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As most of you know, right after we moved across the country, my family went on pilgrimage to France. All throughout the pilgrimage, I was in awe of the art I witnessed--the amazing statues, the churches, the paintings, the little details in the quaint French villages, the lace, the flowers. Constantly, I was just astounded at the work of human hands. And throughout the pilgrimage, several of us mentioned the fact that beautiful things take time to make and "thank God people had the patience and fortitude to see these incredible projects through." Upon arriving home, my household goods were delivered--literally the day after we got back--and I set to work trying to make my house a home. After about a week in, I was frustrated that things weren't moving along. Then I got really mad and gripped about how long it was taking and stormed around saying, "This is taking forever!" I wanted the house to be beautiful, homey, and cozy within days. On Saturday, I was still feeling anxious about it all when my son said, "The boxes are really clearing out! It feels more like home." I looked around and where I saw a mess, he saw the effort and the effects of all the work. I had to kick myself. Here I was in awe of the time it took to make gorgeous sculptures like the one in the picture from Chartes, and I couldn't allow myself even a few weeks to get a house together. I wasn't allowing myself time to cultivate beauty, yet I appreciated artists ability to do so. Beautiful things do take time. Even the creation of the world didn't happen in an instant. God didn't snap His fingers and the earth was blue and green and perfect. He allowed things to develop over time, perhaps to teach us to allow time for beauty. Beautiful things take effort and patience, Catholic Pilgrims, and sometimes, they take a lifetime of work, yet the end result is worth it all. Have a great Monday.
Today's small-town church showcase comes to us from Ammannsville, TX, a tiny unincorporated town between San Antonio and Houston. This is St. John the Baptist Catholic Church and it is one of the famous painted churches of Texas. Stop in Schulenburg Chamber of Commerce for a Painted Churches Tour map if you plan to cruise around and see these works of art. I'm getting conflicting numbers on exactly how many churches are on the tour, so maybe one of you in the know can fill us in. They are called painted churches not because of the outside, but because of the inside. St. John the Baptist is known for its pink interior, which looks like it is always ready for Gaudete and Laetare Sunday. The inside is lovely and shows how the German and Czech people put a lot of devotion into making these churches beautiful. I've never been on the Painted Churches Tour, but it definitely looks like a "pilgrimage" I need to take. All the churches are on the Registry of National Historical Places. So, if ever wandering around the big 'ole state of Texas and you need something to do, go on the Painted Churches Tour. I think you'll love it. Live the Faith boldly, Catholic Pilgrims, and travel well.
It’s been almost half a year, but I finally finished “The Brothers Karamazov.” It’s not because I didn’t like it that it took me so long. It’s just that other book clubs, traveling, and moving got in the way. This is probably the most complex fiction book I have ever read. It feels like Dostoevsky took a year, watched his town and the people in it, and then weaved all their lives together in this story. There are at least five different stories running through this book and, in my opinion, they don’t all fit together in a way that is satisfying. The central story follows four brothers—Mitya, Ivan, Alyosha, and Smerdyakov—as they live out their very different lives. Alyosha being the only one who isn’t sunk in some kind of sin. Only two of the boys—Ivan and Alyosha—have the same mother. Their father is not a good man and he ends up murdered. Mitya is the one arrested for his murder and put on trial. By the time you finish the book, the beginning with Father Zosima seems like a lifetime ago. I was disappointed in the ending. After such a long book with so many details, I was frustrated that it kind of just leaves you hanging and ends abruptly. Overall, I enjoyed the book and am happy I read it. It is a book that is referenced so much that it is good to gain an understanding of it. It is very involved and isn’t a light-hearted read, so be ready to put in some effort. The man, Luke Thompson, who reads it on Audible does a fantastic job of giving the characters voices and dramatizing the sentences. He really makes it come alive and helps you to see how something should be read. So, I would recommend his reading of it. All in all, a great piece of literature that probably takes more than one reading to fully let it seep into your bones. Not my favorite book of all time, but worth the read. Have a great Wednesday, Catholic Pilgrims!
Good morning, Catholic Pilgrims. Light is a very strange thing. You can see it, but you cannot hold it or grab it. You can pass your hand through it and nothing really happens. It's called a wave and a particle. It delivers energy. It allows us to see color. I'm sure you've noticed how in a dark room, nothing has color until light hits it. I find light fascinating and to me it is one of the things that proves that God is real. There is nothing like light here in our created world. We are completely dependent upon it and people even suffer sadness when there isn't enough of it. When God decided to create everything, it was light that kicked the whole thing off. Light was brought into existence by God's word. It's hard to fathom what that even means. Jesus is called the Light. Whether we want to acknowledge it or not, we are dependent on Him. He adds "color" to our world and without Him, sadness will consume. He is, also, what brings us out of darkness. Have a wonderful day, Catholic Pilgrims. Live the faith boldly and travel well this Monday.
Over these many years of being on here writing about God, I’ve had a lot of commenters that have shown up to say things like: “I don’t need church. I feel God out in nature.” “I don’t need to sit in a pew. I can get the same experience praying in my car on the way to work.” “Jesus never said go to church. You don’t need the walls.” Sure, you can “feel” God out in nature and it’s good to pray in your car on the way to work. However, in the Old Testament, God did lay out a very specific way that He wanted to be worshipped. He wanted the Lord’s Day kept holy and the Jews knew that it was a day to go to the Temple or the synagogue. There was a liturgy and principal players. The people were there to offer worship and sacrifices and the Rabbis taught and the priests offered the sacrifices. Now, a lot of people think that Jesus trashed all that and decided that from now on, people can just practice their faith however they desire on their own. But, this is wrong and prideful. Everything in the New Testament elevates what was in the Old. We are still meant to be a community coming together to worship. We are meant to assist at the Mass. We are meant to be there as the priest offers the perpetual sacrifice of the Son to the Father and receive that sacrifice back as the Eucharist—the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Our Lord. You can’t do that on your own on a hiking trail or in a car. Dom Hubert von Zeller once wrote, “But God wants something more out of us than sympathy. And if we attend Mass properly, He gets something more out of us than sympathy. He gets our wills, which mean more to Him than our feelings. He gets our obedience, which means more to Him than the warmth of our devotion.” Give God your will, Catholic Pilgrims. That is the best sacrifice you can offer. Have a blessed Sunday.
Last week, when I went into Notre Dame de Paris, it was packed. Packed. However, I was pleasantly surprised by all the ways the staff try to keep some semblance of reverence. There's a voice that comes on that says in a pleasant whisper, "Shhhhhhhhh...silence." And then it says it in different languages. The Adoration area is free of people milling around and no photos are allowed. It's just a place for prayer and adoration. And, even though I was moving with this large throng of people, mostly all you could hear was just the rustling of bodies moving. It was surprisingly quiet. It was the same in Sacre-Coeur. Outside, loud, noisy crowd. Inside, the nuns were singing and it was relativity quiet. I posted a video of the nuns singing in the early morning and someone said, "Yeah, beautiful, except for all the a**hole tourists." I get that people come into our sacred places and don't have the level of reverence that we would want. Many have zero clue that Jesus is truly present. Lots of people are there for social media pictures and care little for our Catholic Faith. I've been annoyed by it all at times. So have you. We all have. So, I get that. But, the comment made me cringe. For one, it's wildly uncharitable and if any non-believer saw it, I would hate the impression it leaves. (I did delete it for that fact. Plus, I don't allow foul language on my page.) I had to shake my head at the irony. Here was this lady mad about tourists who are disrespectful and irreverent, yet, she comes on a video showing nuns singing to Our Lord and uses foul language. While I don't like disrespect in our churches, I know that God can work with people. I saw it in Istanbul. My husband's squadron went on a mini-pilgrimage sponsored by the chaplain and one church we went into dropped people to silence--even atheists. The beauty got to them. So, we have to hope and pray that as people--lukewarm, non-believers, etc--walk around these beautiful churches, the beauty will speak to their souls. We have to pray that they might wonder at the person a statue represents. They might wonder about the story being told on the stained-glass windows. And, as we move through these spaces, Catholic Pilgrims, may we show with our actions how one is to behave and show on our faces that our Faith brings us joy. Make them wonder. Have a blessed day.
Look at the light in this church, Catholic Pilgrims. It's even better in person. To date, there have been three churches that have literally made me gasp out loud when I first saw their beauty. 1. Notre Dame Basilica in Montreal, Canada 2. St. Stephen's Bulgarian Orthodox Church in Istanbul 3. This one. Basilique de Notre Dame de Pontmain in France Several weeks ago, a lady commented on a video I made where it showed a beautiful church in Ireland. "I don't think Jesus had this ornate of a place to worship! This is entirely to fancy." To which I said, "Go read in the Old Testament how God instructed the Israelites to build the tabernacle as they journeyed in the wilderness. And then go read about the Temple." The tabernacle was to be made with acacia wood, which was not expensive. However, it was to be overlaid with gold. Silver was used. Copper was used. Textiles of fine linen were used. Hard to come by dyes. The entire Ark of the Covenant was overlaid with gold. Not to mention two pure-gold statues of Cherubim (gasp! Statues!) were on top. Solomon's Temple was made of massive stones, expensive woods, and gold. There were also two 15-foot carved Cherubim statues inside the Holy of Holies. (Gasp! Statues!) So, what we find are that houses of God were not ramshackle pixie-stick structures crudely put together with mud. God didn't instruct the wandering Hebrew people to build a simple, plain Tabernacle or Ark of the Covenant. God created the world and the natural world is incredible in its beauty. The heavens above our heads are magnificent--all to glorify God and His Majesty. We, as humans, are made in His image and should try to imitate Him in His goodness, and His ability to create beauty. We can't fashion anything out of nothing like He can, but we can take the materials that He as blessed us with and design and build in such a way as to honor Him. Our beautiful Catholic Churches are where we worship our Lord and it is most fitting that they convey through their beauty that the Almighty is present in a very literal sense. Have a blessed day, Catholic Pilgrims.
For most of my life, I've been a "glass half empty" kind of gal. I preferred to "keep it real," not live in a day dream, or be too "pie-in-the-sky." There is nothing wrong with being aware, knowing your history, and understanding the reality of different situations. I'm not an advocate for being insufferably optimistic while your hair is on fire. However, social media has actually changed my "empty glass" mentality. This may shock you because of the dumpster fire that social media can be. Sometimes, I like to post just a nice, encouraging video. I don't want my social media pages to be all apologetics or giving you the latest bad news. I don't want to always dwell on the bad, because that makes people lose hope. Yet, I can make the most positive, hopeful video or post and inevitably someone is going to show up to throw mud at it. When I was in France, I was so encouraged to see all the Catholic Churches and I was happy to see how the country works to maintain their restoration. So, I made a very short video about this and someone said: "Too bad the French Revolution destroyed so much." "Yeah, okay, but can you just enjoy this nice post?" Yes, the French Revolution happened and it was awful and damaging. We are still feeling the effects, but you know what? The Church survived. In fact, the Church has survived every catastrophe: The early persecutions, the Protestant Revolution, French Revolution, and the disastrous Vatican II roll-out. Yes, bad things have happened. We should acknowledge them, learn from, and help repair and restore. But, can we also just be people of hope for half a second? Can we just enjoy a victory? A good moment? A turning of the tide? Or must we always live as if the French Revolution was yesterday? Can we ever move past it and realize that things aren't perfect, but we aren't suffering through that anymore? If your inclination is to see something positive and immediately post a negative comment, then social media has gotten to you for the worst. We must be people of hope, because otherwise we despair and everything becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Be sure to enjoy the beautiful moments, Catholic Pilgrims. Not everything is the worst. Live the faith boldly and travel well.
We are safe and sound in Virginia and made it to our new home on post. Our stuff hasn't arrived yet, so we are doing the inside camping bit where we just spend a lot of time on the floor--sleeping, eating, sitting, podcasting. Mass was at St. Joseph's Catholic Church in Petersburg, I must say, it was the most traditional Novus Ordo Mass I have ever been to and that made me very happy. In his homily, the priest gave the best explanation on why priests take vows of poverty, celibacy, and obedience. He said, "People often ask me, 'Why don't you (Catholic Church) let your priests marry?' Well, we try to live as we will all live in Heaven. There is no money in Heaven and no possessions, we all will be celibate, and our wills will all be aligned to God's Will." Now, some priests do marry in other rites and some priests that come over from the Anglican Church are married. This is a discipline, not a dogma. Priests are trying to live as Christ lived--poor, unmarried, and obedient to the Father. They don't do it perfectly but that is the goal. I thought it was a beautiful explanation and then he said, "For any man who thinks that taking these vows will make them miserable and strip them of freedom, that is simply not true. Whenever you allow God to fill your life, you gain more freedom and find your purpose." That goes for all of us, Catholic Pilgrims, no matter our vocation in life. You gain the most freedom and fulfillment when you surrender your life to God. Live the faith boldly and travel well this Monday.
Throughout all my life, I have struggled with pride. In my late teens and all through my twenties, I thought that I could make the Christian faith what I wanted it to be. Essentially, this meant that it became so easy that it barely factored into my life. Yes, I called myself a Christian, but I thought: That church was optional. Prayer only mattered when I wanted something. Scripture was around for the virtue signal. I wasn't Catholic during those years, so Sacraments mattered nothing to me. I didn't even know there was such a thing as a Sacrament. I lived how I wanted to live, because...well, Jesus loved me and most decent people went to Heaven. Since I was at least decent, I was assured my angel wings. Crazy how I once believed humans became angels upon death. I didn't even understand that we are fundamentally different beings. Anyway... I had no humility. Zero. By the grace of God, I woke up. I'm not perfect at all, but I did realize that our Catholic Faith cannot conform around me. When my pride pulls me to the ways of the world or towards my will, I must resist. Throughout all these years on social media, I have seen the pride that I once had in the comments. There are still so many people who think they can pick and choose what to believe; that they can conform Christianity to their desires and wills. St. Paul talks today about how Jesus emptied Himself and took the form of a slave, not counting equality with God, even though He is God. God humbled Himself to save us and I think we often forget that. When we bow at the mentioning of the Incarnation in the Nicene Creed, we are acknowledging the humility of God, that He would come as one of us. We bow out of respect for counting us worthy of saving in this way. If our God can be so humble, it is imperative that we humble ourselves and submit our will to God and His Church, Catholic Pilgrims. Have a blessed Sunday.
My philosophy class at K-State was not so much a philosophy class as it was a Liberal Ideology 101 class. Most of the time was spent having various liberal groups on campus come in and try to persuade us to their side. It was very irritating, because that was not what I signed up for. It caused the professor and me to not be on friendly terms. He punished me, of course, by giving me bad grades and calling me out in class, but I really didn't care. I was the only one in class that ever spoke up and tried to debate against the messages that we were being force fed. It was a very isolating feeling because it felt like me against the world. Yet, it never failed that after each class, other students would come up to me and thank me for speaking up and they would tell me that they agreed with me. They were just too nervous to speak up. However, if I had to be the only one, though, so be it. I learned through that class that speaking the truth can be scary sometimes. You will be punished. You will be hated. Sometimes it will seem like you are all by yourself on an island. But, there are hordes behind you that just aren't as vocal. Here we are 25 years after 9/11 and, for a short period after, we were so united as a country. Suffering often does that, as crazy as that is. Which is why, I think the forces against this country saw that they needed to get to work right away causing division, because that fateful day made us come together in a way I've never seen in my lifetime. Those opposed to us panicked and set to work immediately to try to break the bond that had been created in Americans that actually love this country. They have succeeded in some ways, because we are fractured. All the noise makes us despair and feel hopeless, like all is lost. Yet, praying about this yesterday, I realized that the loudmouths will always seem like they are winning the day and maybe in some areas they are. But there are, also, sane, solo voices out there and behind them are hordes of sane, loyal, patriotic people who just aren't as vocal. Just like in my philosophy class. The loudmouths will always get more attention and make things seem skewed, just like my class. In honor of those that lost their lives on 9/11, may we live our lives with courage, virtue, honor, intelligence, loyalty and faithfulness. Not all is lost. We will never forget. God bless America.
This was probably the coolest picture that was sent to me for the small-town showcase back in February. It's also probably the most remote church. It doesn't even really sit in a town, from what I can tell. Mt. Carmel Catholic Church is in North Dakota and it sits nearly on the border of the US and Canada. Information is hard to find on this church, but it looks like it was dedicated and completed in 1953. It also looks to be not in use anymore because of structural concerns, though there is a historical society fighting for its preservation. I've never been to North Dakota, but last year I read a book called, "Giants of the Earth" and I gained a new appreciation for the pioneers that settled in the Dakotas. It took a special kind of person to brave that part of the country and try to tame it. I'm not sure I'm that special kind of person. I can handle Kansas winters, but I'm pretty sure I'd wimp out if I was enduring a North Dakota winter. I'd say if you are ever up at the tippity-top of the country stop in, but I don't think that's possible anymore. It's kind of out there and not operational. I do hope that the historical society is able to find a way to preserve this building. It's an important part of our country's history. Have a great day, Catholic Pilgrims, and live the faith boldly and travel well.
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