☀️🙏🍞✝️Me: But I NEED to correct them! 🕊️🔥🙏: You sure?? Me: Fine, you’re right sometimes saying nothing is better than something. Sometimes it’s everything. 🙏 (Deletes long-winded epic theological victory-but-not-fully-charitable comment)Catholic math be like ☝️TV Jesus meets the real @pontifex Better than a reality show. 🙂✝️❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥🧁🧁🧁The best selfies! Do you have a biblically strong password?? 😄So true! (proceeds to lose keys again)Super-stacked week. 🔥❤️🔥🙏🙂God first. 🙏🙏🙏Amen! 🌹🙏Mass is a workout some days. 😄Niche 🔥🔥🔥 meme, yes I’m weird. 😄🙏Saint Thomas More pray for us! 😄🙂🙏
That’s all I have this week. Stay tuned for next week’s Catholic Meme Monday. Receive updates straight to your email inbox by subscribing to The Simple Catholic blog.
P.S. If you prefer receiving quality Catholic humor in daily doses follow me on Instagram @thesimplecatholic.
Welcome to another The Simple Catholic Sunday Funnies! Growing up, one of my favorite parts of Sunday was flipping to the comics section of the newspaper: a little pocket of humor, color, and light-heartedness to start the week.
Now, in that same spirit, I’m excited to share this weekly collection of wholesome, funny Catholic comic strips. Thanks to the incredible talents of artists like Father Alvaro Comics, The Catholic Cartoonist, Sam Estrada, and Fr. Michael DeBlanc. These comics bring a joyful twist to our shared faith, reminding us that laughter is one of God’s great gifts.
Special shout-out to Tomics by Tom Gould as our newest contributor!
Enjoy Corpus Christi Sunday with some Catholic comics.
I hope this week’s edition of The Simple Catholic Sunday Funnies brought a smile to your face and a bit of lightness to your Sunday. In a world that can often feel heavy, it’s good to pause, laugh, and see our faith reflected in simple moments of joy.
Be sure to check back next week for more Catholic humor — and as always, feel free to share with a friend who could use a laugh and a little grace.
In 2019, the Catholic world was shaken to its core.
A study found that the majority of Catholics believed that the Eucharist was just a symbol. Despite there being errors in the research, the warning bells were loud enough. And the Church took notice.
Since then, we’ve seen something beautiful flourish. Last year, the National Eucharistic Congress was held in the United States. Eucharistic processions happened around the world. And here in Sydney, our Archbishop is leading a procession expected to draw over 20,000 people.
This is amazing progress. But even still…
We’re still missing something.
The early Church had such a rich and beautiful belief about the Eucharist. It was deeper, more transformative, and more profound than what many people hold to. Yet today, much of it has been forgotten by us.
A true ‘Eucharistic Revival’ must revive this truth. And that is what we want to do today.
The Eucharist Is Love Himself
To understand Jesus in the Eucharist, you have to understand who God really is.
Scripture gives us two big claims;
“God is Triune.”
“God is Love.”
These two claims baffle many Christians. Personally, it took me years to understand what it meant. But once I did, the Eucharist made a lot more sense.
Here’s what I realised; if you think about love, what do you need for it to exist?
Well, obviously you need a lover. But this lover needs someone to also adore, ‘the beloved’. And then both of them can love each other deeply.
God is like this.
The Father is the Lover.
The Son is the Beloved.
The Holy Spirit is the Love between them.
Yet, they all fully possess the same nature.
This Eucharist that you are receiving isn’t just Jesus. It’s Love Himself. And when you receive it worthily, you are swept up into this divine exchange of love.
A Mystery Lost in Translation
But for us English speakers we run into a problem.
Our language is inadequate. We say we ‘love’ chocolate, our friends, and God, we are all using the same word. To the Greek New Testament writers, that would have been unthinkable.
The Gospel writers use a very specific type of love when talking about God:
Agape.
Agape is not just love. But it is a total, sacrificial, self-emptying love. The kind of love that doesn’t hold anything back.
This is the love God is.
You see this love most clearly on the cross. And we can also see that in the Eucharist.
“This is my body, given for you.” (Luke 22:19)
“My blood, which is poured out for you.” (Luke 22:20)
The Eucharist is more than simply a ritual. It’s Jesus pouring himself out specifically for you.
You Are What You Eat
Many Catholics just stop at level one:
“Jesus is truly present in the Eucharist.”
Whilst that’s true, for the early Church there was more to it than just that. It was about transformation. It was about becoming like God. A process they called theosis.
When you receive the host, you’re not just receiving Christ. Christ is receiving you. You are giving yourselves to each other.
This is the self-sacrificial love that I was talking about before. And the more we partake in this love, the more we become like the God who is Love itself. We become like cleaned mirrors that clearly reflect the likeness of God. (Gen 1:26)
This is the very point of the Eucharist… and even the Incarnation. The great St Athanasius went as far as to say that “God became man so that Man might become like God.”
The Eucharist is something that consumes you with God’s love. And there is no one who knew any of this better than St Ignatius of Antioch.
The Man Who Became the Eucharist
St Ignatius of Antioch was one of the most famous and earliest Christians. As a bishop, he couldn’t stand when people said that the Eucharist was just symbolic.
“They abstain from the Eucharist and from prayer because they do not confess that the Eucharist is the flesh of our Savior Jesus Christ, flesh which suffered for our sins… They who deny the gift of God are perishing in their disputes” (Letter to the Smyrnaeans 6:2–7:1).
This is what many faithful Catholics agree with and even use in apologetics.
However, St Ignatius of Antioch’s love for the Eucharist doesn’t end there. In the year 107 AD, he was arrested for his faith and sent to Rome to be massacred.
Honestly, what the Romans did to St Ignatius should send shivers down your spine. But he wasn’t paralysed by fear. He knew that he would eventually be torn to pieces by hungry lions and… looked forward to it.
It wasn’t because he hated life. But because Christ had offered himself, and this was Ignatius’ opportunity to love him in return. This was a masterclass in theosis.
He became like the Eucharist.
“Suffer me to be the food of wild beasts, which are the means of my making my way to God. God’s wheat I am, and by the teeth of wild beasts I am to be ground that I may prove Christ’s pure bread.” (St. Ignatius, Epistle to the Romans 4.1)
This is what the Eucharist received well does to you. It fills you with a love so deep that not even death can overcome it. St Ignatius’ love is beautiful and an example to us all, but you’re probably thinking…
What about us now?
There aren’t too many lions in the US or Australia. And martyrdom isn’t that common anymore. But that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook.
The Eucharist still calls you to the same love. To become a living sacrifice, even in your everyday life.
“Offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God.” (Romans 12:1)
There are millions of ways to live this out. But here are just a few ideas to get you started
Work with diligence
Choose to forgive and offer your resentment to God
Pray with your whole heart
Offer your Sundays to God
Practice a consecration to St Joseph or Mary (or even both!)
Give some of your time, money, and talents to charity and the Church
Discern whether religious life (eg. being a nun or priest) is worthwhile for you
Be honest with people about your failings
Go to Confession and offer your sins to God
In short, give everything to God and hold nothing back. You were made to be a total self-gift.
This Corpus Christi, when you march down in the procession, be proud. Be proud that our Eucharistic Lord gives himself wholly to you. But also be proud that God allows you to offer yourself to him.
And in the end, you can truly be called a “good and faithful servant”. (Matt 25:23)
References and Further Study
Augustine. “On the Trinity”. Augustine: On the Trinity: On the Trinity Books 8-15. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2008
Ignatius of Antioch. “The Epistles of St Ignatius of Antioch”. The Epistles of St Clement of Rome and St Ignatius of Antioch. New Jersey, Paulist Press International, 1946
“Wasting Your Life”. Fulton Sheen: Family Retreat, hosted by Ven. Fulton Sheen.
Edalat Hope is a Catholic blog writer for ‘Virtue Books and Gifts’, an apostolate dedicated to deepening the love of God across Australia and beyond. His aim is to help make accessible the classic spiritual works and practices that have formed saints for generations. https://www.virtuebooks.com.au
It’s easy to box Catholicism into a Sunday morning affair. We dress up, sing, shake hands at the sign of peace, and check the Mass off the to-do list. But that kind of compartmentalized faith crumbles the moment suffering shows up unannounced, dragging its baggage into our Monday mornings, our family dinners, and hospital waiting rooms. Catholicism isn’t a weekend religion. It’s a daily, lived reality—especially in suffering. And if we’re honest, suffering isn’t just something we endure individually. It binds us together in a communion deeper than coffee hour after Mass. There is a fellowship of suffering. And it is holy.
When Suffering Isn’t Just Yours
I used to think suffering was something you white-knuckled alone. I imagined Job in isolation, scraping his sores and waiting for God to speak. But as I’ve grown—both in age and in my walk with Christ—I’ve come to see that suffering has a communal dimension. When my son was abused at daycare, I thought the pain would crush me. When my daughter faced medical complications and we walked through miscarriage, it felt like the cross would splinter my soul. But in those dark valleys, I didn’t walk alone. People prayed. Some brought meals. Others sat in silence with us. I received texts that simply said, “Offering my Mass today for your family.” Those gestures weren’t small. They were sacrificial. They were holy.
Catholic camaraderie in suffering is the Church at its best. That’s what the Body of Christ does. When one part aches, the rest compensates. And more than anything, I started praying something strange: “Jesus, send me more suffering if it is a means to glorify You and bring relief to the rest of the Body of Christ.”
The Cross is Communal
Our society prizes self-sufficiency. So it’s no wonder suffering gets treated like a private shame. But Christianity flips that script. Our Lord did not suffer in secret. He suffered publicly, on a hill, before friend and foe alike. He was lifted up—not just to save us individually but to draw all people to Himself.
St. Teresa of Avila once said, “God knows how to draw good from evil. And the good is all the greater in the measure that we diligently strive that He not be offended in anything.”
That striving isn’t done alone. It’s communal. Suffering shared in love becomes redemptive. To love is to suffer. To suffer is to open your heart to the suffering of others. And when we offer up our afflictions—especially those we didn’t choose—for the sake of others, we participate in the apostolate of suffering.
Offering It All
Padre Pio once said, “Love Jesus, love Him very much, but to do this, be ready to love sacrifice more.”
There’s a prayer I’ve started saying more often lately: “Lord, I will offer my present sufferings in atonement for this person’s soul.” It’s not easy. Especially when that person is someone who’s caused harm, someone who’s part of the injustice. But that’s where the Gospel gets real. The Cross wasn’t offered for the righteous. It was for sinners. That includes me. That includes them.
To suffer in union with Christ is not a resignation to pain. It’s an act of rebellion against despair. It is choosing to love in the furnace of affliction. And it is a powerful witness.
When someone embraces suffering with patience, gentleness, and joy, it is undeniable proof that the Holy Spirit is alive in them. That kind of suffering transforms you. It sanctifies. It makes you beautiful when united to the Cross. As I often say, “Suffering is truly sanctifying when you look to Love.”
Job as Our Model
St. Josemaria Escriva put it beautifully: “Those who pray and suffer, leaving action for others, will not shine here on earth; but what a radiant crown they will wear in the kingdom of life! Blessed be the apostolate of suffering!”
Our job as Catholics is to act like Job when faced with suffering. Not to deny the pain. Not to pretend we have all the answers. But to remain faithful. To hold on to God when everything else is stripped away. And to look around and realize: we’re not alone.
There is a fellowship of suffering in the Church. It’s seen in the parishioner who lights a candle for a grieving mother. It’s seen in the teenager fasting for a friend with cancer. And it’s seen in the weary dad kneeling before the crucifix saying, “Jesus, I trust in You.”
The suffering of the Cross is a necessary harbinger of union with God in Heaven. That’s not just theology. That’s lived reality. And while we wait for that final union, we suffer together, in communion, so that the light of Christ is not hidden under a bushel basket but shared with the world.
Suffering is inescapable. But it is not meaningless. In the Body of Christ, suffering becomes a channel of grace—for us, and for others.
So let us embrace it, not as punishment, but as participation. Not as isolation, but as invitation. To love. To serve. Become like Christ.
Editor’s Note: Matthew Chicoine interviewed Whitney Hetzel via phone call on May 23rd, 2025 and June 11th, 2025. Some of the questions have been rearranged and edited to provide the best reader experience without losing any integrity of the answers given.
What drew you personally to the story of Our Lady of Guadalupe, and how has working on this project deepened your own faith journey?
We at Good Catholic did our first series in 2017 and launched with Fatima. The response was excellent. We had a lot of conversations about which series we could do. We figured we would do the major Marian Apparitions. We realized how many layers and history to look at for Guadalupe. We shelved the project, finally the next year we decided to start the project.
I constantly hear from people who have a devotion to Guadalupe that Mary meets us in the little places. I myself am a convert and while it took me a bit to get to Mary, I have had a devotion to her ever since. Through this project I am learning that Mary is concerned about all the things in our lives (big AND small).
The tilma of Juan Diego has survived nearly 500 years without deterioration—what does the scientific analysis reveal about this miraculous preservation, and how do you present this evidence in the film?
It’s just fascinating. It’s almost too much to present. We are probably going to do seven episodes. Science looks at something and gives the validity of something. All science points to and answers the fact that Mary gave the tilma to Juan.
Even the Church is slow to accept miracles and test things. The thing that fascinates me the most is the cornea in her eye shows what she saw. The reflection in the eye (smaller than a grain of rice) was validated by a number of eye doctors to show that Mary was looking at Juan Diego and the bishop.
The constellations in the sky on her mantle are looking down from the galaxies on the tilma. And all the symbols on the mantle reflect certain things to the indigenous people. There’s so many things and they are equally fascinating.
There’s no signs of aging on the actual image of Our Lady. That’s incredible after all these years.
You’ve assembled incredible contributors like Fr. Spitzer and Jorge Arredondo from Harvard and Notre Dame. What unique insights do they bring about the theological and historical significance of Guadalupe that might surprise viewers?
Fr. Spitzer is a scientist and has a brilliant mind. He is also a priest, but he is coming from the perspective of a scientist. I didn’t think that I would be able to speak with a scientist because all of this has been studied before.
I don’t remember how I found Fr. Spitzer’s book on Guadalupe in our warehouse (he just wrote this last year).
We got in contact with Jorge from the authors of Guadalupe and the Flower World Prophecy. Jorge came from a linguistics perspective on the tilma. He gets into a lot of the history. We wanted to stay in line with the historical aspects and stay away from the sensational aspects. Even on the language side we wanted to cover our bases and Jorge is coming back in June for additional conversations about the Nahuatl language that Juan Diego spoke.
We wanted to look at the tilma from a factual and unbiased perspective. That’s why we look at it from the scientific and historical perspectives. It would be silly to add to the story of the tilma because there’s so many fascinating facts from the event itself.
Our Lady of Guadalupe appeared to an indigenous man and spoke in his native language—how does the documentary explore the cultural bridge she created between indigenous peoples and the Catholic faith?
That’s a great question! Really, it’s a narrative story. The protagonist is Juan Diego. The Franciscan missionaries really did help bridge that gap. The conquest ended the human sacrifices in the Aztec culture. Truly in the ten years before Our Lady appeared the Franciscans tried to bridge and catechize. There was a language barrier that made it difficult to help in the conversion process. The bishop sent by King Charles (around 1521) was up against a lot, two steps forward five steps back. The conquistadors were poor examples of the faith. And some of the indigenous people didn’t want Catholicism to take root.
The bishop wrote a letter to King Charles and sent it in a lard barrel and got on his knees and asked for a sign. And shortly after Our Lady was sent to Juan Diego and also appeared to his sick uncle.
In today’s cultural climate, why do you believe the message of Guadalupe is particularly relevant?
I think it’s just as relevant today. Each age has a time of challenges. When you look at the stuff that is going on in the Church the last decade, people are leaving the Church. But you see a juxtaposition of there being a resurgence of the faith. I feel like there has been a sense of the faith waning but there’s the beginnings of a Catholic moment. We are nearing the 500th anniversary of the Blessed Virgin appearing to Juan Diego. I think we are living in an exciting time.
What do you hope Catholic families will take away from this series?
I think my strongest hope is that a renewed devotion and trust in our Lady will happen. In some ways it is in the small ways that Mary cares for us. And that Mary always, always, always leads us to Christ. I hope Catholic families truly embrace this. That we can always turn to Mary and be covered under Her mantle.
Mary is the connection to the humanity of Jesus and shows us that Jesus is still with us. When she appears, Mary helps us recognize that the Incarnation is important. Especially with Guadalupe, Mary left us something tangible with the tilma. People really do need a tangible sign that our Lord is not distant, that he is with us.
Beyond the Kickstarter campaign, what’s your vision for how this documentary can reach both practicing Catholics and those who might be encountering this miracle for the first time?
Thanks for this question, because this is one of our biggest challenges (and our greatest hope). Because of the tangibility of the tilma, we have this opportunity to reach people who aren’t Catholic. A lot of people (myself included) kind of look at Guadalupe as a Latin American devotion. But she appeared for all of us. And I hope that this series will show through the science of the tilma that this devotion is not culturally limited, it’s for the whole world.
In 1945, Pope Pius XII named Our Lady of Guadalupe as Patroness of the Americas (North and South). Saint Pope John Paul II confirmed this title in the late 90s.
What has been the most profound moment or discovery during your research and filming process that reinforced why this story needed to be told?
It’s one of the scientific elements of the tilma. Truly, the evidence of the eyes of our Lady having the curvature of being the same as a human eye. And the reflection in her eyes being what she saw (Juan Diego and the bishop). Father Spitzer reinforced this truth. These are signs that were interesting to me. In 1531, the people didn’t need scientific evidence to be convinced, but she knew that our modern world would need more of this scientific evidence. The fact that the tilma has survived for 500 years is a miracle.
My hope is that this will lead people to the truth of believing in God.
Where can my readers learn more about this project and support it?
Whitney Hetzel’s most important job is her vocation as mother to nine children (ages 15–35) and grandmother to five (soon to be eight). Whitney is a convert to Catholicism. In college, she majored in journalism and English and received a Master’s degree in Psychology from Saint Louis University. She loves her job as a writer and content creator for Good Catholic—the digital arm of The Catholic Company.
Whitney is the Executive Producer of Not Made By Human Hands: The Miracle of Guadalupe and has enjoyed combining rigorous research, theology, and storytelling to bring the story of the miracle of Guadalupe to others. Her lifelong passion for writing, sparked early on with her blog 9 Kid Fitness, has evolved into a vocation of sharing faith-filled content that helps others live as authentic Christians in their daily lives.
Editor’s Note: Matthew Chicoine interviewed @churchofambrose from Instagram via phone call on April 11th, 2025. Some of the questions have been rearranged and edited to provide the best reader experience without losing any integrity of the answers given.
Tell me about your faith journey.
I was born and raised Catholic. During my teenage years I became lukewarm, I moved to university and during the initial years my faith struggled. Slowly, but surely the Lord called me back to the faith in a deeper way. I was fundamentally unhappy for a while before I found God again. I want people to experience it.
The Ambrosian Rite is largely unknown outside of Milan. It is a local church, there’s practically one diocese (Milan).
The Ambrosian Rite dates back to at least the 4th century with connections to St. Ambrose himself. What sparked your passion for preserving this ancient liturgical tradition through digitization?
I think the Ambrosian Rite is one of the most unique rites. It is very intrinsic in our culture. This rite starts from (most likely) the old Roman Rite. Bl. Cardinal Schuster (1880-1954) said that Saint Ambrose took the rite from Rome and slightly modified it. This is probably only partially true, however the Ambrosian Rite is the oldest Western Rite still alive today. Our Lent is the same Lent that Gregory the Great would have followed. It’s so interesting and cool that this rite is preserved. This is how Saints Augustine and Ambrose followed. It feels like I’m going back centuries; it’s very inspiring.
(For example during the 1st, 3rd and 5th Sundays of Lent, instead of the “Gloria” we sing the “Divinae Pacis”. This chant is older than the edict of Milan (313 AD))
For readers unfamiliar with the Ambrosian Rite, what are the most distinctive elements that set it apart from the more familiar Roman Rite celebrated in most Catholic churches?
In general the thing that people notice the most is the thurible. In the Roman Rite there’s a cap on top of it. We don’t have a cap on it and it’s spun in a 360 degree motion. It is spun to form the shape of the cross. (At the start of the Mass the altar is incensed. You can remove this and add the text at the bottom) (Another particular difference, is the incensation of the Tabernacle which is done kneeling at the start of every High Mass.)
The other thing people notice is the chants. It’s very hard to explain, it’s just very different.
(The ambrosian chants were introduced by Saint Ambrose himself in the 4th century. For the first time in the Church’s history, non-psalmic hymns were included in liturgical celebrations. Ambrose, personally composed many hymns, including “Aeterne rerum conditor”, “Deus creator omnium”, “Iam surgit hora tertia”, and “Intende qui regis Israel”. The most famous hymn is obviously the “Te Deum”, which was composed together with Saint Augustine after Augustine’s baptism. I highly suggest the reader listen to the Ambrosian Version of the “Te Deum”. Despite the modifications it underwent over the centuries, Ambrosian chant is considered the oldest surviving body of Western liturgical music.)
And the Offertory is done before the Credo (and it is much longer). We have lots of prefaces (one for each day) and some of them are very old and date back to St. Ambrose.
(there are other differences but these ones are the most noticed by first time visitors)
Your mission focuses on digitizing the Traditional Ambrosian Rite. What are the greatest challenges you’ve faced in translating manuscripts and liturgical books that are many centuries old into accessible digital formats?
The Ambrosian Rite was heavily attacked from its beginning. Most of the original manuscripts are gone. When it comes to more recent things, I have been looking for breviaries and missals. It is very difficult to find these items. There are subtle differences that are easy to miss. It is difficult to find where things originated from.
The Ambrosian liturgical calendar has some fascinating differences, including six Sundays of Advent rather than four. Which seasonal celebrations in the Ambrosian tradition do you find most spiritually enriching?
Our Ordinary Time is limited compared to the Roman Rite. It is only during a few weeks of the year, and differences in color. We have a different hue of purple (morello). During the Lenten period we use black during the weekdays because it’s also a penitential color not just for mourning. Saturday and Sundays are less penitential during Lent, so morello is used.
(Red is the Eucharistic color instead of the Roman Rite white, so the feast of the Corpus Domini (Corpus Christi in the Roman Rite) is in Red not white in the Ambrosian rite)
Who are saints particularly honored in the Ambrosian Rite?
Ambrose (of course being our Rite’s namesake).
Charles Borromeo is our second patron saint. He is the one who reformed the Archbishop of Milan. He had a huge role in the Council of Trent. In Milan he was the first one to create a seminary. He is also the patron saint of seminaries.
We care about our bishops and martyrs. In the Eucharist Prayer we ask for intercession for most of the archbishops and martyrs.
(I’ll send a picture of the Comunicantes with the Ambrosian Saints and Martyrs)
Looking to the future, how do you see traditional liturgical forms like the Ambrosian Rite contributing to the spiritual renewal of the Church in an increasingly digital age?
I’m noticing many young people are more interested in the traditional liturgies. The church where I attend is always full. You might find a seat if you go five minutes early, but not likely. There’s a huge emphasis on the parish. It’s kind of like the dynamic between the Traditional Latin Rite Mass and the Novus Ordo Mass (in the Roman Rite).
Where can my audience find more of your work? On my Instagram page @churchofambrose.
My son, my daughter, I love you so very much and am always with you. Come and be by my side and together our hearts will be one; one with our Father in Heaven and the Holy Spirit. “Glory to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit; to God who is, who was, and who is to come.”
Today, as we gather to reflect on the mystery and beauty of the Trinity, we hear the gentle, insistent call of God’s love. It is a love that does not waver, a love that does not leave us orphaned or alone. “Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, nor has it so much as dawned on man what God has prepared for those who love him.” Paul’s words to the Corinthians remind us of something we so often forget: that the wisdom and plans of God are far beyond anything we can imagine, and yet, through the Holy Spirit, He reveals Himself to us in ways both simple and profound.
Our Father in Heaven loves us immeasurably, not because of what we have done, but because we are His children. Today, we stand before the mystery of the Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It’s tempting to treat this as just a theological idea, something abstract, something reserved for scholars and catechisms. But the Trinity is not a puzzle to be solved; it is a relationship to be entered into. The grace of the Trinity is given by the Father, through the Son, in the Holy Spirit. “The Father is Love, the Son is Grace, the Holy Spirit is their bond of fellowship, O Blessed Trinity.”
We say in our Creed: “We believe in one God.” Not three gods, but one God; above all things as Father, through all things as the Word, and in all things as the Spirit. This unity is not cold or distant. It is a unity that welcomes us in, that makes space for us, that draws us into the dance of divine love and communion.
In the Gospel, we hear Jesus preparing his friends for what’s to come: the sending of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. The disciples didn’t understand, not yet. They couldn’t imagine how the story would unfold; how suffering, death, and resurrection would become the path to new life for all creation. But Jesus promises: “When he comes, the Spirit of truth, he will guide you to all truth.” The Spirit will not speak on His own, but He will speak what He hears from the Father and the Son. He will declare to us the things that are coming.
And so, just as the disciples were sent out to build up the Body of Christ, we are sent too. How do we do this? Not by our own power, but by the grace of the Holy Spirit. God’s love enters our hearts and radiates outward; a quiet, steady light that touches others through our words and actions. Heart to heart. The Spirit transmits the Father’s love, through the Word of Jesus, into our own lives, so that we can share it with those around us.
The Holy Spirit nudges us; gently, persistently, toward a life that reflects the Gospel: loving God with all our heart, body, mind, and soul, and loving our neighbor as ourselves. When we allow the Spirit to move in us, we build up the Body of Christ, here and now, in our families, in our communities, in every ordinary moment. By saying yes to God’s will, we help create the kingdom of heaven wherever we go.
Living a Trinitarian life is not just about prayer or coming to Mass; though these are essential. It’s about letting that love spill over into every part of our lives: in acts of kindness, in forgiveness, in charity, in the way we greet a stranger or comfort a friend. Through the sacraments, especially the Eucharist, we are strengthened to be Christ’s presence in the world. Our words and actions become echoes of the love of the Trinity. And in return, we receive the gifts of the Spirit: joy, peace, love, happiness, reverence.
We become true children of God when we trust Him, obey Him, and let Him shape us into people of the New Covenant: people of love, people of relationship, people who walk the path toward a righteous life by building the Body of Christ around us.
My son, my daughter, I love you, and am always with you. Go out with love. Give praise, thanksgiving, and glory to our Father in heaven always. And remember: love and serve those around you, as I love you.
Blessed Carlo Acutis once said, “Not me, but God.” His words echo deeply in my own spiritual life. This blog is not about me, but about the work of the Holy Spirit. I choose to remain anonymous because the voice behind these reflections isn’t what matters — the One speaking through them is.
I am a lifelong Catholic with a deep love for Scripture, the sacraments, and the quiet ways God speaks through everyday life. Live the Eucharist was born from my desire to share how the Gospel and the Eucharist shape not just my Sundays, but every step of the journey.
My hope is that these reflections bless you, challenge you, and draw you closer to Jesus — truly present in the Eucharist and profoundly present in your daily life.
