Surfing is one of the many forms of holy leisure that draws us into a deeper love of God. It inculcates a sense of wonder when you see the seemingly endless sea before you and the myriad of mysterious creatures that call it home. From the flocks of pelicans that glide just across the surface of the waves to the dolphins who surprise you with their acrobatic playfulness- all this occurring as the shades of color reflecting from the water’s surface gradually change from blues and greens to peach, violet, and amber with the rising and setting of the sun. The breath of God that hovered over the watery chaos at the beginning of creation and formed the cosmos is ultimately the source of the solar energy that causes wind, which causes the waves. The most remarkable moment is when one realizes that God is inviting you to not only observe the beauty before you, but to enter it- as if He is saying “Go my child, play in the mystery of my creation.” Surfing a wave is an opportunity to humbly enter harmony with the creative Word, and if you try to control it, you will quickly learn the taste of sand. ​

                                                    by Brother Thomas Aquinas

​“I am the vine, and my Father is the vine
grower. He takes away every branch in me
that does not bear fruit, and every one that
does he prunes so that it bears more fruit.”
— Jn 15:1-2

                                                                                                  ​
Thus begins one of the most well-known passages of the Gospels. Full of imagery and
metaphor, there are numerous places from which to draw great wisdom and insight.
One detail that perhaps receives less than its share of attention is the choice to describe
the Father’s activity as pruning the branches. There are many parables that incorporate
plants in some fashion, such as the barren fig tree, which is tended and fertilized so that
it may produce fruit in the future. What, then, are we to learn from the image of being
pruned?

In the horticultural sense, to prune a tree or other plant is to cut away parts that are
diseased, decaying, or dead. This naturally involves careful application of sharp tools
and leaves the plant with an open wound that needs time to heal. A good gardener also
knows that it is preferable to make small cuts to young plants, rather than waiting until
the situation gets out of hand. If a tree left to its own devices grows into a malformed
mess of poorly placed branches, it may reach a state in which the only means of
preserving it is to remove a substantial portion of the plant.

In the spiritual sense, the Father prunes each of us by removing those parts of our lives
or aspects of our behavior in which we are diseased. Small habits, if left untended, can
develop into serious character flaws. Analogously, though venial sin does not destroy
sanctifying grace in the soul, it “disposes us little by little to commit mortal sin” (CCC
1863) and bring spiritual death upon ourselves. Yet, even if we manage to avoid the
graver matters, it would be foolish to remain complacent in venially sinful behavior. All
sin, regardless of severity, works against the flourishing God desires for each of us.
We are called not to mediocrity but rather to perfection. Indeed, the Father prunes us
not to achieve mere survival but to cultivate growth that allows us to bear fruit. This is a
painful process, as we must learn to let go of what holds us back from our full spiritual
potential.

In some cases, we may need to renounce true goods in favor of something else to
which God is calling us as individuals. To stretch the analogy a bit: wine and figs are
both valuable, but a fig tree is not meant to produce grapes. Unlike the vine or fig tree,
which are passive to the gardener’s diligent care, we can choose either to cooperate
with or to resist God’s work in our lives. Ultimately, each of us must accept the Father’s
pruning if we desire to flourish as the “plants” He has made us to be.

The Heart
By Br. Stella Maris

The heart is a sign of life and love. When we see a heartbeat on
a sonogram, we are joyful. It is the heart that pumps lifeblood through
our bodies. The heart is also a sign of love. We often replace the word love
with a heart in our messages when we express our love. We feel a certain
warmness of heart when we think about those we love, whether it’s our
family, friends, spouse, or God and His goodness. This month of June we
glory in the Sacred Heart of Jesus. His Sacred Heart is also a sign of life
and love, divine life and divine love. Divine life because through pouring out
His blood in His Passion we are freely given grace, which is a share in the
divine life. A sign of divine love, a love ceaselessly pursuing us, His
beloved, to free us from our slavery to disordered desires, selfishness, and
death. When we receive the Eucharist, the same body, blood, soul, and
divinity that animates the Sacred Heart of Jesus, our hearts
are transformed. Let us then go forth into the world and seek out
those whose hearts are hardened by vice or suffering, with only a flicker of
life left in their heart and invite them to be transformed by the overflowing
measure of grace poured out for them by the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

By a “Dominican in Spirit”
​








I was meditating on the stations of the cross this weekend and
on the 5th station I thought how everyone wants to have the tree
of life, from Eden, to nourish them but when we find out that the 
tree of life is actually the cross we run from it. 
 
Simon wanted anything else but to be dragged into the passion
story by carrying Christ's cross. He had children, he didn't live
there, he had just come into the city, he wasn't at the condemnation,
didn't know who was in need of his help, didn't want to be beaten 
or die (who would care for his children - legit concerns) and was 
not part of the story until that moment. He just happened to be 
there and was presented with the tree of life which he did not 
recognize & ordered to help a man whom he did not recognize & 
tried to reject the task.
 
He likely spent the rest of his life thanking God for dragging him
into that service, probably kicking and screaming (like the rest of us).
Luke tells us in Acts that his children were given great honor/respect
in the early church for their father's actions.
 
We are so stupid, evil and self-willed. It is a wonder that such a Love
exists that would willingly suffer and die for us ungrateful, unwilling,
selfish, conniving bastards (it is somewhat easy to see how many can
doubt such a love exists)....And yet such Love does exist and His
Name, JESUS CHRIST, is above all other names. A name at which, some
day, every knee of every creature will bend in homage, in heaven, on 
earth and under the Earth.
 
Glory be to God that He chose us to receive His gifts of copious grace.
May He never stop striving to make us worthy of this great gift, despite
our (on my part at least) unwilling stubbornness.
 
I do not deserve His love, my wife, my family, my abilities, my wealth
(more than some less than others), my experiences, my health, my
senses, my faith or for that matter your friendship, yet, miraculously 
I have them; despite all of my past betrayals. God grant that I keep this 
in mind every day for the rest of my life.

​

                                                                                             






​ By Sr. Diana Maria


“…where moth and rust doth corrupt,” I muttered to myself while furiously mopping up a spilled glass of wine.

I was mocking myself for my attachment to the lovely things I’d collected over the years: most especially, in this case, certain items in the path of the small flood: a diminutive hand carved Nativity set, the tiny faces of which were breathtakingly expressive. It was sitting on top of a small green Primitive antique table, maybe 200 years old.  The little green table happened, in turn, to be situated above my 9’x7’ handmade Iranian rug.
​
My first thought as the wine glass tipped in slow motion had been, “Thar’ she all goes!”
Because I’ve had the increasing feeling that I have somehow managed to store up way too much treasure on earth, to all of which I am way too attached.
​
I would be quick to note in my own defense that I have been diligently adding to my store of treasure in heaven at the same time as I have been accruing my worldly goods, and in the usual ways: prayer, service, obedience to the Commandments, attending Mass faithfully and frequently; but I had a certain uneasy feeling that there would come a time when the two---storing my treasures on earth and storing my treasure in heaven—would come to be at odds with one another. A show-down, if you will.
And I remember Bob Dylan as he sang, “You’re gonna have to Serve Somebody!... well, it may be the Devil…or it may be the Lord, but you’re gonna have to Serve Somebody--”

I often identify with the rich man who asks Jesus what he must do...; Jesus tells him to obey all the commandments….  The young man says that he’s already done those things, “what more should I do?” and Jesus tells him to sell all he owns and give to the poor…
“ When the young man heard this statement, he went away sad, for he had many possessions.” Matthew 19:22 (NAB) 

                                                                          *********
Not too long ago I saw Mary Poirier (wife of singer songwriter and evangelist John Michael Poirier) say in a Youtube clip from their ministry Leave the Light On, “I want to be a saint.”*

                                                                            *Gasp*

A Saint?  I was pretty sure that that would mean giving up, like, ownership of all my little treasures. And as I told a priest not long afterward while discussing it in confession: “A saint…?  I've been perfectly happy trundling along toward purgatory like everyone else!”

It was just interesting to me that three of the Things most precious to me had been in the path of that spilled wine.
And I observed my own reaction: How I had jumped to attention, all action to mitigate the damage, and yet at the same time I was chuckling ruefully to myself:
“… but store ye up treasure in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt….”
And, as the nanoseconds ticked by, it was revealed that:
 The red wine was not in contact with the wooden nativity long enough to ruin its original stain;
Nor had the wine’s acidity damaged the original paint on my primitive antique table;
And as to the rug? The wine hadn’t even touched it.
But somehow, suddenly, a slight, graceful, shift of consciousness,
and they were all just Things, after all.
And maybe, just maybe, I could give them up.
And I felt a little lighter and closer to heaven.

Maybe I want to be a Saint.