The Leaven of Language

I love making artisan bread. It sounds fancy, tastes fantastic and yet is so simple to make. Every time, I wonder, “Why I don’t do this more often?” My basic recipe includes flour, warm water, honey, and yeast.

The yeast is a leaven. It literally permeates every molecule of the dough, consuming simple sugars and emitting carbon dioxide into the bubble gum-like gluten causing it to expand and rise, giving the bread texture and contributing to the flavor.

Leaven (or leavened) is mentioned 22 times in the Old Testament and 17 times in the New Testament. It is that property of something small entering into and changing the whole that is used as an analogy over and over, sometimes in a positive vein and sometimes in a negative connotation.

The easiest analogy to make is to compare leaven to sin. It is the small sins which we may discount which change our attitude and decrease our sensitivity to sin so that it becomes easier and easier to sin than to chose to act with virtue.

As the English language continues to evolve, we begin to use words in ways that no longer adhere to the original meaning. For instance, “adore” comes from the Latin, “ad” meaning to and “orare” meaning speak or pray, hence “adore” meaning to speak a prayer, or to worship. Adore is the veneration or worship due only to God. Yet, the synonyms for the word in common usage now include, “like, love, have a liking for, be fond of, be keen on, be partial to, have a taste for, have a weakness for, enjoy, delight in, revel in, take pleasure in, relish, savor, rate highly, regard highly.” A word which once directed us straight to God and our appropriate behavior to Him now is used to describe being “keen” on something. As we use words which once were reserved for God for created things, how does that language act as a leaven in our attitude towards God and our faith?

Today’s readings make a pretty convincing argument for a significant impact. In the Old Testament reading, the God who created us, knows us and loves us, looked at the whole of creation and saw how the leaven of evil had permeated the whole of humanity. The whole of humanity had been consumed with evil to the point where God “regretted he had made man on the earth, and his heart was grieved.” Through Noah, God stops short of wiping men out completely. Through that one man, He saves creation and expands upon his covenant from promising salvation to one couple to salvation to a family. Finally, Jesus comes to fulfill God’s covenant and provide salvation to all men, however, even while He is here to save us, Jesus still warns the disciples to watch against the “leaven of the Pharisees and the leaven of Herod.” The disciples are warned against sharing the destructive attitudes of the Pharisees and Herod toward Jesus.

How much of our attitude is influenced by our language? The word Pharisee means “separated out”. They set themselves apart to so that they could avoid contamination from those who weren’t “God’s chosen people”; most specifically the unclean Gentiles. Language is used to separate people in to “us” and “them” impacting human relationships. How does our relationship with God change when we speak of creatures in the same way we speak of our Creator? Ask God to send the Holy Spirit to enlighten your mind today to the words you use. Start with something familiar, like the Creed and spend some time really understanding the words that were chosen and the insight they provide us into who God is and who we are in His presence. Watch and see, how little changes in the leaven of our language open up our hearts and minds to the wonders God has waiting for us.

Now that is some powerful leaven for good.


If you catch Sheryl sitting still, you are most likely to find her nose stuck in a book. It may be studying with her husband, Tom as he goes through Diaconate Formation, trying to stay one step ahead of her 5th and 6th-grade students at St Rose of Lima Catholic School or preparing for the teens she serves as Director of Youth Evangelization and Outreach in her parish collaborative. You can reach her through her through www.youthministrynacc.com.


May Everything In Me Honor You

In our readings today, we look in on different people who present themselves before the Lord: Cain and Abel in the First Reading from Genesis, and, in the Gospel, the Pharisees who come forward and begin to argue with Jesus.

Each day I am aware that I too come forward to present myself before the Lord. Like Cain, I could bring a collection of just some of the fruits of my life and labors, or like Abel, I could bring the finest aspects of my being, my talents, my prayers, my work, my life, and consecrate them to his service. The difference lies in the greater awareness and remembrance, deeper devotion and heart-filled honor that characterized the gifts of Abel to his Maker.

Like the Pharisees, I can demand that Jesus prove himself to me by performing for me signs to my satisfaction until I am convinced he is who he says he is, that he will do what he has promised to do. Or I can take Jesus at his word with utter trust and obedience.

Every one of us, every creature, stands before the Maker. How we stand there is what makes the difference. There is no expectation of perfection in these readings. Rather each person encounters God just as he is. Cain with whatever he has gathered in his heart up to that point. Abel with the deep devotion of one who is small but has given all he has to the Lord. The Pharisees whose hearts were slow to open to Jesus as the Messiah. All of them unfolding, changing and deepening, growing through the years. The rest of their stories, unknown to us, are lost to mystery. We too are people who grow beyond who we are at any given moment.

“May everything in me honor you, O Lord.” It is a prayer I have taken to saying quietly during the day. “May my eyes, my tongue, my memory, my imagination, my feet, my hands, and my heart, my thoughts, words, and desires, honor you, O Lord. All of me for you alone, Jesus. You alone.”

Today, when will you stand before the Lord? Will you encounter him in solitary moments of prayer? In struggle? In service to others? In relationships? Will he catch you by surprise as you read a book, watch a sunset, or listen to music? Will you find him on a bed of pain? In the midnight hours when you cannot sleep? Wherever it is this day that you find yourself consciously standing before your Maker, pray, “May everything in me honor you, O Lord.”


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.


Who Should Eat?

I work for a Catholic publishing company, and so now in early February, we’re already preparing for Lent. That means, naturally, that it’s on my mind, and so I’ve turned my own attention to the Lenten practices I plan to observe this year. The three “pillars” of the early Church— prayer, fasting, and almsgiving—are always at the center of Lenten observances, and they provide a logical current: prayer flows into fasting, and fasting flows into action.

Well, that was the early Church, wasn’t it? And as the Church grew and changed, fasting became a lost discipline. It may have been standard operating procedure for God’s people in both the Hebrew Bible and in the New Testament (in Matthew 6:16, Jesus didn’t say “if you fast”—he said “when you fast”), but because fasting has fallen out of popularity, we don’t recognize it as applicable to our lives. Yet, just like prayer, it can be a powerful tool, comfort, and catalyst for change.

Today’s Gospel is about food: it’s the famous miracle of the loaves and fishes. The disciples were concerned that the crowd of people that had come to hear Jesus had nothing to eat. Were they afraid the crowd would disperse out of hunger? Riot? Or was it just human kindness and compassion that gave rise to their concern? We’re not told that. We’re only told they brought what they had to Jesus—seven loaves and a few small fishes—and Jesus multiplied the food so thousands of people were fed, with seven baskets left over.

It’s an appealing story. An opportunity for Jesus to demonstrate to a crowd that he was more than just another itinerant preacher. A reminder to us that with God, anything is possible.

And yet… and yet.

The United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization estimates that about 815 million of the 7.6 billion people in the world, or ten and a half percent, were suffering from chronic undernourishment in 2016. Almost all hungry people live in lower-middle-income countries, but there are eleven million people undernourished in developed countries—places like the United States.

The irony is this: the world produces enough food to feed everyone. The problem is that many people don’t have sufficient income to purchase—or land to grow—enough food, or to access nutritious food.

So the obvious questions become, why does God allow famine and hunger? Why do children in the wealthiest country on earth go to bed at night hungry? If Jesus could multiply loaves of bread and “a few fishes” to fed multitudes there to hear him speak, why isn’t he concerned about the 815 million undernourished people in the world today?

Perhaps we’re asking the wrong questions. Perhaps it’s not a lack of concern on his part, but on ours.

Jesus lives forever in heaven, but it was never part of the plan for him to live forever on earth. He passed his authority to Peter for one reason—so the Church could continue to do God’s work in the world. So that we, the community of faith, could be the presence, the voice, the love of God to all of humanity. It’s true that with God all things are possible, but God expects us to be the instruments of that possibility.

Which brings us back to fasting. Most of us think of it as a passive activity: we don’t eat something. But if we want change to happen, prayer and fasting are our first steps in the process, and if we’re serious about change, then the two are inseparable. Fasting is what enables prayer: it is an incessant reminder of the need for help and the need for action. Fasting is what sets the process in motion; it gives intentionality to our prayer. Growth and change never come from a place of comfort, and fasting keeps us uncomfortable, forcing us to think about consumption and privilege.

Fasting makes sense if it really chips away at our security and, as a consequence, benefits someone else. It is a sign of becoming aware of and taking responsibility for injustice and oppression, especially of the poor and the least, and is a sign of the trust we place in God and his providence. (Pope Francis)

We live in a culture of fast food, instant gratification, and self-centeredness. Fasting forces us to think intentionally about the foods we eat, the goods we consume, and the ways in which we are privileged. Fasting forces us to consider what it is like to go without. And, honestly, what better way to understand those who are hungry than by… going hungry?

Perhaps as you consider your own Lenten practice this year, you might include the three pillars of the early Church in it: prayer, fasting, almsgiving. Pray to discern what God is calling you to do. Fast—and if you can, make it a real fast, one that leaves you understanding what hunger is about. And then take the money you would have spent on that meal or those meals, and give to an organization fighting hunger.

Jesus didn’t leave the crowds hungry. Neither should we.


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.


Groaning and Healing

How difficult will your healing be? Will it cause Jesus to groan?

Today’s Gospel is best understood in light of the First Reading from Genesis, in which we hear how the serpent tempted the woman, Adam and Eve ate of the forbidden fruit and then hid from God in shame. What does this Original Sin have to do with Jesus healing the deaf man of the Decapolis to the astonishment of those who witnessed it?

The cure worked by Jesus impels the people to say, “He has done all things well. He makes the deaf hear and mute speak.” These words echo Isaiah’s prophecy of the blessings the Messiah would bring to the people (Is 35:4-6, Wis 10:21). It is clear that Jesus is announcing and enacting the long-awaited Good News, the Good News first announced to Adam and Eve after the Fall. Jesus IS the Savior who will set things right again and usher in a new creation.

This work of re-creation and salvation begins when Jesus is enfleshed in Mary’s womb, and his humanity participates in a personal way in the miracles he performs. He speaks to the crowds, but he heals people one-on-one: he talks to them, touches them, uses his own spittle to touch their tongues or their eyes… His attention to each one of us is very personal. In this particular instance, Jesus could have cured the man from a distance with a word, but he chose to illustrate the personal nature of his attention to each of us and his own personal nature by taking the man aside, touching the broken parts of his body, and praying aloud for his healing.

As he works this healing, Jesus groans. This is certainly not because this task was difficult for him! Perhaps it was to show us the difficulty of healing of those who are spiritually deaf and dumb due to the effects of sin. Sin closes us off spiritually from God, from each other, and from our true selves, in much the same way that dumbness and deafness (and blindness) make interacting difficult on a physical level. But Jesus comes to save us and longs to heal us so that we can live in true union with God and with each other, and become our best selves, the selves we are created to be.

What is the condition for this healing? We must surrender to it, give God permission and opportunity to work on us and in us at prayer and work with grace to conform our wills to His glorious will for us. When we do this, as Pope Benedict XVI said, “we losing nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing of what makes life free, beautiful and great… (Jesus) takes nothing away, and he gives you everything.”


Kathryn Mulderink, MA, is married to Robert, Station Manager for Holy Family Radio. Together they have seven children (including Deacon 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 www.KathrynTherese.com.


Leisure and Service

Today’s Gospel is the episode of Jesus healing the Gentile woman’s daughter who had an unclean spirit. It takes all of the predictable turns of Jesus’ encounters with the poor: they beg, He has mercy, and they are healed.

I’ve heard this a million times; Jesus heals her. Saw that one coming. Yes, yes and yes.

At first glance, this is a very predictable tale. However, as I read through it today, the detail that stuck out to me the most was actually at the very beginning of the story:

“He entered a house and wanted no one to know about it,
but he could not escape notice.”
-Mark 7:24

In the side column notes of my Fireside New American Bible, the commentary suggests that his visit to Tyre “may have been for respite” (1075). If it is true that Jesus really was tired and wanted a little privacy to recuperate, then the entire message and significance of the story changes.

My view of Jesus has been slowly changing from a static, indomitable force of love and mercy to a living and breathing Person to whom I can actually relate. For the record, I have zero cases of driving out demons, but I do know what it feels like to need some alone time to rest. That is “self-love” or “self-maintenance” that I think each person has a responsibility to uphold. Even Jesus needed it!

But despite His weariness or His humanity, He doesn’t close the door and say,

“Sorry, I’m on break. Come back in an hour.”

 He engages her, gives His attention and loves her.

Perhaps, in God’s divine wisdom, He knew this was an important Gospel to be read on a holiday for which love has been reduced to sentimentality, chocolates, and roses.

Real love is more than that.

It is willing the good of the other. It is choosing to serve our beloved even when we are tired. Love means choosing the other over ourselves. 

Happy Valentine’s Day!


During the week, Matthew Juliano is a mentor for individuals who have developmental and intellectual disabilities. He has started a Youtube Series that explains and raises awareness about the work he does, which can be found HERE. On the weekends, he is a drummer for Full Armor Band. You can find more content by Matt and his band at www.fullarmorband.com.


The Breath of Life

In the first reading today we hear the second story of creation. Where the first story paints the big picture of creation, the second quickly focuses on mankind in the Garden of Eden. I want to highlight two parts of this reading. The first is the creation of man. The scripture says, “the LORD God formed man out of the clay of the ground and blew into his nostrils the breath of life, and so man became a living being.”

In the first creation story we hear about speaking creation into being, “God said…and there was.” But here we see God forming man out of clay. If you’ve ever made anything out of clay you know how physical and involved that process is. God didn’t merely call man into being, He crafted man with His hands. Then God got right into man’s face and breathed life into his nostrils. That’s how close God was to man.

But, as we will hear on Friday, man rejected God. Adam and Eve used the incredible freedom God had given them and rebelled against Him. And it’s at that moment that death became apart of man’s reality. God didn’t curse us with death because of sin, rather, we chose death. When we rejected God we rejected the very life He breathed into us, we chose not-life. So God banished Adam from the Garden and, “stationed the cherubim and the fiery revolving sword, to guard the way to the tree of life” (Gen 3:24).

Note that the tree of life is not the forbidden tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Before they sinned there are no reasons to think that Adam and Eve didn’t eat freely from the tree of life, but now access to the tree has been severed. Mankind was separated from that fruit for thousands of years. Then God sent us a New Adam to undo the sin of the first.

Christian tradition recognizes the cross as the tree of life. A device that symbolized suffering and death, the worst effects of sin, was transformed into the image of salvation. And the fruit of this new tree of life, the fruit God sent angels with flaming swords to guard, is the very flesh of God: Christ’s body and blood, the Eucharist, the source of Divine Life.

Then on the very day of His resurrection Jesus, the first day of the New Creation, the Son of God, once again breaths on mankind.

“On the evening of that first day of the week, when the doors were locked, where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in their midst and said to them, ‘Peace be with you.’ When he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side. The disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.

[Jesus] said to them again, ‘Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.’ And when he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained’” (John 20:19-23).

Where the first Adam rejected the breath of life through his sin, the New Adam breaths divine life, the very power to remove sins, on His apostles. The death and resurrection of Christ is the great reversal of the Fall.

As a final reflection, I would like to draw your attention to the image at the top of this article. It’s a painting by Rembrandt titled, “Christ and St. Mary Magdalen at the Tomb.” Notice a couple of things. First, drawing from John’s Gospel where Mary Magdalen mistakes the resurrected Jesus for the gardener, Rembrandt depicts Christ with gardening tools. The God who tilled the Garden of Eden is now dressed as a gardener on the first day of the New Creation. And the angels, the ones God had sent to the tree of life with flaming swords, their job is done. They can relax and lounge in the garden. The tree of life is open again.


Paul Fahey is a husband, father, and a parish director of religious education. If you like what he has to say, read his work at Where Peter Is, check out his blog, The Porch, or follow him on Facebook.


Unwashed Hands, Unwashed Hair

One Christmas holiday several years ago, my oldest niece, a college student at the time, brought her boyfriend home to meet my parents, her grandparents. The first morning of their visit, Mark came to the breakfast table with a Kansas State ballcap on his head. He hadn’t had time to take a shower before breakfast and was embarrassed to be seen with “bed head.” Unfortunately, my niece had neglected to tell Mark one of the longstanding rules of my childhood home: No ballcaps in the house, and certainly not at the table.

As we all sat down for breakfast, my father looked over at Mark and said, “No ballcaps at the table.” (And it wasn’t because my father was a KU fan and not a K-State fan!) Mark started to explain that he hadn’t washed his hair when my father interrupted him: “Mark, if you want to be a member of this family, then you will follow our rules.” Mark took off his hat, patted his hair down as best he could, and 27 years and four daughters later, he and my niece are happily married with family rules of their own.

The scribes and Pharisees are enforcers of the law, even though it’s virtually lifeless and stifles true religious devotion and worship. When they see Jesus and his disciples eating without washing their hands they don’t see anything besides a so-called religious law being broken. They don’t see anything but their power and authority being questioned.

My father’s “no ballcap rule” was intended to instill respect. It was meant to sanctify the family meal and our participation in it. It all comes down to the value and need of tradition, which is life-giving vs. mindless obedience to laws, which distance people from God and the faith.

Honoring a well-thought-out rule teaches us obedience. We learn to humbly accept what is being passed on to us so that we may be members of a family…God’s family.


Father Tim S. Hickey is a priest of the Archdiocese of Hartford currently serving as a mission priest in the Catholic Diocese of Dodge City, in his native Kansas. He is pastor of three parishes in rural Western Kansas.


Do Whatever He Tells You

Today, the Church celebrates the feast of Our Lady of Lourdes, when in 1858, the Blessed Mother appeared to a 14-year-old girl in Lourdes, France. Now, over 160 years later, millions of people travel to the very place where Mary appeared seeking comfort and healing. It has also become a place for renewal of faith and conversion, which is a central part of Mary’s ministry.

She appeared 18 times from February 11 to July 16, 1858 to St. Bernadette, a peasant girl who flunked her catechetics exam. Her message was simple; she sought to heal the sick by the Lord’s Grace and remind us to pray for the conversion of sinners.

In today’s gospel, we hear the story of the Wedding at Cana when Christ performs his first public miracle—turning water into wine after the Blessed Mothers direct intercession when she realizes that there is no wine—a staple of the ancient world. Mary notices that the wine is out and turns to her son for help. She recognizes a need among her children and acts.

Christ responds, “Quid tibi mihi?”— “Woman, how does your concern affect me? My hour has not yet come.” These may seem like disrespectful words coming from Jesus, especially to his mother. But he is speaking to Mary, the New Eve, as the New Adam. In the gospel of John, when Jesus refers to his “hour”, he is referring to Calvary. In essence, he is telling Mary, “Woman, if I do this, we are on the fast track to Calvary. Are you ready for that?”

Mary seeks the servants at the wedding, which can also be translated as slaves—the lowest of all the classes at the wedding. Then we hear the last words from the Blessed Mother recorded in Scripture. “Do whatever he tells you.” It’s a central theme in all of her apparitions—a call to conversion and to know Christ. And how beautiful is it that these are her final recorded words!

They speak perfectly to the role of Mary in our lives. She’s not meant to be a distraction from our worship of Christ, she’s meant to point us to him. She gives advice as a good mother does to ensure that her children are on the correct path.

She especially has the heart for what society may consider the lowliest of all—a small, sickly peasant girl in France and the servants at a wedding who have the blessed opportunity to know the wine came from God himself.

Her message at Lourdes and her final message in Scripture are challenging. They are meant to change hearts, but it is only the humble of hearts who can receive her words and act. How are you embracing the witness of Saint Bernadette and the servants at Cana?  Turn to Mary and pray for her intercession, that you too may call upon the help of the Lord and “do whatever he tells you.”


Hannah Crites is a native to Denver Colorado and graduate of Franciscan University of Steubenville. She has written for numerous publications and blogs including the Chastity Project, Washington Times, Faith & Culture: The Journal of the Augustine Institute, and Franciscan Magazine. She is currently working in content and digital marketing for a small web development and digital marketing agency. Connect with her through Twitter (@hannah_crites) and Facebook. Check out more of what she has written at https://hannhcrites.com/.


Our Good Shepherd

Today would have been my grandmother’s 85th birthday. She died 14 years ago when I was 10 but I still miss her fiercely every day.

The first reading comes from the closing verses of Hebrews and it reminded me a lot of her. The Hebrews and, in turn, we are told to “Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have; God is pleased by sacrifices of that kind”. My grandmother was the most selfless person I know. She gave everything of herself: her time, her talent, her treasure. And all of that, even if it didn’t go directly in the collection at Mass, went to serving God and showing His love and compassion to all those she encountered. That is exactly what the first reading is calling us to do–please God with our everyday sacrifices of love and charity.

The first reading also encourages us to follow our leaders: our priests, our religious brothers, and sisters, our deacons, our bishops, our cardinals, our pope. Our leaders’ vocation is to lead the flock and to do so with joy. Our role is to actively seek out our leaders for guidance, for support, for counsel, and for instruction. By doing so, by putting our trust in our leaders to help guide us toward Heaven, we help them live out their own vocation.

The last two verses of the reading are a blessing to people in which the author refers to Christ as the Good Shepherd. Today’s Gospel is the precursor to the multiplication of loaves; Christ shows that He is the Good Shepherd by providing the people spiritual food thereby satisfying their spiritual hunger before He satisfies their physical hunger. He responds to the needs of His flock with compassion and by having compassion for those who were “like sheep without a shepherd”, Christ teaches us how to bring others into the faith and closer to him.

Let us go about this day, and all our days, serving Christ our King fearlessly for, “Even though I walk through the dark valley I fear no evil; for you are at my side.”


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 engaged 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.


The Veil Between

Praying with today’s readings has me focusing on the letter from the Hebrews. Hospitality, prisoners, the ill-treated, married couples as well as the greedy, the immoral and adulterers–the whole gamut of life, both good and ill, is referenced.

It goes on to say to be content with what we have, ‘I will never forsake you or abandon you.’ This is said 3 other times in the bible; Deut 31:6, Joshua 1:5 and  Mt 28:20. We are told to say with confidence: The Lord is my helper, and I will not be afraid. What can anyone do to me? Here is one of the 365 times the bible tells us not to be afraid, yet I catch myself being anxious and fearful about some aspect of life every day.

It seems these fears, depression, anxiety, and illnesses can act as a veil. It limits our focus or world view to just getting through the current situation affecting me. It can cloud my hope and my ability to feel the love or care being offered by companions, family, and friends.  

Recently, my pastor referred to the veil that separates heaven and earth. He emphasized that the veil dissolves during the liturgy of the Eucharist every single time Mass is offered. He stressed that we can see the Father’s love outpoured in the living sacrifice we receive in the body and blood of His Son.

It struck me that this veil is so similar to that of those affected by illness (mental or physical). Many in society see only the illness, not the person. I think of my family members who struggle with reclusiveness, alcoholism, narcissism, COPD, Lyme disease, cancer, anxiety, and so many other maladies. This veil can keep the truth hidden in each situation, by those directly affected and those who are looking to judge. Similarly, there are many in the world who do not see the Eucharist as Jesus’ physical body and blood. A veil is over their eyes to the truth.

Pope Francis spoke to the youth of the world (WYD 2016 & 2019) about praying the stations of the cross because the stations are not just for our Lenten journey. The following introduction to the Way of the Cross at the Colosseum 2013 begins, “The call to follow Christ is addressed to all, especially to the young and to those who are tried by division, wars or injustice and who fight to be signs of hope and builders of peace in the midst of their brethren.”

We contemplate you, Lord, along this path which you were the first to tread, and after which “you built a bridge to death with your Cross, so that men might pass from the land of death to the land of Life” (Saint Ephraim the Syrian, Homily).

Therefore, join me in placing ourselves before you with love, we present our sufferings to you, we turn our gaze and our heart to your Holy Cross, and strengthened by your promise, we pray: “Blessed be our Redeemer, who has given us life by his death. O Redeemer, realize in us the mystery of your redemption, through your passion, death, and resurrection” (Maronite Liturgy).


Beth is part of the customer service team at Diocesan. She brings a unique depth of experience to the team from her time spent in 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.


Go to Him

I found something extremely interesting in today’s Gospel. The first line says that Jesus summoned his disciples and then sent them out. A lot of the time, we may feel that we are being asked to live our lives, but feel unprepared.

As someone that loves a good plan, it can be really hard for me when things go wrong. In life, how can you plan for the unplannable? Well, that’s where Mark 6:7 comes in, because we are not just sent out into the world to magically deal with everything. First, we are summoned by Jesus Christ himself.

Our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, our God, loves us so deeply that if we were the only people in existence, he would create the world all the same. He would do it all over again if it were just you. This is a God that calls us. We don’t spread the message about Jesus because it’s written in the Bible, we spread the message because we have a love so great that it cannot be contained.

I was recently talking about the song Reckless Love and how it makes me cry every time. When asked why I said that the song made me feel so vulnerable and recognize how much I needed God. Right after I said that they that told me that it’s okay to come when He calls.

So many of us are afraid of asking for help, afraid of admitting we were wrong, or even worse, we feel guilty. That shouldn’t keep us from God. These feelings of pride and guilt are feelings straight from Satan. We don’t need to hide our nakedness from God. In fact, we are summoned to him, just for having these feelings so that he can show us just how wrong we are.

We are loved and we are worth it. This is what God is trying to tell us. If we weren’t worth it, then he wouldn’t have sent his only son to be crucified. He wouldn’t have made Jesus a human, someone we could relate to. I don’t even think that God would have bothered creating Adam, let alone Eve, his companion. But he did. Because you are worth it.

So when you are feeling unworthy and unsuccessful, remember that God is not asking you to face the world alone. He is summoning you with open arms. Go to him.

Haven’t heard Reckless Love? Click here to hear my favorite version. (It’s okay to cry.)


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.


The Struggle is Real

Trying to write this post, the struggle is real. I’ve sat down to these readings and this Google Doc three, four, five times already and still find myself struggling to find the right words. The. Struggle. Is. Real. Not just when it comes to this reflection, though.

Over the past few months, this saying and other variations of it have slipped their way into my everyday conversation and I know that I’m not alone. When we’re dragging without our coffee, when there’s too much on our plate, when we’re having a bad day, week or month, we admit that we’re struggling with a laugh and a wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll shake it off,” “Things will get better,”  “It’s gotta go up from here” and more. We’re afraid to show weakness, to show the depths of our struggles. I know that’s true for me.

When you find yourself in a situation like the one described above, how do you react? When someone approaches you and admits that they are struggling (even if it’s concealed in a joke), how do you respond?

More often than not, you find yourself relating to the person, even through the joke. Burdens, struggles, challenges, trials, etc. are all a natural part of human life. But how often do you offer your help to those in need? We often shy away, afraid that their problems will become our problems, adding to the burdens that are already present.

It’s the same when it comes to living a Christian life, where sin and struggle go hand in hand. We are ashamed of our sin and so we tend to hide not only from each other but from the Lord Himself. When we hide, Satan uses our shame against us. The king of lies takes our struggles, magnifies them and multiplies them, doing anything he can to keep us away from our God.

As Catholics, we commonly refer to our struggles as “crosses.” The difference is that we know the benefits and blessings that can come from carrying our cross. We look to the ultimate example – Jesus – as His Passion and death which led to the glory of His Resurrection and the salvation of all.

Today’s first reading from the Book of Hebrews gives us encouragement in our battles, advice and a reason to hope for the future. We are told to endure our trials as “discipline” (verse 7) “for whom the Lord loves, he disciplines” (verse 6). Through that discipline “brings the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who are trained by it” (verse 11).

If we can allow the Lord to use our burdens, He can and will do wonderful things with them. Easier said than done, right? Absolutely. Remembering that our burdens don’t just magically disappear, if we allow Jesus to help us carry them, abundant blessings can be poured out in return.

Embrace the struggle, brothers and sisters. Admit that it is real and that we need help.


Erin is a Parma Heights, Ohio, native and a 2016 graduate of Franciscan University of Steubenville. She uses her communication arts degree in a couple of different ways: first, as an Athletic Communications Assistant at Baldwin Wallace University and, secondly, as a youth minister at her home parish of Holy Family Church. Although both of her jobs are on complete opposite spectrums, she truly enjoys being able to span the realm of communications. You can follow her on multiple Twitter accounts – @erinmadden2016 (personal), @bwathletics (work) and @HFVision (youth ministry).