The issue of fasting might be a good place to start. The Catholic practice, modified over the years, lays claim on the lives of everyone in good health from the age of 14 (an age of presumed maturity in the ancient world!) through 59. We are asked to refrain from snacks between meals and to make sure that the two minor meals do not exceed the main one.

The basic purpose of any fast is to say “no” to ourselves for the sake of personal discipline. The “why” is the key to ultimate success. But are there many things from which we might fast, and many reasons for doing so. While moderating our food, we might also pay attention to other less than healthy activities.

Shall we fast this year from self-centeredness? Anyone merely fasting to lose weight and become slimmer by Easter may be successful and may even feel a great deal of personal satisfaction and accomplishment, but that’s dieting, not fasting. It’s for oneself and not necessarily spiritual in purpose. We fast to grow in awareness of our basic physicality and interdependence as human beings. We fast to experience the healthy rhythm of feasting and famine.

Shall we fast this year from isolation from the needy of our world? As Christians we fast to reestablish discipline in our lives and appetites. We fast to experience solidarity with the poor and impoverished of our world, and with those who struggle for a crust of bread or a bit of rice each day. Many beg and scavenge through garbage heaps simply to stay alive.

Shall we fast this year from things which keep us too preoccupied and distracted from God and neighbor? Perhaps it may be worthy and wholesome to fast from the sugars and desserts of our customary patterns, or from smoking or junk food. But it may be better to fast from excessive preoccupation with TV or video games in order to spend more time with family and friends, or from anything which gets in the way of service to neighbors. Postponing one’s first glimpse at the morning news in order to spend some time in prayer could give us a much better perspective on that news when we do hear/see it.

The fundamental commands given us as disciples/apprentices of Jesus the Christ are love of God and love of neighbor. Perhaps we really need to fast from whatever may prevent us from love of God, namely anything which becomes a false primary value in our hearts.

Many things impede our love of neighbor: the presumption of bad motives in the people for whom we work, the love of gossip which demeans the lives or dignity of coworkers, or the inability to offer praise for work well done or deserved accomplishments. We could fast from those attitudes of the heart.

Shall we fast this year from wasting time in day dreams or from rushing mindlessly from one thing to another because we do not properly value time? If we are thinking about everything except what is at hand, we do not value God’s gifts. If we are so busy that we are never really mindful of what we do, we are not attentive to the grace of the moment. Fasting from wasting time or undervaluing it could be healthy in our overly hectic multitasking modern world.

Shall we fast this year from whatever might feed our “demons”? Every one of us has a personal demon. I use the word in the ancient Greek sense of daimon, namely an inner urge over which we must struggle to exercise control. The urge may be for the good, but requires guidance and focus to be effective. Those who need to be needed, who need to be accepted and praised, who speak the truth to make ourselves look better in the eyes of others, who pray in public to be seen or to escape less enjoyable duties elsewhere … all those could be demons which might be essentially good, but which need better motivation and purpose.

The personal “demon” may also be for evil, namely born out of personal pride, sensuality, jealousy or misguided sexuality. Those are inclinations which could be dangerous and destructive. Perhaps we should “fast” and abstain from whatever situations nourish the negative demons in our lives. We neither love God nor neighbor if we are preoccupied with envy for the lifestyle of those around us, obsessed with others as sexual objects or desperate for recognition and acclaim.

There is so much from which to fast this year … and candy or even a cocktail before dinner is very far from the Lenten heart of it all.

Doctors will tell us that we need to exercise for our physical well-being and we also need to engage in spiritual exercises for the well-being of our soul. If anyone were to ask a teacher, coach or music instructor what to do to develop his or her ability, he or she would quickly answer, “Practice, practice, practice.” A teacher will assign homework, give tests and quizzes all to sharpen the intellect of the students.

On the playing field or in the gymnasium, a coach will quickly tell the players that the game is won or lost in practice. Coaches repeat plays over and over because the constant repetition of skills strengthens the player, instills the game plan and ensures proper response in the heat of competition. The artistic director can often tell how sharp a person’s performance will be by the practice sessions days and weeks before the performers are actually on stage. It is similar in the spiritual life.

We need to spend time on our spiritual formation. It is the most important aspect of our lives. It makes us fully aware of our earthly life with a focus on the life to come.

The most difficult aspect of developing our spiritual life is discipline. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. We come up with all sorts of excuses: “I’ll do it tomorrow,” the procrastinator’s statement: “Never do today what you can put off until tomorrow.” Another is: “I’m too tired.” This excuse never seemed to make an impact on my mother who would counter with, “You never seem to be too tired to have fun, go to the movies, etc.” The longer we put off those spiritual exercises, the longer we deny ourselves the fullness of life.

Spiritual discipline is easily accessible: pray daily, receive the sacraments, read sacred Scripture and spiritual writers and intentionally do good works for the sake of Jesus.

Forming a prayer life is extremely important. Many will ask, “Should I pray formally or informally?” The answer I quickly give is, “Both.”

Formal prayer helps us to connect our thoughts to some of the great spiritual masters who have developed special prayers – St. Francis of Assisi, St. Dominic, St. Theresa of the Child Jesus and St. Ignatius of Loyola. We share in their insights. One of the most powerful, formal devotional prayers is the rosary. What a comfort the rosary is and the mysteries offer insight into the life of Christ. Informal prayer is speaking to God in a conversational manner. You are speaking to a best friend who cares about you.

Frequent reception of the sacraments is a source of grace in our lives. The Eucharist is the summit of the sacramental life, to understand that we are actually receiving the Son of God. How could we not take advantage of that relationship? In eucharistic adoration, we deepen our intimacy with our Lord.

During this Lenten season, I will preside at all 14 reconciliation services throughout the archdiocese. We often forget why Jesus came into the world: to save us from sin. The sacrifice of Christ opens for us the way to heaven and that way is through Jesus Christ.

Examining our consciences allows us the opportunity to see our sins as failures in the loving relationship offered to us by God. We are not deserving of his forgiveness, yet he offers his mercy and love. The sacrament of reconciliation is a source of grace. When one participates in the sacrament, grace is received. It is little wonder that Pope John Paul II taught that these sacraments would be the source of renewal in the spiritual lives of the faithful. In our own spiritual lives, the life of graces strengthens us for the challenges that the world places before us.

If we desire to know Christ, then we must read sacred Scripture; the path to holiness takes place in the company of Jesus. No one had seen the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him. I have noticed throughout my years in the priesthood that many will begin reading popular spiritual writers who articulate the problems of modern life. Vatican II (Gaudium et Spes) stated: “…in the face of the way in which the world is developing today, there is an ever increasing number of people who are asking the most fundamental questions or are seeing them with a keener awareness: What is man? What is the meaning of pain, of evil, of death, which still persist in spite of such progress? What is the use of those successes, achieved at such a cost? What can man contribute to society, what can he expect from society? What will come after this life on earth?”

The grappling of these questions with modern spiritual writers will often lead those who are forming their spiritual life to the classics (St. John of the Cross, St. Theresa of Avila, etc.). The richness of the spiritual writers in the church is a true treasure.

Lastly, we need to intentionally unite our prayer to action. Our prayer life should lead us to share our time, talents and treasure for Christ’s sake. The action doesn’t have to be spectacular – visiting the sick, helping your pastor, teaching catechism or any of the Corporal or Spiritual Works of Mercy – but it must be done for Jesus.

In this manner, we are uniting our action to prayer.

So this Lenten season, practice, practice, practice because practice makes perfect. God bless you!

Everyday that goes by, every commercial on television, ads in magazines and newspapers indicate that we are somehow immortal. Sound bites and commercial minutes teach us that we can defy the clock and even cheat death. Such is the case in a relativist world, like the one in which we live, where there is no other reality than the one we conjure for ourselves.

Lent, however, begins with a clear and sobering vision of reality. We are reminded that we are not so big and immortal as we may think. Lent is not a time to frighten us into submission; but rather a time to call us to limitless truth and even more, subtle imagination. We begin by opening our own minds and hearts to something beyond ourselves.

That is, and always has been, for humanity a great moment of awakening. There is something beyond me. It is a moment of truth for the child who starts to reach out and grasp and touch, coming to the awareness of a world that exists around him or herself. Growth and maturation follow, in their appropriate order most times. But if we never grow beyond ourselves; if our boundaries are never stretched to include others; our world never becomes inclusive of the possibilities beyond “me” – O my, what a sadness is that!

The sadness of life lived in an abode of isolation, surrounded with bogus securities and illusory treasures, is not the true measure of human life and certainly not the plan that God has envisioned for us.

So, we need to come to the awareness that there is something beyond ourselves.

With the awareness of the something, comes an awareness of someone. If we are not made to live in miserable selfishness, then we are not made to be miserably lonely. There is someone who fills us with a profound sense of being loved and accepted and cared for.

Yes, we do find those people in our lives and, if we are aware enough we may fall in love. The gift of a creative and generative love between a man and a woman is another part of our human dimension. Human love always gives us glimpses into the reality of the Love of God.

Our Lenten reflection, at this point, must remain a personal attempt on the part of the human soul to go beyond itself and find the spiritual other who offers a complete sense of personal fulfillment and completion. That can only come from God.

I noted above that Lent is not a time to frighten us, but rather a time to call us to limitless truth and beyond that, subtle imagination.

Falling in love with God is a most incredible experience. It has been described as falling off a cliff and, while falling, enjoying the experience of flying. No fear, only delight. We’re not going to get hurt – nothing can harm us, nothing can hurt us. We are his and he loves each of us indescribably.

But wait, yes, we can describe it. It is the force of Lent – it is a love to the death. Not our death, but his death. His love for us takes him to the deepest darkest pits of hell to battle with the Evil One who would try to make us live in isolation, content with tawdry trinkets, unaware of the Love that could save us.

This is where our remembrance of our mortality comes in. We need to remember, each day, that we are loved beyond ourselves. We are created by God for heaven and it is Jesus, who by his Passion, death, and glorious Resurrection has opened the way for us. We are more than this pale existence of life. While there is so much in this world that attracts us to charm and beauty, curiosity and intelligence, happiness and sentiment; we cannot lose sight for a moment, that none of it endures forever. Scripture reminds us that “charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting.” (Prov 31:30)

It may be time that we enter deeply into Lent. Striving to move into a true relationship with Jesus Christ. We can open the doors of our hearts to let him in and rejoice in his presence. We can be reassured that when pain and suffering come – even when we offer ourselves to that pain and suffering in our own sacrificial giving – we cannot outdo what Jesus has already done for us. Grace is his gratuitous and lavish gift. It is a gift he will never take back or cancel. It’s a very clear thought about an old question from our catechism days. Q. “What did God make you?” A. “God made me to show forth his goodness and love, for me to know, love, and serve him in this world, and be happy with him in the next.”

It’s a very short life. You must remember that this is not where it ends. You are dust, into dust you shall return … but these bones are gonna rise again! Use Lent well. You don’t know when you are going back to dust.

Everywhere, I encountered priests, deacons, lay ministers and thousands upon thousands of faithful who are very much in love with the church. I received advice and support as the new religious leader, as well as suggestions from our school children on what fun things I should do as the new archbishop.

The students in one school put together their thoughts on fun things; oftentimes they were things that they liked to do. There was a pride in their communities and a desire to introduce a “newcomer” to the advantages of their areas. The older students concentrated on many of the cultural advantages while the younger students offered a favorite pizza parlor, a movie theater, the zoo – one young child even said I should visit her grandmother because she’s fun (I’ll bet she is! I’d probably get some milk and cookies).

Word got out that I like Cheetos, so I’ve received a number of big, family size bags (I think that I’m stocked through the summer). I was presented with gifts representing the various institutions and sections and towns of the archdiocese. There were blankets, shirts, cups and caps.

I was touched by the number of people who expressed their prayers for me in my new position. Again, the students gave cards, with spiritual bouquets (a number of various prayers said for a particular intention or a person). Many people told me that they pray for me every day; I can’t begin to tell you how much that means to me. I often joke that those prayers fill up a spiritual bank that I empty on behalf of the archdiocese every day and hope that I and others fill that spiritual bank with our prayers for the next day.

One thing that was common to all these meetings, services and encounters was the preparation that obviously was expended to make it successful. The great efforts made in preparation convey that the person, the event, the encounter is important, that it’s special and we want everything just right.

We enter into the liturgical season of Lent. Our archdiocesan theme for Lent is Season of Mercy. Every liturgy that we celebrate calls out for mercy: Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy. The celebrant introduces the rite by saying that in order to prepare ourselves for these sacred mysteries we should call to mind our sins. We pray what we believe.

St Vincent de Paul, a saint noted for his charitable works, tells us: “The church teaches us that mercy belongs to God. Let us implore him to bestow on us the spirit of mercy and compassion, so that we are filled with it and never lose it. Only consider how much we ourselves are in need of mercy.”

We prepare to receive mercy by first recognizing that we are in need of mercy, that we need to be forgiven. The figure of John the Baptist prophetically announces, “Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight his path!”

During Lent we are called to pray, fast and give alms in an effort to prepare ourselves, our lives, for the moment when the greatest sacrifice is made on our behalf. We cannot possibly expect to understand the great sacrifice if we allow everything to remain the same, if we fail to prepare ourselves.

Lent is a penitential season that offers to us an opportunity to cleanse ourselves from sin, to reach out to those who are in need and, in prayer, to be more aware of the presence of God in our daily lives.

Imagine looking upon the crucified Christ and saying, “You suffered for my sins and I don’t care” or “Jesus, you died for me so that I might have life and I don’t care.” “You, Jesus, offer me your friendship and love and I don’t care.”

Our ingratitude toward our Lord screams at us during the season of mercy. Despite our seeming indifference, God’s mercy is not extended to us out of power, but rather out of love. He loves us despite ourselves, like children who fail to realize all that has been given and sacrificed for us. Our God, the ever-faithful parent, still patiently and generously remains with and for us.

Likewise, we are called to extend mercy to our brothers and sisters out of humility because we recognize that the sacrifice accomplished for us by Jesus, God’s son, was beyond our human capacity, but his humble obedience fulfilled the Father’s will. Together we will be celebrating the sacrament of reconciliation in regional services throughout the archdiocese. It is an opportunity to examine our consciences, to name our sins and to receive God’s mercy. The late John Paul II declared that the spiritual renewal in the church, in the new millennium, would begin with two sacraments: reconciliation and the Eucharist. He fully understood that in order to grow in our relationship with God we must experience the intimacy he offers us through his mercy and love.

Make the commitment this Lenten season to seek his mercy and to offer mercy to others in his name. After our preparation, we will be ready to embrace the paschal mystery of Christ’s passion, death, resurrection and ascension, and deepen our love for him.

Lord have mercy on me a sinner.

At the end of our formation back in 1960, each of our names had been inscribed in the registers of that seminary, followed by the traditional phrase: Reversus est ad patriam ad evangelium praedicandum (“He returned to his native country to preach the Gospel”).

Without proof, it has always been my assumption that the words were borrowed from the practice of the older British seminary also in that city and from a tumultuous age long ago when indeed their graduates had indeed returned to England as priests who were often destined to martyrdom. Our meager sufferings were certainly miniscule in comparison!

During our reunion last month which coincided with the sesquicentennial celebration of the seminary itself, there were theological conferences on the nature and exercise of priestly ministry.

Naturally, given the context of Rome, we heard a strong emphasis on the importance of the apostolic tradition and the role played by that tradition in guiding and shaping our faith. Ministry in union with Peter and his current successor was a theme which permeated all the talks, and an audience with Pope Benedict XVI was a highlight of our time together.

We are in fact a church marked by that quality of “apostolic” and duly proud of our being rooted in the teaching of the apostles as lived and taught by that same church.

One afternoon, however, we happened to visit a church which had been seasonally decorated with an elaborate Christmas crèche at the very moment when a father had brought his young son to the display. The panoply was done in the classic Italian style, namely, expanded with figures of any number of villagers, each doing his or her traditional occupation: pizza makers, waiters, women washing clothes, men riding donkeys to market and a host of other activities. The man carefully picked up each image and explained the Christmas story to the wide-eyed child. The scene was a magnificent example of another part of the way the faith is passed on, not simply through formal preaching or catechetical classes, but through the words and example of countless generations of faith-filled parents.

On another occasion some years ago, while visiting the historic shrine to Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City, I watched a man and his young son, slowly and carefully making their prayerful way on their knees across the Plaza to the Basilica.

Again and again I am graced to witness the work of parents passing on the faith to their daughters and sons. It often begins with simply showing how to make the sign of the cross. This is a testimony to the fact that parents are the first and most important teachers of faith for our children!

Vatican II’s “Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation” addressed the triple manner in which our Catholic faith has developed over the centuries, not adding new elements but deepening our understanding of the mysteries we teach: 1) the contemplation and study of believers, 2) the intimate understanding experienced by believers of spiritual realities, and 3) the “preaching of those who have received through episcopal succession the sure gift of truth” (§8).  It was the then-Fr. Josef Ratzinger who pointed out some 40 years ago that the faith of believers comes first, and only subsequently does the formal teaching of the church’s pastors confirm that deepening conviction.

This reality is precisely the challenge of our church today when so many parents themselves don’t grasp or understand their Catholic Christian faith. The problem is intensified when parents drop children off for Sunday Mass without attending themselves. Behold the lament of every parish trying to support its educational mission!

Passing on the faith from one generation to another is a full family enterprise. Grandparents alone can’t do the job, no matter how often younger people look up to them and desire to imitate them … as so many letters from confirmation candidates continue to attest.

Our faith is truly apostolic, formally and officially, but also familially. That young father with his son at the crib in Rome remains a living testimony to the way faith is and must be passed from one generation to the next.