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It's poppy time here in California. "Poppies. Poppies!" (Said like the Wicked Witch of the West) Though, unlike my fellow Kansan, Dorothy, I did not fall asleep amongst the flowers. As you know, (gear up for shameless plug), I am reading St. Augustine's "Confessions" for Season Six of my podcast. The more I read this book, the more I relate to St. Augustine. For much of his early life, he was a Manichee. Manichaeism was started by a man named Mani and it was kind of hodgepodge of various other religions. For a long time, St. Augustine rejected Christianity because, for one, he couldn't conceive of a god that wasn't material in nature. Everything, for him, had to have substance to be real. Anyway, once he comes into contact with St. Ambrose in Milan, things start to change for him as he listens to Ambrose's preaching. He writes: "Nevertheless, I was glad that all this time I had been howling my complaints not against the Catholic Faith but against something quite imaginary which I had thought up in my own head. At the same time I was ashamed of myself, because I had certainly been both rash and impious in speaking out in condemnation of a matter on which I ought to have take pains to be better informed." This was me. Before becoming Catholic, I railed against what I thought Catholicism was and I had never taken the time to look into the matter for myself. I was a prideful, lazy, wanna-be intellectual. If you encounter someone like my former self or the pre-Catholic Augustine, always be sure to ask them what they think the Church teaches, because nine times out of ten, they will get it wrong, imagining only what misconceptions they have been fed. A priest once told me, "You must learn to humble yourself, because if you don't, either God will do it or someone else. It's much easier if you go ahead and do it yourself." No matter which way, thank God for being humbled, Catholic Pilgrims. It's the only way you can come to the truth. Have a blessed Monday.
I will never forget the day when I got my first set of glasses. I was in 3rd grade. As I walked out of the doctor's office, I was thrilled to be able to see the individual leaves on the trees. I'd take my glasses off, see the blurry mass, put them back on and see each one hanging. Oh, it felt incredible. The world seemed open to me again. I wasn't completely blind, like the blind man in our Gospel reading today, but I can somewhat understand what it was like for him to finally receive his vision. With Scripture, there are always layers to peel back and discover. Blindness doesn't always just mean physically not being able to see. I, also, recall the first time I went into a major Catholic Church. It was St. Patrick's in NYC. I was a hard-hearted Protestant and I didn't want to go into the church. Seeing as my husband's whole family is Catholic, they all wanted to go in. There I was in a stunning church and I couldn't see it. I couldn't see the beauty. I couldn't see the goodness. I couldn't see anything. My soul was darkened. I just stood like a grumpy bear in the back, testily waiting for everyone to get done looking around. When I think back to seeing a church that magnificent, I remember feeling a bit awe-struck by something so stunning. However, I didn't want to show it. The Pharisees are no different in our story today. They can't see the goodness in having a blind man healed. They grump and grumble about healing being done on the Sabbath, they wonder about the legitimacy of it all, they harshly question the parents and the man himself. They are blind--spiritually blind. Just as I was. A hard, rigid, joyless heart makes seeing truth, goodness, and beauty--makes seeing God--nearly impossible. Even when those things are right in front of your face. But, if there is even the smallest crack that God can get in through, He will do it and seeds will be planted and one day the casing around your soul of stone falls away and you can truly see. And just like me with my glasses, you are amazed at what you were missing, but are so grateful you finally can see. Have a blessed 4th Sunday of Lent, Catholic Pilgrims.
Today's small town church is St. Joseph's Catholic Church in Somerset, Ohio--the oldest Catholic Church in Ohio. My family has been stationed in Ohio twice. It was our first duty station in 2002-2006 and then again in 2018-2020. The first time we moved there, I was not Catholic, but it is where my middle daughter was baptized Catholic. My heart started to soften there. When my husband and I got orders to Ohio the first time, neither one of us was ecstatic. Ohio seemed pretty normal and not thrilling like some other possible places. But, the Lord knows what He is doing, because it was enough like Kansas to not feel too foreign for me and it was only 10 hours from home. It was in Ohio, that I finally surrendered to the military life and "fixed my face" by changing my attitude. I initially wanted my husband to do his four years and get out. Here we are 24 years later and I'm so glad Dustin stayed in. Our second time being stationed in Ohio, I was Catholic, which meant, I wanted to see all the churches. Goodness, does Ohio have some stunning ones. Just in Dayton alone, there are plenty of Catholic Churches to keep you busy. At St. Joseph's in Dayton, there are my favorite stained-glass windows of the archangels over the altar. Cincinnati, also, has so many beauties. I went on my first silent retreat near Cincinnati at Our Lady of the Holy Spirit Center. One of my all time favorite churches in the US is in Cincinnati at Old St. Mary's. There is also the Maria Stein Shrine which houses the second largest collection of holy relics in the US located in Maria Stein, Ohio. I have not been to our featured church, but, of course, now I must see it someday. It was founded in 1818 by German Catholics, which were led by Dominicans. This church was completed in 1848. I believe their pastor today is still from the Dominican order. It sits outside of Somerset, just out in the country, looking very serene and peaceful. So, if ever cutting across Ohio on I70, and you have time, take a detour and see this quaint country church. Live the faith boldly and travel well, Catholic Pilgrims.
When my one friend became an atheist, she brought the question of evil to me to try to persuade me away from God. And what she brought was a conversation out of the book "The Brothers Karamazov." It was a short video clip of a conversation between the middle brother, Ivan, and his younger brother, Alyosha. It all centered on the problem of evil. Ivan wasn't necessarily an atheist, he just rejected God's invitation to relationship because of the problem of evil. I think my friend forgot that this was exactly why I turned my back on God at 17. God had allowed evil to happen to me and I rejected a relationship with HIm. She thought this was a slam-dunk argument against God and while it is the strongest one that non-believers have, I asked her, "Okay, so you think that the problem of evil proves that there is no God. Okay, now what? Now that you've removed God you still have the problem of evil. I genuinely want to know, now what?" I never really got an answer. When she showed me that video, I hadn't read the book yet. I'm reading it now for Lent with Hallow, so I understand a lot more of what is going on. Today, for Pray40, Sister Miriam says, "God is not asking you and I to approve of suffering. He is not asking us to make peace with evil. God is not calling us to understand everything. He is not calling us to grasp an intellectual explanation." "And this is where Ivan stumbles. It is his job, he thinks, to decide what is right and what it wrong. And in his pride, he sets himself up ahead of God." This is what I did. I thought it was my job to fix everything and everyone, including myself. I simply could not do that and neither can you. No human can. And because I couldn't enact justice as I saw fit, I became bitter and resentful. Just like Ivan. Without God, there can be no redemption, no healing after evil has been inflicted, no true peace. It doesn't always make sense and I certainly don't have the whole picture and that's because I'm not God. Surrendering to God and trusting in Him is the only way, Catholic Pilgrims. The other way brings nothing but more misery. Have a blessed Monday.
A couple of days ago late in the afternoon, I made a really simple quick video to put up on a couple of my social media pages. It was a video of my family's "Indiana Jones" day in Turkey. We had a friend there, a fellow Catholic, that took us around to see old lost churches. You can see my son standing in some of the ruins here in this picture. Anyway, the coolest one he took us to was a hidden church IN THE GROUND out in a field. The steps down into it were covered in weeds and we had to clear all that out to be able to walk down the steps. That day was one of my favorite days ever. So, I made this quick video, posted it, and went about my day. When I woke up the next morning, I found that thousands and thousands of people on Instagram had interacted with it. Usually on Instagram, my videos are all duds, so I was shocked. But, ohhhhhhh, let me tell you, the interactions were, for the most part, awful. Basically, the Greeks, Turks, and Armenians went to war in the video's comments. I mean, just saying the most vile things. Protestants came after me and called me a pagan and a cult member. Orthodox people came after me. One man called me a liar and told me that it was nothing but a cistern. When I explained the reality to him, he demanded coordinates so that he could go see it. Um....no. Another guy asked me why I don't hate Turkey, the country. There were a few sane people who could just enjoy the coolness of the video and leave it at that, but the wide majority of people were just insanely awful. It just broke my heart to see such retched ugliness all from a video that was from one of my most memorable days. But, it was getting me lots of followers, which I never get on Instagram, so for half a second, I was like, "Hey, this is good!" Quickly, though, that thought left my head. I knew I had to shut the comments and the ability to share off, so that such vileness wasn't found on my page. Hatred is a bitter, bitter poison, Catholic Pilgrims. Live in the light and love of Christ. PS. I am well versed on why the countries over there don't like each other. I had to learn all about it when I was there. I don't want to hear about here, so please don't start another word war on this page.
As I was preparing to teach OCIA this past Sunday, I had a list of things I wanted to go over. It had dawned on me a few weeks ago that most people outside the Catholic Church believe that everything we do as Catholics is taught dogmatically. This leads to a ton of grave errors in how people think about Catholicism. So, I decided to talk to the class about four D's: Dogma, Doctrine, Disciplines, and Devotions. Dogmas are a very narrow subset of doctrine. They are the beliefs that are divinely revealed and cannot be changed. Everything stated in the Apostles' Creed is a dogma and to be a Christian, you need to believe in those things. They aren't optional. Doctrine is all the Church's teachings on faith and morals. Doctrines do not change, but our understanding of the teachings can grow and become more detailed. Belief in The Blessed Trinity is a Dogma. The Church's teaching on the Blessed Trinity is doctrine. The doctrine--teaching--doesn't change, meaning, it doesn't flip-flop. But over time, the Church's understanding of it has grown and become more full. Discipline is defined as an "instruction, system of teaching or of law, given under the authority of the Church [which] can be changed with the approval of proper authority, as opposed to doctrine, which is unchangeable” (334). Priests not marrying is a discipline, not a dogma. Devotions are those practices allowed by the Church that are more personal to the individual. Praying the Rosary is a devotion. Wearing a veil at Mass is a devotion. Praying evening Vespers is a devotion. As long as the Church has approved a devotion or allows for it, it is okay to practice. Devotions are not dogmatic and people are free to practice them or not. I've had people say to me, "The Catholic Church teaches that to be saved you have to pray the Rosary." No, that is not true. "To be saved you must pray the Rosary" is not a teaching of the Catholic Church. It is a devotion--a very strongly encouraged devotion and a fruitful one at that, but there is no dogmatic belief that praying the Rosary is how you are saved. I hope this is helpful and clear, Catholic Pilgrims. I found it helpful for myself to get a better understanding of it, so I can speak intelligently about our beautiful Catholic Faith. Have a blessed Wednesday.
For Lent, I'm doing the Pray40 challenge on the Hallow app. The whole theme is all about "The Return." We are following the story of "The Brothers Karamazov" and its relation to the parable of The Prodigal Son. On Sundays, we listen to Father Mike Schmitz' homily. This past Sunday, Fr. Mike said something that I'd like to highlight. Talking about how Prince Harry named his book "Spare," Fr. Mike said, "He wrote an autobiography, and the title of this autobiography is named after his wound." That wound being that he is nothing but the spare in the family. "He's just the back-up plan to the one that matters." For so many of us, it is our wound that becomes our identity. It is the story of our life. We are the wound, the wound defines us, the wound is why we are the way we are. Whenever your wound is your entire identity, resentment spreads its tentacles around your heart and you slowly start to die. Maybe not a literally death, but life, joy, energy, gratitude, and peace are all snuffed out. Today in my audio listening, Sister Miriam said, "We believe that our brokenness is somehow our fate or our identity. The enemy whispers to us, this is just who you are." This is why--and I know from experience--that so many people can't let go of their wound and let God heal it. It has become our identity. "I'm an abused person. I'm an addict. I'm unloved. I'm a failure. I'm awkward and weird and nobody likes me." We believe that if we lose this identity, we will be nothing. We will lose the label. We will lose the pity. We will lose the excuse for why our life has turned out like it has. It's just not true that we are our wound. And the minute that we decide that we don't want to be our wound anymore and hand that brokenness over to God, we will not be left with a bottomless pit. God can rush in and begin to fill us with His life and love. When He does that, we will begin to see that our identity is found in Him--we are a child of God and He loves us with an intensity that we fully don't understand. Lent is the perfect time to stop identifying yourself by your wound(s). You are God's beloved, Catholic Pilgrims.
This week's small town church comes to us from Chewelah, Washington--St. Mary of the Rosary. I've never been to the state of Washington, so that's all I have to say. Just kidding, just kidding. It's true that I haven't ever been to Washington, but I do have more to say. While I haven't laid a toe in the state, my better half once lived there as a teenager. His step-dad was stationed in Steilacoom, Washington and they lived there for about 2 1/2 years. I know it was rainy and my husband loved running in the drizzly rain and it was very green. And that's because Steilacoom is on the west side of the Cascade Mountains. Chewelah is on the eastern side, which I'm told is NOT the lush side. Side Note: For some weird reason, people from Kansas like to add an r into the words Washington and wash. Pretty much my whole family says "Warshington" or "Warsh." Why? I have no clue. I have been broken of the habit since living away, but if I'm home too long, that R sometimes resurfaces. Last week, we looked at a church in Alabama which is part of the area known as the Bible Belt. Interestingly enough, Washington state is part of an area called the "Unchurched Belt," with church attendance across the board being low. Catholics make up 14%-17% of the population. What's interesting is that this parish started out as a missionary parish founded by the Jesuits. What a lot of people don't know, is that missionaries, like the Jesuits, used to move into an area that was kind of uncharted territory and lay the groundwork. Once the population of an area became big enough to support a diocese, the missionaries would relinquish the parish(es) they founded to the diocese. That's what happened here. The Jesuits moved in, founded this parish in 1885 and handed it over to the Diocese of Spokane in 1916 and it's been holding down the fort ever since. 🙂 So, I hope you enjoy this copper-roofed church from Chewelah, WA, Catholic Pilgrims, and happy Monday! Side Note 2: While my husband enjoyed living in Washington, he's not too happy with the Seahawks for beating his Niners in the playoffs. So, his relationship with the state right now is bittersweet. lol.
Throughout my life, I have been admonished by numerous people for something I was doing wrong--by parents, siblings, my spouse, my kids, friends, priests. Initially, my reaction can be to bristle at their admonishment, to get defensive or try to justify my actions. Long, long ago, my baby sister, even when she was still a kid, admonished me over something and I dismissed her. I explained my sin away to her by saying that someday she'll understand why it's so important for me to commit this sin. Can you imagine? Lord, have mercy on us. Anyway, years later, I realized that God was trying to get through to me through my sister. He tries to get through to a lot of us by putting people in our lives that help to correct us and challenge us to be better than our current state. Last night at my Bible study, we were listening to our daily Lenten message and the priest said something that really connects to this. He said, "Jesus doesn't want us to just be wrong. He wants us to be aware of what we can change, so that we can be better." --Father Columba Jordan. So that we can be more like Him. Jesus doesn't want to point out our sins and vices to make us feel bad about ourselves. He doesn't want us to just be wrong. He wants to show us another way and we can only be shown that way if we become aware of where we are missing the mark. The word "sin" stems from Greek and Latin words that mean to miss the mark. My sister wasn't interested in just pointing out I was wrong. She thought my behavior was unbecoming of who I really am supposed to be and she was trying to help me. We have a lot of people in our lives, Catholic Pilgrims, trying to help us hit the mark. Don't dismiss them or brush them away because you can't stand to face yourself. Live the Faith boldly and travel well this Thursday.
Think of the most annoying person you've ever known. Got them in your head? Good. I've had numerous annoying people come into my life, as I'm sure you have, too. (I hope I'm not the person that pops into someone's head as their most annoying person. 🤔) In my younger years, when I was barely living my faith, I struggled to be good to anyone that annoyed me. Our first duty station was Wright-Patterson AFB. When we got there, I was anxious to work, so I tried everything--I subbed, I worked for some high-powered defense attorneys, and then I worked for base legal. My first day on the job, I met the lady I would be working with the most. We'll call her Lexi. Not only did I quickly discover that my job was utterly unnecessary and boring, but Lexi was quite possibly the most miserable person I'd ever met. She hated her job. I could see why: A lot of government jobs are so void of any real purpose that it makes the worker feel worthless. Because there was so little for her to do, she got used to just sitting at her computer doing nothing. So, even when people would come in to get help, she despised them. They made her get up and do something. The inertia of her life was such that she just wanted to stay put and stew. She was rude to me. Rude to customers. Rude to the lawyers. Everyone was stupid in her eyes. If I tried to do any kind of work or be happy towards customers, she would snap at me. Now, normally, I would have given her a piece of my mind, but for some reason, with her, I found the ability to not let all her snide remarks and laziness negatively affect me. I didn't consciously decide to love her, but I just found myself doing it. Each day I would come in and talk to her, ask her questions about herself. I found out that she loved to cook and we had a common interest in music. One day, she brought me food and it was delicious and I told her so. She started listening to the radio and we'd sing along to songs together when there was no one to help. Even though she was still pretty sassy, I saw her start to be more energetic, fun, and positive. Underneath all her prickles, she was a good woman. By the time I left to go get my Masters, Lexi and I had a pretty decent relationship and she was much more enjoyable to be around. I told my son last night, "People will come into your life that you don't like very much. Oftentimes, they are the ones that help work out our sanctification because they really challenge us to live out the virtues. If you can find a way to love annoying people well, you just may change their lives for the better." Find a way, Catholic Pilgrims, to love your annoying people well. P.S. You'll need grace and lots of it. 🙂
When I say Alabama, you may say: Football (SEC 👎) Bible Belt Forrest Gump Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Sweet Home Alabama" (There you go, it's in your head now. You're welcome.) What you won't probably think about is Catholicism. I know I sure didn't think that when my family was stationed there for 10 months a few years back. But, if I learned anything living in Turkey, sometimes when you are outnumbered, your faith gets stronger. Catholics in Alabama are some devoted folks. Our small-town chapel this week is Sacred Heart Church in Clear Point, Alabama. It sits right on Mobile Bay and is a popular venue for weddings because of its charm and quaintness. It's, also, packed during the busy season, so get there early all you late-coming Catholics. Yes, I'm looking at all of you. It's not far from Mobile, which is a city my family thoroughly enjoyed visiting when we lived in Montgomery. Side note: You Gulf people have some strange food habits. This Kansanite (my word for a person from Kansas) wasn't too keen on ripping the heads off of the river bugs, sorry, crawfish. I know you love to suck the brains out after decapitation, but I'm gonna have to stick with the cows, chickens and pigs. lol. 😉 However, if you are ever sticking your feet in the Gulf Shores in Alabama, check out the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception in Mobile. But, also, take some time to visit Sacred Heart Church and be thankful to the French that got our Catholic Faith kick-started off in Alabama all the way back in 1703. Merci! Live the Faith boldly and travel well, Catholic Pilgrims.
Early on in my marriage, when I still had major anger issues, my husband would kindly ask me to work on my anger. Of course, I would become super angry and get defensive and yell, "This is just who I am, okay!" It was so selfish of me to not want to work on myself. I wanted to believe that my faults and failings were just something that happened to me. I couldn't help it, you see? Sure, there were reasons that led to me having a deep-seated anger within me, but it was always my choice to allow it to take over or not. I just didn't want to admit that. Instead, I wanted to believe that God had just made me this way--angry, selfish, and impatient. In effect, I was telling my husband, "Welp, sorry pal, you get what you get." These are the lies we tell ourselves to protect our egos. We want to believe that everything is out of our control because then we don't have to take responsibility and ...AND...we don't have to put in effort to work on ourselves. God did not make us to be filled with vices, bad habits and sinful behaviors. The potential we have in God's plan for our soul is beyond our imagination. With His grace we can become who He created us to be. Lent is the perfect time to finally be honest with ourselves. We are angry, jealous, lazy, irritable, rude, ungrateful, prideful, impatient, distracted, etc, because we allow ourselves to be. Not because we were made that way and not because we have no control. At some point, for love of my husband, I realized that I was a horrible wife for telling him that I wasn't going to change for the better. I got honest with myself and asked for God's help. I'm not that same person anymore. Resorting to anger was a habit of mine, so I will tend towards it when upset, but I do realize now that I have the ability to control it with prayer and awareness. It is something that I will always have to work on, but it is easier now to work on it. Excuses never allow us to grow, Catholic Pilgrims. Be brave enough to face yourself. Live the Faith boldly and travel well this Monday.
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