By now we in the Church are very comfortable applying the term vocation to any state in life that aims at serving God. We use the word broadly to indicate that everyone’s life has something to contribute to the up-building of the kingdom of God on earth and the salvation of souls.
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.
At the end of His earthly life, our Lord sought to teach His disciples how they would remain united to Him in His absence. They certainly wanted this, as their distress at Jesus’ imminent departure shows.
Everyone is wounded by original sin and by subsequent personal sins. Everyone has been wounded by the sins of others. What we do with these wounds largely decides the depth of our inner peace.
The story of two discouraged men making a long journey home after having witnessed the Lord’s grueling passion (Luke 24:13-35) is pure balm for the suffering soul, especially for any suffering in the ways St Josemaria indicates: having lost a sense of hope or of meaning in life.
That Christ has come to us with a heart made of flesh tells us a lot about how the Sacred Heart loves us, and about the kind of love we need. We are loved by any number of hearts during our earthly lives, but one alone among them we call Sacred.
The gospel appointed for the Solemnity of St Joseph just might break all the rules for discipleship. Jesus asks to be followed, but here he has effectively hidden himself from His parents, staying behind in Jerusalem without notifying anyone.
The Lord promised Simeon that he would not see death before he had seen the Christ of God. The fulfillment of that promise alone was enough to justify an entire lifetime of waiting and contemplating.
You’ve begun to live the spiritual life in earnest. You say your daily prayers and make your daily meditation. Is there more?
What does the voice of the Good Shepherd sound like? Would you know it if you heard it?
Perhaps no question comes more frequently to the sincere and devout person trying to live an authentic spiritual life than, “Am I doing it right?” Or, “Am I missing something?”
In the three-year cycle of readings for the Solemnity of Christ the King, it might seem strange to have Gospels that emphasize Christ’s weakness. Instead of seeing the Lord in triumph, we often see Him judged and condemned or hanging from the cross.
A burning lamp is a Biblical symbol of vigilance, fidelity. Waiting servants, no less than the ten virgins of the wedding party, are expected to keep their lamps supplied with oil for one purpose: keeping the lamp’s light aflame. And that flame means much more than light to see by.
The fact that God can take away any problem he wishes, or hasten the end of some unpleasantness, might leave us imagining a whole ungainly mess of wasted time in God’s providence that could have been much better spent.
The Gospel of the beatitudes, appointed for the solemnity of All Saints, is God’s prescription for human holiness and happiness (see Mt 5:1-12), but they aren’t things that would naturally be your “first pick.”
I wonder what Philip was expecting to see when he made this request on behalf of all the Apostles: “Show us the Father and that will be enough for us” (Jn 14:8). What did he expect Jesus to show them?
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).
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.
To find our place in the heart of Mary, Mother of the Church, is unique—not so much the sentimental homecoming of popular song, but a place of rebirth in Christ.
The Gospel reading for the feast of St Joseph the Worker (Mt 13:54-58), presents us with a couple of pointed questions about Jesus: “Where did this man get this wisdom and these mighty works? Is not this the carpenter’s son?”
