//Women at the Well Ministries – Facebook – 4/14/2024//
There is No Better Teacher
Saint of the Day – January 5 – Saint John Neumann, Bishop
Saint John Neumann (𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕙 28, 1811 – 𝕁𝕒𝕟𝕦𝕒𝕣𝕪 5, 1860)
Neumann took seriously our Lord’s words, “Go and teach all nations.” From Christ he received his instructions and the power to carry them out. For Christ does not give a mission without supplying the means to accomplish it. The Father’s gift in Christ to John Neumann was his exceptional organizing ability, which he used to spread the Good News. Today the Church is in dire need of men and women to continue in our times the teaching of the Good News. The obstacles and inconveniences are real and costly. Yet when Christians approach Christ, he supplies the necessary talents to answer today’s needs. The Spirit of Christ continues his work through the instrumentality of generous Christians.
Audio is the courtesy of Fransiscan Media
Saint of the Day – June 9 – Saint Ephrem
Saint Ephrem’s Story
Poet, teacher, orator, and defender of the faith, Ephrem is the only Syriac Christian recognized as a doctor of the Church. He took upon himself the special task of opposing the many false doctrines rampant at his time, always remaining a true and forceful defender of the Catholic Church.
Born in Nisibis, Mesopotamia, he was baptized as a young man and became famous as a teacher in his native city. When the Christian emperor had to cede Nisibis to the Persians, Ephrem fled as a refugee to Edessa, along with many other Christians. He is credited with attracting great glory to the biblical school there. He was ordained a deacon but declined becoming a priest. Ephrem was said to have avoided presbyteral consecration by feigning madness!
He had a prolific pen, and his writings best illumine his holiness. Although he was not a man of great scholarship, his works reflect deep insight and knowledge of the Scriptures. In writing about the mysteries of humanity’s redemption, Ephrem reveals a realistic and humanly sympathetic spirit and a great devotion to the humanity of Jesus. It is said that his poetic account of the Last Judgment inspired Dante.
It is surprising to read that he wrote hymns against the heretics of his day. He would take the popular songs of the heretical groups and using their melodies, compose beautiful hymns embodying orthodox doctrine. Ephrem became one of the first to introduce song into the Church’s public worship as a means of instruction for the faithful. His many hymns have earned him the title “Harp of the Holy Spirit.”
Ephrem preferred a simple, austere life, living in a small cave overlooking the city of Edessa. It was here that he died around 373.
Reflection
Many Catholics still find singing in church a problem, probably because of the rather individualistic piety that they inherited. Yet singing has been a tradition of both the Old and the New Testaments. It is an excellent way of expressing and creating a community spirit of unity as well as of joy. An ancient historian testifies that Ephrem’s hymns “lent luster to the Christian assemblies.” We need some modern Ephrems—and cooperating singers—to do the same for our Christian assemblies today.
//Franciscan Media//
Daily Reflection – A Teacher Who Loves Learning. . .
FEAR IS MY TEACHER – by Christopher Heffron
“Do you think you have pantophobia?”
“What’s pantophobia?”
“The fear of everything.”“That’s it!”
One of my favorite scenes from A Charlie Brown Christmas is the one in which our hero books some face time with Lucy, the resident psychiatrist. For a paltry nickel, she runs down a list of phobias from which Charlie might be suffering.
Cats? Staircases? Crossing bridges? Nope, none of those. The rest of the conversation went as follows:
True to her proactive nature, Lucy suggests Charlie busy himself to conquer his fears and curb his deepening, adolescent depression. (Oh, if life could be that simple!) While I’ve never suffered from pantophobia, I don’t remember a time in my life when I wasn’t cautious, tremulous, even afraid. My mom continues to tell this story with relish: When my sister, Lauren, first attempted to walk, my mother steadied her on her feet. Then Lauren charged ahead, arms akimbo like a pint-sized stuntwoman. Of course, she fell on her face and wailed, but even as a baby she was fearless.
Same scenario, four years later. My mom steadied me for my first few steps and then sat back. But I wouldn’t let go of the coffee table. With every step, I made sure my hands kept their grip, as though I had a preexisting fear of what might happen. It’s an instinct that has never left me. I don’t learn with abandon like my sister. I cope with challenges by envisioning every possible outcome and planning accordingly.
Some scenarios, however, I cannot control. One of my greatest fears is flying. My relationship with air travel is multilayered. For starters, I am simply not built for longer flights. I’m taller than average: long on legs, short on tolerance for tight spaces. In November of 2001, I was on a flight to Los Angeles to do a story. The second I sat down in my seat, my mind began to race. My palms were sweaty. My knees started to knock.
I closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe deeply. I was certain that we’d have engine troubles. Or that my luggage was on a flight to Belarus. Or that the pilot had one too many scotch and sodas at the airport Chili’s. I envisioned everything.
I was so deep into my Lamaze breathing that I didn’t notice the young woman who sat down two seats over. And she was in even worse shape than I was. Every noise made her jump. She buckled and unbuckled her seatbelt constantly. As the plane was approaching the runway, she pulled out a St. Christopher prayer card (which never dawned on this Chris—go figure). And as we took off, I saw her grip the card so tightly her fingers turned white. This heartened me. Even though I was filled with anxiety, there was somebody on the flight even more terrified.
We struck up a conversation not long after takeoff. She was going to her sister’s wedding. It turned out to be the first enjoyable flight I had taken. I even enjoyed the in-flight movie—Miss Congeniality—and I hadn’t thought that would ever be possible. God sends little remedies all the time and we rarely notice. Sometimes it can take the shape of conversation with a new friend or a bad Sandra Bullock movie. Fear is a great teacher, but God is a better one.
There will come a day—possibly even tomorrow—when I’ll be unsteady on my feet, cautious, afraid, just as I was when I learned to walk. But I’ll put one foot in front of the other, armed with a mantra that has been credited to Joan of Arc: “I fear nothing for God is with me.”