El significado del Domingo de Ramos

Por D.D. Emmons, OSV News

(OSV News) — Es un momento de desesperación, perplejidad y contradicción.

Las mismas personas que aplauden la entrada de Cristo en Jerusalén esa mañana, gritando “Hosanna” y palabras de adoración, en menos de una semana estarán gritando “Crucifícalo”. Pasarán de aclamarlo como el nuevo rey de Israel a pedir que se intercambie su vida por la de un criminal condenado; primero lo alabarán y luego se burlarán de él. Incluso los amigos que entran en Jerusalén a su lado abandonarán a Jesús.

Toda esta discordia tendrá lugar durante una semana que comienza el día que llamamos Domingo de Ramos.

En 2017, los cristianos portan ramas de palma mientras recorren el camino tradicional que siguió Jesús en su última entrada a Jerusalén durante la procesión del Domingo de Ramos en el Monte de los Olivos, en Jerusalén. (Foto OSV News/Debbie Hill)

Como leemos en los Evangelios, Jesús fue a Jerusalén para unirse a multitudes de otros judíos y celebrar la fiesta de la Pascua, tal y como se prescribía en los libros del Antiguo Testamento de Éxodo o y Deuteronomio.

Según el Evangelio de San Juan, Jesús y muchos de sus seguidores recorrieron menos de dos millas desde Betania ese domingo, llegando a las afueras de Jerusalén. Como era costumbre, los peregrinos que ya habían llegado a la ciudad salieron a recibir a los grupos recién llegados; algunos nunca habían visto a Jesús, pero habían oído hablar de los milagros que se le atribuían y se dejaron llevar por el entusiasmo.

Los que llegaban con Jesús y lo saludaban eran numerosos, como explica el Evangelio de San Juan: “La gran multitud (…) se enteró de que Jesús se dirigía a Jerusalén. Y, tomando hojas de palmera, salieron a su encuentro y lo aclamaban diciendo: “¡Hosanna! Bendito el que viene en nombre del Señor, el rey de Israel'” (12,12-13).

Esta adulación no pasó desapercibida para los fariseos que estaban presentes. Le dijeron a Jesús: “Maestro, reprende a tus discípulos”. Él respondió: “Les aseguro que si ellos callan, gritarán las piedras” (véase Lc 19, 39-40). Los fariseos informaron de los acontecimientos al Sanedrín, que consideraba la creciente popularidad de Jesús como una amenaza para su cómoda relación con los romanos. De hecho, estaban planeando asesinarlo.

Anteriormente, Nuestro Señor había evitado deliberadamente la aclamación popular, incluso había huido, pero ahora, al entrar en Jerusalén, la acepta. Sin embargo, sus acciones son diferentes de lo que el pueblo esperaba. No se presenta como un rival de César; no es el mesías político ni el rey guerrero que la multitud había reclamado. En lugar de entrar en Jerusalén en un caballo de guerra o en un carro, entra en un burro, símbolo de paz; y no en cualquier burro, sino en uno en el que nadie se había sentado nunca, la prerrogativa de un rey. Al verlo en el burro, los judíos que se agolpaban a su alrededor recordaron las palabras del profeta Zacarías 500 años antes:

“¡Alégrate mucho, hija de Sión! / ¡Grita de júbilo, hija de Jerusalén! / Mira que tu Rey viene hacia ti; / él es justo y victorioso, / es humilde, y está montado sobre un asno, / sobre la cría de un asna. / Él suprimirá los carros de Efraím / y los caballos de Jerusalén” (Zac 9, 9-10).

El Papa Benedicto XVI explicó estas palabras del Antiguo Testamento en relación con Jesús: Es un rey que destruye las armas de guerra, un rey de paz y un rey de sencillez, un rey e e de los pobres. (…) Jesús no se basa en la violencia; no instiga una revuelta militar contra Roma.

Montado en el asno prestado, Jesús hizo su humilde entrada en la ciudad mientras la multitud esparcía sus vestiduras ante él y agitaba ramas de palmera. Esta escena alegre oculta los actos traicioneros, el dolor y la agonía que pronto seguirán, oculta que este héroe triunfante será crucificado como un criminal.

San Bernardo de Claraval (1090-1153) ofreció una homilía sobre la entrada de Cristo en Jerusalén: “¡Qué diferentes son los gritos de ‘Fuera, fuera con él, crucifícalo’ y luego ‘Bendito el que viene en nombre del Señor, hosanna, en las alturas’! ¡Qué diferentes son los gritos que ahora lo llaman ‘Rey de Israel’ y que dentro de unos días dirán: ‘¡No tenemos más rey que César!’. ¡Qué contraste entre los ramos verdes y la cruz, entre las flores y las espinas! Antes le ofrecían sus propias vestiduras para que caminara sobre ellas, y tan pronto después le despojaban de las suyas y echaban suertes sobre ellas”.

Las palmas eran símbolos de vida entre las tribus nómadas, que, al cruzar el desierto, se regocijaban al ver la palmera, ya que indicaba que cerca había un oasis con agua vivificante. Las palmas han sido durante mucho tiempo un signo de victoria, éxito y gloria. Los ejércitos o líderes victoriosos que regresaban del campo de batalla o de una larga campaña militar eran recibidos por la población que agitaba jubilosamente ramas de palmera. A pesar de la actitud pacífica de Jesús, cuando los judíos le agitaban las palmas y extendían sus ropas sobre las que él cabalgaba, le estaban otorgando los honores de un héroe conquistador y, al mismo tiempo, desafiando a los ocupantes romanos.

El Domingo de Ramos, seguimos saliendo a su encuentro, llevando las palmas bendecidas, cantando con alegría nuestro hosanna y uniéndonos a su entrada triunfal en Jerusalén. Pero pronto nuestra alegría se convierte en tristeza cuando, aferrándonos a nuestras palmas, escuchamos la narración de la pasión de Cristo. Nos damos cuenta, una vez más, de que su triunfo, su verdadera victoria, vendrá a través de la cruz. Sabemos, cómo lo sabía Jesús, cómo terminará la Semana Santa. Sabemos que la alegría se convertirá en tristeza y volverá a ser alegría. Sabemos que a través del horror de su sufrimiento, seguido de la gloria de su resurrección, el bien vencerá al mal y la vida vencerá a la muerte.

Las palmas que llevamos a casa y colocamos en un lugar especial sirven para recordarnos que el Domingo de Ramos no se ha perdido en el tiempo, sino que, gracias a la victoria de Cristo, nosotros también podemos alcanzar la vida eterna.

Poco después de la Resurrección, los cristianos quisieron visitar los lugares de la pasión de Cristo e incluso recrear los incidentes que habían tenido lugar, como su entrada en Jerusalén. Pero tal actividad no sería posible hasta el siglo IV, cuando Constantino se convirtió en emperador del Imperio Romano y puso fin a toda persecución religiosa. Más adelante en ese siglo, una peregrina española llamada Eigera visitó Jerusalén. En su diario, registró cómo los cristianos recreaban los acontecimientos de la Semana Santa.

Escribió que se reunían fuera de la ciudad el domingo antes de Pascua y escuchaban uno de los Evangelios que narraba la entrada triunfal de Cristo en Jerusalén. Luego marchaban juntos a través de las puertas de la ciudad llevando ramas de olivo o de palma. Nuestras procesiones del Domingo de Ramos son similares a las que Eigera presenció hace 17 siglos.

En el siglo IX, la procesión con palmas bendecidas se había extendido más allá de Jerusalén y, durante la Edad Media, se generalizó en toda Europa. En el siglo XVII, los cristianos no solo entraban en la iglesia con palmas, sino que, durante la Misa, las sostenían mientras se leía la Pasión.

A lo largo de los siglos, el Domingo de Ramos y la procesión de personas con palmas se celebraron de diversas maneras. En algunos lugares, el Santísimo Sacramento formaba parte de la procesión; en otros, la congregación comenzaba en el cementerio parroquial y luego entraba en la iglesia. A veces, las palmas se bendecían en una iglesia y la gente, llevándolas consigo, marchaba a otra iglesia para la Misa. Lo más habitual era la bendición de la gente y las palmas en un lugar fuera de la iglesia y luego entrar en procesión. Durante algún tiempo, incluso hasta mediados del siglo XX, el sacerdote vestía ornamentos rojos durante la bendición de las palmas y la procesión y luego se cambiaba a una vestimenta morada para la Misa.

En 1955, la Iglesia estandarizó y simplificó las diferentes entradas utilizadas el Domingo de Ramos: una procesión organizada que comienza en algún lugar fuera de la iglesia, una procesión solemne que comienza dentro de la iglesia o ninguna procesión. La procesión de entrada que comienza en un lugar fuera de la iglesia se utiliza solo una vez durante las misas del fin de semana; no se repite en todas las misas. La iglesia llama a este día Domingo de Ramos de la Pasión del Señor.

What Palm Sunday means

By D.D. Emmons , OSV News

(OSV News) — It is a time of despair, perplexity and contradiction. The very people who applaud Christ’s entrance into Jerusalem that morning, shouting out “Hosanna” and words of adoration will, within a week, be crying, “Crucify him.” They will go from acclaiming him as the new King of Israel to urging his life be traded in favor of a convicted criminal; they will first praise him and then mock him. Even friends entering Jerusalem at his side will desert Jesus.

All this discord will take place during one week beginning on what we call Palm Sunday.

Christians carry palm branches in 2017 while walking the traditional path that Jesus took on his last entry into Jerusalem during the Palm Sunday procession on the Mount of Olives in Jerusalem. (OSV News photo/Debbie Hill)

As we read in the Gospels, Jesus went to Jerusalem to join with throngs of other Jews to celebrate the Passover feast as had been prescribed in the Old Testament books of Exodus and Deuteronomy. According to the Gospel of St. John, Jesus and many of his followers journeyed the less than two miles from Bethany on that Sunday, arriving outside Jerusalem. As was the custom, pilgrims that had already arrived in the city went out to greet newly arriving groups; some had never seen Jesus but had heard about the miracles attributed to him and were caught up in the excitement.

Those arriving with and greeting Jesus were large in number as explained by John’s Gospel: “When the great crowd … heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem, they took palm branches and went out to meet him, and cried out: ‘Hosanna! / Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, (even) the king of Israel'” (12:12-13).

This adulation was not lost on the Pharisees who were present. They said to Jesus, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples.” He said in reply, “I tell you, if they keep silent, the stones will cry out” (see Lk 19:39-40). The Pharisees reported the events back to the Jewish high council, the Sanhedrin, which regarded Jesus’ ever growing popularity as a threat to their cozy relationship with the Romans. They were, in fact, planning to murder him.

Previously, Our Lord had deliberately avoided popular acclaim, even fled, but this, upon entering Jerusalem, he accepts. Yet his actions are different than the people expected. He doesn’t present himself as a rival to Caesar; he is not the political messiah or the warrior king the multitude had clamored for. Instead of entering Jerusalem on a war horse or chariot, he enters on a donkey, a sign of peace; and not just any donkey, but one on which no one had ever sat, the prerogative of a king. Seeing him on the donkey, the Jews surging around him recalled the words of the Prophet Zechariah 500 years earlier:

“Exult greatly, O daughter Zion! / Shout for joy, O daughter Jerusalem! / Behold: your king is coming to you; /a just savior is he, / Humble, and riding on a donkey, / on a colt, the foal of a donkey. / He shall banish the chariot from Ephraim / and the horse from Jerusalem” (Zec 9:9-10).

Pope Benedict XVI explained these Old Testament words as they related to Jesus: “He is a king who destroys the weapons of war, a king of peace and a king of simplicity, a king of the poor. … Jesus is not building on violence; he is not instigating a military revolt against Rome.”

Riding on the borrowed donkey, Jesus made his humble entrance into the city while the crowds were scattering their garments before him and waving their palm branches. This joyful scene belies the traitorous acts, sorrow and agony that will soon follow, belies that this triumphant hero will be crucified like a criminal.

St. Bernard of Clairvaux (1090-1153) offered a homily about Christ’s entry into Jerusalem: “How different the cries, ‘Away with him, away with him, crucify him,’ and then, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, hosanna, in the highest!’ How different the cries are that now are calling him ‘King of Israel’ and then in a few days’ time will be saying, ‘We have no king but Caesar!’ What a contrast between the green branches and the cross, between the flowers and the thorns! Before they were offering their own clothes for him to walk upon, and so soon afterwards they are stripping him of his, and casting lots upon them.”

Palms were symbols of life among the nomadic tribes, who, when crossing the desert, rejoiced at seeing the palm tree as it indicated an oasis with life-giving water was near. Palms have long been a sign of victory, success and glory. Victorious armies or leaders returning from the battlefield or a long military campaign were welcomed by the populace jubilantly waving palm branches. Despite Jesus’ peaceful manner, when the Jews waved the palms at him and spread their clothing over which he rode, they were affording him the honors of a conquering hero and simultaneously defying the Roman occupiers.

On Palm Sunday, we still go out to meet him, carry the blessed palms, joyfully sing out our hosanna and join in his triumphant entrance into Jerusalem. But soon our joy turns to somberness as, clutching our palm, we hear the narrative of Christ’s passion. We realize, once again, that his triumph, his true victory, will come through the cross. We know, as Jesus did, how Holy Week will end. We know that joy will turn to sorrow and back to joy. We know that through the horror of his suffering, followed by the glory of his resurrection, good will trump evil and life will trump death.

The palms we take home and put in a special place serve to remind us that Palm Sunday is not lost to the ages but that by Christ’s victory we, too, can achieve everlasting life.

Soon after the Resurrection, Christians wanted to visit the sites of Christ’s passion and even reenact the incidents that had taken place, such as his entry into Jerusalem. But such activity would not be possible until the fourth century when Constantine became emperor of the Roman Empire and ended all religious persecution. Later in that century, a Spanish pilgrim named Eigera visited Jerusalem. In her diary, she recorded how Christians re-created the events of Holy Week. She wrote that they gathered outside the city on the Sunday before Easter and listened to one of the Gospels telling of Christ’s triumphant entrance into Jerusalem. Then they marched together through the city gates while carrying olive or palm branches. Our Palm Sunday processions are akin to what Eigera witnessed 17 centuries ago.

By the ninth century, the procession with blessed palms had expanded beyond Jerusalem, and during the Middle Ages they became widespread throughout Europe. In the 17th century, Christians were not only processing into church with palms but, during Mass, holding the palms while the Passion was being read.

Through the centuries, Palm Sunday and the procession of people holding palms would be celebrated in a variety of ways. In some locations the Blessed Sacrament was part of the procession, in other places the congregation started in the parish cemetery and then went into the church. Palms were sometimes blessed in one church and the people, carrying the palms, marched to another church for Mass. Most typical was the blessing of the people and the palms at a place outside the church and then processing in. For some time, even through the middle of the 20th century, the priest wore red vestments during the palm blessing and procession and then changed to a violet garment for Mass.

In 1955, the Church standardized and simplified the different entrances used on Palm Sunday: either an organized procession that begins somewhere outside the church, a solemn procession starting inside the church, or no procession at all. An entrance procession beginning at a location outside the church is used only once during the weekend Masses; it is not repeated at every Mass. The church calls this day Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord.

(D.D. Emmons writes from Pennsylvania.)

Sister Thea Bowman had a ‘loving heart,’ ‘ prophetic spirit’ and ‘boundless stamina,’ bishop says

By Jennifer Brinker / St. Louis Review

JACKSON, Miss. (OSV News) — Servant of God Thea Bowman was a beacon for the Church to embrace more authentically the essence of what it means to be Catholic, Bishop Joseph R. Kopacz told Massgoers at the Cathedral of St. Peter the Apostle in Jackson.

“To love the Lord your God with your whole heart, mind, soul and strength, and your neighbor as yourself portrays her lifelong commitment,” he said in his homily at a Feb. 9 Mass of thanksgiving marking the conclusion of the diocesan phase of Sister Thea’s canonization cause. “Her loving heart, her prophetic spirit, her brilliant mind and boundless stamina, even in illness, inspired many.”

The Mass was attended by friends and acquaintances of Sister Thea, representatives from her religious order, the Franciscan Sisters of Perpetual Adoration, members of the historical commission who were part of the diocesan investigation and students from Sister Thea Bowman School in Jackson.

An official closing session of the diocesan phase of the canonization process followed the Mass, where the cause’s leaders ceremoniously sealed several boxes containing the diocesan phase’s documents and findings. In all, 10 boxes containing two sets of documents including more than 15,000 pages each, will be sent to the apostolic nunciature in Washington and then transferred to the Vatican’s Dicastery for the Causes of Saints, which will further investigate the cause.

Jackson’s Bishop Kopacz, the main celebrant at the Mass, was among several bishops who witnessed the closing session. Concelebrants included Archbishop Mark S. Rivituso and retired Archbishop Thomas J. Rodi of Mobile, Alabama, and Bishop Steven J. Raica and retired Bishop Robert J. Baker of Birmingham, Alabama.

Bishop Joseph R. Kopacz places a seal on the boxes for the cause for Sister Thea Bowman, with the assistance of postulator, Emanuele Spedicato on Feb. 9 at the Cathedral of St. Peter the Apostle. (Photo by Tereza Ma/Mississippi Catholic)

Bishop Kopacz in 2018 opened the cause for Sister Thea, a native of Mississippi who was born in Yazoo City and raised in Canton. She was the only African American member of the Wisconsin-based Franciscan Sisters of Perpetual Adoration. Before she died of cancer in 1990 at age 52, she was a widely known speaker, evangelizer and singer.

Nearly eight years after the cause was opened, Bishop Kopacz described the moment of closing the diocesan phase of the investigation as a blessing, especially for those who have been inspired by Sister Thea’s life.

“There’s considerable joy in the African American community,” he said. “It radiates throughout the whole diocese. Our Hispanic population is very proud of Sister Thea Bowman, too. They look to her as someone who had done a lot in her life and inspires them, in spite of obstacles, to continue forward. She had a great passion and love for God, and she saw the Church as the body of Christ as being for all. She taught people to be proud of their culture, and yet see the universality of the Church.”

Among the documents and findings related to Sister Thea are interviews with more than 40 witnesses as well as her writings, articles and other items pertaining to her life, said Emanuele Spedicato, the postulator for the cause who has been charged with sending the documents to Rome.

There are main components of a canonization investigation, which include a proven reputation for holiness, a rigorous examination of the candidate’s writings and life, the testimony of witnesses regarding heroic virtue and the investigation of at least one miracle attributed to their intercession.

Notary for the cause, Fabvienen Taylor witnesses Emanuele Spedicato place the final documents in the boxes for the cause for Servant of God Sister Thea Bowman.

Once the Vatican accepts the acts of the diocesan investigation, the sealed boxes will be opened and then begins the work of summarizing the information, said Spedicato, who will be tasked with writing the “positio,” which lays out the case for sainthood. From there, it is sent to the Dicastery for the Causes of Saints and then ultimately to the pope.

“The most exciting part is being here today and showing the people the formalities (of the investigation) that are not only formalities but it’s for a purpose,” Spedicato said.

Sister Thea is among seven Black Catholics with active sainthood causes — dubbed the “Saintly Seven.”

Of the seven, four have been declared “Venerable”: Mother Mary Lange, who founded the Oblate Sisters of Providence, the first Catholic order of African American women religious, in Baltimore; Father Augustus Tolton from Chicago, the first Catholic priest in the United States known to be Black; Pierre Toussaint from New York City, known for his works of charity; and Mother Henriette Delille, foundress of the Sisters of the Holy Family in New Orleans.

Two others, like Sister Thea, have the title “Servant of God”: Julia Greeley, who was born into slavery and after her emancipation later moved to Denver, where she was known for her works of charity; and Father Martin de Porres Maria Ward, a Conventual Franciscan and Boston native who served the poor and the sick on mission in Brazil well into the late 1990s.

Myrtle Otto

Among those who attended the Mass at the Jackson cathedral was Myrtle Otto, one of Sister Thea’s pupils at Holy Child Jesus School in Canton.

After joining the Francsican Sisters of Perpetual Adoration, Sister Thea returned to the school where she once was a student to teach music and English literature. She often stressed the importance of receiving a good education but also knew how to have fun, too, Otto said.

“We respected her in the utmost,” she said, adding that Sister Thea’s legacy should live on in how we treat others.

“Always learn to be kind,” Otto said. “Always learn to give people what’s due to them. She was a strong woman, and she taught us how to be strong. Regardless of what goes on, you pray and you go on and you’ll be successful. She’s now gone to glory with God.”

Several members of the Franciscan Sisters of Perpetual Adoration leadership were in attendance, including Sister Georgia Christensen, who knew Sister Thea from the time they were junior professed sisters.

Years ago during one of her assignments at a predominantly Black school in California, Sister Thea had come to help out for a brief period and was encouraging with the students, Sister Georgia recalled.

“She always had a spirit of joy about her,” she told the St. Louis Review, news outlet of the St. Louis Archdiocese, which Sister Thea visited on numerous occasions in the 1980s.

“She was able to break into song at any time, just praising God and making others happy. It touches the soul, and what it says is her life was a life worth living,” Sister Georgia recalled.

As part of their community’s perpetual adoration, the Franciscan sisters include a prayer at the end of every hour with the line: “All praise and all thanksgiving, be every moment thine.”

“I couldn’t help but think of that here today,” Sister Georgia said. “This is a moment of glory to God and Thea was the cause of it.”


Jennifer Brinker is a reporter at the St. Louis Review and Catholic St. Louis, the news outlets of the Archdiocese of St. Louis. This story was originally published by the St. Louis Review and distributed through a partnership with OSV News.

Hope Rising: Diocese launches 2026 Catholic Service Appeal

By Joanna Puddister King
JACKSON – As the Diocese of Jackson approaches Commitment Sunday for the 2026 Catholic Service Appeal (CSA), Catholics across the diocese are invited to prayerfully reflect on their commitment to prayer, participation, and generosity in support of ministries that serve communities throughout the diocese.

Commitment Weekend, including the in-pew collection, will take place Feb. 14–15 in parishes across the diocese.

The theme for the 2026 Appeal, Hope Rising, reflects both the spiritual foundation of the CSA and its tangible impact across the diocese. Rooted in the Gospel and inspired by the Beatitudes, the Appeal supports ministries that bring Christ’s compassion to life in parishes, missions and communities large and small.

Bishop Joseph R. Kopacz has emphasized that hope is not an abstract idea, but something made visible through the shared mission of the Church. When Catholics live out the Beatitudes, he notes, hope does not merely glimmer – it rises. Through the Catholic Service Appeal, the faithful become a living witness of Christ’s compassion, serving those in need and strengthening the Church across the Diocese of Jackson.

Funds raised through the CSA support a wide range of diocesan ministries, including the formation of future priests, care for retired clergy, prison ministry, faith formation programs, and the charitable outreach of Catholic Charities. Together, these ministries serve individuals and families facing hardship, accompany those seeking healing and reconciliation, and nurture faith at every stage of life.

The Appeal is the primary means by which the diocese funds ministries that no single parish could sustain alone. Through the Catholic Service Appeal, each parish works toward a shared goal to help sustain diocesan ministries, and through this shared participation, Catholics across the Diocese of Jackson help ensure that pastoral care, education, charitable outreach and evangelization remain accessible in every corner of the diocese.

While the CSA is a financial appeal, diocesan leaders stress that it begins with prayer. Parishioners are encouraged to reflect on how God is calling them to participate – through prayer, service, and, as they are able, financial support.

As one diocesan family, Catholics are invited to be the hands and heart of Christ. When the faithful walk together in faith and generosity, hope truly rises for those they serve.

For more information about the 2026 Catholic Service Appeal, visit csa.jacksondiocese.org or contact Rebecca Harris, director of stewardship and development at rebecca.harris@jacksondiocese.org.

Diocesan teens gather for annual SEARCH Retreat

By Joanna Puddister King
GALLMAN – High school juniors and seniors from across the Diocese of Jackson gathered at Camp Wesley Pines near Hazlehurst Jan. 16–18 for the annual diocesan SEARCH Retreat. SEARCH is a Catholic youth retreat modeled after the Cursillo retreat for adults, designed specifically for high school juniors and seniors who desire to deepen their faith and relationship with Christ.

A retreat “for teens, led by teens,” SEARCH is an experience like none other, with a strong focus on vocations. It engages youth in a special way and calls them to live out their Catholic faith in a bold, real, active and healthy way.

“Much of what happens in the retreat is kept a mystery, but a few things are certain – you will have fun, you will be challenged to grow in your faith, and chances are you will make a few new friends,” said Abbey Schuhmann, coordinator of the Office of Youth Ministry for the Diocese of Jackson.

The retreat team is primarily made up of a youth staff of teens who have previously attended a SEARCH retreat. Once a teen attends a SEARCH weekend, he or she has the opportunity to apply to staff future retreats, Schuhmann explained.

While the teens lead the retreat, adult leaders and clergy serve largely behind the scenes. Deacon Will Foggo assisted throughout the weekend and led adoration and benediction, helping guide the teens in prayer and worship. Seminarians Joe Pearson and Henry Haley were also present, offering witness talks and spending time with participants to share about vocational discernment and life in seminary.

The SEARCH model gives youth the opportunity to demonstrate and carry out servant leadership. The retreat would not be possible without the support of adult volunteers who have served in this ministry for many years.

“We are especially grateful to Ann and Jeff Cook for continuing to serve as volunteer adult SEARCH coordinators,” Schuhmann said. “Without their dedicated service, this ministry would not be where it is today.”

The SEARCH ministry continues to grow in the diocese, with each retreat welcoming new participants into what has become a strong and enduring SEARCH family.

Mardi Gras floats thrive in Gerow family

From the Archives
By Mary Woodward
Since Mardi Gras is approaching and parades are rolling all over the region, I wanted to share a fun fact about Bishop Richard Gerow’s father, Warren Rosecranz Gerow.

As I have chronicled in these columns, Bishop Gerow is a native of Mobile. There is a big debate as to where the first Mardi Gras celebration occurred in the United States. New Orleans claims Mardi Gras, but Mobile is fiercely protective of the fact that the first hint of Mardi Gras on the soil of the country happened around 1699 outside of its current location. I think the towns have settled on Mobile came first, and New Orleans made it bigger. That is probably the best consensus among the ranks.

With that being said, let me tell you about Bishop Gerow’s father. Warren Gerow was born in Mobile on Aug. 21, 1850 to Warren DeLancey Gerow and Charlotte Rosecranz, who had moved to Mobile from Duchess County, New York prior to the arrival of Warren Rosecranz. He was the oldest of Warren and Charlotte’s four children.

Warren DeLancey was a shipbuilder and probably moved to Mobile, which was growing into a large port. The family home was a one-story wood-framed building on the east side of Hamilton Street near Eslava Street. Bishop Gerow in his Reminiscences describes the yard as having two fig trees and that he would visit his grandparents much more often during fig season. Having a fig tree in my yard, I understand why the visits were probably daily during July.

Bishop Gerow’s father married Annie Skehan on April 11, 1883. Two years later on May 3, the future bishop, Richard Oliver Gerow was born to Warren and Annie.

Let me allow Bishop Gerow to take it from here: “My father received his education in the public schools of Mobile. His early years gave evidence of a talent for art, drawing and painting, and later this became most helpful to him when he was engaged permanently by the Order of Myths (OOM) for designing and construction of the Mardi Gras floats of that Order.

“He was a great reader and student all his life and accumulated a rather fine library of classics of history, science, and literature. I still have very vivid memory of my father. As I grew we became the greatest of close pals. To me he was the greatest man in the world.

“I remember well the large warehouse on Commerce Street where he used to construct the floats. I was a frequent visitor, and I had the esteemed privilege of knowing long in advance the great secret of what the floats would represent when they were paraded on Mardi Gras night.

“I still remember many of the intriguing floats. One particularly I remember had little electric bulbs lighted at the tip of gigantic morning glory blossoms each representing a sparkling dew drop. “In order to light these bulbs my father had to construct within the float a dynamo – for storage batteries were not available in those days. I remember that at night at home he would study books on electricity. I remember, too, the big wheel within the float with iron cranks on either side had to be turned by two muscular men – and it worked beautifully.

“Other cities from time to time called upon him to put on pageants – among these was Baltimore, Albany, Vicksburg. He was a member of the No. 5 Volunteer Fire Department and also of a Volunteer Company of the U.S. Artillery.

“On May 29, 1894, my father died; he was buried in the Gerow lot in Magnolia Cemetery. During his long illness he gave serious thought to preparing his soul for death. He had not been a church-goer for many years. He now gave thought to the Catholic Church, and well before he died his family had the pleasure and consolation of seeing him received into the Catholic Church and prepared with the last sacraments.”

Having come upon this account in Bishop Gerow’s Reminiscences I will have a more nostalgic and more appreciative experience of Mardi Gras this year. Bishop Gerow was only 11 when his father died. His father had become his closest friend and losing one’s father at any age is so difficult. But losing one’s father at such a young age had a profound effect on young Richard.

As I have written before, Richard grew up in the shadow of the Cathedral, and he received all his sacraments there, except for ordination to the priesthood. His father would have been received into the church there.

As he grew older, Bishop Edward Allen became somewhat of a spiritual father to Richard. Bishop Allen would have helped guide Richard ultimately to seminary and ordination. But I sense that Warren Rosecranz Gerow was deep within Richard’s heart as a profoundly spiritual and creative driving force who instilled in his young son a sense of wonderment for creation and a love for arts and sciences that he carried with him throughout his life.

I hope this memory of Bishop Gerow inspires you as much as it has inspired me. Have a wonderful and safe Mardi Gras and a blessed Lenten journey.

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

Annie Skehan Gerow is pictured in an undated photograph taken prior to 1894. At left, her husband, Warren Rosecranz Gerow, father of Bishop Richard Gerow, is shown in an undated portrait. Warren Gerow was a Mobile native known for his artistic talent and work designing Mardi Gras floats for the Order of Myths. (Photo from archives)

Bearing hope in a land that hungers for peace

By Bishop Joseph R. Kopacz, D.D.
In January 2026, The Holy Land Co-ordination undertook its annual mission to the land made holy by the incarnate presence of the Lord nearly 2,000 years ago. The Holy Land Coordination was initiated by the Vatican, the Holy See at the beginning of the third millennium in order to deepen the relationship between the Christian communities in Palestine and Israel with Catholic Episcopal Conferences in Europe, the British Isles, Canada and the United States. Its defining characteristics are pilgrimage, prayer, presence, and pressure or persuasion. The theme for 2026 was: A Land of Promise – Encounter and dialogue with People of Hope.

Bishop Joseph Kopacz visited a Bedouin community outside of Jerusalem on the Holy Land Co-ordination pilgrimage undertaken by various Catholic Episcopal Conferences in Europe, British Isles, Canada and the United States. This year’s theme was A Land of Promise – Encounter and dialogue with People of Hope. (Photo by Marcin Mazur/Catholic Church of England and Wales)

The pilgrimage included a visit to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher where we celebrated Mass at the Lord’s tomb on two consecutive days. The first moment of the resurrection dawned on this site when the risen Lord Jesus blessed men and women of every age with the hope and peace that the world cannot give and for which the Holy Land hungers and thirsts. The Eucharist was the heart of each day and especially meaningful when celebrated with various communities of biblical roots. This pilgrimage did not include the traditional holy sites marking the Lord’s life, death and resurrection, but rather an experience of the sacred each time the people of Palestine and Jerusalem opened their hearts and homes to us in wholehearted hospitality.

Along with pilgrimage and prayer, another pillar of the Holy Land Co-ordination is presence. Each encounter with diverse communities on the margins was an opportunity to humbly listen to their stories of daily hardship and yet to witness their resolve not to give up hope for a life of dignity and peace. Our presence was an embrace of hope, an assurance that they are not forgotten. Who are the marginalized in Palestine and Israel whose voices are barely heard during the current din of war and catastrophic destruction in Gaza in response to the heinous act of terrorism on Oct. 7, 2023.

At the outset, we sat with a Bedouin community who are visible from the highway that leads from Jerusalem to Jericho toward the Jordan River and the Dead Sea. Their ancient way of life is threatened daily by the intimidation and violence of the extremist Jewish settlers who want to drive them from the land. These nomadic tribes are recognized by law and so they seek legal recourse from the government over their plight, but their voices are barely heard, and their rights are routinely ignored. They were grateful that we spent time with them in conversation that continued over a traditional Bedouin meal. It was an affirmation of their dignity, a great gift for them and for us.

Bishop Joseph Kopacz pauses in prayer while lighting a candle at St. George Greek Orthodox Church in Taybeh during the Holy Land Co-ordination pilgrimage. (Photos by Marcin Mazur/Catholic Church of England and Wales)

Throughout the West Bank many Palestinian communities have been under extreme duress and relentless pressure to leave their ancestral lands and villages either through internal displacement or external migration. We visited Taybeh – a Christian community of approximately 1,300 residents who are struggling mightily for their survival. We celebrated Sunday Mass and afterwards listened to the elders of the town who spoke about their struggle that has led to the forced migration of nearly 90% of their family members and neighbors. Extremist Jewish settlers destroy their olive trees, steal or kill the livestock, confiscate their land and cast a climate of fear over this besieged community. In the current climate especially, their voices go unheard, and their rights are relentlessly trampled. The Taybeh community is indicative of the evident diminishment of the Christian population in the Holy Land. Those who remain are long suffering and survive by relying on the generosity of those who left and have not forgotten them, as well as their own industriousness born of their love for their ancestral homeland. Courage and hope are renewed with visits such as ours. On another note, considered to be the first Palestinian brewery, Taybeh beer made on site is delicious, and provides much needed employment for some of the locals.

Leaving the West Bank, we visited the St. James Vicariate of the Latin Patriarchy which is comprised of Hebrew speaking Christians in Israel. They were eager to point out that they have lived peacefully for generations in the midst of their Jerusalem Jewish neighborhoods. Whereas Arabic is the mother tongue of the Palestinian population, the Hebrew speaking Catholic Christian is a rarity – 1,000 to 2,000 in the dominant culture of 8 million. They work tirelessly to teach the faith to the next generation of their children and youth, as well as to serve the Catholic migrants in Israel who come from the Philippines and other countries to shore up Israel’s work force.

We had the privilege of a lengthy visit with Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa, the Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem and his staff that included the Eucharist, a sumptuous meal and presentations that provided a broader perspective of the besieged Christian population in the Holy Land that includes Palestine, Jordan and Cyprus. His ardent prayer and hope are to see the return of the flow of pilgrims and tourists to the holy sites from around the world because the locals suffer greatly in their absence.

On the final day of the Holy Land Co-ordination pilgrimage, Bishop Kopacz and the group had an opportunity to visit the St. John Paul II Foundation, an educational institution for Christian youth, located in Bethlehem.

In the midst of our visit to the Latin Patriarchy, we heard from Father Gabriel Romanelli via Zoom. He is the pastor of Holy Family Parish in Gaza who has lived with the daily devastation since the war began. No one can reverse the unimaginable loss of life and the destruction of essential structures and infrastructure, but he is hoping that governments and NGOs can collaborate to begin the rebuilding process without delay. In his experience, each day that passes without the distribution of food, medicine and water is a death sentence for many who are extremely vulnerable. All people of good will are hoping against hope that the peace plan takes hold, and the weapons are put aside.

Another key facet of our pilgrimage were gatherings with those dedicated to reconciliation, justice and peace. In these dark times of war and devastation, voices for peace in Israel are given little credence from the majority of the population and have no chance at all among the hardliners and extremists. In many sectors of society, the peacemakers are not considered blessed, but treasonous for deviating from the prevailing standard of uncompromising retribution. This goes for the majority on both sides. Nonetheless, the voices and witness of The Rossing Center for Education and Dialogue, of Rabbis for Human Rights and the Defense of Human Dignity, and of the Parents Circle – Family Forum whose members, Palestinian and Israelis, have lost children to war and terrorism, and yet walk side by side, were all points of light and hope. Against all odds, they persevere with their vision for a sustainable and humane future and tirelessly work to impact the hearts and minds of the young, especially in the education system and other forums.

The final day for the Holy Land Co-ordination pilgrimage was in Bethlehem where the Christian population is greatly diminished, having been scattered to the four winds in recent decades. Many have left the city of the Lord’s birth and now live in the Diaspora, so to speak, likely never to return to their homeland. Nevertheless, we had the opportunity to visit a school for the deaf, the St. John Paul II Foundation, an educational institution for Christian youth, and the Latin Patriarch seminary that has recently reopened its doors to candidates from Palestine, Jordan and Cyprus. In these three diverse educational settings, hope is renewed in the eager faces of the children, youth and candidates for the priesthood. Of course, the generosity from Christians from afar is crucial for the survival of these institutions.

In conclusion, each evening the bishops and staff gathered for reflection, conversation and prayer. From this hour of prayerful listening to one another and to the Holy Spirit the accompanying statement was written to be distributed by our Episcopal Conferences and through our (arch)dioceses. In doing so, the fourth pillar of pressure/persuasion of the Holy Land Co-ordination is addressed. May the seeds that are planted through this unique pilgrimage in solidarity with many who cry out in this tortured land, produce a harvest of justice and peace.

Final Communiqué of the Co-ordination of Episcopal Conferences in Support of the Church of the Holy Land, 17 – 21 January 2026

Final Communiqué of the Co-ordination of Episcopal Conferences in Support of the Church of the Holy Land17 – 21 January 2026

“You are the salt of the earth; you are the light of the world” Matthew 5:13-14

Our pilgrimage was to a Land where people are suffering trauma. We began with a visit to Bedouin communities living on the margins of society in the Occupied West Bank. They shared their experiences of a life on the periphery, being observed but often not encountered, their movement heavily restricted by rapidly expanding settlements encircling them on the surrounding hills.

We heard stories about Israeli settler attacks and their continual violence and intimidation, theft of livestock and demolition of property, leaving many unable to sleep at night for fear of further violence. When we asked them who sees their struggles and their cry to live in peace with their neighbors, they replied: “Nobody sees us.”

A family praises God at Taybeh Parish – Christ the Redeemer Church, located in the center of the West Bank. Bishops from the Holy Land Co-ordination pilgrimage attended Mass in January 2026 and visited with the community. (Photo by Marcin Mazur/Catholic Church of England and Wales)

Our journey continued with Mass in the only completely Christian town in Palestine. They, too, told us of their suffering: endless attacks from extremist settlers, uprooting of their olive trees, the seizure of their land and intimidatory acts that make their daily life unbearable, driving many into mass emigration. In the twelve months since our last visit, the Land of Promise is being diminished and challenged. Gaza remains a catastrophic humanitarian crisis. The people of the West Bank we encountered are demoralized and fearful. The courageous Israeli voices which speak out for human and civil rights are increasingly threatened; advocating for marginalized voices is a costly solidarity. We fear that soon, they too will be silenced.

As Christians, it is our calling and duty to give a voice to the voiceless, and to bear witness to their dignity, so that the world may know their suffering and be moved to advocate for justice and compassion.
The settlements in the West Bank, illegal under international law, continue to expand by commandeering the land of others. The universality of human rights applies to all without exception. Instead, it is relentlessly replaced by a system where dignity and protection depend on one’s civil status.

We affirm Israel’s right to exist and for Israelis to live in peace and security; equally, we call for these same rights to be upheld for all those rooted in this land. We hope that efforts for peace will prevail over violence, and that there will be no more acts of terrorism and war. We also urge our governments to exert pressure on Israel to uphold the rules-based international order and to revive meaningful negotiations toward a two-state solution for the benefit and security of all.

We were deeply moved by the faith and steadfastness of local Christians and also by people of other faiths who work to sustain the hope of their communities. They remind us that it is our shared vocation to be “salt of the earth” and “light of the world” and to strive for peaceful coexistence and security across the Holy Land.

We also witnessed the courage of those Jewish and Palestinian voices who, despite immense challenges and their own trauma, continue to advocate for justice, dialogue and reconciliation. Hearing from parents who have lost a child to conflict and can still find a way to forgive, offers a powerful witness to the possibility of peace and reconciliation. Few experiences are more devastating. When such a mother or father pleads for an end to violence, the world must listen – and act.

The people of the Holy Land cry out for our help and prayers; they long for an end to their suffering. Stand with them. Recognize their plea for dignity. Help foster genuine dialogue between communities. Heed the call of Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa, the Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, to come on pilgrimage as a sign of our love, support and solidarity with them.

As we leave this Land, we do so with our hearts full of compassion for those who are suffering and inspired by those who, by their pursuit of justice, keep the hope of peace alive.
Our Lady Queen of Palestine and of all the Holy Land, pray for us.

Rt. Rev. Nicholas Hudson
Bishop of Plymouth

Moderator of the Holy Land Coordination

Chair of the International Affairs Department, Bishops’ Conference
 England and Wales

Rt. Rev. Nicolo Anselmi
Bishop of Rimini

Italy

Most Rev. Udo Bentz
Archbishop of Paderborn

Germany


Rt. Rev. Peter Burcher
Bishop Emeritus of Reykjavik

Denmark, Finland, Iceland, Norway, Sweden, Switzerland

Rt. Rev. James Curry
Auxiliary Bishop of Westminster

International Affairs Department, Bishops’ Conference
England and Wales

Rt. Rev. Paul Dempsey
Auxiliary Bishop of Dublin

Ireland

Rt. Rev. Michel Dubost C.I.M.
Bishop Emeritus of Evry-Corbeil-Essonnes
France

Most Rev. Antoine Herouard
Archbishop of Dijon
Co-President of Justice & Peace, Europe

Vice-President of COMECE

France

Rt. Rev. Joseph Kopacz

Bishop of Jackson
International Justice and Peace Department, Bishops’ Conference

United States of America


Most Rev. William Nolan
Archbishop of Glasgow
Justice and Peace Scotland
Scotland

Rt. Rev. Christian Rodembourg M.S.A.
Bishop of Saint-Hyacinthe

Canada

Most Rev. Joan Enric Vives Sicilia
Bishop Emeritus of Urgell

Spain

Rt. Rev. Abdallah Elias Zaidan
Bishop of the Maronite Eparchy of Our Lady of Lebanon

Chair of the Committee on International Justice and Peace, Bishops’ Conference
United States of America

Learning the heart of the priesthood

GUEST COLUMN
By Joe Pearson
There were many sleepy eyes as we seminarians gathered for Mass at 3:15 a.m. before departing for our mission trip to Costa Rica. The chapel was dark and quiet, without the usual buzz of the choir rehearsing, but there was an air of excitement and anticipation.

The prayer over the Offerings for that Mass, the Memorial of St. Francis Xavier, was a fitting send-off: “Receive, O Lord, these offerings we bring you in commemoration of St. Francis Xavier, and grant that, as he journeyed to distant lands out of longing for the salvation of souls, so we, too, bearing effective witness to the Gospel, may, with our brothers and sisters, eagerly hasten toward you. Through Christ our Lord.”

Joe Pearson

As part of our priestly formation, each year the class of first-configuration seminarians travels to the Diocese of Limón on the western coast of Costa Rica. The week consists of evangelization, manual labor and the celebration of liturgy with the people.

Our flight arrived in the capital city of San José, and from there we bused to our base camp in Limón. We were joyfully greeted by Father Pablo Escriva de Romani, a missionary priest originally from Madrid, Spain, who would be our leader for the week. We immediately gathered for an hour of Eucharistic exposition and evening prayer.

“It is important to remember we are evangelists, not social workers,” Father Pablo said over dinner that first night, a point he reiterated throughout the trip. The source of our strength was prayer. Our purpose was not merely to perform charitable acts but to encounter people. Our motivation was not simply that it is good to help those in need. We have encountered the gratuitous love of our Lord, and as a consequence we are compelled to share that love with our neighbors, especially the poor, with whom Christ aligns himself in a unique way.

The next day, we set out a few miles down the road to work in conjunction with the Missionaries of Charity, the religious order founded by St. Mother Teresa. Through them, we were connected with two refugee families whose homes were in desperate need of repair. We spent the day tearing out rotting floors and digging holes for the concrete pillars that would support new ones. Throughout our work, we spoke with the families, and at the end of the day we gathered to pray with them and thank them for the opportunity to serve.

From there, our trip transitioned as we drove to remote villages of the indigenous people to minister to them and celebrate Mass. I rode with Father Pablo as we bounced along rough mountain roads in his old 4Runner. His excitement was contagious. He grinned from ear to ear, like a child awaiting Christmas morning. His love for the people was tangible.

For more than 40 years, the indigenous communities had not been visited by a priest until Father Pablo began doing so about 10 years ago. The people knew they were Catholic in name but little else about the faith. Over years of loving, zealous care, Father Pablo has helped build up a vibrant community.

I was deeply moved by the faith of the indigenous people. Many walked miles along rugged mountain paths from neighboring villages when they heard Mass would be offered on Sunday. They prayed fervently late into the night before the Blessed Sacrament.

At the end of our trip, we set aside a full day for a silent retreat to reflect on our experiences and the graces the Lord offered during our time on mission. It is true that the Lord is never outdone in generosity. As missionaries, we prepare to give of ourselves and to witness selflessly and boldly to the Gospel. Yet so often it is the people we encounter who witness to us by their faith, leaving us spiritually edified.

Over the course of the mission trip, we experienced the essence of the priesthood: offering worship to God and, out of longing for the salvation of souls, inviting all to share in the joy of the Gospel. And what a joy it is. As we invite others to hasten toward the Savior, we simultaneously hasten toward him ourselves. There is no greater gift, no greater happiness.

(Joe Pearson is a seminarian for the Diocese of Jackson in the first-configuration class at St. Joseph Seminary College in St. Benedict, Louisiana.)

Called by Name

Our seminarians are back at school following Christmas break. Many of our men spent time in their home parishes or in other parishes throughout the diocese. One of the movements of formation is a desire to spend time in the parish and in the rectory as guys progress closer to priesthood. I hosted several of our seminarians here at the Cathedral Rectory, and I’m grateful to other brother priests who made their homes available as well.

Beyond spending time with family and in parishes, our seminarians also participate in diocesan events as they are able when they are home. The winter SEARCH retreat hosted by the Office of Youth Ministry has long been a great event where our guys can share their gifts. SEARCH has long been a keystone event for high schoolers in our youth groups and Catholic schools. It is a weekend-long retreat that has helped countless young people come closer to Christ at this key point in their lives.

I appreciate Abbey Schuhmann, our diocesan youth coordinator, for having the seminarians help plan and execute liturgies and to help accompany the teens who are on retreat. This tradition goes back at least 2012 when I was in seminary. Back then, Father Aaron Williams was a SEARCH alum who made it a priority to provide beautiful opportunities for liturgical prayer for the teens while he was a seminarian. He passed that role to Father Andrew Bowden, who passed it to Deacon Will Foggo, who is passing that role (I think!) to Joe Pearson.

I was very proud to see Deacon Will at SEARCH this year leading adoration and benediction for the teens. It was a full-circle moment for him, having been a youth group member at St. Paul Flowood and a SEARCH participant, and now leading the teens in prayer as an ordained minister. This is the sort of homegrown story that I always try to highlight. The seminarians we have are from our communities, and, when ordained, will serve our communities. So much goodness can come forth from this type of continuity, both for the people of God and for the seminarians and priests of our diocese.

I was a little embarrassed, however, during benediction. Like a proud dad, I got my phone out to take a picture of Deacon Will, and I forgot to put it on silent. So when I took the photo, there was a loud click in the midst of the beauty and silence of benediction. Whoops. Sorry, Lord.