The Truth about St. Therese Revealed

"Sentimental hogwash!"
That's what some Catholics still think about St. Thérèse of Lisieux.

They're put off by her sweet reputation and by sugary devotions to her.

Author Henri Gheon was once among those put off by Thérèse’s popularity. Then he discovered how many good Catholics, at home with simple devotions, were soon freed from the pretty-pretties that led them on.

He found the real Thérèse beneath the sugar roses and puffy clouds, behind the platitudes and pet-names that took all the salt out of her heroic story.

 Scores of books have been written about Thérèse, but none have taken an unflinching look at her life, sufferings, and sacrifices…

…until now.

The Truth About Thérèse is the first book aimed at those persons, Catholic or not, who resist her, put off by all those roses and crudely painted plastic statues—and even by her virtues.

Read the remarkable pages of this book to discover the real Thérèse of Lisieux, an intense soul living a life of heroic grandeur amidst dull and all-too-worldly associates—a soul driven by a burning love of God even as she wrestled privately with great physical and emotional pain.

This book will show you what lay beyond her smile, why she was canonized, and why Thérèse is the saint most fitted for our day—a model for those of us whom, whether we like it or not, God has called to hidden lives of quiet drama, desire, and holy sacrifice.

The Truth about Thérèseby Henri Gheon
168 pgs ppbk $18.95

Order today with 
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"I Believe in Love penetrates to the heart of a saint who, in the words of Pope Pius XII, has 'rediscovered the heart of the Gospels, the heart of Christ, and, through love and humility, the Christ of the heart.' "Joseph Pearce "I heartily endorse this book. It is the best application of St. Thérèse's teaching for individuals seeking to live it daily."  Fr. Michael Scanlan, TOR Franciscan University of Steubenville "Whoever reads this book attentively and prayerfully will grow in the love of God." Fr. Kenneth Baker, S.J. Homiletic and Pastoral Review "With joy, I welcome the publication of I Believe in Love. May this 'personal retreat' based on the teachings of the little nun of Lisieux be for those who use it an occasion of grace not only to enlighten their minds, but to elevate their souls to approach the sublime destiny that the 'little way' shows to all." Bishop Fabian Bruskewitz "Sophia Institute Press has done us all a great service in bringing this work back into print." Thomas Howard

Don’t miss this opportunity to own -- and read -- two of the most spiritually enriching books about
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July 11 - Today is the feast of St. Benedict

SAINT BENEDICT, Abbot (c. 480-547)

St. Benedict, blessed by grace and in name, was born of a noble Italian family about 480. When a boy he was sent to Rome, and there placed in the public schools. Scared by the licentiousness of the Roman youth, he fled to the desert mountains of Subiaco, and was directed by the Holy Spirit into a cave, deep, craggy, and almost inaccessible. He lived there for three years, unknown to any one save the holy monk Romanus, who clothed him with the monastic habit and brought him food. But the fame of his sanctity soon gathered disciples round him. The rigor of his rule, however, drew on him the hatred of some of the monks, and one of them mixed poison with the abbot's drink; but when the Saint made the sign of the cross on the poisoned bowl, it broke and fell in pieces to the ground.

After he had built twelve monasteries at Subiaco, he removed to Monte Casino, where he founded an abbey in which he wrote his rule and lived until death. By prayer he did all things: wrought miracles, saw visions, and prophesied. A peasant, whose boy had just died, ran in anguish to St. Benedict, crying out, "Give me back my son!" The monks joined the poor man in his entreaties; but the Saint replied, "Such miracles are not for us to work, but for the blessed apostles. Why will you lay upon me a burden which my weakness cannot bear? " Moved at length by compassion he knelt down and, prostrating himself upon the body of the child, prayed earnestly. Then rising, he cried out, "Behold not, O Lord, my sins, but the faith of this man, who desires the life of his son, and restore to the body that soul which you have taken away." Hardly had he spoken when the child's body began to tremble, and taking it by the hand he restored it alive to its father.

Six days before his death he ordered his grave to be opened, and fell ill of a fever. On the sixth day he requested to be borne into the chapel, and, having received the body and blood of Christ, with hands uplifted, and leaning on one of his disciples, he calmly expired in prayer on the 21st of March, 547.

Lives of the Saints, by Alban Butler, Benziger Bros. ed. [1894]

Pope Paul VI proclaimed Benedict patron of Europe (Feast in Europe) on the 24th of October, 1964 (Apostolic Letter: Pacis nuntius).
http://mobile.evangelizo.org/saintDetails.php?id=9916

The Story of Michael

Background

       What follows is a copy of a letter that was written by a young Marine to his mother while he was hospitalized after being wounded on a Korean battlefield in 1950. It came into the hands of a Navy Chaplain, who read the letter before 5,000 Marines at a San Diego Naval Base in 1951.

       The Navy Chaplain had talked to the boy, to the boy's mother and to the Sergeant in charge of the patrol. This Navy Chaplain, Father Walter Muldy, would always assure anyone who asked that this is a true story.

       We present the letter and let it stand on its own merits.

Dear Mom,

       I wouldn't dare write this letter to any-one but you because no one else would believe it. Maybe even you will find it hard (to believe) but I have got to tell some-body.

       First off, I am in a hospital. Now don't worry, you hear me, don't worry. I was wounded but I am okay you understand. Okay. The doctor says that I will be up and around in a month.

       But that is not what I want to tell you.

       Remember when I joined the Marines last year; remember when I left, how you told me to say a prayer to St. Michael every day. You really didn't have to tell me that. Ever since I can remember you always told me to pray to St. Michael the Archangel. You even named me after him. Well I always have.

       When I got to Korea, I prayed even harder.

       Remember the prayer that you taught me?

       "Michael, Michael of the morning, fresh corp of Heaven adorning," you know the rest of it. Well I said it every day. Sometimes when I was marching or some-times resting. But always before I went to sleep. I even got some of the other fellas to say it.

       Well, one day I was with an advance detail way up over the front lines. We were scouting for the Commies. I was plodding along in the bitter cold, my breath was like cigar smoke.

       I thought I knew every guy in the patrol, when alongside of me comes another Marine I never met before. He was bigger than any other Marine I'd ever seen. He must have been 6'4" and built in proportion. It gave me a feeling of security to have such a body near.

       Anyway, there we were trudging along. The rest of the patrol spread out. Just to start a conversation I said, "Cold ain't it." And then I laughed. Here I was with a good chance of getting killed any minute and I am talking about the weather.

       My companion seemed to understand. I heard him laugh softly.

       I looked at him, "I have never seen you before, I thought I knew every man in the outfit."

       "I just joined at the last minute", he replied. "The name is Michael."

       "Is that so," I said surprised. "That is my name too." "I know," he said and then went on, "Michael, Michael of the morning ..."

       I was too amazed to say anything for a minute. How did he know my name, and a prayer that you had taught me? Then I smiled to myself, every guy in the outfit knew about me. Hadn't I taught the prayer to anybody who would listen. Why now and then, they even referred to me as St. Michael.

       Neither of us spoke for a time and then he broke the silence. "We are going to have some trouble up ahead."

       He must have been in fine physical shape or he was breathing so lightly I couldn't see his breath. Mine poured out in great clouds. There was no smile on his face now. Trouble ahead, I thought to myself, well with the Commies all around us, that is no great revelation.

       Snow began to fall in great thick globs. In a brief moment the whole countryside was blotted out. And I was marching in a white fog of wet sticky particles. My companion disappeared.

       "Michael," I shouted in sudden alarm.

       I felt his hand on my arm, his voice was rich and strong, "This will stop shortly."

       His prophecy proved to be correct. In a few minutes the snow stopped as abruptly as it had begun. The sun was a hard shining disc.

       I looked back for the rest of the patrol, there was no one in sight. We lost them in that heavy fall of snow. I looked ahead as we came over a little rise.

       Mom, my heart stopped. There were seven of them. Seven Commies in their padded pants and jackets and their funny hats. Only there wasn't anything funny about them now. Seven rifles were aimed at us.

       "Down Michael," I screamed and hit the frozen earth.

       I heard those rifles fire almost as one. I heard the bullets. There was Michael still standing.

       Mom, those guys couldn't have missed, not at that range. I expected to see him literally blown to bits.

       But there he stood, making no effort to fire himself. He was paralyzed with fear. It happens sometimes, Mom, even to the bravest. He was like a bird fascinated by a snake.

       At least, that was what I thought then. I jumped up to pull him down and that was when I got mine. I felt a sudden flame in my chest. I often wondered what it felt like to be hit, now I know.

       I remember feeling strong arms about me, arms that laid me ever so gently on a pillow of snow. I opened my eyes, for one last look. I was dying. Maybe I was even dead, I remember thinking well, this is not so bad.

       Maybe I was looking into the sun. Maybe I was in shock. But it seemed I saw Michael standing erect again; only this time his face was shining with a terrible splendor.

       As I say, maybe it was the sun in my eyes, but he seemed to change as I watched him. He grew bigger, his arms stretched out wide, maybe it was the snow falling again, but there was a brightness around him like the wings of an angel. In his hand was a sword. A sword that flashed with a million lights.

       Well, that is the last thing I remember until the rest of the fellas came up and found me. I do not know how much time had passed. Now and then I had but a moment's rest from the pain and fever. I remember telling them of the enemy just ahead.

       "Where is Michael?" I asked.

       I saw them look at one another. "Where's who?" asked one.

       "Michael, Michael that big Marine I was walking with just before the snow squall hit us."

       "Kid," said the sergeant, "you weren't walking with anyone. I had my eyes on you the whole time. You were getting too far out. I was just going to call you in when you disappeared in the snow."

       He looked at me curiously. "How did you do it kid?"

       "How'd I do what?" I asked half angry despite my wound. "This marine named Michael and I were just ..."

       "Son," said the sergeant kindly, "I picked this outfit myself and there just ain't another Michael in it. You are the only Mike in it."

       He paused for a minute, "Just how did you do it kid? We heard shots. There hasn't been a shot fired from your rifle. And there isn't a bit of lead in them seven bodies over the hill there."

       I didn't say anything, what could I say. I could only look open-mouthed with amazement.

       It was then the sergeant spoke again, "Kid," he said gently, "every one of those seven Commies was killed by a sword stroke."

       That is all I can tell you Mom. As I say, it may have been the sun in my eyes, it may have been the cold or the pain. But that is what happened.

Love,

Michael

Today's Gospel Reading - Sunday, July 8, 2012 with Reflection

1^ST READING - Ezekiel 2:2-5

Psalm 123:1-2, 2, 3-4

R: Our eyes are fixed on the Lord, pleading for his mercy.

1 To you I lift up my eyes who are enthroned in heaven — 2as the eyes of servants are on the hands of their masters. (R) As the eyes of a maid are on the hands of her mistress, so are our eyes on the Lord, our God, till he have pity on us. (R) 3 Have pity on us, O Lord, have pity on us, for we are more than sated with contempt; 4 our souls are more than sated with the mockery of the arrogant, with the contempt of the proud. (R)

2^nd READING - 2 Corinthians 12:7-10

GOSPEL ACCLAMATION

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me for he sent me to bring glad tidings to the poor.

Mark 6:1-6

1 Jesus departed from there and came to his native place, accompanied by his disciples. 2 When the sabbath came he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astonished. They said, “Where did this man get all this? What kind of wisdom has been given him? What mighty deeds are wrought by his hands! 3 Is he not the carpenter, the son of Mary, and the brother of James and John and Judas and Simon? And are not his sisters here with us?” And they took offense at him. 4Jesus said to them, “A prophet is not without honor except in his native place and among his own kin and in his own house.” 5 So he was not able to perform any mighty deed there, apart from curing a few sick people by laying his hands on them. 6 He was amazed at their lack of faith.

SABBATH

THE FAMILY OF FAITH

Do people easily “box” you in a certain category? They always see you as this type of person. For them, you will never change. It happens to all of us, one way or another. And it is usually heightened when we go through a conversion. Things in our life change but relationships tend to remain the same. Often those closest to us, such as our family members, from whom we expect love and support, are the very ones who misunderstand us. This is what Jesus encountered on one of His homecoming visits.

You would think that His town-mates would welcome Jesus with open arms and hearts as He comes back to His own town. Yet people are quick to put Him in a box as “the son of Mary, the carpenter.” He is more than meets the eye. The people are obviously amazed. How can a carpenter speak such words of wisdom? How is He able to perform such marvelous deeds? Consequently, no miracle was done in their place.

We are informed that Jesus’ “brothers and sisters” are with Him. These terms in that particular culture refer to cousins, nephews and other extended family members. In some countries, a similar language is used even if they are closely related as a brother or sister as we use the terms today. Many people use this passage to prove that Mary and Joseph had other children. This is not the case. Mary is the ever virgin mother of Jesus while Joseph is His foster father, according to God’s design.

We need to understand members of our family who may not have experienced the conversion in faith that we have. In the beginning they may look at us as if we are strangers. But don’t worry. The psalm helps us in this regard — to fix our eyes on the Lord and His mercy. He is our help and refuge in the storms that pass our life. Let us pray for the members of our family, especially those most remote from the Lord. He always listens to our prayers.Fr. Brian Steele, MGL

REFLECTION QUESTIONS: Do you experience being “boxed” in a certain category? How do you feel? What can you do to get out of that “box”?

Thank You, Lord, for drawing me into Your family of faith. Amen.

St. Gregory Grassi and Companions, pray for us.

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A Catholic Where's Waldo

Where's Waldo? That was easy. Now, in the picture below, find the sad young man who sought riches instead of God, and is weighed down and imprisoned by his wealth. Having trouble? Click on the picture and then move your cursor over the new image to magnify it. That will reveal the rich details drawn there by the beloved Catholic author and mystic, Caryll Houselander. Called The Best Way of Life, this picture is just one among a dozen highly-detailed ones in My Path to Heaven, Fr. Geoffrey Bliss's delightful introduction to our Catholic Faith. A mini-retreat tailored to children ages 9 to 12, My Path to Heaven shows them the kinds of life-choices we all have to make and prepares them to make the right ones. Along the way, it teaches young kids the basics of our Faith, explaining man's fall, the Nativity, God's will, Christ’s Passion, Angels, the Trinity, Heaven and Hell, the Incarnation, and the Sacraments. Plus, from the text and images, young ones learn about: • Free will, and how it's a gift and a great responsibility • God’s overwhelming mercy and patience • God's generosity: why he deserves all our love • Heaven: why now is the time to begin seeking it • The promise of victory to those who try to be holy • How to avoid the Devil's snares • The three ways to make good choices • And much more! Although its similarity to Where's Waldoprovides children many delights, this is no childish book. Unlike so many religious books that talk down to children or trivialize our Faith, My Path to Heaven is:  SeriousIt acknowledges and speaks to the deep seriousness that attentive parents know lies in the hearts of even the very youngest children. PracticalIt emphasizes proper devotion and right action, not feelings. Substantial It considers central points of the faith and addresses the issues that face every Christian, even the youngest. PrayerfulIt speaks reverently of holy things, inspiring children to develop reverence toward Jesus, Mary, and the Saints. InstructionalChapters conclude with questions to help children review what they've learned, and to help them choose to strive for holiness. Scriptural Chapters include numerous Scripture references. and Captivating Pictures keep the attention of the most restless children, as they discover in them exciting details about the faith. Fr. Bliss and Caryll Houselander based My Path to Heaven on the traditional St. Ignatius Retreat (trusted by Catholics for centuries), adapting it particularly for children. The result? A clear, simple, thoughtful presentation of the Faith ideal for forming children in holiness.  Still not convinced? Read the following chapter and click on the accompanying image to see its details. Couldn't your child benefit from such a book? Click on the picture and then move your cursor over the new image to magnify it. My Path to Heaven by Geoffrey Bliss, S.J. with pictures by Caryll Houselander 8.5 x 11 inches $14.95 ppbk 96 pgs Order online now or call 1-800-888-9344 www.SophiaInstitute.com Plus, as summer reading for your children, consider some of these other fine books: Order online now or call 1-800-888-9344 www.SophiaInstitute.com Sophia Institute Press Box 5284, Manchester, NH 03108 We always welcome contributions to our non-profit apostolate. If you would prefer not to use the PayPal button below, you can add a contribution  directly to your shopping cart at our on-line store.   Sophia Institute Press is the publishing division of

Prayer for Healing by Fr. Fernando Suarez

LORD, look upon me with eyes of mercy. May YOUR healing SPIRIT rest upon me. It is through YOUR power that I was created. Since YOU created me from nothing, YOU can certainly recreate me. Fill me with the healing power of YOUR SPIRIT. May YOUR life giving powers flow into every cell of my body and into the depth of my soul. Mend what is broken. Cast out anything that should not be within me. Rebuild my brokenness. Restore my strength for service in YOUR Kingdom. Touch my soul with YOUR compassion for others. Touch my heart with YOUR courage and infinite love for all. Touch my mind with YOUR wisdom, that my mouth may always proclaim YOUR praise. Teach me to reach out to YOU in my need, and help me to lead others to YOU by example. Most loving Heart of JESUS, bring me health in mind, in body, in spirit that I may serve YOU with all my strength. Amen

Today's Gospel Reading - July 1, 2012 with Reflection

1^ST READING - Wisdom 1:13-15; 2:23-24

Psalm 30:2, 4, 5-6, 11, 12, 13

R: I will praise you, Lord, for you have rescued me.

1 [2] I will extol you, O Lord, for you drew me clear and did not let my enemies rejoice over me. 3 [4] O Lord, you brought me up from the nether world; you preserved me from among those going down into the pit. (R) 4 [5]Sing praise to the Lord, you his faithful ones, and give thanks to his holy name. 5 [6] For his anger lasts but a moment; a lifetime, his good will. At nightfall, weeping enters in, but with the dawn, rejoicing. (R) 10 [11] Hear, O Lord, and have pity on me; O Lord, be my helper.” 11 [12]You changed my mourning into dancing; 12 [13] O Lord, my God, forever will I give you thanks. (R)

2^ND READING - 2 Corinthians 8:7, 9, 13-15

GOSPEL ACCLAMATION

Our Savior Jesus Christ destroyed death and brought life to light through the Gospel.

Mark 5:21-43

21 When Jesus had crossed again in the boat to the other side, a large crowd gathered around him, and he stayed close to the sea. 22 One of the synagogue officials, named Jairus, came forward. Seeing him he fell at his feet 23 and pleaded earnestly with him, saying, “My daughter is at the point of death. Please, come lay your hands on her that she may get well and live.” 24 He went off with him, and a large crowd followed him and pressed upon him. 25 There was a woman afflicted with hemorrhages for twelve years. 26 She had suffered greatly at the hands of many doctors and had spent all that she had. Yet she was not helped but only grew worse. 27 She had heard about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak. 28 She said, “If I but touch his clothes, I shall be cured.” 29Immediately her flow of blood dried up. She felt in her body that she was healed of her affliction. 30 Jesus, aware at once that power had gone out from him, turned around in the crowd and asked, “Who has touched my clothes?” 31 But his disciples said to Jesus, “You see how the crowd is pressing upon you, and yet you ask, ‘Who touched me?’” 32 And he looked around to see who had done it. 33 The woman, realizing what had happened to her, approached in fear and trembling. She fell down before Jesus and told him the whole truth. 34 He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has saved you. Go in peace and be cured of your affliction.” 35 While he was still speaking, people from the synagogue official’s house arrived and said, “Your daughter has died; why trouble the teacher any longer?” 36 Disregarding the message that was reported, Jesus said to the synagogue official, “Do not be afraid; just have faith.” 37 He did not allow anyone to accompany him inside except Peter, James, and John, the brother of James. 38 When they arrived at the house of the synagogue official, he caught sight of a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly. 39 So he went in and said to them, “Why this commotion and weeping? The child is not dead but asleep.” 40 And they ridiculed him. Then he put them all out. He took along the child’s father and mother and those who were with him and entered the room where the child was. 41 He took the child by the hand and said to her, “Talitha koum,” which means, “Little girl, I say to you, arise!” 42 The girl, a child of twelve, arose immediately and walked around. At that they were utterly astounded. 43 He gave strict orders that no one should know this and said that she should be given something to eat.

SABBATH

HUMILITY IS POWER I’m not sure about the veracity of this story but I share it nonetheless for the lesson it gives. It was said that the son of Bill Gates, the world’s richest man, dined in a restaurant and gave the waiter a gratuitous $100 tip. Bill Gates went to the same restaurant the next time and gave the same waiter a $10 tip. The waiter told Bill Gates of the tip his son gave and Bill Gates replied, “Well, what can I do? He is the son of a billionaire. I, however, am a son of a farmer.” What is the moral of the story? Bill Gates may be the richest man in the world but his feet remain solidly planted on the ground. He never forgot his roots. His riches never got into his head. Jairus was a synagogue official. He was a well-respected man. He had authority and power. He must have always been in control — always over and above every situation. But not over the condition of his daughter who is near death. He heard of Jesus of Nazareth, the lowly son of a carpenter. He came to Him, “fell at his feet and made this earnest appeal: ‘My daughter is critically ill. Please come and lay your hands on her so that she may get well and live.’” Imagine the humility the official had to summon to accept that no, he is not in control, that his power and authority are limited after all. Jesus rewarded that humility with the cure of raising back his daughter to life. Humility attracts the attention of God. Arrogance and pride repulse Him. Pride was the first sin of the first man and woman. Pride, the temptation “to be like God” apart from God, was the first sin that God condemned. Today’s Gospel is a beautiful reminder for all of us. Positions of power are never meant to be used to overpower others, to lord over. The Christian proposal is quite the opposite. Positions of power are meant to empower the other, especially the weak and the vulnerable.Fr. Joel Jason REFLECTION QUESTION: Are you in any position of power or responsibility? Do your subordinates feel empowered by your authority? Lord Jesus, You came to serve, not to be served. Make my heart like unto Thine. Amen.

Blessed Junipero Serra, pray for us.


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