Ecumenical Rosary Group

10/04/2026

On this Feast of St. Francis, I find myself wondering: What legacy will we leave?

Francis of Assisi died 800 years ago, and yet this little poor man from a small town in Italy continues to be lovingly remembered throughout the world. He lived during a time where the aristocrats fought against those whom we would see as an emerging middle class, as they attempted to improve their lives which had long been under the subjugation of the elite. It was a world in which countries fought brutal battles, with massive loss of life, due to differing religious and cultural beliefs.
Into this chaos Francis walked barefooted with no wealth, no armies, and seeking no power. He called the poor, and all the marginalized, his sisters and brothers. His family extended to the sun, the moon, water, earth, the animals within it…indeed he embraced all of creation as being brought forth from the same Father. It may seem to be the approach of a simple religious fanatic, but, no matter how you look at it, 800 years later his cause is known by millions, whereas most would be hard pressed to know even the names of those who caused so much suffering in their pursuit of power.
There is some kind of inherent understanding within human beings that recognizes the beauty of one who moves with humility to help the lives of others. Conversely, there is also the understanding that the cruelty, selfishness and harm caused by those in power will be left behind and seen as grave misdeeds once their authority has dwindled away. History is full of those who exploited the weak; those who built walls; and those who focused on fear to divide humanity. These are not the leaders who are remembered with honor. They instead fade away into obscurity, their existence becoming tales of warning for future generations on how not to treat others.
So, today, as we celebrate the charity, humility, joy and compassion of Francis of Assisi, we might take some time to think about our own journey on this earth. What will remain from our existence once we are no longer here?

Will there be deeper divisions, or greater fraternity?
More wounds, or some small places that healed?
A poorer earth, or a corner of creation that flourished because we cared for it?
Will someone know more kindness, dignity, mercy, or love because our lives crossed theirs?
Eight hundred years after he left this earthly existence, Saint Francis still whispers the same invitation:
Love greatly. Live gently. Leave behind peace.
Happy Feast of St. Francis.
Pax et Bonum.

10/03/2026

Allowing the Gospel to Read Us

Francis of Assisi saw the Gospels as far more than just good spiritual reading. The Gospels lit a light along the path he strove to follow. The words within spoke not only of a world lived many centuries before his birth, but rather a call to a way of life. It was within the Gospels that he listened to God as to how he was to form his community when others started to follow him. These three passages helped to shape this group in the early days of their beginning:

“If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor… then come, follow me.” (Matthew 19:21)

“Take nothing for your journey, no staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money…” (Luke 9:3)

“If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” (Matthew 16:24)

In most books, we read the words and decide if their meaning is something we wish to admire or relate to. Francis not so much read the Gospels, but rather allowed the Gospels to read him. In these books he sought to learn how he could more honestly, more fully and more freely he could express his love to God. Thus, he saw in three passages that he was being asked to remove obstacles, such as those things which would put focus on that which was material, and thus he could focus on the spiritual to help him follow the path of the Jesus he found within the Gospels. The words, which originally spoke to those many years before, and in land very foreign to his home, took seed within his heart and bloomed to new purpose for this young friar.

We, as Franciscans seeking to emulate the compassion and spirituality of Francis, are called to know the Gospels in an intimate way. Intimate in that we, like Francis, are to allow the Gospels to read us, and open our hearts to their meaning, and our minds to the way we can grow as greater followers of Christ. As we read Scripture we can take some time to consider what they are saying about the people so long ago. What went through their minds when they heard someone left their nets to follow Jesus, or someone under Roman occupation to hear the command to love one’s enemies? These people had complexities in their lives and needed to discover what these teachings were saying to them. We too need to take within the message and allow it to move through our thoughts, our hopes, as well as our weaknesses and struggles. If we allow it, as Francis did, we will see how we too may remove the obstacles which are keeping us from being in a greater relationship with God. This is one reason spiritual reading, particularly the daily reading of the Gospels and the New Testament, is so important to our own spiritual growth.

Who is the wounded person lying beside the road today? Who are the lepers whom our society prefers to keep at a distance? Who are the people sitting outside our gates while we feast comfortably within? What possessions, fears, prejudices, resentments, or desires for security keep us from following Christ more freely? When Jesus says, “Follow me,” where is he asking me to go? This is where spiritual reading becomes something more than acquiring knowledge, and we allow the words of Scripture to enter into conversation with our lives.

When we come across something in our reading that makes us stop (perhaps a single verse or even a single word) we can stop and ask ourselves some questions:

Why did these particular words remain with me?

What might Christ be showing me?

What needs to change in me?

What am I being asked to carry from this prayer into the lives of others?

In doing this, we begin to carry the Gospel with us. Franciscans have a core tenet of carrying Gospel to life and life to Gospel. The practice of making these readings a part of being we become more adept to hear God as we move throughout our interactions in the world. We can truly become those who move to announce the Good News.

09/23/2026

Reconciling with God

Today, September 23rd, is the feast of St. Padre Pio of Pietrelcina. Thinking about this particular saint’s life, it can be easy to allow our focus to remain solely on the extraordinary events of his life. He is famously known for bearing the wounds of the stigmata for many years, as well as a number of miraculous events which surrounded his life and his ministry. When we, however, look beyond all of these amazing events, we can find something even more profound in the life of this friar. The foundation of his life, faith and spirituality was his desire to remain in conversation with God.
Padre Pio possessed a deep devotion to the Eucharist, as well as an abiding love for the Blessed Virgin Mary, particularly expressed through the Rosary. Prayer permeated his life not as an escape from the world, but as a way to learn how to live within the world. His lifelong conversion was conversation with God based upon prayer and reconciliation. This human being who had been graced with the marks of Christ’s wounds continued each day to place himself ever closer to God. It is this which makes him such a person and saint to contemplate.
As a priest he listened for countless hours to the confessions of innumerable people. He took their words of what they had done, what they regretted, their weaknesses, their wounds, and those parts of their lives that needed to change. He comforted them, spoke of reconciliation, and in doing so helped these individuals turn back towards God. He understood something that remains important for each of us: we cannot grow if we are unwilling to speak honestly with God about where we have failed. That honesty is not meant to make us live in shame, but quite the opposite. We can look truthfully at ourselves precisely because we believe that the One before whom we stand loves us.
We can look towards Padre Pio for inspiration, but we do not need him, or, truthfully, anyone but ourselves and God to have this conversation. When we accept the humility needed to approach God with our own issues, in hope of a loving acceptance of ourselves and our desire to better people, we can then become more merciful towards others. Recognizing our own weaknesses opens our hearts to be less willing to condemn someone else, the forgiveness we hope to receive from God we can offer back as forgiveness to others.
Understanding the profound devotion Padre Pio had towards prayer and the Sacrament of Reconciliation, helps us to see the amazing signs which surrounded him pointed to something ever greater. The wounds upon his body, his devotion to Mary , and his ministry of reconciliation were a continual beckoning spoken to everyone to move toward the mercy of God. Padre Pio taught us not to fear conversation with God, and that the humility to enter into his loving embrace will ultimately result in us emerging better prepared to serve HIm and to serve one another.

09/17/2026

The Feast of the Stigmata of St Francis

As a young man, Francis walked away from nearly everything the world told him was valuable: wealth, social position, comfort, security, and recognition. He answered the call to instead stand beside those whom society pushed aside, the poor, the sick, the marginalized, and the forgotten. He sought simply to live within the example of Jesus of the Gospels…

Yet, oddly enough, by choosing this path Francis became more widely known and beloved than the kings and powerful men of his age. This recognition was never something he sought, he only desired to be a servant to all. He even surrendered leadership of the community which had formed around him, and withdrew into solitude, desiring nothing more than quiet communion with the Lord whom he loved. In such a time of seclusion, prayer and fasting,Francis received the wounds of Christ upon his own body. The stigmata revealed outwardly what had been happening inwardly for years: Francis giving himself utterly over to God, to be shaped so completely by the love of the crucified Christ that his very life bore witness to Him.

Francis, even after this wonderful grace, remained what he had always desired to be…a lesser brother, a servant, and a companion of the forgotten.

Perhaps that is the invitation of the stigmata for us: not that we bear the wounds of Christ upon our bodies, but that we allow the love of Christ to leave its marks upon our lives.

Lord Jesus Christ,

Today we remember our brother Francis,
who desired nothing more than to know You,
to love You,
and to follow in Your footsteps.

He left behind wealth, comfort, position, and security,
not because these sacrifices made him great,
but because he discovered in You
a treasure greater than anything the world could offer.

You led him among the poor,
the sick, the rejected,
the marginalized and forgotten.
You taught him to recognize Your face
in those whom others preferred not to see.

Teach us to do the same.

Give us the courage to notice those who have been pushed aside.
Give us hearts willing to sit beside the lonely,
hands willing to serve those in need,
voices willing to speak with gentleness,
and lives willing to proclaim the Gospel through love.

When Francis became known and admired,
he did not cling to authority or recognition.
He withdrew again into prayer,
seeking not the praise of others,
but deeper communion with You.

Teach us that same humility.

Free us from the desire to be noticed,
from the temptation to measure our lives by accomplishment,
and from the need to receive recognition for the good we do.

On Mount La Verna,
Francis opened himself completely to You,
and upon his body he received the wounds of Your Passion.

We do not ask for those wounds, Lord,
but we ask that Your love leave its mark upon us.

Wound our indifference with compassion.
Wound our pride with humility.
Wound our selfishness with generosity.
Wound our fear with trust.
Wound our judgment with mercy.
And wound our hearts so deeply with Your love
that those whom we encounter may recognize something of You in us.

May we, like Francis, seek always to be lesser—
servants rather than masters,
companions rather than judges,
sisters and brothers to the poor,
friends of creation,
and instruments of reconciliation.

And when our lives are finished,
may it not be our titles, possessions, or accomplishments
that testify to who we were,
but the people we loved,
the wounds we helped to heal,
the forgotten whom we remembered,
and the mercy we offered in Your name.

Jesus, crucified and risen,
conform our hearts to Your Sacred Heart,
so that with our brother Francis
we may become humble bearers of Your love
to a wounded and forgotten world.

Amen.

09/16/2026

We recently reflected on finding the ability to pray throughout our busy days. This is a complementary reflection which focuses on the beauty and necessity for one on the path of discerning a spiritual journey or a religious vocation, by taking specific periods of time out of our day with the purpose of deepening our relationship with God. It is not always an easy thing to do, and more times than not there are reasons why it is just simply not convenient: we had a hard day at work; the dog needs to go for a walk; my friends or partner want me to do something with them; or even, I simply don’t want to do it right now.
God has more patience than we have excuses, and He is always waiting for us to turn towards Him. Walking the Franciscan path comes with the understanding that we will periodically stop and take time to converse with our Creator. Praying while doing something and deliberately doing nothing except praying are both necessary in our relationship with God.
One ancient tradition which helps us to start this conversation is Lectio Divina (divine reading). It is a contemplative way of praying with Scripture which teaches us to not only read the words before us, but as well to listen for God who is speaking to us through them. Lectio Divina traditionally moves us through four steps: reading (lectio), meditation/pondering (meditatio), prayer (oratio) and contemplation/resting in God (contemplatio). We read slowly, perhaps just a few verses, and then allow the words to enter and remain with us.
Saint Francis certainly prayed the formal prayers of the Church, but his spirituality also involved withdrawal, silence, caves, hermitages, and simply remaining before God. He was a busy guy, with his grueling ministry of service for so many in need. Yet, he nourished his spirit in the periods when he deliberately stepped away from activity, and focused completely on listening to God. Following his example, Franciscan life contains a beautiful rhythm: withdraw from the world for God, and then return to the world carrying something of God with us.
As we take this time with this prayerful reading, we may want to consider some questions:
* What am I being presented with? Rather than asking only, “What does this passage mean?”, notice what word, image, person, action, or phrase refuses to leave you.
* Where does this touch my life? Perhaps the passage exposes impatience, fear, resentment, loneliness, gratitude, hope, or something I have been avoiding.
* How is Christ speaking directly to me? Not necessarily looking for some extraordinary revelation, but asking, “What might Christ be inviting me to see differently?”
* How does this change the way I encounter others? Prayer should eventually move outward to share the love God has for us with others. If I receive mercy, can I become more merciful? If Christ challenges me to notice someone forgotten, whom am I overlooking?
* What can I carry back into the world? The meditation does not have to end with a grand resolution. Perhaps it leaves us with one word (such as: patience, mercy, courage, listening, forgiveness, or presence) and the challenge to embody as we move back into the world.

09/08/2026

Mary’s Fiat: A Lifelong “Yes” to God
“Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.”
—Luke 1:38

Today, September 8th, is the day we celebrate the birth of Mary. I thought it would be a wonderful time to consider the significance of Mary’s fiat, her “yes”, to God. Mary’s fiat was not simply a single answer given to the angel Gabriel, but rather it was the beginning of a lifelong surrender to God. “Surrender” sounds like a subservient word, one which takes away freedom. She is the example of how this is the exact opposite in meaning. She, with full free will, placed herself into God’s loving hands. She became the Theotokos, the Mother of God, and throughout her life renewed that “yes” again and again.
She was a human being who was intimately aware of her culture, and as she watched her son grow, moving out into the world to spread his message, she must have recognized that His words would open the eyes and hearts of many, while simultaneously awakening fear, anger, and hatred in others. She had to feel intense worry and fear for his safety, as would any loving parent, and her faith would not prevent her from worrying, nor did her trust in God spare her from suffering. She bore these emotional wounds as her son became known, loved and despised by various opposing groups in her society…ultimately to the unthinkable pain of watching him be crucified and die before her.
Mary, however, remained faithful to God throughout all of this. Her continued “yes” did not in any way mean that she didn’t suffer greatly, but that even within uncertainty and sorrow, she continued to entrust herself most deeply to God. Her “yes” was not passive resignation; it was courageous and active faith. In this she becomes an exemplar for each of us. We, every day of our lives, walk the path of life, where we encounter small and large forks in the road. We must make decisions, perform actions, and form opinions that can either draw us closer to God or slowly move us away from His love.
Mary’s response in the Gospels may appear so beautiful and natural that we imagine we would certainly answer in the same way. In the chaos of life, however, our own fiat becomes far more difficult, especially when faced with the reality that trusting in God might bring misunderstanding, rejection, or an unpopular response from others. Our own “yes” is tested when friends, relatives, or coworkers pressure us to react from anger rather than kindness. It is tested when politicians and public figures speak divisively, and we struggle not to allow hatred to grow within us…not only toward them, but also toward those who support them. It is tested when insecurity and the burdens of life tempt us toward resentment, envy, or judgment. When following the Gospels asks us to choose compassion over retaliation, humility over pride, and love over the approval of others, that “yes” is tested. We may not be facing the angel Gabriel, but we are being called to trust in God.
Our “yes” may be hesitant, and it may be offered through tears, uncertainty, or even fear, but God is always waiting patiently for us to move closer toward Him. Making the choice at the fork in the road to place our trust in God does not mean that we understand the entire road ahead, but simply that we trust Him enough to take the next faithful step. Mary teaches us that faith is not the absence of worry or suffering, but rather it is continuing to place ourselves in the hands of God even while we worry and suffer. May her lifelong fiat inspire our own, so that at every fork in the road we may choose the way that leads us nearer to God and allows His love to enter the world through us.
Prayer
Blessed Mother,
you entrusted your life to God
without knowing where your yes would lead.
Teach us to trust as you trusted,
to remain faithful when the road is uncertain,
and to choose love when anger and fear surround us.
Help us to offer our own fiat each day
in our decisions, our words, and our treatment of others.
When following God’s will is difficult or unpopular,
give us your courage to say:
“I am the servant of the Lord.
Let it be done to me according to your word.”
Amen.

09/04/2026

09/03/2026

Do Not Extinguish the Spirit of Prayer

A Reflection for the Missionary Franciscans of the Sacred Heart
Saint Francis writes in Chapter V of the Later Rule that those within a Franciscan community should work faithfully and devotedly, and always take care that they, “do not extinguish the spirit of holy prayer and devotion.” The choice of words Francis uses here are truly remarkable, as they do not instruct anyone to stop what they are doing in order to “pray”. He instead presents prayer as something akin to a small flame which we carry with us throughout our day. It is our responsibility to keep that flame burning.
This means that prayer cannot simply be something we do before everything else begins (or only after we have completed all of our other daily responsibilities), like morning prayer, Mass, the Rosary, Eucharistic Adoration, or a few minutes of private devotion. These practices are certainly essential in that they will kindle the flame, but throughout our busy days we must keep it burning brightly.
Whether we are employed or retired, we can quietly offer the work, and tasks of our hands and minds to God. We can look upon the person sitting across from us, the coworker who frustrates us, the client or stranger who needs our patience, as an encounter with Christ. A prayer at this time may simply be silently asking help from the Sacred Heart for allowing us to see Christ within this person.
Many of us spend a great deal of time driving while listening to a favorite channel of music or podcasts or whatever will occupy our minds. Taking some of this time, perhaps turn off the radio or phone, and allow your mind to experience silence. We may begin to better appreciate the sky, the trees, the people we pass by…. These can all serve as visual reminders of God's presence, allowing us to give thanks and appreciate His creation as we travel in our car…our own temporary, small hermitage.
In what we read and watch, are we feeding the flame of prayer? Are these times of leisure filling us with more love and consideration of others? Or are they filling us with cynicism, judgement, envy or anger? This is not a call to bury our heads in the sand and ignore the problems in the world, but rather a challenge to find those sources which will better assist us to help others. Again, in all that we experience, “do not extinguish the flame.”
We carry prayer especially into our relationships with others, and this is perhaps this is the most difficult prayer of all. It is relatively easy to pray before an icon, or to sit quietly before the Blessed Sacrament,but it can be considerably harder to recognize Christ in someone who annoys us, disagrees with us, misunderstands us, interrupts us or disappoints us. Yet it is in these very situations where our ability to pray is truly tested and can also burn brightest… and perhaps we can in turn kindle another person’s flame as well.

08/30/2026

“Please join us in praying the Rosary for the people of Nepal, entrusting all who are suffering, grieving, injured, or displaced to the loving care of Our Lady, Queen of Peace.”

Sunday September 13th, 2026 at 7:30pm:

https://us04web.zoom.us/j/79270349197?pwd=9DBIqtx46YdlxW3BtqZCl8MGZVf7Yb.1

08/28/2026

Please pray for the people of Nepal