Every Step Counts

The Question of Why Physicist Christian Simon, 33, was an atheist for a long time and expected answers to all of life's pressing questions from science— until he came up against its limits I grew up Catholic, received all the sacraments as is customary, and was also quite devout as a child. Unfortunately, over time I developed a terribly false image of God: God as a stern judge who throws sinners into hell, but otherwise very distant and not really interested in me. I doubted very much that God meant me well. In my youth, I even became more and more convinced that God had something against me. I imagined that He always did exactly the opposite of what I had asked Him to do. At some point it was over for me. I didn't want to know anything more about God. Religion—A Thing for Weirdos At the age of about 18, I was convinced that there was no God at all. For me, only what I could experience with my senses or what could be measured by the natural sciences counted. Religion seemed to me to be only something for weirdos who either had too much imagination or were simply totally indoctrinated and had never questioned their faith. I was convinced that if everyone were as smart as I was, no one would believe in God anymore. After a few years of self-employment, I started studying physics at the age of 26. I was burningly interested in how the world works and hoped to find my answers in physics. Who could blame me? Physics can seem very mysterious with its incredibly sophisticated mathematics that very few people in the world understand. It's easy to get the idea that if you could just crack these coded forms and symbols, unimagined horizons of knowledge would open up—and that literally anything would then be possible. After studying all sorts of subfields of physics, and even getting to grips with the most up-to-date fundamental physics, I sat down to work on my master's thesis on an abstract theoretical topic—one which I wasn’t convinced would ever have any relation to the real world. I finally became very aware of the limits of physics: the highest goal physics could ever reach would be a complete mathematical description of nature. And that is already very optimistic thinking. At best, physics can describe how something works, but never why it works exactly the way it does and not differently. But this question about the why was tormenting me at this time. The Probability of God For reasons I cannot satisfactorily explain, I was gripped in the fall of 2019 by the question of whether there is a God after all. It was a question I had asked myself on and off, but this time it wouldn't let me go. It demanded an answer, and I would not stop until I found it. There was no key experience, no stroke of fate that would have led to it. Even Corona was not an issue at that time. For half a year I devoured everything I could find on the subject of "God" every day. During this time I did almost nothing else, so much did the question captivate me. I wanted to know if God existed and what the various religions and worldviews had to say about it. In doing so, my approach was very scientific. I thought that once I had collected all the arguments and clues, I would eventually be able to determine the probability as to whether God existed. If it were greater than 50 percent, then I would believe in God, otherwise not. Quite simple, isn't it? Not really! During this intense period of research, I learned an incredible amount. First, I realized that I would not reach my goal with reason alone. Second, I had thought through to the end the consequences of a reality without God. I inevitably came to the conclusion that in a world without God, everything would ultimately be meaningless. Certainly, one can try to give meaning even to one's life, but what would that be but an illusion, a conceit, a lie? From a purely scientific point of view, we know that at some point in the universe all the lights will go out. If nothing exists beyond that, what difference do my small and large decisions, indeed anything at all, make? Faced with this sad prospect of a world without God, I decided in the spring of 2020 to give Him a second chance. What could it hurt to just pretend to believe in God for a while, and try everything that people who believe in God do? So I tried praying, attended church services, and just wanted to see what that would do to me. Of course, my basic openness to the existence of God didn't make me a Christian yet; after all, there were other religions. But my research had quickly convinced me that the resurrection of Jesus was a historical fact. For me, the authority of the Church as well as the Holy Scriptures follows from this. Proof of God So, what came out of my experiment in "faith"? The Holy Spirit awakened my conscience from its years of hibernation. He made it very clear to me that I needed radically to change my life. And He welcomed me with open arms. Basically, my story is in the biblical parable of the prodigal son (Luke 15:11-32). I received the sacrament of reconciliation for the first time with all my strength. To this day, after each confession, I feel as if I have been reborn. I feel it all over my body: the relief, the overflowing love of God that washes away all cloudiness of the soul. This experience alone is proof of God for me, as it far exceeds any scientific attempt at explanation. In addition, God has gifted me with a plethora of great encounters in the last two years. Right at the beginning, when I started attending church services, I met a person who was just perfect for me in my situation at that time with all my questions and problems. To this day he is a faithful and good friend. Since then, almost every month great new people have come into my life, who have helped me enormously on my way to Jesus—and this process is still going on! "Happy coincidences" of this kind have accumulated to such an overwhelming extent that I am no longer able to believe in coincidences. Today, I have fully focused my life on Jesus. Of course, I fail at it every day! But I also get back up every time. Thank God that God is merciful! I get to know Him a little better every day and am allowed to leave the old Christian Simon behind. This is often very painful, but always healing and I go on strengthened. The regular reception of the Eucharist contributes a great part to my strengthening. A life without Jesus is unimaginable for me today. I seek Him in daily prayer, praise, Scripture, service to others, and the sacraments. No one has ever loved me as He does. And to Him belongs my heart. For all time.

If you open your heart today, you can change the world! Daniella Stephans describes her incredible journey of finding love that never ends I was a cradle Catholic, growing up in the heart of a Catholic family with 7 children. We went to Mass regularly and I felt drawn to learn more about my faith, to imitate the saints and felt attracted to the beautiful images which spoke to me about the presence of the Lord. He planted the seed of love into my life from a young age. When I was given the choice in my teens, I continued to go to Mass, even when some of my siblings didn’t, out of simple obedience. I always wanted to do the right thing and never wanted to get in trouble. I didn’t want to disappoint my parents and I knew it was a sin to deliberately miss Mass on Sundays. However, I never really understood what was going on. I was just ticking off boxes through the different parts of the Mass. Although I felt that God was close to me, I didn’t know Him personally and still felt a gaping, throbbing hole in my heart. When I was really busy during the week, I didn’t have time to worry about it, but on weekends, I felt consumed by this deep loneliness. Falling in Love I was at the age, where I felt attracted by all that the material world had to offer, so I tried to solve my problem by drinking and going out to parties with friends, but that gaping hole remained unfilled. I felt rejected, lonely and disappointed. Although I wanted to be free to do my own thing, I was battling with my conscience which was telling me that so much of what I wanted to do was wrong. God hadn’t made me for that. I read in the Bible about Jacob wrestling with an angel and I could really relate to that. As I was praying about all this at Mass one Sunday, I realized that I was in self-denial. God had a better plan for the life that He wanted me to live. Gazing up at a statue of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, I could sense that He was knocking on the door to my heart, asking to come in, but I was too scared to accept this amazing gift because I feared that Jesus would come in and take away my freedom. Until that moment, it was fear of getting in trouble that had kept me from worse sins. Then, somehow, by the grace of God, I found myself saying, “Right, Lord, I’ll give you a chance.” In that moment, I looked up and for the first time noticed a picture of Jesus being baptised. He looked so strong humble and gentle. Instantly my heart changed. The fear melted away, the gaping hole was filled with incredible warmth and I fell in love with Jesus. This moment changed everything. I walked out of church feeling alive. I felt like the woman who touched the hem of Jesus’ garment and was healed instantly, freed of all my pain. I had been scared that if I let him into my heart, He would take away my freedom, but I was wrong. The cleft in the rock in which God placed Moses is analogous to the hole pierced in the side of Christ. I felt that Christ had pulled me into His Sacred Heart where I could be kept close and protected and He could talk to me as a friend speaks to a friend, just like Moses when he spoke with the Lord. The Dark Hole The more I sought out personal encounters with the Lord at daily Mass and Adoration, the closer I felt to Him. So, I studied Theology and as I came to know God more intimately, He revealed Himself to me even more, even in times of tragedy, like my brother’s death. At the time, I was struggling with finding my identity after finishing my studies and feeling fearful of the future. I couldn’t feel His presence anymore and wondered if God had abandoned me. I knew all the words Jesus had said, “I am the Way, the Truth and the Life... I am the Resurrection and the life.” but now my belief was being tested. Was it all true? In the silence as I sat in my brother’s room, gazing at his empty bed, I remembered how Jesus had told Martha, “Your brother will rise again,” and felt that He was saying those words to me. When I went to World Youth Day, I felt a bit lost in the huge crowd. As I looked out around at all these people, I asked Jesus, “Lord, how do you love all these people and love me as well?” God showed me how He saw each one as an individual with whom He has a personal relationship. God gazes on each one of us with a unique and individual love. He loves you like no-one else, because there is no-one else in the world like you. God loves you uniquely, personally and individually. There is no-one from Adam to the end of time who has ever been exactly like you. So, when you feel His love personally, He sees you as the unique individual you are, in a way that no-one else can. He gave Himself up for each one of us. When He was on the Cross, He was thinking about each one of us personally by name. Banishing My Fears Jesus showed me that my image of the Father had been flawed. I had felt that God was condemning me, that I was in trouble. I feared His justice, but I was wrong. Jesus came into the world to reveal the Father’s love for us in His plan for our salvation—to heal the rift between God and Man by living among us. He even told us that if we had seen Him, we had seen the Father. He showed me that gaping hole in my heart was meant to be filled by God, and when I let Him in, He set me free indeed. We are made by God and for God, so when I invited Him in, He filled me with His warm and loving presence, banishing the depression and restlessness which had been troubling me. When we try to fill that God-shaped hole with other things, they all fall short, because He is infinite and irreplaceable. It reminded me of how we are warned that "putting the wrong fuel in a vehicle can cause havoc to your journey and potentially cause extensive damage to your car engine.” Your heart is your engine and it needs the right fuel to prevent the damage that sin causes. Daily Mass, regular Confession, prayer, Adoration, Bible reading and faith study, and a deeper relationship with Our Lady have been the fuel that has restored my heart and given me the grace to live my life in personal encounter with God. He called me to go deeper. Although it’s sometimes painful to take up my cross and follow Him daily, He has led me through trial and temptation and expanded my capacity to receive and share His love. Amidst Your Struggles Every day, the Enemy, Satan is trying to discourage us and turn us from God’s love. He doesn’t want us to know and experience what God has to offer. He stiffens our pride so that we are unwilling to bend to God’s will. When we feel broken by the pain that sin causes us, we delude ourselves into thinking that God doesn’t love us. Saint Therese said that Satan’s strategy is to dismantle and demolish our belief that God can love us when He is perfect and we are so imperfect. Does God really love me when I’m struggling? One night, Jesus left His disciples struggling all night against the wind while He prayed on a mountain, but in the morning they saw Him walking toward them across the water. When you are going through difficult times, the Lord is there in the midst of your struggle. He also says to you, “Do not be afraid.” And when we feel ourselves sinking, like Peter did when his faith failed him as he walked across the water towards Jesus, we can call out, “Lord save me.” When everything seems to be going against you, fix your eyes on Him and He will not fail you. There is always a new dawn. Every day is a day to start again. “Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes in the morning” (Psalm 30:5). Night can be symbolic of trial and temptation. Morning is symbolic of Christ who is the Light of the World. Remember on Easter Sunday, Christ left the tomb in a burst of light. He has come to share His light with us. Jesus' name means God saves. He came to save us. He came to share our trials, enter into the depths with us and draw us out. Trust is like a muscle which grows under trying circumstances and pressure. Surrendering my desires to Him and trusting that He will fulfill them is hard. To be able to sincerely say, “I want God’s will above my own,” isn’t easy because we like to do what we want to do. That’s what Our Lady did when she said, “Let it be done to me according to Thy word,” (Luke 1:38). In her gentle way, she stands beside us, helping us to align our deepest desires with all that is good. So, by the grace of God, I go forward with confidence, knowing that I can speak to the Lord as a friend and family member about all my needs. I have come to know God as a loving Father who calls us to come to Him with childlike trust in His loving plan, despite all our flaws, and mistakes, no matter how many times we have failed. “Let us approach the throne of grace” (Hebrews 4:16) and “Do not be frightened or dismayed, for the Lord, your God is with you” (Joshua 1:9) ARTICLE is based on the testimony shared by Daniella Stephans for the Shalom World program “Jesus My Savior”.

The very thing that turned me away from the Church brought me back wholeheartedly! This is my side of the story… Born and raised in Philadelphia, I attended a Catholic school like most of my friends. Our family attended Mass only on Christmas and Easter. I learned about the sacraments in school, but mostly I memorized the correct answers to get them right on a test. I was a good kid. I didn’t struggle with any major sins. My friends teased that I’d probably become a nun because I was such a goodie two-shoes. But I wasn’t connecting well with my faith. And after a bad confession experience in fourth grade, I decided never to return. I turned away from the Church. After high school I worked as a server at the Olive Garden. One of my coworkers was an incredibly handsome guy named Keith. A talented musician and a strong Christian, Keith invited me to his non-denominational church, and I loved it. We attended together often, but soon Keith accepted a position as a youth pastor in his home state of Iowa. We missed each other terribly, so I followed him. We married in 1996, and everything was perfect: Keith loved his job at the church: the congregation took wonderful care of us, we had three beautiful children, and I loved us being a pastor’s family. We served there and at a handful of other churches for two decades. Ministry had its ups and downs, but we loved it. The Tipping Point Then, after 22 years as a pastor, Keith announced one day, “I think God is calling me to quit my job and convert to Catholicism.” I was shocked, even as I learned that he had been privately considering Catholicism for a long time. He had read books about Catholicism and discussed the faith with priests and catholic friends. What he discovered about the Church Fathers, the sacraments, and the papacy had shaken him to his core, but he had kept going. I loved his new excitement, but I wasn’t interested and didn’t think he’d go through with it. There was no way the Keith I knew would convert to the dull and lifeless religion of my upbringing. But the more I noticed Keith light up when he spoke about converting, the more I panicked. The kids were getting older and had grown up in churches they loved; even if we wanted to, we couldn’t make them convert. “God can’t want to divide our home,” I thought… How could I go back to what meant so little to me as a child, especially since my new Protestant faith kept me fulfilled. I’d need to work through things like Confession—something I never wanted to do again. I secretly hoped this was just a phase Keith would soon get over. The tipping point for Keith came after a Catholic apologetics talk where he felt God speaking directly to him. He came home and said, “That’s it, I’m doing this. I’m converting. I don’t know what we will do for money, but I know that God is calling me to this; we will figure it out.” The next day, he told his church he was resigning. Now I had to decide what to do. After months of prayer, I ultimately followed Keith to the Catholic Church. I felt it was best for our kids to see their mom follow their dad’s lead in faith, but they decided to stay at their Protestant churches. It was exciting to see Keith so passionate about his conversion, but I had a more challenging time than I thought I would. I cried at every Mass for about three months. Our family had worshipped together for the past 22 years. Now, we were painfully scattered. In addition, I was upset that Keith wasn’t using his gifts for ministry in the Catholic Church. Since God called him to quit his job, I expected there’d be an incredible ministry waiting for him. I believed God had a plan for Keith, but what was it? Keith was content attending Mass and soaking it all in, but I wanted to see God use him in some new way. A Wonderful Trip After a few months of attending Mass, I became more open to the faith. I started asking questions and learning why we do what we do. I began opening my heart to the Mass and started loving it. The people in our parish were beautiful examples of what being Catholic is all about. I loved the scripture-filled Mass, the incense, holy water, and sacraments. I loved the devotions, and of course, the Eucharist. Had I learned more about the Eucharist as a child, I couldn’t have walked away so easily. During the summer after our conversion, a friend invited us to go to Medjugorje. Keith had gone years before and had a wonderful experience. We were both excited to go, especially when we realized we’d be there on the first anniversary of Keith entering the Catholic Church. What a great way to celebrate. I realized that we had become so busy with life, work, and family that perhaps we hadn’t heard from God about the future because we hadn’t taken the time to stop and listen. “Maybe in Medjugorje God will talk to us about his plan for our life,” I thought. The trip was a powerful experience, but I wasn’t hearing God speaking to me about our future. I started getting impatient and frustrated. Before It’s Too Late On the last day, we went to Mass, Rosary services, Adoration, and everything else they offered. We didn’t want to miss anything. During Adoration, I prayed, “God, please talk to me. I felt God say, “Go to Confession.” “No God, please speak to me directly. It’s our last night. Please tell me what to do.” He said, “Go to Confession.” I argued with God, “Do you know how many people are in line for confession? I’ll never get in!” In Medjugorje, Confession is a big deal. Even with dozens of priests hearing Confessions in many languages, the lines can be long. The outdoor Confessions area was swarming with people every time we walked by. “Sorry God, if you had told me this earlier in the week, I would have gone, but I don’t want to miss out on anything during our last night here,” I prayed. Looking back, I am sure God was rolling His eyes. After Adoration, while waiting for our friends, I looked at the Confession line trying to decide what to do. A friend from our group came over, looked at me, and said one word, “Pizza.” I jumped up and said, “Yes, let’s go.” We had a delightful time, and after I had stuffed myself, it occurred to me that I might have made a big mistake. “Maybe I should have tried to go to Confession,” I thought. “I think God was talking to me, and I disobeyed. Now, what am I going to do? It might be too late.” I was starting to feel guilty. I asked Greg about my chances to get into Confession. “It’s after 9:00,” he said, “finding a priest still there (especially an English-speaking priest) won’t be easy”. I decided to try. We walked a block to the outdoor Confessions area and found it empty and dark. As we turned the corner, we spotted a priest in the distance sitting beside a sign that said “English.” I couldn’t believe it. As I approached, he said, “I’ve been waiting for you.” A Message from God I sat down and started my Confession. “I should tell you,” I said, “I’ve had issues with Confession. All my other Confessions were half-hearted and done out of obligation. I feel like God told me to come here tonight, so I’m going to consider this my first Confession.” Then I spilled my guts. It took a long time. I was crying, and even though I felt that I had confessed my sins to Jesus throughout the years, there was something special about speaking them out loud to a priest. I struggled to get out some of my words, but I did the best I could. When I finished, he said, “Your sins are forgiven.” Then he said, “I can tell you are genuinely sorry for your sins, but that’s not the only reason you are here. You are here because it is your last night in Medjugorje (I didn’t tell him that!), and you have been frustrated with God for a long time. You have wanted Him to speak to you on this trip, and you feel He hasn’t. (I didn’t tell him that either!) “Here is God’s message to you,” said the priest. “Be patient, keep doing what you’re doing and trust in Me.’’ I started crying and then laughing because I was so filled with joy. I hugged him and thanked him for waiting for me. I couldn’t wait to tell Keith what the priest told me. We realized there was a reason we were in Medjugorje on Keith’s anniversary of becoming a Catholic. There was a reason God didn’t have Keith do too much during that first year. We needed to be patient and faithful. And shortly after returning, doors began opening for Keith to share his journey into the Catholic faith. For example, since the Pandemic began, Keith has been live streaming a Rosary every afternoon on YouTube. He’s done it every day for almost two years now, with over 70 countries represented. It’s now referred to as the Rosary Crew. People from all over the world tell Keith that his ministry has helped them. We are extremely grateful. I’ve learned that while we often ask God to speak to us, too often we’ve already decided what we want Him to say. But God loves to surprise us. Isn’t it crazy that Confession, the very thing that turned me away from The Church, is the thing that Jesus used to bring me back wholeheartedly? Are you asking God for advice but unwilling to hear what He says? Do you have issues with the Church which you need to resolve? Do you need to ask someone for forgiveness? Do you need to surrender to Jesus and start living differently? Whatever your issue, try to let go of your expectations and just listen? Don’t wait any longer. God is speaking to you. Listen.

Imagine having to meet secretly in underground catacombs to celebrate the Eucharist. Such was the plight of Christians in the Third century under the persecution of emperor Diocletian. Imprisonment and even death could be the punishment for anyone discovered to be a Christian. One day, as the bishop was about to celebrate Holy Mass in one of the catacombs, he received a letter from Christian prisoners requesting he send them the Eucharist. As soon as the Mass was over, the bishop asked who would be willing to carry out this dangerous task. Young Tarcisius—an altar server—stood up and said, “Send me.” The bishop thought the boy was too young, but Tarcisius convinced the bishop that nobody would suspect him precisely because he was just a boy. All the Christians knew of Tarcisius’—a boy with deep love for Jesus in the Eucharist, and so the bishop accepted the boy's offer. The Blessed Sacrament was carefully wrapped in linen cloth and placed in a small case which Tarcisius hid within his tunic, just over his heart. On the way, he passed a group of his schoolmates who called to him to join their games, but Tarcisius refused saying he was in a hurry. Seeing that he was holding something close to his breast, they became curious and together tried to pull away his hands. As they struggled, one of the boys heard him whisper “Jesus” and cried out to the others: “He is a Christian. He is hiding some Christian mystery there.”The boys struck him and kicked him fiercely to make him loosen his grip. When a man passing by heard that the boy was a Christian, he gave a cruel blow that threw him to the ground. Just then a soldier dispersed the attackers, lifted Tarcisius onto his arms and hurried off to a quiet lane. Tarcisius opened his eyes and recognized the soldier as a Christian whom he had often met in the catacombs. “I am dying,” he said, “but I have kept my God safe from them.” And he handed his precious treasure to the soldier, who placed it reverently inside his tunic. “Carry Him to the prison for me,” said Tarcisius, and with a gentle sigh he fell back into the soldier's arms. His little soul was already with God for whom he so willingly had given his life. Jesus said, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” Young Tarcisius as a boy martyr of the Eucharist gave his life for the Friend of friends, Jesus the Lord.

I was carrying those wounds from the past which affected me deeply. Sudden outbursts of anger and addiction to sinful habits led me down the pit until He set me free… When I went to high school in Chicago, there was a lot of racial tension. I belong to a minority group and during my time in high school, I often faced and dealt with discrimination. During those 4 years, I was harassed verbally, and I struggled emotionally because of the teasing and ridicule. I was the type of person who would not retaliate when I faced ridicule, but I took all the negative feelings from this verbal and physical harassment and buried it deep in my heart. However, keeping all of that negativity inside affected me deeply. My interactions with my parents, brothers, and other relatives suffered. Sometimes I would have sudden outbursts of anger and lash out to hurt them with spiteful, cruel words. I was addicted to many sinful habits. Although I knew that these were evil and desired to be released from them, I struggled in vain to free myself. I continued to fall into the same sinful habits and couldn’t control my temper. At one family gathering, I felt so angry that I got into a fight with my youngest brother. I became afraid of myself, realizing that I needed to do something about this hate and anger lying deep within me. What Captivated Me? By the Grace of God, during my freshman year in high school, I attended a youth Retreat. During this Retreat, I saw young people who were so excited about God that their deep love for Him shone joyfully on their faces. For the first time in my life, I met young people who felt unintimidated in talking about God or sharing their faith experiences. And it really captivated me. I had grown up in a good Catholic family and thought that I knew all about God, but it remained at the intellectual level and never transferred to my heart. However at this Retreat, I saw young people who really loved living their faith and were so happy. Despite the fact that my friends and I would sometimes burst out laughing because we found what they were doing comical, the young people who were ministering to us were not deterred in any way. They were so excited to be there and so passionate about their faith that I really longed to have what they had, to be full of joy, to be happy and to love life. So, I prayed, “Lord I want to be like that, I want that. After that Retreat, I had the opportunity to attend multiple Retreats. I would go at least 1 or 2 times a year and also began to be active in youth ministry. I got an opportunity to be part of the youth service team for the Catholic Charismatic Renewal in Chicago and I worked in youth ministry with other adults. It was a wonderful time for me. Resisting Him I began to grow in my faith and, at the same time, share my faith with others. But even as I continued in ministry, I still struggled sometimes with sinful habits and outbursts of anger. This really depressed me because I was trying to share the good news of Christ with others, but my own sins were holding me back and I still couldn’t forgive the people who had hurt me. I desperately wanted freedom from this slavery of sin. As I cried out to God in desperation, I felt the Lord telling me “Jenson, I want to heal you. I want to set you free from this negativity lying deep within your heart, but to do that, I need to walk with you into each and every one of those painful situations and touch those painful memories with My hand that is bathed in My blood that was shed for you at Calvary.” I was afraid and responded timorously, “Lord, I do not want to revisit those negative experiences. It is too painful for me.” So I kept resisting the Lord even though he was ready to set me free. All through high school—I continued to experience painful situations, the Lord kept telling me He wants to set me free, He wanted to heal me, but I kept resisting Him. I continued to work in youth ministry but I was becoming more discouraged because I was not able to find lasting happiness. Revisiting the Pains After high school, I went to a Catholic university in Chicago. It was a wonderful environment because, for the first time in my life, I did not face any discrimination. People accepted me for who I was. I began to desire very strongly that when I received the joy of the Lord it would last into the next day or week. To my disappointment, I kept falling back into habitual sin and outbursts of anger. I called out to the Lord, saying, “Something has to change. I want to be free; I want to be rid of my past because it is holding me captive.” And the Lord kept telling me, “I want to do that for you, but you have to give Me permission to do that one thing—to set me free.” But I replied, “No way!” I don’t want to ever revisit those years of high school which were so painful. One day, at the end of a Retreat, one of the adults working with me in youth ministry (who knew all about my struggles and my past) came to me saying, “Jenson, I want you to do something for me. I want you to put both your hands on my shoulders. I want you to look at me in the eyes and I want you to see one of those people who hurt you in high school. I want you to tell this person what he or she did to you, and then I want you to say, ‘I forgive you.” And for the first time in my life, I did not resist. I did not have the power to resist. I said, “I am ready now. I want to go through with it.” And so one by one I began to do this. Looking at my friend, I did not see her face. In my imagination, I delved into my memory to find and picture each of the people who had hurt me in high school. I told each of them what he or she had done to me, and then I said, “I forgive you.” As I began to do this, I began to cry uncontrollably. Each time I spoke the words of forgiveness, “I forgive you for what you did to me”, I felt something heavy lifted out of me. River of Love It was a long night of prayer, but it was the most powerful healing experience of my life. As the weight of this pain was lifted from me by each act of forgiveness, I felt more and more light-hearted. One of my friends, who resembled Jesus with his long hair, came up close to me as the prayer ended. I felt so light that I just floated into his hands. As he held me there, I felt as if Jesus was holding me close to His Heart, embracing me. My heart felt empty of the burden it had been carrying. Into that emptiness, I suddenly felt the love of God flowing like a river into my heart, filling me with peace, love and joy. I just enjoyed the moment, relishing the peace I had been craving for so long. I felt sure that I was finally completely free of the burden of sin, guilt and shame that had been crushing me. The Lord had completely uprooted all that negative stuff and taken it away from me. He set me free. Why did this happen? Because I had reached a point of desperation where I cried out to the Lord for help to escape a lifestyle of sin, and then submitted to His remedy. The Lord had said, “I want to set you free. I am the wounded Healer. I love you, I laid down my life for you.” He wanted to walk with me into each of my painful experiences, share in my pain and I bring His healing touch to my wounds. When I finally allowed Him to do that, Jesus did not let me walk by myself. He walked beside me, taking me back to each and every painful situation, helping me to describe what happened to the person who hurt me and truly forgive them. He gave me the grace to do that, and permanently shed the heavy burden I had been carrying. He Waits For You God wants to heal us permanently and make us whole. He does not do partial work on us. If we trust in Him, He will finish the work that He began and heal us completely. Because He is the wounded healer, He loves us so much that He shares our pain. The Lord does not abandon us even for a second; He stays with us through all our painful moments and walks beside us. After I allowed the Lord to lift my burden, and to set me free, I could continue my life free of the sinful habits that had enslaved me. Every day, I felt the joy of the Lord in my heart and nobody or nothing could take that joy away from me. Even when I committed sin and fell away from God, I was able to come back immediately through the sacrament of Confession. Receiving the graces of the sacrament strengthened my commitment to go to confession frequently. The Lord was with me and I would not allow myself to slip away from Him again. I invite each one of you who has experienced hurt through your own sins, or the sins of others, to open your heart to Jesus. He is the wounded healer. He can make you whole again. He can restore you through His healing power. He can set you free. All you have to do is say ‘Yes’ to Him. If you trust Him and give Him permission to heal you, you will receive lasting grace and joy. If there is anybody in your life that you need to forgive, I encourage you to say the words of forgiveness; because the act of forgiveness will allow the healing grace of God to complete you and bring fulfillment in your life.

Until then going to church was just to keep my parents happy. I didn’t expect that there was someone there who loved me, even when I didn’t care I was born into a Catholic family in India, so, for me, growing up Catholic was more because of tradition than faith. Going to Sunday Mass and receiving Holy Communion had become routine, and I never really had a relationship with Jesus. I didn't take my faith seriously. It was more about keeping my parents happy, so for their sake I went to church. When I moved to England at the impressionable age of 13, my life went through a complete upheaval. In the midst of this culture shock, I was bullied at school. That was so traumatizing that I felt like trash. I couldn’t understand what was happening, and I felt so depressed that I began to think, “Why am I alive?” I threw myself into my study, and my grades improved so that I was able to study pharmacy at Birmingham University. I was surprised when I met a group of young people who accepted me the way I was for the first time in my life. Although that felt great, it was also very strange because they would gather to pray and I wasn’t used to that. When they were praising God, I thought that was odd because I didn't have a relationship with Christ.  They belonged to an international Catholic charismatic movement for youth called Jesus Youth. Although I couldn’t understand them, I kept going because I felt so accepted and decided to go with them to a conference called “Dare to Go”. During an inner healing session, all the memories of what had happened to me in the past came flooding in. I couldn't stop crying, but then I felt the love of a Father embracing me and understood that Jesus had been carrying me all that time. I finally realized that somebody loved me for who I was, and didn’t judge me. He had always been there, even when I did not know Him, even when I did not love Him back. So, I started to spend more time with them and other like-minded people. I asked God how I could serve Him and He put the right people in my path. I discovered that He had given me a musical gift--to sing and glorify Him through music and share His love with others through music. The more I sing for him, the more I praise and glorify God through my voice, the more I am attracted and drawn towards Christ. What keeps me going and what keeps me attached to Christ is His unconditional love.  However, I wasn’t a paragon of perfection. Like many young people I decided to try out the things that everyone else seemed to enjoy. Alcohol helped me fit in with that crowd, but even when I sidetracked, God stayed with me to redirect my steps. He put certain people in my life to gently nudge me back to Him. He's a very gentle God. He never pushed me, or dragged me. He waited patiently and gave me countless opportunities, again and again, to come back to Him, so I could experience His love. The more I got to know Christ, the more I recognized how weak I was. Every day He revealed something about myself that I had never realized. My flaws and struggles became an opportunity to grow closer to Him, whereas I felt that if I shared my weaknesses with somebody else, they would probably reject me, and judge me. But I can keep going to Him again and again in Adoration or Mass, give my weakness to Him and ask Him to take it from me. He willingly accepts the burden. He polishes me day by day like a treasured jewel. I can't stop myself from being drawn towards His love. Our relationship has become so close that I cannot reject Him even if I wanted to, and if I do reject Him by falling again into sin, the love of God raises me up again. Every time I fall He says, “It’s okay” and that is what keeps me connected to Him, that's what keeps me attached. When I go to Mass, I have a tangible experience of meeting Christ in the Eucharist. Every time I receive Him, it moves me to tears because I'm receiving the holiest of holies into my frail, sinful body and that strengthens me day by day. When I began journeying with Christ and experiencing Him in a personal way, I started realizing that it doesn't matter what is happening around me—how much money I have or how many friends I have. Before I used to seek for people's approval and the moment they rejected me my happiness was gone. But with Christ, it doesn't matter if people give you approval or not. He says, “I have chosen you” and when I hear those words, I feel like I have achieved everything. It brings me a lot of happiness, joy and peace to me. I encourage you to give Jesus an opportunity to make a difference in your life. He stands knocking at the door, but He will never force it open, you are invited to open it to Him. You will never regret it if you do. You would be opening the door to a multitude of good things. The blessings He will shower upon you and the things you can achieve with His help are never-ending. Nothing is impossible for Him. He has given me the courage to say yes to things I could never have imagined. Christ gave me the strength to take a year out of my usual activities to do mission work with Jesus Youth. I distinctly heard Him say, “Shelina I want you to take this one year. I will show you how much more you can achieve through Me”. I was always so anxious about traveling, meeting new people, or spending time with people that I didn't know. With Him by my side, I could step out of my comfort zone to do those very things, and enjoy it. That incessant, self-conscious fear that people would judge me has disappeared because my life now has a purpose--to share Christ with others. There is no greater gift I could give to anyone and He deserves our love. If He left the 99 and came after me, I'm sure that He's already seeking you, calling you back home. ARTICLE is based on the testimony shared by Shelina Guedes for the Shalom World program “U-Turn”. To watch the episodes visit: shalomworld.org/show/u-turn

Did you ever encounter an unanswerable question which made you realize that Science doesn't have all the answers? I became a Catholic because Chemistry led me to Christ. I had abandoned my childhood faith to study Science because I thought they were incompatible. I loved Chemistry because it’s all about the fundamental structure underlying our macroscopic experience. It’s about the search for Truth. I thought Science had all the answers until I had a tremendous experience of God. This happened while I was working as a research scientist studying artificial photosynthesis. I was trying to develop a new alternative energy source to fossil fuels. I delighted in my work as I’d always wanted to make this world a better place by doing something good. However, simulating photosynthesis on nano composite materials in a state-of-the-art chemistry lab is in itself an absurd undertaking. One day, when my research wasn't going so well. I gazed idly through my window on the third floor into the canopy of a beautiful, tall, ancient tree—a Ginkgo biloba.  As I regarded its beauty, I suddenly felt as if a veil had fallen away. My mind became flooded with interconnected facts—how plants use the sun, water and the carbon dioxide we breathe out to make all the biomass on earth. This incredibly complex, fine-tuned, well-orchestrated nano factory uses all these little molecules and blobs of proteins—just so far apart in the right position providing just the right fluid in this place, the perfect matrix in that place. It fits everything together in a series of precise chemical reactions more swiftly than you could even write them down.  In that moment, it all became so clear that there really is a great Chemist out there who made the entire universe. It was funny that I was here in the lab trying to save the planet while out there was the whole universe. I had not even been willing to face the fact that everything I was trying to do as a scientist was mimicking and simulating nature. In that moment I developed a deep conviction that Science is the study of God’s handiwork because Science is the study of Nature, and Nature is God’s creation. Once I got that straight in my head, nothing in Science ever made me question my faith. This moment of realization had a great impact on the way I thought. We are not God. We don’t even understand what's going on. He understands and knows all that He's holding in existence. We don't even know how many electrons are on the tip of our noses, but God does! ARTICLE is an excerpt from the Shalom World program “Jesus My Savior” where Dr. Stacy A Trasancos shares all about her experience. To watch the episode visit: shalomworld.org/episode/jesus-my-savior

Dr. Roy Schoeman, tells us how atheism dragged him into a pit of hopelessness and how he got out of it I was born and raised Jewish. I went to Massachusetts Institute of Technology where I lost my belief in God, and essentially became an atheist. I went on to Harvard Business School, and after getting my degree was invited back to join the faculty. So at the age of 29, I found myself as a professor of marketing at Harvard Business School. Although it may sound surprising, that's when the bottom fell out of my world. Ever since I was a small child, I knew life must have a real meaning, which I thought would come from entering into a personal relationship with God. I expected this would happen at my Bar Mitzvah (sort of like Catholic confirmation) at the age of 13. When it didn't, it turned out to be one of the saddest days of my life. Then I thought real meaning would come from success in worldly life, but as a professor at Harvard, I was already more successful in a worldly career than I had ever hoped, yet still there was no meaning or purpose in my life. Therefore at that point, I fell into the darkest despair of my life. Mystical Way  Early one morning, I was walking in a Nature Preserve by the ocean, among the pine trees and sand dunes. I was just ambling along, lost in my thoughts. I had long since lost hope in believing that God existed. But all of a sudden, the curtain between Earth and Heaven disappeared, and I found myself in the presence of God, looking back over my life as if I had died. I saw that everything that had ever happened to me had been the most perfect thing that could have been arranged coming from the hands of an all-knowing, all-loving God, not only including those things that had caused the most suffering, but especially those things. I saw that I would have two great regrets after I died. Firstly, all the time and energy I had wasted worrying about not being loved when I had been held in an ocean of love, greater than anything I could imagine, at every moment of my existence, coming from this all-knowing, all-loving God. And secondly, every hour I had wasted doing nothing of value in the eyes of Heaven, since each moment contains the possibility of doing something valuable in God's eyes. Every time we take advantage of that opportunity we will very truly be rewarded for it for all eternity, and every opportunity we let slip and don't take advantage of, will be a lost opportunity for all eternity.  But the most overwhelming aspect of this experience was to come into the intimate, deep and certain knowledge that God Himself— the God who not only created everything that exists, but created existence itself—not only knew me by name and cared about me, He had been watching over me, every moment of my existence, arranging everything that ever happened to me in the most perfect way. He had actually known, and cared about how I felt every moment. In a very real way everything which made me happy made Him happy, and everything that made me sad made Him sad.  I realized that the meaning and purpose of my life was to worship and serve my Lord, God and Master who was revealing Himself to me, but I didn't know His name or what religion this was. I couldn't think of this as the God of the Old Testament, or this religion as Judaism. The picture of God that emerges from the Old Testament is of a God far more distant, severe and judgmental than this God was. I knew He was my Lord and God and my master, and I wanted nothing else but to worship and serve Him properly, but I didn't know who He was or what religion to follow.  So I prayed, “Let me know your name so I know what religion to follow. I don't mind if you are Buddha and I have to become a Buddhist; I don't mind if you’re Krishna and I have to become a Hindu; I don't mind if you’re Apollo and I have to become a Roman pagan. As long as you're not Christ and I have to become Christian!” Well, He respected that prayer and did not reveal His name to me. But I returned home happier than I had ever been in my life. All I wanted was to know the name of my Lord, God and master who had revealed Himself to me, and what religion to follow. So every night before I went to sleep I would say a short prayer that I had made up to know the name of my Lord, my God and master who had revealed Himself to me in that experience. Beauty beyond Words A year to the day after that first experience, I went to sleep after having said that prayer, as well as a prayer of thanksgiving for what had happened exactly a year earlier. I thought I was awoken by a hand touching my shoulder gently, and was led to a room and left alone with the most beautiful young woman I could ever imagine. I knew without being told that it was the Blessed Virgin Mary. When I found myself in Her presence all I wanted to do was fall on my knees and somehow honor Her appropriately.  In fact the first thought that crossed my mind was: “Oh my Goodness I wish I at least knew the Hail Mary!’ but I didn't. Her first words were an offer to answer any questions I might have for Her. Well, my first thought was to ask her to teach me the Hail Mary, so I could honor her appropriately, but I was too proud to admit that I didn't know it. So as an indirect way of getting her to teach me the Hail Mary, I asked her what her favorite prayer to her was. Her first response was, “I love all prayers to me.” But I was a bit pushy, and said, “But you must love some prayers more than others.” She relented and recited a prayer in Portuguese. I didn't know any Portuguese, so all I could do was try to remember the first few syllables phonetically and write them down as soon as I woke up the next morning. Later when I met a Portuguese Catholic woman, I asked her to recite the Marian prayers in Portuguese for me, and I identified the prayer as 'O Mary conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to Thee'.  As perfectly beautiful as Mary was to look at, even more profoundly affecting was the beauty of her voice. The only way I can describe it is to say it was composed out of that which makes Music, Music. When she spoke the beauty of her voice flowed through me, carrying her love with it, and lifted me up into a state of ecstasy greater than I ever imagined could exist.  Most of my questions simply flowed out of my being overwhelmed by who She was. At one point, I stammered out, “How can it be that you're so glorious, that you're so magnificent, that you're so exalted?” Her response was just to look down at me almost with pity and shake her head gently and saying 'Oh no, you don't understand. I'm nothing. I'm a creature. I'm a created thing. He's everything'.  Then again out of a desire to somehow honor her appropriately, I asked what title she liked best for herself. Her response was, “I am the beloved daughter of the Father, Mother of the Son and Spouse of the Spirit.” I asked her several other questions of somewhat less significance, after which she spoke to me for another 10 or 15 minutes. After that, the audience was ended and I went back to sleep. The next morning when I woke up I was hopelessly in love with the Blessed Virgin Mary, and I knew I wanted nothing other than to be as fully and completely Christian as possible. From that experience I realized, of course, that the God who revealed Himself to me a year earlier had been Christ. In Search of  There was a shrine to Our Lady of La Salette about 45 minutes from where I lived. I began to go there three or four times a week, just to walk in the grounds, to feel the presence of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and to commune with her. The shrine was owned by the Catholic Church and so, sometimes, there would be a Holy Mass taking place. Whenever I was in the presence of a Mass, I was filled with a tremendous desire to receive the Eucharist, even though I did not know what it was. Those two things led me without too much of a detour into the Catholic Church—knowing who the Blessed Virgin Mary is, and wanting to receive Communion, daily if possible.  On entering the Catholic Church, I not only did not stop being Jewish but, as I see it, became more Jewish than ever, since in doing so I became a Jewish follower of the Jewish Messiah, rather than a Jew who had not recognized the Jewish Messiah and remained in “pre- Messianic” Judaism. As I see it, the Catholic Church is post-Messianic Judaism and Judaism is pre-Messianic Catholicism: two phases in one and the same plan for salvation for all mankind. I am infinitely grateful that I received these experiences. I was brought into the fullness of the truth, into a personal relationship with God beyond anything I ever imagined could exist, into knowing the answers to all the questions about Man, about God, about the meaning of life, about what happens after you die, and so forth that tormented me growing up. Most importantly, I gained a well-founded hope of an eternity of unimaginable bliss and love in the presence of God. ARTICLE is based on the inspiring testimony shared by Dr. Roy Schoeman for the Shalom World program “Jesus, My Saviour ”. To watch the episode visit: shalomworld.org/show/jesus-my-savior

Tap, tap. “Who is there?” I asked. “I Am Love,” came the reply. “Come in. Do come in,” I begged in earnest. For it had been a long time since anyone had come to call and I was intrigued that someone so esteemed should come to me. Rattle, rattle went the doorknob as it twisted back and forth. “You have locked your door,” came the Voice from outside. “I shall unlock it at once,” I replied. But I could not. I discovered that the pathway to my entrance was barricaded. In fact, my room was so filled up with things that I could not even begin to clear a passage to reach the threshold. “Please, come back tomorrow,” I instructed. “Tomorrow I'll have an unlocked door.” So, Love retreated. And I set about the task of clearing a path for His return. Engaging all of my strength, I shoved this and that aside. The enterprise was taxing, but my resolve was strengthened by the prospect that Love would come again. Then having succeeded in pushing my most cumbersome belongings to the sidelines, I turned my attention to the nests of long-forgotten treasures that were now laid bare. I cast out the obvious rubbish and stacked the seemingly useful things. I made a channel through which to pass and, reaching the doorway, I unlatched the chains. Rap, rap. “Who is there?” I asked in excitement as bright rays of sunlight poured through the cracks in my door. “I Am Love,” He responded. “Come in. Do come in,” I instructed, while unchaining the latch and pulling open the heavy door. “Sit down. Do sit down,” I petitioned, pointing to the two seats, side-by-side. Love entered in and reclined. I sat beside Him for a minute, but then I leapt up and set about the job of entertaining. “Look here,” I said, motioning to the pretty adornments on my walls. “See these,” I instructed, arraying all my earthly treasures before Him. I babbled on and on for a long while. I told Love all about my accomplishments. I shared with Him my dreams. I revealed to Him my blueprints. He sat for hours in silent stillness while I flitted about the room. Before I knew it, the day had slipped by and Love stood to go. “Do come back again tomorrow,” I invited. “Tomorrow I will have more to offer.” Love stepped out of the door and down the lane. “I should sleep,” I thought to myself, but I was too excited to lay my head on a pillow. Instead, I exhausted myself redecorating. I dragged a round table into the center of the room and nestled our chairs around it. I laid a starched, white cloth upon the table and displayed an antique vase on top. Then, I dug into the depths of my closet and retrieved my best frock. I worked through the night preparing my cell and myself. Having exposed all of my tales, plans and achievements during Love's last visit, I looked for novel sources of entertainment. I fished an old vinyl record from its dusty sleeve and set it on the long-unused player. Once satisfied with all my new arrangements, tomorrow couldn't come fast enough. Tap, tap. “Who is there?” I called, rushing about the room touching up the last details as morning broke anew. “I Am Love,” came the reply. “Come in. Do come in,” I insisted flinging the door wide open. “Come and sit at my table.” Love entered and took His place. “Listen to this,” I cooed, setting the needle on the vinyl grooves. The space filled with noise as the record spun and a new energy swirled. For the next hours I swayed and whirled about in my fashionable attire. I danced before Love with seemingly endless enthusiasm. I sang the parts of the songs that I knew and hummed the tune when the lyrics eluded my memory. My heart was invigorated in my role as entertainer and I let go of my inhibitions, fancying myself an impressive hostess. And again the day was too quickly spent, such that as Love stood to go, I realized that He'd had no chance for Himself. I'd filled two days with my voice: speaking and singing. And I'd failed to hear Love's response. “Oh, please, do come again tomorrow,” I pleaded. “Come tomorrow and tell me all about Yourself: Your delights, Your stories, Your plans. Tomorrow I'll be prepared to listen.” In silence, Love exited. Rap, rap. “Who is there?” I queried, as the warm glowing light of daybreak seeped through the entryway's crevices. “I Am Love,” came the now familiar answer in the dawn. “Come in. Do come in,” I said, “today I wish to hear Your voice.” In truth, having worn myself out in the previous days, I was only too glad to be able to sit and allow Love to work. Love came in and reclined in His chair at my table, but no sound crossed His lips. He remained in silent stillness. I sat in silence, too, though I was not altogether comfortable with it. Several times I considered drawing upon my last reserves of energy, attempting to woo Him with some new tricks or trinkets. But then I remembered my promise and I continued to wait on His voice. Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes turned into hours. The clock seemed to have stopped, or at least to have hesitated now and then, which led me to check it often. And in searching to hear Love's voice my ears attuned to all manner of other sounds: crowing...chirping...ticking... creaking...shifting...breathing... The silence was, at times, deafening. Wearied from my works and lulled by my anxious listening, I drifted in and out of sleep in the seat beside my Guest. Then, Love finally stood to leave. However, after this long day I wasn't quite sure what to expect of tomorrow. Love's silence had confused my understanding of the roles of friendship. I was losing confidence in my ability to be a good hostess. “Perhaps, He ought to find a more suitable companion,” I considered in my mind. My heart in desolation, it seemed easier to allow Love to leave on this day. So, rather than bid Him return to me, I simply said, “Goodbye.” Love left. I latched the door behind Him. Thoroughly spent, I kicked my shoes under the table, dropped my dress into a heap on the floor and made ready for bed. Then, I crawled beneath the patchwork quilt on my bed and heaved a sigh. I might have devoted some time to deciphering all that had come to pass between Love and me, but I hadn't the inclination at that moment. I was weary and dejected. Sleep beckoned and I readily submitted. At 3:33am, a gentle sound stirred on the other side of my latched door. Though it was barely more than a whisper, it called me from the depths of my slumber. Eyes wide open, I lay paralyzed for a minute while my mind worked to arouse; seeking to make sense of the hour and the circumstance. “Who is there? I yelled, half fearing the reply. “I Am Love,” was the answer. “Love?” I asked. For though Love had been the only guest Who'd come to call on me, I was surprised by His arrival at such an hour. “I am not prepared to entertain you just now,” I said. “Come again tomorrow when I have had time to plan for your arrival.” Love spoke not another word, but instead stood waiting. For half a minute I remained buried under the patchwork quilt, wrestling between exhaustion and curiosity. The latter won the battle so I rose from my bed and fumbled in the darkness until I reached the latch. Standing inside, in the blackness, I paused. For it occurred to me that this time Love's entrance would be different. I couldn't understand how I knew this, but it was clear in my mind that I would never be the same if I invited Love in on His own terms. So, I drew in a long breath, unlocked the chains and pulled the door in with great care. Love entered. As His foot crossed the threshold, my cell was awash in soft Light, though He carried no lantern. The Light exposed even the remotest of corners in my room, leaving nothing unseen. Ashamed, I began to offer my apologies for my ragged appearance and ill-kept room, but He tenderly put his arm about my shoulder and absolved me of my anxieties. Then, He silently led me to my chair and I sat. Love made no speech, yet His Words filled my ears and instructed my intellect. Unlike the previous day, the outward silence now freed me from all distractions, allowing me to rest wholly in His Presence. Unattached to my plans and devoid of power, I discovered the security and serenity of being vulnerable to Love. He made no pretense nor accepted any. Love simply wrapped me in His embrace and all that had been before fell away. Love's hands had appeared empty when He entered, but from unseen resources He produced Bread and Wine upon the table. These He blessed and said, “Take and eat.” Unaccustomed to dining at such an hour, I was strangely drawn to the meal. Deep inside, I experienced a hunger like never before. This desire penetrated deep within. So, I ate and I drank. Together, the sweet Bread and velvety Wine satiated the hunger, and yet they left me with a new thirst, a thirst for which no earthly remedy could suffice. I never wanted Love to depart from me again, so I made the decision to keep my door open and the pathway free. Like Solomon I implored, “Set me as a seal upon Your heart.” Love smiled, for He already had.

A young couple introduced their eight-year-old (special needs) son, Gabriel, to the parish priest with a request to accept him as an altar server. The priest asked the boy, “Do you want to be an altar server?” Instead of responding verbally, the boy hugged the priest around the waist, as high as he could reach. The following Sunday, Gabriel arrived punctually, 15 minutes before Mass as the priest had arranged. Since there was no sacristan, the priest had to run back and forth making preparations. It was not until Mass was about to begin that he realized Gabriel knew nothing about how to serve Mass. So, the priest said, “Gabriel, do whatever I do, OK?” Gabriel was an obedient boy, and very literal. When Mass began and the priest kissed the altar, the boy kissed it too. During the homily, all were smiling and paying no attention to the priest because they were captivated by the cute altar server who was doing his best to imitate the priest’s every gesture. After Mass, the priest called little Gabriel to his side and explained what he should and should not do during Mass. He clarified that kissing the altar was a gesture reserved to the priest; “The altar represents Christ, and the priest, while performing the sacrament, is joined in a special way to Him.” Although Gabriel was obedient, he was also frank, so he didn’t hesitate to say, “But I want to kiss it, too.” Further explanations didn’t diminish the boy’s desire to kiss the altar, so the priest came up with a clever solution telling the boy that he would kiss the altar “for both of them”. The boy seemed to accept this solution, at least for the moment. As he began Mass the following Sunday, the priest kissed the altar and watched to see what Gabriel would do. The boy did not kiss the altar; instead, he pressed his cheek against the altar and stayed there with a big smile on his face until the priest asked him to stop. After Mass, the pastor reviewed the instructions with the boy, reminding him he was not to kiss the altar and that the priest was doing it “for both of them”. But the boy quickly disagreed, saying, “I didn’t kiss it; it kissed me!” Taken aback, the priest said, “Gabriel, don’t play games with me.” But the boy didn’t back down. “It’s true!” he said. “He filled me with kisses!” This incident, shared by Father José Rodrigo López Cepeda on social media, relates an incident from his early years at the parish of the Shrine of St. Orosia in Spain. Little Gabriel teaches us the importance of letting ourselves be loved by Jesus first, and of always remaining close, in good times and in bad. Have you been kissed by Him today?