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If Today You Hear His Voice, Harden Not Your Hearts

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The readings today are clear. We must pay attention to the words of our Lord God. We must listen to Jesus, His Son.  

Today is also the memorial of St. Francis of Assisi. As a young man, Francis enjoyed the pleasures of this world and did not hear the voice of God. He did not see God reflected in the image of his fellow man. Francis was about 19 when he went to war, was captured and imprisoned for a year. He was ill when released from prison and bedridden for another year. While convalescing, he read about the lives of the saints. Francis shares several characteristics with many of the saints. 

After his recovery, Francis had many experiences in which he heard God’s voice. He saw God in a leper, and instead of passing, got off his horse and embraced the man with leprosy. He heard the voice of God while praying in a broken-down church, San Damiano. While before the crucifix, Francis heard God telling him, “Rebuild my church.” He went on to do so both literally and figuratively.

I believe a similar message is being spoken to us, right now, in our time. I, too, have been deaf and blind to His voice and presence. I have hardened my heart to the pain and suffering in my personal family as well as in my brothers and sisters around the world bonded through our shared humanity. I have a deep appreciation for creation, yet am I actively working to live in harmony with all other living beings and take care of our shared planetary home?

Please pray with me so that we too, can hear His voice and soften our hearts.

O most High, almighty, good Lord God, to you belong praise, glory, honor, and all blessing!

Praised be my Lord God with all creatures; and especially our brother the sun, which brings us the day, and the light; fair is he, and shining with a very great splendor: O Lord, he signifies you to us!

Praised be my Lord for our sister the moon, and for the stars, which God has set clear and lovely in heaven.

Praised be my Lord for our brother the wind, and for air and cloud, calms and all weather, by which you uphold in life all creatures.

Praised be my Lord for our sister water, which is very serviceable to us, and humble, and precious, and clean.

Praised be my Lord for brother fire, through which you give us light in the darkness: and he is bright, and pleasant, and very mighty,
and strong.

Praised be my Lord for our mother the Earth, which sustains us and keeps us, and yields diverse fruits, and flowers of many colors, and grass.

Praised be my Lord for all those who pardon one another for God’s love’s sake, and who endure weakness and tribulation; blessed are they who peaceably shall endure, for you, O most High, shall give them a crown!

Praised be my Lord for our sister, the death of the body, from which no one escapes. Woe to him who dies in mortal sin! Blessed are they who are found walking by your most holy will, for the second death shall have no power to do them harm.

Praise you, and bless you the Lord, and give thanks to God, and serve God with great humility.

(St. Francis, 1182-1226)

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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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Choosing Joy

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This morning, my dad called me as I drove into work, and I immediately knew why he was calling. My great uncle, who had been like a grandfather to me, had passed away. As I hung up, I had to pull over and cry. Between the stressful weeks at work and the end of my relationship the night before, it was just too much. 

I felt so lost, so broken, and just so sad. I let my boss know I would be coming into the office late and went straight to the Cathedral. 

Kneeling in front of Mary, I asked for peace and her unwavering trust in God’s plan. Mother Mary heard my cries, and I immediately remembered something a priest said as he was greeted by his parish staff. They asked him how he was doing, and he responded with, “Thanks be to God that I’m still alive. Although, if I were to die, what a blessing that would be!”

The whole parish staff sat in the room and gasped in disbelief, shock, and concern. They joked about the fact that he’s the one who performs the funerals and that everything would be thrown into chaos. The priest then reminded us all that death is the passage that gives way to eternal communion with God. He reminded us that our life spent on earth is only to get to heaven, so what a blessing it would be to be called home by God.

Sometimes we forget that while our life is important, it is also temporary. We forget that we are only here to get there. We forget that through God, even in death, there is peace and joy. 

Today’s first reading and the responsorial psalm are both about joy. The joy of Ezra reading the bible to the people was truly a celebration, complete with reading from the bible for the length of the 7-day feast. The responsorial psalm reminds us that God’s commandments give joy to the heart. 

In life and in death, we can feel the joys of God’s presence, or we can feel the sorrow in believing that we are alone. 

I’ve said before that while a situation may be out of our control, our joy is a choice we can always make. I wrote it for you just as much as I wrote it for myself. Many times, I lose my joy for a day, a week, a month. I feel the sadness and the heaviness of my cross weigh down on me and choose to selfishly and naively think that I carry the burden by myself. 

My brothers and sisters, we are always offered joy, and we are not alone.

As you read this, I’m not sure if you are living in joy or feel alone, but today I ask that you pray for all those suffering:

Deliver us, thus, Oh God, from the time of trial and temptation. 

But when this time arrives for us, Our Father, show us that we are not alone. You are the Father. Show us that Christ has already taken upon himself the weight of that cross too. Show us that Jesus calls us to carry it with him, abandoning ourselves trustfully to your Fatherly love. 

Thank you.

Prayer from Pope Francis’ address to the General Audience on May 1, 2019

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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.

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Children and Guardian Angels

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Each night as I tuck my boys into bed, I pray with them. We tell Jesus and Mother Mary how much we love them and pray for all of our family members. They each have a crucifix in their room to remind them of God’s presence, and I plant kisses on their cheeks and the Sign of the Cross on their foreheads to remind them of mine. Just before I close their door, we recite the Guardian Angel prayer and they drift off to sleep knowing of their protection.

I remember my Dad talking to us about our Guardian Angels as a child. He would tell us that we each had one and their job was to protect us and watch over us. He even called his own by name and claimed he was the patron of parking spots. When we went to an event where parking space was limited, and we had been driving around for a few minutes with no luck, he would ask his guardian angel for help, and he would quickly find a spot…every time. I began to realize that we could have more than just a superficial realization of our guardian angel’s existence in our lives; we could form a relationship with them.

Our guardian angels remind us of our frailty, they remind us of our humanness, of our dependence on an Almighty God and His heavenly helpers. Any day of the week, at any moment we could find ourselves at death’s door, yet God sends us His angels to keep us safe until our time comes.

Perhaps that is why today’s Gospel speaks of the angels in the context of children.

“Amen, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the Kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the Kingdom of heaven. And whoever receives one child such as this in my name receives me. See that you do not despise one of these little ones, for I say to you that their angels in heaven always look upon the face of my heavenly Father.” (Mt 18)

Perhaps you have your own children to tuck into bed each night, perhaps you have grandchildren or nieces and nephews you enjoy watching grow up, but whether you do or don’t, don’t ever forget your own childlikeness. For you are and always will be a child of your heavenly Father. You are a child, and your guardian angel, who watches over you, is gazing on the heavenly Father’s face. May that thought bring you peace and joy this day.

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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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A Time and a Place

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Fall is one of my favorite seasons, not only because of the pumpkin spice and everything nice but also because of the change that occurs in nature. We have begun to enter the time where jackets come out, the nights get colder and darker, families come together during the many different holidays approaching, and people spend far too much on their delicious pumpkin spice lattes. Now is the time for a change in the weather. There is a time and a place for everything and now is the time for fall.

In today’s Gospel, we encounter Jesus traveling through various villages and trying to find a place to stay. One cannot help but think back to his birth when they also couldn’t find anyone to welcome them in. This wasn’t new to Jesus, and perhaps a vengeful king would have destroyed the town without a thought. But Jesus is no normal King. While he is just, he is also merciful, and he shows this extraordinary mercy on this little town that was not willing to welcome him.

Now think back again to fall, there is a time and a place for everything. At this moment in the Gospel, Jesus decided this was predominantly a time for mercy, and justice could take a back seat. I think Jesus was always doing this during his ministry. He casts this perfect balance between compassion and justice, showing us that he will be just, but his heart beats with mercy.

I think we can put ourselves in the place of this little town. How often does Jesus approach us, and we turn him away? How often do others approach us for mercy, and we claim that we are not our brother’s keeper? And yet, despite our faults and failings, Jesus does not give up on us. He gives us a merciful chance, just like he did in the Gospel today.

I think it’s easy to look at that town and think, “What was their problem? How could they reject Jesus.” But then we are so quick to turn Jesus away for friends, cultural norms, or sin. I am reminded today of the immense mercy that Jesus has poured out on me and my life, and I can’t help but want to treat others with the same mercy. I pray for this grace and hope we all can open our hearts to the beautiful mercy of God. From all of us here at Diocesan, God Bless!

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Tommy Shultz is a Solutions Evangelist for Diocesan. In that role, he is committed to coaching parishes and dioceses on authentic and effective Catholic communication. Tommy has a heart and a flair for inspiring people to live their faith every day. He has worked in various youth ministry, adult ministry, and diocesan roles. He has been a featured speaker at retreats and events across the country. His mission and drive have been especially inspired by St. John Paul II’s teachings. Tommy is blessed to be able to learn from the numerous parishes he visits and pass that experience on in his presentations. Contact him at tshultz@diocesan.com.

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Who Belongs?

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Every time I catch myself doing or saying or even thinking something unkind, and every time I chastise myself for it, I’m generally able to look to Scripture and find that while my reaction was indeed not top-notch, it was still pretty normal. Look at the disciples! They had the gift of the ongoing presence of Jesus, physically, every day, and still, they consistently exhibited the most human—and negative—of traits.

Today’s reading is no exception. Here Jesus is preaching humility while at the same time the disciples are arguing—essentially—over which one of them is the greatest. Seriously? I find this scene so difficult to imagine! These men who left lives, families, income, everything behind to follow Jesus in humility and simplicity, are now sitting around bragging and arguing. What’s wrong with this picture?

An argument arose among the disciples about which of them was the greatest. Jesus realized the intention of their hearts and took a child and placed it by his side and said to them, “Whoever receives this child in my name receives me, and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me. For the one who is least among all of you is the one who is the greatest.” 

Jesus manages not to lose his temper with his slow-witted band. Don’t you see, he is saying, this isn’t the way to go. It’s about making yourself small, not big. It’s about modesty, not boasting. It’s about humility, not grandiosity. This child is closer to the Kingdom than you are.

And then John, perhaps in a desperate attempt to change the subject and deflect Jesus’ criticism, says, “Oh, and by the way, we did do something good. We saw this guy who isn’t one of us, he’s not part of the inner circle, and there he was, casting out demons in your name! We put a stop to that pretty quickly!” He and the other disciples were probably exchanging congratulatory glances with each other, maybe even a first-century high-five or two. Okay, so maybe they shouldn’t have done that “who’s the greatest” contest, but for sure Jesus is going to approve of this!

And then Jesus says something truly extraordinary.

Then John said in reply, “Master, we saw someone casting out demons in your name and we tried to prevent him because he does not follow in our company.” Jesus said to him, “Do not prevent him, for whoever is not against you is for you.”

I’ve belonged to exclusive clubs and even cliques before. You probably have, too. We bond with people with whom we have things in common, and the way we know we belong is because we exclude other people. And because others are excluded, there’s a certain excitement about belonging; we’re special because we belong, and we’re special because others don’t belong. It’s all pretty circular. I remember in particular in primary school I was part of a singularly idiotic group with a secret password; if you didn’t have the password, then you weren’t One Of Us. 

As adults, we’ve extended that sense of who belongs—and even more importantly, who doesn’t—into every facet of our lives, and we do it, at least in part, to underline that same sense of specialness. Smart people join Mensa. College graduates form alumni associations. People descended from various ethnic groups drink at exclusive clubs. Invitation-only parties help us rank ourselves and others. And of course it goes even deeper: we distrust those people who aren’t part of our groups. We label them as “different,” as “other,” as not part of “the norm.” And the consequences of this need to feel special is that we’re right back to arguing who’s the greatest.

Jesus is consistently about inclusion rather than exclusion, about sharing rather than denying, about acceptance rather than rejection. Here he takes it a step further: if someone has not actually pronounced themselves as your enemy, then you have no reason to reject them. 

Think about that for a moment. I can only see someone as “The Other” if they have, essentially, threatened me harm. The rest of the world? It’s just like me. Dresses differently, speaks differently, thinks differently—but is just like me.

For Jesus, there is no “Other.” There is only a whole vast world of people who do not yet have the gift of the knowledge of the Kingdom of God. We have that privilege. It’s not something to brag about, any more than we can brag about where we were born, or into what societal group. No one is greatest by virtue of the accident of their birth. If we are Catholic, we would do well to feel grateful for the way the world arranged for that to happen, not be disdainful of those not so fortunate.

As we look forward to this fall and to the liturgical season of Advent, we might do well to remember that Christ was born a helpless baby, to poor parents who immediately became refugees, that he never went to college, never owned a house, and that he spent most of his time with people we would most decidedly think of as “the Other.”

Today’s Scripture reminds us that we’re not alone when we mess up; but it also shows quite graphically what that messing up looks like. The picture here of the disciples is anything but flattering. How many times in the past week would we have numbered among them? How many times would Jesus have had to remind us of God’s priorities?

Christianity isn’t a club. We shouldn’t have hidden passwords or secret handshakes. We shouldn’t judge ourselves better than anyone else. Jesus calls us to welcome the whole world into our hearts.

Today is a good time to start.

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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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Who Do You Say I Am?

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Opinion (noun) a view or judgment formed about something, not necessarily based on fact or knowledge

We form opinions all the time. What (or who) we like, what we don’t like, what we want to eat and what makes us turn up our nose. We have viewpoints on politics, education, society, gardening, and religion. There is no end to the topics about which we form judgments, not necessarily based on fact or knowledge.

What does that mean for us as Christians? Our God and Creator is the Supreme Being. He is primary to all else. He is the source of all that is good, true, and beautiful. His is the source of wisdom and true knowledge.

When Jesus asked the disciples, “Who do the crowds say I am?” He was asking for the prevailing opinion, not necessarily based on fact. The Jews were looking for a political king. Someone to shake up the social order and help the Jews rise in socio-political standing. The opinions of the crowd, “John the Baptist,” “Elijah,” or an “ancient prophet” all were affected by what they thought would happen when the promised Savior arrived. They were looking for their time to be on top, to be the ones with authority.

The fact is Jesus did shake up the social order, but not in the way they were expecting. “Jesus summoned them and said to them, ‘You know that those who are recognized as rulers over the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones make their authority over them felt. But it shall not be so among you. Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all. For the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.’” (Mark 10:42-45)

When Jesus turns the question and asks the disciples, “But who do you say that I am?” He isn’t asking for their opinion. He is looking to see if they have been listening, have they truly opened up their hearts and their minds to his teachings? Is their answer grounded in the wisdom of the Holy Spirit? Every action Jesus takes speaks louder than the most eloquent of us. From calling fisherman to be leaders of His new Church to eating with tax collectors and women on the fringes of society, Jesus acts in wisdom born of the true knowledge of who people are and who he is.

Isn’t that our goal? When we acknowledge who Jesus is, and we embrace who we are in his sight, then we no longer have need of voicing opinions which may not have any basis in fact. We don’t need to try to control situations or turn things to our advantage. We stand straighter in the knowledge of the Master whom we imitate. We no longer strive for authority or to lord our thinking over others; we desire to imitate Jesus, who came to serve.

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Sheryl delights in being the number 1 cheerleader and supporter for her husband, Tom who is a candidate for the Permanent Diaconate in the Diocese of Kalamazoo. They are so grateful for the opportunity to grow together in this process whether it is studying for classes, deepening their prayer life or discovering new ways to serve together. Sheryl’s day job is serving her community as the principal for St. Therese Catholic School in Wayland, Michigan. Since every time she thinks she gets life all figured out, she realizes just how far she has to go, St. Rita of Cascia is her go-to Saint for intercession and help. Home includes Brea, a Bernese Mountain dog and Carlyn, a very, very goofy Golden Retriever.

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Searching for Jesus

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I love a good detective story. I love courtroom drama, especially those with numerous twists and turns in the plotline, and I especially love surprise endings. I’m usually pretty good at guessing outcomes, but I relish the surprise when the author stumps me with an end I didn’t see coming.

It seems, in today’s Gospel, that Herod was doing a little “detecting” himself. “’ Who then is this about whom I hear such things?’ And he kept trying to see him.” Herod was stumped, asking everyone who this man is and hearing replies like “John has been raised from the dead,” or “Elijah has appeared.”, or “One of the ancient prophets has arisen.”
Herod knew none of that could be true. Elijah and the prophets were long gone, and Herod himself beheaded John, so who is this man who performs miracles and speaks the words that are catching people’s attention? He had a mystery on his hands.

Each day we do the same thing. We seek the one about whom we hear such things. Sometimes I think the Gospels, especially the words of Jesus, present us this mystery to unravel. What do these words mean? How do these words impact my life? Why must I – should I – listen? Can it make a difference? Like Herod, so many questions. But unlike Herod, we have answers.

In the wisdom of the Church to incorporate the Scriptures into our worship at Mass (the three- year Sunday cycle and the two- year daily cycle cover almost all of Scripture!), we have the opportunity to have Jesus’ words before us always. Part of the excellent mystery of it all is that Jesus’ words will change in meaning for each of us as we grow older and experience his teachings in light of our growing maturity and experience and, hopefully, our increasing wisdom. We listen; we see the stories come alive in our mind’s eye; we ponder; we learn and occasionally, the find a surprise ending we didn’t see coming — a change in the spiritual outlook on our lives and a clear direction as to where we should go. Whether we follow that direction every time or not will become part of the mystery. But the author of these words will continually spark our interest in searching for our ending.

Herod was looking for “this man” for all the wrong reasons. He had guilt to assuage for his deeds but wasn’t looking for forgiveness. Herod was looking to rid the world of the one who could accuse him and hold him accountable for those despicable deeds. The sad thing about Herod’s search is that, in light of his miserable life, he could not recognize nor appreciate the surprise ending – our Lords resurrection and guarantee of eternal life. Herod was much too grounded in the things of this earth.

“I am the way, and the truth and the life says the Lord.” Here’s the mystery; here is the truth sought in the mystery; the path to solving the mystery and the eternal life gained once the story comes to an end.

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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The Virtue of Faith

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“Faith is the theological virtue by which we believe in God and believe all that he has said and revealed to us, and that Holy Church proposes for our belief, because he is truth itself. By faith man freely commits his entire self to God. For this reason the believer seeks to know and do God’s will. The righteous shall live by faith. Living faith works through charity.” -Catechism of the Catholic Church 1814

Today’s Gospel is beautiful in its simplicity, as is the theological virtue of faith. I think we can get too inside our own heads sometimes when it comes to God and religion. We build up walls and laws and everything else in between in order to make the faith absurdly complicated and seemingly impossible to live.

In reality, it is simple. Have faith in God and everything He has revealed. When He says He is present in the Eucharist, we believe. When He says He can forgive our sins and make us whole, we believe. When He says He has the power to save us from our wretchedness, we believe.

“But he could never mean those things about me, especially knowing what I have done.” “It seems impossible that Jesus would be humble enough to come in the form of bread and wine to us; maybe it’s just a metaphor.” “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son so that those who believe in Him, everyone except me, will have eternal life.”

And there we are in our heads again. You notice that whenever we try to doubt what God has revealed to us, we put ourselves in place of God. We let him know that He must have made a mistake and we, in our ultimate power and authority, are here to help fix what is broken. And Jesus steps in through today’s Gospel and says stop.

You can almost hear Him saying, “Don’t overcomplicate this. When I say I will give you power, I mean it. When I say I will be with you, I mean it. When I say I love you, I mean it.”

Do we believe it? These are hard truths to grasp for purely human minds, which is why we have to ask for faith. Even the Church is aware that some of her teachings are difficult to understand. In adoration, we often sing, “Faith will tell us Christ is present when our human senses fail.” Our minds are finite, and it can be hard to grasp the infinite unless the infinite shares with us the power to do so. That’s the beauty of faith. We can see as God sees, walk as God walks, love as God loves.

A good priest friend of mine has this gift. When there is a massive problem in his life, he prays and knows that God will answer. He has this incredible faith that Jesus is still the same person who walked on the earth 2,000 years ago, and He always cares. His power has not lessened due to time and age.

I know I need to work on this virtue in my life. I rely on my power and knowledge all too often. Why do we give ourselves such stress? Let’s keep it simple and have faith in God. From all of us here at Diocesan, God Bless!

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Tommy Shultz is a Solutions Evangelist for Diocesan. In that role, he is committed to coaching parishes and dioceses on authentic and effective Catholic communication. Tommy has a heart and a flair for inspiring people to live their faith every day. He has worked in various youth ministry, adult ministry, and diocesan roles. He has been a featured speaker at retreats and events across the country. His mission and drive have been especially inspired by St. John Paul II’s teachings. Tommy is blessed to be able to learn from the numerous parishes he visits and pass that experience on in his presentations. Contact him at tshultz@diocesan.com.

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Life’s Humbling Actions

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I recently saw on my Facebook wall a quote which read: “The older you get, the quieter you become. Life humbles you so deeply as you age. You realize how much nonsense you’ve wasted time on.”

Until we come to terms that life is a gradual, difficult, gloriously transformative undoing of everything we have built up for ourselves and of ourselves, it will continue to perplex and, in some cases, embitter us.

Just the other day I sat beside a priest friend, sharing my spiritual journey, my self-discoveries that were not that pretty. Of course, I had explanations ready at hand. I thought they added perspective. My friend said, “Those are just excuses. Everything you’re saying is just ego.”

Just ego…. The nonsense I’ve wasted time on.

We get caught up in our younger years in wildly exciting things, dreams for what we could do or be, determination to make improvements, change things, build things….

But life tends to lead us out of these sunshine beginnings into the stormy years of our undoing. Then back into the sunshine, then onward to shadow….

The elders of the Jews who were tasked with rebuilding the house of God in Jerusalem had been sent there from their captivity in exile in Babylon. The glories of the former Temple, all that Jerusalem had been for the Chosen People since King David, had been lost. They were beginning again, and anyone who has begun again to rebuild from the ashes knows that it is hard and discouraging work. To rebuild is to face the unknown, to construct in faith, to hope in God, to place ourselves under his mercy, to walk blindly along the paths marked out for us…at his bidding, for his glory, according to his plan.

In the Gospel, we can imagine Mary standing on the outside of the crowd that surrounded the house where her Son was preaching. With his words, “My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and act on it,” Mary’s heart had to have skipped a beat. The relationship of mother-son that she had known since Jesus’ Bethlehem-birth had now to give way to something larger that she didn’t yet understand. These words, certainly a confirmation of her holiness, defined the moment when she realized definitively that her motherhood was not her own, that it never was meant to be her private joy. All that she had been in her mysterious and magnificent YES to the Father was now public “property,” so to speak, for everyone else’s benefit. She had to move over to make room for us. I often think of what Mary must have been thinking and feeling as she turned and walked home that evening….

In our lives, we are led into progressively deeper poverty in which all we once knew as normal becomes shrouded in a future of uncertainty. We walk forward lighter, simpler, more quiet and humble, perhaps less significant. If this is happening to you rejoice. You are being led on the path of holiness which can only culminate in glory.

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Kathryn 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.

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A Call to Action

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As you sit here and read this post, I am preparing a night of Eucharistic adoration for my high school youth ministry, the first of many nights to come for this group.

You see, before I started at my new parish, I had been asked, “What is your favorite youth ministry moment?” The answer was easy: Eucharistic adoration. Any time my previous group came together in adoration, the Lord worked in many beautiful and mysterious ways among the teens. I saw such openness and receptivity to the Lord that was moving and inspirational to watch. So, naturally, I wanted to plan for times of Eucharistic adoration with my new parish and my new youth group.

Then a few different things happened. First, the Pew Research study that came out. This study revealed that only 31 percent of U.S. Catholics believe in the Real Presence of the Eucharist, meaning that 69 percent believe that the bread and wine are only symbols for the Body and Blood of Christ, including a majority of each age group.

My heart fell when I heard this news. So many of my brothers and sisters in Christ don’t believe that the Eucharist is the true Body and Blood of Christ.

Being a catechist, I feel responsible for this heart-breaking news and wonder where I might have gone wrong. But I also feel responsible to do whatever I can to rewrite the narrative of this study.

Secondly, I have felt called to focus the high school youth group this year on a personal encounter with Christ. What could be more personal than a face-to-face encounter with our Lord in the Eucharist? Hence the desire for adoration nights.

If you’ve made it this far, you’re probably wondering what this all has to do with today’s readings.

The first reading from the Book of Ezra invites those who are a part of God’s people to go up to his house to be with Him. Meanwhile, the responsorial psalm repeats that “The Lord has done marvels for us.”

If we want to be with our Lord, to go to Him in His Church, where He is in the Blessed Sacrament in the tabernacle, let us go to Him in adoration. The Lord has done marvels for us, and so we should adore Him. The doors are always open to you.

If you aren’t sure where you are in your belief about the Eucharist, go to Him in adoration. Sit before Him in His presence and talk to Him about your belief (or your unbelief) and let Him speak into your heart.

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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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Finding True Joy

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Today’s Gospel reading poses a very specific question, “Are you honest or dishonest?” We’re informed by Scripture that one who is trustworthy in small matters is also trustworthy in great ones, but one who is dishonest in small matters is also dishonest in great ones.

The Scripture refers to the topic of wealth and the belongings of others. How do we, as Catholics, handle money? Are we trustworthy or dishonest with our own money or the money of others? In all topics, I hope, we are striving to be honest and true in our words and actions.

This Gospel ends with the fact that we cannot serve two masters. “He will either hate one and love the other or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and mammon.” This is crucial! Our hearts cannot be divided; there is no place for a split between serving God and idolizing other things, whether that’s wealth, jealousy, or dishonesty.

Let us reflect today and check in on our hearts to make sure that we serve one Master, Jesus Christ, who was rich and became poor so that by his poverty, you might become rich. Serving this Master with all honesty in our words and actions is the true place of joy, the richness of grace, and the Kingdom of God. Let’s have our eyes on what truly matters, let us serve Him in small and great matters with trustworthy and honest hearts.

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Briana is the Pastoral Minister at St. Mark Church in Cleveland, OH. She is also a district manager at Arbonne. She received her Bachelor of Arts in Theology and Catechetics from the Franciscan University of Steubenville, OH and is excited to use these skills to serve the Church. “My soul has been refined and I can raise my head like a flower after a storm.” -St. Therese

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Sudden Freedom

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On this Feast of St. Matthew, we acknowledge all the Apostles – those specially chosen by Christ to lead the Church he came to establish for the salvation of all! In a particular way, of course, we look at St. Matthew himself, and the Gospel he wrote records his own calling.

We only know the details provided, which are few, so we are prompted to ask:

Could Matthew have been following him at a distance for some time or was this the first time Jesus ever saw Matthew the tax collector? If so, what did Jesus see in Matthew that prompted him to say, simply, “Follow me.”? What was moved in Matthew that prompted him to simply get up and follow?

We know that tax collectors did not have the esteem of the people, as the demands on them forced them to put demands on others! Perhaps there had been already a slow, gnawing discomfort in Matthew already, in which the counting of coins had lost its luster. Or perhaps that direct encounter with the Lord of Life shone so suddenly and startlingly and brightly in his heart that the coinage that made up his life was suddenly seen as nothing. In either case, it seems he left it all behind in that moment and then held a banquet to celebrate his new freedom in Christ.

This banquet – in which Christ was eating with “tax collectors and sinners” – outraged the Pharisees, who would have seen such persons as a contamination of their purity. Jesus, always rising above the fray, points out that he has come to heal the sick, to call sinners, not the righteous. The implication is that we must first recognize and acknowledge our own need for healing before we can avail ourselves of the medicine of mercy and grace.

How do you identify with this Gospel? With Matthew, who left everything immediately when he was called? With the Pharisees, who cannot yet see how love bends down to those in need? With other sinners at the banquet who are somewhere in between, benefitting from mercy but not sure they are ready to follow this controversial rabbi?

Wherever we are, let us allow the Lord’s words to resonate through our lives and shed their light on every situation: “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.”

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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/.