A gruff-looking man with a graying beard and long, knotty hair pulled back in a pony-tail, topped with a New York Yankees fisherman’s hat; a raggedy hooded gray robe fastened with a rope, a blue bandana dangling from it; a fully-stuffed, olive-drab backpack that looked like it could’ve been filled with crushed aluminum cans and plastic bottles; a soft case for a bass guitar slung over his shoulder. 

If I didn’t know who he was, I would’ve thought he was a bum.  But it’s Father Stan Fortuna, who with the prolific Father Benedict Groeschel, was one of the founders of the Franciscan Friars of the Renewal.

He got up on stage and started jamming on his bass, rapping songs of praise with his reggae-tinged Bronx accent, rambling almost, like he was making stuff up as he went along.  Later that evening, he reemerged draped with a humeral veil and led Adoration–waddled about with the monstrance, with awkward gestures and bows, and at one point picked up an acoustic guitar to sing a song.

And immediately, I thought: Wow, what a lack of reverence for a man of God, a priest!

And immediately, I took it back.  What I mistook for irreverence was in fact such profound piety that those who first see it will not get it.  I let appearances deceive me.

Father Stan Fortuna is a living saint, with the Holy Spirit flowing abundantly through him, putting the words on his tongue and the notes in his fingertips.  When he bowed before the King of the Universe, his head touched the dirty ground.  And when he gazed upon the Lord, sang to the Lord, he did so with such love, such intimacy.  I did not know that kind of love–that fire–but I knew I wanted it, too. 

We have two CDs in our store by Father Stan, showcasing his musical breadth and zeal.  All the proceeds from these sales go towards the friars’ apostolic mission of serving the poor. 

I remember a time when I asked the same question.  I think we all did. 

During his homily, the very jolly Father Jose Robles Sanchez recounted an anecdote from his upbringing about his unwillingness to attend Sunday morning Mass.  His mother gave him two choices: get up, get dressed, and go to Mass; or, get up, GET BEAT, get dresed, and go to Mass.

I am thankful my mother had the same persistence when I was younger. 

Unfortunately, this makes our young ones rue Sunday mornings.  Matthew Pinto and Chris Stefanick’s Do I Have to Go: 101 Questions About the Mass, the Eucharist, and your Spiritual Life remedies this by offering the answer to that whiny question, and, all the other uncertainties which keep them from the Celebration. 

Incidentally, I got to hear a talk by the co-author Chris Stefanick the same weekend as Father Jose.  Very passionate about his faith and ministry to the youth, he tells it like it is–but, in a vibrant, often humorous manner that is accessible by today’s teenagers.  This charisma definitely comes through in this book. 

They leave no stone unturned, addressing every aspect of our Mass, offering cool insights and trivia that will ignite a love for our highest form of worship.  Perhaps the next Sunday morning, your teen will be dressed and ready to go before you!

S0metimes it’ll take a tragedy to ignite our faith.  And sometimes, it is a tragedy that confirms it.

As the plane was crashing into the Hudson River, Frederick Berretta felt God stirring in his conscience.  Facing certain death, in his final prayers and thoughts of his family, he distinctly heard His voice.  It was the apex of a lifetime of searching for Him, for meaning in his life. 

Following his miraculous survival, spreading what God revealed to him that afternoon became his mission, and is the central theme of his book, Flight of Faith.

It’s a quick-paced read–symbolic of those very few minutes Berretta had to take stock of his life and make his peace with God, from when Flight 1549 struck the flock of geese to the time Captain Sully splashed it into the icy river.  The book is such a testament to God’s intervention–not just in times of desperation, as Berretta interlaces the events of January 15, 2009 with other scenes from his life that moved him towards a deeper relationship with God.  Flight of Faith becomes not just a book about one man’s epiphany on a doomed plane trip out of New York City, but one man’s lifelong journey to a more intimate friendship with his Savior.

An Infinity of Little Hours by Nancy Klein Maguire

The Carthusians were founded in the 11th Century.  The Order is of cloistered men living in almost absolute solitude within a monastery, all adhering to a very austere rule, an entire life spent alone in prayer, penance, and contemplation.

Not much has changed in 900 years when Nancy Klein Maguire comes along, in 1960, to chronicle the paths of five young men aspiring to join the Order.  An Infinity of Little Hours is the story of these men from when they first arrived at the monastery up until the time they had to make their solemn profession, five years later: the last possible moment they can still choose to return to the real world, or, remain in the monastery… forever.

It’s a thought-provoking story, and that ultimate decision becomes pivotal: some of these men did choose to remain within the walls–the others, returned and found themselves having to adapt to a society that has changed dramatically in the five years since they departed.  The final chapter is a reunion 40 years later between them.

It is inspiring to see the lengths some men will go to find God–even for those who dropped out, how admirable it was to give five years of their lives to explore this path.  Highly recommended for those considering a religious vocation as it shows to the exteme what it takes to really give your entire life to God.

Honestly, when I first saw this title, I thought: “Really?  There’s no way this book is going to be approved by the Church.”  An illustrated children’s storybook on the Pope as told by a cat?  Come on….

Well, I couldn’t be any more wrong.  This book is the Vatican’s OFFICIAL children’s storybook on the life of Pope Benedict XVI!  It even comes with an introduction by Father Georg Gänswein, the Pope’s personal secretary, attesting that every part of the story Chico the Cat tells is absolutely true… well, save for the part that the cat can talk, of course.

It’s pretty well known in papist circles that Benedict XVI is a cat lover.  He used to feed the alleycats in Rome and kept some as pets in his old apartment while a Cardinal.  It was rumored that after becoming Pope, he would sneak across the street under the cover of night to feed his cats (as they’re not allowed in his current residence).

This is a great book for children to learn more about our Pope while sparking their imagination and honing their reading, language and communication skills.  It is fully color illustrated and the story is exciting, adventurous and, most importantly, historically accurate–as vouched for by him closest to his Holiness… 

Fr. Georg Gänswein, I meant… not Chico.