To become a person of prayer, we need to make every effort to live always in the presence of God.  If we so live, there is every reason to believe that our life can gradually become one of ongoing prayer.  St. Paul urges Christians to “Pray without ceasing.”  The Holy Spirit makes this possible, and such a manner of praying becomes a way of life.  If the presence of God is acknowledged through a constant spirit of inner prayer, we should find ourselves ever more prepared to enter into the more structured forms of prayer that are part of the Christian life.  The Holy Spirit urges us to pray every moment.    

Faith is crucial to our prayer life. I think of the Gospel in which the father of the possessed boy says, “I do believe; help my unbelief.”  We should enter into every moment of prayer recognizing our need for deepening our faith and acknowledging that God is Who He is and we are not God.  We can pray, “Lord help remove my lack of trust, my lack of faith.  If, Lord, you still find an unresolved cause for discouragement within me, some doubt, take it away and instill in me unquestioning faith.” 

Each day, my prayer life consists of four forms of prayer:  The Divine Office, personal prayers and devotions, a daily rosary, and meditative prayer.  I pray to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, the Holy Spirit, and Mary Immaculate by way of a prayer that truly reflects my devotion to each.  My purpose for entering into such prayer is not only to give praise and honor to the person to whom I am praying at the moment, but also to use this time to pray both for people who have asked me to pray for them and also for oly SD     people whom  I know need prayer.  Of course, I pray for myself and my own needs as well.  God wants us to take a very personal approach to prayer; in other words, He wants us to be ourselves when we speak to Him. 

Meditative prayer asks us to do our best to select an appropriate time and place so that we might move out of the hustle and bustle of our daily routine and give the moment exclusively to God. It invites us to sit quietly in a comfortable position that still enables us to be alert.  Choose an appropriate time for meditative prayer by scheduling it when you find yourself ready for a break and for spending meaningful time with God free from distractions. Then, clear your mind of thoughts running through it haphazardly.   After all, we are taking a moment to discover Christ who dwells within us.  In order to show our sincerity in making this effort, we must first come into conscious contact with and recognize the person we are at the moment.  There are no masks allowed in the presence of God.  Christ wants to encounter us as we truly are.

Meditative prayer takes practice. We must acquire a taste for it if we are to decide to continue to use it to deepen our relationship with Christ. We will be willing to enter into meditative prayer regularly and consistently if we arrive at the conclusion that it Is truly a worthwhile method to help us grow in our relationship with Christ who calls us “friend.” I have found it helpful for my prayer life to establish a set time and place for prayer according to my living conditions and personal daily schedule.  I have also allowed myself to be flexible if these change or if I come to discover a place and/or time more suitable for contemplative prayer.

Try to give at least fifteen minutes to this prayer experience.  If you choose to continue with this approach to prayer, you will eventually come to discover that you are better able to freely enter into this prayer.  It is the Holy Spirit who teaches us how to pray, accompanies us throughout the prayer experience, and also makes it clear to us when it is time to conclude.  I personally find a half hour of quiet prayer to be a meaningful experience.  However, be open to praying for shorter or longer amounts of time depending on your conversation with the Lord.

Be aware of your mood when entering into prayer.  Again, we are entering into the Presence of the Lord just as we are.  It is important to acknowledge our mood and disposition, knowing God see us and accepts us as we are. Furthermore, do not try to rate any meditative experience.  It is prayer that we are talking about and not a moment of self- evaluation.  God always accepts our effort as a gift as long as it is offered with sincerity.

To begin meditation, I attempt to get in touch with what is going on in my life, placing myself in the presence of God. From there I select a word or phrase from the daily Gospel reading.  I tend to read the Gospel passage a couple of times and look to find myself in the reading.  It might be that something is going on in my life— a challenge, a problem, a confusing situation, a memory from the past.  If so, I try to bring this to the Lord in connection with the Gospel passage. Perhaps at such moments, I will deliberately choose a passage from Scripture that speaks to me concerning the situation at hand. How will Jesus speak to me in and through the chosen text?   If you wish to meditate on the entire Gospel scene, one way to do this is to put yourself into the scene and focus on what Jesus is doing and saying and how this speaks to your life. 

It is of course true that our power of concentration can be rather limited.  We face the challenge of distractions in meditative prayer as we do in every experience of prayer.  Once we realize the presence of a distractive thought, we need to let it go and get back to focusing upon
what we hope will lead us to a deepened sense of the presence of Jesus within. 

Meditative prayer is our invitation to the Lord to speak to our heart as He would: 

“Speak, Lord; your servant is listening.“ This element of listening is essential to a proper meditative experience.  Otherwise, such prayer can become the prayer of the Pharisee in the temple with the publican, what Jesus called a prayer about oneself to oneself.
 
By sharing some of my prayer practices above, I hope to have helped guide you deeper into an understanding of the life of prayer that makes every effort to live in the presence of God. Our prayer life is a constant journey of growth in which we seek to spend time with and grow closer to the Lord, already present within us. May we grow this year in our ability to pray without ceasing, and in so doing, embrace prayer as a way of life.
 

As a child, I was perplexed by the three in one nature of the Trinity. It was a mystery that was hard to fathom, but so much about my day to day Catholic faith was steeped in the Trinity that I simply believed and accepted it without question. Everything, from grace before meals, the beginning and ending of our prayers and devotions, the opening of the liturgy of the Mass, and the reception of the sacraments of Eucharist and Reconciliation,  began “In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” In my mind as a child, I considered the Trinity the divine family who created and loved me unconditionally.  I felt a strong sense of security under the umbrella of the love and protection of the Almighty, the Savior, and the Helper – as I learned to refer to them.
 
Now in adulthood, I have a deeper perspective on the Holy Trinity – my ‘divine family’ –as being the basis for Christian living. I have been fortunate to grow up in a loving family with a father who lived his life reflecting the divine love of the Holy Trinity. Being nurtured in a very tangible way through the example of my dad’s faith helped me understand and appreciate the gift of family. As a young teen, I remember my father’s admonition from Exodus: “Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land your God is giving you.” It wasn’t a suggestion; it was a command that came with a promise. My dad had a quiet countenance, but when he spoke, I listened! He appealed to my sense of what was right and encouraged me to be good. Just as God the Father instructed His people and led them on the right path, even amidst great suffering, my dad led our family with a confidence that being good and doing what is right would bring us to eternity with our divine family.
 
Throughout several millennia, God has watched over His creation with providential love. Through the ministry, death, and Resurrection of Jesus, He has shown us mercy very personally. The indwelling of the Holy Spirit in each of us guides us on the daily path of truth. What is so magnificent is how God ordered the human family to live out His wise and benevolent plan. In the Holy Trinity we are given the totality of all we need to live a holy Christian life. I join St. Paul in praying:
 
“This then is what I pray, kneeling before the Father, from whom every fatherhood in heaven or on earth, takes its name. In the abundance of his glory may he, through his Spirit, enable you to grow firm in power with regard to your inner self so that Christ may live in your hearts through faith, and then, planted in love, with all God’s holy people you will have the strength to grasp the breadth and the length, the height and the depth, so that knowing the love of Christ, which is beyond knowledge, you may be filled with the utter fullness of God.”  (Ephesians 3:14-19)
 
In Familiaris Consortio, John Paul II shares how earthly fathers “reveal and relive on earth the very Fatherhood of God.” Through my dad’s prayerful and faithful commitment to his role as husband and father, he led us to walk with God. His daily choices to pray and seek wisdom, to act charitably, and to put the welfare of my mom and his kids foremost taught me what the love of the Trinity looks like. By embracing his vocation as protector, provider, and teacher, my father made God’s love manifest in our domestic family. The older I get, the more I treasure this rich heritage I’ve been nourished in!
 
Pope Saint John Paul II also wrote that
 
 “a man is called upon to ensure the harmonious and united development of all the members of the family… by exercising generous responsibility for the life conceived under the heart of the mother, by a more solicitous commitment to education, by work which is never a cause of division in the family but promotes its unity and stability, and by means of the witness he gives of an adult Christian life which effectively introduces the children into the living experience of Christ and the church.”
 
This type of earthly fatherhood is the embodiment of the divine being of God the Father in the most Holy Trinity.
 
As the national day to celebrate fathers follows shortly after the Solemnity of the Holy Trinity, it seems fitting to reflect with gratitude on the gift of our divine Father and our human fathers—as well as the rich heritage we may possess through them. My dad lived a full ninety-four years and made it his mission to evangelize us to his last breath. He never ceased to serve his children and was a witness to the importance of a personal relationship with the Trinity. He shared with us his prayers to his ‘daddy’ in heaven and to his favorite saints. He encouraged his grandchildren and great grandchildren to talk to God throughout the day and beg Him for help. He exhibited an abiding hope in gaining something good from every experience, good or terrible. His favorite expression to everyone he encountered was “everything is beautiful!” His peaceful, positive countenance is what everyone remembers of him. This countenance comes from his life lived closely under the protection of God our Father, his devotion to the Sacred heart of Jesus, and his willing surrender to the wisdom of the Holy Spirit. My earthly father was a gift who made the love of God real for me; I will be forever grateful. 

Music and art can be some of the most comforting outlets the world has to offer in times of uncertainty. They can bring joy, nostalgia, and excitement while reminding us of the best parts of humanity. They point our eyes toward God, beauty itself.
 
I’m a musician, as are many of my friends. We sing for liturgies, we teach, we perform, we write. While so much of the world gets to work from home, we’re stuck in a sort of limbo. Our talents, our professions, have been shelved because there’s no one to physically perform for. Back in March, when the majority of my engagements had been cancelled indefinitely, I put my music on a shelf. I sat on the couch in a self-pity party. I became stagnant. What was the point of growing in my skill while I was sitting in my house all day? It left me feeling very empty and unfulfilled. Singing for Mass, while it is my job, has also become integral to my spiritual life. When that went away, I struggled to cultivate my spiritual life. Without my work, I felt unseen. 
 
It made me think: if I were never able to perform again for others, would I still make music? My first thought was, “Yes!” After months of feeling invisible and unproductive, I started to see that these were lies. God gave me gifts, and He sees me. When I’m sitting at my piano in my house, God is watching me. He is cheering me on as I practice and struggle and doubt. I realized it wouldn’t matter if no one ever heard me again.
 
As we are safely and carefully starting to get back to a sense of normal, I am learning to be grateful again for music and art more than ever. They bring us out of ourselves and our struggles and remind us that while things have been bad in the past and may be difficult in the future, there is still so much beauty and goodness present. Our God, pure beauty Itself, is present in all these things. Even though it might seem that creating art, like so many things, has been paused for the time being, it lives on in times of change and crisis. It is shaped and inspired by times like these and by the better, happier times to come. 
 
I cannot wait to sing for Mass again, to perform again, and to create with my friends and colleagues again. But in the meantime, I am comforted remembering that God hears me no matter what. He is still using me for His purpose every time I use my gifts for His glory. Even if it feels fruitless, let us always try to praise God by using our gifts -- God uses all things for good.

In the video reflection below, Project Coordinator Brian Rhude reflects upon Pentecost, its Biblical precursor in the Book of Genesis, and what the feast can tell us about our call to evangelize as Missionary Disciples.
​

 “Out of darkness, God has called us, claimed by Christ as God’s own people.  Holy nation, royal priesthood, walking in God’s marvelous light.” -Christopher Walker, Out of Darkness
 
At some point or another, almost everyone lives in one kind of darkness.  For some, that darkness can come with the loss of a loved one or a job.  For others, darkness can creep into our lives when we move for a job, start college, have an unexpected medical diagnosis, or just seem to have everything go wrong in our lives.  Right now, we are all living in the shadows and darkness of another kind—one that includes loss of life and jobs, but that is also much more.  The current pandemic seemingly brought darkness upon the world just as we got ready to celebrate the Sacred Triduum, three days that culminate in our proclamation that Christ is the light of the world.  The darkness, for many, is made even darker without being able to go to church, without a physical community of faith, and without the reception of the Eucharist.  And yet, as St. Peter said in his epistle, we are all “‘a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people of his own, so that you may announce the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.”  (1 Pt 2:9). We are called to live in the light, not in the darkness that we find ourselves in.  Right now, that may seem impossible.  The light seems to be out without a definite end in sight. , 
 
I have been lucky over the past few months to be not only living in community, but to also have regular access to the  celebration of the Eucharist.  Mass is celebrated daily at the seminary, so my own personal darkness does not include the absence of a community or the sacraments.  For me, darkness creeps in as a result of not being with those I love.  I couldn’t go to visit my family in New York in between the end of the semester and the beginning of my summer assignment. I am limited to phone calls here and there with those I love, and the occasional FaceTime video with my goddaughter and her brother.  This has been my own personal cross to bear, but it’s one that I know has made me appreciate the people in my life more than I did before the outbreak of the novel coronavirus.  But there are other things that are hard too, especially right after Archbishop Aymond suspended public Masses in New Orleans.  Other things such as this have entered into my own darkness and tried to snuff out the light of Christ. 
 
In the Eucharistic liturgy, right before the distribution of Communion, the priest, holding the Body and Blood of Christ, says “Behold the Lamb of God.  Behold him who takes away the sin of the world.  Blessed are those called to the supper of the Lamb.”  But, right now, those called to the supper of the Lamb can’t come.  To pray this prayer, to hear this prayer every day, is not easy to hear while many of the people of God aren’t able to be nourished through the Eucharist.  This chosen race is wandering in the desert, seemingly alone.  And yet, Jesus is there with us in our tombs.  He is there with us in our darkness.  He is there with us--waiting to bring us out of that darkness into the wonderful, marvelous, light.  God is with us even if we can’t seem to pray right now.  God is with us even if we can’t receive him physically right now.  God is with us even if all we can do is yell and cry with despair and loneliness.  God is always with us, preparing the dwelling place for us, his chosen race, his royal priesthood.  
 
And so, as we dwell in our darkness, let us remember that we are made for more.  We are made to live as the children of the light, not as the children of the darkness.  Jesus entered the tomb as a dead man and walked out of it alive.  Let us pray, in a special way, asking Jesus to enter our darkness.  That we, his chosen race, his holy people, his royal priesthood, may no longer dwell in darkness, but in his wonderful light.
 
Out of the darkness of missing the Eucharist, God is calling us.
Out of the darkness of loneliness, God is calling us, for we have been claimed by Christ.
Out of the darkness of uncertainty, God is calling us, for we are his own people.
Out of the darkness of sadness, God is calling us, for we are to live in his marvelous light
 
 “Out of darkness, God has called us, claimed by Christ as God’s own people.  Holy nation, royal priesthood, walking in God’s marvelous light.”
 
 

“What can I do?”
​
The question reverberates within us while we stay home during the COVID-19 pandemic.

To stay home often implies inaction, disengagement, fear. However, staying home during this unprecedented time is one of the most charitable actions we can make. To stay home is not to surrender or turn inward, but to care so much for the greater good that we are willing to make sacrifices to our daily life in order to protect our neighbor.

This calls for a radical mentality shift. As human beings, we have a tendency toward action. Even on a scientific level, the world is constantly in motion. Human beings want to do something with the hands given us and the breath in our lungs. We want to act. And in times of crises, we want to help. Perhaps this is more urgently felt by people of faith; it is intertwined in our very identity as baptized persons and is a living, breathing part of our spiritual life. We live out of the reality that “faith…if it does not have works, is dead.”

So during a time when one of the greatest acts of charity we can physically do is stay at home, we still find ourselves asking “what can I do?”

The good news is, we can still “do” a lot. With the corporal and spiritual works of mercy as a guide, I’ve compiled a list of ten ideas for alleviating suffering and spreading the Gospel during the novel coronavirus pandemic.  

1. Feed the hungry: We can still feed the hungry—whether they be first responders, people whose jobs are defined as essential, an isolated neighbor, or friend with a newborn. Send them a meal, cook one and make a contactless delivery, or give someone a gift certificate to a local restaurant. Feeding the hungry can also include donating to food pantries, becoming a Meals on Wheels volunteer, or preparing food with love for your own family.
2. Clothe the naked: Stuck at home? How about using some of this time go through your closet and simplify? Donate extra clothing items to charity or buy items online to contribute to different ministries or homeless shelters.
3. Give alms: Giving alms could include donating money to your local parish, a St. Vincent de Paul society, or other charitable organization that is working to alleviate poverty or suffering related to the pandemic.  
4. Visit the sick and imprisoned – While we cannot physically visit the sick or imprisoned, we can still write and send them cards. Homemade cards and hand-written notes can go a long way in giving another a sense of hope or alleviating loneliness. For those with loved ones in nursing homes, use this time to call on the phone or try a video chat.
5. Instruct the ignorant: Some of us may be tackling home schooling for the first-time or teaching relatives the ins-and-outs of a Zoom call, but instructing the ignorant entails more than academics and technology. How are we showing our friends, family, or neighbors how to turn to God in times of distress? How can we model a life of prayer, faith, and perseverance during times of suffering? We can instruct the ignorant by witnessing to faith that perseveres and sharing the Gospel through relevant conversations on suffering and the faithfulness of God.
6. Counsel the doubtful: In times of hardship, many ask how a good and loving God can allow suffering. Many are experiencing a crisis of faith. Give friends and family a call and check in with loved ones. Share things you are grateful for or how you see God’s hand continuing to work during this time. Turn to Scripture and other resources—be they talks, podcasts, or videos—that build up your faith and share these resources with friends and family.
7. Bear wrongs patiently: Many of us are facing incredibly stressful work and family life situations. Being stuck at home with family members or roommates can give us plenty of opportunities to practice patience with others. How can we take a deep breath and give others the benefit of the doubt right now? Even staying at home may feel like a wrong we are called to bear. Is there a virtue we are being called to grow in during this time? Ask God for the strength to take each day moment by moment with grace.
8. Forgive injuries: Living under stressful conditions often causes us to be irritable or moody. We are all facing something completely new that has disrupted our lives and routines. When stuck at home, we may find it’s easy to have more confrontation with those we are living with simply because we are seeing them and interacting more often. When Peter asked Jesus how often we are called  to forgive, his answer was “seventy-seven” – signifying a limitless amount of times. Let us pray to the Lord who said from the cross, “Father, forgive them,” to have the same spirit of compassion and forgiveness for our friends, neighbors, or leaders during this difficult time.
9. Comfort the sorrowful: Many people are disheartened, grieving, and confused right now. We can comfort the sorrowful by checking in with friends and family, writing letters, making phone calls, sending gifts, or making them a meal or treat. We can also share hope, encouragement, or words of positivity. Most importantly, we can offer prayers for those grieving and let them know we are carrying them in our hearts.
10. Pray for living and dead: prayer is one of the most powerful actions we can take each day, but especially throughout this time of suffering. Many people are feeling isolated, lonely, and scared as a result of the coronavirus and its implications. As Catholics, we know we are one body with many parts. When one part suffers, the body suffers. Let us offer up prayers for those who are sick, suffering, without a job, or unable to see friends and family. Let us also remember the dead and dying in our prayers. We can keep them in our prayer intentions, pray the Divine Mercy Chaplet, offer a Rosary, or unite our actions with the salvific work of Christ for the salvation of the world.

There are many ways we can live the corporal and spiritual works of mercy during this outbreak of COVID-19. What are some others ways you have shared the Good News and brought love and joy to others during this time?

Click here to learn more about the Corporal and Spiritual Works of Mercy.

​It was my spiritual director who first introduced me to the phrase new normal which has since become quite common in the days of COVID-19. At the time I learned this phrase, my Dad was sick, the situation was changing by the day, and my spiritual director shared a piece of wisdom with me: clinging to the past with no regard to where we stand in the present, let alone where we will stand in the future, is of little good. This doesn’t mean that we can’t look back fondly on memories and experiences—we should—but sometimes it’s necessary to shift our gaze from what was normal to what is our new normal.

Turn on the news and we’re bound to hear this phrase mentioned. The elimination of handshakes, added temperature screenings before flying or entering large venues, social distancing—these are all changes that are tossed around as potential aspects of our new normal. Inherent to the new normal is grieving the loss of what used to be normal. On a recent podcast, Brené Brown, a research professor and speaker, spoke with David Kessler, an author and expert on death and grief, about how we, as a world, are collectively grieving during COVID-19. Their first premise is that we must name our grief before we can take it on. As we look to a new normal, we will likely find ourselves grieving many of the simple acts we might have taken for granted.

So many of these aspects of our new normal are so far into the future and so uncertain that it might not be fitting for us to focus on them for too long lest we begin to fear for something not even guaranteed for the future. That doesn’t mean that we are not still mourning the loss of our normal and experiencing a new normal every single day. I celebrated my best friend’s birthday last week by sitting 12 feet apart and talking from a distance without even being able to share a hug. For those who have loved ones in hospitals or nursing homes, the difficult and sometimes downright terrifying new normal is not being able to visit them, to comfort them, or to be comforted ourselves. Our new normal might include grieving not being able to go to the store because it’s closed or because we are considered high risk if we contract the virus. In one way or another, we are all facing a new normal, but we must fight the urge to compare whose new normal is worse or more challenging.

The necessity to find a new normal isn’t new in itself. After 9/11, we were also forced into a new normal. The same occurred after World War I, World War II, the Spanish Flu, The French Revolution, and the Great Plague which all forced society to adopt a “new normal”. A new normal, however, doesn’t have to be a bad thing. The printing press, the steam engine, and the discovery of penicillin all created a new normal that we are thankful for.

Of course, the greatest events which created a new normal were the life, death, and Resurrection of our Lord, Jesus Christ. Think of the Apostles, such as James and John, who were called from a fishing boat to follow Jesus. Their entire conception of normal changed forever in that instance. As our Lord hung from the Cross on Good Friday, the world (especially that of the disciples) faced a new normal. How dejected afterwards were the two on the Road to Emmaus with their new normal, one that seemed to go on without the man they had come to know as the Messiah? Then of course, Jesus rose on the third day; He had defeated sin and death, and an eternal new normal was ushered into the world. That is the new normal which we can turn to in every moment when our lives are forced into a new normal we may not have asked for.

Jesus Christ, God made flesh, He who was and is and is to come, gave all of creation a new normal which rings eternal. Nothing that happens in our world can change what He did for us in His life, death, and Resurrection. We are faced with a constantly changing new normal and we have to name our grief and understand that some of what we once knew is no longer our normal. In doing so, may we always be rooted in Christ who stands above the chaos as the rock of our salvation. 

The world has been immersed in this COVID-19 pandemic for several months now, and as we endure the troubles it causes I am inspired to pray more ardently for us all.  This is new territory we are traversing.  Some are working from home, some are furloughed from businesses that are temporarily closed, some are working on the front lines as first responders and healthcare professionals, some are children being schooled at home. Gatherings and events are postponed indefinitely.  We are ordered to ‘shelter at home’ unless we need to seek medical help or purchase necessary household supplies.  Our normal routines have been severely disrupted and we are stressed with the new responsibilities of performing our duties on the home-front.  Families with children struggle to figure out distance learning and creative ways to incorporate recess and physical activity into their schedule. Adults are untangling the nuances of setting up home offices with all the technical details this entails. The elderly combat the loneliness of being shut in and away from interaction with their loved ones.  Households with people working in healthcare or essential jobs attempt to grind out a safe coexistence with other members of their home. All of us endeavor to carve out a new schedule for our days in lock down.
 
During this time that I am on leave from my work due to the shut-down, I am impelled to pray for the relationships of all those affected by this situation.  I use an adaptation of 1 Corinthians 13 as a model to pray for those I am in house with:
 
            Be patient with __________________
            Be kind to ___________________
            Don’t be jealous of _________________
            Don’t be boastful around ________________
            Don’t be arrogant towards _________________
            Don’t be rude with _____________________
            Don’t insist on your own way with _________________
            Don’t be irritable with ____________________
            Don’t rejoice at wrong in ___________________
            Rejoice at right in ___________________
            Bear all that ____________________ presents to you
            Believe in ___________________ right heart
            Hope for the best in _____________________
            Endure all for ____________________
 
When I pray these verses and insert the name of my husband and each of my children, my attitude of frustration is redirected, my heart softens to gentleness, and I am brought into God’s will for these relationships. This is important work we are called to engage in during this time.  We are given the wonderful opportunity to embrace the grace of the Holy Spirit so that we may suffer well through this crisis.  In the middle of turmoil and all sorts of troubles, we can choose to see the good that God can bring and live in the knowledge that we are not separated from His love. How beautiful that is to ponder! Romans 8:31-32, 35- 39 confidently professes to us all:

“If God is for us, who can ever be against us? Since he did not spare even his own son but gave him up for us all, won’t he also give us everything else? Can anything ever separate us from Christ’s love? Does it mean he no longer loves us if we have trouble or calamity, or are persecuted, or hungry, or destitute, or in danger, or threatened with death? No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loved us.  And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love.  Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow – not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below – indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.” 
 
This promise stands firm and keeps me rooted in persevering in faith through great personal hardship.
 
The distress of isolation, the difficulty in managing new routines, and the misery of being restricted from gathering with others are all huge trials for us.  But we have an Almighty God who conquered a cruel death on the cross to allow us to enter into union with Him and His Father in heaven for all eternity.  This reality draws me ever closer to Him in prayer and devotion.  While I cannot gather with my parish family at the celebration of the holy Mass, I can connect with other priests all over the country as they livestream daily and Sunday Masses. Today I was afforded the occasion to sit with my husband and dog in our family room and enter into Mass at the Cathedral of St. Joseph with Bishop Donald DeGrood of Sioux Falls, South Dakota. It was a powerful feeling of connectedness to the greater Church family in another part of the country.  We need only to search on our digital devices to find numerous ways we can connect as a Church and remain at a safe distance.  So, let us go into this new day with enthusiasm and joy that God is with us through all things. May this be a fruitful time of growth in holiness as we welcome His grace to suffer well this trial. Although our churches are eerily silent and empty, our praise and worship cries out from our individual homes and binds us together.  We are the Church!!
 
“Create a pure heart in me, O God, and put a new and loyal spirit in me.  Do not banish me from your presence, do not take your Holy Spirit away from me.  Give me again the joy that comes from your salvation, and make me willing to obey you.”  Psalm 51:10-12

“Always ask the Spirit what Jesus expects from you at every moment of your life and in every decision you must make, so as to discern its place in the mission you have received.” -Pope Francis, Gaudete et Exsultate, 23
 
Have you ever prayed a novena? Some people might find such a thing out of fashion, but it is making a return among a number of Catholics. For some, the practice never left.
 
For nine years, as pastoral director of St. Jude Shrine in Baltimore, Maryland, I led weekly novena prayers on Wednesdays and Sundays during the perpetual novena in honor of St. Jude, patron of hopeless cases. The custom of praying a novena, usually nine days of prayer, arose from the liturgical period of nine days between the Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord and Pentecost Sunday. (In recent years, many dioceses have moved the Solemnity of the Ascension from Thursday to the Sunday before Pentecost.) This liturgical time marks for us the period between when Christ ascended to the Father and the sending of the Holy Spirit on the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Apostles, and the disciples.
 
The Risen Christ gave his followers a mission. He told them to “Go”. But go and do what? “Make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit” (Matthew 28:19). They did not go immediately, but instead were looking at the sky. They were confused. Then they went into the Cenacle or the Upper Room, prayed and discerned together. They were not ready to go forth on mission for Christ. When the Holy Spirit came at Pentecost, they received the boldness to preach and to heal in the name of Jesus Christ. Only then did they accept their being sent by Christ.
 
As Christ sent them, so he sends us. St. Vincent Pallotti taught, as did the Second Vatican Council, that the baptized are sent into the world as apostles of Christ. In word and deed, our world needs to hear proclaimed that God is love, Christ saves, and Christ is alive (Christus Vivit, chapter 4). This is the initial proclamation of the Good News or the kerygma. When people encounter us, do they encounter Christ? Do we accompany them into greater faith in him? Are they welcomed into the community of faith, the Church? Do they realize that they, too, are sent? (cf. Living as Missionary Disciples, Part I).
 
We do none of these works alone. We are dependent on the Holy Spirit. As Pope Francis teaches us, “When you receive the Spirit, he draws you ever more deeply into the heart of Christ, so that you can grow in his love, his life and his power (Christus Vivit, 130). The Holy Spirit will guide us in our discernment and in the mission that we have been given by Christ.
 
May the Charity of Christ urge us on!

This Easter season, I have been thinking a lot about my late brother Tim, who died in an accident seven years ago - at the age of 24 - while serving as an EMT in Indianapolis, IN. Tim’s death, along with the death of his IEMS partner Cody Medley, left all their friends and families at an inestimable loss.

While I never got to meet Cody personally, I have learned that he was an exceptionally driven and talented young person who also served as a fire cadet before becoming a paramedic. Tim’s story is not much different; he was an Eagle Scout and volunteer EMS before going professional and passing his paramedic certification shortly before he died.

In life, Tim achieved success in almost every field. As a teenager he won academic and musical scholarships and posted regular five-minute miles in outdoor and indoor track. He mastered Mandarin and spent an immersion summer in Shanghai. He participated in a service trip to Jamaica and volunteered back home as a “running buddy” alongside students with special needs in Central Park. These successes, paired with his later commitment to the medical profession, truly made him “A Man for Others” – the Jesuit motto of his alma mater, NYC’s Regis High School.


Only looking backwards have I come to appreciate how brilliant Tim was. Perhaps you have a similar person in your family – someone who is so smart that they are intimidating. Tim was fearless in challenging others (especially those in authority) when he thought they were wrong. I have thought of him throughout this entire pandemic. As a first responder, I know that he would be helping wherever help was needed. As the outspoken person he was, I know he would have choice words for those he felt were ignoring public safety protocols. And most of all, as a cuttingly funny person, I know he would help me laugh during this time.


Tim died three days into Lent, on February 16th, 2013. I have remembered him especially during every Lent and Easter since then. This past Lent was perhaps the most difficult yet. Many say that it takes seven years to heal from losing a loved one. The year 2020 marks seven years for all who loved Tim. To me, I felt healing – which also meant letting my guard down to feel fully the pangs of loss I couldn’t afford to feel in 2013.

The coronavirus situation, if nothing else, has clarified the relationship between life and death. We are all vulnerable humans. This can be a scary thought, but also a freeing one.

This can be a time to meditate on life as what it is – a short chance to grow, love, and serve others. We do not know how long the journey will last. I sometimes think that my brother attacked life the way he did because he might have sensed that he had less time than others. He used to wake me up after midnight, for instance, after I had already gone to bed, and say “Come on bro, get up, let’s make some memories.” At the time I thought he had a screw loose. Now I think he was prophetic.

​Recently in the Gospel readings, we hear Jesus tell the disciples, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.”

These words are a balm to all of us who have experienced loss, or who fear loss during these challenging times. As I read this passage, I am touched by the care and concern Jesus shows for his followers. He is also being quite honest with them and reminding them that they will lose him. The promise of peace is made realer by the reality of loss. This is what I receive from today and feel to be true in my own life.

One year after Tim’s death, on Easter Sunday 2014, my family went to Mass in a church we had never been to before. The previous year had been difficult for everyone. Personally, I had not been taking care of myself mentally, physically, or spiritually. In the prior twelve months, I had not felt anything approaching peace. I was experiencing great fear and having awful panic attacks. That morning, sitting in the pews, waiting for Mass to begin, I suddenly noticed all sound around me fade out. I felt a sensation of all the breath leaving my body – and then my next breath was a slow, purposeful breath that was like drinking cool water in the desert. I was able to begin breathing in a deep and rhythmic way. Over the next few minutes, I felt as if warm light was streaming over me, from the head down. It was a feeling of complete release and relief. Ever since, I’ve been hoping to feel that peace again.

Like my brother, I doubted (and still doubt) aspects of my faith. Tim wrestled to understand people who believe that faith and the intellectual life are incompatible. Being the true original that he was, I think he found it difficult at times to imagine a place in Christianity where he fit in. Yet after his death, I learned that some of Tim’s recent writings and reflections expressed the faith of a mature man who trusted in a loving God. I reflect on his words often as I remember my “kid brother” - who responded to numerous life-or-death situations and treated severe injuries which I would be terrified to walk into. Like everything else, Tim’s faith journey happened at a rate and intensity that most of us will never know.

As Easter moves on and we navigate the new normal that is COVID-19, my spiritual suggestion (for what it’s worth) is this: In your prayers, dreams, and doings, try to let fear and hope co-exist. I will try to do the same. If we can hold those two seemingly irreconcilable opposites, we may find that peace can sprout like a flower right in between our hands.
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