Hope you had a blessed weekend! 🙏😊
Time for another Catholic Meme Monday.
That’s all I have this week. Stay alert for next week’s Catholic Meme Monday. Receive updates straight to your email inbox by subscribing to The Simple Catholic blog.
The Italian mystic St. Paul of the Cross boldly said, “Be as eager to break your own will as the thirsty stag is to drink of the refreshing waters.” I emphasized the phrase break your own will as that imaginary stood out as quite audacious. To break the will seems such a violent thing to do to yourself.
After researching a bit on this saint, I learned that Paul was the founder of the Passionists a religious order dedicated to a penitential life in solitude and poverty. Since Paul of the Cross lived in isolation from the world do his words hold any meaning for a regular, ‘normal’ people who hold down jobs, have a family? Should not “super-holiness” be reserved for priests and nuns?
According to the Catechism of the Catholic Church paragraph 2013, “All Christians in any state or walk of life are called to the fullness of Christian life and to the perfection of charity.”65 All are called to holiness: “Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”
We are coming up on the perfect season to increase our holiness— Lent! The Lenten season is modeled after Jesus’ 40-day time in the wilderness. Because Jesus is God, he was able to stave off the allures of the Devil. His witness showed that both praying and fasting disable the weaponry of the Evil One. The practice of self-denial is absolutely essential in growing in virtue! Saying YES to God through prayer allows us to say NO to those unhealthy pleasures of the world—through the practice of fasting.
struggle mightily with the pressures of the world, and those self-imposed. Anger, resentment, and impatience come as a result of succumbing to the things of this world. Self-reflection and renewing a practice for saying YES to pray helps begin a habit of saying NO to: impatience, pride, greed, envy, power-control, etc.
Saint Francis de Sales affirms the message of Paul of the Cross, the Catechism and Christ by stating, “The more one mortifies his natural inclinations, the more he renders himself capable of receiving divine inspirations and of progressing in virtue.” Be fast to practice fasting. If you struggle at first remember to say YES to God (pray!) in order to say NO to yourself.
According to Romans 8:28, “We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.” It is no coincidence that the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul, traditionally occurs a week after the Feast of the Chair of St. Peter. Throughout Church history the reformed murderer and the simple fisherman frequently are portrayed in art and sacred liturgy together as exemplars for Christians to follow.
In fact, Peter and Paul share a feast day together on June 29th. The celebration of Paul’s conversion marks the conclusion of the Octave (Week) of Prayer for Christian Unity — a feast of international Christian ecumenical observance that began in 1908.
While celebrating a saint as legendary as the Apostle of the Gentiles may appear out of touch with the ordinary lay person, that cannot be further from the truth. Recalling the great witness of conversion of Saul to Paul provides great hope and a remedy for the division that the Enemy sows in this world.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church refers to the Sacrament of Confession as the sacrament of conversion because “It is called the sacrament of conversion because it makes sacramentally present Jesus’ call to conversion, the first step in returning to the Father from whom one has strayed by sin,” (CCC 1423).
No matter the stage, circumstance, or mindset a person is at in life transformation is possible. St. John Paul the Great talked about conversion in Dives In Misericordia, “Conversion is the most concrete expression of the working of love and of the presence of mercy in the human world” (no. 6).
The colloquial phrase ‘knocked off your high horse’ certainly calls to mind strong image of Saul falling off (perhaps a horse!) after witnessing a blinding light in Acts 22:6-7. Vatican II reminded the world that all the faithful are called to holiness. The Council Fathers put it this way in Lumen Gentium,
“Fortified by so many and such powerful means of salvation, all the faithful, whatever their condition or state, are called by the Lord, each in his own way, to that perfect holiness whereby the Father Himself is perfect.”
Despite our failures, the first step in our relationship with God is conversion. St. Paul is a perfect example that shows that even the worst sinners can convert.
Along with that initial conversion, Saul encountered a brief period of blindness. Acts 22:11 details that Saul had to be led by hand to the city of Damascus by his traveling partners.
While I have never experienced blindness myself and cannot speak about any physical pain involved, I can provide experience as a newbie or novice in a work situation or as a new parent where it felt like I had to have my ‘hands held’ until I could grasp a better understanding of my situation. As the premier Jewish leader in rounding up the ‘blasphemous’ early followers of Christ, Saul probably heard frequent praise and had a strong ego. Lowering or limiting oneself to relying on others may not be physically painful, but it definitely hurts the ego!
True growth cannot happen without at least some painful transformation. The Catholic Church teaches that while conversion is a good first step in order for effective change to take place, penance needs to occur. According to the Catechism,
Conversion is accomplished in daily life by the following:
Taking up one’s cross each day and following Jesus is the surest way of penance. (CCC 1430).
The pandemic along with negative coverage national politics provide ample opportunities for despair to seep into our lives. The Enemy’s most sinister weapon to prevent a relationship with Jesus Christ is the voice of despair.
What is the antidote to such a spiritual attack? St. Paul provides the answer in 2 Corinthians 1:10—hope in Jesus Christ. The saint writes, “He rescued us from such great danger of death, and he will continue to rescue us; in him we have put our hope [that] he will also rescue us again” Hope dispels despair.
Whatever trial or tribulation hits you, large or small, the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul is a great reminder that hope exists even in the seemingly impossible situations. As a killer of Christians, and even of St. Stephen, Paul’s story of transformation reminds us of all that good can still come out of the most sinister of events. Hope exists for humanity, and I am grateful for this feast as an opportunity to ponder the infinite mercy of God!
3 Reasons Why Peter and Paul Share the Same Feast Day
Conversion of Saint Paul: Franciscan Media
The world moves at lightning ⚡ pace and stress seems to compound faster than interest on payday loans.
Add the short-staffing crisis and the ongoing pandemic to the mix and it’s no wonder people’s mental health is on the brink of breaking (again and again).
I have suffered anxiety attacks at least weekly at work.
I often get frustrated at myself for not having more “strength” to weather the stress storm.
“My best is not enough” I think as I analyze the ever-growing list of things needed to do at work.
And it never will be enough.
You are not meant to have perfection or “enoughness” in this life.
Only One can fill your heart and mind with satisfaction and long-term peace, contentment and joy.
God.
The pressures of the world make it appear survival is the only option. Inhale a large breath and make it last until you burst.
Taking a moment or two to exhale by taking in gratitude infuses new life.
God gives us grace (pure gift) to help us in times of trouble.
The catch?
Gifts are only help when you accept them
Ask and you will receive.
One way to receive grace is to practice gratitude.
Exhale this Monday.
What are you grateful for today?
Hope you had a blessed weekend! 🙏😊
Time for another Catholic Meme Monday.
That’s all I have this week. Stay alert for next week’s Catholic Meme Monday. Receive updates straight to your email inbox by subscribing to The Simple Catholic blog.
Editor’s Note: This post was originally published on July 15, 2017.
Saint Ignatius of Loyola said, “If God sends you many sufferings; it is a sign that He has great plans for you and certainly wants to make you a saint.” As a Catholic I admire the witness of the saints. From a theological and cerebral perspective Ignatius makes sense, but to a person in the midst of trials his words just bring frustration. I believe I am in a period of consolation at this point in my spiritual journey. As a result, my reflection on the Spanish saint’s words may take on a different form now than during a low point in my life.
What I have found to be interesting during the past few months that I have been writing is that my more popular and greater trafficked posts relate to topics on my sufferings: from my anxiety over daily items to my great tribulations in life so far. Today I believe there are three specific reasons why writing about my own limitations appeal to others.
J.R.R. Tolkien refers to the objective reality of widespread sorrow in his legendary work The Lord of the Rings. Below is a brief conversation between the soon-to-be heroic hobbit Frodo and the wizard Gandalf:
Frodo: I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.
Gandalf: So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.
Before I unpack the truth of Gandalf’s words, I will provide a little background on the nature of hobbits. According to both The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, hobbits are creatures that traditionally kept to themselves and stayed out of the political affairs of Middle-Earth. Hobbits enjoyed farming and living a quiet, peaceful existence.
Is that true of yourself?
Perhaps you are an individual that prefers solitary and silent times for reflection. If you are not like a hobbit that is certainly alright as well, but there may be times in your life when you may desire the craziness of life to slow down. I know that is definitely true for me. I am naturally a hobbit at heart.
Life always seems to throw a wrench into my plan. Just like Frodo Baggins’ life was interrupted by the War of the Ring and Gandalf’s strong urging to bear the ring, so too I experience expectations thrust upon me that I am ill-equipped to face.
Suffering is universal. It is inevitable. Humans do not have to travel long or far in this world before suffering rears its ugliness! This is the primary reason why I believe my writing on my personal suffering appeals to others—because people suffer daily.
Sometimes quotes from a fictional character seem to ring truer or strike a chord closer than words I can provide myself. Frodo’s best friend Samwise Gamgee sums up humanity’s worry against suffering best, “It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.” We put ourselves into a paradox if we avoid suffering—we never step onto the road of life, but it is only stepping on the road that we are able to life. Avoidance of suffering is not fully living!
To continue on the fact that suffering is universal, I think that by truthfully acknowledging my limitations and sinful nature I open myself up to let others into my life. My favorite authors include C.S. Lewis, Francis de Sales, and G.K. Chesterton [to name a few]. Each writer admits their failings. I experience Lewis, de Sales, and Chesterton’s humanity through their writing.
In a similar fashion, I have noticed that my own personal favorite and best works are done when I am most honest—not when I utilize the best vocabulary or sentence structure. Half of the times, I am not even aware of what I am going to write about on a particular day or even how I am going to finish a post. Words flow from my mind more easily when I draw upon my experiences of suffering and strife. I cannot explain why that is the case. I can only say that my honesty about my past suffering acts as a cerebral embolectomy for my occasional writer’s block!
My battle against personal vices [anger, greed, impatience, pride, etc] is daunting. What makes my encounter with these evils more bearable is community. Through the fellowship of my family, faith community in the Catholic Church, and my readership I am soothed. I am reminded again of Tolkien’s trilogy during my personal struggles.
In the third book The Return of the King, weariness weighs down on Frodo as he ascends Mount Doom in his attempt to destroy Sauron’s Ring. Listen to the hero’s lament when the evil of the ring tempts him:
Frodo: I can’t recall the taste of food, nor the sound of water, nor the touch of grass. I’m naked in the dark. There’s nothing–no veil between me and the wheel of fire. I can see him with my waking eyes.
Sam: Then let us be rid of it, once and for all. I can’t carry the ring for you, but I can carry you! Come on!
The main hero in the story experiences weakness and laments to the last individual from the original Fellowship formed at the beginning of the journey— fellow hobbit Samwise. Here a fellowship becomes incarnate in Sam. He is not the strongest, smartest, or most clever hero, but he is present in Frodo’s greatest time of need. It is only through Frodo’s donning of the ‘armor of weakness’ [making himself vulnerable and feeble to his friend] that true fellowship happens.
Instead of becoming weaker when I show my limitations and failure the fellowship around me [wife, family, faith, and friends] is galvanized and I am made stronger. Together a fellowship stands the test of temptation and vice.
Catholic Camaraderie—Unity in Suffering
St. Paul explains the meaning of suffering
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May God give you strength to endure your current suffering. 🙏
Editor’s Note: Post originally published on January 16, 2018.
Benjamin Franklin once declared, “The only guarantee in this life is taxes and death.” References to our mortality is oftentimes an uncomfortable topic for humanity in modern Western civilization. We do not want to hear, nor discuss, that all things eventually die. Decay of our bodies and deterioration of our minds is a sinister notion. Because of the fall, death [and sin] entered the world. God’s original plan for His greatest creation—mankind— did not involve dying and eventually being buried six feet under.
Bleakness, death, and despair hounded me over the few months. My wife and I suffered another miscarriage in December and my grandfather suffered a heart attack at the end of 2017—he passed on from this life on January 15th.
Along with my personal encounters with suffering, I attended a funeral Mass for a stranger—my first such event! Our parish priest during the close of the Sunday liturgy told the congregation of a tragic story about a young military mother who died of brain cancer. He notified us of the funeral time to see if anyone wanted to attend to support her family.
Such macabre normally causes me pause—and even fright—however, the school of suffering taught me that death is not the greatest fear in this world. Grounded in my faith combined with the teacher of experience, I learned that death is not the end! While moments of despair linger daily, hope persists. Earlier in 2017, I read Fr. Michael Gaitley’s book ‘You Did it to Me’: Divine Mercy in Action. In hindsight, picking up his work at the Lighthouse Catholic Media kiosk in my church’s atrium was a turning point in my spiritual life. For those that have not heard of this title, the premise of the book involves providing practical ways to infuse divine mercy into our daily living.
Chapter Two of Divine Mercy in Action focused on the corporeal works of mercy of paying our respects to the deceased and welcoming strangers. Fr. Gaitley provided pages at the end of each chapter for practical tips to grow in holiness. Attending a stranger’s funeral—one of the suggestions— piqued my interest. I thought I would have to wait until my children were grown-up in order to actualize the corporeal work of “burying the dead” in my own life.
The Holy Spirit works a mysterious and curious manner. Heeding my priest’s words, I scarified my time, something of myself. In a sense, I died—died to my fear—fear of showing up to an event where I knew no one aside from the presiding priests at the funeral. One caveat on this point, I actually did not stay for the entire Mass, and I never was able to enter the church! Instead, I roamed the church vestibules as I brought my two young children with me. Frequently chasing my runaway two-year old eventually got the better of me. Mother Teresa once said, “God doesn’t require you to succeed, he only requires that you try.”
The saint of Calcutta’s wisdom provides us hope. Hope in a better tomorrow. Hope that death is not the end. The sainted nun stated, “I know God won’t give me anything I can’t handle. I just wish he didn’t trust me so much.” Hearing those words always helps to re-orient my gaze toward hope and aids me in trusting the Lord. Jesus urged his apostles [and us today] in Matthew 16:24-26 to plunge headlong into the suffering of the Cross in order to fully follow Him.
The Resurrection of Jesus Christ provides all believers the hope that death is not the end! My grandfather was a humble man of steadfast faith. I confidently hope and pray for the repose of his soul that he is able to experience the joy of the Beatific Vision. I prayer for the souls of my unborn daughter and the young military mother whose funeral I attended as well.
“Eternal rest grant unto them [these three beautiful souls], O Lord. And let the perpetual light shine upon them. And may the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.”
Sufferings of The Simple Catholic
Death Is a Veil — and Love Is Eternal