LENT UNPLUGGED

A Lenten Reflection

If God had a Face book account, what would His “shout out” be? If He had Twitter, what would He "tweet" about? Would He keep tabs on us through our blogs? What would be playing on His MP3? Nowadays, it is almost second nature for people to text, surf or chat. ‘Face to face’ interaction is done through daily electronic posts of what is happening on each other’s lives.

Personalities can be gleaned through avatars and expressing one's feelings can be as easy as creating emoticons. Hours are spent poring over little digital screens, clicking on a mouse or rotating track wheels. The wonders of modern day technology had many of us addicted to the trappings of our “electronic appendages”. Without it, we “virtually” fade away.
Technology in itself is not a bad thing (even the Pope has a YouTube channel), but, as with all good things, moderation is the key. Pope Benedict XVI in his Lenten message to the faithful in St. Peter’s Square urged everyone “to find moments of silence and reflect on life in the light of God’s love.”

When did you last time read the Bible and pondered on His words? A trip to the confessional?
How about doing a “techno” fast? Try giving up your gizmos during these final days of Lent for a few hours and free your mind of distractions. St. Chrysologus said that “Fasting is the soul of prayer; mercy is the lifeblood of fasting.” A “techno” fast is a small sacrifice to make compared to the wonders it can do to our relationship with God.

Take a moment this Lent to untangle ourselves from the electronic clutches of the laptop, the “crackberry”, the MP3 or the game console. Get offline, unplugged and connect with Him instead. Devote some heart to heart “face time” with God. Lent is the time to reflect on the ultimate sacrifice He made because of His immense love for us.

Our gadgets and gizmos are akin to worthless pennies compared to the greatness of His love. Isn’t it beautiful that with God, there is no need to log on because He is available ALL the time and for all eternity? No password required. Take off the earplugs and the headsets, all we need to hear is Him!
So … if God had a Twitter account, He will probably tweet “What are you doing now? I am free anytime.” His MP3 will most likely play “I Will Be Here” and His Facebook shout out? “Let’s talk!”. His emoticon will be a big welcoming (and forgiving) smile and his text message – “I lOVE yOU!”

“May every family and Christian community use well this time of Lent, therefore, in order to cast aside all that distracts the spirit and grow in whatever nourishes the soul, moving it to love of God and neighbor.” – Lenten message, Pope Benedict XVI

THE JOY OF BEING A SALESIAN

Yeah... you see these youngsters... so full of life... they live with passion for life. They fight to win and enjoy moment of victory like they have conquered the world...
But for many of them real life is quite a different story. They are labeled as failures or good for nothing at times. They are accused of being worthless.
Give them little appreciation, love & encouragement and your see how their entire life is transformed... They forget the pain and take on the stage... rocking and turning the world upside down.

Young people need to be told that they are loved.
If you tell them that, then they will teach you how to live life.
I feel thrilled when I see them happy. I am a salesian working for the young.... but working with them is like learning how to be happy. I teach them how to live. They teach me how to live happily.
have you ever thought what it would be if you were called to be a Salesian
Think about it... it may be God telling you where to find true happiness... in the midst of young people.

That you are young is enough to make me love you very much.
-Don Bosco

THE BOY PRIEST...Cont...

DECEMBER 8^th 1841 Don Bosco was getting ready to say Mass, from the cold outside a boy slipped into the sacristy for a bit of warmth. The sacristan realized he was not one of the servers and chased the boy out. “Call that boy back. He’s my friend!” Don Bosco shouted. The boy was an orphan, out of work and an easy target for some swindler. For such lads the prison gates swung wide open. But just now a friendly work coaxed a smile from the lad. A Hail Mary together and the boy asked could he come back.

The following week there were seven boys. Then week by week they increased in number, coming to Don Bosco every Sunday for a short catechism lesson, for confession and Mass, and then out for the day into the countryside.

That’s how Don Bosco’s work for boys began. Like all beginnings it was hard and painful. He and his boys were pushed from pillar to post. The work was misunderstood by the clergy and looked upon with suspicion by the police. There were bills for the bread and clothing. There were harsh words and even insults at times. But Don Bosco smiled and kept going. His Bishop and also his confessor (now St. Joseph Cafasso) kept encouraging him. The “Lady” of his first dream continued to appear and point the way. He trusted that God would not let him work in vain.

The Boys' Priest...

ANTHONY SNARLED “Get these books out of here look at me. I’m big & strong, and I can’t read or write.” “That’s nothing to brag about,” retorted John, picking the books up of the floor. “Look at our mule. He’s strong than you and he can’t read or write either!”
That sounds funny to us. But to Margaret Bosco it meant quarrels and hurt feelings. If John was ever to become a priest she wanted him to make a start now. At the age of twelve John left home for the nearby town of Castelnuovo, where he could go to school. After school hours he worked at any trade where he could find an opening – tailor, blacksmith, carpenter, and writer – anything to earn some money to buy clothing and pay for his lodgings. He completed the three years courses in two years ending up with the highest possible marks.
In 1837 he entered the diocesan seminary. Now he earnestly prepared himself for the work God wanted him to do. Four years later, to his mother’s unspeakable joy, John was ordained and said his first Mass at the alter where he used to serve as a boy. Now everyone call “Don” (Father) Bosco.

The Boys' Priest...

JOHN BOSCO was born in August 16th 1815, in the North of Italy. His father died when John was only two. All during his boyhood he knew little, apart from the poverty of a small farm. His desire was to study so as to become a priest, but disappointment met him at every turn. His older brother Joseph was helpful, but his step brother, Anthony, ten years his senior, was violently against the idea.
An old retired priest met young John returning with his mother from a mission at a local village church, and was very impressed by the lad’s brilliant memory. He volunteered to tutor John privately. All went well for a few months and John made fine progress. “Don’t worry” the old priest use to chuckle. “You’ll go to school and to the seminary. I’ll see to that!” John idolized him. But one morning he was called to the presbytery to find the old priest dying. With his last breath the old man thrust a key into John’s hand and muttered, “That cabinet over there… money for your studies…it’s all yours.” However, after the funeral his relatives turned up and John preferred to surrender the key and the money.
Through all these disappointments John kept up his good spirits. Some day he would be a boy’s pries. Just now he was a boy’s boy. He kept the local youngsters together. With patience he learnt lots of tricks by watching the traveling jugglers. He began giving free shows! Walking the tightrope, juggling, spilling coins out of a boy’s ear, pulling rabbits out of hats, making dead chickens come to life, flipping magic cards through the air was all part of a lively, entertainment, cleverly broken in the beginning by the Rosary and towards the end by “last Sunday’s sermon which the parish priest gave and which I am going to repeat.” No one, young or old, dared complain – where else could they get such free entertainment?

The Boys' Priest... Cont...

“THE DREAM” happened, soon after. John called it “THE DREAM” because it mapped out his entire life. It seemed to hi that he was playing with his friends on the slope just outside his house. The boys broke into a violent quarrel, cursing and swearing. He tried to stop them. He plunged into them punching out in all directions. Then a “man” was beside him saying, “No, not this way!” “Who are you?” John asked. “I am the son of Mary. Your mother taught you to salute her three times a day.” “But what’s your name?” “My mother will tell you.” John now noticed a beautiful lady who said to him, “Watch what I do.” She stretched out her hands. The boys in front of them turned into a pack of snarling wild animals. John clung to her side. She put out her hands again. The animals changed into playful friendly lambs. “But what does this mean?” “Some day you will understand. Just now make yourself humble, strong and courageous.” The dream vanished. John awoke to the poverty of the Bosco farm.

The Boys' Priest

THE YOUNGSTER and his mother walked along the dusty country lane into the glowing sunset. Towards them strode a priest, his long cassock flapping in the evening breeze. To the boy it seemed as if he had just walked out of the bright colorful sky, trailing beams of light. As they came closer, the boy’s face broke into a big smile, and his small cheerful voice piped clearly: “Good evening Father!”
The priest’ looking straight ahead, solemnly bowed his head and passed by.
“Mum he didn’t even see me!”
“Priests are busy, John. They haven’t always time, for boys.”
“But our Lord had time for young people, and when I become a priest I’ll always have time for boys.”
Margaret Bosco smiled. Her little son John a priest? Well and why not? He was bright, and he knew and loved his catechism and prayers. If only he could go to school… if only his father were still alive… if only they had a little money…
They kept walking on to their small farm cottage on top of the rolling hills that encircle the city of Turin. The boy kept up his lively chatter. The mother prayed