In the Line of Melchizedek

Melchizedek. I admit that I signed up for this day so I could learn more about Melchizedek. It’s a technique I’ve been using since college. It forces me to learn new things and go out of my way to (hopefully) see things in a different light or achieve a shift in my focus and thought process. Friends and family insist I need to do this more frequently, as they find me a bit eccentric, but I correct them with eclectic, and we all laugh.

The first reading and the psalm speak of the order or in the line of Melchizedek. Melchizedek first appears in the bible in the book of Genesis (ch 14). It is the first time that someone is referred to as a priest of God Most High and the King of Peace (Salem or Shalom).

While researching, I found a really fascinating talk given by Dr. Scott Hahn that breaks this open. Melchizedek means righteous king in Hebrew. The King of Righteousness, the King of Shalom (peace). Does this ring any bells for you? It’s hard to miss these titles of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Now, let’s hold onto this thought and dive into today’s Gospel.

Today, we find Jesus and the man with the crippled hand. People are all around Jesus, wondering if he will cure on the Sabbath if he will ‘work’ on this holy day. If he does, Jesus is seen as a lawbreaker, which triggers the Pharisees search for a permanent way to silence his ‘heresy’.

Jesus is the first priest of the Catholic Church. Our priests today are all priests in the line of Melchizedek. Jesus is Divine and all knowing. He asked while on the cross for his Father to forgive, for we do not know what we do. Our priests are human and learn through trial and error as each of us does. We humans can learn from divine inspiration, the wisdom of others, through study, and experience. We each have the opportunity to invite others to learn of God’s love and forgiveness as well as experience it ourselves.

God’s love and forgiveness are available to each and every one of us. His love is unconditional. His forgiveness, grace, and mercy are too, however, we have to ask for it. Our priests through the grace and wisdom of the sacrament of Holy Orders they received when ordained are anointed to minister to all those on earth, not just a select few. The line of Melchizedek is continued on today in each of these men. Let us pray today for our priests with these words from Pope Benedict XVI:

Lord Jesus Christ, eternal High Priest, you offered yourself to the Father on the altar of the cross and through the outpouring of the Holy Spirit gave your priestly people a share in your redeeming sacrifice. Hear our prayer for the sanctification of our priests. Grant that all who are ordained to the ministerial priesthood may be ever more conformed to you, the Divine Master. May they preach the Gospel with pure heart and clear conscience. Let them be shepherds according to your own heart, single-minded in service to you and to the Church, and shining examples of a holy, simple, and joyful life. Through the prayers of the Blessed Virgin Mary, your Mother and ours, draw all priests and the flocks entrusted to their care to the fullness of eternal life where you live and reign with the Father and the Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever. Amen.


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.


Living and Effective

As I write, I am in the midst of difficulties on both sides of the family. Granted, I come from a large family and my husband’s family has lived through many trials, but sometimes I want to throw up my hands and say “Why can’t we just all get along?!” And then I begin my rant, “Why does so and so have to be that way? Why does he/she have to do that?!…”

When my soul is finally tranquil enough to refocus, I try to consider what their world might be like. What are they living through at this moment? What is the state of their mind and heart? Who has hurt them and how deeply? Am I judging them? Do I consider myself holier than thou?

And once again I realize that the only solace for suffering humanity is our loving God and His holy Word. Here is today’s First Reading:

“The word of God is living and effective,
sharper than any two-edged sword,
penetrating even between soul and spirit,
joints and marrow,
and able to discern reflections and thoughts of the heart.
No creature is concealed from him,
but everything is naked and exposed to the eyes of him
to whom we must render an account.

Since we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens,
Jesus, the Son of God,
let us hold fast to our confession.
For we do not have a high priest
who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses,
but one who has similarly been tested in every way,
yet without sin.
So let us confidently approach the throne of grace
to receive mercy and to find grace for timely help.”

Lord Jesus, YOU are what I need. You penetrate the soul and the spirit. You discern the thoughts of the heart. All that I am is openly exposed to you. You are able to sympathize with all of my predicaments. You have also been tested. So I approach you and beg for your mercy, grace and help.


Tami grew up in Western Michigan, a middle child in a large Catholic family. Attending Catholic schools her whole life, she was an avid sportswoman, a (mostly) straight A student and a totally type A sister. She loves tackling home projects, keeping tabs on the family finances and finding unique ways to love. 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. Her favorite things to do are finding fun ways to keep her four boys occupied, quiet conversation with the hubby, and grocery shopping with a latte in her hand. 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 the past 18 years.


Paralyzed

We are all paralyzed. Not necessarily in the physical sense but mentally, emotionally and spiritually.

 Paralyzed by fear. By tragedy. By anxiety. By overthinking. By addiction. By sin. By Satan. On purpose or by accident, we are paralyzed. And sometimes we are even paralyzed by hope. By joy. By faith. By love.

 Today’s Gospel offers hope for all of us: the healing of the paralytic. Three different aspects of this passage stick out to me.

 One, Jesus was starting to attract so much attention that throngs of people came to hear Him preach, even the religious authorities and scholars who criticized Him. The paralytic couldn’t even get close to Jesus if he tried. Without the help of his friends who opened up the roof and lowered him down to the Lord, the paralytic would not have been healed and forgiven.

 Strong relationships are essential to living the Christian life. Between our families, friends, colleagues, etc., our relationships can either bring us closer to God or tear us away from Him. But relationships run both ways. We ourselves need to be good family members, friends, colleagues, etc. in order to bring others to Jesus through our words, our actions and, most importantly, our love.

 When we are paralyzed, we cannot approach Jesus on our own so we must rely on others to help bring us to Him. Trusting others is hard, especially with the deepest and darkest parts of our lives, those things that paralyze us, but coming to Jesus is always worth it in the end.

 Two, Jesus first forgives the sins of the paralytic. As a result of their faith (the paralytic and his friends), Jesus says, “Child, your sins are forgiven.” Jesus has the power to forgive sins, not just heal which He had been previously doing (see Mark 1:21-45).

 The scribes who were sitting among the crowd, scholars of the Mosaic law who studied Scripture, they knew that no human had the power to forgive sins and so they questioned Jesus’ words in their hearts. They were unaware of His full humanity and divinity. But Jesus knew exactly what they were thinking which led him to…

 Three, Jesus poses a question of “which is easier, to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Rise, pick up your mat and walk’?” After which, He tells the paralytic to do exactly that. Jesus does the harder thing of healing the paralytic to prove that He can do the easier thing of forgiving sins.

 Forgiveness is the cure for paralysis. When we are so paralyzed by fear and sin, we have the opportunity to receive God’s great mercy and forgiveness in the Sacrament of Reconciliation. All we need to do is approach Him, sometimes with the help of others.

 I invite you to name your fears, what is paralyzing you and keeping you from God, and take it to the Lord in Confession. Bask in His love and grace. And when we are paralyzed again, may we remember that freeing feeling we have when we step out of the confessional and use that power and strength to begin the healing process again.


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).


Following the Rules

I am the firstborn of my parents. My mom knew just what she wanted her daughter to be like. I started dance classes when I was three in the hopes that I would become graceful and elegant. I did all of the “right” things and I was raised very conscious of the importance of my being a role model to my siblings for what to do and what not to do. I am a born and raised rule follower.

So it is difficult when I encounter someone like the leper in today’s Gospel, who, after receiving God’s mercy, receives a direct command from Jesus and then does the complete opposite. Jesus shows pity and touches the man, heals him and gives him very clear instructions, “See that you tell no one anything, but go, show yourself to the priest and offer for your cleansing what Moses prescribed.” But what happens? “The man went away and began to publicize the whole matter.” What!?! Didn’t you hear what Jesus told you? How could you not follow this one simple rule?

To top it off, no more is said about the man’s apparent disobedience. Mark continues on to Chapter 2 and the healing of the paralytic. The commentaries I consulted had nothing to say about this portion of the story but it is the part of the story that my well-trained eldest child brain can’t let go.

And when I am really honest with myself, some of my problem is that I am jealous. Not of the obvious things like the direct miracle of his healing, but because the man was so excited he just couldn’t stop talking about Jesus. He may not have followed instructions, but he sure followed the leader. I want that.

I have been so fortunate to not have had any major health issues in my 57 years. I have had the usual bumps and bruises (Sorry, Mom, despite your best efforts, I am neither graceful nor elegant!), bugs and bothers, but nothing that has disrupted the long term trajectory of my life. Yet, there are countless small healings and blessings that have graced my path through life. Times when things could have gone bad and didn’t. Yet, I don’t focus on those things. I fuss when things don’t go the way I think they should, when my way is not The Way. Sometimes I get so busy following the rules, that I neglect to follow my leader. There are times when I need to let go of what I think should be and just revel in the fact that God’s got this. His healing and his blessings come in his time. He has his eye on me. “Even all the hairs on your head are counted. So do not be afraid…” (Matthew 10:30-31)

“He spread the report abroad so that it was impossible for Jesus to enter a town openly. He remained outside in deserted places, and people kept coming to him from everywhere.”

Dear Jesus, Lead me so that my life is such a reflection of you, your healing and joy that when I meet others, they too want to find come and find you.


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.


Memento Mori

It’s one of those thoughts that occur to you when it’s three o’clock in the morning and it feels like you’re the only person in the world who’s awake and everything that is moderately upsetting during the day turns into something Really Scary. You know those nights.

And you know those thoughts, too: you think about death.

It’s been said that death has replaced sex as the taboo subject of our era. Certainly, it feels that way, even within our own community of faith: our Church’s mission is to bring life and love to the world, and talking about death seems inappropriate somehow, even grotesque. The irony, of course, is that what we’re trying to avoid thinking about—dying—is the one human event guaranteed to happen to every one of us.

Today’s first reading addresses death, and our fear of it, with directness: “Since the children share in blood and flesh, Jesus likewise shared in them, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the Devil, and free those who through fear of death have been subject to slavery all their life.”

It’s an intense image: being subject to slavery out of fear of death. Yet death’s hold on us is exactly that—we’re enslaved to fear: the fear of pain, the fear of nothingness, the fear of the unknown. The thought that fifty or a hundred years from now, our name will be forgotten, our life will be unremembered. The knowledge that in the transition moments of death we will be alone, that whatever we’ve accomplished or accumulated during our lives will become meaningless. Those terrible three-o’clock-in-the-morning thoughts.

I’d pretty much call that enslaved, wouldn’t you? Yet it also tells us we’re ignoring the most important part of today’s reading: that Christ has already freed us from that slavery. If we persist in our fear, then the onus is on us—it’s a choice we’ve made. Jesus frees from the fear of death by destroying evil and assuring us we have eternal life beyond death.

So—how do we bridge the gap between our faith and our fear?

One first step might be to put life (and therefore death) in perspective. There’s a story about a young man traveling through the mountains in search of wisdom, and he visits the hut of a famous learned monk. He is disappointed by its austerity. “But where are your books?” he asks. The monk counters, “Where are yours?” The traveler shakes his head. “I don’t have them; I’m just passing through,” he says. “Ah,” responds the monk. “And so am I.”

We are all travelers. Travelers might enjoy the journey, but no matter what adventures happen along the way, the experience takes place with the certainty of eventually arriving at a destination. We can—and should!—enjoy our lives, but keep the perspective that there’s somewhere else we’re going.

The perspective alone isn’t enough: it’s time to start thinking about death, and not at three o’clock in the morning. The wisdom of keeping death always at the forefront of our thoughts has been pointed out by non-Christians: Buddhist Geshe Kelsang writes that “preparing for death is one of the kindest and wisest things we can do both for ourself (sic.) and others,” while the ancient practice of reflection on mortality goes back to Socrates, who said that the proper practice of philosophy is “about nothing else but dying and being dead.” If those who do not have our certainty of eternal life can focus on death so positively, then how much more should we be able to!

The practice in the Roman empire of memento mori—”remember your death”—passed into Christianity and became especially prevalent in the middle ages, when plague and lack of sanitation kept death uppermost in people’s minds. Stories of banquets where skulls were used as mugs might be apocryphal, but the concept of memento mori inspired a whole genre of art and literature that was hugely popular throughout medieval Europe and practically exploded into the Victorian era. And it’s even coming back into usage today.

Christ died to deliver us from fear of death: making the journey from fear to hope is intrinsic to our call as Christians, and it’s a great deal easier if we stop giving death such an influential place in our psyches. It is; that is all. Thinking about it, planning our lives to include it, even following the custom of keeping an imitation skull as a constant reminder—all that strips death of its power and reminds us that, like the traveler, we are only passing through.


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.


Amazed and Astonished by the Power of Christ

Two events happen in today’s Gospel: Jesus astonishes the people of Capernaum with his Sabbath teaching, and then Jesus amazes the people by casting out a demon.

It was customary in a synagogue to invite others to read the Scriptures and comment on them; leaders would welcome a young, promising voice, and Jesus took many opportunities to express the Truth in this way (Take note that in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus never again enters a synagogue after he is rejected in the synagogue at Nazareth in Chapter 6!). What is astonishing is not the fact that Jesus is teaching but that, unlike the scribes, his teaching does not simply repeat traditional and accepted opinions of other rabbinical leaders. It is “new teaching with authority” – Jesus speaks on his own personal authority, a fact which will soon turn the scribes against him.

We do not know what passage Jesus read, or how he commented on it. Mark’s Gospel contains precious little of Jesus’ actual teaching and is focused on the arrival of the Kingdom in the person and authority of Christ, and the astonishment this stirred in those who encountered him. Mark repeatedly shows us that the coming of Christ was altogether astounding, his words and actions unprecedented and challenging to the status quo, his authority, and power noted by all – even the demon who acknowledges him as “the Holy One of God.” Jesus, with authority, tells the unclean spirit literally: “Be muzzled” and orders him to leave the man. And the evil spirit must obey, stirring new amazement through the crowd.

Both of these events give evidence of the power and authority of Jesus, and the widespread attention he drew. People heard him teach and saw him healing and overcoming demons and were amazed and astonished.

In a world that seems to take everything for granted (even the Gospel) and that undervalues vulnerability, openness, and wonder, we should examine our own hearts:

Do we really believe in the transforming power of Christ in every facet of our being?

Are we truly open to the God of surprises, opening ourselves fully to a sincere encounter with the living God?

Are we still capable of wonder and amazement at the peaceful presence of God in each moment?

Are we able to celebrate the bright moments of grace in our lives and in the lives of others?

Let’s all ask for the great gift of recognizing and marveling at the mighty power and authority of Christ, which can be found everywhere we turn: in the sky and the sea, in the hearts of those we encounter, in the seed and bloom and fruit of the earth, and in every tabernacle that holds the very Presence of God in the Eucharist.


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.


Drop Your (Safety) Nets

On All Saints Day of 2013, I dropped my (safety) nets and followed Jesus. I’ve heard the stories of Jesus calling the apostles and they sound even more strange as an adult.

“Are they brave or insane?”

Those are pretty much the only two options when we consider the story of the apostles leaving their income to follow Jesus.

My (safety) net was higher education. It was on November 1st that I left college as a junior to pursue music with my band. Our culture lauds higher education as the magic bullet that will ensure you have a more prosperous and opportune life… so it was pretty difficult to discern if God was, in fact, calling me to leave school.

“Only a real risk tests the reality of belief” -C.S. Lewis

I sacrificed the promise that higher education had to offer. I risked going without that extra support for my future. But it is no exaggeration that my life has been the most interesting adventure ever since that day.

God provides.

My band found many opportunities to share our music and testimonies, reaching further than we ever have before. I have found a meaningful work in my community to which I can lend my gifts and strengths.

One of my biggest uncertainties about leaving school was wondering if I’d be capable of being some sort of provider for my future spouse. In God’s perfect Divine Irony, He led me to court an old classmate from college. She finished school. But she doesn’t resent that I didn’t.

God is so good.

Drop your (safety) nets.

You won’t know until you take the risk just how good it is on the other side.


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.


He must increase; I must decrease

“The truly humble reject all praise for themselves and refer it all to God.” -St. Alphonsus Maria de Liguori

In today’s readings, we receive a lesson about humility. In 1 John we are told that we must have confidence in God and His grace. We should not fall into thinking that our sin is too great for God to forgive. Rather, we must submit ourselves to His love and to His power for “we are in the one that is true”. Although the “whole world is under the power of the Evil One”, we belong to God and God is within us, therefore we have the capacity to guard ourselves against the Evil One and live our lives humbly with Christ and His Church. Our confidence is rooted in Christ and His plan for our salvation.

In the Gospel, we once again encounter John the Baptist and he delivers perhaps his most famous line: “He must increase; I must decrease”. When one of John’s disciples approaches him asking about Jesus and his disciplines baptizing people, John’s response, without fear or hesitation, is to praise Jesus. He does so in three ways. First, he tells his disciple that “No one can receive anything unless it is from Heaven” thereby telling the disciple that Jesus’ gifts come from Heaven and are Good. Second, he reminds the disciple that he (John) is not the Christ but that his role is as the precursor to the Christ. Third, he calls Jesus the bridegroom communicating the relationship between Christ and His people with Christ as the bridegroom and the Church as His bride. John the Baptist fulfills His role as the precursor to Christ in teaching us to turn all praise we are given toward the One who made us.

“He must increase; I must decrease” — one of the most important messages of the Gospel summed up in only 6 words. John humbles himself before Christ so that Christ may be exalted before all mankind. May we do the same in our every day lives.


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.


Touched by the Messiah

This Thanksgiving, I was at my grandmother’s house with 12 other members when my family and my little sister arrived and announced that she had pink eye. We were cautioned to make sure we constantly washed our hands and not touch our eyes because pink eye is very contagious.

She had a spot at the end of the table where she was less likely to spread. In the days after Thanksgiving, I was paranoid, waiting for symptoms to appear.

I was thinking about this as I reflected on today’s gospel.

In this reading, our central figure next to Christ is one of the most dejected members of biblical times, lepers. Life for lepers was hard. It’s a highly contagious disease with no cure, is terribly painful, and they were completely isolated.

Lepers had to live outside of town and announce themselves as “Unclean!” if anyone approached them (Lev. 13:45). They were banned from temple worship and they were despised by society, condemned to a life of solitude and loneliness.

It makes pink eye look like a walk in the park.

Despite this, the leper in today’s gospel approached Jesus with radical faith, calling him Lord, and asking him to make him clean. He recognized Christ as a healer and had the eyes of faith to know that the Lord could make him clean and transform his life. The leper put himself at incredible risk to do this. He could have been further ridiculed, he could have gotten in trouble with the law for approaching Christ. But he did it anyway.

And Jesus touched the man. This would have shocked the leper, the disciples, the crowd, the people of the town, and the rabbis and priests who adhered strictly to Mosaic Law. He reached with compassion into this man’s darkness and uncleanliness and touched him. That leper probably had not been touched in years, but it was Christ that broke the cycle and made him clean.

What Jesus does in today’s reading is not for the sake of his glory, but for the sake of the man, his beloved child whom he wanted to alleviate suffering from. He does it purely out of love for the man.

The leper was healed for two reasons: because of his incredible faith in Christ and because of Christ’s merciful love for him. In his story, we are reminded to have a strong faith in him and to be unafraid to break the barriers that keep us from serving those in need, especially the marginalized, the sick, and the poor.


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/.


The Eternal Light of Hope

In today’s Gospel, we have Jesus reading the Isaiah scroll in the synagogue. He finishes and boldly proclaims that he is the fulfillment of this passage. It is amazing enough that anyone remained to listen to him after that. But the Gospel goes on to say that all were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. Did you ever wonder: what were those gracious words? This recounting does not tell us. It only goes on to say that some remarked that he was the son of a carpenter, a lowly workman. But Jesus tells them that the passage is speaking of him, and all should take notice.

I thought long and hard at what these words may mean for us today, in light of our Christian Faith. Well, I’ve concluded that they are proclaiming to us the eternal light of Hope.

Can you put yourself into this passage? Are you one of the poor awaiting some glad tidings? Not just money/possession poor. Are you, perhaps, poor in faith or good works? Poor in compassion and empathy or meaning in life? Will you allow yourself to hear the glad tidings?

Are you one of the captives? Not just captivity of imprisonment, but captive to addiction, sin, lust, greed or any of the great sins. Will you allow yourself to be set free?

Are you one of the blind? Not physically blind, but blind to the need around you. Will you allow yourself to see?

Or are you one of the oppressed? Oppressed by your struggles, a bad marriage or trapped in self-centeredness. Will you allow yourself to be free of such oppression?

The Lord is proclaiming a year acceptable to the Lord. This “year” is your life, as long as it may be. And you are called to be set free of the bonds of this world, and to be steeped in the love of the Lord and his Hope for your life. Then, once you have let the Lord set you free, you become the anointed one who will bring the glad tidings, proclaim liberty, recover the sight of others and let the oppressed free. Do you see who these folks are? Can you empathize with the plight of those still struggling? You can help them.  Even in the midst of your journey to this freedom in hope, you can extend your help to others.

God’s Son is the vessel of Hope we all need for this world to be free of all that oppresses it. Hold out your hands, take His, and see the miracle of the glow of Hope that will surround you. Jesus will not let you down if your heart is open.

God Bless.


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.


Satisfaction

Whether the soundtrack of your life spins the Rolling Stones’ classic “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” or Devo’s more agitated version of the song some 15 years later, one thing is clear: If we place our hope and trust in anything or anyone other than Jesus Christ, we’ll never know true satisfaction, peace or contentment.

In today’s Gospel (Mark 6:45-52), the Evangelist describes the aftermath of Jesus’ miraculous feeding of the 5,000. He says that after they had eaten, they “were satisfied.” But were they really? Their stomachs may have been full, but as we all know, hunger will kick in in a few hours. We’ll need more fish and bread, more channel surfing, more Internet searching, more restless pursuits.

But what can we feed on to find true satisfaction? Consider: The 5,000 had just heard Jesus’ preaching. Wouldn’t that be enough for us and them to chew on for a while? They had just seen Jesus transform five loaves and two fish into enough to feed them, with some left over. Wouldn’t that miracle, and all the miracles since then, be enough to fill our speculation and theirs that maybe the man who had just fed them was more than an itinerant rabbi?

And what about us? Mark’s Gospel continues with Jesus leaving the scene and heading off by himself to pray. At his command, the disciples leave, too, and are soon spotted by our Lord trapped in a storm at sea. When Jesus comes to their rescue, walking toward them on the stormy sea, they think he’s a ghost and cry out. He climbs into their boat and all is calm. In other words, he enters our life we are satisfied. We want to hear what Jesus has to say to us. We want to pray to him for help.

It’s true: We’re all pretty powerless to find true satisfaction for ourselves and in ourselves alone. With my hardened heart, as the Stones sang, “I try and I try and I try and I try…” But with the Lord, as our Prayer over the Offering says, I can petition God for “the gift of true prayer and of peace.”


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.


It’ in the Air

One of my favorite phrases to hear is, “Love is in the air.” The reason I love it so much is because of today’s first reading:

“Beloved, let us love one another,
because love is of God;
everyone who loves is begotten by God and knows God.
Whoever is without love does not know God, for God is love.
In this way the love of God was revealed to us:
God sent his only-begotten Son into the world
so that we might have life through him.
In this is love:
not that we have loved God, but that he loved us
and sent his Son as expiation for our sins.”
(1 John 4:7-10)

It’s a short reading, but it’s more than enough to try to take in. I mean,  the fact that God doesn’t “love” us, but just exists and his existence is love?? It hurts my brain a little bit, but I love it!

God is the purest form of love that there is. In fact, we can’t even conceive of love so undoubting, so full, so nonjudgemental, so unending. Can you? I mean, my parents love me with their whole hearts, but you’re telling me that God loves me even MORE? How lucky are we?

Okay, so God loves us more than anyone else and we can’t even compare it. Now, go a step further and try to understand that not only is God love, but anyone that loves inherently knows God.

Let me repeat that. Anyone that knows love, knows God.

What does that mean? It means that the person that doesn’t believe in God is literally an embodiment of God when he loves his wife and when he loves his child. It means that pretty much everyone has encountered God in their lives, even if it’s not on a daily basis. So what does that mean for us, as disciples of Christ?

It means that love is in the air and we need to breathe it all in.

God is all around us and in us and we’re sitting here acting like it’s not totally, mind-blowingly awesome!

Today and every day, the choice to live God’s will, his love, is ours. If God is love, then all we need to do is love and we are being ministers of our faith. Simply be kind, and you will spread the Gospel. People will notice. People know God, whether they are Christian or not because he is already a part of their lives and of their existence.

Spread love – spread God – through your actions

Looking to read something about the miracle of the Multiplication of the Loaves and Fishes? Click here!


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.