)

10 minute walk

Lord Jesus Christ

-          Teach me to witness fearlessly to the truth.

The English sought permission from the Abenakis to build trading posts. This was agreeable enough to them. Gradually the ‘trading posts’ became more numerous, came closer and closer to the Abenaki village, and began looking increasingly like forts. The English claimed the king of France had ceded the territory to them in the Treaty of Utrecht. But that territory belonged to the Abenakis, not the king of France. Tensions grew and soon hit a breaking point.

From a letter from Fr. Rale to his nephew

At about that time, a score or so of Savages entered one of the English dwellings, either to trade, or to rest themselves. They had been there only a short time when they saw the house suddenly invested by a force of nearly 200 armed men. “We are dead men!” cried one of the Savages, “Let us sell our lives dearly.”

They were already preparing to rush upon this force when the English, perceiving their intention, and knowing also of what a Savage is capable in his first outbursts of fury, endeavored to appease them. They assured them that they had no evil design, and that they only came to invite a few of them to repair to Boston, for the purpose of conferring with the Governor about methods of maintaining the peace, and the good understanding that ought to exist between the two Nations.

The Savages, a little too credulous, appointed four of their tribesmen who went to Boston; but, when they arrived there, the conference with which they had been beguiled ended by their being made prisoners.

Reflection:

Following the incident above, a meeting was held to negotiate for the release of the prisoners. Several hundred beaver skins were demanded for their release for a crime which (according to Fr. Rale) this tribe had nothing to do with. Even when the ransom was paid, the English acted in bad faith and refused to release the captives.

Kidnapping is bad enough. Extortion is worse. As a father cannot sit idly by while his children are mistreated, so too Fr. Rale could not keep quiet while his flock was attacked. Therefore, when a meeting was called to negotiate for the release of the prisoners, Fr. Rale acted as representative. 

It would be to his detriment. From then on, the English accused him of inciting the natives to rebellion. Every conflict that broke out from then on, was blamed on him. Despite the consequences with the English, it was his duty as a pastor to defend his flock, and to bring these deeds from darkness into the light and he did not shrink from it.

Our world too is filled with evils. Sin likes to hide in darkness and anonymity, unchallenged and unacknowledged. Will you shine the light of truth into the darkness? Will you witness to God and His commandments, even if (like Fr. Rale) it puts a target on your back?

And this is the verdict, that the light came into the world, but people preferred darkness to light, because their works were evil. For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come toward the light, so that his works might not be exposed. But whoever lives the truth comes to the light, so that his works may be clearly seen as done in God. – John 3:19-21

Faith of our fathers, living still

In spite of dungeon, fire and sword,

O how our hearts beat high with joy

Whene’er we hear that glorious word!

Faith of our fathers! holy faith!

We will be true to thee till death!

Station 4

The Good Shepherd versus the Hired Man

The entrance to the park looking over the river

Lord Jesus Christ,

-          Teach me to labor and to ask for no reward.

Seeing that the Catholic faith kept the native Americans closely allied with the French, the English did all they could to draw them away. Several times they tried to persuade the Abenakis to send Fr. Rale back to Quebec (or hand them over to their forces) and accept a Protestant minister. On one such occasion, Fr. Rale records this response:

From a letter from Fr. Rale to his brother

“Your words astonish me,” responded the Deputy of the Savages, “and I wonder at the proposition that you are making to me. When you were here you saw me a long time before the French Governors did; neither those who preceded you, nor your Ministers, ever spoke to me of prayer or of the Great Spirit. They saw my furs, my beaver and elk-skins, and of those alone did they think; it was those they sought with eagerness; I was not able to furnish them enough, and when I brought many, then I was their great friend, and that was all.

On the contrary, my canoe having one day been misguided, I lost my way and wandered at random for a long time, until at last I landed near Quebec, at a large village of the Algonquins, where the black Robes were teaching. I had hardly landed when a black Robe came to see me. I was loaded with furs, but the French black Robe did not deign even to look at them; he spoke to me first of the Great Spirit, of Paradise, of Hell, and of Prayer, which is the only way of reaching Heaven. I listened to him with pleasure, and I enjoyed his talks so much that I remained a long time in that Village for the sake of hearing him.

In short, the Prayer pleased me, and I besought him to instruct me; I asked for Baptism, and received it. Afterward I returned to my own Country and I recounted what had happened to me; my people envied my happiness, and wished to participate in it; accordingly, they set out to go to the Black Robe, to ask him for Baptism. It was thus that the Frenchman treated me. If, when you first saw me, you had spoken to me of Prayer, I would have had the misfortune to pray as you do; for I was not capable of distinguishing whether or not your prayer were right. Therefore, I tell you that I hold to the prayer of the Frenchman; I accept it, and I shall keep it until the world shall burn and come to an end.”

Reflection:

Notice the contrast between the English fur traders and the missionary priests. The fur traders befriended the natives insofar as it was profitable to them. Perhaps they loved the natives, but they loved the furs more. By contrast, the missionaries gained no profit whatsoever from the natives (and in fact, stood to lose everything from these ventures), but they still chose to give their lives to them so that the natives could be happy and get to Heaven.

True Christian love is not interested in profit or gain. Rather than being concerned about what you get out of the relationship, you choose to love and care for the other person even though you gain nothing from them. This is how Jesus loved us: going to the cross for love of us though it was of no benefit to Him. Do we love our neighbor this way? Loving them regardless of the return? Do we love God this way? Choosing to love Him not because of the favors He brings us but simply because He is worthy of our love?

“I am the good shepherd. A good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. A hired man, who is not a shepherd and whose sheep are not his own, sees a wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away, and the wolf catches and scatters them. This is because he works for pay and has no concern for the sheep. I am the good shepherd, and I know mine and mine know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I will lay down my life for the sheep."- John 10:11-15

Our fathers, chained in prisons dark,

Were still in heart and conscience free;

And blest would be their children’s fate,

If they, like them should die for thee:

Faith of our fathers! holy faith!

We will be true to thee till death!

Station 5

The British Burn the Church

At the first picnic table as you walk into the park

Lord Jesus Christ,

-          Teach me to fight and not to heed the wounds

From a letter from Fr. Rale to his nephew

I had remained alone in the village with a small number of old men and feeble folk, while the rest of the Savages were at the hunt. That time appeared favorable to the enemy for surprising me; and, with this in view, they sent out a detachment of two hundred men. Two young Abenakis, who were hunting on the seashore, heard that the English had entered the river; they immediately turned their steps to that quarter, so as to observe the movements of the English. Having perceived them about ten leagues from the village, these Savages outran them by crossing the country, that they might inform me, and help the old men, women, and children to retire in haste. I had only time to consume the hosts, to enclose in a small box the sacred vessels, and to escape into the woods. Toward evening, the English reached the Village; and, not having found me there, they came the next day to look for me I the very place of our retreat.

They were within only a gunshot when we descried them; all that I could do was to plunge with haste into the forest. But as I had no time to take my snowshoes, and as, besides, I still experienced great weakness caused by a fall, - in which, some years ago, my thigh and my leg were broken, - it was not possible for me to run very far. The only resource that remained to me was to hide behind a tree. They immediately searched the various paths worn by the Savages when they go for wood, and came within eight steps of the tree that was sheltering me, where naturally they must have perceived me, for the trees had shed their leaves; nevertheless, as if they had been driven away by an invisible hand, they suddenly retraced their steps, and again took the way to the Village.

Thus it was by a special protection of God that I escaped from their pursuit. They pillaged my church and my little house, thereby almost reducing me to a death from starvation in the midst of the woods.

Reflection:

Fr. Rale went to this mission trusting that he was doing God’s work and that because of that, God would protect him and see the work through to its finish. But notice that the events did not unfold as Fr. Rale might have initially expected. If this was God’s work, he would expect the mission to flourish and the conflict with the British to subside. Instead, the conflict grows and the future of the mission is in question.

It could be tempting to despair, to think that God had abandoned him, but God was still at work. In the midst of catastrophe as the village was attacked, God defended the life of his servant by an apparent miracle. That the attackers should have come so close while Fr. Rale was so poorly hidden and still not see him could not be pure accident. This was God’s work, God had other plans, and despite apparent catastrophe, Fr. Rale continued to put his trust in God.

How much do we trust God? Do we trust Him only when He makes things work according to what we think is best? Or do we trust that even in the dark times, He is still at work and still caring for us? He has plans for us and nothing on the face of the earth can hinder them.

Some of the inhabitants of Jerusalem said, “Is he not the one they are trying to kill? And look, he is speaking openly and they say nothing to him.” … So they tried to arrest him, but no one laid a hand upon him, because his hour had not yet come. – John 7:25-30

Divine Mercy Chaplet

Eternal Father, I offer you the body, blood, soul and divinity of your dearly beloved Son, Our Lord Jesus Christ

-          In atonement for our sins and those of the whole world.

For the sake of His sorrowful passion

-          Have mercy on us and on the whole world.

Station 6

Death Alone Can Separate Me from Them

Last picnic table before you enter the path through the woods

Lord Jesus Christ,

-          Teach me to give and not to count the cost

From a letter from Fr. Rale to his nephew

My Neophytes moved by the danger to which I am exposed in their Village, often urge me to retire for a little time to Quebec. But what will become of the flock, if it be deprived of its Shepherd? Death alone can separate me from them. They tell me, but to no purpose, that in case I fall into the power of their enemy, the least that can happen to me will be to linger out the rest of my days in wretched imprisonment; I shut their mouths with the words of the Apostle, which divine goodness has deeply impressed upon my heart. I say to them: “Do not be anxious about that which concerns me. I do not fear the threats of those who hate me when I have not deserved their hatred; and I do not consider my life more precious than myself, so that I may finish my course, and the ministry of the word which has been entrusted to me by the Lord Jesus.” Pray to Him, my dear nephew, that he may strengthen in me this feeling, which comes only from his mercy, in order that I may live and die working unceasingly for the salvation of these neglected souls, who were bought with his blood and whom he has deigned to commit to my care.

Reflection:

“There is no greater love than to lay down your life for a friend.” It is one thing to love others in good times, but what about when it costs us? What do we do when love of another person demands a serious sacrifice on our part?

Fr. Rale fell in love with his flock. That love became so strong that even as the conflict grew, even as it threatened his own life, nothing could make him abandon them. “Death alone can separate me from them.”

Will you dare to love with that depth of love? Will you dare to follow in love so deeply that you would go to the cross for another person as Jesus did for you?

This is why the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down on my own. I have power to lay it down, and power to take it up again.This command I have received from my Father.” – John 10:17-18

Divine Mercy Chaplet

Eternal Father, I offer you the body, blood, soul and divinity of your dearly beloved Son, Our Lord Jesus Christ

-          In atonement for our sins and those of the whole world.

For the sake of His sorrowful passion

-          Have mercy on us and on the whole world.

Holy God, Holy Mighty One, Holy Immortal One

-          Have mercy on us and on the whole world.

Station 7

Fr. Râle Dies at the Foot of the Cross

Follow the sign out of the woods into the clearing at St. Sebastian Cemetery

Lord Jesus Christ,

-          Let my only reward be the knowledge that I have done your will.

From a letter from Fr. De la Chasse to Members of the Society of Jesus

October 29th, 1724

After many acts of hostility had been committed on both sides by the two Nations, a little army of Englishmen and their Savage allies, numbering eleven hundred men, unexpectedly came to attack the Village of Nanrantsouak. The dense thickets with which that Village is surrounded helped them to conceal their movements; and as, besides, it was not enclosed with palisades, the Savages were taken by surprise, and became aware of the enemy’s approach only by a volley from their muskets, which riddled all the cabins….

Father Rale, warned by the clamor and the tumult of the danger which was menacing his Neophytes, promptly left his house and fearlessly appeared before the enemy. He expected by his presence either to stop their first efforts, or, at least, to draw their attention to himself alone, and at the expense of his life to procure the safety of his flock.

As soon as they perceived the Missionary, a general shout was raised which was followed by a storm of musket-shots that was poured upon him. He dropped dead at the foot of a large cross that he had erected in the midst of the Village, in order to announce the public profession that was made therein of adoring a crucified God. Seven Savages who were around him, and were exposing their lives to guard that of their father, were killed by his side.

“Amen, amen, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will preserve it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there also will my servant be. The Father will honor whoever serves me.”– John 12:24-26

Veneration of the Cross – Our Lord says that unless we are willing to take up our cross and follow Him, we are not worthy to be called His disciples. You have seen what the cross can look like for those who follow Christ. You have also seen the abundant fruit it bears. Are you will to take up the cross? I invite you to kiss the cross and in kissing the cross of Christ, to choose to embrace your own crosses also for love of Him.

Be Thou My Vision – to be sung during the veneration of the cross and the procession to the monument

Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;

Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.

Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,

Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word;

I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord;

Thou my great Father, I Thy true son;

Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.

Be Thou my battle Shield, Sword for the fight;

Be Thou my Dignity, Thou my Delight;

Thou my soul’s Shelter, Thou my high Tower:

Raise Thou me heavenward, O Power of my power.

Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise,

Thou mine Inheritance, now and always:

Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,

High King of Heaven, my Treasure Thou art.

High King of Heaven, my victory won,

May I reach Heaven’s joys, O bright Heaven’s Sun!

Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,

Still be my Vision, O Ruler of all.

Station 8

The Burial of Fr. Râle

At the monument in St. Sebastian Cemetery

From a letter from Fr. De la Chasse to Members of the Society of Jesus

The death of the Shepherd dismayed the flock; the Savages took flight and crossed the river, part of them by fording, and part by swimming. They were exposed to all the fury of their enemies, until the moment when they retreated into the woods which are on the other side of the river. There they were gathered, to the number of a hundred and fifty. From more than two thousand gunshots that had been fired at them only thirty persons were killed, including the women and children; and fourteen were wounded. The English did not attempt to pursue the fugitives; they were content with pillaging and burning the Village: they set fire to the Church, after a base profanation of the sacred vessels and of the adorable Body of Jesus Christ.

The precipitate retreat of the enemy permitted the return of the Nanrantosouakians to the Village. The very next day they visited the wreck of their cabins, while the women, on their part, sought for roots and plants suitable for treating the wounded. Their first care was to weep over the body of their holy Missionary; they found it pierced by hundreds of bullets, the scalp torn off, the skull broken by blows from a hatchet, the mouth and the eyes filled with mud, the bones of the legs broken, and all the members mutilated. This sort of inhumanity, practiced on a body deprived of feeling and of life, can scarcely be attributed to anyone but to the Savage allies of the English.

After these devout Christians had washed and kissed many ties the honored remains of their father, they buried him in the very place were, the night before, he had celebrated the holy Sacrifice of the Mass – that is, in the place where the altar had stood before the burning of the Church.

Reflection: 

Thus ended the life of this holy priest. He was 67 years old. He had devoted thirty seven years of his life to the Abenaki mission.

When we began this pilgrimage, I proposed that the love of Christ is best symbolized by fire. It is fierce and intense, so much so that it cannot help but spread. That all sounds nice, but here’s the thing about fire: it consumes whatever it ignites. When a piece of wood burns, the log goes up in smoke and ends as ash. When Jesus appeared to Margaret Mary Alacoque, He showed her His heart burning with love and said, “Behold the heart which has loved men so much, even to the point of consuming itself!” His love was like that log. He loved so much that it consumed Him. He loved us so much that He sacrificed Himself and in willing our good, He gave up His own.

                I proposed to you that what drove Fr. Rale was the fire of Jesus’ love. Now you’ve walked in the footsteps of Fr. Rale. You’ve seen the places where he ministered. You’ve heard about the sacrifices he made. I propose to you that Fr. Rale loved like Jesus. That fire of love consumed him and in time his interests disappeared as love consumed him with concern for his flock. Fr. Rale loved them so much that he would not abandon them in their time of need. He so burned with love for them that it consumed him and he laid down his life for his sheep.

In the end, the interests of Fr. Rale no longer mattered. His comfort had long been discarded. His safety ceased to be a concern. The only thing that mattered was welfare of the people he had devoted his life to. There was no one else to bring them Jesus; there was no one else to bring them Christ’s love and he loved them too much to abandon them, even in the face of certain death.

Some would say this was a waste: What good does martyrdom do? What good is a love that consumes the lover?  Here’s the other thing about fire: it lights up the darkness of the world. You see, Fr. Rale’s sacrifice was not for nothing. He brought a joy to the native Americans that can only be found in Christ and they knew it. Their lives changed. Cruel and superstitious practices ended, they had a hope they never had before for life after death. They had a source of healing in a harsh world and saw this in so many ways, even in miraculous cures. And this is why they did everything they could to preserve and protect the life of their priest: the love he showed them (namely the love Christ) brought a light and warmth to their world that they had never known before.

These were the first seeds of faith sown in the state of Maine: now it is your turn. Who will pick up the torch? Who will answer the call? The world is as desperate to know the love of Christ as it was in the time of Fr. Rale. Our culture is ignorant of Him and hurting for it. A culture of the individual has left men and women alone and abandoned. A culture of indulgence has led people into the chains of addiction. A culture of license has led them to neglect their responsibilities and to fail to live up to what they were truly made for. A culture of secularism has left them not knowing where to turn

Our culture is cold and hungry for love. Will you be His light? Will you let His love be kindled in your heart? Will you set this cold world on fire with His love so its inhabitants can step out of the darkness and be warmed by His rays?

This is your call. It is the same call answered by Fr. Rale. It is the same call answered by the apostles. It is the Christian vocation. Go forth and set the world on fire with His love!

When he broke open the fifth seal, I saw underneath the altar the souls of those who had been slaughtered because of the witness they bore to the word of God. They cried out in a loud voice, “How long will it be, holy and true master, before you sit in judgment and avenge our blood on the inhabitants of the earth?” Each of them was given a white robe, and they were told to be patient a little while longer until the number was filled of their fellow servants and brothers who were going to be killed as they had been. – Revelation 6:9-11

St. Ignatius’s Prayer of Generosity

Teach me, Lord, to be generous,

to serve you as you deserve.

To give and not to count the cost,

To fight and not to heed the wound,

To toil and not to seek for rest,

To labor and to ask for no reward,

Save that of knowing, that I do your holy will. Amen.

Station 9

Eulogy for Fr. Râle

From a letter from Fr. De la Chasse to Members of the Society of Jesus

October 29th, 1724

Three years ago, by order of the Monsieur our Governor, I made a tour of Acadia. In conversing with Father Rale, I represented to him that in case war should be declared against the Savages, he would run a risk of his life; that, as his Village was only fifteen leagues form the English forts, he would be exposed to their first forays; that his preservation was necessary to his flock; and that he must take measures for the safety of his life. “My measures are taken,” he replied in a firm voice, “God has confided to me this flock, and I shall follow its fate, only too happy to be sacrificed for it.” He often repeated the same thing to his Neophytes, that he might strengthen their constancy in the Faith. “We have realized but too well,” they said to me, “that the dear Father spoke to us out of the abundance of his heart; we saw him face death with a tranquil and serene countenance, and expose himself unassisted to the fury of the enemy, - hindering their first attempts so that we might have time to escape from the danger and preserve our lives.” …

No one doubts that he was sacrificed through hatred to his ministry and to his zeal in establishing the true Faith in the hearts of the Savages. This is the opinion of Monsieur de Bellemont, Superior of the Seminary of Saint Sulpice at Montreal. When I asked from him the customary suffrages for the deceased, because of our interchange of prayers, he replied to me, using the well-known words of St. Augustine, that it was doing injustice to a Martyr to pray for him…

May it please the Lord that his blood, shed for such a righteous cause, may fertilize these unbelieving lands which have been so often watered with the blood of the Gospel workers who have preceded us; that it may render them fruitful in devout Christians, and that the zeal of Apostolic men yet to come may be stimulated to gather the abundant harvest that is being presented to them by so many peoples still buried in the shadow of death!

The eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had ordered them. When they saw him, they worshiped, but they doubted. Then Jesus approached and said to them, “All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.” – Matthew 28:16-20

For the Beatification of Sebastian Râle

Eternal Father, grant that Sebastian Râle, martyr of the faith among the Abenakis of Maine, will be raised to the altar of the blessed.  Through his intercession, we pray that your divine favor will be manifest among us so that we may return praise to your eternal glory. We ask this through Our Lord Jesus Christ Your Son Who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit One God world without end. 

-          Amen.

Most Sacred Heart of Jesus

-          Make our hearts like yours!

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

-          Amen.

What Swimming Taught Me About the Spiritual Life: Part 1

“Let It Be Done to Me as You Have Said”

Competitive Swimming and Holy Obedience

#betyoudidn'tevenknow
thiswasathing

Over the course of my lifetime, I’ve worn many hats. Currently I’m working towards a beretta. (After all, nothing says manliness quite like a clerical pompom.) I’ve done everything from picking up after dogs on a beach as a lifeguard, to playing the piano in a hotel, to teaching high school in Yonkers, New York. In stark contrast (or perhaps not so stark) to my current pious occupation as a seminarian, I was once a swim coach, and before that a swimmer. I coached the Roosevelt High School swim team in the Bronx for three years and spent a year coaching the younger age groups (6-11 years old) at Coastal Maine Aquatics. I spent ten years as a competitive swimmer myself.

See? Told you I was a swim coach.

For those of you not familiar with the swimming world, that means from the age of eight to eighteen, I was in the pool five to six days of the week for two hours a day, eleven months out of the year. It was a significant part of my life. With the chlorine fumes finally out of my system and my hair finally turned back to its original dark color after the pool turned it blond (my mother didn’t recognize me when it first happened), I’m able to reflect on the lessons I learned in the pool. What is fascinating is that I am now realizing just how much swimming taught me about the spiritual life.

For those of you who swam with me or perhaps are swimmers yourselves. You might be tempted to scoff at this and blame it on lost brain cells from the chlorine fumes. Swim practice is not the most contemplative environment nor are the conversations that occur amongst teammates often the most edifying (those who swam with me know just what an understatement that is…) I grant all that. Even a week ago, I would have been shocked that I was ever writing such an article. But hear me out. I think you’ll agree that there are definite lessons that carry over.

The first I would like to discuss is the lesson I learned in obedience.

Yeah, more rolls than that.

When I started swimming, I was a porky little eight-year-old. Frankly I was a porky little nine-year-old too. And a porky little ten-year-old when I stop to think about it. I had more rolls than an Italian bakery. Come to think of it, this fact might have been the motivating factor when my mom called me in from playing with the neighbors and told me I was joining a swim team. Twenty minutes after that announcement, I was in the pool at my first swim practice…

For first few years of swimming, I wasn’t all that fast. I was basically in the middle of the pack for my age group, but I certainly wasn’t breaking any records and I didn’t expect to any time soon. Consequently, it was a big shock to me when at age eleven I did break a record. It was the state age group record for the 11-12 400 long course meter freestyle. It was a long course record (50-meter pool) and there are no long course pools in the state of Maine, so it wasn’t the most competitive record on the books. But still, this was the first of several state age group records that I would break over the course of my swim career, and it made me stop, step back and wonder, “How did I get here?”

The truth was, I wasn’t doing anything extraordinary with my training. Some of my teammates would work out on their own, go for runs outside swim practice, and do crunches every day when they got up. Porky ten-year-old me wasn’t about to do any of that. The extras that I associated with top notch swimmers weren’t part of my routine. So how did I suddenly get so fast? The truth was, I got fast by simply doing what my coach told me.

Slackers..

This is a bigger deal than it sounds and those of you who have been involved with sports know that. When the coach gives a set, you could respond in a number of ways. You could whine about it and demand an easier workout. You could complete the yardage but slack on your technique or not do the drills you’re supposed to. You could feign a cramp and get out of at least fifty yards. Or if the coach isn’t looking, you just make a U-turn in the middle of the pool and 25 yards are automatically cut out of whatever it was you had to do.

All this stuff went on and I can’t say I was never guilty of any of it. But at that age, I basically did what my coach asked me to do. If the set was hard, I did it anyway. If they asked me to change my stroke up, I tried to do it (with varying degrees of success mind you.) Not surprisingly, just by showing up to practice and doing what I was told, I got to be good at swimming. It was as simple as that.

If saying yes to what your coach asks of you makes you a better athlete, then you can imagine how choosing to always say yes to what God asks of you makes you a better Christian. If holiness is what you’re shooting for (and you should be since that’s what a happy, fulfilling life looks like) then all you have to do is just keep saying yes to God. It is no more complicated than that.

"Let it be done unto me as you
have said." - Luke 1:38

Of course, just as you won’t always like the advice your coach gives you, so too you probably won’t always like what God asks of you. It might require some sort of sacrifice, it may not be what you had planned on, it might even just be that it was His idea and not yours and so that’s why you don’t like it. Whatever it might be, saying “yes” can be tough.

In my own life, I could make a laundry list of things God has asked me to say yes to. Some of them were easier than others. Spending more time with Him in the Eucharist took some discipline but was pretty easy once I realized who it was who was in that tabernacle. Letting go of my ambitions and saying yes to a life of poverty, chastity and obedience was more difficult. When I saw that God completely paved (and paid…) my way to attend Fordham University, it was pretty easy to say yes to that. Saying yes to fasting on Fridays during Lent was more difficult. (Gluttony is my specialty vice…) Whether it meant more time in prayer, giving up some sort of vice or sin, or going to places that would stretch me and help me grow, all I had to do at each stage was just keep saying yes to Him. In time, I would become a humbler, more loving servant of God.

"Yes coach, right away coach, absolutely coach."

So as with your coach, you don’t have to do the creative thinking yourself. Your job is just to keep saying yes to Him. If you do that, He knows where you need to grow, He knows what will make you stronger, He knows what in the end will make you thrive and how He can use you best for the good of the team (i.e. the Church universal.) Your only job is to keep saying yes to Him.

More reflections on the spiritual lessons you can learn in the pool will be forthcoming, as soon as I get a chance to write them. Until then, practice hard and pray harder!

Death Alone Can Separate Me from Them

The Mission of Fr. Sebastian Rale to the Abenakis of Maine

The east bank of the Kennebec, near
where the Narantsouack mission was
located.

Follow the Kennebec River from its mouth in Bath, past Old Fort Western in Augusta, past Taconic Falls in Waterville, past the river's westward turn in Skowhegan, and there on the east bank, you will find a cemetery in what is now Madison, Maine. Before the cemetery was ever there, before the mill at Taconic Falls was ever running, even before Old Fort Western was built, there once was a mission that stood here and its last pastor was a priest by the name of Fr. Sebastian Rale. Ashes are all that remain of this once great 17th century mission to the Abenakis.

To read Fr. Rale's description of this mission, it sounds like it was a veritable Christian paradise. Fr. Rale spent his days baptizing, saying Mass, offering counsel, anointing the sick, catechizing children and in all things pointing the Abenaki people to Jesus Christ. He built two chapels on the banks of the Kennebec: one dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary at the head of the river and the other dedicated to the Guardian Angel. The natives of the village saw to it that these two chapels were well adorned, but nothing could compare to the church. Fr. Rale writes to his nephew that he thought it his duty to spare nothing in its decoration, “altar-cloths, chasubles, copes, sacred vessels, everything is suitable, and would be esteemed in the Churches of Europe.”

Fr. Pierre Biard (one of the
early Jesuit missionaries in
Maine) offering Mass for the
native Americans.

More notable than the buildings themselves were the people who filled them. Twice a day the Neophytes came to the church, in the morning to hear Mass and in the evening to be present at the prayers which Fr. Rale offered at sunset. It was more than obedience that brought them to Mass. The Neophytes chanted prayers throughout the Mass that Fr. Rale designed to help them enter the spirit of the Holy Sacrifice. About forty altar boys assisted in cassock surplice at the Mass and in the processions and for the processions, native Americans came from near and far to be present.

But although the Prince of Peace reigned supreme on the banks of the Kennebec, just down the coast trouble was brewing. Fr. Rale’s post among the Abeankis was at the southwest border of the territory claimed by New France. As the New England colonists pushed north, the Kennebec River became a contentious border and the Narantsouack mission became an increasingly dangerous place for a priest to be.

The conflict began with a trade deal. The native Americans lacked the complex economy of the Europeans that could produce tools. The Europeans lacked the abundant wilderness and the hunting skills which the native Americans used to provide furs. Therefore trade was profitable for the Europeans and necessary for the natives. Traditionally the Abenakis traded with the French who were their allies, but the English were much closer to them in Boston than the French in Quebec. When the English asked permission to build trading posts near Narantsouack, the Abenakis agreed. It was to their advantage to have easy to access to trade with the English.

Fort Halifax, located on the Kennebec River in present day
Winsow, Maine

Trade was not what the English had in mind. Territory was. Rather than build trading posts, the English built forts. The forts were built closer and closer to Abenaki territory and when the Abenakis demanded to know why, the English replied that their land belonged to them.

Tensions grew. A group of about twenty Abenakis went to the English colony with the intention of trading when suddenly they were surrounded by two hundred armed men. They were prepared to fight for their lives, but the colonists dissuaded them by saying they only wanted them to come with them to Boston to make a trade deal. Four native Americans boarded that ship and soon found themselves prisoners being held for ransom.

Further kidnappings by the British followed. Negotiations were had but none were fruitful and eventually war broke out.

A depiction of Fr. Rale found
in Notre Dame Church in
Skowhegan, Maine

It seems clear enough that aggressive expansion on the part of the English caused the war, but who did the English blame for it? None other than the missionary to the Abenakis, Fr. Rale. With each attempt on the part of the English to convince the Abenakis to ally with themselves, Fr. Rale stood in the way. The English blamed it on political intrigue, but that would be hard to imagine for a man who renounced the world and voluntarily chose a life of poverty away from France dedicated to the salvation of souls. No, it was the faith that held the Abenakis back from an English alliance. If they allied with the English, they knew they would not permit them to have a priest and having encountered Our Lord in the sacraments, they were not going to give Him up so easily.

Thus Fr. Rale became a wanted man. A high price was put on his head (or rather, his scalp.) Several attempts were made to capture or kill him. In January of 1722, two young Abenakis were hunting by the seashore, when they got news that the English had entered the Kennebec River. The village of Narantsouack was vulnerable. The men were all out hunting and only the women and children were left along with one other notable person: Fr. Rale. The two young Abenakis saw the danger immediately. The English boats were within 35 miles of the village and they immediately turned back to the village and ran as fast as they could (dozens of miles) to warn Fr. Rale and help the old men, women and children escape in time.

When the two messengers arrived at Narantsouack, there wasn’t much time left. Fr Rale consumed the sacred hosts in the tabernacle, packed up the sacred vessels and then escaped into the woods. He wasn’t able to make it far. It was winter, the snow was deep and a badly injured leg didn’t permit him to run far. When the English arrived at the village, he was only a within a gunshot’s range. There were no leaves on the trees, there was no place to hide and the English, having not found him in the village, were now on the hunt. Fr. Rale writes to his nephew:

Pine trees near the old Narantsouack mission. This is likely
what Fr. Rale was attempting to hide behind.

They immediately searched the various paths worn by the Savages when they go for wood, and came within eight steps of the tree that was sheltering me, where naturally they must have perceived me, for the trees had shed their leaves; nevertheless, as if they had been driven away by an invisible hand, they suddenly retraced their steps, and again took the way to the Village.

Jesus Christ had plans for Fr. Rale. It was not his time yet; there was still more to be done in the service of Great King.

It was becoming increasingly clear that it was not safe for Fr. Rale in Narantsouack. As much as the Abenakis loved their priest who had been with them for thirty years, they loved him too much to see him stay in harm’s way. They begged him to leave, to go someplace where it was safe. But the shepherd refused to leave his flock. Fr. Rale writes to his nephew, “My Neophytes moved by the danger to which I am exposed in their Village, often urge me to retire for a little time to Quebec. But what will become of the flock, if it be deprived of its Shepherd? Death alone can separate me from them.”

That day finally came in August of 1724. Covered by the dense thickets around the village, 1100 Englishmen and their Iroquois allies snuck up on the village of Narantsouack. Since there was no wall around the village, they were able to approach completely unnoticed and as soon as they arrived, they rained down musket fire on the innocent civilians.

The death of Fr. Rale at the foot of the
cross.

The alarm went up, but there were only fifty warriors present in the village. Outnumbered 22:1, there was little chance of them warding off the enemy. Their only hope was to grab their weapons and perhaps oppose them long enough to allow the women and children to escape.

Fr. Rale meanwhile heard the commotion. His Neophytes were in danger and he had to do something about it. In the middle of the attack, Fr. Rale stepped out of his house and appeared fearlessly before the enemy. Perhaps he hoped to negotiate and dissuade the attackers. Perhaps he simply hoped to draw their attention to himself alone and so keep his flock safe. Whatever his intentions, the attackers were not slow in noticing him.

The reports we have on this incident are from a letter from Fr. De La Chasse, Fr. Rale’s Jesuit superior. He in turn received these reports from eyewitnesses who were present at the massacre. This is what he records:

As soon as they perceived the Missionary, a general shout was raised which was followed by a storm of musket-shots that was poured upon him. He dropped dead at the foot of a large cross that he had erected in the midst of the Village, in order to announce the public profession that was made therein of adoring a crucified God. Seven Savages who were around him, and were exposing their lives to guard that of their father, were killed by his side.

Thus ended the life of Fr. Rale. He gave his life to satisfying the thirst of Christ who hung on the cross longing for souls. Now Fr. Rale laid down his life at the foot of the cross, choosing to die rather than abandon those souls entrusted to him by God.

The monument in St. Sebastian
Cemetery, marking the resting
place of Fr. Sebastian Rale.

Sadly, the massacre wasn’t over. The Abenakis tried to flee across the river, but the English shot them while they desperately tried to swim. Still, the carnage could have been worse. Although 150 fugitives gathered in the woods, only thirty were killed. Meanwhile, the English burned the village. The church that had recently rebuilding was torched once again, but not before the Holy Eucharist was snatched out of the tabernacle and the Precious Body of Our Lord basely profaned. 

"I thirst!"

When all was over, the Abenaki people returned to the ruins of their beloved village. They beheld the ashes to which their church had been reduced. Taking the body of their holy missionary, which had been badly mutilated, they dug a grave where the day before the altar had stood and laid their priest to rest. He had stood there at the foot of Calvary Hill offering Mass for them day after day and now, having gone to his own Calvary, there he would rest until Jesus Christ would come again.

These were some of the first seeds of faith planted on Maine soil. They were watered by the arduous labors of men and women who fell in love with Christ and answered His call to bring Him souls. And still Christ hangs on the cross, thirsting for souls. Still there are souls who stray away from His love. Who will pick up the cross? Who will bear His love to them? Who will satiate His thirst? The first seeds have been scattered, the part of the early missionaries is done. Now it is for us to take up that same cross and follow Him.