Catholic News & Perspective

We now know more about the effects of abuse

Mon, 04 Sep 2023 07:00:00 GMT

Somebody who knows the history of the problem should write a book, or give an interview, or go on television, or do something, because a vital part of the clergy sex abuse story is never told and opinions are distorted.

Catholic bishops and religious superiors who acted, or failed to act, when cases of sexual abuse of youth occurred in the past regularly, almost inevitably, are condemned for wantonly tolerating cases, moving offending priests from one place to another, sweeping cases under the rug and failing to notify law enforcement.

All this too often was true, but until not much more than a generation ago, these Church officials reacted exactly as professionals; “experts” advised them to act according to the way people of the time — not all of them bad by any means — thought.

Lay employees who abused youth invariably were fired and went their way. Priests, or women religious, were not just ignored, but since their misconduct was seen as a moral failing, not as a psychiatric disorder, they were told to reform, pray and make a retreat.

Treatment for priests

Gradually, the culture accepted psychiatry and psychology. Providers multiplied. Priests were sent to psychiatrists or psychologists and eventually to mental health facilities for extended, inpatient care. Dioceses, and orders, paid big bucks and entertained hopes for promised “cures.”

After treatment, usually requiring months, a priest was discharged, and the facility, or provider, advised Church officials to reinstate him, maybe recommending that he should not have contact with youth or receive follow-up outpatient care.

Medicine had not yet defined pedophilia as a disorder unto itself that could not be arrested or resolved with therapy and certain lifestyle modifications.

Priests do not waive their civil rights when they are ordained. Bishops and religious superiors are not kings on the mountain but are subject to Church law . They control priests’ assignments and even a priest’s right to act as a priest, but dismissing a man from the priesthood belongs to the pope alone , although only after process.

If a bishop, on his own, tried to remove a priest from the priesthood because of sexual assault, and the priest furnished advice from Dr. So-and-So that he be allowed to function, the bishop well might have lost the argument.

(Still, this columnist treasures the memory of one bishop of the past. Dismissing advice from one of the country’s most respected mental health hospitals, he refused to re-assign a priest guilty of child sex abuse. “I will not run the risk of his harming others,” said the bishop. Furious, the priest threatened to take the bishop to court. Instead, the priest left the priesthood , but he might have won in the local courthouse and in Rome.)

Better Church policies

This is most critical to the entire discussion. Back then, “experts” totally downplayed, or altogether ignored, injury to victims resulting from abuse, saying that victims would “get over it.” Today such thinking defies understanding, common sense and compassion.

Cases were not reported to law enforcement. The written law was weak and imprecise because legislators and politicians yielded to the assumptions of the time. Unless kidnapping, drugging or something else was involved, police felt that they had no grounds to pursue cases of child sex abuse. Families deliberately, often scrupulously, hid problems, most definitely psychological problems — Uncle Joe’s chronic alcoholism, Aunt Mary’s “funny ways,” cousin Sally’s disappearance since she secretly was pregnant without a husband, grandson Pete’s attraction to boys.

Bottom line: The best scientific minds thought that offenders could reform themselves, no victim was seriously harmed, and families demanded their privacy.

Catholics, be glad that our Church has enacted strong policies to deal with child sex abuse , now fully understood as evil by behavioral science. Southern Baptists have an equally disturbing problem of abuse of the young and vulnerable by Church personnel, but their system of ecclesial governance makes remedies difficult, if not virtually impossible, to implement.

This article comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

Thy kingdom come, thy will be done

Fri, 01 Sep 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by Catherine Cavadini

Whenever we pray the “ Our Father, ” we address God, asking: “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done .” It may not seem at first glance that this is what the readings for this Sunday are about. But that is only the case if we isolate this Sunday’s readings from all the preceding weeks in which Matthew’s Gospel has offered us an understanding of the kingdom of God. Much of this education was carried out as Christ preached in parables, offering us an education about his very self as the living Gospel, as the kingdom itself.

For us, as for Christ, these two petitions within the “Our Father” are related. They are also related to our readings for this Sunday, as I have just suggested. But, first things first!

The Catechism of the Catholic Church shows us how these two petitions, regarding God’s kingdom and God’s will, are related. First, the Catechism confirms that Christ, himself, is the kingdom: “The Kingdom of God … is brought near in the Word incarnate, it is proclaimed throughout the whole Gospel, and it has come in Christ’s death and Resurrection” (Catechism, No. 2816). Put differently, the kingdom came through the cross, through Christ losing his life, in order to gain it (cf. Mt 16:21-27).

Even for Christ, this was not easy. He rebukes Peter , who shudders at the very idea that Christ will have to suffer. Christ tells Peter, “ You are an obstacle to me.” And we know that Christ will be in agony in the Garden of Gethsemane as he gives his human will over to the Father, himself praying, “Thy will be done, not mine.” Only by reconciling his human will to that of God’s, will Christ reveal the substance and source of life: God’s love for us, thereby inaugurating the kingdom of God within the world.

In this Sunday’s Gospel reading, Christ calls us to citizenship in the kingdom of God. More precisely, Christ calls us to take up our cross and follow him. He calls us to God’s will rather than our own. It may feel like a “death” at first, but it will lead to our resurrection … to life!

The Catechism tells us: “His commandment is ‘that you love one another; even as I have loved you, that you also love one another.’ This commandment summarizes all the others and expresses his entire will” (Catechism, No. 2822).

At times, though, this commandment can feel like a cross! And, if it was with difficulty that even Christ gave up his human will to such a cross, what are we to do? How are we to “follow him”? To do “his entire will”?

“The Kingdom of God,” the Catechism assures us, “has been coming since the Last Supper and, in the Eucharist, it is in our midst” (Catechism, No. 2816).

Aha! We have, daily if we desire it, the help of the Eucharist. We have, therefore, the help of Christ himself, the person who vivifies the kingdom, who is love active in our world and in ourselves.

This actually brings us beyond the connection I promised between “Thy kingdom come” and “Thy will be done,” to the next petition of the “ Our Father :” “Give us this day our daily bread.” Of this petition, the Catechism comments: “The Father in heaven urges us, as children of heaven, to ask for the bread of heaven. [Christ] himself is the bread who, sown in the Virgin, raised up in the flesh, kneaded in the Passion, baked in the oven of the tomb, reserved in churches, brought to altars, furnishes the faithful each day with food from heaven” (Catechism, No. 2837).

This article comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

Popular podcasting priest urges Catholics to ‘get back in the game’

Mon, 28 Aug 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by OSV News

PLYMOUTH, Mich. (OSV News) — The greatest basketball players of all time aren’t remembered because they never committed a foul, but because of how they played the game, Father Mike Schmitz told an estimated 1,000 Catholics at a seminar in Plymouth.

Likewise, the greatest saints of the Catholic Church aren’t remembered because they never sinned, but because they played to win, he said.

“Father Mike,” as he is known from his wildly successful podcasts, including “ The Bible in a Year ” and “The Catechism in a Year,” kicked off the third season of a monthly speaker series in the Detroit Archdiocese with his address Aug. 8.

He stressed how, all too often, Christians dwell too much on the times when they have fallen or might fall, and not enough on the end goal.

“So many times we Christians act like we don’t know what it’s like to play to win,” said Father Schmitz, a priest of the Diocese of Duluth, Minnesota. “We know what it’s like to play not to lose, and there is a huge difference. Players who play not to lose, play scared. As opposed to those who play to win, who make an error and think, ‘OK, on to the next thing.’ Tonight, let’s have a radical mind shift to have the life of a Christian who plays to win.”

Goal isn’t perfection

Father Schmitz said the goal in life isn’t to be perfect, but to fulfill the meaning God intends for each and every one of his creations.

Like what you're reading? Sign up to receive our daily email!

“Why did God make you? To know him and love him and serve him in this life, so as to live with him forever in the next,” Father Schmitz said. “That’s the reason that ends up becoming the goal. … That is the point of being alive. That is the goal: to be with God.”

To reach this goal, Father Schmitz proposed an exercise: When a person dies and stands before the gates of heaven, and the angels ask the person why they should be let in, what should a person say?

“I ask middle schoolers this all the time, and the answers are what you expect,” Father Schmitz said. “‘Well, I’m a good person. I’m nice. I serve people. I went to Mass every single Sunday. Didn’t lie, cheat, steal. I’m not the worst person I know.’

“But there really is only one right answer,” he continued. “There are two versions of it. The one-word answer, ‘Jesus.’ That’s it. It’s impossible to work our way into heaven. It’s impossible to be good enough for heaven. It’s impossible to white-knuckle your way to heaven. The long answer, by the way, is, ‘Because Jesus died for me, and now I live for him.'”

Using God’s gifts

Christ’s sacrifice on the cross is a gift that could never be earned, only received, Father Schmitz said. There are only two good ways to receive a gift, he added: One is to give thanks. The other is to use the gift, by living the life God wants his creation to live.

To use God’s gifts is to cultivate the cardinal virtues, Father Schmitz continued.

The cardinal virtues — “cardinal” coming from the Latin word for “hinge” — aren’t meant to be means unto themselves in the Christian life, but key components that allow people enter into a proper Christian understanding of life, he said. Those virtues are justice, prudence, temperance and fortitude.

“Justice means giving another what is owed to them,” Father Schmitz explained. “Directly under this virtue of justice is the sub-virtue of religion. Because who do I owe everything to? It’s God. I owe obedience to God because I owe him everything. Worship belongs to justice: I worship God because I owe it to him.”

Father Schmitz then moved to temperance.

“Temperance is doing the right thing at the right time in the right way,” Father Schmitz said. “To be intemperate is to not use the right thing, or not at the right time, or not in the right way. We live in a world with so many gifts; God has been so good to us. Yet, if I’ve been intemperate, then I have the tendency to take good things and make them idolatrous.”

Prudence, Father Schmitz said, has nothing to do with one’s attitude or how they dress. Rather, prudence is about knowing one’s goal in life and taking the appropriate measures to reach that goal.

Prudence takes its root from the word “priority,” meaning to be prudent is to live according to one’s priority in life, Father Schmitz said.

“What’s the goal of life? To get to heaven,” Father Schmitz said. “One of the reasons why I do these exercises is to get people to think: If it’s your funeral, and you are there in the box, what will people get up and say about you? What is it you want to be true about you? What will people remember?

“When I take my last breath, I want to have been a friend of God,” Father Schmitz added. “A prudent person knows the goal and takes the wise steps to reach the goal. No one gets to the Olympic podium and wonders how they got there. They knew their goal and took the wise steps to reach that goal.”

Final virtue

He finished with fortitude, joking — to groans — that fortitude is the fourth virtue because it is “fourth-ti-tude.”

Fortitude is doing what’s right and just, even when it’s difficult, Father Schmitz said. In many ways, fortitude is a prerequisite to any of the other virtues, he said.

“ C.S. Lewis said (fortitude) is all the other virtues at the moment of testing,” Father Schmitz said. “It’s easy to be honest when telling the truth will not get you in trouble. It’s easy to be prudent when it’s what you wanted to do anyway. It’s easy to be temperate when it’s not in front of you. That’s why we need this virtue called fortitude. The reality is, if I don’t have fortitude, I don’t have any of the other virtues.”

These four virtues aren’t the means of being with God in heaven — it is grace and grace alone that brings about salvation — but these four virtues are how people can properly receive the gift Christ has won for us, Father Schmitz said.

“As Christians, we can fail, but failure isn’t final,” Father Schmitz said. “In these moments where I have failed, now I begin again. In those moments, I say, ‘I’m not playing alone, I have divine help.’ And I start anew.”

This article comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

Peter is given the keys to heaven

Fri, 25 Aug 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by Father Joshua J. Whitfield

The readings this Sunday belong to the sacred and mysterious charter deeds of Roman Catholicism, or, as the Catechism of the Catholic Church says, to the “Church’s very foundation” (No. 881). That is, they’re important because they tell immediately of a truth that remains even unto this day, not only for us as Catholics but in fact for all Christians. And that’s the truth about the papacy.

Eliakim, son of Hilkiah, is given the “key of the house of David” to serve as a sort of prime minister or chancellor for the king. What Eliakim opens is opened; what Eliakim shuts is shut (cf. Is 22:22). This is a biblical image of authority, an authority working often even into eternity. For instance, in Revelation 1:18, it’s the “one who lives” who holds the “keys to death and the netherworld.” In Matthew 23:13, Jesus denounces the Pharisees because they “lock the kingdom of heaven.” Eliakim bears a similar responsibility.

Now, there is, undoubtedly, much about this passage to interpret and debate. And much debate there has been and for a very long time. To cut to the chase: Eliakim is a type for Peter. Now Peter is given the keys ; now he serves as steward of Son of David’s kingdom. But, of course, the Son of David is the Son of God; the keys given to Peter belong to the “kingdom of heaven.” What Peter opens is opened too; what Peter shuts is shut too (cf. Mt 16:19). But what’s opened or closed through Peter’s stewardship of the keys is not just any earthly kingdom but heaven itself. Peter at the pearly gates is an image not too far off the mark. Astounding as it sounds, Peter play’s a part in the unfolding of God’s kingdom. But what does that mean?

Well, it means a lot. For starters, in Luke when Jesus foretells Peter’s threefold denial, he tells Peter that after his failure, he’ll turn back to “strengthen” his brothers (Lk 22:32). That’s something that belongs to the Petrine vocation: strengthening the apostles. But he’s also, as the story from John makes clear, to “feed” and “tend” the sheep of Christ out of love for Christ (cf. Jn 21:15-19). This language is as related to governance as it is to pastoral care.

We see these elements of Peter’s ministry throughout Acts of the Apostles as, for instance, when he preaches at Pentecost, praising God for the Spirit’s descent upon different nations (cf. Acts 2:14-36). We especially see them in Acts 10-11 where we watch Peter learn from his vision of all the “unclean animals,” and from his experience of Cornelius’ faith, that “God shows no partiality” (10:34). We see Peter defend his inclusive behavior, opening the faith to gentiles. Here we see Peter truly opening the doors of the Church, of heaven ultimately too. Of course, all of this is very brief, only a sketch. But at least in outline, we see here what Peter’s role is in the kingdom and in the Church. It’s unique; he’s the key bearer.

And, as I said, this is truth that remains, that bears immediately upon us today. Peter remains the key bearer even today. But how? The answer is in whom Peter’s keys are kept in trust. Joseph Ratzinger (Benedict XVI) talked about this, how the ministry of Peter endures through history always in a person serving, by God’s supernatural support, in Peter’s role. That is, Petrine ministry always functions within a person, the successor of Peter. The responsibility given to Peter in Matthew, which we see him exercise in Acts of the Apostles, is exercised in each generation by the Bishop of Rome.

To this, of course, an entire tradition bears witness, a tradition we haven’t space to discuss here. But it’s there, trust me. Explore it for yourself. As I said, it belongs to our charter deeds. Written atop St. Peter’s in Rome — Tu es Petrus et super hanc petram aedificabo ecclesiam meam — those words speak to what’s been true for centuries, what’s true today. And that is that Peter is still bearing the keys that were given him, and he’s still opening the doors of heaven for Christ. Because, of course, of his faith in Christ — the same faith we have.

This article comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

‘Little Chefs’ program is flavorful blend of culinary skills, creativity and faith

Thu, 24 Aug 2023 07:01:00 GMT

by OSV News

(OSV News) — What do you get when you take two teachers and 28 students, surround them with cooking utensils, assemble an abundance of edible ingredients, add in a few craft projects, blend with a cup of patience and sprinkle with a bushelful of laughter?

Why, the inaugural “Little Chefs” cooking program held in Donovan Catholic High School in Toms River. It was one of many types of summer camps offered in Catholic schools around the Trenton Diocese.

“(Cooking) is a life skill you need forever,” said Meghan Ciniglio, Donovan Catholic’s Learning Commons teacher and owner of a catering company. “It is relevant today,” she told The Monitor Magazine, the diocesan publication.

She and JoAnn D’Anton, director of marketing for the Toms River Catholic campus, which also includes St. Joseph Parish and Grammar School, decided to add a cooking class for youngsters to the list of summer enrichment classes, for, as Ciniglio observed, “schools don’t teach home economics anymore.”

Half-day programs for future chefs

Each of the four half-day programs July 17-20 enabled the future chefs, students in grades four to eight, to build upon their culinary skills as well as to practice their writing and creativity.

First, the chefs each decorated their own white apron and toque (tall white hat) to wear, then chose their own trivet to adorn. A tour of the Donovan Catholic industrial kitchen assured the students were acquainted with the tools of the trade, then the budding culinary workers eagerly anticipated the next steps: preparing and eating their creations.

Like what you're reading? Sign up to receive our daily email!

Menus were kid-friendly and included two meals to prepare and eat in class as well as a dessert to take home for their families to enjoy. The children painstakingly recorded recipes for their personal cookbooks; breakfast items such as pancake muffins, French toast, egg bites and quesadillas vied for their attention (and appetites), with luncheon creations such as sandwich roll-ups, walking tacos, personal pizzas and strombolis.

“We were amazed at the outcome,” D’Anton said. “It started as fun, and the kids went home with a love of cooking and of food. I kept thinking of the ‘feed the hungry’ parable , and if I could share a little of my faith journey, I can share that love.”

‘We had an amazing time’

D’Anton’s cellphone was filled with messages, texts and pictures from parents of the young chefs, praising their food and relating their eager requests to prepare a meal for their family .

One enthusiastic chef, Brayden, was moved to make a Facebook video in which he held up scrambled egg bites and shared, “I hate eggs, but these are the best things of my life, and these are eggs!” D’Anton received a call from a laughing parent who discovered her son, Dennis, a new chef, shopping online with his father’s credit card ordering his own set of pots, pans and cooking equipment.

St. Joseph School fourth-grade student Gemma Baranello is already pleasing the palates of her parents and sister with food she is cooking at home. “I would love to continue to learn more about cooking, food combinations and creating new recipes,” she said. “I will keep cooking up some cool new recipes in my kitchen.”

Classmate Alessandra Boemio loved creating French toast for breakfast, and desserts are next on her list of cooking goals, she shared. “I like everything that we made and have made a few recipes for my family thanks to the recipe book we made at camp,” said Alessandra.

“We had such an amazing time,” Ciniglio concluded. “We need basics like cooking, because food brings everything together.”

This article comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

The saints Hawaii needs right now

Wed, 23 Aug 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by Gretchen R. Crowe

“And have you seen what is happening in beautiful Maui now? It makes me sick to think of it.”

These laments from an elderly religious sister — 91 years old, to be exact — were shared with me just a few days after wildfires devastated the historic town of Lahaina, on the island of Maui, Hawaii.

The subject is close to the heart of the elderly but otherwise sharp Sister Jean, who was giving a tour of the Shrine and Museum of St. Marianne Cope in Syracuse, New York, where Marianne lived and worked after joining the Third Order Sisters of St. Francis. For though Mother Marianne was highly successful in her vocation — she had become mother provincial of her congregation in New York — it was to Hawaii that she and a handful of other sisters traveled by choice to minister to the leper colonies there.

Illustrating this change in venue from upstate New York to the Pacific Ocean, the walls of the small museum and shrine were covered with maps of the Hawaiian Islands and supersized photographs of blue water and lush greenery. It was a place that would become a pivotal part of Mother Marianne’s story . For it was there that she and her fellow sisters spent their days doing the unthinkable — caring for children who, stricken with the contagious disease, had been separated from their parents and the rest of their families. More than just caring for them, the sisters became family to those who were ill and forgotten.

Patron saints of Hawaii

The selfless ministry of the sisters went hand in hand with the equally remarkable work of Jozef De Veuster — now better known by the name St. Damien De Veuster — who had made Hawaii his home at a time of great need. For more than a decade, Damien also cared for those suffering from leprosy on Molokai –the island just northwest of Maui. Over the years, Damien became known as “apostle to the lepers,” as he ministered to those who had been cast out because of their disease. More specifically, Damien celebrated the sacraments, built housing, and cared for the ill, physically, emotionally and spiritually. When Damien eventually contracted the disease himself, it was Marianne who sat by his sickbed and nursed him in his final days.

Mother Marianne eventually passed away on the island at age 80, never having contracted the dreaded disease. She had spent 35 years in Hawaii at the service of the people there; Damien had spent 16.

Because of their great work on the islands that so many consider to be a kind of paradise, both St. Damien De Veuster and St. Marianne Cope are considered patron saints of the state — and, boy, are they needed right now.

Pray for the island

As of this writing, 99 people are dead from the wildfires on Maui that tore through parts of the island beginning Aug. 9. Hundreds more are missing. The scene is one of complete devastation — homes turned into piles of rubble and ash; businesses destroyed; bodies still being dug out under the wreckage. Residents and businesses in the small town will be literally picking up the charred pieces of their lives for months to come.

When Mother Marianne was still in New York and heard of the great need of the people in Hawaii, she responded that she wished “with all my heart to be one of the chosen ones” to assist. Again, the people of Hawaii are in a time of desperate need — not from a disease, but from a natural disaster that spread quickly and furiously. As the community — indeed, as all of us — continues to take stock and determine the scale of the devastation, Sts. Damien and Marianne are here still, ready to help. These patron saints of Hawaii are the ones we need right now to help us bear the weight of all that has passed and all that is yet to come.

So let us turn to them, asking them to continue to watch over our brothers and sisters in Hawaii. May Sts. Marianne and Damien be with them, comfort them and intercede for them in their sorrow and their need — as they have done before and as they will do again. St. Marianne Cope and St. Damien De Veuster, pray for Hawaii.

This article comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

Robbie Robertson, The Band, and a deep legacy in American music

Mon, 21 Aug 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by Kenneth Craycraft

News of the Aug. 9 death of Canadian musician Robbie Robertson, at age 80, has rightly prompted many elegant eulogies and thoughtful commemorations. Robertson is best known for heading up the legendary (albeit short-lived) group The Band as its lead guitarist and chief songwriter (though not its lead singer). Robertson’s death leaves 86-year-old Canadian Garth Hudson as the last living member of The Band as it existed from 1968 until it disbanded in 1976. Predeceasing Robertson were fellow Canadians pianist Richard Manuel (1986, aged 42) and bassist Rick Danko (1999, aged 55), and Arkansasan drummer Levon Helm (2012, aged 71), all of whom shared lead vocals from song to song on The Band’s albums.

Beginning with their 1968 debut studio album “Music from Big Pink,” The Band established itself as one of the most important rock ensembles of the late 1960s and early 1970s. Before “Big Pink,” however, The Band’s musicians (then known as The Hawks) emerged as the backup band for Bob Dylan’s raucous and controversial “electric” transition, touring with Dylan from 1965 to 1967. This period helped to propel Dylan’s career, as well as lay the foundation for The Band’s own subsequent success. In 1974, they co-headlined a concert tour, which yielded the excellent live album “Before the Flood.” And Dylan was the centerpiece of The Band’s farewell concert at San Francisco’s Winterland Ballroom on Thanksgiving Day 1976. Planned and executed by Robertson, the concert featured such other luminaries as Van Morrison, Neil Young, Joni Mitchell, Paul Butterfield, Muddy Waters, Eric Clapton, Ronnie Wood and Neil Diamond. Directed and filmed by Martin Scorsese, and interspersed with interviews of The Band’s members, the concert is immortalized in “The Last Waltz,” the finest rock and roll concert documentary film of all time.

A musical yardstick
“Music from Big Pink” was followed by the equally well-regarded albums “The Band” (1969) and “Stage Fright” (1970). Collectively, these three albums yielded such epic songs as “Tears of Rage,” “The Weight,” “This Wheel’s on Fire,” “I Shall Be Released,” “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down,” “Up on Cripple Creek,” “The Shape I’m In,” “Time to Kill” and “Stage Fright” — the kinds of songs that seem never to have not existed. Indeed, this points to the deeper importance of The Band. Not only did they produce very fine music in their own right, The Band played a critical role in the development and sustenance of what has more recently become known as “Americana,” a hearty mélange of influences drawn from rock, country, jazz, folk and rhythm and blues. The Band was Americana before Americana was cool.

“The Band’s music,” said Martin Scorsese after Robertson’ death, “seemed to come from the deepest place at the heart of this continent, its traditions and tragedies and joys.” When Eric Clapton first heard a bootlegged version of “Big Pink,” he wrote in his 2007 memoir, “It stopped me in my tracks.” Clapton observed that The Band “was really doing it right, incorporating influences from country music, blues, jazz, and rock, and writing great songs. … I was frantically looking for a [musical] yardstick, and here it was.” Elton John concurred: “When I heard The Band’s ‘Music from Big Pink,’ their music changed my life. They … changed the face of music.” When Clapton inducted The Band into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1989, he said, “for the rest of my career, I tried to imitate what they had.” When Levon Helm died from cancer in 2012, he was eulogized as “the great unifier” by Jeff Tweedy. “He unified blues and country, rural and city, and even North and South,” said Tweety.

Lasting influence

The whole of The Band was greater than the sum of its parts. Their success was a product of their collaboration rather than anyone’s virtuosity. After The Band broke up, only Levon Helm had a noteworthy solo career, winning Grammy awards for each of his albums, “Dirt Farmer” (2007) and “Electric Dirt” (2009). Helm was so highly regarded that at least two other songwriters have immortalized them in their own music. Robert Earl Keen’s “The Man Behind the Drums” and Marc Cohen’s “Listening to Levon” are celebrations of Helm and the legacy of The Band. The rest of The Band enjoyed moderate success as solo acts or studio musicians. And Robertson became better known for his collaborations with Scorsese, writing and directing music for the films “Raging Bull,” “King of Comedy,” “The Color of Money,” “Gangs of New York,” “Wolf of Wall Street” and “The Irishman,” among others.

But for a period of about 10 years, initially as Bob Dylan’s touring band, and then on their own, The Band was at the very center of the emergence of a distinct Americana sound. Under Robertson’s leadership, they were able to tap into several veins of North American culture, distilling them into a uniquely recognizable style, and inspiring generations of singers, songwriters and bands after them. As Robertson wrote in “The Last Waltz Refrain” for the Scorsese documentary, “It’s the last waltz / The last waltz was through / But that don’t mean / That the party is over.” The party continues to benefit us when we find grace in the beauty of Americana songwriting and performance.

This article comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

God’s gratuitous mercy

Fri, 18 Aug 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by Catherine Cavadini

Our Gospel reading for this Sunday is a hard one. But we have been prepared to read it well by first reading Christ’s parables over the past few weeks. Christ’s parables have asked us to read and to listen well, and to often take a second look so that we might better grasp the truth being revealed to us in images of fields and seeds and leavened bread. In this way, we have been prepared for the difficult passage given to us this Sunday from Matthew 15:21-28. It certainly repays a careful read!

But, first, why is this passage so hard?

Because, at first glance, Christ’s responses to the Canaanite woman (or lack thereof) seem so difficult! The Canaanite woman — whose name, let’s note, we do not know — seems to be totally rebuffed by Christ. At first, he does not even answer her piteous plea for her daughter’s healing. And then, when he does reply, he informs her that he was “sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel,” and, further, that “it is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs.”

Now, schooled by the previous weeks, we have to ask what Christ means by this comparison of sheep and dogs. At first, we might be tempted to think: “Wow! Hasn’t Jesus read the Gospel?!” Yet, if we take a second look, we will see that this very passage, rather parable-like, itself proclaims the good news.

Accordingly, the first thing we need to take better note of as we reread these seven verses of Matthew is the unnamed Canaanite woman. She comes to ask for Christ’s mercy. Indeed, she asks Christ three times, persisting in her request: “Lord, help me.”

Undeterred and full of hope, all three of her pleas were delivered with great humility and even as “homage to Christ! The Canaanite woman does not presume to deserve Christ’s attention or God’s mercy. And so she feels no rebuff. Indeed, she already knows that she is not one of the sheep “of the house of Israel,” lost or not. Likewise, she knows she is not one of “the children” who eat at the master’s table. In fact, in a striking contrast, she identifies herself as a “dog” seeking only “the crumbs that fall” from the master’s table.

Like what you're reading? Sign up to receive our daily email!

With this, the Canaanite woman invites us all to recognize that, like her, we are not one of the elect, chosen since Abraham’s calling to sit at the master’s table. We are but “ dogs” seeking crumbs.

What, then, if we, too, could approach Christ with such humble homage, like the Canaanite woman? It is what the first reading calls for: “Make joyful in my house of prayer.” Taking, heed, we would, I think, break through to the passage’s meaning, for it is only from this vantage point — that of the dog — that we can consider most truly what Matthew 15:21-28 reveals.

We must learn that God’s mercy is not owed to us. Or to anyone. Stated more positively, God’s mercy is absolutely, entirely, completely gratuitous. This is the good news!

God himself became a Son of David, a child at the table, a sheep of the House of Israel. God became such a child because he had promised Abraham, called gratuitously himself to become this house, that it would be through Israel that all blessings would flow (cf. Gn 12:3).

The Canaanite woman, in her great faith, recognized just this: “Please, Lord, for even the dogs eat the scraps that fall from the table of their masters.” Perhaps we could use the words of the psalm to join her in her homage this Sunday, “O God, let all the nations praise you!”

This article comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

The Catholic faith can tame your ugliest instincts

Wed, 16 Aug 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by David Mills

An internationally best-selling novelist who might have won the Nobel Prize in literature, a patriotic Pole and a devout Catholic, Zofia Kossak-Szczucka was also an ardent anti-semite . And she is a model for us — not despite her bigotry but because of it.

“Our feeling toward the Jews has not changed,” she wrote in August 1942. “We continue to deem them political, economic, and ideological enemies of Poland.” The Jews hate the Poles more than they hate the Germans who were persecuting them, she continued, and they wrongly blamed the Poles for their problems. Why they did so “remains a mystery of the Jewish soul. Nevertheless this is a decided fact.”

She wrote that in a pamphlet titled “Protest,” after she’d seen what the Germans were doing to the Jews in the Warsaw ghetto, and at a time when help given to even a single Jew was grounds for execution. Five thousand copies were distributed, which must have enraged the Germans.

Speaking to a silent world

Already, a million Jews had been murdered. “Their only guilt is that they were born into the Jewish nation condemned to extermination by Hitler.”

It was a “murder more horrible than anything that history has ever seen,” but the world was silent. “This silence can no longer be tolerated. Whatever the reason for it, it is vile. In the face of murder it is wrong to remain passive. Whoever is silent witnessing murder becomes a partner to the murder. Whoever does not condemn, consents.”

Therefore, she continued, “we — Catholics, Poles — raise our voices. … We protest from the bottom of our hearts filled with pity, indignation and horror. This protest is demanded of us by God, who does not allow us to kill. It is demanded by our Christian conscience . Every being calling itself human has the right to love his fellow man. The blood of the defenseless victims is calling for revenge. Who does not protest with us, is not a Catholic.”

Kossak did not just write a protest. A leader of a resistance organization called Front for Reborn Poland, she helped rescue Jews from the ghetto, giving them money, food, shelter and forged identity documents. She sometimes found them legal work. In this she worked closely with Wanda Krahelska-Filipowicz, a socialist who as a student, before World War I, had tried to blow up the tyrannical Russian governor of Warsaw.

Council for Aid to Jews

The month after “Protest” was published, the two created an organization called Zegota to do the rescue work more efficiently and get more people involved. It grew into the Council for Aid to Jews, which kept the name Zegota to avoid using the word “Jew” in writings their enemies might read. The group included Jewish representatives as well as a range of Polish political parties and movements, and had connections with the Polish government in exile in England.

Kossak went by the code name Weronika. As she must have expected, the Germans caught her and, not knowing who she was, sent her to Auschwitz . Upon discovering her identity, she was returned to a Polish prison to be interrogated. She escaped in 1944 with the help of the Polish underground and participated in the Warsaw Uprising. She survived the war.

As far as I can find, Zofia Kossak-Szczucka never ceased being an anti-Semite. But she was willing to suffer torture and death — she essentially invited them by her actions, so dangerous was the work — to save Jewish people she believed to be her nation’s (and her faith’s) political, economic and ideological enemies.

Better than your inclinations

This is a lesson in how Catholic belief can make you a better person than you’re inclined to be. If, that is, you understand it deeply enough to see beyond your cultural heritage and you live by it — especially if you live by it at cost to yourself. And, I suspect, if you can see other human beings as creatures made in the image of God, to be defended from evil, whatever you think of them.

You can believe something ugly but act as if you do not.

After the war, Kossak left Poland for England once a Jewish official, who knew what she had done, warned her that the incoming Communist government would arrest her. She returned in 1957, lived in open opposition to the regime, and died in 1968. Fourteen years later, Yad Vashem, the world Holocaust remembrance center in Israel, recognized her as one of the Righteous Among the Nations. The center’s short biography did not mention her bigotry, only her courage and her work.

This article comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

For Virginia priest, ‘ale-vangelizing’ is chance to chat over a beer, meet people where they are

Mon, 14 Aug 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by OSV News

(OSV News) — Father Brian Capuano has worn many hats during his tenure as a priest: pastor, mentor, director of worship and vicar for vocations, just to name a few.

An unlikely hat for a priest to don is that of brewmaster, but Father Capuano can count that among his hat collection, as well.

This spring Trapezium Brewing Co. in Petersburg, Virginia, launched the second release of his signature “Father Brian’s Bourbon Barrel Brown Ale,” where hundreds of family, friends and past parishioners toasted the beloved priest.

‘Being present where people are’

For nine years, Father Capuano served as pastor of St. Joseph Parish in Petersburg, which is in the Diocese of Richmond, Virginia. When he first arrived at the parish, he wanted to learn more about the community, its people and its culture.

He would walk the streets, often dressed in his cassock, and interact with those he met along the way. He ventured to local restaurants and events, believing it was important to be seen outside of church, which eventually led him to Trapezium.

He felt comfortable in the burgeoning brewery. It provided food, drink and a place for him to get some paperwork done in a relaxed setting.

It also was a great way to engage with the community; many people were intrigued by the priest’s presence there.

“Being present where people are is essential. Sharing a conversation over a beer can be an easy way to break barriers and meet people where they are,” said Father Capuano.

Catechetical conversations

His reputation in the area quickly grew, with Trapezium proclaiming him their “favorite customer” on the brewery’s website.

At one point he even had a table with his name on it, and people would sit down and talk to him, regardless of their faith.

And though none of the owners of Trapezium are Catholic, they supported Father Capuano’s way of living his faith and caring about his community.

“The folks who work at Trapezium have always been very warm and welcoming and have been good advocates for folks who misunderstand Catholicism and have been very interested in learning more about the Church,” he told The Catholic Virginian, newspaper of the Diocese of Richmond .

Soon, with Trapezium’s support, he started “ Theology on Tap ” meetings on the second floor of the brewery. Dozens of people gathered regularly to learn about everything from saints and the liturgical calendar to priestly celibacy and bioethics.

“I find that folks really don’t understand Catholicism and that they are unfamiliar with our way of living and way of worship,” said Father Capuano.

“Finding avenues where folks can be introduced to Catholicism and Catholics in person is key if we are going to be able to evangelize,” he added. “The Gospel is generally best communicated person to person, face to face.”

Something brewing

Over the years, Father Capuano became something of a local celebrity.

The young priest invigorated his parish, starting various initiatives, spearheading renovation projects, connecting with students at the church’s affiliated St Joseph School, and fully immersing himself in the community.

One day a few years ago, Trapezium held a lottery to tour the brewery and learn about the brewing process. Though Father Capuano said he never wins anything, he entered anyway and ended up winning.

“I was taking a class in Rome at the time and got a voicemail from the whole wait staff screaming, ‘Father Brian, you won the raffle!'” he recalled with a smile.

The tour snowballed into an opportunity to make his very own ale. He collaborated with brewery staff to create “Father Brian’s Bourbon Barrel Brown Ale,” which was based on his go-to drink, Trapezium’s own brown ale.

He also had the chance to design the beverage’s glass and label. The label featured the beloved century-old stained-glass windows of St. Joseph Church.

Father Capuano and Trapezium turned the release of the ale into a community event, with a portion of the proceeds going to the restoration of the same church windows that adorned the bottles.

Seeing that the release party was such a success, Trapezium started offering more events in support of community initiatives.

Vicar for vocations

After being appointed as Richmond’s diocesan vicar for vocations in 2019, he still made time to visit Trapezium.

One of his former seminarians, Philip Decker, met with Father Capuano several times at Trapezium.

“It did give us the time to recap where I was and what I needed to work on in my formation in a less formal setting,” he said.

“The benefit of this is that it helped me to understand and appreciate that my formation was not just a formal affair, something only to be discussed in his office, or over paperwork, but something that we could discuss at any time and in any place,” Decker added.

Herb Funk, who serves as a deacon at St. Joseph, trained under Father Capuano. He and his wife, Rosemary, attended “Theology on Tap” sessions and said Father Capuano helped Funk on his path to becoming a deacon.

“I’m indebted to him for that,” he stated. “Here I am an old man, and he’s a fairly young man, and as I think back on it, I couldn’t have had a better mentor.”

Decker echoed the sentiment, saying, “He was an excellent mentor. He challenged me in the many ways I needed to be challenged.”

“His spirituality strikes me as very quiet and humbled before God. It was a spirituality I had not really experienced before and one that still moves me today,” he added.

Proud parents

Recently, an extra barrel of “Father Brian’s Bourbon Barrel Brown Ale” was found. Another release party was planned — this time with the proceeds supporting St. Joseph School.

Since the ale was aged longer than the first batch, it was much stronger, but still with the same smooth notes of bourbon and rich vanilla.

People traveled from all over the Richmond diocese for a sample.

Two guests of honor were Father Capuano’s parents. His father said, “We’re very proud of him. He’s done a great job with everything he does.”

His mother credits many of his achievements to his approachable and humble nature, saying, “He has quite the rapport. He can find a way to connect with anyone.”

‘We cannot be limited as priests’

Marianne Yavorsky, a longtime parishioner of St. Joseph, has seen Father Capuano grow from a new priest to a well-known leader in the diocese.

He was ordained in 2011, and joined St. Joseph in 2012. Due to his youth, many of the older parishioners thought of him as a son.

“We all wanted to mother him. I still do. When I see him, I hug him to make sure he’s eating,” Yavorsky said.

“He has so much on his plate, his plate has become a platter,” she added. “I told him to make time to do something fun.”

Crafting his own ale seems to fit the bill.

Despite the vicar’s ever-busy schedule, he still plans to frequent his favorite haunt, Trapezium, and other venues.

He sees this as an important part of his mission and the greater mission of the Church.

“We can’t expect people to simply ‘come to church’ to be evangelized,” he said. “From the beginning, the Lord sent the Twelve and then the 72 to bring the Good News to people who need salvation. That has to continue today; we cannot be limited as priests, and Catholics in general, to simply serving the needs of those who cross the threshold of our churches.”

This article comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

Walking on water

Fri, 11 Aug 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by Father Joshua J. Whitfield

Peter did not begin to sink and then become afraid. Instead, he became afraid and then began to sink. That’s the lesson.

When Jesus called the Twelve, they followed because they were amazed by what he taught and by his miracles. He preached with authority. He worked wonders. They were attracted to him, hoping he was the Messiah. Only gradually, however, did it dawn on them that they weren’t simply to remain disciples. At the start, it likely didn’t occur to them that Jesus would soon make them apostles, commissioning them to preach as he preached and to work similar wonders, that they weren’t simply to be passive observers of the kingdom at all but agents of it.

Which must’ve been a little frightening to realize. God’s calling me to do what? To proclaim the kingdom ? He’s calling me to walk out there on the water with him? Such is how I’ve always read this story from Matthew. Jesus is calling Peter to do something extraordinary, miraculous. Jesus calls us, too, to do extraordinary and miraculous things as agents of the kingdom. Jesus invites us to work with him for the sake of the kingdom of God. He gives the apostles the grace to do what he does just as he gives the Church the grace to do what he does as well in the sacraments, in witness and service. Jesus calls us to be his coworkers, to do and say what he says. It’s like he’s calling us to walk on water just like him, as unbelievably amazing as that sounds.

That’s why we should learn this valuable lesson from Peter’s failure, that he only began to sink after he began to fear. You see, we, too, will be called by Christ himself to do amazing things, things so seemingly impossible they seem as silly as walking on water. But if the call is real, you’ll be able to manage; you will be able to walk on water. But don’t be afraid! Don’t falter in faith, fearing what’s around you. For that’s when you’ll begin to sink when you take your eyes off Jesus.

Now this, of course, may apply to whatever God is calling you to do particularly. But it’s also possible to think of this generally in terms of simply being a Christian. Simply put, it’s hard to be a Christian, hard to be a Catholic. Sometimes we fear; sometimes when we live out our faith, we think people are looking at us, mocking us, whispering to themselves, “What’s this idiot trying to walk on water for?” That is, we sometimes we take our eyes off of Jesus, fearing what’s around us, and then we begin to sink. Because we’ve faltered in the Faith of an amazing call.

Which is why the story about Elijah at Horeb is also helpful. You see, he too faltered. Weary of what God had asked him to do, he escaped to the desert. But there he found God again, a God who was gentle with him, even after he had failed. God whispered to him, calling him back to the task he’d given him. This lesson is beautiful too, for that’s what God offers us when we falter, another chance. Just as Jesus reached out his hand to save Peter and as God whispered gently to comfort Elijah, so, too, he saves and comforts us. Which is simply beautiful, such mercy.

We will fail, each of us. Being a Catholic, living the Christian life, following whatever God’s called us to do is indeed difficult. But we must struggle to keep fear at bay, but also to remember grace — that it’s always available. For God loves us so much he won’t let us sink.

This article comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

Finding a proper order in the ‘religion’ of football

Wed, 09 Aug 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by Timothy P. O'Malley

During my doctoral studies in Boston, my wife was a youth minister. Because she was supporting me in the lifestyle to which I had grown accustomed (that is, the only source of actual revenue in our home), I, therefore, also functioned as a de facto youth minister, especially on annual summer service trips. This privileged position meant spending a week each summer sleeping on the ground in a non-air-conditioned public school, painting homes each day and then enduring non-denominational religious programming each evening.

One such evening, the youth were asked to reflect on the idols in their lives. They stood before money and were queried: where do you choose mammon before the kingdom of God? A young man (not from our parish) who took a dollar from the pile of cash answered that question not only in word but in deed. If you can’t serve God and mammon, you can at least serve mammon.

The young men of Our Lady Help of Christians Parish were more attracted by the collection of sports equipment. Where in your lives have sports become an idol? I saw them pick up the football, and then immediately shed tears! At last, I thought proudly to myself. They recognize that their obsession with athletic prowess exceeds what is necessary for human flourishing. They understand the need to re-order their desires.

We assembled in the room after the session, and I waited to hear about their Augustine-esque religious conversion precipitated by the evening devotional. My hope was at once dashed when the first young man, holding a football in his hands, began to cry out: “Men, make sure that you never forget how brief your high school football career will be. How I wish that I could go back and start again.” Sigh, I thought to myself. What could have been an occasion of memento mori , recognizing the brevity of our lives, became an act of nostalgia.

These young men, of course, were not born with such idolatry. It was passed on, the result of Sundays watching the then-dynastic Patriots and participating in the obsessive commentary that followed each game during the season . Sports radio in Boston could take a three-hour contest and analyze each moment as if it was sacred Scripture itself. Remember when Bill Belichick took that one timeout right before halftime? What was revealed in this moment? What meaning did it possess for your life? How might it foreshadow what is to come?

Of course, the young men and women of Boston are not unique. American football functions to many citizens in the United States as a de facto religion. In 2022, the NFL made $18 billion dollars while occupying our collective attention on Sundays, Mondays, and not a few Thursdays. Individual college football programs make hundreds of millions of dollars, while also offering us a spectacle to watch on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays (and Sunday and Monday during Labor Day weekend). What would high school be without a football game on Friday night under the lights, young men clashing with their neighbors across town, while dreaming of future revenue made from playing a game they love?

Now, this kind of commentary might lead you to presume that the author is yet another academic incapable of understanding the lives of ordinary Americans. This guy, Tim O’Malley, probably sits in a library every Saturday and Sunday reading and writing books that no one cares about.

High school football

While I do, in fact, read and write such tomes, I reflect on football in American life as a full, conscious, and active participant in the annual autumn carnival . I have done so since I was in high school at a public school in East Tennessee. I still vividly remember the moment in which William Blount High School (0 state championships in football) defeated Maryville High School (17 state championships in football). We (note the use of the collective pronoun despite the fact that I did not play football) beat Maryville on a two-point conversion in overtime. We rushed the field. We would later lose in the playoffs that season to Sevier County High School on some atrocious calls by referees who I presume were paid to make these decisions by boosters of Maryville High School (who would later go on to win state that year, but I digress).

Notre Dame football

My love of football didn’t stop in high school. As a student and later faculty member at the University of Notre Dame, I can mark the time of my undergraduate, graduate and professional career through some fairly remarkable games, not a few of them losses. I am so committed to attending these games that I shape my entire fall travel schedule around Notre Dame football.

Should I really be doing this? Is this a good use of my time? Tim, shouldn’t you get a life apart from watching Notre Dame? These are the questions that I ask myself (and I suspect my Notre Dame alum wife also asks of me). Especially with all the problems with football today. College coaches who pledge lifelong fidelity to a team, only to depart when the right offer comes along (names need not be mentioned but Brian Kelly). Players who transfer schools when playing time doesn’t come along, or if there’s more money to be made through Name, Image, Likeness deals at other institutions. Schools that discourage students from getting the kind of degree that could change their life in the long term, preferring that they put all focus on athletics. Concussions. Hazing. Racism. Fans who get blitzed out of their mind before the games, spending three hours yelling profanities at 18 through 22-year-old men. How can I keep watching in good conscience? How can I participate?

I have no great answer to these questions, which continue to haunt me. At the same time, I recognize the gift of college athletics. I admire the way that Marcus Freeman at Notre Dame, for example, is calling these young men toward excellence on the field and in the classroom, while simultaneously providing a formation into virtue . The kind of virtue that will benefit them when they have careers, but most importantly, when they are husbands and fathers.

Proper order

Maybe, for me, the way forward is to properly order my love of this game. I’ve been known, during really important games, to turn to opposing fans to mock them (I apologize to fans of Clemson, in particular, for anything I said to you in 2022). After Notre Dame lost to USC in 2005 (when USC cheated but that might not be specific enough to help you remember), I couldn’t sleep for a week. My mood was too often affected by what happened on Saturdays, causing me to be a rather grumpy husband and father.

During one of these grumpy moments, my son turned to me and said, “Dad, it’s only a game.” That’s true. It’s only a game. Its merits are a deeper connection to something larger than yourself, a community of past, present and future fans of a beloved school, institution or team. But it is a game.

Maybe, those of us at Catholic institutions in particular need to underline this to the young men and women who play football and attend our institutions. Even if there is a particular delight to being in Notre Dame stadium on a Saturday afternoon, it is not the highest or even the most excellent of delights.

It’s a lesson, perhaps, that I might need to remember when Ohio State visits Notre Dame this fall. Go Irish! But, if we lose, then the sun will rise again. The beauty of existence will continue. And all of us are made for something more important than this game, however beloved it may be. Communion with God and one another.

This article comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

Oppenheimer’s lesson is for all of us

Mon, 07 Aug 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by Msgr. Owen F. Campion

A movie is being shown in theaters across the country and drawing much attention: “ Oppenheimer .”

It is about J. Robert Oppenheimer, a brilliant scientist who was key in the development of the atomic bomb. (He died in 1967.)

The atomic bomb was a weapon with an indescribable capacity for destruction. During World War II, Germany and the United States were in a race to build the first atomic bomb. This country won the race. Had Germany won the race, likely today Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Washington and maybe Pittsburgh, Detroit and Cleveland would be memories, holes in the ground.

President Harry S. Truman was in office. After learning that American scientists, led by Oppenheimer, had produced this bomb, Truman, commander-in-chief of the military, debated using it.

He chose to drop the bombs on the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The destruction, including loss of human life, was so immense that Japan surrendered.

Truman, until his death in 1972, stubbornly maintained that his decision to use the bomb in the war with Japan was morally justifiable.

Truman’s moral code

Harry Truman was reared a staunch Baptist, with that religion’s strict code of morality in his blood. Trust in divine Revelation as the only moral compass was firmly fixed in his organization of values. Unlike many presidents, before, and after him, his personal life was impeccable. He was loyal to his wife. He scorned racial and religious bigotry. He prized honesty.

While tests provided good hints, not even the scientists knew precisely what would happen when the bombs fell, but they knew, without any doubt, that devastation would be massive.

Japan was gasping for survival. Some thought Japan’s defeat in the war was certain, but others did not know how far Japan would go to avoid surrender and its consequences. Truman decided that the bomb would end the war, regardless, saving the lives of untold numbers of Americans and Japanese.

He made the decision about the bombs carefully. Interestingly, after the bombs fell, few, including Catholic experts in morality and ethics, asked questions about the bomb’s morality, but as years passed, many people have analyzed Truman’s decision in the bright glare of hindsight.

Evil is not to be permitted

This is fundamental. Some actions are too evil ever to be permitted. Take all deadly weapons as an example. Nothing justifies the wholesale, or reckless, slaughter of human life, certainly not innocent human life. “Shoot first and then ask questions” cannot be tolerated.

Nothing makes abortion right, not even an “unwanted,” “inconvenient,” or medically problematic pregnancy. One person “loves” another. This does not make adultery, intimacy outside marriage, or private relationships between persons of the same gender moral.

Abusing a child or anyone helpless is never right. Killing of entire populations cries to heaven, such as genocides.

Acts may be burdensome or expensive, but polluting the environment is not therefore permissible.

People may not earn a living for themselves, but this does not excuse ending assistance for them by public authorities or even by private individuals.

Criminals commit terrifying crimes. Their crimes do not remove from them their human dignity nor the obligation of society and of citizens to treat criminals humanely.

What is moral or not

Few Americans alive today remember Hiroshima or Nagasaki. Until this movie appeared , rare was the American who ever heard of J. Robert Oppenheimer. Still, in many instances, discussions about “Oppenheimer” can be helpful, bringing people to think about what, and why, are certain choices moral or not.

J. Robert Oppenheimer had doubts about using the bombs. Not a religious man, something inside him told him that dropping the bombs was wrong. It might be surmised that Harry Truman tried hard to convince himself, as much as others, that he was right about using the bombs. He surely struggled with his decision.

What is the lesson? Upholding basic moral standards without compromise or cutting corners brings peace to the soul, but it may be hard.

This article comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

A dazzling display of heavenliness unveiled

Fri, 04 Aug 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by Catherine Cavadini

Peter, James and John were happy to be there. Indeed, they wanted to stay there always.

Jesus had taken them “up a mountain to pray.” And then the most mysteriously wonderful thing happened: Christ was transfigured such that his face “shone as the sun.” Even his clothing became “white as snow!”

Romano Guardini interprets the scene this way: Peter, James and John had been granted a special vision of Christ’s living flame of love. Christ, Guardini writes in “The Lord” (Gateway, $24.99), is “the living Word, and from his holy life, at once human and divine, flies the spark that lights the fame of our own faith.” Thus, the light that shone forth from Christ was the light that “belongs to the spheres of inner reality.” More, it was “heavenliness unveiled.”

Guided by Guardini, then, we can say that in the Transfiguration , Christ’s inner reality shone forth — the heaven that is the very life of God; Love itself. In the Gospel passage, the Father confirms this: “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”

Yet, wouldn’t it have been nice to be there? To see the dazzling display ? And to hear the Father speak? Surely, I would have wanted to pitch a tent and stay, as Peter, James and John wanted to do. And yet, they could not. Christ still had the “work” of his passion and death before him. He had yet to “go up” to Jerusalem. And they with him.

And so Christ’s transfiguration was just a brief foretaste granted to Peter, James and John of what was to come. It was a small foretaste of the heaven that was to be brought about by Christ’s death and resurrection: reunion with God and life in him. This foretaste was quite necessary for Peter, James and John, for the way forward was not easy. This Christ had predicted three times.

Like what you're reading? Sign up to receive our daily email!

Today, when we wish we could have been on Mount Tabor to witness the Transfiguration with Peter, James and John, we could look to the saints for our own foretaste of “heavenliness unveiled.”

The saints burn with Christ’s living flame of love, and so join in the unveiling of his inner heavenliness. As Gerard Manley Hopkins once wrote, in the saints, we will see Christ’s love “flame out, like shining from shook foil.”

Perhaps, too, looking for this flaming-out in the saints, we will be encouraged to join them. When we see Christ through the saints, we see history transfigured into witness by the workings of God’s love. The fire of our faith is fanned by such historically tangible unveilings. As St. Catherine once said, speaking from her own experience, “All the way to heaven is heaven.”

Pope Francis encourages us in this pursuit of holiness, of being transfigured into a witness. This transfiguration happens each and every day that we unite ourselves to Christ, moment by moment, step by step. Praying thus, we come to know ourselves as loved by him, despite any missteps along our way. The trajectory is still heavenward.

In Gaudete et Exsultate (“Rejoice and Be Glad”), Pope Francis tells us: “Think of your own history when you pray, and there you will find much mercy. This will also increase your awareness that the Lord is ever mindful of you; he never forgets you. So it makes sense to ask him to shed light on the smallest details of your life, for he seems them all.”

In this way, writes Pope Francis, we will come to a vision of God’s presence in our lives. History will be transfigured into an unveiling of God’s merciful friendship, reuniting us with him. We will come to see the love that gave life to each of us, living in the innermost place of our being and now flaming and shining forth.

This content comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

What’s it take to be a good Catholic grandparent?

Wed, 02 Aug 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by Bill Dodds

First, the comforting news: Being a good Catholic will help you be a good grandparent. Being a good grandparent will help you be a good Catholic.

And, of course, there’s also that tight relationship between better Catholic and better grandparent .

Oh, that God of ours! Always one step ahead of us. Well, more than one, obviously

For example, you may have noticed that God seldom gives the job of grandparenting to someone who hasn’t already paid his or her dues parenting.

Yes, there are exceptions, but it seems most often, in many ways, grandparenting is the equivalent of golf’s mulligan. It’s God giving you a do-over to deeply influence a child’s heart, soul and mind, from tot to teen … and beyond.

To love that grandchild with your whole heart, mind and soul … and spend some time minding them. You free baby-sitter, you! But unlike becoming a new mom or dad — where you learn (and make mistakes) on the fly — now, as a veteran parent, you know a thing or two.

Like what you're reading? Sign up to receive our daily email!

Looking back since the birth of your own child or children, you can be keenly aware of “what you have done and what you have failed to do” (to borrow a line from the Confiteor). You know you weren’t, and aren’t, a perfect parent. You know you won’t be a perfect grandparent.

But!

That little child, those little children, are God’s way of — no, not turning back the clock — giving you another at-bat. A second chance to step up to the plate. Hot dog!

Apparently (pun, ha!), God has faith in your helping a brand new generation be a witness. To see firsthand, to learn one to one, what the Faith means. How it can be lived out. Loved out.

Being Christlike

We all know the Gospels never described those early followers of Christ as monkey-see, monkey-do, but they did learn a lot by watching how Jesus did what he did.

The love, the compassion, the feeding, the healing, the putting others first, the sacrifices, forgiveness and yes, the telling of some colorful and memorable stories to make his point while teaching.

So … how ’bout that?

To be grandparent-like is to be Christlike . And to be Christlike is to be one jim-dandy grandparent.

Come to think of it, your baked cinnamon rolls or gingersnap cookies, barbecued burgers, grilled Oscar Mayer wieners or some other family favorites, are not unlike Jesus having the coals ready on the beach for cooking the fish the disciples had just caught ( Jn 21:9-19 ).

Then, too, since his resurrection, “the living bread that came down from heaven” ( Jn 6:51 ), continues to feed us, to offer us himself under the appearances of bread and wine.

Yes, there may have been times you might have preferred he had said, “I am the warm chocolate chip cookie that has …” — not to blaspheme here — but think about it: God saved that role (no, not “roll”) for you and your grandchild. You, the grill-master/cookie-queen, chosen by heaven to make that youngster or youngsters such divine-ish treats.

Passing down the Faith

Again, our dear God, is always infinite steps ahead of us.

For instance, the “Lord of the Long View,” having your parent or grandparent patiently help you learn about cupcakes or sub sandwiches. About this or that or another skill. As you went on to do with your children. And can now do with your grandchildren.

God willing, they may end up teaching those same how-tos to their kids or grandkids.

And beyond food, there was, is and later may be: Playing patty cake. Hosting a “tea party.” Drawing a stickman, woman or dog. Playing Crazy Eights. Whistling. Folding and flying a paper airplane. Knitting and/or spitting.

It may come to be said one of the finest legacies passed down from generation to generation in your family is how to make the world’s best snickerdoodles.

Which, thank you, God, can also be a conduit for passing down the Faith .

So much can be said, shared and shown while rolling that dough in sugar and cinnamon. It’s not multiplying the loaves and the fishes, but it is love — love, so necessary to even imagine a God who is love.

Small wonder it’s easier to believe in a Heavenly Father after being so close to an earthly grandma or grandpa.

A new generation to fear for

Still, as every 5-year-old knows: Life isn’t fair.

No, grandparenting isn’t a constant ode to joy. There are times when it’s a serious song with such sad or … concerning … lyrics.

Perhaps Jesus’ grandparents experienced that. Maybe it isn’t too much of a stretch to imagine St. Joachim’s and St. Anne’s first reaction when Mary told her parents she was pregnant.

A loud gulp from him. A quiet gasp from her.

Yes, God will, and did, provide. Yes, oh yes, those grandparents had incredible faith.

And also had, it seems safe to speculate, some fear. As all grandparents do.

Days — and nights — of challenges, tears, headaches, heartaches and a whole new generation to worry about. Including discovering that when your adult child is having a hard time with their son or daughter, you need to “double-storm” heaven with your prayers. For your grandchild who is having problems, and for your son or daughter who is his or her primary caregiver.

5 more points

Now, all that being said (and lived), a few more points to consider:

1. Most likely you aren’t the frontline provider. Although sometimes a grandparent is the legal guardian of a grandchild. God bless them both. We all need to remember those families in our prayers, and in our acts of support.

2. You have an important part to play whether you and that grandchild (those grandchildren) live in the same household or half a world from each other. After all, God did also give you (and, well, all of us) the World Wide Web. He still has the whole wide world in his hands, and now you (sort of) have that , too.

3. As always, God shares. Created in his image, we’re supposed to, too. How, when it comes to grandparenting? Not surprisingly, that varies depending on how little those little ones are. Or how big those big ones are. From your rocking that amazing descendant in your arms to their driving you to your doctor’s appointment.

4. As you well know at this stage of your life: t empus fugit . Time flies. Which is (one reason) why your grandparenting matters. Right where you are. Right now.

5. No, you can’t whisk away an unbaptized grandchild and just do it yourself. And, no, it doesn’t help to escalate a baptism “discussion” into a battle. Sorry, Grandma or Grandpa, but it’s not your decision. Take comfort in what the “Catechism of the Catholic Church” teaches: “God has bound salvation to the sacrament of Baptism, but he himself is not bound by his sacraments” ( No. 1257 ). God’s got it covered. For you. For your grandchild. Which isn’t to say you’re not called to play a part in all this.

Your homework

Of course that means keeping that intention in your prayers, but also showing what it means to be a good (happy! kind! generous! practicing!) Catholic. And having a “Catholic home.” One that displays sacramentals (religious artwork, crucifix, rosary and so on). Keeping in mind those items that can also be “plus” gifts. Giving a typical birthday present to your grandchild … plus one with a Catholic angle. Which, come to think of it, might include an angel. Those items as well as some age-appropriate books on and about Catholicism. All of which can spark questions. Baptized or not, those little ones are curious about your house, your gifts, your lifestyle. Relying on you to offer understandable answers, whatever age they may be.

So, yes, creating a Catholic home and being able to answer questions about your décor or why you do what you do (attending Sunday Mass, for instance) means … homework . For you. Why? Because to better share information, you have to better know that information. Not that your little one will immediately go wide-eyed, pop up and shout, “I once was lost but now am found!”

Rather, throughout their lives, you may be who pops into their head when they hear the word “Catholic.” Not only do you put a personal, positive spin on Catholicism as they grow older and reach adulthood, but the seeds of Faith you plant now may take root, grow, and bear fruit after you’re gone. Long gone. And awaiting an eternal and infinite reunion.

Truly, your influence can continue beyond your time on earth and be nurtured by your prayers in heaven for them. After all, God’s ways aren’t just mysterious but marvelous, too.

How marvelous would it be that while you wait for your grandchildren to join you in heaven, you may spend a bit of eternity chatting with Joachim and Anne? Swapping grandparent stories. How lovely.

This content comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

In the tabernacle, a true friend awaits

Mon, 31 Jul 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by David Mills

He was there — reliably there, always ready for a visitor, always happy to listen. Al Williams was a saintly Baptist deacon who influenced me a lot in my youth, and many others as well. In the evening, unless he was at church, he was usually to be found at home, watching a Red Sox, Celtics or Bruins game, depending on the season, and kids knew they could drop by if they wanted to talk.

He had a ministry of presence, as we might say nowadays. He affected me, and I’m guessing many others, when those who “evangelized” and “witnessed” and worked hard to close the deal did not. He was a Christ-figure in a very practical and personal way, which I later found perfected in the tabernacle.

The Mass and the tabernacle

When I first discovered the Catholic understanding of the Eucharist , I loved the idea that Jesus comes to dwell among us and in us. Most of my fellow converts talked about the way the Mass drew them into the Church. I felt that, too, but I felt even more strongly the pull of the tabernacle.

I learned not to say that because saying it got me strange looks or the kinds of lectures patient adults give to children dealing with matters over their heads. I got it from the more traditional and the more modern. They seemed worried that I would discount the Mass because I loved the tabernacle.

One reason for their reaction (I think) is that religious people like to dial it up, to talk about every aspect of the Faith at its best and highest, its most intense, with all its bells and whistles. The Mass offers a spectacle, a drama, with the words of the liturgy and the ritual actions, with the Scripture and the homily, and then Jesus appearing where He had not been before and our receiving him.

There’s a lot going on in the Mass. It’s a Big Thing.

But the tabernacle just sits there. Jesus waits for us in the church. He already arrived. That drama’s over. He waits for us the way Al sat in his living room waiting for visitors, happy to see whoever shows up.

It’s not a Spectacle. But it’s a Big Thing. It’s astonishing good news. Even better good news than the kind of more “spiritual” salvation my evangelical friends proclaimed. It was even better good news for someone of my put-your-finger-on-things kind of mind. Here, God through the Church gives us Jesus in a form we can see and touch .

I entered the Church in part because she offered Jesus in the tabernacle. I loved knowing Jesus was, so to speak, always just around the corner. Walking into the church, even when it’s empty, except for Jesus, feels like walking into your real home with your brother and best friend sitting there. He loves you as no on else does, he’s glad to see you, he’ll listen to you and do anything he can for you, and he doesn’t expect you to be anyone but who you are.

Presence and friendship

This means a lot to me. Not, I should say, the chance to adore Jesus so much as to enjoy his presence and friendship. I’d been put off as a new Catholic by the way experienced Catholics, with that same worried look and patient lectures, would insist that I must kneel there in rapt adoration . They pushed the spectacle, the drama, the intensity of the experience.

But I felt ( as I’ve written here ) more attracted to just spending time with Jesus. I felt that way partly because I’m not big on spectacle, and I deeply value friendship. I’d also experienced among evangelicals enough of “spectacular” religion and its many problems to react against it when I met a version of it among Catholics. The spectacle thrilled them, and the pursuit of religious thrills had as bad an effect as the pursuit of any other kind of thrill.

I like things that are normal, everyday, simple, gentle, “homely” in the English sense, that don’t intrude or impose themselves but grow on you, and in you, over time. Things that enrich and satisfy more than they excite. The bigger and louder it is, the less I like it. (Except for fireworks.) The quieter and more permanent it is, the better.

Time with friends, for example. When simply being together, without an agenda except the pleasure of each other’s company, is enough. This applies most of all to time with the Lord of Lords who is the Friend of friends, who waits for us in the tabernacle, who loves us so much that he wants our company and makes himself available.

This content comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

Giving God our everything

Fri, 28 Jul 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by Father Joshua J. Whitfield

How important is Jesus to you? I mean, how do you show it and not just say it?

It is common enough to admit, confess or worry about how we don’t make God enough of a priority in our lives. It’s common enough in my life. Not giving God enough time in prayer or adoration, cheating God a bit by not giving him the whole of my heart and mind — that’s just as much part of my confession as yours. It’s just the way it is, I guess. Merely finite creatures trying to love an eternal God, we’re bound to blink, bound to tire, to falter. It is what it is. Sometimes we just don’t give God what he deserves — our everything.

Which is why the saints astound us. St. Francis stripping naked , giving up everything; St. Anthony the Great hearing the Gospel just that one time and then vanishing into the desert for 20 years; missionaries , nuns and monks giving it all up to serve the Church: all of it is amazing, and at once, it inspires and intimidates us. It’s beautiful to see that saints do radical saintly things. But why can’t I do that? Why can’t I give God everything? What’s holding me back?They are questions like these that I wrestle with whenever I come across parables like some of those we hear this Sunday. Jesus says the kingdom is like a merchant searching for pearls , who when he finds the most beautiful pearl he’s ever seen, “goes and sells all that he has and buys it.” He gives up everything for the kingdom; that’s the point. But that’s also exactly what I have trouble doing, tied down by the worries of the world and my own disordered priorities. Do you see what I mean? Do you see why parables like this make me uncomfortable?And the next parable only makes me more nervous, the one about the “ net thrown into the sea, which collects fish of every kind.” The good fish are kept; the bad fish are thrown away. But what sort of fish am I? If I haven’t given everything up for the kingdom like a St. Francis or Mother Teresa , then what hope do I have of being counted among the good fish? Again, you see what I mean?

Jesus is trying to tell the people right in front of him that the kingdom is at hand, and that they need to take this seriously, that they need to realize this is the most important thing in their lives, that they need to drop everything and change everything because of it. But how did people hearing all this respond? Well, the results were mixed: a few followed, others hated him for it and plotted his destruction while most just probably walked on by because they were either too busy or had better things to do. That’s the way the kingdom of God is announced, as something you can either accept or reject. It all just depends on what you make of it — whether you see it for what it really is, whether you think it’s important enough for you to change your life for the sake of it.

Which I suspect is the challenge of these particular parables. We say God is important, that he matters, but does he really? Have I given everything? Has my life changed at all because of my faith in God, or is my Catholicism really just a bunch of words or family heritage or mere feelings? The invitation these parables offer is the invitation to take faith seriously. Which is to allow our faith to change us, to give up what’s not of Christ. Because Christ is more important than everything, especially whatever’s keeping you from following him fully.

This article comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

Using the psalms to carve light out of the darkness

Wed, 26 Jul 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by Simcha Fisher

Kreg Yingst had set himself a task: He would make one block print for each of the psalms .

“I thought I was gonna knock it out in a year,” he said.

He did not knock it out in a year. Some of the images came to him easily, but some were a struggle. The project dragged.

And that was perfect.

“I had to wrestle with it. It became my daily prayer. If nothing came, I had to sit on it, and that would be the one prayer I would pray. If a visual didn’t come, I would read it tomorrow,” he said.

He compares the process to meleté , the intense word-based meditative prayer of the Desert Fathers . Many of them were illiterate, so they would go to their abbot, receive some lines of Scripture and immerse themselves in them all day to “pray without ceasing” in their cells, perhaps in song. This slow, repetitious meditation would purify their hearts and allow the words to take root.

More than two years later, Yingst’s prints that grew from these words became a book, “The Psalms in 150 Block Prints” ($35.95).

Yingst, 63, was heavily influenced by the black-and-white graphic woodcuts of German artist Frans Masereel and American Lynd Ward, whose wordless novels are considered a precursor to the modern graphic novel. Yingst’s deft, striking compositions, which often incorporate text, are sometimes exuberant, sometimes mystical and often jarring.

As an artist who shares his work on Instagram as he makes it, Yingst has had the disconcerting experience of knowing his most heartfelt pieces will probably be social media “duds.”

Messages of the psalms

“We all want to be happy, and we all want sunshine. It’s the sweet aroma of prayer that everybody likes,” he laughed.

But the psalms also carry a lot of darkness, struggle and fear. He chose not to skip over those verses.

“When the rainy days come, how do I deal with it? Because I can’t escape it. That’s what the psalmists were doing. They always came back to [saying to God], ‘You’re still here. You’re my rock, my foundation,'” he said.

At the same time, he learned that some of the more fearsome psalms — the ones begging God to crush our enemies, and the ones that speak of dashing babies against rocks, are not what they first may seem.

“I need to understand this is a spiritual language. I can’t let this bitterness take root in me but cut it off while it’s still a baby. I started reading the psalms that way,” he said.

He discovered that they’re not so much inveighing against an enemy that’s some literal group of people but against whatever darkness every human will encounter.

Carving light

One especially dark moment was the school shooting at Sandy Hook in 2012. Yingst had two young daughters and couldn’t come to terms with the horror and loss those parents were enduring. So for his New Year’s resolution, he decided to carve one prayer a week for the entire year. Those images became a self-published book, “Light from Darkness: Portraits and Prayers” ($29.95), and he donated the proceeds to orphanages. Sandy Hook parents had lost their children, so he wanted to help children who had lost parents.

“It was reactionary. I wanted to throw light. At least, this will bring a little light,” he said.

Woodcuts and linoleum prints are particularly suited to that goal.

“With the block print, and with linoleum or woodcuts, you have that black square, and every time I make a mark, every time I make a gouge, I’m carving light out of darkness,” he said.

Each morning, he would begin searching for a prayer that dealt with light coming from darkness. Not all of his sources were explicitly Christian.

“It was kind of like a tree. Jesus was the first; [St.] Francis was the second. Then you start reading on Francis and who he influenced, and you check them out, and it’s a tree that starts to branch out,” he said.

In this book, he includes saints, but also Martin Luther, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and anyone else he found who spoke to this idea of a plea for light over darkness. But like the tree with firm roots, it always leads back to Christ. This continual return to Christ as the root of the tree, the center of the wheel, is the hallmark of Yingst’s work, including the pieces that aren’t overtly spiritual.

Taking root

Yingst was raised Lutheran but found himself drifting in his mid-20s. But one day, he was brought up short by a parable, the one about the sower and the seed. Some seeds fell on the path and were eaten by birds, some fell on rocky soil and didn’t grow; some grew quickly, but were scorched because the soil was shallow. Thorns choked some.

“I was able to identify with each one, except the one that took root. All the other ones, I had been, but not the seed that put down roots and grew,” he said.

Since then, he has attended numerous churches. He strives to learn from all of them, and to seek rootedness in Jesus.

“The common denominator is love for Christ, and God’s love for us,” he said.

For practical reasons, he keeps two different Etsy shops, one for sacred art and one for music-themed works ; but he wishes it didn’t have to be that way.

“I don’t like the dichotomy,” he said.

Connections

Wherever he can, Yingst tries to make connections. When he sets up shop at art shows around the country, he will sometimes slip in a little sacred art among the woodcuts of Muddy Waters portraits or Beatles lyrics. He believes that most music has some spiritual element to it; and he has found that music, and visual art connected to music, often makes a common ground for people who would otherwise not be open to religious ideas.

While visual art rarely moves him to tears (only music has that power), his art seems to hit people hard, and to open them up in unexpected ways.

“I’ve had people come in and lay heavy stuff on me sometimes. A woman just about to walk out turns around and lets me know her son died last week, and she’s picking up Eric Clapton’s ‘Tears in Heaven.'” Or another one had Pete Seeger’s ‘Turn turn turn’ and said, ‘My mom used to sing this to me; she’s just been diagnosed with cancer,'” he said.

Yingst says he has seen fathers and sons connect over one of his prints; and he’s had the opportunity to pray with people.

“I think God touches on every aspect of our life. I don’t separate religious from secular. He wants to be in every aspect of our life, from our health, to the choices we make, as any good parent would. I see God as having both those qualities, father and mother,” he said.

Although Yingst makes his living traveling around the country selling his work at art shows, he would happily remain at home in Pensacola, Florida. But while silence and solitude naturally appeal to him, they were imposed on many against their will during the pandemic; so he intentionally sought out lessons from the hermits and the Desert Fathers and Mothers, to learn how they endured their time in the wilderness.

It was also during this isolation that he encountered the work of Christine Valters Paintner, and she asked him to illustrate her project “Birthing the Holy: Wisdom From Mary to Nurture Creativity and Renewal” ($18.95). This sent him deep into research to illustrate 31 of the titles of Mary.

“It was a history lesson for me,” he said.

Christ at the center

No door is closed for Yingst, as long as it might open to Christ.

“I feel like I’m the one to bridge the gap, to educate myself, and to find people who are wrestling in their own faith, and have found this connection in their own right, and to share that. I look at it as the tree. Jesus is the roots, and the stump began to grow when the Church was birthed. You have the schism with the East and the West and another split with the Protestants, and now you’re looking at a tree with a hundred tiny branches. But I like to think they can all trace back down to the root,” he said.

He’s currently working on the final stages of a book tentatively titled “Everything Could Be Prayer,” based on a quote by St. Martin de Porres. This book will be in color, and will draw on a wide variety of figures from different backgrounds on various spiritual walks, from hermits to Harriet Tubman. They will all have in common some point of contact with Christ.

“My whole lineage goes through Jesus. He was my contact point on that day 35 years ago. I called out, and he was that one that answered. He was the one who was my friend, my savior, and everything else. I come from a Christology, a cruciform. I see God through the cruciform Christ. He becomes the center of everything else,” Yingst said.

This article comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

Invitation to the kingdom

Fri, 21 Jul 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by Catherine Cavadini

Pope St. Gregory the Great (d. 604) loved the Scriptures. He relished in quiet time to read and contemplate them. And, over time, as he read and wrote commentaries on Scripture, he developed many analogies for the pages of Scriptures and the delights of reading. He thought of Scripture as a river, both deep enough for learned readers (which he described as “elephants”) and shallow enough for the beginner (the “mouse”). Somewhat similarly, Scripture is a refreshing fountain from which we can drink. Elsewhere is a jeweled treasure, glinting with color and clarity. And elsewhere again, it is a forest in which the reader can walk in the cool of the shade.

I love all of these images of Scripture from Pope St. Gregory the Great. As we become familiar with the Scriptures by reading them, we see how true his analogies are. The depths of Scripture tell us moving and colorful stories while offering us deeper allegorical, moral and mystical truths. In this, Scripture is like a river or forest. We almost enter into Scripture’s story, as if into another world, moving deeper and deeper into the mystery of God’s self-revealing words, which refresh and enliven our souls.

I offer these initial comments on Pope St. Gregory’s understanding of Scripture as a way to approach the parables of Matthew’s Gospel. The long form of the Gospel reading for this Sunday includes three well-known parables: “The kingdom of heaven may be likened to a man who sowed good seed in his field”; “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed”; and, “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast.”

In July 2020, these parables were presented as part of the OSV In Focus series on Matthew. In that article, we learned about the purpose of Christ’s teaching in parables : “Jesus went out … and sat beside the sea (Mt 13:1). There, he spoke to them at length in parables (Mt 13:3).” Together, the seven parables given by the sea constituted “a ‘sermon in parables’ about the mystery of the kingdom.” In other words, Christ sat by the sea and spoke in parables to reveal to us something that eye has not yet seen, nor ear has yet heard: the kingdom of heaven. Christ’s revelation, therefore, had to be according to the likeness of what we have seen and heard. Christ spoke in parables in order to invite us into a world — the kingdom of heaven! — through analogous experiences.

And, more importantly, Christ’s “sermon in parables” was designed by Christ to move us, his listeners and readers, to take up our mysterious vocation to the kingdom of heaven. What we have seen and heard must open and expand us toward that which is being ever-revealed to us in Christ. Thus, Christ’s parables themselves are like mustard seeds, or leaven, planted and encouraged within us by Christ.

It is also true, then, as we have seen with Pope St. Gregory’s help, that Scripture invites us into its stories, into the images, in the case of this Sunday’s parables, of the farm. Hearing Christ’s parables, we can see ourselves walking in a farmer’s field ripe with wheat, but also tangled with weeds , we can imagine a “large bush” filled with “the birds of the sky,” and the wheat gathered in the barn.

From here, we enter into the depths of the Scriptures — we receive the deeper meaning of Christ’s parables, and we move toward the mystery that is being revealed: the kingdom of heaven . We are called into these scriptural depths so that Christ might plant the seeds of his kingdom within us according to his self-revealing words, encourage our growth with his love, and perhaps even make us like the “good wheat” that he is, harvested and offered to all.

This article comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

700 years after being declared a saint, St. Thomas Aquinas hailed for his contributions to Catholic thought

Wed, 19 Jul 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by Maria Wiering

(OSV News) — “He was the world’s flower and glory, and has rendered superfluous the writings of doctors (of theology) who shall come after him.” St. Albert the Great is said to have exclaimed these words upon the news of the death of St. Thomas Aquinas , his former student, in 1274 at age 48.

July 18 marks the 700th anniversary of St. Thomas’ canonization, and expert Thomists — those who study and teach St. Thomas’ work in philosophy and theology — say the Dominican priest who dedicated his life to writing and teaching has had an unparalleled influence on Catholic thought.

St. Thomas is best known for his Summa Theologiae , a summary of theology that covers God, creation, humanity, man’s purpose, Christ and the sacraments. He also wrote many other works addressing disputed questions and on the nature of particular things, as well as philosophical and Biblical commentaries. He also crafted several hymns, especially on the mystery of the Eucharist, including Tantum Ergo Sacramentum and “Godhead Here in Hiding.”

“He still is an incredibly rich resource for the thinking of the Church, both philosophically and theologically, and spiritually,” said Dominican Father Brian Shanley, president of St. John’s University in New York and an Aquinas scholar, noting that St. Thomas and St. Augustine stand out as “the two giants in the Catholic tradition.”

“I think a lot of people still think Aquinas has the final answer, if you will, and even if you don’t think he does, you have to know him to be conversant with Catholic thought,” Father Shanley said.

The life of St. Thomas

St. Thomas was born in 1225 near Aquino, Italy, into a noble family who expected him to gain power as a Benedictine abbot like his uncle. However, after receiving an impressive education at the nearby Benedictine abbey and the University of Naples, at age 19 he joined the Dominicans, then a relatively new mendicant order, embracing poverty and itinerant preaching. His appalled family members arranged for him to be kidnapped and locked in their castle in Roccasecca, but he would not recant. Infamously, his desperate brothers hired a prostitute to seduce him, and he chased her away with a firebrand.

Eventually, his parents relented, and he went first to Paris and then to Cologne, Germany, to study under St. Albert, a fellow Dominican and renowned and wide-ranging philosopher who was working to relate Arabic and ancient Greek philosophy to Catholic thought. In 1252, with the recommendation of this mentor — whom, Father Shanley said, had recognized his student’s remarkable intellectual gifts and that he would surpass him — St. Thomas returned to Paris to study theology.

St. Thomas earned a doctorate at the University of Paris, where he also taught until 1259, when he returned to Italy to teach in Dominican houses of study in Anagni, Orvieto, Rome and Viterbo. He returned to Paris in 1268, where he worked on the Summa Theologiae and wrote commentaries on Aristotle’s major works. Four years later, he went to Naples, where, around December 1273, he famously stopped writing after a vision during Mass, leaving his Summa incomplete. A few months later, in March 1274, he died at the Cistercian Abbey of Fossanova, en route to the Second Council of Lyon.

Commentary on the great philosophers

John Boyle, professor of Catholic Studies at the University of St. Thomas in St. Paul, Minnesota, and author of the recently published “Aquinas on Scripture: A Primer,” said St. Thomas’ work stands out for its “stunning clarity” and breadth. Others before him, including St. Augustine, had endeavored to explore creation’s order and relationship to God, but scholars of the High Middle Ages were unique in the discipline they applied to their pursuit, Boyle said.

At the same time, they were “bombarded with new knowledge that could have just intellectually … overwhelmed the culture,” Boyle said, as newly translated work from the Greek church fathers, as well as Judaic, Arabic and classical pagan sources, flooded the West, and intellectuals scrambled to make sense of it.

St. Thomas is especially known for bringing the works of Aristotle (384-322 B.C.) into dialogue with the Christian tradition, a key component of his enduring contribution to Catholic thought, said Dominican Father Romanus Cessario, a theology professor at Ave Maria University in Florida and member of the Pontifical Academy of St. Thomas Aquinas, an institute the Holy See founded to study its namesake.

“Unlike any of the theologians that preceded him in the early Middle Ages, and surely in the patristic period, (St. Thomas) found a way of uniting faith and reason that was unique, and which can be explained fundamentally by his option for Aristotle over Plato and Platonic writers, including St. Augustine, who have a conception of the Christian life that makes it difficult to express the full implications of the Incarnation,” he said.

Plato didn’t appreciate the material world as Aristotle did, Father Cessario explained. Even without the benefit of modern science, he said, Aristotle “extracted from his observations (of the natural world) principles that are sound” for philosophical and theological thinking.

St. Thomas developed Aristotle’s principles and distinctions to articulate an understanding of God, humanity and the world.

“The reason he (St. Thomas) is so important to the church is that he saw how everything from God to dirt is ordered and related in significant and intelligible ways,” Boyle said. “It starts with God. You get the first cause right, you start to see how everything else stands in an ordered and intelligible way, and then you can order your own thinking, your own understanding, in accord with reality; because you can judge what this is, how it stands in relation to other things, and then order your own knowledge.”

While some might make the mistake of reducing St. Thomas to “a brain on a stick,” Boyle said, the priest was also profoundly holy, hence his canonization 49 years after his death.

“He would have been a genius in any culture, anywhere. (He’s) one of the great geniuses of human history, period. That doesn’t make you a saint,” Boyle said. “All that genius is put to the service of the church to test the vehicle of truth. There’s this incredible unity of life — intellectual life, spiritual life, sacramental life. He thinks about them all. He lives them all.”

‘A man of God’

Sister Elinor Gardner, a member of the Dominican Sisters of St. Cecilia who teaches philosophy at the University of Dallas, said she first encountered St. Thomas through his writings as an undergraduate philosophy student, but it wasn’t until she became a Dominican that she fully appreciated him as a “spiritual guide.”

“We do think of him as identical with his writings, with his thought, but he is first and foremost a holy man, a man of God,” she said. “In his own life, he first prayed and studied the Scriptures, meditated on the Scriptures, before teaching. That in and of itself is an important reminder for me as a Dominican, and for all who want to teach the faith, that we need to first live it.”

Sister Elinor pointed to a famous vision St. Thomas had of Christ speaking to him from a crucifix, saying, “‘You’ve written well of me, Thomas; what would you have as your reward?’ He replied, ‘Only yourself, Lord.'”

“That really sums up his whole life,” she said.

St. Thomas’ clarity makes him both accessible to students and contemporary thinkers wrestling with emerging questions posed by new developments in knowledge and technology, she said.

‘Master of thought’

In 1567, Pope Pius V proclaimed St. Thomas a Doctor of the Church, signifying the importance of his writings to advancing the cause of Christ. In 1879, Pope Leo XIII issued Aeterni Patris , which included accolades for St. Thomas’ thought and contributions and, the following year, the pope declared him the worldwide patron of all Catholic universities, colleges and schools.

In his 1998 encyclical Fides et Ratio (“Faith and Reason”), St. John Paul II likewise held the “Angelic Doctor” aloft, calling St. Thomas “a master of thought and a model of the right way to do theology,” and applauded the way he reconciled “the secularity of the world and the radicality of the Gospel, thus avoiding the unnatural tendency to negate the world and its values while at the same time keeping faith with the supreme and inexorable demands of the supernatural order.”

On June 6, Pope Francis appointed Cardinal Marcello Semeraro, prefect of the Dicastery for the Causes of Saints, as his special papal envoy to the Abbey of Fossanova, Italy, for the official celebration of the 700th anniversary of St. Thomas’ canonization. In the appointment letter, published July 11, the pope wrote that St. Thomas “shone with right intelligence and clearness, and while he reverently investigated the divine mysteries with reason, he contemplated them with fervent faith.”

Despite his incredible intellect and contribution to theology and philosophy, St. Thomas was also deeply humble. After his vision that compelled him to cease writing near the end of his life, the saint reportedly said, “All that I have written seems to me like straw compared with what has now been revealed to me.”

“We don’t know what he saw,” Boyle said, noting that he is grateful the church has St. Thomas’ profound “straw.” “My personal view is that he saw the beatific vision. … What he yearned for, what his entire life was ordered to, I think the Lord gave him a taste of it.”

This article comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

Religious sisters bring joy and lifelong learning to senior residents

Mon, 17 Jul 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by: Maryann Gogniat Eidemiller

When the first Sisters of Nazareth embraced the legacy of their founder Victoire Larmenier, they dedicated their lives to sharing the love of God through their ministries of care and education, and their “openness to the needs of the times.”

The needs of caring for the elderly then in the mid-19th century were different from the needs of 21st-century senior citizens, and contemporary sisters stepped up to those challenges at their senior living communities.

There’s a broadening focus in the overall industry on activities to keep residents engaged physically and intellectually. It’s a holistic approach that incorporates compassionate physical care with positive experiences to support a healthy lifestyle and stimulate the mind.

In Catholic senior living facilities, there are also opportunities for practicing the Faith and spiritual growth.

Activities for residents

The calendar is full of activities at Nazareth House San Diego, and residents take part in planning many of them.

“Our seniors love music, and they love the outdoors and nature walks. We are so fortunate with good weather in California so that we can have outdoor activities,” said Barbara Anne Crowley, CEO of Nazareth House and School USA.

Their senior homes in San Diego, Los Angeles and Fresno, California, have different levels of independent and assisted living, through palliative care and hospice. Owned and operated by the Sisters of Nazareth, they follow the religious community’s core values of love, patience, respect, compassion, hospitality and justice.

Familiar and new life experiences tailored to their levels of participation enrich the residents with life-long learning opportunities. Some are able to go on outings, while others have limitations.

“Our residents are coming in much older than before,” Crowley said. “They are coming in their 90s, and they are very active. Even if our seniors are immobile or frail, they can still take part in and enjoy humor and other activities. It’s special to them.”

A classical pianist or other musicians might be scheduled to perform one day. At other times, residents can learn flower arranging, have lively discussions on current events or at a book club, or find friendship in a men’s group. There are word games, bingo, simple exercises for staying fit, and trips into town.

Around holidays, residents welcome visits from youngsters in the preschool/kindergarten-third grade school located on the same grounds. The children make cards and drawings for the seniors there and also send them to the other two locations.

“We see the benefit for the children, and the benefit for the seniors, and we like to tie them together,” Crowley said about the intergenerational activities.

Catholic residents can attend daily Mass and participate in praying the Rosary or novenas. There are also opportunities for pastoral care from the sisters and retired diocesan priests who are in residence at Nazareth House.

A charism of humble service

The mission of Little Sisters of the Poor is to care for the elderly poor in the spirit of humble service, a charism received from their foundress St. Jeanne Jugan. According to their website , “We welcome the elderly as we would Jesus Christ himself and serve them with love and respect until God calls them home.”

Activities are scheduled from 10 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. at their Jeanne Jugan Residence in Newark, Delaware. Residents are encouraged to live their lives as fully as they can with the many opportunities and to have input into what they are interested in doing.

That includes outings to stores and restaurants, in house games, visitor programs, discussion groups and more. They can be as busy as they want or are able to be.

“We try to mix it up a bit with active games, word games, exercises and some educational programs,” said activities director Danielle Shaw. “Everything we do benefits the residents so much by keeping them engaged and keeping their minds growing.”

Refreshments are served at the educational Chat and Chew program when people come in to present short programs on interesting topics.

“Our fairly new driver used to be employed by the FBI and she talked about what her job entailed, but nothing confidential,” Shaw said. “We also have One Day University that’s an online subscription service that features professors from all over the country. The residents like watching them.”

They have happy hours with refreshments and a time to just reminisce . One resident recently shared his experiences as a pin boy in a bowling alley, back in the days before automatic pinsetters. His job was to manually set up the pins that were knocked down.

“It was fun to just talk about that, and how they remembered going bowling,” Shaw said.

Word puzzles and brain games sharpen their minds even if they can’t figure out the solutions.

“I tell them that the important thing is that they are going through the process of thinking of the answer, not so much that they get the answer correct,” she said. “We encourage them to use their brain power.”

Finding joy in old age

Staff and family are invited to parties that are held almost every month, like a Father’s Day celebration and a tea party for Mother’s Day. One resident dressed up as the Easter Bunny for an egg hunt.

The Little Sisters of the Poor are involved in all the activities, too.

“They come for every party and they’re always walking past us when we’re doing things,” Shaw said. “They’ll attend trips, too, if we need an extra hand. We recently visited a horse farm and a few of the sisters came along and assisted.”

The activities, she added, are part of the mission of the Sisters of the Poor to meet the needs of the seniors with compassionate and person-centered care. Add to that the Masses, Rosaries and other opportunities for the Catholic residents to practice their faith.

“We make sure we are loving the residents with the love of Christ,” Shaw said. “It’s a pleasure to be able to serve them, and I love doing what I do. It’s not always easy at this stage of life to find joy in little things, especially when you are depending more upon someone to take care of you. It’s an honor to be able to do it for them.”

This article comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

Longing for God and his nourishment

Fri, 14 Jul 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by Father Joshua J. Whitfield

The word of God is like seed, the soul like soil.

Church fathers such as St. Basil the Great and Origen talked about something they called the logos spermatikos . A Stoic idea, changed a bit; for theologians like St. Basil the logos spermatikos was a gift given to believers by God, the implanted gift of desiring God. Made by nature, and then by grace, to yearn for God, to say we’re bearers of the logos spermatikos names our spiritual restlessness, explaining why we just can’t help but to seek the spiritual, to seek God, no matter how hard we try not to.

It’s an organic image, earthy . It reminds us that our spiritual restlessness runs deep, that our spiritual and religious lives are woven into our muscles and bones as much as our intellects. That is, we naturally long for God and his nourishment, even in fleshly brokenness, like dry land longs for rain. The spiritual life is not merely academic, intellectual, rational; it’s more. To become religious, to become a believer, requires more than a mere download of information, the examination of evidence. Belief is a more mysteriously natural thing than that; it’s supernatural. Like the growth of a flower, it’s easy enough to explain photosynthesis and its cell biology, harder to explain why it’s so beautiful, why it exists at all.

Planting truth

This fits with what Isaiah says about the word of God. He, too, employs the earthy and organic to talk about the spiritual. As seed makes the earth fruitful, as bread makes the body healthy, “so shall my word be,” the prophet says. Again the image is simple, primitive, reminding us of our more organic spiritual beginnings, that our spiritual awakening began less among the clean philosophers of reason and more among the rustic piety of farmers. It reminds us that spiritual longing is ordinary, that you can be as spiritual as any philosopher or theologian. In one sense, it’s just a simile, just an image; but it is indeed more, for it reminds us that it’s natural, indeed fully human, to be a spiritual person.

Which, of course, is why Jesus talks like Isaiah, why he, too, speaks in this organic, earthy manner. Because he’s speaking to ordinary people. Jesus is not a political leader, a guru or a philosopher; he’s more a farmer, a sower of seeds. He doesn’t merely offer us information to consider; he plants truth within us. Because his word is seed , and our souls are soil. Because the spiritual life is not merely the life of the mind.

An invitation

Which means what to us though? How does this change the way we think about and live our spiritual lives? Well, it means that when we listen to Jesus talk about “rocky ground” and “thorns” and “rich soil,” we understand that he’s not talking only about some immaterial, mystical, solely intellectual spiritual danger. Rather, he’s talking about everything that hinders or helps us receive the word of God, everything from the most mundane (like our screen addiction, our gluttony, our lust) to the most esoteric and theological (like contemplating the mysteries of the Faith). What obstructs our receiving God’s word? It’s more likely some little comfort that keeps us from praying or serving than, say, some theological or ethical conundrum. Things like that are more likely our rocky ground, our thorns — those everyday things that keep us from God.

The parable is not hard to understand. It simply requires faith. Then one is able to look at oneself to see honestly what’s getting in the way of the word of God; then one is able to see how his or her soul is like soil. Is it choked by worldly anxiety, worldly cares? Is it so distracted and unfocused, so undisciplined and prayerless it can’t really accept God’s word with anything other than shallow joy? The parable is an invitation to examine ourselves, our conscience, and our entire lives. The parable reminds us that everything is on the table, and that we must be honest about it all and let God prune us like the good farmer he is. So that we might grow finally beautiful, just as we were created to be.

This article comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

‘Thoughts and prayers’: What good are they?

Wed, 12 Jul 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by Lisa M. Hendey

(OSV News) In a world where the 24/7 news cycle offers a ceaseless tide of disasters, a natural Christian inclination has become a polarizing catchphrase. Whether the news is yet another senseless mass shooting , a disastrous act of nature, or the illness of a loved one, there’s a one-size-fits-all, yet real, response: prayer.

Unfortunately, our urge to send our “thoughts and prayers” over social media is such a common and reflexive response that it has become devalued in the eyes of many. Wikipedia even has a “Thoughts and Prayers” entry, tracking times when the words have been offered seemingly in place of actual assistance or intentional corrective action.

Meant as a consolation, the words “thoughts and prayers” are often seen as a senseless murmur offered in place of greatly needed societal change.

I’m guilty of being quick to send “thoughts and prayers” in my timelines. The phrase is such a part of my lexicon that it’s become predictive text in my smartphone. I use it nearly every day on social media feeds, where the needs of others seem to rise to the top of my algorithm, like a strangely theological cream. The needs of friends feel omnipresent. Helpless to assist otherwise, I offer “thoughts and prayers,” hoping to convey my nearness, even when I am far away.

But in my haste to be compassionate, I’m too often guilty of typing these words thoughtlessly and moving along without stopping to truly pray. Lately, I’m challenging myself to do something more than clicking the prayer emoji when I’m met with the suffering of others.

But I haven’t given up on “thoughts and prayers.” Being on the receiving end of hundreds of such offerings following my recent cancer diagnosis has convinced me that the message matters. When I began to share my news publicly, hundreds of digital “thoughts and prayers” came my way, and they made all the difference in the world.

“Thoughts and prayers” came to me through social media and filled my email inbox. My mailbox overflowed with cards and letters carrying thoughts and prayers into our home. My phone blew up with thoughtful and prayerful calls and texts. “Thoughts and prayers” have buoyed me in moments of pain and fear, wrapping me in a blanket of love when I truly needed to be surrounded by support and to feel God’s presence.

Experiencing illness can be an exercise in extreme isolation. Meaning to let someone rest undisturbed, we may forget that our presence to others, even in writing, is an irreplaceable balm. In his 1999 Message to the Young People of Israel and Palestine , St. John Paul II wrote, “None of us is alone in this world. Each of us is a vital piece of the great mosaic of humanity as a whole.” As hours ran into days and weeks during my recovery, I reread many thoughtful lines sent my way during my surgery. Too weak to reply, I had the very real sense of a flock of loved ones not only thinking of me but also being emotionally and spiritually present to me. I was reminded that I do not face this challenge alone.

Prayers are even more precious. I will likely never have a chance to thank everyone who has prayed for me, but their thoughts, their prayers have blessed me when I was too infirm to pray for myself.

Priest friends have offered their Masses on my behalf. Loved ones have included me in the intercessory prayers at their churches and put me on scores of prayer lists. One very dear friend regularly sends me cards from the chapel where she remembers me at her weekly hour of Eucharistic adoration . I have received spiritual bouquets full of rosaries and novenas. Friends have invoked the intercession of powerful saints, sending me relics, holy cards and blessed oils. Especially precious to me are the handmade cards, letters and works of art I’ve received from schoolchildren. Their tender thoughts and prayers carry my needs immediately to the God who loves us so greatly.

Being on the receiving end of “thoughts and prayers” has convinced me of their good. I will continue, in my way, to offer thoughts and prayers. But I also will challenge myself to make real, small-but-concrete acts of love when I do, and to trust in the fullness of God’s perfect plan.

This article comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

New pro-life initiative offers help to pregnant women facing emergencies

Mon, 10 Jul 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by Katie Yoder

A new initiative by pro-life groups promises to support pregnant women in emergency situations by providing accurate information and help from medical professionals.

“The fact is there are many medical professionals on standby, right now, who are willing to assist mothers facing troubling information,” the initiative’s webpage, PregnancyEmergency.com , reads. “You are not alone.”

PregnancyEmergency.com, launched by Students for Life of America (SFLA) through their Standing with You initiative and with Heartbeat International and Infinite Worth , exists to cut through the fear of pregnancy emergencies — from miscarriage to ectopic pregnancy — by accompanying women with guidance and professional help.

“The great thing about this webpage is that it is part of the larger Standing With You initiative, an online directory which houses more than 4,000 resources connecting women to additional support including maternity homes, government programs, adoption, food pantries, information about safe haven laws, etc.,” Kristan Hawkins, the president of Students for Life, told Our Sunday Visitor. “This way, if a woman’s pregnancy is medically able to continue and she chooses life, there are helping hands extended to her through pregnancy and beyond childbirth.”

PregnancyEmergency.com offers support for pregnant women in three main ways: By providing information about emergency situations (miscarriage, prenatal diagnosis, ectopic pregnancy, and molar pregnancy), by listing a number that women can call or text 24/7 to reach professional counselors who can connect them with medical help, and by offering a 24/7 chat line with a nurse.

To ‘help lives be changed and saved’

The initiative began after Hawkins noticed abortion supporters creating a narrative about the supposed need for legal abortion to save women’s lives after the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade, which legalized abortion nationwide in 1973.

Instead, PregnancyEmergency.com pledges to “help women get better answers than ‘get an abortion,'” Hawkins said in a press release.

“This does not replace 911 in a crisis,” she added, “but for mothers told that they can’t be treated for ectopic pregnancy, for example, it’s a great place to get medical facts, not pro-abortion spin.”

The information on the webpage regarding miscarriage, prenatal diagnosis, ectopic pregnancy, and molar pregnancy was compiled using medical sources, Hawkins told Our Sunday Visitor, and the healthcare professionals women are directed to are trained.

In the press release announcing the initiative, Hawkins, who leads the nation’s largest pro-life youth organization, with more than 1,400 groups on middle, high school, college, university, medical and law school campuses, stressed that their goal is to help women.

“[W]e know women are worried that they’re at risk in a Post-Roe America ,” Hawkins said, adding that PregnancyEmergency.com gives women answers and direction.

The other two pro-life groups involved also applauded the initiative.

“Women deserve answers in their pregnancy decision-making, not directives,” Jor-El Godsey, the president of Heartbeat International, a network supporting thousands of pregnancy centers, said in the press release. “Hearing a friendly voice who can help them understand the terms and the potential helps make a truly informed decision.”

Rachel Owen, the CEO of Infinite Worth, which fosters relationships through text and phone calls between nurses and women considering abortion, highlighted the nurse chat widget that her group is responsible for.

It “will help lives be changed and saved,” she said, before adding, “We are excited to see the life-long relationships that will come from this partnership as we serve women and connect them with pregnancy centers in their moment of need.”

The Catholic Church’s position on abortion and emergency pregnancies

Abortion is never permitted, according to the “ Ethical and Religious Directives for Catholic Health Care Services ” issued by the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB).

In the directives, the U.S. bishops define abortion as the “directly intended termination of pregnancy before viability or the directly intended destruction of a viable fetus.”

In other words, the Catholic Church prohibits any action made with the direct intent of ending an unborn baby’s life either before or after he or she can survive outside the womb.

“Every procedure whose sole immediate effect is the termination of pregnancy before viability is an abortion , which, in its moral context, includes the interval between conception and implantation of the embryo,” the bishops continue.

At the same time, the bishops stress that a Catholic woman can seek life-saving care even if that care means that her unborn baby will die indirectly as a result.

“Operations, treatments, and medications that have as their direct purpose the cure of a proportionately serious pathological condition of a pregnant woman are permitted when they cannot be safely postponed until the unborn child is viable, even if they will result in the death of the unborn child,” they write.

With this in mind, the bishops add that, in the case of ectopic or extrauterine pregnancy, which is life-threatening for the woman, “no intervention is morally licit which constitutes a direct abortion.” Instead, she must seek a life-affirming solution.

This article comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.

The ‘hidden things’ often unnoticed

Fri, 07 Jul 2023 07:00:00 GMT

by Catherine Cavadini

This Sunday, we jump right into the middle of a story taken from Matthew 11. In the first lines, Jesus is referring to “hidden things” that are only revealed to “ little ones .” We might wonder: What are “these things” to which Christ is referring? And why are they revealed to “little ones”?

Let’s remember what has been happening in Matthew’s Gospel so that the answers to these questions can be revealed to us, and we can hopefully become “little ones.”

In Chapter 3 of Matthew’s Gospel, we hear the voice of John the Baptist crying out in the wilderness: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand! ” (Mt 3:2). In Chapter 6, Christ teaches us to pray the Our Father. And by the time we arrive at Chapter 11, Matthew and the other disciples have been called, John has been arrested, and Christ has been revealing the mercy that constitutes his Kingdom. As we approach Chapter 11, therefore, we have heard the call to repentance and we have been given the means to turn toward Christ: the holiness of John the Baptist, the example of the disciples in heeding Christ’s call, and the prayer in which we ask to be forgiven and to be conformed to God’s will.

In part, then, the “hidden things” of which Christ speaks are “hidden” because they are “little” and easily unnoticed by the world: a voice in the wilderness, the “turning” of a heart, an act of mercy, prayer.

The world, as Christ laments in Matthew 11, desires “deeds of power.” Of course, Christ also does “deeds of power” in Matthew’s Gospel: “the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear…” (Mt 11:4-5). And yet, despite such obvious displays of “power,” the world does not repent. These are deeds for those “with eyes to see.” The world does not see, “the Lord of heaven and earth,” but “a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners” ( Mt 11:19 ).

In contrast, those who repent are the “little ones” of Matthew’s Gospel. The “little ones” are those humble enough to recognize their faults and to pray to God for forgiveness. Only these “little ones” recognize the Hidden One revealed by Christ. The Hidden One is their Father and their king. He is the one whom Christ reveals with his merciful miracles that heal the sufferings of his “little ones.”

Matthew 11:25-30, thus, calls its readers to a conversion from the power of the world to the repentant humility of the “little one.”

We find such an example in the life of St. Augustine (d. 430), famous for his conversion from pride to humility. In fact, Augustine even relied on Matthew 11:25-30 to tell his story of conversion in his Confessions. He tells us how God befriended him, a sinner, burdened with the heavy load of his worldly pride: “You, Lord, are good and merciful, and your right hand plumbed the depths of my death … so that I now willed what you willed … enabling me to bow my neck to your benign yoke and my shoulders to your light burden, O Christ Jesus, my helper and redeemer … Childlike, I chattered away to you, my glory, my wealth, my salvation, and my Lord and God.” Thus, Augustine gives thanks to the “Father, Lord of heaven and earth,” who reveals himself to “little ones.”

Perhaps what is most moving about Augustine’s prayer is his entrance into Christ’s own prayer in Matthew 11:25-30: “I give praise to you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth.” Praying thus with Christ, Augustine’s heart humbly turns with total gratitude to God for becoming a “little one” himself. Christ’s “littleness” reveals the Hidden One, and so Christ even helps us to pray, like children, to Our Father. May we hear his voice, and turn!

This article comes to you from Our Sunday Visitor courtesy of your parish or diocese.