Lent is traditionally a time for prayer and fasting. This year, I am especially drawn to these words from my reading: “Fasting is the soul of prayer, mercy is the lifeblood of fasting. So, if you pray, fast; if you fast, show mercy; if you want your petition to be heard, hear the petition of others. If you do not close your ear to others, you open God’s ear to yourself.”
Sickness is always an unwelcome guest in the “home” of our bodies. Whether its visit is brief or long, expected or unanticipated, recognized or subtle, sickness’ knock on the door is one that no one wants to answer. Try as one may to keep it out, sickness eventually finds its way in and — like an obnoxious houseguest — takes over every room, leaving its hosts to wonder if it will ever leave. The analogy here, although not very poetic, makes the point for which it is intended.
Each year, the Catholic Church celebrates World Day for Consecrated Life. Instituted by Pope John Paul II in 1997, the commemoration is celebrated in conjunction with the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord, also known as Candlemas Day recognizing the coming of Christ, the Light of the World, through the symbolic blessing and lighting of candles
When a child is baptized in the Catholic Church, his/her parents, supported by godparents, make promises to help their child grow in the Church’s faith. Parents are their “first teachers,” their “first preachers” of the faith and, as a result, the family home becomes the “first Catholic school” and a “domestic Church.”
For the last several days, I have looked out my window in the cardiac care wing of Santo Spirito Hospital in Rome – the oldest hospital in Europe – only to see the dome of St. Peter's Basilica close by. For those who live here, this is an "ordinary" although still spectacular view. For me it is a powerful reminder of the faith of the Roman Catholic Church at its center. St. Peter's Basilica contains the tomb of St. Peter himself, the very vicar of Christ, and those of so many of his successors who steadfastly handed on and defended that faith.
I wake up very early most days. I rarely, if ever, have to set my alarm clock. I love the early morning when everything is peaceful and quiet. And in the silence of those first moments of the day, it seems that God and I have some of our best conversations.
The themes of the past four weeks like watch and pray … prepare the way of the Lord... God our Savior and Messiah is at hand ... Emmanuel, God with us … all alert us to the primary event in human history: the Word became Flesh – Jesus Christ, the Son of God and Son of Mary – dwelt among us and we have seen his glory again and again.
For most of us, the idea of “going home” brings eagerness, comfort and joy, whether it be simply after a long day at work or, in some cases, following a much longer period of separation. It's good to be home. When we walk up to the door of our home, we anticipate the good things behind it: family and loved ones waiting for us; things familiar to us; a place where we can be most truly ourselves, most truly “at home.”
In December 2018, I had the privilege of leading priests and lay faithful on a pilgrimage to the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico. It was an awesome and deeply moving experience, along with my fellow pilgrims, to kneel and pray in that beautiful church dedicated to the patroness of all the Americas. We watched as thousands of people, many who had traveled on foot from their homes throughout Mexico, bring their prayers and needs to our Lord through his Blessed Mother’s intercession.
John the Baptist is truly a remarkably important figure in the story of Advent and beyond. As a prophet and preacher, he is the end of the Old Testament and the beginning of the New.