How can someone have authority over my stewardship?

This week in the Gospel we are learning about Jesus’ authority. The Gospel tells us how Jesus departed from the traditional habits of the teachers in the synagogues to teaching with new authority. Of course, his authority came from God, but people were “astonished” because this occurred early on in his ministry and was not the norm. In the second part of the Gospel, Jesus expels a demon. But also in non-traditional habit for the day, he does so much quicker, not relying on long ceremonies or ordeals which often did not work. Jesus did not need to rely on ceremonies because He had the authority of God, the same authority we referred to earlier in the Gospel. The positive reaction from the people when He ministered with this authority started to build their trust in the Lord, the same trust we should have with him.

God is the authority in our lives. In fact, while we may personally discern our stewardship practices, he is the real authority that reminds us that all we have, is what is needed. In most instances who has authority also has priority. This authority is linked to a Christian Steward’s way of life. Stewards consider giving their first fruits in return for all the gifts they have received from God. Each breath we take, each child we hold, each family member we cherish is a gift. A gift we are to return.

With God at the helm of stewardship, how could anyone go astray? But, as many of us know, we have. The culture seems to have lost the voice of authority. We have lost the authentic sense of giving. We give because we are told to by some other authority. There is a carrot at the end of that gift, not a holiness achieved. For example, in speaking with a group of friends who are parents of young children, I heard of the responsibilities to give time and money to this or that. However, the conversation had a tone of frustration or anger, like “how dare the school ask me to give more.” Despite knowing charity is needed to support many of our Catholic missions, we typically need to be reminded to do it, and even asked. I wonder what a community looks like when everyone is freely giving? Giving with no “checkbox” next to their name, giving without condition, giving to the fullest extent, freely, without reminders and without the need to ask for more because more is always given.

Part of an interesting exercise I get to be a part of each week, is watching my daughter “withdraw” from her piggy bank to share what she has with the Parish. In no organized fashion (clearly accounting might not be in our future) she takes a handful of her coins and throws them into her purse, never hesitating or counting. Her measurement is the size of her hand, but in comparison to what she has, that is close to everything. She like many other kids, have a natural ability to give. Often without asking, if they see someone in need they try to help. Sadly, when many adults see someone in need we avoid eye contact and try to go the other way. There is so much we can learn from these little people in our lives. Sure, they may not have the bills to pay, the responsibilities we have, but they do know the value of giving. Understanding that it was God wants for them and as authority in their lives, they act to please Him first. What authority are we placing before God’s in our lives?

Katie Price is the Coordinator of Stewardship for the Cathedral.

No, the tagline for this article is not a mistake nor are we jumping the gun because, believe it or not, A s h We d n e s d a y a n d t h e beginning of Lent is less than three weeks away. With that in mind, I thought it might be good for us to being to turn our minds toward this holy season. Like many things in life, what you get out of Lent will depend on what you put into it and, with Lent, attitude is everything. I will confess that in my younger days that I saw Lent as nothing more than a forty-day slog through drudgery and Friday nights of limited options for going out to eat; once again, attitude is everything. So how do we see/approach Lent?

Lent is a great love story. It may not seem to be so on the surface but what is the season all about? If we first focus on sacrifice, self-denial, and penance then we will be placing our focus in the wrong area. Lent is a great love story because it is about a God, our God, who has a love for us that is unbreakable, unrelenting, and inexhaustible, even though we are guilty of rejecting his love time and time again. The selections that the Church gives us from the Scriptures demonstrate this. We are reminded that God has chosen us to be his own and that he has done this is a wonderful way in his only Son through baptism. Through sin, we have squandered the grace that God has given us through this sacrament, but Lent is about a call to return to that grace again. This is what the first four and a half weeks of the season speak to, from Ash Wednesday until the Fifth Sunday.

The second part of Lent continues to tell that same great love story but recalls how this love of God was perfectly manifested in the Paschal Mystery of Jesus, that is, in his passion, death, and resurrection. The fifth week of Lent transitions us to Holy Week which ends with the triumph of Easter. It is at this glorious feast that we renew our baptismal promises, having focused on allowing God to renew the grace of that same sacrament in us throughout Lent.

Sacrifice and self-denial are our responses to the gift of God’s grace that is offered to us for our renewal. The penances and pious acts that we may choose to adopt are not ends in themselves, but acts by which we seek to root out in our lives what does not belong so that the grace of God may find a welcome place deep in our lives. The same is true about the reception of Ashes on Ash Wednesday. The ashes we receive are nothing more than the ash of old palms that has been blessed. There is nothing mystical about the ashes in themselves. What is important about the ashes is that we receive them as an outward sign of an inner desire to change our lives, to be converted back to right relationship with God. Ashes and pious acts of sacrifice and self-denial must come from a genuine desire to change; if not then these acts are empty.

There are many things that we can do for Lent: add daily Mass to our daily routine, pray the Stations of the Cross, ready the Scriptures daily, participate in giving to CRS Rice Bowl, give alms in the special collections for charity, give your time to a good cause, add time for daily prayer, and the list goes on and on. Whatever you may do or not do, make whatever choice you do in the hope of growing deeper in the love that God has for you. Lent is not about what do I have to give up but rather how can I respond to the Lord’s call to turn back to him. The first reading of Lent on Ash Wednesday begins God’s word spoken through the Prophet Joel: “even now, says the Lord, return to me with your whole heart.” Make sure that this coming Lent is about your journey going deep into the grace, love, and mercy that is freely offered to us by our God through Jesus.

Father Christopher House is the Rector-Pastor of the Cathedral and serves in various leadership roles within the diocesan curia.

The relics of holy people – parts of the body after death , item sused during life – are a fundamental part of mankind’s religious imagination

One of the world’s most remarkable Christian relics, the right forearm and hand of St. Francis Xavier, the great 16th-century Jesuit missionary, is on a pilgrimage across Canada this month.

We hosted the relic in Kingston, Ont., this week, with thousands venerating the relic in our cathedral, after the students at the chaplaincy on campus completed an all-night prayer vigil in the presence of the relic. No doubt the enormous number that came by day were the fruit of the prayer by night.

English Canada’s religious culture is largely shaped by a Protestantism that does not emphasize the relics of the saints. In a secular culture that does not recognize saints, their relics hold no interest.

But it is humanly impossible for a culture to exist without relics. Even those who turn murderously against God need their relics. The communists drenched the soil of Russia with the blood of tens of thousands of priests, burned their churches and attempted to abolish their faith, only to install in the Kremlin their own unholy sepulchre, with Vladimir Lenin still on display for his dwindling faithful. The real holy sepulchre in Jerusalem is, of course, empty, which makes all the difference.

Others simply lose interest in the things of God, and flock instead to the hall of fame to see the sweat-soaked jersey of this superlative hockey player, or the puck that scored that historic goal. An entire global restaurant chain, The Hard Rock Café, was built on the premise that a burger is better when dining in the presence of Eric Clapton’s guitar.

Biblically the power of relics goes back to the defining moment of the Jewish people, the exodus from Egypt, when Moses carried the bones of Joseph, son of Jacob (Israel), from slavery toward the promised land. The prophet Elisha’s bones were the occasion for a corpse returning to life. In the New Testament, we find that even handkerchiefs and aprons touched to St. Paul were brought to the sick for their healing.

In Islam, hairs of the Prophet Muhammad are treated with great reverence and preserved in several Islamic holy places.

This universal desire to honour relics shapes the noble practice of visiting graves, and keeping as heirlooms items used by beloved relatives — often prayer cards, books, jewelry or clothing. Today, the cutting edge of the funeral industry fashions new jewelry out of cremated remains.

So it should not surprise that when important relics from Christian history are taken on pilgrimage, the response of the faithful is both numerically impressive and profoundly moving. And among relics, the forearm and hand relic of St. Francis Xavier is one of the most impressive. There are few relics — short of incorrupt bodies, which are miraculously preserved from normal decomposition — as large. The body of St. Francis Xavier itself is incorrupt, venerated for more than 400 years in the cathedral of Goa, India, the site of his most impressive missionary work. It is only the forearm and hand that is kept in Rome, and which is now visiting Canada.

The pilgrimage is being organized by Catholic Christian Outreach (CCO), a movement of full-time missionaries on uni – versity campuses, which is another sign that the young faithful are often more inter – ested in their religious tradi – tions than their parents. But the pilgrimage is for everyone, and when the relic visits the St. Francis Xavier parish in Mississauga, Ont., on Sat – urday — a parish with many immigrants from Goa in its history — it will be all generations on hand. Indeed, one of the missionary couples of CCO had a baby boy last week and named him Xavier.

It’s a rare honor — and responsibility — for Canada’s young Catholics to host such a continental tour. The relic itself must be accompanied at all times, even on flights between cities, which is why it travels in a seat on the plane, not as cargo. The young man accompanying the relic, D’Arcy Murphy, noted that it is like the Stanley Cup in that way. Except that after 9/11, even the Stanley Cup goes into the (special) luggage hold. And except that it is unlikely that after 465 years it will be still around.

The visit of St. Francis Xavier’s relic has occasioned much curious and informative news coverage, which is to the good because it tells the true story of religion in Canada, namely that tradition is more attractive to young people than innovations, and that immigrants are making our country more religious, not less. I often visited St. Francis Xavier’s relic during my years of study in Rome. Having it in Canada is like welcoming an old friend for a visit — and introducing him to thousands of new friends.  Father Raymond J. de Souza is a chaplain to Newman House, the Roman Catholic mission at Queen’s University, Kingston, Ontario. Reprinted with Permission by Catholic Education Resource Center

Why? There are many reasons for this unreasonable view of reason, not least because reason can threaten what we believe, because it’s not emotionally stimulating, because some view it as manipulative, and because it’s hard work.

2  Reasoning may cause me to change my beliefs. By its very nature, reasoning stimulates the intellect rather than the emotions. Pseudo-reasoning can be employed to manipulate people. But authentic reasoning takes work, especially when an issue is complex, or laden with passion. We have minds. We are able to think, and reasoning helps us to think more clearly in the sense of conforming our thinking to reality. Man, as St. John Paul II observed in Fides et Ratio, is unique in his ability to reason: “Within visible creation, man is the only creature who not only is capable of knowing but who knows that he knows, and is therefore interested in the real truth of what he perceives.”

Reasoning may not validate “the wisdom of the world”, as authentic reasoning proceeds from the Creator, while “the wisdom of the world” proceeds from human/temporal motives that are often at odds with truth.

Just because someone has scientific training doesn’t mean they are good reasoners. I’ve worked with scientists and engineers my whole career, and have experienced (and contributed) plenty of lackluster reasoning.

Some of the best, widely read reasoners of the twentieth century — G. K. Chesterton, C. S. Lewis, and Fulton Sheen — were intentional Christians. Faith linked to reason is more aligned with reality/creation than faith that ignores, or is dismissive of, reason. Not to say that goodness increases with better reasoning skills, but to the extent that one becomes a better reasoner, and better aligned with reality/creation, one ought to experience an attraction to truth. And while goodness may prevail in the absence of a regard for reasoning, it’s easier for someone to be manipulated when reasoning is absent, or scorned.

In a word, reasoning helps us to see creation more clearly, as it truly is. Scrupulously weighing evidence, considering different perspectives, separating evidence from speculation and dissimulation, making sure arguments are logically consistent, avoiding ad hominem attacks, tamping down emotion — challenging, even for practitioners of the art of reasoning.

As with any skill, reasoning must be learned and practiced. In a recent Wall Street Journal review of Alan Jacobs’ new book How to Think, Barton Swaim states: “What makes Mr. Jacobs so refreshing is that he considers bad thinking not as a cognitive problem but as a volitional one. The problem, he thinks, isn’t one of ‘overcoming bias’. Everyone is biased, especially those who think they’ve overcome their biases. ‘The fundamental problem we have may best be described as an orientation of the will: we suffer from a settled determination to avoid thinking’…Mr. Jacobs insists we must try harder.”

Right reasoning works from reliable evidence to conclusions, so learning to distinguish between reliable and unreliable evidence is essential. One of the most bizarre things you’ll ever hear is that we’re composed of atoms that were produced inside stars billions of light years from Earth — atoms that may have been part of a dinosaur two hundred million years ago, or part of an olive tree in Jesus’ Garden of Gethsemane, but the evidence suggests this is so. Reliable evidence can lead us in many directions, some familiar and some unfamiliar, though most of the time evidence has to do with matters more mundane than where atoms originated, and is more likely to confirm what we believe if we are already inclined to rely on reason.

We may accept inconclusive evidence when we need to reach a conclusion, or if in a situation in which not taking action may produce dire consequences. In such cases, conclusions might be provisional. As for consensus, it’s worthy of consideration, but consensus isn’t evidence, and is often wrong.

Distinguishing between evidence-based conclusions and speculation isn’t easy. Speculation is a marvelous human talent, but when it adopts the veneer of evidence it impedes reasoning. An example is a Wall Street Journal article entitled, “Recent Hurricanes Strain U.S. Towns’ Aging Sewer Systems”, in which the article states: “Hurricanes Harvey and Irma…exposed the failings of aging sewer systems that were unable to cope with the heavy rainfall and flooding.” There was nothing in this article, including the “expert” opinions, that connected the flooding problems in the Houston region with aging sewers. In fact, these sewers simply weren’t designed to handle such an apocalyptic storm.

Another example is the progression from reliable evidence of conditions on other worlds that may favor life as we know it, to speculation about the existence of life there, without clearly separating what is known (evidence) from what isn’t (speculation). While the muddying of boundaries between evidence and speculation is often inadvertent, when dissimulation is practiced, manipulation is intended. Sometimes, dissimulation weaves reliable evidence and falsehoods to produce a convincing fabric, and because dissumulators know human emotions can trump reason, they are good at stirring our passions.

Practiced reasoners are more likely to distinguish evidencebased conclusions from speculation, and are less susceptible to dissimulation, but, paradoxically, the better we become at reasoning, the more we are aware of our human limitations, including our intellectual limitations.

Civility is enhanced by a commitment to reasoning. A practitioner of reasoning is concerned with the evidence for, or substance of, an argument, rather than the “worthiness” of the person making the argument. The too-common practice of refuting an argument by labeling someone a liar, idiot, or deceiver indicates a deficit of intellectual rigor and character.

Today, we are deluged with information, voices, images, and pitches. It’s not a matter of tuning out, but one of fine tuning our minds to truth, mindful that reason and faith are not enemies. On the contrary, as John Paul II insisted, “reason and faith cannot be separated without diminishing the capacity of men and women to know themselves, the world and God in an appropriate way.”

  Thomas M. Doran is a professional engineer with over 35 years of experience

What we should, or should not, render unto Caesar shapes much of our daily discourse as citizens…

The key word in Christ’s answer is “image,” or in the Greek, eikon… in the New Testament, the “image” of something shares in the nature of the thing itself…. Once we understand this, the impact of Christ’s response to his enemies becomes clear. Jesus isn’t being clever. He’s not offering a political commentary. He’s making a claim on every human being. he’s saying, “render unto Caesar those things that bear Caesar’s image, but more importantly, render unto God that which bears God’s image” — in other words, you and me. All of us.

And that raises some unsettling questions: What do you and I, and all of us really render to God in our personal lives? If we claim to be disciples then what does that actually mean in the way we speak and the way we act?

Thinking about the relationship of Caesar and God, religious faith and secular authority, is important. It helps us sort through our different duties as Christians and citizens. But on a deeper level, Caesar is a creature — a creature of this world — and Christ’s message is uncompromising; We should give Caesar nothing of ourselves. Obviously we’re in the world. That means we have obligations of charity and justice to the people with whom we share it. For Christians, patriotism is a virtue. Love of country is an honorable thing. As Chesterton once said, if we build a wall between ourselves and the world, it makes little difference whether we describe ourselves as locked in or locked out…

Real freedom isn’t something Caesar can give or take away. He can interfere with it; but when he does, he steals from his own legitimacy…The purpose of religious liberty is to create the context for true freedom. Religious liberty is a foundational right. It’s necessary for the good of society. But it can never be sufficient for human happiness. It’s not an end in itself. In the end, we defend religious liberty in order to live the deeper freedom that is discipleship in Jesus Christ. What good is religious freedom, consecrated in the law, if we don’t then use that freedom to seek God with our whole mind, our whole strength, our whole soul and all that we are.

  The Most Reverend Charles J. Chaput, O.F.M. Cap. is the ninth and current Archbishop of Philadelphia. Reprinted with permission

This week’s and last week’s Gospel passages for Sunday Mass are about discipleship. Last week (2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time) the call of Andrew, Peter, and another disciple was proclaimed to us as recorded by John. This Sunday (3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time) we have the calling of Andrew, Peter, James, and John proclaimed to us, as recorded by Mark. There are differences between the two accounts, but the differences are in the details. Both Mark and John agree on the focus of their accounts: Jesus called and his disciples followed.

Again, we are presented with the importance of answering the Lord’s call to follow him. What does discipleship look like? Honestly, that depends on who you ask. When I was on faculty at Mundelein Seminary, before returning to the Cathedral, Bishop Robert Barron, then rector, offered three paths for seminarian formation, but these three paths are not about making priests, they are for making disciples. Discipleship is grounded in a relationship with Jesus and too often people confuse a relationship with the Church as a relationship with Jesus but they are too distinctive realities; our relationship with Jesus is animated and expressed through our relationship with the Church. Do you have a true relationship with Jesus?

The first path of discipleship is finding the center for our lives and there are many people, ideologies, behaviors and so on that want to vie for that position. The center must be Jesus. We cannot be true disciples if he is not center to who we are. Not close to the center and not near the center, but the center; being close may work when playing Horseshoes but not with true discipleship. Jesus Christ, not an idea of him but the actual person, must be the central reality of our lives. His life, love, and grace must be the grounding force of what guides and moves our thoughts, actions, and disposition. If anyone or anything else is occupying the center space of our lives then our discipleship is lacking and incomplete.

The second path is acknowledging that you are a sinner. For some people this may come as a shock, but, yes, all of us are sinners and this acknowledgement is vital for true discipleship. The Scriptures chosen for the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time point to this necessity. The beginning of Mark’s Gospel links the acceptance of Jesus’s call to repentance with the ability to accept his invitation to discipleship. If we are unwilling to acknowledge our need for a savior then our discipleship is false. Jesus has come to save us from our sins and to lead us back to the fullness of the Father’s love. Any good and lasting relationship requires that each party know and understand each other. If we cannot, or will not, acknowledge our own sinfulness and our need for redemption then Jesus cannot be for us the savior that he wants to be and therefore we cannot truly know him. Part of our free will means that the Lord will not go where he is not invited in our lives. We must acknowledge our need for his mercy and forgiveness. When we do, then we can truly begin to know him.

The third and final path is acknowledging that your life is not about you. Contrary to what the world tells us, as disciples we cannot have what we want, when we want it, no matter what. The Lord Jesus tells us plainly “whoever would be my disciple must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me (Mt 16:24; Mk 8:34; Lk 9:23).” Our Lord’s life was rooted in sacrificial love and it must be the same for the disciple. Our lives are to be about Jesus Christ and the building up of his kingdom here and now. That is expressed in our love that is shown to our sisters and brother. If we are in love with ourselves then we are not able to walk this third path of discipleship.

These three paths ultimately form one path because all three are about enabling us to fully answer Jesus’s call to follow him. Jesus is calling each of us by name to true discipleship. Are you willing to walk the path to fully answer his call?

We’ve all been in the middle of a conversation, telling a story, asking for advice, or sharing how we’re doing when we notice the person across from us isn’t paying attention. Maybe they’re eyeing some odd character who just walked through the door behind us, or they’re glancing at their phone in response to a text alert, or they’re simply exhibiting that glazed-over look accompanied with an agreeable, I’m-not-listening-but-am-pretending-to head nod. I’m guilty of this, as I imagine we all are. In many cases, it’s not because we don’t care, are bored, or necessarily have something better to do. Instead, it often has to do with the understandable reality that it’s hard, even at times exceedingly difficult, to give our full attention to something or someone for an extended period of time. And although I think the way we consume information these days, in short, easily-digestible snippets of content at an unending rate, definitely doesn’t make things easier in this department, we can’t blame it only on technology (yes, we’ve all heard a thousand times that the digital age is hortening our attention spans).

The reason it’s hard to pay attention—to give ourselves fully to the moment before us no matter what we’re doing—is because it often requires us to turn away from what we’re naturally conditioned to do. It’s hard to keep our thoughts reigned in; it requires an act of the will and a firm commitment to staying focused. And with a weakened ability to focus—to be fully attentive to what’s in front of us—we hinder our relationships with others, the fruitfulness of our prayer, and even our union with God and the knowledge of his will.

It’s well known that the ability to pay attention—or to live in the moment—can increase happiness. An article from the Harvard Gazette, “Wandering Mind Not a Happy Mind,” claims that “people spend 46.9 percent of their waking hours thinking about something other than what they’re doing, and this mind-wandering typically makes them unhappy.” The article examines the research conducted by Harvard psychologists Matthew A. Killingsworth and Daniel T. Gilbert, which according to them, provides some illuminating insights on the peril of roaming thoughts. ‘Mind-wandering is an excellent predictor of people’s happiness,’ Killingsworth says. ‘In fact, how often our minds leave the present and where they tend to go is a better predictor of our happiness than the activities in which we are engaged.’”

This has been well documented by other studies as well, which is why fashionable terms and phrases like “living in the moment” and “mindfulness” have come to the cultural fore. Yet, aside from the psychological and emotional benefits of living in the present, of paying attention, what are its consequences for the spiritual life?

Simone Weil, the brilliant French philosopher and Christian mystic, wrote an essay with the lengthy title, Reflections on the Right Use of School Studies with a View to the Love of God. The essay expounds on the hidden spiritual benefits of focused study in academics. While the essay was specifically intended for students and their commitment to study, the crux of it can be applied to any type of work or activity with which we are called to give our full, undivided attention. In the essay, Weil explains that the attention students give toward unveiling some aspect of academic truth—whether it’s solving a math problem or grasping a theoretical proof—strengthens their ability to commune with God in prayer. “If we concentrate our attention on trying to solve a problem of geometry, and if at the end of an hour we are no nearer to doing so than at the beginning, we have nevertheless been making progress each minute of that hour in another more mysterious dimension. Without our knowing or feeling it, this apparently barren effort has brought more light into the soul.”

And so, whether we are solving a math problem, crafting an email to a coworker, listening intently to a friend, or cleaning a bathroom, by giving whatever the activity is our full attention— and therefore living within that moment—we widen our capacity to hear God’s voice in prayer. “It is the orientation of all the attention of which the soul is capable towards God. The quality of attention counts for much in the quality of the prayer. Warmth of heart cannot make up for it.” — Simone Weil, Reflections on the Right Use of School Studies with a View to the Love of God

Of course, all is grace, and our prayer is always first a response to God’s grace. God is ultimately the one who allows us to commune with him, for as we know, we do not know how to pray as we ought. Yet, we are still called to respond to his outpouring of grace—to his request to be in relationship with him. And we respond by offering the full use of our natural faculties to God and trusting in him to make up in us what we are lacking. If we don’t give God our full attention in our prayer, or in anything else we do which can be offered up to God, we’re only responding half-heartedly to his grace. We are still human though, and we’ll get distracted, find ourselves wandering in thought, and forget that we were smack dab in the middle of a Hail Mary. But, we try as best we can, and that’s all that God asks of us. The more we practice focusing our attention on the ordinary tasks that make up our day, the more we’ll be able to keep our attention fixed on the extraordinary task of listening to God in prayer. “The most potent and acceptable prayer is the prayer that leaves the best effects. I don’t mean it must immediately fill the soul with desire . . . The best effects [are] those that are followed up by actions—when the soul not only desires the honor of God, but really strives for it.” — St. Teresa of Avila

Herein is the beauty of the Christian life, and the implication of the command to “pray always”—everything we do can be offered up to God. And so the more attention and effort we give to anything we offer up to God, naturally, the more beautiful it is to him. This is why he asks for us to do one thing at a time, to live in the moment that he has gifted us with. “Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself. Sufficient for a day is its own evil.”

Our imaginations are great gifts, and the ability to re-live the past and fashion the future in our minds can be used to do great things. Yet, it can also keep us blind to the presence of God if we’re not careful. God does not reign in an anxiety-haunted vision of a hypothetical future, nor is he lurking in a past landscape saturated with regret. God is present to us in the present—in this exact instance of our existence.

As with everything in life, we only have to look to the source of all wisdom, truth and goodness: Jesus. Jesus was present in all that he did. Can you imagine Jesus sitting down with you at a meal and constantly looking out the window or asking you to repeat what you said, distracted and distant, as if wishing he was somewhere else? Or Jesus crafting a shoddy table, being only semi-competent in his woodworking? No. When he bent down to heal someone he looked into their eyes and spoke comfort to their heart. When he went away to be alone with God, he listened fully to his Father’s guiding voice. And on the eve of his Passion, knowing full well that he would be tortured and killed the next day, he remained perfectly present to his disciples, to his friends. He ate with them. He prayed with them. He washed their feet in a spirit of humility and love. Jesus lived presently and gave all of his attention to the work of love before him.

May we commit ourselves to loving God and others with our full attention—trusting that he’ll make up for whatever we’re lacking with his generous grace and love. “Pray as though everything depended on God. Work as though everything depended on you.” — St. Augustine

Chris Hazell is the founder of The Call Collective, a blog exploring the intersection between faith, culture and creativity. He holds bachelors’ degrees in English and Economics from UCLA and currently works as a Lead Content Strategist for Point Loma Nazarene University. With a passion for sports, good food and drink, deep conversations with friends, funny stories, writing and seeking to know and love Christ, he attributes all of the blessings in his life—health, family and friends—to nothing but God’s overabundant grace.

Reprinted with Permission from Word on Fire

What would you consider a serious commitment? We might think of a serious commitment as one that is legally binding or made in writing. Many of us might not consider our “New Year’s Resolutions” serious commitments. Maybe that is the reason we see many of them on our lists year after year, or maybe that is just me… Many Parishes conduct a “stewardship” campaign, which asks parishioners to share (in writing) their time, talents, and treasures to the Parish over the course of the year. While we did not do that at the Cathedral this past fall, the Cathedral has done that in the past. I am not sure what the response was then, but I tend to take stewardship practices more seriously having written them down. In that spirit, maybe this is a good opportunity to write down how we can be a practicing steward. Let’s see what a stewardship way of life looks like in 2018. What gifts of stewardship can we give to Jesus, just as the Magi did?

The Magi did not seek out Jesus to gawk at Him, they sought to worship the newborn Lord. Part of that worship included offering gifts. I read an article from a priest years ago (I am embarrassed that I forgot his name, but his message stuck with me) that mentioned the three gifts offered to Jesus from the Magi: gold, frankincense, and myrrh and how they related to gifts of stewardship. He explained that we can find symbolic meanings of stewardship behind these gifts. For gold, we might see this in relationship to treasure, which seems the most obvious out of the three. Frankincense is an ingredient in the incense used at Mass, which then can represent the time we offer in worship and prayer with God. Finally, he went on to mention that it takes effort and knowledge to transform and create perfumes, myrrh is a fitting symbol for the gift of talent. All of these gifts that the Magi presented to Jesus represent gifts of time, talent, and treasure we can share with the Cathedral.

Some of you reading this might not be a parishioner of the Cathedral, which is no surprise being the spiritual home for the Diocese. Rather you are a parishioner or not, each of us has a role to play in stewardship at the Cathedral.

• Your choice to worship with us each Sunday or as often as possible is an example of your commitment to stewardship of time.

• Your choice to share your talents, rather through Reading, Music, or a warm welcome to a in-pew neighbor, represents your willingness to share your talents.

• Your decision to place a financial gift in the basket to
support the Cathedral community, or your online gift, shows care and attention to a shared responsibility of our spiritual home.

Each of us has a role to play. During 2018, you will have the opportunity to share your time, talents, and treasure and we hope you will engage with us in one or all of these stewardship practices. We are a unique place, made up of parishioners, visitors, Catholics, returning Catholics, lapsed or anonymous Catholics, and faithful from all denominations. To provide nourishing Liturgies and sacraments, dynamic faith formation resources, and engaging and welcoming ministries, we need your help. As you reflect on your New Year’s Resolutions for 2018, consider a resolution to be a steward. Like the Magi, take a journey to a deeper relationship with Jesus by practicing a stewardship way of life in 2018.

Katie Price is the Coordinator for Discipleship and Stewardship at the Cathedral. She comes with an extensive background in this field after helping dioceses and parishes across the nation meet their goal of making discipleship a priority in their parishes. If you would like to learn more about the work she is doing, email her at [email protected]

I don’t know about you, but I’m kind of tired. I am guessing that it is a result of the post-Christmas season let-down. This was the busiest Christmastide for me in a long time, but that is not a complaint; I was busy, as so many of us are at that time of year, but, for me at least, I can honestly say that it was all good. From December 15th through New Year’s Day night I had one commitment or another. Whether it was for a dinner or gathering, all of them were the result of an invitation. And while I may be tired now, and there were times that I pondered saying “no,” I am glad that I offered a “yes.”

The Scripture readings for this weekend are about invitation: God calling Samuel and the Lord Jesus calling his disciples. In the Gospel, the invitation is clear. The would-be disciples of Jesus asked where he was staying and he responds “come and see.” We know that this statement is not nearly as simple as it seems because this invitation was about far more than seeing where the Lord was dwelling; Jesus was inviting Andrew and the other unnamed disciple to a new and different life. They would come to understand the gravity of this invitation in short time since it was Andrew who in turn brought his brother Simon to the Lord simply stating “we have found the Messiah.” Samuel’s calling was not as clear as it was for Andrew and the other disciples. Samuel hears a call but he simply assumes that it is from his mentor Eli. The calling persists, God does not relent, and Samuel, through Eli’s help, comes to understand from whom the call is coming. While it took time for Samuel to understand that it was the Lord who was calling, nonetheless he gives the disciples perfect response: “speak, for your servant is listening.”

Like Andrew and Samuel, we are all being called by the Lord, but do not think that the call is just for one moment in time. The Lord’s call is continuous and unrelenting, and it demands the same response in kind. This is one of the many challenges that we face in our daily discipleship: our invitation to follow the Lord, our invitation to deeper life and love with him demands a daily response in faith and love, not one that is lukewarm and noncommittal. Have you ever invited someone to your home or to an event, one that you had poured much love, energy, time, your whole self into only to get a lack luster response, or a response that is almost one of inconvenience? The life that God is inviting us to is one in which he has poured the total gift of himself into, not for his own need or gratification, but for our ultimate good. All too often our response is non-committal, cautious, half-hearted, or even an outright refusal by some.

Is answering the Lord’s without challenge? No, and we see that demonstrated in the lives of Andrew and Samuel as well as in our own lives. Nevertheless, the invitation remains. What is holding us back from making a total yes to the Lord’s invitation: false priorities, uncertainty, fear? Will answering the Lord’s call mean that your life will not always be easy? Yes. Will answering the Lord’s call mean that your life is not about you? Yes. Will answering the Lord’s call involve dying to yourself? Yes. Will answering the Lord’s call offer you something that the world cannot? Oh yes…eternal life with him. Let us seek the grace to make that daily “yes” to the Lord’s invitation to follow him, to walk in his light, and to live in his love.

Father Christopher House is the Rector-Pastor of the Cathedral and serves in various leadership roles within the diocesan curia, specifically Chancellor and Vicar Judicial.

Why is it so hard for so many parents and teachers to get kids to do as they are told?

When was the last time you heard a child referred to as obedient? It’s probably been a while. That’s too bad, because the best research tells us that obedient children are happy children. And, from my experience as a family psychologist, the parents of obedient children are happy parents. Since all parents want their children to be happy, the question becomes: How does one get a child to obey? Is there some trick to it?

Well, there are certainly are a lot of parents who think so. They believe that proper discipline is a matter of using the right methods, techniques, and strategies — what I call “consequence delivery systems.” Parents have been using these behavior modification-based methods since they became popular in the 1960s — seemingly to no avail. Would anyone argue that today’s kids are more obedient than kids were several generations ago? I don’t think so. The reason these methods and techniques don’t work is that proper discipline is not a matter of proper methods. It’s a matter of a proper attitude on the part of the parent.

Let me illustrate the point. Let’s say that for a week I observe the classroom of a grade school teacher who has the reputation of being the best disciplinarian in her district. She consistently has fewer behavior problems than any of her colleagues. What is she doing? She’s making her expectations perfectly clear. Which means, first, she communicates in simple, declarative sentences. She doesn’t use fifty words when she could use ten. The more words you use to communicate your expectations, the less confident you sound.

Second, she prefaces her instructions to her students with authoritative phrases like, “I want you to…” and “It’s time for you to…” She says, “It’s time for you to take out your math books and turn to page 25,” as opposed to, “Let’s take out our math books and turn to page 25, okay?” Third, this teacher does not explain the motives behind her instructions to her students. Why? Because she knows that explanations invite arguments.

Whenever parents tell me they’re dealing with an argumentative child I know that these well-intentioned people are explaining themselves. They tell their child why they want him to pick up his toys, for example. And he argues, because you can always pick apart an explanation. If you don’t explain yourself when you give an instruction to a child, then the child, being a child, is almost surely going to ask for one. He’s going to ask, “why?” or “why not?” At which point — get ready for a big surprise — your answer should be: “Because I said so.”

These very useful four words — and no, they will not cause psychological damage to your kids; quite the contrary — are a simple, but powerful, affirmation of the legitimacy of your authority. Say it calmly. Don’t scream it. Nothing good is ever accomplished by a person who screams.

Last, but certainly not least, when giving instructions to a child, do not — let me repeat: do not — bend down to the child’s level. Getting a child to do what he or she is told is a matter of looking and acting and talking like you have complete confidence in your authority. Bending down to a child’s level does not look authoritative. It looks, in fact, like you’re one movement away from being down on your knees in front of a king.

I know — you’ve read somewhere that you should get down to a child’s level when you talk to him. Well, all I can tell you is that there’s a lot of really bad parenting advice out there. And that’s but one example. Speak to children from an upright position. That causes them to look up to you. And that is a good thing — for them and for you both

John Rosemond is the nation’s leading parenting expert and provides common-sense advice for raising your children. John is a nationally syndicated columnist, author and public speaker. He is the author of he Well Behaved Child and The Diseasing Of Americas Children. Reprinted with Permission by Catholic Education Resource Center