Catholic Life Ministries

By Robert Fontana

Lent is here and “Spring is in the air.”

Ahhhh, what a great time of the year. Fasting from meat on Fridays and going to fish fries on Friday nights; attending Stations of the Cross on Mondays in March and rushing home just in time for watching the latest game in March Madness; and coping with the last days of darkness, rain, and winter with time for a walk through the cherry tree blossoms at University of Washington.  Oh, of course, we pause from the solemnity of Lent on St. Patrick’s Day for some good Irish music, Irish beer, and Irish stew (or corned beef and cabbage if that’s your preference).

Lent is here alongside the rest of life’s happenings. Lent can easily become one of many Spring rituals that lead us to that wonderful Easter Day where we co-mingle the celebration of the resurrection of Jesus with the resurrection of the earth: Easter vigil and hunt for Easter eggs; baptisms of new members of the church and decorating the home with tulips and daffodils; Good Friday fasting and Easter Sunday feasting, with lots of chocolate.

What keeps Lent from simply becoming part of the cultural decorations of Winter as it becomes Spring? Lent has real meaning, of course, only when we use this season as a challenge to conform our lives to the life and teachings of Jesus and the Holy Spirit. This is complex. Jesus is both compassionate towards us in our weaknesses and demanding towards us as his disciples.

Jesus meets each of us exactly where we are in the spiritual life, and invites us to grow and mature, to gain a greater interior freedom to love God and neighbor. Certain aspects of Jesus’ teachings and actions will confront one person, while another person, reading the very same verse, may be unmoved.

That brings me to the Biblical text that confronts me this Lent:

Why do you notice the splinter in your brother’s eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me remove that splinter from your eye,’ while the wooden beam is in your eye? You hypocrite, remove the wooden beam from your eye first; then you will see clearly to remove the splinter from your brother’s eye. (Matthew 7:3-5)

I don’t know about you, but the older I get, the bigger that beam seems to be! In fact, it’s not one beam, it’s several beams tied tightly together.

As I have learned over the years, an indication that I have a “beam” or many of them stuck in my eyes and need to do some self-reflection on why they are there and how to remove them, is how I instinctively react to a certain situation, news report, comment from a friend or stranger, etc. My gut reactions that are defensive, that insist on an immediate response, explanation or even retaliation, are clear evidence that the major problem here is in me and not the other person or event.

Learning to pay attention to myself and my reactions to life to identify how I want to change or mature has been a long and slow process. I was introduced to this method in self-awareness while training to be a chaplain at Fircrest, a school for the severely mentally handicapped in Seattle. I was assigned to work with residents who had the cognitive ability of a small child and could not verbalize their needs.

What was my reaction to working with these folks who seemed to be trapped in big bodies with little ability for self-care? FEAR! I did not know how to be me with them. I was worried about doing the wrong thing and afraid of dealing with their tantrums or other forms of acting out.

I brought these issues to my supervisor and small group, initially saying that I was probably in the wrong place. I did not belong here. “No,” said my wise teacher, “you are in the right place because these people are going to teach you to let go of your fears, let go of your ego that wants to accomplish something, and let go of your timeframe and slow down. You are not here as much to learn about working with this population of people but so these beautiful people can teach you to learn about yourself. Being here and learning about your fears and anxieties will teach you how to let go of these so that you can be with these people as they need you to be with them.”

That training lasted for four months in the Summer of 1990. I have been trying to practice the lessons my differently abled friends taught me ever since.

Lent challenges me, not so much to look at my sins and say, “Mea culpa,” although there is that aspect of Lent. It has me asking Jesus,

“What’s the beam in my eye that needs to be looked at and removed in this situation, in this relationship?”

At the end of each day, I try to do what the Jesuits describe as an examen of conscience. I review my day and try to name moments – encounters or situations – that evoked an emotional response. What happened? What were my emotions? Where did they come from? What biases, prejudices, sinful inclinations and/or painful memories do they tap into? What is the Spirit telling me through these moments? How am I being invited to mature, to grow?

Of course, the day may have also presented positive moments and emotions. I examine these in the same way.

It may be that I need to speak to someone about something he or she did that I found hurtful or that I didn’t understand. But before I do so, I want to reflect and call on God’s grace to take the “beam” out of my eye before I take the “speck” out of his/hers.

By Robert Fontana

Lent is fast approaching. And in Providential irony, Ash Wednesday is also St. Valentine’s Day (February 14). How about that for a divine challenge! Ash Wednesday invites us to fast, pray, and give alms. St. Valentine’s Day invites us to splurge on dinner, show love to those we love, and give flowers and lots of chocolate. And it follows that other day of great splurging – Fat Tuesday aka Mardi Gras. The last big “let the good times roll” before the disciplines of Lent take hold (with exceptions, of course, for St. Patrick and St. Joseph feast days).

However you resolve the dilemma of Ash Wednesday’s coinciding with St. Valentine’s Day, prepare yourself now for the spiritual journey you want to take during the great 40 days of Lent. On this retreat we followers of Jesus are invited to encounter the Lord with all the honesty and authenticity that we can muster. If we do this, if we sincerely prepare ourselves to encounter Jesus anew, it can be a wild and crazy ride because Jesus does not fit neatly into our liberal – conservative categories.

We don’t get the Jesus we want. We get the Jesus we need.

Keep in mind, the Jesus who said,

“Come to me all you who are weary, and I will give you rest,” (Mt 11:28)

is the same Jesus who said,

“Do not think that I have come to bring peace upon the earth. I have come to bring not peace but the sword. For I have come to set a man ‘against his father, a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one’s enemies will be those of his household.’” (Mt 10:34)

At first glance it might seem Jesus is being schizophrenic, a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. However, most parents, teachers and anyone who cares for children and youth know that we must do this delicate balancing act of “comforting and afflicting (or challenging) our children all the time.

For example, your son, trying to impress a girl with his driving skills, backs into a car. The other car has very little damage but the rear of your car is crushed. Your son, with tears in his eyes, comes to tell you what happened. You, of course, are glad that no one was hurt and feel bad for your son who clearly shows remorse. You hold him in your arms, tell him you love him, remind him that cars can be fixed and that you are glad he is alright. He feels consoled, cared for, and comforted. The “afflicted is comforted.” He is reminded that he is absolutely loved no matter what!

But wait, that’s not the end of it. You look your son in the eyes and say, “Of course, you will have to pay for the repair out of your work money.”

He looks at you with horror in his eyes. Six months later, after making his last payment to you for the repair of the rear hatchback, he says, “I sure hate making money at my job and handing it directly to you.” 

The “comfortable” has been “afflicted.” He needed to be held accountable for his behavior and accept the appropriate consequences so that he could mature and grow into a wise, thoughtful, and healthy contributor to society.

Something similar happens when we encounter Jesus in an honest authentic way. We do not simply get the Jesus we want, the One who consoles and comforts us, we get the Jesus we need, who wants us to learn from our mistakes, hurt, conflict. For example:

Charlie goes to see Fr. John because he is having marital problems. Fr. John greets him with great compassion, listens to his pain, and offers him a safe place to unload. The “afflicted” has been “comforted.“

Fr. John, being a wise spiritual director, also invites Charlie to examine his role in the conflict. Charlie admits that he’s been under a lot of pressure at work, has been drinking too much at home, and that his wife complains of being hurt and neglected. Now Fr. John gets to ask Charlie, who’s an active Catholic, “Are you the person you want to be in this marriage? Are you being the husband and father that you want to be in Christ?” The comforter has now become the afflicter (in a loving and kind way).

Charlie thinks about it.  “No, I’m not being the person I want to be.”

“Well, who is that person you want to be in this marriage and family? And what are you doing that’s getting in the way of your being the husband and father you want to be and can be?

There’s silence. Fr. John lets it sit there for a while then says, “Tell me about your relationship with alcohol.” And for the first time in his life Charlie admits that he can’t manage his drinking. It’s out of  control.

If Fr. John had offered only comfort, it would have allowed Charlie to hide behind Fr. John’s kindness and care. He would not have been challenged to mature, to grow up and take responsibility for his part in the conflict at home nor to make a realistic assessment of his drinking habits. This is not uncommon. Many active Catholics, Protestants, and Evangelicals use religious practices and friends to hide from the difficult and complex issues that keep them from maturing into healthy adults. They turn to Jesus for comfort but do not stick around for the “affliction/challenge” that they need to grow and mature in faith.

The beautiful thing is that when Jesus does “afflict” us, he walks with us every step of the way as we take a hard look at ourselves, address the issues within that are keeping us from growing in faith, and find the courage to mature.

Whatever your Lenten plan is, draw close to Jesus, receiving both his comfort and his “affliction.” In your prayer, at worship, with a spiritual companion or director, bring your struggles, your questions, your fears to Jesus. Allow Jesus to bless you with tender love and guide you along a path of life in the Trinity.

By Robert Fontana   

(reprint from 1/31/2016)

Faith can be fun for kids and adults alike.  In fact, if it is not fun some of the time, even for us older folks, faith will lose its power to touch our imaginations and enrich our lives.  One way to keep faith fun in the home is to select a few of your favorite saints – perhaps those saints with whom your children share a name or with whom your family has a cultural connection – and plan to celebrate their feast days in your home with good food, a children’s version of the saint’s story, and some sort of prayer ritual.

We Fontanas like to observe the Feasts of St. Joseph (March 19) who is the  patron saint of Italy, St. Clare (August 11) and St. Francis (Oct 5), and of course, our Irish patrons (Lori’s side of the family) saints Patrick (March 17) and Brigid (Feb 1). 

St. Brigid’s feast day is Thursday, February 1, which, in Ireland, also marks the first day of Spring.  So on St. Brigid’s Day we are going to gather with family for some good Irish stew and some good Irish faith-fun, including the  following prayer service:

Begin with this Prayer to St. Brigid

Saint Brigid, daughter of Ireland and lover of Jesus, draw us by your prayers into the living flame of God’s love.  Help us to clean our hearts and homes of all that is selfish and sinful.  Pray that we will be attentive to the poor and spiritually abandoned, that we will practice the Beatitudes in good times and bad, and that the warmth of God’s love will animate all that we say and do.

Each member of the home then takes a bandanna, handkerchief, or even a cloth napkin in hand and walks through the house, dusting the furniture, TV, books, and lamps, etc. singing “Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.”

When the house has been thoroughly dusted, all go outside and tie the cloths on the branches of a shrub or tree (or porch railing).  Then together, pray this prayer:

All:  St. Brigid, come this day to our home and hearts; come by the power of God and be our guest.  And help us, dear Brigid, to wipe away the dust of too much “me, and my, and mine” that we might love others with a selfless heart.  We pray this in the name of Jesus.  Amen. 

Our Father…

Return to the house for dessert (Irish mint ice cream!)

By Robert Fontana

Jesus lives in my neighborhood. I do not mean to shock you with this fact, but I don’t like him. When I see Neighbor Jesus coming towards me or find myself walking towards him, I want to avoid any interaction. Neighbor Jesus is nothing like the Bible Jesus I see depicted in movies, hear about in sermons and homilies, or even imagine in my own mind. Bible Jesus is awesome! He is a great storyteller, welcomes children, loves animals and nature, challenges hypocritical religious leaders, and comforts the sick and the sorrowful.

I like Bible Jesus. But Neighbor Jesus, that’s another story.

Neighbor Jesus lives in the green space near our home that is about one-half mile long and maybe 100 yards wide. The green space begins at Cowen Park which has a large open meadow and playground. The green space continues east forming a deep ravine with a flowing stream and lush trees and ferns on either side. It concludes at Ravenna Park with a ballfield and playground which give the green space its popular name, Ravenna Ravine.

At a random point anywhere between the two parks, Neighbor Jesus will find a spot to call home and settle in. Sometimes this means he brings in a tent along with a collection of items I assume are stolen from people’s yards and nearby stores. These items get strewn around his tent along with milk cartons, food wrappings, plastic bags, and other garbage. And, yes, when Neighbor Jesus leaves one spot to move to another, he leaves his former spot a mess for someone else to clean up.

Neighbor Jesus is nice enough, though I have heard some angry outbursts from him on occasion. We do exchange pleasantries when we cross paths. Lori and I have “friendship bags” prepared for people whom we encounter who do not have homes. These bags contain soft food items, socks, sweet treats, and a handout with information about how to access nearby shelters. We’ve given Neighbor Jesus a number of these, plus I often bring him coffee and occasionally an egg sandwich. He is grateful for these kindnesses.

I confess I don’t like continuing to give him these friendship bags because I do not want him to stay in the area. I certainly do not want him to know where I live and have him come knock on my door asking for help. And I don’t want to be picking up all the “trash” from the Friendship Bag that I gave him only a few days ago.

I walk through the Ravenna Ravine 3-4 times a week for my prayer time. I walk through the beautiful and diverse trees to spend time with Bible Jesus whom I like…and I do not want to encounter Neighbor Jesus. I do not like finding him sprawled out under a tree or hanging out on a bench asking me for a “cuppa coffee.” He ruins my time with Bible Jesus! He’s such an inconvenience!

Just today we had such an encounter. I was polite enough as I spoke to Neighbor Jesus who was just waking up, huddled beneath a tarp, obviously freezing cold in the 19-degree weather overnight. Yes, he asked me for coffee, and I said, “No, sorry, I don’t have any.” Which was true; I wasn’t carrying any coffee with me. But what I was really saying was, “Don’t interrupt my time with Bible Jesus! I only have so much time, and I don’t want to use it up on you, Neighbor Jesus.”

Predictably, as I walked away and turned my attention to Bible Jesus, I felt uncomfortable. I could hear Bible Jesus reminding me of a key passage from Scripture, “When I was hungry…sick… imprisoned…naked…you comforted me.” And then I heard a voice in my head/heart say, “There is little difference between Bible Jesus and Neighbor Jesus. Neighbor Jesus is what Bible Jesus looks like crucified, crucified by who knows what. Childhood trauma? Severe addiction? Terrible decisions? All of the above? Perhaps he has a criminal record? Perhaps he has burned all his family relationships? What is yours to do now?”

I walked back to Neighbor Jesus whose birth name is Jay and asked if he still wanted that coffee. “Yeah,” he replied, sitting up. “And you got one of them bags with stuff for me?”

“Wait here,” I said. And I walked back home to get hot coffee, an egg sandwich, and yet another Friendship Bag for my Neighbor Jesus.

By Robert Fontana

Every human being is a child of God, endowed with gifts to enable him or her to be a power for good in the world. At this time in history of great polarization, tribalism, and war, it is essential that we resolve to be the change in the world that will truly contribute to the common good. Here are a few suggestions:

1. Pray to the Holy Spirit every day for the grace to be alert to how you can be a power for good within the  relationships, commitments ,and circumstances of your life, especially in the home and at work.

2. Cultivate silence in your day, 10-20 minutes of silence, to slowly learn to grow in self-awareness and to learn to listen with the ears of the heart.

3. Pray with and befriend a faith community different from your own. If you are an active Christian, consider meeting with a local Muslim, Hindu, or Jewish community. Be curious about what they believe and how this impacts how they live. As appropriate, share your own story of faith, and look for what you hold in common.

4. Make a commitment to be in nature 2-3 times (at least!) a month. Psychotherapists are increasingly urging clients to spend time in nature as a method for calming one’s anxieties and as an anecdote to depression. Nature has an enormous healing capacity for those open to it. This means time in nature (it could be your garden) to listen, feel the breezes and wind, and simply gaze at its beauty, rather than always doing the more active pursuits of hiking, skiing, and biking. Most people are “nature starved.” For Catholics, nature is a sacrament capable of revealing the hidden presence of God.

5. Strengthen the bonds with the primary people in your life. If you are married, work on your      marriage. If you have children, have family meals throughout the week, and family time without electronics.  Single or married, be intentional in spending time with those people who help you be your best self.

6. Lastly, during this election year, commit yourself to protecting democracy at home and abroad. This is not a partisan resolution. Whatever your politics, protecting democracy is essential for protecting religious freedom, freedom of the press, freedom to gather, and other freedoms outlined in the U. S. Constitution. To quote Winston Churchill: ‘Many forms of Government have been tried, and will be tried in this world of sin and woe. No one pretends that democracy is perfect or all-wise. Indeed it has been said that democracy is the worst form of Government except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.…’

By Kathleen Kichline

There are times in our lives and times in our world when Matthew’s telling is a more accurate rendering, when the circumstances Matthew describes resonate with our own  experience. Matthew speaks of troubling dreams, Herod killing the children of Nazareth, and a family fleeing under the   cover of darkness to seek refuge in a foreign land. This, too, is Christmas. It is “Christmas, The Rest of the Story.” 

If we only focus on the familiar, beloved Lukan version, we can limit the manger to a gathering place for the wide-eyed child, for those singing “Joy to the World,” and for families reunited for the holidays. But   Christmas is also for the one who just buried a loved one, for the parent who cannot afford food for their child—let alone a gift—for the sick, the confused, the addicted, and for those with nowhere to sleep that night. These may not recognize themselves in the perfection of the Lukan story, one we have painted over in the warm glow of Norman Rockwell scenes. The stark simplicity of the original telling has been spiced with gingerbread and peppermint, transferred to a snowy clime, plumped with festivities and food, and turned into a scene that resembles a Hallmark greeting card, a scene that painfully excludes those whose lives look nothing like that, whose lives are less than perfect, those, in fact, who are most in need.

What if the story were told instead of a father awakened by a nightmare to sit bolt  upright in bed, cold with fear. Only it was no nightmare; it was warning, and it was real. He knew because the angel had warned him before and could be trusted. Evil, dangerous men were coming in search of his wife and his child, intent on murdering them in their beds. He only had time to awaken them,  gather a few things, and flee into the night. 

Guided by stars and perhaps more dreams, he leaned into the desert winds, looking over his shoulder, and shielding his family. They left all that they knew, uncertain of when or if they would return, and they descended into the foreign land of an ancient enemy, there to seek refuge and hide among those they did not know. And amid all that chaos, the story reaches its climax…that in the middle of all the chaos, God was with them. 

Maybe if you have had cold sweats, have feared for your life or your child’s, have owned nothing more than what you could pack on your back, maybe if you have heard your neighbors’ screams in the night, have left behind family and friends, are alone, hungry and tired and aching, maybe you would hear this story and think, “Yes, that man is me. That story is like mine.” And when you heard the punchline, “God was with them,” you would be startled and look around to see if God could also be with you. 

That might become your Christmas story, at least for this year. Once upon a time, you would say, when my life was in peril and at its worst, God was with me. That is what Emmanuel means, God-with-us. And that Christmas story would become your own.  

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This article comes from Kathleen’s book, WHY THESE WOMEN? TAMAR, RAHAB, RUTH, AND BATHSHEBA (pp. 139-140); used with her permission. You can buy it on Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/Why-These-Women-Stories-Before/dp/B09R2WRK8W. Better yet, go to your local book store and ask them to order it for you!

Many Catholics and other Christians do not celebrate the great feast of Epiphany which commemorates when the “Magi from the East” visited Bethlehem and the Christ child. They follow the secular trend of ending the Christmas celebration on Christmas Day or shortly thereafter. They might sing the popular Christmas carol, The Twelve Days of Christmas, but they do not understand its meaning. The title of the song refers to the 12 days between Christmas and Epiphany. Here’s what Wikipedia writes about this time period:

In many Western ecclesiastical traditions, Christmas Day is considered the “First Day of Christmas” and the Twelve Days are 25 December – 5 January, inclusive, making Twelfth Night on 5 January, which is Epiphany Eve. In some customs, the Twelve Days of Christmas are counted from sundown on the evening of 25 December until the morning of 6 January, meaning that the Twelfth Night falls on the evening 5 January and the Twelfth Day falls on 6 January.

We have a special family gathering on the Feast of Epiphany. It’s when we exchange gifts with one another, have a great meal together, make crowns of the Three Kings for all to wear, play games and sing carols. And to help us countdown from Christmas to Epiphany we have this prayer ritual at dinner for the Twelve Days of Christmas:

1. Light three candles representing the gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Pray the following prayer together:
2. To Bethlehem we travel with the Magi from the East, across the days of Christmas to the Epiphany Feast. Give us the courage of the Magi as we begin our search for you. Give us the eyes of the Magi that we might see the star that leads us too. And when we get to Bethlehem on that Holy Epiphany Day, give us the heart of the Magi that humbles us to pray.

Plan a fun gathering for your family and friends for Epiphany on January 6, 2024. Happy Christmas – Epiphany season!

By Robert Fontana

I love you, O beautiful tree of Christmas. You enrich my life and the lives of all who gaze upon you in wonder and delight.

Your coming was awaited with childlike anticipation. And when you arrived, the busyness of the house stopped so all could welcome you. Treats were shared and wine was poured as you took your place in the corner of the family room, an honored guest.

You are lovely in your simplicity. Still, we dressed you with a string of lights that glow like fireflies in the night. Then your magic began, for it seems you are some sort of mystical portal to the past. I can see my father toasting his sons with a glass of Mogan and David and my mother, cigarette dangling from her mouth, laying tinsel strand by strand on the Christmas tree of my childhood.

Other memories emerge as we grace your branches with ornaments, some homemade, some gifted, some in honor of the holy event we commemorate, and some as playful as a toy plane, a doll, or an elf from Santa’s workshop. With each adornment, stories are shared. With each sharing, new images from the past flow around us: cousin Wade running in from the outside delirious with joy; my brothers in their red Boys Choir blazers preparing for midnight Mass; and friends gathered around the piano to sing “Sister Mary Had a-But One Child” to Mom’s accompaniment.

O Christmas Tree, I see in you all the Christmas trees of my past, from the great pine my brother John and I cut down and dragged into the family living room, to the silver one that shone brightly at Grandma’s house, to the very first tree of our marriage, a “tree” that Lori and I created from cast-off boughs collected at the Christmas tree lot because we could not afford even the $10 for the smallest tree.

We have gathered our children around you, and now our grandchildren, all in memory of the God of love who sent us Jesus to teach us how to love. You, O Christmas Tree, have been a sacrament of this season, a source of beauty and unity of past and present. And like the Christ-child who will give his life for all of creation, you give your life so that we may celebrate these days in the grace of your presence.

I do love you, O Christmas Tree, and I thank you!

By Robert Fontana

I shared a bedroom with two brothers, Francis (older) and John (younger). On Christmas Eve, we three Santa Claus believers were on high alert listening for any signs of St. Nicholas. I clearly remember one night when we almost jumped out of our pajamas believing we had heard the jingle of bells outside, signaling the arrival of Santa and his sleigh. We rushed to the window and scanned the sky for signs of Santa. (Can you guess which one I am in the photo below?)

I’m not sure when we learned that Santa was just a fun story and the gifts that showed up after Midnight Mass came from Mom and Dad. But in that transition, I learned that the real reason for the “Christ – Mass” at midnight was the birth of God’s beloved Son, Jesus. That story carried me for a while with a child’s faith. I said my prayers at night – Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory Be – and during every football game my brothers played in.

My child’s faith, which was basically the faith of my parents, was transformed into my own personal faith when I was in 8^th grade. Mom and Dad had been having marriage trouble. Rather than going to divorce court, they went to a prayer meeting; and each had a personal experience of Jesus that changed their lives. Their transformation transformed me. Dad shared his faith with me, and I had a burning in my heart to know God’s love and friendship as he did.

That made all the difference in my high school years. I struggled with all the same adolescent issues that others did, e.g. self-esteem, friendships, siblings, parental approval, sexual discipline, girls, college, academic challenges, athletic challenges, and developing the coping skills to handle all the emotional issues that come with teen life. Faith in Jesus offered me a healthy way to manage these difficult emotions and saved me from “going off the deep end.”

Not so for some of my friends who did not have the experience of faith that I had and coped with teenage life by dabbling in drugs, drinking, and sex. By the time college came around, these ways of coping were ingrained habits that nearly killed them. Thankfully, some found a path towards sobriety and loving relationships later in life. I believe I was protected from a similar path by God’s grace, and the Catholic Christian friends that I was meeting through the high school retreat program called Search.

I learned early on that “I wasn’t good because I loved God,” to quote Fr. Richard Rohr, “I was good because God loved me.” And I needed God’s love and the love of friends to continue working at being good and doing good. That was true in my youth, and it is true today. Pastor Rick Warren, the founder of Saddleback Church, once said, “Under the right circumstance I’m capable of any sin and, so are you.” When I heard that, I said to myself, “and so am I.”

I need Jesus and a community of faith in my life to help me live a healthy, holy, humane life this side of heaven. In fact, this is one of the reasons for Christmas. Jesus, God’s beloved Son, born of Mary, came to give men and women a better way to live, as summarized in the Great Commandment: love of God and love of neighbor. In following the Jesus way of living, we get a taste of heaven before heaven. Not perfectly, not without pain and suffering. Yet, the path of faith, hope, and love, embraced as a way of life, does yield the fruits of the Spirit described by Paul in Galatians, “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” Wouldn’t that be a taste of heaven if we had these qualities as a pattern for our lives?

That brings me to Christmas. Jesus is the reason for Christmas, and his legacy of unselfish love of neighbor animates this time of the year even in its secular form. We see the evidence beyond the lights and glitter of commercial Christmas: family and friends laying aside hurts and grudges and gathering in homes for song and merriment; Salvation Army and St. Vincent de Paul volunteers collecting money, toys, and clothing for those in need; neighbors reaching out to each other with a plate of cookies or gingerbread; and strangers offering one another a cheery “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays.”

The power of Christmas to animate the culture was most eloquently expressed in Charles Dicken’s story A Christmas Carol.

Scrooge, arguing with his nephew Fred about Christmas, is emphatic that Christmas, because it has not made Fred a richer man, has done him no good. Here is Fred’s response:

“There are many things from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say, Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round, — apart from the veneration due to its sacred origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that, — as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow travelers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, Uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!”

I need Christmas, and so do you. “God bless it!”

PS: I’m the one wearing the goggles. Francis is sitting next to my dad. John is the little guy with the white shoes.

During the months of lockdown in the pandemic, one benefit we enjoyed was that Robert and I grew in our  appreciation of the Chaplet form of prayer. We prayed the Divine Mercy Chaplet with family members and friends over Zoom. Soon we discovered the sung version of this chaplet, which I especially enjoy praying and singing through.

Eventually, Robert developed our own simpler form of the chaplet type of prayer, calling it the Chaplet of Divine Friendship. The format is very similar to other chaplets, with an introductory prayer, the antiphon chanted before each of the five “decades,” and the ten repetitive short prayers, prayed in the call and response pattern.

The chaplet prayer has much in common with the rosary. Its repetition allows for calm reflection. It doesn’t require a lot of thinking but rather touches the heart and the  spirit. This is one reason why I appreciate this form of prayer so much – when I pray / sing the chaplet, my  worries are pushed to the side. My anxious thoughts are drowned out by the simple declarations of faith in the chaplet’s prayers. Praying the chaplet helps me in my  everyday life. It is a form of contemplative prayer.

I pray it when I’m driving – I can hum the prayer and still pay close attention to the crazy Seattle traffic. I pray it when I’m waiting – in grocery check-out lines or at a grandchild’s soccer practice. I pray it when I’m walking to the post office or library, when I’m worrying about a  problem as I wash the dishes or clean the bathroom, when I awake in the night and can’t sleep. Increasingly, I’ve been intentional about turning to this simple prayer because I KNOW it’s so much better, so much more productive than complaining or ruminating or drowning in “what if’s.”

We hope that you will take a look at the Chaplet of Divine Friendship which we’ve recorded at this YouTube link:  https://youtu.be/xX_idGXc-20

Try it for Advent. Use your rosary to help you keep count of the chaplet decades. May it be a help to you, a calming, encouraging reminder of the great love of Jesus for YOU.

An Advent Spiritual Practice: The Chaplet of Divine Friendship_________________________________________

Opening Prayer – In the name of the Father…Abba Father, Lord of heaven and earth, you created woman and man in your image and likeness and planted them in the garden of earth to love one another and to care for the flora and fauna of the earth. You did not leave them alone but walked alongside them as you walked alongside our biblical ancestors Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, and Jacob and Rachel. And in the fullness of time, you sent your beloved Son Jesus, to be not merely our Lord and Savior, but our friend. Jesus said, “I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you.” (John 15:15) (5 decades)

All– Abba Father, so loved the world, he gave His only Son, not to condemn the world but to save everyone, to save everyone.

Leader – Jesus our brother, kind and good (10 x’s)

All – I trust in you, I trust in you.

After the 5^th decade:

Closing Prayer: Abba Father, Lord of heaven and earth, thank you for giving us Jesus as our friend and brother.  Help us to return His friendship by being attentive to the Holy Spirit’s working in our lives and in the world and having the courage to follow the Spirit’s prompting always. In the name of the Father…