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We Are Made For Heaven

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Today’s official liturgical celebration is “The Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary.” This is significant if we understand that there are three categories of celebrations throughout the year: Solemnities, Feasts, and Memorials.

“Solemnities” are the highest degree of Catholic celebration and so we are obliged to participate in Mass on these days – Sundays, Easter, Christmas, Pentecost, and other Holy Days of Obligation are solemn celebrations of the most important mysteries of our faith.

These are higher than “Feast Days,” which are not days of obligation, but are set apart as days to honor special saints and events of salvation history, such as the Apostles, the Archangels, the Visitation, the Presentation, and the Baptism of the Lord.

The final level of importance on the liturgical calendar, and the one we encounter most often, are “Memorials,” which usually honor the saints, though there are Marian Memorials as well, such as Our Lady of Fatima (May 13) and the Queenship of Mary (August 22).

With that little liturgical lesson done, it is worth asking: Why do we rank the Assumption – a dogma that was not “official” until 1950 – as a solemnity, along with Christmas and Easter?

Pius XII, in the Apostolic Constitution Munificentissimus Deus, stated: “By the authority of our Lord Jesus Christ, of the Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul, and by our own authority, we pronounce, declare, and define it to be a divinely revealed dogma: that the Immaculate Mother of God, the ever Virgin Mary, having completed the course of her earthly life, was assumed body and soul into heavenly glory.”

Mary’s Assumption into heaven, body and soul, means that the resurrection is not limited to Jesus alone; where the Head has gone, we are called to follow, body and soul. Knowing with the certainty of the Church’s infallible teaching that Mary’s whole being, body and soul, was taken into heaven, we have the certainty of knowing that there is a place for our glorified bodies as well.

So, onthis Solemnity, we are called to participate togetherinthe Eucharist and look to Mary ina particular way: as one like us (a creature, thougha sinless one) who exists to bring Jesus to us andto bring us to Jesus, andwho is alreadyfullyin heaven.

There are two human bodies in heaven and they are our BROTHER and our MOTHER, whose two Hearts beat as one with love for us! In our participation in the Eucharist we are joined already to those in heaven and to the Body of Christ on earth, and we are reminded that our destiny is beyond what we see and touch right here and now, that we are called to an eternity of love and belonging and peace beyond all understanding.

And that is a solemn celebration indeed.

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Kathryn Mulderink, MA, is married to Robert, Station Manager for Holy Family Radio. Together they have seven children (including newly ordained Father Rob and seminarian Luke ;-), and two grandchildren. She is a Secular Discalced Carmelite and has published five books and many articles. Over the last 25 years, she has worked as a teacher, headmistress, catechist, Pastoral Associate, and DRE. Currently, she serves the Church as a writer and voice talent for Catholic Radio, by publishing and speaking, and by collaborating with the diocesan Office of Catechesis, various parishes, and other ministries to lead others to encounter Christ and engage their faith. Her website is https://www.kathryntherese.com/.

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A Saint for our Times

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“The most deadly poison of our time is indifference.”
-St. Maximilian Kolbe

In this beautiful creation, there is much to be grateful for – community, nature, and wonders of the world that we can contemplate. Amongst all the things we have to be thankful for, we must acknowledge the injustice and hurt that exists in our time. When we watch the news, we can’t help but be torn apart by the devastation we see, the disrespect of human dignity, and ultimately a message of hate. The news makes me so anxious – it makes me sad to ponder all of the hurt other brothers and sisters are experiencing – murder, genocide, persecution.

While I do not like to ponder these issues, I become part of the problem if I live under a rock and do not stand for what is right. How do we learn from history if we don’t know history? How do we know if individuals in our world need an advocate if we are not aware of the current persecution they are facing? Christ calls us to stand by our brothers and sisters. When I am unsure what to do, I think back to the acronym WWJD (What would Jesus do?) to guide my actions. If Christ saw individuals being tortured, persecuted and looked down upon what would He do? We can read throughout Scripture that Christ was not afraid to speak the truth, to stand up for the dignity of others.

Christ is love, and He loves the entire human race. His love has no bounds, all He asks is the conversion of heart and for all of us to love our neighbors as ourselves. Every human being is our neighbor – no matter their background, beliefs, sexual orientation, race, etc. We are called to love all, for love is what will conquer any evil in this world. As Catholics, we must be beacons of love amidst these times of dispute and trial; we must be united to stand for the dignity of human life from the moment of conception to natural death. We must meet our neighbor where they are and teach the truth of Christ through our actions, through our love.

An essential saint of our times, whose feast day we celebrate today, has shown us exactly what this love of Christ looks like, in the love that he shared with a stranger. St. Maximilian Kolbe was a Polish priest that gave His life for a fellow prisoner in Auschwitz. A prisoner from his barracks had escaped, and so the SS Guards lined up the remaining men for selection to death by starvation. As Fr. Kolbe watched the selection, one of them began to cry because he was a father and husband. Fr. Kolbe knew that this was the time he had prepared for, the time that he would share the lasting impact and meaning of loving our neighbor. He stood up to the guards and said he would take the man’s place – without protest the guards let Fr. Kolbe replace the man in the line of people to die by starvation. It took weeks before St. Maximilian Kolbe passed away, and as he died he is said to have great love and joy upon his face, singing praises until his last moments before dying by lethal injection. Looking back to the early times of St. Maximilian Kolbe’s life he had a vision of Our Lady holding two crowns – one white (purity of the priesthood) and one red (martyrdom). When given a choice, he took both crowns and accepted his life’s mission, living the love of Christ in all he did and sharing this with everyone he encountered.

St. Maximilian Kolbe’s story of martyrdom may seem extreme to many in their daily lives today – how can we all live out this radical love? While we may not all be called to martyrdom for the faith, we can live with a love on fire like Fr. Kolbe by not being indifferent when we see injustices in our world. When it comes to global and national human rights issues in our world, we must not be lukewarm but stand for the love that the Church is built upon – love for every human life, no matter where they are in the spectrum of life or what background they come from. As we grow to love others, they will learn the true teachings of Christ, for Christ is the ultimate teacher and the ultimate lover. When this task seems daunting, we may ask for the intercession of our Blessed Mother, someone that St. Maximilian Kolbe had a great devotion to – she will hear our prayers and stand with us, alongside Christ, as we live out the lives of Catholic discipleship in Jesus Christ. God bless you as you face times of speaking out, as you face times of injustice in your own life, and may the Holy Spirit give you the wisdom you need as you stand for all human life.

“For Jesus Christ, I am prepared to suffer still more.”
-St. Maximilian Kolbe

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Nathalie Shultz is a joyful convert to the Catholic faith and a competitive swimmer with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD).  She loves to share her passion for Catholicism with others, including her conversion story and how God continues to work miracles in her life through her OCD. She is the Director of Religious Education for the North Allegan Catholic Collaborative of parishes. Nathalie is married to her best friend, Tommy Shultz. Her favorite saints include St. Peter the Apostle, St. Teresa of Calcutta, and St. John Paul II.  She is also a huge fan of C.S. Lewis. If you have any questions for Nathalie, or just want her to pray for you, you can email her at rodzinkaministry@gmail.com.

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Children and the Kingdom of God

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Today’s Gospel is truly one of my favorites! Perhaps it’s because I’ve worked in schools for 3 years. But my favorite thing about being around kids, no matter what age they are, is being able to watch them learn. It’s almost like you can actually see their minds growing. So often we hear that children are like sponges…they soak up whatever is around them. More often than not, that’s said within the context of “Be careful what you say around kids, you never know what they will repeat.” But I think we need to change our perspective.

How beautiful that children are like sponges. They soak up whatever is around them. That means that when they are surrounded by goodness, they soak up and become goodness. When they are around the Word of God, they soak up and repeat the Word of God. When they are around people who are leading others towards Heaven, they in turn learn how to lead others to Heaven.

Children look at the world with wonder and awe. They ask questions. They desire to know who created them, how they were created, and why they are here. Children have no fear to ask these questions whereas, as adults, I think we are afraid and ashamed to ask these questions because we feel like we should have all the answers. This is why Christ told His disciples, “Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the Kingdom of heaven.” He desires for us to trust him. Christ wants us to humble ourselves before Him and learn from Him. He wants us to sit at His feet and hear His words in the same manner in which a child sits at the feet of his loving parents.

St. Zelie Martin–mother of St. Therese of Lisieux–wrote, “When we had our children, our ideas changed somewhat. We lived only for them. They were all our happiness, and we never found any except in them. In short, nothing was too difficult, and the world was no longer a burden to us.” The presence of children reminds us of what it was like to be a child. To be inquisitive, to not hold bitterness against the world, to know who we are because we know those who made us.

May we be reminded of the innocence of childhood and may we always be able to look towards Heaven as a journey home to the One who made us.

Sts. Louis and Zelie Martin, pray for us!

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Dakota currently lives in Denver, CO is studying for her Master’s in Spanish, and loves her job as an elementary school librarian. She is married to the love of her life, Ralph. In her spare time, she reads, goes to breweries, and watches baseball. Dakota’s favorite saints are St. John Paul II (how could it not be?) and St. José Luis Sánchez del Río. She is passionate about her faith and considers herself blessed at any opportunity to share that faith with others. Check out more of her writing at https://dakotaleonard16.blogspot.com.

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Subject of the Lord our God

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“Something very deep and mysterious, very holy and sacred, is taking place in our lives right where we are, and the more attentive we become the more we will begin to see and hear it. The more our spiritual sensitivities come to the surface of our daily lives, the more we will discover—uncover—a new presence in our lives”. Henri Nouwen

I was intrigued by this passage several days ago. Can this be true even amidst the numerous tragedies happening in our country? Yes. It is true. One of the most powerful testaments to this comes from Deuteronomy in today’s readings. [“Israel” and “Egypt” have been replaced with “America” for effect.]

Dt10:12-13, 16-21  “And now, America, what does the LORD, your God, ask of you but to fear the LORD, your God, and follow his ways exactly, to love and serve the LORD, your God, with all your heart and all your soul, to keep the commandments and statutes of the LORD that I am commanding you today for your own well-being?… Circumcise your hearts, therefore, and be no longer stiff-necked. For the LORD, your God, is the God of gods, the LORD of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who has no favorites, accepts no bribes; who executes justice for the orphan and the widow, and befriends the alien, feeding and clothing him. So you too must befriend the alien, for you were once aliens yourselves in the land of America. The LORD, your God, shall you fear, and him shall you serve;  hold fast to him and by his name you shall swear”.

These words written long ago call to us, asking us to be attentive to what is going on in our lives today.  I believe we are being called to look at the ten commandments with fresh eyes and re-evaluate own moral focus and virtues. It is time to take notice of our families, communities, and nation. Look at the scene around you; Are the individuals treated in the manner in which you expect, in the way you want your loved ones to be treated?

The Gospel acclamation today states that “God has called you through the Gospel to possess the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ” (2Thes 2:14).

As you continue this day, I want to leave you with a Franciscan Benediction. Please consider asking for these blessings to help in your future actions and reflections.

May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships so that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you may work for justice, freedom and peace.

May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger and war, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and to turn their pain into joy.

And may God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in the world, so that you can do what others claim cannot be done, to bring justice and kindness to all our children, and the poor. Amen.

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Beth is part of the customer care team at Diocesan. She brings a unique depth of experience to the group due to her time spent in education, parish ministries, sales and the service industry over the last 25 yrs. She is a practicing spiritual director as well as a Secular Franciscan (OFS). Beth is quick to offer a laugh, a prayer or smile to all she comes in contact with. Reach her here bprice@diocesan.com.

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Those Who Sow Bountifully Will Reap Bountifully

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Today’s date marks an important day in my family’s history. It is the day my dad was ordained a Permanent Deacon. As of today, we have had an ordained minister in our family for 17 years. This has been a singular blessing for us, as he has been able to baptize numerous grandchildren and even witness a few of our wedding vows. I mean, not many people can say, “Yeah, my Dad baptized my kids!” As we celebrate his anniversary, today’s readings remind me of one of my Dad’s biggest virtues: generosity.

Brothers and sisters:
Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully. Each must do as already determined, without sadness or compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. Moreover, God is able to make every grace abundant for you, so that in all things, always having all you need, you may have an abundance for every good work.

As it is written:
He scatters abroad, he gives to the poor; his righteousness endures forever. The one who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed and increase the harvest of your righteousness.
-2 Cor 9:6-10

Growing up, we had very little since my mom stayed home with the eight of us and we all went to Catholic schools, but no matter how little we had, my parents never stopped giving. I remember accompanying my mom on trips in our big red Econoline van to carry clothing to the migrants who worked in the apple fields. We would also pick up day-old bread and bring it out to the Carmelite nuns. I would go to refugees’ houses with my dad to bring them furniture or help them fix something. Every day at dinner we would pray for the children we sponsored in the Philippines, affording them daily food and clothing and a decent education. I know there are many, many more things they did for others that I never even knew about.

In return, God was not outdone in generosity. Whenever we were short, a check would show up in the mail or a hot meal at our door. When my mom got sick, neighbors and friends stepped up to take care of us. We never lacked anything and we never went hungry. God always took care of us. I truly believe that the more generous we are to others, the more generous God is to us. He shines down His thankful smiles for our willingness to help another one of His beloved children. So here’s an encouraging word to increase your giving so that God may “make every grace abundant for you, so that in all things, [you will always have] all you need.”

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Tami grew up in Western Michigan, a middle child in a large Catholic family. She spent early young adulthood as a missionary in Mexico, studying theology and philosophy, then worked and traveled extensively before finishing her Bachelor’s Degree in Western Kentucky. She loves tackling home improvement projects, finding fun ways to keep her four boys occupied, quiet conversation with the hubby and finding unique ways to love. She works at Diocesan, is a guest blogger on CatholicMom.com and BlessedIsShe.net, runs her own blog at https://togetherandalways.wordpress.com and has been doing Spanish translations on the side for almost 20 years.

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Take up your Cross with a Smile

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Last week Friday I was positive about the direction this post would take, based on today’s readings. I love the Deuteronomy reading when Moses, almost chiding the Israelites about the wonders they had seen; the wonders God performed for them to bring them out of Egypt and to freedom. The Israelites did not always appreciate it.

And then we have today’s Gospel about taking up your cross and following Christ. We are told that this is the way to gain eternal life in the Kingdom, regardless of what we gain here on earth.

Yup! I really thought I had this down. Until this past Saturday, when I attended the funeral of my friend and neighbor, Bob. Bob and his wife Ann live next to me in my condo complex (so close that we cannot open our condo doors at the same time!). I’d call over there, and Bob would ask if I was calling “long-distance”, or if I was visiting, he’d ask if I needed a ride home. It always made me smile. I’ve known them for years, but there is always more to learn about someone’s story.

My original instincts for today was to take the route through the Gospel that, while carrying our own crosses in life, big or small, we would ease our own burdens by somehow easing the burdens of another. And, quite frankly, that is exactly what Bob did all his life. He made people smile. And that made people happy. And that would if only for a few short moments, make life a bit more bearable for some.

Now, I’m not a social media person. I don’t have a Facebook page. Bob had one. I now feel a bit cheated that I was not connected to him in this way, also. Because all I heard at the funeral was about how Bob’s page made people smile. Often he would tell me that he was going to “check on his peeps.”  We were all Bob’s Peeps. He posted his corny Dad Jokes, as he called them; every day he would in some way wish everyone a good whatever day it was. He loved Wednesdays, Hump Day. His Facebook page was called “If You Grew Up in Grand Rapids/Kent County You Remember” – and it had 23,000 followers. Yes, 23,000! People he would never meet or get to know. But they knew Bob.

He wore smiley face suspenders and considered the smiley face his family crest! Now come-on, you’ve just got to smile at that!

Bob was 72 when he died last week. His last few years were hard ones because of medical issues and complications thereof. But he always tried to put on a happy face when with others. I don’t recall him ever really complaining about his health, but to occasionally mention that walking was getting harder. According to Ann, he was even cracking jokes to the doctors when he was having toes amputated due to diabetes. I expect the smile put on the faces of the doctors also made their job easier.

The point of all of this is that we can, no matter what cross life has given us to bear, make the cross borne by others easier to bear. It often doesn’t take much: a smile, a joke, a warm handshake, or a hug.

God Bless.

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Jeanne Penoyar, an Accounts Manager at Diocesan, is a Lector at St. Anthony of Padua parish in Grand Rapids, MI. Jeanne has worked in parish ministry as an RCIA director, in Liturgy, and as a Cantor. Working word puzzles and reading fill her spare time. Jeanne can be reached at jpenoyar@diocesan.com.

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Praying with Peter

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“Thou art Peter and upon this rock, I shall build my church.”

These are the first words I saw when I walked into my new church. I had been offered my new job just a few days prior and wanted to attend Mass as I began to get to know my new parish. The words to this verse are written on an arc above the sanctuary.

When I took my seat in the pews, I finally got my first look at the sanctuary space and I was struck by the full image: a stone mosaic of Peter kneeling at the feet of Jesus, who is handing down the keys to the kingdom to the first Bishop of Rome as a miter falls on his head and the verse above it all.

You see, before I even started working at St. Peter Church, I’ve always been fascinated by this particular Gospel passage. There is such a stark contrast in the words spoken by Peter across the entire passage.

Today’s Gospel begins with a question posed by Jesus to the disciples, almost like a survey. I picture it in modern times with Jesus asking, “Hey, what’s the gossip? What’s the scuttlebut? What are people saying about me?” But then the question turns personal.

I’ve reflected on that personal question in prayer many times. Who do YOU say that I am? I feel like my answer depends on a lot of factors, where I’m at in my spiritual life. When things are going well, I’m not afraid to claim Him as Lord of my life who is abundant with blessings. On the flip side, during periods of desolation, I hope that I am able to turn to the Lord as Comforter.

Regardless, I find myself wishing I had the faith and courage shown in Peter’s response, confessing Jesus to be “the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Look at how Peter is rewarded for his faith! With the great responsibility of being the rock, the foundation of the Church who holds the keys to the kingdom.

Peter continues to show that same, steady faith throughout the rest of the Gospels, right? He wishes! Just a few short verses later, Jesus proclaims Peter to be an obstacle to Him. “Get behind me Satan.” Where did that faith go?

We can learn just as much from these words as we can from Peter’s great confession of faith. We can learn not to be our own obstacle on our journey of faith and especially on the journeys of others.

Today, I encourage you to pray with Peter. Pray with this great extreme we see in his words, that we may always be able to proclaim in great faith that Jesus is our Lord and that we don’t follow the hard-heartedness and hard-headedness that becomes an obstacle to Christ’s plan of salvation.

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Erin is a Cleveland native and graduate of the Franciscan University of Steubenville. Following graduation, she began volunteering in youth ministry at her home parish of Holy Family Church. Her first “big girl” job was in collegiate sports information where, after a busy two years in the profession on top of serving the youth, she took a leap of faith and followed the Lord’s call to full-time youth ministry at St. Peter Church. She still hopes to use her communication arts degree as a freelance writer and statistician, though. You can catch her on the Clarence & Peter Podcast on YouTube as well as follow her on Twitter @erinmadden2016.

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It Just Has To Be Somebody

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When I was in school—I went to a small Catholic girls’ school—I started writing. A lot. My reason for this burst of literary activity was revenge. I was most definitely not one of the cool girls, and as I stood in line for this or that and watched them (and watched them watching me, because they could only gauge their coolness when contrasting it with someone who wasn’t), I was determined to get even with them by someday publishing a novel à clef detailing how awful they’d been to me. A little like Chaucer threatening, “I will eviscerate you in fiction.” He carried through; I never did.

It was my literary ambitions that had put me there in the first place because they made me studious. I worked hard in school. I didn’t smoke in the girls’ room. The worst behavior I ever showed was in sliding down the banister in the great hall. So I was excluded.

It didn’t matter that it was me; as a person, I was irrelevant. If it hadn’t been me, it would have been somebody else. It just had to be somebody. For a group to feel exclusive, by definition, someone has to be excluded from it. There’s an “us” and a “not-us;” it’s how we all form group identities.

I didn’t look any different from the cool girls. I did act differently, though. I had clear goals and was determined to reach them. When I wasn’t studying or writing, I was out with my equestrian club getting blue ribbons at horse shows. I was driven to achieve. The cool girls didn’t see the point. Like me, they came from affluent backgrounds. They didn’t have to try as hard as everybody else. I showed the lie to their assumption of extra privilege, so I wasn’t one of them.

And I’d lie if I said it didn’t hurt.

I was thinking about that exclusion when I read today’s scripture passages, especially Matthew’s gospel. For all that we consider them saints today, Jesus’ disciples sometimes exhibited the worst of human behavior. Imagine the scene: they’ve taken their ministry on the road, traveled into Lebanon, when a woman from the area begs Jesus to cure her daughter. The disciples are brusque. “Send her away!” they say imperiously. It’s pretty much the same reaction they’d had earlier when Jesus proposed feeding a crowd of five thousand people. “Send them away,” was the disciples’ verdict; “feed them,” said Jesus instead.

We like that story. Jesus compassionate, Jesus making a miracle happen, Jesus using it as a teaching moment.

But this story strikes a discordant note, doesn’t it? Because Jesus says no. Not because she was a bad person, but because she wasn’t one of the group. Essentially he says, “I’m not here for you; I’m here for them.” And then he goes further still and, in a statement most of us find extremely uncomfortable, he compares her to a dog. She’s quick with her comeback—even dogs get scraps—but that doesn’t obviate his initial response to her, and neither does his subsequent healing of her daughter.

The problem with this passage is the light—or lack of light—it casts on Jesus. We want him to be fully human, but we don’t want him to be too human. It’s uncomfortable to see our own prejudices reflected in him.

Matthew doesn’t clean up this story or try to make it pretty. Matthew dares to give us a very human Jesus, and he paints a specific picture of this woman. She is called a Canaanite, which was an outdated and possibly derogatory term (by Jesus’ time, the people of the region were called Phoenicians, not Canaanites). Either way, she is not one of Jesus’ people. She is definitely on the “not us” side of the equation.

Yet she somehow knows about Jesus. She knows he has the power to heal. She knows he’s already fed a multitude of people. After all that, surely there has to be a little compassion left for her and her daughter! And, understanding what she’s asking, Jesus reverses course and heals the child.

This story shows Jesus enlarging his understanding of the people of God. He saw and heard a fuller revelation of God in the voice and the face of this foreign woman. She was not one of his people, but she was one of God’s people.

Jesus changed his attitude that day, and today’s reading challenges us to do the same. Every generation sees different people as “not-us,” as not part of that cool girls’ group at school. We need someone to not belong in order to assure ourselves that we do belong. And our insecurities at being not cool enough, along with our fear of anything or anyone different from us, make it critical that we continue to belong and continue to banish or refuse entry to others.

There are myriad people in the world from a metaphorical Tyre and Sidon. Different from us in race, customs, religion, gender. Who are today’s “Canaanites” who we feel can be treated as dogs? Are they Muslim? Women? Central Americans?

Jesus learned the importance of inclusion, of making sure everyone—not just his little band—had the opportunity to be part of God’s kingdom on earth. Is it really okay for us to do any less?

I don’t think any of those girls in school remembers my name, perhaps not even my existence. But I remember theirs, everyone. And how much what they did to me hurt.

With God’s help, I’ll never hurt anyone else like that. Not ever.

Are you in?

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Jeannette de Beauvoir is a writer and editor with the digital department of Pauline Books & Media, working on projects as disparate as newsletters, book clubs, ebooks, and retreats that support the apostolate of the Daughters of St. Paul at http://www.pauline.org.

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Be Transformed

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While sitting down to write the reflection for today’s Gospel I was stuck on what to say. I have felt lukewarm in my faith lately, struggling to find the passion and fire that I typically have since converting to the Catholic faith. Life has been so crazy, but good, and I tend to lose track of all the things I need to be grateful for when I hit a slump in faith.

After reading the Gospel a few times I started to think about the word transfiguration. When I think of this word I think of being changed or transformed, and ultimately becoming the saints we are destined to become. We are called to be dazzling and pure with the Lord, and Christ has purchased for us the rewards that we may gain in eternal life. How can I not think of this and automatically be on my knees in thanksgiving?

If I am being honest, I think it is easier to live a life of lukewarm faith, going through the motions. It is harder to stand up for what is right, to live a life full of joy, and to trust God in all the ways He is transforming us. While struggling with depression and anxiety, it is easier for me to feel sorry for myself rather than reflect upon all of the blessings in my life. Anxiety is very debilitating and I pray for all those that carry this cross on a daily basis – be encouraged that with continual prayer and pursuit of Christ He will help us carry this cross on a daily basis, even when we don’t realize it. No matter your cross, ask yourself one question: how is God using this cross to make you more like Christ?

I believe that ultimately this is what God was speaking to me through today’s Gospel: we are all called to be transformed, and we have to go through the highs and lows of spiritual life in order to reach this transformation. We must experience all of these facets of the human experience so that we may more fully realize our call to live according to our original state in Creation and our identity in the Lord.  

Look to St. Teresa of Calcutta for inspiration: she experienced silence while praying to God for decades of her life, but she consistently chose joy and pursued Christ. She exercised virtue and good will in choosing the road that wasn’t easy, a road that was narrow, a road full of trials – ultimately this road led to sainthood and deep relationship with Christ.

Be strong, be brave, and be persistent. No matter how many times you are knocked down ask Christ to help you back up. He is always there and will always be there – all He desires is that we ask great things of Him and trust. Please know of my prayers for you as we all endure the daily struggle and grow in virtue as we choose Love over comfort.

“Joy is prayer; joy is strength; joy is love; joy is a net of love by which you can catch souls.” –St. Teresa of Calcutta

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Nathalie Shultz is a joyful convert to the Catholic faith and a competitive swimmer with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD).  She loves to share her passion for Catholicism with others, including her conversion story and how God continues to work miracles in her life through her OCD. She is the Director of Religious Education for the North Allegan Catholic Collaborative of parishes. Nathalie is married to her best friend, Tommy Shultz. Her favorite saints include St. Peter the Apostle, St. Teresa of Calcutta, and St. John Paul II.  She is also a huge fan of C.S. Lewis. If you have any questions for Nathalie, or just want her to pray for you, you can email her at ignitedinchristnacc@gmail.com.

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In Our Pain

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Have you ever watched a movie or read a book, then learned a fact about it that changes everything? That was me today. I’ve always heard Jesus’ miracle of the fish and the loaves, but I never knew that it was literally right after Jesus finds out about the death of John the Baptist. I always thought that the miracle was just another day for Jesus, walking from city to city, preaching to huge crowds every time he stepped outside. 

I was wrong. This time was so different.

On this day, Jesus was in mourning. His cousin, with whom he met in the womb, the one who baptized him in the Holy Spirit, had been murdered and beheaded. 

While we know that Jesus is divine, we also know that he is human. He has emotions, just like us. Understandably so, when he heard of his cousin’s death, he withdrew to a deserted place by himself. 

When we are mourning a death, a relationship, an injustice, we too want to withdraw from the world. In our pain, we need to take the time to be sad and upset. We need time to process. Even Jesus, our mighty savior, knew that sometimes we need to be alone for a moment. 

However, as Genesis 2:6 says, “It is not good for man to be alone.” Jesus came back to where he had left his disciples and saw the crowds that had gathered in his absence. He did not send them away because he wasn’t in the mood.  Even while experiencing grief, “his heart was moved with pity for them, and he cured their sick.” Then, once the disciples tell Jesus that it’s late and dinner time, He does not agree to dismiss them so they can buy their own food. Instead, he provides them with food by the miracle of multiplying the fish and loaves, feeding five thousand men and many more women and children. 

Like I said before, I knew about the miracle. I even remember when I first heard about this miracle. It was when I was about 5 or 6, watching a cartoon on local TV channel. I remember seeing the bread and fish shimmer and appear in everyone’s hands as the crowds were filled with shock. 

Today was like hearing it, really hearing it, for the first time. 

To know that Jesus was in mourning? To know that even while He was dealing with the death of His cousin that He knew before birth, He did this for us? That blows my mind.

It blows my mind because when I’m in emotional pain, I find it hard to get past the part where I withdraw to a deserted place by myself. I struggle to find my way past the hurt and injustice. I forget to empathize and sympathize with others’ problems. Yet, today, we read about how Jesus is able to mourn and still puts His people and the glory of God above His own pain. 

I want to glorify God in all that I do, no matter my pain, and for this reason, I pray:

Dear Lord,

As we mourn, let us find Your plan for us,
For Your glory is greater than our pain.

As we mourn, help us to withdraw into our faith and not the darkness,

For You are our rock in turbulent times.

As we mourn, remind us of Your presence in our lives,

For You are forever by our sides. 

Finally, My God, 

As we mourn, allow us to be open to others,
For we are not alone in mourning nor on this journey of life. 

If you are mourning the loss of a loved one, I urge you to read this article for some guidance and helpful words from Fr. Eamon Tobin.

Veronica Alvarado is a born and raised Texan currently living in Michigan. Since graduating from Texas A&M University, Veronica has published various articles in the Catholic Diocese of Austin’s official newspaper, the Catholic Spirit, and other local publications. She now works as the Content Specialist in Diocesan’s Web Department.