Imagine a man named Jose, standing at a crossroads in his life. After years of hard work, Jose suddenly loses his job. He’s anxious about his future, not knowing how he’ll provide for his family. Friends and colleagues gather around him, each offering their advice—some well-meaning, some not so much. “Jose, you just have to do whatever it takes to make money,” one says. “Forget about your scruples. In this world, you have to chase after gold and treasure, or you’ll be left behind. Cut corners if you need to. That’s how people get ahead.”
Jose listens, but deep down, he feels unsettled. He remembers how fulfilled he felt working at the parish food pantry, helping families in need and comforting the lonely. He isn’t sure that chasing money at all costs is the answer. Instead, he feels drawn to serve, to lift others up, and to find meaning in loving his neighbor. Yet, the pressure mounts. Bills don’t pay themselves. The voices pushing him towards worldly success grow louder, and Jose finds himself torn between the world’s promises and the quiet tug of his conscience.
Editor’s Note: Post originally published on June 9, 2019.
This weekend I heard the following comment on the floor as I began work, “Catholics and I don’t get along much. I live to destroy Catholics.” While his statement may certainly be hyperbolic—that co-worker is definitely known for exaggerated and bombastic claims—there is truth to it. During my college years, his statement would have provoked righteous anger. Immediately, I would have engaged in debate on the level of St. Nicholas, the hectic-puncher, himself!
According to Venerable Fulton Sheen, “There are not one hundred people in the United States who hate The Catholic Church, but there are millions who hate what they wrongly perceive the Catholic Church to be.” Perception trumps reality more often than not. Refraining from leaping to judgement, unlike my co-worker, will allow me to demonstrate the love and truth of Catholicism. This article will look at three reasons why I no longer debate opponents of the Catholic Church.
Before our children moved out of our home, most evenings, the five of us would gather around our kitchen table. The table wasn’t always perfectly set—sometimes it was just a simple meal, a pot of soup, a loaf of bread, maybe a few apples. But every night, we laughed together, shared stories from our day, and always took a moment to pray—thanking God for His blessings and asking for the grace to follow Jesus in all we do.
I remember one winter when our neighbor Jimmy, a Vietnam veteran who had become a dear friend, fell seriously ill. Jimmy was a man who had seen much in life and was quietly fighting his own battles every day. Moved by the Holy Spirit, our family knew we had to help. We began inviting Jimmy to share our meals whenever he felt up to it. My children and I would stop by to visit him and help with his yardwork, while my wife checked on him regularly and made sure he got to his doctor’s appointments.
These weren’t grand gestures—just small acts of kindness, offered from the heart. Yet as we cared for Jimmy, we felt a new sense of peace and warmth in our home—a gentle grace that lingered long after the meal was over, a reminder of God’s love alive among us. In these moments, we realized that living the Eucharist means letting the love of Jesus flow through us, sharing His presence not only in church but in the everyday ways we serve, encourage, and lift each other up.
There is a family in a small parish — let’s call them the Rodriguezes — whose story many of us who know them will never forget. A few years ago, their youngest daughter, eight-year-old Sofia, was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive form of leukemia. The doctors were honest but grim. The family was devastated, as any family would be. But they did something that changed not only their own lives, but the life of their entire community. They prayed. Not quietly, not privately, not alone — they opened their home every Friday evening and invited their neighbors, their parish friends, and even strangers to gather around their kitchen table and pray together to God the Father, through Jesus His Son, and in the power of the Holy Spirit.
Week after week, that kitchen filled up. People who hadn’t been to Mass in years came. People who weren’t even Catholic came. They prayed the Rosary, they read Scripture, they laid hands on one another and asked the Holy Spirit to move among them. And six months later, Sofia’s oncologist called with results that left the entire medical team without a ready explanation. The cancer was gone. Completely. Sofia walked back into her school, back into her life, and back into the arms of a community that had been transformed by what they had witnessed together.
But here is the most remarkable part of the story. It wasn’t just Sofia who was healed. Something happened in that neighborhood that no one fully planned. People who had come to pray for a sick child left believing — really believing — in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. And belief, as today’s Gospel tells us, changes everything. That community went on to build a food pantry, a clothing drive, a tutoring program for at-risk children. They built, in their own small and beautiful way, the Kingdom of God. And it all began because they believed.
Editor’s Note: Post originally publiched on October 8, 2019.
The Russian novelist Fyodor Dostoyevsky wrote, “The soul is healed by being with children.” This Sunday, I experienced the truth contained in that quote. It was the first class for Religious Education at my parish. Going into my third year of volunteering as a catechist, I was comfortable with the subject matter, but I was a bit nervous about teaching third and fourth graders for the first time ever. Previously, I taught high school and middle school students.
Begin with the Trinity
The starting lesson was on the Holy Trinity. While that teaching is the most essential belief of Christianity it is also the most misunderstood and easy to fall into heresy. How could I explain this doctrine to younger students without getting too theological or technical?
In hindsight, I always am reminded that it was pointless to worry. Everything turned out fine. St. Paul wrote, “Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God” (Philippians 4:6-7). I have since bookmarked this passage. Although I failed to petition God for aid before the lesson, I am expressing my gratitude in Him using my students as instruments to remind me of wondrous truths contained in the Mystery of the Holy Trinity.
There is a family I know—a mother, a father, and three children—who arrived in America with nothing but hope and the clothes on their backs. They had fled unrest in their homeland, crossing an ocean, believing in the promise of a new life. But when they arrived, the world was not so welcoming. The language was foreign, the winters bit through their thin jackets, and neighbors eyed them with suspicion. The children were teased at school for their accents. The father’s hard-earned degree meant nothing here; he swept floors at night while the mother cleaned houses. They grew weary, and bitterness crept in. But then, one Sunday, they wandered into a small Catholic church.
There, a kind parishioner greeted them, and soon the parish wrapped them in unexpected warmth. Yet the pain lingered—until one evening, during a prayer service, the pastor spoke about forgiveness: how it is not just for those who have wronged us, but for our own hearts’ healing. The family prayed for those who had mistreated them. Slowly, a new peace took root. Not long after, they began volunteering at the church, helping other newcomers. The love they received, and the forgiveness they offered, built something beautiful—a small reflection of the Kingdom of God, right here in their new home.
Editor’s Note: Post originally published on June 1, 2019.
According to the Catechism of the Catholic Church paragraph 675, “Before Christ’s second coming the Church must pass through a final trial that will shake the faith of many believers.” This Sunday Catholics across the world will celebrate the feast of the Ascension. Until recently, this high feast was celebrated on a Thursday—forty days after Easter. From a traditional standpoint normally a 10 day period existed from Ascension to the Coming of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost Sunday. Regardless, of the precise days, the main point is that for a brief period, the Apostles and early disciples of Jesus lived in a transition period from when Jesus no longer visibly existed in the similar manner that he did previously and the official descent of the Holy Spirit.
Suffering from a severe dryness in my spiritual life this Easter season got me thinking: maybe I am in a transitory period myself whereby the descent of the Holy Spirit is not apparent in my life. I feel completely dried up—spiritually! Obviously, my situation is not exactly the same as the 1st century Christians who had to live for an awkward [and maybe apathetic] period before the official reception of the Paraclete. Nevertheless, maybe your life is at a stage similar to that awkward week and a half—pondering the return of Christ, experiencing doubt in Divine Providence, or possibly even living in fear or distress. Reflecting on Acts 1-2 and wisdom from the tradition of the Church—through the Catechism and the saints—I came up with three methods [not really earth-shattering] to avoid awkwardness and apathy in your spiritual life in the days after the Ascension!
Drink from the Wellspring of Worship
The Eucharist is “the source and summit of the Christian life” (CCC 1324). I have probably cited this paragraph more than any other passage, yet it is vitally important to the Catholic faith. What sustained the Apostles in the early Church while waiting for the Paraclete? The body of and blood of Jesus Christ in the form of the Eucharist—it is the wellspring, the origin of worship!
Although Jesus’ physical existence did not appear the same after his Ascension, he is still present to the Apostles [and to us] body, blood, soul, and divinity in the sacrament of the Eucharist. St. Pope John Paul II mentioned the importance of this sacrament in his encyclical letter Ecclesia de Eucharistia, “Her [The Church] foundation and wellspring is the whole Triduum paschale, but this is as it were gathered up, foreshadowed and “concentrated’ forever in the gift of the Eucharist” (no. 5). During periods of spiritual dryness we may be able to sojourn to the spiritual oasis of the Mass.
Hail, Mary: Mother of Perpetual Help, Mother of Good Counsel
Josemaria Escriva declared, “Love our Lady. And she will obtain abundant grace to help you conquer in your daily struggle.” I imagine the days following Jesus’ Ascension was a perilous time for Peter and the rest of the Apostles. During the most confusing and perilous times in my life it appears that Jesus is not present—the most difficult days lands in the middle of the work week when I lack the time to attend daily Mass or ability to go to Eucharistic adoration. Here is where my devotion to Mary is key to sustaining me during the staleness of my spiritual life. Jesus augmented Mary’s motherhood in John 19:27 with a simple command, “Woman, behold your son!” This is a reciprocal relationship as a mere verse later Our Lord urged the Apostle John [who represented humanity both individually and collectively] with the charge: “Behold, your mother!”
From my own experience, I normally contact my mom first [when my wife is not available!] after an incredibly stressful and frustrating day. This is not to downplay the role of my father, but there is something unique, almost mysterious about the ability for mother to sooth children in need. The Blessed Virgin Mary is no different. Mother of Perpetual Help pray for us. Mother of Good Counsel pray for us.
Trust in the Holy Spirit
The great scientist Isaac Asimov once purported, “Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It’s the transition that’s troublesome.” While the first two points of his statement may be debatable, it is quite difficult to argue that turning points in life, no matter how large or small, pose a challenge for everyone. Transitioning from physically seeing the Resurrected Christ to the age of the Church would have been a tough transitory event as well!
Jesus prepared his followers of the coming of the Holy Spirit prior to his Passion, Death, and Resurrection. According to Christ in John 14:15-19, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments. 16 And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate* to be with you always, 17 the Spirit of truth, which the world cannot accept, because it neither sees nor knows it. But you know it, because it remains with you, and will be in you. 18 I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you. 19 In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me, because I live and you will live.”
While the Holy Spirit did not formally descend upon the Apostles in the Upper Room until Pentecost Sunday, the power of the Holy Spirit allowed Jesus to be substantially present in the sacrament of the Eucharist. The Paraclete also guided Peter and the other Apostles in selecting a worthy replacement for Judas. Moreover, just before his Ascension Jesus repeated his promise to send another Helper to fortify his followers: “But you will receive power when the holy Spirit comes upon you,g and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:8).
Hope Always Never Despair
Although you may in a spiritual dry spell [if not now you most certainly will encounter aridity and acedia—spiritual sloth– sometime in your life!], please do not despair. Hope is always on the horizon. Through the sacrament of the Eucharist, guide of Mary, and promise of the help of the Holy Spirit we receive strength and sustenance make it past any awkward and apathetic period in our spiritual journey. Never give up—hope in the Lord always!
The virtue of hope responds to the aspiration to happiness which God has placed in the heart of every man; it takes up the hopes that inspire men’s activities and purifies them so as to order them to the Kingdom of heaven; it keeps man from discouragement; it sustains him during times of abandonment; it opens up his heart in expectation of eternal beatitude. Buoyed up by hope, he is preserved from selfishness and led to the happiness that flows from charity (CCC 1818).
