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What is it?

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What is it? The thing too impossible to climb like the vastest mountain range or inner chamber of the heart. The thing so ever-present but which constantly makes us shy further and further away. The thing that consumes our every thought as we try to distract from the fact it even exists. What is it that needs to be healed in our hearts?

Have you ever had surgery on the heart tissue? I have never personally had such surgery, but some people very close to me, including my brother and dad have. When it involves the heart there is instantly a worry, a fear, or panic. I remember one time when I was living on my own that I thought I was having a heart attack. I jumped out of bed and drove to the hospital as I thought this was it. After hours of testing, it turns out that the cajun tater tots I had the night before gave me such bad acid reflux that I thought I was dying. When it involves the heart we freak out.

Maybe this is the reason we are so afraid to let God into this very thing that terrifies us. Maybe we know he can heal, but we don’t want him to get that close. Maybe we have faith that he is God, but believe his time is better spent on others. Maybe we believe that our hearts were somehow created differently as if the heart switch in heaven was broken the day we were born, and we don’t function properly. We all have different reasons for believing that God should not get too close. We all have different reasons for our lack of faith. I ask myself today, what is mine? Then I ask you, what is yours?

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Tommy Shultz is Director of Evangelization for the North Allegan Catholic Collaborative and the founder of Rodzinka Ministries. In these roles, he is committed to bringing all those he meets into a deeper relationship with Christ. 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. With a degree in Theology from Franciscan University, Tommy hopes to use his knowledge to help all people understand the beauty of The Faith.

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How Can We Sing?

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Today’s Psalm is eerily poignant for our current state of affairs.

The Psalmist is wallowing in his own misery while exiled in Babylon. There are many things he could have been weeping about.

Perhaps it was over the deaths of loved ones. We can relate to that right now, in the throws of a worldwide pandemic that has claimed the lives of so many.

Or perhaps he was weeping over the destroyed city & great temple of Jerusalem, and the loss of almost everything he owned. I’m sure small business owners whose stores have been ravaged and destroyed during the nationwide riots can sympathize with that.

He proceeds to remember in lamentation the great Zion, which was one of the hills that they had built the city of Jerusalem on. In Jerusalem, they were free to pluck their harps in joyful song to the Lord. The Psalmist is looking back on his past with longing of once-had pleasure and blessings, sitting in the present of forced captivity and cruelty, and looking toward the future with bleak hopelessness.

I don’t know about you, but that sounds almost exactly like what I have been feeling these past few months. Even the simple pleasures that we took for granted, like going to the park or enjoying a meal with loved ones, seem so distant. If God is good, how can He allow all of the brokenness, hurt, anger, and sickness that are surrounding us on every side? If we were created for love, why is there so much hatred amongst mankind right now? This is the age old question, isn’t it?

Like today’s Psalmist, I cry out to the heavens from my 3 bedroom place of captivity in desperation. I throw yet another load of laundry in the dryer, wash yet another dish, scramble to answer yet another email during naptime. How can I sing a joyful song to the Lord in this time, when I am barely able to mutter a sleepy Hail Mary as I trail off to sleep during my Rosary?

And then I remember my “Zion”. My 16 month old, bright-eyed, food-loving angel. Some mornings, he is the only thing that gets me out of bed. I turn on praise music and watch him raise his arms and sway with a reckless abandon that I wish I had. His first name (Judah) means ‘praise’, and he is the hill on which my hope is found right now.

How is it possible to cling to faith in the face of desperation? Look into the eyes of a child.

The world insists that “what you see is what you get!” If that were true right now, I don’t know if we would be able to find any reason to keep on living in today’s world. However, faith says otherwise – what we see is not what we get. We long for what is unseen by our mortal eyes. We await what we do not know because we have yet to experience it, almost like a baby that has yet to be born has no experience of the world.

In the Old Testament, hopelessness is often expressed by the narrator lifting up his voice and crying out to the Lord in desperation. Brothers and sisters, right now we are being called to echo the Psalmist. This is the great paradox of hope – being called to hang on to the branch even as it is beginning to break. In this year of 2020, we are being brought to our knees so that we can praise Him in the driest of valleys. Have faith that our Heavenly Father will come to draw you out. Your Zion will come again. But for now, let our tongue be silenced if we ever forget Him.

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Sarah Rose hails from Long Island and graduated from Franciscan University in 2016 with a Bachelor’s in Theology & Catechetics. She is happily married to her college sweetheart John Paul. They welcomed their first child, Judah Zion, in 2019. She is passionate about her big V-vocation: motherhood, and her little v-vocation: bringing people to encounter Christ through the true, the good, and the beautiful. She loves fictional novels, true crime podcasts/documentaries, the saints (especially Blessed Chiara Luce Badano), & sharing conversation over a good cup of coffee. She is currently the Coordinator of Young Adult Ministry at St. Cecilia Church in Oakley, Cincinnati. You can find out more about her ministry here: https://eastsidefaith.org/young-adult OR at https://www.facebook.com/stceciliayam.

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Set Solidly

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“How easily we could win Heaven day by day just by doing what we have to do — but doing it for God!” -St. John Vianney

In today’s Gospel, we hear the end of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. The first words we hear are powerful and clear: “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the Kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven.” Later, Jesus uses the analogy of a house built on a rock–a strong foundation. Those who build their houses on rocks are safe and protected from dangers such as floods and winds. Those who build their houses on sand–a weak foundation–however, are susceptible to those dangers. In a homily on this Gospel, Pope Francis distinguishes between “Christians of words” and “Christians of action and of truth”. The “Christians of words” are those that say “Lord, Lord” but do not bear witness to those words with their actions; these Christians build their houses on sand. The “Christians of action and truth” are those that bear witness, through their actions, to the Truth of Christianity; these Christians build their houses on rock.

We were made to know, to love, and to serve God. It is part of our nature to follow His will. Yet, how often do we find ourselves saying the words but not following them with our actions? St. Teresa of Avila, in The Interior Castle, wrote “What value is there in faith without works? And what are they worth if they are not united to the merits of Jesus Christ, our only God?” Christ died on the Cross to save us from our sins. He did not simply say, “You are saved”. Rather, He became man, suffered persecution, and ultimately sacrificed His life for our sake. He is asking us to follow His example. He showed His love for us through His words and His actions. So too should we show our love for Him and be “Christians of action and truth”.

May we remain set solidly on the rock that is Christ and the Church and may we put our trust in the One who gave His life for our Redemption.

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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.

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Pre Evangelization

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I love the fact that on the Feast of John the Baptist, the Gospel doesn’t talk about him as much as it does his parents. We hear the story of Zechariah and his lack of faith that caused his mouth to be closed, but then the proclamation that again opened his mouth in order to praise God.

One could see this moment in scripture as the pre-evangelization. We all know that John the Baptist came to preach the name of Jesus and to evangelize, but oftentimes we need someone to come even before that and soften our hearts with a miracle, a prayer, an exclamation, or even just simply sitting and being with us.

This was certainly the case for Zechariah. He was literally visited by the Lord and did not believe that God had the power to give them a son. He needed a little miracle before he was to believe anything his son would later proclaim about Jesus.

Think about your family right now. Who is that one person who needs you to step in with that pre-evangelization? That smile, that prayer, that hug, that miracle granted by the Lord. Sometimes showing our genuine care preaches the Gospel more than literally preaching from the Gospel.

I can remember one time in my life where I was speaking at a retreat and there was a kid attending who was making fun the whole time and being obnoxious. I basically wrote him off as someone who would not find the Lord. After adoration, I saw him crying in the corner and at first, I didn’t believe it was genuine, but I went over and asked him how he was doing. He broke down over the next hour telling me about the profound experience he had in adoration and how it changed his life.

This kid was listening through the talks. He may not have wanted to admit it at first, but his walls were breaking down, and then Jesus came and did the ultimate conversion.

Who is that person in your life that needs their walls broken down just a little so they can listen to the Lord? I pray we all find one today and reach out and ask how they are doing and if we can pray for them. It may make all the difference. God Bless!

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Tommy Shultz is Director of Evangelization for the North Allegan Catholic Collaborative and the founder of Rodzinka Ministries. In these roles, he is committed to bringing all those he meets into a deeper relationship with Christ. 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. With a degree in Theology from Franciscan University, Tommy hopes to use his knowledge to help all people understand the beauty of The Faith.

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The Narrow Gate

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The narrow gate. So narrow only the few find it.

When I hear those words my heart sinks. It’s the few. The smart. The strong. The brave. The good. The extra good. The virtuous. The contemplative souls. The self-sacrificing hearts.

That’s not me. Not me…again.

The narrow path makes me think I need to find it. And when I find it I need to stay on it.

But we all know what happens when we are walking on narrow paths.

We step off the path, or fall off the path.

We get so absorbed in staying on the path that we miss the flowers along the way. We forget who we are walking toward and who is walking at our side.

We get curious and take a bit of a detour, or a long detour. Maybe we turn back because it is frighteningly narrow at certain points.

When I look at my life I have to admit, that’s me.

And if the gate is narrow, we need to be thin, small, unencumbered, simple to fit through in order to get where we want to go.

We have to be so careful for the evil one can feed us so many lies that lead to desolation and depression. Lies like: You aren’t good enough. God can’t love you now after this. See you can’t make up for time lost on this or that detour. Admit it, this happened because God is angry with you.

Friends, what if the narrow path was meant to be a joyous announcement, not a moral measure?

Perhaps Jesus was saying:

“Yes the path is narrow, so narrow you can’t find it or stay on it yourself. In fact, I already know that.

“The narrowness of the path is not a measure of how perfectly you find or stay on some spiritual trajectory you’ve chosen through life.

“The narrowness is about those who come to realize, through the struggles and failures of their attempts to live in my love, that they need me.

“Because they realize they are helpless.

“And are willing to trust entirely in what I am doing in and through them, even when they see only their sins and failures. The narrowness is the blessing of those who, layer by layer, let go of all they think they need, or want, to be happy.”

Since your Baptism, God has been unfolding within you his life, his way, his Word in us. Taking you along his unique path for you.

It is only gradually that we are taught, mentored, led along, brought back after wandering, personally carried if necessary, broken and rebuilt, renewed, recreated.

Only Jesus knows that narrow path, and only he can carry us on it. It is so narrow there is no room for two. He brings us along in his arms, within his heart, offering us at last to the Father as the greatest treasure of his love, as brother, as sister, as co-heir, as son and daughter of the Father.

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Kathryn James Hermes, FSP, is the author of the newly released title: Reclaim Regret: How God Heals Life’s Disappointments, by Pauline Books and Media. An author and spiritual mentor, she offers spiritual accompaniment for the contemporary Christian’s journey towards spiritual growth and inner healing. She is the director of My Sisters, where people can find spiritual accompaniment from the Daughters of St. Paul on their journey.

Website: www.touchingthesunrise.com

Public Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/srkathrynhermes/

For monthly spiritual journaling guides, weekly podcasts and over 50 conferences and retreat programs join my Patreon community: https://www.patreon.com/srkathryn.

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You Are Not the Judge

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We are so quick to judge. Sometimes we are a harsh judge of ourselves but, more often than not, our gaze is turned outward as we choose to judge others instead. We try to offer up explanations as to why they (whoever they are) aren’t good enough or successful enough or worthy enough – using ourselves as the measuring stick. We can all admit instances where we’ve done this in the past.

For example, I used to serve as a room host at Franciscan so that prospective students could spend a night in my dorm room and get a taste of residence hall life. When I got my first-ever room-hosting assignment, you better believe that I wanted to know who this girl was so I looked her up on Facebook. What I found (a post that supported beliefs that contradict the Catholic faith) shaped my whole view of this student’s impending visit and I began to dread her arrival and also anticipate her departure from campus. I clearly thought that I was better than her since I upheld Catholic teaching and I also struggled to see how she would fit in on this holy hill if she did not embrace this particular teaching. That weekend ended up being one of the most notably fun weekends of the entire school year and, after this girl left, I broke down in tears. You see, I recognized the harm that was done in having judged someone. This moment has since stuck with me and will continue to be remembered for the rest of my life.

I share that example because of the “after effect,” that sorrow and remorse I felt in my heart for realizing that I was wrong in having judged that girl. Not to say that I am perfect – I am still human and, therefore, I still struggle with the desire to judge others – but this experience has helped me to stop and think about the consequences of my thoughts and actions. Unfortunately, though, I think that many people have never experienced the “after effects” of their judgments and, overall, I believe this tendency of ours to judge has led to a lot of trouble in our current culture. Society has become conditioned to judge based on skin color, tone of voice, gender, and many other things when it is not our place to judge anyone, ever, at all. We still need to learn to see each other as made in God’s image and likeness, to see each other as brothers and sisters in Christ, first and foremost.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus calls us to look inwardly, to not see the splinter in another’s eye but to actually (finally) notice the wooden beam sticking out of our own eye. In my case, the splinter was this girl’s stance on a particular Church teaching but the wooden beam in my eye is how I looked at her because of that teaching and the judgments I formed in my own heart. It may be a challenge but I would encourage you to start identifying the wooden beams in your life and work hard to remove them. True change cannot happen without interior work, a conversion of our own heart.

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Erin is a Cleveland native and graduate of the Franciscan University of Steubenville. Following graduation, she began volunteering in youth ministry at her home parish of Holy Family Church. Her first “big girl” job was in collegiate sports information where, after a busy two years in the profession on top of serving the youth, she took a leap of faith and followed the Lord’s call to full-time youth ministry at St. Peter Church. She still hopes to use her communication arts degree as a freelance writer and statistician, though. You can catch her on the Clarence & Peter Podcast on YouTube as well as follow her on Twitter @erinmadden2016.

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Has Christ Won?

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We all know the story of how sin and death entered into the world. Either being told as little children while we scanned the pictures of Eden, or understanding more as adults, we have all heard what happened so many years ago in the garden. We have probably all been in the same boat where we have anger for Adam and Eve and then immediately realize we sin time and time again. You don’t have to look very far to see that death and sin are having a field day in our world, but has death won?

In our second reading today we hear about how sin entered the world through one, but sin was also conquered by one. It’s this second truth that we all know in our mind, but the journey through our hearts to belief seems like a long and winding road filled with uncertainty and fear.

What if we, as Christians, actually believed with all our hearts that Jesus has won the battle? Would we be so preoccupied with the next thing that is happening in society? Would we be so worried about what will happen next? Would we have fear? There is a difference between healthy and unhealthy fear. Unhealthy fear seems to be the one that pushes us inside of the cavern of our insecurity and loneliness and leaves us there where we can despair. All alone, woe is me, there is no hope. Of course, we also know about healthy fear because we talk about a fear of God. This is a fear that inspires us to action. If we fear for the souls of those in our family, that fear inspires us to bring the good news to them.

In today’s world, I think we have become used to living with an unhealthy fear. We almost love it. It’s comfortable for us. It’s consistent. We know it is always there. But this is the anti-Gospel. Jesus reminds us that perfect love casts out all fear. Do we believe that? Now actually stop reading for 15 seconds, say come Holy Spirit, and ask yourself honestly if you believe it. Has that truth affected the way you interact with people on a regular basis? Has that truth inspired you to go outside of yourself and to serve and to love? Has that truth allowed you to look at the world as a vast landscape of potential, as opposed to a broken and worthless set of stairs that nobody could ever possibly climb?

Satan has lost the battle, death has lost its sting, sin has lost its power. If the world has forgotten this fact, then we are at least a little to blame. Let’s let love be our battle cry from here on out. The more that love dominates the heart, the less the heart experiences the inhuman trappings of sin and despair.

So let’s embrace fear, but let it be the fear that we don’t want to live without God, and we don’t want anyone else to experience that either. After all, the true saint does not find himself alone in heaven, he has brought his friends with him. God Bless!

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Tommy Shultz is Director of Evangelization for the North Allegan Catholic Collaborative and the founder of Rodzinka Ministries. In these roles, he is committed to bringing all those he meets into a deeper relationship with Christ. 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. With a degree in Theology from Franciscan University, Tommy hopes to use his knowledge to help all people understand the beauty of The Faith.

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What Month is it?

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In the fuzzy world between sleeping and waking this morning, I tried to figure out what month it is. My not quite fully conscious brain tried on different months for size, trying to determine which one fit, trying to make sense of the seemingly simple question, “What month is it?”

Recently, my husband and I had a full blown conversation over whether it was Monday or Tuesday. A colleague and I are trying to read a book about Theology of the Body. Do you think we can both remember our Zoom call on the same day? Not likely. And whatever you need me to do, if I don’t write it down, it isn’t going to happen. List making is now a full-time occupation. 

One of my summer joys is journal writing. Someplace in the middle of the school year, my daily writing habit gets left behind in an effort to get 20 minutes more sleep. This summer, my journal languishes beside my favorite chair, neglected. I tell myself what I tell my students, just write. It doesn’t matter what you say. It doesn’t matter if you just tell the page over and over that you don’t know what to write. Just write. 

Yet, this summer, in spite of my many to-do lists, my journal has only sporadic entries. My thinking which under normal circumstances is clarified by talking, by writing, by using my words, just isn’t. And maybe, that is the problem, my thinking, what am I supposed to think? Our world is in the midst of a pandemic. This is the stuff of movies with doctors who save the day in under two hours, not the stuff of neverending Tuesdays in June. 

Then there are shootings and protests, people looting and more shootings and people dying in our streets. We are facing the reality that our country founded on “all men are created equal” is not what we thought it was. There is the economy and dealing with hamburg which has tripled in price while our income hasn’t. Then feeling guilty because I am worried about the cost of hamburg when someone else has lost a father, brother, son. We are in a time of radical change in our country, much needed change but change that will only come through upheaval and tearing down and building new. Change is hard. So much change makes remembering the daily details difficult. 

I pray daily to do what God wills with my life but I seem to be stuck in a time of relative inaction. The news is full of people who are demonstrating, who are making a difference and I am finding it hard to even pray regularly. My prayers often end up as a repeated plea, “What do I do, Lord?” 

That is where I meet the Holy Family in today’s Gospel. This is a favorite Gospel story because I can vividly imagine Mary and Joseph as they realize Jesus isn’t in the family caravan. I know that heart-stopping feeling of finding out that all is not as you thought it was. I try to picture their hurried journey back to the city to look for Jesus. I know that tight feeling in the chest as you retrace your steps hoping against hope that your worst fears aren’t about to come true. I see them in my mind’s eye walking through the temple and seeing Jesus talking. They hesitate for a moment and listen to their son talking to men in the temple before he looks up and smiles at them, Mary says, “Son…” and Jesus replies, “Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” 

“But they did not understand what he said to them. He went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them, and his mother kept all these things in her heart.”

Perhaps, for me, this is not a time for grand action, but for quiet humility and obedience. Mary had been told who her son was, but she didn’t go shouting it from the rooftops. She waits for God’s time. Jesus was obedient. Mary kept these things in her heart. Maybe that’s it. In this time of upheaval and change and lost footing and no writing, I am to follow Jesus’s example and be humble, learning from others. Follow Mary’s example and keep these things in my heart. Just maybe God is preparing my heart for what comes next;  my heart of stone to be broken and replaced with his own loving heart. 

So for now, I need to:

Keep one foot in front of the other.
Pray the prayers.
Take care of those near me.
Attend Mass as often as possible.
Go to Adoration and pray at the feet of Jesus.
For goodness sake, limit social media.
Do the next right thing. 

My time for action will come and I will need to be ready. But it is God’s time, not mine. For now, I will be obedient. I will love each person I meet. I will hold all this in my heart, so when it’s His time, I will be ready. 

Wherever God is calling you during this turbulent time, may you find the peace that comes not from this world, but only by living for the next. 

May God bless you. Whatever month it is.

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Sheryl 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.

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Sacred Heart of Jesus, Have Mercy on Us

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I often fail to give myself a break. I beat myself up for the smallest things, perseverating on my lack of holiness. If I make one tiny mistake it turns into a mountain. I worry about being unworthy, not being lovable, and ultimately feel discouraged about my journey to sainthood.

On this Solemnity of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, we have an opportunity to look to Christ and His constant mercy. How is it possible that God can have endless mercy to shower upon all of us? I know this is a question I cannot fully answer or understand, but what I do know is that God’s Love is perfect and He is always there for us with His mercy, no matter what we may have done.

It is hard for me to accept this mercy from God, and it is even more difficult for me to show myself this mercy and love. I realize that I must show myself mercy if I am to grow in virtue. If I constantly put myself down it will be even harder to get back up on the road to holiness. If you are struggling to show yourself mercy invite God into these moments. With the help of God’s mercy in His Sacred Heart, we can learn to love ourselves for God’s glory and further trust in His perfect mercy.

“Trust the past to the mercy of God, the present to His love, and the future to His providence.” –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. She is the Director of Religious Education for the North Allegan Catholic Collaborative of parishes. 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 rodzinkaministry@gmail.com. 

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The Father Knows All Your Needs

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Before the world began – before God spoke creation into existence – we were CHOSEN. Chosen BY God, chosen FOR God.

“God chose us in him before the world began to be holy and blameless in his sight” (Eph 1).

Before the world began – before the Spirit hovered over the waters – God considered the possibility of each of us, decided on us, chose us to exist, desired us to be part of His amazing creation.

God willed each of us to BE. And His will is love.

Even more astounding, He RE-created us in the Blood of His only-begotten Son, through whom and for everything was created.

“All things were created through him and for him” (Col 1:16).

We were each made THROUGH Christ and FOR Christ, to remain IN Christ. And if we are IN HIM through Baptism, we are also children in the bosom of the Father, a child held close, held near, held dear.

“All things were made through him, and without him was not anything made that was made… to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become CHILDREN OF GOD” (John 1).

We are children of God! Jesus tells his disciples in today’s Gospel that “Your Father knows what you need before you ask him.” Of course, He does. We are His. We belong to Him. We are His children. He made us and loves us, with all of our gifts and gaffes. He knows everything, from the number of hairs on our head to why we threw a tantrum when we were in diapers to what we need today to be radiant in His grace. He knows us better than we know ourselves, and He alone can provide all we need to become what He creates and calls us to be. He IS love, and He loves us, and He provides all we need.

We are God’s children, born of love and loved by Him, begotten by Him in our faith in Christ, abiding in Him in our love for Christ and for one another.

“If we love one another, God abides in us and his love is perfected in us… Every one who believes that Jesus is the Christ has been born of God” (1 Jn 4-5).

Our belonging to God is eternal and irrevocable if we choose to do the hard work of loving as He loves.

Everything contrary to this is a lie of the Enemy of our souls.

We belonged to God before the world began. We will never stop belonging to Him. He knows all we need even before we ask, and His Fatherly desire is for us to put all our trust in Him as His children so that He can provide everything for us.

What is beyond the power of God? Nothing.
What is hidden from God? Nothing.
What can separate us from God’s love? Nothing.
What then can we fear? Nothing.

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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/.

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Spiritual Coffee

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This morning, as I stood in my lava water shower, I found myself thinking about how tired I was of being home. As an introvert, recharging at home is my jam. I enjoy being home and I enjoy being alone a good part of my day. Still, it’s been 93 days since I started social distancing and working from home (not that I’m counting…) and I am finally really missing people. 

Last weekend, I went out to lunch with a friend, and as we began wiping down our patio chairs and tables with the Clorox wipes we had brought with us, I struggled not to say hello with a hug. Then, as we repeated the same process before leaving, we both went in for a hug and stopped ourselves. Although we knew it was the smart and safe thing to do, we both felt a slight sadness. 

This kind of shocked me because that first experience of going out into the world and participating in what used to be totally normally dining was exactly what I used to shy away from. Now, I was craving it and embracing it — from 6 feet apart, of course. As much as COVID has taken away from me, it’s also given me a new appreciation and yearning for friendship and exploring the world outside my four walls. 

I think our spiritual life needs this kind of reminder and re-awakening too. When we fall into comfortable routines and begin to take our relationship with God for granted, we need a spiritual coffee to wake us up. That’s why when my friend reached out to me and asked if I wanted to do an 11-week Catholic book group with her, I said yes before even asking about the book’s title. Within a couple of hours, I had purchased the Walking with Purpose book and paid for rapid shipping. 

It’s these kinds of opportunities that we should jump at, especially in these times of social distancing. It’s the perfect way to ease yourself back into your community of faith as churches begin to reopen. The best part is that there are so many self-guided or templated ways to have a Catholic book study/group, so you won’t have to wait for your parish to get it started. Then, once you’re comfortable with book studies/groups, try hosting an open one with your parish. 

Like so many others that get tired in their faith, we just drink the spiritual coffee (not the Kool-Aid) and reinvigorate ourselves with the excitement of faith through friendship and connection. 

Not sure how to start? 

Not sure what to read?

Veronica Alvarado is a born and raised Texan currently living in Michigan. Since graduating from Texas A&M University, Veronica has published various articles in the Catholic Diocese of Austin’s official newspaper, the Catholic Spirit, and other local publications. She now works as the Content Specialist in Diocesan’s Web Department.

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This is the Person I am Called to Love

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One of the gifts of middle age (there has to be some compensation for entering the heavy-maintenance years, after all!) is the gift of perspective. My needs and wants—and the ability to discern which is which—have shifted, and I’ve become wiser about them and the place they have in my life.

I’ve never been exactly a fashionista, but all the same when I moved to a smaller home and had to do some thinning-out of my possessions, I was shocked at how many articles of clothing I owned. Four green sweaters, really? Five different pairs of boots? Or let’s talk about books: do I really need to own every single book I’ve ever read and loved? How about the kitchen: when was the last time I used those three different appliances that all do the same thing?

That voice of wisdom was one of the voices inside my head. But there was another voice, too, one that was running scared: what will I do without them? Who will I be without these things? I felt that somehow there was some security in ownership, that the mere fact of having these possessions rooted and grounded me. For a long time those two voices were warring inside me. It was a dialogue, but I wasn’t ever sure exactly which side was winning.

And that brings us to today’s readings. Whenever I read the Old Testament in general, honestly, it’s sometimes with a little scorn. What was it with these Israelites, anyway, that they were always turning from God to worship at some other altar? A gold calf? What’s that about? It always seemed so far removed from my own experience that I put it down to cultural differences and moved on.

Not a good idea.

In today’s first reading, we open with a confrontation: King Ahab of Israel has murdered a fellow called Naboth and taken possession of Naboth’s vineyard, and the prophet Elijah comes to tell the king that God is unhappy with the situation. Ahab has become “completely abominable by following idols.”

I’ve studied enough history to know that in many—if not most—ancient cultures, what Ahab did wasn’t out of the ordinary. You kill someone, you get their stuff. But as God continued to gradually reveal himself through time, his people were slowly coming around to deeper and more complex concepts of justice and fairness. This wasn’t about the way things have always been done; this was about finding a new way, a way where you can’t just kill someone and take what they have. It’s still an ideal that isn’t always followed.

Ahab, we note, also followed idols. We’re not told which kind, we’re just told it was wrong. God had to come first.

I’m not substituting my possessions for idols here; obviously I never believed any of my green sweaters was more important than God. But in feeling I had the right to ownership of all these things, in letting myself be in some obscure way be defined by what I owned, wasn’t I in a way worshipping myself? Saying my needs, my security, my tastes come first?

I’m starting to think so.

The Bible is the story of God gradually revealing himself to his people—we see more and more of him through his encounters with Noah, with Abraham, with Moses, on up through his most complete revelation of himself in Christ. And in today’s Gospel, Jesus seizes on this revelation of a new way of thinking, a new way of being, when he says, it’s not enough to love people who love you back, it’s not enough to love people who are just like you. You have to love everybody. You have the love the people you feel at home with and the people who challenge your comfort levels. All of them, all the time.

In the past weeks, we’ve all been challenged. By people who think and feel and look different from us. These times have made us confront and question our own beliefs and assumptions. We’re getting into passionate conversations about everything from whether or not to wear a mask in public to whether every person, regardless of the color of their skin, should have the same rights. And I can hear Jesus, standing next to me when I get into an argument with someone whose opinion doesn’t coincide with mine: this is the person you are called to love.

This is the person I am called to love.

I managed in the end to sort through my stuff. I ended up giving most of it away. These days I live in a cottage that measures 317 square feet, and I inhabit it comfortably. I’m learning that there’s no security in ownership, whether it’s of possessions or a false sense of privilege.

And, every day, I’m praying to grow in love… of everyone.

Contact the author

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.