What might have been

From Slave to Priest: The Inspirational Story of Father Augustine Tolton
Sr. Caroline Hemesath

Fr. Augustine Tolton was the first acknowledged black priest in the United States. (James and Patrick Healy were ordained in 1854 and 1864 respectively; they were one-quarter black, and known during their lives as Irish, which their father was.) He was born in Missouri but went to school in Quincy, IL, and served as a priest both there and in Chicago, so he is a favorite son of Illinois. I won't repeat the whole story of his life here—you'll just have to read the book.

Two things in particular struck me as I read the book: one joyful, one sorrowful. The joyful part was seeing how Augustine grew in holiness through his persistence in pursuing his vocation against all obstacles, a reminder to me of what a great and undeserved gift the priesthood is for all of us who share in that life. The sad part was that so many of the obstacles he faced were utterly unnecessary—not just the persistent refusal to admit him to seminary (he was finally admitted to a seminary in Rome intended for training missionary priests), but the persistent obstacles thrown in his way when he was sent back to serve in the United States (much to his surprise; he had expected to be sent on African missions).

He was a magnificent priest, someone whose ministry was effective not just for black Catholics but for whites as well—which, sadly, lead to apparent jealousy and rivalry on the part of pastors of white parishes who were losing parishioners to his parish. (I fully realize the difficulty of discerning motives in a much different culture over a century later.) He also had to face a constant pressure from non-Catholic groups who would invite children from his to the activities of their own faith communities, drawing them away from their Catholic faith.

When he was transferred to Chicago, he faced many of the same problems there: rivalries with other parishes, temptations among his parishioners to leave the Catholic faith, and so on, to which was added the burden of poor health. He died in 1897 at the age of 43 during a heat wave. He is buried in Quincy, IL; I hope some day to pay a visit to his grave there.

I can only wonder what might have been if "Good Father Gus," as he was familiarly known, had been given much more support and encouragement than he actually received. Perhaps he could have done much more. Perhaps his persistance against the obstacles is what made him great in the first place.

The cause for his canonization was officially opened on Feb. 24 of this year. I could not help but think while reading the book that it was the story of a saint. I pray his cause proceeds rapidly and well.

Spirituality the Dominican way

The New Wine of Dominican Spirituality: A Drink Called Happiness, by Paul Murray, OP.

(I ran across this book in the gift shop of a Trappist monastery; God’s sense of humor is astonishing.)

What intrigued me most about this book when I first saw it was the idea of a distinctly Dominican spirituality. I thought there had to be such a thing, but I couldn’t find anything about it.

My metaphysics teacher in seminary once told my class that we were a bunch of Dominicans and didn’t know it. I told him after class that I couldn’t speak for everyone else, but that I was well aware of my own Dominican tendencies. I’ve often said that if I’d had the vocation to community life, the Dominicans would have been the first place I looked.

Much of the spiritual writing of the last few centuries has come from the Jesuits, who have done much to popularize and promote spirituality for everyone, not just for those in religious life. For this, the Church undoubtedly owes them a debt of great thanks. That’s not just lip service—there may be no group that has done more to help bring holiness to the world than the Jesuits of the 19th and early 20th centuries. And yet the methods and ideas that dominate many books on prayer and spirituality have never worked all that well for me.

I found this sentence on page 9 of the book: “When, over the years, Dominicans have found themselves confronted with detailed methods and techniques of meditation, and with long lists of what to do in meditation and what not to do, their reaction has almost always been the same: they instinctively feel that something has gone wrong.” I do not know that the author is claiming that something has gone wrong universally—I certainly don’t—and yet I find the point well taken.

So what goes in the place of those methods and techniques? Most of the rest of the book works its way around that question without quite ever answering it. It seems to have something to do with study, and in particular study as a way to know God better and therefore to proclaim Him better (preaching being the primary charism of the Dominicans, who are officially known as the Order of Preachers).

I can’t give the book an unqualified recommendation, even for those of us who need another way to pray. Although it mentions frequently the need for meditation and contemplation, I’m not sure that the author does not downplay them a little too much. And while I found nothing unorthodox in the book, there are places that I read with a little wariness.

That having been said, I’m still glad that I bought the book (and read it). The page 9 sentence alone might have been worth the price, but I also found a fair amount of food for thought and prayer throughout the book.

Caveat lector, but if you’re in search of an approach to spirituality that’s different from what’s commonly presented yet still based solidly in centuries of practice within the Church, this might be the book you need to get you pointed in the right direction.

Books from the homily

Below is a list of the books from my homily at Holy Family Adventure Weekend. Remember that reading books is a great way to come to know things about God; make sure you make good use of the sacraments and spend time in personal prayer so that you will come to know God Himself, which is infinitely better than knowing about God (important though that is).

Books for the more casual reader

Time for God, Jacques Philippe. If you read just one book on this list, read this one.

Catechism of the Catholic Church (2nd ed.) You know this one.

Compendium of the Catechism of the Catholic Church. Not as well known as the full CCC, though maybe it should be. It is cast in the tradition Q&A form of catechisms, and is less detailed but more accessible than its parent volume.

The Belief of Catholics, Ronald Knox. Knox was one of the most prominent Catholic writers in England in the first part of the 20th Century. This book is an admirable summary of what we believe and why we believe it. You can read the whole thing online here. Ignatius Press offers a print version.

Hail, Holy Queen, Scott Hahn. I confess it's been a while since I read this, but if memory serves, it is a good introduction to the place of Mary in Catholic thought and piety.

Jesus of Nazareth, Joseph Ratzinger (Pope Benedict XVI). I hesitate to write a review of a book by the Pope. Just read the book. (But be warned that the Holy Father does assume a certain level of familiarity with current debates in biblical studies.)

Life of Christ, Fulton J. Sheen. A profound meditation on the Life of Christ.

Theology for Beginners, Frank Sheed. A gentle but not shallow introduction to theology.

The Gospel According to St. John, Navarre Edition. The Navarre editions are good commentaries, for the most part, though I have to admit I now prefer The Ignatius Catholic Study Bible: New Testament for an entry-level commentary for the books of the New Testament. But the Ignatius one wouldn't fit in my book bags, so it didn't make it into the homily.

Books for serious study (which is not to say that you can't study books on the earlier list, too!)

Fundamentals of Catholic Dogma, Ludwig Ott. A concise one-volume summary of the Church's official teaching on nearly everything along with explanations of the belief, evaluations of the level of certainty associated with the teaching (defined doctrine down to pious opinion), and references to the appropriate sources. Not particular a book you'd sit down and read, but if you need to know what the Church teaches on a given point, you'll probably find it here. It was written in the 1950s, so it's lacking anything that's been defined and refined since then. There are also a few points at which well-informed people disagree with Dr. Ott's assessments. Still, there's no other book quite like it.

The Shape of Catholic Theology, Aidan Nichols, O.P. (Dominicans rule!) An overview of the process of Catholic theology: the role of philosophy, the use of the Bible, the resources of sacred tradition, aids to discernment, and a short history of theology.

Introduction to Moral Theology, Romanus Cessario, O.P. (Dominicans rule!) Just what it says; if you want to know how we know what a moral life in Christ is, this is a good place to start.

The Sacramental Mystery, Paul Haffner. Another seminary text, and one I refer to every now and then. It's got a good overview of the sacraments in general and a discussion of each sacrament.

Aristotle for Everybody, Mortimer Adler. It's hard to understand St. Thomas without understanding Aristotle, and it's hard to understand Catholic doctrine without understanding at least the vocabulary of St. Thomas. Ergo, if one wishes to understand Catholic doctrine, some acquaintance with Aristotle is quite helpful, and this book is one of the more painless way to make that acquaintance.

Summa of the Summa, St. Thomas Aquinas, O.P. (Dominicans rule!) ed. and annotated by Peter Kreeft. This book concentrates on the purely philosophical portions of St. Thomas's work (that is, it is not concerned with the Trinity, the Incarnation, sacraments, etc., which we know only through revelation [though we can then apply philosophical reasoning to them, which St. Thomas does]), but it is one way to begin making one's acquaintance with St. Thomas. I note that there are those who think Dr. Kreeft gets some things wrong, but we used this book in my Natural Theology course in seminary, and I'm confident it is far more right than wrong.

A Tour of the Summa, Paul J. Glenn. A brief summary of the Summa (well, briefer than the Summa itself, at least).


Of God and His Creatures, St. Thomas Aquinas, O.P. (Dominicans rule!) tr. and abridged by Joseph Rickaby, S.J. A shortened version of St. Thomas's Summa Contra Gentiles with commentary by Fr. Rickaby. There are places where I am afraid Fr. Rickaby gave in to the intellectual currents of the early 20th Century and edited out material he ought to have left, but there's still plenty here, and St. Thomas gives explanations a little more verbose than those in the Summa.

The Three Ages of the Interior Life, Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P. (Dominicans rule!) in two volumes. A pair of weighty tomes on the spiritual life. Great stuff, but he presumes a fair amount of background knowledge, particularly of the writings of St. Thomas.

God: His Knowability, Essence, and Attributes, Joseph Pohle, adapted and edited by Arthur Preuss. Msgr. Pohle and Mr. (? maybe Dr.--nothing I have says for sure) Preuss produced a series of texts that were, I believe, standard seminary fare in the early 20th Century. They are among the first places I turn to when faced with a more technical question in theology. The drawback for a modern reader is that the authors assume that a page full of Latin is no problem, nor are they concerned over the occasional outburst of Greek and Hebrew. They also assume some acquaintance with St. Thomas, though they also explain his teaching in depth (occasionally getting it wrong, IMHO, though not so often as to make me dislike the books). Google Books and the Internet Archive (www.archive.org/texts) have copies of the whole series.

Jesus Christ: Fundamentals of Christology, Roch A. Kereszty, O. Cist. This was a textbook from seminary; I recall the class fairly well, but not much about the book. When I actually have a Christology question, I consult the book on Christology by Pohle/Preuss, and I recommend it instead of this one, but I don't own a hardcopy of P/P on Christology (I read a library copy) and so couldn't bring it.

Novum Testamentum Graece, Nestle-Aland 27th ed. (a.k.a. NA27). The current standard edition of the Greek text of the New Testament. I have the large print edition, which is hard enough on the eyes as it is. I can't imagine trying to read the smaller edition.

Pocket Interlinear New Testament, ed. Jay P. Green, Sr. I don't particularly recommend this edition as it uses an inferior version of the Greek text along a revised version of the King James translation (I think this copy came from a garage sale or some such place where at least the price was right), but interlinears are handy to get an idea what the Greek text is that underlies a given passage without actually having to learn Greek.

JPS Hebrew-English Tanakh. Hebrew text of the Old Testament in parallel with an English translation. (Tanakh is an acronym from "Torah" [the five books of Moses], "Nevi'im" [prophets], and "Ketuvim" [writings = everything else].)

Church Music in History and Practice

Charles Winfred Douglas (not Winifred—this is a man, not a woman) was one of the most respected scholars of hymnody in the 20th Century. Church Music in History and Practice is a thorough introduction to the history of Church music up until the middle part of the last century. (Thomas Day's somewhat abrasive Why Catholics Can't Sing does much to explain the musical train wreck of the second half of the century.)

Douglas was an Episcopal priest, and the book can be at times a little tendentious toward Catholicism, but not nearly so much as to obscure its value. If you want to know why classical Church music sounds the way it does, both the text and the music, Douglas's book will explain.

Sadly, it's long out of print. Even more sadly, there's a revised edition (ca. 1962, also OOP) whose reviser was far too kind to the growing incursion of bad taste into Church music. Fortunately he seems to have restricted most of his revising to adding chapters at the end.

The good news is that used copies, even of the first edition, are available at fairly reasonable prices.

To Save a Thousand Souls

To Save a Thousand Souls, Fr. Brett Brannen

Truth in advertising (or reviewing): Fr. Brannen was my formation advisor in seminary. I learned an immense amount from him and count myself fortunate in being able to regard him as a friend. So this isn't necessarily the most unbiased of reviews.

That being said, I am still confident I'd give the book a good review even if I'd never met the author. His primary audience is the man who thinks he might have a vocation to the diocesan priesthood, but nearly anyone interested in how Catholic priests become priests, from the moment of the first hint of a call through the day of ordination, will learn much from this book.

I've been ordained nearly three years (it seems a short time and forever simultaneously), and I was going through the period of serious discernment nearly a decade ago. I wish this book had existed then, and I wish I'd had a copy. Some of what I found was simply confirmation that what I'd experienced was typical; some of it addressed the fears I had to work through in other ways; and some of it was simply advice that I eventually figured out on my own eventually, a process that would have been easier had someone been able to point it out to me at the time.

Advice about prayer? It's here.

Information about what to expect? It's here.

Warnings of pitfalls and how to avoid them? They're here, along with advice on how to get back up if you've fallen.

And all of it is straightforward, clear, and without pretense.

Buy a copy for yourself, and give one to someone you know who's discerning.

Special Edition: Sherlock Holmes meets the Catholic Church

(Full disclosure: I know the author of this book and my name is in the credits in the back.)

In this memorable year ’95 a curious and incongruous succession of cases had engaged [Holmes's] attention, ranging from his famous investigation of the sudden death of Cardinal Tosca—an inquiry which was carried out by him at the express desire of His Holiness the Pope.... “The Adventure of Black Peter”

From this intriguing hint, Ann Lewis has spun out not one but three tales of Sherlock Holmes and his involvement with things Catholic. (Arthur Conan Doyle was Jesuit-trained, BTW.) The result is Murder in The Vatican: The Church Mysteries of Sherlock Holmes


It has been some time (sadly) since I have drunk much from the original well, but the book doesn't have the uncomfortable feel that I get when I read something written in imitation of someone else's style. Holmes and Watson are demonstrably themselves, but seen through different authorial eyes. That's a good thing, not a bad one, and the result is an entertaining book.

Our Lady of Lourdes and St. Bernadette

February 11 is the Feast of Our Lady of Lourdes and the World Day of Prayer for the Sick.

St. Bernadette of Lourdes and I met at the end of her story. Her body is not in Lourdes; it's in the convent in Nevers, France, where she spent the last thirteen years of her short life (she died at age 35). I saw her incorrupt body there on a pilgrimage in 2001-2002 (over Christmas break). I do not remember any longer if I'd read The Song of Bernadette ahead of time or not. I tend to think not, since the story of her life seemed new to me as I heard it told at the convent. So my first encounter with her was a quiet one in a quiet place, hundreds of miles away from the place where she became famous.

Something about her caught my imagination in a way that few other saints have. I have tried on and off to understand what it is that draws me to her, and I have never gotten very far. Her life was very different from mine; apart from our common faith, I cannot think of too many things we have in common. But I feel somehow as if I understand her, and in understanding her I understand better Jesus and His Mother, whose chosen messenger was St. Bernadette.

A few years later I did get to Lourdes. I've been in the baths (very cold!) and still have some of the water. I have knelt and prayed the Rosary where St. Bernadette knelt and prayed at the first apparition. I'd still like to get back there someday.

In the meantime, though, I've acquired a fairly extensive collection of material on St. Bernadette and Lourdes--more than I have on any other saint except the Blessed Virgin herself, I'm pretty sure.

It's odd two of the best books about Lourdes are by a Jew (Franz Werfel, The Song of Bernadette) and a Presbyterian (Ruth Cranston, Miracle of Lourdes), but such are the facts of the matter. Much like St. Francis, St. Bernadette is able to reach across the borders of belief and speak to all sorts of people. (Perhaps there is a clue in there somewhere as to why I love her too. I'll have to think about it.)

Werfel's book is deservedly famous in its own right, and all the more famous for having been turned into an Academy Award winning-movie. The book is very readable and not overly fictionalized (Bernadette's father was perhaps not quite the hapless alcoholic it shows); the movie very watchable but somewhat more fictionalized, having a totally irrelevant love interest (though purely Platonic) thrown into the mix.

Cranston's book is non-fiction and does a decent job of giving the follow-up history of Lourdes after the apparitions, including some of the most famous cures.

When all is said and done, though, the best book I know of on the apparitions and on St. Bernadette herself is René Laurentin's Bernadette Speaks: A Life of St. Bernadette Soubirous in Her Own Words. Laurentin's aim is to cut through the layers of legend and present St. Bernadette as she was and her experiences as she lived through them. Fortunately, despite her lack of early education, St. Bernadette was a sharp observer with a strong memory and a gift for clear expression. I believe that it was reading this book that moved her up into my list of most favorite saints.

St. Bernadette is not a saint simply because Our Lady appeared to her. Others have seen her and have gone on to lead normal or, sadly, very troubled lives. St. Bernadette's life was troubled, too--in fact, Our Lady warned her: "I cannot promise you happiness in this life, but in the next"--but not because she drifted from the way of sanctity. She suffered because she wanted to be faithful to the graces she had received, and the death to self that requires is not easy.

Some say that the sisters at Nevers were harsh on her, and perhaps they were, but then they had seen the sad fate of the children who had seen Our Lady at LaSalette and were determined to keep St. Bernadette from making the same mistakes. She was a willing pupil, even when she found the lessons harsh. She bore physical and spiritual suffering with next to no complaint; she did what was asked of her; she was faithful to her calling. That's why she's a saint.