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Yesterday, I had a back and forth with a woman on a post from The Feast of the Holy Rosary last October. In the post, I was talking about how all the Rosary prayers are centered on words from the Bible, are prayers to God, and prayers asking Mary to pray for us. Anyway, a woman showed up and just said, "Nope." To which I responded, "Yep." I love it when people show up to play the one word game. Anyway, she went on to post, "Romans 10:9." This is a verse that has absolutely nothing to do with my post on the prayers of the Rosary. Nothing. It's a verse that Protestants often use to try to prove their "faith alone" doctrine. I only gave her three verses back from Matthew 7:21-23 to show her that you can't cherry pick otherwise you create stumbling blocks for yourself. She ignored all that and sent a slew of other verses and told me that she "knows her name is written in the Lamb's book of life. No stumbling blocks there." I don't get into verse wars with Protestants because they have no authority to tell me what Scripture means and none of them agree, so it's just utterly pointless. I appeal to the Catholic Church for guidance, because it is the Church that gave us the Canon of Scripture. I told her as much and, also, that nothing of what she's written speaks to the original post on prayers. She then went on to sing the praises of having left our cult! Praise God! Her parents, too! She doesn't need a religion! No religion saved anybody! I responded with "Okay, well, have a nice day." The sin of presumption is so ungrateful. I know, because when I was Protestant, I used to presume that just because I called Jesus, "My Lord and Savior," that I was good to go. The label of Christian saved me from Hell. This led to a lukewarm attitude in my soul. I didn't go to church, I didn't read the Bible, I didn't pray, I didn't do anything at all. Certainly, not all Protestants have this reaction, but it is still dangerous. Our salvation is not a one moment event in time when we "confess that Jesus is Lord." For Catholics, salvation is a continually ongoing cooperation with God's grace and a surrender to His will for the rest of our earthly life. I presume nothing, but instead, hope and trust in all the helps God gives us to humbly make my way to Heaven. Have a blessed Tuesday of Holy Week, Catholic Pilgrims.
When something bad happens to us, we can become full of anger, fear, self-pity, bitterness and many other negative things. It's not that we should feel flippantly indifferent to what has happened and slap on a happy face and pretend nothing happened. But, most often, we become full of these negative emotions. Sometimes, it's not even that something really bad has happened to us, but that we just aren't pleased with how our life is going. All this does is paralyze us, keeps us stagnant or, worse, causes us to spiral down into utter despair. With Hallow, we've been praying a simple prayer from Mother Olga of the Sacred Heart. The first part of the prayer is... Lord, empty me. Empty me of hatred and bitterness, of selfishness and laziness, of rage and revenge, of fear and my own will. We need to be emptied of all these things before God can move into the space of our soul and do the good work that only He can do. It can be a bit scary to be left bare without all the negative things that we've used to cope, but if we trust in God, He will not leave us bare and empty. During this Holy Week, Catholic Pilgrims, let us pray to be emptied of all that holds us back from shining brightly. Have a blessed Monday of Holy Week.
Honor is one of the four false idols that Thomas Aquinas writes about in the Summa. Honor isn't bad in and of itself. It is good to give honor to people that deserve it. But, when we want it to prop up our ego, then it becomes a dangerous thing. Many years ago, when I was substitute teaching, I asked the high schoolers that I was teaching what they wanted to be someday. Nearly all of them said, "Famous." Some wanted to be famous athletes, some actors, and some didn't know what they wanted to be famous for, all they knew is that they wanted to be famous. What is it about honor and fame? Well, it makes us feel like we've achieved something. We just might make it in the history books and our name will live on forever. A great fear for many of us is that we will leave this world and be forgotten in an instant. What will it all have meant if that is the case? If we can be famous and honored, we think we have actually achieved something worthwhile. Up until today, Jesus hasn't wanted too much notoriety. He's performed miracles and told people not to tell. Some miracles He's performed for just a small crowd. He's carefully drawing attention to Himself, but not too much. Then, with the raising of Lazarus, the cat is out of the bag. Word is going to spread and spread fast and this is a miracle where Jesus doesn't say "keep it on the down low." Because now is His time. This leads to the honor and praise He receives on Palm Sunday. Jesus doesn't need it, but He allows it so that prophecies can be fulfilled. Eventually, in time, people will connect the dots and realize just Who He is exactly. Jesus doesn't need the honor, but He deserves it more than anyone. Here on Palm Sunday, the crowd rightly gives praise and honor to the King of Kings. They might not fully realize the magnitude of Who He is, but they still recognize that He is worthy of honor. May we always seek to do good so that God might be honored and praised through our actions, not in order to satisfy our own selfish wants, Catholic Pilgrims. It is He who should receive all honor and glory. Have a blessed Palm Sunday.
I find it hard to believe that Lent is nearly over. This year it has flown by for me. Here we are almost at April and it feels like we just celebrated Christmas a few weeks back. Things that I learned over this Lent. 1. Our base priest had to leave for the entire Lenten season for training and so we haven't had Daily Mass on base. I have felt that loss intensely and I'm very much looking forward to our priest being back. What an unfortunate time for Daily Mass to be taken away. I live in the middle of nowhere on a base in the desert and this made it feel even more stripped down and desert-y. But, it has made my soul yearn even more for Christ. 2. I learned something about myself with regards to exercise. I've been trying to exercise every day for Lent. Before Covid, I had been working out for years in the gym. That's where I like to be. But, gyms were shut down and I lost my habit which was a bit jarring. Then, we moved to Turkey and exercise, other than walking, is not really a part of their culture, so I still struggled to get my habit back. Once we moved back to the States, my son was at the age where he was too old for child care at any gym, but too young to be out in the gym, so that didn't work. I've been trying ever since to get that habit back, but I always just feel frustrated. Finally, I realized that I've been trying to go back to how I worked out in my early 20s. My expectation has been that I have to go back to intense workouts, but I don't have that desire. So, I changed my expectations for a late 40s woman and that has made a huge difference. All this to say, sometimes to make things work--praying, working out, reading, etc., we need to reevaluate and change things up if our stage of life calls for it. 3. Fasting is the craziest thing: I can avoid certain foods if I don't think about them, but the second I start avoiding it for fasting purposes, well, then it's all I want. Lol. We are headed into my favorite week of the year--Holy Week. I pray you stay strong with your Lenten observances. Have a blessed Friday, Catholic Pilgrims. *Picture was taken by my sister, Beth, outside the Cathedral in Santa Fe.
When I was in my late teens, all the way into my early 30s, I loved to verbally fight. I loved the adrenaline rush, the confrontation, the back and forth, the chance to land a verbal blow, and, most of all, I loved the feeling of being victorious, no matter the cost. I honestly didn't know how to engage in healthy debate. Debate is good. It flushes out ideas, weighs insights, and, if it's authentic, its goal should be to find the truth. I didn't understand any of this. All I wanted was an opponent to embarrass and figuratively destroy. I believed the winner would be the loudest, the most crass, the most aggressive, and the most belittling. Thank God, for the grace to not desire that way anymore. That intense, ugly energy has been spent and I think it's because I finally saw myself in other people online. For years now, I've watched loads of people act in the same way I used to act. It now causes me to cringe. I still love a good debate, I'm still a bit sarcastic, I still feel compelled to correct wrong beliefs. Those things haven't gone away. Last Thursday when I was visiting the Cathedral in Santa Fe, I looked up over the door into the church and saw what you see in this picture. The church was founded by Franciscans and what you see are the words that Jesus said to St. Francis of Assisi--"Rebuild my Church." Initially, St. Francis took that very literally and started rebuilding a dilapidated church, but God meant it somewhat differently, a spiritual rebuilding. We will rebuild, or rather reform, nothing with overly aggressive, crass, and ugly language. All you will do is break people's spirits and push them away. "You might win the argument but lose the soul." Venerable Fulton Sheen If we are joyless, rigid, and angry, Catholic Pilgrims, when we speak of the Catholic Church, who on earth do we think we are going to draw in? None, if any. So, be sure to live the faith boldly and travel well this Tuesday.
I've taken dozens of photos of me in front of church remains over the years. I didn't even know I was going to run into this old Spanish church on a hike in Pecos National Historic Park this past week. But, I was very excited when I saw it along the trail. What a find for a pilgrim! At one point, I'd see these old remains and feel deep grief over what has been lost. To be sure, I'd love it if all the Catholic Churches that now lay in ruins were still with us in good condition. This church would have been amazing. People get sad over this and understandably so. A once great church has gone out of use. It's not something to be thrilled about, that's for sure. But, it doesn't depress me like it once did and I'll tell you why. Catholics fret pretty consistently about the state of things in the Church. "Crisis is everywhere!" they yell. While we should always been working for reform and we shouldn't stick our heads in the sand, I have come to see that the Holy Spirit will not let Christ's Church fall. Since the beginning, the Church has had to deal with one crisis after another. Persecution--Heresies--Scandal--Corruption None of these things are good by any stretch of the imagination and, yet, here we are some two thousand years later. Buildings will come and go within the Church, that's just the way of things. Bad people will come and go, because you can't escape sinners in this life. But, good people and good works will always come in to build up where others have torn down. Saints will be born in each age and rise up to handle things with their gifts, in their way with the help of God's grace. I'm also reminded that material things in this life are temporary, they are not meant for forever. But, the Body of Christ--that invisible, supernatural reality--is forever. So, when I visit these churches that seem lost to time, I thank God for the Catholics that built them, sustained the faith, and passed it on so that I might have it, too. That was their time...and this is my time and your time. The material things we build will fall and crumble someday, but the Faith we pass on will keep the Church alive and that is what matters most. Live the Faith boldly and travel well this Monday.
When your ancestry proves you out to be a European mutt, I think there's generally one part of your ancestry that speaks to you more than the others. For me, it's my Irish blood. I'm at least a quarter Irish, so I guess maybe that counts for something. Or not. I can't hold an Irish accent for more than half a second. Lol. St. Patrick wasn't Irish by birth, he was British. I have that in me, too...obviously. When I got my DNA percentage breakout my sister said, "Girl, you're white." No, kidding. You think so? 😅 Anyway, back to St. Patrick. So, we all know his story: Kidnapped as a teenager, taken over to Ireland, forced into slave labor, finds God, escapes, goes back home, becomes a priest, and decides to go back to Ireland to convert the Irish to Christianity. That takes guts and I admire Bishop Patrick for it. To go back to the people that enslaved you and will their good, well, that's real love. That's the type of love that can only come from Christianity because it was Jesus that taught the radical idea of loving your enemies. There is goodness to be sure in loving those that are entrusted to you care and are easy to love. It is quite another thing to love those who hate you. We all find this difficult to do and people are lying if they say it's easy. It's not. It can only happen by tapping into God's grace, because without that grace, our nature says, "Leave them and let them rot." To be sure, some enemies will reject any love you try to give them and so we must pray for them behind the scenes. We must, as St. Maria Goretti taught me, hope that they find their way to Heaven and that God finds a way to pierce their soul. We all want a better world, one filled with peace and love, yet all of us struggle with wanting to add more love into the equation, especially when it's hard. St. Patrick made Ireland better by giving Christ to the people; he loved them enough to give them the gift of Christ's love. He didn't have to, but he went back and made the place and many of the people better than how he found it. That's a good legacy to leave, Catholic Pilgrims. St. Patrick, pray for us!
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.
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