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Looking for beauty that never fades?
Then this is for you!
Mark Twain, the celebrated American writer and humorist, once said “Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.” Humor aside, we all know that it is not easy to deal with aging no matter who we are. And for the rich and famous, it is especially challenging to watch youth and beauty fade away.
As a teenager in the early 1960s Mary Ann was beautiful, charming and full of energy. When she saw Dolores Hart’s film “Come Fly with Me” in 1963, she was fascinated by the status and privilege of the globetrotting stewardesses who were the movie’s main characters. The film glorified the glamor, prestige and adventure of being a stewardess. She started dreaming of being like Dolores Hart’s character traveling the world seeking romance and excitement.
Landing a job as a stewardess in those days was difficult. But Mary Ann was smart and beautiful and soon got that dream job. TWA, in those days, was one of the most prestigious international airlines and Mary Ann was soon featured in the company’s Skyliner magazine and got lots of attention. Eventually, she found more success after switching careers to publishing and journalism. She enjoyed the attention she received and maintained an active lifestyle. By the time she hit fifty, she started noticing wrinkles on her face. They horrified her. How could she remain who she was without her beauty and youthful smile?
A close friend noticed the change in Mary Ann’s mood. When they talked, Mary Ann confessed her concern over the aging process. Her friend recommended that she meet someone special at the nearby Benedictine Abbey of Regina Laudis, a Cloistered Convent located in Bethlehem, Connecticut. On the day of the meeting, her friend introduced Mary Ann to the Prioress, Mother Dolores Hart. Mary Ann quickly noticed the resemblance between the Prioress and the actress she adored in that 60’s movie. Mother Dolores assured her that she was the same Dolores! Mary Ann could not believe that the favorite actress of her teen years was the Mother Superior of a convent, and a cloistered convent at that! In their private time together, Mary Ann told Mother Dolores about the pain of growing old and how the thought of losing her beauty and charm terrified her.
Here was Mary Ann speaking with a woman who, before joining the convent was a prominent actress throughout the 1950s and 1960s. Not only had she received the Theatre World Award and a Tony Award nomination, she was the first actress to kiss Elvis Presley on screen. She had grown up near Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood dreaming of becoming a movie star. Her dream came true, but God had other plans.
In the early 1960s, Dolores performed at the Broadway theaters in New York City. During a long break, she did not have a house to go to like other actors who lived in the area. A friend told her about an Abbey in Connecticut which included guest quarters, in compliance with the rule of St. Benedict.
Dolores decided to stay at this Abbey with its cloistered convent. She was fascinated by how the sisters worked hard and yet remained so gracious. Her stay in the Abbey captivated her so much that she knew she would return soon! Eventually, Dolores recognized a calling to religious life and abandoned her career, her engagement to her fiancée, and the life she had known in order to embrace life in a cloistered convent.
As Mary Ann listened to this story, she was totally absorbed. Mother Dolores told her that, at the height of her career, she looked at the mirror one day and realized that her fame had come because of her beauty and youthfulness, but those good looks would soon fade. She came to understand that the only beauty which lasts is inner beauty.
Mary Ann left that conversation with a new perspective on life. Though still a beautiful woman, it was Sister Dolores’ inner beauty that radiated from her. The body is a temple for the soul, so when we care for the beauty of the soul, that inner beauty is reflected on the face and in all our actions.
Joseph Melookaran is a retired entrepreneur actively involved in philanthropic activities around the world focusing on youth and orphans. He is a former White House Presidential Commissioner (2004-2007) and National Board Treasurer of World Affairs Councils of America.
When Andrea Acutis arranged a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, he thought that his son would be excited. Carlo was keen on going to daily Mass and reciting his prayers, so his reply came as a surprise: "I prefer to stay in Milan … Since Jesus remains with us always, in the Consecrated Host, what need is there to make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem to visit the places where He lived 2000 years ago? Instead, tabernacles ought to be visited with the same devotion!" Andrea was struck by this great devotion that his son cherished for the Eucharist. Carlo was born in 1991, the year the World Wide Web was invented. The little genius walked when he was just four months old, and started reading and writing at the age of three. The world would’ve looked at his intellect and dreamt of a bright future but the Divine had different plans. Combining his love for the Eucharist and technology, he left the world a great legacy of a record of Eucharistic miracles from across the world. He began the collection in 2002 when he was just 11 years old and completed it a year before he succumbed to leukemia. This young computer geek, at such a young age, even built a website (carloacutis.com), a lasting record, with all the collected information. The Eucharistic exhibition he pioneered was held in five continents. Ever since, many miracles have been reported. On his website, he has written the lasting mission of his life on Earth: "The more Eucharist we receive, the more we will become like Jesus, so that on this Earth, we will have a foretaste of Heaven." This Italian teenage designer and computer whiz is soon to become Saint Carlo Acutis. Widely known as the first millennial patron of the internet, Blessed Carlo continues to draw millions of youngsters to the love of Jesus in the Eucharist.
By: Shalom Tidings
MoreWhat happens to your soul when you have an unexpected encounter…? I have a fond childhood memory about Eucharistic Adoration which is very dear to my heart. I participated in the rite of exposition and benediction of the Blessed Sacrament as a child, and I was mesmerized by the Eucharistic Jesus in a majestic monstrance with incense rising up towards Him. As the priest worshipped God by swinging the censer, incense rose towards the Eucharist and the whole congregation sang together, “O Sacrament Most Holy, O Sacrament Divine, All praise and all thanksgiving, Be every moment Thine.” I longed to touch the censer myself and gently push it forward so I could cause the incense to rise up to the Lord Jesus. The priest gestured to me not to touch the censer and I turned my attention to the incense smoke that rose up along with my heart and eyes to the Lord God fully present in the Eucharist. This participation in Eucharistic Adoration as a child filled my soul with so much beauty—the smell of the incense, the entire congregation singing in unison, and the vision of the Eucharistic Lord being worshipped—my senses were thoroughly satisfied, leaving me longing for the experience again. Caught Again I admit with much sadness however that several years afterwards, as a teenager—when I had more opportunities—I gave into hesitation and stayed away from Eucharistic Adoration, depriving myself of such great beauty and source of sanctity. My reason for this seems to me very silly now. I thought I had to continuously pray for the entire one hour of Eucharistic Adoration and it seemed like a very long time. How many of us today hesitate to go to Eucharistic Adoration for similar reasons? We sometimes feel stressed, bored, lazy or even afraid about going to Eucharistic Adoration and we deprive ourselves of this great gift. I say, the trick is to just start going and soon you wouldn’t want to stop. Stronger than Ever Life threw its share of struggles and trials at me in my young adulthood; recalling where I had received such comfort, I turned to God for strength and sustenance. One specific way I turned to God is by going to Eucharistic Adoration on First Fridays. I began by sitting silently in the presence of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament for a whole hour, first, simply allowing myself to be there; and then just talking to the Lord about my life, asking for His help and telling Him that I loved Him. Have you ever thought of the possibility of simply showing up in front of the Eucharistic Jesus and doing nothing but staying in His divine presence for an hour? For me, as years went by, I found that spending time at Eucharistic Adoration has changed my life in profound ways, as I become more and more aware of my deepest identity as a beloved daughter of God. We know that our Lord Jesus is truly and fully present in the Eucharist, His body, blood, soul and divinity. The Eucharist is Jesus Himself. Spending time with the Eucharistic Jesus can cleanse you from your sins and fill you with His great love for you. Let us always be fervent, to spend one hour with our God, who continues to be with us in the Eucharist, to the end of the age. Our personal relationship with our God will develop and become stronger and stronger, the more we spend time with the Lord Jesus in Eucharistic Adoration. I assure you that it will become easier, therefore, do not give in to the initial hesitation and do not be afraid in any way to spend time with our Eucharistic Lord, who is love and mercy itself, goodness and goodness alone.
By: Pavithra Kappen
MoreLoneliness 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.
By: Denise Jasek
MoreOften, it’s easy to find fault with others but much more difficult to trace the real culprit. I discovered a parking ticket stuck on my car's windshield wiper. It was an infringement notice for a $287 fine due to the blocking of a driveway. I became upset, and my mind filled with self-justifying thoughts. I kept thinking: "It was just a few inches! Wasn't the garage closed? It didn't look like it was being used. Someone else was parked in front of my car, blocking most of the driveway. There was no available parking space, so I had to park half a kilometer away from my intended destination." Before the Fall But wait a minute! Why was I making so many excuses? It's clear that I had violated the parking rules, and now, I had to face the consequences. However, it's always been my first instinct to try to defend myself whenever I make a mistake. This habit runs deep within me. I wonder where it originated. Well, it goes back to the Garden of Eden. Yet another excuse? Perhaps, but I tend to believe that the first sin was not disobedience or a lack of trust in God but that of evading accountability. Why? When Adam and Eve fell into the snake's trap, they had never experienced evil or tasted the fruit of knowledge. They only knew God, so how could they recognize that the snake was evil and lying? What even is a lie? Can we expect them to distrust the snake? Weren't they like a six-month-old baby trying to play with a cobra? However, things changed after they ate the forbidden fruit. Their eyes were opened, and they realized they had sinned. Yet when God asked them about it, Adam blamed Eve, and Eve blamed the snake. No wonder we tend to do the same! A Precious Opportunity Awaits Christianity, in a way, is simple. It's about being accountable for our sins. God only asks us to take responsibility for our wrongdoings. When we inevitably fall, the most appropriate action for a Christian is to take full responsibility for the mistake, turn to Jesus, and offer an unconditional apology. Needless to say, taking responsibility also comes with a personal commitment to try our best not to repeat the mistake. Jesus takes on the accountability Himself and resolves it with the Father through the immeasurable value of His Precious Blood. Imagine that someone from your family made a mistake that resulted in a huge financial loss. If you knew that your bank was willing to reimburse the loss upon receiving a statement, would you waste your time blaming each other for the mistake? Are we truly aware of the precious opportunity we have in Christ? Let us not fall into the trap of Satan, who is inclined to blame. Instead, let us make a conscious effort not to point fingers at others but rather run toward Jesus when we stumble.
By: Antony Kalapurackal
MoreSeveral years ago, I participated in the annual meeting of the Academy of Catholic Theology, a group of about fifty theologians dedicated to thinking according to the mind of the Church. Our general topic was the Trinity, and I had been invited to give one of the papers. I chose to focus on the work of Saint Irenaeus, one of the earliest and most important of the fathers of the Church. Irenaeus was born around 125 in the town of Smyrna in Asia Minor. As a young man, he became a disciple of Polycarp who, in turn, had been a student of John the Evangelist. Later in life, Irenaeus journeyed to Rome and eventually to Lyons where he became Bishop after the martyrdom of the previous leader. Irenaeus died around the year 200, most likely as a martyr, though the exact details of his death are lost to history. His theological masterpiece is called Adversus Haereses (Against the Heresies), but it is much more than a refutation of the major objections to Christian faith in his time. It is one of the most impressive expressions of Christian doctrine in the history of the church, easily ranking with the De Trinitate of Saint Augustine and the Summa theologiae of Saint Thomas Aquinas. In my Washington paper, I argued that the master idea in Irenaeus’s theology is that God has no need of anything outside of Himself. I realize that this seems, at first blush, rather discouraging, but if we follow Irenaeus’s lead, we see how, spiritually speaking, it opens up a whole new world. Irenaeus knew all about the pagan gods and goddesses who stood in desperate need of human praise and sacrifice, and he saw that a chief consequence of this theology is that people lived in fear. Since the gods needed us, they were wont to manipulate us to satisfy their desires, and if they were not sufficiently honored, they could (and would) lash out. But the God of the Bible, who is utterly perfect in Himself, has no need of anything at all. Even in His great act of making the universe, He doesn’t require any pre-existing material with which to work; rather (and Irenaeus was the first major Christian theologian to see this), He creates the universe ex nihilo (from nothing). And precisely because He doesn’t need the world, He makes the world in a sheerly generous act of love. Love, as I never tire of repeating, is not primarily a feeling or a sentiment, but instead an act of the will. It is to will the good of the other as other. Well, the God who has no self-interest at all, can only love. From this intuition, the whole theology of Irenaeus flows. God creates the cosmos in an explosion of generosity, giving rise to myriad plants, animals, planets, stars, angels, and human beings, all designed to reflect some aspect of His own splendor. Irenaeus loves to ring the changes on the metaphor of God as artist. Each element of creation is like a color applied to the canvas or a stone in the mosaic, or a note in an overarching harmony. If we can’t appreciate the consonance of the many features of God’s universe, it is only because our minds are too small to take in the Master’s design. And His entire purpose in creating this symphonic order is to allow other realities to participate in His perfection. At the summit of God’s physical creation stands the human being, loved into existence as all things are, but invited to participate even more fully in God’s perfection by loving his Creator in return. The most oft-cited quote from Irenaeus is from the fourth book of the Adversus Haereses, and it runs as follows: “The glory of God is a human being fully alive.” Do you see how this is precisely correlative to the assertion that God needs nothing? The glory of the pagan gods and goddesses was not a human being fully alive, but rather a human being in submission, a human being doing what he’s been commanded to do. But the true God doesn’t play such manipulative games. He finds His joy in willing, in the fullest measure, our good. One of the most beautiful and intriguing of Irenaeus’ ideas is that God functions as a sort of benevolent teacher, gradually educating the human race in the ways of love. He imagined Adam and Eve, not so much as adults endowed with every spiritual and intellectual perfection, but more as children or teenagers, inevitably awkward in their expression of freedom. The long history of salvation is, therefore, God’s patient attempt to train His human creatures to be His friends. All of the covenants, laws, commandments, and rituals of both ancient Israel and the church should be seen in this light: not arbitrary impositions, but the structure that the Father God gives to order His children toward full flourishing. There is much that we can learn from this ancient master of the Christian faith, especially concerning the good news of the God who doesn’t need us!
By: Bishop Robert Barron
MoreWould 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.
By: Ellen Wilson
MoreI lost my iPhone a year ago. At first, it felt like a limb was amputated. I had owned one for thirteen years, and it was like an extension of myself. In the beginning days, I used the “new iPhone” like a phone, but it soon became an alarm clock, a calculator, the news, weather, banking, and much more…and then…it was gone. As I was forced into detox, I had many pressing problems. My shopping lists now needed to be written on paper. An alarm clock was purchased, and a calculator. I missed the daily ‘ping’ of messages and the scramble to open them (and the feeling of being wanted). But I was sensing the peace of not having this little piece of metal dominating my life. I hadn’t realized how demanding and controlling the device was until it was gone. The world didn’t stop. I just had to relearn new-old ways of interacting with the world, like talking to people face to face and making plans for events. I wasn’t in a hurry to replace it. In fact, its demise led to a welcome revolution in my life. I started experimenting with minimal media in my life. No newspapers, magazines, radio, television, or phone. I kept an iPad for work emails, selected YouTube videos on the weekend, and a few independent news pages. It was an experiment but one that has left me feeling calm and peaceful, enabling me to use my time for prayer and Scripture. I could now cling to God more easily, who is “the same, yesterday, and today and forever” (Hebrews 13:8). The First Commandment asks us to “love the Lord your God with all Your heart and mind and soul and love your neighbor as yourself” (Mark 12:30-31). I wonder how we can do that when our mind is on our phones for most of the day! Do we truly love God with our minds? Romans 12:2 says: “Do not conform to the pattern of this world but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” I challenge you to abstain from the media, even for a little while and even for a little bit. Feel that transforming difference in your life. Only when we give ourselves a break will we be able to love the Lord our God with renewed minds.
By: Jacinta Heley
MoreQ: I disagree with some of the teachings of the Catholic Church. Am I still a good Catholic if I don’t agree with everything? A: The Church is more than just a human institution—it is both human and divine. It does not have any authority on its own to teach anything at all. Rather, the role of the Church is to teach faithfully what Christ taught on earth: to authentically interpret the Scriptures and to hand on the Apostolic Tradition that has come down to us from the Apostles themselves. The word “Tradition” comes from the Latin word “traditio”, meaning “to hand over.” We make the distinction, however, between Tradition (with a Big T) and traditions (with a little t). Tradition (Big T) is the unchanging, everlasting teaching of the Church, which has its roots in the Apostles and Christ. Examples of this include the fact that only wheat bread and grape wine can be used for Holy Eucharist; only men can become priests; certain moral actions are always and everywhere wrong; etc. Little-t traditions are man-made traditions that are changeable, such as abstaining from meat on Fridays (this has changed in the course of the Church’s history), receiving Communion on the hand, etc. People of goodwill are allowed to have various opinions about pastoral practices, disciplines of the Church, and other traditions that are “little-t” traditions that came from human beings. However, when it comes to Apostolic Tradition (big-T), to be a good Catholic means that we must accept it as coming from Christ through the Apostles. Another distinction needs to be made, though: there is a difference between doubt and difficulty. A “difficulty” means that we struggle to understand why the Church teaches a specific thing, but a difficulty means that we accept it in humility and seek to find the answer. After all, faith is not blind! The medieval theologians had a phrase: Fides Quaerens Intellectum—Faith Seeking Understanding. We ought to ask questions and seek to understand the Faith we believe in! By contrast, a doubt says, “Because I don’t understand, I will not believe!” While difficulties stem from humility, doubt stems from pride—we think that we need to understand everything before we believe it. But let’s be honest—are any of us able to understand mysteries like the Trinity? Do we really think we are wiser than Saint Augustine, Saint Thomas Aquinas, and all of the Saints and Mystics of the Catholic Church? Do we think that the constant 2,000-year-old Tradition, which was handed down from the Apostles, is somehow in error? If we find a teaching that we grapple with, keep grappling—but do so with humility and recognize that our minds are limited and we often need to be taught! Seek, and you will find—read the Catechism or the Church Fathers, the Encyclicals of the Popes, or other solid Catholic materials. Seek out a holy priest to ask your questions. And never forget that everything the Church teaches is for your happiness! The Church’s teachings are not meant to make us miserable but rather to show us the way to genuine freedom and joy—which can only be found in a vibrant life of holiness in Jesus Christ!
By: Father Joseph Gill
MoreQ – I am always overwhelmed with anxiety—about my family, my health, my financial situation, my job. I even feel anxious about whether or not I am saved. How can I find peace of heart among so many fears? A – It is significant that the phrase “Be not afraid” occurs 365 times in the Bible—one for each day of the year! God knew that we would need daily reminders that He is in charge and that we can lay our fears upon Him! It can be hard to believe that every circumstance of our lives is already in the hands of an all-loving God. But when we look at God’s faithfulness and not our problems, suddenly, we realize how he can bring good out of everything. For example, read the Scriptures and see how God was faithful to the great heroes of the Bible! In the Old Testament, Joseph was sold into slavery in Egypt and then thrown into prison. But God turned this tragedy into an opportunity first for Joseph to rise in the government of Egypt and then for him to save his family when famine struck the land. Or, in the New Testament, Paul was imprisoned, and his life was threatened several times, but each time, God rescued him from his enemies. Look at the lives of the saints – did God ever abandon them? Think of St. John Bosco – many people sought the life of this holy priest, but each time God miraculously provided a special guardian—a big gray dog that would appear on the scene to protect him! Think of St. Francis, who was captured in battle and imprisoned for a year – and that year became his conversion experience. Think of Bl. Carlo Acutis, the young teen who died of leukemia in 2006 at age 15 and how God has brought great good from that early death, as millions have been inspired to holiness by his story and example. I can tell you that my most difficult moment – when I was kicked out of school and told to abandon my plans for the priesthood – ended up being one of the most graced and blessed experiences of my life, as it opened the door to priesthood in another, better diocese where I can use my gifts and talents for His glory. It was only with hindsight that I recognized God’s intervention in my life. But the ways God has kept me safe and brought me closer to him in the past gives me confidence that he who was faithful then will be faithful in the future. And now, turn to your own life. How have you seen God come through for you? Focus on the promises God made in Scripture. He never promised us an easy life – he promised he would never abandon us. He promised that “no eye can see and no ear can hear what God has prepared for those who love Him.” He never promised that life would always go smoothly, but he promised that “all things work for good for those who love God” (Romans 8:28) These are promises we can build our lives upon! Finally, pray the Litany of Trust. The Sisters of Life in New York wrote this beautiful litany which invites us to surrender our anxieties to God. It says, in part: From anxiety about the future, deliver me, Jesus. From the restless self-seeking in the present moment, deliver me, Jesus. From disbelief in Your love and Your presence, deliver me, Jesus. Pray continually the brief prayer: Jesus, I trust in You! And He can fill your heart with a peace that surpasses all understanding.
By: Father Joseph Gill
MoreOverwhelmed by the uncertainties in life? Take heart. I was once there too—but Jesus showed me a way through I was thirty-something, strolling through downtown in the dress I loved, an airy sky-blue print. Its shape flattered me I thought, so I wore it often. Without warning I suddenly glimpsed my reflection in a store window. Revolted, I tried to suck in my gut. It wouldn’t suck. It had nowhere to go. Bulges everywhere. Beneath the hem, my legs were hams. I loathed myself. Carefree My eating and weight were skyrocketing out of control; and beyond that, my entire life was a train wreck. Divorce had recently shredded my brief marriage. Externally I pretended everything was fine, but inside I was shattered. Isolating behind walls of fat, I shared my anguish with no one. To numb my pain, I drank alcohol, worked, and ate—excessively. Successive dieting attempts only plummeted me into another cycle of obsession, self-pity, and compulsive binging. And, beneath all that rubble, spiritual problems festered. I still called myself Catholic, but I lived like an atheist. To me, God was ‘up there’ all right, but far away and caring nothing about my miseries. Why should I trust Him in the slightest? I showed up at Sunday Mass only when visiting my parents, to deceive them into believing I practiced faithfully. In truth, I bulldozed through my days with no thought of God and went ahead doing whatever I pleased. But the chilling memory of my reflection in that window haunted me. A new restlessness gripped my soul. Change was needed, but what? I had no idea. Nor did I have any idea that God Himself was moving in that moment, beginning to expose the ache in my heart with His gentle fingers. Contending with Goliath A woman at work expressed discouragement about her eating and weight, and we connected. One day she mentioned a twelve-step group she’d begun attending. The group asserted that because disordered eating is related to our emotional and spiritual lives, losing weight and keeping it off needs to address these components as well. This integrated approach appealed to me. Despite my scorn for groups, I tried some meetings. Soon hooked, I attended regularly, and though I rarely spoke up in the meetings, afterwards I would experiment with some of the ideas I heard. This approach worked somewhat, and after a few months I was elated when my weight began to drop. However—though I admitted this to no one—I was contending with a vicious Goliath, one which threatened to destroy my progress. While at work each day, I followed a food plan that allowed me to eat moderately and to minimize temptations. But by 5:00 p.m. each day I was famished. I’d rush home and fly into a rampage, stuffing my face nonstop until I collapsed into bed. Powerless over this beast, and terrified that pounds would soon be piling on, I was disgusted with myself. What was I to do? I hadn’t a clue. The bleak pattern dragged on, and hopelessness gripped me. An Idea Popped Up Then unexpectedly the most outlandish thought popped into my head. Instead of going straight home from work, I could hit the 5:15 p.m. Mass. That would at least postpone my binge and reduce its duration by one hour. At first this idea seemed pathetic. Wasn’t it stop-gap and preposterous? But, with no other options in sight, desperation prompted me to try it. Soon I was attending Mass and receiving Holy Communion daily. My one goal was to reduce my binging. Apparently, that was enough for Jesus. Truly present in His Body and Blood, He was waiting for me there, and glad to have me back. Only much later did I realize that He had an agenda in all this too: one unfathomably higher, wider, and deeper than my own. He knew precisely what I needed and how to provide it. With tender care, he used my despair to draw my faltering feet onto solid ground and began what would be a lengthy process of healing my heart and connecting it with his own. At Mass each day, feeding me His very own Body and Blood, He began to remedy my ills, bathe me in supernatural graces, radiate light into my darkness, and equip me to combat evils that threatened me. Freedom at Last His Eucharistic graces ignited and invigorated me, and I upped my program participation to a new level. Earlier I had dabbled; now I jumped in with both feet, and as the days passed, I found two gifts which proved to be indispensable: a supportive community that stuck with me through good days and bad, and an arsenal of practical strategies. Without these, I would have lost heart and given up. But instead—over a long period, as I learned to let Jesus be for me the Savior He had died to be, as my twelve-step friendships enriched and strengthened me, and as I employed the tools and wisdom I was given, I found freedom from my disordered eating and a stable and lasting recovery plan which continues to this day. In this process, faith that was once only in my head shifted to my heart, and my false image of a remote uncaring God crumbled to smithereens. Jesus, Blessed Savior who continues to draw me closer to Himself, turned so much of my bitter into sweet. To this day, as I cooperate, He continues to transform other pits and waste lands that prevent me from flourishing. What about you? What impossible hurdles are you facing today? Whether you are troubled about your eating, anguished about a loved one who has left the faith, or crushed by other burdens, take heart. Embrace Jesus in the Holy Eucharist and in adoration. He is waiting for you. Bring your ache, your bitterness, your messes to Him. He yearns to come to your aid just as He rescued me in all my distress. No problem is too great or too little to bring to Him.
By: Margaret Ann Stimatz
MoreEver gazed into someone’s eyes with unending wonder, hoping that the moment will never pass? "Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing. In all circumstances give thanks." (1 Thessalonians 5: 16-18) The most important question that people ask is: “What is the purpose of human life?” At the risk of appearing to oversimplify reality, I will say and have often said it from the pulpit: “This life is about learning how to pray.” We came from God and our destiny is to return to God, and to begin to pray is to begin to make our way back to Him. Saint Paul tells us to go even further, that is, to ‘pray without ceasing’. But how do we do that? How do we pray without ceasing? We understand what it means to pray before Mass, pray before meals, or pray before we go to sleep, but how does one pray without ceasing? The great spiritual classic The Way of a Pilgrim, written by an unknown 19th-century Russian peasant, tackles that very question. This work focuses on the Jesus Prayer: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” Those in the Eastern rite say this repeatedly using a prayer rope, which is like a rosary, but has 100 or 200 knots, some have 300 knots. Burning Candle Obviously, one cannot be constantly saying that prayer, for example when we are talking to someone, or in a meeting, or working on some project...So how does this work? The purpose behind this constant repetition is to create a habit in the soul, a disposition. Let me compare it to someone who has a musical disposition. Those who are musically gifted almost always have a song playing in the back of their minds, perhaps a song they've heard on the radio, or a song they're working on if they are musicians. The song is not at the forefront of their minds but at the back. Similarly, to pray without ceasing is to pray in the back of one's mind, constantly. An inclination to prayer has been developed as a result of the constant repetition of this prayer: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” But the same thing can occur for those who pray the Rosary very often: “Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you; blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death.” What happens is that eventually, the actual words are no longer necessary because the very meaning that the words express have become a habit imprinted in the subconscious, and so although the mind may be preoccupied with some matter, such as paying a phone bill or shopping or taking an important phone call, the soul is praying in the background, without words, like a candle that is burning constantly. That's when we have begun to pray without ceasing. We begin with words, but eventually, we go beyond words. Prayer of Wonder There are different kinds of prayer: the prayer of petition, prayer of intercession, prayer of thanksgiving, prayer of praise, and prayer of adoration. The highest kind of prayer that each one of us is called to achieve is the prayer of adoration. In the words of Father Gerald Vann, this is the prayer of wonder: “The still, wordless gaze of Adoration, which is proper to the lover. You are not talking, not busy, not worried or agitated; you're not asking for anything: you are quiet, you are just being with, and there is love and wonder in your heart.” This prayer is much more difficult than we might tend to believe. It is about placing oneself in the presence of God, in silence, focusing all our attention on God. This is difficult, because what soon happens is that we are distracted by all kinds of thoughts, and our attention will be pulled this way and that way, without our being aware of it. Once we do become aware of it, however, we just have to refocus our attention on God, dwelling in His presence. But, within a minute, the mind will be drawn away again, distracted by thoughts. This is where short prayers are so important and helpful, like the Jesus prayer, or a short phrase from the Psalms, like “God come to my assistance, Lord make haste to help me,” (Psalm 69:2) or “Into your hands, I commend my spirit.” (Psalm 31:6) These short phrases repeated will help us to return to that interior dwelling place within. With constant practice, one eventually is able to dwell in silence, in the presence of God within, for a long time without distraction. This is also a kind of prayer that brings tremendous healing to the subconscious. Many of the thoughts that come to the surface during this time are often unhealed memories that have been stored in the subconscious, and learning to leave them behind brings about profound healing and peace; for much of our day-to-day lives is driven by these unhealed memories in the unconscious, which is why there is typically a great deal of turmoil in the interior lives of the faithful. A Peaceful Departure There are two types of people in this world: those who believe that this life is a preparation for eternal life, and those who believe that this life is all there is and everything we do is only a preparation for life in this world. I've seen a lot of people in the hospital these past few months, people who have lost their mobility, who have had to spend months in a hospital bed, many of whom died after a long period. For those who do not have an interior life and who have not cultivated the habit of prayer throughout their lives, these final years and months are often very painful and very unpleasant, which is why euthanasia is becoming more popular. But for those who have a rich interior life, those who have used the time in their lives to prepare for eternal life by learning to pray without ceasing, their final months or years, perhaps in a hospital bed, are not unbearable. Visiting these people is often a joy, because there is a deeper peace within them, and they are thankful. And the wonderful thing about them is that they are not asking to be euthanized. Instead of making their final act an act of rebellion and murder, their death becomes their final prayer, a final offering, a sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving for all they've received throughout their lives.
By: Deacon Doug McManaman
MoreIt was fully my intention to have all of the Winona-Rochester seminarians stand at one point during my installation Mass homily. I had told the people that, in the words of John Paul II, ecclesia de eucharistia (the Church comes from the Eucharist), and since the Eucharist comes from priests, it logically follows that if there are no priests, there will be no Church. So I wanted everyone to see and acknowledge the young men in our diocese who are actively discerning a call to this indispensably important way of life. During the ovation, something came to me as an inspiration. I hadn’t planned to say it. It wasn’t in my text. But I blurted out, as the applause was dying down: “Let’s double their number in the next five years!” A confirmation that this was perhaps from the Holy Spirit is that people, at every stop I’ve made so far in the diocese, have, with enthusiasm, echoed those words back to me. In fact, the leader of one of the Serra groups has told me that she and her colleagues have decided to take up the challenge. We have twenty seminarians, at both the college and major theology levels, which is pretty good for a diocese our size. And we have a wonderful coterie of priests, both active and ‘retired,’ who are busily serving our nearly one hundred parishes. But those under retirement age number only around sixty, and all of our priests are stretched thin. Furthermore, there will be no priestly ordinations in Winona-Rochester for the next two years. So, there is no question: We need more priests. Now, bishops and priests do indeed have a key role to play in the encouragement of vocations. What draws a young man to the priesthood is, above all, the witness of happy, healthy priests. Some years ago, the University of Chicago conducted a survey to determine which professions were the happiest. By a rather large margin, those deemed most content were members of the clergy. Moreover, a variety of surveys have demonstrated that, despite the troubles of recent years, Catholic priests report very high levels of personal satisfaction with their lives. Given these data, one recommendation I would make to my brother priests is this: Let people see it! Let them know how much joy you take in being a priest. But I believe that lay people have an even more important role to play in the cultivation of vocations. Within the Protestant context, sometimes the son of a great preacher follows in his father’s footsteps so that one minister effectively begets another. But this, for obvious reasons, can’t happen in a Catholic setting. Instead, priests, without exception, come from lay people; they come from families. The decency, prayerfulness, kindness, and encouragement of parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts, and uncles make an enormous difference in the fostering of a vocation to the priesthood. One of the most vivid memories of my childhood is of my father, kneeling in intense prayer after Communion one Sunday at St. Thomas More Parish in Troy, Michigan. I was only five or six at the time, and I considered my father the most powerful man on earth. That he was kneeling in supplication before someone more powerful shaped my religious imagination profoundly and, as you can tell, I’ve never forgotten the moment. Both of my parents loved and respected priests and made sure that we kids had steady contact with them. Trust me, their openness of spirit in regard to priests affected my vocation deeply. And please remember that non-family members can light the flame of a vocation as well. Study after study has shown that one of the most important factors in convincing a young man to enter the seminary is that a trusted friend, colleague, or elder told him that he would make a good priest. I know that there are lots of folks who harbor in their hearts the conviction that a young man should enter the seminary, for they have noticed his gifts of kindness, prayerfulness, intelligence, etc., but they have never summoned the courage or taken the time to tell him. Perhaps they’ve assumed that others have done so. But this is tragically to miss an opportunity. I would say simply this: if you have remarked virtues in a young man that would make him an effective priest, assume that the Holy Spirit has given you this insight so that you might share it with that young man. Believe me, the plainest words you speak could be seeds that will bear fruit thirty, sixty, and a hundredfold. Finally, if you feel strongly about vocations, pray for them. In the Bible, nothing of moment is ever accomplished apart from prayer. God delights in our cooperation with His grace, but the work of salvation is, at the end of the day, His. So ask Him! Might I suggest a particular intercessor in this regard? Thérèse of Lisieux, the Little Flower, said that she entered the convent “in order to save souls and especially to pray for priests.” She also said that she would spend her Heaven doing good on the earth. Let us, therefore, petition her intercession as we ask the Lord to double the number of our seminarians in the coming years.
By: Bishop Robert Barron
MoreAs a cradle Catholic, I was taught that forgiveness is one of the cherished values of Christianity, and yet I struggle to practice it. The struggle soon became a burden as I started focusing on my inability to forgive. During Confession, the priest pointed to the forgiveness of Christ: “He did not just forgive them, but he prayed for their redemption.” Jesus said: “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” This prayer of Jesus reveals an often-neglected fragment. It clearly unveils that the gaze of Jesus was not on the pain or the cruelty of the soldiers but on their lack of knowledge of the truth. Jesus picked this fragment to intercede for them. The message dawned on me that my forgiveness has to sprout from giving space to the unknown fragments of the other person and even myself. I now feel lighter and more joyful because previously, I was dealing exclusively with the known factors—the hurt that others caused, the words that they spoke, and the brokenness of hearts and relationships. Jesus has already left the gates of forgiveness wide open for me, I just have to tread on this path of humbly acknowledging the unknown fragments within myself and others. The awareness of the unknown fragments also adds layers of meaning to what Jesus means when He invites us to walk the extra mile. It occurred to me that forgiveness is a journey commencing from the act of forgiveness to an honest intercession. This moment of walking the extra mile, by praying for the good of those who have hurt me, is my walk through Gethsemane. And this is my total surrender to His will. He has lovingly called everyone to eternity and who am I to cause a barrier with my ego and resentment? Opening our hearts to unknown fragments mends our relations with one another and leads us to a deeper relationship with God, giving us and others access to His abundant peace and freedom.
By: Emily Sangeetha
MoreDoes God have preferences and favorites? My father, a first-generation Italian immigrant, had a warm, colorful, and inviting family. You’d be welcomed into their homes with double-cheeked kisses just as ever-present aromas of either espresso, garlic, focaccia, or cannoli welcomed your nose and stomach. My mother, on the other hand, had generations of thick deep multicultural roots in Kentucky. Her side of the family made the best southern apple pies, but had more distant and refined demeanors and affections. Each side of the family had its own set of behaviors and custom expectations to follow, and it was confusing to understand which way was correct. These differences and the perceived need to choose between both have been a foundational dilemma for me. It seems as though I’ve always been trying to understand the world by seeking the ultimate source of truth. Making Sense of it All Throughout life, I’ve tried to find reasoning in how and why the world, and all its parts, function together. God must have known I’d be destined to question things and be inquisitive of His creations because He made sure I was pointed in the right direction to turn to Him. The Catholic Elementary school I attended had a young wonderful nun as one of my teachers. She seemed to have the same love and curiosity of the world that God had given me. If she didn’t have all the answers, I was pretty certain she knew who did. We were taught that there was only one God and we were all made in the image and likeness of God. We’re unique, and God loves us all very much. He loved us so much that even before Adam and Eve knew the depth and ramifications of their sin, God already had the merciful plan of sending Jesus, His Son, to save us from that original sin. There was so much in that lesson for a little girl to unpack and understand. It still leaves me asking questions. However, it was the ‘image and likeness’ part of that lesson that I had to explore. Observing my family, classroom, and community, it was obvious there were vast differences in hair color, skin color, and other features. If we are all unique, yet made in the image and likeness of only ONE God, then what did He look like? Was He dark-haired like me? Or blonde like my best friend? Was His skin olive colored, that tanned deeply in the summer, like my father’s and mine, or was He fair-skinned like my Mom, who turned red and burnt easily under the hot Kentucky sun? Beautiful Varieties I grew up with variety, was comfortable with variety, and loved variety, but I wondered—did God have a preference? In Kentucky, in the 1960s, it was apparent that even if God didn’t have a preference, some people did. That was so hard for me to understand. Didn’t the young Sister tell me that God made all of us? Doesn’t that mean that He purposely made all the wonderful varieties in this world? I searched for the source of truth and sometime in my early 30s, a deep yearning to learn more about God led me straight into prayer and the Scripture. Here, I was blessed to learn that He was also looking for me. Psalm 51:6 spoke straight to my heart: “Behold, You desire truth in the innermost being, therefore teach me wisdom in my secret heart.” As time passed, God showed me there was a difference in the way He saw things versus how the world viewed things. The more I read the Bible, prayed, and asked questions, the more I came to know that God is the source of truth. “Jesus said to him, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.’” (John 14:6) How wonderful it was to finally understand that Jesus is the source of truth! However, that was not all! God was the teacher now, and He wanted to make sure I understood the lesson. “Again Jesus spoke to them, saying: I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.’” (John 8:12) I had to read it again…Jesus said: ”I am the light of the world…” My brain began to speed up, gears began to engage, and things began to fall into place. My childhood science lessons taught me that ‘light is the source of all colors.’ Therefore, if Jesus is light, then He encompasses all the colors; all colors of the human race. That nagging childhood question was finally answered. What Color is God? Quite simply, He is light. We are made in His image and likeness, and He has no preference for color because He is ALL color! All His colors are in us, and all our colors are in Him. We are all God’s children, and we are to “live as children of light” (Ephesians 5:8). So, why is the world so sensitive about the many wonderful colors of human skin? God doesn’t prefer one color to another, so why should we? God loves us and all the variety of colors that He made us. It is quite simple, we are called to reflect Him. We are called to bring His light into the world. In other words, we are called to bring God’s presence into the world that doesn’t see things as God wants it to see things. He needs and wants all our varieties to complete His image. Let’s try to reflect Him in this world by being the light we are created from and for. As God’s children whom He loves, let us begin to appreciate all His images as part of the ONE God that made us.
By: Teresa Ann Weider
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