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.
At many parishes, Alpha consists primarily of a crowd of parishioners. What has been surprising at Cathedral is that while we do serve many parishioners, some of the most engaged participants have been those whom we have never met before. I won’t say names, but at least two tables I have led have provided me the opportunity to step out of my comfort zone and to witness exactly what the Second Reading is calling us to do this week. James 2: 1-5 is short and to the point. How are we to consider ourselves intentional disciples if we only surround ourselves with what is comfortable or known? How many times did Jesus perform miracles to outsiders, lay hands on the “unclean,” or provide ministry to the outcasts? The answer: All. The. Time. This is radical hospitality, not the typical donuts after Mass or the fancy entryway and kiosk. While both are nice, neither are radical.

Cathedral is just the place to be radical. We share Communion each week with about 50% guests in our pews. We serve the community at large as they ring the doorbell at the church offices looking for help. We answer calls of searchers and seekers who don’t know how they got here, but who know something is calling them to Jesus. We are a hotspot for radical hospitality. Where do we begin? Well, start today in the pews. Notice anyone unfamiliar around you? Reach out a hand and say “Hello,” or send over a friendly smile. Ultimately, radical hospitality starts with each of us—so why not start now?
Katie Price is the Coordinator for Stewardship at the Cathedral. She can be contacted by calling the Parish Offices or emailing her directly at [email protected].
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.
This Sunday is the fifth and last Sunday of our journey through the sixth chapter of John’s Gospel known as the Bread of Life Discourse. Beginning with feeding of the five thousand with five loaves and two fish, Jesus seeks to move the crowd to understand that in him is something far greater than the wonder of the loaves and fishes. He is the Bread that has come down from heaven and he repeatedly tells the crowd in this chapter that whoever eats his flesh and drinks his blood will live forever. As one can imagine, this teaching by the Lord Jesus causes quite a stir among his audience.
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.
With the publication of a partially redacted Grand Jury report detailing the often stomach-turning actions of over 300 priests in Pennsylvania, and the equally repugnant actions of too many bishops working to conceal rather than reveal these criminal sins, the week has felt “apocalyptic” in the truest sense of the word: there is a great revelation, a great revealing, beginning to unfold throughout the Church.