The other day I came across this comment on Catholic social media: “We often think saintliness is the product of the right circumstances. If only we had more time, we would pray. If only there were no annoying people, we could love others. If only nothing bad ever happened, we might be thankful and patient. But holiness isn’t a matter of perfect circumstances. They don’t exist. Holiness is what we do with imperfect circumstances.”
The problem of evil, inside and outside of the Church, is nothing new. The problem is that we become complacent in the struggle. Like a war that drags on and on, there are times when there are lulls in the fighting and the danger of being caught off guard becomes very real. We may be tempted at times to look for the lulls, to desire a misunderstood notion of peace, namely a lack of hostility or struggle, but for the Christian, this can never be the case.
In Matthew’s Gospel, the Lord Jesus states: from the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent are taking it by force (Matthew 11:12). Evil is at work in the world and it seeks to do two things. First, it seeks to prevent souls from coming to Christ and entering into his kingdom, or, second, it seeks to separate those souls from Christ who have already chosen him and life in the kingdom. Each of us individually is called to respond to the problem of evil. We need to answer the call to holiness. We need to answer the call to become saints.

Now that sounds like a tall order, but it isn’t. Let’s take a moment and look at the big “S” saints, those who have been formally canonized by the Church. Why were they canonized? It was not because they were miracle workers (God works the miracles) or because of the pious legends associated with them, but rather because of the quality of their lives. For those who did not suffer martyrdom, before the Church ever looks at purported miracles, it first looks into the life of a candidate for what is termed heroic virtue. This type of virtue is not to be confused with perfection. Heroic virtue is the result of an imperfect soul living this life in cooperation with the grace of God. It is living defiantly for Christ in the face of evil and the temptation to be absorbed by self-interest.
The Saints have not been declared so by any unique merit of their own, but because they allowed the grace of God to be living and effective in them, by living ordinary lives in extraordinary ways, many times in adversity. The same graces that were offered to them are offered to each of us. Like the saints, we have to want the grace of God, to cooperate with it, and, at times to seek that grace out. If we are simply waiting for the perfection of times and circumstances, then we are going to have to wait until the Lord’s return when he will make all things new. We cannot wish dark times away. We are called to act, to be light that scatters the darkness. The world needs our witness. The world needs us to be striving to become saints.
In the great novel The Fellowship of the Ring, part of The Lord of the Rings trilogy by J. R. R. Tolkien, an unlikely character named Frodo is given a tremendous and unenviable task of having to destroy a ring associated with a great and evil power. To destroy the ring will take great effort and sacrifice on his part. He laments this task to his friend and guide named Gandalf.
Frodo states: “I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.” Gandalf replies: “So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. There are other forces at work in this world, Frodo, besides the will of evil.”
God’s grace is present in the world and he wants that grace to be manifested and working in our lives each day. When we want that too, then evil is pushed back, darkness recedes, and the Kingdom is advanced. Times are not perfect, life is challenging, but the Kingdom is worth fighting for. Answer the call to become a saint, not waiting until heaven, but striving for it here and now.
Father Christopher House is the Rector of the Cathedral and serves in various leadership roles within the diocesan curia, namely Chancellor and Vicar Judicial.
Many of you may have witnessed quite a setup on Wednesday evenings after you come out of daily Mass. We have the linens out, pitchers of cool refreshments, a team busily working to set out quite a spread of food, and usually me struggling to get technology perfect. If you were to stay for the Alpha session you would witness even more hospitality. This program has introduced many to the loving and welcoming embrace of Jesus Christ through open discussion and dialogue. We have had Catholics, non-Catholics, searchers and seekers of all different walks of life. Particularly, we have served guests that others, like in the Second Reading this week, may have shut out. This is radical hospitality, and there is a case to be made for why Cathedral should be the epicenter of radical hospitality.
When Father House introduced me to the parish, he mentioned that one of my responsibilities is to help the parish implement the goals of the recent synod. This is a responsibility I gratefully embrace. Despite my great love for the Missions and the privilege it was to serve as diocesan mission director for over 15 years, helping to build a community of fervent and intentional disciples is the ministry I have been longing to do for the past several years. And honestly, the Cathedral parish is the place I most want to do this. I am excited about the unique mix of parishioners and visitors that makes up this community. Because we have so many visitors with us, especially at daily and weekend Masses, we have a special opportunity for evangelization and hospitality. The Cathedral has always been known for excellent Liturgy, and we are going to make sure it continues to be all that it can be to provide people with a transcendent experience of God in the midst of a welcoming community.
I love watching replays of great sports highlights. Sometimes you see something so extraordinary that you tell others they have to see it to believe it. The one-handed catch, the in-the-park home run, and the photo finish are all examples of these types of moments. They are amazing feats that boggle the mind.
When my wife and I put our house on the market, by the grace of God we had three showings in less than a week. It occurred to me that when people I have never met come into my home, I often wonder what goes through their mind as they enter and take the inevitable tour. It’s probably quite obvious that we are a family with many children as there is a bunk bed and a single bed surrounded by toy boxes full of weaponry and basketballs in one room and a crib accompanied by a play kitchen and pink, frilly dolls in another. However, another aspect that simply can’t escape the inquisitor is that this home is also one where religion is a deeply rooted aspect of the family dynamic. Specifically, a Catholic dynamic.
I have been hesitant to dive into the conversation surrounding the latest scandals, but working to promote good stewardship and discipleship leads me to many Catholics who question why. The questions I have received include: “How can I support a church with this type of scandal?”: “Why are we asked to practice good stewardship when others clearly have not?”: and the most common, “What happens now?” Personally, I too am upset, confused, disappointed and fooled. I had the opportunity to meet and sit with one of the accused at a Catholic Awards conference, and yes, this man was being honored. Looking back at that experience, I am left feeling fooled for having thought this was a man of God, a Shepherd, a model for Christian discipleship.
As football season comes to its long-anticipated start, it seems the nation has been cast into a frenzy of excitement. I can’t recall the number of times I’ve heard, “It’s finally football season again!” and “Thank God for Sundays!” in some form or another. And yes, I agree. I love football (especially college football), and I’m glad it’s back.

When I was going through school, the devil was presented to us as a myth, a literary device, a symbolic manner of signaling the presence of evil in the world. I will admit to internalizing this view and largely losing my sense of the d e v i l a s a r e a l spiritual person. What shook my agnosticism in regard to the evil one was the clerical sex abuse scandal of the nineties and the early aughts. I say this because that awful crisis just seemed too thought-through, too well-coordinated, to be simply the result of chance or wicked human choice. The devil is characterized as “the enemy of the human race” and particularly the enemy of the Church. I challenge anyone to come up with a more devastatingly effective strategy for attacking the mystical body of Christ than the abuse of children and young people by priests. This sin had countless direct victims of course, but it also crippled the Church financially, undercut vocations, caused people to lose confidence in Christianity, dramatically compromised attempts at evangelization, etc., etc. It was a diabolical masterpiece.
Sometime in the early aughts, I was attending a conference and found myself wandering more or less alone in the area where groups and organizations had their booths. I came over to one of the tables and the woman there said, “You’re Fr. Barron, aren’t you?” I replied affirmatively, and she continued, “You’re doing good work for the Church, but this means that the devil wants to stop you. And you know, he’s a lot smarter than you are and a lot more powerful.” I think I just mumbled something to her at that moment, but she was right, and I knew it. All of this has come back to me in the wake of the Archbishop McCarrick catastrophe. St. Paul warned us that we battle, not against flesh and blood, but against “powers and principalities.” Consequently, the principal work of the Church at this devastating moment ought to be prayer, the conscious and insistent invoking of Christ and the saints.