 Advent approaches. How are we preparing ourselves for this season that can go by so quickly? We are given this time by the Church as an opportunity to slow down, reflect, and wait. At the same time, we are called to more in Christ. It is not a complacent time, but one of active waiting. We are preparing ourselves for Christ, but not simply through waiting for our remembrance of the Incarnation at Christmas. We are also called to examine our lives and see how we are living for Christ now. Our lives need to be aligned to what he wants of us, not simply what we want, how he wants us to give of ourselves, not simply receive. Advent helps us examine our intentions, our motives, our ways of living and see how they can be more Christlike. We can do this through being more intentional about our time with God and with others, aligning our hearts more closely to Christ. Rather than rushing these encounters, we are offered an opportunity to patiently be in them through our prayer and care. We at the Catholic Apostolate Center hope that you have a blessed Advent season. We have many resources that can assist you in using this special time well. May the charity of Christ urge us on! In God, the Infinite Love, Fr. Frank
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 Growing up in a fairly large extended Catholic family, I remember the Thanksgivings of my childhood always including long, loud dinners, preceded by seemingly longer prayers of grace before the big meal. As children, we were encouraged (or, really, required) to go around the table and each name one thing we were most thankful for. It could be something small or large, momentous or enduring, as long as it was something we were truly grateful to have in our lives. My parents, aunts, and uncles were naturally trying to make sure we didn’t take for granted the food on the table, let alone all the other blessings in our young lives. There were plenty of years when, fancying myself the dutiful elder of two children, I’d spend the week or so leading up to the holiday concocting the best possible thing to say I was thankful for, lest my younger sister or one of my cousins come up with something better. And then there were the years when I completely forgot to prepare, only to halfheartedly come up with something on the spot when my turn came. While the former may have boosted my ego, the latter made up for it by knocking me down a peg. I’d often think to myself, “Could I really be so ungrateful that that’s all I could come up with?” As we hear in today’s Gospel reading, one of the ten lepers, “realizing he had been healed, returned, glorifying God in a loud voice.” Jesus commended the Samaritan man’s gratitude, telling him, “your faith has saved you.” Don’t we all prefer to think of ourselves as that dutiful, humble foreigner, rather than counting ourselves among the nine ungrateful ones who couldn’t be bothered to thank Jesus? And yet, how quick we are to forget the truth that we are, in fact, abundantly blessed by God. I’ve always found this story to have two key points. First, we are better able to receive God’s blessings and grace when we are grateful: “your faith has saved you.” The second is a bit more hidden, though. Note how Luke mentions that, “one of them, realizing he had been healed, returned” to thank Jesus. It’s not necessarily true that the other nine were just a bunch of ingrates. Rather, they were doing what Christ had instructed them to do. They obeyed in an act of faith, and in so doing, were healed along the way. While they were healed physically, however, the leper who returns is also healed spiritually: he is saved. How often do we forget, in the midst of the stresses and struggles of life, that we’ve each been blessed by God? It’s not a matter of remembering to thank Him for the big things; those parts of life are the easiest to be grateful for. It’s the small things, the things we take for granted, that we ought to try the hardest to be thankful for. Not only will that reflection make us more appreciative of our blessings themselves, it will remind us even more deeply that all of life’s blessings are gifts from God. Question for Reflection: What are some things you are grateful for this year? *This was originally published November 23, 2017*
 One of the topics the 2018 Synod on Young People, the Faith, and Vocational Discernment sought to address was the role of mentorship in the development of the spiritual life. In a time when so many of us seek to know more about the faith and struggle to find faithful examples in the world, the topic of mentorship is extraordinarily important in nourishing young Christians in the faith. The Instrumentum Laboris for the Synod, published in March, brings up two major points that address the roles a mentor has today. The first, and most talked about, is that of accompaniment. The other is education, which is especially important in a time when we live in an increasingly secular culture. These two facets of mentorship are different and cannot always be fulfilled by one person. For this reason, the contribution of the community of faith is incredibly important. In my life, faith education came from many sources, but none was more important than my Confirmation teacher who was also my youth basketball coach and the father of one of my best friends. Throughout my life, my mentor helped me to learn and grow more in my faith by inviting me to events and men’s conferences. In my Confirmation classes, he showed the beauty of the Faith and helped me understand the truth that flows from the Church’s teachings. Like many young people, I didn’t fully take advantage of a great mentor when I had the chance. But his presence in my life continues today, and his example is a continual witness of what it means to be a faithful Christian. When we look at the life of a saint, we often see the impact other peers, mentors, or saints had in their life. St. Augustine, for example, had two great saintly mentors: St. Monica (his mother) and St. Ambrose. St. Monica, who prayed tirelessly for the conversion of her son, showed the young Augustine an example of the Christian faith in a lived way. Augustine only fully appreciated this until after his conversion. St. Ambrose provided Augustine—who was struggling with his dualist view of the universe—with the truths found in the Christian faith, which strengthened Augustine and propelled him to ultimately become a Doctor of the Church. In my life, my friends and peers have been incredible examples of accompaniment. An intimate and baseline knowledge about me makes it so much easier for a friend or peer to understand where I am in life and how to proceed. Peer mentorship, in my experience, is only possible because of the tireless effort that my parents, teachers, ministers etc. have put into nurturing me in understanding and action in the Faith. Without those people I wouldn’t have had the faithful and honest advice that is always so valuable to making me a better Catholic. Just as Jesus sent out his Apostles two by two, we share in the Apostles’ mission to evangelize the world and we must rely on those who share our mission for their support in life. Saints are often friends with other saints. Two men who followed in the footsteps of the Apostles in fraternity and holiness were St. Ignatius of Loyola and St. Francis Xavier. In the early days of the Jesuit Order, these saints relied on one another for the strength to persevere in promoting the mission of the Society of Jesus. Roommates at the University of Paris, their friendship was centered around Jesus and informed by their studies in Theology. The union of intimate friendship and a well-formed Christian mind creates incredible fruits, which are seen clearly in the success of the Jesuit Order in the missionary work in Europe and around the world. A revitalized sense of mentorship among Christians is so necessary in a time when the world directs us away from God and into itself. The responsibility for educating and accompanying young people falls on old and young alike. So many young people search for true meaning. It is our responsibility as Christians to take their hand and walk them closer to faith by showing them the truth in the Church’s teachings. The 2018 Synod is so important because it refocuses on the universal call to holiness. We are called to invite young people into the fullness of the Faith through mentorship, educating them in the fullness of her truth and accompanying them through their struggles—always striving to bring each other closer to Christ along the way. Questions for Reflection: Do you have any examples of mentorship in your own life? How can you accompany and educate those around you in the example of Christ? For more resources on the Synod on Young People, the Faith, and Vocational Discernment, please click here. *This post was originally posted November 12, 2018*
 I do not know when I first met St. Martin de Porres, but by the time our youngest son was born, whom we named after him, Martin de Porres had captured our hearts and our hope. That was 2005. My devotion to Saint Martin has slowly grown over the years, and I believe we need to seek his intercession to heal the racial tensions that continue to exist in our country. Martin de Porres (1579-1639) was a Dominican Brother known for his humility, his gift of healing, industry, and care for the poor. Martin was mixed race - his mother was Anna Velazquez, a free Negress, and John de Porres, of Spanish nobility. At first, his father rejected Martin - “son of an unknown father” was on his baptismal registry. Martin had a younger sister, Joan. Eventually, his father cared for his children when he held a government post in Ecuador and, when sent to govern Panama, entrusted Joan to his uncle and returned Martin to his mother, in Lima, and cared for their financial needs. Wanting to know more about Martin de Porres, I read Saint Martin de Porres - Apostle of Charity by Giuliana Cavalini (Tan Books and Publishers, 2000), the biography of St. Martin de Porres officially recognized by the Dominican Order. At a very young age, Martin cared for the poor and sought time in prayer. A resourceful boy, his mother had him shop for their dinner. Martin gave the money to the poor and stopped to pray in churches along his way. Years later, when Martin returned to his mother after four years with his father in Ecuador, he was aware of his precarious status as a mixed race male and his need for a trade. He apprenticed as a “barber” who, in addition to cutting hair and beards, also practiced medicine such as pulling teeth or first aid. Martin entered the Dominican Order at Monastery of the Holy Rosary as a “lay helper,” the lowest status, when he was 16 years old. I am chastened by St. Martin’s incredible story and the remarkable province of God. St. Martin freely and consciously chose “to be an abject in the house of my God.” (Psalm 83:11) and resisted his father’s - and even some of his religious superiors - insistence that he become a Dominican Brother. At first, he did the most menial work - cleaning bathrooms and floors. St. Martin is often depicted with a broom in his hand. Eventually, he became a “brother” and received the full habit. St. Martin prayed before the crucifix. He was captured, overwhelmed, by God’s love for him, “a poor mulatto,” poured out through Christ crucified. For hours he would pray before the crucifix as if absorbing the infinite love of God. His humility, his fasting, his penance, and yes, his mortification, were designed to eliminate any pride that would obstruct God’s love. At times, St. Martin levitated, being lifted up, so he was face to face with Jesus. Eventually, St. Martin became responsible for the infirmary given his medical training. Numerous miraculous healings were attributed to him. He attended the sick and dying with great tenderness. His Dominican Brothers would be upset if he did not care for their minor ailments. He would reassure them and then care for the critically ill. His brothers witnessed bilocation - St. Martin attended to the sick in other places, even countries, and never left the monastery. St. Martin’s charity, and his practical prudence, extended beyond the confines of the monastery. He saw orphans living on the streets of Lima and their need for medical care, food, and education. He worked with benefactors - many cured by his healing touch - to establish the Orphanage of the Holy Cross to see to their health and education while he continued his work in the infirmary, and his duties of hospitality. It still exists today as the Colegio de Santa Cruz. St. Martin is close to us here in the Archdiocese of Washington. Father Felix Barotti was sent to the United States to evangelize African Americans in 1866. He built a chapel, dedicated to St. Martin de Porres, which they quickly outgrew. Since a church is not dedicated to “a blessed”, Saint Augustine Catholic Church, built in 1876, was the successor of Blessed Martin de Porres and became the “mother church” of African American Catholics. Pope John XXIII proclaimed Martin de Porres saint on May 6, 1962. I am chastened by St. Martin de Porres, our “little mulatto brother,” by his total devotion to Christ crucified, the centrality of charity to the Christian life, our call to heal others, and his unwavering belief that hate has no place in the Christian heart. I am not disheartened. An encounter with grace reveals sin, frees us to repent, and enkindles our longing for holiness born in penance and prayer and overflows in love for others - especially for the poor. St. Martin often said, “let us save our souls through the merits of the blood of Jesus Christ.” St. Martin embraced humility to awaken his charity made tangible through menial works of hospitality, fasting so others could eat, and uncommon patience and tenderness. May we learn from his example. St. Martin de Porres, Apostle of Charity, pray for us.
 The Church has an excellent opportunity to strengthen its hope in the Lord as we prepare for the 2025 Jubilee Year whose theme is “Pilgrims of Hope.” Pope Francis has invited the Church to prepare for this time of Jubilee with a Year of Prayer. Prayerful preparation for the Jubilee allows us to discern how we can witness the hope that comes from Christ the Lord. Pope Francis in the Bull on Indiction for the Jubilee says that “hope is born of love and based on the love springing from the pierced heart of Jesus upon the cross” (Spes Non Confundit, 3). The merciful heart of Jesus offers us the way toward hope. In his recently released Encyclical, Dilexit Nos (He Loved Us), Pope Francis reflects on the reality of the world and the need for all to live more aligned with the way of love of the heart of Jesus. He offers this reflection: “The heart of Christ, as the symbol of the deepest and most personal source of his love for us, is the very core of the initial preaching of the Gospel. It stands at the origin of our faith, as the wellspring that refreshes and enlivens our Christian beliefs” (32). When we align ourselves in this way, we can assist in growing unity through two of the fruits of love, reconciliation and peace. Division is not from God, wherever that division is found. We might find such a thought incredibly idealistic, if not impossible. Yet, that is what we strive toward as Christians. Pope Francis reminds us: “It is only by starting from the heart that our communities will succeed in uniting and reconciling differing minds and wills, so that the Spirit can guide us in unity as brothers and sisters. Reconciliation and peace are also born of the heart. The heart of Christ is ‘ecstasy’, openness, gift and encounter. In that heart, we learn to relate to one another in wholesome and happy ways, and to build up in this world God’s kingdom of love and justice. Our hearts, united with the heart of Christ, are capable of working this social miracle” (28). The heart of Jesus opens our own hearts and the impossible can become possible. May the Charity of Christ urge us on! In God, the Infinite Love, Fr. Frank
 I have always had a special admiration for St. Jude. Growing up, my home parish was the Church of St. Jude. I can still remember my mom telling me to pray to the saint whenever I felt that I was facing an impossible task. Legend says that since his name was so close to that of Judas, many people did not pray to him, for fear of confusing the two. To show his thanks to people who did remember him, St. Jude was willing to be extra fervent in bringing the faithful’s requests to the Lord. In John’s Gospel, towards the end of the Last Supper, Christ observes that soon he will no longer be with his disciples, but that he will soon reveal himself. Jude asks Jesus, “Master, [then] what happened that you will reveal yourself to us and not to the world?” (John 14:22) Our Lord responded, “Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him” (John 14:23). He is telling his disciple, and us, that whoever holds God’s teachings in his or her heart and acts accordingly is filled with the Spirit of the Lord. The Feast of Sts. Simon and Jude remind us all to be God’s dwelling place. While we do not know much about the lives of either saint, tradition tells us that Simon was called the Zealot in the gospels and Acts (Lk 6:15; Acts 1:13). There is some debate to whether this means he was an ardent disciple of Jesus or that he was a former member of the Zealot sect that advocated for the violent overthrow of the Roman occupation. If the latter is to be believed, then Simon truly demonstrates that no one is beyond becoming a dwelling place of the Lord. The Zealots were known to use violence to advocate noncompliance with the Roman authorities. Nevertheless, tradition and legend hold that Simon helped to spread the Good News, peacefully, through much of the Middle East. It was that conversion of heart that truly made Simon a dwelling place of the Lord. Legend tells us that both saints suffered martyrdom while spreading the faith in Syria. Tradition holds that Simon was either crucified or sawed in half while Jude was clubbed to death or beheaded by an axe. Yet, in the face of adversity and hostility, they continued to profess the faith that had been revealed to them until the very end. So, the question remains: How do we become God’s dwelling place? The answer is simple – follow what Jesus told St. Jude at the Last Supper: love the Lord and keep His Word. When we accept and follow the Word of God, He truly and fully enters into our lives. By keeping His word on our minds and in our hearts, we make ourselves His dwelling place. Sts. Simon and Jude truly became dwelling places of God. What happens when God resides with someone? He or she becomes so full of God’s love that it must be spread. That is what happened to Sts. Simon and Jude and that is what is possible for all of us. By following their example, we, too, can be an outpouring of God’s love to others and help build up His kingdom. *This post was originally posted October 27, 2015* -- The St. Jude Shrine is located in the heart of Baltimore, Maryland, and has been operated and staffed by the Pallottine Fathers and Brothers for over 80 years. The Archbishop of Baltimore entrusted the Shrine to the Pallottines in 1917. Regular Novena Services were established around the outset of World War II, when devotion to St. Jude reached remarkable proportions. Today, St. Jude Shrine is the Nationwide Center of St. Jude Devotions. Like the St. Jude Shrine on Facebook. The St. Jude Shrine is a ministry of the Society of the Catholic Apostolate - Immaculate Conception Province. Learn more by visiting http://www.sacapostles.org/our-ministries.html. AuthorVictor David is a collaborator with the Catholic Apostolate Center and a staff member at The Catholic University of America in Washington, DC.
 Lately I have found myself particularly grateful for all the ways my one-and-a-half-year-old helps me to live and pray better and to be more appreciative of God’s many gifts to us. She is in awe of a great many things. She is utterly fascinated by the microwave. She looks up at it as it heats her meal with an admiration I would reserve for precious few things. But her awe-filled gaze invites me to look around and recognize that, in fact, there is so much worthy of my fascination and admiration. If I stop to think about it, it actually is incredible that this gift of food can be brought to the temperature of my choosing in a matter of seconds. So much around me—from ingenious appliances to the intricate patterns found on a leaf—really is a marvel. My toddler notices all these things in the world around her, largely due to the slow and deliberate pace with which she does everything. True, I often find this irritating in my struggle to get out the door quickly. Yet, when I am patient and open to letting her take her time and put her shoes on herself, I realize that there are a number of times when I do not actually need to rush. I do not have to be in a constant hurry, going from thing to thing or place to place without pause. If, like her, I take a much more relaxed approach to time, I might notice how sweet the bird’s song is or what an unusual shape the cloud in the sky has. I might even take a moment to offer a prayer of gratitude for all that surrounds me. My toddler shows me just how to express this sort of gratitude. She relishes what seems mundane to me. For example, she delights in water. Whether she is trying to rinse for a fifth time while washing her hands, splash with uncontainable joy in the bathtub, or attempting to dive into the holy water font at church, she proclaims just how precious and delightful water really is. I tend to focus on its practical uses for cleaning and cooking, but because of her infectious delight, I have come to a new appreciation of this dimension of water. It has invited me to a deeper reflection on Baptism, in which God has “renewed our corrupted nature in the bath of regeneration” (Roman Missal, no. 54), and the use of holy water more generally. The prayer of blessing over the water highlights the way in which water makes the fields fruitful, refreshes and cleanses our bodies, and quenches our thirst. There is so much on which to meditate as we bless ourselves in the font. Indeed, every sign and gesture of the liturgy is filled with meaning if I can just take a cue from my toddler to see it. Her mastery of nonverbal communication is remarkable. Even without words, she has no difficulty understanding what is going on or expressing herself. When she wants to be carried, she throws her hands up in a gesture of joy, abandonment, trust, and pleading. It may be that she is tired from walking, has bumped herself, or just needs to snuggle. Flinging her arms upward expresses her readiness to be caught up in an assuring embrace and her absolute certainty that she will indeed be picked right up and enfolded securely in my arms. I recently noticed the similarity between her gesture and the orans (Latin for praying) posture used in the Mass, when the priest prays with hands extended. This gesture manages to convey so much in a language beyond words, expressing many of these same desires my daughter has when she wants to be picked up. In this moment as all our prayers are gathered into one, are we not turning upward and offering our petitions to our heavenly Father? Are we not entrusting our very selves to God, confessing that we are tired and bruised and in need of comfort, pleading to be drawn close? Are we not invited to approach with the same complete confidence my toddler has, resting in the knowledge that God will provide for our every need? These are just some of the many lessons I can stand to learn from my toddler, and I am deeply grateful for all she teaches me.
 October 12th is the Feast of Blessed Carlo Acutis. Since he was beatified, I have learned more about him through various articles and videos. He is truly remarkable and an inspiration to young Catholics around the world! I was intrigued by his devotion to the Eucharist and his keen interest in computers and Eucharistic miracles. I recall one of his quotes: “The more Eucharist we receive, the more we will become like Jesus, so that on this earth we will have a foretaste of heaven.” This reminds me of the adage, “you are what you consume.” I think about that when consuming social media today and the challenge of finding good and inspiring news. When we encounter that news, what do we do with it? Do we scroll away once we read the headline? Do we bookmark it, say we will get to it later and never end up reading it? Considering Blessed Carlo, I think we are called to do something more! Just as Blessed Carlo shared the power of Eucharistic miracles, we can foster Eucharistic encounters through social media. Eucharistic encounters are transformative, calling us back to Christ. Through this encounter, our faith is deepened and renewed, and we are brought into a relationship with Christ. Below are three helpful ways to foster Eucharistic encounters through media: 1. Share something honest Posts are often tailored to show only the good sides of life, giving the illusion of a perfect life, when in reality life is not necessarily how it looks on social media. As a Catholic parent, the posts that I take to heart are those that are honest. I recall a friend who is a mother of two posting about her experience of raising two kids. She showed a picture of her cluttered home, commenting how it was late, the kids had yet to be put to bed, they were not following her directions, and she still had a laundry list of things to do. Despite that, she gave thanks to God for being able to raise a family with her husband and having two kids who genuinely care about their faith. These posts meet people where they are at, showing the mundaneness of human life where not everything has to be perfect or go to plan. 2. Root it in Christ and your faith Sacraments like the Eucharist have a visible and invisible reality. The visible reality is the outward expression, that is, the form they take and the way in which they are administered and received. The invisible reality is God’s grace. Fostering a Eucharistic encounter through social media means rooting what we share in Christ and our faith. What we choose to share may be good or inspiring news, but what does the news point to? Going back to my friend, despite the chaotic moment she shared about her family life, she took the opportunity to give thanks to God for her family and children. Gratitude is a powerful expression that builds human connection. What we share on social media are moments of life. In giving thanks to God for that moment, what we are sharing points to the invisible reality that these moments are gifts from God. 3. Consider a Call to Action The Roman Missal has various options for dismissal as part of the Mass: “Go and announce the Gospel of the Lord,” “Go in peace, glorifying the Lord by your life” and “Go in peace.” In all options, the faithful are sent out to share the Gospel. Fostering a Eucharistic encounter through social media can have a similar effect, calling people to action. Posts like my friend’s that share a moment in their life that they are thankful to God for is a great opportunity to invite others to do the same. In this case, my friend invited others to think about one thing they were thankful for and share it with a family or friend. A call to action is a way for others to sow the seeds of the Gospel, a message which bears fruit over time as people continue to share it faithfully. Earlier this year in his message for the 58th World Day of Communication, Pope Francis focused on artificial intelligence, both its uses and challenges. He mentioned this regarding growing in humanity: “We are called to reflect carefully on the theoretical development and the practical use of these new instruments of communication and knowledge. Their great possibilities for good are accompanied by the risk of turning everything into abstract calculations that reduce individuals to data, thinking to a mechanical process, experience to isolated cases, goodness to profit, and, above all, a denial of the uniqueness of each individual and his or her story.” Despite advances in technology, human connection is something that should not be compromised nor forgotten. Social media is a tool which can be used for good such as evangelizing. Fostering Eucharistic encounters through social media is an opportunity to deepen realities to ultimately foster relationships with Christ. Like Blessed Carlo, let us share the Gospel through creative ways as we interact with others through social media.
 Today, on the Memorial of Our Lady of the Rosary, we are reminded of the important role that the rosary plays in our daily lives. It is a form of prayer that we seek when we are struggling and need the comforting embrace of a mother. It is a form of prayer that is joyful, celebrating our successes with Christ through Mary. Devotions to Mary have always been an important aspect of my faith. In particular, the rosary has helped me through many tough times in my life and given me the strength to continue forming my life to Christ, but its importance was reinforced in the first few months of my college career when I joined the Knights of Columbus. Upon entering the Order, Knights are given a rosary as a symbol of our devotion to Mary and a reality of our reliance on her example and her intercession with God But why should we say the rosary? Saint John Paul II gives a clear picture of the rosary’s importance: “The Rosary mystically transports us to Mary's side as she is busy watching over the human growth of Christ in the home of Nazareth. This enables her to train us and to mold us with the same care, until Christ is “fully formed” in us.” When we pray the rosary, many of us are seeking the warm embrace of a mother, someone who can reassure us in our fears and give us the strength to live out each day for Christ. Mary is our mother in every sense of that word. Christ, moments from death, says to Mary, “Behold, your son,” and to the disciple whom he loved, “Behold, your mother.” With these words Christ gives Mary to all of us as our mother, the Mother of the Church, and with these words we are formed by her just as Christ was. The rosary does not pull our attention away from Christ, but rather joins us with him through our love of Mary. John Paul II tells us in Rosarium Virginis Mariae, “Never as in the Rosary do the life of Jesus and that of Mary appear so deeply joined. Mary lives only in Christ and for Christ!” The rosary allows us to participate in that union and calls us to share in the life of Christ through our relationship with his Mother. Each time we pray the rosary we focus on the Joyful, Sorrowful, Glorious, or Luminous mysteries. These are not only drawing us closer to Mary, but to the life of Christ as each set of mysteries is grounded in the Gospel. When we pray the rosary we do not just repeat prayers over and over again, but rather we are given the opportunity to live out a different aspect of the life of Christ with each decade. Repetition is an important aspect of the rosary, but is it actually repetition? Archbishop Fulton Sheen in his book “The World’s First Love” tells us that it is not repetition for each time we say the rosary, “we are saying to God, the Trinity, to the Incarnate Saviour, to the Blessed Mother: "I love you, I love you, I love you." Each time it means something different, because, at each decade, our mind is moving to a new demonstration of the Saviour's love.” Who better to remind us of the Christ’s love than Mary, the Mother of God, our mother, who raised Jesus, formed him, and followed him. Who better to emulate than Mary, who watched her son suffer and die on the cross for our salvation. Each time we say the rosary we are embraced by our mother, we are renewed in our faith, and we are reminded of God’s love. “Remember, O most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, or sought thine intercession was left unaided. Inspired by this confidence, I fly unto thee, O Virgin of virgins, my mother; to thee do I come, before thee I stand, sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in thy mercy hear and answer me. Amen.” *This post was originally published October 7th, 2024* AuthorNicholas Shields is a young professional from Washington, D.C.
 In thirty-three days, the citizens of our country will go to the polls to elect the next President and Vice-President of the United States, their representatives to Congress, and in some cases, state and local officials. To encourage and support our engagement in politics, our bishops wrote Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship – A Call to Political Responsibility (approved in November 2015, and the new introductory note November 2023, at their Plenary Assembly). This document is a gift, too often left unwrapped or under appreciated, that will deepen our faith, challenge us to be more responsible, and free us to build, in the words of Pope Benedict, a “civilization of love.” Citizenship gives us the opportunity to work for justice. According to the document, “The work for justice requires that the mind and the heart of Catholics be educated and formed to know and practice the whole faith” (para 4). We have the responsibility, the opportunity, and the capacity “to hear, receive, and act upon Church’s teaching in the lifelong task of forming” our conscience, a conscience grounded in four basic principles of Catholic social doctrine: the dignity of the human person, the common good, subsidiarity, and solidarity (para 5). We enter politics with the power of conscience. The bishops tell us, “Conscience is the voice of God resounding in the human heart, revealing the truth to us and calling us to do what is good while shunning what is evil” (para 17). God gives us the ability to know the difference between good and evil, the intelligence to grasp reality, the capacity to weigh moral options, and the virtues necessary to act. The document also says that, “Decisions about political life are complex and require the exercise of a well-formed conscience aided by prudence” (para 31). Our faith is our greatest gift. It is a gift God gives to us, personally, through others. We spend our lives immersed in it so that we can say with Saint Paul, “yet I live, no longer I, but Christ lives in me; insofar as I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God who has loved me and given himself up for me” (Galatians 2:20). Every gift evokes a response. I think of the iPad my wife, Barbara, gave to me for my birthday. Over months, even years, I learned what it could do. Facebook helped me keep up with our grandchildren. I could read books or watch movies on planes. Eventually, I had video calls over Zoom. The iPad is now obsolete, but what it gave me remains and I can build on these lessons. In a similar way, we deepen our faith. What does the dignity of the human person mean as we face the challenges of reproductive rights, poverty, migration, criminal justice, gun violence, and care for the earth? We must do the work. What is the reality we face? Where do we get our information? How do we account for bias and regrettably, misinformation? It is demanding work. As Jesus taught us, we need to “go the extra mile.” The bishops encourage the faithful – including themselves – “to examine candidate’s positions on issues affecting human life and dignity as well as issues of justice and peace, and they should consider candidates’ integrity, philosophy, and performance” (para 41). We need to “see beyond party politics, to analyze campaign rhetoric critically, and to choose” our political leaders “according to principle, not party affiliation or mere self-interest” (para 41). This gives us tremendous freedom and unlimited opportunity to build a civilization of love. First, we must see other Catholics as sisters and brothers in the Lord, not as political rivals. For example, “We are not factions, but one family of faith fulfilling the mission of Christ” (para 29). Second, we cannot be “single issue” voters. Our belief in the dignity of human life, from conception until natural death, “is not one issue among many,” and we cannot misuse these moral distinctions to dismiss or ignore “other serious threats to human life and dignity” (para 29). Each conversation, each issue facing the common good, is an opportunity – with charity and justice – to a renewed politics focused on principles rather than polls, the needs of the weak rather than the benefits of the strong, and the pursuit of the common good rather than the demands of narrow interests (para 61). God gives us life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Let us use these gifts to be faithful, responsible, and free followers of Jesus committed to a civilization of love this year and every year. Like the bishops tell us, “This kind of political participation reflects the social teaching of our Church and the best traditions of our nation” (para 62).
 We are neighbors to all. Each person is created in the image and likeness of God. Our Savior, Jesus Christ, calls us to love our neighbor. The parable of the Good Samaritan is clear, everyone is our neighbor (Luke 10:25-37). Pope Francis in his Encyclical Letter, Fratelli Tutti, which uses this parable as a guiding image, says: “If every human being possesses an inalienable dignity, if all people are my brothers and sisters, and if the world truly belongs to everyone, then it matters little whether my neighbor was born in my country or elsewhere” (125). We are called to love our neighbor as ourselves (cf. Mark 12:29). Love, according to St. Thomas Aquinas, is “willing the good of the other.” As Christians, we will the good of the other, even if others do not will our good. This is not the way the world tends to function, though. Too often, we divide in various ways. Such division is not what Christ wants of us, especially within the Church, as well as among all humanity. He prayed that we “may be one” (John 17:21). Pope Francis, in Fratelli Tutti, puts it this way: “Love, then, is more than just a series of benevolent actions. Those actions have their source in a union increasingly directed towards others, considering them of value, worthy, pleasing and beautiful apart from their physical or moral appearances. Our love for others, for who they are, moves us to seek the best for their lives. Only by cultivating this way of relating to one another will we make possible a social friendship that excludes no one and a fraternity that is open to all” (94). May the charity of Christ urge us on! In God, the Infinite Love, Fr. Frank
 “Serve the Lord with laughter.” It’s a quote from a favorite and incredibly popular saint that might surprise us, for the man who spoke these words was so deep, profound, and intentional that we might overlook the fact that he laughed. When we think of St. Padre Pio, we often instead focus on the deep wounds in his hands—the stigmata which he bore for 50 years—or his ability to levitate, speak with his guardian angel, read souls, or bilocate. Laughter seems too ordinary, perhaps, for sanctity. And yet, as a practical jokester and manager of mischief, I am drawn to this quote deeply—for I feel a personal apostolate of joy and am experiencing that call more starkly in a season in my life marked by exhaustion, stress, and transition. Some of my favorite saints and quotes from Scripture focus on the theme of joy. When asked to speak to a group at Theology on Tap several years ago, I chose “The Serious Call to Joy” as my topic. I love Psalm 34, which reads, “Look to him that you may be radiant with joy.” And I often meditate on Christ’s words to his disciples: “I have said these things to you, so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete” (Jn 15:11). Finally, a patron of our family is St. Philip Neri, who was lovingly nicknamed “Apostle of Joy.” My son John Philip was even born on his feast day and shares his name. When I think of what I want to be called after my death, I can’t think of anything better than that title given to St. Philip Neri (apart from, perhaps, being known as the Patron Saint of Bacon). To me, joy just seems like the natural fruit of holiness—a sure sign of a deep and profound relationship with Christ. Pope Francis himself has noted this—dedicating an entire encyclical to the joy of the Gospel. He made waves when publishing the encyclical because he said there was no room in evangelization for “sourpusses”—the first time any such term has appeared in a papal document. He explains, “Proclaiming Christ means showing that to believe in and to follow him is not only something right and true, but also something beautiful, capable of filling life with new splendor and profound joy, even in the midst of difficulties.” I think now of joy perhaps because I’m seeing so little of it in general. The world seems bogged down by burdens greater than we think we can bear. And being 8 months pregnant, I find myself a bit bogged down physically and emotionally, too. But, Pope Francis reminds us that the joy of Christ is possible even in the midst of our suffering and hardship. This does not diminish our suffering, nor does it erase or ignore it, but points out that Christian joy can transcend and transfigure suffering. So, when I came across Padre Pio’s quote on his feast day earlier this month, it was a powerful reminder of my call to laughter—or at least of my commitment to being an apostle of joy. Pope Francis continues, “Joy adapts and changes, but it always endures, even as a flicker of light born of our personal certainty that, when everything is said and done, we are infinitely loved.” (EG, 6) The knowledge that I am infinitely loved despite my frailty and littleness, especially in this season of pregnancy, is what beckons me ever onward. If I think of my life right now, I don’t know how else to keep going other than by laughing. I look down to find crumbs and stains dotting my bulging belly. My goal most days is not to waddle while walking. I find myself stopping mid-sentence because I forgot my train of thought or walking into a room to get something just to leave puzzled, muttering to myself. Turning over in bed practically requires the use of a crane. And I face my staircase each day with the determination of one climbing Mt. Everest. Humor aside, if we turn to Scripture, we find a love story saturated with calls and invitations to joy. From the Old Testament to the New, God speaks to us throughout salvation history because he wants to restore his creation to be “man fully alive.” For me, someone who is “fully alive” is a person of joy that radiates love wherever they go. As our world and society continue to navigate times of hardship, transition, and injustice, and as you personally continue to navigate your own crosses (whether they be staircases or not), I invite you to ask St. Padre Pio and other holy men and women to help teach you the secret of joy that comes from “the certainty that Jesus is with us and with the Father.” May we all become apostles and ambassadors of joy to a world thirsting for Christ’s love and may we find creative and nourishing ways to serve the Lord with laughter. As Pope Francis quotes Paul VI saying, “Let us recover and deepen our enthusiasm, that ‘delightful and comforting joy of evangelizing, even when it is in tears that we must sow… And may the world of our time, which is searching, sometimes with anguish, sometimes with hope, be enabled to receive the good news not from evangelizers who are dejected, discouraged, impatient or anxious, but from ministers of the Gospel whose lives glow with fervor, who have first received the joy of Christ.[6]’” *This post was originally published September 30th, 2021*
 St. Vincent Pallotti said, “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 always find God.” When I was in high school, this was used as a call and response to get the lunchroom or assembly to be quiet. In hindsight, it is pretty sad that we took such beautiful words and reduced them to a bit of a Pavlovian response to get high schoolers to zip it, but I digress. At the heart of Pallotti’s sentiment is this: God is everywhere (this is the Jesuit side of Pallotti coming out) and all we have to do to find him is open our eyes and our hearts and look for him. I have been sitting with this strange scene that is a mix of a drama movie and spiritual writing. I imagine two people talking after some form of suffering, maybe it is raining for cinematic effect, with one looking at the other and saying, “how can you endure _____ and still see love?” The other person, after a pause, responds, “how can I not? It is like opening your eyes on a clear day and trying not to see the sunlight. All there is around me is love. Every color, shape, and composite thing radiates the love of God. It is inexplicable, but I can’t really explain seeing the light either- it simply is. And so too, in an even deeper way, is the infinite love of God.” I have not played out the rest of the script, but I do not think I will write the whole movie anyways. We live in, to say it in highly a-theological language, a pretty messed up world. War, violence, natural disasters, poverty, and so much more make it hard to watch the news and, somewhat understandably, hard for people to look at that seemingly endless void of evil and see a God, let alone the Christian God who is infinite love. And yet, as friends and followers of Jesus, we are invited to open our eyes and to see love all around us. Yes, it is difficult, but it is necessary when our context is the cross and resurrection of Jesus Christ. In the last few weeks, I have faced the loss of a friend, accompanied some of my students through their own loss, and more of the normal ups and downs of life. It has not been easy, and yet when I open my eyes, once the dust settles and I have a chance to remember who I am and where I am, all I see is love. I am aware, though, that this is a conscious choice. The easiest thing is to see the suffering and to sit in it. As I said in my last post, suffering is a guarantee in life. If that is all we see, life looks bleak and even meaningless. If we see love, we realize that suffering can have meaning in our lives and that death and sin do not have the final say. Today and every day, regardless of where you find yourself, what you endure, and how you are feeling, let us follow Pallotti’s model and seek God, because when we do, we will realize that he is all around us and the only thing we can see if we choose to look for Him.
 On September 14th, we celebrate the feast day of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. In the Gospel of John, Jesus tells us: “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life from one's friends” (John 15:13). That love is never more evident than our Lord's passion and death on the Cross. By that Holy Cross, we have been redeemed. Jesus Christ foretold his Passion to the Apostles, instituted the Eucharist at the Last Supper, and fulfilled God's plan for human salvation at Calvary upon that Holy Cross. This, my friends, is the greatest love ever known to humankind; by the grace of God, we will come to know the fullness of God's love in eternity. The promise of eternal salvation was made possible upon that Cross and we, as Catholics, are called to pick up our cross and follow Christ daily. This is a very hard thing to accomplish in today's world. Jesus gave us the Holy Spirit at Pentecost to guide and strengthen us while following his commands. Paul tells us: “I have the strength for everything through him who empowers me” (Philippians 4:13). Jesus Christ empowers us with the Holy Spirit today just as he did with the Apostles. It is exactly that God-given power that we need in today’s often secular world to preach Christ crucified and “fight the good fight,” as St. Paul says. For if we profess Christ without recognizing and living his sacrifice on the Cross, we cannot be disciples of the Lord. Peter found that out when Jesus admonished him after the foretelling of his passion and death. I keep written on my desk calendar in my office and in my daily liturgical calendar, a Latin phrase that I think summarizes this idea: Lex orandi, Lex credendi, Lex vivendi - As we worship, So we believe, So we live. As we worship, so we believe, so we live. We must, through worship and prayer, “Love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind” (Matthew 22:37). We must believe all that Jesus has taught us, that he is our Lord and Savior, and that he suffered and died so that we may live. We must live out our faith in what Jesus has called us to do by spreading the good news and picking up our cross and following our Lord. This is not an easy task. It isn't easy being a Christian. Christ never said it would be easy. Being a Christian is not just being a member of a religion, it is our way of life. We live the faith Christ gave to us. When we struggle with this, when we get lazy or complacent with our prayer time, or if we need a reminder of just how much we are loved and what our calling is, we need only to gaze upon the Holy Cross. We can also reflect on the Prophet Isaiah, when he told us exactly what Christ has done for us and for the salvation of man: "Yet it was our pain that he bore, our sufferings he endured. We thought of him as stricken, struck down by God and afflicted, but he was pierced for our sins, crushed for our iniquity. He bore the punishment that makes us whole, by his wounds we were healed" (Isaiah 53:4-5). Brothers and sisters in Christ, we celebrate the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross.” Remember, worship, believe, and live in the glory of Christ crucified. *This post was originally published on September 11th, 2014* AuthorMark A. Straub Sr. is a member of the Knights of Columbus and president of the parish council of Our Lady of the Woods Parish in Woodhaven, Michigan.
 As you may know, we are in the final phase of the National Eucharistic Revival, “a three-year initiative sponsored by the Bishops of the United States to inspire and prepare the People of God to be formed, healed, converted, united, and sent out to a hurting and hungry world through a renewed encounter with Jesus in the Eucharist – the source and summit of our Catholic faith”. This initiative is a response to the Holy Father’s call for a “pastoral and missionary conversion which cannot leave things as they presently are” so that the Church in the United States might be “permanently in a state of mission” (Evangelii Gaudium, 25). This final phase known as the “Year of Mission” is a response to the preceding stages of diocesan and parish revival as well as the National Eucharistic Congress that was held July 17-21, 2024. One beautiful expression of this missionary dimension of the Eucharistic Revival was the National Eucharistic Pilgrimage that took place leading up to the National Eucharistic Congress. The first of its kind, and one of the largest Eucharistic processions in history, consisted of four routes beginning at the northern, southern, eastern, and western parts of the United States. The routes formed the shape of a cross as pilgrims journeyed with the Blessed Sacrament across the whole country, blessing over 6,000 miles of our nation. Participants in the pilgrimage attended Mass every day of their journey and had regular evenings of reflection and adoration. After traveling for about two months, all four branches of the Pilgrimage met in Indianapolis for the National Eucharistic Congress. I was privileged to join a moment of the National Eucharistic Pilgrimage along the northern route, known as the Marian route, which began at the headwaters of the Mississippi and wound its way through the midwestern United States. As the pilgrimage passed through Notre Dame, IN over the course of a weekend, I was able to attend a couple of the specially planned events. One was a musical entitled “Behold God’s Love: A Eucharistic Musical,” which drew inspiration from mystery plays performed on the feast of Corpus Christi (the Body and Blood of Christ) in the Middle Ages. These plays presented moments from salvation history. The other special event was Sunday Mass in the Basilica of the Sacred Heart followed by a procession around the university’s campus, culminating in Benediction offered from the steps of the Main Building. It was such a gift to join pilgrims, some of whom had been part of the route from the beginning, in a tangible manifestation of our life as “the pilgrim Church on earth”, the people of God on their way to their heavenly homeland. It provided an opportunity to reflect in a special way on one of the many names with which we refer to the Eucharist, one that evokes a certain aspect of the “inexhaustible richness of this sacrament” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1328). Viaticum, a Latin word that means provision for the journey, is a particularly fitting name to contemplate in the context of this pilgrimage, as the Eucharist is the spiritual food which sustains and nourishes us. Certainly, it was the source of sustenance for those making the cross-country journey over the course of several weeks. Yet this pilgrimage (and all pilgrimages) was undertaken to call to mind our common human condition as those marching onward “ ‘following the narrow way of the cross,’ toward the heavenly banquet” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1344), when we can all be seated at the table of the Kingdom of God. The Eucharist as viaticum gives us the graces we need for each day as we advance along our earthly pilgrimage. Each step of the National Eucharistic Pilgrimage reminds us that our entire lives and every place in which we find ourselves can be holy, consecrated by the presence of our Lord. When we receive the Lord in the Eucharist and accept the call to be sent forth on mission to every part of the world, we experience “a foretaste of that heavenly liturgy which is celebrated in the Holy City of Jerusalem toward which we journey as pilgrims, where Christ is sitting at the right hand of God, Minister of the sanctuary and of the true tabernacle” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1090). The National Eucharistic Pilgrimage, whether or not you were able to join it, shows a visible bond of communion that assures “the unity of the pilgrim Church” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 815) and reminds us that we do not have to journey to far-off holy places to go on mission. Every place our feet touch can be holy ground if, as we tread it, we seek to draw ever closer to our Eucharistic Lord, who longs to make himself present to us and to all, not only in the Mass, but in every moment.
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