Dear Ricky, Did I detect a bit of discouragement in your last note, or was it just my daily gruel disagreeing with me again?  Since after these years of solitary confinement I believe I am quite used to my daily gruel, I will assume that the former is correct.  No need, my young apostle, no need at all. Every apostolic endeavor has ups and downs, and so we must always keep pumping new energy and new ideas into our evangelizing efforts.  We will be able to rest when we get to heaven, please God. In your present circumstances, I have an idea. Nothing jump-starts enthusiasm like a pilgrimage, so why not organize a special pilgrimage for your group?  Do it up right, think big, get everyone involved in it. One of you can research the “theology of pilgrimages,” another few could be the travel committee, planning all the travel details, while some others start up a fundraising committee.  You can start having liturgies of preparation, gathering prayer intentions from friends and relatives. Make it a pilgrimage for the Pope, or for Life, or for Christian Unity, or for the Conversion of Sinners. Go to Rome if you can, or the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, or to a shrine or Church closer by (there are a lot of possible sites, you know).  Invite a great preacher to be your chaplain. Big or small, for a week or for an afternoon, however you cut it up, preparing for and carrying out a pilgrimage in a spirit of faith is an incomparable way to stoke that fire of love for Christ that you see waning among your friends. Take today’s saint, for example.  Godric was a poor boy from a poor family in England.   He started making a living by peddling, then branched out a bit, started to travel and trade, and eventually became a full-fledged merchant (some would say “pirate”).  He saw the world, and liked it. But after reading a biography of that great hero of the faith St Cuthbert he started wondering if maybe he was missing the boat. So he went on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem (no small feat back in those days).  His conversion began. Three pilgrimages later (to Campostela, Spain, to the shrine of St Giles in Provence, France, and to Rome – with his mother who made the whole trip barefoot) he knew that God had called him to a solitary life of prayer and penance.  He ended up attaching himself to a hermit in northern England, and after this mentor’s death, setting up his own little hermitage under the direction of a local monastery. He befriended a whole forest-full of wild animals (they used to run to his little hut when they were in danger), frequently gave audience to strangers searching for spiritual advice (a bunch of whom became canonized saints themselves), and predicted a whole slew of historic happenings (including the day of his own death).  God even gave him the ability to envision events that were taking place far away (shipwrecks, battles, etc.) so that he could pray for them. St Godric filled the countryside (and the country) with the sweet aroma of Christ for sixty years, and it all started with a pilgrimage. Remember, only fools learn from experience; the wise learn from the experience of others.  God bless. Uncle Eddy

Dear Bernie, I daresay that the frustration and anxiety that you wrote about in your last note are completely unnecessary.  The problem – I would bet my life’s savings on it, if my captors had not confiscated my life’s savings, that is – comes not from the circumstances that surround you on the outside (over-commitment, distractions, difficulties), but from carelessness on the inside.  You have the secret weapon for conquering peace of mind and stability of life right inside you. It’s called your conscience.  Do you really listen to your conscience, do you know how to tell when your conscience is speaking, do you build up your conscience by reviewing your catechism about the Ten Commandments?  God never stops coaching you, guiding you, nudging you, giving you advice – he is always interested in every part of your life and always talking to you about it, and your conscience is the receiver, the loudspeaker that he built into your heart so you could always hear him.  But every time you ignore or disobey your conscience, it’s like turning down the volume on the loudspeakers: the next time it will be harder to hear it. If today’s saint had not been a man of conscience, the thousands of souls he brought back to God might have died in their sins.  St Bernardino of Siena spent 30 years walking from town to town and city to city all over the Italian peninsula (actually, in his later years he was so weak that he reluctantly agreed to ride a donkey on his longer trips), bringing entire metropolitan areas to repentance and renewed zeal for the Kingdom of Christ.  He did it by preaching. He would preach for 3 or 4 hours at a time, 3 or 4 times a day. He had to preach outside because the churches were too small to hold the crowds. He resolved violent feuds, uprooted social vices, and inspired thousands of young men to enter the religious life. And it all started because as a young man he was faithful to his conscience.   He was of a noble Sienese family and had all the privileges and comforts of nobility.  What’s more, he was blessed with a remarkably affable and winning disposition, as well as natural good looks.  When he was still in school as a young man, he caught the eye of a man of high position, who repeatedly invited Bernardino to enter into his elite circle – one that was influential, wealthy, affording all the most alluring pleasures, and riddled with sin.  From the perspective of an ambitious youth, it was the opportunity of a lifetime, a chance to enter into the fast lane of Italian high society. But would it be worth it if he had to muffle his conscience? Bernardino thought not. He preferred to gather a few friends and take over the local hospital during a horrible plague, and then tend his sick and dying aunt, and finally discover his vocation to become the greatest Franciscan priest of the 15th century and lead countless souls into Christ’s eternal embrace. Therefore, my dear nephew, don’t try to bring peace into your soul from the outside, but let the peace of a clean and robust conscience flow out from within.  Count on my prayers. Uncle Eddy

Dear Perry, I just read an article claiming that 70% of Americans list shopping among their top 3 forms of entertainment.  God help us! Shopping for entertainment? I thought shopping was a nuisance, a necessary evil (taking time to go run errands and buy things, etc.).  Since when has it become entertainment?  I guess this is only logical, however, in a world that values things more than people, health more than life, and comfort more than truth.  The problem with all of this, of course (as you and I have frequently discussed), is that it weakens us. The toughness we need in order to stand firm in our faith and go forth to expand the Kingdom of God requires habits of self-discipline and sacrifice, but consumerism (searching for meaning by acquiring things) forms habits of self-indulgence and laziness. Just imagine if today’s saint had been contaminated with this “shopping” mentality.  Would he have been capable of spearheading Christ’s advance into the heart of Roman Gaul (modern France, you know)?  I think not. At least, his last and greatest mission would not have taken place, since it required a heroic degree of self-sacrifice.  The Roman prefect near Auxerre was dedicating a new temple to Jupiter. When Peregrine heard of it, he marched right into the town and started a campaign to convince the citizens to abandon their idolatry.  To no avail. He was immediately seized, tried, and condemned to death. After they tortured him, they cut off his head. Surely he cared more for the lasting values of the Kingdom of God than he did for the comforts and trinkets of this passing kingdom here below.  Watch out, my dear nephew, lest the “shopping for fun” mentality (and everything it implies) deaden your courage and dampen your zeal for spreading Christ’s Kingdom.   Your Uncle always, Eddy

Dear Celeste, You seem like you could use a bit of encouragement.  You always were a supremely sensitive soul. At times when you were growing up I used to think that this entire world was, well, a bit, how should I say… hard-edged for you.  In many ways, in fact, you follow after your most remarkable namesake, Peter of Morone, who took the name “Celestine V” when they elected him Pope. A peasant boy, his widowed mother saw from the beginning that he had a special vocation, and so she sent him to school, even though her relatives razzed her severely for it (why is it that relatives so often oppose us?).  He was always an exceptional boy, and when he turned 20 he went off to live as a hermit. He built himself a tiny cell on Mount Morone. It was so small that he could neither stand up in it nor lie down fully extended. All he wanted was to pray, to give himself fully to the things of God.  For the next 64 years, he lived in solitude, although he did receive ordination as a priest, and admirers and disciples finally convinced him to form a monastic community instead of keeping to himself all the time. Then the strangest thing happened. For two solid years, the Cardinals in Rome had been wrangling over who should be the next pope (yep – the see of Peter was empty for two solid years).  Well, good old St Peter Morone was talking to God about this, and God asked him to send the Cardinals a warning that if they didn’t straighten out their act (political interests were at the root of their wrangling), they would suffer for it.  The Cardinals hit upon a brilliant solution to the crisis: they named the renowned and holy monk Peter of Morone himself their new pope. But Pope Celestine was simply not fit for the job.  The 84-year old man was cruelly manipulated by kings and cardinals, zealots and connivers, such that worse chaos than before soon reigned supreme.  He suggested that they just build him a cell in the Papal Palace, and he could appoint three cardinals to rule the Church, but that didn’t go over well.  Finally, after only five years as Pope, he resigned! He gathered the cardinals and prelates together, read a solemn statement of resignation (citing his age and various ineptitudes as the primary reasons), took off his papal robes and put on his monk’s habit, prostrated himself and asked pardon for his blunders, then returned to his blessed solitude.  But his ordeal wasn’t over yet. Opposers of the new pope (Boniface VIII) threatened to use the popular hermit against him, so Boniface forcibly brought Peter back to Rome and stowed him away in a cell for ten months before he died. The saint was heard to remark, “I wanted nothing in the world but a cell, and a cell they have given me.” I am sure Pope St Celestine V will be more than happy to pray for you on all your gray and dreary days… Such happenings convince one that the Church is God’s after all, don’t they?  How else would it have survived? Love, Uncle Eddy