Lent starts next Wednesday—do you feel ready for it? Maybe you have your Lenten battle plan prepared and are feeling ready to crush your spiritual and penitential goals this Lenten season. Or maybe you are more like me—you’ve given it some thought but haven’t come up with much yet, and you might just pick something, anything, to do in order to make the liturgical season feel different from the rest of the year.
Either way, I think it’s helpful to take a step back and assess what we plan to undertake for Lent, why we are choosing those things, and how to best go about deepening our relationship with God and embracing the penitential nature of the season. The Church in her wisdom has already given us guideposts for how to structure our spiritual renewal during this season: Lent is known as the liturgical season for “prayer, fasting, and almsgiving.” If we aren’t feeling prepared to dive into Lenten penances, it can be tempting to ask what others are doing and just follow them or commit to doing something that seems appropriate for the season. But as we enter this last week of Ordinary Time before Lent begins, I encourage you to spend time in prayer and quiet reflection to really focus on those areas that you need to work on to grow closer to God and to be a more faithful follower of Christ. Here are some ideas for discerning what to undertake this Lenten season: Prayer Prayer is probably the easiest to take on when deciding what spiritual practice to do for Lent with the intention of continuing afterward. For example, there are “classic” Lenten observances you can easily plug into, like the Stations of Cross, that you can commit to praying regularly. I try to choose my Lenten prayer regimen based on what has been on my heart or what I have felt drawn toward but have yet to act upon. For example, maybe you feel that you don’t know the Bible as well as you would like to. You can check out the daily readings here, or listen to or watch a short reflection on them. Or you can commit to praying the rosary several times a week (or daily), using a Scriptural rosary or iconography to help you focus. Fasting Before I matured in my faith, I thought that “fasting” essentially meant: “One full meal, two small snacks, get through Ash Wednesday and Good Friday and then you don’t have to be hungry during the day for another year!.” Only as a young adult did I begin to understand that we are not called to only fast from food, but also from things that are holding us back from God. I used to fast from chocolates or desserts as my Lenten penance almost every year, whether I had been indulging in them too much or not. Once I tried to fast all of Holy Week because that seemed like the kind of thing that hardcore Catholics would do. Neither of these penances bore much fruit for me because I hadn’t chosen to fast from things that were really impeding my vocation as a follower of Christ. Choosing what to fast from for Lent is probably the most difficult thing for us to choose wisely because it involves serious reflection on our own faults and weaknesses. Do you have a negative way of thinking about certain people because they have wounded you? Do you turn to food as a source of comfort instead of praying? Do you indulge in inappropriate books, movies, or TV shows? Do you spend too much time on your smartphone games, Facebook, or Instagram mindlessly scrolling and occupying your time? Think about some things that might be hindering the deepening of your spiritual life and try fasting from one this Lenten season. Almsgiving Many parishes and dioceses use Lent as a time for special appeals and almsgiving opportunities. I recently came across this idea from a friend: during the season of Lent, she and her family cut back on unnecessary expenditures (like Starbucks or junk food) and donate that money to a local charity that is of particular importance to their family. Others choose Lent as a time to increase their regular weekly or monthly offerings to their parish, and then maintain that new amount for the rest of the year. Maybe you don’t have a lot of expendable income—then perhaps you could donate a few canned or dried foods to your parish’s food pantry or find another way to donate your time or your talents to your parish or local community. In the past few years, I have taken to limiting myself to working on one or two specific things for each of these categories of Lenten penance—things that will help me grow closer to God and that I can see myself continuing long after Eastertide is over. I started doing this after a particularly ambitious Lent during which I had a multi-item, handwritten list of things I was going to do—none of which I maintained past the first two weeks because I was completely overwhelmed and burned myself out. When we reach too high, too fast, we can end up setting ourselves up for failure and not making any progress at all! I encourage you to try to focus on things that are realistic not only during the season of Lent, but that you may also incorporate into your life permanently. For resources to prepare you for the Lenten season, please click here.
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Recently, my life has changed a lot. I had my first child, Vincent Scott Pierno, on January 31st, and he is the greatest joy I’ve ever known. I never knew that becoming a mother could fulfill my life in the ways it has, and I thank God each day for the happiness, tears, and everything in between that he has brought into my life. As a family, we’ve also started house-hunting and looking for a place to settle within this busy and chaotic Washington, DC area. My in-laws will be moving in with us, and although they’ve already been an amazing help with the newborn, it’s another change to our lifestyle. Finding joy in these changes has been challenging at times, but not impossible through the grace of God. I invite you to join me in reflecting on change in our lives and ways to find joy during times of trial and tribulation. One way to work through life’s changes is through Scripture. There are so many examples we can look to that give us strength and remind us of the goodness in change. One is Philippians 4:6-7, which says, “Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” This passage gives me hope. It can be anxiety-provoking to go through so many changes all at once, but Christ gives us strength and we can do all things with his help. Another verse from Joshua 1:9 that speaks of courage during a hectic time is: “I command you: be strong and steadfast! Do not fear nor be dismayed, for the LORD, your God, is with you wherever you go.” In Scripture, we look at examples of people who have also found change difficult and needed support from God. This reliance is the definition of faith: trust and dependence on God through all things, even when the end is not in sight. Another way to work through life’s changes is through prayer. In prayer we can develop a closer relationship with God, and in this dialogue find joy in knowing Christ more deeply. Prayer can be done in many ways: silently, out loud, in reflection, through journaling, and even through participating in the Mass regularly. Since prayer is “both personal and communal,” we can encounter Christ however we feel most comfortable. I’ve found that the most important part of this prayer is not to always ask God for things, but to offer thanksgiving and to listen. The “listening” is the hardest to do. The chaos of a busy and a constantly changing life makes it even more difficult during challenging periods to take time and listen to God. However, it is in those hard times that we can deepen our relationship with Him. The final way I’d really like to impart is by keeping track of and celebrating joy. In this age of social media and 24/7 news updates, it’s easy to see so much negativity all around us. People gossip about others, worry about things that have nothing to do with them, troll people online for their own enjoyment, and trash talk things that people don’t need to even have an opinion about. This negativity can seep into our daily lives and we can get lost in it. I invite you instead to be a whirl of positivity. As Catholics, we are called to action by being missionaries in the world. St. Vincent Pallotti suggests this in his teachings, and brilliantly states this saying, “Remember that the Christian life is one of action; not of speech and daydreams. Let there be few words and many deeds, and let them be done well.” I find his words timeless. The deeds that Pallotti refers to can be simple ones, such as celebrating anything good that comes into our lives by posting it on social media or encouraging joy in the lives of others. We could truly create small havens of joy for people to encounter by simply finding the joy that already exists. Share this joy and gratitude with at least one person, whether in-person or online. Some examples from my life include sharing in my son’s new life and looking for the good in being home with him rather than the stress. Even something as easy as a smile could change someone’s day. I invite you to use these hashtags when you post about your joys as we get through this life together in Christian spirit! #joyinChristianaction #findingjoyineverything #discoverjoyfulmoments I’m blessed to be a part of a family which includes three different vocations: marriage, religious life, and the discernment of the priesthood. The annual March for Life, which occurred this year on January 24th, provided my wife and me an opportunity to host not only her sister who joined a religious order, but also several members of the religious community. As they are part of a semi-contemplative order, the sisters made the most of their time in DC touring the city, visiting historic and spiritual sites, and learning in museums—all while sharing a public witness to their vocation. As their hosts, my wife and I had a unique vantage point which allowed us to see the reactions of passersby, both the bewildered and the curious, who are not accustomed to seeing women religious in public. The sisters are used to it, and more importantly, realize they have an opportunity to evangelize and share with others who they are and what their vocation is. Often a chat or introductions will be made, prayer cards will be given, and some pictures are taken (whether stealthily or outright). I noticed the sisters made the most of these moments, probably because they realize they can bring anyone they meet into an encounter with the Lord. The sisters and their joy witness to God’s fidelity in ways often unknown. At the Vigil Mass for Life at the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, the sisters were just a few of the many women religious present. Though each order’s habits are different, I noticed many pilgrims came up to the sisters after the Mass to inquire about their order and their distinct purple habits. The same happened at the March for Life the next day: many people simply took photos of or with the sisters, others exchanged pleasantries, memories, and prayer cards, and others ran up to the sisters and thanked them for their vocations or wanted to learn more about the order. Returning home with them across town that afternoon, however, we left the massive crowds who shared our values and encountered the daily commuters of DC. I was amused to watch them look up in surprise from their smartphone screens. The sisters would happily engage with their fellow passengers, chat about religious life, and in one case, ask a practicing Hindu about their bindi, or a vermilion mark. Similar scenes occurred over the weekend. but it wasn’t all like a celebrity sighting: on more than one occasion, the sisters would go up to a homeless or mentally-ill person and, after chatting a bit about Jesus and Mary, share a miraculous medal and holy card to remind them about faith and invite them to trust in God. These were people used to being passed by on the sidewalk each day as they begged for food or for someone to listen to and be with them. Imagine the shock they experienced when “strangely dressed” women were suddenly engaging with them and treating them with respect and compassion! There is no way of knowing just how God may have used the sisters as a means of planting the seeds of faith in various encounters. Certainly the unusualness of the situation might shake someone out of their complacency and eventually cause them to recall a positive memory of faith from youth or simply remember consecrated persons live and act in the world as a beautiful witness to… something. That something may lead to a renewed quest for truth or personal peace. In God’s good time, this yearning may be a motivation to reconnect with God and embrace a life of faith and holiness. But all of us, especially laypeople, are similarly called to holiness by virtue of our baptism in Christ Jesus. We need not depend on wearing a religious habit to draw others into an encounter with the Lord, but can invite others in our schools, workplaces, social gatherings, and homes to participate in religious practices such as grace before meals, going on a pilgrimage to a holy site, reading books by the saints, or simply starting a meaningful conversation. The options for spiritual accompaniment are endless. Given time, prayer, and trust in the Lord’s will, each of us can instill the smallest seed of faith which can grow into a towering wonder. For more resources on Vocational Discernment, please click here. To learn more about spiritual accompaniment, please click here. The lives of the Irish saints have been a wonderful inspiration in my life and faith journey. As I am a descendant of Irish immigrants to America, the hagiographies of saints like Patrick, Columba, and Brigid contain threads of Celtic culture and history that help me to understand Ireland better. These stories also help me as I seek God in daily life and in my relationships with others. Just a few days ago, the Church celebrated the Feast of St. Brigid of Kildare. Along with St. Patrick and St. Columba, St. Brigid is considered a patron saint of Ireland. Born in the 5th century, much of her life is detailed only in myth and legend. However, in later biographies, it is agreed that Brigid was born around 450 A.D. to a Christian woman and slave named Broicsech, who herself was baptized by St. Patrick. Brigid was a generous girl who performed deeds of charity at an early age. She was “veiled,” or accepted into religious life, and later became abbess. From this point on, the miracles attributed to Brigid are fantastic and too numerous to list here. The most well-known story may be that of Brigid’s cloak. According to legend, Brigid once approached the King of Leinster requesting land on which to build her monastery. When the miserly king refused, Brigid asked, “Give me as much land as my cloak will cover.” Laughing at the small cloak in her arms, the king agreed. Yet Brigid asked four of her helpers to pull the cloak in opposite directions. As the helpers ran north, south, east and west, the cloak grew and grew until it covered many acres, and the king pleaded with her to stop. He agreed to donate adequate land, on which was built Brigid’s famous monastery at Kildare. The king later converted to Christianity. For many years—pre-dating Christianity—a sacred fire that was kept by local priestesses had been burning in Kildare. Brigid continued this custom of keeping a fire alight (now representing the new light of Christianity) as she established what is considered the first monastery for women in Ireland. Incredibly, Brigid’s fire burned continuously into the 16th century! Brigid also founded a monastery for men around the same time. As a prototype for women of leadership in the faith, “Brigid held a unique position in the Irish Church and in the society of her day. As Abbess, she presided over the local Church of Kildare and was leader of a double monastery for men and women” (The Brigidine Sisters). Brigid died on February 1st, 525 A.D., which we celebrate now as her feast day. Brigid’s Day is associated with many customs in Ireland and throughout the world, including candle-lit pilgrimages and the weaving of Brigid’s Crosses (instructions on how to make your own Brigid’s Cross here). Brigid’s feast day aligns with Imbolc, the ancient pagan festival marking the beginnings of the return of spring – another example of her legacy bridging the gap between the old world and the new. Brigid is remembered today as a woman of contemplation and action, devoted to serving others and bringing an end to strife and conflict. She is also held as a model for creative co-operation with God, and is a favored saint of many artists, musicians, and writers. Brigid lived and died nearly 1500 years ago, yet I am confident that the example of her life has never been more relevant. Just like Brigid’s time, this century we live in calls for dynamic conflict resolution skills and creative community-building efforts. Like Brigid, we too must protect and care for the vulnerable among us. And for a Church seeking better ways to engage and accompany young people regarding discernment and faith, the model of a young woman and entrepreneurial leader like Brigid offers clear insight for how to engage and empower the next generation. Spiritual accompaniment has been discussed greatly today within the Church and is an important theme of Pope Francis’ papacy. While accompaniment is manifested throughout the Old Testament and in Christ’s ministry, it is important for the Church to consider how best to implement it in modern times. What does accompaniment look like today? How do we best accompany others along their spiritual journey in deepening their relationship with Jesus Christ? The Art of Accompaniment: Theological, Spiritual, and Practical Elements of Building a More Relational Church, a Catholic Apostolate Center resource developed by Colleen Campbell and Thomas Carani, assists in the growth of true accompaniment within the Church today. Below are ten quotes from The Art of Accompaniment that summarize some of the major points of this important resource in order to introduce you to accompaniment and its role for Christians today. 1. “Since the creation of human beings, God has communicated his love through a relationship with humanity…The Old and New Testament reveal the Trinitarian God to be a God who accompanies.” God models accompaniment for humanity in his self-revelation and relationship with his people throughout salvation history. After the Fall, God revealed himself in his various relationships with important figures such as Abraham and Moses in the Old Testament, culminating in the sending of his Son, Jesus Christ, for the salvation of the world. God Himself is the first model of accompaniment. We look to His example in order to understand and implement accompaniment in the Church today. 2. “Spiritual accompaniment is the apostolate of intentional relationship that is oriented toward a definitive direction of growth in holiness and transformation in the Person of Christ.” Colleen and Tom define accompaniment succinctly: spiritual accompaniment does not happen by accident, but is the result of an intentional decision made by two people. The goal of spiritual accompaniment is a deepening in one’s personal relationship with Jesus Christ and in personal holiness that transforms both the mentor and the person being accompanied, as well as those they encounter. 3. “To remain committed to this deliberate choice of discipleship, a mentor is an active participant in their own spiritual formation, deliberately choosing the path of discipleship as their everyday way of life.” A mentor never ceases to pursue holiness, personal development, and spiritual formation. These are life-long endeavors to which the mentor and the person being accompanied dedicate themselves. 4. “Listening is a crucial practice of the mentor because it not only creates space for openness between mentor and the one accompanied, but also makes room for an awareness of the presence and action of God.” An important part of the spiritual life that Pope Francis has emphasized is the art of listening. We must be silent in order to hear the voice of God and the promptings of the Holy Spirit. The ability to listen well is also incredibly important to the art of accompaniment. When a mentor is adept in the art of listening, he or she affirms the dignity of the person being accompanied and humbly leaves room for the voice of God to be heard and acknowledged. 5. “Discernment is a supernatural gift of the Holy Spirit and useful in coming to identify the movements and actions of God in daily life.” Both the mentor and person being accompanied must grow in their ability to discern the work of God and the presence of the Holy Spirit. While there are many resources within the Church that help form a person in their understanding of discernment, it is ultimately a gift of the Holy Spirit. By praying for clarity, understanding, and wisdom, and by approaching the accompanying relationship in a posture of humility, both the mentor and person being accompanied create an environment in which the actions of God are received and acted upon. Ongoing discernment is crucial to spiritual accompaniment. 6. "Mentors are formed by the community as a result of encountering diverse groups of people, listening to different perspectives, seeking guidance from others, and worshipping and seeking Christ amongst the family of the children of God." The spiritual life does not and cannot exist in a vacuum; the same is true with accompaniment. Both the mentor and person being accompanied are formed by their parishes and communities. The beauty of our relational existence is that our communities of faith are comprised of all sorts of people. This diversity within our parishes enriches each member of the Body of Christ and deepens compassion, understanding, and a spirit of inclusion that helps the mentor better accompany another person. 7. "As they share the journey of the Christian life with the one accompanied, the mentor evangelizes the accompanied by fostering an encounter with Christ in their daily life, drawing connections between the Gospel message and their everyday experiences, and encouraging them toward ongoing conversion to Christ through the relationship of accompaniment." An important aspect of accompaniment is that it is a mutual journey towards Christ. Accompaniment does not happen only in Church settings and does not only address topics of faith—it encompasses an entire life. Our faith life also does not occur in a vacuum, but should impact and inform every aspect of our existence. As a result, accompaniment helps both the mentor and the one being accompanied to draw connections between the Gospel and everyday life. 8. "Those accompanied are open to formation and display their willingness to be formed by authentically seeking holiness, collaborating with their mentor, remaining humble in the midst of difficulty, and giving thought and prayer to challenges or new ideas…they must seek faith formation through study, catechetical ministry through parishes or Catholic institutions, and their own personal learning." Humility is a crucial component of an accompanying relationship—especially for the one being accompanied. The person being accompanied acknowledges the need to walk alongside a mentor and to be formed by them in order to grow in holiness and a relationship with Christ. Therefore, the mentor is an authority figure that respectfully and lovingly informs and collaborates with the one being accompanied, as well as with the Holy Spirit. Furthermore, the one accompanied also seeks personal formation in other trusted places. 9. "In the relationship of accompaniment, the marginalized are provided a space in which they can come to deeply know the love of Jesus Christ through friendship, guidance, and authenticity with a mentor." No one is exempt from an accompanying relationship—it is an important part of the spiritual life that all are invited to. A relationship of accompaniment results in the greatest treasure on earth: friendship with and love of Jesus Christ. A mentor is more than an authority figure. He or she is a friend, helper, and guide who affirms a person’s dignity and walks alongside another to build up the Body of Christ. 10. "The inspiration and model for the apostolate of accompaniment is Mary…In Mary, the Church has a model and intercessor for the apostolate of accompaniment." We cannot have a vibrant and lasting life of faith and thriving relationship with Christ without looking to and having a relationship with His Mother, Mary. The Blessed Virgin Mary always leads us closer to her Son. By looking to her and seeking her guidance and intercession, we can be sure that our efforts to accompany and be accompanied will bear much fruit. To learn more about The Art of Accompaniment and order your copy today, please click here. “Seek God and you will find God. Seek God in all things and you will find God in all things. Seek God always and you will find God always.” – St. Vincent Pallotti
Do we live our lives seeking God or realize that God is seeking us? God is indeed seeking us. In fact, we have been found in our Baptism. We enter into the mission of the Son who was sent by the Eternal Father into the world to save us. We are co-responsible for this mission and are in “holy cooperation” with the Most Blessed Trinity. Therefore, we are sent by Christ as his apostles or missionary disciples into the Church and the world to revive faith and rekindle charity. We accompany other seekers in becoming found in Christ and through his Church. Today is the 170th anniversary of the death of St. Vincent Pallotti. It is also his feast day. He believed, taught, and lived the ideals of accompaniment, co-responsibility, and holy cooperation mentioned above. His foundation, the “Union of Catholic Apostolate, a gift of the Holy Spirit, is a communion of the faithful who, united with God and with one another in accordance with the charism of St. Vincent Pallotti, promote the co-responsibility of all the baptized to revive faith and rekindle charity in the Church and in the world, and to bring all to unity in Christ” (General Statutes, 1). This means that lay people, those in consecrated life, and clergy are in collaboration with one another, not only in the Union, but also in the Church and with those of good will in the world. Each person has a role. Each person is responsible. Each person shares in the mission of the Church in spreading the Gospel. Pope Francis recently wrote about this shared mission in his Apostolic Exhortation, Christus Vivit. He was writing about ministry with young people, but these words can be extended to all the baptized. “Youth ministry has to be synodal; it should involve a ‘journeying together’ that values ‘the charisms that the Spirit bestows in accordance with the vocation and role of each of the Church’s members, through a process of co-responsibility... Motivated by this spirit, we can move towards a participatory and co-responsible Church, one capable of appreciating its own rich variety, gratefully accepting the contributions of the lay faithful, including young people and women, consecrated persons, as well as groups, associations and movements. No one should be excluded or exclude themselves’” (Christus Vivit, 206). For co-responsibility to be truly a lived reality there is much more work to be done. St. Vincent Pallotti was visionary and prophetic in his understanding, but the work was unfinished. Let us not wait. Instead, let us "remember that the Christian life is one of action; not of speech and daydreams. Let there be few words and many deeds and let them be done well." Blessed feast day of St. Vincent Pallotti! May the Charity of Christ urge us on! I lead the Catholic Volunteer Network (CVN) – but am not Catholic. My journey to this unique place has not been overnight or accidental. It comes from years of commitment to unity.
CVN is the leading faith-based service organization fostering full-time, faith-based lay mission service. Our membership consists of 155 Christian volunteer programs serving throughout the U.S. and in over 100 countries. In any given year, up to twenty percent of our programs may be identified as Protestant. In addition, volunteers who serve in CVN programs range from cradle-Catholics to spiritual seekers. Recently, the CVN Board of Directors affirmed the importance of witnessing to our identity as Catholic and ecumenical. This approach works because, to a great degree, both CVN programs and volunteers respect each other’s identities and goals. As they learn about each other via extensive application processes, a relationship of understanding and trust begins. The result is clarity about needs and expectations, and in many cases a willingness to engage with “the other” for a significant amount of time. When a year-long volunteer community is ecumenical, learning that enhances and transcends that experience can transpire. CVN thinks that is good—that faith and mission throughout life in a complicated world requires an openness to understand other approaches to faith, community, and service. Openness to different experiences put me on a path of fostering Christian unity. Therefore, when a role with CVN became a possibility, I was drawn to it not despite it being Catholic – but because it is Catholic. I wanted to be part of a network discerning how a commitment to Jesus Christ unites us and enhances witness to his Gospel in the world. But I did not get to that place without a mixture of providence and intention. Years ago, I was the Director of Public Policy for Call to Renewal (CTR), a diverse network of national churches and faith-based organizations united to overcome poverty. CTR’s vision was that Christians from across the theological spectrum working together could inspire other Christians to foster relationships across denominational affiliations, as well as inspire political leaders to work together across the aisle. It was an attempt to break down the divides created by labels such as liberal and conservative, and to honor a range of anti-poverty strategies often considered to be at odds with each other (e.g. strengthening families and supporting government programs). Members of CTR included Protestants, Evangelicals, Catholics, Peace Churches, and more. National leaders from these churches agreed that progress could be made to reduce domestic poverty if they chose not to allow theological and doctrinal differences on other matters to prevent collaboration. Because of this, many Christian leaders met counterparts for the first time and nurtured relationships grounded in openness and a willingness to learn. Many found a new respect for different approaches to faith, as well as different views on how to reduce poverty. That experience and others broadened my theological and political perspectives. Since then, I have sought to build relationships and bridges. I still have convictions and disagree with others, but am less likely to judge quickly or to shut doors. I am more likely to be curious about how God wants me and others to engage despite differences. Sometimes unity means affirming a shared connection to Christ, getting to know another, and seeing where that leads. Sometimes it is a strategic partnership to pursue change. I just try to witness to what I believe – and pray God can act through me and others. I pray that you, too, find special ways of witnessing to the strength of Christian unity. I pray that openness and experience will transform you. The world needs our example. To learn more about Christian unity, please click here. To learn more about faith-based service opportunities with the Catholic Volunteer Network, please click here. As we celebrate the Nativity of our Lord Jesus Christ at Christmas, I find myself grateful that the Church has established the liturgical calendar in such a way as to help shake us out of our spiritual complacency. The high-points of the Church year—and the larger Christian experience— are referenced so much in our Faith that we may sometimes find ourselves on spiritual autopilot. Before we know it, we might find that solemnities are immediately upon us (or past us), and we feel that we could have benefited from more spiritual preparation. This year, I was looking for a clear and direct theme I could really focus on as Christmas approached. I came across some writings of Venerable Servant of God Fulton Sheen that called to mind certain details of Scripture that my eyes (and spiritual life) might typically gloss over. Recalling the helpless innocence of the Christ-child ready to be born of Mary, Sheen related Mary and Joseph’s plight in searching for late-night shelter in Bethlehem to the lack of hearts open to God which can offer the King of Kings and Lord of Lords a place to dwell and reign:
[W]hen finally the scrolls of history are completed down to the last word of time, the saddest lines of all will be: ‘There was no room in the inn.’ The inn was the gathering place of public opinion, the focal point of the world’s moods, the rendezvous of the worldly, the rallying place of the popular and the successful. But there’s no room in the place where the world gathers. The stable is the place for outcasts, the ignored, and the forgotten… The lesson is: divinity is always where you least expect to find it. So the Son of God-Made-Man is invited to enter into His own world through a back door.[1] With all the seasonal emphasis on gifts and personal generosity, I am especially touched by that first line and the reality that there was no room made available for the arrival of the long-awaited Son of God. How often do we hear calls to be watchful and ready for the Second Coming of Christ; that is, to be repentant of sin and committed to pursuing holiness? This preparation is what the first part of the Advent season is all about. When we are called before the Final Judgement seat of the Most High, and God Himself shows us what we did or did not do for Him[2] in our earthly encounters with the people in our lives, will we say that it was too difficult or inconvenient to take up what we knew was expected of us? All of the baptized are called to be missionary disciples—people who spread the joy of the Gospel by their very lives. We can bring others into an encounter with the Living God—or at least instill a sense of hope, dignity, and love in those who are in need—in the workplace, at home, in our neighborhoods, in our parishes, and within our families. In doing so, we make room in the inn of our hearts for the Christ-child. Without Christ present in our hearts and at the core of our being, we will find ourselves serving a different master—be it vices, worldly pleasures, fleeting successes or honors, or other vanities. Just as the innkeepers of Bethlehem two-thousand years ago declined to open their doors to the Holy Family, so too do each of us have the choice either to be seduced by the empty promises of the world or to pursue a life of holiness and of speaking the Truth among the doubtful, suspicious, hateful, or unrepentant. This Christmas season, let us allow Christ into our lives in order to bring him to others. Let us preach the Gospel with our lives and seek to always make room for him in the inn of our hearts. Christmas is a time for celebration! We rejoice that the Lord God Himself took on human nature and was born as a helpless Child into the world He created in order to free us from sin and death and invite us to live with Him forever. The occasion of Christmas encourages each of us to be a welcoming soul to the Lord rather than one who closed their doors to the Holy Family that holy night: Joy to the world, the Lord is come! Let earth receive her King! Let every heart prepare Him room. And let it begin with me. Amen. [1] Sheen, Fulton. “Life of Christ” (1954). [2] cf. Matthew 25:40. 12/19/2019 Look Up, Set Out, and Give: Learning from Mary, the Magi, and the Shepherds this Advent SeasonRead Now“The Virgin today brings into the world the Eternal / And the earth offers a cave to the Inaccessible. / The angels and shepherds praise him / And the magi advance with the star, / For you are born for us, Little Child, God eternal!” (CCC525) The quote from the Catechism above references three key players I want to reflect upon at the beginning of this Advent season: Our Lady, the magi, and the shepherds. Today, as we think about the meaning of waiting and watching, upon preparing for Christmas and for the return of the Lord, we can look to these three examples to show us how to look up, set out, and give. First: It’s important to start off with an understanding of Advent as a liturgical time of waiting and preparation. I’ve often heard that God has three responses to our prayers: yes, no, or wait—wait being our least favorite of the three. “Wait” seems so indefinite. With a yes or no response, you know, for better or worse, one way or another, what your parameters are. But “wait” requires faith, trust, humility. It requires not knowing exactly when, exactly how, or exactly if. And that’s one lesson this season can impart: waiting well, waiting in hope. During Advent, we recall the waiting of the world for the birth of the Messiah. The greatest gift from God the Father, the gift of his Son, is coming to us. And in this world which has experienced his coming, we also wait for him to come again. Each of us awaits something. Perhaps we await a promotion. The completion of a degree. Maybe we long for a spouse or a child. Physical or emotional healing. The answer to our vocational discernment. In this time of waiting, we are like the Israelites wandering in the desert in pursuit of the Promised Land. It’s there--the Promised Land is there. God is faithful and keeps his promises. But sometimes, we have to wait. Waiting practically forces us to surrender control and hand everything over to God. It’s a daily practice in humility and faith. It acknowledges that we are not in control and challenges us to trust in the goodness of the One who is. Therefore, waiting has a purpose, an end: God Himself. And, as with the Israelites in the desert sustained by the descent of manna from heaven, we are fed daily by God himself IF we allow ourselves to be. This means speaking and listening to God in prayer. It means collecting the manna from above, his grace, DAILY. And this brings us to our first point about the Advent season: we need to look up and see. Mary knew what it meant to look up in prayer. She was so receptive to the word of God that she conceived it through the power of the Holy Spirit. She was looking up in prayer when the Angel Gabriel announced the Good News of the Messiah. Her response? “Let it be done unto me according to your word.” These were the words of trust, surrender, and peace--followed by action—the second of our themes today. She looked up and set out in order to give. Immediately after the Annunciation, we read about her going out to help her cousin Elizabeth. As someone who has experienced the first trimester of pregnancy twice now, I can tell you the last thing I’m thinking about during that time is helping or serving others. I’m usually passed out somewhere trying not to drool. But Mary has looked up, set out, and given. She was so receptive to God’s word that she was able to fully encounter his message through the Angel Gabriel. Her reception of Christ caused her to set out in haste to see Elizabeth. And finally, to give and serve another by bringing Christ into that home and modeling sacrificial love. Mary is the perfect example of waiting and being guided by God. In Scripture, she is described as “pondering things in her heart”—waiting for God to reveal his will and meditating on his work throughout her life. But she is not one who sits on the sideline and fails to engage. She is a contemplative in action—one who treasures the word of God within her (even literally) and yet immediately goes out to Elizabeth in her time of need. Mary brings Jesus to others, from the moment of his conception, wherever she goes and instructs us to “do whatever he tells you,” as at the wedding feast in Cana. We turn to Mary during this season of Advent because she is an expert at faithful waiting that leads to Christ. So I invite you as we continue our Advent journey to start by spending time with the Blessed Virgin Mary. Re-read the account of the Annunciation and Visitation in Scripture. Ask her help in waiting—faithfully, hopefully, humbly. And invite her to accompany, guide, and prepare you to receive Christ. She always leads others to her Son. In addition to the example of Mary, the magi can also teach us what it means to wait in hopeful anticipation: to look up and see the star, To set out, To give freely. The magi, though Gentiles, were not complacent, but so observant that they were able to recognize God’s sign: the star. As Pope Francis said, “The Magi were not content with just getting by, with keeping afloat. They understood that to truly live, we need a lofty goal and we need to keep looking up.” What keeps us this Advent from looking up and seeing the star? Are we busy scrolling through our social media feeds, binging on the latest Netflix series, working late hours at the office, or anxious about the future? Are we paralyzed by grief, bitterness, anger or fear? The magi were vigilant, ready to go when the time came. And their hearts were receptive, disposed to the signs of the times. Like Mary, they too set out on a journey which would lead them to Christ himself. This journey required effort, planning, and sacrifice. They looked up, set out, and finally, they gave: bearing costly gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. They met the generosity of God by reciprocating generosity. As Pope Francis has also noted, “To give freely, for the Lord’s sake, without expecting anything in return: this is the sure sign that we have found Jesus.” Finally, we can also look to the example of the shepherds. Pope Francis says, “They were the first because they were among the last, the outcast. And they were the first because they were awake, keeping watch in the night, guarding their flocks.” The shepherds were looking up. After receiving the good news from the angel of the Lord, they go in haste to encounter Christ. And afterwards, they return glorifying and praising God. In each of these examples, we encounter people who are looking up, setting out, and giving. Mary sets out and gives her time and energy to serve her cousin Elizabeth. The magi set out and give gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. The shepherds set out and give Christ their adoration and praise. Will we keep watch in the night alongside the shepherds or are we asleep with the rest of crowded Bethlehem, too distracted by our daily lives and concerns to notice the light of the star beaming down on the light of the world? As we await God’s response in our lives, do we grumble in the desert like the Israelites? Do we take things into our own hands and craft a golden calf? Or do we say to the Lord, “Let it be done unto me according to your word?” This season, will we set out in haste to give our hearts to the Lord and our hands to serve those in need? Perhaps what’s holding us back from entering into the Advent season is something more than distraction, ignorance, or noise. We may hesitate to meet this Christ-child because we feel as the shepherds most likely did, utterly unworthy. We wear the rags of sin, the stench of humanity. Maybe we feel like the little drummer boy in the popular song who says, “I have no gift to bring that’s fit to give a king.” In his humility, the Lord entered into the most vulnerable of human states: infancy. He chose to become little in order to demonstrate that all are able and invited to approach him. As Pope Francis also reminds us, “Jesus allows himself to be found by those who seek him, but to find him we need to get up and go.” So let’s get up and go. There is still time to look for the star, to set out, to give. I invite you to draw close to Mary, look to the example of the magi, spend time with the shepherds. In looking for Christ, encountering him, and serving others, we find Christ born also in our hearts. Only then, as the Catechism says, “when Christ is formed in us will the mystery of Christmas be fulfilled” (CCC526). Let us pray, “I want to come to Bethlehem, Lord, because there you await me. I want to realize that you, lying in a manger, are the bread of my life. I need the tender fragrance of your love so that I, in turn, can be bread broken for the world. Take me upon your shoulders, Good Shepherd; loved by you, I will be able to love my brothers and sisters and to take them by the hand. Then it will be Christmas, when I can say to you: “Lord you know everything; you know that I love you” (cf. Jn 21:17)." -Pope Francis “At the school of Mary, we learn that her life is marked not by protagonism but by the capacity to enable others to be protagonists. She offers courage, teaches people to speak, and above all encourages people to live the boldness of faith and hope. In this way she becomes the transparency of the Lord’s face who shows his power by inviting and calling people to participate in building up his living temple.” – Pope Francis, Homily on the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, 2018
Such a strange thing Christ has done! He has left his mission to the baptized until he comes again in glory at the end of time. This is the part of Advent waiting that we often do not dwell on. The first half of Advent is very much focused, though, on this reality. Our waiting is not passive, but very active. We are protagonists who are called to boldly witness Christ in our lives. Bold witness in the way of Our Lady of Guadalupe, who encouraged St. Juan Diego to go forth to build not simply a physical temple in the Lord, but one that is living. In a time of needed renewal within the Church, we turn to the Blessed Virgin Mary to be with us, but also to give us example. She did not focus on the reality of the change in her life when she heard the message of the Angel Gabriel. Instead, she rose and went “in haste” to her cousin Elizabeth to rejoice and be in solidarity with her. Elizabeth’s son, St. John the Baptist, later went forth to prepare others for the coming of the Messiah through conversion of hearts and minds to the Lord. We, too, are meant to do the same. We cannot sit back and wait for others, but need to go forth with urgency, in haste, “inviting and calling people to participate in building up his living temple.” This inviting and calling that enables “others to be protagonists” has a name – co-responsibility. It is co-responsibility for the mission of Christ and his Church. Pope Francis invites us to “move towards a participatory and co-responsible Church, one capable of appreciating its own rich variety, gratefully accepting the contributions of the lay faithful, including young people and women, consecrated persons, as well as groups, associations and movements. No one should be excluded or exclude themselves” (Christus Vivit, 206). Therefore, may our Advent waiting not be passive, but very active in our bold witness of Emmanuel, King of the Nations and Prince of Peace! Our Lady of Guadalupe, pray for us. May the Charity of Christ urge us on! Missionaries around the world were excited on October 22, 2017 when Pope Francis called for an Extraordinary Missionary Month in October 2019. The fruit of that month lacks luster, but the seeds are heavy with promise. Some of us were grieved by the lack of attention given to mission, hoping that the Church would give it more time and energy. Mission always leads to a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. The beauty and power of mission is so often seen in the lives of the saints. Missionaries themselves know they need to expand and deepen their own human, spiritual, intellectual and pastoral formation in order to address the hopes and dreams, the griefs and anxieties of every human being. We hoped the people of God would be generous with their spiritual and financial support of mission. Considerable efforts were made by Mission Directors from around the country to lift-up mission within the local church. There were some wonderful celebrations – remembering the missionary roots of the diocese, sharing the missionary story, promoting all the ways the faithful are engaged in mission. Regrettably, we are not always aware of how our faith stems from the faithful, and often heroic, efforts of missionaries who witness the Gospel in our hometown. Some learned new things about mission they did not know before, particularly the lives of saints who embodied the missionary spirit. Perhaps the story of Sr. Dorothy Stang, S.N.D de Namur, who taught catechism and justice to the indigenous people of the Amazon, and the stories of many others moved lay people to learn more about these missionaries and the importance of the Amazon for our common home. There were efforts to deepen and expand the formation of missionaries – a few conferences, some webinars. USCMA focused on reconciliation as an aspect of mission and explored the missionary task of reconciliation among those who suffer from racism in America and the spirituality needed to sustain the mission and ministry of reconciliation. Roger Schroeder defines mission as “proclaiming, serving, and witnessing to God’s reign of love, salvation and justice.” Sometimes “evangelization” replaces the word mission. Too often, evangelization is understood in very narrow terms – as the verbal proclamation of the Gospel. As Catholics, we know in our bones that words – even very good words expertly crafted and amazingly articulated – are insufficient. Words need integrity that flows from lives lived in service to others purely out of the love of God. As St. Francis is often quoted as saying, “preach always and, if necessary, use words.” Mission is evangelization embodied. Pope Francis said in Joy of the Gospel, “I am a mission.” Mission is rooted in the very heart of God. Anthony Gittins, a leading missiologist, said “Mission is God’s job description, it is what he does and who he is.” Jesus is the preeminent missionary. He was sent by the Father to bring love, salvation, and justice to the world. Jesus continues this mission – everyday – through those of us who are baptized and sent into the world. The missionary goes beyond themselves, steps outside their comfort zone, crosses some type of border, and risks a personal encounter with another human being in the name of God’s inexhaustible love. There are wonderful signs of hope that the people of God are beginning to move from maintenance to mission. Parishes around the country are creating partnerships to build bridges and relationships of solidarity with people in other cities, states, and countries. Dioceses are forming partnerships with other dioceses. Catholic high school students are cultivating relationships with other students around the world through video technology and social media. Bishop Barron, at the recent gathering of the US Bishops, stressed the need for the church to reach out to the growing number of the “disaffiliated;” people who do not affiliate with any religion. Two of his three points speak directly to mission – engage people in the work of justice and create parishes to be “missionary societies.” What if every parish had a mission commission or team that would organize the missionary activities of the parish? Some parishes have a neighborhood mission to the homeless, regular mission trips to the poor in Appalachia, or a long-standing partnership with a parish in another country. Not all parishes can be completely dedicated to mission, but every parish can, in some way, be a missionary society. All are called to be missionary disciples, but not all can be missionaries. A missionary is a ministry of the Church – just like a catechist. Most of us have had some type of missionary experience where we reached out beyond ourselves, for the good of another, with only their good, their blessing, as our goal. All of us can come together, share our missionary experiences, and discern where Jesus is sending us. We are the seeds of the Extraordinary Month of Mission. We who heard Jesus say to us personally, “The Father has sent me, now I send you.”
We’re well into the first week of Advent, and if you’re like me, you’re probably sick of all the Christmas displays and music and consumerism that has bombarded our senses since November started. As an American, it’s always been easy for me to get pulled into the secular world’s excitement about Christmas, its eagerness to get started with all the partying, eating, gift swapping, caroling, and general Christmas cheer. But as I’ve deepened my faith as a Catholic, I have found that the more focus I put on Advent as a time of preparation for Christmas, the easier it is to block out the unending secular Christmas noise and ready my heart, my home, and my family for the coming of the Christ child. For most people, the phrase “preparing for Christmas” probably evokes memories of setting up Christmas trees and hanging lights outside, wrapping gifts, or organizing the ideal Christmas classics playlist. And while those things certainly count as preparation for Christmas, won’t we suffer burnout—or what I have seen referred to as “the holiday hangover”—if we spend all of November and December with our house decked out for Christmas and with Christmas music playing all day long? I know I would. A few years ago, as I was researching Catholic Advent traditions that I could incorporate into my family’s liturgical life, I decided that I ought to shift our emphasis from when to set up the Christmas décor and instead focus on the spiritual longing and the growing excitement for the arrival of the Messiah. Traditionally and liturgically, Christmastide lasts many days—at the very least until the Epiphany, but usually until the Baptism of the Lord. Why not leave the Christmas celebrations until Christmastide and focus on the preparation during Advent? Israel spent countless years in hopeful anticipation of the savior—is it really so difficult for me and my family to spend four weeks emulating that same sense of joyful expectation? The Catholic Church has so many symbols and traditions from which we can draw to prepare our hearts and homes for Christ. In our house, we not only light the Advent wreath every night, but we darken the dining room lights in order to emphasize the light that Christ brought when he came into the world. We also recently implemented the Jesse Tree—a tradition I did not grow up with, but one that I have come to love because it condenses salvation history into a timeline that is easy even for my children to follow. We don’t listen to Christmas music during Advent, choosing instead to listen to Advent music. We read children’s books that discuss the animals’ preparing the barn before the Nativity, or the journey that Mary and Joseph took before Jesus was born. When we experience Advent in this way, the anticipation for Christmas builds with each passing week. As Christmas Day draws closer, we start baking and freezing the Christmas cookies to be eaten during Christmastide and to be given as gifts at Christmas parties. I take time to plan out special activities for us to do during the twelve days of Christmas, or special meals I know everyone will enjoy during that time. We pray the O Antiphons. We make or buy gifts for our loved ones, and we talk about how giving gifts to our loved ones is a reflection of the great gift of Jesus, who was given to us on Christmas Day. In this way, when we finally decorate the house on Christmas Eve, we are all practically bouncing with excitement—and not just about presents, but about the miracle of Christ’s birth. Our children’s—and our own—sense of wonder is bolstered and preserved by our not celebrating too early. By steeping ourselves in the history of the first Christmas and by maintaining that same sense of watchful hoping and waiting, we can more fully appreciate the wonder of the arrival of the promised Messiah. “We Christians are called upon to preserve and spread the joy of waiting: we await God Who loves us infinitely and at the same time we are awaited by Him.” – Pope Francis
Over many years, I have been honored to accompany others in their vocation discernment and growth in faith through spiritual direction. Often, as is the case now, it is with young adults – undergraduate and graduate students, seminarians, and those beginning their work careers. In almost every instance, they try to prepare themselves well for the Lenten season, but rarely think about preparing for the Advent season. For many, the end of an academic semester as well as the gatherings, travel, and shopping for Thanksgiving and Christmas tend to leave little time to focus on Advent preparation and living. May I invite you, as I do them, to enter well into the waiting of Advent? It is meant to be a quiet time of deeper reflection on the coming of the Messiah, not just the first coming (the Incarnation) that we celebrate at Christmas, but the second coming of Christ at the end of time. The candles of the Advent wreath will be lit one after the other and the time will go by quickly. May we not let it not slip by, but use it well as a time of prayer, reflection, discernment, and deepening our encounter with Christ, through ongoing conversion of heart! May the Charity of Christ urge us on! For more resources to accompany you during the Advent season, please click here. 11/12/2019 St. Josaphat: Model of Charitable Evangelization and Promoter of Christian UnityRead NowToday is the feast day of St. Josaphat, a monk and bishop who was martyred in modern-day Belarus due to his efforts for Christian unity in the 17th century. He was born John Kuncevic to Orthodox Christian parents in the late 1500s in Lithuania. Despite strong anti-Catholic sentiment in the Eastern Orthodox churches, a number of Eastern Catholic bishops signed the Union of Brest in 1598, which allowed several Eastern churches to maintain their liturgical rites while remaining in full communion with Rome. Following the leaders of his Ruthenian Church, John chose to unify himself with Rome and subsequently entered monastic life, taking on the name Josaphat.
As a priest and later a bishop, St. Josaphat worked tirelessly for reunification between the Roman Catholic church and the Eastern Orthodox tradition; he produced apologetics texts and catechisms, published defenses of ecumenism, and reformed the priesthood in his diocese. He struggled against an influential rival Orthodox bishop and schismatic preachers who slandered Josaphat’s reputation and who denounced his desire for Christian unity. Eventually, in the early 1620s, St. Josaphat was attacked by an anti-unification mob, who shot and beheaded him before dumping his body into a nearby river. After his death, many of his former dissidents converted to union with Rome and even Josaphat’s greatest Orthodox rival eventually returned to the authority of the Roman Catholic Church. What struck me when reading about St. Josaphat’s story was the utter breakdown in civil discourse. There were members on either side of the reunification debate who, while they disagreed strongly with one another, were able to do so without coming to blows. But after decades upon decades of increasing tension between the Roman Catholic Church and the Orthodox Christian churches, even a peaceful reformer and ardent defender of unity like St. Josaphat came to be seen by some as an enemy who must be taken down. And there were some whose support of maintaining the schism was so strong that they openly murdered the nearest figurehead of the ecumenical movement. At times like ours, when it feels like there is division and violence all around us, I find it comforting to look at the history of the Church and to see that she has struggled against division almost as long as she has existed. The difficulties that St. Josaphat faced in Eastern Europe were not new to the Church—from the Arian heresy to the Eastern Schism and the Protestant Reformation, Church history is littered with examples of people arguing over the truth, outright rejecting the authority of the magisterium, or spreading misinformation about the Church and her mission. St. Josaphat’s life reminds us of how we are called to evangelize with respect and charity in turbulent—and sometimes violent—times. We must work tirelessly for unity without compromising on the fundamentals of the Catholic faith and the authority of the magisterium, and study and defend the truth in respectful dialogue with those who disagree with us. And we must also prepare, perhaps, to be martyred for our efforts. Most of us will not suffer a violent martyrdom as so many saints before us have done, but there are smaller, everyday crosses that we can endure. When pointing out the truth loses us friendships, that is our little martyrdoms. When we have to wake up in the middle of the night to change yet another diaper, that is our little martyrdom. When someone cuts us off on our way home after a long day, that is our little martyrdom. When a family member misunderstands our intentions, that is our little martyrdom. Like Josaphat, let us rely on God to give us the strength and courage to continue in our everyday mission of evangelization. Every effort matters—even if you never see the fruit it bears—whether you are an archbishop trying to bring Orthodox Christian churches back into unity with Rome or you are a young Catholic trying to demonstrate that an authentic Catholic lifestyle is one of joy and peace. For more resources on Christian Unity, please click here. It is fitting that as I write this blog in anticipation for National Vocation Awareness Week, the liturgical calendar has us moving through Paul’s letter to the Romans. In this letter, we find Paul emphasizing that we are now entering into a ‘new exodus.’ Just as Israel was liberated from Egyptian slavery, we are now liberated from the slavery of sin. The sacraments of Baptism and the Eucharist are the means by which Catholic Christian believers are joined to the new Exodus. Baptism is prefigured by the Israelites’ passage through the Red Sea, and the Eucharist is prefigured by the manna and the water from the rock in the desert. As we know well, the story does not end at our baptism. Rather, it is there that the story begins. Israel, having escaped from Egyptian slavery, quickly discovered that serving the Lord was even more demanding on the will than serving Pharaoh. In order to reach the Promised Land, the people of Israel had to take a path through a wilderness of trials and temptations. This path required a valiant conquest of all the obstacles of sin that stood in their way. In fact, the difficulty of the journey had some yearning for the days when they were slaves in Egypt. As children of the ‘new exodus’, our vocation in life is to travel through the wilderness of human life. Our exodus differs from the old in some ways, though. Our proclamation of the freedom found in Christ occurs while we travel. Our baptismal vocation calls us to ongoing sanctification, but it also calls us to witness this great exodus from sin and the new freedom in and won by Jesus Christ. We often desire the commitment to this ‘new exodus’ after seeing the commitment of others. This is a point that Fr. Luigi Giussani makes in his book titled, Is it Possible to Live this Way?. Fr. Giussani stresses the necessity of faith by which one encounters Christ indirectly through the witness of another. This witness tugs at our hearts to the point where we have no choice but to respond. Witnesses are therefore crucial to our discovery of this vocation - a vocation to partake in the new exodus. In my own life, my first example of such witnesses began with my parents. They not only gave me life, but they witnessed the faith by making the home a domestic church. Their marriage provided a template for me in my own vocation. They helped me see that the expression of freedom from the tyranny of selfishness comes through a spousal love. This spousal love is not exclusively expressed through the sacrament of matrimony, but it is also expressed through the sacrament of holy orders. As a diocesan priest, my local church in Harrisburg, particularly St. Francis Xavier in Gettysburg, is in a sense my spouse. I could not have such an understanding were it not for the witness of my parents. In addition, every seminarian and newly ordained priest can think of at least one other priest who first witnessed the presence of Christ to them through their own ministerial priesthood. In my case, I watched and learned first from my childhood pastor in New Hampshire, Fr. Marc Montminy. He was, and continues to be, a witness of Jesus Christ and a faithful spouse of the Church. Other priests who have taken on a similar role in my life are Fr. Frank Donio, S.A.C. (the Director of the Catholic Apostolate Center), priests of the Diocese of Harrisburg, faculty priests at Mount St. Mary’s Seminary, and priests elsewhere. As a priest, I seek (despite shortcomings and failures) to always be attentive to this desire - a desire to reach the promised land of eternal life through this new exodus. This is only possible because I have encountered people who not only accompanied me in discovering this desire, but who also witnessed it. This is, in essence, what it means to be a ‘humana viator’ (a wayfaring pilgrim). This is what it means to be an apostle. This is what it means to imitate Jesus Christ, the apostle of the Father. This is what it means to fulfill our baptismal vocation. During this National Vocation Awareness Week, may we be more attentive to this desire. May we recommit ourselves to this new exodus, which we have already begun through our baptism. May we also maintain and express our gratitude for those who have (and continue to) accompany us as witnesses. For more resources on Accompaniment, please click here. For more resources on Vocational Discernment, please click here. |
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