Posted on

Dinner with Christ

Click here for daily readings

In today’s Gospel, we read that the Pharisees questioned why Jesus sat for a meal with tax collectors and sinners. Jesus responded: “Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do. Go and learn the meaning of the words, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ I did not come to call the righteous but sinners.” 

Jesus’ words should be a huge relief to us, for we are all sinners. We all need the salvation that He came here to offer us. 

And through the Sacrament of Reconciliation, we can be absolved of our sins. We can tell God we’re sorry. And we can promise to try to sin no more.

Yet He knows we will sin again. And invariably we do. So we pick ourselves up and try again. That’s all He asks—that we keep working at following His laws and becoming closer to Him.

And sometimes we envy those who got to sit at the table with Him, who had the chance to talk with Him, who heard His voice, and who listened to His stories. Maybe we even think: If only I could sit down to dinner with Christ, how much different my life would be.

But we can! We can sit down to dinner with Christ every day in the celebration of the Mass. At Mass, we listen to His word. We sit in His presence. We sing hymns of praise. We pray and tell Him we love Him. And, if we are free of mortal sin, we can eat of His flesh and drink of His blood.

There is nothing more amazing than that!

As Catholics, we are so incredibly blessed to be able to partake in the Eucharist, for the Eucharist really is the body, blood, soul, and divinity of Christ. 

What a gift!

If we truly contemplate this miracle, we would be running to the confessional then skipping to church so we could receive Communion. 

But even once we’re there in Mass, we find ourselves getting distracted. Maybe the music is of poor quality. Maybe people are making noise. Maybe we can’t hear the homily. So our minds begin to wander away from the table and away from Christ. We are no longer eating with Him but drifting aimlessly and alone.  

It is at these times that we need Him the most. 

When this happens, ask Him to draw you back to the table. Tell Him how much you love being with Him. 

And as you think about that meal where He spoke to the Pharisees, understand that he was talking about you. 

He came here for you. He came here for me. We are the sinners He died for. Let us never forget that.

Contact the author

Susan Ciancio has a BA in psychology and a BA in sociology from the University of Notre Dame, with an MA in liberal studies from Indiana University. For the past 17 years, she has worked as a professional editor and writer, editing both fiction and nonfiction books, magazine articles, blogs, educational lessons, professional materials and website content. Eleven of those years have been in the pro-life sector. Currently Susan freelances and writes weekly for HLI, edits for American Life League, and is the editor of Celebrate Life Magazine. She also serves as executive editor for the Culture of Life Studies Program-an educational nonprofit program for K-12 students.

Feature Image Credit: Exe Lobaiza, https://www.cathopic.com/photo/7504-aqui-esta-pan-verdadero

Posted on

A Question You Should Never Ask

Click here for daily readings

The Pharisees saw Jesus eating with the tax collectors and sinners in Matthew’s house, in the house of the man Jesus had chosen, called, loved, and they asked the question, “Why is Jesus interested in these people?”

We can imagine Jesus enjoying himself at this dinner party thrown by his newest disciple. Sharing food, listening intently to the stories of the friends of his who would become part of his inner circle of twelve closest followers, observing them, gazing deep into their hearts and souls, longing to see them whole, happy, at peace, flourishing in goodness and truth. 

Those who were getting to know this new rabbi who actually shared his time with them, got close to them, was part of their world, felt no condemnation as they laughed with him, and listened, and told him their stories. As their fear wore off under the warmth of his acceptance of them, his desire to befriend them, they experienced their souls opening in new and surprising ways. Perhaps they experience the beauty and satisfaction of goodness. It was so fulfilling, ran so strong and deep, who knows how many of them left that dinner at least wondering if not absolutely determined to be more their better selves.

What sunshine does to flowers, but infinitely more so, the merciful gaze of the Master accomplishes in hearts that have been isolated in the shadows and cold. They burst forth with new life, color, vibrant beauty.

Matthew and his tax-collecting friends were outcasts from their Jewish brethren… ever been there?

They were looked down upon, labelled by those who were considered righteous… ring a bell?

They lived in a sub-culture closed in on itself, not expecting God to be interested in them as of any value… have you ever felt that way?

We know these men made many mistakes. They cheated their neighbors and friends. They worked for the oppressor. They looked out for themselves. When Jesus, however, invited himself into their circle by proposing dinner at Matthew’s house, his presence brought them joy, drew them in to the love he shared with his Father, shattered the labels they had accepted for themselves. 

This dinner party baffled the Pharisees who were meticulous about keeping the smallest of religious rules. At times we may find ourselves warmed by the accepting mercy of Jesus, grateful that his love shields us from the cutting condemnation of others. We could perhaps recognize ourselves in the Pharisees who can’t accept the fact that the non-compliant are the favored ones, the sinners are the ones cherished for the sake of healing and wholeness. But in either case we should never ask the questions:

Why is the Lord interested in me?

Why is the Lord interested in that person or group?

Jesus wants us ever to know that he is interested in us, each of us, all of us, no matter where our heart has led us astray. If the Pharisees had sat down at the table, wanting to be included among the “sinners” for whom Jesus came, his face would have shown on their sad and languishing hearts also. 

So join him at his table, enjoy the feast, share with him your story, be filled with the radiance of his happiness as he looks at you with such love.

Contact the author

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

Feature Image Credit: Yandry Fernández Perdomo,  yandryfernandez_cuba-1564859204708-cathopic.jpg

Posted on

The Lord Hears Our Cries

Click here for daily readings

The First Reading and the Responsorial Psalm tie in really well together today. In the First Reading, we hear the story of Hagar and her son Ishmael, the son of Abraham. In this story, Abraham sends the two away with just some water and bread. They wander in the wilderness and soon have eaten the bread and drunk the water. Despair sets in. 

Hopeless and fearing that her son will die, Hagar sits down and cries. But then an angel of God speaks to her, telling her that God has heard the boy’s cries and that He will protect him. She opens her eyes to find a well of water. 

Then, in the Responsorial Psalm, we hear that “the Lord hears the cry of the poor.” 

These words and this story should buoy us, for they are meant to give courage and hope.

Yet, life is often difficult or full of loss. That loss may be of a friend or family member, of a child, of a spouse, or of an ability. We cry and wonder why these things happen. We pray. We beg God to help us. Sometimes we may even think that He isn’t listening. Or if He’s listening, He doesn’t care. And just like Hagar, we can easily fall into despair.

But destructive thoughts like these are surely the work of the devil, for he wants us to wallow, to curse God, and to feel angry. That’s how he wins us over. He fills us with such resentment and such misery that we push God away. We begin to doubt His love. And the devil smiles.

However, these verses from the Bible—indeed, the whole Bible itself—prove God’s love and compassion for us. He wants us to know that He hears our prayers and our cries. He wants us to know that He’s always listening and paying attention. And He wants us to understand that we matter to Him. 

God knows our whole story—our beginning, our middle, and our end. We are not privy to the end. So we must learn to have faith and to follow Him even when we don’t understand, trusting that He surely walks with us during our times of despair. It is during these times that we need God the most. It is during these times that we cannot give up. And it is during these times that we must pray unceasingly.

God gave Hagar and Ishmael a literal well of water to quench their thirst and to save their lives. He gave us His Son. And it is from that well that we must learn to drink, for it is that well that will save us.

Contact the author

Susan Ciancio has a BA in psychology and a BA in sociology from the University of Notre Dame, with an MA in liberal studies from Indiana University. For the past 17 years, she has worked as a professional editor and writer, editing both fiction and nonfiction books, magazine articles, blogs, educational lessons, professional materials and website content. Eleven of those years have been in the pro-life sector. Currently Susan freelances and writes weekly for HLI, edits for American Life League, and is the editor of Celebrate Life Magazine. She also serves as executive editor for the Culture of Life Studies Program-an educational nonprofit program for K-12 students.

Feature Image Credit: Fray Foto, https://www.cathopic.com/photo/11861-siguiendo-pasos-maestro

Posted on

Noble and Holy Joy

Click here for daily readings

Today we celebrate the solemnity of Sts. Peter and Paul. We celebrate them together because of their leadership in the early Church and the foundation they set for the Church as we know it today. As the opening prayer at Mass says today, Peter and Paul are examples of noble and holy joy. 

In the Gospel today, we hear Peter’s confession of faith in the divinity of Christ. He says, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Jesus affirms the faith of Peter by telling him, “…you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it.” Even after this, though, Peter denies Christ three times as Christ is suffering in order to redeem us from our sins (Matthew 27:69-75). Peter, although imperfect in his faith, is still of the foundation upon which the Church is built because he repented and then continued to follow Christ. The First Reading from Acts of the Apostles recounts Peter’s time as a prisoner under the rule of Herod and we hear that he is rescued by an angel. The Responsorial Psalm then reminds us that, “The angel of the Lord will rescue those who fear him.” During his imprisonment, Peter took refuge in the Lord and by his faith was saved. 

In the Second Reading, we hear St. Paul’s own words as he writes to Timothy. Paul, knowing the imminence of his martyrdom writes, “I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith.” Despite being perhaps only mere days away from his martyrdom, Paul’s tone is one of joy and hope in the Lord. He acknowledges that the work he has put into evangelizing the Gentiles was not done by his own merit, but only through His faith in the Lord. Paul knows that his martyrdom, along with his life, will serve as a witness to others and in that he finds true joy and hope. 

The solemnity of Sts. Peter and Paul reminds us that God calls the imperfect to do His will. It is by the faith of those who willingly conform their will to His that the Church exists and that more people continue to come to the faith. 

May we be imitators of the noble and holy joy of Sts. Peter and Paul. May we strive to have the faith of martyrs and live our lives with faith in Christ.

Contact the author

Dakota currently lives in Denver, CO and teaches English Language Development and Spanish to high schoolers. She is married to the love of her life, Ralph. In her spare time, she reads, goes to breweries, and watches baseball. Dakota’s favorite saints are St. John Paul II (how could it not be?) and St. José Luis Sánchez del Río. She is passionate about her faith and considers herself blessed at any opportunity to share that faith with others. Check out more of her writing at https://dakotaleonard16.blogspot.com.

Feature Image Credit: falco, 5412 images, https://pixabay.com/photos/barcelona-cathedral-spain-4298069/

Posted on

A Greater Calling

Click here for daily reading

Today we see the gravity of following Christ. In the center of our readings, we are reminded of the beauty of our call, a call to remain in the presence of the kind and merciful Lord. In the surrounding readings, God points out both the consequences of abandoning Him and the implications of following Him.

At face value, our passage from Genesis 18 concerns the great mercy of God — this is correct, of course, and our Psalm confirms it. However, we need to remember the larger context. Sodom and Gomorrah were known for their depravity, specifically the sin of sodomy. Though God shows His great kindness in condescending to Abraham and informing him of His plans, He still executes judgment on the people of the two cities. Their grave sin does not go unnoticed.

By contrast, the Lord makes clear that He would have spared the city if only ten righteous persons were found within it. He takes the opportunity to worn Lot and send His angels ahead to protect the family. But because only Lot and his family are righteous, the city is destroyed. God shows mercy to the righteous, but His judgment comes for those who repeatedly ignore His pleas.

This helps us place the other accounts of judgment throughout the Old Testament into perspective. The way God acts in response to grave sin may seem excessive, especially when we consider the manner of death — slaying, earthquake, stoning, and the like. Seen in light of Sodom and Gomorrah, though, we can see that God would never go to such lengths for those who would return to Him, called the “righteous” in our First Reading. Destruction of cities and other grave punishments are reserved for truly wayward sinners.

On the flipside of God’s stark justice, we see His great mercy. He is willing to spare the city for ten righteous, and ultimately He is ready to call all into the New Covenant in Christ. When we come to our Gospel, we see the glory of this call. All manner of people come to Jesus to follow Him, but He is no ordinary rabbi. His ministry demands sacrifice and dedication.

To the scribe, He says that following Him will mean homelessness. To the other disciple, He implies that discipleship means letting go of intimate family ties. The follower of Christ is never at home in this world, and he is ready to choose God over family and friends, if it comes to that.

Combined with our First Reading, this may seem like a bleak image. Turn away from God, and He will judge decisively. Follow God, and He will demand that you sacrifice what you hold dear. Such an image, taken on its own, neglects the fact of Who we are following: the kind and merciful Lord, Who gives us all that we need and more.

Jesus Christ is worth following no matter the sacrifice. We know that we were created to be with the Lord in heaven, and that nothing else will satisfy us. He made us to serve Him, but He made serving Him sweet. It may demand some purification so that we have room to accept Him, and it may mean some conflict with those who do not understand, but the alternative is not glamorous, and the journey is worth the sacrifice. As our Alleluia verse says, “If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.”

Contact the author

David Dashiell is a freelance writer, editor, and proofreader based in the Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania area. His writing has been featured in Crisis Magazine and The Imaginative Conservative, and his editing is done for a variety of publishers, such as Sophia Institute and Scepter. He can be reached at ddashiellwork@gmail.com.

Feature Image Credit: Diego Zamudio, https://www.cathopic.com/photo/23936-sagrado-corazon-jesus-piedra

Posted on

A Leap of Faith

Click here for daily readings

Today’s Gospel is all about faith. Though the “star of the show” of today’s excerpt from Mark is the healing of the Synagogue official’s daughter (and there is much I could say on the subject!), I would like to address the faith of the woman with the hemorrhages. 

In the Gospel, Mark notes three things about the woman that make her situation so desperate: she had visited all the doctors she could have, she had no money (having spent it all on the medicines), and, after twelve years of trying, she was only getting worse. 

Sounds awful, right?

This woman probably has no idea what she is going to do. She’s in great distress, and has thus far found no cure. Even if she had found one, it wasn’t likely that she could pay for it, now that she was bankrupt. 

But she knew about Jesus. She had heard about Him. About His miracles. Though she was out of money, she was not out of faith. “If I but touch his clothes, I shall be cured.” 

She knew. So, she took a shot on the last option open to her: faith in God.And it worked. She was healed of the thing that ailed her most, and her faith was strengthened. 

Oftentimes we, like the woman, go to God as a last resort. We try to have our earthly “medicines” replace a healing that only comes from God. 

It just doesn’t work.

There is no replacement for the healing that comes from God; but just because nothing can take its place doesn’t mean that it’s not accessible. In fact, God’s healing is very accessible. You just have to have the faith to find it.

The woman with the hemorrhages took a leap of faith. After twelve years of failure, I wasn’t surprised if she was wondering if anything, even this, would ever be able to heal her. But she took a dare and placed her faith in God. And it paid off.

Maybe the past year has left a gaping hole in your heart. Maybe you tried to fill it with all sorts of things that just kept slipping through. Maybe you tried to cure it with something that wasn’t medicine, but a mild painkiller that would build up with disastrous results in the future. 

If that is you, that’s okay. I know a healer that never fails, a person who can cure every heartache, every hole, and every single hurt you have ever suffered in your entire life. 

He healed the woman. He can heal you. 

All it takes is a leap of faith. 

Perpetua Phelps is a high school student residing in West Michigan and is the second of four children. Apart from homeschooling, Perpetua enjoys volunteering at her church, attending retreats, studying Latin and French, and reading classics such as Beowulf, The Lord of the Rings, C.S. Lewis’ Space Trilogy, and Mark Twain’s Joan of Arc. She also spends much time writing novels, essays, and poetry for fun and competition. A passionate Tolkien fan, Perpetua is a founding member of a Tolkien podcast.

Feature Image Credit: Angie Menes, https://www.cathopic.com/photo/19091-have-faith

Posted on

I Will Come

Click here for daily readings

In today’s Gospel, we hear those very familiar words of the Centurion. In the previous Gospel, Jesus had just come down from the mountain. After preaching and teaching, he was healing people right and left. It didn’t matter what the afflictions were, Jesus healed them. Then, in today’s Gospel, people were pushing up to him from all sides, wanting his attention and help. Then something very strange happens. A Centurion comes up to him (a Centurion is a very important Roman soldier in charge of 100 men). He said to Jesus, “Lord, my servant is lying at home paralyzed, suffering dreadfully.” Those that were there must have been astounded that a Roman soldier, let alone a centurion, a nonbeliever, would come to Jesus for help! In those times a servant was a kind of lowlife. And here was a soldier asking Jesus to help him. And what was Jesus’ answer?  “I will come and heal him”. The Centurion replied, “Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof; only say the word and my servant will be healed”. Do those words sound familiar? 

Imagine a man of great power humbling himself before Jesus. I was in the business world for 40 plus years. And never saw that kind of humility. With a man of great authority and power, it was usually the opposite. Jesus was touched by this man’s faith! This is an example of Jesus not being present for the healing. The servant was healed by long distance. This event was so profound that the Church fathers incorporated it in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass! 

For me, the keyword in this event is faith. Remember the time Jesus was passing through Nazareth? He cured very few people there, because there was so little faith. He also told us that if we had the faith the size of a mustard seed we could move mountains. Have you ever seen a mustard seed? It is a like a pepper speck. When I first saw it my heart sank. Is this me, I thought? Try looking at a speck of pepper and ask yourself, is my faith greater than this? The Centurion had no church, no sacraments, no devotions or Eucharist to come close to God. Yet he was close, very, very close.

Serving With Joy!

Contact the author

Deacon Dan Schneider is a retired general manager of industrial distributors. He and his wife Vicki recently celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. They are the parents of eight children and twenty-nine grandchildren. He has a degree in Family Life Education from Spring Arbor University. He was ordained a Permanent Deacon in 2002.  He has a passion for working with engaged and married couples and his main ministry has been preparing couples for marriage.

Featured Image Credit: pelau, https://www.cathopic.com/photo/4472-solo-tocando-manto-sere-sanada

Posted on

Jesus

Click here for daily readings

While thankfully not a leprosy sufferer, I have dealt with eczema for many years, including a severe bout on my hands that left them virtually unusable. At their worst, swollen with horrendous peeling, I kept them hidden out of embarrassment. 

Many nights, I lay in bed, tears streaming down my face with the same prayer on my lips, “Lord, if you wish, you can make me clean.” During that time, and even now, when I read today’s Gospel of the leper, my heart stirs with empathy and a strong kinship. 

Unlike the leper, my prayer would take years to be answered, but in God’s perfect timing, and according to his loving will, my hands were eventually, miraculously healed completely.

Like the leper, I knew the healing power found in Jesus. While I longed for physical healing, what I found instead was profound spiritual healing. During the three years of battling this particular eczema flare, I learned some of the most valuable lessons of my life. And, inadvertently, my story too glorified God, as so many people ended up walking alongside me in witnessing my suffering, prayers, and eventual healing. Without intending to, I became a model for humility and trust as I needed to rely on people for basic needs and watched my vanity melt away as my worth tied more closely to my faith than my appearance. 

During this time, I learned the true healing Jesus offered was forgiveness for my sins, that the cleanliness I longed for more than anything was inside my soul. A doctor may help me find healing for my hands;  but only my Lord and Savior can bring healing to my soul. Remarkably the Lord revealed many similarities between the eczema on my hands and the sin on my soul. While doctors offer diets, creams, and medications for my hands, Jesus offers the Sacrament of Reconciliation for my soul. While the medicines took years to work, the sacrament’s grace came instantly and in full healing force!

Other similarities I recognized between battling chronic illness and habitual sin:

 

  1. The root cause cannot always be determined and can lay dormant within somebody for years.
  2. To truly eradicate it, one often needs to investigate deep into oneself to discover the root cause of the issue.
  3. It is often painful, uncomfortable, embarrassing, and can create significant anxiety, and usually, we try to hide it, thinking that it will make it unnoticeable.
  4. To be adequately healed, you need to see a physician, and for each, nothing beats the Divine Physician.
  5. The longer you put it off seeking help for the condition, the more unnecessary suffering you will endure. 

No suffering we endure can match that which Jesus took on for us. As today’s Gospel Acclamation reminds us, “Christ took away our infirmities and bore our diseases.” Jesus does wish to make us all well. Like the leper, before we ask anything, we should also pay Jesus homage. My praises come not for what He will do for me but for the ultimate gift He has already given. 

Contact the author

Allison Gingras works for WINE: Women In the New Evangelization as National WINE Steward of the Virtual Vineyard. She is a Social Media Consultant for the Diocese of Fall River and CatholicMom.com. She is a writer, speaker, and podcaster, who founded ReconciledToYou.com and developed the Stay Connected Journals for Catholic Women (OSV).   

Feature Image Credit: susannp4, https://pixabay.com/photos/drip-yellow-petals-globules-water-1972411/

The views and opinions expressed in the Inspiration Daily blog are solely those of the original authors and contributors. These views and opinions do not necessarily represent those of Diocesan, the Diocesan staff, or other contributors to this blog.

Posted on

Joy in His Presence

Click here for daily readings

John the Baptist was in such anticipation of his relationship with Jesus that he lept within his mother’s womb. 

Today, we celebrate the birth of this man who was so excited about being with Jesus, that he couldn’t even wait to be born before turning cartwheels out of the joy of being close to Jesus. 

This is a man who as an adult lived in the wilderness, wore “camel’s hair” garments, and preached repentance. He ate locusts and wild honey. You have to think John the Baptist kind of stood out in a crowd, and not always in a good way. 

To the people of his day, John’s clothing would have evoked thoughts of the prophets, most notably Elijah. His diet would have been that of the poorest of the poor and would have been in stark contrast to the wealthier of the Jews; the ones who found success in cooperating with the Romans. John didn’t seek out crowds, he lived an ascetic lifestyle so severe that some thought he may have been possessed by a demon. (Mt 11:18)

Yet for all his roughness and anti-establishment lifestyle, multitudes of people sought him out. They listened to his message and were baptized. John’s message of preparing for the coming messiah spoke to the emptiness in the hearts of people and they believed the truth.

The truth speaks to the hidden parts of people. It fills them up and the joy just bubbles out and attracts others. Joy isn’t brought about by the stuff of this word, the trappings of our earthly lives. Joy comes from being near the One who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. 

How can we be a little more like John the Baptist? When John leapt in Elizabeth’s womb, Jesus was hidden in the womb of Mary. Every time we approach the altar, we are near Jesus hidden in the bread and wine. I am not suggesting anyone do cartwheels down the aisle at Mass, but do we approach Jesus with joy and anticipation? Do we take the time to prepare our hearts and minds to fully be present to Jesus as he comes to us? Do we go away from our encounter with him changed in heart and mind? Do we live the truth of the Eucharist with so much joy that others are drawn to us, so that like John the Baptist, we too can point them to Jesus and say, “Behold the Lamb of God”?

Contact the author

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

Posted on

Be Like Abram

Click here for daily readings

There’s a detail in today’s First Reading that was brought to my attention several years ago which changed the way I see this story now. Abram was questioning God’s plan. God came to him promising rewards and Abram wondered what good the rewards would be since he had no son to pass them down to. He was concerned his inheritance would go to his servant. 

God’s response was to take him outside and tell him to count the stars – that’s how many descendants he would have. This had to have been rather hard for Abram to believe because he and his wife Sarai were old and unable to conceive a child. But Abram put his faith in the Lord. He trusted that while it seemed impossible, if God said it would be so, then it would.

He then followed God’s direction to sacrifice some animals and here’s the detail in verse 12 that is important: “As the sun was about to set….” Then in verse 17, we read “When the sun had set and it was dark.” 

When God took Abram outside and asked him to number the stars, it was daytime! There’s just one star in the sky in the day and it’s the sun. Abram saw that one star and he believed it would be sufficient. He believed that despite his lack of children so far and counting just one star, God would keep his promise of many descendants.

We can pray for trust like his. We can ask for the grace to be patient and wait, believing that God will keep his promise. Even if something seems too small, God can make it great. Maybe, like me, you wonder how you can help make this sad, broken world a place where God is glorified. What can I, just one person, do? 

I can begin by trusting God. Trusting he has a plan and even if I can’t see all of it, it will come to fruition. Today, I can do one thing to help make this world better. I can love one person a little more. I can shift my gaze from myself to others and lastly to Jesus. I can have faith that by looking at what is in front of me today and trusting God, all will be well.

Even if it seems like it can’t possibly be enough, it can be. Just ask Abram how it turned out for him.

Contact the author

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

Feature Image Credit: 8385, https://pixabay.com/illustrations/mountains-lake-sea-sunset-dusk-1158269/

Posted on

When God Asks You To Uproot Your Life

Click here for daily readings

The invitation to Abram to uproot his life—a life he knew, a life he had built, a life that had security guaranteed, a life surrounded by his things, his people, his culture—is the beginning of a journey of  thousands of years of all people to the new Jerusalem unveiled for us in the book of Revelation. 

Abram had to make a decision. Do I abandon my fatherland for this land that the Lord is promising to me? Do I abandon my family and my people in favor of a people, a nation, that the Lord is revealing, when I know that logically this doesn’t make sense given Sarai’s infertility? Do I set aside my inheritance, for the inheritance that the Lord is laying out for me? If this were all to work out as the Lord says, I will gain much, but the cost will be great, the risk, the uncertainty. Do I have the trust in this God that will see me through to the end? Abram, we read eventually, left for this land.

In Hebrews we read, “It was by faith that Abraham obeyed when God called him to leave home and go to another land that God would give him as his inheritance. He went without knowing where he was going… And even when he reached the land God promised him, he lived there by faith—for he was like a foreigner, living in tents. …Abraham was confidently looking forward to a city with eternal foundations, a city designed and built by God” (Heb 11:8-10).

Today’s Scripture passage prompts us to a decision, “for our citizenship is in heaven, from which we also eagerly wait for a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ” (Phil 3:20). We need to decide whether to abandon our plans, our security, the stuff we collect and the people we gather around ourselves, and ultimately our earthly “blessings,” for an eternal inheritance promised us though unseen. To exchange our ultimate loyalty to our earthly citizenship to confess our forever credo in the providential love of God who has called us to take on the attitudes, values, thoughts, beliefs, and actions of the Kingdom that is even now growing to maturity in a hidden way on this earth. When the Son of Man returns on the clouds to gather his own into the Kingdom of his Father, to present them as his brothers and sisters, members of his Body, we want to be among that number.

Abram is our father in faith, yet he stumbled and doubted and failed along the way until he completely trusted this God who had chosen him to be the father of a great nation. You and I are a part of this great nation. We struggle and stumble, doubt and fall along the way. Nevertheless, with courage, we keep our eyes fixed on what “eye has not seen, ear has not heard” (1 Cor 2:9).

In the words of Philip Krill, in his book Deified Vision: Toward an Angogical Catholicism, our faith journey “is an anticipated participation in the yet-to-be-fully manifest glory of the Coming Kingdom. ‘Behold, I make all things new!’ exclaims the Savior (Rev 21:5). We eagerly anticipate ‘new heavens and a new earth’ (Is 65:17-25; Rev 21). We expect to see an entirely recreated, transfigured creation: a world so transformed and renewed that every particle of matter…will participate providentially in what God has in store for those who love him (Rom 8:28; 1 Cor 2:9). …. [S]o magnificent and all-inclusive and redemptive is the final consummation of his glory.”

Contact the author

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

Feature Image Credit: jplenio via Pixabay

Posted on

Judging and Tiny Cups

Click here for daily readings

“Stop judging, that you may not be judged. For as you judge, so will you be judged, and the measure with which you measure will be measured out to you.”

 Sometimes, this verse is misunderstood to mean that we cannot judge actions as right or wrong, and so to mean we must tolerate serious wrongdoing because “it’s none of my business.” And if we judge others we will be severely judged. But elsewhere, Jesus tells us to “judge with right judgment” (John 7:24). So, we CAN judge, but we shouldn’t?

 Sometimes, this is (more correctly) understood to mean that we can judge actions but not people. We should not condone sin, but we cannot condemn a sinner. This is certainly true, but where is love in this interpretation? Refusal to judge must be filled with genuine love for the other, and a desire for their good. A “parable” from Erasmus Leiva-Merikakis in his wonderful reflection on the Gospel of Matthew entitled Fire of Mercy, Heart of the Word (Ignatius Press) invites us to a subtler reflection on how we might apply these words to our lives:

 A beggar comes to my door asking for water to quench his thirst. I will not turn him away, because I fear some neighbor might observe my disdain. At the same time I do not consider the beggar worthy of touching with his lips more than the smallest tin cup in the house, which I quickly fill and brusquely hand him, so carelessly that half the cup spills. The cup is so small and mean, in fact, that I tell him to keep it. In reality, I don’t want to waste my time in such company.

 Much time—a whole lifetime—passes, and I find myself in the presence of Christ the King and Judge. I anxiously await my reward: I have always revered God, kept the commandments, observed the Lenten fasts, and celebrated the Church’s feasts with due solemnity. The King hands me back my tin cup, which I had long forgotten and certainly did not expect to see again in this eschatological setting. Seeing the look of dismay on my face, and with an infinite kindness in his voice that almost has the pleading tone of a beggar in it, Christ says to me: ‘I’m sorry, friend. Even I, the King, have no other cup to give you.’

Taking on ourselves the role of judge closes us up against all that the Lord wants to give us! It is not simply a fear of judgment that should align us with these words of Christ, but the awful truth that the capacity of our own hearts for love and forgiveness and God is constricted when we ignore them! To become “perfect as the heavenly Father is perfect,” we must share his loving and forgiving view of all of creation, particularly those we find difficult.

How can we see others through the lens of genuine love today?

Contact the author

Kathryn Mulderink, MA, is married to Robert, Station Manager for Holy Family Radio. Together they have seven children (including newly ordained Father Rob and seminarian Luke ;-), and two grandchildren. She is a Secular Discalced Carmelite and has published five books and many articles. Over the last 25 years, she has worked as a teacher, headmistress, catechist, Pastoral Associate, and DRE. Currently, she serves the Church as a writer and voice talent for Catholic Radio, by publishing and speaking, and by collaborating with the diocesan Office of Catechesis, various parishes, and other ministries to lead others to encounter Christ and engage their faith. Her website is https://www.kathryntherese.com/.

Feature Image Credit: Jonas Brief, https://unsplash.com/photos/tAz3Ve2qPio