Why I Wear a Chapel Veil and an Unexpected Benefit

May 10, 2024/0 Comments/in Catholic Theme, Devotionals, Eucharist/by Maria Riley

Why I Wear a Chapel Veil and an Unexpected Benefit

At every Mass and each time I am in a place with Jesus truly present in the Eucharist, I don my chapel veil.

I’ve been wearing a mantilla for just over a year. I’m not the only one in my parish, but we are among the vast minority. Today, canon law doesn’t require women to cover their heads. Yet, though entirely optional, veiling at Mass is a beautiful way to outwardly express your reverence: at its core, wearing a chapel veil is a tangible expression of awe and humility before the Eucharist.

What initially sparked my interest was that the women who wore chapel veils in my parish were the women whom I wanted to be like. I knew some of them personally, and their entire lives bore witness to Christianity. For them, the Faith wasn’t something practiced for an hour on Sundays; their entire lives embodied it.

For months I admired their mantillas from afar, still unsure if I had the confidence to pull one off. I felt nervous about drawing attention to myself. Yet, week after week, I found myself thinking about veiling for Mass.

Thus began the Great Internet Search of 2023. I sought out every article I could find about women wearing mantillas. I read about the history, why the practice stopped, and why women do choose to veil. I learned how it serves as a physical reminder to focus our minds and hearts on the presence of Christ in the Eucharist, fostering a deeper sense of spiritual connection and intimacy with God. In a world filled with distractions, the simple act of covering one’s head can create a sacred space for prayer and contemplation.

I was especially drawn to the fact that veiling means embracing my femininity. Men have never covered their heads. (In fact, the canon law was to uncover their heads, hence the tradition of removing hats when entering a church). Some movements in the secular world espouse that women should do everything the same as men, but the Church (and I) says, “Thank You, God, that men and women are different yet equal in dignity.” I am a beautiful, feminine woman, and wearing a lace veil is overtly embracing that.

I also felt compelled to have a sacred item I only wear for Jesus. I always try to dress up for Mass, but sometimes (particularly on weekdays or during very cold weather) my attire is less than glamorous. As I pilgrimaged around Poland last month, jeans were typical during Mass. Yet every time I stepped into a church, I wore my veil to remind myself in Whose presence I was.

The clincher was that Mary is never depicted without a head covering. This struck me right to the heart. I desire to be like Mary, to follow in her footsteps of faith, helping draw others to Christ. I aim to echo her Fiat throughout my life. Choosing to veil ultimately came down to my desire to be like her.

I took the plunge and haven’t looked back. I felt a little nervous and self-conscious the first time, but that quickly dissipated. I don’t worry about what anyone else thinks because I know my reasons: I seek to please God and detach from the opinions of others. Veiling is automatic for me now. If I do happen to forget my veil, I feel underdressed, regardless of what clothes I’m wearing.

And now, I recognize a completely unexpected benefit of wearing a veil at Mass. My veil hangs onto my forehead and around my face, creating a little cove just for me. The veil blocks out distractions in my peripheral vision like horses wearing blinders in a parade. When I sit at Mass and gaze at the altar, I don’t see the movements of those around me like I used to. My vision is limited to what—Who—is in front of me. My veil reminds me of what my focus should be on, and helps me keep that focus. An unexpected gift from a simple mantilla.

If you’re discerning wearing a chapel veil, I encourage you to pray about it and listen to how the Holy Spirit is moving in your heart. There is no list of reasons for or against veiling that can compare with hearing the call from within you.

Sanctifying Habits: What is God Asking of Me Today?

April 12, 2024/2 Comments/in Catholic Theme, Catholic Writing and Publishing, Devotionals, Family Life, Spiritual Life/by Maria Riley

Sanctifying Habits: What is God Asking of Me Today?

Habits and routines are such strange things. When I’m establishing them, it feels like dragging a screaming toddler uphill in the snow, and then breaking them is as easy as that same toddler falling asleep in her car seat the minute she’s strapped in. Seriously. I can work for months and months and solidify a productive routine, and the moment that something throws me off, it’s like I’m starting from scratch again.

The crazy thing is that this is true even if I plan and take time for a valid reason. I allow myself a break from writing when I have family vacations or I recognize my need for rest. I am a wife and mom before I’m a writer, and when my family needs me, I let my writing habits fall away.

When I allowed myself some honest silence with Jesus about this, I realized I’m struggling with feelings of inadequacy. I see what other people are doing. I hear about their book launches and new contracts. I watch their reels on social media and see their following count. I read the lives of the saints, and their virtue seems unattainable. I can’t possibly be as amazing as Joan or Faustina or Thérèse. When I see what everyone else is accomplishing, I feel like I’m falling short.

In His mercy, God spoke to me in the silence. He told me that He doesn’t want me to be like Joan or Faustina or Thérèse—because I’m not them. I’m Maria. And He has a special, completely unique mission for me. I can’t possibly be like any of the great saints, but it doesn’t mean I can’t be a great saint in my very own way.

Theodore Roosevelt wisely said, “Comparison is the thief of joy.” I can’t count the number of times I’ve shared a version of this quote with my kids. It comes out of my mouth in ways like, “Be grateful for what you have”; “If all you think about is what you’re missing out on, you’ll be miserable”; or “Look at what you do have! Focus on that!” Not surprisingly, I don’t have the eloquence of Theodore Roosevelt, but the sentiment is the same.

If only I had the ability to take my own good advice. I can be astonishingly wise when it comes to parenting and remain quite dense when it comes to myself.

Learning about the great saints of our Faith is a joy. Having powerful intercessors in Heaven whom I can call on during my difficult times is an unmatched blessing. Feeling inspired by their willingness to give everything to Christ is, well, inspiring.

Thinking I’m failing in my vocation because my life doesn’t look like theirs? Now that is worthless. A complete waste of time and energy. I heard a priceless gem while listening to The Endow Podcast this week:

God doesn’t recycle.

God is constantly creating anew. Every single snowflake is unique. No two flowers are identical. And no one else in the entire history (or future) of the world had or will have the same soul, experiences, thoughts, ideas, disappointments, relationships, situations, creativity, frustrations, or wonder as me. I’m the one and only me.

God loves me so much He not only created me, but He then continues to give me encounters for my own sanctification. God deeply desires for me to become a great saint, and He knows exactly who I am, what I’m capable of, and what my circumstances are. He calls me today from right where I am.

So today I am composing an imperfect blog post and getting myself back on track. What is God asking of you today?

Catholics, Know Your History!

April 10, 2024/0 Comments/in Catholic Theme, Defending the Faith, History/by Mary McWilliams

Catholics, Know Your History!

Writer Mary McWilliams urges Catholics to embrace the Catholic Church’s history with all is blemishes and beauty, and to begin with the spirited re-release of, ‘Triumph, The Power and Glory of the Catholic Church.’

If Catholic news junkies have felt a bit twitchy that their church is the target of arrows firing from numerous directions, those nervous tics have merit. Assaults on the Catholic church worldwide have made frequent headlines: the Chinese Communist Party asserts heightened control on religious institutions in Hong Kong (1); militants attack Sunday worshipers at a Catholic Church in Burkina Faso, killing 15 brothers and sisters (2); and here in the homeland an investigation by US senators into deleted FBI records regarding a memo deemed “anti-Catholic” (3).

That was just in February. In January, the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops released its, “State of Religious Liberty in the United States,” citing the top five threats in 2024 that include increased attacks on churches, suppression of free speech, and mandates on medical professionals (4).

Which may make a bit premature the October 2023 updated re-issue Triumph, The Power and the Glory of the Catholic Church: A 2000 Year History. Or, given the barrage of threats, the timing may be fortuitous for author H. W. Crocker III and his press, Regnery Publishing, to offer this 600-plus page tome on such a lush, complex topic. Since this is a faith that has suffered strikes outside and within, going back to the days after the Lord designated a brash fisherman the rock on which he would build his church, wouldn’t it be reasonable to understand the threats and how they have been handled?

Have you ever succumbed to the argument that Martin Luther had “some good points” in his theses? Or bowed your head in shame over the Inquisition? Been lost on how to respond to criticism of Vatican II? Catholics, know your history; not only the Genesis account of Adam and Eve, original sin, and the lovely stories of Fatima and Lourdes, but of the Dark Ages, the Renaissance, the Reformation up to 20^th Century, Nazism, Communism, schisms, heretics, and where we stand today: a culture that has determined a new era and dubbed it “post-Christian” as though Jesus Christ and his Salvation have become passe´ and given way to a movement that even Dr. Frankenstein’s “… dreams easily surpassed … transhumanism” (p. 541).

Know your history, with its deep, ugly, beautiful, and completely magnificent flaws and glory. Triumph presents it all. Two thousand years is a lot to take in, even snuggled down in the most comfy chair, but Triumph promises to be a “brawling, colorful history, full of pageantry and spirited polemic …” Mr. Crocker, a well-known novelist, historian, myth-buster, and lover of the faith, takes time to frame each era, tie it to the next, and expound on the politics, strategies, conflicts, players, and positions.

Revel in the chapter on Constantine and think of those altogether indifferent to any faith: “Constantine had nothing to gain by embracing Christianity – a small, unpopular, and persecuted faith. His mother was a Christian and his father had been sympathetic to Christians, but their influence was secondary. It was battle that convinced him — the Christian God delivered him victory at the Milvian Bridge” (p. 52).

The author tackles the Reformation with command, describing it as “… the worst cataclysm to befall the Western world since the sack of Rome in 410” (page 289). He explains Luther, described by one historian as “the most anal of theologians,” and how his “barbarian creed” became out of control because Pope Leo X tackled what he thought was a greater threat, the Turks’ invasion of Hungary and Germany with its lances set on the Holy Roman Empire. That is only one instance where Triumph offers insight into the quandaries popes underwent throughout time while navigating hostilities and juggling divergent and powerful leaders.

He addresses both the villains of the church, and the heroes. Charles of Hapsburg, who at age 20, denounced Martin Luther at Worms and remained loyal to the church, even when popes turned against him. Fr. Jerzey Popieluszko, chaplain of Poland’s Solidarity movement, who ceaselessly preached non-violence despite communists’ violence toward him, up to his murder (p. 507). Beloved Pope John Paul II who, with his keen intellect and intuition, understood that old methods no longer worked with modern political threats and introduced a new approach. “What was needed now was a new banner of religious freedom to challenge the primary threat to the faith — Communist totalitarianism. When the Council decided to put the liturgy into the vernacular, the future pope, who understood the primacy of culture, saw springs of popular renewal (p. 522).”

Mr. Crocker counsels that the church will be in conflict until the Second Coming. Jesus has already won the war, but the church militant still needs to fight battles without shame: “… there is no need for muting the trumpet, for fudging the truth to make it more palatable to its enemies, for prevaricating instead of being courageous” (p.537).

In Triumph, Mr. Crocker affirms, “The Catholic Church … is the most extraordinary story in the world. The Church is a great force, and perhaps through it – indeed, only through it —Christendom will rise again” (p. 541).

1 https://catholicvote.org/report-religious-freedom-collapsing-in-hong-kong

2 https://www.vaticannews.va/en/africa/news/2024-02/burkina-faso-15-persons-killed-in-ferocious-attack-on-catholic.html

3 https://catholicvote.org/fbi-reportedly-deleted-info-related-to-anti-catholic-memo/

4 https://www.usccb.org/committees/religious-liberty/2024-annual-report

Knight and Castle Image by Dmytro from Pixabay

Martin Luther Image by Andreas Breitling from Pixabay

The Power of a Smile

March 8, 2024/0 Comments/in Catholic Theme, Devotionals, Faith, Family Life, Hope, Spiritual Life/by Maria Riley

The Power of a Smile

When my kiddos were young, the local YMCA was a saving grace. My four daughters, ages four and under, loved playing in the childcare area almost as much as I loved a chance to pee uninterrupted. My mom-friends also belonged to the Y, so it was as much a playdate for me as it was for the kids.

At the YMCA, I learned that I do actually enjoy working out when it’s not a mandatory school class. I took various group classes that met my social needs and allowed me to try new exercises with no pressure or obligation. I remember especially fondly that if it weren’t for the YMCA, I may not have showered at all when my husband traveled for work. My twins are cute, but I couldn’t take my eyes off them for a minute!

Naturally, when I learned that my husband’s job was moving us to a new state, one of the first things I searched for was if our new town had a YMCA. To my great relief, it did. I’m fairly sure the girls and I trekked over there to become members on our second day there.

But everything was wrong with the new Y. My kids were scared of the new childcare area because they didn’t know the staff yet. They didn’t offer my favorite exercise classes. The cardio room was separate from the weights room, and both felt cramped: the building was regularly crowded, and my preferred machines weren’t available; I had to sign up for a turn on the cardio equipment and could only do thirty minutes at a time.

The worst part was how unfriendly everyone was, from the staff to my fellow patrons. I didn’t know anyone, and no one talked to me. Aside from a quick greeting as I dropped off my kids in the childcare area, I wouldn’t speak to a single person. I distinctly remember feeling profoundly alone while surrounded by people. They just weren’t my people.

One day, while I moped around the YMCA, bemoaning how I didn’t have any friends or even get a friendly smile, I realized the fault was mine. I recognized that from the moment I put the car in park, I hung my head and only looked at the ground. It was no wonder no one ever smiled at me. I didn’t give a single person I passed the opportunity.

At that moment, something changed in me. I decided to not be the reason for my own misery. I decided to lift my head, look everyone I passed in the eye, and smile. The most amazing thing happened: people smiled back.

I felt less alone from that day forward, not because I immediately made friends (which, I’m sad to report, didn’t happen overnight) but because I was connecting with other human beings. God created us in His image and likeness, and He created us for relationships. We aren’t meant to go through this life alone.

I learned some valuable lessons from that experience, the most notable being that I am responsible for my behavior. I can’t begrudge the unfriendliness of others when I don’t make the effort myself; something as small and simple as a smile can make a huge difference.

When I walk around looking people in the eyes and smiling, my soul is transformed. Even if I’m struggling and my life isn’t as simple and easy as I’d like, when I smile, I allow the joy that Christ offers to penetrate into my heart. What’s more, my smile is returned more often than not with a smile from a stranger’s face, further filling my soul with happiness.

These days, I don’t have to think about it: I’m always smiling. I love looking at other people and greeting them warmly. Each person I pass is a fellow creation of God, and I am blessed to be in her or his company. My kids often comment on how friendly I am—I get a chance to remind them that every person we pass has dignity and worth, regardless of her or his outward appearance. In this small, simple way, I get to share Christ’s joy with others.

If you’re feeling down or isolated, the most powerful tool you have requires only a few muscles in your face. It’s guaranteed to make you feel better, and chances are, your joy will spill into the strangers you pass. All you have to do is smile.

©Maria Riley 2024

Magnificat of a Prodigal

January 10, 2024/0 Comments/in Catholic Theme, Conversion Stories, Eucharist, Faith, Spiritual Life/by Mary McWilliams

Magnificat of a Prodigal

“I baptize you in the Name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit,” the priest said, making the sign of the Cross on the baby, a newborn not expected to live, and marking her forever as Christ’s own.

My urgent baptism the day I was born was probably the greatest gift my parents ever gave me. It lit a flame within me that oftentimes seemed to flicker dimly yet refused to be extinguished. As I wandered aimlessly and recklessly through the next decades, the grace I received at my baptistm acted as a homing device to bring me back to the true home and true faith that stirred inside of me.

I am a prodigal daughter, one who strayed long and far. One who thought she could grab her inheritance early and do better with it out in the world than within her Father’s house. Like the older son of the parable, I ended up metaphorically broken, dirty, and perishing from hunger.

We were a family that was Catholic, but not a Catholic family; an obligation passed down through my mother’s side. We knew about Catholic things―prayers, holy days, the pope―but as a family, we did not practice the Catholic faith. Culturally, the 1970s was an age of rebellion―not obedience―to tradition, ritual, and authority. Catholicism was an easy scapegoat. I was drawn to the mysticism, the precision of the rituals, and the stories told in the stained glass, but I didn’t understand any of it. I was curious about the people honored with statues but didn’t know them either, save Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. The old churches with their intricate architecture beckoned and the modern ones reflected messages around me that this faith was nothing to love. So many seemed to hate it, and I followed along.

While still going through the required CCD and Sunday motions, I became ABC: Anything But Catholic. How about Hinduism, Buddhism, Judaism? Then other eastern philosophies and exploration into yoga. I read enough to pick and choose what worked for me. Occult, New Age, and pursuit of worldly goals led to darker passageways and heavier sins, but there was always some flash, some small ray kindling in me that kept me from journeying as deep into the darkness that had captured many of my friends.

He has come to the help of his servant … he has remembered his promise of mercy.

By my 30s, wrong paths and hard lessons had beaten me down. I had pushed God away, doubtful I had a way back, but I started attending an Episcopal church. It was Catholic enough to be familiar but without … well, whatever it was I claimed offended me in my youth. I pondered the creed in the Book of Common Prayer and tried to recall the Creed I had memorized as a child. Was it exactly the same? The Creed was something I always believed. I didn’t know why. I could say it without feeling like a hypocrite. I knew that if I were serious about reuniting with God, I had to go back to my beginning. With a “try me” attitude, I began listening to Catholic radio and watching Catholic television constantly. What I thought were tough questions about the faith were satisfied quickly and easily.

Tentatively, I considered going to Mass, but refused to set my alarm, daring God. If he wanted me back to the Catholic Church, he’d wake me up. He did. I played that game the next week. Once again, he won. This continued for weeks until I wanted to go to church, and just to make sure I wouldn’t miss Mass, I set my alarm.

He has lifted up the lowly … He has mercy on those who fear him …

At Mass, I felt like I had crashed a gala event. Still, each week I went. I sat in the back feeling invisible, until Communion when I felt conspicuous. Alone in the pew, I knew it was not my time. It took three years of going to Confession, remembering a lifetime of sins, and speaking them out loud before I felt like I could honestly receive the Eucharist.

He has scattered the proud in their conceit …

On Easter, the day we celebrate his Resurrection, came a resurrection for me. After many years, torturous examens, and woeful pleas for forgiveness, I stepped up to receive the Body of Christ. “Amen,” I whispered, closing my eyes to dam up the tears. Immediately, I was surrounded by a beautiful aroma that was like home-baked bread with an undefinable sweetness. Not sweet like candy, fruit, or flowers, just a sweetness all its own. The experience simulated walking into a cozy home on a windy, frigid day, with a fire in the fireplace, and a scrumptious dinner in the oven. It had the joy of being welcomed by happy dogs and held by arms that had been waiting just for me. It had the intimacy of snuggling under a blanket with the person you love the most, who knows you better than anyone, your faces millimeters apart, trading secrets and dreams, giggling over private jokes. This sensation would remain with me through the end of Mass, and it continued through the summer.

He has filled the hungry with good things …

More than a decade later, I might experience a brief wafting of this aroma when I receive the Eucharist. I miss the intensity of the first months, but I think he knows I’m convinced he is with me. He promised, “Behold, I make all things new.” He took me, a soul that didn’t expect to survive, and bore me anew.

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord.
My spirit rejoices in God my Savior.

God’s Christmas Wish

December 15, 2023/0 Comments/in Catholic Theme, Catholic Writing and Publishing, Faith, Family Life, Holidays, Hope/by Kimberly Novak

God’s Christmas Wish

Finding myself deep in the throes of holiday madness recently, a short phrase spoken by a house guest caused me to stop and think about where my focus is this Christmas Season.

“We want as much as we can get. All dogs want are the crumbs.”

Among the busyness that comes with the holidays are many suggestions for the gift-giving season. As a child, I recall giving my parents my gift wishes in not-so-subtle ways. I circled toys in catalogs and newspaper ads, as a blatant way of letting them know all I hoped for that Christmas. I have lovely memories of how my children voiced their wish lists, and I am enjoying how creativity is growing with each new generation.

Fixing our eyes on the birth of Christ becomes complicated when the commercialization of Christmas is all around us. Somewhere, at some point, there needs to be a balance. After all, God gave us the best Christmas gift ever, and doing the same for our families is good. Keeping our hearts aligned with God in the process is even better.

I never imagined such a profound statement coming from giving our dog apple pie crumbs. The truth in those words echoes in my heart days later. At this time of year especially, we do want as much as we can get, and if you think about it, the little dog considers the crumbs a full-course meal. I don’t think I will ever look at a piece of apple pie the same, and if my little dog plays her cards right, she may end up with a whole slice!

What would this look like if we flipped the circumstances just a little? Would crumbs be enough in everything we pray for or desire from God? If God’s will for our lives is not to receive the wish list in our minds but to receive only a portion, can we be as content as the dog receiving scraps? Taking it even one step further, let’s imagine that we are holding the meal, and God is patiently waiting for us to give Him a portion—how much are you willing to give God? Are you offering only crumbs or the entire piece?

A relationship with God requires opening your heart and giving God your time and energy. We put forth all of these things to the multitudes during the holidays. I never think twice about making time for shopping, baking cookies, and attending holiday gatherings. However, there are times when my prayer life suffers amidst the holiday madness. Christmas is a celebration of the birth of Christ, God’s one and only Son, given to us as a gift. It is a beautiful gift for you and me to offer our time, energy, and focus to the God who gave us life.

So how do we find that balance, the sweet spot where we can check off the holiday to-do list while staying true to our commitment to the intimacy of prayer? The obvious would be to put God first. This is easier said than done when our minds focus on everything else. Perhaps a written wish list between you and God might do the trick. Consider what God might wish for you, and then offer your requests prayerfully each day. Actions such as these will help to keep your heart and mind focused on involving God in the holiday preparations.

As you wrap presents and tie beautiful bows this holiday season, offer a prayer or two for God’s children who are happy and content with what little they have. Pray for the desire and grace to be satisfied with what God has given you, and perhaps drop a crumb or two to the little dog waiting at your side; God is right there with them.

Navigating through darkness to the Season of Light

December 13, 2023/0 Comments/in Catholic Theme, Devotionals, Faith, Holidays, Hope, Spiritual Life/by Mary McWilliams

Navigating through darkness to the Season of Light

My peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.
—John 14:27

The Lord spoke these words to disciples before the crucifixion. By the end of the discourse, it would be understandable that their anxiety was rising. He concluded: “I have told you this so that you might have peace in me. In the world you will have trouble, but take courage, I have conquered the world” (John 17:33). He knew what the earthly powers planned for them as his followers, and they needed to be reminded that no matter what the world dished out, his was not simply a better way, but the best way. He also sent this message before his birth. In reflecting upon the readings throughout Advent, we can quell the turbulent stirrings rousted during the holidays.

Living in the world is a hard contact sport, and only a fool would play a rough game without proper conditioning and back-up. Yet so many go through life without the support that faith gives. Our society has record numbers of people living with anxiety and depression, and plummeting numbers in church attendance and religious affiliation. The culture is identified by the disturbingly accepted phrase, “post-Christian society.”

Even believers can be shadowed by the unrest that balloons during the Advent and Christmas seasons. The constant pressure to spend, eat, socialize, and “be of good cheer” causes angst for many, even those who enjoy the hustle and bustle. The Devil, that slobbering, panting mongrel of darkness, dispatches four of his best henchmen to squeeze the vulnerable. These days, that applies to most of us. Anxiety, Panic, Fear, and Depression are among his supreme lieutenants because they are excellent collaborators of opportunism. He recruits limitless holiday help to brew botheration through the urgent and endless “best sale of the year” deals, the “get it or forget it” Christmas lists, and social engagements (or lack thereof).

For others, the season stirs up grief over deep loss. The reasons for the unease outnumber the people experiencing them. The pace of keeping up with the season triggers everything from dread to disappointment to despondency. It’s enough to make Santa’s elves want the holiday season to be done. How sad to want such a beloved and beautiful time—Advent and Christmas—to be over with a big sigh of relief. For the beast of the underworld, it’s pure delight, like fresh, bloody meat.

Scripture is always the balm for sufferings of the world, but the readings this Advent—including those from morning and evening prayer and daily Mass—penetrate the fog that can become ever so dense. We began Advent with the command to “watch.” Listen also to the messages of the season. Perhaps commit to memory a passage to push out the anxiety whenever it begins to bubble. “I will listen for what God, the Lord has to say; surely he will speak of peace to his people and the faithful” (Psalm 85:9).

During Advent, we encounter the faceless and the nameless that Jesus healed, proving that God sees us all—no matter how invisible we may feel—and wants to make us whole. “Great crowds came to him, having with them the lame, the blind, and many others. They placed them at his feet, and he cured them” (Matthew 15:30). Matthew recounts in 9:36: “At the sight of the crowds, his heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd.” He even healed those not physically present as we hear the centurion’s pleas for his suffering, paralyzed servant (cf. Matthew 8:5-13).

We meet people this month who, with great trials, embraced the rays of the Son. December 13 is the feast of the fourth century martyr, St. Lucy, whose name means light. She chose a hideous torture that blinded her because she would not betray her Savior. Isaiah 40:29 fortifies us: “He gives power to the faint, abundant strength to the weak.” The following day, December 14, we remember St. John of the Cross who, more than five centuries later, continues to enlighten with his Dark Night of the Soul.

The Advent readings are a treasury of fortitude to battle distress: “… you shall no longer weep; He will be most gracious to you when you cry out; as soon as he hears, he will answer you” (Isaiah 30:19). And others: Psalm 121:5, 7-8; Isaiah 25:8; Wisdom 18:14-16; Song of Songs 2:10-11 to name a few. Throughout Advent, God sends us messages of hope and encouragement. We are assured in Philippians 4:6-7: “Have no anxiety at all, but in everything by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”

Peace be with you.

Feature Image by Rúben Gál from Pixabay
Image by Ri Butov from Pixabay

A Wonka Way of Life

December 8, 2023/2 Comments/in Catholic Theme, Christian education of youth, Community, Devotionals, Faith, Family Life, Love, Mercy/by Maria Riley

A Wonka Way of Life

I love board games. I especially love them now that my kids have graduated from Candyland to (slightly) more advanced and strategic games. I find that playing board games with my kids is the easiest way for me to have them off screen time without them driving me insane or physically accosting each other. (Yes, my girls look adorable, but they’re feisty.)

Our current family favorite is Willy Wonka’s The Golden Ticket Game. Essentially, you play as one of the five children from the film, and collect Willy Wonka Bars through various actions. At the end of the game, when all the pretend candy bars have been collected, the players look inside their Wonka Bars to discover if they have won one of the coveted Golden Tickets. At least one player is left without a Golden Ticket, more if someone is lucky enough to have found more than one ticket in his or her own stock pile of candy bars.

Since they were itty bitty, I’ve never let my kids win at games. (Okay, maybe I skew the game a little bit, but I’ve never completely thrown one.) I believe that learning how to deal with losing is an absolutely fundamental skill that our kids need to learn as early as possible. We have a little song that the loser sings to the winner after a game, which goes, “You won, you won, but I had a lot of fun.” Then the winner has to clean up the game so there’s a tiny bit of retribution.

The original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory movie from 1971 still gets regular viewing around our house too. (The anticipation is already growing for the Willy Wonka origins story releasing later this fall.) In the original film, we meet the eccentric Willy Wonka, who lives in a realm that seems contrary to the rest of the world. His jovial spirit and quirky mannerisms can seem enticing and confusing at the same time. He delivers countless iconic lines; my favorite one is when, after he says that they have so little to do with so much time, he exclaims, “Wait. Strike that. Reverse it.”

I feel like Jesus says that to me too in my call to Christianity. He says, “The world is doing X, but you need to strike that and reverse it.”

The American cancel-culture is infectious these days. When a person makes a single mistake, we are not only permitted but encouraged to cut them out of our lives permanently. This goes for celebrities and family members alike. If someone doesn’t agree with our religious or political views, we simply unfollow and block all communication. If someone hurts us, we self-medicate with booze instead of searching for true peace through forgiveness. We justify and excuse our actions because the rest of the world behaves that way too.

As Christians, we are called to live an upside-down, Willy-Wonka-type life. Where others refuse to forgive, we are called to love all the more deeply. Where others seek worldly recognition, we are called to work lovingly from the shadows. Where others seek riches, we are called to generously share all that we have been given. When the world says, “Do X,” we have to wait, strike that, and reverse it.

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Little Sundays

November 17, 2023/0 Comments/in Catholic Theme, Faith, Family Life, Holidays, Prayer, Spiritual Life/by Kimberly Novak

Little Sundays

Every Sunday is a Holy day of obligation, a day set aside to gather with community and worship Our Father in heaven. This day can also be observed by attending a Sunday Vigil celebrated on Saturday evening. Catholic teaching instructs us to refrain from engaging in work or activities that deter the worship owed to God. Recently I took a day away and referred to it as my “Sabbath,” and I pondered whether or not, in today’s society, these teachings are being honored.

I can admit that I have worked on Sundays in the past. Whether it be writing, cooking, or cleaning, these all take on the energy of work and direct my attention away from worshiping God. I could argue that my writing is spiritual and for the Glory of God, so perhaps that is allowed. I’ve yet to answer that thought. However, I know that engaging in writing on the Lord’s Day is different than attending church, coming home, and reflecting on the readings, sermon, and worship music.
It would be lovely to come home from Mass and simply enjoy celebrating God with my family and friends over a meal. My husband and I like to watch old black-and-white television programs, where families are often depicted attending church service on Sundays and then relax on their front porch, carelessly and effortlessly enjoying the day of rest. I guess observing the Lord’s Day in past generations proved a little easier to do. I wonder what it would feel like if, in today’s culture, we made a considerable effort to set this day aside for the one who created us.

“Work shall be done for six days, but the seventh is the Sabbath of rest, holy to the Lord.”
Exodus 31:15 NKJV

My sabbath day away showed me how much my heart and mind craved one-on-one attention with God. I promised myself more of these days away from my routine to enjoy a full day of prayer and spiritual activities. I’m a little nervous about the holidays approaching if I will be able to honor the time I have set aside. I am organized and a good planner, but we all know how life intervenes and takes us off course. Because of that, I began thinking about other ways to honor God ahead of Sundays and days of spiritual enlightenment. I hope that by creating Little Sunday moments, my heart will be ignited and thirsting for more of God. All the while effortlessly easing me into honoring the seventh day of rest.

I have a few ideas based on my individual preferences. However, you can all devise your own Little Sunday moments. Each day, our local Christian Radio station, 95.5 The Fish, invites listeners to pray The Lord’s Prayer. Engaging in those few minutes is enough to draw the Lord into my day and close to my heart. Another opportunity is praying the Divine Office or Liturgy of the Hours. Many Catholic prayer apps and online tools can help you get started.

If you want to keep your focus on Jesus, honor the day of rest, and grow closer to God, then consider praying about how God is calling you toward Him. From this, devise your plan for Little Sundays throughout your week. Engage in conversations with your family and friends, inviting them to participate. For the time being, when I feel called to write on the Lord’s Day, I will first engage in prayer and allow God to guide my thoughts. If they end up on the page, I know it was because God designed it for His Greater Glory. God calls us to be set apart or different from ordinary things and turn our focus toward Him. I pray that your Little Sundays become stepping stones toward your complete surrender to the Sabbath day of rest, holy to the Lord.

Cath-Lit Live: The Good Death of Kate Montclair

November 15, 2023/0 Comments/in Catholic Fiction, Catholic Theme, Catholic Writing and Publishing, Fiction/by Amy Cattapan

Cath-Lit Live: The Good Death of Kate Montclair

“Cath-Lit Live!” features brief interviews with Catholic authors who are releasing new books. Hosted by Catholic author and speaker Amy J. Cattapan, “Cath-Lit Live!” gives viewers a glimpse into the latest Catholic books while getting to know a bit about the author as well.

The Good Death of Kate Montclair by Daniel McInerny

Kate Montclair is dying. She has arrived at late middle age loveless, childless, and having failed to achieve the career dreams of her youth. Now diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor, she sees the next fourteen months of suffering as an intolerable prospect. Desperate to avoid excruciating suffering and the indignities of so-called palliative care, the terminally ill Kate Montclair secretly plans to break Virginia law with an assisted suicide—but she isn’t prepared for the passion for life a “good death” can inspire.

About the author:

Daniel McInerny is a novelist and dramatist as well as associate professor and chair of the philosophy department at Christendom College in Front Royal, Virginia. In March of this year he published, with Chrism Press, his novel, The Good Death of Kate Montclair, which his fellow Catholic novelist Maya Sinha has called “an instant classic of 21^st-century Catholic fiction.” In June 2024 Word on Fire Academic will bring out his scholarly monograph, The Way of Beauty: A Philosophical Reflection on the Arts, and in the fall of 2024 his play, The Actor, on the early life and underground wartime dramatic activities of Karol Wojtyla, the man who would become Saint John Paul II, will premiere at Christendom College. Visit his Substack, The Comic Muse, for more of his reflections on philosophy, the arts, technology, and culture.

You can catch “Cath-Lit Live” live on A.J. Cattapan’s author Facebook page. Recorded versions of the show will also be available to watch later on her YouTube channel and Instagram.