 When I look at my faith journey and the twists and turns it has taken, I consider the people who have impacted it the most. Many of these people have come into my life and taught me something about my faith or about myself in one way or another, through positive relationships, prayer, and community. In the past couple of years, I have been blessed to get to know a few Catholic young women who have become a faith support system for me. These women from different walks of life have been living as witnesses of loyalty, honesty, and vulnerability on their individual faith journeys and have stood as role models to me in mine. Their witness of Christ’s enduring love inspires me to be the best Catholic woman I can be. My faith journey has also been inspired by Our Blessed Mother’s “Yes” to God and faithful obedience throughout her life. She, along with many women in the Church, serve as witnesses of faith while living often tumultuous lives on earth. Below is a short summary of five real women with strong characteristics that each can serve as models for us as we move forward on our journeys of faith. Saint Maria Goretti is remembered for forgiving, while on her deathbed, the man who stabbed her after she refused his sexual advances at the young age of eleven. This Italian saint it often depicted gazing at the Virgin Mother while clutching a crucifix. Maria shows us a not only an intense love of Christ, but also exemplifies forgiveness. She forgave her attacker, a man who later became a Capuchin lay brother. By following her example, we can learn to forgive those in our lives who have wronged us and maybe learn to be forgiven ourselves, which can help our hearts be pure through the Sacrament of Penance. Saint Clare of Assisi is remembered for her empathy and care for the poor. She was a monastic Benedictine nun who later founded the Order of Poor Ladies in the Franciscan tradition. With a strong devotion to Saint Francis, Clare adopted his faithfulness to the poor and desired to live humbly with her order. Clare shows us how to live in service to others by giving of our time and prayer to people in need. We can imitate her example by donating gently used clothing or volunteering at soup kitchens all year round. Saint Joan of Arc is remembered for her bravery and leadership. She defied secular norms and led soldiers to victory in France. Joan, who is the patron saint of soldiers and France, lived for Christ through her actions. Her bravery can give us courage to persevere through any vocation God has for our lives. She shows us the importance of following God’s call, whether we are preparing to take vows or changing careers. Saint Kateri Tekakwitha is remembered for steadfast devotion to Christ after converting to Catholicism and cultivating a desire to live devoutly for God. In the face of adversity within her family (her parents and brother died of smallpox when she was only four years old) and rejection by her Native American community, Kateri stayed true to her heart and had faith in God. Kateri is the first Native American saint and was canonized by Pope Benedict XVI in 2012. Saint Therese of Lisieux is remembered for her undying love for Christ and ongoing cheerfulness until her death at age twenty-four. Known as the “Little Flower,” Therese lived simply and fully in pursuit of a deep and genuine relationship with God. She became the third female and youngest Doctor of the Church in 1997. Therese once said of her life, "It is impossible for me to grow up, so I must bear with myself such as I am with all my imperfections. But I want to seek out a means of going to heaven by a little way, a way that is very straight, very short and totally new." She shows us how to stay joyful and childlike by fully opening our hearts to Christ and seeking God in our own little ways. These women and countless others served God through their words, actions, and commitment to the Gospel. I invite you to take a moment to consider these female saints and hundreds of others who witness to their faith. How can Christ help you be brave, like St. Joan of Arc, or instill in you a burning devotion to the Gospel, like St. Kateri Tekakwitha? In what ways can you give to the poor or exercise other corporal and spiritual works of mercy, like St. Claire of Assisi? How can you forgive others, like St. Maria Goretti, or remain joyful like St. Therese of Lisieux? Let us look to the saints, pray for strength, and learn to live through faith. *This blog was originally published July 26, 2016*
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 Summertime is here and with the change in schedules and weather, people make plans for vacations or simply enjoy a more relaxed routine. Our family vacations over the years were full of outdoor adventures in the mountains or at the beach visiting our extended families. Wherever you choose to vacation – even if it’s a staycation in your hometown – can be a beautiful time full of spiritual refreshment. Years ago, when I was in the trenches with six kids aged 18 to newborn, I read a book called Sanity in the Summertime: The Complete Summer Survival Handbook for Moms by Claudia Arp and Linda Dillow. I adopted many of their great ideas and incorporated some of my own to bring more of the richness of our Catholic heritage into our family life. This time of refreshment is a wonderful time to renew your relationship with the Lord and to help those in your family to cultivate their individual faith life. I have compiled a list of the things that we incorporated into our vacation and summertime routines over the years. This list is just a beginning and the potential for summertime recreation is limitless based on your family’s personalities and interests.
The beauty of vacation time or a more relaxed summer schedule involves soaking up the blessings of the time and intentionally bringing Jesus into the season to enrich your faith life and discover the creative ways God is moving in our lives. He has given us everything. When we can slow down and change the pace and the environment for a little bit, we can see more clearly His love and provision for us. This clearer vision of our communion with God enables us to deepen our relationship with Him and to answer His call. Let this song be our mission in our vacationing: “Day by day, Day by day, O dear Lord Three things I pray: To see Thee more clearly, Love Thee more dearly, Follow Thee more nearly- Day by day” Lyrics by Robin Lamont *This blog is reposted and originally published June 29, 2021.*
I am scared of Lent. There: I said it. This cradle Catholic, with plenty of Lents under her belt, is scared of one of the most sacred liturgical seasons in the Church. I’m not saying I don’t love it. I do. I loved when my favorite priest buried the “Hallelujah,” and then emptied our Church of decoration, only adding more as we got further into Lent and into spring. I love (well, love/hate) fasting, and the way my mind is automatically drawn toward my dependence on God and solidarity with others. And my favorite color is purple. So, yeah, Lent is my season. But I’m scared of it. Truth be told, I feel like I’m bad at Lent – never repentant enough, never serious enough, never sacrificing or doing enough. When I was little, I made charts to track my progress through the 40 days free of candy, or Facebook, or whatever I gave up. When I got older, I got smarter and started adding to my Lenten routine. More Scripture, more prayer, more almsgiving. Usually I do okay striking a balance between sacrificing for God and building toward God, but this year…all bets are off. This year, away from home, family, and friends, I’ve been feeling so restless. Isn’t this season a time to rest in God, and prepare our hearts for that life-changing Resurrection? Part of me feels like, “God, haven’t I given up enough? I’ve followed you into this desert that is rural Kentucky!” But part of me (and I’m sure this is the part the Holy Spirit is dealing with) knows there is always more. We can always remove more that stands in our way to the fullness of God. Yet, as Lent draws to an end, I still feel like I am figuring out what I’m doing. My housemates have all dutifully prayed; they have gracefully denied sweets and coffee and swear words. All I’ve managed to do is plod along through Merton’s Seven Storey Mountain, because hey – third time’s a charm, right? In the meantime, I thumb through my notebook still rewriting different versions of my Lenten plan. And there lies my problem; I am still trying to plan Lent. I have turned it into some Christian New Year’s Resolutions/Get-Right Plan for Lent 2013. If I “do” A, B, and C, then the Resurrection will surely come! If I “do” Lent with enough sacrifice, enough Bible study, enough whatever, then I’m sure to feel the Resurrection like never before. But maybe that’s not the way to do it. The Rev. William Bradley, in a sermon given on the first Sunday of Lent, said, “The difference between us and Jesus is that he doesn’t run from…insecurity, rather he embraces, inhabits it as part of his life with God. Rather than trying to fill it with people, things, drugs, and busyness, he sits with his emptiness to see if God will show up.” I haven’t quite figured out what I’m “doing” this Lenten season, and maybe that’s okay. Maybe I need to simply take my restlessness to God in prayer and sit with it, until I’m no longer with the restlessness but with the peace and grace that is God. Only once I can settle into being this Lent, can I start to actually do the life-giving practices of this holy season and rejoice in His resurrection that lies ahead. *This blog was originally published March 21, 2013* AuthorKatherine Biegner graduated from Assumption College and served as a tutor and mentor in the Christian Appalachian Project in rural Kentucky.
 I’m a summer girl, so bear with me and close your eyes to imagine the warm weather with bright, yellow sunshine for so many wonderful hours each day. Everything is lush and green and colorful, and, to cool off, you head either indoors or into a cool pool or the ocean. Friends and neighbors are outdoors using grills or mowing lawns, and those scents waft around the neighborhood. You hear sounds of kids playing, birds and insects chirping, and maybe an ice cream truck can be heard faintly in the distance as it makes its way through the town. Now, open your eyes and look outside. Near me, it is dark outside, early in the day right after work. The cold chills to the bone when you step outside, and only evergreen trees stand proudly while other trees are bare and dead. The air is a crisp cold, and the weather could be snowy, icy, rainy, or chilly - you just never know. Summer has really obvious beauty to me, but winter can seem brutal at times, unless we look at it from a different perspective. This cold season may actually be the perfect time for us to reflect and really take the time to see, not just look at the world right in front of us. How often are we consumed with being at the next season, the next weekend, or the next meeting, instead of noticing what’s right in front of us at this very moment? Recently, I have been doing some self-care work and discovered that I have an issue with time –I actually obsess about it. I worry about being on time and backtrack my whole day to make sure I am on schedule for everything I have coming up. I think about what is coming up and miss the moments I am currently in. I do it unknowingly, and my day revolves around this little compulsion, all stemming from childhood. It is very personal, but I share this because I realized I have no real control over time. No control at all. It is all really in God’s hands. I cannot stop time, prevent things from happening, make other people get places on time, go back in time, or make time move faster. As a human with many flaws, this was a very humbling revelation and I am grateful to have learned this about myself. I’m not sure how many other people in the world may have experienced this concept, but I really hope to bring some clarity: God loves us, and life is all on God’s timeline. The sad and tragic things we suffer at times, though we struggle with them and they can hurt us deeply, help us recognize the joys that life can also bring –full of happiness and goodness, light and hope. God is there for all of it on our life journeys. There is a famous reading about time and how God has already perfectly predetermined the structure of time for us in Ecclesiastes 3: 1-11: There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace. What do workers gain from their toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. This really puts it all into perspective for me. There is time for everything, purpose for it all, and it is all on God’s time - not mine. Even winter, my least favorite season, really has such hidden beauty and purpose. So let us look again outside on this winter day that I described before. There might be peace in the stillness of snowfall and a refreshing, perfect chill in the air when you take a deep breath. There might be no growing grass to mow or flowers to smell, but there might be a cozy home that protects and comforts you from the elements. The night comes early, but our busy bodies can give way to sleep and find the rest we may desperately need. The hidden beauty is really right here, even in this cold season because it is just that, a season. It is a fragment of time, but with a hope of spring soon, and then summer, followed by fall and winter again. It is all a cyclical part of God’s plan that teaches us so many things about his love for us and that there really is a time for everything. God is there for it all; we need only to look for him, time and time again.
 When my husband and I were preparing for marriage, we spent time in reflection and prayer carefully choosing our Mass readings. It was such an exciting decision to make, and we prayed that the readings would reflect and inspire us in our marriage and all whom we would witness to by our marriage. Some of these same readings will be read at Masses across the world on the upcoming feast of the Holy Family, serving as a reminder of how we can live as reflections of the Holy Family in our daily lives. In the second reading, Paul tells the Colossians, “Put on, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience” (Col 3:12). Just like Mary, Joseph, and Jesus, we are God’s beloved, chosen and loved by God, and with that, we are called to live by these same virtues that Paul shares with the Colossians. The stories of Mary and Joseph consistently show us their lives of humility and gentleness. I think of Mary’s fiat (Luke 1:38), Joseph’s obedience to the angel of the Lord (Matthew 1:24), or how Mary and Joseph took Jesus to be presented in the temple in this weekend’s Gospel (Luke 2:22-40). Just like Mary and Joseph, we are called to serve and love God with faithfulness that is radical, but gentle and sweet. What does this faithfulness look like? For the Holy Family, not only did it manifest in the stories we read about in Scripture, but also in the mundane moments of the every day. Mary nursed Jesus as an infant, Joseph taught him carpentry, and Jesus served his parents and brought them joy! Jesus carried this love in his ministry that nurtured all to whom he preached, and it continues to carry on in the legacy of the Church. These little acts of faithfulness yielded enormous fruits and carried the Holy Family through times of immense suffering. As I feel overwhelmed with my day to day duties of family life as a wife and mother, or my job as a teacher, I find comfort in knowing that perhaps Mary and Joseph felt these demands, too. They were faithful to their vocations, to each other, and to the Lord. Life is a balancing act, but with “Christ dwell[ing] in you richly,” like the Holy Family, all can be done in love, “do[ing] everything in the name of the Lord Jesus” (Col 3:17). You show faithfulness when you do the dishes, when you submit an assignment for work or school, when you make the bed. You show faithfulness when you play with your children, when you have coffee with a friend, when you stop and pray. You show faithfulness when you show up to Mass. Opportunities for faithfulness, humility, and gentleness are in the every day, both big and small. Through these opportunities for faithfulness I have learned that God is never outdone in generosity. He wants to bless us and let us know His love, and He does this in the most profound way when we show Him our faithfulness and love, just as the Holy Family has modeled for us. As we continue to navigate the demands of our daily lives, let us cling to the intercession of the Holy Family, that we may be gentle and humble, showing radical faithfulness in all that we do. Question for Reflection: What are some opportunities to show for faithfulness in your life? For more resources on Marriage and Family, click here. *This was originally published December 28, 2017* AuthorAlyce Shields is a teacher in Washington D.C.
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. Author
Victor 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.
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.
“To discern is to open ourselves to God revealing Godself to us. It results in making decisions within the context of a personal relationship with God, nourished regularly by prayer. It is a search to understand more clearly.” -Brother Vincent Pelletier F.S.C.
The popularity of the word discernment seems to have skyrocketed in Catholic circles in recent years. Discernment has always been linked to discerning one’s lifelong vocation to married, single, or religious life. Discernment has also been linked—especially recently—to more short-term decisions such as what to study in college, what job to accept, and even more mundane choices within one’s daily life. Many times, young people—myself included for many years in the past—want to tackle the question of lifelong discernment head on, determining their vocation as quickly as possible. This, however, cuts off the central aspect of discernment which is a long-term personal relationship with God. Instead of looking at discernment from the top down, one must examine their daily life, decisions, and prayer life to allow God to show them the path to their lifelong vocation. When I was in college, I was racked by pressure to determine my lifelong vocation to either married, single, or religious life. At the time, I understood that the heart of discernment was taking decisions to God in my prayer life, but all I could focus on was finding the result. In reality, the way to go about discernment is to maintain constant communication with God, to consistently acknowledge His Holy Presence in your life and bring your day-to-day life into your prayers. God presents Himself to us through innumerable ways on any given day, and a cornerstone of prayer is noticing Him there. If, however, you were like me in college worrying about the final result instead of an actionable next step, it is easy to miss God and lose out on quality discernment. It is only through regular prayer that God can reveal Himself clearly to us. Prayer has the power to make sense of the chaos that rules our lives in the twenty-first century. A meditation or Examen in the morning or evening can lead one to see God’s personal actions daily and enable us to bring God into our lives more actively. Retreats—whether a day-long, weekend long, or self-paced at-home retreats—can allow us to break down longer stints of our lives, see God’s presence, and reorient us for larger decisions that might be facing us. Once I realized that my larger vocation questions were not going to be answered unless I discerned daily, it allowed me to become more attuned with God and deepen my prayer life. I began to see how God was strengthening me as a boyfriend, fiancé, and now husband to support and be supported by my now wife. Additionally, by focusing my prayer on the daily actions of my studying and student-teaching internships and being the best teacher I could be, I was able to see how God works in and through me in my career. This realization enabled me to be confident in a career decision that was not something I would have considered when I was beginning my undergraduate experience. As many have said before, God rarely comes to us in beatific visions with clear instructions on how to live our lives for Him. Instead, Jesus comes to us through people and events around us, hoping to guide us along the way of life. Discernment is looking for trail markers that Jesus leaves for us; we are looking to understand the roadmap He laid out for us.
 When I was a young adult, my mom and I would discuss politics. When the discussion got heated, mom would say, “I totally disagree with you, but I will defend to my death your right to say it.” I was baffled; annoyed that she ended the debate but also affirmed. A close read of the Declaration of Independence helps me understand the depth and significance of what my mom meant. The Declaration of Independence is 1,337 words long, written by a committee of five with Thomas Jefferson, a delegate from Virginia, as the principal author. It was 1776; the Continental Congress had convened in Philadelphia and Jefferson drafted the declaration in his boarding room. Independence is not declared until the last paragraph. As the summation of the rationale for independence, this paragraph is worthy of our attention and consideration. 1. The delegates declare they are representatives of the colonies assembled “in congress.” 2. They appeal to “the Supreme Judge of the world” for the moral rightness of their action. 3. They speak in the name, and with the authority of, “the good People of these Colonies.” 4. They declare the colonies “free and independent states” severing all ties to the King of England and “the State of Great Britain.” 5. They declare that they have all the rights of an independent state. 6. Finally, in support of this declaration, our founding fathers, “with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence,” mutually pledged “to each other our lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.” I believe it was this mutual pledge, a pledge of life, fortune, and sacred honor, that my mom was getting at in our debates. We can disagree and debate vigorously if, and only if, we have a bond that connects us to each other deeper, and greater, than either of us. It is this mutuality that we must reclaim as citizens of the United States of America. When our founding fathers unanimously approved the Declaration of Independence on July 2nd, and then signed it on July 4, 1776, they were committing treason. They shifted their allegiance from the King of England to each other. Our founding fathers were far from perfect, but they were people of faith and principle. They had a clear, even reluctant, rationale for independence. Most of us know the beginning of the second paragraph, “We hold these truths to be self-evident…” God gives all individuals equality and the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. To secure these God-given rights, humans create governments that derive “their just powers from the consent of the governed.” The divine “right” is given to each person, not to a king. Consequently, when a government no longer secures these rights, then it is the right of the people; “it is their duty,” to “throw off” the abusive government and create a new one. Based on these principles, the founding fathers – as if they were prosecuting a case before a world court of independent states – identified 27 charges against the King of England. They concluded this list of charges with two additional paragraphs. One where they chronicle the many ways they attempted to address these grievances directly with the King. The second is on their efforts to engage their “brethren.” So, the second paragraph is the rationale based on the rights God gives to everyone, then the 27 grievances, paragraph three chronicles their appeal to the King, fourth is an appeal to their “brethren,” and the fifth and final paragraph is the declaration of independence. What about the first paragraph? It serves as a preamble. Independence breaks the bond with one country and establishes a new one, which “the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them.” Respect for the “opinions of mankind” require that this new nation “declare the causes which impel them to the separation.” This review of the Declaration of Independence helped me appreciate what mom taught me fifty years ago. It has renewed my faith in the founding principles of our country – faith in God, equality, unalienable rights, the responsibility to create a government that secures those rights, and our pledge of mutuality. As Catholics we understand mutuality through the principle of solidarity which is grounded in the incarnation itself, “the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us” (John 1:14). Pope Francis, in Fratelli Tutti (no. 66), encourages us to “rediscover our vocation as citizens” because we are “called to direct society to the pursuit of the common good.” Our bishops, in Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship (2023), applied this truth to our country. “The perennial role of the Church in public life is proclaiming timeless principles: the infinite worth and dignity of every human life, the common good, solidarity, and subsidiary.” Democracy is not for the faint of heart. As Catholics, we wholeheartedly embrace the challenges and the promise of democracy because we believe it is only possible through faith – in God and each other.
 God provides. Relying on Jesus means that we trust that God provides. Provides what? Not everything we want, the way we want it, and when we want it. No, God provides what we need, the way we need it, and when we need it, even if we cannot see it at the time. Living life for a length of time often teaches us to see and trust in this way. The alternative is simply reliance on self which can lead to bitterness and damage to ourselves and others. Relying on Jesus means that we trust that he, as God, is working 100%, offering us the grace to persevere, even during times of great challenge. He laid down his life for us on the Cross, so that we might experience the fullness of God providing for us, the opportunity for Eternal Life. We are called to trust in God who provides. While presented here as seemingly simple, it is not. We like to feel as if we are in control of our lives and destiny. It is hard to surrender ourselves to Christ and rely on him. Faith gives us the ability to do it. The charity of Christ offers us the grace of faith, since God always wills our good in ways that we often do not expect or imagine. God provides. Let us rely on Jesus Christ. May the charity of Christ urge us on! In God, the Infinite Love, Fr. Frank
It’s that time of year where students set off for college, some for the first time and some going far away from home. These students take on the challenge of continuing towards adulthood and the process of making their faith their own. This can be a difficult road filled with numerous temptations, stresses, and other challenges. As someone who attended Catholic school for most of my life, I found the transition to college difficult, especially when it came to my faith. I attended a large public university where few practiced Catholicism, and I felt very isolated. The people who I attended Mass with at the beginning of the year began to slowly drift away – going to other churches or becoming too busy with academic commitments. With my class schedule it was hard to make it to the Catholic Student Union events and join the camaraderie. While I adjusted well to college life, I felt alone in my faith. Everyone has different experiences when it comes to the transition into colleges. Whether you are entering college for the first time, a current student wanting to get more in tune with your faith, or even a parent or relative of a college student(s), I’ve compiled some tips about keeping up with your faith life that can be helpful: 1. Make friends who challenge you to be your best self Make friends wherever you go on campus, but remain close friends with those who continually challenge you to be your best. Many of my closest friends at college weren’t Catholic, yet they held me to remain true to my faith and myself without peer pressure. Just as a spouse is to help his or her partner grow in faith, so too should your friends. 2. Get Involved Whether you join the Catholic Student Union or other groups on campus, make sure you are busy. Becoming involved lessens homesickness and other temptations. Enjoy your college experience! 3. Go to Mass every Sunday Mark it on your agenda. Make sticky notes. Do whatever you need to do so that you attend Mass each week. Experiencing Christ every week in the Eucharist renews us and gives us strength. Fortunately, as Catholics we usually have a variety of Mass times to attend, so take advantage of that! 4. Challenge yourself and set goals Regularly make short-term and long-term goals, and then try to stick to them. These can be anything from attending adoration regularly, going to daily Mass, setting aside prayer or Bible-reading time, or even studying abroad, trying new foods, and accomplishing a certain academic achievement. 5. Find time every day to pray and appreciate the beauty around you Doing this helps strengthen your personal relationship with God. Plus, you gain a better appreciation for life and develop practices that will stay with you after college. It’s not easy, but it matters that you try. 6. Call your family and your close friends one or more times a week These people are important foundations in your life. Keep them updated on your life in college and be honest with them. Your family and friends are a support system when things aren’t easy. 7. Find a Mentor Your mentor(s) can be an academic, club advisor, older student, or religious. These individuals in your life can help you navigate college, your future, and strengthen your faith. (Plus letters of recommendation and internship/job advice are certainly helpful!) 8. Talk to people at your local church and get involved in the Mass  Become a part of your new parish community at college. Get to know others around you to have that “home away from home.” This will help you make good life-long friends. Plus, getting involved in the Mass helps you become ingrained in the community while deepening your faith. 9. Search for a church you feel most comfortable going to Feeling at home in your college parish is important. Find a church that makes you want to go to Mass. The nearest church may not be your favorite – so explore! My favorite parish in my college town was about 15 minutes away and felt just like my home parish. 10. Find people to go to church with you  Having someone to go to church with incentivizes you to go to Mass. Plus, it’s always fun having a buddy. Keep each other accountable! Make it a group event and have brunch or dinner after Mass, too! *This post was originally published on September 8, 2014.
I believe that I shall see the good things of the Lord in the land of the living. -Ps 27:13
The three of us sat around the dining table and cried—a toddler, a little boy, and a pregnant mom. A pitiful orchestra unleashed after a season of transition, a day of disobedience, and the moment that broke the camel’s back: a bowl of yogurt. The toddler had insisted on finishing the yogurt with his hands—which he was told would result in that being his final serving. He looked me in the eye and dipped his little hand in the bowl once more, using it as a makeshift spoon. The yogurt was taken. The wailing ensued. After what felt like 1,000 moments of defiance that day, after consecutive days of a 6-months-pregnant woman chasing small boys in the summer heat with little rest, and after racking my brains out to creatively navigate sibling rivalry, whining, and toddler grumpiness, I put my head on the table and started crying too. My 5-year-old joined in for moral support. After a few minutes of this little concert, I couldn’t help but laugh at the pitiful scene. What must it have looked like to the outside world? Two children and a grown woman competing for the loudest sobs. My husband came in a few minutes later from working in the yard and took over. “Go and rest,” he said. “I’ll take care of the boys.” I shuffled up the stairs, sniffling in defeat, for a few minutes to reset. And I knew I needed to see Him. I knew once again I needed to spend time with my Creator and regroup. Meditating on today’s Psalm from the daily readings reminds us of a beautiful truth: “I believe that I shall see the good things of the Lord in the land of the living.” Whether or not I felt it in this moment of exhaustion and despair, God’s goodness is always there. He stands ready to bestow on us His strength, His mercy, and His love in the here and now—even in the midst of suffering. The Lord never promised the removal of suffering from our lives (which any of us can note by listening to 30 seconds of the news cycle), but He did promise to sustain us and be with us “even to the end of time.” And it is for this reason that I can join the psalmist in choosing to see “the good things of the Lord” right here and now “in the land of the living.” This Psalm is particularly close to my heart because it has been turned into a lovely song by the ecumenical Taize community in the Burgundy region of France. The music of the Taize community was instrumental (no pun intended) in my reversion at the end of my college career and became an easy way for me to “pray without ceasing.” I have come to sing the song inspired by Psalm 27 for nearly a decade: “I am sure I shall see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living,” the chant goes. “Yes, I shall see the goodness of the Lord. Hold firm, trust in the Lord.” There have been many days in this last trimester of pregnancy when I have had to cling to this belief and hold firm in trusting the Lord. My third pregnancy has brought with it the usual physical demands on the body, as well as the benefit of chasing two toddler boys around in the summer heat. Perhaps I can blame the extra dose of female hormones from my baby girl for the extra emotional complexity I’m experiencing. In my weekly women’s group in which we are reading “This Present Paradise: Spiritual Reflections from Elizabeth of the Trinity,” one of the questions for reflection was “do you ever feel small and insignificant?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “All the time!” I answered, especially now in a season in which I am grappling with my physical and emotional limitations. The independent woman who has always done things on her own, found a creative solution, and seen life in the glass half full perspective can barely walk to the playground, cook a meal, or lift a laundry basket. My easygoing nature has given way to my temper more times than I can count, and my patience is wearing thin. I’ve realized I can’t do anything during this time but cling to God. I am small. I am insignificant. But I am His. The Lord knit me in my mother’s womb, called me by name, and looked at me and proclaimed: “She is good.” The Lord worked throughout time and space to bring me into the fullness of redemption and sent His only begotten Son to die for me. And He continues to pour out His grace, mercy, and blessings on me through His Church, the sacraments, and my loving friends, family, and community. So yes, I am one of billions. I can only do so much. And though I may feel small and insignificant and overwhelmed these days, I can still see and experience the goodness of the Lord right here and now—in the land of the living. Hold firm. Trust in the Lord. For more resources on Marriage and Family, please click here.
8/24/2021 It Will All Fall Into Place: Reflections on Graduating During the COVID-19 PandemicRead Now 2020 was a difficult year for so many people; it is safe to say that we all were impacted in some way. To me it felt like the entire world stopped and everything started moving in slow motion. March 2020 was my senior year of college—what was supposed to be the best semester of my life, the beginning to the end, the start of a new chapter. Yet, there I was, driving back to my family home in Massachusetts to study and then graduate in the home that I grew up in. I felt so crushed, defeated, and overwhelmed. I remember that Easter, only a few weeks into the pandemic, feeling so overjoyed that some of my friends and parish community decided to come together and celebrate our Risen Lord. We had a drive-by celebration in the parking lot where our pastor blessed each of us and we waved at our friends from the safety of our car. I felt so overjoyed to see their faces and to get a glimpse of normalcy. I remember that Easter morning being filled with joy, possibly the Lord’s way of showing us that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Yet, around that same time, we found out that school was cancelled for the rest of the semester and Zoom became our new normal. I remember thinking, “The last time I stepped into a classroom was the day before spring break and all I wanted to do was get out of there, but now, I’ll never be able to go back.” While that may have been a bit dramatic, it truly was a time where my faith was the only thing that was able to guide me. While I was upset over the loss of my senior year and the loss of long-anticipated memories, I was so thankful and blessed to have my health, my family, and my faith. There were so many people grieving the loss of family members, enduring financial difficulties, and risking their lives on the frontlines of the pandemic. It was hard not to laugh at myself for crying over my difficulties when faced with the reality of what was going on throughout the world. The Lord guides us on a path. Though we may not know where or how it ends, we know He is there. I knew this time in my life would already be difficult—saying goodbye to friends, trying to find a “real” job, and trying to balance new responsibilities. Adding to that the uncertainty of a pandemic only exacerbated the overwhelming anxiety I knew was around the corner. I kept repeating this phrase over and over in my head: “it is all part of God’s plan.” The phrase kept rekindling faith in my heart when things began to feel difficult. It can be seen as a silly, trite phrase. But for me, the impact it had on my life was so important. It helped me to have a conversation with the Lord daily—whenever things felt tough or I felt defeated or just lost. After repeating the simple phrase over and over in my head, I felt the Lord’s presence like a hand on my shoulder continuing to guide me throughout life. I couldn’t help but exhale. Graduation came and went. I wore my cap and gown in my childhood living room surrounded by my parents trying to figure out how to set up Zoom on the T.V. It was an underwhelming experience compared to the grand festivities I had imagined, yet I was very thankful to be able to celebrate with my parents. Trying to navigate through “adult life” during the pandemic proved to be difficult within itself. It felt so easy to isolate myself from those around me and to disconnect from everything. Everything seemed big: applying for jobs, getting my first apartment, living in the city. It often felt easier to give up when things got difficult. But that is exactly the opposite of what the Lord calls us to do. The Lord wants us to call upon him during the difficult times and to remember that everything is part of his plan. He is there to walk with us through the ups and downs and invites us to lean upon his strength in times when ours fails. While the road ahead seems uncertain, there is one thing that we can count on - the love and support of the Lord. Over the past year, what I have found is that everything is part of His plan; every small step we take, every thought that enters our mind, every mundane task—it all will fall into place.
There are only a few people whom I look at in biblical history and identify with on an average-human-level. It can be hard to find personal connections to many saints and holy people for me. Some were ordinary and humble, but others were so extraordinary and left big shoes to fill. It can be challenging to wrap your head around their sanctity—I know it is for me. When I hear about St. Martha though, I think, “Yes, she’s my girl.” Martha had close friends and pesky siblings, and when important company came over, she was mad no one was helping as she cleaned and cooked herself into a tizzy. She was so human, so relatable.
St. Martha, her sister Mary, and their brother Lazarus were close friends of the Lord. We hear about them from Luke’s Gospel: As they continued their journey he entered a village where a woman whose name was Martha welcomed him. She had a sister named Mary [who] sat beside the Lord at his feet listening to him speak. Martha, burdened with much serving, came to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me by myself to do the serving? Tell her to help me.” The Lord said to her in reply, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things. There is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part and it will not be taken from her. This is such a great passage. It shows the humanity of these average people. It contrasts Martha, the burdened preparer and host for the occasion, with Mary, the one who sat with and listened to their wise friend, Jesus. It is a chance for those of us who get frazzled to stop for a moment and listen to the Word of God. It is a chance for us to not only let Jesus into our homes, but also into our hearts as well. Martha is so relatable. In a later moment in John’s Gospel, we hear about Martha taking a completely different approach to the Lord’s arrival. This time, he is met with her sadness but also her faith. This is a big moment for Martha. She seems to have learned to trust and believe, and thus Christ’s arrival brings hope for her even after the death of her brother. She tells Jesus that if he had been here, Lazarus wouldn’t have died, but has hope and faith that everything will still be okay. Jesus responds, “Your brother will rise.” Martha said to him, “I know he will rise, in the resurrection on the last day.” Jesus told her, “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” She said to him, “Yes, Lord. I have come to believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one who is coming into the world.” From this we hear St. Martha echo her own “fiat” with the words, “Yes, Lord.” This is when we see her inner beauty emerge. Her old self, prone to complaining and anxiety from hosting, has been replaced by faith. I find a lot of comfort knowing that St. Martha was imperfect and struggled—even when Jesus was in her home. Her feast day is July 29th, the day before my birthday, and I feel more connected to this saint than ever before. It wasn’t the first time that Jesus entered her home or that she listened to his words. It also probably was not the second or third time she had interacted with him, being close friends. But when the moment came for her to have hope in the Lord, she did. Patience and sitting with Christ, like her sister Mary did, might be another way to sainthood, but for Martha, her heart was not as ready to accept Him then. Her human imperfections kept her from that. Her path to sainthood was a journey comprised of moments of faith and trust, as we saw in her conversation with Jesus after Lazarus’ death. She shows us that, though we can’t always be perfect, our call to sanctity begins with the words, “Yes, Lord. I have come to believe...”
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