John CallahanBedtime in our household is usually a quasi-pleasant time – baths, reading books, telling stories, and then prayer, before approximately six hundred excuses from our kids as to why my wife and I should not turn off the light and leave the room. I like to ask my four-year-old daughter or two-year-old son which prayer they would like to say just before turning off the light. My daughter will ask for “Mommy’s Prayer!” (Hail Mary) or “Daddy’s prayer!” (Glory Be), while my son will say something like “the Green one!” (I haven’t figured that out yet). What gives me greater pleasure, though, is when I’m asked to lead “our family’s prayer,” and we all begin, “Our Father Who art in heaven…” Throughout this year, the words “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done” have held greater weight each time I’ve recited our Lord’s Prayer. For nearly my entire life, I’ve said the words as two additional petitions; “Lord, please let your kingdom come… please let your will be done on earth…” And then I attempt to work to make it happen. I say it as if I can somehow work against the powers of the world to bring God’s Will where it is not. It’s sort of a compromise to the Creator: I “wish” for His Will and the coming of His kingdom, and then ask for things like daily bread, forgiveness, and deliverance to help us get there. As our planet struggles with the confusion of our leaders’ responses to new scandals such as another global pandemic and the anti-human, murderous actions carried out in our country and countries abroad, how much more fervently do we plead for the coming of God’s kingdom? How much more do we pray and bargain for His Will? But now I’m wondering, what do I think God’s kingdom on earth looks like? What is His Will? What am I really asking for? “Why hasn’t God’s will been done?” Personally, the canceling of public attendance at Mass, canceling graduation for our senior students, canceling non-essential jobs, canceling school, and canceling the most basic human need of social gathering in almost every aspect of our lives has slowly emptied me of motivation. I tend to bring these up in my daily petitions with God Almighty. In my vain hurt, I feel spite even for those who now invite me back to physically attend Mass, as if the Kingdom of Heaven is one remaining event that hasn’t been canceled. So I drop to my spiteful knees and pray Thy Will Be Done, and Thy Kingdom Come, then stand up to have a look around, hopeful that life will return to what I think it should be. Still cancellations. Still masks and fear and confusion and spite on the faces of my friends. Still, we are confused and afraid. “Why hasn’t God’s will been done?” “Where is his kingdom?” I ask myself. These worries come between us and our true source of life – the Mass. Often they even take the place of our daily reflection and time spent in quiet with the Holy Spirit. In retrospect, this is an absurd thought, to value our comfort instead of worship to the Lord. However, in my vanity, the two become one, and I begin screaming my prayers, “THY KINGDOM COME, THY WILL BE DONE ON EARTH,” and God’s silence becomes a scandal to me and my wants. In my daily life, traces of despair begin to appear through April, May, June. “How can we go on with ‘all of this stuff’ happening in the world today?” The powers of the world – and our selfishness - tell us that it is too much to hold onto the Cross; to set our lives aside and follow the Lord, whatever the cost. These worries push in from every side, like an ocean rising around my home built on sand. How much have you and I prayed for a turnaround in this year’s events, and yet God Himself is allowing the unease to occur? Last Wednesday, I was able to go to my local parish alone to be in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament. I nearly cried seeing the monstrance on the altar and feeling the cold air and silence of awe, filling the space for the first time in months. But I also felt a shudder creep over me. Something which caused me to physically tremble and lower my head further: I felt tremendous fear. There on the floor, staring at my God on the altar, I began to feel the terror of something much more devastating than what any scornful glance from masked grocery shoppers or any deadly biological pathogen might do: the fear of God, Our Father. As a funeral director, it didn’t take long to recall that very soon, this holy building will shelter my body at my own funeral. Will I take those earthly worries to my grave, or will I nail them to the Cross as Jesus did? How much have you and I prayed for a turnaround in this year’s events, and yet God Himself is allowing the unease to occur? We plead for ease, for relief, for health, for safety, in front of His Son nailed to the Cross. It is only through His Will that I can stand literally in front of His body and blood and worry about the comforts of my life. He holds in His Hand our specks of dust that we cling to even while praying at the foot of the Cross – and yet He loves us. How terrible a thought. “Forgive me,” I begged. Stepping out of the church, still at a loss, but nonetheless renewed in faith by the awe and fear of God, I trace the most significant sign of the greatest love across my chest and drive home. That evening, I kneel with my children to pray the Lord’s Prayer. I remember that the King Himself first uttered those words, “Thy kingdom come.” My thoughts turn to John the Herald crying in the desert, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!” (Mt 3:2, RSV). It is here already. “It is the Lord,” echoing the words of the Beloved Apostle but a few days after his master had died. "When I pray with my children, “…Thy will be done…” it is not just a petition..." I remember how Jesus of Nazareth asked the Father for relief and ease in the garden; “Father, all things are possible to thee: remove this chalice from me…” (Mk 14:36, Douay Rheims). How much do I beg God to remove these “awful” times from us? In reality, nothing that I might endure is comparable to the injustice brought upon Christ in His Passion. Jesus continued his prayer in the garden of Gethsemane, fully aware of the torture he was to endure: “…but not what I will; but what thou wilt” (Mk 14:36, Douay Rheims). God’s will is not just a future thought, but also a present reality, and it does not necessarily mean our comfort. His will is being done, whether I like it or not. We are not waiting without hope. This is not a godless hour. When I pray with my children, “…Thy will be done…” it is not just a petition that God brings forth his will on earth, but also an affirmation that I participate in His will and let it live in my heart, regardless of what I want. And when I conclude “deliver us from evil,” how much of that evil is the pride filling my own heart, taking up space owed to the will of God? “Amen,” say, my children, tucked into bed. My daughter makes the sign of the Cross as my son tries to follow. I tell them I love them and close the door. They sleep peacefully, and yet they have no idea what is going on in the world. A thought grabs me: it doesn’t matter. They sleep because they trust their dad, and that is enough for these little ones whose “angels behold the face of my Father in heaven” (Mt 18:10). From His silence had come God’s answer. May we all trust in Our Father, and that will bring us peace. Shannon Sonderman"Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one this I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for this prize of the upward call of God is Christ Jesus" I have always been a person leaning into the next thing in my life. Looking to the future helps me enjoy the present because I know where I am going or where I hope to go someday. I am a 25-year-old who has a 10 year and a 20-year life plan. Neither plan is super detailed, but there are things that I want to do in my life, and my life plan helps me stay focused on working towards those goals. As we get older, sometimes it is easy to fall into the mundane structure of our lives. We do not look for something new; new is scary and well unknown. We forget to press on towards the goal. We still think about those past goals from time to time, but there is just not enough time to focus on those goals. We are no longer searching for our path because we think that we have found it. Looking back at our childhood, people were continually asking us what we wanted to do when we grow up. We were always pressing onward towards the next event or school milestone. We were challenged with creating all the goals that we could think of. As children, we do not have the means to achieve many of our dreams, and others lose importance. Many plans are only able to be completed by an adult who can make their own choices. For example, I have wanted to be a teacher for almost my whole life. When I was graduating from pre-school, a goal of mine was to be just like my teacher. She was kind, compassionate, and loving. When we are old enough, we sometimes lose sight of past goals. Sometimes, when we can make our own choices, our goals have to take a back seat to the lives we must live for the sake of personal responsibilities. I believe that our lives should be driven by God, family, and our goals; in that order. We must press on towards the goal and prize of eternity with God. To get to God, we must show His love in everything that we do here on Earth. I'm not talking about huge things like solving world hunger, but in our everyday lives by being a window to Christ. Through our actions each day of our lives, we can show every person we meet who we, ourselves, are striving to serve…God. "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him and he will make straight your path." God is looking out for us. He can help us on our paths' to reach him. We can find our purpose in life, our calling, our vocation, and our plan through our devotion to God. Calling upon God in every moment of my life for guidance, strength, and grace is how I hope to straighten my path. I am educated and have grown up in the Catholic Faith; I have a false sense of knowledge. It is easy to assume that I understand what is best for myself. That is where I am wrong. From the above verses, I need to remember to not lean on my understanding, but to acknowledge God. His way is not our way.
In acknowledging him, I call him into my life and ask for his support and advice to lead this humble servant. With His aid, working in union with Him, I can achieve my goals, and maybe the plans will change over time, and that is alright. A change in a goal is not the death of it, but the development of a different opportunity. "Trust in the Lord" four simple words that are so hard for me to remember. I am a planner, and I like having a plan; I also understand nothing about the future. The future is not now, and I can plan for different future options, but I will not know what will happen until God's grace unfolds in the present. I will not be able to prepare for every change in my life, but when I lean on my past experiences, I can learn from them and continue onward to the prize. Change is hard, but change is also good. "I press on toward the goal for this prize of the upward call of God is Christ Jesus". Kathryn Shema |
St. Patrick - Reconcillation | ST. JOSEPH - Reconciliation | St. Margaret Mary - Reconciliation |
Remember, brothers and sisters, the next time you are feeling pain and loneliness, remind yourself that we are part of the whole Body of Christ, and when one part of the Body hurts, we all feel it.
“Nourished with his Body in the Eucharist, we already belong to the Body of Christ. When we rise on the last day, we ‘also will appear with him in glory.’ In expectation of that day, the believer’s Body and soul already participate in the dignity of belonging to Christ. This dignity entails the demand that he should treat with respect his own Body, but also the Body of every other person, especially the suffering: The Body [is meant] for the Lord, and the Lord for the Body. And God raised the Lord and will also raise us up by his power. Do you not know that your bodies are members of Christ?... You are not your own...So, glorify God in your body” (CCC, 1003-1004).
Therefore, you are never alone in your loneliness or brokenness. Bring your fears, loneliness, sorrows, and pain to Jesus, because he wants to sit with you in that. He wants to heal those wounds that keep you up at night. He wants to share your joys and sorrows. For when you are hurting my dear brothers and sisters, we all hurt. The whole Body of Christ hurts.
P.S. You are not alone.
With great love,
Kathryn
Lucy Herth
Graduate and a personally Invited Christian
I was raised in a small catholic town and was the type of person who went to church every Sunday because that is what your parents told you to do. I would not say I had a relationship with Jesus personally, but I knew who he was. I had some catholic friends that would go to things with me, like youth group events, but I had an "I would only go if they would go" type of mentality.
In 2016, the summer before I went to college, I attended Would Youth Day in Krakow, Poland. This was such a blessing because I fell deeply in love with the Catholic Church and wanted to be Catholic for myself and not just because my family was. It was the first time I experienced young people genuinely excited about their faith. They expressed this overwhelming joy within them that was so attractive, and I wanted that in my life!
I was on fire for my faith, but reflecting back, I do not think I understood what it meant to have a relationship with Christ. I attended Mass a lot and prayed the rosary. However, I could not find friends who would go to events with me. As my first year of college went on, I filled my time with other things besides Christ and his church. I still attended Mass, but I often was by myself.
I have always had amazing friends in high school and college! Friends who love me for me. One of those personal characteristics that my closest friends are aware of is that I prefer to not make plans. I was the girl who would hang out in her room on Friday night instead of asking someone to come over. Thankfully, I am incredibly blessed, and my friends who knew that were the ones to invite me or invite themselves to hang out with me. I never struggled with making good friends who shared similar values with me. That was until I had to start over and all alone.
In the spring of 2018, I studied aboard in Ireland. Although I put on a face for my friends and families back home, my first month there was extremely hard for me. I went by myself. I had to start over making friends, get out of my comfort zone, and ask people to hang out or worse, invite myself to hang out with them.
My roommate and her friends were so lovely, and they let me hang out with them. However, they did not really share the same values as me, and I did not want to change who I was. I did not find it enjoyable to go to pubs every night. After a couple of weeks, I started becoming a little depressed and incredibly lonely, which are two things I had never experienced before. I probably cried every night that first month… I tried making new friends, but no luck. I honestly just wanted a church buddy. I went every weekend and some during the week, and there was no other young person (I was attending at the wrong time).
I was indeed friend-sick, and my friends that also studied abroad had a similar experience. One of these friends knew someone in Ireland, and they were Catholic! After spending time praying and starting a devotion to our blessed mother, I began to meet a lot of young Catholics. Through a chain of events and meeting different people, I ended up at an event and drinking tea afterward (how Irish of me). At this event, which was at my school I was attending, I met a group of girls who would come to change my life forever.
How did they change my life? Well, it was a simple invitation to the Breakfast Club. The Breakfast Club was a small group that would go to Mass in the morning and had porridge (oatmeal in American term) and tea afterward. We even made shirts! Because Jesus did say, "come and have breakfast."
I was indeed friend-sick, and my friends that also studied abroad had a similar experience. One of these friends knew someone in Ireland, and they were Catholic! After spending time praying and starting a devotion to our blessed mother, I began to meet a lot of young Catholics. Through a chain of events and meeting different people, I ended up at an event and drinking tea afterward (how Irish of me). At this event, which was at my school I was attending, I met a group of girls who would come to change my life forever.
How did they change my life? Well, it was a simple invitation to the Breakfast Club. The Breakfast Club was a small group that would go to Mass in the morning and had porridge (oatmeal in American term) and tea afterward. We even made shirts! Because Jesus did say, "come and have breakfast."
Now, this was not just "any" invitation. Like most of you, we all have been "invited" to go to an event of some sort before. I usually do not go to things by myself, and especially if I do not know anyone. This invitation was different to me because they did not just say, "Hey! You should come to Mass and have breakfast" They said, "Hey Lucy! We are going to go to Mass and eat breakfast in the morning, would you like TO COME WITH US? We even live right by you and we can WALK TOGETHER".
Now that is precisely what I was longing for. My prayers were finally answered, and might I add abundantly! I was just looking for friends to go to Mass on Sunday with, but hey, we ended up going every day and doing so much more to grow in our faith. I learn so much from these girls, my seminarian friends I made, and the community that we hung out around. I learned what authentic friendship is and how an invitation to enter someone's life can have a powerful impact. We are not just growing in friendship, but we are also challenging and leading each other to Christ. I finally understood what it meant to have a relationship with Christ and be a true disciple of his.
My last week in Ireland, I was listening to my priest's homily from back home. The sermon was about an atmosphere of welcoming vs. inviting within a parish. This homily assisted the reflection on my experience that I had so far in college and abroad. Father Jonathan Meyer, said we need to be Christian people who are inviting, and not just welcoming. He gave the two definitions. Inviting means making a polite, formal, or friendly request to someone to go somewhere or do something. Welcoming means to greet someone who is arriving in a glad, polite, or friendly way.
The Lord left us with the Great Commission. Jesus commanded us to go out and make disciples of all nations. He did not tell us to just wait, and people will come. Being an inviting person presupposes that you are a welcoming person, but being welcoming does not mean you are necessarily inviting. We have to ask ourselves when was the last time you invited someone to enter into your life. I ask you to be the person to invite someone to a meal like my friends in Ireland did, to just spending time together, to go on a mission trip, a pilgrimage, or a retreat. That one invitation can be a triggering event in someone's life to make them a disciple of Jesus. As a missionary disciple, we are called to invite people into discipleship and relationship with Jesus Christ. Go out and change lives. Go out and help others to experience Christ with you!
Mt 28:16-20:
Maria Smith
Artist and scholar for Christ
Dear reader,
Have you ever just needed a hug. As if your whole day could be fixed if you were only held by someone you cared for. Or when you were a child, and you hurt yourself or felt scared, and your mother or father would rap you in a hug and make you feel safe and warm. I think often we forget how nice a simple form of human contact can really make us feel. That is until we can't have it anymore.
We, as humans, need to be in contact with other humans. Even the Lord God said, "It is not good for man to be alone." As babies, we need to be held, or we will die. And we continue to need a connection with people through our lives. You may have never thought about how even the smallest form of physical touch from someone means till you can't have it anymore.
As we are going through this pandemic, we are forced to be separated from friends and family. No longer was it wise to greet others with a handshake or a hug. When you haven't seen a dear friend in a long time, even if you saw each other, you still had to stay distant. This longing to show someone you care for them with a small sign of affection is something I think we don't really think about until the ability to do so is taken away.
When thinking of a lost loved one, some of us may think about how it felt to be touched by them. How it felt having their hand pat you on the back when you needed to be told, "good job!". Or, how it felt to hug them when you haven't seen them in a while.
And now, we find ourselves having been asked to stay socially-distanced from those we love. Even worse still, being separate those we were even starting to build relationships with. It becomes more apparent how much we miss these individuals when we are unable to have physical combat.
I have been longing to have physical contact with others during this time of separation and isolation. Sadly, this comes mainly at my sister's expense. I often have annoyed her with how much I touch and pick on her. As much as I love my siblings and my parents, I have found that I truly need all those individuals that I have made friends and close connections with. I guess I've always known how much I needed others. And yet this time apart from everyone has really helped me see that God places people in our lives because he knows we need them. We may not know we are in need of them, but the Lord God does. And he gives us the opportunity for us to grow closer to these people.
With the upcoming semester about to start, I am getting rather excited to see my friends and reconnect with them. I am very grateful for all the people God has put in my life. I only pray that he continues to place people in my life to enable me to feel God's love. I pray that when I greet someone with a hug, it is a hug that makes them feel safe and warm.
I have been told that I am a "good hugger." After this pandemic, we all might appreciate a friendly hug from those we love most.
But until then, I ask you to remember that God is always holding you close to his heart. And our mother, Mary, is still ready to rap you in her mantle and bring you to her immaculate heart and through her heart to the sacred heart of Jesus. In this time apart from people here in the physical world, we can and should still long to feel God's arms wrapped around us and holding us close. And, we can find this direct connection to God in prayer.
May you always find peace and love in Christ and those who love him.
much love,
Maria Smith
Dear reader,
Have you ever just needed a hug. As if your whole day could be fixed if you were only held by someone you cared for. Or when you were a child, and you hurt yourself or felt scared, and your mother or father would rap you in a hug and make you feel safe and warm. I think often we forget how nice a simple form of human contact can really make us feel. That is until we can't have it anymore.
We, as humans, need to be in contact with other humans. Even the Lord God said, "It is not good for man to be alone." As babies, we need to be held, or we will die. And we continue to need a connection with people through our lives. You may have never thought about how even the smallest form of physical touch from someone means till you can't have it anymore.
As we are going through this pandemic, we are forced to be separated from friends and family. No longer was it wise to greet others with a handshake or a hug. When you haven't seen a dear friend in a long time, even if you saw each other, you still had to stay distant. This longing to show someone you care for them with a small sign of affection is something I think we don't really think about until the ability to do so is taken away.
When thinking of a lost loved one, some of us may think about how it felt to be touched by them. How it felt having their hand pat you on the back when you needed to be told, "good job!". Or, how it felt to hug them when you haven't seen them in a while.
And now, we find ourselves having been asked to stay socially-distanced from those we love. Even worse still, being separate those we were even starting to build relationships with. It becomes more apparent how much we miss these individuals when we are unable to have physical combat.
I have been longing to have physical contact with others during this time of separation and isolation. Sadly, this comes mainly at my sister's expense. I often have annoyed her with how much I touch and pick on her. As much as I love my siblings and my parents, I have found that I truly need all those individuals that I have made friends and close connections with. I guess I've always known how much I needed others. And yet this time apart from everyone has really helped me see that God places people in our lives because he knows we need them. We may not know we are in need of them, but the Lord God does. And he gives us the opportunity for us to grow closer to these people.
With the upcoming semester about to start, I am getting rather excited to see my friends and reconnect with them. I am very grateful for all the people God has put in my life. I only pray that he continues to place people in my life to enable me to feel God's love. I pray that when I greet someone with a hug, it is a hug that makes them feel safe and warm.
I have been told that I am a "good hugger." After this pandemic, we all might appreciate a friendly hug from those we love most.
But until then, I ask you to remember that God is always holding you close to his heart. And our mother, Mary, is still ready to rap you in her mantle and bring you to her immaculate heart and through her heart to the sacred heart of Jesus. In this time apart from people here in the physical world, we can and should still long to feel God's arms wrapped around us and holding us close. And, we can find this direct connection to God in prayer.
May you always find peace and love in Christ and those who love him.
much love,
Maria Smith
Kaitlyn Lenne
Daughter of God and natural-born teacher
Firstly, Happy Father's Day to all the men out there that have supported, loved, and cared for loved ones! Whether you are a father or not, I welcome you to reflect on your paternal influences throughout your life as I reflect on mine.
My dad has always been there for me from cutting my hair when I was younger and picking me up when my car breaks down. He has taught me how to drive, change a tire, make the perfect gravy for dinner, and, most importantly, give of yourself to those surrounding me. He has always been a person of giving. When volunteering his time to help build houses to serving food at the local homeless shelter, he always taught us that giving is better than receiving. And let me tell you that this makes it extremely difficult to give him gifts for the holidays! We always have to bug him to make a list when, in reality, the ultimate gift was a quiet day without my sisters and I annoying him with SpongeBob SquarePants quotes.
My dad has always been there for me from cutting my hair when I was younger and picking me up when my car breaks down. He has taught me how to drive, change a tire, make the perfect gravy for dinner, and, most importantly, give of yourself to those surrounding me. He has always been a person of giving. When volunteering his time to help build houses to serving food at the local homeless shelter, he always taught us that giving is better than receiving. And let me tell you that this makes it extremely difficult to give him gifts for the holidays! We always have to bug him to make a list when, in reality, the ultimate gift was a quiet day without my sisters and I annoying him with SpongeBob SquarePants quotes.
Now, I will say many of the presents he got for his birthday or Christmas were pretty predictable. There are endless ties, coffee cups, tools, and all of your typical "dad" gifts. I think his list got more creative after I gave him a "Jar of Nothing" because that is what he said he wanted, nothing. It was quite literally an empty jar. I don't know if he loved that gift as much as I did, but he still has it on his shelf, so I think that says something (maybe a reminder to be careful what you wish for?)! It is hard to give someone a thoughtful gift when he gives the best gift every day, the gift of unconditional love. No matter what I do, he is always there to (loudly) support me!
Come this Father's Day, I have had the chance to reflect on all the gifts I have given him. It makes me wonder, what do you give to a father who has given you everything? How does a simple tie or coffee cup compare to the gift of life? How does a simple, "Happy Father's Day" honor all that he has done for me? Whether you have a father figure on earth or not, you do have the best one of all, in Heaven. God, our Father in Heaven, is the perfect Father and the best gift we have been given. He helps us up when we fall short, welcomes us home with open arms, and most importantly, loves us unconditionally.
A perfect example of a father's love is in the gospel Luke 15:17-24, The Prodigal Son.
"Coming to his senses the youngest son thought, 'How many of my Father's hired workers have more than enough food to eat, but here am I, dying from hunger. I shall get up and go to my Father and I shall say to him, "Father, I have sinned against Heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son; treat me as you would treat one of your hired workers."' So he got up and went back to his Father. While he was still a long way off, his Father caught sight of him, and was filled with compassion. He ran to his son, embraced him and kissed him. His son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you; I no longer deserve to be called your son.' But his Father ordered his servants, 'Quickly bring the finest robe and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Take the fattened calf and slaughter it. Then let us celebrate with a feast, because this son of mine was dead, and has come to life again; he was lost, and has been found.' "
"He ran to his son, embraced him, and kissed him." The Father didn't roll his eyes or turn his son away. He simply welcomed him home. He did what our Holy Father does for us time and time again, he welcomes us home even when we feel like we should be banished. The younger son was shocked by his Father's reaction. Why would my Father take me back after all I have done against him? Why does he love me after seeing who I became? If you had the opportunity to ask the Father in that story what the best gift he has ever received was, it wouldn't be a tie or coffee cup. It would be when his son came home. Wouldn't that be the best gift you could give God today, simply just coming home? With all that has been happening in our world today, you might not physically be able to visit him in his house this Sunday. However, the beautiful gift he has given you is that he has made you the Church. God is ever-present in and around you. Wherever you find yourself today, that ground is holy. When you center yourself towards God, your very life is an act of worshiping him. Every time you mention his name, you are home.
This right here shows us what fatherly love is. Our Holy Father sees us for who we truly are, and still, we are invited to the holy feast. When it comes to giving gifts, God gave the best one to you. He gave his only son over to be crucified for your sake. Now I don't know about you, but if that is what he gave you as a present, what kind of present can you give him to top that? In the hustle of your day, find a moment to thank Our Heavenly Father for the many gifts he has given us every day and think, what can I give him for Father's Day?
This Father's Day, let us be grateful for:
-Our fathers, by birth or adoption, who love us and support us through life.
-Our church leaders, who take on the paternal role of guiding us through life.
-God, our Father, who will always teach justly and grant us boundless mercy.
May you always remember the best gift is not always wrapped in a box with a cute little bow. Sometimes the best gift of all is love. May God bless us all and help us to lead with love!
-Kaitlyn Lenne
Catherine Smith
Student of the New Evangelization and Theological Studies
This past August, I loaded my tiny car up with all the possessions I own to road trip across the country. Leaving Illinois and my entire “village” of family and friends behind, I responded to a call that the Lord placed on my heart to move to Denver, Colorado. After just two weeks of living in the mile-high city, the chaplain of my graduate school invited me on a Saturday morning hike. Responding “yes” to his email, I had no idea the impact this day in the mountains would have on my spiritual life.
At 3:30 am, my roommates and I crawled out of bed, chugged coffee, grabbed our gear, and set off for the mountains with the rest of the crew. As we pulled up to the trailhead of Mount Flora around 5:30, we had a 6-mile hike ahead of us. I realized quickly into our journey that I was still not acclimated to the altitude of Colorado, had not packed enough clothing for warmth, did not bring enough water or snacks, and was far more out of shape than I thought. When I signed up for a 6-mile hike, I never took the time to research that we would end at a 13,132-foot elevation. This hike was about to humble me greatly.
About a half-hour into the hike, I had to take a break almost every three steps so I could try to breathe without wheezing noises. The trail to the top consisted of a “narrow path,” forcing us to walk in a single file line throughout the majority of the hike. I hardly spoke to anyone in the group, partially due to being in single file, but mostly because I was afraid of passing out if I tried to talk, breathe, and walk all at the same. It was so windy throughout the hike that my lips dried up, my fingers went numb, and I was just cold. I overall believe my many embarrassing moments throughout this hike could land me a front-page spot in the “Hiking for Dummies” manual on what you should not do when summiting a mountain. After hiking for a long time, I saw what I thought was Mount Flora’s summit. As I made it over the hill, I saw… a false peak. As we passed over the false summit and saw the correct peak ahead of us this time, I finally recognized how many other people were very slowly inching forward in our hike as well. We were struggling together.
After an hour and a half climb, seeing the top filled me with so much relief. The sun was shining, and everyone was smiling. My climb to the top of Mount Flora entailed a deep and personal reflection of whether my legs would work after the day came to an end. Additionally, my time standing on the summit of my first “13’er” in Colorado consisted of a deep and personal reflection of my journey with the Lord. We sat on the top of the mountain for about an hour in prayer with a view that genuinely took my breath away (it also could have been the altitude that left me with no breath… I’ll leave that up to you to decide). All the mental and physical struggles that I endured while hiking Mount Flora culminated in great awe and wonder at the Lord’s Creation. “It was worth it,” I kept thinking to myself. I sat at the top of the mountain recognizing the analogy for my life in Christ, striving to climb the mountain toward holiness. This humbling, but beautiful hike was beginning to change the way I understand my journey towards Heaven.
As I began the hike unprepared, slightly humiliated, exhausted, and filled with second guesses of whether the hike was “worth it,” I started my life in Christ, feeling like I had no idea what I was getting myself into. The darkness of a 5:30 am hike compares to the darkness of my heart when Jesus first began to call me to deeper communion with Him. The lack of snacks and water I packed compares to the lack of daily prayer, sacramental nourishment, and formation I began with as my conversion towards discipleship initially sparked. My struggles throughout the hike relate to the countless struggles I have endured in choices to let go of many sins, attachments, and worldly desires that have clouded my desire for the Lord. The “narrow path” we hiked relates to the moments in my life I have had to sacrifice things to walk on the narrow path that God desires for each of us (Mt 7:13-14; Lk 13:23-25).
As I began the hike unprepared, slightly humiliated, exhausted, and filled with second guesses of whether the hike was “worth it,” I started my life in Christ, feeling like I had no idea what I was getting myself into. The darkness of a 5:30 am hike compares to the darkness of my heart when Jesus first began to call me to deeper communion with Him. The lack of snacks and water I packed compares to the lack of daily prayer, sacramental nourishment, and formation I began with as my conversion towards discipleship initially sparked. My struggles throughout the hike relate to the countless struggles I have endured in choices to let go of many sins, attachments, and worldly desires that have clouded my desire for the Lord. The “narrow path” we hiked relates to the moments in my life I have had to sacrifice things to walk on the narrow path that God desires for each of us (Mt 7:13-14; Lk 13:23-25).
The false summit we encountered compares to moments where I have pridefully believed I “arrived” at holiness or rid myself of an unhealthy attachment… only to realize the smallness of myself compared to the perfection, I am called to (Mt 5:48); when I sin or fall again. Looking in front and behind me to see the rest of the crew all struggling together helped me recognize the communal life we share as Christians in this pilgrimage home. We strive together, and we summit together. This is the beauty of the Body of Christ. There are so many moments throughout my hike on Mount Flora where I see the Lord at work in my heart to show me that the scraped knees, wheezing instead of breathing, numb fingers, and so much more relate to our childlike climb back to the Father’s arms. We struggle much, especially at certain stages of the journey, but we trust that He is with us, and we trust the challenging climb will someday end.
Throughout my hike, I had a deep desire to summit the mountain regardless of if it took me all day. In the same way, the hope I have for Heaven makes every struggle and sacrifice worth the journey because I trust that the summit will be worth it. One of the most significant battles we face in our spiritual hike with the Lord is having the longing and determination to continue moving forward amidst the narrow path, the trials, and the moments where we fall. This desire and confidence must be put at the forefront of our minds to stand back up after falling, even though our legs feel like they might give out, and embrace the path towards Heaven, which is the fulfillment of our hearts deepest longing (CCC 1023).
As I continue to hike Colorado mountains, I look back on my first intense hike with gratitude for the prayerful reflection it has given to my soul and the humility it has taught me about my spiritual life’s progress. In continuing to hike the mountain of life here on earth, my day on Mount Flora helps me to remember that one day the summit of Heaven will come. May the Lord increase our desire for intimacy with Him in this life and for eternity with Him after. May our false summits, side aches from the lack of oxygen, struggles along the way, and moments of deep humility aid in our sanctification and journey towards Heaven.
Let us pray for the grace to keep climbing! Verso l’alto!
friar Ian Bremar, OFM Conv.
Pastoral Associate for University Ministry
Alone on Mount Horeb, having fled for his life from Jezebel and her forces, the voice of the Lord comes to the prophet Elijah and asks, “Why are you here?” (1 Kings 19:9, 13).
When I was first discerning a vocation to the Conventual Franciscan friars, Bro. Tim Unser gave me Chapter 19 from 1 Kings to read and reflect upon. At that time I was only nineteen years old - still a teenager - and charmed by the image of God coming to Elijah, not in the wind, earthquake, or fire, but in the small whispering sound. I don’t think I contemplated much on why I was there on retreat with a vocation director. Rather, I was struck that God does not always communicate in grand or obvious ways. It was a comfort to me, for though I felt called to the Franciscans and wanted to become a religious brother, there were no ostentatious signs pointing me in that direction from on high. Perhaps only a still, quiet voice. Yet the question, "Why are you here?", would plague my mind both consciously and subconsciously throughout my time in formation.
Cut to seven years later - the summer before I would profess solemn vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience as a Friar Minor Conventual. I was landing back in San Antonio, TX after five weeks of studying Spanish in Costa Rica. Just a few days later I was going to take yet another flight, this time for a pilgrimage to Italy. Standing in the airport terminal ladened with bags and hundreds of strangers passing by, an overwhelming thought crossed my mind: It feels like so much of my life has been an effort to get away. Away from what, I couldn’t tell you, but unlike Elijah, I at least knew I wasn’t fleeing Jezebel’s soldiers. On pilgrimage, though, that familiar query, "Why are you here?", resurfaced and leaned its annoying head on my shoulder.
As friars all preparing to profess solemn vows our pilgrimage group dove into our Franciscan heritage, soaking in the sites significant to our founder and cherished by the saints of our order - Rome, Greccio, La Verna, Rivo Torto, and of course Assisi. We visited breath-taking shrines and humble chapels, and every place filled me with joy and a deeper intimacy with St. Francis and Jesus, our Lord and brother. I would be remiss, however, if I didn’t admit that perhaps the most savored part of the experience was all the delectable Italian food. But I was there for more than just sacred sites and sumptuous fare. I was searching. Though final profession was less than two months away, I was hoping that some excursion to one of St. Francis’ beloved sanctuaries would affirm that I was where I was supposed to be, that I was indeed called to be a friar, and that I would have some sense as to why.
On one such outing we were given the entire afternoon to hike about the Carceri on Mt. Subasio above Assisi. The natural grottos among the forest were favored places of hermitage for Francis and the early friars. I preferred these opportunities when we were expected to be alone for prayer and reflection, and finding a resting spot on the trail, I cracked open my Bible and ate my sack lunch. I turned to the passage Bro. Tim had given me on my discernment retreat seven years prior, the one I had already chosen to have read at my solemn profession: 1 Kings 19.
When I was first discerning a vocation to the Conventual Franciscan friars, Bro. Tim Unser gave me Chapter 19 from 1 Kings to read and reflect upon. At that time I was only nineteen years old - still a teenager - and charmed by the image of God coming to Elijah, not in the wind, earthquake, or fire, but in the small whispering sound. I don’t think I contemplated much on why I was there on retreat with a vocation director. Rather, I was struck that God does not always communicate in grand or obvious ways. It was a comfort to me, for though I felt called to the Franciscans and wanted to become a religious brother, there were no ostentatious signs pointing me in that direction from on high. Perhaps only a still, quiet voice. Yet the question, "Why are you here?", would plague my mind both consciously and subconsciously throughout my time in formation.
Cut to seven years later - the summer before I would profess solemn vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience as a Friar Minor Conventual. I was landing back in San Antonio, TX after five weeks of studying Spanish in Costa Rica. Just a few days later I was going to take yet another flight, this time for a pilgrimage to Italy. Standing in the airport terminal ladened with bags and hundreds of strangers passing by, an overwhelming thought crossed my mind: It feels like so much of my life has been an effort to get away. Away from what, I couldn’t tell you, but unlike Elijah, I at least knew I wasn’t fleeing Jezebel’s soldiers. On pilgrimage, though, that familiar query, "Why are you here?", resurfaced and leaned its annoying head on my shoulder.
As friars all preparing to profess solemn vows our pilgrimage group dove into our Franciscan heritage, soaking in the sites significant to our founder and cherished by the saints of our order - Rome, Greccio, La Verna, Rivo Torto, and of course Assisi. We visited breath-taking shrines and humble chapels, and every place filled me with joy and a deeper intimacy with St. Francis and Jesus, our Lord and brother. I would be remiss, however, if I didn’t admit that perhaps the most savored part of the experience was all the delectable Italian food. But I was there for more than just sacred sites and sumptuous fare. I was searching. Though final profession was less than two months away, I was hoping that some excursion to one of St. Francis’ beloved sanctuaries would affirm that I was where I was supposed to be, that I was indeed called to be a friar, and that I would have some sense as to why.
On one such outing we were given the entire afternoon to hike about the Carceri on Mt. Subasio above Assisi. The natural grottos among the forest were favored places of hermitage for Francis and the early friars. I preferred these opportunities when we were expected to be alone for prayer and reflection, and finding a resting spot on the trail, I cracked open my Bible and ate my sack lunch. I turned to the passage Bro. Tim had given me on my discernment retreat seven years prior, the one I had already chosen to have read at my solemn profession: 1 Kings 19.
I was once again amused by the angel imploring Elijah to eat. Food had always been a significant feature of my Franciscan experience, and this pilgrimage was no exception. I also realized that not once but twice in the chapter a heavenly voice asks Elijah why he is there, and this especially resonated with me. Deep within my soul, I had been asking myself that same question throughout the pilgrimage. The prophet responds on both occasions that he fled because of persecution for his fidelity to the Lord. I wasn’t being persecuted, but I was reminded of that haunting notion that came to me at the airport between these two trips abroad. So much of my life had felt like an effort to get away. More questions ran through my mind. Had I been running from something? A dysfunctional family? The world? Myself? And where was I going, anyway? How was I being called to minister as a friar? I wrestled with some of these questions, but I also recognized that the whole pilgrimage had seemed like a metaphor for my vocational journey. I go where I am led, not knowing what I’ll do or what I’ll find. As for a small whispering sound, like Elijah’s experience on Mt. Horeb, something akin to that was yet to come.
A few days later I ventured to the Bosco di San Francesco, a forest just beyond the wall near the Basilica of St. Francis. I had expectations. For one, and this is embarrassing to confess, but I kind of thought being a friar would allow me to enter the forest grounds free of charge - or at least with a discount. I thought the trek alone through the woods would be full of gorgeous views and fill me with profound insights about my vocation. And I assumed that the trail would be circular, ending where it began. But I was wrong on nearly all accounts. Indeed, I paid full price, and admittedly the forest and olive groves, though lovely, were not especially spectacular. Nevertheless, onward I walked in the misty July humidity. Surely the trail would wind itself around. But no. It just kept going down the hill, and I kept getting farther and farther away from the city of Assisi, breathless and sweaty.
At last I came upon the ruined walls that had once surrounded a monastery, and waiting at the end of the road was a little chapel - the Church of Santa Croce. I had journeyed all that way and knew I would have to trudge all the way back uphill in order to return. Though time was short, I had to go inside the chapel. It would be my only reward for all my efforts. I knelt down in the quiet nave of this tiny and nondescript church. The only bit of artwork in the sparse sanctuary was a fresco of the Blessed Mother and St. Helena gesturing to an empty cross.
I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little dejected. All that hiking, all that time, and I still had to do it all over again in reverse to get back. I breathed in deeply, sighed, and looked up at that cross. Of course it would be a cross. What could be more appropriate? I didn’t have much time to pray there, as I needed to return to the pilgrimage group for vespers. If I had so much wanted an answer to all the doubts and qualms I had about being a friar, the plain and simple cross had to be it, and there probably could be nothing better. This was not a Paul-on-the-road-to-Damascus kind of theophany, but maybe it was that small, whispering sound.
As I hiked back up the hill to Assisi, I mulled over that modest little church and fresco. It was a sobering return trip. I felt a little bit like the disillusioned, young Francis as depicted in the statue perched across from the basilica. Nothing about this excursion met my expectations. (I didn’t even get a discount.) But God seemed to be telling me to let go of my expectations - expectations for grandeur, for answers and insights, and even for life experiences to make sense. If we follow Christ, whether as religious or laity, we follow him to the cross, which is the ultimate “letting go,” the utmost self-emptying.
Upon much later reflection on Elijah, I noticed that after the theophany on Mt. Horeb the prophet slowly fades from the larger narrative of 1 & 2 Kings. Like John the Baptist, he must decrease despite his zeal for the Lord. And as I think more about that question which had plagued my mind - “Why are you here?” - and the only semblance of answer I got in that barren sanctuary at the end of a lengthy trail, I don’t think that question matters so much. Our vocations in life are not really about us, but if we follow our call to its greatest end we will encounter the cross in some form or other, and with grace we’ll fade away and let Christ be all in all.
Brittany Detamore
proud wife of a “superdad”
Dear Mothers, Wives, and Sisters,
It’s amusing. I honestly never thought, nor did I really have any desire to write a reflection for the FRAYAM page. Nevertheless, I am finding myself called to issue yet another reflection. My first reflection was inspired by an indispensable man in my life who changed my perspective in many respects and brought me closer to Christ, my son Rhett. However, there was (and still is) a man before Rhett who transformed my heart and made me whole; a man who I don’t tend to give enough credit and a man I am immensely honored to have at my side, my husband, Brad.
I must admit I am one blessed lady, one of the “lucky ones,” you could say, to have found such a truly amazing man in Brad. Aside from being a genuinely good man and an overall human being, he compliments me in all the right ways. He is sensitive when I am rough, the voice of reason when I am obstinate, calm when I am frantic, caring when I am hurting, and he is painfully honest when I need to hear the truth. He is my rock, yet he understands that I am a fully capable woman. In short, he is the “Jim” to my “Pam.” As cliché as that may sound, it is the honest truth, and I am incredibly fortunate to have found someone who makes me whole. Someone who makes me a better version of myself. Don’t get me wrong, Brad is not perfect, but that’s not the point. Though he may not be perfect, he’s perfect for me. I can truthfully say I am a better woman, mother, friend, and overall individual because of Brad.
I find it quite funny. I can openly and genuinely express these sentiments about my husband. I can’t verify if he knows that I feel this way because I can’t recall the last time I expressed my feelings of adoration and appreciation to him directly. I tend to get caught up in my own daily struggle of cleaning the house, running errands, grocery shopping, taking Rhett to therapy, dropping Rhett off at school, picking Rhett up from school, attending doctor visits, all while working full-time. It’s a lot, so admittedly I get a little self-involved. However, through all that Brad is right there with me cleaning the house, running errands, grocery shopping, taking Rhett to therapy, dropping Rhett off at school, picking Rhett up from school, attending doctor visits also while working full-time.
As a woman and a mother, I find that I receive social praise and affirmation for being a nurturer and caregiver. Furthermore, as a working mother and wife, I often find that I am unjustly dubbed as a “wonder woman” or “supermom”. While I know there are MANY “wonder women” and “supermoms” out there, as I have the pleasure of knowing a few, I do feel that title is unjustly bestowed on me, simply because I am a mother. Now, please don’t misunderstand: mothers are absolutely amazing whether they be single mothers, working mothers, stay-at-home mothers, or a combination thereof. It’s just I rarely hear the term “superdad” referenced socially the same way. For that reason, I am not sure dads, husbands, and family men, in general, get the same amount of credit.
This social incongruity makes me think of Joseph of Nazareth; a man in my opinion, often overlooked and underappreciated in scripture. Understandably so though, right? I mean let’s face it, it’s near impossible (or simply impossible) to compete with Mary and Jesus. In light of this, Joseph didn’t stand a chance. However, in my humble opinion, Joseph exemplifies what it means to be a devoted husband, father, and believer. Think about it. Joesph navigates a perilous journey through the Judean desert and the forested valley of the Jordan River on his way to Bethlehem. With a hugely pregnant wife (can someone give this guy a gold star), Joseph demonstrates his conviction in God by courageously taking on the role of “father” to our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Joseph not only willingly took on this task but did so wholeheartedly. I can only imagine the amount of pure faith it must have taken for Joseph to set aside his ego and openly accept the role of caretaker and provider for his betrothed Mary, who happened to be pregnant with the Son of Man. Talk about commitment. This is just kinda, sorta a little bit of a [HUGELY IMPORTANT] commitment, right? Yet, we rarely celebrate Joseph and his achievement. I mean, this man brought Mary safely to Bethlehem but remained by her side through labor and helped her deliver the Son of Man. Remarkable is an understatement. I highly recommend a devotion to St. Joseph and a novena prayer is included below.
Now when Joseph took on the task of being a husband and father, he didn’t do it for notoriety or recognition. Instead, he did it because he was a good man, and it was the honorable thing to do. It was a selfless act of love and courage.
Brad is my Joseph. He is a selfless provider for myself and our son. He is our protector and consistently puts our needs above his own. I don’t tell him nearly enough that I appreciate, love, and value him as my husband and our son’s father. I tend to be careless in this way, not purposefully, but still inattentive nonetheless. As a working mother, it is easy for me to get caught up in all I, personally, do to keep the house in order and coordinate schedules, while fulfilling my work demands. However, I would not be capable of completing all those tasks if it weren’t for Brad. I can keep the house in order, coordinate schedules, and fulfill my work demands because I have a husband who compliments me in all the right ways. The only reason I appear to be a “supermom” is that I have a complimentary husband who is a super dad.
We must acknowledge and appreciate the men in our lives. I am so proud of Brad; of the man he is. He is a role model for our son and other young men who will one day be husbands and fathers. He deserves recognition, so thank you, Brad, thank you for being the man you are, a wonderful husband and father. Rhett and I appreciate and love you.
Who is Joseph in your life? Perhaps it’s your husband, father or son? When was the last time you expressed appreciation toward your Joseph?
It’s amusing. I honestly never thought, nor did I really have any desire to write a reflection for the FRAYAM page. Nevertheless, I am finding myself called to issue yet another reflection. My first reflection was inspired by an indispensable man in my life who changed my perspective in many respects and brought me closer to Christ, my son Rhett. However, there was (and still is) a man before Rhett who transformed my heart and made me whole; a man who I don’t tend to give enough credit and a man I am immensely honored to have at my side, my husband, Brad.
I must admit I am one blessed lady, one of the “lucky ones,” you could say, to have found such a truly amazing man in Brad. Aside from being a genuinely good man and an overall human being, he compliments me in all the right ways. He is sensitive when I am rough, the voice of reason when I am obstinate, calm when I am frantic, caring when I am hurting, and he is painfully honest when I need to hear the truth. He is my rock, yet he understands that I am a fully capable woman. In short, he is the “Jim” to my “Pam.” As cliché as that may sound, it is the honest truth, and I am incredibly fortunate to have found someone who makes me whole. Someone who makes me a better version of myself. Don’t get me wrong, Brad is not perfect, but that’s not the point. Though he may not be perfect, he’s perfect for me. I can truthfully say I am a better woman, mother, friend, and overall individual because of Brad.
I find it quite funny. I can openly and genuinely express these sentiments about my husband. I can’t verify if he knows that I feel this way because I can’t recall the last time I expressed my feelings of adoration and appreciation to him directly. I tend to get caught up in my own daily struggle of cleaning the house, running errands, grocery shopping, taking Rhett to therapy, dropping Rhett off at school, picking Rhett up from school, attending doctor visits, all while working full-time. It’s a lot, so admittedly I get a little self-involved. However, through all that Brad is right there with me cleaning the house, running errands, grocery shopping, taking Rhett to therapy, dropping Rhett off at school, picking Rhett up from school, attending doctor visits also while working full-time.
As a woman and a mother, I find that I receive social praise and affirmation for being a nurturer and caregiver. Furthermore, as a working mother and wife, I often find that I am unjustly dubbed as a “wonder woman” or “supermom”. While I know there are MANY “wonder women” and “supermoms” out there, as I have the pleasure of knowing a few, I do feel that title is unjustly bestowed on me, simply because I am a mother. Now, please don’t misunderstand: mothers are absolutely amazing whether they be single mothers, working mothers, stay-at-home mothers, or a combination thereof. It’s just I rarely hear the term “superdad” referenced socially the same way. For that reason, I am not sure dads, husbands, and family men, in general, get the same amount of credit.
This social incongruity makes me think of Joseph of Nazareth; a man in my opinion, often overlooked and underappreciated in scripture. Understandably so though, right? I mean let’s face it, it’s near impossible (or simply impossible) to compete with Mary and Jesus. In light of this, Joseph didn’t stand a chance. However, in my humble opinion, Joseph exemplifies what it means to be a devoted husband, father, and believer. Think about it. Joesph navigates a perilous journey through the Judean desert and the forested valley of the Jordan River on his way to Bethlehem. With a hugely pregnant wife (can someone give this guy a gold star), Joseph demonstrates his conviction in God by courageously taking on the role of “father” to our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Joseph not only willingly took on this task but did so wholeheartedly. I can only imagine the amount of pure faith it must have taken for Joseph to set aside his ego and openly accept the role of caretaker and provider for his betrothed Mary, who happened to be pregnant with the Son of Man. Talk about commitment. This is just kinda, sorta a little bit of a [HUGELY IMPORTANT] commitment, right? Yet, we rarely celebrate Joseph and his achievement. I mean, this man brought Mary safely to Bethlehem but remained by her side through labor and helped her deliver the Son of Man. Remarkable is an understatement. I highly recommend a devotion to St. Joseph and a novena prayer is included below.
Now when Joseph took on the task of being a husband and father, he didn’t do it for notoriety or recognition. Instead, he did it because he was a good man, and it was the honorable thing to do. It was a selfless act of love and courage.
Brad is my Joseph. He is a selfless provider for myself and our son. He is our protector and consistently puts our needs above his own. I don’t tell him nearly enough that I appreciate, love, and value him as my husband and our son’s father. I tend to be careless in this way, not purposefully, but still inattentive nonetheless. As a working mother, it is easy for me to get caught up in all I, personally, do to keep the house in order and coordinate schedules, while fulfilling my work demands. However, I would not be capable of completing all those tasks if it weren’t for Brad. I can keep the house in order, coordinate schedules, and fulfill my work demands because I have a husband who compliments me in all the right ways. The only reason I appear to be a “supermom” is that I have a complimentary husband who is a super dad.
We must acknowledge and appreciate the men in our lives. I am so proud of Brad; of the man he is. He is a role model for our son and other young men who will one day be husbands and fathers. He deserves recognition, so thank you, Brad, thank you for being the man you are, a wonderful husband and father. Rhett and I appreciate and love you.
Who is Joseph in your life? Perhaps it’s your husband, father or son? When was the last time you expressed appreciation toward your Joseph?
5/24/2020
The danger of being emotionally disconnected in this technologically connected world
Read Now
Friar SAvio Manavalan
Pastor of souls - St. Joseph University Parish
A couple of months back, I talked with one of our parishioners, and somehow our discussion ended up in this subject, “Living Disconnected in this Connected World”. Even though we have a general tendency to blame our younger generation on the issues related to this kind of “#connectedness”, the sad reality is that irrespective of age, we are all under the “#influence” in our life.
Human beings are ‘social beings’. However, the over the influence of technology is transforming us into a ‘Social-media being.’ Now the studies show that our younger generation is more comfortable with virtual reality than on an interpersonal and physical level. They feel more comfortable and prefer to talk to Alexa, Siri, or Google instead of having a real conversation with someone, even to their own parents.
Looking back to our relationships, the world has shrunk to screen time rather than inter-personal time. Social media and technology are not evil. They are a great help and are the only possible way to interact and communicate with our relatives and friends who are far away, especially amid the pandemic. But observing our own family and friends circle who are close by, how much quality time we spend with them personally not using a virtual screen? Like our youngsters, the grownups are also kind of hiding behind screen and text messaging, finding the excuse of being convenient in our busy schedule.
I don’t want you to think that I am a technology or social media hater. I love it and use it a lot too. With this in mind, I will share with you a story:
A couple of months back, I talked with one of our parishioners, and somehow our discussion ended up in this subject, “Living Disconnected in this Connected World”. Even though we have a general tendency to blame our younger generation on the issues related to this kind of “#connectedness”, the sad reality is that irrespective of age, we are all under the “#influence” in our life.
Human beings are ‘social beings’. However, the over the influence of technology is transforming us into a ‘Social-media being.’ Now the studies show that our younger generation is more comfortable with virtual reality than on an interpersonal and physical level. They feel more comfortable and prefer to talk to Alexa, Siri, or Google instead of having a real conversation with someone, even to their own parents.
Looking back to our relationships, the world has shrunk to screen time rather than inter-personal time. Social media and technology are not evil. They are a great help and are the only possible way to interact and communicate with our relatives and friends who are far away, especially amid the pandemic. But observing our own family and friends circle who are close by, how much quality time we spend with them personally not using a virtual screen? Like our youngsters, the grownups are also kind of hiding behind screen and text messaging, finding the excuse of being convenient in our busy schedule.
I don’t want you to think that I am a technology or social media hater. I love it and use it a lot too. With this in mind, I will share with you a story:
When I was back in India, it has been several months since I lost my grandma, and I thought it was going to be normal to visit home because of two busy months and the grand celebration of Christmas. These past months we had Grandma’s and grandpa’s pictures and videos shared, the memories of good times we all spent together among the family through social media. But the moment I entered our home, I felt that there was a difference, felt the void, and realized that there would be an unpatchable void, one that only my grandmother could fill, forever in my life. I really understood the value of her presence in my life after I lost her.
As a result, my vacation days were spent with my mom and dad. Even though I had to travel to see my friars, extended family, and friends, I tried my best to come back home for dinner with my parents except for a few days. I was able to spend real in-person time with them both, to hear them, their life being retired, which generally does not come as a subject in our overseas phone conversations or skyping. I was able to understand their happiness and worries. Now, I know what to ask about when I call them, and I am sure it’s time I spend with my parents helped me to realize how important physical and disconnect time is for each of us. I can take it as a lesson in my life regarding all my relationships.
When I reflect on the pandemic, I can relate more to disconnectedness and the need to reconnect. This pandemic has been an opportunity to think in a serious way. How we have lost the connection with God and our brothers and sisters? Through prayer, we should ask God to ratify our healthy relationships and overcome the obstacles in the relationships that are struggling or are disconnected. The real reflection needed is to realize how far and deep we have been disconnected. Occasionally in our busy lives, we fail to recognize that we have disconnected from God and others. We are not supposed to live indifferently with God or with others.
As human beings, we all have differences in ideas and difficulties in opinion with others. We all may have a problematic past where we have made absolutely bad decisions, which might have made our life and others miserable. Maybe we are struggling to get over it but again being dragged down by its impacts and memories. This is when we have to remember about God, who is ready to embrace us back as His sons and daughters not counting on our merits but His mercy. We must allow ourselves to know Him better and get immersed in his love. We need to believe He can do wonders in our lives and bring healing in our relationships. Being reconnected to God will allow our hearts to be reconnected with our brothers and sisters, which will help deliver a newness into our brokenness. In this pandemic situation, social media has helped us connect virtually, but we are still physically disconnected. This is a big difference.
Let’s pray for that grace during this world-wide pandemic by calling for a “re-connectedness” in all our relationships. We pray for God to work in our lives to bring about more profound love and connection to our fellow brothers and sisters, both now where possible, and whenever the pandemic has ended.
God Bless.
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