St. Anthony Can Find Anything — Even You
“Tony, Tony, come around! Something is lost and it must be found.” Did you learn this one when you were a kid? In my experience there are even a lot of lapsed Catholics — or people who were never Catholic at all — who know that when you lose something, St. Anthony becomes your best friend. Missing keys? Pray to St. Anthony. Can’t find your favorite sweater? St. Anthony. Forget where you parked your car in the mall lot? St. Anth— okay, you get the idea. Whatever it is, large or small, important or trivial, Tony has a reputation for finding the lost things. It’s a devotion that can seem a little like superstition — witchcraft, even? — if you don’t really understand it. Mumble an incantation to a dead guy and you’re guaranteed to find your sunglasses. But as with most traditions that are old, beloved and effective, looking a little closer reveals the truth of the matter. When we lose something really important, what do we do? We make the whole household stop what they’re doing to join the search. Having St. Anthony as a friend means you ask him to stop what he’s doing to help, too. And how he helps is by taking the matter exactly where all matters need to go — straight to the feet of Christ. Here’s the real genius of St Anthony: he takes the most mundane, commonplace occurrence — misplacing socks — into an encounter with the divine and truly all things great and small are gifts from God. He grabs our hand and points to the cross. “That’s what you’re looking for,” he tells us. In the end, Tony doesn’t really find the lost things. He finds the lost people. 
— Tracy Earl Welliver, MTS

When Sacrifice Becomes Mundane--It seems to happen every year, like clockwork: we drag a bit, as we enter into the second week of Lent. On Ash Wednesday, we feel a bit like soldiers banging our shields, rushing into battle. “We’re ready, God!” our hearts cry out. “Transform us through sacrifice! Your will be done!” But by now, these Lenten resolutions are no longer novelties — they’ve joined the ranks of everyday inconveniences, which somehow are the hardest to bear. Because transformation, in real life, happens in inches, just as a battle is won slowly in the crash of one sword against another. It’s not always a dramatic thing, to the naked eye. It’s the perseverance in prayer despite weariness, or the continual denial of some pleasure even though there’s that nagging voice in our minds saying: go ahead, God doesn’t really mind. It’s a week when we all need a shock to the system — and wouldn’t you know it, this Sunday God gives us a double-whammy of dramatic sacrificial scenes. We picture Abraham, who also cried “Ready!” when God called, never imagining what He would ask: the surrender of his long-awaited son. We see Christ himself transfigured, as God shows us what He is ready to give up for love of us. We must remain committed, persevering daily in acknowledging that everything belongs to God. What we sacrifice, we simply give back to Him. If God is for us, who can be against us? Can we still reply, “Ready!” when we hear the call of God? —
Go to top