John Henry Newman in an allocutio

This evening I gave an allocutio inspired by Ch. 28, Section 5 of the Legion handbook, which is a very dry chapter on a particular higher governing body of the Legion. Basically, the home base in Dublin. What was inspiring about it, after several subsections on correspondents, voting rules, etc., was a little quote from Blessed John Henry Newman at the very end. It wasn't the quote itself I appreciated, but the reminder of another of his (perhaps most famous) quotes, which I know I have written about somewhere on this blog. Anyway, below is the text of my talk, which was a lot of fun to give. 

I would like to focus our allocutio tonight on the quote included at the very end of the reading, from Venerable John Henry Newman. Occasionally in our handbook, and especially these past few weeks as we get to know the various higher governmental systems of the Legion, we have seen a few quotes from Newman. I knew little of Newman until recently, when I began to see him pop up in our readings, so I wanted to learn more about him. I discovered this really nice quote of his:

“God has created me to do Him some definite service. He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission. I may never know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next. I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons.

He has not created me for naught. I shall do good; I shall do His work.

I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place, while not intending it if I do but keep His commandments.

Therefore, I will trust Him, whatever I am, I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him, in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him. If I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him. He does nothing in vain. He knows what He is about. He may take away my friends. He may throw me among strangers. He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide my future from me. Still, He knows what He is about.”
I find this to be such a breath of fresh air; yet another example of a friend saint who can help us see the bigger picture. There were a few lines that stood out to me:

·        He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another.

·        I can never be thrown away.

·        He knows what He is about.

This reassurance of our uniqueness and value is so critical. I find this idea of our uniqueness, but usefulness, reflected in the spirit of the Legion, and in the thought that everyone who comes to the Legion has something to offer. We have lots of works we perform, but individual personalities and talents which lend themselves to the tasks in different ways. And most importantly, God knows what He is about – He knows what he asks of us and why, and I think we can say the same thing for the Blessed Mother – she knows what she is about, and this is especially true when we perform our work and she is with us.

I enjoyed the readings from Monday, and see this idea reflected there. The readings told the story of Zacchaeus, who was a short in stature but determined to get closer to Our Lord. He could have given himself the excuse that he was small, unseeable, or unworthy, but he ignored what he didn’t have (height) and used what he did have (guts!). He climbed up the tree, made himself known, and Jesus ended up coming over for dinner. To add to that, Zacchaeus ultimately gave away half his possessions, which I doubt was his intent to begin with. In other words, he used what God gave him and ended up with even greater spiritual growth than he could have planned for. I believe the same is possible for all of us when we are able to trust in God, that He knows what He is about and what is best for us. And, too, when we live out the special mission God has for us. Further, we can emulate Zachaeus in his fearlessness in his approach to Jesus. He put everything on the line, because Jesus is worth it.

I have no advice for how to discover that mission other than prayer. You may already have an idea of your mission, anyway. Don’t be afraid of it. The important thing to remember is that even if it takes your whole life, as Newman said, you can never be thrown away. God is infinitely patient with us and waits for us, as we wait for him.

Remembrance

This is the time of year for remembrance. It is the end of another year; it is the beginning of the holiday season, and we revisit what we have, what we love and what we've learned.

Growing up, my family drove 8 hours to Pennsylvania to see my Grandma every Christmas. No matter how late we arrived, she would be awake, warm us up something to eat and then tuck us into bed. It is hard to remember the specifics of those weeks - a lot of cooking at her side as she patiently taught us to make pie crust and other goodies; writing and acting out comedy shows with the cousins to the great amusement of the rest of the family; watching Uncle Buck (Grandma would laugh until she cried); going to Mass at St. Vincent, the giant church on the hill; eating Jioio's pizza and playing bingo. These are such small things. Yet they are as real to me now as the fact I go to work every day. 

Did those days really ever end? Is there not some parallel universe where we are all still celebrating Christmas together? Where the drive-in movie theater is still open, the bingo numbers are still being called, the pizzelles just finished baking? Where everyone we loved is still alive?

 A very long time ago my dad and I were in the front yard, and I was lamenting the fact that our beautifully blooming irises would not last long. The irises were my pride, as I selected and planted them - great, glowing purple and white beauties positively reigning over the other plants. And while we cut them and put them in water to enjoy their beauty and scent, it was ultimately to watch them fade.

His response was something to the effect of: if they lasted forever, you wouldn't appreciate them. This answer didn't satisfy my teenage self then, but now that I am older, I begin to see his meaning: these temporary things we have - sunsets, flowers, vacations, a whole pan of brownies, glimpses of Heaven - simply cannot last, because it is not in their nature, and it is not what God designed them, or us, for. You remember them, and you hold on to their memory, and in doing so you learn their value. If you have that good thing, whatever it is, all the time whenever you want it - well, it's not special. Then the scent of irises is no more special than a bottled perfume waiting on the shelf.

We can take this further and say, too, that not only is life not meant to be all sweetness and beauty at all moments, but that the sorrowful times critically necessary. As Bishop Fulton Sheen wrote, "Unless there is a Good Friday in your life, there can be no Easter Sunday."

How much I would love to see my family again as I did when I was eight; to peel chestnuts for stuffing, listen to oldies on New Year's Eve, see my grandfather play accordion and sing Christmas songs.

But no matter; I remember. And it is in this remembrance that I can still find meaning and value, even when the real thing is long gone. Thank God for memories, even when they pull us back.  

You are the Body of Christ

Below is the allocutio I will deliver during the Legion of Mary meeting tomorrow evening. The allocutio is given by the spiritual director, or in his absence, the President, and is a reflection on that week's spiritual reading.

Ch. 28: Government of the Legion: Parts 2, The Curia and the Comitium, Sections 10-11

Tonight’s reading focuses on the annual visitation of a curia to a praesidium. There were a few phrases that stood out to me.

One was, “It is important that this duty…be fulfilled in a spirit of affection and humility which will presume that there will be as much to be learned from as taught to the praesidium visited.”

Also, regarding the idea that such visits are interference, Duff disagrees, writing: “Shall the hand say to the head, ‘I need not your help?’”

We are so focused in the Legion on rule, order and structure, and have discussed at length the reasons for observing the Legion guidelines, and benefits of doing so. Earlier this year when I was at the training to volunteer at the jail, I met another volunteer who said her mother had been in the Legion when she was alive, many years ago. “I imagine the Legion is very different now than then, though,” she commented.

“No,” I answered. “I would think it is very much the same.”

The surprises we receive in the Legion are not due to unpreparedness or lack of protocol, but the surprise that comes from performing the work. I don’t mean solely in the sense of the surprising people we meet or the situations we find ourselves in, but the surprising grace that is always present, always carrying us in our task, always ready to see us through. The real surprise is in seeing how strong you are, and what you’re capable of, when you allow God to use you as He intends. I think this, and not how many rules we have, is the biggest surprise of the Legion.

And too, that sense of learning Duff mentions is constant in the Legion. I learn from your experiences, I learn from the readings, I learn from the way other groups run their meetings and the creative ways people come together to help each other. Humility, patience, greater love, acceptance – this is what we learn. These are the Marian virtues we seek to emulate and which Duff tells are us crucial for that universal call to sainthood.

The imagery of a head and body are familiar as they are a reminder of the idea that the Church is the body of Christ. All people make up this body, and we are connected. We are especially focused on the idea of familial relationships now, as the Synod of Bishops continues in Rome. And just on Sunday, Louis and Zelie Martin, parent of St. Therese of Lisieux, were canonized. They are the first married couple in modern times to be canonized, and were canonized because of their marriage – because of the way they loved one another but God more, how they  served others, raised their children to love God, and how their family home reflected the mystical home of Nazareth.  This tells you all you need to know about how family, marriage and relationships are central in Catholic teaching. We learn that it is in relationships with others that we grow, when we connect with others, as a hand works with a head, as a mother to a child, as a friend to a friend. The Legion provides us an abundance of opportunities to connect with others in our work, our meetings and as we take the spirit of the Legion into our daily lives.

A visit from the Curia is not a cause for concern; it is simply another opportunity to learn. St. Paul said, “Now you are the body of Christ, and each of you is a member of it.” (1 Corinthians 12:27) Brothers and sisters, let us continue to learn from the relationships we build and the strength we find as part of the body of the Legion and the body of Christ.