You Can’t Always Get What You Want

I will start with a confession: I’m a junkie, and my drug of choice is English mystery shows. Foyle’s War, Grantchester, Single-Handed, Christie… the list goes on and on. I like them because what they show is people in stressful situations, and that always ups the ante, so to speak, on human interest.

Plus, I love the accents.

In re-watching Broadchurch recently, a drama that deals eloquently and respectfully with a village torn apart by a child’s murder, the grieving parents go to the local priest and say, “We prayed and prayed! Why can’t we find peace?” And the priest replies with compassion and love and a little sadness, “Sometimes God doesn’t give us what we ask for. Sometimes he gives us what we need.”

It’s a profound lesson for those of us who grew up on (and still use) laundry-lists instead of prayers. “I want this… and this… and this…”

I’m very struck by the story within the story of today’s Gospel when Jesus—already hurrying on his unquestionably important mission of raising a child from the dead—stops when he feels someone touching his garment. A woman has touched it, a woman with a terrible disease, and believing she would be healed, she reached out to him. Matthew’s account of this encounter is shorter than that of the other evangelists, but we still get the idea. She believed him to be a healer—a good thing—but she also didn’t really see much beyond what she was asking for. I want to be healed. I want to be out of pain. I know you have some kind of magic. You don’t even have to turn around. I just want to be healed; that’s all.

She wanted health; she would have been quite contented to have had no more to do with him, if she could only have been cured and then slipped away from the crowd. She had her prayer list: “I want this… and this… and this…”

But Jesus isn’t about lists, and, as the priest in the other story observed, sometimes we don’t get what we want, but rather what we need. In this case, the woman got both. She got what she wanted, instant healing, which in turn may have made her more open to what Jesus subsequently observed she needed: faith in the healer.

Probably accustomed to slinking around—any disease having to do with blood would have automatically made her unclean—she was now suddenly in the spotlight. Jesus stops, he turns. The crowd around him stops too, probably disgruntled: they thought they were on their way to a resurrection. Everyone is staring at her. There are probably some unkind words said. But Jesus, having caught her in her part of the bargain, now seals his: you took a risk, he tells her. Now you’re well. What’s next?

Even if we get what we want, even when we get what we want, there’s always a “what’s next?” God isn’t a benevolent Santa Claus in the sky, happy to hear what we want and give it to us, his only reward a plate of cookies and a glass of tepid milk. God could have originated the adage “to whom more is given, more is expected.” You have been healed; is your life the same?

Of course, it isn’t for us, any more than it was for her. Matthew is brief in his description, but Mark goes into more detail. In his version, the woman stands up, only to then throw herself at Jesus’ feet. She got her healing, but she got so much more besides. She didn’t slink away. She didn’t cover herself in shame. She became a follower of Jesus. There was no real connection between touching the robe and healing, but the woman thought there was, and so Christ stooped to her childish thought, and allowed her to prescribe the form his mercy should take. He gave her what she wanted. And then, by acknowledging her, by—shockingly—speaking directly to her, he gave her also what she needed: the opportunity to take the pathway to eternal life.

My dearest friend Caren is struggling in a job that has become increasingly toxic. She has education, years of experience, immense qualifications. For over a year she’s been sending out her résumé, and every time a company seems interested, something dramatic suddenly happens. The company is acquired by another one. There’s a freeze on hiring. Some reorganization is going on. Meanwhile, things at her current job are going from bad to worse, as her department is being phased out altogether.

She keeps asking God—no, imploring God—to help her secure a new job. For reasons far beyond our understanding, he apparently is saying no. Or not yet. We don’t know.

God isn’t giving her what she wants, what she’s asking for. Is he giving her what she needs? In some convoluted way, that’s what we’re being called to believe. That is the essence of faith. To touch the garment. To take the setbacks. To not see where the road is going, but to trust it’s going somewhere. To put away the list of things we want and sit for a time with what we have and then ask, humbly, for the next best step.

On those English mystery TV shows I watch, this all gets resolved in an hour or so. In real life, it takes a little longer. I ask for your prayers for my friend. And for patience in your own lives. God really is at work in our world. We may not see it, but we know it. We have touched the garment. We have been healed… and so much more.

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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.

The Sky is Falling

Warm ash falls from the tops of buildings as the brightest light imaginable makes our pupils dilate to the size of a pen head. There is a heat that can only be described as that of a blazing furnace built for forging swords of old. This sounds like the opening paragraph of a book about the end of the world, but really it’s just me imagining what the end of the world might be like.

There is a lot of talk today about the end of the world. As our culture seems to deteriorate more and more we can’t help but wonder where all of this is going and how fast. The optimist in me immediately reminds myself that there have been many times that cultures have thought the world was ending, but it didn’t. Whether the end of the world is near or not, a question that we just don’t know the answer to, I think our response to the world today should be one of optimism.

It is easy to look around and feel like the sky is falling around us, but the Gospel today reminds us that, “The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few.”

Today in the Church we could look at the situation and get depressed about the slew of people leaving the Church but what is that going to get us? Instead, the Gospel reminded me today that I am one of the disciples. I am called to go out during this time where the harvest can be so abundant, but I need to go and till the soil. I think that is a call for all of us.

I am reminded of that iconic scene from the Lord of the Rings:

“Frodo: I can’t do this, Sam.

Sam: I know.
It’s all wrong
By rights, we shouldn’t even be here.
But we are.
It’s like in the great stories Mr. Frodo.
The ones that really mattered.
Full of darkness and danger they were,
and sometimes you didn’t want to know the end.
Because how could the end be happy.
How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad happened.
But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow.
Even darkness must pass.
A new day will come.
And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer.
Those were the stories that stayed with you.
That meant something.
Even if you were too small to understand why.
But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand.
I know now.
Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn’t.
Because they were holding on to something.

Frodo: What are we holding on to, Sam?

Sam: That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for.”

I don’t know about you but that scene gets me amped up. I get excited that every person I meet is another chance to share the love of Christ. I get excited that there are people out there who really want to know the truth and I can present it to them. I get pumped about learning new things about my neighbors and entering into their experience.

The point is that we are all called to be disciples and to till the soil. When we think about the daunting task ahead of us do we fall into despair and immediately think about the end of the world or do you think more like Sam? I pray that I can be a Sam. 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.

The Wedding Feast

I absolutely love when God’s love and our relationship with him are described in wedding terms. I especially love when those terms include food. Think back to the most delicious wedding reception you have ever attended. For me, it was my own. We found a place to cater our wedding that had the absolute best wedding food I have ever had. We had pulled pork sandwiches, chicken teriyaki skewers, and fancy mac and cheese. Instead of dry chicken and boiled vegetables, we had comfort food specifically because we wanted people to enjoy it and have a really good time.

The beauty of food is that it brings people together. We all have a favorite family recipe that we love to bring to events or family gatherings. We all have that Aunt or Uncle who is so good at cooking that they could start their own restaurant. We just celebrated the 4th of July. Have you ever noticed that every major holiday has a feast as the hallmark of the celebration? We come together around food.

It is no different with our communal relationship with Christ. The Mass is people from all different backgrounds coming together and sharing in a meal, but this meal does not leave us wanting more or hurting from overeating. This meal gives us eternal life. St. Francis de Sales once said, “When the bee has gathered the dew of heaven and the earth’s sweetest nectar from the flowers, it turns it into honey, then hastens to its hive. In the same way, the priest, having taken from the altar the Son of God (who is as the dew from heaven, and true son of Mary, flower of our humanity), gives him to you as delicious food.”

Jesus is our food and we can experience him here and now, but we also long for the fulfillment of the wedding feast of the lamb, we all long for heaven. Or at least we should. As Christians, we should groan in hunger for our future heavenly feast. If we don’t then perhaps we should fast more. This is something I want to do more in my life. Fasting allows us to feel hunger, and that hunger can remind us that we hunger to be perfectly united with God.

As we all rest from eating during the holiday, let’s try to make one tangible decision to fast in the hopes that we will be reminded of how much we hunger for God. This could be as simple as giving up salt on your meals for a week or something bigger like fasting every Wednesday and eating nothing but bread and water. You know where you are at in your relationship with God. What is going to help you take the next step towards God, the next step closer to the wedding feast where we will no longer hunger or thirst? 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.

He Desires Mercy

A couple of weeks ago, I shared my story of a homeless man asking for change and how I was embarrassed for wanting to give him less than a dollar. I thought I was golden for having realized that I need to be more generous. Apparently, I thought I had learned my lesson in generosity and was ready to move onto the next fruit of the Spirit. 

Today’s Gospel reminds me that just because I sacrificed my money, that does not mean that I am done. I am not 100 percent generous and holy and ready to move on. Instead, he is asking me to take a step deeper into true stewardship and community. 

Being generous is not quite the same thing as doing God’s work. There is more to helping people around you than just words and physical gifts. My friend in college used to say that “Anyone can give money, but not everyone actually gives a hoot.”

Jesus says something similar when he tells us, “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.” We are to look at the people around us, the lost, the poor, the weak, the people we call “other,” and see them as the children of God that they are.  Maybe I’m on Facebook more often or maybe I am becoming more socially aware, but I see such a lack of mercy in our culture, in the nation that I truly love and celebrated yesterday. 

I see animosity on social media rather than two sides learning from one another. I see people selfishly fighting each other instead of selflessly fighting for change. What’s worse is that I see people’s blatant disregard for human life just because they are born in another country, born into a different culture, born in another time period, or just simply unborn. 

I want to know where the mercy is because, for a great nation that came into existence by immigration, all I see is a self-serving sacrifice. Our God does not want a flippant sacrifice. He expects something much more complex and often more difficult for us. He desires mercy

The Lord wants, deeply desires, for us to be compassionate and practice forgiveness. He desires for us to let go of our anger and forgive people for being different than us, even though they may not know American customs, do not acknowledge the sanctity of life, and even if they do not know or believe in God. Our Father wants us to come from a place of wanting better for the people you disagree with, wanting for them to know the truth with love, not vindictively.

Today, I ask you to consider the things you read in the media and try to understand the people in the stories,  rather than only seeing the political issues. Focus on the people and what they must be going through. Consider the risks they are taking and the pain that they are in. See that the trouble that they find themselves in were never their first choice. 

In your heart, you’ll know that the choices they’ve made, right or wrong, good or bad, were not easy. 

Gracious and Loving God,
Help us in this time of great suffering,
That we may look upon those suffering with the love you have shown us.
Grant us your patience to be silent and listen when we think we are right.
Grant us your love to pour forth on those that do not know you.
Grant us your strength to have mercy for those that need it the most.
We are not done learning from each other and we are never done learning from You, O Lord.
May the Holy Spirit, our guide, lead us toward compassion.
May Jesus Christ, who forgave his murderers, teach us forgiveness.

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.

Belief in the Son

“I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else. –C.S. Lewis

I often think about what it would be like to walk alongside Christ. What if he knocked on my door and asked to go for a walk, or what if He came into the house and sat on our couch? I wish that I could experience Him in the way that the apostles did while they spent time with Him before His ascension into Heaven, the way that the individuals encountered Him on the Road to Emmaus.

While I often imagine what these happenings would be like I am simultaneously wondering if I would truly believe Christ was physically present with me, would my heart be on fire due to His presence, or would I need proof of His presence by touching His side and wounds like St. Thomas the Apostle did?

St. Thomas said he would not believe Christ had appeared to the rest of the apostles unless he could see Christ’s wounds and put his hand into Christ’s side. How often do we doubt God’s presence and power in our own lives, wanting physical signs of God?  I tend to pray for signs, even though I know God does not want me to test Him – rather He wants me to trust with an open heart all of His promises. How do we let our soul ascent to the Heavens rather than let our hearts get stuck in the mud? The answer lies in the Sacraments that God has given us in the Church.

God knows that as humans we need our senses to be engaged so that we can be further drawn into the mysteries of our faith.  When you have trouble believing in God’s presence look to the sacraments. God gives us a physical sign of His love through the graces He provides in the sacraments instituted by Christ. While it takes a great leap of faith to believe in the sacraments, who God is, and all that the Church teaches we must remember that the road to Heaven is narrow and will ask great things of us. God sent His only Son to help us walk this narrow path with an open heart and faith in Christ’s promises. If we look to the life of Christ on earth we can be more assured than ever of the truth of who God really is: Shepherd, Bread of Life, the Lamb, and the Light.

No matter the trials we face in believing in God and all of His promises He walks gently beside us through our times of disbelief and doubt, desiring for us to reach out and ask for help when we have trouble trusting in His goodness.  The trials we face of unbelief help us to rely more upon our Lord, and ultimately the times we stumble make the triumphs in faith so much sweeter, increasing our strength on our faith journey towards sainthood.

“Faith is to believe what you do not see; the reward of this faith is to see what you believe. –St. Augustine

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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.

One Foot in Front of the Other

I’ve struggled to reflect on today’s readings without oversharing. So this is your fair warning, this post is not “Facebook” photo ready. It is about the day to day struggle to live a life of faith. I share this with my husband’s blessing. 

My husband’s job was “downsized” and my second job was restructured. The result is that within just a few months, we went from three salaries to living on one Catholic School teacher salary. Financial insecurity is part of our lives right now. 

We know we are in a better position than so many and are grateful for every gift we have, but nonetheless, there is no denying we have entered a lean time. At an age when we thought we would be gliding towards retirement, we are plodding along, paycheck to paycheck. 

It may not always be pretty, but there is so much for us to learn at this time. The readings have been speaking to my heart so directly lately. On Sunday, we heard about Elisha, literally burning up what he owned before following God’s call to attend Elijah. In the Sunday Gospel reading, Jesus had several warnings that when we follow Him, we are to follow and not look back. 

And then In today’s readings, we have Lot’s wife. 

Looking back, bemoaning what was and what we wanted is a human tendency. Our plans, our dreams for the near future have gone up in smoke. I can kind of relate to Lot’s wife, she had to look back just once. There is a pull that makes us want to just shut down and watch the smoke rise from our broken lives. In terms of our faith, this is the push where the rubber hits the road. We have choices. We have to decide either to follow where God leads or look back to what we had planned. (A dear friend is fond of reminding me, man proposes, God disposes). We are so fortunate. Like Lot who fled to Zoar, we have a refuge. Now, it is up to us, we can take shelter and praise God for what is or like Lot’s wife, we can turn back to focus on what was.

That Lot’s wife was turned into a pillar of salt when she looked back is more food for thought. We think of salt as a seasoning, but in times prior to refrigeration, salt was primarily a preservative. In turning back from God’s directions, her choice was literally preserved in salt. Her choice is preserved as a memorial to the fact that we can’t have it both ways. We can’t follow God and hold on to the ways of the world. 

In Matthew 5:13, Jesus says, “You are the salt of the earth.” That’s our calling! We are not to be a pillar of salt but to go out and salt the world with God’s love. How will it be known if we love God? “I give you a new commandment: love one another. This is how all will know that you are my disciples if you have love for one another.” (John 13:34-35). 

St. Gregory of Nyssa, in a treatise on Christian Perfection, draws a relevant connection between our deeds, words, and thoughts. “Thoughts come first, then words, since our words express openly the interior conclusions of the mind. Finally, after thoughts and words, come actions, for our deeds carry out what the mind has conceived.” In Lot’s wife, we see this carried to the extreme. We may not know her words, but we ‘see’ the thoughts of her heart in action as she ignores the angels’ directions and turns back to what was. We see immediately the result as her thought is memorialized in the pillar of salt. 

If I want to live up to Jesus’s call to be the salt of the earth, then even when my nature screams for financial security and a sense of control, I have to choose to trust Jesus completely. If I am going to be a disciple of Jesus, if I want to see him calm the sea and still the waves, then I cannot shrink back from the storm. 

So, if life isn’t quite as calm and peaceful as you’d like, if you are struggling to let go of what was or what you wanted, please know you are not alone. I get it! I understand that push and pull struggle between wanting my way and desiring desperately to be all in with Jesus. It’s hard! Jesus is with you…and the Holy Spirit. It hasn’t been that long since Pentecost when we celebrated because the Holy Spirit was sent to strengthen us. He is a real and present help in refocusing our thoughts which will be expressed in our words and lived in our deeds. Even when God feels far away and like life is just putting one step in front of the other on a journey we didn’t choose, He’s there. When the walk is hard, when we are in the lean times, when the path doesn’t seem to make sense, we still get to choose whether to be the salt of the earth or to be a memorial in salt. We get to keep walking and as we walk, we follow the one who calms the sea and controls the wind. If we are going to radical followers of a radical God, we can’t stay focused back towards what we thought we wanted, we need to orient our lives upward to God and then outward, through Him to others. So keep going! You are a beloved child of the One who rules the waves. You can do this. We can do this. 

Today’s Psalm sums it up, what we are to do when we hit rough terrain. When we just need to keep going with our heart focused on God:

“But I walk in integrity; redeem me and have mercy on me. My foot stands on level ground; in the assemblies, I will bless the Lord.” 

May God continue to bless you, wherever you are walking! We are praying for you!

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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 figuring out a new knitting or quilting pattern. 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.

Following Wherever

Shorter Gospel readings may seem easy – a point or two, quickly understood. But they always intrigue me and prompt a question: Why did the Church choose just these five verses? What should I learn here?

Two men make different comments to Jesus, and we are always invited to “put ourselves in their shoes” and examine our own attitudes when we read about how others encounter Jesus. The first is a scribe, and it is helpful to understand that in the Jewish community at this time, a scribe was one who had studied the Scriptures so long and intensely that he had an intimate knowledge of God’s revelation. To be a scribe was like having a Ph. D. in revelation, with the right to gather disciples and teach them and to sit in the “Jewish tribunal” (the Sanhedrin). A scribe was part of the religious “elite,” to whom others would submit.

And yet this scribe, learned and well-established, must have listened to Jesus speak and teach, and decided to submit himself entirely to Jesus, saying to him, “Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go.” Though Jesus has not studied the Torah in the kind of school that the scribe has and he has no comparable credentials, the scribe calls him “teacher.” Though Jesus has nothing and has not laid out a plan for traveling, teaching, or establishing a way of worship, the scribe says he will follow him “wherever” he goes. He has no expectations of glory. He cannot know where this unpredictable teacher and healer will go or what he will do, and yet he is willing to follow him, essentially forsaking his social class and his intellectual efforts.

Why? The scribe must have recognized, as others had, that Jesus “taught as one having authority and not like their scribes” (Mt 7:28-29). He must have seen that Jesus “interprets” the Scriptures in a new way – by his life and actions. He must have seen beyond the written Scriptures he understood so well to recognize Jesus as the living Word. He must have seen that it is better to follow this living and mysterious Truth than to remain “stuck” in his deeply learned process of studying to uncover some truth. Only if he saw Jesus as the embodiment of Truth would it make sense for him to step away from his current status and lifestyle and submit himself wholly to remaining with Jesus, wherever he goes, wherever he leads.

How about us? Are we “stuck” in ways of understanding that we are called to forsake in order to embrace the unknown Way of the Lord?  Do we trust enough to abandon ourselves wholly to the living and true Word, “wherever” he leads?

Studying the Gospel is one way to prepare our hearts and minds for this trusting surrender, and I highly recommend a book of meditations on St. Matthew’s Gospel called Fire of Mercy, Heart of the Word by Erasmo Leiva-Merikakis, which opened up this Gospel for me!

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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/.

Faith of the Martyrs

Today is the last day of the U.S. bishop’s annual “Religious Freedom Week”. This week is a recognition of the importance to pray, reflect, and take action on Religious Freedom. It began last Friday with the Memorial of Saints Thomas More and John Fisher, two saints who devoted their lives to the good of their country, but in the end, were forced to choose between God and country and chose God.

Today is also the Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul. As part of Religious Freedom Week, the United States bishops chose today as the day to raise awareness about religious freedom for those who are incarcerated.

The readings tell us the stories of Peter and Paul. In the first, we hear of the martyrdom of James (the first Apostle to be martyred) as well as the arrest of Peter at the hand of Herod. Luke then tells us of the miraculous escape of Peter from his imprisonment through the Angel of the Lord. Peter, because of his faith, was spared by God. God knew that Peter’s time would come but that there was still much work to be done.

And the responsorial psalm fits right into that… “The angel of the Lord will rescue those who fear Him”

In the second reading, we hear St. Paul’s letter to Timothy. Paul wrote this letter from prison and in it, Paul says that he knows that he has done God’s will for him on earth. “I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith”. That is all God asks of us: to keep our faith in him until the very end, no matter what we face. Paul was able to die looking forward to eternal happiness and union with God. That is our goal, that is how we should live our lives as well.

The Church was founded on Peter, the rock. A man who, at one time, denied Jesus but lived the rest of his life proclaiming the Good News that is the Resurrection of Christ. Peter and Paul died for what they knew was, and still is the Truth.

May we follow the examples of Saints Peter and Paul and not be afraid to proclaim our faith to the masses. May we fight for Religious Freedom and help those who are persecuted for their faith.

Sts. Peter and Paul, pray for us!

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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 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.

The Sacred Heart of Jesus

There is in the Sacred Heart the symbol and express image of the infinite love of Jesus Christ which moves us to love in return. – Pope Leo XIII

Can you pick just one thing that is great about being Catholic? Definitely, the fact that Jesus is present to us body, blood, soul and divinity at every Mass and we can spend time with him physically present in Adoration have to be at the top of the list. But there are some other things which are pretty great about being part of the family of the Church which is known for “both…and…”. There is room under the Catholic roof for loud praise and worship and silent, reverent devotion. We can attend Mass in the language we speak and in the ancient language of the Church. Some of us are called to proclaim the kingdom by working in the world and being a Christ to those we meet outside of the Church and some of us are called to spend our lives working within the Church helping each one become more like Jesus. Under the Catholic roof is some of the most incredible artwork ever created by man and kitschy plastic St. Christophers for on the dash of your car. Not only is there room for both, but we also NEED both!

Our God is incarnational. He took on our flesh, our matter and in doing so, He sanctified all creation. The very physicality of the created world is now capable of pointing us to God and leading us to holiness. 

For those of us who have been around for a while, we don’t even blink an eye or do a double take at the sight of an icon of Jesus with his heart on the outside of his body. Not only is his bloody heart exposed, but it is also wrapped in thorns and on fire! Yikes! But we understand the role of icons. Icons are art which points to something beyond itself. (Sounds pretty close to the definition of a sacrament doesn’t it? There is a pattern here.) 

So for today, the Feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, I invite you to look and really see the icon of the Sacred Heart. As you do, look to the revelation of God’s nature that we are given through the prophet Ezekiel in the first reading. 

Thus says the Lord:

I myself will look after
I will tend
I will rescue
I will lead
I will bring them back
I will pasture
I myself will give them rest
I will seek out
I will bind up
I will heal 

In every age and culture, the heart can be found as a symbol of love and affection. Jesus came as one of us and took that symbol further. He came to show us that love is not just cute cupids. Love is not just when times are good and we feel all emotional. True love is a total gift of self. It is set aside for a purpose and is precious. Love pierces our souls as surely as a thorn pierces flesh. It opens us to something deeper than ourselves and wider than our own interests. Love is a fire which burns but does not consume. It is the power of the Holy Spirit to transform us from our selfish innermost ways. When we give ourselves over to that, when we can give our whole heart without counting the cost, then we are most fulfilled. 

Paradoxical? Yes. 

Wonderful? Absolutely.

Worth it? Without a doubt. 

So gaze upon Jesus’s exposed heart and ask him on this day, and every day, to convert your heart to be just like his; open to all, courageous enough to bear the thorns and on fire with the Holy Spirit.

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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 figuring out a new knitting or quilting pattern. 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.

The Power of Storytelling

The first humans, we learned in school, domesticated fire, and in so doing they changed their species’ trajectory dramatically. Now humans could cook food. Now they could live in colder climates. Now they could keep wild animals at bay.

Those early fires served another purpose, just as important: they provided a place for people to gather. And when people gather, the first thing they do is tell stories. We love stories! We love true stories, the stories of our ancestors, the daring feats others performed, the cautionary tales. And we love made-up stories, too, through which we stretch our creativity and learn truths we might not understand otherwise.

God gave us a love of stories, and then he gave us a plethora of stories to love.

It’s not accidental that Christianity is one of the three “religions of the book.” Being Christian is holding dear the stories handed down to us that define who we are, teach us our faith, and challenge us to become better people.

And no one knew the value of storytelling better than Jesus. Throughout the Gospels, we see him time and time again speaking and teaching in parables—stories—just as he is doing in today’s Gospel, when he contrasts the wise man building his house upon a rock with the foolish man building his on sand. In a scenario not unlike those we’re facing already with climate change, “the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house.”

I have to admit this example makes me a little nervous. I live in a very small cottage in a place particularly vulnerable to floods, as my whole community was built—no joke—on a sand bar. In a literal way, I am the foolish man of Jesus’ parable: I see the peril and have chosen to live here nonetheless.

Oops.

But that’s the power in Jesus’ story, isn’t it? It hit close to home for me—well, literally, but figuratively as well. I know well and have accepted my foolishness in living where I do; having that mirror turned toward me in the guise of a story underscores what I already know to be true. So how much more powerful was it for me, then, to understand the truth that’s behind the story: that I can bear to lose my home, should that terrible storm come… but I couldn’t bear to lose something deeper, the point of Jesus’ narrative.

“Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell–and great was its fall!”

We’re all foolish sometimes, in some aspects of our lives, aren’t we? That’s part of human nature. Sometimes we do what’s right, and sometimes we don’t. We make good choices and we make bad choices. But behind all that day-to-day decision-making, beyond all the ups and downs of what each new moment might bring us, is the point Jesus is making: in our spiritual lives, we can’t afford foolishness.

In other words, live in a cottage by the sea if you must, take your chances in this life, but be serious about what needs to be taken seriously.

And what is Jesus so serious about, that he’s making it into a story so we will understand it, so we won’t forget? That we aren’t supposed to just hear the word of God. We’re not supposed to just read the scripture, say the rosary, go to Mass. We’re supposed to act on it. Do something about it. Take it seriously.

The power of storytelling is the power of memory. We might not remember lists, or advice, or historical dates, or what’s in the periodic table of elements, but we remember stories. They enter our consciousness at a different level from facts. They become part of us. To communicate with someone at the deepest level, at the level of memory and faith and love and everything serious, you tell a story. Stories give ideas power.

And so Jesus sits us down around a metaphorical fire and tells us a story. The story has a moral, and it’s a deceptively simple one: we are to act as though we were followers of Christ. A folk song back in the 60s said, “they’ll know we are Christians by our love.” Farther back still, St. Francis of Assisi said, “You may be the only Gospel your neighbor ever reads.” We are called to live differently, to act differently, because we have heard the word of God and it has changed our lives.

Hear Jesus’ words. Act upon them. That is what will make you the wise person, the one who thinks things through, the one who is ready for the storms.

As to where you build your physical house? Well… maybe I’m not the best person to ask about that!

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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.

He Remembers Forever His Covenant, which He Made Binding for a Thousand Generations

Can you even fathom a thousand generations? By today’s standard of 20-25 years per generation, we would go back, from today, 20,000 to 25,000 years. Calendars didn’t even exist then, to mark the years as we do today. Let’s just agree it is a very long time. By God’s standard, it is an eternity.

God made covenants with Abram, Noah, and others. An unbreakable promise of fidelity. Today we enter in “contracts” of many kinds: credit card company terms; a mortgage on our house; contracts between two parties to collaborate on an issue; employment terms or simply promises made — and on and on. So, what’s the big deal.

Here’s the big deal – a promise made or a contract broken is one person to another. I break my contract with you, and you either forget the contract or sue me for breach. God, on the other hand, will not! That is the nature of covenant. I forget to love and honor others, or to obey his precepts; he does not forget us. God cannot and will not, break his promises to us, regardless of careless attention to our part of the deal.

The covenant God made with Abram was profound. Abram’s name will be changed to Abraham to signify that something different is happening and Abraham will have descendants as numerous as the stars. All from one son who will be born to him and Sarah (Sarai) in their very old age.

Today, we celebrate the New Covenant given us by Jesus with the institution of the Eucharist at the Last Supper. The old covenant given by God (the sacrifice of bulls & other animals) is replaced with something more precious, the sacrifice of his Son. Jesus’ own body and blood for our spiritual food. His own! And again, though we constantly sin, constantly ignore what is good for us, Jesus does not forget us! His covenant is binding to a thousand generations. How small, how insignificant our own lifetimes in comparison.

You may recall that the covenant with Noah was sealed by a bow – a rainbow in the sky – a promise that God will never again destroy humankind in such a way. Whether or not you believe the story of the great flood literally, or figuratively, doesn’t matter. God made a covenant promise that will stand forever. And Jesus will never, no matter what we do, withdraw the great gift of himself given as the New Covenant.

Sometime last year, I recall, backing out of my garage and turning to drive from the parking area. As I turned the car, there in front of me, in the early morning sky, was the largest, most beautiful rainbow I had ever seen. It was so vibrant and seemed so close; I thought I could reach out my car window and touch it. I was so excited! It was gorgeous. I tried to call my neighbor to look out to see it, but I fumbled because I didn’t want to lose sight of the rainbow before it faded.

Every time I see a rainbow, I am mindful of the great promises of God and his fidelity to us. I believe this phenomenon of nature was designed to do just that. To help us to remember the great love of God and his Son for we simple, humble beings. How could we not be excited?

God Bless.

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Jeanne Penoyar, an Accounts Manager at Diocesan, is a Lector at St. Anthony of Padua parish in Grand Rapids, MI. Jeanne has worked in parish ministry as an RCIA director, in Liturgy, and as a Cantor. Working word puzzles and reading fill her spare time. Jeanne can be reached at jpenoyar@diocesan.com.

Leave our Quarreling

It seems that everywhere we look there is strife among kinsmen, just like in today’s First Reading. Whether it be jealousy, hurtful words, constant comparisons, or simple differences of opinion, so many things can cause division. In the case of Abram and Lot, it was wealth. They had so many possessions they couldn’t live together. There were quarrels… over what? Hey, your sheep are grazing on my grass! Your turkeys are squawking too loud! Your tent flap is hitting my tent flap! The sun is reflecting off your gold and hurting my eyes…!

Doesn’t it all sound so ridiculous? If we allow ourselves to fall into that trap, we can find little things to argue about all day long. We can allow conflict to eat us up, ruin our relationships and turn us into disgruntled souls. Or, we can choose simplicity, positivity, and love.

Thankfully, my family has never had to worry about wealth. Since I was a kid, we were a middle-class family that watched every penny to get by. I was delivering newspapers by age 8, babysitting by age 11 and bought my own CD’s, Chap Stick and cars. Anything that wasn’t food, shelter, and clothing I purchased with my own nickels and dimes.

Now I have a family of my own, a small army of little boys, and we are living pretty close to the same blueprint. We live in the house I group up in, my sons go to the same Catholic School I did and they are also learning hard work and responsibility. We live on one income and spend as much time outdoors as possible. Sure, they fight over toys, perhaps their version of “wealth” but there are no video games, no tablets, and only one family TV. They wear clothing shared among their cousins and their sporting equipment comes from thrift stores and rummage sales.

I realize that perhaps we are an oddity in today’s society. We don’t ask Alexa what the weather is like each morning or even let our boys hold our phones. We drive old cars so we really don’t care if they have one more dent from a stray soccer ball. We don’t keep up on the day’s news or the latest sports headline. We just live. Food, clothing, shelter. Throw in a few dozen activities to keep the kiddos moving and we’re all set until we crash into bed at the end of each day.

Perhaps a bit too simplistic, but the less you have, the less there is to bicker about. The less you have, the more silence there is to just be. The less you have, the more you can reflect on all that God wants you to be. Looking at life from this perspective, we begin to see the wisdom of evangelical poverty.

“Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road broad that leads to destruction, and those who enter it are many. How narrow the gate and constricted the road that leads to life. And those who find it are few.” ( Mt 7: 13-14)

May God grant us the grace to leave our quarreling and our ‘riches’ behind in order to be one of those few who find that narrow road that leads to life.

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Tami grew up in Western Michigan, a middle child in a large Catholic family. She spent early young adulthood as a missionary in Mexico, studying theology and philosophy, then worked and traveled extensively before finishing her Bachelor’s Degree in Western Kentucky. She loves tackling home improvement projects, finding fun ways to keep her four boys occupied, quiet conversation with the hubby and finding unique ways to love. She works at Diocesan, is a guest blogger on CatholicMom.com and BlessedIsShe.net, runs her own blog at https://togetherandalways.wordpress.com and has been doing Spanish translations on the side for almost 20 years.