Called by Name

I am pleased to announce that we have a new seminarian who will be starting his formation this month. Joe Pearson is a native of Flora and attended St. Richard Elementary, St. Joseph Middle and High School, Co-Lin Community College and the University of Mississippi. He graduated from Ole Miss in December and decided to apply to enter the seminary. I have known Joe since he was in high school and am very proud that he is taking this step in his journey with the Lord. Joe knows that his decision to enter the seminary is not a decision to become a priest, but rather it is a decision to discern fully whether or not the Lord is calling him to be a priest.

Father Nick Adam

The seminary is the place where men who have the maturity and the desire go to know their vocation. The guys who enter do not know for sure that they will be ordained. They literally cannot know for sure because they are not the only ones who are making the decision. The church discerns with the man as well, and it’s my job as vocation director to help our seminarians discover their particular path. I am very happy with the group that we have studying for our diocese. I believe that each of our seminarians was called to the seminary and will become who they are called to be by the Lord, whether they get ordained or not.
Over the Christmas holidays I’ve been blessed to host three of our seminarians here at the Cathedral Rectory: Will Foggo, Wilson Locke and Francisco Maldonado. Will is one of our senior-most seminarians while Wilson and Francisco just started back in August. We had a great time and I believe that the best way to prepare men for the priesthood is to give them a realistic look at what being a priest is like. They were able to participate in various events from meetings to parties, but they also have blessed our Catholic community by their witness and their talents. Will and Francisco visited two of our elementary schools and Wilson and I will visit Sr. Thea Bowman School in January before he goes back to seminary. All of them have assisted with Masses and helped with parish activities as well.
One testament to the quality of our seminarians is the feedback that I receive from the community. Wilson and I have been going to a local gym downtown to exercise in the afternoon. One of the employees shared with me how impressed he was by Wilson’s witness when he had a brief conversation with him one day. I am grateful for our seminarians and ask you to continue praying for all of them as they embark on another semester of formation.

Father Nick Adam, vocation director

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

New seminarian, Joe Pearson pictured with Father Mark Shoffner outside St. John parish in Oxford. (Photo courtesy Father Nick Adam)

Celebrating the legacy of MLK, Jr. and Sister Thea Bowman

By Bishop Joseph R. Kopacz, D.D.
Coming out of the splendor of the Christmas season with the culminating feasts of the Epiphany and the Baptism of the Lord, we now return to ordinary time to remain steadfast in the work of the Lord to announce the Good News of Salvation, and the presence of the Kingdom of God, the work of conversion, and of justice, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit. (Romans 14:17)
The feast of the Epiphany, the manifestation of Jesus Christ to all nations, inspired us to follow the radiance of the Gospel while circumventing the power and pull of evil in our world, as did the Magi in eluding King Herod. The Baptism of the Lord inspires us as God’s children, baptized into the life-giving death and resurrection of God’s beloved Son, to hear the call of the Lord and to put it into practice as his disciples. With the Holy Spirit as out guide we pray and dedicate ourselves to the will of God “on earth as it is in heaven.” The indwelling of the Holy Spirit is the foretaste and promise of glory (2Corinthians 5:5), raising us beyond the horizon of this world to the vision of eternal life.

Bishop Joseph R. Kopacz, D.D.

The national holiday this weekend offers us the bonus of an additional day away from many of our offices and workplaces and much more in honor of Martin Luther King Jr. At our Cathedral of St. Peter the Apostle, we are going to mark this occasion in an extra special way with an additional Mass on Sunday afternoon honoring the legacy and witness of King and of our own Sister Thea Bowman, Servant of God. They were not exactly contemporaries of one another, yet they breathed the same air with the same passion for civil rights, for freedom, justice and equality for all of God’s children.
When Martin Luther King Jr. was slain in Memphis in April 1968, Sister Thea was pursuing an advanced degree at Catholic University in Washington DC. She would take up the torch for the next 20 years until her untimely death. They were committed disciples of the Lord Jesus, MLK, Jr. a Baptist, and Bowman, a Catholic, who like the Magi were inspired to live by the light of faith and the power of the Gospel.
When Pope Francis spoke to the United States Congress in 2015, he honored King as a prophetic voice for our nation’s conscience, along with Thomas Merton, Dorothy Day and Abraham Lincoln. As a national icon, Martin Luther King Jr. is a Christian prophet whose life and violent death challenge us to resist the many-sided faces of evil nonviolently. His witness still confronts us today to turn away from the sins of racism, and unbridled materialism and militarism.
On the other hand, Sister Thea is not as well known nationally but her life, cut short by cancer, also rises to the distinction of prophetic witness. She labored untiringly in the vineyard of the Lord for greater justice and peace with a passion securely anchored in the joy of the Holy Spirit. Her cause for canonization continues to gain traction in our Catholic world around our nation, while the Diocese of Jackson works behind the scenes to fulfill the requirements to move the cause forward. For example, in the recent past the diocese sponsored a documentary on her amazing life, entitled “Going Home Like a Shooting Star.” (https://bit.ly/SisterTheaFilm) Later this spring we will unveil a life-size bronze statue of Sister Thea to be nestled in the cathedral until a shrine is built in a permanent location in the diocese.
In conclusion, allow the words of these two spiritual giants to capture our imagination and vision for living.

“Everyone does not have access. When I say that, I mean that Martin Luther King Jr. was demonstrating for the rights of the poor, he was demonstrating for fair and decent housing, he was demonstrating for opportunities for adequate education. And not just adequate educational opportunity for blacks, but for all children. He was demonstrating for a land where we could love another as brothers and sisters and work together for a solution to our common problems.” (Sister Thea Bowman)
“Love yourself, if that means rational, healthy, and moral self-interest. You are commanded to do that. That is the length of life. Love your neighbor as yourself. You are commanded to do that. This is the breath of life. But never forget that there is even a greater and first commandment, ‘Love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and all thy soul and all thy mind.’ This is the height of life. And when you do this, you live the complete life.” (MLK, Jr.)

Our Lady of Guadalupe encourages me to be an authentic model of faith

By Joel Stepanek
I have a unique relationship with Mary. Like any mother and son, we’ve gone through ups and downs together. As a child, praying the rosary was often punishment for breaking the rules, usually disobedience against my parents. Not surprisingly, I resented it (though I’ve come to see some humor in that particular punishment for the offense).

As a young adult, the rosary became a comfort as I held it close with shaking hands through some of my life’s darkest and most broken moments. I cherished it.

I also have an image of Mary that was gifted to my wife and me on our wedding day that I meditate on often, yet there are other images of Mary that I find no connection with at all.
Perhaps that is the beauty of Marian imagery – it can speak to many people in many different ways.

One particular image to which I find myself particularly drawn is the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe.

It might be the story of the image that resonates — a humble farmer encounters Mary and, through his diligence, she offers an image that provides consolation and hope to the Mexican people (and to the world). The preservation of the tilma of St. Juan Diego, upon which that image is imprinted, is miraculous. But what resonates the most is Mary’s appearance, thereon.

She appears in a manner that speaks specifically to the people she is appearing to — not as an outsider, but a mother. The symbols in the image and her complexion are so indigenous to the region to the point that St. Juan Diego initially thought he beheld a native princess. In the initial apparition, Mary even speaks to him in his native language.

The original image of Our Lady of Guadalupe impressed on the cloak of St. Juan Diego is seen in the basilica in Mexico City Feb. 13, 2016. A regional assembly of the Catholic Church will be held in Mexico in November and is expected to plot a course for the church in Latin America and the Caribbean as it heads toward landmark events in the coming years, including, in 2031, the 500th anniversary of Mary’s appearance to St. Juan Diego. (CNS photo/Paul Haring)

This should not surprise. Mary is our mother; by appearing in ways we best comprehend her, she leads us to Jesus.

In this movement of Eucharistic Revival, that can be a profound reflection for us as we gaze upon Our Lady of Guadalupe: Who are we uniquely suited to bring Christ to?

Revival is a grassroots effort; it happens within each one of us. There is no strict formula for revival outside of boldly living our faith and joyfully sharing it with others. And each of us can uniquely point to Christ and speak to specific groups of people. Each of us is a living “inculturation” of Jesus.

Sometimes, I worry that many of us resist publicly leaning into our faith out of fear it will strip away the unique attributes we possess and leave a stale version of what it is to be “Catholic.” But, there is no mold to fit into and no particular icon we need to replicate. There is a deposit of faith upon which we build our lives. Beyond that, we leverage the unique gifts, talents, cultural backgrounds, and experiences that we possess to share that faith with others.

Mary, human and not divine, shows us what the living inculturation of the Gospel looks like by revealing herself as one of the people to whom she appears. Juan Diego doesn’t see an outsider; he sees a mother and trusts her. In the same way, we encounter countless people who might not recognize many expressions of Catholicism – who would find them to seem foreign and “other,” — unless they come from something authentic within us.

We can be a native representation of Christ to others when we live our faith well.

Revival happens in these moments of living inculturation as we fulfill the mission uniquely entrusted to us — and if we all lean into that reality, revival doesn’t become a possibility but an inevitable outcome.


Joel Stepanek is Chief Operating Officer for the National Eucharistic Congress, Inc. and is responsible for guiding the teams that empower and energize the grassroots efforts of the Eucharistic Revival.

¿Dónde jugarán los niños?

Por Hosffman Ospino
En 1992, la agrupación mexicana Maná lanzó uno de sus éxitos musicales más reconocidos con el título “¿Dónde jugarán los niños?” La canción en sí es una invitación a pensar en las consecuencias de vivir sin espacios en donde los niños puedan ser niños. Después de más de tres décadas, el interrogante sigue haciendo eco.

Las risas de los niños en un parque nos recuerdan qué tan importante es tener espacios seguros en donde los más pequeños, y quienes los cuidamos, podamos pasar tiempo de manera libre, espontánea y sin muchas preocupaciones.

Sí, también hay lágrimas, quejas, invitaciones a que hagamos lo que nuestros cuerpos adultos ya no pueden hacer, y de vez en cuando un pequeño golpe. Los niños se caen, se raspan las rodillas, se les enreda el cabello. Mamás, papás, abuelas y abuelos, y otras personas que cuidan niños sabemos que todo esto es parte de la experiencia de salir a jugar.

El observar a nuestros niños jugar en el parque o patio de recreo es un verdadero acto de contemplación. A medida que ellos se concentran en sus juegos, quienes les observamos experimentamos un sentido de gozo. Les observamos atentamente para estar seguros de que estén seguros y disfruten lo que hacen. A veces imagino que ésta es la manera como Dios mira a la humanidad.

Salir a jugar en un espacio abierto nos da la oportunidad de conocer a otras personas. Los niños juegan con otros niños sin prejuicio. Conversamos con vecinos y extraños que también traen a sus hijos a jugar en el mismo espacio en donde nuestros niños juegan. Aprendemos sus nombres. Compartimos historias y descubrimos lo mucho que tenemos en común. No estamos solos.

El viento sopla juguetonamente; árboles y otras plantas adornan el parque; la magnitud del espacio abierto se expande hasta perderse en múltiples horizontes. El silencio natural que caracteriza a los espacios abiertos es interrumpido por los sonidos de las voces y las risas de los niños. Al terminar el día reanuda el silencio, ansiando la llegada del siguiente día cuando los niños regresarán a jugar.

Jugar es más que participar en juegos estructurados guiados por reglas con el propósito de competir. Jugar es ante todo expresarse libremente mientras entramos en comunión con otras personas y el espacio en donde uno juega, enfocados en el presente y casi inconscientes del pasar del tiempo. Los niños hacen esto de manera espontánea e inocente. Ellos no tienen que explicarlo; seguramente no podrían hacerlo. Simplemente juegan.

Al contemplar a mis propios hijos jugando en un parque, me siento inspirado a reflexionar sobre lo hermoso que significa ser humano. Somos seres encarnados llamados a encontrar alegría en el encuentro espontáneo con otras personas mientras que disfrutamos la belleza del orden creado en donde dicho encuentro ocurre.

Qué privilegio es tener espacios en donde los niños pueden jugar y sentirse humanos. Somos bendecidos al disfrutar las condiciones que les dan a nuestros hijos el tiempo y el espacio para jugar de manera libre, espontánea y sin muchas preocupaciones.

Desde esta perspectiva, son muchos los eventos recientes en nuestro mundo me interrogan y me invitan a pensar en la realidad de cientos de millones de niños que no tienen espacios seguros, tiempo, saludo o el apoyo necesario para jugar como niños.

Las imágenes de ciudades y pueblos destruidos por causa de guerras nos deben interpelar profundamente como seres humanos. Lo mismo aquellas de pueblos abandonados porque no proveen la seguridad necesaria para vivir y formar a las nuevas generaciones Sin parques, ni campos deportivos, ni patios de recreo en las escuelas, ¿dónde jugarán los niños?

Son muchísimos los niños a los que nuestro mundo actual les está robando su infancia y la oportunidad de jugar como niños, viviendo bajo la amenaza constante de la violencia generada por el terrorismo y la guerra, el desplazamiento forzado, el tráfico de personas, gobiernos despóticos, mala legislación, hambre y abandono, entre otros males sociales. Son muchísimos los niños que mueren antes de su tiempo por causa de estas realidades sin darles siquiera la oportunidad de jugar como deberían jugar todos los niños.

(izq.) Una niña aparece en una fotografía de archivo en un parque infantil en Los Ángeles. (Foto de OSV News/Lucy Nicholson, Reuters). (der. )Los niños sostienen figuras del Belén del Niño Jesús para que el Papa Francisco las bendiga después de recitar la oración del Ángelus en la Plaza de San Pedro en el Vaticano el 17 de diciembre de 2023. (Foto CNS/Pablo Esparza)

Estos niños son los santos inocentes de nuestro día. Los podemos ver. Tienen nombres. No podemos permanecer pasivos frente a su sangre, sus lágrimas y sus temores. Abogar por la vida de todos los niños tiene que ir de la mano del compromiso de abogar por espacios seguros en donde los niños puedan jugar.

O Come, O Come Emmanuel

Bishop Joseph R. Kopacz, D.D.

By Bishop Joseph R. Kopacz, D.D.
“Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new, late have I loved you! You were within me, but I was outside, and it was there that I searched for you. In my unloveliness I plunged into the lovely things which you created. You were with me, but I was not with you. Created things kept me from you; yet if they had not been in you, they would have not been at all. You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness. You flashed, you shone, and you dispelled my blindness. You breathed your fragrance on me; I drew in breath and now I pant for you. I have tasted you, now I hunger and thirst for more. You touched me, and I burned for your peace.”

These awe-filled words of St. Augustine from Book 10 of his Confessions are indeed ever ancient and ever new. They are an echo of the voices who have summoned us to prepare a way for the Lord, the eternal beauty of whom Augustine gushes. Isaiah and St. John the Baptist on behalf of the living God, have called and shouted to break through our deafness. Though them God flashes, shines and dispels our blindness.
Both prophets in extraordinary ways bring us into the presence of the light of the world, Jesus Christ, the Son of God once again this Christmas. The words of the prophet Isaiah are the ancient origin of the liberating experience of St. Augustine nearly a millennium later.

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me because the Lord has anointed me. He has sent me to bring good news to the afflicted, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners, to announce a year of favor from the Lord.” (61:1-2)


It was and is God’s voice calling individuals and a people out of darkness into the marvelous love of the Savior. Through faith and baptism, we are the Lord’s anointed and thus charged to be bearers of the Good News though the uniqueness of our lives and circumstances of the current generation. The gift is to be shared, and the opportunities are endless.

Next, we turn to Mary, highly favored, the chosen one full of grace who was enfolded in the beauty and power of God’s love and so exclaimed for pure joy.

“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God, my Savior, for he has looked upon the lowliness of his handmaid.”

God touched her, and she was aflame in his peace. John the Baptist, the final prophet of the Old Testament, and our guide during Advent, who once leapt for joy in the womb of his mother Elizabeth in the moment of Mary’s visitation was perfectly aligned with the long-awaited Messiah as “the voice of one crying out in the desert preparing the way of the Lord.” (John 1:23) This bridge to the Reign of God knew that he was the voice, not the light, not the Word made flesh but the voice summoning people to prepare for God’s eternal beauty and power that was dawning upon them.

St. Paul encouraged the first Christians in Thessalonica to “rejoice always, pray without ceasing and give thanks in all circumstances.” (1Thessalonians 5:16-18)

How is this possible in the face of so much suffering in our age, any reasonable person might ask?
In Advent we dare to hope; we dare to dream and we sing, “O come, O come Emmanuel,” a name that means “God with us” (Matthew 1:23) and for whom nothing is impossible. (Luke 1:37) With St. Augustine may the Lord break through our deafness, dispel our blindness and inspire us to experience deeply his beauty which is pure gift, ever ancient, ever new. Come, Lord Jesus and dispel the darkness of our hearts and minds.

Merry Christmas in the light and love of Jesus Christ.

Called by name

Father Nick Adam

I have now been the Rector of the Cathedral for a year and a half, and throughout my professional life I have noticed that it takes about that amount of time to get my feet under me whenever I start something new. Being a pastor is a great responsibility but also a great source of joy as I get to walk with the parishioners here at St. Peter. While it’s a challenge to live in the two worlds of parish life and seminarian accompaniment and vocation promotion, I think that living in these two worlds has helped me realize what is ‘absolutely necessary’ and helpful to promote vocations and what isn’t.

One thing that has proven to be helpful time and time again is the ‘Come and See’ that is offered by St. Joseph Seminary College twice a year – once in the fall and once on Palm Sunday weekend in the spring. During this weekend young men are invited to come live at the seminary and hear talks from current seminarians. Our own Grayson Foley served as the emcee at one of these retreats. The Palm Sunday weekend retreat is especially helpful, I think, because the guys get to see the liturgy of the monastery in full color. Holy Week is astounding at St. Joseph Abbey, and I know that is inspiring to see so many seminarians participating in the liturgy and it is a source of grace for the discernment of those considering whether to enter the seminary or not.

So, our offerings for ‘come and see’ experiences have certainly narrowed since I became a pastor. I simply can’t organize the diocesan experiences that we had for a couple of years. But I do believe that we have sufficient resources to accompany young men considering the priesthood, and so I want to encourage you all to promote this ‘Come and See’ to the good young men in your parish. You can share this article with them if you’d like, and make sure they know that they can reach out to me via phone at (601) 969-4020 or email nick.adam@jacksondiocese.org to learn more.

At the end of this year, I’d like to thank all of you who have been consistent readers and encouragers of mine. This little article has been a labor of love for me and it’s just a way to help connect you with vocation ministry. The more we can all be on the same page about what is needed to increase vocations and bring forth men for the priesthood from our own diocese, the more faces we’ll see on that famous seminarian poster that comes out each fall. Merry Christmas, and please, continue to pray for the master of the harvest to bring forth laborers for the harvest!

                       – Father Nick Adam, vocation director

(Read about our current seminarians and their inspirational vocation stories at https://jacksondiocese.org/seminarians. Father Nick Adam can be contacted at nick.adam@jacksondiocese.org.)

Lighting an Advent candle

Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI

IN EXILE
By Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI

In the days of apartheid in South Africa, Christians there used to light candles and place them in their windows as a sign to themselves and others that they believed that someday this injustice would end. A candle burning in a window was a sign of hope and a political statement. The government didn’t miss the message. It passed a law making it illegal to place a lit candle in a window, the offense being equal to owning a firearm; both were considered equally dangerous. This eventually became a joke among the kids: “Our government is afraid of lit candles!”

And well they should be! Lit candles, more than firearms, overthrew apartheid. Hope, not guns, is what ultimately transforms things. To light a candle as an act of hope is to say to yourself and to others that, despite anything that might be happening in the world, you are still nursing a vision of peace and unity that’s based upon something beyond the present state of things and upon deeper realities and powers than what the world admits. To light a candle is to state publicly that you believe that, at the end of the day, more than what you see on the evening news will shape the final outcome of things. There are other powers also at work. To light a candle is an act of political defiance and an act of hope.

What is hope?

First, it’s not wishful thinking. I can wish to win a lottery, but that wish, in itself, contains no real power to make it happen. Second, hope is not simply temperamental optimism, an upbeat temperament that always sees the bright side of things. An unwavering optimism about things can sometimes be helpful, but it’s no basis for hope; like wishful thinking it lacks the power to make its own dream come true. Finally, hope is not simply shrewd observation and common sense, a talent for sorting out the real from the fluff. Useful as this is, it’s still not hope. Why not?

Because hope doesn’t base itself upon a shrewd assessment of the empirical facts, but upon belief in a deeper set of realities: God’s existence, God’s power, God’s goodness and the promise that flows from that.

There’s a story told about Pierre Teilhard de Chardin that helps illustrate this. Teilhard wasn’t much given to wishful thinking or even to an optimistic temperament; he tended rather toward a lonely realism. Yet he was a man of real hope. For example, on one occasion, after giving a conference where he laid out a vision within which ultimately unity and peace will be achieved on earth in a way that parallels the vision of scripture, he was challenged by some colleagues to this effect: “That’s a wonderful, idealistic vision of things, but suppose we blow up the world with a nuclear bomb, what happens to your vision then?” Teilhard replied, “that would set things back some millions of years, but this will still come to fruition, not because I say so or because the facts right now indicate that it will, but because God promised it and in the resurrection of Jesus has shown that He is powerful enough to deliver on that promise.”

Hope, as we can see from this, requires both faith and patience. It works like yeast, not like a microwave oven. Jim Wallis, the founder of Sojourners, expresses this colorfully: “All politicians are alike,” he says, “they hold a finger up and check which way the wind is blowing and then make their decisions in that direction. That will never change, even if we change politicians. So, we must change the wind! That’s hope’s task – to change the wind!”

When we look at what has morally changed this world – from the great religious traditions coming out of deserts, caves, and catacombs and helping leaven whole cultures morally, to apartheid being overthrown in South Africa – we see that it has happened precisely when individuals and groups lit candles and hoped long enough until the wind changed.

We light Advent candles with just that in mind, accepting that changing the wind is a long process, that the evening news will not always be positive, the stock markets will not always rise, the most sophisticated defenses in the world will not always protect us from terrorism, and secular liberal and conservative ideologies will not rid this planet of selfishness.

However, we continue to light candles and hope anyway, not on the basis of a worsening or improving evening newscast, but because the deepest reality of all is that God exists, that the center holds, that there’s ultimately a gracious Lord who rules this universe, and this Lord is powerful enough to rearrange the atoms of the planet and raise dead bodies to new life. We light candles of hope because God, who is the ultimate power, has promised to establish a kingdom of love and peace on this earth and is gracious, forgiving and powerful enough to eventually make it happen.

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

‘Christ before me’: Pray the Breastplate of St. Patrick at the manger

Father Patrick Briscoe, OP, is editor of Our Sunday Visitor. (OSV News photo)

Guest Column
By Father Patrick Briscoe, OP

Of all the things and people to be present at the birth of Jesus Christ, there were shepherds! I would probably have been more surprised if there were not shepherds. After all, David was a shepherd boy from Bethlehem. David taught us to pray, “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” (Ps 23:1) And Christ fulfills David.

Imagine the life of a shepherd, his days spent under the vast expanse of open sky, hills and valleys stretching out before him. St. Patrick, a shepherd himself, was no stranger to this way of life. And then, on that glorious night, the angel of the Lord announced the good news of Christ’s birth to shepherds in the fields around Bethlehem. Patrick, too, found God while pasturing sheep.

–Shepherding the shepherds

The shepherd of shepherds will lead the way through unknown paths of life. He sent his angel to lead shepherds to him. And find him they did. But regardless of what comes, each step can be taken with the assurance that the Incarnate Lord walks alongside them. In solitary pastures and on stormy nights, every shepherd will pray, “Christ with me.“

The shepherds of Bethlehem, who lived as one with their flock, discovered on Christmas night a shepherd who lives as one with them. Their lives entwined with their sheep, they find a savior whose life will be inseparable from theirs. “Christ before me,” the shepherd humbly prays, kneeling before the infant king’s crib.

Christ is there when the shepherd rises in the crisp morning air, when he sleeps beneath the starry canopy, when he breaks bread at the end of a weary day’s toil. In all these moments, “Christ behind me, Christ within me” becomes a whispered assurance that the incarnate God is there – in waking and sleeping, in moments of rest and labor. “Christ beneath me, Christ above me …”

The shepherd’s life mirrors the encompassing nature of the Incarnation. Christ isn’t a distant figure but an ever-present companion, woven into every aspect of the shepherd’s life. “Christ on my right, Christ on my left …”


–Invited to set out in our hearts


This discovery of the presence of Christ is not hypothetical. Luke’s Gospel tells us, “They made known the message that had been told them about this child. All who heard it were amazed by what had been told them by the shepherds.” (Lk 2:17-18) And just as God called the shepherds, he calls us. “Exactly the same sign has been given to us,” says Pope Benedict XVI. “We too are invited by the angel of God, through the message of the Gospel, to set out in our hearts to see the child lying in the manger.”

Weakness and sin and all, he calls us. Like a shepherd, he calls us. He calls us to come to him, to see the babe among the animals and know that he is near. “Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down …”

The mystery of Christmas is the mystery of discovering Christ among us and carrying him with us from this day on. Never do we have to be alone. Never do we have to fear. Never do we have to agonize about the way we should go. Love has come and love will lead us. “Christ when I arise …”

And, please God, may others see his love in me. “Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me, Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me …”

This Christmas, I’m praying the Breastplate of St. Patrick at the manger. And I hope you will too. Together we can think of the shepherds, and in so doing, may we find again the Good Shepherd, who first revealed his love in the manger.

(Father Patrick Briscoe, O.P., is a Dominican friar and the editor of Our Sunday Visitor.)

A Star and a Gift: Two remarkable classic movies for the holidays

Reflections on Life
By Melvin Arrington

Each year the Christmas season gets underway with carols and festive songs on the radio, parades, parties, decorations and a host of holiday-themed movies on television. When you think of Christmas movies, certain perennial favorites come to mind, such as A Christmas Carol (1938), It’s a Wonderful Life (1946) and Miracle on 34th Street (1947). And if your taste runs to more modern fare, the viewing possibilities become almost endless.

But if you prefer movies of Hollywood’s Golden Age (1930s – 1950s), as I do, you may want to take a look at a couple of short films from the 1940s that, although seldom shown on TV, deserve some recognition and even a little fanfare. These little-known and unjustly neglected films: The Greatest Gift (1942) and Star in the Night (1945), with running times of 11 minutes and 22 minutes, respectively, are guaranteed to warm your heart and put you in the proper spirit to celebrate the birth of our Savior.

The Greatest Gift, as we learn in the opening frame, is based on a medieval French legend concerning monks who, while snowed in during the winter months, dedicate themselves to fashioning gifts they will offer to the Virgin when springtime arrives. When a half-frozen itinerate juggler, played by Edmund Gwenn (Kris Kringle in Miracle on 34th Street), is found outside the monastery, the abbot, Father Cyprian, has the poor man brought inside and cared for. The juggler, Bartolomé, was hoping to make it to the winter fair in Florence before the snow closed the pass to Italy, but the pass is already closed, so he will have to spend the winter with the monks.

With the coming of spring Bartolomé prepares to go on his way, but he is persuaded to remain for the next day’s festivities in honor of the Blessed Lady. As the monks add the final touches to their gifts, Bartolomé, intending to make an offering of his own, selects his two best juggling clubs, but Father Cyprian, in his wisdom, tells the poor juggler he will not allow him to give away his only means of earning a living, adding that after all, “a grateful heart is the greatest gift of all.”

The next day the monks process into the little chapel chanting and carrying their gifts – fine candles and fancy candlesticks, beautiful altarpieces and illuminated manuscripts – all of which they lay before the statue of the Virgin. Bartolomé offers a gift as well, but you will have to watch the film’s spectacular conclusion to discover what it is.

In Star in the Night (winner of the Academy Award for that year’s Best Short Film) the scene shifts from medieval Europe to Christmas Eve in the southwestern part of the United States in the 1940s. We see three men on horseback loaded with gifts they purchased because they wanted to impress a salesgirl. As they ride along in the dark, wondering what to do with all these store-bought items, they notice a bright star in the distance and ride toward it. The source of the light is a huge star-shaped sign advertising the Star Auto Court (as motels were called at that time) owned by the cynical, Scrooge-like Nick Catapoli and his virtuous wife, Rosa.

Nick, who thinks the worst of people and hates Christmas, refuses hospitality to a passing hitchhiker, a man who only wants to warm himself by the stove and get a cup of coffee. The hitchhiker espouses peace, brotherhood and love, but Nick calls these things “a lot of baloney.” On this night when everyone should be of good cheer, all the guests display just the opposite. They are discontented because they are thinking only of themselves: a woman complains because the people in the cabin next to hers are signing loudly (they are singing Christmas carols); a man is upset because the shirts he sent out to the cleaners were improperly ironed and one is torn; an elderly couple argue with Nick over getting extra blankets for their cabin.

At this point a young couple, José Santos and his wife María, arrive at the auto court. José asks for a cabin because María is not well. But Nick can’t help them because there are no more vacancies. However, Rosa generously offers them the use of a little shed, a barn, where the young couple can rest. Most viewers, long before this scene, will have figured out that Star in the Night is a re-telling of the Christmas story. What ensues after Rosa leads José and María to the barn is not unexpected, but it’s what happens to all the other characters that makes this little gem of a film memorable and well worth watching.

This Christmas season treat yourself to these two short films and you will wonder why they are not regularly shown on TV during the holidays. Each one is available on YouTube. For The Greatest Gift the website is: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n6QmDPF-ln8 and for Star in the Night go to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OXjdBs70syY. Happy viewing and Merry Christmas!

(Melvin Arrington is a Professor Emeritus of Modern Languages for the University of Mississippi and a member of St. John Oxford.)

Pearl harbor anniversary sparks diary review

From the Archives
By Mary Woodward

JACKSON – This week we marked the anniversary of the bombing of Pearl Harbor in 1941. In thinking about all the wars going on in the world today, this anniversary spurred me to check Bishop R.O. Gerow’s diary for what he wrote about the Pearl Harbor attack.

Bishop Gerow’s diary, which is in six volumes and covers 1924–1966, gives us a lot of background to local, state, national and international events as they happened. As we begin this new liturgical year, I thought I would highlight some passages about the Dec. 7 attack, and other mentions of WWII from his diary.

Bishop R.O. Gerow arries in a jeep at the Meridian Air Force Base on Sunday, Feb. 1, 1942 to celebrate Mass. (Photos from archives)

1941: December 7 (Sunday):
“This morning I confirmed a class of fifty-four in the Sacred Heart Church in Greenville, and then after dinner in Greenville I returned to Natchez.
“In the automobile from Greenville to Natchez I was busy with many things, especially preparing some talks that I would have to give in the near future, and I did not turn on the radio. When I returned home, I was astounded to learn of the treacherous attack of the Japanese upon the American forces in Hawaii, at the very time that the Japanese representatives were in Washington discussing with the American authorities a peaceful settlement of their problems in the Pacific.”

December 8 (Monday):
“Today, President Roosevelt addressed Congress, telling them of the attack of the Japanese upon the Hawaiian Islands and our naval and air forces there, and asking them to declare that a state of war exists between the United States and the Japanese Empire. Under the circumstances there was nothing else that the Legislature could do.

“Accordingly, both the Senate and the House unanimously declared a state of war to exist – except for one vote in the House, a woman Representative from Montana, Jeannette Rankin, the same who in 1916 voted against the entrance of the United States into the World War I.

“With this exception of the Representative from Montana, the whole Congress of the United States has been welded into one by the events of Pearl Harbor of yesterday. Even the extreme Isolationists and all those who had differed with the President up to now are one with him in his decision that the declaration of a state of war is our only alternative.”

1943: August 2 (Monday):
“Left Greenwood this morning about 8:30 – had dinner with Father Manon at Oxford – and then after a slight rest proceeded with Father Manor over to Como to visit the camp where there are several thousand Italian prisoners of war.

“A short distance outside the town of Como, the Government has erected a camp with buildings for barracks, mess halls, etc., etc., similar to the buildings in the camp in which the American troops in this country are quartered. The camp at Como, however, is surrounded by a double barbed-wire fence and protected by towers erected at intervals along the enclosure, in which soldiers of the American army manned with proper weapons keep guard day and night lest the prisoners escape.

In Feburary 1942, Bishop Gerow (center) meets with Catholic Military chaplains in Natchez.

“In the Camp the Italian officers are separated entirely from the enlisted men and they are not allowed to mingle. I was allowed into the compound of the enlisted men; I was told, however, that I would not be allowed into the compound in which the officers were quartered. The reason for this I do not know. However, there are four Italian priests, formerly chaplains of the Italian army, who are prisoners in the camp, and these are able to take care of the spiritual needs of both officers and men.

“Father Manon has supplied them with all things necessary for the celebration of the Mass, including vestments, altar stones, candles, etc., and he keeps them supplied with wine and hosts.”

These are three short snippets of Bishop Gerow’s writings about WWII. In the next installment, we will look at some of the priests of our diocese who served in the war, either at home or abroad. And we will explore the POW camp at Como a little more in depth. During his visit mentioned above Bishop Gerow addressed the captives in a chapel they had designed and decorated.

Each year on Dec. 7, Pearl Harbor Survivors, veterans, and visitors from all over the world come together to honor and remember the 2,403 service members and civilians who were killed during the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941. A further 1,178 people were injured in the attack, which permanently sank two U.S. Navy battleships (the USS Arizona and the USS Utah) and destroyed 188 aircraft.

On Aug. 23, 1994, the United States Congress designated Dec. 7 as National Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day. Every year, remembrance events are held at the Pearl Harbor National Memorial, culminating in a commemoration ceremony on Dec. 7. (From the National Pearl harbor Remembrance website: https://www.nps.gov/perl/learn/historyculture/national-pearl-harbor-remembrance-day.htm)
Let us pray for peace!

(Mary Woodward is Chancellor and Archivist for the Diocese of Jackson.)