On Saturday, October 19th, over 300 people from our St. Benedict Classical Academy community participated in a beautiful Eucharistic procession from our current Schoolhouse at 2 Pleasant Street to our soon-to-be new home at 89 Union Street in Natick, MA. When we arrived at our new building, our chaplain, Fr. Peter Stamm, celebrated Mass for our community on the front steps. It truly was a glorious event! I am so grateful for the many clergy, board members, faculty and staff, students, alumni, past teachers, and community members who joined us. It was a beautiful opportunity to celebrate the past and to look forward to the future with much anticipation. Many who attended were so moved by Fr. Stamm’s homily that they requested a copy. I would like to share that with you now. As we look forward to all that God has in store for us, let us give thanks for all that He has already accomplished. Deo gratias!
It’s with great thanksgiving to God that, with Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament leading the way, we have come to the new campus of our school. Here we are before this magnificent building, constructed by faith and the sacrifices and generosity of so many.
Throughout the Archdiocese of Boston, we are preparing to say goodbye to Cardinal Sean in the coming weeks. During his twenty-plus years as our bishop, the Cardinal has had an arsenal of stories and anecdotes that he returns to, often at big gatherings such as Ordinations and the annual Chrism Mass. As we celebrate today the Memorial of the North American Martyrs – the Jesuits Isaac Jogues, Jean de Brebeuf, and their companions, I’m reminded of something the Cardinal has remarked on a number of times:
Cardinal Sean recalls seeing in his travels two vocation ads, both sponsored by the Society of Jesus. One featuring a professor in expensive lay clothing sitting at a desk, the other highlighting a man tied to a cross, hurtling over a waterfall to his death, a scene taken from the film “The Mission”. They were both captioned: “Do you want to be a Jesuit? Quieres ser Jesuita?” Today’s saints, collectively known as the North American Martyrs, were the sort that signed up for a ride on the cross. They were brutally tortured and killed by Native tribes in upstate New York and Canada. I just want to share a few words about their own mindset and their ministry, since what we face today isn’t as far removed from them as we might think.
Right from the start of their time in seminary, Jean de Brebeuf, Isaac Jogues, and their companions knew that they were being formed for the missions. What did that mean? That they would be sent out into a culture that wouldn’t necessarily understand them or welcome them. They would be sent with limited resources, with only a few scattered companions, or even alone. When they got to their destination, they might build upon the work of those who came before them. Or perhaps they would have to start from nothing. Their own future was unpredictable. They would be on the move and would have to travel lightly. They had the cassock on their backs, a breviary, a set of beads, and not much else. Knowing this, they used their time of formation to prepare themselves.
If you don’t already, consider from today onward that you as a follower of Jesus in this specific place and time are in the missions. Because it’s true. The hundreds of established parish churches in New England might tempt you to think otherwise. But don’t be fooled by buildings which are typically three-quarters empty on Sundays, embedded in communities and neighborhoods which may be vestigially Catholic, but whose actual priorities, imagination, and initiatives are governed by a profoundly different view of the world. To correspond to the needs of our present moment as disciples, we should cultivate the same habits that animated the lives of Frs. Isaac, Jean, and their companions – a deep conviction of the primacy of grace, a great love for souls, a familiarity with austerity, an acceptance that your time, indeed your life, is not your own, a willingness to sacrifice whatever needs to be sacrificed in order that Jesus may be known and loved.
In order to do precisely this, Jean de Brebeuf spent countless hours learning the language of the Huron people to whom he had been sent. He learned not only the grammar and vocabulary but how to speak as a Huron – the idiomatic expressions, the style of oratory, such that the people could feel that they were being addressed by a brother, one who tried to know them from the inside.
Although “accompaniment” is a churchy buzzword these days, it’s nothing new. It’s what saints have always done. It’s what we want to do as well. At its best, our Church has always been a “listening Church,” in the sense that it wants to hear how people perceive reality, not as though the Church needs to receive instruction from them, but in order to then speak the Gospel into the culture and heal it from its specific errors. Fr. Jean de Brebeuf listened to the Native peoples.
Having heard them about their beliefs, he described their statements frankly in his private journal as “foolish delusions.” But due to listening, he knew where to begin and what he was dealing with. It may be that we hear a “foolish delusion” or two among the people to whom we are sent – coworkers, friends, neighbors, extended family. In listening, God is showing you where to begin.
Jean de Brebeuf was not one to give into discouragement, which was good, because there were plenty of reasons for discouragement. During the first 9 years he spent among the Hurons, he didn’t have even one single Baptism. Just imagine going to a parish and not baptizing even one person for nine years! I think after a few years, I might be ready to wash my hands of the place and move on. But that’s not how the saints think. What depth of theological hope, what relentlessness of love must have abided in the heart of Jean de Brebeuf. Hell would freeze over before that man gave up. And his persistence bore fruit. Finally, in 1635, he baptized 14 people. By the following year, he had added 86 more. And onward from there. He was like the Winston Churchill of the priesthood long before Winston Churchill. “Never give in, never give in, never, never, never…”
It was that indomitable spirit united to Christ that could find victory even in the midst of suffering. As his body was being literally ripped apart, he was not diminished. In the strange and terrible designs of Providence, he lived out the logic of the Eucharist in an extraordinary way, as the people he had loved and served for so many years and at such personal cost literally drank his blood and ate his heart, hoping to absorb his courage and strength. Certainly an instance in which their foolish and sinful delusion nevertheless had within it a seed of truth, realized ultimately in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass which Fr. Jean had offered so many times.
Centuries later, Mother Teresa would give to her sisters this word of advice: “Let the people eat you up.” Let your sacrifice be a life laid down for others. Let the logic of the Cross weave its way through the days of your own life. Embrace the paradox that when we surrender, we receive. Out of something small, God can do great things. The impact of our own little acts of faithfulness to Christ can reverberate well beyond our own lives, even down centuries. The North American martyrs planted the faith amidst the lands where we stand today. By their continuing love and intercession, may our holy faith remain strong, and grow stronger yet, on this continent where they poured out their life’s blood for the Gospel.
– Reverend Peter Stamm, Homily from the First Mass at the New Campus of St. Benedict Classical Academy, Memorial of the North American Martyrs, October 19, 2024
AUTHOR: Jay Boren, Headmaster



