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It’s a gruesome painting, isn’t it?
I first saw this hanging in Thomas Jefferson’s house and I thought it such a strange painting to have in your home.
The painting symbolizes two things to me.
1. Destruction is what happens when people live for themselves and cannot stand to hear any kind of reprimand.
The thing that pricks the conscience must be exterminated for people who want to remain in their sin.
Herodias could not stand to have John the Baptist tell her that her marriage to Herod was sinful. Because she wanted to live how she wanted to live, she obsessed over ruining his life. The first chance she got, she took it and it was to silence him forever.
Innocence will always be attacked by those that are self-serving and steeped in sin. Why? Because innocence shines a light on their darkness and they don’t want to let it go.
2. This is the reality of a life lived for Christ. Faithful Christians may not suffer the extreme of John the Baptist, but the light of Christ within us will be a problem for those who worship themselves and love their sin.
It’s one thing to sin and hate it, it’s another to sin and love it. When you love it, you seek to destroy anything that tries to remind you of your enslavement to it.
While this isn’t the most uplifting reality about Christianity, it does create a line in the sand. We either live for Christ or we live for the world.
If the world is patting you on the back and leaves you alone, you can be sure that you look more like the world than you do Christ.
So, we must have courage to live like John the Baptist, Catholic Pilgrims.
Live the Faith boldly and travel well this Thursday.
St. John the Baptist, pray for us!
When we were stationed in Turkey, my husband was commander of an air base squadron. The installation was literally on two floors of a hotel and, yes, we even had a commissary and a BX. We were a tight-knit group, as we were confined to a small space and saw each other frequently. I started to notice that when I would go into the club or, any place really, the younger troops would mind their P's and Q's. At first, I thought it was because my presence was like having mom around, but I later realized that when they saw me, they saw an extension of my husband. I knew it wasn't because they saw me as mom, as other older women did not affect the same kind of reaction. This always made me smile, not because I enjoyed the attention, but because it signaled the reality of the oneness of marriage. To see me, is to see my husband and vice versa. The other day, our oldest daughter was speaking to her dad and she said, "I don't know if what you are saying is coming from Momma's thoughts or yours." My husband said, "Well, that's hard to say, because your mom and I are pretty in sync about most things." Though it isn't perfect, I believe marriage is one of the strongest analogies for the Holy Trinity. Again, not perfect, but we can come to understand the Trinity just a bit by looking at a loving marriage. When my husband and I were married, we became one. Two distinct persons, yet still one. Most people will tell you that if you see me, they can't help but also think of Dustin. The same goes for him. The product of our love is our children. Our love created other distinct people and we are all united in the oneness of our family which is held by our marriage. God the Father is Lover, God the Son is the Beloved, and God the Holy Spirit is the Love that unites them. Because God is Love, Love is a person, the Holy Spirit. Three distinct Persons in One. It's a deep mystery and one that we can't fully grasp or comprehend. We will never be able to use human words to fully articulate the mystery of the Holy Trinity. That's because, well, we aren't God. But, these mysteries sure are wonderful things to ponder and be in awe of, Catholic Pilgrims.
Continue ReadingToday, let's head to an island off the coast of South Carolina for our small-town church showcase. This is Stella Maris Catholic Church located on Sullivan's Island, SC. I have cruised past this island twice when I was in Charleston a few Spring Breaks ago: One day on a sailing ship and the next day on a ferry taking me over to Fort Sumter. Sullivan's Island is named after Captain Florence O'Sullivan. He was an Irishman who was granted land on the island to help with the building up of the South Carolina colony. He was a military officer, a surveyor, a colonial official, and he helped establish Charleston. Sullivan's Island was used to protect Charleston from enemy attacks. This parish was founded in 1843 by Bishop Ignatius Reynolds. During the Civil War, this island saw a lot of military action and that affected church life, as you can imagine. The original church was just a small wooden building that no longer exists; this church you see here came about in the late 1800s and has undergone lots of renovations. The inside of the church seems to harken back to its wooden-structure days, as it was built with pine and painted a warm color. We don't know for sure if Captain O'Sullivan was Catholic or not. There are no surviving documents to give clarity. Most historians say that he was "likely Catholic" given his Irish roots, but if he was, he most likely had to keep it quiet. But, there is no definitive way of knowing. I loved my time in Charleston and if you are ever in the area, Catholic Pilgrims, maybe take a trip over to Sullivan's Island to check out Stella Maris Parish. Have a blessed Wednesday!
Continue ReadingI made a video the other day for my other social media accounts of this chapel which is found on the 6th floor of Mercy hospital in Springfield, Missouri. While dog watching for my dad last summer, my son and I went on an expedition in town looking for pretty Catholic Churches and found ourselves in a hospital. I was stunned at the beauty of this chapel and was so happy to know that such a lovely, joyful, peaceful place could be found in a hospital where things can sometimes feel lonely, sorrowful, and anxiety-riddled. The body is not the only thing that needs healing. A man commented on the video and said, "No elaborate chapel in a hospital. Seems to me to be a waste of funds that could help provide better health care." Judas? Are you here? Get your hands off that bottle of nard. Nothing drives me more crazy than when people try to strip away the true, the good, and the beautiful. For some reason, the beautiful is always the first to be axed, all in the name of saving money for some "noble" cause. Leaving aside the absurdity that the amount of money spent on this chapel could somehow provide funds for health care into perpetuity, it boggles my mind when people see something beautiful and conclude that humans don't need it. I hate being in hospitals where white walls disorient like snow blackouts and time and fresh air feel like fever dreams. Imagine shuffling around bare, sterile halls only to stumble upon this beautiful space where you can come and take a break from the worry and the monotony of hospital living. Then imagine stumbling into a bare chapel; just another white space void of any richness and meaning where you are supposed to pray. Yet, it feels no different than the hospital cafeteria. But, hey, at least they saved funds for two hours worth of health care. God creates beautiful things; man is meant to imitate Him. Beauty isn't a negotiable transcendental. We need it. It is not noble to call for the removal of beauty; it is noble to call for more of it to enhance the human experience and help us get in touch with the Divine. Live the Faith boldly and travel well, Catholic Pilgrims.
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