I saw a video the other day of an atheist trying to show that God is super mean. He said, "Imagine if I said to my wife, 'If you don't love me, I'll throw you in a place of burning fire.' That's what God is like." When you come at Christianity like this, your ignorance will, sadly, make you look very foolish. I'd like to help this guy out and show him what really happens. Not that I like to imagine this, but let's say one day my husband came to me and said, "Amy, I don't love you anymore. I want nothing to do with you." I have two choices: 1. I can cling desperately and try to force my husband to change his mind. OR 2. I can let him go and allow him to leave and be separated from me. I might be inclined to try the first option, because I don't want him to leave. If I let him go, then he walks away from all the goodness we had as a couple. He walks away from my love, my care, our life together--everything. The pain of leaving all that behind would be like Hell--cold, lonely, dark, painful. But, in this life, between two humans, Dustin would still be able to experience some goodness. He'd still get to enjoy our children and possibly some of the fruits of our marriage. With God, though, at the moment of your death, if you have chosen to reject Him, He respects that. He respects that you have decided you want nothing to do with Him--nothing at all. And because you don't want anything to do with Him, you are removed from all goodness, all love, all happiness--everything. Every good thing comes from God and, if you decide in eternity that you don't want Him--you don't get to any longer enjoy anything that comes from Him. That's Hell. I like Dante's idea of Hell as a place of coldness and darkness. Cold is the absence of heat; dark is the absence of light. Heat and light are of God and, therefore, it makes sense that Hell would possess neither. To the atheist, Hell is your choice. God respects your desire to not be with Him. If my husband decided to leave me, the pain inflicted would be of his doing--not mine. Let us everyday choose God, who is all good and deserving of all our love, Catholic Pilgrims. Have a blessed Monday.
Continue ReadingToday, in our Gospel reading from John, Jesus tells us to love one another. We hear the phrase "love one another" pretty often, but what does loving others actually mean? It means: Praying for them. Helping them grow and use their God-given talents. Being a support in good and bad times. Not lying to them about anything, even if the truth is painful. Not lying about them. Desiring that they find their way to God and, ultimately, to Heaven. Admonishing them in charity when they are sinning. You are not loving anybody if you watch them sink themselves in sin. Visiting them. Listening to them. Being generous with your time and treasure. Sharing the Gospel with them. Taking correction from those who genuinely care. Honoring people's dignity, especially the vulnerable and innocent. Forgiving. Above all, willing their good, even when they can't see the good themselves. Have a blessed Fifth Sunday of Easter, Catholic Pilgrims. *Mission San Diego
Continue ReadingFor most of my life, my grandparents had a big garden. Whenever we would go and visit in the summer time, we always had to take a garden tour and see what my grandpa was growing. My grandparents lived in a tiny Kansas town and these were the kind of things you did when you visited: Tour the garden, go for a drive, have tea on the patio, check out my grandma’s flowers, and feast on delicious food. Simple things that mean even more now that I’m older. My grandparents are gone now, but they left their mark. The past several years, my siblings, my mom and I share pictures of our gardens. We all live in different environments, but the need to garden is basically ingrained in us because of my grandparents. My sister, who would probably admit, never had an ounce of interest in gardening for most of her life, now has a thriving garden. My brother has found a way to make it work in Colorado with raised beds. My mom recently moved and now has space for a huge garden that rivals my grandparent’s. And me, well, I’m limping along out here in the desert, though I do have an indoor hydroponic garden that gives me herbs. 😂 Today is St. Isidore’s feast day, patron saint of farmers. Reading about him today made me think of my grandparents and the way they passed on their love of tending the earth to so many of their grandkids and my mom. There’s something about being good stewards of the land and growing your own food that grounds you. Pun intended. The most beautiful thing to me, though, is that my grandparents live on through us as we garden and try to imitate them. Have a blessed Thursday, Catholic Pilgrims. St. Isidore, pray for us!
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