Tag Archive for: catholic writing

A Gangbanger’s Journey to Sainthood: Meet Peter Armengol

A Gangbanger’s Journey to Sainthood: Meet Peter Armengol

 

Please turn on your imagination

Imagine being a dad with a teenage son who has seemingly turned his back on you. He has rejected the values you have worked so hard to instill in him, and he does not seem to care about anything but his own selfish wants. You wonder how this could be. He is 19 years old, and you have not seen him in over a year. A sense of despair has gripped you. You are alone in your living room. You fall to your knees and begin to pray for your boy.

Besides your wife and 14-year-old daughter, you have other things on your mind. You are a respected police chief in a city of two million people where a major political convention will take place in two days. You have been asked by the police commissioner to coordinate the security forces on the convention center’s perimeter. You have a job to do, and right now, it takes precedence over other things.

At 6 p.m. on the convention’s first night, protesters begin gathering on the center’s east side. You can see that they are well-organized and plan to create mayhem. At 9 p.m., the crowd numbers several thousand, and the screaming and yelling is getting intense. Suddenly the crowd, urged on by several masked protesters, surges forward and then breaks into a charge.

 

One man stops and falls to his knees

Dressed in riot gear, you are standing at the forefront of your men, and in your hand is a taser. One man is charging right at you when suddenly he stops short, falls to his knees, and drops his hands to his sides. You hurry up to him and yank off his mask. You are stunned because you are looking down at your son. He is crying and telling you he is sorry. You lift him up and you hug each other. The surging crowd, witnessing this unexpected turn of events, stops and becomes quiet.

 

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Dial your imagination back in time

Does that sound far-fetched? If so, let us now travel back more than 700 years to a day when something like this really did happen. Even though it may be 700 years ago, people then were like people now when it comes to their wants, needs, and emotions. It especially held true when it came to family.

Arnold Armengol was a member of the Spanish hierarchy. Despite receiving the finest education and upbringing, his son, Peter, rejected that and fell into the secular trap of self-centeredness, self-gratification, and outright depravity. He even joined a band of criminals that preyed on people traveling up the mountains. Peter was so good at this work that he eventually became the gang leader.

King James of Aragon asked Arnold to lead him on a journey to Montpellier so he might meet with the King of France. The King had heard of the brigands that preyed on mountain travelers and wanted his royal guard prepared for any attack.

 

The crime was punishable by death

As Arnold Armengol led the King’s entourage through the mountain passes, they were attacked by a band of highwaymen. As the robbers charged toward them, Armengol led his men in a counter-attack. With his sword drawn, he headed directly for the pack’s leader. They were about to engage each other when the robber fell to his knees. He recognized his father and, with tears streaming down his face, prostrated himself at his dad’s feet and handed over his sword. The penalty for his crimes was death.

Peter Armengol, repentant and seeking mercy, appealed to King James I and received a pardon. He was filled with shame and, heeding the graces God offered him, entered a Mercedarian Monastery in Barcelona. The Mercedarian’s mission was to use available funds to ransom Catholics captured by the Muslims. Peter excelled at this task and, over a period of eight years, managed to negotiate the freedom of many hostages from the Saracens.

 

From gang leader to Mercedarian friar

Friar Peter then headed to Africa with Friar William Florentino. His goal was to ransom Christians. On arrival in Bugia, he heard about 18 Christian children held hostage by the Mohammedans. They were under the threat of death if they did not renounce Christianity. Friar Peter offered himself in exchange for the hostages. The captors agreed but warned Peter that he would suffer brutal torture and death if the ransom were not paid on time.

 

Sentenced to be hanged

The arrival of the agreed ransom and Friar Peter’s release was scheduled for a particular day. The ransom never arrived. Peter was immediately put to torture and endured this for a full day. Tired of Friar Peter being alive, the Moors accused him of blaspheming Mohammad. He was sentenced to be hanged.

Friar Peter was hanged from a tree about a half-mile from the prison walls. His body was left there for the birds of prey to feed on. Six days later, Friar William arrived with the ransom. The Moors refused it and told Friar William that Peter had already been dead for six days and his rotted corpse was still hanging from the tree. Distraught, William went to recover his brother Mercedarian’s body.

 

The dead man began to speak

William left and headed to the execution site. As he approached, he noticed that Peter’s body seemed to be intact. There was also the fragrance of flowers in the air. William slowly approached the body of Peter. The man who was supposedly dead for six days began to speak. He explained how the Blessed Virgin had come to him and held him up with her precious hands the entire time so his body would not hang on the rope.

 

The HAPPIEST six days of his life

When recalling the miracle of his hanging, Peter Armengol told his Mercedarian brothers that the happiest days of his life were those six days he hung from the gallows supported by the Blessed Virgin Mary. Peter’s neck, broken from the hanging, remained twisted for the rest of his life, and he always had a sickly complexion. Seven documented miracles were attributed to him while he was still alive.

Peter was 28 years old when he was hanged. He died in 1304 at the age of 66, having lived 38 years after being saved by the Blessed Virgin Mary from death by execution. Pope Innocent XI canonized Peter Armengol on April 8, 1687.

We ask Saint Peter Armengol, O. de M. to pray for us all.


Copyright©Larry Peterson 2023
Image: Pexels

 

Love vs. Hatred—And the Winner Is?

Love vs. Hatred—And the Winner Is?

 

There are two kinds of pride: negative pride and positive pride. This essay references negative pride, also known as “selfishness” or “meism.” Positive pride is the pride we take in working hard to do our best while loving our neighbor.

Enter the deadly sin of pride.

Love is all about giving, isn’t it?  Christ loved us and GAVE His life for us. “No greater love is there than to lay down your life for a friend.” Now that is some serious giving. Most followers of Christ do their feeble best to follow His message. But: enter the deadly sin of pride. That demon can grab us in its powerful grip and, frequently, never let go. The great sin of pride is characterized by all those whose persona reflects words such as stuck-up, egotistic, aloof, cocky, dismissive, superior, or pretentious. The list can go on and on and on. It can be summed up by the phrase, “loving oneself more than anyone or anything else.”

Today it seems that pride has filled the hearts of many to a point where people, so consumed, now HATE unconditionally. What many of them hate most is one word and what it means. That word is made up of only two letters. That word is NO. They want no one to dare tell them what to do or how to behave. They have embraced secularism (defined as a system of political or social philosophy that rejects all forms of religious faith and worship). 

 

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Pride can destroy so much

How sad it is that pride can destroy so much, from family relationships to friendships to nations. Many people, when their “personhood” is offended by someone else, will instantly reject any love within them in exchange for a blast of using four-letter vitriol to express themselves. And that may be the precursor of an actual physical attack against their newfound enemy. The love they may have had vanished instantly. Was it even there to begin with?

Feigned love can vanish like a puff of smoke in a windstorm. Have you seen the “love” extended by political candidates toward each other? Have you noticed how it seems to come from those who have fallen in love with themselves over all else? Part of God’s gift of free will is allowing each and every one of us to make choices. Some of us can forgive and turn the other cheek. Others—no way.

 

They even reject natural  law

Here is their problem: the Judeo/Catholic/Christian belief system has boundaries. Christianity tells us what God wants us to do and what NOT to do … why, the NERVE of Him! So, many secularists (not all) take it to another level in their selfish requests to abolish the influence of religions that have the audacity to say NO to certain behaviors. They even reject natural law in favor of their own personal agendas.

Catholics and other Christians are the most persecuted people on earth. Why is that?  Why is there such hatred by so many toward something that is all about goodness and love? All Christians (including 1.2 billion Catholics and 800 million Protestants of varied denominations) follow Jesus Christ. That is 2 billion people (or two thousand million) who follow His teachings and His promise of Eternal Life. What is the crux of His teachings? Well, now, the bottom line is this: loving your neighbor, and forgiveness. Yeah, I know that many who proclaim to follow Jesus do not even attempt to Love their neighbor or forgive anyone for anything. How powerful is the sin of pride?

 

How can love and lorgiveness be things to hate?

The prideful rant against Christmas, which is all about giving. They rail on about using the name of God in schools and at sporting events. They want crosses at cemeteries taken down from the graves of fallen soldiers. In many cases, those who hate Christians kill them. Men, women, and children die every day in different parts of the world simply because they are followers of Jesus. How can love and forgiveness be things to hate? How powerful is the sin of pride?

 

Has anything changed?

Nothing has changed since Jesus walked the earth two thousand years ago. He preached Love & Forgiveness , so they beat Him, tortured Him, and killed Him. The loving crowds who screamed “Hosanna” on Palm Sunday turned fickle and screamed “Crucify Him” the following Friday. The list of people murdered for following Jesus over the centuries (including His own apostles) is countless. Being a Catholic and Christian was never supposed to be easy. Jesus Christ did nothing but love us, each and every one of us. Look what happened to Him. How powerful is the sin of pride?

 

Read the First Letter of John

So, during the trek toward Election Day 2024, the question to be considered might be this. What is love? The answer can be found in the Bible in the First Letter of John:

We have come to know and believe in the love God has for us. God is love, and whoever remains in love remains in God and God in Him. (1 John 4:16)

 Sadly, the war on Love increases in intensity.

 


©Larry Peterson2023 All Rights Reserved
Image: Pexels

He Loved God, Family, and Country

Joseph Verbis Lafleur was born in Villa Platte, Louisiana, on January 24, 1912. He was the fourth child born to Agatha Dupre and Valentine Lafleur. When Joe was a young boy, he began telling his mom that he would grow up and be a priest. He was so sure of his calling that he became an altar boy at the age of seven.

“I want to be a priest. Can you help me?”

During the early 1920s, the family came upon hard times and were forced to move to Opelousas, about 20 miles from Ville Platte. Their new parish would be St. Landry Catholic Church. The pastor was Father A. B. Colliard. The priest quickly sensed something special about young Joe and paid close attention to him. When Joe was 14, he nervously approached Father Colliard and said to him, “Father, I want to become a priest. Can you help me?”

Father Colliard happily agreed to help young Joseph. First, he met with Joe and his mom. After receiving her approval, the priest made arrangements for her son to enter St. Joseph’s Minor Seminary in St. Benedict. From there, Joe moved on to attend Notre Dame Major Seminary in New Orleans.

Joseph Lafleur never doubted for a moment his calling to serve as a priest. He received the Sacrament of Holy Orders from Archbishop Joseph Rummel of New Orleans. On April 5, 1938, Father Lafleur celebrated his first Solemn High Mass at St. Landry’s, his home parish. He was then assigned to St. Mary Magdalene Catholic Church in Abbeville as an assistant pastor.

Army Air Corps Chaplain

While still an assistant pastor at St. Mary Magdalene Church, he joined the Army Air Corps. The year was 1941, and the United States was months away from the attack on Pearl Harbor.

In July of 1941, Father Lafleur was sent to Albuquerque, New Mexico. His unit was the 19th Bombardment Group. Four months later, the 19th arrived at Clark Field in the Philippines, about 60 miles from Manila. Father Joe had told his mom before leaving that he “volunteered because all those other men being drafted had no choice.”

Just as it was at St. Mary Magdalene’s parish, Father Joe went about trying to organize activities for the men on base. He would organize baseball games for the men who wanted to play baseball. He wanted to start a Holy Name Society for the men. He organized discussion groups so the guys could share their feelings of loneliness being away from home and family. His mind was always focused on helping the men, mentally and spiritually. He wrote his sister, Edna, that “once I get back to Louisiana, I will never leave again. But I am not sorry I came here.”

Last Letter Home

That was the last letter the family ever received from him. On December 7, Pearl Harbor was attacked. Clark Field in the Philippines was struck shortly after. Life was forever changed for Father Joseph Lafleur and many others on December 8, 1941. In May of 1942, the Japanese conquered Mindanao, and the last of the American soldiers on the island were taken prisoner. Among them was Father Joseph Lafleur.

POW

From May of 1942 until September of 1944, Father Joe never ceased ministering to his fellow POWs. He contracted malaria several times and refused medicine because he believed others needed it more than he did. He sold his watch and eyeglasses to the locals to procure more food for his brother prisoners. He even managed to build a small chapel, called St. Peter in Chains, where Catholic and non-Catholics alike could attend daily Mass. The ongoing, upbeat love and care he showed others influenced many.

A POW named Bill Lowe had abandoned his Baptist faith. He watched how Father Joe never gave in and never despaired. He was always upbeat, loving Jesus, and doing his best to spread the Good News. When Lowe returned home, he became Catholic, and his son grew up to become a Catholic priest and Air Force chaplain. Lowe reported that many became Catholic because of Father Joe’s example.

He gave his own life to save 83 men

On September 7, 1944, while being transported on a Japanese ship to Japan with 750 other Americans, the ship was struck by torpedoes fired by an American submarine. The sub’s captain and crew had no idea Americans were on board. Father Joe could have gotten off, but refused until as many were saved as possible. He was credited with saving at least 83 men by helping them get out and swim to shore.

Father Joseph Verbis Lafleur leaves behind an unbridled legacy of love and compassion for others, including the Catholic faith he loved so much. He was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross (twice), the Bronze Star, and the Purple Heart.

On September 5, 2020, he was declared a Servant of God when Bishop John Douglas Deshotel opened his cause for beatification in the Diocese of Lafayette (Louisiana).


Copyright © Larry Peterson 2021

Heroic Virtue during the 1995 Ebola Outbreak

By Larry Peterson

Six religious sisters willingly gave their lives during the 1995 Ebola outbreak. Pope Francis issued declarations of Heroic Virtue for three of the sisters on February 20 and another on March 21 for three others. This decree means they are now called “Venerable.”

All of the sisters belonged to the Sisters of the Poor, which should not be confused with the Little Sisters of the Poor, who were founded by St. Jeanne Jugan in 1839. The Sisters of the Poor Palazzolo Institute was founded in Bergamo, Italy, in 1869, by Blessed Luigi Maria Palazzolo. Pontifical recognition was given to the order in 1912. Members of the Order take vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience. They dedicate their lives in service to the poor and orphaned children. Most are experienced nurses. The sisters serve in some of the world’s most deprived areas, such as Congo, Ivory Coast, and Kenya.

The Sisters of the Poor began their service outside of Italy after World War II. They first ministered in China, but that was put on hold after the Communist revolution. They then turned their attention to Africa and, in 1951, went to what was then the Belgian Congo (since then, it has been known as Zaire, and today it is the Democratic Republic of the Congo). Today the Sister of the Poor, Palazzolo Institute, has houses in Peru, Switzerland, Brazil, Italy, the Republic of the Congo, Ivory Coast, Malawi, and Kenya. The motherhouse is in Bergamo, Italy, and close to one thousand sisters serve in 103 communities.

The sisters managed to build a hospital in Kikwit. By 1995 it had grown to have a main building with eleven pavilions. They treated all types of diseases and had 450 beds. The demand was so great that most of the time, patients had to sleep two or sometimes three to a bed. The sisters from Italy were located in Kikwit before the epidemic struck. More than 400 workers and eight doctors made up the staff.

These six religious sisters were present in the Congo during the Ebola epidemic and died while assisting the sick.

Sister Floralba Rondi was the chief nurse in the operating room at the main hospital. She had been in the country since 1952, a period of more than 43 years. She was born in Pedrengo, Italy, on December 10, 1924. She had professed her final vows many years earlier. Sister Floralba had returned to Kikwit in 1994 after working in Kinshasha for six years treating leprosy patients. As the Ebola virus took hold of her, she thought she was coming down with typhoid. She planned to return to Mosang to get back to work with the leprosy patients. Then the classic Ebola symptoms took hold. She died on April 28, 1995. She was 71.

Alessandra Ghilardi, another member of the Sisters of the Poor, was born in Bergamo, Italy, on April 21, 1931. On September 8, 1952, the birthday of the Blessed Mother, she accepted her religious habit and took the name, Sister Clarangela. She was sent to the Belgian Congo in 1959. Trained in obstetrics, she worked her entire ministry in Kikwit, Mossango, and the Tumikia Missions. Sister had spent the last 30 years of her life in Zaire (the Democratic Republic of the Congo). On April 29, 1995, she fell ill. They thought she had a hemorrhagic fever. She died on May 6. Two days later, they discovered it was from Ebola.

Dinarosa Belleri; Born as Teresina, she entered the Sisters of the Poor of the Palazzolo Institute when she was 21 years old. Her first assignment was at a marine hospital in Cagliari. For the next seventeen years, she served in the Mosango Hospital Center. In 1983, she was transferred to Kikwit, where she cared for lepers, tuberculosis victims, and every other illness or injury imaginable. As the Ebola virus took hold of her,  Sister Dinarosa remained in her post. She was determined that she was supposed to be there, just as Blessed Luigi Maria Palazzolo had taught. She worked until it was impossible to stand. She died from Ebola on May 14, 1995.

Celeste Ossoli knew from an early age that she wanted to serve God. She had confided to her mother about her vocation.  Her Mom helped her keep the ‘secret.’ They both knew that Celeste’s father would disapprove. When Celeste turned seventeen, she told her father she wanted to become a nun. Her father got angry and slapped her so hard that her tooth was knocked out, and she fell to the ground. After a time, he relented and gave his daughter his permission. She joined the Sisters of the Poor on October 5, 1953. From then on, she was known as Sister Annalvira. She took her vows at the age of 20 and was sent to the Belgian Congo on November 1, 1961. Sister suffered from pulmonary tuberculosis. She fought hard to recover and managed to get into obstetrics school in Rome. She finished and returned to Africa. She worked in the Congo and delivered thirty to forty babies a day. She was honored with a nickname: the “woman of life.”

Sister Annalvira became the Provincial Superior of Africa. The position required her to travel many places to visit the missionary communities. When Ebola struck,  her dear friend, Sister Floralba, was stricken. Sister Annalvira immediately traveled by Jeep over 500 kilometers to be with her. Sister Floralba died on April 28, 1995. Sister Annalvira, unable to escape the clutches of Ebola, died on May 23, 1995.

Maria Rosa Zorza was born in Palosco, Italy, on October 9, 1943. She was the youngest of seven children, and her mom died when she was only two. She was raised by her maternal grandmother. Maria felt called by God at an early age and entered the Congregation of the Sisters of the Poor on September 1, 1966. She took the name of Sister Vitarosa. She was sent to Milan, where she studied to be a nurse specializing in geriatrics. However,  her deepest wishes were to help take care of the poor children in Africa. She never stopped trying, and finally, on October 20, 1982, she was sent to Kikwit to work in the civil hospital.

When Ebola hit, Sister Vitarosa did not seem sick like the others. She was hurrying about doing her best to help the suffering. Asked if she was afraid, she answered, “Afraid of what?” Then she would sing a song in the language of Kinshasa, “If in the church Jesus Christ calls you, accept to serve Him with all your heart.” Sister Vitarosa Zorsa fought the good fight but died from Ebola on May 28, 1995.

Anna Sorti was born on June 15, 1947, in Bergamo, Italy. She was the youngest of thirteen children, of whom only seven survived. Her mom and dad died a year apart in 1956 and 1957. The losses caused her much grief, and she fell away from the faith. She began to get in trouble as a teenager, but then she took charge of her life due to the influence of the Sisters of the Poor. At the age of nineteen, Anna entered the convent. She took the name of Sister Danielangela and took her temporary vows on September 29, 1968. She professed her perpetual vows in 1974. She was then sent to Milan to study nursing. 

Sister Danielangela often thought that she might have a short life.  In a letter she wrote on March 23, 1995, she said, “Time passes quickly for everyone, and we must be prepared because we do not know the hour o the day when the Lord can call us.” She finished the same letter by writing, “Stay in joy because love asks for love.” Sister was working in Tumikia but volunteered to go to Mosango the help with the sick there. She contracted Ebola her first night and  was transferred to Kikwit. She died there on May 11, 1995. She was one month shy of her 48th birthday.

We ask Venerables Floralba Rondi, Clarangela Ghilardi, Dinarosa Belleri, Annalvira Ossoli, Vitaros Zorsa, and Danielangela Sorti to pray for us all.


Copyright 2021 Larry Peterson

To Her Husband, the Only Thing that Mattered was the Arrival of the Priest

By Larry Peterson

Lee and Shirley Mae had moved from Pittsburgh, PA, to Pinellas Park, FL, back in 1984. Lee, a World War II veteran who served in the South Pacific during the war, had met Shirley Mae at the Greater Pittsburgh Airport years before. Lee, a widower, worked for United Airlines. Shirley, who had never married, was a waitress at the airport restaurant. They fell in love and got married. A few years after Lee retired from United, they headed south, settling on the Florida west coast near St. Petersburg.

They purchased a two-bedroom home in a 55+ community called Mainlands of Tamarac. They immediately joined the local Catholic parish, Sacred Heart Church. It was perfect for the happy couple, and they quickly became involved in church ministry. They both volunteered as ushers, and Lee became an Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion. They also worked together every year during the annual Fall Festival, coordinating all the food court workers.

It was sometime in January of 2020 that Shirley began feeling “not right.” She was having a bit of trouble breathing, had a slight cough, and was experiencing fatigue. Lee and Shirley knew it was time to see the doctor, and they did. Doctors told her she had lung cancer.

Treatments with oral medications began in February. The pandemic resulted in a change of lifestyle, and Lee and Shirley adapted the best they could. They did not dare venture outside their home, and food and supplies were delivered and placed near the front door. Days turned to months, and Shirley’s health kept slipping downward.

Lee, who is a vibrant 96-year-old, could no longer care for his wife by himself. Sometime in early September, Hospice arrived on the scene.  Towards the end of September, a hospital bed was placed in the family room. Shirley was no longer able to sit up or eat by herself. Hospice workers were now coming in several times a day.

Hospice wanted to move Shirley to the hospice center. Lee was horrified at the prospect. He told the nurse in charge, “My wife and I promised each other we would never let any one take either of us to any kind of home. She must stay here with me. Please, please, do that for me?” Hospice, realizing Shirley’s time was not far away, agreed.

Lee and Shirley are devout Catholics who attended Mass every day. They are also neighbors and close friends of mine. I became personally involved in helping them early in summer. Nothing was more important to them than my bringing Jesus in the Eucharist, especially on Sunday.

The end of September and the beginning of October seemed to blend together. About 5 P.M. on October 8, my phone rang. Brenda, a close friend of Lee and Shirley’s, was calling to say that Shirley had passed a few minutes earlier. I had promised Lee that no matter what time of day or night it was, a priest would come to pray over Shirley when she passed. I immediately called the church.

The church has a phone menu, and if you press #8, you got the emergency line to the priest. I left a message, and I headed over to Lee’s house. Shirley was lying halfway on her side. Her head was bowed down a bit, and her eyes were half-open. She had a simple smile on her face. I was transfixed at how peacefully beautiful she appeared. I called the church again. Then I gathered those willing around Shirley’s bed, and we said a Chaplet of Divine Mercy for her.

Upon finishing the Chaplet, I called the church a third time. As I hung up the phone, it rang. It was Father Kevin, our pastor. He was out in Tampa at a convocation with priests and the bishop. Father Vijay, our other priest, was with him. They were was almost an hour away. The problem was the funeral home van was on the way to pick up Shirley. I was told they could not wait for the priest.

It is interesting how things can work out. Nothing was more important to Lee at that moment than the priest being there to pray over Shirley. Father Kevin said he could leave right away and, if traffic was light, he could make it in 45 minutes. I said, “Okay, father. Thanks.”

Fifteen minutes later, the funeral van pulled up. Father Kevin was at least a half-hour away. One of the hospice nurses came over to me and told me that they had another stop to make and could not wait. It was time to get bold.

I walked over to the van driver and told him the situation. The guy told me he was sorry, but he could not wait for more than fifteen minutes. I told him very nicely that “the only way anyone gets near that woman  before the priest does is over my dead body.”

The guy smiled and said, “Okay, okay, I get it. I understand.”

Father Kevin arrived within the 45-minute time frame. We all gathered around, and calmness filled the room as Father prayed over Shirley and blessed her. Lee stood next to him, holding his wife’s lifeless hand, tears coming from his eyes. As Shirley was removed from the house, Lee stopped by the gurney and held her hand one last time.  Sobbing softly, he bent down and kissed her goodbye. She was still smiling.

Her funeral is scheduled for October 31, Halloween. Ironically, wearing masks will be appropriate.

copyright©LarryPeterson 2020

Pope St. Stephen I—He defined the Sacrament of Baptism and it Stands to this Day

If we could travel back in time to the middle of the third century we would quickly discover the Catholic Church, although quite different from today, had many similarities to our modern-day Church. There was plenty of hierarchical infighting going on and the politics of leading the Church was in flux.

In 250 AD, the Roman emperor Decius, unhappy as to how Christianity was spreading, embarked on a persecution of the Christians that, until that time, was the most brutal they had ever faced. Among the first to die was Pope Fabian, the sixteenth pope, who had held the papacy for fourteen years.

When Fabian died, he was followed by Pope Cornelius, who died within a year. He was followed by Pope Lucius I, who also died within a year. Both of these men died of natural causes. The Church was then without a pope and was run by a collective, under the direction of a priest named Novatian.

Emperor Decius demanded that all Christians offer sacrifice to the Roman gods to show their loyalty to Rome. Any who refused were executed. Others fled into the countryside or tried to bribe officials. The last recourse was to reject the Faith. Many took this route. It was an easier path than giving up one’s life.

After Fabian’s murder, a huge pastoral problem arose. Emperor Decius’ persecution had seen many Christians purchase certificates attesting to the fact that they had made the required sacrifices to the Roman Gods. Other had denied that they were Christians, while still others took part in pagan sacrifices.

These people were called “lapsi.” The question within the still-fledgling Church was whether, if they repented for their sins, they could be readmitted to full communion with the Church. If they could, what would be the conditions? Novatian was preaching the false doctrine that those people who were “lapsi” could not be forgiven while the Catholic position was to grant full communion to those who fully repented.

Novatian and his followers would only grant fellowship to the sinners, not full communion. Novatian went even further and said that those who had denied the Faith and worshipped idols could not be forgiven, as the Church did not have the power to do so. He said that being baptized does not administer forgiveness for certain heinous sins.

Pope Lucius had appointed his archdeacon, Stephen, as his successor (this was way before the College of Cardinals) and Pope Stephen I was faced with the task of reuniting the Church from the schism started by Novatian. He began his papacy in the year 254.

Stephen’s most important battle was his defense of the Sacrament of Baptism. The Novatianist priests were re-baptizing those who sought forgiveness. Stephen insisted that re-baptizing a previously baptized person was unnecessary. He argued that only absolution was required to regain full communion with the church. Cyprian of Carthage and other African and Asian bishops called what the Novationists were doing as heretical.

Stephen, who had the support of Cyprian and other bishops, was pressured from others within the Church to be flexible and allow re-baptism for the Novatianist priests. Stephen would not waver and stayed true to his conviction. Even Cyprian changed his mind and disagreed loudly, claiming that baptism administered by heretics was invalid. All those people who had received this sacrament would need to be re-baptized.

But Stephen was the Bishop of Rome. The unwavering defense of his position on Baptism more than likely established Rome as the seat of the Church. He claimed that he was occupying the seat of Peter as handed down by Christ. Stephen is recognized as the first pope to formally announce the primacy of Rome. He also decreed that baptism, if administered by anyone with the right intent, is valid. That practice stands today, 1800 years later.

Stephen died in 257 and his Feast Day is August 2. He is honored as a saint in both the Catholic Church and the Eastern Orthodox Church.

St. Stephen I, pray for us.

Copyright 2018 Larry Peterson

When You Think You Think You Have Nothing to Give, Bring Your Drum…

At least that is what a young boy did thousands of years ago when he wanted to honor a new king. You probably can hear the drum beating as he asks “Shall I play for you? On my drum?”  You know the rest. tribal-1215118_1920

Most of my life, I’ve felt I had nothing worthy to put at the feet of the King of the Universe.  Instead, I often ran away from him. But in his wisdom and love, he carried me to the point where I am today.

It was in my parish family during a small group retreat by Father Michael Gaitley, the study on “Consoling the Heart of Jesus” gave me a whole new insight into the love and longing Jesus has for us. Early in the book, Father Gaitley shares a simple message he perceived from Jesus:

“All I want is for you to be my friend. All I want is for you not to be afraid of me and to come to me.” (Page 71)

Loving and Consoling Jesus through His Living Body the Church

 I found great joy in meeting with like-minded souls to talk about our growing love for Jesus and the resulting desire to put faith into action.  It was nothing short of miraculous. God bears his light to us, first through his son and then through others.

They come heeding the call of the Holy Spirit to be in the right place at the right time. We all know people who are beacons – radiating goodness, kindness, love and action. Sometimes, we are the steadying signal, but I never forget who is at the origin.

Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe;  Hebrews 12:28 

Jesus is the burning heart, the center of this wonderful body of Christ and in loving others, we love him.  In consoling others, we console him. We truly are branches nourished by his living vine.

Bringing Our Drums

heart-2862156_1920So we come back to the little shepherd boy. I hear his drums, “pa rum pa pum pum” a physical declaration of his heart beating with love for the king, a testimony to all that is required of us–offering our own hearts without reserve.

I once thought I had nothing to give, but I was wrong.  Jesus smiled at the drummer boy and his gift while Mary nodded and the ox and lamb kept time. I am certain he smiles at each of us too; we just need to bring him our drum.

 

What Christmas songs stir your heart?  Bring loving memories to mind?  Feel free to share in the comments section.

The Gift of Red

2008-11-16 021Advent and Christmas were always bright and happy times in my childhood home.  While focus was on preparing for the coming of Christ, mixed in with that anticipation was the fun of decorating.  Red was everywhere and in every room.  My mother made sure our home reflected the joy heralded by the angels of peace on earth and goodwill to all men, with the manger scene a focal point.  We had red plaid table cloths in the dining room and playful elves hanging from every conceivable perch. I came to love the significance of all these bright red and green decorating traditions.

Several years ago, a cardinal perched outside my window one morning. He was a magnificent contrast against the small oak tree in my backyard, and reminded me of my father who faithfully put out black sunflower seeds (the best kind) for the cardinals gracing our home. My mother has kept a stained-glass cardinal on her bedroom window along with a myriad of colored-glass crucifixes, chalices, and other professions of her enduring faith.  She believes that my dad, long gone, signals to her when the cardinals come and visit.

So, my mind wandered the trail of how much the color red permeates our world and how God created so many variations for our delight.  Do you know how many names there are for this color called red?  I didn’t, and so I looked it up and daydreamed about the marvelous range of reds in existence.  But it was the deep scarlet of the cardinal that led me on a path to remember our Savior, not at His birth but at His redemptive sacrifice – and through my father – His teachings from the Sermon on the Mount.  At the end of the trail, one thing was crystal clear to me, one realization that I needed at the time; Jesus loves me , all of us, beyond our imagining, beyond all else in this created world.  I marvel at God’s wisdom in creating a small bird with such power to move the human heart, to lift our spirits toward heaven, and to give me memories of my devout parents.

The following poem was born from the gift of red given to me through inspiring parents.  What memories bring  warmth and comfort to you?  Feel free to share special holiday memories or traditions.

Cardinal Red

More than poinsettias and red curly-ribboned Christmas gifts,
more than glossy lacquered lines of red candy apples in the window,
more than clumsy Crayola-red shapes on a toddler’s first piece of art,
more than sumptuous strawberry-red berries begging to be tasted,
more than the competent clarity of fire engine reds racing to rescue,
the deep scarlet cardinal captures me
in the fleeting seconds of his landing,
in the sound of his song,
in the almost imperceptible rising and falling of his splendid chest.
He breathes life and bleeds red,
as red as the drops of blood2008-11-16 022
falling from our Savior’s wounds
and causes me to remember my father
quoting Matthew 6:26 from his red Douay-Rheims
“ Behold the birds of the air, for they neither sow,
nor do they reap, nor gather into barns;
and your heavenly Father feedeth them.
Are not you of much more value than they?”
In this cardinal red moment,
the two hundred and eighty four other shades
referenced in books
cannot compare.

 

 

Planets, Dr. Seuss and Snowflakes—Combined Proof That There is a CREATOR

Ten  years ago, NASA’s new, Horizon Spacecraft left our humble, little planet and began its voyage to to the edges of our solar system and beyond. After traveling 3 billion-plus miles, New Horizon finally passed Pluto, the furthest planet from our sun. I don’t know about you but I find it so humbling and awe inspiring that we human beings, using the perfection that surrounds us, can mange to find a planet that is so far away. Yet, within our universe, it would be as close as a neighbor down the street.

How can we possibly know how to measure distance and location and density and climate relating to places that are so unimaginably far away? The speed of light is 186,000 miles per second. Who figured that out? How do you measure the speed of light? Assuming the number is correct, that means in one minute light travels 11+ million miles. That would be almost 16 billion miles in one day. Multiply that number by four and a half years. Do you see where I’m going with this? The light from our own sun takes eight minutes to reach Earth. Now scientists have found an “exoplanet” which is more than  a thousand light years away and they have figured out that  it revolves around its sun in 385 days vs our 365 days. WHEW!

Let’s move past Pluto. It seems NASA’s Kepler Space Telescope, launched in 2009,  found this exoplanet; they named it Kepler 452b.  This exoplanet could be similar to our hometown, Earth. “Hello sister planet, Kepler 452b.” The Kepler Telescope has identified close to 5000 exoplanets since it started scanning the deepest parts of space. But this is the first one that could be just like Earth. Now, get this–it is one thousand and four light years away. Our closest star system is Alpha Centauri, a mere 4.3 light years away. That means our closest star system is trillions of miles from our solar system and would take us tens of thousands of years to get there. Kepler 452b is 200 times further than that. My question is–how can  we know these things?

By NASA/Ames/JPL-Caltech [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

By NASA/Ames/JPL-Caltech [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

What about Earth? Think of some of the things that Earth does without us thinking about them. Here is one example; we never think about TIME but without its never ending accuracy we would have chaos. There are 24 hours in a day. Not 25 or 23 or 24.8, but 24. What if there were a random number of hours in a day? Imagine the possibilities? So how did we get 24 hours in a day? One word can answer that question, “perfection.”

What about explosions? (Please bear with me–I do intend to make a point.) Explosions are destructive and, for the most part, maim, kill and destroy. Last Fourth of July a guy in Maine, in a festive frame of mind, brilliantly set a rocket off from the top of his head. He died instantly. Jason Pierre Paul, the all-pro defensive star for the NFL’s N.Y. Giants, blew several fingers off his hand with fireworks. C. J. Wilson, of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, retired because he blew several fingers of his hand with fireworks. We can go back 70 years and remember that on August 6, 1945, the atomic bomb blew the Japanese city of Hiroshima to smithereens. It also killed about 80,000 people. It follows that if I set a bomb off in my car the chances of the result being a nicer car are–well, ZERO.

So now–to the point. The Big Bang Theory of Creation has become the favored explanation of how our seemingly infinite universe came into existence. Scientists do agree that the universe did, in fact, have a beginning. They also know that the universe is expanding and changing and dying, just like we do. To the question: At the moment of creation when the unimaginable explosion took place or whether it was something like a giant balloon expanding and expanding until it “popped” spewing matter outwards, it all had to be controlled. Who did that?

Random explosions do not and cannot result in perfection. Twenty-four hours in a day is perfect for us imperfect species to depend on, including the animals.  It is a contradiction to believe otherwise. Perfection surrounds us. We can predict the rising and setting of the sun to the second, the new and full moons to the minute. We know when the tides rise and fall and can predict their lowest and highest points to the minute. We know when an eclipse, whether solar or lunar will occur and where. We have learned how to use the world around us to maintain our very existence or, in many cases, destroy it.

Bottom line: because the universe is so vast and expansive (and apparently infinite) and all of it is moving and changing within a perfectly ordered system proves someone bigger and smarter than any of us put this in place. We cannot understand this. We cannot scientifically prove it. But, no matter what, we live in it and survive by it every second of every day of our lives. Perfection does not come from chaos. Perfection can only come from someone who is PERFECT. We here at the CWG know who that Person is even though we cannot see HIM or touch HIM. All  we have to do is see a rising sun, a blooming rose, a full moon, a rainbow…or hear the cry of a newborn baby or ponder the magic of one snowflake, unique unto itself.

Maybe Dr. Seuss nailed it in his famous book, Horton Hears a Who. Maybe our planet Earth is really no bigger than Horton’s “Whoville.” Maybe we are specks on the end of a ball of dust. Maybe we are not as big and as smart as we think we are. We had to have a Creator. It is common sense. It is ultimately all in HIS hands. I am also sure HE subscribes to the famous sentence in Dr. Seuss’s book, “a person’s a person no matter how small.” Maybe those very “smart” people who reject what must be so need to breathe in a deep dose of humility and realize that this all did not just happen as the result of some random explosion or expansion. It is illogical and makes no sense (to me).

©LarryPeterson 2016

Connie Rossini and St. Therese – CWG March Book Blast

This month, the Catholic Writers’ Guild is touring Guildie Connie Rossini’s book, Trusting God with St. Therese. It’s an SOA winner as well as an award-winning novel, and an inspiration to anyone needing find inspiration in the face of difficult situations.

 

Summary: Are your fears, weaknesses, doubts, and anger keeping you from intimacy with Christ? Do you struggle with despair? Let St. Therese teach you perfect trust.  Learn how Therese of Lisieux trusted God through tragedy, scruples, spiritual darkness, and physical suffering. Connie Rossini pairs episodic stories from the saint’s life with memories of her own quest to trust. With Sacred Scripture, the Catechism of the Catholic Church, and insights from psychology, Rossini leads readers to surrender their lives completely to Jesus. Practical and accessible, Trusting God with St. Therese includes questions for reflection that make it perfect for book clubs and faith-sharing groups.

Buy it on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00LTATI6C

Excerpt

St. Therese’s trust in God is almost legendary—so much so that we might consider such trust beyond our reach. In her family and later in the Carmelite cloister, she was bathed in a culture focused on Christ. When she struggled at school, she came home to learn among those who understood her. When she wanted to give herself fully to God, she became a nun. When she began to speak about her little way of spiritual childhood, others encouraged her. We daily encounter challenges to trust that she never faced. The world around us—sometimes even including our dearest family members—meets our desire for God with indifference or hostility. In the Church, others think us presumptuous for even striving to follow God more faithfully. And an insistent voice inside us urges us at every step to abandon our course. “Why focus on trust?” we ask ourselves. There are so many pressing problems for Catholics in today’s world: battling the Culture of Death, bringing strays back to the faith, revamping catechesis, caring for the poor. Why not focus instead on one of these? When we ponder this question more deeply, the mistaken notion behind it reveals itself. We do not practice one virtue or join an apostolate in isolation from the rest of our Christian life. Focusing on trust does not take us away from these other important things. It helps us advance in them. Fighting the Culture of Death, for example, can be discouraging, heartbreaking, and personally risky. Trust gives us the strength to persevere. Likewise, we must trust God with the hearts of the lost, for ultimately only he can convert them. We must trust him to work through his Church, even when the humans who make up that Church fall short. And unless we can accept God’s providence, the trials of the poor will crush our spirits. Why should we focus on trust?

In a letter to Sr. Marie of the Sacred Heart, Therese put it concisely: “It is trust, and nothing but trust that must bring us to Love” (PST, 61). “Love,” of course, is God himself. In other words, we cannot grow close to him until we trust him.