All sorts of questions fill the air on Easter morning, on that first morning of our new life: “Who will roll us back the stone?” “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom do you seek?”
“And the crowds that went before him and that followed him shouted, ‘Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!’” (Mt 21:9).
We begin Lent with the ultimate reality of human life: we are marked with ashes on our head. And this is meant to stand for who we are…
We are careful about calorie counting, protein intake, omega supplements, as we try to increase one thing and decrease another. It’s easy to be obsessed with the process: we want to see the results, the fruits, of our discipline. Result seeking in the spiritual life, however, can be misplaced…
The readings for the Mass of Christmas night highlight several appearances: from Isaiah, a light has shone; in St Paul, The grace of God has appeared; in St Luke’s Gospel, the angel of the Lord appeared, followed by a multitude of the heavenly host.
In a season when Mary’s responsiveness to God’s will is continually before us, the Church in her Advent liturgy invites us not only to reflect on her perfect obedience but also to imitate it.
The Lord does not remain with us in the Eucharist for His own sake, but to meet our deepest human needs for love and friendship: “Jesus, who has encouraged this feeling of emptiness in us, comes out to meet us” (Christ is Passing By, no. 170).
“For the accuser of our brethren has been cast out, who accuses them day and night before our God. And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb” (cf. Rev 12:10-11).
We don’t need to be told that we struggle… We struggle daily not only to become holy but just to be good people—naturally good, naturally virtuous.
“Behold your Mother!” (Jn 19:27). This is our Lord’s command to us from the cross. What do we see when we behold our Mother?
How much is holy poverty a driving force on your path to Christ? For the first disciples of Jesus, as for the Saints of every age, poverty is a privileged way of identifying oneself with the “affections” of Christ.
The saying goes that most people see only what they want to see. If that’s true, then most of us live with a kind of selective blindness.
St Josemaria concentrated much of his apostolic drive in convincing ordinary Christians that being ordinary is okay. But his message was not one of mere contentment with everyday life or of shunning the wealth and fame typically associated with “extraordinary” people.
Nothing disappoints more than misplaced hope. And maybe nothing is easier to misplace than our hope. From time to time we are all tempted to put our hopes for happiness, even for a kind of salvation, in people whom we idealize or future circumstances we imagine will be perfect.
Prerequisites are built into some of the most significant things we do in life. University admissions, job applications, marriage, and entrance into religious life all have their prerequisites…
The acclamations and blessings that fill the liturgy for Trinity Sunday, both in the Mass and Liturgy of the Hours, urge us to give voice to our praise: Blessed be the most holy Trinity! Praise to You! Glory be to You! How do we enter into this praise with more than our lips?
Are we as aware as the first Christians were of the Spirit dwelling within us? Do we need to learn to perceive what was so obvious to them? What evidence is there that God abides in us and we in Him?
“At several points in the Gospel, Jesus sensitively anticipates the longing that His ascension will leave in us: ‘The days are coming when you will desire to see one of the days of the Son of man, and you will not see it” (Luke 17:22).
In view of St. Charles’ recent canonization, we share with you an excerpt from “Home Again” by Fr. John Henry Hanson, O. Praem.
The Lord warns us against angrily calling another “You fool!” (Mt 5:12). But the fact that He calls certain individuals foolish shows that some merit the epithet (cf. Mt 7:26, 23:17, et al.).