Book Review: Dining with the Saints: The Sinner’s Guide to a Righteous Feast

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Review: Dining with the Saints:

The Sinner’s Guide to a Righteous Feast

Viewers of the long-running tv drama, Blue Bloods, have created a popular culture undercurrent of anticipation for the program’s Sunday supper scenes. In it, four generations of Reagans, New York-based Irish American Catholics dedicated to law and service, gather to pray, argue, commiserate, laugh, and reminisce over a family-prepared meal. There, they remind one another from whence and whom they came and where they are going. The elders, Gramps and Dad, preside from each end of the dining table like two Solomons, maintaining order and reason. Regardless of the strife and animosity that may have come between siblings or parent and child during the week, they now sit for a meal among kin. All ages participate in an unspoken understanding that the place is sacred and together they join in a reverent act.

What the fictional Reagans play out exemplifies “theology of food,” the concept behind Fr. Leo Patalinghug’s ministry, Plating Grace. In Dining with the Saints: The Sinner’s Guide to a Righteous Feast, he and co-author, Michael P. Foley, help diners create their own family altar and a feast for the body, mind, and spirit that recalls Psalm 34:8: “O taste and see that the Lord is good.” Countless studies have documented increased depression, loneliness, and poor health habits in this country. We are paying for the lack of tradition, family, and faith. Twenty-first century Americans starve not only for nutritious meals but an “encounter experience” with one another. The authors are keenly aware that the canceling of thanking God for His gifts and sacrifices, for which we hunger, and asking Him to bless our meals before digging in leaves a void within. “We fear that the loss of the family dinner will also have a bad effect on the very source and summit of our worship (page x).”

More than a cookbook, Dining with the Saints provides a framework upon which folks may fortify their bodies, relationships with one another, and with God. The volume packs ideas for meals, conversation, and prayer in its 353 pages. Most of the 140 recipes, designed by Fr. Leo to be tasty, convenient, and nutritious, require few ingredients and little prep and cook time to afford a nourishing homemade repast.

Father Leo is known for his affability and humor. His experiences include penning the book Saving the Family and Spicing Up Married Life, an EWTN cooking show, and a memorable “beat down” of Bobby Flay on the Food Network, all of which showcase the means and methods by which he evangelizes. His fans will want this latest. This work, however, is just as much Mr. Foley’s. The hardcover’s title, clever cover design, and organization all parallel his other books, Drinking with the Saints: The Sinner’s Guide to a Holy Happy Hour and the smaller Drinking with your Patron Saints: The Sinner’s Guide to Honoring Namesakes and Protectors. The Baylor University professor with expertise in the early church, charmingly and theologically contributes Food for Thought portions and saints and seasons and with the recipes. “Whenever possible, Dining with the Saints presents what a saint actually ate or a piece of advice he or she gave about eating and drinking.” (page x). Mr. Foley’s knowledge of hagiography (the lives of the saints) presents some twists and turns, even for saint devotees.

It’s well known that St. Padre Pio bore the stigmata, but how many could correctly name his favorite vegetable or how it reflects of his personality? Another curiosity is the Chicken Tikka Masala (April 21) that many would assume would be attributed St. Thomas who was “hailed as the apostle of India,” but not so. That honor goes to Italian-born St. Anselm. For our Doubting Thomas, the authors chose a German sweet bread, Saint Thomas’s Kletzenbrot (Dec. 21). Some dishes have rather straightforward names such as Angel Food Cupcakes (Oct. 2, Feast of Guardian Angels), but the intriguing gelatin mold made with fresh raspberries may be lost for the evening’s dessert because it’s called Blancmange (December 29, Feast of the Holy Innocents). Candlemas, also known as the Presentation of Jesus Christ (Feb. 2), offers the ever-delectable Lemon Meringue Pie.

The authors deliver a delightful glimpse into Catholic church past using the 1962 Roman calendar which has more feast days, many unknown to post-Vatican II generations. Even the most catechized Catholic will appreciate discovering some long-forgotten days, such as Drunkard’s Thursday and Quinquagesima Sunday. Part One of the book ties recipe selections with the Feasts of Saints calendar. Part Two addresses the Liturgical Seasons. A five-page reference shows a side-by-side comparison of the “new” date with the traditional. A practical index based on course or main ingredient helps the culinarian find a recipe more quickly. The authors, however, encourage preparing the dishes any time. Enjoy the savory Sausage with Onion Gravy dedicated to Gregory the Great on the “old” date of March 12, the “new” date of September 3, or whenever the occasion fits. St. Gregory’s Food for Thought reminds that “evangelizing requires fellowship with people . . .becoming a part of other people’s lives. . . . Breaking bread together creates a sense of communion . . .” (page 40).  Share it with those close to you and those you want to know. Download some Gregorian chants and enjoy food, fellowship, and God’s blessings upon you.

Copyright 2023 Mary McWilliams
Images and quotes used with permission, copyright 2023, Regency House

A Move Yet Still Home

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A Move Yet Still Home

Last spring, I moved with my family to Kansas, which is my ninth lifetime state (I also studied abroad and lived in London for four months, so if you count that, I’m in the double digits). Only recently did I begin to appreciate the blessing that being Catholic truly is.

Like most cradle Catholics, I’ve always had God in my life. Growing up, weekly Mass and CCD were omnipresent. As we’ve grown our own family, those same traditions have persisted. Regardless which state or city we moved to, a Catholic parish and the True Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist was always available.

Prior to this move, we lived in Florida, and our parish there was something special. Not only were we close enough to walk or bike ride to Mass, but that parish felt alive in a special way. The list of ministries was lengthy, and there were always events or service projects we could be a part of. I volunteered with faith formation, participated in the moms’ ministry, Walking with Purpose, and Bible study. There were monthly socials after a daily Mass, quarterly family events after the Youth and Family Mass (where kids served as ushers and lectors), and no shortage of friendly conversations in the parking lot. To say we loved this family-friendly parish would be an understatement.

When the news came that we were moving to Kansas for my husband’s new job, my heart sank knowing we had to leave our parish. It really had become a second home for us. I knew we wouldn’t find a parish like that in Kansas. I had lived in seven other states in my life, and that parish is unique.

My husband and I traveled to Kansas for a weekend to get to know the area and do some house hunting, and we visited the local Catholic Church for Sunday Mass. My heart was hardened before I walked into the sanctuary. I simply knew it wouldn’t be as good as our old parish.

I looked around and proceeded to judge everything. The tabernacle wasn’t prominent enough. The crucifix was too small. The choir performed instead of inviting us to participate. The priest was old and unenthusiastic. Everything I saw I disliked, and I wanted to be back in Florida.

Then the homily began. I don’t remember the readings for that Sunday, nor do I remember the beginning of the homily. What I do know is that God spoke directly to me that day through his faithful servant’s words.

He reminded us that we don’t come to Mass every week because of the priest or the social time. We come because Jesus meets us here, body, blood, soul, and divinity in the Eucharist. No matter which church we are in, he comes to us there.

Bam. My hardened heart softened. I was struck, and instantly humbled at my own arrogance and pride. Tears flowed down my face as I really let Jesus into my heart. Jesus reminded me that I’m there for him. Not the priest, not the building, and not the socialization. It doesn’t matter which parish I belong to, because Jesus is there for me, and I come to meet him. That’s all that matters.

I looked back on all the states and all the parishes and finally fully appreciated the gift I have in the Catholic Church. While I do still miss my old friends and the community of the parish in Florida, my heart remains grateful for his presence that I’m able to receive, regardless of where I live.

Maria Riley 2023

“Hey St. Joseph, can you help us bring all the absentee fathers home?”

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“Hey St. Joseph, can you help us bring all the absentee fathers home?”

 

When God chose Joseph, He knew what He was doing.

When God chose Joseph of Nazareth to be the foster father of His only Son, He certainly knew what He was doing. That is because this humble carpenter became the most excellent husband and father who ever lived.

I call St. Joseph the “Shadow Saint.” That is because we know so little about him. He never spoke a word that was recorded. He never wrote anything that was saved on parchment. It does not matter. This young man, a “righteous Jew” faithful to the law, was confronted with being engaged to a woman pregnant with someone else’s child. The reality was a terrible thing for him to bear. What he left behind was a legacy of how a man should love a woman and their child and how to care for them.

He would not let Mary be harmed.

Young Joseph was a man of faith, and God was with him. The penalty for his betrothed could have been death by stoning. Joseph would have none of that. His Mary would not be harmed. He loved her. So he took her in and married her. The child she carried would be his.

St. Joseph’s example of selflessness is something that needs to be talked about with admiration, respect, and pride. It might be used as a guide for so many who have fathered children and abandoned them in this secular-driven world.

There is a crisis of fatherless children in America. Next to the disrespect and disregard for unborn life, this could be the most dangerous threat to our society. Fatherlessness is an ongoing tragedy that found its roots planted when Roe vs. Wade was passed in 1973. When the destruction of human life was “legalized” the downward spiral of respect for life followed.

 

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Many children live without their fathers.

A disconnected father factor is involved in many aspects of life today. Yes, many homes still have fathers but many children live in homes with absentee fathers and the societal effects are felt all across the spectrum of American life.

Statistics show that in fatherless homes poverty is 4 times higher than average, teen pregnancy increases by a multiple of seven, abuse and neglect are much more widespread, and drug use is more prevalent. The list goes on and on.

 

St. Joseph is the perfect example for men, young and old.

St. Joseph could be used as a shining example for all men to emulate. He was poor, he was chaste, and he respected women, especially his teenaged bride. He was a man of faith and stayed true to the laws of God and man. Foremost in his life was his faith in God. This was his strength. This is what fortified him. Faith is the common denominator missing in so many lives today.

Joseph of Nazareth is an example of how one should respect the law. We could explain to young people how he had to put his pregnant teenage wife on the back of a donkey and then walk over rocky, dusty roads for more than 80 miles, a journey that probably took three days. And why did he do this? He did this because he was required to go to Bethlehem for the census and it was the law.

The story of young Joseph, taking his teenage wife and baby boy, and escaping Bethlehem because King Herod wanted to kill his son, Jesus, would amp up any young person’s pulse. Herod’s soldiers were hunting the poor guy’s child. His wife was recovering from childbirth. He had to make it to Egypt. And he did for his family. This is what a REAL man would do.

Joseph did whatever he had to do to take care of his wife and son. He worked hard to keep a roof over their heads, to feed them, clothe them, and protect them. He did not care about himself. His family came first, no matter what. He would have gladly died for them if necessary. He was a real MAN. His sacrifice and efforts for his wife and son allowed them to survive so they could fulfill the salvific narrative. THANK YOU  St. Joseph

 

We need to follow his example and celebrate his life.

His faith, courage, integrity, and love of God resonate like the smashing of cymbals and the banging of drums for all of us to hear. We need to follow his example. We need to celebrate his life. We need to honor his commitment to his responsibilities. We should cherish his devotion to family.

I realize the possibility of teaching about this quiet hero in public schools might be a pipe dream. Still, I would hope Catholic schools would use him FREQUENTLY as an example for students to look up to and respect as a role model for what a husband and dad should try to follow.

St. Joseph, two thousand years after his death, is still the finest role model for not only husbands and fathers but for all men for all time.

St. Joseph, pray for us all.

Copyright©Larry Peterson 2023.
Image: Pexels

 

A Beacon of Hope

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A Beacon of Hope

 

“And I say to thee: That thou art Peter; and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”

Matthew 16:18 (Douay-Rheims 1899 American Edition Imprimatur)

The idyllic seaside town of Lahaina on the island of Maui disappeared on August 8, 2023. 

An early morning brush fire, believed extinguished, suddenly erupted into a towering inferno that evening.

Fueled by hurricane winds, the wildfire roared down tinderbox slopes of the West Maui Mountains at more than a mile a minute (1), consuming eons of human history, dislocating thousands of people, and incinerating hundreds of human lives.

When the smoke cleared and helicopters were able to fly over the devastated site where Lahaina once stood, a lone white church spire still rose above the blackened rubble. Maria Lanakila Catholic Church stood alone, the only surviving structure for many blocks, and appeared undamaged.

Maria Lanakila means Our Lady of Victory in the Hawaiian language. It’s one of Most Reverend Larry Silva’s “cathedral churches” in the Diocese of Honolulu, which encompasses all of the islands of Hawaii (2).

Late in the evening on August 12, Bishop Silva flew to Maui. He toured the ruins on August 13, and celebrated a mass for the victims at Sacred Heart Chapel in Kapalua, about nine miles north of Lahaina (3).

“[Bishop Silva] …reported that the pastor, Father Kuriakose Nadooparambil, a priest of the Missionaries of Faith congregation, ‘was allowed to go in (to the church) with a police escort, and he reported that not even the flowers in the church were wilted or singed. There was only a covering of ash on the pews.'” (4)

Church officials acknowledge that there may be hidden structural damage that remains unknown until a full engineering inspection can take place. (5)

Bishop Silva also told Hawaii Catholic Herald that “‘One of my friends, who often serves as my liturgical master of ceremonies when I am on Maui, told me that his uncle, uncle’s wife, their daughter and their grandson all were burned to death in their car, while they were trying to escape. My friend and his wife opened their home to other relatives who lost their home and suspects they will be living there for a couple of years.'”(6).

I also have close friendships in West Maui, nurtured through almost ten years of participation in the Maui Writers Foundation, and many family time-share vacations less than four miles from Lahaina.

I spent the first forty-eight hours frantically trying to reach my granddaughter’s hula teacher. She was dancing a starring role at Old Lahaina Luau late into the night, when we saw her last a few months ago. She got up early each morning to gather plumeria blossoms, and patiently teach a five-year-old girl authentic Hawaiian culture.

I finally received a text that with a new infant growing in her womb, she had managed to escape with her parents, her husband and her adolescent daughter. “It just happened so fast,” she said. They had traveled back roads to reach refuge with cousins on the south side of the island. They had lost everything they owned.

My husband and I worried for weeks about a couple who are also long-time friends. Their names kept appearing on ever-shorter lists of those “unaccounted for.” Their names were still there just two days ago and I was losing hope, when I received an email from them recounting how they had lost their business and had learned that their insurance will not cover any of their damages. But at least they’re still alive.

This morning, as I began to write this post, I received news that my treasured concierge, who had connected me with so many wonderful Lahaina people for almost 20 years, had been found by her brother, deceased in their Lahaina childhood home.

Their cousins, who also survived, had stopped by in the midst of the fire to hurry her along. She just wanted to run back into the house one more time, and said she’d be right behind them (7).

Where is Maria Lanakila in all of this? Who is Our Lady of Victory?

This was the sixteenth honorary title bestowed on Mary by a supreme pontiff or an ecumenical council. Declared by Pope Saint Pius V to commemorate the allied Christian victory over Ottoman Turks at Lepanto on October 7, 1571, the title reflects the success of a massive rosary prayer campaign (8).

Pope Gregory XIII changed the name of the October 7 liturgical celebration to Feast of the Holy Rosary in 1573 (9). That is the Marian mass we continue to celebrate, four-hundred-and-fifty years later.

We can offer our rosaries in days ahead to help the people of Lahaina.

Maria Lanakila, Our Lady of Victory, pray for us. Please succor the suffering souls of the victims, and comfort the sorrowful survivors of the Lahaina fires. May they all find hope, and strength for the future, through your motherly care.

Amen.

©Copyright 2023 by Margaret King Zacharias

Featured Image: Joel Bradshaw, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Inset image: Howcheng, CC BY-SA 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0>, via Wikimedia Commons
Notes:
  1. Official “gale force” windspeed of 67 mph at the time of Lahaina fire is documented here: https://www.nbcnews.com/science/science-news/drought-wind-mauis-wildfires-turned-historic-tragedy-rcna99196# and here: https://www.reuters.com/graphics/HAWAII-WILDFIRES/DRIVERS/gdvzwwgwrpw/
  2. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_parishes_of_the_Roman_Catholic_Diocese_of_Honolulu
  3. https://thedialog.org/national-news/maria-lanakila-catholic-church-survives-maui-wildfire-not-even-the-flowers-in-the-church-were-wilted-or-singed/ quoting Hawaii Catholic Herald
  4. https://www.thebostonpilot.com/article.php?ID=195341 and https://thedialog.org/national-news/maria-lanakila-catholic-church-survives-maui-wildfire-not-even-the-flowers-in-the-church-were-wilted-or-singed/ quoting Hawaii Catholic Herald
  5. https://www.staradvertiser.com/2023/08/11/hawaii-news/maria-lanakila-still-stands-but-waiola-church-is-gone/
  6. https://thedialog.org/national-news/maria-lanakila-catholic-church-survives-maui-wildfire-not-even-the-flowers-in-the-church-were-wilted-or-singed/ quoting Hawaii Catholic Herald
  7. https://www.staradvertiser.com/2023/08/25/hawaii-news/latest-lahaina-fire-victims-on-official-list-include-boy-7/am
  8. https://www.canticanova.com/articles/ot/artba1.htm
  9. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Our_Lady_of_the_Rosary

Cath-Lit Live: Becoming Wife by Rachel Bulman

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Cath-Lit Live: Becoming Wife by Rachel Bulman

“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.

 

 

Becoming Wife: Saying Yes to More Than the Dress by Rachel Bulman

Whether you are preparing to be or are already a wife, you likely are immersed in the external reality of marriage. But being wife is so much more: It’s a call to holiness and a vocation of incredible significance. Becoming Wife explores what it means for a woman to fulfill this vocation. Catholic wife, mother, speaker, and author Rachel Bulman shares – like a friend over a cup of coffee – how being a wife is at once a calling and a purpose. The more a wife makes herself a gift to her husband, to her children, and to the world, the more she inevitably becomes the person God created her to be. She becomes more wife, more woman, more Christian. Thus, she fulfills her identity as a daughter of God and cultivates the soil from which her motherhood comes to fruition. By exploring the life of the Blessed Mother and the guidance of great minds in the Church, like Saint John Paul II and Saint Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, this book unwraps the gift of becoming a wife and what it means to make a “total gift” of oneself through matrimony. 

 

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About the author: Rachel Bulman is a lover of humanity, especially her husband and six children. A national speaker and author, she also appears with her family in the show Meet the Bulmans, currently airing on the Word on Fire Institute’s YouTube channel. She serves on the advisory board of The GIVEN Institute and frequently gives talks at retreats, conferences, and other gatherings. In her spare time, she enjoys reading a good book, lifting weights, and perfecting her Old Fashioned cocktail recipe. 

 

 

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.

 

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Copyright 2023 Amy J. Cattapan
Banner image via Pexels

The Greatest Gift

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The Greatest Gift

We live in an age when there are a lot of misconceptions about love. Some people seem to think that love is primarily about emotion, about warm feelings toward another person. And it’s no wonder that they think that, when so many contemporary novels, songs, movies, and TV shows tend to portray love in this way. In contrast to these popular depictions of love, Hans Urs von Balthasar, the brilliant Roman Catholic theologian from Switzerland, offers us a far more demanding (but also far more fulfilling) definition of love: Love is the selfless gift of self, given and received.

The gift of self: if you’re married, that’s what your spouse wants from you: your spouse wants you; your self; your heart. Ideally, your spouse reciprocates your gift of self with his or her own gift of self to you. If that’s not where your relationship is at right now, make a change. No, don’t change spouses. Change the way you’re treating your spouse, and watch how those changes can improve and strengthen your marriage. Make a genuine effort to be more giving, more generous, more sacrificial, for your spouse’s sake. Hopefully, sooner or later (hang in there if it takes a while), they’ll notice the change in you, and they’ll become more willing to reciprocate with their own sacrificial gift of self. Be the change you want to see in your marriage instead of just wishing for a better relationship, and you can help bring about that change.

The gift of self: if you have children, that’s what your children want from you, too: you; your self; your heart. Of course, your children want and need many other things from you: food, clothing, shelter, education, etc. But what your children most need from you is…you. That’s why it’s so important that you spend as much time as possible with your kids while they’re growing up. It’s a cliché, but it’s true: you never get the years of their childhood back, so make the most of them while you can. Your kids need as much of your time and attention as you can give them. They want to get to know you (at least until they’re teenagers, when they may think they have you all figured out already anyway), and they want you to get to know them. When your young child excitedly asks you to look at the picture he or she just drew, they’re not just looking to share a picture; they’re trying to share themselves – their talents, their interests, etc. They’re not looking for just a nod and a perfunctory “That’s nice”. Yes, they’re looking for your affirmation and your approval, but they’re also looking to connect with you. They want you to take a genuine interest in their work, and thereby, an interest in them. Put the cell phone down and really look at the drawing (and at your child!). Give them the chance to talk about what they drew, why they drew it, etc., because that gives them the chance to tell you about themselves, to share themselves with you. It’s one of the ways they’re trying to tell you they love you. By giving them your undivided attention and by taking a real interest in the picture they’re trying to share with you, you’re not only opening yourself up to receive the gift of self your child is offering you; you’re also giving them the gift of your own self in return.

The gift of self: if you’re a human being, that’s what God wants from you. God wants you; your self; your heart. And God doesn’t ask for anything that he hasn’t already given. Jesus Christ is God’s self-gift to the world. God wants to be united with each of us forever. We were created for union, union with God and our fellow human beings. The Son of God became one of us to make that union possible. Jesus is God’s gift of his heart to the world, the gift of his heart to each and every one of us. And God’s hope is that we will respond to his gift of self with our own gift of self in return.

* This article is an excerpt from Rick’s latest book, The Book of Love: Brief Meditations (https://enroutebooksandmedia.com/thebookoflove/)

Photo by Lina Trochez on Unsplash

Copyright 2023 Rick Clements

Three Things I’ve Learned from my Chickens

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Three Things I’ve Learned from my Chickens

As writers, we know that one aspect of writing well is writing authentically. By that I mean we have to follow the rules of the reality we are writing about, whatever they may be. The rules governing Middle Earth are a little different than those in Narnia, for example.  If we are writing about our own world, here on planet Earth, 2023, one practice that can help us write authentically is the habit of being observant of the world around us, so that we can convey those small details in our stories. In fact, being observant might even lead to a new understanding.

What does any of this have to do with chickens, you might ask?  Doesn’t the title of this article signify something having to do with those small animals? Besides, I’m not saying anything new in that opening paragraph.

Let me begin, then, by saying that I never intended to become “the chicken lady” of my neighborhood. When my husband called from work one day, saying that a colleague had no further need of 4 unhatched baby chicks and did I think we could take them in for a while, I said “Sure” simply because I like animals and couldn’t stand the thought of those little chickies being – literally – thrown away. That was about the extent of my thinking.

Fast forward a year and a half later, and we now have 5 stout ladies who take up a third of our backyard. And they are delightful. I have become thoroughly attached to them. Through observing them closely these past several months, I’ve also learned a few things. Here are 3 of them.

  1. Habits can produce happiness.

My hens follow the same routine every day. They wake up with the sunrise, then run out to munch on the food I give them. It is always the same food, but they are nevertheless excited to see it every morning. They spend the rest of the day alternating between scratching for bugs, chatting with each other and resting.  At 7pm each evening, they gather by their gate and call for their nightly visit. I bring them some rice or a little bread and we spend time together. After a few more sips of water, and a little extra scratching, they put themselves to bed at dusk.  They follow this same routine every day. They witness to the importance of good daily habits, of doing a little bit consistently over time, every day. I often wonder what I could get done if I was such a creature of routine.

2. Don’t be afraid to try.

Even though my hens are quite content in their pen, that doesn’t mean they don’t look up and notice the green grass and fresh flowers blooming in other parts of the yard. They are always up for new ways to escape their yard to get to greener pastures. (In fact, I am convinced that whoever wrote the script for the movie Chicken Run really did have chickens.) Our Rhode Island Red, Cocoa, makes a point of pushing on the garden gate at least once an hour, just in case it has been left open. Our silver Welbar, Sandy, learned exactly where to stand so that she could fly up and just reach the tip of the fence, push off with her foot, and propel herself into the grass. They also know our habits, and often try to follow the dogs in and out.  I think they hope we won’t notice an extra pair of legs.  Even though they appreciate their home, they’re never afraid to push on the gate one more time or keep an eye out for another weak spot in the fence. They remind me not to get too complacent, but to keep looking up and trying.

3. Appreciate your community.

My little flock did not choose each other, but they’ve formed themselves into a community nevertheless. Although they are all different types of hens, they get along. Yes, there is certainly a pecking order (Sandy is at the top) but there is still room for everyone, despite their various temperaments. For example, Pebbles, our black Australorp, tends to get broody and take over the nesting box, while Pepper, a light Brahma and the smallest of the five chickens, likes to make up for her small size by being feisty and pecking everyone, including the dogs. Occasionally there are some ruffled feathers but most of the time there are contented, chatty clucks and check-ins, and at the end of the day they all go into the hen house and sleep peacefully together.  If I’ve had a hard day with a difficult person, I really notice their ability to not hold a grudge and to let bygones be bygones. It reminds me that I might not always want to spend a lot of time around a certain person or persons, but I don’t have to take everything personally and I don’t have to carry resentment with me every day. (And I’m always somewhat flabbergasted that the hens consider our two pitties part of their community!)

These are a few of the conclusions I’ve come to over the last few months, in the mornings with my coffee watching them greet the new day, and in the evenings as the sun is setting.  As I mentioned above, close observation of the world around us helps us to be better writers, and maybe even better people. These five little ladies are speaking to me all the time. Is there something that speaks to you in your life?  What do you closely observe? And is it changing you?

©Copyright 2023 by Sarah Pedrozo

Featured image from iStock-chicken (3)

Bottom two photos by Sarah Pedrozo ©Copyright 2023 by Sarah Pedrozo

 

Just A Little Bit

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Just A Little Bit

My default mode is all-or-nothing. Do I want to volunteer at church? I’m gonna sign up for everything and do it all. Do I feel overwhelmed about keeping memories for the kids? No one gets a baby book at all. Do I want to lose weight? I track every single calorie and work out for two hours, five days a week. Am I struggling to find time to write while the kids are home for the summer? I should just quit writing altogether.

What I love about the all-or-nothing mentality is that when I put it in writing like this, I can clearly see the absurdity of my logic. Yet, when I’m in my moments of being overwhelmed, quitting completely feels like not only a rational option, but the only viable one.

I’ve developed many different strategies for combating this all-or-nothing mentality, including prayer, taking deliberate personal time, and talking to a friend who is currently more rational than I am. But sometimes the best defense is a good offense, and I’ve been working on reminding myself that even if I can only accomplish a little bit, that still has value.

The reality for me is that during the summer, when my four daughters are home all day, I won’t be gifted with large blocks of time for writing. Thirty minutes, first thing in the morning may be all I get one day, and that is still better than not writing at all. I don’t have the luxury (nor endurance) for two-hour workouts anymore, yet twenty minutes on the elliptical still beats sitting on the couch all day.

Ever since I made a pilgrimage to Fatima in November of 2022, my heart has longed to move to Portugal. I’m telling y’all—all-or-nothing. I felt so much peace and so close to God while I was there that I want to uproot the whole family and move to a country where we don’t speak a single word of the native language.

One of my favorite heavenly friends, Saint Thérèse of Lisieux reminds me every day (through my garden flag) to bloom where I’m planted. It’s possible God wants me in Fatima one day, but I know that today is not that day. My kids are struggling enough with a move within the continental U.S., and I can’t imagine if we took them to a whole new country without explicit direction from God.

Yet my heart longs for that pilgrimage feeling, so in my growing attempt to do just a little bit, I planned something slightly smaller than a move to Portugal. This past weekend, my family went on our first ever mini-pilgrimage. We have visited churches while traveling before, but we’ve never set out with the sole purpose of growing closer to Christ through experiencing a holy site right here, close(ish) to home.

Now that we live in Kansas, we are only about two hours away from Gower, MO, the home of the Benedictines of Mary, Queen of the Apostles. This may sound familiar, as this is the place where the body of their foundress, Sister Wilhilmena Lancaster, has been discovered as “incorrupt.”

Her body was not embalmed, and she was laid in only a simple, wooden coffin. Yet after four years in the ground, her body and habit remain intact. A case for sainthood has not even been opened yet, since it hasn’t been five years since her death.  The nuns of the abbey excavated her remains to move her to the newly completed St. Joseph’s Shrine, fully expecting to find only bones to inter. I can only imagine the reactions of her fellow sisters when they made that discovery!

Since we were going to be in Missouri, we decided to also stop by the nearby town of Conception, which is the home of an abbey of Benedictine monks, a seminary, and the Basilica of the Immaculate Conception. We left home on Sunday afternoon after Mass with our regular parish and visited the stunning basilica (including cookies baked by monks!) before getting to the hotel. Then on Monday we went to the other abbey and celebrated the traditional Latin Mass with the Benedictines of Mary, Queen of the Apostles and saw the body of Sr. Wilhelmina.

And that was it (ok, then we stopped at Sam’s Club on the way home because, you know, real life). We were out of our house for barely more than 24 hours, and it was one of the best family trips we’ve ever taken. The mini-pilgrimage was long enough to feel spiritual and fulfilling, and gratifying that I’m doing right by these kids that God has entrusted to my care. The mini-pilgrimage was short enough that my kids weren’t biting each others’ heads off and completely sucking my joy dry.

A little bit was enough. A little bit was beautiful and rewarding. I’m gonna keep trying to do just a little bit each day.

 

Maria Riley 2023

A Place at the Table

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A Place at The Table

Our Italian/Irish family get togethers are large. Typically, at least ten or fifteen gather for dinner, even when it’s only immediate family. I have always loved how we celebrate birthdays and holidays, but how do we look to outsiders?

Though full of love, our often loud and borderline obnoxious group probably looks like a three-ring circus at times. Possibly we are more normal than I give us credit for. In either case, bringing family together is very important to me. The family unit, however, does not only apply to those related to you but also to the body of Christ. God unites us all as the body of the Church, which is cause for celebration as well.

Recently I hosted my family for a holiday, and as the hostess, I kept busy cooking and ensuring my guests had an enjoyable time. I love having my family and friends over to our home. Over the years, we have invested in many updates that make the space more inviting and comfortable. One of those new additions which I am particularly proud of is a portrait of the Last Supper.

Jesus celebrated with his disciples at the last supper by reclining at the table and sharing bread and wine. The warmth of the picture I chose to display is very inviting. The faces of those in the room appear captivated by Jesus. The scene draws my faithful heart in, and even a non-believer would find it compelling.

Since the scene is Jesus having a meal with the disciples, I knew the dining room was our only option when deciding where to hang it. Wall space was an issue because of a couple of windows in that room. Because of the space limitations, the picture appears larger than life. I don’t think that’s all bad. It brings Jesus right to our table.

On the afternoon of our holiday, as my Dad rose from his seat, he commented on one area of the painting, bringing a sense of intrigue to those of us present. The disciples and Jesus are all seated around the table. In one area between Jesus and another disciple is a large gap. The lighting in the picture has a beautiful shadow on the wall behind Jesus and the others. No shadow is in this area, suggesting an open space. A place at the table, so to speak. 

I cannot recall Dad’s exact wording, but his comment was beautiful. He wondered if the area of space alongside Jesus was for us. Remembering it now as I put these words to the page fills me with love. I grew excited and thanked him for giving me a topic to write about. It wasn’t until later that I focused on inserting myself in that spot.

I studied the disciples’ expressions and thought about what mine would look like. Would I look surprised by Jesus’ words or have the appearance of peace and comfort? Upon another glance, I noticed that one of the disciples had his face against his folded hands. Does this represent sadness or concern? After contemplating the scene, I concluded that my facial expression would be as it is now, joyfully expressing God’s light and love. 

A relationship with Jesus brings pure joy, which looks different for everyone. Some may appear calm and peaceful, and others are joyful when they rest within praying hands. Dad has given me a new glimpse into this part of my journey with Christ, and for that, I am grateful. God has invited me to the table through the conversation that day. An invitation that I choose to accept every day, and I pray the same for you. God Bless.

Copyright 2023 Kimberly Novak
Images copyright Kimberly Novak and Canva

We ALL Teach, So Be Careful of What and How!

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We ALL Teach, So Be Careful of What and How!

Many years ago, I taught at a local Catholic elementary and high school. It was my first professional teaching job, and I was excited to pass along the knowledge I’d garnered over my years in college. As a Catholic school music teacher, I taught science, math, English, history… and sometimes music. I had one student in my history class who was NOT going to pass and, furthermore, didn’t care. When I approached him with this information, he kept saying, “I don’t care! I’m going into my family’s business. I don’t care if I pass or not.”

Exasperated, I asked, “What’s your ‘family’s’ business?’” Imagine my surprise when the young man told me his family’s business was something VERY illegal!

My teaching training kicked in, and I said, “Well, even in your dad’s business, history plays a large part! He needs to research, plan, and know the history of the situation he will be walking into.” The student gave me a wary look, smirked, and walked away.

At a parents’ evening at school, the student’s father asked to see me alone. Needless to say, I was nervous. I suddenly wished I’d become a banker instead of a teacher. Soon a mountain of a man ambled into my classroom scowling, “I’m [so-and-so’s] pappa.” I swallowed hard and stuck out my hand for him to shake. In an instant, he had his bear-paw-sized hands and arms around me—giving me a hug and beginning to sob.

All I could do was stand there and say, “It’s okay, it’s okay, whatever it is, it’ll be alright…”

After the man composed himself, he told me his son had told him about our exchange. He was shocked into reality. He said, “I had no idea he even knew what I did for a living, let alone planned on going into it.” The father had been preaching one thing to his son, “Be a good boy. Always do the right thing. Listen to your elders…” Meanwhile, his actions were teaching him to do something different.

For the sixth Sunday of Easter, we’ll hear of Phillip converting an entire community, then James and Peter coming to “confirm” what Phillip had done and laying hands on them to confer the Holy Spirit to them, making sure the people honestly knew who the Christ was. Then we hear Peter telling us we need to embrace holiness and be able to explain why we believe what we believe. And furthermore, we need to “show-and-tell” in a way that is not confrontational. Finally, we have Jesus telling us that IF we fully integrate what he taught into our lives, he will send the Holy Spirit to fill us and help us in every decision.

What we teach matters, but so does how.

If you were wondering what happened to the student, I am very happy to report he went on to business school and owns a local business that is considered a jewel of the community.

Copyright 2023 Ben Bongers

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