Signature Artist Series - Jen Norton

“Art Is My Language:” An Interview With Artist Jen Norton

Diocesan Publications is thrilled to have kicked-off its “Signature Artist Series” with California artist Jen Norton. (You can read Norton’s bio here.) While our in-house artists and graphic designers are very talented, it is exciting to collaborate with artists such as Norton. Even more exciting is getting the chance to speak with her, and learn more about her work.

 

Signature Artist Series - Jen NortonWhat’s your earliest memory of creating something artistic?

JN: Probably age 2, sitting at the kitchen table at my parents’ house.

I was debilitatingly shy as a child; I don’t know what they’d call it today, but somewhere in grade school they evaluated me and said, “She’s retarded.” It could have been anything – something on the Asperger’s spectrum, selective mutism, social anxiety – some kind of debilitating social illness. I didn’t really talk to anyone but my mother for the first seven years of my life.

My preschool teachers figured out I’d be perfectly happy if they put me in the corner with artistic materials and let me go at it. It was the only place I felt safe. It [art] is a part of my being.

I was no child prodigy; my art looked like every other kid’s art. It was about expression; I could express what I needed to express with art. And I could do this on my own and make myself happy without having to interact with other people.

 

As your talent developed, were there other artists who influenced you?

JN: My third “real” job after college was as a graphic designer in Silicon Valley. As a designer, you get these giant illustration books, and on my downtime, I’d flip through them. I admired these beautifully hand-done illustrations. Gary Kelley is one name that comes to mind, and Mary GrandPre who’s done all the Harry Potter stuff.

In terms of art history, the Post-Impressionist period, when people began to really experiment with paint. I’ve gone to d’Orsay and been in the Degas room, staring at one painting for twenty minutes and my husband is like, “What are you looking at?

It’s when you take the technique and you start to experiment – the color and the experimentation is interesting to me.

 

I know, as a writer, that an artist can find inspiration just about anywhere. You can see a billboard and go “Aha!” What are some of those “triggers” for you as an artist?

JN: Oh, gosh. Just nature. You know, you have the elements of design: color, shape, texture, space, form, harmony, balance … Pattern and color do it for me.

It can be a pattern in a leaf or a flower – those little bits and pieces get into my paintings. Getting out of my own head space, you know. Being an introvert, it’s very easy to be happy and stay happy inside my own head, but when I get out – to the ocean or the mountains – it refreshes you. It gives you new eyes.

I love to read Scripture or read, well, I’m reading this book on Mary Magdalene right now because she fascinates me.

 

During his papacy, St. John Paul II wrote a beautiful letter to artists. He spoke about their role in culture. How do you see your work as not just creating a beautiful “thing” but as a spiritual act?

JN: Art is an emotional language, so just like learning English or Spanish, it is absolutely necessary to learn some form of art (writing or music or painting or whatever) as your emotional expression.

You see so much violence in schools, and we all complain about [the loss of the arts in schools] but we realize it’s not just about “She wrote a great book” or … It’s an expression. For me, it’s in doing the art, working out problems. When it gets to the point where I like it and I think “that’s authentic” – there’s no way you can lie in art. If it’s authentic, it’s from your soul. It’s how you think your way through it.

Our society absolutely has to have a way to express itself on a more emotional level. Most of us have some level of disability of expression – like not being able to have a normal conversation – and we need another way to do it. If people were allowed to do that, if art were held in the same esteem as math and the sciences, recognizing that it’s a different animal but equal, I think we’d have a much healthier society.

Especially in America, we quantify everything by money. How much can you earn as an artist? Well, I don’t know; if you’re creative in how you do it, some make a lot of money. I’m making enough to help pay for my daughter’s college right now. It’s not a lost cause, and it’s not for everybody [as a career.] But to say art is “less” is to deny those who need [the belief that] they are just as important as those in math and science.

 

Much of your art combines the visual with language. This is sort of a “chicken and the egg” question – which comes first for you, the visual or the words?

JN: Like I said, art is my language so it goes together.

Both ways, I guess. There have been times when I’ve been commissioned to do something around a prayer and then I figure out the visual. And there are other ones where the image and the words kind of “gel” together. Or maybe I’ve done the image and I think, “This could use a little more…”

The first Catholic piece I did (because I was doing landscapes and such) came out of a difficult year, and the mantra that kept coming to me was “Let it be.” I felt like it was Mary, like saying a rosary, and it was her saying, “Let it be. Let it be. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be taken care of.”

It’s all different. There’s no format.

 

Obviously, your faith influences your work. How do you stay spiritually  healthy so that  your art continues to be true and beautiful?

JN: Well I don’t know if I do; I just try to stay indoors if I’m not feeling it [laughs.]

It gets really busy sometimes. I do a lot of production work because I sell copies of my work online. But I think for me giving myself time every day to reflect. I get up in the morning, make the coffee, feed the dog, and that’s when I’ll say a rosary. Somedays, I get really distracted: three prayers in and my mind is gone.

I have a daily Scripture reading that come through my email. I’ll try to take that half hour and just enjoy that moment. My mind will start to get busy with things I have to do that day, and I’ll go, “Wait a minute. I get this half hour for me.”

The rest is just day-to-day learning. If you’re trying to do right, and you do something wrong, you think, “Ok, I did that wrong. I don’t want to do that again.”

 

What’s your favorite part of the creative process?

JN: Every time you start, you look at that blank canvas and you think, “Ugh, that’s going to be so much work!”

You have to trick yourself into it. “I’m just gonna throw some color on this…” Part of my style has come around because I don’t want to take a lot of time sketching something out, or do an underpainting. I don’t have that kind of patience!

So I trick myself into it. I throw some paint on it, put some collage on, make some texture. “It doesn’t matter; I can paint over it.” I paint in acrylic because once it dries you can paint over it. So I paint and I get into it and there’s always this one point where I think “I’ve absolutely screwed this up. I have to fix it.” But I have to go through that frustration.

It’s between that point and the final touches that I’m beyond thinking of composition and structure; now I’m just doing textures and palettes and fun colors and balancing things. That’s where it’s much more emotional and intuitive and less thinking. That’s where I get the most enjoyment.

Thanks to Jen Norton for taking time to speak with us. We urge you to visit her website and take in more of her work.

Queen of Heaven

Hail, Queen Of Heaven! Pray For Us!

The church has acknowledged Mary as “queen” since its earliest days. As soon as Mary accepted God’s plan for her to be the Mother of the Savior, our King, she was Queen. Mary was never a queen in a palace, attended by ladies-in-waiting, nor did she rule over any lands. Like her Son, Mary’s royalty was wrapped in mystery and humility. This royal family lived in simplicity and obedience to God.

In 1954, Pope Pius XII issued the encyclical Ad Caeli Reginam (Queen of Heaven). Sixty years later, this encyclical sounds as fresh as if it was written yesterday. Bearing in mind that Pope Pius was addressing a world still recovering from a horrific world war, he knew that weary hearts needed a mother’s love:

Following upon the frightful calamities which before Our very eyes have reduced flourishing cities, towns, and villages to ruins, We see to Our sorrow that many great moral evils are being spread abroad in what may be described as a violent flood. Occasionally We behold justice giving way; and, on the one hand and the other, the victory of the powers of corruption. The threat of this fearful crisis fills Us with a great anguish, and so with confidence We have recourse to Mary Our Queen, making known to her those sentiments of filial reverence which are not Ours alone, but which belong to all those who glory in the name of Christian.

Today, we watch these same circumstances unfold around us. Our neighbors in Louisiana are overcome with the aftermath of flooding. Our cities have been on fire with riots and shootings all summer long. Our Syrian brothers and sisters have been driven from their homes, their cities, towns and places of worship destroyed. How do we continue to be faithful in our sorrow? We must turn to Mary, our Queen.

Pope Pius XII pointed out that referring to Mary as “queen” is nothing new to Christians:

6. In this matter We do not wish to propose a new truth to be believed by Christians, since the title and the arguments on which Mary’s queenly dignity is based have already been clearly set forth, and are to be found in ancient documents of the Church and in the books of the sacred liturgy.

7. It is Our pleasure to recall these things in the present encyclical letter, that We may renew the praises of Our heavenly Mother, and enkindle a more fervent devotion towards her, to the spiritual benefit of all mankind.

8. From early times Christians have believed, and not without reason, that she of whom was born the Son of the Most High received privileges of grace above all other beings created by God. He “will reign in the house of Jacob forever,” “the Prince of Peace,”the “King of Kings and Lord of Lords.” And when Christians reflected upon the intimate connection that obtains between a mother and a son, they readily acknowledged the supreme royal dignity of the Mother of God.

9. Hence it is not surprising that the early writers of the Church called Mary “the Mother of the King” and “the Mother of the Lord,” basing their stand on the words of St. Gabriel the archangel, who foretold that the Son of Mary would reign forever, and on the words of Elizabeth who greeted her with reverence and called her “the Mother of my Lord.”Thereby they clearly signified that she derived a certain eminence and exalted station from the royal dignity of her Son.

The pope warned about exaggerating Mary’s role in the church and in our lives, saying that any recognition of Mary’s “divine dignity” must always be attributed to the “infinite goodness that is God.” That is, Mary has no power or ability or role that God Himself has not granted her; she does nothing of her own will but only that of God’s.

Pope Pius XII concluded this encyclical:

51. By this Encyclical Letter We are instituting a feast so that all may recognize more clearly and venerate more devoutly the merciful and maternal sway of the Mother of God. We are convinced that this feast will help to preserve, strengthen and prolong that peace among nations which daily is almost destroyed by recurring crises. Is she not a rainbow in the clouds reaching towards God, the pledge of a covenant of peace? “Look upon the rainbow, and bless Him that made it; surely it is beautiful in its brightness. It encompasses the heaven about with the circle of its glory, the hands of the Most High have displayed it.”Whoever, therefore, reverences the Queen of heaven and earth – and let no one consider himself exempt from this tribute of a grateful and loving soul – let him invoke the most effective of Queens, the Mediatrix of peace; let him respect and preserve peace, which is not wickedness unpunished nor freedom without restraint, but a well-ordered harmony under the rule of the will of God; to its safeguarding and growth the gentle urgings and commands of the Virgin Mary impel us.

52. Earnestly desiring that the Queen and Mother of Christendom may hear these Our prayers, and by her peace make happy a world shaken by hate, and may, after this exile show unto us all Jesus, Who will be our eternal peace and joy, to you, Venerable Brothers, and to your flocks, as a promise of God’s divine help and a pledge of Our love, from Our heart We impart the Apostolic Benediction.

By acknowledging Mary as Queen, we acknowledge Her Son’s Divinity. She shines only in reflection of His Light. She is our mother, because we have been adopted by God the Father through our baptism in Christ Jesus and the Holy Spirit. Salve, Regina, mater misericordiae; vita, dulcedo et spes nostra, salve. Hail, holy Queen, Mother of mercy, our life, our sweetness and our hope.

Olympics

Is God At The Olympic Games?

Even if you are not athletic, the Olympics are fun to watch. It is incredible to see what people can achieve, what they can overcome and how human emotions are played out as we cheer on a favorite athlete, our nation, the underdog.

At the Huffington Post, David L. Katz asks, “Is god at the Olympics?” If god (lower-case spelling is Katz’s preferred spelling) is at the Olympics, Katz isn’t all that impressed.

It’s bad enough to lose at the Olympics because someone is better at running, or jumping, or swimming. But isn’t it downright devastating to lose because go prefers your opponent? We must allow that with every attribution of victory and its thrills to god, we are attributing to god as well the agony of defeat by divine decree.

Much the same reasoning extends to us, the spectators. If a member of some religion other than our own attributes their victory to god, and cites prayer as the explanation for their success, does it mean our prayers matter less? If god is listening so attentively to the ‘competition,’ does that mean s/he is not listening to us? …

Conversely, if a member of our faith wins, are we comfortable that it’s because athletes of other faiths have all made the wrong religious choice? Does it mean that the winner is the one who prays the best, or prays to the right deity?

Katz concludes that our world is fraught with so many problems: ISIS, the flooding in Louisiana, fires in California. “If god is really micromanaging outcomes at the Olympics for the sake of whatever contingent,” he says, “I can’t help but wonder: is that really the best use of his time?”

It would be wonderful to have the opportunity to sit down with this author and talk through his assumptions, but this blog post will have to do.

First, one would hope that Katz’s view of God as some sort of “divine accountant,” managing one gold for a Christian, a silver for an atheist, and a bronze for a Jew in one event, and then tallying medals for a Muslim, a Sikh and a Hindu in another is not truly how he sees God. No one should see God as playing favorites in such circumstances, or denying an athlete  a medal simply because she is the “wrong” faith. That vision of God makes him seem both cruel and petty. It’s also a very limited view of God: if God is here (at the Olympics) then he cannot possibly be there (with victims of the flooding in Louisiana.) And while we are all guilty of it at some time or another, it does take a bit of hubris to say, “Hey, God! Do you really think that’s the best use of your time? Come here – we gotta talk.”

It’s also clear that Katz has not been listening to the athletes themselves at the Olympics.

David Boudia – diving: “God was completely sovereign throughout this entire journey. He knew how it was going to happen, when it was going to happen and we know why it happens – to make me more like Christ.”

Jordan Burroughs – wrestling: I’ve been blessed with tremendous gifts, and it’s my job to use those gifts to inspire others. As a man of faith, I take great responsibility in being a good steward of my talent . . . God has created unique … avenues to allow me to glorify him.”

Maya DiRado – swimming: “I think God cares about my soul and whether I’m bringing his love and mercy into the world. Can I be a loving, supportive teammate, and can I bless others around me in the same way God has been so generous with me?”

Brady Ellison – archery: “Once I put winning in God’s hands, I stopped worrying about that . . . I just went to tournaments and shot with no fear, doing only the best I can do and leaving the rest up to God.”

Katie Ledecky – swimming: “My Catholic faith is very important to me. It always has been and it always will be. It is part of who I am and I feel comfortable practicing my faith. It helps me put things in perspective.”

Ibtihaj Muhammad – fencing: “I have so many messages across my social media platforms. It almost seems to be this trending thing, where our girls are being told that there’s things that they can’t do or shouldn’t do. And it’s not necessarily specific to Muslim girls. I would say there are tons of girls out there who find inspiration in my story regardless of their faith and are becoming more involved in sport.”

The message of faith that these athletes have espoused during their time at the Olympics is not “God picked me to win above all the rest of you” or “I prayed the hardest so clearly that’s why I won.” Rather, their message has been: God sustains me.

Most of us will never know the time, pain, sacrifices and dedication it takes to reach this level of athletic achievements. Of course it takes difficult choices. A person has to have a certain amount of natural ability. But there are many talented people – fast people, strong people, people who can jump and tumble and lift – that never make it to the Olympics. There is some unquantifiable “thing” – call it grit, call it resolve, valor, guts – that get certain people to the Olympics at a certain point in time. And while it’s clear that many people who do not believe in God have achieved Olympic glory, it is also clear that those who do believe in God do not credit Him with their winning, but rather credit Him with the fortitude and sustenance needed to do what they do.

Perhaps the best example of this happened two days ago, in the women’s 5,000 meter qualifying race. Two runners, Nikki Hamblin of New Zealand and Abbey D’agostino of the US, tangled feet and both fell.

With Hamblin lying on the floor behind her, D’Agostino got back to her feet but refused to continue the race. Instead, she sacrificed her race and turned around to help the prone New Zealander.

The pair hugged at the finish line after finishing well back from the rest of the field. Hamblin finished after 16 minutes and 43 seconds, while D’Agostino eventually finished after 17 minutes and 10 seconds, more than two minutes after the winner of the heat, Almaz Ayana, from Ethiopia.

Hamblin was in shock that a woman she didn’t know would do this, and said of D’Agostino, “That girl is the Olympic spirit right there…”

D’Agostino later discovered that she had torn her ACL and won’t be running again any time soon. But of her Olympic experience in Rio, she had this to say:

Although my actions were instinctual at that moment, the only way I can and have rationalized it is that God prepared my heart to respond that way… This whole time here he’s made clear to me that my experience in Rio was going to be about more than my race performance — and as soon as Nikki got up I knew that was it …

I felt the peace that comes with acknowledging that I’m not going to run this race with my own strength. And I think that acknowledging those fears before God is what allowed me to feel that peace and I was drawn to it and I wanted to know a God who would work that way in my life.

Is God at the Olympics? For believers, the answer is, “Of course. God is everywhere.” And for believers, the evidence is not in who wins or who loses, but in the experience and the witness. For people like David L. Katz, there would likely never be enough evidence to “prove” that God is at the Olympics. And that’s sad, because God’s presence there has been uplifting, powerful and astounding – everything the Olympic spirit should be.

Mary's Assumption

Mary’s Assumption: A Poetic View

Since we began this week with the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, it is only fitting to explore this rich feast again, in a slightly different light. (By the way, Scott Hahn does an excellent job explaining and exploring this beautiful Solemnity.)

As we noted earlier here, this is possibly one of the oldest of the Church’s celebrations. Yet it can be a bit difficult to “wrap one’s head around,” so to speak. As anyone who has ever practiced the prayer method of Lectio Divina knows, our imaginations (grounded in prayer and gifted by God) can be a meaningful way to more deeply understand Biblical and historical events.

The author Madeleine L’Engle (best known for the classic A Wrinkle In Time) was also a gifted poet. In her lovely collection, A Cry Like A Bell, she inhabits and gives voice to various people from the Bible. In the poem, Mary speaks: from Ephesus, Mary is looking back on her life – one that surely is the most remarkable life any woman has ever led. And here, she is tired – it has been a long and tumultuous life, despite its joy. Mary reflects on her Son’s sacrificial life:

This was the sacrifice, this ultimate gift of love.
I thought once that I loved. My love was hundredfold less
than his, than the love of the wood-lice is to mine,
and even this I do not know. For has he not, or will he not
come to the wood-lice as he came to man? Does he not
give his own self to the lowing cattle, the ear of corn,
the blazing sun, the clarion moon, the drop of rain?
His compassion is infinite, his sacrifice incomprehensible,
breaking through the darkness of our loving-lack.

Oh, my son, who was and is and will be, my night draws close.
Come, true light, which taketh away the sin of the world,
and bring me home. My hour is come. Amen.

How could a Son deny His mother her greatest desire – to be reunited with her Son and Savior? In the Assumption, it is revealed that He did just that – bringing His mother (and ours) to her Heavenly home.

darkness

Mother Teresa: A “Saint Of Darkness”

The world came to know Mother Teresa very well during her life. With the possible exception of St. John Paul II, she was likely the most recognizable Catholic on the face of the earth in the 20th century. Her faith and the work she and her Sisters did made her beloved and admired by many.

What no one knew (with the exception of a handful of people, mostly priests) until after her death, was the intense spiritual suffering Mother Teresa underwent for most of her life. Often referred to as “the dark night of the soul” (after a book by the same name written by St. John of the Cross), Mother Teresa had no feeling or consolation of the presence of God in her life.

Most of us have had a time in our life when we’ve cried out, “God, where are you??” It may be a time of illness or tragedy, or a time when our faith is tested by hardship. That feeling is but a tiny glimpse of the suffering of Mother Teresa.

She is not the first saint to endure this nor, undoubtedly, will she be the last. She spoke and wrote to perhaps one friend and also her spiritual advisers about this, but she was adamant that her Sisters and the world not know. She never wanted her experience to impact anyone else’s faith, especially her own Sisters. Upon her death, her diary and letters were released, and the world came to know Mother Teresa in an entirely different manner.

In the book Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light, Father Brian Kolodiejchuk, Director of the Mother Teresa Center in California, presents and explores Mother Teresa’s experience. For the most part, Fr. Kolodiejchuk allows Mother Teresa to speak for herself:

The place of God in my soul is blank. There is no God in me. When the pain of longing is so great I just long & long for God and then it is that I feel He does not want me He is not there.

Fr. Kolodiejchuk goes on to say:

The reality of her relationship with Jesus was truly a paradox. He was living in and through her without her being able to savor the sweetness of His presence … it was only when she was with the poor that she perceived His presence vividly. There she felt Him to be so alive and so real. [emphasis added]

A Jesuit priest, Fr. Joseph Neuner, became a confidante and spiritual adviser to Mother Teresa in 1957, a relationship that lasted for decades. It was his guidance that allowed Mother Teresa to come to some peace with this spiritual condition, “a sharing in Christ’s redemptive suffering.” Fr. Neuner, years later, admitted that while this dark night of the soul was not unusual for the holiest of people, he had never found it so deeply in anyone as it existed for Mother Teresa.

Mother Teresa came to see her “darkness” as an identification with the poor she and her Sisters served:

[S]he was drawn mystically into the deep pain they [the poor] experienced as a result of feeling unwanted and rejected and, above all, by living without faith in God.

Mother Teresa, in a letter to Fr. Neuner in 1962, said, “If I ever become a saint I will surely be one of ‘darkness.’ Her faith in Christ, and her absolute reliance on the Eucharist, allowed Mother Teresa to come to a point, spiritually, that she said, “I have come to love the darkness,” not because she loved the feeling that God was absent, but that this suffering allowed her to give herself wholly to the men, women and children that she served every day.

It is unfathomable to most of us how a person whose public face was one of joy and peace, could endure such darkness and still have faith. It is that last part, the steadfastness of Mother Teresa’s faith, under these incomprehensible spiritual conditions, that should and will be her most enduring legacy. As she said to Fr. Neuner in one letter, “You are sad for me but we really have no reason to be sad. He is the Master. He can dispose of me as it pleaseth Him alone.”

last shall be first

And The Last Shall Be First

But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first. (Mt. 19:30)

It is easy, sometimes, to make such sayings of Jesus into sentimental platitudes. We might think the “last” are the poor starving children in Africa or Asia our mothers told us about when we wasted food. Or maybe we think we are “last” because of the stack of bills next to us as we watch music and tv stars flaunt their wealth. We have a vision in our own minds of just who is “first” and who is “last.”

But our ways are not God’s ways. And turning Jesus’ teachings into fantasy is a risky business – for our souls. Madeleine Delbrêl (1904-1964) was a French author and poet. She tried to see people as God sees, and challenged others to do the same. She had this to say about the above quotes from the Gospel of Matthew:

The state of being characterized by the term “last” in this sense is not something that one creates for oneself. God allows it to happen to the person he wants to have it – it’s his business. Our job is to respect in our lives those elements that resemble it in some slight way.

It is useful sometimes to take a look at what we have in our repertoire that was first and foremost a gift from other people. It is good for us to acknowledge this constantly; it is also good to focus on those things we want at all costs to do alone and those things that we genuinely need but won’t ask for only because we don’t want to ask for them.

Delbrêl’s thoughts here are exactly what the Gospel should be doing in our lives: making us a bit uncomfortable. A pebble in our shoe or a burr in our pants – what’s poking me? Why am I feeling this sense of unease? Well, in Delbrêl’s understanding, we should be feeling uncomfortable. Why? Because we are doing what humans usually do (that pesky original sin!): thinking we know God’s mind.

Who among us hasn’t thought, “I certainly deserve better than I’m getting here!” or “That guy? He’s ahead of me?? I run circles around him!” We put ourselves above others, but then in some twisted way, think we are then at the end of the line. It’s rather like bragging, “I am far more humble than anyone else!”

If we are truly honest with ourselves – a real examination of conscience – we know that much of what we have is a gift. Perhaps it was a loan from someone at a critical time in our lives. Maybe it’s that Mom and Dad paid our college tuition. Many of us have mentors or spiritual directors that point us in the right direction when we could have easily taken an errant path. And yet, we want to take the credit.

At other times, we may find ourselves in need, but we are too proud to ask for help. It may be that we are buried at work, but we don’t want our boss to think that we are not up to the task. Maybe as a parent, we feel overwhelmed with the chores of everyday life, and we need a break, but we have a “supermom” complex. As Delbrêl says, we “won’t ask for [such help] because we don’t want to.”

But even more than that, we have to come to understand that everything we have – material, spiritual, physical – is a gift from God. If we are severely lacking spiritually, it is only because we have turned away from God. God gives us exactly what we need, if we are smart enough to accept it. Delbrêl again:

The Gospel words are meant to reach into the very roots of our corruption, the depths of which we cannot fathom insofar as we do not know the great heights at which our holiness lies.  We should thus not be surprised at the sad interminable journeys, the deep upheavals that each of these words initiates within us.  We shouldn’t try to hold back this sort of free-fall of the word into our depths.  We need the passive courage that allows it to act within us – “Let it be done to me according to your Word.”

And when once a single one of these words has stolen into us, we need to know how to desire communion with all the others, even if this little book seems vast, and our life tiny, narrow, and incapable of bearing it. . .

Let the Word of God get under your skin a bit today. Let it irritate you a bit. In doing so, may God’s Word help us to see things a bit more as God sees them. Let us know what it truly means to be “first” and “last” in the Kingdom of God.

Maximilian Kolbe

St. Maximilian Kolbe: “No Greater Love Than This”

August 14th is the feast day of St. Maximilian Kolbe, a priest whom St. John Paul II said was “the patron saint of our difficult [20th] century.” It is fitting that we remember this Franciscan priest today as well, August 15th, the Solemnity of the Assumption of Mary, as his devotion to Mary was a bedrock of his faith.

St. Maximilian Kolbe was born in 1894, baptized Rajmund Kolbe in what was then a part of Russia, but would eventually be annexed into Poland. In 1907, he and his brother Francis joined the Franciscans. He was eventually sent to Krakow to study, eventually earning two doctorate degrees. He had a brilliant mind, loved science and was fascinated by military history. Yet, he served God above all else.

Maximilian Kolbe wished to spend his vocation spreading devotion to Mary, and is credited with using the most advanced printing techniques to do so. The Immaculata Friars eventually published a daily paper with a circulation of almost a quarter million and a monthly magazine that reached over one million people. Maximilian Kolbe liked to say, “Never be afraid of loving the Blessed Virgin to much. You can never love her more than Jesus did.”

Then came World War II. Kolbe’s priestly life shifted from spreading the Gospel and devotion to the Blessed Mother on a large-scale basis to helping his fellow Poles survive. He is credited with saving the lives of at least 2000 Jews “in his friary in Niepokalanów. He was also active as a radio amateur, with Polish call letters SP3RN, vilifying Nazi activities through his reports.”

In 1941, he was arrested and sent to Auschwitz. (While the Nazis primary targets were Jews, it is said that by 1939, 80 percent of Catholic clergy in Poland had been deported to death camps. By the end of the war, six bishops, 2,020 priests, 127 seminarians, 173 lay brothers and 243 nuns were killed by the Nazis.) Fr. Kolbe spent his time in the camp working, as did the other prisoners, but also ministering to his fellow prisoners as best he could. He would often move from bed to bed at night, gently asking, “I’m a priest. Can I do anything for you?

A prisoner later recalled how he and several others often crawled across the floor at night to be near the bed of Father Kolbe, to make their confessions and ask for consolation. Father Kolbe pleaded with his fellow prisoners to forgive their persecutors and to overcome evil with good. When he was beaten by the guards, he never cried out. Instead, he prayed for his tormentors.

In the Gospel of John, Jesus instructs His followers that they must remain in the love of God, and that love will sustain them. Then He says:

This is my commandment: love one another as I love you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. (jn. 15:12-13

Few of us will ever be called to this test of faith, but Fr. Kolbe was.

In order to discourage escapes, Auschwitz had a rule that if a man escaped, ten men would be killed in retaliation. In July 1941 a man from Kolbe’s bunker escaped. The dreadful irony of the story is that the escaped prisoner was later found drowned in a camp latrine, so the terrible reprisals had been exercised without cause. But the remaining men of the bunker were led out.

The commandant Karl Fritsch screamed. ‘You will all pay for this. Ten of you will be locked in the starvation bunker without food or water until they die.’ The prisoners trembled in terror. A few days in this bunker without food and water, and a man’s intestines dried up …

The ten were selected, including Franciszek Gajowniczek, imprisoned for helping the Polish Resistance. He couldn’t help a cry of anguish. ‘My poor wife!’ he sobbed. ‘My poor children! What will they do?’ When he uttered this cry of dismay, Maximilian stepped silently forward, took off his cap, and stood before the commandant and said, ‘I am a Catholic priest. Let me take his place. I am old. He has a wife and children.’

Astounded, the icy-faced Nazi commandant asked, ‘What does this Polish pig want?’

Father Kolbe pointed with his hand to the condemned Franciszek Gajowniczek and repeated’I am a Catholic priest from Poland; I would like to take his place, because he has a wife and children.’

And so it was that Maximilian Kolbe too the place of the young Polish man with a wife and family, and was locked in a starvation bunker with others. Fr. Kolbe led the men in prayers and hymns, as one by one they slowly died. Two weeks passed. All except the priest were dead. It was decided that the bunker was needed for other things, and so the camp doctor was called in to inject the priest with carbolic acid. He died shortly thereafter.

And the man he saved, Franciszek Gajowniczek? He survived the war. He returned home to his wife, but their sons has perished. When Maximilian Kolbe was canonized in 1982 by then-Pope John Paul II, Gajowniczek was in attendance at St. Peter’s Square.

Why is St. Maximilian Kolbe so important to us today? He grew up a normal kid: he farmed and played with his brothers, helped in the shop his mother owned. He could be one of any of the millions of boys who came of age during World War II (or today for that matter.) He knew Mary wanted him as a priest for her Son, and Kolbe agreed. Then he used his talents and passions for spreading the Gospel. And when it came time for the hardest decision he ever had to make, he relied wholly on Jesus and his trust in the Blessed Mother. You can do this same this. We can. We must.

silent

Silent Saints: Knowing God Within

Some saints are prolific writers, and we treasure their works. Some, like Thomas Aquinas, help us understand the mystery of God better. Other saints, like Maximilian Kolbe, find ways to use media in a new way in order to spread the Gospel. Or think of Mother Angelica, who founded a Catholic television station and hosted a show.

And then, there are the silent saints.

The Gospels do not record one single word spoken by St. Joseph, the foster father of Jesus. We know him only by his actions. The Gospel of Matthew tells us he is a “righteous man,” and his tender care of Mary and the newborn Jesus bear that out. Most of this man’s life is hidden from us, including his thoughts and words. Yet he was chosen by God to raise the Son of God. This silent saint, who listened to God in the silence of his heart, tells us much about how to live our faith under trying circumstances.

Another silent saint is Mary.

Mary’s words are recorded in four passages in the Bible. Three of the four passages are from the Gospel of Luke: the Annunciation, when she speaks with the angel (Luke 1:34 and 38); her visit to Elizabeth, when Mary sings the psalm of praise known as the Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55); and the time that Jesus is lost in the Temple and Mary admonishes him (Luke 2:48).

We also find Mary speaking in the Gospel of John, during the story of the Wedding at Cana. She tells Jesus that there is no more wine (John 2:3) and then tells the servers, “Do whatever he tells you” (John 2:5) — which, as someone once told me, is perhaps the best bit of advice in the entire Bible.

Of course, the gospels also tell us that Mary kept many things in her heart to ponder. In the Holy Family, the quiet must have led them to great contemplation of God and His will for their lives. One wonders if this habit of silence was one of the reasons Jesus often left everything behind to go and pray by Himself.

St. John the Silent (his name tells you something, huh?) was born in 5th century Armenia. At the young age of 28, he was sought out by the archbishop to become a bishop, an assignment John did not want. However, he served for nine years, and then joined a monastery, seeking seclusion for prayer. It is recorded that, during his life, he spent 76 years in solitude.

Of course, Catholics have the great history of the monastic tradition: Trappists, Carmelites, Benedictines and other orders of men and women whose main focus is prayer and work, done mostly in silence. Why the silence? One monastic priest says:

In my daily work the habit of silence (I’ve been here 35 years) helps me to focus, even to put aside pre-occupying worries while I concentrate on a particular responsibility. That can be preparing the community’s meal, typing the entries for our website, hearing confessions, preparing a class for the novitiate, chanting the psalms at community prayers when I have a cold, whatever. But I have learned that I started out with certain powers of concentration, so I may not be too accurate here; I grew up in NYC and it’s second nature to me to block out background noise. But I can say that the habit of silence keeps me from seeking additional noise. I’m not uneasy when it’s very quiet or when I’m totally alone. But I don’t find silence making tasks easier to complete.

The silence does make me aware of my inner workings, however, what we call in the monastery, “self-knowledge.” I can’t pretend that I’m always a nice guy, always patient, always calm and receptive. I have to admit that I can be abrupt, cold to offenders, or would often prefer efficiency to the messiness of other people’s moods. Silence seems to keep me from idealizing myself.

St. Mary Clare, a Carmelite nun, acknowledges that the silence can be hard. Our world is so full of noise that silence can seem empty. We want to fill it with something. For monastics, however, the silence is quite different:

Through silence we become more deeply aware of the beauty, unity, goodness and truth all around us and within us. Through faith our whole outlook on life is changed. What used to appear as ordinary, temporal events, become reflections of these four attributes of God. These happenings become messages through which He speaks intimately to our hearts; moments of sublime personal contact with Infinite Love Itself.

Listening to the word in silence, faith and love, we hear the secret to our happiness and authentic personal fulfillment. Only in this do we truly begin to fill that deep void and satisfy the longing that consumes us as human persons.

Now it is true that most of us are not called to the monastic life. But we all need silence. Silence is the only way God can truly speak to us, just us, with our own unique message. Yes, we hear God in prayer and song and Scripture and in other’s voices, but … silence. Silence is where God dwells. If we want to know God, we must turn to silence.

But the word of the Lord came to him: Why are you here, Elijah? He answered: “I have been most zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts, but the Israelites have forsaken your covenant. They have destroyed your altars and murdered your prophets by the sword. I alone remain, and they seek to take my life.” Then the Lord said: Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord will pass by.

There was a strong and violent wind rending the mountains and crushing rocks before the Lord was not in the wind; after the wind, an earthquake—but the Lord was not in the earthquake; was not in the fire; after the fire, a light silent sound. (1 Kings 19:9-12)

Nobel

Mother Teresa: Nobel Peace Prize Recipient

In 1979, Mother Teresa of Kolkata was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. According to the Nobel Prize Committee:

… the Peace Prize is to go to whoever “shall have done the most or the best work for fraternity between nations, for the abolition or reduction of standing armies and for the holding and promotion of peace congresses”. The prize includes a medal, a personal diploma, and a large sum of prize money (currently 8 million Swedish crowns).

It was one of 124 prizes and awards she received over her 69 year religious life. As one might imagine, the tiny nun known for her work among the very poorest of the poor was not always thrilled with the recognition her work brought. She was always firm in telling people that it was not she who did the work, but God – always God.

Nevertheless, she traveled to Norway in 1979 to receive the Nobel Peace Prize. In her lecture upon receiving the prize, she asked those assembled to pray together. Then she reminded those assembled (and the world) that they should be open to the will of God in the same way the Virgin Mary was, and it was Mary’s willingness to serve God that brought the very Prince of Peace into our world.

And as if that was not enough – it was not enough to become a man – he died on the cross to show that greater love, and he died for you and for me and for that leper and for that man dying of hunger and that naked person lying in the street not only of Calcutta, but of Africa, and New York, and London, and Oslo – and insisted that we love one another as he loves each one of us. And we read that in the Gospel very clearly – love as I have loved you – as I love you – as the Father has loved me, I love you – and the harder the Father loved him, he gave him to us, and how much we love one another, we, too, must give each other until it hurts. It is not enough for us to say: I love God, but I do not love my neighbour.

She spoke of the accolades and recognition she and her Sisters had received for their work, but she was stalwart in pointing always to Christ. And then she challenged all those listening to seek out the poor in their lives; not necessarily the monetarily poor, but those who craved love. For this lack of love, she said, was the greatest poverty our world experiences.

Because today there is so much suffering – and I feel that the passion of Christ is being relived all over again – are we there to share that passion, to share that suffering of people. Around the world, not only in the poor countries, but I found the poverty of the West so much more difficult to remove. When I pick up a person from the street, hungry, I give him a plate of rice, a piece of bread, I have satisfied. I have removed that hunger. But a person that is shut out, that feels unwanted, unloved, terrified, the person that has been thrown out from society – that poverty is so hurtable and so much, and I find that very difficult. Our Sisters are working amongst that kind of people in the West. So you must pray for us that we may be able to be that good news, but we cannot do that without you, you have to do that here in your country. You must come to know the poor, maybe our people here have material things, everything, but I think that if we all look into our own homes, how difficult we find it sometimes to smile at each, other, and that the smile is the beginning of love.

This tiny woman from Kolkata was unafraid to speak of Christ and His love for each of us, even in front of the most finely-dressed and most prestigious people on the planet. She was also unafraid to force them to examine their own lives – even in uncomfortable ways – to follow Christ’s example of love for the poor, the unwanted, the outcast. Surely, her words are as true today as they were 37 years ago.

pick up your cross

When The Cross Gets Heavy, Help Someone Out

Christ tells us that we must pick up our crosses and follow Him. And so we do. Most of the time, we carry those crosses pretty well. Sure, it’s heavy. It’s not always convenient. There are people who blatantly tell us it’s a stupid thing to do: bear a cross for someone whose existence they say we cannot prove. But we carry on.

And then there are times when our cross gets so heavy our knees buckle. We fall. Our mouth is full of dust and dirt. We’ve skinned our knees and elbows. We lay there, under a cross that seems far too heavy for one person. We just don’t know if we can carry on.

Denise C. McAllister has some advice. When you see someone lying there, bloodied and exhausted, with their cross bearing down on them, help them. Pick up their cross, set it aside for a moment. Cleanse their wounds and offer a drink of water. Then, when they are ready, help them stand. Then carry their cross, along with yours, just for a bit, until they are able to take the weight of that cross back.

McAllister was raised by a Marine Corps father, who instilled in her a “get it done” attitude. But she knows that sometimes, we can’t “get it done” on our own:

[O]ftentimes in life, people need more. They need a different kind of encouragement. They need an advocate who will speak on their behalf, even against themselves and their own negative thoughts. They need someone to come alongside them and give them strength because they are empty, broken, poured out, and hopeless.

They don’t just need praise or inspirational slogans; they need someone to enter into their life in a personal way and fill them with courage. This involves getting to know them, reminding them of who they really are, comforting them with love, exhorting them, and counseling them. Bottom line, it takes active involvement from the encourager.

Americans tend to value hard work and the ability to accomplish things on our own. We romanticize cowboys: those men who take care of business, not needing help from anyone. Moms get a dose of guilt whenever they buy cupcakes for a class party instead of making them at home. Our kids are pushed into sports and band and reading clubs and study sessions because parents are afraid that without a healthy “resume,'” their kid won’t get into college. The careers we choose often define us, rather than being defined by our faith and character.

And we do work hard. Until we can’t.

Maybe it’s an illness. Maybe it’s a job, or lack of one. Maybe your kid has gone off the rails and you don’t know where to turn. Maybe it’s that we are so in debt we don’t know how we’ll ever be able to manage our finances.

That’s when we hit the dirt, face plant, with that cross on our back. And we cry out, “God, where are you?? I need help and I’m so alone. God!!!” We feel weak, lonely, forgotten. McAllister:

The need for encouragement is part of living in this world, and we aren’t doing one another any favors by not giving it. The Bible is full of exhortations to encourage one another. Why? Why not just say, “Rely on yourself” or only “Trust in God” (although there is that too). Why are there so many passages that say “encourage one another”? Because life is difficult, and it’s human to struggle, spiritually, physically, and emotionally.

We need our family and friends to build us up. We need our bosses to remind us of what we can really accomplish, inspiring us to greatness. We need our coaches, counselors, teachers, and pastors to come alongside us and spur us on with boldness and love. When we don’t have it, we flounder and fail, and even if we somehow overcome, we aren’t always happy and we’re certainly not humbled.

Asking for help, to say we’re in need, to say we just can’t do it alone is not weakness. That is probably one of the hardest things to do. Many people don’t ask, so those of us who can give need to be on the lookout for the needy, for the ones who are struggling and encourage them. Is there someone in your life who is downcast, angry, withdrawn, underperforming, overwhelmed? Why ignore them? Why think, “They’ll get it together on their own”—or worse, “It’s not my place to get involved. I did it alone; they’ll have to make it on their own too”?

We can do so much better. If there is someone in your life, either at school, work, church, in the neighborhood, and you know they are suffering or discouraged in some way, help them. You will be better for it, and so will they.

Today, if you need help with that cross, ask. Someone in your life will step up and help. And if someone today needs your help, then pick up their cross, along with yours, and walk alongside them until they are ready to carry it again themselves. Needing help is not weakness, and offering help is not being judgmental.

For I want you to know how great a struggle I am having for you … and all who have not seen me face to face, that their hearts may be encouraged as they are brought together in love, to have all the richness of fully assured understanding, for the knowledge of the mystery of God, Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. Col. 2:1-3

Assumption of Mary

Assumption Of Mary: Why Do We Celebrate This?

On August 15, Catholics celebrate the Assumption of Mary, a holy day of obligation. Normally, we would be obligated to attend Mass for this feast, but because this year it falls on a Monday, the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) has lifted the obligation. However, the faithful are still urged to attend Mass if it is possible.

What exactly is the Assumption of Mary and why do we celebrate it? There is often criticism from our Protestant brothers and sisters regarding this, as there is no place in the Bible we can point to and say, “Here it is! It really happened!” However, the Church has always been careful to warn the faithful against biblical “fundamentalism:”

…typified by unyielding adherence to rigid doctrinal and ideological positions—an approach that affects the individual’s social and political attitudes as well as religious ones. Fundamentalism in this sense is found in non-Christian religions and can be doctrinal as well as biblical. But in this statement we are speaking only of biblical fundamentalism, presently attractive to some Christians, including some Catholics.

While the Church teaches that the Bible is without error, there is also living Tradition that must be considered when studying Scripture. As Catholics, we trust our spiritual leaders, the bishops, to help us understand and apply Scriptural truths. While the Assumption of Mary is not recorded in Scripture, the Church has  vast historical knowledge regarding this early Christian celebration.

After the building of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in 336, the sacred sites began to be restored and memories of the life of Our Lord began to be celebrated by the people of Jerusalem. One of the memories about his mother centered around the “Tomb of Mary,” close to Mount Zion, where the early Christian community had lived.

On the hill itself was the “Place of Dormition,” the spot of Mary’s “falling asleep,” where she had died. The “Tomb of Mary” was where she was buried.

At this time, the “Memory of Mary” was being celebrated. Later it was to become our feast of the Assumption.

The dormition of Mary is a belief (but not a tenent of the Faith) that Mary did not suffer death, as death is a result of original sin. Since Mary was born without original sin, some theologians have concluded that Mary “fell asleep.” The use of the term “sleep” for “death” is well-documented in the New Testament.

So why do we celebrate Mary’s Assumption? From the Catechism of the Catholic Church:

After her Son’s Ascension, Mary “aided the beginnings of the Church by her prayers.” In her association with the apostles and several women, “we also see Mary by her prayers imploring the gift of the Spirit, who had already overshadowed her in the Annunciation.”

“Finally the Immaculate Virgin, preserved free from all stain of original sin, when the course of her earthly life was finished, was taken up body and soul into heavenly glory, and exalted by the Lord as Queen over all things, so that she might be the more fully conformed to her Son, the Lord of lords and conqueror of sin and death.” The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin is a singular participation in her Son’s Resurrection and an anticipation of the resurrection of other Christians:

In giving birth you kept your virginity; in your Dormition you did not leave the world, O Mother of God, but were joined to the source of Life. You conceived the living God and, by your prayers, will deliver our souls from death.

By her complete adherence to the Father’s will, to his Son’s redemptive work, and to every prompting of the Holy Spirit, the Virgin Mary is the Church’s model of faith and charity. Thus she is a “preeminent and . . . wholly unique member of the Church”; indeed, she is the “exemplary realization” of the Church.

Her role in relation to the Church and to all humanity goes still further. “In a wholly singular way she cooperated by her obedience, faith, hope, and burning charity in the Savior’s work of restoring supernatural life to souls. For this reason she is a mother to us in the order of grace.”

“This motherhood of Mary in the order of grace continues uninterruptedly from the consent which she loyally gave at the Annunciation and which she sustained without wavering beneath the cross, until the eternal fulfillment of all the elect. Taken up to heaven she did not lay aside this saving office but by her manifold intercession continues to bring us the gifts of eternal salvation . . . . Therefore the Blessed Virgin is invoked in the Church under the titles of Advocate, Helper, Benefactress, and Mediatrix. (para. 964-969)

In 2013, Pope Francis reminded the faithful that Mary “accompanies us, struggles with us, sustains Christians in their fight against the forces of evil.” Certainly that would be enough for us to want to celebrate this holy day. However, the Holy Father also said that the Faith we cherish is founded upon not a belief or an event, but a truth:

Our whole faith is based upon this fundamental truth which is not an idea but an event. Even the mystery of Mary’s Assumption body and soul is fully inscribed in the resurrection of Christ. The Mother’s humanity is “attracted” by the Son in his own passage from death to life. Once and for all, Jesus entered into eternal life with all the humanity he had drawn from Mary; and she, the Mother, who followed him faithfully throughout her life, followed him with her heart, and entered with him into eternal life which we also call heaven, paradise, the Father’s house.

As we look forward to this holy day, let us meditate upon all the riches the Church has given us regarding Mary. Let us turn to her in faith, asking her to intercede for us as we continue to seek Christ in all we do. His Mother will certainly aid us in this endeavor.

Olympics

2016 Olympics, Catholic-Style

The opening ceremonies for the 2016 Summer Olympics, being held in Rio, will have all the world watching. Our Holy Father has offered up a few thoughts on the Games:

In a world thirsting for peace, tolerance, and reconciliation, I hope that the spirit of the Olympic Games inspires all – participants and spectators – to ‘fight the good fight’ and finish the race together,” he said.

The Holy Father voiced hope that in competing this year, the Olympic athletes will desire “to obtain as a prize, not a medal, but something much more precious: the construction of a civilization in which solidarity reigns and is based upon the recognition that we are all members of the same human family, regardless of the differences of culture, skin color, or religion.”

While there will be favorites for many people, it is good to know that the Catholic Church will have a number of outstanding men and women representing the U.S. and their faith. One favorite is Simone Biles, a gymnast, who has the age of 19, has already won more gold medals than anyone else in the history of the sport. And although she cannot wear a rosary while competing, she says she often prays the rosary beforehand.

In fencing competition, watch for Katharine Holmes, who grew up attending the Shrine of the Most Blessed Sacrament in Washington, DC. When asked how her faith helped her train and prepare for competitions at the global level, Holmes replied:

Particularly this year while qualifying  for the Olympics, I had an almost ongoing conversation with God, constantly asking for reassurance and strength that I could do it, that I really could qualify, that I could keep going. When things were really getting rough, I remembered a line from ‘Chariots of Fire’ in which, when talking about running, Eric Liddell said, ‘God made me  for a purpose, but He also made me fast. When I run, I feel His pleasure.’ This is largely how I feel about my fencing. God gave me such a gift through and in this sport and in following my dreams, I feel as if I am living the life He wished for me, utilizing all that He blessed me with.

Katie Ledecky is part of the incredibly successful U.S. swim team; She holds a slew of records, and this year will be competing in the 200, 400, and 800-meter freestyle. She is very grateful for the support she has received from the parish communities and her Catholic teachers.

My Catholic faith is very important to me. It always has been and it always will be. It is part of who I am and I feel comfortable practicing my faith. It helps me put things in perspective.

I do say a prayer – or two – before any race. The Hail Mary is a beautiful prayer and I find that it calms me.

Joe Maloy competes in the Olympic triatholon, and recently posted on his Facebook page: My … Catholic teachers, coaches and classmates taught me what it meant to have faith, to work for ideals, and to use that work to make the world a little better.”

While not competing, Fr. Leandro Lenin Tavares will be an important part of the Olympic games for the Rio athletes. He is coordinating the very first interreligious center at the Olympic village.

We hope that the center will encourage harmony and unity among different countries and among different religions,” Father Tavares told Catholic News Service.

He said the center would be open from 7 a.m. to 10 p.m., seven days a week, from July 24-Aug. 24 for Olympic athletes and their delegations and Sept. 1-21 for Paralympic athletes and delegations.

The center will have five meeting rooms, each occupied by one of the five faiths chosen by the International Olympic Committee: Christianity, Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism and Islam. The Catholic Church will represent the Christian faith.

The center will host not only group meetings and Masses but also will offer individual guidance to those who seek religious support.

In the Catholic space, Masses will be held in Spanish, Portuguese and English on a daily basis, but Father Tavares said there would be priests who speak also French and Italian, for individual or group support. He said some delegations have chosen to bring with them their own religious leader, and that they will also be able to use the interreligious center for their spiritual needs.

Let us pray that all the athletes are able to compete safely, with great comradery, and that the Catholic Olympians in particular are good ambassadors for the Faith. May they all remember the words of St. Paul, who reminds us that we all have a race to run: toward Heaven:

For I am already being poured out like a libation, and the time of my departure is at hand.I have competed well; I have finished the race;I have kept the faith.
From now on the crown of righteousness awaits me, which the Lord, the just judge, will award to me on that day,and not only to me, but to all who have longed for his appearance. (2 Tim: 4:6-8)