Maria Luisa Josefa; a role model of holiness in the single, married, widowed, and religious life

Mother Maria Luisa Josefa                                      Carmelite Sisters of the Sacred Heart

By Larry Peterson

She was born on June 21, 1866, in Jalisco, Mexico.  Her full name was Maria Luisa de la Pena y Navarro. As the years passed, it would shorten and become Maria Luisa Josefa. Maria was the third child born to her parents and the first to survive. The births of eleven more children followed her arrival. Maria, as the oldest, felt a responsibility to set an example for her younger siblings. She did so by exhibiting gentle behavior and kindness to all of them. Through it all, she always felt called to religious life.  However, answering God’s calling would have to be delayed.

Maria’s parents had different plans for her. They wanted her to marry a prominent physician in the area by the name of Pascual Rojas. Always the obedient child, Maria agreed to do as her mother and father wished. At the age of fifteen, she put her calling to religious life on hold and married Pascual. He was twice her age. They were happily married for fourteen years. They even built a small hospital together to serve the poor and less fortunate. It was called the Hospital of the Sacred Heart.

Dr. Rojas died suddenly, and Maria became a widow. She was twenty-nine years old. She had no children and remained a single woman for the next eight years. Then she entered the Cloistered Carmelites and immersed herself in the deep spirituality of Carmel.

After only seven months, Archbishop Francisco Jiminez reached out to Sister Maria. He asked her to return to the hospital she and her husband had started. He wanted her to apply her administrative abilities as the operations were falling into chaos. Maria not only put the hospital operations back in order, but she also opened a school and an orphanage. The quiet display of holiness and the saintliness she always exhibited drew many more women seeking to join her ministry.

Archbishop Jiminez once again asked Sister Maria for her help. He wanted her to join another order called the Sister Servants of the Blessed Sacrament. Always obedient, Sister left her work behind and did as asked. She never asked why. She was with the Sister Servants for four years when the archbishop once again reached out to her. He needed her back at the hospital and the orphanage. The bishop let her settle in and then told her he wanted her to found a new congregation to identify with the work she and her followers were committed to. Sister Maria founded the Carmelite Sisters of the Sacred Heart. The date was February 2, 1921.

In 1926 the Cristero War began.  Under the secularist religion hating president, Plutarco Calles, priests, nuns, and countless Catholics were persecuted, many being tortured and killed. On June 24, 1927, Sister Maria and two of her sister Carmelites, dressed in disguise as homeless women,  escaped to Los Angeles, where they sought refuge.

Not knowing what to do or where to start, Sister Maria placed everything in God’s hands. On the Feast Day of the Sacred Heart of Jesus they are unexpectedly welcomed by the Archbishop of Los Angeles, John Cantwell, who had expected their arrival. He arranges shelter for them with the Sisters of the Immaculate Heart of Mary. They remain there until August 3, 1927, and then move to Long Beach to Holy Innocents Parish. The pastor, Father Francis Ott, warmly welcomes them. And so begins the foundation for establishing the Carmelite Sisters of the Most Sacred Heart of Los Angeles, a sister congregation to the order in Mexico.

After two years in the United States, Sister Maria Luisa Josefa returned to Guadalajara. She returned to work, giving help to the poor.  She died on February 11, 1937. Before she lost consciousness, she blessed the congregation gathered around her bedside. Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament was conducted and finished moments before her final breath

On July 1, 2000, Pope St. John Paul II declared Mother Maria Luisa Josefa, a woman of “Heroic Virtue.” He then bestowed the title of Venerable Maria Luisa Josefa upon her. Her feast day is February 11.

Venerable Maria Luisa, please pray for us.

 


She never left home yet became a Dominican and a Patroness of Catechists

Blessed Magddalena Panattieri Public Domain

By Larry Peterson

Her simple life shows how holiness can shine brighter than special gifts or talents

Magdalen Panattieri was born in the tiny town of Trino, Italy, in 1443. Her parents were pious and prayerful people, and their example helped set their daughter on a saintly course. While still a child, Magdalen made a vow of virginity and developed a great devotion to St. Catherine of Siena.  Before she was twenty, she joined the Order of Preachers (the Dominicans) as a layperson rather than religious. It was an unusual thing to do because most members were primarily widows and older women.

Magdalen, living at home, performed the apostolic works of charity that were part of the Dominican apostolate.  The young woman brought a new spirit of penance and sacrifice to her chapter and always remained cheerful and resourceful. She often spent her morning hours at Eucharistic Adoration.  During the afternoons, she would care for the sick and the poor. The people took notice of her austere and straightforward manner. She always wore a rough, woolen shirt when she would go on one of her frequent long fasts.

Her brother kept getting into trouble, and when he did, she would fall to her knees before the Crucifix begging God to help him. Her efforts were so powerful that the Order decided that they must pay stricter attention to this facet of the apostolate. They were so determined to promote this that, in 1490,  Sebastian Maggi was dispatched from Milan to set it all in motion.  

During this time, Dominican friars were involved in a lawsuit with a Milanese nobleman who had used his power so outrageously, that he was excommunicated from the church. The man was so filled with hatred toward the Dominicans and the church that when he saw Magdalen, he slapped her across the face so hard that she was knocked down. She looked up at him and said, “Brother, here is the other cheek. I give it to you for love of Christ.”  That made him angrier, and he hit her again. Before the year was out he died a violent death from an incurable disease.

In the meantime, Magdalen had begun teaching catechism to the local children, and this attracted adults to her teaching. She was an excellent speaker and was given the task of conducting conferences to women and children in the Dominican church. She became such an eloquent homilist that men, priests, and religious began to come to hear her speak. Within a short time, she was drawing crowds all over northern Italy.

Magdalen’s life of prayer and penance also included other mystical gifts. She not only received the stigmata, she also possessed the gifts of prophecy, visions, and ecstasy. She predicted Italy’s future political troubles and the impending French invasion of the country. She prayed God would spare her people, and although she did not live to see it, during the time of bloodshed, Trino was spared while all the surrounding towns were destroyed.  

The people loved Sister Magdalen. The Marquis of Monferrato held her in such high regard he called her “his mother.”  She predicted her death and said it would occur on October 13, 1503. When that day arrived Magdalen called her tertiary sisters to her bedside. She promised to pray for them and told them , “I could not be happy in heaven if you were mot there too.”

As her companions stood by her bedside, Magdalen began to softly sing. In a sweet voice, the lyrics from Jesu nostra Redemptio followed by Ave Maris Stella came from within her. When she finished singing, she passed on. She was 60 years old.

Pope Leo XII beatified Magdalen Panattieri on September 26, 1827. At that time, he confirmed that a “cultus” (popular devotion) had existed since her death. Her remains, which had been lost, were found in 1964. In 1970, with the authorization of the Vatican, she was solemnly relocated to the Church of St. Peter the Martyr in Trino.  Her feast day is October 13.

Blessed Magdalen Panattieri, please pray for us.


Unable to teach the “Undesirables” in India, this Bishop moved to Africa and died serving the poor during a Yellow-fever epidemic

Melchior de Marian Bressilac wikipediia.commons

By Larry Peterson

His full name was Melchior de Marion Bresillac. He was born in a town called Castelnaudary, located in southern France, on December 2, 1813, and was the oldest of five children.

Melchior’s father wanted his boy to pursue a military career. Melchior felt a special calling to the religious life and when he was 19, informed his father of his wishes to become a priest. His dad accepted his son’s wishes, and, in 1832,  Melchior entered the minor seminary at Carcassone to pursue his vocation. He was ordained to the priesthood on December 22, 1838, and assigned as an associate pastor to his hometown parish, the  Church of St. Michael, in Castelnaudry.  

Father Bresillac had a keen mind and prepared and delivered excellent sermons. He reached out to the sick and marginalized, taught catechism to the children, and had immense patience and understanding for others, especially the youth. However,  there was one thing nagging at Father Bresillac. He harbored a strong desire to serve in the missions.

In 1840, Melchior made a retreat with the Jesuits at Avignon. It was at this retreat that he made up his mind to follow his missionary calling. The young priest expressed his desires to his parents and his Bishop about becoming a missionary. They were strongly opposed, but Melchior knew that his calling to this ministry was from God and that he had to pursue it.

Melchior had to summon his courage to resist the heartbreak his mother was feeling. His father was unyielding in his objections. The Bishop refused to give his permission. The young priest never wavered and continued praying and trusting in the Lord. Eventually, both his parents relented. His father wrote him a letter which read, “Go, my dear son. Go where heaven is calling you. Now, I recognize the voice that summons you. May he protect you. Be happy. I submit!”

Melchior now wrote to his Bishop for final approval. The Bishop refused to give his permission. Melchior wrote again and was denied again. The third time was a charm because the Bishop gave Father Meklchior the permission he sought. In 1841, Father Melchior Bressilac left St. Michael’s Church and entered “Missions Etrngeres de Paris” (MEP), aka the Paris Foreign Mission Society. After nine months of missionary training, Father Melchior Bressilac was assigned to Pondicherry, India. He arrived there on July 24, 1842.

Father Melchior spent a few months learning about the culture and studying the Tamil language. The priest quickly realized that there was disagreement among the European missionaries about how to deal with the national customs. The Indian Christians did not like being told how to behave by foreigners. Consequently, the missionaries were resented for wanting to impose European ways on the natives of the country. And the caste system, where the people were divided into different levels of acceptance, hindered evangelization greatly. Contact among the castes was forbidden, and it went against all things regarding the teaching of “love your neighbor.” Creating Christian communities was a daunting task.

Father Melchior spent twelve years in India. He was elevated to Bishop of Prusa, and he was determined to make priests out of the indigenous people. He wanted the native people to have their own clergy, with the Europeans acting as assistants. Their resistance to his objectives was fierce. The people were classified as “desirables” and “undesirables.” Bishop Bressilac was disgusted that so many of his fellow priests agreed with the caste system. He resigned his post and returned home to France

Bishop Bressilac wrote to the Congregation for the Missions in Rome. He asked if he could begin a mission in Africa in order “to go to the most abandoned.” His request was granted, and on February 29, 1856, Rome gave him their permission to start a society. He founded the Society of African Missions and spent the next two years recruiting and training new missionaries. In 1858 the first SMA (Societas Missionum ad Afros).[4]missionaries set forth for the new Vicariate Apostolic of Sierra Leone in western Africa.

A total of six missionary priests (inluding Bishop Bressilac) were in Freetown, Sierra Leone, on May 14, 1859, when a yellow fever epidemic broke out. Undaunted, the priests and Bishop stayed to treat the ill. They all died with Bishop Bressilac passing on June 25, 1859,  six weeks after their arrival.  Father Augustine Planque and some seminarians back in France were the only members of the new order left. Father Planque determinedly continued forward with Bishop Bressilac’s missionary work.

copyright©Larry Peterson 2020


This “martyr for purity” was killed in 1982 in Brazil

Isabel Crisitna Mrad Campos                                  aleteia.org

By Larry Peterson

The date has not been set for the beatification of Isabel Cristina Mrad Campos

Isabel Cristina Mrad Campos was born in Brazil, in the ancient city of  Barbacena, on July 29, 1962. A few weeks later, on the feast of the Virgin Mary’s Assumption, her parents had her baptized in the parish church of Nostra Signora della Pieta in Barbacena. At the age of seven, she received her First Holy Communion at the school of the Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul.

Isabel grew up in a devout Catholic family and led an everyday life for a young woman of that era. She studied hard, dated and attended socials, participated in Church activities, and was even part of the local St. Vincent de Paul Conference. She cared for needy children, spent time in prayer, and planned on becoming a pediatrician. The world looked bright to Isabel Campos.

She studied at Immaculata College run by the sisters of the Daughters of Charity. She was an excellent student with above-average intelligence, applied herself well, was held in high regard by her teachers, and had a good relationship with everyone. Often, Isabel helped the sick and the elderly, giving them food while demonstrating love and kindness to all, no matter who they might be.

When Isabel was twenty years old, she and her brother, Roberto, moved to the city of Juiz de Fora, where Isabel was going to prepare for entrance into medical school. They found a small apartment to rent located close to the school. It was an excellent place to study, but, more importantly, it was close to the church and the Blessed Sacrament. Having little money, she began to furnish the house as best she could.

She managed to acquire a table and chairs, utensils and plates, and other necessary items. Included among them was a wardrobe closet that required assembly. She hired a young, local man who had a reputation as a reliable handyman who charged reasonable prices.

On August 30, the young man delivered the wardrobe and began to assemble it. He began to converse with Isabel.  She became very uncomfortable as the man started making suggestive comments to Isabel about her good looks and asking her to date him. Isabel asked him to please finish his work and told him she was not interested. He told her he had to leave to get a missing part and would return to complete the job in a day or two.

On September 1, the man returned to Isabel’s apartment to finish the work. Sadly, his intentions were not on work. No, he was focused on Isabel. He immediately put his arm around her. She pushed him away telling him to stop. The man became enraged at the rejection and threw Isabel to the floor. She screamed, so he grabbed a chair and hit her with it.

He continued to beat her with it and then tore some sheets into strips and gagged her. He tied her with rope and ripped her clothes off. She fought the best she could to protect her honor. He stabbed her fifteen times before she died. Isabel never let him accomplish his intent. She chose death rather than fail in protecting God’s virtue.

Her violent death triggered an outcry for her recognition as a martyr for the faith. Many compared her to St. Maria Goretti. Also, many testified to Isabel’s work with those with disabilities and those who were the poorest of the poor.

On January 26, 2001, she was declared a Servant of God and in September of 2009, she was declared Venerable. During October of 2020, Pope Francis has recognized her death as one of  “in defensum castitatis”  (in defense of purity). She has been.declared  a martyr and her cause for beatification has been approved. The date is still TBA.

copyright©LarryPeterson 2020


To Her Husband, the Only Thing that mattered was the Arrival of the Priest

Light after Death

By Larry Peterson

Lee and Shirley Mae had moved from Pittsburgh, PA., to Pinellas Park, FL, back in 1984. Lee, a World War II veteran who served in the South Pacific during the war, and Shirley Mae had met at the Greater Pittsburgh Airport years before. Lee, a widower, worked for United Airlines. Shirley, who had never been married, was a waitress at the airport restaurant. They fell in love and got married. A few years after Lee retired from United, they headed south, settling on the Florida west coast near St. Petersburg.  

They purchased a two-bedroom home in a 55+ community called Mainlands of Tamarac. They immediately joined the local Catholic parish called Sacred Heart Church. It was perfect for the happy couple, and they quickly became involved in church ministry. They both volunteered as ushers, and Lee became an Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion. They also worked together every year during the annual Fall Festival, coordinating all the food court workers.

It was sometime in January of 2020 that Shirley began feeling “not right.” She was having a bit of trouble breathing, had a slight cough, and was experiencing fatigue. Lee and Shirley knew it was time to see the doctor, and they did. Doctors told her she had lung cancer.

Treatments with oral medications began in February. The pandemic resulted in a change of lifestyle, and Lee and Shirley adapted the best they could. They did not dare venture outside their home, and food and supplies were delivered and placed near the front door. Days turned to months, and Shirley’s health kept slipping downward.

Lee, who is a vibrant 96-year-old, could no longer care for his wife by himself. Sometime in early September, Hospice arrived on the scene.  Towards the end of September, a hospital bed was placed in the family room. Shirley was no longer able to sit up or eat by herself. Hospice workers were now coming in several times a day.

Hospice wanted to move Shirley to the Hospice center. Lee was horrified at the prospect. He told the nurse in charge, “My wife and I promised each other we would never let any one take either of us to any kind of home. She must stay here with me. Please, please, do that for me?”  Hospice, realizing Shirley’s time was not far away, agreed.

Lee and Shirley are devout Catholics who attended Mass every day. They are also neighbors and close friends of mine. .I became personally involved in helping them early in summer. My most important function was that of being a Minister of Holy Communion. Nothing was more important to them than my bringing Jesus in the Eucharist, especially on Sunday.

The end of September and the beginning of October seemed to blend together. It was about 5 P.M. on October 8th when my phone rang. Brenda, a close friend of Lee and Shirley’s, was calling to say that Shirley had passed a few minutes earlier. I had promised Lee that no matter what time of day or night it was, a priest would come to pray over Shirley when she passed. I immediately called the church.

The church has a phone menu, and if you press #8, you got the emergency line to the priest. I left a message, and I headed over to Lee’s house. Shirley was lying halfway on her side. Her head was bowed down a bit, and her eyes were half-open. She had a simple smile on her face. I was transfixed at how peacefully beautiful she appeared. I called the church again. Then I gathered those willing around Shirley’s bed, and we said a Chaplet of Divine Mercy for her.

Upon finishing the Chaplet, I called the church a third time. As I hung up the phone, it rang. It was Father Kevin, our pastor. He was out in Tampa at a convocation with priests and the bishop. Father Vijay, our other priest, was with him. They were was almost an hour away. The problem was the funeral home van was on the way to pick up Shirley. I was told they could not wait for the priest.

It is interesting how things can work out. Nothing was more important to Lee at that moment than the priest being there to pray over Shirley. Father Kevin said he could leave right away and, if traffic was light, he could make it in 45 minutes. I said, “Okay, father. Thanks, .” 

Fifteen minutes later, the funeral van pulled up. Father Kevin was at least a half-hour away. One of the hospice nurses came over to me and told me that they had another stop to make and could not wait. It was time to get bold.

I walked over to the van driver and told him the situation. The guy told me he was sorry, but he could not wait for more than fifteen minutes. I told him very nicely that “the only way anyone gets near that woman  before the priest does is over my dead body.” The guy smiled and said, “Okay, okay, I get it. I understand.”

Father Kevin arrived within the 45 minute time frame. We all gathered around, and calmness filled the room as Father prayed over Shirley and blessed her. Lee stood next to him, holding his wife’s lifeless hand, tears coming from his eyes. As Shirley was removed from the house, Lee stopped by the gurney and held her hand one last time.  Sobbing softly, he bent down and kissed her goodbye. She was still smiling.

Her funeral is scheduled for October 31st, Halloween. Ironically, wearing masks will be appropriate.

copyright©Larry Peterson2020

 


Alzheimer’s Disease and other Dementias—Time to Accept the Science and Reject the unknowing Pundits

By Larry Peterson

I was married to a woman who had Alzheimer’s Disease. Her diagnosis was determined not merely by her behavior, but by careful medical diagnosis. Today, there are those who occupy a public forum and use it to disseminate medical analysis based on their own dislikes and prejudices held against those they do not like.   They influence many viewers and listeners who may believe their “expertise” and begin doing their evaluations on whom these pundits reference. Publicly accusing folks of having Alzheimer’s Disease based on personal observation is disgusting. They all need an injection of “humility.” (I wish the CDC could come up with that).

Husband and Wife(s)

I have been widowed twice. My first wife, Loretta, passed away seventeen years ago after being attacked by Stage 4 Melanoma. We had met in grade school, connected in high school, and were married 35 years. Yes—we were together until death parted us. Being a man of faith, I am sure I will see her again.

I met Marty at church a few years later. I was president of the St. Vincent de Paul Society, and she was interested in joining. Her husband had died four years earlier, and we had something in common. In need of a secretary, she volunteered. We were in frequent contact because of our positions, and about six months later, we went out to dinner. Two years later, we were married. It was something I had never considered. I believe God helped us meet.

Loretta suffered from Lupus, Chronic Pancreatitis, Type 1 Diabetes, and Liver disease. The Melanoma came last. I had become her caregiver and even learned how to administer her IVs and give her injections. I became pretty good at it. However, she never fell victim to the demon known as Alzheimer’s Disease. That was a world that I had only heard of but never experienced “up close and personal.”  I may have been a caregiver to Loretta, but I was not expecting what lay ahead, nor was I prepared for it.

“Newlyweds” and Cancer

You never know what life might throw your way, and we hit our first real “bump in the road” during the winter of 2007 when I was diagnosed with Prostate cancer. However, it proved to be less of a challenge than what we had anticipated.  In May, I had a radical prostatectomy. I was blessed because they told me my Gleason Score was an “8” and I would have been dead in two years if I had not taken care of it. My recovery took several months but it has been thirteen years since the surgery, and I am still cancer free.  Praise the Lord; I can still talk about it. 

But it was not long before a different situation unexpectedly reared its ugly head. It all began when Marty walked up to me, raised her right arm, and ponted to her armpit. She asked me, “Feel this lump. It keeps getting bigger. What do you think it is?”

Marty had never been sick a day in her life. She had noticed the “lump” but had never said anything, expecting it to go away. But it did not go away. Instead, it got bigger; so did the one in her groin. I convinced her to to see our primary care doctor who, upon examining the “lumps”,  referred us to a surgeon. The “lumps” were surgically removed, biopsied, and the diagnosis was; Large Grade B-Cell Lymphoma. Chemotherapy was to be her next challenge. Amazingly, she was not concerned at all. She told me, “This is nothing. I’ll be fine.”

After the diagnosis, we again met with a surgeon. This time it was to discuss having a mediport implanted in her chest.  A mediport is an access point for IV treatments. It replaces the need to always access an IV line by using a person’s veins. The patient can avoid all that by having their port accessed with a Huber needle, designed especially for that purpose. After the infusion is complete, the Huber needle is removed, and a  band-aid is placed over the site where the needle was inserted. The patient never has to be stuck and, in my opinion, it is a wonderful thing. Marty had the surgery in January of 2011  She began chemotherapy treatments in March of that year. 

Time for Chemo

Marty’s cancer was found in her lungs, her liver, spleen, and various other places. A year and a half later the cancer was 50% less than originally seen by the PET Scan. (The full name for   PET Scan is Positron Emission Tomography. It is an imaging test that can show how your tissues and organs are functioning.  A radioactive dye called a tracer is used to show the activity).By 2014 her cancer seemed to be in remission. During this time I did notice a change in Marty’s cognitive state. She seemed to be forgetting things, not much but enough that raise some red flags. For example, she was redundant, constantly asking the same question over and over;  “are we having dinner tonight?”  “are we having dinner tonight?”

The one that always tore me up was when she would look at me with a frightened look and ask, “Are you going away now?’….Are you going away now?” While she was in the hospital, it was always her fear that I would not come back. It was awful to see her fear-filled face. I simply began taking her with me when I had to go out for something.

She had always baked “made from scratch” chocolate chip cookies, and truthfully, they were fabulous. So one day, I am watching as she goes about the kitchen getting out the necessary ingredients to make some. Acting as normal  as can be, she takes out flour, eggs, sugar, brown sugar, butter, and other things (I do not know all the ingredients she used to make these cookies) and places them on the counter. She has done this same thing hundreds of times.

I continued to watch from the TV room, and it was as if everything was perfectly normal. I can remember thinking that maybe she was OK and that they had made a terrible mistake. Then she stopped and stood there looking at all the ingredients and the big stainless steel mixing bowl in front of her. She kept looking, and then she began to cry. I got up and slowly walked over to her. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

She was sobbing now, and I did not understand. Then she blurted out, “What is all of this stuff doing here? What is it doing here? Am I supposed to do something with it?”

I hugged her, and I told her that I would put the stuff away. She smiled, I kissed her on her cheek, and then she went in and sat down on the sofa. I was not sure if she remembered what she was even doing a few minutes earlier. That moment in time was a reality check for me. Unexpectedly, Marty’s cancer went into remission as the Alzheimer’s exacerbated.

Alzheimer’s and Dementia; the difference

It is important to remember that Alzheimer’s Disease and Dementia are two different things. Alzheimer’s is a form of Dementia, while Dementia is a syndrome or a symptom of a cognitive disorder. There are many other causes of dementia besides Alzheimer’s Disease such as Vascular Dementia, Huntington’s Disease, Dementia with Lewy Bodies, and Parkinson’s Disease Dementia, to name a few.

A football player may develop dementia from years of head trauma received while participating in his sport. A retired fighter may be deemed as being “punch drunk” because dementia has taken hold of his brain after thousands of punches to the head. A diagnosis of Alzheimer’s Disease requires a special evaluation by doctors and trained psychologists in the field before the Alzheimer’s label is officially given to the patient.

My wife first exhibited “forgetfulness’ during her chemo treatments in 2011. I had heard of “chemo-brain” and asked her oncologist about her chemo treatments being the cause. He could not answer and said we would have to wait and see. It was not until the summer of 2014 when medical professionals gave an official diagnosis of Alzheimer’s Disease. That was after an MRI, evaluation by a neurologist, and having her and the family interviewed by two psychologists who specialized in the field.

She lived three years after diagnosis. Some Alzheimer’s patients live up to fifteen years, especially those diagnosed in their early fifties. The course of the illness is unpredictable, but the results are very predictable. Alzheimer’s Disease cannot be slowed or stopped. It just keeps at it until its mission is accomplished.  Here are a few facts:

  • Today, 5 million people are living with Alzheimer’s Disease
  • It is the 6th leading cause of death in the USA
  • One in three seniors dies from Alzheimer’s or another form of Dementia

Lastly, from a man who has lived with  Alzheimer’s  and watched it erase his wife’s memory and kill her:  

I wish to say to all those uneducated “experts” who proudly use their “bully pulpit” to place labels of Alzheimer’s disease and other Dementias upon those they do NOT like; you are making a mockery of the profession you are practicing. You should be ashamed of yourselves.

And please, never forget to ask the Patroness of those with dementia and mental illness for her intercession. Her name is St. Dymphna  Click on her name and say “HI.”

Copyright©Larry Peterson 2020

 


Born paralyzed, this future Saint became a Media Celebrity at the age of 57. Meet Gaetana “Nuccia” Tolomeo

Venerable Gaetana “Nucci” Tolomeo
public domain

By Larry Peterson

Gaetana Tolomeo was born in Catanzaro, in Italy’s Calabria region, on Good Friday, April 10, 1936. Father Teodoro Diaco baptized her on July 12, 1936, in the local Church of Our Lady of the Rosary. This was quite providential since baby Gaetana would devote her life to prayer and hold a Rosary in her hand for her entire life. As time passed by, she became known to everyone as “Nuccia.”

Nuccia suffered from a progressive and deforming paralysis that attacked her when she was just a small child. It stunted her growth, leaving her disabled. Her parents took her to local doctors, but they were unable to help the youngster. They also had a sickly son, Giuliano, who was born on October 30, 1940. He would die sometime in 1944, but between Nuccia and Giuliano, they had been through a  heartwrenching and challenging time. Now it was just eight-year-old Nuccia, but circumstances seemed no better.

With no local help available, they sent Nuccia to an aunt in Cuneo for medical assistance. However, doctors in Cuneo were unable to help, and after a short time, she returned home. As time passed, Nuccia’s condition worsened, and she became confined to either her bed or a chair.

The Holy Spirit was indeed working within her because Nuccia never felt sorry for herself. Instead, she embraced her illness and the suffering that came with it as a way to reach the hearts of those that were living sinful lives. It was not long before she began to draw pilgrims who were coming to her for advice. These included priests, nuns, and laypeople. And they were coming for words of wisdom from a disabled woman with a fourth-grade education. They, too, must have felt the presence of the Holy Spirit when they approached her.

Nuccia saw in her illness a way to participate in the Passion of Jesus. She even alluded to this in her spiritual writings. The people that came to see Nuccia noticed that Nuccia always clasped a rosary in her hands. She also attended Eucharistic Adoration as often as possible. And she managed to become a part of CatholicAction, formed in the 19th century to counter anti-Catholicism.

In 1994, Nuccia began to be a guest on the local radio station, Radio Maria. Her primary objective was to spread the Gospel message to the suffering with whom she could identify. Those that were drug addicts, prostitutes, and the needy, especially families, going through financial struggles. Her program became very popular. She began to be heard on “Il Fratello,” a program where folks called in with problems, and Nuccia would answer their questions. The host, Federico Quaglini, would ask her spiritual questions. Nuccia, a great devotee of a St. Pio of Pietrelcina, would answer them.

Gaetana “Nuccia” Tolomeo suffered a pulmonary embolism and was admitted to the hospital. She was given blood transfusions, but her health continued to decline. She passed away on January 24, 1997, at the age of sixty. The following morning Radio Maria announced her death to thousands of listeners. Sadness at her loss and Joy in her life was the theme of the day.

This is the Easter message given by Nuccia in 1995: “… In his infinite mercy and wisdom, the Lord has prepared a weak body for me, for the triumph of his power of love … I praise and bless the Lord for the cross, of which he adorned me, because by crucifying my flesh, he also crucified my thoughts, my affections, my desires, and even my will, to make me his welcome abode, his satisfaction, his living tabernacle. Thanks to the cross of Christ, today, I can affirm with the apostle Paul ‘It is no longer I who live, it is Christ who lives and works in me.’ 

Gaetana “Nucci” Tolomeo was declared a woman of “heroic virtue” on April 6, 2019. She now wears the title of Venerable, and a miracle attributed to her has been approved. A date for her beatification will soon be announced.

Venerable Gaetana “Nucci” Tolomeo, please pray for us.

copyright©LarryPeterson 2020


A Rare Occurrence—Remembering and Embracing a Homily

Bible and Crucifix               Public Domain

By Larry Peterson

Many love the Mass, and I count myself among them. What transpires during this splendid celebration of life, death, resurrection, and redemption is what we call the Mystery of Faith. We honor the life of Christ; we journey with Him as He is tortured and killed, and we rejoice in His Resurrection, which heralds our salvation. United, we all say in one voice, “We proclaim Your death, O Lord, and profess your Resurrection until you come again.”

As often as possible, I attend daily Mass and have been doing so for many years. I have heard many sermons at these Masses. However, I have something to admit, something I am not proud of; I rarely remember homilies. I do not know why that is. I did some research, and according to the Pew Research Center, the average length of a Catholic homily is 14 minutes. (Mainline Protestants are at 25 minutes; Evangelicals at 39 minutes).

One-third of Catholics say they are “very satisfied” with homilies, while fifty-two percent say they are ‘somewhat satisfied.  Fifteen percent say they are ‘not at all satisfied.” Statistics on those who “did not remember” sermons eluded me. Therefore,  I assume that there are others out there that are in the non-remembering category like me.

Then came Wednesday, September 13, 2020. HALLELUJAH—-a homily that STUCK. And it was about LOVE—and what is the Mass about?  It encompasses the Greatest LOVE. And the purity of it all was simply splendid. It all was because of 1 Corinthians 12:31 and 13:1-13.

Chapter 13 of 1 Corinthians is read in its entirety during this Mass. I will only focus on verses 4 thru 7. This is where Father Kevin (our pastor) tied together these verses that made them (at least for me) most memorable. He presented it in such a way that I now  believe this part of the reading should  be made available to all Catholics, including children, as a tool to teach us what love truly means. I’m a senior citizen and I have heard this reading many times. My wife and I even chose it for a reading at our Nuptial Mass. And the wonder of these words never clicked in for me until Father Kevin gave us this easy technique to use. It was a simple case of adding and subtracting. Let me explain.

The reading from 1 Corinthians 13: 4-7 is as follows: “Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, love is not pompous,  it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interest, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoings but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”

Now, here comes the adding and subtracting with the subtracting coming first. What we simply do is take the word LOVE and references to LOVE i.e.: “It is” or “it does not” out of the reading. and replace each removal with our own name. See the sample below. My name, LARRY, will replace the word LOVE.  See what happens.

“LARRY is patient, LARRY is kind. LARRY is not jealous, LARRY is not pompous,  LARRY is not inflated, LARRY is not rude, LARRY does not seek HIS own interest, LARRY is not quick-tempered, LARRY  does not brood over injury, LARRY does not rejoice over wrongdoings but rejoices with the truth. LARRY  bears all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”

The short reading about LOVE becomes a personal self-help tool. Having your name replace the abstract word, LOVE, might help us refocus, get our bearings, check our emotions, and remind us how God wants us to be. He wants us to be like Him, and God is LOVE. Imagine having this for not only yourself but also your children. A printed card posted on the fridge with little Jack’s name or his sister Sally’s name written in place of the word LOVE could be a reference point. “Okay, kids, enough! Go read the cards. See who you really are.”

This could be our personal reality check about Jesus and LOVE. After a while, it would stick inside all our heads. We adults might have business-size cards in our pockets or wallets with this printed on it. If you are having a trying moment, reach for your card, and read it.

Interestingly, the Responsorial Psalm for the day was Psalm 33. “Blessed the people the Lord has chosen to be His own.”  Yes, that is us and being counted among the chosen requires all the self-help tools we can have. One final thought, I timed it , and it only took me fifteen seconds to read it.

Semper meminisse, est amor Dei   (Always remember, God is Love)

copyright©Larry Peterson 2020


The Deadliest Fire in American History was No Match for the Blessed Virgin Mary

We hear of the raging forest fires on the west coast but here is the true story of the worst firestorm in United States history (originally posted in 2017) It happened outside Green Bay, Wisconsin. in 1871. It is also the site of a documented miracle.

Forest Fire raging                                                                                         public domain

By Larry Peterson

On October 8, 1871, in or around a place called Peshtigo, Wisconsin, several men were busy setting small fires in the woods. This was a common practice in clearing land for expanding railroads or for developing farmland. Except on this particular day, something unexpected happened. A cold front moved into the area, creating winds that were close to hurricane force. The winds fanned the flames and the resulting Peshtigo Firestorm still can claim the ignominious title as the “deadliest wildfire” in American History.

To this day, no wildfire in the U.S. has ever caused more deaths. Close to 2500 people perished in the raging 2,000-degree inferno. But there is an incredible side-bar to this story. Miraculously, there was a small group who were not harmed at all, and they were right in the middle of the hellacious blaze. This small group of people were with Adele Brise.

Adele Brise was 24 years old when she came to Wisconsin with her parents. The year was 1855, and the family had just arrived from Belgium.  Devout Catholics, Adele had a great devotion to the Blessed Mother and prayed to her daily. They found a Catholic church nearby and would walk there every Sunday morning regardless of the weather.

On Sunday, October 2, 1859, Adele was walking home through the woods when she saw a woman, clothed in white, standing between a hemlock and a maple tree. The woman was encased in bright light and had a yellow sash around her waist.  A crown of stars was above her long, blond hair. Adele, filled with fear, began praying, and the vision disappeared. She told her mom and dad about it, and they said to her that maybe it was a soul in need of prayers.

The following Sunday, Adele, was on her way to Mass with her sister and another woman when she saw the apparition a second time. But her sister and friend, who were walking a bit ahead of her, did not see anything. Returning from Mass, the Lady appeared to Adele for the third time. Adele, who had confided in her parish priest about the mysterious Lady, did as he told her. She asked the Lady the question, “In the Name of God, who are you, and what do you wish of me?”

The Lady answered, “I am the Queen of Heaven who prays for the conversion of sinners, and I wish you to do the same. You received Holy Communion this morning, and that is well. But you must do more. Make a general confession and offer Communion for the conversion of sinners. Gather the children in this wild country and teach them what they should know for salvation.”

Adele was afraid. She knew little about her faith. She asked how she was supposed to do this with so little knowledge. The Blessed Virgin told her, “Teach them their catechism, how to sign themselves with the sign of the Cross, and how to approach the Sacraments; that is what I wish you to do. Go and fear nothing. I will help you.”

Adele took the Blessed Virgin’s words to heart. She began her new, lifelong ministry of teaching children the Catholic faith by traveling by foot from house to house to instruct children in their homes. Adele’s dad, Lambert Brise, built a small wooden structure at the sight of the apparition. A few years later, after Isabella Doyen donated five acres around the site, Adele, started a small school. Also, a  bigger wooden church was built, and it was named Our Lady of Good Help.

In the meantime, the magnificent woodlands of Wisconsin were being harvested for their fine lumber. Mounds of sawdust and dried branches were being littered about with no sense of cleanup or conservation ever considered. Then came the evening of October 8, 1871. The Peshtigo Fire quickly exploded and began to devour the entire area with its rushing flames and 2000 degree heat. The firestorm started to head for Our Lady of Good Help.

People nearby the chapel began heading to it. There was never an accurate count, but many people came, some even bringing their livestock. Sister Adele organized them together, and they all prayed the rosary. Outside the chapel, they walked in procession, holding high a statue of Mary pleading for her protection. The fire kept coming, and the people moved inside the chapel and continued praying. Soon the fire raged all around the compound, and the flames even arched over it. But the fire never touched the Chapel of Our Lady of Good Help or the people there.

Over one million acres were destroyed in the Peshtigo Firestorm. As far as the eye could see was total devastation. Yet, in the middle of it all, the Chapel of Our Lady of Good Help and the fenced property surrounding it was untouched. The property had been spared, and no one had been hurt, including the animals. The five acres sat amid the charred landscape like an oasis in the desert. People who came and saw this incredible sight knew the Hand of God was at work that night. The faithful did not doubt that the Blessed Virgin, Our Lady of Good Help, stood outside the chapel, deflecting the raging inferno away from her children inside.

The story of Sister Adele and Our Lady of Good Help was always well known within the local culture and to the faithful, but many considered it “urban legend”. That was because there was never an “official ecclesiastical judgment” rendered. Then, in 2009, the Diocese of Green Bay launched an official investigation. On December 8, 2010, the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, a special Mass was offered on the site by Bishop David Ricken. At the Mass, the bishop declared that the Marian apparitions witnessed by Adele Brise were “worthy of belief.”

The site of the apparitions of Our Lady of Good Help is only one of 15 worldwide recognized for Marian apparitions.  It is the only one in the United States. Since its ecclesiastical recognition and approval, The  Shrine of Our Lady of Good Help is rapidly growing as a site for pilgrims from around the world. The “cause” for the canonization of Sister Adele Brise will continue. It is a beautiful thing.

 

copyright ©Larry Peterson 2017


No Quarantining for this Priest. He walked straight into the deadly Pandemic to minister to his people. It cost him his life.

Fr. Patrick J. Ryan      public domain

By Larry Peterson

Patrick Ryan had been born in 1845, and he was never aware of the hard times his mom and dad endured during his first few years. It was during the time of Ireland’s  Great Potato Famine when his family was evicted from their farm. After selling whatever they could, they managed to make their way to New York City. It was here young Patrick would grow up and eventually answer God’s call to serve.

Patrick was an average student and had to study hard to make acceptable grades. When he was 21, he was able to enroll in St. Vincent’s College in Cape Girardeau, Missouri. Patrick was ordained in 1869 at the Cathedral in Nashville by Bishop P. A. Feehan. Ironically, the Feehan and Ryan families were close neighbors in Ireland, and this may be the reason Patrick joined the Nashville Diocese.

Father Patrick took charge of the Chattanooga area on July 10, 1872. He had to take care of not only the city but also of the southeastern part of the state. The baptismal register included towns such as Tracy City, Winchester, Cleveland, and others as places where Father Patrick had traveled to perform baptisms and administer the other sacraments. Father also was keenly aware that the need for a Catholic school was a prime requirement for the growing population.

The parish had always maintained a school for children. It operated under the supervision of the priest in charge, but all the grades were either taught by one man or one woman in the basement of the church. Father Patrick had different ideas. He was bound and determined to have a first-class school in his parish and the area. He also wanted nuns to be in charge. He headed to Nashville and pleaded with the Dominican Sisters of the St. Cecilia Congregation to establish new roots in Chattanooga. The Sisters had been in Nashville for sixteen years, and the timing was right for them to expand.

On January 6, 1876, four Dominican Sisters arrived in  Chattanooga and began the establishment of the Catholic faith in the area. The first thing they did was open the Notre Dame de Lourdes Academy. This school was located in the former rectory, which would also house the sisters. The regular school remained in the basement until a better facilty could be constructed. But the school had a “new life” about it. This was brought in by the nuns who immediately gave the school a level of excellence unseen until that they took charge.

The future of the parish seemed to be filled with hope and unbounded possibilities. Father Patrick was a happy man. But as is the way of things, sometimes things do not follow the way we think they will. A series of disastrous fires had consumed the business district. Then a cholera epidemic threatened the entire population. In 1875 a massive flood had struck. And now, unexpectedly, a little more than two years later, the school had to be converted into a hospital and an orphanage. The flooding created a perfect breeding ground for mosquitoes and Yellow Fever spread like wildfire.

The people of Chattanooga had escaped other plagues and considered themselves protected by the nearby mountains. It offered its hospitality to those in neighboring towns as a haven. But people coming into Chattanooga brought the disease with them.  Within a few days, the disease was declared an “epidemic,” and 80% of the population fled. One person who did not flee was Father Patrick Ryan. This was his home and these were his people. He would never leave them.

Witnesses said  Father Ryan was going from home to home in the worst infected sections of the city. His duty was to help the sick and dying and he was going to do that until he dropped. He came down with Yellow Fever on September 26. He was much sicker on the morning of the 27th and his newly ordained younger brother, Michael, administered Extreme Unction to his big brother. Father Patrick died on the morning of July  28, 1878. He was 33 years old.

Father Patrick Ryan was fully aware of the danger of yellow fever but chose to tend to his parishioners. He died, giving his life for others. On November 16, 2016,  the U. S. Bishops, at their General Assembly meeting in Baltimore, declared that Father Patrick Ryan is a Servant of God and his cause for sainthood has been forwarded to Rome.

We ask Servant of God Patrick Ryan to pray for us all, especially during this Covid-19 pandemic.

copyright©Larry Peterson 2020