The priest who gave me my first parish job – straight out of grad school when I had no idea what I was doing – was not known for his social graces or tactful conversation.  But he preached like a true man of God.  At his mother’s funeral, I wondered what kind of homily he would give.  He loved his mother very much, and she may have been the last person left on earth who loved him unconditionally.  But he did not focus on his own loss, and in Mass and homily he sent her on to the next life with dignity and love.  One thing he said about her in the homily has always remained with me.  After telling stories about fish on Fridays and mandatory early morning acolyting for her sons, he summed up her life:  “Catholic was the way she saw the world.”  Catholic was the way she saw the world.  You didn’t even have to think about what he meant.  You just knew. 

I owe that priest (who passed away several years ago) a debt of gratitude – not only for hiring me and believing in me – but for this tribute to his mother which unearthed a wise gem of truth.  Catholicism is not just a religion.  It is a perspective on life. 

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“‘Learn from me’ not how to make a world, not how to create all visible and invisible things, nor how to do miracles in the world and revive the dead; but ‘because I am meek and humble of heart.’”

 -- St. Augustine

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Lord Jesus, you were born into a human family.  You know our joys and struggles.  Bless our family with your love.  Refresh and strengthen us in the happiness of our good times.  Comfort and assist us in our painful times.  Fill our home with the burning charity you showed us on the Cross, that our family life may reflect the joy and peace of your Resurrection.

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Lord Jesus Christ, your presence was powerful in the lives of women.  You were born of a woman, whom you honored and loved, and who treasured you in her heart (Lk. 2:7, 51).  You revealed yourself to women as the Messiah, the Resurrection, and the Life (Jn. 4:26; 11:25-27).  You were friends with women (Jn. 11:5).  You were welcomed into their homes (Lk. 10:38).  Women travelled with you (Lk. 8:1-3), listened to your words (Lk. 10:39), wept for you (Lk. 23:38), witnessed your death (Mk. 15:41) and proclaimed your Resurrection (Jn. 20:18). 

Lord Jesus, with compassion and power, over and over you healed women of faith and their loved ones (Mk. 5:34; Mt. 15:28).  You expelled demons from the depths of their souls (Mk. 16:9), healed them spiritually by the forgiveness of their sins (Lk. 7:48), and restored them physically, freeing them from the bondage of illness and pain (Lk. 13:16).

Like the women of the Gospels, we befriend you, we welcome you into our homes, we walk with you, listen to you, weep with you, follow you to the Cross, and witness your empty tomb.  We too have experienced your healing touch and the restoring power of your forgiveness.  Heal us again, Lord, and strengthen us to proclaim with Mary Magdalene, “I have seen the Lord!” (Jn. 20:18).  Amen.

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One of my biblical school students, Patti Cacciabaudo, recently caught my attention with one of her homework answers.  She was reflecting on a powerful moment in the Book of Esther – a moment when Esther offers a heartfelt prayer for courage before going before the pagan king to plead for the lives of her people.  Esther is a faithful Jew – who also happens to be the queen! 

Before offering this prayer – which she knows may well be the last prayer of her life – Esther is feeling an anxiety that the text describes as “deadly.”  She flees to the Lord – but before opening her mouth, she very deliberately prepares herself for prayer.  Queen Esther exchanges her “splendid apparel” for the clothing of a mourner.  She foregoes perfume for ashes.  “She utterly humbled her body; every part that she loved to adorn she covered with her tangled hair” (14:2). 

Patti’s insight was this:  Isn’t this the attitude we should all take into prayer?  Esther was a queen, with every right to her finery and adornments.  But in God’s eyes, she knew what she was – she was simply his child, his faithful one, his little one in need of salvation.  Before the Lord, there are no kings and queens.  There are just little ones.  As Patti explained, “Without the ‘finery’ of fashion, of worldly goods, I simply present myself before him, unadorned, a child of the Father.” 

Note:  The prayer of Esther is found in the deuterocanonical additions to the book of Esther. 

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