Jesus Christ is coming to a parish near you this Lent, and He really wants to see us there.
Since the beginning of Lent, I've seen several Penance services scheduled for my diocese advertised in my parish bulletin. Being a rock music fan since childhood, I compared this invitation, St. Matthew, March 29; St. Ann, April 3, to a concert tour and called it “The Merciful Mystical Tour.” However, instead of Jesus Christ Superstar, get ready to encounter God's mercy acting through our local parish priests.
I had an opportunity to attend Mass on Ash Wednesday this year, and when the deacon signed my forehead with ashes his words were: “Turn away from sin and be faithful to the Gospel.” That's stayed with me since, and I've made one of my Lenten resolutions to avail myself of all the means the Church provides us to avoid sin and do good.
Earlier this month, I was invited to answer some questions at an eight-grade religious education class at my parish. The first question I answered was “Why do we need to confess our sins to a priest?” I congratulated the young man's courage for formulating a question that I'm sure thousands of church-going Catholics frequently ask themselves. I gave the class the standard Gospel answer. After Jesus resurrected, He breathed the Holy Spirit on the Apostles and said, “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven. If you retain the sins of any, they are retained,” (Jn 20:22-23). After I went home that evening though, I thought the answer I should have given them was, “We need to confess our sins to a priest for the same reason we go to Mass to receive the Eucharist consecrated by a priest.” All priests are ordained to be “other Christs” to God's people.
As a seminarian, I attended a newly-ordained priest's first Mass of Thanksgiving. Since he was a good friend of mine, I approached him shortly before the beginning of the ceremony and asked him to hear my confession. He agreed to it, but when it came time to give me absolution, my priest friend couldn't remember the prayer of Absolution and didn't have the formula handy at the time. I told him I knew the prayer by heart because in those days I used to go to Reconciliation weekly. “Repeat after me Father,” I said. “God, the Father of mercies, through the Death and Resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins. . .” “Through the ministry of the Church, may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins. . .” The Holy Spirit revealed to me then that even though I knew the prayer, it's not only the words said, but who says them. A priest acts in the Person of Christ, and it's Christ working through the priest who forgives sins.
Confession is good for the soul, and I believe the Church in her wisdom recognizes that we may have reservations about confessing our sins to the same man we shake hands with at the end of Sunday Mass. The Merciful Mystical Tour is a perfect opportunity to choose the priest we want to go to reconcile our hearts with to Our Father. Jesus in his priests has many faces; some are young and some are gray. However, it's the same Jesus that says, “Your sins are forgiven. Go in peace.”
Friday, April 8, 2011
Sunday, March 27, 2011
A Man for all Seasons
“Nathan said to David, 'You are the man...'” (2 Sam 12:7)
This was not exactly an exultation of King David's manhood – that's how the prophet Nathan rebuked David in the Old Testament for setting up Uriah the Hittite to be killed in battle. David could then take Uriah's wife Bathsheba as his wife. David had committed adultery with her, resulting in her pregnancy.
I attended the first Catholic Men's Conference at Charlotte Catholic a couple weeks ago. And although I hadn't being unfaithful to my wife or ordered another man's hit, the Holy Spirit called me out at the Conference for not having been the man I thought I was.
Before attending the Conference, I was convinced that I was a man of prayer, a loving husband and father. Well, the keynote speaker, Fr. Larry Richards of the Diocese of Erie, Pa., showed me that I had been suffering from an acute case of self-deception. My prayer life had been filled with self-interest, and I had constantly placed myself before God and my family.
With a drill-sergeant-turned-Pentecostal-preacher style and a quick wit reminiscent of George Carlin, Fr. Larry got in the face of almost 700 men present at the Charlotte Catholic gym. His message was overdue for a lot of us present, and I wish every Catholic man in the Diocese of Charlotte had attended that conference.
At one point, Fr. Larry asked us if we would lay down our lives for our wives and families and take a bullet for them if an intruder were to invade our homes. We all said yes. His response was, “Well, the world, the flesh and the Devil want to get to your wife and kill your family. And you have tell them, 'you have to get through me to get to them.'”
That did it for me. I came to see that a real man prays and loves. A real man builds his day on God and arms himself for battle with the shield of God's grace in the sacraments of Confession and the Eucharist, in that order. A real man picks up the sword of the Word of God by reading and meditating on the Scriptures daily. A real man loves by laying his life down for others in service, and he places God first, others second and himself last. A real man strives to become a saint by dying to himself and embracing his cross on a daily basis. That's the kind of man Fr. Larry preached about during the conference, and that's the kind of man I pray to become.
There's a real battlefield out there for men, and it's time for us to step up spiritually and become relevant in our Catholic households and in society again. Not by lording it over, but by us becoming servant-leaders. God expects us to be “the man” – the man our wives and families deserve.
This was not exactly an exultation of King David's manhood – that's how the prophet Nathan rebuked David in the Old Testament for setting up Uriah the Hittite to be killed in battle. David could then take Uriah's wife Bathsheba as his wife. David had committed adultery with her, resulting in her pregnancy.
I attended the first Catholic Men's Conference at Charlotte Catholic a couple weeks ago. And although I hadn't being unfaithful to my wife or ordered another man's hit, the Holy Spirit called me out at the Conference for not having been the man I thought I was.
Before attending the Conference, I was convinced that I was a man of prayer, a loving husband and father. Well, the keynote speaker, Fr. Larry Richards of the Diocese of Erie, Pa., showed me that I had been suffering from an acute case of self-deception. My prayer life had been filled with self-interest, and I had constantly placed myself before God and my family.
With a drill-sergeant-turned-Pentecostal-preacher style and a quick wit reminiscent of George Carlin, Fr. Larry got in the face of almost 700 men present at the Charlotte Catholic gym. His message was overdue for a lot of us present, and I wish every Catholic man in the Diocese of Charlotte had attended that conference.
At one point, Fr. Larry asked us if we would lay down our lives for our wives and families and take a bullet for them if an intruder were to invade our homes. We all said yes. His response was, “Well, the world, the flesh and the Devil want to get to your wife and kill your family. And you have tell them, 'you have to get through me to get to them.'”
That did it for me. I came to see that a real man prays and loves. A real man builds his day on God and arms himself for battle with the shield of God's grace in the sacraments of Confession and the Eucharist, in that order. A real man picks up the sword of the Word of God by reading and meditating on the Scriptures daily. A real man loves by laying his life down for others in service, and he places God first, others second and himself last. A real man strives to become a saint by dying to himself and embracing his cross on a daily basis. That's the kind of man Fr. Larry preached about during the conference, and that's the kind of man I pray to become.
There's a real battlefield out there for men, and it's time for us to step up spiritually and become relevant in our Catholic households and in society again. Not by lording it over, but by us becoming servant-leaders. God expects us to be “the man” – the man our wives and families deserve.
The Silence of the Lambs
While attending Saturday morning Mass at St. Vincent de Paul Church in Charlotte last month, Fr. Frank Pavone, the director of Priests for Life, who visited Charlotte for our local March for life, showed me how indifferent I have become to the sad reality of widespread abortion in our contemporary society. Fr. Pavone led us into a novena for an end to abortion at the conclusion of the Mass. There was a part of that prayer that really resonated deep in my heart, “Today, I commit myself never to be silent, never to be passive, never to be forgetful of the unborn.” Jesus' words, “To whom much is given, much is required,” have kept echoing in my mind ever since that cold January morning at St. Vincent de Paul Church.
For the average Catholic in the pew, the topic of abortion is very delicate and difficult to speak about – an almost taboo subject. Nobody wants to rock the boat, myself included. After all, the woman sitting next to you during Sunday Mass might have made a desperate decision to abort a baby earlier in life, or she might be married to a man who fathered an aborted child.
There are three things we can do as practicing Catholics to get more involved in the pro-life movement. First and foremost, we should pray to Our Lady of Guadalupe, patroness of the Pro-Life Movement. When Our Lady appeared to St. Juan Diego in Mexico in the 16th century, the locals were sacrificing close to 9,000 people a year to appease their gods. Our Lady of Guadalupe put an end to that human sacrifice within just a few years. Saying a rosary on Saturdays for the unborn and their mothers is a good starting point. Fr. Pavone stated most women have abortions out of despair; they lose hope and fear they will not be able to take care of their unborn child.
St. Ignatius of Loyola said, “We should pray as if everything depended on God, and work as if everything depended on us.” The bottom line is, abortion is big business – a billion dollar industry. Planned Parenthood is the biggest abortion provider in the country, and a staunch advocate of the incorrectly defined “reproductive rights.” It also receive federal funding every year. I feel we as Catholics are not vocal enough in the political arena concerning this issue. More of our legislative representatives need to hear of our disapproval of tax money going to Planned Parenthood.
Finally, let's us be conscious of the women and men, Catholic or not, in need of healing and forgiveness caused by the sin of abortion. They are also tragic victims, as are the aborted children. As part of the of the wounded Body of Christ, they need the hope of God's infinite mercy and healing in the Person of the Divine Healer, Jesus Christ. An organization called Rachel's Vineyard facilitates this type of healing and forgiveness with women and men affected by abortion through weekend retreats nationwide. In Charlotte, the folks at Room at the Inn and Mother Teresa's Missionaries of Charity provide rays of hope to pregnant women in need of help.
The time to be silent is long past. Let's pray to Our Lord and ask Him how He wants us to help put an end to the scourge of abortion, which has silently ended the lives of more than 50 million unborn babies since Roe v. Wade legalized abortion on demand in a U.S. Supreme Court decision issued on a cold January day in 1973.
For the average Catholic in the pew, the topic of abortion is very delicate and difficult to speak about – an almost taboo subject. Nobody wants to rock the boat, myself included. After all, the woman sitting next to you during Sunday Mass might have made a desperate decision to abort a baby earlier in life, or she might be married to a man who fathered an aborted child.
There are three things we can do as practicing Catholics to get more involved in the pro-life movement. First and foremost, we should pray to Our Lady of Guadalupe, patroness of the Pro-Life Movement. When Our Lady appeared to St. Juan Diego in Mexico in the 16th century, the locals were sacrificing close to 9,000 people a year to appease their gods. Our Lady of Guadalupe put an end to that human sacrifice within just a few years. Saying a rosary on Saturdays for the unborn and their mothers is a good starting point. Fr. Pavone stated most women have abortions out of despair; they lose hope and fear they will not be able to take care of their unborn child.
St. Ignatius of Loyola said, “We should pray as if everything depended on God, and work as if everything depended on us.” The bottom line is, abortion is big business – a billion dollar industry. Planned Parenthood is the biggest abortion provider in the country, and a staunch advocate of the incorrectly defined “reproductive rights.” It also receive federal funding every year. I feel we as Catholics are not vocal enough in the political arena concerning this issue. More of our legislative representatives need to hear of our disapproval of tax money going to Planned Parenthood.
Finally, let's us be conscious of the women and men, Catholic or not, in need of healing and forgiveness caused by the sin of abortion. They are also tragic victims, as are the aborted children. As part of the of the wounded Body of Christ, they need the hope of God's infinite mercy and healing in the Person of the Divine Healer, Jesus Christ. An organization called Rachel's Vineyard facilitates this type of healing and forgiveness with women and men affected by abortion through weekend retreats nationwide. In Charlotte, the folks at Room at the Inn and Mother Teresa's Missionaries of Charity provide rays of hope to pregnant women in need of help.
The time to be silent is long past. Let's pray to Our Lord and ask Him how He wants us to help put an end to the scourge of abortion, which has silently ended the lives of more than 50 million unborn babies since Roe v. Wade legalized abortion on demand in a U.S. Supreme Court decision issued on a cold January day in 1973.
The Year of the Bucket
I wanted 2011 to be my best year ever in all areas of my life, so I tried to find a way for my New Year's resolutions to last for more than three weeks. I found the perfect motivation: imminent death. No, I'm not terminally ill, but like each one of us, one day, known to God alone, I will kick the proverbial bucket.
One of my favorite movies of all time is “The Bucket List,” starring Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman. I watched the Bucket List again last week as a source of inspiration before writing any resolutions down. For those not familiar with the movie, Freeman and Nicholson share the same hospital room and find out they both have terminal cancer and have just a few months to live. Nicholson's character is a multimillionaire, with multiple ex-wives and a estranged relationship with his only daughter. Freeman is a mechanic, who sacrificed his career ambitions to put his three kids through college. Chemotherapy and sleepless nights becomes their common bond, and the two men quickly become friends. Act two begins with Freeman making a list of all the things he would like to do before he dies. He calls it a “bucket list.” Nicholson sees the list, ads a few more exciting things to it and decides to pick up the tab to complete the list. They go skydiving, race car driving, and even take a trip around the world in Nicholson's private jet.
While watching the movie, I asked myself, “What would I do if I knew I was going to die on December 31, 2011?” My New Year's resolutions then turned into my Last Year's resolutions. It was a scary yet sobering thought. At the beginning of the Bucket List, the narrator---Freeman, of course--- says that when Jack Nicholson's character died “his eyes were closed, and his heart was open.” That was the clue to what I would do with my bucket year. I realized that instead of things to do, I had people to love.
First on my list is to deepen my relationship with God and neighbor. However, to love God is always easier than to love God in those around us. Our families and those close to us could be toughest people to love at times. I'm also certain that they would say the same thing about loving us back.
At the climax of the movie, Nicholson gets upset with Freeman because he tried to arrange for Nicholson to reconcile with his daughter without his consent. The two then part ways abruptly, only to reunite weeks later right before Freeman's character dies. Freeman writes a letter to Nicholson before his passing and tells Jack to find the “joy in his life.” Nicholson then musters enough courage to reconcile with his daughter, and the rest is a happy ending.
John Meyer's “Say” was the theme song for the movie. The lyrics appropriately chime: “Say what you need to say; for it's better to say too much than to say nothing at all.” I think to live without regrets is to have no unresolved issues with those around us at the hour of our death. Perhaps three of the most difficult words to say in the English language are: “I'm sorry;” “I love you;” or “I forgive you.”
While I don't wish for anyone to die this year, and God-willing most of us will not, I think it's important to keep our mortality always before us. If we do, it will remind us to love God and our neighbor at all times, so like Jesus we could die with our eyes closed and our hearts open.
One of my favorite movies of all time is “The Bucket List,” starring Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman. I watched the Bucket List again last week as a source of inspiration before writing any resolutions down. For those not familiar with the movie, Freeman and Nicholson share the same hospital room and find out they both have terminal cancer and have just a few months to live. Nicholson's character is a multimillionaire, with multiple ex-wives and a estranged relationship with his only daughter. Freeman is a mechanic, who sacrificed his career ambitions to put his three kids through college. Chemotherapy and sleepless nights becomes their common bond, and the two men quickly become friends. Act two begins with Freeman making a list of all the things he would like to do before he dies. He calls it a “bucket list.” Nicholson sees the list, ads a few more exciting things to it and decides to pick up the tab to complete the list. They go skydiving, race car driving, and even take a trip around the world in Nicholson's private jet.
While watching the movie, I asked myself, “What would I do if I knew I was going to die on December 31, 2011?” My New Year's resolutions then turned into my Last Year's resolutions. It was a scary yet sobering thought. At the beginning of the Bucket List, the narrator---Freeman, of course--- says that when Jack Nicholson's character died “his eyes were closed, and his heart was open.” That was the clue to what I would do with my bucket year. I realized that instead of things to do, I had people to love.
First on my list is to deepen my relationship with God and neighbor. However, to love God is always easier than to love God in those around us. Our families and those close to us could be toughest people to love at times. I'm also certain that they would say the same thing about loving us back.
At the climax of the movie, Nicholson gets upset with Freeman because he tried to arrange for Nicholson to reconcile with his daughter without his consent. The two then part ways abruptly, only to reunite weeks later right before Freeman's character dies. Freeman writes a letter to Nicholson before his passing and tells Jack to find the “joy in his life.” Nicholson then musters enough courage to reconcile with his daughter, and the rest is a happy ending.
John Meyer's “Say” was the theme song for the movie. The lyrics appropriately chime: “Say what you need to say; for it's better to say too much than to say nothing at all.” I think to live without regrets is to have no unresolved issues with those around us at the hour of our death. Perhaps three of the most difficult words to say in the English language are: “I'm sorry;” “I love you;” or “I forgive you.”
While I don't wish for anyone to die this year, and God-willing most of us will not, I think it's important to keep our mortality always before us. If we do, it will remind us to love God and our neighbor at all times, so like Jesus we could die with our eyes closed and our hearts open.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Got Bread?
Jesus is hungry, and all He wants for Christmas is for us to feed Him.
Last month, during Thanksgiving week, I was approached by three young girls outside of a grocery store and asked if I wanted to donate money to help feed the homeless for Thanksgiving. I was impressed by the young ladies’ zeal to help the hungry, and in exchange for a small contribution, they gave me a wristband that read "End Hunger." I wear the wristband daily now as a reminder of my Christian responsibility to help alleviate the real struggle some less fortunate men and women endure to obtain their daily bread.
While Jesus said in the Gospel "For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you will, you can do good to them" (Mk 14:7), and hunger most likely will never end until His return, Mother Teresa of Calcutta used to say that Jesus "hides" in the poorest of the poor, and it was Christ whom she served in them. St. Francis of Assisi said, "The poor don’t need us. We need the poor to show God we love Him."
However, we don’t have to be a mystic to recognize our obligation to perform the corporal works of mercy. All we need is to heed Jesus words in the Gospel: "For I was hungry, and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me," (Mt 25:35).
As with everything we do in our daily lives, we should ask Our Lord in prayer how He wants us to feed Him. All it requires is a slight shift in our spiritual awareness in how we relate to the needy in society. Perhaps, a good time to pray about it could be during our family meals. A simple phrase like, "Lord, let us be mindful of those who will go without today," could carry a lot of spiritual weight, and I’m confident the Lord will present us with ample opportunities to help others. The person ringing the bell outside your grocery store at this time of year would take on a whole new meaning. Our maybe, an invitation from a fellow parishioner to help feed the homeless at the shelter this month could be the catalyst to encourage us to look beyond ourselves during the season.
This Christmas time, let’s not forget that God chose to be born hidden in a stable and revealed Himself to the simple shepherds on that holy night. Let’s recognize the hungry Christ hidden in plain sight among us, and feed Him to the best of our capabilities. In that way, we will truly echo the choir of angels when we sing on Christmas Eve, "‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men with whom he is pleased!’" (Lk 2:14).
Last month, during Thanksgiving week, I was approached by three young girls outside of a grocery store and asked if I wanted to donate money to help feed the homeless for Thanksgiving. I was impressed by the young ladies’ zeal to help the hungry, and in exchange for a small contribution, they gave me a wristband that read "End Hunger." I wear the wristband daily now as a reminder of my Christian responsibility to help alleviate the real struggle some less fortunate men and women endure to obtain their daily bread.
While Jesus said in the Gospel "For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you will, you can do good to them" (Mk 14:7), and hunger most likely will never end until His return, Mother Teresa of Calcutta used to say that Jesus "hides" in the poorest of the poor, and it was Christ whom she served in them. St. Francis of Assisi said, "The poor don’t need us. We need the poor to show God we love Him."
However, we don’t have to be a mystic to recognize our obligation to perform the corporal works of mercy. All we need is to heed Jesus words in the Gospel: "For I was hungry, and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me," (Mt 25:35).
As with everything we do in our daily lives, we should ask Our Lord in prayer how He wants us to feed Him. All it requires is a slight shift in our spiritual awareness in how we relate to the needy in society. Perhaps, a good time to pray about it could be during our family meals. A simple phrase like, "Lord, let us be mindful of those who will go without today," could carry a lot of spiritual weight, and I’m confident the Lord will present us with ample opportunities to help others. The person ringing the bell outside your grocery store at this time of year would take on a whole new meaning. Our maybe, an invitation from a fellow parishioner to help feed the homeless at the shelter this month could be the catalyst to encourage us to look beyond ourselves during the season.
This Christmas time, let’s not forget that God chose to be born hidden in a stable and revealed Himself to the simple shepherds on that holy night. Let’s recognize the hungry Christ hidden in plain sight among us, and feed Him to the best of our capabilities. In that way, we will truly echo the choir of angels when we sing on Christmas Eve, "‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men with whom he is pleased!’" (Lk 2:14).
God's Dream for Us
Advent is a time to “stay awake” and be watchful “for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect” (Mt. 24:44).
I’ve always had a hard time grasping why the Church focuses on the Second Coming of Jesus during Christ the King Sunday and for most of the Advent season. With the beginning of the new liturgical year on the first Sunday of Advent, and Christmas less than a month away, it just doesn’t seem like “Christmas Spirit” to hear about the “end times” – or in Church parlance, the four “last things”: death, judgment, heaven and hell.
However, it is important to remember that Jesus Christ is the “spirit” of Christmas. The reason He was born was to die for us, so if we live and die for Him, we could live with Him forever at the end of our lives. In this way, the two celebrations are understandably linked.
I’m not a George Clooney fan, but I recently watched the movie “Up in the Air.” In the movie during one of the many firings Clooney conducted, he had a line that stuck in my mind. After looking at a disgruntled employee’s resume, Clooney tells the man, “Do you know why people admire professional athletes? Because they follow their dreams.” Apparently the guy he was firing had studied culinary arts earlier in his career, and Clooney wanted to redirect the employee back to his initial calling to be a chef.
After reflecting on that statement, I pictured myself face to face with Jesus after I died, and I imagined Him asking me, “Do you know why people admire the saints? Because they followed my Father’s dream.”
God’s dream for each one of us is to be spiritually perfect, like Him, and it’s in the pursuit of our spiritual perfection that we become holy. As it is, we are all a work in progress, and it is up to us to choose the speed of our progress.
Similar to the U.S. Army’s recruiting slogan, one could say that the motto for God’s army is: “Be all that I created you to be.”
In the letter to the Romans, St. Paul gives us a timeless blueprint to help us become all that God wants us to be: “But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires” (Rom 13:14).
Although Advent has a penitential dimension to it, just as Lent does to a greater extent, perhaps we should approach Advent in a more literal way: as a new beginning in our spiritual lives. The Advent season is a good time to avail ourselves of the sacrament of reconciliation and atone for our sins by helping the poor and the marginalized according to our state of life, “since love covers a multitude of sins” (1 Pet 4:8).
This Advent, let’s live out the Father’s dream and prepare ourselves for the return of our King, “For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed” (Rom 13:11).
I’ve always had a hard time grasping why the Church focuses on the Second Coming of Jesus during Christ the King Sunday and for most of the Advent season. With the beginning of the new liturgical year on the first Sunday of Advent, and Christmas less than a month away, it just doesn’t seem like “Christmas Spirit” to hear about the “end times” – or in Church parlance, the four “last things”: death, judgment, heaven and hell.
However, it is important to remember that Jesus Christ is the “spirit” of Christmas. The reason He was born was to die for us, so if we live and die for Him, we could live with Him forever at the end of our lives. In this way, the two celebrations are understandably linked.
I’m not a George Clooney fan, but I recently watched the movie “Up in the Air.” In the movie during one of the many firings Clooney conducted, he had a line that stuck in my mind. After looking at a disgruntled employee’s resume, Clooney tells the man, “Do you know why people admire professional athletes? Because they follow their dreams.” Apparently the guy he was firing had studied culinary arts earlier in his career, and Clooney wanted to redirect the employee back to his initial calling to be a chef.
After reflecting on that statement, I pictured myself face to face with Jesus after I died, and I imagined Him asking me, “Do you know why people admire the saints? Because they followed my Father’s dream.”
God’s dream for each one of us is to be spiritually perfect, like Him, and it’s in the pursuit of our spiritual perfection that we become holy. As it is, we are all a work in progress, and it is up to us to choose the speed of our progress.
Similar to the U.S. Army’s recruiting slogan, one could say that the motto for God’s army is: “Be all that I created you to be.”
In the letter to the Romans, St. Paul gives us a timeless blueprint to help us become all that God wants us to be: “But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires” (Rom 13:14).
Although Advent has a penitential dimension to it, just as Lent does to a greater extent, perhaps we should approach Advent in a more literal way: as a new beginning in our spiritual lives. The Advent season is a good time to avail ourselves of the sacrament of reconciliation and atone for our sins by helping the poor and the marginalized according to our state of life, “since love covers a multitude of sins” (1 Pet 4:8).
This Advent, let’s live out the Father’s dream and prepare ourselves for the return of our King, “For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed” (Rom 13:11).
We Are All Called to be Holy
While teaching a CCD class recently to a group of third- and fourth-graders, I shocked them when I said we are all called to be saints. One student let out a loud “What?!” and the incredulous blank stares on the others confirmed he spoke for the entire class.
I was telling the kids about the life of St. Francis of Assisi, and how God's plan for us is to accomplish our unique mission in life with His help and then enjoy Heaven with Him forever.
The students’ reaction reminded me that perhaps we don't hear often enough about our essential purpose in life: our call to holiness.
On Nov. 1, the Church celebrated one of my favorite feast days: the Solemnity of All Saints. I love it not only because of my special devotion to some of the saints, but because it reminds me of what I could become with the help of God's grace.
As a part of the Communion of Saints, we, the Pilgrim Church on earth, by virtue of our baptism, share in the joy and prayers of the Church Triumphant in Heaven, better known as All Saints. The saints love to intercede for us even more than we like to ask them to pray for us. They want us to make it to Heaven and be with God and them when we die.
The question is: Do we want to go?
As Catholics living in today’s material world, we need to be reminded of the real meaning of life. The Baltimore Catechism taught: “We were created to know, love and serve God in this life, and to be happy with Him in Heaven.” More recently, the Church during Vatican II, in “The Church in the Modern World,” restated this goal as “the universal call to holiness.”
Today, though, the Church has to compete with Facebook, Twitter and PlayStation to get this message across to younger Catholics. And we have to concentrate even more on our true purpose, not being distracted by the daily grind of life.
Like many people, I once assumed that only priests and religious had the responsibility to be holy since most saints in Church history had followed a religious or priestly vocation. Religious achieve their sanctity by serving the Church in their unique ways, or “charisms,” and also by praying for the needs of the Church. Priests are ordained to sanctify the laity by saying Mass and administering the sacraments to us and achieving their salvation in the process.
But we can also become saints – in spite of the daily grind – when we bring Christ into our homes, the workplace and the social arena. That's no easy task and can only be achieved through prayer, the sacraments and reading the Scriptures – the same way the saints did.
Most of us may never be canonized and have the title “saint” added to our names after we die. However, if we keep life’s ultimate purpose in sight at all times, our names will be written in the Book of Life, and the Church and our loved ones will remember us as the faithful departed
I was telling the kids about the life of St. Francis of Assisi, and how God's plan for us is to accomplish our unique mission in life with His help and then enjoy Heaven with Him forever.
The students’ reaction reminded me that perhaps we don't hear often enough about our essential purpose in life: our call to holiness.
On Nov. 1, the Church celebrated one of my favorite feast days: the Solemnity of All Saints. I love it not only because of my special devotion to some of the saints, but because it reminds me of what I could become with the help of God's grace.
As a part of the Communion of Saints, we, the Pilgrim Church on earth, by virtue of our baptism, share in the joy and prayers of the Church Triumphant in Heaven, better known as All Saints. The saints love to intercede for us even more than we like to ask them to pray for us. They want us to make it to Heaven and be with God and them when we die.
The question is: Do we want to go?
As Catholics living in today’s material world, we need to be reminded of the real meaning of life. The Baltimore Catechism taught: “We were created to know, love and serve God in this life, and to be happy with Him in Heaven.” More recently, the Church during Vatican II, in “The Church in the Modern World,” restated this goal as “the universal call to holiness.”
Today, though, the Church has to compete with Facebook, Twitter and PlayStation to get this message across to younger Catholics. And we have to concentrate even more on our true purpose, not being distracted by the daily grind of life.
Like many people, I once assumed that only priests and religious had the responsibility to be holy since most saints in Church history had followed a religious or priestly vocation. Religious achieve their sanctity by serving the Church in their unique ways, or “charisms,” and also by praying for the needs of the Church. Priests are ordained to sanctify the laity by saying Mass and administering the sacraments to us and achieving their salvation in the process.
But we can also become saints – in spite of the daily grind – when we bring Christ into our homes, the workplace and the social arena. That's no easy task and can only be achieved through prayer, the sacraments and reading the Scriptures – the same way the saints did.
Most of us may never be canonized and have the title “saint” added to our names after we die. However, if we keep life’s ultimate purpose in sight at all times, our names will be written in the Book of Life, and the Church and our loved ones will remember us as the faithful departed
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