Thursday marked the Feast Day of Sts. Joachim and Anne.
These two Saints represent the parents of Our Blessed Mother, although neither is mentioned in the Bible itself.
Now before you are too impressed that I knew that, I should probably come clean. I only know this because I read The Saint of the Day, and they happened to be the feature two days ago. Sadly, the truth is that I forgot all about them.
In fact, as I read the tribute to them, I started to feel embarrassed that I never ponder what good parents they were to Mary. The lessons they must have taught her. The strength they must have given her. The role they played in our Salvation. Nope, instead, I jump right from God to Gabriel to Mary to Jesus.
But then, at the end of the summary, was this:
Joachim and Anne—whether these are their real names or not—represent that entire quiet series of generations who faithfully perform their duties, practice their faith and establish an atmosphere for the coming of the Messiah, but remain obscure.
And then, it dawned on me how many Joachims and Annes there have been throughout Christianity. Thousands of Holy people that did simple things like passing on a tradition, teaching the faith, or proclaim God's word. People that will never make a holy book. Will never have 15 minutes of fame. Will never be revered.
People I will never think about or appreciate.
And yet, they hold a special place in God's heart. They carry out His will, spread His word, and proclaim His kingdom.
Heck, given that, maybe someday, someone will forget about us, too.
God Bless.
I've mentioned before that I like to listen to the Rosary on long car rides.
One of the versions I have on CD recites a few passages of scripture at each Mystery, and I have found it really helps me think about, and reflect on, each decade.
The other day, as I was listening to the Sorrowful mysteries, the passage about Pilate offering to release Jesus or Barabbas came on.
Lots of visuals pop in my head every time I hear that passage. But the other day I imagined I was in that crowd. I could hear the loud, violent shouts for Barabbas. I could feel the anger and the chaos. I could see the sorrow on the face of our Lord.
And I wondered ...
I wondered what I would have done, had I known the full Story that those folks didn't.
I asked myself ... If I was standing there, knowing that Jesus' death meant my Salvation ... wouldn't I have rooted for Pilate to release Barabbas, too?
I know. It sounds horrible. And selfish. And I felt ashamed I even thought of it.
And then, in the pool of my embarrassment, I felt His great, unselfish, unwavering Love.
God Bless.
Did you know that the concept of a zero place value did not get introduced to the West until around the 12th century?
That is why, for example, the Bible tells us Jesus was in the tomb for 3 days.
Good Friday is Day 1, Saturday is Day 2, Easter Sunday is Day 3.
In today's day in age, we would have counted Saturday as Day 1 because we use a zero place value for the current day.
I know, I know, "Thanks for 'nothing', Michael."
God Bless.
We celebrate John the Baptist's feast day June 24th because we know he was conceived 6 months before Christ.
Nothing earth-shattering there.
But last week I heard the relation to the solstices for the first time. (Bear with me if I'm the last to figure this out!)
John's feast day is very close to the summer solstice - the longest, brightest day of the year in the northern hemisphere. There are many analogies one can draw from that (ie, John blazed the path to Jesus, shone the light towards Him, etc).
But ironically (or planned?), just as John said he must decrease - so Jesus could increase - each day after the summer solstice gets a bit shorter and a bit darker.
Until, of course, we get to the winter solstice, which ironically (or planned?) is right about when we celebrate the birth of our Savior.
After that, every day gets a bit longer and a bit brighter!
God Bless.
All the celebrating of St. John the Baptist this weekend got me thinking ...
What if he acted like us?
What if, instead of shouting the famous "Behold, the lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world!", he said:
"Psst ... see that Guy? He might be the Christ, but I'm not sure. Let's wait and see if He gives us any proof."
or
"Hey guys ... huddle up for a minute ... see that Guy over there? He is the Savior. Now, don't say anything because we don't want to offend anyone, okay?"
or
"Wow, look, it's the Son of God! I have to go do a couple of things, but hopefully He is still here when I'm done."
or
"Jesus! You have finally come to us! Here is a list of all the things I would like ..."
Thank goodness Jesus had St. John, instead of us, as His original herald.
But the truth is, the Lord still needs us to proclaim to the world that He is here.
Just better than we are doing now ...
God Bless.
There are only two ways to live your life.
One is as though nothing is a miracle.
The other is as though everything is a miracle.
- Albert Einstein
I wonder what miracle I will take for granted today?
God Bless.
I sat pondering what I could post about the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ.
I mean, what could I write that hasn't been written?
What else could I say about the most holy of Sacraments?
The only thought that kept popping in my head was ... what if no one wrote about it?
At first I laughed at myself, questioning how one of the most important events in history would go unrecorded.
But the more I thought about it, the more I decided it wasn't that improbable.
After all, there is evidence that the early disciples did not understand everything Jesus did to the fullest. (Heck, who is to say we even do!)
What if they just second guessed what Jesus really meant? It wasn't the easiest event to decipher in retrospect. What if they just glossed over it during the mayhem that ensued shortly thereafter, forgetting the command to repeat that meal in memory of our Lord?
And even if they didn't forget it, surely they thought twice about trying to explain to folks that normal bread and wine miraculously changed into the actual Body and Blood of a Carpenter, right?
How about convincing people that eating the Body of their Teacher was not cannibalism?
Of course, I'm sure the Holy Spirit would have inspired them had they taken a different course.
But as our priest held up the Blessed Host and uttered "Take this, all of you and eat it", I not only thanked our Savior as I always do, but I also thanked the Evangelists for passing on this most Blessed Sacrament through their writings.
God Bless.
