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Our Lady Of Sorrows

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“‘Woman, behold, your son.’ Then he said to the disciple, ‘Behold your mother.'”

Biblical historians generally agree on which disciple this was of the twelve. Yet, he is not recorded with a specific name. As Catholics, who embrace Mary as our Spiritual Mother, we know that this disciple stands in for all of us, the disciples to follow. Jesus gave us his own
physical Mother to be our Spiritual Mother. Jesus told Mary to behold us. Mary doesn’t just see us, Mary beholds us. Mary beholds you. Yes you, she sees you as someone impressive and worthy of attention. She sees your heart, your efforts, not only the
results. She beholds me too and loves me in spite of my double chin, an extra 30 pounds and my often failed attempts to be a good daughter of the King.

Today is the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows, right smack dab in the middle of September, a whole month devoted to remembering and consoling Mary in her sorrows. Mary voluntarily suffered right along with Jesus and experienced his pain as only a mother can feel the pain and suffering of her children. So, too, Mary is now feeling our pain, our sorrow, our grief in the midst of so much upheaval and hurt.
At the halfway point in a month dedicated to consoling our Mother in her grief, what can we do?

Are we adding to her pain or are we bringing healing and peace?
In preparing for Consecration to Mary, St. Louis de Montfort presents Mary as the Queen we can approach even when we may be afraid to approach the King. When a lowly servant had a gift for a king, the servant might approach the queen to present the gift on his behalf. What might have been a small, lowly gift, when presented by a queen on a golden platter becomes rich beyond what is visible. So too, Mary presents us to the King. She takes our meager gifts, the small sacrifices we offer up and presents them to our King, God himself in such a way that they become the finest gifts in all creation.

So what happens when we make a gift of our whole self? When Mary beholds you, when she beholds me, she takes whatever gift we can offer and burnishes it, cleans it up, makes it worthy of the King. When we go even further and make a gift of our whole selves, not just the bits and pieces we are comfortable showing, Mary takes us and presents our gift of self in the finest fashion. When Mary, as the Mediatrix of all Grace, sees that we intend to do God’s will, she
strengthens us, she intercedes for us, she will help us live out that good intention when we are unable to do it on our own.

So what if we each starting beholding each other? What if we focused on the gift that God created each one of us to be? What if we used our time, talent and treasure to be a small oasis of peace and healing for each other in a crazy, crazy world? Just think how much consolation we could bring to Mary and to each other.

While wearing many hats, Sheryl O’Connor is the wife and study buddy of Thomas O’Connor. Not having received the gift of having their own children, their home is filled with 2 large dogs and their hearts with the teens and youth with whom they work in their parish collaborative. Sheryl is the Director of Strong Families Programs for Holy Family Healthcare which means her job is doing whatever needs to be done to help parents build strong Catholic families. Inspired by the works of mercy, Holy Family Healthcare is a primary health care practice in West Michigan which seeks to honor the dignity of every individual as we would Christ. Find out more at https://www.holyfamilyhealthcare.org/

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The Triumph Of The Cross

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The cross. The Triumph of the Cross. The hymns sung at Mass today will be triumphant, glorious, majestic. Triumph. For a minute we might forget the reality of our crosses as we focus on the meaning of Christ’s triumphant self-gift on the wooden cross planted on Calvary and at once extending as a bridge between heaven and earth.

But just so that we don’t forget, the Church gives us a very carefully selected set of readings today. First Reading: the Israelites were beginning to regret leaving Egypt. Impatient and exhausted they asked Moses, “Where is the food? Where is the water? Are we going to be left to die here in this desert?” The Lord could possibly have “felt” some regret over having chosen this people—now so angry and distrustful of his love and power—to be his people, his dear possession more precious to him than any other people. This is the people with whom he made a covenant of everlasting love which he promised never to revoke. In punishment for their complaining, the Lord sent saraph serpents among them.

In the second reading, an ancient hymn of the early Church, the carmen Christi or Christ-hymn, we see the magnificence of a man who went straight to his betrayal and death, the Son of God who complained neither against God nor man, who suffered as the Servant for the sake of the lives of those who had wandered far, very far, from his Father, with no real ability to return on their own to his heart.

In the Gospel, it is clear that this Christ is the One lifted high—as the “saraph serpent” lifted up by Moses—that anyone who believed in him might have—once again—eternal life. God did this, for the world that had rejected him, out of love for them. In the mystery of the cross, there is no resentment or regret, but only the self-forgetful good brought about for the other at one’s own personal cost.

The crosses that break into our lives break open our hearts, and in the broken pieces of our dreams and the shattered images we had of God and ourselves, the poison of unacknowledged, unwelcome resentment, confusion, and regret is drawn out. It is a good thing. Without the desert grumbling, we would not know what our wounded fearful hearts harbor. We would not look to the Christ hanging on the cross for our healing. We would not at last breathe deeply of a love that won’t let us go, a love that could only be divine. And at last, then, we too will learn to love divinely.

Regrets are complicated things for human hearts are wounded, wounding, and oh so tired at times. But the Feast of the Triumph of the Cross is yet today for us personally and for all of us together the healing radiance of the Christ who bears the heavy burden of our weighty sorrow because he loves us and can’t let us go.

May the responsorial Psalm ring out through our hearts: Remember the works of the Lord!

Kathryn James Hermes, FSP, is 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 draws from the spiritual tradition and her own lived experience to lead seekers deep within themselves and through their personal history to deepen their intimacy with and trust in God; live with greater joy, peace, and
interior freedom; and encounter the Lord in their past and present life experiences to find healing, grace, and newness of life. She is the director of My Sisters, where people can find spiritual accompaniment from the Daughters of St. Paul on their journey.

Website:
touchingthesunrise.com.

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

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Fully Known, Fully Loved

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“O LORD, you have probed me and you know me.”

Today’s readings bring a wave of peace, acceptance, and intimacy over me. My mind wanders to all the ways our world tries to hide.  We sometimes put on masks of confidence. We cover up our blemishes, we try to hide our failures. We feel the constant need to be perfect and sometimes we pretend that we are.  We are afraid to be truly seen and truly known.

Personally, it has taken a long time for me to feel comfortable in my own skin. At a young age, I struggled with an eating disorder. In high school, I would wake up at an ungodly hour to do my hair and makeup for the day. Fast forward to college, my roommates and best friends had to hide my makeup when I decided to give it up for Lent.  I’m constantly battling between being seen as I am or as I wish to be.

Throughout the years I have learned to be just as confident with a bare face as I am all done up.

I have learned to love my body and take care of it.

But sometimes, I still struggle to be seen. Not so much with physical appearance anymore, but more so spiritually. I get anxious to show God my bare heart. The heart that isn’t always pretty and glamorous.  The heart that aches and hurts. I worry that there’s too many blemishes, too much nonsense for Him to handle, the same old garbage on this heart again and again— just too much”.

The wave of beauty and affirmation that washes over me sings:

“O LORD, you have probed me and you know me; you know when I sit and when I stand; you understand my thoughts from afar… I give you thanks that I am fearfully and wonderfully made; wonderful are your works. See if my way is crooked, and lead me in the way of old.”

When I think of those who know me deeply, memories of best friends flash before my eyes. Times when you know someone so well that you can give them a look and they know exactly what you are thinking. I can recall times where I believed no one understood me.  Not one person could relate to me and I was isolated and alone.

How mind-blowing it is to recall the TRUTH that God sees me and He knows me. There is not one day or one second that I can be misunderstood, unseen, or ignored. He knows my every moment, my every thought and my every word. He has not made us bad or imperfect, but GOOD. He has made us  FEARFULLY and WONDERFULLY.

It takes courage to let the Lord love you. To see your bare heart no longer hidden or cover it up. It takes vulnerability. When this happens we can grow in love and intimacy with the Lord. Someone once told me intimacy sounds like “ into me see”. This is fitting because when you allow yourself to be seen- love builds.

If your heart is crooked today, do not fear.

He desires to lead you and make your path straight.

He sees you- He knows you.  He loves you.

Briana is a Catholic Doctrine teacher at Our Lady of Mt. Carmel school in Cleveland, OH. She received her Bachelor of Arts in Theology and Catechetics from the Franciscan University of Steubenville, OH and is excited to use these skills to bring her students closer to Christ and His Church. “My soul has been refined and I can raise my head like a flower after a storm.” -St. Therese

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The Fitness Plan

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The Gospel is calling us to choose suffering so we can be detached from creation and be more like our Creator, Love, and inherit eternal life.

I used to think and hope that heaven was just a divine junket that goes on forever and ever and ever. But then it’d just sound like a snobby, exclusive club reserved for the all-star religious people whom God likes most.

And that is not heaven (so far as I can tell).

The angels and saints seem to have an extensive to-do list. The number of Marian apparitions and miracles by saintly intervention are proof that those in heaven don’t have their feet up on some celestial shoreline and drinking a cold one. They are very involved with the Church.

“I will spend my heaven doing good on earth.”

-St. Therese of Lisieux

So why should we choose to suffer? To weep, to be poor, to endure hate?

Because by choosing to suffer, we prepare for the eternal exchange of love.

I like to think of the spiritual, psychological and even bodily suffering that Christ invites us to endure as God’s divine workout plan.

Lifting weights and running don’t always feel great, but when we need to rely on our health and strength for a competition, we understand why it was necessary to endure the discomfort of exercising.

Similarly, the discomforts that Christ talks about will prepare us for heaven. It is by choosing to be poor, to weep, to sacrifice status for His name’s sake that we prepare for an eternity of loving.

“The world offers you comfort but you were not made for comfort. You were made for greatness.”

-Pope Benedict XVI

You were made for heaven.

You were made to love.

During the week, Matthew Juliano is a mentor for individuals who have developmental and intellectual disabilities. On the weekends, he is a drummer for Full Armor Band. You can find more content by Matt and his band at www.fullarmorband.com.

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A Few Good Men And Women

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“Jesus departed to the mountain to pray, and he spent the night in prayer to God. When the day came, he called his disciples to himself, and from them, he chose Twelve, whom he also named Apostles…”

We make many decisions in our lives, almost on an hourly basis. Some are as simple as choosing what we want for lunch, and some as serious as whom we will marry, or how we will handle crises. It takes knowledge of ourselves to make decisions. It also, very often, takes a bit of help from someone else. For us, as Christians, that help should come, first and foremost, from Jesus. Therefore, it starts with prayer.

Jesus did just this. He was well into his ministry when he needed to choose the men who would carry on after his ascension, so he went to the mountain to pray. Connection with his Father is just what he needed before calling forth the Twelve. It also strengthened him for the task of caring for those who came to him for healing. The multitudes, the great crowds.

And what of the Twelve? Twelve simple, ordinary men who labored in various professions. For most, no formal education. For most, good men of Israel who just wanted to live a peaceful life with their families and friends. It was not to be. We look at these Twelve and wonder how, as often the Gospel tells us, Jesus could abide their dimwittedness and, at times, argumentative attitudes. From Peter’s boastful brashness and weakness to Thomas’ doubt or Judas Iscariot’s betrayal, you have to wonder how the Church ever came to be. Just what did Jesus see in them? Apparently, quite a bit!

The same could be said of us. What does Jesus see in us? As often as we want to believe that we are not worthy of the work we are asked to do for him, Jesus sees into our hearts as no one else can. He sees the qualities needed, as he did with the Twelve if only we would also believe. We are ordinary men and women of faith who want to live peaceful, quiet lives with our families and friends. But – as with the Twelve – Jesus may be asking more of us. We, today, are the few good men and women the church needs. The “pew people” as I like to call us, are the strength and the conscience of the Church. We are needed, sometimes, more than we want to acknowledge.

Go first to prayer, as Jesus did. Garner the strength and grace needed to carry on the work of the Apostles. The Church will be better for it, and so will we, because Jesus will see past our sometimes dimwittedness, argumentative natures, sometimes weakness and doubt, and even, at times, betrayal to the graces offered. All will eventually be good in his eyes.

And lest we forget, God Bless the souls of the few good men and women first responders to the 9/11 terror attack, remembered today. Whether they were people of faith or not, Jesus gave them the strength to answer the call to duty, even to the loss of their own lives. Can any of us do less in less grave circumstances?

God Bless

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

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Compassionate Like Our Lord

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Today’s readings speak about following the light. We are called to clear out our boastful, prideful, wicked, immoral, malicious ways (yes, all of these in the reading from 1 Cor 5) so that we may be clean, and led in justice to hear his voice and follow the Lord.

I find my human nature relies heavily on the sacraments and scriptures to be vigilantly clean, helping me to avoid the sins listed above. It is so easy to fall into old habits or be caught up in gossip and judgemental conversations (which, of course, leads to my being boastful or full of pride in my own virtue, nay, lack thereof). How many times have I made a snide remark, oh so cautiously said to my companions who nod in agreement with my negative comment? Would Jesus speak this way about his friends? Would God want me to attack my neighbor with little criticisms that undercut that person’s confidence or relationship with a spouse, child, co-worker or neighbor?

I can think of too many situations where I have witnessed a situation where someone in the group has been spoken to in a way that you can visibly see their confidence wither or the light in their eyes change. How many times have I neglected to speak out or intervene in the group, or go console the one affected after the fact? Does that make me the ‘goody two shoes’ or ‘girl scout,’ that I have been accused of before?. Being a bully, hurting no matter how well-intentioned the teasing may be if the recipient is hurt by it, is bullying. Unless you really know someone’s personal history, you may not be aware of what deep seeded hurt you may have unintentionally brought to mind.

Being compassionate is one of the reasons I follow Jesus. Jesus, in compassion for the man with the withered hand, healed him on the Sabbath in front of the scribes and Pharisees. Jesus knew they would be angry because he broke the law (of not working on the Sabbath) to help the man who would have been viewed as unclean due to the deformity of a withered hand. He was living the new law, to love your neighbor as yourself.

Today is part of Rosh Hashanah, a ten-day period of the Days of Awe, and a time for introspection and casting out of sins in the Jewish faith. I find myself thinking of the thief at Jesus’ left hand at Gethsemane. He knew he was not worthy, yet spoke up in Jesus’ defense to his companion in crime, the thief on the right. Jesus pardoned him and told him he would join him in paradise. May each of us continue to ask for pardon when we sin and cause others to suffer or sin. May we hear the Lord’s voice and follow him as he leads us in justice, truth and light.

Beth Price is a Secular Franciscan (OFS) and spiritual director who has worked in several parish ministry roles during the last 20 years. She is a proud mother of 3 adult children. Beth currently works at Diocesan. You can contact her at bprice@diocesan.com.

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Personal Faith

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Jesus is preaching and healing in Gentile cities, areas that are contemptible to the Jews. He has already offered the Gospel to Israel, and now he is bringing his glorious Good News to those “outside” the Chosen People. All nations are invited into the way of salvation.

In the cure of the deaf man described in today’s Gospel, we see first that the people “begged him” to lay his hand upon the man and cure him, a kind of prayer of petition. Jesus takes the man aside, away from the multitude, and Mark is very specific about what happens when they are in private: “he put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue, and looking up to heaven, he sighed, and said to him, ‘Ephphatha,’ that is, ‘Be opened.’”

Again we see that Jesus preaches to the multitude, but he heals people one on one: he speaks to them, touches them, even puts his fingers into their ears and mouth. In another story, he mixes his own saliva with dirt and puts mud in a blind man’s eyes! These events illustrate Jesus’ “incarnational” presence to us. He – the invisible God – became flesh, and he respects the nature he has given us and uses material things to accomplish spiritual purposes as an affirmation of our bodiliness.

How does this apply today? Jesus’ healing still comes to us through words and matter in the sacraments. We sometimes inadvertently reduce the sacraments to “rites of passage” marking our maturing in the Church. They are that, but we miss the essential point when we stop short of seeing that sacraments are Christ’s way of remaining with us throughout time. Through the person of the minister, Jesus is present to us; he speaks to us, touches us, heals us, and calls us into a relationship.

And the sacraments are administered to us one on one. The deacon or priest doesn’t fling water from the baptismal font and hope it hits the right person! We assent to Baptism, and then it is administered to us BY NAME: “I baptize you, Kathryn Therese, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” When we come forward for Communion, there isn’t a basket of bread there and we grab a hunk. We come forward as individuals in need of the nourishment of the Bread of Life; we must personally assent to this Truth by our “Amen,” and then it is given, not taken – we “receive” Holy Communion. There is no rite of “Confirmation en masse”; the bishop anoints each individual by name. We confess our sins individually to the priest, and we are personally absolved of them.

When we see Jesus’ healings in the Gospel, we should not see them as distant events. Rather, let us see them as illustrations of Jesus’ presence to us, right here and right now in the sacraments of the Church, and give thanks.

Kathryn is married to Robert, mother of seven, grandmother to two, and a lay Carmelite. She has worked as a teacher, headmistress, catechist, Pastoral Associate, and DRE, and also as a writer and voice talent for Holy Family Radio. Currently, she serves the Church as a writer and presenter, and by collaborating with the diocesan Office of Faith Formation, individual parishes, and Catholic ministries to lead others to encounter Christ and engage their faith. Learn more at www.kathryntherese.com or on Facebook @summapax.

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A Humble Strength

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I have always had a deep devotion to my confirmation saint, St. Joseph. We know very little about St. Joseph, but in today’s readings, we hear some of the only written accounts of this great saint. It has just been announced that Mary shall bear a son.

“When his mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph,
but before they lived together,
she was found with child through the Holy Spirit.
Joseph her husband, since he was a righteous man,
yet unwilling to expose her to shame,
decided to divorce her quietly.”

Many saints and scholars have commented on the fact that this verse does not necessarily mean that Joseph was going to divorce her because he believed she had been with another man. This is an understanding that some read into this text. But many have written about this idea that Joseph knew that Mary had conceived of the Holy Spirit and he did not feel worthy, after all, he was chosen to be the earthly father of Jesus, no small task.

To distance Mary from any shame and because he did not feel worthy, he decided to divorce her quietly. But God had different plans.

“Joseph, son of David,
do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home.
For it is through the Holy Spirit
that this child has been conceived in her.
She will bear a son and you are to name him Jesus,
because he will save his people from their sins.”

And here we have Joseph’s fiat, his yes to God. Though he must have felt unworthy, he was now betrothed to a sinless virgin who was carrying God in her womb; he trusted that God would provide him with strength.

A few days ago I reflected on humility. I think today’s readings keep that discussion going beautifully. I think we often think of humility as something that is weak, we are made small and so we act small. I know I struggle with that sometimes. But here we have Joseph being given the grace to help our Savior through His earliest days. What amazing strength and courage it must have taken Joseph to say yes, a yes that could only come through the grace of God.

So again we see this utter reliance on God, our unworthiness made perfect in God, and from that came pure strength. If we keep in mind that everything begins and ends with God, then we should not be afraid to boast in the Lord. Humility is not hiding the great things God is doing in our lives, but it’s bringing them to light so people can see that it is not just us and our strength, but it is God making us worthy and giving us grace.

Let us ask for the grace of continued humility and the strength to give our important yes to God. Amen!

Tommy Shultz is a Solutions Evangelist for Diocesan. In that role, he is committed to coaching parishes and dioceses on authentic and effective Catholic communication. Tommy has a heart and a flair for inspiring people to live their faith every day. He has worked in various youth ministry, adult ministry, and diocesan roles. He has been a featured speaker at retreats and events across the country. His mission and drive have been especially inspired by St. John Paul II’s teachings. Tommy is blessed to be able to learn from the numerous parishes he visits and pass that experience on in his presentations. Contact him at tshultz@diocesan.com.

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Changed For Good

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Change is hard. Change means switching things up and usually, it means no longer doing what is easy or comfortable. Then again, change can be easy if the ultimate reason is worth it. A coach I had in high school once said that if we weren’t running towards a personal goal, we’d end up walking. He was trying to motivate us for our first cross-country run of the season, but it sounds profound enough to be applied to the rest of our lives.

For example, if you want to “be healthy” and do not set goals, you may struggle with the physical and dietary changes that come with it. This is why it typically takes a doctor’s news or a life-changing realization to make healthy changes. In trying to be healthy, we have to create new habits that align with our goals, otherwise, everything falls apart.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus reminds us that change is good. He reminds us that change leads to better things and that once we realize just how good change is, we won’t want to go back. In terms of physical health, he is saying that once we feel the energy from eating healthy/exercise, we won’t want to go back to our bad habits. The goal is worth the change.

So what about our spiritual lives?

Is heaven worth the change? Is everlasting life worth biting your tongue when today isn’t going your way? Is unending love from Our Creator worth giving 100% of your focus to Sunday’s Mass?

I say of course, but have I changed my habits and realigned every aspect of my life to line up with my goals? Probably not. It is easy to do one good thing a day, but it is harder to change your life so that every one of your actions gives glory to God.

Maybe it starts with a prayer as soon as you wake up. Take that sunrise prayer and continue it throughout the day. Pray for your loved ones, the strangers, and most importantly, pray for your enemies. Pray with love. Pray with forgiveness. Pray with peace. Let the change be worth it.

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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Trust In Him

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Today’s Gospel from Luke has so much activity that it can be hard to see beyond the surface: the lake, the boats, the crowd, the nets, the catch, and finally, the fishermen leaving their fishing behind.

It was helpful to me to see this from several perspectives: the crowd, Simon Peter, and Jesus.

The crowd is eager to hear this rabbi standing on the shore, so eager that their movement toward him keeps pushing him toward the water until he decides to get into a boat in order to preach. When he is finished speaking, do some of those people remain, hoping he will begin speaking again? Do some of them go back to the duties of their lives? How many witness the miraculous catch of fish?

Simon Peter is weary from a fruitless night of fishing and catching nothing, but when the Lord gets into his boat, he obliges and rows out a little way, and waits. Then Jesus issues a strange command for him to lower his nets (which Simon had been washing because he was already done fishing) for a catch. This is absurd. Fish are not caught this late in the morning, and Simon Peter, always quick with a retort, tells him that this will be useless; then, perhaps catching himself, says, “but at your command, I will lower the nets.” And the nets are overfilled with fish, so many that the nets are tearing and they need help from others to bring them in. Their boats are so full, they are in danger of sinking! Simon Peter is not weary anymore; every fiber of his being is now engaged! Then, overwhelmed at this inexplicable and exhausting event and regretting his initial doubt, he falls on his knees to confess his utter unworthiness to be in Jesus’ presence.

Jesus, ever the teacher, is teaching as we enter this scene. When he finishes preaching, he is still teaching; he wants to teach these first disciples an essential lesson, not about fishing, but about mission and evangelization. He tells them to do something rather ridiculous – after a night of fruitless labor, Jesus tells them to labor a little more. Then he fills their nets to overflowing and responds to the openness of Peter’s confession with a prophetic word: “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men.”

What can we learn?

  • From the crowds, we learn to keep our eyes on Jesus; everything he does is overflowing with meaning!
  • From Peter, we learn to TRUST Jesus, and obediently continue working even when things seem fruitless; if Peter had refused to put out his nets again, Jesus could not have filled them!
  • From Jesus, we learn that the work is all HIS, so we need not be afraid of what he calls us to do, nor of our apparent fruitlessness; our efforts will bear fruit according to his will, if we are willing to leave everything and follow him unreservedly.

Kathryn is married to Robert, mother of seven, grandmother to two, and a lay Carmelite. She has worked as a teacher, headmistress, catechist, Pastoral Associate, and DRE, and also as a writer and voice talent for Holy Family Radio. Currently, she serves the Church as a writer and presenter, and by collaborating with the diocesan Office of Faith Formation, individual parishes, and Catholic ministries to lead others to encounter Christ and engage their faith. Learn more at www.kathryntherese.com or on Facebook @summapax.

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Worth and Reliance

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I have always struggled with humility. I think it is because I am such a positive person and for a long time I saw humility as putting ourselves down; we are just measly worms who can do nothing right. I have come to realize through reflection, prayer, and the readings of the saints, that true humility is not about our unworthiness as much as it is about our utter dependence. A mathematician can expound on the smartest equations known to man, and he/she is worthy of doing so, but he/she is dependant on the theories that have come before.

In today’s first reading St. Paul’s words hit hard. “I could not talk to you as spiritual people, but as fleshly people, as infants in Christ. I fed you milk, not solid food, because you were unable to take it.” Immediately my mind goes positive about my worth, “Hey, I am not just a child. I can handle the truth. I went to Franciscan for Theology so, I know my stuff.”

Then reality sets in and I realize that I have complete dependence on my Lord and God. Every movement, every breath, every second of study, is due to God keeping me in existence, holding me in His arms, keeping me in His heart. I am dependent on the God who gave me my worth. As human beings, we are made with the utmost dignity and deserve respect, but we also need to realize that in relation to God and the entire cosmos we are just a speck of paint in the beautiful painting that we know as humanity.

God does not need us, but He sure wants us. He has given us dignity, talents, a heart capable of true charity, and an immortal soul all of which need to be exercised as the gifts they are. Our worth is vast, our dependence total.

This point is hit home by Jesus in today’s Gospel as he performs miracles. We need signs as human beings don’t we? We like proof that God is who He says He is.

We should be able to look at how incredibly we have been created and learn of the goodness of God, but often we don’t. We should be able to admit our reliance on God, but often we want to prove our worth by neglecting the one who created it. Our worth and reliance should be apparent, but we need help to see.

Jesus performs these signs to help us, to love us, but they should also show us that He is in control. This is true humility, seeing our infinite worth, and our complete reliance. Let us pray for the gift of humility and thank God for creating us in His image and likeness. Amen!

Tommy Shultz is a Solutions Evangelist for Diocesan. In that role, he is committed to coaching parishes and dioceses on authentic and effective Catholic communication. Tommy has a heart and a flair for inspiring people to live their faith every day. He has worked in various youth ministry, adult ministry, and diocesan roles. He has been a featured speaker at retreats and events across the country. His mission and drive have been especially inspired by St. John Paul II’s teachings. Tommy is blessed to be able to learn from the numerous parishes he visits and pass that experience on in his presentations. Contact him at tshultz@diocesan.com.

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The Conquering Healer

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One of my favorite books in high school was Bram Stoker’s “Dracula.” There was one detail of the story in particular that intrigued me. Dracula, even though he was spectacularly powerful, couldn’t enter someone’s house unless he was invited in. I was reminded of that detail recently when I read Bishop Barron’s reflection on the abuse and coverup surrounding Archbishop McCarrick. Bishop Barron spoke about how sexual abuse within the Church is truly demonic activity before saying:

“Now I can hear people saying, ‘So Bishop Barron is blaming it all on the devil.’ Not at all. The devil works through temptation, suggestion, and insinuation—and he accomplishes nothing without our cooperation.”

The devil accomplishes nothing without our cooperation. A fallen angel of light, a pure spirit that’s unbound by time and space, needs our consent, our freedom, to accomplish his work. In “Theology for Beginners,” the apologist Frank Sheed spoke of Satan and original sin this way:


“The disease admitted into humanity by the choice of self against God was given every chance to run its course, work out its logic. God’s providence did not desert man; those who implored him were not left unaided; but it was Satan’s carnival all the same. He had gained no rights by his success over Adam, but he had gained immense power; he was the prince that this world obeyed.”

It was Adam’s free choice to reject God that gave Satan power over this world, and it’s our free choices to reject God that allow Satan to continue his rule. But God left our original parents with hope. God said that one day a descendant of Eve would crush the head of the serpent. And that son of Eve is who we see at work in the Gospel reading today.

If you look at the ministry of Jesus in all the Gospels, you will see a conqueror, a king returning to reclaim territory from his enemy. Jesus does this by revealing himself first and foremost as a healer. He undoes the effects of sin by bringing peace to the suffering, health to the sick, life to the dead, and freedom to the possessed. Jesus spoke with the power and authority of God to not only heal his people but to glorify them. “For the Son of God became man so that we might become God” (Catechism 460).

After Jesus ascended to Heaven, he sent the Holy Spirit to heal, empower, and glorify his people. I think that we need to forget the idea of going to Heaven after we die. Heaven is union with God, participation in God’s divine nature, and that begins now! As soon as we are baptized, we become members of Christ’s Body, heirs to the Father’s divine life, and we receive God’s supernatural life within us – grace. Every sacrament is efficacious because of the power of the Holy Spirit, and it’s the grace we receive from the Sacraments that transforms us into the likeness of Christ. At every Mass, as he mixes the water and wine, the priest says, “By the mystery of the water and wine may we come to share in the divinity of Christ who humbled himself to share in our humanity.”

Therefore we are given the same power and authority of Christ. With the name of Jesus, we can do not only the same things He did but greater things. The Act of the Apostles is one account after another of the mere men doing the work of Christ. As Saint Paul says in the first reading today, the Spirit has given each of us “the mind of Christ.”

But, remarkably, all of this rests on our free will. Just as it is through our choices that Satan has power in this world, so it is through our choices that we can accept grace and do powerful works in Jesus’ name. In “Mere Christianity,” C.S. Lewis says:

“Every time you make a choice you are turning the central part of you, the part of you that chooses, into something a little different than it was before. And taking your life as a whole, with all your innumerable choices, all your life long you are slowly turning this central thing into a heavenly creature or a hellish creature: either into a creature that is in harmony with God, and with other creatures, and with itself, or else into one that is in a state of war and hatred with God, and with its fellow creatures, and with itself. To be the one kind of creature is heaven: that is, it is joy and peace and knowledge and power. To be the other means madness, horror, idiocy, rage, impotence, and eternal loneliness. Each of us at each moment is progressing to the one state of the other.”

Will we choose to let Dracula in the door? Will we choose to make Satan prince of our life and prince of this world? Or will we choose to accept the supernatural life that Jesus offers us and let him heal the effects of sin in our own lives and in the world?

Paul Fahey is a husband, father, and a parish director of religious education. He can be found at his website, Rejoice and be Glad: Catholicism in the Pope Francis Generation.