Incredibly Crazy for…

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.

From being a healthy Uni-student to a paraplegic, I refused to be confined to a wheelchair… In the initial years of University, I slipped a disc. Doctors assured me that being young and active, physiotherapy, and exercises could make me better, but despite all effort, I was in pain every day. I had acute episodes every few months, which kept me in bed for weeks and led to repeated hospital visits. Nevertheless, I held on to hope, until I slipped a second disc. That's when I realized my life had changed. Angry at God! I was born in Poland. My mom teaches theology, so I was brought up in the Catholic faith. Even when I moved to Scotland for University and then to England, I held onto it dearly, maybe not in a do-or-die manner, but it was always there. The initial phase of moving to a new country wasn’t easy. My home had been a furnace, with my parents fighting among themselves most of the time, so I had practically run away to this alien land. Leaving my difficult childhood behind, I wanted to enjoy my youth. Now, this pain was making it difficult for me to hold down jobs and keep myself financially balanced. I was angry at God. Yet, He wasn’t willing to let me go. Trapped at home in acute pain, I resorted to the only available pastime—my mother’s collection of religious books. Slowly, the retreats I attended and the books I read led me to realize that despite my distrust, God really wanted my relationship with Him to be strengthened. But I was also not totally over the anger that He wasn’t healing me yet. Eventually, I came to believe God was angry at me and didn’t want to heal me so I thought maybe I could trick him. I started looking for a holy priest with good ‘statistics’ for healing so that I could get healed when God was busy doing other things. Needless to say, that never happened. A Twist in My Journey One similar day in a prayer group, I was in so much pain. Fearing an acute episode, I was planning to leave when one of the members there asked if there was something I would like them to pray for. I was having some trouble at work, so I said yes. As they were praying, one of the men asked if there was some physical illness that I needed praying over. They were way down on my ‘healing rating’ list, so I didn’t trust that I would receive any relief, but I said ‘Yes’ anyway. They prayed and my pain was gone. I returned home, and it was still gone. I started jumping and twisting and moving around, and I was still okay. But nobody believed me when I told them I was healed. So, I stopped telling people; instead, I went to Medjugorje to thank Our Lady. There, I had an encounter with a man who was doing Reiki and wanted to pray over me. I refused, but before leaving he gave me a goodbye hug which left me worried because I recalled his words that his touch has power. I allowed fear to take over and falsely believed this evil’s touch was stronger than God. I woke up the next morning in excruciating pain, unable to walk. After four months of relief, my pain returned so acutely that I thought I wouldn’t even be able to make it back to the UK. When I returned, I found that my discs were touching the nerves, causing even more drastic pain for months. After six or seven months, the doctors decided that they needed to do the risky procedure on my spine that they had been keeping off for a long time. The surgery damaged a nerve in my leg, and my left leg was paralyzed knee-down. A new journey began there and then, a different one. I Know You Can Do it The very first time I arrived home in a wheelchair, my parents were terrified, but I was filled with joy. I loved all the technological stuff…every single time someone pressed a button on my wheelchair, I was excited like a kid. It was over the Christmas period, when my paralysis started regressing that I realized the extent of damage to my nerves. I was admitted to a hospital in Poland for a while. I didn't know how I was going to live. I was just praying to God that I needed another healing: “I need to find you again because I know you can do it.” So, I found a healing service and was convinced that I would be healed. A Moment You Don’t Wanna Miss It was Saturday and my father had initially not wanted to go. I just told him: “You don't want to miss out when your daughter is healed.” The original schedule had a Mass, followed by the healing service with Adoration. But when we arrived, the priest said they had to change the plan as the team that was meant to lead the healing service was not there. I remember thinking I don’t need any team: “I only need Jesus.” When the Mass started, I did not hear a single word. We were sitting on the side where there was a Divine Mercy picture. I looked at Jesus like I had never seen Him before. It was a stunning image. He looked so beautiful! I never saw that picture anywhere after that. All through Mass, the Holy Spirit was enveloping my soul. I was simply saying in my head ‘Thank you’ even though I didn’t know what I was thankful for. I wasn’t able to ask for healing, and it was frustrating because I needed healing. When adoration started I asked my mom to take me to the front, as close to Jesus as possible. There, seated up front, I felt someone touching, and massaging my back. I was getting so warm and cozy that I felt like I would fall asleep. So, I decided to walk back to the bench, forgetting that I could not ‘walk.’ I just walked back and my mom ran after me with my crutches, praising God, saying: “You are walking, you are walking.” I was healed, by Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. As soon as I sat down, I heard a voice saying: “Your faith has healed you.” In my mind, I saw the image of the woman touching the cloak of Jesus when He was passing. Her story reminds me of mine. Nothing was helping until I reached this point where I started trusting Jesus. The healing came when I accepted Him and told Him: “You are all I need.” My left leg had lost all its muscles and even that grew back overnight. It was very significant because the doctors were measuring it before, and they found an astounding, unexplainable change. Shouting it Out This time around when I received the healing, I wanted to share it with everyone. I wasn't embarrassed anymore. I wanted everyone to know how amazing God is and how much He loves all of us. I'm no one special and I haven't done anything special to receive this healing. Being healed also doesn't mean that my life became super-comfortable overnight. There are still difficulties, but they are much lighter. I take them to the Eucharistic Adoration and He gives me solutions, or ideas on how I can deal with them, as well as the assurance and trust that He will deal with them.

When 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.

Loneliness is the new normal worldwide, but not for this family! Read on for this incredible tip on staying connected always. I recently became an empty nester. All five of my children live hours apart from one another, which makes family gatherings few and far between. This is one of the bittersweet consequences of successfully launching your children; they can fly pretty far sometimes. Last Christmas, our whole family had the happy occasion of visiting with each other. At the end of those three joyful days, when it was time for goodbyes, I overheard one sibling say to another: “I’ll see you in the Eucharist.” This is the way. This is how we stay close to one another. We cling to the Eucharist. And Jesus binds us together. We certainly miss one another and wish we had more time together. But God has called us to work in different pastures and to be content with the time we’ve been given. So, in between visits and phone calls, we go to Mass and continue to stay connected. Feeling Alone? Attending the Most Holy Sacrifice of the Mass allows us to enter into a reality that’s not bound by space and time. It’s the stepping out of this world and into a sacred space where Heaven touches Earth in a real way, and we are united with the entire family of God, those worshiping both here on Earth and in Heaven. By partaking in Holy Communion, we find that we indeed are not alone. One of Jesus’ last words to His disciples was: “I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:20) The Eucharist is the immense gift of His continual Presence with us. Naturally, we miss loved ones who are no longer with us; sometimes, the ache can be quite fierce. It is in those moments that we must cling to the Eucharist. On particularly lonesome days, I make an extra effort to get to Mass a little early and linger a little longer afterward. I intercede for each of my loved ones and receive comfort knowing I am not alone and that I am close to Jesus’ Heart. I pray that each of my loved one’s hearts are also close to Jesus’ Heart, so we can also be together. Jesus promised: “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to Myself.” (John 12:32) Incredibly Close One of my favorite lines during the Eucharistic Prayer is this: “Humbly we pray that partaking of the body and blood of Christ, we may be gathered into one by the Holy Spirit.” God gathers what once was scattered and draws us into the one body of Christ. The Holy Spirit at Mass has been tasked in a particular way with uniting us. We absolutely need God’s help to be in true communion with others. Have you ever been in the same room with someone, but yet it felt like you were a million miles away? The opposite of that can also be true. Even if we are miles apart, we can feel incredibly close to others. Ultimate Reality Last year, I felt particularly close to my grandmother at her funeral Mass. It was very comforting, for I felt like she was right there with us, especially during the Eucharistic prayer and Holy Communion. My grandmother had a strong devotion to the Eucharist and strove to attend daily Mass for as long as she physically could. I was so grateful for that time of intimacy with her and will always treasure that. This reminds me of another portion of the Eucharistic prayer: “Remember also our brothers and sisters who have fallen asleep in the hope of the resurrection and all who have died in Your mercy: welcome them into the light of Your face. Have mercy on us all, we pray, that with the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God, with Blessed Joseph, Her Spouse, with the Blessed Apostles, and all the Saints who have pleased You throughout the ages, we may merit to be co-heirs to eternal life, and may praise and glorify You through Your Son, Jesus Christ.” While at Mass or Eucharistic Adoration, we are in the Real Presence of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. We are also joined by the Saints and Angels in Heaven. One day we will see this reality for ourselves. For now, we believe with the eyes of faith. Let us take courage whenever we feel lonely or are missing a loved one. Jesus’ Loving and Merciful Heart is constantly beating for us and yearning for us to spend time with Him in the Eucharist. This is where we find our peace. This is where our hearts are fed. Like Saint John, let us rest peacefully on the loving breast of Jesus and pray that many others will find their way to His Sacred Eucharistic Heart. Then, we will be truly together.

Q - 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!

Tired of all that life is throwing at you? This super-food might be just what you need! Homer’s Odyssey, Herman Melville’s Moby Dick, Jack Kerouac’s On the Road…all have something in common—the main characters are making their way through their respective life journeys. They can serve as a reminder to us that we are also on a journey. Winner Takes it All At the high point of Prophet Elijah’s life journey, he faces down the prophets of Ba’al, the pagan god. Elijah is on the top of Mount Carmel with 400 pagan prophets and challenges them to a prophetic duel. He says: “Then you call on the name of your god and I will call on the name of the Lord; the god who answers by fire is indeed God.”(1 Kings 18:24) It’s a great confrontation, a real test. One can imagine how this duel would have been promoted on Pay-for-TV! The priests of Ba’al really get into it: they pray and dance themselves into a frenzy as if they were at a rage gathering, all the while calling upon their god to do his thing. Nothing happens. Elijah taunts them: “Cry aloud! Surely he is a god; either he is meditating, or he has wandered away, or he is on a journey, or perhaps he is asleep and must be awakened.” (1 Kings 18:27) So, they dial up their effort. They call and call, slash themselves with swords and spears until they are a bloody mess...of course, nothing happens. In contrast, Elijah calmly calls upon Yahweh just once, who brings down fire to consume the sacrifice, proving that there’s only one true God: Yahweh. With that, the crowd is astounded, and all the people fall prostrate as they exclaim: “The Lord indeed is God; the Lord indeed is God.” (1 Kings 18:39). Elijah then commands the crowd to seize the pagan prophets and have them marched down to the brook Kishon, where he slits their throats. Talk about winner-take-all! An Unexpected Twist Well, one can imagine that the pagan Queen Jezebel was not a happy camper, having 400 of her prophets humiliated and slaughtered. She has to do something to save face and maintain her imperial prerogatives. If Ba’al is discredited, she will be as well, so she sends her secret police and troops after Elijah, who is now on the run. He is fleeing for his life, and if they catch him, they will murder him. We hear that Elijah “went a day’s journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a solitary broom tree. He asked that he might die: ‘It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors.’” (1 Kings 19:4) His life, which had just come to a high point with the confrontation of the pagan prophets, has now bottomed out. He’s discouraged, saddened, and so depressed that he wants God to take his life—he wants to die. He is tired of running. The prophet’s prayer for death is not heard. His mission has not yet been completed. Then an angel of the Lord, a messenger from God, comes to him: “Suddenly an angel touched him and said to him: ‘Get up and eat.’ He looked, and there at his head was a cake baked on hot stones, and a jar of water. He ate and drank, and lay down again. The angel of the Lord came a second time, touched him, and said: ‘Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you.’” (1 Kings 19: 5-7) The angel directs him to Mount Horeb, which is another name for Mount Sinai, the holy mountain. Sustained by the mysterious food and drink, Elijah is able to walk for forty days, a very significant number as it signifies completeness in the Biblical context. He then receives a revelation, just as his ancestor Moses did. So, we have a story that begins with desperation and ends with the prophet once again actively engaged in the affairs of God. Modern-day Jezebels We may not be pursued by the agents of Jezebel, but we do have to contend with evil influences in our daily lives, so we can easily identify with the prophet Elijah. Many of us, especially those who have lived a while, reach this point where life is really difficult. We don’t have the energy that we once had when we were younger, and the enthusiasm for life has waned. Sometimes, it’s all we can do to get through the day, and that is before we had to contend with the pandemics, racial discord, threats to our democracy, and environmental degradation. Life has really beaten us up. There are only so many psychological blows that we can handle. On top of that, our religious practice has become way too familiar, even mechanical. Sometimes, it seems that we’ve lost our sense of direction or purpose. A lot of us have become like Elijah the prophet. When we hit bottom like this, what do we need? The same thing Elijah did—sustenance for the journey and a renewed sense of direction and purpose. We find our sustenance in Jesus, who said: “I am the living bread … Whoever eats of this bread will live forever.” (John 6:51). Notice two things: Jesus, the living bread, is both the means and the end. Not only is He our sustenance for the journey, but He is also the destination. The Food that We Become When we celebrate the Holy Mass, we offer ourselves as a gift to God, symbolized by bread and wine. In return, we receive the self-gifting Real Presence of Christ himself. As we consume the Eucharist, we don’t make bread and wine become alive, rather, that consecrated, Heavenly bread makes us become alive because it assimilates us to it! When we receive His body and blood, we are receiving His soul and divinity. When that happens, we are drawn into His Being, into His divine Life. We now have the means to see as Jesus sees and to live a life similar to His— to value all we do as serving the Father. The Eucharist is also the end of our journey. We have a taste of Heaven on Earth because we enter into the mystery of God. Through the Eucharist, we experience Heaven in space and time. We experience oneness with God, each other, and all of Creation. We experience a fullness of self, which is what our heart desires now and forever! If you want to have sustenance and courage for the journey, make the Eucharist, the living bread, the very center of your life. If you want the joy and satisfaction of a life fully imbued with God, receive Jesus’ gift of living bread.

Would my life ever return to normal? How can I possibly continue my work? Brooding over these, a terrible solution popped into my head… I was finding life extremely stressful. In my fifth year at college, the onset of bipolar disorder was hindering my efforts to complete my teaching degree. I had no diagnosis yet, but I was plagued with insomnia, and I looked frazzled and unkempt, which impeded my prospects of employment as a teacher. Since I had strong natural tendencies toward perfectionism, I felt so ashamed and feared that I was letting everyone down. I spiraled into anger, despondency, and depression. People were concerned about my decline and tried to help. I was even sent to the hospital by ambulance from the school, but doctors could find nothing wrong except elevated blood pressure. I prayed but found no consolation. Even Easter Mass—my favorite time—didn’t break the vicious cycle. Why wouldn’t Jesus help me? I felt so angry with Him. Finally, I just stopped praying. As this continued, day after day, month after month, I didn’t know what to do. Would my life ever return to normal? It seemed unlikely. As graduation approached, my fear increased. Teaching is a tough job with few breaks, and the students would need me to remain level-headed while dealing with their many needs and providing a good learning environment. How could I possibly do this in my current state? A terrible solution popped into my head: “You should just kill yourself.” Instead of casting off that thought and sending it straight back to hell where it belonged, I let it sit. It seemed like a simple, logical answer to my dilemma. I just wanted to be numb instead of under constant attack. To my utter regret, I chose despair. But, in what I expected to be my last moments, I thought of my family and the type of person I had once been. In genuine remorse, I raised my head to the heavens and said: “I’m so sorry, Jesus. Sorry for everything. Just give me what I deserve.” I thought those would be the last words I would utter in this life. But God had other plans. Listening to the Divine My mother was, by providence, praying the Divine Mercy Chaplet at that very moment. Suddenly, she heard the words loud and clear in her heart “Go find Ellen.” She obediently set aside her rosary beads and found me on the floor of the garage. She caught on quickly, exclaiming in horror: “What are you doing?!” while she pulled me into the house. My parents were heartbroken. There’s no rulebook for times such as these, but they decided to take me to Mass. I was totally broken, and I needed a Savior more than ever before. I longed for a come-to-Jesus moment, but I was convinced that I was the last person in the world He would ever want to see. I wanted to believe that Jesus is my Shepherd and would come after His lost sheep, but it was hard because nothing had changed. I was still consumed by intense self-hatred, oppressed by darkness. It was almost physically painful. During the preparation of the gifts, I broke down in tears. I had not cried for a really long time, but once I started, I couldn’t stop. I was at the end of my own strength, with no idea where to go next. But as I wept, the weight slowly lifted, and I felt myself enfolded in His Divine Mercy. I didn’t deserve it, but He gave me the gift of Himself, and I knew that He loved me the same at my lowest point as much as He loved me at my highest point. In Pursuit of Love In the days to come, I could barely face God, but He kept showing up and pursuing me in the little things. I re-established communication with Jesus with the aid of a Divine Mercy picture in our living room. I tried to talk, mostly complaining about the struggle and then feeling bad about it in light of the recent rescue. Weirdly, I thought I could hear a tender voice whispering: “Did you really think I would leave you to die? I love you. I will never forsake you. I promise to never leave you. All is forgiven. Trust in my mercy.” I wanted to believe this, but I couldn’t trust that it was true. I was growing discouraged at the walls I was erecting, but I kept chatting with Jesus: “How do I learn to trust You?” The answer surprised me. Where do you go when you feel no hope but have to go on living? When you feel totally unlovable, too proud to accept anything yet desperately wanting to be humble? In other words, where do you want to go when you want a full reconciliation with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit but are too scared and disbelieving of a loving reception to find your way home? The answer is the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God, and Queen of Heaven. While I was learning to trust, my awkward attempts did not displease Jesus. He was calling me closer, closer to His Sacred Heart, through His Blessed Mother. I fell in love with Him and His faithfulness. I could admit everything to Mary. Although I feared that I could not keep my promise to my earthly mother because, on my own, I was still barely mustering the will to live, my mother inspired me to consecrate my life to Mary, trusting that she would help me get through this. I didn’t know much about what that meant, but 33 Days to Morning Glory and Consoling the Heart of Jesus by Father Michael E. Gaitley, MIC, helped me understand. The Blessed Mother is always willing to be our intercessor, and she will never turn down a request from a child wanting to return to Jesus. As I went through the consecration, I resolved never to attempt suicide again with the words: “No matter what happens, I will not quit.” Meanwhile, I started taking long walks on the beach while I talked with God the Father and meditated on the parable of the prodigal son. I tried to put myself in the shoes of the prodigal son, but it took me some time to get close to God the Father. First, I imagined Him at a distance, then walking toward me. Another day, I pictured Him running towards me even though it made Him look ridiculous to His friends and neighbors. Finally, the day came when I could picture myself in the arms of the Father, then being welcomed not just to His home but to my seat at the family table. As I envisaged Him pulling out a chair for me, I was no longer a headstrong young woman but a 10-year-old girl with ridiculous glasses and a bob haircut. When I accepted the Father’s love for me, I became like a little child again, living in the present moment and trusting Him completely. I fell in love with God and His faithfulness. My Good Shepherd has saved me from the prison of fear and anger, continuing to lead me along the safe path and carrying me when I falter. Now, I want to share my story so that everyone can know God’s goodness and love. His Sacred Heart is welling up with tender love and mercy just for you. He wants to love you lavishly, and I encourage you to welcome Him without fear. He will never abandon you or let you down. Step into His light and come home.

Have you been dreaming of a lasting peace that seems to somehow evade you no matter how hard you try?  It is natural for us to constantly feel unprepared in an ever-changing, unpredictable world. In this scary and exhausting ordeal, it’s easy to become frightened—like a trapped animal with nowhere to run. If only we worked harder, longer, or were more in control, maybe we could catch up and finally be free to relax and find peace. I have lived this way for decades. Relying on myself and my efforts, I never really 'caught up.' I slowly realized it was an illusion to live that way. Eventually, I found a solution that has been revolutionary for me. It may feel the opposite of what is required, but trust me when I say this: Surrendering is the answer to this laborious search for peace. The Perfect Move As a Catholic, I know that I am supposed to give my heavy loads to the Lord. I also know that I am supposed to ‘let Jesus take the wheel' so that my burden would become lighter. My problem was that I did not know how to "give my burdens to the Lord." I would pray, beg, make the occasional deal, and once, even gave God a deadline (that one ended with me being schooled at a retreat by Saint Padre Pio: "Don't give God deadlines." Message received!). So, what are we to do? As humans, we base everything on a pixel of information we have at our disposal and an excruciatingly minute understanding of all factors, natural and supernatural. While I may have my thoughts on the best solutions, I hear Him loud and clear in my head: "My ways are not your ways, Barb, nor are my thoughts your thoughts," says the Lord. Here's the deal. God is God, and we are not. He knows everything—past, present, and future. We know squat. Of course, God, in His all-encompassing wisdom, understands things better than us, as well as the perfect move to make in time and history. How to Surrender If nothing in your life is working by all your human efforts, surrendering them is essential. But surrendering doesn’t mean looking at God as a vending machine whereby we put in our prayers and select how we want Him to answer. If, like me, you are struggling to surrender, I would love to share the antidote I found: the Surrender Novena. I was introduced to it a few years ago and am grateful beyond words. Servant of God, Father Don Dolindo Ruotolo, Spiritual Director to Padre Pio, received this Novena from Christ Jesus. Each day of the novena brilliantly speaks to every individual in ways only the Lord would know how to address. Rather than the same repetitive words each day, Christ, who knows us all too well, reminds us of all the ways we tend to get in the way of authentically surrendering, thus impeding the Master's work in His own way and time. The closing statement: "O Jesus, I surrender myself to you, take care of everything," is repeated ten times. Why? Because we need to believe and fully trust in Christ Jesus to perfectly take care of everything.

Life seems too difficult sometimes, but if you hold on and trust, unexpected gifts can surprise you. “Protect us from all fear and anxiety as we wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ.” Being a lifelong Catholic, I’d recited this prayer at every Mass. Fear hasn’t been my companion for many years, though there was a time when it was. I’d come to know the “perfect love” described in 1 John 4:18, and was helped to live in the reality of He who conquers fear. I seldom experience anxiety at this point in my life, but one morning I did feel a sense of foreboding. I couldn’t quite put my finger on the cause. Recently, tripping on a curb resulted in a hard fall, and I was still feeling discomfort in my hip and pelvis. Sharp pains resurfacing every time I lifted my arms reminded me that my shoulders still needed more time to heal. New job stresses and the sudden death of a dear friend’s son added to my angst. The state of our world alone can cause significant distress for anyone who spends much time digesting the headlines. Despite the unknown origin of my unease, I knew how to respond. Closing my eyes, I surrendered the heavy burden I was feeling. Angels Working Overtime The next day, while I was driving to a patient’s home, a tropical storm developed unexpectedly. Traffic was heavy, and despite beaming headlights and decreasing speed, visibility was obscured by pounding sheets of rain. Out of nowhere, I felt another vehicle’s impact, pushing my car into the right lane! Surprisingly calm, I steered to the emergency lane, despite a now flattened tire’s drag. A fire rescue vehicle soon pulled up; a paramedic who hopped into my car to avoid the torrential downpour inquired if I was hurt. No...I wasn’t! That seemed highly unlikely since it had only been a few days since the lingering aftereffects of my fall had ceased. I’d prayed for protection that morning before setting out, knowing what the weather predicted. Clearly, the angels had been working overtime; cushioning first my fall, then the slam from this crash. With my car now in the body shop and insurance covering the repairs, my husband Dan and I packed for our long-planned vacation. Just before we left, I was disheartened to hear that our insurer was almost certainly going to total my car! Only five years old and in pristine condition prior to the crash, its Blue Book value currently was a mere $8,150. That wasn’t good news! We intended to keep this fuel-efficient hybrid as long as it would keep running, even purchasing an extended warranty to ensure our plan. Taking a deep breath, I again acted on what I’ve learned to do in situations beyond my control: I released it to God and asked for His intervention. Unfailing Prayer Once in Salt Lake City, we secured our rental car and were soon driving through the beautiful Grand Teton National Park. Pulling into the parking garage of the hotel that evening, I uncharacteristically backed into a narrow spot. While Dan unloaded our luggage, I noticed a screw in one tire. My husband’s concern about the puncture prompted him to call various service centers. Finding none open on Sundays, we decided to take our chances driving. The next morning, we said a prayer and set out, hoping the tire would hold while driving on the narrow mountain roads in and out of Yellowstone. Fortunately, the day was uneventful. Arriving at the Hampton Inn, where Dan had made a reservation months before, our jaws dropped! Right next door was a tire repair shop! Monday morning’s quick service meant we were on the road in less than an hour! It turned out that the tire was leaking, so the repair averted a possible blowout—a blessing since we ended up driving over 1200 miles that week! My body shop, meanwhile, authorized further investigation for “hidden damages” from the accident. If found, the cost would exceed the car’s value and definitely lead to totaling! Praying daily, I yielded the outcome and waited. Finally, I was informed that the cost of the repairs had come in just under the wire...they would fix my car after all! (A few weeks later, as I went to pick up my refurbished car, I found that the cost had indeed exceeded the Blue Book value, but my prayer was answered too!) A Spectacular Blessing Another example of God’s providential care came as we continued on our trek into Yellowstone National Park! The parking lot was jammed when we arrived. We circled aimlessly when suddenly, a spot was available near the front! We hurriedly parked and walked over to find out that the next eruption of the Old Faithful* was expected in ten minutes. With just enough time to get to the viewing area, the geyser exploded! We traced the path of the boardwalk through the various geological formations, springs, and geysers. My outdoors-loving husband busily snapped pictures, one after another! Marveling at the amazing spectacle surrounding us, I glanced at my watch...the next eruption of Old Faithful was expected soon. Sprays burst as expected into the air, this time not obscured by tourists since we were on the back side of the geyser! Feeling grateful, I thanked God for the day’s blessings—first, the tire shop’s perfect location, then the good news from the insurance company about my car, and finally, the amazing spectacle of nature. Reflecting on God’s active presence, I prayed: “Thank you for loving us, Lord! I know You love every other person on earth just as much, but Dan connects with You so strongly in Creation, would You reveal Yourself to him once more?” Continuing to amble along, my husband’s camera battery died. Sitting while he replaced it, I heard a strange sound. I turned around to see a huge explosion. It was spectacular—the Beehive was twice as high as Old Faithful! Looking into our guidebook, we read that this geyser was one of the best, but so unpredictable that eruptions could occur from anywhere between 8 hours to up to 5 days...but, it was at the moment we were there that it happened! For sure, God was manifesting Himself to my husband just as I’d asked! Our final stop featured several geysers where a gentleman offered to take our picture. The moment he clicked the shutter, that geyser let loose! We experienced yet another unexpected gift of God’s perfect timing and blessing! As if basking in the beauty of the incredible vistas, waterfalls, mountains, lakes, and rivers wasn’t enough, we also experienced beautiful weather! Despite the prediction of rain every day, we encountered only a few brief showers and lovely temperatures day and night! I had come full circle from my recent stress and anxiety. Surrender led to an immersion in Jesus’ care as well as in the awesome wonder of our Creator! That prayer I had said so many times at Mass was certainly answered! I had been protected, both from fear and serious injury, while being released from anxiety. Waiting had indeed resulted in joyful hope….the anchor for my soul.

Scared and alone on a boat in the middle of a stormy sea, little Vinh made a bargain with God... When the Vietnam War ended in 1975, I was still a child, the second last of 14 children. My wonderful parents were devout Catholics, but since Catholics suffered persecution in Vietnam, they wanted us children to escape to a different country for a better life. The refugees usually left in tiny wooden boats, which would often capsize at sea, leaving none of the passengers alive. So, my parents decided that we would try to leave one at a time, and they made great sacrifices to save enough to pay the tremendous costs. The first time I tried to leave, I was only nine. It took me two years and fourteen attempts before I finally managed to escape. It would take another ten years for my parents to make it across. The Escape Crowded onto a small wooden boat with 77 others, 11-year-old me was on my own in the middle of nowhere. We faced many hazards. On the seventh night, as a huge storm battered us, a lady beseeched me: “We may not survive this storm; whatever your religion is, pray to your God.” I responded that I had already prayed. I had, in fact, set a bargain: “Save me, and I’ll be a good boy.” As the wind and waves whipped over the boat that night, I promised to dedicate my life to serving God and His people for the rest of my life. When I woke the next morning, we were still afloat, and the sea was calm. We were still in dire peril, however, because we had run out of food and water. Two days later, my prayers were answered when we finally landed in Malaysia after ten days at sea. Starting a new life in a refugee camp, I set out to be faithful to the bargain I had made with God. Without parents, without anyone to take care of me, without anyone to tell me what to do, I put my total trust in God and asked Him to guide me. I went to church every day, and the priest soon asked me to be an altar server. Father Simon was a French missionary priest who worked really hard, helping refugees with all their needs, especially their immigration applications. He became my hero. He found such joy in serving others that I wanted to be like him when I grew up. With the challenges I faced in starting a new life, I forgot my old promise. At the end of Year 10, as I thought about what I’d really like to do with my life, our Lord reminded me of my desire to become a priest. They arranged work experience for me with our parish priest, Monsignor Keating. I loved it so much that I decided to join the seminary once I completed high school. As my parents had immigrated to Australia by then, I joined Saint Charles Seminary in Perth. Keeper of Promises For the past 26 years, I have been serving as a priest for the Archdiocese of Perth. Like Father Simon, I have found great joy in serving God’s people. My biggest challenge was being appointed to found a new parish on the outskirts of Perth in 2015. I was at a loss. There was a school but no church or facilities, so we started by meeting to say Mass in a classroom. I sought advice from my fellow priests. Two of their remarks stuck with me. One said: “Build a church, and then you will have people,” another said: “Build a community. When you have the people, you can build a church.” I asked myself, “Do I have the chicken, or do I have the egg?” I decided that I needed both the chicken and the egg, so I built both the community AND the church. A Vietnamese refugee with scant chances of surviving persecution in his home country, who feared he wouldn’t live through the night of a terrifying storm in the middle of the ocean, building a church community in the Australian bush—I am still amazed at the marvelous works of the Lord!! The Dominican Sisters helped me  to build the community and also in fundraising to make Saint John Paul II Catholic Church a reality. Scores of generous hearts from other parishes in Perth and all over the world extended us a helping hand, and I am thankful to God for all their support. Instances like these repeatedly remind me that the word ‘Catholic' means universal—no matter where we are in the world, we are the people of God. Our church, which started with a dozen people, now has over 400 parishioners. Our members come from 31 different cultures. Every week, I see new faces. As I come to learn about these diverse cultures and people who share a common faith, it helps deepen my relationship with God. Receiving Begets Giving Although I enjoy my life and ministry in Australia, I have not forgotten my roots in Vietnam. The Lord has been using me to support an orphanage run by Dominican Sisters. Along with fundraising, I also bring people on mission journeys to help the nuns take care of the orphans. The youth immerse themselves in the missionary work, feeding them, teaching them, doing whatever is needed, and forming a relationship that continues beyond the length of our visits. No one goes home without experiencing a profound shift in their outlook on life. It has been over 40 years since I was on that little boat where I made a promise to God. My relationship with God had been nurtured by my parents to reach that point of surrender. When they taught me to say the Rosary, I thought it was boring. I would complain, “Why do we have to say the same prayers over and over again? Can’t we say them once and then say the same, the same, the same so I can go out and play.” But I came to appreciate that the Rosary is a summary of the entire Bible, and the repetition of prayer enables me to meditate upon the mysteries. I tell people now that BIBLE stands for Basic Information Before Leaving Earth. My parents had given me the formation to be faithful to the promise I made on the boat, and God, in His mercy, took care of me when my parents could not. They continued to pray for their children, entrusting us to the Lord, and it was a delightful surprise for them when I became a priest. Now, it is my job to support families in nurturing faith and counseling anyone who comes to me for advice: “Do not be afraid to discern a call from God. Take time to talk to God and allow God to talk to you. You will slowly get to know what God would like you to do in your life.” I continue to pray every day that I will truly be faithful to that promise I made to God—to be His child forevermore.