November 1st—the Solemnity of All Saints—is among my favorite celebrations in the Church’s liturgical calendar. Only the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity and Corpus Christi (the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ) eclipse All Saints Day in significance for me personally.
One of my favorite aspects of Catholicism is the beautiful reality of the Communion of Saints. Prayer is a bridge to God, and intercessory prayer reminds us that we don’t have to walk the journey of faith alone. Just as we ask our family and friends to pray for us here on earth, we can turn to our heavenly brothers and sisters to intercede for us before God.
The saints are guides to Christ. They reflect the love of Jesus in unique ways, much like individual mirrors reflecting the same divine light. Some were scholars and theologians. Others were parents, missionaries, martyrs, or ordinary people who lived extraordinary lives of faith.
What unites them isn’t their personalities, accomplishments, or even the particular struggles they faced. It’s their love for Jesus Christ and their willingness to cooperate with God’s grace.
Editor’s Note: Post originally published on September 14, 2022.
I struggle with the sin of pride. I often hate to admit I made a mistake. Even if it is a minor one. I tend to blow the error out of proportion in my mind. This leads to me spiraling into a descent of despair. Reason goes out the window and I lash out at my loved ones.
One of the most effective saints at keeping my pride in check is Saint Teresa of Avila. I refer to her as one of the patron saints of my family. We asked for her intercession in May 2018 to protect our unborn daughter (my wife has a history of miscarriages). Since then my wife and I have sought Teresa’s help daily in our bedtime prayers.
This fall I’m am trying to get back into a regular habit of reading spiritual work. I discovered a free course on Teresa of Avila’s Interior Castle featured on the Smart Catholic website. I study her work for about 20-30 minutes a day during the week.
Below is a letter I dedicated to our Lord Jesus Christ in celebration of his birth, December 25, 2020 Anno Domini.
Dear Baby Jesus,
In a stable, 2000 years ago, a seemingly ordinary infant was born. Through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, shepherds and kings from afar learned about His incredible presence. God uses the most common of circumstances to work the greatest of all miracles–the Incarnation. God so loved the world He sent you–His only Son– to bridge the great gulf, the separation caused by sin.
Wrapped in swaddling clothes, laid in a manger, you my king took the form of mankind. I have heard the Nativity story dozens of times. This Advent I feared I would take your origin story for granted. Instead, I am grateful for the opportunity to gaze on the Nativity scene through new eyes–not merely of a follower, but also as a father.
My children are a reminder of your goodness, truth, and beauty. Seeing the twinkle in their eyes when they gaze at the Nativity Scene at home or church is priceless. The smiles on my kids faces as they color “presents” pictures for my wife and I remind me the true reason for the season!
People are born everyday on this earth, but only once a year do we remember the greatest birth of all.
Jesus my servant king, Emmanuel, Prince of Peace, God-hero, I adore you and celebrate with my family and friends the anniversary of your birth. I pray that my heart is enlarged to make room within the inn of my soul for you, my family, friends, and people I meet daily!
Praised be to God in the Highest and Alleluia for our Savior’s arrival.
With great love and gratitude,
Your adopted son,
Matthew
For us men and for our salvation
he came down from heaven,
and by the Holy Spirit was incarnate of the Virgin Mary,
Saturday mornings in our home tend to begin with the whir of vacuum cleaners, the lemony scent of Murphy’s wood soap , and the predictable chorus of “Who left this here?” from one of our kids. This week, our mission was clear: clean the house before my brother’s visit. The incentive? A mix of familial pride, the joy of welcoming someone we love, and a few mystery bribes still to be determined.
Our four kids dove into the task with surprising enthusiasm. My oldest, who inherited my love for organization and task completion, made the garage his domain. I’d casually mentioned earlier in the week that we should clean it out, and apparently that seed took root. He was unstoppable, sorting tools, sweeping corners, and directing his siblings like a foreman at a holy construction site.
Watching my children work, I felt a quiet joy. Not just because the garage was finally walkable, but because I glimpsed something deeper at work: a desire to prepare. There’s something profoundly human about that. When we love someone, we want to make ready a place for them.
That, in a nutshell, is the spiritual life.
Preparation as a Form of Love
We often think of preparation as drudgery, checking boxes before the “real thing” begins. But in the Christian life, preparation is part of the encounter. The work of getting ready disposes our souls to receive grace. It’s the difference between rushing through confession before Easter and slowly, intentionally, letting God sweep through the clutter of our hearts.
College can be a wonderful thing – living in a broad community of people the same age as you experiencing the newfound freedoms that come with adulthood. There is no other time quite like it. It is a time of immense change, for better or for worse. For me, college proved extremely beneficial in nurturing the values my parents had instilled in me. I was blessed to attend Ave Maria University, a small Catholic school in about as far south Florida you can go before you hit the Everglades. Ave Maria roots itself in true devotion to Christ by holding fast to the teachings of the Church as well as building up a strong community of believers.
My four years spent there were saturated with joyful friendships that found common ground in our strive for sainthood. Surrounded by good examples who were all my age, in my state of life, and living out their faith in Christ tremendously aided my spiritual maturation through the ebbs of flows of emerging adulthood. I realize this is not the typical college experience, so I do not write this with the expectation to fully sympathize with my readers. However, I pray that my advice for living the faith out post-college may prove helpful and provide practical inspiration for those finding themselves in this exciting stage of life.
The Analogy of the Current
My campus chaplain used to share an analogy with us that likened the world to a flowing current. The current is very easy to enter and float along with. Yet, where the mainstream leads is destructive to both soul and body. 2 Corinthians 4:4 tells us that “the god of this age [Satan] has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, so that they may not see the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.” Scripture makes it evident that the evil one has a certain dominion over matters of the flesh. We see this in the direction the world is going. The call of those who wish not to live for this world is to swim against the current.
For anyone who has experience swimming upstream, it is not an easy task. Rather, it requires previously built up strength and a devised game plan to prevent burnout. This is principally why Christians should take their spiritual lives seriously. Our time on this earth is a battle for our souls. Thankfully, we fight on the winning team. Our job is to stay on the victorious front. We do this by living out the faith day in and day out and in doing so, we remain close to Christ.
But what does this look like on the practical level? Especially for someone who is just learning how to live in the world as an adult? Facing reality with all of its responsibilities is intimidating. There is so much talk about what “the real world” is like when you are in college. Once you are in it, you are in it. How does one navigate a new life and remain on the vine? I would like to propose three vital means.
Prayer is Indispensable
Over the centuries, many saints have analogized prayer to the soul as breath is to the lungs. In other words, prayer is the lifeblood of the spirit. It is impossible to live the faith without a steady prayer life. St. Alphonsus Ligouri goes so far to say, “Without prayer we have neither light nor strength to advance in the way which leads to God. He who prays will be saved, but he who does not will be damned.” There is a weight to prayer. The Catechism of the Catholic Church quotes St. Therese of Lisieux in its definition of prayer stating, “prayer is a surge of the heart; it is a simple look turned toward heaven, it is a cry of recognition and of love, embracing both trial and joy” (CCC #2558). This meaning simplifies our understanding of prayer.
Prayer can be something intimidating for those seeking to incorporate it in their lives. It can seem complex and unreachable. However, in the same way that God desires all to be with Him, He gives ample grace for us to do so. In the realm of prayer, God is always the initiator. We are always the responders. In moments we feel drawn to commune with God, it is He who first called. This should serve as a great consolation for us and a reminder that He carries the bulk of the load.
As a young adult, there can be a lot of uncertainty- where you will settle down, what career you will have, who you will marry, and so on. Prayer enables us to be rooted in the one thing that is always certain – the love and security of God. Though life is ever-changing, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever” (Hebrews 13:8). Praying gives us access to torrents of grace and keeps us grounded in peace.
In my personal experience, going from a college experience that was incredibly stable and exuberant to the unpredictability of life after graduation, I leaned heavily on prayer. I found it to be my steady rock amidst the uncertain. You go from walking along a set, marked trail to now having to trailblaze. Naturally, there is going to be a deeper need for strength and courage as you navigate your new life. Prayer is the perfect way to prepare and sustain oneself through it.
Habits are Powerful
Though prayer is indispensable, it is from here that we order our lives. We shape ourselves and our actions from the foundation of the love for God we have built through prayer. As St. Clare puts it, “We become what we love and who we love shapes what we become.” If we are consumed by love for God, it changes who we are.
The second means to live the faith out after college is through our habits. When certain actions become second nature to us, we refer to them as habits. The majority of our earthly lives consists in the routine we have built for ourselves. It is our responsibility to constantly work to reform and perfect these routines. While we are in college, most of our time is mapped out for us. We are given a schedule for classes and various activities. Of course, we still have to choose how we spend the rest of our time, but it can be easier to do so when we have friendships and activities constantly within our scope.
Once you graduate, your time is now your own. The habits you built up remain, but how you live them out now depends on your willingness and your new schedule. For me, I found keeping good habits close very helpful in making a smooth transition.
Just because your life may look very different on the outside does not mean it needs to look different on the inside. In times of transition, I would argue it is more important than ever to hold fast to firm dispositions. Uprooting good habits is never a good idea. Anchor yourself in the routines that lead to your flourishing – daily exercise, prayer, reading, whatever it may be. You will find that consistency in the midst of change will prove very helpful. If you do not have good routines in place, transition is the perfect opportunity for implementing new habits as it poses as a sort of clean slate.
Community is Essential
Lastly, never lose sight of the importance of community. God did not make us to walk alone. A man does not become a saint by himself. I know for me, going from a full, flourishing community in college to ground zero was difficult. College taught me firsthand that who I surrounded myself with impacts me deeply. The saying, “you are your three closest friends” rings very true. Seek out friendships in your adult life with people you would be comfortable trading souls with. Find people that inspire you to become the best version of yourself. Ask God for the grace to find these people but play your part. For me, putting myself in places where the kind of person I wanted to be friends with was most helpful – church, wholesome events, etc.
Closing Thoughts
Trailblazing, though difficult, is the adventure God calls us to and equips us for. While life post-grad can be unpredictable, one thing is for certain, God gives each of us the necessary grace to be the saint He is calling us to be in the present moment. Lean into prayer, shape your habits, and do so with others and you will find that this time of life is full of growth and immense joy. Surrender to God this time and He will shower you with abundant blessings. Know of my prayers for you during this time.
Clare is wife to John Burke and a 2024 graduate of Ave Maria University with a B.A. in Theology. She has experience teaching K–5 Religion and now lives in Great Falls, Virginia.
Sponsored: This article is made possible by The Elijah Institute, supporting quality and engaging Catholic content.
When we think of biblical heroes, we often picture prophets thundering truths before kings, parting clouds with miracles, and walking through fire with unwavering faith. Elijah fits that image—at least, at first glance. But Scripture doesn’t give us glossy, airbrushed Saints. It gives us real people. And Elijah? Elijah broke down.
His story is one of the clearest in the Bible about what we today would recognize as emotional collapse: anxiety, burnout, despair, even suicidal thoughts. He shows us that holiness and mental struggle are not opposites. They’re often companions.
And his story, now more than ever, speaks directly to those on the front lines of healing—doctors, nurses, counselors, first responders—those who bear others’ pain while quietly carrying their own.
Elijah’s Collapse: After the Fire Comes the Silence
Elijah’s public high point comes on Mount Carmel. In a head-to-head showdown with 450 prophets of Baal, Elijah calls down fire from heaven—and God answers. It’s the kind of moment you’d expect to come with a lifetime supply of spiritual confidence. But it doesn’t.
The very next chapter opens with Elijah running. Queen Jezebel threatens his life, and he flees into the desert, overwhelmed and undone. No followers. No plan. Just a prophet unraveling under the weight of everything.
He prays, “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers” (1 Kings 19:4). It’s one of the rawest prayers in all of Scripture.
Elijah had done everything right—and still, he hit a wall. It wasn’t a weakness. It was the human cost of doing the will of God in a broken world.
Elijah Fed by the Ravens by Paolo Fiammingo (between 1585 and 1589).
God Doesn’t Lecture. He Nourishes.
Here’s where things get profoundly beautiful. God doesn’t scold Elijah. He doesn’t give him a pep talk or demand that he pull himself together. He sends an angel. With a snack.
“Arise and eat,” the angel says, “or the journey will be too much for you” (1 Kings 19:7).
God tends to Elijah’s physical needs first: food, water, rest. Then again. And again. Only after Elijah’s body and spirit are gently restored does God speak—on Mount Horeb—not in fire or thunder, but in “a still small voice” (1 Kings 19:12).
This is a pattern worth noticing. God understands that healing the whole person—body, mind, and soul—takes time, nourishment, and silence.
Beyond Burnout: The Wounds of Those Who Heal
Elijah’s breakdown wasn’t just about fear. It was about exhaustion, conscience, and the weight of standing alone in truth. Today, we might call this moral injury —a term used to describe the trauma experienced not just from violence or stress, but from the deeper wounds that come when we carry burdens of conscience.
This kind of injury often shows up in those who work in healing ministries: doctors, nurses, first responders, therapists, clergy. These are the people who run toward pain. And like Elijah, they often find themselves emptied out after doing everything “right.”
Moral injury, at its root, is spiritual. It’s the aching question: Did I do enough? Did I do the right thing? Sacred moral injury goes even further—it touches the conscience. It’s a wound that doesn’t just need therapy; it needs forgiveness, reconciliation, and grace.
As one contributor to The Elijah Institute’s work shared in a recent conversation, many of the therapists they train encounter clients (and sometimes themselves) dealing with this very wound. It’s not just burnout. It’s soul-weariness.
The Catholic Response: Integrated, Personal, Sacramental
The Elijah Institute’s model—what they call BPSS-M: Biopsychosocial-Spiritual-Moral—is a Catholic approach to mental health that sees the person as a unity of body, mind, soul, and relationships. It acknowledges that some pain is physical, some emotional, some spiritual—and some moral.
This matters, especially for Catholic therapists. Because not every trauma heals through clinical work alone. Some needs must be named before God. Some wounds require absolution, or a return to the sacraments, or the courage to ask forgiveness.
Elijah’s story echoes this reality. His despair wasn’t irrational—it made sense given what he’d been through. But it also needed God’s personal response. A whisper. A call. A mission renewed.
The Restless Heart and the Path to Peace
St. Augustine, whose own conversion was marked by interior struggle, wrote, “You have made us for Yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.”
That restlessness shows up in our modern world in the form of anxiety, perfectionism, and relentless overcommitment. We chase success, affirmation, control—only to find ourselves under our own version of the broom tree, like Elijah, crying out in quiet despair.
But healing—true healing—comes when we let God into the silence. When we accept that therapy, nutrition, community, and prayer are not separate tools, but part of one great invitation: Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest (Matt. 11:28).
Not a Quick Fix, But a Real Hope
Elijah didn’t walk away from Mount Horeb with all his problems solved. He still had to walk his road, face kings, mentor Elisha, and trust again. But he wasn’t the same.
His story reminds us that even prophets cry out in exhaustion. Even saints feel despair. And the God who calls fire from Heaven is also the God who whispers in the dark.
If you or someone you love is walking through burnout, moral injury, or spiritual exhaustion, know this: you’re not alone. And you don’t have to figure it out by yourself.
Catholic therapists formed in integrated care, like those trained by The Elijah Institute, are helping men and women reconnect the dots between psychology and spirituality—between moral wounds and Divine Mercy. Healing isn’t always fast, but it’s always possible.
Final Thoughts
Elijah’s life is not just a tale from long ago. It’s a mirror for us. For those doing God’s work and wondering why it hurts so much. For those exhausted by goodness. For those who pray, “Lord, I’ve had enough.”
God hears. God feeds. God speaks.
And He still says to you today:
Arise and eat. The journey is long. But I am with you.
Thanks again to today’s article sponsor, The Elijah Institute! Learn more about how they’re equipping Catholic mental health professionals to care for the whole person—body, mind, and soul—through integrated, faith-filled training at The Elijah Institute.
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
