Saint Bede the Venerable, an
English saint more popularly
known as the “Venerable
Bede,” was born in Sunderland,
England in the year 673.
Educated from the age of seven,
he entered the monastery
of Saint Peter in Jarrow,
Northumberland, England, was
ordained a deacon at age 19
and ordained a priest at age 30.
The monastery at Jarrow would
become the center of AngloSaxon learning in England, and
from that monastery Saint Bede,
who would remain there his
entire life, became the greatest
of the Anglo-Saxon scholars.
Saint Bede sought to exercise good stewardship by a balanced life
of prayer, scholarship and manual labor. He rarely traveled, but attended
faithfully to his monastic duties, working in the fields surrounding the
monastery and being partly responsible for the upkeep and maintenance of
the large abbey church.
His communal prayer life was complemented by meditation,
chanting of psalms and writing prayers, prose and poems that reflected
his deep faith.
Saint Bede devoted himself to the study and teaching of Sacred
Scripture, and to writing Biblical commentaries based on the Biblical
commentaries of the Fathers of the Church and to the lives of the saints.
He also taught Latin to those who entered the monastery or came for an
education.
The term “A.D.” (Anno Domini, Latin for “year of the Lord”) for the
years of the Christian era was popularized by Saint Bede. His Ecclesiastical
History of the English People, completed in 731, was widely read
throughout England and Europe and became a classic. His book is still
reprinted and studied.
The Venerable Bede passed away on May 26, 735. In the final weeks
of his life, he completed the translation of the Gospel of John into Old
English (his native tongue) by dictating to the young monk who served as
his scribe. It is said that he passed away chanting the doxology “Glory be
to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit.”
Pope Leo XIII named Saint Bede a Doctor of the Church. He is
renowned as the most important historian of the Church in England and is
the patron saint of scholars. His feast day is May 25.

Philip understood very well Jesus’ words: “If you love me,
you will keep my commandments.” We learn of Philip’s
devotion to prayer, evangelizing and healing in the region
of Samaria; made up of communities that would not be
very receptive to the followers of Jesus. Philip is a model
steward, living his discipleship day by day in the Lord
without being obstructed by feelings of what cost his
actions might entail. Good stewards summon the courage
to proclaim the Lord and to serve Him by ministering to
others. As an Easter people, eager to rejoice in the Lord, it
is important to reflect on how we are living out our own
commitment to discipleship.

For those immersed in the secular world, Easter is long over. The pastel
bunnies, the chocolate eggs, the color-splashed jelly beans which
appeared in the marketplace so temptingly just as Christians were
beginning the fasting of Lent, have long been swept from the store
shelves to be replaced in anticipation of the next marketable holiday.
For the Christian steward, how backward this all seems. Yes, we
believe that the Paschal mystery and the life-changing events of Easter
are not over. They are not an end but a triumphal beginning, and they
have altered us in a quite radical way.

The mystery and miracle of Easter challenge us to live as different
people, as people of the Resurrection. What does this mean? For those
new Catholics who participated in the Rite of Christian Initiation of
Adults (RCIA), a period of mystagogy helps to understand this mystery.
Indeed, this ancient Greek word actually means “to lead through the
mysteries.” During mystagogia, many parishes introduce their new
members to service in a quite practical way. Here are the ministries of the parish; here are the charities we
support; here are the needs of our
community and our congregation.
How do you choose to live out your
faith in the Resurrection in a quite
tangible and real way? How do your
gifts fit into our needs? Essentially,
however, this is a question that
the Easter season calls forth in all
Christian stewards not just our
newest members.

We have lived through Lent and
the Paschal mysteries, all the while
trying to deepen a relationship with
the person of Christ. It’s as simple,
yet as amazing and complex as that.
The deeper the relationship grows,
the more we become rooted in it,
the more this relationship with Christ
comes to dominate our lives. We
no longer compartmentalize Jesus,
we hold him at our center. And the
mysteries lead us to the fundamental
question at the heart of all Christian
stewardship, the question that Easter
compels us to ask: How do I steward
my resources – my time, my money,
my abilities and gifts, my very life
– so that they are in service to the
Kingdom of God? It’s not a part-time
question. It’s not a seasonal question
that’s swept off the shelf periodically.
It’s the basic question which the
Easter season demands of us: Jesus,
how do you want me to serve you?

In the reading from the Acts of the Apostles we see how
the first community of Christians gathered together to
discern and resolve how to care for each others’ needs.
As good stewards of the sisters and brothers who gathered
around the Eucharistic table, the community of faith
selected those among them who were to ensure that
no one was neglected. How do we resolve to serve the
needs of our parish family? How do we ensure that those
who might be perceived to be the least of our brothers
and sisters are not left alone and neglected?

When spring rain lets up, and May brings long hours of brilliant sunshine,
something stirs within: the desire to tackle that dust we suddenly notice in
places we seldom look. And those windows smeared with winter’s muck? And
that disorganized closet? There’s a reason our grandmothers called it “spring
housecleaning.” The season brings an almost physical desire to get out the mop.
Surprisingly, for the Christian steward, this can actually be a spiritual
impulse. There’s something intrinsically renewing and revitalizing about
cleaning. Everything done with a prayerful heart can lead us closer to God, and
cleaning, often a solitary and contemplative task, can definitely include prayer.
You might plan to begin your cleaning with prayer, and play music that lifts your
spirit as you work.

Start with a closet. Open your heart to what it tells you about how blessed
you are materially. But observe the consumerism a closet can reveal. As you
examine each item of apparel, remember and thank God for the graces of the
occasion: a wedding, a graduation, a vacation. Enjoy “shopping” in your own
closet for items you’ve forgotten about. Pare down what you no longer need
or what you feel called to share. Wash, mend, iron and select a place where
your items may find a good home. Many cities have refugee closets, and many
nonprofits have thrift stores which support them. St. Vincent de Paul shops serve
the poor with inexpensive used items. Pray for those with whom you are about
to share.

Resolve to put your newly reorganized items to work for you and not rush
out to buy more.

And those windows? Does anything lift the spirit like a clean window after
a long winter? As you polish those panes of glass, pray about where your own
inner life could use a cleaning. Perhaps you don’t make it to the Sacrament of
Reconciliation as often as you’d like. Use your quiet window cleaning time
to examine the graces and challenges of your life. Thank God for the many
blessings and be honest about failings.

And that ubiquitous dust? It promises to return, afflicts the rich and the
poor. It’s a sign of our universal connection to the earth and the environment, a
reminder of our own mortality. Even the dust we clean can be lifted up to God
with a thank you from a steward’s grateful heart.

Saint Peter plays a prominent leadership role in the
first two readings, urging his listeners to be baptized
and accept the gift of the Holy Spirit; and encouraging
them to follow in the footsteps of Christ. We have just
renewed our baptismal promises at Easter and the
Holy Spirit dwells in us in a special way. Are we good
stewards of those baptismal vows? Have we renewed
our commitment to follow in Jesus’ footsteps? Have
we opened our hearts to discern the will of God in our
lives? Take some time to reflect on the importance of our
baptismal renewal and our lives as disciples of the Lord.