Happy St. Patrick's Day to you. As I have gone through the day, I have been greeting people with this salutation and some of them are giving me the strangest looks. When I offer to tell them a little about who St. Patrick was and what he accomplished, they are acting like he is a fantasy. Many people have said that they assumed he was a made up saint and that he looked like a leprechaun! I can't make this stuff up. It is really a shame that the legend of a great man, who was recognized for his ministry by being canonized, has become so diminished by the "green beer revelry." A few days ago I saw an article that indicated that people of Irish descent in the U.S. were very disturbed by the images used to depict them and their ancestors. I can sympathize with them because of my French and Acadian ancestry. The depiction of "Cajuns" has become so simplistic. The use of the term Cajun for any food that is spicy is amusing. The history of the Acadian Diaspora is actually quiet interesting and very related to their Catholic identity. So I pray that more people are drawn to the real St. Patrick. The one who crafted the Gospel message to fit his audience. The man who worked tirelessly to bring people to the grace that God offers. The St. Patrick that I have come to love was a man full of Jesus. He longed to bring to Ireland the salvation message and to have people join the Catholic Church. He deserves better than being reduced to a caricature. So I wish you a Happy St. Patrick's Day and I call upon him to pray with and for us and we continue his mission of bringing the Gospel message to all of God's people.
I am just beginning to dive into the beautiful, ancient devotion to the Five Wounds of Jesus, and I wanted to share a bit of the journey with you. It can feel a little overwhelming at first to look at the Crucifix this closely, but I’ve found such a gentle guide in St. Bernard of Clairvaux . In his Jubilee Rhythm on the Passion, Bernard doesn't treat the wounds of Jesus as distant historical facts or sights to be avoided. Instead, he approaches them with the tenderness of a friend, speaking directly to the feet, hands, side, and face of our Lord. For someone like me who is just starting out, his rhythm teaches that prayer isn't just about reciting words; it’s a holy hide-and-seek. Bernard invites us to literally hide ourselves within these wounds, seeing them as clefts in the rock where we can find shelter when our own lives feel turbulent or heavy. As I start this process, I’ve been practicing what I call gazing and greeting. Following Bernard’s lead, I look at the Crucifix an...