Dear Bertha, Well, what do you have to say for yourself after your first year at college?  Are you better for it, or worse? Is the college better for it, or worse? Is the world better for it, or worse?  Odd questions? I think not. Now is the prime time for you to reflect on the first 9 months of your adult life – “well begun, half done,” as they say.  And if you aren’t well begun, why wait to make some good resolutions for the coming year (not to mention for the summer)? I can assure you that if you don’t take time to reflect, I will ask our Lord to take things into his own hands, and pull a St Norbert trick on you.  What’s that? You don’t know what a St Norbert trick is? Well then, let me tell you about it. Norbert was related to the Holy Roman Emperor on his father’s side and French nobility on his mother’s side.  A talented youth, he quickly made his way into the Emperor’s court, where his one ambition was to enjoy life as much as possible.  Hunting parties, feasts, balls, and all the lovely blueblood diversions occupied and satisfied him (sounds like freshman year at college).  Then, riding home through the fields one day, he was run down by a furious thunderstorm. Huge curtains of rain battered him; the dense, vast clouds blotted out the sun; and massive bolts of lightning threatened to impale him.  One of them threw his horse into a fright, and the horse, in turn, threw Norbert violently to the ground, where he lay as if dead for almost an hour. When he awoke, his first words echoed those of St Paul on the road to Damascus, “Lord, what do you want me to do?”  He heard God’s reply in the depth of his soul, “Turn from evil and do good: seek after peace and pursue it” (Psalm 33:15). Thus ended his frivolous court life. He followed up that moment of grace by going on a forty-day retreat. Soon afterward he was ordained a priest and began his seminal work of reforming the clergy throughout Christendom. Don’t worry, if I hear that you have decided to go on a retreat this summer I won’t assume that your freshman year was as dissolute as Norbert’s career as a courtier.  I will, however, pray that you hear God’s voice as clearly as Norbert did and that you do whatever he is asking of you with equal gusto. Hopes and prayers, Uncle Eddy

Dear Bonnie, You have always been popular, just like today’s saint.  In fact, when he resolved to leave behind his beloved English monastery and set out to convert the pagans in northern Europe (today’s Germany), his followers elected him abbot in order to convince him to stay.  But he knew his calling and forged ahead. Later, when he had been consecrated regional Bishop for all of Germany and Papal Legate to Germany and Gaul (today’s France), his letters requesting missionaries from England to help his evangelizing activities brought a steady flow of eager disciples across the Channel and into his religious workforce.  As a gifted teacher, an even more gifted preacher, and a phenomenal organizer, his warm, inviting personality opened hearts and attracted converts his whole life long. A popular fellow indeed. But he is not to be emulated for his popularity, my dear niece. Rather, he is to be emulated for his willingness to risk his popularity. When he came to the Continent, pockets of Christians could already be found among the Germanic towns, ministered to by a few scattered priests and monks who were far from exemplary pastors (or Christians, for that matter).  Boniface’s challenge was to wean these Christians and their non-Christian neighbors from their comfortably and deeply ingrained pagan ways. Even the Christians would sell their slaves to witches and sorcerers for human sacrifice.  Polygamy, infanticide, divorce and the whole gamut of pagan practices were fondly practiced by those who claimed to be followers of Christ (including a few bishops and nuns) and those who didn’t. Striding into such a moral quagmire in order to preach self-control, monotheism, humility and brotherly love was not a formula to win popularity contests.  But he cared less about pleasing other people than he did about pleasing God, and this spirit of faith gave him the strength he needed to challenge the very people he targeted for conversion. You will remember, of course, the famous scene on Mount Gudenberg.  Boniface had recently returned from one of his trips to Rome, where he had received special authority from the Pope and then from the powerful monarch Charles Martel (I imagine the local chieftains were less content with this than he was).  He publicly announced that on the following day he would chop down Donar’s sacred oak tree – one of the most popular objects of pagan devotion in the whole region. The amazed and fearful crowd gathered to see how the gods would punish such impetuous presumption, but after a few hacks, the giant tree thundered to the ground, breaking into four immense parts.  St Boniface had no qualms about risking his own popularity in order to ensure lasting adherence to the gospel. I can’t help thinking that this is a lesson you might need to learn, especially after reading a copy of that talk you gave to the Alumni Association, in which you tactfully avoided mentioning the issues that really ought to have been mentioned.  I leave it up to your prayers and those of St Boniface to give you the courage you need to continue “seeking first the Kingdom of God” and not the kingdom of Bonnie. Love, Uncle Eddy