August 2, is one day that is remembered by all Franciscan Friars, Poor Clare sisters, and all Third Order members, whether Friars, Sisters, or Laypersons; the Feast of Out Lady the Angels.
St. Francis of Assisi, came across the chapel as he wandered through the Italian countryside. He and his brother friars felt the Holy Spirit moving them. They realized that the Portiuncula, its Italian name, was special. They built simple huts around it, prayed and worshipped in it.
Eventually, long after Francis and his brethren had passed on; the chapel was enclosed in a magnificent basilica. Crowds of Franciscans, and laypersons, from the four corners of the earth still come to visit and worship the Lord. And the Lord touches the hearts of all who come.
Places of worship are built in many different ways, each is unique. In each one, though, is the potential to encounter the Living God. Be open to that potentiality.
I am on Cape Cod this Thanksgiving Day, with my wife, her mother and some of her siblings, nephews and nieces. After a wet drive from the South Shore the night before, this day has been sunny, clear, crisp and cool. In the morning we went to the local Catholic church, and attended a Thanksgiving Mass. My wife, Peg’s father passed away in October, so after Mass, we visited his grave.
evening’s dinner. Food is being prepared, table cloths spread out, and the table has been set. With all this activity, I have begun to reflect on the meaning of Thanksgiving Day. Some trace it roots to the English Reformation, during the time when the Puritans had strong influence over the Church of England. Holy days were done away with; to be replaced by Days of Fasting during times of national tragedies, or stress, and Days of Thanksgiving for good harvests and national victories. The Pilgrims brought these practices with them to New England. Various colonies and then states would proclaim days of Thanksgiving. Abraham Lincoln would issue a presidential proclamation, establishing Thanksgiving as a holiday throughout all the states.
Welcome! Here is a cup of coffee, hot off the Keurig. Today, I want to share experiences from last weekend. Last Saturday, the second Saturday of the month, my Secular Franciscan fraternity holds its monthly meeting. It is held at Saint Anthony’s Shrine, located in downtown Boston, MA. I have been trying to attend this meeting more regularly; so, I was up early in the morning, grabbing a commuter train. I transferred to the subway, and got off at Downtown Crossing, Boston.
been a while since I had made such a walk about. The biggest change in the neighborhood, is the Millennium Tower. Built in the space where the famous Filene’s Department Store once stood, it is a very, very tall high-rise building. It houses department stores, offices, and condominium apartments. I have not been around 
the entire building, so I was amazed at the changes I saw! One thing that really stood out for me; was the number of coffee shops that are in neighborhood now! I am not talking about an increase in the number of Dunkin’ Donuts and Starbucks; but places like Caffe Nero. One can imagine the amount of caffeine flowing through the veins of the residents and office workers!
One stop that I had to make was the Bromfield Pen Shop, which is located, where else? On Bromfield Street! It has the largest collection writing instruments, including fountain pens, I have ever seen. And the most expensive collection of pens I have ever seen! I like looking over their pens, and the notebooks and journals they sell also. Sadly, I have only been able to purchase a Pelikano Junior, a very sturdy plastic fountain pen. I purchased a new box of ink cartridges for it, and with a wistful look behind me, left the shop.
I continued to walk up Bromfield St., towards Tremont St., which forms one border of the Boston Common. My intention was to visit the 
and separated by stalls. I had heard that the cathedral church was going to be renovated, and I wanted to see the result. When I entered the main church, I was stunned! Gone were the pews, the memorial plaques on the walls, the altar rail. It was wide open space, with stackable, plain chairs arranged for some service. The interior was flooded with natural light, streaming from the skylights above. And in the center, was a labyrinth. Music flooded the church, as an organist was playing at the organ in the chancel of the Cathedral. I still had a very peaceful experience during my time there.
celebrating a Profession. A young man, Bobby Hillis, was going to profess his intention to live the Gospel life, in the spirit of St. Francis of Assisi, by following the Rule of the Secular Franciscan Order. For about a year and half, he has been in formation, learning what it means to be a Franciscan; in his personal life; his life in the Church; his life in the world. After the homily, before the Franciscan priest, who was our celebrant, and our fraternity Minister, and the whole Fraternity, he declared:
In the early 13th century, a tradesman is walking down a road in the Umbrian valley of Italy. He is bent over under the weight of the tools of his trade on his back. It is not just the weight on his back that bends him over; it is the weight on his soul. He is a God fearing man, he is a regular church attendee, he prays daily. Yet, he is afraid that he will never encounter Christ, he will never entire the Kingdom of God. He hears priests preaching that only those who enter the priesthood, those who are monks and nuns, sequestered in their monasteries and convents; will see the face of God. And people like him, no matter how hard they strive to live a holy life; will only see Christ after eons in purgatory, being cleansed of their sins.
Musings From St. Anthony's Walnut Tree 