The Church’s teaching on the dignity of human life is rooted in scripture, with the passage from Genesis, stating, after having created the heavens and the earth and all other creatures: “Then God said: Let us make human beings in our image, after our likeness. Let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, the tame animals, all the wild animals, and all the creatures that crawl on the earth. God created mankind in his image; in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them” (Genesis 1:26-8). The human person, thus created in God’s very image and likeness, is the highpoint of all of creation, having dominion over all that God has created. This is reiterated in the Catechism of the Catholic Church, which reminds us that this divine image in which we are created finds its fulfillment in the person of Jesus Christ:

“Christ,… in the very revelation of the mystery of the Father and of his love, makes man fully manifest to himself and brings to light his exalted vocation.” It is in Christ, “the image of the invisible God,” that man has been created “in the image and likeness” of the Creator. It is in Christ, Redeemer and Savior, that the divine image, disfigured in man by the first sin, has been restored to its original beauty and ennobled by the grace of God.

(Catechism of the Catholic Church, #1701)

It is in the person of Jesus Christ himself, then, that every single human being, whether a believer or not, finds his or her dignity, in that every single human being shares in that same image of the God who became human in the person of Jesus, who took upon himself the fullness of what it means to be human in order that we might learn what it means for him, and what it means for each of us through him, to be God.

Our discussion of what it means to be pro-life, therefore, must always be rooted in our belief in the goodness of what it means to be human and the ramifications of what it means for us to share our humanity with the very God who has created us in his image and likeness. For us simply to classify ourselves as “anti-abortion” or “anti” any other violation of the dignity of the human person, whether that is euthanasia, capital punishment, human trafficking, or physical or mental abuse of anyone, is simply missing the point. If we are pro-life, then we embrace rather than reject. We embrace the fullness of what it means to be human. We embrace the fullness of what it means that God has called us into existence, breathing the very life of his Spirit into our lungs and into our lives.

We embrace what it means to be redeemed by our Lord and Savior, who calls us into communion with himself and communion with one another. In doing so, he calls us to live lives of beatitude, lives in which we recognize what it means to blessed and what it means to share that blessing with all of creation. He calls us, moreover, to become partakers of his divine nature and of the eternal life he shares with us through our Savior Jesus Christ (Catechism of the Catholic Church, #1722).

Let us pray, then, this month and always, for a growing appreciation for what it means for us to be human. Let us pray for a growing appreciation for what it means for each of us to be created in the image and likeness of God. Let us pray the believers and non-believers alike may come to understand the great dignity of what it means to be human and what it means to cherish and protect the gift of life in every stage, at every moment, from conception to natural death.

A few weeks ago, on the 6 th Sunday in Ordinary time, we were confronted with the difficult words of Jesus in St. Luke’s version of the Beatitudes. In this version, Jesus says that that the ones who are blessed are not the rich but the poor; not those who are satisfied but rather the hungry; not those who laugh but rather those who weep; not those of whom everyone speaks well but rather those who are despised and excluded and insulted—not for their own sake but for the sake of the Son of Man.

Every now and then, I am surprised when I see someone who is facing some great challenge in life, some adversity, who, when asked how he or she is doing, responds, “I am blessed.” In spite of the faith I claim to profess, I don’t think I ever understood that until after a two week hospital stay in December of 2018 for sepsis, when I began to understand just how close I had been to death. It was only then that I realized that there are times when we can rely on absolutely nothing except for the grace of God. There is nothing we can do but allow God to love us and to be present to us, in spite of our natural instinct always to try to do something for ourselves. It was certainly a humbling experience in which I was forced to face my own weakness, my own limitations, my own insignificance in the face of eternity.

What does it mean to be blessed? It means that in the midst of our suffering—suffering we don’t have to look for but which will certainly find us—we recognize God’s loving and abiding presence in our lives. It means that no matter what goes wrong for us, no matter how unsuccessful we may be in the eyes of the world, we recognize that true success cannot be measured in material terms. True blessedness lies not in success but in faithfulness. It is found not in what we drive, nor in where we live, not even in what income tax bracket we find ourselves but rather in our ability to recognize the gifts we have and to share them with those around us. Being blessed does not necessarily mean being the

first or best at anything but in recognizing that no matter how badly things seem to be, no matter how tempted we are to give up, God loves us, pure and simple. And when we are hungry, when our lives are empty of material things, God is waiting to fill us with his love—not so that we can hold on to it for ourselves but so that we can share it with those around us. And that is why we fast and give alms during Lent in particular—so that we can allow God to fill us with his love, a love which we are called, in turn, to share with others. True blessedness carries with it not a freedom from all responsibility but rather the freedom of servanthood, of being willing to carry the cross for others, following the example of Jesus Christ in allowing our bodies to be broken and our lives to be poured out for the sake of others.

What does it mean to be blessed? We find blessing not in the fact that life is necessarily easy for us but that we are willing to make life easier for our brothers and sisters around us who are struggling to walk life’s journey. We find blessing even in being hated for the sake of Christ in order that Christ might shine forth in us. If we trust only in ourselves or in our possessions, then we have everything to fear. But if we trust in Christ, who died and rose for us out of love alone, then we have nothing to fear. For we will understand what is of utmost importance and what is not. And in understanding, we will know what it means in the most profound sense to be counted among those who are blessed because we will share those blessings—the fruit of our fasting, prayer and alms—with he world around us, especially with those who are in need.

Being named John, I have many saints to call upon to intercede for me as I struggle to navigate my way through life in this world. When I was younger, I would often focus my efforts on asking St. John the Evangelist, the Beloved Disciple, to intercede for me. And while I knew that St. John the Baptist was just as important, in fact, the very one of whom Jesus said that “no greater man born of woman” has ever lived, I so often kept him at arm’s length.

I’m not sure why I shied away from John the Baptist. Maybe it was his reputation of being a rabble rouser. Maybe it was his extreme diet and clothing. After all, he was known to wear camel hair and to live on a diet of locusts and wild honey. Maybe it was the fact that his words were not only challenging but even at times harsh when speaking to such groups as the Pharisees. But then again, are not the words of Jesus himself at times difficult to accept, especially when he refers to the Pharisees and Scribes as whited sepulchers?

And yet, as I have grown older, and perhaps a bit wiser (only a bit, as my siblings like to point out to me), I find myself more and more drawn to the person of John the Baptist. John was not afraid to speak the truth. In a world which is increasingly hostile to what we, as Christians, believe the truth to be, I find that I need the courage of John the Baptist to be able to speak up for what I believe to be the truth. And while I never thought of him as being particularly humble, I am increasingly drawn to the words he spoke in giving his own testimony to Jesus when he said, “The bride belongs to the bridegroom. The friend of the bridegroom stands and listens for him, and is overjoyed to hear the bridegroom’s voice. That joy is mine, and it is now complete. He must increase; I must decrease.” He must increase; I must decrease. These words are certainly challenging. I find them personally challenging, as if John himself were saying them directly to me that I might follow his example of allowing his entire life, his entire being, point the way to Christ.

During this Season of Advent, specifically the second and third weeks, we are invited to focus on the person of John the Baptist not as an end in himself but rather as the voice of one crying out in the desert, “make straight the way of the Lord.” We are invited to follow his example in always allowing ourselves to point to Jesus. Like John, we are called to be voices crying out a similar message, so that the world will be ready when Christ comes again to usher in the end times. We are called to follow the example, who allowed his own life, his own ego, to be emptied so that we might focus not on ourselves, but on Christ Jesus himself, who is the light to which John gave testimony, who is the Word become flesh, who is the Only Begotten Son of born of the Virgin Mary in Bethlehem of Judea in the fullness of time.

Of course, we are conscious that the possibility of religious persecution is a not so distant memory in Ireland but rather a part of the history which brought so many of our ancestors to America, whether it was the direct result of violence or the result, rather, of the anti-Catholic policies which left the majority of the Irish people destitute and even starving. But do we take the religious freedom we enjoy in the United States seriously? I was reminded as we recited the Nicene Creed just after Fr. Joseph had finished his long but moving homily that people have died for that Creed. People have died for the ability to proclaim that Creed and to live it as Catholic Christians—not just the martyrs of the ancient Roman world—people are dying for the ability to proclaim that Creed and live it even today. Are we even conscious that there are as many Christians dying for their faith in parts of the world today as died in what we commonly refer to as the Church of the Martyrs of the ancient world?

Perhaps we might take time over the next days to reflect upon what it means for us to enjoy the freedom of religion which is ours and what might be asked of us in the future. Perhaps we might take the time consider the depth of our own commitment to the Lord and our own participation in the faith that we profess. Do we really take our faith seriously, or do we treat it as something we do but which is not really a part of who we are on Sundays or even less frequently? And let us renew our commitment to the freedom of religion here in these United States. Let us renew our commitment to the faith which our ancestors held so dearly that they were willing to risk everything, including their lives, for the proclamation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ and their ability to worship as Catholic Christians.

Christians, praise the paschal victim!
Offer thankful sacrifice!
Christ the Lamb has saved the sheep,
Christ the just one paid the price,
Reconciling sinners to the Father.
Death and life fought bitterly
For this wondrous victory;
The Lord of Life who died reigns glorified!

Easter Sequence
Roman Rite, Eleventh Century

“This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad, alleluia!” This the day which follows the night of nights, the mother of all vigils. This is the day of our salvation, in which we celebrate the triumph of light over darkness, of love over hatred, of life over death. Having waited in vigil to celebrate the Resurrection of the Lord, the Church gathers this day in joyful celebration, proclaiming the triumph of Christ Crucified and Risen. The altar and sanctuary which were stripped as the Triduum began are now festively decorated with fresh flowers, linens and candles. The baptismal font is filled with water and the paschal candle, newly blessed and lit during the night vigil, burns brightly in the sanctuary, shedding its light upon the ambo as the Word of God is proclaimed. Alleluias, which have been silent since Ash Wednesday, resound once again as the Church celebrates the victory of Christ over death and sin. Today, in the midst of the Liturgy of the Word, the jubilant eleventh century paschal sequence is sung. The faithful renew their baptismal promises and are sprinkled with holy water from the newly blessed font as a reminder that by virtue of our baptism we share with Christ in the mystery of his death and resurrection. In one sense, Easter Sunday is the culmination and fulfillment of what began on Ash Wednesday. But in another sense, it is but a beginning of a month of Sundays—fifty days of intense celebration that Christ is risen from the dead—fifty days in which we take to heart the mystery of our salvation—fifty days in which we celebrate the resurrection which Christ has promised to share with all who place their faith in him.

My prayer for all of us who are members of the Ancient Order of Hibernians will allow ourselves during this Easter Season to be touched by the presence of the Lord who died for us and rose from the dead for our salvation. May we place our hope in him who saved us from our sins be beacons of light in the midst of a world that is darkened by sin and suffering, allowing our lives to reflect the love of the Risen Christ, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.

Fr. John Keehner
National Chaplain

But do we really understand what it means to fast and to abstain? While the letter of the law is very clear, the spirit of the law is often misconstrued. For example, eating lobster on a Friday during Lent certainly fulfills the letter of the law. But I would suggest that it violates the spirit of the law. Rather, we can learn from the prophet Isaiah, who offered the following reflection on what it means to offer a fast that is acceptable to the Lord:

Is this the manner of fasting I would choose, a day to afflict oneself?
To bow one’s head like a reed, and lie upon sackcloth and ashes?
Is this what you call a fast, a day acceptable to the LORD?
Is this not, rather, the fast that I choose:
releasing those bound unjustly, untying the thongs of the yoke;
Setting free the oppressed, breaking off every yoke?
Is it not sharing your bread with the hungry, bringing the afflicted and the homeless into your house;
Clothing the naked when you see them, and not turning your back on your own flesh?
Then your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your wound shall quickly be healed;
Your vindication shall go before you,
and the glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard. (Isaiah 58:5-8)

In other words, when we fast or practice abstinence, we should not be trying to get around the law by lavishing ourselves with luxuries. Nor should we go about punishing ourselves, as if to say, “God, look at how good I am”. True fasting is not about us at all. It is about learning to put ourselves in the shoes of those who are less fortunate. That is why true fasting always goes hand in hand with the giving of alms. My fasting and abstinence should allow me to share what I have with those who are in need—the poor, the hungry, the homeless, those who are afflicted.

But just as important as the act of sharing in their need is the attitude with which I do it. St. Basil once wrote: “Let us fast an acceptable and very pleasing fast to the Lord. True fast is the estrangement from evil, temperance of tongue, abstinence from anger, separation from desires, slander, falsehood and perjury. Privation of these is true fasting.” Perhaps fasting might mean for any one of us giving up whatever idol keeps us from knowing, loving and serving God—whatever idol prevents us from seeing Christ in those around us. For some of us, that idol is sugar. For others, it might be alcohol, or caffeine, or something subtler, such as gossip, or prestige, or pride. For all of us, it means recognizing who we are and who God has created us to be in true humility.

Let us learn, then, from St. Basil and from the prophet Isaiah what it means to fast according to the spirit of the law, so that we focus not on ourselves, not on our needs or desires, but on the good of those around us. It is only then, Isaiah tells us, that our vindication will go before us and the glory of the Lord shall be our rear guard. As members of the Ancient Order of Hibernians, we are particularly conscious that, as our motto reminds us, we are called to do all things in Friendship, Unity and Christian Charity. We are mindful in particular of those charities which allow us as an Order, to assist those in need through such efforts as the Hibernians Disaster Relief Fund, Project Saint Patrick, and the Hibernian Hunger Project in addition to those needs of our particular communities. As you engage in fasting over these next six weeks, I invite you to consider supporting the charities which are central to the mission of our Order in addition to those charities which may be first and foremost in your minds and hearts because they make a difference in the lives of those in your own communities and neighborhoods.

As we prepare to enter into the season of Lent tomorrow, may the Lord be with you and bless you, that you might know what it means to know him, to love him, and to serve him.

Fr. John Keehner

If the events of the past few days remind me of anything, it is that God is always willing to surprise us. What a surprise to so many, for example, who view God as a cold and distant figure, that God would choose to come into the world as a powerless infant? What a surprise it must have been to the Magi to have found the newborn King of the Jews not in a palace but in the poverty of a stable? What a surprise to those who view God as merciless that God would choose to take the sins of the world upon his shoulder and to die for the salvation of His people on a cross? What a surprise to those who saw death as the final end that Jesus would rise from the dead and that he would promise that same resurrection to all who are willing to place their faith in him?

Next Sunday, January 3, we celebrate the Solemnity of the Epiphany, the high point of the Christmas Season. And while in the west we automatically associate this feast with the arrival of the Magi at the stable to pay homage to the infant Jesus, the feast has a much broader meaning than we usually consider. The word Epiphany literally means manifestation or revelation. And so we understand the feast of Epiphany as the manifestation of God’s glory to the nations, symbolized by the presence of the Magi, “astrologers from the East”, who represent the nations of the world. Historically, however, the celebration of the feast was also associated with two other revelatory events—the Baptism of Jesus by John in the Jordan River and the miracle at Cana in which Jesus changes water into wine, the first of the signs in John’s Gospel that the Kingdom of God is at hand. While we now celebrate the Baptism of the Lord as a separate feast which officially ends the Christmas season, it is still celebrated as the Epiphany event in the Eastern Churches, called the Theophany, literally the revelation of God to the world.

As we celebrate Epiphany this year, let us consider what it means that God has revealed himself to us in so many ways—in the adoration of the Magi; in the Baptism of the Lord, in which God the Father says, “This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased”; in the miracle of the transformation of water into wine at the wedding at Cana, in which Jesus’ mother, Mary, said to those serving the wine, “Do whatever he tells you.”

And let us ponder what surprises God may have in store for us in this new year of 2021. How will God reveal himself to us and to the world? What surprises does God have in store for us as a world? As a Church? As members of the Ancient Order of Hibernians? What surprises does God have in store for our families and for ourselves as individuals? May we be open to believe and to understand whatever manner God chooses to reveal himself to us. May we be open to recognize the revelation of his Beloved Son, in whom He is well pleased, in whatever way He chooses to manifest himself. And may we consciously take to heart the advice of Mary, the Mother of Jesus and the Mother of God, to do whatever Jesus tells us to do, that we might give glory to God the Father in all that we say and do.

May God bless each and every one of you in this New Year.

Fr. John Keehner
State Chaplain for Ohio
National Chaplain

I first visited Knock in April of 2013 with my cousin Christine.  We were in Ireland for the first time and used a bed and breakfast in Knock as our base of operations while combing the countryside doing family history research.  As I was sitting in little church in Knock praying before morning Mass, it slowly dawned on me that my own family members, namely my Great great grandmother and her children and grandchildren who had not yet emigrated to the United States, livingin nearby Claremorris in 1879, would surely have heard rumors of the apparitions and would most likely  have visited.  I took great comfort in the probability that the Shrine at Knock and the devotion of pilgrims over the last one hundred forty one years was a clear link with my own family history and with the faith which my ancestors passed on to me.

One aspect of the Apparitions at Knock which I find so endearing is the fact of Mary’s silence—a silence which continues to speak volumes even today.  While most apparitions of the Blessed Mother include a clear and distinct message from her to the world, at Knock she said no words.  Rather, she simply lifted her prayers to heaven, reminding us of her role as intercessor to her Son, who  appeared as the Lamb upon the Altar of Sacrifice.  In doing so, she reminded us of the centrality of the Eucharist in our lives, the centrality of the Pascal Mystery as the salvific event in human history.  I spent several hours during those three days spent in Knock praying and visiting the various chapels and the Basilica.  And in doing so, I felt very close to our Blessed Mother and very close, therefore, to her Son.  

One question I have pondered often over the last three decades is whether a place of pilgrimage is holy because of the events that have taken place there or because of the prayers of the pilgrims who go there in search of healing, in search of answers to the ultimate questions of life and death, or mortality and immortality, in search of a renewal of faith and hope.  The Shrine at Knock, I believe, is holy because of both.  It is holy because our Blessed Mother Mary, along with Saint Joseph and Saint John the Evangelist chose to appear there in the presence of the Lamb of God.  It is holy because of the faith of those men, women and children who stood for hours in the rain to gaze upon the wonder which they beheld with the eyes of faith on that evening of August 21, 1879.  But it remains holy because of our prayers—because of the faith which continues to bring so many to Knock—because of the yearning for eternity in the presence of the Living God which is so much a part of our Catholic Christian faith which is made manifest to us the celebration of the Eucharist, the source and summit of who we are.  

And so, in the words of a song I have often heard, if you ever get the chance to go to Ireland, go to Knock.  And take with you your prayers, your hopes, your dreams, your fears, and lay them at the Altar of the Lamb.  Join with Mary, our Mother and the Mother of God, in giving praise for the wonderful things God has done for us.