The bedrock of St. Francis’ theology is the foundation under which his brothers walk today.

He used to praise God the Artist in every one of God’s works. Whatever joy he found in things made he referred to their maker. He rejoiced in all the works of God’s hands. Everything cried out to him, “He who made us is infinitely good!’ He called animals “brother” or “sister,” and he exhorted them to praise God. He would go through the streets, inviting everyone to sing with him. And one time when he came upon an almond tree, he said, ‘Brother Almond, speak to me of God.” And the almond tree blossomed.

That is what St. Francis of Assisi did, and that is what he does for us once we are caught up in his life and teachings. He makes us blossom, wherever and whoever we are. We blossom because we see in Francis what could happen to us if we were to embrace the overflowing goodness of God revealed in everything that exists, and let that embrace change us.

Here are the core teachings of St. Francis.

The First Teaching: The Wonder of the Incarnation

God indwells churches as he indwelled the Ark of the Covenant. God indwells people just as he had first become human in Jesus Christ. And God indwells the gathering of believers, which we call the Church, which is the Mystical Body of Christ, the fullness of the Incarnation of God.

“We thank you that through your Son you created us, and that through the holy love you had for us you brought about his birth as true God and true man by the glorious, ever virgin, most blessed, holy Mary.”
–Rule of 1221, Chapter XXIII

The Second Teaching: Evangelical Poverty

We find God when we become poor enough for God to find us. For God is a humble God, as powerless as one hanging on a cross, hands and feet bound, unable to strike out, or strike back. And in that lowly poverty of the seemingly powerless God is the greatest power of all.

“And St. Francis added: ‘My dear and beloved Brother, the treasure of blessed poverty is so very precious and divine that we are not worthy to possess it in our vile bodies. For poverty is that heavenly virtue by which all earthy and transitory things are trodden under foot, and by which every obstacle is removed from the soul so that it may freely enter into union with the eternal Lord God. It is also the virtue which makes the soul, while still here on earth, converse with the angels in Heaven. It is she who accompanied Christ on the Cross, was buried with Christ in the Tomb, and with Christ was raised and ascended into Heaven, for even in this life she gives to souls who love her the ability to fly to Heaven, and she alone guards the armor of true humility and charity.’” –Francis of Assisi, The Little Flowers of St. Francis of Assisi

The Third Teaching: Live the Gospel

Like Francis and his brothers, we all can learn to love again, even in the midst of division and war. And the map Francis gave us for learning to love is the Gospel and his own life of following in the footsteps of Christ.

“And after the Lord gave me some brothers, no one showed me what to do; but the Most High revealed to me that I was to live according to the Gospel.” –The Testament of St. Francis

The Fourth Teaching: Go and Repair God’s House

That is the Franciscan challenge in our own time: contemplative seeing, affective response, practical help, and sustained assistance as the way of restoring God’s house which is falling into ruins. It is Jesus’s own prescription for learning to love.

“Let there be no brother who has sinned, no matter how seriously, who would look into your eyes seeking forgiveness, and go away without it. And should he not seek forgiveness, you should ask him if he wants it. And if after that he were to sin a thousand times, even before your eyes, love him more than me, for this is how you will draw him to the Lord: and always have mercy on such as these.” –Letter to a Minister

The Fifth Teaching: Peace

Interior peace is the awareness that God is and dwells in all of creation, and from that awareness flows concern for nature, justice for the poor, and commitment to society.

“Go, announce peace to all people; preach repentance for the remission of sins. Be patient in trials, watchful in prayer, and steadfast in weariness. Be modest in speech, responsible in your actions, and grateful to your benefactors. And in return an eternal kingdom is being made ready for you.” –St. Francis

The Sixth Teaching:  God’s House Is All of Creation

Francis knew the two stories of the beginnings of things in the book of Genesis. One story emphasizes human beings’ dominion over all lesser creatures. The other story was about humans’ care and nurturing of all creatures, including Earth itself. Francis loved the second story more. It appealed to who he was and how he saw his relationship to the world around him. So, he would praise God through Jesus Christ with all creatures, for all creatures, and in and by means of all creatures.

Francis embraced all things with an unheard-of love and devotion, speaking to them of the Lord and exhorting them to praise Him. –Thomas of Celano, Second Life of St. Francis

The Seventh Teaching: The Joy of Humble Praise and Service of God

Francis learned how to live with all creatures, loving them and serving them, and giving God thanks for them. And now, two years before he will embrace Sister Death, God assures Francis and us that everything belongs to everything else, and everything belongs to God. Everything is thereby holy and worthy of care, and reverence, and a song of God’s praise.

“The devil is most happy when he can snatch from a servant of God true joy of spirit. He carries dust with him to throw into the smallest chinks of conscience and thus soil one’s mental candor and purity of life. But if joy of spirit fills the heart, the serpent shoots his deadly venom in vain.” –St. Francis

The Teaching of Teachings: Love

The journey forward into God is a journey backward to an original innocence we never fully recover but where a sort of semi-paradise happens when love turns into charity. This is the highest of all loves, which Christ defined as the love of God and the love of neighbor, the total love of God leading to true love of neighbor and the true love of neighbor leading to the love of God.

“Let us love the Lord God with all our heart and all our soul, with all our mind and all our strength and with fortitude and with total understanding, with all of our power, with every effort, every affection, every emotion, every desire, and every wish.” –Rule of 1221, Chapter XXIII

In her 87 years, this formidable woman’s mission to help the poorest of the world was a pounding thirst she tried urgently to quench. With hands gnarled by time and a face weathered by age, Mother Teresa—who founded the Missionaries of Charity in 1950—braved the polluted and overcrowded streets of India and beyond, embracing people whom many feared to touch, advocating for the world’s most forgotten citizens.

A true visionary, this holy woman saw past the wounds of lepers and comforted the sick as they wrestled with death. Simply, no person was beyond her capacity for love and assistance.

She thought herself to be in no better company than when she surrounded herself with the poor. Not only did she align herself with those living on the barren outskirts of society; she made a home there.

Mother to Many 

When she died in September of 1997, the defeated of this world lost their greatest champion. The legacy of her work, however, is still with us. By 1996, 517 missions in more than 100 countries functioned under her supervision. Still, she exhibited humility at every turn.

Case in point: In 1964, Pope Paul VI, moved by her efforts, gave Mother a Lincoln Continental as a gesture of his gratitude. She accepted the car, sold it and used the profits to establish a leper colony in West Bengal.

She sought neither praise nor reward, though she earned both. Unimpressed with her own celebrity, this winner of the Nobel Peace Prize in 1979 was single-minded in her pursuit to help the less fortunate. In their tattered faces, she saw the image of God.

“I see God in every human being,” she once said. “When I wash the leper’s wounds, I feel I am nursing the Lord himself. Is it not a beautiful experience?”

Others have been eager to share her mission. In 1984, the Lay Missionaries of Charity was founded for those inspired by the spirit and generosity of this gracious woman. There are approximately 1,000 members in the organization, each one sharing in her ideal: to feed the hungry, shelter the homeless and tend to the sick.

It was evidence of her influence that volunteers assembled in the first place. Alongside the Lay Missionaries of Charity are several orders and communities that bore her touch, such as the Brother Missionaries of Charity, the Contemplative sisters, brothers and priests.

Perhaps only she could influence such diverse people. Volunteers from different countries and different religions convened to achieve a greater good. People who had no reason to share their lives nevertheless joined hands and walked alongside a holy woman whom they loved.

Mother’s life was a textbook of lessons we’d all be wise to study. In our lives, we should look to her as the model of patience and goodwill. Her ability to see the beauty in each person and the commonalities that bind the human race are gifts that we should attain.

Yet in our modern society, much is judged solely on what the eyes can show us. She—ever the revolutionary—looked at the world and its people with the eyes of her soul. She reminded us, in word and in action, that each of us is part of a whole and that all life is to be honored and protected.

For our nation—indeed for all nations—her lessons are just as timely. World leaders who praised her abundantly while she was alive, and even after her death, need only look to their own actions to see the glaring contradictions.

To be certain, integrity and goodness can still be found in the world today, yet we are living in an era familiar with violence and war. It is an age of distrust, discrimination and diminished understanding.

In her life, the saint from Calcutta showed us a nobler way to look at our neighbors, both nationally and internationally. In her death, it should be our task to put those examples to use. Her tireless love of all people, from every culture, should be the standard by which we live.

A Blessed Woman

Edging just past five feet in height, she was not a physically imposing figure. Yet her arms were long enough to embrace the thousands she saw as her own children.

To this blessed woman, no person in need of help was turned away, and anyone with an able body and a willing heart could join her family of workers. In her eyes, we were all children of God—the crippled, the healthy, the weak and the strong. We are all one body, one family.

In the sores of the lepers, she saw the wounds of Christ; in the hearts of the workers, she saw salvation. To those who felt called to such work, regardless of their nationality, religion or worldview, this “Saint of the Gutters” took them each by the hand and seemed to say, with unwavering hope, “Come with me.”

Pope Francis on Mother Teresa

“Give us, Lord, your grace, in you we place our hope!” Like the Psalmist, how many times, in moments of interior desolation, Mother Teresa also repeated to her Lord: “In you, in you I hope, my God!”

Let us praise this little woman enamored of God, humble messenger of the Gospel and tireless benefactor of humanity. We honor in her one of the most outstanding personalities of our time. Let us accept her message and follow her example.

That is social media in a nutshell. It can rouse political change just as easily as it can broadcast patently ridiculous information. But the power of sites such as Facebook cannot be denied, and they aren’t going away.

There’s the good: Facebook has made establishing or strengthening ties with family and friends easier.

There’s the bad: Facebook, essentially, owns you. According to the Terms of Use (section 2.1), the Web site has “non-exclusive, transferable, sub-licensable, royalty-free, worldwide license to use any content that you post.” Once you infuse your account with data, your identity is less your own.

And the ugly: Cyberbullying has found a powerful platform in social media. According to a 2010 report from the Pew Internet Project, 32 percent of teens have suffered online harassment from peers. And those numbers continue to rise.

Handle with Care

Nowhere was social media used as an advocate for humanity more effectively than when Egyptian-born Wael Ghonim, a web activist and Google employee, organized the 2011 protest in Cairo by reaching out to the city’s youth through Facebook. Deafened by protesters demanding an end to decades of political corruption, President Hosni Mubarak resigned his position on February 11.

Though the country’s future is uncertain, Ghonim’s social media crusade nevertheless galvanized young citizens and assembled a legion of angry, web-savvy freedom fighters. When it was over, Ghonim was asked who should be credited for that historic revolt. His answer? Mark Zuckerberg, CEO of Facebook.

The Game Changer

If you think social media is, in the words of Shakespeare, “an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing,” think again. Oberlo.com offers these statistics.

• There are 3.5 billion social media users worldwide.
• Facebook is still the most popular social media platform.
• 90.4% of Millennials, 77.5% of Generation X, and 48.2% of Baby Boomers are active social media users.

This is a revolution in constant motion: Twitter is quick content for the attention-challenged. Flickr has made photo sharing effortless. Wikipedia is a wildly popular method of obtaining user-generated web content. And Facebook is still the Big Brother of them all. Simply put, we are in the midst of an ever-evolving game changer. Just as the printing press transformed how we saw the world, social media and the handheld devices that make it so portable is transforming how we experience the world.

But has it made the world better?

You Have Too Many Friends

I have a love/hate relationship with social media. I love it because it’s made the world smaller. I hate it for the very same reason. I marvel at Facebook’s influence over our culture. I’m grateful for YouTube, the prolific birthmother of viral videos. And I stand in awe of bloggers who have a looser, hipper audience for their writing.

But what’s the snag? Some experts opine that its expansion is leading to information overload, but that isn’t top priority. Logging off is a powerful though painful defense. Personally, I’m terrified of having more virtual friends than actual ones. For children, I worry about cruel and creative cyberbullies poised for teen character assassination, and sexual predators hiding behind their seemingly harmless online profiles.

And let us not forget the real casualty of social media: privacy. With so much of our lives on display, I hold a vigil by the deathbed of genuine privacy. For the social media-dependent, it doesn’t exist anymore. For the curious, fair warning: Once you’re in the game and social media can be a terrific game you cannot really sub out. For me, there is no hope. As I write about the trappings of social media, I am logged on to Instagram and Twitter.

Pete Cashmore, founder and CEO of Mashable, said it best: “Privacy is dead, and social media holds the smoking gun.”

We can turn to Mary, Our Lady of Sorrows, for consolation in our suffering.

Flipping through a religious calendar, I came upon a list of the Seven Sorrows of Mary. As I mentally pictured Mary’s experiences, I pondered her most blessed and most sorrowful life. I met Mary heart-to-heart: her sorrows and her son’s agony became mine, and the Mother of Sorrows became the mother of my sorrows as well.

Let us enter into the mind and heart of Mary and reflect on the seven major sorrows in her life. Our Sorrowful Mother can teach us much about the sanctity of suffering and be a source of consolation to all who suffer.

The Church celebrates the feast of Our Lady of Sorrows on September 15.

First Sorrow: The Prophecy of Simeon

“And you yourself a sword will pierce” (Lk 2:35).

When Mary’s 40-day period of purification has almost ended, she goes to Jerusalem to fulfill the Mosaic Law and for the required offering to the Lord of every firstborn male. The law of purification does not bind Mary, always a virgin. Nor does Jesus, because of who he is, have to be redeemed. Yet Mary humbly obeys.

After the ceremony, imagine young Mary’s amazement when Simeon takes Jesus from her arms and acknowledges him as the Messiah! Only through divine inspiration can Simeon know this. Simeon blesses them and says to Mary, “And you yourself a sword will pierce” (Lk 2:35).

Mary shudders and holds Jesus close to her breast, as Joseph gently leads her out of the temple. Although Joseph is deeply shaken, his primary concern is for his wife and son. They return to Nazareth in silence, where Mary ponders these things in her heart.

Second Sorrow: The Flight into Egypt

“The angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, ‘Rise, take the child and his mother, flee to Egypt, and stay there until I tell you. Herod is going to search for the child to destroy him'” (Mt 2:13).

Joseph hastily awakens Mary and relates his dream. She feels the sword’s sharpness as Simeon’s prophecy echoes in her heart. There is no time to worry—only time to pack a few essentials—as they prepare to flee to Egypt under cover of darkness.

The lengthy journey across the desert wilderness frightens Mary, but she never voices her fears to Joseph. However, she can’t help but think, Will there be enough food and water? How will we weather the excessive heat? What if the donkey stumbles? What if . . . ? The “what-ifs” could have paralyzed a person of little faith. But Mary continues to trust that God will take care of her little family’s needs.

None of this is recorded, so we can only imagine the hardships that the Holy Family endured while in exile. One thing is certain: nothing can sway Mary’s trust in God. She never questions. She ponders, letting the things she doesn’t understand simply be there in her heart, in complete conformity to the divine plan. Mary is a model of cooperation with grace.

Third Sorrow: Search for the Child in Jerusalem

“After three days they found him in the temple, sitting in the midst of the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. When his parents saw him, they were astonished, and his mother said to him, ‘Son, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been looking for you with great anxiety'” (Lk 2:46, 48).

Terror seizes Mary’s heart when she discovers that her son is missing. On the third day, while walking by the temple, the anxious mother hears the sweet sound of Jesus’ voice. “Joseph, look! There he is among the teachers!” They run to Jesus’ side, and Mary, with mingled joy and sorrow, speaks words of gentle reproach to her son.

Mary and Joseph realize they have a very special son—one who amazes even the teachers in the temple with his intelligence. Sometimes they whisper in Aramaic at night, sharing their innermost thoughts and concerns. Often, young Mary ponders these things in her heart while performing her daily tasks: grinding grain into flour to make bread, milking the goats, and spinning yarn and weaving it into clothing for her family.

Sometimes, in the cool of the evening, she sits on the flat roof of their home, the pain of Simeon’s prophecy and of Jesus’ disappearance merging and lingering—a pain as widespread as the profusion of flowers trickling down the hillsides of Nazareth in that April of Jesus’ 12th year.

Fourth Sorrow: Mary Meets Jesus on His Way to the Cross

“And carrying the cross himself . . .” (Jn 19:17). “A large crowd of people followed Jesus, including many women who mourned and lamented him” (Lk 23:27).

Mary’s life remains hidden—hidden in God. A widow now, she lives an inconspicuous life, pondering and accepting the mystery of her unique role and that of her son. When news of his miracles reaches her at Nazareth, she rejoices. But the disturbing news of the tension mounting in Jerusalem concerning an upstart named Jesus makes her apprehensive. She knows the sword is poised to pierce her heart more deeply. Yet she goes to Jerusalem for the Passover feast, hoping Jesus will be there.

Mary helps prepare the Passover meal. Quickly she dishes out the bitter herbs and vinegar and carries them to the Upper Room. Here, Mary participates in the first Eucharist. She comprehends all too well the full meaning of his words. We can only guess at the sequence of events. Perhaps one of the holy women finds Mary and tells her that Jesus has been arrested. “I must go to him!” she cries.

Mary pushes her way through the shouting, cursing mob. At last, she sees her son carrying his cross. Mary’s heart breaks in unspeakable sorrow at the outrage committed against his precious body. She is powerless to minister to him, except by her presence. Their eyes meet and speak volumes of love in a frozen moment of anguished silence. “Trust, trust,” Jesus’ heart speaks to hers. His unspoken words echo in her hearing heart. With renewed strength, she walks the Way of her son.

_{John Quigley, OFM, explains how the Church came to believe that the Blessed Virgin Mary gave birth to both the human and divine natures of the Christ.}

Fifth Sorrow: Standing at the Foot of the Cross

Standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary of Magdala. When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple there whom he loved, he said to his mother, ‘Woman, behold, your son.’ Then he said to the disciple, ‘Behold, your mother.’ And from that hour the disciple took her into his home” (Jn 19:25–27).

Finally they reach the hill of execution. The cruel soldiers stretch Jesus’ battered body upon the cross and, with heavy hammer blows, drive the sharp spikes into his hands and feet. Mary’s head pounds with each cruel blow. No one hears the silent scream that shatters her broken heart and echoes in the heart of God.

What now takes place is all according to God’s plan. Her son, the Son of God, has to suffer and die. John, the beloved disciple, puts his arm around Mary, steadying her. “My precious child,” she weeps, “heralded at Bethlehem, now suffering an ignominious and painful death!”

And then, through swollen, purple lips, Jesus speaks. Mary strains to hear his words. He looks tenderly upon his mother and, with great effort, says, “He is your son.” He looks at the disciple and emphasizes, “She is your mother.”

Sixth Sorrow: The Crucifixion and Descent from the Cross

After this, Joseph of Arimathea, secretly a disciple of Jesus for fear of the Jews, asked Pilate if he could remove the body of Jesus. And Pilate permitted it. So he came and took his body” (Jn 19:38).

Saying, “It is finished,” Jesus bows his head and dies. Mary remembers his words at the Passover meal: “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which will be shed for you” (Lk 22:20). The dreaded time is now: he precious blood of her son is poured out for all humankind. The covenant is sealed.

Jesus, her son, the Son of God, is dead. In her heart, Mary dies with him. Two broken hearts—one pierced with a spear, one pierced with sorrow—become one: Jesus and Mary, forever united for the whole human family.

Mary’s sorrow is all the greater because of the greatness of her love.

Jesus’ body is taken down from the cross and placed in her arms. Mary embraces her son with a love beyond words, beyond grief itself. For now, it is the grief of a consummate sorrow. She, who had given birth to divinity, now presses the bloodied and battered remains of his humanity close to her sorrowful and shattered heart. “Let it be done according to thy will, Lord,” she prays.

Seventh Sorrow: Assisting at the Burial of Christ

“The women who had come from Galilee with him followed behind, and when they had seen the tomb and the way in which his body was laid in it, they returned and prepared spices and perfumed oils“ (Lk 23:55‚ 56).

The holy women quietly prepare the spices and ointments, and gather the winding sheet and the grave cloth, according to Jewish custom. Mary, the faithful disciple, insists on helping and returns to the tomb with the women. They go about their task of washing the body with great reverence and wrap it in long strips of linen, taking great care to pack the fragrant spices (including the myrrh and aloes Nicodemus had brought) between the cloth and the body, in order to reduce the stench of death.

Mary hesitates before placing the grave cloth over Jesus’ face. Tenderly, she kisses him one last, lingering time. John steps forward to take her hand and lead her to his home. Behind them, they hear the heavy round stone rolled forward to seal the cave. Mary’s pierced heart remains united to the stilled heart of the one they had pierced—the most Sacred Heart that was formed in her immaculate womb. With one languishing wail, she proclaims what others are just now beginning to believe, what she already knew: “My Lord and my God!”

Enjoy this prayer to Mother Mary!

This Oklahoma priest’s September 23 beatification is a testament to his legacy as peacemaker and martyr.

History is being made in Oklahoma City this September 23. At 10 a.m. on that Saturday, thousands will fill the city’s Cox Convention Center to witness and celebrate the beatification of Father Stanley Francis Rother. This is only the second beatification to take place on American soil. Father Rother, the first recognized American martyr, is also the first beatified American-born man. He was martyred in 1981, speaking up for the dignity of peasant farmers in the village of Santiago Atitilán, during Guatemala’s bloody civil war.

That’s a lot of distinction for a farmer from Okarche, a western Oklahoma town with a population of 1,300 people. Yet much of what makes Father Rother’s story stand out is precisely how ordinary he was—and how faithfully he lived his call to the priesthood, often in spite of serious obstacles.

This is a huge moment for the Church in the United States, says Bishop Daniel Mueggenborg, auxiliary bishop for the Archdiocese of Seattle, and a great moment for all Catholic priests, “as one of their own brothers is recognized in this way.” Msgr. Timothy Stein agrees. But he emphasizes that, as the first American diocesan priest “to be raised to the honors of the altar,” it’s of particular significance to him and to the thousands of other diocesan priests in the United States.

Msgr. Stein, the pastor of St. Mary Parish in Altoona, Pennsylvania, never met the Oklahoma martyr. Yet as he explains, “Like all diocesan priests, Father Stanley Rother found holiness in the midst of the people he was called to serve, at first among the parishes he was assigned to in Oklahoma, and then in his diocese’s mission in Guatemala. He sought nothing more than to be one with the people of God.

“At a time when many are wondering, Can anything good come out of a local church, out of the diocesan priesthood?, the heroic life and death of Father Stanley Rother, a shepherd who refused to abandon his flock at a time of great peril, shows that holiness is possible for those called to live the life of a diocesan priest,” Msgr. Stein continues. “Without the support of a religious community, without an approved Rule of Life, without a singular charism or a distinctive spirituality—a diocesan priest can be a holy man. He can become a saint.”

A Farmer from Okarche

Born in a farmhouse in the middle of an Oklahoma dust storm during the Great Depression, Stanley Francis Rother was listed in his high school yearbook as president of the Future Farmers of America. But the farm boy from Okarche decided to plant a different kind of harvest. At the end of his senior year, Stanley surprised family and friends with the announcement that he’d be leaving for San Antonio to attend St. John’s Seminary.

Stanley struggled with academics in the seminary, in particular with Latin. He failed the first year of theology and was sent home by the rector, who suggested that Stanley consider a different vocation. But back in Oklahoma City, Stanley requested another chance from Oklahoma’s Bishop Victor Reed—and the supportive bishop agreed, finding him a spot at Mount St. Mary’s Seminary in Emmitsburg, Maryland.

“Stanley was hardworking, dedicated, faithful,” remembers Father Tom Connery, a classmate from the Diocese of Albany. Father Connery remembers going to the Grotto of Our Lady of Lourdes with Stanley to “prepare the place, working together. Stan had a great love and devotion for the Virgin Mary,” and the Grotto was a special place of prayer for him.

Connery credits Father Rother with inspiring his own “missionary impulse.” Ordained on the same day for different dioceses, both friends went on to serve the Church in mission territory, although in opposite directions—Father Rother to Guatemala and Father Connery to Alaska. “We were north and south, two different points, but with our missions of service to God’s people the same. He was a kindred spirit that helped me find my way.”

On May 25, 1963, at the age of 28, Stanley was ordained for the then-Diocese of Oklahoma City and Tulsa. He served the first five years of his priestly ministry without much notice in various Oklahoma assignments. But everything changed when he answered the call to serve at the Oklahoma mission in Guatemala. The farmer who loved the land and recognized God in all of creation found his heart’s vocation as a priest to the Tz’utujil Mayan people.

Oklahoma Mission

How a 46-year-old priest from a small German farming community in Oklahoma came to live and die in a remote, ancient Guatemalan village is a story full of wonder and God’s providence. Pope John XXIII requested in the early 1960s that North American dioceses and religious communities send missionaries to South and Central America, and the Church in Oklahoma responded.

In 1964, the then-Diocese of Oklahoma City and Tulsa took over the care of the church of St. James the Apostle (Santiago Apóstol), the oldest parish in the Diocese of Sololá, Guatemala, dating back to the 16th century. No resident priest had served the indigenous community of Santiago Apóstol for almost a century.

He had the heart of a shepherd. The life and witness of Father Rother is a gift to the Church in America.

From the onset, that first Oklahoma missionary team understood that the Tz’utujil are an agricultural people who retain much of their ancient Mayan culture and pride. When he arrived at Santiago Atitilán in 1968, Father Rother instantly fell in love with the volatile and stunning land of volcanoes and earthquakes—but above all, with its people. His Tz’utujil Indian parishioners called him “Padre Apla’s,” which translates as “Francis” or “Francisco” in their native language.

Over his 13 years of service to the Oklahoma mission, Father Rother helped develop a farmers’ co-op, a nutrition center, a school, a hospital clinic, and the first Catholic radio station in the area, which was used for catechesis. But perhaps most importantly, whether fixing a tractor or farming the land, the farmer priest was never afraid to dig in and get his own hands dirty—a trait that was deeply loved by his Tz’utujil parishioners.

Although he did not institute the project, Father Rother was also a critical driving force in developing Tz’utujil as a written language, which led to translations of the liturgy of the Mass and the Lectionary, with the New Testament in Tz’utujil being published after his death. And the same young man who flunked because he could not master Latin became, by the grace of God, the missionary pastor who not only learned Spanish, but also became fluent in his parishioners’ native tongue, Tz’utujil.

As a fellow missionary serving across the lake from Santiago Apóstol, Maryknoll Sister Bernice Kita remembers mostly Father Rother’s gift of presence—like the time he made a point of taking a motor launch across the lake to attend her installation as administrator of the parish. Or his regular prison visits to a parishioner who had gotten drunk and driven Father Stan’s car into the lake, killing a car passenger.

“Stan took pity on this man,” remembers Sister Bernice. He went “out of his way to offer him the help he didn’t deserve, and the mercy that he needed, from the priest who was harmed by his actions.”

She also remembers attending a Mass 40 days after Father Rother’s murder where Sololá’s Bishop Angélico Melotto said he believed one day the Oklahoma missionary would be recognized and canonized as a martyr.

‘If It Is My Destiny . . .’

Once Guatemala’s civil war found its way to the peaceful villages surrounding beautiful Lake Atitlán, many people, including Father Rother’s own catechists, began to disappear regularly. Father Rother’s response was to show his people the way of love and peace with his life.

“His martyrdom was simply a confirmation of who he was,” says Bishop Mueggenborg. “No one is declared a martyr just because of how they died. Rather, they had to live their life in such a way that it was crowned with martyrdom. Father Rother did that—he lived his life as a self-offering to God in love of his brothers and sisters. He did it through daily work in the mission, teaching agriculture to simple farmers, educating the children, protecting the youth from forced conscription into the Guatemala military, and through assisting grieving families in burying their dead whom no one would claim. He lived his life in such a way that it was that life which led to his martyrdom.”

In a letter dated September 1980 to the bishops of Tulsa and Oklahoma City, Father Rother described the political and anti-Church climate in Guatemala: “The reality is that we are in danger. But we don’t know when or what form the government will use to further repress the Church. . . . Given the situation, I am not ready to leave here just yet. There is a chance that the Govt. will back off. If I get a direct threat or am told to leave, then I will go. But if it is my destiny that I should give my life here, then so be it. . . . I don’t want to desert these people, and that is what will be said, even after all these years. There is still a lot of good that can be done under the circumstances.”

In his final Christmas letter to Oklahoma Catholics, Father Rother once again concluded: “The shepherd cannot run at the first sign of danger. Pray for us that we may be a sign of the love of Christ for our people, that our presence among them will fortify them to endure these sufferings in preparation for the coming of the Kingdom.”

A month later, and six months before his death, Father Rother and his associate pastor left Guatemala under threat of death after witnessing the abduction of a parish catechist. However, he returned to his beloved Guatemala in time to celebrate Holy Week in April of 1981, ignoring the pleas of those who urged him to consider his own safety.

“Just before he returned to Guatemala for the last time, he told me how much he desired to come back,” recalled Archbishop Emeritus Eusebius J. Beltran in a 30th-anniversary message to the community of Cerro de Oro, one of the mission’s satellite churches near Santiago Atitlán. “He knew the dangers that existed here at that time and was greatly concerned about the safety and security of the people. Despite these threats and danger, he returned and resumed his great priestly ministry to you. . . . It is very clear that Padre Apla’s died for you and for the faith,” continued Archbishop Beltran, who was serving as bishop of Tulsa in 1981 when Father Rother was killed.

On July 12, 1981, in a statement read in all the nation’s parishes, the Guatemalan bishops denounced “a carefully studied plan” by the government “to intimidate the Church and silence its prophetic voice.”

On July 28, 1981, at 1:30 a.m., three Spanish-speaking Ladino (nonindigenous) men snuck into the rectory, beating Father Rother and shooting him twice in the head. His body was sent back to Oklahoma for burial, but his heart was entombed under an altar in Santiago Atitlán, by request of his parishioners. When Franz Rother was told about his son’s death, he responded: “We are real proud of him. He felt his people needed him and he went back.”

The Oklahoma priest was one of 13 priests—and the first American priest—slain during Guatemala’s 36-year war, a tragedy that claimed an estimated 140,000 lives. No one has ever been prosecuted for his killing.

“He had the heart of a shepherd. The life and witness of Father Rother is a gift to the Church in America, especially in the way he lived his priesthood: selflessly, generously, heroically,” says Oklahoma City Archbishop Paul S. Coakley, a fellow graduate of Mount St. Mary’s Seminary. “He has been an inspiration to me since my seminary days when I first learned of his death. He was referenced as a hero by all of us!

“Father Rother was a servant after the manner of Christ,” Archbishop Coakley explains. “The Church, and priests in particular, need the witness of men like this servant of God who serves as an icon of Jesus the good shepherd.”

The Path to Canonization

Father Rother’s name was given to Pope John Paul II on February 6, 1996 (on his second visit to Guatemala) as one of 78 people killed in Guatemala’s guerrilla war and believed to be martyrs for the faith. His cause was officially opened by the Archdiocese of Oklahoma City in 2007 and was completed with additional testimonies in July 2010, making him a Servant of God. Later that year, the Congregation for Saints’ Causes declared him Venerable.

The cause had begun in the diocese, but the Guatemalan bishops’ conference agreed that the testimonies already collected be transferred to the Archdiocese of Oklahoma City. In 2009, the bishops of Guatemala published Testigos Fieles del Evangelio, summarizing the lives of 63 people who gave their lives for their faith between 1976 and 1985. Father Stanley Rother was included in that book.

A panel at the Vatican reviewed the circumstances of his death and declared him a martyr for the faith; the bishop of Rome agreed on December 2, 2016. Because of that, no miracle was needed for him to be declared Blessed on September 23, 2017. That means his feast can be observed locally (United States and Guatemala) but not worldwide. If a Blessed belonged to a religious order or congregation, his or her feast can be observed by that group. Usually, beatifications now occur locally; canonizations are normally celebrated at the Vatican.

In connection with Blessed Stanley Rother, if a miracle is accepted by separate panels of medical doctors, theologians, and cardinals—and by the bishop of Rome—then he can be declared a saint, and his feast can be celebrated worldwide.

This world-famous actor and musician has a driving force: his Catholic faith.

He’s known to millions for his music, acting, and now as host of a nationally syndicated daytime variety-chat television show simply called Harry. St. Anthony Messenger interviewed the star this past February at the Four Seasons Hotel in Beverly Hills, California. Joseph “Harry” Fowler Connick Jr. is named for his father, nicknamed Harry, but who was named for St. Joseph. Connick Jr. speaks with a soft accent and a conversational style.

Connick, winner of Grammy and Emmy awards, has sold over 28 million albums. A child prodigy, when he was nine years old he performed a Beethoven prelude. As an adult he’s been on television, in movies, and on Broadway. He’s a husband to Jill and the father of three daughters, Georgia, Sarah Kate, and Charlotte.

Many know that Connick is Catholic, but they might not know that he wasn’t baptized until he was 14 years old. Harry Sr. is still a devout Catholic and his mother, Anita, was Jewish. They decided that they would let Connick and his older sister, Suzanna, now a psychiatrist and internist in the army, choose their own faith. Subsequently they both became Catholic.

Formed by Jesuits

When Connick was 13 his mother died of ovarian cancer. Her death was, understandably, the most difficult moment in his life. He recalls that his extended family on his father’s side and the Jesuits at his high school were a great help to him.

Once Connick decided to embrace Catholicism, Father Nick Schiro, SJ, accompanied the young teen through the RCIA program and baptized him. New Orleans Archbishop Philip Hannon confirmed him. Connick recalls: “It was a very proud day. I was going to Mass every day at that point. I was holding on to everything I could to get me through those hard times.”

Bob Fecas taught freshman theology. His unorthodox way of teaching impressed Connick, who calls it an “OK to ask anything class.” Fecas taught students the value of thinking things through, searching, and asking questions. Besides Fathers McGinn and Schiro, he liked the young “cool priest,” Father Eddie Gross, who played the guitar and sang “La Bamba” all the time. Their friendship continues to this day.

With all this Jesuit influence, it’s easy to see why Harry Connick Jr.’s favorite saint is St. Ignatius of Loyola. Connick says that he learned two lofty ideals from St. Ignatius that he tries to live every day: to let your light shine in the world by helping people and to do the small things well.

Harry

For years people asked Connick to consider a television show, but the idea of “parking in one place and doing the same thing every day” didn’t appeal to him.

Then he began working closely with two brothers, Justin and Eric Strangel. They are television producers who also wrote comedy for The Late Show with David Letterman. They brainstormed and came up with the idea of a syndicated show that, as Connick described it, “would be my show, with my band, a show that would be aspirational and inspirational, to have great guests who weren’t necessarily celebrities. I wanted to find people who had amazing stories to tell that could make the world a better place.”

Harry is produced in New York. The show premiered in 2016 and starts its second season this month. The format consists of one segment called “Leading Ladies” in honor of the amazing women in his life, from his grandmother to his daughters. Women from across the country and from all walks of life come on the show to tell their transforming stories.

Another segment is called “I Got This,” where Connick shows up at someone’s house, maybe that of a single mom or somebody who is working two jobs. “I told the producers, I don’t want to know who I’m meeting, but I want you to find people who need help. Don’t want them to know I’m coming and I don’t want to know where I’m going. It’s completely unscripted. Then I take over her job for one day, whether it’s running a nail salon or teaching a square-dancing class, and send her off to get a break for the day. I tell her, ‘I got this.'”

Another segment might feature kids who dance or play instruments, like 14-year-old guitarist Brandon Niederauer (School of Rock: The Musical). How Brandon and the band’s bass player Jonathan Du Bose Jr. started playing off each other is amazing to watch.

Connick and his band have been together for many years. They understand each other so well that they can respond musically at any moment. They know and hope that children might watch it. He says this awareness is evident by the many subtle messages in the show, for example, “Kids might think, ‘Maybe if I work at something tactile, that requires a lot of practice, effort, and discipline, maybe I can accomplish something like these musicians, too.'”

Connick continues: “I find that wanting the good for people on the sshow gives me an incredible feeling and makes me approach my show with humility and respect. The people on the show are divorced, widows, they have children in the hospital, they can’t pay their rent, maybe their houses burned down.

“They are all there, and we are them, too. I feel like I have found something in the show that allows me to try to do important things without mentioning a word.”

Connick’s favorite moment on the show thus far was the day when Connick walked on the set to be greeted by Al Roker of TODAY who announced, “I’m hosting Harry today! ” He remembers: “They started bringing out people I know, including my wife and two of my daughters; my third daughter was away at college. But then she walked out, and I lost it. I couldn’t believe she came for that; it was a very big deal for me.”

The Little Things

When Connick was a child living in New Orleans, music was everywhere. His parents loved music and played records all the time, from popular to classic. Connick’s response to music was deeply emotional. “I wanted to be a part of that world because I knew I had the potential to learn and I had talent.”

When you combine a passion for something with the accessibility of it and have your family’s support, it makes for a perfect storm for somebody like me. When you add the educational aspect to the emotional, combining the craft and the technique, one feeds off the other.”

Today Connick is a man almost driven to get the small things right. “When I am composing music,” he says, “I write out every single note—so when you watch my show and you hear my band play, they are reading music.”

It’s amazing how much more fulfilled I am—how much more pleasantly the days go by.

It takes “hours and hours and hours,” he says. “That’s me. I wrote a hundred pieces of music, from three to 10 minutes long, before we started the show so we’d have enough to get going—notes for the trumpet, the saxophone, trombone, bass part, drum part, guitar, every single note. Doing this keeps me grounded and focused on doing everything well.”

Connick’s philosophy of music for young people who may not have access to arts programs that have been cut or underfunded in recent years is encouraging, focusing on the small things. “The good news is that there is a lot of access to information and music education outside of school. You can pick up your phone and watch YouTube videos and other online sources for music education and learning.

“Even if programs are cut, the fundamental values are the same. The self-discipline is the same.” Work and practice are what it’s all about. “I tell young people, make sure you learn as much as you can about your craft on your own. Go to the library. Pick up your phone. Do the research, listen to the recordings, transcribe the solos, do what you need to do on your instrument. This is how you become a musician.”

Man on a Journey

Connick met his wife, Jill, then a model, in Los Angeles in 1990. For Connick, it was love at first sight. He recalls, “She was from Texas, she had a firm handshake, she drank a beer, and she seemed like a fun person. That was it. Twenty-seven years later, here we are.” Connick says he and Jill take their marriage very seriously. In the four years they knew each other before their wedding in New Orleans’ St. Louis Cathedral, they became good friends. They cooked together, went to movies, talked politics.

“We are truly interested in each other,” he explains. “I respect her immensely. She is half of me; we are two halves that make a whole. I really buy into that idea. It is the foundation upon which our marriage is based.”

His philosophy as a parent is simple: “It wasn’t always about telling my daughters, ‘Oh, look how pretty you look today’—it was never about that. It was about telling them ‘you’re smart’ or ‘what an interesting perspective you have.’ That’s how my mother and father raised my sister and me, and I think it helps instill confidence in children, for their sake and for that of others. “

Connick isn’t comfortable talking about his family’s religion publicly, but he will tell you that his three daughters were baptized and raised Catholic. Today, like Harry and Jill, they are on a journey. As he explains it, “We’re trying to understand more deeply the things that we think are important.”

Doubting Thomas?

Connick knows that people have been interested in him as a Catholic since he began performing, and the question about his faith is brought up in interviews all the time. Yet he admits, “I’ve struggled as a Catholic and for years I’ve had trouble admitting this. I don’t think I ever intended to say I was a Catholic in public—not because I am ashamed of it; it’s something I am proud of.

“But I am a musician. I am an entertainer. People send me prayers and come up to me to thank me for being a good Catholic, and I started to feel: ‘Wait a minute! Wait a minute! I’m trying my best here but as a guy who was raised with a Jewish mother and a Catholic father! I have a lot of stuff to figure out!'”

Connick chatted recently with Cardinal Timothy Dolan of New York about his faith. “Your Eminence, I’m trying to figure this out. I miss Mass, I question things, my dad calls me Thomas all the time—’How you doing, Thomas?’—because my dad is very, very strong in his faith and I have these doubts.”

Cardinal Dolan replied, says Connick, “Have you ever thought about the people that Jesus hung out with? Then look at Paul; he was a tough son of a gun. Those first Christians weren’t exactly perfect, either.”

Connick says: “We all want to know what our purpose is outside the specifics of our vocation, like, what are we doing here? I want to be a good husband and a good father, but is there a bigger picture here than just trying to be the best entertainer I can be? Maybe my particular purpose isn’t to be the perfect Catholic but to do the best I can.”

All In

Right now it’s an exciting time filled with some new creative challenges for Harry Connick Jr., and he likes it that way. “I like walking a tightrope, which is why I practice really hard so that when it comes to the show it’s completely unrehearsed and spontaneous.

“I need to be able to ask someone questions in front of an audience that’s going out to millions of people and make them feel good,” he says, almost matter-of-factly.

“I have to self-edit in real time and ask compelling questions that will evoke the best answers, while keeping an ear on the music.” But it’s a thrill: “I love letting people shine. Whatever I am doing, creativity means there are a lot of different cylinders going at the same time.”

It comes back to the twin principles he learned from St. Ignatius of Loyola: let your light shine and do the little things well. “What matters is being present in the here and now,” he says.

With time and experience, Connick learned to live in the present. “I was rushing from one thing to the next interview or event.” Now he’s more intentional, looking for even a small connection with the people who come to him. “It’s amazing how much more fulfilled I am, and how much more pleasantly the days go by. It’s a quest to be better at this all the time, and it’s a great place to be.”