A Reflection for the Memorial of St. Philip Neri, Priest
Find today’s feast readings here.
Finally, brothers and sisters,
whatever is true, whatever is honorable,
Whatever is just, whatever is pure,
Whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious,
if there is any excellence
and if there is anything worthy of praise,
think about these things.
I think about St. Philip Neri often. I am quick to share the fun fact, with friends Catholic or otherwise, that he is the patron saint of joy. I belong to a parish run by the Brooklyn Oratory of St. Philip Neri. I have a pop-art Andy Warhol homage of a t-shirt from the parish, the front of which shows a grid of nine differently colored reproductions of his Carlo Dolci portrait. Every time I attend Mass, my eyes meet his in the statue of him presiding warmly over our church’s narthex. I keep a tiny copy of a painting of him credited to Giuseppe Nogari in my cubicle.
In the two latter depictions, St. Philip holds his hand over his heart. The story goes that one day, while in prayer, the Holy Spirit’s visitation of him was so profound, so full of love, that it enlarged that heart of his. This meant it palpitated and beat with abnormal warmth.
St. Philip and his tender reach for that strange and warm chest in these works of art, can be a signal to us of just how accessible God’s love and its joys are to us. Today’s readings, for the feast of his memorial, do much of the same.
In his Letter to the Philippians, St. Paul insists we surround ourselves with and remind ourselves of that which is good and joyful: “...and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” Reading Psalm 34, we make a commitment to “taste and see the goodness of the Lord,” delivered from all our fears. In the Gospel of John, too, we are again called to be immersed in joy by being in communion with Christ: “‘Holy Father, I pray not only for these, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, so that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you, that they also may be in us, that the world may believe that you sent me.”
There is an insistence by the Holy Spirit that we find the joy near to us. I can be reminded of this insistence quickly in any moment of dejection through that t-shirt or by simply glancing upwards to St. Philip’s likeness when I’m sitting at my desk. But, as with St. Philip’s anomaly of a heart, joy can burn within us, too. In the Gospel passage, Jesus does not limit his prayer so that we may only find ourselves in him, but he in us: “And I have given them the glory you gave me, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me.”
I was recently consoled by the presence of joy, of Christ in myself and others, while on America Media’s most recent pilgrimage through Ignatian Spain. With an unscheduled couple of hours in Barcelona one afternoon, I and one friend, a fellow pilgrim, elected to wander for a bit. Each step and each cackle punctuating our conversation was another extension of the overwhelming joy of the astounding sites we were encountering and the extraordinary people we were praying with.
With a quick glance at the map on my phone, I was pleased to realize the two of us could see something pretty neat if we just made a few turns down a couple narrow alleys. Skirting the busyness of the cathedral, we stepped right into the Plaça de Sant Felip Neri.
It was as joyful as I had hoped—we were surrounded. The tiny plaza was shimmering with what sunlight could sneak through the canopies of its three enormous trees. It was filled with children chasing each other and laughing. It was the sort of scene that might make you reach for your heart.
