Making a Home for Jesus and Mary: Fr. Rale Pilgrimage 2018

They Have No Wine

Our Lady at the foundations of this diocese

On the third day there was a wedding in Cana in Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples were also invited to the wedding. When the wine ran short, the mother of Jesus said to him, “They have no wine.” And Jesus said to her, “Woman, how does your concern affect me? My hour has not yet come.” His mother said to the servers, “Do whatever he tells you.”– John 2:1-6

We know the rest of the story. Jesus tells the servers to fill six water pots with water and bring them to the headwaiter, who tastes them only to discover they have become wine.

The story you just heard has become a pattern over the centuries. There was a wedding feast in Cana and they ran out of wine. Mary saw that they were in need and she wasted no time. She knew who could help them. So she went to her Son and told Him, “They have no wine.” Jesus says, “What concern is this of mine?” but she won’t take no for an answer. She already knows He won’t refuse His mother. She simply ignores Him (as a mother would do) and then tells the waiters, “Do whatever He tells you.” She knows He will answer the prayer, so simply follow His instructions and all will be well. 

This has been Mary’s role throughout the centuries. Jesus knew what He was doing when He gave us His mother as our mother from the cross. Over and over again she has noticed our need, both material and spiritual and gone to her Son knowing that her prayer will not be refused. Then she tells us to do whatever He should tell us to do, to let Him use us as His instruments to work whatever miracles He wishes.

With that in mind, I want to bring you back to the year 1634. A young nun named Sr. Marie of the Incarnation had just finished her prayers and gone to bed when she had a dream. She is being led through a beautiful land to some destination, she knows not where. Finally, she arrives and what she sees has everything to do with our story. I want to read this excerpt from her journals to you:

Advancing within, I saw at some distance to my left a little church of wrought white marble, on top of which was the Blessed Virgin, seated on the pinnacle. She was holding the Child Jesus on her lap. This place was very elevated, and below it lay a majestic and vast country, full of mountains, of valleys, and of thick mists which permeated everything except the little building which was the church of this country.

The Blessed Virgin, Mother of God, looked down on this country, as pitiable as it was awesome.…I ran towards this divine Mother and stretched out my arms so that they touched the two ends of this little church on top of which she was seated. Eagerly I awaited some word from her. As she gazed upon this unfortunate country I could see her only from behind. Then I beheld her become supple and look at her Divine Child, to whom she silently intimated something important concerning myself. It seemed to me that she spoke about this country and about myself and that she had in mind some plan which involved me.

Marie says this country was pitiable and unfortunate. Why? Because the souls therein did not know Jesus. The Mother God sat atop this little church looking on it with sadness. They did not know her Son, they did not know the love and the joy He wished to pour upon them, and her heart. And so what did the Mother of God do? She whispered into the ears of her divine Child, “They have no wine. They need you. Who will bring you to them? Who bring them your love?” And in the midst of this conversation, Sr. Marie steps in. She knows they’re talking about her, she knows they have some plan, but she has no idea what it is.

What is this land that the Mother of God was so concerned for? What is this land that Sr. Marie (now St. Marie of the Incarnation) was shown? Months later, Sr. Marie had a vision in which Jesus appeared her. She writes:

One day, while my soul was in these dispositions, I was praying before the Blessed Sacrament when my spirit was of a sudden ravished in God. During this rapture the vast country which had already been shown to me in the manner I have described above was represented to me with all its circumstances. Then this adorable Majesty said to me, “It is Canada that I have shown you; there you must go to make a home for Jesus and Mary.”

Canada. Our Lady was praying for Canada. This could be presumptuous, but I would be willing to wager that Jesus did not have modern political boundaries in mind when He showed St. Marie this vast land. At the time of St. Marie, that vast land included most of what is now the state of Maine. Our Lady look out over, yes, Quebec and Montreal and saw souls being lost there, but also over Madawaska and Jackman and Bangor and Skowhegan. She was praying for us. And what was their mission for St. Marie?: to make a home here for Jesus and Mary.

Thus missionaries began being called to this frontier wilderness to bring the gospel to native Americans who had never heard it before. When you look at the stained glass windows of the church, it’s like watching the conversation between Jesus and Mary on that hill unfold before our eyes. The earliest priests depicted there are Fr. Pierre Biard and Fr. Enemond Masse who founded the first Catholic mission on Mount Desert Island in 1614. The mission began when a child was miraculously cured after having been baptized and it ended when an English ship raided the mission and took Fr. Biard prisoner. Fr. Gabriel Druillettes continued the work of making a home here for Jesus and Mary. Seeing the joy of tribe members who had embraced the faith in Canada, Abenakis on the Kennebec begged that a priest be sent to them so that they could receive the sacraments. For two years Fr. Gabriel sent to them and he founded the mission of the Assumption in Augusta and the Norridgewock mission that Fr. Rale would later become pastor of. And finally we come to Fr. Rale, the first permanent pastor of the Norridgewock tribe. These men were an answer to Our Lady’s prayer. She saw the needs of this territory, she saw we had no wine, and her prayers to her Son were answered.

Today, we’re going to follow the life of Fr. Sebastian Rale who was one of these missionaries sent to bring the love of Jesus to the state of Maine. We’re going to meditate on his example and the lessons he can teach us about how to live as Christians. But we’re going to do more than just that. We are going with Mary to Jesus to tell Him, “We have no wine,” that souls are thirsting for Him in the state of Maine and they don’t even know it. And after that what will we do? We will ask Jesus for the grace to do just what Our Lady asked and do whatever He tells us, so that we can be His instrument in this great plan of His for the state of Maine.

For the next thirty minutes, you’ll have some time to talk to Jesus and prepare yourself for the journey you’re about to undertake. You can see in the program there are reflection questions. I would encourage you to reflect a little about your needs, the needs of your family and the needs of this state. When you’re ready, I would encourage you to approach the altar and kneeling face to face before Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament, lay those needs before Him.

The second step, to do whatever He tells us, will be difficult and so I would ask you to then pick up both a Miraculous Medal and a rosary. The Miraculous Medal was given to us by Our Lady in 1830, who promised great graces to those who wore it around their neck. The Miraculous Medal is Our Lady’s shield for you in the spiritual battle, the rosary is her weapon. If you offer yourself to the service of Jesus, you’ll find you use both quite a bit. Once you have taken one of each, I would encourage you to say the prayer printed in the program and then return to your seat.

Again, you’ll have thirty minutes. I would encourage more than one person to go at a time, otherwise we will run out of time before the thirty minutes are up. After those thirty minutes, a bell will ring and we will begin a rosary with Fr. Rale.

Who Does This Land Belong To? 

Making a home for Jesus and Mary in Maine

Thus we come to the end of the story. Jesus is taken down from the cross and placed in the arms of His mother, who loved Him more than anyone. Fr. Rale’s body is taken in the arms of his flock, who loved him more than anyone.

Some say that no one knows where they buried his body since the body was hidden to keep it from being desecrated. According to the account by his superior, his body was buried here, beneath the altar where Fr. Rale stood at the foot Calvary in the Mass every day before he went to his own Calvary. A hundred years later, Bishop Benedict Fenwick bought this land and erected a monument in honor of this devoted pastor. Interestingly enough, when you look at the deed to the land, Bishop Fenwick bought the land for 100 pieces of silver, the same price that was set on Fr. Rale’s head by the English.

What can we learn from this? What I first like to point out is that this conflict that led to Fr. Rale’s death runs deeper than might first meet the eye. At first glance, you might think this was all a fight over land rights. After all, when you look at the wars that preceded the Norridgewock massacre, they’re all disputes over who has the rightful claim to this land east of the Kennebec. But I would argue something else is going on. This is still a dispute over land rights, but at its core it wasn’t about whether the land belonged to the Indians or the English. At its core, this was about whether or not this land belonged to Jesus Christ.

Think back to the beginning of this pilgrimage. What was the mission given by Jesus and Mary to St. Marie of the Incarnation? To make a home here for Jesus and Mary. What was Fr. Rale doing here? He was making a home for Jesus and Mary among the people of Maine. He was preaching the gospel to them and making room for Jesus in the hearts of the Norridgewock tribe. He was building churches, one in honor of Mary, where Jesus would take up his abode, body, blood, soul and divinity. He was insisting on the law given to us by God, that Jesus might be the ultimate ruler of this land.

Now look at the sins the English fell into. First, they rejected Jesus’ rule and His laws. They thought they had justice on their side because they could trot out legal technicalities that made it look like this land belonged to them, but they did so by ignoring a law that was higher than their treaties and contracts. Thou shalt not steal, thou shalt not covet they neighbors’ goods, thou shalt not kill are not subject to revision by human beings. These are laws given to us by God and their observance is commanded by Jesus Christ. But the English ignored them.

Then when they had snubbed Jesus’ commands, they tried to drive Jesus Himself from this land. They began by outlawing all priests. The very men Jesus had appointed to make Himself present, body, blood, soul and divinity they banned. The very men Jesus had appointed to be instruments of His mercy in the sacrament of confession, they banned. And if a priest of Jesus Christ were caught within New England territory, he would either be imprisoned for life or killed.

When they had driven Jesus from New England, they then attacked Him in Norridgewock. The church that Fr. Rale had been so careful to decorate, to make it a fitting home for Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, they burned down three times. The first two times they did this, Fr. Rale had removed the Blessed Sacrament to protect Our Lord from abuse. But the third time, the pastor was not there to intervene. They had already killed him. They went to the tabernacle and abused Our Lord’s sacred body and then burned His house.

You see? This wasn’t a fight about whether the land belonged to the English or the Indians. This was a fight about whether this land belonged to Jesus Christ.

This land belongs to Jesus. The people of Maine have been purchased by Jesus Christ when He shed His blood and died for them. Whether they realize it or not, these people and this land belong to Him.

This land belongs to Mary. When He died on the cross, Jesus gave us Mary as our Mother: “Behold thy Mother!” She is queen of Heaven and Earth and she has a special love for Maine. She has been praying for this land for centuries, that her Son might have a home here. She has adopted us as our patroness and our diocese is dedicated to her under the title of the Immaculate Conception.

This land belongs to Jesus and Mary and it’s time we made a home for them here. In this time when families are falling apart, it is time that the people of Maine knew that they have a mother and her name is Mary. She has been praying for them since before they were born. She continues to pray for us and be a mother to all the people of this state.

In this time of political division, it is time that the people of Maine knew that they have a king to whom they owe their ultimate allegiance and His name is Jesus Christ. He is their savior, His laws and policies are just, and it is Him that they should serve.

The work begun by men like Fr. Rale, to make a home for Jesus and Mary in the state of Maine, is not yet finished. Now it is our turn. Let us go with Mary to Jesus and tell Him that the people of Maine have no wine. Then let us do whatever He tells us.

Fr. Rale Pilgrimage 2018: Prayers and Reflections

Following Our Lady to the Foot of the Cross 

Fr. Rale Pilgrimage, August 11th, 2018 

An Introduction to Fr. Sebastian Rale – Louise Ketchum Hunt

Louise Ketchum Hunt is the author of the most recent book on Fr. Rale, In the Shadow of the Steel Cross published in 2015. Her book weaves historical information and oral tradition passed on by the native Americans of Maine into a compelling narrative, giving a window into aspects of Fr. Rale’s life and character not covered by traditional sources. A native of Maine, Mrs. Hunt and her husband currently live in Alabama.


Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament

O salutaris Hostia,
Quæ cæli pandis ostium:
Bella premunt hostilia,
Da robur, fer auxilium.

Uni trinoque Domino
Sit sempiterna gloria,
Qui vitam sine termino
Nobis donet in patria.

Amen.

Opening Reflection: They have no wine

A Reading from the Gospel of John

On the third day there was a wedding in Cana in Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples were also invited to the wedding. When the wine ran short, the mother of Jesus said to him, “They have no wine.” And Jesus said to her, “Woman, how does your concern affect me? My hour has not yet come.” His mother said to the servers, “Do whatever he tells you.” – John 2:1-6

Questions for Reflection

You will have about thirty minutes for prayer and reflection. In that time, I would ask you to reflect on the questions below: 

1. What are the needs of my family that I want to bring before Jesus? What are the needs of my community? The needs of the people of this diocese and this state?


2. Am I prepared to do whatever Jesus asks of me? Do I trust Him enough to follow wherever He should lead, however mundane or extraordinary?


When you are ready, you may go to kneel before Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament. Ask Our Lady to go with you and bring your needs to Jesus with her. Once you have brought your intentions to Jesus, take a rosary and a Miraculous Medal (we will use both throughout the pilgrimage) and say the following prayer:

Mary immaculate, patroness of this diocese, I entrust my needs and petitions to you and ask you to bring them to your Son. Please pray for the needs of the state of Maine, for the conversion of souls and for my own conversion. I offer myself in service to whatever designs your Son may have for me. Pray for me, that I may have the courage to do whatever He tells me.

A Rosary with Fr. Rale

I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth. And in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord; Who was conceived by the Holy Spirit; Born of the Virgin Mary; Suffered under Pontius Pilate; Was crucified, dead and buried; He descended into Hell; The third day He rose again from the dead; He ascended into heaven; And is seated at the right hand of God the Father Almighty; From thence He shall come to judge the living and the dead.

- I believe in the Holy Spirit; The Holy Christian Church, the Communion of Saints; The Forgiveness of sins; The Resurrection of the body; And the life everlasting. Amen.
Our Father, Who art in heaven Hallowed be Thy Name; Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

- Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.

Hail Mary, Full of Grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

- Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death. Amen. (3X)

Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit

- As it was in the beginning is now and ever shall be, world without end. Amen


1st Mystery: The Annunciation

We pray for the grace to say yes to God’s call

From the papal bull Regimini militantis ecclesiae (1540) describing the Jesuit’s fourth vow of special obedience to the pope

Whatever the present or other Roman pontiffs order that concerns the saving of souls and the spread of the faith, and to whatever provinces he shall wish to send us, this let us strive to accomplish as far as in us lies, without any turning back or excuse; whether he shall send us to the Turks, or to any other infidels, even those living in the lands that are called the Indies; or to any heretics or schismatics, or believers, whatever. Wherefore let those that are about to join us consider long and well, before they put their shoulders to this task, whether they have enough grace for good deeds to mount this citadel at the command of their superiors; that is, whether the Holy Spirit that urges them promises to them enough grace to enable them with God’s help to bear the weight of this calling.

Reflection

When the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary, she did not know everything God was asking of her. She did not know that Joseph would consider divorcing her, that she would have to flee to Egypt with her child, or that her child would be cruelly beaten and nailed to a cross. All she knew was God was calling her and she would say yes to whatever He asked: “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord, be it done unto me according to Thy Word.”

When Fr. Rale took the fourth vow to go wherever the pope should ask, he did not know what God had in store for him. He did not know where he would be assigned, what he would eat, what language he would speak, or what joys and dangers might await him. All he knew was that God was calling him through His vicar on earth, and he would resolve to go wherever God called. Let us ask Our Lady for a great trust in God’s providence, that we may always say yes to Him and follow wherever He should lead us.

Let us pray.

Mary, humble handmaid of Almighty God, ask your Son Jesus to grant us an unbounded confidence in His plan for our lives. Pray for us, that in trusting Him absolutely, we might never hesitate to say yes to Him and follow Him wherever He should call.
Our Father…

Hail Mary… (10X)

Glory be…


2nd Mystery: The Visitation

We pray for the grace necessary to make God’s love known far and wide

From Fr. Rale’s address to the Amalingan tribe (c. 1700)

My children, for a long time I have desired to see you; now that I have this happiness, my heart is almost bursting. Think of the joy that a father has who tenderly loves his children, when he sees them again after a long absence in which they have run great dangers, and you will conceive a part of mine. For, although you do not yet pray, I nevertheless look upon you as my children, and have for you a father’s tenderness, — because you are the children of the Great Spirit, who has given life to you, as well as to those who pray; who has made Heaven for you as well as for them; who thinks of you as he thinks of them and of me; and who desires that all should enjoy eternal happiness. …If you have insurmountable obstacles to prayer, and if, remaining in the condition in which you are, I were able to make you enter into Heaven, I would spare nothing in order to procure for you this happiness. I would urge you on, I would make you all enter there, so much do I love you, and so much do I desire that you should be happy; but that is not possible. You must pray, and you must be baptized, that you may be able to enter that place of delight.

Reflection

Mary went in haste to her cousin Elizabeth to confirm that the angel’s words were true. When Elizabeth confirms for Mary what the angel told her, Mary cannot contain her joy. “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord…for He has remembered His promise of mercy!” God’s love is so powerful that when we encounter it, we cannot hold it in. We have to make His love known to everyone we meet.

That is what Fr. Rale is doing in New France: proclaiming the greatness of the Lord to those who have not heard the good news. He holds back nothing. He doesn’t worry about how his message will be received or whether he will be rejected but boldly lets them know how much they are loved by God.

Let us pray to Mary, that like her nothing might hold us back from making God’s love known far and wide.

Let us pray.

Our Lady of the Sacred Heart, ask your Son Jesus to set our hearts on fire with His love. Aflame with His love, pray that Jesus might give us the grace to make that love known in our families, in our local communities and throughout the state of Maine.

Our Father…

Hail Mary… (10X)

Glory be…


3rd Mystery: The Nativity

We pray for a spirit of poverty

From Fr. Rale’s letter to his brother (1723)

The thing which most shocked me when I began to live among the Savages, was being obliged to take my meals with them; for nothing could be more revolting. When they have filled their kettle with meat, they boil it, at most, three-quarters of an hour, — after which they take it off the fire, serve it in basins of bark, and distribute it among all the people who are in their cabin. Each one bites into this meat as one would into a piece of bread. This spectacle did not give me much appetite, and they very soon perceived my repugnance. “Why aren’t you eating?” they said. I answered that I was not accustomed to eat meat in this manner, without adding to it a little bread. “You have to get over yourself,” they replied; “is that so hard for a Patriarch who thoroughly understands how to pray? We ourselves overcome much, in order to believe that which we do not see.” Then it was no longer a time to deliberate; we must indeed conform to their manners and customs, so as to deserve their confidence and win them to Jesus Christ.

Reflection

When God became man, He took on our poverty. He chose to be born in a stable, poor like the poor He came to care for. Next to Him in that stable was Mary. She had yes to God and she would follow His call wherever it led, even to poverty, to giving birth in a stable.

When Fr. Rale said yes to going to the Abenakis, he took on their customs, their manners and yes, even their poverty. He would live with them and like them. He spent countless hours learning a language that was foreign and difficult for him. He learned to eat their food, even though it turned his stomach. When they were hungry, he was hungry. Living among them, he chose to share both their joys and their sorrows. He followed Christ call, for better or for worse.

Are we willing to follow Christ without counting the cost? Are we willing to love Christ and our neighbor, even when it requires that we sacrifice some of our comforts? Pray to Mary, that she might gain for us a spirit of poverty.

Let us pray.

Mary, mother of Jesus, you gave birth to the king of kings in poverty. Pray for us, that He might be our one true possession and that all our worldly belongings might be placed at His disposal, to be used for love of Him and our neighbor.

Our Father…

Hail Mary… (10X)

Glory be…


4th Mystery: The Presentation

We pray for the grace to love until it hurts

From Fr. Rale’s letter to his nephew (1722)

This accommodating spirit of the Savages emboldened the English to settle all along the river without asking consent; they built houses and erected forts, three of which were of stone… But at last — seeing themselves gradually, as it were, surrounded by English settlements — they began to open their eyes, and to become suspicious. They asked the English by what right they had thus settled in their territory, and had even constructed forts therein. The answer that was given them — to wit, that the King of France had ceded their country to the King of England — threw them into the greatest alarm; for there is not one savage Tribe that will patiently endure to be regarded as under subjection to any Power whatsoever; it will perhaps call itself an ally, but nothing more. Therefore the Savages immediately sent a few of their number to Monsieur the Marquis de Vaudreuil, Governor- general of New France, to inquire if it were true that the King really had thus disposed of a country of which he was not master.

Reflection

Imagine how much it hurt her to hear Simeon’s words, “This child shall be a sign of contradiction and your heart shall be pierced as with a sword.” She knew then that her Son would suffer. This would break the heart of any mother, but for Mary whose pure heart loved Jesus more than anyone will ever know, seeing her Son suffer would cause her unbearable suffering, it would pierce her heart like a sword.

So too, imagine what it was like for Fr. Rale to hear the news that the Treaty of Utrecht had been signed. The English were claiming that the King of France had given Indian lands to the English, making his flock English subjects, bereft of their ancestral heritage. He could see the abuses that awaited his flock and the almost certain war that would break out. He did not take this as his cue to leave or think of his own welfare; no, he loved his tribe so much that their troubles broke his heart and bound him to their fate.

Do we dare love that deeply? Does the suffering of those we love pierce of our hearts? Or do we guard our hearts precisely to keep them from breaking? Pray to Mary, that Jesus might give us tender hearts and sustain us through difficult moments.

Let us pray.

Immaculate heart of Mary, pierced with a sword, ask your Son Jesus to make our hearts tender. May they bleed for those who suffer, for those who are unknown and unloved, who do not know your Son. And may our hearts suffer for love of Him, whose greatest sadness is that His love is not returned.

Our Father…

Hail Mary… (10X)

Glory be… 

5th Mystery: Jesus Cleanses the Temple

We pray for the virtue of fortitude

From Fr. Rale’s Letter to Captain Moody (1720)

I’m presently composing an ample writing about these things to send to the King of France, that he see what I do to preserve my Indians in their land and prayers which depend thereon…I’ll cause my book to be printed, presented to the King and the public, that it may be seen what I do for my children. Shall they be cheated, driven from their lands and prayers, and shall not I counsel and defend them? They shall sooner take away my life than hinder me! The book shall be embellished with figures of rhetoric, epigrams, poetry, etc. A Jesuit is not a Baxter, or a Boston minister.

I’ll describe how the English treat the Indians, killing them and their dogs (dearer to him than his oxen.) [How he] would govern them, possesses his land without his consent to his own great profit, and when the Indian says to the English, “Why are you doing this?” the answer is, “I’m offended – your priest told you to say that!”

Reflection

Jesus was patient with the penitent sinner, but fierce with the unrepentant. In seeing His Father’s house turned into a den of thieves, Jesus grabbed a whip and drove the money changers out of the Temple. He would not tolerate such evil and thus the scribes and the Pharisees began making plans to have Him killed.

So too when Fr. Rale saw his flock mistreated, members of the tribe kidnapped and held for exorbitant ransom, land stolen, and tribe members cheated, he could not remain silent. Fr. Rale repeatedly stood up to the English. This boldness of his caused a price to be put on his head.

Pray to Our Lady, that we might have courage in standing up for justice and remain steadfast in facing our crosses.

Let us pray.

Our Lady Mirror of Justice, you have a special love for the poor and oppressed. Pray that we might not be silent in the face of evil but may we be instruments of your Son, that His light might shine in the darkness and justice may be done.

Our Father…

Hail Mary… (10X)

Glory be… 

Benediction

Tantum ergo Sacramentum
Veneremur cernui:
Et antiquum documentum
Novo cedat ritui:
Præstet fides supplementum
Sensuum defectui.

Genitori, Genitoque
Laus et iubilatio,
Salus, honor, virtus quoque
Sit et benedictio:
Procedenti ab utroque
Compar sit laudatio.
Amen.


℣. You have given them bread from heaven.

℟. Having within it all sweetness.

℣. Let us pray. O God, who in this wonderful Sacrament have left us a memorial of your Passion, grant us, we pray, so to revere the sacred mysteries of your Body and Blood that we may always experience in ourselves the fruits of your redemption. Who live and reign with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Spirit, on God, for ever and ever.

℟. Amen.

Salve, Regina, Mater misericordiæ,
vita, dulcedo, et spes nostra, salve.
Ad te clamamus exsules filii Hevæ,
Ad te suspiramus, gementes et flentes
in hac lacrimarum valle.
Eia, ergo, advocata nostra, illos tuos
misericordes oculos ad nos converte;
Et Jesum, benedictum fructum ventris tui,
nobis post hoc exsilium ostende.
O clemens, O pia, O dulcis Virgo Maria.


Pray for us, O Holy Mother of God

- That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

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

- Amen.

At this point we will travel to the site of the Narantsouack Mission on Old Point in Madison, Maine. We will begin the procession there by 11:00 AM. Altar servers: please pick up your cassock and surplice now in the back of Notre Dame Church and be vested and at the start of the path at The Pines park on Father Rasle Road by 10:50 AM.

Directions

To get to Madison, turn left on Water Street then fork right onto Commercial Street. When you come to the intersection of Commercial and Madison, go straight onto Elm Street. Elm Street will turn into Norridgewock Avenue which will turn into River Road. You will be on this stretch about five miles.

River Road will intersect with Rt. 201A. Turn right onto Rt. 201A. After 6.3 miles you will make a sharp left onto Father Rasle Road (coming from the other direction, it would be right fork.) If you reach a neighborhood or downtown Madison, you have overshot. On the right side of the road is a park called The Pines. Find a place on the side of the road to park and meet us at the beginning of the park, closest to 201A.

Fr. Rale’s Way of the Cross 

Old Point, Madison, Maine 

Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you falsely because of me. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven. Thus they persecuted the prophets who were before you. – Matthew 5:11-12

1st Station: Jesus Is Condemned

From An Act against Jesuits & Popish Priests (1700)

Whereas Jesuits, Priests and Popish Missionaries have of and for some time have had their residence in the remote parts of this Province [Massachusetts], and other of His Majesties Territory's near adjacent; who by their subtle information, industriously labor to debar, seduce and withdraw the Indians from their due obedience unto His Majesty, and to excite and stir them up to sedition, rebellion and open hostility against His Majesty’s government. For prevention whereof…be it enacted that all and every Jesuit…who shall continue, abide, remain or come in to this Province, or any part thereof, after the tenth day of September aforesaid, shall be deemed and accounted an incendiary, and disturber of the public peace and safety, and an enemy to the true Christian religion, and shall be adjudged to suffer perpetual imprisonment. And if any person being so sentenced and actually imprisoned, shall break prison and make his escape, and be afterwards retaken, he shall be punished with death.

Reflection

Those who live in the darkness hate the light. Jesus’ preaching did not endear Him to the Pharisees and in the end His criticism of them led them to falsely accuse Him and hand Him over to Pilate.

So too Fr. Rale’s protestations against the English colonists did not endear him to them either. They refused to listen. They refused to acknowledge the rights of the Abenaki nations and would not have themselves accused of wrongdoing by a popish priest. Therefore, they resolved to get rid of Fr. Rale by whatever means necessary and in 1720 placed a price on his head.

Imagine Our Lady’s sorrow at both of these condemnations. Pray to her who was mother to both of them as they journeyed to Calvary hill.

Let us pray.

Mary, you had to look on as the world hated your Son and falsely accused Him who gave His life for love of them. You’ve had to look on as His followers have suffered the same hatred. Pray for us when the world hates us, that we might bear the name of Christian proudly and remain faithful to Christ.

At the Cross her station keeping,
stood the mournful Mother weeping,
close to her Son to the last. 

For the sake of His sorrowful passion

- Have mercy on us and on the whole world. (10X)

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

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


2nd Station: Jesus Takes Up His Cross

From Fr. Rale’s letter to his nephew (1722)

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
Though sinless, Jesus had a choice: He could have refused the cross. Had He done so, our salvation would be in jeopardy. But Jesus didn’t. He loved us so much that He even embraced the cross, so that we might be saved.

So too, as the danger increased, Fr. Rale had a choice to make. He could leave, and his tribe would not blame him. But Fr. Rale loved them too much to do that. Who would care for their souls, who would bring them the sacraments if they no longer had a priest? No; love compelled him to take up his cross and follow Jesus wherever He might be leading.

Let us pray.

Mary, when Jesus left you to begin His ministry, you knew He was leaving to go to the cross. While it broke your heart, you let Him go for the good of souls. Pray for us as we take up our own crosses. Pray that we might learn to embrace them like your Son and offer them out of love for Him and for our neighbor.

Through her heart, His sorrow sharing,
all His bitter anguish bearing,
now at length the sword has passed.


For the sake of His sorrowful passion

- Have mercy on us and on the whole world. (10X)

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

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


3rd Station: Jesus Carries His Cross

From Fr. Rale’s letter to his brother (1723)

Two Savages came in haste to my quarters to inform me that they had seen the English at the distance of half a day’s journey. “Our father,” said they, “there is no time to lose; you must go away, you would risk too much in remaining here. As for us, we shall wait for the enemy and perhaps we shall go to meet them. The runners are setting out at this very moment to watch for them; but, as for you, you must go to the Village with these people whom we have brought to conduct you there. When we have learned that you are in a place of safety, we shall be at ease.”

I departed at daybreak with ten Savages who served me as guides; but, after a few days’ journey, we came to the end of our small stock of provisions…In the meantime, we came to a Lake which was beginning to thaw, and where there were already four inches of water on the ice. We were obliged to cross it with our snowshoes on; but as these snowshoes are made of strips of skin, as soon as they were wet they became very heavy and rendered our walking much more difficult. Although one of our men went in advance of us to sound the way, I suddenly sank knee-deep; another man, who was walking by my side, suddenly sank waist-deep, crying out: “My father, I am a dead man!” As I was approaching him to give him my hand, I myself sank still deeper. Finally, it was not without much difficulty that we extricated ourselves from this danger, on account of the impediment caused us by our snowshoes, of which we could not rid ourselves. Nevertheless, I ran much less risk of drowning than of dying from cold in the middle of this half-frozen Lake.

Reflection

Let no one romanticize the cross and think that just because it comes from God, it is not heavy. Even Jesus fell three times under the weight of the cross. So heavy was the weight of our sins.

Fr. Rale’s cross too was no joking matter. For several years he lived under the constant threat of attack and in at least one case, his attempt to escape led him to nearly die of starvation, drowning, and exposure.

Those who embrace the cross do so out of love. But that does not mean it is not heavy. Let us pray to Jesus, that He might walk to Calvary with us and help us when we are too weak to bear its weight.

Let us pray.

Mary, you saw your Son struggle towards Calvary hill, born down by the weight of the cross. You watched as your missionaries struggled to remain at their posts, to persevere in the crosses your Son gave them. Pray for us, that we might persevere in carrying our crosses, not on our own strength but relying on the grace of your Son.

For the sins of His own nation,
Saw Him hang in desolation,
All with bloody scourges rent.


For the sake of His sorrowful passion

- Have mercy on us and on the whole world. (10X)

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

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

4th Station: The Crucifixion

From a letter by Fr. De la Chasse, Jesuit superior (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.

Reflection

Thus ends the long journey to Calvary. Jesus cries out, “It is finished!” And bowing His head, breathes His last.

But notice who is there with Him when He dies. It is not Peter nor any of the apostles save one. It is His Mother who follows Him all the way to Calvary and had been following Him from the very moment she received that joyful call from the angel Gabriel.

So too, Our Lady had been with this mission from the very beginning when Fr. Biard first preached to native Americans on the Kennebec, when Fr. Druillettes founded the mission on the Kennebec and named it after her Assumption, when Fr. Rale built a beautiful chapel in her honor along the banks of the river. She had been here all along and she was there in its final moments, as the English killed their missionary and burned their village to the ground.

Prayer

Everyone is invited to stand or kneel at the monument at the site of the Norridgewock church and the place where some believe Fr. Rale to be buried. This is an opportunity to call on the intercession of Fr. Rale and bring whatever intentions you have before Jesus. After a period of silence, we will recite the follow prayer together.
Mary, grant that I may stand by you at the foot of the cross. Ask Jesus to give me the faith to never doubt His love for me. Ask Jesus to give me the hope to persevere in serving Him, even in times of difficulty. And ask Him to give me perfect charity that my heart might set on fire with His love and radiate His light out to the whole world.

By the Cross with thee to stay,
there with thee to weep and pray,
is all I ask of thee to give.


5th Station: Jesus Is Laid in His Mother’s Arms

From a letter by Fr. De la Chasse, Jesuit superior (1724)

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…After these devout Christians had washed and kissed many times 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.


Final Reflection: Who does this land belong to?

Prayer for the Beatification of Fr. Rale

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.


Our Lady, Queen of Martyrs

- Pray for us

Our Lady of the Americas

- Pray for us

O Mary conceived without sin

- Pray for us who have recourse to thee

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit

- Amen.

Sebastian Rale: Giving All for Love

From a talk on Fr. Rale I gave to a group of college students preparing to do youth ministry in Maine earlier this summer.

Dearest Lord, teach me to be generous.

Teach me to serve you as you deserve;

to give and not to count the cost;

to fight and not to heed the wounds;

to toil and not to seek for rest;

to labor and not to ask for reward,

except to know that I am doing your will.

 Fr. Rale's story is fascinating and it hits close to home, since Fr. Rale gave his life for Jesus Christ only an hour and a half from here in present day Madison, Maine. There are a lot of lessons that could be drawn from Fr. Rale's life but here's the central one I want you to chew on: how much am I willing to give out of love? I think Fr. Rale is a model for that.

"Sell everything you have, give it to the
poor, then come, follow me."

Sebastian Rale was born in France in 1652. There are no obvious indications he was a born prodigy and he doesn't seem to be another Dominic Savio, having attained Christian perfection at ten years old. At your age, his hopes and aspirations in life were probably about the same as yours. I'm sure he wanted a good job, a loving wife and a happy family together with them. But in 1675, Sebastian Rale sacrificed all that for a life of poverty, chastity and obedience in the Society of Jesus. Like many religious before him, he chose to answer Jesus' call to the rich young man to leave everything he had and come follow Him. Those three vows by themselves require a spirit of generosity, that you would respond to God's love by making Him your all, that all you have might belong to Him, that your whole heart might belong to Him, and that your whole will might belong to Him.

This sounds like a lot, but there was still more that could be offered to God. Just when we think we've given everything, God finds something more that He asks us to give out of love for Him. For Sebastian Rale, that came in the form of the call to the missions. He was ordained a priest in 1689 and his first assignment was to Quebec to begin studying the Abekani language in preparation for one day being assigned to live among the Abenaki people and bring Jesus to them.

It doesn't get any better than Mom's cooking...

So I want you to close your eyes and imagine this. Imagine you're at home surrounded by family and friends. You've grown up in that house; it's warm, it's comfortable, it's homey. You can smell a homecooked dinner wafting through the air from the kitchen. It smells delicious and you know that there's more where that came from.

Now imagine you're in the wilderness. Those familiar faces are gone and will never be seen again and are replaced by strangers whose language you don't yet fully understand and whose customs never cease to surprise you. Your warm house is replaced by a hut made of branches and animal skins. The food you once enjoyed so much is now scavenged from the woods and is not only not to your palate but is extremely scarce. But these strangers are loved by Jesus Christ and He has called you to go there. And so you leave more than you thought possible, get in a canoe and travel to the village Narantsouack on the Kennebec River in present day Maine.

A missionary preaches to native Americans

Fr. Rale got right to work once he arrived at the village. These souls were hungry for Our Lord. They had witnessed healing miracles fifty years before when Fr. Druillettes had come and baptized them. They hadn't a priest since. They long to know more about the Great Spirit, they longed for someone to baptize their children, to hear their confessions, and to bring them Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, but there had been no one until now. Now Fr. Rale comes in and takes responsibility for the care of these souls as a father does for his children.

That relationship took work and time to build. It wasn't enough just fill a function. Fr. Rale left everything he had out of love for Christ of course, but in obedience to Christ's commandment to love his neighbor. So out of love for the Abenakis he set himself to the task of getting to know them. He lived among them and like them. He learned their language and even wrote the first dictionary of the Abenaki language ever written. He ate their food (as much as it grossed him out) and went on their hunting expeditions for months on months as their chaplain. He loved them, every part of them.

Loving the Abenaki people the way he did meant giving himself in a generous way that extended beyond his usual spiritual functions. Yes, he spent countless hours catechizing and training altar boys and decorating the church and offering Mass and leading holy hours. But he also founded the first school in the state of Maine so these children could learn both the sacred and the natural sciences. When they were sick, he cared for them. When they had problems, he was the one they went to for counsel. Amidst all these duties, Fr. Rale wrote at one point that he almost never had any time to himself and the only part of his day that he jealously guarded was the time he set aside to pray.

You're beginning to see the pattern. Over the course of his life, the more Fr. Rale fell in love with God and his neighbor, the more he offered himself at the service of both. The more generously Fr. Rale offered himself, the more God asked him to give and the greater the graces God gave to sustain him through it. Just be a holy pastor in that mission would have been a feat in itself, but Fr. Rale's mission was in a unique situation because it was got in a tense and violent conflict with the English settlers to the south of them. This conflict drew out of Fr. Rale a deeper love of God and neighbor than had been required of him before.

Although built slightly after Fr. Rale's death,
Fort Halifax in Winslow is a good example of the
type of  fort that caused such controversy.

There were several incidents with the English that concerned Fr. Rale, but the most important one began in 1714 when France lost Queen Anne's War and ceded Acadia to the English. Based on this, the English assert that the village of Narantsouack and the surrounding hunting grounds on which the Abenakis had lived forever now belonged by right to them. There was just one problem: Narantsouack was never French territory and so the king of France could never ceded that in a treaty. Nevertheless, the English began building forts and settlements and trading posts closer and closer to the Indian village.

Fr. Rale was incensed at the way his flock was being treated and so he decided to stand up to the English. This did not go over well. The English blamed Fr. Rale for riling up the Indians. Rather than seeing their own responsibility in the conflict, they accused the missionary of stirring the Indians up to rebellion in order to further French interests. Consequently, the English decided the priest had to go. They asked the Indians to hand over Fr. Rale and in turn they would give them a Protestant minister in his stead, but they refused to let go of the one whom they called their father. After peaceful means had been tried, the English put a price on Fr. Rale's scalp: whoever brought his scalp back would receive a 100 pound reward. Still, Fr. Rale refused to back down.

Then in 1722, things really came to a head. An English militia attacked Narantsouack and Fr. Rale had just enough warning to go to the church, consume the Blessed Sacrament and run to the woods to hide. By the grace of God, they didn't find Fr. Rale, but they did find his cabin (which they ransacked) and his church, which they burned to the ground. In the wake of this, the Abenakis encouraged Fr. Rale to leave. It was dangerous for him to stay. But that love of Christ and of his neighbor had grown too big for that. He knew that staying meant almost certain death, but if he left, what would happen to the faith of the Abenakis? Who would care for these souls then? As he wrote to his brother he said, "Death alone can separate me from them."

And so it happened. On August 23rd, 1724 Fr. Rale was writing a letter in his cabin. Hearing the sound of musket fire, he hurried out to see the people he loved fleeing for their lives. The men were rushing to arm themselves to defend their families and their village. The women and children were trying to get out of their but not soon enough. When the English saw Fr. Rale, they began firing on him. Seven Indian chiefs died trying to protect their father from those bullets, but to no avail. All died and fell down at the foot of the iron cross in the middle of the village. Thus Fr. Rale gave the last thing he had out of love for God and love for his neighbor.

So now I ask you: how much are you willing to give out of love?

Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty,

my memory, my understanding and my entire will

- all that I have and call my own.

You have given it all to me.

To you, Lord, I return it.

Everything is yours, do with it as you will.

Give me only your love and your grace.

That is enough for me.

On Christian Joy

“Turn me over, I’m done on this side.” These were the light-hearted words of St. Lawrence as he was roasted alive.

“And the disciples were filled with joy and the Holy Spirit”[1] This was St. Luke’s final remark about how Paul and Barnabas were driven out of Antioch.

“And if we knock again, and the porter come out in anger to drive us away with oaths and blows, as if we were vile impostors, saying, `Begone, miserable robbers! to the hospital, for here you shall neither eat nor sleep!' - and if we accept all this with patience, with joy, and with charity, O Brother Leo, write that this indeed is perfect joy.”[2] Poor Br. Leo dared to ask St. Francis of Assisi what perfect joy was and this was what he got.

It has often been noted that one of the oddest things about the saints is their constant and enduring joy. Even while being roasted alive, even while enduring poverty and rejection, the Christian remains joyful. To the outside world this is crazy. Beatings and persecutions are not fun by anybody’s standards. It would all seem absurd, except for the God-man who is the source of their joy.

I remember being in middle school and thinking myself a relatively happy person. I had a good family, I got good grades, I was a competitive swimmer and a good pianist, what more could I want? But then I was at Mass one day and for the first time in my life, I encountered Christ. I heard a sermon preached on the real presence of Jesus in the Eucharist. The idea that what appeared to be mere bread could be the actual body and blood of Jesus shocked me and at first I refused to believe it. But for just a moment, I considered the possibility that maybe, against all laws of nature and reasoning, what Fr. Ted said was actually true.

In that moment, I experienced what I suspect the two disciples on the road to Emmaus experienced: I recognized Him in the breaking of the bread and my heart burned within me. Suddenly I felt overwhelmed by this burning love, this joy that seemed to radiate from the tabernacle. I was brought to tears by it. I felt like my heart was on fire and that warmth was radiating out to my fingertips. Suddenly I knew as a matter of simple observation what before I had only guessed at intellectually: that He was the one my heart was longing for, that He brought me a joy that I could never have imagined, and everything else paled in comparison.

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant searching for fine pearls. When he finds a pearl of great price, he goes and sells all that he has and buys it.”[3]

Herein lies the secret to the joy of the saints: that Jesus Christ is the pearl of greatest price and they would sell everything they have in order to spend eternity with Him.

And it would be worth it.

Of course this sounds absurd. The conventional wisdom is that nothing is worth selling everything for. When we were kids, our mothers scolded us promptly for giving away our lunches for a Pokémon card. As adults, selling the family homestead for tickets to the Super Bowl game would be met with righteous fury. Nothing is worth selling everything for.

Except Jesus. Every Christian who has encountered Our Lord, from the disciples on the road to Emmaus to the elderly woman at daily Mass, knows by matter of simple observation that Jesus is worth leaving all behind for, because He alone offers a joy that makes all else pale by comparison. Only in light of His love and the joy that it brings can the lives of the saints and the message of the Gospel be made intelligible.

“Go into the whole world and proclaim the gospel to every creature.”[4]

Christ calls us to evangelize, the Christian claim that happiness consists in poverty, meekness and persecution, is not easy to believe. Those who hear us have to know that what we say, however counter-intuitive, is real. This is why our example is crucial. When they see this life lived with joy greater than they have seen before, then they know that the Risen Lord whom we preach is real.

Fortunately for us, Christ’s joy is contagious. When a person has a deep encounter with the love of Jesus Christ, it is impossible for him to keep it to himself.[5] It is too intense. Mother Teresa often commented that following the Annunciation, Our Lady, having been given an unimaginable grace, went immediately to her cousin Elizabeth, to share Jesus with others. It is in the nature of God’s love that when we are set on fire with it, when it most consumes us with joy, that then the fire must spread and that love must be brought to others.

You might object that not even the saints were always in a state of perpetual joy. You would be right. What drove the saints was not joy but love. Because of their encounter with the amazing love of Jesus, they knew a great joy. But also because of that love, they knew great sufferings. Because they loved, it hurt them to see Jesus despised and rejected by others, it hurt them to see their neighbors in pain, it hurt them to be separated from Christ even for a moment, and when they willingly sold everything to follow Him, that process of purification hurt. Love was what they pursued at all costs, joy was merely a byproduct of love.

However, notice that even the suffering saints radiated a joy that ordinary people don’t. Mother Teresa suffered terribly in darkness. Yet everyone who encountered her commented on the love and the joy she radiated. She radiated Christ even though the cross she voluntarily took up meant sacrificing the feeling of His love and joy.

How do we become like these saints? How do we authentically witness to Jesus Christ and the joy He brings? Through prayer. We abandon ourselves to the God who loves us. We ask that we, in our littleness, may decrease and He may increase so that His love and His joy that first brought us to faith might in turn radiate out to other people. This is at the heart of evangelization. Apart from this interior conviction, apart from His grace, our words will ring hollow. Only if we radiate Him and His joy will others know the greatness of the God whom we preach.


[1] Acts 13:52 (NABRE translation used from hereon)

[2] Br. Ugolino, The Little Flowers of St. Francis of Assisi, (New York: Heritage Press, 1965), Bk. 1, Ch. 8 https://www.ewtn.com/library/mary/flowers1.htm

[3] Matthew 13:45-46

[4] Mark 16:15

[5] “Here we find the source and inspiration of all our efforts at evangelization. For if we have received the love which restores meaning to our lives, how can we fail to share that love with others?” – Francis. Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium (The Joy of the Gospel). No. 24, 2013. Holy See. Accessed may 3, 2018. https://w2.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/apost_exhortations/documents/papa-francesco_esortazione-ap_20131124_evangelii-gaudium.html

An Open Letter Part 2: Vocation as a Great Adventure

A Spiritual Adventure

Let’s say you’ve come to the point where you’ve said, “Okay, Lord, I’ve fallen in love with you and want to abandon everything to follow you. Now what?” Now what indeed…There are so many ways to devote yourself to God, whether in the monastery, in a parish, or on the streets. I’ve told you not to bother yourself with vocational astrology, so is that to say God doesn’t care whether you become a monk or a missionary? Not exactly…In fact, this is where the real adventure begins.

Although it’s true that you’re not locked into any particular destiny, God probably does have a plan for you. By saying yes to following Him wherever He should lead, you’ve given Him permission to use you however He in His infinite wisdom should see fit. He knows your greatest gifts and now you’ve given Him a free hand to use them to their utmost potential. He knows where you’ll thrive, where you’ll find deep peace and joy, where you’ll be able to work best for His greater glory. He wants you there. The tricky part is, it’s probably not where you’d first expect it to be.

Monks at prayer in St. Joseph's Abbey

Want evidence of that? Those who know me know that I’m naturally inclined to the contemplative life. I find my strength and peace in quiet prayer with Our Lord and when I was in high school, I used to dream about becoming a monk in St. Joseph’s Abbey in Spencer, Massachusetts. Fast forward six years and I was entering a missionary order. Go figure.

So why does God work this way? I can only speak from my own experience, but I’ve found that just as God knew my strengths, He also knew my weaknesses. In saying yes to Him, not only had I given Him permission to use my strengths, but I also gave Him permission to strengthen my weaknesses. My vision of what God was calling me to was limited by my own current weaknesses and limitations. I was a very withdrawn and introspective kid when I was in high school, so I imagined at the time God was calling me to be a monk.

But God’s vision isn’t limited the way mine is: He sees beyond what I am to what I could become. Once I gave Him permission, He began shaping and forming me to be the person He made me to be. He challenged my weaknesses, brought me to places where I would be stretched, and helped me grow in ways I never imagined I could. In short, He brought me on a series of adventures. With each new adventure, there was a new lesson to be learned and a little bit more clarity as to what my particular mission in life would be. At any given time, I only had a snapshot of what was going on. God told me what I needed to hear at the time, but never gave away the ending. Still, the more time went on, the more I followed Him into strange places and experiences, the more my vocation came into focus.I suspect it will be the same with you.

These adventures have occupied the majority of my discernment process, so I would be remiss not to share. For now, I'll tell you about the spiritual adventure that was in store for me. There are more to come.

The First Adventure

A Spiritual Adventure

The first adventure was a primarily spiritual one: it was a process of me getting to know God and in the doing so entering a mysterious world the depths of which I had never before fathomed.

Notre Dame Chapel in Alfred, ME where I first
encountered Christ in the Eucharist.

Most of you know the beginning of this story so I’ll recap it briefly. It was the Feast of Corpus Christi, but to 8th grade me, it was like any ordinary Sunday. But as I sat quietly while Fr. Ted gave his sermon, something out of the ordinary happened: I listened. He was talking about the Eucharist. He said that it wasn’t bread at all: it was Christ Himself. The same Christ who walked the earth 2000 years ago was standing right in front of me.

I was shocked. He couldn’t be serious, and yet he was. I looked over at the tabernacle, where the Blessed Sacrament that I had received so many times before was reserved. I let my doubts go, my insistence on the absurdity of it all and for the first time looked with the eyes of faith: I saw Him. The tabernacle seemed to almost glow. Waves of joy radiated from the tabernacle and burned in my heart. I was overwhelmed by the sheer awesomeness of what was before me and brought to tears. He was here, He was greater than anything I’d ever known and He filled me with a joy that had no comparison in this world. My life took a sharp turn at that point.

It was clear to me that the universe I lived in was a very different place than I had first thought. I thought I knew the way world worked, but it was clear to me now that the world held mysteries the likes of which I had never dreamed of. Stranger still was the fact that I wasn’t the first to discover them…I remember at one point turning to my dad and asking him, “Why didn’t you tell me Christ was present in the Eucharist?” His response was very casual: “Oh, you didn’t know that?” (To his credit, he had told me and I just hadn’t gotten it.) Ordinary Catholics like my dad knew about these things; the Church had held this treasured knowledge for over 2000 years, and I knew none of it. I had to learn more.

Truth be told, I felt a little like Indiana Jones those first few years. I knew there were mysteries and secrets about the world that had yet to be unlocked and I had the strange feeling that bygone ages were more aware of them than our current one. There were more to those old legends about mystics and miracles than met the eye and while most of those beliefs had fallen by the wayside, vestiges of them still remained. Who were those saints in the stained glass window? Why did my grandmother start sprinkling Holy Water every time it started thundering out? And where did that secret staircase in the back of the school chapel lead?

Snooping around the back of the chapel only got me so far. I discovered a reliquary and a bunch of old altars, but none of that told me what they were for. I needed to do some reading up on these things, but where to look? My theology textbook was no help. I mean, pictures of smiling children are great and all, but generically stating over and over again that Jesus loves me wasn’t helping me unlock these mysteries any faster. But the old books took a different approach. What I was looking for couldn't be found in the new glossy paged textbooks but in the old dusty books that no one touched anymore. At Cheverus, those old dusty books were kept in the Jesuit residence...

The Vatican Library: the reason I studied Latin...

The Jesuit residence had been converted to classrooms about fifteen years before I got to Cheverus, but the library remained fully stocked with religious books of all sorts. There was just one problem: students weren’t allowed to take books out of there and the vast majority of the time the door was locked. All except for Key Club meetings…Key Club meetings were held in the Jesuit library. From the time when Mr. Westley finished the meeting to the time when I had to be out (lest I look conspicuous), I had about ten minutes to scan titles and peruse books as fast as I could. While I opened to a lot of random pages in the Summa, and looked at a lot of Latin texts, it didn’t solve my problem. Catholic Encyclopedia, Mother Teresa and the Catechism of the Catholic Church soon became my spiritual and theological staples.

A word to the wise: the Catechism is a great tool. Refer to it often. But I learned by trial and error that it is best not to cross reference it while your theology teacher is lecturing...

It was an intense year. I was constantly peppering my teachers with questions and objections about the faith. I began taking Latin not even knowing where the language came from but only knowing the Church wrote a lot of stuff in it. The more I learned about the Church, the more fascinated I became. It was true: all the mysteries I was bumping into by accident, the Church had known about long ago. She knew Christ was truly present in the Eucharist and even had an ancient practice of adoring Jesus exposed in a thing called a monstrance. She knew that God spoke through prayer (although I had never heard much about it) and could guide me on how to discern the voice of God from my own. She knew that by abandoning myself in faith, the obstacles would be removed and I could see and hear Our Lord. All of her teachings came not from her, but from Christ Himself; I knew that because she was confirming everything I had just seen for myself.

The Cheverus High School chapel where I spent
so many free periods.

Spiritually, I kept digging deeper. You couldn’t keep me away from the Cheverus chapel if you tried. Every morning I would go in there before school and pray the rosary. The rosary was another one of those mysteries I wanted to unlock. I didn't understand it, but I knew Our Lady had appeared at Fatima and asked us to say the rosary every day. Why I still wasn't sure, but I thought maybe I'd understand better if I learned it in Latin. Once I was done with the rosary, I would simply kneel there and talk to Christ present in the Eucharist about my day, my life, His will for me. With all those questions, He was giving me a lot of answers.

Over the years my prayer life evolved. I knew Christ better than I used to and I'd found there was much more to Him than I first thought. By the time I entered college, I had experienced His love and consolation, yes, but also His challenge and rebuke. I knew that He loved me too much to leave me as I was. The rosary, which had begun as rote prayer, had become richer. I’d begun to delve into the mysteries of Christ’s life and they became alive to me. I was drawn particularly by the Sorrowful Mysteries. I came to understand why Christ suffered on the cross, how it was in reparation for each one of my sins that He suffered, and how the depth of His suffering reflected the amazing depths of His love. It taught me something about the horror of sin, but also about what it means to love until it hurts.

St. Joseph, patron of the dying

The mystery kept growing. I was a freshman in college and a lot happened. I stood by my 90 year old distant cousin as she died. I believed in Heaven, I believed in the intercession of the saints, but they were always abstract thoughts for me. No longer. I saw what a change came over her in her last days. Suddenly she could hear me and she was practically deaf before. Suddenly she seemed to know things about me that I didn’t know about myself. Just as I was about to ask out the girl of my dreams, she grabbed my hand, ask me to pray for her, and told me, “You’ll make a good priest.” She passed away with me by her side just as the relationship drama was beginning. I learned through the mess that followed that the devil was real (he so cleverly set me up so as to have to choose between God and the feelings of a person I cared for), but I also discovered that when I asked my cousin for prayers in Heaven, they were very directly answered. Heaven was no joke and the intercession of saints was real.

More things have followed since. Retreats and pilgrimages have brought me to encounters with God and His saints that ten years ago I would never have thought possible. With each new mystery, comes a new problem to be unraveled. Some of this I did by reading the lives of the saints. Others I did through philosophy, trying to learn how to rebuild my worldview (which prior to had been so secular) so that God and the miracles I had come to see were so real were integrated in it. Still others I delved into by talking with spiritual directors, vocations directors, and good friends. What’s important is that through this great adventure, I came to know God better and to fall in love with Him more deeply. And that's the defining feature of a religious vocation: an all consuming love of God.

Thus concludes one chapter of this grand adventure. Tomorrow I’ll take you to inner city schools and Calcutta streets. The adventure continues...

A Worldly Adventure

While the first adventure occurred primarily in study and prayer, this second adventure happened out on the streets. God brought me to people and places that would stretch me and teach me how to better live as His servant. The places He would bring me, the things He would ask me to do were things I never would have guessed when this discernment began. It was a great adventure; in fact, it turned out to be an adventure across the world.

Believe it or not, I used to
whittle on this very stoop...

Believe it or not, I am by nature a homebody. I was one of those strange kids who grew up in Maine and never talked about leaving. I liked the cold, the lakes, the coast, the simple culture, just the fact it was home. When I first started discerning, I assumed I would eventually become a priest in the diocese of Portland. I could think of nothing better than bringing Christ’s love, mercy and presence to a humble parish in Maine, to my home. The idea of exploring strange and new places, having opportunities to do and see things normal Mainers don’t was simply off my radar. It wouldn’t happen. I was happy where I was at, I needed nothing more. I would live liked a Mainer and die like a Mainer.

So when God dropped me in the Bronx, it was a bit of shock to everybody.

My mother and I exploring Fordham
during the college visit

Don’t think that I exaggerate when I say that Providence brought me to Fordham. On my own free will I never would have given the school a second thought. My family was travelling down the coast to Washington, D.C. where I was hoping to visit the Catholic University of America. We stopped in New York City on the way and my dad suggested I visit Fordham. I did it, but I did it to humor him. I wasn’t interested in going to another Jesuit school. Four years of raising objections in theology had made me a little leery of the Catholic identity of Jesuit schools. But it made my dad happy, so we visited.

My parents and I outside Duane Library
at Fordham. Notice how pleased
with himself my dad looks.

By chance, we got a private tour of the school from a philosophy major. By chance, I heard about their Honors Program (it was everything I'd ever dreamed of.) By chance I bumped into the Italian parish down the street and knew I had a spiritual home. I applied. I got in. By chance I got a full ride. By chance I got into the Honors Program. But God knows that none of this was by chance. 

A Mainer in the Hood

So there I was. It was my sophomore year and the kid from Maine who didn’t know how to pronounce the letter “r” was living off campus in the Service Learning House. I would be living in a house with other kids from Fordham who were committed to doing service and getting to know our neighbors in the Bronx. Unlike most of the university,we'd be living outside campus walls and we were supposed to be ambassadors of sorts between the community and the school. My first night there, I met one of my neighbors, but it was an encounter neither of us intended.

We never learned his name. None of us ever spoke with him. Around the house we called him "Dennis" after our Resident Director. Dennis was a homeless man who used to store his shopping cart underneath my bedroom window. At about 7:00 or so in the evening, I’d hear a cart crashing across the threshold of my backyard. He never did anything, but it was a little weird sitting at my desk with only a screen separating me from Dennis' face.

One night we actually staked out for him from the 2nd floor. "Joe, quick! Get the flashlight! I hear something." We got the flashlight alright. We were going to speak to Dennis about storing his shopping cart somewhere else. We beamed the flashlight down. There was a man there, but it wasn't Dennis: we'd caught our security guard taking a whiz on the side of the house. I wasn’t in Kansas anymore…

Beyond the Metal Detector

Part of living the house meant doing service, so for my service project that year, I would be volunteering as a swim coach at the Theodore Roosevelt Educational Campus. Roosevelt was the public high school right across the street from Fordham and it had a rough reputation. When Roosevelt closed in 2006 to reopen as a bunch of smaller schools, their graduation rate was at 3%. I discovered that reputation was earned when I had to go through a metal detector on my way to practice the first day.

God had a lot to teach me through that experience. My swimmers referred to the fence that surrounds Fordham as “the force field.” According to them, by some strange magic, the force field let white people in but all the black people outside the gates seemed to bounce off. Inside the force field it was green and gothic. Outside people got shot. Ordinarily, the Bronx would have intimidated me and I would have stayed safe on campus, behind the fence. But that wasn't enough for God.

It’s true, coming from Maine there was a huge cultural adjustment to coaching at a Bronx public school. Just speaking their language took me long enough. “Mister this is type hard!” “Mister, I’m so brolic!” And then translating all the many strange acronyms that popped up on their Facebook posts…A lot of them were from immigrant families (actually, I think almost all were), whether from Puerto Rico, Kosovo, Nigeria, or the Dominican Republic. And they came from backgrounds that were sometimes tough for me to understand.

Their neighborhoods were often rough. I remember one of my swimmers coming into practice late and describing how he’d spent his morning running away from muggers. “Yo, mister, like, sorry I’m late. I was going to Enes’ house when I saw these two guys coming towards me…I didn’t like the looks of it, so I just booked it…you should have seen me, I was like woosh!...they followed me, but yeah, sorry I’m late.” It was a different world.

God’s love has no boundaries and He wanted me to understand and live that. It didn’t matter that these kids lived in often rough neighborhoods. God brought me there to serve them, to bring His love and joy there, even if all I was doing was teaching them how to swim. My time there was unbelievably rewarding. I saw my swimmers grow as athletes and as people, becoming more disciplined and more responsible as the years went on. I volunteered to coach there for three years. I saw a lot of them graduate and go on to things that I’m proud of them for. Some of them continued to swim when they went to college, others buckled down on their studies. My lesson was learned: even beyond the metal detector, those were people worth serving. God's love had no boundaries. It didn't matter where they were, if there were souls to be served He wanted me there.

Praying for Women and Children

At the March for Life in DC, January 2010

The Bronx held even more adventures for me. By chance (although I knew by then that God doesn’t usually play with chance), I got involved with the Respect for Life club at Fordham. During a club fair, someone called out to me, "Hey! Are you pro-life?" I thought a moment, said yes and put my email on their list. Within two weeks, I went from being a nominal but lukewarm pro-lifer to standing on the sidewalk outside a South Bronx abortion clinic praying for the broken women walking past who felt they had no choice but to end the life of their child.

Praying outside Dr. Emily's abortion clinic
in the South Bronx

Was I intimidated? Oh yeah…It’s amazing how much ire a quiet lap around the rosary can raise, and not from the women we were praying for either. Counter protestors and abortion clinic escorts would taunt us, swear at us and at one point I even got spit at….(he missed.) Again, God’s lesson for me was the same: His love has no boundaries. No matter how dark the situation, God’s love penetrated even there.

Outside that clinic, I saw miracles. I’ll never forget seeing a woman practically turn in midair when she heard one of the sidewalk counselors say, “Mommy, I have help for you.” She ran into Heather’s arms crying, telling her how she didn’t want to abort her baby, how her parents had threatened to kick her out of the house if she didn’t do it, how she felt like she didn't have a choice. The fact that someone was willing to help her changed everything.

Another time, as I prayed the rosary one morning, I saw a young guy my age coming out of the clinic. By some grace of God, I could tell he wasn’t doing well. I didn’t know why, but I felt like I needed to run across the street, give him a hug and tell him it was going to be okay. I couldn’t, so I just started praying intensely for him, asking Mary to be a mother to him since he needed one so much right then. I thought maybe I was imagining things, but prayers couldn't hurt. I later found out I wasn't. A sidewalk counselor said he’d talked to the young man: his girlfriend was in that clinic and he wanted to keep the baby. His baby was about to die and there was nothing he could do about it. I can only trust that Our Lady was there for him because in a dark time like that, it seemed that no one else was.

Fordham Respect for Life praying for women and children!

God brought me to dark and messy situations, places that ordinarily I would have been afraid to be in. But He called me there to show me that His love has no bounds, that my love should have no bounds, that wherever He was suffering in the poor and unwanted, there He was calling me.

If the Bronx was outside my comfort zone, you can imagine what Calcutta was like.

To Calcutta with Mother Teresa

I had had a deep devotion to Mother Teresa for years. In my desperate search as a freshman in high school to understand who Christ was, I picked a book by Mother Teresa called No Greater Love. It challenged me deeply, made me rethink what it meant to live as a Catholic, and inspired me to want to love Christ and His poor with the depth of love Mother Teresa did. For a moment, I wanted nothing more than to join the Missionaries of Charity, to be radically poor like they were and to serve the poorest of the poor. But I couldn’t do that. I was a kid from Maine. People from Maine didn’t do great things like that.

So when I found out that Fordham had a Global Outreach trip to Calcutta to work with the Missionaries of Charity for two weeks, at first I thought it was too good to be true. For a moment I spun my wheels saying it was too expensive for me, but next to what I had considered spending on a semester abroad, it was a drop in the bucket. I applied. I got in. On New Year’s Day that January I was in New York City getting ready to fly out to Calcutta, India.

A cow in the Calcutta streets: after
a week without meat I could have eaten
this thing raw.

Once again, God had a lot of lessons and a lot of adventure in store for me. I thought having lived in the Bronx I knew what a rough city looked like. Calcutta was rough on a whole other level. People literally almost dragged me to the ground, hanging on my arm calling, “Uncle! Money!” Not only did you have to watch your pocket, you also had to watch where you stepped because you were liable to trip over someone sleeping on the sidewalk. And if you thought NYC traffic was bad, Calcutta traffic had no rules. My life flashed before my eyes just getting into one of those Tuk-Tuks.

God had lessons waiting for me here, but this time the lesson went a little deeper. God was still teaching me that His love had no bounds, that His light would shine in even the darkest places and that He was calling me to carry it there. But this time it became more personal: my response to His love should have no bounds. There should be no limits on what I was willing to give out of love.

Fordham volunteers lining up to serve lunch at Prem Dan

My limits were stretched. I may not have been fluent in Bronx, but I could get by. I knew nothing of Bengali. I didn’t know how to care for the people in front of me and my only means of finding out what they needed was sign language. Even that was tough, because since Indians eat with their hands, their signal for “Food!” looked to me like they needed to take their medicine...

Often caring for them meant looking past things that would normally turn my stomach. Rubbing lotion on residents doesn't sound like a big deal, but amputated limbs could get dry too. And helping the handicapped get to the bathroom was not a skill of mine, but when Sister was too busy they’d take anybody. They weren’t all comfortable situations, but with each failure I had to pick myself up, learn from it and keep giving.

Me and my friend Steve during chai break

I wasn’t a particularly capable volunteer when got there, all plump, healthy and happy from a restful Christmas break. When my health took a turn at the end of the two weeks, I really wasn’t capable. Jesus called me to work anyhow and asked me to offer it all up for the poor I worked with. As I hung up laundry, I worked through the pain and offered it up. As I rubbed lotion on patients, I offered my pain in solidarity with theirs. I worked until I couldn’t stay warm anymore. I waited until lunch and then I left to go back to the school where my cot was waiting for me.

Prem Dan

As the sickness grew worse, so too did Christ’s insistence that I offer up all that pain out of love. He asked me to offer it in exchange for the sufferings of the poor of Calcutta, in exchange for the spiritual struggles of the people I volunteered with, in order to alleviate the burden of people who needed it by voluntarily taking some of it onto myself. Through this I came to realize that giving all out of love meant accepting physical suffering no matter where it would lead. If it meant giving my life for love, then so be it: if it was out of love, the benefits it would gain for other people were all that mattered. It meant accepting spiritual desolation because at the time, Christ’s joy seemed absent: if it was out of love, I could live the rest of my life in that virtual hell, if only that pain were accepted in exchange for another person.

I let go of two things that I thought were fundamentally important to me and came to understand a depth of Christ’s love and His call for me that I had never before imagined. Not only was He calling me to go anywhere no matter how dark or desolate, He was calling me to give literally everything out of love for the souls in those places. I had to go to the other side of the world to learn that lesson, but God in His Providence made sure I did.

Thus ends my worldly adventure. More would follow. In fact I would circumnavigate the globe on pilgrimage before I entered the Jesuits, but that's a story for another time.