WEEKLY DIGEST OF rc
DAILY MEDITATIONS

Dear Toni, Don’t waste your commutes.  Think about it. You have to take the train into the city and then back home every weekday for the next two months.  That’s 20 minutes twice a day. That’s 40 minutes every day for 40 days. That’s 1600 minutes. That’s almost 30 hours of free time.  You can either squander it in chitter-chatter, waste it in dozing and daydreaming (getting yourself into trouble with the kind of daydreams you tend to have, no doubt), dissipate it with trivial reading, or invest it in your great adventure of becoming a postmodern saint.  It’s your choice. You are totally free to determine how you will utilize these precious hours. Just keep in mind that you will never get another chance to use them. Once you’re back on campus in August, these hours will never return. Never. I bet you could read through the whole Catechism, or the documents of Vatican II, or the entire Bible during these commutes (get one of those “Daily Bible Reading” Bibles if you like that idea; they give you a variety of readings for each day of the year, breaking it up and keeping you interested).  Or you could become an expert on your favorite saint, or your favorite era of history, or your favorite artist… The possibilities are myriad; you just have to decide to invest this “talent” (these thirty hours) for the good of your soul and all the souls who will someday be entrusted to your care. Today’s saint is an interesting case in this regard.  Anthony was born in Lisbon, Portugal, and entered religious life when he was only 15.  For nine years he prayed and studied and grew in the love of God, especially through spending time with the Holy Scriptures.  Then he met some Franciscans and felt called to join up so he could become a martyr while trying to convert the Muslims in North Africa.  He set sail, but a storm drove them off course and he ended up disembarking on the shores of Italy. Soon he had met St Francis of Assisi and was assigned to a hermitage in northeastern Italy.  One day, during the feast that followed a large ordination ceremony, he was serendipitously invited to give the traditional speech (he hadn’t been scheduled to do so, but miscommunication had produced an embarrassing situation in which neither the Dominicans nor the Franciscans present had prepared the required talk).  His eloquence and learning acquired so humbly during his years back in Portugal and his long commute to Italy, so shocked the assembly that he was immediately sent out to preach among all the towns and cities of northern Italy. His fame erupted overnight, as did a sweeping moral reform and widespread return of heretics.  His holiness was so palpable that often just the sight of him brought sinners to their knees. People used to spend the night inside churches in order to assure a good seat for the morning’s sermon. Once he converted a heretic mule driver when he inspired the mule to genuflect in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament. Soon he added a professorship in theology to his list of responsibilities, and when he died at the young age of 34, he had sufficiently impressed the Pope and the people of Italy with his fervent and contagious love for God and the Holy Scriptures that he was canonized in less than a year. I don’t mean to scare you by saying that you might die young (although you might), but I do mean to remind you that if we spend our time well, we are more likely to successfully fulfill whatever mission God has in store for us.  So, take advantage not only of those commutes but also of all the other moments of your days… You won’t regret using them well (even though it takes self-discipline to do so), but you will regret wasting them. Love, Uncle Eddy

Dear Stella, Now you can see how your patience and virtue have been rewarded!  You built up a true friendship with Bill, based on common values and constructed through engaging in worthwhile activities together.  You delayed the romance until the friendship was strong, and your dating was directed towards courtship, not entertainment, both of you being reasonably certain that marriage was your calling.  And when marriage appeared on the horizon as a possibility in the not-too-distant future, the courtship began.  And now you are engaged!  My prayers are with you… But may I also add a small piece of avuncular advice?  I draw it from the tragic-glorious experience of today’s saint. Godeleva, a noblewomen 18 years of age, married Bertulf, a slightly older Flemish nobleman.  But Bertulf’s mother didn’t like the match.  She despised it, in fact, and convinced her son to abandon the girl even before the wedding feast had finished.  The mother-in-law took it upon herself to persecute the hapless wife. First Godeleva was locked in a little cell.  Then she was fed only scraps of food, all the while being verbally and psychological abused (physically too, off and on).  Finally she managed to escape and return to her father’s house.  Her father threatened to turn Bertulf over to the authorities.  Bertulf’s father and bishop eventually convinced the reluctant husband to take his wife back and treat her properly.  He seemed to repent, and Godeleva gave him another chance. But after a little while he returned to his violent ways.  Eventually, he had her killed.  He left the castle for a trip one night, and two of his lackeys lured Godeleva out of one of the Castle gates, where they fastened a rope around her neck, strangled her, and then threw her into the pond to make it look like a natural death-by-drowning.  Everyone knew she had been murdered, but the dastardly deed couldn’t be proven, so her husband got away scot-free. You can see why Godeleva is the patron saint of difficult marriages and in-law problems.  And that’s what I wanted to mention.  Now that you’re engaged, don’t think all your work is over.  You need to continue to prepare yourselves, not only staying chaste, not only arranging the wedding details, but continuing to get to know each other, asking the tough questions (how are your other friendships, and his, going to fit into your marriage? What about your respective hobbies and interests? Children?…) about all the important issues, one of which is making sure that you will each be able to get along well with each other’s families.  Remember, you don’t live in a fairy tale.  In the real world, love is essential for marriage, but so are common sense, responsibility, and prudence. Your hopeful uncle, Eddy

Dear Jane, Your last note distressed me.  Not because of the degenerate moral climate at your university, which you described so vividly, but because of your reaction to it.  Before you decide to transfer, I would encourage you to reflect deeply and pray a lot (I hope your three summer jobs don’t crowd out time for reflection and prayer).  As you do, consider well our Lord’s precept “It is more blessed to give than to receive.” (Acts 20:35) It has many applications, you know. For instance: you decided to go to college to receive an education, but have you been giving anything back (besides your money, of course)?  You yourself admit that although the moral and ideological atmosphere on campus is positively putrid, extraordinary opportunities and excellent resources abound.  I would argue that God is giving you these opportunities and resources in order to grant your longtime wish to get a top-notch education, but he is hoping that you (with the vibrant faith and solid values that he has given you) will, in turn, spark a moral renaissance among your needy peers; instead of running away by transferring, maybe (I say maybe because I mean maybe) he is asking you to take up arms and reclaim that university for the cause of truth, goodness, and beauty, the tricolor banner of any college worthy of the name.  Think about it. But don’t just think about it.  Look at the examples of those who have gone before you.  Take today’s saint, for example. John of Sahagun was an ignorant young priest who wanted to serve his flock better, so he obtained his bishop’s permission to go and study at one of Europe’s oldest and greatest institutions of learning, the University of Salamanca, founded three hundred years before Columbus even caught sight of our upstart continent.  When he arrived, the entire city, not to mention the university, was crawling with iniquity. Young nobles (of which there was an abundance) routinely bloodied the streets with their inane feuds (Spanish tempers, you know); rich landlords flaunted their wealthy excesses in town while their peasant serfs starved a few miles away; fashionable and knowing women plundered the lustful vigor of students and professors alike (all of whom were male)… In short, it wasn’t much different than today’s university culture.  It would have been easy for St John to stick to his studies, get his degree, and retreat to the quiet and tranquil ministry of St Agatha’s parish back home in Burgos, but God had other plans. Upon completing his degree he had already acquired a reputation for powerful preaching and extremely wise spiritual direction (mostly through confession).  He staid on in the city, and soon entered a community of Augustinian friars there. For the next 24 years, he tirelessly ministered to this university flock, achieving a profound and lasting transformation in Salamancan faith and morals.  His career was cut short only by the ire of unrepentant sinners: after converting two young assassins sent to murder him, and being rescued from stoning at the hands of a band of resentful women, he finally succumbed to poison administered at the behest of a noblewoman whose adulterous affair had ended after her lover went to confession with the saint. During these summer months, therefore, have recourse to prayer and a lot of reading about the saints who have gone before you, to whom you owe your faith; it just might be your turn to take up the cause of Christ and rescue the poor souls drowning in your campus’s moral quagmire. God bless, Uncle Eddy