Author: Newman Catholic Students' Society Executive

Have you ever heard of Saint Scholastica? She was the twin sister of Saint Benedict of Nursia and is regarded as the foundress of Western female monasticism. She was born in central Italy in the year 480, and died of natural causes on February 10th, 543. As she lived pre-schism, she is venerated in both the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox churches. Her feast day is February 10th.

If you’ve ever been to St. Patrick’s here in Montreal, you know there are mosaics of individual saints all around the basilica. There is a mosaic of Saint Scholastica on one of the pillars in the back, where she is depicted holding a red book and a crosier.

According to Benedictine tradition, Saint Scholastica founded a monastery near her brother’s in Monte Cassino, Italy. There is some historical debate as to whether this was a “real” monastery with a community of women having taken formal vows, or whether it was more like a “house monastery” with her and a few other consecrated women living on her family’s estate.

We don’t know that much about Saint Scholastica, though. The only source of information is from Saint Gregory the Great, who, in his Dialogues, recounts a meeting between her and Saint Benedict. Apparently, the brother and sister met once a year, with each leaving their respective monasteries. They talked about spiritual matters and encouraged one another in their Christian vocation. At the end of one of these meetings, Scholastica asked Benedict to stay longer. He said no, that he couldn’t be away from his monastery that long. She then bowed her head in prayer and soon after the weather turned from pleasant to thunder and rain. Travel back to his monastery was out of the question, so Benedict stayed the night with his sister and they continued their spiritual conversation.

It turns out that Scholastica was hurt that her brother wasn’t listening to her, so she turned to God in prayer, since He always listens. That was how the weather changed and they got to spend more time together! Saint Gregory writes, “Is it not a thing to be marveled at, that a woman, who for a long time had not seen her brother, might do more in that instance than he could? She realized, according to the saying of St. John, “God is love”. Therefore, as is right, she who loved more, did more.” (http://www.osb.org/gen/scholastica.html)

Gender assumptions aside, this is true: she was able to do more because she loved more. I used to read Magnificat magazine, which, in the February 2011 edition, included this reflection: “Christ’s love for St. Scholastica and her love for Him spilled over into a lively and determined love for her brother, St. Benedict. Her love gave her prayer a power that startled even that holy man.” It all comes down to love. If we want to do more for God, we need to grow in our relationship with Him, because love is the only real source of power and strength we have.

I first heard of Saint Scholastica as a child, in a book called “The Holy Twins” (written by Kathleen Norris and illustrated by Tomie dePaola). The picture below is from this book. I love it because it shows the natural affection she and her brother had for each other. Saint Gregory writes that when Scholastica died, Benedict saw her soul “ascend into heaven in the likeness of a dove”, and then sent his monks to bring her corpse to his monastery so he could bury it in his own (future) grave. He concludes this story by writing, “By this means it fell out that, as their souls were always one in God while they lived, so their bodies continued together after their death.” Sometimes in hagiographies it seems like affection for others is depicted as wrong, but in this story, we see that it was exactly their relationship that helped each on their path to God. We need the love and support of others!

I’ll end with the collect for the day:

As we celebrate anew the Memorial of the Virgin Saint Scholastica, we pray, O Lord, that, following her example, we may serve you with pure love and happily receive what comes from loving you. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

(Photo from: http://tomiesblog.blogspot.ca/2012/11/limited-edition-holy-twins-print.html)

How far would you go in the proclaiming of your faith? Would you do so even though it meant death, pain, or suffering? In the comfort of our quiet North American lives, this is not a question we are often confronted with. Perhaps we can claim we ‘relate’ to an extent to what it’s like to suffer for one’s faith, as we see millions of our sisters and brothers in the middle east driven out of their homes, or killed because they are Nasrani ( the Arabic for Christian -followers of Jesus from Nazareth-). But even our efforts to relate with those who suffer for their faith, does not enable us to reproduce the experience these martyrs go through. And while no one should ever recommend that we follow the examples of the martyrs in our Church, I believe it’s important we at least try to channel the energy in their spiritual life that drove them to those moments of profound love for Jesus.

Today the Church remembers a group of these martyrs from Japan: Saints Paul Miki (a native Japanese Jesuit priest in formation), John of Goto, James Kisai and their companions. The story of their martyrdom was one deeply connected with the Jesuit ministry in the east. Thanks to the efforts of the Father of all missionary work, Saint Francis Xavier (1506-1552), and thanks to the efforts of his Jesuit brothers that came after his death, by 1587, there were around 200,000 Japanese who had entered the Church. Unfortunately, as is usually the norm in mission country, with growth, came tension with the existing political and religious order.

In 1593, when a group of Franciscans (who had a very different, more zealous style of evangelization than the Jesuits did) arrived to Japan from the Philippines, the tensions only escalated. As positive as their work may have been, their presence disturbed a delicate situation between the Church and Japanese authorities. This tension was exacerbated even further when a Spanish ship was seized off the Japanese coast, and found to be carrying artillery. The result was that paranoid, yet influential Japanese minister demanded the execution of 26 Catholics. The group was comprised of “three native Jesuits, six foreign Franciscans, and several lay Catholics including some children. Sentenced to die by crucifixion and lancing (piercing with lances), they were first marched 600 miles to the city of Nagasaki.”

Paul Miki is the one who is the most remembered because of his courageous efforts to evangelize to the mob who were mocking them, even while he hung on the cross:

“The only reason for my being killed is that I have taught the doctrine of Christ. I thank God it is for this reason that I die. I believe that I am telling the truth before I die. After Christ’s example, I forgive my persecutors. I do not hate them. I ask God to have pity on all, and I hope my blood will fall on my fellow men as a fruitful rain.”

He and his companions were in the end stabbed to death with lances on Feb. 5, 1597, at the site that became known as “Martyrs’ Hill” . We celebrate them today, since February 5th is the date we remember another great martyr in our Church, St Agatha. We are graced in this Church to have such a plethora of people that are absolutely heroic in the way they lived their faith in the world. Let us pray that we can learn to be as courageous and dedicated in the way we evangelize the world today. St Paul Miki and companions, pray for us.

By: Br. Dan (Source: Catholic News Agency)

The second in our series on Evangelization here at the NCSS Blog comes from a blogger who wishes to remain anonymous. Thank you for your contribution! 

We often hear the term “cradled Catholic” thrown around referring to those of us who have grown up with a practice of the Catholic faith as a part of our family life. It is a beautiful thing when parents of a newly baptized baby take seriously their responsibility to raise their children in the faith. These families are the ones that glow at mass – you know who I am talking about.

But the reality is, if we take an honest look at what’s going on in our generation, fewer and fewer Catholics are raised to love Jesus and the Church. This translates to fewer and fewer couples who allow God into their families and home life.

But something beautiful is happening in the midst of these trends – young people – you and I, are being invaded by grace. Many have encountered the love and mercy of God and have discovered that the Catholic Church as the true source of life and love. What a great mystery and miracle this is!

However, where does this leave us in our relationships with our families? For those of us who feel like the black sleep among their closest relatives, I have a message for you: you are not alone. There are many out there who have encountered Christ and desire to share how He has made “all things new” only to experience resistance, difficulty, arguments, misunderstandings, and great emotional heartache when encountering our families. This can be truly painful because it is in our families where we desire to be accepted and received most deeply.

Here are some tips (by no means exhaustive) to help you navigate these rocky waters:

1. A paradigm shift: We can often come from the perspective of “Why don’t they get it?” or “Why don’t they see the goodness of what I have decided to live for?” – the reality is that you chose something different than what was chosen for you. Your parents are confused because you aren’t walking in their footsteps and they are likely wondering why (with varying levels of frustration, expressed or not).  Feelings of humiliation, failure or shame come to the surface and these are not easy to deal with, even on a good day. We need to accept this difference, and be gentle with our families, while recognizing that God has a plan that we can hope in, even if we can’t see it in the immediate future.

2. Don’t hide: The easiest thing do when a Sunday rolls around is to slip into the car and head to mass without telling anyone. My thought process: “Don’t tell anyone you are going to church = less likely to have an awkward conversation later.” Makes sense to me. Um, no. Don’t hide!If you are going to mass or just came from mass – or you had a great night at a Catholic event, just share a little about it! You might not get into the same depth you would with your Catholic friends, but it doesn’t hurt to show your joy! When we are living in the spirit, we magnify the Lord – so don’t let your fears stifle the Holy Spirit in you. It can be an opportunity that God uses to touch someone’s heart, often without you knowing it.

3. Talk things through with a confidant:We all need support. Just like Frodo in the Lord of the Rings, we need to lean on others along the way. Ask for prayers from your friends when you are struggling, talk through the experiences you have with a faithful mentor or priest. Don’t let things fester in the darkened areas of your heart – but bring them to the light and let others help you make sense of it all!

4. Let go and do what love requires. Let go of your expectations. Don’t grasp at a reality that has not presented itself, but do what love requires moment by moment. Wash those extra dishes without being asked, call home to tell your mom where you are, do something thoughtful for each family member just because, expecting nothing in return. This selfless charity requires great humility and trust – both of which we are invited into as Christian disciples – especially when it costs us our pride.

5. Be easy on yourself. Just so you know: You will mess up. Why is it that the ugly sides of ourselves come out around our family?! They do, don’t they? And when they do, and you are not the angel you envisioned yourself to be, don’t beat yourself up. Admit your wrongs, ask the Holy Spirit for grace and help and try again. Apologize. Seek reconciliation and get in there again. It feels rocky sometimes, but it will get better as you continue seeking after the Lord’s guidance.

6. Pray for your family: I once had a wise women tell me, “pray for your family every day – one Hail Mary each day.” And I’ll be honest, it’s not easy; it’s hard to pray into situations that are difficult and expect God to do seemingly impossible and great things. But God calls us to such faith!  Another thought is to entrust each of your family members to a particular saint – saints are prayer machines! They want nothing more than to pray for us here on earth – so get the saints working for you and your family!

And lastly, know that you have a Father in heaven that is making up for whatever you need in those areas of your heart that need it most. He is on the sidelines watching you play and can’t wait to debrief with you when you the whistle is blown at the end of the game. He is longing to have you call him “Abba, Father” and let yourself be adopted by him as a son or daughter. Let yourself be fathered by God.

Take some time to repeat and pray:

• Father, father me.

Blog submission from Richard Bernier for NCSS

Do Catholics believe in predestination? And if so, does that mean God loves human beings “unequally”?

These are heavy questions, for if the answer to them is “yes” or even “maybe,” it may leave us wondering where we sit on the spectrum of God’s love and on the spectrum of salvation. That kind of uncertainty certainly doesn’t feel like “good news”, which is what Jesus said He came to announce (see, for example, Mark 1:14 – εὐαγγέλιον means “good news”, and when we translate it “gospel” we are just using a fine old-timey English word that means “good news”). Where’s the good news in wondering if God loves me more or less, wondering if I am predestined or not?

First things first. Spoiler alert: None of us is predestined to be lost. Though I am giving away my punchline, this is not the sort of worry that Christ’s Church is in the business of sowing; it is the worry that drove poor William Cowper mad, and who knows how many other lesser-known but no less God-loved souls besides.

No human being who has ever been created was created for damnation, created with no possible fate except to be lost. Not Judas, not Mao, not me, not you, not the guy who invented spray cheese, none of us was created with the inexorable fate or destiny of being lost. “God our Saviour… desires all [people] to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth” (I Timothy 2:4, RSV). The Catechism of the Catholic Church, shortly after using the word “predestination” (more on that later!), cites and makes its own the blunt affirmation of the ninth-century local Council of Quiercy:

“The Church, following the apostles, teaches that Christ died for all [people] without exception: “There is not, never has been, and never will be a single human being for whom Christ did not suffer” (para. 605).

In the richest sense of the wry and threadbare phrase, there is hope for us all. Why is there hope for us all? Because our Lord Jesus Christ became incarnate, and lived, and died, and rose again for every person. He came to destroy death for every one of us. He came to conquer sin and the enemy of our souls, he was made flesh and dwelt among us, so that we might all “have life, and have it abundantly” (John 10:10). God’s love for us is not a grudging concession; it is, rather, what God does because He is God. Bonum est diffusivum sui, St. Thomas Aquinas wrote (Summa theologiae, I, q. 5, a. 4): the good is diffusive of itself. The cosmos exists, being is, because God in His Godly love has created this immense and magnificent cosmos in a diffusion of His Godly goodness. The Incarnation makes communion with the Holy Trinity – eternal life, to call it by another name – a possibility for every soul, from the newly-conceived zygote or embryo whose own mother is as yet unaware of his or her existence, to Jean Vanier or St Edith Stein, to the most heinous and far-gone villain you can imagine. A possibility, I say, not a certainty: we are not inexorably predestined to damnation, but we are not even inexorably predestined to salvation either. Salvation is a possibility for all of us because God loves us all, and Christ lived and died and rose for us all; perdition is a possibility for most of us, because most of us are free. (The Church baptizes babies and the profoundly disabled because they too are called to the eternal life that begins at Baptism, but they are not free at the present time, they are not in any position to reject God – and therefore they are in no danger of perdition).

So it really makes no sense to think of God’s love for creation or for humanity or (more precisely) for each human being as “equal” or “unequal”. Love is not quantifiable, so what does “equal” love even mean? Yes, it is part of the human condition to have much more affection for some people than for others; even a parent or teacher will have a soft spot for this or that child, a secret (or even not-so-secret) warmth for one more than for another. The Incarnate God, Jesus Christ, in His humanity, was no exception to this very human trait: He had a soft spot for the disciple John (see John 13:23), and looked “with love” on the rich young man in his confusion and struggle (Mark 10:21). This asymmetry of affection is not the same as loving unequally: a good dad who secretly and quite naturally has a soft spot for one of his children in particular still genuinely wants and wills what is best for all of his children. In that sense, love is not measured primarily by the feelings associated with it but by the decisions it motivates, and a good mum or dad will act for the genuine good of all his or her children. God is not subject to the vagaries of human changes of affection; He is not petty, or cold, or resentful, so we need not fear any of the fickleness or whim that can make human love treacherous or unpredictable. By the only measure that matters – the measure of will – God’s love for each of us is beyond quantifying. Does God want eternal life for me? Yes. Does He want eternal life for you? Yes. Does He want it for everyone? Yes. Welcome to the club, where all are “equally” loved beyond measure – literally beyond measure, beyond any yardstick of equality or inequality that could possibly matter. The effects of God’s love are as different as human beings are different, I suppose, and we won’t grasp the whole drama of human and salvation history until the final fulfilment of things; but in the meantime, “equality” or “inequality” of God’s love is a meaningless measure.

God loves us all in the Godly way of loving, which is beyond human comprehension; and He wills that we should all have eternal life, pending our free acceptance of that unmerited gift. The Catechism of the Catholic Church, echoing I Timothy 2:4, speaks of the “universal saving will of God” (para. 1256). Every day, each of us is the recipient of countless gifts that vary widely from person to person – health, insight, friendship, strength, cheerfulness, opportunities, and so forth – that the Catholic tradition thinks of as “created graces”. A “grace” is simply an unmerited gift, and we all receive created graces by the sheer fact of existing. I have received much more than some, and less than others; but without wasting time on comparing my lot with anyone else’s, I have plenty to be grateful for, starting with the startling fact of my very existence. Besides these created graces, however, the Catholic tradition also speaks of uncreated grace, also called sanctifying or habitual grace, which is really the gift of God Himself: communion, friendship with the Holy Trinity, the gift of God’s presence and action in my being, inaugurated at Baptism and Confirmation, healed in Confession, and nourished and renewed by His real presence in the holy Eucharist. Eternal life consists of this uncreated grace, this communion with God, extended beyond death and the ravages of time, into the resurrected body to which we may all look forward.

What, then, of predestination? In my view, it is (with all due respect to the distinguished theologians who have used the term) a red herring. The only version of predestination that is compatible with the Catholic faith is so much unlike what we naturally understand “predestination” to mean that I think it would be much better not to use the term at all. Right off the bat, the Catholic faith rejects any notion that anyone is “destined” to be damned. That notion of predestination is, to my mind, frankly monstrous. So if we use the word “predestined”, we have to exclude any notion that anyone is “destined” to be lost; but that idea merely seems like the most logical flip-side of the claim that some people are “destined” to be saved. It begins to look like the only version of being “pre-destined” that is compatible with the Catholic faith must exclude any notion of being “destined” at all. It’s as if I chose to describe a certain bird as a mammal; “But wait!” you object; “doesn’t a mammal by definition have mammary glands? Does this bird have mammary glands?”. “No,” I answer cleverly, “it does not. It is a mammal in the non-mammalian sense”. Right. Perhaps another word would be better, no?

So where does this Catholic use of the term “pre-destination” come from? It comes, in my view, from a classic and vexing problem in Christian philosophy (and even theistic philosophy generally): if God knows what I am going to do, how am I free to do differently? If God knows today that tomorrow I will choose the soup over the salad, then it seems like I am not really free to choose the salad. Thus (the puzzle continues) if God knows the future, and therefore the future cannot be otherwise, then He must know if someone is saved or lost; but someone who is saved is only saved by the grace of God, which is unmerited; therefore God must have willed to give that person the necessary grace from all eternity, which may be true enough. By extension, however, it has been argued – quite wrongly, I think – that grace is wasted on a person whom God knows will reject it, so perhaps He doesn’t offer it, thus sparing the person the tragedy of digging himself an even deeper hole.

I have very little patience with such logical contortions. There is an immense literature on the problems of God’s knowledge of the future, on freedom, on the distinction between “God predicting the future with high accuracy” versus “knowing it as a present fact because He is outside time”; I will not attempt to summarize the issues here, largely because I have a hunch that they are mostly irrelevant and unsolvable. What does it mean for God to perceive as a present fact that which is, for me, merely a future possibility ? How does God perceive in eternity (which encompasses the present and the future) a future that does not yet exist, at least as far as I can see? To be frank, I don’t even begin to understand what it means to be “outside time”. Without intending any irreverence, I am tempted to observe this: I grew up with cats, and I am very fond of them, but I have not the faintest idea of how cats perceive the world and time; so how can I possibly expect to understand how God interacts with time? If I cannot understand the feline mind, then understanding the divine mind is definitely above my pay grade. This is not meant to be flippant, but to point out that grasping even human knowledge, grasping even animal knowledge, is a longstanding and thorny puzzle for the philosophical discipline of epistemology; we ought to be exceedingly hesitant to make sweeping claims about what God’s knowledge is like, especially if scurrying down that rabbit hole means losing sight of far more fundamental and certain realities, such as the goodness of God, and the foundation of our hope.

Instead, the Scriptures and the Catholic faith, while acknowledging the troubling mystery of sin and rebellion, largely consign “predestination” in most senses to the dustbin, because they clearly and vigorously affirm these far more important pieces of good news instead:

• God definitely loves you (no matter who you are) and wants you to be in communion with Him for eternity; in a word, He wants you to be saved.
• Through the life, death and resurrection of Christ, and the sacraments, and the free work of the Holy Spirit, you (no matter who you are) have available to you everything you need to be saved – simply because God loves you beyond measure. You have no need (or even any possibility) to try to earn it.
• The only thing that can thwart God’s plan for your salvation is the freedom He Himself gave you – for you are free to sin and to reject eternal life. Even if you have done so, you still have the chance to return to Him; but if you finally, ultimatelyresolve to reject Him, He will not force you to accept Him. However, there is nothing forcing you to reject Him, so entrust yourself to His grace each day and be filled with hope.