By the Rev. Peter M.J. Stravinskas
Homily preached by the Reverend Peter M. J. Stravinskas, Ph.D., S.T.D., at St. Pius X Church, Forked River, New Jersey, for the Confirmation of Nolan Santos.
“I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons,” wrote our most recent Doctor of the Church—the great St. John Henry Newman—in one of his most famous meditations. His words have come back to me as I recall how I first entered a classroom at Ocean County College more than a decade ago. It was my inaugural journey into an unknown sea, difficult to navigate, because I was struck by the general ignorance of the products of twelve years of public education, not to mention the total lack of a moral compass among the students.
However, I discovered that not a few students were genuinely open to a serious learning experience. I convinced the college administration to offer a Latin course after a hiatus of many years. Two of the students in that class were lifelong friends, Nicholas Bacchione and Nolan Santos. The first was eager to make up for lost academic ground; the second, not so much. And the latter bolted after a couple of weeks.
Cardinal Newman often spoke of the importance of what he called the “personal influence” of a teacher:
the personal influence of the teacher is able, in a certain way, to dispense with an academic system, but the system can in no way dispense with personal influence. With influence there is life, without it there is none; if influence is deprived of its due position, it will not be eliminated by those means, it will only spring up irregularly, dangerously. An academic system without the personal influence of teachers on pupils is an Arctic winter; it will create a frozen, petrified, cast-iron University, and nothing else.
My relationship with Nick went beyond the study of Latin and, over time, turned him not only into a better student but into a better Catholic. That “influence” begot a friendship, something not talked about much these days. And with a kind of domino effect, Nick’s friendship with Nolan led the latter to a more intimate relationship with Christ and his holy Church. They shared a friendship of virtue, as Aristotle said: “Now equality and likeness are friendship, and especially the likeness of those who are alike in virtue.”
Today, Nolan, you mark the culmination of your initiation into the life of the Church. In a certain sense, it is like a graduation ceremony, which marks the end of a process but also launches you into a new adventure. Today, the Holy Spirit will flood you with his grace; this is entirely his work in you, not your merit. It is a free gift from God to you. As Georges Bernanos ends his poignant novel, The Diary of a Country Priest, echoing the last words of the Little Flower: “Everything is grace!”
Nolan, the good God has given you the great gift of hunger and thirst for the holy truth and, likewise, the passion to share that gift with others. St. John Paul II reminded us in his encyclical, Redemptoris missio: “Faith is strengthened by giving it!” And even more to the point: the best thing one can do for another human being is to present Jesus Christ and his Church to them.
That is not an easy mission in this highly secularized society, but neither is it an “impossible mission.” It is the task of that “new evangelization,” and you must feel encouraged for that mission with this programmatic mantra resounding in your ears—a phrase heard in today’s Gospel: “Do not be afraid!”
You have been caught in a net of grace, Nolan. No one could have planned it: me at Ocean County College, Nick, you, and the Holy Spirit. Listen once more to Cardinal Newman’s profound meditation; take it to heart:
God has created me to do Him some definite service; He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission—whether I may ever know it in this life, I shall be told it in the next. Somehow I am necessary for His purposes, as necessary in my place as an Archangel in his—if, indeed, I may use so great a word. Therefore, I will trust Him. Whatever, wherever I am, I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him; if I am in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him; if I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him. My sickness, or perplexity, or sorrow may be necessary causes of some great end, which is quite beyond us. He does nothing in vain; He may prolong my life, He may shorten it; He knows what He is about. He may take away my friends, He may throw me among strangers, He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide the future from me—still He knows what He is about.
Today we make our own—in a very particular way—the venerable prayer of the Church to the Holy Spirit:
Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and enkindle in them the fire of your love.
V. Send forth your Spirit and they shall be created.
R. And you shall renew the face of the earth.
Let us pray. O God, who instructed the hearts of the faithful with the light of the Holy Spirit, grant us, by that same Spirit, to know what is right and always to rejoice in his consolation. Through Christ our Lord.
Finally, Nolan, you can do nothing better than to take our Most Holy Mother as a model and pattern for the work of evangelization, hence today we offer a Votive Mass in her honor, under the title of “Mother and Teacher in the Spirit.” Monsignor Luigi Giussani, founder of the great “Communion and Liberation” movement, says it succinctly and lovingly: “Veni, Sancte Spiritus; veni per Mariam. Come, Holy Spirit. Come through Mary.”
About the Author
Father Peter Stravinskas holds doctorates in school administration and theology. He is the founding editor of The Catholic Response and editor of Newman House Press. Most recently, he launched a graduate program in Catholic school administration through Pontifex University.