Lent Day Three--Prophesies of St. Malachy

Lenten Factoid

Buzzing around the internet and wriggling its fear-mongering text into the hearts of both Catholics and non-Catholics alike are the Prophesies of St. Malachy that say the next pope will be the last pope and after that....JUDGMENT DAY!

While it is certainly possible that the next pope could be the last pope, the Prophesies themselves are decidedly circumspect. The best scholars think they were written in the 15th century to influence a papal election because the are remarkably accurate up that era and then get much more vague. For instance, Benedict is called the "glory of the olive," and the Olivetans are affiliated with Benedictine Order.

For what theologians have to say about it, I suggest this link. 

Meditation

(This is from a book I'm working on on reflections throughout the church year.)

Friends of mine who are in 12-Step programs often talk about “working their program,” the key to their abstinence being to take life one day at a time, sometimes one moment at a time.

In many ways, the same approach is necessary as we seek to balance spirituality and work—day by day, minute by minute, living only in the present moment.

How to do this consistently is, of course, the big question. And it’s a question that is particularly relevant as we begin the Lenten season and the journey to Easter. I seem to achieve being present in the present best when I view all of my work as prayer. I don’t mean praying while working (rosary beads and keyboards seem to be mutually incompatible, at least with my fingers), but rather by considering my work itself as my prayer. In other words, to view everything I do in the workday, as an integral part of my prayer life.

When I think of work that way—as prayer—then no matter what I do, even if it’s boring, dull or unpleasant seems to increase my attention to detail and thus automatically increase the quality and care with which I work. It becomes, not a vicious circle, but a blessed one. As I strive to make my work into my prayer, my prayer becomes my work.

Prayer

O Christ Jesus.
When all is darkness and we feel our weakness
and helplessness, give us the sense of your presence,
Your love, and Your strength.
Help us to have perfect trust in 
Your protecting love and strengthening power,
so that nothing may frighten or worry us,
for living close to you. We shall see your Hand,
Your purpose, Your will through all  things.
Amen By St. Ignatius of Loyola, 1491-1556

Grace Under Adversity

A reflection from my book Facing Adversity with Grace which will be coming out June 1.

When I began writing this book, I was looking for answers to some of my own deepest questions. It’s often that way with my writing. I am seeking as much to learn as to teach; to explore as much as to explain. Many times I find that when I reach the end of a book I have answered the questions I posed to myself at the beginning—in this case “Why do we have to suffer?” “What’s the point of suffering?” “Does God want us to suffer?” I wish I could say that I found all the answers I was seeking, but as I finish writing about saints and how they coped with their suffering, I still find myself, despite myself, wondering why we have to suffer at all....

On the one hand, I know intellectually that uniting my suffering with that of Christ has a salvific effect on creation and I accept that. In the Spiritual Exercises, St. Ignatius of Loyola explains that “Jesus says ‘I want to overcome all diseases, all poverty, all ignorance, all oppression and slavery – in short all the evils which beset humankind.’” Since he said he came to bring abundant life, that has to be true. However, it is only through us and our work that this can be accomplished. If you believe, as I do, that we must be the transformation we hope to affect, then Colossians 1:24[1], which John Paul quotes at the beginning of Salvifici Doloris, has profound implications. As I said in the first chapter, I trust it is up to us to renew the earth and transform humanity. As I understand it, when we cooperate with the Divine in our suffering, we are transformed (hopefully for the better!) and through our transformation, we become a means of change for others as well. In becoming a new creation, we open the way to creating a new heaven and new earth. In the end, if we don’t do it, no one will.

Now I really do believe this, and when I’m feeling spiritually magnanimous I ponder such things (and even write about them), but when I’m really hurting, with the kind of pain that penetrates body and soul, all I want is for the pain to go away—sooner rather than later.

That’s why I was so moved by Pope Benedict XVI’s response to the young Japanese girl that I referenced in the first chapter. Her question was simple—Why do I have to suffer? The Pope didn’t respond with a complicated treatise on the historical roots of suffering or how it relates to salvation. He didn’t quote Scripture or even his predecessor. He simply said:

I also have the same questions: why is it this way? Why do you have to suffer so much while others live in ease? And we do not have the answers but we know that Jesus suffered as you do, an innocent, and that the true God who is revealed in Jesus is by your side. This seems very important to me, even if we do not have answers, even if we are still sad…”[2]

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[1] I am now rejoicing in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am completing what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church.”

[2] http://www.catholicnewsagency.com/news/in-historic-tv-qa-pope-benedict-speaks-about-suffering-comatose-persons-persecution/