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Love One Another

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Perhaps the most quoted Gospel of all time shot off the page to me with new meaning as I sat in Mass on Saturday evening. We have all heard, love one another; that’s like the basics. Have you ever let something so simple lose its weight because of its simplicity?

Our priest took this familiar passage in a bit of a different direction that made me think. He said if we all acted like we were supposed to, the whole world would be converted. After all, everyone will know we belong to Christ because of our love for one another. These are words directly from Christ himself.

It really made me think. Have I done this in my life? I know I’m supposed to love God and love my neighbor, but has my love for others been a beacon that lets people know who I belong to? I hope it has.

How about you? Has your love been infectious to the point that a total stranger knows who your savior is? Again, these are the basics. People sometimes complain that homilies are too often about loving others and not about morality. This may be true at times but look around you. The fact that the whole world isn’t converted means we still have not grasped the basics.

We can all love better. That’s just the simple reality. I love the teachings of Saint John Paul II because he really set up a major shift in thought from objective truths to personal experience. He did not get rid of the objective facts but brought us to them through our own personal experience. We know God is love because we have experienced it. This is a model of evangelization that I have found very effective. Until someone experiences love it is hard to talk to them about the objective truths of morality, but once love is experienced, morality starts to make sense, it wells up from within as opposed to being edicts forced from without.

Doctrine and dogma have their place, but we have not even begun to grasp the basics. We need both. This is my challenge this week and a good reminder as I sat there in front of the Eucharist. We should always be living in such a way that people know we are Christians by our love, and it shows through our moral actions. 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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How Love Changes Everything

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Love. We sing about it, talk about it, aspire to it, even are blessed enough to experience it. People do both intensely beautiful and amazingly wicked things for love. It can be the most selfless and also the most selfish of feelings.

I remember one of my first romances; I had to be all of fifteen or sixteen. And very, very insecure. After our first awkward adolescent declaration of love, I believed if he were not actively continuing to declare it, his love for me had somehow disappeared. So every time we saw each other, I asked him, “Do you love me? Do you really love me?”

My teenaged Romeo—quite rightly—finally had enough and decided that he didn’t love me after all. I was devastated, of course, and wrote a lot of bad self-pitying poetry in response, as one does. It was a good lesson in trust, and I don’t think I made that particular mistake in subsequent relationships (though of course, I made plenty of others!).

I don’t remember the first time I read or heard today’s Gospel passage, but I do remember my response to it: surprise. How could Jesus, who knows everything, who sees into the very hearts of those around him, how could he keep asking the same question I’d once repetitively asked with such teenage angst? Even Peter is astonished by the repetition: you know everything there is to know, you’ve got to know I love you!

As happens with many scripture passages, there’s a subtlety here that isn’t immediately apparent. Jesus isn’t asking Peter how much Peter loves him; Jesus is asking about how Peter loves him. It’s not a question meant to quantify, but rather to qualify.

“Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” What is Jesus asking Peter here? Peter, a little taken aback, says, yes, of course you know I do. Jesus responds by saying, in essence, “Okay, then, feed my lambs.” Fair enough.

But then Jesus presses the point. “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter is paying closer attention now; perhaps he wants to make sure he hears Jesus correctly. “You know I do,” he says. This time, Jesus says, “Then tend my sheep.”

The question has not changed, but its consequence has. If you answer yes the first time, that’s all well and good, and I expect you to continue as we’ve been doing together, feeding those who hunger for the Word of God — giving my children sustenance. But the second question’s consequence is more profound: tend my sheep.

There’s a big difference between feeding and tending, just as there’s a difference between lambs and sheep. I happen to be rather fond of sheep, and I enjoy going to county fairs and petting them; sometimes, I’ve been allowed to give a bottle of milk to a lamb. It’s a lovely experience, and then it’s over. I go back to my life, and someone else does the hard part, keeping the flock safe, shearing the wool, staying up when one is sick. I “love” sheep, but my love doesn’t extend to caring for them. It’s a love without commitment.

Feeding lambs is one thing, but caring for the whole lifetime of the sheep requires more, a deeper commitment, a real love that transcends inconvenience and hardship. Tend my sheep, Jesus said. Take care of one another; accompany your sisters and brothers on the journey to healing. Commit to them, not just for the moments you’re together, but forever.

And then, unbelievably, Jesus asks Peter yet a third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?”

This time Peter gets exasperated. “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you!” to which Jesus reiterates that Peter is to feed his sheep. He adds something else, a foreshadowing of the future, and finally ends his questioning with the most significant consequence of all: “Follow me.”

The commitment of a shepherd to his flock is total; it has to be. Their lives depend on it. There can’t be favorites: the shepherd is there for every one of those sheep. And Jesus is asking us to care about him and each other in precisely that way. That’s what love is — not a breathless self-serving declaration of a feeling, but a lifetime commitment.

To love me, says Jesus, is to follow me. To follow me is to care genuinely, effectively, and appropriately for others, and that includes standing up for those the world has forgotten, speaking out for those in misery and poverty. To love me is to follow me; this also means doing the unpopular and the misunderstood.

English, though well-intentioned, is a language without much subtlety. We use the word “love” for many different things: I love ice cream, I love my child, I love to read, I love God. The Greek of the New Testament wisely knows all love is not equal, and it uses these differences in language to make a point lost to us in English. The word for love Jesus uses is agapa: a verb meaning sacrificial, redemptive love, the highest form of love.

“Do you love me in this way, Peter?” And Peter responds, “Yes, Lord, you know I am your friend; I have such affection for you,” using the Greek verb philein. But this kind of love between friends or even family is not necessarily agape love. So Jesus asks again, “But do you love me? You’re not hearing me! What is the quality of your love, Peter?”

What is the quality of your love?

Jesus tells Peter the answer: if this is love, then there are consequences. You will go where you don’t want to go. You will do what you won’t want to do. If you love me, you will follow me, and the journey will not always be to your liking.

Loving Christ entails consequences. Loving him will take us on a journey that is long, and arduous, and often very scary indeed. Loving him means being with others on their journey, and looking out for them along the way and keeping them safe, as the shepherd keeps his sheep safe. Keeping them nourished and healthy, as the shepherd keeps his sheep nourished and healthy. That’s loving well. That’s what Jesus was trying to show Peter.

Do you love him?
Do you love him?
Do you love him?

When Jesus was alone in Gethsemane, he was saddened by the disciples falling asleep and leaving him to face the night alone. I used to read that and think, I wouldn’t have fallen asleep, I would have stayed with him. Then I got older and wiser and understood with some sadness that I, too, would have slept.

Peter slept. And now, after the crucifixion, after the resurrection, Jesus is giving him a chance to redeem himself, by clarifying the kind of love Peter will need to sustain him into the future and to sustain the church for which he will become responsible. This is not a love for the faint of heart. This is a love that cares more for others than for self. This is a love that keeps all the sheep safe, no matter what the threat, even if it means dying to protect them.

Love changes everything. Can we love that way? That well?

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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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Where’s My Map?

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When I was twenty, I knew exactly what the rest of my life would look like. I had it all mapped out. I’d created goals and lists for the steps it would take to attain them. And now, decades later, I can tell you that it all came to pass exactly as I’d imagined.

Okay, just kidding. My life has resembled what I thought it would be in the same way a turtle resembles a quiche. It has been filled with detours, surprises, and a whole lot of recalibrating the goals and the lists. I suspect yours has, too.

The difficult lesson to learn here is that we’re not in control. We can map out the simplest journey and have our plans come off the rails; there are too many factors that can change everything, whether in a split second or in a long, gradual way. We create our goals and make our lists in an attempt to tame the chaos of the world around us. We really, really want to know where a journey is taking us before we set off on it.

Jesus understood our need to look at the road ahead, to know where we’re going, to visualize the future. In today’s Gospel passage, on the night before the crucifixion, Jesus tells his disciples that he will soon be leaving them. Thomas—always one to try and clarify things—says, in essence, “we have no idea where you’re going, so how do you expect us to know the way?” The disciples are confused. Remember, they haven’t yet grasped that Jesus was not the Messiah who would throw off the tyranny of the Occupation, but rather the Messiah who would bring them eternal life. They’re struggling to understand the next step along the path to freedom. If he’s going somewhere, they need to know where that is and how it fits into the master plan. They’re willing to follow him; they just need to know how.

So where’s the map? Where’s the list? How do we follow you if we can’t see into the future?

Jesus responds, “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life.” We’ve heard this verse so many times, we probably don’t realize how startling it must have been to the twelve Jewish men assembled that night in the Upper Room. They had been taught that the way to God, the truth of God, the life in God, all came to them through the Torah, through keeping the law. And now Jesus is opening up an invitation to the world: it isn’t only the high priest who can stand in the presence of God. Through Jesus, all people can access that presence.

The disciples loved the Torah; they kept the law. The Torah was their touchstone. It provided a roadmap. It’s filled with what are, in essence, a lot of lists and goals. Follow this way, keep the law, be faithful, and salvation will be yours.

Jesus knew the world can be a difficult and ambiguous place. He knew that plans go awry, that we often have to stop and recalibrate and set ourselves once more upon our path. He wanted to give humanity a different way to God: through love, rather than law. But love, as we’ve all discovered, has no roadmap. Love takes us down winding roads and along hidden footpaths; it takes us to places we never imagined existed. Love isn’t susceptible to plans or goals or lists.

Following Jesus means trusting in love. It means leaving our internal satellite navigation system off. It means not always seeing the road ahead. It means accepting the ambiguity and unknowns of a journey through a foreign land. It means trusting that he will be our guide, instead of all the maps and GPS systems and lists we cling to.

It means, at the end of the day, accepting that we can’t control our lives, our world, our future. Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life; God is the one in control. If we put our trust in that promise, if we let go of our fears, then we will have a future we could never have imagined for ourselves. Stepping into that future only requires one thing: faith. Letting go of our lists and goals and letting Jesus lead us instead.

Sometimes, when there’s heavy cloud cover, our satellite navigation systems stop working, and we feel stranded, lost, even afraid. The beginning of today’s reading assures us that we don’t have to feel that way: don’t let your heart be troubled. I am going to take care of you. I’m going to prepare a place for you, and I’ll be back to guide you there.

There’s no amount of cloud cover that can separate us from the guide who will help us navigate life and live forever in the Father. And that trumps lists and GPS systems any day!

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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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Foundations

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As humans, we like to categorize everything we can, right down to our life stages. There are the categories of childhood and adulthood, but even within these two categories, we break them down even further. For adults, there’s young adulthood, B.C. (before children), parenthood, A.C. (after children), retirement, etc. We prefer to have clear-cut lines of when things start and end, and how to differentiate between them.

Quite often, we forget that each “part” of our lives is not a separate book that we close after graduations or milestones, but rather a chapter in our book. Each second of our future builds upon the present, which becomes our past. It is nearly impossible to look at our current situations and not be able to trace the chain of events of how we got there. Be it by gifts from God or decisions we carefully thought out, our past is always with us. It is the foundation that we build ourselves upon, yet we often find ourselves trying to forget the past.

In today’s first reading, we read of the synagogue officials in Antioch asking if anyone has any announcements. Paul stands up and begins speaking to them of God’s mighty hand in their past and goes on to tell them about Jesus, the savior.

Sometimes we can blow our past way out of proportion and tell ourselves that we must forget about our previous experiences to be able to move forward. Instead, I think we should remember that our past has built us up. It is not the mistakes that we’ve made in the past that defines us, but rather what we do after that.

I understand that we might have moments in our past that we aren’t proud of, things that may be hard to revisit, but typically those mistakes and struggles have changed who we presently are. The more mistakes we make, the more we learn so that we don’t make the same mistakes in the future. Even if we do make those same mistakes, that’s okay. We’re learning. As children, we don’t fall off a bike and say, “Well that was a mistake. I’ll never try that again,” but instead try once more.

When you fall, what do you do? Are you ashamed of your past or do you use it as the foundation for better choices?

Dear Lord,
Thank you for the struggles that you have placed in my life.
Help me remember that each mistake I made was for a reason.
Thank you for giving me these moments to learn from.
Help me use these experiences to better serve You and Your people.
Thank you for showing mercy towards my sins.
Help me forgive myself and remove the burden of sin.

Amen.

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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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A Martyr for the Anxious

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“Anxiety is the greatest evil that can befall a soul, except sin. God commands you to pray, but He forbids you to worry.”
-St. Francis de Sales

Today is the feast day of St. Dymphna, the patron saint of mental health and anxiety. A young woman that lived in 7th century Ireland she gave Christ her life through a vow of chastity. Amidst this time her mother passed away and her father’s mental health began to deteriorate from devastation at the loss. After time spent trying to find a wife malicious individuals suggested that her father take St. Dymphna for his wife. She immediately fled her homeland with a group of individuals in order to escape her father’s pursuit. Once she settled in Geel she is said to have established a hospital for the sick, but her father discovered her whereabouts. The party traveling with St. Dymphna was killed, and ultimately her own father took her life when she refused to break her vow of chastity.  

I read the story of St. Dymphna, someone I did not know much of before writing this post, and I am in awe. How did she live her life facing all of these trials – the death of her mother, the decline of her father’s mental health, fleeing to another land, and facing death at the hands of her own father? While I do not know what her demeanor was when she faced the moment of her death I imagine her looking to Jesus and trusting Him with her whole heart – in turn, I believe Him to be holding her head in His hands and gazing with love upon her devotion to Him in the worst of times.

I think of the anxieties that I have faced and continue to face in my own life and they are huge stumbling blocks. With obsessive-compulsive disorder it is easy to feel like a prisoner in your own body, feeling as though you have no control over your emotions, reactions, tendencies, and ultimately decisions which makes it difficult to just “let go” of the stress. Often there is a snowball effect with OCD and other forms of anxiety – the smallest things that may not bother someone at all in their life bothers me on a daily basis because of other stressors I have experienced throughout the day. I can start crying at the drop of a hat, to the point where I hate my emotions.

Amidst all of this anxiety, God has presented treasures along the way that have helped me to actually love having OCD. Meeting my husband was one of the first times I realized that my OCD is not a burden, but it truly makes me who I am. He has loved me through all of it, encouraging me to receive the support I needed to manage my OCD. Through my husband I see the eyes of Christ loving me the whole way, walking by my side and showing me the beauty in my diagnosis.

While it is still a daily battle, dealing with compulsions based upon a need to soothe obsessions that come into my head, I have grown ever closer to Christ and Our Mother through the trials that come with OCD and anxiety. It has become a choice to wake up every day and offer it to the Lord, accepting all that will come my way. When we look into the eyes of Jesus He calls us to follow, to be more like him, something of which St. Dymphna abided to the end of her earthly life.  My spiritual director once reminded me that my OCD is helping me become more like Christ, something of which has changed my life forever. Know that any anxieties, emotions, or fears that you face God conquered them all, just like He conquered death when He rose again. In times of darkness be reminded that the light will always shine brighter, all we need to do is ask God to open our hearts and receive the light so that we can navigate this life no matter how dark it may become.

“Let us throw ourselves into the ocean of His goodness, where every failing will be canceled and anxiety turned into love.” –St. Paul of the Cross

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

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Abiding in Love: God’s Work, God’s Way

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Today we celebrate the Feast of St. Matthias, a disciple who had followed Jesus from the beginning of his ministry all the way to the Ascension. The Apostles understood their role representing the 12 Tribes of Israel, so when Judas chose “to go to his own place” (Acts 1:25) by betraying Jesus, someone needed to fill the gap. Relying on the Holy Spirit, they added Matthias – who had remained with Jesus in faithful love to the end – to complete the 12 Apostles. In essence, the fidelity of St. Matthias makes up for the betrayal of Judas.

St. Matthias is a vivid illustration of Jesus’ words in today’s Gospel: “It was not you who chose me, but I who chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit that will remain.” Always, the will and action of God come first, and it is our task to respond generously! Matthias was called to preach the Good News. In each of our lives, there is a choosing and a calling. Why? Love. Always, God’s love is first and last, Alpha and Omega, reason and cause and endpoint. We come from Love, we are returning to Love, and Love is supporting and rescuing us every step of the way.

What is this love like? Jesus tells his disciples how much he loves us: just as the Father loves the Son, so the Son loves each of us. It is for us to remain in this love. This is a mystery for us because our human minds cannot penetrate the secret Life of God; it is only by loving truly and fully that we can begin to taste this Life for which – for Whom – we are created. We are chosen and called to respond to the Love of Christ, which is offered to us continually. How do we remain in the love of Christ? He tells us that we abide in his love by keeping his commandments. What is his commandment? To love one another as he loves us. 

We all know we are called to love others. But do we reflect on what it means to love as Jesus loves? Again, the next line of today’s Gospel tells us clearly: “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” We must be willing to be poured out completely for the good of others, particularly the eternal good of others. Because the only fruit that remains is eternal fruit: helping others find the Way and the Truth and the Life so that their lives are filled with peace and meaning and deep joy, no matter their external circumstances. We are created to be arrows pointing to the Father with our lives, for His glory and the good of others.

So we must work to make it our aim to do God’s work God’s way, God’s will for God’s glory. THEN we will be keeping his commandment, and abiding in His love. Alleluia!

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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 https://www.kathryntherese.com/.

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Our Lady of Fatima

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Today, the Feast of Our Lady of Fatima, 3 people will make their initial Consecration to Jesus through Mary in our parish. We have spent the last 33 days “on retreat” as we have read, pondered and discussed Fr. Michael Gaitley’s book, “33 Days to Morning Glory.”

It has been one of the most profound times of preparation I have ever been through. My husband and I made our initial Consecration about 5 years ago. Looking back, I wish I had kept better track of the groups we have led through the same process since then. There have been at least a couple every year. However, this time through has been different. I have received the most amazing grace of being able to see more clearly than ever just how Mary has been working in my life and the immense changes that have happened as a result of entrusting myself to her and allowing her to lead me closer to Jesus.

In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus gives us the parable of the sheep in the sheepfold. “…he walks ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they recognize his voice. But they will not follow a stranger; they will run away from him because they do not recognize the voice of strangers.”

Without me even consciously realizing it, ever since my consecration, Mary has been helping me recognize my shepherd’s voice. Through the power of the Holy Spirit, she has cleared my heart and my mind of so much of the flotsam and jetsam of life which blocks my really hearing Jesus’s softly whispered call. He calls with such tenderness and such mercy, he never rushes and he never forces, he waits for our “Yes” in each and every moment. The Catechism tells us that the call to conversion is on-going, “it is the movement of a ‘contrite heart’ drawn and moved by grace to respond to the merciful love of God who loved first.” (CCC 1428) Saying yes to Mary has made it easier to say yes to God in all the little things.

In the reading from the Acts of the Apostles, Peter is speaking of eating with the Gentiles and he says, “‘John baptized with water but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.’ If God gave them the same gift he gave to us when we came to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I to be able to hinder God?” Peter’s words are so powerful that those who are arguing with him stop immediately and begin praising God. Peter may have been talking about eating with those who were considered outsiders, but it seems to me, he could just as well have been speaking about consecration to Our Blessed Mother. We are baptized with the Holy Spirit, who has deigned to distribute his graces through the mother of his son, Mary. Through the disciple John, Jesus gave Mary as a spiritual mother to all of us. To be bold enough to use John’s words another way, if God gave the same gift, Mary, when we came to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I to be able to hinder God?

A quick word about numbers, 3 people making their initial consecration may not sound like much, but 3 people with hearts set on fire for Jesus through Mary can each set 3 more hearts on fire who then make their consecration and who each then set 3 more hearts on fire to make their consecration, who each set 3 more hearts on fire to make their consecration and before you know it Mary and the Holy Spirit have set the world ablaze with love of Jesus Christ. St. Maximilian Kolbe wanted to give not just glory to God but the greatest glory to God. He desired to do this by getting the whole world to give God the greatest glory through Mary. He called it the Militia Immaculata. The next Marian feast day is July 16, Our Lady of Mt. Carmel. Care to join St. Maximilian Kolbe in giving the greatest glory to God? Let Mary help you recognize the Shepherd’s voice.

Our Lady of Fatima, pray for us!

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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 ignitedinchristnacc.com.

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Do You Know The Shepherd?

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I recently returned from a trip to Ireland. It was a wonderful trip up the East coast of the country, across the top and back down the West coast. Our tour started in Belfast and ended in Dublin. If you have been to Ireland, you know how beautiful it is. If you haven’t, it must be on your bucket list. It was on mine, and it has been checked off.

While driving through the countryside, I couldn’t get enough of the black-faced sheep in Northern Ireland. The fields were full of the herds, everywhere. It was early spring, so many lambs were also in the fields, almost swallowed up by the long, lush green grassy fields. They were adorable. So much so that I purchased a stuffed black-faced lamb for my cat. I placed it in her bed. She ignores it. I, on the other hand, get great pleasure just looking at it looking back at me. It often takes very little to make my heart happy.

Many thoughts of the Gospel of the Good Shepherd came to mind while enjoying this trip. I asked myself what makes a shepherd good? We so glibly slide those words from our mouths: “I know my sheep, and they know me.” How often have you thought about what it means to be the Good Shepherd? In another life, when I was teaching RCIA, every once in a while I would hear someone say “I’m not a sheep! I don’t blindly follow someone, and therefore I can’t get close to this image of Christ”.  Well, let’s look at just what it meant to be the shepherd.

In the time of Christ, as in all of the ancient times, sheep were one of the main, vital economic forces of the economy of the tribes. Sheep provided milk, food, clothing; sheep were used to barter for other goods and even became a dowery of sorts for the daughters of the tribesmen. You marry my daughter, I’ll give you so many sheep to start your flock! If you give me so many sheep, I’ll marry your daughter. Better than a bank loan. But here’s the important part, the responsibility of the shepherd to protect that all-important flock.

When Jesus says “I am the Good Shepherd” it means he watches closely and protects his people, you and me. When the shepherd, as well as the Good Shepherd,  says he is the sheep gate, it means that the shepherd will herd his flock into an enclosure and lay in the opening as the human gate. The sheep don’t leave, and no danger can enter without a fight from the shepherd. Jesus says “I know my sheep and my sheep know me.”  Through our prayer and continued oneness with our Lord, we know him and will come to rely on him the same way the sheep rely on the shepherd. We are no longer alone and won’t be abandoned. There is nothing a good shepherd will not do for his flock. The shepherd will die for his flock as Christ died for us to bring us into grace and eventually to heaven. The life of a shepherd is not an easy one.

One of my favorite pictures of Christ as the Good Shepherd is a pencil drawing of him cuddling a lamb. You can see it HERE. I love that you can’t see Jesus’ entire face and that the lamb is looking so loved and protected, so safe and content. How often have you, as I have, wished you could be held and loved that way? As I get older, it becomes quite often. This longing has become my hope for heaven and its peace. And take note of the nail wound in Christ’s hand. This is our Savior after his death and rising, still protecting, still loving us. The life of this Shepherd was not an easy one.

When you are reminded of today’s Gospel words: “My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish”, recall what it means to be loved and protected by this Shepherd of shepherds, and find your peace.

God Bless.

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Jeanne Penoyar, an Accounts Manager here at Diocesan, is currently a Lector at St. Anthony of Padua parish in Grand Rapids, MI. While at St. Thomas the Apostle, Grand Rapids, Jeanne was a Lector, Cantor, Coordinator of Special Liturgies, Coordinator of lectors and, at one time, chair of the Liturgy Commission. In a past life, secretary/bookkeeper at the Basilica of St. Adalbert where she ran the RCIA program for the Steepletown parishes. And she loves to write! When relaxing, she likes reading and word puzzles. You can contact her at jpenoyar@diocesan.com.

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Does this Shock You?

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In today’s Gospel, we hear Jesus giving one of the hardest teachings in the bible. He is explaining the teaching of the Eucharist, that bread and wine really are turned into his body and blood. When the disciples try to understand this with human reasoning, they fall short. They can’t understand what Jesus is telling them. And then Jesus says these important words, “Does this shock you?”

I think this is so beautiful. Whenever we are met with misunderstanding or confusion it’s typically because we have human reasoning. This can get us pretty far, but the inner truths of God cannot be fully explained by human reason alone, we have to ask for the supernatural virtue of faith.

Now faith doesn’t mean just blindly following things we cannot understand. Faith and reason are interconnected, but when we have doubts or struggles with a teaching of the church, or with the church in general, we must ask God to enlighten our intellect to be able to see that which is not obvious to the human person.

If the disciples in the Gospel had asked for this grace they would have seen with new eyes and not left Jesus and returned to their old ways. Even the apostles struggled with this, but their response was different. Even though the supernatural mysteries of God confused them, they said, “Where else would we go?”

When problems arise in the Church, when human beings seem to try to take us down, when moral teachings are difficult to live, we need to ask for faith. One of the main areas to receive this grace is through the Eucharist. This teaching that was so hard for the early disciples to believe is the very teaching that gives us the grace to believe it.

The Eucharist is the source of our faith because it is Jesus’ love active here on this earth. Next time you have a doubt or concern or problem with something in the Church, go to the Eucharist and rest in his love. It is the Eucharist that allows us to say, “Where else would we go?”

Here is one of my favorite songs, that explains how Peter denied Jesus and doubted his love. Let us all pray that when we are put to the test we are able to believe through the supernatural gift of faith.

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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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Encountering the Risen Lord

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I embarrassingly just did a happy dance in my chair as I write this blog publically in my local coffee shop. Why am I embarrassing myself? Because today’s readings are epic and I am SO excited to reflect on them with you. The First Reading tells the conversion of one of my favorite saints, St. Paul. Formerly known as Saul, a Roman who sought the destruction and death of all Christians. If you don’t know the details of this story, I encourage you to read them (Acts 9: 1-20). Saul was a murderer. He was seeking out the disciples of the Lord and on the way to Damascus when his whole life changed and would never be the same again.

What happened? He encountered the risen Lord, Jesus Christ. He saw a bright light, was thrown off his horse and was called by name. He was called by name and called out in love, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” The voice of Jesus is proclaiming a cry of unity.  When we harm one another, we harm the Body of Christ, the Church. After this, Saul could no longer see. It says that for three days he was unable to see and he did not eat or drink anything. It’s common to focus on the moment of conversation between him and Jesus, but can you imagine how distraught he must have been in those three days?

I recently had my youth group students pair up for a blindfolded relay race. It was comical, to say the least. We shared about it in small group and the children shared how insanely scary and difficult it was to “lose their sight”. They said they have new compassion for those who are physically blind. They only played that game for ten minutes, knowing the blindfold would be taken off at the end. I’m sure if I were in St. Paul’s shoes, I probably would not be able to eat or drink anything either. I would be distraught not knowing if this blindness would heal.

God, in His goodness, sends His disciple Ananias to Saul. God tells Ananias that “this man is a chosen instrument of mine to carry my name before Gentiles, kinds, and children of Israel.” Ananias was probably thinking, “Really?! This man who has murdered believers?!” Or maybe that’s just me! When Ananias went to Saul, he laid hands on him. In this moment of receiving the Holy Spirit, Saul was healed of his blindness. He could see and “got up and was baptized, and when he had eaten, he recovered his strength.”

I love the story of St. Paul. I love that he was extremely sinful, with one of the gravest sins- taking another’s life. I’ve encountered so many people in my life who joke that they cannot go to Church because they’ll “burst into flames”. I tend to laugh at them, in a kind manner. If only they knew that one of the most important leaders of the Church was once murdering Christians. What does God teach us with the witness of St. Paul? No human is ever too far gone. No person is too lost or too deep into sin that God cannot change their heart and use them for the glory of His Kingdom.

We read in the Gospel story today the beautiful Scripture of Jesus proclaiming the truth of the Eucharist. No, the bread and wine are not symbols of Jesus’ body and blood. They are literally the Flesh and Blood of the Son of Man. He tells us that whoever eats and drinks of His Body and Blood will not perish, but have life within. “Whoever eats my Flesh and drinks my Blood remains in me and I in him.” When I think of St. Paul and his 3 days of distress, he did not eat. When He was healed through the Holy Spirit, he ate and regained his strength. God gives us an incredible gift. He gives us spiritual food that will regain our strength. Are we truly embracing this gift?! I know when I feel spiritually or emotionally down, I tend to hide from God. I tend to not eat the gifts given to. I tend to only go to Sunday Mass, instead of receiving the Eucharist more frequently. If we truly believe that this is Flesh and Blood of Jesus, how can we not crave to be at Mass more than once a week? If you are feeling weak, starving, or in distress- do not stay unfed. He offers us the Bread of Life, which gives an abundance of grace. My challenge for you & myself is to receive the Eucharist more than you are now. If you’re a daily Mass goer, keep it up. If you only go to Mass on Sundays, if you can add one Mass into your weekly schedule- do it! Let’s remain in Him and Him in us, let us strive to receive the Eucharist with open hearts. It is here that we, like St. Paul, encounter the Risen Lord.

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Briana is a Catholic youth minister at Our Lady of Mt. Carmel parish in Cleveland, OH. She is also a nanny and 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 bring her students closer to Christ and His Church. “My soul has been refined and I can raise my head like a flower after a storm.” -St. Therese

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They Shall all be Taught by God

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The readings today have a common theme: teaching. It is also teacher appreciation week in the United States (world teacher’s day is October 5th). Coincidence or work of the Holy Spirit?

My life has been filled with many teachers: Mrs. Bonasi, Mr. Furman, Ms. Moceri, Mr. Barton, Mrs. Lienweber, Mrs. Domke, Mrs. Childers, and Mr. Jacoby to name a few. My education, however, began with my parents. I have a strong faith life because of the model from my parents and grandparents. Their lessons have been reinforced, and new ones learned, from all sorts of people I’ve encountered–teachers and catechists, family and friends, mentors and foes. Some lessons are easier than others, but all contribute to who we are.

We find in the first reading the apostle Philip being prompted by an angel to walk a specific road out of Jerusalem. He sees a chariot passing by. Philip, encouraged by the Holy Spirit, asks the passenger if he understands what is reading. The reply, “How can I, unless someone instructs me? Then Philip opened his mouth and, …he proclaimed Jesus to him.” He listened and learned from Philip. He had Philip baptize him. He continued on his way rejoicing in the Lord.

Can you recall a time when you had the fire and love of God enkindled in your heart that you too were rejoicing in the Lord? Was there someone, a song, or a moment that touched your soul? When I experience any of these times, I am usually compelled to reach out to someone I love and trust. Many rejoice with me as believers in the eternal life taught by God through Jesus his Son, the bread of life. The reaction that I receive, however, is not always what I expect.

Not all who I’ve trusted have listened and learned from the teachings of God. I’m encouraged when this happens though by the words of Pope Francis. “Teaching is a beautiful job; as it allows you to see the growth day by day of people entrusted to your care. It is a little like being parents, at least spiritually. It is a great responsibility.”

Each of us is called to be a teacher of the Word. The Catechism of the Catholic Church states this as part of our baptismal covenant. Each is to be a witness of the love outpoured for us on the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.

As we continue in this Easter season let us rejoice and be thankful for those who teach us in His ways and in our shared faith.

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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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Food for the Journey

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In today’s gospel reading, Jesus continues his bread of life discourse where he tells his followers that without the bread of life he speaks of, we have no life. Jesus promises that those who take the bread will never be hungry, and those who believe in him will never thirst.

So often we make promises that we can’t keep. As a kid, I promised my mom that I would make my bed every morning, but as an adult, I’m shocked if my bed is made more than twice a week. But we can look at the promises of Christ and understand that when he makes a promise, he always keeps it.

But wait. If Jesus promises I’ll never go hungry again, why does my stomach growl and mouth water every time I drive past a Chipotle?

Jesus, of course, is not talking about literal, bodily hunger. He is talking about hunger and thirst for a full life in him. He is talking about the Eucharist, which is food for our journey.

When the Israelites wandered the desert during the Exodus, they complained to God and longed to go back to Egypt where they were enslaved and in chains. But God delivered Manna, bread from heaven, for them to eat every day until they stepped foot in the promised land.

This bread nourished them and gave them life. It fed the mouths of hungry children and gave them sustenance for the journey.

Similarly, the Eucharist gives us life. Christ literally fills us with himself, giving us nutrients, energy, and strength until we are ready to enter the promised land of Heaven. The Eucharist allows us to be strong in our resilience against a culture of death that wishes to enslave us. Without it, our faith in him dies.

It’s why we consume it during every mass. It’s why we should attend mass every Sunday.

So next time you prepare to receive Christ in the form of the Eucharist, be intentional about your “Amen” as you accept him into your body. Think of the Israelites as they woke up each morning to find new manna ready to feed them and thank the Lord for your escape from captivity and eventual reward in heaven.

Hannah Crites is a native to Denver Colorado and graduate of the 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/.