Dear Anne, Glad to hear that the band is doing well.  Must be exciting to travel from town to town and play to live audiences instead of to the rakes hanging in the garage.  I hope things continue to go well. You always did love music.  You used to spend hours banging away at the piano (although you wailed and cried severely when your mother tried to get you to take lessons)…  And then began the first years of your CD collection. Is it still growing? When you graduated from high school you proudly displayed almost 1000 discs to me, and you knew them all by heart.  That’s when I first started to worry. Don’t get me wrong, music is a beautiful thing, a great gift from God, and to appreciate it is to give him glory. Nevertheless, as all good things, it too tends to become an idol in this fallen world.  I had a college friend whose sole pleasure and refuge was his music; everything else took second place. It was almost as if he was addicted to it. He spent all his money buying discs, and then when he had to pay a phone bill or an electric bill he would sell back some of them to a used music dealer.  Anyway, I am not saying that your love for music is excessive. But if you ever notice yourself using your music as a way of escaping from the challenges and duties of life, consider it a warning sign; God’s gifts are meant to enhance us, not cripple us. Which reminds me of an anecdote about one of today’s saints. These two monks fathered monasticism in recently evangelized Russia.  Anthony had traveled to the famous Greek monastery on Mt Athos to learn how to be a monk, and had then returned to begin a monastic life in his native Kiev (in modern-day Ukraine), in a small cave near the river Dnieper.  Soon he attracted a following and the community grew rapidly. One of his early disciples would later become the great organizer and codifier of the monastery; his name was Theodosius. Anthony preferred solitude, silence, and rigorous austerity; Theodosius preferred deep contemplation coupled with enthusiastic, active works of charity.  He used to care for the sick and dying monks in the morning – washing them and feeding them, cleaning their linens and tending to their needs – and then eat supper with the Russian nobles, exhorting them to rule as Christ would in their place. On one of his trips to the palace, dinner was followed by a beautiful musical performance by the King’s minstrels.  The saint enjoyed it immensely, just as everyone else did, but then he absentmindedly posed the King a question that silenced the worldly gathering: “Sir, will it sound the same in the life to come?” And that’s the question you should keep in mind.  Who knows if your musical career will take off, but whether it does or not, the most important thing remains your relationship with God, and putting all your talents at the service of his Kingdom.  So while you are enjoying the warmth of the spotlight and reverberations of your dulcet voice in the amplifier, be praising the Lord in your heart, be singing for him. Melodiously yours, Uncle Eddy

Dear Nick, If you ever send me another note so full of thoughtless personal criticisms (of anyone at all, let alone priests and bishops!), I will personally provide my captors with all the contact information they need to apprehend you and send you to a fate even worse than my own.  My dear nephew, write these words of our Lord on a note card and carry it wherever you go: “Do not judge others, or you yourselves will be judged. As you have judged, so you will be judged, by the same rule; award shall be made as you have made award, in the same measure. How is it that you can see the speck of dust which is in your brother’s eye, and are not aware of the beam which is in your own?  By what right will you say to your brother, Wait, let me rid your eye of that speck, when there is a beam all the while in your own? You hypocrite, take the beam out of you own eye first, and so you shall have clear sight to rid you brother’s eye of the speck.” (Matthew 7:1-5) If you have nothing good to say about people, don’t say anything – especially when it comes to pastors of the Church. Pray for them, serve them, don’t buy into their falseness if they have any, but certainly don’t spread an evil reputation around them – let God be their judge.  Take a lesson from today’s saints. These 19 priests and religious were rounded up in Holland soon after anti-Spanish (and anti-Catholic) Calvinist forces occupied the city of Gorkum.  For nine days they endured cruel and humiliating treatment as their captors tried to “convince” them to reveal the location of the sacred vessels (chalices, ciboria, and patens used in the Mass).  Then they withstood interrogation for two days, and were offered freedom in exchange for denying the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist, which they refused to do. As complaints were coming in from Gorkum’s magistrates and other nobles, along with appeals from some of the captives’ relatives, the admiral in charge of the Calvinists declared that the prisoners would go free immediately, if only they repudiated the primacy of the Pope, which they again refused to do (Fr Pieck resisted even the impassioned entreaties of his brothers, who heartily urged him to save his skin).  At midnight they were led away to an abandoned monastery. There, in a turf-shed, one by one, they were hanged from the ceiling beams. After the first (Fr Pieck) was pushed from the ladder, as he was dangling, he offered words of encouragement to his brother Catholics. The gruesome sight was too much for some of them, and they abjured their faith. One of those who abjured had been a popular, exemplary priest (you would have had no words of criticism for him), while two of those who stayed unhesitatingly faithful to the Lord had previously been slack and irregular in their vocations, scandalous in fact (you would have railed against them).  It took hours for them to expire, and the executioners began to mutilate some of them even before they had died. May our Lord forgive them. My dear nephew, we cannot see a man’s heart, and only God knows the strength of virtue dwelling therein.  Half the time we can barely see our own heart! So tone down your harsh words, and learn to see everyone as God does: as potential saints.  And may the prayers of today’s martyrs assist you. God bless, Uncle Eddy

Dear Wilma, I just received a frantic note from your mother (my dear, nervous sister), who is afraid that you are playing a dangerous game with your naturally attractive personality and looks by spending so much of your free time at the beach and dressing as if you were in a beer commercial.  Since my sister tends to overreact (she always has had this tendency, which actually saved me from some precarious situations during our childhood exploits), I can’t give full credence to her alarm, but she also tends to sniff danger from far off (which is why she saved me from those precarious situations), so there is probably some truth to what she says.  Confident in your good sense and love for the Savior who gave his life for you, I am certain that a little reminder about God’s point of view will inspire you to make any necessary adjustments to your summer activities. It just so happens that today’s saint provides a perfect platform for such a reminder. Withburga was the youngest of King Anna’s four daughters.  (Yes, “Anna” was actually the King’s name. He ruled the East Angles – in England – for years, and I do believe that they were somewhat confused when it came to handing out names.  Withburga’s sisters had to endure the appellations of Exburga, Ermenilda, and Etheldreda. Perhaps they sound more elegant in their ancient pronunciation.) As you may remember, all four of them became saints – remarkable for their good cheer, gentle charity, extraordinary prayer lives, and robust virtue.  Anna must have been quite proud of them (he probably has one of the largest family estates in heaven). Withburga withdrew to solitude when her sisters traveled to France to follow their religious vocations. Soon she gathered a community of likeminded maidens and founded a church and convent near the sea. She died before it was completed.  Three hundred and fifty-three years later the bodies of all four sisters were removed from their separate graves and buried together near the high altar of a new church. The amazing thing is that the bodies of Withburga and Etheldreda were incorrupt, that is, intact (the other two were mere dust and bones). Withburga’s was not only all there, but it was still flexible, as if she had only died the day before. And that’s where the reminder comes in.  St Withburga and her sister are not the only cases of saints’ bodies remaining incorrupt (if they were, it would be reasonable to question the story’s veracity).  I can’t explain the phenomenon completely (though many have tried), but I can see that one lesson is clear: God is interested in what we do with our bodies. Of course, we knew this from the beginning, after all, he is the one who gave us our bodies.  But sometimes we forget that our bodies are the physical revelation of our spirits, that we express who we are by the way we dress, speak, and interact with others (all that happens through the mediation of our bodies). They are not mere objects, ornaments, or tools; they are the visible manifestation of our selves.  And if we are baptized, they are also temples of the Holy Trinity, who dwells within us wherever we are. Therefore, our bodies as well as our souls ought to be treated with the respect and dignity they deserve. So, if you have been falling into immodesty and sensuality, pick yourself up before it’s too late.  Elegance, decorum, and even majesty ought to characterize a beloved bride of the Christ the King. And that excludes all slovenliness, bawdiness, and carelessness in dress, comportment, and speech.  I trust this is a sufficient reminder? In any case, count on my prayers, and St Withburga’s. Your concerned Uncle, Eddy

Dear Patty, So you’re trying to squeeze in more units by taking classes during the summer session, are you?  Knowing your grades from the last two years, I can say with confidence that you have not chosen this uncommon vernal occupation due to previous academic failures.  Therefore, I surmise that you are on your way to a double major, or a Master’s degree in four years, or an early graduation. Whichever it is, your enthusiasm for the life of the mind impresses me – and troubles me.  Nothing has done more damage to individual souls, to the Church herself, and to the world at large than intellectual pride. Of course, a love for learning can be healthy and holy, but an inordinate thirst for academic or intellectual achievement can easily (oh so easily – I have seen it happen before my very eyes!) degenerate into priggish arrogance and an overblown sense of personal greatness.  A lot of knowledge without a lot of moral virtue makes for an enlarged head and a shrunken heart – a body type that doesn’t fit through the pearly gates. My advice to you (besides recommending that you give at least as much attention to your prayer and apostolic life as you do to your intellectual life) is to get plenty of exercise (the best way is to play some sport that you enjoy) and learn from today’s saint. Panteanus received a top-notch education and joined the ranks of the powerful and influential Stoic philosophers.  Then he ran into Christianity. We don’t know exactly how he was converted, but it seems that the doctrine of Christ filled in all the gaps of his philosophical worldview, and he quickly and energetically took over the famous catechetical School of Alexandria, which was to produce a cascade of brilliant scholars, eloquent preachers, and instrumental saints in the early Church.  Some say he went on a missionary visit to India, but all we know for sure is that he was nicknamed the “Sicilian bee,” which betokens both his energetic work ethic and enthusiastic method of teaching, as well as the sweet and satisfying flavor of his doctrine. Soon the catechetical school was held in the highest esteem of all philosophical centers throughout the flourishing Roman Empire. If you can marry your love for learning to an ardent, heartfelt love for the living source of all truth and beauty (that’s God, by the way), I will rest at ease.  If not, I will pray that God rigs it so you fail every course you take from now on – better a bunch of Fs on your report card now than an everlasting F on your Report Card later. Forever your Uncle, Eddy