 I am surprised to learn that Wikipedia has an article on “Catholic Guilt.” Growing up, the notion of “Catholic guilt” was in the air and often used in a humorous and dismissive way, “Catholic guilt, the gift that keeps on giving.” The word “guilt” only shows up in The Catechism of the Catholic Church four times although the concept of moral responsibility is prevalent throughout the catechism. It first appears in an article on indulgences (1471), then twice in the discussion of conscience (1784 and 1801), and finally in the teaching on the Fifth Commandment, you shall not kill, under the respect for health section, “Those incur grave guilt who, by drunkenness or a love of speed, endanger their own and others’ safety on the road, at sea, or in the air.” (2290) The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines guilt, a noun, as “the fact of having committed a breach of conduct, especially violating law and involving a penalty.” The verb is a feeling. Interestingly, guilt as a noun has been used since the 12th century; guilt was first used as a verb in 1971. It is important to distinguish guilt “as a breach of conduct” from shame, a form of sadness caused by guilt, some type of shortcoming, or impropriety. We are guilty because we have done a bad thing. The feeling of shame usually follows. In addition to acts of commission - such as drunk driving - there are also sins of omission like the priest on the road to Jericho who “passed by” the man left “half dead” along the side of the road in the Parable of the Good Samaritan. I say “usually” because sometimes conscience is blinded “through the habit of committing sin” or some type of rationalization that nullifies the “breach of conduct.” Some people feel no shame, no remorse, over the lies they tell because they tell so many lies. They cannot distinguish between a lie and truth. Or, we know drinking and driving is dangerous but we deny the danger because “it's late at night, the traffic is light, and I only have a couple of miles to go.” Guilt and shame are powerful gifts that confirm we have a conscience, that we can have a change of heart and behavior, that we can make amends, embrace God’s mercy, and live in hope. I have always found the story of John Newton (1725-1807) particularly moving. He captained the slave ship The Greyhound when, during a storm (March 1748), he cried out for deliverance. This was his conversion. He began to treat his slave better than others. Nevertheless, it was a serious illness that stopped him sailing in 1754. He went on to pursue theological studies and was ordained an Anglican priest in 1764. He wrote Amazing Grace in 1772. Eventually, in 1788, he published Thoughts upon the African Slave Trade and began his work with William Wilberforce who lead the abolition campaign in parliament. Newton died in 1807, the year the British Parliament passed the Slave Trade Act abolishing the slave trade in the British Empire. Newton’s conscience was awakened by a “grace that taught my heart to fear.” It would take him 40 years to completely repent of the evil he had done. Similar stories can be found in the prolife movement. Norma McCorvey, “Jane Roe” in the 1973 Roe v. Wade case legalizing abortion, became pro-life in 1995 and eventually converted to Catholicism in 1998. Or Abby Johnson, a clinic director for Planned Parenthood, who tells of her change of heart, and her conversion, in her 2010 book Unplanned. Finally, Dr. Bernard Nathanson, an abortion provider, had a change of heart due to ultrasound technology. He converted to Catholicism in 1996. Guilt, and its companion emotion of shame, can be powerful gifts that lead us to the truth and mercy of God. They can also become excessive and even neurotic. This is why the Sacrament of Reconciliation is so helpful because, even with venial sins, confession “helps us form our conscience, fight against evil tendencies, let ourselves be healed by Christ and progress in the life of the Spirit.” (1458). When guilt awakens our conscience, it is best to repent, confess our sins to a priest, do the penance given, and gratefully welcome the mercy of God. If we find ourselves ruminating about what we have done, or what we have failed to do, go to confession and talk to the priest. He will help us name our sin, let go of what does not belong to us, and make a good confession that leads to God’s mercy, our humility, and our hope. 'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, And grace my fears reliev'd; How precious did that grace appear The hour I first believ'd! (Amazing Grace, verse 2, by John Newton).
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 While Christmas is still some time away, the circumstances surrounding the birth of our Lord give reason for us to pause and reflect throughout the year on the great mystery of the Incarnation—the entering of God the eternal Son into time and the human experience. At the Christmas vigil, the Gospel proclamation involves tracing the ancestral lineage of Jesus as “the son of David, the son of Abraham” and the prophetic culmination of divine promises. Those specifications, similar to the grand announcement of The Nativity of the Lord from the Roman Martyrology, draw upon Sacred Scripture to formally declare the birth of Christ and squarely place His entry into time. The USCCB notes: “It begins with creation and relates the birth of the Lord to the major events and personages of sacred and secular history. The particular events contained in the announcement help pastorally to situate the birth of Jesus in the context of salvation history.” Reflecting on the genealogy of Jesus helps us to remember that he is part of a human family and was raised with particular role models and inherited traditions. It also reminds us that many people helped prepare the way for the coming of the Savior, playing greater or lesser roles for the glory of the Father’s plan. Two people who are part of Jesus’ genealogy, but passed over in Scripture are the parents of the Blessed Mother, Sts. Joachim and Ann. Factually, nothing about the parents of Mary arises from credible historic sources apart from their existence — not even their names of Joachim and Ann are verified! Although they are passed over in Scripture, Mary’s parents are critical as they represent generations who actively participated in the obligations of family and faith life while anticipating the coming of the Messiah. These saints maintained the spiritual and familial environment that nourished and inspired the Blessed Mother to always trust in God and to famously declare, “May it be done to me according to your word.” We find evidence of Mary’s strength of character and trust in the Lord in Scripture, especially Luke chapter 1 verses 28-55 and John chapter 2: Mary is steadfast in making decisions, active in prayer, obedient to the laws of her faith, calm through moments of crisis, and devoted to her relatives. It is not hard to see how such models of parenthood would likely have inspired Mary’s own upbringing of Jesus. We can wonder how much of Mary’s unyielding belief through Jesus’ ministry, Passion, and Resurrection — especially after seeing her son publically brutalized and murdered — was instilled in her by the fortitude and strength she saw modeled by her own parents during her childhood. What can we learn from the parents of the Blessed Mother? We may not all be grandparents, but we can still influence our families through our receptiveness to the perspectives, experiences, and lessons of those preceding us. Truly these are treasures of wisdom not to be taken lightly or ignored. Pope Francis has sought to convey this important observation. During his first World Youth Day as Pope, observing that Brazilians were celebrating Grandparents Day on the feast of Sts. Joachim and Ann, he reflected: "How precious is the family as the privileged place for transmitting the faith! … How important it is to have intergenerational exchanges and dialogue, especially within the context of the family … Children and the elderly build the future of peoples: children because they lead history forward, the elderly because they transmit the experience and wisdom of their lives." The family is often the first community of love, knowledge, and faith that we experience (CCC 2205). It is a great gift to preserve and strengthen that takes our time, talent, and commitment to keep strong. Yet, just as each of our family members are imperfect, so too is our own love despite our best intentions. At times we may lose patience amidst the demands of life. Or, more tragically, we may find ourselves amongst family members who do not know how to love, perhaps products of their own troubled upbringings. When we face difficulties within our families, or see hurt in other intergenerational families, let us remember that regardless of our human relations, we have been born into the spiritual family of the Church. How wonderful it is that despite our earthly circumstances each of us has been entrusted to call God our Father, Mary our Mother, Joachim and Ann our grandparents and Jesus our Brother and Savior. Sts. Joachim and Ann, pray for us! Questions for Reflection: Who are the people in my family who have taught me the beauty of the faith? Which members of my family need me to show them the love of Christ? *This blog was originally published July 25, 2018.* AuthorThomas Wong is a young professional in Washington, D.C
 A human being must always obey the certain judgment of his conscience. If he were deliberately to act against it, he would condemn himself. Yet it can happen that moral conscience remains in ignorance and makes erroneous judgments about acts to be performed or already committed. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, par. 1790) How many decisions do we make a day? There was a study done at Cornell University about food choices. In the study, participants estimated they made 15 food choices per day. When the researchers investigated the actual number of decisions they made, it was much higher - over 200. Were any of these an act of conscience? There is a humorous scene in the 1998 film, Dr. Dolittle, where Mrs. Parkus, who is allergic to shellfish, eats shellfish anyway and then comes to “her doctor” for medicine. Mrs. Parkus is making a moral judgement on what is good, and she is deciding that her enjoyment of shellfish is more important than her health and well-being. Mrs. Parkus is not considering the consequences her decision has on others - the time her care may take away from other, more serious patients, the drain on resources, as well as the demands on friends and family. Many of us know much more serious decisions loved ones make with life threatening consequences - alcohol, drugs, gambling, to name a few. Most of us, however, make lots of decisions throughout the day without considering their moral gravity. Do I hit the snooze button or not? What will I eat for breakfast? What emails will I read? Will I turn on the television, listen to a podcast, or catch up with the latest sports news? One commentator said our awareness is like having 30 tabs open on our computer browser and we are just jumping from one to another. For the most part, deciding cereal over eggs for breakfast is not a significant moral decision. How to respond to that last email from a colleague, or to reach out to an estranged sibling, or putting the phone away and focusing on your adult children struggling with work issues are moral issues. Fortunately, our Church helps us deal with these challenges. First, the Church recognizes that we are often “confronted by situations that make moral judgments less assured and decision difficult.” (par. 1787) and encourages us to “seriously seek what is right and good and discern the will of God expressed in divine law.” We know, in our gut, that it is better to reach out to our troublesome brother going through a tough time than to watch the football game. Second, our Church recognizes that we need to “interpret the data of experience and read the signs of the times.” We have the virtue of prudence, the advice of competent people, and the help of the Holy Spirit as well as the seven gifts the Spirit bestowed on us through confirmation. In short, we have a lot of help to deal with the moral judgments we need to make. Finally, the Church provides three rules that “apply in every case.” (par. 1789). It is never okay to do evil so that good may result from it. Second, the golden rule - do what you would want others to do for you. Finally, consider the consequence for “your brother” since it is not right to do anything that would make them stumble. In short, the end does not justify the means, treat others the way you want to be treated, and respect the conscience of others, even if you disagree with it. Recently, the readings of the day reminded us of the warning Jesus gave the Pharisees about paying “tithes of mint and rue” while paying “no attention to judgement and to love for God.” (Memorial of Saint Teresa of Jesus) It is easy to fall into a routine. We focus on the “little things” and ignore the big ones. Notice, Jesus says we need to do both. I often wonder if the opposite might be true for some of us. There is so much information - too many tabs open on our computer screens - that we accept, without questioning, the information we are being fed. I came across a video of Pope Leo XIV saying terrible things about someone only to realize the video was computer generated; it was fake. On the other hand, some politicians make mountains out of mole hills. Just because someone breaks a law - like crossing the border - does not mean they are a criminal. This is another reason why the Church encourages us to examine our conscience on a regular basis. It is good for us not only to examine what we have done - or the moral decisions we are facing - but also to examine our exercise of prudence, who we listen to, and how we engage the Holy Spirit and all the gifts the Spirit has given us. We must follow our judgement of conscience. We must also be humble, self-aware, and prudent. We may have made a mistake. When we do, we confess them, make restitution, and learn from them.
 “Practice patience toward everyone and especially toward yourself. Never be disturbed because of your imperfections but always get up bravely after a fall.” -St. Francis de Sales A few years ago, I had the opportunity to travel to Rome, Italy. To this day, the pilgrimage showers graces into my life. One day on the pilgrimage, we went to the Basilica of Sant’Agostino and prayed in front of a painting by Caravaggio called the Madonna di Loreto. In it, Caravaggio paints dirty, unkempt pilgrims kneeling in front of Our Lady and Jesus. Two years later, the image is still embedded in my mind. The Rome pilgrimage seemed to be a small microcosm of my life. My struggles and weaknesses were the same struggles and weaknesses I encountered back at home and work, yet in Rome they had a different weight. My frustrations with my weaknesses were still there, but it wasn’t until I was looking up at that painting that I realized that the pilgrimage was a process. My sin and weakness, my toil, my striving for sanctity—all of this was a process. The walking, the waiting, the impatience, the stumbling, the praying, the joy, the suffering—all was part of my pilgrimage and contributed to the end or goal: sanctity. I found myself praying for patience, and was informed by a fellow pilgrim that the root word of patience is “to suffer.” I found this definition fitting for the journey. Today, we are all on a pilgrimage aimed toward Heaven. In my walk, I find myself quickly frustrated at my stumbles, my repeated sin (that for some reason I just cannot get over), my judgment, my lack of love, and the list could go on. This frustration with the pace of my walk on the pilgrimage to salvation is not helpful for the walk—it is inhibiting. My walk requires patience with others and with myself. Looking at that painting by Caravaggio, I realized that we are the pilgrims—dirty from the journey, imperfect, on our knees asking Our Lady for the gift of her Son. He receives all of us as we are on this walk, and patience in the process will lend to an easier recovery after a stumble, a lighter load to carry. Let us grant ourselves patience throughout our pilgrimage to our end, Jesus Christ. As St. Teresa of Calcutta reminds us, “We have only today. Let us begin.” *This blog was originally published October 5, 2017.* AuthorElizabeth Pawelek received her Master's in Leadership for the New Evangelization at the Augustine Institute in Denver, Colorado.
 This summer, I had the wonderful opportunity to make a pilgrimage to Rome for the Jubilee of Youth. This certainly was one of the most incredible weeks of my life; not only was I in Rome and Europe as a whole for the first time, but I was there for a Jubilee Year, something that usually happens only every twenty-five years. The city was overflowing with pilgrims; everywhere you looked there would be a bus full of people from different countries all meeting in Rome. It was here, amidst a packed city with tiring cobblestone streets that I encountered St. Gaspar del Bufalo. Tucked away in Rome, just a short walk from the famous Trevi fountain, there is a small church on a street corner called St. Maria in Trivio. In this little church, which rivals many churches here in beauty, there is a beautiful side altar dedicated to St. Gaspar del Bufalo, in which his tomb is encased. The tomb is designed as a statue of St. Gaspar, presumably in his final moments. He is pictured raising his head and looking at the crucifix he is holding. In his final moments, St. Gaspar looks up and sees that instrument of man’s redemption by which the Lord’s Precious Blood was shed for the redemption of the whole world. Our chaplain surprised us by saying that we would be having Mass on this very altar. I had never heard of St. Gaspar before, but his story intrigued me. After hearing about him, I was inspired by his devotion to the Precious Blood. He was a priest in early 19th century Rome who had a tireless commitment to the poor and the preaching of the Gospel. What distinguished him, however, was his strong devotion to the Precious Blood of Christ. Like the Precious Blood, St. Gaspar poured himself out in service to God and His Church, and he called people to deeper conversion to Christ through devotion to His Precious Blood. St. Gaspar was no stranger to turmoil; he lived through Napoleon and was a missionary in the Papal States during a time of great banditry. Through all of this, he fought not with physical arms, but with a strong love of Christ and His Precious Blood. Following the example of St. Gaspar, it is important to reflect upon the Blood of Christ and draw closer to the mystery of it. The Blood of Christ, the Blood of God-incarnate was shed for all of us. One drop of that blood would have been sufficient for the redemption of the human race, but, as a sign of God’s inexhaustible love, Christ poured out His blood abundantly. St. Gaspar reminds us that this Precious Blood was poured out for you, for me. Despite our sins and our failings, we must be ever conscious of the fact that Christ loves us so deeply that He poured out His Blood for us. May we learn from the example of St. Gaspar and draw deeper to the mystery of the Precious Blood of Jesus learn of His great love from “the sprinkling of his Blood, in which lies all our salvation.” St. Gaspar del Bufalo, pray for us! AuthorRyan Corey worked as a summer associate at the Catholic Apostolate Center, where he assisted on the newsletter, blog, podcasts, videos, and various other projects. Ryan is a student at The Catholic University of America studying Philosophy and Theology. He is involved with Campus Ministry, the Knights of Columbus council, and he is currently serving as a member of the College Councils Advisory Board for the Knights. Ryan is originally from Chester County, Pennsylvania.
 Question 6 in the Baltimore Catechism asks, “Why did God make you?” and is answered quite simply: “God made me to know Him, to love Him, and to serve Him in this world, and to be happy with Him for ever in heaven.” This answer reveals a few things about the way we are called to live our lives: that our lives should chiefly be directed towards God and that the result of a life oriented towards God is eternal happiness, or God Himself. We are made to know God, to love God, and to serve God. The Lord is our focus and our destination. Now does this mean that we should never think of ourselves or that God does not desire our happiness during our earthly life? Of course not. But it does remind us that an earthly happiness is not our ultimate end and that the happiness we do experience is first and foremost rooted in God. St. Vincent de Paul is a saint whose life exemplified this. He was born to a poor farming family in rural France towards the end of the 16th century. Early in his priesthood he served as chaplain for a French noble family, providing spiritual direction, tutoring, and distributing their money to the poor. Here we begin to see that despite his connections to the upper class, he also had a heart that ached for the poor. Over time he founded several organizations and religious orders to support his work with the poor, including the men’s Congregation of the Mission and, with the support of St. Louise de Marillac, the Daughters of Charity. St. Vincent recognized that if he wished to know, love, and serve God, he must also know, love, and serve the poor. This was a devotion he spread through the preaching missions of his religious order and the numerous talks he gave to his spiritual brothers. In writing to his fellow Missioners he reminded them, “Our main purpose in life is to love God and to testify our love by our service. Let us therefore beg of our Lord, that He grant us the grace to share His ardent charity, saying with Him, ‘My food is to do the will of him that sent me’... (Jn 4:34).” For those of us that have not dedicated our lives to service through our careers or the charism of a religious community, we are still called to emulate St. Vincent’s love of the poor. When speaking about the universal call to holiness, the Second Vatican Council document Lumen Gentium explains that “all the faithful of Christ of whatever rank or status…must devote themselves with all their being to the glory of God and the service of their neighbor” (Lumen Gentium, 40). This reminds us that there is no separation between love of God and service to our neighbor. The Church recognizes the multiplicity of our vocations and the countless ways we are invited to answer the call to service. In St. Vincent’s words: “It matters little in which place or in what capacity we serve, provided we serve Him faithfully; and we shall do just that if we allow Him to live and act in us.” Perhaps you are single and have more time to devote to service in your community. What local organizations that support the poor can you work with? How can you be particularly attentive to the needs of your friends? Or if you are married and busy with children, how can you serve your family in your own home? Are there opportunities your family can take advantage of to serve the poor together? Living a life of charity and a life with God is not always easy to do. Yet, it is not one we are asked to fulfill on our own. St. Vincent reminds us, “If we persevere in charity, if we attain salvation, it is to God and prayer that we owe our accomplishment.” Thankfully for us, God’s grace is always providing for what we lack: “By means of these sacraments of Christian initiation, [we] thus receive in increasing measure the treasures of the divine life and advance toward the perfection of charity” (CCC 1212). St. Vincent de Paul, you remind us to “thank God that He has been pleased to accept our small services.” Intercede for us that we may have the grace to persevere in love of Him and love of our neighbor, and so one day join you in Eternal Love. *All St. Vincent de Paul quotes are taken from Virtues and Spiritual Doctrine of Saint Vincent De Paul AuthorErin Donn is a campus minister at an all-girls Catholic high school and lives in Washington, DC.
 Today we celebrate the feast of St. Lorenzo Ruiz, the protomartyr of the Philippines. A professional calligrapher, he was falsely accused of murder and ultimately hanged to death in Japan. Despite his end, St. Lorenzo remained faithful to God, exclaiming his last words: “I am a Catholic and wholeheartedly do accept death for God. Had I a thousand lives, all these to Him shall I offer.” During St. Lorenzo’s canonization, St. John Paul II said this of martyrs: “In their sufferings, their love and imitation of Jesus reached its fulfillment, and their sacramental configuration with Jesus, the one Mediator, was brought to perfection.” When I read about St. Lorenzo’s life, I became fascinated by the last moments of a martyr’s life. St. John Paul II noted that these last moments marked the fulfillment of their love and imitation of Jesus. A martyr’s love for Christ is so marked in the moment they offer their life that the severity of their situation does not have any bearing on the love that burns in their heart. Out of curiosity, I came across the last words of saints who had an impact on my own life: St. Paul the Apostle: “I am even now ready to be sacrificed, and the time of my dissolution is at hand. I have fought a good fight; I have finished my course; I have kept the faith. As for the rest, there is laid up for me a crown of justice which the Lord, the just judge, will render to me in that day: and not only to me, but to them also that love His coming.” St. Dominic de Guzman: “Have charity one for another, guard humility, make your treasure out of voluntary poverty.” and “Do not weep, I shall be of more use to you after death than I ever did in life.” St. Therese of Lisieux: “I have reached the point of not being able to suffer any more, because all suffering is sweet to me. My God, I love you.” St. Teresa of Calcutta: “I love you Jesus.” St. Pier Giorgio Frassati: "May I breathe forth my soul in peace with you" Read the last accounts of saints - it's a humbling experience to see that, despite the different circumstances their earthly life ended in, similar themes and sentiments are shared. All accounts share a testimony of love, of going to the Father. The present moment fades, but what they take with them is a clarity of thought, one of resolve and peace. One beauty of our Catholic tradition is the opportunity to read the accounts of holy saints throughout history who have courageously offered their lives for the Church. Fundamentally, their lives were offered out of love, and that burning love preserved them in the toughest moment of their earthly life. Their suffering in the end, redeemed through Christ, was the highest expression of their love to God. We can turn to the cross as that reminder: The cross is the unique sacrifice of Christ, the “one mediator between God and men” [1 Timothy 2:5]. But because in his incarnate divine person he has in some way united himself to every man, “the possibility of being made partners, in a way known to God, in the paschal mystery” is offered to all men (CCC #618). As we reflect upon the saints’ lives and come to learn about their last moments, let us call upon their intercession, that we too might meet those tough moments in our lives with the same love burning in our hearts. Our lives will take us on different paths, but back to God. If we stay true to the path of love, may our last words echo a similar breath of love and peace. All you Holy Saints of God, pray for us!
 “God withholds Himself from no one who perseveres.” –St. Teresa of Avila, Doctor of Prayer Perseverance always sounds nice; you hear the word and think “yes--I can do this!” Lately, I’ve been struggling to persevere in prayer. To combat this, I’ve found my American industriousness kicking in—resulting in my desire to impose on myself a strict prayer routine akin to that of St. Teresa’s (“If I just work hard enough, I’ll be levitating like St. Teresa in no time!”) only to wonder why it all seems to fall apart after 2 days. Discouragement soon follows, and I feel like I’m back at the beginning. I have fallen into this trap several times since I started taking my spiritual life seriously a few years ago. At the beginning, persevering in prayer and good spiritual habits can seem daunting. But the need for perseverance is a normal part of our spiritual journey. Sometimes prayer comes easily, sometimes we struggle to quiet our minds. As St. Josemaria Escriva said, “As the flames of your first enthusiasm die down, it becomes difficult to advance in the dark. —But that progress is all the more reliable for being hard. And then, when you least expect it, the darkness vanishes, and the enthusiasm and light return. Persevere! (Furrow No. 789)” It wasn’t until I heard the same advice from my spiritual director for the 100th time, combined with many Catholic podcasts and YouTube Videos, advice from friends, and books, that it finally dawned on me: you can and should tailor your spiritual life to fit your state in life and your personality! In doing so, you will find the strength to persevere. I made the mistake of thinking that the only way to grow in holiness was to follow the exact path of my favorite saints, only to end up frustrated as to why it wasn’t working or giving me any peace. After this struggle, I’ve learned four simple tips that have helped me develop better habits and persevere (and grow!) through a better spiritual routine.
As St. Francis de Sales also said, “Do not wish to be anything but what you are, and try to be that perfectly.” Get to know yourself, what spirituality works for you, and persevere! *This blog post is reposted and origionally published July 2, 2019.* AuthorMary DePuglio is a government contractor living in Yorktown, Virginia. She holds a Master's Degree in Russian Language and Area Studies from the University of Wisconsin, Madison.
 Last week, the Union of Catholic Apostolate (UAC) held its seventh General Assembly in Frascati, Italy. The UAC is an international public association of the faithful that has its roots in the original foundation of St. Vincent Pallotti in 1835 which had lay people, religious, and clergy as co-equal and co-responsible members in communion with one another. The UAC is led by lay people, religious, and clergy. The recently elected international president is a lay woman, while the vice-president is a Pallottine priest. The members of the General Coordination Council are international and come from all states of life. This association is unique in the Church and tries to live well the call to communion and mission in the way that St. Vincent Pallotti intended. Each of us, not just those who are members of the UAC, are called to live communion and mission. Communion with God and one another, and living the mission of Christ in daily life, are what each baptized person is called to do. St. Vincent Pallotti fully understood this. The members of the Union of Catholic Apostolate embrace this understanding. The Catholic Apostolate Center serves the Union of Catholic Apostolate as well as the Church through fostering greater collaboration, communion, and co-responsibility through our many resources that assist all in going forth as apostles on mission. As a Church, we are still in need to come more fully to the understanding that all are co-responsible for the mission of Christ and his Church. We need to accompany one another more deeply into this understanding. This is the central focus of the reflections of the recent Synods. As we move into the implementation phase of the Synod on Synodality, we need to commit even more fully to living the mission of Christ and assisting others in doing so as well. May the charity of Christ urge us on! In God, the Infinite Love, Fr. Frank
 As a former high school theology teacher and perpetual theology student, I like to think of myself as a Catholic theology nerd. I like to write papers on obscure, confusing Old Testament Bible passages that I’ve studied, and I love sharing what I learn about God, His Word, and His Church with others. So, when I became a parent and my infant son did every single thing a baby could do during the one hour Mass (including pooping LOUDLY during the consecration), I was both shocked and frustrated. ‘I just want to pray!’ I exclaimed internally. This was my one hour per week to get out of the house and experience the beauty of Mass! I thought: ‘Finally, it was my turn to be encouraged and spiritually fed.’ Instead, I fed someone else. Fast forward four years, and my husband and I have three children under 5 years old in the pew with us, and our funny stories about the things that have happened during Mass could fill a book and make you laugh till your sides hurt! From chasing a toddler track star down the main aisle to a child bursting into tears after receiving Lenten ashes saying between sobs, “But I don’t want dirt on my face!,” no Sunday Mass with the Ferguson family is ever boring. Sometimes, just sometimes, I’m able to detach from my embarrassment long enough to laugh. More often than I’d like to admit, I find myself tired, weary, and overall just at a loss for how to survive Mass with my little saints. Recently, the Holy Spirit filled me with an idea; ‘Ask other moms what works for them.’ So, I did. I polled every mother of small children I knew, and what I got in return was nothing short of pure mom genius! In speaking about Mass with small children, many of the moms pointed out that the frustrations we parents often feel in Mass are normal and reasonable. One mom said, “it's OK to feel sad about [how different Mass is with children compared to going to Mass before having kids] because it is frustrating and can start to feel like spiritual dryness if you aren't able to devote the same amount of attention to [Mass] as before.” “This is a new season of life to get used to,” a different mom explained, “and you probably won’t be able to pray the same way at Mass as you did before motherhood. Accepting that means less frustration, … There will come a time again when the kids are older and aren’t as needy and you can focus on the Mass again.” Mass as a parent with young children will not (and should not) look the same as Mass when you were a single adult. It could be that for many Sundays, we parents just won’t hear the homily, or we miss the readings and the Eucharistic prayer because someone got fussy or needed to be changed, or said they needed to go potty for the fourth time in an hour. During these years, still another explained, “You may not "get much" out of Mass for yourself. Think of it as a season of "giving much" at Mass. Don't guilt trip yourself over being distracted by your kids, just offer it to the Lord. In a way, you are offering more to Jesus by coming to Him when it is difficult and you don't get much spiritual sweetness - not to mention that you are bringing Him your children, the most precious gift you can bring to the Church!” Personally, I like to imagine the rest of the parish community saying, ‘You care for that precious baby or toddler, we’ll handle the Mass responses.’ After all, everyone present prays the Mass together, as a community, so when my attention is divided, someone in the pew next to me can focus on my behalf, and pray on my behalf. Still another mom put it this way: Caring for your children during Mass “is your mission work. It’s okay if they whine and talk, … They’re little and can only handle so much. They’re going to have times where it’s too much! … Sometimes it’s okay if [it feels like] the only good thing about Mass was that you showed up.” How powerful it is to ponder the difficulty overcome by parents who continue to show up to Mass, week after week, when they know it will be a struggle! Acknowledging the challenge and continuing to bring your children to Mass is truly a commendable endeavor! The Greatest ‘Catholic Mom Wins’ Overall, I received responses back from 17 young moms with littles ranging from newborns to toddlers across half a dozen states. When asked, “What tips or tricks do you have that helped make attending Mass with little ones easier?” From parent to parent, here’s their best advice:
 A well-formed conscience is upright and truthful. It formulates its judgments according to reason, in conformity with the true good willed by the wisdom of the Creator (Catechism of the Catholic Church, paragraph 1783). When was the last time you examined your conscience? Typically, we think of an examination of conscience as a way to prepare for the Sacrament of Penance. Way back when, as a second grader at Our Lady of Mercy, I was taught an examination of conscience that was based on the Ten Commandments with a strong emphasis on lying, stealing, and obeying your parents. If it has been a while, the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) offers seven different types of the Examination of Conscience - some focusing on state of life such as childhood, young adults, single persons, and married persons and others used specific themes such as Catholic Social Teaching, the public square, and the Ten Commandments. Essentially, the Examination of Conscience helps us prepare for a good confession by reviewing our past behavior “in light of the Word of God.” (Catechism 1454). What is the opposite of an Examination of Conscience? It is the formation of conscience. In the formation of conscience, we are not concerned about the past. Our focus is on the present and the future. What is our ability to understand what is good and true but also what is false and evil? We look at the way we think about moral issues. Are we stepping back, looking at the situation in a rational way, or are we being impulsive? Or, are we being so calculating, that we ignore the reasons of the heart? We are also mindful of our relationship with God. Do we see God as a distant “power” or a companion beckoning us to come closer in the deepest recesses of our hearts? Catholics believe that the education of conscience - the beginning of formation - is a life-long task (Catechism 1784). There are basic steps in any type of education - whether it is mathematics, grammar, or conscience. Benjamin Bloom (1913-1999), a prominent educational psychologist, outlined six steps or levels. Being aware of these levels can help us educate our conscience. Remembering: This is the most basic level and it requires memorization. Do I have the Ten Commandments memorized? Can I recall the Beatitudes? Do I have a Catholic definition of “sin” and “grace” or the great theological virtues of faith, hope and love? This is the basic language of conscience. The Catechism of the Catholic Church is the best source on “the basics.” Understanding: I need to know that “coveting my neighbor’s goods” is one of the Ten Commandments and be able to explain it to myself and others. Is coveting more like envy or is it more like plotting? I may like, or even want, my neighbor’s new car, but is that really a sin? On the other hand, if I am obsessed with owning the “newest” model, then I am sinning. Applying: Once we understand the basic concepts of right and wrong, we need to apply them to new situations. Am I coveting my sister’s beautiful table setting? As a business owner, am I spending millions on a new computer system because my competition has it? As a country, are we coveting resources in another country to the point we ignore its integral human development? Analyzing: It is helpful to compare how I think through one evil compared to another, such as stealing and bearing false witness. Do I use a similar process? Do I pull from different scripture passages? Do I rely on the Catechism for one and a theologian for another? Evaluating: We may live by axioms, such as “honesty is the best policy.” Is that always the case? What is honesty? Is withholding information the same as lying? Does the context matter? Creating: This takes various concepts - such as honesty, stealing, and coveting - and creates a new synthesis to see the good and avoid evil. Pope Leo XIV, and other church leaders and theologians, are creating a moral response to artificial intelligence. Is it honest to present AI generated work as my own? Is it stealing to train AI with copyright materials? Educating our conscience is the first step towards its formation. We need to know and understand the basic building blocks of our faith in order to apply them to moral questions we face. It is not difficult, but it takes time, concentration, some research, and creativity. One way to begin is to think about a movie you have seen. What was the moral question that person faced? What were their values? How would I, as a Catholic, consider their situation? Another suggestion is to take time just to read and ponder the moral teachings of the Church. Could we take an hour on a Sunday afternoon? Just like exercise, the more we educate and form our conscience, the easier it will be to make tough decisions in our daily lives. We will build virtue. God has given us the ability to know the difference between good and evil. We examine our conscience to see if our thoughts and actions align with the Word of God. We educate our conscience so we know, understand, and can live “upright and truthful” lives.
 John: 15:9-11: As the Father loves me, so I also love you. Remain in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and remain in his love. “I have told you this so that my joy might be in you and your joy might be complete.” In today’s Gospel, we are given a clear picture of how we can live life in the joy of Christ. In order that our “joy might be complete” Jesus tells us that we must imitate his love for the Father. Furthermore, Jesus references clear and simple guidelines on how to remain in his love, the commandments. In my own life, I believe the key here is the need for us to imitate Christ. We often say that imitation is the highest form of flattery, and that could not be more true. Our goal should be union with God in heaven and the easiest way to achieve that union is by living a Christ-like life. Christ already loves us dearly, but how enamored is he when he sees us loving as he taught us! Christ yearns to be in relationship with us, for us to know him by loving like him. Mother Teresa had a beautiful devotion to Christ on the cross. When he exclaimed, “I thirst,” she interpreted this as Christ’s thirst for souls. He has an intimate longing for each of us to “remain in his love,” to know him and to love him. Therefore, when we imitate the love of Christ, we not only acknowledge the truth of his actions, but also are called to further relationship with God. It is crucial for us to remain in Christ’s love and in relationship with him because we thirst for him as well. Our world longs for perfection and satisfaction, but we will never be able to achieve this as the world sees it. The perfect body, the perfect job, the perfect grades, house, family, car – none of these can satisfy us like we often think it will. Christ knows this because he knows us intimately – “You formed my inmost being; you knit me in my mother’s womb” (Ps 139:13). He did not merely make us for this short life on earth – Christ made us to live eternally with him in heaven! Christ calls us to live this calling as citizens of heaven and to follow his commandments so that we may know him and his infinite joy. Let us pray with St. Paul that we may not be conformed to this age, but that we may be transformed by the renewal of our minds to the way of heaven, that we may discern what is the will of God, “what is good and pleasing and perfect” (Romans 12:2). In conforming ourselves to Christ, in imitating his actions of love to all people and to the Father, by obeying the commandments laid out before us, we are called to be in relationship with him and thus take a most important step on the journey toward our salvation. It is important that we recognize the examples around us in Mother Teresa, St. John Paul II, our mothers and fathers, but it is also important to recognize that their holiness and their passion for the Lord steps from an imitation of Christ’s life. As the Easter season comes to a close in the next couple weeks, let us make a concerted effort to imitate Christ’s love and to conform ourselves to him. *This is a repost and was originally published May 22, 2014.* AuthorNicholas Shields is a graduate of The Catholic University of America with a degree in Mathematics.
 I can barely imagine what slavery was like and, when I get even a glimpse, it freezes my soul. The horrors of the Holocaust became more real to me having read Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning (1946) during college. I found the cruelty of the camps unbelievable and yet I was drawn to Frankl’s quest for meaning, even in the face of unimaginable suffering. It was not until 2016, at a conference for missionaries in Cincinnati, Ohio, during a visit to the National Underground Railroad Freedom Center that the savagery of chattel slavery became real to me. Inside the center, there is a restored slave house. Few, small windows. The slaves were always in chains, even inside the house. The children slept upstairs. Since then, I have learned a lot about slavery. I know about cotton, a cash crop that made fortunes for plantation owners, and fed the textile mills of New England, by treating human beings as beasts of burden. Dawn to dusk, picking cotton as quickly as I can to meet my quota and avoid, at least for today, a whipping. I can barely imagine. It freezes my soul. As Americans, any conversation about freedom will evoke some image, some reference, to slavery. Whether we like it or not, it is part of our shared history. The good news is that our history - both personally and collectively - does not determine who we are. There is a freedom that God has given us in and through our conscience that no one - no slave master, no occupying army, no political leader - can take away from us. Man has the right to act in conscience and in freedom so as personally to make moral decisions. “He must not be forced to act contrary to his conscience. Nor must he be prevented from acting according to his conscience, especially in religious matters. (Catechism, 1782) One way to think about freedom is to make a distinction between “freedom from” and “freedom for.” Jesus, famously, said “you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:32). For the people of his day, “freedom from” was from slavery in Egypt. Jesus and his people saw themselves as free people even though their country was occupied by Romans. The most severe slavery was sin. “Amen, amen, I say to you, everyone who commits sin is a slave of sin.” So, what is our “freedom for?” Slavery. Saint Paul explains this in his Letter to the Romans. “Do you not know that if you present yourselves to someone as obedient slaves, you are slaves of the one you obey, either of sin, which leads to death, or of obedience, which leads to righteousness? But thanks be to God that, although you were once slaves of sin, you have become obedient from the heart to the pattern of teaching to which you were entrusted. Freed from sin, you have become slaves of righteousness.” (Romans 6: 16-18). Conscience gives us the freedom to totally surrender ourselves to the perfect good, God, and all the other goods that lead us to God. We are free to become slaves of the good. Rather than an examination of conscience, we may need an examination of freedom. The first question is to consider the ways I am held captive. Am I enslaved by a pursuit of wealth, honor, pleasure? Have I said “no” to someone in need because I have put my own passions before them? Perhaps I am blinded by some assumptions about other people. Have I dehumanized whole groups of people because I fear I will lose something? Am I beholden to a political or religious leader because, frankly, I just do not want to do the work of conscience? The second question is “what is ‘the good’ slavery gives me?” Can someone be forced to love me? Can I be forced to love someone? Can I truly love someone unless I am free? What about happiness or joy? Can anyone force me to be happy? Isn’t joy a gift given by loving freely? What about creativity? Can someone force us to be creative? Sure, our creativity can be shut down, even cancelled, but can they truly rob me of the creative impulse, the need to create the good, the beautiful, the true? God has given us the power to know the difference between good and evil. We desire freedom from evil and freedom for the good. Once again, Saint Paul says it best. “But now that you have been freed from sin and have become slaves of God, the benefit that you have leads to sanctification, and its end is eternal life. For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 6: 22-23) Many of us feel we are living in uncertain times. So many things are all happening at once - wars around the world, famine, political unrest, climate change. It is as if there are dark clouds on the horizon and they get darker, and closer, everyday. Once again, we can turn to Saint Paul. “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8: 38-39).
 These last few months have been an exciting time for the Church as we see the papacy of Pope Leo XIV blossom. There has also been renewed interest in St. Augustine and his spirituality. I found myself learning more about Pope Leo XIV’s episcopal motto and coat of arms. His episcopal motto is, “In Illo uno unum,” which translates to “In the One, we are one.” The pope has frequently remarked how unity and communion are essential to his papacy, akin to the charism of the Order of Saint Augustine. On this feast of St. Augustine, I personally reflect on how we might personalize this motto in our own lives. Focus on What Unites We see and experience division in our society, whether we encounter it in the news, see it in our own community, or personally experience it. The hard reality is that it takes time and work to foster unity and build communion. It is easier to tear something down rather than build something up. If you ever find yourself in a situation where you disagree with someone or find it difficult to get along with another, try to focus on the commonalities. I always hang on to the quote from C.S. Lewis in The Four Loves, “Friendship…is born at the moment when one man says to another ‘What! You too? I thought that no one but myself…” Focusing on what unites opens the doors for relationship-building, particularly listening and understanding. Keep Christ at the Center Focusing on what unites is a path towards reconciliation and building human fraternity. However, our efforts are in vain if in the end we think that the ability to do so or the opportunity came because of our own doing. The soon to be saint, Bl. Pier Giorgio Frassati, once said (writing a letter to his good friend Isidoro Bonin), “By yourself you can do nothing, but if you have God as the center of your every action, then yes, you will reach the goal.” Keeping Christ at the center means believing that Christ is both the reason and the end in our pursuit of goodness and truth. If we only focus inwardly on ourselves, then we lose sight of the “why” of what we are doing. Only through Christ do we come to realize the purpose and significance of our actions. Let Go and Let God This is a phrase I first encountered at a retreat offered through my college campus ministry. Ever since then, I hung on to it. Learning to let go is difficult. For us, it may seem like a sign of defeat, that we have given up or lost to something or someone. It’s not a comfortable feeling. Letting go is hard. Dorothy Day provides a great perspective on learning to let go, taking an excerpt from her book Loaves and Fishes: We can be responsible only for the action of the present moment but can beg for an increase of love in our hearts that will vitalize and transform all our individual actions, and know that God will take them and multiply them, as Jesus multiplied the loaves. Letting go and letting God means doing what we can in the moment and leaving the rest in God’s hands. If the work we do comes from a place of charity, then God will bring it to fruition. On this feast of St. Augustine and personally reflecting on Pope Leo XIV’s episcopal motto, “In the One, we are one,” let us keep in mind three ways to make this motto part of our daily life: focus on what unites, keep Christ at the center, and let go and let God. Amid challenges in our lives, let us focus on what unites and let that be a bridge to better human understanding. In our pursuit of goodness and truth, let us keep Christ at the center so that his light and grace gives meaning and purpose to our actions. Finally, let us challenge ourselves to let go more often and have more confidence in our trust in God, knowing that we have done enough, and that God’s will be done. I’d like to close with “The Prayer of Jesus” from John 17: 9-11: I pray for them. I do not pray for the world but for the ones you have given me, because they are yours, and everything of mine is yours and everything of yours is mine, and I have been glorified in them. And now I will no longer be in the world, but they are in the world, while I am coming to you. Holy Father, keep them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one just as we are one.
 “Dear young people, the happiness you are seeking, the happiness you have a right to enjoy has a name and a face: it is Jesus of Nazareth, hidden in the Eucharist. Only He gives the fullness of life to humanity!” – Pope Benedict XVI, Address to Young People, Apostolic Journey to Cologne on the Occasion of the 20th World Youth Day Growing up as a cradle Catholic, it was always easy to take the Eucharist for granted. Even though I recognized the true presence, it was tempting to see Holy Communion, adoration, and Jesus being present in the tabernacle as a bonus to the faith and not the foundation of the way I lived my life. Now that I serve in youth ministry, I see that this line of thinking too often becomes the norm for young Catholics. But what happens when young Catholics live a life centered around the Eucharist, when they allow themselves to be consumed by Christ, finding complete freedom in complete surrender? They begin to live in their identity as beloved sons and daughters. I got to witness this transformation firsthand this summer serving as a missionary with Catholic Youth Summer Camp. Every week, I watched middle school and high school students meet Jesus in the Eucharist for the first time, experiencing His love and feeling the truth of their identity in a real, tangible way. And every week after these experiences, there was a shift in the way these kids lived their lives. It was as if they were no longer afraid of being judged or not accepted by the teenagers around them; instead, they were confident in the sufficiency of the love they felt from God. When the campers started to recognize and feel the truth of their identity as sons and daughters, when they realized that they can look into Jesus in the Eucharist and physically see that truth, they no longer cared about the opinions of the people around them and would do whatever brought them joy. This often looked like the small but life-changing steps of fully entering into the Mass and worship, taking times of prayer seriously, and having childlike fun and joy throughout the day. Throughout the summer, I began to realize that the experience that these teenagers had in their first moment of encounter with Jesus, the childlike joy and freedom they experienced, is not an experience for them—or for children—alone. All of us, including You and I, are all seen by the Father as His beloved daughters and sons, and He desires to show us that truth and the love He holds for us in a real, tangible way through the Eucharist. Every time we receive Jesus into our bodies, every time we spend time gazing into His face in adoration, we give Him the opportunity to remind us of how unconditionally loved we are, how we belong with Him and nothing else. These truths give us the freedom to not fear what waits in the world, nor fear the chains of sin or worldliness. They help us recognize that there is no fear in the perfect love we experience living in Jesus Christ, and the only thing we have to worry about is following His will. When the world is not something to fear, we can recognize creation as the gift that it is and receive what the Lord has waiting for us. The next time you go to Mass or adoration, recognize that Love Incarnate is entering you in order to prove just how far He’ll go to show that you belong with Him. Allow that truth of His unconditional love and your belonging in it to shape the way you live your life, embracing the freedom He has won and given to us. *This blog was originally published on February 7, 2023.* AuthorDanielle is a graduate from the Catholic University of America.
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