
By Michelle Taylor
“Come to me, all you that labor, and are burdened, and I will refresh you.” Matt.11:28One day when sharing with a pastor of many years the news of a friend’s divorce, he sadly retorted; “And how do you think I feel, counseling couple after couple, blessing their marriages, and then watching many of those marriages hit the rocks?…”
The world has sadly turned away from God and it has become in many respects a ferocious river taking with it all that it can engulf and destroy within its torrential waters.
The great saint and mystic, doctor of the Church Catherine of Siena (1347-1380), while in ecstasy, dictated an amazing book called The Dialogue. Many know it as The Dialogue of St. Catherine.
In this book God the Father describes the world and its ways as a raging torrent, and His Son, Jesus Christ, as the “bridge” on which we must climb if we wish to avoid inevitable destruction. By getting out of the river of perdition and standing on the Bridge, we are able to cross over safely from one shore–earthly life–to the other–eternal life.
Our Good Lord invites us to get off the torrent and onto the safe Bridge, but we fear going against the “current,” and making the effort and the commitment of climbing onto the safe pass.
The Father speaks of this “bridge” as made from the solid virtues and example of His divine Son. This Bridge is STRONG, and SAFE. And though Our Lord Jesus Christ returned to the Father, He left us His life-giving teaching in His Church.
This teaching, says God the Father to St. Catherine, “…has been verified by the apostles, and proclaimed in the blood of the martyrs. It has been lighted up by the doctors, attested to by the confessors, and committed to writing by the evangelists…” 1
“So you see,” continues the Father, “…I have shown you my
way, which is truth, and the devil’s way, which is falsehood. These are
the two ways, and both are difficult.” 2
But though both ways are indeed difficult, the way of the Bridge has
the promise of divine refreshment and final victory, “How foolish and
blind,” says the Father, “are those who choose to cross through the
water when the road (bridge) has been built for them! This road is such a
joy for those who travel by it that it makes every bitterness sweet…
and every burden light.” 3But, again, like children, we are easily seduced by water. And even though the water is icy-cold and destructive, we take the plunge.
The “Bridge” as a Burning Heart.

In the seventeenth century, God Our Lord again appeared to another saint, Margaret Mary Alacoque. He complained to her that “hearts had grown cold.” and, as a remedy, He revealed to her His burning heart.
He spoke to her of His great desire to be loved by men and of diverting souls from the path of ruin into which Satan hurls entire crowds. It was this wish which led Him to reveal His Heart, with all its treasures of love, and grace.
To
those who practice this devotion to Our Lord’s exposed heart, and
enthrone an image of Him thus pictured in their homes, He makes twelve
amazing promises:
1. I will give them all the graces necessary for their state in life.
2. I will establish peace in their families.
3. I will comfort them in their trials.
4. I will be their secure refuge during life, and, above all, in death.
5. I will shed abundant blessings on all their undertakings
6. Sinners will find in My Heart an infinite ocean of mercy.
7. Lukewarm souls will become fervent.
8. Fervent souls will rapidly grow in holiness and perfection.
9. I will bless every place where an image of My Heart shall be exposed and honored.
10. I will give to priests the gift of touching the most hardened hearts.
11. The names of those who promote this devotion will be written in My Heart, never to be blotted out.
12. I promise thee,
in the excessive mercy of My Heart, that My all-powerful love will grant
to all those who receive Holy Communion (having previously gone to
Confession if aware of mortal sin) on the First Friday of nine
consecutive months, the grace of final penitence; they shall not die in
My disgrace nor without receiving their Sacraments; My Divine Heart
shall be their safe refuge in this last moment.
Let us take the Bridge. Let us enter the Refuge.
Above all, let us show our children the way to the Bridge by teaching them early about Christian virtue, self-discipline and good manners, by igniting in their hearts and minds a thirst for Scripture and Catholic doctrine, by habituating them to prayer (according to their capacity as they grow) and the life-giving Sacraments, and by dazzling them with all that is beautiful in God’s nature, centuries-old Catholic culture and history.
We couldn’t enroll them in a better “Insurance Policy” for happiness and safety. Let’s take the upward “plunge” and do what it takes to climb the bridge and enter the burning Heart of our all-powerful Father. It surely pays–here and beyond.
Notes:
1 Catherine of Siena, The Dialogue, The Classics of Western Spirituality, p.692 Ibid, p.673 Ibid, p.68
Also Read:
- June: The Month of the Sacred Heart of Jesus
- Irresistible Novena to the Sacred Heart of Jesus
- Act of Reparation to the Sacred Heart of Jesus
William,
Archbishop of York, is a rather intriguing saint due to the conflicts
surrounding his “on again, off again” reign as archbishop, due in part
to its timing. It was during a period of great civil unrest in England
known as the Anarchy (1135-54) when the armies of the two cousins –
Stephen of Blois and Empress Matilda – were fighting each other for the
English crown. William was the nephew of Stephen of Blois, which
launched his ecclesiastical career right into the middle of the
political conflict.
However,
the Cistercians of Yorkshire, who had supported Henry Murdac, the
Cistercian Abbot of Fountains Abbey, in the election, with the support
and help of the renowned St. Bernard of Clairvaux, succeeded in accusing
him of simony, sins against chastity, and intrusion, resulting in his
deposition by Pope Eugenius III (also a Cistercian) and the
corresponding appointment of Henry Murdac to head the diocese in
William's place. However, the clergy of York refused to admit Murdac
into the city and he was forced to withdraw and retire to Beverley for
the remainder of his days. He died in 1147.
Anthony
Maria Gianelli was born in 1789 into a middle-class family living near
Genoa in the north of Italy. As a child, people were often struck by his
gentle nature, industriousness, and extraordinary intelligence. When he
came of age, the lady who owned the farm his family lived on became his
generous benefactress and financed his schooling and entry into the
ecclesiastical seminary in Genoa.
One
day, when Saint Mechtilde was praying and trying to think of some way
in which she could express her love of the Blessed Mother better than
she had done before, she fell into ecstasy.
Norbert
was born in the year 1080 in Xanten, Germany, to a noble and wealthy
family. Norbert lived a life of pleasure until one day he lost
consciousness after being thrown from his horse during a thunderstorm.
He awoke an hour later, and said, “Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?”
“Turn from evil and do good: seek after peace and pursue it,” came the
heavenly reply.





Boniface
was born Winfrid around the year 680 to a respected and noble English
family, and it was to his father’s great displeasure that, at the young
age of five, his son devoted himself to the monastic life.
On
October 15, 1563 Francis Caracciolo was born into a noble Italian
family. When he was twenty-two, he developed a skin disease similar to
leprosy. The disease was incurable, but Francis vowed that if he was
healed, he would dedicate his life to God and the service of others. He
quickly recovered after his vow and the healing was reported to be
miraculous.
When
Mwanga began to see the Catholics as a threat to his rule, he sentenced
them to death. He ordered his pages into a great room and ordered the
Catholics to separate themselves from the rest. Then he asked if they
intended to remain true to their faith, even when faced with
persecution. “Until death!” they responded.

If
an impenitent humanity has every reason to fear every catastrophe, a
repentant humanity has every reason to expect every mercy. Indeed, for
God’s mercy to be poured on the contrite sinner, his repentance need not
have run its full course. Even while still in the depths of the pit, if
the sinner but sincerely and earnestly turn to God with a budding
repentance in his heart, he will immediately find help, for God never
disregards him.
God
is charity, so the simple mention of the Most Holy Name of Jesus evokes
love. It is the infinite, limitless love that drove the Second Person
of the Most Holy Trinity to become man. It is the love expressed in the
utter humiliation of a God Who comes to us as a poor infant, born in a
cave. It is the love shown in those thirty years of hidden life spent in
the humility of the strictest poverty, in the three grueling years of
evangelization, when the Son of Man traveled highways and country roads,
climbed mountains, crossed valleys, rivers and lakes, visited cities
and villages, walked through deserts and hamlets, spoke to rich and
poor, dispensing love and, for the most part, reaping ingratitude. It is
the love manifested in that supreme moment of the Last Supper when,
after generously washing the feet of His apostles, He instituted the
Holy Eucharist. It is the love of that last kiss taken from Judas, of
that poignant look at Peter, of those insults received and born
patiently and meekly, of those sufferings endured until the last drop of
blood was shed. It is the love in that last pardon of Dismas, which
enabled the dying thief to steal heaven. Finally, it is the love
manifested in the supreme gift of a heavenly mother for a wretched
humanity! Each of these episodes has been painstakingly studied by the
learned, wondrously reproduced by artists, devoutly contemplated by
saints, and, above all, incomparably celebrated in the Divine Liturgy.
Many
and beautiful are the invocations used by Holy Mother Church in
reference to Our Blessed Lady. Yet, every single one of these clearly
underscores her relationship to God’s love. Each celebrates either a
gift of God to her, to which she was perfectly faithful, or some special
power or influence she has with her Divine Son.
Although
not much is known about these two early martyrs, we do know that
Marcellinus was a priest in Rome and Peter was an exorcist who worked in
close association with him. They were both renowned for their zeal and
piety and attracted many followers to Christ.
Íñigo
was born in the eleventh century and was reportedly a native of Bilbao
in northern Spain. Early in life he was drawn to a life of solitude and
left to become a hermit. Later, he traveled to Aragon where he received
the religious habit of a monk at San Juan de Peña, eventually being
elected Prior. His term completed, Íñigo was again drawn to the hermit’s
“desert” and he resumed his hermetical life in the mountains of Aragon.
However, in 1029, King Sancho the Great sought out and was able to
convince Íñigo to become the Abbot of a group of monks in a monastery at
Oña. The monastery, founded by Sancho's father-in-law, was in need of
reform, and he wanted Íñigo to lead the process.

The
story of the Visitation of Our Lady to Saint Elizabeth is well known:
When Saint Gabriel appeared to Our Lady during the Annunciation, he
informed her that her cousin, Saint Elizabeth, was with child. Our Lady
traveled with Saint Joseph to Saint Elizabeth’s house, to care for her
until her son, Saint John the Baptist, was born. Although Our Lady had
already conceived the Child Jesus, she had not told anyone.
However,
if the knowledge of the presence of God is a virtue and Saint Joseph
was a greater saint, one would think he also would have perceived the
Incarnation.
They
suggest that he was entirely lucid in his mother’s womb. Thus, he
appraised the sacredness of the Mother of God and the Incarnation, heard
Our Lady’s voice, felt the presence of God and leapt for joy. At that
moment, he was sanctified.
The
feast of the Visitation of the Virgin Mary to her cousin St. Elizabeth
was established throughout the Church in the thirteenth or fourteenth
century.
Andy and the Lion, by James Daugherty

