IN EXILE
By Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI
Inside each of us, beyond what we can picture clearly, express in words, or even feel distinctly, we have a dark memory of having once been touched and caressed by hands far gentler than our own. That caress has left a permanent mark, an imprint of a love so tender and deep that its memory becomes a prism through which we see everything else. This imprint lies beyond conscious memory but forms the center of our soul.

This is not an easy concept to explain. Bernard Lonergan, one of the great intellectuals of the past century, tried to explain it philosophically by saying we bear inside us “the brand of the first principles,” namely, the oneness, truth, goodness and beauty which are the attributes of God. That’s accurate, but abstract. Maybe the old myths and legends capture it better when they say that, before birth, each soul is kissed by God, and it then goes through life always in some dark way remembering that kiss and measuring everything it experiences in relation to that original sweetness. To be in touch with your heart is to be in touch with this primordial kiss, with both its preciousness and its meaning.

What exactly is being said here?

Within each of us, at that place where all that is most precious within us lives, there is an inchoate sense of having once been touched, caressed, loved, and valued in a way that is beyond anything we have ever consciously experienced. In fact, all the goodness, love, value, and tenderness we experience in life fall short precisely because we are already in touch with something deeper. When we feel frustrated, angry, betrayed, violated or enraged, it is because our outside experience is antithetical to what we already hold dear inside.

We all have this place, a place in the heart, where we hold all that is most precious and sacred to us. From that place our own kisses issue forth, as do our tears. It is the place that we most guard from others, but the place where we would most want others to come into; the place where we are the most deeply alone and the place of intimacy; the place of innocence and the place where we are violated; the place of our compassion and the place of our rage. In that place we are holy. There we are temples of God, sacred churches of truth and love. There we bear God’s image.

But this needs understanding: the image of God inside of us is not a beautiful icon stamped inside of our soul. No. The image and likeness of God inside us is energy, fire and memory; especially the memory of a touch so tender and loving that its goodness and truth become the prism through which we ultimately see everything. Thus, we recognize goodness and truth outside of us precisely because they resonate with something that is already inside us. Things touch our hearts when they touch us here. Isn’t it because we have already been deeply touched and caressed that we passionately seek a soulmate, that we seek someone to join us in this intimate place?

And, consciously and unconsciously, we measure everything in life by how it touches this place: why do certain experiences touch us so deeply? Why do our hearts burn within us in the presence of any truth, love, goodness or tenderness that is genuine and deep? Is not all deep knowledge simply a waking up to something we already know? Is not all love simply a question of being respected for something we already are? Are not the touch and tenderness that bring ecstasy nothing other than the stirring of deep memory? Are not the ideals that inspire hope only the reminder of words somebody has already spoken to us? Does not our desire for innocence (and innocent means “not wounded”) mirror some primal unwounded place deep within us? And when we feel violated, is it not because someone has irreverently entered the sacred inside us?

When we are in touch with this memory and respect its sensitivities, we are in touch with our souls. At those times, faith, hope and love will spring up in us, joy and tears will both flow through us freely, and we will be deeply affected by the innocence and beauty of children, as pain and gratitude alternately bring us to our knees.

That is what it means to be recollected, centered. To be truly ourselves is to remember, to touch and to feel the memory of God’s original touch in us. That memory fires our energy and provides us with a prism through which to see and understand.

Sadly, today, too often a wounded, calloused, cynical, over sophisticated and overly adult world invite us to forget God’s kiss in the soul, to view this as childish. But, unless we lie to ourselves and harden ourselves against our own ourselves (the most dangerous of all activities), we will always remember, dimly, darkly, unrelentingly, the caress of God.

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

KNEADING FAITH
By Fran Lavelle
Pope Francis has declared 2025 to be a Jubilee Year of Hope. In his February 2022 letter announcing the Jubilee 2025, he stated: “We must fan the flame of hope that has been given us and help everyone to gain new strength and certainty by looking to the future with an open spirit, a trusting heart and far-sighted vision. The forthcoming Jubilee can contribute greatly to restoring a climate of hope and trust as a prelude to the renewal and rebirth that we so urgently desire…”

One can clearly see the need for greater hope in the world, but it also can feel like an overwhelming ask. It is easy to lose hope in our current political climate. It is easy to lose hope in the midst of the divisions within the church. It is easy to lose hope when we see the result of despair in the news every day. To call for hope can seem quite Pollyanna-ish. We clutch pearls, shrug shoulders, and sigh emphatically as if it’s too late to restore hope in anything. But Pope Francis is not operating out of naiveté. Rather he is responding to what he knows to be true, right, and just. “For I know well the plans I have in mind for you – oracle of the Lord – plans for your welfare and not for woe, so as to give you a future of hope.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

In reflecting on his vision of hope, I have found myself asking how we as the people of God in the Diocese of Jackson reflect hope. I was quickly and swiftly reminded of the Synod on Synodality process in 2021 and the pastoral reimagining process that began in 2023. Both processes put our resolve to the test. They both offered the people of God to reflect on what type of church we want to be. For me, I have been reminded time and again that the institution and the church are not one in the same. The institution is the governing structure. And as with all governing bodies can make mistakes. The church, however, is the Body of Christ. It is all of us. It is, for me, easy to put my faith in us. All of us. Institutions and bureaucracies can fail and disappoint us, but the Body of Christ is compelled by its very nature to work toward a fulfillment of the Gospel. This, friends, gives me great hope.

So, we turn to the implementation phase of the pastoral reimagining process. As it is with any process, one of the biggest concerns at the onset of pastoral reimagining was a fear that the end product would end up filling space on a bookshelf. From the early stages of development we knew this had to be an organic process.

The formal process was completed at Pentecost 2024 with the publication of a pastoral letter from Bishop Kopacz. The letter summarizes the reimagining process and encourages all parishes to begin implementation of what they developed and have refined through the overall pastoral reimagining process.

For that vision to flourish the diocese recognizes the need to:

• Oversee the pastoral planning aspects of pastoral reimagining.
• Provide resources to assist parish leaders in creating and implementing pastoral plans in their family of parishes.
• Serve deanery and parish leaders directly through liaisons and other services.

Further, we recognize that the success of implementation will come down to having someone dedicated to helping parishes succeed at the local level. To that end, I have accepted the responsibility for the implementation phase of pastoral reimagining beginning this month. I will be responsible for the various aspects assisting in developing and implementing pastoral plans at the parish, mission, deanery and diocesan level.

I am ready to get to work assisting our parish leaders bring their pastoral plans to fruition. The church, the Body of Christ, needs us to fulfill the vision of the Gospel. It will not happen overnight, but it can be achieved. Our hope anchored in the Gospel will continue to fuel the reimagining process. It clearly is not over. We have just begun. Let us be inspired by part of Pope Francis’ prayer for the Jubilee of Hope, “… May your grace transform us into tireless cultivators of the seeds of the Gospel. May those seeds transform from within both humanity and the whole cosmos in the sure expectation of a new heaven and a new earth, when, with the powers of Evil vanquished, your glory will shine eternally …”

(Fran Lavelle is the Director of Faith Formation for the Diocese of Jackson.)

CALLED TO HOLINESS
By Jaymie Stuart Wolfe

Whether our hopes for this summer have been fulfilled or not, the season is waning. Most kids have returned to school, and the full force of the fall calendar is poised to kick in. All we can do now is hope that whatever rest and recreation we managed to get will be enough to draw on in the months ahead, enough to motivate us, enough to see us to the winter and through it.

Sometimes, though, one summer can change everything that follows it. That’s what happened to one young French girl in 1424. Sometime during that summer six centuries ago, Joan of Arc heard “voices” for the very first time. The exact date was never recorded. But what happened to Joan set her on a path that would change her life and the history of her country. This is how she described it at her infamous trial, on Feb. 22, 1431: “In my thirteenth year, I had a voice from God to help and guide me. The first time I heard this voice, I was very much afraid. The voice came around noon, in the summer, in my father’s garden. … It seemed to me a worthy voice, and I believe it was sent from God.”

I’ve been thinking a lot about Joan of Arc lately, and not just because I’ve spent close to a year writing two books about her. It’s that Joan has so much to teach us about prayer. And in this papally designated year of prayer, I’m hard-pressed to find a better example. Joan of Arc’s life shows us what it looks like when a Christian missionary disciple makes prayer a first response rather than a last resort.

Joan listened to her heavenly voices – those of St. Catherine of Alexandria and St. Margaret of Antioch – for five years before beginning her mission. Over those first five years, Joan learned how to discern the voices that came to her and how to listen. But even more importantly, she learned that the voices she was hearing – and the God who sent them – could be trusted.

To Joan, however, prayer wasn’t just a tool of initial formation; it was an ongoing source of direction and guidance, the wellspring of her purpose and mission. When she left home at the age of 17, Joan was illiterate and untrained – unqualified to command the king’s army and lead men into battle. But she knew better than to trust in her own abilities. Instead, Joan placed all her confidence in God and continually sought his counsel in prayer. And she never stopped listening, not even when she was captured and tried by a panel of corrupt ecclesial judges. Joan prevailed. After her death, France defeated the English. She was vindicated, her greatest enemy posthumously excommunicated. And now she is counted among the most popular saints of all time.

Joan of Arc’s historic mission was inspired and fueled entirely by prayer. Apparently, however, ours are not. In a recent blog post, founder of Catholic Missionary Disciples Marcel LeJeune spoke openly about the role of prayer among today’s Catholic leaders. Prayer, he says, often “takes a back seat to strategy, discussion, plans, etc.” Unlike the first Christians, LeJeune observes, “we may not be facing any extreme kinds of persecution, but we are facing other issues. Our response has been training, classes, best practices, etc. But what about prayer? Why is it done so little? Why have we not prioritized it?” Why indeed!

Six-hundred years is a long time. But if we quiet ourselves down long enough to listen, we can still hear the voices that startled Joan of Arc echo in our own lives and faith communities. Contrary to popular belief, the King of the Universe is not silent. God does not shut up. His call and his invitation are issued in every age. And he is speaking to us. What has changed is our willingness to hear him out.

Our missions and apostolates suffer because we too often pray in a perfunctory way. We do not achieve the victories we long for because we do not take prayer seriously enough to seek God first, to discern and listen to his voice, and then do only what he commands. St. Joan of Arc, pray for us.

(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

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Most of us are familiar with these words from Robert Frost which have been used countless times in graduation and commencement addresses and other inspirational talks as a challenge to not just follow the crowd, but rather to risk carrying yourself and your solitude at a higher level. Well, Jesus offers us that same invitation daily as we stand looking at two very different roads.

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus summarizes many of his key teachings. However, they are easy to misunderstand and rationalize. Mostly though we don’t pick up on what lies front and center in those teachings, that is, how our virtue must go deeper than that of the Scribes and the Pharisees. What’s at issue here?

Most of the Scribes and Pharisees were good, sincere, committed, religious people with a high virtue. They kept the Commandments and were women and men who practiced a strict justice. They were fair to everyone and indeed were extra gracious and generous to strangers. So, what’s lacking in this? Well, good as this is, it doesn’t go far enough. Why not?

Because you can be a person of moral integrity, fully just and generous, and still be hateful, vengeful and violent because these can still be done in justice. In strict justice you may hate someone who hates you, you may exact revenge when you are wronged, and you may practice capital punishment. An eye for an eye!

But, in doing that you are still doing what comes naturally. It is natural to love those who love you, just as it is natural to hate those who hate you. Real virtue asks more than this. Jesus invites us to something higher. He invites us to love those who hate us, to bless those who curse us, to never seek revenge, and to forgive those who kill us – even mass murderers.

Admittedly, that isn’t an easy road to take. Almost every natural instinct inside us resists this. What’s our spontaneous reaction when we are wronged? We feel vengeful. What’s our natural reaction when we hear that the gunman at a mass killing was killed? We feel relieved. What’s our natural reaction when an unrepentant murderer is executed? We feel happy he died; and we cannot help ourselves in that reaction. There’s the sense that justice has been served. Something has been righted in the universe. Our moral indignation has been assuaged. There’s closure.

Or is there? Not really. What we feel rather is emotional release, catharsis; but there’s a huge difference between catharsis and real closure. While the emotional release may even be healthy psychologically, we are invited (by Jesus and by all that’s highest inside us) to something else, to a road beyond feeling emotional release, namely, the less travelled road towards wide compassion, understanding and forgiveness.
In assessing this, it can be helpful to look at how Pope John Paul II addressed the question of capital punishment. He was the first pope in the Church’s two-thousand-year history to speak out against capital punishment. Interestingly, he didn’t say it was wrong. Indeed, in strict justice it may be done. What he said was simply that we shouldn’t do it because Jesus invites us to something else, namely, to forgive murderers.

Easier said than done! When I hear of a mass shooting, my thoughts and feelings don’t naturally turn toward understanding and empathy for the shooter. I don’t agonize about how he must have suffered to bring himself to do something like this. I don’t naturally feel sympathy for those who because of fragile or broken mental health might do something like that. Rather my emotions naturally put me on the road more traveled, telling me that this is a terrible human being who deserves to die! Empathy and forgiveness aren’t the first things that find me in these situations. Hateful and vengeful feelings do.
However, that is the road of our emotions, the road more taken. Understandable. Who wants to feel sympathy for a killer, an abuser, a bully?

But that’s only our emotions venting. Something else inside us is forever calling us to what’s higher, namely, to the empathy and understanding to which Jesus invites us in the Sermon on the Mount. Love those who hate you. Bless those who curse you. Forgive those who murder you.

Moreover, such virtue is not something we ever achieve once and for all. No. Faith works this way: some days we walk on water and some days we sink like a stone.

So, like Robert Frost, on any given day I find myself standing where two roads diverge. One, the road more traveled, invites me to walk the road of hate, vengeance, and feeling I am a victim; the other, the road less taken, invites me to walk the road of wider compassion, empathy and forgiveness.

Which one do I take? Sometimes one, sometimes the other; though always I know the one to which Jesus is inviting me.

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

Reflections on Life
By Melvin Arrington

Why does no one want to talk about sin these days? Why do people refuse to admit to wrongdoing anymore. The prevailing philosophy seems to be one of “I’m okay; you’re okay.” However, Scripture teaches that “if we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” (I John 1:8) We are all guilty as charged, every single one of us: “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23)

No matter how we classify it, sin involves disobedience; it is a transgression of God’s law. Some infractions are minor (venial); others sever our relationship with God and put our souls at risk (mortal). For the sin to be considered mortal it has to meet all of the following criteria: 1) it must involve grave matter, for example, when a person breaks one of the Ten Commandments or fails to perform works of charity as specified in the 25th chapter of Matthew; 2) the person must have full knowledge and awareness of the seriousness of the matter; 3) he must give full consent to what he is about to do; that is, his will must be unimpaired. At the risk of oversimplification, we might say that the mortal category applies when it deals with doing something that’s really bad, and the person realizes how serious it is, and he goes ahead and does it anyway. Not all our faults involve actions we take. They can include our thoughts and words as well. And when we recite the Confiteor, we acknowledge that we are responsible not only for the things we have done but also for what we have failed to do.

During the early Christian centuries, several attempts were made to catalog what became known as the seven deadly sins, also called the seven capital or cardinal sins. Evagrius Ponticus, a monk who lived in the fourth century, put together the first list, including in his compilation what he called eight evil thoughts that lead us into temptation. Others who followed in Evagrius’ footsteps produced registers alternating between seven and eight sins. At the end of the sixth century Pope Gregory I (Gregory the Great) composed a list of seven items that closely resemble the modern-day canon of deadly vices: anger, envy, lust, pride, gluttony, sloth and greed. Although the names used for denoting each of these may have varied across the ages, the transgressions themselves have remained the same. As Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen has remarked, there are no new sins; there are only new sinners.

Why do we sin in the first place? It’s because we’re all searching for happiness. But many are searching in all the wrong places. Instead of discovering the joy and contentment that come from having a deeply committed personal relationship with Jesus Christ, they grasp at the things the world has to offer – wealth, power, pleasure, fame, etc. These usually result in only short-term gratification and long-term unhappiness.

Every sin is an excess or a defect of something that is good. Not surprisingly, much of our modern secular culture is characterized by excess, self-absorption and perversion of the good. It tells us that the classic vices are not bad at all. In fact, they can be very good. What’s wrong, they say, with trying to get even with your enemy? Why feel guilty about accumulating as much wealth as possible without concern for the needs of the poor? What harm is there in having an occasional affair as long as no one gets hurt? What’s wrong is that in each case the ego is out of control. When the predominant attitude is one of “it’s all about me,” concepts such as forgiveness, generosity and sacrificial love get shoved out of the way.

So, how do we protect ourselves from enticements that may lead us astray? For a start, we can pray for an extra measure of grace to fight off temptation and make a conscious effort to avoid the near occasions of sin, that is, the things and places that can lead us away from God and His church. In addition, we should pray to St. Michael: “St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil.” And then we should follow up our prayers by putting them into action, for example, involving ourselves in a variety of charitable activities.

Bishop Robert Barron recommends practicing what he calls the seven lively virtues in order to cancel out the deadly vices. In other words, we should counterbalance anger with forgiveness, correct envy with admiration, exchange lust for chastity, rectify pride with humility, renounce gluttony in favor of temperance, counter sloth with zeal, and replace greed with generosity. Performing these virtues will loosen the bonds of sin and allow us to once again experience the love of God flowing through us.
Imagine an oblong box with anger, envy and lust aligned along one side, pride positioned at the head, and gluttony, sloth and greed stationed along the other side. The box represents a coffin; inside lies the soul. These deadly vices are, in the words of Archbishop Sheen, the “seven pallbearers of the soul.” They lead us down, down into darkness, down into the depths of sadness and despair, down, down to the death of the soul!

Our contemporary culture tries to pound into us the notion that the virtues are old-fashioned and out of step. But we know better. We know that by praying and doing good works we can, through the grace of God, cancel out those vices that pose the greatest threat to our spiritual wellbeing. If we follow the virtues, they will become for us stepping stones leading upward – up to peace and contentment, up to the attainment of our heart’s innermost desire, up to everlasting joy, up, up to God!

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

FAITH IN EDUCATION
By Karla Luke
As summer vacations come to an end, we joyfully welcome our students, families and staff back to school for another year of learning, growth and community. We are excited and eager to begin a new school year full of great possibilities and the promise of fresh starts.

This year, our school community will be guided by the timeless and profound theme of “Faith, Hope and Love.” Rooted in 1 Corinthians 13:13, these three virtues are not just ideals but the very foundation upon which we build our lives as followers of Christ and most important Catholic educators. As we begin this academic journey together, we invite every member of our school family to embrace these virtues in all that we learn and do.

Faith is the foundation of our Catholic education. It is the lens through which we view our world, and it is the source of strength that sustains us through challenges. It is the trust we place in God’s providence, knowing that He walks with us in every step we take. In our classrooms, we are called to cultivate an environment where faith is not just taught but lived. This year, we will continue to fulfill our mission of providing a Christ centered environment by deepening our faith through prayer, worship and service. In our classrooms and at home, we will encourage our students to seek God in all things, to rely on Him in moments of doubt, and to trust in His plan for their lives.

In a world often clouded by uncertainty and challenges, hope is the light that leads us forward. This school year, we are committed to instilling a sense of hope in our students, reminding them that they are the future and that with God, all things are possible. Hope gives us the courage to dream big, to set goals, and to persevere even when the path ahead seems difficult. Hope is the source of our vision statement “Our Catholic schools thrive in a diverse and ever-changing world.”

Above all, we are called to love each other – unconditionally, selflessly and generously. Love is the heart of our Catholic faith, and of our Catholic school community. In every interaction, in every lesson, we will strive to embody the love of Christ, showing compassion, kindness and respect to everyone we encounter.

Service is the most outward expression of love. This year, we will place a special emphasis on service, encouraging our students to put their love into action by helping those in need, both within our community and beyond. Through acts of kindness, big and small, we will teach our students that love is not just a feeling, but a choice – a choice to live as Christ lived, to serve as He served, and to love as He loved.

Welcoming New Faces to Our School Family
As we begin this exciting new school year, we are blessed to welcome four new administrators to the Diocese of Jackson Catholic education school family. Each brings a wealth of experience, a deep commitment to Catholic education, and a heart full of love for our students and community.

Whest Shirley joins us as the high school principal of Cathedral Catholic School in Natchez. With a strong background in educational leadership, Shirley previously served as superintendent for Concordia Parish, Louisiana and principal of Concordia Parish Academy of Math, Science and Technology.

Cynthia Dixon will lead Holy Family in Holly Springs as principal. She brings her experience from Lewisburg Elementary, a national Blue Ribbon School, and Greenbrook Elementary, where her dynamic leadership will greatly benefit the Holy Family community.

Heather Ascherl is the new principal of St. Joseph Catholic Elementary School (Our Lady of Lourdes) in Greenville. Formerly a regional digital learning coordinator with the Mississippi Department of Education, Ascherl’s expertise in technology and professional development will be invaluable to the St. Joseph community.

Wendi Murray takes on the role of director at St. Paul Early Learning Center, coming from the Rankin County School District’s Early Learning Collaborative. She will be joined by assistant director Susan Irby, a long-time employee of St. Paul’s ELC, following the retirement of Jennifer Henry and Darlene Scanlon.
As we move forward into this new school year, I am filled with excitement and optimism for all that we will accomplish together. With “Faith, Hope and Love” as our guiding virtues, I am confident that this will be a year of incredible growth, learning and spiritual enrichment for all members of our community.

Thank you for your continued trust and partnership in the mission of Catholic education. I look forward to seeing the wonderful things we will achieve together this year. May God bless each of you and may His love guide us in all that we do.

Welcome back, and let’s make this a year to remember!

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