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That life-changing moment when you realize…God loves you more in a moment than anyone could in a lifetime…
I couldn’t possibly count all the times I’ve told others that God loved them, and challenged them to believe it. God’s unconditional love for us has been a dominant theme in every retreat, parish mission and reflection day I led over many years. I have been eloquently persuasive in convincing a plethora of people to stake their lives on the reality of God’s love for them.
But when it came to my own life, getting hold of that truth in a way that penetrated to my core was always an elusive goal. I desperately wanted that conviction to become as automatic as my breathing, but believing that God loved me was something I understood in my head, but seldom felt in my heart.
And then I met Maya Angelou. Already nationally known for her writing and poetry, for being a singer, dancer, actress and good friend of Oprah Winfrey, she became a household name when she wrote and recited a poem at President Bill Clinton’s first inauguration. The following year, she was the keynote speaker at the annual Los Angeles Religious Education Congress—the biggest Catholic event in the USA drawing twenty-five thousand adults and teens over the course of a long weekend. My wife, Nancy and I were also scheduled to speak and, at the conclusion of Maya’s keynote speech, Nancy was invited to dance while Maya recited her poem.
The keynote was astounding. She spoke with great eloquence. She recited poetry. She sang. And she inspired everyone in the room—all six thousand of us. While she was being introduced, I was struck by this anecdote.
When a reporter asked her, “What moment in your life changed you most?” Maya instantly replied, “Why, that’s easy. It was the moment I realized that God truly loves me.”
When the speech and dance were over, I congratulated Nancy and suggested we go to the speaker’s lounge. “And if Maya is there, I’m going to ask for her autograph.” To my delight we found the usually crowded room empty, except for the Sister who had introduced her speech and Maya Angelou herself. We sat down and chatted, but soon the Sister had to leave. “Before I go,” she said, pulling a notebook and pen from her bag and handing them to Maya, “Would you mind giving me your autograph?” With a dismissive gesture, Maya replied, “Oh honey, I don’t do autographs.” That left only the three of us at the table.
I immediately turned to Maya and confessed that I’d also planned to ask for an autograph. “But I realize now that I don’t really want your autograph,” I said. “There is something else I’d like,” I said.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“I’d like to hold your hand,” I said.
“Why, I would love that,” she replied.
I placed my right hand palm-up on the table. She place her left hand in mine. I put my left hand on top of hers, and she put her right hand on top of mine. As we sat there with this “hand sandwich” I looked directly into her eyes and told her, “I was deeply moved by the story Sister shared in her introduction, when you were asked to name the moment that changed your life.”
Maya didn’t hesitate. Returning my gaze, she said, “Oh yes, oh yes,” she said. “Why even now, even now just to think of it… just to think of how much God loves me…” As she spoke her enormous eyes welled up with giant tears that rolled down her cheeks. As I watched her awareness of God’s love for her turn into those precious tears, I thought to myself, “I want that. I want that! I want to know God’s love for me as fully as she does.”
That remained my hope and prayer for many years. Yes, I knew God loved me, but not to the depths of my being like Maya did. Not with a conviction that would move me to tears.
That came years later when I received an email from an editor thanking me for an article I had written. She told me I was a “real blessing” to their media organization, then she added, “God loves you very much.”
That did it. After all those years of seeking a bedrock conviction that God truly loved me, that one sentence did it! I had never met the editor in person, yet her words sent from across the ocean pierced my heart. It was as if God spoke those words Himself: “I love you very much, Graziano!” I knew it was true.
It was a tremendous and unexpected gift. And what a difference it makes!
God loves me whether I am good or bad. God loves me when I’m praying and when I’m not praying. I don’t have to deserve it because God gives it freely. And I can’t do anything to make God stop loving me. Not even sin. I have the freedom to break God’s heart and reject his love. But even then, God would keep on loving me.
And of course, God had been loving me all along. He didn’t start loving me that day, and that day wasn’t the first time I knew He loved me. But previously I had known it in my “head.” That day, God penetrated my heart with a different kind of knowing…a calm and peaceful assurance that transcends all of life’s circumstances.
It took me a long time to come to that point of clarity and certainty, to that serenity that wraps itself around you like a blanket. And what God did for me, He can do for you. Do you want God’s assurance of His love? Just ask. And then wait. It may be a surprise who God chooses to reveal His love. After it happens, you may also find yourself saying, “Oh yes, oh yes… Why even now, even now just to think of it… just to think of how much God loves me…”
Graziano Marcheschi serves as the Senior Programming Consultant for Shalom World. He speaks nationally and internationally on topics of liturgy and the arts, scripture, spirituality, and lay ecclesial ministry. Graziano and his wife Nancy are blessed with two daughters, a son, and three grandchildren and live in Chicago.
The greatest evangelist is, of course, Jesus himself, and there is no better presentation of Jesus’ evangelical technique than Luke’s masterful narrative concerning the disciples on the road to Emmaus. The story opens with two people going the wrong way. In Luke’s Gospel, Jerusalem is the spiritual center of gravity— it is the locale of the Last Supper, the Cross, the Resurrection and the sending of the Spirit. It is the charged place where the drama of Salvation unfolds. So in walking away from the capital city, these two erstwhile disciples of Jesus are going against the grain. Jesus joins them on their journey—though we are told that they are prevented from recognizing Him—and He asks them what they are talking about. Throughout His ministry, Jesus associated with sinners. He stood shoulder to shoulder in the muddy waters of the Jordan with those seeking forgiveness through the baptism of John; over and again, He ate and drank with disreputable types, much to the chagrin of the self-righteous; and at the end of His life, He was crucified in between two thieves. Jesus hated sin, but He liked sinners and was consistently willing to move into their world and to engage them on their terms. And this is a first great evangelical lesson. The successful evangelist does not stand aloof from the experience of sinners, passing easy judgment on them, praying for them from a distance; on the contrary, she loves them so much that she joins them and deigns to walk in their shoes and to feel the texture of their experience. Prompted by Jesus’ curious questions, one of the travelers, Cleopas by name, recounts all of the 'things' concerning Jesus of Nazareth: “He was a prophet mighty in word and deed before God and all the people; our leaders, though, put Him to death; we thought He would be the redeemer of Israel; this very morning, there were reports that He had risen from the dead.” Cleopas has all of the 'facts' straight; there is not one thing he says about Jesus that is wrong. But his sadness and his flight from Jerusalem testify that he doesn’t see the picture. I love the clever and funny cartoons in the New Yorker magazine, but occasionally, there is a cartoon I just don’t understand. I’ve taken in all of the details, I’ve seen the main characters and the objects around them, I’ve understood the caption. Yet, I don’t see why it’s funny. And then there comes a moment of illumination: though I haven’t seen any further detail, though no new piece of the puzzle has emerged, I discern the pattern that connects them together in a meaningful way. In a word, I 'get' the cartoon. Having heard Cleopas’ account, Jesus say: “Oh, how foolish you are! How slow of heart to believe all that the prophets said.” And then He opens the Scriptures to them, disclosing the great Biblical patterns that make sense of the 'things' that they have witnessed. Without revealing to them any new detail about Himself, Jesus shows them the form, the overarching design, the meaning—and through this process they begin to 'get' Him: their hearts are burning within them. This is the second great evangelical lesson. The successful evangelist uses the Scriptures in order to disclose the divine patterns and ultimately the Pattern who is made flesh in Jesus. Without these clarifying forms, human life is a hodge-podge, a blur of events, a string of meaningless happenings. The effective evangelist is a man of the Bible, for the Scripture is the means by which we 'get' Jesus Christ and, through Him, our lives. The two disciples press Him to stay with them as they draw near the town of Emmaus. Jesus sits down with them, takes bread, says the blessing, breaks it and gives it to them, and in that moment they recognize Him. Though they were, through the mediation of Scripture, beginning to see, they still did not fully grasp who He was. But in the Eucharistic moment, in the breaking of the bread, their eyes are opened. The ultimate means by which we understand Jesus Christ is not the Scripture but the Eucharist, for the Eucharist is Christ Himself, personally and actively present. The embodiment of the paschal mystery, the Eucharist, is Jesus’ love for the world unto death, His journey into godforsakenness in order to save the most desperate of sinners, His heart broken open in compassion. And this is why it is through the lens of the Eucharist that Jesus comes most fully and vividly into focus. And thus we see the third great evangelical lesson. Successful evangelists are persons of the Eucharist. They are immersed in the rhythms of the Mass; they practice Eucharistic adoration; they draw the evangelized to a participation in the body and blood of Jesus. They know that bringing sinners to Jesus Christ is never primarily a matter of personal witness, or inspiring sermonizing, or even exposure to the patterns of the Scripture. It is primarily a matter of seeing the broken heart of God through the broken bread of the Eucharist. So prospective evangelists, do what Jesus did. Walk with sinners, open the Book, break the Bread.
By: Bishop Robert Barron
MoreI remember a childhood story in which God, about to destroy Earth because of humanity's wrongdoing, looked down, saw the lilies of the field praying for mankind, and extended the end of time. It was my wife's desire to attend daily Mass that led us to the nearby Carmelite Monastery. I was immediately struck by the pervasive stillness and a sense of tranquility. Through the grilled gates, these nuns looked like God's lilies on earth. As I was introduced to their daily life, I was surprised to learn that the sisters make vestments, altar breads, and greeting cards. They even stitch their own habits, grow their own fruits and vegetables, and look after the other elderly sisters. Most of the day is spent in silence, which helps them to open up to the Lord and pray. The sisters even meet up twice a day to talk and share. The power of prayer and its impact dawned upon me. The Church has a rich tradition of prayer, through which we deeply connect with God, whether it's through attending Mass, reciting the Rosary, or simply taking a few moments to reflect on God's presence in our lives. The experience of visiting the Carmelite Monastery was truly humbling. It helped me reflect on the power of prayer and the importance of dedicating one's life to serving others, and left me with a sense of peace and renewed faith.
By: Winner Varghese
MoreThe Mexican Revolution which began in the early 1920s, led to the persecution of the Catholic community in that country. Pedro de Jesus Maldonado-Lucero was a seminarian at that time. Once he became a priest, despite the risk, he stood with his people. He tended to his flock during a terrible epidemic, founded new apostolic groups, reestablished associations, and ignited Eucharistic piety among his parishioners. Upon discovering his pastoral activities, the government deported him, but he managed to return and continue serving his flock, in hiding. One day, after hearing the confessions of the faithful, a gang of armed men busted his hiding place. Father Maldonado managed to grab a reliquary with Consecrated Hosts as they forced him out. The men forced him to walk barefoot throughout the town, as a crowd of the faithful followed him. The city mayor grabbed Father Maldonado's hair and dragged him toward the city hall. He was knocked to the ground, resulting in a skull fracture that popped out his left eye. He had managed to keep his grip on the pyx until this time, but now it fell out of his hands. One of the thugs took some Holy Hosts, and as he forcefully stuffed the hosts inside the priest’s mouth, he shouted: “Eat this and see if He can save you now.” Little did the soldier know that just the night before, during the Holy Hour, Father Maldonado had prayed that he would happily give his life for an end to the persecution ‘if only he would be allowed to take Communion before his death.’ The thugs left him for dead in a pool of his own blood. Some local women found him still breathing and rushed him to a nearby hospital. Father Pedro Maldonado was born into eternal life the next day, on the 19th anniversary of his priestly ordination. Pope John Paul II canonized this Mexican priest in 2000.
By: Shalom Tidings
MoreWhen Andrea Acutis arranged a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, he thought that his son would be excited. Carlo was keen on going to daily Mass and reciting his prayers, so his reply came as a surprise: "I prefer to stay in Milan … Since Jesus remains with us always, in the Consecrated Host, what need is there to make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem to visit the places where He lived 2000 years ago? Instead, tabernacles ought to be visited with the same devotion!" Andrea was struck by this great devotion that his son cherished for the Eucharist. Carlo was born in 1991, the year the World Wide Web was invented. The little genius walked when he was just four months old, and started reading and writing at the age of three. The world would’ve looked at his intellect and dreamt of a bright future but the Divine had different plans. Combining his love for the Eucharist and technology, he left the world a great legacy of a record of Eucharistic miracles from across the world. He began the collection in 2002 when he was just 11 years old and completed it a year before he succumbed to leukemia. This young computer geek, at such a young age, even built a website (carloacutis.com), a lasting record, with all the collected information. The Eucharistic exhibition he pioneered was held in five continents. Ever since, many miracles have been reported. On his website, he has written the lasting mission of his life on Earth: "The more Eucharist we receive, the more we will become like Jesus, so that on this Earth, we will have a foretaste of Heaven." This Italian teenage designer and computer whiz is soon to become Saint Carlo Acutis. Widely known as the first millennial patron of the internet, Blessed Carlo continues to draw millions of youngsters to the love of Jesus in the Eucharist.
By: Shalom Tidings
MoreWhen she lost her mobility, eyesight, listening, voice, and even the sense of touch, what prompted this young girl to describe her life as ‘sweet?’ Little Benedetta, at age seven, wrote in her diary: “The universe is enchanting! It is great to be alive.” This intelligent and happy lass, unfortunately, contracted polio in her childhood, which left her body crippled, but nothing could cripple her spirit! Hard Times on Roll Benedetta Bianchi Porro was born in Forlì, Italy, in 1936. As a teenager, she began to go deaf, but despite this, she entered medical school, where she excelled, taking oral exams by reading the lips of her professors. She had an ardent desire to become a missionary doctor, but after five years of medical training and just one year short of completing her degree, she was forced to end her studies due to increasing illness. Benedetta diagnosed herself with neurofibromatosis. There are several iterations of this cruel disease, and in Benedetta’s case, it attacked the nerve centers of her body, forming tumors on them and gradually causing total deafness, blindness, and later, paralysis. As Benedetta’s world shrank, she demonstrated extraordinary courage and holiness and was visited by many who sought her counsel and intercession. She was able to communicate when her mother would sign the Italian alphabet into her left palm, one of the few areas of her body that remained functional. Her mother would sign letters, messages, and Scripture painstakingly into Benedetta’s palm, and Benedetta would reply verbally despite her voice having been weakened to a whisper. “They’d come and go in groups of ten and fifteen,” said Maria Grazia, one of Benedetta’s closest confidantes. “With her mother as interpreter, she was able to communicate with each one. It seemed as though she could read our innermost souls with extreme clarity, even though she couldn’t hear or see us. I will always remember her with her hand extended ready to receive the Word of God and her brothers and sisters.” (Beyond Silence, Life Diary Letters of Benedetta Bianchi Porro) It’s not that Benedetta never experienced agony or even anger at this disease that was robbing her of the ability to become a medical doctor, but in accepting it, she became a doctor of another sort, a kind of surgeon to the soul. She was, indeed, a spiritual doctor. In the end, Benedetta was no less a healer than she ever desired to be. Her life had shrunken all the way down to the palm of her hand, it was no bigger than a Communion host—and yet, just like a Blessed Communion Host, it had become more powerful than she would have ever imagined. It is impossible to miss the correlation between Benedetta’s life and Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament who is hidden and small too, silent and even weak, but an ever-present friend to us. Towards the end of her life, she wrote to a young man who suffered similarly: “Because I'm deaf and blind, things have become complicated for me … Nevertheless, in my Calvary, I do not lack hope. I know that at the end of the road, Jesus is waiting for me. First in my armchair, and now in my bed where I now stay, I have found wisdom greater than that of men—I have discovered that God exists, that He is love, faithfulness, joy, certitude, to the end of the ages … My days are not easy. They are hard. But sweet because Jesus is with me, with my sufferings, and He gives me His sweetness in my loneliness and light in the darkness. He smiles at me and accepts my collaboration.” (Venerable Benedetta Biancho Porro, by Dom Antoine Marie, OSB) A Compelling Reminder Benedetta passed away on January 23, 1964. She was 27 years old. She was venerated on December 23, 1993, by Pope John Paul II and beatified on September 14, 2019, by Pope Francis. One of the great gifts that the Saints bring to the Church is that they give us a clear picture of what virtue looks like, even in incredibly difficult circumstances. We need to ‘see ourselves’ in the lives of the Saints in order to be strengthened for our own. Blessed Benedetta is truly a model of sanctity for our times. She is a compelling reminder that even a life filled with serious limitations can be a powerful catalyst for hope and conversion in the world and that the Lord knows and fulfills the deepest desire of every heart, often in surprising ways. A Prayer to Blessed Benedetta Blessed Benedetta, your world became as small as a communion wafer. You were immobilized, deaf, and blind, and yet you were a powerful witness to the love of God and the Blessed Mother. Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament is hidden and small too, silent, immobilized, and even weak—and still all-powerful, ever present to us. Please pray for me, Benedetta, that I will collaborate, as you did, with Jesus, in whatever way He wishes to use me. May I be granted the grace to allow the Almighty Father to speak through my littleness and loneliness, too, for the glory of God and the salvation of souls. Amen.
By: Liz Kelly Stanchina
MoreQ - My many Christian friends celebrate ‘Communion’ every Sunday, and they argue that the Eucharistic presence of Christ is only spiritual. I believe Christ is present in the Eucharist, but is there any way to explain it to them? A – It is indeed an incredible claim to say that at every Mass, a small piece of bread and a small chalice of wine become the very flesh and blood of God Himself. It is not a sign or a symbol, but truly the body, blood, soul, and divinity of Jesus. How can we make this claim? There are three reasons why we believe this. First, Jesus Christ said so Himself. In John’s Gospel, Chapter 6, Jesus says: “Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you do not have life within you. Whoever eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day. For My flesh is true food, and My blood is true drink. Whoever eats My flesh and drinks My blood remains in Me and I in him.” Whenever Jesus says, “Amen, Amen, I say to you…”, this is a sign that what He is about to say is completely literal. Further, Jesus uses the Greek word trogon which is translated ‘to eat’—but really means ‘to chew, gnaw, or rip with one’s teeth.’ It’s a very graphic verb which can only be used literally. Also, consider the reaction of His hearers; they walked away! It says in John 6: “as a result of this [teaching], many of His disciples returned to their former way of life and no longer accompanied Him.” Does Jesus chase them down, tell them that they misunderstood Him? No, He allows them to leave—because He was serious about this teaching that the Eucharist is truly His flesh and blood! Second, we believe because the Church has always taught it from its earliest days. I once asked a priest why there was no mention of the Eucharist in the Creed which we profess every Sunday—and he replied that it was because no one debated His Real Presence, so it wasn’t necessary to officially define it! Many of the Church Fathers wrote about the Eucharist—for example, Saint Justin Martyr, writing around the year 150 AD, penned these words: “For not as common bread and common drink do we receive these; but we have been taught that the food which is blessed by the prayer of His word, and from which our blood and flesh are nourished, is the flesh and blood of that Jesus who was made flesh.” Every Church Father is in agreement—the Eucharist is truly His flesh and blood. Finally, our faith is strengthened through the many Eucharistic miracles in the history of the Church—over 150 officially documented miracles. Perhaps the most famous occurred in Lanciano, Italy in the 800s, where a priest who doubted Christ’s presence was shocked to find that the Host became visible flesh, while the wine became visible as blood. Later scientific tests discovered that the Host was heart flesh from a human male, type AB blood (very common among Jewish men). The heart flesh had been badly beaten and bruised. The blood had congealed into five clumps, symbolizing the five wounds of Christ, and miraculously the weight of one of the clumps is equal to the weight of all five taken together! Scientists cannot explain how this flesh and blood has lasted for twelve hundred years, which is an inexplicable miracle in itself. But how can we explain how this happens? We make a distinction between accidents (what something looks like, smells like, tastes like, etc) and substance (what something actually is). When I was a young child, I was at my friend’s house, and when she left the room, I saw a cookie sitting on a plate. It looked delectable, smelled like vanilla, and so I took a bite…and it was soap! I was so disappointed, but it taught me that my senses could not always decipher what something actually is. In the Eucharist, the substance of bread and wine change into the substance of Christ’s body and blood (a process known as transubstantiation), while the accidents (the taste, smell, look) remain the same. It does indeed take faith to recognize that Jesus is truly present, since it cannot be perceived by our senses, nor is it something we can deduce with our logic and reason. But if Jesus Christ is God and He cannot lie, I am willing to believe that He is not a sign or symbol, but truly present in the Most Blessed Sacrament!
By: Father Joseph Gill
MoreMy new hero is Mother Alfred Moes. I realize that she is not a household name, even among Catholics, but she should be. She came on my radar screen only after I became the Bishop of the Diocese of Winona-Rochester, where Mother Alfred did most of her work and where she lies buried. Hers is a story of remarkable courage, faith, perseverance, and sheer moxie. Trust me, once you take in the details of her adventures, you will be put in mind of a number of other gritty Catholic Mothers: Cabrini, Teresa, Drexel, and Angelica, to name a few. Mother Alfred was born Maria Catherine Moes in Luxembourg in 1828. As a young girl, she became fascinated by the possibility of doing missionary work among the native peoples of North America. Accordingly, she journeyed with her sister to the New World in 1851. First, she joined the School Sisters of Notre Dame in Milwaukee but then transferred to the Holy Cross Sisters in La Porte, Indiana, a group associated with Father Sorin, CSC, the founder of the University of Notre Dame. After clashing with her superiors—a rather typical happenstance for this very feisty and confident lady—she made her way to Joliet, Illinois, where she became superior of a new congregation of Franciscan sisters, taking the name ‘Mother Alfred.’ When Bishop Foley of Chicago tried to interfere with the finances and building projects of her community, she set out for greener pastures in Minnesota, where the great Archbishop Ireland took her in and allowed her to establish a school in Rochester. It was in that tiny town in southern Minnesota that God commenced to work powerfully through her. In 1883, a terrible tornado tore through Rochester, killing many and leaving many others homeless and destitute. A local doctor, William Worrall Mayo, undertook the task of caring for the victims of the disaster. Overwhelmed by the number of injured, he called upon Mother Alfred’s sisters to help him. Though they were teachers rather than nurses and had no formal training in medicine, they accepted the mission. In the wake of the debacle, Mother calmly informed Doctor Mayo that she had a vision that a hospital should be built in Rochester, not simply to serve that local community, but rather the whole world. Astonished by this utterly unrealistic proposal, Doctor Mayo told Mother that she would need to raise $40,000 (an astronomical figure for that time and place) in order to build such a facility. She in turn told the doctor that if she managed to raise the funds and build the hospital, she expected him and his two physician sons to staff the place. Within a short span of time, she procured the money, and the Saint Mary’s Hospital was established. As I’m sure you’ve already surmised, this was the seed from which the mighty Mayo Clinic would grow, a hospital system that indeed, as Mother Alfred envisioned long ago, serves the entire world. This intrepid nun continued her work as builder, organizer, and administrator, not only of the hospital that she had founded, but of a number of other institutions in southern Minnesota until her death in 1899 at the age of seventy-one. Just a few weeks ago, I wrote about the pressing need in our diocese for priests, and I urged everyone to become part of a mission to increase vocations to the priesthood. With Mother Alfred in mind, might I take the occasion now to call for more vocations to women’s religious life? Somehow the last three generations of women have tended to see religious life as unworthy of their consideration. The number of nuns has plummeted since the Second Vatican Council, and most Catholics, when asked about this, would probably say that being a religious sister is just not a viable prospect in our feminist age. Nonsense! Mother Alfred left her home as a very young woman, crossed the ocean to a foreign land, became a religious, followed her instincts and sense of mission, even when this brought her into conflict with powerful superiors, including a number of Bishops, inspired Doctor Mayo to establish the most impressive medical center on the planet, and presided over the development of an order of sisters who went on to build and staff numerous institutions of healing and teaching. She was a woman of extraordinary intelligence, drive, passion, courage, and inventiveness. If someone had suggested to her that she was living a life unworthy of her gifts or beneath her dignity, I imagine she would have a few choice words in response. You’re looking for a feminist hero? You can keep Gloria Steinem; I’ll take Mother Alfred any day of the week. So, if you know a young woman who would make a good religious, who is marked by smarts, energy, creativity, and get-up-and-go, share with her the story of Mother Alfred Moes. And tell her that she might aspire to that same kind of heroism.
By: Bishop Robert Barron
MoreIn the early 1900s, Pope Leo XIII requested the congregation of Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart to go to the United States to minister to the significant number of Italian immigrants there. The congregation’s founder, Mother Cabrini, desired to do a mission in China, but obediently heeded the Church’s call and embarked on a long journey across the sea. As she had nearly drowned as a child, she formed a great fear of water. Still, in obedience, she...across the sea. On arrival, she and her sisters found that their financial aid had not been sanctioned, and they had no place to live. These faithful daughters of the Sacred Heart persevered and began serving the people on the margins. In a few years, her mission among the immigrants flourished so fruitfully that till her passing, this aquaphobic nun made 23 transatlantic trips around the world, founding educational and healthcare facilities in France, Spain, Great Britain, and South America. Her obedience and attentiveness to the Church’s missionary call was eternally rewarded. Today, the Church venerates her as the patron saint of immigrants and hospital administrators.
By: Shalom Tidings
MoreRani Maria Vattalil was born on 29 January 1954 to Eleeswa and Paily Vattalil in a small village called Pulluvazhy, in Kerala, India. From a young age, she was brought up in the Christian faith, having love for the poor. She attended daily Mass and led family prayers. During the final year of high school, Rani felt the Lord calling her to consecrated life and entered the Franciscan Clarist Congregation in 1972. It was Rani Maria’s ardent desire to do missionary work in North India and serve the poor, even if it cost her life. She was sent to Madhya Pradesh (a central Indian state) and served several mission areas there. Sister Rani Maria was given the responsibility of coordinating the social apostolate of the local diocese. She organized various educational programs for children and young people and worked relentlessly to empower the indigenous people. She understood how the poor, illiterate farmers were exploited and taken advantage of by their landlords. So, she educated them on their rights, helped them fight for justice, and spoke for those who were unjustly imprisoned. All this infuriated the upperclass landlords, who threatened her with dire consequences if she continued supporting the cause of the poor. But Rani Maria feared nothing and did not back down from her mission to 'love her neighbor.' A devious plan was then hatched by those who hated her. On 25th February 1995, while traveling by bus, she was mercilessly stabbed 54 times by Samundhar Singh—a man hired by the landlords. She breathed her last, repeating the Holy name of Jesus. Rani Maria worked her entire life to fight for the dignity and rights of her fellow men and bore witness to the Gospel through her social activities. Sister Rani Maria’s family, following the valiant example of their daughter, forgave her murderer wholeheartedly, even inviting him to their home! This act of mercy touched him deeply; he repented of his heinous crime and became a changed man. Sister Rani Maria was beatified by Pope Francis on 4th November 2017.
By: Shalom Tidings
MoreWherever you are and whatever you do, you are irrevocably called to this great mission in life. In the mid-eighties, Australian director Peter Weir made his first American film, a successful thriller, Witness, which starred Harrison Ford. The movie is about a young boy who sees the murder of an undercover police officer by corrupt co-workers, and he’s hidden away in an Amish community for protection. As the story unfolds, he recalls what happened by putting the pieces together and then, he tells the Ford character named John Book (note the Gospel symbolism). The movie contains the marks of a witness: one sees, recalls, and tells. Circling Back Jesus showed Himself to His innermost circle so that the truth of His Resurrection would reach everyone through them. He opened the minds of His disciples to the mystery of His Death and Resurrection saying: “You are witness to these things” (Luke 24:48). Having seen Him with their own eyes, the Apostles could not remain silent about this incredible experience. What’s true for the Apostles is also true for us because we are members of the Church, the mystical Body of Christ. Jesus commissioned his disciples to “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” (Matthew 28:19) As missionary disciples, we testify that Jesus is alive. The only way we can enthusiastically and steadfastly embrace this Mission is to see through the eyes of faith that Jesus is Risen, that He is alive, and present within and among us. That’s what a witness does. Circling back, how does one ‘see’ the Risen Christ? Jesus instructed us: “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” (John 12:23-24) Put simply, if we really want to ‘see’ Jesus, if we want to know Him deeply and personally, and if we want to understand Him, we have to look to the grain of wheat that dies in the soil: in other words, we have to look to the Cross. The Sign of the Cross marks a radical shift from self-reference (Ego-drama) to being Christ-centered (Theo-drama). In itself, the Cross can only express love, service, and unreserved self-giving. It is only through sacrificial giving of the self for the praise and glory of God and the good of others that we can see Christ and enter Trinitarian Love. Only in this way can we be grafted onto the ‘Tree of Life’ and truly ‘see’ Jesus. Jesus is Life itself. And we are hard-wired to seek Life because we are made in God’s image. That’s why we’re drawn to Jesus—to ‘see’ Jesus, meet Him, know Him, and fall in love with Him. That’s the only way we can be effective witnesses to the Risen Christ. The Hidden Seed We too must respond with the witness of a life that is given in service, a life that is patterned after the Way of Jesus, which is a life of sacrificial self-giving for the good of others, recalling that the Lord came to us as servants. Practically speaking, how can we live such a radical life? Jesus told His disciples: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be My witnesses.” (Acts 1:8) The Holy Spirit, just as He did at the first Pentecost, frees our hearts chained by fear. He overcomes our resistance to do our Father’s will, and He empowers us to give witness that Jesus is Risen, He is alive and He is present now and forever! How does the Holy Spirit do this? By renewing our hearts, pardoning our sins, and infusing us with the seven gifts that enable us to follow the Way of Jesus. It is only through the Cross of the hidden seed, ready to die, that we can truly ‘see’ Jesus and therefore give witness to Him. It is only through this intertwining of death and life that we can experience the joy and fruitfulness of a love that flows from the heart of the Risen Christ. It is only through the power of the Spirit that we reach the fullness of the Life He gifted us with. So, as we celebrate Pentecost, let us resolve by the gift of Faith to be witnesses of the Risen Lord and bring the Paschal gifts of joy and peace to the people we encounter. Alleluia!
By: Deacon Jim McFadden
MoreThere are things more than your eyes can see… A man was exploring caves by the seashore when he found a canvas bag containing hardened clay balls. It was as if someone had rolled up some clay and left them out in the sun to bake. The clay balls didn't look like much, but they intrigued the man, so he took the bag with him. As he strolled along the beach to pass the time, he threw the clay balls one by one into the ocean as far as he could. He thought little of it until he dropped one of the balls, which cracked open on a rock. Inside was a beautiful, precious stone. Excited, the man began breaking open the remaining clay balls and found a hidden treasure within each one. He discovered thousands of dollars' worth of jewels in the twenty or so clay balls he had left. Then it struck him. He had thrown maybe fifty or sixty clay balls containing hidden treasure into the ocean waves. Instead of thousands of dollars in treasure, he could have had tens of thousands, but he just threw it all away. At times, it's like that with people, too, that is, when we look at someone or maybe even ourselves, we tend to see only the external clay vessel. It doesn't look much from the outside or may not always be beautiful and sparkling, and we often regard that person as less important than someone more beautiful or renowned. But if you take time to get to know that person and if you ask the Holy Spirit to show you that person the way He sees them, then the brilliant gem begins to shine forth. The beauty of friendship goes beyond just a helping hand, a warm smile, or the joy of spending time together. It truly shines when you realize that someone believes in you and is ready to share their trust and friendship with you. Look Inside Each one of us is truly God's wonderful creation. He created each of us in His image and endowed each person with unique abilities. To unravel the inner beauty from the depths of our souls, we need to be touched by the true and unconditional love that will radically transform us into our true selves. That genuine and unconditional love comes first from God, who has loved humanity from all eternity, even before the creation of the universe, and that love has always been given to us through God's beloved Son, Jesus Christ. Through His self-sacrificing love, God's only-begotten Son shed His blood for the redemption of humanity and to atone for our sins so that we might be reconciled with God. Beauty is like a precious jewel that will shine daily through our good actions for others and our authentic lives. We should be able to realize the beauty and nobility in the very hearts of others, given by God himself when He placed us in this universe. Only true and unconditional love can inspire and transform us into people who know how to live for others and are ready to commit themselves to selfless service.
By: Father Peter Hung Tran
MoreI have been reading, with both profit and delight, Thomas Joseph White’s latest book: The Incarnate Lord: A Thomistic Study in Christology. Father White, one of the brightest of a new generation of Thomas interpreters, explores a range of topics in this text—the relationship between Jesus’ human and divine natures, whether the Lord experienced the beatific vision, the theological significance of Christ’s cry of anguish on the cross, His descent into Hell, etc.—but for the purposes of this article, I want to focus on a theme of particular significance in the theological and catechetical context today. Father White argues that the classical tradition of Christology, with its roots in the texts of the Gospels and the Epistles of Paul, understood Jesus ontologically, that is to say, in terms of His fundamental being or existential identity; whereas modern and contemporary Christology tends to understand Jesus psychologically or relationally. And though this distinction seems, prima facie, rather arcane, it has tremendous significance for our preaching, teaching, and evangelizing. In the famous scene at Caesarea-Philippi, Jesus turns to His Apostles and asks: “Who do people say that I am?” He doesn’t ask what people are saying about His preaching or His miracle-working or His impact on the culture; He asks who they say He is. Saint John’s Gospel commences with a magnificent assertion regarding, not the teaching of the Lord, but rather His being: “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God…and the Word was made flesh and dwelled among us.” In his letter to the Philippians, Saint Paul writes: “Though He was in the form of God, Jesus did not deem equality with God a thing to be grasped at,” implying thereby an ontological identity between Jesus and the God of Israel. Following these prompts—and there are many others in the New Testament—the great theological tradition continued to speculate about the ontology of the Founder. Councils from Nicea to Chalcedon formulated ever more precise articulations of the being, nature, and person of Jesus, and the most significant theologians of the early centuries—Origen, Irenaeus, Gregory of Nyssa, Maximus the Confessor, Augustine, etc.—tirelessly speculated about these same matters. This preoccupation with the being of Jesus signals, by the way, a major point of demarcation between Christianity and the other great religions of the world. Buddhists are massively interested in the teaching of the Buddha, but they are more or less indifferent to the ontology of the Buddha; no self-respecting Muslim worries about the existential make-up of Muhammad; and no Jew is preoccupied with the ‘being’ of Moses or Abraham. Father White points out that the time-honored practice of ontological speculation regarding Jesus comes to a kind of climax with the meticulously nuanced teaching of Saint Thomas Aquinas in the High Middle Ages. However, commencing in the eighteenth century with the thought of Friedrich Schleiermacher, Christology took a decisive turn. Attempting to make the claims of the Christian faith more intelligible to a modern audience, Schleiermacher explained the Incarnation in terms of Jesus’ relationship to and awareness of God. Here is a particularly clear articulation of his position: “The Redeemer, then, is like all men in virtue of the identity of human nature, but distinguished from them all by the constant potency of His God-consciousness, which was a veritable existence of God in Him.” Armies of theologians—both Protestant and Catholic—have raced down the Schleiermacher Autobahn these past two hundred years, adopting a ‘consciousness Christology’ rather than an ‘ontological Christology.’ I can testify that my theological training in the seventies and eighties of the last century was very much conditioned by this approach. Father White strenuously insists that this change represents a severe declension in Christian theology, and I think he’s right. The abandonment of an ontological approach has myriad negative consequences, but I will focus on just a few. First, it effectively turns Jesus into a type of super-Saint, different perhaps in degree from other holy people, but not in kind. Hence, on this reading, it is not the least bit clear why Jesus is of any greater significance than other religious figures and founders. If He is a Saint, even a great one, well people can argue so is Confucius, so is the Buddha, so are the Sufi mystics and Hindu sages, and so in their own way are Socrates, Walt Whitman, and Albert Schweitzer. If Jesus mediates the divine to you, well and good, but why should you feel any particular obligation to propose Him to someone else, who is perhaps more moved by a saintly person from another religious tradition? Indeed, if ‘God-consciousness’ is the issue, who are we to say that Jesus’ was any wider or deeper than Saint Francis’ or Mother Teresa’s? In a word, the motivation for real evangelization more or less dissipates when one navigates the Schleiermacher highway. More fundamentally, when the stress is placed on Jesus’ human consciousness of God, the spiritual weight falls overwhelmingly on the side of immanence. What I mean is our quest for God, our search for the divine, and our growth in spiritual awareness become paramount, rather than what God has uniquely accomplished and established. When the Church says that Jesus is God, She means that the divine life, through the graceful intervention of God, has become available to the world in an utterly unique manner. She furthermore means that She herself—in Her preaching, Her formal teaching, in Her sacraments, and in Her Saints—is the privileged vehicle through which this life now flows into human hearts and into the culture. It is easy enough to see that the transition from an ontological Christology to a consciousness Christology has conduced toward all manner of relativism, subjectivism, indifferentism, and the attenuation of evangelical zeal. One of my constant themes when I was professor and rector at Mundelein Seminary was that ideas have consequences. I realize that much of what Father White discusses in his book can seem hopelessly abstract, but he is in fact putting his finger on a shift that has had a huge impact on the life of the post-conciliar Church.
By: Bishop Robert Barron
MoreAre you joyful or glum? Do you find it exciting, or are you just going through the motions? “God so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son” is the key to and, indeed, the very heart of the Gospel. The Gospel message is not a slogan or a brand label that distinguishes Christianity from other religions; it is not an idea or a doctrine; it is not a self-help theory to attain happiness. Rather, it is about a person, Jesus himself, whom the Father has given to us so that we might have eternal life. Jesus becomes the source of our joy, the feeling in the soul that comes from the experience of being accompanied and loved every moment of our journey towards our eternal destiny. God the Father has always looked upon us with love; it’s as though He can’t help Himself because, as the evangelist proclaims in his First Letter: “God is love” (1 John 4:8). And, for the sake of love, He came among us in the flesh of His only begotten Son. In Jesus, He went in search of us when we were lost following the rebellion against God in the Garden (cf. Genesis 3). In Jesus, He came to raise us when we fell. In Jesus, He weeps with us when we experience crushing loss and heals our wounds. In Jesus, we are never lost; we are always loved. Boundless Love If hearing about God’s love for you does not expand your heart and make you appreciate the immensity of God’s love for you, one may ask what is going on?! Maybe we prefer a glum, dour Christianity about rules and regulations with its inherent rewards and punishments. Maybe we’re just sad because, to put it bluntly, we’re just self-absorbed even though we profess to be disciples of Jesus. If that’s the case, we then need to hit the pause button and really listen to the Good News, on a daily basis. God loves you so much that He gave His entire life for you. If that doesn’t make you joyful, what more can God do to convince you? In turn, since you are made in the image of God, who is Love, this surely means we are most human when we love. That is the key to understanding your life, which is no longer about you, but about God, who is self-giving generosity. It is awesome to witness elderly couples who love each other so much that they give their lives to each other ‘until death do we part.’ They get it! In the end, it’s not how productive we were or how much wealth we generated, or how successful we were; rather, the only thing that really matters is the love that we were able to give and receive. That is God’s stuff!
By: Deacon Jim McFadden
MoreHollywood actress Diana Rein opens up about how her life changed drastically when she discovered her life’s purpose. I was three when we migrated from Romania to the United States. Although my dad was a music professor in Romania, he took the job of a janitor when we moved here, and my mom took one at the Drake Hotel. It was my parents who initially noticed my growing interest in the arts. As a very creative little girl with a love for music and a flair for comedy, I thought I would be a comedian one day. At 11, while I was narrating the book Snowman Who Wanted To Meet July in a studio in Chicago, the producer of the show asked me if I had ever thought about acting. He later introduced me to an agency that sent me for an acting audition, which booked me for Home Alone. They announced it over the intercom at school, and it was a wow moment for me. When I entered the sets of Home Alone, I saw what this world was like with lights, cameras, and craft services…It all felt like a dream moment for me. The money I made from the movie really helped my family, and I thought that if I kept going, I could continue to help my family. I thought this was my destiny, and I soon moved to California with Hollywood dreams. My parents believed in my plans and let me apply to the BFA acting program(Bachelor of Fine Arts) in a college there, though I knew that this meant going home only for Christmas and Summer. I was so driven that I felt my talent would take me to higher places, and I knew this was my purpose. But after three years, I had to leave school as my family couldn’t afford it anymore. I stayed in Los Angeles and went to auditions. I was all set to recreate that feeling I got when I walked into the Home Alone sets, but it was just an uphill climb. There were opportunities, but I didn't go for them as I felt that they were not the right ones. Soon, I really felt lost. In those days, I began going to bookshops and got indulged in metaphysical, quantum-physics crystals, and everything else, but not Christianity. It was like being on a different road all the time. I thought that what the culture deemed successful was the right way, but it only made me struggle more. A Second Shot After about five years, I asked my parents to come and take me home, and right before I left California, my aunt's stepson contacted me. I was very reluctant to talk to him at first, but I noticed that there was just goodness in his soul, and he was talking a lot about Jesus and wanted to help my family. I found out that he was going to a Christian church, and there was just something about him that inspired me. I moved back to Chicago with my parents and started going to a Christian church, where I became a part of the choir. Things went fine for a while. Then I went to a birthday party for my friend in the city where I met my husband-to-be. After we got married, I convinced my husband to move to Los Angeles because I still had this unfulfilled dream. The whole time I was in Chicago, I was actually dreaming about living in Los Angeles. I seriously felt that I could have a second shot. But while we lived in Los Angeles, we felt disconnected and did separate things. I had written, filmed, and produced a short film, Gypsy Gift, just before I had my son. The moment I held him turned out to be a wow moment for me, and it changed my whole perspective. However, I didn't quite change because I still felt like I needed to succeed at something and be a role model for him. That’s when my music career began. While my mom watched over my child for three hours, I learned how to record, mix, and edit music. Finally, I made my own album called Long Road in 2015 and released it in 2016. Lost Identity Every musician’s dream is to get signed to a label, and I got it with my next album, Queen of My Castle, for which I got the blues label. I felt like I was reaching my dream of winning awards and going on a music tour. We went on a five-week tour in a van, and I had to leave my son with my mother, which was heartbreaking. Right into the third week of the pandemic, COVID stopped us, and we had to go back home. Though I was happy that I could see my son, I had to wait in quarantine for about two weeks. In the meantime, I did Facebook Live with my music, but strangely, I felt isolated. I began questioning things, and that's when the seeds planted earlier in life started gaining ground for my real relationship with Jesus. I began reading the Bible and also at the same time, I started praying. I felt my musical identity was shattered, and I didn't see a purpose in it and was not willing to travel anymore. However, I wanted to create a happy environment for my son. I bought a record player, and I still remember playing a Christian station all the time. Little by little, we began to learn those songs and ended up going to a Church. God worked through our lives and changed us completely, and God became our foundation. In Him, we put our trust, and we began feeling His guidance in every place. And the biggest comfort is to know that we are never alone. I was striving so hard but with a selfish intention. My heart was transformed from a more selfish heart to a Jesus-driven heart. I wrote my first Christian song, With Every Breath, which echoed my feelings of being lost in the wilderness. Living His Way I never thought in a million years that I would be doing woodwork. Jesus was a carpenter and it made me feel like I was doing something closer to God. I made wood signs with God's messages and verses on them, and that became my way of sharing God with other people. I realized that my identity is not in what movie I did or what song I did but in Christ. He gave me a talent for a reason, but I've always used it for self-serving but now it’s completely changed. I now take the back seat while God takes the front seat of my life. Program Article - Jesus my Savior - https://share.shalomworld.org/64e4721138ad710c1a0b3992/episode/Home
By: Diana Rein
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