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Celebrating the holidays without someone you love is a mix of emotion. And it seems as though there are so many of us experiencing the mix. The weight of death feels heavier this time of year. But I like to think of death as Henry Holland put it, as “only slipping alway into the next room.” And I imagine it at a Christmas party. When someone you love dies, they are still at the party, just in the next room. They’re not standing next to you, joining in your conversation. They’re not laughing and enjoying the same things you’re enjoying and laughing about. But it’s not because these things cease when you enter the next room. They’re simply in a different conversation, laughing and enjoy different things. Their presence is still here in this room, and it sometimes feels as though they’ve just walked out. They’re celebrating Christmas just the same, the only difference being the scenery and the company. Emmanuel —God is with us, carries a different meaning there. For us, here in this room, Emmanuel is exciting news of salvation. A word of hope that God himself comes to us, to be with us in a real and omnipresent way. With his grace, we can feel his presence and see a tiny glimpse of his Kingdom. Emmanuel means an end to our sufferings from sin and a hope for peace. But for those in the next room, the word Emmanuel is a depiction of their constant state of being. God IS with them, body and soul. They see his face with their own eyes. They feel his presence constantly, not with limited human senses but in full. They already know the end of suffering we long for. They already have the peace we hope for. They look to our room, not with sadness of wanting to rejoin our party, but with joy and anticipation that we will one day join theirs. For those of you longing for someone in the next room this Christmas, He sees you. They see you. They are proud of you. And they can’t wait for the first Christmas you join them, when all will “laugh at the trouble of parting.”

“I will pour out the Holy Spirit upon all priests in the form of a purifying fire. Those who welcome that fire will emerge from it like gold from the furnace, shining with holiness and with a wonderful purity for all to see. Those who refuse my fire will be consumed by it.” —In Sinu Jesu God’s will and His love for us can be in the form of a purifying fire. A fire that leaves nothing untouched. A fire that although at times painful, always leads to restoration, and never destruction. There will be pain in this life; we know that- circumstances we wish we could change, prayers that haven’t been answered, sickness and suffering and death. We have two options in pain- to be transformed by it or to be consumed by it. If we welcome it as part of God’s purifying fire, we too will emerge from it like gold, shinning with holiness and grace we would have never known without it. There is pain in either choice, whether we choose to welcome the sufferings as from Him or refuse them, but only one leads to transformation. As we prepare for Advent, let’s pray to our Blessed Mother, whose acceptance of God’s will despite the physical and emotional pain that came with it, brought the greatest transformation and purification in history, leaving not one of us untouched.

If you were to ask a young mother at any given moment if her cup is full, I’m almost certain she would laugh in exhaustion. And yet she still pours. Not for her sake, but for her children’s and ultimately for Jesus. Because the call of the gospel is one of sacrificial love. The idea that you cannot pour from an empty cup is harmful and misleading. It’s counterintuitive to what Jesus teaches us, and today’s Gospel reading proves that. "Amen, I say to you, this poor widow put in more than all the other contributors to the treasury. For they have all contributed from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has contributed all she had, her whole livelihood." (Mark 12:43-44) You can’t get much more empty than the cup of this widow. Yet, she still contributed, and Jesus saw. A contribution given from poverty, is worth eternally more than one given from surplus. We are all poor in something- be it time, patience, finances, self-worth, humility, energy, relationships. Each time we give, despite our poverty, He sees. When you contribute your spare minutes to a coworker despite there being very few minutes to give, He sees. When you contribute a calm word or a gentle smile to a child, despite your patience wearing thin, He sees. When you contribute more money than what is comfortable to the collection, despite the rising inflation, He sees. When you contribute a kind thought to yourself in the mirror, despite your persistent insecurities, He sees. When you contribute your praise to another, despite your own accomplishments going unnoticed or your silence, despite the boiling urge to defend yourself in pride, He sees. When you contribute a cheerful and positive attitude, despite your tank running on empty, He sees. When you contribute your heart, day after day, despite it having been shattered by the pain of broken relationships or the longing for a love in heaven, He sees. He sees. He cares. And when we have completed our journey towards heaven and meet Him face to face, He will recall all of these moments when we contributed out of our poverty, and say to us, "Well done, my good and faithful servant... enter into the joy of your master."

In the readings from Palm Sunday, we heard about the people of Jerusalem laying down their palms in the street and glorifying Jesus' entry into the city. Then John tells us: "His disciples did not understand and could not comprehend the meaning of these things at first." John 12:16 Jesus' followers didn't fully understand what was happening back then. And it makes me question, do I today? The powerful message of the Passion and Death of Jesus is the central focus of our faith. This single act of total and uninhibited love changed the course of human history, and yet, we can still so easily gloss over it. We will not be prepared to fully accept and glorify a savior, if we first haven't recognized that we need one. Friends, He took our place. Because of our sins, we deserve punishment- not easy to think about but all the more necessary. But because God couldn't bear the thought of heaven without us, He allowed his innocent and perfect Son to die in our place. "For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many" (Mark 10:25). A ransom- as in something paid for the release of a prisoner. We are prisoners to sin. If Jesus hadn't paid our ransom and taken our place on the cross, we would have no chance of salvation. The sins we commit on earth would be the sins on our souls for all eternity. After Jesus washed his disciples' feet at the Last Supper, He said, "Do you understand what I have done for you?" These words straight from Jesus' mouth cut straight to my heart. No, Lord, I don't think I truly understand, and I apologize for not having given it a second thought. Forgive us if we've taken your Passion lightly. Jesus, in all of his perfect love will give us the understanding we ask for. When we come to Him and ask for a deeper understanding, we give Him the glory of being a Savior to the people who need reminding that they're in need of being saved.

The news from the Vatican this week concerning same sex marriage should come as no surprise to us. This has been the Church’s teaching for its entire history. I’m not sure why it’s been such a breaking headline. While this news seems hateful and judgmental to some, it is the exact opposite to those who profess it. I think it really just comes down to this- we disagree on how best to love people. To love someone is to will the good of the other. Those who are opposed to this teaching believe that good to be deciding truth for themselves. Those who agree with it believe that good to be God's truth. In a society that has moved so far away from Catholic teachings, we might question why the Church has held so concretely to these teachings. Or how those who follow it can put their faith in a church that is so broken? The Church is clearly not without fault. It is made up of sinful human beings, as every other religious institution is. Luckily, we don’t worship the human beings in our church. We worship the God who instituted our church. Asking the Catholic Church to change its teachings to conform to society is like asking Jesus himself to change his mind. Because the Catholic Church is Jesus. It is the church He himself began. NO other church or religious organization can say that. These are hard conversations to have. Because on whichever side of the fence you stand, there is someone standing opposite from you. And our hearts long for unity. No one wants to see another person suffer or feel like their happiness has been forgotten. But the truth is that suffering is the universal call for all Christians. What the church is asking of gay people is no different than what it’s asking of straight people -chastity according to our stages of life and taking up our crosses daily. “If God sends you many sufferings it is a sign that he has great plans for you. And certainly wants to make you a saint.” St Ignarious of Loyola If you are told that your belief of what it means to truly love someone is offensive, don’t change how you love them. “We must not mind insulting men, if by respecting them offends God.” But at the same time, if you meet someone you disagree with, with anything other than love, YOU are in the wrong. You are reflecting Christ to them. Christ welcomed and loved the people he disagreed with. I hope you choose to do the same. We no longer have the luxury of being on the fence about this. If our peers do not know where we stand on this, do you think God will know when we meet him face to face? Just know that if you decide to stand on the church‘s side of the fence you are not hateful, ignorant or insensitive. And if you decide to stand on the other side of the fence, you are not less than and you are not forgotten. Our sins are different, but we are all sinners. Luckily His mercies are new every morning. To those across the fence, Because I believe that our hearts are happiest in His will, that is what I want for you. Your feelings are valid. Your choice is valid. My beliefs do not in any way discount your beliefs. I still respect you as a human being. I still love you as a friend. But I love you too much to compromise on this.

The plague of our generation is not COVID-19. It is a plague of indifference. It is a lack of conviction that has slowly, but surely, numbed our desire for truth and weakened our recognition of evil. It has demanded tolerance, and has deemed a lack thereof as hatred. Acceptance and unity is something that we all long for as human beings. It's innate. God created us to long for a utopia; He calls it heaven. But Jesus did not come into the world to bring this kind of peace. He came to bring the truth. His truths have contrasted the ways of the world since He lived in the world. Matthew chapter 10 illustrates exactly this contrast, and gives me some peace in the midst of so much division. He said, "Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword." Matthew 10: 34. We will all meet Jesus one day. At the end of our lives He will look compassionately into our eyes, knowing the world we were asked to navigate through, and He will ask, "Where were you?" Where were you, when they attacked my church, demonized her teachings, and scattered my sheep? Where were you, when they abandoned me because of the sins of my shepherds? Where were you, when they called immorality a personal preference and murder a personal choice? Where were you, when they watered down my truths for the sake of their convenience? Where were you, when they glorified those living for themselves, but mocked those living for me? “Whoever acknowledges me before others, I will also acknowledge before my Father in heaven. But whoever disowns me before others, I will disown before my Father in heaven" Matthew 10: 32-33 "Where were you?" - - - I pray that one day I can look back into his eyes, with tired hands, and say, "I was fighting for you."

(reposted from August 2020) This year has not been easy, to say the least. Our country, our homes, our lives are in disarray. We look up to heaven and beg God for answers. Lord, why would you allow so much suffering? Why can't you just put a stop to this madness? It's hard to trust in Your perfect Will, when it seems to be anything but perfect. And we can bring this question way back to the beginning, to the first instance of disarray: the Fall in the garden, Adam and Eve's original sin. And we could ask again, "Lord, why did you allow sin to enter the world in the first place? You knew what was to come afterwards. Why didn't you intervene? Where were you? The simple answer is: He is here, and He is working (Romans 8:28). St. Faustina wrote, "Jesus gave me to know that even the smallest thing does not happen on earth without His Will." Our circumstances, however difficult to bare, are not coincidental, and He has not left us alone to deal with the consequences of our own faults. The Catechism of the Catholic Church tells us that after the Fall, God did not abandon us, but instead orchestrated events to leave us better off than we were before (CCC, 410). "When Jesus became obedient to death, even death on a cross, He "superabundently" made amends for the disobedience of Adam (CCC, 411). The grace we receive from Christ's death gives us blessings GREATER than those that sin had taken from us. In other words, without the presence of original sin, we would not have access to this greater fount of graces. "God did not make death, and he does not delight in the death of the living. . . It was through the devil's envy that death entered the world" (Wis 1:13; 2:24). God does not cause destruction and chaos, but He does not waste it either. He uses it for good. He takes the broken pieces from terrible circumstances and puts them back together, better than they were before. He's not just rebuilding us; He's redeeming us. This truth is all the more relevant today, as we witness our people of Southwest Louisiana and the hell they are enduring from the devastating effects of Hurricane Laura. We find ourselves again asking the question, why? And the answer does not change: He does not make destruction and chaos, but He does not waste it either. He is here, and He is working. As you scroll through the countless pictures showing the indescribable destruction that was left behind, you'll notice that just about every post you read ends with, "...but it could have been so much worse." "We are so thankful." Even from the people who lost EVERYTHING, who are now literally homeless, with nothing but the clothes on their backs, you will read posts like "These are just things," "He is still good," and "We are just thankful that our family is safe." Picture after picture of demolished businesses and homes that look as though they were taken from a war zone, alongside words of THANKSGIVING and PRAISE. An outpouring of love, selflessness and prayer to friends and strangers. First responders who haven't slept in days, supplies and resources coming in from every corner of the country. This kind of faith and generosity may not be common to all parts of our country, but it is common here. We see it time and time again, but only after a tragedy such as this. Only after we're asked to carry a little bit of Jesus' cross together. The greater the weight of your cross, the greater your capacity for love. Because with great weight, comes greater humility. And from humility comes gratitude, and from gratitude comes a love purer than you were capable of before. He has not left us abandoned; He is working. He is rebuilding and redeeming. This is how God has worked from the beginning of time and it's how He will continue. He does not just take the hopeless out of our hopeless circumstances. He fills them with more hope than we could ask for and redeems them to be better than what they could have been without it. God took original sin, and gave us greater graces than before. He takes our own personal sins, and gives us bigger mercies in return. He takes hopeless situations and replaces them with fruits greater than we could've imaged. And He will use this tragedy in Southwest Louisiana to show a love greater than we would've ever known. He will give blessings greater than we would’ve ever known too. With tragedy, this state shines with the love of Christ, that we would not be capable of with out it. He knows we are strong, but He also knows we are tired. He is here. He is working.

Then Peter got out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!” Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?” And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down.” -Matthew: 29-32 In faith Peter stepped out of the boat, but in doubt, he began to sink. As long as his eyes were fixed on Jesus, he was capable. As long as his trust remained completely in Jesus, all was well. God uses the wind and the dark waters at our feet to draw us into a deeper relationship with Him. As soon as I look down at whatever struggle I'm facing and give in to the worrying, and the what if's, and doubts, I sink. I sink into anxiety, and bitterness, and loneliness and *fill in the negative emotion here*. There can be some pretty dark waters at our feet. But as long as my eyes are on Jesus, with his hands stretched out to me, all is well. Because Jesus himself is goodness, and hope, and a promise of protection. When I'm walking towards this image of Jesus, I don't have any reason to look down. I'm not concerned with what's at my feet. My only concern is the One leading me and what He's leading me to. Resisting the temptation to look down is not ignorance or denial. Choosing to trust doesn't mean you're ignoring the reality of the obstacles. It just means you've already acknowledged them and left them in His hands. I have a new found appreciation for the things at my feet, because what other way would require this much trust in God? What other way would have led me to such a determined path to Christ. I know myself, and I know that if there was nothing at my feet, I would have no need to focus on Him. And that would lead me to a false self-sufficiency, destined to crumble under loads that I was not meant to bare. I know myself, but God knows me better. So maybe, just maybe, he's allowed these things at my feet for this purpose. The things at my feet keep my need for Him fresh in my mind, and without that, I would miss out on the kind of relationship He's calling me to- one of dependence and surrender, but in return- strength, peace, capability and security. So today, let's remember to set our focus on the promises of the One who's leading us, and not pay any mind to the things at our feet. They are already in his hands. -Tina