Ya gotta love chicago

It's not as good as previous years, but at least they dyed the fountain. And at the airport the have agent is going around with a basket of candy (the good kind of trick or treat candy).

HB to me

I'm traveling this weekend: heading to a retreat house in Princeton NJ to do simultaneous translation for our Pauline Cooperators Conference. The principal speaker is Father Antonio da Silva, Postulator General for the Pauline Family. That means he is the one in charge of researching and presenting the "causes" for canonization for members we thought were especially remarkable for holiness of life. He's in the States right now looking into the unusual cure of a little boy in Philadelphia. Was it a miracle obtained through the intercession of Blessed James Alberione? That's a question the Vatican will ultimately answer, presuming the process makes it that far. Here's the Grandma's take on it. 

It's more than a travel day for me, though. (Start singing the Birthday song.)
Yep, that's me. I don't look like it here, but I've always loved having a birthday on such a fun day. And I share the day with two other Daughters of St. Paul: Happy Birthday, Sr. Mary Rita! Happy Birthday, Sr. Sean Marie David!

Any other Halloween babies out there to greet?

The Screwtape Play

We had a real treat last night, courtesy of a friend here in Chicago: a live performance of "The Screwtape Letters." The play was a wonderful adaptation of C. S. Lewis' clever work
--with only two actors: Screwtape, the senior devil and mentor-in-temptation, and his assistant, a  kind of gremlin, Toadpipe. Basically,  it was a monologue, since Toadpipe had no actual lines (just a variety of chattering sounds and screeches). The play opened earlier this month, and has been extended through January 3--very good news for Chicago. If you're in the Windy City, do try to attend.

Our experience did have a bit of the hellish on the side, I have to admit. First of all, we had a great deal of trouble buying tickets. Sr. Helena called weeks ago, and was told that tickets could not be purchased by phone. Since the ubiquitous Ticketmaster was not actually selling the tickets, either, we were resigned to purchasing them, as we had been told on the phone, at the box office, about an hour before the show. Then on Sunday I noticed that, as subscribers to the Chicago Tribune, we were qualified for a special buy-one-get-one-half-off discount. From Ticketmaster. So Sr. Helena tried again. An hour later, she was speaking once more with the same operator who had insisted that tickets could not be purchased by phone. Not only was our chosen date (tonight, Thursday being our "community day") sold out, there were only four tickets left for Wednesday! (And, according to our knowledge at the time, the show was to close on Nov. 1!) We took what we could get, and (yes) purchased the tickets by phone.

Last night, then, we boarded the Brown Line L train and headed north. We found the Mercury theater,  a throng crowded in its tiny foyer. Sr. Helena scooted into the box office-cum-bar and came back with four tickets. Oddly, they were marked "FL OBS." We were in Row 1. As we walked to the front of the theater, the temperature kept dropping.  (We would keep our coats and scarves on throughout the performance.) When we got to our row, we found out what FL OBS meant: "floor obstructed." The stage had been built out over our laps. (I don't know how Sr Irene, who is six feet tall, managed to fit her long legs in the bit of space she was allowed) Then the play opened, with a thick fog pouring out from the corner of the stage nearest us. This theatrical fog had a certain scent to it--I suppose to evoke the sense of burning? At any rate, I kept my scarf over my nose and mouth all night! Then I set my neck at an awkward angle to watch the play.

Despite all the discomfort, I really enjoyed the performance. It was a great way for Lewis' insights to provoke reflection: in fact, as we left the theater, a tall man walked alongside us saying (with that typically Protestant expression that we Catholics ought to take hold of), "I feel convicted!" Lewis' message had struck home for him.

As if it hadn't struck home for me, too, I found today's first reading from Ephesians 6 only renewing my reflections. As Election Day draws closer, I keep envisioning our country approaching a crossroads. Both paths before us lead to darkness; one is a slow descent, the other precipitous. And I'm scared. St. Paul tells me, "Draw your strength from the Lord... Our battle is not against flesh and blood, but against principalities and powers, against the ruler of the age..." All we have to do is "put on the armor of God" (St. Paul tells us this twice) and stand firm. Despite all the clever deceptions the enemy of humankind has devised, Jesus has already won the victory.

Front and Back

Front, back; first, last. Jesus in today's Gospel is telling us to expect God to turn things upside down. And in the first reading, that is kind of what Paul is doing. The passage from Ephesians is one of the so-called "household codes" common in the Roman Empire. But since Paul is saying what a Christian household looks like, he has some definite alterations to make. If yesterday had not been a feast day, we would have heard the first part of this passage, the infamous (in our day), "wives, be submissive to your husbands." Few people in our day go beyond those few words. If they did, they would begin to realize that Paul is actually introducing something quite new:  he is telling everyone in the Christian community to cede place mutually. He spends a lot more words telling husbands how they are to respect their wives in this new Christian economy: not as "lords" over them (the norm in that day), but as Christ the Lord, in the way that he loved the Church. 

Today, Paul moves into other family relations. He starts with the children: what their "duties in the Lord" are. It is interesting that he again starts with the "lesser" party in the equation: earlier, he spoke of wives before husbands; now he speaks to children before addressing the parental units, and next he will address slaves, putting them ahead of the masters.  In each case, those who come "first" in the Roman order of things are put last, and those who are last, dependent and vulnerable, are first.

One Week and counting

It's exactly one week until Election Day, and there are numerous prayer initiatives underway: the novena proposed by the U.S. Catholic Bishops; a rosary novena on Facebook, and today I learned of a couple of churches that will have all-day adoration of the Blessed Sacrament on Nov. 4.
What is going on in your area to support the many critical needs of our nation through prayer?

Here is a prayer to St. Paul that can be offered for the same intention:

St. Paul, teacher of the nations, lovingly watch over this nation and its people. Your heart expanded so as to welcome and enfold all peoples in the loving embrace of peace.
Now, from heaven, may the charity of Christ urge you to enlighten everyone with the light of the Gospel, and to establish the kingdom of love.
Inspire vocations, sustain those working for the Gospel, render all hearts docile to the Divine Master.
May this nation ever more find in Christ the Way and the Truth and the Life. May its light shine before the world and may its people always seek the kingdom of God and his justice.
Holy Apostle Paul, enlighten, comfort and bless us all. Amen.

Who you looking at?

Yesterday I experienced two different, but similar, encounters on my way to and from Mass. Walking toward the rehearsal room for choir practice, I noticed an old man sitting on the slight curb along the sidewalk and the rectory fence. He was "new" to that spot; usually there is a grizzled middle-aged man there, sometimes a weary black man. Either way, there is generally a man there with an outstretched hand. The very fact primed me to expect a request for money, and in anticipation, I found myself feeling very much like a deer in the headlights: unable to respond to the actual request by the person who was actually before me. Granted, his words were a common enough prelude to a request for immediate financial assistance, but I was unable to hear anything but that. Not that I can do much of anything financial, but people deserve a hearing.
After Mass, I would have taken "a different way" if I could have, but the old man was no longer there. Instead, I had hardly passed the spot, when I crossed paths with a tottering and filthy younger man with a desperate face. He stumbled down the sidewalk, but seeing me, called out loudly, "Ma'am! Ma'am!" I knew which "Ma'am" he meant, of course. "I'm HUNGRY!" And he gestured toward his open mouth. Back came the sensation of being caught in more than one set of headlights. I forgot all about the granola bar I had tucked into the pocket of my backpack. I just wanted to get away from the danger of being assailed by so many needs.
Today's Gospel brings me right back to those experiences, because here I see Jesus being confronted by a needy person. The woman in today's Gospel wasn't asking Jesus for anything. Perhaps she had been reduced to T.S. Eliot's "quiet desperation." Instead, Jesus looked and saw her, not her need. And he didn't see her as the others there saw her--a cripple, a demon-possessed unfortunate. He saw a "daughter of Abraham." And he called to her, "Woman, you are set free of your infirmity." The very next sentence says that he then "laid hands upon her." Surely, that means that Jesus practically bounded to her side, because if he had had to "call to her" she must have been far enough away that she couldn't have heard Jesus in his "inside voice." And she was probably too crippled to hobble over to him very quickly. No, I see Jesus recognizing this woman as she was, and restoring her external dignity as fast as he could. Carryl Houselander came to mind. The British police used to call this chain-smoking daily communicant to the station house when they had a particularly violent and criminally insane prisoner. She was able to speak to them, calm them, restore their dignity.
That's the kind of vision I need Jesus to share with me. To be able to see people with his own eyes, as persons, as the dwelling-place of God and not as categories or problems.

Fan Mail

The archdiocesan paper has been running a series of articles I'm writing on St. Paul. And recently I got my first "fan mail" for the series:
"Just a note to say thank you for the very fine article you wrote about St. Paul. The icon of St. Paul preaching is most expressive. I love it. I am going to save the article and picture. Sincerely..."
Imagine, this was all written by hand, and came in an envelope with a stamp on it! Real mail! God bless the lady who took the time to express her appreciation. The icon she referred to is by a Daughter of St. Paul, I believe. It was only reproduced in black and white in the paper; you get to see it in living color.

If you have to go to the doctor...

... Choose one with a scenic view.

Inner life

The first reading is a wonderful prayer St. Paul offers for us--and invites us to pray. It helped me recognize, with its reference to the "inner self," that I have been mighty superficial in that regard. I was also helped to this recognition by the fact that I am currently reading a wonderful book on Ignatian spirituality, sent to me by my friend at Loyola Press(eternally grateful, you know; keep 'em coming!). The book is a collection of essays, for the most part: extraordinarily well written pieces that I had not come across before. I'm grateful to the editor for putting them together in one volume!
Reading through, a few pages at a time, I was reminded that the essence of Ignatian spirituality--finding God in all things--is a fruit of mindfulness, and one of the things Ignatius invites us to be "mindful" of are the inner "movements" that flit through our heart as the day goes on. I had gotten to be much more focused on outward things--so distracted in looking for these that I lost the awareness that God, who lives in the "interior castle" of my being, is communicating from that throne all the time. His comuniques take a form that would seem to be just a mood or a reaction; it takes discernment to recognize which really are moods and which are messages! So that book is really coming to me at a good moment.
Ignatius' message and insight could do so much for us today--it is so easy to be drawn, led, "directed" by our immediate feelings, our untested values. Ignatius gives us a way to "test all things" and make the choice for the good.

Blessed Feast Day

Today is the feast of Blessed Timothy Giaccardo (for our Pauline Family--it's not on the Universal calendar). Born Giuseppe Giaccardo, he met our Founder during the brief time (less than a year!) that Alberione, newly ordained, was assigned to a parish. It was the little parish of Narzole, Italy, where "Joseph" was a fervent little altar boy. (The image of Giaccardo in priestly vestments is from a new side altar in that same parish Church.) The Giaccardo family could never afford to educate their son beyond the village school, so Alberione sponsored his tuition in the minor seminary--and the bishop assigned Alberione himself to be the spiritual director for the candidates and seminarians. Giaccardo was the first priest of the Pauline Family, even before the Founder himself. The Founder was already ordained, but was technically a diocesan priest; Giaccardo was ordained as a member of the Society of St. Paul--even though, technically speaking, the Society of St. Paul did not even exist as a recognized religious congregation! (The saintly bishop Re managed to overlook more than one canonical issue with regard to our Founder, whom he knew to be led by the Holy Spirit.)
There's a wonderful "coincidence" between today's feast and the first Mass reading assigned to this day in Ordinary Time. The emblem of the Pauline Family, in use since Giaccardo's day, features this Latin motto: "Ut innotescant per ecclesiam sapientia Dei. " It's from St. Paul to the Ephesians. And you'll hear it at Mass today: "That through the Church, the manifold wisdom of God might be made known." The very mission of the Pauline Family!

A Day with Dante

Expectant longing. Vigilant waiting.
Is this Advent or Dante’s “Purgatorio”?

Discover a place that is nothing less than a rendezvous of heaven and earth—just like Advent…and life itself.

Advent Women's Retreat
Pauline Books, Chicago
Saturday, December 6
9:00-3:00

Director: Sr. Margaret Joseph Obrovac, fsp

Pre-registration required; $25 fee includes lunch. Info and registration: 312 346 4228

About the director:
A Daughter of St. Paul for over thirty years, Sr. Margaret Joseph did her undergraduate studies in philosophy and theology at St. John’s University, NYC, and is completing studies in eschatology and millenarianism. Studies in Rome and at the Universita per Stranieri, Perugia, Italy, earned her a diploma in Italian language and culture. Sr. Margaret currently does translation and editorial work for Pauline Books & Media

You can tell that we're coming toward the end of the liturgical year when you start hearing those Gospel passages about servants awaiting the Master's return. Today, Jesus specifies that the Master is returning from a wedding. And what awaits the vigilant servants who are awake and alert enough to open the door? A wedding feast!
As I read this passage, an antiphon came to mind; it is from our Christmas novena, which is based on a really old Benedictine tradition, so it is liturgical in origin. The antiphon goes "Behold, the King will come, the Lord of all the earth, and he will remove from us the yoke of our captivity." The servants only have to wait a while, holding out for the "one thing necessary."

From time to time I highlight the newsletter written for the Franciscans by Fr. Bob Sprott. Here it goes again! This time, with so many people asking questions or raising challenges about Catholics in political office, the article is on excommunication.

I just noticed something about Luke's Gospel. It features a woman and a man who both try to get Jesus to intervene in a matter involving a sibling. In both cases, Jesus begs off. Athough he is the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, he is not into triangling. More significantly, of course, he uses the occasion to teach the petitioners what is amiss in their own presuppositions.
The woman was Martha (yes, I am still meditating on Luke 10!). She was "burdened with much serving," but Jesus told her that "only one thing is needed," and Mary was already focused on it. In today's Gospel, we hear a man complaining (whining?) to Jesus that his brother won't share the inheritance. And Jesus gives them both a lesson about greed. In effect, he is repeating his message to Martha: "one thing only is needed"--"a man may be rich, but his possessions do not guarantee him life." It's exactly this Gospel lesson that many of the financial movers and shakers in our country need to hear. Some of those people have dedicated their lives to amassing wealth, making money an end in itself. In effect, they are subordinating their own lives, their whole being, to money; sacrificing themselves (and all the millions who lost so much in the stock market collapse) to Mammon!
So how can we make this Gospel heard?

Lectionary Laughs

Every once in a while, the day's readings provide abundant opportunities for misreading. I've written about some of those gaffes before; today the lector gave me one more to add to my list. Based on the reading from the 2nd letter of Paul to Timothy, St. Paul must have hungry there in prison, because he asked Timothy to pick up a few things for him. In addition to the cloak he left in Troas, he wanted parchments and papaya rolls.
The reading was chosen for today's feast of St. Luke because Paul mentions, poignantly, "only Luke is with me." (Maybe Luke ate all the good papaya rolls.)

The Other St. Ignatius

Readers of this blog have, through the years, found many a reference to St. Ignatius Loyola, for whom I have a rather unbounded admiration. Equally unbounded is my admiration for today's St. Ignatius, the early (I mean early!) martyr and bishop of Antioch--at the time, the third largest city in the Roman Empire. The ink was barely dry on the pages of the New Testament when Ignatius was condemned to death as a leader of the illegal religious group known as Christians. It wasn't enough for Rome to dispatch him in Antioch: this "pestilential sect" was known to have spread across the Empire. Ignatius, a revered overseer (the literal meaning of the word for bishop) would be made an example and a warning. So he was led in chains across half the Roman world, knowing that at the end of his journey he would be thrown to ravenous beasts in an arena filled with screaming and bloodthirsty spectators.
Following the example of the often-imprisoned St. Paul, Ignatius wrote letters all the way to Rome. Fabulous letters. Seven of them have come down to us: to the Philippians, Magnesians, Trallians, Romans...even the Philadelphians! These letters show us the caliber of the man about to face death for Christ. He was more than a brave and wise "overseer" of the Church of Antioch: he was a mystic whose whole focus was on being made one with Christ--even if it was "the teeth of wild beasts" that would "grind [him], the wheat of Christ, into pure bread." He begged the Romans not to show him "untimely charity" by attempting to have him released: he could practically hear the Spirit within him like murmuring water, saying "Come to the Father."

Good Read

In preparing for my talk on the Liturgy of the Hours, I picked up a book that had somehow come my way, and boy, am I glad! It's a rather scholarly treatment of Augustine's approach to the interpretation of the psalms, something that has been the subject of mocking insinuation more than of serious scholarly research. I am running out of those nice little Post-It tabs that I am so devoted to in marking lines I want to copy down or incorporate in one or another presentations. While contemporary scripture scholars focus on the historical-critical approach, seeking the "literal" meaning of the books of the Bible, Augustine makes use of allegory, imagination and above all, beauty, to move the hearts of his hearers. The ancient bishop was not writing for peer review: he was preparing homilies!
I recommend this book especially to priests and deacons, and any who pray the Liturgy of the Hours on a consistent basis. In some pages, it will be a hard slog (as Augustine himself can be), but I am confident you will find it well worth the effort!

You will see that I am adding an Amazon link for this title; this book isn't in our database (yet), so until our online bookstore is ready, I'll try to provide links (and the Daughters will get a tiny "rebound" from Amazon on any purchases!).

Martha, Martha

Would you believe that Jesus is still finding ways to send me back to Luke 10?!

Hurricane Follow-up

Hurricane Ike's impact didn't end when the winds died down. Sr. Margaret Joseph and Sr. Kathleen Thomas in San Antonio (where our book center is in "suspended animation") wrote in our community newsletter what they were doing for the evacuees from the affected areas. I asked them if I could share the stories with you...
From Sr. Margaret's pen:

Ten thousand people temporarily relocated to San Antonio because of Ike. Everyone on staff acknowledged how well organized FEMA and other services were this time around and how much more calm people were on the whole. The archdiocese of Galveston-Houston reported that although half of its 160 parish facilities sustained some damage, it was manageable.

When we realized on Sunday, Sept. 14, that thousands from the Texas Coast were pouring into San Antonio following the devastation from Hurricane Ike, we knew they would have not only material and physical needs, but spiritual and emotional ones as well. Inspired by the FSPs who had ministered to those who had fled Katrina and Rita three years ago, we decided to follow suit. I signed up with the volunteer corps first, since Sr. Kathleen had an exhibit the next weekend to prepare for.


Monday, after several phone calls to various offices of the APC, I learned that no archdiocesan plan was afoot, and that was “getting mixed signals” from Church leadership about committing its resources for the evacuees’ spiritual care.
I asked for a Wednesday meeting with Steve Saldaño, president of Catholic Charities, and the archdiocesan director of evangelization to discuss what we hoped to accomplish and I offered to go to Kelly AFB to get the lay of the land in preparation for that meeting. Protestant chaplains had repeatedly begged me to ask for a priest to “provide sacramental care,” so this became a priority and a key to the chaplains’ collaboration with us. At the meeting we compared notes and with the directors of formation, evangelization, and social concerns, we formulated a simple action plan.

The shelter was a massive warehouse, about 300 yards long, and was divided into four sections. “A” consisted of a processing station, dining area, Red Cross office, drug dispensary, prayer room, and communications center where people could call anywhere in the world for free; “B” and “C” were filled with FEMA cots, where as many as 5,000 evacuees bunked; in “D” the city’s VA set up a makeshift hospital and treated 190 acute and non-acute patients at its peak. A retired priest came each Sunday to celebrate Mass first at the hospital, then in the prayer room.

It was soon clear that most of the people were poor, marginally educated, and in many cases, tough. Most were not Catholic, but were open to our presence and our willingness to serve them. Countless people wanted to tell their stories, confide their worries and anxieties, and be hugged or prayed with. We moved about freely among them, talking with them and letting them pick out something to read.

Since our Pauline Book Center is still closed and we had very few titles we could use for this purpose, we needed sources for materials. We began by raiding our own community library for easy-to-read spirituality books, biographies and novels. People couldn’t get enough. Not only did they accept what we had, but as the days passed, they began to search us out. Thanks to PBM’s order fulfillment department (thank you, Sr. Patricia!) and the few remaining dollars in the Books of Comfort Fund, we were able to give out several copies of Prayers for Surviving Depression, Tender Mercies, Letters of St. Paul, his novena, some Spanish titles (we actually had more than we needed) and coloring books…with crayons, too.

The greatest demand was for Bibles and rosaries. Yes, rosaries. Sure, many wanted to just wear one. But we did what we could to lead them beyond that. We distributed at least 125 sets that included a plastic rosary, PBM’s How To Pray the Rosary and, in many cases, Basic Prayers. Cash donations to cover all this are trickling in. In addition, Catholic Book Publishing donated 40 medium Bibles, and OSV sent hundreds of prayer books for adults and children. People were no more put off by the word “Catholic” on the covers than they were by us. In our hands even the city paper looked Catholic!

The “Chaplain’s Table” in Section A, as well as the one in the hospital, stocked whatever we wanted to leave there: back issues of Time magazine, copies of the archdiocesan newspaper, “tracts” from OSV donated by the archdiocese, and the bulletin from the nearest parish, with a note we attached to each with the pastor’s approval, inviting people to join the Sunday celebration. Some did go, also to get canned goods and gas money when it was available.

The challenge was occupying the children. Our connections with the Salesian Sisters and volunteers of the Missionary Catechists of Divine Providence provided the kids with evenings of soccer, relay races, games, coloring, and songs—some with a religious twist. Prizes came compliments of Pauline Books. Not only the parents, but the police and fire fighters too, couldn’t have been more collaborative and grateful.
The final week, it was only Galveston residents who were left—about 400 or 500 people. The evening before their departure by bus, we held a send-off prayer for anyone who wanted to attend, centered around the Rosary, “the Gospel prayer.” Originally intended as a simple presentation two days later, we quickly had to re-bill it when we heard that Kelly would be emptied out in the morning. Eight adults and four teens came for the 20-minute reflection and group sharing, then stayed to learn how to pray the first Joyful Mystery.

Only one participant was Catholic: Nancy, an ex-con, who had done time in federal prison for drug-dealing. With the help of Sr. Maureen, a former police officer, she had enrolled in a re-entry program and worked to get her own apartment, where she lived for three days before Ike struck. Despondently she told our little gathering, that she “lost everything.” An older woman in the group was firm: “But you still have your ambitions, and that’s what’ll carry you through. God will see to that. Look at Job—lost everything. But God gave him more than he ever had.” Nancy replied, “See, I needed to hear someone tell me that. I have my faith, I know God is with me, but I need people too. I’ll hang onto that.”

Oct. 1, the first Wednesday of the month, they left. Our own evening prayer consisted of entrusting to St. Joseph all the people we could remember by name or story, as well as all those who would continue to be touched by what they received through us. We introduce some of them to you:

· David, who went to Confession and Mass for the first time in 40 years.

· Lita and Randy, who don’t want to live together anymore, but have two pre-school daughters to care for;

· Rita, who instructed me to “sit there and don’t say anything” while she prayed for my ministry among the evacuees;

· Mary, already severely traumatized by early abuse and disoriented because of the evacuation, but comforted by the hospital staff and our visit; she recognized us on our next visit and reached out to give us another smile and hug, assuring us that she was reading the pamphlet we left her;

· Marie and William, married 25 years and members of the Holiness of God Church in Galveston, who were eager to learn the Rosary and have us pray a decade with them;

· Orlando, Starr, and Sienna, their baby brother and two supportive parents, who attended every play session we held;

· Kenneth, surprised by God’s care for him: we offered him a book on dealing with difficult people just after his altercation with another evacuee;

· Jeff, a former Air Force pilot, who was amazed and amused that he was back at the base from which he had been deployed to Viet Nam 35 years ago;

· Agnes, a volunteer nurse from India (now living in Naperville, IL), who used to frequent our center in Mumbai close to her home and who knows several Indian Paulines by name;

· Those who committed either capital or petty crimes or who suffered because of them, including a man who lost his life there at Kelly;

· The literally hundreds of military, medical and Red Cross personnel, police officers, and fire fighters, who came from San Antonio and from all over the country— North Carolina, Michigan, California, Alabama, Alaska, and Illinois, for starters—to assist evacuees with compassion, humor, respect, and persevering dedication. They earned the respect and thanks of everyone there.

Wedding invitation

I'm still thinking about yesterday's Gospel--you remember it, right? The king who sent out wedding invitations, only to have 100% no-shows on the great day? Why people thought their farm or business had a higher priority than a royal wedding banquet is beyond me (I always give food-related invitations a very high priority!), but then... it is so much easier to give practical priority to the things had hand rather than something outside of my area of control. Maybe that is what was going on.
I find that I need to focus more, though, on the invitation itself. Because we have all received that wedding invitation. It is the invitation to let God's love and praise be the dominant note in our daily life. (Imagine how effective our evangelizing efforts would be if believers typically looked and acted like people who were about to go to a wedding feast!)
Probably this is catching my attention in a particular way because I am preparing my Oct. 25 talk on how to pray the Liturgy of the Hours. The Church understands this as the prayer of the Bride, the Church, to her Head and Bridegroom, Christ. So every day as we open this book, we are unsealing a wedding invitation.
R.S.V.P.