Newspaper Page Text
The Southern Cross, April 13, 1963—PAGE 5
World Is The Saint’s Workshop
By BARBARA C. JENCKS
DAY OF RECOLLECTION—Fr. Neal O’Brien, O. F. M., assistant pastor of St. Augus
tine’s, Thomasville, gave a women’s day of recollection on Passion Sunday at St. Clare s,
Albany. A small but interested group of ladies took part.
Communion Breakfast
At Saint Vincent’s
Stones Cry Out
(Continued From Page 1)
“We often think it isn’t
possible today to live as a
Christian. Yet we know well
that the world of the saints
was no less worldly and that
the saints were no less un
yielding. The saints traveled
our way and it led to God.
We often forget that saints
grow out of everyday life and
that God has called us to
walk the same way.”
Rev. William Kelly, S. J.
* * *
WE WERE talking about
saints the other night. I asked
my friend if she had known
anyone that she would unhesi
tatingly call “a saint.” We dis
cussed a number of unusual
people we had known—shut-
ins, priests, nuns for the most
part. We judged on the exter
nals, the saint-like-hallmarks
visible, knowing this was a
superficial judgement. My
friend mentioned a nun we both
knew and then she named my
mother. Certainly in a lifetime,
we know many saints-^not those
who will know official canoni
zation but who are examples of
sancity and who are known only
to God. What better public?
When we think about sanctity
and people who we have known
that might truly be saints, ours
i£ but a mere mortal’s view:
We do not see intentions, mo
tives, the hundreds of hidden
acts of virtue. We judge on the
telltale external—which is a
beginning, of course. We judge
extraordinary manifestations of
purity, patience, charity. We
look for heroic acceptance of
trials which would send the rest
of us scurrying. We seek sanc
tity in those who quietly accept
great physical, mental, and spi
ritual sufferings without a cry
of protest. This is where we
separate the men from the boys
or rather the run-of-the-mill
from the extraordinary. Sanc
tity is a fascinating subject
since every soul is involved.
* * *
SAINT IS PROBABLY the
most overworked and most er
roneously defined word in the
Catholic vocabulary. We have
-Unrealistic -ideas- -about
sanctity. Mostly that a saint is
a “goody-goody” in the sense
that he is devoid of any color
and charm and interest. Saints
would not be the every-day
choice companion to most Ca
tholics who non-the-less know
that it is to sanctity they are
called. We have the litany of
saints to prove there was hardly
a dull one. In my particular
litany of favorites, Augustine,
Magdalene, Patrick, Brigid,
Francis, John, Teresa, Anthony
—not a Pllyanna there. I won
der if we would have recogni
zed them as saints in their
hay-day. Probably no more
than the people who rub shoul
ders with us each day. Yet
there is something that sets the
saint apart. The saint tries
harder, but not in an obvious
way. God deliver us from the
public breast-beater. Those
who have become saints, in the
formal sense, were known to
have been impatient, intempo-
rate, imprudent and other fail
ings which keep us from even
the starting line. Discuss the
subject of sanctity sometime
with your family and friends
and see what their definitions
and thoughts on sanctity would
be. The usual thinking runs
something like this. Sanctity
is hardly for the now and here,
the vibrant living. It is for the
old, the sick but certainly not
for the young, the healthy filled
with life and vigor. But it is,
and we have example after ex
ample to prove it. We meet
dozens of saints everyday.
* * *
MOTHER SETON’S beatifica
tion is sure to introduce the
topic of American saints and
sanctity. Is an American saint
different from a French saint
or an Italian saint? No, saints
are saints as people are people.
The American saint might have
eaten hotdogs and gone to a
drive-in whereas his Italian
counterpart ate fetuccini and
strolled by the Colloseum but
the same will power, pick-
yourself - up - again - courage,
love of God before all else
prompts the saints of everyday
and age. I do believe, however,
that to be a saint; in today’s
modern secular America takes
heroic courage. Each one of us
is a potential saint, some near
er, some further away. But the
score-cards have not been
handed in. I sometimes am
prone to think that the leasue
habits or cassocks have a corn
er on sanctity. Also the shut-
in-the friends of mine who have
been confined to beds, wheel
chairs for years and years who
were completely dependent and
who seldom complained. But
then ag^in, nurses and doctors
have a|running start on sanc
tity. Their very vocation like
the nun or priest sets them
apart. It takes great patience
to tend and administer to the
sick and helpless. Yet there is
no saint-type. There is one
sure sign of a saint. . . he has
no idea that he is onel That’s
the thing about sanctity. . .the
real saint-in-the-makingthinks
he is the world’s worst and
everyone else the world’s best.
This pride that comes from go
ing through “the whole bag of
tricks,” as the Irish call it,
going through the eternal mo
tions of being religious some-
• times breeds pride and a ten
dency to criticize others appa
rent lack of mortification, cha
rity, spirituality, etc. This is
“phoney sanctity” often ap
pears as the real thing. The
saint is not the odd-ball, the
wearer of the religious symbols
on the sleeve. This is what the
spiritual writers warn about.
Real sanctity is solid and is
not puffed up. The world is the
saint’s workshops—and it is
everyone’s business.
Laymen Successful
MANILA, P.I., (NC)—Credit
for the success of a parish on
the island of Negros is given by
its Columban missionary pastor
to first-rate lay organizations.
The parish of Isabela has two
high schools and 13 elementary
schools, plus released-time re
ligion classes for 5,000 public
students.
How do Father Sean Halloway,
S.S.C., and one assistant priest
care for this establishment?
They have the help of 55 un
its of the Legion of Mary, an
organization of parish men, and
the Catholic Women’s League.
(By Anne Tansey)
Evan was rooted to the spot
at the approach of a band of men.
His mistress, Claudia, had as
sured him he would be safe for
the night on the Mount of Olives.
“No one goes there after
dark,” she said. “By morning
there will be such goings on in
Jerusalem that no one will pay
heed to a runaway slave.”
There was a full moon. The
tall, red-headed youth whose
hair and fair skin had been
darkened with dye for the get
away, crouched farther back
among the olive trees.
There were a dozen men.
They were not armed and ap
peared to be intent on their own
affairs. Evan gasped at the ap
pearance of the Leader. He was
the most handsome man he had
ever seen. The pain in his face,
however, was hard to witness.
He had the look of a man about
to die.
Evan remembered that look
on his father’s face when the
raiding party which threatened
his village had out-numbered
the defenders critically. His fa
ther had died nobly as befit a
chief. Before he died the in
vaders had paid a heavy toll and
left many of their number be
hind on the soil of Britain.
As he had been very young
Evan’s life had been spared.He
was carried off, however, and
sold into slavery. He had had
several masters before he was
sold to Pontius Pilate in Rome.
When Pilate was made procura
tor of Judea he took Evan with
him to the East.
Pilate's wife, Claudia, had
been good to the slave boy from
SAVANNA H—The Annual
Communion Breakfast sponsor
ed by St. Vincent’s Alumnae
Association was held on Sunday,
March 31st, in the cafeteria
of the Academy. It was preced
ed by a Mass at 9 a.m. at the
Cathedral of St. John the Bap
tist, which members of the
Association attended in a body
and received Holy Communion.
His Excellency, Most Rev.
Thomas J. McDonough, Bishop
of Savannah, was guest speaker
at the breakfast. Bishop McDon
ough spoke on the outstanding
beauty of the Cathedral as a
resHilt of the recent Renova
tion Porgram and lauded Rt.
Rev. Msgr. T. James McNama
ra for his foresight in the plan
ning of the Program. Bishop
McDonough asked the ladies to
keep in their prayers the need
for vocations in the Diocese.
Rt. Rev. Msgr. Andrew J. Mc
Donald, Chancellor of the Dio-
the beginning and promised she
would help him to escape as
soon as he was old enough to
make the perilous journey back
to his homeland.
Claudia had kept her word.
“There will never be a more
opportune time than now,” she
said. “The city is aroused as
never before over the Nazar-
ene.”
She had a map drawn which
would take Evan to Spain. From
there he would be on his own.
He had enough silver and gold
in his pouch to buy food, lodg
ing and transportation.
As an added precaution Clau
dia had also given the slave a
milk white solution which when
applied to the dyed skin gave the
appearance of leprosy. “Dab it
on your face if you ever find
yourself in a tight corner,” his
mistress had advised. “Few
people will lay hands on a lep
er.”
Getting outside the walls
of the Fortress Antonia and of
Jerusalem was made easy by a
passport given him by Claudia.
It stated he was on a mission
for her. She would hold off alarm
over his absence as long as
possible.
Claudia had done all she could
for the youth. Now he was on
his own. But he was the son of
a chief. He was making his way
to a little cave on the side of the
mount where he intended to
camp for the night.
“The Romans are more vigil
ant at night than during the day,”
Claudia had warned. “Travel
by day when possible, losing
yourself in crowds of people.”
The intruders took posses
sion of the cave before Evan
reached it. After a few moments
the Leader and three of them
came out and walked across the
little road that led from the top
of Olivet to Cedron. They kept
walking in the direction in which
Evan was hiding. The slave re
treated foot by cautious foot.
Finally they stopped. Three
of the men sat down and rest
ed against the trees. The Lead
er went on a short distance to
a large, flat rock. He knelt
down and buried his face in his
hands in utter misery. Evan
thought he heard the sound of
weeping.
The Briton could not take his
eyes from the Leader. He
watched as he threw himself
prostrate on the rock and cried
out loud, “My Father, if it is
possible let this cup pass from
me.” Then after a long, silent
intekval added, “Yet, not my
will but thine be done.”
Evan was puzzled. Where was
this Father whom he was ad
dressing? There was no one
around but the three men a little
distance off. They were asleep.
cese, was a guest at the break
fast, as well as the past presi
dents of the Alumnae Associa
tion.
Mrs. John E. Corcoran serv
ed as general chairman, assis
ted by Mrs. Thomas E. White
and Mrs. Geo. Lingenfilser.
Mrs. Charles L. McKenzie, Jr.
served as toastmistress.
Following the breakfast, the
regular monthly meeting was
held at which the following offi
cers were elected: President,
Mrs. Charles L. McKenzie, Jr.;
Vice-President, Mrs. Carol
Kelly; Recording Secretary,
Mrs. John E. Corcoran, Cor
responding Secretary, Mrs.
John Dillon; Treasurer, Mrs.
Bart E. Shea.
The Association’s project for
this year will be a Fashion
Show on May 2, 1963. The show
will be unique in that it will be
held in the Cloistered Gardens
of St. Vincent’s Academy and
The three were abruptly
awakened when a young man
whom the others called Mark,
came running up crying that the
Roman soldiers and temple
guards'bath raided his father’s
house in search of Jesus.
Evan almost gasped aloud. He
had heard so much of Jesus of
Nazareth. Some of the soldiers
of the fortress had gone to hear
him preach and were much im
pressed. Claudia spoke kindly
to him but said he was raising
a storm that would never be set
tled. Evan was glad of the op
portunity to see him.
Mark was comforted and sent
away. The three men lay down
again. Those in the cave had
not even come out. Jesus went
back to the rock. It reminded
Evan of the altar stones on which
the Druid priests in his home
land had performed their rit
uals.
Jesus awakened his compan
ions once and asked them to re
main awake. But they did not.
Back on the rock, alone, Jesus
swayed back and forth in ex
treme agony of spirit. Sud
denly there was a bright light.
Out of it appeared a beautiful
creature with white wings.
He looked pitingly upon the
praying man but no word was
spoken.
Jesus began to sweat. Evan
could see the drops glisten on
his neck under the moonlight.
Suddenly the drops turned dark
er and darker. They were as
dark as blood. But no one had
ever heard of a man sweating
blood. Some of the drops ran
down on the stone.
The slave was as one trans
fixed at the spectacle. He want
ed to be sick. Suddenly the night
was rent with the horrifying
sound of Roman soldiers. Their
steel sabers clicked in the still
ness.
Knowing they were coming
for him, Jesus arose and went
to meet them. A man who ac
companied the soldiers kissed
him. The kiss seemed to be a
signal for at that moment the
soldiers grabbed Jesus, bound
him and led him away.
Evan wished he were back in
the fortress. That is how he
would be led back if he was
caught. The penalty was death
for a slave to attempt to es
cape. He was so frightened
he decided to strike out for
freedom immediately. Yet
something held him in the gar
den.
The youth was overtaken by a
strange feeling of awe.
What would become of the
man they had led away? Was
that what Claudia meant, they
would be so excited over Je
sus in Jerusalem that no one
would think of anything or any-
will be the first outdoor fashion
parade so far held in the city.
Fine’s of Savannah will furnish
the clothes to be modeled.
Sister M. Jean, R. S. M.
Advisor, complimented the
members on the large turnout
for the breakfast. Sister M.
Fidelis, R. S. M. spoke briefly
on the recent Vocations Pro
gram held for the students at
the Academy.
Appreciation was expressed
to Mrs. Helen Balcom and her
assistants for the delicious
breakfast and also to the
servers, all of whom were
students at the Academy.
Saint Vincent's
Alumnae Boatride
Saturday, April 20
SAVANNAH — The annual
Boat ride sponsored by St. Vin
cent’s Alumnae will be held on
April 20th.
The group will leave on The
Visitor at 10:15 a.m. and have
dinner at the Savannah Gas
Company Recreation Center on
Wilmington Island, and return
around 6 p.m.
Price of the Boat trip and
dinner is $4.00. Tickets may be
obtained at St. Vincent’s Acad
emy or by contacting Mrs. Fred
Lindsay at AD 2-4356.
one else?. In that ...case he was
being saved by Jesus.
Before he left Evan had to
make certain the dark stains
on the rock of prayer were
blood. He took the white face
cloth Claudia had given him in
remembrance of her and dip
ped it into a small pool. It
was blood!
The cloth felt holy. Suddenly
it seemed like a great treas
ure. He hid it carefully upon
his person and stole away.
Evan marveled at how right
Claudia had been. All Judea-
was so excited about Jesus that
no one paid attention to the slave
who passed through the kingdom
like a shadow. He followed the
map carefully and arrived safe
ly in Spain.
He had no occasion to use the
white solution which would make
him seem to be a leper. No
sea captain tried to press him
into service.
He traveled for hundreds of
miles through many lands and
crossed large bodies of water
and in time found himself home
in Britain.
Evan found his mother still
alive. The tribe was in sore
straits for a capable leader.
Evan was chosen chief. He mar
ried and had children.
The cloth which had been giv
en him by Claudia and which
he had dipped into the blood of
Jesus was put carefully away.
Evan had the impression that it
had had something to do with
his easy escape and the ease of
his journey back to his home
land. He often wondered what
became of Jesus.
According to legend there was
an Evan, Cheif of Somerset, who
met Joseph of Arimathea and a
little band of disciples who land
ed on the West coast of England
to plant the Faith of Jesus
Christ; that it was he who urg
ed the King of England to al
low the newcomers to settle in
the vale of Avalon and preach
to the people. It is said that
the famous Glastonburry Ab
bey had its beginning in the
small chapel they built.
termite!
SWARMING?
of Our Lord’s day.
Just beyond it is the present
village, which bears the Arabic
name of El-Azarieh, which be
gan as El-Lazarie, from the
name of Lazarus, whom Our
Lord raised from the dead.
The tomb of Lazarus would have
been outside the village of his
day.
Bethany is on the way from
Jerusalem to Jericho. The mod
ern Jericho, a pleasant town
set among palm trees, is a
short distance from the site
of the old. The road from Je
rusalem still goes through some
forbidding, barren territory.
For His story of the Good
Samaritan and the man who
“fell in with robbers,” Our
Lord chose the road to Jericho
as the location. One can still
picture that road as a grim
gauntlet for any lonely travel
er to run.
In some places more than the
locality can be identified. One
can touch the very flagstones
and walls that were there in
Our Lord’s lifetime.
Massive stone blocks that
were part of the walls around
the pool * ‘having five porticeos
. . .by the Sheepgate” in Jeru
salem, masonry that met Our
Lord’s eyes, can be seen today.
About 40 miles north of Je
rusalem, Jacob’s well is still
beside the road. There Christ
sat on the low parapet, “wearied
from the journey,” and “there
came a Samaritan woman to
draw water.” There are still
some 200 Samaritans, a dwind
ling sect, in the nearby town of
Nablus.
The woman, puzzled by Our
Lord’s words about “livingwa
ter,” said: "The well is deep.”
It still is—about 100 feet deep.
I drank some of the cool, clear
water from its depths.
On the way through the coun
tryside to Samaria and Jacob’s
well, I thought I saw corn—
maize—growing in a field. I
asked what it was. “White
corn,” the guide answered.
White corn. . .The image that
Our Lord used, speaking at Ja
cob’s well of the vast number
of souls to be won, was: “Lift
up your eyes and behold that the
fields are already white for the
harvest.”
Wide, reddish flagstones,
furrowed and dented, from the
floor of a crypt chapel under
the convent of Our Lady of
Sion in Jerusalem. These are
part of the pavement of the
Antonia Fortress built by Herod
and garrisoned by Roman sold
iers at the time of Our Lord’s
Crucifixion. Scratched on the
stones are crude drawings of
the soldiers’ games, including
the “Game of the King,” in
which a condemned criminal
was mocked.
The tomb in which Our Lord’s
body was laid was “in the
place where He was crucified.”
What remains of it, now much
adorned but still in the propor
tions of a burial chamber, is
only about 30 paces from Cal
vary. Both are within the som
bre Basilica of the Holy Sepul
chre, which is inside the present
walled city.
Outside Jerusalem one can
still see the great round stones
that were wheeled into place to
cover the entrances to such
tombs. No wonder Mary Magda
lene and the other two women,
going to the tomb on Easter
morning, asked themselves:
“Who will roll the stone back
for us?”
Places of primary impor
tance and long-standing tradi
tion in the Holy Land are easily
distinguishable from secondary
shrines, supported by compara
tively late or vague evidence.
The long-standing traditions
are guides for archaeologists.
Jerusalem and Palestine as a
whole have indeed been fought
over and ravaged again and
again, but they have never been
forgotten by either the followers
or the foes of Christ. Inside the
country or outside it, there
could have been no collective
amnesia regarding the places
most closely connected with the
life and death of Our Lord.
Above the ground and in it the
Holy Land offers confirmation
of the Gospel record of the life
of Christ. The stones cry out in
testimony that the Divine Re
deemer lived, taught, suffered,
died and rose from the dead.
ALBANY
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A HAPPY EASTER TO YOU!
E ostur—that’s where our word “Easter” comes from, meaning
“Season of the Rising Sun.” This Feast of New Life, cele
brated in pre-Christian times, to us
1 signifies the new life of the Risen
Christ.
But the villagers of REMAYLE in
r’twa* t * 1C Maron ^ e diocese of TRIPOLIS,
I ' V> Lebanon, don’t even have a church in
' which to celebrate Easter. 460 hard
working farmers a few years ago be
gan to build one, but have only been
. able to raise the walls of ST. Sl-
Y v MON’S. $2,000 will complete this
The Holy Father’s Mission Aid building, which lacks roof, floor, in-
r .l n . / ru l side plastering and furniture. Won’t
for the Oriental Church you £, p ,
A ustrian country folk used to have a lovely custom. Any
stranger plight enter their home on Easter Day, receive
a royal welcome, partake of the Easter Feast. You can welcome
a STRANGER to your table by sending a $10 jFOOD PACK
AGE to a Palestine Refugee family, enough to help them a
month.
S olemn Blessing of special food was always observed in East
ern Europe. Sometimes the festive dishes were piled on huge
tables outside the church and blessed
with great solemnity by the priests
after the Easter Liturgy.
By educating a seminarian or train
ing a sister-to-be you can bring a
great blessing to those in missionary
lands. SEBASTIAN THAIL and IG
NATIUS THALAKOTTOOR are two
students for the priesthood in Manga
lore, India. They need $100 a year for
six years each ... Or perhaps you
would like to pay the expenses of a novice, either SISTER
MARIE AMINA or SISTER MARIE SARA of the Daughters of
Mary Immaculate in IRAQ. $150 a year for two years is needed
for each novice.
he Lamb, symbol of Christ, is always connected with Easter.
The Italians bake wonderful lamb-shaped cakes, white-
frosted, las a table centerpiece. Christ, the Lamb of God, is of
fered up daily by our T5.000 (missionary priests. Your MASS
OFFERINGS are often .their only support.
E ggs for Easter go back many years. The egg, symbol of life,
also represents the tomb from which Christ rose. Slavic
people make beautiful designs on them with wax and colored
paints, masterpieces requiring hours of painstaking work. We
will send a lovely EASTER GIFT CARD to someone in whose
name you wish to make a gift. STRINGLESS GIFTS enable us
to help where help is most needed.
tbbits were believed by our ancestors to have unusual powers.
They were supposed never to close itheifr eyes or pleep,
day or night. Later the Easter Bunny be
came the legendary producer of colored
eggs for children.
In some part of the 18 countries in
the Near and Far East, it is always day
and our priests, brothers and sisters are
awake to serve the poor, the lepers, the
orphans, old folks, and to administer the
sacraments. You can participate in their
work and graces by joining our associ
ation:
Single membership: $1 a year. Family membership: $5 a year.
Single life membership: $20. Family life membership: $100.
T
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Dear Monsignor:
Enclosed find
for
Name .
Street
Zone
City
State
‘Rear last OlissionsjMi
FRANCIS CARDINAL SPELLMAN, Pratidaa*
y»pr. Jewpk T. Ryoa, Motl SnV
Send alt cfwmiieariMM tax
CATHOLIC NEAR EAST WELFARE ASSOCIATION
A Qf\ I Atn Ct KLu/ Ynrt 17 N V.
The Cloth Of Claudia