LIGHT ONE CANDLE
By Father Ed Dougherty, M.M

October 28 marks the Feast of Saints Simon and Jude, Apostles. Tradition holds they were martyred together in the first century while preaching the Gospel in Persia and that their remains were later moved to St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome, where a single tomb commemorates them to this day.

St. Bridget of Sweden and St. Bernard of Clairvaux both had visions where God identified St. Jude as the Patron St. of the Impossible, and for centuries, pilgrims to his grave have reported powerful intercessions. Today, Catholics throughout the world invoke the intercession of St. Jude in the most desperate circumstances, and the Prayer to St. Jude is credited with bringing much relief in times of trial.

As for St. Simon, history tells us little about him other than the story of his mission of evangelization with St. Jude that led to martyrdom for them both. But he is named as one of the twelve Apostles in all three Synoptic Gospels and in the Book of Acts.

St. Simon is referred to as “Simon called Zelotes” in the Synoptic Gospels to distinguish him from Simon Peter, which led to his being called “Simon the Zealot” as it is believed he was a former member of the Zealots, a revolutionary political party of the time. However, these fragments of information bring into focus the life of a man who underwent a profound conversion. The Zealots were committed to overthrowing the Roman occupation through violent revolution. So, if Simon was a member of the Zealots, then following Christ would have affected within him a radical change of heart.

The very fact of being one of the twelve, and then later an evangelist, traveling from town to town and through the nations of the region speaks to this conversion. And his path in many ways represents the universal Christian conversion to turn from worldly power to the power found only in the love of Christ.
As for the life of St. Jude, we hear only a bit more about him in the New Testament than we hear about St. Simon. He was the disciple who asked Christ at the Last Supper, “Lord, how is it that You will manifest Yourself to us, and not to the world?”

Christ’s answer to this question was, “If a man loves Me, he will keep My word, and My Father will love him, and We will come to him and make our home with him.”

It’s an interesting exchange considering St. Jude’s role as patron of the impossible because our prayers for help must contain the same kind of faith Christ speaks of here. We must have faith even when we don’t see Him, and even when the things we ask for aren’t answered in exactly the way we expect.

St. Jude also wrote an epistle, which is the second to last book of the New Testament, where he encourages the faithful to persevere through trying circumstances. This is yet another interesting consideration in light of Jude’s role as intercessor for the impossible because sometimes the first help God gives us is strength to persevere through that which seems impossible to face. So, we might see in these two key parts of the bible why St. Jude is such a powerful intercessor, and also why it is so fitting that he is paired with St. Simon for a single feast day, because they both point us towards renunciation as the ultimate way to follow Christ.

(For a free copy of The Christophers’ Lift Up Your Hearts, e-mail: mail@christophers.org)

FAITH IN EDUCATION
By Karla Luke

On Sept. 3, the Diocese gathered for the annual day of worship and professional development hosted by the Office of Catholic Education. This much-anticipated event brought together over 400 faculty, staff and administrators from across the diocese to celebrate Catholic education and renew their mission in

nurturing faith and academic success among students. Held on the Tuesday after Labor Day, the day began with a Mass celebrated by Bishop Joseph Kopacz in the Fine Arts Building at St. Joseph School in Madison, coinciding with the Memorial of St. Gregory the Great – one of the patron saints of educators.

Dr. Timothy Hogan, a licensed clinical psychologist, speaker and author, was the keynote speaker for the day. Known for his expertise in the impact of technology and culture on spirituality, Dr. Hogan delivered a powerful and engaging presentation based on the diocesan theme of “Faith, Hope and Love.” His talk, “Faith, Hope and Love: Proven, Practical Ways to Cultivate Love,” inspired educators to deepen their own spiritual lives while guiding students to do the same. Drawing from his latest book, The Gift of Cultural Hurricanes: Tools to Rebuild Authentic Spirituality, Dr. Hogan shared insights on how educators can positively influence the faith of their students through their own authentic example.

Dr. Hogan emphasized the importance of strong attachment and connection between teachers, caregivers, and students, highlighting the role of educators in modeling faith and empathy. He discussed the challenges faced by young people today, particularly the pervasive impact of technology on their ability to process emotions and develop spiritually. Referencing data from 2013, when average smartphone usage was 18 minutes per day, compared to today’s staggering 6.5–8.5 hours per day, Dr. Hogan made clear the need for educators to be present, empathetic, and engaged in helping students navigate these challenges.

His message also spoke to the well-being of educators, encouraging them to slow down and be present in the moment, quoting St. Teresa of Avila: “Whoever possesses the present moment possesses God.” Dr. Hogan offered practical advice for fostering mindfulness in the classroom, such as beginning with a check-in to help students connect with their feelings and modeling emotional awareness in an age-appropriate manner. He urged educators to maintain a positive mindset, treat themselves with grace, and find solace in prayerful, rhythmic breathing.

After a shared meal, attendees broke into groups based on their roles in their schools to discuss how they could implement these ideas in their work. The day concluded with group sharing, where educators reflected on the insights gained and ways to support each other.

Feedback from participants was overwhelmingly positive. Many appreciated Dr. Hogan’s engaging style and the practical tools he offered for the classroom and beyond. Comments included: “My favorite thing about today was the speaker. He was amazing. He really engaged everyone in his presentation,” and “Not only telling us the issues we are seeing but helping us find ways to do something about it!” Educators also valued the opportunity to collaborate with their counterparts from other schools across the diocese.

The Office of Catholic Education extends its gratitude to Dr. Dena Kinsey and the staff of St. Joseph School for hosting, and to the Chancery staff for their ongoing support. A special appreciation goes to Rachel Patterson and Virginia Hollingsworth, for their dedication in organizing the event.

Finally, we honor all our teachers who, day in and day out, dedicate themselves to ensuring that our children are not only prepared for academic success but also develop a deep and lasting relationship with Christ. Their commitment to our mission is extraordinary, and they are truly our heroes.

(Karla Luke is the executive director of Catholic Schools for the Diocese of Jackson)

IN EXILE
By Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI
Several years ago, at a time when the national news was much fixated on a high-profile case of sexual harassment, I asked three women colleagues: “what constitutes sexual harassment? What’s the line here that may not be crossed? What’s innocent behavior and what’s harassment?” They answered to this effect. It’s not so much a question of a clear line, a certain remark or behavior that goes too far. Rather, we know what is innocent and what is not. We can read the energy beneath the behavior. We know when it’s harassment and when it’s not.

I have no doubt that in most instances this is true. All of us have very perceptive inner radar screens. We naturally feel and read the energy in a room – tension, ease, jealousy, affirmation, innocence, aggression. You see this already in very young children, even babies, who can sense ease or tension in a room.

It is interesting that the great Carmelite mystic John of the Cross, draws on this notion when he writes on discernment in spiritual direction. How, he asks, do you discern if a person is in a genuine dark night of the soul (a healthy thing) or whether he is sad and down because of an emotional depression or because of bad moral behavior? John elaborates a number of criteria for discerning this, but ultimately they all come down to reading the energy that the person is radiating. Are they bringing oxygen into the room or are they sucking the oxygen out of the room? Are they depressing you as you listen to them? If yes, then their issue is not spiritual nor healthy. People who are in an authentic dark night of the soul, irrespective of their personal interior struggle, bring positive energy into a room and leave you inspired rather than depressed.

My purpose in sharing is not for us to become more critical and start judging others by trying to consciously read the energy they are radiating. (We are already unconsciously doing that.) What I want to highlight rather, as a challenge, is for each of us to more consciously examine ourselves vis-à-vis what energy we are bringing into a room and leaving behind.

Each of us needs to courageously ask: what energy do I bring into a room? What energy do I bring to the family table? To a community gathering? To those with whom I discuss politics and religion? To my colleagues and fellow workers? To the social circles within which I move? And more deeply, as a parent or as an elder, what energy am I habitually bringing to my children and to the young? As someone teaching or doing ministry, what energy am I radiating as I try to lead others?

That’s a critical question. What energy am I habitually bringing into a room and leaving behind? Frustration? Anger? Chaos? Jealousy? Paranoia? Bitterness? Depression? Instability? Or am I bringing and leaving behind some stability, some sanity, some joy of heart, some energy that blesses rather than curses others? Ultimately, what am I leaving behind?

When Jesus is giving his farewell speech in John’s Gospel, he tells us that it is better for us that he is going away because otherwise we will not be able to receive his spirit; and that his spirit, his final gift to us, is the gift of peace. Two things should be noted here: first, that the disciples couldn’t fully receive what Jesus was giving them until he had gone away; and second, that ultimately his real gift to them, his real legacy, was the peace he left behind with them.

What may seem strange at first glance is that his followers could only fully inhale his energy after he had gone away and left them his spirit. That is also true for each of us. It is only after we leave a room that the energy we left behind is most clear. Thus, it is after we die that the energy we have left behind will constitute our real legacy. If we live in anger and bitterness, in jealousy and unwillingness to affirm others, and if our lives sow chaos and instability, that will be what we ultimately leave behind and will always be part of our legacy. Conversely, if we are trustworthy and live unselfishly, morally, at peace with others, bringing sanity and affirmation into a room, then, like Jesus, we will leave behind a gift of peace. That will be our legacy, the oxygen we leave on the planet after we are gone.

And this is not a question of who can best light up a room with humor and banter, good as these can be. It is rather a question of who has enough personal integrity so as to bring trust and stability into a room?
Given all this, it’s good to ask oneself: when I enter a room am I bringing some oxygen into that room or am I sucking some oxygen out of that room?

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

FROM THE HERMITAGE
By sister alies therese

Take a peek at Psalm 77 where the psalmist spends the first half lamenting his (and the community’s) miserable situation (1-10). A translation I like in The Message (Peterson, 2003) says, “I found myself in trouble and went looking for my Lord; my life was an open wound that wouldn’t heal … Will the Lord walk off and leave us for good? Will he never smile again…? ‘Just my luck,’ I said, ‘The High God goes out of business just the moment I need Him.’” What could bring something good out of this? “You can never learn that Christ is all you need until Christ is all you have,” Corrie ten Boom reminds us.

Later the psalmist brings another point of view … something beautiful happens beginning at 11 to the end, when he changes his focus, ceases the lamentation and focus on himself, and turns to God. In Exodus language, he prays, “Once again I’ll go over what God has done, I’ll ponder all the things You’ve accomplished and give a long, loving look at Your acts … You pulled your people out of the worst kind of trouble…” I think this is something about salvation … and the saving job is God’s. That’s right where God wants you.

How does that salvation look? What is one practical aspect? Well, Pope Francis on Holy Thursday in 2014 said, “Am I really willing to serve and help others? This sign is a caress of Jesus.” This psalmist and his community in turning to God not only to themselves, discovered what Paul was trying to get over to the Ephesians. While pondering the darkness and the sinfulness of humanity, Paul also wants them to learn that God has us right where we belong … because that is where He wants to ‘shower us with grace and kindness’ and to teach us that this saving business is His gift. The fact that it is God’s gift is traced back to the covenants of the past and the promises to Israel … God created ‘a new kind of human being, a fresh start for everybody.’ And that’s how we are to act toward one another. We are to be that caress of Jesus in the lives of friends and foes.

Catherine of Siena adds, “To the servant of God every place is the right place, and every time is the right time.” Every opportunity that comes our way ‘works out’ this salvation we’ve been given. Our learning to share allows us challenges and opportunities to gift others with those precious gifts of God. They often look like fruits of the spirit … patience, kindness, joy, gentleness, etc.

My experience of these fruits is usually where I am the weakest, or when we are most challenged, where we fear. In the April 4, 2014, Collect, we hear: “O God, who has prepared fitting helps for us in our weakness, grant we pray that we may receive their healing effects with joy and reflect them in a holy way of life.” This holy way of life is mirrored in the blessed life of Jesus, where we use the gift of salvation He has given, for others. Psalm 77 also reminds us, “O God, your way is holy, no god is great like God.”

God has us right where He wants us and comments further in Ephesians: “You are no longer wandering exiles … the kingdom of faith is your home country. You’re no longer strangers or outsiders. You belong here.” (Peterson, 2003) “For it is the will of our courteous Lord that we should be as much at home with Jesus as heart may think or soul desire. Julian of Norwich writes in Revelations. Our salvation, our saving, is about the grace that changes us into what God has in mind. We say to become the best version of ourselves … well, yes but what we want is to be the version God has in mind right where we are! Look at some of our October saints … Therese, Francis and Teresa.

“Christ wills that where He is we should be also, not only for eternity but already in time, which is eternity begun and still in progress,” so says Elizabeth of the Trinity. There is only one place to be … right where we belong in God. This means we belong in love and are motivated from that core to act as such.

Pope St. John Paul II clarifies, “Love is the constructive force for humanity’s every positive road … the future does not gather hope from violence, hatred or selfishness.” Our world and our country are full of the latter and it is our job to change things right where we are.
Blessings.

(Sister alies therese is a canonically vowed hermit with days formed around prayer and writing.)

CALLED TO HOLINESS
By Jaymie Stuart Wolfe

“Choose your battles” is generally good advice. It’s wise to acknowledge that not every fight can be won; that we may not have the resources to sustain a war on many fronts; that victory sometimes costs us more than we can afford. But if you’re born (or baptized) on the battlefield, things become more complicated. It’s hard to resist the urge to take up the cross and march like a crusader into every engagement, especially when we see the destruction around us, know the stakes are high and suspect we are outnumbered.

The practice of offering an abbreviated form of Pope Leo XIII’s prayer to St. Michael at the end of every Mass is, once again, widespread. And that’s a good thing, because if living our Catholic faith in today’s world could be summarized in a single word, “embattled” would be a strong contender.

And yet, God does not call any of us to go looking for a fight. That’s because we’re not often equipped to win a contest against an enemy that prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour, (see 1 Pt 5:8). Perhaps more importantly, we also tend to forget that the battle God calls every one of us to engage in is a spiritual one, fought on the open fields of our hearts.

That is why the Catechism of the Catholic Church includes an entire section devoted to what it calls “The Battle of Prayer.” As the Catechism explains, “Prayer is both a gift of grace and a determined response on our part. It always presupposes effort. The great figures of prayer…all teach us this: prayer is a battle. …The “spiritual battle” of the Christian’s new life is inseparable from the battle of prayer” (CCC 2725).

After we’ve abandoned mortal sin, after we’ve decided to follow Jesus wholeheartedly, prayer is most often where we falter. Prayer is the most sustained battle of the Christian life. It is where our faith is both fed and tested. It is how our quest for salvation plays out. In prayer, we open our hearts to God. Through prayer, God opens his heart to us.

If we want to follow Christ, we must pray. And that is never easy. What is easy is the discouragement we face when we try and fail. Despite our best intentions, the daily Rosary or Mass easily become more like every other day. We skip time with God when we are pressed for time. And that makes us vulnerable to one of the enemy’s most effective traps: self-sufficiency.

Approaching life and all its challenges alone and on our own power separates us from the grace of perseverance and sets us up for failure. We know that we cannot live the life of Christ apart from Christ. And yet, that is precisely what many of us attempt to do.

But it’s also easy for us to get distracted; to allow the values of our world to get a foothold in our hearts. When that happens, prayer can seem like a waste of time, an empty exercise in futility, a font of false hope, or an escape from reality. In the cloud of the disappointment that descends when God does not give us everything we want, we struggle to carry on. We ask ourselves whether prayer makes any difference. And when we aren’t convinced that it does, we either give up or seek our fortunes in battles we were never called to fight.

But to be victorious in the battle of prayer, we must acquire and cultivate the virtues that, ironically, arise from prayer: humility, trust and perseverance. Humility teaches us not to be surprised by our own weaknesses. It considers how the distractions we face in prayer reveal our attachments to things other than God. Trust teaches us to rely completely on the Holy Spirit, the divine presence and power given to us in God’s time and in his way. Perseverance overcomes our laziness, but it also purifies our motivations and draws us into the love that makes all things possible.

In the great scheme of things, all the other battles we choose to fight serve only to distract us from the main event. Because prayer is what transforms and guides us, it is the only battle worth fighting, and the only one we must – by God’s grace and our effort – win.

(Jaymie Stuart Wolfe is a sinner, Catholic convert, freelance writer and editor, musician, speaker, pet-aholic, wife and mom of eight grown children, loving life in New Orleans.)

IN EXILE
By Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI
Several years ago, I went with another priest to visit a mutual friend. Our friend, a successful businessman, was living on the top floor of a very expensive apartment overlooking the river valley in the city of Edmonton. At one point during our visit, he took us out on his balcony to show us the view. It was spectacular. You could see for miles, the entire river valley and much of the city.

We were in awe and told him so. Thanking us for the compliments, he shared that, sadly, he seldom came out on the balcony to drink in the view. Here are some of his words: “You know, I should give this place to some poor family who could enjoy it. I could live in a basement apartment since I never have time to enjoy this. I can’t remember when I last came out here to watch a sunset or a sunrise. I’m always too busy, too pressured, too preoccupied. This place is wasted on me. About the only time I come out here is when I have visitors and want to show them the view.”

Jesus once said something that might be paraphrased this way: What does it profit you if you gain the whole world and are forever too much in a hurry and too pressured to enjoy it.

When Jesus talks about gaining the whole world and suffering the loss of your own soul, he isn’t first of all referring to having a bad moral life, dying in sin and going to hell. That’s the more radical warning in his message. We can lose our soul in other ways, even while we are good, dedicated, moral people. The man whose story I just shared is indeed a very good, dedicated, moral and kind man. But he is, by his own humble admission, struggling to be a soulful person, to be more inside the richness of his own life because when you live under constant pressure and are perennially forced to hurry, it isn’t easy to get up in the morning and say: “This is the day that the Lord has made, let us be glad and rejoice in it.” We are more likely to say: “Lord, just get me through this day!”

As well, when Jesus tells us that it’s difficult for a rich person to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, he isn’t just referring to material riches, money and affluence, though these are contained in the warning. The problem can also be a rich agenda, a job or a passion that so consumes us that we rarely take the time (or even think of taking the time) to enjoy the beauty of a sunset or the fact that we are healthy and have the privilege of having a rich agenda.

Full disclosure, this is one of my struggles. During all my years in ministry, I have always been blessed with a rich agenda, important work, work that I love. But, when I’m honest, I need to admit that during these years I have been too hurried and over pressured to watch many sunsets (unless, like my friend, I was pointing out their beauty to a visitor).

I have tried to break out of this by conscripting myself to regular times of quiet prayer, regular walks, retreats, and several weeks of vacation each year. That has helped, no doubt, but I’m still too much of an addict, pressured and hurried almost all the time, longing for space for quiet, for prayer, for sunsets, for a hike in a park, for a glass of wine or scotch, for a contemplative cigar. And I recognize an irony here: I’m hurrying and tiring myself out in order to carve out some time to relax!

I’m no Thomas Merton, but I take consolation in the fact that he, a monk in a monastery, was often too busy and pressured to find solitude. In search of that, he spent the last few years of his life in hermitage, away from the main monastery except for Eucharist and the office of the church each day. Then, when he found solitude, he was surprised at how different it was from the way he had imagined it. Here’s how he describes it in his diary:

Today I am in solitude because at this moment “it is enough to be, in an ordinary human mode, with one’s hunger and sleep, one’s cold and warmth, rising and going to bed. Putting on blankets and taking them off, making coffee and then drinking it. Defrosting the refrigerator, reading, meditating, working, praying. I live as my ancestors lived on this earth, until eventually I die. Amen. There is no need to make an assertion about my life, especially so about it as mine … I must learn to live so as to forget program and artifice.”

And to check out the sunset from my balcony!

When we are rich, busy, pressured and preoccupied, it’s hard to taste one’s own coffee.

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