Asia and the Americas have had more interaction through the centuries than we realize.

An ordinary man engages the circumstances of daily life, seeking to draw closer to the Mystery who gives meaning to everything.

Here’s a work of digital art by JJStudios: a breath of cool air for your mind on these warm buggy July evenings.
Saint Benedict’s “flight to the desert” was a radical response to a grace which he hardly understood at the beginning, but which began to be realized by his fidelity to the prompting of the Holy Spirit and the guidance from brothers in Christ to whom he was entrusted along the way.
The column is below. As you see, also, I did not neglect the JJStudios virtual workshop. I have rendered (above) a visual “interpretation” of Saint Benedict in his later years, when he was Abbot of the Monte Cassino. I also have placed today’s (very rich) proper prayers in colorful settings. Perhaps these efforts remotely approach something like “beauty” in the widest and most expansive analogical sense of the term.😉
Nevertheless, let me share the fruits of my own primary and professional labors, in the medium of words from my monthly column (which tells a new story every month from December 2013 to the present):
Today marks the second anniversary of my mother’s death. We pray for her, entrusting her to the goodness and mercy of God. May the Lord Jesus give her eternal life.
I know that “in death, life is not ended, but changed.” My parents are nearer to me than I realize, yet with my eyes of this world I can’t see them, and my ears can’t hear them. I miss them in these days of the mysterious journey of my own life.
Time is so fragile. I can’t see the new steps that lie before me. Sometimes I wish I could talk to my parents, to ask them how to grow old, how to let go, how to become simple. I move forward with a sense of obscurity, but also with hope. May the One who is Infinite Love embrace us all in his mercy.
Today is the feast of the great Saint Irenaeus, Bishop and Doctor of the Church from the late second century. His response to the gnostic heresies of the time resulted in more than a polemic. It articulated a profound early theology of the Trinity, the creation of the world by God, and the reality of the incarnation, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, the Word made flesh.
Here is a text of Saint Irenaeus that I would like to share for today’s feast:
“Created things, in their great number and diversity, fit beautifully and harmoniously into the creation as a whole. And yet, when viewed individually, they appear discordant and opposed to each other, just as the sound of the lute makes a single harmonious melody out of many and opposite notes by means of the intervals between them. The lover of truth must not be deceived, therefore, by the interval between the different notes, nor imagine that this note was the work of one artist and author, and that note due to another… He must not forget that one and the same Artist was responsible for the wisdom, justice, goodness, and munificence of the whole work. And those who listen to the melody ought to praise and glorify the Artist, and admire the tension of some notes, appreciate the relaxation in others, enjoy the moderation of those between the two extremes… Recalling that some things are symbols, they will consider what it is that each thing points to and what causes it. But they will never alter the rule, nor stray from the Artist, nor abandon faith in the one God who made all things, nor blaspheme our Creator. When someone fails to find the cause of all that he is investigating, he should recall that man is infinitely inferior to God. Man, you are not uncreated, and you have not existed from eternity with God, as His own Word has done. No, by His overflowing goodness you received the beginning of your existence, and have gradually learned from the Word the dispositions of the God who made you.”“Do to others whatever you would have them do to you. This is the law and the prophets” (Matthew 7:12).
Here we have quite a succinct statement from Jesus regarding how we should treat one another. We know from other statements (see e.g. Matthew 22:36-40) that Jesus preaches the intrinsic and inseparable relationship between the love of God (“the greatest and the first commandment”) and the love of neighbor as one’s self (the “second” commandment, which is “like” the first). Later, in His final teaching to His disciples, Jesus reveals the profundity of this integration: “I give you a new commandment: love one another. As I have loved you, so you also should love one another. This is how all will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:34-35).
We are challenged to get up every morning and go forth and really love our neighbors, to actually care about the people who are given to us within the fabric of daily life with an attention and affection that corresponds to how we regard ourselves. This is much harder than we imagine it to be. Still, most of us try to fool ourselves into thinking we’re “pretty good” at it. But we’re not.
The good news is that Jesus has loved us first. His love empowers us to grow in love for one another, if we remember Him, if we ask Him for His mercy, if we live from His love, trusting in His love.
Some important anniversaries are approaching in the coming weeks and over the course of the Summer. I begin by saying “Happy 27th Wedding Anniversary” to my beloved wife, Eileen Janaro!
Eh… It’s not so bad. A small thing. The whole world is burdened and heavy-laden with so many different kinds of suffering in body and in spirit. We can offer our small pains in union with Christ’s Heart, and help one another in ways beyond anything we know. We can also stand as mysterious instruments of Christ’s saving love, remembering Him and crying out to Him on behalf of those who do not understand their suffering, those who are at war within themselves, those who inflict pain on themselves and others, those who are desperate and discouraged and in darkness. We all know something of what it’s like to be in that kind of pain because we are all sinners.
May the infinite mercy of God transform every kind of human anguish into prayer, into a cry that recognizes itself (by His grace) as an expression of our total need for Him. In this recognition we discover everything else—our own need for healing and forgiveness, our need for reconciliation, our need to make peace with our brothers and sisters and look upon them with compassion.
Dear Dad, after four years I still miss you. May the Lord receive you into His glorious embrace. Help me to be strong and loving to my own family and all those entrusted to me. #FathersDay
Mary, our Merciful Mother. Where would we be without her?
When all else is plunged into darkness, when life is confusing and overwhelming, when we don’t know what to hold onto, there remains this Mother’s love, this Heart that draws close to us and gives us maternal tenderness even when we don’t know it: when all we hear is our own cries and all we feel is our own agony.
A mother’s care is not always appreciated or even noticed by those who benefit from it, but it changes their experience, and hopefully they can look back years later and see how a mother’s tenderness carried them through the perils (as well as the joys) of growing up. The women who gave birth to us (or adopted us with the openness of maternal commitment) have been essential to us, and they have loved us even if they themselves are flawed people—even if they may also have harmed us in some ways. There are always people who can welcome, care for, and make a difference to those who are wounded; many of these people are also women who are dedicated doctors, nurses, healthcare workers, physical therapists, caregivers, social workers, psychologists, counselors, teachers, or other professionals whose work is centered on attention to the human person. In principle (and increasingly in practice) the whole world of human achievement is open to women. Perhaps, in time, women in society may help shape ideals of achievement and success in ways that are more personalistic and communitarian, more patient and collaborative, more sustainable, less belligerent, more kind
Women are the great protagonists of hospitality, builders of environments where healing and works of mercy flourish. And now that we have reached the moment in history when women’s dignity is being recognized in its fullness, and as women rightly take up positions in every place in society, we all can have a great hope for the future: that women will bring their special “maternal” magnanimity, tenacity, and tenderness everywhere, so that this gigantic, technologically explosive, conflicted, alienating world might be “humanized” in new ways. Women will be leaders in building a civilization of love that places the gift of the dignity of the human person at the center of social life.
This is a hope we must stir up even now, even in these difficult times of tumultuous change. We are living in the midst of a baffling, turbulent period, taken up into the ambivalent emergence of a new global epoch full of the exponential increase of human power, bringing raw new opportunities and unimaginable dangers. We need the strength of women, if the world is not to perish. The great women of our time have already begun a work that—if it is to take shape at all—may take many generations and endure many setbacks: the work of building a civilization of love.
The Blessed Virgin Mary is always working, and she works with her maternal solicitude for the realization of the whole human vocation, which is that we become brothers and sisters of her Son. We are all her children. I have no hesitation in speaking “universally” here, because Mary is the mother of each and every one of us. She nurtures, fosters, encourages, and accompanies each one of us “in the Spirit”—in the beginning, growth, and fulfillment of our unique and personal vocation according to God’s definitive GIFT (His grace) that decides the real, ultimate meaning of existence, of every event in history, every thing, and every one of ourselves. The Word of the Father—through whom and for whom all things have been created—took flesh in the Virgin Mary’s womb, through the unbounded freedom of Mary’s “yes” to God’s wise and loving plan. He was “born of the Virgin Mary.” By virtue of His humanity, He who is God—He who is the Person of God the Son, begotten by God the Father from all eternity in the Mystery of the Trinity—He assumed our human nature as His own (Christ is true God and true man); He entered our history and “took flesh” specifically by becoming Mary’s Son. She is therefore affirmed in ancient Christian tradition and teaching as “Mother of God,” Theotokos. And her motherhood accompanied her Son Jesus to the cross with a love joined to His love for us in His redeeming death which is our salvation.Many Protestant Christians and others are perplexed by the Catholic (and Orthodox) appreciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary as our Mother. Nevertheless, the problems and misunderstandings that people have about Mary do not put her off. People sometimes refer to their difficulties by saying, “I have a ‘problem’ with Mary.” To which I am inclined to respond (without being glib or dismissive), “Don’t worry. You may have a ‘problem’ with Mary, but Mary does not have a problem with you.” Mary is a real person, with a real human heart that embraces each one of us. Her motherhood is a fact. Certainly, we wonder about this, and want to understand how it coheres with (and even springs from) the fact that Jesus Christ is the one and only Savior and the source of all redeeming grace. Catholic teaching is abundantly clear on this point (which is succinctly expressed in the Catechism, nn. 963-975). Yet, while endeavoring to explain in greater detail the role of Mary in our lives and clear up many misconceptions about what Catholics believe, we cannot deny that there is a mystery—a beautiful, gratuitous mystery—to Mary’s unique and universal “spiritual maternity.” She transfigures—and thereby also fully vindicates—the fundamental human significance of motherhood and maternal love.
Therefore, we have no reason to fear Mary. She is the greatest of mothers. She loves and cares for all her children. What a joy it is that we can always turn to her. She is close to each one of us, and all the ardor of her Son’s redeeming, healing, and transforming love burns in her all-holy, Immaculate Heart.
Mary is the Mother who will never fail us. She will bring us to Jesus and make us know Him more intimately. She will walk the path with Jesus even with those who don’t realize she’s doing it, and—I hope—with many many others who don’t yet realize that it is Jesus that they really seek and love through their many-faceted endeavors to adhere to the Mystery of reality and fulfill their destiny. And Mary will enlighten us along the way, in whatever we are called to accomplish and endure in this life, to live as children of the Father, as brothers and sisters of Jesus: as her children. She will show us, in simple, humble ways, how to lay the foundations for a civilization of love.
Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God, Theotokos, All-Holy, Merciful Mother, we entrust ourselves to the strength and tenderness of your Immaculate Heart.
“Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light” (Matthew 11:28-30).
Buona Festa di Sant’Antonio di Padova!
My Dad was Walter Anthony Janaro, as is my brother. Dad seemed more drawn to Anthony as his patron saint. No one in the family could ever remember how a German name like “Walter” made its way down to Naples and the Neapolitan Janaro family (though it was also my paternal grandfather’s name, and perhaps had precedents before that). There is a “Saint Walter” around in European history (at least one), but the Janaros don’t know much about him except that he was from somewhere north of the Alps.
I suspect the name “Walter” has long history with our clan, dating back to the days when Italy was “just” a peninsula that saw many diverse ethnicities on its shores, who came as pilgrims to see of Rome and—at various times—rulers after the fall of the Western Roman Empire.
On the other hand, “Antonio” needs no explanation as an Italian name. For 800 years, this early Franciscan saint has been known and loved by the Italian peoples of every region on the peninsula where he preached and served for most of his life in the 13th century (though Antonio himself came from Coimbra in Portugal).
His feast day is June 13.