Teaching and learning the faith together
I made an infographic to explain the Spiritual Works of Mercy to the children in the faith formation classes. Each week I will teach about one work of mercy and then give some ideas as to how to practice it. At the beginning of the next session, we will discuss how the spiritual work was implemented and then go on to the next one. For a more in-depth explanation, go to the USCCB site.
A few years ago, as I was ushering my 3rd grade Sunday School class to our annual Advent confession day, I reminded them that Jesus was present in the Tabernacle. One of the girls repeated the word “Tabernacle” several times, as if chewing on the word, before proclaiming, “Tabernacle…that’s my favorite word!” It became the word that grounded us when lessons about the Trinity and Church teaching somehow became a weekly update about everyone’s pets. The Tabernacle was our anchor, and each class I reminded them that Jesus was present in that gold box called a Tabernacle whenever they saw that red sanctuary candle lit.
As our Church grapples with the sorrows of the past few months, I feel buoyed up by this memory. It reminds me that our Church is made of much more than the few people who have led us to disappointment and doubt, and I feel emboldened to pray the Creed. Yes, Lord I believe in One God…
I believe that there is a power in being a broken Church. Certainly the Apostles, who felt the corruption and blasphemy of the leaders of their faith at the Church’s very beginnings, must have felt similar emotions. Who can I trust? Is the Lord really present in this Church? Is it worth staying?
Years ago, when I lived in Rome, my parish was Sancta Maria in Trastevere. In the early Church, the taverns, 
which occupied the Church’s current location, became the very place where the Gospel was spread and hearts were converted to Christ. This bit of history reminds me that the Gospel is not meant to be experienced solely within the confines of the physical church building, and that Jesus Christ is not meant to be kept on reserve in the Tabernacle like a book in a library. Rather, we are all, priest and parishioner alike, meant to proclaim that Gospel and bring that Presence of Christ wherever we go. We are both Tabernacle and sanctuary candle, alive with Christ, present within us, and aflame with the joy of Love Incarnate.
A few years ago, the Holy Father challenged us to be “Missionary Disciples.” I think that, particularly now, we must also be Missionary Healers. Every person is wounded, even (and perhaps most especially) the wound-er. We must accept into our hearts the broken, those who feel alone and rejected. We must give them a resting place in our hearts so that they can experience the warmth of Christ’s Presence in our hearts. Often it is in this moment of mercy that I recognize He is really there.
The world is cold and dark, but His Presence is still aflame, even if it feels like the dying embers of a once roaring fire. The fact remains that light is more powerful than darkness. Even in the darkness we have the moon and stars for light, just as we have Our Lady and the saints (and each other!), giving us hope, pointing us to the sun we cannot see.
We must have faith even when those who promise to lead us go astray, and remain strong in our defense of Christ and His Church, even when our offense fails. We must pray for our leaders, our parish priests who are on the front lines, the offensive line, if you will, taking the hits even when the quarterback fumbles. We are the defense and special teams! We must support our faithful offense, the clergy, who lead us to closer to the endzone, to our Heavenly goal, to become saints in God’s kingdom.
Only God knows the trajectory of our Church. It is my hope, however, that this horrific experience will generate saints of all states of life. Our faith is stronger than sin, as it is made of the very Presence of Christ in our hearts, so long as we let Him remain there. We are living Tabernacles, charged with bringing healing to our broken world. Together we can rebuild His Church, a mission not unique to Saint Francis.
I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge that each of us is broken, wounded by sin, others, and the fallen world in which we live. To all of you, let Christ heal you! He accepts you, as broken as you are. You are never too broken for God.
When you find yourself feeling lost remember the anchor. You are a Tabernacle, Jesus Christ is with you, and you have a mission. Our Church will never crumble because Christ is truly present in our sanctuaries, in our hearts, and in those of countless other Christians. Wherever you are, at home or in your car, at work or school, in a bar or a tavern, you are a Missionary Healer, because you are His and He is yours.
If you’re Catholic, you’ve undoubtedly heard from someone, somewhere: “Offer it up.” It’s an unfortunate cliche nowadays, but it doesn’t have to be.
Suffering has merit if we don’t waste it. Our grief can become an immense gift not only to God but also to others. Through time, as we learn to manage our struggles with more patience and perseverance, we will learn that God has perhaps hidden something specific we can use from our experience with loss: mission.
Everyone wants a purpose in life, and we all were born with one. Yet unveiling it as we grow up and grow old doesn’t always happen clearly or smoothly. Sometimes it doesn’t happen at all.
Though God never intended for suffering, disease, sin, and death to enter into our lives, we must handle the consequences of Original Sin (thanks Adam and Eve) somehow. Jesus was the One to show us how.
Without the sin of our First Parents, we would never have needed Jesus. We wouldn’t have known Him or had the opportunity to be reconciled to Him. I wonder if we would have ever truly understood love. Through the example of Christ in His Passion, we can find meaning in our suffering, too.
Here are three ways you might come to grow as a result of whatever loss you are struggling to make sense of right now:
In God there is no darkness. Let your life reflect His light, then. Place your lamp on a lamp stand instead of under a bushel basket. Don’t hide in shame because of your loss. Be authentic and sincere to others, and they will see Jesus in you.
Paraphrased from my book, From Grief to Grace: The Journey from Tragedy to Triumph.
Text (c) Jeannie Ewing 2018, all rights reserved. Photo by Roberto Nickson (@g) on Unsplash
By now, most of us have been inundated with information about the Divine Mercy devotion popularized through St. Faustina’s Diary. But have we learned about how divine mercy itself aids us through grief as a healing balm for our wounds? Probably not.
It’s easy to take care of yourself in the immediate aftermath of loss: you make sure you are fed, clean, and get adequate rest. You drink enough water. You might take a walk or sit down to read a book. But what about the condition of your soul? Certainly we are a composite of mind, body, and soul, which are all intricately interconnected.
But we cannot neglect our souls. In fact, I strongly believe that, when we don’t face our deepest inner turmoil from a spiritual perspective, we will not ever be completely healed.
How does divine mercy give us the grace to experience lasting peace and permanent healing? I am not implying that grace alone will solve all of your suffering, nor that it’s not important – necessary at times, even – to seek medical or professional help in addition to turning to your faith. What I am saying is that if you truly wish to be deeply healed, you simply cannot overlook the value of sacramental grace.
Here is a way for you to understand how divine mercy plays an integral role in grief healing:
Divine mercy is the only means by which we can be fully restored and made whole after we have incurred grave losses. It’s not His obligation, but He cannot deny us this because of love. Mercy is the way God reaches our torn and tattered hearts after betrayals and breakups (p. 125 in my book, From Grief to Grace: The Journey from Tragedy to Triumph).
If you need some practical ways to experience the power of Divine Mercy, start with these:
Consider this quote from the Diary of St. Faustina (no. 1273). Read it as if Jesus is speaking directly to your heart. Ponder it throughout the week. Ask the Lord to reveal to you what it means for your particular cross right now:
There is no misery that could be a match for My mercy, neither will misery exhaust it, because as it is being granted, it increases. The soul that trusts in My mercy is most fortunate, because I Myself take care of it.
Friends, faith alone will not solve all of your ills. Neither, though, will prescriptions and therapy. Remember that your soul is the center, the wellspring of your existence. From it flows the Spring of Eternal Life. Access this spring so that you might discover true and lasting healing through mercy, as well as the other ways you care for your health.
I believe if we “seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness,” then truly “all these things will be given to you besides” (see Matthew 6:33).
Adapted from my book, From Grief to Grace: The Journey from Tragedy to Triumph.
Text (c) Jeannie Ewing 2018, all rights reserved. Photo by Fischer Twins on Unsplash
Popular counselors tend to affirm the common definition of grief in our western culture: that it is a period of designated mourning following the death of a loved one. While this is certainly true, it is a narrow and limited understanding of what grief encompasses. Perhaps that’s why it’s so hard for most of us to recognize when we are grieving.
What I have learned, both from personal experience and in my professional background, is that grief includes any significant and devastating loss. This could be the death of your beloved pet; the sudden loss of your job; a child born with a genetic condition or disability (as in our case); a spouse who has left you; caring for an elderly parent who is suffering from dementia; struggling in the aftermath of sexual assault; recovering from PTSD as a military veteran; making ends meet as a single mother; healing after abortion; hidden sorrow from a miscarriage or stillbirth.
There are countless life circumstances that trigger our grief experiences. This is by no means an exhaustive list, but it does help to get us thinking – or rethinking – about what grief is and how it affects us when life goes in a direction other than what we’d imagined.
Here are some points to remember when you are grieving:
My hope is that we will shift our focus from eschewing suffering to embracing it. A wonderful devotion for those who are suffering is the Divine Mercy chaplet and novena. We would all do well to extend mercy to ourselves and others who are grieving a loss.
(Note: I will include a separate post about Divine Mercy related to grief at a later date.)
Paraphrased from my book, From Grief to Grace: The Journey from Tragedy to Triumph.
Text (c) Jeannie Ewing 2018, all rights reserved. Photo by Francisco Moreno on Unsplash
As I reflected on this Sunday’s Gospel, the words of Jesus to the woman caught in adultery struck me. “Go, and from now on do not sin anymore.”
What must it have been like for this woman who was known for and identified by her sin? When Jesus forgives her she stands as a new creation, freed from her past.
Nevertheless, Jesus is aware that, while she is cleansed of her sin, she will encounter the same temptations, the same situations, and the same people and therefore cautions her and instructs her very clearly.
Jesus does not gloss over the fact that she has sinned. But he does look upon her with a gentle and merciful gaze because he wants to heal her from the harm wrought in her soul by sin. He desires to free her from the clutches of the evil one and give her the grace to follow the path God has for her.
We are given these same instructions every time we leave the confessional and after Mass to “go and sin no more.” In fact, they are of particular significance during our Lenten journey, a season of repentance and conversion of heart.
Jesus does not condemn us but he does take our sins seriously. He died for them, after all! He does not desire perfection for its own sake, but for our own freedom, that we might be restored to our original dignity and be drawn closer to His Sacred Heart.
But what if we don’t feel ready to change? What if we are not sorry? If you think you are the only person who struggles with these problems and questions, know that you have at least one other friend out there who finds herself in the midst of this struggle.
Fortunately, we don’t have to rely on ourselves to conquer our resistance to grace! The words of Jesus in today’s Gospel remind us that we are not bound by our past. Jesus’ redemptive and transformative grace is more powerful than if we had never sinned, because “God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). This kind of healing love is the answer to our feeble hearts.
Few people know that the Sacrament of Confession is a healing Sacrament. Only recently did I come to know this fact. So, sometimes when I approach the confessional, knowing that my heart is not “firmly resolved to sin no more” but willing it to be, I confess this state of my soul and ask for the healing necessary to be free from whatever is holding me back from doing the will of God and from letting go of my attachment to sin.
As we see in the image of the woman caught in adultery, the Lord comes to us, his children, as we are, knowing our sinfulness and our inability to choose the narrow path over what is easy. He not only forgives us but gives us a share in his power to resist temptation and choose life.
This invitation by Jesus to start anew reminded me of the following passage from the Old Testament that I encourage you to take to heart during your Lenten pilgrimage.
“I have set before you life and death, the blessing and the curse. Choose life, then, that you and your descendants may live, by loving the Lord your God, obeying his voice, and holding fast to him” (Deut 30: 19b, 20a).
The next time you enter the presence of the Blessed Sacrament or the Confessional, consider asking the Lord for this healing, to choose life.
When you leave Mass or exit the Confessional and hear those beautiful words of the priest, “go in peace,” remember the words of Jesus in the Gospel today and remember that his healing and grace is with you.
When I was looking over the readings for Lent the phrase that grabbed me by the heart was from the Responsorial Psalm for this Sunday, “Be with me, Lord, when I am in trouble.” This phrase is one I hope to carry throughout Lent.
In the First Reading for today from the Book of Joel, we see that a fast is proclaimed. However, in the announced time of penance it is not “every man for himself.” Joel clearly instructs the congregation to come together to proclaim a fast and petition God for mercy for the whole community.
This Lent, we might take the opportunity to intentionally come together as a family, as a classroom, as a prayer group, etc. to acknowledge this Lenten Season and pray together for God’s Mercy. Together, we can talk about how we can all work to turn towards God and away from sin.
Typically, conversations around Lent tend to formulated around the question, “What are you giving up?” But my experience has been that this leads to competition and quickly takes the focus off of Christ.
Because Lent can very easily become about us and what we are doing, it might be helpful to structure our Lenten journey around those opportunities when we meet as a family, prayer group, or parish. The very act of coming together connects us with the One in whose Name we are gathered and makes us aware of the Presence of God in our midst. It is in this context that we often hear God’s voice calling us to conversion and transformation.
Gathering as a community enables us to remember our dependence upon each other and upon God as we recognize our own needs and those of others. We can so easily desensitize ourselves to our longing for God. We operate on autopilot, forgetting to call upon the Lord for help. We forget that he is always upholding our existence, always ready to come to our aid. But the Liturgy this week reminds us of our desire for God to be with us, and of the reality of His continuous presence among us each day.
With our brothers and sisters in the Lord, let us invite Him into our joys and sorrows. Let us recognize the needs of others and petition the Lord for His mercy. We do this each week at Mass during the Intercessions, but is there space for this kind of prayer at home at the dinner table or before bed? Do we pray with our neighbors, co-workers, friends, and those God puts in our lives? These experiences can be very humbling and nerve-wracking, but never once have I regretted praying with others, especially with the sick and the dying. It is less about saying the right thing and more about “being with” the person as God has promised to be with us.
By strengthening ourselves in prayer, we can make this Season of Lent a time of evangelization. Because we recognize our own need of Communion with God and others, we can see the longing in the hearts of others who may have less opportunity for connection. It is not up to us to save or fix others, but God does ask us to be His witnesses, His disciples, His conduits of grace. By being with someone, by recognizing the goodness in his or her soul, we reflect back to that person God’s presence in his or her soul.
When we pray with others we exercise our baptismal roles as priest, prophet and king. We are able to call upon the name of the Lord and invoke His intercession as we have the Spirit within us who knows how to pray, even when
we do not. We are able to testify as prophets to God’s promise of salvation and His love for all people. We who are children of God and co-heirs with Christ in God are able to ask “anything” of Him. Do we have the courage to do this? Do we ask God for the eyes to see and the ears to hear those around us who need someone to accompany them?
This Lent, I encourage you to ask yourself how the Lord might be calling you to community. Where is He asking you to be with others and where is he calling you to serve? How can you help bring God’s love and mercy into that community? How can you bring that love and mercy into your own heart in order to transform it into a version much like Christ’s own Sacred Heart?
The Call
Yesterday morning I took the walk of shame down the side aisle of the Chapel, 5 minutes late and we were already at the Gospel. Frustrated and feeling confirmation that I was definitely a failure at absolutely everything if I couldn’t even make it to Mass on time, I then listened to the Gospel and underneath my gritted teeth felt a sense of relief and the first sign of a smile since yesterday. Having experienced a personal failure a week ago (joining the ranks of the unemployed), I felt comforted by the life and example of Peter.
In the Call of Peter in Mark’s Gospel, which we read yesterday, Jesus clarifies Peter’s vocation and asks him to leave behind what he thought defined him for a life of intimacy and trust in the Lord rather than in the success of the work of his hands.
Similarly, in Luke’s account of the Call of Peter, Jesus uses a moment of failure (on the part of Peter to provide fish after working all night) to reveal His identity as the Son of God while also challenging Peter to discover his own identity, not as a fisherman but as Jesus calls him in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, a “fisher of men.” John’s Gospel recounts a somewhat different, but not inconsistent, first encounter. Here Jesus also reveals to Peter (then Simon) his identity by renaming him Cephas (Peter).
Let It Go!
As we see in our scriptural pilgrimage, it takes Peter a while to really let go of what he thinks constitutes his identity, as well as his ideas of the Messiah and how His glory should be manifested. We see this when he fails to walk on water, when he rebukes Jesus for predicting his crucifixion, and when he denies Jesus three times.
He may have left behind his fisherman’s nets but there are still many figurative nets holding him back from receiving the truth of his identity as well as what it means to be an Apostle, probably because he is unable to believe the totality of Jesus’s identity which He holds unfolds (albeit sometimes cryptically) to Peter and the others.
Nets
So often we, too, link our accomplishments and the outcomes of our efforts to our identity so that, if and when they fail to measure up to our standards or those of others, we judge ourselves to be inadequate and are quickly overtaken by tidal waves of unworthiness. We assess ourselves by how productive work was, the number on the scale, the number of miles we ran, positive feedback, approval of others, or any other combination of worldly measures of success. It is not wrong that we have aspirations, but it is not true that these standards have any bearing on our identity and worthiness of God’s love and mercy. What are the “nets” we cling to for a sense of acceptance and worthiness that, although they may be part of our calling, are not essential to our identity? Do we need to put them down as Jesus instructs Peter in the Gospels of Mark and Matthew? Or do we need to trust in Jesus’s intercession and instruction as we see in Luke?
Do we struggle to put down these nets because we have a hard time believing in Jesus as truly God, as truly more powerful than our little mistakes or failures to “make something of ourselves?” Yes we can know the truth intellectually, but do we really believe in Jesus, in His power and authority over sin and death, and in the truth that our identity comes from Him rather than our accomplishments or lackthereof?
When Our Nothingness Encounters God’s Mercy
When we experience failure before the Lord we can become afraid and the shame we feel can be a barrier to further intimacy with him. But these encounters with our weaknesses are often the point of entry for the Lord, just as they were teaching moments and opportunities for Peter.
I think often of how ashamed Peter must have felt in Luke’s account of the Call of Peter. He would have felt a similar sense of failure throughout his journey with Jesus, however, Jesus uses these opportunities to fill the emptiness in Peter’s heart with His light and truth, which Peter will more fully embrace at Pentecost.
Saint Therese’s thoughts on this passage, recorded in Divine Intimacy by Father Gabriel of Saint Mary Magdalene, give us a refreshing outlook on what Jesus can do with our failures. She writes, “Had the Apostle caught some small fish, perhaps our divine Master would not have, worked a miracle; but he had caught nothing, and so through the power and goodness of God his nets were soon filled with great fishes. Such is Our Lord’s way. He gives as God, with divine generosity, but He insists on humility of heart.”
In her italics, Therese shows us the keys (no pun intended) to how Peter learned to follow the Lord. We will often find ourselves in the “nothing” stage. This is where the Lord’s grace is most efficacious. However, she warns that He “insists on humility of heart.” This means that we must, like Peter, let go of our fear of failure and put our whole trust in the Jesus and let him be Who He says He is, God!
Now imagine how Jesus looked at Peter in his moments of failure, for example, after a full night of reeling in net after net of nothing. Or when Jesus, after His Resurrection asks Peter if he loves Him. His gaze must have been quite the opposite of Peter’s inward gaze of self-judgment, which actually distorts his perception of how Jesus sees him.
As was the case with Peter, Jesus looks upon our failures with mercy, not with shame, impatience, disgust, etc. He may not immediately reveal His glory in our failures, that usually takes time. We may not reel in a miraculous abundance of tangible goods. Most of our failures will probably require at least a bit of waiting and trusting that eventually Jesus will use this emptiness or failure for His glory and His plan for our welfare…not woe.
Spoiler Alert! (We Will Live Happily Ever After)
Peter, whose blunders are so frequent in the Gospels, shows us that we too can achieve greatness. His ministry most likely did not feel or look successful. It looked much like that of Christ whose life and ministry was looked upon as a failure up until the Resurrection. So also our lives may appear to be lacking in value, but if we remain under the gaze of Jesus and strive to live in the truth of our identity as Children of God, we will achieve the greatest success, sainthood.
Someday, in Heaven, we will hopefully be able chat with Peter, praise God, and laugh about our failures which were transformed into our greatest moments of sanctity. We might feel like we are currently getting a poor return for our efforts, but trust in the example of Peter, it’s worth the struggle!
On my walk to the metro the other day, past houses illuminated with brightly colored lights (which were put up too early) and festive cheer, I found myself feeling irritated, lonely, and discouraged.
But this is Advent. I’m supposed to be happy. I work for the Church, so why am I not more excited?
The answer hit me like a snowball to the face.
One of the reasons why my heart has been restless is because I have been so critical of the “happy holidays” culture, separating myself from those who are not more traditional. In an attempt to celebrate Advent “successfully” (whatever that looks like), I put myself above anyone who does not observe this pentential season the “right” way.
I have fallen yet again into the, “I’m not one of those people mentality.”
How many times have we all said this, especially during Advent? Do any of these situations sound familiar?
If we did shop, our shopping was completely justified…we’re not one of those rediculous 3am shoppers…Is this having the effect we really want? Is this really the Christian response? Are we so liturgically rigid that we deny returning charity to others of good will?
These “others” are trying to spread joy in that same secular world which told Mary and Joseph that there was no room for them. Do we not give them room in our hearts? Are we too busy complaining that it isn’t the right time to sing “Joyful Joyful We Adore Thee” that we forget to recognize and adore the presence of Christ whose love is incarnate in the smiling person before us?
Just because it is not the proper time to sing “Joy to the World” our Savior still reigns and we still can be joyful! We can still help others’ hearts unfold before us, opening to the Son of God.
In all of this holiday mania let us be lights of joy and let us receive others as lights of joy. Christ came in the most unexpected place on that first Christmas day, and we have the opportunity to meet him in those very people we are so quick to judge, those who “take Christ out of Christmas.”
No one can really take Christ out of Christmas. Our challenge is to recognize Christ in those place where he is needed most, and bring his love and light into the darkness. As Christians we cannot just ignore the darkness and those who are thirsting within it for a savior.
It was His Heart that beat under the heart of Our Lady waiting to be born for the salvation of the world. It was His Heart that cured the sick, forgave the sinner, and fed the hungry. It was His Heart that beat on the Cross for us and still beats for us in Heaven. It is His Heart that beats within our own Hearts. The question is, are we willing to bring that love into the world?
Christ sees us all men and women as his children, he does not evaluate us as “happy holidays” people or “Merry Christmas” people.
If we find ourselves frustrated by the culture, by the fact that our ministry makes it difficult to pray, or if this season brings with it personal challenges and struggles, let us be consoled by the truth that Christ comes into the world each time at Mass and is always present in our hearts and in the hearts of others.
Whether or not we do Christmas or Advent “right,” no matter when we put out our Christmas lights and decorations, he still comes, for he is always faithful.
My husband Manny and I are excited to join several stellar speakers for a February 2016 online event called Faces of Mercy, produced by CatholicConference4Moms. Over 4,000 Catholic women registered for last year’s event. Manny and I will be speaking on Mercy in Marriage and the power of forgiveness to make your marriage strong, long-lasting, and joyful. Other presentations cover a wide range of topics such as teaching children how to forgive, overcoming evil through showing mercy, lessons on Divine Mercy from St. Faustina, and the role of mercy in combating pornography addiction.
This year’s amazing line-up of presenters includes:
Conference organizer Tami Kiser has brought to life an extraordinary way of entering into the meaning of Christ’s mercy during this Year of Mercy, starting on December 8, 2015, that Pope Francis has declared for the Church. Pre-recorded talks from the Faces of Mercy conference will be available to registrants on demand. Parishes can schedule a viewing at their convenience, and individuals can download and listen whenever they want throughout all of Lent. Plus, on February 20, 2016, Jennifer Fulwiler will be speaking live at 10:30 a.m. EST, and moms can gather virtually at 3 p.m. for live stream praying of the Divine Mercy chaplet.
A special option available this year is for parishes to host the talks as a Lenten retreat. This is a great way to rejuvenate faith and trust in God during the cold winter months before we celebrate Christ’s resurrection! The CatholicConference4Moms website has all the information for parish participation here.
Please consider registering either as an individual or on behalf of your parish, if you’re a catechist or religious education director. May Christ shower his mercy and blessings upon you!
To learn more about Karee and her marriage ministry, click here, and to get the free eBook, Marriage Rx: 50 Inspirational Quotes to Make Your Marriage Better Today, click here.
Copyright 2015 Karee Santos.