Valentine’s Day, life as a couple and Ash Wednesday

GUEST COLUMN
By Silvio Cuéllar
This February, we celebrate Valentine’s Day, the day of love and friendship. February 14 is also Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent. At first glance, many will think that we will not be able to celebrate with our partners, but there are interesting parallels between true love as a couple and Lent. During Lent, we focus mainly on three important things: prayer, fasting and charity. Likewise, to have a successful and holy marriage, it is also required to have a prayer life with Christ at the center, make many sacrifices and be generous in giving ourselves to our family as Christ offered up himself for the church.

—Prayer—
Prayer is essential for a Catholic home and a couple’s relationship to last and bear much fruit. When we look at the lives of the saints, many were the fruit of their parents’ lives of prayer.
We have the example of St. Monica, mother of St. Augustine, who persevered in prayer for many years for the conversion of her son, who, despite having had a non-exemplary life, decided at one point to embrace the faith, becoming a doctor of the church.

Silvio Cuéllar is a writer, liturgical music composer and journalist. He was coordinator of the Hispanic Ministry office and editor of the newspaper El Católico de Rhode Island, the newspaper of the Diocese of Providence. (OSV News photo/courtesy Silvio Cuéllar)

My in-laws, Paul and Barbara, are examples of prayer, sacrifices and charity. I have always admired their great faith and commitment to serving others. They adopted a child from the foster care system and, over the years, helped many single mothers financially. From them, I learned what it means to live the faith, not just in the parish, but Monday through Sunday. I remember that, at every family gathering, they would begin with a family prayer. They always led by example and never missed going to church.

One suggestion during this Lent would be to take on (or pick back up) the practice of praying the rosary as a family, giving the children the opportunity to lead a decade. Let us remember that “The family that prays together, stays together.”

—Sacrifices—
For Catholics, Ash Wednesday and Good Friday are obligatory days of fasting and abstinence. Likewise, the Fridays of Lent are days of abstinence; on those days, we abstain from eating meat. That may not be a sacrifice for you so there are many other ways in which we can practice sacrifice and fasting. For example, we can fast by limiting or eliminating social media and technology use during the 40 days of Lent.

Sacrifice is also very important for a couple. Spouses should love and make sacrifices for each other as Christ sacrificed himself for the church. This concept goes against the modern culture of instant gratification, where the “I” comes first.

At the beginning of a marriage, we go through the honeymoon or infatuation stage, where everything is rose-colored. Then comes the maturity stage, where every day we make the decision to love the person God has placed in our lives. That implies making sacrifices for the sake of our partner and family, putting them ahead of our needs.

I remember recently, the night after a very exhausting weekend, I was very tired on my way to bed when I received a call from my son at 10:30 p.m. He was at the gym and had no way to get home. Even though my body was telling me to go to bed, without a moment’s hesitation, I answered, “I will be there in 15 minutes.” As parents, we may have countless examples of how we have sacrificed for our children, including our time and income.

Another important way to make sacrifices and an excellent investment is, for example, to enroll our children in a Catholic school, where they can receive an excellent education and formation in the faith. I sometimes joke that I could be driving a luxury car with what I pay for my daughter in high school. But the truth is that as parents we know that any material sacrifice is not enough to give the best to our children.

—Charity—
Finally, Lent is a time to practice charity more intensely.

Many of our parishes participate in Catholic Relief Services’ Rice Bowl campaign to support the efforts of the U.S. bishops’ international relief agency, which helps the world’s most disadvantaged with development programs and emergency assistance. Diocesan Service Appeal campaigns also help fund diocesan ministries and local relief. Let us be generous with these opportunities and offer our generosity in our parish community.

In married life, we can focus on giving more of our time this Lent, seeking to strengthen the relationship between spouses and with our children by being more present in their lives and activities.

We can also make time to reconnect with family members with whom we have not spoken for a long time, call them to reconcile, ask forgiveness if we have offended them, give them a word of support and offer to pray for them.

This Lent, let us seek to focus on habits of prayer, fasting and charity, using our resources, time, treasure and talents to volunteer in ministries that serve and help others.

(Silvio Cuéllar is a liturgical music composer and journalist. He is a former coordinator of the Hispanic Ministry and editor of El Católico de Rhode Island newspaper in the Diocese of Providence.)

God’s Word, ‘a light for our path’

By Bishop Joseph R. Kopacz, D.D.
Pope Francis commenced with the following words in his homily for Sunday of the Word of God on Jan. 21 of this year. “We have just heard that Jesus said to them: ‘Come, follow me’ … Immediately they left their nets and followed him.” (Mark 1:17-18)

The word of God has immense power, as we heard in the first reading: “The word of God came to Jonah, saying: ‘Get up, go to Nineveh … and preach to them’ … So Jonah set out and went … according to the word of the Lord. (John 3:1-3)

“The word of God unleashes the power of the Holy Spirit, a power that draws people to God, like those young fisherman who were struck by Jesus’ words, and sends others, like Jonah, towards those distant from the Lord. The word draws us to God and sends us to others. It draws us to God and sends us to others: that is how it works. It does not leave us self-absorbed, but expands hearts, changes courses, overturns habits, opens up new scenarios and discloses unthought-of horizons … The Word makes us hear the call of Jesus. It calls us to set out with him for the sake of others. The Word makes us missionaries, God’s messengers and witnesses to a world drowning in words, yet thirsting for the very Word it so often ignores.”

Bishop Joseph R. Kopacz, D.D.

These hope-filled words of Pope Francis point to the sacred scriptures, “a lamp for our feet and a light for our path.” (Psalm 119:105) The words of Jesus, the Word made flesh – the way, the truth and the life (John 14:6) – are the most important words recorded in the Bible, and truly ever spoken in the history of the human race, words that “will never pass away.” (Matthew 24:35)

From the heart of God’s word the church celebrates a diverse legacy during the month of January. At the midpoint each year is the celebration of Martin Luther King Jr’s birthday, a time to renew our hunger for the coming of God’s Kingdom, a kingdom of justice, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. (Romans 14:17)

On Jan. 22 each year the church broadens the vision of God’s Kingdom with her unwavering commitment to life, justice and peace, and the dignity of the human being made in the image and likeness of God from the moment of conception. “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I dedicated you. (Jeremiah 1:5) “You formed my inmost being; you knit me in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am wonderfully made; wonderful are your works.” (Psalm 139:13-14)

The Word of God furthers the work of Christian unity for which the Lord so ardently prayed at the Last Supper anticipating the division that plagues the human race. “I pray not only for them, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, so that they may all be one, as you Father, are in me and I in you, that they also may be one in us, that the world may believe that you sent me.” (John 17:20-21)

The theme for this year’s week of prayer for Christian Unity is: “You shall love the Lord, your God, and your neighbor as yourself.” (Luke 10:27)

Lastly, our commitment to Catholic School education rests upon the Word of the Lord as he departed this world in his glorified body. “Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” (Matthew 28:19-20) From time immemorial education has been the centerpiece of the life of faith in the Jewish-Christian tradition.

“God made a decree to Jacob, established a law in Israel: which he commanded our ancestors, they were to teach their children; that the next generation might come to know, children yet to be born. In turn they were to recount them to their children, that they too might put their confidence in God, and not forget God’s deeds, but keep his commandments.” (Psalm 78:5-7)

May the Lord Jesus continue to bless all who labor in our diocesan catholic school system. Our schools and all of our life-long faith formation follow the way of the Lord himself who after being found teaching in the temple at 12 years of age, “went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them, and his mother kept all these things in her heart. And Jesus advanced in wisdom, knowledge and favor before God and others.” (Luke 2:52)

May the treasure of God’s Word continue to be a lamp for our feet and a light for our path.

Called by Name

Our seminarians are off and running for the new semester. Since we have a new entrant into our ranks, I’ll take a moment to update you on where everyone is.

Deacon Tristan Stovall is starting his final semester at Notre Dame Seminary in New Orleans. He will be ordained to the priesthood on May 18 at 10:30 a.m. at the Cathedral of St. Peter the Apostle in Jackson. I invite you to come and join us for this joyous occasion, especially if you have never been to an ordination before.

Will Foggo is at Notre Dame and he is preparing for a summer at St. Dominic Hopital as a chaplain. Seminarians typically take one summer to work in the hospital to help them prepare for this vital ministry upon ordination. I am so grateful to the pastoral care staff at St. Dominic who have been very supportive of our seminarians since we began working with them back in 2016. I was actually one of the first seminarians, along with now Father Mark Shoffner, who worked with the pastoral care staff.

Father Nick Adam

EJ Martin is nearing graduation from the philosophy program at Notre Dame. He’ll have four years of theology and formation training prior to ordination. Grayson Foley will graduate with his bachelor’s in philosophy from St. Joseph Seminary in Covington this May after four years of study. He’ll be transferring to Notre Dame in the fall to begin his theology studies in the same class as EJ! Grayson and EJ will both be attending the Institute for Priestly Formation in Omaha, Nebraska this summer. This program is well known and well-loved by those who have attended. It is a two-month program with seminarians from across the country with a special focus on priestly spirituality and helps future priests prioritize prayer in their ministry.

Our newest seminarians, as I’ve stated in this space recently, are Wilson Locke, Francisco Maldonado and Joe Pearson. All three of these men are in the ‘propaedeutic’ stage of their formation. This is a fancy word that means ‘preparatory.’ This stage involves a large focus on ‘habit building’ and de-emphasizes academics. The bishops want to make sure that seminarians don’t just focus on getting good grades and seeing their formation as an academic pursuit, and so the first months of formation are focused on being a man of God – creating or growing in habits of prayer, acting virtuously and building strong relationships. Wilson and Francisco enjoyed their first semester as ‘propa-dudes’ – unofficial title – and Joe is just starting his time in this stage of formation. All three of these men will be assigned at parishes this coming summer so they can get a feel for the diocese and witness diocesan priesthood in action.

We continue to pray for all our seminarians in their various stages of formation!

Father Nick Adam, vocation director

(Father Nick Adam can be contacted at nick.adam@jacksondiocese.org.)

The law of gravity and the Holy Spirit

IN EXILE
By Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI

A sound theology and a sound science will both recognize that the law of gravity and the Holy Spirit are one in the same principle. There isn’t a different spirit undergirding the physical than the spiritual. There’s one spirit that’s speaking through both the law of gravity and the Sermon on the Mount.

If we recognized that same Spirit is present in everything, in physical creation, in love, in beauty, in human creativity and in human morality; we could hold more things together in a fruitful tension rather than putting them in opposition and having the different gifts of the God’s Spirit fight each other. What does this mean?

We have too many unhealthy dichotomies in our lives. Too often we find ourselves choosing between things that should not be in opposition to each other and are in the unhappy position of having to pick between two things which are both, in themselves, good. We live in a world in which, too often, the spiritual is set against the physical, morality is set against creativity, wisdom is set against education, commitment is set against sex, conscience is set against pleasure, and personal fidelity is set against creative and professional success.

Padre Ron Rolheiser, OMI

Obviously there’s something wrong here. If one force, God’s Spirit, is the single source that animates all these things then clearly we should not be in a position of having to choose between them. Ideally we should be choosing both because the one, same Spirit undergirds both.

Is this true? Is the Holy Spirit both the source of gravity and the source of love? Yes. At least if the Scriptures are to be believed. They tell us that the Holy Spirit is both a physical and a spiritual force, the source of all physicality and of all spirituality all at the same time.

We first meet the person of the Holy Spirit in the opening line of the Bible: In the beginning there was a formless void and the Spirit of God hovered over the chaos. In the early chapters of the Scriptures, the Holy Spirit is presented as a physical force, a wind that comes from the very mouth of God and not only shapes and orders physical creation but is also the energy that lies at the base of everything, animate and inanimate alike: Take away your breath, and everything returns to dust.

The ancients believed there was a soul in everything and that soul, God’s breath, held everything together and gave it meaning. They believed this even though they did not understand, as we do today, the workings of the infra-atomic world: how the tiniest particles and energy waves already possess erotic electrical charges, how hydrogen seeks out oxygen, and how at the most elemental level of physical reality energies are already attracting and repelling each other just as people do. They could not explain these things scientifically as we can, but they recognized, just as we do, that there is already some form of “love” inside all things, however inanimate. They attributed all of this to God’s breath, a wind that comes from God’s mouth and ultimately animates rocks, water, animals and human beings.

They understood that the same breath that animates and orders physical creation is also the source of all wisdom, harmony, peace, creativity, morality and fidelity. God’s breath was understood to be as moral as it is physical, as unifying as it is creative, and as wise as it is daring. For them, the breath of God was one force and it did not contradict itself. The physical and the spiritual world were not set against each other. One Spirit was understood to be the source of both.

We need to understand things in the same way. We need to let the Holy Spirit, in all its fullness, animate our lives. What this means concretely is that we must not let ourselves be energized and driven too much by one part of the Spirit to the detriment of other parts of that same Spirit.

Thus, there shouldn’t be creativity in the absence of morality, education in the absence of wisdom, sex in the absence of commitment, pleasure in the absence of conscience, and artistic or professional achievement in the absence of personal fidelity. Not least, there shouldn’t be a good life for some in the absence of justice for everyone. Conversely, however, we need to be suspicious of ourselves when we are moral but not creative, when our wisdom fears critical education, when our spirituality has a problem with pleasure, and when our personal fidelity is over-defensive in the face of art and achievement. One Spirit is the author of all of these. Hence, we must be equally sensitive to each of them.

Someone once quipped that a heresy is something that is nine-tenths true. That’s our problem with the Holy Spirit. We’re forever into partial truth when we don’t allow for a connection between the law of gravity and the Sermon on the Mount.

(Oblate Father Ron Rolheiser is a theologian, teacher and award-winning author. He can be contacted through his website www.ronrolheiser.com.)

I love a foggy morning

On Ordinary Times
By Lucia A. Silecchia

Perhaps this is a luxury I can enjoy because I am not a pilot, a seafarer or a driver on winding country roads. For those such as these, the inability to see in the distance is not a welcome treat.

But, when I wake up in the morning, look out my seventh story window and see a milky dew fill the air, it brings a special peace. This peace lasts even when I leave home if the streets and sidewalks are still shrouded with early morning mist.

I think my fondness for fog comes in the way it hides all that lies in the distance and forces me to pay attention, willingly or not, only to those things that are close at hand.

Perhaps I appreciate this because, sometimes there is a wisdom to living life inspired by foggy mornings.
Typically, when someone describes feeling “in a fog” this is meant in the pejorative, as something to be avoided. Yet, there is also a beauty in taking time to gaze only on that which is nearby. So often, it is tempting to spend the day looking into the distance and into the future, rather than focusing on that which is up front and close by.

Lucia A. Silecchia

How often do we listen to someone across the table from us, while thinking about the texts we want to answer? How often do we hear someone speaking while we are busily planning ahead for how we will respond? How often do we greet small children by asking them what they want to be when they grow up rather than enjoying who they are? How often do we watch a play or listen to a concert while our minds wander to what the workday will hold the following morning?

How often do we gaze at the mountain in the distance without seeing the wildflowers that bloom next to us at the side of the road? How often do we pray for the “big” things in life, without seeking God’s sustenance in the daily bread of everyday life? How often do we spend our attention on the important things we plan to do someday, without noticing the little things we can do today? How often is it easier to appreciate the sights we seek a world away than it is to appreciate the highlights of our own hometowns?

I admire those who live with the grace to see the needs of the person before them, know the need to walk with God in the present moment, and do not fail to miss the opportunity to stretch out a hand to help today, not tomorrow.

When a fog rolls in, we have no choice but to live with the distance hidden for a time. Willingly or not, the beautiful and the frightening, the pleasant and the disturbing things that lie beyond are hidden. When those things lie beyond our line of sight, there is nothing to do except to focus on that which is nearby.
Yes, life cannot be lived entirely this way. Planning and keeping an eye to the future have their place and are important parts of responsible adulthood.

Nevertheless, I would still like to live with a lesson from a foggy morning. Sometimes, it is just as important to surrender the future and the far away. Sometimes, it is a gift to gaze only at the blessings and burdens close at hand. Sometimes, it is worth letting the fog roll in to our ordinary time.

(Lucia A. Silecchia is a Professor of Law and Associate Dean for Faculty Research at the Catholic University of America’s Columbus School of Law. Email her at silecchia@cua.edu.)

Of worrying and wild things

FOR THE JOURNEY
By Effie Caldarola

Walking through the park on a brisk winter morning, I glance at the parking lot near the playground and notice a colorful van.

I see big letters on its side panel: “Worry First.”

Wait a minute. I look again. Actually, it says “Worry Free,” the slogan of a utility company’s appliance service. I chuckle. I’ve proven something I know about myself all too well. I am a worrier, and I just let my eyes deceive me. Is that my slogan, I wonder, “worry first?”

We all worry. We worry about the future, about all the things that could go wrong. On the one hand, it’s good to be prepared, but worrying is a spiritual problem. A very human one, but a problem nonetheless.
In Wendell Berry’s poem, “The Peace of Wild Things,” he writes of waking in the night “in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be.” How many of us can identify with that?

Nighttime is the perfect incubator of worry.

Berry tells us that he goes into nature when these fears arise, and I believe he’s speaking metaphorically when he writes, “I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the heron feeds.”

His next line is one I have memorized: “I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief.”

Effie Caldarola

How much time do we waste taxing our lives with “forethought of grief?” Of all the species in this world, we humans are the only ones who worry about all the “what ifs.” The birds of the air make nests, and they carefully find a spot to protect their eggs from predators. But they are called to this, and they do it naturally and without worry. They live in each present moment.

Once a spiritual director was encouraging me to trust God more. She mentioned Jesus’ admonition (Mt 10:29-31), “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.”

I immediately mentioned the birds that would occasionally crash into my plate glass front window. Was God caring for them? My director smiled. They died without worry, she said. No forethought of grief burdened them.

Turning away from worry does not mean our lives will be without struggle, illness, frustration and certain death. Turning away from worry means that in the moment, in each precious and passing moment, we accept the presence of God with us through it all.

In Jesuit Father James Martin’s book, “Come Forth,” about Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead, he talks about what some psychologists call “catastrophizing,” always focusing on the negative. He gives examples: “a bumpy airplane ride meant that we were crashing … a mildly critical remark from a friend meant that he hated me.”

This thinking the worst, expecting the worst or worrying about every possibility can dominate our lives.
“There’s a reason,” writes Martin, “that they call Satan ‘the Prince of Lies.’ If Satan can get you to focus on only the negatives, you are living a lie.”

Anxiety, another spiritual director told me, means a lack of trust. I was taken aback by this comment, because I know that some people are plagued by genuine anxiety for which they may need medical help.
But for the anxiety that taxes my life, the worry that exhorts payment in wasted time, wasted opportunities and lost sleep, I know that God is the answer. Making the choice in each present moment to not “worry first” is a step on the spiritual journey.

(Effie Caldarola is a wife, mom and grandmother who received her master’s degree in pastoral ministry from Seattle University.)

Ley de Gravedad y Espíritu Santo

Por Ron Rolheiser
Una teología sólida y una ciencia sólida reconocerán que la ley de la gravedad y el Espíritu Santo son uno en el mismo principio.

No hay un espíritu diferente al de lo espiritual que sustenta lo físico. Hay un espíritu que habla tanto a través de la ley de la gravedad como del Sermón del Monte.

Si reconociéramos que ese mismo Espíritu está presente en todo, en la creación física, en el amor, en la belleza, en la creatividad humana y en la moral humana; podríamos mantener más cosas juntas en una tensión fructífera en lugar de ponerlas en oposición y que los diferentes dones del Espíritu de Dios luchen entre sí.

¿Qué quiere decir esto?

Tenemos demasiadas dicotomías nocivas en nuestras vidas. Con demasiada frecuencia nos encontramos eligiendo entre cosas que no deberían estar en oposición entre sí y nos encontramos en la infeliz posición de tener que elegir entre dos cosas que son buenas en sí mismas.

Una ilustración de Sandro Botticelli del abismo infernal de la “Divina Comedia” de Dante Alighieri forma parte de la colección de manuscritos de la Biblioteca Vaticana. Recientemente el Papa Francisco dijo en una entrevista que “Es difícil imaginarlo. Lo que yo diría no es un dogma de fe, sino mi pensamiento personal: me gusta pensar que el infierno está vacío; espero que así sea”. (Foto de OSV News/cortesía de la Biblioteca del Vaticano)

Vivimos en un mundo en el que, con demasiada frecuencia, lo espiritual se opone a lo físico, la moralidad se opone a la creatividad, la sabiduría se opone a la educación, el compromiso se opone al sexo, la conciencia se opone al placer y la fidelidad personal se opone a la creatividad. y éxito profesional.

Obviamente hay algo mal aquí. Si una fuerza, el Espíritu de Dios, es la única fuente que anima todas estas cosas, entonces claramente no deberíamos estar en una posición de tener que elegir entre ellas. Idealmente deberíamos elegir ambos porque el mismo Espíritu sustenta a ambos.

¿Es esto cierto? ¿Es el Espíritu Santo a la vez la fuente de la gravedad y la fuente del amor?

Sí. Al menos si hay que creer en las Escrituras.

Padre Ron Rolheiser, OMI

Nos dicen que el Espíritu Santo es una fuerza física y espiritual, la fuente de toda fisicalidad y de toda espiritualidad al mismo tiempo. Encontramos por primera vez a la persona del Espíritu Santo en la primera línea de la Biblia: En el principio había un vacío informe y el Espíritu de Dios se cernía sobre el caos. En los primeros capítulos de las Escrituras, el Espíritu Santo se presenta como una fuerza física, un viento que proviene de la misma boca de Dios y que no sólo da forma y ordena la creación física sino que también es la energía que se encuentra en la base de todo lo animado. e inanimados por igual: Quita el aliento, y todo vuelve al polvo.
Los antiguos creían que había un alma en todo y que esa alma, el aliento de Dios, mantenía todo unido y le daba significado.

!ORA!, !SONRIE!, !ESCUCHA!, !HABLA!, !ÁNIMO!, !ESCUCHA DE NUEVO!, etc, se leen en una pantalla de computadora llena de notas sobre cómo ayudar y animar a otros a considerar hacia qué están siendo llamados por Dios. (Foto de noticias OSV/Gerd Altmann, Pixabay)

Creían esto a pesar de que no entendían, como lo hacemos hoy, el funcionamiento del mundo infraatómico: cómo las partículas y ondas de energía más pequeñas ya poseen cargas eléctricas eróticas, cómo el hidrógeno busca oxígeno y cómo, en el nivel más elemental, de la realidad física las energías ya se están atrayendo y repeliendo unas a otras tal como lo hace la gente.
No podían explicar estas cosas científicamente como nosotros podemos, pero reconocieron, al igual que nosotros, que ya existe alguna forma de “amor” dentro de todas las cosas, por inanimadas que sean. Todo esto lo atribuían al soplo de Dios, un viento que sale de la boca de Dios y que en última instancia anima las rocas, el agua, los animales y los seres humanos.
Entendieron que el mismo aliento que anima y ordena la creación física es también fuente de toda sabiduría, armonía, paz, creatividad, moral y fidelidad.
Se entendía que el aliento de Dios era tan moral como físico, tan unificador como creativo y tan sabio como audaz. Para ellos, el soplo de Dios era una fuerza y no se contradecía.
El mundo físico y el espiritual no estaban enfrentados entre sí. Se entendía que un Espíritu era la fuente de ambos.
Necesitamos entender las cosas de la misma manera. Necesitamos dejar que el Espíritu Santo, en toda su plenitud, anime nuestras vidas. Lo que esto significa concretamente es que no debemos dejarnos energizar e impulsar demasiado por una parte del Espíritu en detrimento de otras partes de ese mismo Espíritu.

La imagen de un hombre sumergiendo sus pies en el agua de un lago ilustra la discusión de un escritor sobre cómo responder a la preocupación, incluso en la vida de fe. (Foto de noticias OSV/Pixabay)

Así, no debería haber creatividad sin moralidad, educación sin sabiduría, sexo sin compromiso, placer sin conciencia, ni logros artísticos o profesionales sin fidelidad personal.
Lo que es más importante, no debería haber una buena vida para algunos si no hay justicia para todos.
Sin embargo, a la inversa, debemos desconfiar de nosotros mismos cuando somos morales pero no creativos, cuando nuestra sabiduría teme la educación crítica, cuando nuestra espiritualidad tiene problemas con el placer y cuando nuestra fidelidad personal se muestra demasiado defensiva frente al arte y al logro. Un Espíritu es el autor de todos estos. Por tanto, debemos ser igualmente sensibles con cada uno de ellos.
Alguien una vez bromeó diciendo que una herejía es algo que tiene nueve décimas partes de verdad. Ese es nuestro problema con el Espíritu Santo. Siempre nos quedamos en una verdad parcial cuando no permitimos una conexión entre la ley de la gravedad y el Sermón del Monte.

(El padre oblato Ron Rolheiser es teólogo, maestro y autor galardonado. Se le puede contactar a través de su sitio web www.ronrolheiser.com. Facebook/ronrolheiser)

Five events in 2024 to help us be better Catholics

Guest Column
By Gretchen R. Crowe
As we flip the calendar to 2024, I must admit the thought of the coming 12 months fill me with a certain amount of dread. Entering into another election year, with all of the related political drama, can feel anxiety-inducing, to say the least.
Thankfully, as people of faith, we know that our hope is found not in political parties or their candidates but in Jesus Christ and his church. So, instead of dreading the first Tuesday in November and the inevitably contentious lead-up, here are five events Catholics can anticipate with joy this calendar year.
–The National Eucharistic Congress and related events
In the unlikely off-chance that you haven’t heard, the first National Eucharistic Congress in the United States in almost 50 years will be held in Indianapolis in July. The event will include nationally-recognized speakers, opportunities for worship and Eucharistic adoration, and plenty of time to deepen one’s understanding and love of the Eucharist. The organizing committee has taken several steps to make the event more affordable for families in recent months, including adding the option of purchasing day passes. Leading up to the national event will be four pilgrimages, starting from different points in the country. And parishes will continue planning and holding events as part of the National Eucharistic Revival’s parish year – events that Catholics should make every effort to participate in.

Gretchen R. Crowe

–Synod on Synodality, Part 2
In October, the second part of the two-part Synod on Synodality will take place in Rome. After round one this past October, we have more of a sense of what to expect this year. We also have a synthesis document that we can continue to digest. And we have more ideas of how we might incorporate synodality in our parish communities and in our lives in general. It’s always a good time to listen to and learn from one another, especially within the context of faith, but doing so in 2024 is particularly timely in the life of the church.
–Reopening of Notre Dame Cathedral in December
Five years ago this coming April, the world stopped in its tracks as flames devoured portions of the historic and beloved Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris. It was an event that brought nations together in sorrow. On Dec. 8, 2024, the world once again will come together – but this time in joy for the cathedral’s scheduled reopening. “Never has anyone alive seen Notre Dame as we shall see it,” Father Olivier Ribadeau Dumas, rector-archpriest of the cathedral, told OSV News in a recent interview. It’s enough to make you want to book a flight to the City of Light to celebrate.
–10 years since sainthood
On April 27, the church will mark 10 years since the canonization of Sts. John Paul II and John XXIII. This milestone offers us the chance to pause and reflect on these two monumental figures of the 20th century. “They lived through the tragic events of that century, but they were not overwhelmed by them,” Pope Francis said at the canonization Mass. “For them, God was more powerful; faith was more powerful – faith in Jesus Christ the Redeemer of man and the Lord of history; the mercy of God, shown by those five wounds, was more powerful; and more powerful too was the closeness of Mary our Mother.” This year is the perfect time to grow in devotion to these two saints who made such an impact on the church.
–A new jubilee year
Finally, the start of the 2025 ordinary jubilee year, a time of great grace for the church, will begin on Dec. 24, 2024, with the opening of the Holy Door at St. Peter’s Basilica. Pope Francis has asked that Catholics worldwide prepare for the jubilee year by studying the documents of the Second Vatican Council, especially its four constitutions. The pope has also asked that Catholics enter into a year of preparatory prayer in 2024. To that end, forthcoming from the Dicastery for Evangelization will be an “in-depth series” called “Notes on Prayer” that will promote “the centrality of prayer, personal and communal,” according to Archbishop Rino Fisichella, pro-prefect for the dicastery.
We might be facing a contentious election season this year, but we can never forget how much we have to look forward to. May your 2024 be filled with joy.

(Gretchen R. Crowe is the editor-in-chief of OSV News.)

I remember it well

On Ordinary times
By Lucia A. Silecchia
Many years ago, I stopped at the supermarket for groceries on my way home from work. The gentleman who rang up my order said, “that will be nineteen eighty-nine, miss.” I ran my credit card through the terminal, authorizing the charge of $19.89.
It was then that the cashier said, either to himself, or to me, or to both of us, or perhaps only to God, “1989. That year …” His voice trailed off and he did not finish his thought out loud. If there had not been a lengthy line behind me, I might have stopped to ask him what it was about 1989 that crossed his mind. In retrospect, I regret that I did not – even if that would have roused the ire of other shoppers in a hurry to be on their way.
That cashier has crossed my mind from time to time since that day long ago. I have wondered what was on his mind as he thought back on that one year of his life, a year that obviously made a deep impression on him. The year 1989 may have been a good year, but the look that crossed his face led me to believe, instead, that it was a year that held sorrow in his life. I will never know. That grocery store closed years ago.

Lucia A. Silecchia

Yet, as a new year dawns I have thought of him again. All of us likely look back on certain years that have been pivotal in our own journeys through this life. Perhaps they were years of immense joy when we celebrated the births of loved ones, marriages that expanded our families, accomplishments achieved, and dreams come true. However, it is also possible – perhaps even likely – that some of the most pivotal years in our lives were those that held a measure of sorrow. Perhaps the death of a loved one, the dashing of a hope, the fading of a dream or the limitations brought on by illness made a particular year a turning point.
Now that 2024 has begun, none of us know what it will hold – for us as individuals, for those we love or for the human family. Some of us begin the year anticipating this will be a momentous year. Those whose calendars hold plans for graduations, weddings, ordinations, job changes or moves are likely to look back at 2024 as a year when life changed in a dramatic way.
Yet, at the dawn of a new year it is impossible to predict all of the unanticipated, unplanned and, yes, ordinary moments that will be less dramatic but no less profound pivot points in our lives. It is these that so often are the things that change our lives in ways we cannot yet know.
It may be a seemingly random conversation or chance encounter with a stranger that changes the course of our lives. It may be a decision to forgive another or ask forgiveness that sets a new path for a future. It may be reading a book recommended by a trusted friend or hearing a word spoken in a homily that offers insight into a truth that will shape the rest of a lifetime.
It may be in time “wasted” with the very young or the very old on a random afternoon that gives a glimpse of something we have never noticed before. It may be a glance at an explosive sunset or a sky full of stars that makes us feel small in the best possible way – and in that smallness we get our first true sense of the greatness of God.
It may be an unexpected crisis or loss that we could not foresee – a cross that breaks our heart in a way we never thought possible. And, it may be that same crisis or loss that shows us the strength a broken heart can hold and the deep kindness that dwells in the loving hearts of those who sustain us in sorrow.
When 2024 ends, many of us may look back on it with the same profound reflection as a stranger long ago pondered 1989. I hope, though, that it will not only be the big things that catch our attention this year. Often, it is those things that, at the time, seem most ordinary that leave lasting marks in our lives. So often, I have realized only in retrospect that seemingly little things have changed my life in the most unexpected and important ways.
There is something both exciting and frightening about the start of a new year with all the unknowns that lie ahead. I do not yet know if in the future I will ever say to a stranger, “2024. That year …”
But there is one thing I do know. The start of a new year is the perfect time to repeat a prayer of St. Francis de Sales that I keep in my office, so I see it every day. It pleads “Do not look forward to what may happen tomorrow; the same everlasting Father who cares for you today will take care of you tomorrow and every day.”
May God bless all that happens in the tomorrows of our ordinary times. Joyous new year!

(Lucia A. Silecchia is a Professor of Law and Associate Dean for Faculty Research at the Catholic University of America’s Columbus School of Law. Email her at silecchia@cua.edu.)

Our over-complex, tortured selves

IN EXILE
By Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI
When all is said and done, our lives are not all that serene and peaceful. In a manner of speaking, we are always somewhat pathetic. That shouldn’t scare us. Pathetic is not a pejorative term. The word comes from the Greek, pathos, which means pain. To be pathetic is to live in pain, and we all do because of the very way we are made.
You might say that doesn’t sound right. Aren’t we made in the image and likeness of God so that each of us, no matter how messed up our lives might be, carry a special dignity and a certain godliness within us? We do carry that special dignity. However, despite that and largely because of it, our lives tend to be so complex as to be pain filled. Why?

Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI

Godliness isn’t easy to carry. The infinite inside us doesn’t easily fit itself into the finite. We carry too much divine fire inside to find much peace in this life.
That struggle begins early in life. To create a self-identity as a very young child, we need to make a series of mental contractions which ultimately limit our awareness. First, we need to differentiate ourselves from others (That’s mom – I’m me); then, we need to differentiate between what is living and what is not (the puppy is alive – my doll isn’t); next, we need to differentiate between what is physical and what is mental (this is my body – but I think with my mind). Finally, and critically, as we are doing all this, we need split off as much of our luminosity we can consciously handle from what is too much to consciously handle. With that we create a self-identity – but we also create a shadow, namely, an area inside us which is split off from our consciousness.
Notice that our shadow is not first of all a looming darkness. Rather, it’s all the light and energy inside us that we cannot consciously handle. Most of us, I suspect, are familiar with the words of Marianne Williamson made famous by Nelson Mandela in his inauguration speech: Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.
Our light frightens us because it is not easy to carry. It gives us great dignity and infinite depth, but it also makes us pathologically complex and restless. Ruth Burrows, one of the foremost spiritual writers of our time, begins her autobiography with these words: I was born into this world with a tortured sensitivity and my life has not been an easy one. You wouldn’t expect those words from a mystic, from someone who has been a faithful nun for more than seventy-five years. You wouldn’t expect that her struggle in life was as much with the light within herself as with the darkness within and around her. That’s also true for each of us.
There’s a famous passage in the Book of Qoheleth where the sacred writer tells us that God has made everything beautiful in its own time. However, the passage doesn’t end on a peaceful note. It ends by telling us that, while God has made everything beautiful in its own time, God has put timelessness into the human heart so that we are congenitally out of sync with time and the seasons from beginning to end. Both our special dignity and our pathological complexity take their origins in that anomaly in our nature. We are overcharged for life on this planet.
St. Augustine gave this classic expression in his famous line: You have made us for yourself, Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you. There is an entire anthropology and spirituality in that single line. Our dignity and our perpetual restlessness have one and the same source.
Thus, you need to give yourself sacred permission for being wild of heart, restless of heart, insatiable of heart, complex of heart and driven of heart. Too often, where both psychology and spirituality have failed you is in giving you the impression that you should be living without chaos and restlessness in your life. Admittedly, these can beset you more acutely because of moral inadequacy, but they will beset you no matter how good a life you are living. Indeed, if you are a deeply sensitive person, you will probably feel your complexity more acutely than if you are less sensitive or are deadening your sensitivity with distractions.
Karl Rahner once wrote to a friend who had written to him complaining that he wasn’t finding the fulfillment he longed for in life. His friend expressed disappointment with himself, his marriage and his job. Rahner gave him this counsel: In the torment of the insufficiency of everything attainable, we ultimately learn that in this life there is no finished symphony.
There can be no finished symphony in this life – not because our souls are defective, but because they carry godliness.

(Oblate Father Ron Rolheiser is a theologian, teacher and award-winning author. He can be contacted through his website www.ronrolheiser.com.)