Hope you had a blessed Sunday! 🙏✝️
Time for another Catholic Meme Monday.
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Guest Post by: David Tonaszuck
My Brothers and Sisters,
As we gather in prayer today, we find ourselves sitting beside our Lord Jesus – unafraid to open our hearts and share everything: our joys, our struggles, our plans, our prayers. In this sacred dialogue, if we listen closely, we hear His gentle voice: “My son, my daughter, I love you so very much and am always with you. Come and be with me, and together our hearts shall become one; one with our Father in heaven and the Holy Spirit.” These words don’t just comfort us—they remind us of God’s generosity, and they point to something even bigger: great things are in store for those who are ready and faithful.
Continue readingHope you had a blessed Sunday! 🙏✝️
Time for another Catholic Meme Monday.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-2 states, “There is an appointed time for everything, and a time for every affair under the heavens. A time to give birth, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to uproot the plant…” The inspired writer offers many examples, but the planting-and-harvesting image fits especially well. The Catholic Church moves through the year with a rhythm of feasts and fasts. While many Catholics still celebrate days like the Transfiguration of the Lord or St. Nicholas Day, they have quietly let other feasts fade from popular practice.
One such tradition is the observance of Ember Days. Known in Latin as Quatuor Tempora (“four times”), these are sets of three days—Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday—kept at the start of each of the four seasons. They are not holy days of obligation, but they give Catholics a unique way to mark the changing seasons with prayer, fasting, and gratitude.
Continue readingEvery year on August 15, Catholics around the world celebrate one of the Church’s most beautiful feasts: the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Alongside the feasts of the Immaculate Conception (December 8) and Mary, Mother of God (January 1), this is a Holy Day of Obligation, a day when we gather for Mass to honor the Mother of God.
And let’s be clear — we venerate Mary, we do not worship her. All true Marian devotion leads us closer to Jesus. The Church teaches that the mysteries of Mary’s life inseparably connect to the mystery of Christ.
The Assumption celebrates that, at the end of her earthly life, God took Mary up body and soul into heavenly glory. This is not simply a personal privilege for her: it is a sign of what God desires for all of us. The Catechism describes it beautifully: Continue reading
Editor’s Note: Post originally published on August 9, 2018.
Among the most bizarre, mysterious, and interesting accounts in the New Testament is the event of the Transfiguration of Jesus. The dictionary defines the word transfiguration as “a complete change of form or appearance into a more beautiful or spiritual state. Common synonyms for transfiguration include: metamorphosis, changeover, transformation, development, adjustment, and even mutation!! Growing up Catholic I have listened to the Gospel telling of this mysterious events many times.
The Transfiguration of Jesus. After six days Jesus took Peter, James, and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them; his face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light. And behold, Moses and Elijah appeared to them, conversing with him. Then Peter said to Jesus in reply, “Lord, it is good that we are here. If you wish, I will make three tents here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”
While he was still speaking, behold, a bright cloud cast a shadow over them, then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.” When the disciples heard this, they fell prostrate and were very much afraid. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Rise, and do not be afraid.” And when the disciples raised their eyes, they saw no one else but Jesus alone.
The primary purpose of the glory of Jesus shown [shone] to Peter, James, and John was meant as a means to prepare them for the glorification of God after the Resurrection and to hint at the beauty of transfigured humanity. According to Saint Pope Saint John Paul II in his 1999 homily for the Feast of the Transfiguration, “In the event of the Transfiguration we contemplate the mysterious encounter between history, which is being built every day, and the blessed inheritance that awaits us in heaven in full union with Christ, the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End.”
Similar to the previous point is that fact that man is on a pilgrim journey, a sojourner on Earth—whose ultimate destination is union with God in Heaven. John Paul II echoed this truth as well,
“We, pilgrims on earth, are granted to rejoice in the company of the transfigured Lord when we immerse ourselves in the things of above through prayer and the celebration of the divine mysteries. But, like the disciples, we too must descend from Tabor into daily life where human events challenge our faith. On the mountain we saw; on the paths of life we are asked tirelessly to proclaim the Gospel which illuminates the steps of believers.”
I imagine the incredible letdown the Apostles must have felt in the moments after the dazzling and inexplicable event of the Transfiguration. Going back to following Jesus in an ordinary way, traveling from town to town, learning from him, and assisting the poor certainly did not compare to the splendor they witnessed on Mount Tabor. It definitely would have been challenging to transition back into that routine! Heck, Peter even desired to stay in the holy place when he declared, “If you wish, I will make three tents* here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”
Coming out of Sunday liturgy, I leave with a similar wonder and awe as the inner circle of Jesus received on that original Transfiguration event. Housing the Real Presence of Lord after reception of the Eucharist provides me incredible peace and patient strength. In a way, we all undergo a momentary transfiguration—a foretaste of Heavenly reality in the Mass. Going back to our worldly affairs, we quickly lose sight and memory of our close encounter with God. May we continue to ask the Holy Spirit to guide us with clarity and strength on our pilgrimage toward Heaven!
Every year, July 29th rolls around and I get to celebrate two things: my birthday and the feast day of one of the most relatable saints in all of Scripture—Saint Martha of Bethany.
Over the years, I’ve come to see Martha not just as a biblical figure who shares my birthday, but as a spiritual companion who understands my temperament, my wiring, and even my weaknesses. She’s a woman of action, but also anxious. A hostess, a worrier, a doer, a disciple. And in many ways, she’s me.
Diagnosed with ADHD as a kid, I’ve always been moving. Fidgeting, bouncing, thinking ahead to the next thing. Even now, I find it hard to sit still. My kids inherited this gift too. Trying to get them to sit through an entire meal is like herding caffeinated squirrels.
So when I read the story of Martha bustling about the house while Mary just sits at Jesus’ feet, I feel seen. Martha isn’t lazy. She’s not uninterested in Jesus. She’s working, preparing, and hosting. She wants everything to be just right.
But Jesus gently interrupts her whirlwind:
“Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things. There is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part” (Luke 10:41–42).
It’s not a harsh correction. It’s a loving invitation to pause. To recognize that Jesus isn’t asking for a five-star meal. He’s asking for you. Not your perfectly arranged table, but your heart.
If I’m honest, I still fall into the same trap Martha did. I love the order of devotions, the structure of routines, and the sense of checking off boxes. But I’ve learned, again and again, that when I turn prayer into performance, I risk missing the Person.
Saint Martha reminds me to prepare the home and the heart. But her sister Mary reminds me how to receive. Both are necessary. As Pope Francis put it in a 2021 homily:
“These are not two attitudes opposed to one another… but are two essential aspects in our Christian life… works of service and charity are never detached from the principle of all our action: that is, listening to the Word of the Lord.”
Martha’s mistake wasn’t serving—it was forgetting to anchor her service in love. And Jesus didn’t scold her because she worked too hard. He lovingly redirected her toward the One Thing that truly matters: Himself.
One of my favorite Martha moments happens in John 11, after her brother Lazarus dies. When Jesus finally arrives, she runs to meet Him and says something I’ve whispered in prayer more times than I can count:
“Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (John 11:21).
It’s honest and raw. The voice of someone who believes but still struggles. Been there? Me too.
But what follows is incredible. Martha, the same woman who once fretted over dinner, proclaims one of the most powerful confessions of faith in the Gospels:
“But even now I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you… I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God” (John 11:22, 27).
Her faith grew in the soil of sorrow. Doubt didn’t disqualify her. It prepared her for deeper trust. That encourages me more than I can say.
Order is good. But order without encounter becomes empty. I’ve had moments in my spiritual life where I went through the motions—saying the prayers, doing the devotions, hitting the marks—while my heart remained untouched.
Martha reminds me that external service should flow from internal receptivity. Our rituals are meant to lead to relationships. Our prayers aren’t performance; they’re presence.
Mary of Bethany shows us what it looks like to sit, to be still, and to listen. To place ourselves at the feet of Jesus. I’ve found it helpful to reread Luke 10 as a form of prayer. First imagine yourself as Martha, then as Mary. Where are you distracted? Where are you receptive?
Pope Francis said it beautifully:
“When ecclesial service is attentive only to doing… we forget the centrality of Christ. When time is not set aside for dialogue with Him in prayer, we risk serving ourselves and not God.”
That one hits close to home. I want to serve, but I want my service to be rooted in prayer. In presence, not performance.
Martha is the patron saint of cooks, cleaners, and homemakers. I may not be much of a cook, but I can scrub a sink like a champ. My OCD tends to show up in my need for control and cleanliness, but even that God has used.
I worked fast food through high school and college. Helped my mom with her cleaning business. At the time, it all felt mundane. But looking back, I can see how God was quietly forming a friendship between me and this New Testament saint.
Martha teaches me that holiness isn’t just found in the chapel—it’s found in the kitchen. It’s found in laundry rooms and drive-thrus and carpool lines. God sanctifies the ordinary, if we let Him.
Image: Jesus, Lazarus, Martha and Mary | St. Botolph without Aldersgate
Saint Benedict’s motto for monastic life was ora et labora—pray and work. Not pray then work. Not work instead of prayer. But a life that is both active and contemplative. That’s the balance I want to seek. And that’s the balance Martha eventually found.
She reminds me that it’s okay to be the one who wants to set the table. Just don’t forget to sit down and eat with the Guest of Honor.
So today, as I celebrate another year of life, I’ll also celebrate a friend in heaven who gets it. Who knew anxiety, doubt, distraction—and still became a beloved disciple of Christ.
Happy Feast Day, Saint Martha. Teach me to love Jesus in the serving and the stillness.
Saint Martha- Disciple of Our Lord
Martha, Mary, and Lazarus: Friends of Jesus
Martha, Mary, and the Heart of Discipleship: Putting God First
