Unconditionally

I had a plan.

Knowing that my husband would be gone for more than two weeks this December, I had lists and ideas and great hopes for the gift I would give my husband for Christmas: a clean house.

Aside from a few near occasions of sin that surround trying to accomplish this goal as a single parent of 6 children, and some actual occasions (thank you, Jesus, for the Sacrament of Reconciliation!), I accomplished my goal. I rid my home of 50+ totes of clutter and trash and clothes and shoes that we'd been holding on to over the course of 6 children and 14 nieces and nephews who have been sharing clothes. Clean at last! Even the garage got a "scrubbing" before my darling husband returned.

He returned after a 14 hour drive and was very patient and kind as the girls excitedly showed him around our now-orderly (and in some places, newly-painted) home. It was about an hour in when my exhausted husband off-handedly noted behind me as I was cleaning up the dinner dishes: "Looks like we're back to filling the junk drawer up with junk."

I was heartbroken. I brooded for a while over this slight, and tried not to be angry at him for noticing "the one thing I didn't get to,"

I thought for a long while about why this bothered me so much in that moment. I already know that my husband does not love me because I am such a stellar housekeeper. He loves me for me, praise God, and he tolerates my tornado tendencies. He does his best to love me unconditionally, even if he gets frustrated with me sometimes for my faults. Usually I am happy with being loved unconditionally because I know that I could never earn his love. This time, though, I really wanted to be loved for what I had done because I thought it was perfect... Except I can never be perfect.

The best part of me didn't do all that hard work because I wanted my husband to be happy with me, but because I wanted him to be happy. Period. I have to be content with being loved for who I am, not for what I do, even when what I do seems pretty great to me.

As I was headed to early morning adoration last Friday, I began to understand that if I am not careful, I do this same thing with God. I sometimes try to earn His love by the good things I do, and I am heartbroken when I fail.

Just like with my husband, I could never earn God's conditional love. He knows me too well. I can, however, bloom and grow and produce great fruit in the freedom of knowing the God loves me unconditionally. He doesn't need me to be perfect, he just needs me to remain with Him.

As I look in the eyes of baby Jesus this Christmas, I pray that He will teach me to love Him and others the way that He loves me.

He comes as such a helpless baby. He didn't come on Christmas Night with miracles and power, He came tiny hands and trusting eyes.

In the baby Jesus, we can love our God not because He gives us all the things on our Christmas list this year, but because He gives Himself. And so I ask for the grace this Christmas to give the Him myself in return.

Unconditionally.

When God Will Be All in All

To celebrate the beginning of Advent, our Level III (4th-6th grade) children studied the Prophecy of the Shoot of Jesse and the Peaceable Kingdom last week. You would be amazed at the quality of theologians we have in this parish.

This was the passage we focused on:

"The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid, and the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. 

The cow and the bear shall feed; their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. The sucking child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the adder's den. 

They shall not hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain; for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea. 

In that day the root of Jesse shall stand as an ensign to the peoples; him shall the nations seek, and his dwellings shall be glorious." Isaiah 11:6-10 RSV

They knew that Isaiah was speaking to the people of Israel in a time of darkness. Their "glory days" seemed to be in the past (the Kingdom of Israel was split into North and South). The immediate future wasn't looking so great for them either (Babylonian exile). But here in Isaiah it seems that the prophet is trying to teach the people to listen to God and to wait in HOPE for something.

"It sounds like the the time when God will be all in all," one of the 4th grade girls offered. "Of course, Isaiah is talking about when the Messiah comes, but he's really talking about the Parousia," submitted a 6th grader in a different session.

Spending time in the atrium with the children of our parish, I am growing in my faith and perspective each year. Advent is a time of year when we listen to the prophets who prepare us for "a great light" and "a child [who] will be born to us," but as I listen carefully with these children, I can't help but realize that Advent is not primarily a celebration of Jesus' birthday. For us, it is a reminder of the hope which His Birth gives for the Parousia. (We say it Pair-uh-SEE-uh).

The time is coming when there will be no more war, no more hunger, no more wailing or pain, no more tears, and no more death. Parousia: when God will be all in all and His Kingdom will have no end.

"So," I asked the children at the end of one atrium session's reflection, "as we spend time in Advent preparing, what should we be preparing for?"

"Parousia," a child responded, as they all nodded their heads.

"And how do we do that?" I wondered.

"Well," (and I am not kidding you, a child actually said this), "we do what we can to make the world like Isaiah said: we feed the hungry, we make ourselves more like God wants us to be, so we're ready."

Let us follow the shining example of these wise children and do the same. One day, God WILL be All in All. Let us make Him so in our hearts today!

Radical Generosity

"Turn around. Mary wants us to go to Mass."

Our van was acting very weird after coming 90% of the way through our mountain vacation. My husband had just asked who we should pray to for intercession. I replied, "I think Our Lady has this one." Immediately, the van lost power. We knew that Mass would be starting in this small town in 20 minutes, so we decided to spend the hour in prayer first, THEN we'd figure out what in the world to do about 8 people stuck in the middle of Colorado with a van full of "Thrift Store Santa" gifts and a week's worth of luggage.

When we walked in to St. Rose of Lima parish and saw 5 women in white habits and black veils, I knew that we'd be okay. My guardian angel leads me to Nashville Dominicans regularly. After Mass, we explained our situation to the sisters, who promised us that they would pray.

As we walked back to our car, I was disappointed. Matt and I both thought that somehow we'd have more answers after going to Mass, but so far we were in the same place we were before. We could get a hotel room, sure, but with no mechanics open for two days and no car rentals for 100+ miles, we were really feeling stuck.

"How about I just go and ask Father if there is anyone in the parish that might be able to help us if we get stuck on the way out of town?"

As I headed back to the doors of the church, the group of sisters were walking toward me. "We were thinking," one of them said, "we're going to Denver. How about we give you our cell # in case you van breaks down on the way?" Gratefully, I programmed the sister's cell into my phone.

I still decided to find out if Father thought there was a parishioner who could help us, but Father had already gone to the rectory.  I asked the parishioners who were locking up if any of them would be able to help us if we got stuck. "Of course," a nice woman replied, as she scribbled down her husband's cell phone number next to hers. "And you can always stay at our home if you need to. We have plenty of room." She also boldly went and asked Father to come out of the rectory and bless our car. (He did!)

Confident that we would be okay, we decided to try it again. The van (with a new transmission, mind you) could not make it up the hill outside of town.

Long story short, we ended up staying at the home of this amazing family. The wife was the Religious Education director of their parish, the husband is in diaconate formation, and their son plans to enter seminary next fall. My daughter, Leah, remarked, "Wow. They are so nice. I wonder if they are Polish?!" Turns out they were very Polish. We saw no less than three images of Our Lady of Czestochowa on the walls of their home and her parish classroom. See? Our Lady wanted us to go to Mass!

We stayed up for hours talking to our new friends about all manner of things and formulated the only plan that could possibly have worked: they would loan us their 8-passenger vehicle (which they only use to pull their camper) so we could drive to Denver in the morning where we could rent a vehicle to get home. We could leave the vehicle with one of their family members up there.

On Our Way to Denver in a Borrowed SUV

There are dozens of other details and side-stories in this little adventure, but I can't help but think about all of the life lessons we learned. Here are three that come to mind:

1. Whenever something doesn't go as expected, look out for your guardian angel because something amazing is going to happen.
2. If we had not expected God to take care of us, we would never have met the wonderful family who said to us, "Thank you so much for this gift of being able to serve you." 
3. Be radically generous, and be willing to receive radical generosity. Families are in a special situation of being able to serve in this way, even more so than the priest or the sisters were able to do. Think about it: the Good Samaritan was just a regular old guy. (My husband was the one who made that connection!) 

So families: Be bold! Give radically. Receive radically. How else can God show others how much He loves them or show you how much He loves you?

Practice or The Game

A guest reflection by parishioner and Level II catechist, Angie Julander.

My husband and I have been blessed with three boys. I wish I could tell you that each Sunday I say “It’s time to get ready for church” and the boys jump up and make themselves look handsome and we all happily get in the car and arrive early to mass! I wish! I am sure other families can relate when I say, some Sundays easy and some…are not!

With three active boys, our family is always involved in sports in one way or another. The boys play sports, they watch sports, they talk about sports, they probably dream about sports! Since they love it so much, it is a great tool to teach them about other things in life. One day a thought popped in my head, so driving to Good Shepherd this Wednesday I decided to try it out and I asked, “What do you think is more important, the practice or the game?”

Like normal I ask a question and I get three different answers! “the game”…“the practices”…“both are important.” “Why?” I asked. “The game is important because that is the whole point”, our oldest says. Next chimes in our youngest, “the practices are more important because that is where you learn.” Our middle son, says with the most confidence “It’s both! The practices are important because if you don’t practice, you won’t know how to play the game. But, the game is a little more important because that is what it is all for!”

So, I asked, “Would you go to a game if you had never gone to practice?” “No way!"..."How would we know what to do?”…“How would we know who was on our team?”
“What if you went to every practice and then it was time for your game and we were too busy to go? Or just too tired?” They laugh, “That’s crazy!”…“Why would we skip the game?”…“Why would you say that?”

“Well…think of church on Sunday as the game and our Wednesday atrium as the practice. Each week we go to the atrium and we practice. We learn the parts of mass and what they mean, we learn how to sit quiet and listen to God, we learn about Jesus and how he loves and calls us and we meet our friends and catechists so we know who is on our team. If we miss Atrium, we miss all that. Then each Sunday we have our big game. We go early to prepare for the game by calming our minds, we say hi to all our teammates and we participate by listening, singing and receiving the sacrament. If we miss Church, it’s like missing the big game.”

We rode in silence for a minute or two before someone started talking about something completely different and we were onto something new, but for the few minutes of silence I prayed that my words sunk in deep into their little hearts, and…that next Sunday is one of the easy ones!

Unless a Grain of Wheat...

"Can I take some of these seeds home and plant them?"

Ms. Lynn had finished presenting the Mystery of Life and Death, and one of the children wanted to see how it worked for herself.

This picture is the result of planting about 9 seeds last year, then harvesting the wheat and planting those seeds.

Now a 4th grader, the young girl had this to say:

"I don't think that the seed really dies. There is still life because it can grow again. Just like in a garden, things look like they are dead, but they aren't. I think that Jesus is trying to tell us that when we die, we bear great fruit, because we go to heaven. We don't actually die! Our bodies will die, but our souls won't!"

The Spirit of St. Nick

*Spoiler alert!*

Last weekend in our final day of Level I formation for Good Shepherd, a super-charged, emotional, and sensitive topic came up during break. No, it wasn't politics. It was Santa Claus.

During one of my Level III sessions the week before, the topic also came up, but not in a way I knew how to handle. As the children were studying the two creation stories in Genesis 1 and 2, some of them were really grasping to try and understand how God could have existed before there was anywhere to exist. The conversation was fascinating, but one child piped in that it was easy to understand because God is just like Santa Claus.

*Cue Awkward Pause*

I let the child's comment go without comment, because I don't want to tread on ground that is truly parent territory, but I have to say that I was troubled for the next week about this topic that has been a struggle for me as a parent and catechist for years.

What's the struggle? That expect our children to believe us when we tell them about God, but that we rarely question our culture's modern-day obsession (which began with a Coca-cola ad, by the way) with telling kids about a man with flying reindeer, who flies about the whole earth in one night to bring presents to the "good kids."

Is God Just Santa for Grownups?

Sometimes it happens that our kids can't tell the difference between the "stories" we tell them and the truth. For example, catechist at training this weekend was sharing how her son's college roommate belittles her son's faith because he thinks it's all made up to make us feel better. "God's just a grownup's Santa Claus," this young man told her son. "He's just something you believe in to make you be good and feel less depressed about the troubles of life." Now that this young man was grown up he doesn't believe in "invisible things" anymore: God included.

Another catechist from Bolivia shared that this is not a struggle in her culture because Santa isn't really a part of their Christmas traditions at all. It is baby Jesus who brings the presents (and the wise men, too--on January 6th).

So What's a Parent to Do?

Everyone of us encounters this culture in a different way, but after our discussion last weekend, a few of the catechists asked if I would write up our family's traditions in an article as food for thought as families are preparing for the start of Advent. So here goes...

We tell our kids the truth--the whole truth. When we talk about Santa, we talk about a Catholic bishop named Nicholas who lived over a thousand years ago in modern-day Turkey. After his parents died, Nicholas used his inherited fortune to help those in his town who were in great need. Inspired by the gifts that God showered over him, he never wanted recognition, so he gave his gifts anonymously.

His life was given to Christ, and his work to care for those in need was so inspiring that the Church recognized him as a canonized saint! Just like all saints, St. Nicholas continues to care for us and intercede for us and our needs. He inspires so many people to give without a desire to be thanked. Sometimes we'll even receive gifts like St. Nicholas gave in the stockings of those poor girls who were to be sold into slavery if their father could not pay off his debts. We can say that the spirit of Santa, of St. Nicholas, is still thriving today.

Our children set out their shoes on December 6th (St. Nicholas' feast day) and receive golden coins (made of chocolate!) and a silver dollar. On Christmas, they'll find presents addressed to them with no name (some of these are from us, some are from other people who did not want to be thanked). We say: "It must have been St. Nicholas. Remember, he didn't want you to thank him. He wants you to thank Jesus." Sometimes the girls will make gifts for each other or other people signed "From St. Nicholas."

When you think about this way, Santa (or St. Nicholas) IS like God. He is generous, loving, and cares for others without thinking of himself, just as we are all called imitate our Lord in our love for our neighbor!

On Catholic Guilt

"Ms. Mandie? Is tonight Reconciliation Night?"

I was walking down the hall several years ago just before our Wednesday night session began when a third grade boy named Alex asked if it was the night, once a month, that Father Harris made himself available for children who choose to go to confession.

I responded that it was indeed, and Alex gave me the first of many surprising responses that we have seen since starting Catechesis of the Good Shepherd at our parish for preparation for Eucharist and Reconciliation:

"YES!" he cheered, as he pumped his fist.

I remember how I responded to the news that we were going to confession at CCD classes back in the day. Sweaty palms? Yes. Fist pump? No.

Over the past several years, it is this common and most striking response to the Sacrament of Forgiveness that has made catechists and parents alike comment that something different indeed is going on in the hearts of these children that have been placed in our care.

Catholic guilt doesn't seem to exist for them. They seem to fly to the Sacrament of Reconciliation each month with little fear or trepidation at all. Often the lines are so long that the priest (and sometimes two priests) can't get to all of the penitents in line.

Last week I found this drawing that Adam, a fourth grade boy in our program, made during his personal work time in the atrium. I almost looked past the significance, it was so stunningly simple. Though it had been a year and a half since he'd shared in the True Vine (John 15) bible study while preparing for First Communion and First Reconciliation, this little moral theologian pondered so deeply on the parable of the True Vine that he could articulate his own motivation to keep sin out of his life... and it wasn't because of so-called Catholic Guilt.

"If your [sic] bad, you clog the goodness." 

He realized that he is a branch on that True Vine, and the goodness (grace) flows from God (the Vine) to us (the branches). When we sin, it blocks that goodness. So don't sin! It has nothing to do with being a bad person or feeling great shame. It's about letting the LIFE of GOD flow into you!

The innocent and joyful witness of these children should inspire all of us to get rid of those "sap blocks" in our lives. Let us make confession, do penance, amend our lives, and for goodness' sake, let the grace flow!

"God is God, and I am Not"

The Pharisee took up his position and spoke this prayer to himself,
‘O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity --
greedy, dishonest, adulterous -- or even like this tax collector. 
I fast twice a week, and I pay tithes on my whole income.’ 

Luke 18:11-12

Have you ever felt the crushing pain of self-knowledge or self-loathing? Have you ever put on so convincing a mask over the "real you" that you even you can't see through it sometimes?

Each time this parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector is read, I consider this sleight of hand or master illusion that the Pharisee is trying to pull off. "Lord, don't look at me. Look at these other people. Yes, let's both stand here looking at them together. I am much more like YOU, Lord, than I am like this tax collector! Let me just list all of the great things about me!"

I suppose it is possible that a Pharisee with this disposition could believe his words and go home self-satisfied. But I doubt it.

When we consider what it means to be humble, as compared what it means to be full of pride, I think that this parable is a great teacher.

The poor tax collector stood in the back not to be hidden, but because he was fully exposed to the God who made him. Because of this, he could not even raise his eyes. There, in the gaze of the God of the Universe, he was laid bare and begged for mercy. He knew who he was, but more importantly, he knew who he wasn't: he was not God.

Unlike the poor Pharisee, he knew that God gives mercy and love because of the greatness of God, not the greatness of man. The tax collector in the story could be fully and completely his flawed self before his God, and still beg for forgiveness and mercy.

The Pharisee may have gone home self-satisfied, but Jesus teaches us that only one went home justified.

Last weekend at training, one of the catechists shared how her young son prays everyday this beautiful prayer: "God is God, and I am not."

How comforting to know that I need not climb onto a pedestal to be close to my Creator, because Lord knows that I would just fall off. I can take off the mask and come to him in all my brokenness, confident that this great Lover of my soul will hear my prayer for mercy.

At the Hour of Our Death and NOW!

Maybe you noticed a little booth in the corner of the Ministry Fair last weekend. There were two young girls, 11 and 12 year old parishioners, who were displaying a variety of hand-tied rope rosaries, and some of their favorite bead rosaries next to a sign up that said, "Living Rosary of Girls (Must be 16 or younger)."

The premise of their sign-up was that each volunteer would promise to pray one decade of the rosary each day for the intentions of life and their vocations.  The girls are about half way done with their signup. They are hoping to get a full 20 girls (one for each decade) plus one to pray the opening and closing prayers. Girls can (obviously) pray more than just one decade per day, but this is a commitment to pray everyday so that together a full rosary is said for their special intentions.

I have to admit... I would never in a million years have thought to do that when I was 11 years old. Rosaries were prayed by the old people in church and when someone died. I figured I would probably grow up and pray the rosary, but not "now."

I think that their idea started because one of the girls' moms (Geneveve L., a CGS catechist, a parishioner here, and also one of my baby sisters) decided to start something similar a couple of years ago with a group of moms. "The Living Rosary of Moms" was an idea she got from reading about the teenage years of Pope St. John Paul the Great and a group of young men that formed a Living Rosary even before he discerned the priesthood.

Geneveve decided to throw it out there and see if she could find 19 other people who would pray together each month. A couple of years later, she now has 89 woman who have joined together to form more than 4 full rosaries prayed each day for our vocations as wives and mothers, for the vocations of our children, and any special intentions we might have together. Apparently this witness had quite the impact on her daughter who is now setting up her own LR group.

October is the "Month of the Rosary" and is as good a time as any to discover the power of this devotion.

The mysteries we reflect on are a powerful way to think more deeply about the life of our Lord, the prayers themselves are composed from the words of scripture ("Hail, Full of Grace" Luke 1:28 and "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb" Luke 1:42), and the difference that this simple discipline of prayer can make in your life is immeasurable. Mary's whole life points directly to Jesus. Spend time with her in the Rosary! Not only does she promise to be with us "at the hour of our death," but also "now." So there is no better time to begin!

Click here to join in our CGS Living Rosary that runs for the month of October!

Reasons to Be Nice to Your Sister

Sibling rivalry. It's a thing.

There might be some families where the siblings don't struggle to get along, but I'm pretty sure they live in a faraway land called "Nowhere."

I think that the reason for this is simple: we just don't try very hard to get along with the people who have to hang out with us.

Friends? Sure, they get our best side. Acquaintances? I'll even do my hair to hang out with you. But my parents/siblings/spouses/my own children? They are far more likely to get the "leftover" me--the one who is all tired out from being nice to everybody else.

I remember my mother warning me to treat my sisters more nicely. "One day, you are going to need your sister, and she's not going to be there for you because you chased her away. You have to treat your sisters at least as good as your friends if you really want them to be your friends." It was great advice, and I'm glad I finally listened, because my sisters are some of the best friends I have in the world.

Well as I watch my own children struggle with the early stages of this very ugly thing, I'm begging our Lord for light on how to help them choose to love their (currently annoying) sisters. The only thing I can think to offer is Jesus' golden rule: "Do unto others as you would have them do to you" Matt 7:12.

The only way to transform our family relationships is if someone decides to live this out. Otherwise, we're all just treating each other the way we are treated. That's how ground wars are started.

Do you want to build a happy family? Do unto your sister as you would have her do to you. Do you want someone to be there for you when life hits you hard and you need help? Do unto your sister as you would have her do to you.

And for goodness' sake pray! Sometimes our relationships need more than a little kindness to heal.

Dear Lord, 

I offer you this prayer, to help me with my current relationship situation. Please take away all the pain and hurt in my heart. Fill it with love, joy, patience, and understanding. Bless me and _____, so that we may never surrender to whatever challenges that come our way. Fill our hearts with love for each other, and may you make each one of us realize each other's worth. Please touch the heart of my _____, fill it with much love for me. Make our complicated relationship become uncomplicated. I seek for your mercy and blessing that you may allow us to spend the rest of our lives with each other. Please make this feeling mutual for both of us. Lead us not into temptations. Guide us wherever we go. Always put us in each other's heart and mind. Thank you Lord for hearing my prayer. I love you. Amen.

(Prayer taken from Catholic.org)

When Stuff Makes You Sad

"Why are you crying?!" I asked a particularly distraught child one day, as she was finishing a Popsicle I had given her.

"(Cousin's name) is playing with my [insert favorite-toy-of-the-day here]!"

Okaaaay. Let's leave aside the fact that its' a beautiful day at the playground, all of us are healthy, we're snacking on yummy sugary treats, and we get to be with our cousins. God's in His Heaven, kiddo, and all is right with the world. But, for this little girl, all was not right with the world. She doesn't have a particular THING and it was making her miserable.

Now, as parents we all desire to give our children the best we can. We make sacrifices so that we can go on vacations with them. We put them in activities. We ensure that they have birthday and Christmas presents, and a maybe even a phone that won't embarrass them when they pull it out in front of their friends. And why not? We have good things. We love our children. So why wouldn't we want to give the ones we love good things?!

I remembered a recent visit with missionaries who had spent time among the poorest communities in other countries. They had a surprising observation: even though the people they were serving had nothing, they were happy. Actually, they were joy-filled.

Ironically, studies show that depression rates are actually higher in developed countries that in poor communities like the ones my friends serve in. St. Mother Teresa once famously said that we in the Western world suffered not from a poverty of things, but a poverty of love.

For that myopic moment in the park, my poor girl could only focus on what she didn't have. She was so worried about this thing that she didn't have room for joy.

Well, it opened up a blinding insight into my own heart: Where is the center of my attention? Is it on all that I have, or all that I lack? In that moment, I determined that we would all have to work much harder to ensure that our children are brought up with a healthy attitude toward the things that they possess, or else those things may end up possessing them.

So while my response to my distraught little girl was important, it was even more necessary that it echo in my own heart as well:

"God's in His Heaven, and all is right with the world. And for Heaven's sake: don't let stuff make you sad!"

Christ Our Life Conference

"Wait. You're bringing ALL of your kids?"

Well, it was tempting to find a sitter and attend the upcoming Christ Our Life conference (September 24th-25th at Wells Fargo Arena!) like a "date" with my husband, but we decided to splurge and bring all of the kiddos for a couple of reasons.

1) You never know what a little kid is going to remember. Today, for example, I was with my 5 year old alone in the van and she started telling me about the Trinity. "Three People, but only One God." I asked her more about it, then I asked her how she knew that. "Jesus," was her blunt reply. Of course, I thought, she's five. She doesn't know where she learns things, she just absorbs things. This is a huge reasons why we expose our little kids to so many people, places, ideals, and ideas: because it's the best and easiest time to form their character. It couldn't hurt for her to attend Mass at the COL conference with 7500+ people, with a magnificent choir of over 100, and a bunch of smiling happy Catholics who are talking constantly about Jesus.

2) It's important for our children to know that they aren't alone. Way back in the day when I was 14, I remember my first "large group" Catholic experiences. We were the minority in my town, and most of the Catholics in our parish looked to my teenage eyes like they were only there for roll call. The exposure to the "Universal Church"--the large body of fired-up believers--was a game changer for me. The Christ Our Life Conference is happening at Wells Fargo Arena, where my kids go to concerts, and Disney on Ice, and sporting events. To see the wider Church step into the light will help me as a parent when my kids think my husband and I are the only weird ones. Nope. The Body of Christ that you are part of isn't just our Domestic Church, kiddo. It is a big, big thing.

3) They still talk about the last one. Learning about Mary's Meals from Magnus McFarlane-Barrow and having their shirt signed by Immaculée Ilibagiza, and singing with Steve Angrisano are still great memories that they talk about today. Even four years ago when 1.5 year old Lucy was fussing and I couldn't stay in and listen, it still turned into a fabulous experience.  I herded her into the Adoration Chapel (always set up on the floor level under the stands) and she knelt with me in the back. I closed my eyes for just a second and she ran, I mean, bolted, up to the front. As I tried to hurry and chase her, she stopped exactly under the tabernacle with Jesus exposed in the Monstrance above it. She knelt there in silence, POINTING up at Jesus for what felt like an eternity, but was probably 30 or 40 seconds. Then she turned to the adorers behind her, her chubby little finger still pointing at our Lord. "Jesus!" she said, then she turned forward again and exclaimed again, "Jesus!"

Even if the kiddos don't get it on the same level as the adults, I decided that it's okay. They're fresher from God than we are, anyway. They'll get what He wants them to get. My job is simply to let them come!

You can get your tickets after Masses this weekend or on the web at http://www.christourlifeiowa.com! You get a discount if you don't wait to get them at the door of Wells Fargo Arena!

Under Your Breath

"What did you say?"

I made a rule many years ago that if my children mumbled something inaudible, especially if it seemed as though it was unkind, they would have to repeat it again until I could hear it properly.

"Nothing," is sometimes the reply I get.

But it's never nothing. I tell them that the words they say under their breath are still said aloud, and if that is the case, they must have meant for me to hear them. Usually neither they nor I am pleased with the words that I hear when they are repeated more audibly, but dealing with the ick of their actual lack of charity in this case is much better than letting it go or wondering if what they said is as bad as I thought. Words matter. In fact, each word we say aloud is one that will be held to account, even if we feel like no one is listening.

My mother told me a story many years ago about a penitent who took her sinful gossip to the Sacrament of Reconciliation. The priest who heard her confession offered her a bizarre penance: "Take a feather pillow to peak of the hillside overlooking the city and shake out each of the feathers. Then return to me and I will give you one more thing to do." The woman complied, but she was quite bewildered when she returned to the priest.

"Good," he told her, "Now you have one last thing to do: I need you to go and gather the feathers back into the pillow." Shocked, the woman protested, "How can I possibly do that? The wind has taken them and they are scattered across the world by now."

"You are right," the wise priest replied. "Just so your own words, once they are out of your mouth. You can never gather them up again. They have gone out either to do good or the opposite. You can either spend your life seeking to undo the damage that your careless words continue to cause, or you can choose to reign in your tongue."

Our changing opinions of others may run through our minds constantly, but once we lend voice to them, it is impossible to know how far that one uncharitable moment's thoughts can reach. Our breath is a great gift of God, which is why our words, even those mumbled under our breath, must be counted and carefully chosen.

The Land of Divine Mercy

World Youth Day 2016 Reflections

July 26th, 2016 was our assigned day for the Pilgrimage of Mercy. This meant we were to meet at Blonia (B-won-ia) Park and walk to Lagiewniki (Wa-gievniki), home to the Divine Mercy Shrine and the Sanctuary of Pope St. John Paul II. Round trip this was probably about 9 miles.

This day was singular in World Youth Day history in that it took place during the Year of Mercy in the Land of Divine Mercy. Our pilgrimage was a reflection on God's inexhaustible fountain of mercy and forgiveness.

Two small little gestures fed my heart on the way.

We were praying the rosary when Lucy jumped out of the stroller ran to the side of the sidewalk and pick this flower and ran over and gave it to me. I reflected on it for quite a while, and it really melted my heart. I'm taking her to Jesus and she gives me a flower because I'm her mommy. I realized that praying the Rosary is a lot like giving Mary a flower while she points the way to Jesus. It's a sweet gesture of love.

The other one was catching two of my middle girls: 12 and 10 years old, holding hands as we walked. This is not a normal, spontaneous gesture that we see. But even the hardest road is made better when you can walk with a friend.

At Pope St. John Paul II's Sanctuary, we were able to see the bloody cassock from the assassination attempt on our beloved pope (shot 4 times point blank and survived!)



The short walk from there to the Divine Mercy Shrine was silent and prayerful due to the loud speakers reminding everyone that they were entering a zone of silence, a place of prayer.









Below is the view coming up to the altar. St. Faustina's tomb was under the image of the Divine Mercy: an image of Jesus with two rays of light coming from his heart. Those rays represent the blood and water that flowed out from his heart when it was pierced, but according to Faustina, they represent His Divine Mercy which flows on the whole world.

Sometimes we would be waiting outside of a Church for the girls to finish praying, and the Divine Mercy Shrine was one of those places.

"Take your time, girls. Take your time."

Christ's Mercy is flowing out over us always, but how often do you take the time to sit and let it wash over you?

To Light, to Guard, to Rule & Guide

World Youth Day reflections

July 25, 2016 was the day that I hired a new tour guide for my life: my guardian angel. I know that my angel has “led and guided” me my whole life, but this whole trip to Poland taught me that every “wrong turn” has something to offer.

Czestochowa

“You’re going to Czestochowa, of course.” The train conductor said it as more of a statement of fact than a question. We were making our way across Poland to Krakow via train on Sunday, July 24th, and he couldn’t help but offer his opinion. “It is the spiritual capital of Poland. Of course you must go there.” And as an aside, “I was born there.”

So the next morning we made our way back to Krakow Glowny (pronounced “Gwavna”) and made reservations for the next train to Czestochowa. It was going to leave in 20 minutes and we hadn’t eaten. After a mad rush that involved using our vouchers at the nearest Burger King, we made it on the train. We had a classic ride, Harry Potter style, in a closed compartment for just the 8 of us.  It was 2:30 when we arrived in Czestochowa and discovered that thousands and thousands of other pilgrims were also there.

The sights were incredible, but the crowds were more so. Our first attempt and entering the Basilica there was shoulder-to-shoulder. We were in there just long enough to have our breath taken away by the immensity and beauty of the church, but then we had to struggle just to get out.

I found an information booth and discovered that an English Mass was starting at that moment. Perhaps if I hurry we could join? The guide tried to show me where the particular chapel I would need to find was located. It wasn’t actually on the map because it was on a different floor. Just look around, she said. Okaaaaayyy....

So we took off, all 9 of us, and we went up stairs, around corners, down corridors, through doorways. We found a lovely adoration chapel, many rooms with beautiful art, the main chapel where the icon of Our Lady of Czestochowa was on display and venerated by a thousand or more pilgrims. But no English Mass. I didn’t know what made me turn into the side room that turned out to be a sacristy. (Now I know: it was my Guardian Angel!) But my winded family strained to keep up as I realized we’d found another dead end to our search.

Then Leah saw her. “MOM! It’s Sister Maria Karol!”

Earlier this summer we hosted two lovely Nashville Dominican Sisters for our Youth Summer Mission. We discovered that Sister Maria Karol, who is from Poland, was also planning to go to World Youth Day this summer. Sister Gianna told Sister Maria Karol and I not to worry too much about meeting up in Poland. She said our guardian angels would arrange it. She was absolutely correct.

After a tearful and joyful greeting of Sister and her 12 companions, Sister turned to me and said, “We are just about to have a private Mass said for us. I have asked the priest and you can join us! Just follow us!”

This time, I could see the angels all dressed in white as they led us through arched doorways and open courtyards into another beautiful chapel. After the Mass, my Lucy said to me, “I want to be a Sister when I grow up.” She ran to tell this to Sister Maria Karol who thought she looked pretty great in a veil.

It was the second time my mother would announce, “This is my favorite day.” I wondered how many more days could possibly be this amazing, but I was ready for anything because our tour guides really knew what they were doing!

There and Back Again: A Pilgrim's Tale

Around 1:30 a.m. on Saturday, August 6th, our family arrived safely home from an 18 day pilgrimage that led us to the Land of Divine Mercy: Poland.

Pilgrims from China wanted a picture with us! I wasn't sure if it was because of the tall lady, the white skinned children with light hair and blue eyes (this happened at the Grand Canyon, too!), or because there were so many children!

It would be impossible to recount the many adventures, misadventures, and spiritual experiences of this incredible event in our lives: World Youth Day 2016. Suffice it to say it will take long reflection to fully realize the fruits of such a sojourn. But since so many of you were following our journey and not so many of you were able to follow us on our Facebook Page (Family Fiat: World Youth Day 2016), I wanted to assure you that we did make it there and back again safely, though we are not quite the same people that left you three weeks ago. (That's a good thing, I suppose).

If it's alright with you, I will use this article space over the next few weeks to talk about some of the sights and insights that came of this trip. Every single day was a challenge, a surprise, and a blessing. I began to see that my guardian angel was the best tour guide I could possibly have relied on. We were almost always in the right place at the right time, if we could open our eyes to see it.

Among the early events of our trip: Visiting a site in Poland that is host to an approved Marian apparition and a spring of water that has similar stories of healing as Lourdes in France. This was Gietrzwald. We happened to be there on the day of a festival in honor of World Youth Day pilgrims, and we were invited to join. Win-win-win!

Here is the post I shared about Day 3 of our pilgrimage on our Family Fiat site:

Do you know the song, "Dayenu"? It is a Hebrew song praising God. The word means "enough." It would have been enough, the song says if God had simply brought us out of Egypt, and not done anything else. It would have been enough if he had just given us the Torah, and not fed us with the manna. And on and on and on it goes.

I am titling day three of our pilgrimage, "Dayenu Day."

It would have been enough I just got out of bed this morning. It would have been enough had to be woken up and found breakfast somewhere, instead of finding out that we were really at a bed and breakfast with an incredible spread. It would have been enough if we had just gotten a ride to Giertzwald, since we had expected to walk both ways. Instead they insisted on picking us up as well.

The tree and spring where Mary appeared 

It would have been enough simply to walk the beautiful path down to the healing spring, but there was also a mountain path where we drank in the air filled with the scent of balsam trees and prayed our rosary together in the Polish countryside that Pope Saint John Paul II loved so much.

It would have been enough if we had just come across the most beautiful Stations of the Cross we had ever seen and prayed that together while climbing up the hill, but as we were making our way around we discovered that in this field at 3 p.m., the hour of Mercy, there would be Holy Mass...

The 13th Station: Jesus is laid in the arms of His mother. 

And that Holy Mass was to be part of the festival for young people from around the world who have come to this diocese in preparation for World Youth Day. And they welcomed us.

Mass in the field at Gietrzwald 

And there was ice cream. And cotton candy the size of Leah's head. And the day isn't even over yet. On and on and on it goes.

Dayenu, Lord. Dayenu.

The Nod

(Reprinted from 2014--I will be taking July off from posting. I look forward to starting up again in August!)

I remember the first time I left Mass early.

I was 11, I think, and my older cousin had tapped me and let me know we'd leave right after Communion. We were such renegades! As we headed past the doors, I grabbed a bulletin to give to my mom as "proof" that I went to Mass, and the two of us ran home to my grandmother's while they were finishing the Communion hymn.

When were back in our hometown and on our way to Mass at our own parish, I (foolishly) asked my parents if we could leave after Communion.  If I could have seen my mother's face, I'm sure the mixture of shock and disapproval would have been plain, but instead I heard my dad say:

"How about this: you kids look at me right before Communion, and if I give "the nod" then you'll know to just keep walking out the door instead of coming back to our pew?" 

We were pretty amazed at this response, but it made that Mass go a lot more quickly that day! We got to the Sign of Peace and we were all looking at Dad to see if he'd give us "the nod" yet.  

Nothing. 

All through the Lamb of God, we were peeking at him, but he seemed especially devoted to his prayers because he didn't even look up!  After the final song, Father left and we turned to go. When I asked Dad about it in the car, he said, "Oh, well, I guess you'll just need to watch for it next week."

We kept watching for the next few weeks, but it was like my dad's head became immobile and barely moved at all from the Great Amen to the closing blessing.  

I remember one particular Sunday when I realized that "the nod" was actually never going to happen. My dad pointed out a small painting near the back door of a parish in a neighboring town.  It had a picture of a guy with sneaky eyes darting out the back door. Underneath the painting were these words: 

"Judas was the first one to leave Mass early."  

Let's just say I got the message!

God's blessing on you and your family this week and always.

Mandie DeVries, Director of Religious Education

World Youth Day: Krakow 2016

I remember sitting in front of the computer the day that World Youth Day in Rio 2013 drew to a close. They had just announced the next location for World Youth Day: Krakow 2016. I shared the post on Facebook with the note: "Change jar starts now!" It took a while before people realized that I was serious.

World Youth Day 1993 in Denver was perhaps the most trajectory-changing experience of my life. I was 14 years old, and my mom was one of the chaperons. The debt of gratitude I owe to the great Polish Pope has been drawing my heart back to WYD ever since, though until now, it has not happened. I knew that the clock was ticking for how long I would even remotely be considered to qualify for the "youth" part of this event, so when I saw the location was POLAND, well... I set my heart on it.

It was probably Fall 2013 when I came to my husband and officially asked if we could go: not just me, but all 7 of us. I remember his response very clearly: he laughed at me. "There is no way," he said, "that we could have enough money to take our family across the world." But I wasn't daunted.

"I know," I responded with a smile. "That's why I want to pray that we would have enough money to go. My Father in heaven is rich, and if He chooses, we can have enough money to go."

More laughter. "You can pray," was his response, and I'm sure he thought that was the end of the conversation.

"Great!" I responded, "But just so you know, that means that if God does get us the money, we have to go." As he walked away, I'm pretty sure my darling spouse didn't think we were in much danger of that.

Be Careful What You Pray For

The girls, especially the oldest one, were motivated. They began working at odd jobs (like walking a neighbor's dog) and making caramel rolls and selling them in the driveway on late start school days or offering them for donation after First Friday mass. Sometimes people would pay $20 or even $100 for a caramel roll. Before long our girls had enough money stowed away to pay for two plane tickets AND all of their passports. They knew that it wasn't just their hard work that was making this happen, it was also the generosity of dozens of people who were inspired by our desire to take this pilgrimage.

My husband and I also had unexpected changes that led to the ability to save more money. He, for example, received a call out of the blue offering him a full-time, work-from-home job with an excellent company. Even the blessing of little David last October was taken in stride.

The point-of-no-return happened in December when we received a very generous check from some family members. Matt's yellow flashing light turned to green and we bought the passports and the tickets. Even a brief fear that we would not find lodging has been provided for from God's hand: a local Polish woman from Sacred Heart parish has helped us connect with her sister who is living there. We will be renting her family's apartment for the 10 days we are in Krakow.

This is happening. My eldest daughter is nearly the same age as I was in '93, and I am the same age as my mom was on that trip. Incredibly, my mom will be joining us on this journey, as well!

Pilgrimage

We officially begin our pilgrimage to Poland to gather with Pope Francis and youth from around the world on July 19th. There will be a send-off mass at the regular 8 am mass at our parish(!) that day for all of those from the Des Moines Diocese who will be heading to Chicago to fly out. We will spend 17 days in Poland where we expect to meet up with an expected 4 million other pilgrims. As our WYD pilgrim journals point out: this is not a vacation or an excursion. We are not seeking rest or even adventure. The goal of a pilgrimage is transformation, and that is our purpose and hope.

We will be taking our parish with us in our hearts, and we ask you to pray for us as we go.

"Blessed are the merciful for they shall receive mercy." WYD 2016 Theme

God's Blessing on you this week and always!
Mandie DeVries, Director of Religious Education

Eating the Crust

It's kind of a random topic, but for Father's Day this week, I want to talk about bread. Not in the Eucharistic sense, but as in the plan old loaf of $1.29 sandwich bread.

Picture this: you get ready to make your sandwich and there is a brand new loaf of bread. It's still soft. There's not even a slight chance it might have been sitting in the back of the cupboard so long that it's moldy.

You open it up and immediately there is a decision to make: Do you take the first slice of bread or go for the second one? There are two schools of thought on the purpose of that first slice of bread that is 1/2 bread 1/2 heel: you either leave it there the whole time you are working on consuming said loaf, you know, kind of like a body guard that keeps the rest of the bread fresher, or you power through it and eat it because it was in line first.

If you belong to the "body/bread guard" school of thought, you will have two decisions to make at the end of the loaf. When there are only those two slices left, do you eat a sandwich completely composed of crusts of bread, or, after ensuring a proper burial of these two soldiers, do you decide to eat a salad tonight?? Important questions.

Well, then there is the third school of thought on the ends of bread loaves. I am not sure that anyone else belongs to this school except for my dad. See, he spent the majority of my childhood actually fighting for the chance to eat that crust of bread. He had (has) us all convinced that he actually prefers the heel of the loaf to the softer and more edible pieces in the middle. Instead of being faced with the dreaded 1/2 crust grilled cheese sandwich, we would happily say that we should save that part for Dad, since that's his favorite. For a short amount of time, some of us kids actually jockeyed for that piece (much like we would fight over the front seat in the olden days).  I bet some of my siblings reading this might experience some shock at the idea that Dad may not actually have a love affair with the leathery texture of the loaf-end. He was so convincing.

Fast forward 30 or so years.

I was having a discussion with one of my daughters who was mourning her loss of a showdown over the front seat with an older sibling about a key principle for being happy in life. "Don't fight to have the highest position!"

As we were discussing this, I remembered the parable our Lord tells us in Luke 14: "Do not recline at table in the place of honor. A more distinguished guest than you may have been invited by [the host], and he who invited both of you may approach you and say, ‘Give your place to this man,’ and then you would proceed with embarrassment to take the lowest place. Rather, when you are invited, go and take the lowest place so that when the host comes to you he may say, ‘My friend, move up to a higher position.’ Then you will enjoy the esteem of your companions at the table. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted."

Retelling this story to my husband later, I suddenly recalled how my Dad would always fight for the crust of bread. It only now occurs to me that in a gentle way, maybe my Dad was teaching me that same lesson. Ironically, I still think that even if Dad didn't actually like the crust in the beginning, he so enjoyed the jostling and game of winning the piece that he still eats the crusts with a smile today.

My parents didn't write articles about their brilliant ideas for instilling Gospel values in their children, they just lived it. But it goes to show that the simple ways that parents live their faith have life-long effects on their children... And hey, it turns out this article did have a Eucharistic sense after all. This memory of Dad's simple and joyful sacrifice continues to teach me to lay down my own selfish desires in order to serve others. Thanks Dad (and Happy Father's Day!)

The Joy of Love

Fifteen years ago this Thursday, my husband and I made a promise that began the adventure of becoming a family. In honor of that momentous occasion, I have a few quotes and reflections to share from the reflection that Adam Storey from the Marriage and Family Life office of the Diocese shared with a group of parishioners last week on Pope Francis' apostolic exhortation, "The Joy of Love."

Thank you to Adam Storey for his awesome presentation at
our event: The Joy of Love (and BBQ!)

I found it not a little ironic when Adam pointed out that Pope Francis refers to the family as a "path of suffering and blood." As much as last Monday was meant to be a "date night" for my husband and me, we would all have known Adam (and Pope Francis) were lying if they said that marriage was an easy or painless road to heaven. Family can be a beautiful thing, but not always.

Still, it was a consolation to reflect on the fact that even in the holiest of families, the Holy Family, there was brokenness. Granted, I've always struggled to see how the DeVries household could possible imitate the Ever Virgin, sinless Mary, married to one of the greatest saints in the Church, along with their Divine Son, but Adam's presentation encouraged us to look further. Have you ever payed much attention to the genealogy of Jesus at the beginning of the Gospel of Matthew? Jesus' family was FAR from perfect. There was jealousy, hatred, prostitution, adultery, and even murder in His family tree... and He was still pleased to become part of THAT family. It makes it a little easier to imagine how He would deign to become part of mine.

Another point that stuck out to me was how important it is to keep paying attention to your spouse. Pope Francis pointed out that much hurt and problems result when we stop looking at each other. The "sacrament" of your spouse is an opportunity to gaze contemplatively at another person as a good in themselves (not because of what he can do for me, but just because of who he is).

It takes a lot of intentional effort to keep looking at something or someone that you think you already understand. It is such a temptation to take for granted your spouse because you've seen them and you know them. But no matter how well you know another person, there is always a deeper mystery in them that you can't see or reach unless they reveal it to you. So my job as a good wife is to give my husband a secure foundation so that he knows that when he reveals himself to me, he will be received in love. When we both are certain of this foundation, we are more likely to become vulnerable to the other person, increasing our trust in each other and therefore our unity as well.

On a related note, theologian Dr. Tom Neal posted on his blog "Neal Obstat" a thoroughly honest and, well, amatory discussion of what marriage lived radically can be. It was called "Significant Sex." The message was simple: No matter how short or long a couple has been living this, there is always further to go. Catholics are not meant to be prudish about what marriage is meant to be.

The Church's message on marriage is not tame. It is radical, it is total, and it is more powerful than nuclear fusion when it is done well. When the two truly become one, the power unleashed in the world is magnificent. If we can live this truth, we will set the world ablaze!

God's blessing on your and your family this week and always!
Mandie DeVries
Director of Religious Education

Someone Has Been There Before Us

I hope that the whole parish will join me in welcoming our new parish sacristan, Robert Thacker. Robert is a ten year old young man who has been in our Catechesis of the Good Shepherd program for three years now. His mother, Diane, gave me permission to share with you the story about how he came to serve our parish in this way.

Diane brought her son to us three years ago because she heard that we have Catechesis of the Good Shepherd as the formation program for our 3-12 year olds. Due to Robert's special needs (something called Sensory Processing Syndrome), his parish DRE and Diane realized that his parish religious education program was unable to meet his needs. He had already spent some time working one-on-one in a CGS atrium at another parish, but his mother hoped that we would be able to help Robert work together with other children, especially so that her other son would be able to have time in an atrium without putting undo time pressure on an already burdened family.

Working together with a one-on-one assistant, Robert thankfully was able to work and participate successfully with the other children in our CGS atrium (our word for classroom). Although Robert was not able to sit still or quietly for very long, one thing that the catechists and other children could not fail to notice was that Robert had an unusually profound grasp on the Mass and other devotions.

This child who would bounce around from room to room and touch whatever he could see, was drawn powerfully to the works on the gestures of the Mass and even a special work on the Rosary where he would sit and recite the whole prayer with his special assistant.

His assistants and catechists all spoke with awe about his reverent attention and command of the Mass. He would repeat the words of the priest verbatim and insist that his "congregation" (which always included his assistant and, sometimes, other children) kneel all the way up (no resting on your heels!) A parent whose child was in his atrium last year (but is in a different room this year) mentioned to me a few months ago that her little girl was wondering aloud about Robert, "I wonder how he is. I think he is going to be a priest."

Unfortunately, due to difficulties inherent in children with Sensory Processing Disorder, Robert has not been able to serve as he would like at Mass. And as this year progressed in school and in the atrium, it became apparent that his occasional SPD outbursts that were manageable when he was smaller had become more difficult and sometimes dangerous to others as he had grown. This sweet, gentle boy who loves the Church and loves the Mass could not join in the community the way that it is usually done. Both we and his mother were heartbroken.

After a long discussion with Diane involving the extreme difficulty of bearing the cross of special needs especially without the help of the Church, I promised we would do all we could and that we are not giving up. After all, Robert is not just a boy with special needs. He is a boy with special abilities, too. In a discussion about what to do, one of his catechists suddenly offered a crazy idea: What if Robert could help prepare for Mass? What if Robert could serve as a parish sacristan?

Even as we prepare to present the work of "The Preparation of the Chalice" in the atrium, we introduce the cruets and tell the children: "When we go to Mass, someone has been there before us." That someone is the parish sacristan. From the age of three, we show the children how to prepare the cruets of water and wine. Robert had also seen presentations on the liturgical colors and he always knew what color Father's chasuble would be. He has had years of preparing the altar with everything that was needed: the paten and chalice, the corporal, the purificators, the hand towel, etc. We knew immediately that she had discovered the answer.

After receiving approval from Father, I called his mom to ask her if Robert would be willing to serve as parish sacristan. She broke down into tears. Just ten minutes earlier, she told me, she had offered a prayer of abandonment to the Holy Spirit and told God that she trusted Him completely to take care of Robert. It was an answer to prayer.

So for the past month, each Friday afternoon, Robert and his mom or dad meet me at the Church. Robert takes his special cross necklace (like the altar servers wear) and goes to the front of the tabernacle and offers the special "sacristan prayer" asking God to bless his ministry and he gets to work. He ensures there are enough hosts in the sacristy, the cloths are prepared, the proper chasuble is set out, and now he likes to make sure that any burnt out candles in front of our Mary statue are replaced with fresh ones. Sometimes he will open and read Sunday's Gospel to me, sometimes he will pose in front of the mirror as he holds up the large hosts (like a priest would do) while he counts them. Always he will sign and date the paper that has his duties written on it and turn it in to the office mailbox.

A few weeks ago, his father, Larry, was able to be there and watch him do his work for the first time. "Bob," he said with emotion in his voice, holding his son's shoulders so that he could look at him straight in the eyes, "I'm so proud of you, son." And we all are.

It is the highlight of my week now to come and do this work of preparing for Mass with Robert. My favorite part is at the end, just after he has dropped his completed paper in the mailbox and he turns and shakes my hand and says, "See you next week, Ms. Mandie." Then off he goes to his next adventure.

God's blessing on you and your family this week and always,
Mandie DeVries, Director of Religious Education

A Child Makes Sense of the Eucharist

Several years ago now on First Communion Sunday, according to his custom, Father Harris began his homily by asking the children questions. That particular year, he began simply enough:

"Why are we here today? What are we celebrating?"

An eager child piped in: "We are receiving Jesus."

Father pointed to the back of the church to the bread and wine: "In a little while they are going to bring up the bread and the wine. Is that Jesus? No. It will be placed on the altar, but then something is going to happen. We teach that it is going to become the Body and Blood of Jesus... Well, I have two questions for you: 1) How can that even happen--bread and wine turning in to Jesus' Body and Blood? and two 2) Why would Jesus want to do that?"

As the Director of Religious Education and a catechist, I drew in a deep breath. I mean, I believed we'd prepared the children well for this day, but Father! Those were rather difficult questions for 8 year olds to be answering in front of a couple hundred people! I think their parents were even squirming a little, afraid maybe that the question would be addressed to them next.

An arm shot up.

I saw that it wasn't an 8 year old who raised her hand at all. We had a first grade child that year who begged to be allowed to receive her first communion. She had drawn a picture and written a note to Father Harris letting him know that she felt that Jesus was calling her to receive that year. "How can I refuse this?" He'd said, holding in his hand her drawing of him giving her first communion, with the words "Jesus is calling me" written there.

Father pointed at little Olivia and she stood up so that she would be heard.

"Well," she began boldly, "He can change the bread and wine into the Body and Blood because He is God and He can do whatever He wants."

Good one, I thought, as she took a breath. I wondered how a just-turned-7 year old child would explain something that scholars, theologians, priests, bishops, and popes have taken millenia to carefully present. I might have been holding my breath.

"And," she continued confidently, "Jesus knew that He would be going back into heaven, but He didn't want to leave the people alone without Him, or to never be with people who had not been born yet. So He gave us this gift because He wanted to be with us forever."

Father was speechless, and started walking back to his chair. He said his homily was over because she had just preached it for Him.

Sometimes we adults get a little caught up in the hows and whys and complications of faith. We see evil and we are scandalized, we experience suffering and we are jaded. Is God really there? Does He really love us at all? But that beautiful day in May 2012, the simplicity of a child cut through all of the big words and big ideas and explained the great Sacrament we celebrate this weekend (Corpus Christi) as one simple concept: Love. He wants to be with us. Doesn't that make sense?

"At that same hour Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Spirit and said, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will." Luke 10:21

 God's Blessing to you on this Feast of Corpus Christi and always!
Mandie DeVries, Director of Religious Education

In Memory of a Good and Faithful Shepherd

I literally gasped for breath and fell off my chair when I saw the text that informed me that the beloved Father Kiernan passed away suddenly from a heart attack yesterday: Pentecost Sunday. Over the past year, he has been a very special part of our program, assisting Father Harris with our monthly reconciliation evenings with our Religious Education classes. I will never forget what he told the kids they must do EVERYDAY (pray), or his sweet, gravelly voice singing with a group of boys, "Jesus, Jesus come to me, all my lovin' is for thee..." He was an incredible father-figure, and I'm so grateful that I got to know him over the past year. I've decided to reprint this article from last November about just one of the many lessons I learned from him. I only had to change the last line...


Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let the perpetual light shine upon him.

What's for Dinner, LORD?
(reprinted from November 2015)

I remember being told to say my prayers as a child. Pray, pray, pray, pray, pray. I thought it meant to pray my nightly prayers, or pray before meals. I thought it meant to ask God for things, and to take care of people. I thought it meant to say thank you to God when He answers my prayers. I didn't realize I could pray just by saying His name!

Our family was able to attend noon first Friday mass at the Basilica of St. John last week, and the homily was given by Fr. Jim Kiernan. If you know Father Kiernan, a retired priest in this diocese, you know that he always wants to know if you are praying to God each day.

His homily hammered that point home: you not only need to be talking to God every day, you need to talk to God ALL day!

If we're honest, most of us would admit that the one person we talk to ALL day is ourselves. We might say to ourselves, "I wonder if so-and-so is going to call today" or "It looks like it's going to rain today" or maybe "I wonder what we're going to have for dinner today."

Fr. Kiernan didn't suggest that we stop talking to ourselves, but that we just add one word to the end of the sentence: LORD.
"I wonder if so-and-so is going to call today, LORD" or "It looks like it's going to rain today, LORD" or even "I wonder what we're going to have for dinner today, LORD."

"It's like magic!" Father Jim explained, "You were having a conversation with yourself and you let God listen in! That's praying!" Before long, he promised, we would be talking to God all day long.

St. Paul tells us to "Pray without ceasing." I've already been trying this for a few days, and let me tell you what a change it brings!

Now that You have welcomed your good and faithful servant home, please thank Father Jim for sharing this beautiful idea and his incredible life with us, LORD.