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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!
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.
Continue ReadingMy 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.
Continue ReadingThis 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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