It’s amazing how time flies! So hard to believe that we are officially in our first weekend of December. One week of Advent is behind us and the countdown to Christmas is very much alive with all the excitement for the awaiting joys with our family and friends. It’s good to enjoy this time – to make the Christmas cookies (and of course eat them!), to shop for presents, to listen to the music of the season. It’s a time when we are really thinking about making ourselves and others happy- and we could all use a boost of happiness! But in the midst of all that business, it’s also important to take time to focus on the most important part of our preparation- the part that can make us truly happy on the deepest level and that’s making our heart ready to receive the newborn Christ, to have our faith rekindled, to put God in first place.

Our faith in Jesus Christ and our readiness to receive it more deeply in our lives is the greatest path to human happiness. Nothing can replace it or even come close. Imagine how beautiful it is to know that we have a God who chose to become like us- to become a human in all things but sin. Jesus experienced it all- the joys of celebration like at the Wedding Feast in Cana, the sorrows of life at the death of his friend Lazarus, and the sufferings/humiliation/pain that we all have in our lives, especially by his death on the Cross. As we enjoy this time together as a parish family, I’d like to encourage each one of us, myself included, to make it a time of prayer. It could be as simple as saying a small prayer for the person for whom we are buying the gift or making the decision to listen even more carefully to the readings and prayers at Mass. The little expressions of prayer that we intentionally make add up and go a long way to making our hearts ready to enjoy Christmas and our life as Catholic Christians. May God abundantly bless us all, our families and our friends during these holy days of Advent.

With Prayer,
Fr. Christian

From the Pastor’s Desk, November 27, 2022

Advent is a season crowded with religious themes in its four brief weeks. There is so much for us to do, and at a time when life is filled with so many other activities that vie for our attention, such as planning menus, shopping for gifts and arranging schedules for visiting and traveling. We can become half-exhausted merely thinking of it all.

Father Augustin George was a French theologian and a biblical scholar who played an important part in creating the acclaimed study notes for the original edition of the Jerusalem Bible. He pointed out the chief ingredients of the delicious stew that is Advent, including its summation of the expectation of a Savior, its call to repentance and its vision of hope as we look to God’s judgment:
For the prophets the essential point is to proclaim God’s mastery over history and his imminent appearance in glory; his appearance requires that people be converted if they wish … to enjoy the salvation he will give to his faithful ones…. Throughout both Testaments, the Bible proclaims that history has meaning, that it is moving toward an encounter with God, and that God’s judgment will definitively establish his holy people. The various depictions of the judgment are not meant to describe it so much as to summon men to a conversion in faith. Then, in Jesus Christ, they will receive the wondrous and mysterious salvation that God offers them.

This is a fine description of this holy season’s global meaning. But we should also consider something Father Eugene Boylan pointed out in his modern spiritual classic, “This Tremendous Lover”:
We must remember that [God’s] love for men is not merely for humanity in general. God is in love with each human individual, personally and particularly. It is essential to remember that fact. Each of us can rightly regard our Lord’s Heart and interest as centered on our own self, for our Lord would have undergone all his passion for any one of us, and each of us was present to his mind just as clearly and significantly as if there were no one else to redeem.

Why not treat the blessed jumble of Advent in a very personal way, seeing its riches as immediately meant for each one of us?

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, November 20, 2022

Tuesday is the memorial of St. Cecilia, who, with St. Gregory the Great, is the patron saint of music. Since we have no documented information about her until the 5th century, we have to be satisfied with the dim heritage of legend, which informs us that she was martyred in the early 3rd century. She came from a Roman family that arranged a marriage for her to a man named Valerian despite her wish to devote her life to Christ. On the wedding day, Cecilia sang to God “in her heart,” praying for help. When she and Valerian were alone after the wedding, Cecilia refused to consummate the marriage, telling her new husband that she was under the protection of an angel, whom Valerian would see if he were to be baptized. So he sought out Pope Urban I and requested the sacrament, which Urban immediately granted him. When Valerian’s brother arrived soon after, he too was convinced to approach the pope and ask to be baptized, which he was.

From then on, the two young men devoted themselves to doing charitable works, and were eventually hauled before the Roman court, where they insisted on practicing their Christian faith. They, and soon after, Cecilia, were condemned to death. St. Cecilia has been a very popular saint, including with eminent artists. Chaucer, Dryden, Pope and Auden have written verses about her; Purcell, Handel and Benjamin Britten have celebrated her in music; and Fra Angelico and Raphael have chosen her for paintings. Some of Europe’s most renowned churches have mosaics, frescoes or stained glass portraying her. Our own church has one of St. Cecilia’s symbolic attributes, a stained-glass harp, although it is not readily visible since it is located off the stairs that lead up to the choir loft.

W. H. Auden’s “Anthem for St. Cecilia’s Day” includes verses that remind us of the saint’s continuing influence on our music:
Blessed Cecilia, appear in visions
To all musicians and inspire:
Translated Daughter, come down and startle
Composing mortals with immortal fire.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, November 13, 2022

The biblical Holy Land was about the size of New Jersey, but with more striking geographical features. The main ones run north and south, although they are cut through with some important valleys that run east to west. A key presence are the land’s mountain ridges, which have a crucial effect on the weather. The land to their west benefits from the Mediterranean Sea and is good for farming and raising sheep, but the rains have little influence on the eastern side of the mountains, and quickly turn to deserts, some of them as harsh as the Earth contains.

We are near the end of this liturgical year, in which the Gospel of Luke has been emphasized. Its concluding chapters present the life of Jesus as a journey to Jerusalem and the cross. He passes through Jericho, where he has a memorable encounter with the tax collector Zacchaeus. Jericho is near the Jordan River where it passes into the Dead Sea, 1,300 feet below sea level, the lowest place on Earth. Galilean Jews often chose the Jordan River route to Jerusalem instead of the more direct way through Samaria to avoid the long-standing bad feelings of encountering a people who were half-Jewish. (See Lk 9, 53-55, Jn 4,9.)

A road much used by devout Jews on their way to Jerusalem for the three great pilgrimage feasts juts off from the vicinity of Jericho. The distance to the Mount of Olives, where the worshippers could marvel at the splendor of the great temple below, was just over 15 miles, but the trek was difficult. The Temple, which Psalm 48:2 describes as “the holy mountain, fairest of heights, the joy of all the earth,” was about 2,450 feet above sea level and the Mount of Olives almost 300 higher than that, and there was no source of water along the way. To the right was the forbidding, harsh Judean desert.

The Episcopalian Bishop James Pike met his death there in September of 1969 after his car broke down in its desolate hills. Bishop Pike, a frequent guest on the media of his day, was a flamboyant dissenter from mainline Christian doctrines and biblical interpretations. As the ancient pilgrims climbed over 3,300 feet toward Jerusalem, they sang what were called the “Psalms of Ascent” (Ps. 120-135) in their joyous anticipation. This can be a fine inspiration for us to do our best to praise God with our singing each Sunday at Mass.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, November 6, 2022

The Irish have an expression, “the wild geese.” It originally came from the poetry of Michael Joseph Barry and referred to soldiers who fought unsuccessfully to restore James II to his throne and who then fled to the European continent near the end of the 17th century. The term is also sometimes applied to other emigrants, for example, men who have followed the occupation of mercenary or people who have left their native land to pursue economic opportunities in other countries, including those who judged that they had little choice but to leave when the great Irish famine struck. But the Irish were great travelers long before that.

In the 12th century, and even considerably before that, many scholarly Irish monks went to Europe, founding or enriching monastic foundations in, among other places, Lindisfarne (England); Vienna, Prague; St. Gall (Switzerland); and in Wuzburg, Nuremberg and Reichenau (Germany). The latter is on a beautiful island in Lake Constance, and is most famous for the presence of Blessed Herman the Cripple, who is traditionally credited with creating the beautiful “Hail, Holy Queen” prayer.

Reichenau owed its fame to Irish scholars. One of them left a notebook that contains delightfully human verses about the pet cat he kept:
I and Pangur Ba n my cat, ‘Tis a like task we are at:
Hunting mice is his delight, Hunting words I sit all night. …
So in peace our task we ply, Pangur Ba n, my cat and I;
In our arts we find our bliss, I have mine and he has his.

St. Paul has important verses right before his immortal description of love. They remind us that we all have contributions to make to the Body of Christ that is the Church—and they are far from exhaustive about what we can do to make it more effective: “Now you are Christ’s body, and individually parts of it. Some people God has designated in the church to be, first, apostles; second, prophets; third, teachers; then, mighty deeds; then gifts of healing, assistance, administration, and varieties of tongues.” (1 Cor 12, 27-28)

We should all be thinking of what we can do for Jesus Christ. Our efforts are needed.

From the Pastor’s Desk, October 30, 2022

Tuesday is All Saints Day, a holy day of obligation. It honors all of God’s “holy ones,” whether they are famous or not, or whether they are canonized (formally declared to be in heaven) or not. One of them is St. Cyprian. Little is known about Cyprian’s early life. He came from a family of Carthage that was well off, possibly of senatorial rank. Like St. Augustine, he became a teacher of rhetoric. Only rather late in his life did he become a Christian. He became the bishop of Carthage in the year 248, just two years before violent persecutions in the reign of the emperor Decius. When the martyrdoms began, Cyprian’s reaction was to get out of town. He said that he received a message in a dream to do so, since he could better care for the needs of his flock at a distance, something that sounds suspiciously like an attack of the nerves that, I imagine, might beset any of us in such dangerous circumstances—who can say?

But Cyprian, like St. Peter after his cowering before the slave girl’s uncomfortable questions after Jesus’ arrest, made up for his timid behavior by returning to his duties. Cyprian made up his mind to abandon his nice gardens and vineyards for a jail cell, resolving to face the prospect of martyrdom bravely, and even to situate himself in the path of the madness that then proceeded from the courts. A few years later, when another murderous persecution of Christians erupted in 257, Cyprian was hauled before the authorities, where he refused to offer the required sacrifices to the emperor. He was duly sentenced to death by beheading, after which he replied, “Thanks be to God,” and bravely met his fate.

After the first massacres of Christians that disturbed Cyprian’s episcopal ministry, a terrible plague broke out in Carthage, and the dead and dying could be found throughout the city streets. It was then that Cyprian wrote his work On Mortality, in which he said: “Only in the heavens above are to be found true peace, sure repose, constant, enduring and eternal safety. There is our dwelling, there is our home. Who is there who would not hasten towards it? There a great multitude of the beloved await us: innumerable hosts of fathers, brothers, daughters and sons. There, too, is the glorious choir of the apostles, and the exulting prophets, and the countless multitudes of martyrs, crowned now with victory after their wars and their sufferings, and there you will find the triumphant virgins, and the merciful enjoying their rewards. Let us hasten thither with ardent desire, coming face to face with Christ. After the earthly comes the heavenly; after the small comes the great; after the temporary comes the eternal.

St. Cyprian recovered commendably from his earlier display of weakness. So many times in life what is important is not that we have failed and sinned, but that, with God’s help, we persevere. He certainly did so, and deserves our admiration for it.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, October 23, 2022

One of the most irksome but unavoidable duties of suburban homeowners at this time of year is to reactivate the rakes and leaf blowers as the summer’s greenery departs, or to pay someone else to handle the problem. If you take care of this yourself, maybe it’s a good idea to regard the work as a healthful exercise. St. Josemaria Escrivá, who was canonized not long ago, in his collection of a thousand brief thoughts entitled The Way, asks, in one of them: “Have you seen the dead leaves fall in the sad autumn twilight? So fall souls each day into eternity. One day the falling leaf will be you.

Each year on All Souls Day (November 2), when the Church remembers those who have died, our parish has a special Mass to pray for those who have had their funerals here and those who are relatives and friends of our parishioners no matter where their funerals took place. We have sent letters of invitation to the closest family member of each person whose funeral took place at St. Joseph’s unless the next-of-kin lives very far away. All their names are read aloud at the Mass. Beyond those, we rely on your submissions of the names of those who have died since last November 2. We need them by October 25 to prepare the list our readers will rely on.

Our belief that life continues eternally beyond death is one of the key Catholic convictions. As St. Cyril of Jerusalem reminded us, early in the history of our religion, “The time to die is also the time to live.” For us, death is an intensified union with God and those who belong to him. As St. Augustine, one of the most eloquent of all the saints, declared so helpfully: “After death, true life; after desolation, true consolation; a life which delivers our souls from death and a consolation which restrains our eyes from tears.

– Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, October 16, 2022

Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889), one of the most talented students of his era at Oxford, was received into the Catholic Church by St. John Henry Newman, much to the disapproval of his parents, who afterwards did not speak to him again until he was on his deathbed when he was only 45. During his university years he was already regarded as a future major literary figure, but, of his own volition, he renounced his poetic gifts when he entered formation to become a Jesuit priest. Gerard’s seminary days occurred during times of great change in Europe, when Bismarck was forging nearly forty petty kingdoms into modern Germany. His Prussian-dominated government, in an effort to compel the allegiance of the mainly Catholic population of Bavaria and the Rhineland, passed what were called the May laws, which contained many restrictive measures to achieve this goal. In what came to be known as the Kulturkampf (“cultural war”), Bismarck closed Catholics off from government jobs, expelled most religious orders (including the Jesuits), and insisted on government approval for all Church appointments. Twelve bishops and more than eighteen hundred priests were imprisoned for resisting, and were also hit with devastating fines. Catholic organizations became targets for further oppressive government actions. Widespread Catholic resistance followed until the Bismarck government finally gave up on its aims. Some Catholics fled this new Germany, and a number of them emigrated to the United States.

Among them were five nuns who left to work in Missouri, sailing on the Deutschland. The ship was caught up in a violent storm in the Thames estuary as it headed toward its stopover in London. It sank there with a loss of 260 lives, including the sisters. As Hopkins was reading a newspaper account of the tragedy in the seminary’s common room, the
rector, seeing how moved he was by the disaster, said to him: “Perhaps someone should write a poem on the subject.” And Hopkins went on to write his 35-stanza masterpiece, The Wreck of the Deutschland. The poem was rejected by the publisher it was first submitted to, who regarded its creative features as too difficult and exotic. Hopkins’s poetry only appeared after his death, when his friend and fellow poet Robert Bridges successfully promoted it. Father Hopkins’s stature in the world of literature has grown steadily ever since. Hopkins is not an easy poet to understand, with his astonishingly inventive use of words and rhythms. But his hope that his country would again welcome Christ in a Catholic understanding shines through, including in his great work’s last stanza, where he writes of the sister superior and the Lord:
Dame, at our door
Drowned, and among our shoals,
Remember us in the roads, the heaven

-haven of the Reward:
Our King back, oh, upon English souls! Let him

easter in us, be a dayspring to
the dimness of us, be a crimson-cresseted east,
More brightening her, rare-dear Britain, as his reign rolls,
Pride, rose, prince, hero of us, high-priest,
Our hearts’ charity’s hearth’s fire, our thoughts’ chivalry’s throng’s Lord.

Ron Hansen, a Catholic deacon who has written novels about Jesse James and the emerging Hitler as well as his greatly admired Mariette in Ecstasy, has treated the Deutschland incident in a superb short novel called Exiles (Knopf, 2008). It’s great reading.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, October 9, 2022

Tuesday is the memorial for St. John XXIII (originally Angelo Roncalli, son of a peasant farming family from northern Italy), who was Pope from 1958-1963. He was already 77 when he was elected to succeed Pius XII, an aristocratic man of slender build. When Cardinal Roncalli was on his way to join the conclave that elected him, he overheard a lady remark, “My, look how fat he is!” He turned to her with a smile and his always-ready wit and said, “Madam, the conclave is not a beauty contest.”

It was widely assumed that John XXIII would be a brief place-holder until a Pope of longer duration would emerge. But his five-year pontificate would be astonishingly influential: one of the most consequential in all the Church’s history, especially since he shocked the Catholic world, including the hierarchy, by convening the ecumenical (or worldwide) council Vatican II, the first such gathering in nearly a hundred years and the most important one since the Council of Trent addressed the convulsion of the Reformation. John also exerted an enormous impact by the great warmth and humor of his personality. His love for people, whether they were Catholic believers or not, was enormous and obvious, and soon expressed itself in whatever circumstance he found himself in.

He rose to the papacy after excelling first in pastoral work, then in a variety of diplomatic assignments in which he endeared himself to Orthodox Christians in Bulgaria (who, even years later, fondly remembered him as “the round one”), Muslims in Turkey, and, in the difficult times after World War II, Catholics in France. Following his papal election, before he eliminated the papal chair that was carried by six attendants, John XXIII gave them a raise because he was so much heavier than his predecessor. He also ended the
custom of the Pope’s dining alone, relishing the company and conversation his new practice allowed. (He said that the old one made him “feel like a seminarian under punishment.”) And until he died, he continued to keep the diary he had begun at age fourteen. Published after his death under the title “Journal of a Soul”, it is a wonderful insight into his traditional piety and deep spirituality, a true modern classic of the Catholic Faith.

By the way, the immensely worthwhile Catholic writer George Weigel has written an incisive book marking the 60th anniversary of the opening of the Second Vatican Council that will be released this month. It is called “To Sanctify the World: The Vital Legacy of Vatican II” (Basic Books)—and it is sure to feature the author’s dependable gifts for astute analysis and clear synthesis.

From the Pastor’s Desk, October 2, 2022

Our “Beatlemania” event (October 14) should be a lot of fun. I hope you will consider attending and will spread the word about it. It can also help pay our parish expenses. My own first acquaintance with the Beatles dates from the 1960s, when they exploded onto the American scene. My sisters were big fans, and I heard the group’s first hit, “I Want to Hold Your Hand,” hundreds of times from their record players as the sound blasted through our apartment walls.

Julie Satow, in her recent book “The Plaza”, the story of New York’s renowned hotel across from Central Park, described how, months before the Beatles’ famous appearance on Ed Sullivan’s variety show, their managers made reservations for rooms at the Plaza, whose reservation clerk had no idea who they were. When the Plaza’s manager, Alphonse Salomone, eventually sized up the situation, he decided to cancel the reservation because he was afraid the group’s arrival might upset the hotel’s wealthy permanent guests. His daughter Lourdes, a student at Manhattan’s Marymount School, erupted: “You can’t do this, Daddy! I’ll never speak to you
again!” Mr. Salomone relented and honored the reservation.

Four thousand screaming fans welcomed the Beatles when they landed at the airport. The four stars then took separate limousines into the city, and were met by thousands more fans in Grand Army Plaza, across from the hotel. A large contingent of police were on hand to see that there was no trouble, which there wasn’t, especially if you don’t count the four girls who tried three times to invade the twelfth floor, where the Beatles were staying. They were carrying two large boxes that contained two more of their friends.
Alphonse Salomone later noted that “the Beatles were exceptionally well behaved. No noise … No nothing. When they finally left there wasn’t so much as a coffee stain on a side table.” Happily, all went well between father and daughter also. Julie Satow described it deftly: For her part, Lourdes Salomone was exceedingly satisfied. “I was like the queen
of Marymount,” she said, referring to her school. “Everyone wanted to be my best friend.”

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, September 25, 2022

Each year dozens of our people take part in our parish’s small-group Scripture programs, learning about God’s inspired teachings. Friday is the memorial for our patron of Biblical studies, St. Jerome (c. 341-420), one of the most interesting persons in all the calendar of saints. Jerome, son of a prominent family, came from the Baltic region of Dalmatia. From his early days he showed remarkable intellectual talents and a tremendous thirst for learning, attaching himself to prominent teachers from as far away as Germany. His love of words and aptitude for learning languages were especially strong.

Jerome became a secretary to Pope Damasus, who asked him to undertake a fresh translation of the Bible from its original languages, a project that resulted in the Vulgate Bible, the enduring pillar of the saint’s fame. Jerome also went on to write widely respected scholarly commentaries on a number of scriptural books as well as many interesting letters, which display his irascible and witty personality. He did not hesitate to assail unworthy priests of Rome, a major reason why he was pressured to leave the city and relocate in the near East, first in Syria and then in Bethlehem, where he continued his work and became the Church’s first expert in Hebrew. In the city of Jesus’s birth, he also founded a religious community, making important contributions to the growth of monastic life in the Western Church. Jerome had vexing spiritual struggles in his life, once describing himself as being “buried in the tomb of my misdeeds, tied fast with the chains of my sins.” Even when most of these inclinations had left him in his old age, they didn’t disappear. One of his commentaries, written in his mid-seventies, has an articulate description of the blessings and the trials of his old age. Besides the waning of his disturbing passions and his acquisition of much wisdom, he notes an intimidating list of ordeals, including failing eyesight, digestive troubles, loss of teeth and the disabilities brought on by arthritis, which severely affected his ability to hold his pen and even to walk. Jerome, describing such exasperating woes, said that “When one is old, the spark now and then glows among the burnt out ashes and tries to come to life, but it cannot get the blaze going.”

His biographer J.N.D. Kelly notes that for more than a thousand years after his death, praise for Jerome increased. He was designated as one of the four great Fathers of the Western Church. His writings were extensively copied in the middle ages. Great figures of the Renaissance extolled his learning and the quality of his works (including their appreciation of classical culture). In addition, Kelly notes that from the 13th to the 18th centuries Jerome inspired “the brushes of great artists as no other early Christian figure.” In
these paintings, many by artists of universally acknowledged greatness, Jerome is depicted as a penitent in the desert, as a dying man receiving Holy Communion, as a cardinal (even though that institution began centuries after his death) and as a scholar in his study, where he is often shown with his loyal pet lion, which he had supposedly freed
from a thorn that had become stuck in its paw—an incident that may have been lifted from a legend of St. Gerasimus, a Palestinian saint.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, September 18, 2022

Friday is the Church’s memorial for St. Pius of Pietrelcina (1887-1968), better known as Padre Pio. Born Francesco Forgione to a poor family in southern Italy, he showed a fervent love for God from an early age and joined the Franciscan Capuchins as a teenager. He spent the last fifty years of his life at their friary of San Giovanni Rotondo, now one of the most visited places in Italy.

Padre Pio became famous for unusual spiritual gifts and astonishing occurrences, such as the stigmata (the appearance of wounds much like those of Jesus, something he had in common with St. Francis of Assisi) and well-attested incidents of bi-location (being in two separate places at the same time). But he also had connections with the United States, which I’d like to emphasize in this piece.

To meet young Francesco’s necessary educational expenses, his father temporarily left Italy to earn money for them. After finding work in Brazil, he later took jobs in Pennsylvania and in Long Island, where he worked on farms and on the railroad for that purpose. St. Pio also formed a friendship with a woman from Morristown, New Jersey, who was devoted to him and was a great help to him in his work: Adelaide (Mary) Pyle. She acquired a house near Padre Pio’s monastery, offering hospitality to thousands of pilgrims over the years. Padre Pio also became friendly with many American soldiers during World War II, as Italy disentangled itself from its alliance with Germany and switched its allegiance to the Allies. Many of these soldiers donated generously to a project close to Pio’s heart, the building of a hospital to care for the poor. Today it serves more than a thousand people at any given time.

Padre Pio was canonized a saint in 2002. The film star Shia LaBeouf, who is making a movie about him, has pointed to him as a main factor in his recent embrace of religious values after years of living far differently. St. Pio was well known for his forceful, plainspoken advice about the spiritual life, drawn from his own experiences, many of them difficult ones. He once wrote that:
The most beautiful credo is that which comes from your lips in darkness, in sacrifice, in pain, in the supreme effort of an unbending will for good. It is this which, like a stroke of
lightning, penetrates the darkness of the soul; it is this which in the flash of the tempest lifts you and leads you to God.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, September 11, 2022

St. Joseph School and the parish’s religious education program for public school students are starting a new year. Sacred Scripture has much to say about their importance for our Faith. In the Bible we see not the professional classroom expertise that is so much emphasized today but non-formal education for practical living. God, of course, is the foremost teacher from whom all instruction flows in the law he blesses us with. Psalm 71, 17 rejoices because “Since my youth, O God, you have taught me.” This divinely based education, more valuable than gold or silver, and sweeter than honey (Ps 19, 10) enables us to walk in God’s paths (Isaiah 2, 3) if we receive it in the best way, not with our natural talents or IQs but with humility (see Ps 25, 9). Jesus first revealed himself as a teacher. He is, in fact, the supreme teacher, addressing us with clear authority, power and compassion. All four gospels call him a teacher (see Mt 19, 16; Mk 4, 38; Lk 9, 33 and Jn 1, 38 among other passages). He teaches in the great temple at Jerusalem, but also in the towns and villages his journeys take him to, and in his encounters with the people he meets, such as the Samaritan woman (Jn 4), Zacchaeus (Lk 19, 1-10) and Mary of Bethany (Lk 10, 38-42). He notes that the queen of the south came from far away to hear Solomon’s famed wisdom, but that in himself “something greater than Solomon is here” (Mt 12, 42; Lk 11, 31). Jesus makes masterful use of memory devices in his unforgettable parables and in the contrasts and exaggerations that are so characteristic of ancient Near Eastern speech. He also refers to the mysterious and crucially powerful instructional work of the Holy Spirit, whom he promises to send: “He will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you” (Jn 14, 26). John 1 calls Jesus the wisdom that has entered human life from God but is not recognized by so many in “the world” (Jn 1, 10-11). The Son of God is “the reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very being…”(Hebrews 1,3). It is life’s utmost tragedy not to know him. Other New Testament writings also weigh in about religious education. 2 Timothy 3, 16 reminds us that All scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, so that everyone who belongs to God may be proficient, equipped for every good work.

The NT also insists that personal imitation, especially following Christ in discipleship, is a key element of teaching. Worship, too, is important, as is participation in religious customs. Christians are to revere their religion just as Jewish families have traditionally done for centuries in Israel’s pilgrimage festivals and in parents’ explanations of the great
events of salvation history, most notably at the Passover supper. One of the most venerated prayers of the Jewish tradition, which begins, “Hear, O Israel,” reminds believers that
You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might. Keep these words that I am commanding you today in your heart. Recite
them to your children and talk about them when you are at home and when you are away, when you lie down and when you rise (Deuteronomy 6, 4-7).

The NT clearly insists on the need for parents to pass the faith on to their children, for example, urging fathers to “bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord” (Ephesians 6, 4).

But others in the Church also share in this duty, such as our teachers, who are among today’s disciples of Jesus and who fall within the scope of Christ’s departing instructions to the disciples of his day (see Mt 28, 19-20) as well as Paul’s reminder to his protege Timothy that “the things you have heard me say in the presence of many witnesses entrust to
reliable men who will also be qualified to teach others” (2 Tm 2, 2).

Our religion teaches people, old and young, how to be truly wise, even if so much of what we do inevitably consists of what the English historian Paul Johnson has called “the dull, unrecorded routine of everyday life.” The Old Testament compares God’s wisdom to precious metals (Prv 8, 19), to splendid jewels (Prv 4, 9; 20, 15) and to dawn’s light, “which
shines brighter and brighter until full day” (Prv 4, 18). But its opposite, folly, takes a person to a field infested with thorns (Prv 24, 31).
Christian teaching, a gift of God for the healthy growth of the Church (1 Corinthians 12, 28; Ephesians 4, 1), is to be cherished, handed on and remembered. Please support, assist and pray for all who make it possible in our parish

-Msgr. David Hubba


This Sunday Gospel has to be one of the great attention grabbers of the telling of Jesus. It’s very strong what Jesus says, If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.” And the first thing you say, “Why is He so strong?” and we might think that Jesus is talking to himself.

When we’re children, we used to pray to God for ice-cream cones, bicycles and all these things. And we’re always thinking that to follow Jesus, it means that we get the good stuff, because He himself is full of love and caring. And that’s true. However, He is looking for something else in his disciples. He is looking for resolution, detachment from everything, total and complete commitment to His life. There comes a time in our life when we must take everything seriously. It’s no fooling around. Faith in God is the most important.

I’ll give you one example. James Conley grew up in Overland Park, Kansas, a suburb of Kansas City. His father was a building materials salesman and his mother a housewife; he has one adopted sister. The family was Presbyterian and attended church occasionally. While in college, at the University of Kansas, James Conley studied the “Great Books”— favorites included the Confessions of St. Augustine and the writings of Blessed John Henry Newman—and he converted to Catholicism at age 20. His father was “not too happy” about his conversion— he told him he’d given up the freedom of thinking for himself. “Don’t do that.” And later, when he decided that he would become a Catholic priest, his father was even more upset and said “If you get ordained in that Roman Catholic Church, you’re out of this house and I will never see you again.” And he was torn. But something deep inside him said, “I must do this.” And he did it. And he did it because he felt that he understood the suffering of Jesus and he knew it was the suffering Jesus that was inviting him to come with him into a new world. James entered the seminary and was ordained as a Catholic Priest. It was a matter of time; both his parents converted to Catholicism themselves in 1991. Fr. James was the same one who administered Baptism and Confirmation to his parents. Soon their son will become Bishop of Lincoln, Nebraska.

What Jesus is saying really is this, he is saying, I give you my life. You give me yours. I give without counting the cost. You give me yours without counting the cost. I give you my life to teach you how to love as I love. You give me your life to receive my love and bring it to other people. I begin a mission. You continue it. “But, in the continuing of it, I will never, never, be far from you. I will be with you all days, even to the end of the world.”

And that’s exactly what Jesus is telling his disciples. Yes, you love your mother. Yes, you love your father. But, in choosing me, you must just choose me as your first love. It takes courage. It doesn’t take talent — it takes courage. And you’ve got to have courage to make these kinds of commitments, commitments to your own word. And that’s why no one else, besides me, has the right to say my “yes” or “no” to the decision when Jesus says, “Come follow me.”

With prayer,
Fr. John Radwan

From the Pastor’s Desk, August 28, 2022

The 13th-century Japanese poet Kamo no Cho mei eventually became a Buddhist monk and moved into a tiny dwelling he built on a mountain in a region that had suffered from famine, earthquake, whirlwind and fire. He wrote about his experiences in a classic work entitled The Ten Foot Square Hut, which is familiar to every student in Japan. Describing himself as “a friend of the moon and the wind,” he said, “my only luxury is a sound sleep and all I look forward to is the beauty of the changing seasons.”

Perhaps the closest counterpart to Cho mei’s work in American literature is Henry David Thoreau’s Walden (1854), which relates his efforts to simplify his life as much as possible:
I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. There were some limits to Thoreau’s desire for seclusion. He enjoyed dinners with his friends the Emersons, and his mom brought him pies and did his laundry—but Walden is one of the great books in our tradition. Thoreau once declared, “I love to be alone. I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude.”

Praying benefits from solitude. Jesus’s advice about how to pray well says that “when you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you” (Mt 6, 6). But providing a setting of solitude is not exactly the same thing as praying, something the great modern Benedictine spiritual writer Hubert van Zeller once reminded us of when he wrote that a man may hang about in solitude and not bother to pray. Solitude is not itself praise, witness, gratitude, love. It may provide the best conditions for prayer but it is not prayer. Solitude is to prayer what acoustics are to a concert. You can get the acoustics right but you will still need the music. Prayer requires of us a determined commitment of time and effort.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, August 21, 2022

Last week’s piece had a number of my favorite proverbs, which I hope you enjoyed. I’m sure you have your own. Sayings such as these invite us to enjoy, and benefit from, popular wisdom. But there is a difficulty about proverbs. Sometimes they may contradict each other. For example, in my seminary days of long ago, Monsignor Richard Liddy taught a number of philosophy courses that had a heavy emphasis on the writings of the late Jesuit Bernard Lonergan. I remember a contrast they invoked between the sayings “Look before you leap” and “He who hesitates is lost.”

This reminded me of a remark by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, author of the beloved fantasy tale The Little Prince, that “A goal without a plan is just a wish.” This makes a lot of sense, but it also has to be balanced against something ex-heavyweight boxing champ Mike Tyson said, that “Everyone has a plan until he gets punched in the mouth.”

Despite Tyson’s qualification, it is a fine, and even necessary, idea for us to have a good plan for our lives. Our Faith certainly provides us with an unsurpassable one, which we can find clearly and abundantly expressed in the Catechism of the Catholic Church, our religion’s most comprehensive summary of Catholic beliefs and practices in modern times.
The catechism is built on four pillars, just as all the Church’s previous major catechisms have been:
1. The twelve statements of our Creed.
2. The life we receive from the Sacraments.
3. The description of the Morality Christ wants us to live by.
4. The elements of the Spiritual Life.

Each of these pillars is superbly enriched by specific references to biblical passages and by quotations from the saints and key authors of Catholic history, which are both profitable and enjoyable to encounter. If you are looking for a deeper familiarity with Catholicism and a practical plan for living it, reading the Catechism of the Catholic Church and praying with it is one of the best ways of reaching that goal. Catechetical instruction isn’t supposed to be just for children.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, August 14, 2022

Proverbial wisdom can be very solid and useful. Many times it is also witty and enjoyable to encounter. Every nation has its share. One saying that has taken root in the United
States and in other nations advises: “Don’t ask a man for a favor before he has had his lunch.” A Spanish proverb on a similar theme says: “Never ask of him who has, but of him you know wishes you well.” A Chinese adage counsels that “One kind word will warm three winter months.” Another wisely asserts that “One’s acquaintances may fill the empire, but one’s real friends can be but few.” The Bible also contains many proverbs. In fact, The Old Testament book of Proverbs has thirty-one chapters of them.

Here are some of my own favorites:
• “Happy the man who finds wisdom, the man who gains understanding! For her profit is better than profit in silver, and better than gold is her revenue;… and none of your choice possessions can compare with her” (3, 13-15).
• “The wicked man makes empty profits. But he who sows virtue has a sure reward” (11, 18).
• “A tranquil mind gives life to the body, but jealousy rots the bones” (14, 30).
• “Better a dish of herbs where love is than a fatted ox and hatred with it” (15, 17).
• “The way of the sluggard is hemmed in as with thorns, but the path of the diligent is a highway” (15, 19).
• “Better a dry crust with peace than a house full of feasting with strife.” (17, 1).
• “Like clouds and wind when no rain follows is the man who boastfully promises what he never gives” (25, 14).

Next week’s “Pastor’s Desk” will offer what, I hope, will be a helpful follow-up to this week’s.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the desk of Deacon George Montalvo, August 7, 2022

During the last three years, I have had the blessing and opportunity of celebrating the Sacrament of Baptism in a church in the city of Newark. Most Saturdays, 3-5 families bring their children to be baptized. With this experience I learned the following about Baptism:

  1. Catholics have a high degree of respect for baptism. This is the main reason for bringing their children to be baptized. Nonetheless, they might have different reasons to have their children receive the sacrament. Reasons that may be conscious or not. Some of them might be compelled by their cultural background.
  2. It might also be a lack of Information about the reality of the Sacrament of Baptism. Even though these Catholic families have a high respect for the Sacrament of Baptism, most parents are unaware of the importance of Baptism in their daily family and personal lives. Baptism is the first Sacrament a Catholic receives. It can be received only once; it cannot be repeated. Baptism is necessary to be part of the Church and enables us to receive other Sacraments. But foremost Baptism makes us children of God.
  3. Parents may also not be aware of the role and responsibilities they acquire when their child is baptized. During the celebration of Baptism, parents and godparents are “interviewed” or questioned before the community about three things: the child’s name, their request for baptism, and their commitment as Christian parents. These three are fundamental questions. The first question is always asked in the present tense. The idea here is that it is the first-time parents present their child to God and the community (represented by family and friends). God wants to have a personal relationship with one of his children; He wants to call us by name. He wants to be part of every baptized person. As a member of the Church, the newly baptized person (as the child is maturing) is expected to play his or her role in the life of the community. The second question requires the parents’ affirmation of their free decision to baptize the child. This is the formal petition for the Sacrament. The third one explains the obligation parents have as the first educators in the faith. They should teach their child God’s commandment to love God and neighbor as Christ taught us.
  4. Godparents in many cases have no clear idea of what their role is. The common belief is that godparents might take the place of parents if something happens to the parents.
    The important responsibility of godparents is to help parents fulfill the obligation they are accepting. Their role is two-fold: cheerleading and supervising. The first role is to encourage and inspire the parents to be active teachers by word and example. They become the parents’ support group in the life of the child. The second one is to help and correct parents when their actions or behaviors are going against what is good for their godchild. This is a loving relationship formed to promote everything that will help strengthen the love between the parents and enhance the Christian development of the newly baptized. A Christian parent’s duty is to bring their child from here to heaven.
  5. Families rejoice and celebrate their child’s baptism. Regardless of the reason for baptism, parents are always happy to see their children become sons and daughters of God. The Church trusts these parents to bring up the newly baptized according to the commitment they made at baptism. In a way, every family that baptizes their child becomes a “holy family” since they are taking home not only their child but the now and forever son or daughter of God.

    This has been a great experience that is helping me to understand and appreciate the Sacrament of Baptism more and more, and to realize what a great gift is given to us. I wish you all a wonderful summer and encourage you to take the opportunity to grow in your faith and understanding of the great gifts our faith has in store for you.
    – Deacon George Montalvo

From the Pastor’s Desk, July 31, 2022

August 1 is the feast day of St. Alphonsus Liguori (1696-1787), the founder of the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer. Our Archbishop, Cardinal Joseph Tobin, is a Redemptorist and was once the order’s world leader. The parish I was first assigned to as a priest, Holy Trinity in Hackensack, sent three men into the Redemptorists, Father James Seidel and his brother Father Clarence, and Father John Jerlinski. I don’t know who inspired them to join, but whoever it was helped the Church a great deal.

St. Alphonsus, who came from a noble family near Naples, was such a gifted student that he became both a civil and a Church lawyer at age 16. His father initially opposed his son’s attention to become a priest, finally consenting only after getting permission from the local bishop that Alphonsus would be allowed to remain at home, which is where he took the studies that prepared him for the priesthood. Among his many accomplishments were:
• His excellent preaching. Alphonsus avoided the flowery pomp that characterized preachers of his day, using plain and direct language that could be easily understood by even his least educated parishioners. He once said, “I have never preached a sermon that the poorest old woman in the congregation could not understand.” Someone complimented him in terms any priest would be both proud and humbled to hear: “It is a pleasure to hear your sermons. You forget yourself and preach Jesus Christ.”
• His extensive work giving parish missions. Effectively reaching rural Catholics became a lasting priority for Alphonsus. The Redemptorists became well known for this vital activity,
which persists even now.
• His extensive work as an author. St. Alphonsus wrote more than a hundred books, most notably his Moral Theology, which was issued in many editions and was long a classic in its field, and The Glories of Mary.
• His work as a moral theologian and as a priest in the confessional. Both were enormously influential at a time when the severity of the Jansenists and the laxity of their opposite
numbers were powerful forces. The moderation and kindness of Alphonsus benefited Catholicism enduringly.
• His personal example of persevering holiness in suffering. For the last twenty years of his life St. Alphonsus had to endure painful rheumatism, bouts of scruples and spiritual aridity, and an exasperating struggle to secure his new order’s approval (which, because of secular attacks and the treacherous connivance of one of his own Redemptorists, sadly even led to his exclusion from the religious community he had created!)

It is fair to say that St. Alphonsus’s importance to Catholic history has been greatly underestimated. He is a remarkable saint.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, July 24, 2022

Two of the Apostles were named James, a Hellenistic variant of the Hebrew name Jacob. Monday is the feast of St. James, the brother of John (sons of Zebedee). He is called James the Greater to distinguish him from James the Less. How he acquired this designation is unsure. Some scholars think he got it because he followed Jesus before the other James did, while others have speculated that maybe he was just bigger or older than James the Less.

James the Greater was the first apostle to become a martyr. His death was decreed by Herod Agrippa I in about 44 A.D. This Herod became a good friend of Caligula, who eventually became Emperor of Rome and awarded Herod rule over an expanded realm, including Judea and Samaria. (If you become known by who your friends are, it doesn’t heighten your reputation to be known as a friend of Caligula, who won a reputation for crazed behavior.)

There is a long tradition in Spain that James the Greater preached there and that his body now rests in the famous shrine of Santiago de Compostela in Northwest Spain’s Galicia region, the final destination of a revered pilgrimage route that begins in France and extends more than five hundred miles. Pilgrims prove they have traveled the road by a “passport” that is stamped at various hostels along the way. A wonderful film, The Way (2010), starring Martin Sheen and directed by his son, Emilio Estevez, offers a memorable acquaintance with the pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. While enjoying a golf foursome, Sheen (“Dr. Thomas Avery,” an ophthalmologist) learns that his son Daniel has died in France in a road accident while making the pilgrimage. After his father flies to France to identify his son, he decides to complete his pilgrimage, although he has long since stopped practicing his Catholic Faith. As he walks through some of the most beautiful landscapes you will ever see depicted in film, Dr. Avery meets up with three others who are making the journey: Joost, a loud Dutchman who wants to lose weight; Sarah, a depressed Canadian who wants to quit smoking; and Jack, an Irish author struggling with writer’s block. (The structure was purposefully created to resemble The Wizard of Oz.) Dr. Avery also meets a Catholic priest who is making the pilgrimage and asks him whether he believes in miracles, to which the priest replies, “I’m a priest. It’s kinda my job.” In a clever movie device, we see brief glimpses of the dead son Daniel several times. One time he is in a crowd along the wayside. And when his dad reaches the great church of St. James, we see Daniel helping swing its enormous censer, the renowned botafumeiro. If you ever get a chance to view The Way, I’m sure you will enjoy it and will find it very inspiring.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, July 17, 2022

When I completed my formation for the priesthood as a deacon at St. Mary’s in Nutley many years ago, one of the parishioners invited me to attend a meeting of Gamblers Anonymous, which operates much like Alcoholics Anonymous. There I heard testimonial stories from men who were trying to escape the clutches of a vice that has ruined many
lives. (Today, given our state’s many opportunities to gamble even without the bother of physically attending gambling locales, it is still ruining lives.)

One man at the meeting told of how he used to go to the top of Garret Mountain in Paterson on winter Saturday nights to get radio reports of who won college basketball games he was addicted to betting on. Another guy recalled taking his children to the circus, but instead of enjoying the spectacle, he bet on how many plops of you-know-what the elephants would drop as they paraded around the ring.

Gambling to a harmful extent is nothing new, as the early life of St. Camillus de Lellis (1550-1614) shows. He was a six-foot-six brawler and gambler who worked as a mercenary soldier, at least until he lost his weapons because of gambling. Fortunately, God’s grace proved stronger than his follies, and Camillus, with the help of Capuchin Franciscans, turned his life around. The great St. Philip Neri encouraged Camillus in his resolve to take loving care of the sick in the primitive hospitals of the day. Camillus went on to found fifteen houses of his new religious order, the Ministers of the Sick. Its members wore habits with a large red cross on them. Camillus opened eight hospitals, where he worked until the day he died. When he became too sick to visit the patients by walking, he would crawl to their bedsides to do so.

St. Camillus is the patron saint of nurses, perhaps surprisingly so by physical standards, since he was the size of a tight end in today’s NFL. But his large and tender heart makes his designation eminently justified. His feast day is July 18.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, July 10, 2022

Publications, like people, grow up. Years ago, Columbia, the magazine of the Knights of Columbus, offered interesting articles once in a while but was usually dull. That has changed recently. Now it rewards its readers with excellent pieces by accomplished writers. This June’s issue was especially worthwhile.

Alton Pelowski, Columbia’s editor, writing of the key importance of the Eucharist in Catholic life, takes note of a letter J.R.R. Tolkien, author of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, wrote to his son Michael, who was recovering from injuries he suffered during the Battle of Britain. Tolkien concluded his letter saying that:
Out of the darkness of my life, so much frustrated, I put before you the one great thing to love on earth: the Blessed Sacrament. … There you will find romance, glory, honour, fidelity, and the true way of all your loves upon earth, and more than that: Death: by the divine paradox, that which ends life, and demands the surrender of all, and yet by the … foretaste of
which alone can what you seek in your earthly relationships (love, faithfulness, joy) be maintained, … which every man’s heart desires.

Tom Hoopes has a tender article about his marriage with his wife April, who experienced a severe stroke. Hoopes writes of how the ensuing challenges they have faced together have made them even closer. He recalled an example they used many times when they helped prepare young couples for marriage:
One-flesh union means you have to do things for each other. If she wants the ketchup, don’t tell her, “You have two legs. Get the ketchup yourself!” No. She also has your two legs. Get the ketchup for her.

Finally, Anthony Esolen, one of the very best current Catholic writers, pays tribute to the Catholic movie director John Ford, who created some of the greatest and most varied films in Hollywood history, including Stagecoach, Fort Apache, The Searchers, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, The Quiet Man and How Green Was My Valley (which won the best-film Oscar for 1941, topping Citizen Kane). The last-named picture told of the joys and struggles of an admirable family in a Welsh coal-mining village. When the father of the family declined to participate in a miners’ strike and was threatened for his decision, Beth Morgan and her young son go into the woods where the pro-strikers are meeting and says to them:
How some of you, you smug-faced hypocrites, can sit in the same chapel with him I cannot tell. To say he is with the owners is not only nonsense but downright wickedness. There’s one thing more I’ve got to say and it is this: If harm comes to my Gwilym, I will find out the men and I will kill them with my two hands. And this I will swear by God Almighty!

-Msgr. David Hubba


What does it mean to be truly free? I think it’s a very important question for all of us to ask both as Catholic Christians and as Americans as we celebrate our Independence this coming July 4th. We are grateful to generations of men and women who have served in the military to tirelessly defend the cause of liberty and to safeguard that freedom that
we all enjoy in our country. The notion of freedom itself, however, isn’t something that we’ve invented, nor is it something that was developed by one particular nation or governmental system. Rather, freedom is something built into the human heart and indeed, is a sign of the indwelling presence of God as the Scripture says, “Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom” (2 Corinthians 3:17).

We enjoy many liberties as a country. We can choose how we dress, what we say, the places we decide to go or live. We are blessed to be in a country where we can express our faith freely; a privilege that is not found in every place. It’s tempting to limit our understanding of freedom simply to what we are allowed to do. But freedom runs so much deeper than even the liberties that our Bill of Rights grants to us. As people of faith, we believe that being truly free is not simply about fulfilling every desire that crosses our mind (as appealing as they may be), but rather, is about living for God and allowing God to live in us and bestow peace.

One of the most precious gifts that God has given to each one of us is our free will. It is a powerful gift, and we all have seen the effects in our world when individuals choose to misuse that gift and cause harm. As Catholics, therefore, we have a continual call to use our gift of freedom to choose the good. To say a kind word when it would be easier to be rude. To lift someone up even when others are pushing them down. To turn to the silence of prayer, even in the times when the noises and distractions surrounding us are louder than ever. Remember, we are all on the journey and it takes a lot of practice to discern and frequently choose the good. But if we put effort into it, and rely on God’s grace to sustain those efforts, then we will truly make the world a better place and hear the voice of the Lord saying to each one of us, “Well done, good and faithful servant […] come and share your Master’s happiness!” (Matthew 25:23).

With Prayer,
Fr. Christian

From the Pastor’s Desk, June 26, 2022

For summer reading, you might consider:

Books of Religious Interest
June Cotner and Nancy Cupper Ling’s For Every Little Thing (Eerdmans, 2021), a collection of poems and prayers, especially for children ages 4-10.
One sample, from Rabbi Rami M. Shapiro:
Dear God, When I open my eyes this morning Please let me see you.
You on the bus; You in my teachers …You in all the places I expect; You in all the places I don’t.

Andre Dugast’s Jerome Lejeune: A Man of Science and Conscience (Ignatius, 2021) relates the life of the discoverer of the chromosomal defect that causes Down Syndrome, and his advocacy of its sufferers’ dignity.

Jesuit at Large: Essays and Reviews by Paul Mankowski, S.J. (Ignatius, 2021). Besides being an expert boxer, he was an outstanding writer. He died suddenly in 2021.

Willie Nelson’s Letters to America (Harper Horizon, 2021), with Turk Pipkin. Willie caused his share of troubles, such as asking his nephew to put his car into a burning garage so he could collect insurance money and getting into big-time tax trouble. But, in a letter to his children, he said that “It all starts with the Golden Rule—with treating others as you’d like to be treated.”

Peter Kreeft’s Three Approaches to Abortion: A Thoughtful and Compassionate Guide to Today’s Most Controversial Issue (Ignatius, 2022) is another of his many books that offer acute intelligence in gracefully written clarity.

Literature and Fiction
Stephen Fry’s Troy: The Greek Myths Reimagined (Chronicle, 2021).

Niall Leonard’s M. King’s Bodyguard (Pantheon, 2021) is a thriller in which Chief Superintendent Melville of Scotland Yard seeks to prevent the assassination of Kaiser Wilhelm, who is attending the funeral of his grandmother, Queen Victoria.

David Damrosch’s Around the World in 80 Books (Penguin Press, 20211) spotlights writings about storied locations worldwide.

Ann Patchett’s These Precious Days (Harper, 2021) collects her essays, many on life and time.

Jay Newman’s Undermoney (Scribner, 2022) is an entertaining account of corrupt players in the world of high finance.

James Runcie’s The Great Passion (Bloomsbury, 2022) tells of Bach’s creation of his masterly St. Matthew’s Passion.

History and Biography
Ruth Scurr’s Napoleon: A Life Told in Gardens and Shadows (Liveright, 2021) notes that the emperor loved his wife Josephine greatly, but got rid of her when she didn’t provide an heir for his dynastic ambitions. Josephine was an enthusiastic gardener, a pursuit Napoleon took up in his last exile. His favorite willow tree died in a fierce storm the night before he did.

Daniel S. Levy’s Manhattan Phoenix: The Great Fire of 1835 and the Emergence of Modern New York (Oxford, 2022) has many interesting stories about New York City’s growth.

Don and Patie Kladstrup’s Champagne Charlie (Potomac, 2021) tells of the interesting 19th-century American adventures of Charles Camille Heidsieck, a French champagne merchant.

Allen Guelzo’s Robert E. Lee: A Life (Knopf, 2021), by one of our most distinguished historians, sees Lee as a complex personality.

Ranulph Fiennes’ Shackleton: The Biography (Pegasus, 2022) relates the scarcely believable heroism of the pioneer of Antarctic exploration.

Lindsey Fitzharris’ The Facemaker (Farrar, Straus & Girous, 2022) is about WW I British surgeon Harold Delf Gillies, who developed many innovative techniques to allow horribly disfigured wounded soldiers to live normal lives, and did so with splendid kindness. One soldier later thanked him: “I don’t suppose for one moment that you remember
me … for I was only one of many, but that matters little, for we remember you.”

Alex Kershaw’s Against All Odds (Caliber, 2022) profiles four Medal of Honor winners of WW II, including Audie Murphy.

Robert T. O’Connell’s Team America: Patton, MacArthur, Marshall, Eisenhower, and the World They Forged (HarperCollins Publishers, 2022) describes some of America’s most notable military leaders of WW II.

Giles Milton’s Checkmate in Berlin: The Cold War Showdown That Shaped the Modern World (Holt, 2021) recounts how, when Stalin closed road access to Berlin in 1948-1949, the western allies flew in supplies for 2.4 million Berliners in 1,900 flights a day, one every 96 seconds.

Other Non-Fiction
Oliver Burkeman’s Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals (Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 2021) says we have to make sensible priorities and can’t spend too much time on things such as social media and answering all our e-mails. “… Every decision to use a portion of time on anything,” he writes, “represents the sacrifice of all the other ways in which you could have spent that time, but didn’t.”

Roosevelt Montas’ Rescuing Socrates (Princeton University Press, 2021) is about a Dominican immigrant who finds a volume of Plato in the trash and goes on to teach classics at Columbia. After an initial “intoxicating” acquaintance with thinkers whose Deconstruction and Post-modernism led to today’s “wokeness,” he concludes that “I ran out of patience with the evasiveness, obfuscation, and intellectual vacuity of many of the leading voices in the field. I felt confident enough in my background in philosophy and theory to call bull—where I saw it.”

Michael Schellenberger’s San Francisco: Why Progressives Ruin Cities (Harper, 2021) says that one problem among many is that high taxes and onerous regulations have driven the cost of building housing units for the homeless to $500,000 each.

Paul Litursky’s My Years Assisting J. Edgar Hoover, with Gordon Dillow (Scribner, 2021) notes that Director Hoover had his ways. Only he could write marginal comments in blue ink on reports to him. Litursky recalls that Hoover wrote one comment that said, “Watch the borders!,” which panicked bureau field offices near America’s frontiers until someone understood that he wanted them to pay attention to the margins on their reports.

Sam Kean’s The Icepick Surgeon: Murder, Fraud, Sabotage, Piracy, and Other Dastardly Deeds Perpetrated in the Name of Science (Little, Brown, 2021) tells of how advances in medical science—which we all welcome—have sometimes come about in immoral ways.

Dean Jobb’s The Case of the Murderous Dr. Cream (Algonquin, 2021) reports on the poisoning of his victims in the UK, Canada and the US.

Mary Roach’s Fuzz: When Nature Breaks the Law (Norton, 2021) tells about occurrences such as bears breaking into Colorado homes to steal dinners, monkeys in India treating people like their servants, leopards that kill Indian farmers, the American base at Midway having to close because of an invasion by albatrosses and Australia’s problem of being overrun with rabbits—and the ferrets brought in to control them.

Beth Shapiro’s Life as We Make It: How 50,000 Years of Human Innovation Refined—and Redefined—Nature (Basic, 2021) covers many interesting topics, including the extinction of the passenger pigeon. In 1534, the explorer Cartier noted that a single flock could take days to pass by. But in Petoskey, Michigan, in 1878, approximately 50,000 of them were killed daily over a span of five months. The last passenger pigeon in the wild was shot in Indiana in 1902.

Sean Flynn’s Why Peacocks? An Unlikely Search for Meaning in the World’s Most Magnificent Bird (Simon & Schuster, 2021) informs us that his pet peacock Carl, for all his glamorous colors and 12-foot tail, belongs to a species that defecates abundantly, ruins car paint by attacking its own images reflected in the vehicles, and, during mating season, shrieks loudly enough to be heard several miles away.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, June 19, 2022

Few nowadays have ever heard of the song “Silver Threads Among the Gold,” although it was immensely popular in its day and for many years after. It was released in 1873, the same year that saw the appearance of “Blessed Assurance” and ”Old-Time Religion.” Hart P. Danks wrote its music and Eben Rexford the lyrics. The song sold more than 3 million copies. When songs were reproduced acoustically, it was the most frequently recorded song of all. A 1932 poll by WABC Radio in New York that asked respondents to name their
favorite song placed it first. Over the years it has been recorded by famous singers, including John McCormack, Bing Crosby and Jerry Lee Lewis. Some of the song’s lyrics read:

Darling, I am growing old, Silver threads among the gold, Shine upon my brow today, Life is fading fast away.
But, my darling, you will be Always young and fair to me….

Love can never more grow old, Locks may lose their brown and gold; Cheeks may fade and hollow grow, But the hearts that love will know,
Never, never winter’s frost and chill; Summer warmth is in them still….

Life didn’t work out well for Danks. A year after his song was released, his marriage failed. He never saw his wife again. In 1903 the landlady of the poor rooming house in Philadelphia where he resided found his dead body on the floor next to his piano. By his side was a copy of “Silver Threads Among the Gold”. On it, he had written, “It’s hard to
die alone….”

On this Father’s Day, I hope the fathers of our parish can look upon their own marriages with grateful hearts. Jesus Christ counts on the efforts of men living as good husbands and fathers to get so much of his most important work done.

Every Christian marriage is meant to be a reflection of what God wants the Church to be and to accomplish. Happy Father’s Day to each of you!

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, June 12, 2022

James Russell Lowell’s reputation as a poet is not what it was in his 19th-century time, but he had his moments. His line “And what is so rare as a day in June?” still awakens enjoyment as we pass through the days of our current month. It comes from his delightful and deeply Christian poem The Vision of Sir Launfal, Lowell’s take on the legend of the Holy Grail, the cup Jesus shared with his apostles at the Last Supper.

As he savors the marvels of spring, the knight Launfal recalls a vow he once made to search for the Grail, then dreams about it. He sees his own castle:
… the castle alone in the landscape lay
Like an outpost of winter, dull and gray;
‘Twas the proudest hall in the North Countree,
And never its gates might opened be
Save to lord or lady of high degree….

As Launfal sets out on his quest, he recalls seeing a leper at his gate, who
… seemed the one blot on the summer morn—
So he tossed him a piece of gold in scorn.

The leper regards this as no true alms. Sir Launfal’s dream is interrupted by a description of a winter of shivering cold. The knight, now a white-haired old man, is enjoying Christmas in his hall, even as a shelterless wanderer is turned away. His dream resumes, seeing him return from his quest to an unwelcome surprise:
… turned from his own hard gate,
For another heir in his earldom sate;
An old, bent man, worn out and frail,
He came back from seeking the Holy Grail;
Little he recked of his earldom’s loss;
No more on his surcoat was blazoned the cross,
But deep in his soul the sign he wore,
The badge of the suffering and the poor.

Launfal encounters the pleading leper a second time, who begs him:
For Christ’s sweet sake, I beg an alms.

And Sir Launfal says:
… I behold in thee
An image of Him who died on the tree.
Thou also hast had thy crown of thorns,
Thou also hast had the world’s buffets and scorns,
And to thy life were not denied
The wounds in the hands and feet and side.
Mild Mary’s Son, acknowledge me;
Behold, through him, I give to Thee!
He parted in twain his single crust,
He broke the ice on the steamlet’s brink,
And gave the leper to eat and drink.
‘Twas a moldy crust of coarse, brown bread,
‘Twas water out of a wooden bowl—
Yet with fine wheaten bread was the leper fed,
And ‘twas red wine he drank with his thirsty soul.

And it was no longer the leper who was before Launfal, but Christ himself, who says:
Lo, it is I, be not afraid!
In many climes, without avail,
Thou hast spent thy life for the Holy Grail;
Behold, it is here—this cup which thou
Didst fill at the streamlet for Me but now;
This crust is My body broken for thee;
This water His blood that died on the tree;
The Holy Supper is kept, indeed,
In whatso we share with another’s need;
Not what we give, but what we share,
For the gift without the giver is bare;
Who gives himself with his alms feeds three,
Himself, his hungering neighbor, and Me.

Here Sir Launfal’s vision ends. From then on, his castle gate stood open to the poor—and to summer.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, June 5, 2022, PENTECOST SUNDAY

This week is rich in literary history Catholics can reflect on with benefit. I captured the items from Tom Nissley’s delightful reference book A Reader’s Book of Days (W.W. Norton, 2014).

Graham Greene had a stormy relationship with fellow writer J. B. Priestly. It was so bad that it almost reached the libel court. But Greene mellowed after the BBC had Priestly give a series of radio talks about the practically miraculous evacuation of British and French troops from Dunkirk, where the Nazis had them trapped during World War II. He and Churchill were the main voices fortifying Britain’s resolve early in the war. Graham later wrote that “for those dangerous months he was unmistakably a great man.”

This year marks the 40th anniversary of the death of the poet Kenneth Rexroth. He was not a Catholic, but spoke importantly on matters anyone should regard as important. He once said that: “The mature man lives quietly, does good privately, assumes personal responsibility for his actions, treats others with friendliness and courtesy, finds mischief boring and keeps out of it. Without this hidden conspiracy of good will, society would not endure an hour.”

In 1958, Ross Bagdasarian, younger cousin of the playwright William Saroyan, created—and provided the voices for—the greatly popular 1958 record album “The Chipmunk Song,” which he released under the name of Dave Seville.

In a 1943 issue of the New Republic, critic Malcolm Cowley called T. S. Eliot’s Four Quartets “one of those rare books that can be enjoyed without being understood.”

On June 8, 1290, Beatrice Portinari died at age 24. She was the inspiration for Dante’s Beatrice, his guide through Purgatory in the Divine Comedy. Dante had loved her since they were children, although he had met her just once.

In 1972, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn gave Harvard’s commencement address, which, in Tom Nissley’s words, “proclaimed that the West, with all its material abundance, was weakened by cowardice, decadence, mediocrity, and spiritual exhaustion.”

For years the brilliant Catholic writer Flannery O’Connor exchanged hundreds of letters with an Atlanta clerk named Betty Hester, who wanted to be identified only as “A” in O’Connor’s collection of letters, The Habit of Being, one of the great spiritual books of our times. Flannery’s last letter to “A,” written from her hospital bed in 1964, told her that
“I sure don’t look like I’ll ever get out of this joint.” Her prediction was on target, since she died that year at the age of just 39.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, May 29, 2022

During this season of the NBA playoffs, some of us may remember when the New York Knicks were formidable contenders for championships. One of their fine players from that era was Jerry Lucas, a tall forward who had starred for Ohio State teams before his professional career, during which knee troubles limited his success. Lucas had a phenomenal memory, and wrote a book about it called The Memory Book. He made a number of appearances on late-night TV, including on Johnny Carson’s “Tonight” show, where he
demonstrated his unusual talent. Lucas memorized Mario Puzo’s novel The Godfather, the basis for the famous movie of the same title. He also memorized the Manhattan telephone directory, and could provide the phone number of anyone listed in it.

This is Memorial Day weekend, when we are asked to gratefully remember those who have given their lives for our nation. It has its roots as a commemoration of our Civil War dead and has since grown to include those who have given their lives in America’s subsequent conflicts. This is a hallowed tradition for us, one that should mean much more than the launching of this year’s summer (even though summer actually starts a few weeks into June). Ideally, it should be an exception to an observation by the 17th-century poet Robert Herrick, who wrote:

O time that cut’st down all
And scarce leav’st here
Of any men that were.

We should never forget those who gave their all, including life itself, for us.
-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, May 22, 2022

The Marianists (The Society of Mary) are a religious order with roots in 19th-century France during the greatly troubled times following the French Revolution, which was hostile, often violently so, to the Church. But our religion is not easily extinguished.

Blessed William Joseph Chaminade (1761-1850), a priest from Bordeaux, and two women collaborators, founded the Marianists, whose branches included faith communities of priests, sisters and lay people. When their presence reached the United States, the Bishop of Cincinnati sent one of their priests, Father Leo Meyer, to Emmanuel parish in Dayton, during an outbreak of cholera. There he met John Stuart, who had lost a daughter to the epidemic and wished to return to Europe. Father Meyer gave him a St. Joseph medal
and promised to come up with $12,000 to buy Stuart’s farm, 125 acres of vineyards and orchards. Soon, in 1850, a school started there that eventually became the University of Dayton.

That university includes the world’s largest library dedicated to Mary. Besides a staggering number of books, it has galleries of art and Marian artifacts, and study facilities. It also has an impressive website,, a wonderful resource for anyone who would like to know more about Our Lady or pray about her more effectively. On it, you can find the encyclopedia All About Mary, the Church’s documents about Mary, art works, music and many other items that are a joy to explore for anyone devoted to her, whether in her traditional month of May or at any other time.
-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, May 15, 2022

At my first assignment in Hackensack, we would get visitors who wanted money. Some lived in rooming houses, others had just been released from jail or were otherwise down on their luck. One day, when a petitioner asked for $5 for something to eat and I wasn’t doing anything, I followed him on his journey to a nearby place of refreshment, a tavern near the Anderson St. railroad station called the Charl-Marie. I assumed, I’m embarrassed to say, he was going there for a bit of a nip. It wasn’t until much later that it occurred to me that this very respectable establishment also sold food and that maybe the man was there to get a hamburger.

The great 18th-century writer Samuel Johnson had a far more humane attitude than I did. His friend Hester Thrale noted in her journal that: “He loved the poor as I never yet saw anyone else do, with an earnest desire to make them happy. What signifies, says some one, giving halfpence to common beggars? “They only lay it out in gin or tobacco.” And why (says Johnson) should they be denied such sweeteners of their existence? It is surely very savage to deny them every possible avenue to pleasure, reckoned too coarse for our own acceptance. Life is a pill which none of us can bear to swallow without gilding; yet for the poor we delight in stripping it still barer, and are not ashamed to show even visible displeasure, if ever the bitter taste is taken from their mouths.”

Johnson was a sincerely religious man. For many years during Holy Week and the Easter season, he would examine his conscience and pray for improvement. In 1757, he reflected:
“Pardon my sins, remove the impediments that hinder my obedience. Enable me to shake off sloth, and to redeem the time misspent in idleness and sin by a diligent application of the days yet remaining to the duties which thy Providence shall allot me. O God, grant me thy Holy Spirit, that I may repent and amend my life, grant me contrition, grant me resolution for the sake of Jesus Christ, to whose covenant I now implore admission, of the benefits of whose death I implore participation. For his sake, have mercy on me, O God; for his sake, O God, pardon and receive me. Amen.”

In 1775, Johnson looked at himself with searching and unsparing honesty and prayed: “When I look back on resolutions of improvements and amendments, which have
year after year been made and broken, either by negligence, forgetfulness, vicious idleness, casual interruption, or morbid infirmity, when I find that so much of my life has stolen unprofitably away, and that I can descry by retrospection scarcely a few single days properly and vigorously employed, why do I yet try to resolve again? I try because reformation is necessary and despair is criminal. I try in humble hope of the help of God…”

The Easter season still has several weeks to go. I think we can benefit from Samuel Johnson’s prayers.
-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, May 8, 2022

Because May is First Communion season, I thought you might like to have a few observations about its importance. So here’s my train of thought—although it may be more
like a little red wagon. When I made my own First Communion in 1955, just after the craze about the frontier hero Davy Crockett, we experienced it on a Saturday morning, just a day after we made our First Confessions. The morning was far preferable to the afternoon since, back then, communicants had to fast from food and drink, even from water, from the previous midnight. The boys wore white suits and shoes, and the girls wore white dresses and shoes. (After I was ordained a priest, the parish I first served in during the 1970s
decided to “ride with the times,” and let the clothing choice rest with each family. One girl arrived in a dress that wasn’t white, which became the cause of much crying. Some years
later, those who set the trends decided to make First Communions more family-centered and, at the same time, encourage greater attendance at Sunday Mass. We are
still hoping for favorable results from this procedure.)

But comparing the above to the most important reality of First Communion, namely the true presence of Jesus Christ given to us under the divine disguise of sanctified bread
and wine, is like making a quantitative comparison between tiny Mercury and gigantic Jupiter in our solar system.

Last week’s “Pastor’s Desk” mentioned the teachings of St. Cyril of Jerusalem to the newly baptized in the weeks after Easter. In one of them, Cyril gave a deeper explanation of the Eucharist to the new Catholics, one all of us should remember. After recalling Jesus’ words at the Last Supper, that the bread and wine, when blessed, are then his body and blood, he wrote that: “Therefore, it is with complete assurance that we receive the bread and wine as the body and blood of Christ. His body is given to us to under the symbol of bread, and his blood is given to us under the symbol of wine, in order to make us by receiving them one body and blood with him. Having his body and blood in our members, we become bearers of Christ and sharers, as St. Peter says, in the divine nature.” … Do not, then, regard the Eucharistic elements as ordinary bread and wine: they are in fact the body and blood of the Lord, as he himself has declared. Whatever your senses may tell you, be strong in faith.
-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, May 1, 2022

St. Cyril of Jerusalem (c. 315-386), by nature a very kind man, had the misfortune of living in greatly stressful and roiled times when theological controversies produced rancorous results that sometimes led to political conflicts with Roman emperors and even street violence. But although the issues at stake can easily strike modern people as impossibly complex and fruitless, they were actually very important.

In Cyril’s case they involved the teachings of a priest named Arius, who held that Jesus was not really divine. This belief
prompted some other theologians to hold that he was somewhat divine, and still others, who won the Church’s endorsement at several of the early ecumenical (or worldwide) councils, to clarify the doctrine that he was a divine person with two complete natures, those of God and of a human being. (This is what we profess every Sunday when we pray our Creed.)

Cyril was named to a post of prestige as the bishop of Jerusalem. But he ran into problems because Jerusalem was then under the authority of the bishop of Caesarea, one
of those who taught that Jesus was just divine to a certain extent. This led to Cyril’s being deposed and banished three times before he finally became secure in his episcopacy.
Although not all of St. Cyril’s writings have survived, his renown is secure because of his works on catechesis (religious instruction). They number 24 in all. After an introductory one, the next 18 were explanations of the Creed meant to prepare those who would embrace the Faith in their Easter baptisms. The last five, sometimes known as Mystagogical Catecheses, provided deeper instructions for the newly baptized during the time after Easter.

– Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, April 24, 2022 (Divine Mercy Sunday)

Other post-resurrection appearances of Christ include the following:
1) To Mary Magdalen (Jn 20, 1-18), and to her along with Joanna and Mary the mother of James (Lk 24, 12): N. T. Wright points out that the resurrection was clearly a surprise to the three women. Jn’s account honors Mary Magdalen as the first person to report the empty tomb to the apostles and also reports her conversation with Jesus.
2) To two disciples on the road to Emmaus (Lk 24, 35): Here Jesus, who at first is unrecognized as evening falls, explains the OT Scriptures that foretold him and then breaks bread with them as he had done with the apostles at the Last Supper. This is still the pattern for the Mass’s Liturgies of the Word and the Eucharist.
3) To his disciples, when he eats fish with them (Lk 24, 36-39): Here we have assurance that the Lord’s bodily life endures.
4) When he empowers his followers to forgive sins (Jn 20, 19-23): The Church’s Council of Trent cited this passage as the biblical justification for the
sacrament of Penance.
5) When he addresses the apostle Thomas’s initial doubts and elicits from him a profession of his divinity (Jn 20, 24-29): In their commentary on Jn, Francis Martin and William M. Wright IV note that “Thomas identifies the risen Jesus with the Lord God, ‘YHWH himself,’ and call his statement “the most robust profession of faith in the Gospel … .”
6) When he shares a breakfast with the apostles at the Sea of Galilee (Jn 21, 1)
7) At Peter’s rehabilitation and the conferral of Peter’s future assignment (Jn 21, 15-19): Martin and William Wright express the Catholic interpretation of Jesus’s encounter with Peter with fullness and clarity: “This exchange … provides much food for thought about the ministry of the pope and basic aspects of the Christian life, such as sin, repentance, and discipleship. When Peter denied Jesus three times, he rejected his relationship with Jesus. In this scene, which recalls Peter’s denials, we see the tremendous love and mercy of Jesus for Peter. Jesus makes the first move and initiates the conversation with Peter. He invites Peter to repent and return to him by professing his love. With Peter’s threefold profession of love, his three-fold denial is undone, and Jesus restores the relationship between them. Jesus’ mercy is so complete that he does not hold Peter’s past sins against him. Instead, Jesus gives Peter the honor and responsibility of serving as the delegated shepherd of his sheep.”

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, April 17, 2022 (EASTER SUNDAY)

Saint Julie Billiart Catholic Church, Hamilton, OH

The scripture scholar Gary Habermas has written several books and many articles about the resurrection, all of them strong defenses of its reality. After observing that no serious student denies that Jesus was crucified and that his followers were convinced that he had appeared to them afterwards, Habermas asserts ten impressive arguments in favor of the resurrection as Christians have long professed it. What follows condenses them into the limited space a weekly bulletin article allows for.

Habermas begins with St. Paul’s writings, which were finished even before the final versions of the Gospels. Paul himself says that he preached material he had previously received (1 Cor 5, 2-7), almost certainly from Peter and James (Gal 1, 18-20). The great English biblical commentator C. H. Dodd, speaking of a two-week stay of Paul with Peter, remarked that “we may presume they did not spend all the time talking about the weather.” Paul would also confer with Peter, James and John, the foremost apostles, on a second occasion. Paul was happy to say that they endorsed his preaching content about the resurrection appearances of Christ (see 1 Cor 15, 11-15). Furthermore, we must not forget that Paul himself was an eyewitness to the Risen Lord, the immediate and decisive explanation of his conversion (Acts 1, 1-9; 22, 1-11; 26, 9-19; 1 Cor 15, 8; 9, 1).

Other NT non-Pauline writings contribute further support for the reality of the resurrection. The accounts in Acts contain material that is clearly older than the book itself, which takes us back to just a short time after the historical events. Scholars have identified instances of Semitic usage in the book, especially in accounts of the preaching of St. Peter
(Acts 2, 22-33; 3, 14-15; 26; 10, 39-43). His preaching very simply recounts the resurrection, which is usually also a sign that the material it relates comes from an earlier layer of tradition.

The Gospels have plenty to say about the resurrection and the Lord’s appearances following it. The importance of Jesus’s empty tomb is, of course, of crucial importance. Habermas notes that the first witnesses to it were women and that, in those times, women were not usually allowed to be formal witnesses in Jewish courts so, if these accounts were just made up by Jesus’s followers, why wouldn’t they have claimed it was men who reported them? And the reports of the empty tomb were made in Jerusalem, where it would have been easily possible to inspect the burial place to see if it was truly empty. And if Jewish leaders wanted to spread the story that the Lord’s body was stolen
by his followers (Mt 28, 11-15), at the very least this is testimony that the tomb was indeed empty.

Habermas concludes his defenses of the resurrection’s reality as follows: “Surprisingly, comparatively few recent critical scholars think that the resurrection can be explained naturally. … Most succinctly, the evidence indicates that Jesus died, but was still seen afterwards. Since naturalistic theories fail to explain these two aspects, the best conclusion
is that Jesus was raised from the dead.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, April 10, 2022 (Palm Sunday)

Theology has a dual description of the saving work of Jesus Christ, which distinguishes “objective redemption” (what the Lord did to save us) from “applied redemption” (how Christ’s salvific deeds are passed on to us). The great season that awaits us in the Triduum of Holy Week leads us into Easter, when we rejoice that through baptism the Lord has offered us, if we are willing to accept it, rescue from our sins and promotion to an entirely new range of life in union with him. The traditional term for this is “sanctifying grace,” which is considered to be both “healing” and “elevating.”

The healing feature cures both Original Sin, which is not our fault but rather the inherited weakness of our humanity that results from Adam’s sin, and “actual sins,” which we are to blame for once we have reached the stage in life when we are responsible for our decisions and actions. The elevating aspect inducts us into God’s life of faith, hope and love, enlarging our capacity for living.

Holy Thursday celebrates Christ’s gift of himself in the Eucharist, recalled and made present again at every Mass. At the Last Supper, Jesus prayed over simple bread and wine, saying that, from then on, they are his true body and blood, given to us as our spiritual food and as victory over the forces of sin. On Good Friday we recall the Lord’s suffering and death, the sacrifice he willingly offered, despite his human revulsion for what awaited him, for the pardoning of our wrongs. This is his ultimate expression of obedience to his Father’s will, worth more than any merely human apology can give. Easter’s triumphant conquest of Christ’s death and ours can be seen as the victory of his unsurpassable sacri1ice. After the Risen Lord’s manifestations of this conquest to his followers over the weeks that immediately follow the resurrection, he returns to heaven, as the feast of the Ascension celebrates. He does not disconnect from us or abandon us, but sends the Holy Spirit to enliven and guard the Church he has formed and of which he continues to be the head. Humanity was in a sorry state before the Son of God came to dwell with us. Unless we can appreciate our disability without him, we can hardly value what he offers us. Jesus Christ not only repaired the damage sin did to us, but has recreated us to be God’s children. This means that our situation after his coming is much more than just a restoration to the human condition as it existed before Adam’s sin. The startling words about Original Sin embedded in the Easter Vigil’s magnificent “Exultet” summarize things so well: “O happy fault that won for us such a redeemer!

The coalescence of all these saving events, and their continuing call to us to renew our baptismal commitment, especially by regular participation in the Eucharist at Mass, are of incomparable importance and necessity. Together they comprise the Paschal Mystery.
-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, April 3, 2022

The divine person Jesus Christ had a complete human nature as well as his nature as God. What was he like in his humanity as we meet him in the Gospels? The late lay theologian
Frank Sheed addressed this topic in a number of his works. This article relies on his insights. Sheed, a native of Australia and law student there, moved to England, where he married Maisie Ward, daughter of a prominent Catholic family. Both took part in the activities of the Catholic Evidence Guild, which defended Catholic beliefs in outdoor settings to all who cared to listen. Together they founded the publishing firm Sheed and Ward. Its branches in London and New York introduced many great European Catholic authors to English-speaking readerships. Frank and Maisie eventually settled in Jersey City and are buried in the city’s Holy Name Cemetery.

Mr. Sheed cautions us about seeing the Jesus of the Gospels as being invariably meek and mild, although these qualities are strongly present in him: “Loving-kindness is very far from being the whole picture. His speech is terse and to the point, with no sentimentality at all. Most of what he said would not go very well with most of the statues and paintings.”

We are told that he loved “his own” (the apostles) to the end (Jn 13, 1) and had a special affection for one of them, that he had close friends in Martha, Mary and Lazarus, and that he loved the rich young man who declined to follow him because he was attached to his possessions. Jesus praises only a few people:
Nathanael, “an Israelite without guile” (Jn 1, 47); a centurion of great faith (Mt 8, 11); a scribe who is “not far from the kingdom” (Mk 12, 34); Mary of Bethany, who “has chosen the better part” (Lk 10, 42); and John the Baptist, of whom he said that “no man born of woman is greater than he” (Lk 7, 28).

Jesus could be very vehement about upholding what was morally right and denouncing what was wrong. To the chief priests and the elders he said that tax collectors and harlots would enter the kingdom of God before them (Mt 21, 31). He compared some of the scribes and Pharisees who opposed him to whitewashed tombs filled with dead men’s bones, and, in case that didn’t get their attention, he called them a “brood of vipers” (Mt 23, 27-29). And when Peter opposed the Lord’s prediction of his passion and death, right after his great act of faith in Jesus, Jesus immediately reprimanded him, saying “Get behind me, Satan” (Mt 16, 23). He also ransacked the tables of the Temple’s moneychangers, calling them thieves (Mt 21, 31).

Jesus experienced hunger, weariness and temptation. He also knew the frustration of having followers who were slow to catch on to his teachings, and who sought positions of power for themselves, and, in the case of Judas, the pain of treachery from one of his closest disciples.

There was complexity in Jesus because of his true humanity. This makes him more human. The same is true of his sinlessness. We have probably, at one time or another, excused our moral lapses by saying that we are “only human.” But sin makes us less human.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, March 27, 2022

The Council of Chalcedon (451) formally defined the relation of Jesus’s divinity and humanity when it declared that he was one divine person who possessed two complete natures, one of God and one of mankind. (The term “person” refers to who someone is, while the term “nature” indicates a person’s capabilities.) These sharpened distinctions were not sudden discoveries of the fifth century but truths implicit in the biblical texts and in the Church’s growth in exploring them in the times that followed.

This week we will consider Christ’s divine nature as Scripture asserts it. The Jesuit theologian Domenico Grasso’s description of miracles is comprehensive and concise. He wrote that they are: tangible facts (evident to the senses); above natural forces; caused by God; and having a religious or moral purpose. The Gospels preserve the memory of more than 30 miracles Jesus worked. Most can be categorized as:
-nature miracles, including the changing of water into wine at Cana (Jn 2, 1:11), the miraculous catch of fish (Lk 5, 1-11) and the calming of the storm on the Sea of Galilee (Mt 8, 23:27)
-healings, the most numerous category, including the cleansing of the lepers (Lk 17, 12-19) and the cure of the man blind from birth (Jn 9, 1-41) – two of twenty in all
-deliverances from demonic possession and mental illness, for example, the Gerasene demoniacs (Mt 8, 28-34) and the Epileptic boy (Mt 17, 14-21)
-resuscitations of the dead (which differ from Jesus’ resurrection, since those others restored to life would eventually die), including the restoration to life of the daughter of Jairus (Lk 8, 41-42 and 49-56), the son of the widow of Naim (Lk 7, 11-17) and Lazarus (Jn 11, 1-44)

The two greatest theologians in the Church’s history after biblical times are St. Augustine (354-430) and St. Thomas Aquinas (c. 1225-1274). Both regarded the miracles of Jesus as key indications of his divinity. Augustine once said that “I should not be a Christian but for the miracles.” Aquinas wrote that “The faith of Christ believed by the saints and handed down to us has been marked by the seal of God shown in works no creature can perform. These are the miracles by which Christ has confirmed holy apostolic doctrine.”

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, March 20, 2022

During the next few weeks of Lent we will concentrate on Jesus’s public life and works and their background.

The Roman Empire controlled the Holy Land from 63 B.C. until well after Christ’s lifetime. Rome’s methods combined tolerance of local customs with a harsh use of force. National ways, including the administration of local government and the free practice of religion, were allowed to continue provided that the people submitted to Roman authority and foreign policy and paid the burdensome imperial taxes. Worry-free areas would be put in the charge of prominent Roman nobles. The emperor or his military delegates would oversee the more troublesome regions. The Romans often used subservient client kings, but would not hesitate to remove them if they were ineffective or unreliable.

Herod the Great was one such king, ruling Palestine from 40 to 4 B.C.. Although in many ways his reign was orderly and prosperous, he also ruled with an iron grip that was worsened by his suspicious nature. His building projects were marvels of their time, and their remains still fascinate us. He launched a project to rebuild Jerusalem’s Temple with unprecedented magnificence; built lavish palaces (including at Masada, the fortress that dominated the western Dead Sea area); constructed the largely buried fortress called the
Herodium, which he intended as his mausoleum; built an artificial harbor (with engineering’s first use of concrete); and erected the massive walls over Abraham and Sarah’s tombs at Hebron.

After Herod died, his kingdom was split among his three sons. Two got small territories. The third, Archelaus, the most talented and best connected, received much of what today is most of Israel and the West Bank. But his tyrannical ways led to organized petitions to the emperor for his removal, so that, from 6 A.D. on, his kingdom was governed by a Roman procurator, who was nominally under the authority of the Roman governor of Syria but was pretty much on his own. The most famous of these procurators was Pontius Pilate, who ruled at the time of Jesus’s death. Pilate had a military force of about 3,000 not Roman legionaries but auxiliaries, many of them Syrians, Samaritans or Arabs. When their usually decisive ruthlessness was not enough to control unruly situations (which were not uncommon), the procurator could call on the Roman legion based in Syria for speedy help. The procurator also had authority over the judiciary (although Jewish religious courts handled most incidents), the heavy Roman taxes and the police.

Israel was theoretically a theocracy, a nation ruled by God. The High Priest held liturgical preeminence and had considerable standing among Jews, but he was very much under Rome’s thumb. Under him were some 25,000 Temple officials, including about 7,000 priests and many other workers who performed a wide range of tasks. Scribes (Biblical scholars), mostly laymen, including a considerable number of Pharisees and some priests, were even more influential. Their chief teachers (rabbis) attracted followers who would
accompany them for instruction. Their influence exceeded that of the Sadducees, religious traditionalists, usually from the wealthy classes.
-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, March 13, 2022

Last Sunday’s bulletin explored our Catholic faith as a religion revealed to us by God. It emphasized how the Lord disclosed to us life’s central truths, some of which are accessible to our unaided human intelligence and others of which we can know only by trusting God’s teachings as communicated to us through Scripture and Tradition, both divinely guided, preserved and proclaimed by the Church Jesus left us.

This week we look to the supreme revelation of God, Jesus Christ, the Son of God who took on a real human nature and united himself with those who believe in him. His gift to us was not just a magnificent course of valid teachings, but himself. God’s ultimate revelation to us is not only a set of truths (which it certainly is), but a divine person who became like us in all things but sin (see Hb 4, 15).

We usually think of words as being language that allows us to share ideas. But God’s words in the Bible also imply his stirring actions that cure our failings and build his kingdom in our lives. The Gospel of John begins by referring to Jesus as the Word of God. And Hb 1, 12 tells us that:
In many and various ways God spoke of old to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son.

Jesus shows us most clearly what God’s life is, and also what our lives should be. It is in his person, and in his teachings and actions, that God shows himself to us as his supreme Revelation. The Catechism of the Catholic Church summarizes this reality with succinct clarity when it says that:
God has revealed himself fully by sending his own Son, in whom he has established his covenant forever. The Son is the Father’s definitive Word; so there will be no further Revelation after him (CCC #73)

Jesus invites us to an unprecedented relationship with God and with each other. This is God’s intended gift of love that will completely fulfill our yearnings. In the remaining Sundays of Lent we will explore the public life of Jesus. He is God’s fullest disclosure of what and who we believe.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, March 6, 2022

Catholicism is a revealed religion, meaning that it has been disclosed to us by God, who communicates his true teachings to us, with all their wisdom and goodness. Some of these truths can be discerned by our rational intelligence, which is what is meant by natural revelation. Good examples of natural revelation are the Ten Commandments and the immortality of the soul, which can be known by some people of acute intelligence but which others are not capable of figuring out, whether they lack the aptitude to do so or because they are busy with other necessary responsibilities. God reveals these teachings, even though they are otherwise available, so that no one will be deprived of the truth.

Other truths would never be learned, or even suspected, by us unless God taught them to us by supernatural revelation, or disclosures God gives us that surpass our human powers of knowing. Among these are God’s existence as a trinity of persons, each having divine nature while remaining three different persons; the Incarnation, by which the Son of God assumed a human nature without relinquishing his divine nature; and the real presence of Christ in the Eucharistic elements of bread and wine, specially consecrated at Mass. In such teachings a kind of curtain is opened by God, allowing us to see what would otherwise be hidden from us.

The revealed truths are offered to us through the books of Scripture and through the tradition that has been passed down to us. Both are in the custody of the Church, which is appointed by God to protect them and to share them with us. The term “orthodox” (right teaching) describes our possession of these divine truths.

The late Jesuit priest Father John Hardon gave us a needed reminder of a sobering reality when he wrote that “orthodoxy is no guarantee of perseverance and still less of living up to what the faith demands.” A well -spent Lent will help.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, February 27, 2022

Frederick the Great, the second king of Prussia, had a terrifying father, king Friedrich Wilhelm I, who went to almost unbelievable measures to toughen his son. He carried a heavy bamboo cane, which he didn’t hesitate to use on anyone he thought deserved it, rich or poor alike. Once Friedrich saw one of his subjects cross a street to avoid him, because, he said, he was afraid. “Afraid?! Afraid?! You’re supposed to love me!” As he caned the citizen to the ground, he added, “Love me, scum!” Much worse for his son, he had Frederick’s friend, an army captain, shot while Frederick was forced to watch. (The two had run off to England without permission, causing Friedrich Wilhelm to suspect that something treasonous was going on.) Frederick eventually became warlike enough to at least faintly evoke his father’s memory.

But Frederick the Great, who saw himself as a champion of the Enlightenment, also had ambitions for higher culture. He played the flute, dabbled in composition and hired one of Bach’s sons as his court musician. Frederick was greatly pleased when he learned that the elder Bach would be visiting Berlin, and invited him to an audience, at which he set Bach to the enormously difficult challenge of improvising, on the spot, five variations of a fugue the king gave him. Bach wound up doing eight variations.

Like Bach, Handel was a devout Lutheran. The two grew up not very far from each other, but never met. Handel went to England to seek his fortune, and there composed his great works, including Water Music, Music for the Royal Fireworks and, of course the Messiah. At one point, he and Bach were both in Germany briefly and tried to get together, but it didn’t happen.

It’s nice to think that that disappointment has since been remedied. And it would be fascinating to eavesdrop on the conversation that Handel and Bach, the composer of so many immortal fugues, harpsichord pieces and cantatas, might have. The cantatas were musical meditations on the biblical texts for the Lutheran worship of Bach’s time. In his capacity of organist and music director at St. Thomas’s Church in Leipzig, Bach wrote hundreds of them, many of which were later lost, some as kindling for fireplaces.

Some years ago, a priest I was assigned with came back from a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. He gave the rectory priests business cards from a merchant who ran a religious gift shop in Jerusalem. They said, “If you meet me and forget me, you have lost nothing. If you meet Jesus Christ and forget him, you have lost everything.” As Lent begins, we should try to remember that.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, February 13, 2022

2021 Deaths of Business Notables:

Bernard Madoff: In an historic fraud, he bilked people out of $65 billion by creating phony statements at his investment firm. Among those who lost their life’s savings were Elie Wiesel (survivor of the Holocaust and world-famous writer) and the Wilpon family, former owners of the Mets baseball team, and thousands of elderly people. His son Mark committed suicide on the second anniversary of the revelation of the schemer’s misdeeds.
Spencer Silver: In 1968, his experiments yielded an adhesive that left no residue. A colleague, Art Fry, came up with the idea of using the results as for choir hymnals. The ultimate outcome was Post-It Notes. Silver’s employer, 3M, gained the financial benefits.
Ron Popeil: A greatly successful seller of products on TV, including Veg-O-Matic, spray-on hair and the Pocket Fisherman. His signature line was, “But wait, there’s more!”
George M. Sherman: After working in managements for GE and Black and Decker, he ran the Danaher Corporation and saw it grow 20 times over. A close friend recalled that “relaxing with George was exhausting.” He died from complications of a brain injury he suffered after his daily Peleton bike workout.
Nikolas Davatzes: He took the A&E channel to a more popular success by altering its program content. Before that, he had worked for Xerox. He said that “I had a great reason for going to Xerox. I was tired of being poor.”
Donald B. Poynter: He invented liquor-flavored toothpastes, making it possible to brush your teeth with whiskey, bourbon, rye or scotch tastes. He also enriched the novelty business with talking toilet seats, a hot water bottle shaped like Jayne Mansfield, a mini electric chair that administered a shock to anyone who picked it up, and the Little Black Box, which, when you turned it on, saw a hand emerge to turn it back off. His son Tim said that “every day to my dad was April Fools’ Day.”
Peter Buck: He built up the Subway sandwich franchises, which now sell in 40,000 locations worldwide, after investing in a Connecticut sandwich shop. It took 15 years for the venture to turn a profit. He drove a 17-year-old car and ate at least 5 Subway sandwiches a week. Asked whether he was a billionaire, he replied, “Yeah, I guess so.” (His net worth was $1.7 billion.) Even so, he said, “I can go any place in Danbury and nobody recognizes me.”

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, February 6, 2022

2021 deaths of those prominent in politics and public service:

Deborah Rhode: Stanford law professor and author of more than 30 books, including The Trouble With Lawyers (2015). Many of her books were about how people with low or moderate incomes need better services than the legal profession now provides. For poor defendants, she once wrote, “Death sentences have been upheld even when lawyers lacked any prior experience or were drunk, asleep, on drugs or parking their car during key parts of the prosecution case. In many jurisdictions, it is safer to be rich and guilty than poor and innocent; the worse sentences go to those with the worst lawyers, not the worst crimes.”
George Schultz: Highly respected Secretary of State during Ronald Reagan’s presidency, he was a key part of winning the Cold War.
Rush Limbaugh: For 30 years, he was America’s most popular radio personality, emphasizing conservative values and America’s strengths. This, and the humor he deployed so skillfully, did not endear him to his ideological opponents.
Frank Shankwitz: Coming from a difficult home background (“ … we lived in the back of our car, we lived in tents, we lived in flop houses”), he worked, joined the Air Force and later the Arizona Patrol and met Chris Greicius, age 7, who had terminal leukemia and was a fan of the TV series “Chips” (about California’s motorcycle highway patrolmen). Shankwitz got the boy a uniform and a badge and a seat on a motorcycle. After Chris died, he and Chris’s mother, Linda Pauling, and several others started the Make-A-Wish Foundation, which has fulfilled the dreams of more than 500,000 critically ill children.
Vernon Jordan: A widely respected leader of the civil rights movement, described by one of his obituary writers as a “pragmatic liberal,” he was willing to talk with adherents of any political persuasion, often inviting them to his home for barbecue gatherings. He became the Wall Street Journal’s editorial page editor and served on the board of Dow Jones, which owns the paper.
Prince Philip: The Duke of Edinburgh and Queen Elizabeth II’s husband. At the height of the Cold War, when the subject of a possible visit to Russia came up, he said, “I would very much like to go to Russia, although the bastards murdered half my family.”
Ray Donovan: A New Jersey construction executive who became Ronald Reagan’s Secretary of Labor. After being exonerated on a false charge of criminality, he asked, “What office do I go to to get my reputation back?”
Colin Powell: After serving in the ROTC at New York’s City College, he joined the Army and rose to become chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and George W. Bush’s Secretary of State. His hobby was restoring Volvos. He bought the first one so his college-bound son would have a car, then restored, altogether, 30 of them.
Bob Dole: Longtime Senator from Kansas and Republican nominee for President in 1996. He was so gravely wounded in World War II that he was left for dead. After, he had the use of only one of his arms. His protégé, former Secretary of State Mike Pompeo, recalled that to the end of his long life, he adored veterans, who would grab his left hand and thank him for his service. He would tell them, “I’ve still got more service to give, and so do you.”

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, January 30, 2022

Prominent entertainers who died in 2021:

Larry King: King, who took his show business name from an ad of a Miami Beach store (“King’s Wholesale Liquor”), interviewed 30,000 people, many of them celebrities and
politicians. Obituary writer Lukas J. Alperrt described him as follows: “Known for his rolled-up shirt sleeves, suspenders and pompadour hairstyle, Mr. King had a gravelly baritone that gave off an authoritative, no-nonsense air. But his reputation for gentle questioning made his show, ‘Larry King Live,’ the go-to destination for anyone embroiled in controversy.” He was married eight times.
Cloris Leachman: She had numerous TV and film roles as a comic actress, my own favorite being her one as “Frau Blücker” in Mel Brooks’s Frankenstein (1974), where the mere mention of her name caused any nearby horse to raise up in terror. She also offered “Dr. Frankenstein” (Gene Wilder) refreshments three times, including “Some Ovaltine?”
Hal Holbrook: His one-man portrayal of Mark Twain was a three-time Broadway success. He also played “Deep Throat” in the film All the President’s Men and Commander Joseph Richefort, the naval intelligence officer who construed Japan’s plans to attack Midway, in the film Midway.
Jackie Mason: Formerly a rabbi like three of his brothers, he became a greatly popular comedian.
Jay Black: The star singer for “Jay and the Americans.” His soaring voice made for such hits as “Cara Mia,” “This Magic Moment,” “Come a Little Bit Closer” and my own favorite, “Granada.” He was recruited to replace the original “Jay” while working at a Thom McAnn’s shoe store in New York. His given name, David Blatt, was changed to Black by mistake. “I was on the Mike Douglas show. One day Mike asked me what my last name was and I mumbled Blatt. He said, ‘Black?’ I said yes, a little lie. But everyone loved the name. Mike
Douglas died without knowing he named me.” Jay was a friend of John Gotti and sang at the weddings of two of his children.
Stephen Sondheim: A Broadway immortal, he wrote for West Side Story, Sweeney Todd, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, and A Little Night Music – sometimes just lyrics, at others, both lyrics and music.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, January 23, 2022

Sports Figures Who Died in 2021:

Floyd Little: From a line of great Syracuse University running backs (following Ernie Davis and the greatest of all runners, Jim Brown), Little starred for the Denver Broncos. NFL commissioner Roger Goodell called him “not only a Hall of Fame running back, [but] a Hall of Fame person. Faith, family and football were the pillars of his life.”
Henry “Hank” Aaron: Best known for breaking Babe Ruth’s career homerun record, he went on to become an eloquent spokesman for civil rights. Cardinals’ pitcher Curt Simmons said that “trying to throw a baseball by Hank Aaron is like trying to sneak the sunrise past a rooster.” Aaron admitted that he wasn’t a very good golfer: “It took me seventeen years to get three thousand hits in baseball. I did it in one afternoon on the golf course.”
Tommy Lasorda: A player, manager and spokesman for 70 years as a Dodger, he once praised double-headers, saying “that way I get to keep my uniform on longer.” When Padres’ Kurt Bevacqua accused him of trying to bean him, Lasorda responded that he wasn’t worth beaning, because “he couldn’t hit water if he fell out of a … boat.”
Lubomir Kavalek: A chess champ who led Czechoslovakia after the Soviets crushed its bid for freedom, he won the U.S. championship three times and wrote a chess column for the Washington Post for 29 years.
Harthorne Wingo: A reserve forward for the New York Knicks, including on their 1973 championship team that had six Hall of Famers, he was best known for his remark when the team’s fortunes faded, “Ship be sinkin’.”
Elgin Baylor: An all-time great for the NBA’s Lakers and member of the league’s all-star team for its first 50 years, his scoring moves seemed to defy the laws of gravity.
Bobby Brown: A Yankee star who went on to become a cardiologist and American League president. When he was engaged, his fiancé asked him what she should tell her parents. He said, “Tell your mother that I’m going to medical school and your father that I play third base for the Yankees.”
Bobby Bowden: One of the most successful college football coaches ever, he won two national championships and, for 14 straight years had top-5 teams. When he retired from Florida State, he dryly remarked that “after you retire, there’s only one big event left.”
John Madden: At age 32, he became head coach of the Oakland Raiders for ten years, winning a Super Bowl and achieving the league’s all-time winning percentage. Later, he became a tremendously popular broadcaster for all three major networks.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, January 16, 2022

Some significant people died in 2021:

Of religious interest:
Hans Küng: The Catholic world’s most prominent dissident theologian, who was also, somewhat surprisingly, close to Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI, despite their many disagreements.
Fr. Joseph Koterski, SJ: A philosophy teacher and writer who died while preaching a retreat. Known for his zeal for discipleship and his love for the Western tradition’s Great Books, he served as a chaplain to the Missionaries of Charity and to the Sisters of Life, and used to be a pretty good boxer.
Anglican Archbishop Desmond Tutu: With Nelson Mandela (a prisoner for almost 30 years), he was a key figure in ridding South Africa of its segregationist apartheid ways. When a woman referred to him as Archbishop Mandela during a visit to California, he showed his typical good humor by replying to her, “So, you are getting two for the price of one!” He once plunged into an angry mob that was about to set fire to an accused snitch, saving his life.

Lawrence Ferlinghetti: Poet, publisher and owner of San Francisco’s famous City Lights Bookstore. In his novel Little Boy, published when he was nearly 100, he asked, “Am I the consciousness of a generation or just some old fool sounding off and trying to escape the dominant materialist avaricious consciousness of America?”
Anne Rice: Her books, mostly on vampires, sold more than 150 million copies. A onetime convert to Catholicism, she soon left the Faith.
Jonathan Spence: A Yale scholar who specialized in books about Chinese history, which included his superb work The Memory Palace of Matteo Ricci, on the early Jesuit who sought to win over China’s influential mandarins by bringing them the fruits of Western science and learning.

-Msgr. David Hubba

NOTE: In last week’s “From the Pastor’s Desk,” it was mentioned that India’s government, led by the Hindu-dominated party of Prime Minister Narendra Modi, barred a charity founded by Mother Teresa from accepting foreign donations for its charitable work. It has since been announced that approval for the missionary group to receive foreign funding has been restored. India’s Ministry of Home Affairs did not say what prompted the reversal.

From the Pastor’s Desk, January 9, 2022

Among 2021 happenings were these:

• San Francisco’s Board of Education voted 6-1 to rename 44 schools because they accused the people they were named for as being linked to slavery, oppression or racism. Included were George Washington, Abraham Lincoln and Senator Diane Feinstein (a decidedly liberal politician).

• There were a number of kidnappings in Nigeria, including one of 27 students, 3 staff and 12 family members in the state of Niger (one of whom was killed), and another in which 317 girls were taken from a boarding school in Zamfara State. Past abductions had been the work of jihadists, but now unrelated groups pursue this sordid business for profit. A local newspaper commented that “kidnapping for ransom is now the most thriving industry in Nigeria.” Haiti has experienced similar outrages. 17 Amish and Mennonite missionaries were held for ransom there by one of the some 200 criminal gangs that control more than half the nation’s territory.

• U.S. resident Paul Rusesabagina was one of 21 people put on trial in Uganda on politically motivated charges of rebellion and terrorism. He was portrayed in the film “Hotel Rwanda” for heroically sheltering and saving 1,268 Tutsis, for which he received a Presidential Medal of Freedom.

• In Kabul, 53 school girls were killed in a terrorist bombing.

• More than 750 Ethiopian Christian worshipers were taken outside of the Oriental Orthodox Church of Our Lady Mary of Zion and shot to death.

• Among episodes of violence in the U.S. were the killing of the 10 residents of Boulder, Colorado, by a recent resident from Syria and the killing of 5 and the injuring of 48 by a driver who crashed his SUV into a Christmas parade in Waukesha, Wisconsin. In San Francisco, coordinated looters ransacked several luxury stores and stole large quantities of expensive merchandise. The incidents sparked similar thefts in other cities.

• In several incidents, migrants near our southern borders died at the hands of “coyotes” who were illegally transporting them for fees up to $10,000. 13 died when a Ford Expedition, stuffed with 25 people crossed in front of a tractor trailer in California. 10 died when a van holding 29 people lost control in Texas. In another incident, 55 migrants were killed and 104 injured when a trailer truck carrying more than 160 crashed in Chiapas State, Mexico.

• 14 of 15 occupants of an Italian cable car died when it fell in the Alpine region of Lake Maggiore. A 5-year old boy survived.

• 21 long distance runners died at a sporting competition in China when they were caught in a high-altitude storm.

• 5 Australian children died and 4 were critically injured when a sudden gust of wind lifted a Councy-Ride more than 3 stories into the air.

• Mayor Jim Plunkett of Fitsgerald, Georgia, was defeated in his re-election bid, receiving just 5% of the votes. He lost favor with the voters when his expensive plan to erect a giant topiary chicken (with an apartment for rent, sort of like New Jersey’s Lucy the Elephant) failed to be completed. The mayor thought it would lure tourists to the small town. After the votes were tallied, the mayor remarked that “the chicken is obviously polarizing.”

• Another Georgia story related the doings of its innovative minor league baseball team, the Savannah Bananas. At its games, if fans catch a foul fly ball, it’s an out. Also, batters are forbidden to step out of the batter’s box (to help keep games from exceeding 2 hours). And if you guessed that the team’s uniforms are bright yellow, you are right.

• In an act of monumental national ingratitude, India’s government, led by the Hindu-dominated party of Prime Minister Narendra Modi, barred a charity founded by Mother Teresa from accepting foreign donations for its charitable work.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, January 2, 2022

Ravenna, on Italy’s east coast, was ideally situated to interact with Byzantium, the capital of the Roman Empire’s eastern rule. That connection gave rise to the Byzantine art that notably beautifies the city’s churches. Sometime in the 500s a mosaic in one of those churches mentioned Balthassar, Melchior and Gaspar, names that have become traditionally attached to the mysterious travelers we now call the Magi or the Wise Men or the Three Kings. (Since then, Balthassar has lost an “s” and Gaspar has turned into Caspar.) Even before the Ravenna mosaic, there was an Egyptian reference to the three mysterious journeyers, with a different name assigned to Balthasar.

We really know very little about the magi, whose appearance in Matthew’s gospel has left the door wide open to many speculations. We can’t even be sure that there were three of them. That number has been assumed because of the three gifts they presented to the infant Jesus. Some biblical commentators have even speculated that the magi would have struck the Jews as unsavory characters associated with fraudulent and superstitious practices forbidden by the first commandment, or even as allies of demonic forces.

And yet, the 60th chapter of the book of the prophet of Isaiah mentions a future time when the wealth of the nations, including gold and frankincense, would be brought to Israel. Psalm 72 is also worth paying attention to. Speaking of the Messiah, it says that:
“The Kings of Tarshish and the Isles shall offer gifts;
the kings of Arabia and Seba shall bring tribute.
All kings shall pay him homage,
all nations shall serve him.”

The account of the Magi’s visit is usually interpreted as an indication that Jesus would have a universal impact. This view is reinforced by the conclusion of Matthew’s gospel, where Jesus, as he departs from his apostles, tells them to “Go … and make disciples of all nations … .”

For this article I relied on Michael Patrick Barbers’ “The True Meaning of Christmas” (Ignatius Press). I’m not smart enough to come up with all its insights, but, I like to think, smart enough to know good material when I see it.

– Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, December 26, 2021

The Little Sisters of the Poor, who run assisted living and nursing homes with the kind of superior care that is possible only because of the divine love that underlies their very existence, have a splendid monthly magazine called Serenity, which is available for just $5 a year. (Anyone who requests it should really offer more for it, postage expenses being what they have become.) In one of its recent issues, three of the sisters reflect on key values their members rely on. Sister Mary Alexandra, who works at their home for the elderly in Enfield, Connecticut, told of its statue of the Holy Family, which depicts the boy Jesus standing between Mary and Joseph with his arms lifted up toward them:
“… because of the way Jesus is placed in between his parents, it looks as though he is actually pointing to them rather than to the congregation! It’s like he is saying to us, “Look at them: the perfect Christian man and the perfect Christian woman. The quintessential saints of the Church. Study them, learn from them, follow their example. My Father has given them to you, to the Church, to guide you as your spiritual parents in your journey to holiness.”

Elsewhere in the issue, an unnamed sister comments on a painting by the British artist John Everett Millais. It includes Jesus’ grandmother, St. Anne, who stands behind Joseph’s work bench tending to a nail that has injured the young boy, whose hand is bleeding, as it will one day at Calvary. The painting is a reminder of the important role grandparents so often play in our families. Sometimes they are delightful visitors, sometimes they help provide daily care, and sometimes they even assume the parental role when needs or troubles require their loving help. The sister who called attention to Millais’s painting also wrote of how Pope Francis has reminded us of the ways grandparents help our grandparents help our families:
“How important grandparents are for family life, for passing on the human and religious heritage which is so essential for each and every society! How important it is to have intergenerational exchanges and dialogue, especially within the context of the family. … Children and elderly build the future of peoples: children because they lead history forward, the elderly because they transmit the experience and wisdom of their lives. This relationship and this dialogue between generations is a treasure to be preserved and strengthened.”

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, December 19, 2021

Christmas comes to us this Saturday as a welcome assertion of joy and hope in what has been a dreadfully trying year. Christmas has been surrounded with delightful human customs that we have come to value greatly. On a lower level are the cheerful decorations that contrast so vividly with the darkness that has been accumulating in recent weeks. Who doesn’t enjoy their creative splendor?

Then there are the feelings of closeness to family and friends, and even to people we don’t usually deal with. In his enjoyably instructive book “True Meaning of Christmas: The Birth of Jesus and the Origins of the Season” (Ignatius Press), Michael Patrick Barber notes that in Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol”, Scrooge’s nephew identifies these Christmas pleasures articulately when he tells his uncle that Christmas is: “… 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 passengers to the grave.”

And it is surely true that the season can awaken our finest impulses. But towering over these pleasing benefits is one stupendous reality: that the Son of God, the light of the world as he once described himself, has come into our lives to completely transform them for the better. From the time of the unforgettable event in ancient Bethlehem, God has invited us to be with him forever. The Church Father St. Ambrose, addressing Jesus Christ, expressed this immense blessing beautifully when he wrote:
“Now your candle shines bright and night itself gives forth uncommon light. May no night ever interrupt it, and may it shine with perpetual faith.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, December 12, 2021

Mary, under her title of Our Lady of Guadalupe, is the patron saint for all the Americas. The magnificent basilica in Mexico City that honors her under this name stands near the place where St. Juan Diego received the garment that, enchantingly, was blessed with the famous image of Mary that is revered to this day. The feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, normally celebrated on December 12, is not observed this year because it conflicts with an Advent Sunday. In a way, this in itself pays tribute to the humility that so characterized Mary. St. Therese of Lisieux once paid tribute to this humility and to how it leads the humble people of this world to trust in her love with these simple and profound words:
“I know that at Nazareth, Virgin full of grace, you lived very poorly without asking for anything more. Neither ecstasies, nor miracles, nor other extraordinary deeds enhanced your life, O Queen of the elect, the number of the lowly, the “little ones,” is very great on earth. They can raise their eyes to you without fear. You are the incomparable Mother who walks with them along the common way to guide them to heaven.”

In his Confessions, St. Augustine movingly admitted his complete dependence on God’s mercy:
“Rightly … have I firm hope that you will heal my infirmities through him who sits at your right hand and intercedes for us. Otherwise I should despair. For great and numerous are
these infirmities of mine, great indeed and numerous, but your medicine is mightier.”

Our Father John, at a recent meeting of the priests of our deanery, proposed that local parishes should host Advent Penance services where people could choose to make their confessions to their “hometown” priests or to priests who serve in other parishes. Our turn to be the host parish will on Monday evening, December 20, at 7pm.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, December 5, 2021

The annual Bergen Catholic High School Holiday Chorale will again take place at Saint Joseph Church on Monday, December 13 at 7:30 pm. ALL ARE WELCOME.

Wednesday is the solemnity of Our Lady’s Immaculate Conception, a holy day of obligation and the feast day of our national patron saint. The Basilica of the Immaculate Conception in Washington, D.C., a church of splendid beauty and one of the largest churches in the world, is a magnificent tribute to Mary under this title. (If you have never visited it, you might consider entering it onto your list of special places you would like to see. Located on the campus of Catholic University, it is readily accessible by the District of Columbia’s Metro rapid transit system or by and it has free parking. Some Catholics misconstrue the meaning of the Immaculate Conception, thinking that it refers to Mary’s giving birth to Jesus. (We celebrate Christmas in recognition of that infinite blessing.) The doctrine of the Immaculate Conception asserts that, from the very first moment Mary existed, she was free from Original Sin (the inheritance of our human condition) and Actual Sins (those of our personal responsibility). This great favor was given to her by God’s special grace because of the unique task entrusted to her of being the mother of our Savior. St. John Henry Newman wrote a beautiful reflection on Our Lady that is very much suited to her
title of the Immaculate Conception:
“Mary is the house and the palace of the Great King, of God himself. Our Lord, the co-equal Son of God, once dwelt in her. He was her guest; nay more than a guest, for a guest comes into a house as well as leaves it. But our Lord was actually born in this holy house. He took his flesh and blood from this house, from the flesh, from the veins of Mary. Rightly then she was made to be of pure gold, because she was to give of that gold to form the body of the Son of God. She was golden in her conception, golden in her birth. She went through the fire of suffering like gold in the furnace, and when she ascended on high, she was, in the words of our hymn, “Above all angels in glory untold, Standing next to the King in a vesture of gold.”

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, November 28, 2021

In exploring my files for this article, I read a piece by John Norton from the Catholic weekly newspaper Our Sunday Visitor. It mentioned a heroic priest from the World War II era.

Jesuit Father Alfred Delp was one of several thousand Germans arrested by Nazi authorities after the failed 1944 attempt to do away with Hitler. Even though he had no involvement in the plot, he had been part of a resistance cell, and paid for it with his life in February of 1945 after being charged with having a “defeatist” attitude. He spent his last Advent chained in prison. While there, even though his hands were manacled, he wrote his Prison Meditations, in which he remarked that “There is perhaps nothing we modern people need more than to be genuinely shaken up,” reminding us that we are not the center of our lives but that God is.

Father Delp’s reflections reminded Mr. Norton of some thoughts of Pope Benedict XVI from ten years ago, that
Advent is a time when we ought to be shaken and brought to a realization of ourselves.… Being shattered, being awakened only with these is life made capable of Advent. … [I]n the wretchedness of realizing our limitations, the golden threads that pass between heaven and earth in these times reach us. These golden threads give the world a taste of the abundance it can have. … Advent comes every year to remind us … that our lives might find their just orientation towards the face of God. The face not of a “master,” but of a father and a friend.

In Advent we prepare for Christmas, including by repenting our sins. We likewise look forward with strong hope to the time when Our Lord will come to us again, putting God’s final touch to human history in the general judgment. But, of course, every day offers us a decisively beautiful chance to encounter God and his gifts.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, November 21, 2021

In his recent book Letters to America, the great country music legend Willie Nelson recalled that he and his sister Bobbie were raised by their grandparents. “After my granddaddy died, things were even tougher. For Thanksgiving dinner one year, we split a can of soup.” As we look forward to our nation’s treasured Thanksgiving holiday this Thursday, I don’t suppose any of us are facing a comparable hardship, unless we have recently suffered the loss of a loved one. But whether the day promises us much-anticipated joys of delicious food and welcome camaraderie, or even if it contains the re-emergence of some predictable relational tensions, it reminds us that, if we compare our blessings and our hardships accurately, we will find many reasons to be grateful. Charles Dickens had it right when he urged us to:
“Reflect on your present blessings of which every man has many, not on your past misfortunes, of which all men have some.”

Our Thanksgiving Day Mass, the only one for the day, will be at 8:30 am in the main church. I hope you will be able to join us as we take part in the Eucharist, the unsurpassable way to thank God for all he has done for us. It is also very uplifting to see how many of you contribute to our Thanksgiving food drive for the needy, which concludes this Sunday afternoon. Items should be dropped off at the rectory garage throughout the day’s Mass schedule.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, November 14, 2021

It would be hard to come up with a better analog for the spiritual life than a pilgrimage. After all, we’re on the way somewhere in our lives and aren’t just staying put.

Soon after Our Lord’s earthly life, Christian pilgrims began making their way to the places where he set foot, taught and worked, especially to Jerusalem, where he died for us and rose from the dead. Much later, Christian pilgrims journeyed to such revered destinations as Canterbury, where St. Thomas Becket was martyred at the altar of his cathedral, and Compostela, where the tomb of St. James was venerated by pilgrims who made the arduous walk along the famous camino trail.

Pilgrimages and other travels of spiritual significance also preceded Christian times.
Psalm 107 speaks of journeys of futility:
Some wandered in the desert, in the wilderness,
finding no way to a city they could dwell in.
Hungry they were and thirsty;
their soul was fainting within them.
They cried to the Lord in their need
and he rescued them from their distress
and he led them along the right way,
to reach a city they could dwell in.

St. John Vianney, known as the Curë (parish priest) of Ars, led a life of amazing austerity. He worked tirelessly among his people and the many pilgrims who came, often for 15 or 16 hours a day, to make their confession to him. He was certainly no adherent to a non-carbohydrate diet, since for years his typical meal consisted of a potato or two and a cup of milk, a strong irony since he lived near Brillat-Savarin, the most eminent expert on food in France’s history.

In addition to his other priestly duties, St. John gave regular catechetical talks to children and adults. Many of these talks, presented in simple and direct language, have survived. In one of them, the Curë spoke of how prayer strengthened him on a long journey he once had to make:
Prayer … makes time pass very quickly and with such great delight that one does not notice its length. Listen: Once when I was a purveyor in Bresse and most of my companions were ill, I had to make a long journey. I prayed to the good God, and, believe me, the time did not seem long.

Prayer sustained the Curë, and it can do the same for us, including in the most difficult of our trials. For St. John, prayer was no grim obligation, but a joyous delight. As he once said:
Prayer is nothing else but union with God. … In this intimate union, God and the soul are fused together like two bits of wax that no one can ever pull apart. The union of God with a tiny creature is a lovely thing. It is a happiness beyond understanding.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, November 7, 2021

Twenty-one years ago the television personality Steve Allen died in a way many of us would gladly sign up for, if we could. He was taking a nap and never woke up.

In an entertainment career of more than fifty years, Allen displayed astonishingly diverse talents. He was a skilled pianist, although he couldn’t read music, and the composer of over 5,000 songs, including the durable standard “This Could Be the Start of Something Big.” He also played the title role in the film The Benny Goodman Story. But he won fame on TV.

Allen was the original star on “The Tonight Show,” preceding Jack Paar and Johnny Carson. Besides the studio comedy and interviews that have remained staples of the late night shows, Steve and his crew of comedians carried out zany stunts, such as taking to New York’s streets for go-cart races, or to pose as customs inspectors. (“Excuse me, sir, are you hiding any contraband fruit or nuts?”) Once Allen tied 500 teabags to himself and jumped into a vat of water to make iced tea, an idea David Letterman later copied.

His quick wit was always ready for some fun, especially in the spontaneous interviews he conducted like no one else. (“And what’s your line of work?” “I’m in the steel business.” “I suppose we all do a little of that every now and then.” Or my own favorite: When he once offered to come up with punning questions to answers that studio guests provided, someone challenged him to come up with one for our local highway 9W, to which Steve reacted by pretending to ask the famous composer: “Herr Wagner, do you spell you name with a V?” The reply was: “Nein-W!)

Allen also had a serious side. After earning a Ph.D., he wrote a number of books and often took part in political discourse, championing social justice causes and generally defending liberal views. Allen was a frequent guest in the early days of William F. Buckley Jr.’s “Firing Line,” contesting Buckley’s stances. In the 1970s, Allen tried a creative approach to panel-discussion TV by hosting imaginary exchanges among famous thinkers. (You might get Aristotle, Thomas Aquinas, Galileo and Emily Dickinson sharing their ideas.)

In his final years, Allen led efforts to combat the increase of smutty material on television, a trend he saw as degrading TV and us. He ran ads for organizations he was strongly involved with, the Parents Television Council and the Council for Media Integrity. In his last days, he was writing a book on declining TV standards that he entitled Vulgarians at the Gate. His thoughts on the subject are still worth attending to at a time when changes are needed in the medium to which he brought such class and through which he gave viewers so much joy and light.

-Msgr. David Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, October 31, 2021

This week has two of the Church’s most important days of worship.  Monday is All Saints Day (not a holy day of obligation this year), when we recall the famous and ordinary people who have reached the life of Heaven.  Tuesday is All Souls Day, when we pray for all the dead, especially those completing their readiness for Heaven in Purgatory.

One saint of great importance who is not widely known today is St. Anselm (c. 1033-1109), a Doctor (or key teacher) of the Church, whose life was too complicated to describe in a few paragraphs.  A native of the border region of today’s Italy and France, he became an exemplary Benedictine monk who relished his monastic life but was called on to serve the Church as Archbishop of Canterbury, England’s chief diocese, at a time when the usual heavy demands of that office were entangled with the difficult political realities of dealing with kings and the pressures their expectations of loyalty often imposed.  Pressed between this and a need to pursue reforms in the Church, Anselm once said, “I saw in England many evils whose correction belonged to me and which I could neither remedy nor, without personal guilt, allow to exist.”  In addition to this dilemma, he was twice forced into exile. Anselm is probably best known now for his contributions to philosophy.  His briefly-stated attempt to prove God’s existence argues that since God is “that than which nothing greater can be conceived,” he must have existence since, without it, we could conceive a superior entity.  We can chew on that for quite a while, as philosophers have for centuries, whether praising or disputing its validity. Anselm’s spiritual guidance is far easier to comprehend.  I’ve always valued these words he once wrote as a fine way to begin a session of prayer:

Come now, little man, put aside your business for a while, take refuge for a little from your tumultuous thoughts; cast off your cares, and let your burdensome distractions wait.  Take some leisure for God; rest awhile in him …, put out everything except God and whatever helps you to seek him. … Say now to God with all your heart, “I seek your face, O Lord, your face do I seek.”

James Monti, who writes about the history of the liturgy, translated a medieval hymn for the excellent prayer periodical Magnificat.  It offers consolation to anyone who has seen a loved one die, especially in its lines:

In a verdant place, O Lord, set them there; On the water of refreshment, lead forth their souls to life.

At our customary All Souls Day Mass (Tuesday evening at 7:30) we will read out the names of those who have had funerals at Saint Joseph this past year.  If you will be attending this Mass and have experienced a recent loss of someone whose funeral took place elsewhere, you are welcome to submit his or her name so it can be added to the list. We can all take heart from Bach’s cantata “Gladly I Bear the Cross” as we ponder the inevitability of death.  It says, at one point:

My journey through life is like a voyage at sea,
affliction, trouble and distress engulf me like waves and daily threaten me with death;
but my true anchor is God’s mercy, which often gladdens my heart.
He tells me that he will never forsake or neglect me.
And when the angry tempest is over, I shall step from the ship into my own city, the heavenly kingdom, to which I shall attain with the blessed, freed from cares

-Msgr. Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, October 24, 2021

Wednesday is the anniversary of the Battle of the Milvian Bridge, which took place near Rome on October 27, 312 A.D. It is one of history’s most consequential events.

Until it took place, Christians had a precarious existence in the Roman Empire. Not long before it, there were terrible sporadic persecutions of believers. But in the early 4th c, there were four contenders for the imperial throne, and in 312 the two strongest, Maxentius and Constantine (who improbably were brothers-in-law), were about to go to war for western dominance. The day before the battle, Constantine had a vision of a flaming cross suspended in the sky, accompanied by the saying “By this sign you will conquer.” Constantine ordered the image to be incorporated into his banner and the helmets and shields of his soldiers. After his victory, he and Licinius, the regional ruler of the eastern empire, agreed to issue the Edict of Milan, which granted toleration to Christians. Twelve years later, Constantine overcame Licinius and became the sole ruler of the Roman Empire.

Constantine made Christianity a virtual state religion, curbing pagan practices with mild measures, abolishing crucifixion because of its connection with the death of Jesus, and even writing a prayer his soldiers were expected to recite. Oddly, Constantine was baptized only shortly before he died, a practice sometimes adopted by those who wanted to enter the next life unsullied by sins.

There is a statue of “Saint” Constantine in our cathedral. Wanting to verify this, I called our Archdiocese’s most knowledgeable researcher on the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, Father Michael Gubernat. He assured me that there was such a statue: a wooden one embedded in the screening that separates the sanctuary from its surrounding ambulatory, near the Archbishop’s chair. Although Constantine was apparently never canonized by the Catholic Church, he is regarded as a saint by several of the Orthodox Churches, so his title is not completely indefensible.

On the opposite side of the sanctuary there is a statue of Constantine’s mother, St. Helena, who is most notably honored for her discovery of the Lord’s true cross in Jerusalem. The great novelist Evelyn Waugh, arguably the finest English stylist of modern times, wrote a slim novel about her called Helena, which he regarded as his favorite work. It offers a thoroughly enjoyable reading experience to anyone who takes advantage of its riches.

-Msgr. Hubba

From the Pastor’s Desk, October 17, 2021

On the third day of the Civil War’s Battle of Gettysburg, the decisive occurrence was Pickett’s Charge, a Confederate assault on a strong Union position that was Robert Lee’s greatest failure and won the battle for the North. The prelude to the southern attack was an artillery duel that was not exceeded until the World Wars of the 20th c. When 300 guns exchanged fire for half an hour, the historian James M. McPherson wrote, their sounds could be heard in Pittsburgh. This reminds me of how the mantra “Follow the science” has so often been heard during these months of the Covid-19 pandemic from public health officials, political leaders and opinion voices of the media.

Since October has been a month that includes a strong Right to Life message from our Church, I think about why this advice has not been applied to the destruction of growing, even viable children, who have been aborted in astounding numbers since the Roe v. Wade decision of 1973 and its expansive implications ever since. The original ruling addressed the fate of unborn babies in the first trimester of pregnancy, but has somehow came to be extended to babies able to live independently and even ones who are alive after the abortion procedure has been carried out. Furthermore, the Hyde Amendment, which for years kept abortions from being paid for by taxpayers, has recently been disavowed. So, what does “the science” have to say about the inception and growth of human life? That has long been clear. From the time when the human egg and sperm unite, a new life is formed. A few years ago an outstanding 3-volume reference work appeared: Encyclopedia of Catholic Social Thought, Social Science, and Social Policy. It would be ideal if every parish and public library had a set. I excavated six of its articles for this piece.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church, with its usual apt summary of our beliefs, states that
“Human life must be respected and protected absolutely from the moment of conception. From the first moment of his existence, a human being must be recognized as having the rights of a person among which is the inviolable right of every innocent being to life.”
This is so because every zygote (the fused union of parents’ genetic contribution to life) is a unique individual reality which, if not interfered with, results in the birth of a new child. This is settled, inarguable science, not uncertain or debatable assertion. The strongest and most elegantly expressed Church teaching on the respect for life issues in recent times was Pope St. John Paul II’s 1995 encyclical Evangelium Vitae (The Gospel of Life). It speaks of the “marvelous process of the unfolding of life,” reminding us that “right from fertilization the adventure of human life begins,” which is “a most beautiful thing, … an event worthy of being exalted in joy and glory.” The encyclical is a powerful affirmation of “the incomparable and inviolable worth of every human life,” something we must never forget to acknowledge and to respect in our living. As John Paul wrote: …in every child which is born and in every person who lives and dies we see the image of God’s glory.

-Msgr. Hubba