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Fiber and Flesh, and the O Antiphons

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Each year the Church presents this genealogy of Jesus, which we can easily skim over when reading because the names do not hold much meaning for us. But this genealogy is significant because it establishes the historical fact of Christ, and his entry into a very human line of very real and imperfect people. Even the great poet, King David (the Hebrew letters of whose name (דוד) add up to the number fourteen, establishing the structure of Jesus’ genealogy as three sets of fourteen generations), was a great sinner.

And yet, this is how God comes to us, entering into human history, into a human family, into human time, in human flesh. “What tremendous dignity God acknowledges mankind to possess when he reveals to it a mystery that has been contained within the very fiber and flesh of generation after generation! God reveals to man not only the being of God: God reveals man to himself in all his hidden possibilities… Who could have suspected humanity’s hidden talent to be able to bear God, not as a cup bears water or as the hand bears a weight, but in the most intimate, physiological sense possible: as a mother bears her child, with everything that implies for the interpenetration of two beings?” (Leiva-Merikakis, Fire of Mercy, Heart of the Word)

In the Incarnation, we come face to face with the Mysterious Fact that we, too, are caught up in a biological and spiritual genealogy, each with the possibility and responsibility of bearing God’s Presence within us and among us, for others.

Today we also begin the “O Antiphons,” recited for the next seven days before the Magnificat during Vespers of the Liturgy of the Hours, and as the Alleluia Antiphon before the Gospel at Mass. These antiphons have been chanted since the early centuries of the Church, each one highlighting a title for the Messiah found in the prophecy of Isaiah. Most people recognize these antiphons from the popular Advent hymn, O come, O come, Emmanuel. We express our longing and pray and beseech the Messiah to come to us, invoking imagery from the Old Testament that has helped us understand our relationship with God for thousands of years. Each year, we acknowledge this patrimony and beseech the Lord to come to us anew. These supplications are reminders of preparation for the Parousia – the final Coming of Christ in glory –  the long-range focus of our Christmas preparations.

If, on Christmas Eve, we look back and start at the last title in the O Antiphons and take the first letter of each one (Emmanuel, Rex, Oriens, Clavis, Radix, Adonai, Sapientia) the Latin words ERO CRAS are formed, meaning “Tomorrow, I will come.” The monks arranged these antiphons with definite purpose!

Maybe you can recite the day’s antiphon before Grace at dinner each night. Maybe you can explore even more deeply the ancient meanings at prayer. Because praying with the Church is a way to grow in holiness!

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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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We Are Children of the Light

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I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume I’m not the only person pleased to be approaching the end of 2020. It’s been a year filled with pain, with uncertainty, with despair, with fear… the list can go on and on, and none of it is pretty. You may be mourning loved ones who have died, adding a layer of grief to your normally festive preparations for Christmas. There are several people to whom I would usually be mailing gift packages this month. I have no gifts; the people aren’t there anymore to receive them.

It’s certainly the darkest year many of us have ever experienced; and yet I have to share that something happened a couple of weeks ago, something that changed my perspective on this season and its place in this terrible year. I’d been feeling a little “bah, humbug,” about everything, even the beautiful liturgical season of Advent, and hadn’t even bothered setting up my traditional Advent wreath. And then, on the Monday of the first week of Advent, I was sitting and working at my desk when the sun broke through the ever-present clouds outside—for I live on Cape Cod, and our winters are all about storms and wind—and a ray of light came in through the window and singled me out. Dazzling. Blinding. Bright. Warm, even.

And in that moment, in that light, I remembered where we are. In Advent. The season of promise, the season of new beginnings, the season of God-loves-you-so-much. Who was I, to consider my feelings and my experiences this one year more important, more significant than the mystery of the Incarnation? Something much bigger was going on here, something that dwarfed any human experience. It felt as though a spotlight had been turned on me, and a voice inside reminded me: don’t forget, I am with you always.

It wasn’t a road-to-Damascus event; the sun faded and I went back to my writing, seemingly unchanged by the experience. And yet those words kept echoing in the background of my daily tasks and activities. Don’t forget, I am with you always.

And a few days later, when I turned to today’s readings so I could prepare to write this meditation, I was struck by how much they reflected back to me that sudden understanding in that ray of sunlight. Isaiah, it’s not to be forgotten, was speaking to a people who’d had more than one iteration of our 2020 in their lives—and their parents’ lives, and their grandparent’s lives… these were people well-acquainted with fear and uncertainty and grief and despair. And Isaiah says to them, “Let justice descend, O heavens, like dew from above, like gentle rain let the skies drop it down. Let the earth open and salvation bud forth; let justice spring up!”

It’s a message that was sorely needed by the Israelites… and by us.

But there’s more. Listen as the psalmist adds his bit: “Near indeed is his salvation to those who fear him, glory dwelling in our land. Kindness and truth shall meet; justice and peace shall kiss. Truth shall spring out of the earth, and justice shall look down from heaven.”

Don’t forget, I am with you always. Like the people who first heard Isaiah’s words, we’re also weary, exhausted even, longing for the day when justice, wholeness, and truth are restored, when God’s people can live in peace and security. We long for God’s rule, when death, injustice, and pandemic are no more. Our troubles are real, but they’re not the whole story. These are dark days, yes; but God’s promise is of a light the darkness cannot overcome. “Near indeed is his salvation.”

A Christmas movie you may be familiar with is How The Grinch Stole Christmas. In the story, the love and witness of a little girl causes the evil Grinch’s heart to swell, and he comes to understand the Christmas spirit as love and generosity and joy. That shaft of sunlight illuminated more than my desk; it illuminated my heart, and reminded me of something I’ve been forgetting, immersed as I’ve been in the dread and depression that I’ve felt shrouding the world. The illumination? That we are children of the light. St. Paul himself told us: “Live as children of light—for the fruit of the light is found in all that is good and right and true” (Eph. 5:8-9).

Today’s Gospel underlines the point: “Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor have the good news proclaimed to them.” Advent isn’t a season that tells us everything is fine; Advent tells us that the world is indeed in disarray. There is no escaping that reality; we wouldn’t need redemption otherwise. But Advent also tells us the rest of the story: God sees that disarray—and has willingly entered it, sent his Son to walk with us through it. To make us children of the light. Don’t forget, I am with you always.

Our world is broken; we are broken. We are longing for health. We are longing for justice. We are longing for wholeness. God knows. And this Advent, as every Advent, he walks beside us through our brokenness, and allows a ray of sunlight to dazzle us as he reveals exactly what we’ve been longing for: nothing less than the Savior of the world.

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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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Worshipping Amid Oppression

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Today’s First Reading about the oppressing city struck a chord in my heart. I sometimes feel like we are in a time of oppressing cities. During the lockdown essential businesses were allowed to stay open. Sadly this included liquor stores and abortion clinics but churches were shuttered. I fear for the religious freedom our forefathers fought the Revolutionary War to win. I am frustrated at the hypocrisy around me. Today’s reading and Gospel bring me comfort.

Zephaniah is clear in his prophecy regarding the wickedness of the nations. “Woe to her that is rebellious and defiled, the oppressing city! She listens to no voice, she accepts no correction. She does not trust in the Lord, she does not draw near to her God,” he writes. As I grow more in love with Jesus, I am more bothered by the wickedness in our world. I am more outraged at the people who are trying to squash my right to worship the God of the Universe. This doesn’t stem from a place of judgment or superiority as much as wishing others trusted the Lord and desired to draw near to God. Imagine what an amazing world it would be. I have seen firsthand the wonder and generosity of God. I want others to see that too.

But these attempts to restrict our rights to freedom of religion are aggravating. Zephaniah reminded me of something that has brought me much comfort this past year – when we die, every one of us, whether we believe in God or not, has to stand in front of him and give an account of our life. That means the people who kept abortion clinics open but closed churches have to explain that decision.

And I too will have to stand before God and explain myself. This fills me with fear because telling the One who created me and has loved me unconditionally how I hurt him is going to be rough. But it also fills me with comfort because, as we read in today’s Gospel, our God is a God of mercy who welcomes our repentance. How many times have we said “No” to what is right but then changed our mind and done it anyway or sought forgiveness for that “no.” The tax collectors and prostitutes initially said “No” but when John the Baptist and Jesus called for repentance, they answered that call. They asked for and received forgiveness. We can do that too and what a glorious Father we have in Heaven who offers this to us.

None of us know what is going to happen to anyone else. I, for one, am glad I’m not involved in the judgment of anyone’s soul. That is God’s role and I trust in his justice and mercy. What I do know is that prayer is important and that even if, heaven forbid, every religious freedom we have is eroded away, no one can take God from our hearts and souls. In the end, well, we already know that Jesus won the war for all mankind. Amen.

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Merridith Frediani’s perfect day includes prayer, writing, unrushed morning coffee, reading, tending to dahlias, and playing Sheepshead with her husband and three kids.  She loves finding God in the silly and ordinary.  She writes for Ascension Press, Catholic Mom, and her local Catholic Herald in Milwaukee. Her first book Draw Close to Jesus: A Woman’s Guide to Eucharistic Adoration is expected to be released summer 2021. You can reach her at merridith.frediani@gmail.com

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The Crèche and the Cross

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Just when we were getting settled into our new house and things were starting to settle down, another crisis. After so much work, so many hours, so much invested, and it all came crashing down in less than a week. What were we to do? Where were we to turn? Why was this all happening to us?

Sometimes I hear hard news about crosses that others have to bear. I begin reflecting on my own life and realize that I have very few “chronic” crosses so to speak. My family is healthy, we have food on the table and two cars that usually run well. Although one can always dream about additional wants, the truth is, I suffer very little.

So perhaps this past weekend, which I consider one of the hardest to date, was meant to be a lesson to me that life is never without its crosses. Whether they be temporary or endured for years on end, crosses are an inevitable part our earthly journey.

We may find ourselves acting like Jonah and trying to run away from them, but I propose we take a look at today’s saint. St. John of the Cross, a Carmelite priest, reformer, mystic, poet and theologian attempted to embody “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me”. (Mark 8:34b) Franciscanmedia.org states, “Uniquely and strongly John underlines the gospel paradox: The cross leads to resurrection, agony to ecstasy, darkness to light, abandonment to possession, denial to self to union with God. If you want to save your life, you must lose it.”

I have often wondered why we celebrate St. John of the Cross during Advent, when our minds are drawn to the cute Child in the manger and we try to prepare our hearts the best we can to receive him. Perhaps it is precisely because he is a reminder to us that every human, even the newborn God-man, will experience crosses, and Jesus’ is heavier than any of ours will ever be. Even during this joyful season, we cannot forget the fact that he was born to die for us.

So as we continue to hand our crosses over to God and try to bear them as best as we humanly can, let us pray together with the Psalmist:

“Your ways, O Lord, make known to me; teach me your paths, guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my savior. Remember that your compassion, O Lord, and your kindness are from of old. In your kindness remember me, because of your goodness, O Lord. Good and upright is the Lord; thus he shows sinners the way. He guides the humble to justice, he teaches the humble his way.”

Teach me your ways, O Lord, even if they lead me to the cross.

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Tami Urcia 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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The Coming of the Bridegroom

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Gaudate Sunday marks the halfway point of the Advent season. With the church and priest decked out in the color rose, the Church makes the shift from the second coming of Christ at the end of the time to His first coming in a stable in the little town of Bethlehem. We’ve spent the past two weeks preparing our hearts for the Last Judgment, when Christ will come and judge us according to the lives we have chosen to live. With Gaudate Sunday, we switch focus and begin to prepare our hearts to receive Jesus on Christmas morning.

Today’s reading comes from the beginning of the Gospel of John. Rather than providing us with one of the traditional nativity stories from Matthew or Luke, we hear about the beginning of Christ’s public life and ministry. This is why Christ came. He came to give sight to the blind, freedom to the captives, and joy to the downtrodden. Christ came to bring salvation to the world. And John came to make straight the path of the Lord.

John the Baptist was the voice crying out in the desert. He baptized with water, knowing that Jesus Christ would come baptizing with fire and the Spirit. As John himself said, he wasn’t even worthy to untie his sandal straps. And that’s quite the assertion. On a practical level, if someone was to take off their sandals, a servant would carry them. When John said that he was unworthy to untie Christ’s sandal straps, he was saying that he wasn’t even worthy to be his servant. Jesus is God, and John is not. Jesus is divine, and John is a fallen human being. John knew that he was unworthy. But that is not all there is to John’s statement about Christ’s sandal straps.

In Jewish tradition, the removal of a man’s sandals meant that he was unworthy or unwilling to become the new bridegroom of a widow. When John said that he was unworthy to untie Jesus’ sandals, he also meant that he was unworthy and unwilling to supplant Jesus Christ as the true Bridegroom (St. Gregory the Great). Israel had often been depicted as a bride, and often not a very faithful one. She had thrown herself into the sinful arms of the pagan nations, but then the true Bridegroom came to rescue her, and not just her, but the world. When Jesus came to earth, He came as the Bridegroom willing to give His life for His Bride.

The Church is His Bride. We are meant to be united with God, the lover of our souls. Christ came for us. He took on human flesh, took our sins upon Himself, becoming poor so that we might enjoy all the riches of heaven. This is what John proclaimed to all. The Bridegroom has come, and He wants to love us. We might be unworthy as the poor, sinful beings that we are, but Christ’s love makes us worthy. Christ’s love makes us lovable. And that is a great cause for joy!

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Shannon Whitmore currently lives in northwestern Virginia with her husband, Andrew, and their two children, John and Felicity. When she is not caring for her children, Shannon enjoys writing for her blog, Love in the Little Things, reading fiction, and freelance writing. She has experience serving in the areas of youth ministry, religious education, sacramental preparation, and marriage enrichment.

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Our Lady of Guadalupe

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“Mary, make me love your Son Jesus as the Principle behind all things, not with a fear that paralyzes and discourages, but with a love that knows no limits.  ~ Blessed Concepción Cabrera de Armida

Today is the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe who appeared to St. Juan Diego asking him to build a church in her honor in 1531. As a teacher, I’m blessed to teach a Spanish course that includes quite a bit of history. Since I teach at a public school, I teach the story of Our Lady of Guadalupe and St. Juan Diego from a historical point of view. I like to believe, however, that my conviction is somehow communicated through my teaching. The timing of the class works out perfectly and has aligned two years in a row with the feasts of St. Juan Diego and Our Lady of Guadalupe. We are currently learning about the establishment of New Spain (Mexico), the development of a new, syncretic culture, and the causes leading up to the Mexican Revolution. Last year, the day we learned about the importance of Our Lady in the evangelization of New Spain was December 12th and one of my students endearingly said, “Miss! Did you know that today is Our Lady’s birthday?!” It may not be a fully accurate understanding of the feast we celebrate today but it certainly made my heart happy to hear.

There are a few options for today’s readings. You might hear from the Prophet Zechariah of God’s promise to dwell among us and that “Many nations shall join themselves to the Lord on that day”. The appearance of Our Lady to St. Juan Diego in Mexico is a fulfillment of that promise. Her appearance caused the conversion of an estimated 9 million people to the Catholic faith in less than 10 years. St. Juan Diego shared his faith with the bishop of Mexico and, in turn, served as an example of faith to his own people.

It is possible that you will hear Luke’s account of the Visitation in which Elizabeth says, “And how does this happen to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” I would imagine that St. Juan Diego’s response to Mary’s apparition was the same if not more shocked. I try to put myself in his shoes and imagine myself on my way to Mass and having the great honor and privilege of being face-to-face with our Holy Mother. People, like Elizabeth and Juan Diego, who came in direct contact with Mary and recognized that she was carrying our Savior in her womb are examples of the humility and admiration with which we should approach our Blessed Mother.

In the same way that she changed the hearts of the people of Mexico in the 1500s, may we allow Our Lady to enter our hearts and cause continual conversion. May we follow the examples of Our Lady of Guadalupe and St. Juan Diego in their whole-hearted “yeses” to God and His will.

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Dakota currently lives in Denver, CO and teaches English Language Development and Spanish to high schoolers. 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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Light of Life

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It is dark as I leave home for 7:15am Mass. The sun will be setting as I leave work to go back home this evening.  Without the aid of my headlights it is hard for me to really see what is right in front of me let alone farther down the road. The darkness envelops everything. I need light to navigate my way on the physical road as well as in my emotional and spiritual life journey.

The readings today highlight this need of illumination. The First Reading tells us that God teaches us what is for (our) good. The Psalm tells us, “Those who follow you, Lord, will have the light of life.” Jesus tells us in the Gospel that, we called to you but you didn’t come. “We played the flute for you, but you didn’t dance… [we] came eating and drinking” and you called us names and scoffed at us.

“Every time we sin, we become less human,” said Fr. Dan Crosby, OFM Cap in a recent homily. When we elevate ourselves, make fun or take advantage of others, we are placing a veil or, when there are many veils, a curtain between us and God. That sin blocks and takes us away from the Light of Life.

#1691 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church states, “Never forget that you have been rescued from the power of darkness and brought into the light of the Kingdom of God.” When you stay in the light you will be able to see the kingdom and find peace or Shalom.

I pray you will experience a deep peace of the Kingdom of God during this Advent season while you wait and prepare for our Lord’s coming.

A Celtic Blessing:

Deep peace of the running wave to you

Deep peace of the flowing air to you

Deep peace of the quiet earth to you

Deep peace of the shining stars to you

Deep peace of the gentle night to you

Moon and stars pour their healing light on you

Deep peace of Christ the light of the world to you

Deep peace of Christ to you.

Amen.

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Beth Price 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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Listen and Heed His Help

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“Whoever has ears ought to hear.”

What aren’t we hearing, then? So often we miss the memo, miss the message – whether from the Lord or from others in our own life. Why? Maybe it’s from sheer inattentiveness, maybe it’s a product of our own stubbornness or maybe it’s an unwillingness to listen.

All of these present obstacles to living our Christian life, as the Lord never stops speaking to us. It is we who don’t pay attention. It is we who believe that we can live a good, holy, moral life all on our own, without any assistance. It is we who choose to stop listening to Him. Yet, despite all of our shortcomings, God never stops pursuing us!

The Lord is trying to tell us so much in this First Reading from Isaiah, if only we can open our ears and open our hearts.

Here, his message is simple. “I will help you.” Isaiah then paints a vivid picture to describe how the Lord helps, using a very interesting choice of words. Jacob is described as a worm and Israel as a maggot. Worms and maggots can’t do much on their own. Any usefulness is dependent upon the worm or maggot being acted upon by someone or something outside of itself. For example, birds will eat worms for food but the bird must first be hungry. The worm can’t do anything on its own to feed the bird.

There isn’t much to a worm or a maggot but that doesn’t stop the Lord. With His help, Israel can then become a “threshing sledge, sharp, new and double-edged.” With the Lord’s help, Israel can thresh the mountain, make the hills like chaff and winnow them away. From being as lowly as a worm to being powerful enough to act upon nature – that’s what the Lord’s help can do.

What help can He offer us, then? Almost anything that we can imagine, we can call upon the Lord for His help. Nothing is too big and nothing is too small for Him. In fact, God waits for his beloved sons and daughters to ask for His help, much like we would go to our own earthly fathers for a solution to our problems.

The Lord is ever ready to lend a hand to His people. May we not be too proud to extend our own hand to Him and accept what He offers.

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Erin Madden 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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Come To Me

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“Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.”

Today’s First Reading is very short—so short it could be easy to dismiss or overlook. This would be unfortunate because it has much to do with all of your problems going away. God is aware of everything. He’s God. While you and I know this, sometimes we don’t believe it. There are moments when God seems disconnected, like we’re a cake in the oven and he forgot to come back and check on us. There are moments or even years of our lives when we feel like we’re on an island and nothing is going right and there is no relief from our struggles.

Big or small, we all have burdens. It could be waking up one morning to find your car won’t start. For some people it’s learning that a loved one has cancer. Anything that steals our peace is a burden. I’m sure plenty of people were burdened by this 2020 election season. Because of original sin, burdens happen. It’s a part of being human.

Satan wants us to feel isolated and abandoned. He wants us to get swept away by our problems and consumed by despair and hopelessness. He wants us to blame God for our burdens.

But here’s the wonderful news: God allows our burdens as an opportunity to approach him. A burden is an invitation to Trust in Him. When God became man and experienced suffering, he took on the ultimate burden: the weight of our sins and the sins of all of humanity.

The Mercy of our God is not comprehendible. He loves us so much. God wants our burdens. When we stop fighting to do it ourselves, that’s when God takes over. This doesn’t mean our problems magically go away as soon as we enter a Church. It means that as we begin to deepen our relationship with Christ and truly approach him, the weight of our own crosses begins to seem insignificant. “Jesus, I trust in You.”

Trust in God’s love and mercy.
Realize each burden is an opportunity to deepen your Trust in Jesus.
Understand even the smallest struggle can be given to God.
Make a Morning Offering each day as a reminder to give God everything.
Pray for the Grace to submit to God’s Divine Will.

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Patrick produces YouTube content for young Catholics on Catholic Late Night and Overt TV. He loves using humor to share the Truth of the Catholic faith with anyone who will listen. He resides currently in Chattanooga, TN and is a parishioner at The Basilica of Sts. Peter and Paul. Patrick graduated from Franciscan University of Steubenville with a degree in Communication Arts and a Minor in Marketing.

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Eve Said No – Mary Said Yes

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Eve and Mary were similar in a lot of ways. They were both created without sin. They were both daughters of covenants, under which they pledged obedience. They were both visited by a supernatural being.

It is easy to look at Eve and think that original sin and the fall were all her fault. After all, she is the one who listened to the serpent and took the bite of the forbidden fruit. She is the one who convinced Adam to try it, too. Curse her womanly wiles. However, we fail to realize that nowhere in Scripture does it say that the serpent cornered Eve alone. We tend to think that he lured her away somehow to get her away from Adam’s protection in order to tempt her. But if we look at the Genesis account, it actually reads, “She took some of its fruit and ate it; and she also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it.”

Therefore, we see that the serpent truly was the most cunning of all the creatures. He targeted Eve, and Adam was right there. Yet he did nothing to dissuade her or protect her vulnerability.

Which brings us to Mary, a lowly handmaiden from small-town Nazareth. She did nothing to draw attention to herself, and yet now she alone is revered as Queen of Heaven and Earth.

Eve said no to God’s plan, but Mary said yes. She said yes to the disgrace that would ensue as news of an unmarried, pregnant teen got out. She said yes to giving up her body as a vessel for the Son of God. She said yes to raising that boy, and then letting Him leave to fulfill His earthly mission. She said yes to what she could not yet know – that she would one day have to watch her baby boy die a horrendous death on a Cross in front of mockers and evildoers.

If you have never gotten the chance, I HIGHLY recommend that you read Pope St. John Paul II’s Letter to Women. It is a reflection on womanhood and the feminine genius that is unparalleled.

“The Church sees in Mary the highest expression of the “feminine genius” and she finds in her a source of constant inspiration. Mary called herself the “handmaid of the Lord” (Lk 1:38). Through obedience to the Word of God she accepted her lofty yet not easy vocation as wife and mother in the family of Nazareth. Putting herself at God’s service, she also put herself at the service of others: a service of love. Precisely through this service Mary was able to experience in her life a mysterious, but authentic “reign”. It is not by chance that she is invoked as “Queen of heaven and earth”. The entire community of believers thus invokes her; many nations and peoples call upon her as their “Queen”. For her, “to reign” is to serve! Her service is “to reign”!

Why did Satan target the woman in the Garden? Because he knows that women are special. He knows that women are powerful. We alone have the ability to carry and sustain life in our own bodies. But he did not know that one day a woman would change the course of history.

“Necessary emphasis should be placed on the ‘genius of women’, not only by considering great and famous women of the past or present, but also those ordinary women who reveal the gift of their womanhood by placing themselves at the service of others in their everyday lives. For in giving themselves to others each day women fulfill their deepest vocation. Perhaps more than men, women acknowledge the person, because they see persons with their hearts. They see them independently of various ideological or political systems. They see others in their greatness and limitations; they try to go out to them and help them. In this way the basic plan of the Creator takes flesh in the history of humanity and there is constantly revealed, in the variety of vocations, that beauty – not merely physical, but above all spiritual – which God bestowed from the very beginning on all, and in a particular way on women.” (JP II, Letter to Women).

That, my friends, is feminism at its truest and purest self.

That is what we celebrate today. That our God inserted Himself into our human history by taking on the lowliness of our flesh and bones, for our sake. That He chose a woman as His vessel. That He pre-redeemed her from the moment of her conception in Anne’s womb, by grace of His sacrifice on Calvary. That He ordained her as the ultimate example of femininity, beauty, purity, grace, and surrender.

This is why we elevate Mary to the highest place of all the Saints: not because of anything she did on her own, but because the level of intimacy that she had with our God was so pure that it, by default, made her immaculate.

So, in conclusion, Mary and Eve are very similar. But they also differ at a fundamental level.

Eve’s name means the “mother of all living”, because from her descended the human race. At the foot of the Cross, Mary became the “mother of all who truly live” when Jesus gave His mother to the Church.

Eve’s disobedience resulted in the fall into sin of the entire human race. The result was death – physically and spiritually. Mary’s obedience to God resulted in Christ’s redemption of the entire human race. The result was eternal life.

Thus, the Church Fathers confidently say, “The knot of Eve’s disobedience was untied by Mary’s obedience: what the virgin Eve bound through her disbelief, Mary loosened by her faith. Death through Eve, life through Mary.”

Ultimately, Eve said no. But Mary said yes.

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Sarah Rose hails from Long Island and graduated from Franciscan University in 2016 with a Bachelor’s in Theology & Catechetics. She is happily married to her college sweetheart John Paul. They welcomed their first child, Judah Zion, in 2019. She is passionate about her big V-vocation: motherhood, and her little v-vocation: bringing people to encounter Christ through the true, the good, and the beautiful. She loves fictional novels, true crime podcasts/documentaries, the saints (especially Blessed Chiara Luce Badano), & sharing conversation over a good cup of coffee. She is currently the Coordinator of Young Adult Ministry at St. Cecilia Church in Oakley, Cincinnati. You can find out more about her ministry here: https://eastsidefaith.org/young-adult OR at https://www.facebook.com/stceciliayam.

Feature Image Credit: Mary and Eve by Sr. Grace Remington, OCSO, https://illustratedprayer.com/2017/12/05/mary-comforts-eve/. Used with Permission.

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The Way of the Redeemed

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Both readings today could provoke us to ask ourselves the following questions:

In what ways am I blind?

In what situations am I deaf?

How am I lame?

In what way is my tongue mute?

Isaiah proclaims:

Then will the eyes of the blind be opened,
the ears of the deaf be cleared;
Then will the lame leap like a stag,
then the tongue of the mute will sing (Isaiah 35:5-6).

Then. When?

The Gospel announces that Jesus Christ is the One who gives us sight, who opens our ears, who gives us the strength to stand and walk, who releases our tongue so we can proclaim.

If we reflect on the Gospel story, Jesus did indeed heal the paralyzed man. Not a word is spoken by this person or his friends. In this passage, they are mute. The paralyzed man is lame. As Jesus speaks to the paralyzed man, it is clear that he can hear and that he can see something so mysterious and beyond his expectations that at the word of Jesus, he stands up immediately, picks up his mat as he is instructed, and goes home as he had been ordered. The tongues of all those present, well almost all, were freed as they began to praise God, “We have seen incredible things today.”

One group of people in the room that day, a number of scribes and Pharisees, questioned what Jesus was doing. He did not fit into their perception of a man from God, a rabbi faithful to the Law. They were already blinded, unable to hear words that didn’t match the ideas of the echo-chamber of their personal group. They were lame, unable to leap at the voice of God in their midst, and their tongue was not loosed with awe and praise. They remained mute, blind, and deaf at the end of the passage, while everyone else acclaimed Jesus.

So we truly might ask ourselves the very crucial questions:

In what ways am I blind?

In what situations am I deaf?

How am I lame?

In what way is my tongue mute?

What echo-chambers do I stay in so that I only willingly listen to the ideas that are already in my mind and heart?

Where am I missing the glorious work of God at work all around me so that I remain mute, paralyzed, and blind instead of praising God and obeying his commands?

What causes me to remain endlessly wrapped in this world’s concerns that I cannot hear the voice of God breaking in on a different topic as he did for the paralyzed man: “As for you, your sins are forgiven”? For sure he was hoping to hear the words, You are cured!

Friends, at the end of today, at the end of Advent, we don’t want to be among the ones who remain mute, blind, deaf, lame.

Advent reminds us of the promise that is also ours:

Streams will burst forth in the desert,
and rivers in the steppe.
The burning sands will become pools,
and the thirsty ground, springs of water….

A highway will be there,
called the holy way.…

It is for those with a journey to make,
and on it the redeemed will walk.
Those whom the LORD has ransomed will return
and enter Zion singing,
crowned with everlasting joy (Isaiah 35:6-7, 8, 9-10).

Willingly, freely, joyfully, make that journey, walk on the way of the redeemed, that you may be crowned with everlasting joy.

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Sr. Kathryn J. HermesKathryn James Hermes, FSP, is the author of the newly released title: Reclaim Regret: How God Heals Life’s Disappointments, by Pauline Books and Media. An author and spiritual mentor, she offers spiritual accompaniment for the contemporary Christian’s journey towards spiritual growth and inner healing. She is the director of My Sisters, where people can find spiritual accompaniment from the Daughters of St. Paul on their journey. Website: www.touchingthesunrise.com Public Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/srkathrynhermes/ For monthly spiritual journaling guides, weekly podcasts and over 50 conferences and retreat programs join my Patreon community: https://www.patreon.com/srkathryn.

Feature Image Credit: Milagre da “cura do paralítico em Cafarnaum” (Mateus 9:1-8;Marcos 2:1-12; Lucas 5:17-26). © José Luiz Bernardes Ribeiro / CC BY-SA 3.0 

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The Three Comings

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On this Second Sunday of Advent, the Gospel presents to us the impassioned presence of St. John the Baptist – in the desert alone, dressed in camel’s hair, eating insects and wild honey – proclaiming the coming of the Lord. What John the Baptist lived, we are called to live; his entire life was an expectation and preparation for the coming of the Christ, and our lives are to be oriented toward Christ’s coming as well.

St. John’s certainty that his role was to “prepare the way of the Lord,” to be the messenger crying out to others that there is preparation to be done, marked his whole life. He knew God’s will for him and embraced it humbly and energetically, never becoming confused by his own ideas or desires, but giving himself over completely to his God-given task.

But he also did this with understanding and knowledge, which were certainly guided by the Holy Spirit. John was not some wild zealot living primitively in the desert without any refined comprehension of the whole picture. Indeed, the locus of his ministry was part of the message! Just as at the time of the Exodus the Israelites wandered 40 years in the desert and then crossed the Jordan into the Promised Land, so John situated himself in the desert and invited the people to a new Exodus, bringing them through baptism in the same river Jordan into a new freedom. The first time, the Promised Land was Canaan, flowing with milk and honey; this time, the Promised Land would be the Messiah, who would baptize them with the Holy Spirit. The first Exodus freed them from slavery in Egypt; this time, they were called to repentance, to be freed from slavery to sin.

Christ’s life will likewise trace the path of ancient Israel, beginning with time in the desert. And we are called during Advent to stir up the thirst and longing of a desert wanderer in search of the Promised Land, the Kingdom of the Messiah, in the certain knowledge that we cannot be free except for His coming. This “coming” is threefold, and we must be ever open to all three: 1) His coming as an infant in Bethlehem; 2) His coming to each of us, every day; 3) His triumphant coming at the end of time.

Whether you use an Advent wreath, hymns, special prayers (like the St Andrew Christmas Novena), or particular practices to keep focused on the “reason for the season”, try each day to consider how you have opened yourself to each of the “3 comings” of Christ in your home and in your heart. You might spend just one minute at the end of the day considering each of these; by Christmas, your heart will be wide and welcoming for the coming of the Savior!

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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/.

Feature Image Credit: Thomas Vogel, https://unsplash.com/photos/HmNWXPzRx1M