Solano, Solanus, Solani

I’ve had St. Francis Solanus on the brain since we met online this past summer.  Call it a crescendoing mix of awe and discomforting disequilibrium.  It wasn’t only the miracles that hooked me.  Finding conflicting information on Solanus fueled my confusion and my need to know, but I was too busy to look for answers at the time.

For months I was pestered by the same questions.  Why does Solanus have different backgrounds and dates of birth?  Are there two?  If so, what’s the connection?  And why do I need to know this?

Sunday afternoon I read the news online and then went in search of Solanus.  Just like that.  And finally cleared up my Solani misconceptions.

First, St. Francis Solano (or Solanus, 1547-1610), a Spanish Franciscan missionary, was quite a wonder worker.  According to St. Francis Solanus– Apostle to America (Royer, 1955), miracles included saving a group of slaves from drowning at sea, preaching to various South American tribes in one language but being understood by everyone simultaneously, bringing a five-year-old girl back to life after she died from a fall, crossing a wide river in an unconventional manner, traveling without provisions and always arriving well taken care of, and converting 9,000 South American natives during one sermon. 

Above all, however, he fervently believed in the power of Baptism and went to extreme measures to safeguard and Christianize the indigenous.  

St. Francis Solanus was canonized in 1726.  His feast day is July 14th.

Second, Father Barney Francis Casey (1870-1957), the sixth of ten children, was born to Irish immigrants on a farm near Oak Grove, Wisconsin.  His academic challenges kept him from becoming a diocesan priest; but he persisted in the call of service when Our Lady told him to go to Detroit.  Father Casey took the name Solanus when he joined the Capuchin Order at St. Bonaventure Monastery in 1897. 

Although disallowed from formal preaching and hearing confessions, Father Casey was known for delivering feverinos, spiritual fires which gained him many listeners and ardent supporters; and he always made time for those who sought his assistance and guidance.  Daily, he visited with 150 to 200 people who flocked to him for special favors– cures from illnesses, relief from economic woes, and many such miracles– that, in twenty-one years’ time, “he filled seven notebooks with more than 6,000 requests for help from petitioners.”

Again and again, in his letters, [Father Solanus Casey] repeated his life’s message– that confidence in God is the very soul of prayer and becomes the condition for supernatural intervention in our lives.  “God condescends to use our powers if we don’t spoil his plans by ours…” (Baulach, 1996).

What a gift!  Not one but two Solani miracle workers.  They loved those they served and were loved in return.

When you love people, you see all the good in them, all the Christ in them.  God sees Christ, his Son, in us and loves us.  And so we should see Christ in others, and nothing else, and love them (Servant of God Dorothy Day, 1897-1980).

Father Casey was deemed Venerable in 1995 and awaits canonization.  His feast day is November 5th.

Mary’s miraculous medal

I was so captivated by the Franciscan Crown, as described by Miles and Gianopoulos (1991) in Saint Anthony of Padua, that I began praying it using my five-decade rosary.  Of course, no matter where I started decades six and seven, I usually lost my place; so I designed my own. 

Because the Franciscan Crown is a celebration of events in the Blessed Mother’s life with Jesus, I envisioned a rosary with Mary in mind.  For this reason, My Franciscan Crown© uses Catherine Labouré’s miraculous medal of Mary (MMM) rather than the traditional crucifix. 

Surprisingly, it wasn’t until a friend asked about the medal on the Crown that I remembered the countless mailings I’d received from the Central Association of the Miraculous Medal (CAMM) over the years. 

I looked online to learn more, read the story behind the miraculous medal, and found not only the print version of the prayers but also the virtual novena to pray aloud with Brother Towey.  It was such a treasure trove that I included the link on our church website; but, much to my dismay, I discovered just recently that the link to CAMM’s virtual novena was broken. 

After conducting a search, I found the updated website, which is very user-friendly.  I especially like the YouTube version of the novena ’cause it has more photos to view as one prays.  The only drawback, as I told Father Tom in an email, is that the novena prayers aren’t print-friendly anymore.  Good thing I kept a copy of CAMM’s 2008 novena prayers, which can be easily printed. 

What can I say? 

Together, the miraculous medal of Mary and the Franciscan Crown are powerful intercessionary tools.  From my speedy recovery from a triply-broken kneecap to friends receiving great news– finding out they didn’t have cancer as numerous tests had suggested, no longer needing a kidney transplant, receiving the unexpected blessing of a son after the sudden death of a firstborn child, recovery of feeling lost through surgery– miracles, big and small, await us all.  

Hail holy Queen, Mother of mercy, our life, our sweetness, and our hope.  To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve.  To thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears.  Turn then, most gracious Advocate, thine eyes of mercy toward us; and, after this, our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus.  O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary.  Pray for us, O holy Mother of God, that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

The heart of this good Mother is all love and mercy.  She desires only to see us happy.  We have only to turn to her to be heard (St. John Vianney; the Word among us, November 2009, p. M19).

Imagine the lengths to which the Blessed Mother will intercede on our behalf if we just ask, so why not embark on a very special journey with Our Lady through the MMM virtual novena and the Franciscan Crown?

O, Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee. 

St. Anthony Claret

Reading today’s novena prayer to St. Jude, I made some real-life connections to St. Anthony Claret.  First, he founded the Claretians, “servants of the word, partners in hope,” in 1849.  Second, the Claretians manage the National Shrine of St. Jude, which hosts solemn novenas, first Wednesday Masses for healing, and weekly remembrances.  Third, I receive wonderful prayer cards from the Shrine on a regular basis and continue to engage in a special relationship with St. Jude, especially where the kids are concerned.

On January 2, 2004, Kylie, our second grand-daughter, was hospitalized for the second two-week stay since her birth, October 29, 2003.  Her parents and I took turns staying at the hospital with her; but, even though I was there willingly, it was a miserable time for me.  I’d never had a child in the hospital.  Anytime one of the kids was ill, I’d always persuaded the doctor that I’d provide better care at home. 

During Christmas break from work and UH, I’d traveled to Chicago to help my daughter and her husband take care of the baby during the holidays.  Kylie had been released from her two-week stay just hours before they’d picked me up at O’Hare.  We’d hoped that my being there would allow them to catch their breath and re-energize, but Kylie was readmitted to the hospital days before my return to Texas.

Kylie cried all the time.  She was in a lot of pain from the intravenous drip in her foot, yet the nurses were unfazed.  I just knew they could’ve eased her pain if they’d readjusted the needle, but they merely looked at Kylie’s foot and left.  I prayed and prayed and quietly sang to Kylie until we’d both fall asleep in whiles.  I also wracked my brain trying to figure out what else to do.  We’d left written prayers in the book on the chapel’s altar, but I had to do something else.

The morning of January 5th, Kylie was to undergo a medical procedure that would take several hours.  I was to depart for Texas at 5:30 the following morning, so I got an idea.  “Take me nearest church, preferably one dedicated to St. Jude,” I told Kylie’s parents.  I’d gone to Mass at two different churches in Naperville, a suburb of Chicago; but I wanted one where I’d feel super close to St. Jude.  I’d never been in Chicago before, but I suddenly remembered the Shrine.  “Take me to the St. Jude Shrine,” I insisted, even though none of us knew where it was.

Oh, what a place!  I knew I was home when I saw the encased statue of the Holy Infant of Prague.  I walked around and dialogued with God.  I knew everything would be all right with Kylie, that we’d get good news when we got back to the hospital. 

Even though my heart had already raced back to Kylie, to spend as much time with her as I could, I wanted to first visit the gift shop across the street.  I wanted a memento of that day.

In the gift shop, I found two wonderful little books– The Infant Jesus of Prague (Nemec, 1978, 1986) and Saint Anthony of Padua (Miles & Gianopoulos, 1991)– which would keep me company on the flight back home but which wouldn’t make a dent in my pea brain until I broke my right kneecap in three places May 2006.

On arriving at the nurses’ station on Kylie’s floor, we were told that Kylie had been returned to her room within half an hour.  The procedure hadn’t been done because, oddly enough, the doctor hadn’t been able to follow through with it and had given up.  We had no idea what that meant, but we were relieved that Kylie wouldn’t have another wound on her tiny body.  I stayed with her until evening when I went to pack and returned to spend my last night with her until I left for my early morning flight. 

Kylie endured some harrowing times at the hospital due to negligence, but she went home after two weeks.  She went in again for an infection one more time after that, but it was just for one week.  Since then, Kylie’s gone through the usual childhood illnesses, but she’s been home.  She’s a perfectly beautiful little girl with what her parents call macaroni hair, flyaway golden-brown curls.  She’s spunky, loves shoes, and is very bright.  She really surprised me when, at age four, she said, “You were there with me at the hospital.  You smiled at me.  Lon, you sang to me.” 

I hadn’t seen her since she was a baby, much less mentioned the hospital.  I hugged her and smiled.  “Yes, Kylie, I was there with you.”

Praise God for his angels and saints who watch over us daily and intercede on our behalf.  Thank you, St. Jude and St. Anthony Claret; and thanks to the Claretians who support us through prayer at the National Shrine of St. Jude.

Mary’s seven joys

The Blessed Mother appeared to a Franciscan novitiate who daily had visited her in prayer from the time he was a child.

“Would you like to learn to pray in a manner pleasing to me?” Our Lady asked.

The Franciscan Crown, also known as the Rosary of the Seven Joys of Mary, is more than a celebration of the Blessed Mother’s life with Jesus.  It’s an endearing journey resplendent with everyday miracles.

Begin each decade with an Our Father and follow with ten Hail Mary’s.  Then, at the end, pray two additional Hail Mary’s for a total of seventy-two, which represent the years Our Lady lived on earth.  The Crown has no other prayers before, between, or after the decades, unless you count the sign of the cross before and after you say the rosary.

So, wherever you are, please join us in prayer…

1. The Annunciation…
2. The Visitation…
3. The Nativity…
4. The Visitation of the Magi…
5. The Finding in the Temple…
6. The Apparition of the Risen Jesus…
7. The Assumption and Coronation of Mary…

October novena

Today, Father Brummel invites us to sign up for St. Jude’s solemn novena, which starts on Saturday; submit petitions; download the prayers for the novena; and take a virtual tour of the shrine.

Let’s join Father Brummel in prayer at the St. Jude Shrine from October 17th through the 25th!

O glorious apostle, St. Jude Thaddeus, faithful servant and friend of Jesus, the name of the traitor has caused you to be forgotten by many; but the Church invokes you universally as the patron of hopeless cases and things despaired of.  Pray for me that I may receive the consolations and succor of heaven in all my necessities, tribulations, and sufferings, particularly… and that I may bless God with you and the Elect throughout eternity.  Amen.

P.S. Father Brummel adds that we can submit petitions to the shrine any time, and don’t forget that October 28th is St. Jude’s feast day.

Messages redux

After folding laundry Tuesday afternoon I came back here to work on the church website; but you know how the ol’ pea brain works, always off on multiple tangents. 

 

Saturday, as I typed the readings on the home page, I happened to notice that this month’s issue of the Word among us focuses on prayer.  Then, out of the blue on Sunday afternoon, I got a call from a saintly woman I met while teaching CCE at St. Paul’s. 

 

Irene’s gone through a lot in life, especially these past two years.  Her oldest child was killed in a car collision as he and his younger sister drove to their grandfather’s house in the valley.  What an emotional roller coaster ride it’s been!  Irene misses her son so much that, oftentimes, she’s inconsolable.  Still, she accepts God’s will and continues to be proactively involved in prayer and at church. 

 

Although we seldom communicate, other than through an occasional letter, Irene called because she’d just found my telephone number on the little piece of paper I’d given her two years ago!  She wanted to hear my voice because I always make her feel better, she said; so we talked for almost an hour– crying, laughing, praising God.  Then, at the end, she asked me to pray over her. 

 

What a simple request!  Irene’s a terroncito de azucar, a sweet innocent, despite her grandmotherliness.  I’m so in awe of her faithfulness to God and her devotion to the Blessed Mother through the Franciscan Crown, that she truly is a hero in my eyes.  I felt like the mouse that helped the lion in one of Aesop’s fables.  We were both so quiet on the phone afterwards that we just hung up.

 

Next, I got an email from my friend Rose.  She missed seeing us at Mass, but her illness kept her home from church on Sunday. 

 

I told her in an ecard that she was ill because it was the only way God could slow her down to spend alone time with her.  Rose emailed back saying she’d be on the lookout for God’s message.  She also reminded me that God speaks through others, too. 

 

I responded, in part, with…

 

I was thinking of you– that I’d told you God’s trying to tell you something– when I opened the Word among us and was struck by the enormity of three– not one, not two, but three– messages.  I wanted to email then and there, but I had to start dinner before Steven got home from work.  I figured my sharing could wait till today; but I did listen in earnest to I Can Only Imagine and was wholly moved to tears before leaving my thoughtful spot.

 

Sooo…  Messages? 

 

We get them all the time from God, who responds to our faith and trust.  “When you seek me with all your heart, you will find me with you” (Jer. 29:13-14).  Moreover, “The Heart of an Intercessor” (the Word among us, October 2009) suggests that we engage in heartfelt prayer by focusing, first, on quality versus quantity; second, on clear-mindedness; and third, on praying in secret.  “It’s in these situations that we may be more likely to sense God’s presence in our hearts and to receive his comfort or his guidance” (p. 14). 

 

In other words,

• Persistence works, but “do not babble like the pagans, who think that they will be heard because of their many words” (Mt. 6:7). 
• When we feel overwhelmed, we can reach out to others who’ll pray with and for us.
• Spending alone time with God means sharing our innermost thoughts and feelings unconditionally. 

Finally, as Rose and Irene well know, God also avails himself through others; so imagine my delight at finding Johnny the bagger in my Yahoo inbox.  Talk about a heartwarming message about messages.

 

Feel better, Rose… be happy, Irene… and have a wonderful day!

 

Historic nuggets

Last week, Steven and I attended the monthly TTTR meeting in Laredo. 

Our group met at the art center and later took the trolley to the Laredo Community College, situated on the site of the historic Fort McIntosh.  We took a guided walking tour of the environmental science center and were entertained by a couple of dancers from the Folklorico Ballet before returning to the art center for the delicious three-course meal prepared by Chano Aldrete (chanoa1969@hotmail.com).

Following lunch, we viewed two films– the story of the TX Tropical Trail and the history of Fort McIntosh– presented by Rick Villarreal and Margarita Araiza, respectively.

After the meeting, we exited the art center along with four lovely women from Hebbronville.  They excitedly shared their good news: Our Lady of Guadalupe Church has undergone its transformation.  “You have to come back for a visit!  The church is beautiful,” the ladies enthused.  We agreed to return, most likely during the town’s Vaquero Festival on November 6-7. 

Steven and I headed to the hotel to await our very first
16 de septiembre celebration, which was set to start with ”el grito” at the plaza across from La Posada.

Around six, we walked over to the San Agustin Cathedral before strolling around the plaza, but the front door was locked.  We talked to a young woman who’d grown up in Laredo.  Gigi, now a middle school teacher, told us about her Catholic school experience in the building next to the church.  She encouraged us to return the following morning when the church would be open again, said she’d introduce her family to us if we saw each other later, then left to find her loved ones at the plaza.  We enjoyed the view from where we stood before crossing the street to join in the festivities.

We took lots of photos and mingled with others who, like us, enjoyed the entertainment, the freebies, and the tantalizing aromas of gastronomic delights.

Once back in front of the hotel, I couldn’t help but wonder about the opposite end of the cathedral.  “Let’s go check out what’s behind the wall.  I want to see the other side,” I insisted, even though Steven reminded me that the church was closed.

As we walked past the gate onto the churchyard, we saw the priest making his way toward the plaza. 

“Excuse me, Father,” Steven said.  “We’re from out of town, so we’d like to visit the church before we leave.  What time is Mass tomorrow?”

“At noon, but you can go in now.  Just enter through that door,” he responded, motioning to the wooden doors behind him.

Overjoyed, we thanked him and hurried in for a look. 

As we entered, we noticed the couple cleaning the church.  I explained that the priest had given us permission to look around.  

     

We took photos until the man informed us that Father had said to lock up the church.  I thanked him, adding that the church is beautiful and reminiscent of the one in Brownsville, which was also established by the Oblates.  The man smiled and spoke proudly about the church before we bid each other goodnight.

Steven and I walked happily back to the plaza.  We took in the sights and sounds for a while before opting for dinner at the hotel restaurant.

We sat and talked about the day as we gazed at the happenings through the window.  The plaza and its surrounding areas were standing room only by then.  We took our time, conversing with both Tony, our lighthearted waiter, and our gracious hostess, who spoke glowingly about her family.  Then, for dessert, we stepped back out onto Zaragosa Street to savor the 16 de septiembre celebration through its flavorful music, dancing, and ambiance in Laredo’s historic downtown district.

We had a fantabulous time!

Simple yet profound

Traditions are accepted unquestioningly and become as natural as breathing and blinking, but I’ve had a lifelong preoccupation with why we cross ourselves three times before the gospel is read. 

Although I’m not one with roaming eyeballs in church– Mom was adamant about that– still, I’ve observed variations of the triple crossing before the gospel.  Some dot the four edges of the cross on their forehead, mouth, and heart, while others make the sign of the cross with their thumb.  I’ve also noticed that, while no one struggles to get it right, some perform the ritual so gracefully that it’s elegantly genuine.

With countless observations in the field, I was ready.  In 2005, I took the plunge.  If I make the ritual uniquely mine, it’ll make sense to me. 

I felt awkward at first– actually, for some time– but practice has its perks.  I’m okay with it now; but every single time before the gospel’s read, the simple act of crossing myself three times still makes me wonder, Do others fumble with the ritual as I have?  Or are they perfectly at ease with the tradition?  How can something so simple be so complex?

Until yesterday, when I received Father Brummel’s weekly devotion to St. Jude, I’d never thought to ask– nor had anyone thought to explain– the significance of the triple crossing before the gospel is read during Mass. 

“We make the sign of the cross over our forehead, lips, and heart… praying that God’s powerful Word might always be in our minds, on our lips, and in our hearts.”  

Perfectimundo! 

Father Brummel’s simple yet profound explanation was so insightful that I’m still smiling.  Nevertheless, this inquiring mind is percolating another thought. 

At Mass back home, the Alleluia is always sung before and after the gospel and is followed by the sign of the cross after the homily.  Is this not a universal practice?

St. Jude novena

The St. Jude Shrine is once again hosting its solemn novena for healing from Saturday, August 22nd through Sunday, the 30th.

Don’t forget to join in!

P.S. The next solemn novena takes place October 17th through the 25th.

Messages

Have you ever wondered why things happen to slow you down or keep you from leaving the house at the time you’d intended?

One morning many years ago when I had three kids to drop off– one at daycare, the other two at school– I just couldn’t get the older ones going.  They procrastinated in getting up and then dressed in molasses mode, while I was frantic ’cause I didn’t want to be late for work.  Still, that was of no concern to the kids; so we ran late a few minutes.

Every day we took the same route, crossing a very busy and oftentimes dangerous intersection where impatient drivers passed yellow and red lights without regard for others.

That one morning, my thoughts were on signing in at the office before 7:45.  We drove about halfway to that intersection to find stopped traffic and lots of police cars.  Someone had caused a major accident, and ambulances were at the scene. 

Later I learned that passengers had been seriously injured, and two or three had died.  I gave thanks and praise for running late that day, and I’ve been grateful ever since for what I’ve come to call the percolating moments that keep me in place.

Take the last couple of weeks, for instance. 

Usually, I type my notes from Father’s Sunday homily before the weekend comes up again.  I like to post the updated “messages from the pulpit” by Thursday, but sometimes unexpected happenings get in the way.  

Last week, I kept wondering how I’d posted four blog entries so easily when I couldn’t sit still long enough to type my notes.  What’s going on with my pea brain?  There’s gotta be an underlying reason that hasn’t yet revealed itself.

Then, first thing Saturday morning, I came here to my thoughtful spot and, lo and behold, I began typing my notes just like that.  No interference, no nada, just clackety-clack.  

Around eleven-thirty, Steven suddenly realized we’d lost track of time.  We had to get ready for my cousin’s daughter’s college graduation at one-thirty. 

“Okay,” I said.  “I just finished typing the notes from July 26th, so that’s good.  I’ll save and stop here.  I can’t believe how easy it was to finish the first set so quickly.”

As Steven was just about ready, his cell phone rang.  A boat in one of the slips at MSI was sinking.  He was upset at missing Sabrina’s graduation, but I told him that God had other plans for us.  “Besides, he probably doesn’t want us on the road with all those loons on the highway,” I said, recalling the car accident at Paredes and FM 802.

I called Rosie to explain our dilemma.  She, in turn, invited us to join the family for pizza at five.  We’d still have a chance to meet up with her siblings and other family members that evening, so I emailed Steven to let him know.

I was typing my notes from Aug 2nd when Steven got back.  From time to time, I asked him for help in deciphering my chicken scratch.  I also talked to him about Father’s quotes as I looked them up in our Bible.

And then, BOING-G-G!!!

At 2:36 p.m., I found “God is Spirit, and those who worship him must worship in Spirit and truth” (Jn. 4:24), followed by “Jesus said to them, ‘My food is to do the will of the one who sent me and to finish his work’” (Jn. 4:34).  The story of the Samaritan woman related to my “concrete abstraction” blog entry from the previous Saturday. 

I recalled Elsa’s comments and subsequent emails related to the post. 

“OMG, OMG, OMG!!!” I kept saying.  “You see, darling?  It all makes perfect sense!  I posted to my blog on Aug 1st, and Father’s homily reference from the Samaritan woman passage happened on Aug 2nd.  I couldn’t type the notes during the week because I wasn’t meant to discover the messages until today.  Look how easy it was to type both weeks’ notes today.  Had we gone to the graduation ceremony, I would’ve missed the messages meant for today.  You were called to take care of the emergency, so I could continue working and have my epiphany.  And, sure, the scientist within me says I would’ve found the passage with the messages later on anyway.  Still, I was meant to find God’s response within a week’s time before tomorrow’s new set of notes ’cause he knew how I felt about getting behind with my work.  WOW!!!”

Of course, my pea brain always gets blown away.  I’m Chicken Little when the rose leaf falls on him.  Puawk-PUAWK, puawk-PUAWK, puawk-PUAWK!!! 

Steven doesn’t get excited when I share stuff like this, but I do.  Every single time.

Epiphanies are heavenly surprises that happen at the oddest moments.  They’re so emotionally exhilarating that I go, “WOW!!!  How great is that?!!”  I look up at the Holy Infant’s photo above my thoughtful spot, laugh, raise my arms, and praise God over and over as tears stream down my face.  Revelations are so totally awesome!

I finished typing my second set of notes with time to spare and posted the updated “messages from the pulpit” on the home page before leaving for Sabrina’s celebration at four-thirty.

We had such a terrific time with Rosie’s family that it was a very special day all the way around.  Plus, I had a clean slate for the following morning’s note taking during Father’s Sunday homily.