As we continue to navigate uncertain times, Assistant Director of Administration Monica Thom Konschnik shares how we can learn from the life and example of St. Monica during COVID-19. 

​For more reflections on St. Monica, we invite you to read St. Monica and the Power of Intercessory Prayer and Motherhood and St. Monica.

Monica Thom Konschnik is the Assistant Director for Administration for the Catholic Apostolate Center.

Imagine four graduate students passionate about ministry and ready for new experiences. We pulled up to a ranch house in New Hampshire in August 2012 and unloaded our packed cars. Our next two years were devoted to serving in local parishes while earning our degrees in theology through the Echo Graduate Service Program.
 
Our first community prayer took place on the Feast of St. Bernard of Clairvaux, whose feast day we celebrate on Thursday. The translation for “Clairvaux” is “Valley of Light”; we didn’t know a great deal about Bernard, but the theme of light clicked. We were accumulating candles as welcome gifts from our parishes, so of course, it was a sign! We pieced together his biography and reflected on his dynamic writings. We asked St. Bernard to be the patron of our house and bless our time together. 
 
St. Bernard was a monk who lived in 11th century France and became a Doctor of the Church. From an early age, he was considered devout and well-educated. The third of seven children, Bernard took a particular interest in poetry and had a special devotion to Mary. He notably authored the Memorare prayer. He became a respected abbot of what are now the Cistercians in the Diocese of Langres. Bernard is credited with naming the monastery he began Claire Vallée, in an area originally named Vallée d'Absinthe, or Valley of Bitterness. He was known for his influence among clergy and political leaders. St. Bernard died in 1153 and was canonized in 1174.
 
Now imagine a young family. My husband, one-year-old son, and I prepared to “hunker down” for quarantine in March 2020 in Indiana. Five months later, we are still amid a global pandemic that can feel overwhelming, oppressive, disheartening, and confusing all at once. The virus has also revealed some of the most beautiful elements of community and compassion.
 
While I can’t compare the virus to the challenges Bernard faced as a young adult starting a monastery with a “band of monks,” I appreciate how he held fast to the deeper purpose of Benedictine life. He cultivated habits of work, leisure, and rest while counseling his fellow monks, clergy, and politicians. COVID-19 forced me to recognize how I create space to listen and be with God both inside and outside my home, much like Bernard’s contemplative life.
 
Eight years ago, the patron of candlemakers introduced what it means to practice a type of “spirituality of home” where home is not only a place for living, but also one of brightness, hope, and intentionality. I can see hope daily in our little boy, doing the hokey pokey many times over, reading books, and playing chase. We intentionally set up a prayer table in our living room where we say morning and evening prayers as a family and filled walls with icons and pictures to remember who it is we say thank you to! These habits took time, but they have been a source of security in such a time of uncertainty.
 
I’m grateful to St. Bernard for bringing light to all the “unknowns” in our little ranch house in New England and my first home in the Midwest. He is a guide who shows us how to cultivate habits that lead to a deeper relationship with God, our true home! 
 
Reflection Questions: How might we practice a “spirituality of home”? Where is the light in our individual “valleys of bitterness,” i.e. isolation, loss, anxiety, or despair?
 
Inspiration for this article came from the book Theology of Home.
 
If you enjoyed this post, we invite you to read Creating an Inner Monastery During the Coronavirus Pandemic. 

When I was a senior in high school in the diocese of Joliet, then-Bishop Peter Sartain came to celebrate one of our monthly school Masses. I was asked to assist the Bishop for the day, and throughout the day he and I had many warm conversations. I received a piece of mail a few weeks later from Bishop (now Archbishop) Sartain containing a handwritten note and several prayer cards with Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati’s image on them. Little did I know that the young Blessed would soon become one of my dear patron saints.

In my opinion, anyone who offers their life as an apostle on mission—including lay and ordained ministers, Catholic school employees, catechists, and all spiritual guides—should keep Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati as their patron saint and their example to combat despair and to joyfully share the Gospel. Blessed Pier Giorgio shows us the Christ-like demeanor and personality that the Church and her ministers and missionaries should possess as they evangelize the world. 

Blessed Pier Giorgio makes an excellent spiritual guide and mentor because he was an ordinary young man with a profound commitment to the poor and to justice. There are countless books and articles that describe how Pier Giorgio spent hours serving the poor and the homeless, often giving away the money he had for bus fare and even his own jacket! His parents misunderstood his great actions of charity, and often scolded him when he returned home late without his coat. He was never distracted from the missionary imperative of the Gospel. Instead, he served those on the margins as Jesus commanded. Archbishop Wilton Gregory of Washington D.C. recently stated in a webinar, “The Church lives in society. The Church does not live behind the four [walls] of the structures where we worship.” Just as Pier Giorgio Frassati befriended the poor and sought justice as a “man of the beatitudes,” we too must go beyond the four walls of our churches, homes, and offices into the margins of our society to serve our brothers and sisters and work for justice.

Blessed Pier Giorgio also accompanied others in their pursuit of God. He maintained unlikely friendships and was neither bound up by cynicism nor weighed down by scandal. Instead, he actively worked against these in his interactions with all. Many stories detail his love for pranks, making bets with his friends over games and making the stakes be attending Mass or Adoration. Like this soon-to-be-saint, we must live in the world while encouraging others to return to Christ in the spirit of friendship. As apostles on mission, we must live, work, and play with a renewed spiritual vision, driven by the practice of spiritual accompaniment.

The quality I most admire in Blessed Pier Giorgio is his ultimate trust in God’s plans. He did not try to take control of his life’s plan nor did he envy God’s authority. Rather, he allowed God to guide him as he discerned his future and his mission in life. Pier Giorgio brought Church doctrine to life through his service and actions. He lived with a gospel-inspired freedom. He spent time in deep prayer, contemplating the mission God had laid before him, discerning to serve the poor as a lay man with expertise in mechanical engineering rather than as a priest. Pier Giorgio trusted God. As Alfonso Nebreda, S.J. wrote, “We must not forget that man cannot nourish his spirituality with orthodoxy alone … there is more to Christianity than this … for faith is life” (Kerygma in Crisis?, Nebreda). Blessed Pier Giorgio embodied the Gospel, and he lived it out according to his mission from God. 

As we consider the life of Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati, I invite those who serve the Church as lay or ordained ministers, catechists, educators, and spiritual guides to adopt this young saint as a guide for our spiritual lives and our ecclesial missions. Let us invite the same Spirit who lived in Blessed Pier Giorgio and who makes the Church vibrant to renew our hearts, minds, and missionary efforts.

Blessed Pier Giorgio, pray for us!
 
Interested in learning more about becoming an apostle on mission? Click here to learn more.
 

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

My favorite things to eat are sweet treats. Chocolate any-sort-of-way is my snack of choice. I love it! During this quarantined time at home, I’ve found myself baking and eating all kinds of delicious foods and sweet treats. The end result (besides having a belly full of tasty cookies and cakes) has been enjoying these treats together with my family like a little “ritual.” Every night, there is a delicious baked-good in the house that my husband and I look forward to enjoying together. I’ve found comfort in this time together, and it’s something I want to hang onto even after quarantine. My husband and I sit back, unwind with conversation or some TV, and enjoy a yummy treat together on the couch. One might even call it our quarantine tradition!

Baking over these past few weeks has brought another level of joy for me apart from devouring the finished product. Baking in the kitchen brings me joy during this time: I decide what delicious treat to make, assemble all the supplies, read each step closely and carefully, get each ingredient measured just right, and wait patiently for it all to bake. I’m not a very meticulous person when it comes to cooking and baking, but baking with recipes has been a newfound joy that fills my heart. The patron saint of bakers and pastry chefs is St. Honore, whose feast day was just on May 16th. He was a 6th century bishop in France who is normally depicted with a baker’s paddle and wheat; he is celebrated in Paris with a three-day feast and a festival of bread. There is also a special cake in his honor called the “Gateau St. Honore” made of cream puffs, caramelized sugar, and pastry creams. Maybe I’ll honor his feast day (a little late) with a cream puff masterpiece of my own!
​
Baking brings me joy, and perhaps it can bring you joy during this time as well. Baking with kids, although slightly messier, can be a great source of joy that builds lasting memories. Baking with a spouse or significant other can also bring you closer together.
 
Here is a list of 9 ideas related to baking that will not only fill your bellies, but also your hearts—adding a little more sweetness to your life during this pandemic and time spent at home:

1. Start with a classic. Make some chocolate chip cookies from scratch. Warm them up with some ice cream, cozy up with a blanket and a good book, and take a deep breath in. We’ll get through this.
2. Plan a date night! Use a new pastry recipe or an oldie-but-goodie that you and your significant other both love. Bake it together, pair it with a glass of something delicious (some like milk, some like wine - you pick!), and enjoy it together!
3. Bake for others! Make a treat for someone who is working on the front lines of COVID-19 and help them feel appreciated for all that they are doing to help. Your kindness can go a very long way!
4. Bake for a breakfast treat! Cinnamon rolls, muffins, doughnuts, bagels, and biscuits all can be made ahead of time and then enjoyed for breakfast (or snacking) later on.
5. Bake with kids! Kids love working with their hands! By baking together, you’re teaching them life skills and building memories. It’s also a good excuse for bath time after!
6. To brighten a day! Bake for an isolated neighbor and leave it at their doorstep with a little note; it’s amazing how bright their day could get because of a little sweet treat!
7. Try something new! Tired of the same old recipe? Flip through the pages of a cookbook or scroll online and try to make whatever you land on! Fancy pastry? New pie or bread? Bring it on! Get creative and expand your skillset!
8. Share it virtually! Try to follow the directions exactly and go for a picture-perfect version, then make it snazzy, and post it to your social media account! Who knows, you might inspire someone else who wants to get off the couch and bake!
9. Bake for your heart! We are living through stressful times of hardship and suffering. If baking brings you or family and friends joy, just do it. Your heart will thank you.

 
St. Honore, pray for us!
​

My wife and I welcomed our first daughter into the world on February 24th, and we brought her home a few days later on Ash Wednesday. As is the typical newborn parent experience, we’ve endured frustrating, sleepless nights and reveled in joy-filled, playful mornings. Because of stay-at-home, work-from-home orders in Texas, my parental leave has been longer than I anticipated, but I believe this is a blessing. Each moment I’ve had with my daughter has been precious, and as I sit on this (squeaky!) rocking chair holding her in my arms, balancing my laptop on my knee, the recent advice of expert parents runs through my mind and evokes in my heart a fresh understanding of God’s divine fatherhood and my pursuit of sainthood.


In the weeks leading up to our daughter’s birth, one mother of 6 said something to me to the effect of: “The nights are long and the days are short, but the years are the fastest of all.” In these first few weeks of parenthood, I’ve found that my wife is more easily roused during the night. When it’s my turn (opportunity, really) to get up mid-REM cycle, the nights really do feel long. Honestly, they drag. But it’s struck me more than once that getting up in the middle of the night is a very practical way that I can pursue holiness in my vocation. To sacrifice sleep to offer comfort to my child and rest for my wife is not in the same league as answering a burning question for the Summa or calling out a witty line while being burned at the stake, but it is a constant formation in the virtues of humility and charity. I’m led to consider St. Therese’s “little way,” which makes more and more sense each day. Those long nights always do turn into days and, I’m sure, the years will speed by soon. 

Many people, including our pediatrician, have said, “Always hold your baby in the first few weeks, even when she’s sleeping. You’re not spoiling her, and you won’t get to do that forever.” As a general rule, I’ve always believed babies are cute and, therefore, worthy of spoiling. But no one warned me that when it comes to one’s own child, evolutionary biology and divine motivation combine to make one certain that one’s own baby is the most perfect, most adorable being on all the earth and, therefore, is automatically deserving of every good thing. When I’m holding my daughter in my arms, and I gaze upon her (perfect) little face with its self-inflicted scratches and baby acne, I’m blown away at how much love I have for her. Then, I’m briefly terrified at the thought that something bad could happen to her.
 
And isn’t that how it is for our relationship with God our Father? He gazes upon us, loving us with all our imperfections, slightly terrified and sorrowful at the thought that sin and death and temporal pursuits could lead us to ruin. As I adjust this baby in my arms right now, I’m wondering whether God pulls us closer to His bosom in those moments of near separation, gazing upon us all the while, reminding us how beloved we are with, as Nouwen says in Life of the Beloved, “all the tenderness and force that love can hold.”

There are many more pieces of advice that have yielded great spiritual reflections for me these last few weeks. Now, I know that I’m not offering any groundbreaking reflections, but maybe the point of this post is not to offer a new thought, but instead to acknowledge that God has spoken these familiar realities of His love and affection for me in a deeper way through the experience of my vocation. I’m encouraged to remind you in these times of distress: God is a loving Father whose sacrificial love turns against all else, even His own justice (Deus Caritas Est, 10) to gaze upon you with all the force that love can hold. Perhaps this is a notion all mothers and fathers before me—spiritual, adoptive, and biological—have come to understand already, but it’s consoling to know that in a time of uncertainty, God still speaks to and affirms His people through personal encounters. Even through a sleeping baby and a squeaky rocking chair. 
 
For more resources on Marriage and Family, please click here.

Perhaps by this time, having become frustrated by the fact that even for a relatively short period of time we have been forced into isolation, we might find ourselves asking:  “Why now?“ , “Why this bad?”,  and  perhaps even cursing the fact that this pandemic has so radically turned our lives upside down in what seems but a few moments.  It might be an experience so taxing because it is so very different for us, but certainly not to human history.

​Between 1830 and 1837, a cholera epidemic swept through Europe and North America.  It began in India, spread to what was at the time called Arabia, and then to Iraq.  In 1831, the epidemic reached the Caucasus and soon after spread to Poland, Hungary, Portugal, France, the Netherlands, Spain, and eventually to Italy.  Like epidemics in the past centuries, this epidemic also spread from city to city by way of local ports. 

In Rome, news of the spreading illness was met with the usual responses of apprehension and fear.  But there was no small number of people who actually doubted that the disease would have a significant impact on Rome.  In July of 1837, the first three people in Rome died of cholera.  However, the news media denied that cholera was in fact the cause of these deaths and claimed that lies were being spread by persons seeking to cause panic and attempting to disturb the social well- being of the city.  Is it not true that our initial reaction to the news of the Coronavirus was that it was far away in China and so our concern for the spread to the U.S. was rather limited? 

During the time of the cholera infestation of Rome, the charity of a Roman priest, now St. Vincent Pallotti, emerged in a special way. He immediately saw to it that his priests of the Congregation of the Catholic Apostolate, which he had founded, were on hand constantly (as was he) to meet the spiritual needs of the many penitents who were constantly entering the Church of Spirito Santo where Vincent served as rector to have their confession heard.  Assisting the sick, caring for their families, and also spending many hours in the confessional, Fr. Vincent was extremely busy. 

To respond to the numerous and varied appeals he received from so many, Vincent divided the city of Rome into three sectors, entrusting each sector to his priests working in collaboration with the  lay members of the Union of the Catholic Apostolate, which he had also founded, to meet the various spiritual and material needs of a then desperate people. Funds were collected and distributed to families throughout the city who had lost the person responsible for their principal source of income.  The rectory of Spirito Santo became a center where families who overnight had become destitute could in writing request whatever it was they needed, and the priests with their lay cooperators would bring to the home whatever was required: bread, meat, fruit and other necessities of life as well.  They found beds for the sick, redeemed articles that had been pawned out of desperation for ready cash, and helped families to pay bills that would allow them to purchase further necessities.  Vincent and his priests were ever on the move, caring for the ill.  They were, at the same time, finding an increasing number of children who had lost their immediate family and now had no one to care for them.

 In 1838, the year following the end of the epidemic, Vincent organized a lottery offering excellent and expensive prizes donated by his more affluent friends in order to raise funds to begin a program of caring for the orphans left behind by the epidemic.  Many of those who won returned the prizes to Vincent that they might be sold and thereby add further monies to the orphan fund.

It might well happen, as it did in Vincent’s day, that one or other of us might be called upon to meet certain needs of persons made quite helpless by the present pandemic. No one of us knows either the day nor the hour when we might run into a situation that calls for immediate involvement and appropriate response with no questions asked. May the life of St. Vincent Pallotti, who prayed that “the work of the Blessed Trinity be realized in us,” be a model and inspiration for us during this time.
 
Cf   St. Vincent Pallotti: Prophet of a Spiritual Communion.  Ed.  Fr. Francesco Todisco, SAC. Trans. Kate  Marcelin- Rice. Herefordshire, United Kingdom.  Gracewing, 2015

​Fr. Louis Micca, S.A.C. is a member of the Immaculate Conception Province of the Society of the Catholic Apostolate. Over his 52 years of priesthood, he has served as a parish priest, Shrine director, formator, and teacher.

Founded in the 17th Century, Saint Patrick’s Day is both a commemoration of Ireland’s patron saint as well as a popular celebration of Irish culture enjoyed worldwide by the Irish and the Irish-at-heart. Folks wear green, host parties and parades, and enjoy Irish food, drink, and dancing. While the holiday holds special significance for Irish-Americans (who represent the largest chunk of the global Irish diaspora), Saint Patrick’s Day is a feast that all are invited to share in.
 
The lasting, inclusive nature of this holiday has much to do with the Irish people, their fight for freedom, and their collective experience as immigrants in America. Fittingly, Ireland’s patron saint was himself an immigrant to Ireland from his native Roman-British shores. We celebrate Patrick today because he successfully spread Christianity across 5th century Ireland – a mission that forever altered the destiny of the Irish people. Patrick is beloved for preaching in the Gaelic language, for using natural imagery to illustrate Gospel truths, and for driving away superstitious pagan beliefs.
 
Like many early saints, Patrick’s story is a mixture of legend and fact. However, beyond the colorful lore stands a real person whose deeds and words continue to inspire and affect us. To help you better know the man behind the myth, here are ten fascinating facts about Ireland’s very first bishop:
 
1. Patrick was not born Irish. While he spent the majority of his life living among and ministering to the Irish people, Patrick was a Roman Briton by birth. His exact birthdate and birthplace are uncertain, but it is believed he was born in Scotland, England, or in northern Wales around 386 A.D.
 
2. Patrick first came to Ireland as the captive of Irish pirates. Patrick was a teenager when he and “a large number of his father’s slaves” were stolen and sold into slavery by Irish raiders. This began a six-year stay of captivity in Ireland, during which Patrick’s spiritual conversion began while he labored as a shepherd.
 
3. Patrick escaped slavery with help from a dream. After years of suffering and intense prayer, a voice in his dream said, “You have fasted well. Very soon you will return to your native country” [Confessio, 17]. The voice then told him where he would find a ship, some two hundred miles away, to carry him home to Britain and his family.
 
4. Patrick spent time studying for the priesthood in France. After his return to the Britons, Patrick travelled and continued his studies in Christianity at Auxere, France (formerly Gaul), possibly visiting Marmoutier Abbey in Tours, before being ordained.
 
5. Patrick received a vision calling him back to Ireland. After his parents begged him to cease his adventures, Patrick received another dream in which a man approached him carrying letters from the Irish people and imploring his return. Fr. Jack Wintz, OFM says, “What is interesting about this dream… is that it came not as a directive from God, but as a plea from the Irish…. Patrick wasn't commanded to bring civilization or salvation to the heathens. He was invited to live among them as Christ's witness.”
 
6. Patrick’s Irish mission was unpopular. Few of Patrick’s brother clergy shared his sympathy for the Irish people, who were viewed as barbaric and hostile. Patrick’s superiors disapproved of his calling; his Confessio (first-person account of his life) was written partially as a defense and a response to critics of his mission.
 
7. Patrick wasn’t the first Christian missionary to Ireland. Fr. Jack explains, “There were some Irish Christians, mostly on the eastern and southeastern coast. Many of these were probably British slaves who had been taken into captivity by the Irish. There is a record of a Bishop Palladius being sent to Ireland before Patrick. But the mission of Patrick was unique.”
 
8. Patrick taught the Gospel through Celtic language and symbolism. Patrick preached effectively in the Gaelic tongue, and he employed pre-existing pagan symbols in transmitting the faith. While Patrick’s use of the three-leaf clover to illustrate the Trinity was likely a later addition to his legend, Patrick’s Confessio specifically details his distinctions between Irish pagan sun worship and Christian worship – including Old Latin wordplay of the words sun and Son. Irish priest Fr. Liam Lawton notes, “the Celtic cross we know today was basically a cross superimposed on the sun… Patrick convert[ed] sun worship to Son worship.” 
 
9. Patrick drove out superstitious practices, rather than snakes. Patrick is said to have driven out “all the snakes of Ireland” into the sea. While the National Museum of Ireland’s fossil collections and records provide no evidence for snake species ever having existed in Ireland, Patrick likely did the Irish a greater service through his concrete and traceable efforts to build churches and ordain Irish priests—efforts which helped to drive out the druids who had formerly dominated Irish spiritual affairs.
 
10. Patrick wasn’t always associated with the color green. Jumping forward in time – Saint Patrick’s Day celebrations first bloomed in America in the early 1700s, where the Irish diaspora developed them into the holiday we recognize today. However, says NYU professor Marion Casey, “It wasn’t until 1798, the year of the Irish Rebellion, that the color green became officially associated with the day.” Before then, “The color associated with St. Patrick was blue, as it was featured both in the royal court and on ancient Irish flags. But as the British wore red, the Irish chose to wear green, and they sang the song ‘The Wearing of the Green’ during the rebellion, cementing the color’s relevance in Irish history.”
 
Wishing you a blessed and fun Saint Patrick’s Day – Sláinte (Health)!

The lives of the Irish saints have been a wonderful inspiration in my life and faith journey. As I am a descendant of Irish immigrants to America, the hagiographies of saints like Patrick, Columba, and Brigid contain threads of Celtic culture and history that help me to understand Ireland better. These stories also help me as I seek God in daily life and in my relationships with others.

Just a few days ago, the Church celebrated the Feast of St. Brigid of Kildare. Along with St. Patrick and St. Columba, St. Brigid is considered a patron saint of Ireland. Born in the 5th century, much of her life is detailed only in myth and legend. However, in later biographies, it is agreed that Brigid was born around 450 A.D. to a Christian woman and slave named Broicsech, who herself was baptized by St. Patrick.

Brigid was a generous girl who performed deeds of charity at an early age. She was “veiled,” or accepted into religious life, and later became abbess. From this point on, the miracles attributed to Brigid are fantastic and too numerous to list here.
The most well-known story may be that of Brigid’s cloak. According to legend, Brigid once approached the King of Leinster requesting land on which to build her monastery. When the miserly king refused, Brigid asked, “Give me as much land as my cloak will cover.” Laughing at the small cloak in her arms, the king agreed. Yet Brigid asked four of her helpers to pull the cloak in opposite directions. As the helpers ran north, south, east and west, the cloak grew and grew until it covered many acres, and the king pleaded with her to stop. He agreed to donate adequate land, on which was built Brigid’s famous monastery at Kildare. The king later converted to Christianity.

For many years—pre-dating Christianity—a sacred fire that was kept by local priestesses had been burning in Kildare. Brigid continued this custom of keeping a fire alight (now representing the new light of Christianity) as she established what is considered the first monastery for women in Ireland. Incredibly, Brigid’s fire burned continuously into the 16th century! Brigid also founded a monastery for men around the same time. As a prototype for women of leadership in the faith, “Brigid held a unique position in the Irish Church and in the society of her day. As Abbess, she presided over the local Church of Kildare and was leader of a double monastery for men and women” (The Brigidine Sisters).

Brigid died on February 1st, 525 A.D., which we celebrate now as her feast day. Brigid’s Day is associated with many customs in Ireland and throughout the world, including candle-lit pilgrimages and the weaving of Brigid’s Crosses (instructions on how to make your own Brigid’s Cross here). Brigid’s feast day aligns with Imbolc, the ancient pagan festival marking the beginnings of the return of spring – another example of her legacy bridging the gap between the old world and the new.

Brigid is remembered today as a woman of contemplation and action, devoted to serving others and bringing an end to strife and conflict. She is also held as a model for creative co-operation with God, and is a favored saint of many artists, musicians, and writers.

Brigid lived and died nearly 1500 years ago, yet I am confident that the example of her life has never been more relevant. Just like Brigid’s time, this century we live in calls for dynamic conflict resolution skills and creative community-building efforts. Like Brigid, we too must protect and care for the vulnerable among us. And for a Church seeking better ways to engage and accompany young people regarding discernment and faith, the model of a young woman and entrepreneurial leader like Brigid offers clear insight for how to engage and empower the next generation.
 

“Who did you pick as your confirmation Saint?”
“St. Vincent!”
“Oh cool, St. Vincent DePaul, that’s great!”
No…not him…St. Vincent Pallotti…”
“Who is that?”
 
The name game for saints with common names is a frequent and sometimes frustrating occurrence, as is often the case with St. Vincent Pallotti—my patron, confirmation saint, and friend. Pallotti was many things: the friend of popes and cardinals, confessor of many of the religious in Rome at the various colleges, and great supporter of the laity. Throughout his 55 years of life, Pallotti did everything for the infinite glory of God (infinitam Dei gloriam). His life, message, and charism were life-giving and meaningful while he was alive, as well as today.
 
Many saints can seem out of our reach—St. Joseph of Cupertino is known for flying and St. Padre Pio of Pietrelcina received the stigmata. While there are accounts of St. Vincent Pallotti levitating and bilocating, his life and legacy are not marked solely by these acts of mysticism. One of the main reasons that Pallotti’s example resonates so deeply with me in 2020—170 years after his death—is because of how humble and “normal” his life was. Now, “normal” is quite relative, but in comparison to many well-known saints, Pallotti’s life was normal, even boring.
 
Pallotti’s parents were devout and his love for Christ and the Church was evident from a young age. There are many stories of St. Vincent’s great care for the poor, including a story of him giving away his bed to a beggar. St. Vincent was not a particularly good student as a young boy, and it was not until his mother prayed a novena to the Holy Spirit for his education that Pallotti became a model student. As a priest of the Diocese of Rome, Pallotti spent much of his time hearing confessions. After a cholera epidemic struck Rome in the mid-1800s, Pallotti founded a home for orphaned girls. He set up night schools so that working men could receive an education. He was also a mathematician. In fact, it was in his study of calculus that he came to understand God as Infinite Love. There was no deed too small, no task unworthy of his effort.
 
To the 2020 Catholic Church in the United States, Pallotti’s great interest in collaboration with and co-responsibility of the laity might not seem outrageous, but in the 1830s and 1840s in Rome, it was. Many of Pallotti’s closest collaborators were lay people, one of whom was Blessed Elisabetta Sanna. He also made sure that the various ministries and apostolates that he established involved the laity not just as pawns or placeholders, but as central actors in the life of the Church.
 
St. Vincent Pallotti can teach us so much. He struggled greatly with anger and pride; in this we learn that we are not alone in our personal struggles. He lost many of his siblings when he was young; in this we learn that we are not alone in our loss. He turned people’s attention to God when he distributed pamphlets during the Roman carnival, or when he would drop a reliquary from his sleeve so that the Romans who would come to kiss his hand (as was customary to do to priests at the time) would kiss it instead of him. In this, we learn that we too can persevere when the world around us tells us things that are contrary to what we believe.
 
I learn from St. Vincent Pallotti every day. He is a model for me in perseverance, humility, and devotion to God. When I sin and fall, I remember his personal reminder that he was but “nothingness and sin.” When I look at the apostolic works that I take part in, the ones that are looked down upon or seen as unrealistic, I think back upon Pallotti and the same judgements that many must have made about him. The greatest influence that St. Vincent Pallotti has had on me is the image of God as Infinite Love—that Infinite Love can love me at my best and my worst. The Infinite Love of God is what balances the scale with sin on one side and being the beloved of God on the other; it reminds us who God is in his greatest depth.
 
My life and my faith have been so greatly touched by St. Vincent Pallotti and I am deeply thankful for him. May he continue to intercede for us all and may we, as we undergo our apostolic works, look to him as a mentor, a guide, and a dear friend.
 
St. Vincent Pallotti, pray for us. 
 
To learn more about St. Vincent Pallotti, please click here.